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Chapter One
Alcatraz rose as a hulking mass of stone and steel upon a rock in the middle of San Fransico Bay. Its nickname was apt.
Remy LeBeau stood on a cliff in a remote part of the beach, looking out upon the infamous prison. The place where they planned to put a good deal of his bretheren. The place where the young revolutionary Allerdyce was housed -- or rather, kept.
And Remy had taken it upon himself to spring him out. Not just as a favour to his race, but moreso because of what could be in it for him. He was a thief by trade, and always after something to further himself.
The water stretched out before him, deep crystal blue, darking with the sky. The sun bled a trail of bloody red across the ocean as it disappeared at the horizon. Water wasn't Remy's favourite thing, but he knew how to swim. There was a dock facing him, a quay right near beside him on the beach. And a ship loading up.
His red eyes glittered. "Ah."
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Sneaking onto and off of the supply ship to Alcatraz was not hard for him. And he had caught where they were keeping Allerdyce by eavesdropping while he was stowing away. Cell Block D on the back of the island. "Dis is gettin' better and better."
Keeping to the shadows, observing the paths of the sparse number of ground security -- and not forgetting the guard in the towers placed at intervals round the island's perimeter, Remy stole towards the back of the prison.
After the whole disaster a month ago, the island had been rebuilt to match its former form, that of Alcatraz the prison, keeping up with historics. Some believed that it was an affront that Worthington was even allowed to build one of his labs on such a historical place.
Remy couldn't have cared less about the politics or details. Right now, his main concern was getting to Cell Block D unnoticed. Finally he found himself on the other side of the island. There was an entrance to a below-ground level. Hoping luck would stay on his side, Remy descended down the steps.
The single thick metal door was heavily chained and padlocked.
No problem for Remy LeBeau. As a thief he had picked locks of the same caliber many times, and could do it in no time flat.
Unlacing the chains as quietly as possible, Remy set them down and walked in.
This part of the prison had been untouched by the destruction the mutant Jean Grey -- or rather, her alternate personality, The Phoenix -- had wrought upon it. It was just as it was when the prison had been built. Remy shuddered. Prisons weren't his thing -- he'd spent all his life trying to stay out of them.
There was nothing down on this level, just storage, so upon finding the stairs, Remy took them up. That would take him to the main level, the level Allerdyce was being kept on. Remy peeked round the wall after quietly swinging back the door, and surveyed the scene.
One watchdog outside a cell almost at the end of the corridor. That must be Allerdyce's box. There weren't any cameras due to the wiring for them not being completed yet. They were relying on man-power for the time being.
Hand slipping beneath his duster to take hold of his retractable adamantium quarterstaff, Remy took a deep breath and strode forward, turning it into a run two steps in. He was upon the guard and had the staff extended before the pathetic mortal knew what was happening. Remy swung the quarterstaff round in a ground-to-sky sweep, catching the guard beneath the chin. His jaws clacked and he fell hard backward, cracking his head against the metal back of his chair.
"Who the hell are you?"
Remy looked up to see the young man who's photo had caught his attention, Allerdyce, staring at him through a circular viewport in his solid steel cell door.
"Ain't no time for questions, homme. But you can call me Gambit," Remy replied as he looked over the lock on Allerdyce's cell. It was something new-fangled. It would take too long to try and pick, if he even could. Still, that was not a problem.
It was his power as a mutant, the ability to transform any object's potential energy into kinetic energy -- typically resulting in a bang. It had taken a good amount of practise, but Remy had found with concentration he could control the intensity. So, focused, Remy laid his hand on the lock. "I'd stand back, if I's you," he advised, and charged the lock.
Remy barely got his arm up in time to protect his unusual eyes from the bright blast. The lock and a third of the door had been blown away. So...a little too much power. Remy shrugged. It wasn't an art he had cared to perfect anyway. He poked his head in through the gaping hole he had created.
"You a-comin' or not, mon ami? 'Cos I ain't stayin' too much longer, now."
St John Allerdyce looked up at his unlikely saviour. A man not much older than himself, possibly -- it was hard to tell; he looked rough -- with his thick Cajun accent, long auburn hair and almost demonic eyes -- burning red irises set in all-black. A mutant like himself who could evidently make things go boom. The guy who had just sprung him.
"Hell yeah."
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John followed quietly behind the man who called himself Gambit, who led him down a flight of stairs. He realized it was an underground level that they were walking on. He saw a cabinet marked "CONFISCATED ITEMS".
"Hey, man," he called to Gambit. "Can you do your little trick on this?"
Gambit looked like he didn't much like the idea, but he set to it, instead of charging it just picking the lock. John smiled as he recognized his flamethrowers on the top shelf. He quickly grabbed them and followed.
Gambit led him up a second flight of stairs and he found himself outside the prison again. The man seemed to know where he was going, as he led John along a path that had hardly any ground security and was out of sight of the towers. Then he realized they were standing in front of the water. Gambit had dove in without a second thought. John looked at it for a second, realizing how much he disliked water.
Turning to look back up at the prison, he heard the alarm being sounded and decided he'd stayed there long enough. He immediately started swimming after Gambit, barely able to keep track of how long they had been in the water or how far they had gone. All he knew was that by the time they reached the bay, he was exhausted and the sedative was kicking in. He hardly kept himself awake as Gambit led him into an alleyway and pushed him into the passenger seat of a car, mumbling something about having stolen it earlier that day.
All he knew was that he leaned his head against the window and then everything went dark. He woke up at one point and realized they were still on the road.
"Allerdyce. Allerdyce, you okay over there, homme?" the man next to him asked. He turned to look at him, head still resting against the glass.
"Don't call me that. The name's John, Pyro or nothing at all. And I'm fine. Just tired from the shit they kept injecting me with," he stated, turning back to look out the window. If Gambit replied, he didn't know, because seconds later he'd fallen asleep again. The second time he woke up they had stopped in a town. It was incredibly dark and there was no one around. Gambit climbed out of the car and John followed suit. The older man tossed him a bundle of clothes and pointed inside, but he stopped and looked at him for a moment.
"Why'd you get me out?" he asked. Gambit looked at him and shrugged.
"Dunno, mon ami. I done saw you and I saw potential," he replied. John nodded and followed him inside. He ducked inside of a room seconds after entering and changed into the clothes, which consisted of a black shirt and some jeans that were large on him, but fit well enough. There was a jacket with them, a jacket much like the one he'd worn at the battle of Alcatraz, but he laid it on a chair and dropped heavily onto the bed. Moments later, sleep over took him.
(The lyric in the page break is from "Image of the Invisible" by Thrice.)