Title: Sinister
Author : Sarita
E-Mail: sarita.riley@btinternet.com

Rating: PG15 - some violence , swearing (but not alot)
Genre: Difficult - action fic mainly I guess (ie NOT a romance but there is Scott/Jean and implied Rogue/?)
Disclaimers: They aren't mine - what more can i say.
Notes : This is movieverse with a twist. I've stolen characters from the comic and completely changed them 'cos it suited me to do so (for all those who are avid comicverse - I know this is not how Rogue / Carol Danvers / Gambit met, I'm messing with continuity !).
This will be up at Red Expressions later in the week: www.oocities.org/mutieuk.com

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Professor Charles Xavier was concerned. He couldn't however place the cause of his concern, despite being probably the most powerful telepath on the planet. He put down the lesson plan he had begun preparing for the afternoon physics class and looked around his study, enjoying the rare moment of solitude yet knowing it was nearing its end.

Several months had passed since Magneto had seized the Statue of Liberty intending to artificially advance humans into Homo superior - mutants. He still recalled with pride how well his fledgling team had handled that without him. Their first real crisis and they had come through alive and well, functioning as a team. Even Logan had fit in, he and Scott finally accepting each other and working well together under the younger mans leadership despite their initial antagonism. Since that incident the team had countered numerous smaller, but no less insidious threats to potential peace between humans and mutants, always without recognition by the outside world.

He sighed, reaching out with his mind to those familiar presence's in the mansion. Disquiet. Each felt it in his or her own way. While they did not have his telepathic gift they were instinctive and attuned to the world around them. Charles Xavier gave up on his lesson plan and, activating his motorised wheelchair, made his way toward Cerebro. If he could not dispel his unease perhaps the machine could heighten his own prodigious senses and identify or point the way to the cause of it.

Scott Summers leant on the frame of the French doors in his room, staring out at the surrounding estate. As always for Scott his view was tinged in hues of pink and red thanks to the ever-present ruby quarts lenses he was obliged to wear. Today that view seemed somewhat oppressive despite the calm late summer weather - like there was a storm brewing despite the clear sky. He frowned unconsciously as he glanced toward the horizon to the east of the estate where the town of Westchester lay. Anti-mutant sentiment had stagnated slightly after the disappearance of Senator Kelly but in the last few weeks there had been an almost imperceptible general increase again. Despite his teams best efforts every now and again one bad apple managed to make the press before they caught them and those individuals were held up as an example of the dangers mutants presented. Forget that America's crime rate was made up largely of human actions. Mutant `super powers' always made for more dramatic headlines.

A feather-light touch brought him out of his musings. Jean Grey slipped her arm about his waist and leant her chin on his shoulder looking past his ear and out the doors.

"Brooding again ?" she teased softly.

He gave her a lopsided half smile. "I didn't hear you come in," he said quietly turning into her embrace. "I thought you and Ororo were going shopping."

"We did, but I don't think our hearts were really in it. 'Ro decided she would rather eat back here with the family," she grinned, "even if that does mean putting up with Logan's smelly cigars afterwards."

Scott snickered and released Jean. "He's been in the Danger Room all morning."

"On his own?" asked Jean alarmed.

Scott shook his head. "I watched from the control room." At her startled look he shrugged. "I finished up with the re-calibrations on the Blackbird early so..." he trailed off.

She smiled. "If you're not careful we'll start to think you two actually like each other."

Scott's expression slipped back into his usual serious demeanour as he took her hand and led her toward the door. "Why don't we see if Ororo has done anything about lunch yet?"

Ororo glanced up as the door to the kitchen banged open. Logan pulled up short as he noticed the room was occupied. With his hair still wet from the shower and his habitual checked shirt and scruffy boots in hand he clearly hadn't expected company for lunch. He'd felt out of sorts all day, hell most of the week all told. Figuring to blow off steam in the danger room for an hour had turned into a whole morning of it and for once he hadn't chaffed at Cykes "drill instructor" role. While he usually found Scott's over serious approach restricting, the guy did know how to make you jump through the hoops and throw in a few surprises along the way. He'd given Logan a good run from the control room and he thought it had worked until his shower. Then all the tension and unease had flown right back on in and it was a very waspish Wolverine indeed who banged into the kitchen and startled Ororo.

Ororo sighed at the sudden intrusion of noise. While Jean had been good company this morning the trip had left her feeling hemmed in by people. She was candid enough with herself to know her feelings were linked to her growing sense that something big was happening and her dislike of being surprised by these things. "Lunch ?" she asked Logan politely.

He sniffed suspiciously. "Sure," he grunted puling on his boots, "as long as you've got more in mind than just that grass n weed concoction you got there."

Ororo sighed. "The salad is for those who want it Logan. I'm sure we can manage to massacre some poor unsuspecting cow for you."

"Pastrami will be good," he nodded.

With a sigh she added the beef to the growing pile of food on the table just as Jean and Scott entered.

"Need any help?" Jean asked joining the other woman immediately.

"Just need some cutlery," she grinned and moved the coffee-pot to the table only to watch Logan empty half of it into the cracked and battered mug that most would call a bucket. "Maybe another pot of coffee," she muttered.

They were joined midway through lunch by the Professor and Marie. Xavier looked distant and when questioned by Jean simply smiled and changed the subject or said "I hope all will become clear soon." "Great," muttered Logan as Xavier left as abruptly as he had arrived. "Chucks gone ga ga too." Scott scowled across the table at him but said nothing. Lunch was finished without further comment and they all went their separate ways for the afternoon. It was just getting dark outside when they each received a mental summons to meet the Professor in the map room. Logan was the last to arrive and found the others already peering at the changing map at the centre of the table as it shifted itself into a larger scale version of its previous display.

"Ah, Logan Good we my now begin" Xavier said with a small smile. "I know that for the past few days you have all been somewhat uneasy, each in your own way. I feel I may be partly responsible for that. Either I have been leaking my own anxieties or I have simply seen you too well trained or too well attuned to the role we play here. Nevertheless it is not I fear without cause on this occasion. I have spent most of the day in Cerebro trying to make sense of my concerns and all signs are that there is a growing problem in the south, particularly Louisiana. There have been some fairly exotic witch hunts down there, mutants or suspected mutant sympathisers have been disappearing and there has been a growing number of alarming illusions and bouts of mass hysteria in the area. I don't know if the two are linked or even if it is the centre of the action so to speak, but at least it has given us focus from which we may begin investigating this matter." He looked at Scott. "I want you to take the team down there and begin looking into this matter. I will continue to use Cerebro and our other resources here. We can keep in contact through the communications equipment on the Blackbird or through Jean as necessary."

"You want all of us to go?" Scott sounded a little surprised.

Xavier nodded. "We are looking at two specific problems and a large area to cover - I also feel this is coming to a head now. I think when it comes down to it you're going to need your whole team around you when this one kicks off."

Scott nodded. "It would be best to fly down at night - use the dark as cover and take it from there."

"Agreed," Xavier nodded. "Get your equipment together and meet back here in an hour, Scott stay a moment if you please."

As the others filed out Scott looked pensively at the map. "There is a power down there Scott," he said at last, "and it is trying to shield itself. I can get glimpses, hints at something so dark it makes my skin crawl. For all Magnetos power, his is not a truly evil mind. Misguided in the extreme but at the end of the day a sane one. What ever is down there cares little for mutant or human alike. Magneto helped me build Cerebro so it is not surprising he found way to counter it. It worries me that something else can shield itself so well. I don't like not knowing what I'm sending you into. Be careful and don't spread yourselves too thin. Your strengths are in teamwork - above all else use that."

Scott straightened slowly. "We won't let you down Professor Xavier."

"I know you won't Scott, that's not what I'm afraid of. God speed Cyclops and safe return."

"What's up with Chuck?" muttered Logan as he tossed a second bag of gear onto the Blackbirds ramp. Scott was striding across the hanger towards him. Logan didn't need to see Scott's eyes to gauge the irritated look that the younger man threw his way as he grabbed the last kit bag and followed Jean up the ramp. Logan trailed after him. "What - we gotta play guessing games here leader-man?"

"No guessing games Wolverine," Cyclops said at last. "I can't tell you what I don't know, what the professor doesn't know. It's our job to find out what's going on so I suggest we get on with it."

Wolverine rolled his eyes at Storm and made a grand gesture for her to precede him up the ramp. "After you Darlin'," he smiled.

The hum of the engines lulled the group into sleep on the outward journey, only Cyclops remaining alert and on station as he piloted the craft through the night. Unlike both Logan and Storm he actually enjoyed flying (in Storms case it was the flying inside a machine that she didn't appreciate), something Jean had always found surprising given the circumstances of his youth. Scott had been orphaned in an air accident, the only survivor of his parents mid air collision with an unknown object and even he had nearly been killed when his parachute had partially failed. The accident had left him in a coma and suffering from the brain damage that he later learned resulted in his inability to control his mutant powers. All that aside he found piloting the Blackbird a relaxing experience with the occasional thrill ride thrown in. He let himself smile slightly as he considered this. If any of his team knew that the ultra serious Cyclops actually got a kick out of this they would probably keel over from the shock.

"Something amusing Bub?" Logan muttered as he slipped into the vacant co-pilot seat.

Scott started slightly. He didn't want to admit that Logan caught him off guard as often as he did. "Can't you scrape your feet or something when you do that?" he asked wryly.

Logan stared out the window. "How fast we goin anyhow? Mach 2?"

Scott nodded.

"We over water?" he asked again.

Scott could actually sense the nerves in the other mans constant chatter. Fearless Logan really did not fly well. "Most direct route if we want to avoid commercial air traffic," Scott answered laconically.

Logan snorted. "All these fancy gadgets on this thing and you cant even get a decent picture on the screen. Y'know just for variety change the colour of the night scope from red to green or something. The red makes me queasy."

Scott canted his head to regard the man, a mixture of bemusement and annoyance in his look.

"What ?" snapped Logan.

"I didn't know it was red," Scott said finally. "I haven't seen any other colour since I was fifteen." Scott went back to looking at the read outs and the screen ahead.

Logan stared at his profile, at the visor that - aside from his glasses - was ever present. "Never thought about it that way," he said at last. A soft insistent beeping saved either of them from pushing past the awkward moment.

"You'd better strap yourself in," said Scott "we're coming up on the landing site the professor picked out." Scott kicked the craft into a steep dive that elicited a groan from Logan before pulling out at the last moment and setting the VTOL - vertical takeoff and landing - to put the large craft down in the relatively narrow clearing a mile or so on the outskirts of New Orleans.

Scott slipped free of his harness and joined the others in the back of the jet.

"So what's the drill?" asked Rogue, who up to this point had seemed unnaturally subdued. As the youngest member of the group by far she still seemed to defer to the others or try to slip into the background as much as possible. Scott had been surprised when the Professor had begun to insist she be included several missions back, but she was plucky and street wise and surprisingly adaptable. Her youth also meant people tended to overlook her at their cost - probably vital to the information gathering aspect of this gig. Scott glanced at Jean and hesitated for a moment, he didn't really like what he was going to say next. He tossed a bag at Logan.

"You, Jean and Rogue go into town in regular clothes. Storm and I stay here and monitor for the time being. We know that Cerebro picks up energy spikes when there's mutant activity in the surrounding countryside and Storm will have the best chance of responding to that fast. Jean keep in contact with me. You and Rogue will play tourist, hit all the night spots and attractions. Logan check out the docks and industrial areas on the pretext of looking for work. Pick an out of the way hotel that you can all meet back at and use as a base of operation and keep your communications gear and locators on at all times. I'll use the time here to hack into all the local networks and information repositories and see what I can come up with that way."

"Sounds like a plan. You ever have Gumbo darlin?" Logan grinned at Jean.

"Why no I don't believe I have," she said softly then linked arms with Rogue, "but I do believe my little cousin here can show me this fair state like no other, having family down this way and all."

"Sure `Cuz'," said Rogue brightly catching on fast, "you'all won't believe what they can do with shrimp in this neck'o'the woods."

With a Benny hat shoved low over his forehead and cigar stuck between his teeth, Logan looked about as rough as they came. "C'mon ladies," he grinned "least I can do is walk you to the edge of town." Rogue followed him out but Jean hung back for a second. She gave Scott's hand a gentle squeeze and kissed him softly.

"Take care," he said, voice low as he glanced after the other two.

"I can handle Logan," she said firmly, smiling to take any sting out of her words.

He sighed. "I know, just take care," he repeated. Jean slipped out after the other two and Scott moved to the hatch to watch them disappear into the trees before straightening and, all work once more, heading back to the communications array to begin his part of the search.

Jean tossed a stack of papers on the bed and called toward the bathroom. "Have you been to New Orleans before?" she asked Rogue. The younger woman entered the room towel drying her hair thoroughly. "Once, when I was a kid. I really do have family down this way. I didn't get to see much though. It's more fun for adults."

"Well, I picked up a stack of leaflets from the lobby in keeping with our tourist guise. Truth is I guess we'll need them." Rogue glanced out the window. "It'll be dark again in an hour we can try 'em out then."

"I can't believe it took us all day to find a suitable hotel room," Jean muttered. "We're lucky we got one at all, how were we supposed to know Mardi Grass starts in two days when we came down this way."

"I'm sorry Jean," said Rogue softly. "I grew up knowin' all about it - shoulda remembered the date at least."

Jean waved off her apology. "It's going to make things difficult that's for sure."

"Maybe Storm should have come with you," said Rogue quietly. Jean laughed out loud. "In the kinds of crowds this is likely to draw - no it's a very good thing that she is not here. Storm does not like large crowds. Scott will be annoyed that he missed the whole Mardi Gras date thing, but I like it when he slips up. Gives me a chance to remind him he's only human after all. I wonder how Logan is getting on."

Logan looked long and hard at the barkeep when he sloshed the second beer on the scarred counter. "Watch it bub," he snarled threateningly.

"Yeah whatever," the guy muttered as he moved away.

Logan had been through the same routine for the best part of the day, stopping at bars and asking what work was going. Usually he got a shrug, most often he got told to go back where he came from. He listened everywhere and so far the story was the same. No one gave a damn what happened to humans let alone "mutie trash". He downed the last of the beer and moved off, aware that as he did so he was followed out into the alley. Since entering the dive it had gotten dark.

"Hey bud - you got a light pal?" a rough voice called out behind him. Logan turned and faced the loose semi-circle of 4 men.

"We'll take whatever cash you got too," sniggered another.

"Why don't you come take it Bub," snarled Wolverine, extending one claw in each gloved hand with a snick. The fight was short and brutal. He took two down inside a minute, before the other two got together enough to double-team him. He was slammed back into the alley wall, his head ringing. Grunting under the blows rained in on him he gutted the taller of the two, then retracted his claws and simply head butted the last man to the floor. Standing over them he shook his head to clear the stars from his vision and heard the slow claps of applause. He looked up sharply to see a heavyset man in a sailors pea coat smiling at him. It wasn't a pleasant smile.

"I figured you for a dirty scrapper," he said his voice gravely. "That's the sort I need," he added as Wolverine squared off toward him.

"You offering me a job Bub or just chit chattin'?"

The man shrugged. "That depends on you. You passed the interview anyhow."

Wolverine grinned nastily. "Who've I gotta kill and how much does it pay."

The man smiled. "Name's Gulich why don't I buy you a beer and we'll discuss that."

Less than two hours later Wolverine, Gulich and two others crouched on a rooftop in the industrial quarter. Gulich pointed through the skylight at the shadowy figures within. "Watch yourselves with this bunch at least two of em are muties."

"So what's the deal - we kill em?" snarled Wolverine.

Gulich shook his head. "Send a message Logan. You gotta get with the terminology here. These clowns are moving in on the docks. My boss doesn't like that so we use these guys to send a message to their boss. Reads something like fuck off back to whatever swamp they crawled out of." He signalled them to spread out and enter at the areas they had been assigned. Once inside they didn't have long to wait. Gulich stepped right out into the open. "Well, well what do we have here? You'all don't know when to take a friendly warning do you?"

Two of the three men were lifting a crate into an RV, the other was lounging on the tailgate shuffling a deck of cards. One of the two immediately unfurled a tail from beneath his coat and shot a half dozen spikes from the end of it at Gulich. The man dived out of the way and Logan's other two erstwhile companions opened fire on the thieves. The deck shuffler promptly began spinning energy charged cards with devastating accuracy at the shooters while the other thief crumpled to the floor riddled with bullets.

"Logan!" yelled Gulich.

"Right behind you Bub," he answered stepping out from behind a crate. Gulich spun into his right hook and slumped to the floor. The two mutants looked across at him then tail guy shot two darts into his chest. Logan doubled over with a snarl as the guy sniggered and strutted over towards him. The look of surprise on his face when Logan simply plucked the barbs from his chest was almost worth the pain, almost. "You loose these Bub?" The snicht of his claws extending were the last thing the guy heard before he hit the deck.

"That wasn't a smart thing to go an do now was it homme?" said the card carrying mutant softly shaking his mane of russet hair.

"Hey pal - your good buddy here took his best shot first." The two began wearily circled each other. Wolverine grinned like a feral animal. "Bring it on Bub - I figured better side with a mutant than some human thug but you wanna go at it too that's fine by me."

"That why you switch sides homme - cause that don't really encourage trust now do it mm?"

"I signed on for them for pay - he didn't pay me. Figured whatever you got goin' here could use some muscle."

The Cajun, least he sounded like a Cajun to Logan, laughed. We do things with a little finesse around here homme, but ol Gambit here don' mind if the guild don' mind. Truce eh?"

Wolverine grinned without humour. "Lead on Gumbo."

Jean smiled politely at the third man to hit on her that evening. "Thanks but I'm just leaving," she muttered as Rogue brushed past her toward the exit. "I'm not sure how much more of this I can take," Jean groaned as they emerged into the sultry heat outside the bar.

Rogue actually laughed. "It's the hair," she grinned. "Red's a popular colour down here. I don't think were gettin far though. Why don we call it a night and see if Logans had more luck'n us?"

Jean nodded. "Hold on a sec," she said and stood for a moment a far- away look in her eyes. She smiled suddenly. "Scott has had a little more luck with the missing person's reports and such. There's a definite pattern emerging and most of the folks who've gone missing were last seen downtown where the Jazz clubs are. No problems at the clubs themselves - that always started elsewhere - but it's a common thread right before the trouble. Scott wants us to check out a couple of rough spots where the trouble started during daylight hours then try downtown tomorrow evening."

Rogue nodded. "The parties'll be startin tomorrow too so that'll give us plenty o' cover."

"Tomorrow?" Jean asked startled. "I though the celebrations start the day after."

Rogue shook her head. "Locals always start a day ahead of the tourist dates and finish a couple days after. Lets check with Logan." The sidewalk was pretty crowded and Jean barely had time to register Rogue disappear jerkily into an alley just two blocks from their hotel. She had to fight the tide to get back to the alley opening and stretch out with her mind to find the younger woman where the alley curved behind the building. She wasn't alone. Jean turned the corner just in time to see one of the three youths that had grabbed her try to push her up against the wall and kiss her.

"Don't," she warned angrily as one of his friends grabbed her bag, yanking it from her grasp.

"Give it up Sugar," he snarled "ain't no one gonna miss one more tourist." He leant in again making contact with her bare flesh and with a gasp staggered back, his eyes rolling up into is head before passing out cold. Jean immediately reached out with her telekinesis slamming another youth back into some trashcans. The other man picked his friend out of the trash and dragged him off down the alley. "They're mutants man lets book."

"You Ok?" asked Jean as Rogue stood trembling by the wall. She shook her head and tried to push Jean after them, but mistaking her intent Jean tried to comfort her.

"No!" Rogue finally gasped "they are connected to this."

"What?" asked Jean stunned. She immediately scanned the area with her mind but they had merged back in with the streams of people and were lost to her. "Let's get back to the hotel and you can tell me what you felt."

When they got back Rogue had stopped shaking. "They don't know much really - just hired help. They pick pockets, looking for certain people they've been told to. They follow ' em to the clubs then call in when they're there for others to take over. Then they go on to the next mark. They're part of some sort of thieves' guild. They don't know what happens next but I saw a coupl'a faces of targets and they match some o' the missing folks." She slumped down to the bed.

"Okay - at least we know how they pick their marks and where they go first. We'll follow up on that tomorrow and hope they don't get scared off by what happened tonight. In the meantime I'll try to contact Logan, find out why he hasn't checked in yet. Rogue - contact Scott on your wrist communicator and let him know what you told me." She nodded as Jean let her mind wander out. Finally she found what she was looking for. She snapped out of her reverie as Rogue finished her call. "Logan's in, he thinks." At Rogues blank look She smiled. "He's made contact with the thieves guild, or at least some part of it. It seems there is some kind of gang war going on between the human and mutant elements of the guild. He's made contact with both sides but is with a group of mutants right now."

"But its mutants that are going missing, wouldn't it be a safe bet that it's the humans?"

Jean shrugged, "he didn't know about our encounter at the time - he was just trying to make contact with local mutants. He may be able to learn more where he is anyway. We do exactly as we planned earlier."

Neither Jean or Rogue had any success with their daytime activities despite their hopes of the previous evening, and it became clear from a short conversation with Logan that, much to his disgust, the group he was with considered the daytime either sleep time or, in the case of the mutant called Gambit and a few others, time to fleece each other at cards. Night came quickly and with the onset of sporadic parties around the area, the nightlife sprang to life much quicker than it normally would. Jean and Rogue dressed for party time, but their garb was as much functional as attractive so that they could react to an emergency without worrying about tripping over their party dresses. The Club scene was just getting in swing when they arrived in the quarter.

"There's so many of them," Jean muttered trying to smile gaily and failing.

Rogue smiled and strode toward the first one. "I guess we're gonna have to stick to the club soda's then," she grinned.

Storm was monitoring the board when it picked up a contact in the swamp.

"Cyclops," she said urgently nudging the man, who dozed in the pilots' chair. He was alert in an instant.

"How far?" he asked.

"Half an hour on foot, a lot less as the crow flies. Contact shows two Mutants on an erratic course with other people fanned out and converging on them."

"Are the others Mutant too?"

She shook her head, "not unless they can hide the fact from Cerebro. The Professor wants us to try to intercept the two runners," she confirmed as she read the message scrolling across the Blackbirds powerful communications array. "Its not too far I can carry you there."

Cyclops nodded. Storm had been experimenting with using wind and thermals for flight ever since Liberty island. "If you're sure it won't tax you too much."

She smiled as they hurried outside. "If it were Logan I might have declined, you however are somewhat slimmer than he."

Scott smiled slightly. "I don't know whether to be offended or flattered."

Storm laughed aloud and raised her arms calling upon the air currents to create and updraft. She grasped Cyclops firmly under the arms and around his chest, for stability rather than actually lifting him, raising them slowly into the night sky. As she gathered momentum the trees whipped by below them. "Just ahead," she said through gritted teeth a few moments later.

"Put us down ahead of them out of their line of sight," called Cyclops over the wind.

Storm dipped them below the tree line and they landed in soft marshy ground that sucked at their booted feet. Storm leaned over her knees drawing in breath for a moment.

"Are you OK?" asked Cyclops concerned. She nodded, straightening.

They took their bearing and moved off slowly through the thick undergrowth, soon coming within hearing distance of the chase. Two ragged figures could just be seen through the trees. One was hunched over and supported by his green skinned friend. They pushed away from the tree they were resting against as the sounds of pursuit again drew nearer and almost frantically tried to force their way through the foliage. Torches could be seen breaking the darkness. Cyclops silently motioned Storm to maintain her current position relative to the two while he circled around slightly. When in position they were only a few yards from the approaching pair but one suddenly stopped and pulled up short.

"What?" muttered the injured mutant startled.

The green skinned mutant looked panicked, "there's someone in front of us!" he quailed.

Cyclops motioned Storm to stay hidden and stepped out in front of the two, his hands raised non-threateningly.

"Wait," he called softly as they struggled to flee, "We're here to help you."

As he took a step forward the green skinned mutant spat a glob of some noxious smelling substance toward him. It sizzled passed his shoulder as he dived ground-ward, melting into the rotten tree stump it hit in his stead.

"Great," muttered Cyclops, extricating himself from the mire. The torches by now were rapidly growing brighter. "Storm give us some cover," he called as loudly as he dared. At once a swirling fog began to fill the space between the mutants and the torchbearers. "We're not your enemies," he hissed urgently at the pair. The green mutant looked panicked but the wounded one pulled him back.

"Maybe he can help," he muttered in a thick voice to his partner.

"Let me go," hissed the green mutant shaking his arm loose and running into the fog.

Cyclops reached the injured mutant in two strides and knelt to assess the damage. He appeared quite normal apart from some stone like growths on his skin here and there.

"Leg's broken," he hissed as Cyclops tried to help him stand. The guy weighed a ton. No way to move quickly over the soft ground.

"Storm," he called softly, "I need help here."

She appeared out of the fog like a serene goddess of calm and took the mans other arm.

"Now what?" she asked, "I can't lift you both and they're getting close."

"Did you see what happened to the other one?" Cyclops queried.

"He was heading right into their path, but I couldn't see well enough to stop him."

"Okay," Cyclops drew in a deep breath. "Lets try to get some distance and hope the fog confuses them."

They made better time than expected with two of them to assist the man and Storm kept the fog between them and their pursuers but the torches remained a constant presence either ahead or to the side of them.

"Wait," said Cyclops suddenly stopping, "this isn't working."

"We're ahead," Storm protested.

He shook his head. "I get the feeling we're being herded in one direction, can't you feel it." She looked around and shook her head.

"Go up," he said suddenly, "see if you can get a bearing on where we are or if there's shelter available."

She immediately lifted from the ground.

"No use," muttered the exhausted mutant.

"What?" Cyclops asked calmly.

"They can track us," he muttered, "been tracking us since they forced us off the road on the outskirts of town."

"Why do they want you?" Cyke asked urgently.

He shook his head. "Want some sport," he coughed. "Heard `em say they want some sport."

Scott shook his head. The more he was seeing the more he believed there was more to this whole set up. Storm appeared suddenly hissing a warning.

"Down!, they're close." As they crouched low in the fog they heard soft shouts and movement. Storm leaned in close "you're right they're trying to push us toward the swampy area just north of here. There's not many of them but they are armed."

" Any way round or through?"

She nodded, "left flank is weak - too spread out.I saw lights in that direction too, moving, possibly a highway."

"Ok," he hefted the man up, "that's where we go."

They circled until they felt safe then moved back the way they have come originally through the line of searchers. Cyclops was beginning to think they had made it when a sharp crack was followed by a large chunk of bark exploded beside his ear. He dragged Storm down as two more shots pinged into the tree beside him.

"Nightscope?" queried Storm. He nodded, an annoyed expression on his face that in other circumstances might have amused her. Trust Scott to take this turn of events as a personal slight. He shuffled around on his backside till he faced the direction of the shots. He let off two low-level blasts of force in quick succession before urgently moving them forward again on a zigzagging path. As the ground got firmer their almost silent companion found the going easier. They paused to get their bearings and a body launched itself out of the fog at Storm. She crashed to the deck dazed as the figure scrambled up and swung an axe handle at Cyclops head. He staggered back, the weapon missing, but stumbled over a tree root falling flat on his backside. Another wild swing followed the first and he rolled slightly to avoid it, still on the ground. On the second such swing he was able to wrap his arm around the wood and yank the man forward off balance, kicking his legs up he sent the man flailing over his head. As he got up he arched in a spasm, mouth open in a silent scream as Storm shocked him with a mild surge of lightening. He flopped down unconscious as Cyclops staggered to his feet.

"Go!" he urged the other two, "I'll watch our backs till the road."

The second attack followed soon after the first. This time it was a thug with a thick bicycle chain who surged out of the fog, chain whipping through the air to tangle around Cyclops neck. He hit the charging man hard at close range with a concussive blast that threw the man back into a tree, getting a savage yank from the chain around his own neck as a result. Coughing to clear his windpipe, he caught up with the other two. When they reached the road, luck seemed to be on their side. The lights they had seen earlier belonged to a truck stopp and Storm `aquired' a pick up in short order. At Scott's look she shrugged, "I dabbled in all sorts of things as a youth. Should we try for one of the attackers?"

Cyclops considered it carefully then shook his head, gesturing to the wounded mutant. "We need to get him out of here, if we get bogged down in there again we all run the risk of not coming back out." She nodded and slipped behind the wheel, peeling away from the verge with a squeal of spinning tyres. A few torches appeared on the road behind them but no serious pursuit followed, which seemed odd to them.

"You Okay?" she asked glancing over at Cyclops.

"Mmm?" He grunted startled.

"Your neck's cut up pretty bad," she noted.

He brought his hand up to his throat and sure enough his fingertips came away with blood on them. "Uniform absorbed most of it," he muttered. "I can clean it up at the `bird." He turned his attention to the mutant huddled over in the seat beside him. "You feel like telling us what happened to you mister?"

The guy shrugged. "I'd heard there was work to be had if you were, y'know different, here. Me an' my mate got some security sort of work. Don't ask too many questions an' it's OK. We'd only been there two days and was goofin' off when we finally saw the boss guy. No one else there had seen `im so we were curious. He was talking to some Cajun about a Job he wanted doing - not what you'd call legit. Couldn't hear much but the Cajun didn't look happy none. We hid behind some crates as the guy was leavin'. Anyhow Boss guy steps out of the doorway and we can see him clearly and he kinds of fades out and then he's the guy we've supposedly been hired to protect stuff from. He's gotta be some kind of mutant too I figure but it just didn't make sense. Lick, that's the guy I was with tonight, he says we should tell someone, so we did. Our guy looks real shifty like but he says we done good and can have the rest of the night off. Tells us to go to this Club they own downtown and have a good time on the house." He shrugged. "We did just that an then all this trouble started on the way back from there."

Cyclops looked over at Storm and his lips tightening with worry. "Sound familiar?" he asked.

Storm nodded "I guess Jean and Rogue are on the right track."

"Hey ," said the mutant suddenly, "who are you guys anyhow?"

Storm looked over him. "The people who just saved your life. That for now must be answer enough."

He looked between the two of them. "Yeah , whatever" he muttered. "You think Lick made it out of there?"

Storm shook her head. "Your friend was running straight toward them - there was not much we could have done for him."

She pulled over in the trees a little way ahead. "Wait here," she said softly, glancing at Cyclops before proceeding, "I'll be back with something to splint that leg." True to her word Storm returned with a Brace support and painkillers. After fixing the mutant up they suggested he rest and then get himself out of town.

He snorted, pulling himself over to the Drivers seat. "Plenty of time to rest in the next state over," he muttered. "I've had enough of this hoodoo town." Storm and Cyclops watched him pull away in the `borrowed' truck and disappear before heading toward the Blackbird. There was an urgency to Scott's stride.

"We'd better try to warn Jean and Logan about this," he said firmly.

"Scott," Storm said touching his arm gently. "Do you understand any of his story. I can't figure out how this all fits together." Cyclops shook his head. "I think I know what's going on I just don't know why - what the purpose of the whole charade is."

"Charade?" she looked startled.

He gestured her inside and locked down the hatch after them. "Try to raise Jean or Logan and I'll explain as we go along."

Jean put the communicator away and turned to look for Rogue. Finding her chatting amiably to the bartender she sidled up to her and grinned widely. "C'mon kiddo," she laughed "I've just heard about a real hot party down town." Waiving cheerily at the bartender, they made their way out.

"What gives?" asked Rogue immediately, "I'd just got that guy talking ­ 5 more minutes and I'd've known the names of everyone in the place and their life histories."

We need to find a club called the Ichelbob Lounge. Scott and Storm have been playing in the swamp and came up with a lead."

"Eeew," muttered Rogue, "hate to think what the Blackbird smells like right now," she muttered.

Jean shot her a quick glance and laughed. "Scott didn't have much time to explain but this place is definitely where the action is. Looks like there's some kind of elaborate and totally staged gang war going on between mutants and humans with one guy supposedly calling the shots on both sides."

"Why?" asked Rogue.

She shook her head. "That's the part they can't figure. Scott's gonna call the Professor, see what he makes of it all. Make sure your locator is set. Scott wants to be able to track us in case anything happens."

Rogue nodded and reset the tiny device on her bracelet. "All set," she confirmed .

"Good ­ there's a taxi c'mon."

The tall man regarded the loose semi-circle of men standing in the room beyond through the one way mirrored wall. He turned to the large mutant beside him. "I'm not at all happy Danvers."

The powerfully built Woman shifted nervously. "They didn't anticipate intervention, didn't even realise it wasn't the quarry until after they got hit by those concussion blasts."

"Mmmm," the tall man murmured.

Danvers pointed to one of the men. "He nailed one of them with a bike chain but the guy smacked him into a tree with a look. He only woke up 10 minutes ago." She shot the tall man a look, "he got him pretty good though ­ hurt him. There's blood on the chain to show it."

The tall mans head whipped round. "Still?" he asked quietly with intensity.

"I..I think," answered Danvers.

"Find out," he snapped. "If there is take a sample. We'll see what our interventionist friend is made of."

"What about the one who got away?" she asked.

He favoured her with a smile. "I'll make arrangements with the guild ­ he won't get very far. That one would have been of no use to me anyway."

As Danvers hurried to do his bidding he regarded the group in the next room while contemplating this new turn of events. "With a look," he said softly to himself, "I wonder if it could be?" he trailed off. "Well," he said decisively his voice brightening, "if it is then fates favours me indeed." He seemed to fade out of existence for a moment before taking shape, a new shape, and striding out of the room. He strode into the communications room and picked up the telephone. "Ahh, Gambit," he said quietly as the other end was picked up. "I would like you to make some arrangements for me, I have a problem I'd like eliminated professionally." His tone was seductive to the point of hypnotic.

Gambit put the phone down and shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. "Tillek," he said, his tone similar to that of the tall mans. "The man wants a Job doing, homme. No evidence eh. Yesterdays target he eluded the `gators, this time you see to it that it's done right mmm?"

Tillek grinned evilly. "My favourite pastime," he muttered sibilantly, looping and un-looping the cord he was playing with. "Just let me know where and who and I'll deal with the rest."

Gambit stared after the man as he left a few moments later. Now what exactly had he been doing before that little interruption. He shook his head again, "Remy," he muttered to himself, "ya'll is loosin' it son," he thought darkly.

The tall man regarded the phone for a while until Danvers entered.

"Got a sample," she said interrupting his musing, "anything wrong?"

"I'd like to see Gambit tonight," he said turning to her, "arrange it so that he is at the Club. I don't want to take any chances with him, he has a strong will and my suggestions need reinforcement now and then. Now, lets go and see that sample shall we."

Scott sighed as he hung up the connection to Westchester. Storm touched him on the shoulder. "Any ideas ?" He shook his head.

"The professor agrees that it seems to be one guy running both groups, though I don't think the groups themselves know that aside from some key people at the top. As to why he's doing it I don't really know, seems a little elaborate to me. The professor is going to run some scenarios through Cerebro to see what comes out and to find out if there are any concentrations of mutant energy in the area. He wants us to go back into the swamp and find out why we were being herded toward the area we were. He thinks there may be some sort of base of operations out there."

"You're not going anywhere just yet," Storm said firmly. At his long hard look she simply smiled. "You're hurt," she reminded him softly, "those wounds need cleaning before you wander around in the filth again or you'll get an infection and be no use to anyone. Undo your uniform" she ordered him firmly.

Scott sighed and unzipped his uniform to the waist. Storm pulled his collar back from his neck, earning a hiss from him as dried blood came away with it. She used antiseptic to clean the lacerations before dressing them with a flexible, porous tape. "Okay," she said finally, "that's about the best that can be done under these conditions."

He stood, closing his uniform top as he did so. "I'll grab some tracking equipment, you check over the SUV ­ it should get us in pretty close before the ground gets too boggy for it."

"I can fly us in," she said defensively.

He shook his head, "too many limitations if we need to get out in hurry and find someone else again."

She sighed, "don't forget to pack some ration bars then," she muttered "no need to go hungry as well as without sleep."

In just under an hour they were back at approximately the site where they had first encountered the two mutants. Scott scanned around the area with the portable instruments he carried. He shook his head slightly. There was a faint reading but then it disappeared. "Either the swamp is messing up the readings or there is something out here but it's well shielded. I'd go with the latter."

Storm motioned into the undergrowth. "That's the direction they were running us in."

He nodded. "Lets move out, you go up and see if you can get a better impression of things from the air but watch out for yourself. If there is something out there sophisticated enough to hide itself from this equipment then its feasible they already know we are here." As Scott progressed along the general line toward their goal he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling they were being followed.

"This place's heaving," yelled Rogue trying to make herself heard over the voices within the low ceiling room. Even the live jazz band playing the crowd was just background scratching, drowned out by the sheer cacophony of half a hundred different conversations in almost as many different languages. Jeans head was pounding from trying to scan so large a crowd in such a confined space. "You Okay?" asked Rogue.

"Peachy," muttered Jean.

"Huh?" asked the girl startled.

Jean gestured toward the bar, unwilling or unable or both to continue the conversation. The crush at the bar wasn't much better, but at least it allowed Jean to face the crowd and stare of into space without looking too conspicuous or getting trampled.

"Logan's here," she said suddenly leaning toward Rogue to be heard.

The younger girl looked startled. "No don't look around ­ he's out back somewhere. Weird though ­ I get the sense he's with someone, but its like they're not there, shielded maybe."

In the back room, Logan stood idly outside the door that Gambit had gone through ten minutes earlier. His keen hearing could not pick up any of the conversation going on inside.

Gambit shuddered despite himself and blinked rapidly. "Is everything all right?" the man before him asked mildly, his tailored business suit at odds with the thief's' scruffier demeanour. "Huh, oh sure Mr Essex, Gambit was paying attention," he added hurriedly. "Mmm," the man smiled and it did not reach his eyes. "I'm sure you were my friend, I'm sure you were. I think that concludes our business for the evening. I will leave through the club, give me ten minutes and then leave by the rear. You have your instructions ­ find the two mutants that were in the alley yesterday night ­ then we will arrange a private party for them near my retreat."

Gambit nodded. "Didn't get a good description of them, but we'll find `em."

"See that you do," the man smiled and left Remy Le Beau, also know as Gambit, to wonder where the last ten minutes had gone exactly. As "Mr Essex" glided through the throng to the exit he did something he rarely bothered to do. He let his eyes wander over the crowd of seething human detritus. And stopped short. There by the bar was a very familiar face, recognised from TV as well as several medical journals and the like. "Dr Grey," he muttered. Without hesitation he reversed direction, intending to get to Gambit before the thief left the building.

"You sure?" Gambit asked a few moments later, wincing as soon as he said it and glancing at his employer and patron.

Mr Essex favoured him with a faintly bored look that bespoke trouble if he was interrupted further. "Yes my dear boy I am sure. That is Dr Jean Grey, a woman at the forefront of mutant DNA research. She addressed the Senate only a few months back prior to that idiotic mutant registration law defeat."

"So what she doin' here," muttered Gambit. "Playing tourist?" he added sarcastically.

Essex laughed. "Quite probably my dear Gambit, this is one of the worlds finest pageants is it not? Still, it is far too good an opportunity to pass up. Her assistance in my work may prove invaluable. Of course she is unlikely to be altogether willing to lend such assistance. Take your new playmate with you and see that she is taken directly to my laboratory. If she has a companion with her, get rid of them. I do not want a missing person's report filed come morning."

Gambit nodded once and left via the rear door motioning for Wolverine to join him.

"What gives?" Logan growled as they strode around the building. "I been coolin my heels forever now we're in some kind of hurry?"

Gambit whirled on him. "When the man tells you to do something homme, you do not keep `im waitin', eh? There's a lady inside that will be coming out soon. She just got invited to dinner with the boss. I'll deal with her, you deal with anyone she's with."

"Deal?" he growled in response.

Gambit leant against the wall studying the front door. "The red head is mine, she gets to go a little sleepy for a while homme, but any one who should be with her ­ you get to make sure they no with her no more mm?. Take it somewhere quiet though, then meet me back at the warehouse. We gotta little trip to make with the lady."

"I need to pack my swimsuit?" snickered Logan. *Jean * Logan screamed with his mind, *god dammit woman are you listening. *

* I'm right here stop shouting * he heard inside his head. * I can pick you up just fine. *

*Something's gonna happen and I think they're after you. Something about taking you somewhere on the boss' orders. I'm supposed to "deal" with who ever is with you. *

*Okay * he heard after a pause. * Go along with it all the way. I'll forewarn Rogue to expect you to get a little rough.*

*Are you nuts lady * he practically screamed back. *No way I'm letting these creeps get their hands on you. *

*Yes you are * she answered firmly, reinforcing it with a mental command that made his teeth ache.

*Sunglasses boy'll fry me for this * he shot back, * you want that on your conscience. Course I'll have to kill him for trying * he added.

*I can't reach Scott right now, he and Storm are in the swamp some where and that blasted shield is getting in the way. There's no way we could anticipate this and we need to act ­ this gets me inside whatever is going on, not just skirting around the edges. I've got my locator set to tracer mode and if that fails we've got Cerebro ­ its easier to trace one of us that is familiar to Charles than an unknown so the shield shouldn't affect that. Get Rogue to the blackbird to warn the others then hone in on me wherever I am. *

Logan's first instinct was to tell her to go to hell, no way lady. Realistically he knew this was their best chance though.

"Get ready," muttered Gambit, "we need to follow them down de alley." At Logans' perplexed look he smiled. "Sometimes, homme, the oldest tricks really are de best."

The door to the club burst open and Jean and Rogue ran out, following a boy clutching Jeans bag to his chest. The boy shot down the alley and the two women pursued. Gambit led Logan around the back where the two alleys intersected and as the boy ran past shot his hand out and around Jeans' neck. He pulled her into a chokehold and smoothly covered her nose and mouth with the cloth he held in the other hand. Her struggles stopped almost immediately. He turned to regard Logan who stood over the form of the other woman, unconscious on the floor. Logan hefted her over his shoulder and held up a hand. "I know take it somewhere else. I'll be back after I've visited that nice convenient river of yours."

Gambit grinned, shouldering his burden. "You don' dally now y'hear. I wanna move this lady `for sunup."

Logan made sure no one was following them before he put Rogue down. The girl immediately punched him in the chest.

" How could you let her do that," she demanded angrily.

"How was I supposed to stop her," he demanded. "I hate this but she's right. This is our best shot at this. You get your ass back to the blackbird and warn Storm and Cyke what's happened. I'm staying damn close to Jean just to be sure."

He could tell the kid wasn't happy but they both knew what they had to do.

"Fine," she muttered. "Leave me to tell the man who can blow a whole in a mountain with a pissy look that his girlfriends just been kidnapped by the Psychos who we came down here to stop and that it's all okay `cos we let it happen."

Logan smiled. "See," he said turning away, "I never get the fun parts."

Storm was just beginning her descent through the tree line when a stirring of the air forewarned her of danger. She had half turned before something, someone, rammed her at tremendous speed. With a cry she slammed into the canopy and became entangled there. Dazed, she struggled to free herself of the branches all about her, calling a strong gust to stop her fall. She rose to clear air only to have to acrobatically avoid a branch the size of a small sapling being wielded by a tall, muscular woman like a baseball bat. She watched in fascination as the woman was thrown backward by a blast from Cyclops below, stunned as the woman smacked into and through two tree tops before righting herself and coming back for more. Lightening crackled and missed as Storm fired and she evaded, coming around behind Storm for another attack. Hands seized her hair and swung her savagely into the tree from whence she had just come. Her cry of rage was matched by the other woman's scream as this time, Storms lightning hit home. The woman crashed to the ground, but didn't stay there. With a disbelieving heart Storm watched as the woman simply uprooted the tree she was tangled in and slammed it into the next, causing several others to crash down upon her. The last thing Storm felt before blackness took her was the feeling of being trapped as the branches closed in all around her.

Storms initial cry of warning as she was attacked had galvanised Cyclops into action, taking the first clear shot he had at the mutant attacking Storm. That the blast took her through two trees and she still came back for more shook him. He had hit her harder than he had intended. Finding that fine balance in his control of getting the job done without actually killing someone was precious to him. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that was a line he did not wish to cross. He gathered himself for a second stronger blast but had to re-sight at the last minute as he was rushed by two leafy figures that simply rose up from the ground before him. Vines swirled up around his ankles, binding them in place and with a start he realised they were part of the two mutants he faced. He hit them with a wide dispersal beam that knocked them flying before using more precision to free his feet. He backed away carefully as they came at him again, this time too far apart for one shot. If he took out one at this range the other would have him before he could fire again. He had just managed to work himself into a good position when they simply stopped. With sudden insight he tried to dive to one side, sensing the trap. It was already too late. The chain mesh dropped from above like a great fishing net, driving him to his knees. Before he could blast free he arched in a violent spasm as electrical energy shot through him, mouth open in a soundless scream.

Darkness all around, heavy and oppressive. Storms panic threatened to engulf her as she opened her eyes. *It's happening again * her mind shrieked. It took all of her prodigious calm to realise where she was and the danger they were in. They. Cyclops. She gathered herself and blasted her way free of the remains of the tree that had surrounded her. Shaking debris and muck from her hair she surveyed the scene about her. Of Cyclops there was no sign. She searched for the best part of an hour before determining to return to the Blackbird to try the more powerful equipment there.

Storms rush up the ramp was halted by the realisation that the ramp was open in the first place. They had left the plane secured. More carefully she ascended, in a fighting crouch and it was with great relief that Rogue appeared at the top of the doorway.

"Thank the goddess," she muttered.

"Storm, you look dreadful," cried Rogue rushing forward to help her. "Where's Cyclops?" she asked, stopping, suddenly aware he wasn't with her.

Storm shook her head, "let's get inside. I'll explain everything to all of you, but I'd rather do it only once."

"This is all of me," wailed Rogue and in a gush she spilled out the whole nights' events as they had occurred.

"So Logan is taking Jean to this "boss"?" Storm said finally a little later.

Rogue nodded, "but where's Scott?"

Storm slumped in her seat and recounted what little she knew of what had happened in the swamp. "After the first blast I did not have much time to spare to determine what was happening on the ground. I assumed that Scott was dealing with his own foes and no longer able to assist. When I recovered there was no sign of him, or of what had transpired besides some churned up ground. I can only hope that he is well, but we must locate him and Jean both. Do you remember how to operate the tracer system?"

Rogue nodded.

"Then you begin that process, I'll contact the Professor. He must be appraised of this."

Thirty minutes later they were preparing once again to venture into the swamp.

"Think we'll do any better in daylight?" asked Rogue regarding the dawn with scepticism.

"We have no choice ­ I did not realise that I was unconscious for so long. If the professor is right both Scott and Jean are in the centre of that swamp area that we have not yet been able to penetrate. The professor is unable to establish contact with them but assures me they are both alive, if not conscious. Logan too is at the location."

"Guess we're the cavalry then," said Rogue sounding less than convinced.

Scott's mind groped its way to wakefulness and not a small amount of residual pain. His kept his eyes firmly closed and his breathing even while he tried to gauge where he was. His first and immediate concern was to check his visor was still in place. His relief at finding it so was tempered by the next realisation, that he was lying flat on his back on a cold metallic surface and firmly pinioned by restraints across his forehead, chest, wrists, thighs and ankles. In short he could barely move a muscle and certainly not reach his visor to free himself. He slowly opened his eyes, straining to take in his surroundings in the periphery of his vision. Medical lab of some sort he thought to himself. His uniform had been removed and he wore only a light, greyish coloured pair of drawstring pants. He pushed against the restraints again, testing them.

"Ah... Mr Summers, you are awake."

The soft voice seemed to float at him out of the shadows outside his view.

"You know my name," he managed. "What's yours?" His throat felt unbearably dry and his voice to his own years came out in a groggy croak. The figure that strode into view was only vaguely recognisable as the man who had earlier called himself Mr Essex. His skin was a dull matt silver, his hair jet black with equally black eyes.

"Sinister is one name I have used in my long years. If you need to put a name to me that is as good as any other I think. And yes, Scott Summers, I know your name and more besides. It may startle you to know that I observed you for a time after your gift materialised. I was distracted by other matters at the time and lost track of you." He punctuated his speech by attaching a series of probes and electrodes to Scott's bare skin on forehead, chest and arms. At Scott's renewed struggles he snorted. "Save your strength Mr Summers, I have a great deal to accomplish here and I will not be pleased if we have to delay while you over exert yourself." He inserted an IV in Scott's arm, taking several blood samples before injecting him with a clear liquid.

"Just what do you think you're doing mister!" Scott ground out as Sinister turned his back on him, moving to a powerful electron microscope.

Sinister straightened and regarded Scott. "I've searched for you for a long time and this confirms my theory. Your DNA will form one of two strands of a template I am working on that will ensure the future of the mutant race and be my legacy. And my greatest weapon of course," he added almost as an afterthought. "I have powerful enemies. I'm sorry that there is not a more comfortable way to achieve my ends, but the chemical composition tests I require can only produce accurate results when great stress is placed on the subject. The stimulants I have given you will heighten the sensations further." He didn't sound particularly sorry to Scott. Sinister turned and fiddled with another piece of equipment, inputting commands into a computer console.

Scott jerked and gritted his teeth and a wave of painful sensations washed over his body, sweat standing out on his pale skin as these were joined by a welter of mental and emotional images that augmented them. Sinister checked the heart and blood pressure monitors and smiled in satisfaction. "Now we leave to simmer," he muttered, "while I check on my other guest."

Jean woke to a stiff neck, slumped over as she was in a chair in a room devoid of other furnishings. Gambit immediately rose from his position on the floor to a more alert posture. Sinister smile as he entered.

"Just in time it would seem. Welcome Dr Grey."

Jean rubbed the bridge of her nose as she studied her position. The man before her was shielded against her probes or mental bolts ­ that much was clear at a glance. His telepathic ability seemed very different somehow to her own and seemed skewed toward misdirection rather than "pure" telepathy.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, keeping up the pretence for now.

He shrugged, "I require your assistance in my work here. As a forerunner in your field you should appreciate the project if not the means of coming into it. Evolution of the mutant species my dear, along with the creation of the most powerful mutant on the planet has long been my life's goal. I am close to achieving that now thanks to a very fortunate occurrence indeed. I need only to find a suitable telepath to complete the work and with your access to mutant records I'm sure you can assist me there too."

Jean froze, wondering if he had guessed or knew her own talent.

"In theory if you combine a powerful and renewable energy source with the DNA of the telephatic gene in a mutant you create the perfect offspring. One that of course can be moulded and raised to appreciate my outlook on the world order, and place in it. I have just acquired that long sought power source and you will use your medical skills to assist me in his study. The recombination sequence of mixing the DNA will determine all in this matter."

"So that's what this is all about," she muttered before she could stop herself, growing angrier by the minute. "The mutants who have been reported missing down here she added quickly ­ your doing?" Sinisters eyes narrowed. "Not widely reported my dear, my people are very good. How then is it that you know of such disappearances?" He pulled her roughly to her feet.

She realised there was nothing more to be gained in charade and shook him off, slamming the approaching Gambit with a mental bolt that knocked him out cold. *Wolverine * she sent urgently, *I need help here now. *

Wolverine stiffened as her thought was cut off abruptly with a lingering feeling of blackness. He surged to his feet, startling the surrounding men and stormed toward the exit of the small room Gambit had left them in.

"You can't go no where," one of them protested putting his arm out to stop him. Wolverines rage, however, had kicked in the minute he realised Jean was in serious trouble. The men in the room never stood a chance as he tore through the locked door and rampaged toward the centre of the complex.

Danvers hefted Jeans limp body and looked inquiringly at Sinister. He looked thoughtfully at Gambit then motioned for the woman to bring her.

"There is more to Dr Grey than first appeared. Your timing is as ever impeccable and we should now proceed with haste." He took a blood sample from Jeans arm and studied it in a small side lab. "Fascinating. I'll have to try recombination to be sure, but this looks like the perfect match to our power source."

"Coincidence ?" asked Danvers flustered.

Sinister smiled without humour. "That I do not believe in. Pre destiny perhaps, for if this is the match not even nature should be able to keep them apart ­ life will find a way I just plan to skip the messy experimentation that goes with it and help it right along to its natural conclusion."

He was interrupted by alarm bells ringing through the complex. "Find out what it is," he snarled. "Deal with it. I'm too close for interruptions now." He took Jean from Cargil and made his way to the main lab. He rummaged in a freezer cabinet briefly before returning with a hypo which he jabbed into Jeans arm. "I'm well prepared for telepath my dear, for your kind are too unpredictable by far." As Jean groggily awoke he strapped her arms firmly to the chair she was in.

"What?" she muttered. Her head felt like it was packed in layers of wool.

"Don't try to use your powers my dear," he muttered "the drug I have given you severely inhibits your neural pathways and will last for some time yet."

Jean took in her surroundings, slowly becoming more alert as long as she didn't try to use her power. "Scott!" she whispered in horror. Sinister looked at her sharply. "My, my will surprises never cease. You already know each other."

He turned back to the bank of equipment he had been studying. "A resilient young man," he said without emotion, "but resistance is with its limitations." He jerked a dial around and Scott arched on the lab table, a scream torn from his throat as he threshed.

"Stop it, you're killing him," Jean yelled.

Sinister leant down toward her, his hands resting on the arms of the chair she was bound to. "No," he said flatly "that would not serve my purpose. His pain does however." He turned back to his machines as a thin trickle of blood ran from Scott's nose.

"The shields are down," said Storm urgently, her tracking device suddenly alive in her hand. "We're right on top of it, literally" she added as an afterthought looking around at her feet.

"What if it's a trap?" asked Rogue nervously.

Storm regarded the younger woman with some sympathy. "It may well be," she said softly, "but we must help our friends and end this. Here," she exclaimed, "a ventilation shaft." She looked puzzled. "It had electronic anti ­ intruder devices."

"Had?" queried Rogue.

"They do not appear to be working."

Far below they could both hear the sounds of shouting and explosions. "It seems they may have other problems and are as yet unaware of us," she smiled

Wolverine tore the last circuitry out of the generator and looked around for a way, any way out of here. The mixture of mutants and humans had him pinned in this blasted room so he was dammed if he wasn't gonna take advantage of it and trash their little toys while he was here.

The wall behind him shuddered and then blew in. Storm strode through the opening. She smiled at Logan. "I trust you have left something for use to do."

"How?"

"Your locator!" sang Rogue from the corridor beyond, "now get your hairy butt out here and tell us where they're keeping Jean and Cyclops."

Wolverine was already in the corridor before he pulled up sharply, "Cyclops!" he exclaimed, "I didn't know he was here too."

They ran down the corridor, searching for a way down a level where Wolverine knew the main part of the complex to be. Storm blasted electrical energy back down the corridor behind them to discourage pursuit.

"We were ambushed in the swamps. I believe they got him while he was attempting to help me."

Wolverine grunted. "Here," he snarled slashing open the doors to the elevator shaft. He looked down, "you carry Rogue I can get down the cable."

Storm nodded and without further talk they descended emerging in the same way that had entered, with a rending of adamantium claws.

"Welcome to the twilight zone," muttered Logan as he took in a corridor identical to the one above. As Storm moved to go one way he stopped her. "This way he said at last pointing in the opposite direction, I can smell Jean she came this way."

Sinister looked up in annoyance as the door was flung open. Gambit stood there staring at the scene inside. "Gambit, find Danvers and assist her. Now." He snarled when the man failed to respond immediately.

"Gambit don't think so mon ami," Gambit said softly, slowly advancing into the room. "Gambit got a clear head right now and he don' think you been straight with him."

Sinister stood and his eyes flashed silver for a moment, freezing Gambit where he stood, but the man shook it off.

"No, homme that wont be working again. The lady here she done something that made me remember." He looked square at Jean. "Gambit owe her for that, and don't like what he been doing for you just lately." In a flash he had a charged card out and flung at Sinister. The man shimmered for a moment then shrugged off the blast with no apparent difficulty. "You forget Gambit, my molecular structure is unstable. Your particular type of energy or a mere physical attack is useless against me."

Gambit grinned without humour. "Fair enough," he muttered and lunged for Jean, tearing her free of the Chair and shielding her back toward the corridor.

"No," she cried, "Scott."

He looked past Sinister to the lab beyond. "Gambit come back for your friend Chere, but right now he get you out eh?"

"Think again swamp boy," came a snarl from behind.

Danvers punch knocked Gambit straight through the wall and into the corridor beyond. He slithered to a stop at Storms' feet.

"Forget him he's one of them," snarled Wolverine as Storm bent to help him.

"No Logan," yelled Jean "he tried to help me". She struggling with Sinister as Danvers advanced on the four.

Gambit opened his eyes to stare into the prettiest ones he'd laid eyes on in a long while. "Sugar, you sure picked a strange moment to switch sides," muttered Rogue when she was sure he was alive.

"That's what I said to your friend there a while back," he muttered gesturing at Wolverine.

Danvers smiled nastily. "Ooh look, it's the weather woman ­ haven't we met before when I kicked your ass?"

Storms eyes went flat and she slammed the woman back with a hurricane force blast of wind, mortar crumbling at the impact. Wolverine used the distraction to slip past them and go after Sinister, who had dragged Jean back toward the lab. As he entered Sinister drew a cane from the workbench, yanking out the concealed sword within.

"I do not have time to tarry with you fools," he muttered.

"Make time," said Wolverine flatly looking around quickly to check on Jean. She was slumped on the ground, groggily trying to stand. He could see Cyclops beyond her, still securely restrained to some sort of contraption. He rolled to avoid a jab at his midsection and slashed backward as he came to stand. The hiss of sparks as his claws slid of the other mans body startled him.

Sinister grinned savagely. "Your pathetic little kitty claws will not effect me" he snapped as he lunged again. Logan stepped inside the attacked and used a shoulder throw to slam the mutant into a wall.

"Well, they ain't all I got," he muttered circling, ready for the next move.

The battle between Storm and Danvers surged to and fro in the corridor beyond. With every step Danvers seemed to gain the advantage as she kept the quarters too tight for Storm to use her lightning without injuring those around them. Gambit launched an attack from behind, but as fast as they appeared to hurt her she recovered. There wasn't a mark on her, her skin seemingly indestructible and her physical strength without measure. Rogue could only look on helplessly as the Cajun was slammed into a wall with such force she heard his ribs break. Still he struggled to his feet, swaying with exhaustion. Storm likewise was far from fresh and not nearly recovered from her earlier battle with the black woman. Flinging Storm into Gambit and advancing on them, Rogue finally saw her chance. She leapt onto the woman's back and touched a bare hand to her neck. She meant full well to break the contact swiftly but the mutant howled in rage and grabbed her wrist in an iron grip.

Rogue screamed as the bone broke and she couldn't pull free. The other woman arched in pain, suddenly aware of the danger but unable through shock to let go. In seconds that seemed to span a lifetime for Rogue she was suddenly standing in the corridor with the other woman at her feet. Other woman, herself? She didn't know anymore where she ended and the other creature began. She was torn between the desire to destroy those before her and the sure knowledge that they were her friends. She wasn't even aware she was screaming, crying out until Storm bore her gently to the floor and tried to comfort her, crooning nonsense words to try to get her back to reality. Finally she subsided, watching as Rogue simply rocked back and forward with a blank look on her face, silent tears running freely now. She looked at Gambit who was clearly in no fit state to fight.

"Stay with her," she instructed "but don't touch her bare skin." He swallowed hard and nodded, stunned by what he had just witnessed and took the girl into his arms ignoring the pain in his chest. "C'mon petite, don cry. Gambit look out for you chere."

Storm staggered into the room beyond. Jean had managed to free Scott of the machinery Sinister had been using on him, but could not release the metal restraints that held his now unconscious form to the lab table.

"Take over here," grunted Wolverine as another attack with his claws failed and he spun away to use them to better effect on freeing Scott. Storm lashed out with gale and then ice to little affect. Sinister simply changed his molecular structure to withstand the attack. With Scott slumped in Jeans lap beside the table Logan charged back into the fray to help her and was nearly fried when Sinister avoided a lightening strike she launched at him.

"Hey, watch it sister," he yowled as he dived aside.

Storm swayed on her feet. "My apologies Wolverine," she muttered panting, "I'll ask him to stay solid next time."

Scott opened his eyes slowly, barely aware of anything, his body almost numb with the shock and shivering wildly.

"Easy," he heard Jean say in his ear. "Don't try to move love." He could taste coppery blood in his mouth. *Bit my lip * he thought detached, as he became vaguely aware of the combat going on around him. He felt Jean ease him down to the floor, as she struggled to her feet trying to focus her power to send a mental blast at Sinister. Her head still felt like it was packed in wool and the resulting bolt lacked focus or power. She doubted the mutant had even felt it. Scott somehow found the strength to get to his hands and knees, still shaking violently and craned his head up to view the carnage in the room. He was barely aware of lifting his hand to his visor but the resulting blast caught Sinister squarely in the back driving him to his knees. The blast had only been a weak one but Sinisters cry of pained outrage bore testament to its effectiveness.

"Hit him again," screamed Logan, his claws slashing and this time having effect.

With a shudder Scott complied, this one weaker than the last but if anything more effective. It seemed Sinister folded in on himself, something about the particular energy from Scott's optic blast affecting him and his ability to manipulate his molecules. As Storm lashed him with a final blast of lightning he simply shimmered and disappeared. Jean knelt beside Scott, who had slumped motionless to the floor.

"Is he gone?" asked Storm stunned.

Logan pulled his aching bones upright, "We're out'a here," he growled. "Let Chuck figure out what happened to him." Storm nodded, "I'll help Rogue and Gambit" she said quietly looking at Jean.

Logan ran a hand through his hair, glancing at Scott. "That Gambit guy okay?" he asked.

Storm smiled wryly, "as well as any of us," she muttered.

He nodded once then turned back to Scott and Jean and squatted down beside them on his haunches. He cleared his throat gruffly. "He Okay?" he asked.

Jean had tears in her eyes as she looked up at him, shaking her head softly. "I don't know, he's hurt badly. We need to get him to proper medical facilities."

Logan touched her shoulder. "Kid's got balls, he'll make it," he said gruffly as he shouldered Scott's limp form. "Christ," he muttered "who the hell decided to call him slim" he grumbled.

Gambit led an almost comatose Rogue toward the parking garage on the upper levels, assuring them that there would be an all terrain jeep there. They made it back to the Blackbird, whereupon Jean busied herself with the wounded and Storm settled in to the Pilots seat calling ahead for the Professor to get things ready to meet them. Logan looked at her askance as the jet rose into the air. " I thought you didn't like this thing?"

She flashed him an irritated look. "I don't but Scott can't do it, Jean is too distracted right now and that leaves me. I don't like it doesn't mean I can't."

Logan made his way back to where Rogue and the Cajun sat. Jean had bound up his ribs and when offered the chance to accompany them had simply shrugged.

"Why not," he said softly staring at the swamp, "lord knows I can't stay here with the thieves guild out for my blood now."

Logan had taken Rogue into his arms and held her during the exchange. At Gambits questioning look he shrugged. "Kid and me got a history," he said and that was that.

Storm had recounted the battle in the corridor to them and he worried for the girls sanity.

"The professor will help her," Storm had assured them.

Gambit glanced back to where Jean sat. "Your friend, he gonna be okay too homme?"

"He ain't exactly my friend," replied Logan wryly.

Gambit raised an eyebrow and as Logan wandered back toward the pair he shrugged. "Could'a fooled me homme."

Logan looked up from where he say on the corridor floor. Storm straightened up too as Charles Xavier exited the medical ward of the mansion. He regarded the two long and hard.

"I thought I asked you two to get some rest," he chided them gently.

Neither said a word and he sighed. "Rogue will be fine" he said quietly glancing back at the door. "She was overwhelmed by the memories of the mutant she absorbed. Unfortunately the contact was too long and will have somewhat more lasting repercussions but with help she should be able to adapt."

"What do you mean," snapped Logan suddenly worried.

Xavier fixed him with a look. "It would appear that she has permanently absorbed the woman's powers and now has a whole new set of challenges to overcome."

"Holy..." Logan muttered.

"She can fly now?" asked Storm stunned.

Charles smiled. "In time as she learns to control it yes. It was her mental well being that I was more concerned with but I am satisfied that she will come to terms with this as she has the more unfortunate incidents in her past. She is a very strong young woman for all her youth. Gambit will be staying with us for a while at least. I've been able to determine that he was under Sinisters illusory influence for several years on and off. He too has done a lot in that time that he must learn to live with but I think he will make a welcome addition to the group here."

"Lock up your belongings," snorted Logan. "What makes you think he can be trusted in a team?"

Xavier smiled. "It was not so long ago that similar concerns were expressed about your ability to be part of a team."

"There's nothing wrong with a thief," Storm smiled serenely.

He looked at her askance.

"I have known a few," she said struggling to keep her smile off her face "and been one," she added at last.

Logan regarded her for a long while before turning back to Xavier. "And...?" he prompted.

"Does it cost you so much to be concerned Logan?" asked Charles gently.

He shrugged, "we ain't expected to like each other ­ keeps you lot on your toes."

"Ahh," said Charles with amusement in his eyes. "Scott will be fine with rest." he said finally. "The tests" ,he used the word as if something distasteful had settled in the air about him, "were debilitating enough as I'm sure you can understand. Using his power in such a weakened state very nearly killed him. Now get some rest," he said forcefully.

Jean gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Scott's forehead, regarding the sleeping man intently. She had removed his glasses briefly, something that she knew he would not have approved of but now more than ever she wanted to look on him without them and fix his features in her mind. "You almost went away today," she said softly "and I don't think I could bear that." She leant forward and kissed him lightly on the lips before putting his glasses back on. The errant lock of hair slipped down again and she smiled.

"Stubborn," she murmured. "Always so stubborn."

She sat in silence for a while, just watching him sleep. She looked up startled as a shadow fell over her in the dimly lit room.

"Sorry," Logan said simply. "Didn't mean to scare you."

She sighed and folded her arms about herself. Smiling nervously she stood. "You know that the professor thinks he's still alive?" she asked quietly glancing at Scott.

He shrugged. "Next time we know what hurt him. Paybacks a bitch they say."

"Shouldn't you be in bed," she said smiling warmly at last.

He shrugged, "figured you could use the rest and I slept already." At her startled look he quirked an eyebrow. "Don't go readin' anything into this" he said at last, "just get some rest. I'll watch over our glorious leader for a while."

As Jean left the room with a final lingering look at the sleeping man Logan settled into a chair beside the bed with his feet up on the cabinet beside it and arms crossed over his chest.

 

Fini