This story is giving me a bit more trouble than I originally anticipated. I am terribly sorry to put you loyal readers through such long periods of silence, but my muse seems to be incredibly fickle with regards to this story. But I started this, and I am bound and determined to finish it! We are all very lucky that SuniGyrl is such a faithful and encouraging beta, or I might be tempted to just disappear!
Anyway, enjoy your long overdue chapter!
Davis nodded approvingly as his brothers walked into the apartment that they'd labeled Site C. Lex was lugging the large car seat while the much larger Hoyt cradled a sleeping girl with beaded braids and mocha skin. Davis raised an eyebrow as his middle brother walked by with the girl. "Brat must look like her father," he mumbled, whipping out his phone and searching for the right number. "She doesn't look shit like her mother."
"And what exactly does her mother look like," Lex asked, emerging victorious from his struggle with collapsing the car seat. "You've told us nothing except that she's hot, she's rich, and she's a mutant. I really wish we could've found someone with only two of those credentials."
"How else are we supposed to expand," Hoyt mocked, mimicking Davis' deeper tone of voice.
Lex, the youngest brother, scoffed. "Expansion is how we're going to get caught and thrown in prison, if you ask me."
Davis waved his hand carelessly as he sat at the kitchen table. "Well, no one asked you, so shut the hell up. Now that we have the brat safe and sound we can call her mommy and negotiate her safe return. For a reasonable price, of course."
"I hope it's that simple," Hoyt muttered. "I hope all her money is a front because she can only talk to flowers or something."
"Yeah, Davis," Lex said, turning to the eldest, "what's her mutation?"
Uncaring, Davis shrugged. "What do I care? She's a hero, which means she has to play by the rules, which means the worst she'll do to us is throw us in jail. If – and only if – she manages to catch us. Which she won't, because this is her first time having her kid snatched, and this isn't our first ransom. Now shut up, I'm on the phone. You don't want to know how many asses I had to kiss to get this number."
Davis tuned out Lex's choice words as he hit the call button on his phone and waited for the no doubt frantic mother to pick up. As he predicted, she answered on the second ring. "What?" she snapped.
Davis grinned, but kept his voice polite. Having her child stolen gave her the right to be snappish. "Please don't be alarmed Ms. Frost," he began smoothly. "Your daughter is perfectly safe and sound – "
"Damn right, she's safe. I'm staring right at her, jackass. Who is this?"
Davis paused at that, glancing at the sleeping toddler that Hoyt had placed on the couch. "Oh, I get it!" She'd had him worried for a minute. "You're psychic or something, right? Got a little crystal ball that you can stare into? Make sure that there isn't a single braid out of place?"
"What, in all hell – ?" She gasped.
Davis grinned. "Now we're firing on all thrusters," he chuckled. "You have nothing to worry about – we're not going to hurt the kid – so let's get straight to business. You're a fairly rich woman, Ms. Frost, and we don't want you to go broke. This should be a fairly simple procedure."
"Oh, I see where this is going," the woman said, her heavy British accent sounding quite malicious.
And not quite as panicked as Davis had hoped. He'd hung out with some rough crowds, and no voice had sent a chill down his spine quite like this. Damn mutants. He cleared his throat to buy himself half a second to brush off the effect. "Three hundred thousand. I'd say that's a more than reasonable price for your daughter's safe return – "
"Why don't I stop you right there. Emma Frost's daughter is physically standing right beside me."
"So let's arrange – pardon? You're not – "
"No, I'm not Emma Frost. She's busy at the moment and I happened to pick up her phone. But if you think you have Emma's daughter, that would make you" – she paused, probably for dramatic effect – "the idiots that took Wolverine's daughter."
A mutant with a name like Wolverine didn't exactly bring to mind the image of a nice, quiet palm reader. Davis swallowed hard, racking his brain. He could deal with this. It was just a hiccup. A little speed bump. Right?
If the guy had money, Davis could drop the price and arrange a transaction with him. Or maybe just give the kid back, no charge, not a single hair out of place.
"Wolverine, huh?" He tried, fighting for all he was worth, to keep the anxiety out of his voice. "Well, I'd like to apologize for the mix up, Miss… I don't think I caught your name."
"Perhaps because I didn't throw it," she said shortly.
Davis tugged at his collar, which was suddenly starting to feel a bit tight. "Could you, uh…" How could he say this elegantly? "Pass him the phone, maybe?" He didn't like the way his tone wavered, and the sarcastically thoughtful hum on the other end suggested that she'd heard that uncertainty. "Or if you have his number – "
"I doubt that he's available to talk," she said, her well cultured voice smooth even with the smug edge to it. "He gets in a zone when he's hunting, and right now he's out hunting you. So is her mother, Storm," she added, seemingly as an afterthought.
"Fantastic," he said, his voice monotone. He hit the speakerphone button and set the phone on the counter, rubbing his temples. "Some mutants named Storm and Wolverine are hunting us," he clarified, just to make sure that his brothers knew how dead they were. Figuratively, he hoped.
"You can't honestly think that they're just some mutants." Her tone was severely condescending at first, but then she chuckled as though she suddenly found that idea extremely funny. "You must not watch the news or get out much. Interesting, considering the line of work you've chosen. You're in for a nasty surprise."
"If I may," Lex interjected, stepping forward, "what kind of powers come with names like Storm and Wolverine?"
"Why don't you use your collective intelligence to figure it out? I know it's not much, but I'd hope you could at least manage to turn on the computer."
"How did you know there were three of us?" Hoyt asked nervously.
Davis stood perfectly still, unwilling to look at his brother for fear of committing murder. Whoever this woman was, she was smart, and a slip like that was far too obvious to miss.
"We're mutants," she said simply. "What makes you think that you can hide from us for any stretch of time?"
Well, at the very least, that meant that Hoyt hadn't signed their death certificates. But that thought wasn't entirely comforting, considering that they'd been signed nonetheless.
"Why don't you use your imaginations? It's gotten you this far, after all, and I think that's a bit more fun than research. Don't you agree?" Her voice was incredibly soft, and it sent waves of goose bumps racing down Davis' neck and arms. "I'll tell you this; between the two of them, someone's not going to have a very good day."
Hoyt swallowed audibly and threw the unconscious toddler a nervous glance. More proactive – or perhaps less intelligent – than the other two, Lex marched up to the phone and picked it up off the counter. "Great, well, thanks for the warning," he said before snapping the phone shut and marching over to the window.
"What the hell are you doing?" Davis demanded.
"You want them to trace the call?" he snapped, opening the window. "Why the hell do you think she kept you talking?"
"You ended the call," Davis yelled, diving for his phone. "I have important numbers in there! Give it here, or I swear to God I'll break my foot off in your ass!"
"Some mutants are already after us and all you care about is your stupid numbers?"
"Yes! Some of which happen to be numbers of people that can help us!"
Lex finally dropped the phone into his brother's hand and glared at him. "Maybe I should throw the phone and you out the window," he grumbled.
"Try it," Davis challenged. "I'll lay you out so fast… I might do it anyway since you dumbasses stole the wrong kid!"
"I wonder how we might've gotten the right kid," Lex said snidely, tapping his forefinger to his chin obnoxiously. "Maybe if we had a picture of the brat, huh? Instead of some vague description? Female between three and four! All of those little horrors were between three and four! The only reason we thought we had the right kid is because Hoyt – fucking Hoyt! – had to yell out 'Ruby!' and that" – he pointed to the unknown child – "is the brat that looked up!"
"It seemed like a good idea," Hoyt said with a shrug.
Lex rounded on his other brother. "It was a good idea," he said earnestly. "But you know what would've been a better idea? Sending your younger brothers out with more information than a name and the mother's economic status! This is ridiculous! I'm calling the Boss!"
"The hell you are!" Davis snarled. "You want him to skin us alive? Literally?"
"This bitching isn't helping anything," Hoyt barked. "Lex, shut up and let him think. And Dave, how about some of those people that'll help us, huh?"
Davis took a deep breath, running down his list of options. "Fuck. I – " He paused, running a hand through his hair. "I can't even find the words to describe how positively brainless – "
"I told you that we needed more info," Lex screeched, high on his horse. "I fucking told you!"
"Don't take that tone with me, little brother!"
Lex took a step forward. Davis took a step back. He didn't want to fight his youngest brother when there were so many other important things that they needed to be doing instead. But, being the youngest and having the hottest temper, fighting was the only thing Lex was ever ready for. "This is entirely your fault," Lex hissed. "You thought that quick and easy were synonymous, and now we've got some freaks out hunting us because you thought you could make some fast cash off a rich freak!"
"I'll fix it," Davis snapped. "We'll – We'll bargain with them, we'll give the brat back, safe and sound – "
"You think that'll work," Hoyt asked, frowning down at the still sleeping toddler. "I don't know… I've heard stories about this dude, Wolverine…"
"Oh, wonderful!" Lex declared, then turned to Davis with false eagerness. "Did you hear that, Davis? He's heard stories!"
"I think that chick was telling the truth…"
Lex nodded overdramatically. "She was telling the truth, Davis!"
Davis picked up his phone and skimmed through his contacts. "Fuck off, Alexander," he snapped. "I said I'd fix it. And let me just say, if I am to blame, I'm certainly not the only one to blame. Did you rejects just grab the first damn kid you saw?"
Lex laughed bitterly, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. "We didn't exactly have time to stake the place out or conduct interviews since you had us on a schedule!"
"Hey!" Hoyt snapped. "Shut up or you'll wake the girl. She'll be scared enough when she wakes up someplace that's unfamiliar."
Davis blinked, his patience already paper thin. "Why is that relevant?"
Hoyt shrugged. "Okay, then you get to be the one to explain – to a father and mother who might have no reservations about killing us – why their daughter is terrified of us. You think they'll stop to ask her if we were just arguing? Or do you think they'll just slice us open?"
"The lady didn't say we were up against the Manson family," Lex said in a falsely helpful tone.
"The lady said to use our imaginations," Hoyt snapped, "and I imagine if the kid so much as sneezes, they'll smite us for not having an air purifier!"
Davis bit his lip, his eyes falling on the toddler. Hoyt glared between his brothers. "The reason that less than half of the parents pursue us because we don't traumatize the kids. We take the money, we pass over the usually happy – or at least calm – kid, and we disappear. That's why the Boss keeps hiring us for this kind of thing."
Davis snorted, but lowered his tone anyway. "Well, that's not exactly an option this time, is it?"
"You think they'll let us live if the girl is upset?"
Their eldest brother laughed bitterly. "You think they'll let us live if the kid is perfectly happy?" he countered. "Because Hoyt's over-active imagination has me imagining that pissed off T-Rex from Jurassic Park that's looking for its baby! They can't find us with the kid! They can't find us at all! We need to get the fuck out of here!"
"Oh, it's too late for that," Lex said, lowering his tone as well. "You think the Boss will accept any story but the truth? You think these parents will stop looking for us even if they find the kid sleeping here without so much as a wrinkle in her clothing?"
Davis brother snapped his phone shut, throwing his hands up. "So what do you propose that we do, little brother? We're damned if we do and we're damned if we don't!" Here, Lex was silent. Davis knew that his brother could improvise with the best of them, but actual plans weren't his forte. "I thought so," he muttered, opening his phone again and reading the name he'd left off on. "Why don't you leave the thinking to me, 'kay?"
Lex collapsed into a chair, shooting the child a scathing glare. "Because that's been working great so far…"
"Damn it!"
Betsy snapped Emma's phone shut, barely resisting the urge to throw it against the wall in her frustration. She'd been trying to keep the kidnappers talking, hoping that they'd be interested in who was tracking them down with the intent to kill.
She'd gotten the call in the hallway, on her way to put a tired Ruby to bed with a downright exhausted Emma. Realizing that she was speaking to Kendall's kidnappers, Betsy had turned right around and had barged into Ororo's empty office, searching around uselessly for the device that Tony Stark had given them just in case of such an emergency. When plugged into the phone, the little tab could triangulate the location of the caller. All it needed was ten seconds to do it while the person was on the other line.
She'd had to tear the office apart as quietly as possible to find it, only to have the men hang up not three seconds after she'd plugged it into the phone. It seemed that the second man – Stooge Two, in her mind – had realized that she was trying to buy time, but she was more inclined to believe that it was because he was scared.
Had the idiots really thought that they had Ruby? Had they seriously expected it to be a smooth ride if they had kidnapped the right girl? "Fucking amateurs," Betsy muttered angrily, glaring at Stark's device, thinking.
"Kitty," she called out telepathically. "I've got a job for you." Stark's device hadn't been able to trace the call in time, but maybe Kitty could find a way to do it.
Stooge One had mentioned that Kendall was perfectly safe, and Betsy dearly hoped that she'd stay that way. She'd tried to paint Wolverine and Storm as parents that were out for blood (which wasn't too far from the truth), so perhaps the kidnappers would keep her safe out of fear? Or perhaps they'd be too preoccupied with coming up with a plan to bargain for their lives. She hoped so. It would at least it would buy Logan and Ororo some time to catch up to them, though she knew that whatever scheme they'd have ready wouldn't save them from the wrath of Kendall's parents.
Betsy knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Logan was going to kill them, and she wasn't as bothered by that as she probably should have been.
Were she in his place, she knew she'd kill them too. Betsy didn't have any maternal instinct, but she wasn't so naïve as to think that she wouldn't kill them if she found the stooges first, even though Kendall wasn't her daughter.
Ororo… That was difficult to say. Ororo probably wouldn't stop Logan from killing the men that had stolen their daughter, but Betsy didn't know Ororo well enough to say whether or not she'd actually take a life. The weather witch was an intensely complicated person; she prided herself in her high morals and ethics, and she'd learned how to wield her omega power in such a way that she couldn't be controlled by her strongest emotions, such as rage.
But they'd taken her child, for Lord only knew what purpose. Yes, they'd meant to take Ruby, but they had no way of knowing if money was all that they wanted in exchange for the child. This situation was sure to push Ororo to the edge, but Betsy honestly couldn't say whether or not Ororo would kill them.
More than that, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"Come on Ruby," she said, gently ushering the tired toddler down to her room. "Kitty and I have work to do, and it's time for you to go to bed."
Hoyt had taken Lex out to cool off, and Davis had moved into the spare bedroom to avoid waking the kid since the drug would be wearing off soon.
He stared at the name on his phone screen for a long moment, lightly running his thumb across the CALL button. He'd been given this particular number by one of the few, honest mob bosses left in all of New York, and it had come with a warning. "You better be out of every conceivable option before you call this guy," the mobster had told Davis. "You better have no hope whatsoever before you even think of this number, and you'd better have money for him, 'cause he ain't cheap." He'd ended his statement by pointing emphatically to the paper coaster that he'd written the number on. No last name, no address. Just a first name, a number, and a promise that this man could get anything or anyone. And as for the money… Well, if Davis had to choose between being out a couple thousand dollars or being dead, he'd shell out a couple thousand more just to be sure that his ass was covered.
Davis took a deep breath, then another. He pushed the CALL button and winced when it began ringing. No turning back now. He sent a silent prayer to whatever deity existed just as someone picked up on the other end.
"Hello Caller-Info-Not-Available," he drawled boredly. His voice was deep and rumbling, and there was something almost… feral about it. It already raised hairs on the back of Davis' neck.
But he cleared his throat and spoke with a sure voice, one that people were inclined listened to. "Am I speaking to Victor?"
"You know my name," he said with a dark chuckle. "I'm guessing that means you have a problem?"
"One that I'm hoping you can help us solve."
"Well, if you want results then you've called the right guy. Let's hear it."
Kendall woke slowly, groaning and rubbing at her eyes. She smacked her lips. Her mouth tasted bad; dry and fluffy and icky.
She then yawned wide, but upon doing that she was hit with smells that she didn't recognize. She smelled the surface that she was on. It wasn't her bed, and it wasn't Momma and Daddy's bed, and it wasn't the couch in the living room. In fact, the air she was breathing didn't smell like home or daycare at all. It smelled stale, like the windows had never been opened.
Kendall's bottom lip stuck out as she continued smelling the air. She didn't smell Momma or Daddy. Or Auntie Emma or even Ruby. She didn't smell Kurt or Remy or Rogue or Lee or Kitty or Bobby. She didn't smell anything familiar. She didn't see anything familiar.
That bottom lip started to tremble and her vision got blurry. She smelled the salt from her tears and opened her mouth to let out a loud wail that she hoped Momma and Daddy would hear so they would bring her back home.