The Jean Grey School for Higher Learning, Westchester, New York

The Past, Six Weeks Ago

Ororo felt that she may have handled the situation with Gambit poorly. He had seemed so disengaged from his life at the school, preoccupied, and perhaps bored. When Captain America had expressed a passing interest in Gambit's potential skill set in espionage, Ororo had thought the challenge would entice Remy. She certainly assumed that he would welcome the chance to follow Rogue into the Avengers. Apparently, she had been mistaken. He had laughed when she brought him the proposition. After she had explained to him that she was not speaking in jest, he waved off the offer as if it were a bad odor to be dispersed. Remy then turned the conversation onto trivial matters. He told her they needed dinner and drinks. He wanted to take her dancing, he said. Ororo became irritable with him. He tried teasing her, then flirting with her to cajole her out of her irritation.

"I refuse to allow you to steer the course of this conversation any longer," Ororo had informed him. "We can continue when you are ready to speak as an adult."

He tugged on her hand, trying to coax her onto the couch where he had been lounging (and in Ororo's opinion, staring blankly into space doing nothing particularly useful). "Don't be mad, Stormy. Come sit by me a spell. I want t'catch up wit' you." Then he apologized, was contrite, and worse still, sympathetic to her current relationship status. This only served to aggravate her further. Ororo had made it her practice to avoid overwrought emotions, to maintain her serenity, whereas Remy seemed to revel in overdramatic chaos. She wondered how it was they ever remained friends.

Later, she would wonder if they still were. Perhaps they had grown apart. Friends were in short supply, where Ororo was concerned. Two of her dearest and closest friends, Jean and Kurt, were dead. It was tragic to let her friendship with Remy lapse. She thought she might try to reconcile with him. He would, with time, find his own way. Even if he had to take the most difficult and circuitous path to get there.

When she went looking for him, she could not find him in his usual places. Remy failed to appear at his scheduled classes, though the students seemed not to have noticed his absence. Joanna reported that he had not been gorging himself on fried food in the cafeteria as usual. Nor did Ororo find him in Logan's office drinking whisky, napping midday in the teacher's lounge alongside Doop, hanging from the gymnastic equipment in the workout room with Hank, or fighting Bobby over the remote control in the recreation room. She sought him out in the staff quarters. When she knocked at his door, there was no response.

Ororo opened the door and peered into his room. The room was dark. She entered and walked to the window. Drawing up the shade, she found the room was devoid of any personal effects. The walls were bare. The bed had been haphazardly made. It was the only sign that someone had once been in residence. Ororo opened his closet. It too, was empty. She experienced a moment of trepidation. There was a waste basket beside the bed. It contained a few scraps of paper, most of it burned, but not all. Ororo picked up the remnants of a glossy brochure. The portion of the cover that remained read: Dealing with Depression. She was alarmed by this, that she had not been conscious of the signs that he may have been ill. Ororo opened the brochure and read that symptoms include: lack of interest, lethargy, sleeplessness, dizziness, feelings of low self-worth, irritability. She sat on the edge of the unmade bed for a moment to think. Had she witnessed any of these symptoms? Indeed, she could name several in any one of her colleagues. But Remy in particular?

She knew she was grasping at straws by going to his office. When she opened the door to the small room just past the laundry, she was surprised to find it occupied. A red-headed girl was seated at the desk, her head bowed over a piece of paper, a green colored pencil in her hand.

"Oh," Ororo said, watching as the teenage version of her friend, Jean Grey, glanced up from her drawing to look at her. Jean looked surprised as well, absorbed in her drawing as she was.

Jean sat upright in the office chair. "Oh," she echoed. "I – hullo, Professor Munroe."

Ororo regarded the girl with curiosity. "What are you doing in here?" she asked and cast a glance around the small white room. It was spartan, it lacked even a window.

Jean's face began to turn pink. "Remy – I mean, Professor LeBeau...he told me it was okay to come in here. That I could use his office while he was gone."

Ororo stepped into the room. It was little more than a closet, really. The younger girl placed her pencil into the colorful box she had on the desk. It was an old cigar box. "I was not aware the two of you had spoken," Ororo said.

Jean's face continued to redden until it was nearly the color of her hair. She nodded.

"When was this?" Ororo asked.

Jean paused to think. "Maybe two weeks ago," she replied finally.

"Did he tell you he was going somewhere?" Ororo asked.

"No," Jean said. "He didn't tell me where. Only that he was going."

"Oh," Ororo said, discomfited. She did not understand why Remy would speak to a teen girl rather than talk to any of his colleagues. "Did he say when he would return?"

Jean seemed relieved. "Yes...after spring break. Were you looking for him?" she asked. "Only that a bunch of other people are looking for him, too." Jean pointed to the office phone on the desk. The red light on the phone was lit, signifying the waiting voice mails. "It rings every time I'm in here."

Ororo regarded the phone for a moment, and then turned to smile wanly at Jean. "Remy and I seem to have lost track of one another," she said. "Tell me, Jean. Are you not uncomfortable in here? This room is quite warm."

Jean shook her head. "No, I like it," she replied then looked sheepish. "Though I suppose I should probably get going...to class..."

Ororo raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms across her chest, though her smile was kind. Jean ducked her head a bit and shrugged her shoulders with a grimace. She collected her drawing pad and her box and moved to leave.

Before she passed Ororo she paused and said: "No one else knows I come in here."

Ororo nodded at her. "Your secret is safe with me."

Jean smiled gratefully and Ororo felt her heart twist painfully in her chest. Jean slipped through the door and started off down the hall. Ororo watched her go, feeling as though she had missed an opportunity somehow. Ororo thought it would do little good to befriend the girl when Jean would inevitably return to her own timeline and forget all that had transpired during her time in the future.

Ororo approached the telephone and picked up the receiver. Remy had a strange sort of affliction when it came to passwords. He seemed unable to resist breaking codes. There was never a need for a reminder to change passwords when Remy was around. If a password had gone too long unchanged, the user would find himself either locked out of his own computer, subscribed to any number of e-mailing lists, or the recipient of some annoying technological virus. As it stood, Kitty was the only member of the household to have kept Remy out of her computer. Robert Drake still found himself receiving regular updates from a mailing list called "Cat Facts," much to his annoyance. Remy himself did not bother with passwords at all.

The cobbler's children go unshod, Ororo thought. And the thief's doors go unlocked.

When prompted for a password, Ororo pressed the zero button on the keypad four times.

"First unheard message," the cool automated voice intoned. "Message one. New. From." There was a click and then the message began: "Amber Delassandro!" announced a chipper voice. Then: "Hey, Remeeee..." began he message. The woman used a wheedling sort of tone. "I know you said you were going to be out of town for a bit...but I was hoping you might be able to help me out tomorrow night...?"

If Ororo was the type to roll her eyes, she would have done so just then.

"Do you think you could cover for Mandy's shift at the food pantry tomorrow? She's got to go to parent-teacher conferences and can't make it in. Anyway, she'd love if you'd trade shifts with her! And I'd really, really appreciate it! Pleeease? Okay, give me a call back! Bye-eee!"

Ororo blinked. Well, that wasn't what she had been expecting at all.

"Next unheard message. From," said the voice mail operator. "Mike Stich," growled the man who was presumably Mike Stich. "Remy, it's Mike. You got to pay your dues, man."

Ororo thought: Was this some kind of threat?

"Yeah," continued Mike. "It's that time a'year, sorry. I fucking hate being treasurer. Why'd I ever take over for you, I don't know. Just put the money in the damned kitty next time. So, and...oh yeah, the Ride for Freedom is set for May. Mark your calendar. See ya Thursday."

Ororo didn't know what to make of that either. The following message was from Cecelia Reyes. "It's Cece," she said. "I thought about what you said. Call me, we can talk. I hope you're feeling better. Bye."

Ororo felt a little annoyed that Remy should be discussing his feelings with Cecelia, but tried not to dwell too much on why she should feel that way. The following message was entirely in French. The voice mail operator informed her that the number and caller was unknown.

"Remy, je dois te parler immédiatement," said a female voice. "Il y a quelqu'un qui veut que tu meures. Rappelle-moi," The message abruptly ended.

That was certainly ominous. All Ororo understood was the urgency of the message.

"Next unheard message. From phone number: five-zero-four-five-five-five-six-zero-seven-two." The message was from a man who sounded defeated. He began speaking with a sort of sigh. "Voice-mail again? Remy. I wish you would stop avoiding my calls. Will you please talk to me, son?"

That was Jean-Luc, Ororo thought. She wondered what it was he wanted. Remy's family rarely reached out to him unless they wanted something from him.

"Next unheard message. From," said the voice mail operator. "Carl Denti," spoke another man. "...LeBeau. I need to schedule another sit-down with you. I'm on my way to New York. In the meantime, maybe you should do your civic duty and take a closer look at your state representative. Honoré DesJarlais."

Another mystery, Ororo thought. Remy was certainly a lot busier than she imagined.

She had reached the final message: "Oh...um, hello. Hello. You don't – you don't know me. But my name is Helen. Helen Moreau. I'm originally from New Orleans. I live in Boston now. I found your name and number on the school's website. I wanted to reach out to you...because – because I know something about your birth parents. I don't know if you are interested in finding out more. But if you are, I would like to talk to you. Please, feel free to call me any time." Here she paused to give her phone number. She paused before reluctantly saying: "Goodbye."

Ororo listened and then put the receiver down into its cradle. She still had no explanation to Remy's disappearance, but an inkling that his personal life had perhaps subsumed his life with the X-Men. She felt she had been kept apart from either life. They had been separated since Wolverine and Cyclops had diverged. Remy had departed Utopia for the school seemingly without any consideration at all. Perhaps he had been looking for an excuse to leave.

Ororo continued her search, waiting until the end of the week to leave the campus grounds. She rode the winds to New York City. She could access Remy's apartment from the rooftop of his apartment building. His door was locked but she was able to open it...given a few minutes. Or a minute longer than she would have liked, if she was being honest with herself. She found his apartment appointed similarly to his room at the school. It was largely empty. The furnishings had been draped in sheets. There was a stack of mail on his countertop. His plants had been watered and the apartment was clean. Other than that, there was no sign of life. She entered his bedroom and proceeded to the closet. Ororo opened the closet door and tapped the back wall. It rang hollow. She found she could slide a panel aside to reveal a false wall. The hidden storage inside the closet was empty as well. Ororo backed out of the closet. Remy had gone and taken his thieving gear with him. She was somewhat relieved to know that Remy, at the very least, was out in the world. That explained why he had chosen to absent himself and had failed to notify anyone as to his whereabouts. At the same time, she was disappointed to think that he had returned to his life of crime.

As she was closing up the apartment, she received an alert on her communications device. It had been tucked into the pocket of the shirt-dress she wore. She removed it and regarded the card-shaped communicator. It bore the Avengers emblem. Ororo wondered why it was still active. Curiouser still, why did she continue to carry it? Another thought to be pushed to the back of her mind. She was not far from Stark Tower. She decided to go.

She was somewhat disappointed to find that her security clearance had been reduced to Level Eight status. Ororo entertained the fleeting thought: Do they really think that would stop me from going where I wanted to go? She shook her head, chastising herself. The elevator deposited her outside the conference room. When she entered, the people gathered there turned to look at her. Logan nodded.

"That was fast," he said. "Ya didn't even bother to suit up."

"I was all ready in the city," Ororo informed him. "What has happened?"

Rogue and Sam were also present, as were Steve and Tony. Kitty and Bobby both appeared on the large monitor behind their heads.

"We've got a situation," Logan said.

"A puzzle," Kitty continued as she typed something into a keyboard. A drawing appeared as a hologram above the conference table, etched in pale blue light. The image rotated slowly. It was a strange sort of squiggle, with a series of four-digit numbers written at intervals.

"What is that?" Ororo asked.

"A return address," Logan answered. "I think. You haven't seen Gambit, have you?"

Ororo paused. "No," she said, feeling a flash of concern. "I had only just been looking for him."

"He showed up this mornin'," Logan continued. "And dropped off this."

Ororo took the gray slip of paper he held out to her. She read the note and experienced a moment of shock when she reached the signature. "But this cannot be...," she breathed. "Sinister is dead. Burned by the Phoenix Force. His clones –."

"Clones!" Rogue exclaimed suddenly and pointed a finger at Tony. "He has clones!"

"I can hear perfectly well," Tony said and put his hand over his ear. "That is, I could until now."

"There was a clone," Rogue continued. "Here, in Stark Tower that night Ah went t'pick Remy up from Central Park! That explains how he was in two places at once, and your stupid security logs!"

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Logan asked.

"Are you saying that a clone walked in here and stole those files?" Steve asked Rogue.

Ororo was growing frustrated. "May I ask for someone to please appraise me of this situation."

"Gambit came in here and swiped a bunch of classified files," Tony said accusingly.

"He did not!" Rogue insisted.

"And dropped off this message this morning," Logan finished.

"You've got it all wrong!" Rogue cried.

"Rogue, please –," Steve began.

"Well, think about it," Bobby interrupted. "This morning, Logan himself said Gambit was like a different person."

"Are you sayin' I can't tell the difference between Gambit and some brain-dead clone?" Logan asked.

"This is Gambit we're talkin' about," Sam commented. "It was probably an easy mistake."

Ororo fared him with a stare and Sam shrugged and gave an apologetic smile.

"It is true Sinister created clones of those we consider friends," she said, finally turning her disapproving stare away from Sam. "To throw us off our guard. He used them as canon fodder, to delay us. I believe...and I pray I am right, that the clones were not wholly sentient."

"What else can you tell us," Steve asked her. "About Sinister's base of operations, his weaponry?"

Ororo glanced down to stare blankly at the tabletop while she remembered. "He was below-ground," she said. "In a cavern carved out by Moloids. He had created a kingdom there."

"Moloids," Tony said and snapped his fingers. "Hey, didn't Murdock have a run-in with the Mole King not that long ago?"*

Steve nodded at him. "See if you can raise him."

Tony wheeled his chair away to the computer console.

"I was given to believe that Sinister's kingdom was destroyed," Ororo continued. "His weapons were the clones. He had created an army. That is, until the Phoenix Force arrived."

"Then we might surmise that his resources are significantly depleted," Steve said.

"Is 'surmise' similar to 'assume'?" Bobby asked over the video relay. "Because you know what happens when we 'assume', right? It makes an 'ass' out of–."

"Bobby!" Logan barked.

On the monitor, Bobby held up his hands in mock fear. "Oh, right. Forgot I have to act all adult in front of the Avengers."

Kitty directed their attention to the drawing hovering above the table. "We're trying to figure out what this means," she said.

"We think it's a map," Bobby said. "To wherever Sinister's hiding now. See, X marks the spot."

It was true, there was an X marked on the drawing.

"The numbers don't seem to have any meaning," Kitty said. "We figured if it's a map, they must be some measurement of distance. But it doesn't make any sense, not in yards, feet, miles, kilometers..."

The number closest to the X read 0613. The next point at the map was marked 0532. Steve was staring at the numbers, his chin clasped between his thumb and forefinger while he considered the drawing.

"No luck contacting Matt," Tony said, returning to the conversation. "He's not picking up his phone. Which is odd, since it's usually glued to his ear."

"Ah got an idea," Sam interjected, leaning over the drawing. He stuck his finger into the hologram. "What if the X was the school? And not Sinister's location?"

Ororo looked at the letter she still held in her hands. The note was addressed to Scott Summers at Xavier's School. As it would have been named when Jean was still alive. "And the X represents Xavier," Ororo murmured.

Kitty leaned forward. "Have we tried to run these numbers through some kind of decryption? Is it code for something?"

"No," Steve said finally. "It is a form of measurement. It's time. Military time. A twenty-four hour clock. Logan, what time did you receive this message? Am I right guessing it was just after oh-six-hundred hours?"

Logan considered this, his brow furrowing. "I'd say around then, yeah."

"Six-thirteen," Kitty said. "The first number. The next is five-thirty-two. It took him forty-one minutes to get from point A to point B."

"That's about how long it takes to stumble home from Harry's," Bobby added.

"On foot," Logan said. "He was walking. Which means I could track him."

"Hold up," Kitty said and continued to type.

"I got it," Tony interrupted, holding up his portable handheld device. There was a flurry of typing as Kitty and Tony warred over who could complete the task quicker. They stared at one another like a pair of old west gunslingers.

Bobby unfolded a paper map of New York, blocking half the screen and interrupting Kitty's work.

"Bobby!" Kitty exclaimed, knocking the map aside and crumpling it.

A digital rendering of New York appeared above the conference table; the drawing superimposed over it.

"There we go," Tony said triumphantly.

Kitty's nose wrinkled. "If we put the X over the school, and the second point at Harry's Hideaway..." The drawing was enlarged so that point A fell on top of the school and point B was in the heart of Salem Center. "And if we figure the time elapsed...at that rate of speed..."

The rest of the drawing spanned across lower New York with the end point falling in New York City. The team regarded the map.

"Well, it looks like we won't have far t'go!" Rogue exclaimed and Tony winced. "We're sittin' right on top of him!"

~ oOo ~

*Daredevil #5-6

Not much to this chapter, but if you're good, I'll give you another one on Sunday!