SEVENTEEN

North inhaled deeply after lighting a cigarette. We were in his old office, the only contents of which were his desk and a few chairs. Everything else had been boxed up and moved his new office in City Hall. He glared at us both as he leaned back in his chair. "Have you thought that I might not have wanted to remember anything about my past?" He demanded. "I've built myself up a pretty good existence here. I'm a different man." He leaned forward at that moment, still fixing us with that baleful glare. "The man I was and the man I am today might not get along, if you know what I mean."

Wraith nodded. "We're all having the same problems at the moment, North," He said. "What you have to appreciate is whatever we were involved in back then has led to some unwanted attention in us now, if the attempts to kill Logan and myself are anything to go by. You're not searching for answers, fine. But don't try and hinder our search."

North contemplated this, tapped his fingers on the desk. "So far you have managed to find a weak link between Xavier's father and Worthington's grandfather," He said at length, drawing out each word. "Both men had a financial interest in a government experiment that might have involved human subjects." North gestured with his cigarette, sending blue smoke trails through the air. "This Barrington fellow may or may not have been involved back then, and we are all aware that Kwannon made mention of him in her note. A note, I might add, which clears Logan of any wrongdoing." He shrugged. "The whole thing sounds like a badly plotted radio drama, you both know that."

Wraith grinned. "Absolutely."

North returned his grin and looked at me. "So we try and find these answers you both want."

I was jolted out of the mire of thought I was stuck in throughout the whole conversation. "You mean you'll help us?"

He nodded. "Might be just like old times." He snorted a laugh. "If we could remember what the old times were like."

We left North after his promise to do what he can to locate Creed. Throughout all of this, Wraith seemed most concerned about Creed's absence. I only remembered bits and pieces, glimpses of a wild eyed man with a mean disposition and an appetite for carnage that would not be quenched. I relayed my recollections to Wraith, who nodded grimly. "Sounds like the Creed I remember."

"Why are you afraid he will come after us?"

Wraith smiled wryly at me. "If he's paid enough he'll go anywhere and do anything." He shook his head and laughed under his breath. "But getting back at you, he'd do for free."

I stopped him by grabbing his arm at the elbow. "What does that mean?"

Wraith just looked at my hand on his arm and shook his head sorrowfully. "When you couldn't go through with that last mission, he was going to kill you. North and I had to pull him off you and we made the decision then and there to dump Creed and get the hell outta that place before the Reds sent their guy after us. Creed hated the fact that you disobeyed a direct order, and in doing so you divided the team, such at it was." We began walking again, hitting a large crowd of people and blending right in. "He's the only one of us that I couldn't track," Wraith said. "He's one man I could gladly shoot in the head while he sleeps. In fact that's what I was planning to do if I ever found him."

We walked in silence for a little while, both of us lost in our own contemplation. I was beginning to see a bigger picture emerging now: Wraith's reluctance to tell me what he remembers; North's refusal to believe what he remembers, and me lagging behind, unable to remember. It was clear Wraith was afraid of Creed, and as far as I can tell, Wraith wouldn't blink twice if he was faced with a charging bull elephant if it was between him and his goal. His expression when he uttered Creed's name was one of fear, hate and apprehension. Creed was a voice in my dreams, a blur of vision sometimes, but nothing ever tangible. Wraith's reluctance to put himself in a situation to confront Creed gave me pause. "He scares you…" I said the words before I could catch them.

Wraith regarded me silently for a few moments and nodded slowly. "Maybe he does." He said it matter of factly, in the same tone as someone commenting on the weather. I felt a sudden chill in the air.

We walked in silence for a while, being jostled on all sides by harassed people trying to get where they were going, and as we rounded a corner, Wraith lit a cigarette and said "Damn." He had come to a complete standstill, and I felt out of place for a moment, standing still in a torrent of moving bodies. I was about to protest when I saw the look in Wraith's eyes. He glanced over my shoulder. "Those guys have been following us since we left town hall."

I knew better than to look around, just trusted in what Wraith was saying. "How many?"

"Two. Big ones. They saw me clock 'em, and they've slowed a bit, tried to blend into the crowd."

"They packing?"

Wraith's eyes narrowed and he made a half shake of his head. "Can't tell."

"So what do we do? Try to lose 'em?"

Wraith thought about it. "You ever known a hired goon who'd give up a paycheck rather than chase down the guy you're meant to tail?"

I had to admit I hadn't. Wraith's eyes were scanning the crowd, but I still resisted the urge to turn around. "Its too out in the open for them to try anything stupid," I whispered. "This ain't Chicago, for chrissakes."

Wraith motioned with his chin. "Here they come, nice and slow, like the got all the time in the world. One in a grey suit and the other in a navy blue one. Avoid a scene if you can, okay?"

I nodded and squared my shoulders just as I heard one of the goons speak.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. How long did you know we were following you?"

I turned and sized both men up. The one in the grey suit was like a wall with a head on top. The other was less stocky, shorter, and looked just as mean. "Long enough," I responded. Wraith smoked in silence

"We've been sent to offer you a ride with our employer," The little guy said, all Brooklyn accent and attitude. He looked ready to flip out our eyes with his pocketknife.

"And if we refuse?" Wraith asked.

The big guy opened his jacket long enough for us to see his piece. I looked from the gun to the big guy's face and said "Surely you guys don't wanna throw down in broad daylight?"

The little one squared his shoulders. "We've been told to bring you top our boss. He didn't say what state you'd be in if you refused though."

"Logan, looks our ride's here," Wraith said.

I turned to see a white limousine cruise to a stop beside us. We were escorted to the limo by the goons, and they shoved us roughly into the back. Once we were inside, I noticed that the goons did not join us.

We were alone with Warren Worthington the Third.

"You could have just asked, Warren." I said.

"If I thought you'd have accepted an invitation from me, I might have," Warren said, lighting a cigarette. "But I needed to talk to you both in private. This whole fiasco has gone far enough." He exhaled blue smoke at the ceiling, and Warren pointed at Wraith. "Mr. Wraith, would you be so kind as to take that bottle of champagne from its cooler and pour us each a glass? You will find the glasses on the shelf behind you."

Wraith hesitated and did as he was told. The champagne fizzed in each of the fine crystal glasses, filling the little space between us. Wraith handed a glass to Warren and then one to me. He poured his last. When he all had our drinks, Warren held up his glass in a toast. "To secrets better left behind." He sipped his drink and Wraith and I did the same, for want of anything better to do. I felt the hard lump of my gun resting against my back, and wondered if this would be the occasion to use it. "You two have become quite the team lately. I wondered how long it would take you to rediscover your link."

"How much do you know?" Wraith demanded.

Warren smiled and wagged a finger at Wraith. "I know that you found Mastodon and Maverick. Plus the erstwhile mister Logan here. Building up your team again…"

Wraith leaned forward, his look intense. "You knew I was searching for them?"

Warren laughed softly and sipped his champagne, regarded the glass for a moment, and smiled in my direction. "This is a very fine champagne, Logan. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I'd much prefer beer."

"I've been waiting a long time to open this particular bottle. It was one of my father's. I do not waste fine champagne on men I intend to kill, so you can relax and stop thinking about the gun you think you have concealed in your waistband. Enjoy yourself. I'm about to show you what it is you've been searching for all these years."

"Why?" Wraith asked. "What do you have to gain from this?"

"Very little, as it turns out, Mr. Wraith," Warren said softly, his eyes locking with Wraith's across the empty space between them. "I was fooled, along with everyone else."

Wraith sipped his champagne and regarded Warren with a look that could see through lead paint. "Alright, so you made some sorta deal with whoever did this to us."

Warren nodded. "Mister Wraith, I can't tell you everything. Not now. But since you have both come a long way to try and piece this thing together…I will tell you something just to whet your appetite. You remember when your friend Mastodon died?"

Wraith nodded. "Never saw a man slip away so quickly."

"His death was due to a procedure that you were all subjected to. A longevity treatment. Mastodon was one of the first test subjects, so the procedure was not perfected by then. His body regressed to its actual age soon after you met him." Before Wraith could speak again, Warren cut him off. "And that's all I am going to say for now. You two just sit tight and we will talk in depth, and you will have your answers, when we reach our destination."

"And where might that be?" I asked.

Warren allowed himself a little smile, downed the rest of his glass. Determination shone in his eyes. "From here, we are heading to the airport. We will then get on my plane and we are going to Canada."