XCave.NET

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“ ” indicates spoken words

“Tonight I get my revenge”

It was late night and Mystique-Forge was about to bring her plan into action.

She had mapped out the location of each of the mansion residents. Xavier would be in his room. It was past midnight and the Professor made it a point to retire by that time. He had inculcated this particular habit over several years and unless there was an X-Men emergency, he tried to follow his schedule religiously.

Remy would be in his room and so would Rogue. They would be easy enough to handle, along with the rest of the junior X-Men, namely, Iceman, Colossus, Nightcrawler and Shadowcat.

Beast was in the infirmary, where he was running simulations upon simulations to refine Kitty and Kurt’s idea. So far, he had been able to get the probability of success over half, that meant, there was as much chance of freeing Logan of the intrusive thingamajigs that had completely taken over his body as there was a chance of blowing his brains and other vital organs out. If that happened, Henry did not know whether Logan’s healing factor would be able to compensate in time, and if it were able to repair the damage, what effect would the brain damage have over his bodily functions and memory.

The other two people Mystique had to dispense with were Scott and Jean, who would be in their room. From having tapped into the mansion internal sensors, she knew that Jean had returned from the lower levels and joined Scott for the night. Although, separately they wouldn’t pose a risk, the mere chance that will dealing with one of them, if the other got up, that would create trouble for the shape shifter…..and her deal with her employer, who had given her until 3 am to get the job done and signal him. Once that would be done, his men would come and take possession of the X-Men. At the same time, twenty million dollars would be wired to her account, where she had set that they be split into fifteen parts ranging from five hundred thousand to three million.

And, in accordance with their deal, she would get to keep the weather witch as her personal toy and do with her as she deemed fit. As for the X-Men, all of them, with the exception of Rogue were to be transported to a secret private facility, where their future awaited them. A future, she was sure would make them want to strike a deal with the devil and embrace death.

“Not my problem,” she said out aloud, her voice that of the Cheyenne she had offed a few hours ago.

------

What Mystique didn’t realize or know was that apart from the people she had listed, whom she would have to take care of and the students, who wouldn’t pose a problem, not to an authority figure, whom she was impersonating right now, there were also two others whom she hadn’t taken into account.

Having returned earlier in the evening, she had dispensed with the usual pleasantries and sat through the long stretched out explanation Beast had given about Logan’s condition. Showing her concern, she had requested Henry to send an updated model of the proposed plan to Forge’s personal lab in his room. It was there where she had been cooped the entire time, thus avoiding any chance of a slip.

In caring for her identity, she missed out meeting the two newcomers, Heather and Jubilee. Those two were at that very instant, in Heather’s room, where Jubilee was spending the night.
Earlier in the day, a bout of panic had hit her over her position in Logan’s new life. Until a couple of days ago, it had been just her and her Wolvie, with Heather being a kind of cool aunt thrown into the mix. Now, there were a whole list of people who were a threat to her….or at least that was she perceived them to be. It was this insecurity that had caused her to clutch her pillow under her arm and make a beeline for the redhead’s sleeping quarters, one of the many guest rooms in the X-Mansion.

----

On her part, Heather had tried her best to deal with young girl’s self-doubts.

“Jubilee,” she had said after listening to her ward rattle off for a better part of an hour. “That Logan had brought you here doesn’t mean he is leaving you. He only wants what is best for you.”

“But he left,” Jubilee pouted. “Didn’t even say bye.”
“He didn’t ‘leave’ leave,” Heather lay a motherly hand over the prone Jubilee. She was lying on her stomach, her head supported on crossed hands and turned towards Heather. “He just needed to clear his head. You know how he is. He leaves, blows his steam off, has a few beers….”

“Kicks a couple or more asses,” Jubilee added with a wistful grin. She had personally witnessed quite a few of Wolvie’s patented *ass-kickings*. In fact, the first time had been when he had found her.

“Yes, those too,” Green eyes twinkled with mirth.

“But now he is hurt,” Jubilee’s head dropped to the bed, her own eyes watering. The last time she had been to see Logan, she couldn’t bare it. Whatever was in his back had almost completely burrowed into his body, his healing factor causing the skin and tissue to grow around and over them.

“I know dear,” the hand moved from the shoulder to the head, long slender fingers running through raven colored short pointy hair. “But Mr. McCoy is working on a treatment. Now that the other person has come back, the one they were waiting for, things will move much faster and before your know, Logan will be back on his feet…..growling for a cigar and a beer.”

That comment didn’t get even a smirk from the troubled Jubilee.

“Do you think he will leave me here alone with all these people,” she spoke softly, her voice filled with trepidation. “Or leave me for them.”

“Why do you say that?” It had been the third time that Heather had to hear these words.

“They all know and call him by his name,” Both Heather and Jubilee knew that for Logan to tell anyone his name and permit that person to use it, that person must mean more than something to him. “Everyone.”

“Everyone? Who all come under everyone?” Heather had personally seen the Professor, Scott, Henry and Jean address him as Wolverine. It was only Ororo who had called him Logan.

“That Ororo,” Jubilee still wasn’t hip to Ororo being Logan’s love. However, she had accepted the snow haired Ororo enough to upgrade her name from Ice Bitch to Ice Witch, even going to Ice Lady a couple of times. “Kitty, that blue boy Kurt, that Remy, the one with the freaky eyes, although they are kinda cool. All of them.”

“That is just four people,” Heather smirked at the youngster’s imaginative visualization of the different X-Men. She had been quick to adopt Logan’s nicknames for them, and even drawn up a few of her own. Xavier was Chrome dome, Bobby was Icicle, Ice-pop or jackass, depending on the time, place and Jubilee’s mood. Kitty was wet-cat.

“Four people,” Jubilee held up four fingers. “In one place. How many times had that happened? And your old Alpha, beta, gamma flight days don’t count. How many times?”

Heather had no answer for that. She knew anything she said wouldn’t satisfy the girl completely. Jubilee had an uncanny ability to wrangle any argument into her favor, no matter what the point was. She had just one thing to say.

“Lets wait till Logan wakes up. Then you can ask him yourself,” Jubilee narrowed her eyes. She knew there was something else coming her way. “Until then, just make do. Ok?”

“Hmph,” was all the answer she got. The fact that there was no counter argument told her that her suggestion had been accepted or in Jubilee’s case, tabled for further prodding.

-----

“Almost two fifteen,” Mystique-Forge checked the time on the computer. “Time to make the move. But before that,” she flipped her personal phone and pressed seven for fast dial.

“Hello,” a masculine voice answered moments later.
“Its me,” Mystique spoke in her own voice. “Forty five minutes.’

“Ok,” the man returned. “Calibrate your watch. On my mark, 0215 hours. Three, two, one, mark.”
“Done,” Mystique answered back, ending the call the next second.

“Lets get to work.”

-----

Elsewhere,

The man mystique had just talked to, made a call of his own.

“Report,” the deep baritone of his boss answered.

“She’s started sir,” all of the man’s earlier gruffness paled against his superior.
“Good,” the mystery man’s lips twitched in a smirk. “You know what to do.”

“Yes sir. Once she finishes, we load the packages and get them to the airfield.”
“All of them.”

“Yes sir,” the man nodded. “Even the ones she wants for her own.”
“And kill her,” the voice ordered coldly. “I have not further need of her.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Sinister sir.”