xXx
Remy felt pain. Not the throbbing sting in the back of his head, or the ache of his swollen cheek. Those were inconsequential. No, this was a new pain, sharp and insistent. It pulled at his wrists and radiated down through the muscles of his arms.
Remy looked up. He hung from a chain that looped under his handcuffs, suspending him by his wrists. His feet dangled several feet off the floor.
He appeared to be in a storage area. The center of the room had been cleared away; the boxes, crates and miscellaneous equipment had all been stacked along the walls and in the corners to ensure that Remy could gain no foothold.
He smiled. No problem.
A key turned in the locked door. His body went limp. He allowed his head to loll across his chest, but he listened intently.
The door squealed as it opened. Heavy boots clunked across the concrete slab floor. A burst of static, then the guard said, "Check. The prisoner is secure." The voice was very close. "I'm going to continue my patrol, over." The radio clicked off and Remy heard the boots twist in an about face. His eyes snapped open. The guard stood immediately before him, headed for the door.
Remy's muscles tensed and flexed. He whipped his legs up and wrapped them around the guard's neck. Startled, the man grabbed futilely at Remy's legs, now locked tight in a chokehold. Remy squeezed; the guard's hands went limp.
Remy let the guard slump to the floor, unconscious. Then he swung his legs forward, swaying. He whipped them back, building his momentum. His wrists screamed at the abuse, but Remy pulled hard on the chain and swung his legs up to rest on the girder above. Remy sighed with the release of pressure on his throbbing wrists. He rested a moment, dangling by his legs from the beam. Blood rushed to his head, fueling his already surly headache.
Remy pinched one link of the chain that had suspended him. He felt the energy lying patiently in the metal, just waiting for him to release it.
He did. The link burst apart in a violent flash of light.
Remy let his legs slip free of the girder. He tucked into a tight roll and landed lightly on his feet. He quickly found the manacle keys on the guards belt. Moments later he was free and out the door.
xXx
"How are we doing?" Geraint asked. He stared out past the lab technicians where they sat at their consoles. The control room was separated from the containment chamber by a thick pane of protective glass.
The containment chamber featured a coffin-like cylinder that was wired to the instrumentation that the technicians monitored. Sitting motionless atop the cylinder was Braddock, lost in meditation.
The technician checked readings before replying. "We were late starting." The tech frowned at his screen. "Seems to be a lot of traffic on the system, so we decided to reboot the instruments so we could get a good picture of both brains as she cracks him."
Geraint nodded. "What about Logan? How is he holding up in there?"
The tech turned from his diagnostic routines and pulled up another display. "The subject is putting up an impressive amount of resistance, sir. She hasn't been able to make much headway yet."
Geraint sighed. "Ms. Braddock's increased powers may be impressive, but Logan may be one tough nut to crack. This should be a good test for her."
Geraint watched with curiosity as Logan bucked and writhed in his confinement. Sweat rolled down Braddock's face.
Geraint smiled. "Take my advice, Logan," he muttered under his breath. "Let Ms. Braddock break you. If she can't crack you, the Boss will take care of your conditioning personally. You may be able to block her, but not even you will be able to resist him." A small shiver prickled involuntarily down his back.
xXx
Logan clenched his eyes shut tighter than his fists, focusing. He knew he would be dead if the rage that roared and tore at him was real. He focused, centering as best he could, not fighting. Not allowing himself to be hurt. Ignoring the monster.
But the pain was real, and he felt the ripping blows tearing him to shreds. Yet he did not die. And he focused hard, digging, trying to find something real in the assault.
A shadow flickered in the echo of his rage.
Logan wasted no time. In an instant he was atop the beast, his hands plunged into its chest. He growled in fury at the thing beneath him. He could feel the windpipe and cartilage of the shadow that hid in the rage as it bent inward under his grip. He twisted, and something snapped.
"Lo—gan—" Logan froze. He knew that voice, even choked as it was. Lisa. Beneath his crushing grip, the blonde girl stared at him in wide-eyed terror as the monstrous illusion that had hidden her fell away. Immediately he released her and stumbled back. Large black and purple marks marred her crooked neck.
"Lisa," he gasped. "I… I didn't know…"
She stared at him. Her throat worked, but it was too broken to breathe or speak. She stood before him, drowning, her eyes resonant with horror as she clutched at her broken neck.
Logan trembled in shock.
Her throat twisted again, popped loudly. Horns sprouted from her forehead, her legs twisted into recurves goat legs, and she hissed as her eyes flared red. Lifting a sword, she gurgled gleefully.
"Nope," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning. "Not goin for it. You startled me but good. An that's as far as this'll get ya. That you, Betsy?"
Lisa shimmered and fell away. Braddock stood, calm, watching him.
"It's only a matter of time," she said. "They want to know everything you do. If you don't surrender to me, then it's the chemicals. And then it gets unpleasant." Her low, thrilling voice had the charming clip of an aristocratic British accent, belying the ugliness of her words.
"The tricks are just to soften me up, right?" he asked. She nodded. He sighed. "Cut to the chase. Here we are, just the two of us. Come on. I won't resist. Hit me with your best shot. Let's see if you can open me up for everybody to have a look." He stood, impassive, arms crossed over his chest.
She hesitated, wary.
"I got no secrets worth this ta keep," he clarified. "You just stick your brain in mine. An when yer done, let me walk outta here. And we'll see about round two."
She nodded, her eyes slightly curious. A long rippling dagger of mental energy coalesced about her fist. She sank the dagger into Logan's skull. Mental energy seared through him. It raged through every corner of his mind. Pain flared through every synapse of his overloaded brain.
They both screamed.
Nothing turned to something.
xXx
"What the devil is happening?" Geraint demanded. Braddock's scream still echoed in his ears.
The technicians scrambled to interpret the readouts that redlined across their monitors.
"I'm not sure, sir," the senior tech managed. "Seems like some kind of psionic mine!"
"Pull her out!" Geraint demanded. He stared, riveted, as Braddock shuddered and went rigid. Her muscles writhed beneath her skin, spasming out of control.
"She could die!" the tech blurted. He worked feverishly at the console, adjusting her intravenous feed.
"I said get her out!" Geraint shouted. "Now!"
"Somebody seem too tense," drawled an accented voice from behind him.
Geraint whirled about.
Remy hung from a gap in the ceiling, a playing card in his hand.
"Security! Get him!" Geraint bellowed.
"I don tink I'll let you capture me dis time," Remy said.
He flicked the card. It blazed to life and left a searing arc of light across Geraint's vision. The card slammed into the array of consoles and unleashed its pent-up energy in a spectacular explosion. Shattered plastic and steel erupted through the room.
Geraint dove for cover beneath a table as debris pelted his back. Technicians scrambled to get free of the burning remains of the equipment.
Remy flipped to the ground, another card at the ready. He took quick measure of the room. Two large hallways led off from the control room.
Alerted by the explosion, security troops began to stream down each of the long corridors towards Remy. Bullets whizzed through the air, dangerously close to his head.
"Dese guys don waste no time." Remy muttered. He quickly converted the card and flicked it towards the control panel of the one entryway. It struck with explosive fury. Alarms erupted and blast shielding snapped across the opening, sealing out the approaching troops.
"Now for your friends." Remy whirled on the guards advancing down the opposite corridor.
In time to catch a bullet in his thigh.
Remy's leg buckled. He winced in pain and dropped the card he had palmed. He grabbed at his throbbing leg and tried to stifle the blood flow with his hand. When he looked up, the guards had reached him.
Remy laughed nervously. "I tink dere has been a small misunderstanding, monsieurs." He looked up at dark barrels aimed very carefully at his head.
Glass shattered. Logan burst through the window to the containment chamber. His face was contorted in a frenzied rage. He was a force of nature as he tore into the guards. Braddock leaped through the window behind him. Her body moved in an elaborate dance of death. Her feet splintered bone and her fists ruptured organs. Her smile was almost more terrifying than Logan's feral snarl. Remy thrust out his good leg to trip an unwary guard, then swiftly realized that if he did not move he would soon be in the direct path of the twin berserkers. Remy decided to move.
As he slid beneath an out-of-the-way table, a barrel pressed hard into his temple.
"We meet again, Mr. LeBeau." Geraint smiled. He cocked the hammer. His finger tensed on the trigger.
A look of shock froze on Geraint's face as a tip of purplish energy pulsed through his skull and protruded from his forehead. He dropped the gun and went limp. Braddock released him, letting him slump to the floor. She allowed the psionic dagger to dissipate. Her eyes found Remy's and held them.
"Nice work, ninja lady." Remy said. He wiped sweat off his brow. "You're not planning on hitting me again are you?"
Braddock's eyes searched his face. "You don't recognize me." She sighed. Her head dropped. "I don't blame you. Look at what I've become." She stared at her hands as if they belonged to someone else. "It's me, Remy. Elizabeth Braddock."
Remy stared at her. "You don' look like de Braddock I know."
"It's her." Logan stepped up behind Braddock, having run out of opponents. Blood coated his arms, his chest. The many wounds that crisscrossed his body slowly began to seal. "It's Betsy."
"How can you be sure, mon ami?" Remy kept his eyes warily on the Asian woman who claimed to be a British born lady.
Logan tapped his nose. "Always believe the nose."
Remy didn't move.
Logan sighed. "Look. You don't have to believe it, but we gotta get out of here."
Remy finally tore his eyes away from Braddock and eyed Logan carefully. Logan stared steadily back. Remy nodded, rising to his feet.
Logan glanced at the blood flowing between Remy's fingers where they pressed against the bullet wound in his leg. "You gonna be okay?"
Remy slowly got to his feet, favoring his right leg. He pulled a strip of cloth from a pouch at his belt and bound the wound tightly. He flexed his leg experimentally. "Don worry bout me. Dis little ting won't be enough to slow me down."
Logan nodded. "How do we get outta here, Bets?"
"Follow me." Braddock ran down the now empty corridor, Logan at her heels, and Remy limping behind.
The trio reached the entrance to the large main chamber and halted.
Dark shapes separated from shadow and crept about the perimeter of the room. Swords scraped across their sheaths as they were drawn. The ninja converged on the three escapees, flanking them on three sides.
Remy and Betsy shuffled back a couple steps into the mouth of the corridor. Logan squatted down before them, lowering his center of gravity. His claws snapped out, ready.
"Come get me," he snarled.
"I think this has gone far enough," a deep, smooth voice resonated. A man stepped out on the gantry above the open floor of the chamber. He was tall, distinguished in his dark suit. His shocking white hair belied his vitality. He smiled faintly at the battered refugees.
"I've not been formally introduced. You may call me Magnus." He tilted his head towards them. "Come quietly. Now." He shrugged. "Or you will find a more painful path to submission."
The ninja tightened in a half-circle around their opponents. The metal walls of the corridor twisted shut behind the fugitives, trapping them. Both sides faced off warily, waiting for the first strike to be thrown.
"Logan," Braddock whispered to the tense bundle of muscle and metal at her side. "Cut a path to the platform and I'll handle Magnus."
Logan yelped as he lifted off the ground several feet, awkwardly drifting. Magnus smiled, then nodded. "Disarm them. Take Braddock alive."
The northern wall erupted in a searing ball of flame. Chunks of concrete blasted through the startled ninja, scattering them across the room. The whole structure shook violently with the force of the explosion. Fire and thick black smoke billowed through the room. Magnus focused on deflecting the shrapnel that whistled at him from the broken wall.
Logan dropped to the floor and sprinted for the gap along with the others. A slim figure dropped from the rafters, swinging towards the new hole on a grapple line.
"Get your sorry hides out of there!" A huge man stepped up to the lip of the rubble strewn hole. His arms wrapped around a huge silver assault rifle. He let off a burst into the front ranks of the scattered ninja.
"Thanks for the assist, boss!" The slim man ducked low to avoid the field of fire as he scrambled up the pile of rubble towards his partner. He turned and gestured for the others to follow. "Looks like you'd best come with us for the moment," he shouted over the suppressing fire of the huge gun. He dodged past the bigger man and headed out across the field towards the distant woods.
The others quickly dodged past the heavily armed man and followed Forge.
Cable sprayed the rest of his clip into the black clad shapes. He swiftly pumped the grip on the barrel of the rifle and fired.
Foomp.
The grenade detonated in a brilliant explosion. The loud groan of metal and cracking concrete filled the air as the roof high above began to collapse under its own weight. Ninja fled, all thoughts of battle gone.
Cable smiled grimly to himself. He shouldered the rifle and ran to catch up with the others. Behind him, the roof shuddered once more and finally collapsed to the ground with a deafening roar and a vast cloud of dust.
xXx
The refugees jogged or hobbled through the light woods as the alarms wailed too close behind them. They veered over to the shelter of a dense thicket of young trees.
"Watch for roadblocks," the slim man said to Logan. "Keep to the woods for at least ten miles. Good luck finding your way out. I'd invite you to hitch a ride on our chopper, but the policy is no riders," he said with a wide smile on his narrow features.
"Who the hell are you people?" Logan growled, unsettled.
"Is there a problem here?" The man with the huge assault rifle walked up behind Logan.
"No, no problem." Forge said. "I was just introducing myself to our fellow escapees. You can call me Forge." He extended his hand towards Logan. Logan stared at him.
"Doesn't matter who we are," Cable said gruffly. "You never saw us, right?"
"Right," Logan nodded. "Right. Thanks for the rescue," he added, unsure.
"Tell me, monsieurs," Remy interrupted, eyeing the silvered rifle. "Who exactly are you working for?"
"Good luck with the rest of your escape," Cable said sharply. He pushed at Forge, and the two men turned and jogged on into the forest. Forge glanced back once, then they were gone.
"Okay," Logan grunted. "They got the right idea."
Moments later, the copse of trees was deserted.
xXx
Geraint rubbed his throbbing temples with both hands before stepping into the office. Once through the door, he stood at attention. He worked very hard to ignore the aftermath of Braddock's attack on his scrambled brain.
"Sir, there have been some… complications."
"Yes. I know," the man behind the chair murmured. The office's windowed wall was thick with dust. Thin crack lines were apparent on a couple of the panes.
Geraint waited for the verdict to fall.
"All goes according to plan," the soothing voice said.
Geraint blinked, startled. "But, sir," he stammered. "We lost not only both prisoners, but also Ms. Braddock, our most recent prototype."
"Your grasp of current events is accurate, if incomplete," the man agreed. "Besides," he murmured. "Why do you think we lost Ms. Braddock? She is exactly where she needs to be. She will be quite useful amongst her current companions."
The man beckoned for Geraint to move closer. "Come. It is time we had a chat with Magnus. He might misinterpret what happened tonight."
"Yes, sir." Geraint walked around the large desk and stepped up behind the high backed chair. He snapped paired handles into place along the back. He gently turned the wheelchair about and steered for the door.
The man in the chair rearranged the dark blanket draped across his useless legs and ran one hand across his bare scalp.
"Soon, Geraint." He rubbed his hands together as the other man guided the chair down the hall. "Soon Magnus's funding will get him what he wants and us what we want. When all the pieces fall into place, P.S.I. will be firmly in control of its own destiny." The man's smile was sharp and cruel.
"We all eagerly await that day, Dr. Xavier." Geraint replied.
Moments later they entered the den. Magnus stood waiting. Wisps of smoke still rose from his charred suit. He shrugged the tatters of his coat off his bulky shoulders and brushed futilely at the concrete dust that clung tenaciously to his shirt.
"We need to talk, Charles." His face was a thundercloud.
"Of course, old friend," Xavier nodded calmly. "We remain on schedule."
Magnus pinned the man in the chair with his steely gaze. "You anticipated this outcome?"
Xavier's smile did not reach his eyes. "Of course. Trust me, Magnus. The situation is under control. Consider this a field test of our new technologies."
"It would have been appropriate for you to appraise me of your plan," Magnus growled. Flecks of dust continued to sift out of his white hair. "Be wary, Charles. I've known you for a long time, and have learned to allow you your secrets. The other members of the Inner Council may not be as forgiving as I am."
"Don't worry about that, my friend." Xavier's cold smile returned. "I know just how to handle them."
xXx
Braddock sat atop the sloped roof of the motel, staring listlessly into the night sky. Her taut, well honed muscles trembled with the release of tension after the night's events. The night air beckoned her.
"Got somethin' on yer mind, Bets?" Logan moved up silently behind her.
She remained silent for a while. She watched the night sky, watched the moon slide along its arc, its silvery eye ever vigilant.
"How did you know, Logan?" she whispered.
"Know what?" He knelt at her side.
"How did you know you had a psionic mine?" She turned from the stars to look at him.
Logan shrugged. "I didn't. It was a calculated risk. I figured that mess the Project made a my skull ought to be enough to throw anyone for a loop."
Braddock dropped her head. She stared at her hands clasped in her lap. They looked to her like the hands of a stranger. "I don't know who I am anymore. They've completely destroyed who I was, Logan. The old Elizabeth Braddock is gone, and instead they've replaced her with a deadly killing machine. How am I supposed to know who I am?"
Logan watched her for a moment before he replied. "What you see ain't always what you get, Bets." He looked down at the three small scars on the backs of both his hands. "Lisa taught me that. You'll have to learn it for yourself."
Logan moved to stand up, but stopped as Braddock placed a cool hand on his arm.
"How do you know you can trust me, Logan?" Her eyes pleaded with him for answers.
Logan held her gaze, unflinching. "Trust ain't about what you know, Bets, but what you feel." He gently removed her hand from his arm and turned away. "The one thing I've learned running from the Project all these years is to trust my instinct." He looked at her over his shoulder. "It tells me you're okay, and I'll stick to that 'till it tells me otherwise."
He left, and she listened to his footsteps recede down the side of the roof.
"How do I know if I can trust myself?" she whispered to the wind.
