Moira's head hurt when she awoke. Her limbs were also trembling from cold and her legs ached from the awkward position they'd been placed in. For a second she blinked, trying to get her bearings. Once she tried to sit up and felt the manacles around her wrists, tying her to the post in front of her, she remembered.
Struggling she managed to get into a sitting position, pulling on her manacles. The movement was difficult with her stiff limbs. Upon managing it she had to lean her head against metal sheeting and rest. Moira felt weak, and she despised the feeling. However, the hours had done their toll on her unconscious form.
All around her she felt rumbling. Once or twice there was a bump and she was momentarily hurtled in the air. She was in the back of some sort of transport, she knew that much. It was probably a transport truck, and a big one at that. There were no windows so she couldn't get a time or even a vague idea of her location. Moira figured she was still within state lines, or somewhere close. It was definitely still snowing out there.
Looking around her prison she saw a warbling reflection of herself in the metal. She grimaced at the look, but it could have been worse. Other than the ache in her head and how cold she was she was otherwise unharmed. It was a small mercy. People didn't break into a hotel room and kidnap someone just to say hello.
With great difficulty she swallowed her fear and pulled up her legs for warmth. Moira had been trained for these situations. It had been right after the shooting course; what to do if captured. Training didn't mean she was prepared for it though. No matter what happened at the end of training she could always go home and read to Rahne.
At least it gave her somewhere to start. The manacles were big, but not big enough for her hands to slip through. It was the only way that she might have gotten out of them. Her legs were unfettered so she could use them, for whatever good that would do. If these were the people she thought they were, some vague kicking wasn't going to free her.
Once she'd finished taking stock the door opened. Moira squinted in the light and then focused her eyes into a glare.
"Hey dollface," said the man cheerfully, crouching in front of her, "Had a nice nap? No? Didn't think so."
He cocked his head at her position.
"None of us have harmed 'ya, if that's what you're worried about," he said, "Ruins the fun 'ya see. More for later."
He chewed loudly and she wondered if he had gum. As if reading her mind he blew a bubble before bringing the gum back in.
"Anyway," he said, "Wraith up there thinks 'ya might freeze to death before we get where we're going. Fair enough I guess."
He took off his coat, revealing two katanas strapped to his back. The man threw it over her and Moira made sure not to flinch at the gesture. Although she kept her face disdainful, her body cried out in relief. She didn't know how many hours she had been in that car with nothing to protect her against the elements.
"Now that we've got you all toasty it's time for the questions," he said, "First; what's the capitol of West Berlin?"
Her brow furrowed and he laughed.
"Trick question, Berlin's a city," he said, "That's why it's not really my 'sponsibility to go around interrogating prisoners though. So I'll go get Cain, and you have him real pissy, let me tell you. Shoulda known that shooting 'im would only make 'im angry."
A shadow blocked the doorway. Moira swallowed, remembering the helmeted figure she saw in Canada. The man looked up and smiled.
"Heya Cain," he said cheerfully, "You need to get a new helmet. Looks like someone overturned a salad bowl on your head."
"Can it Wade," Cain growled, "And get out."
Wade grinned.
"Would if I could, you know how much I love making dramatic exits," he said, "But you're blockin' the doorway sweetheart."
Reluctantly Cain moved. Wade squeezed past him, still grinning. Moira wondered if something was wrong with him. Thoroughly irritated Cain shut the door behind him. He moved over to Moira, the floor rumbling under his footsteps. Moira drew herself up while still trying to remain under the coat. Her body was still begging her to huddle beneath it, but she knew better than to display such weakness.
"So," Cain said, his voice almost pleasant, "you're the crack shot?"
He tapped the scar next to his eye. Moira shrugged.
"I'm alright I suppose," she said.
Cain smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"This will be fun," he said, "Now, our boss says that you've been a thorn in his side for far too long. I know you know what I'm talking about."
"Did I not crunch enough numbers?" Moira snapped.
A rumbling chuckle came from him.
"I should have left you in here with Wade. You two would have some pretty interesting conversations," he said, "Of course, you're doing this for your life. Don't worry; you'll be out of this by tomorrow. Obviously you're going home in a body bag, but it's better than nothing right?"
Fear stabbed her side but she kept it out of her features.
"My boss thinks you've been into too much of his business," he said.
Cain tilted his head.
"He also thinks you're screwing the Genoshan Prime Minister," Cain said, his voice casual, "That true?"
Her face burned and her glare intensified.
"Of course he would think that," said Moira, "Of course a woman who wants to honor an inconvenient promise must be sleeping with somebody."
He nodded.
"I'll take that as a no. I didn't think so. My boss is an idiot," Cain said, his voice still casual, "Too much at risk for both of you. If nothing else you're devoted to your job. Shitty job, but you're devoted."
The thread of the conversation made no sense to her. Moira kept quiet though, fully aware of the risks of doing something wrong. No matter what came of her capture she wanted to survive. She wanted to take the future she'd been offered a chance at, and the people with her weren't going to stop her.
If fate had other plans, too bad for it.
"But, back to my boss the dumbass," Cain said, "If he were smart than he wouldn't have given the assignment to me."
She narrowed her eyes, not sure what he was getting at. Moira knew he wasn't just talking to hear the sound of his own voice. He smiled at her.
"See, the original assignment was just to kill you," said Cain, "He didn't need any information from you. What could you possibly tell him?"
Shrugging his massive shoulders he scratched the scar by his eye.
"It itches, by the way, all the time. I'll pay you back for it. Eventually," he said, "In any case he left it to me to tell the rest about our new mission. Since you're not dead I figure you have enough brain cells to know that I've changed it up a bit."
Moira said nothing. She knew that he didn't want her to, and it was apparent from his manner that he wasn't about to let her go.
"You see, his comment about the Prime Minister got me thinking," Cain continued, "Got me corroborating what we have on Charles."
The casual drop of his first name made her pause. Cain must have noticed her expression because his grin widened.
"I'm not as smart as my fancy-pants stepbrother, but I am good at figuring things out," said Cain, "I guess he didn't tell you about me? Him or that blue sister of his?"
For a moment the knowledge shocked her and then she cocked her head.
"I think you're lying," Moira said.
Without warning Cain grabbed her face. Her jaw ached under his hand and one of her feet lashed out. With a casual movement he held them down.
"Of course you do," he snapped, "Because you may not have been screwing him, but he certainly means something to you. And he agreed to take care of your freak daughter? That's not something he'd do lightly. Not the way he went about it."
They knew where Rahne was? She hadn't even told McCone where she'd hidden Rahne. Fear leeched into her and Cain laughed.
"Yes, we know," he said, "We have surveillance on Genosha. We're not dumb. So you don't think a saint like him could have grown up near me? Guess again."
She tried to jerk away but he held her face in place.
"Do you have any idea how he got his mother to accept his sister?" he asked, "He went into her mind, changed her memories. I'm pretty sure he screwed with my father's memories too so he wouldn't go poking around. Anyone who got too close. Just changed things around to suit him."
Moira said nothing. She had always wondered how he had managed to take in Raven. It didn't really surprise her and she knew that Charles had changed somewhat since then. It wasn't an easy idea to swallow, but she knew she would have done all that and worse for Rahne.
"Stryker wanted this quick and easy, but I have a different plan."
For once his smile was a genuine one.
"Charles is going to follow us. It's why I let you stay on the phone for so long. Someone would have heard, someone who cared," he said, "And I'll keep you alive until then. And when he arrives I'm going to rip you to shreds."
His grip on her ankles intensified, turning his hand slightly as he did so. Moira felt the bones scraping together and she gasped from the pain. Tears began to well in her eyes she fought to keep them back. Combined with her shivering and awkward position she felt like her body was breaking.
Cain looked delighted.
"Don't think I can't do it," said Cain, "Nod now to show you understand MacTaggert."
She remained stubborn. His grip became harder and she let out a small cry.
"Close enough," Cain said, "He took my future from me when he made me walk back to Westchester. Five days of searching and his little mind trick made me walk back to New York. My father threw me out the second I arrived."
Cain jerked her head to the side so he could look her in the eyes.
"Now I'm returning the favor," Cain said, "Even if he comes with his friends, well I've got a few of my own."
He smirked and pulled her face a little closer to his. She could smell his breath and it made her stomach retch.
"It's a pity he got to you first. Charles always had a way with the girls," said Cain, his expression thoughtful, "You're not bad MacTaggert."
His thumb moved across her lips. Seizing the opportunity she opened her mouth and bit down as hard as she could. Cain yelped and released her head. The next thing she knew his hand had made contact with her face, knocking her into the wall and aggravating the bruise on her head. Blearily she looked up.
"Don't do that again," he said, "I'd hate to have to ruin everything because I wanted to kill you too soon."
His eyes glinted.
"Don't think I won't do it."
Without another word he got up and pushed through to the next room. Moira moved the coat up her shivering body, wondering what on earth she should do next.
"Do you still have the scent?"
Logan nodded, his hood pulled over his head. The wind was picking up and the snow was falling thickly. Charles looked ahead, his eyes fixed on the road. Behind them the car they had commandeered from the embassy was behind them. Neena was at the wheel, her eyes fixed ahead of them. Janos and Clarice were there too, as well as Raven. He hadn't wanted to bring her, but he couldn't leave her alone at the embassy.
With Logan's skills they had tracked the truck that had taken Moira from her hotel. In the hills the road was becoming increasingly treacherous.
"It's gettin' harder Chuck," Logan said.
"But you still have it, right?" asked Charles, his voice pained, "You can tell she's still alive, can't you?"
Logan gave him a side glance.
"Yeah, I've got it," he said at last, "And she was alive, at least when they passed here about forty minutes ago."
He shook his head.
"Chuck, they're makin' this too easy. Her scent's faint, but the others are pretty strong for this weather. It's like they knew the weather would cover their scent. There's broken branches and it's like they were just dropping motor oil onto the road. They want us to follow."
The observation didn't particularly concern him. Cain had always liked to play cat and mouse games when they were younger.
"It's within his character," Charles said.
Logan didn't say anything, but Charles knew that he was filing it away. They walked back to the car. Charles got into the back with Raven, his eyes fixed ahead of him.
"Still have the trail?" asked Clarice.
"Yeah," grunted Logan, "We've got about three more miles ahead of us. Then I'm going to have to get out again."
"Slow going," Janos observed.
"We'll make it in time," Charles said flatly.
He ignored the worried glances sent his way. It was true. They would make it. They would have to.