Witching hour had
shortly passed when Bernard Reynolds stood on the docks of a fishing port in
Virginia Beach, Virginia. The man he was supposed to meet that late night had
been late and early morning was rolling in. Similarly, mist and fog had rolled
into the shipping yard with a deep cold. The docks creaked slightly and
Bernard flinched slightly as a shiver ran over his body. He turned away from
the ocean waves and fog before him, looking over the wooden planks behind him
to see if his contact had arrived.
Nothing was there. Bernard sighed to himself, a bit frustrated by how the
night was going so far. He glanced back out over the seaside waters, just in
time for a movement amidst the fog to catch his attention. Bernard's senses
perked up and his eyes widened. Was he just imagining something, he wondered?
No, something was definitely out there in the distance, hidden deep in the fog
that enveloped the shipping yard.
Bernard slowly walked towards the end of the dock and narrowed his eyes,
focusing them on the fog as something was emerging. The fog was beginning to
part and he saw a man drawing near the docks, floating above the water.
Bernard had heard a little about the man he was supposed to meet that evening,
but was this him? He was supposedly enigmatic in behavior, but so calculated
and cold that he was not one to take lightly. As the figure of the man came
into better view, Bernard found himself lost in both a sense of panic and
bewilderment. The man floating across the waves of water was not alone.
Behind him were too men, one of formidable height and bulky with muscles and
another tall but skinny and lanky in stature. The man in the lead was of
impressive stature himself, but his most notable feature was his long and
bright red hair floating in the wind. As the three floated within feet of the
docks, the man in the lead grinned and made a gesture with his hand. Bernard
took it as a sign to make some space for him and his companions, and so took
several steps backwards to give them some room.
The lead man was the first to touch down onto the docks, his long red hair
flowing behind him as he descended from the sky. With a better view of the
man, Bernard noted mostly his rather distinguishing fashion sense. He wore
tight fitting, black leather pants, black boots, and a thin, tight fitting,
green long sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Across the
chest of the shirt was a gaudy, fiery red, bird-like emblem.
"Bernard Reynolds, I presume?" Addison Falk, leader of the terrorist
organization the Brotherhood of Mutants, greeted the man with a belittling
tone and cocky smirk. "So good to finally meet you in person."
"Uh huh," Bernard muttered with a nod. He glared at Addison and remarked,
"You're late, y'know? I've been freezin' my bejesus off out here..."
"Looks like you're doing just fine to me," Addison observed as he looked
Reynolds up and down. He dismissed the human's pitiful complaint and got
straight to the point. "Tell me... was the 'organization' you represent able
to fill my order?"
"Yeah, we've got the CSA mutant negator collars, all one hundred of them,"
Reynolds said as he continued to massage his arms for warmth. He breathed a
sigh of cold air and nodded to his left, towards a small house boat docked
nearby. "Tough find. We had to assign our best thief to get a hold of them."
"Oh?" Addison inquired, cocking his brow. He shot a look to his two
companions, nodding to them and pointing towards the house boat tied to a dock
across from them. "Well, if my men see that everything's in order, our
transaction will be complete."
Reynolds simply stood by as Addison telekinetically elevated his two
lieutenants, who seemed unmoved by their leader's actions, and they floated
over the water between the two docks to the boat. Addison set the two down
safely and they proceeded towards the entrance of the house boat.
"So, Mr. Reynolds, you're a hu-- " before Addison could continue, a high
pitched whirl caught him off guard. He shot a look towards the house boat just
in time to see a bright, pink and purple explosion fling the two from the
entrance of the boat.
"ARGH!" Omega Red and Chaos cried in unison as they arched through the air and
then crashed into the water the house boat rested in. Addison shot a look back
to Bernard Reynolds, but the man was gone from all sight.
Addison moved quickly to the edge of the docks he stood on and propelled
himself into the air with his telekinesis, taking one long jump through the
air and ending up on the deck of the house boat. He formed an invisible
telekinetic shield around his body and moved for the entrance of the boat, on
his guard.
At first, all that he saw were brown crates and boxes, marked "CSA: Fragile,"
stacked high all around the inside of the house boat, but his telepathy told
him someone was there. Addison maneuvered around the boxes and crates slowly,
keeping his eyes peeled for the assailant of his two men. When he moved to the
other end of the boat into the kitchenette area, he saw the person that he was
looking for...
There sat a man in a black body suit and a brown trench coat at the table in
the kitchenette, his legs crossed and propped up on the table. In his hand was
a glass with a clear substance and an olive in it, and the man rose the glass
up to Addison when he entered the cabin as if to toast his arrival.
"Addison Falk," Remy LeBeau smirked. "As I live an' breathe..."
"Many
of us crucify ourselves between two thieves
- regret for the past and fear of the future."
- Fulton Oursler
Come the
following hours on the outskirts of Salem Center, New York, sun rise began
for Scott Summers much like the witching hour ended for Bernard Reynolds.
The leader of the X-Men found himself in a faded, royal red bathrobe at
the edge of a dock leading out into a vast lake, staring out into the sun
rise through his trademark pair of ruby quartz sunglasses.
Behind him was the boat house his wife and him once shared together as
their home away from, and behind that several dozen yards of lawn that led
to that other home of his. The former Xavier Institute for Higher
Learning.
Like Bernard, Scott was waiting for a contact of his to arrive. But unlike
him, his contact was right on time and alone.
"Very Hugh Hefner in the morning digs, mon ami," a thick, Cajun accented
voice commented from behind Scott. "Those Playboy X-Bunnies scamperin'
'round the lawn back over there on my way in?"
Scott forced back a smile as he took a sip from his coffee mug.
"You're looking pretty punctual as of late, Remy," he said as he continued
to stare out into the sunrise. "A couple of years away from the mansion
give you a polite side?"
"Heh," Remy remarked with a smile. "Somethin' like dat..."
"How did last night go?" Scott asked as he turned around and walked
towards the table Remy was sitting at. "Any trouble?"
"Nah, everythin' went over smooth," Remy replied as Scott took a seat
across from him and set his drink down. Remy took a small device, the size
of a bean, out of his jacket pocket. "Hank an' Jeanie's little gadget
worked like th' proverbial charm."
"Good to hear," Scott said as Remy tossed the device at him. He caught it
in a fist and drew it up to his ruby quartz glasses, examining it for a
moment.
Hank McCoy had really outdone himself with this ingenious little piece of
technology. It was only a prototype, but the concept behind it was
brilliant. Hopefully the team could convince Warren Worthington III and
X-Corp to produce several more as time went by, but that was something for
another time.
The device fit in the ear, like a two-way radio of sorts, and whenever a
telepath read the mind of its wearer they only actually read the thoughts
being projected into the wearer's mind by a second telepath. In this case,
when Addison tried to delve into Remy's mind he only perceived what Jean
Grey-Summers wanted him to perceive.
If Jean wanted Addison to believe Remy was no longer loyal to the X-Men,
she could project thoughts into his mind that would reflect this, and that
Addison would pick up on. This would be how Remy could gain the
Brotherhood leader's trust.
"We've been waiting a long time for this," Scott finally broke the silence
with a sigh. He set the ear piece on the table, where Remy quickly scooped
it up, and continued to speak. "For Grey King to get what's coming to him,
I mean."
"You an' me both, hommes," Remy agreed. He shook his head, hanging it
slightly as he did, whilst he thought of recent events in contrast to his
departure from the X-Men. "Things of late... they've been openin' my eyes
some, y'know?"
"Are you trying to say we'll be seeing more of you around here?" Scott
asked, hunching his brows up at the former X-Man. "Chasing around some of
those Playboy X-Bunnies you were talking about?"
"Can't say that's in th' cards anymore..." Remy answered, dismissive but
delicate. He explained, "I'll lend a hand when an' where I can, but other
uh... business avenues... got my attention for th' foreseeable future."
"I understand," Scott said with a somber nod. Their ranks had been
depleted lately, but there was little he could do about that at the
moment. "So then, let's cut to the chase. Tell me about what happened last
night..."
"I know you," Addison said in realization. "Gambit."
"No need t' introduce myself then, eh?" Remy mused. He raised his glass to
Addison and raised a brow suggestively. "Martini?"
"I'll pass, thank you," Addison said as he moved around the wooden crates
to reach Remy, never breaking eye contact with the man as he approached
him. "You're the thief Reynolds was talking about, aren't you? You're one
of the greatest thieves in the world, for that matter..."
"Good t' know my reputation proceeds me," Remy said with a wild snicker.
He winked at Addison as he took a sip from his glass. "No?"
"It's true that a lot of the things I know about you I've heard through
passing, through people who know people," Addison admitted, his tone
prudent. "But I've also done my homework. You were once an X-Man."
"Once," Remy confirmed with a solemn nod. He looked down in his glass and
began to swirl the olive in his martini. He chuckled a bit to himself
slightly, then looked back up to Addison. "Now, when I heard dat the
leader of th' Brotherhood of Mutants was interested in my organization's
services... well, I just had t' jump at the opportunity t' be involved."
"Involved in what?" Addison inquired with a stern brow and he crossed his
arms, his eyes narrowing onto Remy's.
"Aww... Don't play coy wit' me, cherie," Remy said with a grin. He
playfully tapped the side of his head with an index finger. "I've done my
homework, too."
Addison fought hard to against it, but in the end he couldn't help but
match Remy's grin with one of his own. Something about the thief's
behavior and attitude in general was contagious, even for a telepath of
his caliber.
"You've been readin' my mind since you stepped on board of dis tug boat,
no?" Remy asked rhetorically. "It's why you didn't retaliate for the lil'
attention getter wit' your boys. You've been tryin' t'... feel me out,
right?"
"Heh," Addison remarked under his breath, still grinning. "That's right, I
have."
"An' do you like what you see?" Remy asked of the man's telepathic scans.
He lifted his feet from off of the table and leaned forward, setting his
martini down. "What do you think 'bout what I have in mind, hm?"
Addison had to pause for a moment and for that moment his body language
looked as if it was opening up, as his eyes were becoming warm and more
inviting to Remy's proposal as he continued to scan his mind.
"I think you're right in your frame of mind," Addison finally answered and
he slowly moved towards Remy. "Our two organizations can be very
beneficial to each other," he agreed softly as he leaned down onto the
table Remy was sitting at. Addison looked the Patriarch of the Thieves
Guild straight in the eye and smiled. "I think this war coming... I think
it's one we can win together. With each other's help."
Remy leaned up to Addison as he leaned down to Remy, seemingly locked in
the man's eyes, and Remy touched his hand.
"Wit' each other's... help..."
"Do I want to know what happened next?" Scott asked, a bit
unsettled by where the recap of the previous night's events had gone. Remy
just rubbed the tension from the back of his head and cleared his throat.
"Gettin' to de point," he said quickly, taking a piece of paper out from
the inside pocket of his coat and handing it to Scott. "Falk gave me dis
address - a junk yard in Virginia - an' asked me t' meet him there tonight
for somethin' big."
"That's what we were aiming for," Scott said as he looked over the address
and nodded. "I'll prep the rest of the X-Men and we'll be ready in a
support role."
"Another thing, hommes," Remy interjected, though somewhat hesitantly.
Scott looked up to him and had a feeling he knew what Remy was going to
say. "Them ideas you an' I discussed... I ended up talkin' to Falk 'bout 'em,
too..."
"I see..." Scott said as he bit his lip and furrowed his brow at Remy. "I
hope that won you some necessary points with him."
"It did," Remy assured him with a nod and Scott sighed. The two fell
silent again as they considered just what that really meant, Remy staring
off into the lake of the mansion's grounds and Scott staring into his cup
of coffee.
Addison was brutal, but he was also cocky and too overconfident for his
own good. Hopefully, both traits would buy them some time...
"Go ahead and get some rest," Scott said as he stood up from the table and
began walking back towards the mansion. "I'll see you tonight."
"Until then," Remy said to the wind as Scott's faded into the distanced.
He quietly looked out into the lake and the sunrise over it. "Au revoir..."
The back roads of West Virginia were mostly desolate this time of the
year. The occasional rice field, the occasional orchard... but the scenery
was mostly just open field to match the open stretch of road it
surrounded. Cars, motorcycles, and even semi-trucks were few and far
between along the country side. It was because of these facts that Jared
Corbo and Allison Crestmere, the two X-Men known as Radius and Magma, both
mixed feelings about the bus ride back to New York.
On the one hand, it was a peaceful journey. On the other hand, they were
often left alone with their thoughts to pass the time. After all they had
experienced since taking a leave of absence from the X-Men, sometimes they
wanted to escape the recesses of their own thoughts and turn cheek to
their personal demons.
As Jared had muttered once on their boat ride back from Cuba, they were
too young for this. But wasn't that life? They had spent most of the bus
ride from Florida on to New York in silence, occasionally breaking it for
little comments or requests here and there of each other. It was going on
six hours since they had last spoke to each other, and at least one of the
two had been alone with their thoughts for too long.
"Hey..." Allison said quietly. Jared turned to her and her eyes strayed
aside, then she looked back up to him with a hint of sorrow in her voice.
"We haven't really... talked about what's happened for most of this trip,
have we?"
"I'm sorry," Jared said with a slight sigh. He cocked a brow and squinted
his eyes, as if unsure of his next words. "I just have a lot on my mind,
y'know?"
"Yeah," Allison nodded in response and turned her attention back ahead of
her, crossing her arms slightly. She explained, "I've been thinking about
our roles in the X-Men, myself... and whether or not the costs are really
worth it?"
"Oh yeah," Jared said with a slight smile. He adjusted himself in his seat
and reached out to her, gripping her chin gently with a hand and pulling
her attention back to him. "I'm definitely with ya on that one, babe."
The two smiled weakly at each other for a moment and then both looked
away. Jared again adjusted himself in his seat so that he could put his
arm around Allison, pulling her in close to him. She rested her head on
his chest and closed her eyes, quietly contemplating their complex
relationship.
"Jared?" Allison asked in a whisper.
"Yeah?" Jared replied quietly.
"I..." Allison started to say, but then her eyes shot open and she
screamed a piercing cry. Jared and the rest of the bus passengers saw a
flash of light before they were suddenly overwhelmed by a massive, fiery
explosion.
For Jared, the next few moments were a blur and a foggy haze. He felt the
world spinning and it was as if he had lost all sense of hearing. When he
finally began to come to, he found himself outside... staring at the
orange and red tinted sky.
The sun was falling in the distance and there was the sound of something
rustling, something cackling. Jared gripped his pounding head and slowly
sat up, looking around him. There were dark black and brown lumps
surrounding him, as well as debris from the bus him and Allison were
riding in, all consumed in flames.
Whatever had happened, whatever it was that Allison had done, he was
seemingly the only survivor due to his mutant ability to constantly
project a force field around himself.
"Oh God..." Jared muttered under his breath as he looked over the mess of
scorching bodies. He stood up on shaky legs, his eyes wide in disbelief as
he ran a hand through his messy hair and yelled out, "Allison!"
Before Jared could begin searching among the bodies and call out to his
friend again, his automated force field flared to life as a blast of heat
washed over him. However mostly protected from the attack, the sheer force
of it sent him sprawling back onto the ground and skidding across his face
and stomach.
"That bitch is dead!" a voice declared. Jared coughed to himself, having
lost his breath from the blow, as he groggily rolled over onto his back.
He glared upwards, seeing the fiery silhouette of Amara Aquilla standing
over him as she raised a hand up to the air. A ball of blazing hot magma
appeared over her. "And now so are you, asshole!"
Jared's eyes went wide in a horrible sense of realization and his
instincts simultaneously told him to move and move fast. He scrambled to
his feet and darted out of the way of Amara's blast, running for the
direction opposite of her as the blast ripped apart the pavement he was
just laying on.
Was it possible that the Amara personality trapped in Allison had been
able to overcome her dominant personality? Jared didn't know how it
happened, if Allison hadn't been taking her medication again or what, but
her split-personality was back in full force. It had a grudge out for him
since first being unleashed and for the moment he didn't have any time to
think. He just knew he had to run.
Unfortunately for him, Jared wasn't able to get far before Amara was on
him. She cast several blasts of molten lava at him as he fled and Jared
cried out in pain as a blast struck him, burning through his clothes and
scorching the flesh of his back. He arched his back and collapsed, falling
flat on his chest.
Amara paused. She knew that after enough beating that Jared's force field
would collapse, but surely the bus' explosion hadn't taken that much out
of him. No matter, she thought as she approached his fallen form. He'll
pay for the way he treated her... for the way he helped oppress her...
Amara stepped on his back with her flaming foot, stomping her weight into
his wound and causing the burn to become more severe. Jared cried out
again, but he couldn't find the strength to fight back. Amara then
generated another lava blast in the palm of her hand, but before she could
release it into him, an invisible force stopped her.
"Not so fast there, Amara!" a familiar voice commanded. When Amara turned
around she saw the Grey King telekinetically descend from the skies.
"What the hell is this?!" Amara barked as she looked around herself and
saw the Grey King's most trusted lieutenants - Mercury, Chaos, and
Landslide - descend similarly onto the street around her and Jared.
"Falk..."? Jared groaned to himself under his breath, recognizing that
voice. It must have been him who had telepathically deactivated his powers
and then him who had held Amara back before she could finish him off.
Jared struggled to push himself up onto his hands and knees, but Mercury's
boot harshly dropped across his face and stopped him short, stomping
Jared's face back down into the cement. "Ungh!"
"Hurry up and get that negator collar on him," the Grey King ordered and
his two other lieutenants, Chaos and Landslide, surrounded the fallen and
powerless X-Man. He turned to the furious Amara and gave her a wicked
smile, proclaiming, "There's still some more fun to be had with this
one..."
Next Issue:
Gambit's spent months working with Cyclops and
waiting for his opportunity to infiltrate the Brotherhood. Now, that
opportunity is finally here! However, like all of the best laid plans,
things are bound to go wrong for someone....
