xp_logs | X-Men Mission: Rubicon

When "Observe and report" becomes "Shock and awe".

Reuben was rather irritated, beyond the weird keyed-up semi-paranoia that always descended on him when his cybernetic reflex enhancements kicked in. The assignment had been a simple one, that's what their CO had told them: rotating guard patrols for a client in Brazil. Four-month rotation, no leave time but excellent profit-sharing and benefits. The very reason he'd gone into the world of private military contracting.

Not that there had been many other options for a paraplegic vet with no college and serious PTSD and Gulf War Syndrome. The VA had forgotten about him, written off his claims and shuffled him through the system without so much as a "Thank you for your service" - but when this company, Sentinel Private Military Contractors, came to him and offered to pay for all his bills, cover the mortgage he still owed on the house his ex-wife lived in, and more importantly give him a sense of purpose again, he signed on the dotted line.

It wasn't everything he expected - new legs made him a full six inches taller, and the reflex enhancements felt like he was always on a caffeine high, but Reuben knew this was the job he was destined to do. Even if it meant eighteen-hour patrol rotations in a boring jungle. Boring until today's shitstorm, anyway.

"Movement on the northeast perimeter, sector seven, go go go!" The radio in his ear sounded off with the squad leader's commands, and Reuben found his cybernetic legs speeding him forward, faster than the rest of his squad, almost as fast as his old '84 Chevette. Yes sir, becoming one of the Reavers had its perks. Not to mention the fact that any kill you made while on a job was automatically a righteous one. No Geneva Convention, no laws of war. Just doing God's work, soldier.

The visor in his helmet tinted the world green as the motion scanner went online. Almost immediately, Reuben's targeting system started to spin up, finding moving bodies that didn't register in his friend-or-foe database. That meant legit targets. He would have smiled if he still had anything like normal motion in his lower jaw instead of a steel prosthetic. Instead, he raised the high-caliber fully-automatic belt-fed rifle to his shoulder and released the safety.

His finger didn't have time to twitch on the trigger before his targeting system went completely haywire, spazzing out into static before every nerve signal from his cybernetic enhancements exploded into sparking pain. Before the safety implants took his consciousness offline and started diagnostics, Reuben's last conscious thought was a rather clear "Aw, dang..."

***

From a hundred meters away, Forge smiled as he saw the telltale flash of Jan's bio-electric blast take down the sentry. He looked up at Haller and nodded to indicate that he was ready. "Okay," he repeated the instructions that Rogue had given them. "Wasp gets me inside, I sabotage the place, wipe their computers, make it impossible for them to get anything out of there. I get that part, but you're sure you can hold your own out here?"

"Positive." It was Jim speaking, but the telepath's eyes were slightly unfocused, indicating he was already half-way gone. A little risky, leaving this up to the three of them, but on the off-chance there were Reavers on their trail it was better that Marie and Logan be there . . . and, should the boy wake up disoriented, make sure the people closest to him were the most resilient. Jim nodded to the younger man. "No switchboard once I start, though, so you'll be on your own. Be sure to let us know when you're done."

Forge gave Legion a thumbs-up and waited until another flash of Wasp's electric "sting" marked another cyborg sentry taken down. Keeping his head and shoulders low, he hustled across the open area between the jungle and the power plant, flinching as he heard the sounds of gunfire start to erupt.

Sliding to the wall and flattening himself against a large steel door, Forge placed his hand against the metal and concentrated. "Damn," he said, "it's actually physically deadbolted, I can't bypass it electronically."

"Well, I can't bypass things electronically, like, ever, but I can go where no full-sized person has gone before! Or at least where no full-sized person should have gone before, you never know with these things," Jan chattered away. "Some people are all about sneaking into places by going through vents. Which is kind of what I'm doing right now, and I'm in! Wait for it, wait for it..." There was the sound of a deadbolt moving, and the door opened. "Hi! Welcome to Evil Power Plant, Incorporated," Jan's voice spoke through the comm. "I'm Wasp, and I'll be your tour guide."

Forge chuckled, eyes hidden behind his goggles as he joined Jan inside the facility. "Okay, see those conduits there?" he said as he pointed to a gathering of wires along the ceiling, snaking down the long hallway. "They should terminate at a junction box, like a big fusebox or circuit breaker. If you overload the circuit breaker, it should blow the power and switch this place to emergency backup power. The thing is, backup power won't be able to run their security and their safety protocols at the same time."

Before Jan could fly off, however, they were interrupted by the distinct sound of a round being chambered in a firearm, followed by the bark of automatic weapons fire as a string of bulletholes peppered the walls by them. Forge hit the floor, arms covering his head.

"Naughty naughty; violence is not the answer!" A grinning, suddenly full-sized Jan appeared in front of the guard. "Hi, there!" Before the man could react, the gun had been torn from his hands, and Jan had returned to her one-inch size. "Say good night, Gracie." ZAP! "One down on this end!"

When the sound of the gunfire stopped, Forge looked up from the floor to see the Reaver face-down on the ground, and smiled. "Damn. Remind me not to get on your bad side," he commented over the communicator as he picked up the discarded weapon and split up from his teammate.

***

"No fatalities." That was what the professor had said, but when Xavier gave the orders the ambivalence was always there: a desire for approval equally matched by a desire to appall. No matter how good a boy David tried to be, or how much he had come to terms with his relationship to Xavier over the years, there was still a part of him that wanted to destroy it all.

But not today. Though she was back watching the boy with Logan and Marie, he knew he couldn't kill with Amara here. Jan and Forge, too, but especially Amara. Not after Budapest. The world would take the shine off the younger X-Men soon enough. He, at least, could make sure his end of things was . . . clean.

He announced his presence by causing a chunk of the outer wall to explode, then stood motionless as he waited for the guards to swarm from the facility. He estimated about twenty; likely not all, but close to. Fast, too -- the first wave seemed to be out in an eyeblink, taking cover behind rubble and leveling their weapons on him in the same breath. The telekinetic took a moment to appreciate the bullets where they gathered against his shield. Almost all were head or heart shots.

Cybernetic limbs moved differently than natural ones. Battle-programmed, the Reaver's prosthetics were less elegant than Forge's -- grace sacrificed for lethal functionality. As bullets peppered his shield Jack let himself get familiar with the differences, utilizing Cyndi's greater sensitivity to register even minute adjustments of aim and trigger.

He opened his eyes and smiled.

The first snap pitched a gunman to the ground screaming as he found both legs sheared through just above the knees. His gun flew from his hand, only to implode in midair like an aluminum can in the deep sea. A comrade who turned at the cries suddenly found himself without arms, then toppled as a foot disappeared as well. Another found himself suddenly armless.

He could only focus on one at a time, but the effect was crippling. Under Jack's attention, every cybernetic limb a Reaver moved, he lost. Screams of confusion and outrage were everywhere as men tried to run or retaliate, helpless against an unseen and unstoppable force.

Lips pulling back in a harsh smile, the telekinetic shifted his attention to the severed prosthetics. He chained the limbs together in his mind, imagining the end in his hand, and when he pulled back his arm the limbs followed the arc as if dragged. One man instinctively swung his weapon towards the chain only to be taken across the face by a comrade's former knee, fell and lost his gunarm in the process. Jack lashed again, barely bothering to pick a target. For the first time there was no one to shelter, no teammates to work around, only one task: to exact a toll so costly the operation would never be attempted again.

***

"Oh circuit breaker, where are you?" Jan said in a sing-song voice. "Oh, there you are. I think you get to say 'Good night', too." Careful not to get too close to it, Jan stretched out her hands, aiming at her intended target. She proceeded to let loose a barrage of constant zaps until it exploded in a shower of sparks.

"Show off!" she jokingly accused it before flying off.

Forge continued down the hall, stopping when everything went dark for a moment, then continuing when the red emergency lighting came online. Raising the gun to his shoulder, he kicked in a door and swept the barrel of the rifle around the room, startling a handful of labcoated technicians inside.

"Out! All of you, get out of here now!" he shouted in Portuguese, pointing the weapon for emphasis. Luckily, none of the technicians felt like playing hero, and they rushed past him to the exit. Checking the security cameras and ensuring that the civilians in the facility were making their way out, Forge began the process of sabotage.

"Okay," he related out loud to himself as he began triggering subroutines in the facility's computer systems. "Cooling systems offline, check. Cycle the power storage units into a rapid charge-discharge loop, check. Why can't these places just come with a big red Self Destruct button, huh? Possibly because they're not built by a crazy ex-Nazi with a bag over his head, but still. They should have some respect for tradition. Capacitor banks ramped to three hundred percent, and we have arcing... now."

On the cameras, he could see banks of computers exploding, and power storage units rupturing violently, flames spreading through the building. "Wasp!" he called over the communicator, "That's our cue! We've got about two minutes before this place goes up like a fireworks stand!"

Jan zipped through the halls as fast as she could until she caught sight of Forge. She flew over and landed on his head. "Let's get out of here; I think maybe I can wait until the fourth of July to see a big giant fireworks display!"

***

Men trying to move around Jack were met either with a telekinetic backhand or a blow from the grotesque whip that grew longer with every maiming. One man in the back seemed to have assumed the lead, barking what sounded like orders and trying to provide ineffectual covering fire. Casually dismembering men with their own prosthetics, Jack saved him for last.

The man was no coward. He didn't even flinch as Jack strode through a field of maimed men, trailing cybernetics. Any guns the fallen reached for were pulverized. Any man who made the attempt was lashed with the writhing snake of limbs. The last man continued to shoot right until the gun was wrenched from his grasp. His only response was a cold stare.

Jack stopped a few yards away. "You speak English?" he asked. Behind him the expensive gun joined the chain, slowly warping from weapon to unrecognizable twist of metal.

"Of course I speak English, you mutie son of a bitch," the Reaver said, one eye glaring at Jack, the other hidden behind a red glass implant. "But all you're getting from me is name, rank, and serial." The cyborg went down to his knees, interlacing his fingers behind his head. "Go ahead and kill me, because we'll come for you, and then your family, and then everyone you know. We've got people."

Jack smiled. "Don't need to kill you, and don't need your name. Just want you to get a message to your employers." He jerked his head towards the facility. "This set-up, humans for fuel? Unless we're talking government-sponsored job with benefits, it doesn't happen again."

"We don't ask questions," the Reaver growled. "We're professionals. You? You're a dead man. I won't forget your face, mutie."

The telekinetic shrugged. "Tell them or don't. Suppose that, if nothing else, we'll just have to trust in the power of inference. Now, just so's we can't be said to be playing favorites . . ."

The Reaver's right arm and leg sheared off, and a final blow of telekinesis sent him flying into the trees. Jack snorted, finally releasing his hold on the prosthetics.

"See that, 'dad'?" he said as metal thudded to the ground around him. "Better part of a mercenary company, and not one casualty to the kid's name. You must be so proud." He stooped to pick up the remains of an arm, tossing it up and down. "More or less."

The civilians that were running from the facility didn't stop to check on the fallen Reavers, just heading away from Haller and diving into Jeeps and Humvees, heading down a barely-visible road at high speed. Right behind them, Forge was running out towards Haller, Jan barely visible flying alongside him.

He stopped next to the taller mutant and caught his breath. "Power cell... overload... place is going to be... whew. Going to be rubble in... about twenty seconds."

Jack arched an eyebrow. "Too bad for Cyndi, not getting to be involved in all that fire." He eyed the crippled Reavers, then, curling his lip, dragged the ones too close or too unconscious into the treeline with one short, sharp movement of his hand. That was all they were getting from him. After that, well. They knew the job. He turned back to the others. "Wasp, might want to go full-size for me. Less you want to take your chances unshielded, that is."

Jan zipped around before shifting to her normal five-foot-four, walking on one side of Haller while Forge matched their pace on the other side. There were no more gunshots, no more screaming. The job was done, except for--

--the explosion from the power facility boomed like God's own thunder, sending a fireball hundreds of feet high into the sky, with charred debris falling like meteors to harmlessly bounce off the telekinetic shield surrounding the three X-Men.

None of them looked back.