X-Men Mission: Opera Redux
Jan. 26th, 2008 02:58 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsThanks to Farouk, the trapped X-Men have a ride home.
It was cool in the hills, but still sunny; a strange contracts in a country that Kane had been sure was desert like Iraq. Instead, it had been a full days run through a hilly scrub, as opposed to a sandy waste. If you added a few billboards and a McDonald's, it could have been California or North Texas, as opposed to another country entirely. The half track groaned as Cain wrenched it over another set of rocks, and snarled as the right track finally gave way. Kane slowed and turned back, waving Shiro down from the sky. He and Ororo had been switching off aerial lookout duties and caring for Clarice, while Cain hauled them along.
"Track went again? Can we still repair it?"
Cain grumbled and walked around to the right side of the wrecked vehicle. Swearing loudly, he held up two pieces of completely shattered track. "Goddamn piece of shit Soviet surplus good-for-nothing crap! No wonder their damn country never won a war! All right, that's it," he grunted, reaching down to grip the lower half of the troop carrier's chassis. With one smooth heave, he hoisted the multiple-ton vehicle - occupants and all - onto his back like Atlas carrying the world and continued lumbering forward slowly.
"Helicopter." Garrison said flatly, pointing to a rapidly growing dot in the sky. They'd hidden in the hills from a couple, but unfortunately, here they were in the open. Scattering would do little good. He had no doubt Ororo and Shiro could bring it down, or even Cain could knock it out of the sky with the half track if needed, but all it needed was time to radio their position.
The helicopter dipped lower, but before Ororo could give a command, Kane put a hand on her arm. "I might be crazy, but is that an X on the side?"
Ororo paused in her preparations to cloud the sky; perhaps it was too late, but some effort was better than none in this case. "Disregarding for a moment that this could be a complete trick, yes, I think it is."
The Hind touched down, not far from where they were, the hastily painted X in white on the olive paint. They recognized the face in one of the hump-like cockpits; Sabra, the Israeli mutant who had been with them on the IDF mission. The side door of the helicopter opened, and Garrison froze at the sight of the red-haired woman that jumped out.
"It's no trick. That's Natasha-- something -off." He said, wondering how this woman kept showing up every time he was stuck in the ass end of the world. She jogged over, under the blades, and motioned to the helicopter.
"X-Men. We were told you were in need of a ride, da?"
It was cool in the hills, but still sunny; a strange contracts in a country that Kane had been sure was desert like Iraq. Instead, it had been a full days run through a hilly scrub, as opposed to a sandy waste. If you added a few billboards and a McDonald's, it could have been California or North Texas, as opposed to another country entirely. The half track groaned as Cain wrenched it over another set of rocks, and snarled as the right track finally gave way. Kane slowed and turned back, waving Shiro down from the sky. He and Ororo had been switching off aerial lookout duties and caring for Clarice, while Cain hauled them along.
"Track went again? Can we still repair it?"
Cain grumbled and walked around to the right side of the wrecked vehicle. Swearing loudly, he held up two pieces of completely shattered track. "Goddamn piece of shit Soviet surplus good-for-nothing crap! No wonder their damn country never won a war! All right, that's it," he grunted, reaching down to grip the lower half of the troop carrier's chassis. With one smooth heave, he hoisted the multiple-ton vehicle - occupants and all - onto his back like Atlas carrying the world and continued lumbering forward slowly.
"Helicopter." Garrison said flatly, pointing to a rapidly growing dot in the sky. They'd hidden in the hills from a couple, but unfortunately, here they were in the open. Scattering would do little good. He had no doubt Ororo and Shiro could bring it down, or even Cain could knock it out of the sky with the half track if needed, but all it needed was time to radio their position.
The helicopter dipped lower, but before Ororo could give a command, Kane put a hand on her arm. "I might be crazy, but is that an X on the side?"
Ororo paused in her preparations to cloud the sky; perhaps it was too late, but some effort was better than none in this case. "Disregarding for a moment that this could be a complete trick, yes, I think it is."
The Hind touched down, not far from where they were, the hastily painted X in white on the olive paint. They recognized the face in one of the hump-like cockpits; Sabra, the Israeli mutant who had been with them on the IDF mission. The side door of the helicopter opened, and Garrison froze at the sight of the red-haired woman that jumped out.
"It's no trick. That's Natasha-- something -off." He said, wondering how this woman kept showing up every time he was stuck in the ass end of the world. She jogged over, under the blades, and motioned to the helicopter.
"X-Men. We were told you were in need of a ride, da?"
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