Woot! huntermarra, Aleria14, Storm-Horse101, pandorad24, AmyQueen95, Locked in a Stony Tower, lillypad22, Alactricity, flYegurl, WinterSky101, BeTrueToThyself, soccerislife14 and penguincrazy all have my love. soccerislife14 has a review reply waiting at the end of the chapter. :)

The line-up for today: Stark POV, then Jeb and Fang, closing with Ari POV. I revised this chapter so many times, it's not even funny. In the slightest. And I got a really, really painful case of writer's block. I'm still not completely satisfied with this chapter, which isn't the wisest thing to say to a reader, I know, but I'm something of a perfectionist and if I didn't get this out now, this story would go nowhere. So. Just be on the lookout.

A lot of scheming/talking in this chapter, part of the reason I'm not so pleased with it, but that's most likely because something big and action-packed is coming up in the next chapter. Be patient with meh! D:

P.U.L.L. post 4/1/11.

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed in the past year/so. MR still isn't mine, believe it or not.

Enjoy? :)


Chapter Twenty-Eight: Abort Mission, Abandon Ship


"This is your fault."

Standing completely still, his hands folded neatly in front of him and his expression carefully unreadable, Nehemiah watched as the Director paced the length of her office like one of her caged mutants, throwing despicable glares his way every time she pivoted on her heel. He took her wordless accusations without blinking a single cold, ice-grey eye.

Calm. He was the calm in the eye of the storm. He would come out unscathed. Calm.

"I should give you over to Proctor or Vaughn, or Aldous—tell them to use you in their newest experiments. No consequences to worry about," the Director said vilely, coming to an abrupt stop. Her yellow hair lay in disarray across her heaving shoulders, framing a face that had gone bloodless in her panicked fury. When she spoke, the words came out as if she were biting each of them off the edge of her forked tongue. Nehemiah felt an icy pocket of contempt open up in his chest.

"If you had kept a closer eye on the mutants when I told you to, none of this would have happened," the Director snapped. "And now look! We're on the verge of being taken apart by the authorities! Not even our people inside the government can shut this up. The public knows." She raked a long-nailed hand through her tangled locks.

Nehemiah stirred for the first time since entering the woman's office. "Do the authorities know the locations of the other bases?"

The Director's face contorted in horror for a split second. "You had better hope not…"

Stupid, overemotional woman. Nehemiah stilled the urge to sigh. How could this be the head of the great Itex Corporation?

"Has the press released information that suggests they know where the other bases are?" he prompted tonelessly.

The Director narrowed her eyes. Her anger wavered in the thin air like a hesitating snake, reconsidering its initial urge to strike as the prey rose up and did something quite unexpected. "I'm…not aware that they know, no," she said slowly.

Nehemiah tapped his finger against his bicep impatiently. "Have the authorities taken immediate action against any of Itex's outlets?"

"…No."

Eyebrows raised meaningfully, the doctor spread his hands. "Then, pardon me, but I fail to see the crisis. We have people deep in the government who, despite your misgivings, can smother this if they are given enough time. We have means of defending ourselves when the mutants arrive. We can stall. There is absolutely nothing to panic about."

The Director snapped back into motion, circling Nehemiah's motionless figure with bony hands that twitched and curled, looking desperate for the chance to wrap themselves around his neck. "Nothing to panic about? Really, Doctor? Did you forget that the government has evidence against us, that they can incriminate us for—for genocide, practically! Don't try to weasel your way out of this, you—"

"We'll plead ignorant," Nehemiah interrupted, ignoring the woman's outraged stare. "It happens with companies every day. A branch goes rogue and oversteps its boundaries. People want to believe in the goodness of others, they want to believe that no one could do this on purpose—we can exploit this. It is simple."

The Director paused. Nehemiah stood as still as humanely possible, waiting. Finally, the woman met his gaze and said, with heavy resentment, "Someone has to accept blame, Doctor."

Nehemiah's lip curled at his superior's ill-veiled attempt at intimidation. "One of my managers, then," he replied evasively. "Someone loyal, someone who will not question my orders. But I was never associated with the Canadian School. I never committed any of those so-called 'crimes,' because I was here all along. Wouldn't you agree, Director?"

Tension crackled along the air like a thin wire of potent electricity. There was a moment when the Director and the doctor stared at each other and instantly knew what the other was thinking: that Nehemiah Stark, despite this singular, horrific failure, was one of Itex's best assets. They could not afford to do without him. And he knew it.

"Yes," the Director submitted, finally. Nehemiah smiled.

"Now," he said briskly, and moved past her to seat himself comfortably in the chair in front of her desk. Thanks to the enhancements in his DNA, his leg had healed quickly enough to no longer require the crutch, but standing for long periods of time was still slightly uncomfortable. "To the business of the 'mutant horde' approaching us from the west. They will come by air."

"When?" the Director asked in a clipped tone.

Nehemiah tapped his finger thoughtfully against the armrest of his chair. "Apologies, Director. The mutant didn't specify the date of its arrival. I would assume that it will be on its way as soon as possible. These animals lack the capacity to plan matters out, of course. I anticipate it will try for a full-force attack and rely solely on numbers."

The Director frowned. "I think you underestimate these mutants, Doctor Stark," she said acidly, obviously still upset over his brief moment of insubordination. "They are, after all, our most successful recombinants yet. They were designed to be intelligent."

Internally, Nehemiah waved the thought away without a second's hesitation. These mutants, intelligent? It was almost enough to make him smile in amusement. He was the School's only successful recombinant, though he would never tell anyone, and he had been born human. Pure. That was the only logical reason that his mental capacities were higher than any other recombinant's. These…these animals, these creatures, these non-humans had been altered in their test tubes. They'd been born with their abnormalities. His otherness was purely a result of choice.

To think that these abominations were capable of intelligent thought…it was laughable.

"In any case," the Director began, breaking Nehemiah free from his musings, "I'll have my best men get on the case. We'll catch them off guard before they land in Germany."

Nehemiah stirred. "With all due respect," he said carefully, "I would like to take part in the defense plans." Seeing her narrow her dark eyes in thought, he added, "I understand that your faith in me has been shaken by the mutants' escape from my School, but I assure you: I will not underestimate their treachery again."

The Director drummed her fingers against the polished wood of her desk, pursing her lips as she looked him over, considering. "Fine," she assented. "But you report to me before you do anything drastic."

"Of course," Nehemiah purred. His pale lips fought back a smile.

"And the avian-mutants are to be delivered alive. I don't care about the rest. Batchelder is yours to deal with, as you wanted. But the avian-mutants, all of them—I want them alive and unharmed. Understand?"

"Yes, Director," Nehemiah said with a respectful dip of his head. It was better than he had hoped—he didn't have total control over the situation, but he'd been promised a major role. And Batchelder was his. He would get to test out that new poison, after all.

As for the avian-mutants, he didn't care if he never saw them again. Except, perhaps, for the blind one. He was sure the sightless mutant had something to do with Batchelder's desertion. If not for the blind freak, Batchelder never would have worked up the nerve to show his treachery for what it was. Nehemiah's falling-out with the Director was entirely the mutant's fault.

On his dearly departed father's grave, he swore he would tear the resistance out of the little demon if it killed him.

Accidents do, after all, happen…

"If there is nothing else you would like to ask," the Director said coolly, her eyes going frigid and distant, "I'd like to be left alone, Doctor."

"Of course." Nehemiah rose and inclined his head politely, handing his Director parting niceties that he neither fully heard nor meant. His mind was already moving on to other matters; primarily, the problem of ensuring that Batchelder and that mangy mutant were successful in making it across the ocean. They would be in need of funds and tickets for the quickest flights to Germany. And he would give it to them, just to see himself redeemed.

Anne was waiting patiently for him when he returned to his temporary office, her eyes bright and her back straight, like a dutiful child waiting for her father to come home. Nehemiah gave her an indulgent smile as sincere as a politician's and ordered, "Ms. Chen, please call my contacts in the American government and have them secure flights to the nearest city for Batchelder and Fang's respective groups."

A faint frown disturbed the woman's vapid expression. "Yes, sir. But…which ones should I—"

"Ballard and Crace. Neither Batchelder nor Marling know who they are, so they will be the safest agents to send. And they do have the sweetest faces." Nehemiah seated himself behind his desk and got to work while Anne hurried to make the calls. Finding that "mutant horde" would be no trouble at all for the average citizen, let alone a trained hunter like Crace. Ballard had contacted him earlier the previous day to report that her team of Erasers had discovered Batchelder's most recent safe house and set him running again. She was sure that she and what was left of her squad would overtake the fugitives soon. He would have to tell her to follow them from a distance instead and lend "help" when Batchelder reverted to instinct and made his way for the nearest airport.

In the background, Anne greeted Ballard cordially over the phone and gave her the assignment. Nehemiah barely paid attention to his subordinate's saccharine voice as he rose and stared out through the only window in his office. Even disgraced as he was, he was still a respectable force in Itex's ranks and had been stationed high above the massive, walled courtyard currently occupied by a vast portion of Headquarters' mutants.

Training, Nehemiah mused, watching with particular interest as a strangely human-looking mutant with brown hair flipped over an Eraser with apparent ease and kicked its legs out from under its bulky torso. Strangely enough, the mutant didn't stop to gloat as Nehemiah thought it would. It moved on without a second's hesitation and brought down another wolf-mutant with fluid, controlled movements.

Nehemiah would need to form a task force to apprehend Batchelder and his brood the instant they set foot in Germany. Mutants like this one would be suitable for the job. He knew its name: Omega. Supposedly, it was Itex's most successful recombinant to date.

We will see.

"Sir," Anne said quietly, "I've just gotten off the phone with Crace. Both he and Ballard have locked onto Batchelder's and Fang's locations and are poised to move when you're ready, sir."

Nehemiah afforded her only a short, expressionless nod before stalking wordlessly from his office. He had to find Omega's keepers and convince them to let him borrow the mutant for a little test run.

He was just the slightest bit curious to see how quickly Omega could snap a blind mutant's neck…


"Jeb? Jeb, are you all right?"

Prying his fingers away from where he was digging them into his burning eyes, Jeb lifted his head at Iggy's call and met the worried boy's gaze. Yes, he was tempted to answer, yes, I'm fine. Your brother is planning to attack Itex with a bunch of malnourished, half-insane mutants, I still haven't stopped Ari's expiration date, and I am doing great. Thank you for your concern.

But he was a grown man with responsibilities, not some half-mature child with an attitude problem, so he stowed the words back in his churning stomach from which they'd risen and simply shook his head. "This is…a problem," he said tiredly.

When he'd sent Iggy, Ari, Gazzy and Max to the convenience store to get food, he'd never thought that they might return with grim faces and even darker news: that their fourteen-year-old brother had somehow broken into the School, and was planning to do it again. Only, this time, he was heading right for the top. Itex Headquarters.

Then there was the lovely fact that if Jeb and the others didn't cut him off in time, he was going to launch his siege on Headquarters anyway, probably without a thought to back-up plans.

Currently, Jeb and his ragtag group of fugitives were hunkered down in a quiet park set apart from the rest of the hustle and bustle of the heavily-populated town. The strange looks sent their way by passerby normally would have set Jeb's instincts on edge, but he had more important matters to deal with than someone's opinion. Everything had fallen apart. Somehow, he and his wards had to secure means of transportation to Lendeheim, and they had to do it before Fang managed to get his makeshift army overseas. Jeb had no doubt that this would take time, but then again, Fang did have Angel. And having an adorable, telepathic six-year-old with a talent for mind control was definitely an advantage when it came to convincing someone to help you.

He could try to secure a plane ride to Germany. He had some money left, had remembered to grab his card just in case, just in case. Perhaps if he found a way to access his bank account…but no, he was sure Stark had shut it down. He must have; Stark never overlooked anything.

Jacob released a sudden, explosive sigh from where he had spread his coat on the grass and sat down. "Fang didn't say when he planned to ambush Itex, did he?" he asked.

Iggy, digging into the bag of chips he'd bought from the convenience store, shrugged and rolled his eyes in frustration. "No. Just that he was gonna take it down, and we could join in if we wanted to."

"I know I want to," Ari said darkly from his seated position on a bench. Even though he was disguised in human form, the hateful twist of his lips as he thought of the School made several civilians turn right around and hurry off in the opposition direction.

"For once, hairball, I agree with you," Max drawled. She leaned easily against the bench and furrowed her forehead. Without warning, something painful and loose moved in Jeb's chest; Maximum looked so much like her mother when she was deep in thought that sometimes he was tempted to tell her that she wasn't an orphan. She had a biological mother, a younger half-brother and a half-sister. And him. Her father.

No. Jeb turned away with a shudder and buried his hands deep into the pockets of his coat. Now was not the time. Later, maybe, he could dig his fingers into the tangled web he'd sewn together and try to find his way out of the cold-walled maze his mistakes had built around him. But not now.

Suddenly, the Gasman, who had until this point remained uncharacteristically quiet, leapt up from his spot on the grass and let out an angry shout. "That's it!" he yelled. "I'm so sick of this! Why did Fang have to leave? Why did any of this have to happen?"

"None of us like it either, Gaz," Max said tiredly. But Gazzy's eyes were already beginning to fill with tears, and Jeb knew his boy well enough to look for the reddening around his ears and cheeks.

"I hate them," he sniffed, and kicked forlornly at one of the bench's legs.

Quietly, Jeb rose to his feet and stepped carefully toward Gazzy. When the small boy only stared up at him with brimming eyes, the ex-whitecoat took the boy into his arms and stroked his flyaway hair gently, as he had when Gazzy had been a tiny six-year-old. Gazzy turned his face into Jeb's shirt, scowling with embarrassment.

"Do you remember what I used to tell you," Jeb said, his voice rasping—this caring tone had been long out of practice—as he patted down the boy's hair, "when you were little and you'd get upset?"

"It'll work out," came the muffled answer.

"Yes." Jeb lifted his gaze and looked at each fugitive in turn, letting them know that he was speaking to them, too. "It will work out. It always does. I promise you, I'll fix this."

Iggy set his jaw stubbornly and nodded. "I believe you, Jeb."

"So do I," Jacob added. Gazzy broke away and wiped his cheeks furiously.

"Me too!" he said.

Almost involuntarily, Jeb turned to Max and Ari. The muscles in Max's neck grew tense and taut, standing out beneath her skin as she met her father's gaze. Jeb could see a hundred different emotions and thoughts running beneath those dark eyes, eyes too much like her mother's, and for one uncertain moment he thought she would turn away.

Then she smirked and said, "Yeah, I guess so. You're probably one of the most stubborn, hard-to-kill people I know. If anyone's gonna fix this, it's gonna be you."

"Cute," came a deep growl from Ari's direction, "but there's a group of government officials coming in at three o'clock, so I say we get ready to run."

It was as if a bomb went off not two feet away from them. In an instant, the six fugitives went from relaxed civilians lounging at the park to a group of hunted people on the run, their nerves taut as they followed Ari's pointing finger to the black vehicles pulling into the street nearest them.

"Gaz, Ig, in the sky, now," Max ordered, snapping back into her role as leader almost instinctively. The two boys spread their wings without question and shouldered their backpacks, their eyes sharp. Jeb watched the three cars come to a screeching stop. His stomach shuddered; they'd spent too much time in one place when they knew full well that the Erasers from the safe house were still trailing them. He and the others had no choice. They would have to run for it and take someone's car again, because there was no way they were going to lose their enemies on foot.

"Split up," Jeb ordered. He had just turned away when one of the car's doors flew open and spat into the busy street a tall brown-haired woman in a black pencil skirt and heels.

"Wait!" she called, holding her hands up as if someone was pointing a gun at her. Cars honked and ground to a halt to avoid hitting her. When one man made to get out, the woman glared and pulled out a gleaming badge.

At Jeb's side, Jacob made as if to run. "Jeb? Do we go?"

Jeb hesitated. The woman crossed into the park and stopped on the grass, huffing, a hand over her heart. She was a willowy, fragile-looking thing, all pinkish, gesturing hands and a wide-eyed, honest face. Her lips curved to give Jeb a sheepish smile.

"Please, don't run," she gasped. "My name is Linda Ballard. I'm with the government."

"Like that's a relief," Iggy muttered.

Ballard didn't hear his comment. She turned and waved to the government vehicles, telling them to pull in by the sidewalk and stop blocking traffic. "Sometimes they need a little guiding," she said with an indulgent smile. Her cheerfulness dimmed somewhat when no one returned the sentiment, but she maintained her pleasant demeanor with the steadfast air of someone used to dealing with uncooperative people. "Are you Jebidiah Batchelder?" she asked, turning toward Jeb.

"I am," he answered slowly. Years of instinctively mistrusting people kicked up in his chest like a rusty old motor, scattering its dust everywhere. He had to remember not to assume that everyone in a black suit and car worked for Itex.

Ballard held out her hand and waited for him to take it, her expression remaining agreeable even when it took him a moment to reciprocate. "I hope we didn't startle you too badly. My superiors just sent us word that we were to find you before it was too late."

Max stepped forward and took a firm stance beside Jeb. She frowned and lifted her chin pugnaciously when Ballard looked surprised. "Too late for what?" the winged girl asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Uh…" Ballard made an obvious effort to avoid staring at Max's wings, stretched wide and far. "I mean…you and your group were very hard to find. We had to follow the testimonies of people who thought they'd seen you. You see, I work for a branch of the government that specializes in communications, and we recently got word of what they call the 'mutant horde' crossing Canada."

The woman smiled and shook her head, as if ridiculing the government's penchant for embellishing everything it laid its hands on. "I've actually been asked to secure flights for you to Lendeheim, Germany. Apparently, the leader of the 'mutant horde' let slip to someone that he was planning to move there, and since he sent out a message to you, we thought you had best be there when he arrives."

Jeb gave Ballard a meaningful look. "And the government is endorsing this move? Without questioning why a fourteen-year-old boy would want to move an entire army of mutants halfway across the world?"

Ballard shrugged her shoulders reticently. "In all honesty, sir, the boy's been so stingy with information that I think the government's just trying to go along with whatever he says because they think he'll cooperate if they do. They're desperate for information. You have to understand that this is a very big, very dangerous thing we're handling here."

"I do. More than anyone else," Jeb said stiffly. The words came out colder than he'd meant them to, and Ballard visibly recoiled from the icy expression he was sure had taken control of his facial features. For the second time that day, Jeb reminded himself that the woman hadn't done anything to warrant his hostility.

Yet.

"I see," Ballard said quietly. She straightened her gray jacket and continued, in a slightly more hesitant tone, "If it's all right with you, we could go somewhere a little less public to—"

Max interrupted, her tone crackling like hot coals underfoot, "We don't go anywhere with people we don't trust."

Ballard's half-hearted smile dropped off her face entirely. "Oh," she said in a small voice. "Okay. Just…here, then?"

Jeb smiled politely. It was the type of smile that offered little reassurance and even less warmth, letting the woman know just how wary and alert he was. "Here would be best."

Ballard nodded. "Just give me a second," she said, and trotted over to the three cars waiting in the street. As soon as the woman was out of earshot, Max spoke up.

"Jeb, we should run. Like, now would be good."

The ex-whitecoat shook his head and whispered back, "I know what you're thinking. But even if these people work for Itex, we have to take what they're offering."

Max stared at him in outright disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

"We have no other way to reach Lendeheim before Fang," Jeb replied, lowering his voice as Ballard glanced their way, then turned back to speak with someone in the first car. "It would be hard enough for you, Iggy and Gazzy to fly across the ocean. Bringing the rest of us along would be impossible without money for plane tickets, and we don't have that right now. We need what they are offering."

Ari asked nervously, "What if they're working for Itex?" His wide eyes zeroed in on Ballard's unthreatening figure as if she was about to transform into a monster from his nightmares. Jeb thinned his lips grimly.

"Then we'll just have to make sure we're ready for them when they do."

Around the circle of runaways, expressions hardened with steely determination. Ballard was faced with grim, untrusting looks when she returned, and the effect it had on her already-faltering confidence was apparent. She hesitated, almost taking a step back before she plucked up her courage and opened her mouth to make the offer once more. "About those plane tickets—"

Max immediately said, "We'll take them."

Ballard stopped and blinked, taken by surprise. "Oh. You will?"

"We will," Jeb confirmed with a nod of his head. "Provided we aren't surrounded by government officials wherever we turn, and you leave us to our own devices once we set down in Germany. We'd prefer not to be treated like criminals."

"I don't know if we can…" Ballard paused, catching sight of Max's closed-off expression, and shrugged her shoulders. "You know what? Sure. We'll figure something out."

"How soon can you get us to Lendeheim?" Jeb asked.

Ballard smiled pleasantly, and there, like a flicker of lightning in the far black of night, too quick and distant to fully grasp but still definitely there, Jeb saw something dark shift through her gaze. He grabbed hold of its image and branded it in his memory, a warning that he was putting Jacob and his children into terrible danger.

"We can get the flights for you now," Ballard said happily. "If you'd like, we can drive you to the nearest airport. I'm afraid it's quite a walk if you plan to take it by foot."

"We'd be grateful for your help, thank you," Jeb replied with a smile. Ballard nodded and directed the group into two different cars: Gazzy, Max and Jacob into one, and Iggy, Ari and Jeb into another. Jeb ignored the small part inside him that screamed this was a bad idea, a horrible mistake.

It had to be done. There was no other way.

That didn't stop the sinking feeling in his stomach as he lowered himself beside Iggy and Ari into the dark inside of the car, locked his own door, and watched in silence as the car pulled away from the curb and melted into the endless rows of vehicles rolling down the road.


The air inside the hospital was rank with the acrid stench of disinfectant and illness. After the whole disaster of being shot and then promptly kidnapped, Fang had sworn that he would never set foot inside such an establishment again if it killed him. He would rather bleed out on the sidewalk than breathe in this noxious air.

Yet here he was, sitting in a hospital's waiting room surrounded by dozens of starving mutants, staying right where he was because the kids needed a leader, and if he didn't go in, neither would they. Even when he did step through the hospital doors, it had been difficult for some of the more frightened mutants to come inside. They'd just been liberated from the School. For them to immediately go from Stark's house of horrors to a place that looked exactly like it was almost too much for them to handle.

It was almost too much for Fang to handle, though he never let on.

But the kids needed medical attention. Badly. Fang had seen a couple mutants already unconscious, whisked off to the emergency rooms to be stabilized—Livy had been one of them.

Until they were deemed stable, and until these starving kids were full of hospital food, he wasn't going anywhere. He was the leader here. The mutants' only source of hope. They looked up to him to lead them on their way.

He made a mental note to congratulate Max on handling the stress of it next time he saw her.

A small group of policemen stalked from the back rooms into the midst of the runaway mutants. Fang, sitting in a corner with Angel and Nudge, pointedly ignored the men and focused on clearing the plate of packaged food in front of him. The confusion on the policemen's faces was clear; he could practically hear their thoughts stampeding through their heads like a horde of elephants, chaotic and confused, heading everywhere and nowhere at once.

He didn't blame them. It wasn't every day you were mind-manipulated by a six-year-old girl into feeding a hundred starving mutants.

A burst of motion toward the other side of the waiting room caught Fang's attention. Dom, Spider and Greta had risen to their feet and were picking their way through the mutants sitting around them. Knowing that they would want to talk, Fang scooped up a last spoonful of powdered eggs and set his food aside.

"Hey, Fang," Spider called. He spotted Fang's expression and asked, squinting all four of his eyes, "What's got you in a knot?"

Angel and Nudge looked over with worried countenances. Fang shrugged and said, "Nothing. It's been a long day."

Dom snorted and sat down heavily next to the dark-winged boy. "You're telling us. Are you gonna finish your eggs?"

Fang handed the food over with another shrug. At his side, Angel gnawed thoughtfully on the edge of her fork and asked Greta, "Where's Remy?"

The soft-spoken girl winced and ducked her head, nearly taking one of Spider's numerous eyes out with her antlers. "They had to take him back with Livy," she whispered. "He wasn't…doing so good."

"Oh," Nudge murmured quietly. She blinked and looked down, then patted Greta's pale hand sympathetically. "We're sorry."

"He'll be fine," Dom said in a hard tone. Fang looked up to see the older boy staring hard at the air, focusing on something that wasn't there. He knew that look; it belonged on the face of someone who stubbornly insisted on assuming the best because he couldn't afford to do otherwise.

Spider seemed to have picked up the same notion. "They'll both be fine," he said with a confident nod.

A solemn silence entered the group like an unwelcome guest while as everyone tucked back into their food and tried not to think about what was happening to their littlest members behind the hospital's closed doors. Then Dom, whom Fang was beginning to think was just an ornery male version of Max, got straight to his point.

"We heard your broadcast earlier," he said. His dark eyes met Fang's unflinchingly. Something went stiff in the cast of his serious mouth.

Fang didn't say anything. Dom shifted and continued, "Man, we respect you and all, but it's kind of obvious you're in on something. And we want to know what it is."

Keeping his silence, Fang let the other boy stew for a moment before he answered in his usual unflappable tone. "You didn't have to come ask. I was going to let you in on it anyway."

Dom frowned. "Well, what is it?"

Fang leaned back against the wall and swept his gaze over the gathered mutants. Out of the two hundred and seventeen that had come through, only about fifty or so, including the Erasers, looked fit enough for his planned assault on Itex. The others had either been rushed to the overflowing emergency rooms, or were too weak or starved to do anything but lie in bed and wheeze.

But the others…

Sending a quick glance around the room for Erasers and finding none, Fang finally answered Dom's question. "Itex Headquarters has to go down."

Immediately, Dom, Spider and Greta became very interested. They leaned forward, their faces gleaming with color and their eyes bright as the gleam of snow against the windowpanes.

"I'm listening," Dom said eagerly. Spider's smile turned savage, and even sweet-faced Greta trembled with the need to fight.

"I'm going to ask the Erasers to help us," Fang continued. "Dag worked for Headquarters before he was moved to Stark's School. He knows all about its defenses and inner workings. It shouldn't be hard to convince him; we have the antidote to the Erasers' expiration date. And he's gotten rumors that Itex was planning to shut down all of the Erasers anyway."

Spider whistled lowly. "Now that's the first good thing to come out of the School."

"Not if we want the Erasers on our side. Temporarily," Fang added when Dom made a face, as if he'd just discovered that the pudding he'd been served was made of chicken fat. "Just as long as we have to, and then we go our separate ways."

"You want to infiltrate Itex and take it down from the inside," Spider said incredulously. "With what army? These kids? You'll never make it past the front door."

"All we need is a good, small force," Fang replied firmly. "Think about it. There must be hundreds more mutants at Headquarters."

Nudge brightened considerably and grinned fiercely for the first time since they'd emerged from Stark's School. "And if we can turn them against the whitecoats, we'll have even more people! It shouldn't be hard. If they're just as angry at the School as you are, all they'll need to see is that we can resist. We can fight back!"

"Right." Fang gave Nudge a rare smile.

Dom, Spider and Greta exchanged glances. "Alright," Dom said finally. Something flickered in his gaze like a live flame, strengthening his resolve and drive. "Yeah," he said again. He leaned forward with a wide grin. "We're in. As long as you can convince the Erasers to get us past Headquarters' doors…I'm in."

"Me too," Spider put in. Greta nodded.

"Then I'll need your help," Fang stated. "I can't convince everyone on my own. We'll let everyone get a good night's sleep tonight and break it to them in the morning."

"Where are you going?" Nudge asked, seeing him get to his feet.

Fang clenched his hands into fists and turned his head away from the policemen when they gave him sidelong looks. "To find the Erasers."

Angel and Nudge rose from their spots and followed him from the waiting room into the crowded hallway. He didn't question their presence; he needed all the support he could use at the moment.

"I'll help 'convince' them if you need me to," Angel offered sweetly.

"Thanks, Ange," Fang said, already picking out a couple Erasers from amongst the scores of mutants huddled on the floor. "But let's just use that as a last resort, alright?"

"Hey squeaker," Dag called when their trio finally pinpointed him. He was lounging down on the hospital's main floor, entertaining himself with sending threatening glares to the gathered policemen every now and then to see if he could intimidate them. "What're you up to? Where's my expiration cure?"

"You'll get that later," Fang said curtly. Dag growled low in his throat. The Erasers at his sides bristled and twitched their hands towards their guns, which Fang was only partially surprised hadn't been taken away from them; he wouldn't have tried to separate a wolf-mutant from its weapon either, even if he was a policemen with his buddies to back him up.

"Look, there's one more thing we need you to do. You said that the whitecoats were planning to shut you down, all of you, sometime soon."

"Yeah," Dag said. "Which is why we need the expiration cure, so if you're smart, you'll give it to us before we decide you're getting on our nerves."

"But it only works for one person at a time," Nudge interjected. "If you try and use it for all of you, some of you will already have died and it'll be too late."

The wolf-mutants looked at one another tensely. Seeing an opportunity, Fang stepped closer and said, "Dag, you know Headquarters' layout, right? I'm planning a break-in."

Dag laughed harshly. The sound was like a saw grating on steel. "You're crazy, squeaker."

"I'm serious." Fang matched the Eraser's gaze and held it as the smirk dropped off Dag's face. "We want to get inside. We're missing an important part of the expiration date's cure and we think it might be inside Headquarters."

A roaring growl rippled through the band of Erasers. Throughout the room, the policemen gripped their batons nervously and stood taut and tense as metal poles.

"You little lying sneak!" Dag thundered. "You said you had the cure—"

"I didn't lie," Fang cut him off. "I said we were working on the cure. I just didn't say it was finished."

"The part we're missing is in Headquarters, with Stark," Angel broke in. She stared the Erasers down with her eerie blue eyes and shrugged, "So we're gonna break in, get it, and beat up a couple whitecoats on the way. Don't you want revenge for everything they've put you through?"

Dag narrowed his beady eyes into a glare and jabbed Fang in the chest with a long finger. "If you're lying, squeaker," he said, voice low and threatening, "I swear, I'll tear you apart. Cure or no cure. Got it?"

Fang didn't break eye contact. "That depends. Are you in?"

Dag cast a searching look over his team of Erasers. "We'll talk it over," he said reluctantly. "We'll let you know in the morning."

Fang hadn't realized he'd been clenching his hands into fists until he released them. A few of his knuckles cracked with the release of the strain.

One of the Erasers behind Dag, a tall, bulky mutant with muscles the size of durians, stirred and asked, "How are you gonna get all of us to Germany, squeaker?"

For once, Fang was stumped. He'd known he would run into this problem eventually and had come up with a solution, but he wasn't sure if Angel was up to the job of mind-controlling an entire airplane crew into letting fifty mutants onto the fastest plane they had.

"Actually," said a jovial voice behind them, "I think I might be able to help you there."


Ari gripped the armrests of his seat tightly and tried not to think about what would happen if the flying hunk of metal he was trapped in suddenly decided to act like a hunk of metal and plummet right into the ocean. It was bad enough that he was already aching with the effort of staying in his stupid, skinny human form. Now he was practically twitching with worry, too, like some spastic kid with a nervous disorder.

Well, said a certain annoying, omnipresent Voice inside his head, at least you have the aisle seat.

It had a point there. If something went down, he was going to barrel his way through all the dinky little humans and be the first to the escape door…

"Hey." Even Iggy, sitting on Ari's left with his long legs bunched awkwardly behind the seat in front of him, looked more at rest than the young Eraser. Gazzy was a little pale, but he had the window seat and stared out into the clouds and deep blue every chance he got. Lucky squirt.

"Chill, man," Iggy said with a thin smile. "We're all feeling it. Besides, the pilot guy just said we'd be landing in a few. Didn't you hear him?"

Ari shook his head miserably. No, truth be told, he hadn't. He'd been a little too preoccupied with daydreaming about his watery demise the closer they came to Germany. It always seemed like, just when hope was closest, something came to snatch it away.

Twisting awkwardly in his seat, Ari turned to stare over his seat at Max, Jeb and Jacob, who were stationed behind him. Jacob was stirring in his aisle seat, obviously woken by the pilot's announcement. Max stared out the window at the night sky. She was so far off in the murk of her own thoughts that Ari doubted she noticed that the plane had already started to descend.

Jeb met Ari's gaze and offered him a humorless smile. His arms were folded tightly across his chest, his features rendered haggard and worn by the airplane's yellow interior light. Something was up.

"What's wrong?" Ari rumbled, without thinking. Jeb stiffened and cast a quick, fearful look at the people seated around them. Too late, Ari realized his mistake; but then again, he'd scanned the other passengers before they boarded, and none of them had looked like Erasers in disguise.

Man, he wished he had his gun. But that Ballard lady had taken it from him before they entered the airport, saying something about paranoia and jail time.

Jeb seemed to realize they weren't being monitored and shrugged away some of the tension in his shoulders. "Nothing," he said quietly. "Just…be ready. Once we're through customs, I want all of you to keep an eye out. I know Ballard said she'd have cars waiting to take us to Lendeheim, but stay clear of them at all costs. I don't trust her."

At that, Iggy and Gazzy swiveled under their seatbelts and joined Ari in sticking their heads over the seats. Quietly, Iggy hissed, "Do you want to carry the…the you-know-what?"

The trigger. There had been some trouble with getting that through the pre-flight scans, but Ballard had simply stepped up to security, flashed that badge of hers again and called someone before waving their group through without another hitch. Sometimes, Ari forgot just how powerful some people were. With that kind of influence, it was a wonder Ballard hadn't had a private plane waiting for them, instead of six seats in third class. Though…that would have been creepy, now that he thought about it. Almost as if she'd known they would come with her…

Jeb shook his graying head and replied, "Keep it. You seem to understand it even better than I do. If anything happens, I want you to have it on you."

A strange, shivery feeling rushed through Ari's human form, starting somewhere in his chest and traveling to the very tips of his feet. If even this stupid, dull human body was picking up uneasy sensations, then something was definitely wrong.

"Be careful," he burst out suddenly. Jeb stared at him in wide-eyed surprise, and Ari repeated, quietly this time, "Dad? Please be careful."

Jeb nodded solemnly. "Take care of yourself. All of you. If anything happens, anything at all, I want you to run. Don't look back. Don't get separated. Just run."

The flight attendant's voice rang through the cabin, startling all of them as it politely told them to remain seated and buckled in while the plane landed. Ari turned around and drove his fingers into his chair's armrests again. Metal creaked in a whining protest, but all he could hear was the roar of the plane's engine and the quick, staccato pulses of his own heartbeat.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he said aloud. No one answered.

As soon as the plane juddered to a halt, Ari's human body went into high alert. Everything was super-imposed with adrenaline, a blur of wide-eyed anticipation and shaking hands. Ballard greeted them as they left the plane and followed their footsteps like a starving shark, smiling pleasantly, her face no longer sweet and open but, in Ari's opinion, suddenly hungry and full of malevolence.

Vigilance, mumbled the Voice.

Their small group formed a tightly-knit bunch with Jeb and Max at the center. Ari stuck to Iggy's side like a burr from the landing space past customs. When they passed through the glass doors that led into the airport's main building, he finally started to relax. The street was there, a wide stretch of road clogged with other cars and people laden with luggage, but open space nonetheless. Ari breathed easier and let himself scan the buildings on the other side of the freeway, squinting against the gleaming city lights. He didn't notice the four big, black cars parked along the curb until Ballard pointed them out.

"Here we are," the woman said cheerily. Ari stopped in his tracks, his blood pulsing in his ears as Ballard waved them toward the vehicles. Vigilance, the Voice whispered again. Vigilance, Ari!

"Lendeheim's a couple miles from here," Ballard said, striding confidently toward one car and opening the passenger door of one. "It's a secluded area and usually not very easy for tourists to find. We'd be happy to drive you there."

No one moved. Then, Ari peered past Ballard into the interior of the car she made to board, and froze as he saw a familiar face. He had only seen the Eraser's human guise once or twice, but he would recognize that ugly sneer anywhere.

"Rawley!" he hissed. Rawley's mouth dropped open in surprise. Ballard's head whipped around almost frantically as she struggled to make the connection.

Iggy was faster. "That Eraser from Stark's School?" he asked, eyes widening. "He's here?"

Game's up, said the Voice.

"They're working for Stark!" Ari barked. "Get out of—"

The passenger door of another car clicked and swung open. There, dressed as usual in a white lab coat and a deadly expression that promised he wouldn't hesitate, was Stark. The gun in his bloodless hand was pointed straight at Ari's head.

Someone shouted, "Down!" but Ari was already flat on his stomach, shifting back into his half-Eraser, half-human form as the gunshot echoed somewhere above him. Screams erupted across the sidewalk. Airport security guards were yelling, racing toward the trouble, but Ari, Max and Iggy had already launched themselves into motion.

The three mutants sprang for Rawley's car and dispatched the Erasers inside with quick snaps of their fists. Ari got his hands on a wolf-mutant's pistol and pointed it threateningly at the Erasers attempting to get out of the other three cars. Jeb slipped past him, into the driver's seat.

"All of you, inside, now!" he ordered. Ari and the others threw themselves into the bulky car just as Jeb slammed the gas pedal to the floor. The car shot forward, careening its way past Stark and the other School's vehicles.

"Batchelder!" Stark's hoarse voice bellowed. "You idiots, cut them off! Don't let him get away!"

In the driver's seat, Jeb clenched his hands around the steering wheel and swerved around the cars that were too slow to get out of the way. Ari held on for dear life; he, Iggy, Max and Gazzy were squished in the back of the car. Jacob sat in the passenger seat and fumbled with his seatbelt.

"Where are we going?" Max asked tightly.

"We've got to lose them." Jeb drove onto the freeway and turned the stolen car toward the city that loomed on the other side. Ari chanced a quick look through the back window. Their pursuers were only a short distance behind them; one of them was so close, he could see Ballard firing orders to the Eraser driving the vehicle.

"We'll get into the city and lose them that way," Jeb continued. "The airport will have alerted the police by now. I'm sure Stark meant for this all to be a nice, quiet capture; he won't want to stick around when they show up."

"Yeah," said Max, scrambling for purchase when the car swerved wildly around a semi, "but neither do we."

Jacob was quick to point out that being arrested by the police was a far better option than being captured by Stark and the Erasers. Ari tightened his grip on the pistol when their car slowed to join the flow of traffic passing through the fringe of the city.

"They're right behind us," Max murmured, staring with wide eyes at the black cars behind them. "Jeb, they're right behind us!"

"Hold on!"

The car revved and put an extra burst of speed that carried them past an intersection just as the light turned red. Ari tensed; they were merging onto a long stretch of road less clogged than the one they'd just emerged from. The car accelerated to over forty miles per hour, skidding past the other cars making their way down the street. Anxiously, Ari turned halfway in his seat to check on their pursuers' progress, and stopped when he saw what was outside his own window.

Keeping pace with the speeding car as easily as if he was going for a stroll was a tall, brown-haired boy with strange silver eyes. The Voice immediately screeched out an enigmatic warning in Ari's head—Omega!

Then Ari saw the long knife in the boy's hand coming down, right for the car's back tire.

"Stop!" he shouted to Jeb, but it was already too late. He felt the impact as soon as the boy drove the knife into the tire. There was a horrendous noise caught somewhere between a pop, a hiss and a muffled boom, and the car slowed so suddenly that Ari was thrown into the seat before him.

Someone screamed—he was never sure afterward if it was him or someone else. The world was a frenzied jumble of spinning city lights and screeching tires, the gun was knocked from his grasping hands, and Ari thought for a split second that the car was going to turn over. Jeb finally managed to get it under control, and they came to a sudden stop. Ari had closed his eyes sometime during the chaos. He opened them when he heard the sound of breaking glass and felt cool air pulsing against his bruised face.

He wished he hadn't. Reaching for him through the shattered window without any regard to the way his arm was being shredded to pieces was the silver-eyed boy.

A furious roar ripped itself from Ari's gut. Jeb's shout of caution was a faded hum in the back of his mind as he tore his door open and threw himself at the boy named Omega.


A/N: End chapter twenty-eight. Whew! Review please! You're very lucky this chapter was so long, you know...otherwise, I would have had space to fit more in, and the cliffhanger would have been even worse than it already is. How is that possible, you ask? Oh...you'll see. :)

soccerislife14: ...8O I am dead. No, seriously. I have no idea what to say, except...thank you thank you thank you! When I first read your review I couldn't stop smiling, it was just the best praise I've ever gotten, and I am incredibly flattered. Especially since I'm working on my own novel at the moment, and your wonderful comments are great encouragement. All a writer really wants to receive in return for his/her hard efforts (aside from funds, but this is fanfic, this is just a hobby) is the acknowledgment that the writing is appreciated and enjoyed. So thank you so, so much for taking the time to put in that review. It's probably the best one I've ever gotten since joining fanfic. =) Hope you enjoy the rest of the story just as well!

-Kimsa