xp_logs | Thirteen Days: Tsangpo

Rescuing Nathan, Angelo and Clarice turns out to be a more complicated operation. Especially when it turns out that some of the other passengers in the glider did survive.

They hadn't been told the name of the American frigate they'd been deposited on - deliberately, perhaps, given that they were about to launch a highly illegal search-and-rescue mission from it. The helicopters were already being prepared for the fast trip up the Brahmaputra river into Chinese-controlled Tibet; the group of X-Men they were off to rescue couldn't have landed in much more remote an area, which made things even more difficult.

Shiro and Kyle found themselves being drawn inside the ship to a wardroom of some sort by the man who was visibly in charge of the preparations. Graying, but as visibly fit as any of the other, much younger soldiers around him, he gave the two young X-Men a quick smile and shook hands with them both in turn as soon as they were out of the noise.

"Fabrizio Caetano," he introduced himself. "We haven't met before, but I know your team. I was in command of the support troops when we went to Youra two years ago."

Shiro accepted the colonel's hand and shook it firmly. "Sunfire. This is Beast Boy. How close to the Chinese border will we be infiltrating?" Quick and to the point. This whole mission had left a sour taste in his mouth, and he was anxious to conclude it. Honestly, what idiot came up with giant space lasers of doom, anyway?

Caetano turned away, to the map unfolded on the wardroom table. "The coordinates we were given are in the Yarling Tsangpo canyon, not from from Namcha Barwa." He tapped the mountain marked on the map. "Technically in the Tibetan Autonomous Region, and the area's remote enough that we shouldn't see much in the way of a Chinese military presence. But the faster we get in and out, the better."

Kyle shot Shiro a quick dirty look at the use of the hated trainee codename, but remained silent. He was having a hard enough time containing his nervous energy. Despite the grey uniform and bad codename, he didn't want to look like a seventeen year old half trained junior X-Man. Even if that was exactly what he was. "What, uh.." His voice cracked, and he looked up at the ceiling, unable to meet the colonel's eyes. "What kind of, um, terrain? Besides mountains? Trees, or jungle or... um, rocks and dirt?"

"Very steep. Forests of a sort, below the treeline and leading down to the river. It's going to be hell to find them from the air - I'm hoping they stay put at the same coordinates," Caetano said with a brief sigh, folding up the map. He turned to Kyle, however, with a smile that might have had something vaguely paternal about it. Or maybe it was just encouraging. "I was briefed that you might be able to give us some tracking help."

"Um, yeah, it's part of what I'm good at.." Kyle said, hands twitching with the effort to not fidget with anything - his hair, his uniform, his claws. "Enhanced senses, so, uh, I can do the whole bloodhound thing." Later, he would be amazingly proud of himself just for not letting his voice waver on the word hound. "I'm actually better in forests and stuff. Cities smell too much."

"Then we'll be glad to have you," Caetano said, with another smile. This one was definitely encouraging, but it faded into a more serious expression as he divided his gaze between the two younger men. "I don't know what your team was up to - whatever it was, it's above my pay grade. I know there may be hostiles on the ground with the people we're trying to rescue. I'll have my men give you-" And this was very clearly directed to Shiro. "- as much support as I can, but most of my men have never fought mutants before. I have a couple of Youra veterans along, but we're going to be relying on you quite heavily."

No less than Shiro expected. "I come with more firepower than most armies," he said seriously, no hint at all whether or not he'd intended to make than pun. "It would be safer to keep your men back unless the situation turns dire. If we encounter mutant hostilities, then you will want to stay away."

"We'll focus on getting the injured out of the way, then," Caetano said. "Now," he said, inclining his head at the door. "There are some basic safety procedures we need to cover before I let you into any of my helicopters." The encouraging smile came back.

--

Nathan's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright. Sleep hadn't fixed the problem with his telepathy entirely, but some of his sensitivity was returning, and that was someone fucking sneaking up on them. He knew that feeling all too well. Swearing under his breath, he hauled himself to his feet, swaying a little.

Angelo had managed some kind of restless sleep, but he snapped awake - mostly - as he sensed Nathan struggle to his feet. "...Nate? 's wrong?"

"Trouble," Nathan grated, standing there and trying to focus on that somewhat staticy impression. "I think.... I didn't find any sign of Toad and the other one, remember." He'd assumed they were dead, given how long it had been since the crash. Oh, you idiot...

Trying to stay awake while her teammates tried to sleep wasn't easy. Clarice was trying to amuse herself as best she could, but there was only so much that could be done in an abandoned monastery, in the dark, without so much as a piece of string. She'd like some string. Or maybe a gameboy. Or better yet, sleep.

"Clarice!" Nathan repeated. He'd already called her name twice, and she hadn't responded. Her concussion symptoms weren't improving, and he'd been starting to worry about internal bleeding. "Stay awake while I'm gone, or I'll take you over my knee."

That brought Angelo to full consciousness and he started to try to get up, only to fall over again the second he tried to put weight on his ankle. "Gone?" he demanded from the ground, an edge of panic in his voice. "Where're you goin'?"

"I'm not having a fight in here on top of you two," Nathan growled. "I've got a better chance of taking them down out there, where I've got some room." Fried powers and battered state aside, it was Toad and some unknown Indian at least ten years his junior who'd been the 'guest' of the Russian government until this month. Experience had to count for something.

"We can help," Clarice protested, although futilely. What could she do with a broken leg? Crawl menacingly? There was no way she could teleport anything larger than a mosquito at the moment.

"You can't take them both on at once", Angelo added his voice, trying once again to get up on his good leg. "An' what if one of them keeps you busy?" Don't leave us here alone.

"Neither of you can walk," Nathan snapped, although he kept his voice low. He knew perfectly well that it was possible he wouldn't keep both of them busy, but he had to try. Clarice and Angelo really couldn't defend themselves, and the Indian had some range to his powers, judging by what had happened on the glider. He needed to keep both of them out of here. "Stay here and keep as quiet as you can. Unless one of them stumbles in here, in which case, scream bloody murder and I'll be back as soon as I can." He turned and limped towards the doorway, vanishing into the forest without another word.

Angelo stared after him bleakly, then turned and shuffle-hopped towards Clarice. If he could do nothing else, at least he could make sure she stayed warm - ish - and awake.

"Angelo?" she whispered in his ear, "I don't like this idea at all."

"Truth?" he said quietly, wrapping an arm around her for whatever comfort it could give. "Neither do I. Not much we can do, though."

--

Toad hauled himself back to his feet, groaning and rubbing at the side of his head. This was turning into a real shit of a month, he reflected dourly, examining the blood on his fingers. He looked around warily, but as far as he could tell, he was alone in the woods once more. Where the fuck did the bastard come from? And what did he hit me with? Damned telepaths. He knew it had been Cable - he'd caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye as the man had rushed him. But there'd been no warning, no sound of the X-Man's approach.

Well, you made one big mistake, Dayspring. Knocking me out and leaving me here? Bad, bad call. And he'd pay for it - but not directly. There had to be other X-Men around here, probably injured, if Cable had made the decision to fight rather than just avoid them. So he'd leave the telepath to Senyaka, and go looking for easier pickings.

Angelo was paying close attention to their surroundings and being the one without a head injury messing up his perceptions, he heard the new sounds first. "Clarice", he said quietly. "Someone's comin', an' I don't think it's Nate."

She didn't hear anything except crickets, or maybe that was just her head. These things were iffy right now. "Then we fight," she said in a voice stronger than she felt. "Boys are stupid, throw rocks at them." That was her best idea.

There was a scuffling sound outside, like someone jumping into dead leaves, and then Toad appeared in the doorway. He spotted the two prone X-Men, and a smile lit his bloodied face. "Well, well." His next jump took him further into the remains of the monastery, where he paused, eyeing them warily. "You don't look too mobile, kids."

"Toad", Angelo all but growled, eyes narrowing. "You think I need to be able t'walk to kick your ass? I've still got my hands workin'."

"And Violet over there might still be able to teleport me somewhere unpleasant. You're right," Toad said - and spat at Clarice, the sticky green substance landing directly on her face, covering her mouth and nose. "Unless she's too busy choking."

Asphyxiation was bad, even if it was fun to say. And Clarice definately couldn't say anything. Futilely, she used he hands to guide herself, teleporting slivers the size of her hands away. She was attempting to aim them at Toad, but so long as they were gone, she didn't care. "Gah!" she gasped, managing to get enough away so she could breathe. Barely. That was harder than it should have been.

As Clarice gasped for breath, Toad's tongue shot outwards and wrapped around Angelo's ankle - the broken ankle. He yanked, hard.

Angelo screamed, short and sharp before he could bite it back, as all Nathan's efforts at bonesetting were rapidly undone. The only thing he could do was try to retaliate, streamers of skin snapping out from his fingers at Toad's face.

None of them reached Toad, because he threw Angelo, across the room and into the wall on the other side. He smiled with a savage sort of glee and leapt over to Clarice. "Let me help you up!"

Clarice did her best to scramble away without bothering her leg any more than she had to. That it hurt was an understatement, but she had a knack for that. What she wouldn't give for a sword right about now or a taser. Something that wasn't powered by her body and had reach. Behind her, her hand found a rock. Well, that had been her suggestion. Pulling more goop off her face she waited for him to get closer. She couldn't see well enough to throw it, but maybe she could just bash him in the head. With her luck, his head would just deflate.

Toad stopped suddenly, looking up sharply at a noise from outside. "Sounds like helicopters," he muttered, then hauled Clarice to her feet, dodging her attempt to brain him with her rock. "I think you'd make a good human shield, Violet," he told her cheerfully. "What do you think?"

"Suck my dick," she replied eloquently and grabbed his crotch, digging her nails into the sensitive skin.

Toad howled and flung her away, hard. He advanced on her with pure murder in his eyes, but by then, there were shouts and running footsteps outside. Gritting his teeth, he turned to fight.

The spark of unholy joy in his eyes when he saw that the 'cavalry' was not the X-Men was more than a little alarming.

--

Let's see if I can try this trick twice, Nathan thought grimly, adjusting his grip on his tree branch as he continued to move silently through the woods, stalking Senyaka. He needed to try to take the man down and get back to the monastery. He'd heard the helicopters, too, and there was no guarantee that they were friendly. We didn't make it back from space to wind up as Chinese prisoners, damn it.

Dead leaves crackled, much closer, and Nathan flung himself out and around the tree, swinging the tree branch like a baseball bat at the Indian man. Senyaka ducked, but it caught him on the shoulder, eliciting a curse in Hindi. He stumbled back out of range, extending both arms. Whips of energy flung themselves outward, tangling around Nathan, who went to his knees with a groan.

Senyaka smiled tightly, a white flash of teeth in a face made even darker by blood and grime. "I'm going to drain you dry," he said, his English almost musical, "and then go back for the other two. If they're still alive."

Nathan managed a weak flash of telekinesis, barely enough to stagger the man. "Bite me," he said, and then nearly bit through his own lip as the whips of energy tightened around him. The rush of weakness was sudden, overwhelming.

A familiar flash of golden light appeared overhead, and slammed into Senyaka. Shiro floated a few meters away, cloaked in full fire form. "Oh, tell me you are not a tentacle monster. I have no patience for that."

The energy-whips were gone. Nathan realized he was on his hands and knees on the ground, and shook his head doggedly, trying to clear it. That sounded like... He raised his head, blinking to try and focus on the glowing form. Shiro. Definitely Shiro. And since he was having trouble staying conscious, best to get out of the way and let Shiro do whatever it was he was planning to do...

A pained curse escaped him as the whips reappeared, wrapping themselves around his torso and jerking hard, slamming him against the ground and dragging him - in front of Senyaka, between the Indian and Shiro. Oh, like hell are you using me as a human shield! But offended pride was quickly forgotten as the draining sensation came back, stronger this time.

Shiro's eyes narrowed behind his fiery mantle. He took this as a challenge. "Hmm, that is very interesting. Let him go and we can fight like men." He wasn't about to wait for a response, though. He flew up a few feet and tossed a fireball at Senyaka, aiming just a little to his right in case he decided to pull Nathan closer.

Senyaka flinched violently, reeling away from the fireball. Nathan, nearly unconscious at this point, was dragged along. His face was turning alarmingly white, his lips nearly blue as the psionic whips continued to drain energy from him. It seemed to be strengthening Senyaka, who was straightening, his stance growing more confidence even as the energy whips glowed brighter.

"I'll enjoy killing both of you," he said, almost conversationally. "Two mutant pawns. It's not a bad day's work."

"Heard that one before. Try something new, asshole." Shiro had to get those whip things off Nathan, and threatening him wasn't going to work. So he rocketed forward, intent on getting close enough to him that he'd have to drop Nathan if he wanted to defend himself. Cannonball would be proud.

And it worked like a charm. The whips automatically unraveled from around Nathan, coming up to slash defensively at Shiro. The fire didn't seem to affect them, at least not right away; one caught Shiro across the shoulder, knocking him off-balance in the air. Another looped around his waist.

"You taste different," Senyaka said. "Mutants are like different vintages, you know."

Shiro felt a brief stab of panic. The whip around his waist was all too reminiscent of the coily mutant at the FoH headquarters who had sucked him into that psychotic alternate dimension. He felt his eyelids grow heavy, and even underneath the growing exhaustion a voice in his head frantically demanded escape. Between the fear that he was going to be quickly overwhelmed and the lack of energy to do anything, the blast that emanated from Shiro's body went out in all directions. He was lucid enough to keep it to a small radius, but the leaves beneath his feet and on the trees above him were instantly vaporized by the sudden, violent spike in temperature.

He fell to the ground, panting as the cord slithered away from him. "Vintages? Sake is supposed to be consumed warm. Would you like yours hot?" He thrust out a hand and released another blast of solar flare, this one more controlled, directly at Senyaka's face.

Senyaka had already been reeling from the backwash of the first blast. He only half-dodged the second - it caught the side of his face, and he dropped, screaming and flailing in the dead leaves. The energy whips appeared again, flailing just as wildly as the man himself.

Panting, Shiro dashed to Nathan's side and shook him. "Cable? Please be conscious. I don't want to have to pick you up." He glanced over at Senyaka and frowned. He hadn't meant to disfigure him, even if he blamed it on the effects of those coils. If he kept encountering villains like this, then he was going to develop a complex.

All he got at first was a groan, then a moderately baleful look out of unfocused gray eyes. Some of the color had returned to Nathan's face, but he was still alarmingly pale, his breathing far more shallow than it should be.

At least he was alive, which Shiro realized was the most he could ask for. He hazarded to leave Nathan alone for a moment and turned his attention back to the crazed Senyaka. He probably wasn't capable of hindering their escape now, but Shiro had seen enough bad horror movies to know that the second he turned his back, the tentacles would attack.

Then he noticed the discarded branch that Nathan had attacked Senyaka with. Dodging the flailing coils, he dashed for it, then flew in and clubbed the other mutant upside the head with it. The Chinese authorities would no doubt come soon to investigate, given the blatant illegality of the Americans' presence, so they would surely take care of Senyaka. Satisfied with this conclusion, he slipped an arm around Nathan's waist and tried to pull the (much) larger man to his feet. "Lose some fucking weight, please," he groaned, and then gently launched himself into the air to take him home.

--

Even without city smells, tracking wasn't what Kyle would've called easy. He'd spent as much time trying to seperate Shiro's scent from what he was supposed to be searching for as he did trying to find the smells in the first place.

What he was smelling now was no clearer. Too different from the sources he'd used to fix the scents of his teammates in his head, but he hadn't expected a perfect match anyway. The locker room smells of changed clothes and the real thing were never the same. And the mixed-in smells of the military guys weren't helping. And trees and dirt, and blood, which had Kyle sprinting as fast as he could over the uneven terrain.

As he went to the trees to move faster, another smell broke over the others, washing them out in unbathed swampy -stink-. This was a smell he knew all too well. Being in the same room as Toad for almost a day had burned that smell into his head permanently, much to Kyle's disgust. He'd recognize that anywhere. And it wasn't far away.

He picked up speed, going from tree limb to tree limb until he could see the monastery, and outside it, green-on-green. Toad was, as far as Kyle could see, just plain fucking with the military guys, leaping around and dodging gunfire, only stopping to attack the soldiers who actually approached.

And he was beating them. Because Toad didn't give a damn if there was crossfire, or if people died, and the soldiers did. And they weren't even getting close to him - the few that came close were kicked away - or knocked out.

Behind his cover of branches, Kyle paused. He was, as far as he was concerned, zero-to-two with Toad and not ready for a rematch. And he didn't have a choice. This close to the ruins, he could smell Angelo and Clarice, and if either had been healthy, they'd have been trying to take Toad on.

He swallowed back the angry growl that threatened to come out, and leapt down from his perch, landing in a crouch. He didn't have a choice, but maybe.. he had a chance.

"Hey! STINKY!" Kyle yelled, standing up to his full height. "How about picking on somebody your own... oh, wait, I'm taller then you are. Prettier too!" He grinned cockily at Toad, and made a show of cracking his knuckles. "Or are you twoo scared that wittle minitoof might hand you your ugly green ASS?"

Toad whirled towards him, a fierce smile splitting his bloodied, begrimed face. "See, my day's looking up already." He whirled again, kicking one soldier in the face and sending the man sprawling. "The two inside weren't any funny at all. Just kind of laid there and looked at me threateningly until I gave them other things to think about."

This time, Kyle did growl, baring his teeth at Toad. "Your day's about to look pretty far down. Like looking at your own intestines because I'm going to stuff your head four feet up your ass." He looked at the injured soldiers, counted the number of men breathing that he could hear over the number of people he could see, and came up even. He still had time. good. "Unless you just wanna play for a while. If I looked like you, I'd play with myself a lot too."

"Playing with you sounds like a plan," Toad said. "Only I don't think it's going to be a lot of fun for you, kid." He sprang at Kyle then, almost before he'd finished speaking.

Toad's leap would've hit Kyle square in the chest if he hadn't expected it and jumped back. "I dunno, man. Handing you your ass in a box is gonna be a fucklot of fun for me." He leapt up into one of the trees. "Or do you want a ziploc baggie? I've got one here somewhere?" He patted one of the pockets of his jacket. "I'd give you some of the bandaids that I've got too, but I don't like you. And you smell funny." Anger didn't seem to be having the right effect, maybe outright immaturity would. "Oh, and you have stupid hair."

"I think it'd be really good to shut you up," Toad hissed, leaping up to an adjacent tree. "You're beginning to annoy me. I've had a shitty month so far, and that bastard Dayspring tried to fracture my skull a little while ago, so I've got a headache. The babble's beginning to grate on me."

Any frustration Kyle was feeling that Toad still hadn't taken the bait was nothing compared to the relief that he'd gotten Toad -away- from the soldiers and Clarice and Angelo. He pulled a pair of pinecones from a branch and lobbed one at Toad. "Shitty month, huh? Must suck to crash land from space while you're on the rag." He tossed the other pinecone and swung up to the next tree limb.

"They teach trash-talking at that mansion of yours, baby X-Man?" Toad leapt upwards, and then upwards again - and over, coming flying at Kyle as if he actually had wings.

Kyle feigned a bored yawn and let himself fall off his branch, twisting in mid-air to land on his hands and feet on the ground. "Nah. Just not wasting the good insults on your lame ugly face." He looked up , and, finally to the point of complete immaturity, stuck out his tongue and directed a Bronx cheer at Toad. "Neener neener, can't hit me!"

Toad appeared to, all at once, lose any remaining patience with Kyle's banter. He dove from his tree, landing easily - not on his feet, but on his hands. In that upside-down position, he spun, one foot connecting with Kyle's jaw. There was an audible crack.

Kyle's shove was countered as Garrison snapped a hand closed on his wrist and pulled him forward, directly into a long looping right cross. There was a snap as the younger man's jaw cracked, and the force of the punch left black spots trailing across his vision.

It was a minute later that Kyle's eyes finally opened, to see Garrison squatting down by where he was lying on the mats. "Lesson one. What angers you owns you. Healing factor caught up with that jaw yet?"

Fucking finally!! As Toad connected, Kyle fell back on his hip and elbow. There wasn't any time to think about his face, or even to turn his head and spit out the molars that had been knocked out by the kick, there was barely enough time for Kyle to register that, yes, that kick to the jaw had hurt a lot. More than a lot.

He continued the fall into a roll, catching himself on his outstretched arm. As he rolled, Kyle twisted at the waist, using the momentum to whip his leg out into a kick, scything across and straight through Toad's knee.

Toad gave a howl, crumpling as his shattered knee decided that holding his weight wasn't on the list of things to do today anymore. Snarling in pain, he spat at Kyle, covering his face in sticky and fast-hardening green slime.

Kyle's hands came up to claw at his face, pulling away the slime as well as a few strips of skin, and the better part of one his his eyebrows. Had he been able to talk, he'd have been issuing an unending string of 'fuck you' repeated at volume. Instead, he snapped his head forward, intending to headbutt Toad in the face - right between Toad's eyes if he could manage it.

Toad reeled backwards, but managed to open his mouth as he did. His tongue shot out and wrapped around Kyle's throat, tightening sharply. "'u lil'thon of a bith!" Lisp or no lisp, the meaning was quite clear.

His plan to piss Toad off to the point of not thinking was working really well. Probably too well, Kyle thought. He hadn't expected to be choked. But his fingers were already up by his face, and his claws were out. It was easy to grab Toad's tongue and dig in. Totally and completely gross, but -easy-.

Toad howled and proceeded to demonstrate just how strong his tongue was by flinging Kyle away with it, to a jarring crash against the trunk of a tree. "Little fucker!" he hissed, spitting blood. He managed to get to his feet, but lurched, the knee obviously not taking his weight. "Gonna die for that, kid-"

"Nuh-UH." Kyle grunted. Toad's stumble had given him time to recover, barely. Trying to ignore the pain in his jaw - and back - and head - he pulled himself to his feet, bracing himself against the tree with one hand. The other hand was raised, middle finger up in the air in a unmistakable gesture of "Fuck. You."

"GRAAAAAH!" was the howl of rage as Toad lurched at him, clearly past any sort of strategy.

The blown knee meant Toad couldn't jump at Kyle. In fact, simply staying vertical and moving forward was a serious effort. The fucker had clawed up his tongue, too, which almost hurt more than the knee. So, since his two primary weapons had been effectively taken away, he swung his arm wildly at Kyle when he came within reach.

This fight needed to be over, and soon. He couldn't take a lot more of this and the flailing punch was just what he'd been hoping for. Kyle remained still until Toad nearly connected, and then snapped out his hand, grabbing Toad's wrist and yanking him forward into an elbow strike to the temple.

Toad staggered, dazed for a moment, but before he could get his good foot under him, or recover from the blow, Kyle shifted his arms, grasping Toad around the neck in a tight chokehold. Fighting against his struggling opponent, Kyle let his legs drop out from under him, and hit the ground, dragging Toad down with him.

All out of smart comments, or insults, and nearly unable to speak anyway, he waited out the weak kicks and Toad's attempts to break the hold silently, simply waiting until the man went limp before letting his arms relax. When Toad didn't move, Kyle let go, and moving as fast as he could, put both of his knees in Toad's back. Even if he was faking, or woke up, with Kyle's entire weight pressing him down, and the damaged knee, it wasn't likely he'd be getting up, and certainly not easily.

--

Cleaning himself up without a mirror was harder then it had sounded when Kyle had pulled the first aid supplies out of his pocket. It was made even harder still by the fact that whenever he touched the right side of his face, he was reminded that something in it was broken. He'd sat down, close enough to Toad to keep an eye on him, and throw the bandage-wrappers on him, and was carefully cleaning the wounds on his face where he'd clawed himself pulling the slime off.

Someone called his name from further down the slope; Colonel Caetano raised a hand to wave, and then headed up to join him, moving quickly. "So much for just having you along to provide tracking," the older man said, hardly sounding out of breath. "Are you all right?" His eyes flickered to Toad, assessingly. "We've got restraints on the chopper, but that should do for now."

Kyle pointed to his jaw with one hand, and gave a thumbs-down sign with the other. "Think he broke it." He said, wincing with every mumbled word. "Ow." He gave Toad's duct-taped ankles a half-hearted kick. "'s healing. Talking's hard." He started to picked himself up from the ground and pointed down towards the ruins. "Soldiers 'n X-men. Need first aid more."

"We've got them looked after. Situation's stable, but now we need to get out of here." There were two apparently uninjured soldiers starting up the slope. When they reached where Caetano and Kyle were standing, the colonel gave them crisp orders; they picked up Toad and started back down. "Here," Caetano said, offering Kyle his hand.

"T'anks." Kyle said, letting the Colonel help him upright. "Cable? Sunfire?" He asked, once on his feet and sure he wasn't going to fall right back over again. Standing was good, but it made his jaw hurt even more to move his head around.

"Sunfire's fine. We'll be taking Cable out of here on a stretcher, but he doesn't seem to be badly hurt. Just in shock, or something - they tangled with another mutant out there." Caetano gave a faint chuckle. "I bet you're going to insist on walking under your own power."

Nate overdoing it didn't really surprise Kyle much. The guy was just accident-prone. It'd have been funnier if he hadn't been worried. "I heal." Kyle said, by way of answering, with a accompanying shrug. "Aspirin'd be good." He amended thoughtfully. "Ow."

--

The helicopters were moving fast - very fast - back down the river. They weren't anywhere near safe yet, and the tension on the faces of the soldiers surrounding Shiro told him that quite clearly.

The tension sharpened into worry on Caetano's face as he put a hand to his headset, a message being relayed to him from the pilot. Frowning, he moved forward to Shiro. "We've got pursuit!" he said loudly. "Three Chinese Z-10s, coming up the river behind us!"

Shiro swore vehemently enough to give several of the soldiers pause. "Of course. Have they radioed us or identified us yet?" He was out of his seat and trying to peer out the window before he finished speaking.

"Radioed, yes. Identified, hard to tell - they're telling us to reduce our speed and follow them back to their base." Caetano's expression was growingly grave. "We can't outrun them, not with the other helicopter carrying the wounded."

"Chinese," Shiro snorted. He bit his lip, pondering the situation. There was a reason he never led a team before; the extent of his strategizing was playing RPGs. But he recalled hearing about when the Blackbird was being chased by the Air Force, and Storm had called down dozens of whirlwinds to distract the other jets. What was it Logan had asked? "Do we have any weapons in this heap?" Shiro muttered, suddenly breaking into a grin. "Open the door. Let me out."

Caetano, amazingly, didn't give Shiro anything that even resembled an 'are you crazy look?' In fact, he smiled, if tightly, and leaned over to do just what the younger man had asked. "Remember," he yelled, "follow the river! Sooner we're all back in international waters, the better."

"Just get out there as quickly as possible!" Shiro double-checked his solar panels, placed the small comm headset on his hear, saluted the colonel, and dove out. He propelled himself away from the helicopter, and as soon as the Chinese copters came into sight, he offered them the finger and ignited his fire form. "Catch me if you can, fuckers."

The American helicopters both peeled off, giving him room - likely at Caetano's orders. The Chinese helicopters scattered at the sudden appearance of a burning, flying man, but regrouped quickly.

Shiro didn't give them much time. He rocketed straight towards the helicopters, leaving a trail of fire in his wake, and zoomed past them. After a quick loop, he flew back, pulling to the left once he was again in front.

Two of the helicopters came right at him, one clearly moving to try and get a clear shot at the flying mutant. The third peeled off to the right, to follow the fleeing American helicopters.

"One is still on you," Shiro said into the headset. "I will try to distract it." And by "distract it," he meant throw a fireball at it. Or in its general vicinity at least. It exploded meters away from the copter, but he hoped it would draw the pilot's attention to him.

The third helicopter banked desperately away from the fireball. "Don't get too far behind us!" came Caetano's voice over the headset. One of the other helicopters flew right at Shiro, its gunner opening fire.

Shiro fell to the right to avoid the spray of bullets, moving just fast enough to not get shot full of holes but not too fast so as to lose sight of the gunners. He made a tight turn and flew right for the copter he'd fired at. He swerved just an instant before he would have collided, drawing his fiery tail alongside it.

The helicopter banked just as desperately as its fellow had earlier. The second one came in to try the same trick, but the third had apparently decided that discretion was the better part of valor.

There weren't many more tricks that Shiro could think of that didn't involve destruction of military property and/or loss of life, and that was slightly unnerving. When the second copter targeted him and opened fire, he panicked, and a stream of solar flare erupted from his hands to lay waste to the gun. "Oops. Anou, are you out yet?" he asked over the comm.

"Coming up on the Indian border," was Caetano's reply. "They won't follow us, so get your ass back here!"

"Sugoi." Shiro offered another one-fingered salute to the copters and rocketed away in the direction of the fleeing Americans. Mission accomplished. Ish.