XVI. Secrets and Revelations
Admiral Scott Summers was knee deep in his lecture to young Bobby Drake, when Hank McCoy barged into his office. They both looked up. Bobby smiled in recognition. Summers frowned.
"What is the meaning of this?"
McCoy blinked at the handsome younger man and took a minute to catch his breath before speaking. It was hard to know where to begin with this story. Might as well go with the obvious.
"There's trouble."
Summers immediately stood up from his desk and walked around to lean on it's edge. Bobby looked between the two men, apparently his lecture on underage drinking would wait. Both he and Summers knew the Santa Anna was docking. The first mate running to see Summers meant only one thing - news of Marie Elizabeth Xavier.
"Did you find something? Is she……"
McCoy shook his head and tried not to stare at the eyepatch the young admiral wore. Despite his old grudge with him, McCoy had to admit Xavier's boy had done good that day. He still remembered that battle clearly and Creed's men were brutal. Despite the eye, he was very lucky to walk away alive. Guilt briefly gnawed at McCoy for the cruel nickname the men on the wharves gave the admiral from that day on. They meant it as a compliment of course, since everybody had them, but he knew it hurt Summers, who was first and foremost a gentleman. He himself had a few issues with being called Beast. In a way he was glad that the Wolverine had been the one to put Creed down. He had a gash across his back from the man and nobody had deserved a cold death more than Creed.
"Yes, no, I mean yes we found her and she was fine, but she's been taken."
Summers turned completely white. In a span of a second he went from ecstatic to just plain pissed. Bobby opened his eyes wide and watched Summers walk back around to his desk. He didn't understand. Summers had mobilized a small fleet, and she was found, but then taken? He himself had gone off on the Esperanza with Cable in search of the girl, but he had never really thought they would find anything. The ocean was simply too wide and too unforgiving. Lost in the memory of afternoon talks on deck with the beautiful Marie Elizabeth, Bobby jumped at Summer's unusually hostile tone.
"Who was it? What do you know?"
McCoy flashed a half grin. He knew Xavier treated the guy like a son. And if he wasn't needed so desperately in Puerto Nuevo to walk little old ladies across the street, Summers would have been the first one on a ship himself. It was the one thing he shared with the uptight do-gooder, they both loved the sea.
"Lebeau. He carted her off to Xavier's I think, but something wasn't right and she was alone"
Both Summers and Bobby looked at McCoy in shock. Her fiancé? Pirates maybe, but her fiancé? Summers had spent time with the lawyer before the search began. He was mysterious for sure, but no-one had questioned his dedication to finding Marie Elizabeth. Summers actually admired him for it. Despite his lack of nautical training, he had even given Lebeau command of the Santa Anna at his request. His grip on the desk tightened.
"McCoy, you are playing a dangerous game if you slander this man's name."
The first mate rubbed his two-day stubble and placed his large hands on Summer's desk too. They were now face to face. He could hear the approaching footsteps of Bishop and Cable to the backroom office. Summers barely acknowledged them with a look, still staring at McCoy and thinking over the possibilities of Lebeau somehow being less than what he had purposed himself to be.
"Look Summers, the girl is in danger, so is her escort and the man that saved her. Now we could stand here and have afternoon tea and discuss it or you can get your ass in gear and help us get to the bottom of this."
Summer's jaw twitched and grateful that the sailor had at least not called him Cyclops, went to open his drawer and withdraw a key. As Cable, Bishop, McCoy and Bobby looked on, he opened the cabinet behind him and withdrew long rifles for each of them before holstering two revolvers at his side. Throwing Bobby three casks of gunpowder and a spare revolver, he faced the men one last solemn time.
"We do this my way. Tell me everything you know."
The four other men exchanged glances before stepping out behind him, heavily armed and once again confident. Summers grabbed his riding gloves on the way out and called out to his messenger, a petite Asian girl, to inform Mrs. Summers that he would not be home for their customary mid-day meal. Taking a minute to see over the low-lying buildings to the seven sailing ships docked in the harbor, all four sailors quickly readied horses and took after Summers at full gallop through the cobbled streets.
Marie shut her eyes tighter when the carriage came to a sharp stop almost jostling her to the floor. But Lebeau, who was sitting across from her, stuck his booted foot out and prevented her from falling with a shove. Barely feeling the heel in her side, Marie sobbed tearlessly and clutched her cross tighter. She couldn't make out what Lebeau was saying to her, but she winced when his fingers dug into her arms and yanked at her. They stumbled out of the carriage, and Marie had to bring her hand up to cover her eyes from the brightness of the sun. She stumbled a few more steps alongside the tall man before her eyes adjusted from being in the dark coach.
Still squinting, Marie shook her head in confusion when she realized her hands were together. They were tied. She looked numbly at the rope around her wrists. It cut and grated into her skin, rubbing it raw. Slowly waking to realization, Marie started to come back to the world of the feeling. It was hot. It smelled like cut grass. Under her feet she felt gravel through the thin membrane of her slippers. She was tied and being led. Like an animal. Just like that day on the Isabella, where she was taken. Like a lamb to the slaughter.
Clutching her cross in remembrance, Marie flung her eyes wide and ventured a look up. She was being led up a path through lush green lawns to a house. The first thing she saw was the prominent brass X that traversed the double front doors just yards ahead of her. Enormous doors that led to an enormous house. Tightening her grip on the cross so that the edges threatened to break the soft skin of her palms, Marie gasped in realization. This was home. Her home. She skidded to a complete stop in the white gravel and turned to face Lebeau with clear and lucid eyes.
"Get your hands off me!!"
The man huffed in exasperation and raised the silver gun he had in his other hand.
"Why couldn't you just cooperate a little longer my dear? It would have made things easier."
Marie stared down the barrel of the gun numbly. Her voice was gravelly from all the crying she had done.
"Stop this now, or my father will……"
Her words were cut short, by a slap across her face. Marie reeled back from the stinging blow, the butt of the gun having caught her square in the jaw. She tasted blood in the inside of her mouth, but to her surprise she didn't feel tears, just a cold vindictiveness wash over her entirely. Lebeau gabbed her by the hair and pulled her up to face him. His grip tightened on her arm also.
"Your father will do nothing, my chere."
Marie stared at him coldly, before spitting into his face with a ferocity she never knew she had. Lebeau grimaced in disgust and raised his hand again. Her hands still useless at her chest, Marie braced for another blow, only it never came.
"You're late!!"
The cutthroat known only as Blob due to his enormous bulging girth, sneered at the scene from the doorway. Lebeau glared at Marie again before wiping his face and pulling her forward by her tied hands. A horrible realization dawned on Marie as she stared at the enormous man who had a bloody stain on his pant leg, where his saber rested and dripped slightly.
"What have you done?? What are you thinking??"
Tired of struggling, Lebeau flung Marie to the white marble steps leading up to the house and cocked his gun at her head.
"Marie Elizabeth, my sweet, if you do not cooperate, rest assure I will kill you, or better yet I'll kill your beloved little sister. So if you please."
Marie braced against the steps with mouth gaped wide open, before realizing that she had no choice. They had Kitty. They would hurt her. Head spinning with an unbearable headache, she stood slowly and followed the enormous man inside. He looked her up and down and she cringed before stepping through the door he held open. Still wondering whose blood rested on his sword, Marie came to sudden stop.
Tears filled her again as she caught sight of the dramatic frame hung opposite the door and overlooking the foyer. In a massive painting stood an ebony goddess sitting in a lush garden abloom in color. Her expression was serene and beautiful. It was her mother. Feeling a tide of emotion sweep her, she barely registered the gun pushing in between her shoulder blades.
"Move it, or you'll be joining her soon enough."
Still in awe, Marie ignored the threat. Her eyes took in everything in the expansive room. This home was a monument to her mother. It was evident from the minute you step foot in it. The peace and greenness flowed throughout and yet it was being marked so brutally.
Long forgotten screams echoed in Marie's memory. It was desecrated once before, they day her mother was murdered by prejudiced, thieving bastards. And now twelve years later her loved ones where in danger again. She had lost two already, she would not loose her sister and father as well. Catching her white streaks in the reflection of the silver frame the massive painting was encased in, Marie unconsciously clutched her stomach and turned slowly. She leaned in close to the man she once considered her destiny and now considered a hated enemy.
"I will kill you Lebeau, that I promise."
The startled man took an unsure step back from the intense ferocity of Marie's words. Even with the gun, he had a flash of insecurity that left him ashamed. Glancing a look at Blob, he shoved her again, more to get her to stop staring at him with such unabashed hatred as to get his plan on the way. He gave Blob an unsure look.
"Well, don't just stand there!"
The mammoth man complied with a grumble and led Marie through darkly paneled hallways and high ceiling'd rooms to a library chamber at the heart of the house. Marie gasped at the memory. It was her father's study, where she and Kitty use to play while he read. Afraid to look inside, Marie brought her head down, but a startled cry snapped it back up again.
"Marie Elizabeth!"
Despite the Blob's imposing size, Marie squirmed out of his grasp and ran to great her younger sister, who was tied to a chair. Both crying and laughing, Marie swung her arms over her sister's frame and squeezed tight, kissing random spots all over her face.
"I never thought I'd see you again Katherine. I love you so much."
"Me too Marie, but they got Daddy! What's g……"
Lebeau yanked Marie back to her feet, cutting the reunion short. The younger girl wailed in confusion and desperation. Marie's eyes instantly hardened again.
"Very touching ladies, but I'm afraid this reunion is still short one very important member."
He gave Blob a look and the mammoth man stomped away. Lebeau turned to face Marie, who had slumped back down to the floor, clutching at Kitty's feet. The younger girl was in hysterics, but Marie's look was unsettling as she pet her sister. Her words still resonated in his ears and he chuckled nervously.
"Please understand my dear, this is just a means to an end. It will be over soon enough."
Knowing that if she was to take his life, she had to know why, Marie swallowed her animosity and ventured a question.
"Why?"
Lebeau plopped down to a seat opposite the girls. The oval shaped room was covered in books from floor to ceiling. It was littered with priceless paintings and statues, full of rare and priceless finds he doubted anyone could easily surpass. He smirked contemplatively.
"Ah, those that have will never understand those that don't,"
Marie raised an eyebrow almost imperceptively. Lebeau continued, shifting his beloved silver gun from hand to hand.
"I'm afraid when all is said and done, it was about the money. And who, my dear, has more money than the Xaviers?"
Kitty sniffled and ceased her crying in the background.
"Your father runs around like God on this little bit of backwards paradise, flaunting everything. Defying the crown, giving land to savages, Negroes, undeserving bastards all of them! And he never even considered those that deserved it. His own blood!"
Marie watched in fascination as Lebeau's features darkened and he leaned forward.
"Oh yes, my dear, we are practically family. I suppose daddy never told you he was married once before. Married to my mother, a countess no less."
Marie blinked in shock. Kitty started crying again. They both struggled with the realization, but the look in Lebeau's eyes confirmed that it was the truth. Marie swallowed hard. But it couldn't be true.
"That's impossible!"
"I'm afraid not chere. But don't worry we aren't actually siblings. Unfortunately my dear mother was quite the loose woman, and when he found out I wasn't his, he left us."
Lebeau paused for a moment and Marie could clearly see the pain that passed his features.
"He sent us to France again with a nice amount of silver and promptly forgot us. Forgot that we ever mattered, that I ever existed."
His eyes turned darker as he continued. The grin returned.
"Of course by then he had your mother to keep him busy. And his righteous little dream. Ha!! A slave even. That was truly priceless. I knew right there he would pay. For cheating me out of my rightful name! For raising two spoiled little girls as queens in my place. That's why I changed my name and worked all those years in his London offices to make a reputation for myself. I did it to get to you, my dear."
The grin was now a sneer, and Marie clutched at Kitty tighter for comfort. A horrible thought occurred to her. She wanted to ask, but she knew that her sister could not take it. But Lebeau saw the question in her eyes and answered it for her.
"No, I had nothing to do with that. But I can't say I wasn't thrilled. It's refreshing to know people still understand that a Negro has no place among civilized people."
Marie burned in hatred.
"Her blood runs in me."
Lebeau paused at that thoughtfully.
"Yes, that is unfortunate, but it will not matter. You make a beautiful bride Marie Elizabeth and you will be mine. And so will the money of course."
Remembering the dull ache in his groin he leaned even further in his seat, running a finger slowly down her tearstained face. Marie actually felt Kitty tighten and shrink back, but she stood stock still, knowing his finger still rested on the trigger.
"I watched you for years Marie Elizabeth, bidding for my time patiently. It was actually easy once I could court you. You were such a sweet shy thing."
His features hardened again and he tightened his fingers on her chin, making the skin under his gloved fingers white under the pressure.
"Until the savage of course. I hired Creed to retrieve you, make this whole thing easier, but no, he had to intervene."
Marie could practically hear Kitty blinking in confusion. Feeling her heart ache, she swallowed again and wondered idly if Logan would be alive had he not gotten caught up in Lebeau's scheming. Had he not gone into the ocean after her. Tears threatening once again, Marie thought of the suede strap tucked into her waist, next to their child.
"You're insane."
"Perhaps, but when we sail away from this port with everything, it won't matter will it?"
He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. Marie didn't move an inch but she couldn't hold back her tears any longer. They slid down her face and Kitty silenced instantly. A slow grin spread across Lebeau's face when he pulled back. He knew Marie would be cooperative around the other one. Lebeau let go of her face and stood up just as the doors to the study opened. He would finish later, there were many things to be done. All three pairs of eyes looked over. Marie's mouth fell open. After almost two years, her eyes finally met her father's, and what she saw made her cringe.
Summer's party rode hard past the slightly curious sailors busily loading and unloading on the dock. Having heard what McCoy and the others knew, he figured there was no way Lebeau would stay in Puerto Nuevo for long. He had not leaked his plans to anyone, but it was Summer's job to be aware of what was going on in the wharves and there had been suspicious activity of late.
Making a quick calculation, he figured Lebeau would be reaching the Xavier mansion soon, perhaps under a half hour. They had to move quick. Dismounting and leaving their horses tied, he signaled for Bishop, Cable and McCoy to flank him. Bobby stood close behind, carrying the gunpowder with two readied rifles. Before them loomed the Hispaniola.
It was a small ship, built for speed rather than cargo room, but it had troubled Summers. Lebeau had arrived from London on it and the crew of twenty were mostly strangers to him. They had kept to themselves mostly, but looked unsavory nonetheless. They had taken to drinking and brawling and several times overstepped bounds with the local women. He had been desperate to catch them doing something illegal so that he could demand that they leave Puerto Nuevo, but they had kept low and looking up at the bright noonday sun, Summers admitted to himself that this rescue operation wasn't as well thought out as it could have been.
On his signal, Cable and Bishop moved forward up the ramp on either side just shy of the deck rail. Crouching low, Cable signaled three fingers. Giving an okay, Summers, McCoy and Bobby moved up after them, while the two men took care of the three men up on deck. By the time he had climbed over the railing, they were already bound and gagged. Taken a little aback at how quickly the two had rendered the men unconscious, Summers gave the signal to move ahead once again. The five advanced, making a bee-line to the deck hatch. Hearing voices approach just as he was about to lift it, Cable gave a signal and Summers and McCoy cocked their guns. When the hatch swung open, the two sailors walked right into the weapons. Summers spoke in a tone neither men had ever herd before.
"Where are they?"
The two stare at him dumbly before the one known as Quicksilver went for the knife at his side. Cable was faster though and launched his into the man's hand before he could make for his weapon. He fell screaming and bleeding to the ground.
"I repeat, where are they?"
The second man pointed down below.
"In the galley."
His statement was rewarded by a blow to the head by Bishop's rifle. Summers raised an eyebrow at the inherent brutality, but had to admire how quick they moved. In no time, Cable and Bishop were tying the two men up and Bobby was holding the hatch open. Taking a good look around, McCoy descended first. Summers followed with a grin. They were crude, but these men worked well together. They had yet to say a word to each other since dismounting their horses and yet they were already hot on the trail, deep in the ship's bowels.
Following the same flanking, defensive formation through the Hispanola's dark corridors down below, the five men moved silently. The infiltration was going smoothly and they were almost at the galley when a yell and a shot rang out. Looking back in time to catch Bishop firing at a shiphand behind them, Summers cursed under his breath. He could hear rather than see more men approaching now that their cover was blown.
"McCoy, Bishop, fend them off! Cable come with me."
Grabbing the extra rifle that Bobby shoved at him, Summers briefly wondered why he had dragged the boy into the fray to begin with. But watching him quickly hand Bishop and McCoy readied rifles as bullets began to tare the small confined space, he gritted his teeth and followed after Cable. The skipper stopped short at the galley doors. They could make footsteps running inside, and quickly ducked into either side of the doorframe.
Two sailors came charging out of the galley only seconds later with revolvers drawn, no doubt having heard the gunfire down the hall. Putting them down effortlessly, both Cable and Summers peered into the galley before running in. It was hard to tell in the dark mess hall, but there were about eight men inside. The smell of blood, ale and sweat immediately hit them, and Summers could faintly see the outline of two bodies hanging in the far side of the room in the haze of smoke that the gunfire already produced.
Preferring his saber over a revolver, Cable withdrew his blade and was otherwise busy with a tall cutthroat by the door. Summers downed a second man first thing when he walked in, but being good for only one shot, he dropped to crouch behind a long wooden table. Readying a revolver again, Summers waited for a pause in the shots fired at him to leap to a second table. Catching one man in the chest, he raised his gun at the other man, but the unreliable weapon jammed and he caught a bullet in the leg from him instead. In his peripheral vision, he saw Cable cleaving a third man through the chest with his sword, but he knew they were outnumbered.
Crawling over to an overturned table he readied his gun again. The one who shot him ran over expecting to see him dead, but Summers surprised him immensely by shooting him in the neck. Feeling his stomach turn at the way his blood splattered over his boots, Summers kicked at the body and looked over at Cable embroiled in a life and death struggle with someone else. Knowing that he only one shot left, he tried to steady his hand with his one good eye, but the two were moving too fast in the hazy, burning smoke. Trying hard to give Cable a fighting chance, he failed to notice the man in the dirty brown boots approaching behind him or the loud crash on the far side of the room.
Luckily, Logan had noticed the man in the brown boots. In the wake of the battle being played out before him, and the kicks St. John was giving him, he blinked and looked up. It was an odd situation because he was hanging by his tied hands from a beam in the ceiling. He was gagged and hurt all over, but nothing throbbed more than his head. In the darkness that swirled in it, he could make out Cable wrestling with someone, and the one they called Cyclops, getting shot. And then he remembered Marie. She was in danger. Lebeau had her and he was going to split the man open from groin to sternum to watch him bleed slowly for ever having touched her. With a grunt, he yanked at his binds. Useless.
Giving St. John next to him, a glare, Logan sent a silent message he hoped the younger man would understand. St. John stopped kicking him and shook his head in understanding. On his third blink, the two used the wall behind them to brace up and then pull down on the beam with all their might. It budged an inch and trying again with all their combined strength, Logan and St. John managed to splinter the wooden beam and bring it crashing down on the fourth try.
Debris raining down on them both, Logan staggered to his feet. His arms felt heavy and tingly from being suspended for so long, but he moved quick. Spitting out his gag, he grabbed Cable's blade that was stuck in someone's chest by his feet and swung it over his head. The short but sharp blade hit it's intended target smack between the shoulder blades. Toad yelled out in pain and twisted his body to reach to it, but Logan was an expert knife thrower and it had crossed seven metres and still managed to penetrate him to the handle. The man in the dirty brown boots that Summers had failed to see, landed with a thud before him.
Taking the element of surprise, Cable brought his struggle to a finish also. He looked over with a heaving grin at Logan before running out the room to see about McCoy, Bishop and Bobby. Summers staggered to his feet just as Logan reached him. With a grunt he saw him take the knife from the dead man's back, flip it around to cut his restraints and wipe it on his ripped pant leg before sliding it into the small of his back. St. John was already out of his binds, and looking terribly worse for wear, moved forward in the smoke. Summers stared at both, obviously beaten and bruised. Logan was the first to speak through clenched teeth.
"Where is she?"
Summers loosened his neck tie to wrap around his leg. St. John immediately went to his side to steady him. He looked at the imposing figure of the man he had on more than one occasion cited for illegal silver fighting in the warehouses. His eyes and posture spoke of controlled rage, but strangely, his eyes spoke only of pain.
"We have little time. Let's get the others. I'll tell you along the way."
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