More Than the X Can See

Chapter 23

“You want me to take him out?” Logan asked, hitting the button on the key ring. The Ford honked and it’s lights flashed to confirm it received the command to lock the doors.

“No,” Nathan replied with a smile. “I have an idea to kill three birds with one stone and get some information while we’re at it.”

“Three?” Angel asked, shutting the door.

The punk looked in their direction using the honking horn as an excuse to actually observe his prey. He saw the tall, older man with short grey hair and the physique of a bodybuilder, a much shorter but no less muscular man with dark hair that almost reached his wide shoulders and a thin woman with long, loose blonde hair that reached past her waist. He’d have no problem keeping track of such an unusual group. They matched the faxes he’d received along with the orders to follow the trio and find out where they went after leaving the Worthington building.

Nathan dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He flipped it open and dialed a number before putting the phone to his ear.

Logan placed his hand on Angel’s back. “Let’s go get some grub,” he said aloud. Quietly, he added, “Keep track o’ the men and cars ‘til Nathan tells ya ta stop.”

There was concern in her voice as she whispered, “I’ve never concentrated this hard for this long. I know, back at the Institute, I told you all that I could do it, but …” She shook her head, “The buildings are one thing. Keeping track of moving vehicles and people, especially long distance.” She sighed tiredly, “I’m not used to this.”

Logan nodded in understanding, “Nathan’s tryin’ ta relieve ya o’ that burden. Just keep it up a li’l while longer.”

“Maybe after the next building we can take a break?” she asked.

“We’ll see how ya feel,” he replied, making no promises. As she moved ahead, leading the way to the restaurant, the wind blew her pheromones into his face and he mentally steeled himself, keeping his body from reacting. Out in the open it was easier to maintain control as thousands of other smells mingled with hers and he could concentrate on picking them out. Her scent had been overwhelming in the closed interior of the truck, but his driving and the knowledge that they were being followed had allowed him to put his own hormones on hold. It would be more difficult to maintain control in the restaurant as they sat next to each other, but Cable said he wanted him to use his sense of smell to help Angel determine if the restaurant harbored any of the terrorists. Her scanning might not turn up any physical evidence they could use, but he might smell the residue of chemicals used for explosives or a scent that might give them an important clue later. Nathan obviously thought this restaurant was important and tied to the terrorists in some way and he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance.

What he needed to do out on the street was keep enough distance between himself and his companions in case they were attacked. It would be careless of him if he didn’t make sure he had enough room to maneuver. He casually looked around, his practiced eye noting the placement of rooftops, doorways, windows and vehicles. He knew Nathan would be doing the same. Like his father, Scott Summers, Nathan was an excellent strategist, but unlike his father, he was unscrupulous in executing his plans using whatever and whoever to further his goals. Being forced to work with SHIELD would give them better resources and at the same time force Nathan and himself to tone down their ruthlessness. Xavier probably saw it as a win-win situation.

He’d agreed with Scott that Angel should’ve stayed at the Institute. She wasn’t combat trained and needed counseling to get her through her recent ordeal not being flown cross-country to possibly face more of the same. Although Xavier had made it look like it had been her decision, it was obvious to him that Charles had influenced her in a weak moment with the talk about the World Trade Center. Then Xavier had made this mission even more difficult for him by ordering him to take care of her. Finding out she’d become a feral and gone into heat added even more complications than he’d care to admit.

Behind them, Nathan was contacting SHIELD. Aware that anyone could pick up a cell phone conversation given the right equipment, all X-men carried cell phones with scramblers. He trusted Xavier to have given SHIELD the codes to the X-men phones, but at the same time he was aware that there were satellites that monitored cell phone conversations. Scrambled conversations could be flagged as could voice imprints. Protocol dictated he use code words, no agent names or key words that would belie their operations. More formal conversations were to be made from dedicated landlines with another scrambler if possible. After several brief conversations with lesser personnel, he was routed to the correct phone. “I don’t like party crashers, George,” he said.

“Nathan, what an unexpected surprise,” came George Washington Bridge’s deep voice. There was an echoing quality to Bridge’s voice and Nathan knew he was on a speakerphone.

“Surprise my ass,” Nathan replied. “Tell your people to go home or do something useful.”

“People? I don’t know what you—”

“Cut the bullshit,” out of the corner of his eye, Nathan saw the Punk head down the street in the same direction they were walking.

“I sent them,” a different voice said, suave and confident. “I’ve been waiting for your call. I was told you had decided to join the festivities instead of having your own private party.”

“I’ll show for the big bash but you didn’t have to send an escort,” Nathan complained. He recognized the voice of Nick Fury, the Head of SHIELD. His eyes began to scan the rooftops of the buildings across the street.

“Your godfather advised me that you have a debutant with you. He wanted me to keep an eye out for her, make sure you don’t lead her astray,” Fury said.

“He already assigned her a chaperone.”

“There are many things I would call him, but chaperone is not one of them,” there was a hidden laughter in Fury’s voice.

“Depends on your definition,” Nathan glanced at Logan, watching him covertly studying their surroundings. Nathan noted that the Punk passed the supposed Reporter and was looking in the windows of the stores on his side of the street, using them as mirrors to monitor their progress. He doubted the Punk even knew what was inside the stores. Angel’s advance warning had alerted them to his presence, but even without it, the way the man constantly looked in the windows practically shouted ‘Tail’. “Right now we’re just getting more appetizers for the party tonight. We don’t need you to hold our hands. We’re big kids we can do things on our own.”

Fury’s voice hardened, “I know the two of you well enough to keep tabs on your whereabouts. Both of you have a history of bringing home unpleasant friends and making a ruckus. The other residents of that … apartment you purchased won’t take very kindly to loud parties. Now that I know you’ll be attending my soiree and following my rules, I’d like to invite you over to my place. It’s not far from where you’re at already. And I feel it would be safer all around.”

Staying at the hotel had fulfilled their immediate need of a place to stay last night and was within a short distance of all the Worthington buildings that had been targeted. He’d thought about moving, but considered their current arrangements to be adequate for the moment. Now, the Punk and Reporter may not be the only ones following them. Fury was right, it would be safer for the innocent civilians in the neighboring hotel rooms if they moved. SHIELD would have a secure location where they wouldn’t have to worry about Tails following them up to their rooms. The only problem would be the accommodations. Angel had specific needs and he wasn’t sure if the SHIELD location could provide them. “I’d like to discuss arrangements,” Nathan replied, accepting Fury’s offer, “We’re heading to lunch. Why don’t you and the boys come down and join us?”

“How did you find them by the way?” Fury asked, referring to the men he’d sent to follow them.

“Rearview mirror.”

“They’re not amateurs,” Bridge said, joining the conversation and dismissing Nathan’s excuse. “And my information shows you haven’t used your talents. Was it the girl?”

“What does it matter how we found out?” Nathan asked. “They weren’t our only escort.”

“Your mirror must have been crowded.”

“It was,” Nathan said dryly. “Besides your boys, we have two party crashers that we were able to pick out. One’s a critic who’s more of an annoyance than a hindrance. The other looks like a local tough. I’d like to find out who sent him.”

Bridge’s voice held a warning, “The critic will be easy enough to remove for the short term, but unless something more interesting comes up, harassing him would just raise suspicion and then he’d be like a dog digging up a bone. We’ll see what we can do about your other problem.”

Angel and Logan had reached the doors to the restaurant and when they looked at him, he waved them inside. “We’re at The Fez restaurant if you’d like to join us. I’ve been told it’s been remodeled recently so I decided to check it out.”

“Interesting,” Fury said, “I’m to busy right now, but I’ll send the boys down. They can tell you about the accommodations at my place.”

“Get a table for six,” Bridge ordered. “The boys’ll pick up the tab since it’s turning into a business lunch.”

“Excellent. We’ll wait for them,” Nathan hung up.

Putting the cell phone back into his pocket, he quickly examined the exterior of the restaurant and surrounding buildings on the street. Like most buildings in San Francisco, they were all sharply rectangular, tall and narrow with flat roofs. It looked like they had been built in the 1930’s or 1940’s when economy of space and building materials had been more important than appearance. The only differences were the heights and colors of the buildings.

At six stories, it was the tallest building on the block. A shiny new plastic sign hung from the front of the building between the fifth and sixth floors, a cylindrical red hat topped by a gold tassel and stylized writing labeled the entire building “The Fez”. From the closed curtains on the upper floors, Nathan guessed it might still be in use as a hotel although he didn’t see a vacancy sign.

Entering the building, Nathan saw that a Middle Eastern gift shop occupied the entire ground floor. On display were several ethnic gifts, most of them typical of what people who had never been to the Middle East expected to find; water pipes, bronze oil lamps and incense holders, Turkish coffee sets, jewelry and clothing in various styles ranging from long tunics and pants to belly dancing outfits made with shiny, faux brass coins. There were also chintzy items found in any tourist trap plus more realistic items such as books and posters of Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Iran. Most of the items gave buyers the fantasy of the Middle East without any of the realism. A sign hanging from the ceiling pointed the way towards stairs and an elevator. Behind the cash register, a large sign proclaimed The Fez restaurant newly opened with meeting and banquet rooms available.

Movement caught his eye and he saw Angel browsing. Logan followed her, apathetically picking up the occasional trinket and turning it in his hands before returning it to its place. Logan had been to the Middle East and knew junk when he saw it.

Since the vehicles had stopped moving Angel only had to keep track of the occupants. She knew when three of the SHIELD agents had left their vehicles and began to approach the building. Assuming Nathan had called SHIELD and they were supposed to be the good guys, she didn’t think it was important to notify him until they were closer. She used her browsing as an excuse to roam around the entire floor of the building. She located security measures and picked up discrepancies in the architecture. She’d need to go up a few more floors to accurately scan the top floors. The floor above was the restaurant, above that were several rooms filled with tables and chairs which were probably the meeting and banquet facilities that were being advertised by the signs behind the register and in front of the stairs and elevator.

Nathan’s eyes followed Angel, but he walked over to stand next to Logan. “Told Nick about our problems,” Logan nodded as Nathan continued. “He offered to let us stay at his place.”

“Ya wanna do that?” Logan asked.

“Not sure, but I agreed to talk to his people. They’ll be eating lunch with us.”

Logan’s eyebrows rose, “You want to discuss that here?” His eyes slid to the smiling young man who had moved from behind the cash register to ask Angel if he could help her in any way.

“It should be safe. I’ll have her tell us if it isn’t,” Nathan whispered his reply confidently, observing Angel and her fawning attendant.

Angel knew the young man was just trying to get her to buy something in the gift shop, but most of what she’d seen didn’t appeal to her. She wasn’t a gullible tourist with money to spend. In fact, now that she thought about it, the only money she had was in her bank account and on her own credit cards. For all she knew, the X Corporation would give her a bill to pay for the outfits she’d bought at the ethnic clothing store. She better ask Nathan about it before they left. She could still return them after lunch if necessary.

“She’s gettin’ tired,” Logan said quietly.

“I thought she said she could do this?” Nathan asked, keeping his voice low, but Logan could hear the anger creeping into it.

“Buildings don’t move an’ she still hasn’t had enough sleep,” Logan explained.

“She still has four buildings to search,” Nathan didn’t waver from the goal he’d set for her. “We need those buildings searched as soon as possible.”

“She didn’t find anything in the first one,” Logan said.

“It’s possible they just haven’t placed it.”

“They may not have placed anything in the others either. Warren said he’d look inta the broken camera in the garage. If a requisition hasn’t been filed or it’s been ‘misplaced’ then we c’n legally suspect someone in charge o’ Security. The grunts would’ve noticed it and at least one o’ them would’ve filed a report o’ some sort.”

“Unless the whole security company is involved.”

“Worst case scenario.”

“According to Warren,” Nathan sighed, “but we’re looking at the bigger picture. Worst case is we find nothing and the shit still hits the fan. Suspecting the security company is just good policy.” His eyes found Angel fondling the belly dancing outfits. It was obvious the sales clerk would love her to try them on. “Should we rescue Angel?”

Logan glanced over at her and the sales clerk, “Naw. Let her buy one of those outfits. She owes me a dance.”

Nathan remembered the note about multicultural dancing in her file. “She knows how to belly dance?”

“Haven’t seen her dance yet, but she’s a certified instructor so I suspect she’s not half bad. Northstar’s the only one who’s seen her in action.”

“Really,” Nathan drawled, a smile raising the corners of his mouth slightly. “She trying to turn him straight?”

As the suspected SHIELD agents neared the doorway, Angel pulled one of the dancing outfits off the rack and made her way over to the two men. Holding it up to her body she said loud enough for the clerk to hear, “What do you think?”

“If you wan’ it, I’ll buy it for ya, but yer gonna have ta dance in it fer me,” Logan told her with a grin.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I might not have enough to pay back Nathan for the other clothes I bought.” Quietly she added, “Three of the badges are coming.”

Nathan smiled and shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. The clothes are yours. The company will pay for them.” He stepped closer to her and whispered into her ear, “SHIELD’s been invited to lunch. You can stop paying attention to them, but I still want you to keep track of the other two.”

“What about this?” she asked shaking the dress, making some of the faux brass coins chime.

Nathan glanced at Logan and spoke in a normal tone of voice, a smirk on his face, “Only if you want it, but I’d prefer you get the blue or green one myself.”

“I’m not dancing for YOU,” she said and turned around intending to place the outfit back on its stand.

Logan grabbed her elbow and spoke quietly, “Neither of us have seen you dance. We’ll need to see what you can do.”

“Why?” she practically hissed.

“No reason to get upset,” Nathan said before he lowered his voice, “I need to know what my people can do.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, the tension leaving her face, “You want me to get one or not?” She had more authentic belly dancing costumes at home, but if they were willing to buy her new ones she could use them for now and then break them down for their materials later.

“Go ahead,” Nathan said.

“Which one?” she asked. “The blue or the green?”

Logan shrugged, “I’ll buy both if ya want.”

“Fine,” she said and putting a smile on her face she walked back to the clerk who was hovering near the clothing rack, waiting to find out what the verdict had been.

As the clerk rung up her purchases, the three SHIELD agents entered the shop. Nathan recognized one of them as the Cowboy they had seen pass them in the truck earlier and he walked over to greet them while Logan paid for Angel’s clothes. The two men accompanying the Cowboy had very short dark hair and tanned skin. They both wore loose dark grey T-shirts with a breast pocket tucked into blue jeans above black Nike shoes. One of them had a small notepad and pen in his shirt pocket. Angel sensed that all three were solid muscle underneath their clothes and combined with their short hair, it reminded her that SHIELD was just another type of military organization. She felt more out of place than ever.

The SHIELD agents just nodded and smiled at Angel and Logan while Nathan led them all towards the stairs. Angel, having been to The Fez before, took the lead up the staircase but soon regretted it as she felt the eyes of the men behind her watching her ass as they ascended to the second floor. She knew that what they were doing was a normal male reaction, but she was more self-conscious knowing she’d become a feral mutant and sending out sexual pheromones. It made her wonder if any of the agents were mutants or, more importantly, feral mutants.

The staircase they had taken was also the emergency stairs and went from ground level to the top of the building. On the second floor landing next to the elevator shaft was the entrance to The Fez restaurant. The upper corners of the doorways had been filled to create shallow domes and the walls had been painted in pale beige with friezes of tile along the ceiling. Large murals of faux windows looked out on courtyard gardens or beautifully painted domed mosques. Strategically placed potted flowers, palm and dwarf fruit trees matching those in the faux windows completed and complimented the Islamic décor.

“Whoa!” Angel exclaimed once she saw the changes that had been wrought on the restaurant. “They really changed the place.”

Another dark haired young man, possibly an older brother to the one in the gift shop by their resemblance, stood near the entrance at a small kiosk. He looked up and smiled at Angel’s exclamation. “Welcome to The Fez. You’ve been here before?” he asked her. His eyes quickly traveled up and down her body, taking note of a lack of rings on her fingers and resting briefly on her cleavage before rising to her eyes.

“Yeah, about six months ago,” she answered.

He nodded and his smile grew wider, “Welcome back. We’ve made some changes since you were here last. You’ve already seen the new gift shop downstairs and here in the restaurant, they’ve removed all the old Casablanca décor including the bar and dance floor and replaced it with a brighter family orientated atmosphere. We now have rooms suitable for business meetings and large parties on the floor above. In a few weeks, the top floors will be finished and The Fez will again be a fully functional Hotel.”

“Oh, wow,” Angel said, “that’s wonderful! Would it be possible to get a tour?”

“The hotel rooms aren’t finished yet,” the host said regretfully. “Only the three bottom floors are open to the public for safety reasons.”

Angel nodded affably, apparently easily dismissing the inability to view the rooms upstairs. “Did you change the menu, too?”

“Not by much. We have the same staff as before so if you had a favorite meal and it’s not on the menu, they can still make it for you.” He pulled several menus from within the kiosk and, finally paying attention to the men he asked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask, but are you all together?”

“Yes,” Nathan answered. “You said you have meeting rooms upstairs. How big are they?”

“Our smallest rooms fit ten people comfortably and we can provide materials such as whiteboards or overhead projectors for an additional fee. Our largest rooms are suitable for groups up to fifty. All the rooms have connecting doors so we can accommodate just about any size group, but we request advance notice for anything over twenty.” He looked inside the kiosk again, “I have a pamphlet—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Nathan cut him off. “Could we use one of the smaller rooms right now?”

“Yes, if you’d like,” he said. “There are extra fees—”

“That’s fine,” Nathan interrupted.

Without missing a beat, their host said, “Follow me.” He led the way up the stairs to the next floor.

Logan grabbed Nathan’s arm and held him, allowing the others to get ahead of them. “You sure about this?” he asked under his breath.

Nathan whispered, “I want Angel to get a good look around.” Logan couldn’t fault his logic, being on the second floor and unable to wander the restaurant at will was entirely different from being on the third floor with unlimited access to the entire length of the building. Even if there were cameras and listening devices in the walls of the conference rooms, Angel would still be able to do her job. He let go of Nathan’s arm and they caught up to the rest of the group at the head of the stairs.

It was obvious the owners of the hotel hadn’t changed the layout of the rooms when they decided upon the function of the third floor. Long hallways separated blocks of rooms where all the doors stood open waiting for occupants. Angel could sense where they had knocked out or built walls to enlarge or shorten the rooms. Architecturally speaking, the building was still structurally sound since they hadn’t tried to remove any of the major supports. A metal gate and Do Not Cross construction tape barred the stairs up to the fourth floor.

Their host led them to a small room just off the landing. It was decorated in the same style as the restaurant. It held a central table that could easily accommodate ten people, fourteen if they pushed it plus a narrow table that lay against the far wall. Both tables were covered with white tablecloths.

After they had all filed into the room, their host asked Nathan, “Would you like a coffee or tea service brought up?”

“Coffee,” Nathan said as he sat down in the seat at the far end of the table.

Their host waited until they were all seated before he started handing out the menus. He noticed in passing that the short man with the cowboy hat led the woman to sit to the right of the businessman while the others sat across from them. “If you like,” he said, “I can take your drink orders now.”

“Coffee,” Nathan repeated.

“Yes, sir,” their host replied, “I’ll have the service brought up, but is there anything else?”

“Water?” Angel asked.

“Certainly,” he replied.

“You need caffeine,” Logan murmured to Angel.

“And a Diet Pepsi?” Angel added.

“Yes, Miss.” He glanced back and forth between the men who hadn’t announced a choice, “Anything else?” When they shook their heads negatively, he said, “I’ll have your server bring up a coffee service, some pitchers of water and Diet Pepsi for the lady.” He left the room, leaving the door open behind him.

For a few moments the X-men and SHIELD agents eyed each other before Nathan asked, “Angel? Are we private?”

She took a moment to make sure she didn’t sense any listening devices before she replied, “The only security cameras on this floor are at both ends of all the hallways and on the landing.”

“Nothing in this room?” he pressed.

“As far as I know,” she said with a smile.

“Excellent,” Nathan said. “Before our waiter shows up we better introduce ourselves.” He turned to the SHIELD agents, “You know our names and what we can do. Who are you?”

SHIELD agent Chase, pushed his cowboy hat back on his head and asked, “Name’s John Chase and we don’t know what SHE can do.”

“If we stick together long enough or your superior tells me you have clearance, I’ll tell you,” Nathan replied.

“Steve Adams,” said the man with the notebook and pen in his pocket. He had blue eyes and a dimple in his chin as if a child had pressed a finger into it and it had stayed depressed.

“Luke Mills,” the last agent said. He had brown eyes and a definite American Indian cast to his features including a hawk-like nose.

“As for clearance,” John said with a smile, “we’re part of a special division specifically created to handle out of control domestic situations.”