Uncanny X-Men 1943

Chapter 6

"Miss Lee ain't in?"

Emma looked up from her desk, only mildly surprised to see Logan standing in her doorway. "She's out. The Ministry of Information is playing funny buggers with us. I've trusted Miss Lee to sort them out."

"You reckon a nineteen-year-old Oriental kid is going to sort out their bureaucratic crap?"

"She's from Bristol, and yes, I do."

"Huh," said Logan, pulling a cigar out of his pocket. "Trusting folks suits you, Ems."

"Light that in my office, and you'll be mopping your brains up off the floor. Why are you here? You have the day off." Emma had thought that having her team back would help her sleep, but it hadn't. She felt as though she'd only been asleep for minutes before she felt Scott sliding out of bed to go and make the breakfast. She didn't tell him he'd woken her. He'd just apologise so damn sincerely.

Logan put the cigar back in his pocket and shut the door behind himself. "Had a proper meal, a fourteen-hour sleep, and as decent a breakfast as ya can get these days. Hell, I even wrote a letter to Sarah and the kids. We need to talk, Miss Frost."

"How is your family? Isn't your oldest boy about old enough to enlist?"

"Not about them."

"Go on," Emma said, knowing full well that Logan had no intention of discussing his family.

"I reckon we were made."

"Have you discussed this with Elizabeth?"

"She ain't in the right frame of mind for discussing this type of thing right now."

"No," Emma said, making a mental note that a full and frank discussion with Lady Elizabeth would be required in the following days all the same. "I suppose not. Would you like a seat?"

"I'll stand," Logan said, leaning against the door.

"Go on, then," Emma said.

Logan pulled the cigar out of his pocket again. Emma raised her eyebrows. "Habit, sorry," Logan said, pocketing it once more. "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe that St Croix git really is that good, and his grey-coated pals are that organised. But I dunno. Lyon's been occupied for what, a few weeks? Something ain't right."

"It's only been occupied for a few weeks," Emma said, "But that doesn't mean it's been one big holiday for the past few years. So, you think it's the dear mademoiselle?"

"Nah," Logan said, "She ain't gunna be easy to live with, but she's terrified of her brother. Risked her life to save Rogue. She wants to fight the good fight, just doesn't know how. Carrying a whole lot of surviver guilt, too."

Emma nodded, knowing the feeling only too well. "Remy and Rogue?"

"He's a crook, but got a heart of gold. She does too. Won't go one without the other. Remy'll fight for his homeland, and France is as good a home as Rogue's ever had. They want freedom and half a chance. I reckon Rogue could lead the whole US Forces if given a shot."

"So you think it's one of ours?"

"I dunno," Logan said, looking at his shoes, "I don't want it to be. It ain't the love birds. Elizabeth wouldn't know how to betray this country, and Warren wouldn't know how to betray her."

"Hmm," Emma twirled a pen between her fingers.

"What's the deal with those two, anyway? Ain't kosher to have a couple on the team. Too much risk. Using hearts not heads."

"I trust them," Emma said.

"Doesn't answer the question."

"I don't answer you, Mr Logan. Please remember that."

Logan shuffled his feet and felt for the cigar in his pocket. He was going to light it up the moment he was out of Emma's office. "Just leaves the Frenchie."

"Hmm."

"Oh," Logan said. "He's why Miss Lee's over at the Ministry?"

"There's an - anomaly if you will, in his paperwork."

"Betsy knew?"

"Yes. She was team-leader. I told her. I didn't think the rest of you needed to know. Clerical error. You know what bureaucracy's like."

"Hate ta tell ya, Ems, but I really don't."

"You think Jean-Philippe's playing us?"

Logan sighed. "That's the problem. I don't trust him, and I sure don't like him, but I'm not getting a single read on him that says he's betraying us. He hates what those bastards are doing to his country. He's violent and doesn't mind getting his hands dirty, but I don't think he's a traitor."

"So we're back to square one, then," Emma said, leaning back in her chair.

Logan sighed. "Think I'm starting to see shadows in the midday sun, Ems."

"You're not the only one," Emma replied.

"So, what's next?"

Emma picked up her reading glasses and chewed on the end. "We need to find Warren."

"You think he's alive?"

"If Marius St Croix has half the brain we think he does, then yes. They'll want to question Warren at the very least. Then I suppose he'll be shipped of to a lovely little camp to assist with science and other such things."

"Warren wouldn't betray us."

"Yes, he will," Emma said.

"He won't."

"Standard protocol. Spill your guts and save your life. If they're as good as we are, there's little that Warren will know that the SS don't already."

Logan considered this for a moment. "And then what?"

"They're a dictatorship, darling," Emma said, twirling her glasses, "We're banking on bureaucracy. If you think they're keen on red tape in Whitehall, I can only imagine what it's like in Berlin. They think they're so efficient, but every slime ball in the SS and Gestapo are going to want credit for the capture of a British-American mutant Resistance fighter. Which means they'll be slow."

"And if he's still alive, and if we find him, and they're two big "ifs", Emma, you reckon we can get to him before they do anything we can't undo? That Whitehall won't have a thing or two to say?"

"Oh, darling, this is the SOE. 99% of the time, we're so far ahead of those clowns in Whitehall that they haven't even put their shoes on, and we're already lining up for the next event. We'll be there and back again before Whitehall notices out desks are empty."

Logan nodded. "I'm guessing you've already got people looking out for Warren?"

"His profile is rather conspicuous."

Logan allowed himself a small smile. He took a deep breath. "Guess I should go get some decent thermals, then."

"You're from Canada, darling. Surely Germany in winter isn't that bad?"

Logan chuckled and pulled out the cigar. He opened the door, then closed it again. "Who else?"

"Pardon?"

"Who else knew about Lyon?"

"If you're accusing Miss Lee..."

"Not her," Logan said. "It won't be her. Who else?"

Emma put her glasses down and rubbed her forehead. "Oh, shit."

"Who?"

"Shit. He wanted Jean-Philippe for what's called Hellfire Squad. Assassins. Your standard 'don't ask, don't tell' kind of thing. I already had Fantomex on my roster, and had to explain why he really couldn't be in two places at once. It was just the basic brief, not the whole mission report, but - "

"Who, Emma?"

Emma looked up at Logan. "Sebastian Shaw."