AN: Thank you all for the continued support of this story!

Logan, Hank, and Charles all stood around a table, discussing how to get Erik out.

"The room there holding him in was built during the second world war when there was a shortage of steel. So the foundation is pure concrete and sand. No metal," Hank explained, gesturing to a rolled out blueprint of the Pentagon-specifically, the facility Erik was held in.

"He's being held a hundred floors under the most heavily guarded building on the planet," Charles added, with a sigh.

A look of confusion took over Logan's face, "Why's he in there?" Logan asked, his eyes bouncing between Hank and Charles.

Charles let out a snort and raised his head as the rest of his body hunched over, "Did he forget to mention?" Charles asked with a laugh that was anything, but humorous.

"Uh...JFK," Hank muttered.

"He killed...?" Logan trailed off, with shock evident in his tone before cutting himself off in disbelief. "That was Erik?" he questioned.

"How else do you explain a bullet miraculously curving through the air? Erik's always had a way with guns," Charles sighed as he turned his head to face Logan. "You sure you want to carry on with this?" he asked, uncertainty evident in his voice.

You could tell that a part of him wished that Logan would give up. Naturally, that didn't happen.

"Hey, this is your plan, not mine," Logan shrugged.

"We don't have the resources to get us in," Hank argued, shaking his head.

"Or out," Charles added. "It's just me and Hank," Charles breathed out.

Logan paused for a moment, "I know a guy. Yeah, he'd be a young man now, living outside of D.C," He chuckled, as a look of fond memories filled his eyes. "He could get into anywhere. Just don't know how the hell we're gonna find him..." Logan trailed off.

Hank turned to Charles, "Is Cerebro of the question?" Hank questioned, and Charles rolled his eyes before lowering his head down, slightly shaking it with a sigh. "We have a phone book," Hank offered.

~~~x~~~

"Here, here, here" Logan said as he leaned forward between the seats.

"Where?" Charles questioned, carefully driving down the small street.

"Just stop here," Logan replied agitated.

"All right, all right," Charles surrendered, pulling up to a house in a suburban neighborhood.

"Next time I'm driving," Logan scoffed, as Charles brought the car to a stop, it was clear he hadn't driven in years.

"Don't get used to it," Charles retorted, rolling his eyes.

The three of men stepped out of the car and up to the house's front porch, passing by a mailbox with 'Maximoff' written across it's side. Strangely, the doormat at the front door had black burn marks across the lettering. Logan knocked on the dark wooden door, before watching it open up to a brunette middle-aged woman her smile dropping from her face.

"What's he done now?" she sighed. "I'll just write you a check for whatever he took..." she shook her head, the woman sounded so tired.

"We just need to talk to him," Logan reassured, she nodded and opened the door all they way, allowing them in.

"Peter!" she called. "The cops are here!" she stepped out of their way. "Again," she added, seemingly sick and tired of her son's troublemaking antics. "Down there," she told them, pointing to a door.

Logan turned the knob and led the group down the wooden stairs. Stolen road signs hung on or leaned against the walls as they made their way further down. There was music was playing loud along with what sounded like a ping pong game. Once the men got to the last step, they stood in a large room and witnessed a peculiar sight. There was indeed a ping pong game being played by a young man with silver hair, but he was playing against himself, rushing to each side to hit the ball effortlessly.

"What do you guys want?" Peter asked quickly, not taking his eyes off the game before flashing past them and onto a couch eating an almost finished popsicle, "I've been here all day," He told them.

"Just relax, Peter. We're not cops," Logan reassured, before Peter cut him off.

"Course you're not cops. If you were cops you wouldn't be driving a rental car," Peter pointed out.

Charles raised his eyebrow, "How'd you know we got a rental car?" he questioned.

"I checked your registration when you were walking to the door. I also had some time to kill so I went through your rental agreement. Saw you were from out of town. Are you FBI?" he asked, speaking quickly. Using his speed, he grabbed Charles's wallet in a second, looking through it's contents. "No, you're not cops. Hey, what's with this gifted youngsters' place?" He asked as he sped away, dropping the wallet and Charles' business card on the floor.

"That's an old card," Charles stated annoyed, as he slipped the items back into his pocket.

"He's fascinating..." Hank commented, as he watched Peter speed around.

"He's a pain in the arse," Charles scoffed, running his hand through his hair, which was windblown because of Peter's speed.

"What? A teleporter?" Hank questioned.

"No, he's just fast. And when I knew him he wasn't so...young," Logan replied.

Peter frowned at his statement before grinning, "Young? You're just old," Peter quipped.

They turned back to the couch, seeing Peter already lounging on it finishing up a popsicle that he just got.

Hank stepped forward, "So you're not afraid to show your powers," Hank observed, raising an eyebrow.

Peter faked innocence, "What powers? What are you talking about? Do you see something strange here? Nothing anybody would believe if you told them..." He said very quickly, before zipped between Charles and Logan to the Pac-Man machine across the room, that was obviously stolen. "So, who are you? What do you want?" he asked.

"We need your help, Peter," Logan stated briefly.

"For what?" He quickly asked back, keeping his eyes glued to the game screen.

"To break into a highly secured facility...and get someone out,"

"Prison break? That's illegal you know..." Peter chuckled back, looking at the middle aged men who were apparently planning to do something worse than all of his crimes combined.

"Um..." Logan looked around the room at all the stolen items filling the room, which were mainly TV's and Twinkie boxes that still had price tags on them. Logan turned back to look at Peter who was still playing his game. "Well, only if you get caught."

"So, what's in it for me?" Peter asked, keeping his eyes glued to the game screen.

"You, you kleptomaniac, get to break into the Pentagon," Charles retorted, taking off his sunglasses to wipe his eyes.

This promise peaked Peter's interest, he stopped playing the game and turned around to face them.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Peter questioned.

"Because we're just like you," Logan said plainly, keeping his arms folded.

"Show him," Charles told Logan.

Logan raised his fist up, slowly, three bone claws poked through his skin and grew between his fingers.

Peter grimaced before nodding, "That's cool, but disgusting,"

~~~x~~~

"Built in 1943, the Pentagon is the world's largest office building," the tour guide began her routine. Charles, Hank, and Logan walked together in a large tourist group. "Housing more than 25,000 military employees stretched out over six million square feet,"

"Where's the bathroom?" a little boy near the front asked.

"He always need to pee!" the little boy's sister groaned.

"Well, lucky for you, you'll have plenty to choose from. The building was constructed during the segregation so..."

Logan and Charles quickly slip away from the tour guide, throwing their visitor's passes in a bin at the bottom of the stairs they went down. While Peter went away earlier to get Erik out. Hank stayed with the group and as discreetly as he could, pulled out a small a radio monitor twisting a couple switches—to interfere with the security camera signals. When activated, it would cut all the signals in the Pentagon, canceling the security footage and show Sanford & Son on the screens.

Logan and Charles climb several flights of stairs until they finally reach door to the Pentagon kitchen. Hank sets off the fire alarm sprinklers causing water to sprinkle down on the staff and them. Charles began speaking right away.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, this is a Code Red situation. We are evacuating the entire floor...so that my associates and I...can, uh, secure the prison..." Charles finished, and Logan sent him a 'what the hell?' look, but all the kitchen staff immediately left, leaving only two guards to deal with.

"Who are you?" One of the guards asked, advancing on them.

'We're special operations, CB...FB-CID," Charles was getting flustered. "Perhaps you didn't hear me when first I spoke...but it is imperative that you understand... we're in a complete lock down situation. We have to get you to the third floor..."

Logan was getting frustrated with Charles' rambling and rolled his eyes before took charge of the situation. Logan walked forward to the guards, grabbing a frying pan on his way and punched one guard in his gut before smashing the pan on the other guard's leg then slapping him with it, knocking him out cold. Logan used the pan again on the guard that was doubled over and smashed the pan against his arm, throwing over a cart of food.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you finished?" Logan asked Charles sarcastically.

Charles stared at him in shock for a few seconds before shaking his head and grabbing the key to the lift from one of the guards.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, looking up to meet Logan's eyes. "I'm just not very good with violence," he declared, as the elevator doors open.

Revealing someone Charles never thought he'd see again...Erik.

Erik looked at his old friend in shock, "Charles?" he asked in surprise.

Charles looked at him for a second before his face scrunched up, fiery with anger, and he launched a blow into the other man's face. Charles was no fighter though and ended up stumbling into the corner of the lift.

"Good to see you too, old friend," Erik commented as he wiped at his sore lip. "And walking," he added.

"No thanks to you!" Charles snarled.

"You're the last person in the world I expected to see today," Erik stated truthfully.

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to," he informed the man. He quickly advanced on him. "If we get you out of here, we do it my way. No killing," Charles demanded.

Erik nodded unfazed, "No helmet," he said, tapping his head. "I couldn't disobey you even if I wanted," Erik reminded.

"I am never getting inside that head again. I need your word, Erik," Charles pressed.

Erik nodded his head slightly, not knowing the truth that Charles had lost his powers. Once there silent agreement was established between the two of them they turned to walk out of the lift. Before they could even leave they were surrounded by six security guards, aiming their guns at the intruders who broke into the Pentagon.

"Nobody move! Hold it right there!" an officer shouted.

"Charles," Erik called, turning to his friend.

"Don't move! Hands up, or we will shoot!" another ordered.

"Freeze them Charles," Erik instructed him.

"I can't," Charles admitted bitterly.

Erik's face dropped, looking at his old friend then faced forward with a look of determination. Suddenly, all the metal in the room began to vibrate.

"No!" Charles cried, as the metal rose into the air causing the guards to fire their guns.

Logan held up his hand and his bone claws began to protrude from his knuckles. While Peter put on his goggles and slid on his headphones and began to zip around the room. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion compared to the pace that Peter was moving. He knocked some guards' hats off, poked another one's cheek as he ran along the wall. He set one of the officer's fist right beside his own face, so he'd knock himself out. He pulled a plate out of the air and sent it flying across the room. He gave two men a wedgies and raced back to move the bullets fired from the officers guns from their targets. He raised them slightly above everyone's head and stood back in his place.

Erik was the first to recover from the shock of everything that had just happened. They all looked around in complete confusion. Charles looked at the young man who was smiling at them. Charles made his way through the kitchen and out the door without even a second glance. Erik looked down at Logan's claws for a moment, and followed Charles out.

Logan nodded, "Thanks, kid," Logan said, patting Peter on the shoulder as he passed.

Peter grinned and jogged to catch up with everyone. The mutants left the Pentagon building as quickly as they could. Hank stood outside with the car, waiting for them to return. Hank started the car immediately as soon as he saw everyone, once the five men were seated in the car Hank took off from the parking lot.

"So that's it, then? Right?" Peter asked, looking at the older mutants.

"Still gotta get Claudia," Hank replied, focusing on the road.

"Get?" Erik repeated, before glancing at Charles. "I was wondering why the lovely Claudia was strangely absent from your side," Erik stated.

Charles' lips formed into a thin line, "It's a long story that I rather not get into right now," Charles complained, narrowing his eyes at Erik. "I hope either of you remember seeing her address in the phone book, because I don't," Charles said.

"Well, that's the thing, I didn't see a Claudia Walker listed," Logan responded, frustration lining his forehead. "We have no way of finding her," he added.

Hank began to shift uncomfortably in the driver's seat which Charles noticed, frowning he slowly leaned forward in his seat.

"What is it, Hank?" Charles asked, sensing something was off.

Hank was most definitely hiding something, and it was setting Charles on edge slightly. Even Logan seemed to pick this up and looked curiously at him.

"Charles..." Hank called. "How angry would you be if I told you I had Claudia's address for several years now?" Hank asked.

AN: It's what you all been waiting for...Claudia finally appears in the next chapter!