A dull roar split the air as the Blackbird shot toward the afternoon sun. Without shifting his gaze from the controls, Scott spoke over his shoulder.
"Professor, you said we'd get a brief once we were in the air. Can we hear it, now?"
Charles nodded, the gesture unseen by Scott but taken in by everyone else as they turned to look at him. "At the beginning of Jean and Duncan's dinner last night, Duncan used an experimental drug of some kind on Jean. A result of Jean's carelessness over a period of time meant that Duncan was aware of her mutant status, and the drug, donated by his father, was an attempt to capture Jean alive. It succeeded."
Kurt was seething in his seat. Having had experience with the Friends Of Humanity before, he knew full well how they usually operated, and the fact that Jean had been taken alive was the embodiment of his worst fear, taken out on a friend. "She's a test subject, isn't she?" he asked coldly. Charles' eyes flooded with sympathy for an instant.
"Yes. Jean was seen as… extremely valuable as a test subject – a functioning mutant of reasonable power, in good physical health – and Duncan's instructions were to deliver her with the minimum possible amount of physical harm. The drug somehow deactivated Jean's powers; at which point she was no match for Duncan's physical strength. He personally delivered her, unconscious, to the facility we are headed towards."
Ororo nodded. "And where is that?" she asked. "All you said was 'go west'."
"160 miles, more or less, due west of our current location. At our current speed, we should arrive in about 30 minutes."
Hank raised an eyebrow. "That's a rather extreme distance to take her," he commented.
Logan shook his head. "Checked the motel register after we picked up Matthews," he explained. "He dropped Jeannie, took her to his facility, came back to Bayville, and booked into the motel at six this morning. He had plenty of time."
Jubilee looked puzzled. "Why would they take her so far away?" she wanted to know.
It was Ray who answered her. "'Cause she might not have been alone here, an' if she weren't, they don't want her friends to show up and bust her out. That'd fuck their plans right up."
For once, none of the teachers reprimanded him on his language, and in the silence that followed, Logan could be heard to crack his knuckles loudly.


The door to Jean's cell swung open and Phillip Matthews entered, flanked by another two technicians and a trio of guards. Once again, while the other five wore starched white coats and military uniforms respectively, Phillip was dressed casually, marking him as different to the others. However, this seemingly unprofessional appearance did not make him seem less threatening; on the contrary, his differences made him all the more menacing.
These thoughts ran through Jean's head as she watched her captors enter. Once they were inside, she lowered her head and resumed her former position, curled in a ball in one corner. Vivid red welts showed the burns on either side of her head; her lips were swollen and torn from her own teeth as she'd gnawed at them while trying not to sob too loudly; bruises marked her wrists and ankles from her struggles during the tests; and her fear and utter despair seemed to hang in the air around her like some foul miasma.
Phillip took no notice of her state as he stepped over to her and crouched by her head.

"I thought you would like to know, Miss Grey, that the Azmodium is taking full and perfect effect. Your X-Gene has been effectively, if only temporarily, deactivated." He smiled nastily. "Congratulations are in order – you're the first of your species to survive this far into the testing. And although you will certainly not be the last, you can rest assured that you'll lead the race for some time. We have a long way to go with you, Miss Grey."
A soft whimper escaped Jean's throat.
"Now, the question I'm sure you've been asking yourself – what are they going to do with me now?" He chuckled at his own cleverness and continued as though Jean herself had asked the question. "Well, first we wait until the Azmodium has fully left your system. We take observations – under controlled circumstances, of course – of any and all side-effects the virus has left in your system. Then we repeat the process again. After that…" he paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. "After that, we begin the experiments. We've managed to… acquire… some of the technology used by other organizations that perform experimental enhancements on mutants, and we're looking forward to putting it to use. We plan to extend the mutations you're already afflicted with, and test each new development to see if it can resist the effects of Azmodium. The only difficult choice will be what experiments to perform." He looked at Jean with a reflecting look in his eyes. "Tell me, Miss Grey, what would you prefer – pyrokinesis or enhanced strength?"
When no answer was forthcoming, he stood up and sighed. "Very well," he mused. "We can settle for both." He stepped away.

At that moment, a radio on one of the soldier's belts crackled and a metallic voice squawked out, echoing in the room. The soldier – Lieutenant Volden, his nameplate read – snatched up the device and half turned, hissing furiously into the mouthpiece. A few moments later, he turned back.
"Sir?" he ventured. "That was the periphery guards."
Phillip cocked an eyebrow. "And?" he asked.
"We may have a situation."
"What?"
The Lieutenant swallowed. "We seem to be under attack from a rogue military band. They appear to be mutants, sir."
Phillip's face registered stunned shock for an instant before he wheeled and strode out of the door, instructing the others to follow him. Lieutenant Volden paused at the door to look back at their captive, wondering if she'd understood the implications of the radio message he'd relayed in her presence.
From her position on the floor, Jean glowered up at her captor, and a faint light of hope began to glimmer in her sunken, red-rimmed eyes. Lieutenant Volden shuddered involuntarily at the sight before slamming the door behind him and hurrying to catch up with his superior.


The FOH Biological Research Facility was situated in a natural fortress in the hills. Thick growth from the surrounding forest prevented vehicle access from any direction save the main roads, while the facility itself was situated in a depression of the surrounding rise of land in a clearing in the dense woodland. A chain-link fence, composed of razor wire and carrying a voltage of some 10,000 volts surrounded the buildings; at regular intervals were guard houses, with armed soldiers keeping a vigilant watch for any intruders.
Of course, this only applied to average days at this facility, when it was not being attacked.
This day was different. Today, the chain-link wires of the fence glowed red where they'd been severed by Scott's optic blasts, forming a neat circular hole in the barrier which gave off the occasional spark as the powerful voltage contained within the wire shorted out, its contact broken. Through this gap ran two separate groups with two separate objectives.
Scott, Rogue, Ororo and Ray were first through the gap; their task was to enter the main body of the FOH facility and locate Jean as quickly as possible before getting her out. Next came Logan, Kurt and Rahne, whose duty was to shut down the facility's communications tower, some one hundred and fifty meters from the facility itself and protected by almost two dozen of the FOH guards. On board the Blackbird, fifty meters from the barrier of the high-voltage fence, waited Hank, Charles and Jubilee, keeping their transportation safe for the return of the two teams.
As both teams entered the facility grounds, they knew that their presence had been noticed; from the dozen unconscious guards within sight, however, there came no challenges.
Charles had been working well.


Within the walls of the facility, red lights pulsed a silent alarm as booted feet tramped up and down corridors and muted voices barked orders back and forth. Weapons were loaded and cocked; body armour was fitted and checked; positions inside the facility's few weak points were taken up with guns aimed and ready.
Throughout this vigorous preparation strode Phillip Matthews, flanked as always by his three personal guards, as other technicians and scientists took refuge in the bowels of the sub-levels of the facility. Phillip, however, had no intention of hiding as they had.
This is perfect, he silently exulted. We're never going to be more ready than we are now! The capabilities of Azmodium have been tested and proved, these men have received the best training money can buy, and we have a strong position against a small attacking force
He smiled, a hungry humourless smile. Let them come. We're ready for them.
Of course, he chose not to give voice to such feelings, instead settling for a simple order that was relayed to every soldier in the vicinity. "These mutants are not to be killed," he barked to Lieutenant Volden, who in turn repeated the message to his men. "While they're standing and fighting, they're enemies – but once they're down, then they're test subjects and worth their weight in gold. Do not kill them, doyou hear me? I want them alive."