Weapon neXt
IronRaven, with editing/betareading by Baby Beaver

Every covert mission has certain common problems, be it a covert food drop for sieged in political dissidents, intelligence gathering, or anything in between.

It wasn't like other missions.

Before, if there was a mission, everyone knew or no one knew. This was too big, too much equipment was being pulled out of storage, too many people were involved, but no one was saying anything.

Sam had seen boxes being taken from a room whose door was always locked, marked the same way explosives going to the mines back home had been. There had been a lot of them.

Bobby and Hank had been run through the specifics of the network, more so than if Kitty was just going to be gone for a few days. She'd even given them her root admin passwords. The ones she told Bobby that she wouldn't give him over her dead body.

Kurt had ransacked the infirmary. He'd even packed body bags. Syrin had recognized them, and it filled her with dread.

Rogue had taken advantage of Forge being on campus over the summer to have a lot of equipment checked over, including six of the ten heads-up visors he'd made for them. Then she sealed it up in cases, and carried them into the hangar.

Everyone knew something was happening. The word from the Professor was that they were not to speculate, they would all be told in due time. That was the last straw- they weren't speculating. If you asked them, the students were 'analyzing unusual events and developing possible courses of action', as Roberto would later phrase it.

-neXt-

"Do you have everything you think you might need?"

"Yeah. Charles, I don't know if I'll be able thank you." He'd already said goodbye to Ororo. He'd told her enough. She understood what he was doing, and why he was doing it. She had told him to come home safe, and kissed him. First time she'd done that in front of students.

"Thank me by bringing my X-Men home." Charles Xavier's fingers clenched on the arms of his wheel chair. "Do what you what you need to to protect your daughter. Get going- I sense Kurt is getting anxious."

"He ain't the only one." Logan sniffed. "Flea is listening."

Logan stepped through the archway without saying more. With a sigh, the Professor turned his chair about, the squeak of rubber on steel buried under the sound of the blast door closing. The shield was designed to survive a catastrophic crash of one of the aircraft, one where the main fuel supply burned; it was as thick as the walls of the Danger Room. The clank of the relay to charge the electromagnetic catapult could be heard through the floor as Charles came to the intersection.

"Hello Timothy." His friends called him Tim, or Flea. Short and slim, he kept his blond hair cut military short, his blue-grey eyes huge behind his glasses. He was a teleport like Kurt but he seemed to use a different dimension; there was no smoke or smell. "What brings you down here? I thought I told everyone to stay out of Mr. Logan's way."

Tim shrugged as the lower levels vibrated with the scream of Blackbird taking off. "You seemed like shi- something was bothering you, Professor. You tell us to talk to you, maybe you should talk to one of us?" He blinked owlishly behind the lenses. "Who told us that sometimes you have to do the right thing, because it is the right damn thing, even if you've been told not to?"

Charles chuckled- he knew exactly who that was, and he was being hoisted on his own pitard. "I hope I never have to tell you about this. Now, let's go upstairs. I think Mr McCoy was saying something about a game of basketball this evening. Powers allowed, and I think I'll be there."

A slight smile hid the mental note that Charles was sending to the simian-esque instructor. Sometimes the biggest challenge with their charges wasn't so much teaching them, they had almost reached they point where could do that themselves if they had to, but keeping them pointed in the right direction.

At times, Charles wondered if he was in control of the thing he'd created. Sometimes he feared that maybe his creation, his Institute, had become something that was too big to be guided.

-neXt-

"Autopilot engaged."

"Confirm, autopilot has the aircraft." Kurt leaned back in the right hand seat. He was still trying to digest the news. An evil Laura, and a clone of Sabertooth. "ETA Keflavik, six hours."

They had all the radar transponders on and had registered their flight path. As far as the world was concerned, on radar and in the computers, they were a prototype aircraft enroute to Europe, about the size of medium business jet. They could have been there much faster, but Logan wanted a low profile and time to plan. Logan wanted to refuel in Iceland, and Laura thought there might be someone there who had worked with Hydra in the past.

"All right, you've all looked at the material. You all know the enemy. I want you all to remember one thing- the Professor's only two rules on this one were to do this quiet, and bring everyone home."

"Those are our only rules of engagement?" Rogue looked concerned. They usually had more rules than that.

"Everyone, it is going to be me." Laura's voice was hard. "A very broken me. You've all seen what that means. She isn't going to hold back, you saw what it takes to stop me. But this one won't be asleep- she'll be wide awake and heavily armed. If she wants to kill you, you need to kill her first. Best bet is to get her down, then cut off my head. Her head." Laura was having a hard time with the idea of there being another version of her. "If you hesitate, she will kill any one of you- she's trained to hit and be gone, not to hang around, not to take trophies unless they are needed. And she isn't afraid of being hurt."

"Logan, mah biggest concern is they've had almost three days to run." Rogue waved the thick stack of passport records that Fury had contributed.

"Yes, they have. And as of three this morning, the credit cards they used to buy tickets haven't been touched. We can assume they have others."

"So they could literally be anywhere by now?" Kitty shook her head. "Its like a needle in a haystack."

"Pretty much. If you have a better idea, tell me- last place we knew for sure they were before New York was Moscow. Too much hassle getting in and out of there, they probably started there or near bye. Huh, that's odd" There was a blink on the console, a motion detector. "I think we just had something shift in the gear."

"Ah'll check it; need ta stretch anyway." Rogue pushed herself from her seat, and walked aft.

"Logan, I have a technical issue- I don't have a passport." Laura frowned. She'd never needed on before, HYDRA had provided one or she'd been crossing illegally. She'd been too mad at Alex to think straight. Being afraid of him getting hurt had already endangered the mission, made her make mistakes. "I'm sorry, I didn't think of it."

Remy laughed, reaching into his coat. "Here, petite." He was holding out a slightly worn passport, the kind a young girl who'd left the country two or three times might have. "You dropped this in the hanger."

She turned it over in her hands, staring at the back. Stamps for Japan last winter, and France the year before that. They looked good. The dates were timed for Bayville High's vacations. There was a stain, it smelled like diet cola. She studied the photo, her nose pressing the paper- it was a copy of the one on her school ID. The paper even smelled right. The birthday was the day she'd come to the Institute the first time, that night she'd meant to kill Logan, and discovered she didn't have to. In the name of Laura Logan. The passport was Canadian. The immunization record and green card matched. "But.. how?"

Remy smiled. He'd asked the Professor if anyone needed personal documents that couldn't be traced, then started looking for a papers artist who was reliable. That had been the hard trick. Once he'd the needed information, the man had produced the needed forms in a few hours.

-neXt-

Rogue surveyed the tiny cargo bay. She'd only seen it this full for a few missions. Parachutes, scuba gear, camping equipment, demolitions charges, night vision goggles, inflatable boats, Kitty's computers and electronics , a foot locker of medical supplies and Kurt's run bag- they'd planned on pretty much running into anything between now and the time they were home. Everything was strapped down, nice and tight except for some of their individual bags. Two were sitting on top of the others, which were strapped down.

There were two more here than she'd remembered. She picked up one. This one wasn't too heavy. She let it drop on the other one. The other one jumped and shouted. She recognized the voice. "ALEX SUMMAHS YAH DAMN FOOL IDIOT!"

"Hi Rogue. Uhmmm... This bag doesn't have inside zippers. Can you let me out?"

-neXt-

"Shut it." Logan's voice was a growl, low and lethal. "You weren't invited." Alex's eyes were wide. He hadn't said a thing other than a few protests at being bumped as he was dragged back to the cabin in the bag. Logan was still crouched next to the jumbo duffel that Havok had curled up in. "How did you get here?"

"Tim. He got me and my stuff on board."

"So The Flea wasn't just eavesdropping. When we get home, you are the only person who's gonna envy him, hotshot." Logan's glare was still pinning the kid down.

Alex looked around. Everyone was looking at him, except one. Laura was pissed, even worse than Logan, she wouldn't even look at him. But he couldn't let her run off to face this alone. He'd been thinking over a tactical reason, and he had one: none of them were long range fighters. He could hit a trash can at three hundred yards on a good day and make people want to keep their heads down at a half mile. Sure, he wasn't as good as Scott, but Scott had more experience and could only throw one beam at a time. Alex might might only be able put out two-thirds the energy at his most, but he could do that with each hand at the same time. Alex wasn't going to try something emotional like saying that he was following along because he'd rather die than have Laura never come back and not know why.

"Fine, you're with us to Iceland. If you can't convince me to not leave you there, you can stay at least as far as the next stop."

"Where are-"

"Shut up. Don't move, don't even blink." Logan moved up to the pilot's seats, opening his chart bag. He pulled out an envelope, flipping it Alex. "Had a feeling you'd do something stupid and heroic, and I wasn't the only one. Read."

Alex sat up slowly, opening the package. There were a couple of things in it, most of them down at the bottom. There was a piece of paper with hand writing on it at the top. He pulled that out first.

Alex-

I don't know what is going on. But whatever it is has everyone wound up, and it looks like it involves Laura. If you are reading this on a Blackbird, I'm not happy with you bro'. Honestly, I'm pissed. But I also know that I was the same age you are when I walked into a telekinetic storm trying to save Jean's life. I don't know if you and Laura are supposed to be together, but you are in love with her. So if Logan will have you on his team, you have my permission. If he doesn't, he also has my permission to send you home on the first flight he finds, even if it means you get stuffed in a box and sent FedEx.

If you are going to do this, remember your training. Keep your head on straight, and don't do anything stupid. I'm not going to be there to bail your butt out this time. Obey Logan like you would the would the Proff. And Rogue. And Kurt. And Kitty. Even Gambit. In fact, just shut up and do what anyone tells you to. Don't screw this up, and don't embarrass us. And don't die.

If anyone thinks Mexico didn't do it, you're an X-man now. Not a student, not any more. These quiet field trips with Logan, you get to grow up real fast.

And next time remember that if you are going to be an international man of mystery, you need your passport. And cash- it isn't a lot, but it was what me, Jean and some others could scrape up in a hurry. Pay us back if you survive.

Be careful, little brother. I will not lose you again.

And show this to Logan. He's probably already guessed, but I trust him with Jean's life, I can trust him with yours.

-Scott

Slowly, Alex stood up, walking to a few steps behind the pilots' seats. "Mr Logan?"

"Just Logan, Slim, just Logan." Wolverine had the multifunction display between the two flight stations switched to checking flight schedules. Kitty was right, it was easy to assume that their prey had started in Russia- for Westerners, Moscow was a destination, not a place you passed through. But if they'd come from certain parts of Asia...

"Ah... Logan, Scott said I should show you this."

Logan grunted, taking the paper from the young man, not bothering to open it before handing him a copy of the material they'd gotten from Fury.

It had the picture of the other X-23 going into the guards at the very top. Alex looked at it, eyes wide as he realized what he was seeing. He glanced at Laura, who was pointedly studying something in an identical packet. He looked back down at the date stamp on the image. He only needed a couple seconds to realize the implication. "Oh crap."

-Author's notes:
OK... Alex, you are a twit. I hope you packed wool socks and body armour.