Sanctuary Part 2:

Attack!

Washington DC

Night had long ago settled comfortably over DC. From where Sam was trailing Angel the light pollution blocked most of the stars in the sky. Up high where Angel was flying, unaware that his student was still following him, a million stars painted the sky and the Milky Way was easy to spot in the twinkling sea of faraway suns. For a while, Warren Worthington had almost forgotten why he was flying late at night, dangerously high, over the city.

Soon he saw his target growing in the distance. It was always an incredibly idiotic idea to try and sneak into the White House, but after the President's assassination, it was sheer insanity. The question was how crazy was he really? They needed to find out who was responsible for this, the real truth, which he was sure the government would never reveal to the public. How? He'd been wracking his brains since leaving Sam behind and so far had come up with nothing.

He began to slowly descend, flapping very little as he glided toward his destination. Below, Sam had to be careful and slow down as well or Angel would hear him as he got lower to the ground and the wind lessened. His blast field wasn't exactly silent. It was hard to keep his distance and still keep an eye on Angel at night, sometimes low hanging clouds had covered Angel's path for almost a mile at a time. Sam hoped that Angel's descent meant they were nearly there. Wherever "there" was supposed to be. As Angel flew lower and lower over the city it became obvious where he was headed.

"He's flipped his lid!" Sam muttered to himself and slid further behind his teacher, losing sight of him for a moment.

It was sometime around midnight when Angel landed in the darkest corner he could find on the White House lawn. Before he could even unfurl his wings a shot rang out! Ping! The bullet sparked as it ricocheted off his left wing. Then came a hailstorm of bullets. Warren encased himself in his techno-organic wings, none of the bullets could penetrate through. This was useless, he wasn't going to get anywhere like this. He readied to launch himself back into the air when he paused in surprise. This is really bad!

Sam had heard the shot ring about before the lawn had come clearly into view. His heart tried to claw its way into his throat but he fought off the panic as he blasted harder. He saw Angel crouched and shielding himself with his metal wings as at least ten different secret servicemen rained holy hell down on him. Two were up on the roof, two more were far away and refusing to leave their posts but four had gathered together and slowly advanced toward Angel, keeping him immobile under an incredible hail of gunfire.

"Good thing I'm invincible while blasting!" Sam reassured himself, thinking of a plan as fast as his young mind could. He angled for the four advancing men and blasted downward, ricocheting off the ground, sending the four agents flying backward in the shockwave.

There was a sudden silent pause as the agents reassessed their situation, some were screaming into their walkie talkies. Sam was relieved to see Angel take advantage of the situation and take off. Sam circled around behind his teacher and followed directly behind him, deflecting a few bullets as the secret service regained their senses and resumed fire.

"What the hell!" Warren screamed as the two fled the scene. Sam could hear a helicopter being launched but they could easily outrun it, Angel's metal wings made him faster than he had ever been with his feathered ones, and almost tireless.

"Thanks for the assist, Sam," Sam retorted.

"I told you to go back to the mansion!"

"And you commit suicide all alone?"

"This isn't a joke, Sam!"

"Wow, I had no idea!"

"Look, I don't think you truly have any idea how bad this could get," Angel barked as the helicopter faded in the distance behind them. They were flying side by side now and glancing at each other. "I have seen some things that you wouldn't believe. I have seen a possible future where mutants are rounded up and slaughtered like cattle or even worse, enslaved and slowly drained of life."

"Ah've heard the stories," Sam reminded him.

Angel shook his head and after a quick glance to ensure they were alone he motioned for Sam to follow him and descended down toward a riverbank below them, sufficiently wooded to hide them from prying eyes above. Angel landed with all the grace of his namesake. Sam, well, that was something he hadn't quite mastered the art of, landing. He crashed into the soft soil of the riverbank and ricocheted off into a tree, shattering a large branch and then landed with a thud right next to a large rock, covered in dark soil.

"And you wonder why I didn't want you coming along?" Angel raised an eyebrow as Sam regained his feet and brushed himself off the best he could.

"Ah got them four gunners off ya," Sam reminded him. "Ah bought you a window outta there."

"I didn't want you to," Angel shook his head again. "Look, this could result in the death or enslavement of every last mutant, I have seen it. We need to figure out who killed the President and hand them over to the government."

"Is that all?"

"All? Yes!"

"Ah might have a solution for ya."

"Oh?"

"Ah'm surprised you didn't think of it yourself."

"I'm intrigued."

"We both know someone who can walk right through walls and is untouchable, even from bullets."

"Kitty? What? Sam, no! Why do you think I didn't want you along to start with? I can't get you kids involved, this is way too dangerous."

"Didn't you say that all mutants were endangered by this?"

"So?"

"Then don't we have a responsibility to do everything we can, even if we aren't adults?"

"No."

The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Salem Center NY

"I'm not sure about the Professor's plan to turn this place into a sanctuary for all, Jean," Scott declared as the two closed the door to their large room. It had a kitchenette, a private bath, a separate sleeping area, and a living area. There were few quarters like it, but it was rare for anyone to live together on the X-Men. The students were crammed three to a room, but you couldn't convince someone like Warren Worthington to live like that. So the X-Men each got their own room.

"All of mutantkind is at risk due to things outside of its control and you want to pick and choose who we save?" Jean seemed genuinely surprised at his reaction to all of this.

"Because of a mutant," Scott pointed out. "What if we end up harboring the very mutant who killed the President? Then the government wouldn't need any more excuse to come and round us all up."

"With me and the Professor both screening people there is no way that is going to happen," Jean shook her head.

"It's not just that. It is never a good idea to put all mutants in one spot. It just makes us one big target, easier to eliminate. We will be putting our friends and family at risk. We'd be putting the children at risk."

"Scott, we don't even know yet what the government's reaction is going to be," Jean said.

"It isn't just the government, Jean. Over the years we have been making a lot of enemies, just as the X-Men, imagine if we become the self-proclaimed protectors of all mutants."

"Some people already think of us like that."

"Now everyone will."

"If we end up harboring all these mutants of all different persuasions like you seem to think we will then for once we will have the firepower to repel such an attack. We will be stronger than ever."

"And more vulnerable, like Goliath."

"Now you're quoting human fairy tales?"

Scott chuckled, perhaps he was being paranoid, Jean did make some good points. "Come here, you!" He grabbed Jean and she pretended to resist for a moment as he pulled her close.

Oh, stop, let's shower first," Jean giggled as he kissed her neck playfully. He loved making her blush, it complemented her red hair. Her laugh was a peal, clear and full of true happiness. They had suffered enough already in their short years, any moment of joy they could grab was precious.

Jean was in the middle of ripping off Scott's shirt when a knock came to their door. They both froze and looked at each other in their lust-frenzied eyes. Another knock. Jean sighed.

"One minute!" Scott grumped, throwing his shirt back on and getting up from their queen-sized bed. Jean made sure she was covered up as well. "You sure know how to pick a bad time."

"Hello, Mister Summers, I'm sorry to interrupt but Sam went out for a flyover an hour ago and hasn't come back." It was Bobby DaCosta. He wasn't the kind to try and rat out his fellow students.

"Did you see which way he went?"

"I think I can guess."

"Did you talk to the Professor?"

"He went to bed, Mister Summers, and I didn't want to wake him."

"He's been pushing himself very hard lately," Scott agreed as Jean joined him at the door.

"Are you sure he just doesn't want some alone time?" Jean asked.

"I'm pretty sure," Bobby shrugged a little.

"Alright," Jean smiled patiently and threw on her shoes. "Let's go down to Cerebro and make sure he's okay."

"I'll just change into my visor," Scott said, switching the sunglasses that he wore to bed for his silver and ruby quartz visor that helped protect the rest of the world from constantly switched on optic blasts. Professor Xavier had invented them for him with some help from Hank McCoy when the first X-Men had assembled all those years ago. It was much harder to dislodge from his face than sunglasses, just in case. Scott was always prepared.

They took the elevator that led down into the levels deep below the mansion where Cerebro was housed. Cerebro was something like a super-computer combined with a 3-D simulation room. Professor Xavier had initially built it with Magneto, but back then it had resembled a regular computer, except for the telepathic interface helmet that the user had to wear. Now it was a huge spherical room with a long metal bridge leading out to the very center of the room where the new and many times improved metallic helmet sat on top of a sleek display that was there for the non-telepaths to interface with the best that they could.

It took them three minutes from the time they left their room to get to Cerebro, some of it because of all the security measures in place to keep such a powerful tool out of the hands of their enemies. Retinal scans, keycodes, fingerprint scanners, and good old fashioned misdirection were all employed in its security. The entrance to the room Cerebro was held in looked as if it might have been a closet. The Danger Room, the Hangar, and the emergency med bay were located down here as well, there were also a number of secure storage rooms.

"Have you been to Cerebro before?" Scott asked as Jean opened the door.

"Three times!" Bobby told them as if he were saying a hundred.

They walked down the metal bridge, Scott and Bobby taking either side as Jean took the lightly built helmet and placed it on her head. Scott knew she hated what it did to her but she gave no indication she was being inconvenienced. He had been lucky to get a woman like her. As usual, she closed her eyes to concentrate and Scott put his finger to his lips to remind Bobby to stay silent. He could practically see the boy fight off the urge to roll his eyes.

"I think I have found him!" Jean proclaimed suddenly. It was a lot easier to telepathically connect with someone that you had already connected to telepathically. It took her less than a minute.

"Is he okay?" Bobby asked. Usually, Bobby wasn't this much of a worrywart but then again since the President's assassination everyone had been on edge. They were all waiting for the giant robot shoe to drop.

"He's flying with Warren," Jean said, her confusion apparent. "Why are they both flying around at night? Should I find out?"

"No," Scott shook his head, they had come down here to locate one of their own, not invade his private thoughts. "I'll find out when they get back. I am supposed to be Sam's mentor after all."

"Well, Bobby," Jean put her helmet down. "I think I can assure you that Sam is safe, but I can't assure you he won't be in trouble when he gets back. You all know the rules about students being out after ten pm on weekdays."

Bobby looked like he had just ratted out his best friend, perhaps he had, however unintentionally. He hung his head low and made his way back upstairs alone while Jean and Scott stayed behind to talk.

"I didn't look into it because of what you said, but Scott there is something wrong, Sam's fear and worry hit me like a tidal wave. He seems safe but there is something seriously bothering him." Jean told her lover once the doors closed behind DaCosta. She bit her lip in worry.

"I'll find out."

"I know you will, Scott."

The White House

"Wha-? What's going on?" the soon to be official President woke from a dead slumber as secret service men piled in her room, guns at the ready.

"There's been another attack, ma'am," one of the agents told her as they quickly scrambled to cover the windows and other points of entry. Thankfully her bed had already been moved away from the windows so they didn't have to move her from her current position.

"Get my robe!" She barked at one of the two guards posted at her door. The man grabbed it from where it hung on the wall and tossed it to her without moving from his position. She tossed it on and climbed out of bed, pulling the belt tight with a sharp tug before trying to calm her disheveled hair.

"Can we confirm?" one of the men suddenly asked, pressing a finger to the earpiece in his left ear.

"What's going on?"

"It's over, Madam President," the man confirmed.

"Did we get them?"

"I'm not sure ma'am but I don't believe so."

The President's face went hard and she marched toward her personal dressing room with angry steps. "I want a debriefing!"

"Yes, ma'am," the man saluted and began ushering the newly arrived agents out the door.

Less than ten minutes later the President was ushered into the Treaty room. The shift manager of the Secret Service agents that had been on duty was in the room waiting for her along with one of the agents who had engaged the invaders. Gyrich had been contacted but had been unreachable. Secret Service agents had been dispatched to his home to check on him, in case it had been a dual-pronged attack.

"What have you got for me?" the President asked as she seated followed by everyone else in the room.

"We were able to verify the identity of the invader with some certainty," the manager, Fox, told her. He flicked a switch and down came a projector screen, and the lights dimmed.

There was a picture of a cocoon of metal or something sitting upright on the White House lawn. Then the picture was replaced with a video screen where a motion-sensitive camera had turned on just as a blonde man with metal wings landed on the perfectly trimmed grass. Instantly sparks lit up as bullets ricocheted off of his giant wings that folded around him to make the cocoon she had seen earlier.

"We have identified this as Warren Worthington, a member of the board for Worthington Industries and a known X-Man, with a ninety-five percent accuracy."

"Where's the other five percent?"

"Our analysts studied the slow-motion footage and for a moment Worthington's skin changed to a shade of blue. As far as we know he doesn't have the ability to change his skin color but it is the exact same shade of blue as the known Shapeshifter and mutant terrorist Mystique."

"So we think that this may have been this Mystique rather than Worthington?"

"It would fit her MO and it doesn't fit his," Fox admitted.

"So what are you recommending that we do?"

"I say we try to locate Mystique and if she is within I would bring her in," Fox told her. "Gyrich may have other ideas. If she is located somewhere far away then we investigate the Worthington possibility."

"Has the team made contact with Gyrich yet?"

"No, ma'am," Fox checked his phone to be sure he hadn't missed any communique.

"Then I am trusting you to handle this situation until he can be found. I want this handled, now. Not in the morning. Not after Gyrich is found. Now."

"Yes, ma'am," Fox saluted. "Is there anything else?"

"Keep me apprised, I doubt I'll be sleeping tonight." Fox saluted again and left the room with brisk steps.

Undisclosed Location in the Canadian Rockies

Gyrich was walking down a long concrete and metal hallway surrounded by his personal contingent of soldiers. Even though this building, most of it was built underground, was top secret even to the president Gyrich strode along with confidence. For it was his secret. He had been a part of this project long before obtaining his current Secretary of Defense position. He followed the hall to a plain steel door. One of his men slid his card and entered his security code on the display on the door just above the handle. He opened it and Gyrich walked through.

"How is she?" Gyrich barked, dispensing with any pleasantries.

"We just finished the bonding process and she is recovering in her cell," Doctor Cornelius Abraham told him, not seeming to notice that Gyrich hadn't even bothered to greet him. The old scientist had a long iron-gray tangle of a beard with small spectacles that diminished his eyes and made him look like some mad old dwarf from a stereotypical fantasy novel.

"Recovering? Shouldn't she already be healed by now?"

"It's more of a mental and emotional recovery," the Doctor told him and turned back to his computer that he had been using before Gyrich had arrived.

"Emotional recovery? You've got to be shittin' me! I want to see the results in a test."

"She is feral right now, sir," Dr. Abraham took off his glasses and rubbed his tired dark eyes. What kind of crazy expectations did Gyrich have? They had just basically severely tortured a prepubescent girl for nigh on an hour and he expected her to be ready for a field test right after?

"That sounds like a good thing."

"She would be impossible to control, she might kill everyone in the base, sir."

"Do you think she is really capable of that?"

"Easily."

"I at least want to see her."

"It's not pretty, sir."

"Do I look like someone who cares whether something is pretty?"

"Of course not, sir," Doctor Abraham sighed and got up from his large desk. "Right this way."

Doctor Abraham led them back out the same door they had come in and continued on down the hall to an elevator. He pushed the down button and sighed while he waited for it. He wasn't much for these military types but they were the ones with all the money to fund his research. The elevator finally arrived and everyone piled in, the doctor pressed an unmarked button on top of all the others. It took half a minute to reach their flow, despite the elevator being exceptionally fast.

"She's over here." This level was completely different from the others. The walls were almost all-natural rock with only some buttressing and doors to tell you that this wasn't a normal cave. They followed him to the end of the hall where the doctor stopped and motioned them to the final door.

Gyrich walked up to the door which had a small one-way observational mirror into the girl's cell. There she was. The girl who had killed the President. The little eleven-year-old girl sat on her hard rock floor staring intently at her own arm. Without a change in her expression, she unsheathed one of her claws, now coated in the unbreakable metal adamantium, and sliced open her own arm from wrist to near elbow.

Gyrich grimaced at the sight, even though he'd seen worse, never from such an innocent-looking little girl, no, she wasn't a girl she was a little monster, he couldn't let her innocent looking face fool him. She was just a young monster. She used her metal claw to try and cut at her now metal-coated bones. Her flesh kept healing over so she had to continually cut herself, her blood was oozing down her arm and dripping onto her bare legs and the stone floor. Judging by all the stains on the floor this was far from this first time that something like this had happened.

"Does she know we are here?"

"She can't see us but she can smell us. She knows we are here."

"Why doesn't she attack?"

"First of all, she is in a state of shock from the bonding procedure and there is no way to know how she will react to it. Second, none of us have the trigger scent on us, she has been trained not to attack anyone unless they have the trigger scent on them. The poor idiot ambassador had no idea we'd planted it on him before he had ever planted it on the President for us."

"You can never leave loose ends, Doctor," Gyrich shrugged.

"So then, I am guessing you got the results you wanted from her?"

"Not yet, not completely," Gyrich said cryptically. "But she did deliver the goods, I'll give you that."

"Didn't she get the Sentinel Program restarted for you?"

"Among other things," Gyrich answered, his eyes narrowed at the doctor. He hadn't told the doctor about that. Obviously he had some sort of leak he needed to plug, and fast.

"Sir!" a single soldier came jogging down the hallway, waving his hand.

"What is it?" Gyrich demanded.

"Sir, there's a call for you, it's your cover wife, sir, she says it is very urgent you talk to her. Something has happened."

"What has happened?"

"She refused to tell me sir but she sounded alarmed."

"Phones don't work down here," the doctor reminded him.

Gyrich growled to himself and raced back to the elevator and returned to the floor he had arrived from. There was a phone in Doctor Abraham's office. He made his way there to find it already waiting off the hook.

"Hello?" Gyrich picked it up.

"Sir, the Secret Service came here looking for you, they just left. There has been another mutant attack and they are mad like hornets trying to find you."

"Thank you," was Gyrich's only reply. The less time spent on any landline the better. He wasn't going to get that field test, after all, he had to get back to Washington with all speed.

Martha's Vineyard, MA

The woman that was running down the hall in a scanty flowing white dress that fluttered about her like air currents had the body of a model with an athletic bent. Perfect for the man whose house she was running through, Daniel Strumpf, a real estate tycoon, and all-around disgusting person. In her hand she delicately held a small black thumb drive, her grip getting tighter with every step.

"Come back here, you bitch!" Daniel screamed in a choked voice.

The woman smiled as she glanced back at the fat naked rich man chasing her down the hall. He would be so embarrassed when his security finally showed up. He had sent them away so he could convince her to get into bed with him, the shy act almost always worked, even when she was dressed in a gown that told a completely different story.

"Sir?!" one of his bodyguards called as he rounded the corner of the hall leading into the main living room at the front of the house. The woman kicked at the startled bodyguard but he was among the best and he blocked her high kick with a stiff folded arm and dropped to try and sweep her remaining leg. He had no idea who he was actually up against, she was one of the best. Before he could trip her she leaped into the air and cracked a hard-shoed foot right into his chin. His head snapped back and he dropped back for just a second, stunned.

One second was all she needed and jumped over him, right into two more bodyguards who had come rushing in to aid their comrade. She glanced about for just a second as the two men took stock of the situation. They dove for her, she dove for a window, they were only on the second floor.

When she landed she stopped just for a second to change her skin tone from a bronzed model to a stormy blue color, her long blonde hair shortened and turned red, her eyes went from crystal blue to a violent yellow. Daniel looked angrily out the window to see if she had recovered from her fall. The changed woman smiled broadly at Daniel and blew him a kiss with one hand while the other dangled the thumb drive. As he cursed and screamed she turned and ran. Job well done.

Less than an hour later a helicopter arrived on the island, not that unusual except for the late hour, but striding out of the helicopter were three men in black suits and ties with dark sunglasses and leather gloves. They did not look like the usual high-end clientele that used the small helipad on the island. They looked like the silent men that accompanied the clientele. There was no one else.

They immediately took a golf cart that had been left waiting for them and drove to Daniel Strumpf's large vacation summer home. He was expecting them, sort of. It didn't take long for him to answer.

"There you are," Strumpf grumped as they filed silently into his home and eyed the hired personal guards already there with suspicion. "I'm not sure why the President would take a personal interest in my robbery, and so fast."

"It's not so much the robbery but the person who committed it," one of the nearly identical secret service men told him in a stern tone.

"She was this crazy purple lady!" Strumpf started but the bodyguards behind him shook their heads to the negative. One of them coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "blue" but Strumpf didn't even seem to notice.

"Could this possibly have been the woman who robbed you?" He pulled out a picture of a blue-skinned woman.

"I'm not so sure . . ." Strumpf's voice trailed off. All of the bodyguards were nodding to the affirmative in unison.

"I see," the secret service agent slid the picture back into his jacket pocket and straightened. "Could your men take us to where she jumped out of the window? We'd like to take a look.

"Sure." Strumpf sat with a depressed look on his wide and badly fake-tanned face. She had been so perfect.

"Let Fox know we are on Mystique's trail," the secret service leader muttered to the man on his right. The man nodded quietly and pulled out a cell phone that was linked only to Fox's phone. We're on her trail, boss. We should have her soon.