xp_logs | The House of Marinette Bwa-Chech

The X-Men infiltrate Mordo's building and disrupt the ritual. Despite the high security and the potential complications, the operation, in the end, is like clockwork.

Logan adjusted the EMT windbreaker he was wearing and then checked his shave. He'd just cut all his facial hair off maybe five minutes ago, and he could already feel the faint beginnings of bristles poking through his skin. He had maybe ten minutes, fifteen on the outside, before his sideburns grew back in and the gig was up. "Final check. Got a 911 call about a potential heart attack. We're the first responders. I let you do all the talking until we're in." he told his short and purple companion.

Clarice nodded, pulling her long hair into a pony tail and checking her supplies. Just because it wasn't a real call did not mean she would not really be prepared. "You push the stretcher," she agreed, "I dazzle them with medicalese. And it's good practice since I'm going back to EMS this summer," she'd only been a full X-Man for a few months now and was usually fairly nervoud before a mission, but this one she was confident on. Maybe it was the absence of her leather uniform or the EMS jumpsuit, but she just felt confident. It was a good feeling.

Logan cracked a very slight grin. "Let's be bad guys." he said in a fairly good impression of The Man They Call Jayne. He got behind the stretcher and then waited for his partner to officially start the op. "Let's do this." He had his own "doctor's bag" under the stretcher, with some tools in it that had very little to do with medicine as it was usually practiced. Finally, he pulled his hat's brim down low over his eyes.

"Aim to misbehave," she replied with a matching grin, quoting Mal. TV shows and movies tended to be group experiences so it wasn't uncommon for several people to quote from them back and forth.

Throwing open the ambulance doors, they pulled the stretcher out and Clarice strode quickly into the building, back straight and head up. "EMS!" she called out to the concierge, projecting her voice but not shouting.

"Possible myocardial infarction on 13," she said gesturing for the flustered conceirge girl to override the elevator for them. Poor girl was barely older than Clarice. Sometimes, life wasn't fair.

Logan pushed the stretcher along, kept his eyes down and his ears and nose open. So far he wasn't seeing any real danger signs yet. He tried his damndest to project an air of "Busy saving lives, I have no time for you" attitude. With luck, it'd keep the gawkers away.

"No one told us about anything," a male voice interrupted from the elevator. From his uniform, Clarice assumed he was security.

Clarice fixed the security guard with a look of steel, "You let us up there or we can call for a hearse and let you explain why you have an unexpected vacancy. Your call."

Logan looked at the guard. They were comfortably inside their time window but if they had to sit there and dick around with the guard things could get tight. "Ride up with us, then." he suggested to the guard. "But we're going." His grip on the stretcher tightened to the point where Logan could feel the metal in his hand grinding a little.

It was a tight fit in the elevator with the three adults and the stretcher, but they managed with Clarice wedged on one side of the cot and the secuity guard and Logan on the other. Some elevators were just not built for anything other than vertical people.

Logan looked over at Clarice and quirked an eyebrow. Their physical arrangement wasn't the best by any stretch but Logan could make it work. As soon as she reached into her EMT kit-bag to prep the needle Logan went into action. Instead of the accidental bump they had planned on Logan moved fast to put the guy into an immobilizing choke and to extend his arm towards Clarice so that she could put the guy under safely. It was going to be chancier than they would have preferred but they had to play the hand they were given.

She shrugged minutely, there wasn't that much room in the elevator. With the needle prepped, she swabbed the guards forearm and jabbed the needle into the muscle quickly. As an EMT she wasn't qualified to give injections, but she had been trained to in the medlab for this mission. And this wasn't a real call either. "Sleep tight," she whispered as he was knocked unconscious.

Without a word Logan grabbed his kit bag from under the stretcher. He grabbed Neal the Security Guard's pass and tossed it to Clarice before digging his com unit out of his bag and putting it into his ear, threading it down and plugging it into the transmitter. "Com check 1-2-3." he said expressionlessly and then climbed on top of the stretcher to pop the top hatch of the elevator. "Stay focused, Tink." he told Clarice with a slight frown at the absolutely retarded code-name. She needed something better. "In and out in the blink of an eye. You know the drill." he said before slinging his bag onto his back and reaching up and pulling himself through the top hatch of the elevator.

---

This was the power that Mordo had come to worship Selene for. Infront of him, the stones glowed white, as they final one had been reunited with its others and placed in the configuration. A ghostly pale twister of energy flowed up from the circle, moving and writhing in time with the chants and drumbeats of Alarune and his fellow mages. Mordo simply watched, sipping from a glass of whiskey and enjoying the production.

Karl Mordo didn't do magic. To him, magic was another tool for leverage. Much like economics, he understood it thoroughly enough to give direction, and leave the actuality to technicians like Alarune, who jumped and danced around the circle, ridiculous in his face paint and headdress. Mordo had already decided the good Professor had outlived his usefulness to the cult. He wasn't circumspect enough; too fanatical. In Nova Roma, that very quality had made him extremely valuable, along with his connections. But since then, his moods had grown wild, and his calm had disintegrated. He was twitchy and paranoid, and Mordo had no intention of allowing him to make the mistake that outed the cult.

Selene would understand.

She always did.

Even as a younger man, Karl had only felt awe once, and that was at their first meeting. He'd gone to the ridiculous function because the person he'd received the offer from had strong connections into the planning commission on a major redevelopment he'd invested heavily in. He scoffed at the backwards costumes of the Hellfire Club, and was close to open ridicule of the entire event when she had walked in. That moment showed him what worship really was.

Selene had been good to him, and in return, he'd poured all his skills and power into the cult, modernizing and streamlining their funds, leverages her wealth into even greater returns. Mordo had watched those who had tried to skim some for themselves; to line their own pockets, and how they all failed and fallen. Karl stayed loyal, and in return, Selene had helped make him ten times more powerful and wealthy. The last years had been a trial, the ache of her loss like a part of himself amputated.

They had invested wisely. Mordo was one of the few who understood the scope of the cult, without ever being connected to it by anyone important. He'd kept the money flowing, and used Heinrich to find out what had really happened at the Hellfire Club that night. Slowly and expensively they'd pieced together the information, sifting speculation for the few hard facts. While Alarune worked for her return in Nova Roma, they'd put together a somewhat complete picture of a group of mutants, working with the White Court, bringing down their goddess.

Losing Nova Roma had been a major blow, both in hopes and financially. The only good to come of it was Alarune's confirmation that the 'X-Men', as the media called them, had been responsible for both incidents. Finally, they had a name and a face to the enemy. Still, it wasn't until Candra Redivenir, one of Selene's students, had come to him with a plan that they had a chance at revenge. Candra had was Mordo didn't, which was access to magic and the experience to make the ritual work without the human sacrifice.

It was important. Even if the X-Men struck at him, what justification and defense would they bring to a court of law? We tried to stop the ritual that would bring back a dark god, you honour? Mordo smiled tightly. Belladonna had done her job, getting the stones back to them. Even if Heinrich destroyed the hostages in Lowenstein's strange prison, they would be helpless to attack him here, where his power and influence could destroy Xavier's in response.

No, Heinrich's hostages were the right leverage to stop any ill concieved heroics, and once Selene was back, who cared whether or not the hostages survived? These X-Men would never catch her unawares again, and she'd have the pleasure of deciding how to destroy them. Mordo took another sip and looked into the energy again.

Come quickly, dark lady. Come and feast at the table I have provided and grown strong again. Mordo's eyes went bright and fevered. Come and take your revenge in full.

—

Marie hovered next to the window, glancing over at her white haired teammate. "So...we just have to break in? Like, no exploding traps for when we cut through the window, we just got get it where Cyke and Shiro can get in?"

"Yes," Ororo agreed, her voice louder than normal to be heard over the sound of the wind around them. "It should not take long, but it will be easier for us to finesse this than it would be for them." That was assuming there was no alarm on the windows, but as long as there was not, cutting an entryway would be far less obtrusive and noticeable than merely smashing through the glass.

"Ah'm not complaining," Marie said with a somewhat forced smile. She couldn't push out of her mind why exactly they were breaking into this place. Her hand dipped into the pouch looped into her belt and she pulled out a small device that she affixed to the window. "Just kinda strange ta be doing non-powered X-Men work in the field."

Nodding her agreement, Ororo reached into her own pouch and pulled out a dull-edged glass cutter, holding it carefully in one hand as she used her other one to trace the outline of the hole they would be cutting on the glass. It rid the surface of the worst of the dirt and dust that had been accumulated; it would have to do. Glancing at Marie to make sure she was ready, she pressed the cutter to the glass and began to carefully follow the outline, keeping the pressure as steady as she could manage while hovering several stories off the ground.

They'd gotten the confirmation that power had been cut meaning that there shouldn't be anything complicated about 'Ro and her's actions. Of course, years of X-Men training at taught her that the instant you thought it was safe to lower your guard was the instant you were in the most danger, so Marie tried to keep aware of her surroundings while simultaneously steadily cutting the glass for the window. "Almost..." she muttered, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as her concentration on the glass in front of her became more focused.

"There." Ororo felt the slip and give that meant they had successfully joined the two incisions, and moved back from the window slowly. "All that is left is to ease it carefully out, then we will make way for Cyclops and Sunfire to infiltrate the building."

---

Clarice strapped the security guard onto the stretcher just in case he woke up. And well, it was there, might as well make use of it. She also searched his pockets, taking the passcard and keyring on his belt. Slipping on a pair of rubber gloves, she wiped everything down and the punched the floor for security. Might as well make this all legal-eagle.

Logan, in the elevator shaft, was free-climbing his way up five floors to the target suite. The walls were thick enough for him to use his claws to aid in his climb without them punching through the wall and into something public. With luck, he wouldn't have to cram himself into the side-groove to avoid any passing elevators. The exertion felt good - he'd been too sedentary for too long. "Tink, give me a status." he said into his mike.

"Entering the security office now," she reported, using the stolen passcard to enter. Humming randomly, she searched for the power shut off. Large grids of buttons did not make things easier. She was not the most electronically inclined. "Got it!" she said, waiting for Wolverine to finish getting into place.

Logan scaled the elevator shaft then paused to listen at the double-doors. When he heard that the coast was clear, he opened up a channel to Clarice. "Cut it." he said curtly, then signed off. He took a deep breath and waited for the world to get dark.

"Ten-four," she replied, flipping her flashlight on and the power off. Sitting alone in the dark was kinda spooky so she spun around in the swivel chair while she waited for Logan to do his thing. She felt bad for the security guard she'd strapped to the stretcher. It wasn't his fault any of this was happening.

Once the lights went out Logan forced the doors open and moved as silently as Death itself towards his targets. The first was taken out with a heavy blow to the back of the head and the second a second later via the same expedient route. They'd have ferocious headaches but they'd live. He dragged them into a supply closet and tied their hands and feet together with extension cords. Then, as a final touch, he taped their mouths closed. Tipping his hat to them, he locked and closed the supply closet then made his way to the master security panel. A pop of his claw, a cut in a very specific place in the wall, and the panel was isolated from the rest of the network. Now, no matter who violated security the cultists inside the suite would stay fat, dumb, and happy. Mission accomplished, he made his way to a conference room, let himself in, then locked the door and planted his behind in one of the plush leather chairs. "Wolverine to Tink. Light 'em up."

Clarice turned the power on again, picking up the house phone and dialing down to the front desk, "Just a power surge, everything's taken care of," she said, disgusing her voice with a slight southern accent. Pocking the keycard, she ported to Wolverine's hiding spot. "Plush," she commented, looking around.

Logan just grinned at the purple-skinned girl. "Piece of cake so far. Elevator was sloppy but everything else is five-by-five." he said.

---

The floor lit up with a criss-cross of thin red beams of light as Shiro shifted his vision to infrared. Some security system. Shiro grinned, and nodded at Scott. He took a step forward, for once grateful for having small feet. Made stepping through the empty spaces that much easier. Another step forward, and he paused so he could turn back to Scott and make sure that he was stepping in the right places.

"Well, this is rather nerve-wracking," Scott murmured, stopping behind Shiro, his attention flickering briefly to their goal, the panel across the room. "You're doing great."

Shiro smiled wryly at Scott and took another couple of careful steps forward. "In a way, this is like Dance Dance Revolution. Except that instead of losing points if I misstep, I might lose our heads."

"Not our heads. Just the goal." As they paused again, Scott laid a hand briefly on Shiro's shoulder, for reassurance. They both knew what the stakes were, here. Scott just hoped the younger man knew he had faith in him that he'd be able to do his part and do it well. "We're getting there."

The touch, brief as it was, reminded Shiro of Alex and his reliance on physical contact as a language of its own. The thought made Shiro blush. "The rays are more clustered over here," he warned, his voice cracking slightly.

"Right." Scott kept silent until they'd successfully made their way across the rest of the room. "All right," he said, still keeping his voice very low. "Let's get this panel off." Tiny flickers of tight-beam blasts lashed out at the screws, and Scott lifted the panel aside, setting it down well-clear of the last row of beams. "Your turn. Burn through those connections - I need a clear shot."

Shiro nodded and grunted in assent, reaching forward to grab the wires between his fingers. He screwed his eyes shut as he concentrated, focusing just the least bit of power through his fingertips. The wires snapped apart, burned clear through, in just a matter of seconds, and Shiro stepped aside to give Scott space. "Remind me to work on precision," he told Scott, panting just a little.

"New exercises for you..." Scott murmured, almost lightly, and knelt down in front of the open panel, mentally reviewing the schematics he had looked at. He pulled a pen light out of the pocket of his uniform jacket, shining it down the hole Shiro had created. "Wow, this is going to be tight."

Shiro reciprocated the earlier gesture, and briefly patted Scott's shoulder and grinned at him. "We're getting there," he echoed.

The crooked grin Scott gave him in return was far brighter than it should have been, given the situations and the number of their friends and students currently in peril. Then he turned his attention to the uncovered connections, narrowing one eye.

Thinner than a pencil, the beam shot out and hit the right one dead-center, killing the internal alarm.

Scott's smile tightened. "Cyclops to all team," he murmured over his com. "Alarm's down. Base - stay tuned."

---

The second window had gone even more quickly than the first; before too long Marie and Ororo were inside the building. When the call from Scott came over the coms they set out towards their destination, finding a doorway near the security offices to hide in. Pressing her back against the door, Ororo listened to the ambient sounds of the hallway for a moment before glancing at the girl beside her. "Now to drive the guard out - it is going to become very warm in here, my apologies."

Pulling an elastic out of her pocket, Marie pulled up her hair into a high ponytail. "Gotta do what ya gotta do," the Southerner said with a shrug. She'd been raised in Southern summers, so she at least had a high tolerance for heat, but she hadn't worn a bodysuit of black leather back then.

With a nod, Ororo's eyes clouded over, and it wasn't long before the temperature around them began to rise. As it had been pleasantly cool before, it was almost two minutes later that the temperature approached uncomfortably warm. It continued to rise until sweat had broken out on the two women's skin, and still Ororo showed no signs of letting up. Hopefully the guard came out to see what the problem was before being broiled alive.

"Jesus Christ, I think the thermostat's on the fritz," came a voice from down the hall. "Yeah, I'm checking it out." The jingle of keys accompanied the sound of footsteps as the man neared the doorway where Marie and Ororo hid; only then did the silver-haired woman relax her control over the air around them.

"No Jesus here, Ah'm afraid," Marie said as she cheerfully stepped out from the doorway, one fist rocketing to connect with the man's jaw. As he reeled back, Rogue followed up with a quick tandem of blows to the head, the guard falling unconscious to the floor. Turning to nod at 'Ro, Marie slipped off one glove and bent to briefly make contact with the downed man.

A cool breeze flowed over them as Marie absorbed the information; they didn't need to attract any more attention now that they had downed the guard. Together Ororo and Marie worked to carry the man into the security office, setting him down gently on the floor behind the door. After that, Ororo stepped back to watch the hallway as the other girl got to work disabling the cameras and security feeds.

Gloved fingers flew across a keyboard and it didn't take long for Marie to use the pilfered information from the guard's brain to disconnect the current feeds and wipe the entire day's records from the security banks. "Done," she said, rising from her chair. "Time to meet up with the others?"

After checking that the guard would not be waking up to sound the alarm in the immediate future, Ororo straightened and nodded. "Yes, let us go."

---

Logan shedded himself out of his paramedic outfit with a fine disregard for the purple girl. In his bag he had something more suitable to the ops they had planned - black-and-grey fatigues. These he put on but left his mask on the table.

"Don't get too comfy," she cautioned, "If we're going to walk out of here, you need to be an EMT for a while longer. I'm not teleporting your heavy ass and our equipment out if I don't have to," and walking out would be so much neater, really, and it would draw less suspicion. "And the elevator worked out. I have the guy strapped to the stretcher now."

"Got it right here." he said, folding the EMT outfit neatly and putting it back in the bag. "If you need me to be an EMT to walk out it wouldn't do to come out coated in blood, now, would it?" he argued reasonably. "By the way, kid. What's with the Tink thing anyway?"

"It's funny," she replied with a shrug, her booted feet propped up on the table, "I mean, it's so completely stupid. And all the guys feel dumb saying it." She answered honestly because no one had asked before. It was just something silly, "And really...it makes us a lot less threatening."

Logan snorted at that. "Got a better one for you if you want it." he offered. He still thought the code-name thing was stupid but if you had to have one, you might as well do it up right.

"Sure, why not?" she didn't have to accept it, but it was nice that someone was so finally tired of the name that they found her a new one. She didn't have her X-career planned from the time she was 12 like Terry did.

Logan just leaned back and looked the slender girl over. "Blink." he said. "In and out in the blink of an eye. Blink and you'll miss her." he said with a very slight smile.

"Heh," Clarice grinned, pushing her long bangs out of her face, "Blink. Blink. Blink. I like it. I like it a lot," she said mulling it over and experimenting saying it. "Thanks, Wolvie."

"Wolverine." he corrected her absently. "And tie your hair back or get it cut if you're going to keep doing this." he pointed out. Then he cursed as he grabbed his comm and stuck it back into his ear. "Wolverine to Base One. We're in position." he said, cursing his own sloppiness.

Normally, she pinned her bangs back, they were at that awkward growning out stage, but they had come loose, "I'm growning them out," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. This wasn't the military and her hair was perfectly fine for an EMT or college student.

Logan just rolled his eyes at his partner. "Don't suppose you brought a deck of cards?" he asked her with another slight smile.

"Let's see...I have stethoscope, scissors, fabric tape..." she rattled off a list of medical equipment in her bag, but not mentioning cards, "And a gameboy."

Logan blinked at the last item. Oh, one of those hand-held game things. "Turn the sound off and you can play it." he told her. Logan dug his EMT hat out of his bag, pulled it low over his eyes, and as far as anyone could tell went to sleep.

---

The X-Men had fought in very many places - from jungles to abandoned warehouses to the middle of a diplomatic function - but this was the first time Ororo could recall they had fought in a penthouse apartment. A very nicely-appointed penthouse apartment, she corrected herself, shoving a lacquered end-table at her opponent and catching him square in the gut with it. Their foes were not expert fighters by any stretch of the imagination, but they were numerous and belligerant and dedicated to keeping the X-Men from reaching their goal.

They were also quite susceptible to household cleaning tools. Shiro held a mop in his hands, which he'd liberated from a broom closet, and wielded it like a bo. Though not really trained in bojutsu, it didn't take a master to fend off the thugs with long wooden rods. He smirked as one man approached, and jabbed the cleaning end at his opponent's face to disorient him, then pulled it back and smacked him upside the head.

Logan wasn't bothering with bojutsu or smacking people with coffee tables. In his case he was just indulging his absolute joy in the art of inflicting pain with his bare hands. He had the biggest of the guards as his playmate and while the guy hit hard for a human he was somewhat slow and inflexible. Logan had already tagged the guy three times - which would account for the now-broken nose on his foe - and only taken a glancing blow in return. He swayed out of range of a wild haymaker that would have annihilated anything it came in contact with and came back in with a body-blow to the solar plexus that left the big man gasping for air.

Marie, for her part, was having fun too. "Now, what would your momma think if she knew you were trying to beat up a girl?" she chided as she brought two of the guards' heads crashing into each other. They both looked at her woozily and were quickly unconscious with followup jabs to the temple.

"Ah, the inevitable nameless hired thug bashing," Shiro mused, deftly knocking away a rather wicked-looking knife by injuring its holders hand with a rapid slash of the mop handle. "This is why I joined the team. That and to astonish the world," he added, glancing quickly at Ororo.

A bit too tense to participate in the banter that seemed to be running rampant, the team leader at least managed a tight smile for the young man before ducking under a swipe from an angrily-scowling woman. She came back up inside the woman's guard and drove the heel of her hand into the woman's nose, eliciting a loud yowl of pain from her. With a shove from Ororo she fell back over the cream-colored sofa, spattering it with the blood now running freely from her nose. That is going to stain.

---

"You've got to get us in past the thick of it," Scott said tightly, listening to the noises over his com, the unmistakable sound of fighting. "If I get knocked off balance I'm not going to make that shot."

"I know," Clarice replied tersely, she wasn't sure she was going to be able to do it. She knew the room layout from before the fighting began, but who knows what had happened since then. Porting blind like this was not good. Not good at all. "I wish I had a visual...."

Scott paused, closing his eyes and listening. Once upon a time, he'd had nothing but his hearing and his sense of touch to rely on. He had gotten to the point where he could distinguish people by their footsteps.

He'd lost a little of that, in the years since. But he'd gotten a look at the layout too, and he knew the sound of his teammates. Wasn't that hard to analyze, even from here. The sounds they made as they fought, combined with the ambient noise in the background. That was Logan, growling. The front of that glassed-over cabinet smashing. A noise of effort from Marie. Scott listened for another ten seconds....

And then went for his best guess. "Take us in just to the right of that marble-topped table," he said urgently. "Now."

Clarice nodded, opening the portal, she did not question how he knew, she just filed it away to ask later. Post mission briefings could be so much fun when she had a million questions she wanted answered. "Next stop, women's lingerie," she said, closing the portal behind them and hoping he was right.

Her port was absolutely spot-on; a tiny part of Scott that was already looking forward to the debriefing made a mental note to compliment her on how much better her accuracy had gotten the last several months or so. The space wasn't quite clear, as a mercenary reeled backwards towards them. Scott sidestepped him, leaving him for Clarice. He had another job.

"Hey!" she cried, kicking the guy in the ribs with one steel-toed boot. She did not like mercenaries on her doc martens. "Stop fighting!" she instructed the guy as she pulled his arm backwards almost to the breaking point. He didn't listen well.

Note to self. Tell Clarice not to scold her opponents. Scott smiled, however, a tight, almost predatory grin as he stepped into just the right position to have his clear shot at the stones.

The blast was tightly focused, and very carefully placed. It ricocheted off each of the stones, moving from one to the other and knocking them out of alignment.

The look he got from the son of a bitch leading the ritual, in that flash of a moment before Mordo controlled his expression again, was deeply satisfying.

---

"You know, one thing that I never credited you with was stupidity. Arrogance, destructiveness, an overinflated sense of superiority, of course. But stupidity?" Karl Mordo was livid, but his anger stayed off of his voice, showing only in the tensely controlled lines on his face, and the slightly raised colour against his black hair. "All that you've done today is trade a dozen of your friends and the tenuous safety of that school for a few day's delay."

He almost was glad of it. Even as the stones pinged and cooled around the broken circle, they remained unharmed. His gift to his Dark Lady on her arising would be to present her with the destruction of those who had dared to strike against her. Using legal means and the media was less visceral than some, like Heinrich, would have preferred, but Mordo never worried himself with how his ends were accomplished, as long as it was successful for him.

After the infiltration and ensuing battle they had faced, standing up to this man was no challenge. Ororo wanted nothing more than for this whole nightmarish scenario to be over, and so it gave her great relief to announce, "You have no leverage over us anymore. Your threats mean nothing."

"Oh really? I have a dozen lawyers who will tell you a very different story, my dear negress. As for your friends in Las Vegas... amazing. Did you know that over eight hundred thousand people simply disappear every year in America? Remarkable. Nearly a million people end up listed as missing persons." Mordo smiled coldly. "Some are found safe, others are just stupid overacting mothers. And some... well, I'm sure the renewed interest in forensics will give them back to you one day in the future."

"A little hard of hearing, Karl?" Scott gave the stones one brief, satisfied look. That had been a hell of a shot. He turned his cold regard back to Mordo. "Listen to what she just said, you son of a bitch. Our friends in Las Vegas are just fine. On their way home as we speak, actually."

"That's what happens when you trust a German. Still, it's of little importance that your bastards escaped. I still have the stones, and you all will be facing the full power of the law for this invasion." Mordo shook his head. "Oh yes, the people in this building are very wealthy, and very commited to their safety. I will have ample support in taking your group of 'heroes' to court, with all the media and scrutiny that entails. It doesn't matter that your friends live, because after I get through with you, that school and your ridiculously team will be broken shadows."

Scott smiled. There was a certain blithe contempt - and cold amusement - in the expression. "Oh come on, Karl. You don't think we walked in here without an exit strategy?" The smile grew slightly malicious. It was all right to enjoy this just a little, after everything the bastard had put his friends and students through. "Hold on to that happy little fantasy about our impending doom while you can. Because that smug conviction that you somehow have the upper hand is going to last..." Scott checked his watch, rather ostentatiously. "Oh, about another five minutes. Which reminds me - Ororo, I think it's about time we should be going?" He turned, already signaling Angelo, back sitting coms at the mansion. I hope the timing works out...

The silver-haired woman nodded, glancing around the spacious room as if sizing up the area once more. "Yes, I believe that is a good idea. We would not want it to get too crowded in here, and I for one would hate to overstay our welcome." With that, she lifted her com to her lips and gave orders for the rest of the team to fall back.

"Yes, go! Go, you freaks! In a weeks time, I will own you. I will own your school! I will own your students! I will take everything piece by piece from you and at the end... oh, at the end you will crawl and lick at the Dark Lady's feet and beg for your lives! You heard me! Selene will have you, one way or another." Mordo screamed, finally losing his composure. "And when you beg, all she will leave you is life, in service to her!"

---

Mordo seethed as the X-Men left, the ping of the elevator loud in the hushed apartment. Alarune was weeping, making small keening noises from where he lay huddled up. For a brief moment, Karl considered calling building security and decided against it. No, the tapes from his security system, the data from their break in would be enough for the first set of charges. He was going to enjoy seeing them spending time in a holding cell, or even better, escaping and becoming fugitives. It was a shame they hadn't killed any of his obviously overpaid guards, who lay in states of unconsciousness around the apartment, their weapontry and experience proving useless against the X-Men.

A second ping of the elevator brought Mordo back from his musings, and when the door opened, ten men in black suits stepped out. The man in the lead, a short slender one with dark blond hair reached into his pocket. "Are you Karl Mordo, sir?"

"Yes. What is the meaning of this? Who let you up here!" Mordo felt the rage sliding back. What nonsense was building security playing now.

"I'm Fred Duncan, the Deputy Assistant Director of Investigations for the FBI." Duncan held up his wallet with the identification and badge. "Mister Mordo, at the request of the Brazillian government, we've been investigating the theft of several native artifacts. In the course of this investigation, we have sufficent evidence to have been granted a warrent to search these premises."

"This is absurd. Do you have any idea who I am?"

"I'm afraid that doesn't matter, sir. Yesterday, Charles Xavier reported that five stones containing ancient Brazillian markings, loaned to him by the Brazillian government, went missing during transfer back to the Brazillian Embassy. Professor Peter Alarune is believed to be involved. He has worked for you in the past acquiring ancient artifacts, has he not?" Duncan said, his voice carefully polite as his agents ranged out across the apartment.

"Don't suppose you've got licenses for these weapons?" One of the agents said, toeing the automatic rifle away from one of the prone guards. Duncan's spared him an look and then turned back to Mordo.

"Now look here. My home was invaded by a group of mutant madmen not five minutes ago. I demand you drop this farce and arrest them!"

"Do you have any proof."

"My home security system." Mordo said smugly, and Duncan nodded for one of his men to go and check it out. Alarune, babbling now, was hauled into the foyar by another agent.

"Found this one, sir, but I think he's going to need some serious therapy before we get anything out of him." Alarune's garb was dank and urine sodden, and a line of drool hung from his gibbering lips.

"Call for paramedics to take him away. Agent Kane?"

"Six stones, sir. They match the pictures that were registered by the research team at the Nova Roma site."

"This is nonsense! These stones were not registered by the Nova Roma team. I had--" Mordo suddenly got control of himself, realising that he'd almost admitted to financing the illegal operation.

"They were registered and released for study to a--" Duncan checked his notes. "Doctor Stephen Strange, who listed them at the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngster as the primary location for research. And now, hours after being reported stolen, they are found with the chief suspect in your possession. Karl Mordo, I am placing you under arrest for the illegal possession of historical artifacts and recieving stolen property. And from what I see from this apartment, I don't imagine that will be the end of the charges. Agent Dawes, inform Mister Mordo of his rights." Garrison had picked up a new respect for the Professor when the man had asked him into his office and requested the paperwork be delivered to Duncan and the FBI on Monday.

"But, you can't--! The X-Men! They broke into my home."

"Callie?"

"Nothing on his security system, chief. No recordings for the last sixteen hours." She paused and came back into the room. "If the X-Men broke into this place, no one saw them outside of this room, and building security has no records of any disturbance."

"Well, Mister Mordo, we will investigate your claims, but unless your defence is that the X-Men planted the stones, Professor Alarune and a lot of guns, I would suggest you consider your next statements very careful. You do have the right to remain silent." Duncan made a shooing motion with his hand. "Take him back to the field office and lock him up. Call NYPD to get the rest of them, and get my forensic team up here. Do you think they'll find anything, Agent Kane?"

"No sir." Garrison grinned as he helped push the sputtering Mordo into the elevator in cuffs. "Sounds like paranoid delusion to me."

"Good." Duncan turned back to his agents as the doors closed. "Let's get this mess cleaned up."