A/N posting in honor of the rain and the future, that always freaks me out.
X Tomorrow X
Moira sets up the portable radio with care, she tests the equipment carefully. The radio uses a special signal and will communicate along a short wave relay back to England if they need it. Erik has gone still with a deliberate kind of calm. They've all made this decision together, but he's responsible for how it will go down. Each of them knows their parts; he's made sure of it. The tension between them all is palpable. Erik drops a hand gun into Charles' pocket.
"Just in case."
"Fine." He shivers.
Logan meets them at 9.45 am.
"Ready?" Charles asks.
Logan flashes his knives from under his wrists. "Nice suit."
Charles is wearing a completely white cotton suit and a fedora. For his cover as a tourist it is fine, as an outfit well, he looked like someone's lost grandfather.
"Erik has already commented," he says dryly.
X
The two of them head down the stairs and walk out into the street. The day is sunny and warm. They walk easily up the cobbled street. There are people going about their business, an old woman is hanging out washing that is stretching across the lane. The café is busy. A mother and her child, she wears a floral pattern dress and orders coffee.
Erik waits till they have gone down the street a little way, before he takes up a position with his rifle on the balcony. Erik scans the street looking for anything amiss. The old woman's washing gets in his way and he repositions. Down the road he can see a black beaten up cab, but that had been there the night before Erik is not worried about it. He checks again, using the rifle's sight to zero in on Charles. Moira moves from behind the radio, she has been scanning for enemy communications, for any hint that they are betrayed. She hears nothing usable. Moira glances nervously out the window, Erik gives her a nod. He hasn't seen anything either. She returns to the radio slowly moving the dial over the frequencies normally favoured by the enemy. All she can all detect is static.
"That's him that's our man." Logan says in a low growl. Xavier examines the man waiting at the table: a rough beige suit and a hat pulled down low over his face, black sunglasses disguising his eyes, younger than he expected. The target is holding a tiny espresso cup in his hand; he looks most exotic, even though he's trying not to attract attention. Logan breathes an inward sigh of relief when they sit down and order. Charles gets his wish and orders tea. There are two waiters, one was neat tidy, sweaty and, obviously just out of the kitchen. The other smaller man carried a carafe of water out to another the table . The sweaty waiter, comes over to their table to take their order, Charles notices he wears a red carnation in his breast pocket . He explains in Hungarian that they offer a range of teas including a Bergamot orange variety similar to earl grey. X is suitably impressed. Logan orders coffee and toast.
They greet each other with casual nods. Nobody speaks until the orders arrive."Parlez Vous Francais ?"The young man asks softly. Charles nods. The target continues and explains, that it is best they talk in French so that they are neither overheard nor suspected. Logan sighs and eats his toast noisily; he never got the hang of French. He listens to Charles and the double agent speak. He knows Charles has used that language to get girls; it rolls off his tongue pleasantly. The agent finishes his espresso, and puts the cup down. They have yet to speak of anything important except to swap names; an usual request, most agents prefer to keep their identities secret.
"My name", the younger man says in wooden French, "is Darwin."
"Charles."
Logan almost drops his coffee. Logan gives Charles a 'what the hell looks?' Charles doesn't look at him and just continues to smile at the agent across the table. "Now we can trust each other. If you wrong me I can tell the brotherhood you name, and you can do the same to me." Charles nods acknowledging the street smarts of the young gypsy.
"And what is a young man like yourself doing behind the iron curtain?"
"You mean a black man?" Charles won't have put it so bluntly. "I am black yes, but also Roma. My family is big..." Darwin smiles widely, takes a sip from his espresso, and laughs from beneath his hat, "I adapt to survive... You would not believe the things I can do. Or the things I know."
"And what is it that you know?" Xavier poses the question softy , like a purr, his full gaze directed at the gypsy.
Darwin fidgets with his coffee cup. "People and things I wish I did not. That governments are not to be trusted. That I need to get out of here." The smile drops away from his face. To X, he is young and afraid, with too many secrets.
"Tell me. A name." Trust me, he wills.
"If I tell you will you protect me and my friends?" Darwin hesitates.
Xavier looks away he is tempted to lie to the gypsy; a simple yes would have been the safest course of action. But he goes with his instincts. The truth. "I can't promise that, if you want out of here we could do that. Give you a new life in England. But that can only begin if you tell me the agent's name."
Darwin makes a choice. He feels he can trust him. Darwin leans forward, and opens his mouth to speak.
Logan notices the waiter who is sweating a lot more, move. Logan feels the hair on the back of his neck lift up. Charles picks up his teacup. Logan sees a flash in the corner of his eye and throws his weight towards Charles, sweeping them both to the ground.
The crockery and table-cloth fall off the table with them. The white crockery smashes, as Logan's blades impale the waiter. Darwin staggers backwards, trying to pull out his weapon. The smaller waiter shoots wildly, a barrage of bullets. Two bullets lodge themselves in Darwin's head and he sags to the ground. Xavier watches the young eyes roll skyward; gently he reaches across and closes them. Behind them a baby screams, the mother's head lolls to the side, protectively, some how the baby still rests in her arms. A bullet gone astray. Charles looks at the dead woman, shocked for a second. Logan drags him up and pushes him down the alley. They run.
Moira packs up the gear and is rapidly down the stairs; Erik doesn't want to give up his perch. He covers their retreat. He takes out a man shooting from a balcony. Gun shots ring out of the flat, as Moira kills a man on the stairs.
"Erik!" She calls out a warning before running down stairs and into the ally. Running to Charles.
Erik can see flashes of a rifle across the way, but the shooter is being hidden by the washing. Cursing Erik tries to find a different angle. The other rifle fires three more times. Wind blows through the white of the sheets. Got you Erik thinks and fires. Erik's talent is that he never misses. Erik hears a scream. He looks down to the ally. It's Moira. Charles and Logan are lying face down in the street. They are not moving. Erik runs. He kills three more men at close range. Moira is already in the street. Erik keeps his weapon up and covers them. Charles is trying to get Logan to move.
"James!" Xavier rolls the bigger man over. There are three gun shots in his back.
"Hey X." Logan says softly.
"Come on stand up." Charles puts James' arm over his shoulder. "You have to."
Logan grunts, staggers up right, and Xavier tries to take his weight. They collapse and Charles realizes he has been shot in the leg. He cries out as he falls. It hurts. Charles crawls to Logan.
"Charles!" Someone is screaming at him.
There are more bullets flying over his head. They need to go.
"Charles!" Moira is screaming at him. He can hear the rapid retort of Erik's weapon. The light is leaving Logan's eyes.
"Run X." Logan whispers.
But he can't run. He holds James head until the light leaves his eyes.
Moira drags him to his unsteady feet and retreats toward Erik. Erik takes his weight from the other side. Together they hold Charles between them and run as fast as they can down the cobbled street. Charles puts his head down and tries hard not to fall. Erik has shot or killed the agents that waited in the alley. But that is not who they are running from. Soon. Too soon. They hear it. Whistles and shouting: the sounds of the local police. A lot of police.
They almost trip over the red-headed kid who stands in their way.
"Hello Gov, thought you might need a ride today."`
Erik just blinks. Moira is trying hard to get back her breath, but she can see the boy is wearing Charles coat. Charles raises his head at the voice, and gives a weak chuckle, "A ride? A ride would be super."
"Who the hell is that Charles?" Erik demands.
"I'm Sean." The boy answers Erik with a lopsided smile.