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1X11 – Pinnacle – Act III
“Azazel?” Carol ran the name in her mind, “I’m not familiar with him. Is he Brotherhood?”
“Independent Contractor,” Logan growled out the words, “a teleporter who fancies himself as some kind of mystical demon or other kind of hogwash.”
“Great,” she shook her head as she pulled out her sat phone again, “anyone could have hired him.”
She dialed the number did before and after one ring the man came back over the phone, “Yes, Captain Danvers?”
“Upon inspection of Victor Oscar Lima,” she tried hard not to grimace, “I’ve discovered an Empty Quiver.”
There was a significant pause before the man said, “Understood.”
The man hung up and Carol’s mind was running a mile a minute, “Somehow they crashed the plane, used a teleporter to get in and out avoiding the weather, this gives them a lead time of,” she checked her watch, “twelve hours, give-take?”
“Let me borrow that,” Logan pointed to the phone and she easily handed it over, “we both agree that letting the military know a mutant stole these might not be in everyone’s best interest.”
“There’s protocols for these kinds of situations,” she pointed out though she didn’t quite want to disagree with him.
“We’ll have a better chance of catching Azazel ourselves, you know that,” he started punching in numbers, “let the military do their thing but leave him to us, we find out who he’s working for, and maybe we can keep this from turning into another episode of the Mutant Blame Game.”
“I always hate it when you’re right,” she said wryly.
“Chuck,” Logan said into the phone, “we have a situation, I need you to get on Cerebro and find Azazel,” there was a short pause, “yeah, that Azazel. He’s never not teleporting everywhere, just give me his last known location, I can do the rest. Call me back on this number, thanks.”
“When I said ‘just like old times’,” Carol sighed, “this wasn’t what I meant.”
…
“Alright,” JP walked up to Jean as she was checking some samples in the lab, “I adjusted the sensors in Training Room One, good news, you can light a bonfire in there and the sprinkler system won’t go off, bad news,” he paused for effect, “you light a bonfire in there and the sprinklers won’t go off.”
“That’s why we’ll have Bobby,” she nodded, “thanks for doing that.”
“Not a problem,” he nodded and went to turn away.
“Jean-Paul,” she stopped him, “can I ask you something?”
“Shoot,” he crossed his arms as he awaited the question.
“Everyone has talked about what they saw last week,” she tried not to frown at him, “but not you.”
“Oh, how is Danielle doing?” he almost too easily deflected, “she went back to Colorado, right?”
“Her parents thought it best that she recovered from her kidnapping at home,” Jean told him, playing along for the moment, “I am inclined to agree. We gave her a few lessons in shielding before she went but I believe she’ll be a new student next year.”
“The girl could use some rest and recovery, I hope she gets to feeling better,” he nodded and started to leave again, this time at super speed but Jean held the door tight with her telekinesis.
“Nice try,” she told him when he turned around and gave her a rather perturbed look, “and I know it’s not easy talking about these things, you think I want to admit that it scares me to know I’m the only known confirmed case of both telepathy and telekinesis existing in the same person at the same time, other than David, who couldn’t control it?”
“At least that’s legit,” the man pointed out, “and it’s not selfish.”
“Selfish?” Jean frowned, “is that what yours was what about? JP, you’re one of the least selfish people I know, what you did for your sister—”
“After everything she did for me,” he gave a sorrowful laugh, “she wouldn’t even be in this mess if not for me, she could be living a happy, normal, life right now if she hadn’t made sacrifices for me.”
“I would have done the same for my sister,” Jean pointed out, “and she in turn for me, it’s what siblings do. She made a sacrifice for you, you made one for her.”
“So why was it when my fears got drug up it didn’t take the form of Jeannie-Marie?” he asked her with a bit of an edge to his voice, “that my biggest fear or regret wasn’t that I failed her? Instead I get… I get Kyle.”
“You’ve never mentioned a Kyle before,” that she could remember and she was usually pretty good with names.
“Kyle…” he took a slow breath as it became obviously painful for him to say the name, “Kyle is the smartest, kindest, cleverest, most handsome man you could ever hope to meet, but when I had to get Jeannie-Marie out of Department H, I had to leave him behind for his own protection,” his head dropped a bit and she wondered if he was trying not to cry, “the two people I love most and I had to choose between them.”
“I’m sorry you had to do that,” she told him softly, “but that doesn’t make you selfish.”
“Doesn’t it?” he nearly laughed, “my fear was Kyle berating me for leaving him behind. Not my sister pointing out how I failed her. Not my homophobic parents. No, apparently my own happiness trumps all of that, it’s selfish.”
“No,” she shook her head, “you recently went through what happened with your sister, that pain is at the surface, not buried deep, not like with Kyle. You saw him because you haven’t been able to deal with that loss because that is what it is, the loss of a love one and that kind of grief is not selfish.”
“Have you ever lost someone you were close to?” he asked her.
“A loved one?” she stumbled as she realized, “No, I’ve been fairly lucky, I know that.”
“Then trust me, it’s selfish,” JP told her with a hint of sadness, “no matter how you try to play it off, no matter how many times I tell myself it was in his best interest, it all comes down to the fact that I will never see him again and how much it hurts me.”
“But you recognize this,” she pointed out, “and how much it hurts him too.”
“Jean,” he shook his head at her, “while that may be true, it’s a very very small comfort.”
…
“Thanks for putting on the jacket,” Carol said to Ororo who was standing in a bulky Air Force coat with her and Logan outside as the recovery crew were now crawling all over the downed plane, “I doubt many of these guys would get how we wouldn’t get frost bite out here.”
“I understand,” the woman nodded, her white hair blowing in the light breeze, “I’ve diverted much of the front that was causing the snow fall, I do not think it will be an issue for those in its path.”
“Good, thank you,” Carol nodded then one of the lieutenants walked up to the group.
“Captain Danvers,” he said and then he looked between the short feral man and the tall exotic woman.
“They have clearance, Lieutenant,” she told him, “what did you find?”
“We’ll be removing the body shortly but the first thing we noticed is that the black box is missing,” he said after a moment’s hesitation, “and it looked like some of the control panel had been disconnected, I’m guessing they put something in there to shut down the board, get it to crash.”
“If they had such access to the plane,” Ororo questioned, “then why not steal the warheads directly?”
“Getting access to the plane is a hell of a lot easier than getting access to the weapon storage lockers,” Carol told her as she thought through the logic, “plus it would be noticed right away, crashing the plane in the snow like this, it could have been several more hours until we found it on our own, this was planned and deliberate to give them plenty of time.”
“So far they’ve seemed to have removed any trace of their hack,” the Lieutenant continued, “but we’ll keep looking, see if we can figure out who they might be.”
“Thank you,” she nodded at him, “keep me updated.”
Carol’s sat phone started to ring and when she saw who was calling she passed it over to Logan.
“Chuck,” he said into the phone, “you got him?” there was a short pause. “Albany, alright, I can work with that,” another pause, “no, we don’t know what’s going on yet, this could be terrorism or a simple arms deal, no need to worry anyone just yet.”
“Albany?” Carol asked after Logan hung up.
“Chuck said he was teleporting around there in the last hour,” the man nodded, “good a lead as any.”
“The winds are in our favor,” Ororo looked to the sky, “it should not take us long to get there.”
Carol was about to comment when men started to emerge from the wreck, carrying a gurney with Lockton’s body. All the personal who were working outside on the plane stopped what they were doing and saluted their fallen comrade, as did Carol. They watched in morose silence as he was carried to an ATV and loaded into the back.
“Right,” she turned to her fellow mutants, “let’s get this son of a bitch.”
…
The movie had ended and most of the kids were hanging around the lounge and entertainment areas.
“So,” Jubilee edged up to Kitty who was on her laptop playing WoW, “your birthday is Wednesday, got plans?”
“Well,” Kitty keep playing as she couldn’t exactly pause, “Sofia’s birthday is on Sunday, we were thinking of having a double party on Saturday like we did last year.”
“That’s cool,” Jubilee pulled up a chair, “but we got to do something special for your 18th. It’s your 18th!”
“It’s not like it’s my 21st and I can go out to a bar,” she pointed out then frowned, “not that I actually would.”
“You’re right, you wouldn’t,” Jubilee smirked, “but still, we gotta do something!”
Kitty laughed, “I’ll think about it.”
“Hey, Ben,” they head Bobby walk up to the fire starter who was playing a round of pool, “they’re ready for you.”
“Right,” he didn’t seem ready for them and handed his pool cue over to his roommate James who gave him a pat on the shoulder.
“You’ll do fine,” the Apache told him, “the doctor knows what he’s doing.”
“Yeah,” Ben replied though it didn’t look like he believed it.
Ben followed Bobby out of the room amongst general assurances by his fellow students. Many had already been through moments where their mutations had to evolve through a scary growth spurt, and the rest of them knew they were next.
…
Ben stood awkwardly in the middle of the telepath training room as Jean stuck little sensors to him. He was only wearing a pair of fire resistant shorts and she could tell he was feeling very self conscious about it.
“You’ll probably melt these off,” she told him as she stuck one on his chest, “but until that happens we’ll be able to get some readings on how your body is changing and adapting to contain the fire.”
“Okay,” he nodded and she put some oxygen meters on his left hand.
“Try to save this hand to last,” she asked him.
“Will try,” he was definitely nervous but there wasn’t really anything she could do for him other than give him a reassuring smile.
“You’ll do fine,” Bobby said from where he was perched on a stool, “worst you might get is a little sun tan.”
“I do believe Mr. Drake is correct in his assessment,” Hank said from where he was sitting in front of a mobile computer desk with two monitors and several cables which connected to the sensors on Ben.
“It’ll be okay,” Jean told Ben then walked over to stand next to Hank.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Hank said as he tapped away at the keyboard.
“Okay,” Ben let out a long breath and lit the fire in his right hand.
There were spikes in certain electrodes that were connected to his head but otherwise things seemed to stay the same.
“You may continue,” Hank told the young man.
Ben dropped the flame into his hand so it touched skin and there was a small spike in his CO2 levels according to the monitor on his fingers.
“How do you feel?” Hank asked.
“A little tingly,” the boy admitted as the flame traveled up his arm, “but no pain.”
“Any numbness?” Jean was afraid that the flames could get hot enough to simply forgo that step in the burn process.
“No, I can feel my fingers,” he wiggled them let the fire reach his neck, it was then Ben started to hyperventilate as the fire spread across his chest.
“Just breathe normally,” Jean stepped forward, “deep, even breaths. Trust that your mutation has adapted for this.”
Nodding and taking a big gulp of air, “Trust the fire,” he mumbled, “trust the fire.”
The chest sensors burned off as the fire continued down his body to his legs, only his head and left arm was free of the flames.
“Look at his oxygen levels,” Hank pointed to the screen, “anyone else and these levels would be devastating.”
“Makes sense,” Jean nodded as she looked at the figures herself, then to Ben, “your body seems to be able to process carbon dioxide like oxygen, it’s protecting you from the fire’s effect, just like how your skin isn’t burning.”
“This means I can breathe CO2?” Ben blinked.
“That’s a test for another day,” she told him, “now why don’t you try to cover your entire body in flames.”
With a nod, he took a deep breath and the fire began to consume his whole body. At first he began to hyperventilate again but as he took in the air that he could he realized he wasn’t passing out and that helped to keep him calmer, though he wouldn’t open his eyes as the flames wiped around his ears and then used his spiked hair as a wick.
“Fascinating,” Hank was checking the numbers right before the sensors failed.
There was a sudden flare and Ben’s head glowed brightly as he seemed to ignite despite the fact he was already on fire.
“Ah!” Ben freaked and started to stumble backwards.
“Bobby!” Jean shouted but the Iceman was already on the move, he jumped forward and sent a burst of cold and ice towards the boy.
Like a fire extinguisher, snow sprayed down on Ben who had fallen to the floor.
“Dear boy,” Hank said as the three of them gathering around him, Jean kneeling next to Ben and checking his vitals, “how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” he started to run his hand through his hair, “I don’t know what happened,” that’s when they noticed that some of his hair had apparently caught fire and chunks where missing, “ah, man.”
“Oh my,” Hank said as he examined the area, “it seems we had a slight miscalculation.”
“But why would his head hair catch fire when his body hair didn’t?” Jean asked as they helped Ben to stand.
“We’ll have to take some samples,” Hank took on a very serious expression, “and further testing is required.”
“Hold on,” Bobby stopped them, “two geniuses in the room and I’m the one who gets it?”
“And?” Jean prompted him.
“Ben might be non-flammable,” Bobby was grinning like he was so proud of himself, “but I bet the hair gel he put in his hair this morning wasn’t.”
Hank and Jean and looked at each other then down at Ben.
“Might I suggest investing in non-flammable hair products from now on?” Hank told the boy.
“You think?”
…
“What’s the plan?” Carol said as the three of them immerged from an alleyway in the middle of Albany, New York.
“I’m going hunting,” Logan started sniffing the air, “I’ll be faster without you, I’ll call you when I find the red rat.”
“Don’t engage him yourself,” Ororo put her hand on his shoulder.
“Azazel won’t let me get ten feet from him before rabbiting,” Logan let out a little growl.
“Then we approach this like Bahrain,” Carol decided, “we’ll be waiting for your call.”
With a nod, Logan took a whiff of the air and headed off across the street and disappeared from view.
“Dare I ask about Bahrain?” Ororo asked her.
“Classified,” Carol smirked, then gestured down the road, “come on, tell me everything you know about Azazel.”
…
A green Taurus pulled up into a garage in Allentown, Pennsylvania, and the man throwing two duffels into the back of his van was not entirely impressed.
“Hey,” Frank O’Reilly called to the driver as they turned off the engine, “it’s six, we’re closed.”
The driver stepped out, a short auburn haired woman with a stark white streak and a tight fitting shirt. Her companion also got out, this one with long curly brown hair, red streets, and bright red lips.
“Well, darn,” the driver, who sounded like she just came off the farm, said as she half-frowned, half-pouted, “I guess we’ll just have to go someplace else.”
“Now don’t be too hasty,” he said as they started to get back into the car. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“She started to make this knocking sound,” the driver didn’t seem to sure about that.
“I think it was more of a bang,” her friend corrected in a foreign sounding accent.
“Why don’t you pop the hood and I’ll have a look,” Frank smiled, this might be a profitable night for him in many ways.
“That’s this button right,” she reached in and suddenly the trunk came open, “oops,” she tried again and the hood unlatched.
“Let’s see what we got,” he opened the hood to do a cursory inspection, “she doesn’t seem to have anything obvious amiss,” the two women came around and flanked him, “but I might have to take her for a test drive to figure out what this banging noise is.”
“And leave us here all by ourselves?” the passenger asked.
“You’ll be safe in the office,” he assured her, “I promise.”
“Really,” she brightened up, “just like all those people you smuggled to Worthington Enterprises?”
The last thing he wouldn’t remember thinking before he blacked out was how did this woman know about that?
…
“You know,” Wanda stared down at Frank O’Reilly’s comatose form, “sometimes they really make it too easy.”
Rogue was standing still with her eyes closed shuffling through the memories she had taken from the man. Seconds later, Pietro was standing next to them and another car was pulling into the driveway of the garage.
“I’ll search his office,” Pietro said and disappeared into the work area while Pyro and Avalanche filed out of the other vehicle.
“So,” Pryo asked nudged the downed man, “is he part of the ring?”
“Still waiting on the verdict,” she pointed at Rogue.
Pietro was once again next to them, “The office is clear, just like his home. If he is part of a smuggling ring he’s compartmentalizing pretty well.”
“He’s smarter than he looks,” Rogue opened her eyes.
“So he is part of it?” Pyro echoed his earlier words.
“He’s the driver for this area,” she nodded, “he gets told a location, he picks up, he drops off, he doesn’t write anything down and he’s saving the money in a special bank account.“
“I bet he doesn’t even think twice about he’s really doing,” Wanda shook her head in disgust.
“He doesn’t,” Rogue told her, “and there’s going to be a shipment, tonight.”
“Tonight?” Pietro confirmed.
“Yeah,” she nodded and pointed to her temple, “I got the details all up here.”
“Then we know what we have to do.”
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X-Men: The (fan fic) Series 
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