Methos ran down the hallway, sword gripped tightly in his hand. Wolverine followed closely on his heels. Methos was glad that it was the feral mutant who had come after him rather than either of the Boyscouts. There were things that needed to be done that Scott and MacLeod would balk at, but that Logan would know were necessary. Methos had never before appreciated just how much Wolverine reminded him of Kronos. Both were forces of nature and they simply ploughed through anyone who opposed them. Methos stopped when he came to a familiar corridor. He looked ahead, down the hallway to where Ballard's office was before he stepped up to the keypad. Ballard would have to wait a few minutes.
"Don't have much time," Wolverine told him.
"Have to tie up loose ends," he replied as he punched in the code he remembered. The light on the keypad flashed red and the door remained shut. Methos gave a frustrated growl. Ballard had obviously changed the code.
"Move over," Wolverine said gruffly. Methos glared at him, but did so. Wolverine punched the keypad, his blades destroying the circuitry. The keypad sparked and the door slid open.
"Lighter," he demanded and Wolverine handed it over without complaint. Acting quickly, Methos began to set Ballard's research on fire. Whatever survived of the base, he had to make sure that no one else would find it.
Methos turned and walked determinedly out of the room.
"Now we finish it," he said.
...
Cyclops and MacLeod jogged through the passages, on the lookout for any more soldiers, as they made their way to the exit. Many had already been taken care of, either when they made their way into the base, or by Storm and Nightcrawler as they made their way through the base. The rest had probably fled. Cyclops looked speculatively at MacLeod. There was a lot about the situation that simply didn't make sense to him.
"What was going on with you and Adam? What did he mean by more of you would be coming?" he asked finally. The other man seemed to hesitate before he answered.
"Did Me… did Adam tell you what he is?" MacLeod had to know because Methos must have been playing an angle of some sort. Methos was always playing an angle.
"Just that he's part of a group that calls itself Immortals."
"How much did he tell you about us?" he asked, hoping that Methos had been his usual discreet self. He wasn't too sure that he wanted mutants to be aware of the existence of Immortals. Whatever Methos thought, MacLeod wasn't that foolish. The war between mutants and humans already had enough sides and problems without adding Immortals into the mix. Whatever exactly had happened at the base was a clear example of that.
"He said that you heal and because of that your lifespan was lengthened."
"That much is true, but we can also absorb power from each other," MacLeod admitted, because he had a feeling that he wouldn't be allowed to leave without at least some explanation. "Some of the more… ruthless of us will be coming here to do just that."
"And the swords?" Cyclops asked, because that was what really intrigued him about the whole setup.
"How we absorb power."
"And that's why Ballard wanted Adam? So that he could use this power?"
"I would assume so."
They were at the exit now and MacLeod spotted two other mutants that he hadn't seen yet. He assumed that these were the ones who set the explosives. The mutant that Methos had called 'Scott' immediately went over to the other two. MacLeod hesitated because he knew that he had to get to Amy before the influx of Immortals started, and it would be soon, but he also didn't want to leave until he knew that Methos had made it out alright.
...
Methos and Wolverine continued down the passage, hurrying because they only had fifteen minutes left before the charges went off. Methos shifted his grip on his sword slightly before barging into Ballard's office.
Ballard looked up from his desk where he had been gathering folders. The soldiers who had accompanied him moved to stand in front of him, forming a barrier between Ballard and the two men. Methos ignored them completely and kept his eyes on Ballard.
"Kill him," Ballard demanded.
"Not the target I had in mind," Methos commented idly.
Ballard looked briefly surprised before he realised that the serum had worn off.
"Shoot them," he ordered the soldiers.
The soldiers immediately began to fire their weapons, but Methos and Wolverine were already in motion. Methos was upon the first soldier, smoothly gutting him before he went immediately for Ballard. He left Wolverine to deal with the other three.
"This isn't the way it's supposed to go," Ballard said. "You're supposed to be the end of them."
"That's the problem with plans," Methos said as continued forward, watching Ballard warily, because the man always seemed to have something up his sleeve. "You should always have a back-up."
Ballard drew a gun when Methos got too close and took several steps backwards, keeping the Immortal at a distance. Methos hesitated, because while it didn't look like a tranquiliser gun, he knew that Ballard wouldn't use a normal gun after he made his so called improvements.
"I'm practically invincible now, and I have you to thank for that," Methos said casually, keeping his distance, waiting for a chance to strike. "Let me show you just how appreciative I am," he added with a cruel smile.
"We had an agreement," Ballard objected.
"The one where you tortured me and then took away my free will?"
Ballard began to look uneasy. He glanced quickly at his soldiers, to see when they would be finished with the mutant and deal with the immortal. Once they returned the immortal to his cell then everything would be alright. He'd been rationing the serum since there was only a finite supply left, but there were other, messier, ways to control him.
Methos smiled menacingly as he slowly stepped forward. He would never admit to it, but he had been afraid of this mortal who could strip him of his own mind, but he saw now that Ballard was a desperate man clinging to an already failed plan.
"Then you're no longer of any use," Ballard said as he steadied his aim, his finger on the trigger.
"Wouldn't recommend it, bub," Wolverine said, from where he stood behind Ballard. Some of the soldiers had put up more of a fight than others, but he had dealt with them quickly. He hung back for now knowing that this was something Adam had to do.
Ballard twisted to the side, shooting quickly at Wolverine before turning back to Methos. Methos didn't even blink at Wolverine's pained grunt. As long as the mutant was making noise he was alive, anything else his healing factor would take care of.
"Ain't normal bullets," Wolverine warned he applied pressure to the wound, even as his healing kicked in. The bullet had gone through, but it had nicked the bone. It wasn't often that something could impact his Adamantium skeleton, certainly not something like a bullet. Ballard looked almost smug.
"I did some experimenting of my own. They're made of Adamantium," he said. "A way to control you, or kill you, if things didn't work out."
"I thought it was all planned," Methos replied scathingly, even as he shifted to a back-handed grip.
"Never hurts to plan for any eventuality."
"For once I agree," Methos said, as he spun, ignoring the burning sensation left by a bullet tearing through the base of his neck, where it met his shoulder. He thrust the sword into Ballard's chest and twisted viciously before turning to watch as the man gasped desperately. Methos smirked as he watched Ballard's dawning realisation that all his planning had come to nothing.
"I really did wish that I would get to savour this moment," Methos murmured as he clamped a hand to his neck, "but knowing that you and everything you've worked for will be destroyed will have to be enough."
Raising his sword one-handed Methos put all his weight into the downward swing. He was already moving towards the computer when Ballard slumped to the ground, decapitated. He typed quickly, trying to ignore the decreasing, though much too slowly for his liking, flow of blood from the wound. Neck wounds always took the longest, and he wouldn't be surprised if it left a scar.
Methos quickly and efficiently set it up so that Ballard's computer, and the entire network it was connected to, would crash. He also grabbed MacLeod's sword, sitting in pride of place on Ballard's desk. He was waiting for the progress bar to reach 100 percent when Wolverine grabbed his arm and pulled him away.
"We have to leave now," Wolverine told him forcefully. Methos didn't turn his gaze from the computer.
"30 seconds more," he said, because he couldn't risk anything about what happened getting out.
"This place is going to blow sky high –" Wolverine began. He made an annoyed sound before heaving Methos bodily and throwing him out of the window, only to follow him seconds later.
Methos landed awkwardly and rolled, to reduce the impact. Then he was up and Wolverine grabbed his arm and they ran from the base as quickly as they could. Moments later, both were thrown off their feet by the force of the explosion. Flames and debris battered at them as they covered their heads.
Finally, it stopped and Wolverine pulled himself to his feet. He offered Methos a hand up but Methos simply glared at him disdainfully.
"We should catch up with the others," Wolverine said.
Methos stared at him impassively for a long moment before shaking his head decisively.
"No," he replied. "I have some things I need to do first."
Wolverine returned his stare with a lengthy evaluating look. Eventually, he shrugged.
"Alright then, Sparky, let's do it."
"That's it?" Methos asked, a little surprised, because he knew that Logan understood all the implications of what he was saying.
"If you wanted moral recriminations you picked the wrong X-man," was Wolverine's unconcerned reply. He then tapped his communication device. "Hey Cyke, you there?"
"Wolverine," Cyclops said, voice clearly coloured with relief. "I take it you and Adam made it out alright."
"We're just peachy," Wolverine replied, "but we're taking a bit of a detour."
"How long will you be?"
"Don't wait up," was all Wolverine said before he turned off the device and removed it. He turned back to Methos. "Think any of their vehicles survived the explosion?"