"Hank? How is our progress?"
"We're doing very good on time Professor," answered a blue, fuzzy man answered from in front of the X-Jet. Hank, A.K.A Beast was currently piloting the Jet to New Orleans. "At this rate, we will make it there in a few seconds. Do you know who it is we're looking for?"
Charles nodded. "He's somewhere down in the city, causing chaos."
Hank looked towards him. "Should we be worried?"
"I don't think so," Charles answered, "Remy is only a child."
Raven smiled. "So that's the kid's name, Charles."
Charles looked at his sister. He noticed that after Cuba, his sister seemed to take more pride in her true form, choosing more often than not to stay in her naturally blue skin. Charles was very proud that her insecurities seemed to be a thing of the past.
"Yes Raven," Charles, "At least when he's not calling himself Gambit."
Sean, who sat behind Raven, decided to join the conversation, "So what is his power."
Charles shrugged. "Not exactly sure."
Erik raised his eyebrow. "You don't know Charles? I thought that you would be able to tell the powers of anyone using your telepathy?"
Charles shrugged again. "I probably could," he admitted, "but that- more often then not- takes more probing than I'm comfortable with. This boy is a stranger to me after all."
Erik nodded, accepting the answer.
In a dark room, a large group of people were in a large room. Eight of these people were sitting in the a circular table while, in front of them, two lone figures stood. These ten figures were then surrounded by a large crowd that stood by, watching the proceedings.
"We should further investigate these people," said the taller figure standing in front of the panel.
The panel was looking at few photographs and files taken by many servants that they had in their employ. These figures were of a group of humans and in the files were the information they had on them, which was very little, but considering these were taken from the human's American government, that may not be too surprising.
"What do we know of them?" One from the panel asked.
"Nothing particularly useful," the other person standing in front of the council answered. "All we really know are their names and some of their history and whatever was witnessed of their abilities. One of them, the metal mover known as Erik Lensherr, I have no idea where he came from. All I know for sure about him is that he was a Holocaust survivor and that is only evident by a brand on his left arm. It is unknown which camp he was held in, but that is not too surprising. These Nazis as they were called, were known not to keep records of these prisoners."
The panel spared each other shared looks of suspicion and exasperation. What was it with these governments and their lack of information of their own people? Idiots.
"They have no ties to any agencies or anything of the sort. The girl known as Raven Darklom was said to have been adopted into the Xavier family, but I cannot find any adoption records to prove that. I cannot even find a birth certificate for her."
"So, in other words, you have absolutely nothing?" One of the panel members, a female, snapped.
"Yes," responded the taller person standing directly in front of the panel. "Which is all the more reason why we should do further investigation of these people. Perhaps capture them so that we may be able to interrogate them."
"I do not feel that that is necessary," the shorter person responded. "These people have done nothing to show us that they mean us any harm. We have no reason to even believe that they know of our existence."
"Done nothing to prove themselves a threat to us?" The taller person asked skeptically. "Returning missiles to fire unto their enemies has not been enough proof? What about reading minds? Or taking the shape of others? What about the weapon that is Alex Summers? Not threatening enough for you yet Godric?"
"Eric...," the one known as Godric growled threatening.
"I mean no disrespect," Eric said quietly, bowing his head to the one next to him, before turning back to the panel. "But we must act. We do not know for sure that they are not a threat to us. And even if they are not a threat to us, what of the others like them? We have no way of truly knowing. We should question them. At least so that we can be certain."
The panel looked thoughtfully to each other.
"That certainly sounds reasonable," the one sitting in the center of the panel answered. "These mortals will continue to be observed until we finally decide that it is time to make contact. We will reconvene in two weeks time."
Everyone nodded in understanding.
A boy ran throughout the streets of New Orleans, down into the French Quarter.
"Come back here you little bastard?" Yelled a man, a shopkeeper who was running after the boy. "Come back here with that!"
The boy, Remy, didn't even look back. Only continued to run until he was sure that the shopkeeper could no longer see him and then ran into an alley. He leaned against one of the sides of the alley and sighed. 'I got away,' he thought to himself before he took out one of the treats that made up his stolen goods, a chocolate chip cookie. He brought the cookie closer to his lips; bent on devouring his prize.
But someone else has other thoughts.
Remy didn't even notice the others until he was being grabbed by a pair of long arms in a rough embrace that made him drop his cookie. Remy struggled against the arms.
"Well, well." A man walked in front of Remy, taking in the sight. The little boy stiffened at the sound of that voice. The man holding him looked down at Remy with distaste. "Glad to have you back Remy," the man said. "It has been so long." the man turned to the one that was holding Remy hostage. "Get him in the car." Remy struggled against the grip, but it was no use.
Charles, Erik and the rest of the team, recently christened the X-men got off the X-Jet. Hank had successfully landed the jet just outside of the French Quarter and right next to the Mississippi River. The cloaking device on the jet was activated. The two adults turned towards their young charges.
"Alright everyone," Charles said. "We are about to walk into the city."
"Thank you for stating the obvious," Raven sarcastically answered.
Charles smiled sadly. "Unfortunately this is a time where we must be serious. We must travel to the into the French Quarter. And we must leave quickly."
"What's the matter?" Sean asked.
"Remy's mind was in distressed," Charles said gravely. "I think he's in trouble. Even now he seems to still be in distressed so it's imperative that we find him."
"Can you tell us exactly where he is Charles?" Erik asked.
Charles became thoughtful before shaking his head. "I don't know... I could track his mind to find him if I were close enough for that but... for some reason he seems to be moving very quickly out of my range."
Hank nodded his head. "What exactly do we do now Professor?"
"I'm hoping that once we reach the French Quarter he'll be back in my range," Charles explained.
"Then hopefully you'll be able to give us a location," Erik said, finishing the thought.
Charles nodded. "Exactly. But we need to move quickly. He just seems to be going farther and farther away."
"Then what the hell are we waiting for?" Alex asked.
The team came up with a quick plan. Charles used his telepathy to change the way other people view him so that no one would notice his blue fur and Raven shape-shifted back into her blonde hair and blue eyes. Not wanting to attract unwanted attention, they all, except Alex and Sean, quickly changed into their civilian clothes before the headed over to the French Quarter. Once they where within the city they split up to cover more ground; Hank and Raven went one way, Sean flew throughout the area while holding Alex by his arms. Erik and Charles quickly walked towards the area that Charles was last able to read Remy's mind. It led them to a candy store. Both men walked into the empty store. The shopkeeper was the only one inside and he stood behind the counter reading the local newspaper. "Hello," Charles called.
The shopkeeper looked up from his paper and smiled. "Well hello there," the man said with a southern accent. "Is there anything that I can help you with?"
"Yes," Charles said with a smile. "Earlier today a young man came into your store and stole from you. You chased him out but you never got your products back. I'm here to pay for whatever the young boy may have taken and I was wondering if you may have seen him again?"
The shopkeeper's smile became more strained. "Oh, well that won't be necessary."
"Oh please, I insist," Charles said, taking out his wallet. "Now how much did he steal?"
"That isn't necessary." The shopkeeper explained. "That young man's father already came in here earlier. He took care of paying for it." Erik and Charles shared a look.
"Mr. LeBeau must have forgotten to mention that," Charles said almost absentmindedly. "Thank you. Have a good day." The shopkeeper nodded and waved as the two men finally left the store.
"Very smooth Charles," Erik said. "I didn't think that you had it in you to lie like that."
"Well I do my best," Charles said. "Never know when I have to be able to think of a quick one on the sly."
"And we still don't know anything that will help us find the boy," Erik growled.
"Ah, but we do Erik," Charles quickly explained. "That shopkeeper told us that he already met Remy's father. What he didn't tell us- at least out loud anyway- was that the man that claimed to be Remy's father had shown up to that store and paid for the stolen items an hour before Remy stole those items."
"So someone set the lad up," Erik said.
"Exactly." Charles agreed. "I have a bad feeling... we must find him quickly."
"Can you sense him now?" Erik asked
Charles nodded. "Faintly... he's projecting his fear quite loudly but he's moving far out of the district. We must be quick if we hope to catch up."
With that thought in mind, Charles quickly contacted the team telepathically and told them to make it back to the jet. All members ran quickly.