Dad's been in school. Just finished his associate's degree. Sorry for the long wait. It's short but to the point.
He enjoyed this time of year in his homeland. Fall was nicer, with foliage changing colors and some of the first snows appearing. But autumn led to winter and Bavaria became blistery cold in those months. Summer was not a pleasure either for him due to some previous scorching temperatures.
But spring seemed to last an eternity for him. The snows began to melt and the large drifts across the country began to get smaller and smaller. The rivers started to rise because of the melting process and most streams overflowed their banks. A new system of barricades around these streams and rivers at the major overflow points had never helped, except to erode away the embankments which invariably made matters worse.
Yet the beauty of Bavaria always impressed him. It did not matter where he went in the world, no place was this beautiful. He knew it was due to his birth there, but he realized that many people felt the same way about their native home. He had seen some beautiful places, but none struck him the way Bavaria did in the spring of the year.
He had returned home to tend to his elderly surrogate mother. She had been ill for a couple of years and was now near death. It saddened him to know that she would no longer be there for him. Frankly, she had been the only one. His birth was repugnant to his natural mother, a woman he never knew. The story was his father rescued him from death and he had been given to a sorceress who practiced in a circus. He was well accepted there by all the other "freaks;" Circus people knew how hard it was on mutants. They were the only ones ever able to identify completely with the group due to their own strange idiosyncrasies and deformities.
They were the only ones to accept him as he was. Most knew him as Nightcrawler, a mutant from birth. Only a few called him by his real name, Kurt Wagner. Thanks to a device made for him by Charles Xavier, he had no longer to appear in public as a "freak." The image inducer gave him a "normal" human appearance. He had enjoyed using it. Returning home, though, he knew that Margali, his surrogate mother, would only accept his true form, so he did not use the inducer around her.
Months ago, though, the "cure" had been found. Kurt had taken it. It had not worked. Doctors were puzzled as to why he was not affected and ran many tests on him. Their discovery was that his genetic structure had been inherited from his birth mother and that the genetic profile they came up with from his DNA showed strong mutant traits dating back many generations. There was no cure for Kurt Wagner. Only the image inducer made him "human."
Disappointed, he had remained depressed for several weeks. He tried to console himself in his faith, but the "Why me?" syndrome seemed to hold him. He could not understand why it had to happen to him. Why did he have to be the "blue devil" as some had monikered him? It was on Margali's death bed that she said to him, "My boy, you are not a devil spirit. You, as everyone on earth, are here for a reason. Keep your faith. Learn and grow from it. Do not turn your back on your God, for He will never turn His back on you."
With that, she had closed her eyes and breathed her last. Kurt was still holding her hand kneeling beside the bed, his blue face and yellow eyes just above the mattress, looking up at her. He felt the death rattle as she inhaled her dying breath and watched her body go limp. A tear slid down his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned to kiss her hand. "Good-bye, mother," he whispered softly. "Sleep in peace. I will honor your request and never shirk my faith."
That was five days ago. Two days later, Margali was laid to rest in a mausoleum in a ornate tomb that Kurt provided for. He did not want her to be forgotten and had enshrined her in an elaborate tomb. He had told the funeral director that price was no object. He wanted the best for her. And she got what he wanted.
Now it was time to return to his comrades in America. The news had been all over the wire services. Magneto was back, stronger and more dangerous. The problem was nobody knew where he was. He had threatened every world leader and government and had threatened a new order, a mutant order, where mutants ruled and vowed to wipe humans from the face of the earth. Kurt somewhat understood where Magneto was coming from. Mutants were nothing more than circus freaks to most and were treated even worse. Only Hank McCoy seemed to do more for mutant rights than anyone as of late, but Kurt had seen the footage from the failed conference where hundreds had died and McCoy had barely escaped with his life. All this had happened right around the time of Margali's death. He had been too involved with her arrangements to leave, but now it was time.
Unfortunately, security was extremely tight the world over. Travel visas, passports, and the like were scrutinized carefully by all transportation security officials. Getting back to the States was not going to be easy, even though he could just as easily slip through security by his teleportation trait. The problem with that is the image inducer slowed down the teleportation process. If he were to teleport easily, he had to remain in his true form. Going out in public like that and being seen even for an instant would be detrimental to his task. Obvious mutants were being questioned at every turn, and those that were known mutants with human appearance were seemingly harassed even more, although according to governmental agencies it wasn't happening.
The question on everyone's minds, though, was "Where is Magneto?" It had been nearly a week since the tragedy in San Francisco's District X, and it was as though Eric Lensherr and his entourage had disappeared off the face of the earth. The upper level security agencies such as the FBI, CIA and even Scotland Yard were in a quandary over his whereabouts. The British group Intel had no idea either. Most figured he was "laying low," awaiting the perfect opportunity when security relaxed. He would not get the chance soon it seemed because top level officials continually changed security measures every day, including shift operations. It was meant to confuse the opponent and keep everyone on their toes, but it was really confusing to lower level personnel who could not keep up with a lot of the changes.
Kurt noticed this as he kept up with intelligence news reports that somehow "leaked" to news agencies. He shook his head at the latest security leak. You must keep quiet, he thought. Magneto is listening to all of this. He has intelligence, too. And you leaks are giving him ammunition.
No more so than as today. Nightcrawler was traveling to Munich to try to catch a flight out. Hopefully he would be in the United States within a day or two, depending on how well and fast air flight and security was. The trip was not a long one. He had some old circus friends that had retired in Bavaria about two hours out from Munich. The one he knew as "Boris the Russian Strong Man" gave him a ride to the airport. Kurt thought of how Boris might stand up to the X-Man known as Colossus in an arm wrestling competition. He smiled. Or a real wrestling match, tussling with the organic steel behemoth on the ground, he thought. That would be amusing. He knew who would possibly win, so he did not suggest it to the man.
The ride was on a beautiful day. Blue skies, very few clouds, and the fresh scent of newly budding flowers alongside the country road they traveled. Kurt thought about the lovely flowers along the route to the German chancellor's home. He had always enjoyed that route. It was fresh and vibrant with color and it warmed him to see such beauty in a country who was once war torn not so long ago. He had seen the old photographs and movie reels of that terrible time. Margali had told him of the holocaust where millions of Jews died at the hands of the Nazi regime all because they were not the "superior race." He saw how Hitler had treated them and anyone who threatened him, even his own military commanders who knew the Fuhrer had to be insane. Kurt was also familiar with Eric Lensherr's past, how he was interned in one of those prison camps and assisted killing thousands of Jews. He lowered his head and eyes with the thought, thinking now how Eric was doing exactly what he had hated then, killing the "inferior race," and anyone who sided with them. He has come full circle, Kurt thought. The student has become the "master race."
"Boris?"
Boris glanced at him. "Yeah, bud, what is it?"
"Can we take the long way to the airport?"
"Sure, my friend. Where do you want to go?"
"I want to go by the chancellor's house."
Boris smiled. "The flowers?"
Kurt looked straight ahead deep in thought. "Yes," he responded, "and perhaps something else."
The drive through the Bavarian countryside was not as relaxing to Kurt as it normally was. Perhaps it was the recent events in his life that occupied his thoughts but it seemed to be something more. He had developed an uneasy feeling about the trip even though he knew it was what he had to do. He spoke aloud his thoughts and surprised Boris.
"No," he stated, "it's not that. There's a feeling in the air."
"What?" Boris responded.
Kurt turned to face him. "What?" he echoed.
Boris kept his eyes on the road. "You said something about a feeling in the air?"
He did not think he had said it aloud. "It is nothing," he replied.
Boris relaxed behind the wheel hoping the gesture would help relax Kurt. "Come on, Kurt," he said, "I know you better than that. Something's bothering you."
Kurt straightened in the seat. "I have a feeling that the chancellor is in trouble," he said.
"You sure?" he queried.
Kurt gathered his thoughts. "Yes, yes, I am quite sure. Speed up, will you? We may already be too late."
Boris gunned the accelerator and the car's passing gear kicked in, increasing their speed abruptly and pushing them back into their seats.
The situation looked normal as they approached the chancellor's residence. Guards had been posted every fifty feet around the perimeter. Getting in that property would be difficult for anyone, Kurt imagined. The smell of all the flowers in the area filled the air. Kurt inhaled deeply, enjoying the varied aromas. To him, this was one of the prettiest areas in all Bavaria. A veritable cascade of flowers existed here, most of them well kept by the local German government utility employees.
He did not enjoy the fragrances long, however, for as they neared the chancellor's house, an explosion rocked the area. The guards in front of the house were mostly thrown into the street, while others fell where they stood. Boris slammed on the brakes and he and Nightcrawler watched in horror as the chancellor's house exploded. A large piece of the front siding barely missed the car thanks to Boris' quick action. Debris was flying everywhere and sirens were now going off. Kurt looked at the sidewalk in front of the house and noticed that several guards lay dead and others bleeding. Two or three in the street were slowly getting up. A massive cloud of smoke and flame rose in the air from where the house had stood.
Kurt and Boris got out and helped the nearest guard to his feet.
"Are you all right?" Kurt asked.
The guard rubbed his aching head. "Ya, I will be fine, mein herr, but the chancellor. . ." his voice trailed off.
Boris queried him. "What about the chancellor?"
Boris and Kurt were stunned speechless when the guard said, "He was in there."
"So what happened to your parents?" Misty asked. The trip to San Francisco was almost over. The two had sat quietly for about an hour. Now Mystique was inquiring about the girl's past, one she already knew.
"I'm not sure," Marie responded. "My Aunt Carrie took me in after some tragedy befell them. I didn't stay long. I ran away. I ran into my first mutants who soon became what I call my surrogate parents." She chuckled.
"What's funny?"
Marie sighed and continued. "I was thinking of the irony of it all. My surrogate parents were two mutants named Mystique and Destiny. Mystique was a bad sort with blue skin and a terrible temper and devious mind. Destiny was a little better, but could really take you down in the heat of battle. Anyway, they were the only ones who ever seemed to care about me."
"Mystique? Isn't she the one that ran with Magneto?"
Rogue grinned, looking forward. "Yeah, until he deserted her when she got hit with the cure and was no longer a mutant. She was put in a maximum security women's facility not long ago."
Misty changed the subject. "So how long have you had that power?"
Marie sighed again. "Since I was a teenager. I'll never forget when I discovered it." She paused, the painful memory returning seemingly to haunt her again. "There was this boy I liked a lot. His name was Cody Robbins. Finally one day he kissed me." Another pause. "It was my first kiss." She lowered her eyes, remembering. "All of a sudden my mind was filled with his memories. I broke the kiss, but it was too late. He slipped into a coma and I don't think he ever came out of it."
Mystique put her hand on the girl's shoulder. "That must be terrible," she said sympathetically.
"Thanks," came the reply. "I still have all those memories. I don't lose them. Once I absorb anything from a person it becomes a permanent part of me."
There was a pause in their conversation, then Marie spoke again.
"I took up with Mystique's group, the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. We did basically whatever we wanted for a while."
Mystique was intrigued with what the girl remembered. She was not so impressed with Rogue's description of her, though. She tried probing deeper questions. "Do you remember much about that?"
Rogue chuckled again. "Oh, yeah. It wasn't that long ago. It's not something I'm proud of. It felt wrong sometimes. About like what I'm attempting to do now. But I guess I still have some criminal element in me to want to see Worthington dead.
"I joined up with the X-Men not too far back. I wanted a change from running. That's what it felt like when I was with the Brotherhood. We were always running, hiding. Besides, the first and last battle I was in with the 'good guys' turned me off. I ended up in a fight with the one they called Ms. Marvel."
"Who won?"
Marie frowned. "I did. I absorbed all her abilities and memories."
"What happened to Ms. Marvel?"
"I think she's still around. I'm not real sure." Marie shook her head. "It doesn't matter now anyway. That's in the past. What's done is done."
"You sound like you're having second thoughts about this vendetta trip you're on."
Vendetta? Marie looked at the woman. She had had second thoughts for a while now. This was the same woman who said she'd help just a short while ago, isn't it? Marie knew it was, but the word "vendetta" was like a cold slap in the face. She had never considered what she was doing as a vendetta. She supposed she had stared too long when Misty spoke.
"What? You never considered that, did you?"
Marie lied outright. "Yeah, I did," she said resolutely. She turned from Mystique and searched the bus floor with her eyes as if an answer were to be found there. "I want him dead." Even as she said the words, a cold chill ran through her. She allowed it to pass. With more resolve, knowing without it that she could not go through with it, she said, "I want Warren Worthington Jr. dead."
Then she added, "By my hands."
Mystique turned away from the girl and smiled.
Two hours later the bus pulled into the major terminal for San Francisco.
