Sean sighed and slowly stood upright, biting his lip.

"In due time, old friend," he said, patting the man on the shoulder gently before walking away and nodding to the tall, bald agent. "In due time..."

The bald agent unsheathed a combat knife from his belt and stormed up to the restrained man, grabbing him by the burlap sack and twisting his head to the side. Before the captive could try to struggle against his assailant, the agent stabbed him deep in the shoulder and twisted the blade.

It was then that screams of agony filled the warehouse for what wouldn't be the last time that evening.

"Bring in the telepaths," Sean ordered Layton as he approached him, his back to the resuming torture. "Time is of the essence here. We need that information out of him by dawn and for all we know, he may be able to resist us for days."

"Those psi-blocking implants they put in him are going to be difficult to get around without hurting him," Layton tried to explain, skeptical. "Even our best telepaths would need weeks. It's quicker this way."

Sean shook his head with a scowl. "Rip his mind to shreds if need be!" he barked with the wave of his hand. "Just get the information out of him before we have to leave."

"Yes, sir," Layton replied with a nod as Sean walked away with his security escort. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and activated the walkie-talkie feature, speaking into it. "We have our orders. Send the telepaths in."

Phoenix's eyes shot open and she gasped, sitting up right suddenly. She had been laying in the scattered and flaming remains of the X-Men's Aurora jet in an empty field for lord knows how long. Broken consoles, sections of bulkheads, and engine parts surrounded her on all sides.

It was either late night or early morning depending on how much time had passed since the Aurora jet was rocked by a missile in flight between Washington, D.C. and New York. She had lost consciousness sometime when the jet was overcome with turbulence and spiraled out of control towards the ground.

How she had survived was anyone's guess.

"Scott? Hank?" she called out as she slowly brought herself to her feet, looking around frantically for her husband and longtime friend. The sounds of rustling debris caught her attention and she looked to her right, spotting movement several feet over.

"Right here, Jean," Cyclops sighed as he shuffled upright from his stomach, grunting and patting himself down. Likewise, Beast groaned loudly as he pushed a pile of metal sheets and engine debris off of him several down from the two, then eased himself up onto his hands and knees.

"Present and accounted for," the blue furred scientist begrudgingly reported, surveying the damage around them. "I must say, bravo on the crash landing, fearless."

Cyclops cleared his throat, his eyes shifting side to side uncomfortably behind his visor. "Um, wasn't that you who brought us down, Hank?"

Beast turned around to face his teammate, brow furrowed and cyan pupils expressing uncertain  "Sadly, I... err... ahem... think I passed out from sheer terror."

"I blacked out, too," Cyclops said quietly, before quickly speaking up to clarify. "Not from terror or anything, but... from something..."

"My telekinesis cut out and I lost consciousness before I could do anything," Phoenix stated reluctantly, putting one hand to her forehead and the other on her hip as she stared to the debris littered ground. She tried her best to understand what happened and why, but her mind was drawing a blank and she sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry."

Cyclops bit his lip and nodded to his wife slowly, equally dumbfounded. He turned away from Phoenix and Beast and walked out of the debris, wanting to take a better look at the surrounding area. For certain, they were in a large field in a rural part of the country, and in a short distance to the east was a vast and outreaching orchard.

In the meanwhile, Beast found himself sifting through the remains of the Aurora before coming upon one of the jet's seats. He took hold of it and pulled it out from underneath a console, examining the harness that hung from it. Looking up the stars high above, he quipped, "Our lord and savior, George Cayley... were you watching over us tonight through this wonder of nature you have bestowed upon us, the safety belt?"

Cyclops made an annoyed look on his face, not quite appreciating Beast's brand of humor as he tried to clear his head and think of the team's next move. Arguing with him was out of the question, so it was likely best to let him amuse himself and then they could move on. Still, the stress was getting to him.

"I have so many questions to ask of you," Beast continued melodramatically, possibly to only his own amusement. "Why? Why are we here on this terrestrial sphere rotating at an average orbital speed of approximately 107,218 kilometers per hour?"

As if answering his questions, the orchards and grass begin to whip up in powerful gusts of winds and the sound of several loud, swift propeller blades overwhelmed the area. Five helicopters seemingly rose from the orchards and descended upon the wreckage site's airspace high above the open field, garnering the startled and undivided attention of all three X-Men.

"Wuh-oh," Beast remarked at the sudden appearance of some potentially unwanted company. The spotlights at the head of the helicopters came to life, falling upon the three X-Men and the remains of the Aurora as the five helicopters fell into a circular formation, surrounding the three overhead. "Cayle... inventor, scholar... is this your idea of a practical joke?!" Beast shouted to the heavens in response.

"Jean..." Cyclops called out, narrowing his eyes behind his visor onto the helicopters overhead. He didn't even have to ask her who they were.

"I can't get a read on anyone up there!" Phoenix shouted over the sound of the helicopters as their multiple spotlights danced over the three of them. "Either those are automated helicopters or the crew's wearing psi-dampeners!"

"Shit," Cyclops muttered, clenching a fist. He shot a look to his wife and friend, pointing to his head. "Establish a psi-web between the three of us! I need you both to stay on my thoughts and follow my plan exactly!"

Phoenix did as she was told and in an instant the three X-Men were in each other's heads. Phoenix and Beast suddenly grew very alert as Cyclops's plan became clear to them, their attention shifting to the wreckage of the Aurora.

"Let's do it!" Cyclops commanded over their psi-web as he ran towards the jet's wreckage to pick a piece. Phoenix and Beast grabbed the largest pieces of wreckage that they could carry and began to scatter across the large field in different directions, knowing that they but mere moments to act if Cyclops's plan were to work.

In the lead helicopter circling the X-Men's crash site, six men awaited their orders near the hatch. Five of them, including the pilots, were dressed in identical black military fatigues complete with combat helmets, kevlar vests, and assault rifles. They were apart of the Byron Agency's assault unit, tasked with tying up loose ends and taking care of potential problems, and after it had been discovered that the X-Men had been in contact with Valerie Cooper they had been assigned to take them out.

The only passenger who stood out, a man in a dark blue and gold, full-body, insulated suit and mask stared anxiously out the rear window of the helicopter. The X-Men were circling the field, standing up large pieces of wreckage into seemingly random spots, instead of fleeing into the orchards like they had anticipated.

He pressed a finger to his ear, activating the communications line in his suit. "What the hell are they doing?" he asked, on edge.

{{ I have no idea, but we need to force them into the orchards for the ambush to work, }} another man's voice replied over the line.

"But what if they don't plan on retreating?"

{{ We have fire superiority. They'll be gunned down in minutes, either way, }} the voice explained, its owner losing patience. {{ Sit tight and let us handle it for now. }}

"We've been stalling for too long," the passenger insisted, shaking his head. "Let me down there so that I can take care of them!"

{{ No, first I want to see what they're up to. Then we'll position you to strike when they least expect it, }} the voice countered, ending the discussion with the passenger before addressing the rest of the crew. {{ Fast-rope descent, you're on! Go! Go! Go! }}

Phoenix grunted as she jammed a large, flat metal panel into the field's moist ground, standing it upright and tall. The panel was taken from the remains of one of the Aurora's wings, as per her husband's instructions, and seemed to be one of the sturdiest pieces left of the jet left in the wreckage. It was difficult to be sure if the panel would hold in place for what Cyclops had planned, and her telekinesis had seemingly abandoned her since the crash, so she had to use every ounce of physical strength and weight in her body to force it down into the ground as far as it would go.

Confident the panel was sturdy, Phoenix stood up straight and wiped the sweat from her brow before picking up another panel from the Aurora's wreckage and starting off into a sprint several yards away from her current position. Similarly, Cyclops and Beast were spread about the area with panels and blocks of debris, and together the three of them were all positioning the wreckage in a circular pattern. If the panels and blocks had been mirrors, they would all perfectly capture and reflect the image of any individual standing directly in the middle of the field, and that's exactly what Cyclops needed.

From the helicopters high above the field, the pilots and passengers could see that the three X-Men were doing this, but to what ends was anyone's guess. The operation's commander was becoming increasingly uneasy and when they were all in position, he sent the command for the assault teams to move in and either kill the three X-Men on sight or drive them into the orchards to be ambushed.

And so they moved in. The hatch doors on the sides of the helicopters slid open, black repel ropes were flung out and unrolled in the air, and one shy of twenty armed men began their fast-rope descent to the field below.

"Here they come, Scott!" Beast reported over the three's psi-web as he bounded across the field, securing each panel and block of debris quickly and firmly. Phoenix looked up and saw the descents, as well, and stopped to look in Cyclops's direction.

Cyclops finished positioning his last panel and shot a look up to the helicopters high above, then bit his lip. He looked around the field and took a deep breath, cocking his head to the side as he prepared to brave the impending battle.

"Alright, that's good enough!" Cyclops commanded as he moved away from the panel and positioned himself outside of the circle of wreckage. "Fall back to your positions and hold as best as you can until I tell you move in."

Beast and Phoenix uniformly dropped their last pieces of wreckage, abandoning them in the field, as they moved out of the circle they had helped form. The circle was broad and large, encompassing almost the entirety of the field with its eight panels and blocks taken from the Aurora's remains, but more importantly the armed mercenaries were forced to repel from the helicopters into it.

Many hadn't given it a second thought and why should they? Even if their targets were mutants, the mercenaries were well-versed on their powers and abilities, and they were well-equipped with psi-dampeners, assault rifles, body armor, and manpower to take them on in a direct confrontation. As they slid down their descent lines and touched down in the middle of the field, drawing their weapons in all directions and beginning into runs towards their respective targets, their victory had seemed evident.

If only they had known of a seemingly more obscure talent possessed by the X-Men's leader and expert tactician, Cyclops.

*ZAKT!*

*ZAKT*

*ZAKT!*

*ZAKT!*

Cyclops's optic blasts ricocheted off of all eight of the panels and blocks taken from the Aurora's degree and cut across the inside of the circle as planned, striking each and every last member of the assault team. The X-Men's leader had tamed his optic blasts so that they would not penetrate or severely injure any one individual, but they were still powerful enough to throw the armed men about the field and render some of them unconscious on impact.

Many cried out in pain, fired bullets aimlessly into random directions, or both as they were bombarded by the onslaught of the powerful, red force beams. They had been told of the X-Man's ability to project large, wide, thin, and multiple optic blasts and to use them effectively in battle, but his mastery over geometry, dimensions, angles, ricochets, and trick-shots was truly uncanny. It was one of the criminally overlooked talents he had possessed and it had cost the X-Men's enemies many battles, including this one.

As the last of the assault team fell, Cyclops released his grip over his visor and looked to Phoenix and Beast in their holding positions surrounding the field.

"Okay, they're down!" he said telepathically over the team's psi-web as he ran into the circle they had formed, wanting to pick off the remaining conscious members of the assault team before they could recover. "Hank, quick, get us one of their radios so we can follow their movements! Jean, see if you can get off one of the foot soldier's psi-dampeners and read their mind. I want to know why they're here! I'll cover you both!"

Their orders understood, Phoenix and Beast entered the fray and went to work.

Back in the tactical team's lead helicopter, the last passenger was knelt down low by the open hatch, hanging onto its edge as the battle below was coming to its quick end. The helicopter was maintaining its position high above the field when a call came in over the passenger's radio.

{{ The assault failed. We can't drive them back into the orchards! }} the operation's commander reported over all teams' communications lines. {{ We're calling the orchard's teams back to base and abandoning Plan A. }}

"What do we do now then?" the passenger asked as he watched the last of the Byron Agency's tactical team fall to the X-Men.

{{ Plan B. All gunships take aim and fire on the X-Men! }} the operations commander ordered in response over all radio lines. {{ Give the mercenary enough cover to get in there and get the drop on them, then fall back and await orders! }}

"It's about damn time," the passenger grumbled as he pulled his hooded mask over his head and straightened it out over his eyes, then grabbed his modified FN P90 submachine gun and loaded it. He turned to the helicopter's pilots and yelled out to them, swirling his free hand around. "Circle around 'em and drop me off! Let's go!"

On the ground, Beast stood crouched low ontop of one of the fallen mercenaries, using a foot to pin down his enemy's arm as it reached frantically for an assault rifle just out of reach. He held the end of a combat radio to his ear and listened intently, overhearing most of the conversation between the passenger and the Byron Agency's operations commander, as well as the ensuing chatter that followed between the several helicopter pilots and co-pilots as they coordinated.

When most of the conversation was over and radio silence was initiated, he shot a panicked look to the helicopters as they began to move into position and their gun turrets went online, then shot another more urgent look towards Cyclops.

"They're moving into attack formation! Something about Plan B?" Beast reported over the trio's psi-web. Cyclops turned away from the fallen assault team members and saw the helicopters fall into place.

"That's it then, I'm taking down the helicopters!" Cyclops said as he put a hand to his visor and sized up the helicopters in relation to the makeshift deflectors they had made out of the Aurora jet. "Alright, Hank. Get Jean and take cover by the wreckage! Now! Get under the bulkheads if you can!"

"I just got one of the psi-dampeners off of this enforcer, though!" Phoenix said, paying only half attention to the mechanical buzzing of the first helicopter's dual gun turrets. "I'm probing his mind now and accessing his memories of their mission briefing..."

The gun turrets let out a loud whine as the first helicopter's pilot opened fire on the X-Men, churning out a flurry of hot lead down the center of the field. Beast flung the combat radio aside and bounded towards Phoenix as per Cyclops's command, sweeping her off of her feet and continuing on towards the wreckage.

"Cover now, cranial dissection later, m'lady!" he quipped aloud as he positioned her over his shoulder and they fled the rain of bullets.

Cyclops acted fast upon the initial gunfire and unleashed a thin, but highly focused, optic blast towards one of the makeshift deflectors. The blast ricocheted off of it and shot upwards at an angle into the first helicopter's tail rotor. Its gearbox exploded as the blast cut through it and its destruction sent the helicopter into a slow spinning, smoking spiral out of the attack formation. While the pilot tried his best to compensate for the loss in control, the helicopter ultimately reared off towards the orchards and caused the other helicopters to break away from it, causing the desired distraction. One helicopter in particular had boosted up and began to maneuver around the field sharply, heading towards the orchards' horizon as the others merely tried to maintain formation.

The X-Men's leader didn't stop there. As the other helicopters attempted to regroup and the first one crash landed in the orchard nearby, Cyclops ran towards the east-center, makeshift deflector. The first helicopter to stabilize dropped its spotlight on him and led out its first hail of bullets, trailing across the grassy field behind Cyclops as he ran towards the deflector. When he came upon it he fired another thin-focused optic blast, striking the piece of debris a quarter-inch from its center and causing the blast to bounce past his left side into the west-center deflector.

Just as the attacking helicopter's gunfire was about to come upon Cyclops, his optic blast ricocheted off of the second piece of jet-debris at just the right angle and ripped through the helicopter's left-hand gun turret. Moreover, the optic blast was powerful enough to destroy the gun turret, but only shove the nose of the helicopter up and to its right where its right-hand gun turret continued firing. A third helicopter had just balanced out and its pilot was about to open fire on Cyclops when the second helicopter's sole gun turret peppered its comrade's top rotor with bullets.

The second helicopter continued around towards the forth helicopter, but its pilot pulled his thumb off of the right-hand gun turret's trigger. In a delayed response, the forth helicopter reared away from the second and maneuvered itself around the field's crowded airspace, and as the second helicopter's completed its one-eighty Cyclops fired an optic blast into the back of its prone gun turret, ripping it clean off of the helicopter's side. The third helicopter's rotor transmission had began smoking and caught fire, forcing its pilot to pull away from the battle prematurely into retreat.

Phoenix had watched it all from Beast's shoulder as he bounced across the field to the Aurora's wreckage with her in tow. The third helicopter was long on its way out of the field's airspace and the second one, disarmed, was forced to follow suit. She looked around and caught sight of a dark cloud of smoke emitting from the orchards, noticing the first helicopter had crashed into the trees and its two pilots were exiting, no more the worse for wear.

She knew then that it had always been his intention to passively remove the helicopters from battle, going far to spare the pilots' lives when it would have been easier to simply blow them out of the sky or force them to crash. Perhaps he hadn't given up Professor Xavier's ideals all of this time, after all?

"My Husband, The-Geometry-Wielding-Optic-Blast-Emitting-Battle-Tactician," Beast teased as they came upon the Aurora's crash site and he set Phoenix down. She glared at him, warranting a toothy grin from the furry X-Man. "You'll thank me when the hardback becomes a New York Times Best-seller," he insisted.

Before Phoenix could reply, the fifth helicopter - that had broken away from formation early on - had rose up from behind the orchards and drew her and Beast's attention. It sharply maneuvered across the field's airspace over the two X-Men and swooped past them, heading towards the back of Cyclops. Phoenix immediately brought her attention onto Cyclops, who had been intently following the movements of the strangely passive forth helicopter, and let out a telepathic scream.

"SCOTT! BEHIND YOU!"

Cyclops spun around on the heel of his shoulder as the helicopter came swooped over Phoenix and Beast. The pilot brought the aircraft's tail up and directed its nose towards the X-Man, opening fire after nearly succeeding in catching Cyclops off guard, but the X-Men's leader flung himself out of the way of the helicopter's line-of-sight. In midair he brought his hand to his visor and let loose an optic blast, slicing the top rotor clean off of the helicopter and sending it soaring across the field.

In that split-second when the fifth helicopter's rotor engine exploded and lit up the night's sky, its dark blue and gold attired passenger leapt out of its open hatch and front-flipped through the air high above Phoenix and Beast. He twisted in mid-descent, with Phoenix and Beast's eyes narrowly following him, and he fell harshly into a kneel behind them just as they spun around to face this new figure on the battlefield.

The momentum of the helicopter carried it through the air and crashing down towards Cyclops, who attempted to dive out of its way but wasn't quick enough. The nose of the helicopter clipped him as it crashed into the field and the impact was not only powerful enough to knock out the pilots, but also to throw Cyclops aside like a rag-doll and cause him to bounce off the ground on his back and hit his head on the second and third bounce, the sudden shock rendering him unconscious.

The new figure took a moment for pause as the helicopter slid to a stop, looking to those he was hired to kill and sizing them up. His name was Frank Payne, a former agent of the global spy-network and police force known as S.H.I.E.L.D., but to the highest bidders and other mercenaries he was simply The Constrictor.

Noting the aghast expressions on their faces, he snickered and quickly drew up his submachine gun, standing up in the process and opening fire on them both.

"GET DOWN!" Beast roared as he lunged into Phoenix, using his thick and muscular hide to shield her. She let out a scream as his backside was riddled with bullets and they fell to the ground across the wreckage with a thunderous crash, causing pieces of the jet's debris to be thrown about. "ARGH!"

Beast cringed painfully as the bullet wounds in his back spewed blood and set his nerve endings on fire, but fortunately the few that had penetrated his body hadn't struck Phoenix, who rested beneath his heavy frame. He growled and groaned loudly, rolling over onto his side slightly as he tried to reach for the wounds, and Phoenix tried to pull herself out from underneath him.

"Hank!" she cried out. Before he could respond or she could check on him, an adamantium coil whipped around his neck, tightening around it violently on impact, and with terrifying ease The Constrictor jerked him off of the ground by the coil and flung him across the field towards the orchards. Beast collided with the first tree at the edge of the orchards, bullet-riddled-back first, and slid down it in excruciating pain.

Mouth agape at what just unfolded before her, Phoenix shot her head back towards The Constrictor as he pressed a button on his modified submachine gun with his thumb and a large, empty clip was expelled from it. He cocked his head to the side and shook it slightly as he pulled another clip from his belt, and she was frozen in place as she tried her best to rip through his telepathic shielding and attack his mind.

Unfortunately, she hadn't the time or the concentration, and as she saw The Constrictor reload his gun she turned to run. He flicked his now free wrist and the adamantium coil mounted to it extended once more, catching her around the arms and torso, and she gasped painfully as the air was forced from her legs. As she resisted and tried to pull away from him, electricity burst through the coils and coursed through her body, causing her to cry out even louder in pain and submit to his grasp over her.

The Constrictor then reeled her in close to him, the slack end of his coils retracting into his wrist, and he drew the barrel of his submachine gun up to her head as she dropped to her knees a few feet from him, gasping and wheezing for air.

"Nothin' personal, babe," he said with a half-hearted frown. "But you've gotta die."

As Phoenix knelt helpless before him, The Constrictor drew his finger down over the trigger and prepared to fire when a red beam of energy harshly whipped across his trigger-hand and another snapped into his wrist, forcing him to break his hold on Phoenix. She collapsed to the side and he cried out as he dropped his gun to the ground, his trigger-hand broken in several places, and when The Constrictor looked up he saw a glimmer of light run through a ruby quartz visor.

"Touch my wife again and you die, asshole," Cyclops spat, bruised and bloody from the fifth helicopter's crash, his hands clenched into tight fists. "Now back away from her, slow and easy, or I'm taking you down hard."

The Constrictor cradled his wrist for a moment and stared on in shock, ignoring Phoenix as she moved to her feet and scrambled out from in between them, and then he snarled in defiance and flicked his wrists down at his sides. Both of his adamantium coils burst out from their places on his forearms and coursed violently with electricity, whipping and snapping in the air around him as he prepared himself for battle.

Cyclops merely huffed in response to this and fell into a boxer's stance, his fists up.

"The hard way it is then."

NEXT ISSUE: Cyclops vs. The Constrictor!

PRIME ADJECTIVELESS DIRECTIVES
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