Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.
19. Rescue
"Mind if I crouch?"
Nervousness was making Creed lose track of how much time had ticked by since destroying the phone. Standing in the middle of complete darkness in a place nearly void of sounds and with very few scents around, it was almost like being in a sensory deprivation tank and that kind of thing did not sit well with him.
"Getting tired already?"
He was still trying to find a way out of the hole he'd got stuck in, but couldn't think of pretty much anything. If he kept optimistic, he could be almost sure the X-Assholes would at least try to get him out. Creed wasn't feeling particularly optimistic though.
"I ain't exactly comfortable an' this could take a while, right? Wolverine still has t'get t'that street ya mentioned, Saint-Mary, an' then he has t'stumble on yer friends. It'll take time."
Of the three pillars supporting the ceiling, the closest to him could offer some degree of protection. If Mystique...
"I suppose so, but I think you've deserved some discomfort. Don't you?"
Damn the bitch.
"And I think ya deserved bein' left hangin' fer bringin' me here in the first place. Don't you?" He growled, crossing his arms. "So that makes us even an' since ya probably will try an' kill me, I don't see why I shouldn't just make myself comfortable while I can."
Creed heard her let out an exasperated sigh before starting to move. The echo of her steps made it difficult to pinpoint her location with enough accuracy to attack her, even if there were no toxic slugs, but he could still tell where she was. Right now, she had just finished walking away from the table, although keeping her distance.
"Fine, then. Crouch all you want."
That was better. Nonetheless, he moved slowly, taking the chance to get rid of his shoes and socks while grumbling they were all wet from the water filled tunnel, which was true. As he finally got in position, his weight perfectly balanced on his toes, he was ready to leap towards the partial safety of the closest pillar. All he needed was for the woman to get distracted for a split second. Creed dragged out a bored sigh.
"Has he gotten t'the tunnels yet?"
"Will you shut up once and for all?"
If she got annoyed, she'd either shoot him before time or allow him an opening. He decided that a somewhat childish approach might both fit his Hyde alias and be less trigger happy.
"I would if I wasn't bored t'death!" Poor choice of words, though. "I don't know why ya wouldn't let me play somethin' on the blasted phone."
"Give it a rest already!"
Nope, not exactly the effect he'd been after. He guessed he couldn't press that line of conversation much more because she would no doubt end up shooting him. But if Cyclops was sending one or two of his little soldiers down the tunnel, keeping the woman in a conversation might help whoever get close enough to do something. He started drumming on a knee.
"I apologise if I ain't exactly patient in this type o' situation." She breathed out but didn't say anything. "Ya know, I ain't sure I believe what ya said."
"What?"
Better, much better.
"That ya're gonna let me walk if Wolverine's killed."
There was a relatively long silence before she breathed out a thoughtful 'why not'.
"I don't think I would if I was in yer shoes. Why make a powerful enemy when ya can just get rid of 'im fer good, huh?"
She chuckled softly.
"Maybe I like you."
That wasn't so bad.
"Or maybe..."
Creed reacted instinctively, leaping blindly towards the column. She pulled the trigger an instant before his shoulder bumped onto the stone structure but he was safe. Getting up to make sure his bulk was fully covered, he forced his ears to pinpoint Mystique's position.
"Sorry 'bout that," he called, heart beating hard over the notion he had just gotten himself a bigger chance of surviving the night. "But I'm feelin' much more comfortable now."
She didn't say anything, obviously; no need giving him extra data to pinpoint her location. Creed heard her step to the right and he slowly slid to the left, careful to keep the pillar in-between them. Then she stopped and started walking silently towards the left, so Creed immediately glided to the right. For an unwelcome second, he had a perfect picture in his mind of a three-year-old Lilia doing the exact same thing, only using a tree, to keep herself hidden from her Mamma while playing hide and seek. Except that Lilia had been giggling the whole time.
Focus.
Mystique hesitated for what felt like a long minute before starting to back towards the wall of the room.
"I hope ya like me enough not t'hold a grudge after ya fail t'kill me tonight."
She was silently putting herself in position, though for what he couldn't say. If she was smart – and she was – she'd be getting ready to face off a bunch of X-Men coming to rescue their colleague Tigard. The question was whether those X-Men were so busy keeping Wolverine from getting killed that they wouldn't get to their new pal Tigard anytime soon.
Wolverine landed on the tunnel and walked away from the steps whyle Cyclops closed the manhole and started climbing down. The stench of damp earth was strong all around him, but he could tell there was no one nearby. The attack would naturally happen farther from quick exits.
"Bishop?" He called through the intercom.
"Gambit and Cannonball are half-way through the tunnel," the man's voice sounded uncommonly loud in the silent passage.
The sound of Cyclops's shoes coming down on the ground echoed in ghostly fashion. That blurry echo would make it difficult for Wolverine to locate people and things with precision, but at least all he needed right now was to distinguish between someone coming from behind and coming from ahead.
"Ready?"
Wolverine nodded and started walking northwards in slow, steady paces. Some two hundred feet later, the echo of Cyclops's steps joined the echo of his own. Wolverine focused on the intensity of the sound and registered it in order to make sure he wasn't about to leave his partner behind, in the dark.
It was unsettling, the sound of moving air similar to a distant flowing whistle, especially because Wolverine couldn't feel any air moving about him. Soon though, he reached a crossroads and stopped, moving his torch around as if inspecting the walls to warn Cyclops to cease his march too. He sniffed the air in all directions but everything seemed so similar. The tunnel to his left smelt slightly damper, but that was it.
"Hello, there!"
His shout echoed in all directions and slowly died away. His instructions had been to carry on northwards, but the tunnel he'd been following had snaked left and right a few times and, while he wasn't absolutely sure (it was always tricky, getting your bearings right when deep underground), he could've sworn the left tunnel was the one closest to being northward. Was he supposed to go with his sense of direction or should he carry on the originally northward tunnel?
Onwards, he decided, once more moving the torch around to warn Cyclops to resume the walk.
"Gambit and Cannonball are almost there," Wolverine nearly jumped at the unexpected sound. "If you haven't come across anyone, you may want to wait a sec."
Wolverine stopped immediately. The only reason to be walking into Mystique's trap was really to buy Tigard some time: if Mystique had thought he was late for the rendez-vous with her men, she might have killed Tigard before a rescue team had any chance to do something. Of course, she could also have planned to kill him the moment the phone was destroyed.
"Sam's going to fly them both into the room and blast all their lights."
The sudden light would destroy Mystique's night vision, and since Creed would be able to hear them coming before Mystique, he'd be on his guard and ready to jump away from danger. Hopefully.
A sudden noise called Wolverine's attention and he sniffed the air, the torch lighting the area the sound had come from. There was something strange a few feet away. The walls seemed... awkward. He sniffed again, trying to make sense of the strange scents he was getting. They were neither human nor animal... Sudden realisation made him freeze. Mystique's team was wearing something to disguise their scents.
"Tigard's out of danger," Bishop's voice boomed. "I repeat, Tigard's out of danger."
Wolverine's first instinct was to charge. Knowing what he did, though, that was a very suicidal instinct. With a grunt, he turned and ran down the corridor just as the men waiting for him lept out of their hiding and started shooting.
The crossroads was straight ahead. He felt a bullet graze his arm, the shallow wound burning like acid, and another two hit him square on the back. Thank god for the vest, huh? Smelling Cyclops in the tunnel on the right, Wolverine turned sharply into the left one and crouched. This was a much better location for a show down with those ass-holes, even as the wound on his arm hurt bad enough to make him grimace.
The echo made it impossible for Wolverine to tell how many people were running towards him, but it wasn't really important. All he wanted was for the group to think he was running for his life and hurry after him.
Wolverine got his wish. He snikted his claws and sliced the first man's legs, getting a hold of his body as a shield and backtracking enough for more men to pour into the tunnel. He waited perhaps ten seconds and pushed forward, the first man still working as a dead-weight shield. Flashes of red told him Cyclops had jumped the back of the team, but there were still bullets flying and two managed to hit him, one grazing his leg and the other going through the arm that was slashing about. The pain had him roaring and pushing through the dwindling resistance savagely, which earned him another bullet, this time to his head. Fortunately, the toxin could do nothing against an adamantium skull. It still hurt like hell, though, not to mention his brain and ears were ringing from the impact. He hated shots to the head.
"They're all down," Cyclops shouted as Wolverine got rid of his human shield and came closer, getting Cyclops's torch and analysing the hole of the bullet that had gone through his lower arm. It looked as if the edges of the wound were boiling, causing the flesh to recede bit by agonising bit.
"That doesn't look good."
Don't say. He didn't bother answering his partner and instead did what Creed had done for him in July: he used his claws and cut off as much of the burning flesh as possible. Then he repeated the process for the grazes on his upper arm, his leg and his head. There. The wounds were still hurting, but it was nothing compared to the scorching pain of the toxin.
"Let's get outta this hole," Wolverine grumbled.
It was already past midnight when Cyclops and Wolverine got back to no. 67. It was a beautiful summer night, with crickets chirping eagerly through the second night of September, so Logan had rolled down the car window in order to enjoy the scents and sounds of the City of Lights. Even before Cyclops slowed down the car to park, Wolverine could see Creed leaning out of the window, chatting to his... Hmm. He was texting, actually, so he sure as hell wasn't chatting to the little girl. She might be able to copy letters, but she couldn't very well read text messages, could she? Or maybe Creed had taught her some basic words for her to read. The man recognised the car as Cyclops slowed down, though, and quickly stopped the texting to warn the others. Then he leaned out again and called his daughter. Logan could hear the usual 'hey, Lil' Devil' Creed always started the calls with. Something struck him as odd, but he quickly forgot the matter as he mounted the stairs to the apartment.
"Mystique, she got away," was Gambit's welcome, the moment the front door opened. "Dere was a small tunnel an' she crawled outta dere 'fore we could catch her."
Wolverine flopped onto the couch and asked Bishop for a beer as Cyclops pumped both Gambit and Sam for details.
"Hey, Creed," Bishop called to the other room as he brought the comforting cold drink, "half an hour's long enough, don't you think? Cyclops will need your report, too."
Logan made way for the other man to sit on the couch.
"He's been chatting to the girl ever since we got back," Bishop grumbled. "Not that I got anything against it, but it seems to me like he's spent every minute in this building prattling on the damned thing."
Logan took a long cool sip and shrugged.
"The kid was pretty messed up wi' the whole soap over the week."
Bishop grunted, annoyed, and commented they had ended up with nothing: no Mystique, no idea who she wanted kidnapped, nothing.
"At least she won't be impersonatin' no one else in Paris," Logan finished the beer and placed it on the floor by the couch.
"Creed," Logan looked up at Cyclops before twisting backwards to look at the man frowning under the door frame. "Did Mystique say anything else that can tip us to whom she was after?"
He shook his head.
"I been thinkin' 'bout that whole 'children are the future' talk. Raven ain't never been the type t'pay attention t'kids, whatever the reason."
"So you think what she's planning could involve children," Bishop said, getting up.
Creed leaned on the door frame and crossed his arms.
"Raven gets these bright ideas every now an' then, and when she does, she'll get a plan as fool-proof as possible an' she'll do her best t'make it all work the way she decided."
"What do you mean? What ideas?"
Creed waved a hand.
"Save the world from mutant haters, get revenge from someone who stabbed her in the back, get rid o' humans altogether, help mutants get t' the top o' the ladder... take yer pick! But there's usually this notion o' tryin' t'improve the world, at least fer mutants."
Logan couldn't help snorting at the idea of Mystique trying to improve the world.
"Ya all heard her at dinner, right? That intensity is typic o' Raven when she kicks up a crusade o' sorts. An' then down in the tunnels, the way she said she was living for the future... I think she is on a crusade."
"But children?" Bishop asked again.
"I wouldn't put it past her," Creed shrugged.
"A school," Cyclops said thoughtfully. "To raise a child means to educate. And to educate, you need a school... She mentioned that working on the children after their powers manifest is too late."
Logan nodded. It made perfect sense except for one little thing.
"But then why did she go ta all this trouble o' tryin' t'get me killed? If she's workin' on such a grand project, it seems t'me she wouldn't want the X-Men on ta her."
"Not unless she thought ya was an obstacle t'get what she wanted, or unless someone promised t'finance her if she got rid o'you in exchange." Creed suggested, and Logan nodded in agreement. "Anyway, I've already warned Isabel I don't want her or Lilia outta the house fer no reason whatsoever."
"You think she'll use them to get back at you over this?"
"If her plans go down the drain 'cause she didn't snuff Logan," Creed snorted at Bishop. "She'll be rippin' heads off anyone she can blame, and ya can bet Tigard'll be at the top of 'er list. I'm her newest pet grudge."
"OK," Sam cut in, "let's get back to this school idea. How will Mystique know which children will manifest powers? Even if she only targets former mutants' children, it's highly unlikely they'll all manifest as mutants. What is she going to do? Test them all?"
That would be a waste of time and money. Hank had mentioned before that it was difficult to accurately identify the mutant gene when it lay dormant: you could get true positives, but you could algo get false positives and false negatives. Only when the gene was active, or in the process of becoming active, could technology correctly identify mutants.
"Maybe she wants to raise an army of pro-mutant soldiers, whether they're mutant or not," Bishop volunteered.
While it was a fair hypothesis, Logan wouldn't bet on it. He couldn't see Mystique bothering with baseline humans long enough to raise a bunch.
"Non," Gambit shuffled his cards. "The femme has too much hunger fer power. Remember dat she wanted Rogue t'absorb Miss Marvel's power so she would be more powerful. I say she got information on a few children dat were born wid powers. Or maybe Addler, she left anoder diary identifyin' future powerful mutants."
"That's it!" Creed blurted, suddenly alive and stepping into the room, towards Gambit of all people. "Adler said somethin', way before Raven had Rogue absorb Miss Marvel. Raven mentioned it once. She said she couldn't see how Rogue could ever... what were her exact words? Be or have a powerful future? Somethin' like that, but more in the sense o' creatin' or causin' somethin' t'happen, ya know? Anyway, the thing was, Raven couldn't understand how Adler's prediction would happen when she'd also predicted Rogue would never truly control her powers."
"I don't see where ya goin' wi'dat, homme."
Logan couldn't either. Not unless Mystique was planning to kidnap Rogue in order to somehow make Addler's prediction happen. But what did that have to do with starting a school for mutant kids? Oh...
"Think about it," Creed insisted, looking intently at Gambit. "Tell me one way o' creatin' a powerful future that needs touchin' folks."
"The twins," Logan said. "Addler meant her kids would be powerful."
"Mon dieu," and Logan could smell the Cajun's fear.
"Rogue was always her lil' pet project," Creed added. "An' she was proud as hell over everythin' the girl accomplished, every victory, everythin' that made her stronger. Hell, she must 'ave gone ballistics when she heard Rogue was pilin' power-innibitors on herself an' basically tradin' off her mutant powers fer bein' a mamma."
"But she can't get to them," Cyclops frowned. "Rogue is so protective of the children, so careful... There's no way someone will be able to kidnap them."
Nevertheless, Gambit was already making the call. "Anna," he was saying as he walked away from the discussion.
"I ain't sayin' she's gonna do it, I'm just sayin' there's a good probability she'll try."
Logan looked at Creed, whose eyes were going through everyone in the room.
"'Course she can," Gambit was saying in the other room. "Don't ya know her! She's capable of anyt'in'!"
"I'd warn Wagner t'get his woman an' kid t'safety too," Creed mumbled. "I mean, the kid may be adopted but his parents were mutants and... well, it don't hurt t'play it safe. 'T least till we know fer sure what she's plannin'."
Logan couldn't help a snort.
"Jenny ain't the type t'accept bein' locked up on her husband's whims."
That got him a snarl.
"Ya're tryin' t'say somethin'?"
"I agree we need to revise security measures," Cyclops cut in before Logan could say anything else. "But locking people in the Institute doesn't seem to be the most sensible approach."
"If it'll keep 'em safe, then it is the most sensible approach."
Logan shrugged. If he were honest, it was also Rogue's approach. You could count the times the twins had been out of the school grounds on the fingers of... better yet, on the thumbs of one hand. And there had never even been a real threat to them before. Rogue was probably going to turn their nursery into a vault now. Cyclops was right, there was no way someone could kidnap the twins; and Mystique probably knew it.
"Maybe she'll aim at the children o' mutants, not former ones," he suggested. "There'll be a bigger chance o' them turnin' out mutants 'emselves."
"There's nothing else we can do here now," Cyclops determined. "Let's go back to the Institute and carefully analyse all the information before we make any rash decisions. For all we know, Mystique could be feeding us the wrong tidbits to steer us away from her real target."
Another possibility, yes. Creed's phone rang and he quickly walked away with the usual 'Hey, Lil' Devil'. Gambit was still talking to Rogue in the other room.
"What if her real plan is to stretch us thin," Cyclops wondered to Logan, Sam and Bishop.
"Then her plan's workin'.
-x-
And here it ends!
Creed has hopefully learnt to be more open with his work colleagues
and Mystique has lost a battle.
Next week, starts the new adventure
- Disasters Come in Threes -
and we'll see how many more lessons Mr. Creed will be able to learn.
Thank you for having read this far,
and thank you for all your kinds reviews.