xp_logs | Log: Remy and Wisdom (Reply)

Backdated: Remy visits Wisdom in the medlab, and gets the whole story about what happened.

"You know, for a dead guy, you still look like hell, Wisdom." Remy said, standing in the doorway with his slightly charred trenchcoat hanging limply from his shoulders. They had sent Pete to the mansion, the fastest way to get him checked out following the ordeal, and once X-Force had landed in New York and squared themselves away, Remy had come straight over. It was in part concern, but it was also practical. No one really knew what happened yet; how the four had survived, who had held them, what had been done to their powers? He'd needed that information as much as he wanted to know that Wisdom was alright.

The Cajun grabbed a chair and slid it next to the bed, reaching into his pocket and pushing a pack of cigarettes across the tray beside him. "Don't tell de doctor. Already checked for oxygen tents and things dat blow up, just in case."

"Yeah, I've felt better." Pete scooped the cigarettes up and slid them under the pillow. "Cheers. So, what've I missed?"

"Spiderwoman-demon thing in Africa. Had McLeish killed. Nearly hunted down the Brotherhood." Remy leaned back. "What the hell happened, Pete?"

"The ground opened up and fucking swallowed us is what." Pete sighed. "Remember I said I had a really odd meeting, just before we all disappeared? It was with a warped and ugly little fuck calling himself Blaquesmith. He'd signed on to work with Apocalypse, and Apocalypse had boosted his power, but ruined his good looks. Anyway - he came to me, offered to work with us to end the fucker for good. He was in a a hurry to do it, and I told him that doing it right was going to take time. Anyway, the little shit's particular talent is to build machines that do the fucking impossible. Nanoscale cameras, and well, you might have seen what happened to the other three. He'd found out about me because he'd been monitoring Xaviers for a while. So I lit out to let Forge know he needed to come up with something to shut the fuckers machines down. I was going to sit down with you the following day, bring you up to speed..."

Pete took a deep breath.

"Went for a drink with Gar, stopped over here for the night. Then on the way back, we were jumped by a bunch of Apocalypse's goons, and fucking Creed. If I'd been on my own, I might've just tried to turn the area into a glass zone, make them back off a bit. But with the kids there-" he trailed off, and was silent for a moment.

"They took us apart. I still don't really know why they hit us, other than for the sake of it. Anyway: really long story short: I woke up in one of Blaquesmith's facilities without use of my legs, and wearing an inhibitor collar. The mad little bastard had used some of his fucking devices to keep the four of us alive, and gave me a choice - help him take down Apocalypse right damn now, or he'd let the three of them die. I don't see I had a lot of choice, did I?"

Remy was quiet, filing the information away in his head as Pete was talking. It fit the profile that they had painstakingly constructed about the attack over the months they thought Wisdom was dead. "Best we can tell, de ambush of de car was a deliberate message. Send de X-Men and us looking for de Brotherhood, to give Apocalypse's men a window to get him out of SHIELD custody."

Remy fished out a cigarette, and lit it with the tip of his finger. "What 'bout Blue Area Mesa? I know you pegged de place a couple of years ago. Dat something dat Apocalypse just stumble across?"

"No." Pete let the word hang there a second. "No, it wasn't. Wasn't part of the original plan, but when he broke out, I had to find a way to get him somewhere that would cut off his options for retreat. The poor bastards in the Blue Area were a perfect set up for him. Mutants to turn into soldiers, a pacifist doctrine to piss on, there was no way he'd ignore them if he heard about them, and if I could make sure the X-men were coming in the front door at the right time, he wasn't getting out of there. After he got away from SHIELD, I just couldn't see any other way to reliably put him in a corner. And the longer he stayed on the loose, the more chance he'd do something fucking awful again."

"Merde." Remy said softly, and took a long drag from the cigarette. "A half dozen of dem were killed in de attack, mostly on our end as far as I can tell. De founder of de community told SHIELD dat dey weren't leaving. Apocalypse had changed dem too much to ever be accepted as people; human or mutant. Calling demselves de 'Inhumans' now, closing de Blue Area complex from de world as much as possible."

LeBeau wasn't trying to heap guilt on to Pete. Like him, the man would not try to avoid learning the consequences of his decisions, and Remy felt it was better sooner than later, and from a friend. "Tell me de truth, Pete. You couldn't see another solution?"

Pete slumped a little, and didn't meet Remy's gaze. He looked about about as defeated as he ever had. "I don't know. I honestly don't. I had plenty of time, and fuck knows, I went over it again and again. I couldn't see another one that ended in him dead, and Garrison and the other two alive."

Remy looked at the man for a long moment, and nodded. "Den dat's what you had to do." Maybe there had been other solutions, but Remy had been in situations like that, where you make the best decision you can under the circumstances. There would be plenty of people who are willing to argue what he should have done, ignoring the fact that they had the advantage of formulating their plans with plenty of time and personal safety.

"I'm going to have to tell our people something. Same wit' de X-Men. How much you willing to let out dere 'bout what happened?" Remy had no issues keeping secrets, especially since there would be less than a half dozen who would understand the choice that Wisdom had been forced to make.

Pete shrugged. "Tell 'em we got kidnapped by a mad bastard who forced me to plan and execute the killing of a much worse mad bastard, using the lives of other three as hostages and weapons. That's true as far as it goes. I don't think it matters how much of it I planned to happen - some of them will probably guess, and some of them won't, and I'm OK with that but the job's done now, and I can do without some junior leather fetishist armchair quarterbacking me, and the less detail they've got about how everything got set up the Blue Area, the better on that front."

Remy nodded. "Dey say you going to be a few weeks at Muir Island. I've got your work split up between a few people. If you got anything dat we need to get on, better let Marie-Ange know before you ship it." Unfortunately for them, business had to take priority, and tomorrow was going to be another day at the office, although he'd already mentally scheduled out Amanda. "By de way. You remember dat blue shapeshifter you hate? Morgan? I'm going to offer her a job."

"You're what? But she-" Pete stopped. "No, never mind. It's a personal thing, it's always been a personal thing, and she's got a good skillset. I'll cope. Something to bear in mind though: she's got people she's close to in Mag Ealga, and might put them ahead of the job if pushed."

Pete sat back a bit, leaning into his pillows, looking drained, and slipped his hands under the covers against the chilly medlab room.

"Got a few new people need an eye kept on them - Blaquesmith knew a few people who Apocalypse was still speaking to, and I want them watched, just in case anything else connected with Apocalypse crawls out of the woodwork. Oh, and if someone could spare ten minutes to find out that bastard's real sodding name that'd be good, because I'm not going to refer to him by that stupid fucking sobriquet forever." Pete smiled just slightly at that last bit.
"Remy taking care of dat. Mag Ealga is close, but dey don't need her, in de strictest sense, and Morgan seems to be de type dat needs to be needed. Plus, having you out for over two months punched a big damn hole in our operational assets, and right now, we need some people we can push into de field immediately." Remy said, as he pinched out the end of the cigarette and rubbed his fingers against his dark t-shirt.

"I'll put some people on Apocalypse's network, see what we can shake out 'bout dis Blaquesmith. Saw de wings on dat Jay." Remy gave Pete a telling look. "Homme wit' dat kind of technology could make things very dangerous very quickly for people if it gets into de open market."

"Don't think he's in a position to sell it on. He's not a smart lad like Forge, he's a fucking freak. I think it's his actual power that keeps his machinery running, judging by a few things he said. Yeah, he built a machine to change them, but the machine won't work properly without him to run it."

"Interesting." Remy muttered, considering the implications. Already a reshaping of their priorities was taking place in his mind. He would have stayed hours if he could, considering the amount of work that needed doing, but the doctor had already warned them about stressing Wisdom further. Even Remy could see the man needed rest. "Betts and I will sat down wit' dis, see what we can reconstruct. When you back, we can talk 'out strategy going forward." He grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and swung it on over his light shirt. "You get some rest, homme. You need anything, 'manda's just outside de door. We not going to move her from dere wit'out a bulldozer, so you might as well take advantage of it, neh?"

Pete grinned at that, looking a bit more like his old self. "Yeah, well, until I get me legs back, I'm going to need someone in shouting distance, anyway. If she wants to volunteer, fine by me."

"Wheelchair. Attractive young women doing you bidding." Remy smiled. "Think dat de 'Professor W' codename looking lot less like just a joke, homme."

At that, Pete's grin really was genuine. "Get out, before I start demanding that you change me fucking bedpan, or something."