August 17, 1992
The wreckage that had been fished from the river had yielded nothing. Scott hadn't been surprised. The only real clue that they'd been given from Warren's death had been transmitted to Ororo. He'd known that they would need to look elsewhere.
They had started with a few of Worthington Industries's holdings in the city. There were many of them, but only one of them was still in full production. The board was busy scrambling for a new CEO after Warren's sudden death, and all of the higher-level production had been temporarily halted.
Ororo, in addition to conducting the investigation, had to stave off a flurry of phone calls. Warren had, apparently, left most of his shares to her. The rest had been given to the Institute, perhaps to make sure that the school always had a way to make money.
Scott had never seen eye to eye with Warren. They were, in the end, too different to really be friends. However, he respected him, and he respected his choice of death. Scott would have liked to think, in his position, he'd have the nerves to send the plane plummeting into Boston Harbor rather than let his attackers win.
The factory at the edge of the city looked like it was in good repair and use, but as Scott lowered his binoculars he'd already found a list of things wrong with it.
"There aren't any cars there," he said.
Ororo shut her phone.
"None?" she asked, "At three on a weekday?"
"None," Scott said.
"And the factory's in full production," Jean said.
They exchanged a look.
"We go in cautiously," he said, "And if we see anything strange we can act, but only if we think that we can overpower them. At best we'll be able to find out information and then withdraw. If things go right we can leave, call for reinforcements, and go in later."
Ororo and Jean nodded. Scott made a motion with his hand and the three of them moved forwards. The gates were tightly locked, but Scott had a set of lock picks in his coat. He remembered the long afternoons when Alex had taught him how to pick just about any lock. Alex had some rudimentary knowledge, knowledge that was expanded by his time in the X-men and with Lorna.
He selected the appropriate picks and began to work on the lock. After a moment the gate swung open. They stepped inside and moved through the factory. It was empty, but he could still hear sounds of production.
Scott pressed himself against the wall. Ororo and Jean looked at him. He made a motion forwards and then put a finger to his lips. They didn't know how many people were around the corner. There were only three of them, and they would have to be cautious.
He was just about to move around the corner when a flurry of noise broke out. It sounded like a fight. Scott made a face and looked at Jean and Ororo. Both of them were confused. He turned back, ready to move once again, when the wall in front of him broke.
A red and black-clad figure went flying through, hitting the wall behind them. Scott stared as the man got up and drew a gun. Scott ducked, but the man fired into the hole in the wall. A flurry of footsteps accompanied the shots.
Sabretooth pushed himself through the hole in the wall, growling. Scott turned the dial on his goggles up and sent him flying. He looked back at the red and black-clad man, who narrowed his eyes.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked.
"I could ask the same thing," Scott said.
"I think questions can wait," Jean said.
She pointed. Several people were coming through the gap in the wall, led by a woman covered with fur. Her claws were out and she hissed at them. The men with guns began firing and Scott swore to himself. Their stealth attack was blown.
He made a motion, and the X-men fanned out. Two of the soldiers began firing at Ororo, but she dodged their bullets. Jean was weaving through a few soldiers, and Scott zeroed in on Sabretooth. Sabretooth growled at him, and Scott turned his dial up to full strength. Even as his blast hit Sabretooth and his flesh burned away, Scott wasn't concerned. He would heal.
Behind him the red and black-clad man was fighting the furred woman. She was laughing as she dodged his swords.
"You look familiar," she said, "Oh, wait, you were at the prison, weren't you?"
Scott sent a few more blasts at some of the soldiers. He began moving towards the fighting pair, wondering what this was about.
"How's your little red-head friend?" the woman laughed.
The red and black-clad man's eyes narrowed and lashed out at her with his sword. Scott paused. He opened his mouth, everything clicking into place. The man was Deadpool, the man that had left, the man that his brother had sworn at over the phone. This woman was the one who had broken Sinister out of prison with Sabretooth.
From behind him he heard a growl. Scott turned around and managed to dodge Sabretooth's next attack. He stepped around him and sent another blast at him. This time Sabretooth dodged it and kept coming.
Scott moved. He felt Sabretooth's claws swipe the air where he'd been standing only seconds before. He lashed out with his foot and managed to catch Sabretooth in the stomach. Scott saw Ororo pause what she was doing and look over at him. He made a small motion with his hand and Ororo moved forward. Fighting someone like Sabretooth alone was never a good idea.
Sabretooth swiped at him again. Scott ducked under his arm and sent a full optic blast into his chest. Sabretooth was forced backwards and Ororo raised her hand. A bolt of thunder struck Sabretooth, leaving him sizzling on the ground. It would hold him for a while.
Next to him Jean was finishing up with two of the soldiers. Scott sent a blast at one of them, and she forced another one into a wall. He jerked his head over to where Deadpool was fighting the furred woman. The woman laughed.
"Was she yours?" the woman asked.
Deadpool lashed out with one of his swords while dropping the other. A second later he pulled a gun from his holster with his free hand. Scott had a split second to register the movement before the bullet ripped into the woman's shoulder. If she hadn't moved it would've hit her heart.
The woman howled and there was the sound of running feet. Scott heaved a heavy sigh and motioned at Ororo and Jean. They were outnumbered: they'd have to get out of the area before things got any worse.
"Deadpool!" Scott yelled.
The man turned, one of his eyes quirked.
"I don't know you. I woulda remembered someone with lava eyes," Deadpool said.
"If you want to help Terry then you'll leave right now!" Scott yelled, "You won't be doing anything productive here!"
Deadpool tensed. For a moment Scott wondered if Deadpool was going to shoot him. He certainly looked like he was considering it. Instead he holstered his gun. When they began running out of the factory, he followed them.
There were more soldiers guarding the entryway and the exits. The place was teeming with them. Scott sent out a few optic blasts. He could only surmise that they had set up a base of operations there, although he had no idea what they were making.
Warren had said that he had destroyed all of the files on Trask's computer. If he'd had any stored away though, they could all be in big trouble. He heard gunshots behind him and saw that Deadpool was firing at them. Jean was using her telekinesis to clear a path, and Ororo was trying to control the winds to help her.
They burst out into the sunlight. They still had some running to do, but they were almost in the clear.
"Hey, lava face!"
Scott turned his head. Deadpool was still looking at him curiously, his eyes quirked.
"How the hell do ya know who I am?" he asked.
"Terry was one of my best students," Scott said.
His voice came out sharp. He couldn't help it, just like he couldn't help adding his next few words.
"And when we have a moment or two of peace I'm going to punch you in the face," Scott said.
Deadpool's eyebrows raised, but he just shrugged.
"You can certainly try," he said.
"Do you have any idea what that was back there?" Scott asked.
"Not really," Deadpool said, "Just followed those assholes there. Woulda liked to kill em, but they don't go down easy."
He fished something out of his belt. They moved across the street and into the woods. They would reach the Blackbird soon. Deadpool waved a floppy disc at them.
"Stole this from one of their computers," he said, "Thinkin it's encrypted, but I'm thinkin it might help."
"You may be right," Scott said.
"So what do we do?"
Erik pulled the binoculars away from his face. Emma stood next to him, her arms crossed. The rest of the Brotherhood stood further back.
"Because if we're attacking," Lance said, "Then I suggest we do it before they get to the Blackbird."
"We're not attacking," Erik said.
"Why not?" Lance asked.
Erik looked at him, his eyes cold. Lance shuffled his feet and fell silent. While he had been gone it appeared that Lance had grown bold. No more.
"Because there's a more interesting target," Erik said.
He passed his binoculars to Emma. He saw her look over at the factory, her face thoughtful.
"Sabretooth was our contact for that machine," she said, "It seems very strange that he'd cut and run. I thought that someone might have taken him into custody, perhaps those strange people that the Cassidys work for."
She tossed her binoculars over her shoulder. Boom-Boom caught them, looking nervous.
"So what's he doing in there?" Emma asked.
"With any luck, Mystique will find out momentarily," Erik said.
"She's in there?" Boom-Boom asked.
"She's the best suited to this sort of work," Erik said.
He turned away from the scene.
"Let the X-men conclude their investigation. I don't think that it will concern us," he said, "But when Mystique comes back here, then we have a very simple, clear path ahead of us."
"Which is?" Lance asked.
His voice was arrogant. Erik gave him a thin smile.
"It's simple," he said, "We have a little talk with our erstwhile friend. I think that Sabretooth may have a few things that he wishes to discuss with us."
David got into the car. He looked over at Sharon, who was seated on the passenger's side.
"So your parents think that Kurt's with us?" she asked.
"Yep," he said, "And as far as they know, we're not going anywhere near Boston. Just down to D.C. and then straight back up."
He put his keys in the ignition and started up the car.
"How fast do you think we'll be able to get down there?" she asked.
"Pretty fast," David said.
He pulled the car out of the driveway. Sharon reached over and touched his spare hand. He fought the urge to take his hand off the steering wheel and kiss her again. He still had a hard time believing that that afternoon had happened at all. Such casual contact between the two of them seemed so strange.
"You're being a good brother right now," Sharon said.
"It's the first time he's needed me like this," David said, "I can't help wanting to help him."
"Finally," Sharon said, "you're giving yourself some credit."
David laughed and pulled out of the driveway.