"The Blood Of Others"

Author: Notmanos

E-mail: notmanos at yahoo dot com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The characters of Angel are owned by 20th Century Fox and Mutant Enemy; the
character of Wolverine is also owned by 20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics. No copyright
infringement intended. I'm not making any money off of this, but if you'd like to be a patron of the
arts, I won't object. ;-) Oh, and Bob is *my* character - keep your hands off!

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The pawn shop had a large display window-not covered with a metal grating to prevent a smash and grab robbery,which was the most obvious hint this was a bad guy's establishment (anyone stupid enough to steal from a major bad ass didn't live to do it again)-with the usual suspects of pawn shops in it:stereos,guitars,a new looking drum kit,but what obviously had caught Scott's attention was a large...totem?...set off to the far right of the display.A single column of some dark wood,it had three similar looking elongated,ugly,and definitely inhuman faces carved into it,their strangely long mouths frozen open in what could have been screams of horror or of rage:it was really hard to tell.

Helga stared at this hideous artifact for a moment,then said,"I think that's a Lerkadian death plinth."

"Is it typical for pawn shops to have those?"Scott asked,and looked directly at him.

"What are you looking at me for?"Logan snapped,ticked off that the little twerp would associate him with a pawn shop.

"Ah,"Helga said,an aside apropos of nothing,until Logan noticed her looking down at what he had smelled so strongly earlier -a cigarette butt still smoldering in the gutter at their feet.A weird find on a supposedly deserted street.

Scott frowned,as Logan hissed under his breath,"We're surrounded."

Logan almost jumped when he heard Xavier's voice say,right behind him,"It's not too late to call this off."

He had no idea his telepathy could extend so far-but he had said he was going to be 'monitoring' the situation.Maybe he was in that Cerebro thing.'No,'Logan thought,wondering if Xavier was picking him up.'You didn't actually think I'd consider giving up,did you?'

'No,you're not really the type.'Logan could swear he heard a twinge of humor in his 'voice'.'But I had to ask.'

"Where are they?"Scott whispered,trying to pretend he was casually glancing around at nothing.

"Roofs,hidden in abandoned buildings,"Logan whispered in reply,tensing for the fight.He intended to take out as many as he could.The wind shifted,and the smell of exhaust became more acute."They have a vehicle idling one street over,waiting for a cue."

"How many people are we talking about here?"

Logan glanced at Helga,who shrugged."Two dozen?"

Logan nodded."At least.And not all people."

There was dark movement on the roof of one of the condemned buildings across the street,and Scott raised a hand to the side of his visor and fired,a red burst of energy hitting the front edge of the roof and making it collapse inward,taking the people there with it.

Logan saw a brief red flash of light out of the corner of his eye-too small and harmless to have come from Scott-and in reflex he tackled Scott and threw them both out onto the street as a couple of high powered bullets hit the wall and sidewalk,cracking concrete and shattering bricks,sending pulverized bits of mortar raining down on them as Helga pulled her own gun and fired back at the sniper.She must have hit him because he only fired back once before falling silent.

"Thanks,"Scott said,twisting around on the street and firing another beam of red light at a group of men that suddenly appeared in a dark alleyway,not even bothering to get up.The beam was wide enough to take all the men down,but Logan knew he'd just knocked them out when he should have just fried the bastards.

There was a strange noise,like the sounds of bullets fired through silencers,and as Logan rolled up to his feet and popped his claws,something buzzed past him at eye level while Scott let out a small grunt of pain as he got to his feet and fired another shot at another group of would be assailants.

But there were too many of them,and most of the humans were already out of the fighting,leaving the demons,who must have been the most dangerous ones.

Logan kicked one warty looking guy in the stomach,sending him flying backwards,while he lashed out a claw at some guy with Angel's unfortunate and occasional facial features:yellow eyes and fangs.His claws neatly sliced through his neck,and to Logan's surprise he let out an inhuman shriek and exploded into dust before his head could hit the ground.Wow,they really did explode!

He lashed out at a grey skinned demon,and his claws pulled away dry chunks of...rock?A demon made of rock?

Scott made a strange noise and dropped to one knee on the street,and he hissed,"Damn it."Logan stabbed another ugly mother through the gut,and then turned towards Scott,to find he was holding up what looked like a small,hollow dart."Think it's fatal?"

Not bullets-drug darts.Or poison darts.Shit,what if it was full of whatever Krek secreted?

Kicking a Ressik in the face,Logan thought,'If you can still hear me,Professor,get Bob here now,or the teacher's pet is toast.'

Helga had taken care of the stone boy,literally-Logan noticed his head rolling down the street like a medicine ball,but his bulky body remained standing and swinging until she took his legs out from under him.He hit the asphalt like a ton of bricks.

Logan just let his bloodlust and rage take over:he slashed out blindly,hitting everything that moved,ripping flesh of a dozen different varieties,slicing through bones of various densities,splattering at least a half dozen different types of blood,most of which now colored the street like a Jackson Pollack canvas.He became nothing but this empty vessel servicing his own rage,nothing but the weapon he was made to be,and there was a liberation in the total insanity of it,in the simple,pure animal savagery of it.

In the back of his mind,he was aware there were no more red beams stabbing out,and he knew Scott was down,possibly for good this time,leaving only Helga and him to hold off the horde.Not that there was much of a horde left:he and Helga were cleaning house,and their biggest,ugliest guys fell without giving much in the way of a struggle.

There was one man,standing on the far sidewalk,not taking part in the fray at all.He had caught some of Logan's more intelligent mind because he set off all sorts of alarm bells.

As a human or demon he looked odd:his body seemed too long,his limbs seemed too long,and his hair was like a spiky wire brush that stood up from his scalp like a rooster's comb.He wore a tattered overcoat that had seen better decades,a t-shirt advertising something call the 'Buzzkill Cafe',and,tellingly,thick black sunglasses,even though it was not only night,but there were no working streetlights on this block.He should have been effectively blind.

But he was watching.Logan knew he was watching.And waiting for his chance.

Every now and then Logan heard shots from somewhere far beyond the crowd,took some hard body blows that hurt like hell,but it just fueled his rage,which was like an all consuming fire in his blood that made Krek's poison seem weak and impotent by comparison.Anger was a fire and it could eat you alive,burn you to cinders;you could self-destruct and be your very own funeral pyre.

Helga went flying,double teamed by something and tossed into the brick fronted wall of one of the buildings,nearly hitting the ghoulish man.At the same time Logan kicked one of his opponents towards him,hoping to knock that bastard down and get him to move.

The ghoul dodged the heavy body of the Ressick,but it still clipped him and knocked off his sunglasses,and Logan saw the strangest thing he had ever seen.Well,so far tonight.

He had compound,multifaceted eyes-like a fly-that seemed to bulge out of their sockets like the holes in his skull were simply not big enough to contain them.His wide pink slash of a mouth gaped open in a sickly smile,and he looked like a snake preparing to unhinge its jaw and swallow its prey whole."I really want to try you Wolverine,I really do,"he said,and it was easy to hear him now that the crowd had thinned a great deal.Well,thinned in a 'still capable of being upright' sense."But I don't know if even you can come back from your flesh being melted off.Can you,big boy?Huh?What do you think,Claws?"

"Bring it on,string bean,"he snarled,surprised to find he had almost forgotten how to speak.He had retreated so far back into his animal brain,it was almost difficult to climb back out.

He lunged at him,and only after he had done so did he realize that the ghoul's hand had been in the pocket of his tattered overcoat the whole time.He had time to think 'what's he got in there' before he pulled it out and fired.

Logan just saw something blue,almost the color of Bob's eyes,before it hit him with a sharp crack,and Logan tasted electricity in his mouth as energy screamed down his nerves and seemed to freeze his muscles,hardening them to stone.

He crashed to the fissured macadam,his body as insensate as a statue but goddamn it was still hurting,the fire moving down his nerves like a fuse had been lit,and he saw the ghoul's ugly,diseased looking face looming over him,a leering sneer on his strange and homely mouth."Oh,ouch,that looked like it hurt,"the ghoul said,his leer widening."But I bet this hurts more."

And the skin of his long,pale throat seemed to move.

But not for long.A whipcord thin green tail suddenly wrapped around his throat and yanked him violently away,and judging from the heavy thud that followed,he had been introduced rather emphatically and at great speed with the wall behind him.Now that really had to hurt.

He heard the screech of a large vehicle's brakes nearby,a van most likely,and was aware of people around him-mostly humans by the smell-but his vision was now fading away,everything around him becoming a dark blur.His arms were pinioned painfully behind his back,and he felt cold metal slapped on his wrists,most likely adamantium,and tightened until they bit into his skin.Two guys then grabbed him by the upper arms and tried to lift him,but he was much heavier than he looked,and it caught the guys kind of short judging from their painful grunts.So they dragged him to the van,probably ripping skin off his legs,but he was past caring about such things.He had bigger problems at the moment.

He was pulled unceremoniously into the back of the van,and realized his vision was gone now as he heard the doors slam and saw no change in visible light.He hoped Helga was all right;he had no idea what had happened to her after she sent that ghoul into the wall.

His consciousness was ebbing away,but he smelled nothing but humans back here with him,all flop sweat and cheap after shave,cigarettes and gun oil.

The last thing Logan heard was someone flipping opening a cell phone and punching up a number.When someone picked up,the man,who had a heavy Bronx accent,simply said,"We have him."

He wondered what they'd say if he said he actually had them.

Jean was so eager to get there,they almost arrived on top of the van that sped Logan away.Bob could see her tense as they saw the unmarked black van scream around the corner a block from the meeting site,and she asked,"Is that it?Do they have him in there?"

He could tell she was actually thinking of following,or possibly seeing how far her telekinesis could extend,so he said,"Let Logan do this his way.And we have to see how Scott and Helga are doing-you know Logan is fine."Or soon will be,briefly, he thought,but knew better than to actually say that.

She got the message.With only a hint of reluctance she turned the car down the dark and deserted side street that took them directly to Rhonik's pawn shop.

Jean stopped the car with a gasp at the head of the street,and Bob instantly opened the passenger side door and got out,headed for the large tangle of bodies and blood in the center of the road.

They were mostly demons,and Logan (and surely Helga as well) had killed many of them:the air seemed thick with the scent of death and blood,and it soon became impossible to walk without stepping in or on something.There were enough body parts for almost three dozen demons here-how in the hell did they ever take him down?He always thought an angry Logan was no one to fuck with,but here was his proof,spilled out in a technicolor display of gore on an abandoned street.

Some demons-and possibly humans,farther away-groaned slightly,but they sounded nowhere near full consciousness,and probably would be out of action for a long time.

He hoped this helped Logan,he sincerely did.Because this had been some price to pay.

At the end of this charnel orgy was Scott,laying curled up in a fetal position in the middle of the street,lightly splattered with blood not his own,but otherwise physically unharmed.At least whatever place Logan had mentally retreated to in his rage,he had remembered to protect him.

"Is he there?"Jean asked,as Bob kneeled down beside him,blocking her view.She was still farther up the street,being repulsed by the violence of this whole thing.But Logan had warned them he wouldn't be taken without a fight,and even if he had said he'd go along peacefully,no one would have believed him.Logan fought:that's what he did.

He turned Scott over onto his back,and he was as limp as a rag doll;he wasn't quite dead yet,but he was probably about three or four minutes away from it.He could smell the poison in him in each shallow breath.

It wasn't as bad as Krek's venom-obviously:he'd already be stone cold dead if it was-and he was glad,because two resurrections in one evening was too damn much.Rather than answer Jean,he grabbed Scott's head,and whispered fiercely,"Listen to me -you are groggy but fine.As soon as you hear Jean say your name,you will wake up."He then let him go,so she didn't catch him.

"Bob?"Jean asked,sounding concerned as well as closer."Have you found him?Is he..."

He felt her shadow fall over him,her shoes squelching in things it was probably best not to think about ,and she crouched down beside him,reaching out to her quasi-fiance and touching his cheek,wiping away a spot of reddish blood that wasn't his,not by a long shot."Scott?"

Scott groaned and reached up to his own head as if it hurt,and Bob got up and walked away,looking for Helga.

"You got the license plate of the truck that hit me,right?"Scott asked groggily,as Bob saw a pinpoint glow of red in a near by alleyway,an angry reddish orange coal that could only be the end of a cigarette.

"I didn't think you smoked Camels,"Bob said to Helga,with only the slightest frown.He knew she would be all right,he really did-not only was she a Stansin,she was the toughest broad he had ever met (and he meant that in the most complimentary way imaginable)-but he was still enormously relieved to see her.

She was sitting against the wall just inside the mouth of the alley,a few bodies piled up behind her as if a small tour group had been suddenly seized with mass narcolepsy.A cut on her forehead dribbled jade blood down her face,but otherwise she looked fine."It's all that loser had,"she said,jabbing the cigarette back in the direction of one of the bodies.

He crouched down beside her,and asked,"Go okay?"

"Logan's a fucking nightmare when he's pissed,"she said,exhaling a cloud of smoke."I like his style."

"Samurai?"

"And kamikaze.Fucking amazing.You really need to hire him,Bob-no one would fuck with any of your shipments ever again."

Of that,he had little doubt."I don't think he's for hire,sadly."

"Yeah,damn samurai code."She flicked the remains of her cigarette away,and it landed quite near a very ghoulish looking figure laying unconscious on the sidewalk,in a small pool of blood as black as ink,although it smelled more like melted rubber."And look what I caught me,old man."

The wiry hair,awkward body,and caustic smelling blood was enough of an identifier."A Beezel demon.Lucky nobody got barfed on."

"I caught him before he could.But it ain't just any smelly old Beezel,old man-it's Reddick."

He thought a moment,trying to place the name,as Jean helped Scott up to his feet.He did a double take when he saw the mass cole slaw of bodies behind him."Reddick,"Bob finally said."The assassin.I thought he was freelance.Why would he hook up with the League?"

"Why else?"

"Money,"he said,nodding.Reddick was the absolute worst in bad news.Beezels were generally an extremely unpleasant breed of demon,but rare on this plane:they could climb walls,move with a bizarre and sudden swiftness,and vomit with great accuracy a digestive fluid that was twice as caustic as sulfuric acid.It could dissolve a living being into a puddle of undifferentiated liquid goo within a minute or two,bones and all.An excruciating-and disgusting-way to die,but the evidence generally could be mopped up and flushed down the toilet.

If things weren't bad enough at that,Reddick upped the ante by being a complete psychopath.He loved watching people melt and dissolve,and he was very good at it.If barfing for distance and accuracy had been an Olympic sport,he'd have taken the gold medal every time.

He was well known on both coasts,and possibly throughout the entire demon world.Reddick's only loyalty was to money and to causing pain,and he was extremely good at causing pain.If you had a target you wanted taken out in the most savage, brutally inhumane way possible,he was your demon.

Helga jerked her head towards Scott and Jean,who were talking in whispers.Probably comforting one another;it was a very Human thing to do."They ain't going to do what needs to be done.Logan would,but he's gone.If we want to put the brakes on the League for good,the damn 'X Men' aren't going to do it.They don't have the stomach."

"They also have too much to lose,"he reminded her."They don't fight demons-they don't know the lay of that land."

"But we do,"she said,and he knew she was working up to something."We could shut them down tomorrow."

"That's not why we're here."

"It is now.Logan's gonna do his part on the government end.I say we clean house on this end."She then nudged one of Reddick's narrow shoulders with the tip of her blood spattered boot."And we can use this asshole to help us,whether he likes it or not.Come on,Bob,you can do your noble shtick-you know Rhonik and his League are a bunch of cold blooded killers,and worse.What do you say?Come on,let's do this thing."

Bob looked at Scott and Jean,then at Reddick,and then at Helga,before glancing back at Reddick again.

He thought long and hard before he finally decided what he was going to do.

Consciousness returned in the form of murmuring voices,speech sounds from a distant room.They grew louder and more coherent as things started to fill themselves in,the world coming back into focus.

Well,in theory.Everything remained black.

"-deal,"he heard a man saying.He had a faint Midwestern accent,a slightly nasal voice."Doesn't look like much."

"Have you seen the scans?It's fucking impressive to me,"the other man responded.His accent was more New England, although it had more of a military than pedagogic cadence."This is an engineering marvel,this is.I'd love to be able to actually see it,you know,without the flesh and muscle in the way."

"You probably could.Peel him like a grape and he's fine a few hours later."

"Yeah.But I was told to wait for specific orders before proceeding to something of that magnitude."Military man sounded really disappointed about that.

Logan knew he was strapped down to a metal table;he also knew there was something over his head.Not something as clumsy as a hood or a blindfold,but a part of the table or a machine;a diagnostic tool.

Something in his mind told him to close his eyes,that something would soon occur that he did not want his eyes open for,so he obeyed,not really knowing why but trusting his instincts.

"I know you're up,Wolvie,I saw your muscles tense,"Military man chided,and the nasal voice son of a bitch laughed."Would you like the continental breakfast?"

"Does your mother come with it?"He snapped.

"Ooh,"nasal voice said,still chuckling.

"I've already had yours,"Logan added,knowing he'd pay for it,but not really caring.Because soon,they were all going to pay for this tenfold.

"Hey,"nasal snapped angrily,and it was military's turn to chuckle."Leave my mother out of this you fucking freak."

"It seems Mister Wolverine still has some spark left in him,"Military said,in such a way Logan knew something bad was going to happen."That'll never do,will it?"

"I'll see you all dead,"he said.Not a threat but a promise that made him feel very warm inside.

A bright light came on inside the metal hood covering his head;if his eyes had been open,it was possible it could have flashed blinded him.Even with his eyes shut,the light leaking through his eyelids seemed much too bright,allowing him to see every capillary in the thin skin."You know,the Org was good,"Military went on,as Logan heard other machines humming to life.He was all too aware now that he was naked on this table,held down by bonds of adamantium,and utterly helpless.But only for now,just for now.He had had worse in his life,and he could cope for however long it took to get free,and get them.Maybe he'd strap one of them down and subject them to this.

"But not good enough.Brain manipulation techniques have improved greatly since they had you last,Logan.Mindfucking and negative stimuli together make a great impetus for agreement."

It was then it hit-a pain as bright as the sun,exploding through him,traveling down his nerves and through his entire body, blossoming from the back of his neck and rapidly moving outward,making his bones feel like hollow glass,and his blood feel like acid.He screamed-he must have-but he couldn't actually hear himself over the deep thrum of the machinery.

The pain seemed eternal,but finally it died down,a raging fire cooling down to a low smolder,and he heard Military ask, "Doesn't it,Logan?"

"Fuck you,"he gasped,his throat feeling raw.

"Wrong answer,"Military replied coolly,and the light flared brighter,as did the pain,this time making his whole body feel like a raw and open wound that someone was slowly but surely pouring vinegar in,rubbing it in with a steel wool pad.

He must have screamed,he knew he must have,but in the back of his mind,all Logan could think was a litany of 'YourallgoingtodieI'llseeyoualldead',until his body could take no more,and his mind shut down,sending him back into blissful, insensate darkness.

The tracking device that Logan had injected into his own ankle before he left (as he pointed out-quite sagely,in Bob's opinion-they never looked at the ankle closely;who would?) suggested Logan had been taken rapidly (airlifted) to somewhere in Maryland.They were actually airborne,in Xavier's snazzy jet,by the time they figured out where Logan exactly was-even Scott,who really didn't like Logan,didn't want him in the hands of those mutant torturers longer than necessary.

Jean was as tense as hell,worried about Logan,and who could blame her?He was back in the hands of men who mutilated him for sport,and considered him property they could use and abuse at will.Bob idly wondered how they'd like it.

Scott didn't land more than he jolted to a stop,which Bob hoped was just a sign of his own anxiousness.Either that,or he needed flying lessons.Bob was willing to give it a shot on the way back.Of course,he had only ever operated a helicopter,but he was willing to give a jet a try.

Scott put the jet down-with some difficulty-in the back forty of a large pasture,just a couple of city blocks from what appeared to be not a military compound but simply a cinderblock government office building,only with a sentry's post out front.It looked harmless,but Bob knew you could never completely trust your eyes.

He convinced Scott,Jean,and Helga to let him go first,and wait for him to give them the 'all clear'.After all,it didn't matter if they caught him on the security tape:he wasn't a mutant,and seriously,he wanted these people to mess with him,he really did.They could finally pick on someone their own size.

He walked casually towards the sentry's little booth,well lit,the ambient glow barely showing the twelve foot steel security gate beyond them,or the tiny pinpoint lights of the security cameras,and other,probably lethal,security precautions.Not that it mattered;soon their own men would neutralize them.

"Halt,"a voice crackled through the booth's speaker,and a spotlight came on,attempting to blind him.But mind over matter and all,Bob simply shrank his own pupils to pinpricks,and most of the light didn't get through."Identify yourself."

Bob held out his hand,and extended his middle finger."This is my pass-it gives me complete security clearance.I am one of your highest superiors,and you will treat me that way."Faintly,he heard someone laughing far away,and figured it was Helga.

The soldiers-there were two of them,both with drastic buzz cuts that seemed to accentuate the harsh planes of their stern faces -looked at him with blank eyes,as glossy as the ones taxidermists shoved in stuffed moose heads."Sorry sir,"one snapped, as they both saluted crisply,and the bigger of the two quickly snapped off the spotlight.

"The cameras will malfunction,and you will shut down all the security right now,"Bob said,as he walked up to the booth.The two men hurried up and did just what they were told,as Bob waved the others-hiding farther away-to come forward."You will remember me and only me.Now open the gate."

"Yes sir,"the smaller one responded,and the gates began to slide apart with a rather eerie absence of noise as Jean,Scott,and Helga joined him.

Scott glanced warily at the men,who didn't see him even though he was standing right in front of them.He waved a hand experimentally in front of their faces,but of course there was no response at all.

"I am the only person they can see and hear right now,"Bob told him.

"That's just creepy,"he replied,dropping his hand.

Helga reached in through the small window in the bulletproof plexiglass that made up the top half of the booth,and pulled a sidearm right out of the larger man's hip holster.He,of course,never noticed.

Helga checked out the sleek black handgun in the dim light of the strangely golden full moon (harvest moon,he vaguely recalled),which hung overhead like the bloated,cataract filmed eye of an indifferent god,and Helga whistled low."This is full automatic,"she said,popping the clip and looking inside."Armor piercing,fragmenting bullets.Shit,that's not standard issue."She slammed the clip back in the butt of the gun with the heel of her palm,and immediately took the safety off so the gun was ready to go,all in a series of smooth motions that betrayed her expertise with such things.

That was his girl.

"Nothing about this place is standard,"Bob pointed out,and then asked the soldiers in their little booth,"A mutant was brought in tonight,named Logan.Where is he?"

"I don't know,"the smaller one-the one really in charge here-replied.

"Guess."

"Reconditioning unit,third level."

"Reconditioning unit?"Jean repeated in disgust and horror.It was a sort of ironic name for a place where they brainwashed you and tortured you into submission.

"Who's the head honcho around here?"

"Captain Michael Hedwin."

"Is he here?"

"Yes."

"Where?Guess if you don't know."

"His office-level one."

"Thank you,boys.Good night."Both soldiers just folded up,eyes rolling up into the backs of their heads as they collapsed on top of each other inside the cramped booth,and Scott looked after them,as if checking to make sure they weren't faking or dead.

"How do you do that?"Scott asked,not for the first time.

"Mind over matter,"Bob told him,knowing he probably wouldn't understand.But in some people-some demons-that wasn't a philosophy:it was a genuine power.

Bob led the way inside the gates,where the fortress like defenses became more apparent:what seemed like a parking lot from outside the gates was in fact a sort of concrete update of a moat,with cameras (now deactivated) and what could very well be weapon or sensor ports (also disabled either way) studding the reinforced concrete facade every twenty inches or so around the entire structure.

Scott and Jean remained tense and on the alert,but Helga just let him lead,without a care in the world.Even if they had demons on the premises,he doubted they'd be immune to him,and,if so,they'd be taken care of easily enough.

Two thick,bullet headed soldiers,armed with semi-automatic machine guns,came walking towards them on standard foot patrol, and he sensed Jean and Scott both tensing behind him as they stopped their idle chatter about last night's Wizards game and saw them.But before they could fully react,Bob had caught them-soldiers were so easy to get,since they had already been conditioned to take orders."Ignore us,"Bob instructed them."And the gate is closed."

The two men looked right through them,and one casually lit up a smoke as the other went on talking about the basketball game. Jean and Scott remained ready for action,and as they walked by,close enough to reach out and touch them,Bob told the nearest one,"Give me your key card."

The man did so,not even looking at him,and continuing to talk about the game to the the smoking man,handing it to Bob as they walked past.

"Are you sure you're not evil?"Scott asked,constantly glancing back at the retreating soldiers.

"Oh,I have my moments,"Bob admitted wryly,as Helga's tail flicked playfully against the back of his leg.She liked a bit of evil now and again.Well,who didn't?

They came to a heavy security door-why did Bob get the feeling it was sheathed in adamantium?-with no door knob or obvious handle,just a reader card slot,like he had expected.He ran the soldier's card through the slot,and after a moment the pin light above it flashed from red to green,and the door started to slide open with a pneumatic gasp."No fighting unless absolutely necessary,"Bob informed them."Otherwise,just let me take care of this."

Helga made a noise of disappointment,while Scott said quietly,"Somehow I don't think Logan's going to go along with that."

"You're assuming Logan will be in any shape to fight,"Helga said,making Bob wince.He really wished she hadn't said that.

No one said anything,but he could feel the sudden gloom like a weight on his back,and decided it was best not to make any further comment on it at all.

The interior of the building was just what he expected:cold adamantium walls,featureless save for the occasional security panel or camera and sensor port in the walls,and the strip of florescent lights in the high metal ceiling.This place felt as cold as the inside of a bank vault and as sterile as a lab,and all adamantium doors appeared sealed tight.There was absolutely no noise at all,save for he shushing of the air circulators,and then,when a door opened,they heard footsteps echoing from very far away.It was like being in the most high tech crypt imaginable.

"Aren't we headed for the big cheese's office?"Helga asked,as Bob headed for what appeared to be an elevator.

"We get Logan first."he said,and even she didn't object.

When the doors slid apart,there was a soldier leaning back casually against the back wall of the lift,who reacted in shock upon seeing all these un-uniformed strangers."We're not here,"Bob said,and all the shock on the man's face melted away into confusion as he shook his head and left the elevator;they had to move aside so he didn't walk into them.

As soon as they were inside,Scott said,"I bet you sneak into a lot of places."

"Only when I have to,"he admitted,glancing around the seemingly featureless metal box.Voice activated lift?"Level three,"Bob said,in his best authoritarian,American voice.