Poker—No Bluffs
By:
Vain (Vainglorious696)
_____________________________________________________________
Part Three
"You let
him go?!" Scott's body was
trembling with barely suppressed rage. "You just let him go?!"
"Calm,
down Scott."
"Calm
down? You let him literally get away
with murder, he has no regard for anyone's authority but his own, he's rash,
abrasive, and belligerent, and yet you can sit there and tell me to 'calm
down?'"
"That
isn't fair, Scott and you know it."
Cyclops
looked at the Professor bitterly through his visor. "You're right, Professor. It's not fair. It's not fair
that he get to break all the rules without ever dealing with the consequences
of his actions. It's not fair that he
is out at all hours of the night doing God know what and then doesn't even have
the courtesy to show up the next day for training. And what's even less fair is that you are either unwilling or
unable to stop him. Why is that
Professor? What's really going on
here?"
Wolverine's
voice was a growl. "That's enough,
Slim. I think that you had better take
a while to cool down before go pointing fingers."
"That's
alright, Logan; Scott asked a question." Xavier looked down at his students, the tension was unbearable. "I allowed Remy the same privilege that
I would allow any of you had one of your friends died. And, if it ever seems that I treat Remy
differently, then it's because I do. I
treat all of you differently, and my means of disciplining my students are my
own. Unless you believe that you can do
better, of course."
The challenge
hung heavily in the air for several seconds. No one responded.
"Good,
then. I believe that it is in
everyone's best interest if we rescheduled this session for another time. Until then the rest of the day is
yours."
The team
broken up reluctantly, and, as they left, Xavier could hear snatches of their
conversations.
"'Rembrandt?' And 'boss?' I told that he couldn't be trusted, Betsy. God, we even forgave him for the Morlock Massacre."
"You
okay, Ro?"
"I am
worried, Logan. I have never seen Remy
like that. Something is wrong with him,
I know it. But he continues to shut me
out. I am beginning to fear that we are
losing him, somehow."
"Don't
you worry your pretty little head about Rems, Bright One. He can take care of himself; he'll probably
be home in time for dinner…"
"Sir,
are you alright?" Jean paused in the doorway in and looked at her mentor
in concern.
The Professor
sighed and then summoned a smile, "I am fine Jean- just a bit worried
that's all."
"About
Remy?"
"Yes,
but other things as well."
Jean
responded with a sigh of her own and brushed back a stray strand of red
hair. "We're all worried too
professor. He's been through so much
recently, with Belladonna and the Guilds, and yet he still refuses to open up
to us…" she drifted off, shaking her head. "I just wish that he knew it would be easier for us to trust
him again if he would trust us."
Xavier looked
up at her oddly for a moment, considering. When he spoke again his voice was gentle and reflective, "Yes, but
when have we ever given him a reason to trust us?"
Jean opened
her mouth to reply, but no words came out. The silence between them suddenly seemed to have become a tangible
thing. The digital clocked made a quiet
clicking sound as the numbers changed. It was 12:37. The training
session would have been over by now anyway.
"I'll
talk to Scott if you'd like, sir. He's
just getting frustrated with this whole Gambit thing."
"Thank you,
Jean. Sometimes I don't know what I
would do without you."
The doors
slid shut as she left him alone with his thoughts. Scott was right. Too
right in some respects. Still, Remy had
stubbornly insisted upon some things, and his privacy was one of them. Something was going to have to be done about
Remy Lebeau, and soon. Before whatever
he was working so hard at protecting came tumbling down about his ears.
_________________________________________________
The old warehouse was an unimposing
place. Surrounded by identical
structures in a neighborhood of faceless buildings, it was completely
forgettable. Just as it was intended to
be.
Remy had owned the
building for over six years, a cheap but infinitely profitable slice of one of
the worse sides of New York. In that
time he had repeatedly rented it out to the New York Thieves Guild, the Mafia,
rival gangs, a few major corporations and even the mighty Kingpin had requested
it more than once. The only things that
Remy wasn't willing to store were drugs. Once, one of his acquaintances had slipped several shipments of heroine
in with a few rare animals he asked the thief to hold for him. Remy discovered the shipments, held the
animals, but had every single ounce of heroine removed to the docks and burned. That particular acquaintance rarely did
business with him anymore.
Presently the
warehouse was holding a shipment of rare ancient artifacts stolen from
Peru. The Guild had been thrilled that
their southern cousin was willing to come to their aid again. As always, Remy didn't mind. He liked having friends in high places; it
helped keep him both alive and out of the government's way.
Right now
however, Remy wasn't interested in the contents of the warehouse, he was
interested in what lay beneath it.
Several
guildsmen were working security around the perimeter and a few waved to him as
he pulled up his Harley. Remy waved
back but didn't stop; right now he had work to do, and no distraction, no
matter how pleasant, would be welcome.
"Master Lebeau!"
Remy tried to
ignore the voice as he slid his card through the lock and punched in his pin
number.
"Master
Lebeau!" The speaker's voice grew
louder as he came closer. He was
obviously running. Remy cursed the
security mechanism as he waited for the green light to allow him entry. Footsteps pounded closer.
"Master,
wait!"
Exasperated
and annoyed Remy turned to face the breathless young man who had worked so hard
to get his attention. He bit back a
sigh as he recognized the chatty third rank apprentice William Long gasping in
front of him. "Yes, Apprentice Long?"
The youth
bent over and put him hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. "My. . . Master . . . sent me . . . here . . . to . . . tell you that several of
those… "friends" of yours have gone down, but none of them have come up
again." He paused a moment. "The first group brought in a body bag."
He looked up
at the Master Thief anxiously, waiting. Remy sighed. "I know. Dat's what I'm here to see 'bout now. Go an' tell Thief Sanchez dat dere ain't
nuttin to worry 'bout."
The youth nodded and looked
relieved. "Thank you, Master," he said,
bowing low.
Remy returned his nod, but then
called the apprentice back, "Apprentice
Long!"
"Yes, sir?"
"Spread
de word: Neither me or muh Friends are
to be disturbed in any way, d'accord? De New York Guild are guests here, and my Friends always have free run
of de place, compris?"
Long nodded again, not understanding
the order, but not wanting to displease his Prince, either. If Remy noticed this, he didn't care and,
turning his back on the teenager, vanished within the shadows of warehouse
number seventeen.
* * * * *
Scalphunter and Claire stood in the
center of the ruined lab silently. Arclight shifted her weight and fidgeted as what was left of the other
Marauders entered. The echoes of their
footsteps bounced loudly off the smoke stained walls. Debris from destroyed machinery littered the floor and along the
walls the huge test tubes used for holding specimens lay mostly empty. The bodies of the experiments themselves
were scattered throughout the room like gory life-sized dolls. Blood had been splashed liberally across the
walls and rows of beakers and flasks were overturned. The computer that dominated the far side of the room had been
ripped apart. The stench of death and
fire permeated the air.
Scalphunter didn't turn to the
others as he spoke. "It's gone, isn't
it?"
"Yes." Vertigo's soft voice sounded lost in the vast silence of the lab.
Claire walked over to the ruined
remains of one of the specimens and knelt down to examine it. It appeared have once been a small
girl. The scent of gore, bile, and
burnt flesh was sickening. "And it did
this? You allowed it to do this?"
Vertigo answered again, "Yes, but it
was an accident-"
Claire twisted up and whirled to
face the other woman, brown eyes flashing. "There are no 'accidents' in our line of work! Now, because of your stupidity, one of the most dangerous
creatures Essex ever created has been loosed upon the world."
"Enough," Scalphunter's voice rang
out coldly. "Place blame later. We've got to fix this problem now, before it
gets even more out of hand. Do we know
where it's headed?"
Riptide stepped forward out of the
shadows. He was holding his right arm
awkwardly with his left, in obvious pain. "Yeah. The trackers got a good
lock on that scanner the boss implanted in it after this happened the first
time." He paused a moment to collect
himself and Claire arched an impatient eyebrow. He looked away from her eyes to the floor before he
continued.
"It's going to New York."
Claire looked sharply at
Scalphunter, "Isn't that where Remy is, Gray Crow?"
The big man closed his eyes and
sighed deeply. "Yes, but more than
that, it's where Xavier is."
"Xavier? As in Professor Charles Xavier?!"
Arclight nodded. "The one and only."
"Shit," she breathed.
"Pretty much," Riptide said
dryly. He grimaced in pain.
Claire turned back to the child's
body and frowned pensively. "It's probably
hunting Xavier, but if catches wind of Remy, or even the others, all hell is
going to break loose. Aren't there two
other psychics with the X-people?"
"Yep," Arclight chirped.
"Damnit!" Claire spun around to face them all once
more and looked directly at Scalphunter. "G.C. if we don't get to New York and warn Remy right now we're not
going to have a minor inconvenience on our hands, we're going to have
Armageddon."
A worried
frown crossed Vertigo's face. "What
about Mr. Sinister? What'll happen to
him? We can't just abandon him!"
Anger flared
in Claire's eyes. "And we certainly
can't help him if we're dead! He's just
going to have to sit tight. This is too
important to screw up."
"I guess
we're going to New York, then." Grey
Crow shook his head, "But I'm tellin' you right now that Gambit is not
going to like this."
"Oh, well."