Chapter Four
“I don’t get it,” Lance said, staring at the clippings. “What am I supposed to be looking at? Are you sick or something?”
“What? No!” Todd brandished the clippings, which contained a brief profile of a clinic in New York City catering to street children. “They’re looking for mutants!”
Lance took the papers and examined them more closely. “Beginning to specialize in the treatment of runaway teens undergoing genetic transformation. Huh. Good for them, I guess. You think Baldy’s funding them?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said Todd, darkly. “Look at this guy.” He jabbed the photo, where, behind a group of somber looking doctors and nurses, a bald man with a scar over one eye looked on. “Look, you know I was in the city for a long time before Mystique found me, right? I know this guy. He’s bad news. He used to run this crew outta Hell’s Kitchen. They’d grab kids off the street. If they were runaways- you know, with people still looking for them- they’d ransom them off. Otherwise, they’d sell them.”
“You never told me about that,” said Lance, cautiously. There was a lot about his life before the Brotherhood that Todd didn’t like to talk about- which made him far from unique. That the Brotherhood was able to live together in relative peace was in no small part due to their forbearance in digging into each other’s histories.
“Well, they grabbed me once, right?” It had been an early lesson in Todd’s life- he had taken the kindly priest who offered him a refuge from the cruel New York winter at his word. By the time he heard the other kids whimpering in the basement, the door was already swinging shut behind him. “I got away, cause, they weren’t figuring anyone was going to get to this one window up at the top of the wall. And I… I just never looked back. They didn’t come after me, cause I guess no one knew shit about mutants back then and they didn’t figure I’d sell for much. But I never tried to tell the cops or no one. A couple years later, I heard the gang got busted up, but it wasn’t because of me.”
“You were a kid,” Lance said, setting a hand on Todd’s shoulder. “You were scared. And who would you have told? You probably already didn’t have the best record with the cops, right? And hell, city cops- I bet those guys were connected anyways. You’d’ve just put yourself back in their crosshairs.”
“Yo, I know that.” Todd brushed off Lance’s hand and leapt to the wall, then the ceiling. “But I’m talking about now. This guy’s out of jail, if he even ever went there, and he’s going to do it all again.”
“And this time he’s targeting mutant kids. I hate to say it, but it’s smart. Find the right kid, the right powers- way more valuable than some scrawny junkie runaway. No offense.”
“Heh. None taken.”
“So what do we do about it?” Lance asked. “Seems like the sort of thing Summers and them would be all over. Do you want to go tell them about it? Or… I bet if I call an FBI tipline or something from the phone here, it’ll get kicked up to SHIELD pretty quick.”
“Nah, man. I can’t just tell someone about it and walk away, y’know? I gotta know this time. I don’t want this to be something I’m gonna regret in ten years.” He hopped from the ceiling back to the floor, crouching in front of Lance and running a hand through his greasy hair. “Shit, Lance. I think I gotta go back to New York.”
***
Pietro lowered his hand of cards and narrowed his eyes at Tabby. “Threes,” he said.
“Fleas,” she countered.
“Trees,” put in Fred.
“Three fleas in trees. Please. Just like every time I-beat-you-with-ease.” Fred and Tabby scowled and each handed over a card. Pietro laid down a set of four threes, and proclaimed “Gin. Also,” holding up his last remaining card. “Uno.”
Tabby smirked and laid a pair of queens atop the twos. “High card,” she declared.
It was Pietro’s turn to scowl as he dashed to the deck of cards, tore through it, and returned with the Ace of Spades. “Hah. What now?”
“Clubs are reverse double wild,” Fred declared, setting the Two of Clubs down on top of the Ace of Spades.
“Damn-it. Forgot-about-that.” Pietro glanced at Tabby. “What-have-you-got?”
“I think he’s got us this time,” Tabby conceded. “Drink or strip?”
“Drink,” groaned Pietro. “If my game is this off tonight, I’m not going to want to remember it.”
As they both lifted their glasses, Lance reentered the room. “Hey,” said Tabby. “Come play- we’re still on Level One.”
“Another time,” Lance promised. “Hey, Todd and I are going to hit the road. Got some shit to take care of in New York. Anyone want to come?”
“I will,” said Fred immediately.
“What’s happening in New York?” Tabby asked.
“Some do-gooder bull,” Lance said, shrugging. “Figure it’ll get me back in Kitty’s good books.”
“Get you in somewhere, right?” Tabby said. “Sorry, Rocky, not really looking to spend my time fixing your love life.”
“She’s right,” put in Pietro. “For example, we’re going to go mess with the X-geeks. Make sure they get the point that we’re not about to sign up for their super secret superhero squad.”
Lance shook his head. “You assholes aren’t ever gonna change, huh?” He turned and stalked out.
***
“Yo, you said everyone was coming,” Todd said, as Lance climbed into the jeep. “Where’s Pietro and Tabby.”
“They said they have better things to do,” Fred said, sitting in the back.
“But Lance, you said…”
Lance grinned and held up one finger as he went to turn the key in the ignition. There was a gust of wind and the key vanished from his hand, only to reappear in the hand of Pietro, who sat on the hood of the car, twirling it around his finger and tsking.
“You bastard,” he said, shaking his head. “You were actually going to leave without us.”