Bellwether | By : Nemain Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > General Views: 4549 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story. |
Bellwether Chapter Fifty
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… I keep forgetting
you have a shorter summer break!
InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and
wondermous for archiving/hosting. J
ProPhile: *white noise * Morgan: You okay? Readers/Reviewers: The story wraps
up this week and there’s going to be a day or so break while I tie up non-fic related things on other fronts then… more fic lol. Thanks for
reading and reviewing as you can! J
“Do you
know what people fear the most?”
“Clowns?”
Magneto
narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips into a thin line. “No, not clowns.”
“I dunno… I’m pretty scared of ‘em
myself and my brother…”
“People,”
he cut off the babbling young man who was busily loading his paltry belongings
into the trunk of the car, “fear the familiar.
Know yourself and you will know your enemy.” He stepped aside as the skinny, hawk-nosed
man who had been assigned to him by his host as his personal valet. “Thank you, Bradley. Your help is most
appreciated.”
Bradley
nodded, smiling in that vacant way only the truly uneducated, in Magneto’s opinion,
could manage. “Not a problem, sir. Thank
you, sir!”
Magneto
frowned more deeply but he did not comment on the man’s annoying bowing and
scraping, instead sliding into the car in the back seat as befit a man of his
advanced years and social standing, tapping on the thick Plexiglas divider to
signal the driver that it was time to leave.
Three hours rowing the damned boat, two more waiting for a ride, and
then the interminable remainder of his visit at the manor house, making excuses
for Mystique, known there as Raven Blau, and her sudden absence. He had briefly entertained fantasies of
killing her with his bare hands, the sophomoric thought But what color would she turn?, flitting across his mind as that
fantasy gave way to a more realistic one of public humiliation and possible
demotion in so far as the Brotherhood had ranks. His thoughts on the matter came to a sudden
halt as the car lurched to a stop and the dividing window slid down between him
and the driver. From his vantage point,
Magneto could see that the front driver’s side window was open and Bradley
stood there, panting, as if he had just sprinted down the drive. “Is there a problem?”
“No, sir,”
the driver said calmly, catching Magneto’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Bradley here just remembered that he forgot
to give you a message.”
Sighing,
Magneto shifted slightly in his seat, leaning forward to meet Bradley’s
concerned smile. “What is it then? Is it from Raven?” Something was off, he thought suddenly. Something did not seem kosher, as it
were. It was too staged, too quiet…
“No, sir,”
Bradley replied, his formerly shaky voice suddenly very calm. “It’s from Essex.” The gun came up suddenly, a practiced
movement that was smooth and subtle but still potentially deadly. Bradley did not have time to squeeze the
trigger, though, before the gun seemed to jump from his hand and smash, butt
first, against the driver’s temple.
Magneto had not moved from his seat—in fact, the only change of
expression was a slight elevation of a brow as the gun came around and pointed,
muzzle first, at Bradley.
“I have a
message for Essex,” Magneto replied. The gun fired and Bradley howled, blood
exploding from his shoulder as he fell back and down. Magneto let the gun fall into the seat beside
the driver, now slumped over the wheel, and eased himself out of the car. “I suppose this means I shall have to drive
myself…”
Logan’s expression was so
neutral as to appear almost cadaverous as the plane made it’s
final descent towards the hidden runway near the Institute. The jet was smaller than the one he had taken
out to Muir Island initially but was no less
difficult to handle, especially given the storm that seemed to be brewing over
the bay. He wondered if his companion
had anything to do with it as he throttled back and gritted his teeth. Someone, he decided, would be very, VERY
sorry about this. It had not taken him
long to get out of the
research facility, but the entire mission was a bust. From start to finish, it had all gone awry
and in his life, that just did not happen.
The massive hangar doors set into the face of a low cliff slid open at
his approach and he grimly fought the natural urge to duck as he guided the jet
into the cavernous space that ran for nearly half a mile underground. The workers left on Muir Island had been all
but absent as he made his way to the hangar there, the footsteps and shouts
floors above him giving the entire escape a haunted house feeling. There would definitely be Hell to pay, he
decided, the jet slowing as he reached the end of the runway. He closed his eyes as it powered down, trying
to school his temper into a semblance of “safe to be around” and failing
miserably. With a growl, he unlatched
the seat restraint and made his way out of the cockpit and to the floor of the
hangar in one jump.
“About time
you got back,” a familiar but strained voice said from the depths of the
shadows near the wall.
“Warren,” Logan
acknowledged. “Might not want to get between me and…anything…right
now.” He strode forward only to be stopped by the other man’s
outstretched wings. “Move it, Bird Boy…”
“Logan, before you go in…”
“Before I
go in, nothing. Move now and I’ll just
wound you rather than string you up with the others!”
“LOGAN!” Warren moved in front of him again, his face
set in thunderous lines. “Professor
Xavier’s plane is missing!”
“No, it’s
right…” He paused. “Missing?”
“Missing. Disappeared off the radar three hours ago. Missing.”
“…fuck.”
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