Fires From The Ashes - Log 5
Jan. 15th, 2015 06:06 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsOroro leads a team to Africa and discovers Apocalypse himself.
It was hot.
It was dusty.
And what they would discover was surprising.
They'd found information leading them to Africa; following a trail of supplies and armaments to a small site away from town or really, anything that could pass for civilization. It was difficult to find a place to stake the location out of, but using their skills, they'd managed to persuade a local goat-herder to lend them his hut. Money probably helped too.
So here they sat, taking turns in front of the window, watching the warehouse for any type of movement.
Surveillance was far from the most exciting task in their repertoire, Ororo knew, especially for those not accustomed to it, but it was also the most important; without detailed knowledge there would be no point in acting. They had already traced the weapons this far, but the next step remained shrouded for now.
It had been predictably difficult to even get here; the sales had been encrypted and routed through enough dummy accounts that the first few passes had turned up nothing of note. It was only a lucky coincidence and prior run-ins with a particular holding company that had flagged up the proper route to take, and from there it had still taken more than a few bribes and twisted arms to get them the information they needed. This had led them here, to this hut, in the middle of nowhere.
"Any movement yet?" she inquired, glancing across to the pair at the window.
"Nothing clear. Too much dust." Marie-Ange said, from behind a pair of binoculars. "A very little bit on infrared, but whoever is in there has space heaters or sun lamps. It could still be a pot grow farm." She ducked under the windowsill and rubbed her face. "Eyestrain, someone else take this please." She waved the binoculars. "Plus something is not right about that building. I want to try something." She explained, as she pulled out a sketchpad.
Callisto rose to her feet and moved over to the window without a word, reaching for the binoculars, though she left them dangling from her hand at first, just leaning up into the draught from the window.
"I don't think its pot or opium," she said blandly. "Though hard to say for sure, wind's not quite right." She lifted the binoculars to her eyes. "There's movement though."
"Given lack of access to lamps with the right wattage, particularly in this part of Egypt, I'm gonna take a wild guess and say it's not pot or opium, which leaves us with... what? Evil monkey people with questionable taste in hats?" Wade asked, not bothering to raise his eyes from the whetstone he was sharpening Selma on.
"Well, that's a lot of evil monkey people," Rachel commented, tilting her head at an angle to watch Marie-Ange work from her perch on top of a rickety table. She was fiddling with one of the guns that Wade had nonchalantly dropped in her lap ("You want some shuriken to go with that?"), booted feet idly swinging from side to side like she hadn't been sending a bunch of vague telepathic pings out every couple of minutes. "Don't have an exact number, but there's a couple'a monkeys with larger-than-average TP presences."
Which, y'know, meant mutants.
"Evil monkey people. Is there any fucking way this could get worse? Because I want to start a fucking betting pool. A hundred dollars says we find something really fucking sick out here," Cammie said, her arms crossed over her chest as she bristled, mostly to herself. She didn't like this situation or anything to do with it, but here they were. Life: it liked to beat the shit out of you.
"I want that confirmed," Ororo said, rising from her seat and glancing around at the group. "I will provide the cover - Callisto, Marie-Ange, Wade, you will approach and verify. Take scarves and goggles - you will need them."
"Sure thing," Wade said. "Sandburn's a bitch. I only just regrew this eye." Standing up, he sheathed Selma and fitted the whetstone back into its pouch on his belt.
Marie-Ange set down her sketchpad and rubbed at her face. "There is definitely something in that building. There is no way that they need those sorts of reinforced walls for a warehouse, and there is not enough power going in for a hothouse. They tried to conceal some of it but that building is not just someone's smuggling den." She slipped the goggles over her eyes, but then pushed them up on her forehead. "I am going to be useless once the duststorm is very thick. Rachel, could you... " This was absurd. "Get me up high? If Wade and Callisto are seen, I can provide a distraction but only if I can see."
The younger redhead hopped lightly off her perch, gun slipping into a thigh holster as she moved over to the window and peered skywards, making grabby hands at Callisto for the binoculars.
"Sure. I'll send you up in a bubble like Glinda the Good Witch. As long as you don't need to send anything physical through the bubble," Rachel said, her continued nonchalance somewhat out of place for the situation and disjointed with the smooth blankness of her face. "If you do, give me a signal and I'll give you an opening."
Callisto pulled her goggles - her own, as she needed them in that sort of light, even without a sandstorm - down over her eyes, and grabbed a scarf to cover her mouth and nose. She unhunched as she got clear of the window, straightening up and shaking out her limbs a bit, and then checking her knives, patting herself down - arm, arm, leg, leg, ankle, ankle, small of the back, shoulder holsters... "Ready."
Pulling a pair of military grade goggles out of a pouch on his belt, Wade put them on, then tied a bandanna over his face to cover his nose and mouth. Tac vest, guns, and knives - everything was good to go. "Let's go Chickadee, Ladybird, Thing One." He grinned though no one could see it. "I'm Thing Two."
The wind was already stirring as they stepped outside; they had to slam the door shut to keep it from pushing piles of sand into the hut. Though their faces were mostly covered any other exposed skin was soon stinging as the tiny grains scraped over it and they hurried tugged sleeves and collars up to shield themselves.
A translucent bubble formed around Rachel and expanded to include Marie-Ange as Ororo's sandstorm started gaining traction. The psion gave only a word of warning before gently lifting them off their feet, moving higher but within the swirling dust as Wade and Callisto advanced on their target under the provided cover.
The solid and yet not air under her feet was unnerving. Marie-Ange hadn't trained much with telekinetics. Ororo's and Sofia's winds, yes, but this was a far cry from being whipped into the air by a gust. This was eerie silent stillness surrounding both women, a bubble of calm inside the intensity of the dust storm. ~Deadpool, Callisto, we can see you. You have...~ But it was ridiculous to say. "Aerial support if needed."
The skin on the back of Wade's neck was red and slightly raw by the time they made it to the building they'd been observing. Apparently his healing factor didn't prioritize surface abrasion for whatever reason. That'd be a bitch later, but for now he motioned to Callisto to see if they were close enough for confirmation on whether or not mutants were in the building.
Hand held up to keep her scarf in place, Callisto nodded, and moved closer to turn and talk into his ear. "Definitely in there," she said, "but I dunno how many - we can get closer and find out, or fall back and report; what d'you think?"
Wade paused, considering the most logical ways the armaments they'd been tracking would be useful. "We need to get closer," he said, shaking his head. They'd found manifests for heavy artillery in addition to weaponry for foot soldiers. "There's a reason all those weapons came here. We need to know what was worth destroying Muir for." And killing so many people.
Callisto nodded. "We should bear round that way," she gestured. "Better cover for getting closer, and I don't think there's anyone near those windows."
After checking their airborne support as best he could - the sandstorm was thick by necessity, after all, Wade led the way around the side of the building as Callisto suggested. Stealth wasn't really a problem, per se, given the wind and the pelting the sand was giving the shack, but it never paid to get sloppy.
They made it to the indicated windows with seeming ease, so Wade stationed himself a bit in front of Callisto and motioned that she should try listening. They had confirmation of mutants, but he wanted to see if they could get anything else. He made a bet with himself right then that this was the ridiculous above ground entrance to a massive, subterranean lair. It'd have to be because really - Google Earth.
Callisto was hunched by some barrels that provided at least some semblance of cover, eyes narrowed behind her goggles as she squinted at the building through the swirling sands. Thus she managed to duck out of the way when the nearest door to them swung open, and an imposing figure stepped out into the storm.
His tall, muscled frame was clad in lightweight leathers in a dark blue. He moved with that familiar coiled-spring stride that spoke of considerable physical capabilities - speed, strength - and he seemed entirely unbothered by the storm, to the point where he had exited the shack without any covering over his head or face.
That meant, of course, that everyone watching - Callisto, Wade, and those behind the binoculars in the look-out - recognised him immediately.
Apocalypse.
Verdant eyes flashed dark and fists clenched reflexively. An animalistic growl started building low in her throat as Rachel, now unmistakably Revenant, unceremoniously shoved Marie-Ange behind her with a fleeting thought, all of her focus now locked in on the mutant that had been the face of death and torture for her whole life.
Make-believe or not, Essex and Kwannon had been nothing but realistic in their world building.
And now her parents were dead again, Muir perishing with them. Matt was dead. Catseye was dead. Sam was dead. So many more dead and dying. Rows upon rows of headstones in a graveyard, marked with familiar names and spilt blood.
She would have screamed, but the murderous intent that settled over Revenant was an icy chill that seemed to burn the very air around her.
The images of past and present blurred together and the dull roar in her ears rose to a deafening pitch. Power built in her hands and underneath the pores of her skin as the grief she had ruthlessly suppressed bubbled up and frothed over in the form of incandescent rage and sparking waves of energy that rose and built itself into a towering tsunami waiting to crash into the face of the Apocalypse.
Underneath, as the telekinetic chaos raged, Apocalypse looked up, as though he could pierce the dust clouds. He examined the apex of the dust storm, gave a dismissive nod, and then gave an order to the men and women who had started spilling out of the warehouse.
Apocalypse's people had been pointed directly in the path of Wade and Callisto. Unerringly so. Uncannily so.
The bubble of calm dropped out from under Marie-Ange long enough for vertigo to set in, and then it returned, smacking her down flat under heavy pressure. Under the weight of Rachel's rage, it took intense effort to drag her arm up to her jacket, and retrieve the cards stashed there.
The squad of mutants was not met by Callisto's knives, or Wade's guns and explosives. They were stalled - by a heavy rain of enormous skulls that fell from the sky and splashed into chunky white ooze as they met the ground, people, and the warehouse.
"Hold positions," came the terse instruction over the comms. Glued to the binoculars back in the hideout, Ororo had spotted Apocalypse as soon as he had showed himself. What she couldn't tell through the whirling sandstorm - which she maintained despite the fact that their presence was obviously known - was what was happening to her team, except that it didn't sound good. She had a few guesses why that might be.
"Wade, get Rachel out of there - now."
"On it," Wade grunted, sprinting forward to meet the spot where Rachel and her TK bubble, complete with Marie-Ange, sat down. "Shit," he muttered, fully audible over the comms. It was like Rachel wasn't even there, wasn't processing anyone's presence but Apocalypse's. She dropped that bubble and started moving forward without blinking and Wade knew that look, he knew that face.
She sent people flying, trapped two different minions between opposing TK walls and smushed them like they were squishy toys for puppies, like they were nothing. "Storm, we're coming in hot," he said, coming up behind Rachel as she started making her way toward Apocalypse despite the skulls raining down on them - none of them touched her.
By extension, none of them touched Wade as he slid beneath the TK gizmo she had over her head. They'd trained together. They understood one another. She'd never expect him to do what he did next - straight up pistol whip her. She crumpled, Wade wrapping an arm around her waist, as he tucked her unconscious body into his side to protect her from the skulls now hammering down on them. "Retreating now. Thing One, Tarot, cover us - I've got extra guns if you need them. We need an out now."
Keeping the rain of skulls going and not hitting her teammates or herself meant Marie-Ange had nothing left to reply. She moved through the debris and goo on the ground, only a few yards to where Callisto had stationed herself, poised to cover Wade and Rachel's retreat, pointed to the warehouse, and the dropped a wax-paper wrapped package into the other woman's hands.
Callisto weighed the object in her hand, immediately realising what it must be. She lost no time before jumping to her feet and launching forward, long strides eating up the ground as she went, unheeding of the gore-covered skulls battering off her skinny frame.
The rain of skulls tapered off, the last few splattering the ground in one big pile. The mound of muddy dusty goo shuddered a few times, and then erupted into activity, becoming a skeleton army that split itself into two groups, one following behind a marching black-suit clad skeleton, and the other racing back and forth between the warehouse and a white-sheet draped shape that was almost canine.
Callisto had to hope that this was enough distraction that her actions would go unnoticed. As soon as she was within the range of her powerful arm, she ripped the paper from the transmitter and tossed it at the wall by the window of the warehouse. Mercifully, it stuck, because it was right around then that the mass of skeletal forms began to swarm nearer and she literally had to run over and through them to get out of their way, kicking one skeleton viciously in half as she made her exit, clothes and exposed skin thick with gore by the time she was running back toward the team.
***
It had been a difficult extraction - their cover blown, it was all they could do to get Rachel out without an incident or injury. Eventually they regrouped at a safe house in Alexandria and settled in to monitor the transmitter, which thankfully went unnoticed long enough for them to discern several other key locations in Apocalypse's plans.
Wade pulled a tattered map from one of the pockets on his tac vest and unfolded it on a table. He stole a pen from Marie-Ange and marked out the cities they'd overheard Apocalypse discussing. "Marrakesh, Cairo, Bangkok, Vaduz, Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte - a couple in South America, fucking Vancouver, what the hell. The guy's all over the damn place." He laid the pen down and rubbed his eyes, then went to check on Rachel even though he thought she might punch him for what he'd done.
"It would not put it past them to have mentioned some wild geese for us to chase too." Marie-Ange said from the other side of the table. "Cypher's little sticky transmitter bug should have destroyed itself cleanly but it is hard to confirm that. But it gives us somewhere to start, yes? What I want to know is, how is he not quite dead? I know who killed him, he should be dead. How is he alive and capable of this sort of destruction?"
"Sadly I believe finding the answer to that question will be secondary to trying to stop him enacting his plan, whatever it may be," Ororo murmured, leaning forward to peruse the map for a moment before standing and fishing the cell phone from her pocket. After stepping away from the group she was soon embroiled in a murmured conversation, the contents of which included the litany of cities they had just discovered.
"World domination," a quiet voice piped up, quickly followed by a loud crash as Wade hit the floor with a strangled sound before he could reach Rachel as the weight of her shield felled him to the floor hard enough for his head to bounce off of it but not enough for his ribs to crack as it pinned him from neck down. The redhead swung her legs off the couch as she sat up, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head as she glared down at Wade. Logically, she knew why she had been stopped, but the betrayal of an attack from a trusted ally hurt more than the sharp pain at the back of her skull. "Trite. Should have let me at him."
"War 101," Wade said, voice calm despite the ache in his shoulder where he'd hit the ground and the pressure on his chest from her TK shield. "Pick your battles if you can. If your sacrifice would have made a difference, sure. Go fight a guy you've got no hope of beating in his territory. You dying wouldn't have done us any good in the long run. You know that, same as me. One life for the greater good - absolutely. Not gonna let you waste it, though, chickadee."
The snarl that curled her lips was an ugly one, all teeth and rage, but the shield disappeared as quickly as it came as the redhead stood and stepped over him, ignoring the room as she swept into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
"And people say I have an attitude problem," Cammie grumbled, "Should she even fucking be here?" Cammie asked, jamming a thumb in the direction of the locked door, "She's going to get herself killed or worse, us." She was coming back from this, if only to rain revenge down on whoever was responsible for all the death in the first place.
"Teams will need to be reshuffled," Ororo told them tiredly. Had leading a team always been this much like playing babysitter? She was getting older while the rest of them seemed to stay the same age... Shaking herself out of her reverie, she took a deep breath and reached for her phone once more. "In the meantime, I want the rest of that information transcribed and sent to the other teams. We may be on the back foot but we are not going into this blind."
It was hot.
It was dusty.
And what they would discover was surprising.
They'd found information leading them to Africa; following a trail of supplies and armaments to a small site away from town or really, anything that could pass for civilization. It was difficult to find a place to stake the location out of, but using their skills, they'd managed to persuade a local goat-herder to lend them his hut. Money probably helped too.
So here they sat, taking turns in front of the window, watching the warehouse for any type of movement.
Surveillance was far from the most exciting task in their repertoire, Ororo knew, especially for those not accustomed to it, but it was also the most important; without detailed knowledge there would be no point in acting. They had already traced the weapons this far, but the next step remained shrouded for now.
It had been predictably difficult to even get here; the sales had been encrypted and routed through enough dummy accounts that the first few passes had turned up nothing of note. It was only a lucky coincidence and prior run-ins with a particular holding company that had flagged up the proper route to take, and from there it had still taken more than a few bribes and twisted arms to get them the information they needed. This had led them here, to this hut, in the middle of nowhere.
"Any movement yet?" she inquired, glancing across to the pair at the window.
"Nothing clear. Too much dust." Marie-Ange said, from behind a pair of binoculars. "A very little bit on infrared, but whoever is in there has space heaters or sun lamps. It could still be a pot grow farm." She ducked under the windowsill and rubbed her face. "Eyestrain, someone else take this please." She waved the binoculars. "Plus something is not right about that building. I want to try something." She explained, as she pulled out a sketchpad.
Callisto rose to her feet and moved over to the window without a word, reaching for the binoculars, though she left them dangling from her hand at first, just leaning up into the draught from the window.
"I don't think its pot or opium," she said blandly. "Though hard to say for sure, wind's not quite right." She lifted the binoculars to her eyes. "There's movement though."
"Given lack of access to lamps with the right wattage, particularly in this part of Egypt, I'm gonna take a wild guess and say it's not pot or opium, which leaves us with... what? Evil monkey people with questionable taste in hats?" Wade asked, not bothering to raise his eyes from the whetstone he was sharpening Selma on.
"Well, that's a lot of evil monkey people," Rachel commented, tilting her head at an angle to watch Marie-Ange work from her perch on top of a rickety table. She was fiddling with one of the guns that Wade had nonchalantly dropped in her lap ("You want some shuriken to go with that?"), booted feet idly swinging from side to side like she hadn't been sending a bunch of vague telepathic pings out every couple of minutes. "Don't have an exact number, but there's a couple'a monkeys with larger-than-average TP presences."
Which, y'know, meant mutants.
"Evil monkey people. Is there any fucking way this could get worse? Because I want to start a fucking betting pool. A hundred dollars says we find something really fucking sick out here," Cammie said, her arms crossed over her chest as she bristled, mostly to herself. She didn't like this situation or anything to do with it, but here they were. Life: it liked to beat the shit out of you.
"I want that confirmed," Ororo said, rising from her seat and glancing around at the group. "I will provide the cover - Callisto, Marie-Ange, Wade, you will approach and verify. Take scarves and goggles - you will need them."
"Sure thing," Wade said. "Sandburn's a bitch. I only just regrew this eye." Standing up, he sheathed Selma and fitted the whetstone back into its pouch on his belt.
Marie-Ange set down her sketchpad and rubbed at her face. "There is definitely something in that building. There is no way that they need those sorts of reinforced walls for a warehouse, and there is not enough power going in for a hothouse. They tried to conceal some of it but that building is not just someone's smuggling den." She slipped the goggles over her eyes, but then pushed them up on her forehead. "I am going to be useless once the duststorm is very thick. Rachel, could you... " This was absurd. "Get me up high? If Wade and Callisto are seen, I can provide a distraction but only if I can see."
The younger redhead hopped lightly off her perch, gun slipping into a thigh holster as she moved over to the window and peered skywards, making grabby hands at Callisto for the binoculars.
"Sure. I'll send you up in a bubble like Glinda the Good Witch. As long as you don't need to send anything physical through the bubble," Rachel said, her continued nonchalance somewhat out of place for the situation and disjointed with the smooth blankness of her face. "If you do, give me a signal and I'll give you an opening."
Callisto pulled her goggles - her own, as she needed them in that sort of light, even without a sandstorm - down over her eyes, and grabbed a scarf to cover her mouth and nose. She unhunched as she got clear of the window, straightening up and shaking out her limbs a bit, and then checking her knives, patting herself down - arm, arm, leg, leg, ankle, ankle, small of the back, shoulder holsters... "Ready."
Pulling a pair of military grade goggles out of a pouch on his belt, Wade put them on, then tied a bandanna over his face to cover his nose and mouth. Tac vest, guns, and knives - everything was good to go. "Let's go Chickadee, Ladybird, Thing One." He grinned though no one could see it. "I'm Thing Two."
The wind was already stirring as they stepped outside; they had to slam the door shut to keep it from pushing piles of sand into the hut. Though their faces were mostly covered any other exposed skin was soon stinging as the tiny grains scraped over it and they hurried tugged sleeves and collars up to shield themselves.
A translucent bubble formed around Rachel and expanded to include Marie-Ange as Ororo's sandstorm started gaining traction. The psion gave only a word of warning before gently lifting them off their feet, moving higher but within the swirling dust as Wade and Callisto advanced on their target under the provided cover.
The solid and yet not air under her feet was unnerving. Marie-Ange hadn't trained much with telekinetics. Ororo's and Sofia's winds, yes, but this was a far cry from being whipped into the air by a gust. This was eerie silent stillness surrounding both women, a bubble of calm inside the intensity of the dust storm. ~Deadpool, Callisto, we can see you. You have...~ But it was ridiculous to say. "Aerial support if needed."
The skin on the back of Wade's neck was red and slightly raw by the time they made it to the building they'd been observing. Apparently his healing factor didn't prioritize surface abrasion for whatever reason. That'd be a bitch later, but for now he motioned to Callisto to see if they were close enough for confirmation on whether or not mutants were in the building.
Hand held up to keep her scarf in place, Callisto nodded, and moved closer to turn and talk into his ear. "Definitely in there," she said, "but I dunno how many - we can get closer and find out, or fall back and report; what d'you think?"
Wade paused, considering the most logical ways the armaments they'd been tracking would be useful. "We need to get closer," he said, shaking his head. They'd found manifests for heavy artillery in addition to weaponry for foot soldiers. "There's a reason all those weapons came here. We need to know what was worth destroying Muir for." And killing so many people.
Callisto nodded. "We should bear round that way," she gestured. "Better cover for getting closer, and I don't think there's anyone near those windows."
After checking their airborne support as best he could - the sandstorm was thick by necessity, after all, Wade led the way around the side of the building as Callisto suggested. Stealth wasn't really a problem, per se, given the wind and the pelting the sand was giving the shack, but it never paid to get sloppy.
They made it to the indicated windows with seeming ease, so Wade stationed himself a bit in front of Callisto and motioned that she should try listening. They had confirmation of mutants, but he wanted to see if they could get anything else. He made a bet with himself right then that this was the ridiculous above ground entrance to a massive, subterranean lair. It'd have to be because really - Google Earth.
Callisto was hunched by some barrels that provided at least some semblance of cover, eyes narrowed behind her goggles as she squinted at the building through the swirling sands. Thus she managed to duck out of the way when the nearest door to them swung open, and an imposing figure stepped out into the storm.
His tall, muscled frame was clad in lightweight leathers in a dark blue. He moved with that familiar coiled-spring stride that spoke of considerable physical capabilities - speed, strength - and he seemed entirely unbothered by the storm, to the point where he had exited the shack without any covering over his head or face.
That meant, of course, that everyone watching - Callisto, Wade, and those behind the binoculars in the look-out - recognised him immediately.
Apocalypse.
Verdant eyes flashed dark and fists clenched reflexively. An animalistic growl started building low in her throat as Rachel, now unmistakably Revenant, unceremoniously shoved Marie-Ange behind her with a fleeting thought, all of her focus now locked in on the mutant that had been the face of death and torture for her whole life.
Make-believe or not, Essex and Kwannon had been nothing but realistic in their world building.
And now her parents were dead again, Muir perishing with them. Matt was dead. Catseye was dead. Sam was dead. So many more dead and dying. Rows upon rows of headstones in a graveyard, marked with familiar names and spilt blood.
She would have screamed, but the murderous intent that settled over Revenant was an icy chill that seemed to burn the very air around her.
The images of past and present blurred together and the dull roar in her ears rose to a deafening pitch. Power built in her hands and underneath the pores of her skin as the grief she had ruthlessly suppressed bubbled up and frothed over in the form of incandescent rage and sparking waves of energy that rose and built itself into a towering tsunami waiting to crash into the face of the Apocalypse.
Underneath, as the telekinetic chaos raged, Apocalypse looked up, as though he could pierce the dust clouds. He examined the apex of the dust storm, gave a dismissive nod, and then gave an order to the men and women who had started spilling out of the warehouse.
Apocalypse's people had been pointed directly in the path of Wade and Callisto. Unerringly so. Uncannily so.
The bubble of calm dropped out from under Marie-Ange long enough for vertigo to set in, and then it returned, smacking her down flat under heavy pressure. Under the weight of Rachel's rage, it took intense effort to drag her arm up to her jacket, and retrieve the cards stashed there.
The squad of mutants was not met by Callisto's knives, or Wade's guns and explosives. They were stalled - by a heavy rain of enormous skulls that fell from the sky and splashed into chunky white ooze as they met the ground, people, and the warehouse.
"Hold positions," came the terse instruction over the comms. Glued to the binoculars back in the hideout, Ororo had spotted Apocalypse as soon as he had showed himself. What she couldn't tell through the whirling sandstorm - which she maintained despite the fact that their presence was obviously known - was what was happening to her team, except that it didn't sound good. She had a few guesses why that might be.
"Wade, get Rachel out of there - now."
"On it," Wade grunted, sprinting forward to meet the spot where Rachel and her TK bubble, complete with Marie-Ange, sat down. "Shit," he muttered, fully audible over the comms. It was like Rachel wasn't even there, wasn't processing anyone's presence but Apocalypse's. She dropped that bubble and started moving forward without blinking and Wade knew that look, he knew that face.
She sent people flying, trapped two different minions between opposing TK walls and smushed them like they were squishy toys for puppies, like they were nothing. "Storm, we're coming in hot," he said, coming up behind Rachel as she started making her way toward Apocalypse despite the skulls raining down on them - none of them touched her.
By extension, none of them touched Wade as he slid beneath the TK gizmo she had over her head. They'd trained together. They understood one another. She'd never expect him to do what he did next - straight up pistol whip her. She crumpled, Wade wrapping an arm around her waist, as he tucked her unconscious body into his side to protect her from the skulls now hammering down on them. "Retreating now. Thing One, Tarot, cover us - I've got extra guns if you need them. We need an out now."
Keeping the rain of skulls going and not hitting her teammates or herself meant Marie-Ange had nothing left to reply. She moved through the debris and goo on the ground, only a few yards to where Callisto had stationed herself, poised to cover Wade and Rachel's retreat, pointed to the warehouse, and the dropped a wax-paper wrapped package into the other woman's hands.
Callisto weighed the object in her hand, immediately realising what it must be. She lost no time before jumping to her feet and launching forward, long strides eating up the ground as she went, unheeding of the gore-covered skulls battering off her skinny frame.
The rain of skulls tapered off, the last few splattering the ground in one big pile. The mound of muddy dusty goo shuddered a few times, and then erupted into activity, becoming a skeleton army that split itself into two groups, one following behind a marching black-suit clad skeleton, and the other racing back and forth between the warehouse and a white-sheet draped shape that was almost canine.
Callisto had to hope that this was enough distraction that her actions would go unnoticed. As soon as she was within the range of her powerful arm, she ripped the paper from the transmitter and tossed it at the wall by the window of the warehouse. Mercifully, it stuck, because it was right around then that the mass of skeletal forms began to swarm nearer and she literally had to run over and through them to get out of their way, kicking one skeleton viciously in half as she made her exit, clothes and exposed skin thick with gore by the time she was running back toward the team.
***
It had been a difficult extraction - their cover blown, it was all they could do to get Rachel out without an incident or injury. Eventually they regrouped at a safe house in Alexandria and settled in to monitor the transmitter, which thankfully went unnoticed long enough for them to discern several other key locations in Apocalypse's plans.
Wade pulled a tattered map from one of the pockets on his tac vest and unfolded it on a table. He stole a pen from Marie-Ange and marked out the cities they'd overheard Apocalypse discussing. "Marrakesh, Cairo, Bangkok, Vaduz, Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte - a couple in South America, fucking Vancouver, what the hell. The guy's all over the damn place." He laid the pen down and rubbed his eyes, then went to check on Rachel even though he thought she might punch him for what he'd done.
"It would not put it past them to have mentioned some wild geese for us to chase too." Marie-Ange said from the other side of the table. "Cypher's little sticky transmitter bug should have destroyed itself cleanly but it is hard to confirm that. But it gives us somewhere to start, yes? What I want to know is, how is he not quite dead? I know who killed him, he should be dead. How is he alive and capable of this sort of destruction?"
"Sadly I believe finding the answer to that question will be secondary to trying to stop him enacting his plan, whatever it may be," Ororo murmured, leaning forward to peruse the map for a moment before standing and fishing the cell phone from her pocket. After stepping away from the group she was soon embroiled in a murmured conversation, the contents of which included the litany of cities they had just discovered.
"World domination," a quiet voice piped up, quickly followed by a loud crash as Wade hit the floor with a strangled sound before he could reach Rachel as the weight of her shield felled him to the floor hard enough for his head to bounce off of it but not enough for his ribs to crack as it pinned him from neck down. The redhead swung her legs off the couch as she sat up, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head as she glared down at Wade. Logically, she knew why she had been stopped, but the betrayal of an attack from a trusted ally hurt more than the sharp pain at the back of her skull. "Trite. Should have let me at him."
"War 101," Wade said, voice calm despite the ache in his shoulder where he'd hit the ground and the pressure on his chest from her TK shield. "Pick your battles if you can. If your sacrifice would have made a difference, sure. Go fight a guy you've got no hope of beating in his territory. You dying wouldn't have done us any good in the long run. You know that, same as me. One life for the greater good - absolutely. Not gonna let you waste it, though, chickadee."
The snarl that curled her lips was an ugly one, all teeth and rage, but the shield disappeared as quickly as it came as the redhead stood and stepped over him, ignoring the room as she swept into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
"And people say I have an attitude problem," Cammie grumbled, "Should she even fucking be here?" Cammie asked, jamming a thumb in the direction of the locked door, "She's going to get herself killed or worse, us." She was coming back from this, if only to rain revenge down on whoever was responsible for all the death in the first place.
"Teams will need to be reshuffled," Ororo told them tiredly. Had leading a team always been this much like playing babysitter? She was getting older while the rest of them seemed to stay the same age... Shaking herself out of her reverie, she took a deep breath and reached for her phone once more. "In the meantime, I want the rest of that information transcribed and sent to the other teams. We may be on the back foot but we are not going into this blind."
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