WEAPON NEXT
Perceiving a rear attack, the young woman effortlessly drifted into the air and avoided an unbalancing strike made for her legs. While the assault itself was unsuccessful, it was distracting enough to allow elongated nails opportunity to slash their way across her abdomen. The claws easily bypassed the material of her issued body suit and made contact with hazardous flesh. Her well-acquainted enemy swiftly retracted before a leeching touch could be made.

A chilling smile contorted the attacker�s lion-esque features as his foe unceremoniously toppled to the ground. Blood feverishly pumped its way through Sabertooth�s veins at the thrill of pending victory.

One hand covered the imposing wound while another rose to brush dual-colored hair from her youthful face. Rogue unflinchingly stared down death with defiant, flashing green eyes. �You never would�ve gotten that blow in iffin that measly Toad hadn�t tried to trip me,� she pantingly jeered. �Wouldn�t no fair fight at all, you dang varmint. You couldn�t beat me on your best day and you know it.�

A growl rumbled from her hulking adversary and he took a menacing step forward to silence the sassy belle once and for all. However, his moment of glory was interrupted by a horrified cry, �Chere!�

In rapid succession, five kinetically charged cards exploded against Sabertooth�s monstrous frame and caused him to waver. It granted his quarry time to exhaustively backpedal, but she was unable to escape his maniacal gaze. Healing factor kicking into overdrive, the beast-like man shrugged off the sniping throws long enough to make a murderous leap at his elected victim.

�Rogue!�

Mid-jump, a beam of tempered energy caught him in the chest and deflected his malicious intent. Sabertooth was propelled backwards and howled in frustration. He realized the odds were no longer in his favor as Cyclops and Gambit joined their fallen comrade, so he suggestively licked his lips and made a final threat to his rival, �This isn�t over, frail. You�re mine.�

The renegade mutant fled the battle site.

Rogue exhaled an alleviated sigh and lay back. Almost instantly, two anxious faces were hovering over her. Cyclops kneeled and carefully moved her gloved hand to inspect the injury.

�The others?� She tiredly inquired, while attempting to ignore the searing pain.

�Everyone�s fine,� Cyclops replied. Simultaneously, he mentally shouted for the field telepath and doctor, {Jean!}.

�Oui, ma petite,� Gambit concurred. "Dat crazy femme, Mystique, and her brotherhood of misfits flee upon seein� de X-men. Gambit flash a card or two and dey wet der pants in sheer terror.�

Rogue struggled to remain blas� about her present predicament. Noting the two men�s obvious concern, she assured, �I�m fine, y'all. Don�t you go worryin' yourselves about me none. I�ll be right as rain after Jean gives me a band-aid and I find some handsome fella to risk life and limb by kissin� my boo-boo.� She finished by giving her beau, Gambit, a saucy wink. �Next time, that mean ol� puss ain�t gonna get the drop on me.�

Cyclops� usually stoic demeanor turned into one of affection at her words. �The gloves are coming off, eh?�

�Literally, if need be, sugah,� she said in complete seriousness.

* * *
A uniformed man watched the mutant duck and parry opposition more than twice her size. He was impressed when one of her punches knocked the blonde giant a good fifteen feet. Not really injured, her nemesis quickly returned to the fray with a berserker�s rage. In the end, the herculean female was only struck down when a joint campaign was made against her.

He buoyantly hit the rewind button and allowed his colleagues to observe the scene again. He paused on a close-up of Rogue�s pain-laden face as she rested between two compatriots and waited for medical assistance.

�She�s the one.�

* * *
Enhanced hearing discerned the hum of a dozen or more cameras recording all of the seemingly mundane campus� activity. Concealed by numerous trees on the outskirts of Xavier�s School for Gifted Youngsters, the would-be trespasser intently surveyed the vicinity for additional security apparatuses. He reached for one of the many gadgets fastened to his well-furnished belt and withdrew a pair of goggles.

Settling the goggles abridge his nose, the man pressed a miniature on/off switch located on the right frame. His perception immediately altered. The reconnaissance technology allowed him to detect a faint light zigzagging its way across the grounds, a sensory alert to forewarn the academy�s residents of uninvited guests.

Not considering the safety measures identified much of a deterrent and there appearing to be no other impediments, he gruffly spoke into a wireless headset, �Opening detected. Enter and retrieval sanction requested. Over.�

The static-filled response of �affirmative� crackled its way back to him. He offered a grunt at the go-ahead.

There was no further communication as he sprinted from cover - short, muscular physique surprisingly lithe - and waded through the maze of luminescent crisscrosses (blending into the night all the while) defensively scattered about the property. He scowled upon reaching the manor�s front steps; the task had been estimated to take 8.5 seconds, he had completed it in 8.9.

Moving to the door, a derisive snort escaped as soon as he inspected the lock. He produced a small device from the strap situated around his waist and attached it to a security pad located just above the bell. A slight sizzle was emitted when an electric shock made the protection-system inoperative. Lastly, a lock-pick was selected, slid into the keyhole and used to release the bolt with little-to-no difficulty.

�Access obtained. Retrieval underway,� the Wolverine advised. Cakewalk.

* * *
�Erik Magnus Lensherr�s incarceration concluded today. In large part, his newfound freedom should be credited to the support of Senator Robert Jefferson Kelly. Lensherr, better known as Magneto, was the alleged mastermind behind the terrorist attack against the world leaders at the United Nations summit in New York during 2000. Prior to the assault on Ellis Island, Senator Kelly did an about-face - his platform against mutant rights turning into one for mutant rights. Since Lensherr was convicted in 2001, the Senator has been outspoken on what he calls the unjust persecution of a man misunderstood because of his gifts. He opined that there was insufficient evidence to prove Lensherr�s guilt and the Appeals Court has now agreed...� -Trish Tilby reporting for BNBC.

* * *
Magneto was not one to be intimidated. He had lived and witnessed far too much for that coward's emotion. However, were there ever a time for him to reconsider that stance, it would be now. Pinned against a brick wall, he met red, hate-filled eyes and, with typical bravado, warned, "Release me now or suffer the consequences."

"No, mon ami, you aren't de one in charge here. Gambit is. Dis is checkmate, you hear? Game over. Where's Rogue?"

Anger at the insolent tone made the Master of Magnetism�s calm momentarily falter, "You forget who you speak to, boy..."

The impending lecture was cut off as a blue-scaled woman sailed through the air, leg kicking itself out to impinge on the Cajun's head. An invisible force barricaded itself between Mystique and her intended target in advance of contact being made. A bellow of outrage resonated from the reptilian-like mutant as she landed with a cat's grace and pivoted to confront Gambit's rescuer.

Mystique was not given opportunity to formulate an attack. With the mere wave of a hand, Jean telekentically tossed her aside and then, as if the shape-shifter were of no consequence, focused her attention on the pair of men. Helmet having been lost during an earlier scuffle, Magneto was now vulnerable to her telepathic probing. In a matter of seconds she had the answer needed.

"Let him go, Gambit. Rogue isn't here."

"Dis some kind of trick. He's playin' you. Playin' us all. She has to be here. She has to!"

His desperation was palpable. Sympathy welled up inside of Jean. She consolingly touched his shoulder and felt it sag in dejection. "I'm so sorry, Remy. I promise though, we'll find her. Wherever she is, we'll find her."

Cyclops, having arrived for the climax, apprehended their attack had been for naught and promptly ordered, "Everyone, fall out!"

In acknowledgment of the command, one last flash of lightening descended from above, shooting shards of ice came to a halt and the globules from multi-colored pyrokinetics fizzled to nothingness. Fighting ceased. Storm, Iceman and Jubilee retreated to the Blackbird, leaving several overwhelmed Brotherhood members in their wake. Only one did not adhere to his superior's instruction...

"Gambit, you heard me. I said move!"

In a furor, the card-thrower relinquished his hold and walked away. His skepticism at the other's lack of involvement clearly remained.

In a rare moment of compassion, Magneto called out, "I regret your loss, X-man, but I do not know where your comrade is. Not this time."

Gambit did not bother to look back. "Dat best be de truth, Lensherr. Or else."

* * *
"You should have killed him. The arrogant swine."

A reply was slow in coming. Magneto awaited the X-jet's departure before dropping a metal bar he had levitated unnoticed for the past several minutes - its intent having been to strike Gambit down if warranted. The crafted weapon was nothing more than a ball of scrap upon crashing to the earth.

�He was more useful alive. Now we know what they were after: the girl, Rogue.�

Hearing the consternation in his voice, Mystique gave a careless shrug. �One less X-man. Mutantkind is better off for it, if you ask me.�

�A missing mutant with the potential of limitless power. I wouldn�t be so indifferent to her whereabouts if I were you, my dear. In the right hands she is dangerous, in the wrong hands she is deadly.�

* * *
An adamantium-laced claw pierced the guard from behind. Skin was little better than butter against the lab-manufactured weapon. A dying gasp warned the second watchman of trouble, but not soon enough to save him. In a blur of movements, the interloper had him seized by the throat and roughly squeezed.

When both patrollers were out of commission, Wolverine silently pointed at a second story window in signal. His partner nodded in understanding and took to the sky. Entry was not a challenge.

The darkened interior did not daunt the assassin, she had already studied the layout and knew it like the back of her hand. In eleven paces she was standing by the bed and peeling off the protective covering of her glove. The room's occupant slept unaware. Without hesitation, she flattened a palm to her prey's cheek.

Mystique's eyes flew open with a start. Her vision became obscured and she fought to evade the menace. The fraudulent Senator Kelly's efforts at self-defense dissipated as her life force ebbed away. Horror engulfed her deteriorating mind when she realized only one mutant was capable of wreaking such damage. Magneto's words came back to haunt her, "In the right hands she is dangerous, in the wrong hands she is deadly."

* * *
"Mission accomplished, gentleman," informed Weapon X's head. "Our newest recruit was successful. The knowledge she absorbed from 'Senator Kelly' will be of great benefit to our cause."

A celebratory cheer resounded. This was followed by someone asking, "What next?"

At the question, General William Stryker tossed a folder on the conference table. The inquirer retrieved it and glanced inside. A photograph of an aging, bald man was paper-clipped on top with "MUTANT" stamped to it in blood red. The file's tab read: Charles Francis Xavier.

"We destroy them, of course. Every last one of them. Beginning with him."

THE END
Author's Note: This is an alternate universe (combining the comic-verse and movie-verse) where Wolverine never escaped Weapon X. Let's just assume that the first movie's events happened without his being involved, Toad didn't die, Rogue has now permanently taken on Ms. Marvel's powers, etc. Please do not e-mail me concerning errors. Repeat: This is an alternate universe.
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