I'm so excited! I was typing this chapter so fast that - more than once - I forgot words that can be pretty important. Like 'the' and 'and' and 'is'. So if that's happened anywhere, I edited my best, but this chapter kept poking me, asking, "Can you post me yet? Can you post me yet?!"

I regret that I don't remember who's review gave me the idea for this, but I'm gonna comb through those reviews like a starving man looking for a crumb to find out who it was! If you know who you are, feel free to raise your hand!


Logan sat in his usual seat behind Ororo, silently brooding. Scott had decided to come along after all, and he was currently sitting in the co-pilot's seat, moving mechanically, as though out of habit. Because of how tense he was, no one dared to speak. Logan normally would've relished the silence, but silence meant time for thinking, and he already did way too much thinking since sleep wasn't an option for him.

He wanted to hear something other than steady breathing and pulses and the jet engines. He was desperate enough for noise that he was willing to endure one of Kurt's ridiculous stories about his time in the Munich circus! I guess John rubbed off on me a little…

Though he didn't want to think, he didn't want to be the one to break the silence either. So for the entire trip he didn't speak a word, thankful that, at least on the way back, it wouldn't be so tense in the jet. Xavier had arranged for an eighteen-wheeler to be waiting for them at the base when they got there. They'd put the heavy plates in the semi, and someone would drive the truck back to Westchester. Logan was willing to bet any amount of money that Scott would jump at the chance to do something helpful that didn't require being in close proximity with the others.

They landed after a two and a half hour flight, and Ororo set the jet down with more grace than Scott ever had. They were about a quarter of a mile from the beach, just in case something went wrong during Ororo's solo portion of the mission. In the briefing room, Ororo had stated that she had the ability to separate water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen via electrolysis. The whole explanation had been a bit too complicated for Logan to follow word for word, but the gist of what he understood was that she could breathe underwater. As most of the base was underwater, as far as they knew, she would go down and find a way inside the base, seal the hall that had Cerebro with a thick wall of ice by chilling the oxygen in the water, and heat the remaining water until it evaporated and left them a clear passage in and out with the supplies they were taking.

Logan had felt mildly concerned for her when he'd heard all of that, but as he watched her wade into the water and disappear without so much as a shiver, he decided that she would be perfectly fine with her task. But she reappeared, sopping wet, not five minutes later with a scowl.

"I couldn't find an entrance," she reported. "I felt along every single wall and felt for water pressure on the other side. A good portion of the base has already been drained."

Logan frowned, not liking the feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach upon hearing that. "Maybe Xavier forgot to mention that he'd had the base drained?" he tried

"Xavier isn't forgetful," Scott said dismissively. "He didn't tell us because he didn't do it."

"How large is a 'good portion'?" Logan asked. "It is a military base, after all…"

"Enough to suggest that the path to the Cerebro chamber is already free and clear."

"The spillway?"

"Don't know."

Logan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I have an idea," he began hesitantly, wondering how far he would get with his explanation before he was shot down. "The spillway doors are big enough to easily move the Cerebro plates through, and if I remember correctly, it's also the shortest route to the chamber. If the doors are sealed, Cyclops, you can use your laser eyes cut a small hole through the door. No water pushing the piece out means that the other side has been drained, and we won't drown if you cut a bigger hole for us to crawl through. Then we can try to find out what the hell is going on."

He glanced at Ororo and Scott, who were simply staring at him. "You thought through all of that in a few seconds?" she asked.

"My mind is always moving," he answered.

"Not a bad idea," Scott said. "We might need to move the jet if the spillway is pretty far from here."

"Let's find out if the spillway is clear first," Ororo suggested, rising into the air. She stopped at what Logan estimated to be twenty feet in the air (he shivered involuntarily) and looked around. She shot off in the direction of something that had caught her eye and was back in less than a minute.

"It's clear," she reported, hovering a foot above the ground as she floated in the direction of the jet. "I felt the pressure on the other side of the doors, too. No water. Someone drained it."

Everyone followed her back to the jet, and while they all looked at ease and really weren't paying much attention to Ororo's method of transportation, Logan couldn't help watching her like a hawk. He knew that she wasn't defenseless. He knew that a drop from only a foot in the air wouldn't damage her in the slightest.

Yet he still had to swallow the urge to snap at her to be careful when she ducked and dodged branches without looking. He knew he'd only sound like an irate mother, and he knew that she wouldn't appreciate her flying skills being questioned. Twice he opened his mouth, and twice he shut it before they finally reached the jet and she put both feet on solid ground, allowing Logan a private sigh of relief.

Flying the jet near the spillway entrance took five short minutes, and soon Cyclops was drilling a perfect circle into the metal doors. Logan was mildly impressed, but said nothing.

True to her word, built up water on the other side didn't move the metal cut out. Logan turned to the chrome scented Russian (how he was able to differentiate between the scents of different metals was beyond him) just as a smile broke out on the younger man's face. Before their eyes, his skin became coated with the organic steel that Logan had heard quite a lot about, but had never seen. The arms on his uniform had been taken off, and Logan could see that, for a boy of maybe twenty-one, he was a one man wrecking crew even when he wasn't coated in metal. After one rough shove the metal began to give way and fell on the other side of the opening with a loud thud. They had their doorway.

The loading bay was perfectly lit, prompting Logan to frown as he stepped inside. But all thoughts as to why it was lit died as his eyes rested on a robot that was easily ten feet tall. It stood perfectly still, as though on watch. Logan would've been inclined to think that it was a statue, but the quiet hum of machinery from within was unmistakable.

"I don't think it heard us," Kurt said after a long moment. "It hasn't moved an inch."

"It might programmed to detect movement within a certain perimeter," Scott suggested.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Peter asked, his steel muscles coiled and ready for anything.

"It means," Ororo said in a patient tone, "that if we step, say, within ten feet of it, it'll register that something is approaching it and act accordingly."

"And I'm willing to bet it won't just point to the door," Logan said, the gut feeling intensifying.

"One day, someone will finish what I've started, Wolverine! One day sooner than you think!"

It seemed that Stryker had backup plans in the event of his death. Either that or there were more people that had mutant genocide in mind than he'd thought. As Stryker had been one to avoid death at all costs, Logan was inclined to think that it was a bit of both.

"Let's see how close we can get," Kurt suggested. "Maybe we can go around it."

Logan eyed the robot or whatever the hell it was distastefully. Logan could take a few bullets, sure, but this thing looked like it was more likely to be armed with bazookas than bullets. Logan snorted. "After you."

Kurt grabbed Logan's wrist and, before he could snarl in protest, the strong scent of sulfur filled his nose and he was in the hall on the other side of the robot. It remained stationary and Kurt flashed Logan a grin before disappearing and repeating the process with the rest of the X-Men.

He was certainly relieved that they wouldn't have to face the thing, but it felt a little anti-climactic. He shook his head. Every mission didn't have to be a fight for survival. Perhaps he was just getting used to it, as almost every time he went on a mission they had to save the world. I should be glad that we avoided a fight, he told himself firmly. For all he knew, the robot was just a giant explosive.

Ororo lead the way down the halls, her hand gliding across the wall. Logan guessed that she was checking air pressure as best she could to make sure that nothing was going to take them by surprise. Logan sighed deeply, and a familiar scent hit his nose. He paused mid-step, trying his best to identify the smell and why it was familiar.

It didn't take long for an image to come to mind that made his adrenaline surge. Ororo was just about to turn the corner to the Cerebro entrance and Logan was at her back in half a second. He snaked his arm around her waist and crushed her against his chest, flattening his back against the wall. He had done it perhaps too roughly, because after a gasp of surprise, Ororo cried out indignantly. "Logan, what the fu – "

He covered her mouth just as the doors hissed loudly and opened. Chaos and mechanical movement reached their ears first, and there was no doubt in Logan's mind that he was here for the parts that they needed. Though why he would want them was a mystery.

Lazy footsteps coming in their direction could be heard next, followed by a grainy voice that was clearly on the other end of a walkie talkie. "They weren't designed to be workers. They were designed for combat."

"Yeah well, let's hope you're a better programmer than you are a scientist," another irate voice said, the source of the footsteps and the reason why Logan was clinging so tightly to Ororo. "How the hell did you get to be a scientist?! You can't mix chemicals for shit! You told me that disgusting concoction would boost my strength and speed. You forgot mention that I'd have the brain of a wet dog!"

He'd know that voice anywhere. It wasn't the voice of the man-beast that he'd fought on top of the Statue of Liberty. This was the voice that had been with him through the Civil War, through both World Wars, through Vietnam and Korea.

The name was seconds from escaping Logan's lips, but he had stopped talking and inhaled deeply. The hairs on the back of Logan's neck raised.

"Hiya, Jimmy," he said, a smile in his voice.

"Long time, no see," Logan responded coldly. "Victor."