Kitty Pryde, Pete Wisdom, Excalibur, the X-Men and all characters therein are trademarks of Marvel Comics. This story is an unauthorised work done purely for my personal enjoyment, and is not intended to infringe on any of their rights in or their profits from these characters. But this story is copy write to me.

Comments, especially (constructive) criticism, always welcomed. Please e-mail me at mshakespeare@callnetuk.com

Notes

This story follows the events of "What if Pete had killed Peter?"

Prepare for a little doom and gloom, people!

* * indicates telepathy

< > indicates thoughts

A Long Journey Into Night - part 4

Flanders strolled over to the small table, to pour himself a scotch before continuing with his entertainment. A smile split his face - yes, whipping a nubile young woman was as enjoyable as he'd hoped it would be. True, she wasn't screaming properly, due to the gag which had been inserted into her mouth in order to prevent her trying to bite him, but that didn't lessen his pleasure too much. It was the knowledge of how much she was hurting that gave him the pleasure, more than the sound of her cries. The feel of the whip in his hand, the sound it made as he swung it to strike its target, the red welts appearing on pale skin, the writhing and bucking of her body as she absorbed the pain - they were what thrilled him so much. He turned back to savour the sight of his endeavours. He had whipped the girl repeatedly across her upthrust, defenseless buttocks, the weals crossing one another until they had bled, little red trickles that made their way down her thighs. Her backside and thighs were a mass of welts and cuts, turning purple even as he watched. He drank in the view, his eyes resting on the crack between her buttocks, as well as the exposed pink opening between her thighs. He rubbed the front of his trousers, feeling the column erect against the fabric. Flanders smiled to himself. Before the night was done, he fully intended to sink himself into both exposed openings, repeatedly. He swallowed some of the alcohol, then wandered over to his music centre to put on something as background music. <Perhaps 'The Rape of Lucretia'? Appropriate, anyway, but maybe not. 'Carmina Burana' - yes, that would be more enjoyable, I think.> He placed the CD in the tray, and frowned as a flash of silver light came from behind him. <One of the lights must have blown. Damn. I'll have to replace it sometime. But not before I've had my fun with the girl, I think...> He began to play the music, and turned back to his victim.

The glowing sword rested its tip against his throat, light blazing from the flames along its length, held firmly in the armoured gauntlet. The restraints hung limply from the left wrist, broken by tremendous force.

"Having a little fun, were we, you bastard?" The free left hand shot out to grasp him by the throat, choking off his air. The silver-armoured figure pushed him to his knees. Flanders felt his legs begin to tremble when he saw the red fire burning in the eyes of the girl holding him captive. She bent closer. "Well, now it's my turn for some fun." She looked at the gleaming blade. "Got any idea what we can do to him? I'm kinda new to this." She smiled at him, a smile which made him feel faint. "Illyana spent years resisting this thing's siren call. I can't be bothered. So, let's get started."

*****************************************

The helicopter flew low over the sea, its rotors whirring, the interior illuminated only by a dim red light set on either wall. The seven armoured figures seated around the walls checked their weapons over again, then sat back, waiting for their arrival at the attack point.

Pete forced himself to swallow down the hatred and anger burning in his heart at the thought of the girl he loved in the hands of Black Air's sadists. Anger would make him reckless, and he couldn't let his guard down, not until Kitty was safe and Black Air dealt with once and for all. He checked the rifle once more, and shot a baleful glance at Lockheed, curled up on one of the spare seats. It irritated him to have the little alien along, let alone for the dragon to accompany him when they arrived, but he was honest enough to admit that Lockheed had every right to come on the mission - after all, he'd known Kitty longer than Pete had, had saved Pete's life, had been the one to alert him to Kitty's fate. And besides, they'd need all the firepower possible when they finally attacked - pun intended.

The former spy finally satisfied himself that the plasma rifle he carried was as effective and reliable as it could be, and turned his attention to the infrared headgear which they all wore. The mutant power jamming equipment which his informant had told him was active inside the base made it imperative for the rescuers to use all of the technology available to them, at least until the machinery could be disabled. Once that had been done, it was going to be killing time....

Lockheed growled softly to himself. He'd seen 'Stinky''s look, but had other things on his mind at the time, specifically, what His Kitty might be going through. The little alien had been prepared to burn attackers in order to save her before now, and would be more than happy to fry Black Air. Thoughts of vengeance filled his mind. The purple dragon let them come - the better to blot out images of the torture His Kitty might even now be facing.

Logan popped his claws out through his gauntlets one more time, satisfied that the metal of the gloves would not interfere with their smooth operation. He checked the fusion grenades clipped to his belt. <Yup, ten-second fuse, just what's needed. Don't want the flamin' things blowin' up in yer own hand, bub. Not when that anti-mutant shit's preventin' the ol' healin' factor from workin'. Better not be in there too long, otherwise the ol' Adamantium'll start poisonin' me. Just long enough ta free Kit an' kill those sons-o-bitches fer killin' Kurt an' Mandy. They were goin' ta make me the godfather o' any kids they had, an' I'll take that out o' the hides o' the murderin' bastards. Same as I'll kill the scum fer hurtin' my girl, my daughter, even if we ain't seen enough o' each other since the Russkie died. I shoulda kept up ccontact more, despite what Charlie an' 'Ro mighta said, I shoulda found out about this shit earlier, an' done somethin'. But I c'n make amends. There ain't goin' ta be any survivors once I get through there, 'cause I'll do 'em all, 'less Wisdom or Lockheed finishes 'em off first.>

Betsy's demeanour was icy calm and controlled, but inside she was seething with anger for those who would inflict such pain and torment on another. The Hand had done something similar to her when they'd had her captive, and she'd had a hatred of anyone who was ready to carry out such experimentation on another human being. The rebodied English telepath felt that death was too easy a fate for anyone who would treat another person as a 'thing', an 'object', to be used and thrown away. And she would have revenge for Brian and Meggan. Her brother, her twin - she had felt him die, felt a gap torn in her very soul, which had told her Brian was dead. Though there had often been a friendly rivalry between them, she had loved her brother. And then there was Meggan. The kindest, gentlest person Betsy had ever met, someone whose generous nature and sweetness had brightened the oives of everyone around her. And Black Air had snuffed out her life. Now Betsy would make them pay. She had never been a particularly kindhearted person - in fact, she could be ruthless when necessary - and she would not hold back. Her katana would have their blood, she swore to herself, these men would never have the opportunity to carry out their foul experiments on anyone else, never get to kill any more mutants just because they stood in the way. <Never again.>

It was a sentiment with which Domino would have completely agreed, if she had been asked. Having been a lab rat for Tolliver's scientists, she wondered if any familiar faces would be seen when they entered the complex. She was looking forward to settling a few scores if she did see anyone from those days. <I'll put a fucking dumdum bullet through their faces if they are there.>

*You won't be the only one, Dom. *

* What, you'll kill any of Tolliver's old cronies if you see them? You'll have to wait in line, Nate - I get first dibs on any of those bastards!*

*No, I meant I'll kill the scum who treat other people as guinea pigs for their experiments. I swore an oath once, to Rachel, even if she wasn't there to hear it, that I'd look after Kitty, for Ray's sake. I meant every word. And I'll blow the brains out of her torturers, happily. Don't forget what Stryfe did to Aliya. I hate the sort of people who do that, no matter who they might do it to, and I'll see them all dead before I walk away from this.*

Rogue and Gambit sat apart from the others, in their own bubble of silence. Holding hands, they looked at one another, not speaking. They both knew what they would have to do when they got to Black Air's base inside Rockall, and they weren't looking forward to it. Of all those aboard the helicopter, they were the least gung-ho about what was to come, the attitudes of the X-Men towards killing having rubbed off on the pair of them, and the most out of practice at the use of lethal violence. But they would do what needed doing, and they would kill whoever needed killing..

The light above the door to the cockpit flashed. "Five minutes, people. This is where it gets fun." Pete stood, shouldered his gun, and began to count the seconds in his head.

***************************************************

The stunning blonde riffled through the reports until she found the one she'd been looking for. She opened it and began to read. The contents were such that she allowed a small smile to touch her lips, though it never reached her eyes. No smile ever did. It was rumoured amongst the personnel of Black Air that Scicluna had been born with a calculating look etched on her face. It was there now.

The document detailed the shortcomings of a member of the EU anti-corruption task force, along with ways in which they could be exploited. 'Turning' such a man would allow Black Air to insinuate its own operatives into the very heart of Europe's decision-making apparatus. The opportunities to siphon off the aid money floating around the continent in order to further Black Air's ends was an opportunity too good to miss. She noted in passing that the auditors were to be led by a Finnish woman with a reputation for diligence and probity. <There'll be a weakness, there always is. It's just a matter of finding the right lever to use. If not, well there's always an unfortunate accident...>

She replaced the file in the tray, and leant back in her chair, eyes narrowed, as she thought of tomorrow's experiments. She hated Pryde with a vengeance, hated her for destroying Black Air's original plans to take over Britain and mold it in their image, hated her for humiliating the organization which Scicluna had built up over the years with the invaluable assistance of Threadgold. She was looking forward to seeing the mutant brat dying in agony for Black Air's ends.

****************************************

"Let's check up on old Flanders. He had that mutie slut for some fun. Let's see if he's willing to let us have a turn." The assembled personnel laughed at that. They were in the mood for some fun, and had little opportunity to get to a city to find themselves women, willing or otherwise. The thought of taking their pleasure with the mutie bitch, as their comrades in arms had done earlier that day, was an appealing one to all of them. They diverted their course to take them to the older man's quarters.

There was no answer when they pressed the buzzer. "Huh, maybe he's too occupied."

"Nah, he'd still hear us. Hey, Flanders, you in there or not?" One of the young men pressed the door, and was surprised when it swung open. Inside, the room was dark, no light being seen from any part of the small suite of rooms. The first man entered, hand groping for the light switch. A quiet, scuffling sound made him pause. "Flanders?"

"Come in." The younger man hesitated, feeling that something was not right. It was the older man's voice, all right, but it sounder strange... empty of feeling, cold, emotionless. But it was him, Flanders. "Hey, mate, your light's not working."

"I know. I'm trying to find a spare bulb." Somewhere in the darkness, the young soldier heard movement, then a shape appeared in the darkness, a deeper black than that of the room itself. "I need more light before I can continue with my... fun."

The soldier turned to the rest of the squad. "Come on, lads, if we find the bloke's bulb, he might let us watch - or even take part." There were grunts of assent, and answering grins, as the rest of the men agreed with his assessment. The six of them entered the apartment. "So, where do you keep the spares, anyway?"

The door swung shut behind them. Turning in surprise, they saw, leaning against the wooden doorframe, a figure clad in silvery armour. They gaped as they saw the spikes protruding from the metal, and the long blade flickering with unholy light. Then they saw the face within which the eyes glowed blood-red. "Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly." She walked forwards, sword levelled at them. "Well now, it appears as though I might have a few more 'assistants' for my plans. How nice. You can join Flanders, here, doing my bidding." She gestured to the figure of the old man, who flicked a light switch. The younger men blinked as the bright light hit their eyes, then gasped in horror as they saw the old man, eyes burnt from their sockets, lips curled back from teeth, blackened tongue protruding from between the broken ivory, a gaping hole in his chest where his heart had been. "Oh, don't worry, he isn't completely gone. In fact, his spirit's still in residence, though bound to obey me in all things. One of the joys of Necromancy is that those you raise have no free will, and so can't rebel, no matter what you get the dead to do, such as turn on their former friends and comrades. As you'll find out." She made a gesture, and from the corners of the room, creatures began to emerge. Hideous, misshapen, grotesque.... demons. The six soldiers were surrounded by them. More crawled across the ceiling, positioning themselves above the men. "Take them, my pets."

The men grabbed for the pistols at their waists.

***************************************

Scicluna pressed the communicator button in answer to the buzzer. "What the hell's going on? The defense systems have detected gunfire inside the complex! What the hell is going on, and what are you doing about it?"

"We don't know exactly what happened, ma'am." The voice came through loud and clear over the intercom, tense and concerned. Like his boss, the duty officer couldn't understand how their security had been breached. "We've dispatched a fast-response squad to find out what's going on. However, since the gunfire came from Flanders' rooms--"

"Pryde. The little slut must have overpowered him somehow. Capture if possible, but kill if necessary. Whatever happens, Lieutenant, don't let the bitch escape. I'm holding you responsible...."

*****************************************

The dozen men and women in the squad took up guard positions around the quarters from which the alarms had sounded, weapons levelled at the door. Their eyes were cold and hard as they waited for some sign of what was happening within. All of them were cold-hearted killers, who would murder without remorse, and had done in the past. They knew that the defenses of the base would already be analyzing the signature of those inside the room suite, and, if a mutant was detected, neutralizing their powers, whatever they might be. Once they had received the signal that the target had no mutant powers, they would move in to capture or destroy them. Not before.

The microcomputer on the wrist of the squad leader showed a blue light when she tapped in a coded command. "Okay, they're powerless, lets get them. It's most probably Pryde, since these are Flanders' quarters. So keep her at long range, so she can't use her martial arts skills, and you'll be all right. Right, let's - "

The door to the old man's rooms burst open, and the soldiers began firing by reflex, taking the sudden eruption to be an attack. But the six men who came through the open door didn't fall. Instead, they levelled their own guns and opened fire. The troopers emptied their rifles into the men, but to no effect. Then the squad leader saw why.

Gaping wounds covered their bodies, throats hung open, hearts were missing, and she knew that they were all dead - and the dead are hard to kill a second time. The guns of the Undead, however, could kill the living with ease. One by one, the soldiers fell, shot through throat or eye, where their armour didn't protect them, and when half the squad were down, the NCO signalled retreat. Then she engaged the command frequency. "We're falling back. Somehow, she's killed a bunch of men and raised them from the dead. We can't stop them, our bullets don't do enough - " She paused, eyes widening with horror.

"What? What is it, Corporal?"

"The men I just lost - they're getting up again! They - they're joining the other Undead and attacking us!" There was a burst of fire.

"Corporal, fall back, and we'll send in the robots."

"Corporal?"

"Corporal, respond!"

****************************************

By now, alarms were beginning to blare all over the complex. Men donned their combat armour and grabbed their weapons, laser rifles or assault rifles, grenades, automatic shotguns, even flame-throwers. The battle robots began to move towards the source of the disturbance.

The commotion made it easy for the defenders to overlook the arrival of intruders in their midst. From the shadows in an unlit corridor stepped seven people and a little purple dragon. They stopped, amazed, at the sounds of alarms screaming out a warning, and the running feet of scores of men. "Wot the fuckin' 'ell's goin' on 'ere?! They can't've responded that fast, can they?!"

"Don't think so, bub, else they'd be comin' down here ta fight us." Logan sniffed the air, then grimaced in annoyance - his keen senses would soon be blocked by the jamming system, when it got a lock on him. "They're spooked. Still, they're not lookin' for us right now, so let's get movin'."

Pete shook himself. "Right. First things first, the control room. Let's 'ope it ain't too strongly defended." The group moved off, weapons ready for combat, moving as fast as they could manage without risking being discovered by the staff of the research base.

****************************************

The alarm within the control system cut through the clamour of the staff there. One of the men leant over, and swore. "Fucking hell! We've got another seven mutants detected inside the base, and some of their signatures are recognisable, plus a alien lifeform. Let's see, we've got Wolverine, Psylocke, Rogue, Gambit, Cable - and Pete Wisdom!"

"That traitor!" The officer in charge spun to stare at the operator. "Now's our chance to settle scores with that bastard, whilst his powers don't work. Wait a minute, you mentioned seven, but you only named six, and an alien!"

"Yeah, there's another signature, one we don't have in our databases, so it's not one of the X-Men, and not a prominent mutie. But if Cable's here, it could be his sidekick, Domino. As for the alien - Lockheed. The little bastard's evaded us up until now...."

The officer grinned. "So, all the hardcases, eh? Come to do some damage and rescue their friend? We'll see about that! Without their powers, they're crippled. Inform Scicluna of the new arrivals, and dispatch half a dozen robots plus a couple of squads down there to deal with them." The man smiled, then a frown appeared on his face. If they had no powers, how had they gotten in?

****************************************

The shining figure stepped over to the groaning shape on the ground. The soldier had been shot in the stomach by a burst of automatic weapons fire, and lay bleeding to death, but he would suffice. A metal gauntleted fist reached down and seized the man by his hair, ignoring his scream of pain. The free right hand lifted the fiery sword high over her head.

"Demons of darkness and death,
Hear my call to arms!
Blood calls to blood,
Death calls to thee.
A life opens the door,
That you may cross,
Blood for the taking,
Lives for the slaying."

The blade descended into the soldier's heart, sizzling as it did so, and a sickening stench of burning flesh filled the air. Kitty smiled cruelly. Though before, when Illyana had borne it, the Soulsword had only affected magic and the possessed, it could do more, if the bearer so wished. And Kitty did.

Before, she would never have so readily taken the life of another, not one who was helpless. Only once before had she deliberately killed. Anjulie, the murderous ruler of an alternate Earth, she had run through with a sword from behind. But the woman had held a knife and been about to kill a friend, not a helpless, dying man.

But the Kitty that had been then was no more. This Kitty had found depths of cruelty and viciousness within her that the younger Kitty had never known she'd had. The attentions of the experts of Black Air had shorn her of her innocence, and unleashed the anger and vengefulness which she'd always fought to contain and command. Now Black Air would reap the whirlwind of her dark side.

As she held the Soulsword aloft, and the blood of the soldier spilt onto the floor, a great tear seemed to appear in the air itself.

And from the tear stepped demons, far greater and more powerful than the minor ones she'd summoned before. These were monstrous killing machines of tremendous strength, cruelty and bloodlust, thirteen of them in total. They saluted the Darkchilde.

She raised her blade high overhead. "Now let Black Air discover the depths of my hatred!" With that, she strode towards the upper levels of the base, where Black Air's high command had their offices, and her unholy army followed behind.

*****************************************

The first robot came round the corner, weapons ready to fire, and the fusion grenade hit it in the chest, blowing it to kingdom come. Pete grinned in satisfaction, then dropped prone as soldiers followed the now destroyed machine, firing laser rifles as they came. Rogue and Gambit, immediately behind him, opened return fire, plasma bolts tearing through the troops' body armour as if it were paper, then Domino lobbed a couple of fusion grenades down to the end of the corridor, and the blasts took out the fresh troops coming along behind those that had already been shot down. Logan and Nathan doubled forward, weapons held at the waist, keeping low so as not to block the line of fire of the others. As more men came round the corner, Logan leapt into them, claws extruding through the combat armour he wore, and the Adamantium blades began to rip the soldiers apart, as the feral X-Man became a killing machine.

Betsy, watching their backs, spotted movement behind them, and opened fire, cutting down the enemy trying to sneak up and catch them unawares. A couple of grenades finished them off, then the rebodied telepath turned her attention to the problem of how best to get to the control room through the intervening defenders. Something was obviously drawing their attention, and most helpful it was too, but they still had to reach their objective. She thought for a few seconds, them smiled.

"'Ad an idea, chere? Care t' share it wit' us?" She glanced at Remy, crouched against the wall, rifle levelled at the fighting at the end of the corridor.

"We're X-Men, aren't we? And we all know about how the team always leaves a trail of destruction behind them, right? So, why not cause a little more of the damage for which we're famous?"

The Cajun's eyes widened in sudden understanding, as did those of Rogue, next to the smooth-talking ex-thief. As one, the three of them raised their plasma rifles, pointed them at the opposite wall, and fired.

The smoke cleared a few seconds after the blast. Betsy smiled. "Instant doorway."

***********************************************

Scicluna swore to herself. Somehow, the X-Men had penetrated the complex and, despite their lack of powers, seemed to be holding her troops at bay, and even wrecking a number of the defense robots. The tactical display made her certain that she knew the target for the mutant band - the master control room. There, they would be able to shut down the defense systems, and allow them to use their mutant powers freely. <Well, it's a good plan, but it has an unfortunate weakness. That is, I can transfer the control of the systems to my own computer here, and thus prevent the X-Men from shutting the systems down. Then their strike at the control room will not achieve anything.

<As for the brat, how can the troops have failed to kill her? She has no access to weapons. And what about those killed by her supposedly coming back from the dead? They must be talking rubbish, making excuses for their failure to recapture her. Well, I will not tolerate failure from my subordinates. Nor will I have the little bitch regain her freedom, not after the trouble she caused us before. So, if she is free, what are her weaknesses? She has to breathe, for one thing..... Yes, a team with knockout gas grenades should suffice. Or else electrostatic weapons, given that they will affect her even if she's phased.> Scicluna reached for the communication suite's microphone.

***************************************

The plane flew low over the water, its engines propelling it faster than it should have been able to travel. The Blackbird had full stealth mode engaged, and no radar of earthly manufacture would detect it. Inside, the X-Men discussed their plan of attack.

"You sure that SHIELD were on the level, Scott? They're not using us for their own ends, right?" Bobby glanced over at Warren, seeing the other man nod his agreement, then looked forward again. He grinned wryly to himself - the team clown had grown up, he thought.

Scott, hands on the controls, shrugged. "Fury answered my question, that's all I can say, Bobby. A helicopter filled with a number of people matching the descriptions of Logan and the others took off from a base on the west coast of Britain and headed north, towards a small rock in the middle of the North Atlantic, Rockall. They tracked it for a short while, before it engaged stealth mode and disappeared from their radar systems. So we have to assume that the Black Air base they talked about must be there. If not, we'll look around until we find it. Jean, you'll be able to spot any shielded areas, right?"

His wife nodded. "The psychic plane should extend everywhere. If there's an area blocked off, it's noticeable, unless there's other distractions, such as a large number of people around. In this case, in the middle of nowhere, it should be easy."

"Good. Storm - "

"I know, Cyclops. A storm, to blind their sensor systems and hopefully disable any screens they might have, as well as interfere with their communications. Then we enter. Professor, are you ready?"

The mental image of the X-Men's mentor smiled tightly. *Of course, Ororo. I was a soldier before you were even born. I know what is needed. We must prevent Logan and the others from acting like so many of our foes, making irreversible mistakes, we must reassert our authority over the recalcitrant members of the team, and subdue these 'Black Air' thugs without causing an incident which might further prejudice relations between humans and mutants. And we must rescue Kitty.* Of course, the crippled telepath would himself not enter the base, but would support the others from without.

<Nice to know your priorities are that way round, Professor.> But Danielle said nothing out loud, merely glanced at Sam, noting that he too had caught Xavier's stress on the stopping the others from killing, more than saving Kitty. Then the Cheyenne leant back in her seat. <But what if it's too late, Professor? What if the others have already killed? What then? After all, look at us in X-Force, sitting apart from your precious X-Men. Because you don't think we uphold your precious 'Dream' the way it should be upheld. So what will you do if Logan, Rogue, Gambit and the others have already started killing? Will your hard-line attitude split the X-Men down the middle, forever?>

****************************************************

The army of Undead and demons swelled ever greater, as more and more base defenders were killed and incorporated into their ranks. Those robots which attempted to stop them were destroyed by the mighty demons Kitty had summoned for just that purpose. By now nearly fifty base personnel made up her army.

The numbers of troops facing them were falling. Not just because those who opposed her were being killed and raised as Undead warriors on her behalf, but, Kitty sensed, because someone or something else was drawing off their strength. <All to the good. My prime targets now are the scientists who used me as their test bed for their experiments, Scicluna and Threadgold - I want those two. I want them to suffer as I suffered. I want to hear them scream in agony. First, though, to recruit a few more warriors to my army. And I know just where to get them....>

One of the powerful demons she'd summoned earlier raised a clawed fist and smashed it through the floor. Kitty smiled and dropped through the opening. Into the experimental slave pens, where Black Air's future test subjects were held until needed. A score of eyes met hers, and she grinned in delight. Here were the additional fighters she required for victory.

****************************************

FIN