WE'RE BACK!!! We apologize for taking so long between posts but between
losing my e-mail numerous times and the hundred+ stories we're trying to
read, time has just flown. Anyway in case you're new to this story or have
forgotten what it's all about, you can find them on the internet at

http://web2.spydernet.com/lori/index.htm
http://www.ici.net/cust_pages/darqstar/direct.html
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/6329

along with tons of other stories.

Recap: The FOH are begining to attack mutants publically and are putting
prices on their heads. Havok, Creed's assassin, escaped capture along with
Polaris.

Oh yeah that disclaimer stuff: We wish we would have invented these guys,
maybe then we'd be rich and the comics would have stories the way they
should be told (IMHO)

As always send comments or suggestions to:     skruse@snd10.med.navy.mil    
we'd like to know how we are doing after a month of hang time and if there's
still interest...please!


Part VII


     He bounced up the flight of stairs leading into the lobby of Falls
Edge. All his possessions were over his shoulder in a military green sea
bag, that clattered with each step. Weapons of every size, shape and
lethality. He knew he would be supplied with everything his little heart
desired, but it was hard to give up one's precious toys.
     He grinned an internal grin. It often hurt to physically grin but he
would never let on. Besides, he had a bad ass reputation to uphold. If he
went around smiling, he'd never make a buck.
     This new job was going to be a cake walk. Landau, Luckman, and Lake had
propositioned him for a new line of work but they couldn't compare with:
UNLIMITED EXPENSE ACCOUNT. Those words sounded so nice he said them aloud as
he opened the front door.
     The security officer behind the front desk opened his dozing eyes and
screamed. His feet, which had been mounted upon the desk in an
unprofessional manner, fell to the ground. What was the procedure for an
intruder? Shoot first. No, no, no. The alarm. The button. His finger dove
toward the large red button that would activate the internal and external
alarms but was stopped before it could make it there.
     "Listen, Clyde," the intruder said, leaning toward the security guard.
"I don't have time for this. Let Bastion know I'm here and show me to my
quarters."
     "There's no one of your description on the roster," the guard said,
pulling his finger from the other man's grip. He reached for his gun and
aimed straight for the intruder's face but came up empty handed.
     "Come on Clyde. You know it's not polite to point. Plus you never know
when one of those might go off," the man said, bouncing the subnose .38
revolver in one of his gloved hands.
     The guard looked at his empty hand and saw a knife dangling a mere inch
from his extended finger.
     "Catch my meaning," the intruder said, suppressing a grin at his pun.
"Now look at you roster again. I bet my name's on there."
     The guard nodded and looked down at the single name printed on the top
sheet of the visiting personnel. Wade Wilson was highlighted in yellow
marker across the top. "It only says Wade Wilson."
     "Well then, that must be me," Deadpool said, sheathing his knife.
     "But. But you're not exactly-"
     "A pretty boy for the press. Look at Tom Cruise. Do you really think
girls gave him the time of day before he hit it big? I don't think so." And
wait until Terry catches sight of me on television being a hero. It'll just
be a matter of time before she comes around.


     After putting the Blackbird on autopilot to take them back to the
mansion, Cable left the cockpit and headed to the back of the aircraft.
Cyclops's prone form was upon a cot barely high enough to suit it's purpose.
The medical facilities on the aircraft were meager compared to the mansions
but Cable didn't require them make the simple diagnosis. Cyclops had
received a concussion from the incident with Havok.
     "You know you'll have to take it easy for the next few days," Cable
informed his father. He opened a compartment above his head and removed a
reusable blue ice pack for Cyclops's head. With a quick squeeze he broke the
capsule inside, setting off the reaction that produced the cold.
     Cyclops took the bag and gently placed it on his bruised scalp. "Looks
like I'll get a chance to have Jean pamper me in bed before she starts
making me do it later in her pregnancy."
     "Get as much as you can out of this 'cause I'm sure she'll punish you
later," Cable said, laughing along with Cyclops. Although the mission had
gone sour, the mission had brought them closer as father and son, which they
hadn't much time for since Cable's arrival in this timeline.
     "So what's your plan for X-Force now that the X-Men are moving,"
Cyclops asked.
     "I really don't know yet. Things haven't gone as smoothly as they did
when we first started. I think a lot has to do with discipline. I thought
they had progressed well for young men and women but lately... I've become
disappointed. James was left for dead but was actually unharmed and didn't
return to us immediately. Rictor left for a ti	me. Terry resorted to alcohol."
     "The agonies of leadership. You begin to wonder how Xavier dealt with
it all those years. You have to admit it's a different team then the one you
originally had. You started with kids that you melded into trained soldiers
but now, they've grown up and are beginning to question your motives instead
of following blindly into battle."
     "Well at least Meltdown and Cannonball have met my expectations."
     "Sam is doing well as an X-Man, but he does have doubts about his
abilities to wear that title."
     Cable nodded and remained silent. Cyclops was right about his team no
longer being as malleable as they used to be. Perhaps it was time to make
some changes, beginning with putting the force back in X-Force.


     Lance Preston was out of work now that Creed had been assassinated. For
three years he had, along with his brother, Lestor, been Creed's personal
bodyguards. Though he could easily find a job anywhere, he wasn't able to
leave his brother behind.
     Lance had a college degree in physical therapy, but most people assumed
his oversized body meant he possessed the intelligence of a canary. However,
his brother made a canary look intelligent.     
     The main reason Lance had become over developed was standing to his
left. Lestor was watching the sand flow through the colored water in one of
Creed's many office inertia paperweights. Lestor was four years his junior
but at an early age, showed signs he was going to be the aggressor of their
childhood household. After being beat several times, Lance began a rigorous
workout to prevent any further beatings. When their mother and father died
in an automobile accident, Lance was forced to take responsibility for his
brother, who had just gotten thrown out of high school. After finishing his
college education, Lance easily found jobs but was never able to stay in one
place since Lestor continually managed to find trouble with the local
authorities. He soon realized that he had to find a way to divert his
brother's temper, and what better way than as a bouncer.
     During the next several years, Lance became increasingly involved in
politics and found a calling he truly enjoyed, a campaign manager. Creed
soon discovered him but already had his own staff. However, Lance along with
his brother, after numerous discussion on the subject, were hired as his
personal body guards and secretly as a campaign manager.
     It wasn't a hard decision to make to stay with the FOH. When he first
became Creed's bodyguard, he doubted many of the policies the FOH preached.
He often saw and felt the redicule mutants received because was often
accused of being a mutant due to his immense size. After three years of
hearing the same speeches daily and listening to the continuous hatred Creed
displayed, even the strongest willed people would begin to believe it
themselves. Lance was no exception to this rule.
     He sat at Creed's computer terminal, scanning through files that might
provide some clues to his assassins identity. "Freelancing... Fundings...
Future project...   Journal. Hmm. What's in here?"
     "Did you say something?"
     "No. Just mumbling to myself." Creed is the last person he would think
wrote in a journal. Lance double clicked on the file and it took almost a
minute to boot. He must have written in this for months with as long as it's
taking.
     The first page appeared and was dated February 23, 1993. He quickly
scanned the entry and sure enough it dealt with two mutants who had
conceivable ruined his life. No specific details were given to who they
could have been.
     Lance figured the more important entries would be located further into
the journal, so he scrolled down at least half way through, hoping something
would catch his eye. 

     April 15, 1994

"I participated in a televised debate against Henry McCoy this afternoon.
The issue was mutant rights. Yet again, mutants feel as if they should have
more rights than the average human that founded this country. In front of
millions, he goaded he into losing my temper and thoroughly embarrassed me.
Is it any wonder I hate these animals who think they are human. Well Mister
McCoy, On behalf of humans everywhere, we will have our revenge. Especially
on those who make a stand against me... Xavier."

     Xavier. He's the one who heads that school in Winchester if I remember
correctly. Lance scrolled further down. Many of the entries that followed
dealt with a desire for control and power to rid the world of mutants. This
almost reads like Mein Kampf.
     Towards the end of the journal, the entries began to involve his quest
for the presidency and his suspicious nature towards everybody.

     September 18, 1996

Today I had committed an act against the humanity I've tried to be a savior
to. It seems that there are those among us who have been brainwashed by
muties or are mutie lovers of their own volition. As much as I'd like for
the former to be false, they are out there. In this country. In this HUMAN
country and this can not and will not be tolerated when I am president and
there is no doubt that I will be.
A man blatantly spoke out against me on the mutie issue. Can't he see what
this world is coming to. His eyes need to be opened.

     September 17, 1996

I was told today that the man I had beaten will live. That is a good sign.
At least I have kept to my sworn promise to never kill a human in the
interests of muties.
I spoke with Drake this evening about the sins of the fathers passing along
to the sons. The response I got was startling. There was something in his
eyes that I don't know if I should trust. He basically came out of nowhere
to this campaign...

	That entry went on descibing Drake's background, which Lance had no
interest in.

     September 30, 1996

My suspicions have become reality. It's hard to believe that he had
successfully infiltrated my staff for so long without my sensing. I had
several background checks made on him. An excellent job was done in creating
his identity. Birth certificate, passport, credit cards were all made with
appropriate dates. However, within all forgeries lies something forgotten. I
had a credit check made on him and in the twelve years he possessed credit
cards, not one purchase was made nor were any annual fees processed. I found
this hard to believe.
Unknown to Drake, I had his fingerprints, taken from a glass of wine,
scanned and run through a computer. It turns out he is the son of the man I
ordered beaten. Not only that but records proved he was enrolled in Xavier's
School for Gifted Youngsters, or as I like to call it, the Circus Freak Show
School. I could easily have him killed but I want to make an example of him
after the election in front of everyone.

     Beating the old man was something Lance had despised. Even after
reading the entry, he didn't agree with the order. It was too late now to
change what he'd done. Maybe Drake had something to do with Creed's death as
a form of revenge taken to the extreme. It would not be surprising. "Lestor."
     "What's up?"
     "We're going for a little road trip. Are you up for some extra work?"
     "Sure. Where we headin'?"
     "There's a mutie at the hospital right now, waiting for an excuse to
have an extended stay."

Next: Rogue's powers solved???? A new menance eyes the X-Men.