Act IV
1.
That same night...
Logan sat at a table in a dark corner of the bar, watching. Jubilee brought over a bottle of bourbon and a glass. Taking the cigar out of his mouth, he rumbled, "Thanks, Jubes."
"You're getting to be your own best customer, Wolvie," she scolded. He snorted and she walked away.
Gambit wandered over. "Well, Logan, look at you. Beginnin' to live life like a Frenchman. Remy be proud to know you."
Logan frowned. "That was some going-over you guys gave my place this afternoon. We just barely got it cleaned up in time to open."
He poured out two fingers of bourbon for the Cajun.
"Well, I told Hodge he wouldn't find the letters here, but I told my men to be especially destructive. It impresses men like him." He took a sip of bourbon and grimaced. "Logan, have you got the letters of transit?"
"Remy, are you pro-American or free-mutant?"
"Serves me right for asking a direct question. Forget it."
Logan's attention was caught by the couple entering the bar.
"Looks like you're too late," he said.
"Huh?" Remy said.
"Jeannie's taken up with the enemy," Logan said, nodded his head in her direction. She was with an American soldier.
Remy smiled ruefully. "Who knows? In her own way, she may constitute an entire second front." He sighed. "I think it's time for me to flatter Hodge for a little while. See you later, Logan." He got up and strolled away.
Jean and her soldier boy were at the bar. She was already a little tipsy. "Ororo!"
"We'll have shots of tequila," the soldier said, "and two Coronas with lime."
"Put a whole row of 'em right here, 'Ro," Jean said, running her hand along the bar.
One of the local men leaned over to Jean and said, "Hey, what are you doing with that gringo asshole?"
"What are you butting in for?" Jean shot back.
"I am butting in--"
"It's none of your goddamn business, what I do, okay?" she interrupted him.
"What? What'd he say to you?" the American demanded.
"What I said is none of your business," the Mexican spat.
"It is now, motherfucker," the soldier said, swinging a fist at the Mexican, who ducked, and wasn't shy about swinging back.
"Stop! Stop it! Please, stop!" Jean shouted.
Remy and Hodge rose to see what the commotion was.
Some American soldiers sitting near by got up and walked over, just as Logan appeared and separated the two men. "Fighting is for the cage only. You got that? You wanna fight me?" The American shook his head rapidly. "Didn't think so," Logan continued, a feral grin on his face. "I don't like disturbances in my place. Either lay off politics or get out. I got no problem tossin' your ass in the street."
Everyone sat down and Hodge said, "See, LeBeau? The situation isn't as under control as you thought."
"Mr. Secretary, we're tryin' to cooperate with your government, but we can't tell the people how to feel."
Hodge's eyes narrowed. "Are you entirely certain which side you're on, Governor LeBeau?" He stressed the word "governor" and Remy grimaced.
"Remy have no conviction, if that's what you mean. I side with the winners. Right now, that's the American government."
"And if that should change?" Hodge asked with a deadly smile.
"Surely the American government doesn't admit that's a possibility?" Remy parried, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag.
"We are concerned in more ways than one about Tijuana. We know that every city in Mexico and Canada is honeycombed with traitors waiting for their chance. Waiting, perhaps, for a leader," Hodge said.
"A leader like Drake?" Remy asked casually.
"Yes. I've been thinking. At first I thought it was too dangerous to let him leave Tijuana. Now I think it may be too dangerous to let him stay."
"Remy sees what you mean, mon ami. And now, I must leave you for a while, Monsieur."
He got up and made his way to where Carl the waiter was taking action on the fights.
2.
Mrs. Crane, the albino woman from that afternoon at La Café, walked over to Logan.
"Mr. Logan?"
"Just Logan," he said, his eyes roaming her voluptuous figure appreciatively.
"We met this afternoon, briefly. I’m Nina Crane. Could I speak to you for just a second?"
"You already are." He looked at her face then. "How the hell did you get in here? You're not old enough to drink."
"I came with Monsieur LeBeau."
"He ain't French, ya know," Logan muttered.
"Excuse me?"
"I should have known," he said, a little louder.
"My husband is with me, too."
"He is? Well, well. The Gambit's getting broadminded. Sit down. Bourbon?" She shook her head. "Mind if I do?"
"No." Logan poured himself a drink. "Mr. -- Logan, what kind of man is Mr. LeBeau?"
"Oh, he's just like any other man, only more so," Logan replied.
"No, I mean," she stumbled over her words a bit, "is he trustworthy? Is his word--"
"Wait a minute. Who told you to ask me that?"
"He did," she replied, blushing. Logan watched the pale pink creep up her white skin.
"Figures. Where's your husband?"
She jerked her head toward the cage. "Trying to win enough money for our exit visas." Logan looked over at the tan-furred mutant waiting just outside the cage for his turn to get beaten by one of the local fighters in Logan's stable. Nina sighed. "Of course, he's going to lose."
Logan stared at her intently. "How long have you been married?"
"Two months. We came from Texas. Things are bad there. I don't know why we ended up here. Things are terrible back home Mr. -- I mean, Logan. We didn't want to raise our children there."
Logan sighed. "So you decided to go to Canada?" he asked wearily.
She smiled. "I wanted to go to Caracas, but Billy is set on Canada. We don't have much money, though, and traveling is so expensive and difficult. And then Mr. LeBeau has been so kind. He wants to help us."
"I'll bet," Logan muttered.
"He tells me he can get us exit visas, but we have no money," she continued.
"Does he know that?"
"Oh, yeah."
"And he's still willing to give you a visa?"
"Yes."
"And you wanna know --"
"If he'll keep his word," she finished.
Logan thought for a moment. Then, "He always has."
They were silent for a few minutes. Nina looked disturbed, and finally she blurted, "You're a man, Mr. Logan. If someone loved you very much, so much that your happiness was the only thing in the whole world that she wanted, but she did a bad thing to make certain of it, could you forgive her?"
Logan stared off into space. "Nobody ever loved me that much," he murmured.
Nina didn't hear. She continued talking. "And if he never knew, and the girl kept this bad thing locked up in her heart? That would be all right, wouldn't it?"
"You want my advice?" Logan asked harshly.
"Please."
"Go back to Texas."
She gasped. "But you must know what it means to us to escape from the persecution!" Tears welled up in her eyes. "But if Billy ever found out -- he's such a little boy in some ways. I'm so much older than him, sometimes."
"Yeah, well, life sucks, kid. Everybody's got problems. Yours may work out. Consider yourself lucky." He rose and walked away, leaving her alone at the table, too demoralized to move.
3.
He was at the bar when Bobby and Rogue walked in. "Hey."
"Here we are again," Bobby said.
"Well, I suppose Rogue never could resist a cage fight," he said.
"We'll sit at the bar," she said coolly.
"I'll go play your favorite song," he responded, walking toward the jukebox.
Ororo looked at them. "What will it be?"
"Storm!" Bobby exclaimed. "How are you?"
"I am fine, Bobby. No doubt you would like a beer?" she said, smiling.
"Yeah." He turned to Rogue. "What about you, babe?"
"Wild Turkey, neat?" Ororo asked, her smile growing strained.
Rogue inclined her head, watching Logan talk to the brute of a man who then climbed into the ring with Billy Crane.
"Tonight we have Billy Crane facing your favorite and mine - Los Vatos!" Angel announced.
The strains of "All I Want Is You" echoed through the bar as Billy Crane somehow managed to land a punch against the man facing off against him in the ring.
The crowd roared, but it was soon obvious that Los Vatos was off his game. He went down and got up twice before Crane leveled him with a punch to the jaw and then whipped him with his tail.
"Hermanos, tonight I've seen it all," Angel announced. "That was the last fight of the evening. Please come back again soon."
Crane came over to Logan, who shoved a wad of cash into his hand. "Don't come back," he said roughly.
One of the soldiers complained to Storm. "Hey, is this place honest?"
"Honest?" Storm said fervently. "As the day is long." She grinned as Nina ran up and hugged Logan.
"Thank you, Mr. Logan."
"Your husband's just a lucky guy, Mrs. Crane."
"Thank you, anyway," she said, rushing off and grabbing her husband. They cornered Remy and she said, "We'll be at your office at six tomorrow morning."
"That's nice, chere. Remy don't show up until ten. I'm very happy for you both. Still, it is trés strange that you won, non?" He looked over at Logan then, who was staring hungrily at Rogue from his dark corner. "Well, maybe not so strange. I'll see you in the morning."
"Thank you so much, Monsieur LeBeau," she said, squeezing his hand before leading her husband out into the warm Mexican night.
Ororo told Jubilee what Logan had done and the younger woman smiled brilliantly. When Logan made his way back to the bar, she called out, "Wolvie, you've done a beautiful thing," and she hugged him tight.
"Get back to work, Jubes," he grumbled good-naturedly, and Rogue watched surreptitiously as the hint of a blush stained his cheekbones.
Ororo poured him a shot of bourbon as he glanced in Rogue's direction again. Their eyes met and they both looked away quickly.
"Remy knew it. You are a romantic at heart, mon ami."
"Yeah? What makes you say that?" Logan asked.
"Why do you interfere with my little romances, Logan?"
Logan snorted. "Call it a gesture in honor of love."
"Well, I forgive you this time," Remy replied good-naturedly. "But I'll be here tomorrow with a gorgeous blonde and it will make Remy very happy if she loses." He clapped Logan on the shoulder and walked away, smiling.
4.
"So, Logan, do you have a minute?" Bobby asked, trying to turn his attention away from Rogue. He didn't like the way the man stared at her, as if she were a glass of water and he'd just returned from forty days in the desert.
"I'm listenin'."
"Isn't there someplace more -- private? I'd rather not have the whole town know what we're talking about," Bobby said.
"My office." Logan jerked his head back toward the door.
"Right." Bobby turned and pressed a kiss to Rogue's hair. "I'll be back in a few."
She smiled tightly and nodded.
Jean leaned over then, recognizing the young woman sitting three seats away from her.
"Rogue! How are you?" she exclaimed, jumping off her barstool unsteadily and leaning in for a reckless hug.
Rogue pulled away gently. "Be careful, Jean. My skin--"
"Right. I forgot." Jean laughed. "I've forgotten a lot of things, Rogue, but never the way you looked at Logan, or the way he looked at you."
"Jean--"
"Oh, you'll have him, but you'll never keep him. He wanted me for years. And now that he's had me, he's off chasing you. Don't give in, Rogue. Yeah, sure, it's a great fuck, but it's not worth it." She sniffed. "Scott would be so disappointed in me," she cried, giving Rogue another hug and burying her face in the other woman's chest, sobbing.
Rogue's eyes grew wide as she stroked Jean's hair gently. Ororo was at the other end of the bar, serving a group of fishermen, and Jubilee was nowhere to be found.
"It's okay, Jean. Scott would understand," she whispered finally. "He knew how much you loved him."
"Oh, I did, Rogue. I so did. Do. I still love him. I miss him. I hear him dying, in my head. You know what that's like, don't you? To have the man you love in your head, but not in your arms?"
"I do, Jeannie. I do," Rogue said gently.
"I knew you'd understand, Rogue. Don't let them take him away from you. Don't."
"It's okay, Jean," she whispered, brushing the redhead's tears away with a gloved thumb.
Ororo came over and put a cup of coffee on the bar. "Have some coffee, Jean," she said. Jean sipped quietly at the mug. The weather goddess turned to Rogue. "Thank you."
Rogue shrugged. "Anyone would have done it, 'Ro." She hesitated before asking, "Is she like this all the time?"
Storm sighed. "Usually, she's much better after she cries."
5.
Bobby and Logan sat in Logan's office.
"You know how important it is for me to get out of Tijuana, Logan. You know what I've been doing. Without the Professor, without Scott, I've been lucky to become one of the leaders of our cause. You know what it means to the work, to the lives of thousands of people, that I be able to reach Canada and continue my work," Bobby said passionately.
"I'm not interested in politics, kid. The problems of the world ain't my department. I'm just a saloon-keeper," Logan returned, lighting a cigar. He offered one to the younger man, who shook his head.
"I know you worked for the Professor, even though you never came back. I know you gave him tips on mutants in need of help, even showed up and rescued Scott and Storm once in a while. And I know what you were doing in San Francisco, Logan, so don't give me that 'I don't care' bullshit."
"What of it?" Logan snarled.
"It's strange how you always happen to wind up fighting on the side of the underdog, isn't it?"
"Yeah. It's a very expensive hobby, too. But then, I never was much of a businessman." He stood, and Bobby stood with him.
"Are you enough of a businessman to appreciate an offer of one hundred thousand dollars?" Bobby asked.
"I appreciate it, but I don't accept it," Logan said.
"I'll make it two hundred thousand," Bobby offered.
"Look, Snowflake, you could make it a million dollars, three million even, and my answer would still be the same."
"There must be some reason you won't let me have them," Bobby said.
"There is. Ask your wife."
"Excuse me?"
"I said, ask your wife."
"My wife?" Bobby repeated it, puzzled.
"Yeah."
Bobby laughed, then, bitterly. "This is about you wanting Rogue and Rogue being with me?" He shook his head in disbelief. "You abandon her for four fucking years, and then you get upset that she moved on?"
"Shut up, kid."
"No, I don't think so." Bobby was working up a head of steam now. "I was there, Logan. I saw her waiting for you every day. I held her when she cried because there was no letter, no phone call for weeks at a time."
He was up in Logan's face now. Logan was so tense Bobby swore he could hear the metal in the man's body grinding from the strain.
"I said, shut up, Drake."
Bobby overrode him. "I comforted her every Christmas while you were off doing God knows what -- or who -- because every year she only wanted one thing, and she never, ever got it. So, don't play it like this, Logan. Do the right thing for once in your sorry fucking life and sell me the papers. Not for me, not for the cause, but for her. Do something for Rogue for once, why don't you?"
"The only reason I haven't gutted you is because of her, bub--" Logan began when the sound of men singing interrupted.
He flung the door open to see a group of American officers surrounding the jukebox singing "We Will Rock You."
Remy sat at the end of the bar; catching Logan's eye, he raised an eyebrow.
Bobby's lips tightened and he pushed past Logan and walked toward the bar. "Jubes, you control the volume?" She nodded. "And you've got a stereo back there?" Another nod. "Let me see what CDs you have." She handed them over the bar and he rifled through them quickly before settling on one. "Put it on. Track eighteen." He'd known Storm would have something fitting, but he'd never have guessed how perfect it would be.
Jubilee shot a glance at Logan, who nodded once. She put the CD in and lowered the volume on the jukebox. The soldiers sang louder, angrily, to compensate for the loss of their anthem.
The sound of Mahalia Jackson's voice singing "We Shall Overcome" filled Sam's and Bobby sang along with it. Other people began standing and singing the simple hymn as well. Jean stood, tears in her eyes again, clutching her coffee mug and adding her voice to the song.
The soldiers raised their voices in a vain attempt to drown out the singing, but they were unsuccessful. One by one, they sat down, disheartened and silent. Hodge looked over at Remy angrily.
After the first chorus, everyone in the place was on their feet, singing fervently of the day when peace and freedom would reign again.
Rogue watched her husband intently, eyes shining with unshed tears, her heart swelling with pride at all that he'd become. Logan watched Rogue.
Finally, the song was over. Jean raised her mug above her head and shouted, "Give us liberty or give us death!"
The crowd took up the cheer, causing Hodge's face to become even more pinched. He strode over to Remy and snapped, "You see what I mean? If Drake's presence in a tavern can inspire this sort of unfortunate demonstration, what more will his presence in Tijuana bring on?" He slapped a hand down on the bar. "I suggest you shut this place down at once."
Remy looked at him, surprised. "But everyone's havin' such a good time. Laissez les bons temps rouler!"
"Yes," Hodge ground out, "much too good a time. The place is to be closed."
"I have no excuse to close it," Remy argued.
"Find one," Hodge snapped.
The men who worked for Logan, meanwhile, had surrounded Bobby and were offering to buy him drinks. Mutants far outnumbered "normal" people at Sam's.
Remy watched, eyes narrowed. Then he let out a shrill whistle. "Everybody is to leave immediately. Sam's is closed until further notice! Clear the room at once!"
The crowd murmured angrily but, eyeing the American soldiers' hands fondling their guns, they began to leave without protest.
Logan was across the bar in a flash. He grabbed Remy by his lapels. "What the hell are ya doin', Gumbo? How can you close me up? On what grounds?"
"I am shocked, shocked to find that there is gambling going on in here," Remy exclaimed.
Logan's jaw dropped. He couldn't think of a response to Gambit's brazen lie. He let go of the Cajun, as Carl the waiter walked over and handed Remy a roll of bills.
"Your winnings, sir."
"Oh. Merci." Then he turned back to the crowd. "Everybody out!"
As people filed out into the street, Hodge walked over to Rogue.
"Miss --"
"Rogue," she supplied.
"Miss Rogue, after this disturbance, you can see that it is not safe for Drake to stay in Tijuana."
"This morning you implied it wasn't safe for him to leave Tijuana. Make up your mind, sugar."
"That's true, too. Except for one destination. He should return to Washington, DC," he told her.
"DC?"
"Yes. Under safe conduct from me."
Rogue sucked in a breath. "What good is that? We've seen first-hand what your guarantees are worth, Mr. Hodge," she said intensely.
"There are only two other alternatives."
"Which are?"
"It is possible the Mexican authorities will find a reason to relocate him to an internment camp in California."
Rogue's eyes narrowed and she fought the temptation to hit him. He was, after all, the Secretary of Defense of the United States of America. "And the other alternative?" she asked, her voice steely.
"My dear girl, perhaps you've already seen how cheap mutant life is in Tijuana." He inclined his head and said, "Good night, Miss Rogue."
Her fists were clenched when Bobby returned to the bar. "Let's go," he said curtly.
"What happened with Logan?" she asked as they left.
"We'll discuss it later."
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