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xp_logsX-Force goes after the fake Bennett in his own home, learning that he's only one visible piece in a much larger puzzle.
There was a security system on the house, but it was a standard agency installation. Which meant it was only worth a few minutes delay in bypassing it. They moved through the dark grounds, standing by the edge of the home. The two German guards would be inside, and they deserved more respect. Either one could be difficult unless quickly neutralized. Fortunately, that shouldn't be much more of a delay.
Remy pointed to Amanda and Wanda, sending them around to the other side and the door there. They were guessing at least one of the guys would be on the ground floor in that area. He motioned for Frost and Farouk to wait; he could have used the telepaths to secure the guards from here, but that kind of telepathic tampering left clues behind, and he wanted to avoid that. He had no problem with Bennett’s masters knowing that someone got to him, but he didn’t want to hand them proof it was mutants involved. Instead, it would up to him to find and secure the second guard.
Then they'd deal with Dexter Bennett.
Leading the way, Wanda kept close to the walls and utilized the shadows from the house itself to keep herself as hidden as possible. There were two windows on the ground floor but they crouched to by pass them and soon found themselves at the other door. For the moment, Wanda paused on one side of the door as Amanda did the same. Catching the other young woman’s eye, she made a familiar signal that they’d used time and time again.
When they went in, Wanda would go in first with Amanda as back up. They were very, very good at that particular procedure.
Amanda nodded, closing her eyes briefly as she drew on the scant power reserves the town generated. Not big enough to count as a city, but at least old enough to have a smidgeon of the good stuff. Enough for a shielding spell, if needed. Opening her eyes again, she gave Wanda a quick thumb’s up. Showtime, Boss Lady.
Very carefully, Wanda send a tendril of thought towards Farouk as her hand moved towards the doorknob. ~Would you kindly let Remy know we’re in position?~ She grinned in the dark. ~On his mark, we’ll clean up the ground floor and let you all in.~
“They are in,” Amahl said. “And are rather bloodthirstily enthusiastic to get started.”
*Sociopathic bitches, the lot of them,* Shadow King commented acidly from the back of Farouk’s mind.
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t just mind-burn everyone in the house,” Emma complained.
*... like I said.*
“Ms. Frost, we’d rather not announce dat a telepath took issue wit Bennett. Whoever planned dis has significant resources. At least enough to get a reasonably decent telepath to deduce dat psionics were involved. Remy want dem looking at as many possible culprits as possible.” Emma had a point. With the power at her command, they could be on Bennett without any chance of discovery. But something didn’t sit right with Remy; instinct was telling him that leaving behind as few traces as possible was important, and he was willing to assume some risk to do that. “As for bloodthirsty, his plan is to kill tens of thousands of people. We don’t like dat. Dat isn’t following de rules.” Remy’s red on black glare flicked from Emma back to Amahl. “Tell Wanda to move in.”
The Cajun disappeared into the shadows without another word.
Farouk shrugged at Frost. “He’s very serious.”
Finding the conduit to Maximoff’s mind he tapped her shields gently.
~His Terribleness has spoken. You may engage in extreme violence now.~
~Christmas has come early!~ came the reply.
Wanda moved into position as Amanda came up behind her, giving her enough room to maneuver in case anything happened but close enough to move up, well, in case anything happened. Keeping her hands close to her stomach to hide the red flash, Wanda sharply tugged on the string attached to the door lock and it shattered quite nicely as she jerked on the handle and the door opened without a sound.
They would have seconds once they spotted the guard and not a moment more.
While Wanda took care of the door, Amanda was watching behind them, making sure they weren’t ambushed. A tap on her shoulder let her know they were moving and the witch turned, following Wanda as she slipped inside and closing the door behind them just as silently.
The house was dark, but to Amanda’s tension-heightened senses, there was an unmistakable sense of presence. The slightest creak of a floorboard ahead of them signaled their first target was somewhere in the next room.
Instantly Wanda dropped back into a half-crouch and started towards the noise and the guard in the dark. She was willing to bet they were armed in some form – guns or knives perhaps – so she wanted to take him down as quickly as she could. The room she was now entering might have been some kind of sitting room as she thought she saw a vague form of a couch in the background.
But she didn’t have much of a chance to really allow her eyes to adjust as the man in front of her whipped around in surprise as she exploded out of the crouch and right into his knees. They both hit the couch, which muffled the sound of their fall (because sometimes even she was naturally lucky) as they tumbled towards the floor.
An elbow to his throat allowed Wanda to gain the upper hand as she shimmied up and pinned him to the ground.
It gave her the upper hand ... until she noticed the glint of the knife whipping towards her opened rib cage.
There was a muffled clapping sound and then the blade skidded off a blue bubble of light that surrounded the man’s hand – Amanda’s shielding spell, but far smaller and compact than anything she had managed before. A moment later a steel-toed Doc Marten slammed into the man’s head, the witch going for the most expedient way of dealing with the situation quickly.
The look of surprise quickly melted off of Wanda’s face as she grinned and patted Amanda on the leg as she rolled off the now unconscious man beneath her. She pointed to him and then to the darker shadows at the back off the room before she turned and padded towards the front door. She’d let Amanda deal with hiding the man as she saw fit as she opened the door for the rest of the team.
Carefully, because the last thing she wanted was a charged card to the face, Wanda unlocked the front door and gently swung it open an inch before moving backwards to press her back against the wall next to the stairwell.
Remy stepped out at the top of the stairwell, motioning them up. There was no sign of another guard, and Remy didn’t seem interested in updating Wanda on what had happened. As they grouped up, he whispered carefully. “He’s in his study. No other way out.”
“Let’s go see the wizard then, I suppose.” Amahl glanced at Wanda and motioned her forward, arm extended.
*You aren’t nearly as clever and funny as you think you are, you know.* Shadow King pointed out helpfully.
*Shut up, figment.*
Smirking at Farouk, she walked past him and patted his arm in amusement. She sobered immediately as she paused at the edge of the door that led into the study. A quick look proved that there were no more security measures on the door and Wanda nodded at Remy as she once more paused on the opposite side of the door.
Remy pushed the door open, and the man at the desk turned around suddenly, surprised. Dexter Bennett was an entirely ordinary looking man; middle aged, brown haired and running slightly to fat. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”
“Dexter Bennett. De Moseley Initiative is over.” Remy said, stepping aside to let the others in.
“Is it?” Bennett seemed strangely composed for a man woken by armed strangers and trapped in his own room.
His hand rose seemingly to rub the last dregs of sleepiness out of his eyes and then, snake-quick, darted toward the dresser and the revolver resting on top of it.
“Now that’s just rude,” Farouk huffed offendedly, exerting just enough TK to shift the pistol out of Bennett’s reach.
It hit the ground and skidded along the carpet, with some help, until Wanda pressed a boot over top of it to stop it from going any further. “I believe he said it was over,” she said mildly. “And my illustrious friend is going tell you exactly what you can do now that we’ve declared that it is so.”
“Dexter Bennett is dead. Died in Switzerland five years ago. I don’t know who you are, but we can prove dat you not Bennett. Dat goes public tomorrow.” Remy said, flatly. “Doesn’t really matter who you are, honestly. I want to know who is giving de orders.”
Bennett straightened and smiled at then, the teeth flashing in a tired and darkly wise smile. “All you can do is kill me. And there are worse things than death.”
Catching the hint of movement among the mutants he raised his hand in a simple negation, his smile thinning. “Don’t bother with the psychic crap. I’m triggered to die quite messily if anyone probes the wrong part of my brain. So why don’t you just go ahead and end this. Trust me – I am the least of your problems. You’ve just stepped into the river of shite.”
Remy stepped forward, viper quick, and seized Bennett by the throat. “One of de things worse den death is me, homme. Dis can last years if it has to. But we’re ready to be nice and let you end youself, painlessly, in return for a little information. And before you think dat you brain is protected, de lady behind me can change de odds from certain to something else at a word.”
“It’s amazing to see,” Wanda drawled as she crossed her arms across her chest. Despite the movement, she deliberately let him see the waving, bright red rings around her wrists. “For everything I cannot touch, cannot even think of touching, there is one or two places that I can.” She locked eyes with Bennett. “Who knows – they might be connected to your ability to keep you secrets from us. Or, perhaps, your ability to control your bladder. I won’t know until I start mucking about in there, now, will I?”
Bennett coughed delicately and waited until Remy slackened the grip. “I’ve ceased to be impressed by theatrics a long time ago. If you think you can break my mind’s lockbox, you are welcome to try. I wish you wouldn’t though – brain matter is hell on the dry-cleaning. Ask your questions if you dare, but I’d be careful, if I were you. Even I don’t know all the traps and triggers that have been stuck in there.”
“That’s okay – we’re prepared to do surgery if we must,” she replied, walking closer to the desk. She left the gun behind her in a pile of metal grey dust.
“Wanda, if he’s going to be difficult, go to work.” Remy said, leaning back and crossing his arms.
“Ah, if I may… “ Farouk pulled Wanda aside. “What’s your play here exactly?”
She stared back at him flatly, “We need the answers.”
“Yes, we do.” Farouk agreed mildly. “And if he’s telling the truth all it will take is one wrong weave to leave necromancy as out only solution. I’ve been present at three attempts to defuse a mind rigged to self-destruct when faced with an interrogation. Only one was successful.”
“That’s nice. Do you have any better ideas?”
“No. Just a suggestion – this is not a usual mind-probe. Don’t approach it as such. His mind has been turned into a weapon, but unlike the conventional defense, the focus of its attack will not be you. As soon as you breach the shields his entire psyche will turn in upon itself. And if you don’t disconnect in time, it will take you with it.”
“Farouk has a point. Dere was a Chinese agent who had de same protection. Dey probed him basically mentally waiting to catch de punch.” Remy ignored the sudden cracks appearing in Bennett’s controlled visage. “At worst, if we can divert it away from de memory centres, I don’t care if he spends de next thirty years shitting himself and screaming in pain so long as we get de information.”
Wanda chewed on her lower lip meditatively, staring at the pale man struggling to hold on to his dignity and self-composure. It was clear that he was not able to talk even if willing. Yet the risks of forcing her way in were clearly considerable.
Farouk touched her shoulder softly. “Would you like a synch? Frost and I can parallel you and backstop if it goes sideways.”
Since she’d never attempted anything like this … “We’ll need to pop in and out,” Wanda commented slowly as she worked it out in her mind, “like a needle threading through a rip. My powers will kick you out but if you give me a channel to go through, direct me before I turn them on … yes. Yes. This will work. Synch with me, allow me to bulldoze – for want of a better term – my way in. I turn off my powers and you lot go through the holes I’ve made. Now then, let’s see about this…” She gave Remy a twisted smile as she continued, “Hold him tightly, my friend, this will not be pleasant.”
Wanda didn’t need physical touch but instead, let her hand hover over Bennet’s face as her power opened up like a game of strings before her own mind. Carefully she took note of where Farouk had started to point out a good opening for her and then she grabbed and gently, viciously twisted on the string that wiggled out of that particular section of the other man’s mind.
Bennett’s eyes rolled back and his body sprung silently and savagely forward, straining against LeBeau’s grip. Frost and Farouk staggered simultaneously backwards, their faces twisting with eerily identical grimaces of pain as the backlash of Wanda’s powers forced them out of the violated mind. Wanda herself remained poised, intent on the task at hand, her consciousness far from the dark room and the struggle now unfolding there.
Bennett’s assault, all the more terrifying for the complete silence in which it played out, seemed to intensify his fingers bending into claws and stretching out, seeking Remy’s eyes, his teeth sinking into the cleft of Cajun’s neck and shoulder, the eyes white with the absence of mind behind them underscored the utter blankness of face of the killing meat machine that, in a single instance, replaced the man who had been defying the X-Force only a second before.
The Cajun grimaced, and lashed out with a short blow, striking his jaw at the point and instantly breaking the grip by his bite. With a shake, he pushed him back, his hands clasping at him but not reaching him. “Wanda, was dis de plan?”
“Well, I didn’t mean for him to bite you if that’s what you’re asking,” Wanda retorted, shaking her head as she came back to herself. “I think we’re forcing our way through the conditioning, level by level.” She turned her head back to Farouk and Emma. “We don’t have the time for this. Show me what, and where, to manipulate to get through the levels. These mind games aren’t exactly what my powers are made for.”
But if anyone’s powers lent themselves to being used in new and interesting ways…
Farouk’s mind lashed out the instruction, the information that would have taken precious minutes to explain vocally, transmitted instantaneously. Wanda swallowed drily and dove back in, Bennett’s precious, all important memories glowing to the telepaths within his private astral universe the scape around them collapsing in upon itself and reforming into the images of monsters, childhood nightmares, the things of teeth and hate, of hunger and death all reaching for the center of his self. Wanda shuddered, unable to really See what was going on but it felt as if something inside of her echoed back in a hollow feeling and with the practiced trick of the mind steeled herself, ignoring the pain and drawing on the reserves of power offered by Farouk, Emma and, through them, even Amanda still busy disposing of the bodies.
The structure of simulacrum provided by Farouk shone brilliantly behind her eyes and she focused, powers puncturing and pulling on and off, her powers carving a way in. It was an act of desperation, brute force and consummate skill combining to stave off the defenses put up by minds of devious power and utter ruthlessness.
It could not work for long but a split second, a fleeting moment that would not even be perceived outside of this private hell, Bennett’s defenses stood confused, their targeting programming split. Within fractions of a second the simulacrum collapsed and Bennett’s memories disappeared in the welter of chaos and destruction.
Yet that moment’s respite was all it took and even as Bennett’s mind died around her, the telepaths reached for the escape racing the mind-quake for the safety of their own consciences.
The figure in Remy’s grasp stiffened, and his hands locked on to his own throat. They whitened at the knuckles as he gripped his own throat so hard at you could hear his trachea creak. Remy took a step back. “Do we have de information? Do we have it?” He said, harshly.
“We bloody well better have!” Wanda gasped out, her entire body trembling with the nearness of being caught and drawn into Bennett’s self-destruction.
LeBeau’s face remained impassive as he looked at the empty husk before him go beyond the simplest human instincts, beyond the point where any normal person would pass out. But Bennett wasn’t human anymore, simply a thing of flesh and bone and hate reaching across the human limitations. The long graceful fingers squeezed and squeezed until even the crudest semblance of life had faded and that was left was body, voiding itself in the last, inevitable, humiliating act of death.
Wanda immediately sagged against part of the desk that wasn’t occupied by anything of important and clutched her head with one hand. Blood seeped in steady streams out of her nose and ears and she fought a wave of nausea. She would have to get the cliff notes from Farouk or Emma later on what, exactly, she had accomplished. Now Wanda simply concentrated on not fainting dead away in the study of a dead man.
“Is it finished?” she slurred, voice muffled by her hand.
“It’s done. Telepathic kill command. Someone constructed dis person, who ever he was beforehand.” Remy shared a look with Amahl. It was rare; such telepathic reconstruction with the triggers to override basic survival instincts was the equivalent of rebuilding and programming a supercomputer from scratch. It required a huge amount of time and resources just to break down and sweep away the existing personality, as well as overriding basic core commands from the cerebellum to allow for an auto-suicide command. Remy doubted that the Agency had the capacity to do it these days, and outside of a telepath on par with an Emma Frost or Betsy Braddock, the costs of such a program would be prohibitive for most goals. Even the potential payout of the failed operation wouldn’t justify the cost.
Remy shook his head and nodded at the door. “Let’s get out of here. Thanks to Wanda, it should look like Bennett’s programming went into overdrive under question, and not as an invasive telepathic attack. We should be clean.” As he followed the rest out, LeBeau didn’t mention his other thought; that whoever had placed Bennett knew that a British agent had been on the trail, and if it wasn’t the government that had looked into it, it was someone with connections inside it still. As careful as they might be, Remy had a bad feeling that whoever they were looking for knew who they were.
And were waiting.
There was a security system on the house, but it was a standard agency installation. Which meant it was only worth a few minutes delay in bypassing it. They moved through the dark grounds, standing by the edge of the home. The two German guards would be inside, and they deserved more respect. Either one could be difficult unless quickly neutralized. Fortunately, that shouldn't be much more of a delay.
Remy pointed to Amanda and Wanda, sending them around to the other side and the door there. They were guessing at least one of the guys would be on the ground floor in that area. He motioned for Frost and Farouk to wait; he could have used the telepaths to secure the guards from here, but that kind of telepathic tampering left clues behind, and he wanted to avoid that. He had no problem with Bennett’s masters knowing that someone got to him, but he didn’t want to hand them proof it was mutants involved. Instead, it would up to him to find and secure the second guard.
Then they'd deal with Dexter Bennett.
Leading the way, Wanda kept close to the walls and utilized the shadows from the house itself to keep herself as hidden as possible. There were two windows on the ground floor but they crouched to by pass them and soon found themselves at the other door. For the moment, Wanda paused on one side of the door as Amanda did the same. Catching the other young woman’s eye, she made a familiar signal that they’d used time and time again.
When they went in, Wanda would go in first with Amanda as back up. They were very, very good at that particular procedure.
Amanda nodded, closing her eyes briefly as she drew on the scant power reserves the town generated. Not big enough to count as a city, but at least old enough to have a smidgeon of the good stuff. Enough for a shielding spell, if needed. Opening her eyes again, she gave Wanda a quick thumb’s up. Showtime, Boss Lady.
Very carefully, Wanda send a tendril of thought towards Farouk as her hand moved towards the doorknob. ~Would you kindly let Remy know we’re in position?~ She grinned in the dark. ~On his mark, we’ll clean up the ground floor and let you all in.~
“They are in,” Amahl said. “And are rather bloodthirstily enthusiastic to get started.”
*Sociopathic bitches, the lot of them,* Shadow King commented acidly from the back of Farouk’s mind.
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t just mind-burn everyone in the house,” Emma complained.
*... like I said.*
“Ms. Frost, we’d rather not announce dat a telepath took issue wit Bennett. Whoever planned dis has significant resources. At least enough to get a reasonably decent telepath to deduce dat psionics were involved. Remy want dem looking at as many possible culprits as possible.” Emma had a point. With the power at her command, they could be on Bennett without any chance of discovery. But something didn’t sit right with Remy; instinct was telling him that leaving behind as few traces as possible was important, and he was willing to assume some risk to do that. “As for bloodthirsty, his plan is to kill tens of thousands of people. We don’t like dat. Dat isn’t following de rules.” Remy’s red on black glare flicked from Emma back to Amahl. “Tell Wanda to move in.”
The Cajun disappeared into the shadows without another word.
Farouk shrugged at Frost. “He’s very serious.”
Finding the conduit to Maximoff’s mind he tapped her shields gently.
~His Terribleness has spoken. You may engage in extreme violence now.~
~Christmas has come early!~ came the reply.
Wanda moved into position as Amanda came up behind her, giving her enough room to maneuver in case anything happened but close enough to move up, well, in case anything happened. Keeping her hands close to her stomach to hide the red flash, Wanda sharply tugged on the string attached to the door lock and it shattered quite nicely as she jerked on the handle and the door opened without a sound.
They would have seconds once they spotted the guard and not a moment more.
While Wanda took care of the door, Amanda was watching behind them, making sure they weren’t ambushed. A tap on her shoulder let her know they were moving and the witch turned, following Wanda as she slipped inside and closing the door behind them just as silently.
The house was dark, but to Amanda’s tension-heightened senses, there was an unmistakable sense of presence. The slightest creak of a floorboard ahead of them signaled their first target was somewhere in the next room.
Instantly Wanda dropped back into a half-crouch and started towards the noise and the guard in the dark. She was willing to bet they were armed in some form – guns or knives perhaps – so she wanted to take him down as quickly as she could. The room she was now entering might have been some kind of sitting room as she thought she saw a vague form of a couch in the background.
But she didn’t have much of a chance to really allow her eyes to adjust as the man in front of her whipped around in surprise as she exploded out of the crouch and right into his knees. They both hit the couch, which muffled the sound of their fall (because sometimes even she was naturally lucky) as they tumbled towards the floor.
An elbow to his throat allowed Wanda to gain the upper hand as she shimmied up and pinned him to the ground.
It gave her the upper hand ... until she noticed the glint of the knife whipping towards her opened rib cage.
There was a muffled clapping sound and then the blade skidded off a blue bubble of light that surrounded the man’s hand – Amanda’s shielding spell, but far smaller and compact than anything she had managed before. A moment later a steel-toed Doc Marten slammed into the man’s head, the witch going for the most expedient way of dealing with the situation quickly.
The look of surprise quickly melted off of Wanda’s face as she grinned and patted Amanda on the leg as she rolled off the now unconscious man beneath her. She pointed to him and then to the darker shadows at the back off the room before she turned and padded towards the front door. She’d let Amanda deal with hiding the man as she saw fit as she opened the door for the rest of the team.
Carefully, because the last thing she wanted was a charged card to the face, Wanda unlocked the front door and gently swung it open an inch before moving backwards to press her back against the wall next to the stairwell.
Remy stepped out at the top of the stairwell, motioning them up. There was no sign of another guard, and Remy didn’t seem interested in updating Wanda on what had happened. As they grouped up, he whispered carefully. “He’s in his study. No other way out.”
“Let’s go see the wizard then, I suppose.” Amahl glanced at Wanda and motioned her forward, arm extended.
*You aren’t nearly as clever and funny as you think you are, you know.* Shadow King pointed out helpfully.
*Shut up, figment.*
Smirking at Farouk, she walked past him and patted his arm in amusement. She sobered immediately as she paused at the edge of the door that led into the study. A quick look proved that there were no more security measures on the door and Wanda nodded at Remy as she once more paused on the opposite side of the door.
Remy pushed the door open, and the man at the desk turned around suddenly, surprised. Dexter Bennett was an entirely ordinary looking man; middle aged, brown haired and running slightly to fat. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”
“Dexter Bennett. De Moseley Initiative is over.” Remy said, stepping aside to let the others in.
“Is it?” Bennett seemed strangely composed for a man woken by armed strangers and trapped in his own room.
His hand rose seemingly to rub the last dregs of sleepiness out of his eyes and then, snake-quick, darted toward the dresser and the revolver resting on top of it.
“Now that’s just rude,” Farouk huffed offendedly, exerting just enough TK to shift the pistol out of Bennett’s reach.
It hit the ground and skidded along the carpet, with some help, until Wanda pressed a boot over top of it to stop it from going any further. “I believe he said it was over,” she said mildly. “And my illustrious friend is going tell you exactly what you can do now that we’ve declared that it is so.”
“Dexter Bennett is dead. Died in Switzerland five years ago. I don’t know who you are, but we can prove dat you not Bennett. Dat goes public tomorrow.” Remy said, flatly. “Doesn’t really matter who you are, honestly. I want to know who is giving de orders.”
Bennett straightened and smiled at then, the teeth flashing in a tired and darkly wise smile. “All you can do is kill me. And there are worse things than death.”
Catching the hint of movement among the mutants he raised his hand in a simple negation, his smile thinning. “Don’t bother with the psychic crap. I’m triggered to die quite messily if anyone probes the wrong part of my brain. So why don’t you just go ahead and end this. Trust me – I am the least of your problems. You’ve just stepped into the river of shite.”
Remy stepped forward, viper quick, and seized Bennett by the throat. “One of de things worse den death is me, homme. Dis can last years if it has to. But we’re ready to be nice and let you end youself, painlessly, in return for a little information. And before you think dat you brain is protected, de lady behind me can change de odds from certain to something else at a word.”
“It’s amazing to see,” Wanda drawled as she crossed her arms across her chest. Despite the movement, she deliberately let him see the waving, bright red rings around her wrists. “For everything I cannot touch, cannot even think of touching, there is one or two places that I can.” She locked eyes with Bennett. “Who knows – they might be connected to your ability to keep you secrets from us. Or, perhaps, your ability to control your bladder. I won’t know until I start mucking about in there, now, will I?”
Bennett coughed delicately and waited until Remy slackened the grip. “I’ve ceased to be impressed by theatrics a long time ago. If you think you can break my mind’s lockbox, you are welcome to try. I wish you wouldn’t though – brain matter is hell on the dry-cleaning. Ask your questions if you dare, but I’d be careful, if I were you. Even I don’t know all the traps and triggers that have been stuck in there.”
“That’s okay – we’re prepared to do surgery if we must,” she replied, walking closer to the desk. She left the gun behind her in a pile of metal grey dust.
“Wanda, if he’s going to be difficult, go to work.” Remy said, leaning back and crossing his arms.
“Ah, if I may… “ Farouk pulled Wanda aside. “What’s your play here exactly?”
She stared back at him flatly, “We need the answers.”
“Yes, we do.” Farouk agreed mildly. “And if he’s telling the truth all it will take is one wrong weave to leave necromancy as out only solution. I’ve been present at three attempts to defuse a mind rigged to self-destruct when faced with an interrogation. Only one was successful.”
“That’s nice. Do you have any better ideas?”
“No. Just a suggestion – this is not a usual mind-probe. Don’t approach it as such. His mind has been turned into a weapon, but unlike the conventional defense, the focus of its attack will not be you. As soon as you breach the shields his entire psyche will turn in upon itself. And if you don’t disconnect in time, it will take you with it.”
“Farouk has a point. Dere was a Chinese agent who had de same protection. Dey probed him basically mentally waiting to catch de punch.” Remy ignored the sudden cracks appearing in Bennett’s controlled visage. “At worst, if we can divert it away from de memory centres, I don’t care if he spends de next thirty years shitting himself and screaming in pain so long as we get de information.”
Wanda chewed on her lower lip meditatively, staring at the pale man struggling to hold on to his dignity and self-composure. It was clear that he was not able to talk even if willing. Yet the risks of forcing her way in were clearly considerable.
Farouk touched her shoulder softly. “Would you like a synch? Frost and I can parallel you and backstop if it goes sideways.”
Since she’d never attempted anything like this … “We’ll need to pop in and out,” Wanda commented slowly as she worked it out in her mind, “like a needle threading through a rip. My powers will kick you out but if you give me a channel to go through, direct me before I turn them on … yes. Yes. This will work. Synch with me, allow me to bulldoze – for want of a better term – my way in. I turn off my powers and you lot go through the holes I’ve made. Now then, let’s see about this…” She gave Remy a twisted smile as she continued, “Hold him tightly, my friend, this will not be pleasant.”
Wanda didn’t need physical touch but instead, let her hand hover over Bennet’s face as her power opened up like a game of strings before her own mind. Carefully she took note of where Farouk had started to point out a good opening for her and then she grabbed and gently, viciously twisted on the string that wiggled out of that particular section of the other man’s mind.
Bennett’s eyes rolled back and his body sprung silently and savagely forward, straining against LeBeau’s grip. Frost and Farouk staggered simultaneously backwards, their faces twisting with eerily identical grimaces of pain as the backlash of Wanda’s powers forced them out of the violated mind. Wanda herself remained poised, intent on the task at hand, her consciousness far from the dark room and the struggle now unfolding there.
Bennett’s assault, all the more terrifying for the complete silence in which it played out, seemed to intensify his fingers bending into claws and stretching out, seeking Remy’s eyes, his teeth sinking into the cleft of Cajun’s neck and shoulder, the eyes white with the absence of mind behind them underscored the utter blankness of face of the killing meat machine that, in a single instance, replaced the man who had been defying the X-Force only a second before.
The Cajun grimaced, and lashed out with a short blow, striking his jaw at the point and instantly breaking the grip by his bite. With a shake, he pushed him back, his hands clasping at him but not reaching him. “Wanda, was dis de plan?”
“Well, I didn’t mean for him to bite you if that’s what you’re asking,” Wanda retorted, shaking her head as she came back to herself. “I think we’re forcing our way through the conditioning, level by level.” She turned her head back to Farouk and Emma. “We don’t have the time for this. Show me what, and where, to manipulate to get through the levels. These mind games aren’t exactly what my powers are made for.”
But if anyone’s powers lent themselves to being used in new and interesting ways…
Farouk’s mind lashed out the instruction, the information that would have taken precious minutes to explain vocally, transmitted instantaneously. Wanda swallowed drily and dove back in, Bennett’s precious, all important memories glowing to the telepaths within his private astral universe the scape around them collapsing in upon itself and reforming into the images of monsters, childhood nightmares, the things of teeth and hate, of hunger and death all reaching for the center of his self. Wanda shuddered, unable to really See what was going on but it felt as if something inside of her echoed back in a hollow feeling and with the practiced trick of the mind steeled herself, ignoring the pain and drawing on the reserves of power offered by Farouk, Emma and, through them, even Amanda still busy disposing of the bodies.
The structure of simulacrum provided by Farouk shone brilliantly behind her eyes and she focused, powers puncturing and pulling on and off, her powers carving a way in. It was an act of desperation, brute force and consummate skill combining to stave off the defenses put up by minds of devious power and utter ruthlessness.
It could not work for long but a split second, a fleeting moment that would not even be perceived outside of this private hell, Bennett’s defenses stood confused, their targeting programming split. Within fractions of a second the simulacrum collapsed and Bennett’s memories disappeared in the welter of chaos and destruction.
Yet that moment’s respite was all it took and even as Bennett’s mind died around her, the telepaths reached for the escape racing the mind-quake for the safety of their own consciences.
The figure in Remy’s grasp stiffened, and his hands locked on to his own throat. They whitened at the knuckles as he gripped his own throat so hard at you could hear his trachea creak. Remy took a step back. “Do we have de information? Do we have it?” He said, harshly.
“We bloody well better have!” Wanda gasped out, her entire body trembling with the nearness of being caught and drawn into Bennett’s self-destruction.
LeBeau’s face remained impassive as he looked at the empty husk before him go beyond the simplest human instincts, beyond the point where any normal person would pass out. But Bennett wasn’t human anymore, simply a thing of flesh and bone and hate reaching across the human limitations. The long graceful fingers squeezed and squeezed until even the crudest semblance of life had faded and that was left was body, voiding itself in the last, inevitable, humiliating act of death.
Wanda immediately sagged against part of the desk that wasn’t occupied by anything of important and clutched her head with one hand. Blood seeped in steady streams out of her nose and ears and she fought a wave of nausea. She would have to get the cliff notes from Farouk or Emma later on what, exactly, she had accomplished. Now Wanda simply concentrated on not fainting dead away in the study of a dead man.
“Is it finished?” she slurred, voice muffled by her hand.
“It’s done. Telepathic kill command. Someone constructed dis person, who ever he was beforehand.” Remy shared a look with Amahl. It was rare; such telepathic reconstruction with the triggers to override basic survival instincts was the equivalent of rebuilding and programming a supercomputer from scratch. It required a huge amount of time and resources just to break down and sweep away the existing personality, as well as overriding basic core commands from the cerebellum to allow for an auto-suicide command. Remy doubted that the Agency had the capacity to do it these days, and outside of a telepath on par with an Emma Frost or Betsy Braddock, the costs of such a program would be prohibitive for most goals. Even the potential payout of the failed operation wouldn’t justify the cost.
Remy shook his head and nodded at the door. “Let’s get out of here. Thanks to Wanda, it should look like Bennett’s programming went into overdrive under question, and not as an invasive telepathic attack. We should be clean.” As he followed the rest out, LeBeau didn’t mention his other thought; that whoever had placed Bennett knew that a British agent had been on the trail, and if it wasn’t the government that had looked into it, it was someone with connections inside it still. As careful as they might be, Remy had a bad feeling that whoever they were looking for knew who they were.
And were waiting.
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