Disclaimer: I own the idea of the Beast, but his real identity is the property of his creator, as are the League.
Feedback: In a nutshell... GIMME GIMME GIMME! (Remembers queerquail's advice) Please?
Clez: I try my best
Crystal: Hope this was soon enough
LotRseer 3350: I hope it fulfils your hopes
Lady Norbert: Glad I've spiked your curiosity so far; I'll see what I can do to keep it that way
funyun: Glad you like my monster, but believe me, you've yet to see everything that sucker is capable of... In regards to your last comment, maybe in cases like this it's just too disturbing to think of what's under those pants to have them be ripped as well.
queerquail: It was meant to be.
Sean Malloy-1: Can't promise that, but I'll see what I can do...
Funky in Fishnets: I try my best. By the way, liked 'Rest in Peace'- keep it up!
Accendo Caliendrum: Glad my story won your approval, but believe me, that isn't the only hideous thing this creature is going to do...
Legacy
"Salau!"
Sawyer smiled a little as he watched the now-familiar sight of a red buoy flying over his head to land in the sea. It had only been a couple of days since he'd started using this method of shooting practice again; in recent times, he'd been too busy helping Skinner, Jekyll and Hartdegen master the art of the gun to worry about his own abilities on that front.
But, when he'd found himself with some free time on his hands until the Nautilus went underwater again, and with Mina currently occupied with something else, he'd decided he might as well try this out. He was pleased to find that he hadn't forgotten how to pull off long shots like these; part of him had worried that he'd lost his touch for this sort of shot since his fight with Dracula all those months ago.
"Nice one," a voice said from behind him, in a familiar cockney accent.
Sawyer sighed in an overly theatrical way, and turned around to look at the floating coat and hat that indicated the current location of Rodney Skinner.
"Tell me, Skinner," he said, sounding like he was angry with the thief for interrupting him, "is there an important reason why you sneaked up on me like this, or is everyone else occupied with something more important than simple target practice, and you didn't feel like interrupting them?"
"The first one," Skinner said, much to Sawyer's relief; he had made it clear to the other League members that he would only tolerate being interrupted in his shooting practice if the League had a new mission. "We've received a call from old Large. He's waiting for you to reply."
Sawyer smiled a little as Skinner said 'Large'. He knew what it meant; it was Skinner's personal nickname for Mycroft Holmes, but he only ever used it when he was with the League. The thief doubted that Mycroft would like it that much, even though it also referred to Mycroft's great intelligence rather than just his large waist size.
"Right then," he said, slinging Matilda onto his back and looking over to the crewman who'd been firing the projectiles. "Thanks for your help," he said, smiling at the crewman in a friendly manner. "You can go back now; I'll let you know if I want to practice again."
Nodding, the crewman picked the projectile device up and headed down the stairs into the main body of the Nautilus, followed closely by Sawyer and Skinner.
"How's it going?" Skinner asked, as Sawyer pulled the door shut behind him and began to walk on down the steps, just a few paces behind the floating coat that indicated Skinner's presence.
"The shooting? Oh, well enough," Sawyer replied, as he held Matilda in his hands and looked at the barrel. "I can see why Allan was so attached to this rifle; it really is a marvel." He smiled a little as he looked over at the former gentleman thief. "You know, it seems bizarre, but I sometimes feel like this thing improves my aim just by my holding it. Strange, I know, but, well..." He trailed off, staring at the gun with a slight expression of pride on his face before looking towards Skinner. "Anyway, where are the others?"
"The main room," Skinner said, turning back to face the American. "The rest of us are waiting for you, and, last time I checked, old Large was on hold on the radio. You want to dump your gun off before you join us, or just go right there?"
"I'll go there," Sawyer said, as they got off the staircase and began to walk towards the main hall. "I've probably kept them waiting long enough."
As Sawyer opened the doors of the meeting room (As he privately called it), he noticed with relief that the rest of the League appeared fairly relaxed, so he probably hadn't kept them waiting for too long. Mina and Jekyll were discussing some chemistry matter with each other, while Nemo and Hartdegen discussed some things about technology, with Terry sometimes chipping in from where he sat opposite them.
Sawyer smiled a little at the sight; it was moments like these that really made him feel like the League wasn't just a collection of guys trying to save the world, but a genuine family.
"I'm here!" he said, smiling at his friends, who instantly turned to face him. "So, where's the radio?"
"Just here," Mina said, picking the mobile radio out of her pocket and passing it over to Sawyer. "He should still be on the radio; he's been waiting for you for a while now."
"Good," Sawyer said, as he picked the radio up and pushed the call button. "Agent Tom Sawyer here now, Mycroft. What's the situation?"
"Dire," Mycroft replied. "In fact, it would be safe to say that this threat is possible equal in scale to the crisis of Jack the Ripper."
The League looked up at each other at that comment. None of them had been in London when the Ripper had stalked the streets, but they'd heard a lot in the news about his brutal methods, and had no desire to leave something worse than that to roam London.
"Any special requests?" Sawyer asked the radio, praying that Mycroft wouldn't make any...
"Yes," Mycroft replied. "We have reason to believe this foe is remarkably powerful. I would advise you to collect Mr's Frank and Logan before you get here; you may require their assistance."
Sawyer groaned a little as he looked up at the rest of the League. Frank and Logan were nice enough people, but even Mycroft knew that they were strictly classified as 'League reserves'- they were only called in when the situation was extremely dangerous.
This was definitely not going to be an easy mission.
"We'll be there as soon as we can," Sawyer said into the radio. "League out." He pushed the button that terminated the call, and looked up at the rest of the League. "You guys ready to roll?"
"When are we not?" Skinner asked, smiling at the agent. Then his face fell. "Did I really just say that?"
Hartdegen smiled at the invisible man and patted him on the back. "You did, Skinner. Looks like you're really getting used to this 'saving-the-world' business."
Skinner swallowed, looked around himself for a while, and then smiled.
"What the hell?" he said, smiling sheepishly. "Let's go."
"Right," Sawyer said, looking over at Nemo. "Nemo, I know that, whenever I ask you to load up several guns, we rarely ever use them all, but could you possibly do it again, just in case? Oh, and be sure to let your crew know we're needed in London."
"Of course, Agent Sawyer," Nemo replied, as he stood up from his chair. "Mr Skinner, Mr Nator, will you assist me in selecting our weaponry for this mission?"
"Sure thing," Terry replied, getting up and walking after Nemo, who had already left the room and was heading towards the weapons locker, followed closely by Skinner, who had his hands behind his back and was looking at the floor as though trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Sawyer assumed the guy was just embarrassed at letting his mouth get ahead of his brain earlier, and didn't want to say anything any time soon.
Sawyer looked over at Hartdegen. "Alex, head off in your machine and see if you can pick Logan and Frank up; I think we can be sure that Mycroft won't want to be kept waiting."
"No sooner said than done, Tom," Hartdegen replied, as he left the room and headed towards the storage bay where he kept his time machine.
Sawyer turned back to face Mina and Jekyll, the only two League members left apart from him. "You guys, you're with me," he said, as he turned around and walked out of the meeting room, Mina and Jekyll behind him. "Jekyll, we need to make sure you've got enough serum available for when we call in Hyde. Mina, I need you to help me make sure the car's at full power, in case we need it." He looked at his friend and his lover, and patted them on the shoulders. "Let's go."
(AN: For Nemo's car, I'm assuming that Nemo has harnessed the power of electricity to make his car move, given that it was stated in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea that Nemo has harnessed the elements present in the sea to produce electricity to power the Nautilus, so I'm guessing he uses a similar principal for his car.)
In a vast forest, with no sign of human habitation anywhere near it, a lone man stood, facing a single tree.
The figure in question was clad in only a pair of tattered trousers and a dirt-coloured shirt, with the shirt's sleeves rolled up. His hands were clenched shut, and he had six long claws made of bone jutting from his knuckles, three to each hand. His eyes were shut, but his ears twitched a little as he listened to every sound around him.
Then, as though on a signal of some kind, he turned around, leapt onto the tree, and began to scramble up it at a remarkable speed, as though he was a squirrel or some other tree-dealing animal. Thanks to his bone claws and his sharp toenails, he was soon several feet above the ground, and feeling fit enough to go all the rest of the way.
"Everything going well?" a voice said from behind him. Surprised, Logan looked behind him, down towards the ground, and saw a large brass machine with a man standing beside it. Although he couldn't quite make out the man's face, he recognized the machine beside him easily enough.
"Hartdegen?" he said, smiling a little as he slid down the tree. "What's with this surprise visit? I thought you said you'd call me when you wanted me?"
"Well, that was the plan, but I forget to mention I could also track you down if I wanted," Hartdegen replied. "The radios I gave you and Frank have small tracking devices in them, programmed to provide a signal for my machine to target. It's only accurate up to a certain range, but it does its job." He shrugged. "Besides, based on what I know of you, you're more likely to be alone. Frank? Well, from what I've heard, he's been trying to blend into humanity a bit more lately. I figured I'd just pick you up and then try and track him down." He turned back to the machine, and then glanced behind him at Logan. "Are you coming?"
Logan nodded. "Sure thing," he said. "Just let me grab my shoes and jacket, and I'll be right with you."