Reavers, Part 5

[x-juggernaut.livejournal.com]

So THAT’S what that button does…

Half way there, Wanda was growing impatient. Not knowing whether it
was pure impatience from wanting to be there to help or a side affect
of her power being on and being used for the entire trip, she was
still anxious to get there.

Glancing down, she raised an eyebrow. Well, she always had wondered
what that particular button did. Steadying herself and the bike,
Wanda reached over with one hand and shrugged. It couldn't hurt.

An incredibly undignified yelp was torn out of her as the bike
suddenly jumped and seemed to double it's speed. Flailing a little,
she grabbed for the handle and then grinned to herself. 'Scott, I
never would have guessed.'

***

Remy and Lee give further directions, keeping track of everyone

"Nathan, de boathouse is a no-go. Got signals on de grounds still. You
hear me?" Remy cut into the com in Nate's ear, rotating Kuk's
isometric wireframe blueprints and scanning the routes. "Anyone hurt?"

"Damn it," Nathan muttered, signaling to Madelyn and Hank to stop
where they were. "Hank's got a few cuts. Maddie's fine. Alternate
suggestions for where I can leave them?"

"Just one... ah." Remy grinned as he rotated the map. "Nate, remember
dat time in Romania? De bioweapons conference? We going to do the same
thing." He called up the utility access tunnel and double-checked the
crossovers.

"That's not a reassuring memory. Specifics?" Nathan said tightly. He
could sense Moira, knew she was all right - but she wasn't
here, wasn't where he could see her, and if there were still
intruders on the grounds that wasn't an acceptable state of affairs.

"Unlocking the access tunnels. If you cut across under de Danger Room
access, it puts you in de north tunnel. Come out to de back of de
hanger which is sealed off. Just try not to leave an explosive dis
time."

"Hey, I've sworn off the Semtex," Nathan said, waving at Maddie and
Hank to follow and picking up the pace as he changed directions. "I'll
drop them off and leave them. You can lock the tunnels again behind
me. If we've still got signals on the grounds I need to stay mobile."

"Just don't play hero, homme. Got too many of dem already." Remy
grinned as they hit the cross-section. "Bonne chance."

***

In the midst of all the heroics, the newest X-Men trainees get a trial by fire


No matter how rehearsed or well-planned an evacuation, there was always
the chance of one or more of the younger students running to hide or
refusing to leave their rooms. Or sleeping right through the alarms,
as some had done in the past. Planning for that was only sensible,
because in the time between getting the students to the shelters and
completing the headcount, any number of catastrophes could happen.

So far, all the rooms had been empty, with no children hiding under
beds or in closets, no cross classmates demanding to know what was
going on, and no problems.

Kuk's fingers flashed over the keys, noting that the "war room" comms were active. "Operator," he intoned, using the default codename for the X-Men's communications liaison, "continue monitoring for away team response. Do me a favor and relay reports for the trainees that are scouting the upper floors. Drop to the bravo-delta net and maintain comms with them. Remember that everything is under control, you've been trained for this." Mr. Lee's voice was uncharacteristically reassuring, yet firm. "Drop to the B-D net in five. Kuk out."

Marie-Ange tapped the earpiece of her communicator nervously. Of
course, she thought, they would have something happen when half the
actual X-men were off campus. She'd much rather be in the shelter
counting heads than prowling the dorms. The minute she heard back that
all the students were accounted for, she was wasting no time in
getting there herself. This was nerve-rattling.

Calm. The guy on the comms should always sound calm. Even if he's
secretly wetting his pants. Doug tried to remind himself to breathe
normally as he sat in the comm room. He couldn't precisely keep his
foot from tapping nervously on the floor, or his fingers from drumming
manically on the desk, but he could keep that all out of his voice.
If the guy on the comms sounds panicky, then _everyone_ will panic.
"Comm check. Status report and head count," he said steadily. "Sound
off, people, tell me what's going on."

"The east wing is clear. No, ah.. . hostiles, no students." Marie-Ange
answered, as quietly as she could manage. "Someone should be calling
you with the headcount soon, I think." She'd been a bit too busy to
remember which of the older students took the emergency phone, though
she had a thought that it was Jamie. He did that kind of thing, and if
not Jamie, then Kitty.

Paige made a last sweep of her area, metallic eyes searching for
anyone left behind. She knew she was getting predictable with her
metal husk, but other than diamond, it was her best bet against any
stray knock out darts or bullets or whatever else they were using.
Marie-Ange and Paige had split up to cover the ground faster – their
coms made the possibility of being attacked and being all on their own
no longer a possibility, at least, not for all that long – and Paige
was now circling back to the place where they were going to meet up.

"I'm all good here," Paige said clearly, the blue of the lights
casting reflections on the wallpaper. "How are you doing?"

"Okay," Doug acknowledged. "Once you make sure the hallway's clear,
head back to the shelter. Gambit says the other hallways have already
been checked, and the X-Men are encountering hostiles in several
different areas. So keep your eyes open."

Marie-Ange couldn't figure out how Doug managed to sound so calm and
controlled when she herself was nervous and scared enough to want to
throw up. Of course, then again, he wasn't walking around the mansion.
He was perfectly safe behind locked doors. "No wandering students?"
She asked, cautiously. There was always the chance someone had been in
the bathroom or decided to do something dumb instead of evacuate like
they were supposed to.

"Surprisingly? No. Doesn't seem like anyone got the urge to be stupid
tonight," Paige replied, the soft metallic clink of her footsteps
momentarily deadened by a rug. Her tone was wry, but oddly enough not a
cover for nerves. She could panic and be angry at whoever was invading her
home later, when she was done. Right now she had a job to do.

Doug wasn't really sure himself how he was staying calm and
controlled. Yes, he was safe behind locked doors and not out in the
hallways where the invaders were, but at the same time it was
positively nerve-wracking to sit and wait while others, people he cared
about, were out there in danger. He kept an ear on the comms, but
tried to keep himself from chattering just to fill the silence. He
figured that it would start to become annoying, and if he was
chattering when something important happened, it could lead to
badness.

"I am heading back to the shelter then." Marie-Ange said quietly. ~And
getting out of this stupid -uniform-.~ She imagined she'd get used to
it eventually, but the jacket for the trainee uniform was heavy and
uncomfortable. More so over the pair of pajama pants and tank top she'd
worn to bed. She really envied Paige's metallic skin right now.
Bullet-proof and natural. And fashionable, but that was really moot.

The op had gone to shit. Granted, the old adage about a plan not
surviving contact with the enemy was a true one. But this went above
and beyond. Nothing seemed to be going right. Peeking around the
corner, Jennifer spotted the two muties moving down the hallway. One
looked human, but the leathers gave the lie to that. Unknown
quantity. The other one, however, had to be a metamorph of some sort,
given the metallic-looking skin. Raising her eyes to meet Frank, her
partner, she indicated the situation with a quick series of hand
gestures.

"Sounds like a plan," Paige answered with a nod. If everyone was all right
out here, there could be much better work done at the shelter, even if it
was making shadow puppets or her and Jay telling wacky stories about their
family to fill the time. "I'll follow."

~Stupid -bird-~. Marie-Ange shook her head with the thought, and then
snapped a look over her shoulder, catching the flicker of a shadow
retreating into the corridor. "Husk? I think we have a problem.."
She said under her breath. "The hall to the left, behind us."

As Marie-Ange hesitated, she flipped one of the cards she'd grabbed
from her dresser into her hand, pulling the image quickly out in front
of her. With no time to concentrate, it was small, half her height,
but even so, a three-foot clawed berserker was better than nothing.

Paige didn't waste any time being subtle, turning around and doing a mental
calculation in her head. She had more than enough time to take down
whatever was behind her without rehusking; better not to risk Marie-Ange
slicing herself up on the shards. "I see them. Shall we?" she asked, her
answer in the form of a little Logan. Well, more little than normal.

Jennifer and Frank ducked around the corner after a silent
three-count, Jennifer rolling across the hall so that they could both
cover the entire spread of the hallway with their rifles. Except,
again, things had gone to shit. Somehow the two muties had heard them
coming and were headed right for them.

Marie-Ange wasn't taking any chances. She sent the little simulacrum of
Logan towards the smaller of the two intruders, and ducked into a
doorway to stay safe. They had guns, and Kevlar jacket or not, she
knew all too well what getting shot could do to her. Besides, the
little image seemed to be doing all too good of a job being
intimidating, despite its tiny size, even managing to produce a soft
'snikt' sound as it extended its miniature claws.

Paige's new team member seemed to be three feet high, but at least
Marie-Ange was safe. Smart girl. She'd have to remember to add that to her
report. Spreading out her arms in a 'come and get me' gesture, Paige
grinned and attacked, kicking the man of pair's rifle out of his hands with
ease. It was one thing to know about mutants, or even know there was a
metal girl around the corner. It was another to come face to face with one,
especially when they seemed to have assumed she'd be facing the other
direction.

"Fall back! Disengage and fall back!" came the call over the comms.
With a venomous curse, Jennifer and Frank broke off the fight almost
before it had a chance to begin, grabbing their weapons and sprinting
for the entryway.

Marie-Ange blinked. "Well, that... went well." She said quietly. "And
my poor little berserker did not even get to hit anyone." And in
truth, the little image looked terribly sad just before it faded away.
"Did that make any sense to you, because it made no sense to me. Why
did they run?"

Paige answered Marie-Ange's blink with a slight tilt of the head. "Perhaps they were very, very intimidated by my superior glaring skills?" she asked, jokingly, before giving a little shrug to indicate she had as little idea as her partner. "Oh well. Less damage to the wallpaper. Comm central, there are a pair of hostiles that have retreated from our position and are heading towards the main entry. We are continuing to the shelter." Paige found herself at Marie-Ange's shoulder and smiled. "Come on, let's get back. If the kids are really lucky, 'comm central' might not be too busy and he can relay Buffy jokes to me so you and I can do a skit of skit fun. Oh, you're excited, I can tell."

--

Doug wasn't quite sure who had come up with the excessively lame
trainee code names, but his first lesson about comm protocol had been
on the use of codenames rather than actual names, because you could
never know if someone else was listening. "Gambit, this
is...ah...Lexicon, in the comm room. Come in, Gambit," he said,
feeling like an extra in a spy movie.

"Negative. No Lexicon on de file. Got a Cunning Linguist. You sure dat
you're not him?" Remy said absently as Kuk shoved him aside long
enough to engage a new sensor cycle and break the cigarette Remy was
trying to light.

Doug made a mental note to have Remy's email program call him
something particularly vile after this was all over. Rolling his
eyes, he keyed his mike. "Roger, Gambit, you're a regular laugh
riot," he said sardonically. "Cunning Linguist here. All the younger
students are in the shelter and accounted for. Husk and Palette made
a final sweep through the student rooms. Encountered two hostiles,
but were able to handle them. Husk and Palette are now on their way
back to the shelter."

"Bien. You got a clear path dere yourself." Remy double checked the
hallways. "Best get moving now, CL. You done good."

"Roger, Gambit. Taking a laptop down with me to keep an eye on the
comms for you from there if needed." Folding the laptop under one
arm, he strode toward the door, happy to be actually moving and doing
something. Soon enough he'd be in the shelter, and then it'd be time
to hurry up and wait again.


***

Back on Muir, the away team finds… nothing?

This was odd. Frowning, Scott cast another look around the mess
that... well, whoever had been in here had left in the main office,
and had to conclude, for about the sixth time, that something was
definitely off.

Had it been vandals? There were papers strewn all over the place and a
few of the doors had been very clearly broken down. Consistent with
vandalism, although there were no lurid anti-mutant slogans
spray-painted on the walls, nothing to suggest 'political' vandalism,
or that the building had been targeted for a specific purpose. Kids,
maybe?

There were certainly no signs of anything more serious. As far as
they'd been able to tell, nothing had been stolen. The computers were
all intact and none of the safes had been breached. No missing files,
which was what had really concerned him at first when they'd walked in
and seen the mess. None of the unpleasant possibilities he'd been
entertaining on the plane on the way over seemed to have come true.

Casual vandals, then? Casual vandals who broke into a reasonably
secure building and then got away cleanly... Scott's frown
deepened. It didn't add up. Something about this just didn't...

"Cannonball," he said, glad that Sam had headed back to the jet once
it had become clear that there was no immediate threat here. "Patch me
back through to home. I don't know what's going on here but
something's fishy."

A quick call back to the mansion on the X-Jet's communication system
wound up eliciting an unusually sulfurous curse from Sam. "Cyclops,
hot-foot it back to the jet on the double, sir. Ah just got in touch
with the mansion, and they said they're under attack."

Scott blinked, and then snarled a curse of his own. "Son of a bitch, I
did not just fall for that... Polaris! Colossus!" he snapped out to
the other members of the team, who were busy checking out the rest of
the building. "Back to the jet! Now!"

Well. He supposed the afterburners were going to get a workout tonight.


***