Ororo ducked to avoid a dangling piece of something that was hanging from the ceiling, then clambered easily over some dark debris piled on the floor. Light, light...my kingdom for some light! she thought with a sort of bitter amusement, but no light seemed to be forthcoming and she was left to struggle along the dark corridor on her own. The fitful crashes of rock and broken concrete falling to the floor behind her had faded after the first turn in the hall, and now the only sounds she could hear were an occasional groan of steel from somewhere in the levels above her head, and the sound her boots made as she crept cautiously along. She passed door after door on both sides...some of them clearly marked with a brass plate that said SHOWERS or AUXILIARY WEIGHTS and even one with the somehow intriguing title of EXECUTIVE RECREATIONAL PLANNING...and others that simply yawned into the darkness, nothing to be seen in their shadowed doorways except the cheap, close-piled dark carpet that marked their floors.
She came upon the flight of stairs so suddenly that she stumbled over them, the top of the first riser barking her shins and making her stumble with a hiss of pain. It was a short flight...she could just see the top of them and where the corridor on that level cut abruptly back the way she had come...apparently the end of that corridor was blown out, too, because she could also see the top of the stairs faintly in what appeared to be late morning sunlight. The sight confirmed what she had already suspected...she'd been wandering around down here for a few hours, at least.
Ororo looked back briefly, down the dark hall she had just left, then turned and began climbing up the stairs. A breeze touched her forehead as she neared the top...she turned the sharp corner at the top of the landing and looked down the corridor, which stretched on for several yards, then ended where the wall had been ripped away in the explosion of the missile silo. She paused at the top for a moment, pressed cautiously against the wall as she surveyed the empty hall with a watchful eye. It did seem to be totally empty...and maybe when she got to the end, she might find another way to climb up out of this place. With a deep, shaky breath, she started down the hall, silently praying that no one was waiting to leap out at her as she passed a darkened doorway.
She passed one door...then two. She began to relax a little...the hall truly did seem deserted, and at least now she was getting a faint bit of light from the sunlight at the far end. More doors with little brass plates...MAINFRAME OPERATIONS...OFFICERS LOUNGE...then she paused briefly, coming across a strange opening in the right side of the passage. It was simply a rectangular cubby of some sort, open from floor to ceiling and dark within...and then her eyes adjusted to the dimness and she saw a pair of thick steel cables spanning the space vertically, their taut lines disappearing into the darkness above. It's an elevator shaft, Ororo realized with a shiver...remembering a similar shaft that she had been tossed down by Toad. Only the elevators won't be working with the power out. Figures. She gave one last look into the clammy darkness of the upper levels, and the roof of the car which she now saw parked on the level just below her...then she backed away and finished moving down the hall.
She reached the end of the hall without seeing anything important, then she stepped out to the edge of the decimated floor, turning her face up to the sunlight. A smile touched her face even though the light was filtered through a dense, hanging cloud of dust and smoke...the faint sunlight warmed her chilled, damp skin, and she spread her arms a little and soaked it up, so deliciously welcome after her dunking and the cold, dark halls on the lower level. Her eyes flicked carefully over the open, broken halls on the levels above her...she couldn't see anyone, and that was a blessing, but she also knew that it didn't really mean anything, either. There could be any number of soldiers still around, waiting for them...and she didn't mean to get caught.
So, how to get up there? Jean had said that she was to meet them on the first level...but flying up there on a wind, sailing past all those empty halls like so many watching eyes, was quite simply a stupid idea. She'd be a prime target for any soldier that happened to be milling by...they could pick her off like a hunter in a duck blind. Should she cross the wasteland of rubble mounded up beyond the hall, and hope for a staircase of something in the far wing? No, that was a bad idea, too...she'd be too conspicuous trying to huddle her way across that expanse. So, what other alternative did she have?
The elevator shaft?
Why not? Ororo turned slightly and looked back into the dark hall from which she had come, trying to see the maw of the elevator shaft in the shadows. True, the elevator wasn't working...but the cables were intact. She could climb up them...Ororo began to hurry back to the shaft's opening, wondering if she could indeed do it...she'd never tried to climb a rope or anything like the cable before, but she was strong and didn't weigh much...maybe there was a chance...?
She passed a door on the left...and then there was a step behind her. Ororo whirled back around, stumbling backwards a little with her heart suddenly hammering in her chest. Someone had stepped out of the dark, open doorway behind her, and now they stood just beyond the sunlit area between her and the end of the hall, their tall, wiry figure silhouetted against the morning light and their face bathed in shadow. It was a man, that much she could tell...he took a limping step forward and the sunlight fell away, and as he stepped closer to her she backed away with her hands held out in warning.
"Don't come any closer!" she said.
"Who are you?" the man asked. He stepped closer, the shadows of the hall falling across his face, and Ororo saw it was a soldier, dressed in loose fatigues, a ragged rip in the side of his pants that was crusted with something dark. His face was young, but scarred, unkempt, and rough-looking...and as he raked his eyes up and down Ororo's body she felt a shudder of revulsion. "Who are you?" he repeated, limping a step closer.
"I...I'm nobody..." Ororo stammered...something in the soldier's eyes making her flesh crawl.
"You're one of them muties, ain'tcha?" he asked, his fleshy lips pulling up in a leer. "The Major done blown this place all to hell, and all because of a bunch of fuckin' muties." He turned his head to the side and spat, then regarded her with gleaming eyes. "Didn't even give us time to get out, the bastard. Just blew the whole place to hell."
That's what happened to his leg, Ororo thought. He got caught in the explosions..."Listen, sir...I don't mean you any harm," she said, keeping her voice as even and rational as she could. "I just need to get back to the upper levels..."
"What's your name, cutie?" he said abruptly...and Ororo's eyes widened as his arm moved a little, exposing the black pistol he had been concealing behind his leg. His eyes raked over her again, and he grinned, exposing a row of crooked, yellowed teeth. "You look good enough to eat, sweet thing...what's mutie pussy taste like, I wonder?"
Ororo's mouth dropped open in shock. "What...I...I beg your pardon?"
"Wanna do the dog? I'll fuck you good...fuck you aaaallll night," he said, his grin splitting even wider as he lifted the gun and pointed it at her. "Come on, cutie, lemme see you take it off...before I blow your fuckin' brains out."
Ororo stared at him a moment longer, her mouth agape...and then her mouth snapped shut again in rage. She kicked out swiftly, catching the soldier by surprise as her foot knocked the gun out of his hand...and then she jumped in closer before he had time to react and gave him two quick jabs, her fist pistoning into his face with a wet, crunching sound. He reeled back howling, clapping his hands to his mouth...and she took the opportunity to scramble across the floor...she stumbled and fell, skidding across the tile on her side as she reached desperately for his dropped gun.
"No you don't, bitch!" he shouted. She had it! She had the gun...then her breath was knocked out of her with a whoosh as the soldier landed across her breasts. She rolled over with him, and then he was on top of her, the two of them fighting madly for the gun clenched between them...they rolled again, and Ororo felt the floor disappear beneath her back. They tumbled off the remains of the floor and onto the pile of rubble beyond, rolling over and over and the gun spilling free of their hands. Ororo cried out in pain as they landed at the bottom of the short slope...and then the soldier was scrambling off her, reaching the few inches to where the pistol had come to rest. Ororo's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath...before she could do more than raise her head, the soldier was back...slamming her to the ground and straddling her waist with a grin.
"All right, bitch," he said, cocking the pistol as he pressed it to her temple. "Should I kill you now? Or wait until you've sucked my cock for me?"
I didn't want to do this, Ororo thought...but the rage bubbling up inside her refused to be contained. I might as well just put up a sign that says "Storm is here" in flashing neon lights...her eyes clouded over, and the soldier's eyes narrowed in confusion.
"What...what are you doing?" he stammered. There was a rumble overhead, and he suddenly realized that the sunlight was fading...and then his skin began to prickle as he felt the hairs on his head begin to stand up, one by one. "What the...?"
A bolt of lightning slashed down from the sky, slamming into his back. He tried to shriek...tried to get away as his brain started to melt and his skin began to cook and blister...Ororo saw him arch his back and throw his mouth open, screaming silently at the sky in the split second that the lightning took to strike...and then it was gone and he was sagging to the ground, leaving Ororo limp and breathless from the current that had passed into her body as well. The bolt didn't hurt her, of course...but it left her feeling as if she'd had an orgasm on the magnitude of an exploding sun.
The thunder grumbled again...and slowly the clouds parted, the warm sun shining forth once more. Ororo's eyes returned to normal. She sat up, leaning on her arms, and first surveyed the smoking husk that had once been a man, then flicked her eyes quickly over the empty halls that soared over her head. There were no shouts...no soldiers standing on the edges of the levels and pointing at her with guns and accusing fingers...but she knew better than to press her luck. With shaking, trembling limbs, she stumbled to her feet, then climbed as quickly as she could back up the short slope to the end of the hall. There were sheets of unbroken concrete here...a few of them on the upper levels had fallen only partially, and anyone on those floors could scramble down the slope to where she was fairly easily...but no such luck getting back up again. The slopes were simply too steep. So that left the elevator...Ororo hoisted herself back onto the floor of the corridor and began to head back for the elevator shaft. The cables would have to do...and she would have to hurry, before someone came down to investigate.
***
The main control room of the compound was thick with a pulsing, nervous silence, broken only by the occasional whispers of the two controllers at the panel. Santrock paced the floor angrily, casting furtive glances at the patched-in television screens that showed various views of the compund and the fallen silo, then glaring at the floor. He wanted...no, he needed to go down into the lower levels...he needed to catch that fucking mutant with the claws, mow him down with his semi-automatic and then, when he was broken and bleeding on the floor, finish what the punk kid with the brass knuckles had started. The thought...the plan of what he was going to do to Logan when he found him again made his face screw up in a sort of happy anger...but he wouldn't kill him. Oh no...that would be too good for Logan...and besides, this project was still viable. It was going to work, he was sure of it.
He was going to make it work.
The door slid open and Lieutenant Myers came smartly through the door. He snapped off a clean salute at the Major. "Permission to report, sir!" he said.
Santrock nodded brusquely. "At ease, Lieutenant. What have you got for me?"
"We have a bead on at least one of the mutants, sir," Myers said. "Approximately five minutes ago there was lightning activity over the center of the compound, and of an unnatural effect, sir. I've taken the liberty of deploying a small squadron to enter the lower levels and take the mutant into custody."
"That would be Storm," Santrock mused. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What about Wolverine? Any luck?"
Myers face tightened the slightest bit. "No, sir...but we did find Smith, sir, on level three." What was left of him, he added silently. "He...he was dead, sir."
Santrock nodded. "I figured as much. And the others?"
"We haven't been able to locate them, sir...two of them were spotted by a group of our men, but they managed to elude them somewhere on level one, and we're trying to locate them right now. As for the rest, I have small groups of men fanned out through every level looking for them. We should find them shortly."
Santrock scowled. Myers was his best operative...and the only member of the outpost, other than himself, that had decent military experience, but these mutants were proving to be better at hiding than he had thought...and it was pissing him off that Myers seemed to be having so much trouble. Still...he was doing what he could...Santrock moved his hand to wave Myers away and dismiss him back to work, when a loud beeping started from one of the computer banks, drawing everyone's attention.
"What is it?" Santrock asked harshly.
The youngest of the operatives began to punch buttons on the keyboard quickly, pulling up a sheaf of computer code on the monitor before him. Santrock could see the white numbers reflected in the kid's glasses as he scrolled down through the codes. "Someone has hacked into the mainframe, sir!" he called over his shoulder.
Santrock was across the room in a flash, leaning over the controller with a gleam in his eye. "Where? Can you pinpoint which computer they're using?"
The kid punched in a few more sequences, then a nervous grin split his face. "There, sir," he said, pointing at the incomprehensible gibberish on the screen. "They're in an office on the first level, sir...it's 5A."
Santrock flicked his eyes to meet Myers, his face gleaming in triumph. "You got that, Lieutenant?" he growled.
"Got it, sir. We're on our way." He snapped off another salute, his heels clicking together beautifully...then he was out the door and motioning to the group of soldiers that had waited outside. Santrock watched them booking it down the hall until the door slid shut, blocking them from view...then he turned back to the monitors and rubbed his hands together palm to palm, a nasty sneer on his face.
"Pull up everything they're trying to access," he told the kid at the keyboard. "Let's see what our mutant friends are up to."
***
Rogue peered around the corner with her back pressed against the wall behind her, Remy beside her with his shoulder brushing hers. The hall beyond was empty, but she counted six doors along its length, and every one of them was closed up tight with nary a light or sign of any kind to be seen. This had to be the right hall...but which office was the right one?
<<Rogue?>>
She shrieked breathlessly and slammed against the wall, startling Remy into flinching away. "What is it?" he hissed.
"It's Jean again," she told him. <<Cripes, Jean...will you quit doing that?!>> she thought, flinging the thought as angrily as she could. <<You scared me nearly tah death!>>
<<Sorry,>> Jean replied...and was that a touch of laughter Rogue heard in her thoughts? <<I sensed you and Remy in the hall...we're in the second office on the right.>>
<<We're coming,>> Rogue said, and she stepped bravely out into the hall, motioning for Remy to follow her. <<An' the next time you want tah contact us, why don't you try jumpin' intah Remy's head instead? Ah'm tired of him lookin' at me like Ah'm nuts.>>
This time the laughter in her head was unmistakable. <<I'll keep that in mind,>> Jean replied. <<No pun intended.>>
"Hardy har har," Rogue mumbled aloud. They moved cautiously down the hall, and as they reached the second door, Rogue heard the sound of the bolt on the other side being drawn back. The door creaked open...and then Jean was standing there, looking about anxiously and yanking them into the office.
"Mon dieu...Remy is glad to see you guys," Remy said. He limped into the office and turned just as Jean was shutting the door and bolting it behind Rogue. "Are de others on deir way?"
Jean nodded. "Cyclops is hoping to have the files open by the time they get here." She indicated Cyclops where he sat before the computer, the numbers flitting across the screen reflecting red in his visor lens.
"Need any help?" Remy asked, crossing his arms as he moved closer to the screen.
"Not unless you know how to hack into a military mainframe," Cyclops answered shortly.
Remy grinned. "Well, de professor did say Remy have a knack for gettin' in places he ain't wanted."
This remark seemed to pass over Cyclops' head for a moment...then he slowly turned to stare at Remy, a curious expression on his face. "Are you serious?" he asked. "You know anything about this stuff?"
Remy shrugged, that cocky smile never leaving his face. "Remy know a bit," he said. "Wan' Remy to give it a try?"
Cyclops studied him a moment longer, then nodded. "Sit down, then," he said, vacating the seat smoothly. "Let's see what you can do."
Remy grinned a little wider and sat down, linking his fingers and extending his arms briskly as the knuckles popped. Then he began to type...his fingers flew over the keyboard, and Rogue and Jean moved closer, a look of wonder on their faces as Remy clacked away over the keys.
"Ah didn't know you knew anythin' about computers, Remy," Rogue said softly, watching the coded screen flip by with a bit of awe.
"Dere's a lot about me you don' know yet, chere," Remy replied, looking at her just enough to drop her a clever wink. His eyes flicked back to the screen, and his face sobered a bit. "Hmmm...you tryin' to get into de records database, non?"
"That's right," Jean said. "We need to access the records for Logan."
"Dey've got it walled," Remy said. "Dey probably did dat when we first broke in...de files are all backed up in a remote location."
"What's that mean?"
"It means dat, as of right now, we can't access dem from here," Remy said with a shrug.
Jean and Cyclops exchanged dismayed glances. "Isn't there anything you can do?" Cyclops asked.
"Of course, mon ami," Remy replied cheerfully. "Remy t'ink he can send a spike...de only problem is, Remy don' know enough about computers to get de files to dis computer...Remy can get 'em to wherever de mainframe operations are, but dat's as far as his spike will go."
"What's a spike?" Rogue asked.
Remy frowned a little. "Dat's hard to explain, chere...don' know if Remy can. It's a little like a computer bomb...only you can program it to only blow away a little, like de wall keeping us from Logan's files...or you can wipe out an entire database if you want. Simple."
"Yeah, simple," Cyclops said, sounding as if he didn't believe it. "So if this works, we'll have to find the mainframe operations hub in order to access the files and destroy them...I don't suppose you know where that's at?"
Remy shrugged. "Somewhere in de compound, non?"
"Let's hope," Cyclops said. He clapped Remy on the shoulder. "This is one hell of a gambit, if it works, kid."
Remy looked up, puzzled. "What's a gambit?"
"A calculated move, or a strategy, like in chess," Cyclops said. "You seem to have a lot of them up your sleeve," he added with a smile. "Let's see if that spike of yours works."
"Oui, mon capitaine," Remy said with a grin...and his fingers began to fly across the keys.
***
Forge climbed up the last few rungs of the service ladder and took a deep breath of the fresh air, the sun's warmth shining on his black hair and drying the beads of sweat on his forehead. He was slightly higher up than he had hoped...but the ladder he had found didn't empty onto the first level. Instead he had been obliged to follow it up to the hatch and out onto the roof of the compound. He crouched there now, the breeze whipping about his face the long strands that had come free from his ponytail, and he slowly lowered himself to a crawling position on his stomach as he began to inch his way across the roof to the edge.
Two black eyes peered cautiously over the corner of the flat roof...Forge blinked, surveying the devastation that had once been the main entrance to the compound, now only a heap of broken stone and gaping holes here and there where the floor should have been. Directly below him was the door that Cyclops and Jean had ostensibly gone through...and hopefully on the other side he would find the office they had hidden in. If he could get down there without being seen...as if on cue, the door across what was left of the entrance hall swung open, and a troop of soldiers came out in a disorganized bunch. Forge's eyes narrowed a bit...all of them were heavily armed, and apparently on the lookout, if the nervous anticipation in their eyes was any indication. Forge also recognized the leader of the ragtag group...Lieutenant Myers. The lieutenant's narrow, bloodshot eyes swept the entrance hall impassively, and Forge instinctively drew back, waiting until he heard the echo of their footsteps die away as they entered another door.
There was a sound behind him. Forge ducked down, silent and watchful...then he moved quietly away from the roof edge. Someone was coming.
***
Ororo's head popped up from the small double hatch at the top of the elevator shaft, the oily mechanism that housed the pulley system looming over her head forbiddingly. Her limbs were shaking and trembling all over with the exertion of climbing up the shaft..and when she looked around and saw where it let out, she groaned in disgust and flopped heavily out onto the roof. Damn...the only reason she hadn't used a wind to blow herself up here was because she didn't know where the shaft ended, and she didn't want to run the risk of slamming her head into the top of the darkened shaft if that was what was waiting for her at the top. Instead of a solid roof, however, she was greeted with this opening out onto the roof...with a sigh she sank gratefully down, her fingers stiff and sore from the long climb up the steel cables, and silently cursed the architect that had built this silo monstrosity.
Now which way? She lifted her head slowly and peered around, then began to slide cautiously across the roof toward the edge. She was obviously higher than the first level...but how far was she from the office of which Jean had spoken? The rubble-strewn, cratered surface of the entrance hall slowly rolled into view as she crept closer, and she recognized the room she had been in just before her tumble down into the depths of the compound...and there was the door through which Jean and Cyclops had gone. That must be it...Ororo moved to rise to her hands and knees...and then something crashed into her, pressing her back to the roof's surface with a soft thud and slapping a hand over her mouth before she could utter a sound.
"Mmmphh!"
Forge's voice hissed in her ear. "Be quiet, 'Ro! It's me!" Ororo turned her head just enough to see Forge's black eyes beside her, and he removed his hand from her mouth and released his grip on her body.
"Forge!" she whispered, flustered. "What are you doing?"
He pointed down into the roofless hall below them. "Watching," he said. "A whole troop of soldiers just marched through here, and they went down the hall where Jean and Cyclops said they would be." He motioned toward the elevator shaft she had just emerged from. "I heard you coming and I thought you were one of them."
"What should we do?" Ororo asked.
Forge looked back out into the hall below them, his face a tight, worried mask. "We wait."
***
Remy hit one last button, and his face lit up with a grin. "Spike sent!" he crowed triumphantly.
"All right, Remy!" Rogue cried, clapping her hands.
"How do we know if it worked?" Cyclops asked, an expression of controlled elation on his face.
Remy's eyes flicked over the screen. "We know in...one...two...three..." He paused, his eyes wide and hopeful. "Come on, you zute spike...move your ass..."
There was a beep, then a hum from the computer, and Remy clenched his fists in victory. "Yeeesss, mon ami! De spike is in! We have access!"
Rogue clapped again, then hugged Remy joyfully from behind, and he grinned amidst the praise of Cyclops and Jean, Cyclops squeezing his shoulder proudly. "Great job, kid. Think you can find the location of the mainframe as well?"
"Remy can try," he replied, the grin on his face never abating. "Let's see what Remy can do..." He cracked his knuckles again, waggling them a little over the keys...but before he could touch them the door to the office was kicked open viciously. Jean screamed and whirled around...she had been standing right in front of it, and as Lieutenant Myers and his men came pouring in, the lieutenant lifted his rifle and bludgeoned her in the head...Jean didn't make a sound, but reeled backwards from the blow and slumped to the floor, blood pouring from the wound on her forehead.
"Jean!" Cyclops cried. Remy fell out of his chair in his haste to get away from the door, and just in time, as one of the soldiers leapt in from behind Myers and shot the computer screen. It exploded, glass flying out as sparks leaped from its plastic housing, and Remy covered his face with his arm as it spat and arced. Cyclops' hand went to his visor...but Myers moved quicker, reaching out with a powerful arm and dragging Cyclops against his chest in a swift headlock...the rifle made a sharp click as Myers jammed it under Cyclops' chin, and then a series of clicks scattered throughout the room as the rest of the men trained their weapons on Rogue and Remy.
"All right, kiddies," Myers said, his eyes flicking over them coldly. "Get you hands out where we can see them...and slowly. One false move and your leader here gets the top of his head blown off."
Remy stood up shakily, and Rogue sidled closer to him, both of them looking absolutely terrified as they lifted their hands over their heads. Myers nodded two of his men forward. "Cuff them," he said, watching as the soldiers moved toward the two. "And watch yourself with the girl...don't touch her skin."
How does he know that? Rogue thought in a daze, her arms jerking as the soldier yanked them behind her back and slapped a pair of heavy cuffs across her wrists. So close...she could have turned her hand but a fraction and grabbed the soldier's hand, sucking him dry, but she didn't dare move a muscle with that gun socked under Cyclops' chin. She couldn't tell if he was looking at them or not...his visor blocked out his eyes, but she could see where his lips were drawn back in a grimace as the cold steel of the rifle pressed against his skin.
"Get the woman, too," Myers ordered. He waited until one of the soldiers picked up Jean in a fireman's hold over his shoulders, then he turned and shoved Cyclops ahead of him roughly. "All right, move," he said. "And if I see your hand so much as twitch toward that visor of yours, I'll blow a fucking hole in your back."
One by one the X-Men were herded out into the hall, Myers and his men pushing them along grimly with the tips of their guns.
***
Forge opened his mouth to say something else, but just then the door below them banged back open and the sound of booted feet could be heard. "Get back!" he hissed, grabbing Ororo and pulling her away from the edge of the roof. They laid low, faces down and eyes barely peeping over the edge of the roof as the troop of soldiers Forge had initially seen came marching out of the lower hall...and Forge's eyes widened in alarm as he saw who was being marched between them.
"It's Cyclops!" Ororo hissed. "And Remy and Rogue...and, oh Goddess, they've hurt Jean!" She began to rise, as if to leap down there, but Forge grabbed her wrist firmly and hauled her back down.
"Not like that!"
"Are you insane?" Ororo whispered harshly, glaring at him. "We've got to rescue them!"
"And get caught too?" Forge snapped back. "I know that troop...they're handpicked men, Santrock's finest. They'd shoot you down before you even had a chance to clear the roof."
Ororo stared at him, the truth of what he said reflected in her eyes. "What can we do?" she asked.
"Give me a second...let me think," Forge replied. He crept a little closer to the edge, watching as the troop hurried their prisoners through the door they had originally come through, and he turned over options in his head quickly. He doubted that Jean was dead...Myers wouldn't want to permanently damage a mutant that Santrock might have some use for, and for that matter, Santrock wouldn't kill the X-Men...at least not right away. He still didn't have Logan, of that much Forge was reasonably sure, and the X-Men would stay alive as long as Santrock thought he could get Logan's location out of them. Santrock might even hold onto them as a trump card of sorts...if he did manage to find Logan, then having the threat of his friends' torture hanging over his head might make Logan slightly more cooperative.
Problem one, then, was where they would take the X-Men. All of Santrock's energy would most likely be concentrated on finding Logan...and me, if he can, Forge realized. The X-Men would probably by locked up in a brig cell somewhere in the detention complex in the south wing...getting them out of there would be a piece of cake. After all, he'd already done it once. So that left problem two...how to keep them from finding Logan.
"Come on," Forge said to Ororo. He began hurrying at a crouch back to the service hatch he had crawled out of, and Ororo scrambled after him quickly. "We have to get to Logan."
"Logan?" Ororo stopped, and Forge turned back to her in time to see a blush of high color come into her cheeks. "You found him?!"
"Yes..."
"Is he all right?!" She grabbed his shoulders, her dark eyes searching his face anxiously.
"Ororo, hang on," Forge said, gently pulling her hands free and clasping them between his. "I don't have much time to explain, so I need you to listen carefully. Logan's in bad shape...I mean really bad shape." He tried to ignore the way her cheeks paled, a tremor coming to her lips.
"How bad?" she asked.
"When I found him he was..." Forge suddenly found that he couldn't finish. He couldn't tell her...but Ororo saw the truth in his face anyway.
"No...no oh no oh no..." Her voice broke, and she shook her head, her eyes seeming to search Forge's face for the lie he had to be telling.
"Ororo, listen!" Forge said, giving her a little shake. Gods, how he hated having to act this way...but the wild look in her eyes was uncomfortably close to snapping into something else...shock, maybe. Insanity. "I hid him on the third level," he continued, as gently as he could. "There was no way he could get out in that condition, and he needed someplace to rest, so his healing ability could catch up. I think he's going to be okay, I really do, as long as he has time to recuperate, but, this is important." He lowered his head a little, making sure Ororo was looking at him and that he had her complete attention. "If Santrock finds Logan before he can heal, Logan will die. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," she whispered, her eyes full of unspoken anguish. "But..."
"What? Say it."
"If you hid Logan, how can Santrock find him?"
"Jean knows," Forge said. "I told Jean telepathically that I had found Logan, and that he was hurt...and if Santrock finds out what Jean knows, it won't take him long to put two and two together and get four. He'll know where Logan is...Logan couldn't have got far, and Santrock knows this. Finding Logan then will be a cinch."
"And Santrock has Jean now," Ororo finished for him. A look of fresh horror spread across her face. "If he...if he tortures Jean like he did Logan..."
"Exactly," Forge said. "That's where you come in."
"I don't understand."
"Logan is defenseless," Forge explained. "Someone needs to be there with him in case Santrock figures out where he is, with or without what Jean knows. If anyone could protect him with their powers alone, you could...and I'll see about rescuing the others."
Even behind her fear for Logan, he could see the skepticism in her eyes. "How?"
"Santrock will put them in the brig...I'm sure of it," Forge said. "And I've already busted out of there once...I can do it again." He looked back over his shoulder at the empty hall below them, then took her arm. "Come on...there's no more time."
***
Santrock looked up as the door opened, a glint of hungry excitement in his eyes as Lieutenant Myers strode importantly into the control room. Myers snapped off another salute, a barely contained grin on his hard face. "We have them, sir! Four of them...two women and two men." he said.
"But not Logan? Forge?"
"No sir. We do have the leader though, sir. The one they call Cyclops."
"Hot damn...now we're getting somewhere," Santrock breathed. "Good work, Myers. Where are they?"
"In your office, sir."
"My office?!"
"Under heavy guard, sir," Myers hastened to explain. "They've been secured, and my men are under orders to shoot them if they bat an eyelash."
"Oh...good work, then, Lieutenant," Santrock said. He turned to one of the controllers still at the computer bank and clapped him hard on the shoulder. "See that you continue to monitor the rest of the compound. Notify me immediately if you spot anything."
"Yes, sir."
"Come on, Myers," Santrock said, and he pushed past the lieutenant and through the door into the outer hall. Myers followed...they walked quickly past a few doors, ignoring the scant number of soldiers within that lifted their heads as they went by...pausing only when they reached the door to Santrock's office. He turned the knob and slammed the door open without a break in his stride, noting the way the prisoners inside jumped apprehensively.
Good, you're scared, Santrock thought, standing in the doorway and surveying them each in turn. The redheaded woman was slumped on the floor, her hands trussed behind her back and her eyes closed in unconsciousness, but the other three were bound securely to a trio of ladder-backed chairs that stood in a rough semicircle before the door, a soldier standing before each of them with a machine gun pointed at their heads. Santrock smiled briefly, pleased to see that the soldiers hadn't even flinched when he came through the door. Good men, these...he'd picked them personally, and he never picked wrong.
"Come in, and shut the door, Myers," Santrock said calmly. Myers did so, then stood by the door, his rifle ready and in place across his chest. Santrock acknowledged this out of the corner of his eye, then turned back to the three arranged in front of him. There was a chair empty and standing by the door...Santrock pulled it out and turned it around, straddling the chair casually and resting his arms across the back. "Now," he said, smiling a little as he looked at them one by one. "Let's talk about the Wolverine, shall we?"
***
Forge bent down and grabbed Ororo's hands, dragging her the last few inches out of the pile of rubble and into the hall of the barracks. He had been able to find his way back down with little trouble, but as he helped Ororo to her feet and watched her look about, coughing and wiping the traces of dust from her uniform, he felt his heart sink at what he was going to have to do. I don't want her to see him...I really don't, he thought.
"Where is he?" Ororo asked. Her eyes were wide and dark in the dim light...and even with the dust streaking her face, she looked impossibly beautiful. Forge swallowed hard, then began to walk toward the room where he had left Logan.
"Ororo," he began, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. "I should warn you, he...he looks pretty bad. Santrock and his men..."
Ororo's face hardened a little. "Open the door, Forge."
Forge studied her for a moment, then nodded and opened the door. Ororo pushed past him without a word...then her quick steps slowed a little as she came a few feet into the room, halting altogether when her eyes fell on the silent form stretched across the bed. Forge came into the room behind her, his worried eyes sweeping over her face were she stood, her eyes wide and her hands clasped to her mouth like a little girl overhearing an profanity. "'Ro?" he asked tentatively, reaching out and touching her arm with a gentle hand.
She didn't react for what seemed like an eternity...but then, gradually, the awful spell that froze her in her tracks seemed to break. First one foot moved...then the other...then Ororo ran across the room and knelt on the bed, her hands touching Logan's face, his arms, her slender fingers timidly running over the shoulders of his jacket, as if she wanted to caress him but was afraid of hurting him further. Forge remained silent by the door, watching this and wishing he wasn't, hearing Ororo soft calls as she took Logan's face in her hands.
"Logan...oh my love..." she whispered. Logan didn't stir...Forge could see his chest moving in deep but labored breaths, and the soft sob Ororo gave as she rested her cheek against Logan's bloodied forehead broke Forge's stillness. He crossed the room quietly and took Logan's wrist into his fingers once more, checking the slow, but much steadier pulse that beat there.
It's better, he thought. Not by much, but I do think it's better than it was. He eyed Logan's injuries critically...the bleeding seemed to have stopped as well, but as for whatever was still in need of healing inside Logan...well, only time would tell.
He looked up to see Ororo's eyes on him. "He will be all right, won't he?" she asked him, tears rolling unheeded down her cheeks and leaving clean, wet trails through the dust on her skin.
"I...I think so." I hope so, he added privately.
Ororo looked back down at Logan. "Don't leave me, love," she whispered, too softly for Forge to hear. She brushed the dark hair away from his closed eyes lovingly.
"'Ro?" Forge said softly. "Are you going to be okay?"
"He still doesn't know," she murmured, allowing her head to sink against his chest, the soft fall of her white hair hiding her face from Forge's view. "I never had a chance to tell him..."
Forge lowered his eyes guiltily. "He does know, Ororo," he said.
There was a long beat of silence...then Ororo lifted her head slowly and looked at him. "What?"
"I told him."
Ororo wiped the tears away from her cheeks absently, her eyes never leaving Forge's face. "You...you did?"
Forge nodded, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, Ororo. I didn't want to...I know you should have been the one to tell him. But he misunderstood me...I was trying to make him feel better, trying to give him some hope, and well..." He lifted his head then, knowing how lame his excuses sounded but powerless to lie or come up with anything better. "I'm sorry...I told him. He knows."
He expected her to get angry then, to leap up and start raging at him for this and every other thing he had done to bring this hell down on them...and he was totally stunned when she did nothing at all. She continued to sit there, her hands gentle on the side of Logan's face as she looked at Forge with shadowed eyes.
"What did he say?" she asked softly.
Forge met her eyes steadily...this one, at least, he could answer well. "He said for me to tell you that...that he loved you."
Ororo's eyes seemed to grow a little brighter, but whether it was from renewed tears or something else Forge couldn't be sure. She dropped her eyes to Logan's face, and her hands stroked his stubbled cheek with infinite tenderness. "He really said that?" she asked softly.
"Yes." Forge glanced at the bathroom window on the far end of the room, his face tightening as he calculated the time by the amount of light straggling weakly through the glass. "I have to go," he said. "I can't wait any longer...and I don't want to get caught coming out of here."
"As soon as Logan has healed, we'll come find you."
"No!" Forge ordered sternly. "Promise me, 'Ro...promise me you'll stay here. Make him stay here, if he gets awake enough to try to leave."
"But..."
"You can't let Logan fall into Santrock's hands again...do you understand? He did this to Logan...and he'll do it again." Forge held her eyes with his black ones. "You have to protect him."
Ororo shook her head stubbornly. "I understand that, but you can't get the others out on your own. There are too many soldiers."
"I can do it...and I will," Forge replied. "Trust me, Ororo...I know this compound fairly well now, and I know Santrock better than anybody. I'll get them out...and then we'll come back for you and Logan. Just promise me that you'll stay here."
Ororo said nothing for a long moment...then she looked down at Logan's bruised and silent face and nodded slowly. "I promise," she said.
Forge sighed. "Good. If anything happens, I'll come back and let you know. And I want you to lock the door behind me. Don't open the door unless you hear my voice."
"All right."
Forge met her eyes for a long moment, then nodded. "I'll be back with the cavalry," he said with a small smile, then he got up quickly and exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Ororo stood up and crossed softly to the door, her ear pressed against it as she listened to the scuffling sounds Forge made as he crawled back out of the barracks under the pile of rubble, then she rotated the simple lock with a smooth click and turned back to the bed, leaning against the door heavily. A thick, alien silence seemed to settle on the room after Forge's departure...silence unbroken except for Logan's breathing and the rapid, anguished beat of her own heart.
She left the door and moved back to him quietly, seating herself once more on the edge of the mattress and taking his bruised and bloodied face into her cool hands. He made no sound...she tenderly brushed the hair away from his eyes, then lowered her face and pressed a gentle kiss to his split and bloodstained mouth. He was still in the jeans and leather jacket he had worn when they left the mansion two nights ago. A unhappy smile touched her lips...she gently unzipped the jacket and laid it open, fresh tears pricking her eyelids when she saw the crusted blood on his chest, and the dark, violent bruises marring his strong flesh. "Oh, Logan..." she murmured, resting her head on his chest, breathing in the warm, familiar scent of his skin that could not be covered even by the blood and grime of the horrors they had inflicted on him. Her hand drifted down his arm, the leather cool under her fingers, and then the sleeve ended and her hand was on his. She slid her fingers around his limp ones, the welcome warmth of his palm against hers comforting her a little...and then she saw a glimmer of gold on his smallest finger, which made her stop and lift his heavy hand to her face.
It was a ring...a lovely, delicate ring made of the finest gold filigree, and cunningly fashioned so as to appear like a garland of apple blossoms. Her vision blurred as she began to cry again, the gold circle of the ring blurring too in the dim light. Apple blossoms...like the ones that had fallen in his hair on that warm spring afternoon...so long ago, it seemed. They had fallen in her hair, too...and he had told her to leave them, because he said they looked beautiful. It was just like him to remember something like that...the smallest things always seemed so important to him. It wasn't a diamond, either...the traditional thing to give in an engagement ring. She didn't like diamonds...they always seemed so cold to her, but she had never told Logan that. He had simply known somehow...his uncanny instincts serving him well once again. Ororo closed her eyes, lifting his hand to her lips and pressing a tender kiss to his fingers.
There was a soft sound from the bed. She raised her head, her startled eyes searching Logan's face...at the exact same moment that his hand tightened around hers. She gasped a little, returning the gentle pressure of his fingers, her heart feeling as if it might leap out of her chest.
His lips moved soundlessly. "'Ro?" he murmured.
"Yes...yes, Logan, I'm here. It's me..." she said, her words tumbling over each other in tearful relief. A beautiful smile tremored on her lips as she took his face in her hands, her eyes sparkling with tears as Logan's eyes opened a little.
"...dreaming..." Logan mumbled. He lifted his free hand, bringing it to her cheek and stroking it with trembling fingers.
"You're not dreaming, love...I'm really here," she said. Whether he heard or not she couldn't guess, but he seemed to smile a little then, his eyes drifting closed once more as his head sagged heavily to the side. "Logan?" she asked...but he had lost consciousness again, leaving Ororo to bite her lip and watch his exhausted face in silence.
The room grew more shadowed as a cloud passed over the sun outside. She was mildly surprised to realize that she was trembling, her meager stores of energy nearly at their breaking point. I haven't slept in two days, she mused. And I still can't sleep...not now. Someone has to guard him, keep him safe. Ororo gently caressed Logan's face, then stood up and walked silently to the bathroom. If she was going to be here awhile, the least she could do was find a washcloth or something and clean the blood from Logan's skin.
The bathroom was tidy and quiet. There were clean towels and cloths on a small wire rack by the sink...Ororo wet one with warm water, then went back to Logan and began to gently wipe the crusted blood from his skin. There was so much...she had to return to the sink twice to rinse out the cloth, but after fifteen minutes or so the blood had been cleaned off him, and she was even able to wrestle his limp body out of the shredded jacket he was wearing. She laid it to the side with a regretful smile...Logan had loved that battered thing, but now it was full of holes and desperate looking. Oh, well...she wrapped her hands around the ankles of his boots and yanked them off too, then as carefully as she could, she pulled the blankets free from under him and tucked them securely around his still form.
Now for me. She returned to the bathroom, washing her face and hands well, then met her eyes in the mirror over the sink. Her own face looked back, challenging her with an exhausted, weary expression. One hand stole the smooth, flat line of her stomach and caressed it through the uniform she wore...then she shook herself and went back into the room.
Logan's eyes were still closed. She stood there a moment, watching him with a sad, loving eye...then almost as an afterthought she pulled the blanket back again and slipped into the bed beside him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against the warm, muscular expanse of his chest. He didn't stir. Ororo closed her eyes...only for a moment, she ordered herself sternly...and felt warm tears slip out from beneath her closed eyelids. She never thought she would see him broken...he had always seemed so strong, so undefeatable.
I'm so tired...haven't slept in two days...
She didn't mean to...she knew she needed to stay awake, for his sake and hers...but two days of terror and no rest had taken their toll on her. Within seconds, the soft, drowsy warmth of Logan's body beside hers and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed lulled her to sleep.
***
Santrock sucked briefly on his cigarette, glaring through the smoky haze at the three mutants strapped to the chairs before him, and he sighed a deep and fetching sigh that almost sounded regretful. "I wish I could believe you...I really do," he said. "But I really do think you're lying to me."
Cyclops' face was stoic. "I'm telling you the truth...we haven't seen Logan. We have no idea where he is."
Santrock waved the air in front of him dismissively. "That's what you say. Maybe you even believe that." He got up from his chair and walked in front of them casually, gesturing a little in the air with his cigarette. "I think you might know more than you're letting on, though...maybe we need to help jog your memories." He strolled past them, pausing in front of Rogue, and when he spoke again he did so looking directly into the girl's nervous eyes. "I still have men combing this entire compound, looking for Logan. We'll find him eventually, make no mistake about that...but I must admit, I'd much rather find him sooner rather than later, if you know what I mean." He studied Rogue's face as if it interested him greatly, then shrugged and chuckled. "After all, time is money."
Rogue stuck out her chin defiantly. "We're not tellin' you anything," she said.
"Shut up, Rogue," Cyclops ordered.
Santrock said nothing, only continuing to stare at Rogue thoughtfully. Green, this one is, he thought to himself. She's the weak link, I'd wager on it. And she'll be the one that breaks first. He seemed to come to some sort of internal decision, and he nodded, then turned back to where the lieutenant waited by the door. "Hand me your pistol," he said.
Myers looked a little surprised, but he quickly unsnapped his side holster and removed his pistol, flipping it deftly and handing it to Santrock butt first. Santrock studied it, cocked it...then turned swiftly and shot Cyclops in the leg.
The report was deafening...Cyclops' screamed, his head snapping back against the back of the chair as the bullet passed through his calf and out the other side, burying itself with a shower of splinters in the wood desk behind them. Rogue shrieked in terror, her eyes bulging as blood spurted from the wound, dark and glistening as it splattered all over the floor.
Santrock watched this little exchange calmly, then turned and handed the gun back to Myers. "Thank you, lieutenant," he said...then he turned back to the trio with his hands on his hips, surveying them each on turn. The boy was as white as a sheet, and Cyclops was panting harshly, a look of anguish and undisguised hatred on his face as he glared at Santrock from behind his red-lensed visors...but Rogue had started to cry, big tears rolling down her cheeks as her lips trembled. Her eyes flicked from Cyclops beside her and back to Santrock in terror, and Santrock found himself smiling in satisfaction. I was right, he thought smugly. She was the weak link.
Santrock flicked his eyes at Myers and jerked his head toward Rogue. "That one," he said, knowing that Myers would understand exactly what he meant. "Take her down to the second level rec room."
Rogue's face paled even more as two soldiers came forward to get her. "Please," she said. "Ah don't know anythin'...really."
"We'll see about that, my little Southern belle," Santrock said. The soldiers untied her from the chair, leaving her wrist restraints in place, and began to haul her to the door. There was a sound from behind him, and Santrock turned in mild surprise to see that the Cajun kid had abruptly come to life.
"Leave her alone!" Remy snarled, his anger deepening his accent into a barely understandable patois. "She don' know nothin'!"
"Where are you taking her?" Cyclops demanded.
"I think my men need to have a little fun, don't you?" Santrock asked, smiling without humor. "Don't worry...I know all about the little girl's skin problem...but there's ways of working around that. Oh yes," he added, his grin widening. "I can think of lots of ways."
Cyclops' face paled even more. "She's just a kid, Santrock. Leave her alone. She doesn't know anything."
"And maybe you do?" Santrock asked. Cyclops said nothing, and the chilly smile returned to Santrock's face. "You want to save the girl? Then start talking, mutant...and make it fast."
All references to characters belonging to the X-Men Universe are (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities. All rights reserved. Any reproduction, duplication or distribution of these materials in any form is expressly prohibited. No money is being made from this archive. All images are also (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities; they are not mine. This website, its operators and any content used on this site relating to the X-Men are not authorized by Marvel, Fox, etc. I am not, nor do I claim to be affiliated with any of these entities in any way.