Sanguinicity - A Not So Private Way Out
Apr. 9th, 2011 09:36 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsThe various teams make their way to escape routes, only to find them blocked.
The Schmidt’s visit and the message from SYN had made one thing abundantly clear; their mission was completely compromised. Doug’s datatap had gone offline at the bank only moments after SYN’s message, and while both teams were out of the bank, they were vulnerable on the street and being tracked. Packing up the room took a matter of minutes, removing any traces of their presence that could lead back to them. Originally, the plan was to meet at the airport and take Emma’s private plane back to the States, but with the abort signaled, everyone else was now on to their alternate escape routes. Even they had a backup in case the plane was unavailable.
As their car reached the Kloten Airport, the last of the potentially incriminating data had been scrubbed from their computers and equipment, removing any hard evidence of their attempted bank coup.
Marie-Ange hated driving. But at least Farouk was doing... whatever Farouk did... and keeping the police away, and most of the rest of every other car on the road. She wasn't sure what the other cars were seeing, instead of them, but whatever it was, it was effective. "You are not melting that laptop?" She asked, the terse tone making sound less like a question than it was.
"The data's scrubbed," Doug replied. His first response after SYN's message and giving the abort had been to purge the hard drive. "Mark and I set up a multi-tiered system for all the computers," he explained. "First tier, data purge, which is what I did. Keeping it intact for the moment in case we need it for anything on the way out. Otherwise I'll hit the second tier and melt the disk." A skilled hacker, even without Doug's power set, could retrieve the bits and bytes of data on an intact hard disk, even after a scrubbing as thorough as the one Doug had put it through. The only sure way to prevent such a thing was to either degauss the disk or physically destroy it.
"This would be a great conversation to have after take-off, don't you think?" Farouk said caustically as he hauled himself from his seat and on to the pavement. He'd been in situations like this before, where the difference between a jail cell and freedom was ten minutes on the runway, and he'd learned to respect the value of time in a getaway.
"If you can get us to the plane faster, Farouk, then do so, but personally I'd be inclined to evaluate the situation first," said Emma calmly as she stepped out of the car. "Because I don't remember having this many employees at this airfield. Nor my aeroplanes requiring that many ground checks."
Parking the car was more like just leaving it there, Marie-Ange didn't even bother attempting to be tidy about it, and she ignored Farouk as he pulled himself out of the car. She was too busy watching the airport employees, who seemed too numerous for a private airport and corporate jet. "I.. do not have a good feeling about this at all." she said quietly.
Doug's eyes narrowed, taking in the scene before them. His head flicked rapidly left and right, checking sight lines, measuring angles, counting bodies. The seemingly random movement of ground employees was anything but. "They're covering the plane," he muttered. "They look everywhere but actually -at- the plane, at least two or three covering every approach. And the body language is all wrong. There, there, and there," he said, indicating three men without actually pointing at them. "Watch the way their eyes flick down every few seconds. They'll have machine guns hidden in easy reach." Left unsaid was that, if that was the case, that every other man on the tarmac was certainly carrying a pistol at minimum.
It was going to be one of those kind of days, it seemed. There was a solution, but making the eyes of a dozen men bleed would draw unnecessary attention, and Farouk could feel the massive headache coming on from the company. There were other, subtle methods they could use to get clear, but that meant abandoning the rest of their team. Farouk was honestly curious whether or not they'd be willing to do so - the downside to friends for operatives.
"I can't take all of them at once," said Emma, her voice never wavering from its cool, calm tone. "There's some interesting shielding effects they've got going. Even if I could risk the notoriety of having an airfield of people collapse at my feet in something other than sheer adoration, I don't think I could get past all of the shields at once. And once one was down, the rest would undoubtedly feel free to fire." She glanced behind her and shrugged. "If there's not more coming, they're not doing it right. Comments, questions, suggestions for how to get out of here, people?"
"Human shields." It was cold calculus, but being cold came easier to Doug these days than it used to. "This is the departure point for some very influential people," like Emma, which was why they were there. "Politicians, celebrities...people that couldn't be risked in a firefight. Too high profile. Too much...room for error."
"Two of them, as high profile and visible as can be found." Marie-Ange suggested. "One being killed could be explained, two is more difficult. Preferably without melting their brains or turning them into vegetables afterward." She gave Farouk a significant look. "Emma, is there anyone that it would not look too suspicious if they came to you, perhaps to make it look like a business meeting?"
"Of course she can. And since I have no intention of dying here-" Farouk's eye twitched for a moment; a weak flutter in his sallow face and he nodded. "Security now has an unbelievable urge to search the bags of the plane next to Frost's, and- ah, here is General Leduque from NATO coming up to greet his old friend and escourt us through the security area."
True to his word, an man in an impressive blue uniform greeted Farouk with a warm welcome, kissing him on both cheeks and speaking rapid fire French while his staff milled around him.
NATO General and an... impressive... amount of staff. They were surrounded by men in uniform and without telepathy, Marie-Ange could still almost feel the frustration coming off the men covering the plane. "Sir, I know how much you hate being interrupted, and I am terribly sorry to hound you so but the plane is idling, and we are already behind schedule." Marie-Ange stepped up, just at Farouk's elbow and handed him what looked astoundingly -just- like the General's personal assistant's digital memopad. "Perhaps you and the General can continue your discussion while we walk?"
Doug pulled out his smartphone and tapped at it, looking for all the world like another self-important functionary in the herd. ~Jake's team has checked in, they're using their alternate route, out the viaducts,~ he sent to the group through the link Emma had created. He tapped again as a second message arrived. ~And it looks like Remy's
agreed to use la Contessa Fontaine for his exit.~
Marie-Ange accepted the imaged memopad back from Farouk with a distant nod. ~We should be safe to the plane.~ She sent, as she tucked the pad into her bag, and dissolved the image. "As long as we do not encounter any more delays, we should make your speaking conference in time, Doctor." she said. "We should even have a few minutes for you to enjoy drinks on the plane with the General, if you would like." That would get them all the way onto the plane, with cover.
The escape turns into disaster as X-Force discovers just how thoroughly they have been set-up.
Jogging through the streets made them feel all too vulnerable. When the van had gone up in flames, Remy had pushed them down a side street, and they raced for their alternate escape route. Remy’s insistence on at least two alternate escape routes was occasionally joked about as paranoia, but it was exactly for situations like this. As they reached the building that held the new identification and the safe car for a cross border escape, Remy paused them, scrutinizing whether or not they’d been followed. After a moment, he nodded. There wasn't a physical tail.
But something still didn't feel right.
Remy waved over Jubilee, pointing to the third floor window that led into the apartment. Jubilee, Amanda and Wanda are going to delay in de lobby for a moment, checking de mail or something. I want you to get up to dat window, silently, and check out de apartment make sure dat its empty.
Jubilee pulled out a set of black gloves, the fingertips and palms covered in a fine mesh-like substance as she moved toward the building, her eyes taking in obstacles, possible choke points and rest spots she might use to her advantage.
She reached out and pushed her fingers against the building wall before pulling slightly down to connect herself properly, the mesh on the gloves a new material based around a gecko's feet. Her own feet did not have the same material gracing them but she'd be able to pull herself up to a point where she could use them eventually.
Itwas the work of seconds to get started, and she pulled herself up the building one quickly placed hand at a time, her movements similar to the creature whose abilities her gloves were designed around.
"And now we act as if we belong here," Wanda commented, firmly not even glancing up to where Jubilee was scampering up to the third floor. She moved like she was supposed to be there, firm confident steps, just a woman who had been out late for a business meeting or a private meeting with someone. With Remy watching their backs, it was easy enough not to look around as if someone was following them - he'd warn them if he could.
Like most of the apartment buildings in the area, this one did have an electronic key card entrance. Reaching into her pocket, Wanda pulled out blank piece of paper and "swiped" it in front of the machine. A little bit of chaos and a moment later the light went from red to green.
Beside Wanda, Amanda matched her stride, playing the role of assistant as easily as breathing. "~Good evening. Any messages for apartment three-oh-six?~" she asked in German of the desk clerk, giving the girl a cheerful smile that belied the exhaustion she felt from their work tonight. As the desk clerk finished checking their mail slot and shook her head and wished them a good night, Amanda glanced at Wanda, giving her just a hint of a raised eyebrow. Hopefully Jubilee would have had the time she needed.
Outside, Remy bit back a curse as Jubilee gestured to him, and began to make her way back down the building. Not only were they compromised, but both their primary and secondary escape routes were out of commission. He reached into his pocket for his phone, and stepped off to the side to have a quiet conversation with Emma's team. It was clear that they weren't going to make the plane, and Remy wanted them in the air as soon as possible.
He paused as they related him a third escape option, weighing it up in his head. La Countessa as a way out? It made some sense - she was outside of the operation and the team, and had both money and connections. Could they trust her, and more importantly, did they have a choice? Remy shook his head. No, there wasn't a choice.
The brief text message from Remy – PARTY CRASHED - was enough to warn both Amanda and Wanda that going up to the apartment wasn't an option. Walking back out the front door wasn't either - if they were being watched, it would be a clear sign they knew about the impending ambush. With only an exchanged look, both women headed for the gym complex on the ground floor - and the service entrance nearby.
"Nothing like a bit of exercise in the middle of the night, eh Wanda?" Amanda murmured to her 'boss' as they skirted the silent gym. Silent except for a very focused looking woman on the treadmill, at least.
"Better than a jog through bits of Africa, I'll grant you," she said, sounding tired as they headed towards the back entrance to the gym. To anyone else, it was a strange saying but it had more impact for Amanda. Wanda was starting to worry if this was turning into one of those missions - she still had dreams of the plane crashing, even after all that time had passed.
The door opened easily and the two women found themselves in the in-door pool area for the gym members - unlike the other room, however, this was completely deserted. And there was a door at the far side that looked like it would let them pop outside finally.
"Remind me to eat waaaay more beforehand the next time we do this," Jubilee noted to Remy as she finally made it to the ground, pulling out an energy bar from a concealed pocket in her trench coat and taking a big bite. She had yet to use her abilities, but she'd been moving since early morning and hadn't had a chance to actively eat anything resembling a reasonable meal. At her body mass, any missed meal meant a possible slip into exhaustion later on. It was why she carried so many 'snacks' hidden in various places upon her person.
"Dat might not be an issue soon enough." Remy said, dialing the phone. He paused off to one side as it was answered, and to the casual listener, his conversation was just disjointed phrases - "Where?", "12 minutes." and "Grey van." He stashed the phone and started moving, letting Jubilee fall in behind him as he reached the others.
"De others are at de airport and getting out. Dey contacted La Countessa and she's got a utility van and a driver arranged for us in a parking garage about two miles from here. He'll get us out of de city, and after dat, we're on our own crossing de border." It wasn't perfect, but it was simple and timely; two qualities that normally led to a successful plan. "Let's move."
"Bollocks," Amanda muttered as she and Wanda exited the service door only to find themselves picking up the pace again - she was definitely cutting back on the ciggies once this was over, if only to increase her overall stamina. "At least the rest are clear. We got a back-up to the back-up plan?"
"Would that be the back-up, back-up, back-up plan with a side of up?" Jubilee asked, winking at her friend as she continued to follow along behind Remy. While she had much shorter legs then the Cajun, she made up for it by dropping into a sort of jog. "Or could I interest you in a hurried dash across the border while pretending to be used car insurance salesman? Of course, if you'd rather go for actual plans, you're probably shit out of luck."
"So, our usual, then?" came the wry retort, even as they were all scanning the streets for signs of pursuit, ambush or just any kind of undue attention. The skin between Amanda's shoulders crawled, half expecting a bullet any moment and she increased her pace, her own lack of height meaning she was half-jogging already. "The sooner we're out of here, the better."
Wanda didn't respond, just lengthened her stride. She wasn't going to let Amanda or Jubilee drop behind but they'd change their own speed to match hers and Remy's, even if it meant running. Two miles never seemed so long as they quickly, but cautiously, kept to the shadows. The parking garage was a squat, five story structure, as esthetically pleasing as a punch in the nose and old of place after miles of hundred year old homes and offices. A quick glance revealed nothing out of the ordinary - but they only had time for a cursory look. It was a bad situation, and smacked of desperation. But it was also the only play they had left.
"Keep your eyes open. Dere's every chance dat dey know 'bout Fontaine as well, and have been tracking her." In which case, they were well and truly fucked.
"So, what's the bet this van's waiting for us at the top?" Amanda asked rhetorically as they slipped into the parking garage. It was always the way when you were tired - there was always more to do.
"Anything else would have been easy," Wanda sighed, resting a gloved hand one a rounded column as they moved past it. She was half-distracted as they moved, slipping around corners and keeping out of sight of the video cameras that watched from the corners. Every few feet had her checking the lines, constant paranoia fueling the flashes of red that she hid around her wrists. Her powers might have been difficult to figure out at times but they were a gift and one that would allow her to - she almost froze at the sudden shifting of lines that crowded to their left but she kept going because stopping meant letting on that she knew.
Her powers had just given then two or three seconds of warning as she hissed "Company!" to the others.
The Contessa emerged from the shadows, as if they belonged to her, her face as unreadable, almost bored, as usual, making loud enough footsteps to be noticed by the group. She motioned them in the direction of the van nearby.
"This way!"
She had wanted to be hands on. This was pretty much as hands on as one could get.
Remy nodded, taking several steps forward before stopping suddenly. He held the others with a hand and concentrated. His spatial awareness was screaming, and with a viper quick move, an energized card flashed through the dim lot and contacted with an unseen assailant with a scream.
"It's a trap!" Remy yelled, and pointed towards the ramp up. "Go, towards de top!" A brace of cards forced men to scramble for cover as they began to pour out of their hiding spots, and Remy took a brief second to lock eyes with Fontaine. The malice in his red on black eyes promised one thing; one day, he'd be back for her.
Valentina returned Remy's look with a cold, venomous smile worthy of making even a cobra shudder as she slammed the trap down, cutting the group off from their exit. She watched as they scrambled like rats in a maze.
Bullets whined past them as they hit the slope up to the next level. If they could reach the top, they could possibly make it over to the next building, or barring that, at least establish a temporary defensive line at the top of the ramp while looking for another way out. It wasn't much, but it was the only chance they had. A card dropped a sniper from his perch, as the Cajun made the turn.
"Slow dem down! We need some breathing room!"
"Bloodyfuckingbastardcunt!" Amanda's swearing was cut off by the sound of gunfire and she instinctively hunched her shoulders and put her head down. She didn't have a lot of distance spells, but she did have teammates and she could try to erect a mobile barrier as cover for them. The shielding spell was thin, stretched to its limit as she cast it in front of them, and the witch knew she wouldn't be able to hold it if they encountered anything more than gunfire.
"Jubes! Big badda boom time!"
"Big badda boom, comin' right up," Jubilee replied, forming balls of plasma in her hands and tossing them behind her as they ran up the slope, detonating them in series so that each explosion fed off the next. All in all, it would make it impossible for them to be taken from behind, at least for a moment, hopefully enough for them to get to a more defensible position, or at best scenario, the hell away from here. It wouldn't stop bullets in front of them though, for that Jubilee hoped Amanda's shield and the others abilities would do.
Keeping her head down as much as possible, Wanda was flat out running - both to get in front of Jubilee and to get away from the men with the guns. As she turned the corner, red light flashed dark around her wrists and there was a resulting scream from her left. Two men staggered away from her and then slumped to the ground, victims of "friendly fire".
She paused and turned around as an idea suddenly came to her. Ignoring everything around for a precious few seconds, she reached out and gathered handfuls of string to herself. Threads slipped in and out of her mind as she pulled more and more of them in, keeping a sharp eye on where her team was. She needed them past a certain point before she could left everything go ...
Remy turned the corner sharply at the top of the ramp, heading up the last one to the top of the parking garage. But a few steps up, he pulled up short at the barricade of black SUVs parked blocking the top of the ramp and the cluster of black clad armed men. Two figures in white stood in the middle of the ground. He recognized them from the mission files - Andrea and Andreas Schmidt, the children of the bank owner. The woman raised her arm almost negligently, and Remy had to flatten himself as a bio-blast arc from her hand and missed him by inches, ripping up a chuck of the concrete behind him. He flung himself back off the ramp and stopped the rest of his team making the turn.
"Dey got us blocked in!" Remy said, and pointed towards the opposite side of the open-tiered parking garage. "Dat way!"
Another bio-blast caught Amanda's shield and she staggered, nearly going to her knees as the magical barrier crumbled. The bullets that had been bouncing harmlessly off the spell now whined around them and as Amanda regained her balance and began running in the direction Remy had pointed, one tore through the outside part of her left thigh. Blood bloomed through the fabric of her jeans as she fell with a strangled cry.
"Son of a bitch!" Wanda gasped and mentally threw the gathered chaos energy at one time. Immediately, the cars surrounding the armed men went insane - horns blaring, lights flashing and alarms adding confusion and startling several of them as X-Force tried their best to stay alive.
Turning on her heel, Wanda honed in on Amanda and grabbed her around the waist even as she aimed a hex blast towards the two at the top. It missed, barely, but ate through the car behind them and continued on through the chest of one of their bodyguards on contact, dropping him in a splay of gore.
Jubilee could feel an almost impossible urge to laugh welling up inside her, of all the places she'd thought she might bite it, this had not been one of them. She gathered plasma balls and moved to twirl about her body, melting bullets as they whined close. It was only a matter of time though before one got through the circle of plasma, she didn't have Remy's mutant senses to help her, nor did she have an unlimited supply of energy.
"Merde." Remy's mind kept turning over the tactical situation and coming up empty. Between the gunmen under Fontaine coming up from below and the Schmidt's cutting off their escape above, the battle was turning into just a matter of time before they were overwhelmed. Amanda's injury was only the start.
Remy looked at the open sides of the building and to Wanda. Her chaos powers had a lot of applications - could they possibly wrench the odds of a four story fall? Remy pushed Jubilee towards Wanda and Amanda. "Get to de side of de garage. 'manda, dere were cars in de street. Port down and swipe one. Remy buy you some time."
Before they could argue, Remy turned and - in the minds of their attackers - improbably charged the men after them. His staff snapped up in a humming arc, and his first blow virtually decapitated the nearest gunman. His cards danced in the shadows, exploding randomly, not meant to take men out, but to check their charge; force them back long enough to buy some breathing room for the others.
Amanda had never been shot before and it was an experience she wasn't enjoying. Trying to think through the pain, she focussed on Remy's words. 'Port. Car. Clutching at the wound, she gulped and nodded once before letting herself sink into Zurich and down to the street below. Zurich didn't appreciate blood, apparently - the city spat her back out abruptly enough that if she hadn't been able to collapse against the side of a parked car, she would have fallen into the street.
"The feeling's mutual," she muttered, pulling herself together enough to find a car she could hotwire.
The moment Amanda had started to sink into the ground, Wanda had released her grip and started for the side of the parking garage that Remy had indicated. On her way there, however, she reached out and snagged a handful of Jubilee's jacket and urged the younger woman onward. Even though she might be used to throwing herself out of buildings, Wanda wasn't and she was going to need Jubilee as close to her as possible if they were both going to survive the jump in one piece.
One relative piece, anyway, Wanda thought as the two women jumped and perched on top of the cement wall that protected the cars from rolling out. A quick glance showed her that the Swiss had planted a tree not far from where they were but it was still far enough away to be trouble. Far enough away for them to miss and hit the ground.
Jubilee had allowed herself to be pulled along, not quite sure what else to do when Remy had just thrown himself into a suicidal delay action. She hesitated at the jump, wanting to go back and get him but unwilling to disobey an order when it might mean what he'd just done was for nothing. She turned her gaze helplessly to Wanda, needing someone to tell her what to do.
"Go!" Wanda barked, as she jumped herself, timing the manipulation of chaos as closely as she could to their jump. She wasn't Jennie, she couldn't just give them the good luck to make it. But she could stack it in their favor - so that Wanda hit the branch that should have been cut the other week but had been forgotten and not, say, the pavement instead.
As they picked themselves up, a car came tearing towards them, horn blaring, before coming to an abrupt stop. The car was a beaten-up looking Volswagon, canary yellow - not the most subtle of get away vehicles but the only one Amanda had been able to hotwire, given the tendency for modern vehicles to have computerised central locking and the witch being low on power - and Amanda was resting her head against the steering wheel, taking several deep breaths. The brief jaunt through Zurich had been enough to stop the bulk of the bleeding, but the wound was still oozing and using the brake was sending shooting pain up through her leg and into her back. When she was able, she lifted her head. "Get in!" she called, then realized they were one short. "Where's Remy?"
The gunman's occipital bone gave way with a crack, as the whirling staff caved in his temple, killing him instantly. A purple glowing coin spun from out-stretched fingers, catching another under the eye and tearing away his face. Remy grunted with pain as another bullet grazed him; the volume of fire too much to avoid it all. He rolled over the rear of a car, using his momentum to reach a moment of safety behind it. His attacked arrayed out in a semi-circle, urged on by the twins to take the car. But as they got closer, a double handful of charged gravel was flung up from the other side. Ordinarily just a distraction, the gravel instead stuck with the force of a fist and as it battered them, LeBeau came over the car at them like an avenging angel, killing as easily as breathing.
"He's not coming," Jubilee muttered, throat catching as the words made it real. She opened the back door and threw herself into the car without another word, huddling against the back seat as she felt about in her coat for another power bar.
This was one of the worst case scenarios they all knew existed but never wanted to talk about. Wanda clenched the top of the passenger door so tightly that her knuckles were white as she stared at the garage as if she could see through the building itself. Every part of her was screaming to go back in there, all guns blazing and extract him. But Amanda was injured in a city that wasn't really one of hers and if they went back in there, she couldn't guarantee that Jubilee or herself would remain uninjured.
Remy ...
"He's doing this to buy us time to get away," she said, wrenching the door open and throwing herself in. "He will not thank us if we wind up with a bullet in our heads for his trouble. Go."
Despite years of saying the hard things, despite knowing that Remy could get himself out of any situation better than they could get him out of it - the words hurt to say.
They hurt to hear, too, and for a moment, everything in Amanda rebelled at the thought of leaving Remy behind. But he'd trained her better than that. Him and Pete both. With a terse nod, she shoved the car into gear and planted her foot on the accelerator, tearing away with a stench of burning rubber. Already sirens were beginning to approach, and they had to be out of the area before the cordons were set up.
The killing ground grew slippery with blood. Men lay ruined in scattered groups, as if some force had simply willed them dead where they stood. Broken bodies lay atop cars and pushed through windshields. But, for all of the death, the outcome was never really in doubt. A kick crushed the windpipe of a knife wielding man, but it also robbed Remy of just enough momentum that when Andrea Schmidt raised her hand, there was no way for even his preternatural agility to carry him clear of the bio-blast. It struck him like a truck impact to the chest, flinging him back like a ragdoll, where he glanced off of a concrete pylon with a wet crunch and tumbled end over end down over the floor. He felt the bones in his shoulder crack, ribs snap and dark spots swam in his vision as he twitched on the concrete, trying to will his legs back under him; to keep moving, keep fighting. Andreas expensive leather shoe planted directly between his shoulder blades, and forced him down on the ground as darts of pain shot through his back.
"Hurensohn." He said quietly, looking back at the collateral damage. "Expensive bill for just one captive, sister."
"Well, then, brother," his sister replied, "we had better make sure that we ring as much worth out of his miserable hide as we can." She pouted at him as she walked up to rest her head on his shoulder for a moment. "I want to play with him first - these shoes are ruined." With that, she took a step back and kicked Remy square in the side of the head.
The Contessa strode past the brother and sister, ignoring their overly gregarious affection toward one another save for the curl of nose.
"Enough. We're running out of time. The police will be here soon. Play with him later," she said as crouched down and pulled Remy up by his hair so he would meet her eyes like a hunter examining their game.
"Get him into the van," she told the men that were left, the poisonous smile returning to her lips before she let his head drop. She pulled out a handkerchief, cleaning the blood she had gotten from him off her hands as she walked past.
Remy only dully registered the men roughly hauling him up and dragging him to the van. Even the jarring pain from being tossed on to the floor of the van barely reached him. He'd been captured and the only satisfaction that he could muster was that the others must have gotten free and the only thing they'd get out of him would be a corpse if he could help it. That last thought almost made him smile as the blackness reached up and took him.
The Schmidt’s visit and the message from SYN had made one thing abundantly clear; their mission was completely compromised. Doug’s datatap had gone offline at the bank only moments after SYN’s message, and while both teams were out of the bank, they were vulnerable on the street and being tracked. Packing up the room took a matter of minutes, removing any traces of their presence that could lead back to them. Originally, the plan was to meet at the airport and take Emma’s private plane back to the States, but with the abort signaled, everyone else was now on to their alternate escape routes. Even they had a backup in case the plane was unavailable.
As their car reached the Kloten Airport, the last of the potentially incriminating data had been scrubbed from their computers and equipment, removing any hard evidence of their attempted bank coup.
Marie-Ange hated driving. But at least Farouk was doing... whatever Farouk did... and keeping the police away, and most of the rest of every other car on the road. She wasn't sure what the other cars were seeing, instead of them, but whatever it was, it was effective. "You are not melting that laptop?" She asked, the terse tone making sound less like a question than it was.
"The data's scrubbed," Doug replied. His first response after SYN's message and giving the abort had been to purge the hard drive. "Mark and I set up a multi-tiered system for all the computers," he explained. "First tier, data purge, which is what I did. Keeping it intact for the moment in case we need it for anything on the way out. Otherwise I'll hit the second tier and melt the disk." A skilled hacker, even without Doug's power set, could retrieve the bits and bytes of data on an intact hard disk, even after a scrubbing as thorough as the one Doug had put it through. The only sure way to prevent such a thing was to either degauss the disk or physically destroy it.
"This would be a great conversation to have after take-off, don't you think?" Farouk said caustically as he hauled himself from his seat and on to the pavement. He'd been in situations like this before, where the difference between a jail cell and freedom was ten minutes on the runway, and he'd learned to respect the value of time in a getaway.
"If you can get us to the plane faster, Farouk, then do so, but personally I'd be inclined to evaluate the situation first," said Emma calmly as she stepped out of the car. "Because I don't remember having this many employees at this airfield. Nor my aeroplanes requiring that many ground checks."
Parking the car was more like just leaving it there, Marie-Ange didn't even bother attempting to be tidy about it, and she ignored Farouk as he pulled himself out of the car. She was too busy watching the airport employees, who seemed too numerous for a private airport and corporate jet. "I.. do not have a good feeling about this at all." she said quietly.
Doug's eyes narrowed, taking in the scene before them. His head flicked rapidly left and right, checking sight lines, measuring angles, counting bodies. The seemingly random movement of ground employees was anything but. "They're covering the plane," he muttered. "They look everywhere but actually -at- the plane, at least two or three covering every approach. And the body language is all wrong. There, there, and there," he said, indicating three men without actually pointing at them. "Watch the way their eyes flick down every few seconds. They'll have machine guns hidden in easy reach." Left unsaid was that, if that was the case, that every other man on the tarmac was certainly carrying a pistol at minimum.
It was going to be one of those kind of days, it seemed. There was a solution, but making the eyes of a dozen men bleed would draw unnecessary attention, and Farouk could feel the massive headache coming on from the company. There were other, subtle methods they could use to get clear, but that meant abandoning the rest of their team. Farouk was honestly curious whether or not they'd be willing to do so - the downside to friends for operatives.
"I can't take all of them at once," said Emma, her voice never wavering from its cool, calm tone. "There's some interesting shielding effects they've got going. Even if I could risk the notoriety of having an airfield of people collapse at my feet in something other than sheer adoration, I don't think I could get past all of the shields at once. And once one was down, the rest would undoubtedly feel free to fire." She glanced behind her and shrugged. "If there's not more coming, they're not doing it right. Comments, questions, suggestions for how to get out of here, people?"
"Human shields." It was cold calculus, but being cold came easier to Doug these days than it used to. "This is the departure point for some very influential people," like Emma, which was why they were there. "Politicians, celebrities...people that couldn't be risked in a firefight. Too high profile. Too much...room for error."
"Two of them, as high profile and visible as can be found." Marie-Ange suggested. "One being killed could be explained, two is more difficult. Preferably without melting their brains or turning them into vegetables afterward." She gave Farouk a significant look. "Emma, is there anyone that it would not look too suspicious if they came to you, perhaps to make it look like a business meeting?"
"Of course she can. And since I have no intention of dying here-" Farouk's eye twitched for a moment; a weak flutter in his sallow face and he nodded. "Security now has an unbelievable urge to search the bags of the plane next to Frost's, and- ah, here is General Leduque from NATO coming up to greet his old friend and escourt us through the security area."
True to his word, an man in an impressive blue uniform greeted Farouk with a warm welcome, kissing him on both cheeks and speaking rapid fire French while his staff milled around him.
NATO General and an... impressive... amount of staff. They were surrounded by men in uniform and without telepathy, Marie-Ange could still almost feel the frustration coming off the men covering the plane. "Sir, I know how much you hate being interrupted, and I am terribly sorry to hound you so but the plane is idling, and we are already behind schedule." Marie-Ange stepped up, just at Farouk's elbow and handed him what looked astoundingly -just- like the General's personal assistant's digital memopad. "Perhaps you and the General can continue your discussion while we walk?"
Doug pulled out his smartphone and tapped at it, looking for all the world like another self-important functionary in the herd. ~Jake's team has checked in, they're using their alternate route, out the viaducts,~ he sent to the group through the link Emma had created. He tapped again as a second message arrived. ~And it looks like Remy's
agreed to use la Contessa Fontaine for his exit.~
Marie-Ange accepted the imaged memopad back from Farouk with a distant nod. ~We should be safe to the plane.~ She sent, as she tucked the pad into her bag, and dissolved the image. "As long as we do not encounter any more delays, we should make your speaking conference in time, Doctor." she said. "We should even have a few minutes for you to enjoy drinks on the plane with the General, if you would like." That would get them all the way onto the plane, with cover.
The escape turns into disaster as X-Force discovers just how thoroughly they have been set-up.
Jogging through the streets made them feel all too vulnerable. When the van had gone up in flames, Remy had pushed them down a side street, and they raced for their alternate escape route. Remy’s insistence on at least two alternate escape routes was occasionally joked about as paranoia, but it was exactly for situations like this. As they reached the building that held the new identification and the safe car for a cross border escape, Remy paused them, scrutinizing whether or not they’d been followed. After a moment, he nodded. There wasn't a physical tail.
But something still didn't feel right.
Remy waved over Jubilee, pointing to the third floor window that led into the apartment. Jubilee, Amanda and Wanda are going to delay in de lobby for a moment, checking de mail or something. I want you to get up to dat window, silently, and check out de apartment make sure dat its empty.
Jubilee pulled out a set of black gloves, the fingertips and palms covered in a fine mesh-like substance as she moved toward the building, her eyes taking in obstacles, possible choke points and rest spots she might use to her advantage.
She reached out and pushed her fingers against the building wall before pulling slightly down to connect herself properly, the mesh on the gloves a new material based around a gecko's feet. Her own feet did not have the same material gracing them but she'd be able to pull herself up to a point where she could use them eventually.
Itwas the work of seconds to get started, and she pulled herself up the building one quickly placed hand at a time, her movements similar to the creature whose abilities her gloves were designed around.
"And now we act as if we belong here," Wanda commented, firmly not even glancing up to where Jubilee was scampering up to the third floor. She moved like she was supposed to be there, firm confident steps, just a woman who had been out late for a business meeting or a private meeting with someone. With Remy watching their backs, it was easy enough not to look around as if someone was following them - he'd warn them if he could.
Like most of the apartment buildings in the area, this one did have an electronic key card entrance. Reaching into her pocket, Wanda pulled out blank piece of paper and "swiped" it in front of the machine. A little bit of chaos and a moment later the light went from red to green.
Beside Wanda, Amanda matched her stride, playing the role of assistant as easily as breathing. "~Good evening. Any messages for apartment three-oh-six?~" she asked in German of the desk clerk, giving the girl a cheerful smile that belied the exhaustion she felt from their work tonight. As the desk clerk finished checking their mail slot and shook her head and wished them a good night, Amanda glanced at Wanda, giving her just a hint of a raised eyebrow. Hopefully Jubilee would have had the time she needed.
Outside, Remy bit back a curse as Jubilee gestured to him, and began to make her way back down the building. Not only were they compromised, but both their primary and secondary escape routes were out of commission. He reached into his pocket for his phone, and stepped off to the side to have a quiet conversation with Emma's team. It was clear that they weren't going to make the plane, and Remy wanted them in the air as soon as possible.
He paused as they related him a third escape option, weighing it up in his head. La Countessa as a way out? It made some sense - she was outside of the operation and the team, and had both money and connections. Could they trust her, and more importantly, did they have a choice? Remy shook his head. No, there wasn't a choice.
The brief text message from Remy – PARTY CRASHED - was enough to warn both Amanda and Wanda that going up to the apartment wasn't an option. Walking back out the front door wasn't either - if they were being watched, it would be a clear sign they knew about the impending ambush. With only an exchanged look, both women headed for the gym complex on the ground floor - and the service entrance nearby.
"Nothing like a bit of exercise in the middle of the night, eh Wanda?" Amanda murmured to her 'boss' as they skirted the silent gym. Silent except for a very focused looking woman on the treadmill, at least.
"Better than a jog through bits of Africa, I'll grant you," she said, sounding tired as they headed towards the back entrance to the gym. To anyone else, it was a strange saying but it had more impact for Amanda. Wanda was starting to worry if this was turning into one of those missions - she still had dreams of the plane crashing, even after all that time had passed.
The door opened easily and the two women found themselves in the in-door pool area for the gym members - unlike the other room, however, this was completely deserted. And there was a door at the far side that looked like it would let them pop outside finally.
"Remind me to eat waaaay more beforehand the next time we do this," Jubilee noted to Remy as she finally made it to the ground, pulling out an energy bar from a concealed pocket in her trench coat and taking a big bite. She had yet to use her abilities, but she'd been moving since early morning and hadn't had a chance to actively eat anything resembling a reasonable meal. At her body mass, any missed meal meant a possible slip into exhaustion later on. It was why she carried so many 'snacks' hidden in various places upon her person.
"Dat might not be an issue soon enough." Remy said, dialing the phone. He paused off to one side as it was answered, and to the casual listener, his conversation was just disjointed phrases - "Where?", "12 minutes." and "Grey van." He stashed the phone and started moving, letting Jubilee fall in behind him as he reached the others.
"De others are at de airport and getting out. Dey contacted La Countessa and she's got a utility van and a driver arranged for us in a parking garage about two miles from here. He'll get us out of de city, and after dat, we're on our own crossing de border." It wasn't perfect, but it was simple and timely; two qualities that normally led to a successful plan. "Let's move."
"Bollocks," Amanda muttered as she and Wanda exited the service door only to find themselves picking up the pace again - she was definitely cutting back on the ciggies once this was over, if only to increase her overall stamina. "At least the rest are clear. We got a back-up to the back-up plan?"
"Would that be the back-up, back-up, back-up plan with a side of up?" Jubilee asked, winking at her friend as she continued to follow along behind Remy. While she had much shorter legs then the Cajun, she made up for it by dropping into a sort of jog. "Or could I interest you in a hurried dash across the border while pretending to be used car insurance salesman? Of course, if you'd rather go for actual plans, you're probably shit out of luck."
"So, our usual, then?" came the wry retort, even as they were all scanning the streets for signs of pursuit, ambush or just any kind of undue attention. The skin between Amanda's shoulders crawled, half expecting a bullet any moment and she increased her pace, her own lack of height meaning she was half-jogging already. "The sooner we're out of here, the better."
Wanda didn't respond, just lengthened her stride. She wasn't going to let Amanda or Jubilee drop behind but they'd change their own speed to match hers and Remy's, even if it meant running. Two miles never seemed so long as they quickly, but cautiously, kept to the shadows. The parking garage was a squat, five story structure, as esthetically pleasing as a punch in the nose and old of place after miles of hundred year old homes and offices. A quick glance revealed nothing out of the ordinary - but they only had time for a cursory look. It was a bad situation, and smacked of desperation. But it was also the only play they had left.
"Keep your eyes open. Dere's every chance dat dey know 'bout Fontaine as well, and have been tracking her." In which case, they were well and truly fucked.
"So, what's the bet this van's waiting for us at the top?" Amanda asked rhetorically as they slipped into the parking garage. It was always the way when you were tired - there was always more to do.
"Anything else would have been easy," Wanda sighed, resting a gloved hand one a rounded column as they moved past it. She was half-distracted as they moved, slipping around corners and keeping out of sight of the video cameras that watched from the corners. Every few feet had her checking the lines, constant paranoia fueling the flashes of red that she hid around her wrists. Her powers might have been difficult to figure out at times but they were a gift and one that would allow her to - she almost froze at the sudden shifting of lines that crowded to their left but she kept going because stopping meant letting on that she knew.
Her powers had just given then two or three seconds of warning as she hissed "Company!" to the others.
The Contessa emerged from the shadows, as if they belonged to her, her face as unreadable, almost bored, as usual, making loud enough footsteps to be noticed by the group. She motioned them in the direction of the van nearby.
"This way!"
She had wanted to be hands on. This was pretty much as hands on as one could get.
Remy nodded, taking several steps forward before stopping suddenly. He held the others with a hand and concentrated. His spatial awareness was screaming, and with a viper quick move, an energized card flashed through the dim lot and contacted with an unseen assailant with a scream.
"It's a trap!" Remy yelled, and pointed towards the ramp up. "Go, towards de top!" A brace of cards forced men to scramble for cover as they began to pour out of their hiding spots, and Remy took a brief second to lock eyes with Fontaine. The malice in his red on black eyes promised one thing; one day, he'd be back for her.
Valentina returned Remy's look with a cold, venomous smile worthy of making even a cobra shudder as she slammed the trap down, cutting the group off from their exit. She watched as they scrambled like rats in a maze.
Bullets whined past them as they hit the slope up to the next level. If they could reach the top, they could possibly make it over to the next building, or barring that, at least establish a temporary defensive line at the top of the ramp while looking for another way out. It wasn't much, but it was the only chance they had. A card dropped a sniper from his perch, as the Cajun made the turn.
"Slow dem down! We need some breathing room!"
"Bloodyfuckingbastardcunt!" Amanda's swearing was cut off by the sound of gunfire and she instinctively hunched her shoulders and put her head down. She didn't have a lot of distance spells, but she did have teammates and she could try to erect a mobile barrier as cover for them. The shielding spell was thin, stretched to its limit as she cast it in front of them, and the witch knew she wouldn't be able to hold it if they encountered anything more than gunfire.
"Jubes! Big badda boom time!"
"Big badda boom, comin' right up," Jubilee replied, forming balls of plasma in her hands and tossing them behind her as they ran up the slope, detonating them in series so that each explosion fed off the next. All in all, it would make it impossible for them to be taken from behind, at least for a moment, hopefully enough for them to get to a more defensible position, or at best scenario, the hell away from here. It wouldn't stop bullets in front of them though, for that Jubilee hoped Amanda's shield and the others abilities would do.
Keeping her head down as much as possible, Wanda was flat out running - both to get in front of Jubilee and to get away from the men with the guns. As she turned the corner, red light flashed dark around her wrists and there was a resulting scream from her left. Two men staggered away from her and then slumped to the ground, victims of "friendly fire".
She paused and turned around as an idea suddenly came to her. Ignoring everything around for a precious few seconds, she reached out and gathered handfuls of string to herself. Threads slipped in and out of her mind as she pulled more and more of them in, keeping a sharp eye on where her team was. She needed them past a certain point before she could left everything go ...
Remy turned the corner sharply at the top of the ramp, heading up the last one to the top of the parking garage. But a few steps up, he pulled up short at the barricade of black SUVs parked blocking the top of the ramp and the cluster of black clad armed men. Two figures in white stood in the middle of the ground. He recognized them from the mission files - Andrea and Andreas Schmidt, the children of the bank owner. The woman raised her arm almost negligently, and Remy had to flatten himself as a bio-blast arc from her hand and missed him by inches, ripping up a chuck of the concrete behind him. He flung himself back off the ramp and stopped the rest of his team making the turn.
"Dey got us blocked in!" Remy said, and pointed towards the opposite side of the open-tiered parking garage. "Dat way!"
Another bio-blast caught Amanda's shield and she staggered, nearly going to her knees as the magical barrier crumbled. The bullets that had been bouncing harmlessly off the spell now whined around them and as Amanda regained her balance and began running in the direction Remy had pointed, one tore through the outside part of her left thigh. Blood bloomed through the fabric of her jeans as she fell with a strangled cry.
"Son of a bitch!" Wanda gasped and mentally threw the gathered chaos energy at one time. Immediately, the cars surrounding the armed men went insane - horns blaring, lights flashing and alarms adding confusion and startling several of them as X-Force tried their best to stay alive.
Turning on her heel, Wanda honed in on Amanda and grabbed her around the waist even as she aimed a hex blast towards the two at the top. It missed, barely, but ate through the car behind them and continued on through the chest of one of their bodyguards on contact, dropping him in a splay of gore.
Jubilee could feel an almost impossible urge to laugh welling up inside her, of all the places she'd thought she might bite it, this had not been one of them. She gathered plasma balls and moved to twirl about her body, melting bullets as they whined close. It was only a matter of time though before one got through the circle of plasma, she didn't have Remy's mutant senses to help her, nor did she have an unlimited supply of energy.
"Merde." Remy's mind kept turning over the tactical situation and coming up empty. Between the gunmen under Fontaine coming up from below and the Schmidt's cutting off their escape above, the battle was turning into just a matter of time before they were overwhelmed. Amanda's injury was only the start.
Remy looked at the open sides of the building and to Wanda. Her chaos powers had a lot of applications - could they possibly wrench the odds of a four story fall? Remy pushed Jubilee towards Wanda and Amanda. "Get to de side of de garage. 'manda, dere were cars in de street. Port down and swipe one. Remy buy you some time."
Before they could argue, Remy turned and - in the minds of their attackers - improbably charged the men after them. His staff snapped up in a humming arc, and his first blow virtually decapitated the nearest gunman. His cards danced in the shadows, exploding randomly, not meant to take men out, but to check their charge; force them back long enough to buy some breathing room for the others.
Amanda had never been shot before and it was an experience she wasn't enjoying. Trying to think through the pain, she focussed on Remy's words. 'Port. Car. Clutching at the wound, she gulped and nodded once before letting herself sink into Zurich and down to the street below. Zurich didn't appreciate blood, apparently - the city spat her back out abruptly enough that if she hadn't been able to collapse against the side of a parked car, she would have fallen into the street.
"The feeling's mutual," she muttered, pulling herself together enough to find a car she could hotwire.
The moment Amanda had started to sink into the ground, Wanda had released her grip and started for the side of the parking garage that Remy had indicated. On her way there, however, she reached out and snagged a handful of Jubilee's jacket and urged the younger woman onward. Even though she might be used to throwing herself out of buildings, Wanda wasn't and she was going to need Jubilee as close to her as possible if they were both going to survive the jump in one piece.
One relative piece, anyway, Wanda thought as the two women jumped and perched on top of the cement wall that protected the cars from rolling out. A quick glance showed her that the Swiss had planted a tree not far from where they were but it was still far enough away to be trouble. Far enough away for them to miss and hit the ground.
Jubilee had allowed herself to be pulled along, not quite sure what else to do when Remy had just thrown himself into a suicidal delay action. She hesitated at the jump, wanting to go back and get him but unwilling to disobey an order when it might mean what he'd just done was for nothing. She turned her gaze helplessly to Wanda, needing someone to tell her what to do.
"Go!" Wanda barked, as she jumped herself, timing the manipulation of chaos as closely as she could to their jump. She wasn't Jennie, she couldn't just give them the good luck to make it. But she could stack it in their favor - so that Wanda hit the branch that should have been cut the other week but had been forgotten and not, say, the pavement instead.
As they picked themselves up, a car came tearing towards them, horn blaring, before coming to an abrupt stop. The car was a beaten-up looking Volswagon, canary yellow - not the most subtle of get away vehicles but the only one Amanda had been able to hotwire, given the tendency for modern vehicles to have computerised central locking and the witch being low on power - and Amanda was resting her head against the steering wheel, taking several deep breaths. The brief jaunt through Zurich had been enough to stop the bulk of the bleeding, but the wound was still oozing and using the brake was sending shooting pain up through her leg and into her back. When she was able, she lifted her head. "Get in!" she called, then realized they were one short. "Where's Remy?"
The gunman's occipital bone gave way with a crack, as the whirling staff caved in his temple, killing him instantly. A purple glowing coin spun from out-stretched fingers, catching another under the eye and tearing away his face. Remy grunted with pain as another bullet grazed him; the volume of fire too much to avoid it all. He rolled over the rear of a car, using his momentum to reach a moment of safety behind it. His attacked arrayed out in a semi-circle, urged on by the twins to take the car. But as they got closer, a double handful of charged gravel was flung up from the other side. Ordinarily just a distraction, the gravel instead stuck with the force of a fist and as it battered them, LeBeau came over the car at them like an avenging angel, killing as easily as breathing.
"He's not coming," Jubilee muttered, throat catching as the words made it real. She opened the back door and threw herself into the car without another word, huddling against the back seat as she felt about in her coat for another power bar.
This was one of the worst case scenarios they all knew existed but never wanted to talk about. Wanda clenched the top of the passenger door so tightly that her knuckles were white as she stared at the garage as if she could see through the building itself. Every part of her was screaming to go back in there, all guns blazing and extract him. But Amanda was injured in a city that wasn't really one of hers and if they went back in there, she couldn't guarantee that Jubilee or herself would remain uninjured.
Remy ...
"He's doing this to buy us time to get away," she said, wrenching the door open and throwing herself in. "He will not thank us if we wind up with a bullet in our heads for his trouble. Go."
Despite years of saying the hard things, despite knowing that Remy could get himself out of any situation better than they could get him out of it - the words hurt to say.
They hurt to hear, too, and for a moment, everything in Amanda rebelled at the thought of leaving Remy behind. But he'd trained her better than that. Him and Pete both. With a terse nod, she shoved the car into gear and planted her foot on the accelerator, tearing away with a stench of burning rubber. Already sirens were beginning to approach, and they had to be out of the area before the cordons were set up.
The killing ground grew slippery with blood. Men lay ruined in scattered groups, as if some force had simply willed them dead where they stood. Broken bodies lay atop cars and pushed through windshields. But, for all of the death, the outcome was never really in doubt. A kick crushed the windpipe of a knife wielding man, but it also robbed Remy of just enough momentum that when Andrea Schmidt raised her hand, there was no way for even his preternatural agility to carry him clear of the bio-blast. It struck him like a truck impact to the chest, flinging him back like a ragdoll, where he glanced off of a concrete pylon with a wet crunch and tumbled end over end down over the floor. He felt the bones in his shoulder crack, ribs snap and dark spots swam in his vision as he twitched on the concrete, trying to will his legs back under him; to keep moving, keep fighting. Andreas expensive leather shoe planted directly between his shoulder blades, and forced him down on the ground as darts of pain shot through his back.
"Hurensohn." He said quietly, looking back at the collateral damage. "Expensive bill for just one captive, sister."
"Well, then, brother," his sister replied, "we had better make sure that we ring as much worth out of his miserable hide as we can." She pouted at him as she walked up to rest her head on his shoulder for a moment. "I want to play with him first - these shoes are ruined." With that, she took a step back and kicked Remy square in the side of the head.
The Contessa strode past the brother and sister, ignoring their overly gregarious affection toward one another save for the curl of nose.
"Enough. We're running out of time. The police will be here soon. Play with him later," she said as crouched down and pulled Remy up by his hair so he would meet her eyes like a hunter examining their game.
"Get him into the van," she told the men that were left, the poisonous smile returning to her lips before she let his head drop. She pulled out a handkerchief, cleaning the blood she had gotten from him off her hands as she walked past.
Remy only dully registered the men roughly hauling him up and dragging him to the van. Even the jarring pain from being tossed on to the floor of the van barely reached him. He'd been captured and the only satisfaction that he could muster was that the others must have gotten free and the only thing they'd get out of him would be a corpse if he could help it. That last thought almost made him smile as the blackness reached up and took him.
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