The Cold Hearted Truth

 

Kaleidopy

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

The door opened and Vertigo slowly emerged, taking her time walking down the corridor.  Silently she passed by each cell, staring unemotionally at each marauder as if waiting for one of them to speak. 

Scalphunter stared through the energized bars, glaring at his former associate.  "Did you come here to gloat?" he asked, smiling when Vertigo stepped closer.  Another inch or two and she would be close enough to grab.  Visions of ways to kill her flashed through his mind.  Let Sinister create duplicates, he'd destroy those as well.  Nobody, but nobody played him for a fool. 

"Xavier learned nothing from me.  Prism however, ..."

"Prism is a brainless twit," he stated, keeping his voice even to lure the traitor into a false sense of security.  "He has always been the weakest, a fact you knew before you chose to follow in his steps."

"Let me talk to her, lover," Philippa cooed, whispering from the joining cell.  "She will listen to me."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then we have lost nothing."

He nodded, granting the request.  Not that he couldn't stop Arclight, but if it meant getting Vertigo within his grasp, he would do anything.

"Vert," Philippa spoke softly, getting the other woman's attention.  Vertigo walked in front of the cell, but stayed out of arm's reach.  "You are my sister," Arclight said, glancing at several of the Marauders before continuing, "Unlike some of these morons, we understand one another."

"Sisters?"  Riptide laughed, "and you call us morons?"

Arclight lifted her head, narrowed her eyes, and a silent vow of retribution followed.  Her attention returned to Vertigo.  "I know you Vert.  You are living a lie."

"I made a mistake," Vertigo admitted with a deep sigh.

"You are a Marauder," Arclight declared, grinning victoriously at the Marauder leader.  "You belong with us, your true family."

"She's a traitor," Riptide snapped, interrupting the conversation.  "For a dollar, I'd rip out her tongue and wrap it around her scrawny neck."

"Shut up, Janos," the Marauder leader commanded.  If Arclight had a plan, she didn't need the reckless Marauder interfering.  Blockbuster caught his eyes, and responded with an understanding nod.  Baer whispered something to Riptide, who shrugged and then retreated to the back of his cell.

"Ignore Quested," Arclight continued, "He doesn't speak for everyone.  I'm willing to forgive the past if you prove your loyalty by freeing us.  I give you my word that no harm will come to you."

"I have your word, Philippa," Vertigo said, glancing suspiciously in Scalphunter's direction, "But he's our leader.  His word is law.  I want Scalphunter's word as well." 

"I have no beef with you, Vertigo," Blockbuster answered, "I even missed you."

"I won't lift a finger against you," Scrambler replied, speaking for the first time.  "But I'll never trust you again."

The promises meant nothing to Vertigo.  She stood planted, waiting on the leader's words that told her what her future meant.

"Why should I trust you?" he asked, demanding an answer.  "You could be working for the X-dummies right now, winning their favor to give them information about us or the boss."

"To prove my loyalty, I'll give you information about them with no strings attached," Vertigo replied, smiling with assurance.  "There's only one X-man in the mansion, and that's Wolverine.  He's all that stands between you and freedom." 

"Where are the others?"

"Xavier invited the rest, including the Starjammers to a restaurant to celebrate their victory," Vertigo answered. 

"There is a price for my forgiveness," Scalphunter stated.  "Prove your loyalty by killing the one who led you astray."

"It will be my pleasure," Vertigo responded by deactivating the energy field.

Scalphunter moved to a compartment, opened it, and retrieved their weapons.  He tossed each member their armor and weapons. "Let's move," he said.  "We don't have long before Wolverine comes down here."

"Too late, Hunter," Wolverine sneered, unsheathing his claws.  The Canadian glared at Vertigo.  "I knew Cyclops made a mistake in trustin' you."

"His mistake is your fatality," Vertigo laughed, using her powers on the X-man, and the unsuspecting Prism.

"Vertigo, why?"  Prism asked, fighting the waves of dizziness.  He never had time to scream as flying pieces of metal flew at him at incredible speeds, imbedded inside his body, scattering his existence into a thousand pieces of glass.

Wolverine fought off the nausea, managing to slap the shurikens back in the Marauders direction.

"You fool!  You'll kill us all," the Marauder leader shouted, firing his rifle several times into his whirling comrade.  Riptide fell to the floor, but not before taking Scramble down with him.  Enraged over the loss, Scalphunter fired at his enemy, forcing Wolverine to dodge and roll to escape the weaponry.

Vertigo fired another wave at the X-man, laughing at Wolverine's feeble attempt to stand up.  "Baer, he's all yours."

Blockbuster reached down, picked up the Canadian, and threw him head first into the wall.  Not giving the X-man a chance to recover, Baer kicked his victim twice in the chest, grinning with delight when something snapped.  

"Didn't hurt," Wolverine grunted, rolling over on his back.  Blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth, and trickled down his chin.  "Jubilee can kick harder than that."

"Finish him off or I will," Scalphunter shouted, growing impatient with the team's failure to subdue Wolverine.  

Arclight stepped over Wolverine, kicking him in the head until he collapsed into unconsciousness.  She grinned, "It takes a woman to deal with the likes of the famous Wolverine."

Blockbuster shrugged, and then picked up his two unconscious companions.  "What now?"

Scalphunter motioned the others to follow him.  Each giving a violent kick to Wolverine as they made their way out of their prison.  Vertigo took the lead, guiding the team upstairs where Scalphunter contacted Sinister.  Seconds later, a glowing portal appeared and the Marauders stepped into it and disappeared.

-------------------------

 

Jean casually glanced at her family and friends, listening to their laughter, which had been rare considering the things the group had gone through the past few weeks.

Scott and Corsair were enjoying a lighthearted conversation over who was the better leader, and Warren and Betsy appeared oblivious to their surroundings, each staring affectionately into each eyes.  Their relationship reminded her fondly of the days Scott had romanced her before finally getting the courage to propose marriage.

She glanced at the other table, smiling at the promising romance between Bishop and Storm.  Thankful Onslaught had been defeated, and the terrible world Bishop had described would never happen, Jean hoped the man and her best friend would find the happiness they both deserved.

Her happiness turned to disbelief when she spotted Bobby freezing peas and shooting them at two loud and apparently drunk customers.  

"It's raining in here," one declared, slurring his words as he held out his hand waiting for water to hit it. 

Bobby lifted a finger, grinning with mischief and snow started falling over the twos' heads.

"Now it's snowing," the drunk declared.

'Bobby,' she telepathically warned the younger mutant, 'stop it, or you'll be sorry.'

Caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Bobby lowered his shoulders and sighed in defeat.  'You sure know how to suck the fun out of a room, Jean.' 

'Jeannie...'  Wolverine's pain filled voice called out to her.

"Wolverine," she answered, shocked to hear the Canadian in such pain.  She ignored the stares she received from the others around the table, focusing all her concentration on learning Wolverine's condition.  "Logan, please answer me," Jean repeated, straining her mental abilities to reach out across the astral field. 

"I'm unable to read Logan as well, Jean," Betsy revealed.  Psylocke turned to Xavier.  "Can you, Professor?  Something terrible has happened."

"Betsy, teleport as many as you can to the mansion," Charles ordered, tossing down his napkin.  The urgency in Xavier's voice only confirmed Jean's worst fears.  "Those who can fly, go now.  We need to get as many people into the mansion to help Logan as quick as we can.  Remember, the Marauders might be free and planning an ambush."

Scott tapped her shoulder, urging her to follow where Hepzibah and Psylocke stood waiting.  Jean followed her husband, clasping his hand as they prepared to teleport. 

Rogue, Warren, and Storm rushed out of the building with Bishop, Remy, and Bobby chasing after them.  The professor's mouth seemed to move in slow motion, and then the room started to grow bright as the teleportation started. 

----------------------

"Jean, scan for Wolverine and the Marauders," Scott whispered as they materialized inside the mansion. 

'Scott,' Jean replied telepathically.  'I'm reading Logan, but interference is disrupting the physic plane.  It's fading quickly, but it still there." 

"Interference?" he shouted, violating the revered rule of remaining silent until the area was secured.  As leader, he knew he wasn't setting a good example, but Wolverine's safety and the thought of the Marauders waiting in ambush clouded his judgment.  "What's causing the interference?"

"An unique portal, or tesseract," Jean answered.  "It created a ripple on the physic plane, just enough for any telepath to notice it.  The distraction was enough to allow the Marauders a chance to escape through it." 

"And Logan," Beast asked frantically.  "We need to get to the detention cells to..."

"Logan's alive.  He's finally able to answer my mental call," Jean revealed, reassuring the men with her revelation.  Scott let out a heavy sigh of relief, listening as she informed him of Wolverine's reply.  "Vertigo freed the Marauders before he could stop her.  They killed Prism and tried to do the same to him.  Logan is very agitated, refusing to acknowledge his injuries.  He claims he's...oh my..." she gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth.  Her cheeks turned red, blushing from embarrassment.

"Jean?"

His wife cleared her throat, trying hard to regain her composure.  "Logan doesn't bother to conceal his thoughts, especially when he's angry."

"I can imagine the language," Scott commented.  The stocky Canadian's vocabulary could make a stand-up comedian blush.

"Oh you have no idea," Jean laughed.  "He's in the elevator now and he's not in a good mood."

"Is he ever?"  Scott replied, dreading the instant the elevator doors would open to reveal the angry Wolverine.  He heard a slight noise, turned, and uttered a silent prayer of thanks when the others arrived.  At least he wouldn't have to deal with Wolverine alone. 

"Stinkin' Marauders," Logan snarled, emerging from the elevator.  "If it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna make everyone of them regret not killin' me." 

Scott debated the worthless task of asking Wolverine to consent to a medical examination, fearing the Marauders might have caused some internal injuries, but nixed the idea when Wolverine shot him a hostile glare. 

"I'm gonna start with that worthless Vertigo," Wolverine said, eyeing Scott with an unspoken accusation. 

Cyclops rolled his eyes, expecting another useless confrontation with Wolverine. 

His leadership role had never been threatened, but the smaller man's tendency to challenge his authority had worn thin, and Scott refused to take it anymore.

"It isn't anyone's fault that the Marauders escaped.  Nobody could have predicted what was going to happen," he stated, biting back the urge to level the same accusation back at Wolverine.  When the Canadian folded his arms, apathetic at the rupee offered, Scott lost his temper.  "About Vertigo and Prism, I did what I thought was best."

"Then yer best wasn't good enough, Summers," Wolverine hissed, slamming his fist into his open palm.  "We had them, every last one of them, but you were so damn sure you coulda transform a Marauder that you never thought about the repercussion of ..."

"Logan, it was YOU who refused assistance when you agreed to guard the mansion," Jean shouted, shocking everyone by interrupting the intense argument.  Normally she threatened the two men telepathically, always ending the conflicts as the forceful peacemaker, but this time, she publicly sided with her husband.  "Scott did everything but beg you to reconsider, but doing so would have wounded your male pride."

Silence descended on the small group as everyone waited for Wolverine to make a move. 

"I'm still gonna kill those Marauders," Wolverine vowed, and then stormed out of the mansion.  "Every last one of 'em is gonna regret they let me live."

Scott had no doubt that Wolverine would get his wish.

---------------------------

Several days later,

BILLINGS MONTANA

Muted screams drifted outside the laboratory's sealed doors and lingered in the dimly lit hallway, but the Marauders remained where they stood, ignoring the pain-filled sounds escaping from inside the four walls.

None were brave or stupid enough to interrupt the procedure going on inside.  With the recent defeat by the X-Men, Sinister's concentration turned towards a newly created organism. 

Summoned to the laboratory, the Marauders watched silently as the scientist performed a series of tests.  When results weren't what were expected, Sinister demanded one of his captured specimens as a replacement.

Believing a Marauder might become the next victim, Scalphunter quickly hurried to an adjoining room, and returned with a collared mutant.  He unsympathetically tossed the unfortunate victim into the waiting arms of the scientist, and ordered the Marauders out of the laboratory to wait for further orders from their master.

"Strange Harpoon hasn't shown up or at least reported his whereabouts," Blockbuster said, ending the ten-minute silence.  "It's not like him to go AWOL."

"AWOL, hell.  That birdbrain Worthington yanked him out of the mansion, and then flew the coop.  Unless Harpoon sprouted a set of wings, he ain't coming back," Riptide stated, rubbing his chin before grinning with amusement.  "You don't think that X-Man," he paused, and then shook his head.  "Naw, we're talking about the self-righteous Worthington.  He wouldn't have the guts to pull..."

A pain-filled cry was abruptly cut off in mid-scream, interrupting Riptide's statement.  Seconds later the door hissed opened, and Sinister walked into the corridor.  The red eyes locked onto the assembled group.  "Bring me another specimen, or one of you will take their place."

Scalphunter nodded, and signaled the others to follow.  Everyone picked up their pace as they put distance between them and their master.  They reached the throne room, Sinister's special room where his special chair was located when they moved to a new base.

"You want to grab a homeless this time?"  Arclight asked, wasting no time in making a suggestion.  "Since those mutants keep to themselves, nobody is going to report them missing.  And with the mood the Boss is in right now, it would buy us some time."

"Janos, do as Arclight suggested, take Baer with you," Scalphunter ordered.  "You have one hour to complete the mission.  Fail, and take your chances with Sinister."

The two Marauders left the large room to carry out their leader's command, but Arclight wasted no time in placing the blame at Scalphunter's feet. 

"I told you LeBeau would turn, but you wouldn't listen," Arclight shouted angrily.  The Native American glared down at her.  A glare that would have frightened any seasoned warrior, but Philippa was the exception.  She laughed in his face.  "If anyone is to blame for the predicament we're in now, it's you!"

"Watch your words, woman.  Killing you might be a setback, but it's nothing that can't be rectified," he said, threateningly.  He favored Arclight, but as long as he commanded the Marauders, she wasn't above reprimanding.  "Place the blame on the one you were quick to forgive; your so-called sister."  He nodded in Vertigo's direction.  "She's the one who gave vital information to the X-Men, and they used that information to infiltrate our defenses.  So don't you dare blame..."

"Forgiving any traitor is a mistake," Scrambler added.  With a slight turn of his head, he stared accusingly at Vertigo.  "And I mean, any traitor."

"It wasn't me who squealed like a pig, it was Prism. "  Vertigo interrupted.  "I stayed loyal to the Marauders, and I can prove it."

"You're lying through your rotten teeth," Scrambler said, slowly reaching for a concealed weapon.

"Reach further and risk incineration," Sinister's threatening voice informed the Alaskan, who wisely heeded the warning.  The scientist materialized, sitting in his chair.  "Everything has transpired because I have willed it, including your capture and freedom."  He turned to Vertigo, a slight smile played across his lips.  "Enlighten your comrades, so they might understand." 

"I was ordered to play the part of a traitor, so I can get access to Xavier's mansion," Vertigo revealed.  She gave each Marauder a smug smile before continuing,  "As planned, the X-Men took me in, giving me the opportunity to plant three listening devices inside the mansion."  She cocked a triumphant smile, and proudly announced to Sinister, "Everything is as you ordered me to do, Sir."

"Including the phone system?"

"Oh that one was my pleasure Sir."  Vertigo answered with pride in her voice.  "I had the chance to make sure the device was working before the X-Men knew I was missing."

"Vertigo was only a spy, not the traitor we were led to believe?"  Scalphunter asked, suspiciously studying Vertigo before turning his attention to Sinister.  "Why wasn't I told?  I'm the leader of this group, nothing or nobody uses them without my knowledge."

"You're leader because I put you in that position," Sinister stated, glaring at Scalphunter.  "Contradict me again and be replaced by another more eager to take your place." 

"Was Prism part of this plan?"

"Prism foolishly forgot about the device that prevents any of the Marauders from turning against me," Sinister explained, using the information to remind the group that they would never be free of him.  "An increased of newly created molecules that I inserted into Prism's DNA caused an unforeseen drawback; an emotional attachment to Vertigo."  He looked at the mentioned Marauder.  "She however, didn't return his feelings, and revealed Prism's plans of defection."

"Just like a woman," the Marauder leader muttered under his breath.  He would have laughed at Arclight's hostile glare if Sinister hadn't demanded complete compliance when he spoke.

"The plan was simple.  The Marauders were to kill Prism the instant he reached the X-Men's compound, giving Vertigo the perfect opportunity to appear a victim.  However the X-Men's unexpected arrival interrupted those plans, and Prism revealed damaging information," Sinister revealed, and then added,  "But that was a small setback when over all victory was assured."

"We won?"  Arclight asked sarcastically.  "Did someone forget to tell us?"

______________________

Epilog

The Mansion

 

With a frustrated sigh, Warren angrily tossed the financial section of the New York Times down on the table.  Emerson stock, his latest venture, had taken another nosedive, the third one in just two weeks.  Thanks to his so-called financial advisor, he had sunk a small fortune into that worthless stock. 

He stood up, and headed for the phone, determined to add another statistic to the unemployment line.  Warren reached for the telephone, but it started ringing.

"Xavier Institute for higher learning," he said, speaking into the receiver.

"Warren Worthington, please."

"Speaking, what can I do for you?"

"Oh, you are going to do a lot for me, Mr. Worthington," a low threatening voice responded, "a whole lot of things."

"Who is this?"  Warren shouted.  

"I know what you did to that Marauder," the voice laughed, mockingly,  "And I thought the X-Men had morals and didn't comment cold blooded murder."

"I want to know who this is," he demanded.  "If this is some sort of a blackmail attempt, you can forget it.  Nobody blackmails a Worthington."

"There's always a first time for everything, Mr. Worthington.  And very soon you will discover that very fact indeed," the voice vowed.  "I will be in touch with you later to discuss our new business association."

The line went dead.

Angel slammed down the phone.

"Who was that, Warren?"  Psylocke called from the kitchen.

"Nobody, Betsy," he lied, quickly concealing his thoughts from his lover.  He loved Betty Broderick with all his heart, but his secrets were his own.  He called down the hallway,  "I've got an errand to run, but I'll be back before our date tonight."

New Orleans

Jean-Luc LeBeau carefully placed the jewel case inside the wall safe and then locked it.  He returned the fake paneling over the safe, keeping it hid from public view.  The safe contained detailed information on business dealings, real estate deeds, stocks, bonds and most important, his unreported possessions.

His unique training, a valuable asset that had on many occasions saved his life, alerted him that another presence had entered the private room.  His hand slowly reached under the desktop to grab the revolver he kept hidden.  Turning quickly, he pulled out a small gun.

"Jean-Luc," a sinister voice called from the darkest corner.

Recognizing the intruder's voice, Jean-Luc LeBeau slowly lowered the weapon but kept a defensive pose.  Many years ago, he had crossed paths with this devil and history wasn't about to repeat itself.  "Essex," he said, glaring at the glowing red eyes from across the room.  "Why are you here?"

"It involves our shared investment," Sinister answered, emerging from the shadows.  "And his future."

"Remy is no concern of yours," he snapped, using the tone in his voice to end the conversation. 

"Your ignorance surprises me," Sinister stated, and then continued as if he hadn't insulted the man.  "As Remy's father, it concerns me that he continues to forge a relationship with those who hinder my aspirations." 

"Father!  You?  De hell you are!" he shouted, appalled by Essex's audacity to Remy's parentage.  "Dat boy never meant anything t' you unless dere were some scientific reason behind de motive.  You'll never be Remy's father.  You forfeited any claim on him when I adopted him."

"Only because I permitted it," Sinister countered.  "I am now reclaiming my property, either by choice or by force."

"So it comes down t' dis, no?"  Jean-Luc LeBeau said, challenging the deadly adversary's allegation.  Decades ago, he had relinquished his claim to world's master thief, but never, during his long life, had he been a fool.  "I've put too much into Remy's life to let you walk in now an' stake a claim."

"There's no reason why we should be rivals," Sinister said, holding up a hand to wave off a possible attack.  In a move that surprised the thief, Sinister retreated a step.  "We have much in common, you and I.  Our disapproval of Remy's alliance with the X-Men to name one."

At the mention of the X-Men, LeBeau dropped his shoulders and heaved a frustrated sigh.  "Xavier's absurd dream is senseless, an' it's going to get Remy killed."

"That was Xavier's idea from the beginning," Sinister declared.  The red diamond pulsated as the deep voice revealed, "Did you know Remy was abandoned and left to die in Antarctica by Xavier and his X-Men."

"What?"  Jean-Luc shouted, astonished by the accusation.  He shook his head, refusing to believe the absurd notion.  Sinister's allegation made no sense.  In fact, it was preposterous.  "I don't believe you.  You're wrong."

For a brief second, Sinister stared back at him before walking to the television set.  With a quick wave over the screen, the set came to life. 

LeBeau's eyes moved to the screen, curiously watching what appeared to be a large expensive hospital room.  He wasn't schooled in the medical field, but he easily recognized several large pieces of medical equipment, including a respirator that pumped oxygen into an anonymous patient's lungs.

Suspicious, he looked back at Sinister.  "Explain what I'm watchin'."

"Witness with your own eyes and learn the truth," Sinister said simply. 

Puzzled by the request, Jean-Luc reluctantly obeyed.  Seconds later, he got his answer.  Lying in the bed, hooked up to numerous tubes and wires, was his son.  "Remy," he gasped, comprehending the severity of his son's injuries.  An oxygen mask covered the patient's nose, but it didn't hide the bruises that adorned his son's face.

"When," he paused, fighting back emotions he thought long buried.  In an attempt to keep his composure, he cleared his throat and glared back at Sinister.  "When did dis happen?"  

"A few weeks ago."

The thief moved closer, unable to take his eyes off the screen.  Nothing was left to the imagination as every painful detail of his son's recuperation was documented in a brief version of the lengthy recovery.  It wasn't until he heard Remy's painful acceptance of being abandon by the X-Men did he believe Sinister's accusation. 

Jean-Luc touched the screen with his fingertips, wishing desperately that he had been there when his son really needed him.  Despite the fact his relationship with his adopted son had been estranged, Remy was a LeBeau, and harming any LeBeau demanded retribution.

"Turn dat thing off," he demanded, turning his back to the screen.  Sickened by what he had witnessed, he squeezed his eyes hoping to erase the images.  Failing, he could only ask.  "Why?"

"A question that has no justified answer."

Sinister's remark only angered the Cajun.  Discovering the X-Men's treachery, Jean-Luc found his chaotic thoughts drifting to his dead son, Henri.  Though Julian had committed the murder, Jean-Luc harbored a deep resentment towards the X-Men. 

He always thought it suspicious that with the mansion's impenetrable security and an elite team on the premises, the X-Men had failed to prevent Henri's brutal murder. 

He never wanted to believe the X-Men had been directly involved in Henri's murder, but too many baffling questions remained unanswered to dismiss the idea entirely.  When Xavier and the X-Men failed to provide an explanation or offer condolence, it only deepened his suspicions.

Unable to prove the X-Men's guilt in Henri's death had been a bitter pill for Jean-Luc to swallow.  His failure to find that evidence had almost proved fatal, again. 

"They played me for de fool twice," he shouted, slamming his fist down on the desk.  He winced, regretting the stupid move when the pain hit him.  He refused to cry out, choosing instead to focus on the matter at hand.

A strong hand squeezed his shoulder, bringing his thoughts back to the present. 

"To be denied vengeance for the death of a son must be your greatest regret."   

Astonished that Sinister had read his private thoughts, he glanced over his shoulder.  "How could you have known what I..."

"My abilities are beyond your comprehension," Sinister said bluntly, quickly putting an end to the request.  The hand was removed from LeBeau's shoulder and Sinister walked towards the darkest corner.  "I know you blame the X-Men for your son's death, and now learning of what they did to Remy only intensifies your anger."

LeBeau remained silent, certain that Sinister had an ulterior motive.

His wait wasn't long.

"I can grant what you desire most."

Apprehensive, LeBeau baited the scientist.  "What can you offer that I don't already have?"

"Henri LeBeau."

Jean-Luc gasped, never expecting to hear those two words.  He found his voice.  "Dat's impossible.  Henri's dead."

"I can return your son to you, alive and in perfect health."

Different scenarios played through his mind, but nothing equaled the desire he had to see his son alive again.  His decision made, he could only imagine the high price attached if he accepted the tempting offer.

Tempting?  Who was he kidding?  His mind was made up the instant Sinister mentioned his son's name.  "What price do you demand in return for Henri's life?"

"Does it matter?"

"Non," he admitted truthfully.  "Name de price and I'll pay it."

"In due time," Sinister promised.  He turned away, and waved his hand.  A portal formed, swirling with deep blue colors.  The scientist took a step towards the teleportation device and glanced over his shoulder to say,  "Make no mistake, once my services are rendered, the bargain cannot be altered or broken.  Think twice before you bargain with me, Jean-Luc."

"I don't care," he stated.  He would pay anything, including his own life if it meant Henri would live again.  "Do it."

Sinister's lip curved upward.  "Consider the deal sealed."  He stepped into the portal and disappeared. 

A door opened. 

"You made an agreement wit' de devil, Uncle."

"Perhaps, but I still have a card to play, Lapin."  Jean-Luc said, turning to his nephew.  Lapin and Remy were close growing up; perhaps his son had confided in his cousin.  "Has Remy spoken to you lately?"

"Non," the younger thief answered.  "De X-Men take up his time dese days," In a bitter voice, Lapin added, "Seems we were wrong 'bout dem, no?"

"You heard?" he asked, wondering how much eavesdropping his nephew had overheard.

"I heard enough," Lapin admitted angrily.  "Do you want me to go to New York an' learn de truth?  It's possible Sinister altered de tape he showed you."

"It wasn't altered," Jean-Luc answered.  "But go to New York, learn Xavier's school's security weaknesses.  Report your findings back to me as soon as possible."

"An' Remy?" 

If Remy discovered Henri's resurrection, his son would demand answers and learn of the bargain he made with Sinister.  No, he couldn't take that chance; the risk was too great.  Sinister would retaliate with disastrous consequences, possibly wiping out his entire guild. 

"Remy has no reason to suspect dat your visit is anything else.  Tell him nothin',"

"I'll leave in de morning," the younger man stated, leaving the room.

Alone, Jean-Luc moved to his desk, and pulled open a drawer.  An old photograph flew out and fell face down onto the floor.  He reached down, picked up the photograph, and flipped it over. 

A photograph, taken many years ago stared back at him.  Henri Lebeau's smiling face grinned proudly as his arm wrapped around the little boy who only days before had become his adopted little brother.

He smiled, remembering the photograph fondly.  Remy had been reluctant to have his photograph taken so Henri coaxed the youngster by promising a trip to the Superdome.  It worked, and the picture was taken without further problems.

That photo had been duplicated and given to both sons.  Henri, the sentimentalist, kept the photograph in his wallet and had carried it until the day he died.   

Looking down at the photograph, Jean-Luc swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.  Henri would have never approved of the bargain he made with Sinister, not if it meant losing Remy in the deal.

"Mon Dieu, " he said, realizing too late the repercussions of the bargain he had made with Sinister.  "What have I done?"

In his private anguish, he failed to notice the glowing red eyes watching him in silence.  The sinister figure disappeared as quickly as he had come.

 

The End.....For Now!

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