Wow. Chapter 10 Already. Holy crap!
Well, a major shout out to Chellerbelle - my faithful reviewer!!! Thank you! You make me feel loved!!
Chapter 10
A grip had settled on his hand, and then on his arm, tightening fiercely and heaving at him.
Was it a grownup?
No. A grownup would have pulled him up easily. Whoever this was pulling him up with painful slowness.
"Don' jus' lay dere, stupid!" cried a voice. "Help me!"
The darkness threatening to swamp his vision immediately fell away and he got a good look at a green tank top before closing his eyes and digging his sneakers into the concrete and scrambling to get up.
As he desperately climbed, there was a sharp rip and suddenly he was kicking at the wall in torn sneakers and socks. The hands on his arms pulled firmly and he managed to kick off the wall hard enough to land his skinny chest on the ground.
The hold on his arms lugged him further away from the edge and soon he was lying flat on his face in the dirt, gasping for breath. The hands on his limbs vanished and suddenly flipped and him onto his back. He was propped up and whacked hard on the back.
Instantly, it felt as though his stomach was convulsing as he vomited up water desperately, dribbling it all down his front.
The hits on his back soon turned into gentle stroking and the voice that had shouted at him spoke to him quietly and rather frightened. "Are y'okay?"
He slowly turned and looked at his savior.
Pretty…
Beep
Beep
Beep
Beep
Moaning, Vincent groped for his brand new alarm clock and slapped it into silence.
"Better get a move on, mate," came the groggy voice of his roommate.
With enormous willpower, he lifted the covers from his head and stared at his friend as the other pulled on a uniform of black cloth that wasn't leather with a pattern of dark red and orange flames on his shoulders that extended down his arms to the very tips of his sleeves. It actually looked pretty cool – in a dorky sort of way.
Not as cool as some of the other uniforms, but better than his anyway. A loincloth would be better than his uniform.
"James?"
"MM?" groaned the redhead as he adjusted his black combat boots.
"When did y'get y'own uniform?" If he was going to be stuck here for a while he didn't want to have to be stuck in such a horrific outfit.
"What? Oh, we all get our own customized uniforms once we get onto a team. Don't worry, mate. They'll probably do yours after school."
"Good, 'cause Ah hate dis t'ing." He plucked at the skin tight mess of navy and yellow leather.
"What kind of uniform did you have in mind?"
"Somet'in' dark blue Ah guess," he said with a shrug. "An' black 'course."
"Nobody but Noelle and Alana wear dark blue."
"On secon' t'ought, maybe dark green an' black. Better camouflage."
"Why don't you like Noelle?" James asked, standing up.
He was saved from answering by a loud pounding on the door. It was Wolverine.
"Get going, Matches, Knife," the man growled – could he do anything but growl and snarl? "Danger Room session's in ten."
"Got it, Logan," James assured him. "Ready, Vinny?"
"Don't call me Vinny."
"Why not?"
Vincent finished pulling on the hideous yellow boots and got up. "Do Ah freakin' look lahke a Vinny?"
His roommate leaned back a bit and squinted up at him. "Maybe a little around the eyes. And the nose. You've got a Vinny nose."
Rolling his eyes, he pushed past the shorter boy and into the hall where he could see the Thief boy and Alexei walking down the corridor. "Dat mean Ah c'n call y' Jimmy?"
"Only if you let me call you Vinny! And me mum says I've got the face of a Jimmy!"
He couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. "Y'r crazier dan Ah am, mon ami!"
Someone was behind him.
It was the tall blonde, Monica Worthington, dressed in a slick, stylish black and gold uniform. She looked both annoyed and agonizingly hot.
"Bonjour, mademoiselle."
"Save it," she snapped, grabbing his arm and James – Jimmy's – ear. "You guys are gonna make us late and you're gonna wake all the younger students up!"
"May Ah consider dis foreplay?"
She spun and glared at him, though there was a slight smile and blush working at her lips and cheeks. "No."
Less than five minutes later he was in the briefing room, a large circular room with benches all along the wall in an almost stadium like design, and a large rectangular table at the center and lowest point of the room. About twenty chairs stood around the chair and each one was filled with the instructors and team leaders.
Vincent ticked them off in his head.
Professor X.
Wolverine.
Cyclops – the dad of Charles Summers. As stick-up-the-ass as his son.
Storm – beautiful and in his good graces since she had allowed him to raid the refrigerator the nights the Thief girls had cooked.
Beast – an awesome doctor who had given him a physical a few days ago.
Talon – Wolverine's daughter who, gorgeous as she was, gave him the creeps.
Havok – Talon's husband, and Cyclops' younger brother with none of his stiffness.
Iceman – a jokester who had ice-cold hands and very corny sense of humor.
Jubilee – Iceman's wife who served as the adult gossip relay for the entire school.
Forge – the ultimate techie who always had grease on his arms and a slightly distracted air even when he didn't have his hands buried in the belly of some machine.
Sage – a dark haired beauty with the personality of a cottonmouth.
Cicero – major asshole.
Edward "Sunwing" Worthington – good looking and good-natured with huge golden wings.
Alana "Sprite" Wagner – blue with dark hair and a kind smile.
Denzel "Stone" Washington – the huge black guy who looked at the Thief girl like she was the Second Coming.
There were five empty chairs but no one tried to sit in them, choosing instead to take seats on the bench along the wall. He sat between James and the girl Bridget, dressed in black and soft grey.
"Good morning, Vincent Boudreaux. Good morning, James Allerdyce."
"Morning, Bridget," James yawned. "What's happening?"
"We will start eleven seconds past five thirty. Professor Xavier will welcome us and explain the purpose of the Danger Room and then allow Wolverine and Cyclops to explain the exercise."
"W'as da exercise?" Don' let it be Sentinels again. Please God!
A small smile stretched across the girl's face. "It will be a search and rescue exercise, Vincent Boudreaux."
Vincent sighed in relief. That was better.
James, however, groaned loudly. "Bloody hell, couldn't they have given us something easier? Sentinels maybe?"
"What da hell are y'talkin' about? Y'd rather dodge around a giant robot dan rescue somebody?"
"You don't understand, mate. Search and rescue sessions are completely unpredictable. We are going to be in such deep shit. What a way to start the year."
Before he could question the other boy any further, the Professor raised his hand for silence, which fell immediately. "Good morning, everyone. I trust you are all ready for this morning's session?"
A loud groan greeted this and the man smiled. "Very good. Now, for our newer students, the Danger Room was built to assist in the training of young and developing mutants. For these beginning practices, the safeties will be on and you will be completely safe. However, I must stress that what we are training you to face in the outside world is entirely real. There have been casualties –"
There was a moment of silence at this and Cyclops and Cicero bowed their heads. It a while for the Professor to resume speaking.
"-and we do not wish that this should ever happen to you. Now, I will hand this over to Wolverine and Cyclops to explain today's objective. Good luck."
******************************
Noelle sat between her brother and Julia, half-listening to the briefing even as she fidgeted with her uniform. It would be in tatters by the end of the hour, she knew. Neither Beast nor Forge had been able to design a suitable fabric that could hold up to the amount of stress she put it under when she flew.
Finally Wolverine ordered for them to get into their teams and report to the Danger Room.
"A tout a l'heure, mon frère," she said quickly, kissing her brother on the cheek and walking away with Julia to join Cicero and Atlas.
Vincent joined them, casting a suspicious glance at her that she calmly ignored.
As they set out towards the Danger Room, she slipped into the mindset of Kestrel and began sorting out her team's dynamic. It was simple for the most part as she had known all of her teammates for quite a while.
Alexei – Atlas – was the anchor of their team. A veritable rock of good sense, gentleness, and loyalty, but fiercely powerful and stubborn to the core. He was also her brother's best friend, and that more than made up for any of the faults he might have had.
Julia – Bijou – was the real body of sheer intelligence. Under that valley girl accent was a keen brain that rivaled every student's except for Bridget, who didn't count. As Julia she could be a ditz, but as Bijou there was little that got past her.
Charles – Cicero – was the leader, for better or worse. He was a cunning fighter and had his moments as leader when nothing spoiled his meticulously laid plans and rules. But he could be stiff, arrogant and completely focused on the mission, forgetting his teammates.
Vincent – Sniper, she had heard he called himself – had the potential to be a great ally or a terrible enemy. Her father had told her how the Assassins were trained and the stories he told her were dark and frightening. There was no doubt that Vincent was a cunning and vicious fighter, she had seen his fight with Lucien that first day; he was a killer, plain and simple. But he had gone to get James at her request when Fatima had lost control of herself. It seemed that Lady Belladonna had not totally killed the humanity in her son. His heart was still there. She wondered how he would mesh with her team.
Which brought her thoughts to herself and her own place in the team.
Noelle had been brought up in New Orleans by the combined efforts of her Mama, Daddy, Oncle Henri, Tante Mercy, and Tante Mattie. Taught to be independent and quick on her feet, Kestrel could work both with a team and by herself. She was usually the one to come up with desperate last minute, last chance plans when everything was going to hell and the shit was hitting the fan.
"So… um… Sniper?" Bijou asked, twisting her hands. "What're your powers?"
He launched into an explanation of molecules and attractions but she ignored all of this, zeroing in on the main idea of it all. "Ah don't miss."
"Shall we get dis show on da road?" she asked, hands going to her trusty staffs strapped on her thighs.
"Let's go," Cicero commanded as the huge metal doors of one of the compartments of the Danger Room slid open.
The five stepped inside and the doors immediately closed around them with a soft hiss, effectively casting them into darkness. Suddenly, light lit up around them and Javelin found itself surrounded by several battalions of soldiers both on the ground and in helicopters buzzing in midair.
"Da effin' hell?" Sniper growled. "T'ought dis was search an' rescue!"
"People get caught in search and rescue missions," Atlas explained tersely. "Plan, Cicero?"
Cicero looked slightly taken aback by the sudden appearance of all the enemies. "Take them out. Kestrel, try to see if you can find out where our hostage is. Remember, we don't want to kill anybody. Let's move!"
"Quoi?" Sniper howled at their backs as they all charged forward. "How da hell're we supposed ta win t'ought killin' –"
Kestrel leapt into the air and, as always, had to resist the urge to laugh and whoop as air rushed past her cheeks. Shots brushed against her and one grazed her neck, releasing a small stream of blood.
Instantly, she could feel the wild hum of adrenaline rushing through her veins and she pushed her speed up past seventy mph and grabbed one of the rotors of a helicopter, knocking it off balance. It took only a quick squeeze to crunch the steel in her slender gloved hands.
Darting through the air like her namesake animal she took out helicopter after helicopter, shrugging off everything from bullets to RPGs. In less than five minutes, she was the only thing still in the air. Her role completed, she looked down to see how her friends were doing.
Cicero had a dozen or so soldiers on the ground, mentally beating them into submission. Bijou was briskly charging through the chaos, her skin diamond hard and shining in the harsh spotlights. Atlas was crushing an Army jeep in his hands like a soda can. Sniper…
Where was Sniper?
There he was, fighting hand-to-hand against three soldiers, showing off his expert abilities. But there were too many for him; he took one down and five popped up to take his place.
Sighing deeply, Kestrel dove through the air and landed next to her teammate. A sudden feeling of heaviness told her that the cut on her neck had stopped bleeding, effectively halting her strength and invulnerability. Looked like there would be no throwing men around like baseballs for her. With yet another sigh, her hands went to her thighs and she took up her twin staffs.
"Dis, Assassin-boy!"
His dark blue eyes shot towards her and his jaw tightened. She could see his fight to keep from killing her and ignored it.
"Take dis," she ordered him, tossing him one of the sturdy carbon steel sticks.
He caught it in one hand and stared at it as though she had given him a poisonous snake.
"W'as dis supposed ta be?"
"Whadda y' t'ink?" she said, rolling her eyes and squeezing her own staff.
The six inch long length of metal lengthened smoothly to about six feet. Twirling the staff expertly in her hand, she ducked her head and began the fight. Her body easily fell into the moves her father and mother had both taught her.
There was a reason Jean-Luc, Patriarch of the Thieves Guild, had literally cried when she had told him that she had no intention of joining the 'family business'.
****************************
Vincent stared from the stick in his hand, to the silvery flash that was landing man after man onto his face, back, and ass, to the slender girl wielding it. She was good, really, really good.
She was also a Thief. And she had given him one of her weapons.
His mother had always told him that anything touched by a Thief was unclean – unless it touched their blood, then it was sacred – but the large number of soldiers closing in on him, raising rifles as they came, told him to use the damn stick.
He'd boil his hands later.
****************************
When they finally made it through the sea of enemy forces, they were then obliged to sneak into something that vaguely resembled Fort Knox.
Cicero had tried to lay out a plan, but had to stop when he realized that the Thief was no longer with them. Sniper watched in amusement as the uptight young man snarled furiously to Atlas and Bijou about her 'complete lack of regard for anyone but herself' and had to hold back a laugh when the idiot demanded 'why didn't she tell me what she was doing?'
To this, Bijou had to answer, "She did, Cicero. Four times. You just kept nodding and telling her to shut up and let you think."
"How long ago was that?!"
"About ten minutes ago?"
"Me voici."
It was the Thief girl, coming down to land lightly among them, the tiny form of Fatima on her back. "Ah've got her."
Instantly, the monotone female voice of the Danger Room sounded. "Objective completed. Simulation ending."
The dark surroundings vanished into cold metal and the doors opened to let them out into the hall where Talon and Iceman were waiting to grade them.
"Not too bad," Iceman said brightly. "Cicero, you've gotta start listening to your teammates. You should have known that sneaking into a high security base would be right up Kestrel's alley. And Sniper, good first run. But don't forget you're on a team now."
"You were not in sync," Talon said flatly. "Cicero, if you cannot keep track of your team, perhaps you are not ready to be a captain.
"Bijou, Atlas, that was a good strategy to stick together, but you cannot forget about the others.
"Sniper, you have a lot potential, but you are not a one man show. There are others around you who are there to help you, do not forget that. And do forget that the X-Men do not take unnecessary casualties. Your actions would have lead to the deaths of seven soldiers. That is unacceptable; you were trained as an Assassin. You should have more control."
He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from retaliating, but his ears perked up at what she said next.
"Kestrel. Remember your time limit on your strength and invulnerability. You cut it very close. However, you showed great presence of mind to bring down the airborne threats first and then going to provide backup to your teammate. There is nothing much I can say about your performance in the retrieving of the hostage –"
"If dat's da case," the Thief girl said, cutting her off. "C'n Ah get da permission ta take dis petite fille back ta her room an' get da rest o' mes petites ready foh school?"
She motioned to the sleepy looking girl still cradled in her arms. "If Ah don' get started soon, we all be late."
"Very well. You may go."
Vincent watched as his target, her uniform fraying badly at the seams, began to walk away, then stop.
"Ah, Vincent," she said, looking over her shoulder at him. "Are y' plannin' on stealin' mah staff, or may Ah have it back?"
She dared to hint that he was a Thief? His fingers gripped his knife longingly and he tossed the staff back. She caught it easily, then turned and left.
He wondered if he should use rubbing alcohol or boiling water to cleanse his hands of her. Of course, if it had been up to his mother, he would have cut his hands off after he cut her throat. Good thing he wasn't going to tell her.
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A tout a l'heure, mon frère - "See you later, my brother"
Quoi - "What"
Dis - "Hey"
Me voici - "Here I am"