xp_logs | Trojan Horse, part one - Aim For The Heart (Moira, New York, Monday morning)

After her appointment with Strange at Columbia to discuss Amanda and some of the remaining issues surrounding Asgard, Moira heads back to her car, to call Nathan and arrange to meet him for lunch. She doesn't make it.

Moira peered up at the sun and smiled a little as she walked down the sidewalk. The talk with Stephen had been interesting and she was glad they had gotten together to discuss things in the wake of Asgard. And on top of that, and everyone being back and safe, it was an absolutely gorgeous day out. Now she was glad she had to park in the visitor's lot in the back; it was too nice day not to waste some of it outside.

Reaching around, she instinctively touched her waist where her cell phone usually was but then remembered that the clip had broken, so she had left it in the glove compartment. Ah, well. Once she got back to the car she would get it out and call Nathan to let him know she was done. Then they could wrangle over the details of where he was meeting her for lunch. He would surely be done with Manuel by now.

"Excuse, me, ma'am?" The young woman coming towards her was wearing an apologetic look and carrying what appeared to be a campus map. "I, um, seem to be kind of lost, here."

Stopping for a moment, Moira raised her sunglasses to her hair and shook her head. "Sorry, lass, I'm only visitin'." She pointed behind her. "'owever, if'n ye go ta tha' buildin', I'm sure someone there can 'elp ye." Smiling, she dropped her sunglasses and started walking again.

"I am such a flake," the girl said mournfully, shaking her head. "You'd think I'd be able to find the main admin building..." The breeze caught at her map, snatching it from her hands and blowing it towards Moira. "Oh, shoot," she cried out in aggravation, chasing it.

Remembering her college years, Moira stopped and scooped up the map. "'ere ye go," she said amiably.

"Thanks," the girl said with a grateful smile, reaching out to take the map. "You're really good not to laugh at me, Dr. MacTaggart." Before Moira could react, the girl had a firm grasp on her wrist. There was a crackle of energy, almost like a shock that passed between them. The girl's smile never wavered. "If you try and pull back," she said, her voice low now, "it'll hurt. A lot."

Moira suddenly went very still, feeling the hair on her arms rise up do the surge of power from the other woman. Mentally, she ran through people she knew with a power like this but no, this person was entirely unknown to her. Fear rose up but she firmly pushed it back down--now was no time to panic. She stared unwaveringly over the sunglasses at the person gripping her arm and waited.

"You'll come with me," the girl said calmly. "Arm in arm, like we were old friends. Or I will zap you and then my friends will have to kill anyone who sees us." She shook her head. "We did it once, here," she said, almost in a whisper. "Won't be hard at all to do it again."

A cold shiver ran up her spine. Mistra. "Fine--I mean, ye kill innocents once, must be a breeze after tha'. Lead on, McDuff, I'll follow." They must have a telepath; otherwise, there'd be too much chance of her contacting Nathan. Moira cursed herself heartily for not having her cell phone or her pager on her.

The girl linked her arm through Moira's, some of the youthfulness falling away from her face. She couldn't be more than mid-twenties, at the outside, but her eyes were much older. "If it's any consolation," she said quietly, leading Moira towards the parking lot, "we don't particularly want to hurt you. And we certainly don't want to hurt him. If killing him was all we were after, it could have been done years ago."

"Oh aye, tha's bloody comfortin' ta know," Moira muttered darkly, running through some mental exercises in her head. Not only to calm her down but also to hopefully make it a little harder for any telepath out there. She knew that rhyming the perodic table drove them nuts. "Instead, ye threaten me, threaten innocents--but aye, I feel so much better inside now tha' ye've told me tha'."

The girl just sighed, sounding almost pained. And petulant, as she went on. "None of this would have been necessary if he'd just stayed where he should have. If you want someone to blame, Doctor MacTaggart, don't be pointing fingers in our direction. Him running away like that... you don't run away from your family and leave them in the lurch."

"I would refrain from tryin' any o' tha' on me, lass. Some 'ome, some family." Quietly, she scanned the area. The girl's mutation was obviously a type of electric shock, powerful from what she had threatened her with. If there was something she could ground her on or disrupt her powers, maybe she could make a break for it.

"I'm not trying anything on you, Doctor," the girl said. "I just figured I'd let you know what the facts were. He's coming home, and they'll fix what's wrong with him." She stepped off the curb and into a puddle.

"I'd say there's somethin' wron' wit' ye lot, nay 'im." As soon as the girl had stepped into the water, Moira stepped so that she avoided it, gaining a little bit of awkward space. With a yank, she slide her arm free and jumped backwards, ignoring the startled yelp of the girl as she turned. Water, the girl's powers and a little bit of cocky attitude--she watched as the power turned on and winced as it arced into the water, hitting the mutant and not her. Not looking back, she turned and bolted for her car, the keys already out, doors unlocking as she hit the button. Honestly, she had no idea if she would make it, just that she had to try.

There was someone standing at her car. A face she knew, both from the footage of the attack here and Nathan's nightmares. "Don't," Morgan said quietly. His exoskeleton was nowhere in evidence. "Please don't," he said as she took a step back. "Our telepath is suggesting that no one notice you, or the rest of us. If you cause too much of a disturbance, he won't be able to do that anymore. Then I will have to order the rest of the team to start killing witnesses, Doctor MacTaggart, and I do not want to do that."

He almost sounded like he meant it. Moira froze, unsure of what to do. She risked a glance behind her and saw that someone was helping the now unconscious woman out of the puddle of water. She looked back at Morgan, face drawn. "Surprised yer nay doin' tha' now," she rasped, straightening and holding her head high. "Look at th' earlier slaughter--Morgan, is it? Aye, tha's wha' 'e called ye. I stand down, ye dinnae kill anyone. But ye get yer 'ands on Nathan. Lovely."

"It's up to you," Morgan said after a moment. "Trust me when I say you aren't getting away. It's just a question of how much collateral damage there is in taking you, and that is entirely up to you." He straightened, moving away from the car and raising his hand. Moira saw that he had her cellphone. "If you come with us quietly, we can call him and get this done with in an hour."

"Bastard," she spat but tossed her car keys at his feet. Of all the times she desperately wished she had a weapon, now was one of them. "Trust me, if I could put meself between a bullet an' Nathan bein' taken back, I'd do it." Moira meant every word of that and she could see it startled Morgan a little bit.

A car pulled up, a black SUV that even to Moira looked armored. "Come on, then," Morgan said quietly, jerking his head towards it. "Get in."

Turning, head held high and as straight as possible despit her fears, she walked towards the van. When the door opened, she shrugged off the hand that grabbed her to pull her in. "I'll get in me damned self."

---

"Oh, aye, this is a lovely way ta instill confidence in someone," Moira snapped, glaring down at the ropes that bound her to the chair. For August, the abandoned warehouse was actually rather chilly and she snorted. "Bloody 'ell, I feel like I'm in a damned movie...so verra, verra cliche." Running her mouth not only kept her brain working but it also staved off the fear that was crowding into her brain. Fear for her life and for Nathan's. She squirmed a bit and then sighed. "Well, at least ye watched enough bad movies tha' ye remembered ta tie me in tightly."

One of her captors - there were only three in the warehouse with her at the moment, she didn't know where the rest had gone - turned and glared at her. He was young, early twenties maybe, with a blond crew-cut and strangely irridescent blue eyes. "Would you shut up?" he said almost incredulously. "It's not part of our orders to listen to your mouth running off, bitch."

She tilted her head to the side and eyed him. Throwing them off guard was always a good idea. "Oh, did yer orders jus' include kidnappin' a world renowned scientist an' threatenin' mass mayhem?" she asked, faking cheerfulness. "'ow verra easy it 'tis ta kill innocent civilians but God forbide ye listen ta a Scot run 'er mout'."

One of the others, a slender, dark-haired man wearing sunglasses even in the dimness of the warehouse, shook his head warningly at the crew-cut. "Don't," he admonished, but sounded hesitant about it.

Crew-cut didn't seem inclined to listen. "Shut the fuck up," he growled, stalking towards Moira's chair. "We're following orders. You're just making it harder on yourself."

Glaring up at him, she smirked. "'ow much 'arder could it be, really? 'ere I am, tied ta a bloody chair, in th' middle o' a bloody abandoned warehouse, bein' used as bait ta capture me boyfriend." Her eyes narrowed. "Youn' man, trust me, I'm goin' ta do everythin' in me power ta make ye regret kidnappin' me." A part of her was quietly chanting that goading the men in power was a bad idea but she tuned it out. Disorder was the best, and only, weapon she currently had.

Crew-cut gritted his teeth and hit her across the face, hard.

"I said don't!" the dark-haired man said loudly as Moira reeled.

"Fuck you, Adams," Crew-cut snapped. "I'm not sitting here and listening to this."

The chair rocked slightly from the force of the blow and Moira kept her face turned away for a minute, gathering her wits about her. Her jaw ached from the blow and she knew she'd have a nasty bruise from it. Turning her head back, she looked up at him for a second, feeling the blood in her mouth from where she had bitten her cheek to keep from crying out.

"If I 'adnae already said this--go ta 'ell." With that, she spat a mouthful of blood and saliva on him. Unfortunately, it didn't hit him in the face, he was too far away, but it did hit him.

Enraged, Crew-cut suddenly went for her--as she had hoped he would. The chair had already been knocked off center from the first blow and as soon as even a little bit of his weight touched it and her, she pushed hard against the ground with her feet. She couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph even as her head hit the concrete floor and she saw stars--he'd gone flying over her and crashed against an empty metal barrel with a howl of pain. There had been a surge of terror as she had felt his hands graze her throat. She couldn't help but think she was going to pay for that.

Though the stars were kind of pretty.

Someone was there suddenly, pulling her chair back upright with her in it. "Doctor MacTaggart?" It was Adams, peering down at her with all evidence of real concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'll answer properly once ye stop bein' two people," she gritted, closing her eyes tightly.

"Case, Morgan's going to kill you," Adams said with a sigh, bending over to take a look at the back of her head. "And if he doesn't, someone else will when he's back in his right mind."

She winced when his fingers brushed the back of her head, surprisingly gentle. "Great, probably gone an' given me daft self a bloody concussion," she muttered under her breath. "'ope tha' bastard got th' same." Shades of anger and fear were lacing through her words and she tried to steel herself again.

"Don't move around too much," Adams said almost soothingly. "I'll get you some aspirin or something from the medkit."

Moira glanced up at him, surprised. "I'm goin' ta go on fait' an' assume they're nay cynide pills," she remarked, still incredibly leery of the man in front of her.

He smiled at her, almost sadly. "Wouldn't do that," he said quietly. "Cable shows up to find your corpse and we're all dead. That sort of defeats the point." He turned, heading over to the SUV they'd come in.

She snorted softly and then winced. That had _not_ been one of the brighter ideas that she had ever had. Though, as Case, walked around her, holding his arm and muttering pained filled curses, she couldn't argue with results. With everyone away from her at the moment, she let out a shuddering breath and then ran herself through some calming exercises. There would be time to break down later, she reassured herself, but now would not be that time.

A heavy hand came down on her shoulder. "Think you're terribly clever, do you?" Case growled softly, coming around in front of her again. His eyes were glittering, almost glowing.

"At times, aye." She blinked, trying to stop her vision from blurring. "'ow's yer arm?" she asked sweetly.

"Just fine, bitch." Keeping to the side of the chair, he crouched down until he was at eye-level. His gaze swept down over her, assessing in a way that made Moira deeply uncomfortable. "I suppose you're good-looking enough," he said, sneering. "A little on the old side, though." He rested a hand on her upper leg. "You ask nicely, we might give you the chance to say goodbye to him before we leave. Morgan's soft that way."

"Touch me an' I'll bite verra sensitive bits off," Moira retorted, showing her teeth when she smiled. She ignored the rest of what he said, keeping her mind tightly away from that.

"You're very like her," the third man, the one who had been sitting on a crate, his eyes closed, said suddenly. He was older by at least ten years than Case and Adams. Unprepossessing-looking, but the intensity in his eyes as he met Moira's eyes was startling. "Aliya, I mean." Case glanced at him, as if surprised that he'd spoken up.

She glanced back and forth between the two men, not wanting to take her eyes off of Case for long. "I'll take tha' as a compliment," Moira replied, swallowing. It was very obvious where Case and Adams stood, but this other man was a mystery to her.

#You should,# his voice echoed in her mind. #She was a remarkable person, and he loved her very much.#

The voice wasn't very loud but Moira still winced as her head pounded. #From wha' I've 'eard--aye, she was.# It hurt to respond but she assumed he didn't want Case to overhear this part of the conversation for whatever reason. #Ye may want 'im ta back off. Any closer I'll break his bloody nose wit' me 'ead.#

"Case," the telepath said, aloud. "Away from her, now."

Case glowered at him. "You're not a field operative, Simon," he snapped. "Fuck you." He turned on Moira, pulling back a little - out of headbutting range - even as his hand clenched around the collar of her shirt.

"Case." A different voice, coming from over by the doors. Morgan's eyes were very wide, very flat as he moved farther into the warehouse. "You have your hands on our prisoner," he said, very calmly.

Moira glanced between the two men, eyebrows raised. "Did 'ave, attempted ta 'ave an' now does," she corrected him, calmly, staring down at Case's arm. "Aw, ye were lyin' ta me, lad--looks worse than wha' ye were sayin'. May want ta get tha' looked at, jus' in case."

Case snarled at her, then looked back at the older man. "Morgan--"

The name was barely out of Case's throat before Morgan switched on his exoskeleton and an enormous clawed hand grabbed Case, tearing him away from Moira and hurling him at the opposite wall of the warehouse. Case hit the wall hard, falling into a pile of crates.

"You stupid little shit," Morgan said just as flatly, floating in the heart of the twenty-foot tall exoskeleton as it advanced on Case. Adams, who had just been emerging from the SUV, stayed where he was, almost frozen.

Moira suddenly felt very cold and she watched the scene wide-eyed. "God," she murmured, that ball of fear uncurling itself in her stomach. A vague part of her felt guilty but she knew that this was how it would have unfolded, even without her commentary.

Case staggered back to his feet, bleeding and obviously shaken. "Fuck you!" he snarled back, his eyes as incandescent as the rage in his voice. "You play the big man all you want out here in the field, Morgan, but once we get back..."

Morgan grabbed him again, the clawed hand lifting him up off the ground. "Once we get back, what?" he asked, his voice deadly quiet now. "You and all your little second-gen buddies are going to jump me in the hall and teach me some manners?"

Despite her growing horror at what was happening, the words 'second-gen' jumped out at her and she frowned. Mentally, she filed it away for later, trying to absorb whatever she could in case it could be of some help.

"Morgan," Simon said quietly from where he was still sitting down. "This isn't productive. She's not badly hurt."

Adams moved back towards her, a medical kit in hand, and a look of fear in his eyes as he kept glancing towards Case and Morgan. "I... have that aspirin," he said, looking utterly miserable.

"Thanks," she murmured, before glancing back up and gathering her fear to put back in its normal place for now. "I think I did more damage ta 'im, 'onestly," Moira offered.

"I should let him kill you," Morgan was saying to Case, still holding him in mid-air. "I really should. Don't think I wouldn't. And don't think they won't. Once he's back where he belongs and the problem's been fixed, they're liable to give him just about anything he wants. Particularly if it's the life of a stupid kid who's not worth a shit in a fight anyway." With that, he slammed Case against the floor, hard, and deactivated his exoskeleton. The younger man moved slowly, trying to pull himself back to his feet, and Morgan gave him a bleak, threatening look. "You stay away from her," he said warningly.

"Well, tha' was--'ighly educational." Jokes were good. Really they were. Moira turned back to the one holding out the asprin. "Unless ye plan on feedin' me those, I am goin' ta 'ave ta 'ave me arms free." She rolled her eyes at his look. "Please, I gave meself a bloody concussion an' I jus' saw wha' yer boss can do, I doubt I'd be goin' anywhere."

"Give them to me," Morgan said abruptly to Adams, turning to come over. The younger man flinched visibly, and Morgan's expression softened slightly. "It's all right," he said quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Go patch up Case."

Adams, taking the rest of the medkit with him, moved off to where Case was still getting up, and Morgan knelt down in front of Moira's chair, undoing the ropes around one hand. "I'm sorry," he said simply.

"My professional opinion is tha' youn' man needs 'elp," Moira said dryly, rubbing her wrists when she was free. The ropes weren't tight enough to cut off circulation but they were stiff and painful. She reached up and touched the back of her head, wincing. "Bloody 'ell."

"Adams? He's new," Morgan said, handing her the aspirin. "Case is just..." He stopped, his eyes sliding back to Simon, who didn't appear to be listening. His expression was warier, when he turned back to Moira. "I'll get you some water," he said, rising.

On the other side of the warehouse, Case snarled suddenly and lashed out at Adams with a flash of bluish light. Adams stumbled backwards, but regained his balance and went back to tending Case's injuries without a word.

Moira stretched slightly but didn't bother looking around. As she had already acknowledged, unless there was a miracle, there would be no slipping away for her. Not under the current circumstances. Instead, she watched the interactions of her captors and tried to absorb as much information as she could about them. It was obvious as Mistra operatives what they wanted but their personal goals seemed different.

#Of course they are,# Simon's voice said in her mind. The telepath's eyes were still closed, his face turned away. #Ask Morgan about Nathan.#

Again, another eyebrow raising but she stayed quiet and waited until Morgan returned with her water. "Thanks," Moira said, a bit roughly. After taking the asprin, she looked up at him, measuring. "Why? Why now, why Nathan?"

"We need him back," Morgan said, crouching back down beside her chair. His posture was strangely protective. "It's not been the same since he left." His eyes flickered back to Case and Adams.

"Why are you talking to her, Morgan?" It was the girl who had approached Moira in the parking lot, entering the warehouse from a side door. She looked angry, if rather more in control of herself than Case had been.

"Don't make me smack you down too, Beth," Morgan said, not looking at her.

"Mutants who are nay immune ta their own powers need ta watch where they step," Moira muttered quietly enough that only Morgan would hear. Though Simon probably would have picked up on it, but he kept quiet. Her gaze went back to Morgan. "'e was important ta ye, then?" Blunt and straightforward, it was the only way she knew how to be.

"Yes," Morgan muttered, his eyes distant and lost suddenly, as if he was contemplating something he'd prefer to avoid.

Beth swore, energy crackling around her. "Get away from her, Morgan," she snapped viciously. "So much for the vaunted first-gen self-control.... she gets you all weak and nostalgic with a few words?"

Adams drifted back in their direction, leaving Case stalking back and forth beside the opposite wall, growling to himself. "Don't," he said, almost pleadingly, and Moira realized just how young he was. "We shouldn't fight amongst ourselves..."

"He's right, children," Simon said aloud, still not opening his eyes. "Settle down."

She tilted her head and regarded the most troubled ones. "My, I've caused such a ruckus," she commented, taking another sip of her water, eyeing Beth sharply. She returned to watching Morgan. "I dinnae think 'e ever mentioned ye, when 'e talked 'bout this place."

Beth made an aggravated noise. "I'm going to go keep watch with Piers and Foley," she snapped, stalking out of the warehouse. Adams merely stood there, looking uncertain, and then wandered back in the direction of the SUV with the medkit.

Morgan let them both go without a word. "He taught me," he said, his voice very low, barely a murmur. "How to use my exoskeleton. Lots of other stuff, as well." There was something close to anguish in his eyes for a moment. "We need him," he said, his voice full of loss, barely audible. "Just look at us, without him."

Moira eyed him and sighed. There was a lot going on here that she didn't understand, clearly. "I can understand why ye'd want 'im back," she said, almost gently. "But 'e doesnae want ta come back - why cannae Mistra understand tha'?"

"We need him," Morgan said again, unhelpfully, his expression going neutral again as he got up, moving away. Over to the SUV to talk to Adams, she saw.

#Do you think he'll come alone?# Simon's voice said in her mind.

#'onesly? I dinnae know, depends if 'e runs out by 'imself.# She shrugged and rubbed the back of her neck to release tense knots.

#It would be better if he did,# Simon went on, his voice curiously gentle. #I'm blocking your link. You won't be able to give him forewarning on anything you see. If he comes with some of the X-Men... Morgan's team won't be this... dysfunctional if they're faced with combat, Doctor.#

Moira's eyes tightened. #I figured ye had blocked the link. 'Tis--empty, right now. No 'arm in filin' thin's away, now is there?#

#It won't change anything.# Simon almost sounded sad. #This has to happen. I'll make sure you have a chance to say goodbye, I promise.#

#...thank ye but I will see 'im again. Tha' I'm sure o'.#