Chapter 412: 8
Chapter Eight: Along For the Ride
The underground portion of Mutant High was not something that many would see, even though the lower levels were actually more extensive than the floors above. Those few students who had ventured into the underground world of the X-men would likely not associate the place with the warmest memories. While the Professor tried to approach prospective students well before they were placed in any dangerous situation, sometimes it was unavoidable. Those young people had, like Harry, been flown to Xavier's School and perhaps spent a little time in the medical wing before emerging aboveground to join their peers.
Still, those little glimpses never quite allowed the students to get the full measure of what exactly lay beneath their school. And, while it was a topic of much speculation, no one had gotten it all right yet.
Some had seen the extensive medical unit and genetic's lab, as well as the state-of-the-art jet and holding pad. A few of Cyclop's more promising engineering students may even have been given a glimpse of the other transport devices not considered safe enough to be above ground.
But none of the current students had seen the deeper underground levels that held Xavier's Cerebro and a few other devices that the X-men had been fiddling with. There were also several chambers that, while not currently in use, could house the entire Mutant High population if need be.
While Xavier had a love of mankind he wasn't blind to the possibilities, the living quarters had been built to withstand any bombing from above, including the nuclear, and had been stocked with food to feed the school for over eight weeks. It was the Doomsday plan that they all hoped never to have to use.
But, there were other areas more often in use. Areas for the X-men: space for training (including the impressive Danger Room that allowed holographic simulations), a room for mission planning, holding cells for the temporary imprisonment of dangerous mutants, storage space for uniforms and other tools, as well as a place that allowed for some relaxation away from the teenagers above.
The few X-men were in the planing room now, and they were a small few. Charles Xavier was their leader, Scott his second in command, Storm was their most likely agent in the field, and Jean was, strictly speaking, only a doctor. More often than not, she stayed at the school only leaving if the mission needed her additional help. But they all tried to fill whatever roles were required, everyone had some basic knowledge of how to do most things. They all just excelled at different key skills.
They had to, when working with so small a group. Only three adult mutants, moved about by one very intelligent older man, it was a relatively small number considering their aim.
They had all been students of the Professor, some of the first and brightest, and more importantly, all had returned seeking a way to help their fellow mutants. Over the years a few students, past and present, had lent a hand in an operation or two but this was the core of the unit. A small strike force that seemed to be the only thing keeping the war between humanity and mutants from spilling over and blistering the world in its wake, constantly trying to stop a war which seemed determined to come.
Wolverine was a new and uncertain addition. Unlike the others he had no real stake in the fight to keep peace. His own philosophy seeming to teeter between Xavier's altruism and Magneto's offensive philosophy. He'd been an asset at Liberty Island, but if Magneto's plan hadn't involved Rogue, one of the few people that Wolverine had allowed into his life, then it was anyone's guess if he would have even bothered.
And Wolverine had returned again, but was it to help or was he merely trying to assure the Professor's assistance in locating the past he couldn't remember? His allegiance was anyone's guess and that made some members (Scott) a little hesitant to include him in the current mission.
"Not to mention he still hasn't trained with us, I doubt he's even capable of working with a team," Cyclops stated. He spoke to the Professor ignoring the topic of his diatribe who was growling in a manner that did his namesake proud.
"Say that to my face, bub," Wolverine said, rising to his feet and lifting his fists as if he'd like nothing better than to strike out at the man before him.
"We'll need all the help we can get," Jean reminded Scott softly, tugging on her boyfriend's arm and getting him to sit down quietly. Wolverine took a breath and decided to stifle his own anger, for now.
Xavier nodded his thanks to the calming redhead. They did indeed need Wolverine's help if the coming mission was to be successful.
And it had to be.
"As I was saying," Xavier continued, now that Scott's protests had been silenced. "I recently received an message from an English telepath I've been in contact with. She was able to discover the location of a covert military facility, perhaps the northern one young Harry had mentioned to us. And I'm afraid that this can't wait."
Charles paused, rubbing absently at his knees. He couldn't actually feel the touch but the gesture seemed to ease the phantom pain that cropped up when he was under stress.
"The information isn't as detailed as I'd like," the professor allowed, "But I was able to get positive proof that Thomas Winter is being held there, along with a few others vital to the Haven's internal structure."
Some mutters passed around the room. Wolverine however looked unimpressed.
For his benefit, Xavier reminded him, "Thomas Winter has a powerful gift, he is able to control people's actions by his voice. Even recordings seem to have the same effect. But perhaps his greater gift is the generous and unobtrusive way in which he uses his ability.
"Going by the name Telltale, he was able to unite many of the British and Western European Mutants together. The community he developed over the last thirty years, the Haven, has given a home to many mutants who might not otherwise have one. He was in the process of planning for a school when the Mutant Acts were passed." Xavier looked a little defeated as he considered all the years of work those pieces of legislation had destroyed.
"He also has formed connections with more mutants throughout Europe and England than any other individual in the world— "
"Excluding you, right," Wolverine interrupted.
Xavier sighed, "No, he was able to reach and work with people whom I only have the barest knowledge of. If there is going to be any hope of saving the UK we will need Thomas Winter's support. Also...if something were to happen to him." Xavier stilled, his face having the barest hint of a frown. He seemed to allow the possibilities to flash before his eyes, which deepened the frown, before he spoke.
"There are no real words to explain it, the tumult after his loss would be catastrophic. There are some very powerful mutants who have remained in check only because of him. He is also well admired in that community, if he were to be seen as a martyr. . . perhaps hundreds of mutants would try and strike back at the current government."
Wolverine spared a glance for Storm, from what they had seen during their few misadventures in Britain, maybe a war was exactly what that country needed.
Storm ignored his glance.
"This mutant, the telepath, is she trustworthy?" Scott asked, ignoring the interplay between Storm and Wolverine.
Xavier nodded. "She was one of Winter's contacts, I met her several years ago in fact, although she is not a part of the Haven. I leaned that she managed to avoid being discovered during the Mutant Act's passing. However I think it best if we leave her out of any plans. Her role..." Xavier looked thoughtful, "I think her aide in garnering information may be the best use for her at the moment. Any more might shine an unhealthy light on her current position."
Scott nodded.
"So, we storm in, knock out the guards, circumvent the electrical gadgets in place and free the mutants before bringing them here for safe keeping. Sounds like my kind of mission," Wolverine surmised.
"You mean reckless," Scott muttered under his breath, although he was at a loss for what more they could do given their short timetable.
The Professor ignored the interplay, answering Wolverine's plan with a wry smile. "Something like that. Although," he lit up a screen that showed several lists "I think it may be a little more tricky than it seems."
The few scraps of paper looked to be from a building's planning phase. It listed guard numbers, specific types of locking devices being implemented and some decidedly dangerous countermeasures. As they skimmed through these pieces of information the group grew more solemn. The number of guards were far greater than those that had been at the smaller facility containing Harry. And, if those soldiers had been any representation, it would be wise to assume that all would be well armed.
"We don't have any more time?" Scott asked, his eyes were focused on the screen. "What about actual building plans?" he inquired.
"I'm afraid this is all that was available, and even this was locked down in such a way that if it hadn't been for our contact's skill we might never have had this. We do however have a general area for searching."
"You don't know where it is?" Storm asked hesitantly, sharing a glance with her teammates. They seemed as hesitant as she did, Scott particularly, but his emotions were always a little difficult to guess from behind the opaque glasses.
"We have a localized area, and it's probably an underground structure. I'm afraid that is all we have," Xavier looked a little tired as he gazed up at the picked over information.
"It can't wait? Get some more information? How many mutants are being held there?" Scott asked again, his practical side made him feel a little daunted but he was trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.
Failing if the challenging look on Wolverine's face was any indication.
"Based on the most recent information, no. It can't wait," Xavier rubbed his knee again. "There is more than enough evidence to assume that some very disturbing experimentation is occurring. We must do all we can to free these mutants before things go any further. As for the current numbers. That is very unclear. Our contact was able to reach some former Haven members, about 25% escaped the initial attack and have been accounted for. Of the 75%, it is not known how many are still alive, imprisoned, or have been killed. Some of the people unaccounted for are— fairly young. Some not even entirely developing their mutations."
The group nodded, there was no hesitation now.
"Lets go over it again," Wolverine repeated. There was a certain lack of humor in his voice and his face seemed emotionless almost mask-like. The idea of experimentation on mutants had gone a long way in steeling his resolve.
As for the others, protecting young mutants was a duty they took very seriously.
Scott nodded, "Alright, first—
The X-men climbed upward, moving towards the west end of complex where the X-Jet was stored, they were as prepared as they could be. And they looked it, their differences growing less apparent as their uniforms gave them a look of purpose and team unity. Despite Harry's belief that the gang roamed around in leather body suits, the X-men's gear was actually made of a micro fibre that wove kevlar and smooth grain Vegatan, with the addition of some strategically placed plates it greatly reduced the damage caused by gunfire. It would be inaccurate to call them bulletproof, but they were significantly safer than mere leather and still allowed free range of movement. The material was also a breathable fibre, something that was essential during combat. (Ironically enough it was also animal friendly, although that was more a coincidence and not a goal of the construction.)
Still, as Wolverine had pointed out, their previous experience with the British military lead him to believe that they were using armor piercing bullets. If he wasn't so good at healing, he'd have the scars to prove it. Scott was still rather put out that yet another of his uniforms had been destroyed by Wolverine's less than careful treatment. Sure he could heal, but what about the suit?
"It's tight," Wolverine complained as he settled into the Jet. He twisted around trying to feel comfortable in the binding fabric.
"Then have one of your own made," Scott suggested, his tone trying to hide his animosity as Wolverine stretched, letting his claws slice through the material easily.
"Yeah, right," the surly man said with some slight mocking. "Like I'd actually want to admit to owning something like this."
Scott seemed content to keep his mouth shut for the moment. If Jean could guess she'd say he was likely chanting a mantra about how Wolverine was needed for this mission.
"Storm, get us in the air," Scott said comfortably.
The white haired mutant nodded, taking a seat at the controls. Despite her original dislike of flying, she was now the most capable pilot. Her mutations came in handy, not only for creating conditions to hide their landings but she was able to manipulate the air conditions as they flew helping them avoid difficult weather and most turbulence.
"Wait," Wolverine suddenly said, his head jerking up, he looked around his posture instantly alert.
"What?" Scott asked seriously. Wolverine's healing ability wasn't his only gift, increased senses had been useful in the past.
Wolverine sniffed the air again, slowly settling down with a small smirk. "Nothing, thought I smelled something foul. But it's just the suit, what were you doing when you wore this last?"
Scott rolled his eyes, "Let's get moving," he directed. He expressed his annoyance in a glance at Jean and she smiled and shrugged. It wasn't exactly comforting.
Jean tried to convey her boyfriend's emotion by sending Wolverine an annoyed looked, which prompted a leering wink in her direction. She turned away from him and faced forwards, watching as the hatch opened and the jet rose above the basketball court and into the sky. It was already dark out and to the people inside the jet it looked as if they were cutting through grey clouds and up toward the stars.
As they climbed higher into the air, Wolverine leaned over to glance behind at a seemingly empty chair to the left of his own.
"Hope you're ready for a ride," he whispered into the empty air.
Northumberland was a county in the north-east of England. Prior to the expedition none of the X-men had heard of it, and they had even less knowledge of the small district known as Berwick-upon-Tweed which was their final destination. Berwick-upon-Tweed was the northernmost district in Northumberland and rested right on the border between England and Scotland. In ancient years long passed, which the X-men had no knowledge of, the land they were flying over had been home to many wars between England and Scotland. The tired castles that were scattered across Northumberland were the only signs of that past now, and its empty land was more likely to see sheep instead of battle.
The X-jet flew west of the town, moving toward the more isolated area that skirted the Cheviot Hills and edged the Northumberland National Park. It was night below and the comfortable evening's weather had been radically changed, a freak storm forcing most of the inhabitants inside.
They were flying much lower than was normal, and Storm's cloud cover was essential. The reason for this low flying had a great deal to do with the fact that while they were in the immediate vicinity of the 'Northern Facility', as they had come to think of it, they did not have an exact fix on the location.
Scott was using a device that acted like a sort of sonar to try and locate what must be a vast structure that was underground. Jean seemed similarly absorbed concentrating on locating mental signals. The general area was sparsely populated and a high concentration of minds would likely point them in the right direction. Wolverine was trying to be helpful by looking for lights shining below, Scott seemed to get a great deal of laughs out of this.
"There," both Jean and Scott said at the same time, their eyes meeting and sharing a smile.
"Take us down, Storm," Scott directed. He was looking at the small device that was showing a great deal of metal, all of it under the seemingly empty moorland beneath them.
"There's a light," Wolverine pointed out, a little late but the information was still helpful as Storm used the little pinprick in the darkness to land the jet behind an outcropping of rock, essentially blocking them from sight.
"Where is this?" Jean inquired.
Storm had more accurate mapping on her console."We're just inside the boundary line of the Northumberland National Park," she answered. "I suppose it would be a good place for the government to hide a massive facility."
"Perhaps better to ask when is this?" Scott asked. Looking outside they could tell that it was still dark but by flying East, time might not be on their side.
"A little after three in the morning, sunrise is in approximately four hours."
"Here's to hoping we'll be off this island by then," Wolverine said, lifting his hand as if making a toast.
A hatch on the side of the plane dropped open, quietly allowing them to exit the plane. Three quickly climbed down, and then waited anxiously on the ground looking up at the empty ladder.
"What's keeping you?" Scott hissed after everyone except Wolverine had exited.
The Canadian mutant gave their leader a patronizing glance, looking out at the land for a moment and taking a few sniffs of the clean air. After a moment he seemed to have discovered all he needed and joined the others on the ground, leaping the last four feet and landing with his knees bent.
Scott shut the door with a snap and the four mutants crossed the wild grass feeling very paranoid. But seeing as paranoia was a healthy response given the situation, it was perhaps the best course of action.
"That's the light I saw," Wolverine said, indicating a small floodlight that let out a toxic looking florescent glow and sent long arching shadows that faded into darkness. The light was affixed to a small building that read Northumberland Park Authority and looked to be the sort that might contain equipment used by rangers in managing the surrounding area. It was small and not very interesting looking, a boring government outpost that probably looked identical to the dozens of others that were scattered around the park.
Except perhaps for one defining factor.
"Hell of a fence," Wolverine commented looking up.
A hundred meters out from the small building ran a fence that was at least 3 meters high. Still, other than its height the fence didn't look terribly imposing . It was a simple chain link, without the usual ring of barbed wire that could make such divides seem impenetrable.
"Sure we have the right place?" Storm asked quietly.
The lack of force thus far was putting them all on edge. Somehow they had expected armed guards patrolling the perimeter, watch towers and even spot lights sweeping the surrounding area like something out of World War II POW camps.
"It has to be," Scott said. He looked around carefully.
"Well, up we go," Wolverine said with a shrug, examining the fence.
Scott paused, opening his mouth before shutting it again. He seemed to be seriously considering something before grabbing Wolverine's outstretched hand.
"Wait," he whispered a little hesitantly. "I think it's electrified." He pointed to a copper wire that seemed to be running along the base of the fence.
Wolverine looked a surprised, pausing to lean in and nod, "It's humming," he said, his voice a little muffled.
Scott smiled smugly, "Admitting you were wrong is almost as good as seeing you get fried," he muttered with a sigh.
Wolverine seemed ready to ignore that remark. Jean and Storm shared a significant gesture, wondering if the two would ever be able to work together without the little jabs and insults.
The four silently skirted the outside of the fence, Storm drew on the low land level to bring in a mist that helped to keep them more hidden. They had been walking for only a few moments when Wolverine stopped. He'd been silently chosen to lead their little group through the darkness that was at times overpowering. It seemed the only light for miles was affixed to the small shed. Storm's mist was also obscuring more than the guards who might be watching.
Wolverine's solid back hunched for a moment and his ears strained in the night to try and figure out what he was hearing. He'd been following the slight hum of the electric fence hoping to come upon a gate. But on the other side of the fence something was moving. He shrugged and decided to continue his pace, not answering the questioning gazes that the other mutants were throwing his way.
He hoped he was right in his guess. The noise was so soft that the others couldn't seem to hear it. But Wolverine knew that somewhere in the darkness a body had dropped to the ground and hadn't gotten back up. Living or dead? He didn't know.
He counted in his head, two, three, four, five. Each silent plop was probably good news but he felt tense not knowing and was relieved when he stopped before a gate that was wide enough to allow a military vehicle to pass through.
Scott took the lead now, a small black box of mysterious origin had been latched onto his forearm and he now removed it, pulling two different colored wires from the device and clapping them underneath the impressive electronic lock.
Scott fiddled with a few buttons on the device and a small screen lit up with a wash of numbers sliding past at an impressive speed. The soft blue light of the screen lit their faces for a moment. Jean and Storm weren't surprised at the tool that Cyclops was using. Wolverine gathered that the black box had been used on other missions, and he wasn't about to look impressed. Scott was focused on the device and when the numbers stopped whirling by and remained stationary on a 12 digit code he smiled appreciatively.
The suits they wore made it difficult to key in the closely spaced numbers but with a little patience Cyclops managed it and was satisfied with the smooth sound of the door sliding open.
"Someone will have heard that," Wolverine pointed out.
Scott's face seemed expressionless, but Jean thought that he might have rolled his eyes had they been able to see them.
The land was still dark as they crossed through the gate, but the taller grass surrounding it had been clipped to a neatness that seemed strange after the wild grass they had been tramping through. The small parks building looked rather desolate standing on a small rise in the middle of the fenced in area.
The X-men moved softly, forming a sort of circle, their backs facing inward, allowing them to see the angles around them. It was tense walking and all felt that at a moments notice a guard might emerge from behind the building or, for all they knew, pop out of the ground and begin firing. But, their footsteps were the only noise approaching and they reached the door of the building feeling even more nervous at the lack of attack.
Cyclops eyed the even more complex lock that secured what looked to be a tool shed. It would require another twelve digit code and a transmitted code, not unlike that of a car's keyless entry. Cracking a 40 bit code was something that wasn't going to be easy on the fly.
The first number was easy, it was the same as the gate. Cyclops eyed the small receiver closely. The standard method of breaking this type of locking mechanism required the use of a radio scanner to essentially 'capture' the code. But even if he had that device handy (which actually he did, it was on the plane) it required that the device be close to the transmitter, while in use, to read and copy the code.
Which meant they were good and properly screwed unless some curious general decided to pop in for tea and crumpets. At three a.m.
The night was sadly without such an individual and Scott continued to stare at the lock trying to get another way around it short of utilizing his mutation and blowing a hole through it, which was looking the most promising at the moment.
"What's taking so long," Wolverine asked looking over Scotts shoulder.
"A little more high tech than I'm capable of dealing with at the moment," he answered.
"Then we'll try a low tech solution," Wolverine offered, his hand clenched as he released one adamantium claw and sliced through the metal door as if it were butter. When he neared the lock's bolt Cyclops couldn't help but cringe. While Wolverine's solution was no less valid than his own, he couldn't help but fear what sort of alarms tampering with the complex lock might cause.
He glanced at Storm and Jean, silently telling them to be ready to make a dash depending on whatever happened.
Wolverine's claw reached the lock and he seemed to struggle for a moment before the small red light on keypad blinked to green and door seemed to be kicked open a inch or so.
Wolverine grinned, "Here is to breaking and entering," he cheered softly.
"That shouldn't have worked," Cyclops couldn't help but say. He shrugged the anxiety away, although he couldn't entirely loose it. This was beginning to seem almost too easy.
"Jean, keep an eye out," he encouraged.
Jean titled her head to look at him curiously, she didn't need to speak for him to know what she was thinking. Telepathy wasn't nearly as much her skill as telekinesis. Still, she closed her eyes, relying on her hand against his shoulder to guide her forward into the dark space that awaited them.
Storm looked at Scott closely before following.
"That shouldn't have worked," Scott repeated, he stepped into the darkness.
"Anyone spot at light switch?" Wolverine asked from ahead of them.
Scott reached into a side pouch and pulled out a dim tube that he cracked inciting a chemical reaction that allowed a low blue light to give them some idea of their location, "We don't want to walk into a trap," Scott advised, holding the light out carefully to gaze at the seemingly empty hall that stretched on and slopped downward without a single door or junction.
Whizz.
Wolverine dived backwards as a small silver dart shot in his direction, missing him by centimeters. Another dart followed the first, striking him in the shoulder. Wolverine wrenched it out with a growl.
"Little late for that," Wolverine shouted to Cyclops, noticing as five more darts seemed to shoot from somewhere overheard.
Cyclops seemed to notice the direction as well and fired a well controlled blast in the general area. He raised his hand to allow the light to drift upward. There were no people, rather a thick strip of metal with holes that shot the darts at them. Jean was doing her best to capture the metal darts before they hit herself, Storm or Scott but she was slightly overwhelmed when Cyclop's attack resulted in a wave of sliver streaking towards them. Storm flinched back knowing that one would eventually hit, and she couldn't let loose any lightning in here as the building, she had noted in the dim light, was a massive block of metal, she'd run the risk of frying her teammates as well at their attackers. And wind was so difficult to control in this small space.
She tried to move back unsuccessfully when one of the darts seemed to escape Jean's eye and flew menacingly close to her head. It was going to be over and she'd become a liability.
But the dart stopped hovering a foot from her face before flying back the way it had came. She stood dazed before mentally thanking Jean's quick reflexes.
"We have to get out of here," she shouted.
Scott seemed to agree, he took a close look at the wall across from them before raising a hand to his ruby quartz visor and adjusting the power level. Turning his head, a massive optic blast, the red light blindingly bright after the dim, crashed into a wall and left the air thick with plaster dust, a few shards of metal flung like shrapnel around the room. Jean just barely managed to stop some it that almost pelted their group, cutting them to ribbons.
Jean, Storm and Scott barreled through the opening, another flash of bright red light and a loud crash left little doubt that they had worked their way even deeper into the facility.
But Wolverine, less worried about the darts than his fellow mutants had managed to move further forward than the others. He took one glance at the opening a few meters back, shook his head wearily as he pulled out another dart before charging ahead instead, clearing a doorway and running down the shallow slope and deeper into the underground facility.
He had cleared whatever had been shooting the tranquilizer, and he was none to pleased about that. The nasty things weren't enough to knock him out, very few things in this world were, but they were already giving him a headache and the few shattered explosions from Cyclop's blasts weren't helping matters.
There was also someone following him.
Wolverine's hand snaked out suddenly, reaching behind him and grasping something firmly, but not cruelly. He gave the empty air a shake, raising an eyebrow as his companion emerged from nothing.
"Ouch, was that necessary," Harry grouched as he shrugged out of Wolverine's grasp.
"Was getting tired of the invisible man routine," He said before turning and continuing his steady loping pace downward.
"I don't know I hoping the others would start thinking you were talking to yourself," Harry offered friendly.
Wolverine ignored that comment.
"Well this is different," Harry said, looking around. He'd expected for the Northern Facility to look identical to the government building that had housed him. It was in some regards, they had used the same decorator, but it seemed as if they had been running down a small hill for sometime now, the wide hallway allowing them to jog side by side quite comfortably.
"Little more complicated," Wolverine admitted. "But I'm guessing we want to go down anyway."
The building must be on full alert because the only light in the hallway were the same red twirling lights that Harry remembered from when he had escaped. They cast the hallway into a creepy gloom as Harry kept running, trying to keep up as best he could.
"Any idea where we're going?" Harry asked between breaths. He found himself pleasantly surprised that Jean's nagging actually had managed to help in rebuilding his physical strength, he wasn't feeling nearly as likely to collapse as he had the last time he and Wolverine had been running from the British military.
Wolverine shook his head, "Hope we find something promising soon, there are some people that are following us."
Harry tried to look behind himself while still running. The incline of their current path made it difficult to see further than ten feet and he couldn't see anyone yet.
Suddenly the empty hall was crossed by another hall, one without their incline, running straight across. There were doors here. Including one door that was made of metal and had the same daunting keypad that had slowed Cyclops down earlier.
"Let's try this way," Wolverine offered, "If they're trying to keep people out, well I'm betting that is where we want to go."
Harry shrugged, he didn't have any better ideas.
Wolverine once again extended one claw and moved toward the lock.
Harry stopped him with a hand on his arm, "You don't really think you opened that last one by trying to slice it open?"
Wolverine paused giving Harry a considering glance, he moved out of the way while Harry waved his palm and mentally said the same unlocking charm he had learned his first year. It seemed that no matter how complicated the muggle lock, the spell still worked so long as their wasn't a locking charm involved. Harry would have to remember this if ever decided to take up a career in bank robbery.
Wolverine watched as the lock's small light changed green and the door opened a small degree. "We could not mention this to Scotty-boy, right?" he asked hopefully. "You know, leave him stewing for a bit about how I opened a door he couldn't."
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," Harry chanted, holding the door open for the mutant who followed him inside and allowed the door to shut with a snap. It cut off any sound from outside and Harry hoped that whomever was following might not notice their current hiding place. Away from the flashing red lights it seemed almost peaceful and the two sat in the darkness for a moment.
"It smells bad in here," Wolverine said, he breathed out heavily though his nose and began breathing through his mouth.
Harry could only smell a trace of antiseptic, reminding him vaguely of a muggle doctor's office. He fiddled with the wall for a moment before his hand brushed against the light switch, illuminating the room with a harsh florescent light that left them blinking and squinting. As the visual haze began to clear Harry began to have a bad feeling about why it might smell bad in here.
At first glance the room didn't seem much different than the medical room that Jean commanded. A stainless steel table, sized to accommodate even a fairly large man, was in the center of the room, a few large lights (currently off) hung above it. There were some of the same muggle medical devices that Harry had puzzled over earlier, seeming just as curious and unexplainable now. It was a perfectly ordinary room except for a few features. One might be the thick arm and foot restraints on the metal table and the other would be the large metal drawers that occupied an entire wall. Not filing cabinets, they were storing something bigger in there. Harry tried not to think about what that bigger thing might be.
It was cold too, and Harry felt himself shiver, rubbing at his arms to try and erase the chill that seemed to come over him.
Beside him Wolverine's teeth were on edge, his lips pulled back in the slightest hint of a snarl. He smelled the air with darkening expression and Harry wondered what the mutant could sense that he couldn't. Oddly enough he was glad not knowing.
"Why didn't you rat me out," Harry asked, breaking the silence with a an echoing voice that sounded a little strange to Harry's ear.
Wolverine glanced in Harry's direction, "You have more right to be here than we do," he answered.
Harry knew that Wolverine meant that Harry was British, and so this was his home. There wasn't much point in arguing the validity of that remark.
Harry was starting to find other traces, a massive drill, a drawer marked scalpels, a trash bin whose yellow bags read 'medical waste' and maybe it was all because of Wolverine but Harry was starting to feel like he smelled something foul as well.
"You think the others will be alright?"
Wolverine shrugged, "Guess so, they've done this sort of thing before. Best to let them work together," the statement seemed to end with the silent implication that Wolverine and Harry, the two outsiders, would only get in the way.
Harry couldn't help but agree.
Wolverine crossed toward the wall of cold steel drawers, his steps echoing in the empty medical room. Harry knew he should be chasing after him. He should be trying to stop him from opening those drawers and reveling what Harry knew to be hidden within. But his sturdy hand latched onto one drawer and pulled, Harry felt an odd sort of relief. As if this had been inevitable and his chattering had only been a distraction from what was coming and it was good to be rid of the delusion..
It was woman.
Or rather had been a woman. Only her face was visible, the rest of her form was covered by a white sheet. Her dark hair pooled around her face, it was thick and long. She was. . . ugly.
Really, she was. It had nothing to do with the whole dead thing. Harry was pretty sure she'd been just as ugly before she died. He stared at her horrible face and found himself wondering when dead bodies had stopped unnerving him. Her being dead had not even phased him.
Really though, she was hideous. Why was he so focused on this? He'd never thought he was that guy. Maybe it was because she was Voldemort ugly. In fact she and Voldemort might have made a good pair, there was certainly something serpent-like about her. Her skin looked scaled and around her mouth the texture was even more noticeable. And while death had paled her features he was fairly certain that it hadn't added the green tinge to her skin that made her look even more reptilian. He didn't mean to be judgmental, but when it came to the snakefaced Voldemort had done quite the number on his psyche.
Snap out of it, Harry lectured himself. She didn't drop dead of her own accord.
That thought sobered him and he glanced at Wolverine. His friend seemed to be well aware that the woman before them hadn't met a peaceful demise. His hands were squeezed so tightly that his knuckles looked like bleached bone. Harry wondered if his stronger senses made the experience worse in some regards, Harry himself had been breathing through his mouth even though the cold negated any chance of an odor.
"It was you taking care of the guards outside," Wolverine suddenly stated with a voice that seemed to hide all emotion.
Harry struggled to think back. "Oh yeah, I just knocked them out before you guys opened the gate." Harry sounded almost apologetic as he continued to gaze at the strange woman's face, as if killing them might have been the real justice.
Wolverine nodded slowly. "Might not have helped us much, they seemed pretty prepared. Must have figured out we'd breached their outer defenses."
"Look at you, sounding like a solider," Harry pointed out with a poor attempt at humor.
"Maybe I was one once," Wolverine's words were oddly nostalgic "Before some experiment wiped my memories and made me what I am." His hand reached out and rested close to the woman's face, not touching but sliding across the metal tray she rested on in a manner that looked like a caress.
Harry remained silent, absorbing this information about the older man with downcast eyes. As he gazed at the woman again he saw no more beauty that he had at first, but he wondered what Wolverine saw and he wished he could offer some consolation for all the brokenness.
Wolverine's arm moved quickly and with a swift snap the drawer was closed and she was gone from Harry's sight, the room felt a little less deary. Although as Harry gazed at the wall of similar metal drawers he felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. Voldemort was monestrous, but there was something about this neat precision that matched the horror the magical madman had made stroke for stroke.
"They must be bring them here from somewhere," Harry found himself saying, "I didn't see any sort of holding cells from the way we came."
Wolverine nodded in agreement, he jerked his head toward another door that was positioned opposite of the one they had entered. After some careful listening they opened it and found themselves in a short hallway that lead to a lone elevator. It was the massive sort, wide doors and a good amount of space inside. The proportions were similar to that of a muggle hospital, although once again the presence of a metal lock made it inaccessible without a key code— or an unlocking charm.
Wolverine waited patiently while Harry worked his magic and the two boarded feeling rather insecure.
"So. . . are we just going to wander around until we run into more soldiers?" Harry asked.
Wolverine shrugged, "Either that or we might run into the mutants that we are supposed to rescue or maybe Xavier's little super team. I rather run into either first, but between the two of us I think we'll mange either way."
Harry found himself smiling, which was wrong given their current situation. Still, both he and Wolverine had a very fluid sort of response to dangerous situations. And allowing them to wander around this facility free was, as unflattering as it sounded, like introducing a virus into a bloodstream. They could wreck terrible havoc and were essentially impossible to stop. Bullets and darts, likely even any sort of sedative wouldn't work for long in Wolverine and Harry was agile and powerful enough to escape almost all kinds of muggle attack.
A small beep announced they'd arrived at another floor.
"Two very nervous guards," wolverine announced quietly.
"Where are they?" Harry asked.
Wolverine smiled, "Coming this way."
Wolverine must have needed the release, and Harry wasn't about to begrudge him it. With steady, almost predatory movements, he ducked out of the elevator and a few moments after leaving Harry's sight a strangled yell was quickly silenced by the slick sound of Wolverine's claws. When Harry emerged the two men that Wolverine had heard were crumpled on the floor, Harry didn't bother looking too closely to see how exactly his partner had incapacitated them.
The current hallway was a little more interesting, lined with doors that looked very familiar. Harry distinctly recalled spending a few days locked on the other side of a door like these. There was another locking mechanism, located at a point near the elevator, and Harry waved his hand at the device, marveling as all the doors clicked open.
Wolverine shared a glance with Harry, "This should be interesting," he commented.
There was silence for a moment until a curious head peered from behind the doors. "Who are you?" the head asked.
"Nobody," Wolverine said quickly.
Harry chuckled darkly, watching is some amusement at Wolverine's uncomfortable stance. The mutant shot him an annoyed gesture before straightening up.
"That is to say, Charles Xavier sent us to bust you out."
The head emerged more prominently now, it was attached to the thin gangly body of a boy who didn't look to be out of his teens. He was very lean and tall, his blond hair hanging straight as a pin. A few more heads emerged as well, and Harry had a feeling that quite a few individuals were waiting to see how well things played out.
"Xavier, I've heard of him," there was strong Scottish accent attached to his words Harry noted. The man glanced at the other cells, speaking louder, "The American telepath right?"
Wolverine nodded. "Yeah, this all of you?"
Another figure emerged from a little further down the hall. "No," the other boy answered. "There are some of the older ones, the more offensive types on another level." This mutant was even younger than the first. He wasn't as lean as the first, nor as tall either, thick curly brown hair hung like a curtain entirely shielding his eyes from view.
"If they are still alive," the first blond mutant offered negatively.
A small sob escaped another room at this pronouncement.
"Don't talk like that," the dark haired man growled. He crossed to one of the cells and opened it with a sharp tug, "He's just being a prat Mia. They're fine, I'm sure."
A small girl with a blur of matted brown hair bolted from the cell and was soon hugging the younger boy around the middle, her sobs chocked by the fabric of his shirt.
There was something familiar about the dark haired boy but Harry found himself struggling to decipher what it was.
More mutants were emerging now. None seemed to be over twenty, the tall blond might be the oldest. Their faces were a little pale, they looked a little thin, some sported bandages and most had small bruises at the crook of their arms, likely from IVs or perhaps inoculations of some kind. Harry didn't like to think about how young some of the children looked.
"I heard some of them tried to escape," one little brown haired boy who had ears that looked like a bat's said softly.
"When'd you hear that Mouse," the older mutant with dark hair asked. He detached himself from the little girl, Mia, handing her over to a girl whose skin and hair were blacker than black. Mia wrapped her arms tighter around the dark girl as the oddly familiar mutant moved toward the small boy who had spoken.
"Few days ago," the young boy answered. "I'm pretty sure they're a few floors down.
For no explainable reason the dark haired mutant looked down and then cursed under his breath, "Bloody antimantium beams, place looks like a twisted tangle."
"There is no escaping this," the blond stated dourly, "It's like hell, even now we aren't getting out alive. Not with just two of you."
The Scottish mutant's comment did draw the attention back to Harry and Wolverine, although the others seemed to be trying to squash the other half of his statement.
"No, we can do it," the other boy rallied, "If they broke in then they can get us out. If we all work together, using our abilities, there has to be a way to manage it."
Harry stopped short, he suddenly had a very good idea why the boy seemed so familiar. The hair was longer, the frame a bit more muscular and the tinge of venom in his voice almost a foreign thing— but for all those changes there was no mistaking the former Hufflepuff.
"Justin?' Harry asked aloud.
The dark haired boy turned hesitantly, looking closely at Harry for the first time. "Er...do I know you?" he asked curiously.
"Ye— no, I guess not." Harry forced himself to look away. In another life he'd tried to save this boy from a snake and wound up being labeled a parselmouth for his trouble. But that was another world, and in meeting this Justin's eyes Harry knew that it had been another Justin Flinch-Fletchly.
Harry didn't really remember what color eyes Justin had back home, but he was certain that his eyes hadn't been the metallic silver that now shaded not only his iris but his pupil and even the whites of his eyes had taken on the mysterious sheen.
Justin was a mutant.
"Look," the blond said firmly, "Even if we could get to the floors below it's not like we can do anything. They put us in this area for a reason." He turned to Justin, "What you going to do? See them to death?"
"Trent," Justin growled, "You shut up or I'll shut you up. We aren't leaving the others behind."
Such a Hufflepuff Harry thought to himself, proud to see his old classmate in there somewhere.
"And, sure we maybe can't fry them to a crisp like Torch would, but we aren't useless and neither are they," Justin pointed to Harry and Wolverine, then nudged his head toward the two soldiers who hadn't moved from their crumpled positions on the floor.
The blond, Trent, seemed to think this over a bit.
"But X..." a soft voice intruded. It was the small girl from earlier and Justin turned to look at her when she spoke, he seemed to loose some of his resolve as he took in her pale face. "I can't," she didn't speak this, it came out like sob and the black skinned girl behind her patted her shoulder soothingly.
"They hurt me so bad last time, please, let's just go X-ray," she clutched her arms shaking weakly and hanging her head in shame.
Justin looked torn, moving to the girl and running a hand up and down arm, "It's okay Mia, you don't have to...But I can't leave the others."
"I'm terrible," Mia cried again.
The dark girl behind her shook her head firmly. "No, this isn't your fault." Her voice was oddly soothing given the situation but when she looked up Harry saw a sort of fury in her eyes.
Wolverine coughed. "Yeah well..." He looked toward Harry.
Harry shrugged.
There were probably ten to fifteen mutants being held in this particular corner of the facility. Most of them seemed to be teenagers, the youngest probably twelve the oldest maybe twenty. And judging by the conversations that were springing up around them, it wasn't difficult to sense the despair and lack of focus that most of them were struggling with. Having endured his own long-term imprisonment Harry had an odd insight into what these mutants were going through. And no matter what their ability, probably none of them were really in any condition to fight against their captors. It was a psychological thing, something that Harry really didn't want to know about but did. Some people emerged from this sort of thing stronger and others didn't.
"I can get you out," Harry announced, his assuring tone disrupting the quiet babble of voices. And he had a feeling that he really could. Because he'd considered something that he hadn't the last time he'd been trapped in such a facility. Apparition may be broken...but there were other ways.
"Sure, we'll just tell them we're going for a stroll," the blond, Trent, said sarcastically.
Harry grinned, "We all have gifts right?"
The teens suddenly looked a lot more interested.
Harry looked around the hallway, it was a seamless place with little in the way of arbitrary decoration. The people themselves were similarly attired, all wearing the grey shirt and drawstring trousers that he had been given. But one girl caught his eye. She had long brown hair that was being pushed back by a plain plastic headband.
"Mind if I borrow this?" Harry asked with a wink.
She seemed a little perturbed at the casual attitude but handed him the hair accessary without emotion.
"Should I send them to the jet or to the school," Harry asked Wolverine.
"You can send them to the school?"
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Right, magic."
Harry held his hand over the item and crowd muttered when it glowed a light blue color. "Just take a deep breath and hold on, a finger will do," Harry instructed.
"I'm staying," Justin pronounced with a certainty that seemed to leave no room for argument.
And Harry and Wolverine weren't really the arguing type. Both shrugged in a noncommital way of acceptance.
"I'll stay as well," the black girl said, she aligned herself next to Justin and the pair nodded to each other with confidence.
Once again Harry and Wolverine shrugged.
"Er..." the pessimistic blond looked hesitant, "I guess I'll stay too," he said glumly, as if somehow they were putting a gun to his head.
"Don't do us any favors," Justin said, the heavy sarcasm causing the tall lanky boy to frown in his direction. But he didn't say anything else and his surly face remained a distance away from the innocent looking headband.
"X," the small girl said softly, she moved to Justin and took his hand. "You'll be okay X. You're really smart, you'll find Mum and Dad and bring them home." How much of this was for Justin and how much was for her own benefit was questionable.
Soon the collection of teenagers had grouped around the hair band, each finding a space to place a finger. Most looked a little doubting. As was Harry himself truth be told.
"Here we go," the young wizard said hopefully. "Don't let go."
With a bright flash and loud noise that sounded slightly like air traveling over the wing of a speeding jet, the young mutants in their cotton pajama were whisked form the room and hopefully deposited safely hundreds of miles away at Mutant High.
"Good I was hoping that would work," Harry confided in Wolverine. "Portkey travel is a little bit like opening a gateway, and not as physical as apper— teleportation you'd call it."
Wolverine tried to look like that made all the sense in the world, although one thing was bothering him. "If you could do that, why didn't you magically disappear from your own cell?"
Harry fought a smile and looked embarrassed, "Truth be told I didn't think on. I'm actually rubbish when it comes to the theory of it, guess I nixed my methods of travel when one didn't work."
"You're the forgetful sort," Wolverine commented, then scratched his head, "Not as if I'm one to talk."
Harry didn't question this, instead he turned back to the three mutants that had stayed behind, he sized them up briefly but the evaluation was broken up when a short snap of gunfire blasted somewhere above them, reminding them very quickly of where they were.
"So if you know where we should go now would be a good time," Wolverine hinted, he raised his dark eyebrows.
Justin's gaze once again dropped to the floor.
"So, er, Justin those eyes of yours..."
"It's X-ray now," Justin quickly stated, his silver gaze meeting Harry's for a moment.
"No need to ask what you can do," Wolverine commented.
Justin chuckled, "Sort of basic I'll admit, but what can I say. It stuck." His eyes were once again searching below the floor. "The hallways have less paneling than the cell. I can see through most things but Adamantium is a little tough, makes things look very cloudy, and they have enough here to make it difficult."
"I'm Midnight," the girl with black skin stated.
"Trent, but they call me Last."
"For Elastic," Midnight offered in a way that sounded teasing.
Both Harry and Wolverine seemed a little surprised at the sudden introductions, especially as a closer blast of gunfire seemed to prevail upon them the dire circumstances they were in. Still they offered their names swiftly and turned back to Justin who was still examining the floor with a good deal of interest.
He squinted his eyes, focusing on a spot beneath them and to the left.
"If I had to say, based on the higher concentration of metal...maybe two floors down and that way."
Wolverine nodded, "Good enough for me."
The hallway itself was still looking rather secure, except for the guards slumped on the floor. It wouldn't fool anyone, but Harry placed them in a cell and re-locked the doors before moving on. Taking the hallways further and leaving from another locked door.
The hallways in this portion of the facility were maze-like, all the same color and stretching on in an endless manner that made it difficult to tell if they were going anywhere. Most looked empty but a few doors were spaced evenly though out. They'd opened the first few but they mostly seemed to be holding supplies, some food, more of the gray prisoner uniforms. They also found an empty break room with soda machines and coffee, as well a small lab with computers and microscopes. But everything was empty and of no use. Eventually they stopped checking the doors.
At one point the halls started slanting downward again, but X-ray was quick to point out that they were getting away from their main objective. They doubled back and found another branch of the tunnels leading more in their direction.
"Where are the stairs, this is taking too long, there have to be soldiers patrolling."
Harry knew that Last was right, and probably the only reason they'd been allowed such free reign thus far was because the three X-men had made a much more dramatic exit upstairs and likely the bulk of the military forces where chasing them. No one had seen Harry and Wolverine looked practically harmless compared to Cyclop's optic blasts.
Still it was only a matter of time before they ran into someone, and despite the young mutants enthusiasm, Harry really didn't know how capable they would be in a fight.
X-ray scanned the hallways again, his vison giving him a more three-dimensional view of where they were. The others could only see endless hallways.
Justin rubbed his head, "There is just too much of the damned adamantium," he cursed, "and they seem to just have these ramps going up and down.
"How close are we," Wolverine asked.
"Really, if we could get there. The cells are almost directly two floors under us. Least, I think they are cells, they have the same adamantium panels and the electrical currents. But I can't see inside so..."
"Any guards below us," Wolverine asked, his eyes flickering downward.
"No," Xray said with a shrug.
"And not so many of these panels in the hallways," Wolverine clarified.
Harry was starting to have a sneaking suspicion of where this was heading.
Justin, not so in tuned to the wild mutant's personality was less aware and merely nodded in answer to Wolverine's question.
The three young mutants drew back sharply when wolverine raised his fists and extended a sharp set of claws from his knuckles. With the force of a punch, he drove the adamantium claws into the floor below. It was mostly concrete, and the sharp claws tore though it easily. He was forced to maneuver around a metal beam and received a severe shock from an electrical wire that had been inside a plastic tube. But he shook off the near electrocution as if it were nothing more than an annoyance. And after a little effort an uneven circle, large enough to fit even someone of Wolverine's size had been hewn in the floor.
Wolverine gave the etched formation a solid kick and was verified when the floor dropped away, leaving a good sized hole in the floor. Harry deftly caught the falling concrete, setting it down more quietly.
Wolverine hopped down, and Harry followed at more controlled pace, as well as helping the other mutants who had to worry about little things like broken bones.
"I can see a little better now," X-ray said confidently, his head panning along the floor and the walls.
His strange metallic eyes seemed to be looking closely at specific areas.
"They're definitely down there, and..." he grinned and sent sort of amazed look at Wolverine, "We can take the stairs this time."
"Any guards?" Harry wanted to know.
"Uh..." X-ray worried his lip a bit, "Yeah, you could say that?" His walked down the hallways seeming to count. "Er, a lot. Think they must be on high alert or something."
"How many is a lot," Wolverine grunted.
" 'Bout twenty or so."
"Shite," Last commented, he ran his hand through his hair and looked like he was wondering how he'd gotten here. "That's impossible."
"Not impossible," Justin argued, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the older boy. "Telltale could do it easily."
"Yeah well none of us can control people's minds by just talking to them," Last pointed out, his voice starting to sound slightly hysterical.
"Unless..." Justin turned to Harry with an expectant expression.
"No," Harry said shaking his head. "Keep myself well away from the branches of mind control."
"If only it were dark," Midnight said suddenly. "We could get a jump on them, you wouldn't think they'd have night vision goggles?"
"Naw," X-ray said, his mind seeming to think up a plan. "The soldiers guarding us only had the standard issue, you know, gun and low intelligence."
Harry snorted at the joke and Wolverine raised an eyebrow.
"If we could make it dark, maybe Harry could sneak in there and unlock the doors. But they look like they have separate circuits." Justin looked closely nodding his head.
"But then we'd have the others in there to sort of even the battle. With all of them and us, it'd be no contest." Justin's enthusiasm seemed a little misplaced considering the sudden sound of a distant explosion, but the idea had merit. Harry liked the simplicity of it, and while Wolverine seemed to be a disappointed at the covert nature of the mission, he was nodding as well.
"Problem," Last pointed out, "How are we going to make it dark? And it's gonna have to be temporary, cause even if we knew where they kept the generators, and even if we destroyed one, we're miles underground. It's going to be black as pitch so even if we found our way out of this maze and managed to free the others, no one is going to be able to know who they are fighting."
Justin frowned but didn't seem to dismiss Last's concerns.
"I can make it dark in that hallway for a bit," Harry offered.
They gazed at him with some confusion.
"Just go with it," Wolverine advised.
"But Last has a point, how am I going to see to get near those locks? I can't be far away and it isn't going to be safe to wander around with so many armed people."
"Seeing isn't going to be the problem," Midnight said, her dark lips curling into a smile to reveal a pair of very white teeth.
A few moments later the small band of insurgents stood silently in a stairwell. Harry and Midnight were poised at the thick metal door. Like all the doors in this section of the building, it had been fit with another of the complicated mechanical locks. There was however, a very small, plexiglass, barred peephole that allowed them a very limited view of the small cellblock. It was enough for Harry to see the source of light, like the rest of the building, two row of florescent tubes that ran along the sides of the ceiling.
But first Harry concentrated on the lights in their stairwell as he whispered a spell that should result in a temporary darkness. Worked for candles anyway. But the principal was the same, and with a little extra force of magic, the lights flickered off leaving the mutants in a darkness that seemed to contain a heavy quality. The light from the small peephole in the door provided the only light to see by.
"Okay, here goes," Harry muttered. This time he concentrated on the other room, and now with more confidence he whispered his spell and couldn't stop the smile on his face when they were plunged into darkness.
Midnight's hand grabbed his and Harry trusted her to guide him forward. She stopped his hand and tapped her nails on his palm in a silent signal.
Alohomora, Harry thought,
Midnight shook his hand, and they moved passed the metal door. Harry held out his hands blindly to try and find the edges but once again Midnight seemed to latch on him, maneuvering herself so that she was right in front of him. She was just a little taller than him perhaps, and she moved slowly her back staying within touch of Harry's chest. She took of his left hand and held onto with her own, stretching both their palms out.
Once they cleared the door the noise started in earnest.
"Stay in stations," A commanding voice roared over the muttered confusion. "We must have lost one of the generators but the back up will be on shortly. Stay on your guard."
Harry wished he could see what Midnight did. To him it felt like he was moving though some dark sea and voices drifted past him. Once again Midnight reached out his hand and tapped his palm with her nail. Harry silently said the unlocking charm and was satisfied when a small beep met his ears.
They had decided to wait until all the doors were unlocked, and they made no move to open the door. Harry was once again dragged into his dance with Midnight. It seemed that not everyone was following their commanding officer's orders because Midnight stopped short a few times and twisted Harry silently in some way. Once she had them duck into a low crouch, another time they were plastered against a wall.
Harry was beginning to feel like he was losing his mind, he couldn't remember ever being somewhere so dark, and the vague notion that hostile presences were bobbing around in it with him wasn't exactly soothing. He'd preformed near on a dozen unlocking charms and thanks to their need for silence Harry had no idea how many more there were.
He had kneeled low and was moved on to another one when something touched him.
It was a shock to the senses, that there would be something else solid here. He'd grown used to Midnight's guiding hand but this was different.
"That you Carl," a gruff voice to his voice left.
"What you on about?" a voice to the right responded.
Midnight grabbed his shoulders suddenly and pulled back with enough force to knock him on his back. He hit the floor as silently as he could but the surprise had made his breathing a little heavy. And Midnight was gone, he knew he was sprawled in the hallway somewhere, trained killers above him and without her trusty guidance that seemed a lot less fun.
"Quit with the spook show," Carl said seeming to dismiss the other man.
"I told you I felt something!"
Harry stayed very still as he heard the sound of something swinging through the air. Other voices joined in as the anxiety lifted.
"Best just get on with it," Midnight's voice whispered. She was so close to his ear that he could feel her breath.
Harry rose to his feet as he sensed more than felt Midnight leave his side. He counted to ten slowly before turning the lights on.
It was blind havoc for a moment as they all tried to readjust from their time in the dark. And just as they could see again everyone became aware of certain things that shouldn't be there. Including a teenage boy standing in the middle of the cellblock.
Guns pointed in Harry's direction, which was a good distraction as Wolverine came charging in from the stairwell, his claws extended as he swept into the room. Harry discreetly waved his hand and all the previously locked cell doors opened.
Chaos was a good way to describe those next moments. Wolverine's assault continued to take down men and the bullets that ripped into his body seemed to only act as an irritation. Harry had to marvel at the older man's tolerance for pain. But he stopped watching Wolverine about the time that the guards near him decided to fire in his direction.
He hadn't exactly been trained to fight muggle bullets, still he reacted on instinct and decided that for him not getting hit might be the best method. He rolled to the side and summoned one of the cell doors to stand in front of him. Like in the facility that had held him, they were solid metal, over five cm thick. The door was also insanely heavy and his magic seemed to strain and buckle while holding it.
That was when he noticed the fire, exploding from his left a burst of blue flame suddenly roared through the hallways, singing the clean walls with soot and causing the men caught in it's path to scream as their uniforms caught fire.
The screams were the hardest part, Harry found himself glad that he couldn't see the sight from behind his barrier.
As the noise died down some Harry was about to look out when another person slid behind his shelter as smoothly as if he were on skates. Harry looked over, the man was dressed in the standard prison garb he himself had worn, he had thick dark hair and somewhat pale olive skin.
A burst of additional gunfire battered the door, following his new acquaintance.
The man winked at Harry before moving out from behind the door just as fast. Harry followed the man as he moved through the crowded hallways, his reflexes so sharp it seemed graceful. At least until he used his speed to ram his fist into one man's face, followed by a seamless elbow jab at another's nose. Maybe Harry was twisted, but there was something beautiful in that too.
More fire singed the room and the gunfire seemed to stop. Harry moved away to get a better grasp of the situation and finally found the source of the massive flames. Not a flame thrower as he'd been imagining, but rather a man whose face looked more serpentine or even dragon-like. His jaw came out like a snout and thick scales replaced his lips and ran upward to his eyebrows. Harry stood in some surprise as the man took a deep breath and then exhaled the same hot blue flames right at the hand of an injured guard who was reaching for a gun.
"Enough, Torch," a woman said in a controlling way. She looked odd among the two active mutants. The speedy mutant and his dragon-like friend just looked the sort to be fighting this war. The woman looked to be in her fifties, her short hair streaked gray and her face round and good natured.
"Cancer!" Justin's voice shouted from the stairwell.
"Mum," Midnight added. The two teens looked a great deal younger than they had seemed only moments ago. Both ran to the older woman and embraced her tightly.
Her facial expression softened and her lips trembled weakly. "Justin, Jennifer," she sniffled and her voice sounded rough. Her previous commanding manner vanished and she hugged the two teens tighter to herself.
"Have you...have you seen Mia?" she asked hesitantly.
"She's fine," Justin assured. "She and the others are safe, they got sent to New York."
"America?" The older woman questioned softly.
"Yeah, uh, they helped break us out," Justin gestured to Wolverine who seemed to be occupied shoving guards into the cells. The woman's gaze met Harry next and he had to fight the guilty feeling that he'd done something wrong.
"What was Xavier thinking," she scolded. "You're nothing more than a boy."
"He's got some cool skills though," X-ray added.
She looked upset for a moment, "You're both such children. You shouldn't have to deal with this mess."
Harry looked around, mess was a good way to describe it. Without a great deal of air current the smoke stayed, drifting about near the ceiling. And the floors were stained with blood. Wolverine had gone a long way to remove some of the bodies, injured or other wise. But Harry had seen his fair share of blood and carnage, and he couldn't even raise the energy to be upset anymore.
"Actually it seems like my kind of mess," he commented cynically.
Justin laughed, and the woman, Cancer, frowned.
"Dorene," a new voice intruded and everyone turned to see a man, mid thirties standing in the doorway to one of the cells. He was holding onto the door and he kept blinking his eyes, as if the floor was moving on him.
"Christopher, are you alright," Cancer crossed to the man and reached out to hold his arm.
Whatever fuzziness he had seemed to clear away some and the man looked closely at Cancer's face. "I think they've been putting something in my food...I have trouble staying awake."
"It's the same in here," the nimble mutant from before emerged from another of the cells, "Pat is in here, I can't wake him." He had a Spanish accent and a deep voice.
Cancer bit her lip, "Has anyone seen Thomas," her voice was a little shaky.
"Dorene," the man who looked like a dragon stood hesitantly by one of the doors. His voice sounded just like he looked, and his expression was difficult to read. "It doesn't look good," he warned her as she moved to the door.
Harry waited outside next to Justin and Midnight, both of whom looked like they'd frozen in fear. Midnight, who'd been so calm during their dangerous trek through the darkness was fidgeting with her hands and staring wide-eyed at the door Cancer had entered.
"He'll be alright," Justin said aloud to her, patting her arm in a clumsy way.
There was some muffled sort of noise from inside and Harry's gaze flickered to Justin and Midnight. Midnight was afraid, and seemed to be holding herself back. Justin's expression was just as easy to read, his eyes had become stony and his jaw line grew tense
"What did they do him, Torch?" Justin asked.
Torch seemed to think for a moment, Harry found his emotions impossible to read.
"They cut out his voice box."
"Those bastards!" Justin cursed harshly and his hands balled into fists at his side.
"Oh no!" Midnight clasped a hand over her mouth and ran into the cell.
Harry shared a glance with Wolverine. The man seemed very tightlipped since running into to the other mutants. He had decided, now that the room was clear of a militant force to essentially lean against the wall and cock his head as if listening to something. Harry did likewise for a moment and found he too could fear the faint explosions somewhere else in the building. It seemed the others were still on the move, which was a good thing.
But another noise, closer, stopped Harry short. He turned his head and listened for it again.
Bang.
It wasn't particularly loud, but it was coming from further in the cell block. Harry spied, with some surprise, a cell door that hadn't been opened. He supposed he hadn't really had time to check everything before all hell broke loose, he and Midnight had been forced to up their time table some.
The other mutants seemed busy investigating the cells, Justin was standing hesitantly at the room that must hold Thomas Winters. It seemed that the cells with filled with people who had been either too drugged or weak to come out on their own.
Harry moved his hand over the lock and barely needed to think the words before the small beep alerted him that the door had been unlocked.
Harry reached a hand out and opened the door, and a man, looking worn and thin, his black hair a tangle, fell to the floor weakly.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, helping the man to his feet.
The man coughed and relied on Harry's shoulder to steady himself.
That was when Harry's heart stopped beating, his lungs released the air in them and he stood feeling like his stomach had fallen to the floor.
"Sirius?" He asked weakly.
The man, that looked so much like his Sirius, blinked his gray eyes tiredly. How could Harry not recognize him, he looked just as weak as he had after asking Azkaban. The health that he had recovered looked like it had been washed from him.
"Harry?" he asked sounding filled with disbelief, "Harry, oh Merlin, I've finally found you."
Sirius clung to Harry's shoulder, wrapping onto his arms and drawing him closer. Harry felt numb. Sirius. He hadn't actually expected to find Sirius. How could Sirius be here? He reached up and wrapped a arm around Sirius's shoulder. The man seemed smaller, or maybe Harry had grown. It only seemed to highlight even more the simple and extraordinary fact that Sirius was alive, and here. Something he hadn't really let himself hope. How could this happen?
And what happened next?
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the latest installment in Harry's journey. I've endeavored to give you a chapter that was hopefully worth the wait. Can't even tell you how often I wanted to divide it in two etc. but this simply needed to be all together. In my planning I suppose I hadn't realized to what detail this one chapter would need to be. Well, you have it now I suppose.
Thank you to those who have reviewed, I made it past 1,000. Baffles the mind at times. But I hope that you can stay with me and rest assured I have every intention of finishing the fic. I already know the end is after all, and I think you'll like the ride.
Chapter produced sans beta, so feel free to point out all the errors you like, if you're detailed enough I'd be glad to fix any.
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