Chapter 7

Ann disassembled her bike. The parts lay about the concrete floor. She shifted around the fiber glass hulls, hollowed out places, and laid vials of poisons, guns, and daggers. She emptied her bag and mounds of ammo ringed as they hit the pavement. She assembled a hand gun, and loaded a clip; she locked, and then moved on to another.

In all she had laid out six different handguns, seven daggers, and six vials of poisons. The door to the garage opened. In came Scott.

"What the hell?" he said seeing the mess.

"Logan gets the bike," she mumbled locking one in place.

"No where did all this come from?"

"Andamantium slugs, they rock, I personally don't carry anything on me that wouldn't kill myself, know why?" She looked up to him.

"Why?"

"Because if it can't kill myself, it can't kill Blade, I'd be getting ready if I were you," She said. "We leave at eight, make the sweep at eleven," she smiled.

"Do you need a uniform?"

"Nope, I got my leather number," she pointed to a pile of black leather. She got up, picked up her weapons and her leather number and headed in.

"What about your bike?"

"Logan can put it back together when you get back," she said and sauntered off to the subbasement.

They were all changed out. Ann quickly changed out of her tank and denim jeans and put on her bodice, it was very much like a corset, she took off the buckles and the straps that went over her shoulders. She took off her bra, and placed the leather over her chest, tightening the laces she pulled them as close as she could still there was room to see her navel, a line of skin and a part. Around her breast, leaving a half decent view, she slipped into her skin tight leather hip huggers. She zipped them up. Now onto the hard part, loading the weapons, she slipped her daggers in the specially designed slits. One on either side of her strapless bodice, one on either side of her thighs, inside and outside. And one on the outside of each of her calves. She looked herself in the mirror. Sliver blades on her body she let lose her long hair, and put it back up with the last dagger designed to look like a hairpin. She put on her holster, and loaded her six hand guns. They hung around her waist. She was almost finished except for her pendant. It brought her luck and protection. It was a Spanish silver cross, on a black ribbon. She closed the clasp; it was choler that hugged her neck. Her eyes swirled to cloudy silver, her hair became black. She examined. She already had a substantial amount of weight on her. She decided to leave behind the poisons, and the straps that she wore most of the time. She sat and put on her boots.

She walked out. Scott looked her over, and blushed, Logan grinned remembering the times she had worn it. It was black, and revealing, smutty, riskay, not to mention distracting. Steel glistened on her body

"We don't carry weapons," Scott hissed.

"Embarrassed?" She grinned.

"You can't wear that," he barked back to her. Ann laughed at him.

"Thank you, looks like it works, Hank you have the coordinates and codes?" she asked him. Her blue furry friend nodded. "Good, let's go then," she led the way into the jet. Seated herself at the pilot's and started the engines.

"You're not piloting," Scott said.

"On the contrary, I am, I've read about this baby, and hell I can't wait to push her," Ann grinned. "If I were you buckle up," with that she pushed on the throttle and sped out of the hanger as fast as the jet could allow. She grinned, about few hundred miles out; she put it on autopilot and turned to face the rest of the team.

"Ann, you given up?" Logan asked her.

"No, I'm giving instructions," she smiled.

"What on?"

"Just listen, when it hits two the alarm will go off, never mind if you have it all, if you hear it you book it, whether you're on time or not, you get back on the jet, and you get the hell outta there as fast as you can, head to Florida, land at these coordinates, reload on fuel rest whatever, then go one your merry little way to Virginia, Cutler will be there waiting for what information you do have, after that, you're almost out of the woods, get home the first thing you do is you erase everything in the memory of this mission on this ship, coordinates, speed, everything, and never speak of it, in anyway, am I understood," she asked. "Oh, and don't fly straight," she added.

"Why,"

"Scott, just listen to me, it's for the greater good, Hank burn the codes," she turned back to the console. "Jean how about cloaking this thing?" she asked, Jean nodded. "Logan, whatever happens, listen to Scott, I'll be fine," she said. She landed in a thickly dense forest spot. Ann killed the engines. She released the ramp. "Rouge, stay here with Jubilee, keep watch, the rest of us, onward," She led them to a hill covered with trees and brush. She looked out on to a fenced off property line with guard towers everywhere, she examined the razor wire fences, the guards, the gates. It looked to be a prison. Getting in would be hard, getting out would be damn near impossible.

Scott and the X-men gathered around and went over the plans one last time. Ann was ready to cry. Instead she shook the thoughts from her head, and took a dagger from her bodice. She held the knife in her hands. Scott was busy giving them orders to everyone, Logan growling his disproval. Ann frowned; this wasn't going to be easy, for a place bent on keeping its occupants in, it sure was heavily guarded to keep anyone out. She looked out to guard towers. Hmm, it most definitely wasn't going to be easy.

"Ann, you go with Storm," Scott turned to her.

"Sorry Cyke, not tonight, got other plans," she turned to face him. "Logan, stay clear of Blade's claws, same goes for everyone, you get hit, that's it there is no antidote," she turned ready to leave the trees.

"Red," Logan held her arm.

"What?" he pulled her close.

"I'm not letting you go alone," he said. Ann kissed him lovingly. Pulling away she looked to the razor wire fence.

"Logan all I'm going to ask of you is this, don't stop for me, what I'm going to do will only last a short while but it should get you all in, Scott you get them in the minute I fall," She touched Logan's face kissed his cheek and said "I'll be back, when things change," she smiled, then turned to leave. Logan looked after her. She crept down the hill silently shoving the knife down her black leather bodice. She came into view of the light.

The men on guard duty came down to see who she was.

"What are you doing here?" one of them asked pointing a gun at her. She tilted her head.

"I'm lost," she answered. They scoffed at her.

"Lost, baby? Maybe we can help," they approached her.

Logan watched as one stepped forward, he never saw her blade only saw the one closest to her fall dead in a torrent of blood, the other one's gun went off and she fell to her knees, then on her face her own blood pooling in the dirt. Logan wanted to cry out, to run to her side. Jean pulled him back; this wasn't what he had planned on.

"Logan, no, we need to keep going, she did it for us, for you now let's go!" she hissed. Logan didn't move. "That's an order," Logan turned and moved with the rest of the team, on into the fence, into the night.

Ann woke up in a cloud of blackness, good they'd left her here. She stood got her bearings. Looking to her watch, half past two, if they were still in there, they were out of time. She walked around the fence looking for a power box, finding not one she broke inside and found it near a guard house. She released her claws opened the steel door and surveyed the wires. Green apparently was the security code. Knowing Scott they wouldn't be able to disable the whole system completely especially in this place, she rerouted the wires. Sirens went off, the loud wail sent guards everywhere. Ann cringed in pain, a bullet hit her, and she traced her steps up to a hill and out of site.

She watched, they were fleeing and heading back to the blackbird. Good, they were all safe. Ann fell against a tree. A tear or two fell from her eyes. They were gone. She heard the jet over head; it passed her and disappeared into the dark morning. The last she saw of them were two blue afterburners.

Logan slammed his fists down on the walls, he didn't try to hide his tears; he didn't try to hide anything. He pressed himself against the wall and cried. Everyone was stunned, silent and in shock. Only Remy dared to speak.

"Mon ami," he said. Logan just cried. "She loved you, she tole me once, she said dat dere was no one she'd radder be wit dan you, she loved you, dat all dat maddered. She loved you," Gambit tried to comfort him. Logan regained himself. He looked to the Cajun.

"You don't know, no one knows, you'll never know," he said hard and cold. She was dead, gone, and never to be seen again.