Mystique peered over the top of the wall. She could see the people milling about on the helipad. The man with the cowboy hat was in plain sight, but everyone else looked like they were there for window dressing. Window dressing with guns.
She slunk back down to where Kurt was crouched. Mystique ran a hand through her hair.
"So," she said, "No chance you suddenly figured out how to teleport where you can't see?"
He shook his head. She let out a deep breath.
"Okay, okay," she said.
She did another quick scan, focusing on the area above the helipad. There were a few shadows there, maybe three or four. They knew they were coming, but they either didn't have the manpower to ramp up security, or they didn't care. Mystique didn't think it was the latter, but it seemed too big of an oversight to be the former.
Either way, it was best to play it cautious. She looked at the tower closest to the main building, with the least shadows.
"Alright," she said, "We need to go in there, sneak around. We need to be careful, and we need to be quiet. No more heroics."
Kurt sighed.
"Mystique, zey vere going to kill her," he said.
"Yes, and I have no idea what they're going to do to Moira now," she said, "Judging by the fact that there's not a heavy guard out, there's a good chance they're using her as a bargaining chip. That tactic never goes well for the chip in question."
"Vhat should I haf done instead?" he asked.
His tone was sullen, childish. She resisted the urge to touch his cheek, to beg him to understand the kind of risks he was taking.
"I don't know," she said instead.
He looked up at her, surprised. One of her hands went to his shoulder.
"Kurt, you're not always going to get the chance to do the right thing," she said, "And yes, you saved Amanda. You saved Megan. But there are ripples further down the line, ones you can't always see. This is the ripple now."
His shoulder felt broad, solid underneath her hand. She increased the strength of her grip.
"One day you'll be in a situation where you're forced to figure out which ripples you can live with, and which you can't," she said, "Just understand that things don't always have a happy ending. Tonight might not even have a happy ending."
"But it vill," Kurt said, his voice earnest, "Because ve are here now. Und ve will save her."
Mystique gave his shoulder another squeeze, trying to keep the tears in. Had she ever actually believed something that strongly? God, it hurt so much to be around Kurt sometimes.
She forced a smile on her face, trying to pretend Kurt hadn't just thrown the lesson she was trying to teach out the window. She was in no mood to argue. Mystique peered over the wall again and saw that the shadows had disappeared at the top of the tower.
"Nightcrawler, get me over there," she said.
He grabbed her shoulder, and she fell into smoke. Even after all the years spent with Azazel wrapping her in his arms, taking her from place to place, it still made her stomach flip every time she did it.
Her eyes were open when they reappeared, both of them crouching low to the ground. She stifled a cough and put an arm around Kurt's shoulders.
"Come on," she murmured, "We need to get moving."
Kurt nodded and they moved along the floors. Every time they heard a noise Mystique squeezed Kurt's shoulder, signalling him to stop. It made for slow progress but, even in her haste, she knew they couldn't afford to be caught.
Her son's skin was made to blend into the shadows though. Whenever a flicker of a flashlight moved near them, she thought she could see his eyes glow slightly. Bio-luminescence? Unexpected in red eyes.
She forced herself to pay more attention to where they were going instead of details she'd decided not to notice about Kurt. Mystique wondered if Moira even knew she was pregnant. It was possible that, in this environment, they wouldn't have told her.
However, Moira was a smart woman. She might not be very far along, but she might have noticed changes, had her suspicions. Moira was careful enough not to take any chances or, at least, she hoped so. She would be taking extra care.
From her own vague memories of the miserable time that had been her own pregnancy, Mystique could remember that this period was fraught with danger for expecting mothers. The body wasn't fragile, not by any means, but some women wouldn't even make an announcement until two months, or when the baby started kicking. It could set up for disappointment otherwise.
Mystique herself had denied that she was pregnant for the first three months, pretending her lack of a period was just stress. The attack on what had remained of the Brotherhood had left her alone, waiting for someone who was never going to come back.
They slipped into a room as a guard moved past them. She pressed herself up against the wall. How long had she waited for Azazel at their safe location? He'd always said she should wait a week if they were separated, no more, no less. But she had waited two before she'd packed up and gone looking.
Three weeks later she'd realized why her body was changing the way it was, that there was a life inside her. She'd become frantic then, and her panic had led to a series of unfortunate decisions that, admittedly, had probably culminated in D.C. She should have gone to Charles, but she'd always been so close and moving across Europe was difficult even with her skill set.
The guard moved past them and Mystique saw the stairs. They needed to get down to the bottom level, and then try to figure out where Moira was from there. She was good at looking through computers, which was what she knew they would have to rely on now. If it had been as easy as having Charles find her, Moira would be at Westchester, discovering the news of her pregnancy with the safety of a home test and wrapped in Charles's love.
Together, they reached the bottom of the stairs. The teleporter wasn't paying attention to them. They were half-cloaked in shadows, but that assurance was still more than welcome.
She eyed one of the entrances, the keypad in front of one of them. It had swipe card access. Brilliant.
"Stay here," she told Kurt.
He nodded and she slunk back up the stairs. Just as she'd suspected, the guard from earlier was on their way. She stuck to the shadows, pressing herself up tightly against the wall, waiting.
When he moved close enough, she put all of her weight into a punch to his throat. He choked, but he did so fairly silently. Mystique quickly side stepped him and smashed his head into the wall.
Once he was unconscious she dragged him into one of the side rooms and began searching him. His key card was easy enough to find. He might not have the access to get to where Moira was being kept, but, in the very least, it was enough to get them in.
She slunk back down to the door, swiping the access panel quickly. The door opened, and she gestured to Kurt. Mystique slipped in just as smoke filled the small hallway. Kurt gave her a grin as the door closed.
"We're in!" he whispered excitedly.
She grinned, but Mystique had never been too concerned about getting in. That wasn't a cake walk, but it was fairly simple and straightforward. What she was worried about was transporting a woman who had possibly been tortured and was, hopefully, still pregnant.
Together they moved silently down the halls. It was dark, but it didn't appear to be unused. There were signs of life everywhere, of some halls that had been swept and others that had been mopped. This wasn't likely to be where they were keeping the prisoners.
It also wasn't likely to be this undermanned. Her heart sank.
"Nightcrawler?" she murmured.
"Ja?"
"We're about to get slammed," she said, "Guns probably, but some might have tasers or knives."
"Vhat?" he said, alarmed.
"Believe it or not, we're being set up," Mystique said, "Not quite sure why, but I know we are."
He gave her a disbelieving look, but she forced herself to be calm. If she listened closely, she thought she could hear footsteps, but muffled. They were taking precautions to be quiet. If this was any other mission she'd start running. Even with her own personal loss, she might have left Moira and told Kurt to retreat. She might have waited for back-up. You had to be tactical in these situations.
But two things were wrong with that. First, of course, was the baby. Whatever happened to her, Moira didn't deserve to be in this hellish place trying to protect a child she wouldn't be able to hold onto. If, of course, they wanted to let her keep the baby, and if she didn't lose it.
And she couldn't bare to think of the way Kurt would look at her if she did. So, she decided to do the next best thing.
"When it happens, I need you to teleport as far as you can and keep teleporting until you find her," she said, "After that your number one priority is getting out."
"But vhat about-?"
"I told you," she said, "This is about her, okay? I need you to get her out."
His eyes widened, the same color as his father's skin. She could tell he wanted to protest, but the gunshot that shattered the air didn't wait. She rolled down and returned fire at the people who were suddenly flooding the hall.
"Go!" she yelled.
Her son looked at her, and she was reminded of a time, so many years ago, when her lover had told her to go. And, although a part of her had hated him for it, she told the same lie that Azazel had told her.
"Look, we'll meet up!" she said, "I can take care of this!"
Kurt looked at her for a moment longer, then disappeared. She smiled, getting off two more shots. It barely put a dent in it. There were so many coming, too well-equipped, even for her skills.
And yet, there was relief. She'd kept Kurt safe, even if it had been with a lie. He would find Moira and bring her back. Charles would start building the family he'd always wanted. It would have a stepson and a birth child, but she had the feeling he'd be fine with that.
Panic rushed back, however, when she saw Kurt reappear behind two of the guards. They fired and Mystique moved forward, trying to shoot as many of them as she could. The gun clicked empty.
Kurt's tail whipped out, slashing at the legs of some of the guards. They went down. Someone shot at him, and he disappeared before reappearing. He was moving so fast, much faster than she'd thought he could have been capable of.
He reminded her of his father. Their son. So perfect.
And they were all pointing guns at him.
She scooped up one of the fallen soldier's guns, and began shooting away. She aimed for the heads, hearts if they might have had any. When that gun ran out, she slammed the gun into one of their heads. The resulting concussion bled.
All around the hall, Kurt was continuing his quickfire teleportations. A guard would disappear, only to reappear, dropped from the ceiling. She was sure at least some of the bullets were grazing him, but when he finally stopped for a minute, so many of the guards were laying in confused, painful heaps on the floor.
Kurt looked sick, but his quick teleportations had disoriented the guards. She shot the one nearest to Kurt, pushing her son down as the remaining four tried to rally. It would be no use.
Her gun clicked empty again, but she didn't need it at the moment. She lashed out, going for their eyes, their throats, any sensitive parts. They crumpled, one by one. Mystique was exhausted when she slammed the heel of her hand into the last one's nose, leaving it broken and bloody, but the satisfaction made up for it.
She looked up and saw Kurt leaning against one of the walls. He was panting, as was she, but she breathed through her nose, working to master it.
"You know," she said, trying to sound as kind as possible, "Leaving me really would've been smarter."
"Ja," Kurt said, "But I do not vant zat ripple."
Tears tried to force their way up but, like her erratic breathing, she fought to calm them. Instead, she patted his shoulder.
"Good work," she said, "Now, let's go find Moira. Together."
His grin was a thing of beauty.