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The Distant Calls of Fall
Chapter #08 “Expecting the Unexpected”, Part 3


Section X HQ, Texas
Sunday, November 14th, 2004
5:53 a.m. CST

Alexa Gabler rubbed at her eyes, the only indication that she was well past tired. She was due to meet her skeletal team on the take-off pad in a little over an hour, on their way to the Russian/Ukrainian border. An old lead in Victor’s profile prompted a hunch that he might be holding out there, and so The Powers That Be wanted to make that her team’s first stop.

However, before she left, a nagging feeling kept her up the night before, pouring through the files she’d pegged as connecting the Howlett brothers. Her original theory that in order to find Victor, they should actually be looking for Christoph Nord was regarded highly by Forge; not so much by his superiors, who’d turned to a think tank of mutants to theorize and hypothesize where they thought Creed would run to. It annoyed Alexa greatly, but she was the consummate ‘team player’”when she needed to be”and was willing to bide her time chasing the ghosts that the Think Tank Mutants sent her after, while setting up her own course of action. Once the big wigs discovered they were wrong, she’d be ready with a real plan.

Scrolling through several gigabytes of surveillance photos taken over the past decade or so, she noted with a little ire how little they’d been able to get on Victor. A random sighting here and there”which usually resulted in the recon agent’s death once Vic discovered he was being tailed”wasn’t much to go on. Most of the surveillance was actually on James Howlett.

After some issue with the Colonel’s now-deceased daughter, he seemed to head into a tailspin that resulted in the ‘training accident’ that past summer. Alexa wasn’t really interested in the man’s emotional or psychological issues however; how, and more importantly, where he spent most of his time that fateful summer, did.

Although they were at odd angles (in an attempt to stay downwind of the man’s hyper-sensitive nose), Alexa scrolled through more than just a few photos of James Howlett and an elegantly tall, striking woman with dark caramel skin and cloud-white hair. One picture captured them on the beach in the Southamptons; their bodies’ dispositions made it clear they were in an argument. It was past dusk outside, so the night lens of the camera brought their features out in a sort of stark reality typical of images captured after dark. In passing she noted the date, and kept scrolling through the images captured of Howlett and this woman, who it was obvious he held some attachment to.

She remembered seeing something about a new civilian relation in the up-to-date file always kept on active (and most inactive) agents, so searched the agency’s database with her clearance. It didn’t take long to get a ‘hit’ on the woman’s identity, and Alexa spent a few minutes quickly scanning through the information compiled about her. Most of it had nothing to do with Howlett whatsoever, but in the interest of being thorough, Section X’s files rarely left out minute details from intel reports.

Just to be nosy at that point, she also did a cursory search of the woman’s known associations, and her brow went up a few notches at some of the names in the results. A world-renowned doctor, the former Ambassador to Genosha”her adopted father”a hot movie star was a close, old friend, and oh, what was this..?

An image of T’Chaka, the current ruling king of the Wakkandan-Kenyan alliance, and his eldest son T’Challa standing by his side also graced the woman’s file. In the image’s notes, it briefly explained the blood ties she has with the royal family. Alexa almost chuckled; thinking about the sort of people James Howlett has and had in his long life.

After the few minutes of digging, she decided there didn’t appear to be anything of any merit, and since her time was short, went ahead and ejected the disc containing her files on the Creed/Howlett/Nord case. While she showed the top brass she was in line with their idiotic plan of “Where in the World is Victor Creed?” Alexa Gabler intended to keep up her own investigation while they were out in the field. Something still wasn’t quite feeling right about the dynamics between the three men, but one thing she was sure of, was that Nord wouldn’t possibly give up the chance of sticking it to Howlett by way of Creed if at all possible. She just hoped that she could find that missing piece of the puzzle before it was too late.




The Bronx, NY
6:53 a.m. EST

The apartment building wasn’t the seediest in this borough, but one could’ve made a case for it. Even this early in the morning, there was the distant noise of one of the downstairs tenants’ surround sound speaker system pulsing the latest in rap music”although only the bass line could be heard on the 6th floor.

Rolling over onto his back, Christoph”still wearing his “David North” disguise”let out a deep sigh; partially content, and partially of ire. Staring up at the lazily turning ceiling fan his thoughts easily drowned out the music several floors below as well as the emerging sounds of the neighborhood awakening beyond the brick walls of the brownstone. His mind churned with plans, back up plans and contingency plans for the back up plans he was now prepared to set into motion. It had taken him a good solid month to get to this point in his plot and he’d be damned if things were thrown off track now…even if that meant he had to engage in a little “give and take”.

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”

His eyes slid to the right just slightly at the break in his concentration; the sultry but airy voice against his shoulder teased his damp skin as she turned her face more toward him. Pausing before answering, Chris knew better than to try kidding a telepath. “Would it matter?”

Shrugging a golden shoulder, the woman beside him allowed a knowing smile as she came up slowly on her elbow, looking down at him pointedly. “I could say ‘I asked; what do you think?’ but I guess that’s just as academic as the original question, right?”

He only grunted at that statement, his eyes going back to the ceiling fan as he tried to refocus his thoughts. She wasn’t going to allow him to pull away that easily, though.

“You know, I told you I could make things a lot easier for you, if this was going to be a problem…” her face, hair and eyes began to shift in his view, the room beyond her wavering slightly with the tell-tale signature Chris knew too well as a telepath in his head. He knew he shouldn’t have taken that blocker off…

“Shit…stop, you’re making me dizzy”“ he grumbled, pressing his fingers to his eyes but knowing it would do no good at this point.

“What’s the matta’, Luv?” Elizabeth Xavier’s voice floated to his ears like a caress, but his rational mind knew better than to believe any of his senses.

Chris hazarded a look from behind his hand and sure enough it was now Betsy in the bed with him”an image he’d secretly dreamed about for months since arriving at the Xavier School. “Son of a”Regan, seriously; cut it out!”

Nord rose from the bed, sitting on the side and facing away from her, trying desperately to clear his head as he searched the still-dark room for his telepathic blocker. He now regretted beyond belief taking it off, but the thought of what Regan Wyngarde could do inside his head”the feelings she could illicit, weaving a picture in his mind and body of the woman he wished she was as they tumbled in the sheets of this dank apartment”was just too tempting a scenario to give up. Regan knew that as well as he did. “Hmph. I offer to let you “see” the woman you’ve obviously been pinning over and this is the thanks I get? Typical male.”

He ignored the teasing tone in her voice, his fingers scraping against the wood side table as he grasped the innocuous wrist watch that doubled as his telepathy blocker. Sliding it up his wrist and locking it into place, Nord sat still for several moments while the powerful hold of Regan Wyngarde’s illusion dissipated. “Don’t act like this is all one-sided, Regi. I can only imagine how refreshing it must be for you to actually fuck a guy who isn’t covered in as much body hair as a damned sheepdog.”

“Asshole.”

“Speaking of which, how is Victor doing these days?”

She stopped from a quick retort as Chris let his true intention for tracking her down all-too-casually slip from his lips. It was an obvious play, as he kept his back to her, still and unmoving. With one finely plucked gold eyebrow reaching her hairline, Regan sucked her teeth with a bitter laugh. “That’s what last night was about? Victor? Well, sorry to burst your bubble hon, but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of that bastard in quite some”“

“Do I look that stupid to you?” Chris interrupted, turning just barely to glare at her over his muscled shoulder. “There are only two people on this planet that could possibly know the whereabouts of Victor Creed: his only surviving son and the woman he’s been banging on a semi-regular basis for the past 12 years. Unfortunately, I can’t get close enough to the former to get anything out of him…so that’s why you’re here.”

Regan’s eyes narrowed at his tone. She’d long ago resigned herself to being one of Victor’s ‘main squeezes’ whenever he was in the States but made it no secret that she would gladly open that door to Chris Nord”should he be man enough to take her from Creed. Despite any physical attraction they may’ve had over the years”including the occasional tryst”Chris wasn’t dumb enough to think he was taking anything from Victor Creed, and in all honesty would rather leave this one fish to the stream, so to speak. Regan Wyngarde was outwardly very stunning, there was no doubt, but her personality”hard, cold and with a pleasant tendency toward backstabbing to boot”just wasn’t the sort of thing he ever needed in his life. She was best left to a casual acquaintance”one that could prove a resource at any time and just as quickly forgotten after he’d obtained the information he needed. “Oh, is that right?”

“That’s pretty much the gist of it.” Nord was quick to answer. “I need to know where he is, Regi.”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Wyngarde, so help me”“

“I can’t tell you because for almost two years I haven’t heard from Vic. It’s like he just disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

With a clenched fist, he turned toward her on the bed, “”if you’re lying”“

“I’m not. I swear. And if you don’t put that damn hand down, you’re gonna have other problems to deal with”blocker or no blocker. We clear?”

Nord hesitated for just a few brief moments before lowering his arm. He had to remember to keep his cool around Regan; for some reason she could always manage to get under his skin easier than just about anyone he knew. “…Alright.”

“That’s better.” She smiled menacingly, before sliding up behind him, pressing her naked body against his back to whisper in his ear. “Besides, you didn’t let me finish. I was going to say, since it’s obvious you’ve been uh, shall we say ‘underground’ lately, I guess you wouldn’t have the contacts I do to tell you anything about Kyle.”

That got his attention. “Kyle?? What about him?”

“He’s back in The States, from what I understand. Well, what’s left of him, anyway.”

Leaning away from her, now Chris’ brow jacked up. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Ah-ah-ahh…” She pressed a talon-like nailed finger against his lips to shush his questions. “First things first: what do you want with Vic?”

Snatching his face away from her hand, he sneered, “That’s none of your business, Regi. Just tell me what you want.”

Watching him for a silent moment, she slowly began to smile before tossing her bed-tussled dark gold locks over her shoulder in a purely seductive motion. In the years Regan Wyngarde had known Chris Nord, she’d only ever wanted one thing from him: Chris Nord. But there could be other perks to shacking up with a former Special Ops agent… “Well, if that’s your way of opening up negotiations, Chrissy”“

“Don’t call me that.”

“”then perhaps we can come to some sort of…long term arrangement.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. That is, after you’re done playing Perfect Boyfriend to that limey skank.” Regan barely kept her face straight as she openly attempted to goad Chris into another argument. Her plan to expose how deeply his feelings for this new woman went was neither pretty nor smooth, but that was the type of person Regan Wyngarde was.

It took a pause, a swallow and clenched teeth to ignore her poking, but Chris managed. “Don’t go all jealous-mistress on me, Regi. And don’t worry about what I need Victor for. If you don’t have any idea where he is, though…”

She immediately reached for his arm before Chris could slide up off the bed. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Oh, come on Chris. You know how this works. As great as you are in bed, I can’t just hand over valuable info like an ATM machine”“

He wondered why not, since she’d just let him slide in his”

“”and besides, even though I haven’t seen Victor in months, I do know who has.”

“Kyle.” Chris was interested again now and she could tell. “I can barely use any of the hacking skills I’ve learned over the years because most of them were obtained through Sect X.”

“Who would recognize every single one of them and is undoubtedly on the lookout for you.” She stroked his bulging bicep as she slid closer to him, wrapping her arms about his neck and nuzzling his jaw. “I can only imagine how sensitive their network is right now to intrusion since you’ve been on the lam.”

“Yeah.” Chris allowed only that as a response; she didn’t need to know just how tied his hands had become since his escape. Even now, here with her, he refused to take down the disguise of “David North””it was only one of two aliases he’d managed to keep the department from finding out he’d created all those years ago. “David North” was almost as ‘real’ a person as anyone…in some ways even more ‘real’ than Christoph Nord, who’d pretty much sacrificed his identity when he moved to Section X’s undercover infiltration unit XFactor. Paranoia was only one of Chris’ helpful personality traits, as he wanted to ensure that if anyone in the department knew of Victor’s affinity for temperamental, crazy blondes and had Regan tailed that they wouldn’t raise a brow at her sneaking off with a school teacher in the dead of night in the Bronx.

Regan studied his face in the silence after that short, terse answer. She wasn’t nearly as stupid as Chris wanted to pretend she should be and they’d known each other long enough he should definitely know better than to underestimate her by now. However, if he wanted to play dumb, all the easier this would be for her down the road…

“Well, as long as we have an understanding..?”

Grudgingly, Chris nodded, inwardly wondering what this was going to cost him later.

“…then I can tell you that in his absences Vic routinely expects me to keep tabs on his boy. He’ll never admit as much, but I can only assume there’s some sort of paternal attachment after what happened with Graydon.”

Chris began nodding quickly; a clear sign to ‘hurry it up’ as he wasn’t concerned with Victor’s feelings and/or insecurities.

Ignoring his impatience, Regan continued “Anyway, keeping track of Kyle is almost as hard as keeping tabs on The Man himself. Especially since Kyle didn’t make it that easy for me. I don’t have any trouble telling you I had to call in not a few favors across the world to get a feel for his movements. Hell, I’ve even got a pair of eyes inside Section X now.”

That got his attention. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” She waved her hand dismissively before he could even ask. “And the answer to your next question is ‘No’. I just got this contact a couple months ago and I can’t jeopardize it this soon. I only got involved because of Kyle. Hell, I’m sure they probably know we’re here right now; nosy bastards.”

“And that’s why you made sure to ask me if I was coming ‘in costume’.” He didn’t ask; it was a statement. Chris knew his paranoia would come in handy. All the same, he realized he had to be exceptionally careful then. He knew Regan rarely showed her true appearance”as far as he knew, she didn’t wear her ‘real’ face with Victor, who for some reason seemed to prefer a different face every two weeks, if Nord remembered correctly”and would’ve been extremely careful moving around a Sect X agent. “Well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you then that you’re right. Whoever this is you’ve dug your claws into is surely being watched. There’s a whole fuckin’ department of nosy-ass computer geek mutants whose only job is to follow around agents to catalog the people we run around with. I’m sure they’re keeping you on your toes.”

“Damned right they are.” She grinned proudly, though. “Do you know how hard it is to keep up a disguise almost 24 hours a day? Oh, wait”of course you do.”

“Careful, Regi.” Chris felt a puzzling need to warn her, “When they can’t accurately track you on the ground when you ‘switch faces’, they might turn to satellite surveillance if they think they need to. I know you’re good at living the double life, but Sect X isn’t anything to play with.”

“Oh, Chrissy…” She ignored his annoyed sigh, and turned his face toward her for a prolonged, wet kiss. “Don’t go all soft on me, now.”

When her hand reached down to stroke him Chris knew she had no worry of that.



Xavier School
Monday, November 15th, 2004
9:09 a.m. EST

The last active week before the Thanksgiving holiday break had begun over an hour ago, but Ororo felt like it was sure to pass her by. Sitting outside in the back of the grounds, she leaned against the stone bench that faced the dark pillar erected to memorialize her father. Normally, she would be just starting her second class but her four-class roster and two labs had been assumed mostly by Hank. She tried to put up a fight, arguing that he was there to relax and enjoy his sabbatical but he’d quickly countered that compared to the still-strained and difficult negotiations of Genosha, a classroom of teenagers was a vacation.

“I thought I’d come out here and bother you this morning…” she spoke quietly to the shiny obsidian stone etched with her father’s face. She inwardly remarked again how Peter had truly outdone himself with the marvelous likeness and detail the ¾ perspective angle allowed a convincing view of Charles’ expressive eyes, which were designed to look skyward but now seemed to follow her no matter where she moved. The edges of his eyes smiled along with the soft expression of the rest of his face. It was truly the image she carried in her mind of her father and would for the rest of her life. “…since everyone else actually has something to do. I’m sure you’d probably find it very funny that my siblings have effectively ousted me from the School. Well, teaching. And I bet you’d even agree with them that I should just “relax and lay low” for a few months…”

Pausing, she sighed heavily. It wasn’t anger or resentment she felt; it was actually a sardonic sort of appreciation at all the mothering but for one like Ororo, being fussed over wasn’t something she could get used to. However, once she’d returned from Dr. Matthew’s appointment and given them the news of the X-eclampsia diagnosis, it was all downhill from there in terms of the doting, mothering”and ‘fathering’”all around her. Even Remy had somehow (READ: Marie) found out and made a call to her cell, his boisterous congratulations quickly turning to concern when he remembered the younger sister’s worry when she’d let Ororo’s condition slip. Ro remembered with a mix of exasperation and fondness the next 20 minutes trying to convince Rem not to hop on a jet”leaving the set of his latest action/adventure thriller in production”to see about her.

“You’ll be proud to know that your first grandchild is getting all the attention it deserves”and then some. Heh, they deny it, but I know for a fact there’s even a betting pool going around as to the baby’s sex. It’s a little early to tell, and truth be told, I’m not sure I want to know…yet.” Ororo’s eyes fixed on the image of her father’s face, wishing so very much that he was there beside her on that bench. If she closed her eyes and relaxed, she could almost feel his spirit”or at least she wanted to. What one of his hugs would do for her right then…

“I thought I heard ye talking to someone.” Came from behind her and managed to startle Ororo as she turned behind her.

“Gracious, Beth.” She held her heart for a moment before smiling with a tinge of embarrassment. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Apologies, Luv.” She came to sit beside her, then looked over at the obelisk. “Ah. You were.”

“Yeah…”

Elizabeth didn’t say anything for a moment. She’d had a lot on her own mind over the past couple weeks and certainly could understand Ro’s need to spill any of her concerns to an ear that she knew was listening but wouldn’t be judgmental…

“I’m not ashamed to admit,” Ro was going on, “that I’ve been out here a lot lately since you guys banished me from teaching.”

With a wry but warm grin, Beth tsked at that, bumping her sister’s shoulder with her own. “I told them ye’d look at it like that. Don’t, okay? You’re supposed to be taking it easy and decreasing your stress levels, remember?”

“I remember…” Ororo was only allowed to agree.

“Marie and I are more than capable of staying on longer than we originally planned, and with Henry here now for a few months, everything will be fine. Right?” She lifted her brows to get another agreement out of her sister, coaching Ororo toward the goal.

“Right.” Came through slightly clenched teeth. No offense to her siblings, but Ororo had once witnessed Marie’s version of study hall”conducted at the mall of all places”and she knew without a doubt no matter how smart her kids were, Henry would be talking circles around most of them without even trying. The thoughts made her fight a smile, surprisingly.

“See?” Beth mistook her countenance for acceptance and patted her thigh. “Now, I’ve got a class in about 15 minutes. Care to walk with me back inside? Isn’t it time ye got something to eat anyway?”

Ignoring the fact that her sister turned on the Mother Hen routine all too smoothly, Ro did get up, about to follow Beth back toward the mansion before stopping at the obelisk and slowly running her hand over the etched image of her dad. She smiled, winking at him, and then turned toward her sister. Catching up with Beth, Ro decided to divert her sister’s train of thought with one of her own that had long been weighing on her mind. “Uh, yeah…speaking of being late: You…last night”ringing any bells?”

With the advantage of being in front of Ororo, Beth immediately schooled the slightly surprised and guilty look from her face before glancing at Ro over her shoulder as they approached the back door entrance. “Why Ororo, whatever do you mean?”

“Huh. You know exactly what I mean, missy.” Ro’s tone was slightly playful but before the two sisters stepped back into the School with Walls That Had Ears, Ro pulled on Elizabeth’s sleeve to get her to stop. “Seriously, Beth?”

With a questioning look, her bright lavender eyes met Ororo’s sincere, worried blue gaze. When Ororo reached down to grasp her fingers tightly, Beth stayed silent.

“…you know all I want is for you to be happy, right?”

Beth nodded, her mind going a million miles a minute but her expression appropriately schooled to curious neutrality as she waited for her sister’s words.

“Okay. Good. So…I guess what I’m trying to say is just”just be careful, okay?” Ororo couldn’t seem to fully express herself for some reason, hoping that if she opened her mind to her sister she wouldn’t mistake the cautionary advice for meddling or something worse. Truth be told, David had somehow warmed himself to nearly everyone in Beth’s life…that is, except Ororo. The ‘gut feeling’ she’d initially felt upon meeting the man had abated but only slightly, though she couldn’t deny the wonderful way he seemed to make her sister glow and smile all the time, even when he wasn’t around. Even overprotective Brian had found something in common with the man, and spent hours”until Beth complained and would drag David away”debating which fútbol team was best and discussing why the sport still hadn’t caught on as it should have in The States.

Beth smiled as she searched Ororo’s eyes, realizing of course that it wasn’t cynical jealousy that spurred her remark”after all, Beth had noticed Ro’s somewhat cool reception around David almost immediately”but rather a genuine need to ensure her sister’s emotional safety. She didn’t need to read her mind to figure that out. Reaching over to kiss Ro’s cheek, Beth hugged her to her side and whispered a small “Thanks” before leading the way, shoulder to shoulder back inside the School.



About two and a half hours later, Ro carried the thick novel she’d taken to passing the early mornings with her as she headed toward the kitchen. It was almost lunchtime for most of the students and faculty and she looked forward to hearing the latest ‘lounge’ talk from them about the students and the upcoming holiday. Thanksgiving was right around the corner and this year quite a few of the older Alumni planned to make an appearance throughout the week to see the School”and no doubt spy the newly pregnant Ororo. In 10 days’ time she’d get more attention than she’d ever want; that much was sure.

As she rounded the downstairs banister heading for the kitchen, she almost passed by the front foyer and missed Scott standing there, but for the sudden rise in his normally deep, calm voice. The stress she heard in his tone”somewhere between exasperation and irritation”gave her pause, but she wasn’t going to eavesdrop, assuming he was in the middle of an impromptu scolding of one of the students.

“”you’ve got to be kidding me, right? I mean, didn’t I just say--?” His voice stopped in the middle of the sentence as if he’d been cut off, but there was no other voice heard. With a deep sigh, he said curtly, “I thought I told you: Ororo and I are just friends. A couple months ago, you believed that. What the hell has changed--?”

She stopped when she heard her name, almost to the kitchen door. Who was he talking to and why did he mention her? Curiosity tugged at her, but after Scott’s voice went lower again”a strained but urgent murmur”she forcefully dragged her feet to continue walking. ‘Geez Ororo,’ She admonished herself, shaking her head with a small smile, ‘You’ve got to get a hobby but quick, girl. You’re looking forward to office gossip and now you’re eavesdropping on people. That’s just sad.’

While one of the cooks insisted on fixing her a meal, Ororo sat at the island counter top, thumbing through the pages of her book again. She paused briefly when she came to her bookmark, which she’d carelessly made out of one of the letters she’d written to Logan. It was unfinished and had remained so for several days. As she opened the stationary and began reading her words, her throat closed just a little and she realized her hand began to shake as she recalled why this letter hadn’t been finished…

‘Come on, get a grip here.’ She tried to will her feelings back into a calm state, realizing that such distressing thoughts were exactly what she didn’t need. For her sake, but especially this child’s. Distracted, she was nearly startled when the chef placed the plate of food in front of her. A “thank you” was on the tip of her tongue before Ororo looked down at the contents of her meal. The chef was moving away back to one of the ranges but stopped at Ororo’s hesitant question.

“Uhm…Gerald?”

“Yes, missus?” He turned quickly, his eyes a little wider than she’d ever remembered them before. Ororo immediately noticed that he didn’t step any closer to her.

“…what is this?” she innocently and curiously pointed to her plate.

“Your lunch, Ms. Munroe.” He had always insisted on calling her by her proper name, despite the fact they’d known each other for over half her life. One of the senior staff members, Gerald Valentine had been one of the first non-mutant staff members hired by Charles when he started his school. After about seven years of hard work”and Charles tasting the man’s red velvet cake”Gerald was made head chef. As the years passed, his role became more supervisory than active behind the range, but after Charles’ death, Gerald had silently appointed himself the personal chef of the staff; Charles’ children, in particular.

With such a rich and dedicated history, he couldn’t possibly think that Ororo was buying his innocent act for a second. It had been the same ‘act’ he’d put on for her father after his health began to decline, in order to pass off the unusually healthy (and in some cases downright sterile-tasting) meals the ambassador’s doctor-son had insisted they restrict Charles to. Glancing down at the plate, she thought ‘Always trying to catch more flies with honey, eh Gerry?’ “I see that, Gerald.”

He nodded, his posture as if he were thinking of turning to walk away. Her raised hand put a stop to that. He paused when she didn’t say anything, still looking with curiosity and”something else”at the plate. He dared to ask”with the same innocence”“Is there a problem, Ms. Munroe?”

“Well, I asked you to prepare that French toast of yours that’s pretty famous around here. Stuffed French toast, to be exact.”

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded, which only made her slightly irritated.

“Yeah…this isn’t French toast, Gerald.”

“No ma’am.”

“It’s cottage cheese”low sodium, by the dry look of it”pineapple chunks, apple slices and oh! Low-fat Triscuits! Yum.” She couldn’t help the sarcasm finally, crossing her arms as she leaned back to look at him with an accusing glare.

“Yes’m.”

Tightly, “Please explain.”

His white, pressed apron came up and an act that would normally pass for wiping his hands actually looked more like wringing his hands. Gerald Valentine remembered what his late wife Abigail had been like during each of her five pregnancies with their children. She often sported the same look Ororo Munroe was giving him right then. As a man experienced in dealing with an expectant mother, his instincts were screaming at him to run for the nearest hill. “Missus…well, you see”it’s just that Miss Marie and Miss Elizabeth thought that”“

“Ohh! So that’s who put you up to this.” She wasn’t surprised in the least.

“”and then Mr. Summers quite agreed”“

“Did he, now?” Ororo’s voice lowered and she glanced from Gerald to the plate once more. Concern was one thing, but those bastards were coming between her and Gerald Valentine’s World Famous Stuffed French Toast?? Oh, hell no.

“I”I have a list of pre-approved foods…” he knew he’d just royally fucked up the moment he opened his trap, and the last word died on his lips when her eyes drove into his, a quick flicker of white covering the blue momentarily.

“You have what?”

He barely heard the icy whisper, but guessed at her question and quickly skittered over to the range he used personally. Over it the turnstile pot hanger had a folded piece of white paper taped to the metal, and with slightly unsteady, weathered dark fingers he took it down, returning to her but stopping to reach out and hand her the list. Ororo’s eyes raked over the list like hot coals, occasionally glancing back up to Gerald as if he were still speaking or she wanted to make sure he didn’t scamper away. After her light reading was done, she neatly folded the paper back as it was and laid it on the countertop between them. With one finger stabbing it, pinned against the cold counter, she slid the paper back toward Gerald before calmly and quietly whispering to him. “That’s very good, Gerald. I appreciate your honesty. Now, I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what my sisters and the good Headmaster discussed with you.”

The older man didn’t immediately respond, watching the twinkle gleaming in her suddenly too-bright blue eyes. He’d seen that look before, several times in fact. Abby had worn it well and he was no fool; he knew it meant nothing but trouble!




Thousands of Miles Away…

The expensive Tokyo Palace Hotel was illuminated by the lights of the city’s night ambience like no other. It was a site unto itself for tourists, and believed to be one of the reasons why there was now talk of a renovation project in the coming years. The 33,600 yen (roughly 362 USD) a night to stay there was mainly the luxury of businessmen from around the globe. Tonight, it was a particular party of 3 plus1 that found themselves guests in the largest of the nine suites.

“I can’t believe how much our digs have changed,” Neena Thurman a.k.a. “Domino” turned around the room in a circle for probably the fifth time since they’d arrived. With her own admittedly humble beginnings, she’d not been exposed to quite a bit in her few years. Starting out life as a test tube baby and genetic testing experiment kind of shelters a girl, ya know?

Emerging from one of the three bedrooms in the suite, Ben Campbell allowed a smirk, watching her almost childlike awe at the obviously expensive atmosphere; she was certainly right”it was a world away from the dump back in Madripoor City.

“yorokonde moraete ureshii desu”* came from behind them smoothly but with an edge that Ben would recognize anywhere.

He turned to see the dazzling Japanese woman known only as “Yukio” watching them with an obvious pleasure. She liked to impress and she could tell they definitely were that. Despite their little known”and slightly sordid”history, Ben was all business, coming up to her with his arms crossed and head slightly cocked to the side. “Lady Yukio”or, should I say “Boss”?”

Her dark, almond-shaped eyes slowly grazed him from head to toe and back again as the sides of her lips fought a sly smile. “Ah, you heard.”

Ben’s arms came down but only to land at the belt loops at his waist as he regarded her. “When the most powerful Japanese crime family gets a new leader, that isn’t the sort of thing that stays a secret for long.”

“News travels a long way, then.”

“And quick.” His eyes suddenly softened a little, taking in her short, spiky jet black hair, down to the smooth edges of the mandarin-collared top in jet black that extended down her left arm in a billowy sleeve accented with a gold-threaded dragon design. The right arm’s sleeve was cut short at her shoulder in a rounded angle, exposing her slender but muscled bicep covered in the Yashida Clan’s tattoo. Ben’s eyes glazed over for a moment, remembering how far the intricate design coiled up her arm, across her shoulder blades and hooked down around to her”

“You are staring, Ben.” Yukio was quiet, her brown eyes watching him with an expression difficult to interpret.

It brought him back to his senses, and he cleared his throat, glad for his darker skin that burned with embarrassment though physically she couldn’t tell. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. So, this won’t pose a problem for you? Holding us up here?”

“Why would it?” She was genuinely curious.

“Well, U.S. operatives on an unsanctioned mission getting help from Clan Yashida..?” he trailed off, as if that should explain it all.

Yukio laughed, a full and almost sexy sound as she glanced past him to Neena, who was pretending to be busy examining the artwork along the fireplace walls. “Ah. You worry about what your government might do? Well, obviously Ben, this is not the Japanese government … or the United States. Even Your Section X has no claim here and I would like to see them try infiltrating Tokyo to get at you. No one moves around this city without my say-so.” She started to turn, tossing over her shoulder, “You have nothing to fear. I’ve dealt with tougher adversaries than the Americans.”

‘No doubt.’ He allowed an admiring grin, catching the door for her. He nodded a little tightly at the trio of bodyguards who’d been instructed to remain outside while she attended her ‘guests’. One of them in particular”Dante”gave him a somewhat sneering glare as he turned to follow Boss Yukio down the corridor.

As she stopped for a last parting remark, Yukio’s eyes met Ben’s and surprised him with the softness not often seen from the mafia’s only female Boss. “Just don’t let that Colonel of yours tear through my city like the rest of his family likes to.”

“Uh, yeah. Right.”

“And Ben?”

“Yes?”

“It was nice seeing you again.” With that she turned and her entourage of 6ft-plus guards swallowed up her 5’7” form as the group put distance between them.

He waited until they’d rounded the corner”no longer in sight”before breathing “You too.”

Back inside the suite, Neena was poking at the small fire she’d started in the living room, the orange-yellow glow playing across her pale face. She didn’t look up when Ben came back in and plopped back down on the nearest couch, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the cushions. “So?”

He opened one eye to her, his head barely moving off the couch. “’So’ what?”

“Are you going to tell me how you just happen to know a member of the Yakuza? A Boss no less??”

“Neena…” he wondered where to start, or whether to start at all. “…that’s a long story.”

“And apparently not one for tonight.”

“Thank you.”

She opted to let that go, turning toward the only closed bedroom door. “How long do you think the Col. is going to sleep?”

That got Ben’s attention and he raised his head, also turning to the door. He’d kept it to himself but apparently Neena had also noted the change in Colonel Howlett when they left Madripoor. He seemed more sullen, determined and honestly scarier than either wanted to admit to the other. Neena was still relatively new to the group, so she couldn’t possibly know what this meant, but Benjamin on the other hand…

“I don’t know. I guess all the traveling has been sorta rough on him.”

“Wow, that was the crappiest lie I’ve ever heard you tell.”

His head snapped back to her, his eyes widening and mouth agape. Ben didn’t necessarily know how to answer that, so after a couple tense seconds, “Probably.”

“Ben…” she let the poker lean against the hearth, coming to sit next to him on the couch. “You know I don’t have any issue with this mission. For reasons I don’t have to tell you again, I believe Victor’s gotta be brought in just as much as you and the Colonel do”at any cost. I’ve put my career on the line to follow you two into Hell”by my choice, yes”“ she interjected, seeing him ready with a retort, “”but all the same…permission to speak freely, sir?”

If that before wasn’t “freely” then he didn’t know what else could be. However, “Sure Neena. Go ahead.”

“With all due respect sir, I can’t be ‘blind’ on this mission where the Colonel’s concerned. You and I were about the only ones left after that bull shit from August and don’t think I’ve forgotten what he did to his own flesh and blood.”

Forget? Hell, Ben still had nightmares. “Of course not.”

“Then I need to know exactly what we’re dealing with here.”

He realized of course everything she’d said was the God’s honest truth. It was a conversation he dreaded for quite some time but knew was most necessary. All the same, he didn’t feel right divulging the Colonel’s personal life”most of which he was privy to only because the man long ago admitted to considering him something of a little brother. Despite his duty to keep Neena adequately informed, he knew she’d get the PG-rated version of the story. “Alright.”

She paused at his acceptance, puzzled at the lack of a fight. “Okay…you can start with exactly who that is sleeping in here with us, because that ain’t Colonel James Howlett.”




TBC…





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