3| Vie ou Mort?
The pounding of a headache returned Lauren to consciousness. Whatever gas the men used had worn off, but left an equally throbbing pain below her eyes. Her lashes fluttered as she struggled to open her eyes; even though she wasn't fully alert yet, at least she was awake. Multiple aches in her body—from her head to her nasal cavity, to her chest, arms, back, and ankles—competed for her attention.
She was bound to a chair with her shoulders burning from her still-bound arms around the back. She felt the familiar heavy metal bars cuffing her arms and wrists. Her ankles were similarly bound by the shackles. Lauren leaned up the best she could to see the contraption: red and blue lines emanated from a box in the center of the black metal manacle. The red and blue lines pulsed with light; she guessed the box hid the energy source. Before, she had felt an energetic aura radiating off it, supplying warning; even now, she still felt it. But a forewarning against what? These were some hi-tech handcuffs for a woman barely one-hundred-and-twenty pounds.
A single hanging lamp let her see. The light left all four walls in shadow, but she could at least see that the space was small and built solely of gray concrete. No lines of those clunky concrete blocks; just entirely smooth and with no splash of color or decoration whatsoever. Nor were there any windows, only a closed door looking to be made of metal to the right. From the looks of it, Lauren thought this room belonged in a military bunker or something like that.
"H–Hello? Is anyone there?" she asked through a dry mouth.
Silence answered her. The room felt so still as she waited for something to happen. She shifted in the chair to supply noise. Lauren asked again and again for someone, her voice rising higher since frustration set in at the refusal to answer her. The emptiness seemed to crowd in around her—if something didn't happen soon, she'd go mad.
"Hello!" she screamed. "Someone answer me! Why am I here! What do you want!"
Because of the silence, she heard the shuffle of footsteps as someone approached the door.
A man and a woman stepped into the room; he shut it and joined her before Lauren. A low bun held the woman's blonde hair and her high cheekbones, full lips, and aquiline features made her a beautiful woman. She had that perfect hourglass figure all women wanted. Her heels made her taller than the obviously militarized man beside her—with a crew cut, black military fatigues, combat boots, and the way he stood planted on his feet said he was. She wasn't sure if she was more afraid of the intimidating man or the woman with icy blue eyes—something about her scared Lauren.
Her eyes jumped from one to the other; she didn't recognize either of them. She waited for one of them to talk; when neither did, she decided to start.
"Who are you people? What am I doing here? Do you want money? I can get you some—"
"We're going to ask the questions here," the man stated.
The way he interrupted and how hard he delivered his statement had her dropping into silence. She had a feeling he had a short temper and shouldn't anger him.
"She's not a mutant," the woman suddenly said.
A mutant? They thought she was a mutant? She had heard about mutants—people born with various abilities, like telekinesis, walking through walls, or super-strength—but she had always thought it a hoax. That television coverage of a man with magnetic powers or a blue woman who could change her skin to look like someone else looked fake. She had never heard of a report of mutants in Chicago. If that was why they took her, they had a crappy surveillance team—there was nothing supernatural or extraordinary about her life.
The man cut his dark eyes over to the woman in irritation. "We know that; that's not why we brought her in."
"I'm quite aware of your intelligence, Lieutenant." She looked at him with a leveled gaze. "I'm just stating the obvious so I can hear your explanation on why Power Locks are on her who has no powers."
His lips thinned as his eyes hardened. Their animosity heated the entire room—these two did not like each other.
"Protocol," he clipped.
She scoffed. "Protocol. Sounds like you've lost your ability to recognize an actual threat. Have you forgotten the true danger is standing right beside you?" She looked to loom over him.
He didn't cower back like Lauren would've—he held his ground and took up a staring contest with her.
"No... ma'am." The Lieutenant looked like he hated having to answer to her.
"You best not forget it." She turned back to face Lauren. "You are human, but you can still be useful. We seek someone, and you met him earlier today. His essence lingers on you, so I assume he gave you something of his."
Lauren's eyes widened and her mouth popped open as the queen of hearts burned against her skin, as if in guilt. The cute guy with the red eyes? He was a mutant?
"The street performer? You mean, he's a mutant? Why do you want him?"
The Lieutenant took a threatening step toward her. "What did I say about questions?"
The woman raised a hand to ward him off. "She is expected to be inquisitive. You don't understand because you know everything." A nerve twitched in his jaw as he stepped back.
"That man's name is Remy Etienne LeBeau, also known as Gambit. He is a powerful mutant with the ability to use energy in an object and transform it into kinetic energy; when he charges an object and throws it, it explodes on impact. He is dangerous because of this and must be contained."
She meant to kill him by saying that. Lauren hadn't picked up a dark aura around him like with this woman—she had felt comfortable with him. Was he really someone to be feared?
"Is he–is he bad?"
"He has killed before and isn't afraid to again," she answered.
Depending on how one viewed it, she answered her question, and she didn't. Killing someone sounded bad, but it could've been justifiable... She wasn't telling the whole story.
"How do you think I can help? I don't know where he is or even how to find him!"
"Find a way to become useful or we don't need you," she said, deadpanned.
Lauren couldn't speak—she was heartless talking about killing her if she didn't do what she wanted, like she couldn't care less. She was the bad guy, not that Gambit!
The Lieutenant looked at her; the woman angled her head as if listening. Something happened, for she nodded; the man turned to the door as she looked back at Lauren. "Decide on if you want to keep living by the time I return." She headed for the door; the Lieutenant hadn't waited for her. With the closing of the door, Lauren was left alone again, still stunned at the ultimatum before her.
The unnerving stillness snapped her out of shock. Even though she already knew the room was empty, she cast about in hopes that something just magically appeared and she could use it to free herself.
Who was she kidding? She could barely move as secure as the Power Locks were. How could she free herself?
The realization of her fate being sealed set it—not unless she agreed to help them track down a guy to kill him. She fought to keep from panicking, but the tears came anyway as her breath hitched. They were going to kill her. Her parents, sister and her husband flashed across her eyes. How long would it take before they learned of her death, or would they ever know? She didn't want to die.
A hand suddenly clamped over her mouth; she screamed in fright because of it, forgetting that whoever was in there with her could help her escape.
"Shh, ma chérie, shh," a familiar accented voice whispered in her ear. "I will get you out."
Remy LeBeau? How did he get in?
Weight lifted off her arms and wrists and she heard a clink as the Power Locks hit the floor. He removed his hand from her mouth as he came into view and crouched at her ankles. She watched as he just touched the center box; a pinkish light appeared at his touch and the whole thing lit up. The shackle short-circuited, the restraints opened, and it fell off her ankles.
He helped her stand. She had so much to ask him, but knew now wasn't the time.
"No talking; not until we're out."
She nodded and, with him holding her hand, they went to the door. Gambit carefully opened the door, checked to see if it was safe, then tugged her out into a lit hallway composed of the same dull gray concrete as her room as he shut the door behind her. He led her down the hallway, then peered around the corner to check for people.
It seemed like they were stuck in a maze at how many similar hallways they snuck through. Gambit suddenly stopped, grabbed her, and pushed her into a dark office. They knelt under the window and eventually, Lauren heard a man talking and two soldiers passed by the window. He was very light on his feet, like a thief prowling in a house of sleeping people, and had good hearing since he had heard them.
The routine continued other than when they had to duck into rooms to avoid soldiers. In one hallway with a camera watching the next hallway they had to go through, Gambit placed his hand on the wall the camera was mounted on. That pinkish light traveled up the wall, following the bending wires hidden behind the wall, to the camera; when the light went into it, the red light blinked off.
With no one in sight, they just rounded a corner when an alarm started. Lauren jumped at the suddenness of it and she desperately wanted to run. He reached back to grab her arm.
"Keep calm," he encouraged.
A door a few feet ahead of them opened and four men came out, armed and alerted at the alarm. Before they could process that the two in front of them caused the siren, Gambit flicked his wrist and playing cards appeared in his hand. He threw them one after another at the targets; they flew with that pinkish light glowing around them in the appearance of flames. The cards struck each man in the face and soon the once-standing soldiers lay on the ground, immobile.
Lauren gaped at what had just happened.
"Did you—"
Someone wrapping their arm around her neck and pulling her back cut off her question. Gambit whipped around to see another man charging at him. With a flick of his other hand, a staff already glowing pink appeared in his hand. He used it to beat back the guy; once he dropped, he spun, hitting the man holding Lauren in the face with the end of the staff. He jerked back from the blow—releasing her—and Gambit used the moment of surprise to lay into him until he crumbled to the floor too.
He gave her a hand to stand.
"I think it's time to run now, amour," he said.
They took off running, not trying to reduce noise. In one hand, Gambit still held the staff; the other held Lauren's hand. He let go when he performed a leaping kick to take out a soldier just stepping out of a door. The poor man dropped, not knowing what hit him, but a comrade lashed out at the mutant to avenge him. While keeping an eye out for approaching soldiers, she waited for him to finish fighting and join her.
As the double doors appeared, Lauren knew they had found the exit. Gambit told her not to slow down when they got outside, just keep running to the tree line. Even if she made it there, Lauren didn't think she would stop for a while—she wanted to put as much distance between her and the woman as possible.
The doors burst open and Lauren kept running, even though a spotlight blinded her. She heard the zip of a flying card as Gambit threw one; with an explosion, the light disappeared. More cards whizzed out of his hands as they ran—she heard more explosions followed by the winking out of spotlights and men yelling.
A chain fence quickly came into view; Gambit threw a card at it. The barrier exploded and left a hole large enough where they could slip through. Seeing freedom awaiting within the dark forest cutting a line across the sky increased her speed. Once almost to the tree line, she chanced a glance back to see some kind of facility or military bunker.
The darkness hidtheir escape as she and Remy LeBeau slipped into the trees encircling thebunker.
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