(Three)

Howls of rage were echoing off of the walls and Jael just sat there smiling. He was in his large throne room, seated comfortably. He had been busy these past weeks assembling all of the Angels he had collected from Sheba's Siskans and two things had come out of that time well spent – a suit of special armor and the gun that stood on a stand before him, waiting for use.

This gun was a welcome surprise. He hadn't immediately known its purpose, but once he had tested it out on poor little Grog, well, he had been quite happy indeed.

The gun on its shiny new stand stood at about chest height, a long silver beauty. It had rings and tiny gizmos all over it, making it look as intimidating and just as cruel as it actually was. It was aimed at an examining table where a furious and noisy Victor Creed, the infamous Sabretooth, lay strapped down and helpless - the source of all that noise.

Once located in Afghanistan, it hadn't taken long for some of Jael's minions to pick him up. The mighty Sabretooth wasn't his former ferocious self, SHIELD had seen fit to run him through another brainwipe and it had left him somewhat diminished. He had been controlled with a special collar as SHIELD worked him, a collar that kept him from killing his handlers, but not from using his powerful senses to hunt down the terrorists they were looking for. The brainwipe had been wearing off slowly over the years, that was clear from the drugs Jael's men had also found floating around in his system when they picked him up. They were powerful anti-psychotics in doses that would kill any ordinary man...but Sabretooth was anything but normal.

"Let me go, ya fuck!" Sabretooth was howling, showing his long wicked fangs. Shakra had shot him full of poison to limit his struggle, but not enough for him to lose consciousness. Jael wanted him awake, all the better to feel every bit of the party he had planned. Sabretooth was three hundred pounds of raw animal power strapped to a table and all but helpless, his brown talons gleaming just out of reach of his bonds. He was trapped and frustrated, Jael couldn't have been more pleased.

"You didn't think I'd let you get away from me forever, did you?" Jael sneered at him, getting this started. "I never forget and I always repay."

"Then let me go an' let's fight it out like men, not this fucked up pussy crap ya got goin' here!" Creed shouted, trying to get a rise out of his tormentor. The truth be told, enough of the brainwipe still remained that he had no real clue who Jael was. That's not to say he wasn't pissed off at the shabby treatment, Sabretooth was at times more animal than man and no amount of brainwiping was going to remove his violent, hair trigger temper. He wanted this man's blood now regardless what had transpired between them in the past.

Jael just grinned, oblivious and uncaring about what Victor remembered or not. "Sorry, pet. I've got much more pressing matters to attend to. I just wanted you to see what I've got planned for this world. Pity you didn't think to stay on my side. You'll be the second to discover what happens to those who displease me."

"An' the first?"

Jael grinned, thinking of the look of startled betrayal on poor Grog's face when he had been finished with. Grog hadn't displeased him, not really. He had just been a convenient target, a delightful guinea pig for this grand experiment. "Dead an' dumped on the street like the trash he was."

"Poor fucker. Too bad yer little trick ain't gonna work on me! I can't be killed! Better men than you have tried an failed!" Creed challenged with another roar. He was making a lot of arrogant noise, doing his best to hide his fear. He was one of the most powerful mutants that had ever walked the Earth. His healing factor was second to none and his tolerance for pain extraordinary. He was over a hundred years old and during that time he had been beaten, whipped, burned and exploded and yet still lived to tell the tale. Not that he remembered all of that, but still. He didn't think Jael could actually kill him, but whatever the guy had planned probably wasn't going to be fun, that was sure.

Jael just laughed, his calm only adding to Victor's unease. "How lovely. You can send them my regards."

The Dognan man flicked his wrist and Razel moved the cannon into position. On either side stood a tiny white pilot, their bio-produced Ristle energy would be used to power the cannon. They lay their white slender hands on the power receptors and charged the weapon. Immediately the air in the room became warm and tingly, filled with a kind of static.

Jael had assembled a small crowd of his most faithful for this little show. Razel was here with Shakra and Marcus. Others sat on furs with small tables in front of them. Jael had so thoughtfully thought to provide refreshments for this exhibition of his power.

Victor was flooded with a sudden panic and he strained at his bonds once more, screaming with fury. His screams only increased in pitch as he was blasted with a bright white light energy beam from the cannon. It didn't really hurt, but his whole body thrummed with a terrible magic that was draining away his strength. Oddly, his mind was becoming clearer, the feral rage that had plagued him for years was melting away, leaving him painfully aware and lucid on the examining table.

He realized to his horror what had just happened. This cannon was the world's largest restraining collar. It had stripped away his feral rage and bestial urges, clearing his mind instantly. It was also wearing down the last of the SHIELD brain wipe, leaving him feeling naked and raw. With that purging came some thing else - it was also depleting his healing factor, leaving him defenseless...well almost. He still had his fangs and claws and would be sure to use them at the earliest opportunity.

The gun was shut off and Jael rose from his throne, coming closer to the table to check out the results of the firing. If it was anything like how it went with Grog, Sabretooth should be weak as a kitten and no threat to him. He stood next to his prey and raised his hand, showing Victor a small shiny knife. With one quick stroke, he slashed Creed across the chest, smiling with satisfaction when the wound remained open and bleeding.

Sabretooth thrashed on the table, startled at how much that had hurt. With his healing factor, most cuts stung rather than actually hurt, they simply closed up too quickly. Not so now. The cut had been fairly deep and he clamped his teeth down on a scream, not wanting to give Jael the satisfaction.

Jael looked down on him, his eyes half lidded with pleasure. One hand toyed with the blood welling up from the cut, he was swirling the blood in a star shaped, white depression in the center of Victor's chest. "I see another scar here. One that hasn't healed. Where did you get that I wonder?"

Sabretooth squirmed, pulling on his bonds, but didn't answer. The scar on his chest was large and white now from the passage of time. Years ago, Zander had attacked him as a Channeler, skewering him with his plasma charged blade, the very one Zander had been pestering Kimble to think about using again just recently. The damage to Creed had been horrible, he had been almost cut in half. He nearly died, but not quite. He had survived even that, but a large star shaped scar remained where the sword had first passed through him. He never minded it much. The brainwipe from SHIELD could remove most things, but one item still remained. He would always remember those pale blue eyes that had once looked on him with such love. Kimble, The Lover, had once whispered to him a name, Kristalay. It was his now and remained with him always. That and the scar to remind him how he had once been loved so completely.

"No matter," Jael said, not the least bit offended at being ignored. "I'll leave a scar of my own."

Jael's intentions were far more sinister than merely tormenting a man who had previously betrayed him. Days earlier, Jael had toured the inside of his new Command ship that Sheba's minions had delivered to him in exchange for their swift and unhindered escape. The vessel, named the Cloud Jumper, had been quite impressive. It was a vehicle for war and was well maintained and stocked with many powerful weapons. As he looked it over, the beginnings of a plan began to germinate in his mind. One that would begin with the man now stretched out before him.

He reached beside him to a small table and lifted a large pair of pliers. Razel left his position behind the cannon and now moved to Sabretooth's head, holding him in position for whatever Jael had in mind. Creed's thrashing increased, his eyes wide with real panic now, but he was in no position to put up a real fight. Jael laughed at his victim's plight and leaned in closer, bringing the pliers to Creed's mouth.

"Just sit still, pet. This will hurt - a lot."

(break)

Logan was dozing quietly in a chair when the emergency alarms went off. He was back at Westchester and at the Xavier Mansion at the moment, keeping an eye on things while Karen and Maylee were finishing up some work here. Karen and Maylee rotated back and forth between the two complexes as new refugees were showing up here at the Mansion looking for shelter against an ever increasing hostile world. As they gathered new folks, Fallen would come and bring them to Arizona for further processing and integration. Some of them needed medical attention first which was why Karen and Maylee were here.

Logan had come with them today, wanting to gather up some stuff to bring back to Arizona, his motorcycle in particular. It was the last thing he had needed to bring back with him and now while the girls were busy, he had taken the time for a quick nap. He wasn't completely off guard - he had grown comfortable with the extra security in Arizona and was always more nervous when back here. Whenever he was back here just hanging out and waiting on Karen, he spent most of his time in the old War Room in front of the Mansion's security cameras. The chair here was a bit too comfortable and he'd nodded off for just a minute when the alarms brought his nap to a crashing halt.

Logan jerked upright in his seat, blinking at the cameras in confusion. He had no idea what could have set the alarms off. The video monitors for the front lawn were on and he could clearly see a helicopter materialize there out of nowhere and hover over the front lawn, waiting. He found his feet quickly and took off for the elevator, cursing with impatience. It would be a full three minutes before he was able to get out of the house to greet the new visitors and he wasn't even sure they would still be there.

They were. The helicopter still hovered expectantly over the front lawn, calmly waiting for someone to come up close.

Logan dashed out of the house, his hands reaching for and finding twin pistols he had brought with him. He had never been a big fan of guns, but there was less security here and he was a cautious man. When armed, he chose well. Heavy caliber automatic pistols, Desert Eagles, they were. Weapons with enough kickback that not everyone could even handle them like this, but he was no ordinary man. He had years of military and covert training to fall back on. In this case, he thought he had figured just about right with his use of guns, his claws wouldn't be a reliable weapon from this distance. He would never be able to leap up there.

They saw him come, but didn't retreat. "A gift from Jael!" someone shouted from within the craft. He and another man kicked out a large bundle wrapped in a grey canvas tarp. They laughed and the helicopter rose slightly before winking out as if it never had been. Wolverine realized that they must have teleported in and teleported out. Of course it was Jael, who else would have had the means? What he didn't understand was, why had they come. Logan ran over to what had been dropped and slowed when he smelled the blood. He approached cautiously and then growled when he recognized the scent. He slowly opened the tarp.

"Fuck me..." he whispered, stunned.

His half brother, Sabretooth, lay wrapped up inside, his naked body smeared with blood and covered with injuries that didn't seem to be healing. All of his large canine teeth had been torn from his mouth and his claws ripped from his fingers. He had been horribly beaten and savagely cut. At first, Logan wasn't sure if he was even still alive, but his sensitive hearing caught the faintest raspy wheeze as the ruined flesh in front of him took a ragged breath. Last Logan had known, Creed had been brought to a SHIELD facility for execution seven years ago and then subsequently disappeared. He hadn't been seen or heard from since. Clearly he had run across Jael and gotten more than even his healing factor could cope with.

As if the brutalizing of his body was bad enough, a note had been attached to his chest, pinned through the skin there with a long thick rod the size of a knitting needle. The note had been carefully enclosed in clear plastic so it wouldn't be ruined by the blood of its carrier. It could be clearly read - Turn whatever Siskans you have over to me or pay the price. It was signed by Jael and had some instructions on how he could be contacted for delivery.

Wolverine cursed under his breath. He left the note for later, he would leave it as it was and let Henry deal with its removal. Instead he felt for a pulse and was surprised when he actually found a fairly strong one. He clicked on the small radio he always wore now. "Hey, May! You around!"

"Here, Mr. Logan!" came Maylee's crackley reply from one of the lower levels of the Mansion. "What do you need?"

"We got a medical emergency. Somebody beat up Sabretooth and dumped him on the lawn. I'm gonna bring him down now. I'm lookin' at severe trauma an' bleedin'. His healin' factor ain't workin'. We gotta get this guy stable an' ship 'im out ta Arizona as soon as possible. We're gonna need Henry for this."

"I'll send up Max to help you and call for Fallen. She can be here in twenty minutes," Maylee replied, her trembling voice betraying her excitement. She was still in training and hadn't handled too many real traumas by herself. At least Max was here. Wherever she was, Max was sure to be as well. He had tagged along with Logan today and Wolverine was grateful to have him.

"All right. I'll be right down," Logan said and clicked off.

Logan gave the tarp a mighty yank and started dragging Creed towards the house, his arch enemy was much too heavy for him to carry. He was met by Max and they lugged him down to what was left of the medical bay. May was shocked when she saw Creed's horrific condition but was too well trained to let it stop her. She went to work immediately, her nervousness no longer showing. Her half Dognan heritage labeled her as a mutant on this world and kept her out of formal schooling, but Henry had showed her many things and now that it had come down to it, all of that schooling was paying off. She was all business as she worked, getting Creed cleaned up and pumped up with fluids, preparing him for transport.

Creed groaned and called out for Kimble softly before passing out again.