He heard footsteps,murmured voices around him,and when he tried to move he felt something holding holding him down,cold metal around his wrists,ankles,chest.Scott vaguely remembered his capture,although things seemed so fuzzy he wasn't completely sure what had occurred."Who are you people?"He asked.His own voice seemed far away to him."What do you want with me?"

No one answered.They went on talking amongst themselves like they hadn't heard him at all.They seemed to be talking about chemical levels and response times,things Jean would understand better than he would.Medical tests,they were conducting medical tests on him...medical experiments.Experiments like what they did to Logan?

His heart began to pound so hard he thought he might be having a heart attack.Suddenly he wanted to tell them where Logan was-he would tell them anything if they would just let him go.

But it wasn't going to be that easy.They weren't going to let him go until they were through with him.They never let Logan go, did they?"What are you doing to me?"He asked,tried to squelch he panic in his own voice as he felt a needle pierce the skin of his right arm.

But there was no answer,and he could feel the new drug start to wash over him like a warm wave that left numbness in its wake.He tried to fight it,fight against the restraints,but it didn't do any good.He was trapped,and falling away inside himself, and all he could hope is that what they planned to do to him wasn't as bad as what they did to Logan.

"Well,I figured the next time I saw you,it'd be you tyin' up loose ends,"Srina said,as if it was the most patently obvious thing in the world."I mean I do know too much."

"Like what?"He wondered,adding,"I know too little.Maybe we can meet in the middle."

She shrugged."Well,before I launch into any long recitations,I'm gonna sit down.Grab a beer if you want."She said,sidling past him,going back to the living room and never quite turning her back on him.

He thought he might need the fuel,so he did take a beer from the fridge,and followed her out.She was splayed casually on her worn blue sofa,in the far corner closest to the living room window so she could bask in the small square of available sunlight. There was a wicker chair that looked like a cast off from Ricardo Montalban's garage sale,but it was the only seat around,so he sat in it,and it crackled under his weight like a pile of leaves that had just caught fire.But it held his weight,for now-one sudden move and he was sure it would fall to pieces.

"So why'd you invite me home if you thought I was gonna kill you?"He wondered,carefully opening his beer.He didn't want that simple act to collapse the chair.

"You'd find me anyways,"she replied,seemingly untroubled by it."You knew where I lived-well,so I thought-and you're the only one I know who can see through my guise."

"I couldn't see you."

"But you knew I was there,didn't you?"

He had to give her that."I could still hear you,and smell you.Avoid the salmon next time."

"Will do.But you kinda catch me no matter what,unless I'm really careful and downwind.Those enhanced sense of yours.Real pissers.Besides,you're like a Mountie,aren't ya?"

"Huh?"

She gave him a smart ass grin."Always get your man.Or woman,in this case."

He wanted to shift,the hard edge of the chair was really digging into his thighs,but he didn't dare.But then again,why would she buy reinforced furniture on the off chance a guy with a metal skeleton would drop by for a drink."If I didn't kill you back then,I don't see why I would now,"he admitted,as the CD player switched over to Alice In Chains.

A strange look came over her face,softening it,making her look even younger."I think you were supposed to,but you didn't.I didn't really understand why:I mean,I figured you were an assassin,a hard nosed-well,bodied-killer,once it was too late to back out of our little fling,but then you started acting funny from time to time.If you were brainwashed or something and it wasn't sticking,if you were starting to come out of it,that explains a lot."

"Come out of it?What do you mean?"He then made himself stop,and shook his head."No,wait,first things first.Who was I after,did I get them,and was the club Hell involved?"

She sat up a bit."Hell?Wow,that name brings back memories.You remember that?"

"Not really."

"Huh.You told me you got there too late,and the next thing I heard was there was a big fire and the place was shut for structural damage."

"Too late?Too late for what?"

She shrugged a single shoulder,settling back down on the couch."To save the 'so called normals'.As I told you, you weren't the open and sharing type.You wouldn't even tell me what your nightmares were about."

He could now,but he decided he wasn't going to talk about that,not at the moment at any rate.What he couldn't help wonder is if there was a grain of truth to his seemingly sarcastic 'so called normals' answer.

After Bob,he was willing to believe anything.

**

With facts and figures in his hands,Burton was a much more composed and articulate fellow;it seemed he always needed a firm crutch on which to lean his conversations on.

Control sat down,figuring he was in for something long winded,but that was okay since he wasn't missing much.In the room below,Summers was out cold on a restraining table,the drugs from the last experiment having hit him really hard.He could have been just any guy on a table in a blindingly white room if it wasn't for the shackles,or the lead covered ruby quartz goggles covering his eyes."So,how good of an experiment will he be?"He asked Burton,figuring anyone had to be an improvement over the frustratingly recalcitrant and mutable Wolverine.

"Overall,a suitable one.He is within normal Human parameters for strength,immune response,reflexes,resiliency,and pain tolerance,"Burton replied crisply,almost sounding like a different person."He is pretty much a healthy Human being."

"Except he shoots death rays out his eyeballs."

"Yes,except for that."

"What is that about?"

"Well,as far as we can tell,he's sort of like a walking solar battery.His body automatically converts visible spectrum radiation into a more tangible,concentrated form,just like our bodies convert sunlight into vitamin D."

"But,like us,he has no control of it."

"Right,and there's no upper limit-well,that we can tell so far-of how much energy he can store.He can also pull it from seemingly dim sources,such as moonlight."

"What about infrared?"

"Tests are inconclusive at this point.But he is,for all intents and purposes,a walking laser cannon."

Control sat forward,resting his forearms on the control panel (there was a joke in there somewhere),and tapped his fingers against a cool glass monitor as he looked down at the white room,which was so full of visual spectrum radiation you could probably get yourself a nice instant tan,or at least brown some potatoes.But according to the monitors,over a dozen of which were spread out along the half moon shaped control station,Summers-Cyclops,apparently-was 'charging',his body instantly converting and accumulating this energy for later usage.Maybe,if you kept him in a dark underground pit for eighteen months or so,he'd have no energy to shoot.He'd probably also be blind and completely insane.But if exposed to light again,there would probably be nothing keeping him from charging up again.Control looked between the monitors,showing graphs that meant nothing to him,fluctuating numbers that could have belonged to the Japanese stock market index,and asked what he knew might well be a rhetorical question:"What's the logic in this mutation?"

"Mutations aren't always logical,"Burton replied easily."Remember that mutant who could do nothing but control the swimming patterns of fish?I'm still trying to work out the point of that one."

"True."That was a weird one.Back at base,they liked to refer to him as 'Mermaid Boy'.He didn't live very long,as he had no use for them.

"I mean,Logan's mutation was logical up to a point:he was the epitome of the selfish gene,the body keeping itself alive at all costs.But what was the purpose of the claws?"He paused for a moment,then said a quiet,"Oh."

"What?"

"Why does a cat have claws?Self defense."As they both mulled that over,Burton added quietly,"But I still don't get that whole fish thing."

"Having an ability like Summers down there would make more sense than claws self defense wise,don't you think?"

Burton considered that,his pale lips twisting in a grimace."Maybe,but it would be overkill.Logan has more keeping him alive than the claws.But if you're going to have just the one thing,it may as well be big,right?"

Control nodded.That made sense,from an evolutionary standpoint.Maybe."How easy will he be to control?"

"Very.Our telepath reports almost no resistance.He's used to having a telepath in his mind."

He gave Burton a curious glance."Oh?"

"His girlfriend,from what they've been able to determine."

So,even though he was a walking death ray,he still managed to swing a girlfriend?That was something.More than Logan could do.Well,no,Logan apparently had at least one wife,but she kicked the old bucket right quick.That sort of thing happened when you married dangerous freaks.

"Get to work reconditioning him,"he said,glancing down at the monitors like he understood a damn thing they were saying."I want to have a little surprise ready for Logan when he comes for his friend."

"Absolutely,sir,"Burton agreed,almost eagerly-well,at least for him.

Control sat back in the chair,feeling rather pleased with himself.He'd never been in control of a cannon before,nonetheless a laser cannon.This was going to be interesting.

**

Srina took a swig of her soda before she even decided to answer,and even then he had a feeling she was hedging somewhat."I wish I could tell you.You indicated he was rogue,and referred to him only as 'the target'.All nice and ominous like."

"A rogue?"Logan repeated,feeling a cold chill inside.A 'rogue' agent-a fellow mutant who had escaped the Organization?And he hunted him down like a dog.Jesus,things just kept getting worse and worse.What if he was one of the good guys,and he had slaughtered him like cattle?

But if that were true,what of the Hell massacre?Where did that fit into any of this?

"Did I get him?"He asked,afraid he knew the answer already.

"They called you back,or so you said.I assumed you did."She sat forward,placing her can of Coke on the floor,and said,"It's funny-that was the freakiest week and a half of my life,and I barely remember any of it."

He looked at her wearily,feeling the exhaustion he had fended off earlier,and realized with no surprise at all that she was lying to him.She was holding something back.He wasn't completely sure yet if she was friend,foe,or someone who could go either way,depending on the circumstances and/or what was in it for her.But then again,wasn't that true of most people?

There were no saints,only varying degrees of sinners.

"You look exhausted,"she said,with some sympathy."Where are you staying?"

'Why-so you can send in the troops',he thought,but he kept it to himself."Around,"he offered,adding nothing further.

There was a moment of awkwardness as she realized he was stonewalling (did she know why?),then she said,"You could stay here.Mi casa is your place,or however that goes:my Spanish sucks."

"Are you still afraid of me?"

She gave him a rather sharp look."What makes you think I was ever afraid of you?"

Over compensation-she didn't want to admit it.And had there been a touch of anger there?Why couldn't he ever have a normal relationship with a woman-why?Why did they always have to be these angsty life and death things?It was him,wasn't it?It had to be;he just didn't know why.

But then again,when he met he,he was a mindfucked cold blooded killer-and how could she have not known?It pretty much begged the question what the hell was she."You don't really know me,"he pointed out."Any more than I know you."

"Maybe that's for the best-fresh start and all that."

He suddenly remembered a slightly tasteless joke about the 'great thing' about having Alzheimer's disease-you meet new people every day.He smirked at the joke,thinking it could also apply to amnesiacs like him."What's so funny?"She wondered, not quite annoyed with him but on the verge.

Her 'running into' him like that was not a coincidence;of that he was sure.But he didn't know what she was playing at,or who for.He did know he was very tired,and threatening her seemed pointless."Me,"he told her,carefully getting up from the chair. "You,us.I know you're holding out on me,Srina.What-"

It was then his back pocket started to ring.

It startled him slightly,because he had completely forgotten about the cell.Well,he didn't want one-why would he remember having one?

Srina was giving him an odd,measuring look,as if wondering if he was still on the payroll after all.This was a Mexican standoff of trust issues-neither one of them was willing to do it,and he supposed they both had good reasons.

As he pulled the cell out,it suddenly occurred to him no one had the number,except Bob of course.While the idea was irritating, it also occurred to him Bob could actually help him out here:he could make Srina talk.

He pulled it out and after figuring out how to answer the damn thing,snapped into the phone,"Yeah,what is it?"

It was amazing how quickly things could go from bad to worse.

**

New York

It was still day,but overcast,giving you the false impression the sun wasn't as dangerous as it was.She was careful to stay far from the door,and now out of Logan's view,at least for now.This was no place to spring the final trap-not in public,at any rate.

She watched him carefully as he sidled up to the bar,but rather than order his ubiquitous beer,he asked the grizzled bartender about maybe seeing a guy with weird red sunglasses lately.He was hunting for 'Cyclops'.

Perfect.

The bartender couldn't help him,of course,and Logan seemed to hunch inside his leather jacket,as if he was trying to physically bottle up the frustration of searching for his so called 'friend',who seemed to have fallen off the edge of the Earth.
As soon as it looked like he was heading out the door,she quickly went out the back,where the broken fire exit door led into a trash littered alley that reeked of piss from the drunks who decided this was as good a toilet as any.Humans were such pigs.

She followed the dark,semi-sheltered alley to the darkened mouth,and waited until she saw his familiar shadow falling her way (who else had pointy hair?),and heard the familiar cadence of his footsteps.She might have only encountered him once,but it was enough for her to glean the little oddities as well as the more obvious ones.He walked like a panther,with rolling shoulders and heavy yet somehow graceful steps,like he weighed about two hundred pounds more than he looked,yet still could,if need be,defy gravity at a moment's notice.He seemed to be stuck in a terminal ready to fight posture that she recognized from some of the more paranoid vampires she had encountered.Logan's regenerative abilities must have kept him from burning out.

Someone was singing under their breath:"Someone was round here askin' questions about someone who looks like you;I told them I don't know where you are-"

That couldn't be Logan,could it?No-he didn't even look like the humming type.But then again,maybe he was pleased the freak was out of the way.

"Looking for someone?"She asked,not quite peeking around the corner.

The singing stopped,and so did Logan.As he neared,she backed up farther down the alley,deeper into darkness.

She saw his silhouette at the mouth of the alley,head cocked to the side as if studying her for weapons.She got that a lot."Do you know somethin' about this,vamp?"He growled,stepping carefully into the alley.He seemed to keep glancing around,as if expecting a trap.But it wasn't that kind of trap,the fucking moron.

"Maybe,but you don't expect me to give you the info for free,do you?"She made sure to keep out of arm's reach of him.She knew about those claws.

He snorted derisively,and managed to sound like an angry bull."What do ya want?"

"A trip to Disneyland,"she snapped."Money,honey-what do you think?"

He stopped moving towards her,although he continued to study her like she was a particularly fascinating paramecium."That's a very plausible lie,Moira,but I think we both know this is a set up."

It was her turn to pause."How do you know my name?"She asked,as a very bad feeling overcame her.He shouldn't know her name-how could he know her name?Unless...

"See me as I really am,"Logan said,and suddenly he wasn't Logan anymore.He was-

-holy shit.

It was the goddamn fucking Drai'shajan,standing there with his hands in the pocket of his jeans,his electric blue eyes almost lambent in the growing dimness.She meant to run,but of course it was too late for that:she couldn't move."You were playing a dangerous game,Moira,"he warned,his voice no longer Logan's flat monotone but his own slightly lilting Australian accented voice."You knew I could get involved,yet you risked it anyways.You have no one but yourself to blame."

Although she couldn't move,he hadn't grasped her mind completely yet."Bite me,fuckwad."

He shook his head and sighed."You know you're the only one who bites around here."She then felt something akin to a mental vice squeeze her mind,and he said,"Now tell me what's going on-who has Summers and why."

She wanted to tell him to get bent,but of course she couldn't.She found herself spilling her guts in spite of herself,and couldn't help but wonder what he was going to do with her after he got what he wanted.

**

What he did not consider was that Logan's own personal entropy field had inadvertently caught Scott up in it.And all because of a bitter vampire who just wanted to see someone hurt.

It would have been easier if the government had grabbed Scott in lieu of Logan,because he knew exactly where the government office was.But it sounded like the real deal covert super secret (super evil) assholes had grabbed him,which complicated things."Where are they?"He asked her.

"I don't know,"she admitted."It was a need to know basis,and they didn't think I needed to know.Bastards."

"So how is Logan supposed to go to them?"

"They said they'd leave clues that he would recognize."

"Like what?"

She shrugged."Need to know."

Well,they were smart enough not to trust a vampire-that wasn't good.But clues Logan would recognize?What could those be?
"Do you know what they're doing to Scott?"

"No."

"Do you know what they plan to do to Logan once they spring the trap?"

"No."

She had pretty much given him all the information she could;these Org guys (Ogres,he couldn't help but think) had enough demon experience (seemingly) to know not to give her vital information.At least they were aware of demons now.Bully for them.

He knew he should call Logan back now,but the Ogres had a trap specifically in mind for him (and if Scott had been scanned by telepaths-an obvious assumption-they were probably preparing for the rest of his 'friends'),and he didn't want him getting caught.Handing himself over to the bad guys worked once,but they couldn't count on it working again.

Besides,Bob had a sinking feeling Scott might be more than just bait,but he wasn't going to mention that to the others,not yet. Jean would probably freak out,thinking they were doing to Scott what they did to Logan,but he knew they wouldn't.Logan was a special case,probably an operative that they felt 'betrayed' them in some way (probably by leaving),so his transformation into a walking switchblade was as much punishment as experimentation:Logan had to be put in his place,reminded who was boss (which would also explain Logan's almost knee jerk rejection of all authority figures-it was a learned behavior after the abuse he suffered at their hands),a tool for them to use at their discretion and absolutely nothing more.Of course,that didn't work for long-your two basic reactions to torture were rebellion or acquiescence,and they should have known from his personality profile that they could torture him all they wanted-which they obviously did-but he wasn't going to remain broken forever;he would rebel,because he always did.He was just that kind of stubborn,pigheaded bastard.And more power to him for it.

They had no grudge against Scott.He was just another mutant to them,a potential weapon to exploit.Since he had a pretty significantly destructive mutant power already,there was probably nothing they could do to augment it.All they could do was telepathically brainwash him into thinking he was whatever they wanted him to be.And since he had no regenerative powers to speak of,nor was his mind a battle scarred,fucked over wasteland like Logan's,there'd be no problem with the transition either.

Not that it mattered in the long run.As soon as he found Scott,all bets were off:their precious brainwashing would be gone,and they'd be back to square one.

But finding Scott-now that was the problem.

"I'd love to love you,but I'm doomed and you're an angel,"he started singing under his breath,forgetting what he had been singing before.

He started to walk away when he remembered he was leaving Moira just standing there in a daze.He glanced over his shoulder at her,and wondered if there was any hope for her.No,probably not."Stake through the heart,"he said dismissively,turning away before he heard her shriek,barely aware of the ashes of her being blown around his feet by the rising wind.

He had been in Logan's mind.Somehow,he was going to have to think like Logan,and try to be open to those cryptic clues that should be coming his way.Perhaps he already had his first clue and he didn't even know it yet.

Man,what a pisser.

"Well,fuck you too asshole,"a woman's voice snapped back at him from the phone,her clipped British accent making the cursing almost comical."Fucking wanker."

Logan was momentarily bewildered,then he guessed,"Ruby?"

There was a long and seemingly irate pause."No,it's the bloody Queen.Exactly who are you expecting to call,genius?"

He now knew why Bob hesitated to call her a friend. "Are you calling for a reason,or just to abuse me?"

"Isn't that a reason?"She shot back.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes."Maybe you should call back after your Prozac."

"Just shut the fuck up and listen,"she carped."I was able to dig up some information for you,but you'll have to come and get it, and be quick about it."

"Why don't you just tell me?"

She scoffed."Oh yes,I have absolutely nothing better to do.Get down to Tussaud's,and I mean now.Go around to the back, someone will let you in."

"Where the hell is-"he began,but she had already hung up.

With a sigh,he shut the phone and shoved it in his back pocket.Srina was still giving him that curious "now what" sort of look, and although he did not want to bring a potential foe into this,there was no way in hell he was calling Ruby back."Do you know where Tussaud's is?"

She blinked rapidly,almost doing a double take."The wax museum?A ways from here.Why?Do you have a burning desire to see the royal family in wax?"

He scowled at her,brows sinking low over her eyes."I'm supposed to meet someone there."

"Why?"

He shrugged and shook his head."Bob knows."

She cocked her head to the side,curious."Don't you mean 'god knows'?"

"Same difference."

Her curious look didn't abate;it just got worse."Huh?"

He didn't have time for this."Can you take me there?"

She frowned at him,but decided to quit while she was ahead."Yeah,sure,let's go."She got up and retrieved her new leather coat from the stand.As she shrugged it on,she asked,"A spy friend?"

"No.A friend of a friend,who is not only not a spy,but she sounds like a royal bitch."

"A relative then?"She suggested,with a smile and a twinkle in her eye.

He frowned at her,but he had to admit-mentally if not aloud-that that was a good one."Very funny.Can we just go?"

She pulled out a tiny remote control that she used to turn off the CD player,then tossed it on a small side table bearing a transparent telephone (well,you could still see the neon colored guts),and a small silver framed photo of Srina with an older East Indian woman, probably her mother.They had the same nose,and looked the same around the eyes (although hers were brown,not violet).

Srina held the door open,and gestured towards the hall."Age before beauty,"she teased.

He gave her a teeth baring sarcastic grin,and headed out,wondering what he was walking into.

**

There was an 'employee's entrance ' around the back,and when they tried the door,it was open.Logan was instantly suspicious and took a deep breath,but the smells of paraffin,paint,and dust almost made him dizzy.There were people here,but not many.
People,and...what was that smell?It smelled familiar somehow.

He led the way into a darkened back room,where various wax body parts were strewn about like a tour group had had a horrible accident with an airplane propellor,and wax statues were covered with heavy shrouds along the right side walls,lurking like forgotten,apathetic ghosts.

There was no waiting for them here,so they walked out into the heart of the building.

He could hear noises of tools in use-the banging of hammers,the sounds of wood being cut with saws-and the combination of sawdust and regular dust almost made him sneeze.

He moved through the dimly lit,labyrinthine halls,away from the Cockney workmen and towards the almost familiar scent, which was starting to bug him because it was the equivalent of a word on the tip of your tongue that you could never quite get out.

"Do you know where we're supposed to go?"Srina whispered,as if they were breaking and entering.Well,okay,in a way they had...but the door was open.No breaking had been involved.

"Not really,"he admitted."I just think I smell something...familiar."

"Familiar?Were you raised in a candle shop?"

He ignored that."No,it's a human smell...but not."

"What,you mean mutant?"

"No.Demon maybe."

"Demon?"She scoffed."That a slang term for a smelly bastard?"