Silence

by Lady Jaye1

Marvel/GI Joe crossover. Sometimes being a mutant means having to hide it.

33. Prisoners

*Special thanks to willwrite4fics and TinySprite for betaing this chapter. It came out much better because of it.

Silence

Chapter 33: Prisoners

Bishop's future

An old man walked along the fence line of an enclosed camp. A few pigeons scattered out of the way as he walked by, with his walking stick softly tapping against the hardened ground. He did his best to avoid the non-mutant guards stationed at various checkpoints around the camp. It was difficult, as there were soldiers on patrol inside the mutant internment camp as well. Just outside of the fence and "no-man's land" were the sentinels. The hulking monstrosities, whose designs had changed only a little since their earlier incarnations, were more powerful and adaptable than their ancestors.

A good distance away stood several buildings that were used to "eliminate" especially problematic mutants.

The old man paused a moment to stare at the buildings. How was it that history had repeated, or perhaps rhymed was more accurate, this much? Had nothing been learned from the Holocaust or the Japanese internment camps?

He gripped his walking stick, which was the closest he was able to get to a cane. In truth, he was spry enough in his old age that he didn't really need a walking aid. However, the former Crimson Guardsman wasn't one to give up a potentially useful weapon. The man once known as Xamot therefore pretended to walk with a limp and also kept silent about the fact that he hadn't actually been depowered. His mutant powers still worked just fine, which was perhaps the reason for his extended longevity. You used what advantages you could and he had worked in intelligence and with enough ninja or almost ninja in his lifetime that he could be secretive.

It had taken good acting skills on his part, but the camp guards had finally, with great reluctance, allowed him to have a walking stick.

The old man continued to stare outside into the barren wasteland that surrounded the camp. How had it come to this? Xamot knew he had a lot of things to pay for in his life and there were many things he regretted. The old man looked around at the concentration camp. How had things deteriorated this badly? He'd been a fool as a young man, thinking that he was immune to the problems of the world because of his position in Cobra.

Oddly, Mr. Sinister had done him a favor by severing his link with Tomax. For perhaps the first time, Xamot's eyes had been opened and he'd become able to "think for himself," for lack of a better term.

"Seeker."

The old man turned his attention away from his bleak surroundings to focus on a small, dark skinned boy. Lucas Bishop gave him a solemn expression before pointing back towards his "dwelling."

"My grandmother is worse," the boy told him. Xamot felt a pang and nodded his head. He instructed the child to lead the way. As he followed after the other mutant, he marveled briefly at how small Bishop had been as a child. His first official meeting with the mutant had been with the adult Bishop, on the battlefield no less. Xamot had been shocked when he'd eventually discovered that the time traveler had already known him from his own time, albeit as an old man named Seeker.

Time travel never did make much sense to him. Any attempts to figure out the cause and effects of it all made his brain hurt. Questions about it usually resulted in a lecture on fixed moments in time versus fluid time, time paradoxes and alternate futures. What was it that Nick Fury had told him once?

"Time travel is a huge, fucking mess, son. It's better to just let the Reed Richards of the world figure it out. Me?" Xamot could almost smell the tobacco now as he thought of the man. "I'm just here to keep the assholes of the world from screwing everyone over."

The old man felt a pang of regret. Nearly everyone that he had known was now dead, with the rare exception. Xamot ducked his head as he followed after the young Bishop and entered the small building where the boy slept in with his family. He cast his eyes around until he spotted an elderly Ororo Munroe, frail and depowered, sleeping fitfully on a bed of old sheets. A young girl, Bishop's younger sister, was sitting next to her.

Bishop looked up at the old man he only knew as "Seeker" for a moment before looking down at his adoptive grandmother. The boy sat protectively next to the old woman. Even as a child, Bishop was ready to fight anyone who threatened his family.

Xamot bent down slightly to examine Storm. Sweat rolled down her still beautiful face. The stress and pain from the years hadn't quite managed to erase the goddess from her. However, Ororo Munroe wasn't quite the person she once was. Now, she was simply a tired, old woman trying to take care of a couple of orphaned children in less than satisfactory conditions.

"Her fever has gotten worse, hasn't it?" he finally asked. Bishop's sister launched herself at him.

The young girl, who was named Shard, wrapped her small arms around his waist and buried her face into Xamot's chest. The former Crimson Guardsman carefully bent down and ignored the arthritis in his knees. The old man placed an arm around the child and pulled her close. While he did so, he looked at the other child.

Lucas Bishop met his gaze, looking both terrified and proud. The old man could tell that the boy also wanted to cry, but being the "man of the family", was doing his best to hide his pain. Seeker gently picked Shard up and settled down next to the boy. He set down his walking stick and placed his other arm around Lucas.

He couldn't say it would be alright or that everything would be fine. That would be a lie. Besides, fake promises of optimism didn't work and the former Crimson Guardsman wasn't about to give the children false hope. False hope wouldn't work anyway. The Bishop children lived in a nightmare world where hope often didn't exist.

"I'll sit with you," Seeker told them instead. Lucas looked up at him briefly with a grateful look before returning to his silent "guard duty." The old man helped the children to wet down their "grandmother's" forehead and make her drink water in an attempt to keep her fever down.

It seemed to be a losing battle. Ororo mumbled softly to herself as the fever worsened. Worry gripped the former Crimson Guardsman as he did what he could to help the woman. They had little medicine or supplies available in the camp. What they had were given reluctantly by the guards.

As they sat there, Xamot reflected on the older Bishop. The boy in front of him would eventually travel back to the past to try to prevent this future. However, since the old man clearly remembered that Bishop…had the boy succeeded? Was this an alternate future he was in, only slightly different from the future of the first Bishop he had met? Or was there an alternate Xamot and Bishop out there, living in a better future?

He wasn't sure. Like Nick had told him once, "Time travel is a huge, fucking mess." Xamot could only hope that some time, somewhere, Bishop had succeeded in preventing the horrors that they were now living in.

In his present, however, those horrors still existed. Xamot felt powerless about the fact that he couldn't do anything about it and hadn't been able to prevent it. If anything, his time in Cobra had contributed to the problem. All attempts later in his life to rectify his mistakes hadn't been enough.

The only thing he could do right now was to comfort two children and do the best he could in helping Storm to teach them right from wrong. At least…if he could even help Storm live through her illness.

Ororo coughed and the old man wiped the sweat from her face. She didn't deserve this, none of them did. Even though Seeker considered the camps his punishment for what he'd done as Xamot, that didn't mean everyone else deserved to be there.

"Will she make it, Grandpa?" the young girl finally asked tentatively. She clutched a doll while her older brother said nothing. Bishop, however, continued to eye the old mutant from the corner of his eyes. Xamot swallowed a lump in his throat.

"I hope so."

That was all that he could say. It was the only piece of encouragement he could offer. Xamot Paoli wished he could do more than that. Of all the regrets in the old man's life, this one hurt him the most at the moment.

---

The present

Beach Head blinked open his eyes. At first, he stared in confusion until his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. While his mind struggled to catch up, his well-trained body automatically lashed out. His arms struggled against a set of restraints, which were currently pinning his arms to the side of his body. His legs were also pinned together.

A lash of panic struck him when the ranger realized that he was in a tiny, enclosed prison cell. He closed his eyes and opened them, hoping that this was simply another one of his nightmares that had been plaguing him of late. Any moment now and he would wake up in his room.

The ranger craned his head and felt something tighten against his neck. Wayne paused and turned his head again. There was no mistake; there was something around his neck. Panic rising, he noticed that he wasn't alone in the room. The fact that he hadn't even felt the presence of the other occupants, who were also tied up, unsettled him deeply.

Beach Head took a deep breath and reached out with his mind. He felt no other minds in his area. His heart rate sped up when he then tried and failed to even move something with his mind. His powers had abandoned him.

"Easy, mon ami," a familiar voice told him quietly. Beach Head rolled his body over to look at the speaker, slightly relieved that he wasn't alone. Gambit was lying on the other side of him, equally restrained. The ranger's eyes studied him briefly. The other man's trench coat had been removed, as had most of his uniform. All that remained of the man's clothing were his undergarments. Wayne suddenly realized that he had been stripped as well.

He tried not to feel too violated by that fact, as it was common procedure to make sure that prisoners weren't carrying anything dangerous. However, he still felt anger push away his panic very briefly at the thought of it.

Wayne's eyes came to rest on the collar around Gambit's neck. A soft, red light blinked away on it.

"An inhibitor collar," Remy LeBeau whispered, seeing his stare. "We all have one."

The ranger twisted his body and his neck as he tried to look around the tiny cell. His lungs felt constricted by the tiny space. Wayne attempted to do one of the simple breathing exercises that Psyche Out had inflicted on him, but was only marginally successful.

There were three other people in the cell with them, presumably all mutants. Wayne finally remembered that they had been fighting a sentinel previously, before he had woken up here….where ever here was.

Wayne tried to move his arms again, but the restraints held. He was uncomfortably aware of the fact that his body was starting to ache from his previous wounds. The ranger doubted that any of the wounds that he and Gambit had received from the sentinel had been treated.

Sweat trickled down his forehead. The walls seemed to be squeezing in on him, making it difficult to breathe. His current lack of powers only exasperated the situation. Wayne hadn't realized until now what a comfort his empathic abilities were. Before, as useful as it was, it had always been a pain to know and feel where everyone was. Now, however, it felt as if someone had turned off a light switch in his mind, leaving him blind and deaf.

He shuddered.

"You've got to stay calm," Remy muttered to him. The Cajun had been around him long enough now to know when the claustrophobia was bothering him. "Where ever we are, mon ami, we can't show weakness. You know dat."

Sergeant Major Wayne Sneeden knew and understood that. Any other time and place, it would have been a simple matter for him to hide whatever fear he had. Now, however, his cursed phobia was threatening to throw all of his survival training out of the window.

Neither man spoke for a while, as there was nothing to say. Wayne closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. The last thing he wanted, or needed, at the moment was to pass out. Finally, after was seemed to be hours, the door to their cell banged open.

"Get them up!" A voice barked. "I want these filthy muties up and processed before lunch."

Rough hands dragged them to their feet. Both Wayne and Remy struggled against their captors out of principle, but to no avail. One of the guards finally struck the Cajun over the head, knocking him unconscious. Beach Head managed to bite one of his handlers out of retaliation and earned himself a short beating.

The ranger hid a groan as he and the other mutants were dragged out of their cell. His eyes blinked painfully as they were dragged out into an open area. His heart calmed down slightly, but his eyes still darted around. They were in some large compound, from what tiny bits he was able to see.

A guard struck him again and Beach Head rolled his head with the punch. Blood dripped down his lip. The minutes dragged by, but the small group of armed guards finally deposited their mutant prisoners in front of a tall man. The man pushed up his glasses and eyed them scornfully for a moment before calling for assistance.

Humiliation ensued while Beach Head was photographed, fingerprinted, and had his blood drawn for analysis. All the while, he swore at the men trying to catalogue their new prisoners.

"Ah'm U.S. Army, motherfuckers!" he bellowed. "Ah'm a ranger…a gawdamn Sergeant Major! When Ah get outa this contraption, Ah'm feedin' yer asses to…"

His body contorted when pain when the inhibitor collar around his neck suddenly activated. It felt as if every nerve in his body was on fire. Beach Head bit down on his lip to keep from screaming. His eyes watered slightly and his breathing came in ragged gasps, but he didn't scream. The ranger collapsed to the ground in a fit of agony.

The pain finally subsided. Wayne discovered that his muscles were limp. Even though he didn't understand the mechanics of what had happened, the ranger understood this much: the inhibitor collars also had the function of torturing misbehaving prisoners. His scowl darkened, but the ranger wasn't able to muster up more than that. Even his swears died on his numbed lips.

"Take them to block A147," the man with the glasses said, speaking to the guards. "And keep an eye on this one. I have a feeling he will be trouble."

"Understood," one of the soldiers replied. "Don't worry, Dr. Kischel, we have methods for dealing with troublesome mutants."

Beach Head found himself being dragged to another set of holding cells, but was unable to do anything about it. He glanced over at Remy, who was still unconscious. The ranger eyed his fellow prisoners. Two of them were women, one of whom appeared to be in her seventies. The third prisoner was a teenaged boy.

The guards finally deposited their prisoners into a holding cell, which contained several beds. The barred door clanged shut behind them. As soon as the door was closed, the restraints around Beach Head's arms and legs opened and released them. Rather than dropping to the floor, the restraints simply folded up and curled around his arms and legs into a set of metal bands.

The ranger launched himself at the barred door, but was shocked with electricity the moment he touched it. The guards mocked him, but Wayne ignored the pain as he stood up and glared through the bars.

"You'd better get used to it, mutie," one of the men sneered. "This is the nicest accommodations we have for your kind here. If you keep acting up, we'll put you in the 'Box'."

Beach Head watched them leave with a scowl. He silently stood there and studied his surroundings as best as he could. On the opposite side of the "hallway" was another line of cells, each filled to the brim with mutants. Each of the prisoners wore the same, drab grey uniform…probably of cheap clothing. Wayne guessed that he and the others would get their own uniforms shortly.

The ranger turned his head when he heard knocking on a nearby wall. Wayne listened for a moment before knocking his own fist against it. Someone knocked again, followed by a faint voice.

"Any one there?" a female voice asked.

"Who are you?" Beach Head asked, leaning close to the wall.

"A fellow prisoner," the woman answered. "Walk to the front of your cell so I can hear you better." Beach Head did as instructed, realizing that the woman was doing the same thing. The two prisoners stood at the front of their cells, separated by the wall between them.

"Where are we?" the ranger asked.

"An internment camp, underground by the looks of it," the woman answered roughly. "We've come to call this place 'Camp Dolores'." Camp Dolores. Beach Head knew enough Spanish to translate it as "the Camp of Sorrows."

"My name's Wayne Sneeden," the ranger finally answered. "But my codename is Beach Head."

"Codename?"

Beach Head hesitated. Should he reveal that he was a soldier? GI Joe was a secret unit, after all. Besides, he wasn't sure that a captured mutant would look too kindly upon a "government employee" at the moment. Finally, he decided to avoid all mention of his unit.

"Ah'm….a soldier," Beach Head replied. "Army. That's what my teammates call me both in the army and in…the X-Men." He figured that it couldn't hurt to mention the X-Men, especially if he wanted to make allies with his fellow prisoners.

There was a very long pause.

"You're an X-Man?" the woman finally asked. "You know Storm?" Beach Head blinked in surprise and considered how to respond. Was he really an X-Man? The ranger had never really considered himself one. However…he had been a student at the school, had been living there, had fought and trained with the X-Men as teammates, and had even trained some of the younger students in Wolverine's absence.

"Ah guess Ah am," Wayne admitted reluctantly. "Ah'm with a friend, name's Remy LeBeau. He's kinda unconscious at the moment though." Wait…did he just refer to LeBeau as a friend? Wayne supposed that at the moment, Remy LeBeau was the closest person to a friend in this place.

"LeBeau?" the woman responded sharply. "Gambit is there?"

Wayne turned his head to look at Gambit, who was starting to stir from his place on the floor. He wasn't sure if the mysterious woman was upset by the man's presence or simply surprised. Women were hard to read in general.

"Who are you?" Beach Head asked carefully.

"The name's Callisto. If you're an X-Man, I'm sure you've heard of me. Then again," the woman added. "I don't know your name, so you must be new."

Wayne turned that name over in his head. It was true, he didn't recognize the name. However, if what the woman claimed was true, then Gambit likely knew her. The ranger looked over at Remy again, who was finally starting to come to.

"Merde," the Cajun swore. "I feel like crap. Where de hell are we?" Gambit groaned slightly as he looked around their jail cell. There was a frown on his face. Wayne knelt next to him and helped him to sit up. Beach Head relayed what he had learned from the mysterious "Callisto."

Gambit's face widened in shock the moment he heard the name. The Cajun ignored his injuries and crawled towards the front of the cell. Remy LeBeau called out the woman's name, only to receive the response of:

"Shut the fuck up, Cajun, it's really me!"

"Callisto!" Gambit beamed happily. The Cajun looked pleased at the prospect of another familiar face. However, there was also a wary expression on the man's face that Beach Head couldn't quite decipher. Was it guilt? Fear? Wayne wasn't sure.

Whatever it was, he would pull it out of the man later. For now, it seemed that the two men had at least one ally in "Camp Dolores." The next step would be figuring out where the hell they were and how they could escape.

Wayne looked around at his tiny, cramped prison cell…which was also apparently hundreds of feet underground. He shuddered.

---

Cobra Headquarters

Bishop wearily opened his eyes. It felt as if they'd been glued shut. Painfully, and with great effort, he forced his eyelids apart and blinked a few times to clear his vision. The time traveler used his first few moments of consciousness to examine his situation.

He was in a laboratory of some type. His arms and legs had been restrained to a chair and his chest and head hurt like a mother fucker. There was also something around his neck. Unable to see it, Bishop tensed up his neck muscles and tried to feel it out. Since he also had the mutant ability of instinctively knowing where he was at all times, an ability that had now abandoned him, it could only be a mutant inhibitor collar.

"Finally awake, I see."

The mutant scowled when a bald man stepped into view. He'd had yet to meet Dr. Mindbender face to face, but he'd seen photos of the man. Bishop said nothing and continued to silently glare at Mindbender, who seemed content to chatter on.

"Zandar really did do a fair amount of damage to you, tsk," the Cobra scientist said. "Such a shame…I wouldn't expect that a non-powered Dreadnok could get the jump on a mutant, especially an X-Man." Bishop scowled again, though this time it was at himself and his carelessness. He'd allowed himself to get captured by Cobra.

Bishop wondered what had happened to the others. Short Fuze had been with him, so it was probable that Cobra had him in custody as well. As for Gambit and Beach Head…

He briefly recalled the single sentinel that had been after them before he'd run into Zandar. Were the two swamp rats in Cobra custody as well or had the sentinel gotten them? The X-Man pushed those thoughts away at the moment. He'd deal with them soon enough. At the moment, Bishop knew he couldn't do anything to help the others. He had to deal with his own situation first.

He was trapped in a Cobra laboratory. Bishop was also uncomfortably aware of the fact that Mindbender was connecting wires to some sort of helmet. The scientist placed the strange helmet on Bishop's head when he was finished and adjusted some straps. Bishop attempted to fight the man off, but the restraints were too strong.

"Even now he still has some fight in him," another voice stated. Bishop felt his blood chill when he recognized the coldly logical voice. He knew that voice, both from this time and his own time. It belonged to a man who had routinely taken mutants from the internment camps to experiment on them. The same man had often clashed with the X-Men of this era.

"Sinister," Bishop growled. The man in question came into view. His deathly pale face seemed an omen of evil. Perhaps it was, as the man was pretty much evil incarnate. Bishop wasn't sure why the man was with Cobra, but it wasn't much of a stretch. Cobra probably provided him with easy access to equipment and genetic material. As for what Cobra got out of the deal, that didn't take much imagination either. Sinister's expertise extended beyond genetics, so having both him and Dr. Mindbender on staff was an incentive.

Sinister's lips twitched up. The telepath had probably already read his mind. Bishop wasn't sure what the man was up to at the moment. The X-Man had a sinking feeling that he was about to participate in an experiment of some type.

"Where are my teammates?" he asked boldly, hoping to temporarily forestall any plans of experiments and to glean some information, however slight.

"None of that matters to you now, does it?" Mindbender asked, practically gloating. The Cobra scientist checked the helmet on Bishop's head a moment before his fingers began to tap at a keyboard. The bald man looked up briefly at Mr. Sinister, who was still standing in the same spot. There was an electronic pad in his hands.

"Have you finished the calibrations?" Sinister asked. Mindbender nodded his head. It seemed obvious to Bishop that Sinister was the one in command here, as the other man was showing physical signs of deference. At Sinister's command, the Cobra scientist placed another helmet on his own head.

"You should feel privileged, Mr. Bishop," Mindbender told him. "You are about to be the first official test subject for my new brainwave scanner. Mr. Sinister had kindly helped me to tweak Dr. Venom's original designs. This new one allows me to enter a subject's brain with a simulated version of telepathy."

Bishop had a few seconds to process that before an intense pain blossomed in his brain. The pain grew until his vision blurred and his ears buzzed with "white noise." Every so often he could barely hear Sinister or Mindbender murmur something.

Visions and sensations flooded into his brain as old memories were dredged up. Bishop once again found himself as an impoverished young child, wandering the streets until he was taken in briefly by a man named Witness. His time in the internment camps flashed by after that. He saw his grandmother and the death of his "grandfather." He was forced to watch his sister and the old man die again.

The pain increased as more memories of Seeker were suddenly dragged out. Bishop found himself reliving every moment and memory of the man he'd once known and respected. They were replaced by the memory of him saving Xamot during the battle of the Pit.

Bishop gasped when his mind was suddenly released. Sweat poured down his face and every inch of his body felt fatigued. His mind continued to hurt with a dull ache. It hurt to think. He blinked his eyes and slowly they began to clear. The loud noise in his ears began to gradually fade.

"Curious," he heard Sinister say. It was as though the man were talking through a filter. "It seems that my little experiment will have some interesting results…"

"…more than eighty years in the future…and it's a different timeline now," Mindbender responded. "Any number of things could have happened…."

"…curious nonetheless. This bears more investigation. Where is Xamot…?"

Bishop blacked out again.

---

Camp Dolores

Hours passed as they sat in the prison cell. According to Callisto, new prisoners were forced to stay in their cells on limited rations. After a period of ten days, depending upon how the captured mutants behaved, the guards used them as slave labor on general projects such as mining and construction work.

The Morlock had apparently been in her cell about a week so far. When Gambit questioned her, he discovered that Callisto had been attempting to make connections with the mutants closest to her cell. As for the internment camp, she didn't have much to report except what she'd heard as rumor.

The internment camp was underground, but no one knew where it was located. None of the guards wore military uniforms. Beach Head had made an educated guess that they were probably contract workers.

As for attempted escape attempts, Callisto hadn't heard of any successful ones yet.

Beach Head looked out through the barred gate of their prison cell. The ranger had situated himself near the front of the tiny space. Not only did this help alleviate some of the claustrophobia, which he was still struggling with, but it gave him an opportunity to keep watch and speak with Callisto. Wayne sat as close to the bars as he could without touching them, with his arms folded around his knees.

Gambit sat on the other side of him. Both men were by now clothed in cheap, gray clothing.

The ranger stared at his feet. He knew that it wasn't his fault that the sentinels had come after them, but he still felt guilty. After all, he'd been the one to insist on hunting after Zartan. Because of that, he and Remy were in a secret internment camp and who knew where Bishop and Short Fuze were. Perhaps they were alive and had escaped. Perhaps they had been captured.

The uncertainty of what had happened to his two other teammates gnawed at him.

"Not the best command decision Ah've ever made," Beach Head muttered under his breath. His Cajun cell mate looked over at him.

"Ain't yer fault, mon ami," Gambit replied quietly.

"Ain't it?" Beach replied back. The other man wagged a finger at him.

"Dis ain't de time to be worrin' about assignin' blame or what not," the X-Man chastised. "We're here now, grumpy bear, so we've got to figure out how to get out." Beach Head silently acknowledged that the man was right. It still didn't make things easier, however. He had failed to carry out both the objective of his self-assigned mission and to protect the men under his command.

He had failed.

Wayne glanced over at the other occupants of their cell, who were sitting at the other end. The two women and the teenaged boy were clearly terrified, but didn't know what to do. Beach Head and Gambit had been doing their best to act confident in order to keep them calmed down.

"We each sleep in shifts," Beach Head finally muttered to Gambit. "Ah can trust you to watch my back." It was funny how much things had changed these past few weeks. When he'd first met Remy LeBeau, the ranger hadn't trusted him any farther than he throw an angry ninja.

"Agreed," Gambit muttered back. "You want first shift?" Beach Head shook his head. He was too restless and on edge at the moment to sleep. The Cajun immediately made himself as comfortable as he could and drifted into a light sleep. Wayne watched him for a moment before focusing his attention back outside his cell. It was easier to do that than to look at the small, enclosed space of his tiny prison.

Beach Head sighed and continued his silent watch for the next few hours. The guards finally opened the prison and let them out long enough to visit the lavatory, under heavy guard. They were returned immediately to their prison. Gambit took the next watch while the ranger fitfully slept from a spot on the floor. Even though they had been provisioned with substandard cots, Wayne couldn't bring himself to lie down in the innermost part of the cell.

When he finally settled into a light sleep, the ranger was plagued by nightmares.

---

Cobra Headquarters

Buzzer was standing outside of the Cobra motor pool when Xamot found him. News of the attack on the Dreadnok compound had spread, as such things did on a base, as well as the fact that Zandar had brought back two prisoners. What wasn't well known yet, but which the Crimson twins were privy to, was that one of the prisoners had been discovered to be a GI Joe while the other was Bishop, a well-known time traveler. To say that Cobra Commander was pleased was an understatement, as he'd wanted to capture either Bishop or Cable for information on their future. Even if those futures never came to pass, Cobra Commander seemed to think that there was valuable information to be learned, whether it be futuristic technology or important persons to keep an eye on.

Xamot walked up next to Buzzer, who was currently wrapped up in a warm coat and smoking a cigarette. Snowflakes drifted around the man while a team of Cobra troops were currently working to de-ice a section of solar panels.

The Crimson Guardsman would admit that he wasn't quite sure why he was here in the first place. He'd been rebuilding a helicopter engine in the motor pool, which had turned into a project he was sharing with the more knowledgeable Weasel. Perhaps it was simply curiosity that had made him follow after the former Cambridge professor, now delinquent biker. He idly wiped some grease on his pants when he stopped next to the other man.

"What do you want?" Buzzer asked bluntly. The end of his cigarette butt glowed dimly while cold puffs of air and cigarette smoke drifted about. Xamot thought a moment before asking the first thing that came to his mind.

"How is Zartan?"

Buzzer gave him a slightly puzzled look before looking away again. The man seemed torn between ignoring the Crimson Guardsman and talking to him.

"Why do you even care?" the Dreadnok finally asked. "You've never given a damn before." Xamot hesitated a moment before answering. Why did he care? He brushed off the question. After all, he'd only asked because he hadn't known what else to say.

"I'm not sure," he replied honestly. "But why shouldn't I inquire about a fellow member of Cobra? Especially someone who is an asset to the organization?"

"Of course," Buzzer replied sardonically. "That's how you and your brother think, isn't it? Assets. Always assets and profit margins." The Crimson Guardsman didn't respond to that right away. In fact, he wasn't sure how to, as the Dreadnok wasn't incorrect.

"So do the Dreadnoks, in a way," Xamot finally replied. "Do we have enough money? Are we being paid what we're owed? Are our motorcycles in working order? Is there enough grape soda and donuts? How much profit do we have to lose to pay for repairs?"

"Okay, fine, point taken," Buzzer interrupted. Xamot allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction. He was surprised, however, when the other man unexpectedly rolled his eyes at him.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but you look kinda geeky when you do that," the blonde told him. Xamot gave him a perplexed look before asking what he "did." Buzzer shook his head and tapped his cigarette on the side of the wall.

"That," he replied, pointing at the Crimson Guardsman. "Seriously, I think Wilson's right. You've got an inner geek that's starting to come out." Xamot felt a flash of irritation, as he wasn't sure what exactly Buzzer was talking about. He hadn't done or said anything.

"Inner geek?" Xamot asked again, still surprised by the description. An actual, amused grin twitched on Buzzer's lips. The man blew out a slow puff of cigarette smoke before deciding he needed to spell it out for the Corsican.

"You and Weasel spent four hours watching Battlestar Gallactica last week," the Dreadnok pointed out. When Xamot was about to protest that it was either that or endure another round of Golden Girls with Deadpool, the blonde biker continued. "And the two of you had decided to take apart some computer hard drive…"

"Weasel was showing me how to do something," Xamot denied.

"Of course," the other man replied, still smirking. Xamot gave a frustrated sight, but was relieved when Buzzer didn't continue the topic. He wasn't exactly sure why the subject irked him. Perhaps, if he was willing to admit to it, it was simply because it was another sign that he was drifting away from Tomax.

"So how is he?" Xamot asked again after a moment. He wasn't sure if the Dreadnok would answer him. The conversation was going awkwardly enough as it was. Perhaps he should just leave.

"He's stabilized, but is going to require reconstructive surgery," Buzzer finally answered. "He also wants to use the plastic surgeon of his choice. Zartan's more conscious today too."

"That's…good," Xamot replied awkwardly. Why the hell was he out here anyway? It was freezing. It was true that he had been spending more time with Buzzer lately, but that had always been in the company of Deadpool or Weasel, who, if Xamot was ready to admit to it, he was starting to see as "friends." His brother wasn't exactly happy about any of it and was actively trying to discourage Xamot from interacting with any of them.

"Cigarette?" Buzzer suddenly asked, holding up a carton. Xamot nearly declined it, but thought better of it. This was the first remotely friendly gesture that the Dreadnok had ever given him. The Crimson Guardsman finally accepted it reluctantly.

Xamot tried to ignore the vile taste as he lit up the paper wrapped cancer stick, but he still coughed when he blew out a puff of smoke. His stomach felt slightly nauseous. The Corsican figured that he must have looked ill, because he could sense that Buzzer was highly amused.

"What's the matter?" the other man taunted. "Doesn't it meet your expensive tastes?" Xamot bit back a groan, but took another puff. He suddenly felt rather juvenile for not wanting to show he hated tobacco, but was going to smoke it anyway rather than lose face in front of the Dreadnok.

"Tomax actually enjoys cigarettes, or at least he used to," Xamot told him. "He used to smoke when we were in the Legion, but had quit because I didn't like it." Buzzer replied with a 'Hmm', but said nothing else. Silence enveloped the two men as neither knew what else to say. The snow continued to fall as they puffed on their cigarettes. Xamot finally gave up on his and tossed it onto the ground.

"Poker tonight?" Buzzer finally asked roughly after several minutes of silence. Xamot sensed through his limited empathy that the other man was struggling to find something to say as well. The Crimson Guardsman nodded at him. Inspiration struck him a moment later.

"My place?" he asked. The other man gave him an incredulous look.

"Your place" Buzzer asked, stunned. Xamot nodded at him again.

"Zartan had told my brother that he wanted to use the poker games as a location to talk quietly," he pointed out. "But there's still too much potential for unwanted eyes and ears to eavesdrop. Mine and Tomax's quarters are at least soundproof."

"And that won't be suspicious in itself?" the Dreadnok asked. "Someone could be listening now. Besides, you really want the Dreadnoks in your place? Your brother will flip….." Buzzer suddenly paused at that thought before a sudden grin lit up his face. "Wait….that's exactly why we should do it."

"Uh…" Xamot hadn't actually been counting on all the Dreadnoks and he certainly didn't want to antagonize his twin any more than he already was, even if unintentionally.

"What about just a few of us...like us, Weasel, Wilson, and Zandar?" he suggested instead. "We can still do the main poker game with everyone and then a few of us can go back to my place for more 'intelligent' conversation."

Buzzer mulled that over, not quite convinced. However, Xamot could tell that he was at least somewhat interested in the plan. Maybe if he pushed the man a little more.

"Besides…." The Crimson Guardsman continued, "Are you telling me that you'd pass up the opportunity for a more 'intellectual' level of conversation that doesn't consist of grape soda and donuts?" Xamot hoped that his guess was correct. As much as Buzzer pretended to be the same as the other Dreadnoks, it still had to be maddening to be surrounded by men who were barely literate at the high school level.

"Intelligent conversation?" Buzzer finally asked. "With Wade Wilson there?" Xamot shrugged and pointed out that Deadpool would invite himself along anyway. The other man conceded the point. After a few more moments, the Dreadnok finally accepted the invitation, even "if only to piss off Tomax."

Xamot finally left the Dreadnok to smoke in peace. He was surprised at himself for the invitation and was now somewhat regretting it. However, the Crimson Guardsman knew he couldn't retract it without looking bad. If there was a part of him that was also excited at the prospect of company and leisure time, Xamot rationalized that it was simply that his recent stress was searching for an outlet.

He returned to the motor pool and found that Weasel was now there. The two men worked together for a short time and Xamot told him about the poker game. The younger man gave him a thumbs up sign before opening his computer to show Xamot some new schematic.

The Corsican eventually cleaned up his tools and left, as he had important business to attend to. Extensive Enterprises was currently setting up a new front company for Cobra. He and Tomax were also still dealing with the fallout from the Muir Island fiasco. Cobra Commander hadn't quite forgiven them for the mission failing and his son escaping, so the twins were trying to get back into his good graces again.

Xamot was surprised, and a little unnerved, however, when Mr. Sinister telepathically contacted him and ordered him to the detention area 'on Cobra Commander's urgent request.' He reluctantly switched directions. Dread built up in his stomach as he contemplated another encounter with Mr. Sinister.

He honestly wasn't sure what to think about the revelation that Sinister was responsible for his and Tomax's personalities splitting. If what Zartan had heard was true, then Xamot had essentially been living under Tomax's shadow for years and hadn't been able to independently develop as "himself." At the same time, the changes frightened him. Had Sinister done him a favor in a roundabout way, or had he cursed the two brothers?

Tomax was his best friend and his twin brother…and the only family that Xamot had ever had. He didn't want to jeopardize their relationship in anyway. At the same time, however, he was enjoying some of the new developments.

His mind turned back to Sinister. The man was a walking time bomb. Favor or curse, Sinister was manipulating both twins and Mindbender with ease. Who knew what else the man was up to?

What if Sinister was lying to him and Cobra Commander didn't actually need him in the detention center? What if it was simply a ruse to draw Xamot into some other "experiment?" The Crimson Guardsman wondered briefly if he should call Deadpool for backup, seeing as Sinister's telepathy didn't seem to have any effect on the maniac. He dismissed his thought a moment later. Even though he was starting to see Wade Wilson as a friend, he also wasn't about to go crawling to him for protection when he should be able to protect himself.

The mutant passed through the entrance to the detention center and headed towards the most secure section. Cobra Commander had decided to keep their two newest prisoners under heavy guard when they weren't needed by Sinister and Mindbender. He placed his fingers on a pad and waited while the sensors completed a finger scan. The door slid open and Xamot walked past two armed guards.

There were several secure cell blocks ahead of him. Two armed guards stood in front of each cell that was currently occupied. Xamot looked around, but only saw that Short Fuze was in his cell. The Joe glared at him from the inside of his confinement and Xamot could feel the anger and hate. A mutant inhibitor collar blinked around his neck. Telepathic scans had confirmed that Short Fuze's mutation probably didn't warrant a collar, but precautions were taken anyway. Xamot looked away. His stomach churned slightly, but he chalked it up to nervousness about Sinister. His hand unconsciously touched his own neck as he looked around.

Bishop was absent, which meant he must currently be with the two scientists. Xamot wondered why he'd been called to the detention center, especially since neither Sinister nor Mindbender were present. The Crimson Guardsman sighed and decided that he'd wait at least five minutes and if he heard nothing else from the men, he would leave.

He mentally flipped through his to-do list for the day until his mind returned to Bishop, who had been on his mind recently. The time traveler had inexplicably saved his life at the Pit and Xamot still couldn't figure out why the other man had done it.

"Why?" Bishop demanded. "Why didn't you shoot?"

"I…" Xamot stared in confusion at the larger man. He should have been dead, why had the man saved his life?

"I don't know," the Crimson Guardsman finally answered. He felt sick to his stomach. Xamot didn't understand why he hadn't been able to shoot a downed and unarmed enemy. He also couldn't explain his sense of helplessness and how futile all of the fighting suddenly seemed.

"Where did you get your scar?" Bishop asked. Shock gripped him again, but the still stunned Xamot didn't feel that there was any need to lie about it.

"Algeria," he answered. A strange expression crossed the other man's face. He seemed…both relieved and disappointed? That seemed to be the mix of emotions that Xamot was sensing from him. Whatever the X-Man was thinking, he went on to order Xamot to stay out of the fighting if he couldn't shoot. Still stunned, Xamot finally asked, "Why?"

The other man hesitated before he opened his mouth to answer. However, Tomax decided to pick that moment to intervene. The elder twin pulled Bishop away from his brother and threw him a group of Joes. Xamot never got his answer.

Maybe he could get an answer now, though. Xamot looked at his watch and found that several minutes had passed. Feeling decidedly irked now, the Crimson Guardsman called Mindbender on the radio link and demanded to know what he was waiting for. An amused scientist "apologized" to him and requested that he wait a few more minutes. Xamot sighed and put away the radio. Five more minutes. Five more minutes and then he was gone.

"Coworker problems?" a voice jeered. "Must suck….of course, I wouldn't expect any less from Cobra." Xamot turned his head to see that Short Fuze was standing up now and glaring at him through the cell's force field. The two Cobra guards glared at the Joe and then looked warily at Xamot. They didn't seem sure if they should shut up the Joe or let him speak. As to be expected, they let the ranking Cobra in the room make the decision.

"You could say that," Xamot told him mildly. He wasn't keen on shutting the man up just yet. Perhaps he could pull some useful information out of him. At the very least, it was something to occupy his time until Mindbender or Sinister showed up.

"Say what?" Short Fuze continued snidely. "That you don't expect any less from Cobra either?" Xamot felt his back stiffen slightly. That hadn't been what he'd intended to say. He'd been responding to the 'coworker problems' part. Xamot mulled over his response. If he shut the Joe up, he might make it look like the man had struck a nerve. If he responded verbally or ignored him, it might embolden the soldier as well. Xamot suddenly realized that he should have just ignored the man to begin with.

"And you're telling me that you don't have 'coworker trouble' in GI Joe?" Xamot decided to ask instead. He looked at his watch. Four more minutes. If there was no sign of a Cobra scientist in the detention center within the next four minutes, he was gone.

"As if I'd tell you anything," the other man retorted, answering Xamot's question without having intended to. The Crimson Guardsman finally decided to give the Joe his full attention for the moment.

"Your government just passed mutant registration and there is high amount of discrimination of mutants anyway," Xamot pointed out. "I highly doubt that everything is flowers and roses in GI Joe." 'Flowers and roses', that was new. Xamot had never used that phrase before. "At least Cobra is accepting of mutants."

Well, except for the fact that Cobra was secretly working with the Jugglers on the sentinel program. The hypocrisy suddenly struck the Crimson Guardman. Was he really helping mutantkind by supporting such tactics? Xamot had rationalized it before that it was necessary to draw mutants towards Cobra. But…Extensive Enterprises had also recently created a contracting company to rescue and recruit mutants directly from the internment camps, wasn't that something?

Never mind the fact that Cobra was secretly working with the American government to run the internment camps…

Xamot pushed down a sudden sense of misgiving, which he didn't understand. He looked back at his watch. Three minutes.

"Accepting of mutants?" the Joe retorted. "You're a terrorist organization. Sure, maybe you guys work with mutants versus Magneto's mutants only group. That doesn't change the fact though that you guys are a threat to society. Hell, you guys assassinated Moira MacTaggert. That doesn't sound 'pro-mutant' to me."

To be truthful, Xamot wasn't in disagreement about that. He, Tomax, and the Baroness had fought that particular plan of Cobra Commander's. Even though it had worked to create discord and draw more mutants to Cobra, it had also meant killing one of the world's leading scientists on the Legacy Virus. Cobra or not, the disease didn't care about organizational boundaries. The twins and the Baroness were just as much at risk as other mutants.

In fact, all potential mutant recruits for Cobra had to be screened for the Legacy Virus. There might not be a cure yet, but the disease could at least be detected.

But what could he say to Short Fuze though? That it was wrong? That he didn't agree with it? Xamot knew that he couldn't agree with the enemy, even if only that other people would overhear him and that it would get back to Cobra Commander.

Fortunately, however, the unexpected arrival of a loudmouth mercenary saved him the trouble of responding. Xamot nearly jumped when Deadpool suddenly popped up next to him. He was starting to suspect that Wade enjoyed getting that reaction out of him. Loudmouth or not, the other man was nearly a ninja.

"Dude! Xay, we're playing poker at your place tonight?" Deadpool asked. "That is so awesome. Weas and I are bringing pizza and beer. Is Tomax going to be there or is Mr. Stick up his Ass going to be out?"

"Hi Wade," Xamot replied, both relieved by the distraction and surprised by the man's appearance. "As for Tomax…uh….I haven't told him yet." Deadpool blinked at him a moment before bursting into laughter. The mercenary gave him a friendly slap across the shoulders.

"What are you doing here?" Xamot asked him.

Deadpool grinned at him from underneath the black and red mask. The Crimson Guardsman never knew what the man was thinking. Wilson somehow seemed immune to even empathic scans. When Xamot had asked about it once, Deadpool had called it his "Plot Shield," whatever that meant. The Crimson Guardsman figured that the real reason had something to do with the man's insanity.

"I came because you wanted me here," Wade Wilson replied, whistling innocently. "I read the author's rough draft, dude, you think I don't know what she writes?" Deadpool slapped a confused Xamot across the shoulder. What the hell was the man talking about? Xamot pushed away Wilson's newest diatribe, figuring that his sanity wasn't worth pondering it.

"Aww….I'm so touched you wanted to call me for backup," Wilson continued, still confusing Xamot as to how the man had known. Deadpool held up a fist to him. "Here dude, I think this calls for a bro fist."

Xamot stared at the fist in incomprehension.

"What?" he asked cluelessly. Wilson smacked his forehead and muttered a curse. Deadpool grabbed one of Xamot's hands and held it up to his.

"Xay! You're hopeless!" Deadpool responded dramatically. "You don't know what a dap is? Argh!" Comprehension slowly leaked into Xamot, who wasn't exactly on the up and up of American street culture. However, he'd seen pictures of this "dap." Not really sure what else to do, Xamot ignored the fact that Short Fuze and the two Cobra guards were gaping at them and tapped his fist to Wilson's fist. Deadpool grinned and proceeded to walk Xamot through a "dap", which consisted of a combination of a fist bump, a handshake, and a half "man hug," as Wilson called it.

Xamot secretly enjoyed the fact that their "audience" was completely stunned. The look on their faces was priceless.

The doors swished open and the Crimson Guardsman turned his head, expecting to see Sinister or Mindbender. Instead, it was Weasel. Xamot raised an eyebrow. Neither Wilson nor Weasel had the access code to get into the detention center. He wasn't surprised by Deadpool, as it was pretty much known now that Wade Wilson went wherever the hell he wanted to go. Weasel, on the other hand, had the ability to break the codes, but had never done anything to threaten his position in Cobra.

"You're not supposed to be in here, Jack," Xamot told him. The gangly, young man pushed up his glasses and pointed out that Deadpool wasn't supposed to be there either. The Crimson Guardsman gave up at that since the other man had a valid point.

"What're you guys up to?" Weasel asked.

"I taught Xamot how to do a dap," Deadpool responded proudly.

"Really?"

"Yes," The Crimson Guardsman replied dryly. "I'm really moving up in the world. My next trick will be breakdancing in the mess hall."

"Really?" Wade asked hopefully.

"No," Xamot stated emphatically, rolling his eyes. He'd shoot himself in the foot first before he did that.

"Bastard, way to get my hopes up."

Xamot rolled his eyes again and ignored Deadpool for a moment while he looked at Weasel. He asked the young man what he was even doing in the detention center. Weasel grinned at him a moment before he excitedly began to explain a new project he had come up with. The Crimson Guardsman wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but he was now spending much of his time with the young Jack Hammer. If they weren't taking apart bits of machinery, they were discussing computer programs or some television series that Weasel was fond of.

Deadpool had come to the conclusion that they were both "geeks" when he'd come across them tearing apart a computer hard drive while watching Battlestar Gallactica. Xamot, however, continued to deny any such label.

"You're making a lightsaber?" the Crimson Guardsman finally asked, having finally realized what Weasel's "project" was. Normally, he wouldn't have cared about the project beyond its potential as a weapon and a marketing ploy. Now because of his association with the younger science fiction buff, Xamot found himself surprisingly interested in the project.

"Yep, want to help?" Weasel replied cheerfully. Xamot's lips quirked up into an unexpected grin.

"Geek! I called it!" Deadpool yelled.

"I'm not a geek," the Crimson Guardsman replied automatically. "Besides, building a lightsaber is a much better use of time than mooning over Bea Arthur."

"You take that back! Mooning over Bea Arthur is time well spent!"

The doors to the detention center swished open again, but Xamot was too busy talking with Weasel to pay any attention to who it was. The vexed sigh and immediate bark of disapproval from the Baroness made the two men jump.

"What the hell is going on in here?" she demanded. Deadpool immediately appeared at her side and began attempting to flirt with her. Baroness paused a moment in her tirade and glared at the mercenary. She lit Wilson's costume on fire and went back to shouting at the other two men.

"Xamot!" Baroness yelled, having to raise her voice to be heard about Deadpool's screeching. "What the hell are Weasel and Deadpool doing in here? They don't have clearance to be in the detention center!"

"They let themselves in!" Xamot protested. "You think I can stop them?" Instead of admitting to letting himself in, Weasel took one long look at the fire engulfed Deadpool and winced. The young man immediately stepped behind Xamot, as if the older man would somehow protect him from the female mutant.

"You're the ranking Cobra in the room," Baroness snapped. "What do you think?"

Deadpool ran howling out of the detention center, still on fire. The stink of burnt flesh began to fill the room. Xamot frowned. He knew that Wade would heal from it, but it still didn't change the fact that he was on fire. As obnoxious and unwanted that Deadpool's flirting had been, it hadn't been enough to warrant being turned into a human fireball.

"I think that I don't like the fact that you lit my friend on fire," Xamot snapped back angrily. He wasn't exactly sure why he even cared. A mere month ago and he would have shrugged his shoulders or even laughed. Now, however…

"He'll heal, what does it matter?" the Baroness scoffed. "The lunatic should learn to leave me alone."

Xamot stared at her a moment. He heard Deadpool shriek and curse again in pain. Making his decision, the Crimson Guardsman pushed Anastasia DeCobray roughly out of the way and took off after Wade Wilson. Weasel followed closely after his heels. By the time they found Wade, he had already managed to find a fire extinguisher and douse himself with it.

"Fuckin' bitch," Deadpool swore darkly. The mercenary was sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall. "That's it; I'm not being nice to her anymore." His uniform was largely destroyed. Xamot eyed the man's skin, which had been burnt to a crisp. The healing factor began to kick in, but the Crimson Guardsman couldn't begin to imagine how much pain the man was in. His limited empathy felt some of it, but Xamot knew that it was only the tip of the iceberg.

"Hey Wade, let's get you to the infirmary," Weasel suggested, bending down next to Deadpool. The young man looked slightly nauseous at the sight of Wilson's burns. The mercenary waved him off.

"My healing factor will take care of it," Wade replied. "I don't need to go to the damned docs."

"Then let's get you back to your room, at least," Xamot suggested. He put an arm around the mercenary's back and helped him to stand up. Flakes of blackened skin fell to the floor. Wade seemed to only be about a quarter healed, which meant that the damage was deeper than it looked. Weasel stepped around to the other side of Deadpool and put his arm around the man for support. Slowly, they began to help the mercenary back to his room. Deadpool was unusually quiet as they made their way down the halls of Cobra headquarters.

Xamot was certain that Mindbender and Sinister would throw a fit that he wasn't waiting around for them to grace the detention center with their overinflated presence. He didn't give a damn though. Whatever the reason for calling him, it couldn't be that important, especially when they hadn't seen fit to tell him why.

If anything, it was probably just another attempt on their part to play mind games with one of the twins.

Deadpool was starting to walk better when they neared his personal quarters. The mercenary looked grotesque underneath his mask and the rapidly disappearing injuries weren't helping. Xamot, however, ignored that fact as he and Weasel continued to help Wade down the hall.

When they finally reached his room, Weasel opened the door for him. Xamot helped Deadpool inside and found a chair for the man. The mercenary finally spoke up again once he was sitting down. His voice was much more subdued than usual.

"Thanks guys."

Xamot wasn't sure what to say to that. It was so rare for him to be thanked about anything. He finally just nodded to Wade while Weasel fetched a glass of water. Deadpool looked nearly healed now. The Crimson Guardsman wasn't sure if he should stay or go. Finally, Xamot just asked Wade what he wanted.

"I'll be fine," Deadpool replied. "Don't you have stuff to do anyway? Like meeting with the sexually ambiguous scientists?"

"They can go to hell," Xamot replied. "I didn't want to meet with them anyway." Wade grinned a moment before waving him off.

"Go on dude, I'm just going to watch some Golden Girls…unless you want to watch some with me?" Deadpool asked hopefully. The Crimson Guardsman couldn't quite bring himself to say no.

"Just one episode," Xamot sighed. "After that, I need to get back to work."

---

Short Fuze watched with curiosity while Xamot took off after the fleeing Deadpool. The unknown young man that had been present took off after them while the Baroness watched the whole escapade with a look of surprise. The soldier shared some of her shock, as he hadn't expected one of the Crimson twins to act concerned about another person's wellbeing.

"Hmmff," the Baroness sniffed. "I hardly see what the fuss is about." The woman put the incident out of her mind as she looked around the detention center. Her eyes settled on Short Fuze briefly before she looked at the two guards.

"Where is Bishop?" she asked. The guards answered that the man was with Sinister and Mindbender. Short Fuze uneasily listened to the exchange. His companion had been gone for several hours. While he didn't know anything about this Sinister, he knew that Mindbender was sure to be doing horrible things to the captured X-Man.

Short Fuze knew that his turn was likely to be next. The telepaths had already scanned him, but he doubted that it was the end of his ordeal.

He didn't know how much time had passed when the mysterious Sinister showed up with Dr. Mindbender and Bishop. The dark skinned mutant was barely walking. A couple of heavily built guards were supporting the X-Man as he walked. Short Fuze watched as they deposited him into a nearby cell and activated the force field barrier.

"Where is Xamot?" Mindbender demanded, glaring at the Cobra guards. "We told him to be here." The guards in front of Short Fuze's cell looked at each other uneasily before explaining what had happened. Mindbender swore under his breath. However, the pale faced scientist, who Short Fuze now knew was called Mr. Sinister, said nothing.

"I guess he got tired of waiting for you," Short Fuze sneered at them. At the moment, his mouth was the only weapon he had. He might not be able to hurt anyone with it, but at least he could piss people off. "You shouldn't make a date without telling your boyfriend why."

Mindbender scowled and threw a piece of equipment at the forcefield. It bounced harmlessly off of the barrier. Short Fuze laughed at him.

"Oooo….that hurt so bad," the Joe taunted. "Do it again, maybe someone will film it and I can watch the replay later." Mindbender's face darkened into a deep shade of red. Short Fuze continued to grin. He knew he was going to pay for the insults, but that didn't prevent him from dishing them out.

"What's the matter?" Short Fuze added. "You know, I thought Xamot and the other two were entertainment, but you're gold, Mindbender. I would suggest a new hair treatment though. I don't think prime time television likes their comedy stars to be bald headed morons."

"ENOUGH!" Mindbender ranted. Spit flew from his mouth while he waved wildly at the blonde mortar soldier. "Guards! Take this fool to my lab! He can be the 'comedy star' of his very own show!"

The guards led him roughly to Mindbender's lab. Short Fuze endured the fists they rained on him, as he knew that the worst was yet to come. There was a satisfied smirk on Mindbender's face while the Joe was strapped into a strange chair. All Short Fuze knew for the next two hours was sheer agony.

When he was finally led back to his cell, the Joe lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. When he finally came to enough that he could speak, he began the whole process all over again.

"So…" Short Fuze weakly asked the guards. "How many boyfriends has Mindbender gone through with his pain fetish? Or does he prefer animals?"

---

Cobra Headquarters

"I understand that there was a...slight disagreement in the detention center, Dr. Mindbender."

Dr. Mindbender shifted uneasily in Cobra Commander's presence. The terrorist leader seemed to be in an irksome mood at the moment and the scientist was none too keen to have been interrupted in his work for whatever rant the man was about to go one.

"I wasn't involved in that," the scientist replied quickly.

"I understand that you and Sinister had insisted that Xamot meet you in the detention center…for reasons that neither of you saw fit to share with him," Cobra Commander replied sharply. "I don't normally care about quarrels between my underlings…however, this occurred in front of prisoners."

"I wasn't…" Mindbender started to protest again, however he was cut off. Cobra Commander leaned in closer to him. The man was clearly in one of his moods.

"Xamot would not have been there in the first place if you hadn't insisted that he be there," the Cobra leader reprimanded him. "Which meant that Deadpool wouldn't have been there to have been set on fire by the Baroness." Cobra Commander leaned back in his chair. "Understand this, Mindbender. While such a thing actually amuses me….I hired Deadpool to work for us. He's good at his work…but he's fickle. I don't want to jeopardize his employment by Cobra or to do anything to set him against us."

"The Baroness set him on fire, not me!" Mindbender finally shouted, having finally lost his patience. "Besides, he has healing factor anyway, so I don't see what the problem is. Why did you call me in here?"

Cobra Commander studied him for a long moment. Dr. Mindbender shifted his feet again. He uneasily waited for the man to say something. Finally, the terrorist leader chuckled darkly.

"Why did you call Xamot to the detention center?" Cobra Commander finally asked bluntly. "Does it have something to do with….whatever you're working on?"

Mindbender felt his heart skip a beat. It was true that he and Mr. Sinister were working on a secret project, one that they had gone to great lengths to hide from Cobra Commander. After all, the man hadn't taken well to Serpentor. It was a logical conclusion to assume that he would approve even less of a genetic creation that was created from DNA of Serpentor, Jean Grey, Scott Summers, and other mutants.

"Project, Cobra Commander?" he asked uneasily. His mind raced for an alternative suggestion. "Ah, you mean the improved brainwave scanner, do you not?" After all, that was a project he was working on, even if not the only one. Mindbender continued on with his explanation, hoping that the other man would buy it. After all, a truth made the most convenient lie.

"Mr. Sinister and I tested in on the X-Man, Bishop, per your request to scan him for information," Mindbender continued. "We discovered that he knows Xamot in his future….and in fact even considered him to be a mentor or a grandfather figure. We also tested the scanner on Short Fuze."

An eye raised beneath Cobra Commander's cloth mask. Mindbender held his breath and waited. He slowly let it out when the terrorist leader considered that before crinkling his eyes in amusement.

"Most intriguing, Mindbender," the terrorist leader finally said. "I assume then that this is why you summoned Xamot to the detention center?" Mindbender nodded. Cobra Commander seemed amused now. After asking him a few more questions, the terrorist leader waved him off.

"Return to your work, Mindbender, and keep me informed," Cobra Commander ordered. "Perhaps we can use Xamot against Bishop, if necessary." Mindbender offered his praise at such a wise idea, perfectly aware that he was brownnosing. The scientist finally rushed off, leaving just Cobra Commander.

The Cobra leader sat still for a few seconds, seemingly alone in the room. After a few moments had passed, a man materialized next to him. He was rather tall, with sharp green eyes and raven hair. The man leaned casually against Cobra Commander's chair.

"He's lying, of course," the man told him with amusement. Cobra Commander turned his head slightly.

"About Xamot?" he asked. The other man grinned and flicked a piece of lint off of his business suit.

"Oh no, he told the 'truth' on that," the visitor replied. "He can lie reasonably well, that one. Reasonably for a fool of a mortal, at any rate. I'd be careful of his real project though…the one that he isn't telling you about."

"So you've warned me," Cobra Commander said, sounding annoyed now. "Which, of course, you continually refuse to tell me anything about." The terrorist leader finally pointed an angry finger at the man. "I know you love your games, 'Mr. Kilo,' but I am hardly in the mood for them now."

"Now, now," Mr. Kilo replied mirthfully. The thin man hardly fit the hefty image that his name implied. "After all that I've helped you with, do you think I'd leave my associate high and dry? I am responsible for the fact that Sinister can't read your mind, you know. I believe I also mentioned the fact that the GI Joe known as Short Fuze had spotted us while dream walking."

Cobra Commander gave a vexed sigh, but gave no other response. He knew that he had no power over his mysterious associate and it irked him. However, 'Mr. Kilo' was too much of an asset to lose or have turn against him. For whatever reason that the man had originally sought Cobra Commander out, the terrorist leader knew that the continued assistance would only last so long as the thin man was amused.

"As you were," the terrorist leader finally replied. "Keep me informed." The thin figure of Mr. Kilo bowed mockingly at him.

"Of course, dear leader. Until next time."

The man vanished, leaving just the sole figure of Cobra Commander to brood silently.

---

The Crimson twins' quarters

Tomax wasn't quite sure what to make of the intruders. His brother hadn't even warned him of a certain poker event until an hour before its occurrence. The last hour had been spent with Xamot quietly trying to avoid his brother's wrath or trying to plead his case. For his brother's sake, Tomax finally managed to tone down his irritation. Their relationship felt as if it were starting to deteriorate. The older twin wasn't about to make it worse, no matter how angry he was about…about what?

His brother's changes? The fact that other people were beginning to make their way into Xamot's inner social life? It had always just been the two of them. The brothers had never needed, nor wanted anyone else in their lives. Now, however, Tomax was beginning to feel a bit threatened and jealous, if he cared to admit it. Right now, he wasn't quite able to sort out all of his feelings.

He was sure, however, that he wasn't pleased to find Buzzer, Zandar, Deadpool, and Weasel invading his personal space. The men were now gathered in the living room of the twins' Cobra living quarters. The two expensive couches had been pushed back to make room for a card table. A pile of pizza boxes and a box of beer, courtesy of Wade Wilson, were sitting on an end table. Tomax tried, unsuccessfully, to not glare at the loudmouthed mercenary and his skinny, weasel of a friend. Xamot shot him a warning look, so the elder brother fixed his glare on the wall instead.

"…so anyway," Deadpool chattered on, oblivious to the tension between the two brothers. "Siryn and I totally busted this dude's…"

"Wait, wait," Buzzer interrupted, waving a hand. "Who the hell is Siryn?"

"My girlfriend," Wade Wilson replied smugly. The noise level in the living room suddenly dropped as everyone gaped at the mercenary. Even Tomax couldn't help staring in disbelief.

"You…have a girlfriend?" Xamot asked tentatively, breaking the silence. Deadpool nodded. An astonished Xamot shared a look of shock with Buzzer. The blonde Dreadnok shook his head in disbelief, unable to believe the mercenary's statement.

"I think he's lying," Zandar replied. Buzzer, meanwhile, was stating emphatically that he refused to believe that Wade Wilson had a real girlfriend, who wasn't a blow up doll or a figment of his imagination, until he saw some evidence.

"Dude, I'm not lying!" Deadpool denied. The mercenary turned to look at his friend, Jack Hammer, and gestured towards the other men. "Weasel! Back me up here!"

"She's real," Weasel replied. "I've met her." The young man was immediately peppered with questions. A frustrated Deadpool finally pulled up an image on his phone and showed it to the small crowd of disbelievers. Xamot, Buzzer, and Zandar peered at the phone and began to swear at Wilson.

"No way," Buzzer denied. "I refuse to believe that Wilson scored a girl like her. It's photoshopped."

"It's not photoshopped!"

"Brother…." Tomax sighed, reaching out through their still present, but weakened, telepathic link. He was going to regret this, but curiosity had gotten the better of him. His brother gave him a knowing look and shared a mental image of Wade Wilson's picture. Tomax raised an eyebrow at the image of Deadpool posing with a beautiful red haired woman.

"I am not believing this," Buzzer continued to rant over Deadpool's protestations. "I'm not believing that she is your girlfriend until I meet her."

"That can be arranged!" Wilson retorted. "This Saturday, if she's free. Maybe we can meet up with a few of my other friends too." The other men looked at each other and shrugged. Tomax said nothing, as he had zero intention of getting involved. He felt a twinge of something when Xamot agreed and shot him a guilty look in the process.

The argument over whether or not this Siryn actually existed died down enough that the men finally began their poker game. Tomax loitered nearby, uncertain if he should stick around for any potential, important conversation…after all, he and Zartan had originally agreed that the poker games were a good opportunity to share Intel and plan, or if he should lock himself in his study until the game was over. It didn't help that Xamot sent him a pleading look to not leave.

His brother wanted him involved. Perhaps that was the worst part of it. However, Tomax didn't want to be involved in a crass poker game, especially not with their present company.

Tomax finally settled for sitting near enough to listen to the others, but far enough away to make it clear that he wasn't involved. He opened a newspaper and began reading through the business section. The others relaxed and settled into the game, often bantering or bickering with each other. Sometimes the table would erupt with laughter. Every time that happened, something unpleasant gnawed at the inside of Tomax's stomach.

"You could be involved if you wanted to, brother," Xamot silently told him. "We can…"

"I have no interest in being involved," Tomax snapped back telepathically. His brother said nothing else, but Tomax could tell that his twin felt hurt for some reason. Zandar seemed to pick up that something was bothering the younger twin and quietly asked him about it, but Xamot brushed it off.

Finally, however, Deadpool decided to try to involve Tomax.

"So, when is 'Mr. Stick Up His Ass' going to play?" Wilson asked loudly. "We can use another player."

"Go to hell," Tomax snapped back.

"Touché," Buzzer muttered. The blonde gave him a considering look and then glanced at Xamot, who was trying not to look in his brother's direction. Tomax wondered if the man was going to say something as well, but the Dreadnok merely shrugged and ignored Tomax. The elder twin hid a sigh and went back to trying to read the newspaper. For some reason, however, he couldn't focus on any of the words.

"Hah!" Deadpool shouted. "I win, losers!"

The others demanded a new game. Cards were reshuffled and the poker chips were redistributed. The poker game began anew as the men played long into the night. Tomax refused to join in, but he continued to listen to the conversation before he finally had enough. He folded up his newspaper and debated heading off to bed.

"While we're here," Xamot suddenly said. "Perhaps we should discuss some things. Our walls are sound proof." Tomax looked over at his brother, as did everyone else. Buzzer paused in the middle of lighting up his cigarette.

"What kind of things?" the Dreadnok asked. Xamot indicated his head towards Deadpool.

"How about the Baroness setting Wade on fire? What's to stop her from doing that to any of us? Hell, Sinister's been screwing with us and Mindbender," the scarred twin pointed out. "And Zartan is…well…not exactly in good shape at the moment. I think we have plenty to discuss."

Now that the conversation had moved in a more reasonable direction, Tomax moved closer to the table. None of the other men spoke for several long seconds. Perhaps they were wondering why Xamot had even brought the subject up or why it was a concern to them.

"You do have a point," Zandar finally admitted. "None of us really have a defense against them. Even your powers," he added, looking at both twins, "are hardly comparable to the more powerful mutants on base."

"Zartan did have his misgivings about going after Fury," Buzzer admitted as well. "That wasn't a mission that he'd wanted to go on and now our base in the Everglades is even destroyed."

"That's another thing," Tomax finally said, entering the conversation for the first time. "The sentinels had gone after one of your Dreadnoks, correct? I was under the impression that all mutants associated with Cobra were supposed to be protected against the sentinels."

Silence again. Xamot shifted uneasily in his seat, being the only other mutant in the room. This was a subject that the twins had privately discussed between them. They hadn't yet voiced it with anyone else.

"We knew he was a mutant too," Buzzer finally said, referring to the mutant Dreadnok that had been attacked. "His information should have been in the sentinel database to prevent him from being targeted. Maybe it's not…"

"In the system?" Weasel finished. The young man shuffled his cards briefly and pushed up his glasses a moment before continuing. "If you guys want, it should be a simple matter for me to hack into the database and make sure that Cobra mutants are protected against the sentinels."

Both twins nodded their heads at that, as surprisingly, did everyone else in the room. Even though Zandar, Buzzer, and Deadpool weren't mutants, there were at least two other mutants in the Dreadnoks and the Dreadnoks protected their own. Whether the said Dreadnok was or wasn't a mutant didn't matter to the men currently present.

For the first time, Tomax found his perception of the other men go up slightly. He didn't care to consider them more than allies and associates, but the fact that they truly didn't care if someone had an X-gene made him reevaluate them slightly.

"Do it, Jack," Xamot said quietly. "Either Cobra Commander has been lying to us about being 'protected', or the sentinels are going beyond their original programming to target all mutants."

"Cobra Commander? Lie? Never," Buzzer muttered sarcastically. The Dreadnok finally got around to lighting up his cigarette. He took a few puffs before sliding his cigarette pack towards a surprised Tomax.

"Want one?" the man asked. "Your brother said that you used to smoke."

Tomax eyed the cigarettes. He'd weaned himself off of them before because his brother had been suffering from the negative effects of them through their link. Besides, tobacco was a filthy addiction to have anyway. The elder twin wasn't about to get himself addicted again.

"I…used to, but not anymore," he replied. He felt a tiny pang of longing, which surprised him. Tomax ignored the tiny voice demanding nicotine and pushed the cigarettes away. He wasn't going to start up on that again. Buzzer shrugged and repocketed the cigarettes.

"So…what about the Baroness and Sinister?" Zandar asked, steering the conversation back to the two individuals. The poker game was now forgotten, for the moment. Deadpool snickered over from his seat. As of yet, the loud mouth hadn't contributed to the discussion.

"What're you going to do, Wade?" Xamot asked warily.

"Steal the Baroness's undies and light them on fire?" Buzzer asked hopefully. The scarred twin shot him a glare at the exact same moment that Deadpool made an 'Oooo…' sound.

"Don't give him any ideas," Xamot told him.

"Why not?" the Dreadnok asked. "I personally want to see it happen…and don't tell me that you don't either." Xamot was somewhat caught off guard by that reply. Tomax found himself smirking for the first time since his unwanted guests had arrived. His body began to relax slightly as it lost some of the tension it had been holding.

"Wilson," Tomax said. "I'll give you a thousand dollars if you can figure out a way to make the Baroness lose her clothing in public. I don't care if you set them on fire or not, just make it happen. Hell…I'll give you two thousand."

"Brother!" Xamot cried, somewhat scandalized. Buzzer, on the other hand, had the largest grin on his face that Tomax had ever seen. The other men were laughing at the image.

"What?" Tomax replied dryly. "Wilson wants to humiliate her and it's eye candy…besides…I know for a fact that you want to see it too." Try as his brother might to act somewhat 'honorable', he knew through what remained of their mental link that Xamot secretly liked the idea as well. His brother sighed heavily and his shoulders sagged slightly in defeat.

"You know what Wilson?" Buzzer added, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "I'll give you three cases of grape soda and a case of beer if you do it tomorrow."

Deadpool stood up and bowed solemnly to the other men in the room. The mercenary then placed his fist to his chest.

"Gentlemen…I accept this mission with sincere thanks and appreciation. I shall dutifully and…er….what's another big word…anyway, I shall carry out this very serious mission tomorrow. For the good of us all."

The room erupted into laugher. All talk of Sinister and the Baroness faded away after that, but Tomax knew that the subject would be brought up again eventually. His brother reshuffled the deck of playing cards and looked at him. Tomax knew what he was asking, even without the benefit of their mental link.

"Deal me in," Tomax sighed. It wasn't as if he was doing anything else anyway. His brother grinned and dealt out the cards. Buzzer tapped his cigarette against a makeshift ashtray on the table.

"So you can take the stick out," the Dreadnok smirked. "Good to know."

"Shut up," Tomax snarled back. Buzzer shrugged his shoulders, but didn't seem put off by the response. The elder twin ignored him for a moment while he looked at Deadpool, who was still supremely pleased by his "mission."

"By the way, Wilson," Tomax asked with mild curiosity, "What were you really planning before?" Deadpool seemed to have already had a plan in mind before Tomax and Buzzer had persuaded him to try a different way of getting "revenge" on the Baroness.

"Oh….nothing," the man replied with mock innocence. "Just the enemy of my enemy is my friend, you know? I figured I might help out someone she hates." The other men in the room gave him curious looks. When Xamot asked who that person was, Deadpool merely shrugged his shoulders and whistled in response. Whatever his plan was, the mercenary obviously didn't feel like sharing it.

"Nothing that will hurt you guys," Wade Wilson finally said, still grinning. "Just a little something to help out the boss and keep him on my side."

Ah, Wilson was apparently smarter than he looked. The man was obviously planning to do something that would both humiliate the Baroness and help out Cobra Commander. If anything, the plot to strip Anastasia DeCobray would probably accomplish that as well. If you were going to do something bold like that, you might as well accomplish multiple goals in the process.

Tomax's mistake, however, was assuming that 'the boss' was Cobra Commander. He had no idea that the mercenary was instead referring to Nick Fury.

---

Author's note: The promised scene with Deadpool, Siryn, and the Cobra/Dreadnok gang will take place as an extra scene in "Et Cetera." I'll probably stick Deadpool's "Baroness" mission over there as well, so as to not detract from this story.