More Than the X Can See

Chapter 17

Pack Leader Alpha walked across the grounds of the Montana Pack Training Facility. He looked like a senior military officer in his starched green camouflage clothes and shiny black combat boots. It was the gray hair in a long thick queue down to his waist that revealed he wasn’t part of any sanctioned United States government military. Most people who first met Alpha took his thick muscular form for that of a body builder’s or a World Wrestling Entertainment performer. Combined with his charismatic presence, the rumors he’d been a wrestler early in the history of the WWE seemed justified, but none of his men had ever been able to verify it.

Normally, Alpha inspired smiles and respectful salutes from his Pack members, but today he was walking next to Victor Creed, a man whose propensity for homicidal violence terrified most of his men, and he saw their fearful gazes as they furtively observed their progress from his private cabin to HQ. Creed was dressed in assassin chic; black leather boots, black cargo pants tailored for his long muscular legs, and a black cotton tee shirt molded to his thick chest and shoulders. A large expensive watch gleamed from his left wrist, it’s silvery metal a match to the tapered adamantium claws that jutted from the nail beds of his hands. His thick golden mane was cut short and in the past two months it’d begun to form waves as it grew out. His square face sported a full, dark gold goatee that framed a Cheshire grin of sharp, gleaming white teeth when he smiled. A smile that never reached his piercing amber eyes as they constantly moved, scanning his environment and identifying targets.

Entering the spartan Headquarters, Alpha headed for the communication center that took up half the building with Creed at his heels. “Has the Lobo Tech force checked in?” he asked the Specialist on duty.

“No, Sir,” a short dark haired man with the name Tarbull on his green military fatigues replied. “They missed their 0700 deadline.” Tarbull checked a whiteboard across the room, “Last communication was at 1800.”

“What’s their status?”

“They’re holed up in one of their secondary storage facilities and are awaiting further orders.”

Creed snorted and Alpha ignored him as he commanded, “Notify me immediately when they call in.”

“Yes, Sir. There was some interesting information on the San Francisco morning news. I added the pertinent coverage to the disk on your desk.”

Alpha nodded and Tarbull replied with a quick salute, his eyes never leaving Alpha’s face. Creed had already sent two of Alpha’s core staff to the medic for minor wounds and they had learnt wat was better to completely disregard his presence than to inadvertently offend him in any way. They knew it had been more due to Alpha’s physical presence than their importance to the facility that had restrained Creed’s violence.

Alpha turned and headed for his office on the other side of the building with Creed at his heels.

“The X-men--,” Creed began.

Alpha held up a hand, cutting him off until they were both securely in his office and the door shut. “The X-men?” he asked as he took the leather armchair behind the huge metal desk that sat in the center of the room.

Creed grabbed one of the straight-backed wooden chairs that sat before the desk and turned it around before straddling it and resting his arms on the top of the backrest. “The X-men have your Lobo Tech people,” Creed growled. “One of their planes left the Institute at 2115 and returned at 2430. According to my sources, it never left Westchester county.”

Alpha picked up a CD that lie in the center of his desk and read the information scribbled on its face before tilting back in his chair, “When did you learn this?”

“An hour ago.”

Alpha’s chair slammed back down, “Damn it, Vic! Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“What would you’ve done?” Victor Creed shot back with a shrug, “You don’t have any operatives in the area suitable for retrieval or disposal. And there’re few independent operatives who’d dare infiltrate Xavier’s Institute.” He waved his hand in dismissal, “I’ve already ordered someone to check out the sewers and give me an accounting.”

Alpha pursed his lips, “Shit, it finished faster than we expected. Should we up the target date?”

Vic shook his head, “No, some of our people aren’t in position yet and the big guns want explosions, not fireworks. I’ll look into what can be stirred up and keep them off balance.”

“Friends of Humanity?”

Vic frowned in disgust, “Don’t you think we’ve overdone that?”

Alpha shrugged, “The Plague of Flies might not have hurt the Egyptians, but it was still damn annoying.”

Vic smirked, “You’ve got a point.”

Alpha waved the CD in his hands and changed the subject, “A Worthington jet took off from JFK last night. Archangel was on it.”

Vic raised an eyebrow and motioned for him to continue.

“So were Wolverine and two others. The jet filed a flight plan to San Francisco,” he dropped the disk into his computer tray and turned the monitor so Vic could watch the video play. “It tot to see if you can identify either of the unknowns.”

Alpha brought up the disk’s information files and the screen came alive with security camera detail of the JFK airport. Off center was the Worthington jet, approximately two hundred feet from the camera, its lights blinking brightly in the darkness. Vic watched as a taxi pulled up in a corner of the screen and a tall, massive man got out of the front passenger seat, his light colored hair giving a faint gleam in the dim light. His light complexion broke up the darkness as he walked around the back of the taxi. The taillights illuminated him briefly as he made his way around to open the passenger door behind the driver. There was movement in the backseat and the light haired man bent down and quickly came up with someone in his arms. The man turned and his broad shoulders obscured the person in his arms as he walked away from the camera. A shorter, stocky man with dark hair exited the taxi through the open door and put on a cowboy hat before slamming the door shut. As the cowboy dug into his back pocket for his wallet to pay the driver, the taller man had mounted the stairs leading into the jet.

His eyes narrowed in concentration, Vic growled, “Play it again.”

Alpha manipulated the computer mouse and the video began again. After it was finished playing the second time, he stopped the playback and asked, “Who’s the first man?”

“Someone you never want to meet,” Vic replied. “Cable.”

“Cable?” Alpha pulled open a file drawer in his desk, “I thought he was—”

“In Saudi Arabia,” Vic supplied, “tracking down the remains of the Taliban and Al-Queda.”

“Are you sure it’s him? What can he do?” Alpha asked as he pulled a file from the drawer and began to peruse through it.

“I’m sure,” Vic growled. “He’s telepathic, telekinetic, an excellent tactician and knowledgeable in nearly all forms of combat and modern weaponry.”

“Then what the hell is he doing getting on that plane when he’s supposed to be in the Middle East?” anger made Alpha’s voice rough.

“He must have given his handler the slip or I would have been alerted to his change of location,” Vic replied evenly.

“Damn!” Alpha had enough of a glance through the file to realize that Vic was r. H. He dropped the file to his desk. “We needed them to stay in New York. Now we’ve got three—maybe four—seasoned X-men in San Francisco and we don’t know why!”

“He was carrying a woman.”

“What? How do you know?” Alpha hit the play button again and watched the screen.
“I could tell by the shoes. The more important question is why are they carrying her,” Vic explained. “Most of the X-women would be walking under their own power, they wouldn’t have Cable carry them and she didn’t put her arms around his neck which may indicate she’s unconscious.”

“That’s … interesting,” Alpha got a thoughtful look on his face.

“Either Cable picked her up somewhere between Saudi Arabia and JFK or she was at the Institute.”

“Odds are she was at the Institute,” Alpha replied as the video ended and he turned to face Vic. “There is still a possibility that Cable brought her from the Middle East and now that we know who he is, I’ll have our men check it out, but there is an injured female at the Institute who originated from California.” Alpha smiled and took another folder out of his drawer and handed it to Vic, “Someone Archangel and Wolverine would both care about. The woman they took with them to White Plains, Doctor Angelique Green.”

Vic opened the folder and began to flip through the information inside.

“She’s a teacher. Xavier just hired her out of Berkeley. There’s no record of her having any mutations.”

“So Xavier hired a new frail to teach at his Institute,” Vic mused as he looked at the coversheet. “A dancer? Seems Xavier wants a bird with a little more life in her now that he’s had his legs fixed.” Vic came across Doctor Green’s photos. He flipped an enlarged copy of her driver’s license photograph up to reveal a full-page color flyer showing the Free Danz dance troupe in various high school costumes. Doctor Green dressed in a blue and white cheerleader’s outfit, her hair in long blonde pigtails was in the foreground doing the splits, a huge laughing smile plastered on her face as she held matching pom-poms at outstretched angles. Directly beneath her legs, the dates and times that ended three weeks previously, for the musical comedy, “School Daze”, were printed, proclaiming the proceeds would benefit a San Francisco children’s hospital.

Vic’s eyebrows shot up and a sly smile lit his face as he said appreciatively, “I wouldn’t mind checking out her moves either.”

Alpha smirked as realized what Vic was looking at, “I don’t think Xavier’s the one who’s interested in her. The last few reports on Archangel said he was dating a blonde.”

“This isn’t her,” Vic replied as he tore himself away from the picture and went back through the paperwork in the file. “His woman’s an X-man. She goes by the codename Husk. Her real name is Paige Guthrie, the little sister of Samuel Guthrie, Cannonball. They started dating about two weeks ago, after they killed Maximus at the original Lobo Tech conflict.”

“Your information’s more up to date than mine. Who have you been talking to?” Alpha inquired.

Vic looked up from the file, “I had more than one type of surveillance set up. Your people weren’t the only ones watching the X-men. An organization like theirs is too complex to leave to just one group.” At Alpha’s frown, he added reassuringly, “But The Pack was the most thorough in getting me the information I needed.” He closed the file and tossed it onto Alpha’s desk.

“According to our information, Green’s been at the Institute a week,” Alpha said. “She’s the third person to survive the obliteration of the Lobo Tech building. The X-men took them from the site, refusing to hospitalize any of them so most of the information we have is from news reports. Wolverine was seen walking on the grounds Wednesday morning. Thursday morning Archangel and Wolverine got out of a limo and entered the Worthington Building in New York City. When the reporters asked, they refused to say anything about Green except that she was in stable condition.” Alpha picked up the file and laid it on his desk on top of the Cable file.

“The Institute has a better medical lab than most hospitals. They never leave their people in public facilities,” Vic explained. “Do you have anyone in the San Francisco area who can find out where they went?”

“If we keep to the same schedule,” Alpha said hesitantly, “I’ve got some muscle in the area that I can toss your way.”

“Good. Have them find out where they’re staying.”

“Archangel has a penthouse in the downtown area and Green has a residence in Berkeley,” Alpha said making a note on a sheet of paper. “I’ll have them check those first.”

Creed nodded, “What else is on the disk? Your man mentioned something about the news.”

Alpha turned to his computer and brought up another video file. Together they watched a pretty, shorthaired brunette, whom the screen identified as Sherri Anapaku, cheerily speak to the camera, “Also in business news, Warren Worthington, III, the International Playboy and CEO of Worthington Enterprises arrived in the Bay Area last night.” A publicity picture of Worthington in a dark business suit, wings folded behind his back, appeared over her left shoulder. “Although Mr. Worthington is well known for his philanthropy and business acumen, it is said that his participation as Archangel in the International X-Corporation Mutant Task Force has turned his attention away from Worthington Enterprises for far too long and his neglect has led to lower than expected quarterly stock returns.r sor sources tell us that Mr. Worthington’s sudden arrival may lend credence to the rumors that there will be some upheaval in his company’s executive ranks.” The video file ended abruptly.

“Well, that may explain Archangel’s sudden move to the west coast,” Vic commented. “But not Wolverine’s or Cable’s.”

Alpha smiled, “Worthington Enterprises recently hired the security firm, Gulogulo, and gave their personnel complete uninhibited access to all of the Worthington files.”

“Gulogulo is one of Wolverine’s covers,” Vic said.

“Yes,” Alpha replied, “and that would explain his presence.” He leaned forward and tapped the files on his desk, “But not Cable’s.”

Vic nodded and stood up, “I’ll find out what happened in Saudi Arabia.”

Alpha stood also, “Stay here and use my office. The line’s secure. I’ll go tell Tarbull what we need done.”

Vic nodded and waited for Alpha to leave the room before he sat down behind the desk and picked up the phone handset and dialed a number.

When Alpha returned, Vic was very calmly speaking Arabic into the phone, “… When did this happen?”

Alpha turned to go, but Vic motioned for him to come in.

Vic continued speaking into the phone in Arabic, “I want a coded, full report sent to the address I gave you.”

Alpha’s preternatural hearing picked up the Arabic reply on the other end of the line, “It will take some time to find the fleet footed scum off a camel’s ass. When we do, do you want us to hold him for you? I understand you prefer to do your own interrogations.”

Vic smiled evilly and his excessive canines were revealed as a deep chuckle exited his throat. “I can see we have an understanding,” he replied and hung up the phone.

Alpha leaned his hip against the corner of his desk, silently hinting for Vic to leave his chair. He raised an eyebrow, “Well?”

Vic turned the chair and put his booted feet up on the corner almost kicking Alpha in the process. The smile had disappeared and there was a growl in his voice as he said, “Cable killed the men I had watching him, then he located their contact and killed him, too.”

“They’re going to hold someone for you?”

“Sharp hearing for an old dog like you,” Vic said sarcastically.

Alpha crossed his arms over his chest, “I might have aged, Vic, but I’m still Alpha.”

Vic snorted, “Just wait until one of the curs I’ve been training decides to try to take you on.”

Alpha sneered, “You don’t want that to happen. There’d be chaos until the new Alpha was able to prove his authority. It’d take a year at least before The Pack recovered enough to equal what it does now. All current projects would be shot to hell.”

“How do you know I haven’t been grooming someone for your position already?” Vic growled.

“Because, Vic,” Alpha leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, “I know you. You’d rather have the position yourself.”

Vic looked like he was about to come out of the seat and attack Alpha.

“But,” Alpha continued, “That’d never happen. They’d never accept you … because you don’t smell right.”

Vic relaxed and smiled, “I wouldn’t want your mangy mutts anyways. They’re too much damn work!” He stood up and relinquished the leather chair. He pushed past Alpha as he moved to the door, practically shoving him onto the desk.

“Vic!”

He turned, his clawed hand on the door handle, and looked at him impatiently, “What?”

“Cable?”

“Something happened and Cable mind fucked my people,” he growled. “Supposedly, some kid helped him get to an airport where he commandeered a plane. They’re lookin’ for the kid now to find out what he knows.”

“Where are you going?”

“California.”