EVERYBODY NEEDS A HERO

Part IV: Awakenings

By Emily Snyder

“So, what can you do, exactly, Tangerine?”

“I’m a telepath. Why, Meg?”

“That’s marvelous! Utterly marvelous!” cried Meggan.

“Oh? And what can I do with said powers that will help us? I’ve not really been too intensively trained.”

“Um, well, let’s see. Can you, um, knock people out?”

“Sort of…” Tangerine wrinkled her nose, “It makes my head spin…”

“Well… err… How many can you get at once?” Meggan’s impulse was to rise and begin pacing, but the pain in her injuries made her wince and sit back down.

“Hmm… um, about eight… I guess.”

“Is that going to help? Do you know how many guards there are?”

“Eight’s no good… there are at least fifteen outside each cell…”

Meggan thought about it for a moment more, then sat down, looking considerably dejected.

“Oh poo…”

Tangerine smiled at Meggan’s mild profanity, since the woman’s mind was saying something considerably stronger.

A bit farther down the hall, Moira MacTaggart sat grumpily in her own cell. What was wrong with that Strickland fellow, anyway? He seemed a bit off in the head to Moira.

She ran her hands down the cell wall, looking for weak points where the metal might have rusted or warped. Looking up, she saw that the cell stretched far above her head and the reach of her hands. She spat a string of Gaelic curses, and tried to jump so she could check a little higher.

“Oww!” she cried, landing on her ankle and twisting it at an odd angle. She spat a few more oaths when she felt her ankle and found that one of the bones had snapped when she’d landed incorrectly.

She dragged herself up to the window in the huge metal door and leaned heavily on it for support. She put on her best ‘poor wee Moira’ voice and whimpered, “Sir, A believe A’ve broken me ankle. Kin ye get a doctor tae look at et?”

The guard was a young Englishman who, in spite of his job, hated to see anyone in pain, and he said, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be right back. Sit tight, eh?”

“Aye.”

The young man, Andrew Smith, hurried down the corridors lined with cells and knocked on Strickland’s office door.

“Who is it?”

“Smith, Mister Strickland.”

“Come in, then, Smith. What is it?”

“Sir, that MacTaggart woman thinks she’s broken her ankle and wants a doctor to look at it. Would it be all right if…”

“No. It wouldn’t. Stupid question, Smith. She’s a prisoner, and ten to one she’s broken her ankle trying to find a way out.”

“Oh… well, then, sorry to take up your time, sir.” Andrew ground his teeth, and thought about slimy bosses.

“See that you don’t do it again.”

“Yes, sir.” He walked out, still grinding his teeth.

‘Blast Strickland, anyway! What does he know about kindness? Nothing! The man’s crazy, and that’s the plain truth. Black Air should send him to the psycho ward, or something. I’ll be damned if I don’t help that lady!’ Smith thought to himself as he returned to Moira’s cell.

His footsteps were loud on the floor, which was made of the same alien metal as the cells, and Moira heard him coming and decided to play her role to death. She let out a fake but convincing ‘pain-stricken’ moan, and sucked the air in through her teeth to make a hissing noise. Smith, fooled, opened the door.

“Are you all right?”

“Nae. Does it look like A’m okay?” Her sarcasm hurt Smith’s feelings slightly, but he asked which ankle she thought was broken, and she told him it was the right.

He took her ankle in his hands and carefully felt around. He found the broken bone.

“Ma’am, I’ll be right back. Your ankle is broken, and I need something to make a splint or cast with.”

“Thank ye.”

Moira looked around her cell, pondering the stark, shiny walls until Andrew returned with some tongue depressors, bandages, and medical tape.

“This is all I could manage to nick. Sorry.”

“That’s a’right, laddie. Tape some o’ those depressors t’gether to make a sturdy backin’ f’r the splint.”

He taped about ten of the tongue depressors together, as she’d asked. “Make another one o’ those, nae.”

He taped ten more together. “Is this good?”

“Aye. Now, set th’ bone and put the splints on either side.”

He took her ankle in his hands again and pushed the bone back to where it belonged. She didn’t scream, which he thought was great. He put one of the makeshift splints on each side of her ankle and wrapped the whole thing in bandages and tape.

Moira frowned. He used too many bandages, but that was all right, she guessed.

“Thank ye, lad. An’ what’s yuir name?”

“Smith.”

“Yuir first name! A’m nae interested in yuir surname…”

“Andrew.”

She smiled at him, and he decided that she was rather beautiful, for an older lady.

“Well, good then, Andrew. Thank ye.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Sae, hae many others o’ Excalibur have ye got in this complex?”

“One… Meggan. There’s a young mutant girl in the cell with her, named Tangerine. She’s a telepath.”

“Oh… well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Go where?”

“Away! Ye ken where Meggan’s cell is, aye?”

“Yes…”

In the small room in the Flit, Brian Braddock’s eyes fluttered open gradually. He tried to sit up, but failed. He ached everywhere, and everything felt heavy.

“Oof!” he said, trying to sit up again. Where was he? Last thing he remembered was being beaten up, then listening to Kurt in the medlab at Muir. His surroundings slowly began to register on his brain, and he realized he was in the Moonlight Flit.

“Huh? Why aren’t I at Muir? And where’s Meggan?”

“Meggan is most likely in a containment cell at Black Air, mein Freund.”

“WHAT?” Brian cried, wincing at the pain the effort caused.

“We’re on it, Brian, we’ll find her…”

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Brian started to get up, but the room quickly began to spin around him, and he lay back down.

“We can’t, Brian! You’re still too weak, and we don’t even know where Black Air is stationed now. Pete is looking into it…”

“Oh, well then, if anyone can find Black Air, it’s the scum that used to work for them. I guess we’d better sit back and wait, then…”

“Ja, that’s a good idea…”

“No, it’s not, Kurt! My wife is in their hands, and I’m not going to leave it to the foulest of the foul ones. I’m going after her myself as soon as I’m well enough to stand!”

“Brian…”

“My mind is made up! Don’t try to convince me not to! It’ll only make me mad! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to rest and get well!”

Kurt sighed…

Pete Wisdom wasn’t any happier with Black Air than Brian was. In fact, he was angrier at them, if that were possible. He decided that at least he had a chance to redeem himself, and tried another internet search. The keyword ‘Black Air’ was getting him a lot of environmentalist and anti-smoking sites. Even so, he carefully checked each site, knowing that if he skipped just one, he might miss vital information.

He finally hit on one that looked promising. He cruised around, seeing basic information about hierarchy, functions, et cetera. He clicked a link and got a password-protected page. He started trying bits of intelligence agency trivia. Black Air always used such trivia answers for passwords.

Moira was losing patience…

“Sae, we can go down t’ Meggan’s cell, get her out, and make a break f’r it. A’ve got a nice cushy job waitin’ f’r ye as a research assistant.”

“I guess we could say that Strickland wants to see you two.”

“Aye, tha’s et.”

“Alright, then. I’ll go and get Meggan.”

Smith went down the hall to Meggan’s cell, told the guards around it that Strickland wanted to see her, and went in. “Meggan, Strickland wants to see you!” he said aloud. Under his breath, he explained the simple plan he and Moira had cooked up.

“I’m not going without Tangerine!”

Smith sighed and led the two of them out of the cell and back down the hall to Moira. He let Moira out and supported her with his arm, not allowing her to put any weight on the ankle.

Now, he thought, came the hard part. He had to get them past Strickland. He remembered that the window on the boss’s door was high up, so that he could duck down and sneak past. He did so, and told the rest of the guards on the way out that Strickland had told him to let the prisoners go. Once they were outside, he took the inhibitor off Meggan and she lifted them away from the stark building and towards Muir.

Pete had exhausted all his head knowledge and was resorting to a thick tome called “The History of Intelligence Agencies.” He had tried each date, statistic, and name the book told him about for the last three hours. He finally entered the right password, and ended up on a site that listed every Black Air compound in the world. He clicked the first one and ended up with another list of links. He clicked ‘detainees of this compound’ and got a list of the prisoners. Meggan and Moira were not listed. He clicked the back button and tried again, going down the list methodically.

Rahne sat in the tiny galley in the Moonlight Flit, eating some cheese and an apple. She pondered Excalibur. It’d been a great time, as she remembered, and almost as much fun as her tenure with X-Factor. Thinking of X-Factor made her remember the people there: Jamie, Guido, and… oh, this made her blush… Alex!

Kurt wandered in, and wondered why she was blushing so, but decided to respect her privacy and didn’t ask. Instead, he said brightly, “Guten tag! I hope you are well this morning, Rahne.”

She blushed deeper, and told him she was fine. “How are ye, Kurt?”

“Not so good. Brian has had what one might call a ‘hissy fit’!”

“Ach, aboot Pete looking f’r Meggan?”

“Ja.”

“Laird.”

“I agree…”

The Black Air operatives planted explosives neatly throughout the Muir Island research station. Two bombs were placed in each room and closet to make sure that nothing escaped destruction. The computer files had already been saved to CD-ROMs so that no information would go to waste. The operatives wired the explosives to be detonated by remote control, and hurried out of the complex to the fortified viewing deck on the other side of the island.

The demolition expert looked at the red button on the wall of the viewing deck. He loved blowing things up; bombs were so much more fun than wrecking balls. Slowly and deliberately, he pressed the button…

An explosion ripped through the building. The expert smiled happily. Things like that were always so beautiful.

The smoke slowly cleared. All that was left of the Muir Island Research Station was a pile of debris…

NEXT ISSUE: Pete finally finds the right Black Air station, as Moira and company make their way back to what’s left of Muir Island!