The door of the Blackbird slid open and Hank McCoy glanced up from across the cabin as Logan and Ororo stepped inside, a wave of hot air being forced in as the door shut behind them.

"It's hot as balls, Hank. You just had to send us out in the afternoon. Couldn't have been the morning, or the evening."

Logan simply received a gentle smile in response. "I really haven't had a problem with the temperature. I don't have a clue what you're complaining about." He pointed to the central cooling unit on the control panel as its lights blinked cheerfully at the two sweaty, tired individuals and their furry blue companion.

Ororo pulled her hair loose from the tie that was holding it back. "We found the location. We got a few tip offs from some "regulars" of the "batallas de los superiores". There is an area on the outskirts of Nuevo Laredo where a number of abandoned factories and warehouses are located. They said that anyone who wants to see the "show" should just show up and descend the basement steps of the southernmost building; apparently, the organization has "guards" who can pick out people with ill-intent. Military, legal agents, and government operatives are disappear on the spot, but for some reason investigations are never executed."

Hank nodded. "I'll call Charles and see what he wants to do."

Logan started to light a cigar, but Hank and Storm both scowled and pointed to the door. He gave them a rather profane hand gesture and stepped back outside.

At least the sun was going down. They had been scouring the city for information for five days now. Even S.H.I.E.L.D. had been in contact with them, giving new leads and sources. Logan blew a puff of smoke from between his lips and scowled. This whole thing was a real big inconvenience. It was too hot to even stand outside and smoke. Frustruated, he threw his cigar down and then crushed it into the ground with the heel of his foot.

"Ah, Logan, glad you could make it." The Professor was tuned in through the main screen. "I've just told Hank and Ororo that I'd like for you to go and investigate the mutant-fight operation tonight. If Mesmero is indeed the mutant chiefly involved in this organization, he will be there. His mind-controlling powers can only reach a certain distance, so I'm sure he will be somewhere near the match. I want you to find him."

Logan shrugged. "Alright. Why me?"

"Logan, I don't believe Hank or Storm will blend in quite as easily as you. And speaking of blending in, you don't want to draw attention to yourself with the guards at the entrance. They sound like telepaths to me. Hank is going to install a small ear implant which will block the range of their telepathy. I've tested the chips with Jean and myself here in the mansion and they work quite well."

Again, Logan did not show much enthusiasm. "What's the plan when I find Mesmero?"

"You will follow him to where the base of operations is. I presume that after the fights, they take the surviving mutants back to wherever they are being detained. Hank and Ororo will be in the X-Jet and when you tell them where Mesmero is, they will lock onto him. S.H.I.E.L.D. will be aiding us, and I'm planning on having an agent pick you up so you can follow Mesmero on the road while Hank and Ororo track him from the air."

Logan was glad the Professor wasn't close enough to read his mind.

- - -

The rest of the team had already changed and the locker room was empty, except for Kitty. She stood in front of the full length mirror and turned, stretching her neck so she could look at her body's reflection. "Ugh." She couldn't figure out why she wasn't losing weight. All this running, yet no pounds had been shed. She pinched the skin on her hips. "Too much," she thought to herself.

"Kitty? Are you still in there?" It was Jean. She quickly threw on her t-shirt and dashed outside. Jean was waiting by the steps, jingling her keys. "You take so long!" She smiled. But Kitty was looking past Jean towards the bleachers. Lance was watching them from below the metal benches, leaning against one of the supporting columns. He waved at her. She tried to act as if she hadn't seen him.

Jean followed Kitty's brief gaze. "Ew, what a creep...just ignore him. Come on, I think it's spaghetti for dinner tonight!"

It was. It was spaghetti going in, and it was spaghetti ten minutes following dinner, as well. Kitty leaned over the toilet, her hands shaking slightly. A string of saliva hung from her lips and she grabbed a couple sheets of tissue paper to wipe it off with. She stood up and pushed down the handle, watching her meal disappear from sight. She looked at herself in the mirror and felt a surge of disgust churning in her empty stomach. Her eyes were bloodshot and watery, the black liner staining underneath her lower eyelids like racoon circles. Her cheeks were white and her lips almost looked bruised. And to top it all off, she was still too fat.

"Heeey Kiiiitty!?" Kurt's voice rang up the stairway from the front entrance. "Ze telephone is for yooou!" She hastily cleaned off the makeup that had run, and then opened the door and shut off the light. Kurt was walking up the stairs as she made her way into the hall. He handed her the phone. "I think zere is a good-for-nothing boy on ze other line who wants second helpings." He sounded jealous.

"Hello?"

"Hey...Kitty?" Lance's voice sounded a little husky and nervous. She hoped he hadn't heard Kurt.

"Oh, hey Lance. What's up?" She walked away from Kurt, who was sulking by the banister. She really didn't want to talk to Lance right now, or ever. Nonetheless, she forced a pleasant tone of voice.

"I just thought I might call and see what's going on. I saw you today after practice...you looked really good by the way. I was at the bleachers and I thought you might come over and talk but I guess- well anyway I was wondering if we could hang out again sometime soon. I really liked spending that quality time with you the other night. It was great..." his voice drifted off. She tried not to imagine what was on his mind right now.

"Uh...yeah. We could maybe hang out sometime...um, but I have a track meet coming up next week so I've been practicing extra lately and I'm just real tired so, we'll try for sometime after that, okay?"

Lance sounded disappointed, but still hopeful. "Okay, how about I come watch you run at your meet? It's on Tuesday, right? I think that's what the schedule said, at least." Kitty wondered why he was looking at her track schedule. Jean was right, he was a creep.

"Okay Lance, that'll be real cool. But uh...I have to go right now. I have some homework I need to get finished and some chores I need to do. I'll see you around."

Kurt teleported directly in front of her and grabbed the phone, hitting "End Call" before Lance could say anything else. "You're not going to get rid of him by pretending you like him, you know." She groaned. "I know... and hey! Stop listening to my conversations!" She strode back to her room and left Kurt standing alone in the hallway.

- - -

The first thing Logan noticed when he entered the crowded and dimly lit arena was the all too familiar mutant standing in the center pit. Colossus. Logan clenched his fists, but reminded himself that Piotr was almost certainly under the control of someone else.

The second thing Logan noticed was the man standing at the corner of the ring. His face was tattooed with black ink markings. Logan knew the face from the photo Charles had shown him. It was Mesmero, sure enough.

The hours passed slowly. Logan stood against the edge of the crowd, keeping his hat tipped low over his eyes, engulfing his face in shadows. He tried to keep Mesmero in sight without taking in too much of the fight itself; though he'd been through years and years of war, he didn't like to see unnecessary violence and destruction. It was obvious that Colossus was the favorable mutant- opponent after opponent came through the doors and each one was easily struck down. Logan felt sick.

As soon as the last fight had ended, Logan pushed his way through the crowd towards Mesmero, who was also pushing his way to a narrow ramp. After he had disappeared around a sharp turn with a number of other obvious operatives, Logan followed, making sure he was not being watched.

Outside, he was surprised at how cool the air had gotten. It was pitch black but he could hear the footsteps ahead of him and crept slowly towards the sound, making sure to leave plenty of room between him and the people ahead. Soft static crackled in his left ear momentarily, then Hank's voice came through the earphone.

"We've got them on target, Logan. Thanks for being our personal tracking device- you're a real good sport. Let them get ahead of you now...there will be a S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicle arriving shortly to pick you up. Meet it at the north gate." He glanced up into the dark sky and almost thought he could make out the faint outline of the Blackbird in the clouds, though he knew this was impossible with its cloaking device.
As he made his way to the edge of the cluttered field, Logan could hear the quiet grumbling of an approaching engine. Then he could see a black Jeep coming towards him from the darkness around him, driven by none other than Nick Fury himself. He motioned for Logan to get in the car, and grudgingly, Logan complied.

The ride was tense for some time. Nick occasionally glanced at the GPS on his dashboard, which was receiving tracking transmission from the Blackbird. Logan stared out of the window, watching the desolate landscape moving by in a black blur. He tried to ignore Nick's attempts to meet eyes.

Finally, Nick cleared his throat. "I...wanted to apologize for any of the insulting remarks I may have made. I understand that you have responsibilities at the Institute, and that's fine. It's just disappointing that you are no longer a part of our team. We did so much great work together, after all."

Logan grunted in response. "Sure bub." Nick smiled knowingly, aware that from Logan, that was the best acceptance to an apology he could get.

After a while, Nick ventured again into trying to start a conversation. "So...was I right though, about a girl being involved?" Logan's stomach twisted a little. "Yeah, I guess." He stared straight ahead into the darkness, trying not to let his face express anything signs of vulnerability.

Nick laughed and punched Logan softly in the shoulder. "So what, is she your sweetheart? Have you two done anything? Or is she just eye candy?"

"Hey, I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh sure. Well I see how it is, Logan. You want her but you can't have her? Is that it?" Nick was trying to be playfully friendly, but Logan really didn't want to deal with this. He didn't want to think about Kitty.

"Just shut it, Fury. I said I don't want to talk about it!"

The rest of the ride was silent. When the targetted point on the GPS stopped moving, a transmission from the Blackbird came in through the Jeep's speakers alerting them that they would be stopping and meeting up in a nearby field to the left of the road. Logan was looking forward to stretching his legs and getting away from Nick. The awkward atmosphere in the jeep was driving him crazy.

When the four of them had gathered into the cabin of the jet, Storm handed Hank and Logan walkietalkies and compact earphones. "You two are going to enter the facility... I'm going to stay here with Nick while we wait for the S.H.I.E.L.D. team to arrive. I don't want either of you to go looking for conflict, but Hank needs to infiltrate the computer systems so he can extract and send data back to the Professor. Logan...I just want you to snoop around and look for anything extra that might be of interest, and to protect Hank if there's a situation."

Logan hooked the walkietalkie into his belt loop. "Let's go. I don't want to spend any more time than necessary in this fuckin' desert."