ELEVEN

Bobby grabbed Sam's wrists and pulled him close. "Look, calm down," He hissed, then cast a glance back at the younger students. "You're scaring the kids."

Sam just looked blankly, wide eyed, at Bobby. His face was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and his teeth were gnashing. "Ah--Ah have to get outta here, Bobby..."

Bobby's grip tightened. "We have to stay down here, Sam, you know that. Just breathe and everything will be all right."

Sam pulled free of Bobby's grasp and stepped back a few paces. "You don't get it, do you? We are never gonna get outta here!"

"Sam..." Bobby reached for his friend, but it was too late. The air around them ripped with the sound of Sam's power being unleashed, and in seconds the boy was airborne, and hurtling towards the ceiling at full force. Bobby ran the length of the danger room and called Sam's name again, but his voice was lost in the explosion that followed. Sam had connected with one of the large cylindrical water tanks. Kids screamed as Sam plummeted to the ground, forced back by a hard stream of water flowing from a large crack in the tank. Sam's body make a sickening sound when it connected with the ground.

Bobby knelt by Sam's side and felt for a pulse. He was alive, but unconscious. The kids milled about them, watching the steady, wide arc of water as it flowed from the crack in the water tank's skin. Bobby was already drenched and the water was puddling around them. He glanced up at the wide crack in the water tank, and then to the scared faces around him.

"We're OK," He said calmly, "Its only a little leak. We just have to sit tight and wait for them to come get us."

He walked over to the elevator doors and inspected them. There was no way they could get through without some serious firepower, or Wolverine's claws. And they were sealed shut, which meant, with the water tank broken, they were airtight as well. He did some quick calculations. The tank was leaking pretty rapidly, and it had a capacity of thousands of gallons of water. They were locked inside an enclosed space with no possible outlet for the water to escape.

"Get to the other end of the Danger room, away from the water!" He crossed back to them and began to pull Sam away from the water tank.

The sound of the water spewing forth was relentless and loud. It seemed as if the crack was widening as more water wanted to flow out. They didn't have much longer and the water would reach them, and then the water level would begin to rise.

He hoped to God that the X-men would reach them before they all drowned.

Morgan clicked on his cell phone and punched in a number furiously. A recorded voice informed him that his call could not be placed due to problems with the cellular network. He clenched his teeth and glanced at the display. No signal. He threw the phone onto the empty passenger seat and took hold of the steering wheel with both hands, pushing the car to it's limits. His mind raced to calculate how much time Creed would have had to get to the mansion from the Friends of Humanity HQ. He swore and beat his hand on the dashboard. They could all be dead right now.

Trees grew thinner along the wide, straight road and he could see the rooftop of Xavier's school for gifted youngsters. Smoke belched from the bell tower and from several places on the roof itself. He swore again and threw the car onto the other side of the road as he approached the ornate wrought iron gates.

Jean pulled herself up on her elbows, hair spilling down into her bleeding face. Glass cut into her forearms as she crawled forward. Creed was also injured and dazed from the assault. He groaned and rolled onto his back, his hand just inches away from Jean's ankle. Two commandos cocked their guns as she advanced, laser sights dancing on her forehead.

"Please..." She moaned. She spat blood on the ground and looked up through her veiled red hair. "Don't."

Creed was coming to. One of the Commados rushed to his side, pulling him up by the elbows. He staggered to his feet, and Jean did the same, her eyes never leaving him. Creed stood there swaying for a few seconds, his eyes fluttering and unfocused. He was frowning at her like a confused child.

"Kill them," He croaked. "Kill them all, and let her die last." He was standing on his own two feet. He shoved the commando away and walked over to Jean. His smiled nailed her to the spot. She took a shuddering breath as he reached a hand to her face and stroked her jaw. "It's true what they say about red heads being as fiery as your hair colour," He sneered. "You put up a ballsy performance in there. You actually believed for a second that you could hold off the inevitable with your little mind reading parlour trick."

Jean smacked his hand away and returned his glare.  Of course he was right. She couldn't hold off the inevitable. At least not alone.

"So, Ms Grey, where did you hide your little freaks? Our intelligence tells us that there are at least thirty mutant children on campus at any one time, yet when we arrive we only find you, the weather witch, your darling fiance and two young men."

"They are not on the grounds. You will not touch them."

Creed waved a finger at her, then pressed his finger to his pursed lips. "You didn't have enough time to get them off the grounds, that much is certain. You hid them somewhere inside the mansion."

Jean shook her head. "You will not touch them." Her voice was tempered steel. "They are safe."

He shrugged. "Not that it matters. The mansion will burn to the ground, and if you have hidden them in the lower levels as I suspect you have, All we need to do is clear away the debris and open it up like a giant can of soup. Keep your secrets, Dr. Grey. There is nothing left for you to hide."

"Charles. We're landing soon."

Xavier felt Hank's hand on his arm and opened his eyes. His vision still swam and he felt groggy. He blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Thankyou, Hank."

"How are you feeling now?"

Xavier sighed. "I have been better."

Hank frowned at him with concern. "Has this ever happened before? The blackouts?"

"Not to this extent. I feel momentarily drained after taking control of someone's mind. Sometimes this can last for a few hours, but because this man's will was so strong...It took a great deal of power to overcome. I have never encountered a human with such defenses."

"Could Creed have coached him?"

Another sigh. "It's entirely likely. And for whatever reason, my powers are not as they should be. I have been unable to contact Jean for hours. I think that level of psychic power severs any telepathic bonds..."

There was a brief silence filled by the humming of the BlackBird's engines. Hank cleared his throat. "I tried calling ahead to the mansion, and there was no reply. All the extensions are out of service according to the phone company."

Xavier sat up and frowned. "Did you try Jeans cell phone?"

Hank nodded. "Her voicemail each time. Do you think something could be wrong, Charles?"

Charles frowned. "I don't know. I can only guess, like you."

Hank nodded and stood. "Pilot?"

The pilot's voice crackled from a speaker above them "Dr. McCoy?"

"We need to change our course. Head for Westchester."

"But sir, I need to radio it in and get clearance..."

McCoy walked up to the cockpit and opened the door separating them. He pointed to the control panel. "Make it happen. Turn the Bird around."

"I'll have to call in an emergency landing, you understand...The fire brigade will be called..."

McCoy stopped to consider. "Do that."

The worried pilot did as he was told, and McCoy exited the cockpit. Xavier was staring out of his window as he approached. "I have spent the better part of a month fending off these legal challenges to my school, Hank," He said, quietly. McCoy could hardly hear him over the roar of the engines. Xavier looked up at him and there was real fear in his eyes. "And while I was there, I got lost in the process. I left the school to fight for it, not to let it be destroyed in my absence."

The danger room was now half full of water.

Bobby treaded water and clutched onto Sam's unconscious body. His arms ached and his legs screamed at him to just give up. He could hear rapid breathing all around him, coming from the frightened kids. He had tried flash freezing the water when it was at a more manageable level, but that was only a quick fix, because the water level continued rising, ever more rapidly, as the hole in the tank got bigger and bigger. It had occurred to him to try freezing the water tank completely, cocoon it in a shell of ice, or even freeze the water inside solid. The last option he considered potentially deadly, because the sheer weight of the block of ice would have crushed them all anyway. He looked up to the ceiling and tried to calculate the time it would take for them to reach it. Sam was like a dead weight in his arms and he wasn't sure if Sam was OK or not.

"If you get tired, go to the wall and grab hold of something," Bobby instructed the students. "Just keep breathing, everything will be fine." Of course, in his minds eye he was assembling the worst case scenario; they would all die floating face down in the Danger Room while the Mansion burned above. Something about this scenario struck him as funny. He let a smile flutter on his lips and knew finally, what the life of an X-man is like.

Blood ran down Jean Grey's temple and rolled off her chin as Creed wrenched a handful of her hair and pulled her off her feet. She clutched at his wrists, digging her nails into the tender flesh there, but his grip held firm. She was being dragged back into the mansion with him. Bits of debris bit under her skin as her lower body travelled over the glass. She realized that she had no hope of surviving if he got her back in there. Storm was still down for the count, she knew that much. The mansion was still burning. Scott and the others could have already been killed. Creed was so close to victory even she could smell it. Her eyes watered and her vision swam, and she realized that she was crying. The fight had gone out of her just like the big grand old house around them. It wouldn't take much time now. Creed Deposited her back into the comfortable leather chair behind Charles' desk. He unraveled his fingers from her hair, pulling a fistful of hair with it. She looked up and saw him take a gun from the man closest to him. He checked that it was loaded, even if it was not necessary to do so. He was just putting on a show now. He had all the time in the world.

Jean had been in similar situations before; close calls, near misses, finding herself on the brink of death. But through all of those times she had her powers to help her, to save her and guide her. Now all she had was a headache and the feeling in her gut that she was going to die.

The next moment seemed to stretch on forever. Creed pulled the trigger and Jean screamed burying her face in her hands But for some reason the bullet did not strike her. She felt a wave of heat at that moment, so close it felt like it was going to burn through her clothes. A familiar sound roared in her ears and then she heard shouting, and more gunfire. When she lifted her head, Creed was nowhere to be seen, and standing in the shattered doorway, his visor smoking from the devastating optic blast he had released, was Scott. The air quivered with energy in the aftermath of his attack on Creed.

"Jean!" The sound of Scott's relief was making his voice tremble. Not his usual authoritative boom. He was at her side in an instant. "Are you OK?"

She nodded as tears slid down her cheeks. Then her eyes widened. "Ororo! She was shot..."

Scott turned to follow Jean's gaze. He heard her gasp before he saw the pool of blood where Ororo's body had been laying. Chamber and Sebastien entered at that point, both red faced and sweaty. Sebastien pointed to the hallway. "The soldiers took her! We tried to follow them but the smoke was too thick."

Jean turned to Scott. Her face was ashen and streaked with blood, and her eyes blazed fury. "Scott, we have to find her."

He released his grip on Jean to stride over to Creed's unconscious body, which was propelled out of the gaping window from the force of Scott's attack. He peered into the darkness, the lawn now like a blanket of stars as the shards of glass caught the light from the fires. The sight would have been beautiful if it was any other time. He turned back and shook his head. "Creed's gone too. The soldiers must've picked him up. There's no way he could have walked away from that."

"No," Jean replied. "He could walk away from it if he really wanted to."