Reavers, Part 3

[x-juggernaut.livejournal.com]

While Nathan navigates his way around the Reavers to provide assistance, Alison channels her inner Hong Kong Action Star in the kitchen


He had his shields all but down, so that he could get as clear an impression as possible of where everyone was. The intruders were still difficult to pin down, but he could sense some of the kids, the other staff members... Moira, safely out of the mansion already. He touched the link in brief reassurance - and then froze, reaching out a hand to stop Alison as they reached the lower part of the stairs.

#A group of kids,# he sent telepathically. #Still evacing, and that feels like two of our hostiles on their trail.#

#Well. That won't do.# For all that it was sub-vocalized, it wasn't hard to guess at what Alison thought about that particular concept. She slid down against the wall and leaned a bit towards the hallway - not enough to be seen, but enough to listen intently. #They're heavy. Heavier than they should be. Can't hear the kids but I can hear them all right.# A pause. #So we should give them something else to follow. If I can get to the kitchen and get them to follow me… Think you can multi-task? Nudge them along after me, fetch trackers from storage downstairs?#

Nathan frowned. That wasn't just telekinetic multitasking, but telepathic, as well. #You'd have to move fast,# he sent, already planning it out. He'd have to hold doors shut. Misdirect them using the blurring trick... which he hoped to hell would work, given that their minds were impossible to really grasp. And getting the trackers at the same time was going to be a real challenge. It didn't even occur to him to question what Alison was thinking, in terms of the trackers. There was no doubt whatsoever about their ability to evict the intruders from the premises, as far as he was concerned. Finding out where they'd come from was worth a little extra mental sweat. #I can get them turned around. Trackers might be tricky - I'll have to work blind. And I'll have to stay here until they're almost to the kitchen. I'll be juggling too many things at once.#

Alison just nodded, shifting her weight and getting ready to move. The kitchen wasn't far off - but neither were the intruders, whoever they were. #If we can get them to the kitchen it's good. More to my advantage than theirs.# The plethora of reflective surfaces alone would be a serious tactical bonus. Being nimble and fast would be to her advantage too in those kind of close quarters. And both Scott (and more recently Haroun) had always been about the fact that using your environment to your advantage was a good thing. #I'll set up in the kitchen, give them time to walk by you and get tagged. Then send 'em in and we'll just surround them.#

They just had to make sure that in no way the fact that the intent to let at least one of the bugged intruders make a break for it would be obvious. That was all.

There was a nice big bay window in the kitchen for their rabbit or rabbits to make an easy escape from, too. Nathan nodded, taking a deep, slightly unsteady breath and sitting down on the stairs. #They feel like Haroun,# he said, reaching out to the minds of the two intruders. The Askani murmured at the back of his mind, and he drew a mental hand over the strangely patterned, static-laced thoughts, blurring them like a drawing done in the sand.

At the same moment, he started to pull doors shut telekinetically, cutting off any possible alternate routes. Left is right, he thought at the two confused intruders, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead already as he projected the suggestion.

And they turned. Nathan gave a tight, fierce smile. #Move,# he sent to Alison, even as he diverted some of his telekinesis, feeling along the walls for a ventilation shaft. He needed one that would give him a free path to the storage room downstairs where the trackers were.

Moving without hesitation, Alison left the stairwell and headed for the kitchen, careful to make things easier on Nathan by sticking close to the walls, not stepping obviously into sight but still moving as quickly as possible. #Security? Nathan is liberating a batch of trackers from storage. Keep an eye on those via cams and make things easier for him if you can, please.#

More reports on the probable capabilities of their impromptu guests filtered through, some of them very interesting indeed. Sliding in the kitchen, confirming no one was there, Alison eyed the fridge and grinned, faintly. Pots and pans hung on one of the walls, moonlight reflecting on them, as well as the stainless steel appliances humming quietly in the room.

Carefully, Alison cracked the door of the refrigerator open - and reached inside to keep the light from turning on, before sidling closer. Heat sensing equipment wasn't all that useful, if someone wasn't hot enough to register on it, after all.

Left is right, you sons of bitches... The anger made it easier to focus, brought a certain clarity and energy that was more than welcome. They were going to find out who had sent these bastards and make them very, very sorry for it. Nathan closed more doors telekinetically as the intruders moved down the hall, then split his concentration even further, focusing on their weapons.

No gunfire, he thought fiercely. None at all. It didn't take much to jam the guns; that at least was a trick he'd practiced for years.

The trackers... that was harder. He was working entirely on his visualization of the storage room and the ventilation system, using the tactile nature of his TK with a focused intensity he rarely reached. Even Lee murmuring over his com, providing him with the occasional helpful bit of direction, didn't make it much easier.

And... damn it. The intruders were starting to notice that they were feeling confused.

#They're hesitating.#

Those words were enough and Alison reached out, deliberately tapping a finger on the top of the nearby stove - the light metallic sounding 'ping!' carrying through wonderfully in the enclosed area of the kitchen. #Cable. Hope you'll have those trackers ready soon. I should have their attention now.#

Her concentration entirely on the task at hand and the fact that yes, she was going ambush more than one person at a time here (though hey, with Nathan stepping up they would have them surrounded), Alison made a mental note to thank whoever had bought the fridge. It was wonderfully big. Hopefully she wasn't going to dent it too badly, or else Lorna was going to kill her.

#Coming,# Nathan sent, unable to keep the strain out of his mental voice. Not dropping the trackers. Just not, damn it. Nathan gritted his teeth and levitated them around the last few turns of the ventilation shaft and through the nearest grate, several meters to the right and down the hall.

They shot through the air and to his hands, just in time. The intruders came around the corner, clearly intent on the kitchen. Tracking the noise Alison had made. Nathan glanced down at the tracking chips and they floated over to attach themselves to handy, unobtrusive spots on the intruders' gear. The two moved obliviously to the kitchen and Nathan rose silently to his feet, preparing to follow.

#Tag,# he sent to Alison - and then stiffened as a flash of frantic, familiar thoughts hit his wide-open mind. Madelyn. Running - being fired on? #Fuck! Not everyone's out of the medlab, and we've got hostiles down there, too - can you handle this on your own?# And was that Hank, moving towards her?

A chill went down her spine and Alison's eyes narrowed, the door holding the refrigerator handle tightening until the knuckles turned white. Madelyn would be down there. It was her shift. #Go. Now. Your priority is the medlab until all are evacuated and the lower level areas are sealed and cleared.# She knew the more critical areas would probably chomp on anyone trying to get in, but the medlab wasn't as secure. #I'll handle things here or call for another back-up if I need to.# And with that she tilted her head to the side slightly, adjusting her plan. Taking out one from the start would be nice. And she had a fair idea, spotting the pan on the wall ahead of her, facing the entrance, of how she would do it.

The Reaver stepped into the kitchen, night-vision scanning from corner to corner. The open refrigerator was causing the thermal vision to streak, so he motioned for his partner to switch over to light enhancement. With quick hand signals to convey intent, he circled one side of the small island in the center of the kitchen while his partner covered the other.

Neither expected the blinding flash of light that seemed to come from every reflective surface in the mostly stainless-steel kitchen. Disengaging his imaging enhancers, he backed up and turned, blinking to clear his vision-

-just in time to see the freezer door slam forward into his face. Blood sprayed from a broken nose as his sight-dulled eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the floor.

Kitchen Door To Head On Winter Night. Clearly she'd been watching too many Kung Fu movies. Except for the fact that clearly, using appliances in combat worked. Wonderfully well. Not wasting any time even as the ridiculous line crossed her mind, Alison turned, tracking the other - a quick look confirmed it - cyborg. Very obvious cyborg. With something big and nasty and entirely gun looking generally starting to point in her general direction too.

There was a serious lack of being happy with the bedazzled state of affairs, and Alison barely had time to swing herself around the open door, kicking against the central islet to land on the other side of the fridge with the very firm intent to use it as cover, bouncing unceremoniously off the downed man on the floor in the process. Note to self. Do not shoot the guy you actually want to let make a getaway.

The standing Reaver looked down at his comrade, who was moaning and twitching on the ground. Blinking back the last of the spots from his vision, he swung his rifle across the kitchen, spraying rounds aimlessly and drowning out any other sounds with the noise of automatic gunfire. He activated a quick "man down" signal, and was surprised when the report code came back ABORT ABORT ABORT.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, sending a quick alert message over the net to the nearest cyborg. "Get Williams out of here while I ventilate this bitch." Raising his rifle, he leaped on top of the kitchen island, murder showing in his mirrored chrome eyes.

The roaring of gunfire brought a delighted smile to Alison's face, despite the situation and the fact that the ricochet was doing very nasty things to the kitchen, the panels of the cupboards shattering from the impacts, several of the pans on the wall falling to the floor with crashing metallic sounds. Williams. She had a name to put to the face now - as dented as it was. And thanks to the still resonating echoes of gunfire, enough overhead on power to start going on the offensive.

Light shimmered into being around her and shifted into solid light, sheathing her body and following her every movement. She stepped out from behind the severely shot up door of the refrigerator, now hanging pathetically to the side as something hissed in the background and took aim for the rifle.

Williams blinked as the image compensators went into overload trying to process this being of luminescent brightness that came into his field of vision like some wingless angel. His tracking systems were going all kinds of wrong, so he switched them off. "Some things have to be done the old-fashioned way," he grumbled, raising the gun. To his knowledge, angels weren't bulletproof.

As soon as his finger hit the trigger, light flared in his vision. A scintillating laser shot across the room, straight down the barrel of the rifle, melting the bullet before it could leave the chamber. Physics continued their course, and the resulting gas pressure blew up the rifle, taking three of Williams' fingers with it. Screaming, he clutched his hand to his chest, rolling to where his backup could see him. "Evac! Now!"

Well, of course they were going to evac, Alison narrowed her eyes at the man, though the results of the laser fire would have her feeling rather queasy once this was all over she knew. Still, it wouldn't do for them to think it was intended that way, or to make things too easy. She slid her foot underneath a nearby skillet on the floor, giving it enough swing in the upwards motion to catch the handle neatly in hand - and turned to hit the one she'd laid down earlier upside the head. "Sit. Stay."

The sound of footsteps running down the hallway was hard to miss, Alison cocking her head to the side slightly as she flipped the pan up and caught it again, changing her grip on the handle for a backhand swing, still able to hold the light shield a bit longer without an external power source. Come on, warn your buddy I'm about to bash his head in as he makes his grand entrance. She lifted the pan for a swing, actually keeping an eye on the one whose rifle she'd shot out and preparing to duck out of the way of whatever his back-up would bring to bear upon entering the kitchen.

The third Reaver rolled expertly across the doorway, noting Alison's position and staying well out of harm's way. Looking down at his two comrades, his mouth turned down in a frown. A second passed in silence, then he ducked back as Alison threw the pan at his head, while throwing two small canisters underhand.

The first bounced off the rack of pots on the ceiling, rolling to the floor and belching out thick, greasy smoke. The second rolled across the stove and began sputtering into sparks and molten metal, the thermite melting its way through the stainless steel.

Reaching out to grab both fallen men by their collars, he barked orders into his collar microphone, hauling them back to the retreat point.

The path of the thermite bomb followed with slowly widening eyes, Alison tracking the rest of its progress through the smoke by memory. The sound of metal being slowly dissolved cinched it. The stove. Going to go boom. A look across the kitchen brought to bear exactly how ravaged it had been in the last minute or so, and Alison decided that the people currently making an exit could break the damn window on their own in order to make their escape.

She was so dead. With a whimper of dismay, she poured everything she had into making the light shield close to her body even more solid as she scrambled away from the stove and towards the doorway leading into the hall.

***


One eye on the computer monitor, and the other on the door, Madelyn typed
in the last set of commands that would lock down the medlab's servers. One
of Hank's security measures, set in place after Stryker's attack - once
engaged, there was no accessing the information on those servers, even if
you were a hacker of the caliber of Kitty or Doug. Hank had actually gotten
them to test the system several times since, to no avail and both students'
frustration. The lockdown engaged, Madelyn relaxed slightly; at least now
the sensitive medical and powers data on both the computerized and hardcopy
files was safe. The hard copies were in the safe hidden in the medlab's
small morgue, and Madelyn mentally blessed the security policy which
ensured no files were left on anyone's desks, for the sake of patient
confidentiality - there was no way she'd have had time to chase down
extras.

Quietly she rolled the chair back and stood, sneakers soundless on the
metal floor as she crept towards the door and hazarded a cautious peek out.

Time to go.

***

Hank was hurrying through the tunnels, trying to concentrate. Someone was
in the Mansion, and Maddie was still in the Medlab. That was bad. She
didn't have any powers, or proper training... she might get hurt. He knew
Moira had been worried about him, that was why she'd evacuated him along
with the patients and kids, but being sick hadn't made him any less strong.
If he could find Maddie, he could protect her until she finished doing...
whatever she was doing... and then they could go back together. Yeah. Good
plan.

***

The coast was clear, for now... Silently Madelyn slipped out of Hank's
office, heading for the escape tunnel that wasn't far off the junction
leading to where Cerebro was. But halfway down the bare hallway she heard
voices, brusque and businesslike, and unmistakably military-sounding.

'Shit.' Madelyn froze. The voices were coming from behind her, where
the elevators were, and for a moment she hoped they were heading for
anywhere but this hallway. But that was a faint hope, since there wasn't
really anywhere else to go, and there were only two reasons invaders would
be in this part of the mansion - the medlab records, or Cerebro. And she
was caught between.

The thought spurred her into action - just as the two men entered the hall
she took off running, heading for the exit. There was the sound of a shot,
and something pinged off the wall ahead of her, and instinctively she
ducked into the first doorway she came to - the exam room. Panting, she
looked around frantically for an escape, even though she already knew she
wasn't going to find one. She'd gone and gotten herself trapped. Still, it
wasn't over yet.

***

Hank had gotten lost! He'd never gotten lost in these tunnels, ever before,
but this time he had. He'd had to stop thinking about it, just let his feet
take him, before he found his way again. But he was nearly there. Nearly to
the Medlab. He hoped Maddie was still there... finding her would be really
hard if she wasn't.

That was when he heard the shot. Someone was SHOOTING! In the Mansion!
Maybe in the Medlab!

Maybe at Maddie.

With a growl that was almost a roar, he charged towards the secret panel
leading into the corridor. NOBODY was going to hurt Maddie!

***

"Hold it right there, chica," said a Puerto-Rican accented voice, halting
Madelyn as she was apparently looking to climb up onto the exam table in an
effort to reach the air conditioning vents. She froze, hands going up of
their own accord.

"I'm unarmed," she said, voice as calm as she could make it, perhaps just a
little fear creeping in. "I'm not a threat - you don't have to worry about
me."

"We'll be the judges of that," said the voice. "Turn around. Slowly. And
keep your hands where I can see them."

Carefully Madelyn did as she was told, wearing her best 'helpless
female' expression. "I'm a doctor here," she said as she turned, taking in
every detail of the pair - for there were two of them - standing in the
doorway. One seemed to be fairly ordinary, as commando types went ? classic
fatigues and rifle, although closer examination revealed his headset and
goggles were in fact attached to him, grafted on somehow. The other was
something else altogether - dark green leathers not unlike the X-Men
uniform (and wasn't Madelyn itching for one of those with the body armor
right now...) a knife belt bristling with blades across his chest, and the
biggest frigging gun Madelyn had seen outside of a Terminator movie. But it
was his face, an expressionless skull of chrome steel, that caught her
stare, and she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her back. "I'm
harmless - I'm human, no powers, and no weapons."

"Well, pardon us if we don't take your word for it," sneered the
skull-faced man, revealing himself to be the one who had spoken first.
"Hogan, frisk her."

"With pleasure," the other man said with a leer, slinging his gun over his
shoulder and moving forward.

Hank had managed to stifle his growls, moving as fast and as silently as he
could... right up until he saw one man standing in the doorway, and another
moving towards Maddie. Maddie, backed up against the exam table, unarmed...

With a roar, he knocked the man in the doorway aside, barely noticing
him, and grabbed the one who was reaching for Maddie. "NO!" He yelled,
slamming the man as hard as he could into the wall. He hit with a thump,
and fell down very satisfactorily.

"Well, that was stupid," a voice said coolly from behind him, and Hank spun
to face the other threat... and yelped as a thrown knife grazed his
shoulder.

Wincing a little, he tried to stay between Maddie and the skull-faced man.
"Leave her 'lone," he growled. He might be having a lot of trouble
thinking, but anyone hurting... or even scaring.. Maddie was definitely
something he wasn't going to let happen.

"Hank!" Madelyn winced as the knife hit his shoulder, but moved back -
getting herself crushed wouldn't help either of them. If the exertion
didn't exacerbate his condition - they'd established exercise made him
worse. She started heading for the equipment, hoping in the confusion she
wouldn't be noticed.