Marie stands up from the makeshift triage tent they established as the Blackbird touches down in a cloud of dust. Mr. Summers, suited up for combat in his form-fitting leather, is the first one off the plane. He’s followed closely by Ms. Grey, Emma, Dr. McCoy, Ms. Munroe, and the Professor himself, all dressed in a similar manner. Emma hurries over to them, holding Marie by the shoulders she checks her for any signs of injury. “Are you girls alright?”
“Yeah, we’re fine.” She smiles at Emma, then hugs her tight. Ms. Grey and Dr. McCoy start unpacking their medical kit and begin to give the wounded much-needed treatment. “Jubes and Kitty are taking one last look around.”
“You did very well setting up the triage tent,” Dr. McCoy compliments her with a smile. He is already starting burn treatment on the few soldiers Marie marked for immediate care.
Marie feels a surge of pride to have such an accomplished medical professional praise her. She smiles shyly and glances at her friends who are just exiting a partially burnt tent. “Thank you, it was a team effort.”
“You took the initiative and the lead,” Dr. McCoy said has he applied disinfectant spray to a patch of burnt flesh. “I would not discount your own contributions, young lady.”
The rest of the group soon reaches her, and he gives Marie a relieved smile. Mr. Summers and Ms. Munroe seem to be more relaxed after having patrolled the camp and walk a few steps behind the Professor. The Professor calls out in a deep, accented voice, “What happened here? Is Jimmy alright?”
Marie feels another wave of sadness and regret surging through her at the reminder. She looks away towards the still burning husk of the cargo plane and shakes her head. Scott’s eyes widen slightly and his jaw tightens as he walks up to Marie and confirms with an even tone. “He is dead.”
Marie nods and averts eye contact with him, finally feeling her eyes burning. Scott looks back and forth between the remains of the plane and her before kicking the nearest object to him. “Damn it!”
The box skips along the ground a few feet before stopping, and Marie’s eyes snap back up towards Mr. Summers. She has never seen him like this before, Scott is always calm and collected under pressure. Before she can collect her thoughts Mr. Summers speaks once again in a frustrated tone, “What happened here?”
Jubes and Kitty return just then, the girls look back and forth between each other before silently agreeing to let Marie speak for them all. “We tried to follow Jimmy’s kidnappers but just as we were about to reach them we hit a suppression field and I lost control of the van. When we arrived here, the plane was already taking off, then we heard gunshots...”
Marie’s voice trails off, the results of said gunshots is self-evident. Scott runs his hand through his hair before clenching it into a fist, “Did you at least see who did this?”
Despite her outward appearance, Marie’s heart practically leaps out of her chest. She is not sure how to respond; she wants to tell the Professor the truth, at least what she is almost certain of, that Logan is the one that pulled the trigger. She also knows this would only exacerbate the tensions between them. As much as she loathes it, she is willing to resort to a technicality to keep things cordial. Just like she remembers from her memories, she lets the turmoil of her mind surface, and clutches herself around her waist, shaking her head slowly, “No it was dark and sound far off…”
“Scott, that is enough! Ms. Adler did her best given the situation, especially considering that as a student none of this is her responsibility.” The Professor’s voice cuts through the conversation. “You all are too young to remember but in my younger years when it was a more desperate time, this kind of situation not only happened often but was sometimes inevitable.”
Marie stares at the Professor in surprise, both at the harshness of the Professor’s rebuke and at what he just revealed about his past. The Professor holds Mr. Summers’ gaze while continuing to speak, “The entire school faculty shares the blame for this unfortunate situation.”
While Marie is glad that the Professor is personally speaking on her behalf, she knows there is a more practical reason for him to come to her defense so quickly. She snaps back to reality to hear the regret in the Professor’s voice, “I bear the greatest responsibility of all of us, I should not have underestimated their tenacity.”
“Sir, you can’t take the blame for the death of-” Scott tries to argue his point of view.
But the Professor would have none of it. “Leech was our responsibility, Scott. Had our security been better, this incident could have been avoided. Now what is done is done, we must consider the aftermath.”
“Yes, the aftermath.” Mr. Summers nods stone-faced, as one of the faculty responsible for security Marie can see that he takes the comment particularly hard. Ms. Grey walks but behind him and grabs hold of his hand, they lean into each other for comfort. Marie turns to Emma and leans her head against her shoulder.
“All that needs to be said is that young Jimmy was lost during the recovery attempt. We will arrange for a proper funeral in the coming days.” The Professor runs a tense hand through his hair, “Scott you will lead a review of our security protocol and identify the flaw that allowed this to happen. And you will remain here to organize the cleanup.”
“Yes, Professor.” Mr. Summers starts walking towards the tent Marie and the girls set up with Dr. McCoy and Ms. Grey. One by one the other X-Men file into the Blackbird. Eventually, Marie lets Emma pull her along as well, she gives the remains of the plane one last look and a silent prayer for Jimmy.
The Professor is the last one to get on the plane as the engines of the Blackbird spin to life. Marie lays her head on Emma's shoulder and closes her eyes and takes a moment to herself before all the questions that are sure to come.
The room is surprisingly cold considering it is still the tail end of summer. Marie is glad she’s had a chance to nap on the flight back. Since her return to the mansion, they stuck her in this room, waiting for whatever it is that is supposed to happen here. She rests her head on her hand and taps on the desk with the other. The door suddenly slides open and to her surprise, a regal looking Magneto walks in. “Ms. Adler.”
“You are here to debrief me, sir?” Marie looks at Magneto wide-eyed. She had been expecting a debriefing just not from him, Magneto. He is the very last person she would want to debrief her.
Unfortunately, with the Professor and pretty much everyone else who could do a debriefing is probably getting debriefed themselves, he is the only person available to do a debrief on such short notice. She watches as he stops across from her, his arms folded neatly behind him, regarding her with a cool yet intense gaze.
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Magneto walks around the table and stands behind her. “First though I would like to give you my condolences, I heard that you and Jimmy were close.”
“Yes…Sir” There is an underlying tone of disdain when he speaks of Jimmy. Before she can decipher it further, Marie shudders at the feeling of his hand upon her shoulder. It is so rare for anyone to voluntarily touch her, it is just, unfortunately, the person is Magneto right now. She pushes his hand off of her and shifts further away from him on her seat. She feels a presence pressing against her mind from within. “But I… I would rather not talk about that, sir.”
“I understand your reluctance to talk about this and under any other circumstance I would not press you.” Magneto smiles down at her, a warm yet twisted smile. He walks back over to his side of the table and finally sits down. He links his hands on the table in front of him, his icy gaze lingering on her. “But I am afraid it is essential we discuss your relationship with him.”
“There is nothing to talk about, sir.” Marie pulls her arms off the table and folds her them in her lap. Looking away from Magneto’s piercing glare, she fights the rising strife in her mind. His thoughts have been increasing in strength recently ever since her most recent absorption. With him so close it is difficult to tell them apart.
“Ms. Adler, your relationship with Leech will be a critical component of the school’s response to this tragedy I must-” The metal door to the foreboding room slides open. Marie first spots Sage and then sighs in relief when her momma steps into the room.
Irene dismisses her aide with a nod but continues to keep the door open. “Erik, I need to speak to my daughter alone.”
Magneto stiffens slightly and tries to reason with Irene, “Irene, I should be-”
But she refuses to budge. “This has been a very traumatic incident, Erik, I’m sure you understand that at times like this I would have some privacy with my daughter.”
Irene waits expectantly at the door, and finally, after some time, Magneto shakes his head and smiles. He stands up and straightens his clothes before nodding to Marie, “Yes… of course, if you will excuse me.”
Marie stares at Magento’s back as he exits the room, she waits for a full minute for moving. Sobbing, Marie leaps from her chair and rushes into Irene’s wide arms, mindful of any skin on skin contact. “Momma…”
After holding each other for some time, Irene speaks first, “Marie, are you well, they didn’t hurt you did they?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” Marie buries her face against Irene, as more sobs convulse through her body. “But Jimmy… he...”
“I know honey, I know.” Irene shushes Marie gently and rubs a hand along her back. Kissing Marie on the top her head, Irene whispers to her, “Is it true? About you and Jimmy.”
Marie pulls back slightly and wipes her eyes, “No momma, we are just friends.”
“Yes, I thought as much...” She can feel momma sighing with a bit of relief before Irene’s voice turns more serious “But for the rest of the world, we need to say it is different, do you understand, Marie?”
“What?” Marie find her mother’s request puzzling. “Why would I need to lie about that?”
“A young couple separated by an act of terrorism will play much better on TV than the alternative true or not.” It quickly dawns on Marie that her momma is working on ways to control this narrative. Finding ways to spin the whole disaster to her advantage, with the election season in full swing Marie should not have found it surprising.
Even if she was expecting it, it feels wrong to Marie to lie about her relationship to Jimmy. Making it out to be far more than what it actually was, doubly so because she herself never made it clear to Jimmy why she was lying, that she didn’t actually have any romantic interest in him. “But!”
“Marie… women like us have responsibilities.” Her momma squeezes her shoulder, and Marie hears words familiar in meaning if not in content. Above everything else, the obligation to her family always comes first. “You are going to inherit vast amounts of them from me very soon. Tens of thousands of people will rely on you to keep a calm, level head, and make the most logical decisions. Understand?”
“Yes, momma. I just-” Marie knew that her objection would not have mattered. Her duties as an Adler is something that has been drilled into her since she was young, and she knows there is no escape from it. “Never mind.”
“I am glad you understand.” Irene sits down on one of the wooden chairs, while Marie places another chair by her side. Irene reaches out placing her hand over Marie’s, “While we are on the subject of romance, there is another matter I would like to speak to you about.”
“What is it?” Marie’s mind races through the possibilities, and she comes to the conclusion that it can only be about the two suitors that suddenly appeared in her life. “Is it about Warren? Or Magneto?”
“Mr. Worthington II has already spoken to me about that, and even though it took me by surprise Erik’s interests make good sense politically,” Irene replies calmly. It does not surprise Marie that her mother would be on top of this. Sometimes though this practical side to her mother is very hard to handle. It is as if she is just some piece in a game of a vast scale that Marie has just begin to glimpse.
“Momma! I- I don’t-” A part of Marie agrees with her momma’s analysis, she herself long ago came to a similar conclusion. But another part of her could not hold back her distress at the thought of a marriage to Magneto, of all people, “Magneto, he makes me uncomfortable.”
Irene squeezes Marie’s hand reassuringly, “Then when he made the suggestion, it wasn’t the first time he has made his interest known?”
“No,” Marie shakes her head. “But I didn’t think he meant it like that…”
“I see.” Her momma is silent for a moment, and Marie wishes she could explain herself better and would have loved to know what Irene is thinking about at that moment. A short minute later Irene smiles, “I’ll keep that revelation in mind. Let’s discuss something else then, a certain Mr. Howlett?”
“Logan?” Marie is certain she did a great job hiding her blossoming feelings for Logan. Enough that even her best friends are clueless about him. Then again, her momma has always been unusually intuitive when it comes to her feelings. “What about him?”
A measure of amusement slips into her momma’s voice, “I hear he is very handsome.”
“Momma! We are just -” Marie’s denial fades from her lips when she sees her momma’s knowing smile widen.
Even though she cut Marie off, concern seeps into Irene’s voice. “Marie, I might not know what he thinks of you, but it is obvious to me what you feel for him.”
“Fine, okay Logan is really... is really...” Her face warms at the implication, and she catches herself just in time before she can embarrass herself further, “And what is wrong with me lo-liking him?”
“Marie, dear. There is a great deal to gain for any man lucky enough to catch your eye.” Irene pulls Marie close by her shoulders, “So you need to be especially discerning when it comes to companionship. Mr. Howlett is just a common thug, and no matter how attractive he brings neither financial or political benefits to the relationship.”
“There is more to Logan than that!” Marie is not sure if it is wise to admit even that much, but she if she can’t speak to her momma about these kinds of thing who can she speak to?
Irene smiles knowingly. “I’m not saying you can’t distract yourself with him, or men like him. This day and age men are less picky about having a virgin bride, and that’s before considering everything else you have to offer.”
Then her hand tightens around Marie’s and her voice turns, “But those men must remain just that, distractions, discrete ones, especially now that you have respectable suitors. The last thing we need right now is the tabloid going crazy about your love life.”
“So I should just ignore my… feelings and marry Warren or Magneto and be a dutiful and obedient wife?”
“I would never force you to do that,” Marie squeezes her mother’s hand. She knew her comment was unfair, her mother suffered under an arranged marriage and Marie knows she will never be forced into one, at least not by her mother. Irene relaxes a bit then continues, “But... having said that Warren is a nice boy.”
“Momma,” Marie sighs, glad that the small bit of tension between them is passing. “I think you just said all there is to say about Warren.”
“Oh, Marie.” Irene laughs out loud, “We are discussing potential husbands, not the love of your life.”
Marie tries to respond, but the mere thought of Logan as the love of her life seem to render her speechless.
Logan glances at the rough looking men sitting with him around a cheap plastic table littered with empty bottles and cigarette butts. The room is dark and smoky, even still he can clearly see the dozen or so men gathered here on Logan’s order. Over half of them are the commanders of his mercenaries, the remaining few are what remains of the Ranskahov brothers’ command structure. Those men are the most nervous looking of the bunch, for one simple reason, unlike Sergi they haven't fully bought into his takeover of the operation. After Logan’s show of force last night. Most of them must be wondering if they are still a necessary part of it.
“What’s our take from last night?” Logan asks brusquely, to no one in particular.
“Six and a half,” Sergi answers then quickly adds in a caveat to his figures. “Not including the costs.”
Logan frowns in acknowledgment, six and a half million is not a lot if considering the number of mercenaries he has on payroll. It did buy him a week or so, but he will need to find some more cash soon. “All those joints and that’s all?”
“I think he expected us to attack, moved most of the money.” One of the old hands remarks with a shrug of his shoulders.
Logan frowns but then Birdy voice pipes up in his ear, “Fisk regularly transfers his money offshore. You're not going to catch more than that wrecking his operations. What you need is hitting someone that deals mainly in cash.”
He nods, Birdy is making good sense. Fisk pretends to be a legitimate businessman and has enough shell companies to launder all the money he makes. Logan needs to strike at a source of his wealth. “Then we need to hit harder, the suicide bombers were from the Chinese right? Get me a list of their sites.”
It is the dark of the night, in a bad part of the town, and Erik can’t believe he is standing out in the back alley dressed like some common criminal. But to get his plans into motion and on schedule, he needs the second half of his initial shipment. At least he will wrap up his dealing with Cornelius for good tonight. If their dealings are revealed, it could give his nascent political party a mortal wound.
The incompetent old man finally shows with a few large men, as shifty and nervous as he always is. Erik walks up to him, his fingers tightening around the briefcase he is holding. The majority of his remaining wealth is contained inside. He is here only because he is desperate and making a final gamble for relevance in an increasingly changing world. If he is successful, he will again be at the forefront of the mutant struggle, fail and his Brotherhood would just be a short footnote in the history books.
He shakes away the disturbing thoughts, Erik Lehnsherr is no one’s footnote. Stopping a few feet from Cornelius and his goods, Erik sneers at the old scientist, “Do you have it?”
“Yes, yes.” Cornelius waves him off impatiently, and one of his men delivers a small case into his hands, and takes away the briefcase of cash. Erik’s eyes narrow as the last of his cash reserve is taken away. Tearing his eye from his money Erik checks the content of his package and some relief fills him. It is barely enough to do what he wants, but he can make do.
Cornelius checks the briefcase and fingers the stacks of bills inside. “This is it, there will be no more. My superiors are becoming suspicious. And the botched deal you arranged certainly didn’t help the supply crunch.”
Erik narrows his eyes and watches the old man leave with undisguised disgust. He would like nothing more than to squeeze the life out of that old bag of bones, slowly. But he can't afford to be distracted, his organization is now officially out of money, if his plan doesn’t succeed he will be bankrupt by the end of next month. He needs to stay focused on this, one of the great gambles of his life. Lifting himself up, Erik disappears into the night, deep in thought of what is to come.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
Big thank you to cschoolgirl for her awesome work as beta
Chapter End Notes:
Up next Logan finds a lead.