London's Burning

[Spectre]

"Are you ready?"

Spectre only smiled at the one called Ghost, her gaze seemingly boring into his skull. "Are you..?"

She walked past him into the hall, following the other new recruits as they eagerly went off to prove their mettle to Saladin and earn their places among the more seasoned members of The Brotherhood. Truly she was only worried about two of them, Rodent.. who seemed the sort to - for lack of a better explanation - squeak and run like a rat on a sinking ship, and the Ghost at her side, whom she'd already decided had the bravery of a pet store guniea pig.

Rock would be a good front man, she would just love to see the X-men try and get through him. Nomad, and his singular talent would be as she had suspected, too fast to stop once the action started.. and Basilisk, well she just had to stand there and look pretty and they would fall before her.

Spectre smiled.

"Let's not overly exert ourselves yet...", she said as they exited the same hidden door. "We'll lead them deeper away from this passage so they don't come across it, ill fated. Let them come to us.."

[Pan]

Duncan took a seat and the screen of the laptop came to life. Moments later, various windows had opened; minimized images of maps and blueprints overlapping each other. Duncan studied them for a few moments, shaking his head. He spoke into the radio:

"Batdude, can you make out any obvious route for the team to take ahead of their current location?"

He turned to Henri and nodded at the boy:

"Let's find out what he knows."

[The Brotherhood]

Behind them, the wall rolled back into place and the passageway returned to looking completely unglamorous. There were storm drains high overhead and shafts of silver light cut through the dark at regular intervals lending the gloom some definition. Mach disappeared with a rush of air. The rest set off together, Rodent dared to scurry ahead on all fours, sniffing the air cautiously while Nomad and Rock took up flanking positions either side of Basilisk who walked undaunted in the thick of the dark. A cool breeze pushed its way through the tunnels as another train rumbled by somewhere close.

"That's funny," muttered Rodent, his nose poking around in the air, "I can smell beer."

"Well, we were at a pub earlier, genius," said Rock. The little mutant sniffed again.

"No. Not from us. Somewhere else."

These was a sudden whoosh and Mach had reappeared, grinning wickedly.

"Follow me."

[Batdude]

"Uh, hang one for a sec."

Marty went to work on Pan's request, actively pinging the area around the advance team on the ground.

"There should be some kind of hole. Look for like a manhole or a drain or something. I can hear it pretty clearly, about 50 meters ahead. Hang on..."

Marty swung about, straining to hear the action down below.

"I don't hear anymore shooting. Whatever was going on has stopped I think."

[Dragon]

The X-Men were still on the platform when the blast came. It was muffled through several walls of bedrock, but it rumbled through the cement beneath their feet and dropped plaster dust from the ceiling.

The response was immediate - screams, angered shouts, people pulling out their cell phones and rushing en masse out of the platform. The team of X-Men stood like a rock dividing a flood of humanity.

"That was a high explosive," Dragon said with the certainty that came from experience. "Dear God... surely they haven't set off another dirty bomb!"

He motioned to the team, and they charged forward through the rush toward the blackness of the abandoned tunnel. As Slab and Locksmith jumped down and helped the others into the rail trench, Dragon paused at the edge of the platform and looked back over the frightened crowd. For a moment he thought he'd glimpsed a young man standing still among the scattering commuters and watching them intently.

He jumped down to rail level, and the X-Men plunged into the darkness of the tunnel.

---

They were some distance in when Slab approached Dragon and spoke in muted tones.

"Mah guess is we are bein' tailed, Dragon. They prolly got lookouts from exit ta exit."

He craned his neck, the liquid between the bones of his neck bursting in a sickening crack.

"What's our plan, bubba?"

"We've got to keep moving forward," Dragon replied. "The situation has escalated, and it's only a matter of time before the local forces move in. We have to cut a path for them to the Brotherhood."

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Tempest, can you feel how the air's moving? Can you tell if we're getting close to another tunnel?"

[Jacinda Blake]

Although directions had not yet been confirmed by either Batdude, or Sticks, Tempest was pretty sure they had to follow the rails into the tunnel. There was just no where else to go, and it seemed a likely place to hide an entrance. They were sure to find maintenence checkpoints and street level escapes at the very least, Workers had to have access down there, so there was more than one way out. If Marty was hearing noise coming from that way, it was good enough for her - but she would wait for Dragon to make the call..

Her gaze drifted over to the four passengers awaiting their train. Wild night for them, she supposed! The young guy was kind of cute.. in a creepy sort of way. She smirked a bit at his grin but looked away, stepping closer to Carlos..

Breathing in and out steadily, she drew the currents from the tunnel close to her.. There were no trains approaching, but she did hear the sound of distant voices, muffled as though trying to be quiet, and the sound of shufflinng footsteps on concrete.. She would have said so, but that's about the time she covered her ears against the blast.

---

Sticking close to Dragon, she kept listening for other sounds approaching them. She shook her head in answer to his question.

"The main track goes on for a while.." Ahead though, the air was pulled into a smaller space on one side of the rails, a hall of some kind and further down it collected in a rounded area, swirling upon itself and back..

"There are smaller tunnels, for foot traffic I'm guessing, that lead off. Beyond that is a dead end.. There were voices before that blast, but I can't hear them now.."

[Neutron]

“What the hell was that?” In all honesty he didn't care, but some part of him wondered at the best ways to tear the assailant to pieces, dead or not. Arsenal was just plain pissed.

Aslan kept coughing, eventually getting enough air to speak.

"I don't knows. We'd better get back and report."

He rose to his feet, checking his Kalashnikov as he dusted himself off.

[Carlos Calaveras]

As they talked, Carlos struck up a tiny flame in his palm, illuminating a small portion of the tunnel. Some moisture from the tunnel roof feel into the flames and they crackled in protest.

“The hell's going on down here?” he muttered to himself, looking on into the darkness ahead.

[Saladin]

The Brotherhood base camp was a hurricane of activity - mutants packing up equipment, gathering what firearms they carried, and generally dismantling the living space that had served as Davis Midridge's remote accommodations. The MP himself still sat languidly in his chair, watching the proceedings around him with dull indifference.

"So run this by me again," Geryon muttered as he hefted a large crate into a closet. "Why are we moving Midridge now?"

"Because," Tron, who'd returned from his remote lookout position, muttered back, "the X-wipes are moving in, we've already got the cops and jarheads swarming around above us, and that explosion, whatever it was, is gonna get everybody's attention."

"I know that," Geryon grunted. "But if we're done with the geezer, why can't we just let him find his own way out?"

"Because we want him released on our own terms," Saladin broke in, fastening his coat. "Besides, Spectre still needs to turn the key to give him back his mind - most of it, anyway. His party won't very well turn his seat over to a simpering moron, now, will they?"

Tron and Geryon blinked and conscientiously held their tongues. Saladin acquired the look of a man rethinking his last five words.

"Geryon, if you'll do the honors?"

"Sure thing, boss."

The huge mutant took Midridge by both shoulders and hauled him to his feet. The MP offered him no resistance.

As the Brotherhood packed up the last of the portable materiel, Midridge included, Saladin raised his radio. "Neutron, Arsenal, we're moving Midridge. What's your status?"

[Veronica]

Veronica stood silent near Saladin while the chaos swirled around her. All of her possessions were in the two suitcases in her nearby room or on her back. Just a some changes of clothes, several thousand dollars in mixed currency, a dissasembled sniper rifle, some ammunition and several different forged forms of identification. If he told her to do something, she would. Until then, she'd enjoy her cigarette.




Veronica was glad if they were leaving. She hated London. She hated England and it's godawful weather, but she hated sewers even more. "Sanitary" sewers still smelled of mold and water. It was eternally damp and cold. It was disgusting, and while she voiced no complaints to anyone ($3000 a month in euros and dollars in retainer fees alone kept her mouth shut) perhaps only Saladin knew that she was less than pleased with his choice of headquarters. When asked if there were any strategic concerns, she had frustratedly said there were none in particular, and that this section of the sewers was especially easy to defend (and especially damp.)

Veronica exhaled and tapped the ash off the end of her cigarette.

[Batdude]

"Guys, you've got about sixty meters going that direction, and you should be able to hear movement. I hear a whole bunch of activity not far along from your position. The tunnels all intersect in this area, and everything is echoing out from there."

Marty stopped suddenly, aware of a very familiar, very loud sound approaching.

Helicopter rotors.

"Guys, I might need to check out in a little bit."

[Michael Lawston]

"Neutron, Arsenal, we're moving Midridge. What's your status?"

Arsenal trudged alongside Neutron as the pair made their way back through the warrens with the Chechen’s lackeys in tow. The wound on his arm had quickly closed up, looking as if the skin had been cauterized shut, and his eyes were still slightly red.

“We ran into a bit of a snag and had to detonate a charge early.”
He growled at the thought of the red-eyed assassin. Arsenal did not like being at such a disadvantage as had been.

“Assassin in some sort of cybernetic suit with active camouflage and tech I haven’t seen before. His sword cut through my saber like tissue paper; I’m thinking adamantium. We tick off any organization that fits the bill?”

[Saladin]

Saladin stopped in mid-stride, alarmed. At the mention of adamantium, he immediately thought of Ragnarok.

But, no.... he was certain that if they were moving again, his sources would have informed him. This was something else.

"He's certainly not with the X-Men," he replied. "I think he must be working for the humans, trying to disrupt our operation. If you haven't found a body, we had best assume he's still at large. We'll pass the alert to all units."

Saladin glanced back at Tron, who nodded and laid his hand on an open computer terminal. "Done, Boss."

"Good. Veronica, keep track of Midridge. I'm taking point."

[Veronica]

"Allright." She said, immediately walked to the room that had been serving as her quarters. The two medium sized duffles hung off her shoulders, making an X across her chest.

"C'mon then chap, pip pip and all that crap." Veronica said in a mock British accent. "Follow me." She gave the MP a nudge. His passiveness made her uncomfortable. Most of his conciousiness had been brushed aside for a mallable, obedient drone.

The fact that Spectre could do that to almost anyone gave her chills. For now, though, he was more pleasant than he had been at his arrival. The MP had made all manner of comical threats, given his situation.

She nudged him along. One hand held his arm while the other rested on the MP5.

[Ghost]

Mach led them to an intersection of four tunnels. One tunnel was wider than the others and had a row of pillars running through its centre, they followed her into it. Chris hesitated and inspected his immediate surroundings, he disliked the way the light from his torch was swallowed up by the dark and the only thing he discovered was that each tunnel seemed to stretch far beyond his field of vision. He promptly joined the rest of the group.

The pillars supported an ornate stone archway on either side, it gave the tunnel a unique appearance but Chris thought it was wholly unnecessary and only made their surroundings more claustrophobic. Rock had to duck to pass under each archway, there were three pairs in total and once they were through they stepped into a large open space full of sound. Long arms of pale light were cast about, throwing light on damp shimmering walls and a myriad thick lead pipes which snaked upwards from large rusty boilers and disappeared through the ceiling high above them. The metal creaked and groaned, the muted rumble and buzz off city life seeped through the stone and water droplets fell unseen and echoed near and far. Chris noticed a ladder in the far corner but his torch couldn't reach where it lead.

"We spring the trap here?" he asked, and his voice hung in the air.