Happersen nodded, then, after a moment, “Yes sirV’
Sharpe seemed marginally satisfied. “Now, we run this simulation again with the others. Then we go through the dossiers and find people closer to them and run it again. By the time we’re through, we’ll have them pitching their own grandmothers off a building without even blinking.”
“This,” said Black, looking out the hotel window, “was not supposed to happen.”
“Save it for your memoirs,” said Monet, who was helping Ev pile furniture in front of the doors.
“There’ll be people on the stairs and elevators,” said Espeth. “They may be in the halls already.”
“Well, duh,” said Ev, as he walked by carrying a dresser. “Does it look like we’re going out that way?”
Paige was leaning against the frame of the window, trying to see out without exposing herself. “There must be fifty of them that I can see,” she said, “but at least they don’t seem to be carrying guns.”
“Of course not,” said Black, indignantly.
She grunted. “Well, after one of your goons opened fire on Jono and I yesterday, I’m not going to take it for granted.” “What?” Black paced the length of the room. “That’s not possible.”
“Listen,” said Paige, “if I hadn’t been metaled up, I’d have a few holes for show-and-tell. I had some pretty impressive dents at the time though.”
“This,” said Black, “has gotten totally out of control. This is not what we do”
“Tell that,” said Jubilee, “to your buddies downstairs.” “What was it you were saying,” said Espeth, “about living with the consequences of your actions?”
Black scowled, motionless in the swarm of activity going on around him. “We’ll go out the window,” said Paige, “punch our way through to the Xabago, then improvise.”
“I can do like the amazing Spider-Boy,” said Angelo, demonstrating by “thwipping” his fingers out a few yards and then snapping them back again.
“Good,” replied Paige. “If M and Ev can lake down Jubilee and Jono, I’ll take care of myself.”
“I am not,” said Monet, “getting Jubilee cooties.”
“Then take Jono,” Paige snapped.
Espeth stepped forward. “What about me?”
“You’re not coming with us,” insisted Angelo.
She got in his face. “Face it, stretch, you need all the help you can get against that army.” She grabbed him by the waist. “So I guess I’m with you.”
Angelo groaned. “This is my worst nightmare.”
“Mine too,” she whispered in his ear.
“You sure you’re okay?” Jubilee had jumped on Ev’s back, like she was going for a pony ride. “Like, if you turn into metal or something, from this high up, you could crater really bad.” “
“If you do,” said Monet, “I’m not digging you out.”
“Shut up,” said Paige, “and knock out the darned window.”
“The ’Goths have been holding back on you guys so far. This won’t be easy,” Espeth warned.
Angelo socked his fist into his other palm. “That’s okay, chica, ’cuz I think the homies and me are ready to cut loose too.”
“Wait,” said Black, trying to put himself in front of the window, “give me some time to work this out.”
“Too late, obsidian dude.” Monet pushed him aside and strong-armed the window. It shattered, and she kicked the frame clear of shards. She grabbed Jono by the hands. “Here we go,” she said, and swooped out the window, Jono suspended under her.
Jono was no sooner clear of the window than he started firing psi-bolts down into the parking lots, sending the Genogoths scattering for cover.
Ev whooped and dived out the window with Jubilee on his ' back.
Angelo stepped up to the window, stretched out the skin of his arm, and wrapped it around the top of a nearby light standard. He glanced over at Paige, who was busy ripping off her skin to reveal something smooth, red, and shiny underneath. “Hang on,” he said, “or not.” Then he and Espeth jumped out and swung down into the parking lot, bowling over a group of ’Goths.
Paige stood in the window-frame and looked down. More Genoths were running from all directions. The opening that Espeth and Angelo had opened was closing. They continued to fight valiantly as the mob closed in.
Paige stepped off into space, did a half roll, and landed on her back. There was a loud thump, like a hand-ball hitting the wall, and then she bounced twenty feet back into the air.
“Woo-hoo,” Angelo whooped as she arced over his head, adding to the confusion. “She’s rubber!”
Paige bounced several more times before a group of Genogoths managed to grab her and pull her down. She socked the nearest ’Goth on the jaw, sending him sprawling.
She grinned and hauled off on another one. They seemed shocked, and fell back as she flailed at them. Her grin widened. She didn’t know what they’d expected, but as anyone who’s ever played dodge-ball knows, rubber can hurt, and her solid-rubber fists were a lot harder than any ball.
Paige looked around. She couldn’t see Jubilee, but she could hear her fireworks exploding. There was an enormous moving pile of bodies that must have had either M or Ev under it. A group of ’Goths had managed to get the jump on Jono and were holding him face down in the gravel, but M (leaving, Ev, by elimination, as the bottom of the dogpile) was swooping down to the rescue.
Paige decked another ’Goth. One thing a house full of Kentuckian brothers had taught her, it was how to bareknuckle fight. The mob parted long enough for her to see Angelo. He had grabbed up a couple handfuls of parking lot gravel, wrapped each fingertip around a substantial chunk, and was using his extended hands like flails or bolos to drive back the mob.
Paige stumbled over a fallen Genogoth. It seemed like they were winning, but she suddenly realized they were no closer to the Xabago. The Genogoths were holding them back by sheer numbers, and more kept appearing.
She caught a glimpse of Black, standing in their window, yelling something, but nobody could hear over the roar of combat.
Then Monet swooped down in front of her. “Bad news,” she said. “Reinforcements coming.”
“Show me,” yelled Paige.
Monet grabbed her hands and lifted her above the crowd.
Paige looked at the road that connected the freeway interchange with Little Latveria. A line of black vehicles was starting to pull into the parking lot. She could see the beginning of it, but as she traced it over the overpass, down the ramp, and onto the freeway, she couldn’t see the end. She muttered a curse, also learned from her brothers.
At the lead of the vehicles was a black Volkswagen bus with some kind of speakers hastily lashed to the roof. Paige had just enough time to wonder what they were for, when the sound started. It was high, piercing, painfully loud. She grabbed her ears. So did everyone else, including the Genogoths.
The brawl came to an instant stop, as people grabbed their heads, doubled over with pain. Then the sound stopped.
The doors of the bus opened. An overweight hippie climbed out of the driver’s side, and a tall cowboy in black from the others. They both pulled off big “mouse ear” headphones.
The cowboy pulled a microphone on a cord from inside the van. “This here’s the cavalry,” his drawling voice boomed from the speakers. “Now break it up, or we’ll break it up for you.” '
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Things change.
In short order, the Genogoths were running the hotel. The students of Xavier’s school were again their guests, in a new suite, this one without the broken window and with most of the furniture out in the middle of the floor, where it belonged.
Black, Leather, the Genogoth cowboy named Smokey Ashe, and a bunch of the elder Genogoths disappeared into a rented ballroom for a mysterious pow-wow that was still going on hours later.
' ■ Before all this could happen, of course, there had to be a cover story. Black and Paige had immediately gone to t
he manager’s office. Black had begun by waving wads of cash around seasoned with intense apologies for their little deception.
“We’re from Hollywood, baby. We didn’t want, like, to draw too much attention, you know? But we’re here to shoot an episode of Barbie the Dire Wraith Killer. You know it? Here,” he waved his hand at Paige, “meet Barbie. Give the man an autograph, darling.”
Ultimately his brush with “celebrity,” the offer to rent every vacant room in the hotel and all the meeting space at top rates, to repair the damage done by their over-enthusiastic stunt men, and to provide a generous gratuity in exchange for keeping their visit quiet, had combined to win the manager over.
Everyone seemed to be happy, except for Paige, who back at the suite complained, “Why did / have to be Barbie?”
“You’ve got to admit,” said Angelo, grinning, “that the resemblance is uncanny. If the light isn’t too good. And if you squint. And if you close one eye. And if you gouge the other eye out with a stick—”
Then, the hitting began. The cost of several feather pillows and a large tip for housekeeping were abruptly added to Black’s bill.
Hours passed, allowing time for long-hot-showers, naps, and small doses of gratuitous television viewing. A knock came at the door. It was Black and Espeth.
Jubilee ushered them in. Everyone gathered around to find out what was up.
“It’s done,” announced Black, “I am again firmly in control of the Genogoths.”
“What happened to the trouble guy,” asked Paige, “Leather or whatever?”
“He,” said Black, “and some of his followers, are being sent to a place where they can reconnect with the simple things and consider their errors and their true mission as Genogoths.”
'Monet looked at him. “Jimmy Hof fa was one of you, wasn’t he?”
Jubilee shook her head in puzzlement. “Jimmy WhofaT “What,” complained Angelo, “no hot irons? No guillotines? No iron maidens? No being drawn-and-quartered by four black Clydesdales? Man, you guys are a major disappointment.”
“We’re civilized, Mr. Epsinosa. We hold ourselves to higher standards, and I admit—mistakes have been made.” Angelo made a buzzing noise. “I’ll take ‘Understatements’ for a thousand, Alex.”
“I acknowledge,” he continued, “that this situation has spi-raled out of control, and that this was in part our fault. I also acknowledge that our long policy of passive protection of mutants may be inappropriate in this case. Clearly Sharpe’s hound program represents a special danger to the mutants we seek to protect, and something must be done.”
“Then,” said Paige, hopefully, “you agree that Chill, Recall and Pound have to be rescued.”
Black nodded grudgingly. “And this program has to be stopped if that’s even possible at this point. It isn’t going to be easy, but we’re prepared to put every resource at our disposal on the effort.”
“Sweet,” said Ev, “when do we get started?”
“I’ve put out the call, and every available Genogoth is already converging on the area. Rovers are scouting for a staging area near Sharpe’s base and gathering intelligence on how we can approach it. Unfortunately, I can’t spare anyone to escort you back to Massachusetts, but I trust you can find your own way.”
Ev waved his hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Can’t do that, Blackjack. Uh-uh.”
“Absolutely not,” said Paige.
Jono stepped forward. “We didn’t fight our way across six states and turn the Xabago into a bloody pretzel just so we could turn around and drive home before the action starts.”
' “I’m afraid,” said Black, “that isn’t open to discussion. This situation has placed too many mutants, including yourselves, at risk already. It’s intolerable. You will return home and we will see this matter through.”
“Look, Black,” Jono loomed over him, “we’re people, not your bleeding gene-banks-on-the-hoof. You don’t own us, and you don’t tell us what to do. We’re going, and we don’t need your permission.”
Black didn’t seem intimidated. “Need I remind you that you still don’t know the location of the hidden installation?” Jono glanced at Espeth.
She looked pained. “Look,” she said, “I advocated your side of things to the Junta, and I got them to agree to the rescue. That’s what you wanted, what we wanted, isn’t it? They’d never have changed their minds without what you’ve done.” Her eyes were almost desperate. “I’ll get them out, I swear it.”
Jono nodded. “Jubilee?”
Jubilee stepped forward, a big grin on her face. “Sorry, Blackhead, but I just got a phone call I’ve been waiting on. We’ve got, like, resources of our own, you know? So, nyah!”
“To be more exact,” said Paige, “we have a list of abandoned government installations that our buddy Sharpe was reportedly checking out before this whole project went down. Three of them are in North Carolina. Shouldn’t take us long to check ’em out. Heck, one-third chance we’ll be right the first time.”
Angelo tried to look confused. “But, how will we ever know which one? Oh!” He brightened. “That’s right! It’ll be the one swarming with Genogoths!”
Black was fuming. “Very well, it appears there’s nothing I can do to stop you from joining our effort. But we’ll do this our way, and you’ll join our operation. Agreed?”
Jono crossed his arms in front of him. “Fair enough. No sense tripping over each other’s feet.”
“And you,” he glared at Espeth, “are responsible for these—people. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an assault to plan.” He let himself out of the room.
Espeth grinned weakly. “Well,” she said, “here we are, together again.”
Sharpe was annoyed as he walked into the office of Sarah Namik, the Foxhole’s security officer. He didn’t bother to sit down, standing in the open doorway of the tiny, rock-walled space. “I don’t like being summoned by my subordinates, Namik, especially without explanation. We’re in the middle of a very intense series of capture simulations with the Hounds, and we’re evaluating the new subject for conversion as well. Fma busy man. If you have information of importance, you can bring it to me.”
She glanced up from the trio of computer display panels on her desk. “I’m a busy woman, too, Sharpe. Collecting data is my job, and the data all comes here, not to wherever you happen to be. Now, do you want to know what I’ve found, or not?”
He frowned, but grudgingly nodded.
“One of my jobs is to monitor news and intelligence sources from around the region looking for possible mutant activity or potential threats to the installation. I may have found both.”
“What? Where?”
“Fortunately, some distance away, a tourist Mecca called ‘Little Latveria,’ near the South Carolina border. Official reports are that there was disturbance there yesterday caused by a crew shooting a television show. Stunt people, pyrotechnics, and monster costumes were supposedly involved.’^ Sharpe’s eyes widened. “Mutants?”
“I have an eyewitness report of a woman jumping out of a window onto asphalt and bouncing thirty feet into the air. That’s quite a little ‘stunt.’ So, just to be sure, I sent out a helicopter to fly over the area with mutant detection equipment.” “And found—?”
“Nothing. However, there are indications that some sort of jamniihg device, like the one at Muddy Gap, may have been in use. It’s unfortunate that the jammer there self-destructed before we could examine it. We might be able to develop a counter-measure.” She leaned back in her chair. “The implications are alarming though. We may have multiple mutants operating in the region under some kind of detection cloak. Also, a large number of strangely dressed individuals were seen there as well. I have no reason to believe that they were mutants, but somebody has been setting up these jamming devices to protect mutants.”
Sharpe nodded. “Somebody organized, with the technical resources to pull something like this off. Somebody whose agenda would put them into direct conflict with our own. In
one of our monitoring tapes, the subjects mentioned the possibility of rescue. We dismissed it, but—”
“I want to up the alert level, send out regular armed patrols.”
Sharpe shook his head. “That will only make us more visible. It’s time to run silent, run deep. No aircraft are to launch without my authorization. All personnel are confined to base until further notice. No outside patrols or maintenance crews. We have the best automated defenses money can buy and we’re burrowed into solid rock.” He chuckled. “If they can find us,” he said, “let them come.”
After a welcome, overnight stay in the Doomstad hotel, Generation X loaded up the Xabago and, with Espeth aboard, limped their way to the Genogoths’ staging area, an abandoned state maintenance yard somewhere west of Greenville.
By the time they pulled in, it was late afternoon, and the Genogoths were already well settled. The crushed-stone yards were full of vehicles ranging in size from Volkswagen Beetles to semi-trucks, tents were set up, and camp fires were burning.
A remarkable metamorphosis had taken place as well. Now it was rare to see the leathers, nose rings, and black turtlenecks they’d come to expect from the Genogoths. Black was still the color of the day, but now it was commando black, dark fatigues, combat boots, and web belts with hunting knives. The mood in the camp was efficient and businesslike.
They all piled out of their battered motorhome and took a stroll around the compound.
“These people,” said Paige, clearly impressed, “are loaded for bear.”
Ev nodded toward the main gate, where another caravan of vehicles were pulling in. “I thought there were lots of them at Little Latveria. They just keep coming.”
“Black is bringing in everyone he can,” explained Espeth. “We have people coming from back home in Washington, California, Mexico, Canada, even a few from Europe and South America. Whoever could get here quick.”
Generation X - Genogoths Page 16