She Walks In Beauty
Chapter 31
by
Libby Edwards
Logan rounded another corner, Ororo hot on his heels...then stopped abruptly, sniffing the air. They were closer now...he could smell Santrock's dank perspiration mingling with the olfactory markers of what seemed to be a whole damn platoon of soldiers...but on top of that were the distinctive scents of his friends...Jean, Cyke, even Forge...
And, he realized with deepening disquiet, two more scents that had no business being here at all.
Ororo stumbled to a halt beside him. "What is it?" she asked.
Logan sniffed the air again, then flicked his eyes to her face. "Why do I smell Rogue and the Cajun kid?"
Ororo looked almost sheepish with dismay. "Because they're here, Logan."
"What?!"
Logan stared at her as she were crazy...but the sound of booted feet running toward them stopped whatever he had been going to say next. Ororo tensed into a ready position beside him, and the ringing snikt of Logan's claws unsheathing echoed in the empty hall...just as Remy came tearing around the corner.
"What in the hell...?" Logan muttered.
Remy abruptly skidded to a halt when he saw them, his handsome face lighting up with exuberant relief. "T'ank God!" he panted, bending over with his hands on his thighs as he worked to catch his breath. Logan stared at him in amazement, taking in the leather uniform...they let him come along?! Good grief!...then the bruising and stripes of blood marking up the kid's face.
"What in the hell happened to you?" Logan growled.
Remy waved a nonchalant hand, still grinning and panting with exertion. "Not'in I couldn't handle, non?"
"Where are the others?"
Remy pointed down the hall to their left. "Down dere. Santrock got 'em locked up tight, all 'cept Rogue."
"And where's Rogue?" Logan asked suspiciously.
Remy shook his head. "He got her in a lab or somet'ing."
Logan's lips drew back in a snarl. "What?"
Remy straightened slowly and nodded. "He took her, an' de lieutenant was supposed to be comin' back for de rest of us."
"What lieutenant?" Ororo asked.
"Don' worry about it," Remy said, flashing a quick, pained smile. "I took care of him."
"How?" Logan growled softly.
A flush crept into Remy's cheeks. He looked away for a moment, his head lowering slightly, and he suddenly crossed his arms over his chest in a protective gesture as he mumbled something incomprehensible at the floor.
"Remy?" Ororo gently prodded.
Remy looked up, avoiding Ororo's eyes but meeting Logan's steadily. "I...I killed him," he repeated softly.
Logan's eyes narrowed. "You?" he asked, quite clearly not believing it.
Remy lifted his chin, his flush deepening but the tough look in his eyes never wavering. "Oui...I killed him. If I hadn't..." Remy swallowed hard but kept the brave set of his jaw. "He would have killed me."
Logan mulled this, his dark eyes locking with Remy's and holding them for a long moment. The kid was telling the truth...he could see it in Remy's eyes. I'm sorry, kid, Logan thought, a stern, but compassionate expression on his face as he reached forward and squeezed Remy's shoulder without a word. A look of relief flitted through Remy's eyes, and Logan recognized that look, too...the reflection of Remy's relief that he wasn't alone, and that Logan at least understood. There was more to it than that, though...but now was not the time to tell him. You've had your first kill, Logan thought. So you're a man now...whether you like it or not. Say goodbye to childhood, kid...'cause you'll never be that innocent again.
"Rogue's in a lab, you said?" Logan asked shortly.
"Oui." Remy nodded. "But I don' know where it is."
"I'll take care of that," Logan said. He turned to Ororo and jerked a head down the left-hand hall. "Take Cajun here with you...find the others. Catch up with me when you can."
Before Ororo had a chance to reply, Remy interrupted. "Where you goin', mon ami?"
"I'm goin' to find Rogue."
"Fuck dat," Remy snapped, his red-black eyes glinting.
Logan's brow furrowed as he glanced at Remy with a scowl. "What are you talkin' about, kid?"
Remy's face hardened. "Remy know you t'ink he's just a kid...but I'm de one dat helped get Rogue in dis position in de first place. I'm gettin' her out."
"Listen, Gumbo, I don't have time to argue..."
"Logan," Ororo said gently.
Logan stopped, glancing from Ororo's face and back to Remy's. The kid's lower lip was trembling...he looked like he was at the end of his tether and scared to death to boot...but there was a steely determination in his eyes that Logan recognized...and grudgingly respected. Remy needed to do this...and Logan realized what else he saw in Remy's eyes. Here was a kid who was just beginning to realize that being a hero wasn't all it was cracked up to be...but he still wanted to go through with it anyway.
"I'm goin'," Remy said, clenching his fists tightly.
Logan studied him a moment longer. He glanced at Ororo, who only met his gaze calmly, then he nodded.
"Don't fuck it up, kid," he said gruffly. "Rogue means a lot to me."
Remy gave Logan a brief smile. "She means a lot to me, too, mon ami. Which way do I go?"
Logan pointed straight ahead, in the direction Rogue's scent was strongest. "That way," he said. "Go get her, kid. As soon as we find the others, we'll be right behind you."
Remy flashed a brilliant grin and ran down the hall without pausing for words or final looks. Logan watched the kid's long legs carry him out of sight, then he grabbed Ororo's hand and started down the left hand passage.
"Remy got away," Ororo said, sprinting along beside him. "Do you think the others did too?"
"Only one way to find out," Logan said, breaking into a jog as he scented the air for some sign of the others.
***
The soldiers guarding them were nervous now, and apparently more angry than ever. Jean had to lift her chin as the soldier guarding her jammed the barrel of his gun against the hollow of her neck, his eyes wide with high-strung tension as he waited for her to make the slightest move in the wake of Remy's escape. They had kicked the door shut after Myers had bellowed out after Remy, one of the guards planting his backside against it as he held a trembling gun aimed at Forge's mid-section.
The soldier in front of her swallowed hard, his throat working up and down as he turned wide, staring eyes at the most senior of the guards in the room. "I say we kill 'em now, okay?" he asked, almost pleading.
"And tell Santrock what when he finds out we did it?" the guard asked.
"Tell him it was self-defense."
A sudden knock came at the door. Jean almost screamed, and the soldier standing in front of the door did scream, a high, frightened sound like a pinched rabbit. Jean's muscles tensed in that awful second, waiting for one of them to squeeze that itchy trigger finger in their panic and blow them all away, but instead the soldier in front of her rounded on the one at the door with a snarl.
"Who the fuck is that?"
The soldier at the door shook his head and shrugged, the gun in his hands jittering up and down with the movement. I dunno, boss, his expression said. The knock came again, a distinctive rhythm of raps on its wood surface, sounding almost cheery. Shave and a haircut...two bits! The soldier guarding Cyclops...an older man with bleary eyes and a nose that bespoke of a few too many gin and tonics...turned toward the door.
"Who is it?" he barked.
"Candy-gram," a deep voice said dryly on the other side of the door. The soldiers exchanged bemused glances, and Jean brow furrowed a little in recognition. That sounded like Logan! she thought in confusion. The soldiers looked at each other again...then suddenly they began to laugh, the tension in the air lifting for a minute.
"Roberson, is that you?" one of them called. "You fuckin' nut..."
Gin-and-Tonic jerked his head toward the door with a grin. "Let him in, Jack."
That's not Roberson! Jean thought, her eyes widening in astonishment as one of the soldiers went to the door and cheerfully began to turn the handle. Dear heavens, can they really be that stupid?!
The door exploded off its hinges in a roar, slamming into the closest of the soldiers and sailing him across the room as a veritable hurricane blasted its way inside. Papers and dust lifted in a swirl of frightening intensity...Jean squinted her eyes, turning her head away from the vortex snarling its way into the heart of the room...she was dimly aware of soldiers screaming, or maybe she was screaming...and in a brief flash before she squeezed her eyes shut she saw Ororo standing at the door, her white hair whipping back from eyes that blazed with white fire, and a dark shape leaped into the room beside her, crouching, a living shadow with glittering eyes and six blades of nine-inch, lethal adamantium poised at the ready. There was the ripping sound of machine gun fire, deafening at this close range...Jean felt something whiz past her cheek, and she did scream then...the wind roared around her, mixed with some sort of inhuman snarl that could only be Logan...Jean tried to bury her face in her shoulder, her hair whipping around her face, stinging her cheeks...
"Muties! Muties!" someone was screaming.
She heard Logan snarl...it seemed like he was right next to her ear, and she felt his warm breath stir against her cheek as strong hands grabbed her wrists. Lightning flashed through the room...she could smell something burning, and there was the clean sound of metal slicing metal...her hands were free! The machine guns ripped loose again, and Logan's hands closed over her upper arms, driving her forward toward the door.
"Go!" he shouted.
She couldn't breathe. Her breasts rose and fell in quick, hitching gasps...but then she felt a strong hand close on her arm...she looked up, her eyes wide and startled, and Forge was there pulling her through the open and blasted doorway and into the surreal brightness of the hall beyond. She saw in a flash of bemused clarity the solitary handcuff still dangling from Forge's wrist where Logan had sliced through the restraints...and then he was putting an arm around her and hurrying her down the hall.
"Wait! Cyclops!" Jean cried. She stumbled back around, just in time to see Logan struggle through the door, Cyclops over his shoulder with his arms dangling limply down Logan's back. Blue-white light exploded in the room behind him, and Jean shrank against Forge in shock as a blackened, crispy corpse still wearing fatigues flew through the door and crunched against the opposite wall. "Oh...oh my God!" Jean cried.
Ororo literally flew through the doorway, borne on her own winds and landing lightly in the hall beyond. Jean met her eyes in shock, opening her mouth to say something, anything...and then a shout went up from the far end of the corridor. Four heads whipped around to look...only to see another squad of soldiers running toward them, weapons at the ready.
"I have them." Ororo's voice was like living thunder, and she turned to face the oncoming soldiers with her hands spread. "Take Cyclops and go. Find Rogue." Her lips curved in a frighteningly beautiful smile as the wind began to brew around her once more.
"'Ro?" Jean breathed in awe.
"I'll find you as soon as I'm done here," Ororo said...and lightening exploded from her hands, sending soldiers shrieking for cover.
Jean glanced at Logan, expecting him to argue, but he nodded, apparently trusting Ororo completely. "Come on!" he said, running as fast as he could down the hall, Cyclops' head bobbing limply with Logan's loping run. Forge grabbed Jean's hand and sprinted after him...just as the storm began to rise behind them once again.
***
Remy ran to beat the devil once again, streaking down the corridor full tilt, his head up and turning quickly from side to side as he passed door after vacant door and scores of empty windows. The halls were creepily empty...Remy had only stumbled upon one lone soldier in his barreling sprint through this military funhouse, and that soldier had dropped his gun with a cheap-sounding rattle and run away from Remy as fast as his legs could carry him.
Like rats jumpin' from a sinkin' ship, Remy thought, and a giddy wash of triumph glowed warmly inside him. Dey know we're comin'...and dey're gettin' de hell outta Dodge. He laughed out loud, that breathless, cocky excitement giving an extra boost of energy to his running...he was passing more windows now, all of them dark, plate glass absurdities that reminded him of the big windows one saw in hospital nurseries...and then the darkness ended and he was passing windows lit up with cold, clinical light.
Remy slowed, then stopped and moved closer to one of the windows. He pressed his hands against the glass and looked in...and found himself looking down into some sort of laboratory. The room was a good two, maybe three stories high, and sunken lower than the hall Remy stood in...putting the window he peered through at the top of the wall near the lay-in acoustic ceiling. The walls and floor were covered in large squares of white tile, most of them bathed in darkness...but the chilly light Remy had first seen glimmered like a scene out of a bad Hammer horror movie in the corner farthest from the window, its illumination broken occasionally by the small group of soldiers in the room. They were standing at ease, weapons held loosely across their chests...Remy counted six of them...two of them at each of the two doors into the lab, one standing alone by some sort of computer panel...and one assisting Santrock as he locked Rogue into a pair of restraints.
Remy's eyes narrowed with anger. He couldn't hear what was being said in the lab...apparently the glass was soundproof as well as the acoustic ceiling...but he could see Rogue's mouth moving as she harangued the major relentlessly. They were locking her wrists and ankles into some sort of thing that kept her limbs spread-eagled, and as the last restraint was locked into place, Remy saw Rogue launch herself forward against the cuffs holding her, her brown hair tumbling about her tear-stained cheeks as she shouted something after Santrock. Remy found himself grinning in spite of the situation...de petite is one tough cookie, he thought with a soft chuckle. And dat's all de more reason to get her de hell outta dere.
But how? Remy tore his eyes away from the scene below him and began to hunt along the walls of the lab, looking for where the doors were placed. An idea was forming...he stepped quietly away from the window and began to hurry down the hall, hoping that his limited direction sense would serve him to go the right way.
***
Forge looked back and saw that Logan was flagging...even though Cyclops was the smaller man, he still wasn't a light load to carry. Logan looked up, saw Forge glancing at him, then stumbled to a stop and allowed Cyclops to slide to the floor. Jean saw it too. "Forge, wait!" she said, and she turned and ran back to where Logan was trying to catch his breath.
"Go on, Jeannie," Logan said, motioning her away. "Take Forge and find Rogue and the Cajun. I'll be along in a minute."
"No, I'm not..." Jean began.
"Just go!"
Jean bit her lip, hating to leave Cyclops behind but all too aware that time was running out for them and Rogue. She gave Logan a last glance, then nodded and started off down the hall once more, Forge following behind a second later. Logan watched them for a moment, then turned and crouched down beside Cyclops, pushing him back against the wall and taking Cyclops' head between his hands.
"Cyke?" he said, tilting his face up for a better look. His eyes searched Cyclops' face, noting something new...the minute tremble of the unconscious man's eyelids. "Come on, buddy," Logan said. "I ain't carryin' your sorry ass all over this place, so wake up."
Logan's head snapped up as the sound of footsteps ringing on the polished floors could be heard sprinting closer...but then his shoulders relaxed as he recognized the lightness of the tread. Ororo...had to be. And it was...she came running around the last corner, about ten yards from where Logan waited with Cyclops, and she slowed as she saw them, coming closer warily.
"Glad you're here, darlin'," Logan said. "Give me a hand here, would ya?"
"Is he going to be all right?" Ororo asked. She came closer and helped Logan haul Cyclops back to his feet, where he sagged limply. Ororo took one of Cyclops' arms and hooked it over her shoulders, groaning inwardly at the dead weight.
Logan only frowned. "Don't know, babe. Only thing I do know is that One-Eye here weighs a hell of a lot more than I thought he would." He glanced at her over Cyclops' sagging head and jerked his head toward the hall behind him. "You do okay back there?"
Ororo nodded. "There's more coming, though. We have to hurry."
Cyclops suddenly groaned, and Ororo nearly dropped him in surprise. "Scott?" she said. "Scott, are you okay?"
"Hang on, let him go again," Logan said, helping to ease Cyclops back down. "C'mon, buddy, wake up," he rumbled. Cyclops mumbled something incoherent, and Logan grinned a little.
"What did he say?"
"I don't know, but I think he's comin' around," he replied. "C'mon, Fearless Leader. Wake up." He slapped Cyclops' face lightly. "Scott?" He shook him again. "Hey! Scotty!"
"All right...all right..." Cyclops suddenly croaked. He groaned again, then he lifted his hands, batting weakly at Logan's arms. "Quit shaking me, okay?"
A huge grin split Logan's face, and if there had ever been a doubt in Ororo's mind as to whether or not Logan genuinely liked Mr. Scott Summers, Esq., it was quickly banished. "Good seein' you again, bub," Logan growled warmly. "You had us worried for a minute there."
Cyclops lifted his head and scowled with good humor. "Didn't know you cared," he retorted weakly.
Logan snorted laughter and helped him to his feet. "Yeah, well...don't let it go to your head."
"What happened?" Cyclops asked, weaving a little once standing. Ororo helped Logan support him upright, and Cyclops raised a shaky hand to the back of his head, rubbing the knot there with a wince.
"No time to explain," Logan said grimly. "Santrock has Rogue, and we have to find the others."
Cyclops nodded. "Story of our life, isn't it?" he grumbled. "All right. Lead the way."
***
Oblivious to the face peering down at him from the window, Santrock blocked out the stream of curses spitting from the Southern hellcat's mouth and drummed his fingers impatiently on the computer panel close by. What's taking Myers so long? he mused.
"You let me outta here!" the girl shouted. She was still crying, but somehow when Santrock and the assisting guard had locked her spread-eagled in the restraints (the same restraints, he realized with black humor, that Logan had been in two days ago) Rogue suddenly got her brass back, so to speak, and began to hurl epithets and rail at him like a pissed-off bar hussy. "You let me outta here or Ah'll kick your balls so hard you'll be wearin' 'em for earrings!" she yelled.
"Bitch is giving me a headache," one of the soldiers muttered. Santrock barely heard him, or the laughter which followed. He had other things on his mind...tuning out the violent lunging and swearing that Rogue was engaged in, Santrock snatched his comlink off his belt, keying the station number on Myers' end with mounting irritation. No answer...no answer before, no answer now...Santrock keyed the number once more, then listened to the empty hum and buzz on Myers' end with a growing sense of unease.
"Captain," Santrock said to the soldier standing closest to him. Captain Faulkner snapped to attention quickly. "Take one of the men and go back to where the other mutants are being held. Find out what's keeping Myers."
"Yes, sir." Faulkner caught the eye of the soldier by the computer panel and motioned him toward the door, and the two of them jogged out at a quick march. Rogue shut up long enough to watch them go, then she started yelling with renewed vigor. "Let me outta here!" she shrieked.
"Shut up!!!" Santrock bellowed. Rogue's mouth closed with a resounding snap, and she stared at Santrock with shocked eyes. The soldiers at the doors flinched as well, but they kept the carefully stoic expressions on their faces as well as they could, and Santrock turned away, drumming his fingers again on the console and thinking hard. What was taking so long? Trouble with the others, perhaps? There was always that possibility, but...
While Santrock mulled over what to do next, Rogue blinked back tears and looked around the room helplessly. Never in her life had she felt this trapped...not even when Magneto had her. Maybe it was because, deep down inside, she had always believed Logan would rescue her...after all, he had promised, and he was a man that didn't make promises lightly. But now...Logan was injured, maybe dying, and the rest of the X-Men were trussed up tighter than a sucklin' pig at Christmas...and with these thoughts Rogue's heart sank deeper and deeper. Her eyes jumped from one point in the room to the other, searching for a way out, or some vestige of sympathy on the faces of the guards, but there was nothing...
A movement above her caught her eye. She turned her head a little, seeking out the source of the movement...then her eyes widened as a head popped into view from behind one of the massive arms of machinery. Red-black eyes blinked back at her, then she saw Remy grin from his hidden perch and raise one finger to his lips, shushing her as he gave her a clever wink. Her heart leapt in her chest...Remy was free! And he was here!
Rogue hurriedly looked away, before one of the guards saw her looking and followed the line of her eyes to where Remy crouched quietly.
***
Remy slowly unzipped his uniform a few inches, then reached a careful hand inside while keeping an eye on Santrock and his men below. His fingers curled around the small, thin box concealed in the inner breast pocket of the uniform...clever t'ing, dat, he thought silently, and as he pulled out the box and palmed it, he thanked whatever god it was that protected thieves and gamblers for giving him the idea to take the damn thing with him in the first place.
Rogue had seen him, but he was pleased when she looked away quickly...the girl had brains, thank God. Knowing that he was here would be an advantage, though, once all hell broke loose...Remy balanced himself carefully in a crouch, then opened the pack and slid out a handful of playing cards, fanning them in his fingers like a poker hand. Blue scroll-work backs faced him...he flipped the hand nimbly, then grinned when he saw that he had drawn a perfect flush. "Good sign, mon ami," he whispered to himself...then he watched as the cards in his hands began to glow.
"This is ridiculous!" Santrock suddenly bellowed. He was punching numbers angrily into the computer console, trying to pull up something and obviously having no luck...Remy watched him casually, then glanced back at the cards. Yep...ready. Gambit gettin' faster at dis, he thought with a grin...then he stood up on his narrow perch and sent the first card flying with a flick of his wrist.
The card whispered through the air, streaking like a small pink comet, then struck the gun of one of the soldiers standing at the side door. He didn't even have time to scream...in the brief second before the gun exploded in his hands, he looked up in bewilderment as the charged playing card flew at him like a demonic Frisbee, then it hit the gun barrel and the weapon exploded with a roar. Santrock and the others whirled on him and stared in horrified shock as the soldier stood there, clutching the twisted remains of his gun and screaming through the raw hole that had once been his face, his shirt on fire from the explosion of the bullets in his clip.
Remy stared in shock himself for a brief second, alternately awed and horror-struck by what the simple playing card had done...but he saw that the explosion had accomplished the distraction he wanted and he took advantage of it immediately. He leaped to the floor and ran up behind Santrock before the major even knew he was there...Remy caught him about the neck with one arm, bringing the other hand clutching the rest of the charged playing cards up and holding them against Santrock's face.
"What in the hell...?!" Santrock bellowed. He grabbed Remy's arm, the fingers clenching vise-like for a quick second, then Remy shoved the cards in his face and gripped his arm tighter.
"Don' move, Commandant," Remy said evenly...acutely conscious, however, of how unintimidating a bunch of glowing playing cards must look. "Dey may not look like much," he added in the major's ear. "But dese cards are de reason your ami over dere looks like a side order of Jambalaya."
The remaining soldiers in the room had their guns trained on Remy and the major in seconds. "Hold your fire!" Santrock shouted. The injured soldier had sagged to his knees, then fell over on his side without fanfare, his clothes still smoking and his hands twitching feebly. It made Remy a little sick to look at him, so he didn't.
"Tell 'em to put down deir guns," Remy said. "Slowly."
"Your life won't be worth shit!" Santrock snarled.
"Tell 'em!"
Santrock's lips pulled back in a grimace of barely controlled rage. "Do as he says," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Drop your guns, slowly."
One by one, the guards cast angry, nervous glances at each other and began to slowly lower their guns, placing them on the floor while keeping a watchful eye on Remy and Santrock. Remy could feel his muscles twitching nervously, his body as tense as a taut bowstring waiting for them all to disarm...and then the door suddenly flew open to the left and an entire squadron burst through the doors. Every eye in the room whipped around in surprise.
"The mutants!" the leader of the squandron shouted. "They're loose!"
"What de...?" Remy managed to say...and Santrock took his chance. The sudden appearance of the soldiers had caught everyone off guard, and Santrock grabbed the playing cards from Remy's hand and set them sailing across the room. Remy shouted in surprise and anger, catching a quick glimpse of soldiers scattering in the path of the flying cards...then Santrock grabbed his arm and flipped him over in a neat somersault, slamming Remy to the floor so hard it knocked the wind out of him. The cards hit the floor and exploded, scattering shouts of surprise through the room, but all Remy could see was stars and the dizzy visage of Major Santrock as he grabbed Remy's neck with one hand and unholstered his pistol with the other, pulling back the hammer with his thumb in one fluid movement as he jammed the barrel against Remy's temple.
"No!" Rogue shrieked.
There was a chorus of metal clicking around them as soldiers scrambled for their weapons again. The room was a confusion of soldiers, all looking grim and terrified as they closed ranks, backs to the doors as they trained their guns on the pair in the middle of the room. Santrock looked up at them briefly, licking his fleshy lips and grinning, then he looked down at Remy's terror-stricken face and laughed. "Stupid fucker," he hissed. "Just like fuckin' mutants to send a boy to do a man's job. Logan too chicken-shit to face me, hmmm?"
Remy blinked, then his eyes narrowed. "De Wolverine gon' come, Commandant," he said bravely. "An' when he do, you're gon' wish you never been born." He watched as a brief glimmer of fear flickered in the major's eyes...then he did something both incredibly brave and stupid. He sucked back and spit in Santrock's face.
There was an intake of air around them, the soldiers clearly shocked by Remy's action...and Remy wasn't surprised at all when the major's face went quickly from shock to unadulterated, all-consuming rage. Remy saw his finger squeeze the trigger, and he had time to close his eyes...see you around, petite Marie, he thought with a pang of regret...then Santrock bellowed in surprise and rage as his gun flew from his hand.
More shouts went up...more guns flew from the soldiers' hands in scattered numbers, while others clutched theirs tightly...and Remy opened his eyes and looked up in time to see Santrock's pistol fly through the air like a bullet and landed in the outstretched hand of Jean Grey, standing behind the farthest computer console with a stunning smile on her face. The soldiers only stared at her, Santrock included, and she dropped them a wink.
"Shame on you," Jean said. "You bunch of bullies."
Santrock's face transformed into a sculpture of exquisite rage. "Kill her!!!" he screamed.
Jean ducked behind the console as the soldiers came to their senses and opened fire...and the room exploded into motion. Santrock leaped off Remy and ran for safety from the crossfire behind his men, and Remy rolled over on his stomach, covering his head with his arms as he peeked out between his fingers. Jean was doing something...or else the electrical system had gone haywire. With a hydraulic groan, the massive steel arms of machinery and arcane torture equipment in the room came to life, swinging through the open space with a hiss like Poe's pendulum, and soon soldiers were shrieking and yelling, rolling and dropping to the floor as another piece of machinery whistled through the air inches from their heads.
"She's doing it!" Santrock was screaming...Remy began to worm his way across the floor, trying to reach Rogue, and he looked up in time to see Santrock snatching a machine gun from one of the stricken soldiers and open fire on the console where Jean was hiding. The steel casing on its front erupted in ripped, jagged holes, bits of metal flying into the air like pieces of torn paper...Sacre bleu! Get outta dere, Jean! Remy thought wildly...and that was when the door exploded.
"Merde!" Remy scrambled backwards, his eyes wide as he began to scoot toward Rogue on his rear. The door flew inward, blasted off its hinges by a beam of red light...and all hell broke loose as the rest of the X-Men charged in. Remy's eyes grew bigger and bigger as he took in the ensuing scene...Cyclops appeared first and stopped just inside the door, one gloved hand on the side of his visor as he began to shoot with calm efficiency, the beam every bit as deadly as a machine gun but much more accurate. Then Storm and Wolverine ran in on either side...well, Logan ran in, his claws out as he leaped into the fray, but Storm flew in on the wings of a hurricane and swept high into the room, her hands out in a warding gesture as the wind whipped around her, sending the soldiers into a panic. Remy had gone as far as he could...something bumped against his back, and he simply sat in awe, feeling his hair begin to whip about him, watching as Logan stabbed first one soldier, throwing him with his claws with all the ease of a farmer pitching hay...a body flew, then another...the roar of the wind grew to a deafening crescendo, and he brought up an arm, shielding his face from the objects that began to whizz through the air...red beams of optic light shot with all the casual aplomb and accuracy of a sharpshooter, and when the return fire began from behind the console, aided by the telekinetic yank of guns from the hands of their owners, Remy watched in awe as one after another the soldiers broke and ran for their lives, tearing through the doors alone or in groups as they began to realize that these mutants, at least, weren't going to go quietly.
"Remy! Get me outta here!"
He looked behind him, and saw that he had backed into Rogue's leg. Her head was down as she hissed at him, her eyes sparkling with renewed excitement, and Remy scrambled to his feet, grabbing the metal cables that attached her right wrist cuff to the restraining device. A bullet struck the overhead support system and whined...Remy began to charge the cables hurriedly, watching them glow brighter and brighter. "Don' look at it, chere," he cautioned.
Rogue looked over his shoulder at the skirmish in front of her, eyes wide...it was the first time she had ever seen the team in action. Another group of soldiers broke and ran...she cheered just as the cables securing her cuffs exploded, the shock zinging up her arm painlessly, and Remy moved to the next one on agile feet...then Rogue's eyes widened further as she saw another person duck through the blasted doorway and disappear.
"Santrock!" she yelled above the din. "He's getting away!"
She saw Logan roar and slice a man's head off his shoulders...then Logan's head snapped up, looked at her, then looked toward the door. Santrock paused, locking eyes with Logan for an endless moment...then the major staggered over a fallen soldier and streaked off down the corridor, disappearing from view. Logan snarled and leaped over the console, using one hand to vault cleanly, then he sprinted through the door after Santrock like an wolf zeroing in for the kill.
Ororo saw it too. "Logan! Wait!" she cried.
Their leader gone, the rest of the soldiers decided to give up. Only a few remained, and all of them scattered like leaves, dropping their weapons and scrambling for the exits with wild terror in their eyes. It was a complete rout...the second cable holding Rogue exploded, just as Forge appeared from behind the console, a jury-rigged machine gun in hand, and Cyclops held up his hand as the last of the soldiers ran screaming from the room.
"Let them go," Cyclops ordered.
"Logan!" Ororo cried again, the winds dying abruptly as she sailed to the ground and landed in a run. She sprinted through the door after Logan and Santrock.
"No, Storm! Wait!" Cyclops shouted. Ororo either didn't hear him or ignored him, for she soon disappeared from sight down the outer corridor. "Dammit!" Cyclops clenched his fists. "We don't have time! We have to get out of here before reinforcements come!"
Forge ran to the control panel just as Remy charged and exploded the cables binding Rogue's legs. "We can't leave yet, Cyclops, unless you guys found and destroyed those files!"
Remy opened his mouth to say something about that, but he suddenly found it very hard to talk with Rogue's arms around him, crushing him in her exuberant embrace. "Remy! You came for me!" she cried, and Remy blushed to the roots of his hair and wrapped his arms around her in return. No one else noticed...they were crowded close to Forge, watching him anxiously as he plugged into the computer system and began to type away furiously on the keyboard...then Cyclops looked up and fixed Remy with a hard look.
"Remy!" he said.
"Oui, mon capitaine," Remy said, releasing Rogue and turning to face Cyclops.
"Go after Storm and Wolverine. Hurry...make sure they get topside as soon as possible."
"Oui!" Remy snapped off a crisp, backhanded salute, then bowed theatrically to Rogue. "Until we meet again, ma chere mademoiselle," he said, and before Cyclops had a chance to say something further Remy sprinted through the door after Ororo and Logan.
"Jean, take Rogue and get out of here as well. Get the Blackbird ready for takeoff and be ready when we clear the compound," Cyclops ordered.
Jean nodded. "Come on, Rogue," she called, waiting for the younger girl to scramble down from where she had been hanging, then the two of them ran out the opposite door, picking their way quickly over the bodies left there. Cyclops watched them go, then moved closer to Forge.
"How much time do we have?" he asked.
Forge continued to flip quickly from screen to screen, answering him without looking up. "More time than you might imagine," he replied. "The soldiers...they're not the real thing. Most of them are hired help, weekend militia rednecks that hate mutants and thought this would be a fun way to play army and pick up some extra cash along the way. They have no loyalties," Forge added with a short, humorless laugh. "I think we did a pretty good job scaring them off, don't you?"
"Let's hope so," Cyclops answered. "Do you think Santrock had time to transfer the files or block Remy's spike?"
Forge looked up briefly. "No...why?"
"I was just wondering...since he looked so busy over here when we first busted in."
Forge's eyes narrowed. "He was at the console when you broke in here?"
It was Cyclops' turn to look confused. "Yeah...didn't you see him?"
"No," Forge replied, shaking his head slowly. He stared at Cyclops for another second, then began typing away at the keyboard again, a look of deep concern settling into his face. "I didn't see him, but I believe you did," he said under his breath.
"Is that bad?"
"With Santrock? Yes, that's bad," Forge answered shortly, sailing through screen after screen and file after file with renewed speed. "In fact, this could be really, really bad."
***
Santrock nearly fell over several times in his mad rush down the hall, stumbling over his feet, a massive painful stitch forming in his side as he panted for breath and pushed himself to run faster. He knew the Wolverine was after him...he had heard the woman shout Logan's name, and then he had risked one quick glance behind him, only to see Logan leaping over a corpse at the door and set off after him without a sound. The look on Logan's face had been enough...Santrock had fled for his life, turning a quick corner and ducking through an open doorway, locking it behind him.
It was an empty office, but several lockers lined one wall. Santrock fumbled them open with his set of keys, his fingers turning stupid on him in his haste, but finally he managed to wrestle one open that was thankfully stocked with munitions...two carbine automatics, three full clips, and a regulation issue stun gun that might just come in handy. Santrock slung one carbine over his neck, the gun hanging down his back, then grabbed the clips. Two he shoved in his belt, the other he locked firmly into the second carbine...then after a moment's hesitation he snatched up the stun gun and stuffed it in the pocket of his chinos. Loaded for bear...yes, but are you loaded for a wolverine? a traitor voice inside his head whispered...he clenched the second carbine tightly in his hands and ran for the back exit from the office, down the set of stairs behind it to the deserted second level corridor.
Escape...he would have to escape, regroup somewhere. Those yellow-bellied assholes he hired had all turned tail and fled as soon as the going got rough, but there were plenty more where they came from, and Santrock had all the time in the world...provided, of course, that Logan survived the little surprise Santrock had left them on the computer console. "Be prepared," that was his motto...and he had been, even down to the possibility that these damn mutants might get the best of him...this time. It could all still work, though...if Logan survived. Santrock actually grinned to himself as he ran along the second floor corridor, listening all the while for the sounds of pursuit from behind. Logan would survive...he was sure of it. That was one tough customer, healing factor or no healing factor...and when this compound finally got done crashing down on them, wiping out the rest of his little ragtag band of friends, Santrock would be far away, gathering a new team, a new squadron, all his previous research safely locked in the mainframe system...and then all he would have to do is retrieve Logan once more. Piece of cake.
There was a hiss of electricity behind him, the sound of popping sparks...and the lights suddenly flickered and went out.
Santrock stopped dead in his tracks, clutching his gun to his chest as he listened to his heart thud in the pitch black silence. His ears strained for some sound behind him...maybe the generator failed, he told himself reasonably, eyes wide and staring as he strained to see through the inky darkness surrounding him.
Didn't you pass a junction box back there?
Yes...but that didn't mean anything...except his mind's eye suddenly had a clear and distinct vision of adamantium claws, slicing through bunches of wires and cables with one fell stroke. But that was ridiculous...Logan could have cut the wires, yes...but to get to the junction box, he would have had to bust through the door to the office upstairs, and that would have been a sound Santrock knew he would have heard easily. It couldn't have been Logan. The generator gave out, that's all.
Snikt...
Cold sweat suddenly broke out on Santrock's forehead. I didn't hear that...I didn't hear that, his mind yammered, and he began shaking his head in negation without realizing he was doing it, staring wildly into the black darkness behind him as he began to edge slowly down the hall. You did hear it, though, that cold voice in his head whispered. Metal on metal...what if he didn't break through the door? What if, hmmm? What if he found another way in?
A soft footfall whispered at the end of the corridor, and Santrock's mouth went dry. He could hear breathing now, or thought he could...heavy and implacable, like a monster waiting in the dark...waiting for him.
"Santrock..." A low growl rumbled out of the dark, and Santrock felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. He swallowed hard, lifting the gun to a ready position as he stared blindly into the waiting dark, but only a low, malicious laugh answered his movements.
"Who's there?" Santrock shouted...knowing the answer already and praying he was mistaken.
"Go ahead, major," Logan's voice hissed from the darkness. "Take your best shot...I think I'm beginning to like it."
Santrock backed up a little more, and almost stumbled when he felt a door open silently behind him from the touch of his boot on its surface. He racked his brain wildly...the second level weight room. Had to be. It was huge...if he could slip in there, he might have a chance of getting away.
Santrock forced his voice to be steady: "I'm going to kill you, Logan!" he shouted, flinging the words away from him with all the bravado he could muster. "And I'm going to kill you slow!"
That soft but somehow monstrous laugh answered him. "If I were you, Santrock," Logan said. "I wouldn't go giving me any ideas." There was another low chuckle, then another soft footstep...and Santrock's limited calm broke. He squeezed the trigger on the carbine, the gun jumping and roaring to life in his hands as he screamed aloud and swept it in an arc across the mouth of the corridor. The sparks lit up the hall like a strobe light, and he caught a quick glimpse of Logan, standing at the end of the hall and jerking as the bullets tore into his skin. Santrock continued to scream and pepper the darkness, watching in the flashes of light as Logan collapsed to the floor...the clip emptied and Santrock flung it away, turning and dashing into the weight room behind him before Logan could possibly recover.
The thick smell of hot metal and gunpowder filled his nostrils...he stumbled over something in the dark, a hard jab from some steel object catching him in the side with a surprised grunt, then he was hurrying as cautiously as he dared, weaving in between the invisible racks of weight equipment on either side, heading for the open gym space that he knew to be on the other side of the weight lines. The carpet beneath his feet ended, and he could hear the soft squeak of his boots on the parquet floor of the gym area...and it was here that he crouched, breathing in and out as quietly as he could, listening for any sounds of pursuit.
***
"Storm! Wait!"
Ororo glanced back to see Remy running after her as quickly as he could. Her sprint never slowed as she waved an impatient hand at him. "Go back with the others!" she snapped breathlessly.
"Cyclops told me to come wit' you!"
Ororo didn't pause to acknowledge this one way or the other. She had turned the corner in time to see Logan slice a claw through the lock on a shut door, then run through it without a backward glance, and Ororo sped up her run in an effort to catch him. She couldn't let him face Santrock alone. Santrock was a cornered animal.
And cornered animals were dangerous.
By the time she reached the office, it was empty. She stopped in the middle of the room for the briefest of seconds, looking around wildly, then she saw the open door in the far wall, the stairs on the other side leading down into the lower levels. Goddess, she didn't want to go back down there!
"Storm!" Remy shouted again.
Ororo looked back once, then ran to the stairs and began to start down, leaving Remy to catch up if he could. She couldn't hear anything at the bottom, but that didn't mean much...Logan could be incredibly quiet when he wanted to be, and she doubted that Santrock would be making noise if he knew Logan was after him...
She reached the bottom of the stairs...and the lights sputtered abruptly and went out. Ororo halted in sudden nervousness, one hand pressed against the cool cement surface of the wall as she listened into the dark apprehensively. "Mon dieu!" Remy muttered somewhere above her. She didn't want to risk hushing him and breaking the silence, but that plan was ruined when he suddenly bumped into her in the dark, startling a curse from him.
"Stormy?" he whispered nervously. "Please tell me dat you."
"Yes, it's me...now hush!" she whispered. They stood in anxious silence, ears straining into the dark as they listened for some sound of movement up ahead. Ororo could feel Remy pressed against her back lightly, his chest moving with his slow breaths as they listened in silence, and she found herself suddenly glad that he had followed. The dark surrounding them was somehow ominous...it was good not to be alone.
Machine gun fire erupted in the darkness far in front of them. Ororo jumped and bit back a scream, Remy's hand grabbing her arm in startled fear as he reacted to the sound as well. It seemed to go on forever, ricocheting off the walls somewhere far ahead, but whoever was firing was obviously pointing away from them, or there was a turn in the corridor somewhere up ahead, because not a single bullet found its way to where they huddled at the base of the stairs. After an endless moment the firing stopped...the silence falling again even heavier in the ringing aftermath of the gunfire.
"What was that?" Ororo breathed anxiously.
"I don' know," Remy whispered back. "But what do we do now?"
Ororo took a deep breath, her eyes wide as she stared into that brooding darkness. "We...we keep going," she replied. "We have to find Logan. Come on." She started away from the wall slowly, then began to force herself to pick up the pace as she heard Remy leave the stairs and fall into quick step beside her. "Stay close," she whispered. "I have no idea where we are, and I don't want us to get separated."
"Oui, if we get lost, better to do it together, non?" Remy chuckled nervously. He fell silent, then Ororo felt his fingers touch hers in the darkness as he walked beside her. She took his hand gratefully, linking their fingers like two lost children, and they walked hand in hand into the crouching shadows.
***
Santrock could feel himself shaking all over. He listened for pursuit, his head cocked to the side unconsciously as he fumbled the second carbine off his back and slammed one of the extra cartridges into the hasp. He knew he hadn't killed Logan...but maybe he had enough ammo to slow him down. At least until he could effect an escape. He hunched in the darkness, his eyes slowly adjusting to what dim light came in. There were a pair of narrow, dirty windows high up on the wall, just under the ceiling, but apparently night had fallen again outside and the bare light that came through was only sufficient to cast a thin, lighter area of shadow across the floor directly in front of where he crouched. It was a serendipitous trick, though...it made the shadows against the lockers where he hid that much deeper, and maybe...just maybe...he could pass detection if and when Logan came crawling in here. Crawling was all he should be able to do, Santrock fervently hoped. Let his healing factor still be on the outs...please.
"I know you're here, Santrock."
Santrock screamed thinly before he could think to keep quiet, the suddenness of Logan's low snarl from the surrounding darkness making him scramble to his feet, clutching the carbine in front of him in a mounting panic. His beady eyes flicked over the room, filled with its empty, looming shadows...where was he? Something made a dull creak to his left, and he pivoted on his heels and opened fire in the direction, screaming in a blind panic and rage as the sparks sent the shadows dancing...he swept the gun in an arc, spraying the gym with bullets...then far quicker than he would have liked, the clip was empty, the trigger making useless clicking noises under his finger.
"Missed me," Logan laughed from the darkness, the laugh full of vicious anticipation...Santrock felt a sudden overwhelming urge to vomit, and he forced his gorge down, trying to reclaim some kind of equilibrium as he faced down the enemy. He wanted to open his mouth and shriek back at Logan, and get back some of his former power over this fucking mutant...just a mutant, for God's sake!...but he didn't dare. Speaking would only give away his hiding place, and as long as Logan didn't know exactly where he was, Santrock still had some kind of advantage. Santrock stripped the empty clip from the gun as quietly as he could, then slammed the last cartridge in with shaking hands, wincing at the seemingly loud click that came as it slipped home. He waited with baited breath, wondering if the click had given him away.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Logan mocked softly.
Santrock breathed a silent sigh of relief...so far, so good. Logan obviously didn't know where he was...yet. That gave him a chance...a small one, but a chance nevertheless. Santrock stilled his breathing and leaned against the lockers behind his back, holding the carbine ready across his chest as he listened for the sound of Logan's possible approach. There was nothing, though...only a steady, throbbing silence that caressed the cold sweat dripping down his face.
"Know what I'm gonna do when I find you?" Logan whispered, the sibilant hiss of his voice carrying eerily well in the pitch black darkness. "I'm gonna unzip your guts, Santrock...slowly. You ever wonder what your insides look like?" he asked, as if sincerely interested. There was a pause, during which Santrock closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound of Logan's voice without luck. Silence closed in around him...and he listened, trying to hear the sounds of Logan's movements. He was being stalked...hunted. It was a feeling he didn't like.
"How much did you read in that report of Forge's?" Logan asked. This time the low, dark rumble of his voice came from somewhere to his right, and Santrock's body jerked that way quickly, gun at the ready. "You must not have read very far," Logan continued softly. "I'm guessing you got to the part about my healing factor and stopped."
What's he talking about? Santrock thought wildly. I read the entire thing...all of it! He searched his mind frantically, wondering what Logan could possibly be referring to that put that confident, deadly overtone in his voice... accelerated healing factor...uncharted regenerative capabilities...enhanced senses...
Enhanced senses.
Santrock's mouth went dry. He raised his head, staring in sudden, dawning terror into the surrounding, waiting darkness, and felt the first real fingers of abject fear creep their way slowly up his back, like the icy hand of death on his sweaty skin. Enhanced senses...Logan already knew where he was. Logan was playing with him...teasing and stalking the way a cat stalks a mouse. Santrock swallowed painfully, suddenly aware that he had no spit to swallow with, and listened to Logan's mocking laughter drift out of the shadows that surrounded him.
"Logan?" he called to the darkness. No use keeping quiet now...Santrock held his voice as steady as possible, trying to convey the power and authority that had resided there until a few minutes ago. "Listen!" he said. "Let's make a deal, okay?"
There was no answer, and Santrock allowed himself to feel the tiniest bit hopeful. "It's a good deal, Logan. You let me leave, and I turn over all the files on you, and the others, if that's what you want." He swallowed again, then smiled into the darkness, hoping it would be heard in his voice. "And I'll give you my word that no one from the military will bother you and your friends again!"
Logan's answering growl sent chills up Santrock's spine. "Did you give me a deal when you made me your lab rat?" Logan snarled softly. "How about when you shot me full of holes, more times that I can count? How about the flame thrower, Major? Or the acid wash? That was a lot of fun."
"It...it was a mistake," Santrock stammered, getting more nervous by the second. "This is an honest deal I'm offering you, Logan. Don't be a fool..."
"How about I make you another deal?" Logan said. "How about I give you everything you gave me...with interest?"
Santrock opened his mouth to protest, to try to reason with him...and there was a soft step from the direction of the door. It wasn't Logan, he was sure of it...Logan's soft, menacing growl was coming from somewhere ahead and to the left, away from the door, so this had to be someone else...but who? Logan fell silent as well, and Santrock strained his ears into the silence, trying to hear the soft approach of their unexpected visitor.
More waiting silence...then a soft feminine voice called softly from the direction of the door. "Logan?"
Logan's response was immediate. "'Ro, get outta here! Now!"
The next few seconds happened too quickly to register...Santrock heard Ororo stumble quickly across the room, ignoring Logan's command...maybe she didn't realize Santrock was here, but that didn't matter...there was a flash of rosy light, and Santrock had a brief glimpse of the Cajun kid, holding a glowing playing card between his fingers, his features thrown into relief...and then Ororo was visible beside him. Santrock's quick reflexes still served him well, even in his fear, and he launched himself across the room toward them before either had a chance to react. One quick, pistoning punch knocked the card from Remy's hand, sending him to the floor in a skidding heap and sending the charged card flying, where it exploded in mid-air. Ororo screamed as Santrock grabbed her around the waist, pinning her arms to her sides as he jammed the barrel of the gun under her chin triumphantly...and then the darkness and silence fell again, except for Ororo's quick, frightened breathing and the pounding of his heart in his ears.
"I've got her, you worthless fuck!" Santrock screamed into the darkness. "Come even one step near me and I'll blow her goddamn head off!"
There was silence...then the darkness exploded. Logan's snarl of rage was everywhere, and then in one impossible second Santrock's head was grabbed in a vise-like grip, snapping his head backwards as the sound of Logan's claws whistling by his head filled the air. Logan's claws sliced cleanly through the barrel of the carbine in the same second he tore Ororo from the Major's grasp, sending her flying...and then Logan had Santrock in a powerful headlock, the tips of the claws on his right hand pricking the skin of Santrock's neck as he held them steady, ready to slice him open with the slightest flick of his wrist. Light flared again...Santrock's eyes were wide with terror as he saw Remy charge another card, its soft, deceiving glow flaring up and flickering across his face like a candle flame. Remy's mouth was hanging open in shocked surprise, staring not at Santrock but at the man who held him in his iron grip, as Ororo came slowly to her feet beside Remy, her face stunned and pale in the card's ghostly pink glow.
Ororo met Logan's eyes, her own wide and somehow shocked. Santrock had stiffened completely, held tight under Logan's locked arm, the edges of Logan's razor sharp claws poised just under the major's chin. That wasn't what made Ororo shiver, though...it was the totally cold, black look in Logan's glittering eyes.
"Get out of here, 'Ro," Logan said softly.
Ororo stared at him, her head beginning to shake slowly, but when Logan flicked his eyes to Remy's face, he saw that the kid understood. "C'mon, chere," Remy said, taking Ororo's arm and attempting to pull her away. "You don' want to see dis."
"I don't..." Ororo began.
"There's things I'm capable of that I don't want you to see, darlin'," Logan said calmly...but the black darkness in his eyes seemed to deepen. "Now get out of here. Go with Remy...I'll be right behind you."
Ororo met that black look in Logan's eyes, searched it...then looked away, afraid of what she saw there. Without a word she grabbed Remy's hand and the two of them hurried out the door, the darkness falling behind them as Remy's card disappeared into the hall beyond. That light failing, finally, was what broke Santrock at last...he felt his bladder let go in a warm rush, but he was too far gone to care. Logan's arm tightened around his neck, the claws sank in a little, bringing sharp pricks of pain, the feel of blood trickling sluggishly down his neck, and Santrock began to beg, all pride vanishing in the wake of that implacable silence.
"Oh God, please," he whimpered. "Please...kill me quickly...don't hurt me. Please...please..."
Logan laughed softly in his ear, the sound utterly devoid of mercy. "Oh, I intend to hurt you a lot," he whispered. "Cross my heart. You're going to hurt in ways you never imagined."
***
Ororo and Remy were halfway down the hall when the screaming started behind them, Santrock's agonized shrieks chasing them down the hall and echoing off the walls. Neither paused...their eyes met for a terrified moment, then they were racing up the stairs as fast as they could, leaving the sound of Santrock's final agonies behind...before the horrible sound left them shrieking and insane themselves.
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