Chapter 3: Murderer

Morgan tried to keep her breathing even and calm as the elevator shot up from the subbasement to the first floor. She could feel sweat running unpleasantly down the middle of her back, she used her shirt to wipe it from her brow. Terror was now permeating her senses; she began to block everyone that she knew, concentrating and honing in on only the soldiers.

When the elevator door dinged announcing its arrival, Morgan steeled herself for attack, crouching down, sword raised. The last thing that was expecting was the startled, piercing, blue eyes of Bobby Drake staring back at her. She quickly pulled him in and pushed the button to close the door.

"Are you hurt, Bobby?" She asks, giving him a once over. He just looked scared.

"No."

"How many soldiers did you see down here?"

"I don't know, Logan… killed …one…in the kitchen," he replied, his voice hitching. Morgan's heart went out to him; no child should ever see anything like that. Charles will have to bring in a slew of therapists, to help everyone deal with this shit. If any of us happen to survive. No time for this now. Morgan shoved as much courage and bravery into Bobby that she could. His face took on a steely look, his back straightened, and he pulled his shoulders back.

"Now," she grabbed his chin to make sure that he was looking in her eyes, "that was not for you to do anything stupid or get any bright ideas, Bobby. You get your ass upstairs, grab as many of the kids as you can, and get the fuck out. Got it?"

"What about you?" he whispered, glancing down at the sword before meeting her eyes again.

She shook her head, stood on her toes, leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, he blushed. She smiled as she shoved him over to the control panel, giving him at least one foot of solid metal for protection, before hitting the button to open the door. She knew there weren't any soldiers too close to the elevator, but she wasn't going to take any chances. Morgan quickly hopped out and ran for the first room she saw, a bathroom. She breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator door closed. Morgan hoped that that when Bobby got to the second floor, he won't be facing a soldier when that door reopened. She flattened herself against a wall by the door and waited. She didn't have to wait long.

Two thoughts screamed through her head as she hit a soldier with lethargy, took advantage of his inability to move, and thrust her sword through his chest. One was that human flesh easily parts over sharpened steel. The second was she just executed another human being in cold blood. She is a murderer.

The soldier fell forward onto Morgan knocking her backwards into the wall. She pushed him back and tried to pull her sword out. She had to exert a great deal of effort to pull the blade back out. No one ever told her that. When the soldier fell to the floor, blood began pouring out of his body. She felt bile burning the back of her throat. Morgan turned away from the corpse but not before seeing the man's eyes staring blankly up at her.

"Don't ignore the light," she murmured, "it won't wait long for you."

She crept down the darkened hallway that was littered with the bodies of soldiers. I think Logan did this, she thought disdainfully. Yeah, like you are any better, you hypocrite!

Coming up to a corner, she carefully peered around it. Morgan could feel one of them nearby, but unfortunately, she could not judge his distance. She tried not to scream when she came face to face with a very large gun. Morgan jumped back and flooded the area with fear and lethargy. When she heard the sound of something heavy drop to the floor, she crouched low to the ground, turned her sword towards her chest and flipped it sideways. She took a deep breath, jumped and thrust out. She did not miss. The blood sprayed over her hands. Morgan tried not at his eyes this time.

Morgan was not expecting what happened next. One moment she was creeping silently down the hallway, gingerly stepping over bodies. The next she found herself pinned against a wall, a hand around her throat and three shiny metal blades dangerously close to her face. Without even thinking, she shoved calm into her captor, praying it was enough to get through to him before he skewered her.

"Please don't kill me," she whispered, catching his eyes. The three blades retreated into his hand but he did not release her.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Morgan, Morgan McGowan. Umm...you're Logan, right?"

His eyes narrowed as he studied her, sniffing the air.

"Are ya a student?" He asked gruffly.

"No, I'm staff. Charles's personal assistant. Could you please stop choking me?"

He quickly glanced down the hallway as he snatched Morgan's hand and pulled her into a nearby room and closed the door. He gave her a once over with his eyes, raising a brow at her gory sword. He grabbed her hand and brought it in front of her face, she winced at the blood.

"Hurt?"

"No, that's not mine," she replied softly, looking away from her hand, she could feel her face heating up. Embarrassment? No, that was shame.

"What did you do to me just now, are you like Jeannie?"

"No, not exactly. I'm an empath."

"What's that?"

"I can feel and control other people's emotions."

"Oh okay… wait," he cocked his head, listening to something, "more helicopters just arrived."

She narrowed her eyes and concentrated as well. The boss is here, in one of those helicopters. She recognized profound authority, intense pleasure, and pride.

"Who's ever in charge, just got here," she commented, picking up a stray towel that was lying on the ground to wipe her hands and sword off with, "and a huge group of kids just got away, Piotr has them."

"Handy power that ya got there, girl," Logan replied, smiling at her for the first time, "don't worry about blood, it will wash off."

She said nothing at his pathetic attempt to comfort. He cocked his head again and glanced over at the door, Morgan thought he looked alot like a cocker spaniel with his head cocked like that. A very angry one with really big claws. This guy was the cause for all of Scott's teeth gnashing and jealousy issues? Jean is interested in this? Really? Scott shouldn't worry too much. Jean is just having a bad boy crush. Haven't we all?

"Stay here, darlin', where it's safe. I'm going back out," he barked at her, before opening the door. He ran down the hallway, took a flying leap off the banister, growling like a rabid wolverine.

Morgan made a disparaging noise in the back of her throat, "chauvinistic pig,"

"I'm just a girl, all pretty and petite, so don't let me have any rights," she sang softly, peeking around the door to see what might have ventured into the hallway. All clear.

"This is me, not staying in this room, Logan."

"Zone one clear," the radio crackled. The leader of this mission couldn't help smiling. All was going so very well. Walking down a very futuristic looking hallway that lead to Charles Xavier's Cerebro, he was joined by a tall soldier, in full camouflage gear.

He glanced over at his second in command, knowing what he was going to say. Most of the mutant children had escaped. William Stryker learned a long time ago, to never underestimate Charles Xavier. That crippled old bastard never put all of his eggs in one basket. He would have anticipated an invasion at some point in time, and instructed his wards with an escape plan.

After spending a few hours interrogating Charles Xavier's field leader, Scott Summers, codename: Cyclops, who now was fully under his control, Stryker had gained a healthy respect for Xavier. William Stryker likened Cyclops to some of the best military minds ever, like Rommel, Patton, or MacArthur. He would have enjoyed analyzing Summer's tactical skills, but time was short and he was so close to having his own Cerebro. All mutants will be dead by this time, tomorrow.

"Sergeant?"

"Most of the mutants escaped through a series of tunnels that weren't on any of our schematics," Sergeant Lyman reported as they walked towards Cerebro, "we have several in custody."

"How many?" he asked, hoping for at least ten to twelve.

"Six, sir," he paused, to listen to his radio, "and there is some sort of psy up on the third floor that is eluding us. I am needed upstairs to take him out."

Stryker turned towards his second, and lowered his voice, "I want him alive, Lyman."

"Sir, he has taken out over seven of my men," he explained, hoping that this would act as a deterrent this late in game. He didn't want to risk the lives of his men over somebody that will surely be dead by tomorrow night.

"Even more the reason," he replied, his lips turning up as he heard a computerized voice say: Welcome, Professor.

"Shit," she cussed softly to herself. Morgan had allowed the soldiers to herd her into a dead end without her even realizing it, "where is Cyclops when you need him?"

She peered around the darkened corner, and pulled her self back from the edge when she saw the number of men that now were wise to her. This floor goes no where; perhaps the time has come to hide. She ran to the far end of the hall and began scouting out spots. Glancing down at her watch, she sighed in despair, Remy won't be here for another thirty minutes. I don't think I can hide for that long, she thought, maybe if overload all of these guys; I can sneak past them undetected.

"I went to a shrink, to analyze my dreams; she says its lack of sex, that's bringing me down," she sang quietly, her eyes darting back and forth in the darkness, as she began letting her power build. Unfortunately, she never even got the chance to lower her shields.

She saw the grenade rolling down the hallway just in time to leap behind a heavy cabinet. Even though, the cabinet shielded her from most of the explosion, she still hit her head fairly hard on the wall. Morgan didn't know that she was injured until she reached up and wiped the blood that was running down her face. Fighting back the blackness that was darkening her vision, she struggled to get back to her feet.

"Son of bitch," Sergeant Lyman muttered when he walked up to a very dazed Morgan. He was not expecting a woman. When their eyes met, he began to feel lethargic and scared. He immediately pulled his tranquilizer gun out and shot Morgan in the neck, she fell forward onto the debris, completely out cold. He squatted down, picked her up and walked down the hallway. One of his men, jogged up, eager to get a look at the mutant that had held them all at bay.

"Do you need a hand, Sergeant? Is he heavy?" the soldier asked, before stopping cold in his tracks.

"No, soldier. She's about one hundred and twenty pounds, soaking wet."

AN:

"I'm Just a Girl" No Doubt

"Basket Case" Green Day