Subject: [OTL]: [Maverick, Kai] [R] From Russia, With . . . 5/halfway. =) Date: Thu, 04 May 2000 12:22:15 -0700 From: Jaya Mitai (See previous posts for disclaimers. If you don't have the previous posts, I'm going to throw a piano at you. =) * * * * * * * Maverick allowed himself to be pulled away from Kai, letting her slip through his fingers, and the tears continued to pour. He'd almost called her Tiki. It could have been that day. Holding her in his arms - but he hadn't. He put pressure on the wound, he tried to save her life -- He didn't give her the one thing she really needed. A hand to hold. Strong arms that could ward away the fear, the pain. No, he had allowed himself to be shoved aside by paramedics that really didn't have a shot at saving her life. And he had known it. And of all the people to remind him, and of all the times to draw on that memory - he'd had to do it with her murderer. Her assassin. He used the loathing he felt to his advantage, projecting it all in the direction of the leader of the thug band. The Bedouin smiled unpleasantly. And the woman repeated her question. 'Too weak' to do anything else, he made an ineffectual lunge, and was stabbed with something of a remarkably small diameter. So they were going to drug him and drag him off to be interrogated elsewhere. And if Kai wasn't at that bar when he got out . . . * * * * * * * Kai flicked the glass idly, watching the circular ripples on the surface of the amber liquid. Her chin rested on her arm, which in turn rested on the slightly-better-than-filthy wooden table. Three men had tried to 'persuade' her to go into the back with them. Now she was left to herself. And she liked it that way. Really, it was stupid of her to drink that much, with the symbiont working overtime like it was. Her back still ached, and her small intestines had complained loudly about the room service it hadn't finished digesting. Which is how she'd managed to persuade the local scum to leave her alone. The thought almost made her smile. Kai, the international terrorist, assassin, and spy, using the Upchucking Method to ward off attacks. Come closer, so that I may puke on you! She didn't realize she was giggling until she caught the bartender looking at her a little worriedly. She hastily sat up and straightened her features, then swallowed the rest of the beer. Wordlessly, the man came to refill it. Russia really was a nice place to go, if you wanted to get drunk. She was on her third type of liquor. The vodka had started burning too much in her still tender digestive tract, and she wasn't sure the shot hadn't touched her liver, as well. And the local whiskey had had the same effect. The stuff was probably used to power automobiles. So she was onto the beer, also much stronger than the American stuff she was used to. Still, not bad. Not bad at all. And easier on the stomach. She glared as some unremarkably dressed fellow plopped into the chair across from her and motioned to the bartender. But it wasn't the local scum. Well, that depended on how you defined 'local.' North fixed her with an icy glare. "News said there were two bodies." Kai blinked at him. He was still one image. She wasn't drunk enough to handle this. "Killed the bellhop. Nothing I could do." She paused. Why did he expect the impossible out of her? She saved the girl. That wasn't the right choice. She didn't save the bellhop. That wasn't the right choice, either. Who the hell did he think he was? "What, you want the dead woman to just rise up with a gun? Gee, how 'bout a big sign? We're lying our asses off. Please shoot us." He got the beer and downed it in a continued gulp. The bartender took the glass and replaced it instantly. "I was talking - something stronger, please - about the woman." Kai leaned back as North pushed the beer over to her, and shortly received a double of clear liquid. This too he downed with no apparent need for air. Kai studied him, hooded in the shadows the leaning out of the light offered. He looked like hell. For someone that could absorb kinetic energy, thus the impact of punches, he still somehow managed to come out looking injured. But apparently only when he wanted to. "The woman was a Jane Doe the right height. Died in an alley three hours before we were attacked." "Oh, and let me guess. Your people just showed up and replaced the body. And changed the official time of death, too, I suppose? Tell me, how is it your people move so quickly? You obviously aren't keeping them informed." "We're supposed to move quickly. This is goddamn nuclear war we're talking about. What the hell is your problem, huh? Why don't you get off your holy kick and give me a little credit?" She picked up the beer without another word. "For all I know, you had that woman killed just so it didn't blow your cover." "_Your_ cover too. Quit being so damn assuming." Neither noticed when the bartender left them a tray of assorted drinks. "Assuming? You're a killer. And that will never change. Will it." She lowered the glass, slowly, carefully, her hand not so much as belying a tremble. "As I recall, you and your team slaughtered plenty of innocents." "Creed slaughtered a lot of innocents." "Creed doesn't leave bulletholes." "He used weapons on occasion. I don't go around slaughtering innocents for fun and profit." "I don't work for money. Or for fun." "Oh? I think your buddy that killed Tasha would say diffe-" Kai stood abruptly, knocking her chair over backwards. She literally could been seen debating using it to bludgeon him over the head. No one paid them a second look. "Why do you keep throwing that in my face? God_damn_it, I said I was sorry! If I could go back, I would do thin-" "But you can't go back, can you," he snarled, also rising to his feet, hands braced on the table to keep them from her throat. "You can't. And she's _dead._ Her child is _dead._" Kai's face changed slightly, as though something had occurred to her, but her tone was still vicious. "Was it yours? Is that what this is really about?" He blinked, momentarily taken off balance, and sat back down as he reached for another drink. "No." "You don't know who the father was, do you." The surety of the statement seemed to calm Kai, because she leaned down and straightened her chair. All the patrons probably thought they were a married couple, and they were arguing in English. Not an intelligent thing to do, but not likely to get them killed. Her surety did nothing to calm David. He gripped the glass hard enough to whiten his knuckles, then threw the liquid down the back of his throat. "No," he finally grated. "And you didn't know she was pregnant, did you." He glared at her. "We covered that years ago. Or did you forget that, as well?" Her eyes narrowed to slits. "You," she said, enunciating everything with perfect clarity, "Have no idea what the hell you're talking about." He noted that all the vodka, and most of the beer, was gone. He signaled the bartender. If her people could replace bodies, then they sure as hell could pick up the tab. "Enlighten me. Tell the piteous story that's going to make me understand and forgive you. I'm listening." She leaned back into the shadows again, ignoring him, his sarcasm, and her surroundings in general until the booze came. Then she picked up a glass. "No." He studied her. She was drunk, but not nearly enough for him to get anything decent out of her. And that was the game she was obviously playing with him. He found himself almost eagerly grabbing the challenge. Who would get the advantage? Was her healing slow enough that his body weight would win out? Then he chided himself. This was goddamn stupid. Getting drunk with the perhaps enemy. Well, he'd gotten in bed with the enemy. And besides dangerous, it'd been a lot of fun. "Kneel, KI-5. I hear that fucking voice in my dreams every damn night." He'd had to strain to hear it, and she spoke with a distant, almost chantlike quality, emotionless. "But I didn't. Stubborn. For months. Long time. After a while, you realize it's pointless. There's no hope, no end, just you . . . and them. And sometimes, they win." He decided to nurse the next round, and blinked thoughtfully as he sipped. "And that's why getting Logan out is such a priority for you?" Kai grabbed the next beer. "Maybe." "Bullshit." She sighed. "What bullshit?" He grinned goofily. "That bullshit." He pointed at her. She looked at him a moment, then burst into laughter. "Oh, so I'm bullshit, huh? What does that make you? Sheep shit?" 'Sheep shit' came out more like sheepsfit, and he couldn't quite keep his chuckling internal. "I don't believe a word of what you just said." That sobered her up instantly, and her eyes, which had a moment ago seemed almost alive - changed. "Don't have to. You aren't one to believe the truth if you don't feel like it." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She shrugged. "You're not a killer. You're a mercenary that kills people. Of course. Big difference there." Her tone was acidic. He felt like jamming the glass in his hand down her throat. "I don't kill innocent people." "Neither do I." "What do you want with Logan? Really?" The question took her off balance. "I . . . want to get him out." "No. What are your people going to do with him once you get him out?" She blinked. "That's your job, North. The reason you signed up for this gig? I'm here to get some missiles and that'll help you out getting your friend back. I'd rather my people not even know that he was there in the first place." North thought about that for a moment. That, actually, made sense. "Oh." She wrinkled her brow. "What did you think?" He shrugged. "Had no idea." She nodded slowly, studying the beer as though she had never seen one before. "Why don't you trust me when I tell you that we aren't terrorists?" He motioned lazily to the bartender. "Because. You are." "Aren't." "Are. "Aren't." "Don't deny it." "Not denying anything." "Lair." "Bastard." "Foul-mouthed little cow." "Stubborn arrogant fluff." He blinked. "Did you just call me a fluff?" He seemed flabbergasted at the idea. "I just got beat up and drugged and interrogated by a bunch of Croatians, and _you_ have the audacity to call _me_ a fluff?" Kai blinked owlishly. "Yeah," she finally admitted, and went back to her beer with a snicker. "I have no idea where fluff came from. Leemme alone." "Uh-uh. I see how it is." She stared at him in mild confusion. "See how what is?" He was in the middle of grandly gesturing with his vodka, careful not to slosh it, and froze, looking much like the lead tenor in an opera, forgetting his next note. Finally, he moved. Rather, deflated. "I don't remember. What did you say?" Outside the quaint little tavern, their laughter could be heard over the usual jovial death threats and angry wives dragging drunkards from the establishment. * * * * * * * Kai walked quietly and quickly down the street, her booted feet scarcely audible even to her own ears. She had to still the urge to jump into an alley and the shadows there whenever she passed anyone. Had to be visible for fifty yards, so fifty yards it was. Once she'd worked her way to the appointed street, she hung a left, continuing to the third door. Without hesitation, she tugged on the handle. The door swung silently open. Whoever Darius had working for contacts these days, it was obvious they had a flair for melodramatics. The table was the only lit item in the room, and a quick glance told her the rest of the room was devoid of any obstacles of any other kind. Once in that circle of light, though, it would be very difficult for even her to see anything outside it. And if someone chose to attack, they wouldn't have any annoying obstacles to trip over. Nice touch. Poor planning. "Fred," she called. While Fred was a really stupid name for a contact, it was a helluva lot better than Francis. She thought he was going to murder her for that. If he hadn't had six guns trained on him, he might have given it a shot. "Kathlyne. How grand to see you once more." Kai was glad the shadows allowed her to roll her eyes openly. "Do you have your part of our little arrangement?" "Yes, I brought the money. Your intel any good?" He finally stepped into the light, and she followed suit. They took the two chair opposite one another and exchanged vanilla envelopes. While he tore into his eagerly to count the money, she carefully opened her packet and went over the data. It nearly made her yelp. "Tomorrow? R-" She hushed instantly, mentally kicking herself. "What?" He looked almost -- Yeah, he smelled it too. Anxious. Scared. Guilty. And upon closer sampling of the air, she detected three more scents. Two men and gun oil. "This intel correct?" Fred nodded emphatically. "Quite, I assure you, my dear lady." "A pity you won't put it to good use," a voice purred to her left. Kai froze, not at all surprised to see Fred also casually pull a gun from his pocket. The butt was inlaid with pearls and glittering glass, from the way it was reflecting the light. He followed her gaze. "You like? I bought it in America, for a pretty penny." "Pity the diamonds aren't real," she remarked conversationally. His eyes flew down and the gun turned sideways, but she took no advantage. "Why? Didn't I keep up my end?" He didn't look at her, but he answered distractedly. "More money was coming from the places I gather my information. Have to keep current." Kai sighed in frustration. This was not an uncommon gamble for more money, and Kai really didn't want to shell over the other two thousand she'd brought in case he did precisely this. Besides, Maverick, sleeping off the alcohol in a run-down hotel room, would certainly note that some of their money was gone. She felt a twinge of guilt; she'd seen a side of him tonight she hadn't thought he'd possessed. He'd been funny as hell. She hadn't even given him credit for a sense of humor at all, let alone the ability to literally almost make her wet herself in the course of twenty minutes. And he'd had the whole bar rolling with laughter by the time they'd left. He'd been fun, light . . . almost younger. He'd lost that hardened, guarded look for a few short hours. And given her the opportunity to see the man underneath. And had probably told him more about what happened to her than anyone outside Three Eyes, with the exception of Sensei, knew about it. And he had taken it in stride. She could understand his trepidation about letting people he thought were terrorists take nuclear weapons from terrorists intended for other terrorists. He probably didn't know which of the three groups was worse. Telling him Three Eyes intended to disassemble them and send the pieces to several UN nations would not allay that fear. She just hoped that he stuck to his part, and got Logan out of that mess. And to do that, she'd need his trust. Yet here she was, skulking around the city at three in the morning, going to meet a contact that was squirrely at best, and she hadn't so much as left a note. If that wasn't breaking his trust . . . Kai shook herself out of her thoughts and glared at Fred. "Look, we agreed-" "That you are going to give then ten thousand dollars. In American currency." Kai blinked. "That could by you a mansion in this town. They aren't offering you that much." He smiled thinly, still smelling of anxiety. Waiting for her to make her move. "That's how much I value your life. Your employers will be more than happy to pay the ransom, eh? Pity you will not be alive to trade them." There went the melodrama again. After the performance last night, she was really growing tired of acting as a respectable profession anymore. Lying was one thing. But this . . . was just too much. "Oh. So you're going to kill me, and then ask my boss for the money. I see. So . .. do your two friends know that they, and their families, will be killed along with yours? Or are you keeping that little piece of information to yourself?" She smelled the electric charge in the air, and something she needed - doubt. Fred's eyes darted toward the darkness, but he couldn't see them any more than she could. "She lies. She works for a Samaritan group." "So the intel you collected on the guards was for me to, what? Decide whether they like chocolate or caramel more? Please, Fred - I doubt they're that stupid." She lazily got to her feet - and a muzzle was pressed directly to the back of her neck. Kai froze instantly. Right on the back of her neck - where the symbiont was. If he injured it enough, there was a possibility that she could die- "We aren't stupid, as you say, Kai," the one behind her said, in a slight accent. "What intelligence there is to collect, Fred can collect." Oh shit shit shit She was disarmed without resistance, as Fred sauntered over. "I know you have very fast healing, Kai, and I was wondering, would you mind if we find out how fast? That little bit of info is worth a pretty penny." "I'm sure it is," she agreed quietly. Stood still. Fred smiled, less anxious than before. "I've always found you . .. almost . . . exotic. Don't you think, boys?" There were hoots of agreement. Kai almost laughed. "Exotic, huh? If you want, I can dance for you." Oh, we'd dance all right. "Adulterer," a strong male voice called out. Also accented. Fred and her captor hustled her into a shield facing the door. "Sorry, honey, but they're offering ten thousand - a little lapdance couldn't hurt." Kai was amazed it rolled off her tongue so easily. "And here you said you loved me," the voice continued, a strange humored lilt to it. There was a brief flash of light as a gun went off, and Fred fired at it. There was a satisfying muffled thud, and Kai smelled blood. "That was very unloyal of you," Maverick observed, this time from the right. "Planning on killing your friend there, and keeping the money for yourself?" Fred cursed in Russian, firing wild shots about the room. Kai didn't take the advantage then, either. In truth, she and North were at a marked disadvantage. "You even think about coming near me, and I'll sell your name to the others so fast you'll be dead before you even hear the gunshot." "Guess that means I have to kill you first. Honey, is this a contact of yours?" She ground her teeth, but spoke. "Of course, dear. A usually trustworthy one." "I can see that." That damned infuriating smug tone. "You want I should let you handle the other two?" Kai closed her eyes. "You can if you're tired, snookums." Where did I get 'snookums?' "But I do know how cranky you can get if I have all the fun." "So true," he agreed quietly. "I take it you want Fred?" Kai nodded. "Sure." And the gun was shot cleanly from behind her neck. She heard the bullet whistle by. That close to perhaps killing her. She turned without missing a beat and kicked the gun from Fred's hand. He returned with a charge that carried her out of the circle of light. She backpedaled furiously, then gave up and fell backwards, carrying him over with her by his head and using her legs to kick him solidly into the wall. Then she used the momentum to roll to her feet, and turned to Fred with a spinning kick. And, unfortunately, he chose that moment to lean his head to the side, blinking rapidly, in a search for Maverick. The break was clean, however, and he slumped lifelessly to the floor. Kai couldn't stop herself. "Sonuva_bitch_!" She stalked back into the light, ignoring Maverick, who was standing to her left, and picked up the information. She started perusing through the rest of it. And then there was another gun, pressed firmly against the back of her neck. "What is it about this particular area that makes you so cautious," he asked casually as she tensed. A muscle on her clenched jaw rippled slightly. "It definitely makes you uptight. This your Achilles heel?" She took a steadying breath. Telling him was out of the question. Period. "Drop it, Maverick, eh? We have more important things to worry about." "Like how soon those missiles are set to be moved?" She almost growled. "How long have you been there?" He half-laughed. "I was outside for part. You have a keen sense of smell. No sense giving myself away." She went to turn, and he shoved her roughly onto the table, pinned to it by the gun on her neck, just beneath her skull. "Give me one good reason not to blow your head off and take the intel, and get this done myself." "You can't," she finally said. "And you know why." "Yeah, I guess I do. Because your boss isn't going to let me run off with missiles he has other plans for. And, of course, there's the question of Logan." "I thought we covered this tonight. We aren't a terrorist organization." "And I'm not German. And that isn't a good enough reason." She honestly thought he was going to pull the trigger. She felt the slight shifting as he moved his finger, heard the sudden stilling of his up to that point steady breathing. Heard the silence as loudly as though she were in a bell tower at noon. And she woke up in their motel room. With him staring at her. Her hand, moving of its own will, flew toward her neck. Not a scratch, though it was slightly sore. It was then she noticed that he was staring, but slumped tiredly in a chair, the gun in his hand not pointed at anything. "Just hit you," he told her matter-of-factly. "I don't trust you as much as I'd like to. But this bickering is going to distract us to the point that we're ineffective." She sat up, said nothing, watched him. Smelled alcohol on him. Again? "So I'm going to give you . . . the ben - bef - ah, hell. A chance. You blow it, you're dead. Got it?" She nodded, once. Then she laid back down, rolled over, and went to sleep. * * * * * * * Logan awoke as usual, snarling, having tied himself up in the sheets yet again, drenched in the stink of fear. Cursing in every language he knew, he got up, grabbed a shower. Turned the water so hot his healing factor had to repair the slight burns. It was getting worse. _He_ was getting worse. Far, far worse than he had been before. No thought, now. He'd given up. Logan punched the shower wall. Dammit! Why? Why would he give up? Surely, if he could dream this other Logan, the other had to be dreaming him. Right? Realization hit like a bomb. Of course. The X-Men weren't looking for Logan, they were looking for him. In fact, they were trying to nail the man that had copied him. Logan's friends had unknowingly betrayed him. And he'd lost hope. But surely that Logan knew that he was looking for him? And debating whether to kill him. So, in a way, Logan was betraying himself. So giving up was the only option he had left. But it wasn't an option. It was against everything he believed -- But it wasn't. It was against everything the man Logan believed. And the Logan in his dreams was losing that more and more every day. Because I'm leeching it away. Much as the thought stung, it as true. Even if he wasn't Logan by blood, he had become Logan. And he had taken everything he had fought for. A copy that had taken his friends. His family. His humanity. And left him with the part of himself he loathed the most. Logan shut off the water, hoping the chlorine was causing the sting in his eyes. No! Hating himself would just travel down whatever strange link they had, hurt Logan even worse. If they both fell into the same trap -- What would happen? He stepped out of the shower, carefully, toweling off. Something - a sense you stole, his mind whispered - warned him. There was someone in his room. He sniffed, finished toweling off, and came out. "Whaddaya want, Gumbo? And before we throw down, I know. And I can find him." * * * * * * * True to his promise that night, in the morning he didn't question her about the intel, or when they would move, or even accusatory glances. He left her to do whatever it was that she thought needed to be done. And she found that working with him, under those conditions, wasn't half bad. They poured over the schematics of the buildings, really just satellite imaging, and the information that Kai had acquired over the two week period. He had some wonderful suggestions about escaping, and instead of arguing about it, they debated which of the large underground rooms could possibly be the hanger. He was ready before she was that night, dressed in his armor and mask, looking decidedly ready to get down to business. She did note, however, that with his weapons, there was a cigar. And he didn't usually smoke cigars, according to the information she'd had scrounged up before she came to him. It mattered little more than giving her something halfway decent to smell as they made their to their rented car and out towards the complex. He was quiet, driving in his usual style - faster than everything on the road but just the right speed - until they were nearly at the stop point. "So the intel Fred gave you didn't agree with something another contact had?" She blinked out of an almost meditative state. "Uhm . . . yeah. I had thought we had another few days. But he's - was - usually very reliable, and it's very likely that they've stepped up the date." "Likely? I doubt it. Both sides believe that you're dead, remember?" She rubbed the back of her neck. Actually, that was true. The Russians had seen her die, and the Croats had seen a woman of her description die. Of course, if they discovered that they had both killed her, she was in for trouble. "What does that have to do-" "They only have to worry about me, now." Kai thought about that a moment. The tone was neutral enough. "Are you insinuating that I got myself shot on purpose twice so that I would have an easier in than you?" His smile was almost humorless. "No. But that sounds like a great plan, don't you think?" She turned to stare at him. "You don't get shot much, do you." He smiled again. "Not on a daily basis, at any rate." She blinked. Was he joking? They hadn't said a word about that night since, just worked together smoothly, and now he was back to joking? "Yeah, well, trust me, there is no feeling like a bullet being pushed out of your body by healing muscles." "Logan told me once it kinda tickled." Kai managed a small smile. "I don't think he's going to be telling you anything, now. For a while, anyway." They were silent, only the hum of the pavement under the tires and the slow fan in the dash broke the silence. "Yeah, I think you're right." He sounded so convinced she actually looked at him. "Handwriting," he said by way of explanation. She remembered the handwritten note, and the words he'd closed with. And North? If you find me, you make the call. "Usually neat, I take it?" Maverick nodded distractedly. "Unbelievably neat. Beautiful, actually. Got even nicer when Mariko-" He suddenly seemed to wake up, and his jaw closed with an audible snap. "She worked on his Japanese writing style. That what you were about to say?" He nodded. then paused. "So how much info does your group keep on him?" Again, the tone and manner were casual. She sighed. He deserved a straight answer. "We've flagged a few of the people out there that are potentially dangerous. Just gather intel, in case we ever come across them, or find something that seems their style. Have an extensive file on Creed. You're the one I had to do my homework on, though." Maverick just nodded. "So the killings tipped you off to Logan?" She nodded, returning her attention to the road. "Had my choice of killers, actually. Logan just happened to be the one in the hallway. I was sent to stop the assassin." "Stop the assassin, eh? So you were supposed to kill him?" She sighed. "I was supposed to kill the persons responsible for the killings. I saw the kind of condition he was in, and concluded he wasn't responsible." Maverick was silent until they pulled the vehicle off the road, ten miles from the complex. "We walk." He brooked no argument, though this was still three miles farther off than intel had said they searched. Probably a wise precaution. They stayed within hearing distance of each other for the first nine, and then Maverick moved away. He was to attack from the east, she from the west. Though predictable, there was little they could do other than split their forces at least semi-equally, and the move afforded them both a break. She caught and left the tripwires still set, rather than give away that someone was there by disarming them. She did make a mental note of their locations, looking for some feature of the landscape to warn her should she come back this way fast. Her footsteps in the snow would do, though she'd been carefully stepping on rocks and roots to hide them. And then she saw the lights up ahead, and crouched at the tree line. She sniffed, the breeze blowing her way, as the Weather Channel had promised earlier that day. Didn't smell dogs - one small advantage. They had razorwire between the fences at this complex, which in of itself was nasty, but could not chase you down and rip your throat out. So far, so good. She glanced at her watch and counted the ten minutes it would take Maverick to get to the other side and give him an opportunity to find a good entry spot. This was the important move. If either one of them didn't draw their end of the fire - messy wouldn't begin to cover this operation, and Darius would be, to put it mildly, damned furious. Still the seconds ticked by, and no motion from the complex. She huddled in the shadows and underbrush, cursing the cold. And it was _cold_. She hated cold. Down to one-thirty. Down to one. Down to thirty. She idly checked her guns, knowing they were ready, knowing she'd done this a half dozen times before they left the motel and at least a dozen on the drive in- The back of her neck prickled. Kai leapt right. Kai leapt wrong. * * * * * * *