_____________The Arrival and the Reunion_____________
A/N
Everyone, thanks for the reviews and giving me a second chance to redeem myself in the proofreading department. I can certainly understand where that's obnoxious and self-suicide to continuing any story.
Due to the fact some Marvel Universe elements are presented in this chapter with acronyms that could possibly be alien to strict X-Men fans, I've whipped up a quick glossary.
They are not planned to be a main objective for long, but it's good to know whats going on in meantime right?
So again, enjoy this installment, feel free to comment, and all that jazz.
There is also a little language in this chapter, so a heads up.
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SAFE - Explained in story, but the function is not so .... it's an intelligence and anti-terrorist group similar to the FBI strictly run by the US Government that deals with superhuman threats. (Got all that?)
SHEILD- Everyone should know this one, but in-case you've been living under a rock, here ya go. Strategic Hazard Intervention, Espionage and Logistics Directorate. Same thing as SAFE, but UN run.
HYDRA - Terrorist Organization bent on world domination, arch enemy of SHIELD. Their agents often get missions to detonate, destroy, beat up, or burn things for the most part.
FOH- Another obvious one. Friends of Humanity - Mutant hating group that goes around rallying, attacking and terrorizing anything possibly mutant related. If any X-Fan didn't know that one.. no soup for you.
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Macdill Airforce Base - Tampa, Florida
Logan sat impatiently taking in unpleasant whiffs of the air. A mingle of ammonia and bleach clung to the walls trying to compensate for the left-over smell of cheap cigarettes.
The guard that laid sentinel at the door felt it necessary to show his prowess by staring accusingly in Logan's direction. Cocking his gun slightly every time he settled his eyes on him, Logan finally scowled, extended his claws, and flashed a mouthful of fangs in response. Immediately he turned facing the whitewashed hallway, much in the same manner a defeated dog would stalk away with it's tale between the legs.
Humans were stupid, Logan thought. Little did this pee-brain know the makeup of feral mutations let alone that in one clean swipe, he could dismember him. Yet there he stood, arrogant and proud letting the cold metal of his AK-47 boost his ego. Maybe Magneto was onto something with his whole wiping out the homo-sapian race thing but thought nothing more on it.
Ad least the chump took a hint.
Logan let out a throaty growl in irritation and shrinking patience before tapping his claws impatiently on the tabletop.
Something didn't smell right, didn't settle well with him.
First it came with Ororo asked into a private audience upon arrival and then Logan being chauffeured to wait in what was pretty much an interrogation room. It didn't help to alleviate speculation when they put sparky on guard with a machine gun; Macdill wasn't exactly in need for the same caliber of security as that of Abu Grave.
Especially not when their help was requested on behalf of the US Government herself.
Ororo had been gracious, Logan recalled, holding him back from blowing off the entire mission on a vague hunch and reasoned it was nothing out of the ordinary for a city to be on red-alert when it was in the midst of a State of Emergency. Even though it prolonged his advances, it was decided that if she wasn't back in five minutes he would take more extreme methods to deal with their lack of hospitality.
Nearly four minutes and forty-two seconds had gone by when Logan's ears heard the sifting of footsteps in the hallway and Ororo entered, accompanied by three others.
Someone had an acute sense of timing.
The ringleader that approached was a middle aged man, nearly bald and greying around the sides dressed in black with piercing blue eyes. The other two were dressed in fatigues, obviously more watchdogs. The man in black took brisk strides even though having a slight limp and slapped down a file on the solitary desk.
Logan glanced offensive at him then the file before settling his eyes on 'Ro. She stood near him, but closer to the wall with a look that was hard to gauge. Maybe anticipation? Before Logan could ponder deeper on it, the man started to speak.
"Dont look so offended at not being able ta watch TV and sample finger foods durrin' yu' wait. Were only dealin' with a state of Emergency here."
The man spoke flatly in a northern accent, possibly from the Boston area, responding to the look of inconvenience that Logan expressed.
He came across commanding and cynical on top of his blatant sarcasm. Logan settled on the neatly lined wrinkles below his eyes hiding shadows that gathered exhaustion or maybe just a show of age. And with the sudden realization he probably was an ex-sergeant, most likely a Vietnam vet with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder straddling a fine line from insanity, he responded more mild concerning his present temperament.
"Well sorry if a man takes offense to being shoved into a dark cell with no one for company but Rambo over there. But since you went through all this trouble to get our help fixin up your busted town, then hows about some introductions?"
With that understanding, the man smirked in approval.
"Base was compromised during the perpetual chaos and it seems the invaders didn't see any need to ransack the interrogation cells. It's probably the most secure sector in this entire place right now. Name's Jackson Billiard, I'm with Strategic Actions For Emergencies..."
"S.A.F.E. The US answer to SHIELD. Yeah, I know bout you guys. So whats the deal? Need our help infiltratin' Latveria? Or are the Fantastic Four not available? " Logan finished for him passing a keen eye over that revelation while not being surprised at that same time.
"Well that saves some time, dont it? I can appreciate a man that gets to tha point. "
Logan smirked.
"And so can I, but it seem you went through some hoops to get us down here, Old man. Six hundred thousand condemned homes, flooded streets and a contaminated water source to get our attention? You should have just asked nicely."
"What can we say? We like'a little bit'a rusing. Besides, that's what FEMA and otha organizations are for," Jackson said off handed while Logan's smirk broadened at his remarks, "Although, that don't stand for much nowa days. Direct ya attention to the fotag."
Logan opened the file that had been placed in front of him. A flood of pictures came. Some of schools, others of religious establishments, and still others barely unrecognizable under charred rubble.
"Someone has a liken' for blowing shit up. HYDRA?"
" HYDRA sure likes their pyrotechnics, but no. This is more internal. SAFE headquarters were attacked last week with one of our leading nuclear scientists being kidnapped. While we've traced involvement to FOH we cant quite place why they would strike at a human-government installation."
"It's because their bloomin' idiots. But aint it even more embarrasin' is they managed to compromise yer state of the art headquarters? What's it made outta? Legos?"
"Humorous Wolverine and I'm glad your following so far," Jackson offered. "But, were not convinced it's that cut and dry. Security camera's were busted during tha blast but managed to capture this shot."
He sifted through the documents until coming up on a very murky dark shot. Logan remained silent taking in the shredded details but making out in overall shape.
"So you got a backside of someone. That don't help much."
Jackson studied Logan, and then rested his eyes finally on Ororo, who had remained silent the whole time. Somehow, Logan now fully understood just why he couldn't read her before.
"Maybe not, but we've determined the detonation of the blast to be of kinetic origin. Same with all these other bombings."
"Kinetic energy? Well that gets you nowhere. When shit blows up its bound to charge. It's a simple matter of nature."
"We've got witnesses, better yet mutants who survived these otha' attacks. They have all given strikingly similar descriptions although the bombings happened in different places. It matches our security camera image. And we have reason to believe you both know him. Or Ad-least, Storm does, maybe I should say Ms. Munroe? I must say she's got quite a record undah' her belt."
It was only then Ororo spoke her voice firm, and eyes glistening a shade of dramatic cobalt.
" I don't take kindly to blackmail, Billiard, as I have told you already. It was years ago. I've served my time. Last I checked double jeopardy is illegal in this country."
"Who said anything about blackmail? We have substantial proof putting your longtime thieving-partner at nearly every attacked location. If you know his wear abouts, then I don't think being an accomplice to terrorist activity would be double jeopardy. Tha' matter is simple. We want Remy Leabeau now and know your still in contact with him. Otherwise we have no choice but to detain you."
Logan rose from his seat, protectively shielding Ororo from his grasp.
"Woah, pal, step it down. You've got a backside of someone with brown hair. You got people tellin vague details. Last I checked substantial proof is DNA- a fingerprint, a hair sample, a mouth swab, hell a blood sample- and you got nothin'. Just some stories not to mention yer reasons don't add up - first FOH is behind it, but a mutant is helpin'em. If this clown is a mutant, then why hasn't FOH just offed him? It aint exactly like they have tea time socials with people like us. And What 'bout yer missin' scientist? He's into nuclear shit. Who's to say this isn't some elaborate setup by that chump? Or has it crossed your mind it could be a shape-shifter? There's plenty of them round these parts. One things for sure, all you got is speculation and that's neither grounds nor proof to hold no one. So until you bring up a better case-in-point scenario for the big and bad secret intelligence organization yer suppose to be, then me in' Storm got better things to do then listen to this bullshit."
With that Logan started to move disregarding the fact the men in fatigues were pulling at their guns and the one in the far corner had shut the door. There was a click signaling it had been locked. Heh, that was amusing. That would prevent someone who's bones were laced with the strongest metal known to man from escaping! Logan ignored the gesture wanting to laugh but stopped when Billiard raised a hand to restrain him. Is the man serious? Contact? Even more amused then before, he felt a sudden growl bellow deep in the back of his throat. It has been a while since he cut loose and man would he enjoy this.
"Care to get your hand outta my face before it's detached from your body?"
Logan extended his claws, reinforcing his buffer between the guards who pulled out their pistols and Ororo, ready to attack if necessary.
Billiard seemed unfazed by this threats and retreated neither in moving his hand.
"Might I remind you that if you dare touch me or any of these men, that is incarceration for life."
Logan sneered, his claws now up, ready to slice, something, anything, from Billiard.
"They've yet to build anything that can hold me, pal. I'd like to see your government or any other two timing gutter trash try an' accomplish it."
Jackson sighed as if disappointed.
'Very well then."
Logan furrowed a brow. Definite analysis: Billiard equals certifiable. Pacing himself, he lunged. Let the fireworks begin. But before their machine guns opened fire at point blank range, Ororo thrust herself in front of him.
"What are you all insane? Those bullets would ricoche and maim us all before anyone got what they wanted. Stand down all of you. For Goddess sake...."
Ororo reprimanded both parties like they had been nothing more then mere children squabbling on the school-yard. Before either of them had a chance to protest, she continued.
"I've got nothing to hide. While your terms of suggestion are more then questionable, I agree to them. But mind you, things will come full circle."
Logan stood in disbelief.
"What? You cant be serious 'Ro. Takin' the fall for somethin' you have nothing to do with. Who's to say these dirtbags arnt settin' us up?"
Ororo held such a stern and determined look. A commander, a warrior going bravely to her death. An Goddess dancing in the realm of the mortals. This was all above her, yet she contended with its eventualities anyway.
"I am prepared to go with you, only under the stipulation you let Logan go and leave my team out of this. No, trackers, no spying. If Remy does indeed try to look for me, then he will come to me not them."
Billiard eyed the beautiful white haired woman before him, taken with her stance and character. She was every bit the leader a team as legendary as the X-Men should have. He had known Xavier years ago and realized why he now chose this woman to represent his dream. Human Mutant relations. Sensibility. All of it became her essence regardless of what criminal background she came from. Storm was something to be admired and in the same line of thought, also a bit of an enigma. But the short sneering hairy mutant with claws was an entire other matter.
"Like Fuckin hell, Ro. I'm not leaving you here to these wolves. You've got nothin' to do with this."
Ororo ignored him, looking straight on at Billiard, waiting for his response.
Her resolve was like ice. Unbending. He admired that.
After a time it came.
"Agreed. Davedson, Escort Wolverine out of here."
As the one guard approached, Logan was ready to lunge when Ororo put a hand on his shoulder.
"Logan, please."
He struggled whipping against her, rage building to the surface. What was her problem?
"Like HELL. I'm not leavin'."
Trying her to up most to calm him, and realizing the abrasive men with machine guns was only drawing him more to his feral nature, she addressed Billiard.
"Can we have a moment? Without them?"
Almost wishing he could just drop this entire affair on her behalf, he complied, pushing the other men outside, and walking a bit down the hall to ensure her privacy.
Turning to face Logan who was breathing ragged, she put her hand on his shoulder taking in his desperate blue eyes.
" Look. I need you to take care of them for me."
What nonsense was this woman spouting? He shook her, hoping it would knock some sense into her.
"Ro what are you talkin' 'bout? You've gone mad? Yer not stayin' here. I'm gettin' you outta this. Yer not takin' the fall for that theiven' bastard."
She passed a subtle look at him. It was enough for him to gauge what she wasn't able to say. She would deal with this, take the fall for him, professing nothing, saying nothing, all for the loyalty she had to him. Logan didn't understand it and never thought much beyond it until now but something about it angered him. How had someone as secretive and all-round questionable like Gambit come to gain the unconditional trust of someone as pure as 'Ro? They probably could have matched his blood sample saying he murdered the president and still she wouldn't abandon him. It was almost too sick a thought. Was she that twisted?
No. She wasn't. She knew deep in her gut that he had nothing to do with it.
And even though he had his own doubts, he believed all of this to be beyond Gambit too. Still, it didn't mean that 'Ro should be here paying for his mistakes.
"Don't Ro. If you take the fall, then nothing will get solved."
" It will create some type of peace for us right now. Don't forget, Logan, I'm not a fan of small enclosed spaces myself. This will get solved. Contact the professor. Tell him what's going on. And please do not worry so much. I need someone to keep everything intact for the time being."
Reluctantly, he saw her reasoning more then plainly. It made sense. She was thinking ahead, planning her strategy. Something he did little of. Finally bending, he took her hand and squeezed it. She returned the gesture in full. What was it about 'Ro that could calm the most horrific monster in him? It was her calming effect, he slowly concluded.
"Dont bring the house down. I'll be back."
" Will do. Now go."
He looked at her one more time before heading towards the door and letting out a sneer passing Billiard. It was ignored.
Being escorted by two of the watchdogs who were smart enough to keep their distance, they finally turned him loose.
Approaching the Blackbird, he un-stealth-ed it and up the engines. Using one of the devices that detected radio and tracker signals Beast had invented, he scanned the jet and found none. After a nudging second reassurance from his keen senses, he focused enough to take off an start arranging his own battle plan. Managing to connect to an active com device which signaled Besty's proper British flair on the other end, he spoke.
"Psylocke 'Crawler - abort mission. Rendezvous in downtown Dallas in one hour. Will give exact coordinates soon."
"Copied, although I regret to inform you most of downtown is being blocked off by the National Guard. They are only letting in FEMA, rescue workers and pumps. What's the problem?"
" Fill you on details later. Keep this line open."
"Understood. Wolverine, is Storm with you?"
"Not presently. Will explain later. Logan out."
The line went dead. Betsy was too intuitive for her own good and that would prove useful soon.
He thought about getting in contact with the professor, but that was becoming less and less an option considering how he hadn't been around or even interested in them as of late.
A more immediate plan of action was needed.
Growling with protest at the next move his mind initiated, he could think of only one person that pulled enough strings to help where government sectors were concerned.
Although he didn't look forward to dealing with Forge after the last exchange they shared, much of the outcome all his doing, he swallowed his pride, his emotions and his bitter doubts.
The fact of the matter was simple: he didn't trust him. But that was neither here nor there.
'Ro needed his help right now and that would require working to keep a level head and not turn into some overly- jealous feral animal. He snarled, questioning himself.
He wasn't jealous, just extremely protective of the only few friends he came to have.
Maneuvering through a patch of rain, he punched up the Doppler. The mass over him was converging with other squalls gaining momentum over the warm waters and heading east towards landfall in the Tampa Bay Area. It was accompanied with dots of red and yellow between the green. Green was rain, red was severe weather and yellow was lightning, if he remembered correctly. And as the red and yellow started to settle, concentrated in one spot, he smirked. So much for not bringing the house down, he thought. Maybe she had re-thought her current decision? Somehow he knew that wasn't the case, although he wished it was. Instead he become annoyed with the thoughts of what she was enduring, and faught the urge to turn round, kill every mother fucker in that military base and burn the place down for the mere pleasure of it. In the old days, he would have.
He'd been tamed, big time.
He spun the controls on the blackbird dangerously even higher and faster, determined to reach Dallas in record time.
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Forge had seen better times.
The more significant part of the day followed much of it's beginning; an advance from bad to worse. The sum of it was spent getting clearance into Downtown and the other to reaching his compound. There were an intermingling of the National Guard and Navy Seals stationed around the perimeter of the city blocking off the business district as far as the eye could see. Being escorted by a few men on motorboats through the flooded streets, the sights were hard to take in. Pumps were strategically placed trying to recede the waters, with men working in earnest. Shops and buildings were ruined by the murky waters. Chairs and tables from a nearby bistro went floating by, alongside clothes, shoes, and accessories, once merchandise goods. Pieces of metal most likely paneling from the buildings drifted by. Very few windows remained intact leading Forge to believe most of the glass was lurking beyond the dark waters. The skyscrapers were black, charred and stripped of any closure resembling a scene straight from Doomsday. The smell of lingering filth and stagnant water filled the air. A putrid scent, in light. The air had been calm, stuffy and humid lingering it for miles.
The entire area had been condemned. Nothing living would be allowed to reside here long and keep their health.
He began to feel an inward pummeling of guilt as he caught sight of a drenched teddy bear that barely remained afloat over the diseased waters. How many people had lost their livelihoods? It was a heavy load to carry. He didn't want to think about the many who suffered, or even worse- paid with their lives - over the the primal force of the Adversary. Something he should have done better to prevent.
As he finally came up on Eagle Plaza, he made a mental assessment of the damage. The outside remained battered, and charred, but aside from that intact. Aside from a few windows on the first level that had shattered, most remained unscathed. He glanced briefly into the sky, seeing no other windows affected. He breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared his reinforced design had held up to tests. It was then he directed his escort on their way.
They left without much word, under strict orders not to hassle him.
Sometimes having friends in high places paid off.
Upon entering, he braced for what he would find next.
Not surprisingly the first two levels had been flooded, with water damage resonating on the third. All power had been knocked out. That meant most of his secular and personal items were ruined, and the other half most likely ripped off. Plasma Televisions, computers, clothes, electronic equipment - that sort of thing. There had been a slew of looting. For where was primal chaos if not accompanied by looting? Unsurprised, he brushed past those levels, as they were filled with menial things that could be replaced and moved onto the security code that gained entry into the upper floors.
Upon designing Eagle Plaza, he implemented something termed the "Trinitarion" Method. Three levels were supplanted together, with a common foundation. From the fourth to the sixth floor, it was created from a complete separate foundation, that ran off a different power source, and finding it to still be working, he breathed a little easier. He gathered it had been short-circuited but operational due to the mandatory reload function. With that revelation, he diverted some of the power to regenerate the lower levels reestablishing the security cameras before moving on.
While the fourth and fifth level seemed to be fine, it wasn't until he reached the sixth, his working lab, that thoughts severely turned. The mess that greeted him inside was extensive and chaotic. Papers were trashed from the secured file cabinets. His desk was overturned and drawers along with his computer, CD Roms and mini-discs. It seemed there was not a piece of floor that remained visible. Fear creeping thoroughly, he went to the far end of the room, pressing in a key-code.
Instantly, a door materialized.
It had remained untouched, unseen. Breathing a sigh of relief after disarming the cloaking device, he went to the door and put in another code which required a retinal and fingerprint scan. After being approved, he stepped into a black vacuum from which bright green lights came alive one by one as he maneuvered through the hallway leading to yet another door. After going through the same process for this door, he finally entered a massive room that covered an entire floor on its own. It seemed to stretch so far the other side remained unseen. Many computer screens on-top of more computer screens entertained one side along with a show of different machinery, gadgets, wires, and other elements remaining strange and alien. Forge maneuvered through the area with ease and booted up the mainframe computer that had welcomed him by name.
All had been untouched, save the dust that collected between the shadows.
While It seemed there were six levels to the visible eye, this was the seventh that remained perpetually cloaked to secure his most important projects. After the neutralizer incident, he felt it necessary. If anyone had just an inkling of the things he was working on, it could mean disaster and certain chaos where the world was concerned. Of course that sounds a bit mellow-dramatic and anti-climatic, but that's about what it amounted to.
It was an unerving thought in its own merits.
Too dangerous, too much.
Sometimes he even wondered where his mind ran to think and create such vile and masochistic inventions.
The great spirits knew the government had requested some monsters in their time.
Maybe it was a weakness.
For someone that could make anything, why not?
His abilities became a modern-day Pandora's box; filled with wonders and consequence all in one.
But it didn't change the fact he still had a sense of morals.
Forge designed this level with so much precision that even the energy outtake couldn't be discovered. It ran off solar powered generators and an indictable force field able to withstand a B-52 bombing, 185 MPH hurricane winds, or practically anything with an assault mechanism. Then there was the fingerprint keyboard sensors that shut down access to the mainframe and motion detectors that picked up foreign body patterns triggering high sensory lasers. Yes, he thought long and hard to secure this place. And at the thought, someone getting as far as his lab worried him.
Who would trash it?
What were they looking for?
It would take some time to go through everything and pinpoint exactly what.
It would also take even more time to clear his first two floors of flood damage.
Pulling up old archives of his security camera footage that only covered the last four days, he found nothing. It meant the invasion happened sometime before he even came back from Adversary's world.
Either way, they failed in compromising his most important assets.
He breathed in another heavy sigh as his thoughts turned from his wretched work space to Ororo. Buildings could be mended, carpets and floors could be changed, files could be replaced, but his relationship, he wasn't so sure about.
He kept playing the scene in his head all morning.
The way she looked commanding him to leave etched in his mind. So final, so decisive.
It was frustrating.
How could things change so suddenly?
Just days ago, they were intimate on more levels then one, close. Seemingly soul mates reunited after such a long space of time.
He had retreated to Salem to see her, to hold her. But all that came crashing down after seeing her with that theiven criminal, dressed to such gorgeous detail. Where had she gone with him? What were they doing? And better yet, was she planning on leaving him now that she was home?
It all hit him like a ton of bricks.
Ororo mentioned Remy a few times while they were in Adversary's world and he thought nothing of it. But after seeing him, features and all, things start to connect in his head.
Had Ororo known about her company?
He remembered accessing private files on a Remy Leabeau with a record in two states from bank robbery and carjacking to misdemeanor felonies. In Louisiana, he was pegged as belonging to a dangerous guild of thieves headed by someone named Jean-Luc. And if he recalled, Jean-Luc was being monitored by the FBI and SAFE for involvement in an embezzlement ring. Had she known how dangerous he truly was?
But when he witnessed the way her arms flung around him in a big show of affection, proclaiming her longing of how she missed him, he was too angry to care on that end.
The warmth she radiated sent an un- channeled anger throughout his body. Jealously had reared it's head in ways he never imagined existed.
He tried to leave, to give it space, but she persisted to follow him, pushing his buttons, insisting nothing and everything and under the pressure, he snapped.
He shouldn't have frightened her the way he did, shouldn't have kissed her so forcefully. But he was incensed and blinded by his rage.
At that moment in time, he couldn't put himself to apologize, or pacify how she ignored his feelings and sided with that thieving criminal.
Her disregard berated him.
It irked him to no end.
Had it really been over between them? That quickly, without much words or thoughts?
He hoped not. He would eventually give the matter some time, and then approach it again.
If anything he needed space, more then anyone could imagine.
He fumbled in his pocket pulling out the velvet box he had concealed there. Opening it briefly, a glitter of gold hit the sunlight before he closed it.
Before he had anymore time to sulk in heartbreak, his security monitor flashed a warning of intruders on the second level. Quickly bringing up the security cameras, they zoomed in for better leverage. Recognizing it to be Logan, or as the X-Men dubbed him, Wolverine, Forge felt a growing feeling of irritation.
Great Spirits, Not this guy.
No, he didn't have the energy to deal with this anomaly right now.
He watched him for a few more minutes as he sneaked around sniffing the air as he went.
Forge loosely fought the urge to fire lasers from the camera brandishing a solution to that hemorrhoid but refrained. If he ever wanted to make good with Ororo again, maiming her friends wasn't the way to do it. Besides, he always found himself to be more of diplomatic man.
Unlocking one of his artillery shelves that housed some of his favourite weapons, he chose a stun gun tweaked to specialty and made his way to the lower level.
Minutes passed before Logan's nose picked up on a warm scent. He had just reached the third level when Forge peered over the corner, a massive gun in hand, staring him down.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blast you to kingdom come."
Well this guy definitely got to the point, Wolverine thought vaguely impressed but held that information to himself.
"I'll give you two bub. One - You cant."
Forge raised a brow seemingly unimpressed.
"And the second?"
Wolverine raised his claws in a warning signal.
"You cant even if I let ya."
"You always this sure of yourself?"
Logan didn't need this now, inasmuch as he wanted to just slice the guys head off, he did know about a time and a place, and this was neither.
"Listen Chief Sittingcloud, I don't got time for this."
Chief Sittingcloud? Was that a racist slur? The nerve.
"And neither do I you diseased animal. Get to the point or get out. I got things to tend to."
The man had balls. Logan took a second to look around the the room they occupied.
"No shit. Literally. It's what this dump smells like. "
Growing impatient, Forge stepped closer to him.
"I don't think you came all this way to hang out in the condemned parts of the world just to berate me. What do you want?"
Agree to disagree.
" I need you for somethin'."
At that admittance, Forge's interest perked. It wasn't like they even had a mutual understanding let alone him coming to don a request.
"And that would be?"
"SAFE's got Storm down in Florida. I need you to bail her out. And don't tell me you cant cause I aint takin' no for an answer."
Logan took in the genuine look of worry that passed Forge's features.
"Why?"
Logan felt like smacking him. If Ro was his woman, he wouldn't be standing there asking stupid questions, only jumping to get it solved. Idiot.
Again, he calmed himself.
Agree to disagree.
" They're holdin' her for information she don't have. Just a bunch of suspicion. Look, you gonna help me or am I gonna have to do some coaxin'?"
With that Forge wanted to tell him to grow up as he flexed his claws and sneered. His song and dance was already growing old where he was concerned.
"I'm on it."
Well that was more like it.
Immediately watching him go to his pockets, and maneuvering to pull out his phone, he caught sight of a strange bulk. Not quite rectangular, but more square with a little definition. What was it? Maybe a zippo lighter? He didn't take Forge for the smoking type but what did he know? Maybe it was for his tobacco, pipe, peyote or whatever. After all, he was Native American and even a Shaman. They did crazy shit. Dismissing the thought as his shirt fell to cover it, he wondered why he even cared to begin with.
He could care less about this guy.
He soon tuned to Forge who was flipping his small sleek phone, seemingly government issued, open and asking questions.
"Who did you talk to?"
"Some guy, Billiard."
Forge paused.
"Young or older?"
"There's more then one? Older, probably a Vietnam vet. From the north, crazy sonava' bitch."
Logan trailed recalling the old man trying to restrain him with a bare hand. Crazy indeed.
Forge stopped momentarily, almost in thought at his words. Curious, he made a mental note of it. They had a history, apparently.
Either way, Forge was back to normal, all traces of thought gone as he could hear the faint ringing on the other end of his phone. Eventually, someone answered to which Forge dismissed himself to continue the conversation to next room. It was without merit as Wolverine, due to his keen sense of hearing, heard every word uttered. After a time, Forge reemerged.
"Well?"
"They're negotiating."
"It better be good news, bub."
Forge ignored him.
"For once, and probably the only time, I agree with you. Where's the rest of the team?"
Logan wanted to correct him. He meant his team but suddenly the reality hit him. Technically (and there were plenty of technicalities as far as he was concerned) Forge was an X-Man. God, that realization was like being resigned to Chinese water torture. Wanting to rip that revelation wide apart, he refrained. As it stood, he was an asset. And you don't go ripping up the assets before they've been used. Reluctantly, he responded.
"Outside downtown waitin'. I got the blackbird. I lead, you follow."
"For now. When we get there, just leave the talking to me."
Logan grumbled, but said nothing. He had to admit, as much as he didn't like him, the man could stand his ground.
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Tampa, Florida
Storm contended with the enclosed cell that held her. The vision of being the strong and proud leader coming to the defense of her team quickly diminished before it ever was born. It wasn't like she never experienced being locked up before, but that had been another time.
She had been another person.
Why had she felt so weak? So wrought with a roller coaster of emotions unrealizable?
Was the fact that Remy was possibly into something over his head causing her to loose her grip on the little control she did have?
It was a feeling so very out of herself, it harboured much alarm.
Being forced to change into a set of orange-like scrubs with all her accessories stripped, she watched as they were bagged and taken down hallway.
The door was locked and a guard was left standing on the outside. Probably the same one from earlier.
The cell was dark and tight, with only a dim light casting shadows on the concrete floor. The only thing that populated the room was a small table and chair. She refrained from them both and balled herself on the floor to the corner.
Darkness. She felt it, like her nightmares.
While she had tried to fight the tremors of fear that engulfed her, she failed miserably.
The rains descended on the outside, the thunder rumbled like a repeat of the morning.
She could feel the storm surging through her body, peaking and falling only for her.
Pushing her head further into her knees, she tried to block out the voices on the outside.
There had been a few curses announcing the downpour as a pestilence in rising the already present flood-waters.
She knew she should stop it, but couldn't focus.
She managed little redeeming of herself when booted footsteps had dragged down the hallway and stopped in front of her door.
The key quickly popped, and inside, Jackson Billiard entered.
He took in the formidable leader, in a ball on the floor with more then heartache set in her cerulean eyes.
He was alarmed to see this woman, previously well spoken and commanding succumbed like a small child full of fear at the world.
He ached for her. He liked her. He made his approach more gentle then usual.
"Look, Ms. Munroe. I am informed you control the elements. Are you causing this.. un-forcasted weather?"
Ororo cast her eyes down.
"I am sorry. I am trying to quiet it."
He eyed her curiously. What an intriguing ability she possessed. It was then he realized there was nothing within their immediate grasp that could restrain her if she chose to leave or fly into a berserk rage. She was fighting to keep a level of control, knowing that she could level the entire place with a mere suggestion. Amazed that she humbled herself as far to be taken in, he found a new sense of appreciation and respect for the woman. Feeling a bit in fear of her, maybe that explained the next question he asked.
"What is bothering you?"
"I'm claustrophobic. I fear this enclosed space is setting off my emotions and the weather is reacting to them."
Almost instantly, he moved to the hallway and said something to the guard before returning.
"Then we'll put you somewhere else. Come with me."
Offering a hand to her, she took it.
"Thank you."
She managed to show courtesy among all this. What type of woman was this?
After a few minutes Ororo was relocated to a bigger room that housed a furnished couch, and two chairs. Definitely a step up from the bleak interrogation rooms. He also had some food brought up, which Ororo couldn't bring herself to eat. After a time, the rain all but stopped and concluding she was more comfortable, Billiard moved in for questioning. He approached it carefully, a fear present.
"Look Ms. Munroe. I'm going to need all the information you have on Remy Leabeau."
She paused as if formluting her words carefully. She never felt lying payed off, so chose to share general truths. They already had general truths.
"Remy and I go back ad least fifteen years. We grew up in New Orleans together. We both were a little misguided, true. But life is full of surprises, and you do what you can to get by when your orphaned and poor. We stole, probably more then we should. We robbed some banks, spent time in Juvenile centers. It's not one of my shining moments, but I served it learned my lesson and turned around. Look, I know your anxious to find answers to whatever went down with your department and those bombings, but this is the raw truth - I know Remy. He might be a thief, but he would never go as far to kidnap or murder anyone. He has his limits."
"What do you mean limits?"
"He's a thief, not an assassin. The two parties don't exactly mix."
"Are you referring to tha' Guilds creed?"
"I am referring to what I know of Remy. Nothing more nothing less."
Intrigued to find her telling the truth but deciding to hold back details all in the same breath, he pushed it a bit further.
"When is the last time you saw Remy?"
Ororo paused. She didn't want to say anything but that mornings events flooded through her mind . Billiard looked at her, almost sensing her doubts and it was then she knew her best defense to helping Remy was convincing him of his character. She was sure Billiard had a respect for her, especially after he said nothing when she told him and his men to stand down.
" Recently. But I don't know where he is."
"How recent?"
Should she? She had spoken enough already. But something screamed at her to tell the truth regardless.
"This morning."
At that Jackson head snapped.
"What time this morning and where?"
She should just shut her mouth right here, deny to share anything more. As it stood, she did have the upper edge. He was scared of her. The way he looked at her after she professed her control of the elements had sealed that. She didn't know why, but felt the urge to answer him anyway.
"Around 5:30 to 6:00. In New York. He left after that.. I'm not sure when."
There was a long pause after that bit of information, from which he said nothing. He took in that morsel like it had been a sealed confession all on its own but then excused himself when a sharp ring escaped his phone.
He excused himself and was gone for a few minutes.
Thinking back to herself, she wondered why she had said that. It was apparently not a good thing.
It was back to convincing Billiard Remy wasn't involved in any of this. And that was something she was more determined to stress tooth and nail when he returned.
After a time,Jackson entered again, a bemused smirk on this face.
"You've got company, Ms. Munroe. Here, Change."
At that, he threw her the bag with her clothes and the rest of her belongings.
Bewildered she took it. What was going on? After a few more minutes she was fully dressed and then escorted down the white washed hallway until they came up to the lobby.
With much surprise, Ororo took in Forge standing there.
A flood of feelings and confusion accompanying her.
Well that would explain the abrupt departure, but then again, not really.
"Your free to go Ms. Munroe."
She walked slowly towards him as he signed a few papers, and then exchanged some glances between Billiard.
Billiard walked past her again after noting the looks Forge gave him and then headed back in the direction she just came from, but not before put a hand on her arm.
"Thank you for being so understanding. My apologies for your discomfort."
As he began to leave, she stopped him.
"But what about..."
Jackson showed a passive look.
"I would not worry about it."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I am sorry for the confusion. Good day Ms. Munroe."
And at that, he removed his hand and continued on, the guards following suit behind him.
Confused, she caught Forge eyeing her. Although he seemed to hold the same gaze she had grown accustomed too, it seemed different.
Off.
Something didn't sit well with her, but now was not the time nor the place to think on that.
Walking towards him unable to hide her surprise, he was quick to respond to it.
"Wolverine filled me in on what happened. I came as quickly as I could."
Words seemed not to come to her. She was still too surprised over what just happened and how quickly it was squashed.
Forge didn't like Remy, she remembered the look in his eyes that morning. Something wasn't right. Something was terribly off, but she pulled that thought from her mind.
"Are you okay, Ororo?"
She struggled before returning to a sense of normal.
"Yeah, um, thank you."
He smiled curtly, kissing her hand.
"Your welcome. Care to get out of here now?"
And with that he offered his hand, and she took it but spared a few glances back, thoughts flaring like wildfire.