“So, yeah. We should have thought this through a little better,” Krystalin Ogada grumbled, edging her left foot back into a crouched position. Victor Ten Eagles crouched into a similar position and nodded his head before realizing that Krys’s attention was probably focused elsewhere. His eyes scanned the large room Tim had teleported the quarter of X-Men – rounded out by La Lunatica – into what Victor figured to be a Red Market stronghold of some kind. At least, the dozen or so Red Market guards leveling firearms at the X-Men would have suggested that to be that case.
As the shock wore off both sides of the standoff, Krystalin used her mutant powers to erect a crystal shield between herself and the guards who had realized they were supposed to shoot trespassers on sight. Victor took cover behind the shining wall and looked for danger behind himself and Krys – a fruitless gesture, as he immediately realized. Luna was shrugging the blasterfire off like raindrops, and Tim – Tim was on a veritable rampage, laughing gleefully as he absorbed dozens and dozens of shots almost as they left the barrels of the guards’ weapons. The haunting glow of his exposed skeleton grew brighter and brighter with each report of a guard’s rifle – and Tim’s laughter grew louder and louder.
“S’matter, guys? Never been to the zoo? Don’t you know you’re not supposed to feed the animals?!” Tim yelled between fits of maniacal giggling. Blasts from each of his hands knocked two guards off their feet. Luna had gotten her hands on two other guards, and was using her powers to leach off of pain to strengthen herself. She grew larger, seemingly, as she did this, and a dark smile spread across her face. Victor did not like where the duo were heading. He grabbed Krys’s shoulder.
“We need a plan, kiddo,” Victor said as he and Krys retreated to a near corner where the latter erected a crystal wall to keep the attacks at bay – a vain gesture, of course, with the other half of the quartet of X-Men enjoying their rampage.
“Did you have anything in mind?” Krys asked, eyes darting between the two entrances to the room.
“We need to get to one of the computer terminals – I want to get as much information as I can fit onto one of their hard drives and then strip it out before ‘porting back out. I’m pretty sure I can work the controls enough to get us back to Halo City – or at least I think I can if the teleportater terminal stores coordinates or – we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s get the drive and then worry about escape. Tim and Luna should be good for a few minutes of diversion, at least,” Victor finished with a grin.
Krys smiled back and rose to her feet. She pointed to the nearest computer terminal, and Victor nodded. The pair carefully made their way to the terminal where Krys erected another shield. Victor got to work.
“We’re here, we’re here! Just hold on for a few more minutes Quiv,” Sham said, taking her friend’s arm from around her shoulder and leaning the young mutant against the door frame. “I’m going to go in and get Xi’an, and everything will be fine.”
Quiver groaned a response and slumped to the floor. He was getting worse by the minute – it was only a matter of time before he had another spasm. Sham shuddered to think what would happen if Quiver’s powers went out of control inside of the city, so she left her friend and burst through the doors of the Sisters of the Howling Commandments’ convent in the slums of Halo City. She ran up the main aisle of the chapel screaming Xi’an’s name. Sister Nick, the oldest and toughest sister by far, rose from her prayers at the altar and approached the young mutant.
“Sham! What’s the matter, child?”
“Quiver – he needs help – he’s sick, and Xi’an needs to help him,” Sham said breathlessly, “It’s getting worse and he might explode again!”
“Explode?” Sister Nick said, raising an eyebrow, “Where is your friend?”
“Outside – he’s just outside – can you get Xi’an? We really need him.”
“Xi’an is out at the moment,” Sister Nick said, “We will help your friend as much as we are able in our infirmary downstairs.”
“Not here? But – but… where?” Sham stuttered. Sister Nick walked to the door and Sham moved after her, repeating her question.
“He received word that some of his X-Men had disappeared. One of the members of our congregation saw four X-Men walk into an alley, then there was a flash, and when the man went to look, no one was in the alley. Xi’an took Bloodhawk with him to investigate,” Sister Nick explained calmly as she stepped through the door, and resting her eyes on Quiver, asked, “Is this him?”
Sham nodded. Not here. He’s not here…
“I have to find him. Where did he go?”
Sister Nick raised Quiver to his feet and walked him into the convent where she was met by two sisters.
“Take him to the infirmary and begin treatment immediately,” Nick commanded. The two sisters nodded. “I’m taking Sham here to get Xi’an.”
The heavy doors of the convent shut slowly, and too quietly for their size. Sister Nick walked around the side of the convent and motioned for Sham to follow. The pair walked to a large door in the side of the convent which slid open when Sister Nick entered a code into a keypad on the wall, revealing two large trucks and several hoverbikes. Sister Nick sat on the nearest bike.
“Get on and hold on tight, child.”
“Knock, knock,” Morphine Somers said with a slimy grin as he slid into Shakti Haddad’s office. She rolled her eyes as they sighted his slicked-back green hair and form-fitting black leather “uniform,” as he was now referring to it. Shakti shuffled some datapads on her desk and tapped a few keys on her keyboard.
“I’m a little busy now, Somers,” Shakti said, looking interested in her monitor’s screen saver. No point in letting Morphine know she left all the real work for Henri.
“Oh, this won’t take long, of course,” Morphine said with a forced smile, “I just wanted to ask you about some… projects you’re working on right now.”
“I’m just doing the daily administrative tasks for the department. Keeping the Council off your back, keeping the public off your back, keeping the press off your back – basically keeping everyone we’re accountable to in the dark,” Shakti said with her own slimiest grin.
“Hmm. And doing a won-derful job of it, too, my dear. But I just had a few other questions. Boys down in records say you’ve been asking about bogus cases recently.”
“Not bogus, missing,” Shakti corrected sternly.
“Hmm. Well, I’ll look into it, then. It’s a little outside of the purview of your department,” Morphine said with yet another false smile, “By the way, I was wondering if you were free tonight. We haven’t really had time to get comfortable together, and I was thinking we could get some dinner and get… better acquainted.”
“I’m washing my hair,” Shakti said dryly. Morphine lost his composure for just a second – letting a sneer slip that was quickly covered up by his faked smile.
“I’m sure your father would understand the importance of hygiene,” Morphine said. Shakti snapped her head away from her computer screen, ready with a burning retort, but Morphine was too quick to change the subject.
“One more thing – I’m told you were in contact with Xi’an Chi Xan at the Council meeting earlier today. Did he have anything… interesting to say?”
“We were just catching up,” Shakti said with a touch of venom.
“Hmm. Very good, then,” Morphine said, spinning on his heel and taking the two steps to the door. He stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder, “One more thing, Shakti. I love our little back and forth for the moment, but I… caution you not to abuse my trust too far. No one in this building is… inessential to my operation. Some are more inessential than others, if you get my drift.”
And he left smiling.
“Did she say chicken sandwich or chicken salad? Shockit – who knew this would be the hardest part of the job?” Henri Huang groused, holding up the line in the commissary. “Ah, I’m a problem solver. I’ll get both, and pretend like I wanted the other one after she takes hers. I am sooo brilliant.”
Henri grinned and grabbed one container of salad and one of the sandwiches for his tray. He turned to walk off toward the drink fountain, but halfway through turning around, he was interrupted by a solid body. His tray clattered to the floor with his food, and he turned to the man he had knocked into, ready to hit him with his best “watch where you’re going,” but when he caught sight of the man’s face, the world’s fastest mutant stopped dead in his tracks.
“B… Boone!? Jordan Boone?” Henri gasped.
“Well, I go by Jack, now, as you well know, but I’m trying to travel incognito, if ya knowhuttamean – and you do, so I don’t know why I’d have to add that other than dramatic effect, which I think maybe it lacked a little, but the past is the past – hrrk! Why so rough, chum?” Halloween Jack complained, an injured look in his eyes as Henri grabbed him by the collar and dragged Jack to an empty corner of the commissary.
“Why. Are. You. Here?” Henri asked through gritted teeth.
“No reason. Just wanted to see how my best friend was doing, is all, buddy. Pal. Friend. A-mi-go. Am I saying that right? My Spanish is terrible. Oh, and I… might be in the market for a job. Tough economy - y’know, for those of us blackballed by the megacorps. But hey, you lived through that yourself. You know anyone who needs a slightly eccentric genius on the payroll?”
“No,” Henri said sternly.
“Don’t you?” Jack said, face contorting into a sinister grin as he extended a finger towards the entrance of the commissary. Henri turned his head around to see an agitated Morphine Somers strut through the elaborate archway. Henri whipped his head back to Jack with a new threat on his tongue to find his rival vanished. Henri wiped a hand across his forehead.
“Shock me.”
Sister Nick brought the hoverbike to a very abrupt stop on the corner of two dirty streets. Sham strained her eyes to see why the sister had stopped here, but she couldn’t spot Xi’an. Sister Nick stripped off her helmet and got off the bike.
“He’s supposed to be in a side alley down this way,” Nick said waiting for Sham to come with her. Sham noticed for the first time the sound of angry shouts coming from further down the street, and following the noise, she saw a large crowd gathered on the left side of the road. Sham and Nick hurried down the opposite side of the street, deciding that perhaps getting involved at the moment would cost them time that Quiver didn’t have. As the pair passed the crowd, Sham heard a familiar voice call for calm.
“Please, everyone! There is no need for anger to cloud our senses! I’m sure there is a rational explanation for whatever has happened here,” Xi’an said in a stern, booming voice. Sham stopped in her tracks and turned to the crowd. Sister Nick stopped the young mutant from taking another step forward by putting a hand on her shoulder. When Sham tilted her head at the sister, Nick shook her head and placed an extended finger over her lips. Sham grimaced and turned back to the crowd, but did not approach Xi’an.
Sham took in the situation; Xi’an and a tall, bald man were between an angry group of slummers and a squad of five police officers. Behind the officers, a young mutant with orange hair and purple scales was curled up on the ground, a pool of blood slowly spilling from his mouth and nose. Xi’an had his back to the police, hands raised to hold back the crowd. The bald man with Xi’an stared menacingly at the cops.
“Can someone tell me what happened here?” Xi’an asked, as the crowd began to quiet down.
“This punk was going for my gun!” one of the officers growled in a menacing rasp. “We took the appropriate pacification measures, as detailed in –”
“Bite rats! He just bumped into you and you beat the crap out of him, shocking fascists!” a young woman with blonde hair and a dirty face screamed from the front of the crowd. The cops each raised their stun rods and took an aggressive step towards the crowd. Xi’an turned to the police officers and attempted to calm them down.
“Please! We can sort this out without resorting to that,” Xi’an pled calmly, pointing to the lead officer’s stun rod. The cop decided not to listen, and raised the rod over his head. He slid his foot forward, as if assuming an attack posture. The bald man with Xi’an let out a ferocious – and familiar – growl, and Bloodhawk burst through the man’s skin, all talons and gnashing teeth and beating wings. Several of the officers shrieked in surprise; the others yelped meekly. All five turned and ran.
“Was that necessary?” Xi’an asked, kneeling by the boy while unwrapping his right hand.
“It was expedient. That’s close enough,” Bloodhawk snarled – or, wait, was that his smile? Xi’an shuddered and applied his healing touch to the injured boy lying in the street.
“Have you moved on to jokes, now? I guess the apocalypse has to happen sometime,” Xi’an said wryly, helping the boy to sit up. “I’ve healed your injuries, but you’ve lost a bit of blood. Sister Nick will see to it that you get home safely. Sister?”
Xi’an gave the sister a sideways glance; she nodded her assent and aided the young mutant to his feet. Xi’an turned to Sham and smiled warmly.
“You’ve returned! It is good to see you safe, Sham,” Xi’an said opening his arms wide, but, noting the urgent dismay on the girl’s face, shed his smile for a look of concern. “Are you all right?”
“I need your help. My friend, Quiver, he’s at the convent and he’s really sick.” Sham pled, “You have to help him! The Red Market took him and… and… it’s a long story, but now we need to hurry!”
Xi’an nodded and turned to Bloodhawk.
“We’ll have to come back here to look for the others later. May I bother you for a lift back to the convent?” Xi’an asked, and after receiving Bloodhawk’s annoyed grunt that usually signified assent, turned back to Sham. “Do you know your own way back? I’m afraid this ride only has a capacity of one.”
Sham nodded and didn’t wait for the pair of X-Men to leave before she sprinted back down the street in the direction of the convent. Bloodhawk swept his wings downward, propelling himself into the air. Xi’an extended his hands upward and latched onto Bloodhawk’s forearms as the latter made a low pass overhead. The wind tore at Xi’an’s face; Bloodhawk wasn’t being stingy with the speed.
“Shock! They finally cut my access,” Victor said, opening a small compartment in the bicep of his robotic arm. He removed a small screwdriver. “Guess it’s time to take this thing out and find a way out of this place.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Krys responded, checking the crystal shield she had erected around herself and Victor. The sounds of battle had grown quieter over the past few minutes.
“I think they’re running out of fodder, babe,” Luna laughed as she tossed the last of her opponents over her shoulder. The Red Market guard hit the floor with a thud and a crack.
“Guess so,” Tim said gloomily, powering down for the first time since the quartet of X-Men had accidentally teleported into the Red Market base. Victor grunted as he ripped the hard drive out of the console he had been using. He said nothing as he moved past Krystalin toward the control panel for the teleporter.
“All right, I think I can work this,” Victor said, but as the last word left his lips, the lights in the room went dark. “What happened?”
“They cut power to the room,” Tim said. “I can feel it. Man, this whole scene is getting boring anyway. Come on, I’ll reopen the tear and we’ll go out for a drink.”
“Good plan, surprisingly,” Krys said, darting to the pad.
“Huh? Oh, I guess you guys can come too,” Tim said absent-mindedly. Luna chuckled and sneered at Krys, who returned the look with a grim stare.
“Knock it off,” Victor said, “Let’s just get out of here.”
Tim walked to the center of the teleport pad and extended a glowing, skeletal hand. In a flash of light, the X-Men found themselves in a familiar alley.
“He’s here, oh God, oh God, he’s here and I saw him!” Henri blurted out as he burst through the door to Shakti’s office. Shakti leaned back in her chair and gave Henri a quizzical look.
“Who’s here?”
“Jack!”
“Oh. That’s bad,” Shakti said, snapping to attention in her seat. “Did he say why?”
“He made a crack about looking for a job and then hinted that he was here to join up with Somers,” Henri said, sinking into the chair behind his own desk. He rested his forehead on the palm of his hand.
“Was he joking?” Shakti asked.
“How can you tell?” Henri retorted.
“I thought you were the expert,” Shakti responded. “But while we’re on the subject of bad news, Morphine paid me a visit. Warned me off looking into the missing person cases; all but came out and said he was behind all of them.”
“This is getting bad, Shak.”
“Yeah, but we can still do something useful from here.”
“What?”
“…Did you forget my lunch?”
“Did you just try and change the subject?”
“Hey, boss, when’s the next paycheck due?” Junkpile asked Morphine Somers in a voice that was not Junkpile’s. Somers vaulted over his impressively-sized desk and wrapped his left hand around the intruder’s neck.
“You have three seconds to convince me not to turn you into three billion years worth of dust,” Morphine growled. The figure in his grip was puzzled for only a second, but broke into high-pitched, hysterical laughter. “Junkpile’s” neck got thinner and greener, and Junkpile’s typical iron frown turned upside down as the intruder took a step back from Morphine Somers and bowed at the waist, sweeping his hands to his left.
“Presenting the eccentric, the eclectic, the brilliant, the bumbling, the irresponsible and irrepressible… Halloween Jack!” the intruder said, drawing himself to his full height and throwing his arms to either side. Morphine contorted his face into an unimpressed sneer. Jack took a step forward and snapped his hand at Morphine’s chest, presenting the Protectorate’s director with a slip of paper.
“My card, sir,” Jack said with a deranged grin. Morphine snatched the piece of paper and read it aloud.
“Have zaniness, will travel? What do the - ? Nevermind. Get out of my office before I decide you are worth the effort to kill.” Morphine dismissed Jack with a wave of the hand as he turned to walk around his desk.
“You wound me, oh verdantly-follicled-overlord. I am but here to serve you. Or mess with Hanky. But I don’t suppose you’d really object to either, would you? Hmmm?” Jack said with a hyena smile. Morphine frowned at the clown on the other side of his desk. His research on the X-Men’s enemies had revealed that trusting Jack had never worked out well for anyone, but… Morphine knew enough not to waste a potential resource until he was certain it would be useless. Sighing heavily, he reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a communicator.
“This has a direct line to my office; it can only be called by this phone, right here,” Morphine said, pointing to a receiver on his desk, “You will never contact me, but I will contact you when I have work for you. You will stay out of sight and out of trouble until I call you with this. And, most importantly, you are not to make contact with Henri Huang under any circumstances. Is this clear?”
Jack nodded gleefully and his grin grew wider.
“Get out of my office,” Morphine commanded with a wave of the hand. Jack snapped a sharp salute and executed a back handspring out of the doorway. Morphine punched a code into the keypad on his desk, locking the room’s heavy doors and sealing the windows. He pressed the first speed-dial number on his phone console.
“Interesting company we’re keeping, nowadays,” Book teased, forming a close approximation of a smile on his stony face.
“How do we control him?” Morphine snapped back, ignoring his advisor’s taunts.
“We can’t, really, but we can point him in a general direction.”
“Where might that be?”
Book smiled.
Sham was out of breath as she burst into the convent of the Sisters of the Howling Commandments. She grabbed the nearest sister, who, after overcoming a momentary surprise at being grabbed so suddenly, smiled and pointed Sham in the direction of the infirmary. Sham ran down the aisle of the chapel and down a set of stairs behind a door to the right of the altar. Sister Nick and a group of sisters were gathered in prayer in the hallway, in front of an open door. As Sham approached the prayer group, she began to hear the faint hum and beeps of medical equipment. Sister Nick looked up at Sham as the young mutant approached.
“I apologize for leaving so suddenly,” Sister Nick started, but Sham stopped her with a wave of the hand.
“That kid needed your help more than I did,” Sham assured the sister. “How is Quiver?”
“We’re not sure,” Sister Nick said slowly. “He’s showing symptoms consistent with several genetic muscular degenerative disorders, but tests so far have run negative for all of them.”
“Not genetic,” Xi’an voice called from the infirmary room through gritted teeth. “Virus – tailored to his genetic sequence. Just need time.”
Sham walked to the door of the infirmary and looked in. Xi’an sat on what looked to be a wooden end table, in a meditation position. His legs were crossed and his left hand was on his knee. His golden right hand lay on Quiver’s forehead, unwrapped. An aura of energy surrounded Xi’an’s hand, and Sham thought she could see how the energy flowed over and into Quiver’s new body, but it moved with a mercurial swiftness. Sham couldn’t follow any energy stream for more than a half second. For the first time in days, Sham thought everything would be all right.
She had forgotten that for the X-Men, all right was never enough. Sham turned her head in the direction of a fracas coming from the stairs. A column of armed police officers stormed down the stairs, shoving sisters in the hall out of the way and demanding Xi’an Chi Xan. They had a warrant, they said. Sister Nick stood her ground in the middle of the hall. The lead officer, a mountain of muscles barely contained under glowing yellow skin, reached out to brush Sister Nick aside. The sound of three dozen safeties clicking off froze his hand in midair. The officers’ heads scanned left and right, noting at least twice their number in sisters casually gripping an array of automatic weapons.
“This is a house of God, son. Watch your manners,” Sister Nick warned in a voice colder than any Sham had ever heard.
The officer mumbled a sheepish “excuse me” and, when Nick moved slowly to the side, making sure the officer felt her glare every step of the way, stormed into the infirmary room, where Xi’an had not broken his connection or concentration on Quiver. The officer raised a heavy boot and knocked Xi’an from the table; Xi’an flailed to the floor, hitting his head on a piece of medical equipment Sham couldn’t identify.
“Yer comin’ wit’ us, dreg,” the officer slurred. Sham got out of the man’s way as he dragged Xi’an out of the room by his hair. Sister Nick produced a modified assault shotgun from her robes and prepared to make her reprimand – but she never got the chance. Nick, the lead officer, and the seven that had come with him, stopped in their tracks as a thunderous roar echoed through the halls of the convent, followed by the girlish screams of a dozen grown men.
“I take it Bloodhawk was on the warrant as well,” Sister Nick said with a mocking smile, lowering her weapon, “You’re going to need more jackbooted thugs.”
Victor grumbled to himself about losing his scanning equipment for the hundredth time since teleporting back to Halo City; in his defense, it was expensive, but leaving expensive equipment unattended in the slums of Halo City was basically the same as just giving it away to some random guy on the street – he’s going to end up with it anyway. Krys squeezed his elbow for the hundredth time and told to shake it off like a man. Victor was not pleased. He didn’t know what he was going to say to Xi’an, but he felt some sort of complaint was in order. His thoughts, and those of his companions, were interrupted when they were but one turn of a corner away from the convent of the Sisters of the Howling Commandments. The sounds of a great struggle issued from the convent’s direction.
Their interest piqued, the quartet of X-Men ran to the corner to see what the commotion was, not knowing what to expect. Victor’s eyes fell upon a scene he could not at first comprehend – seven large, armored vehicles were stationed outside of the convent, which was surrounded on all sides by dozens of police officers in riot armor. A large crowd had gathered to see what all the fuss was about. The crowd buzzed with surprise when a handcuffed figure was dragged from the convent by the hair. Victor immediately recognized his oldest friend, Xi’an Chi Xan, and knew something had gone terribly wrong in his absence.
Before Victor could order his thoughts, a police officer sailed through the doorway, but obviously not of his own volition. The officer slammed into one of the vehicles, denting the man’s helmet. Ten or more officers scrambled out of the building after the man, some of them shrieking in terror. Victor at first had no idea what could elicit such a response from grown men, but a red figure streaking out of the building and into the line of police answered that question.
“Whoa – Bloodhawk’s really getting into it,” Tim said with childish glee. “But let’s not let him have all the fun, right, babe?”
Luna winked and nodded, balling her hands into fists as she started into a full sprint, straight into the line of police officers standing guard. Three of them fell to the ground; a fourth approached her, tall and glowing yellow, and took a direct blow to the face without flinching. He smiled and prepared a counterblow, but before he could strike, a bolt of green energy knocked him from his feet.
“Guess we’d better get our boots on the ground too, eh?” Tim asked, turning to rush into the fray.
“Maybe we should see what’s happening first… and he’s not listening,” Victor said, annoyed. “He’s going to get us killed.”
“Or imprisoned, but what the heck. X-Men stick together through thick and thin, Vic,” Krystalin said, winking at Victor as she formed herself a long staff of crystal. “You want one of these?”
“No, I work best with my hands,” Victor said with a sigh, following Krys into the fight. Before they had joined in the melee, however, a loud siren sounded as a sleek, black aircraft hovered into the airspace over the street and lowered itself to the ground. A blue news copter followed the aircraft, dropping mini-hovercams into the area to cover the story from all angles.
The door of the craft opened, and out stepped a tall, green-haired man in a black leather suit exuding an air of authority and bravado so thick Victor felt like he was choking on it from a hundred feet away. After Morphine Somers, a half-sized man in a black outfit wearing sunglasses, a timid-looking young woman, a female wolf creature, a walking trash heap, and Victor’s old friend from his Lawless days, Junkpile, all emerged from the Aircraft.
“Freedom Force has arrived to take control of the situation,” Morphine exulted, “Everything will be OK.”
Morphine smiled to the cameras and the crowd, who met him with less enthusiasm than he would have liked; in fact, he was most displeased with the chorus of boos and hisses that issued from the ever-rowdier mob forming around the incident.
“We are here to arrest Xi’an Chi Xan and the mutant known as Bloodhawk for interfering in a legitimate police arrest and threatening officers of the law,” Morphine said. “Such lawlessness will not be allowed in my city!”
Still, he received no cheers. Xi’an managed to drag himself to his feet and the crowd began gesturing towards him and chanting his name. Morphine saw his opportunity to take control of the situation, and turned to address the X-Men’s leader.
“Xi’an, would you please ask your friends to settle down before we are forced to arrest them, as well,” Morphine said, a pained expression on his face. “We have the word of five of my best officers that you interfered with the arrest of a criminal attempting to steal one of the officer’s weapons. Please surrender before this gets ugly.”
“Little late for that,” Tim chided, but before he could continue, he was silenced by a gesture from Xi’an.
“I was merely intervening in order to avert a riot,” Xi’an replied calmly. “A crowd had gathered around the… incident, and was turning angry. I was merely attempting to facilitate the prevailing of cooler heads.”
The crowd clapped and cheered Xi’an’s words, and several members demanded that the “pigs get out.” Xi’an gestured for the crowd to quiet down.
“This can end without further violence,” Xi’an said. Morphine was getting visibly irritated.
“And what of him?” Morphine extended a finger to point out Bloodhawk. “He threatened my officers!”
“Your officers? Or the city’s?” Xi’an asked coyly, but, before Morphine could fire off his angry retort, the X-Man continued, “I do not believe Bloodhawk overtly threatened your officers. He was merely… ah… yawning.”
The crowd laughed, and Xi’an allowed himself a smile. Morphine was red in the face at this point, and stepped forward.
“Nevertheless, I have a warrant for your arrest, and--”
Morphine was interrupted by cries from the crowd.
“Leave him alone!”
“He didn’t do nothin’!”
“Police brutality! Police brutality!”
“Where was the cops when my boy got shot, huh? Where was you then?”
Morphine Somers was a proud man. He was not one to admit defeat when a chance of victory was still within reach, and he began to realize this situation could no longer be spun to his advantage. A crowd had gathered, and threatened to turn into a mob, with his presence as the inciting factor. It had been a bad idea to invite the cameras; Book would be insufferably smug about that fact later on. No, a compromise was his only hope.
“I can see that there are perhaps more sides to this story than I had considered,” Morphine said through a smile of gritted teeth. “I will suspend the warrant pending a more intensive investigation of the charges. We apologize for the interruption of your lives, please go about your business.”
Morphine turned briskly and boarded his aircraft. His Freedom Force followed suit, and they flew off back to horizon. The police officers gathered their wounded, clamored into their transports, and made all haste out of the slums. The people gathered on the street roared with applause.
Bloodhawk roared in victory.
Victor rushed to his friend’s side and saw that there was blood running down the side of Xi’an’s head. The X-Man was barely able to stand, by the look of things.
“Are you all right?” Victor asked.
“Fine. Where were you?”
“Long story short, Tim managed to open a portal to a Red Market base – I’m taking that as evidence that you were right about their presence in Halo City. We fought off the guards long enough to get this,” Victor held up the hard drive he had obtained from the Red Market base and hidden inside of his jacket. “It’s got as many files as I could get from the RM database before I was cut off from the system. I don’t know what all I was able to get, yet.”
“Get a system not connected to the net and get to work.”
“What about you?”
“I still have some work to do,” Xi’an said, as he pulled the glove off of his left hand. The cuffs that the police had neglected to remove atomized under his touch and he replaced the glove. He took a shaky step towards the convent, and would have fallen flat on his face had Victor not caught him. Sister Nick approached the pair and took the load of Xi’an’s weight over her shoulder.
“We need to get you a bed,” Nick said softly, moving Xi’an toward the door.
“No – the boy, I need to finish with the boy,” Xi’an said in a near-whisper.
“He’ll keep ‘til the morning,” Sister Nick assured him. “Now that we know we’re looking for a virus, we might not even need you. Now, let’s get that head looked at.”
“Inside and out,” Tim mused as he followed the nun and the mutant leader into the convent.
“We could do you, too, while we’re at it,” Krys sniped, moving through the doors with the group.
Henri dropped into his bed, making a soft “whoosh” noise as he hit the soft mattress. At least there was one benefit to not staying with the X-Men in the convent – the old spring mattresses in the convent’s dormitories were… well-worn, at the least. Henri’s eyes blinked closed once, twice, and he could feel himself drifting off to sleep.
A sound from next to the bed re-opened Henri’s eyes, and the mutant sprang to his feet and prepared to pummel whatever crawled through the slowly opening window. Henri did a double-take as a green chimpanzee climbed into the room and came to a rest on the apartment’s floor. Henri almost fell flat on his back when the animal opened its mouth and spoke.
“I got a gig, Henri! You and me, we’re gonna be even bester friends!”
TO BE CONTINUED…
Next Issue: Friends, of course, is a relative term.