xp_logs | Wendy: The Rescue of Tiger Lily

A beseiged police station, scared, angry cops, and two lethal cyborgs between them and the win.

Protesters thronged outside of the police station; a mix of anti-poverty advocates, students, union men and the normal concerned citizen that likes to protest at ten at night. The hammer the police had brought down on the homeless community in response to the new mayor's 'Tough on Crime' stance had been brutal, rousting hundreds from their makeshift shelters. The tiny collectives of scrounged cover were torn apart with fire axes and long hooks, sending the homeless out in search of new shelter. Their sudden displacement forced them into the richer districts, whose citizens had screamed loudly for more police to remove the wretched.

Cold, displaced and constantly forced from one place to another by unsympathetic police had created a dangerous current in the poor areas. Finally, it went too far when a beat officer was ejecting a small family from their huddle in the doorway of a vacant building. The father had resisted, only to get pepper sprayed in the eyes. Hearing the family screaming had gotten help from an older homeless man nearby. A marine before hard times and a shoddy health system had let him slip through the cracks, he grabbed the cop and forced him away from the women. The cop, new to the force, was shouting for backup as he went for his gun.

Skills learned in the Corp were as automatic as breathing, and as the gun started to come up, the man's knife found the cop's throat. Patrolman Cecil Demokisis died less than two minutes later, his killer never found. The fury of the police was unleashed; an animal that now tore at the streets. Social services tried in vain to blunt the onslaught of arrests that tore gaping holes in the communities, and paper dueled over stories of police brutality and editorials extorting them to regain the streets. Demokisis' death was the personification of the fear of those forgotten and discarded by society, and they wrapped themselves in it to encourage the police efforts more.

Protests had appeared, a mixture of people feeling that the police had crossed the line, no matter how justified they might feel, and tensions soared in response. Thin lines of police held back angry amoeba-like knots of protesters, who surged and ebbed in protean fashion in their condemnation. Both sides were scared, too much to back down.

"What a fucking mess." Remy said from his perch on a nearby rooftop, watching the crowds. He'd been on the streets long enough not to miss the jungle beat of impending danger it broadcast tonight. "De streets are going to bleed 'fore dis ends."

"They have already begun to," Ororo intoned solemnly, the scrap of a front page newspaper article in her hand. "And the ones who will suffer most from it are the ones with the least likelihood of recovering." She looked up from the article, watching as a young man tried to shove his way through the police barricade, yelling angrily and shaking his fist above his head. He was knocked back roughly, stumbling against several others who in turn began to shout even more loudly at the officers lined up in front of them.

"See dat?" Remy pointed down at the edges of the crowd, where there were a couple of men standing, watching. They weren't like the others, hard looking men. "Someone is waiting to turn dis into a riot. Dose are pros out dere, just waiting for de word. Marius was right. Dis is a fucking setup."

"We cannot concern ourselves with that, beyond how it will affect our infiltration," Ororo said. She shifted stiffly, one arm held carefully against her side. "Setup or not, this may prove to be helpful, to us at least."

"We just need to get through into de halls. Den de keycard will do de rest." Remy swung himself over the fire escape and started down the iron slatted steps. "We know de Reavers are going to be waiting in de first place we can find. At least dat guarantees us an entrance."

"Wonderful." Ororo stood and followed him slowly, the jeering of the crowd growing louder as they approached the ground. She was tired of this, and wanted nothing more than to be home again, but she followed him unquestioningly, knowing that they had to see it through to the end. Even if it kills us.

Remy paused at the bottom of the escape, over the dumpster. "I want you to know dat I'm sorry, 'Ro. If I had come up wit' a way to get dose files myself off Arcade two years ago, you wouldn't be in dis mess." He shook his head. The likelihood was that they were both going to be dead in the next few minutes.

"And if I had decided not to meet you in the city, I would not be in this mess. There is no use regretting what has happened, Remy," she told him. "We have done the best we could. Whatever happens now will happen." And then, despite all the pain and bone-numbing weariness and fear, she had to smile. "But if we make it out alive, you are coming to Westchester for coffee from now on."

"Dey only have tea in Westchester. And dose trendy frappucino things." Remy muttered as they climbed down to the street. They knew they would meet the Reavers, but between them, had cooked up a couple of surprises. Against the technological might and the firepower arrayed against them, it was little enough, but it was better than nothing.

Slowly they moved through the crowds, using knots of people to obfuscate their progress as they circled the building. All the obvious entrances were out, mobbed with too many people to slip past. The other areas like the garage and loading zones had been heavily sealed. Remy was about to pass by the impound yard when Ororo stopped him, and pointed at the fence. Twelve feet high, topped with razor wire, and bracketed by two guard posts, it normally presented a foreboding structure. But Ororo had spotted the clipped alarm wire and the glints of metal snips along the support post. Someone had professionally made a door in it. Remy nodded, but motioned that this was likely the opening of the trap the Reavers had waiting for them.

Still, it wasn't as if they had much of a choice, and a door was better than nothing at all. Lowering her head, Ororo ducked inside the yard, immediately moving to crouch behind a beat-up Chevy that blocked her from view. She waited for Remy to follow, then began to move closer to the main building. They moved in seamless tandem now, one watching for movement while the other advanced to the next stopping point and then switching to cover each other's backs.

Remy held up his hand, and she followed the sightline. In the corner, up nearly hidden by one of the trucks was a Reaver, his assault rifle up and tracking the crowd over the wall. Remy crept close enough to whisper into Ororo's ear. "Dat's how dey going to start it. Couple shots into de crowd."

A treacherous shiver ran through her as she felt Remy's breath on her skin, and she had to quash it quickly before she became too distracted. "We must stop him before that happens... there can be no more innocent lives lost because of this."

"Dey planning it here. I'll go after dat one, draw out de other. You stay hidden and jump her when she appears." Remy felt for his own weapon and started to ease forward. There was plenty of cover to work with, but he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched the whole way. Likely that he was, to be honest. Still, he was able to close to within ten feet.

Suddenly, however, their cover was blown, and Remy found himself at the wrong end of the Reaver's assault rifle. Ororo barely had time to gasp before a tall woman appeared in the gap between a rusty Ford and the fence. Ignoring her protesting muscles, she sprang into action, swinging the condom full of gravel, ashes, pepper, and assorted dry bathroom cleaners straight at the woman's face. It exploded in a gray, foul-smelling cloud, and Ororo ducked away as quickly as she could while the cyborg began to cough and retch.

There wasn't another option he could see, as Remy simply threw himself forward. He cleared under the barrel of the rifle just as it went off, the noise deafening him. Wrestling for control of the gun would be pointless, the Reaver's size and augmented strength many times his own. But LeBeau wasn't without tricks, as he reached up and unlocked the clip from the weapon in a blink. It wasn't easy to do, but Remy was raised picking pockets and hustling games of chance. Even injured, few could match his deftness.

The Reaver showed that his own training wasn't negligible, dropping the gun as soon as Remy had compromised it, and grabbed at him. Despite his bulk, he moved with adder-strike speed, and managed to get a grip on LeBeau's shoulder before he could slip away. His first blow took Remy in the face, re-opening the gash over his eye and leaving him dazed. The second exploded into his midsection, lifting him off his feet and sending him crashing into a stack of pallets.

Ororo waited as long as she could for the cloud to clear, though there was still a dark smudge in the air as she propelled herself forward and around to the Reaver's back. The cyborg was near-blinded and didn't know she was there until it was too late, and Ororo sprang to wrap an arm around her thankfully vulnerable neck. Locking it into place, she held on tightly as the Reaver began to thrash about, trying to dislodge her.

Remy pulled himself up in time to catch a kick in the midsection, which left him gasping on the ground. The Reaver stood over him, reaching down to grab him by the back of his head. Remy didn't fight it, turning over and reaching into his coat. Cyborgs are notoriously difficult to hurt, but they did have vulnerabilities where the metal met the meat.

He swung the crowbar into the side of the man's knee, dislodging his grip. As the Reaver staggered, Remy thrust upward, using the thin end of the tool like a knife to pierce the juncture next to his ribs.

There was a loud crash nearby as the other Reaver backed straight into a large laundry van in an attempt to knock Ororo off of her. The mutant let out a cry of pain but held on still, noting with dim satisfaction that the cyborg seemed to be slowing down, just a little. She readjusted her grip, applying as much pressure as she could to the arteries and veins of the woman's throat, her feet dragging on the ground as the Reaver staggered backward again.

Ororo seemed to be doing fine, Remy noticed out of the corner of his eye as he leaned against the crowbar. The tooth ends found purchase against the edge of a panel, and he pushed. With a tearing sound, Remy bent off the left chest panel on the cyborg, with a screeching of metal. A dull electrical crackle follow it, as the Reaver staggered back, holding his chest. He whipped the crowbar around, smashing him in the eye again, and sending him to the ground. The Reaver wasn't dead, but his systems seemed to be shorting out, as if he'd damaged the internal systems with the attack.

The seconds seemed to slow as Ororo waited for the cyborg to fall - she couldn't let go too early, but her own strength was failing and she only hoped it would last long enough for them to be safely away. At last she felt the Reaver stumble, then trip, and they crashed down together in an ungainly heap. Ororo managed to twist mostly out of the way, though one leg ended up becoming trapped beneath the other woman's four-hundred pound body. Wincing and muttering, she tried to drag herself out from underneath, luckily not feeling the grating of bone against bone that would've signaled a break or fracture.

Remy limped over to the door, using the card to open it up. It was over. There was no way they were in any condition to take on the last team of highly trained assassins. Arcade at done well. They'd gotten within sight of victory, and were going to die there.

There finally find the last Lost Boy, and nearly someone else at the same time.

Remy leaned against the wall inside of the impound yard access. His head hurt. His chest hurt. Everywhere that the Reaver had pounded on him hurt, but he was alive. The crowbar had been a vicious touch, but you do not take chances with a three hundred pound steel man. He fished the card out of his jacket and waved it against the panel, rewarded with a click of the door lock.

"Come on, Stormy. We need to get to Flair before de others."

Ororo could taste the tang of blood in her mouth and resisted the urge to spit on the ground. After what they had just been through, it was almost surreal to walk down the clean beige hallway, their steps echoing behind them. She wondered vaguely if there were any other traps in store for them ahead, and then decided that she honestly didn't care. She just wanted it to be over, one way or another.

"Dey going to be Guild Assassins. Good ones, too. 'donna knows me well 'nough." Remy was saying, almost to himself, it seemed. "Dey use blades, easy for de cops to explain away, and gives 'donna pressure to use on dem later. De--"

He stopped and looked back at her. "What?"

Ororo held up a finger to her lips. Just as their steps had been audible, so were another set, though they had stopped as soon as Remy had started speaking. The element of surprise obviously gone, there was little choice but for them to attack. Unless...

"Remy, speak to them," she whispered, inching closer to him."Perhaps we can get through this without an altercation."

There wasn't a hope in hell, but maybe Storm unintentionally had an idea. "You both hear dat? You up for having a conversation?" He paused, using the key card on the closest office. "Sit down and talk dis over. I can offer more money den you get as you kill tithe."

He got his hand on the doorknob that they thought was locked. "How 'bout dat?"

There was a sudden silence, and Remy moved, pulling open the door. The assassins moved, suddenly seeing their quarry attempting to escape. Remy grabbed Storm and pushed her into the doorway, but instead of following, he threw himself backwards against the opposite wall. The move disrupted their rush. They were trained professionals, but they were used to their targets acting like targets. Remy had just bunched them up facing attackers from both sides.

The move definitely gave them pause, though they weren't about to back off now that they had the two in their sights. Without a word they shifted until they were more or less back-to-back, and the woman lashed out at Remy while the man aimed for Ororo.

The flash of the knife under the fluorescent lights warned her of the impending danger, and with little other recourse, Ororo lifted an arm to hopefully knock it aside. To her surprise, the blade glanced off the heavy bracelet clamped over her wrist. For the first time, I am grateful to be wearing it, she thought wryly, taking advantage of the man's confusion to hammer several swift blows at his throat, stomach, and face.

Remy had less luck, the blade sliding through his coat and up his ribs. Again his plastic laced bones saved his life, forcing the blade to only skip off them. He got a grip on the arm, stopping it going deeper, but the woman was rested, younger and stronger. He was about to get gutted.

But one thing the assassins hadn't been prepared for was what they faced. They were good, well trained. Likely among the best, but Gambit had been the best of the best. And now, he was left no other option. He released the knife hand, but as the assassin pulled back reflexively, he struck.

The stiffened fingers of his right hand caught the woman at the point of her jaw, snapping the bone and crushing the fragments up. His fingers curled, driving into the soft skin underneath the jaw and he wrenched. The skin split under the pressure, bone piercing the skin and tearing as Gambit pulled her the other way. Screams bubbled through the ruined face as it met Gambit's hand going the other way.

The assassin dropped like a stone, hands clasped over the ruined and bloody mess of her face. She wouldn't know how lucky she was. Enough of Remy remained to stop from completely tearing her jaw off of her face.

"Sweet goddess!" Ororo gasped, recoiling as the tortured screams met her ears. She could barely believe what she saw writhing on the ground before her, and she looked up at Remy with a shocked and horrified expression on her face. "What have you done?"

"Ended it. Come on." Remy said coldly, ignoring the thrashing assassin on the floor by his feet or the blood dripping down his side. All he could hear was the rage crashing around his eyes, taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth. He could feel the final point so close, to grasp it and make everything easy to solve.

But first Sara. He needed to find her before he could came back and show what happened when you decided to go against him. The assassins were nothing special. End them fast and easily. The Reavers, however? Both of them he'd finish slow.

Ororo found herself swept along with him, and they reached the row of jail cells just a moment later. It was easy enough to locate Sara lying in a cell, stuck in general population with a couple of bored looking hookers. Ororo set to work picking the lock on the door with trembling hands while Remy stalked around the hallway like a wild animal behind her. "There, we are in," she said as she heard the decisive 'click' that signaled the opening of the door. "Hit the button, we have located her."

Remy ignored her, walking into the cell to kneel beside Sara, still looking almost girl-like from the treatments in their shared program. Sara was a mess, both eyes swelled shut, lips badly split, and covered with black bruises. She moaned a little when he touched her, wincing out of what ever pain induced stupor she was in.

"What happened?" His voice was deadly soft and still; a dead sound.

"Her? Fucking cops." One of the hookers said, leaning against the bars. "You got a cigarette?"

"Remy, we need to go." Ororo had already pressed the button on the bracelet as soon as she realized Remy wasn't going to, and she knew it was only a matter of time before someone came back to investigate. They couldn't be here when that happened. "Please, now."

"What did de cops do?" Remy said, turning quickly. He tossed the pack of cigarettes from his jacket to them.

"Brought her in a couple of days ago. Guess she's one of them muties. Some beat was looking for a free blow, and she did some sort of power thing to him. Nothing all that bad, but put him in the hospital." The two hookers quickly split the cigarettes between themselves, and lit one up. "Then when that cop got knifed, a group of them came down, said they were going to teach them a lesson. Dumped her back in here when they were done. Someone gets the shit kicked out of them while in the Tank, they just blame it on the other people there."

Ororo watched the conversation with a growing sense of dread. It wasn't because Remy was angry; if anything, he seemed to be growing more quiet and controlled by the moment. But she couldn't read his intentions on his face, and the cold look in his eyes scared her more than being faced with the Reavers had, even.

Reaching out, she put a hand on his arm, intending to draw him from the cell. What had happened to Sara was an outrage, she knew, but now that they had found her at least she would be removed from the jail and taken someplace better. It was all they could do, for now, and they had themselves to think of. "Remy, let us go."

Remy looked at her, and then at the doorway behind her. To her growing horror, he smiled as the sound of people approaching echoed down it. Gambit as already moving as the door opened, and two uniformed officers came in, looking worried. The riot had started, and the thin blue line had been struggling to hold. They had neglected to cover their holding cells, and two men were sent to make sure no trouble had started.

They couldn't have expected to come through the door to meet a man with death on his mind. The first one went down with a kick in the throat. It only fractionally avoided collapsing his windpipe, and left him struggling on the ground attempting to breathe. That had been intentional. Gambit wanted time with them. The other one found his face grabbed and the world exploded as his head was driven into the bricks behind him. He hung dazed from the grip as Gambit pulled the police baton from the cop's belt and drew it back. His hand moved, twisting the man's head to expose his throat. The only sounds were the frantic kicking of the man on the floor, and the harsh sound of Gambit's breathing as he prepared the killing blow.

"No!" Ororo moved towards him without thinking, grabbing his arm and wrenching it to the side as hard as she could. It had been one thing with the assassins - they had been trying to kill Remy and Ororo and were prepared for an altercation. But these men were all but defenseless, and despite their wrongdoings did not deserve to die. Not like this.

"Remy, stop! Do not do this! Please!" she demanded, trying to keep the fear and dread from her voice. She was no match for him like this, but she had to try to stop him, however she could. The officer let out a whimper, still too dazed to do anything else. "This is not you, I know it. You are not going to kill these men. Listen to me, let him go!"

"Isn't it?" The statement was so quiet as to almost have not been said. Her voice was like a whisper at the edge of his mind, heard across a wide sea of rage. His fingers tightened on the man's face, even with Ororo holding on to his arm. She couldn't stop him. No one could stop Gambit from a kill. No one was good enough.

"No, it is not," she said, gritting her teeth as she hauled on his arm. "Remy, this is madness! You are not that man anymore, and you do not want to kill this man! You have saved lives these last few weeks, do not undo that with this wanton violence." Outside the sounds of the rioting crowd grew louder, a dull roar that seemed to have no end. Ororo gathered the remaining scraps of her dignity and took a deep breath, speaking in the most commanding tone she could muster. "Stop this right now, Remy!"

It was the final word, his name piercing through the haze like a sudden blaze. It was her tone; her authority. His name was Remy, it said, and that couldn't be wrong. Not Gambit. The baton finally fell from his nerveless fingers. He opened his hand, and the cop slithered out of his grasp and on to the floor. He gave Ororo a brief look, the sudden strangeness in his eyes disappearing.

Remy held up the bracelet and pushed the call button. He walked into the cell and gathered up Sara. Both of the hookers had fled. Remy finally straightened up, Sara in his arms. "Let's get out of here, 'Ro. Now."

"I have not heard a better idea all week."