Disclaimer:  Don't own these characters.  Nope!

A/N:  Welcome to chapter 5 of Mutant Dawn.  Evilness abounds in this chapter, as kidnapping plots are organized.  Thanks much to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and for your pairing suggestions.  And now, on with the show.  Enjoy!

"Now this…this is the life!"  Calvin Rankin leaned back in the cushy La-Z-Boy armchair, kicking his feet up on the ottoman, hands folded behind his head.  "Why couldn't we have come here first, instead of lurking around that dusty old bunker for weeks on end?"

          "Because, you oaf, we didn't want to risk drawing attention to ourselves until after we had proven our superiority over the city's self-appointed defenders."  Elizabeth Braddock replied as she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.  Her long, purple hair lay in wet strands across one shoulder.

          Calvin, alias Mimic, made no effort to hide the lecherous look he was giving the scantily-clad Psylocke.  "Well, now we can draw all the attention we want.  That's a good look for you by the way."

          Elizabeth sneered at him.  "You do realize how very tempted I am to fry every synapse in your brain, my dear Calvin?"

          "You'd certainly be doing us all a favor."  The green haired Lorna Dane said, looking up from her book.  "I swear Mimic, if I ever catch you peeping on me again, I'll shove a rusty metal pipe so far up your ass…"

          "I'd rather you not finish that sentence, Lorna."  Rictor said as he entered the living room with a newspaper rolled under one arm.  "That's not a mental image I need right now."

          The Marauders were currently occupying a very plush mansion, located on the so-called "big side of town."  The previous owner had chosen a location far removed from the rest of Bayville, which hadn't suited him very well when the Marauders came to call.  His body was currently cooling off somewhere in the woods.

          "Begorah, you all be acting like wee children, bickerin' away all the day like that."  Sean Cassidy said as he strolled down the stairs into the living room, brushing back a lock of his bright red hair.

          "Only in comparison to you, old man."  Calvin smirked.  Banshee was clearly the oldest of the Marauders, with the possible exception of their employer.  No one knew how old he was.

          "How's Lykos?"  Rictor asked Sean.

          "I'm just fine, thank you."  Answered a timid voice from behind Cassidy.

          Karl Lykos was a frail man.  He barely stood five foot nine, and couldn't have weighed more than 115 lbs.  His blond hair was thinning and fell in wisps over his eyes.  He seemed to have a permanent nervous tick, and his pale eyes were constantly darting around, as if looking for trouble.  All in all, he was the polar opposite of his monstrous alter ego, the malevolent Sauron.

          "I see."  Julio said, smiling.  "And your better half?"

          Lykos swallowed hard, evidently, he didn't like thinking about his "better half."

          "He's…he's restless.  He's clamoring for release, wants me to feed…"

          "I'm quite sure he will have plenty of opportunity to feed shortly.  But come, aren't we missing two of our number?  Where are Bishop and Sarah?"

          "Oh, you know how they are."  Calvin said with a dismissive wave of his hand.  Probably off sulking in their rooms, being all mopey."      

          "Is that even a word?"  Psylocke asked as she reentered the room, dressed in a far more modest pair of sweatpants and hooded sweatshirt."

          "It is 'cause I say so."  Mimic replied with his infuriatingly smug grin.

          "So, what exactly are we t'be doin' here, then?"  Banshee asked as he took a seat, grabbing the newspaper away from Rictor.  "It's all well an' good we've got ourselves a right comfy little bungalow, but certainly real estate is not our new aim."

          "Whatever our next move will be is up to the boss and the boss alone.  Whenever he decides to show himself again."  Rictor replied, snatching his paper back.

          Xavier wheeled into the infirmary.  In the intervening days, it had been cleared off all its residents, save for Nightcrawler, Pyro, Blob, and Magneto, whom had yet to regain consciousness after being drained by Sauron.  And Jean, who likewise remained indisposed after her loss to Psylocke on the astral plane.

          Just as he expected, Xavier found Scott sitting by Jean's bedside, clutching her hand, and staring at her closed eyes, as though willing her to wake up.  "Scott?"

          Scott evidently did not hear him enter the room, absorbed as he was in Jean's unconscious form, because he gave a great start and looked around guiltily, as if he had just been caught at something he was forbidden to do.

          "Professor, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

          "I figured as much."  Xavier gave his first student a warm smile as he rolled his chair over to join him.

          "Charles, level with me."  Scott said, in a moment of familiarity he would never use in front of the other students.  "Will she be OK?"

          Xavier considered his words carefully for a few moments.  "Her mind is in turmoil.  She was soundly thrashed in psychic combat by another powerful telepath.  That can be extremely damaging to one's psyche.  But I know our Jean, and she won't give up without a fight."

          "Can you help her?"  Scott asked, a note of hopefulness rising in his voice.

          Xavier sighed.  "I am afraid she is a prisoner of her own mental barriers.  She is beyond even my help.  She must help herself."  Xavier watched his student absorb this.  "But, in the meantime, I'd wonder if you could do a favor for me?"

          Scott glanced at the Professor, eyebrows rising over his ruby quartz shades.  "What's that?"

          "I was wondering if you could give Miss Sefton a call.  I am sure she would like to visit with Kurt."

          "Can't you do that?"  Scott asked, clearly unwilling to leave Jean's side.

          "I'm sure she would appreciate a friendly voice breaking the news to her.  You can use the phone right in Dr. McCoy's office.  You won't be far from Jean."

          Scott looked down at the redhead again, then slowly and reluctantly released her hand.  "Alright.  Just because you asked."

          "Thank you, Scott."  Xavier smiled as he turned and wheeled out of the infirmary.  As he reached the mansions upper levels, it made him feel much better to hear his students voices again, often intermingled with some of their guests.

          Xavier had offered both the Brotherhood and the Acolytes a place to stay at the mansion while their leader remained under his care.  Sabertooth had declined immediately and departed abruptly, much to the relief of everyone present.  Pyro also chose to leave, though he had been far more polite about it, and said he'd be in touch.

          Pietro, the Blob, Toad and Wanda opted to return to the boarding house, saying they just weren't comfortable staying in the mansion.  Tabby stayed behind, and though it wasn't official, many felt like she was part of team once again.

          Lance also took up residence in the mansion, and was officially ordained an X-Man, much to Kitty's delight.  He kept his old costume for the most part, although an X was added to his belt, and he had finally discarded the fishbowl.

          The houseguests that were generating the most buzz, however, were the Acolytes Gambit and Colossus, both accepting Xavier's invitation.  Colossus seemed especially concerned with Magneto's welfare, but whether that was out of genuine concern for the man, or something else could not be ascertained, for the stoic Russian certainly wasn't offering any answers.

          Although the X-Men were weary of the Acolytes presence, the New Mutants, who hadn't had as much exposure to them, were quite taken with both of them.  The girls seemed more attracted to Colossus, with his quiet, sensitive nature.  He was also, as it turned out, an exceptional artist, and the girls were forever hounding him to draw their portraits.

          The boys liked to spend most of their time hanging around with Gambit.  Likely because the cocky Cajun was a born troublemaker, and took to passing on his wisdom to the boys like they were his wards.

          They would make fine additions to the team.  Xavier thought.  Now, how would he go about bringing them around?

          "Sefton residence."

          "Can I speak to Amanda, please?"

          Mr. Sefton paused for a moment as he considered the voice on the other end of the phone.  It didn't have a German accent.  That earned the owner a few points.  Maybe it might be a nice normal boy asking for his daughter.

          "May I ask who's calling?"

          "Scott Summers, I'm a friend from school."

          Summers…Summers…the name was vaguely familiar, but Mr. Sefton could not recall where he might have heard it.  He couldn't think of any reason why he should be alarmed though.

          "One moment please."

          "Thank you."

          He was polite too.  Of course that other…boy…had been polite, right up until he and his freakish friend had destroyed the house.  "Amanda!  Telephone!"

          A pause, then; "I've got it Daddy!"

          Amanda put the phone back to her ear.  "Hello?"

          "Amanda, it's Scott."

          "Scott, are you alright?  You don't sound very well."

          "I feel even worse, but that's not the reason I called."

          "I figured as much.  What's up?"

          Scott was quiet for a few moments, evidently trying to figure out how he was going to say what he had called to say."  "It's about Kurt."

          Amanda sat bolt upright.  "What about him?"

          "He's…hurt."

          "Hurt how?"  Amanda was beginning to get highly annoyed.  Scott wasn't making it easy to get answers about her boyfriend.

          "He's unconscious, in a coma.  It happened during a fight.  The Professor thought you should know, and you can come see him if you like."

          "I'll be right there."  In one fluid motion, she hung up the phone, grabbed her coat, bolted down the stairs, called a good-bye to her father and was out the door.

          She was in such a rush that she failed to notice her father still had the phone in his hand, and that he had been listening in to her entire conversation.

          Hank poked his head into the infirmary.  "Scott, you have a visitor."

          Scott growled to himself as he glanced at the door.  What was it now, for God's sake?  Couldn't they see he just wanted to be alone with Jean, to be there for her when she woke up?  Whoever this visitor was had some nerve…

          "Hey bro, you're looking a little rough around the edges."

          "Alex?"  All of Scott's unpleasant thoughts evaporated as the bleached-blond, eternally tanned figure of his brother sauntered into the door.  "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"  he asked as he got up from his seat to hug Alex in greeting.

          "Wanted to surprise you, Scott.  The Professor seemed to think you could use some cheering up.  Said you had been run through the wringer."

          "Yeah, I guess you could say that."  Scott replied, smiling for what seemed to be the first time in days.

          Alex glanced down at Jean's unconscious form.  "How is she?"

          Scott sighed.  "The same as she's been the past few days."

          "Bummer, man.  I know how much she means to you.  But if I know Jean, then I know that as long as she's still breathing, she's still fighting.

          "Where is he?"

          Scott and Alex turned to the door.  Amanda was standing there, looking very winded.  Apparently she had run all the way to the institute.

          "Right there, Amanda."  Scott said, pointing to the third bed from the left, upon which the blue-furred Nightcrawler currently lay.

          Amanda crossed the room briskly and knelt by Kurt's bedside. She reached out to grasp one of his three-fingered hands in her own, her other brushing his indigo hair away from his forehead.

          "What happened to him, Scott?  What happened to all of them?"  She added, noticing for the first time Kurt's roommates, all in similar positions to him.

          "They've had their energy drained.  It happened during our last fight against a new group of mutants.  Except for Jean here, she's recovering from severe psychic trauma."

          Amanda turned back to Kurt.  "Will he be okay?"

          "Dr. McCoy says he's getting stronger every day.  It shouldn't be too much longer until he wakes up."

          Amanda leaned over to press a light kiss to Kurt's furry lips.  "I'd like to stay until he does."

          Scott smiled.  "I'm sure the Professor wouldn't mind at all.

          One by one the Marauders marched into the darkened room dressed in their combat uniforms.  They stood in a neat row, all silent at attention, even the normally boisterous Mimic.  Karl Lykos stood there too, trembling in the loincloth that was a tad too big for him.  Deprived of mutant energies (the Marauders were hardly about to offer themselves up to him) the reptilian Sauron had reverted to his human form.  The promise of a mission, though, assured Lykos that he'd have more sustenance for his alter ego soon enough.  He wasn't sure if that thought was comforting, or horrifying.

          Before them stood the imposing visage of the pale man.  The man who was responsible for traveling the world and bringing them all together, plucking them each form one dead end life after another.  The man responsible for molding them into a formidable fighting group, who would herald his coming.

          "I have a very important mission for you, my Marauders."  He purred in his menacing, baritone voice.  "I must ask that you acquire something for me."

          "You just name it boss, we'll deliver."  Rictor said.

          "I have no doubt of that, Julio.  I know you would never think to disappoint me."  The pale man turned to one wall, where three pictures were tacked up.  Portraits of Scott, Alex, and Rogue.  "I need you to fetch these three mutants for me and bring them here.  I would prefer that they be relatively unharmed, but by no means is it necessary for you to take them conscious."

          "I recognize those two from the fight."  Rictor said, pointing at Scott's and Rogue's pictures.  "But what about him?"  He asked, indicating Alex.

          "Alex Summers is currently staying in Bayville with his brother, Scott."  The pale man replied.  "You will rarely find one without the other."

          The Marauders bowed.  "We go at once."  Rictor said, before leading the group out the door.

          "Good hunting, my Marauders."

          Rogue breathed deeply and stretched in the mid-day sun, enjoying the peace as she strolled through the mansions excessive grounds.  She was currently about as far away as one could get from the mansion while still being on the property.

          She needed to get away from the hustle and bustle of the mansion every now and then, especially while everyone was still recovering from their loss to the Marauders.

          Now if only he would stop following her.

          "Ain't there laws about stalkin' people, swamp rat?"  She asked irritably as she whirled around.

          "Remy live under da same roof as you now petite.  Pretty sure dat means in don't count, non?"

          "And why exactly do ya insist on follwin' me around all the time?"

          Remy shrugged.  "You always runnin' off by your lonesome.  Figured you might like Remy's company."

          "What on earth would make ya think that?"

          "Cause de fillie's always want Remy's company."  He replied with his trademark, cocky grin.

          Rogue huffed.  "You are way too full o' yahself.  Ah, for one, am not interested in ya company."

          Gambit raised an eyebrow, his red-on-black eyes sparkling mischievously.  "If dat true, den why you blushin' chere?"

          Rogue blinked and then, much to her chagrin, discovered she was blushing.  She prepared an angry retort, when the ground started shaking.  This only served to fuel Rogue's impressive temper.

          "Alvers!  This ain't funny!  Come out here so Ah can set ya straight!"

          "Avalanche has nothing to do with this, my dear.  It's something much worse."  Rictor answered as he emerged from the foliage, Bishop and Mimic in tow.

          Rogue took a few steps back in shock.  Marauders?  Here?  "Ah wouldn' sound so cocky if Ah was you.  Ah'll bet any minute the others are gonna respond to the alarm an'…"

          "Don't insult my intelligence, child."  Rictor interrupted.  "I happen to know for a fact that your mansions security net does not extend this far out."  He turned to glance at his comrades.  "Gentleman, you know the score.  The girl is to be taken alive.  The Cajun, well…we needn't be quite as careful with him."

          Bishop grunted in response.  Reaching behind him, he drew his futuristic looking weapon, leveled it with Remy's chest, and fired.

          Fortunately, Gambit was fast on his feet.  Darting to one side, he managed to twist away from the blast, letting it pass by him and obliterate a tree instead.  "Playin' fo' keeps, dis one."  He muttered to himself.  "Den Gambit play dat way to.  Gotta score ta settle wit' dis homme anyways."

          Reaching into his duster, Gambit extracted three playing cards from his ever present deck, charged them with kinetic energy, and let fly.  Bishop allowed the cards to impact on his chest, exploding.  Bishop's body absorbed all the energy with no harm done to him.

          Remy grimaced in annoyance.  "Forgot you do dat, mon ami.  Guess Gambit hafta do dis wit' the hands on approach."  Reaching into his duster once again, he extracted the slim metal cylinder that extended itself into his staff.  With a running leap, Gambit sailed over Bishops head, landing directly behind him.  Bishop whirled around, but Remy's staff knocked the gun from his hands before he could bring it to bare and fire.

          Bishop took the loss of his weapon in stride, he was anything but dependant on it.  When Gambit's staff game in for a second strike, Bishop snatched it out of the air with a large fist, then pivoted on his left foot, planting his right firmly in Gambit's chest.

          The armor of Gambit's uniform absorbed much of the blow, but Bishop was a powerful man, and Remy was still knocked back a few feet.  Luckily, he managed to keep his grip on his staff, and he raised it just in time to parry the fist on a collision course with his head.  He then swept the staff in an underhand motion, nailing an uppercut blow to Bishop's chin.  The large mutant stumbled, but did not fall over.

          Gambit risked a glance to see how Rogue was doing, and was not pleased at what he saw.  Mimic had copied his powers, and was currently charging any small object he could get his hands on and throwing them at Rogue.  She was dodging the best she could, but Rictor continued to shake the ground under her, causing her to constantly lose her footing.

          Remy's mind began the task of trying to work out a way he could break away from his fight with Bishop to help her.  That was when a blast of energy slammed into the side of his skull, knocking him instantly unconscious.

          He had forgotten about the energy Bishop had absorbed earlier.

          Although Rogue was being kept suitably busy, she still caught the brief flash out of the corner of her eye.  Glancing sideways, she was just in time to see Bishop fell Gambit with a blast of stored energy.  For reasons she didn't want to think about, seeing Gambit toppled tugged painfully at her heart.  Growling, she turned her attention to the situation at hand.  She knew touching Mimic would be useless, he'd just copy her powers to make himself immune again.  Rictor, on the other hand, was a different story.  If she could just get close enough…

          It was not to be, however.  With Gambit taken care of, Bishop was free to join the fight against her.  Three Marauders against one X-Man were odds far too great to overcome.  Before long, Rogue was lying sprawled at their feet.

          "Man, I do hope it won't always be this easy."  Mimic complained as he slung Rogue over his shoulder.  "Otherwise, beating on these little X-Men will get very boring very quickly."

          "What do we do about him?"  Bishop asked, jerking a thumb at Remy.

          Rictor considered it for a few moments before shrugging.  "Might as well bring him along.  Maybe the boss can find some use for him."

          Scott and Alex Summers sat at a table at Scott's favorite outdoor café.  Alex had finally convinced his older brother to leave Jean's bedside for a few hours to get some fresh air and a bite to eat.  Now that he was out of the house, Scott was finding that he was glad his brother had convinced him to get away for awhile.  Though he was still worried about Jean, he knew if he didn't take care of himself, he'd end up in the bed next to her.

          Scott blushed slightly as his thoughts slipped towards the gutter for a few moments.  He brought himself back to reality when he realized Alex was speaking to him.

          "What?  I'm sorry, I spaced out for a minute."

          "I said, what's everybody staring at?"  Alex repeated, pointing at something over Scott's shoulder.

          Scott turned to see that the other patrons of the café were all staring at something and muttering.  A few screamed and left their tables in a hurry.  Scott stood to get a better look, and immediately wished he had stayed at the mansion.

          Polaris was striding through the café like she owned the place, accompanied by Marrow, Psylocke, Banshee, and a frail looking man Scott didn't recognize.

          He knew instantly that they had come here looking for him.

          "Who're those guys, Scott?"  Alex asked, coming over to stand next to his brother.

          "They're the ones who hurt Jean and the others."  Scott replied, fixing a steely glare on Psylocke, even though it was hidden by his shades.  He wished desperately he had his visor on him.  There was sure to be a fight.

          "Alright, let's get the pleasantries out of the way first."  Polaris said imperiously as she stopped in front of Scott and Alex.  "this is the part when you get a chance to surrender."

          "And this is the part when I tell you to go to hell."  Scott snapped.

          "Yes, of course."  Polaris sniffed.  "Well, you can't say I didn't give you a chance.  Karl?"  She glanced at frail man.

          Karl nodded and stepped up to Scott.  He was so taken aback by the man's appearance that he didn't think to consider him a threat.  All of a sudden, Scott felt himself growing lightheaded.  In front of him, Karl seemed to be changing.  He was trembling less, and he seemed to be bulking up.  His skin looked to be changing color too, taking on a darker tone, though it was hard to tell through the rose tint of his glasses.

          But then Scott caught his eyes.  Before, they were pale and watery.  Now, they were shining with a wicked light, obviously delighting in the violence that was about to be committed.

          Scott knew the eyes all to well.  Thinking quickly, he raised his sunglasses and blasted Karl full on in the chest.  The man rocketed backwards, but Scott knew he hadn't done enough damage to put him out of commission, he had lost too much energy.  Fortunately, he had stopped Karl before he could siphon off enough to complete his metamorphosis.

          The rest of the Marauders took that as the signal to attack.  Psylocke surged forward, psychic knife flaring to life.  She dove straight for Scott, grin on her face.

          "Remember me?"  She said, looking to thrust her knife into Scott's brain.

          "All too well.  I owe you double for what you did to Jean!"  Scott shouted back, ducking under her thrust.  He was still woozy, though, and the move left him dizzy.  He wouldn't be able to dodge Psylocke's knee.

          He didn't have to, though.  Two bursts of plasma slammed into Psylocke, knocking her into a table.  Alex spun and immediately targeted Marrow, blasting her off her feet before she could club him with the large, blunt bone she was brandishing.

          Alex, unfortunately, was doing enough harm to himself.  He had not yet refined the use of his powers, and he was already beginning to feel drained.  He was barely able to roll out of the way when Polaris flung a lamppost at him with her magnetic powers.

          Scott shook off his weariness and lifted his glasses again.  Twin beams of scarlet energy shot out, blasting apart the ground at Polaris' feet, knocking her off balance.  He prepared to take another shot, when Banshee's debilitating sonic scream tore through his brain, causing him to clutch his head in agony.  His brother did the same next to him, wincing as he tried to shut the piercing noise out.

          Psylocke extracted herself from the table, a very unladylike sneer on her face.  She took great pleasure in ramming her psychic knife into Scott's head.

          Karl stormed his way back over as well, reaching out to drain the last of the fight from Alex.  With a screech and a flap of his mighty wings, Sauron was born again.

          Across town, in the bowels of the Xavier Institute, Jean Grey jerked awake from nightmares plagued by purple-haired demons with swords for arms.  A single word formed on her lips as she regained consciousness for the first time in days.

          "Scott!"

          Scott Summers woke slowly, his entire body ached, though his head was the worse.  Panicking suddenly, his hands shot to his face, and he was relieved to feel his glasses still in place.  Opening his eyes, he took stock of his surroundings.

          He was in what appeared to be a basement.  From the looks of things, it had been hastily converted into a prison of some kind.  Bars were fitted over the windows, causing the sunlight that filtered in to have a striped look.  Off in one corner, a boiler rumbled away as it heated the house above it.

          Glancing around again, he saw his brother sprawled on the floor a few feet away.  Scott hurried to his side, ignoring the pounding headache the movement gave him.

          "Alex…Alex are you alright?"

          "Your brother will recover.  Sauron only took enough energy to render him unconscious for a few hours, he will recover soon."

          Scott whirled around at the sound of a voice he did not recognize, hand on his glasses, ready to lift them away.  The speaker was hidden in shadows, and Scott could make out nothing about him, except for the eyes, glowing blood-red in the semi-darkness.

          "Who're you?"  Scott demanded.

          A chuckle.  "My name, dear boy, is the very embodiment of who and what I am."

          "And that is?"

          The speaker stepped into the light.  He was an imposing figure, dressed in a dark blue costume that looked like it was some kind of armor.  His face, the only skin that was uncovered, was a deathly pale color.  One would almost call it white.  He had black hair that was cropped close to his head in a kind of buzz cut.  His red eyes continued to glow menacingly, as he smiled a smile full of malice.

          "I…am Sinister."

Dun dun dunnnnn!!!  Yes, it's true!  The diabolical leader of the Marauders is, indeed, Mr. Sinister.  Congratulations to everyone who guessed correctly (which is everyone, I believe, wasn't hard to figure out.)  So, what does Sinister want with the Summers Brothers?  What about Rogue?  All questions to be answered soon!  Keep coming with those reviews and suggestions to pairings.  Remember, pairings are not necessarily restricted to one group.  Rosters are subject to change after all.  Until next time.  Cobra awayyyyy!!