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"Secrets Better Left Unknown"

Secrets Better Left Unknown

Chapter 1
Chapter 2

This story is in progress.

Hey everybody. Here's chapter two of 'Secrets Better Left Unknown.' Revel wrote this one. If anyone wants to archive it, I have it in HTML. Enjoy! - J
Just so you all know, Black Team 51, aren't my creation, I've borrowed them from Eluki Bes Shahar. She wrote the novel ' X-Men: Smoke and Mirrors' and a few others. And I just really liked this team, and their firepower.

Part 2

As the Blackbird achieved 30,000 ft, the forward momentum increased, sending the alien advanced jet hurtling to it's destination at incredible speed. Cyclops piloted the aircraft, while Wolverine had comfortably slid into the co-pilots seat. Gambit had chosen to sit by the window, staring out sightlessly. The manner in which he sat suggested to one and all that he was relaxed. Lazily lounging as if this was a daily chore that he'd eventually have to do. Psylocke on the other hand, sat straight in her chair, looking the part of the well brought up English lady. Though the red ninja stripe down her eye and skimpy purple battle suit would argue otherwise. Nothing about this mission seemed to pose great physical harm to the three mutants. In fact, if all went well, nobody would be the wiser that they had been there at all.

"Cyclops, a situation has just arisen in Washington." Storms regal voice broke through the radio, clear as a cloudless night sky.

Upon hearing Storms voice in the cockpit, Gambit got up and walked down to the head of the jet, Psylocke a step behind.

"Continue Storm."

"Cerebro has positively identified the Marauders near the Metro Lab vicinity."

"Sinister..." The name hissed through Cyclops lips.

"Indeed. The rest of the team and I are on our way to intercept them now."

"The Mini-jet isn't big enough--"he was thinking out loud, when Wolverine rudely interrupted him.

"Go, Cyke, not like we need an escort."

"Oui. Monsieur Logan is right, wit Gambit along it go smooth as silk."Remy's notorious lopsided grin played across his face." When we done we jus' wait f' you at de rendezvous site."

Psylocke cut into the conversation." Or we could come with you, beat the Marauders who, in the end, will disappear out of our grasp, and like usual we won't even come face to face with Sinister. Which means, we end up never coming out here to check this base out. That, in the long run, will give us a powerful opposition to contend with."

Cyclops thought about this for a brief moment, and had to admit, she had a very good point." Alright, Storm, I'll be there with the Blackbird in fifteen minutes."

Storm consented with this, and signed off. They could afford to wait, since the Marauders were not yet in Metro Labs. If they were lucky, the X-Men would be able to get them just as they were vacating the building, minimizing direct damage to the lab itself. Cyclops dropped his three comrades off where he would pick them up again in four hours, if all went well on both ends.

Taking a minute to watch the blackbird fly off in the direction they came, Wolverine took the lead, and headed for the F.O.H's new base. But not before Gambit leisurely stretched, as if he'd just awoken for
the second time that day. They bushwhacked their way through the dense forest, daylight had already faded, and the late dusk retreated to the overwhelming black of night. Wolverine's keen sense of direction, the only navigational tool at hand.

When Logan breached the end of the trees and the beginning of patrolled grounds, they all stopped and squatted. Now fully dark out, the night concealed and sheltered them, but at the same time limiting sight. Gambit's night eyes compensated him, as did Wolverines sense of smell and hearing, painting a picture for them, more colorful then sight itself. Psylocke reached out with her mind, locating individuals near their location.

"Dis to easy, mes amis." Whispered Remy, as he looked out at the lightly guarded grounds, where at the moment, three heavily armed guards walked.

"No fence. . . no lase's, jus' 'uman pitbulls." Wolverine watched the three armed men awhile, before he spoke." They're walking a pattern, big mistake, bubs." To Wolverine this was a stupid mistake, a mistake made by prey.

In front of them loomed what looked like a big warehouse, one story high. The main doors, off to one side, were sentinel by two of the same guards that roamed the grounds. A few yards to the left stood another building; one shaped to house transportation vehicles. But beyond this, however, was a mystery.

"Gumbo, get yer butt inta that building." Wolverine said pointing to the warehouse." Psylocke, see if you can get in through the roof. I'm goin' to see what's round back, we meet back here in fifty minutes."

"Gambit need only 'alf dat time,"was the mock retort. And with that, they all went their separate ways.

Gambit slinked through the shadows, which was fairly easy since the area around the F.O.H base was lighted poorly to nil. His path crossed that of the unfortunate guard, whose expensive weapons and fancy black fatigues didn't help an ounce. Gambit delivered a silencing blow to the head, with a quick and efficient kick.

"Shouldda paid d'extra fo' d'elmet, mon ami." His remark went unanswered as he kept to his original path to a side door he hoped would be there. After all, what was a viable headquarters without emergency exits?

Wolverine stalked in the bushes, without snapping of twigs or rustle of fallen leaves. He continued his walk all the way around to the back of the huge bland building. Leaving any guards he came across unharmed, he needn't silence a potential alarm, for no one as of yet had even noticed he was walking among them. As the last of the building was cleared, Wolverine got an uninterrupted view of nothing. Except what looked like the start of a chain link fence, all the materials to put the thing up still laying uselessly on the ground.

Seeing that the base wasn't yet fully installed, made him feel better. But the little hairs on the nape of his neck still felt as if someone had just swept them back the wrong way. Something's not right, this is to easy, like the Cajun said. But he preceded onwards any way, after all, it wasn't like they were expecting them...were they?

Psylocke headed in the opposite direction of Gambit, intending to climb the metal stairs that went right up to the top of the warehouse/supposed base. A dip into a few of the minds around her assured her that they indeed didn't know of their presence, and relayed this to the others.

On the roof, she slowly walked around the edge, eyes alert for any movement and an access to the interior.

The side door wasn't exactly in the place he thought it'd be in, but sure enough, an anonymous gray looking door appeared. Reaching into one of his many pockets, his fingers found the few objects needed for entering such a door. With his sensitive fingers and years of being a professional thief ranking as of now one of the best in the world, the door posed to be a minor inconvenience. Gambit made it in side, in less than a minute. Mus' be slackin' today, dat take longer den us'all.

The pathetic red glow of the 'EXIT' sign didn't even reach the floor, let alone the lone man who walked beyond it without a second glance. In the doorways and in the halls, hanging from the ceiling, were signs like those you'd find in a government building, or hospital. Pointing out directions for easy travelling. Gambit smiled to himself. He'd be out in less then twenty minutes. And yet, this place gave him a slight case of the creeps. If possible he'd be out in fifteen.

Further into the complex he delved, with only one incident. That incident was tied and gagged in a janitor's closet. For nighttime the lights were programmed to caste only minimum illumination into the halls. Down another corner, Remy glanced up, and the helpful sign said 'Computer room'. Another smile, and he slipped in through the door. *Psylocke, I'm in.*

Psylocke acknowledged his report, and relayed it to Wolverine. *Right, darlin'.* That instant of distraction was all it took to accidentally trip, the trip wire placed straight across the berth of the building. Looking down to see what she had done, Psylocke noticed that the trip wire was a full foot in front of her, she hadn't been anywhere near close enough to set it off. Then one word flashed in her mind: Ambush.

All around him blared a screaming alarm, which ironically reminded him of the alarm clock he busted earlier this morning. Ejecting the disk that had just finished downloading info off the computers, Remy stuffed it in his pocket. Spinning on his heel, he grabbed the door handle and jerked it open, only to slam it shut as his spatial awareness picked up two figures racing down the hall. After a moment he threw the door back open, and made a mad dash down the hall, the same way the troopers had gone.

The lights that had before cast a faint yellowish tinge to the walls and floor, were now bright florescent white. The shadows that had been were no more, leaving him nowhere to hide. Shielding his eyes with his left hand, Gambit grasped three playing cards from his duster pocket as he sensed people beyond the corner he was readily approaching.

Wolverine now stood in a flood of lights, as seemingly out of nowhere spotlights clung to his form unrelentingly. Knowing the cat was out of the bag, he readied himself for a fight, popping out his famous three-foot long bone claws that were housed inside his forearms.

"So much for quiet tactics. Let's dance."

Soldiers who looked as if they stepped out of a large mold in black fatigues, the same equipment, and firearms, raced out of the building in single file lines. Getting a better look at what they were, Wolverine noticed a patch on the right shoulder of each, an emblem of sorts.

"Halt mutant! You're under arrest!"The man who looked to be the leader shouted at him. By now Wolverine was surrounded by twelve of the mystery men in black.

"An' who's orderin'?"

"Black Team 51. Don't make this harder than it has to be, just come along peacefully and nobody will get hurt."

"I don't do peacefully." Twelve to one, my kinda odds! With that final thought, the feral X-Man launched himself into the nearest guy. By getting this close, they wouldn't use their guns, in fear of hitting one of their own.

The scene was almost comical. If one were to have a birds eye view of the ensuing fight, one would see a lone man dressed in black and yellow, in the middle of many men in black. The odds favoring these so called Black Team 51, but then this was a man named after an animal which had no fear, that'd tear a bear limb from limb if cornered.

The leader pulled out of the fray as did two others, slinging there large silver gray guns over there shoulders and into their hands, that put the movie ‘Men in Black' to shame. Wolverine made short work of the men; more unconscious or afraid to get up then dead. Standing there, with lips curled back to expose fierce canines, Logan growled menacingly at the three men in front of him and took a step forward.

The leader fired first, the plasma beam sending the short Canadian backwards a good ten feet, only for him to get right back up severely pissed off. With a single spoken word, a net was fired from the third gunmen's rifle. The net glowed an eerie blue, and seemed to zap the very air. At the same time the other two mercenaries fired as well, stunning the Canadian long enough for the net to collapse over him.

For a moment Psylocke was mortified that she'd blown the entire mission with a miss step, but for only a moment. As all hell broke lose, alarms screamed the footsteps of soldiers below her could be heard. She ran to the edge of the building and to the stairs on which she climbed up, intending to get down and help when and if needed.

"And just where do you think your going, mutant?"

Psylocke faced her opponent as he cleared the metal stairs and advanced on her. Psylocke stood her ground, watching as he upholstered a bulky silver handgun and continued walking closer. She did her best just to stand there and wait. It would have been easy to maneuver around and take him down, but what was the sense in wasting energy, when the victim walked right up to you to be slaughtered?

As soon as he was just further than an arm's length away, Psylocke moved with ninja speed and hit him dead on with her psychic knife. Walking over his slumped, limp body, she made her way down the ladder, and around the building, staying in what little shadows were left. Psylocke rounded the corner only to find Wolverine slashing, kicking, punching, and all in all kicking serious butt, despite the odds.

Everything was moving so fast, which left no doubt in her mind that they had been set up. Reaching out with her mind, Psylocke tried to find her other team mate, but the link she had with Gambit was severed. Feeling it out, Psylocke determined, or at least hoped, it was his own doing. At the best of times, Gambit didn't like anyone in his head.

She was brought back to the present, when the night was pierced by a howl. Looking back at Wolverine, she saw that he was encased in what appeared to be a blue-ish net anchored to the ground.

As Gambit neared the intersection in the hallway, his spatial awareness told him that the moving people in front of him had stopped, and in all sanity awaited an ambush. Gambit changed directions, and ran in the opposite way, but the same thing happened. He stopped in the middle of the brightly lit, white hallway, and simply stood there. Looking around casually for possibly escape routes. Dis be stupid, boy. 'Ow y' get y' self inta dis…No way dey be all c'ord'nated like dis on seconds notice. We been set up.

Six members of Black team 51 stepped out of their hiding spots, six men at each end of the hallway, and began to carefully and slowly close in on the mutant thief. Handguns and rifles were already drawn, some even held shiny black shields like what riot cops used.

"Halt, Gambit. You're under arrest. My name is Mr. Raven, come along without a fuss, and this will be over without incident." The man who was in charge of the entire operation called out to their prime target.

"Sorry homme, but Gambit can' allow dat. Wha'd people t'ink?"Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

"Well then, I suppose you'll just be a little bruised then. Alright boys."

Gambit threw charged playing cards in Raven's direction, at the same time throwing a handful of cards in the other end of the hall with his other hand. The backlash of flames seemed not to affect Gambit, as he stood in a fighting stance, slightly crouched.

Black Team 51 were prepared for this, and the men who held the shields kneeled down on one knee and braced themselves for the blast. The fire resistant shields protected all the members. Raven and the others crouched behind, escaping the flames and explosion without harm. Talking into the tiny headsets everyone wore, he issued orders Gambit couldn't hear.

Rising slightly while the others were still crouched protectively behind the black barriers, Raven fired at the Cajun. Gambit easily dodged, and threw another batch of explosive cards. Fact was, Remy was starting to panic. It was easy to see that his cards weren't doing a lick of good, and there was no other way out. They had effectively trapped him.

"Are you quite done yet, Mr. Gambit?" Raven patiently asked.


Black Team 51, on the opposite end of Mr. Raven got up, and moved in on Gambit. A short blond fellow, carrying a pair off restraints. Gambit held his hands in the air, looking the part of the outmatched victim. Then the victim turned the tables when Black Team 51 left their sanctuary behind. Spinning, the auburn haired Cajun delivered a debilitating round house kick to the head of the little blond man.

Out from under his duster came his Bo-staff. A spin of the wrist and it extended to full length, over five feet. With an extra tool to his advantage, Remy spun the staff again, and brought it low to the legs of the nearest person to him. He knocking the man down, who misfired his gun. Somebody attempted an attack from behind, but Gambit turned quickly planting his elbow to the would-be attackers jaw with a sickening crack.

The agent who had been knocked down by the thief's Bo-staff sprang to his feet, upholstering the four inch knife from his thigh. He went in low, intending to come up beside Remy, but Gambit noticed the movement, dodged the wild swing and counter attacked. Dismissing fancy maneuvers, Gambit decked the man in front of him square in the nose, the crack of breaking bone barely heard, but the blood that spilled forth easily seen.

"Enough fucking around." Raven said, talking more to himself than anyone in the room. Taking aim after setting his weapon to a lower level, he fired at the rebelling Cajun. Gambit sensed the plasma fire headed towards him and made an escape into the air, executing a perfect leap and flip. The human barricade now eliminated, Remy made a dash for freedom. The hall was limiting his movement to dodge and attack, and he felt too open and vulnerable.

All of a sudden, gunfire chased him down. Being terribly confined, Remy couldn't effectively dodge everything and was nailed in the shoulder. He slowed, but did not stop. Another shot hit him in the upper thigh, bringing him down. Raven walked up to the X-Man, who, at the moment, was trying unsuccessfully to get up. Holding his silver, bulky rifle in his hands, Raven swiftly brought it down onto the Cajuns head, ending any other attempts of escape.

"Pack up, we're out of here."Raven issued the command through the head set, which carried the massage to everyone. The restraints the young blond had been carrying were being put on the unconscious X-Man.


To be continued.

Author's Notes:

" impression for ya ... caw,caw, bang f^*K i'm dead."
" give me the grrl, and I'll let you walk out of here."

Anyone know where this dialogue is from?
Best of Luck,


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