Note: As the title of this chapter may alert you, this is where the story takes a turn for the darker side. Now that I feel I have the characters and their relationships fortified, I will begin progressing with the main story line. What is that you may ask? Well, you've just got to keep reading…
Traffic passed rather quietly for New Your City. Yellow cabs flooded the street with patrons sparsely populating the sidewalks that crossed before the small museum. It was an old building in Manhattan, you know the kind, about 20 or so steep concrete steps leading up to a columned entrance that stretched up to the second floor.
Children were walking down the steps, turning the concrete footholds into an adventure. A mother tried her best to keep them herded into one group as they descended, a hotdog cart was being pushed past the entrance, a bike messenger took a shortcut up on the sidewalk, barely missing a pedestrian.
Two figures sat backlit against the setting sun on the roof of the adjacent building. They watched the entrance, the crowd, looking for the pattern that every section of the Earth would sooner or later work itself into.
"I want to thank you." Piotr spoke, breaking the silence between the two.
"For what?" Gambit asked, still looking over the ledge of the roof and down at the museum.
"Not choosing Kitty to aid you on this mission."
"No problem." He looked over at his friend, eyebrow raised. "Got a soft spot for de petite?"
Piotr hesitated to speak. "She is not prepared for this type of mission." He answered.
"Thought so." Remy smiled, looking back down at the street below. "You got it bad."
Piotr looked down to where the thief studied his prey. "One should look into the mirror before making such allegations."
He smiled, a mutual agreement between the two reached.
"What you think?" Gambit asked after a few more moments of silence, looking up at his companion and jerking his head back in the museum's direction.
"I was under the impression that you were the professional thief?" Colossus questioned, eliciting a shrug from Remy before continuing. "I think it will be hard, the guards will be suspicious if a teenager wearing sunglasses after dark comes through the doors."
Remy LeBeau smiled. "Thanks Big Red, you just gave me a plan."
Piotr was preparing a comment concerning 'Big Red' when a familiar static rang in his ear. "You two about done sightseeing up there?"
"Bout, don worry none John." Remy smiled as he activated the small microphone in his collar as they left the edge of the roof they were spying from. "We should be able to get this without having to bother you for your help."
"Fine." Pyro cackled while shoving some more fries in his mouth and slurping the last of his Gut Bomb drink. "Leave ole John waiting in the truck like the redheaded stepchild no-one wants." He looked up in the rearview mirror at his own locks of orange hair before tossing the empty fry container to the floorboard and leaning his seat back in the parked SUV. "Ya know mates, one day I'm just going to up and leave…"
Colossus rolled his eyes as he and Gambit entered the roof's stairwell. "Could we ever be that fortunate?"
John continued, oblivious to Piotr's off-air remark to Remy. "…and you two'll be sittin around cryin 'Oh why were we so mean to the boy, he was such a stand up guy. Not to mention his uncanny way with the shelas.' And do you know what?"
"What?" Remy smiled as he asked.
John's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm nor sure." He scratched his head. "Never mind, I started out with a point in mind but it seems to have escaped me."
Remy continued to smile as they exited the stairwell. "Just don't let your driving knowledge escape you. We might be needing a quick lift out of here."
"Right O." John sat his seat upright and examined the Suburban's dash. "Now why in the hell is the bloody steering wheel on the left side again?"
Piotr looked over at Remy. "He is kidding, right?"
"We can only hope."
~~~~~
"What can I get you Hon?" The waitress asked popping the gum in her mouth, snapping the daydreaming teen's attention away from the window. The silver haired youth turned from gazing across the street and looked up at the standing waitress.
"Coffee." He told her. "Uh, decaf." He recalled.
She scribbled on her ticket, popped the gum again, and retreated back to the counter. Turning back to the window, Pietro Maximoff watched the two shadows move from the edge of the building that bordered the museum and out of sight.
His blue eyes narrowed. He would prove that he was worthy enough to be his father's son. Only question was: How?
~~~~~
The door to the museum opened, and a large foot crossed the threshold. Piotr walked in the front door, strolling casually towards the metal detector which separated him from the rest of the building. Several guards sat around the machines, some enjoying a paper or magazine in the slow hours before closing.
One guard looked up from his monitor and regarded the well over six foot Russian indifferently. As he reached the entrance to the detector he formed a single metal band across his chest hidden beneath his clothes, which intern sent the machine screaming.
"Sir, can you step over here please." One of the four guards that stood upon hearing the machine's warning commanded.
"Vhat did I do?" Piotr spoke innocently, trying to elevate his already prominent Russian accent as much as he could.
"Just step to the side Sir, you set off the detector."
Piotr obediently stood on the yellow stripe that he was directed to as two more guards came into the room. One guard approaching with a handheld metal detector.
"Spread your arms and stand with your legs apart Sir." He instructed. Piotr did as he was told, and let his mutation take over his big toe.
"Sir, can you please remove your shoe." The guard stepped back once the machine alerted him.
He did as he was asked, taking the shoe off and holding it upside down to indicate nothing was inside. The guard swiped the detector over the shoe, nothing.
"Is it malfunctioning?" One of the men standing there asked. The guard turned the machine back on and passed it over his own person, listening to the whale as it passed his sidearm.
"I do not understand." Piotr interrupted the guards talking to one another. "I am citizen, I came to America to be free, and now you tell me that I am forbidden to enter a museum?"
"Sir, you are not forbidden but I cannot allow you in if you cannot pass security."
"I have no weapons!" Piotr rose his voice and raised his hands in mock anger. It had the desired effect, one of the guards spoke quietly into his radio.
~~~~
Gambit watched from the air duct as the guard picked up his radio. The two were alone, monitoring the small room whose walls held the display cases. He could see the spear he was after, third one from the right on the left wall, hardly the center of attention.
"We are going to need some more people at the front." The radio barked loud enough for him to hear. The two guards nodded to one another and walked briskly out the door.
*Good job Piotr.* Gambit thought and smirked.
Fastening a rope to one of the supports of the air duct, he wasted no time lifting the grate and descending to the floor of the small room. The second his feet touched the tiled floor, Remy LeBeau went to work.
Reaching into the hidden pockets of his coat he produced a set of small mirrors and a spray can. He sprayed the aerosol can around the display case, looking for the laser beam that would trigger the alarm when broken. Only there wasn't one.
Sighing he removed a small handheld device and pointed the antenna at the case. The sensor would retrieve the signal the alarm was transmitting on, and then replay it while Remy opened the case and retrieved the spear. But there was no signal either.
Pocketing the device he searched the viewing case, looking for the weakest point that he could exploit to gain entry. Most of these type display cases were only accessible from the back, where behind the seemingly solid wall was a safe-room the valuables had to pass through any time they were removed. But then Remy's fingers ran across the small keyhole.
"Talk about a buzz kill." Remy muttered removing a lock-back knife from his belt and flicking it open. He couldn't even get excited about this job.
Slipping the knife in the crack next to the $1.50 lock available at any hardware store he struck the handle and popped the door free. He grabbed the spear, wrapped it in cloth and proceeded to tie it around his back.
"Remy got to knock over some Jewelry stores pretty soon or he going to lose his touch."
The alarm sounded.
~~~~
The entrance doors of the museum were flung open, and a dozen men in black suits poured through. All the guards, and even Piotr, turned their attention to them.
"Detain him now!" The lead one barked while pointing at Piotr. "Sound the alarm; you have a break-in on the 4th floor." He finished as they all ran through the protesting metal detectors and dispersed through the building.
The guard standing behind Piotr quickly complied, holding the handle of his billy club and driving the three inch base into Piotr. It struck between two ribs, tearing the muscles as it imbedded itself deeper in his side. Even a man of Piotr's size and stature could not ignore the attack, and the sharp pain quickly took him to his hands and knees of the floor, gasping for air.
The guards turned from the man cringing on the floor to the video monitors, quickly scanning the top floor for the intruder. In their moment of underestimation Piotr concentrated, turning into his metal form. None felt the breeze that came in through the open doors, and blew up the stairs.
~~~~
"Shit!" Remy cursed, quickly fashioning the wrapped spear to his back and bolting out the door. Did they have a thermal scanner? Some hidden video camera he couldn't find? Questions flooded through he thief's head as he went through the abandoned hall. But all questions stopped as a slight breeze brushed against his cheek, and Pietro Maximoff appeared before him.
"What in the hell are you doing here!?!" Remy yelled.
Pietro held his hands up before him. "Listen, I know I'm a screw up…"
"You screwing up now too!" Remy threatened, angrily closing the distance between them.
"Willyoushutupasceond!" Quicksilver barked out surprisingly forceful, stopping Remy from continuing. "I followed you two here, thought you might need some help."
Shouts traveled through the hallway and Remy moved them to the side as several guards could be heard rushing in the stairwell. "Yeah, you be given us some fine help."
"I didn't do this. I was watching from the café across the street. A whole bunch of cars pulled up in a hurry, all black, looked like the stuff you'd see in the Matrix or something." Pietro explained as Gambit took a peek out into the hall. "All these guys in black suits hoped out and ran into the building. I waited until I heard the alarm sound and ran in here. Nobody saw me."
"Better not be lying Speedy." Gambit mumbled and ignored Pietro as he turned on his headset.
"Piotr?" The Russian threw the last conscious guard to the ground as the transmitter projected Remy's voice into his ear.
Changing back into his flesh he reached up to his collar and pressed the transmit button. "Yes?"
"Dere be a big red stained glass window on de back side of the building. Get in de car wit John and go round back in the alley below it." He could hear guards in the distance and Remy's voice got quieter. "Might want to make it fast."
"Everything alright mate?" John's worried voice came on the line, but there was no response. "You heard the master thief, get your butt back here Peety."
Piotr's earpiece went dead as John sighed off. Shaking his head at the name 'Peety', he started for the door as sirens could be heard growing louder in the distance. However, upon taking a step in his now vulnerable form Piotr faltered, tripping and falling to his knees.
He could taste the copper in his mouth, and spit blood to the floor. As he wiped the red from his lips he could feel the burning pain in his side, and the torn muscles scream as he inhaled. Summoning up all his will he wrapped a gigantic arm around his torso and held his side where the guard had struck him, stumbling through the door.
~~~~~
Gambit looked back at Pietro. "I know I'm going to be movin too slow for you but just stay behind me."
"Fine." Pietro agreed.
Gambit took one last glance at the hall and stepped out.
One of the side effects of his mutation was speed. Not the physical speed he prided himself on, but speed of the mind, speed of the senses. Which meant when accompanied with the adrenalin released in anyone system on a time of emergency; Pietro Maximoff truly saw things happen in slow motion. And the guard stepping around the corner with a raised shotgun was no exception.
"Get down!" Pietro yelled as he lunged at Gambit.
Pietro's words hit Remy's ears at the same time Quicksilver did, pushing him to the floor. The gun discharged, and Pietro seemed to fold in half while he was still in the air.
Gambit threw the card in anger as he hit the floor, which was the only thing that saved the guard's life. In his haste he aimed at the guard's chest instead of his head. The card struck the gun, exploding on contact and sending the unconscious man flying back into the stairwell.
Remy rose to his feet, and looked down at Quicksilver lying motionless in the hall. His eyes were closed, a scrape on his forehead where he struck the floor, and a baseball sized circle of dark red seeping through his shirt. Quickly he knelt at the younger mutant's side and lifted the fabric from his chest.
It had been a beanbag.
There was already a bruise forming around where it had struck his abdomen, and the cut the impact had busted open was only in the flesh. Remy hoisted the younger mutant onto his shoulder and ran out of the room. Relying on his photographic memory of the blueprints, he ran down the hall on the quickest rout to the large windows overlooking the back of the museum.
"John, I sure hope you dere mon ami."
Rounding into the last hall he halted his retreat, as did the four figures approaching from the other end. It didn't take a college education to tell Remy that they were not on the museum payroll. Black suits, and the drawn Mateba revolvers each held in their hand were not from the police armory either.
The window was just behind them. John and Piotr were just below that window, waiting for them in the alley.
How could forty feet look so long?
They didn't advance as Remy carefully and slowly sat the still unconscious Pietro down and leaned him against the wall.
Looking at him as he stood back up Remy smiled, remembering a promise to himself from long ago. A promise to never lose another teammate because he didn't use his powers.
~~~5 years prior~~~
The fifteen year old leaped through Spain's night air and across the gap spanning two roofs, his feet agilely compensating for the tilt of the tiles.
"We'll never get away Remy!" The blond thirteen year old huffed as he ran behind him.
"Yah, we will!" Remy called back to Entienne. Why him? The Tilling wasn't supposed to be a walk in the park, but a platoon of commando's waiting at the target was a little out of the ordinary.
"Use your powers!"
"What?" Remy called back, being snapped out of his thoughts and staring back at his petrified cousin. "You know about dem?"
"I spied on you blowing t'ings up at de waterfront. I know." Entienne finished as they dropped to an alley. The streets of Granada were quiet at this time of night
"I, I can't." The young Remy stammered as they took refuge in the shadows against the cool brick wall.
"Why? Cause of de rules of de Tilling? Dat you only supposed to be watchin, not helping me? Heck with dat, I ain't goin die for de sake of a Guild Ceremony!" His cousin pleaded.
"Non, its more than just dat Et." His cast his youthful red on black eyes to the stone under their feet. "I can't control my powers enough yet. I might kill someone."
Entienne watched as several of the commandoes closed in on them. "Humph, so you go ahead and spare der lives, but it will cost us ours?"
~~~Present Day~~~
Remy LeBeau wasn't seeing humans vs. mutants, he wasn't seeing guards vs. robbers, all he saw was kill or be killed.
Five cards leapt into each hand,
The guards raised their guns,
John looked up from Piotr who was lying in the backseat to the window above as gunfire echoed out into the street. Within that very second a ball of flames exploded behind the window, shattering it into the night. The jagged edges of the red glass descended to the alley like sharp, blood colored rain.
~~~:*:~~~
A hand picked up the receiver of the ringing phone. "Yes?"
"It has started."
"You are sure."
"I am always sure."
"I thought we had prevented this?"
"We never prevented, merely delayed. But certain actions tonight have undone all we were able to accomplish."
"How?"
"It does not matter. You both will be taken."
"How can I stop it?"
"You cannot, there is no time."
"What else do you see?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Beyond what I have told you has not been decided. It is up to you, her, and another."
"Another?"
"A wild card, someone I have not seen before now."
"I need to go."
"You should not be in a hurry. As I said you can do nothing to avoid this, but you can influence the outcome."
"I know." The voice paused. "I have some thinking to do."
"Raven?"
"Yes." She responded.
"Please, bring her back safely."
"I will Irene."
The receiver clicked.
~~~:*:~~~
He was in control. The guards were frantic, medics and firemen were rushing around, the occasional civilian would pass him on his way into the upper floors of the museum, but he was in control. His silver hair was pulled back into the ponytail behind his head, but the brown bangs hung loose as they normally did about his face.
"Sir, what should we do with the remaining visitors?"
"Detain them in the commons area; I want all their information before they leave. Search the records and security footage, a want to find anyone who may have left before you had a chance to question them."
"Yes Sir."
It was odd to see someone as young as him giving orders to men twice his age. But his authority ran much deeper than any promotion could.
"Keep armed guards posted until further notice, no admittance to any area of the museum." He finished telling the guard before moving on.
"Yes sir." The guard nodded and ran on his way.
The room was still filled with debris. A chalk outline was in the doorway, the body having already been removed from the scene. Looking around and seeing that it would be a moment before anyone came back into the room the young man closed his eyes. He searched, and found.
Moving quickly to the far corner of the room he knelt and moved the through the large pile of rubble. He tossed pieces of concrete to the side, and finally found the object of his search.
The man looked dead, and from the mangled shotgun pressed to his chest it was no wonder. In just a few more moments he would be. Removing the glove from his right hand Omen quickly placed it to the man's face. "Hold on."
The man's breathing strengthened, and Omen removed his hand and pulled his glove back on. "Get a medic up here, I found someone!"
Responding to his yell a pair of firemen rushed in. As they tended to the security guard he quietly slipped back out the door.
He didn't have to be told who was coming. Making his way through the main entrance he went out into the darkened street. The red and blue lights of the ambulances, fire truck, and police cars stung his eyes at first, but they soon settled into a pulsing rhythm.
Walking on the sidewalk he went to the nearest corner, passing the police barricade. He only had to stand at the corner a moment before a black Mercedes pulled up beside him. He got into the back seat, next to his superior.
The lit La Goria Cuban cigar created a barrier of smoke that rose gently upward from the tip. The circles of the tightly rolled tobacco formed rings in the ashes that concealed the glowing red of the smoldering flame. "What happened?" His superior asked as the car moved from the curb and progressed down the street.
"There was a break in tonight." He replied, looking over at the man through the veil of pale gray smoke that created outlines in the air between them. "Our scanners installed in the metal detectors picked up the signature of a mutant with powers that posed a security threat." He paused and tried to find any reaction from the well dressed man sitting next to him. "Apparently, there were two more already inside."
"I trust there were no losses."
"Unfortunately yes, an artifact on the fourth floor." The young man responded, pulling a file from the inside of his suit and placing it on the leather seat between them. "The one you had me retrieve at the airport that night."
His employer visibly scowled. "We finally get it and it is stolen within a month." His words seemed to hiss with a metallic ring. "Do we know who they are?"
"We are not sure at the moment. The one in the lobby was not in our computers, but we are reviewing the tapes now and have already got a good facial of one of the two who were upstairs. My men are running it through the computers now. We have not been able to attain a clear shot of the other individual; he seemed to know our camera locations and avoided any straight shots. From what we do have we have determined he is a Caucasian male, brown hair, around 6ft and between the age of 17 and 23."
"I take it they weren't captured then."
"Both escaped. The silver haired one was injured, apparently by a non-lethal round fired from the injured security guard. We will question him as soon as the doctors deem it possible."
"Any casualties?"
Omen paused. "Four with minor injuries, one in critical condition, three of your personal guard dead." Omen watched his employer's unchanging face as the car stopped in front of their offices.
"They knew exactly what they wanted." He thought aloud. "There is no way they would have passed everything else up and taken that one spear." He cast an eye over at Omen. "No one knew what that spear was, anonymity was our best security."
"The curator said a news crew came by to do a story on the museum earlier in the week. He said some footage was shot in that room."
"Himm." The man mused, holding the cigar up and examining the smoke rising from the tip. "So anonymity was our enemy as well?"
Omen looked over at him. "Your orders sir?"
"Find them." He said curtly, and for the first time since the conversation began placed the cigar to his lips and inhaled.
Omen nodded. "Yes Sir Dr. Essex."
Sorry for the little cliffhanger there, in true Evolution season finale fashion the next chapter will pick up exactly where this one leaves off. Of course, the next one will have another, much worse, cliff hanger.
This is not a season finale for me, I just have a lot of story lines that are about to merge together and I want to be sure I do them right and don't leave out anything I don't want to. So there is going to be a hiatus of updates following the next chapter, probably until August.
Anyway, look for the next chapter to be posted sometime by the end of the week.
Later…
