X-Men Mission: The Grotesque and the Sublime: In The Dock of the Bay

[x-dominion.livejournal.com]

The X-Men follow up on Archie's hint with an investigation of the docks of Subline Pharm Solutions.



"Sublime Pharm Solutions." Kane said, reading the sign. They had followed Corrigan's tip off from the Blackbird's computers, running down possible combinations of the 'Sublime PS' note they'd been slipped. Corrigan flight log had him stopping in Hong Kong on the way to and from Madripoor, and it wasn't long before the company's name had come up as a fit. It was a newer company that had seized a good piece of the market in a fairly short time. Headquartered in Hong Kong, with offices through-out Asia, the only thing that didn't fit with the company was why it would hire Archie Corrigan in the first place, who'd made it clear that he wasn't hired to smuggle drugs, or what it could want in Edmonton at the time. They owned a large private dock in Madripoor, which was the only real lead that they had, and the X-Men had decided to check it out.

The complex was built around a massive warehouse, and multiple piers suitable for loading and unloading major cargo vessels. Clearly, the dock was one of the company's major shipping hubs, and whatever they were involved with could have possibly come through here. "How do you want to play this one?"

"Fast and quiet," Jean said, glancing over the structure.

"Let's see if we can find a way in there to see what they're up to. If, on the extreme off chance it turns out they happen to be the only nice up-standing citizens in Madripoor we don't want to be igniting a spark around a powder keg so be careful. Let's not add a check mark to 'places we can't go to without wearing disguises,'" she said. It was already bad enough there.

Hank looked up at the structure, popping the small chunk of power bar he had been consuming on the way over to keep up his drive- after the lengthy flight out and all that had happened since, he needed the boost. "Well," he said swallowing, "I suppose I could head up- see if there's a conveniently placed skylight."

"I could join you?" Yvette suggested, glancing up at the big blue doctor. "In case there is a window too small for you?" She smiled briefly, nervously. "After all, I am not so large."

Bobby smiled at his companions. "Should I give you my fake mustache Yvette?" He shrugged. "After all, if you do get in and they see a red girl, the mustache might be the very thing that throws them off the scent." He winked, hoping that he was helping calm the young one's nerves and not adding to them.

"As reassuring as that all sounds," Paige piped in. "Mustaches and all, what could go wrong, how about I take her. She can thank me later."

"Come on, Angel. We’ll go talk to some of the guys down on the pier. Most of them will probably answer some questions in exchange for some cash, and having a non-threatening looking white girl might help." Garrison nodded to Jean. "Have fun with the warehouse. If you run into trouble, give us a yell." He said, before they split up.

***

By the time that Garrison and Angel reached the docks, she had come to the stunning conclusion that most - if not all - of Madripoor stunk. Even when the smells started to go away, they still managed to cling to things and would rise up at the worst possible moment. The docks certainly weren't any different and Angel wondered if one just got used to the smell of brackish water and fish. Managing to not cover her mouth and nose since she didn't want to draw any more attention to herself than she could, Angel followed Garrison as they moved further in.

"Are we looking for anyone in particular?" she asked quietly, stepping around a pile of boxes that were waiting to be loaded onto a nearby truck.

"Anyone who wants to talk. Most of these guys are day labourers. They get tagged for a day's or a week's labour, which means they see a lot and are usually willing to talk for a few bucks." Kane said, heading towards a small group near one of the concrete jetties.

She followed in his footsteps, uncomfortable with some of the looks she was receiving though no one seemed inclined to try anything more than a few leers. Garrison was a walking "Keep away" sign. "Well, hopefully these guys have seen the right kinds of things," Angel commented.
"I'm more interested in what they haven't seen, to be honest." Kane said crypticly, as he approached a man who had the air of a crew boss about him. The man didn't respond to Cantonese, but Kane's slightly rusty Korean was immediately seized on, and he nodded several times as he pocketed the money Kane handed.

"Mister Hwang has been working these docks for a couple of decades, and here on Sublime's turf on and off for the last three years." Kane translated quickly, for Angel's benefit. "There are two kinds of shifts; mixed material days shifts, and heavy freight night shifts. That's odd."

"Why is that odd?" Angel asked. "How is it normally broken up?"

"The heavy freight are those huge shipping containers." Kane said, pointing to the large, rectangular metal boxes that were stacked all over the docks. "You need to move those off by crane, so why not do it when it is light out?" He unleashed another torrent of Korean, and received a knowing smile from the man before he responded.

"He says that they like to keep a special crew in to unload them, and guys like him are only allowed to work on settling the containers - that's stopping any swinging or movement when it is in the air on the crane - and unhooking the crane. In the day, they're used for the whole unloading process."

Angel stared at the large metal containers for a moment. They were obviously unwieldy and using a crane at night had to be difficult. "Oh," she said, fully understanding. The addition of a "special" crew that only worked on those containers meant that someone wanted to make sure strangers didn't see what was going on. "During the day, have they noticed anything weird about the containers?"

Kane translated, and the man shook his head. However, he did rub his fingertips together in an age old expression, and quickly made the additional bills Kane handed him disappear. "He says his cousin was a last minute addition to the night crew when they were short staffed, and when they were guiding one of the crates down, he could hear crying from inside the box. People crying."

"Oh shit." She didn't ask why his cousin hadn't gone to the police - Angel wasn't that naive. "And they probably don't know any names of the people on those night crews, do they?"

"They might, but I'd lay odds they're full employees of Sublime, not just day workers. That's a lot harder to press for information without alerting the company that we're looking in to them." Kane said.

Angel crossed her arms over her chest as she frowned, actively trying to not look at the containers now. "What else could they know that would be helpful?"

"I doubt much. Sublime is involved in human trafficking. That's for certain."

"So," she said quietly, "this is one of those times were we can't go rushing in and bust open some heads, is it? No matter how much we want to. Or, you know, melt the walls to the containers."

"This is one of those times that we get back to the others. Because I don't know how this connects to Logan, and my thought is that we're dealing with something a lot bigger than we thought."

She nodded and focused on Garrison. "Totally agree. Maybe with whatever they find out, we'll be able to see the bigger picture. ...hopefully."

***

The warehouse floor was mostly empty, only a few shipping containers left abandoned after being unloaded. Sticking to the shadows, Yvette took the lead, slipping quietly from container, until a certain smell caught her attention. She stopped, wrinkling her nose - the stench was cloying and acidic, and very, very familiar.

"Husk," she called quietly. "This one."

The shipping container was stained with rust from the exposure to the sea air and occasional waves. It had an impossible-to-decipher Cantonese label on the side, although looking at the dents and the weathered exterior, it looked like it had spent a long time in service. The service doors were securely bolted from the outside, the same as all of the others, but unlike most, it had patchwork venting that had been welded into the body.

At Paige's nod, Yvette hacked through the padlock securing the bolts; beneath the rust it was sturdy steel and she had to saw through with one razor-sharp talon. The padlock fell to the ground with a clatter that seemed far too loud in the empty space, but Yvette hesitated before opening the doors, biting her lip.

"Go time," Paige muttered under her breath and took the lead, gesturing over for Yvette to cover her to the left.

The fetid interior that greeted them was a mixture of dank moisture, stale air, and desperation. Light filtered in from similar vents that had been cut into the top of the container, providing just enough illumination to outline the interior. Like the outside, the interior was similarly weathered, but it was punctuated with strange scratches and stains.

Yvette choked, a noise that was half-gasp and half-sob. "I was lucky," she managed. "When they transported me, I was already in the coma. I did not have... this." Her eye fell on the eyelets bolted to the interior of the container, one with a heavy chain still dangling from it. "Restraints. For those who were trying to escape."

Eyes darting, Paige made a slow, cautious circle around the box, unable to keep her attention to one thing too long. At the far end of the container interior, there was a suspicious dark patch, that stained on the wall and floor. She frowned, looking back at Yvette. Whatever had stained it had been wiped away, or at least sluiced out, but the discoloration remained. It was a mute statement of what may have happened here in the recent past.

Eyes glowing softly, Yvette crept forward, bare feet making small scraping sounds against the metal floor. At the stain, she crouched and bent her face towards it, sniffing. She didn't have Kyle or Laura's enhanced senses, but the heavy, coppery tang of blood was unmistakable, even in that noisome space. The young Albanian jerked back, almost falling over her feet as she backed away. "Blood," she gasped. "Lots of it." Too much, her mind supplied not-so-helpfully, remembering when Laurie was her roommate and she would talk about things like how much blood a human body could stand to lose before death was imminent. "Please," she said. "We have to stop this." She looked wildly around at the remaining containers, picking out at least two others with the tell-tale vents in the sides. "How many people have they already taken? Why?"

"Come on. We've got to get back to the group," Paige said, ushering the younger girl out by her shoulder. Spirals of skin fell to the ground, gunmetal underneath, as she looked back into the room.

***

Hank felt the tumblers click into place almost immediately as the picking device whirred to a stop. He removed it from the lock and put the tool back on his belt, taking out the electronic pick and moving to the keypad beside the door. It was unlikely that anyone was inside the warehouse since the padlock had been sealed from the outside, but the keypad could be hooked up to a network that could have more gangsters at their location in minutes, which was something that the good doctor had already had enough of. Placing the cracker over the keypad he turned it on and looked behind himself at his comrades. "Beautiful night for breaking and entering, wouldn't you agree?" he cracked a wry smile.

Bobby laughed back. "I thought I had the stock market cornered on bad jokes during missions." Everything seemed calm so far, but after the events that had already transpired over the mission, Bobby wasn't taking any chances. Already suited up in his ice form, he stood near the door, moving to point just in case the guns were about to start blazing. Reaching his hands down, he grabbed onto the handle before turning back towards Jean. "Do you sense any surprises in the building?"

Jean gave a passing grin to the two men's bantering before glancing toward the building thoughtfully for a moment or two.

"There are a couple of security guards scattered throughout the building. But I think they're far enough away from each other that they wouldn't be able to get any distress calls out to their employers if knock them out quickly enough," she said. Another smile appeared.

"And since you two seem to be in the mood for mischief I think I'll let you do the honors."

"As you wish, Phoenix," Hank said with a grin as the lock pick dinged, signifying completion of the break-in. "Ah, here we are then." The blue X-Man pushed the door open a crack and stuck a snake camera inside, scanning the interior for cameras. "Not a single visible recording device, which means they don't want a visual record of," he opened the door, putting the camera away, "whatever it is they're doing here."

"It also means they won't have a record of a guy made of ice, and a big blue guy taking them out." He winked at Hank as he shifted his weight to open the door. "So are your ready for this old man?"

Hank shook his head and stepped through the door, going silent and serious as he crossed the threshold. Making his way up into the rafters, Hank was careful not to press his luck on loose boxes. Finally perched on the metal poles he spotted the two guards easily. One was in a room made of plywood without a ceiling playing cards. The other was on the other end of the warehouse speaking loudly on a cellular phone. Hank shook his head and pressed a finger to his ear- speaking in a low murmur. "I have eyes on our security guards, they seem to be distracted and unless there are any booby-traps, we should be able to get by without knocking them out. Take a look around and I'll let you know if they start to move."

Jean nodded. "I can open up a mental link if we want to go for radio silence. Iceman if you'll go right, I'll go left. There should probably be an office around here somewhere."

Bobby shrugged. "Fine by me." He quickly turned to the right through the boxes as soon as they entered the room, but winced slightly as he heard his iced over foot hitting the concrete floor. This form wasn't the greatest for pulling off stealth. Quickly he turned his attention to the ground and began making a small chute, forcing himself to glide under its propulsion through the rows of boxes, keeping his eyes out for some type of office.

Double checking the position of the guards, Hank took out his infrared night-vision monocular and did a quick scan of the building from his vantage point. The office was on the far end of the warehouse, up some stairs and behind a two way mirror. 'Phoenix, are you certain there are just the two guards? I've spotted the office, but can't see inside from this vantage point.'

As far as I know. And one of them has disturbingly dirty thoughts. Why? Jean asked.

'No reason, but since you're practically underneath it right now, perhaps you'd like to check for information within?' Hank turned his attention toward Bobby, 'What are those next to you, Iceman?' A sinking feeling in his gut told him what the boy was about to confirm, the shadowy row of boxes looked much like live animal cages.

I can't tell yet, it's pretty bolted. He looked up, a bad habit of his that he always had when communicating telepathically. You mind helping me with that fancy lock pick of the stars thing ya got?

Hank sighed, not wanting to lose sight of the guards- he patted his utility belt, wondering why more team members didn't wear them. The security detail seemed fairly engaged in their own pursuits, so Hank started off toward the cages, 'En route, Iceman. Jean, keep a mind's eye on the guards if you would.'

Will do, Jean said as she glanced upward, finding the long stairwell Hank mentioned. She quietly made her way up, thankful their costumes weren’t brightly colored as to attract attention.

They’re still currently holding their positions. Not sure for how long, though.

I'm on that much. Turning his chute upwards, Bobby spiraled to a vantage point that he could see around the nearest corners. If anything blue pops into their heads, let me know. He cocked his head downward. It's all yours Beast.

The doctor dropped down, bouncing off a couple of the metal carriers before reaching the concrete floor and pulling out the lock pick, 'You know, I would think your misspent youth would have taught you how to pick locks, Mister Drake.' The electric motor quietly whirred as the lock's tumblers fell into place. 'If all else were to fail, you should be able to just freeze and smash a lock.'

I thought we were going for inconspicuous here. He let out a silent chuckle as he kept eyes on the two guards in the distance. You have a look at what we're dealing with here?

'Unfortunately,' the lock clicked and the door swung open, 'but I wanted a closer look anyway. Hank gestured for Bobby to take point as he put the machine back in his belt.

At the top of the stairs, Jean crouched down to examine the lock after trying the door handle first.

Luckily a lot of traditional lock mechanisms operated under the same set of principles, unless they were particularly fancy. In this case, it was your standard key-use style lock. To get in you needed a key, but on the other side of the door if you were in the office itself and needed to lock someone out all you had to do was turn the latch. It made it easier than having to get your key out every time.

For this part Jean needed a little luck and visualization. She could see two locks: a deadbolt and a door handle lock. Both operated under the latch system so she had to visualize turning the latch with her telekinesis. Staring at the door for a few moments, Jean lifted her head with a smile as she heard a series of clicks as the latches turned to open and the bolts slid away.

Standing, Jean opened the door and stepped inside. She kept the light off in the office as to not draw attention, instead pulling out a flashlight from a bag she carried with her.
I'm in the office. Guards are still distracted and busy. How're we doing?

Hank exchanged a concerned look with Bobby as they took infrared photos of the room they had broken into. It was a fully stocked examine room set up in the middle of the warehouse- surrounded by what appeared to be hosed out animal cages. While it could have explained a poaching operation, with the massive quantities of sedatives and surgical tools, but they were the wrong sort. These drugs and tools were designed for humans, as was the trio of examine tables, complete with restraints, in the center of the room. 'Things are, troubling over here, Jean. Take a look through my eyes for a moment.' Assuming Jean was there, he scanned the room and laid out his case- which was supported by the reputation of an outlaw state that Madripoor owned like a badge of honor. "Iceman, would you please get me a sample from the floor outside the cave on this?" Hank held a small vial out to his younger compatriot.

Jean stopped in her tracks, her flashlight going limp in her hand as she took in the sight.

Her jaw set as she shook her head, letting out a breath.

Dear God...

She lowered her eyes, taking a moment to compose herself. Even if she'd seen many things, there were still days when the freshness of it could take her off guard. When she remembered what truly lay out there in the world.

I'm checking out their files and see what I can find up here. she thought as she made her way to the computer and turned it on.

It never gets easier does it, Hank?

The doctor sighed and made some quick mental notes of who the warehouse owners had purchased their supplies through, going so far as to take an empty box for a sheet of tranquilizer pills out of a trash bin and putting it away to track down where the shipment had originated.

'No, Jean, it doesn't. But we can work to make it a little better every day.'

Or at least try.. Bobby added in. At least we're doing more than these security guards that seem to be wondering around more aimless than Paul Blart.

I don't think they're hired for their smarts. Jean thought with a faint smile after she pulled out a flash stick and stuck it in one of the USB ports. The de-encryption software Doug had crafted booted up and made short work of getting past the password encrypted log in screen and she was already looking through their records.

There's something on here about people making a lot of...acquisitions. The descriptions are deliberately vague so its hard to tell exactly what the acquisitions are but the transactions seem to be from all around the world, not regulated to just Madripoor. I'm making a copy of the records onto the flash drive so we can look at---
Jean turned her head.

Beast, Iceman, heads up. One of the guards is off the phone and headed your way. He doesn't know the door is unlocked yet. He's about 10 yards away and closing fast.
Inside the exam room, Hank vaulted over the exam tables and reached the door they had purposely left ajar upon entry. He could hear the guard whistling as he strolled toward them, the light from his flashlight illuminating his path. The doctor flicked the light switch and softly shut the door, holding onto the handle so that it wouldn't click upon contact. 'Let us know if he sees anything, Phoenix.'

There was a pause in the whistling and the footsteps, as the flashlight beam played over the door. After a double breath of silence, they both started up again, as the guard continued his rounds down the hall.

Give it about 30 seconds, then you're in the clear. Jean thought as she finished copying the files onto the flash stick and pulled it out of the computer, tucking it into a small pocket in her suit.

Hank released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. 'I think we're finished here, shall we rejoin the others?'

I'm ready to figure out what all of this means ASAP. Bobby knew one thing, when there was shady things going on all around, there usually was shady people at the helm.
Jean headed to the door after turning off the computer, crouching down to pick up something her flashlight had caught on the ground: the edge of what appeared to be a burned passport, the hint of the previous country its owner had visited still visible.

We'll figure it out, and then we'll put an end to it. Jean thought as she put the scrap of paper into her bag, then continued on out of the office.

I'll meet you guys out front in five minutes, then we'll go see what the others have come up with.

Mutants, humans, for all the differences there claimed to be on both sides toward the other they were all capable of one thing: atrocity. It was these horrors that made them as one in her eyes.

***

"Uh, guys." Garrison’s voice cut through the comms as he stood on the top of a shipping container, looking out to the east of the docks. "We have a problem. Riots about two blocks from here, and coming our way. Dugan was right. That fight outside of the bar must have touched something off."

Hank pressed a finger to his ear, his mind still fuzzy from processing all the information they'd gathered in the warehouse, "I think that's an excellent idea, Mister Dugan. However, I believe we have another stop to make before returning across the sea, if you don't mind." He sorely wanted to meet the warehouse's owners to ask them what their very elaborate facility was in place for- with his claws if necessary.