Sanctuary Part 3:

The Disappearance of Roberto da Costa

The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Salem Center NY

"I am sure I don't have to tell you not to talk to anyone about this, Sam," Warren warned the student for about the tenth time. Sam shook his head but didn't say anything. He didn't want to talk back to his teacher. They had both landed a ways away from the mansion (mostly so Sam's crash landing wouldn't alert anyone. After dusting Sam off Warren walked with him toward the mansion, warning him and getting their story straight.

Warren put his finger to his lips to silence him as they approached the large double front doors. Warren slowly gripped the handle, making sure to turn the handle slowly. He felt like a teenager again, and not in a good way, sneaking around like he was in trouble. Like he had to answer to someone. The thought caused him to frown as he opened to the door slowly. Scott was standing right there in the entryway, waiting for them.

"I see you helped contribute to the delinquency of a minor," Scott said in that insufferable stuffy tone he got. He reminded Warren far too much of that asshole he called a father.

"The rules state it's okay, as long as Ah am accompanied by a teacher, and since Mister Worthington was with me Ah didn't break any rules. See, he helped me not break the rules."

"Let me handle this, Sam," Worthington growled.

"That is for pre-approved trips off the ground only. Sam, I'm disappointed. I am your mentor, why didn't you come to me? I'm sure I could have gotten us some time off the grounds."

"No offense, Mister Summers but you can't fly," Sam spouted off. Worthington gave him an irritated look. Sam frowned.

"What were you two doing out there flying around at midnight? It's dangerous, couldn't it have waited until morning?"

"Well-" Sam began, but Worthington held up his hand to silence him.

"We were practicing flying at night," Warren stated blandly.

"What?" Scott didn't sound like he believed it for a second.

"What? Do you think that this kid could only be in danger during the day? If he's gonna survive in this scary new world we've found ourselves in then he needs to learn to fly at night, in bad weather, in all conditions."

"I don't believe it. Even if you were telling the truth you still should have pre-approved it with the Professor ahead of time. You didn't even tell anybody, Sam's friend was worried sick."

"Wait, who?" Sam asked angrily.

"It doesn't matter, we were all worried about you, Sam, you need to let people know if you are going to leave late at night, even if you are, or are not training."

"Don't dodge my question, who was worried about me if I didn't tell anyone I was going?"

"That's not important right now," Scott said again, his voice was hard but his face was guilty. "What's important is you running off in the middle of the night off-grounds without telling anyone."

"Ease off, Summers," a gruff voice said behind Scott. "He did tell someone, they told me, but I haven't seen your smug face since they left." It was Logan, he was leaning against the doorway that led into the main hall.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you're a suspicious hardass," Logan replied. Warren snorted in a weak attempt to cover up a laugh, Sam paled. He had never seen his teachers act this way before, usually, they were much more professional in front of the students. He never suspected they fought like this.

"Logan, I ought to show what a hardass I can be."

"Go for it," Logan growled, unleashing the claws on his right hand menacingly. "I dare ya."

"I can't believe you two!" Jean appeared from the hall, behind Logan. "Acting like that in front of a student!"

Logan sheathed his claws and looked away, the fire still in his eyes. Sam gulped. Scott took his hand away from his visor's trigger and relaxed his stance, but his movements remained stiff and aggressive.

"Come on, Scott, it's late, let's get to bed," Jean looked very pointedly at her lover.

"I still have some questions for you two, tomorrow," Scott said, his voice flat. He turned and glared at Logan before walking away holding hands with Jean who was looking at him sternly.

"I told you to go alone," Logan grumped the second that Scott and Jean were out of earshot.

"It's not his fault!" Sam began.

"Sam! I told you I would handle it!" Warren practically shouted at him. "Logan I couldn't get the information that you wanted, that place is swarming with secret service agents, all on high alert."

"You knew that was a possibility, what else did you try besides just flying right onto the White House grounds?"

"Logan, Ah have an idea what we can do," Sam blurted out.

"No," Warren barked.

Logan's eyes narrowed for a moment as he switched his gaze in between Warren and Sam a few times. "Alright, kid, what is it?"

"My name is Sam."

"Okay, Sam, what is your idea?" Logan knew Sam's name, he didn't need reminding.

"Well, sir, Kitty could get in there, especially if we used some kind of distraction out on the lawn or something."

"There ain't no way we are putting Kitty in that kind of danger," Logan stated flatly.

"I told you," Warren turned to Sam.

"The idea might have some good to it though," Logan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"What?" Warren demanded.

"We could cause a distraction and use someone with stealth abilities, like a shapeshifter, to get in there and get the info we need."

"Like who?" Warren asked. "Morph is dead."

"Don't you bring him up," Logan snarled angrily, but then calmed, almost morose. "I know just the lady to do it."

"Who? No! No. No. No."

"Yes, Mystique could probably get in even without a distraction."

"Absolutely not!" Warren declared.

"Yep. Now, come on, Sam, it's late time you got to bed," Logan nodded at the wide-eyed Sam who couldn't believe that they were talking about working with Mystique. She was one of the World's Most Wanted mutants. She had no good in her, how could the X-Men associate with someone like that?

"Logan, there is no way anyone here is gonna work with Mystique," Warren argued. Sam made his way out of the entryway into the main hall.

"They don't have to know they're working with her," Logan said, which made Sam want to pause and listen further, but Logan had enhanced senses and would likely know what he was doing. That man could sniff out a dandelion in a field of daisies. He kinda scared Sam if the young Kentuckian was being honest with himself.

His thoughts turned to the earlier conversation and he wondered just who had ratted him out to Scott. He was immediately suspicious of Bobby but his buddy wasn't really the type to tell on his fellow students. In fact, Bobby was usually known for being one of the troublemakers. Not a rebel per se but he had very little regard for the rules if they didn't suit him.

Sam stepped into the elevator and pushed the "3" button and zoned out again. The more he thought about it the more he was sure that Bobby was the culprit, it couldn't have been anyone else. Except maybe a telepath, like Dani or Monet, though he didn't know why they would have bothered.

He got out of the elevator and headed to his room, he shared it with Bobby and Warlock. Warlock didn't sleep so wouldn't be in there, likely he'd be downstairs helping with repairs and such around the mansion. He was a very helpful and thoughtful guy for being a techno-organic alien conqueror. Of course, Warlock himself wasn't really a conqueror but the rest of his race was.

He opened the door and just started right into talking, "Bobby someone told Scott about me leaving, that had to be you, what the hell man?" Sam had a whole spiel planned but stopped at that. There was no one in the room. Had Bobby gone to look for him? Bobby rarely broke curfew. Sam looked around the room, it looked like Bobby had gone to bed, his top blanket had mostly fallen off the mattress and his sheet wasn't much better, his pillow was on the floor. The hairs on the back of Sam's neck stood one end, something wasn't right here.

The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Salem Center NY - 1 Hour Ago

Bobby lay in his bed, his thoughts racing. It was getting really late and still, Sam hadn't come back from his little trip with Mister Worthington. Something had to have gone wrong. What could he do? He had already told on his friend to Scott and Jean, they had even checked on him with Cerebro but he had been fine. That had been hours ago though, they shouldn't still be out flying around in the dark.

There was a sudden flash of violet light, Bobby sat up in his bed and looked around. Standing in the middle of the room was a tall shapely woman with white hair and six arms, in each of her six hands she held some kind of medieval weaponry, a sword, a mace, a dagger, a morningstar, etc.

Without thinking Bobby charged up, there was a reason he was called Sunspot. His body converted into some sort of pitch-black energy, his eyes glowed a radioactive yellow.

"What do you want, lady?" Bobby asked, knowing the answer wasn't going to be very good.

"Why, you, Roberto da Costa," the woman smiled. "You have been hired by the greatest entertainment mogul in ten dimensions."

"What?" Bobby asked.

The woman didn't answer; she just suddenly started dancing in the middle of his room. Like one of those weird interpretive dances that Bobby couldn't stand.

"What are you doing, lady?" Bobby eyed her suspiciously.

She still didn't answer, she just smiled widely at him as she suddenly finished her strange dance. There was another flash of violet light. The woman and Bobby were gone. It would be another hour before Sam would walk into the room blurting out his accusation.

The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Salem Center NY - Now

Sam stood in his room without moving for several minutes, trying to decide what to do. Should he say something and possibly get Bobby in lots of trouble or should he just wait and see if Bobby returned? This must have been what Bobby had felt like as the hours had ticked by after Sam left. Suddenly Sam didn't feel angry at Bobby anymore. What was he going to do?

"Dammit," Sam finally cursed and dashed back out the door, racing down the hallway, hoping to catch one of his teachers before they went to bed.

It was eerie running through the mansion halls at night. They were dark and quiet. Normally the hallways bustled with students and teachers. It was about three o'clock in the morning and so everyone was asleep. This was why it had been so odd to run into Mr. Summers, Ms. Grey, and Logan when he and Mr. Worthington had come back from night flying.

Sam raced to the entryway, but no one was there, he made his way to the teachers' apartments, they were dark and quiet. Had all four of the teachers already gone to bed? He was about ready to dash off to the kitchen and dining hall, maybe they were hungry, but then he heard something. He strained his ears to try and make out what it was. Voices. Sam ran to them.

"I don't understand what is going on around here, Jean," he could now make out Mr. Summer's voice.

"Scott," Ms. Grey sounded like her patience was just beginning to wear thin. "It's nothing, this is a scary time for everyone, people react to situations like these differently, that's all."

"Mr. Summers! Ms. Grey!" Sam called out as they turned a corner and appeared ahead of him.

"What is it now?" he heard Mr. Summers say just loud enough for him to hear.

"It's Bobby, he's missing!" Sam blurted out immediately.

"You think Iceman is missing?" Ms. Grey asked. "How would you know this?"

"He means his best friend, Sunspot," Mr. Summers went suddenly calm. "Tell me what happened, Sam."

"Ah went to my room to go to bed and found there was no one there. Bobby's bed is all messed up like there was a struggle or something."

"What is it with missing kids tonight?" Mr. Summers whispered more to himself than anyone else.

"I suppose we could use Cerebro to make sure he's alright like we did for you," Ms. Grey said, she sounded tired.

Once more the couple made the journey down to Cerebro accompanied by a student, this time it was Sam. They entered the Cerebro chamber and Sam went immediately quiet. Scott trusted Sam's judgment much more than Bobby's, which is why his little adventure tonight was so irritating and confusing.

Jean placed the helmet back on her head and closed her eyes in concentration. Colored pinpoints of light zoomed about the chamber, usually, it settled down into some sort of localized map but for some reason, they just kept zooming by. No map appeared anywhere. Scott and Sam exchanged worried looks.

"Scott," Jean said, there was a tremor of fear beneath the surface. Now Scott really was concerned. "I can't find him anywhere, Scott."

"What? What does that mean?" Sam asked, his heart leaping into his throat and making him choke on his own words.

"It could mean a lot of things, Sam," Scott said, his voice hollow. "None of them are good."

"I think it's time we woke the Professor," Jean said solemnly as she took off the Cerebro helmet. Sam gulped. This was bad.

Boston, MA

Mystique sat in front of a computer, the stolen thumb drive already plugged into the USB slot. Her yellow eyes scanned the screen full of encrypted files. Her client had been very specific about what they wanted. She quickly found an icon on her desktop and clicked it. Decryption in progress flashed up on the screen. She got up from the desk and walked toward the shabby kitchen to get herself something cold from the fridge. She had made her way from Martha's Vineyard to Boston. Here she had a safehouse that she had set up while a member of the Brotherhood. She immediately set to work, not waiting for the sun to rise, she didn't tire as fast as humans did.

She found a glass in the cupboards and filled it with cold water from the sink and returned to the desktop computer. She set down her glass and began opening another file when she paused. Another window at the bottom, buried under her other programs, was flashing red. It was the security cams. She clicked and opened up her security live feed. She had set up an alert on her security system that warned her whenever motion was detected on the cameras. Usually, it was nothing more than some insects or a stray cat. Not this time.

A group of soldiers, armed to the teeth were scattering themselves in defensive positions around her yard. She grimaced. There must have been quite some secrets on Mr. Strumpf's thumb drive to get the special forces involved. She glanced and saw that it still hadn't been decrypted. What was she going to do? She needed to stall for time so the decrypter could do its work. She had an idea.

Outside of the seemingly normal home in the suburbs, a team of ten special force members situated themselves exactly as Agent Fox had told them to. Fox was leading this little encounter after all. The sun hadn't yet begun to rise but the Eastern skyline was beginning to turn gray. They had located their very elusive target in record time, less than six hours. It helped that she had decided to be so active that night, stealing Strumpf's thumb drive.

Strumpf had tried to bribe them to bring back his thumb drive without telling anyone about it. They didn't care about his thumb drive but after so much nervous begging and pleading Fox was determined to keep it as evidence and see what had Strumpf in such a tizzy. First, he had to get it.

Fox stood just aside from the door as two of his biggest men approached with the dynamic entry special operation ram. As long as they knew what they were doing it would only take one swing. Fox had made sure they knew what they were doing. The pair nodded at each other then looked at Agent Fox for their queue. Fox glanced around once more to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. Once he was sure, he nodded at the two.

BLAM! With one swing the door caved in easily. There was a small scream and Fox and three other agents came pouring in, guns raised and ready to fire. What they saw caught them completely off-guard.

A little girl lay on the floor in a shabby little dress that had once been white, her hand was cuffed to a large heavy couch with thick wooden arms. She looked terrified, tears streamed down her dirty face and her eyes were wide with fear. She trembled at the sight of them. Fox stared at her, his gun pointed right at her, he paused for only a second then pointed for his men to explore the house. A few more agents joined them inside. One stayed with Fox. He knelt down to her level and looked in her eyes, sweat beading on his forehead.

"What's your name, honey?"

"Maria," the little girl stammered out as the men searched the house.

"Do you have a last name?" Agent Fox asked.

"Lopez."

"Farmer!" Fox motioned over one of the more experienced agents, a middle-aged black man. "Keep the girl company. I'm gonna go get her something to help calm her down."

"Yes, sir," Farmer nodded and crouched down as Fox had. "I didn't hear, what was your name, sweetie?"

"Mystique!" the girl hissed and suddenly yanked her hand free of the unlocked cuff. She punched Farmer in the face as she began to transform into her natural blue form. She grabbed the back of his head, now at about her waist height and kneed him hard. There was only one other soldier in the room and she launched herself at him before he had time to react.

Her foot caught the younger soldier right in the shoulder where there was a hole in his body armor. It knocked his aim wild and bullets sprayed across the room, none even close to her. She kicked his gun aside and he launched himself at her. He caught her in the gut and charged toward the far wall. She brought a hard sharp elbow down on his neck, once, twice. He stumbled but still slammed her into the wall. She gasped as she struggled to let air back into her lungs.

She recovered and kneed the soldier in the face, he slid to the floor. Three more soldiers came pouring in from the two hallways on either side of the front room. Their guns were trained on her, they advanced slowly. Mystique backed toward the empty doorway where they had broken in. What a delicious irony that their means to break into her safe house would be her escape. It made her smile. The thumb drive and computer were hidden well enough she doubted they would find them.

She spun around to dash out the door but ran right into Agent Fox. She heard a small click and froze. She looked down. Agent Fox had just locked a power-dampening collar around her neck. She stared down at the thing in horror. It was her biggest fear coming to life. Mystique, unlike some mutants, reveled in her powers, loved them, she was proud of being a mutant, the next step after humanity. She was better than them, why shouldn't she be proud? Right now, despite her blue skin and bright yellow eyes she was no better than one of them. Without her powers, she was just the same as a lowly human. An evolutionary throwback.

"Thought you had me fooled, didn't you?" Agent Fox smiled as his soldiers grabbed her arms from behind. She struggled, but these were special forces and she was without her powers and the panic of what had happened to her was clouding her thoughts. "You think you are better than us, don't you, mutant? Well, now you can feel what it's like being a low-down human being."

Mystique didn't say a word, they were beneath her words. They didn't deserve them. She struggled as hard as she could but now they had cuffed her hands with one of their own sets. Panic tried to rise up in her throat and overwhelm her but she had lived far too long and far too dangerous to let it take control.

"The President wants to see you," Fox told her then turned and motioned to his men to get moving. There was a prison transport there already, waiting for her. Inside of it was a set of cuffs high above where her head would be for her hands and cuffs at the bottom for her feet.

How was she going to get out of this? They all marched away, they hadn't even found the thumb drive and they didn't seem to care. What was this all about? Had he been serious? The President? As the situation and the current political climate sunk in Mystique had a harder and harder time not panicking.

The White House

The day dawned bright and clear over DC. The sun covered the sky in yellows and pinks evaporating the dew that had accumulated the night before. It was a humid area, after all, being built over what was essentially a swamp. Few had slept that night in the White House, but the woman who had been promoted to the Presidency was determined to go on as if she had slept. The bags under her eyes and the slowness with which she moved told otherwise.

She sat in the White House Mess, eating her breakfast. There a dozen tables scattered throughout the room and only a few were taken. The walls were covered in beautiful wood paneling and tables were always exquisitely set. The Mess, as everyone called it for short, was run by the Navy and they took a great deal of pride in keeping it clean and elegant.

Agent Fox arrived quietly striding in just as they had scheduled and sat down opposite her once she had nodded her assent. He was used to working for the new President and so he said nothing, waiting for her to give him permission to speak.

"Well?" she asked after chewing on her blue cheese quiche for far longer than necessary.

"We have apprehended Mystique."

The President raised her eyebrow in surprise. "What have you found out from her?"

"Nothing yet, we just started questioning her moments ago," Fox informed. "I have something else to tell you."

"Oh?"

"Yes, wait right here, one moment," Fox got up and left the Mess. He came in just seconds later followed by a few more secret service agents and someone in a very colorful costume.

"Madam President," Agent Fox introduced. "This is Carol Danvers, though you might know her better as -"

"Ms. Marvel," the President said with a large smile. Many women saw Ms. Marvel as the poster woman for what a strong independent woman was. She stood shoulder to shoulder with the best of the heroes and often was among the best, she even led the Avengers for a short time. Some women even thought of her as a feminist icon, though some took issue with her revealing attire.

"It's such an honor, Madam President," Ms. Marvel said, sticking out a hand to shake.

"The honor is all mine," the President said as she clasped Ms. Marvel's hand. This was going to be so good for her poll numbers.

"She's here to make sure that you are protected from any other attempts that may be made on your life."

"Oh thank you so much for coming to my aide, Ms. Marvel," the President had forgotten all about her breakfast sitting on the table underneath her, getting cold. "It has been quite chaotic lately."

"It really is an honor to be asked," Ms. Marvel repeated. "I will make sure no one has a chance to get near you."

"I'm so grateful."

"Ms. Marvel, we've recently acquired a terrorist that you have had some experience with," Fox told the superhero. "I was hoping you might be able to provide me with some more information on her."

"Who is it?"

"Mystique."

Ms. Marvel's smile froze in place and a chill seemed to suddenly creep into the room. "I'd be glad to help you in any way I can." Her teeth were clenched shut, it surprised Fox how clear her voice was. "I could always interrogate her myself." Ms. Marvel punched a fist into her palm.

The President raised her eyebrows but didn't say a word. This was going to work even better than she had thought.