The man in the tuxedo stood on the landing and looked over the balcony to the party below. It was a birthday party of some kind and he enjoyed watching the people greet each other with their usual falseness, as it also gave him a chance to catch up with the so-called society people and he picked up a glass of champagne from one of the passing waiters. He'd much prefer a scotch to drink, but appearances were everything. He glanced at his watch, wondering how much time left he had before he met his date. About twenty minutes if he remembered the time right.

He'd had to pull a favour or two to get the location and setting right, as he had a lot to make up for. The things that had happened of late gave him cause for concern. He could feel himself falling for her, very slowly but he knew it was happening and he shook his head. Then he went to looking a mirror and he adjusted the bow tie before surreptitiously checking the area and making his way upstairs, taking more or less the same route he'd used to get in as he wasn't exactly invited, but there was something in the building that needed seeing to, and it was kind of personal. Actually, it was very personal.

A score needed to be settled, and he'd make sure that they knew it was him who'd settled it.

"Excuse me," said a voice and he shook his head slightly. So much for being careful and sneaky.

"Yes?" he said turning on the attendant. Rule number one of a situation like this was that if you acted like you owned the place you could usually blag your way out of it. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry, sir," said the attendant, chagrined and slightly taken aback by the tone and he knew that it had worked. "It's just that this is a restricted area. I'll have to ask you to make your way back down to the party." Or maybe not, he mused.

"What do you mean a restricted area. I was under the impression that it was an open house. Or is the invitation wrong?"

"I don't know," admitted the attendant. "Could I see the invite, Mr..."

"Wisdom. Peter Wisdom." Then he slugged the man, his fist connecting squarely with his unsuspecting opponent's jaw and the attendant spun and fell to the floor, knocking over a table as he fell. "So much for subtle," muttered Pete, thinking this had suddenly gone to hell. The next time he did this he was just going to kick in the front door and call the bastards out. "That's actually a good plan..." he said and he could see the attendant starting to get up and he knew that he was going to have to work hard to get to the person he wanted to speak to. The problem was his powers. Ever since the fight with the Katan, they'd been... wrong.

"Just like the old days," he muttered to himself, and booted the attendant in the gut, felling him again and went to work.

"You had be better be damn well joking."

"I'm not. If it wasn't for the crystal wave effect, I'd have been captured by X-Force."

"We are funding your little escapades to ensure that the super-hero community and the Commission for Superhuman Activities remain at odds with each other. If you cannot handle one group of mutants, then maybe we're backing the wrong man for the job. We can always replace you."

"I'm the only one who knows how the CSA works. I know their ins and outs, their rules, procedures and such. It's because we've been too successful that they've set SHIELD's per mutants on to us."

"Yes, but do not forget that we are part of the so-called super-human community as well."

"You were part of the community. Now, you're hell bent on..."

"Watch your mouth. You CAN always be replaced. Since the very beginning you and yours have been funded and supported by people like us. The name 'Sebastian Shaw' springs immediately to mind."

"Yes, and he ended up very dead. At the hand of one mutant, and I'm facing between three and six. They're not the usual foes. They've been trained and trained well. Wisdom by Black Air, Shadowcat and Siryn by Charles Xavier, Maverick by the Weapon X project. The others I'm not as familiar with, but they are formidable in their own right."

"Perhaps you have a point. Wisdom himself is vindictive and highly effective killing machine. I'll discuss it with my colleagues and, perhaps we shall send some... specialist equipment in to assist you. However if they get in your way again - eliminate them."

"Thank you."

"Thank me by doing what we're paying you to do." He closed down the channel and sighed. Perhaps taking on the rogue CSA man had been a mistake, but they needed to do what they could to keep the American's on the back foot and also ensure that Shinobi and his new Inner Circle could be clamped down on, should they wish it.

Joseph Chapman, Red and White King of the British Inner Circle, put down his glass of wine and prepared to go back to his party. His niece was 21 and the Hellfire Club was the best place to hold an exclusive event such as this one. He walked out of his office and in to the main meeting area of the Inner Circle and glanced at the monitors.

"What in heaven?" he said as he saw someone on the cameras, walking through the halls. The figure in the tux took out attendants, waiters, servants and anyone else who got in his way. Kicks, head butts, punches and back-punches were all being used to great effect as he causally walked through the building. "Enough of this," said Chapman and pressed the silent alarm to alert his men.

Whoever the fool was, he'd soon be taught a lesson about breaking in to the Hellfire Club. Then there was a thoom on the door. "How..." He looked back at the monitors and realised that the intruder was inside the outer chamber. There were very few people outside the HFC who even knew that there was another area behind a wall in that conference room, and whoever it was knew that the wall was really are door as the kicks continued. The door splintered open. "You?" said Chapman.

"Hiya, Joey," said Pete. "Long time no see."

"You're a dead man, Wisdom." Chapman was furious.

"So you keep saying to me, and you've not killed me yet. Move and I'll put a hot knife through your nuts."

"Your debt..."

"Is so fucking paid," said Wisdom. "There's no debt. Not to SHIELD, not to Lydia, not to me."

"The files you sent to us..."

"You should have left it alone, Joe," said Wisdom, walking over the Red and White King. "When you grassed up Fury, you took away my good nature. Yeah, I owe you and yours for what we did to you back in the day, but you did what you did to get one over on me, even though I was dead."

"At least I'll still have the satisfaction of killing you."

"Yeah, well, you can try. You come after me or mine again, you threaten them or do anything that pisses me off, I'll be back and I'll exterminate you and your rat pack once and for all."

"You work for SHIELD, surely they won't sanction that."

"You see me in a uniform, Joe? This. Is. Personal."

The two men stood facing each other, their eyes locked on to each other, the hatred between the two men evident. Then Pete heard the sound of footsteps.

"Yes, it is," said Chapman, hearing it as well. "Checkmate, Wisdom, or will you kill everyone in the building?" Wisdom adjusted his tie.

"Let's find out," he said and brought his knee up to Chapman's crotch and Chapman fell to the floor clutching his injured groin. "Oh, that's for being rude to my bird. Diss her again and, well, use your imagination." Then he kicked him in the head and turned to see the guards coming for him.

Chapman was right, he couldn't use his hot knives because they were different to the type he'd used before, stronger somehow and he knew that he would kill anyone if he used them. Which meant he had to run instead. He knew that they wouldn't be able to use missile weapons, but they would have batons and other blunt objects so they could only use them if they caught him so off he went, followed by the mob and he knew they'd cut him off from the stairs and the way out.

"Oh hell," he said as he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the little patch that Forge had issued to all SHIELD agents. It was some kind of communicator that apparently bonded itself to the skin and he put it on the back of his hand and pressed it. "Wisdom to Del Ruiz!" It was keyed to only certain members of the Directorate so he knew she'd get it.

"Pete! Where the hell are you!"

"Whitehall. I'm in trouble..."

"You said..."

"Can we do this later, babe, I need help."

"We're on our way," she said and killed the link as Peter raced up the stairs to find he was at a dead end.

"Oh, hell," he said again and he focused his hot knives on the door and the thing simply flew back under the attack. "I really have to get this seen to," he muttered as he went on the roof. He ran to the ledge and he paused a moment to catch his breath as he looked down. "No fire-escape? Damn, I've been in the States too long..." He looked up to the skies. Assuming that the guys got a jet they'd still be a couple of minutes before picking him up and there were a lot of very large blokes suddenly on the roof. "This isn't good..."

"How astute," said Chapman, appearing in front of them as they parted to let their master through, his voice a little ragged and one side of his face bruised to hell. "You've a choice - beaten to death or become a smear on the ground below. Either way, it's over."

Pete looked at them and then looked down below. He could use his hot knives to slow his descent, but that was before they punched through things instead of usually generating heat. The building over the road was too far to leap to, but it did have a flagpole sticking out. Maybe he could make that and hold on until the rest of X-Force arrived.

"See you round, Joe," he said took a run and leapt from the roof and Chapman hurried over to see Wisdom reach for the flagpole, and just get his fingers to it before he began to fall.

"See you, Pete," the Red and White King said and the watched in amazement as Wisdom fired a hot knife, which shot from his finger, looped and hooked on to the flagpole, allowing Pete to somehow swing and retract the hot knife back in, pulling him up to the flagpole level. "That's... that's..."

"Yo, Joe, close your mouth, your jaw's hanging a bit," Pete taunted as he gave him the finger as a transport flew overhead and a ladder cam down to him.

"You're a dead man, Wisdom! A dead man!" Chapman shouted at the SHIELD agent as he climbed in to the craft.

"Making friends?" asked Terry as she helped him aboard.

"Nah, just renewing an acquaintance," said Pete, as he dusted himself down and then he looked over to the black haired woman who was standing there in a dark blue evening dress, hands on her hips, waiting for an explanation. "Hey, Lyd. You ready?"

"You're an asshole," she said. "I asked you not to do go there, to not start anything. I mean, is that the whole reason you tagged along with us to the UK to find Citizen V?"

"Course not," said Pete. "Wanted to show you my capital city. Granted, while I was here..."

"No, you damn well didn't have to," she said. "They messed us about, true, but there's no point, no need to antagonise the Hellfire Club..."

"Yes, there is," interrupted Pete. "I don't care what side Fury's on now, as far as I'm concerned they pushed him there. Our debts to them is cleared. I told them as much."

"What the hell was that thing with your powers though?" asked Marcus, calling from the pilot's chair to stop the debate before it got heated. "Your hot knives..."

"Not a clue," said Pete, whimsically. "Something's changed though. I've more control and they're stronger, more solid. It's interesting, isn't it?" Then he looked out the window. "Set her down just here, thanks, Marcus. The lady and I have a date..." He offered his arm and Lydia shook her head.

"Why do I even like you?" she said, taking it as the craft set down just outside the National Theatre and the door opened.

"Must be my personality," he said as they walked down the ramp and in the direction of the London Eye, which was waiting for them to start a romantic trip around the wheel.

There was a knock at the door and Maverick opened it to see Kate standing there.

"Hi, Ki... Kate," he said. They'd not really spoken to each