Once he was certain that Ororo was out of ear shot he called forth a quartet of his personal mercenaries. He began to walk from the room and they followed, forming a shallow arrowhead as they did so. Magneto spoke with succinct command. “Scan the area. Keep Wolverine away from here.”
Longshot cast Magneto an appraising look. “You think he stayed behind?”
Magneto’s eyes narrowed into slits, his posture tense. “I know he did.” He could not only feel the pull of Wolverine’s adamantium laced bones, but more than that he knew the man. Wolverine had sounded more than a bit determined to get to Ororo, and when the Wolverine was determined he was a force unto himself.
Magneto wondered briefly if he and the white haired weather witch had been intimately involved. Last he had known Logan had been harboring lustful intent for the redhead telepath, Jean Grey. She had been the reason Wolverine had betrayed Magneto and ultimately turned on him.
What delicious justice if Magneto could turn Ororo on Logan.
Rabbit, one of Magneto‘s mercenaries, gifted with a speed that rivaled Quicksilver’s asked, “Kill him, sir?”
The cloaked man smirked, his chuckle was cold and full of malice. “By all means you can try.” He turned, snatching up his cape, swishing it about his black, well polished boots as he did. Over his shoulder he called, “He must be kept away from here at all costs.”
All four mercs nodded solemnly. It went unsaid that they would lay down their lives for their leader. There was no hesitation from any of the men, instead they all looked only too eager to try and bag the elusive and legendary Wolverine.
“Longshot, with me.” Magneto demanded, his steps hastening.
With a scowl, Longshot followed Magneto through the dimly lit corridor. He swore the metal walls pulsed as the older man passed. “What exactly are we doing?”
Ignoring the question Magneto issued another command. “Prepare the copter to leave immediately.”
Longshot didn’t like the sound of that. He had worked hard to establish a clandestine base of operations close to Genoshan shore. Although he had worked with Magento before, he was not a member of the Brotherhood, nor did he like being ordered about as though he was one of the puppets Magneto orchestrated. “Why?”
“Wolverine.”
“But you just sent--”
“Four men to their graves.” Magneto cut in. “We need to get her out of here.”
“Why? She already chose to stay. You saw her, she only wants Mojo.”
“He won’t care.”
Arthur watched the older mutant speculatively, a startling revelation dawning on him. “You’re afraid of Wolverine.”
A look that could have been disgust washed over Magneto’s weathered face. “Don’t be ridiculous. I fear no man.” He snapped his fingers, two of his standard guards flanking him as he strode the hall. “We leave in five minutes, ‘Shot!”
Despite Magneto’s sharp denial, Longshot knew he had hit the proverbial nail on the head. Magneto was scared. Longshot glanced over his shoulder back towards the monitoring room, wondering what kind of man could make the most fearless mutant liberator and one of the world’s most powerful men on the planet tuck tail and run.
Wolverine hauled himself onto the dock, water sluicing from his face as he tore off the snorkel mask, tossing it aside carelessly. He panted, catching his breath. Swimming was not something that came easy for him; in fact it took a hell of a lot out of him to keep his 300 plus pound adamantium laced frame from sinking to the bottom of the ocean. It was akin to running back to back marathons for a normal human.
He coughed twice and blew a sharp breath from his mouth, spitting salt water. The click of readying automatic weapon caused his head to jerk up. Not twenty feet from him a man stood, armed to the teeth and waiting patiently for Wolverine’s attention. Mistake number one. Never give your enemy an opportunity to see it coming.
Wolverine’s teeth gleamed in a feral snarl. He flicked his hair back from his eyes. “Don’t want no trouble with you, boy.”
The wiry looking man steadied the barrel of his weapon at Logan. “Funny. I don’t much care what you want.”
Wolverine slowly started to rise, already scenting others nearby. “I’m just here for my girl.”
“Don’t move!”
A quick scan spotted the three other men hiding. One, tall and rugged, behind some crates, one by a boat and one other sneaky bastard was actually blending into shadows on the ground. “Let’s not do anything stupid,” Logan cautioned, a plan of attack already in place.
The wiry man cocked his head. “Heard you healed real fast. Let’s test that--”
-SNIKT-
Wolverine was in motion before the other man’s index finger so much as twitched. Fighting came easier than breathing for Wolverine. It was inherent, a part of his nature, cultivated and enhanced unnaturally by the government. It was beautiful and terrifying to watch him fight. He moved with fluid grace and deadly accuracy.
Wiry-man’s head rolled from his body onto the ground with a double thunk, blood spraying skyward like a crimson geyser. Quick as the others could blink, Logan reached into the pocket of his uniform and removed a flash grenade, lobbing it at the shadows. He didn’t bother to register the scream of the man the flash effected, instead he leapt into the air with the feral grace of a predator and sliced down the crates, effectively separating the other gunman from his right arm.
“Fuck!” The man screeched. He turned on Wolverine, opening his mouth and emitting a volatile gas.
Logan gagged, dropping back to get some space. “Listerine…” he gasped, his eyes watering against the nerve toxin spreading in his system. His healing factor, already in overdrive due to the adrenaline, quickly compensated.
A swipe of arm and the man lost his jaw. He gurgled, dropping to his knees.
Logan whirled, his teeth bared. “Next.”
The remaining mercenary stepped from behind the boat and smiled.
Logan tensed.
Two fire glowing hands spread apart. As Logan watched the man’s entire body began to glow, splotching with various colors. “For victory!”
Not good. “Shit.”
The docks exploded as the man clapped, self destructing and wiping out everything within 500 feet.
In her quarters Ororo tensed, feeling the ground shake. It wasn’t an earthquake--or anything else natural for that matter. She braced her hand on the wall, steadying herself. A sudden wave of unease washed over her and she swung open her door, greeted by Longshot.
“We’re leavin’.” He grabbed her arm above the elbow.
“What was that?” She demanded.
“Nothing.”
She glowered, arctic eyes swirling in warning. “Don’t lie to me. What was that?”
He tugged her into the hall, nearly frog marching her towards the far doorway. “Explosion.”
“Well, duh.”
“Then what the hell did you ask for?”
“What exploded?”
“Probably Vincent.”
She blinked. “What?”
Longshot stopped, his right eye beginning to glow in his irritation. “Not a what, a who. One of Magneto’s men.” His tone implied that he somehow blamed her for the man’s death.
“What’s the hold up, Longshot?” Magneto’s deep barritone called from the now open door.
“Nothing. We’re on our way.” He glared at Ororo. “Now come on!”
She began walking, still questioning. “Where are we going?”
“Where no one can find us.”
Ororo knew then. “The Savage Land.”
“Move it.” He didn’t confirm or deny.
“Why are we running?” But once again, she already knew the answer, instinctively. Wolverine.
Longshot held the door for her. “You’re not stupid, Storm. Stop pretending to be. The helicopter is waiting.”
Sure enough, outside the door, a few hundred feet away a helicopter sat, blades beginning a slow spin. Ororo paused, hesitating for the first time since her decision to avenge Ali. Could she do this? Could she go to the Savage Land with Magneto of all people? Could she betray everything she had believed in? Logan? Scott? Herself?
“You came to us, remember. Come on!” Longshot shouted, practically hauling her towards the copter. He looked past her shoulder, his eyes widening.
His sharp command to run caught her attention, and she turned.
Logan, bloody, burnt and still smoldering from whatever explosion he had just endured dropped from the rooftop. He landed with a thud, sinking to one knee. Silver was visible through most of his face and upper body. He had been blown to pieces.
Logan struggled to rise. A low growl tore from his throat, not anger, but pain. He refused to give up, however, and he wobbled to his feet.
“Oh, God,” Ororo whispered. Her heart, the one that she believed cold and dead in her chest, bled for him. Her ears roared with the sounds of the rotor as well as the ocean and her own heartbeat.
Logan reached out one hand. “’Roro…”
She started towards him.
“No!” Magneto shouted, his tone brooking no argument.
Ororo ignored him. Logan needed her. She broke into a run. “Logan!”
Through the red haze of the blood filming his eyes Logan saw Ororo sprinting towards him, her sweet voice hollering his name. “Baby…” he rasped, taking a shaky step. He was instantly flung backwards by a magnetic pulse, his torn body spread wide on the ground, causing him to scream in agony.
Ororo screamed with him. “No!” She whirled on Magneto. “Stop it!”
“Get in the helicopter!” Magneto ordered.
Logan screamed again, his claws extending involuntarily. “Aaauuuugh!”
“Stop it!” Ororo lifted her hand, lightning dancing from her fingertips.
“You dare threaten me, girl?” Magneto closed his hand into a fist and Logan convulsed, doubling forward. “Come. Now. Or watch him die. I wonder if I can peel that metal from his bones…”
Ororo for the first time since Ali died felt tears on her face. “Enough.” She dropped her hand. If she could get close enough she could subdue Magneto, she hoped. “I’m coming. Let him go.”
On the ground Logan struggled against the oppressive weight pinning him to the ground. “…’Ro…no.”
Magneto didn’t release his hold even once Ororo was at the door. “Don’t be foolish like that again, child.” He pressed his hand on her shoulder.
Ororo cast Logan’s form a longing look. I’m sorry. So sorry. “Let him go.”
“Very well.” With a flick of his wrist Magneto pulsed a wave of magnetic energy so strong it plowed Logan into the ground, sending him sliding into the building.
“Log--” Ororo blinked, her hand rising to her neck. She turned accusatory eyes on Longshot, who held a syringe in his hand. His eyes, were steady, as if willing her to understand some secret message. “You came to us,” was the last thing Ororo heard before she blacked out. Longshot caught her before her head hit the rail.
Magneto took a moment to gaze at the unconscious Wolverine. He could tear him apart. The urge was strong, overwhelming. He started forward, intent on doing just that when he heard the screech of the X-Men’s blackbird.
If he was to get airborne and out of range before they arrived again, he needed to move. And move now.
On board the helicopter Magneto gave the ground and Wolverine one last disgruntled look. “Damn the X-Men and their accursed timing. My revenge must be put on hold once more.”
Longshot nonchalantly examined his fingernails. “Must be his lucky day.”
“Ororo!” Logan bolted upright, his hand reaching out.
“Easy, Wolverine.” Charles Xavier sat in his wheelchair at the end of Logan’s bed. Scott was also in the room, leaning against the back wall, the look on his face murderous.
“What’s goin’ on?” Logan demanded. “Did we get ‘Ro?”
“No.” Scott said flatly. “But we were never intended too.”
Logan pushed himself off the bed to his feet, ignoring the lingering soreness in his side. “What’s that supposed to mean, Scooter?”
Scott straightened away from the wall. “You wanna field this one, Xavier?”
The Professor’s mouth thinned. Obviously there was some bad blood between Golden Boy and Mentor. Logan didn’t care about that, all he wanted to know was where ‘Ro was.
“Perhaps it would be best if you took a seat once more, Logan.” Charles began.
“I don’t wanna sit. I want some fuckin’ answers,” he all but snarled.
“Maybe I can help.”
Logan took a step back. In his doorway, dressed in black leather and looking surprisingly good for a dead girl, Alison Blaire offered him a crooked smile.
______________________________________________
To be continued in "Divergence"...
