Genosha: The End of the Beginning: Things Gone Wrong

[x-gambit.livejournal.com]

A broken plan leaves people scrambling.



Every city has it's slum area and Hammer Bay, despite the tourist advertising, was no exception. Huddled away from the beaches and the hotels, Hammer Bay's poor lived in small apartments and houses made of concrete, joined at the roof by a series of corrugated iron and bamboo walkways. Laundry hung from lines strung between the buildings and the narrow streets and alleyways were crowded with life - mopeds and bicycle rickshaws, temporary shelters made out of cardboard boxes, heaped garbage and feral cats and dogs, flitting to and fro.

Tonight, however, with the drama happening at the Citadel not so far away, the streets were empty, the denizens of Hammer Bay knowing when to lay low. Except for the three figures currently making their way towards the chaos.

Sooraya pulled the colorful veils that Jean-Paul had stolen for her from one of the laundry lines closer around her. With her dark coloring and her English far more broken then it actually was she had been able to blend in fairly well with the washer women and cleaning ladies that the hotels illegally liked to hire as day labrours. She turned to Jean-Paul as she hurried along and said: "Do you truly think we will be able to go home?"

Jean-Paul didn't actually know how to answer. Honesty would probably seem cruel but lying served no purpose. This wasn't the sort of situation people simply walked away from unscathed. "I do not know," he answered. "It is likely that people have either come or are coming, oui? But we saw the facility, we saw the guards and soldiers... if there is no other way, we can always fly to the mainland." But he didn't want to risk leaving behind anyone else who might have managed to escape. And during a disaster, they always told you to stick close to the crash site so rescuers could find you more easily. Thus, their current actions.

Artie rolled his eyes. They'd been safe and now they were heading into danger. Still, it was better than sitting around in the dingy rooms they'd managed to scavenge up through whatever means Jean-Paul had used.

Bishop bounded out of an alley, brick dust raining down from concentrated puffs behind him as bullets bored into the walls. "Turn around!" He called out to the group when he saw them, his clothing tattered and accented by large scorch marks. "I have a tail!" It was obvious but, in the heat of the moment, it was important to share everything he could.

Sooraya's eyes widened as she saw her shooting teacher tearing out of the alley. "Mr. Bish..." Her voice immediately fell silent though when she noticed the bullets flying after them and only a few moments later the tail he had warned them about. As soon as the soldiers spotted them also, guns were also aimed in their direction and Sooraya shifted as soon as she saw them pointed at them, her veils fluttering to the ground.

"Marde," Jean-Paul hissed, a stream of religiously inspired curses flowing forth as he shot straight up. There was no cover but it was difficult to see him given the speed with which he moved and it would have taken a very lucky shot to take the Québécois down. Without much thought for the consequences, Jean-Paul dropped to the ground behind the group of people chasing Bishop and began taking them out in quick succession. Guns dropped to the ground as he disabled the soldiers wielding them but the clatter attracted the attention of the men in the lead and they turned their attention to him.

"FUCK!" The letters appeared beside Artie's head in bold and bright text, gone a second later as he concentrated and managed to throw up a copy of the wall he was standing next to in front of himself to act as camoflage. It wouldn't stop bullets, but it might hide him long enough to get the fuck out of here.

Once the fire shifted away from Bishop, he had the opportunity to turn and take cover. His focus was on supporting Jean-Paul. There were several soldiers and, even with the man's speed, it was possible someone could get a lucky shot in when he stopped to deal with a threat.

Bishop had run out of ammunition much earlier in the chase and resorted to firing concussive blasts into the Genoshan soldiers, at best. At times he fired the energy into the buildings forming the alley, using the chaos and rubble to provide Jean-Paul with more cover which he could use to his advantage.

Sooraya had been careful not to get in the way of the two men and so she had focused on blocking the alley by forming a stinging dust storm, trying to keep soldiers from passing through. When she noticed a soldier 'sneaking' up on Bishop and flanking him, she acted quickly though. She rushed forward, stinging tendrils of the Whip lashing out at the soldier's hands so he would drop his gun and then pushed forward under the guy's shoes, using the carpet-less equivalent of pulling the rug from under the soldier. The soldier fell to the ground and Sooraya hovered there, seeing if the guy was getting up again.

Though he turned to the threat, it would have been much too late if Sooraya hadn't been there. With the man now on the ground, Bishop gave him a quick, fierce kick to the ribs to make sure he was staying down. "Well done." His praise wasn't often or gushing but it was meaningful.

Dodging the rubble caused by Bishop's blasts as it fell was a simple matter. Not so simple, of course, were the bullets now being shot at Jean-Paul with more accuracy than he liked. Still, if it came down to taking a bullet or letting one of the others get shot, the Québécois supposed he would have to make sure the bullet went somewhere unimportant.

Jean-Paul moved forward, limbs blurring, and then dove to take the last soldier out at the knees. He hoped he would also avoid getting shot, but he wasn't holding his breath.

The rest of them were dealing fine without him... Of course, that was the moment when one last soldier staggered past, running through his projection and nearly into him. Artie reacted out of instinct more than anything, all those years of self defence classes finally coming together; he lashed out, punching the man in the throat and then kneeing him in the groin, so he fell to the ground, gasping and gagging. Artie brushed the sweat from his forehead and looked around to see if anyone had seen his awesome.

With a final, vicious strike to the man's face, Jean-Paul made sure the man was disabled and rose. He took a moment to breathe, still highly attuned to the possibility of enemies coming from any direction. Once he felt confident that no one else approached and their group only had to deal with the few soldiers Sooraya held back, the Québécois stooped to quickly disarm the men they had fought. Checking that the safety was on for each weapon he picked up, he then headed over to Bishop and handed the man several.

Bishop took the firearms gladly, waving Artie over. "Good striking. Anyone teach you how to spot?" He sank down behind cover, leaving room to his side for the younger man. "When I start shooting, if I'm not hitting right, give me an arrow. Sooraya and JP will corral them for us."

The sand cloud quickly changed patterns when she realized what Bishop was up to. Though deep inside she still hated shooting and how it could hurt the men, she didn't see they had much choice. The sand thinned in one part of the cloud so the men would think they could rush through and indeed, soon after the first man braved the stinging sand...
As soon as the men began to funnel through, Bishop set out a kill zone for the ambush. He fired into the line of men as best he could considering the sandstorm, trying to spread the grouping out horizontally so they wouldn't fan out once they were past Sooraya.

Artie watched closely, tracking Bishop's shooting and Sooraya's movement, watching the shifts in light and shadow that denoted the men. As soon as he found one, he slapped a glowing green spot onto the midpoint of their torso, keeping it there as they moved.

With Artie's assistance, Bishop was easily able to put down anyone Sooraya allowed through. After a short, intense firefight, the group was ready to move on. "Group up. We're headed to a safe house." He said while making a habitual swirl with his left hand.

Jean-Paul nodded his agreement. "I will, as they say, go high. It is safest this way, oui? I will see them coming." And that, he suspected, would be very useful indeed. As would the slight element of surprise his flight allowed them - no one ever looked up. It was a fact of human nature that the Quebecois dearly appreciated - especially now.



The patrols were getting more frequent and it was only a matter of time until one of them spotted the two men, one hobbling, the other wearing leather pants far from the nightclub district. The night was wearing on as well, and once dawn came they had to be under cover. The odds were steadily increasing against them.

Wade kept his arm clamped to his injured side and tried to walk faster. He knew his healing factor was working because it didn't hurt quite so badly to breathe, but bones always took a while to mend and constant movement hadn't made the process any easier. "Trouble," he said, indicating yet another patrol as it approached them from ahead and to the left.

Jean-Phillipe was quite glad that he had managed to link up with his cousin's boyfriend after finding himself alone trying to avoid being captured. Between the fact that two of them could better watch out for each other, and the spare knives Wade carried, he felt much more ready to take on the Genoshan forces if necessary. The knife was held low and loose in his hand, his confidence with the weapon coming from his time working in the rough-and-tumble docks of Marseilles. He held the knife in closer to his body to hide it from casual sight as the patrol approached, and nodded to Wade to indicate that he saw them.

Unfortunately for the pair, these weren't your typical patrolling bad guys. One was already calling in for backup as they approached, and there was a rumble of an engine as a jeep appeared around the corner. Its spotlights clicked on, catching the two mutants in their harsh glare.

Wade took a slow breath and evaluated their situation as he lifted his free hand to shade his eyes. Not good. Not good at all. Quietly, he said, "On the count of three, run. One of us needs to get to the secondary location. You're more mobile and I'm harder to kill." He got a basic idea of where people were and a clear shot at the blindingly bright search light before dropping his hand.

"One," he muttered softly. Then raised his voice despite the pain in his side. "Hey, you guys look hella official. Maybe you can help me and my man here - what you think?" Stepping partially in front of the X-Man, the mercenary propped his free hand on his hip so it was closer to the gun he'd tucked at the small of his back. "We are seriously lost - like you have no idea. There's supposed to be this convention, right? It's like full of eligible, rich broads looking for eye candy and, like, cabana boys." He pasted on a shit-eating grin as he said, "Two."

The guards didn't look impressed. Wade's smile widened. "I mean, I dunno, dudes. Maybe you have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm pretty sure none of you were invited. You're all ugly as fuck and you probably couldn't get a lady off with a vibrator, an instruction manual, and a giant, flashing neon sign saying 'clit here.' Three."

Pulling his gun, Wade shot out the spotlight and then started shooting for the locations where the soldiers were standing as he walked backward. This wasn't going to end well, but maybe Colbert would get away.

Jean-Phillipe was impressed with just how annoying and abrasive Wade could be when he put his mind to it. So much so that he almost missed the cue for listening to Wade's stream of insults. But he pivoted and took off, holding a charge to throw at the jeep if necessary to cover the escape. As his legs pumped, he supposed it was a good thing he jogged for exercise, because it was certainly showing its use.

Pressed up against the wall trying to be inconspicuous, Matt, Fred and Megan tried hard not to be seen. Matt had to trust Fred and Megan in regards to that. "Guys," he breathed, hearing Wade and then a moment later, Jean-Philippe's familiar heartbeat. "X-Men." Peeling away from the wall, he crept out to intercept the other man. "Hey!" he called, waving a little, but not wanting to call attention to himself more than he had.

Fred, on reflex, stepped between Matt and the unknown, gently but firmly pressing the younger mutants' hands down. Since they'd escaped, Fred hadn't really been able to get his powers quite under control; being 'inconspicuous' and being 'an eight foot tall fat monster' weren't really ideal dual objectives. Between having to deal with the Genoshans and keeping the younger pair of mutants safe, Fred was almost happy at the prospect of another fight...

He narrowed his eyes at the approaching Wade and JP, and managed a broad smile, but didn't move from between Matt and Megan and everything else.

Megan wasn't very familiar with the X-Men but she recognized them. Her heart soared with hope, but she stayed hidden behind Fred's protective bulk. She was exhausted physically and emotionally. And mentally, too - having escaped the sensory deprivation of the lab, she now felt positively overwhelmed.

Wade took a bullet to the thigh but it went all the way through and was high enough that it didn't make his leg give out. "Mercenary: 1, Genoshans: 8," he called, hoping to draw attention away from the small group of kids - was that Matt? Pulling his second gun free of its holster as he reached the relative shelter of the alley, he suppressed a grimace at the pain caused by his earlier injuries. "Run," he hissed, motioning at Jean-Philippe. "C'mon, Jolt. Get them out of here." He had a limited amount of ammo, but if it came down to it, he was pretty good at hand to hand. The guards would overwhelm him, but he could buy the kids some time.

"Merde." That word had been getting a lot of use in the past...however long it had been, Jean-Phillipe had completely lost track of time in the panic. And the old Jean-Phillipe, the Brotherhood spy who had come to the mansion, wouldn't have hesitated to cut and run, especially when practically given permission by Wade. But the X-Man Jean-Phillipe knew that his cousin would never forgive him for letting her boyfriend sacrifice himself like that. And so he sent bolts of electricity at the magistrates, covering Wade as they both withdrew step by step.

Megan heard an eardrum-piercing scream and jumped, before realizing that it was coming from her own mouth. She tried to stop, but couldn't. She stumbled forward with the group for a few steps with panic-induced tunnel vision. She bit down on her lip, drawing blood, finally becoming quiet. She tried to bring herself back from the edge of panic, tried to remember her training in control. All she seemed to remember was the training Laurie had given her in controlling her dust. Latching on to that, she recalled those lessons and steadily brought her dust to the surface of her skin, building it up without losing control. Finally, carefully, she released it in a dense cloud that swirled in the (night?) breeze and drifted toward their enemies. To speed it along, she pushed the air behind it with her four wings, wincing at the pain the one bent wing brought her.

Some of the soldiers started giggling. One started singing and waving his arms around. Two others grabbed each other and started kissing passionately. But, for the most part, they were leaving the group alone.

A soldier approached Matt doing what he could only describe as the cha-cha. When the guy reached for him though, Matt's training with Wade and Kyle kicked in and despite not having his cane he grabbed his arm and twisted, making the soldier fall and cry out in pain. His head hurt, his entire body hurt, he wanted to go home. And he didn't like any dancing soldiers, even as the guy got up and began dancing again.

Fred would've been more amused if these people hadn't tried to turn him and his friends into mindless drones. Fred cocked back his arm to punch one of the dancing guards, but sighed and put his arm down and just looked to Wade as he walked up to him.

Wade blinked for a moment, feeling a very, very small moment of relief from the pain of his gunshot wound and his still knitting bones. It was gone a moment later, but it gave him some idea as to what was going on with those soldiers. He holstered his guns and checked his leg wound to make sure it had at least started to heal, then walked carefully over to the group of kids. Eyeing the tall guy, he said, "Wade Wilson. I've seen you in the garage at the mansion. We need to find a truck. Now." Then he stepped around him and said, "Pinkie, quick thinking with that dusty stuff."

Megan smiled wearily. "Thanks. It was sort of automatic," she replied in her airy voice. She felt shaky and relieved at the same time. "I'm Megan by the way. But you can call me Pinkie. I mean Pixie. Either way I guess." She scratched her messy pink hair in thought. "Do you think it's safe to fly up and have a look? Maybe I could spot something."

Jean-Phillipe took a look at the bent wing on Megan's back and shook his head. "You could injure yourself further," he said. He gave a magistrate who was still a bit too close for his liking, despite the blissed out expression, a judicious jolt just because it made him feel better. "These men would certainly have to have some kind of transportation close by," he presumed. "If I had to guess, I would say around that corner."

Pausing just long enough to check the mags in each of his guns, Wade nodded. He made sure he had the last of the extra clips he'd grabbed before going out the window at the safe house still securely stashed on him, then said, "I'll take point. Jean-Philippe, you're being me. I want Pinkie here and Matt in the center. Matt, you hear anything out of the ordinary, whistle for me." Looking at Fred, Wade actually grinned. He decided he liked the guy. "You, big fella, are bringing up the rear. Treat anybody that gets too close like you just did that guard and we'll be set. Everybody, fall in - Matt, your echo location thing working okay?"

"Yeah....it's working," Matt replied distantly. If it weren't....he didn't want to think about that. He had been powerless days? Days earlier. Had it been days? Hours? He wasn't sure right now. Regardless, it had terrified him, being truly blind without his powers. He didn't mention that while a lot of things sounded the same, so much was different that he wasn't sure how much he trusted his hearing and sonar right now. "We're okay for now."

Megan shuffled to the center of the group as they made their way to the suspected vehicle site. Jean-Phillipe was right. As they rounded the corner, they saw a truck parked there like a present under a tree. Well, conveniently located to the soldiers anyway, who now didn't seem like they needed it. "What are the chances the keys are...?" she wondered aloud.

One gun still held at the ready, Wade opened the door and shook his head. "Not so hot. We're not going to back to deal with Grope-y McGroperson over there to try and find the keys, though. JP, cover them while they get in. Matt, I want you in the cab with me and Pinkie. Big guy, you're in the back with JP. I'll have us ready to go in a few minutes, tops." With that, he holstered his gun and set about hotwiring the truck.