Peter Wisdom sat in a corner booth by himself. A drink in hand, a hat over his eyes, he kept to himself, as he knew he had to. He glanced at his watch nervously.

Never been this bloody scared . . . the sooner she gets here, the sooner I can get a move on. I need to get off this bloody island before all of Black Air comes down on me. Almost hard to believe I've stayed alive this long.

He glanced at his watch again.

Dammit, Tangerine . . . where the hell are you? Get here already, and have the information I need . . .

Pete looked up slowly. The pub had been emptying. He leaned forward.

Everyone's leaving . . . but the pub's open for a helluva lot longer than this . . . unless . . .

One man slowly walked through the door, entering the all-but empty pub. The last person inside, the bartender, turned and walked out the back exit.

Pete looked up, examining the man. He stood tall, just above Pete's height. He wore a black suit, white shirt, black tie . . . classic uniform for Black Air. The bald head with the tattoo of the sun on the forehead gave away the man's identity.

"Scratch," Pete frowned, slowly pushing his hat up out of his eyes.

He grinned wickedly. "Wisdom . . . "

Two years ago, I ripped this guy's face off. He's a cold blooded killer . . . and I sought to teach him a lesson. It's times like this when I regret not killing the bastard.

"You're not the type to come into a place like this," Pete said quietly.

"You know why I'm here. I'm here to kill you. No one walks away from Air."

"Nefaria's insane," Wisdom frowned. "All of Air is . . . if someone doesn't do something soon . . . "

"No one's doing anything," Scratch grinned. His hands began to glow with pink energy. "You, or your telepath friend . . . "

"Tangerine?"

The mention of Tangerine was meant to distract him. Pete Wisdom knew he had but a second. He took it, diving left out of the booth and narrowly avoiding the blast of energy that tore his seat apart.

"You missed, you useless git!" he exclaimed, rolling with his dive. "God knows how . . . not like there's any hair to get in your eyes."

"Do you remember how to kill?" Scratch asked, ignoring Wisdom. "You were always pickier than I was about targets. Maybe you forgot. This is how you do it!"

Another energy blast. It was luck, Wisdom knew, that he was in clear range of the bar. He dove behind it, letting its wood frame take the brunt of the blast.

I can't keep this up . . .

Scratch reached and arm over the bar and grabbed Wisdom by the collar. In one swift motion, he threw the Brit through the glass window of the pub's storefront. Glass shattered. Wisdom's blood dripped over the street.

Scratch began to levitate slightly off the ground, allowing himself an easy path through the shattered glass. "I was told to simply eliminate you. I'll see that you suffer first."

"Whatever floats your boat!" a kick from Wisdom caught the floating Scratch off guard, knocking him back and giving Pete just a few seconds to make a run for it. Blasts of Scratch's destructive energy followed him as he ran, getting closer and closer, until Wisdom used his mutant power to shatter the window of another storefront and dive inside.

"Like shooting fish in a barrel," Scratch grinned as he stepped in front of the store. "Come out, come out, wherever you are . . . "

Scratch slowly stepped over the busted window frame and inside. He looked around for anything moving. "Killing you is like killing children . . . too bloody easy."

Pete Wisdom leapt from his hiding spot and grabbed Scratch's leg. He instantly began to extend his hotknive fingers. Scratch's hand charged with energy. Both exclaimed:

"Don't move!"

"This is a predicament," Scratch grinned.

"Maybe," Wisdom replied. "Just comes down to whose faster."

"Not really much of a predicament then after all."

"Maybe."

Five hot knives tore up Scratch's leg, extending through the chest and eventually to his head. They pulled back into Wisdom's hand after piercing the top of Scratch's skull. The man fell dead instantly.

Wisdom stood up. "Maybe not."

What he said earlier . . . Tangerine?

Pete didn't even have to knock. The door was blown in and off its hinges. The energy signature was clear. Scratch made a stop before going to the pub.

"Bloody hell," Pete frowned as he climbed the stairs towards her room. "Tangerine?"

He saw her body, curled up on the floor, burned and bloody.

{{About . . . t-t-time . . . }}

"Tangerine?"

{{Barely . . . holding on . . . using m-my . . . t-t-t-tele . . . telepathy . . . keeping hold . . . }}

"I . . . "

{{Neo . . . possibly . . . m-m-mutants . . . stronger . . . Hellfire . . . plotting . . . find . . . Excalibur . . . M-m-m-muir . . . isle . . . *}}

"Tangerine?" he asked once again. It was no use. She was gone. Killed because she was one of the few people Pete Wisdom ever trusted. "Muir Island. Excalibur does exist . . . bloody hell. I'm sorry, Tange. I'll make it up to you . . . God only knows if I can pull this off . . . but maybe this Excalibur is just what I need . . . "

The mysterious building stood tall as a skyscraper, its features completely covered in darkness by its own appearance. Very few know of its innards.

"This is the prisoner?" a man in a black suit with white hair asked. He stood beside a brother and sister, both blonde haired, blue eyed Germans. They gazed into a tv monitor being fed images from a camera inside a prison cell.

"Her name is Amanda Sefton," the brother spoke. "We knew of her and her mutant ability to teleport, much as we know about nearly all the mutants in western Europe. Raised in a group of traveling gypsies, she actually sought a normal life as a flight attendant, of all things."

"Why is she here?" the man with white hair asked.

"There was a . . . Neo sighting," the sister answered. "They apparently attacked her and at least two other mutants. She used her powers to attempt an escape . . . and wound up right at the feet of one of our patrols."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Archer, sir," the brother cut in, covering up his anger, "my dear sister merely informed you of how we discovered her. She was brought here as a prisoner to be used for further study."

"Lord Nefaria has no time to waste on genetic renegades," Archer frowned. "Give her to our scientists already . . . the sooner they do what they want, the sooner she is dead and out of our sight. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the sister nodded. She waited for Archer to leave the room. "Brother, how on earth do we tolerate that man? He is absolutely, dreadfully annoying . . . "

"We do what we must, my sister," the brother replied. "After all, he is but a step down from our good Lord . . . and we're but a step down from him. Our time will come, and soon . . . but not soon enough for that poor mutant prisoner girl to survive. She dies . . . but from the ashes, Fenris shall rise . . . "

"Kurt, you've got to calm down," the large Russian Piotr Rasputin said.

"Calm down?" Kurt asked. "Gott in Himmel, how am I supposed to calm down?"

Just hours ago, Kurt Wagner had decided to move from his current nomadic home amongst a circus troop and go to Muir Island to lead a group of mutants called Excalibur. He came with his lady love, Amanda Sefton. Led by Rasputin, they traveled in a medical jet used by the island's owner, Dr. Moira MacTaggert. But then it was shot down by a group of beings called the Neo. Kurt and Piotr used their powers to fight them off (Kurt's being enhanced agility and teleportation and Piotr's the ability to transform his flesh into organic, nigh-invulnerable steel), but their jet was destroyed, and Amanda had disappeared.

"You brought me here to lead some 'super-hero' team of mutants, right?" Kurt sighed. "Well, let's put them together and go find my Amanda!"

"It's not that simple," the large, blond, British man answered. He was a mutant himself. He could fly and he was super strong, and as the newly dubbed Captain Britain, he wore a suit that projected a small force field around him, rendering him partially invulnerable. Beside him stood his girlfriend, the mysterious Meggan. She was a mutant, too, though Moira suspected more was to her than just an x-factor gene. She demonstrated control over fire, water, electricity, and could fly. Yet her mind thought almost more like a child at times. "We don't have any way of tracking her, and we can't just go running about for no reason. Besides, what of these . . . Neo . . . that attacked you?"

"I've been running through every computer network I can find," Doug Ramsey spoke up. He was another new recruit, a teenage boy from New York who could speak and understand any language, even computer. "I've found nothing on the Neo."

Rahne Sinclair stood silent in the back. She was a teen, too, and her mutant ability was to transfer into a wolf, or a half human half wolf creature. Lockheed, a small purple dragon from another realm, laid around her neck and shoulders.

All that was left was Doctors Moira MacTaggert, leading expert on genetic mutations, and Rory Campbell, criminal psychologist working to help 'evil' mutants.

"And we'll need you all around for added security for the next delivery," Campbell said.

"What delivery?" Meggan asked, puzzled.

"Some mutant captured in the States," Rory shrugged. "All I've heard is she goes by Rogue, and that no one's to make skin-to-skin contact with her . . . something about her powers. But she's being sent to me so I can help her."

"What about your current 'charge'?" Doug asked.

"Copycat's gonna be awhile," Rory shrugged again. "I can handle two patients at once, I suppose."

"Who's bringing her in?" Moira asked.

"Tinya," Campbell answered. "I'd sent her to the States last week to take care of some work, and this is the perfect opportunity for her to come back."

"That's all well and good, but--" Kurt started.

"Moira?" Piotr interrupted. "Maybe Kurt and I could go back and search our crash site. Look again for any signs of Amanda?"

"I'll go, too," Rahne cut in. "I'm th' best suited tae go lookin' for someone wit' me enhanced senses . . . "

"Absolutely not," Moira frowned. "I'm willing to let you two boys go, but Rahne, I dinnae want you involved in anything."

"Moira, she said it herself, she's the best suited to come with," Kurt said. "Let the girl come and let's be done with it. We can take that craft Peter used to get back from the crash. Let's go."

The blue, fuzzy-elf turned and headed out. Piotr, the human Colossus, shrugged and followed, Rahne walking quickly behind. Moira shook her head.

"I'm gonna go prep for this Rogue mutant," Doctor Campbell said, walking off.

"I'll lend a hand," Doug shrugged and followed.

"If Rahne gets hurt . . . " Moira muttered angrily before walking off in the opposite direction.

"Well then," Brian said to Meggan. "Look's like we're alone again."

"Just the way I like it," she grinned to him.

Lockheed snorted at being ignore and flew away.

"Unfortunately, I'll have to go back to London soon," Brian frowned.

Meggan frowned too.

"The Hellfire Club is still keeping far too many secrets from me. I've got to get myself integrated in there organization before they'll divulge any secrets. Being the Red Pawn of the Inner Circle, I'll have to pay close attention."

"I know," Megga sighed, hugging him. "Doesn't mean I like it."

Brian nodded, hugging her back. "Of course, we do have at least tonight before I have to go back . . . "

Meggan looked up at him and grinned, but before she could make a comment, the island's proximity alarm went off.

"What?" Brian asked, immediately standing taller. "Come on!"

He grabbed Meggan's hand and the two flew outside to see what was happening. A lone man in a torn, messed black and white suit ran towards them.

"Stop!" Brian demanded. "You're on private property. Identify yourself."

"'Name's Pete Wisdom," he replied. "You're Excalibur?"

"How . . . ?"

"No time for questions. You've got to help me. No ifs, ands, or buts."

"Slow down, man," Brian said.

"Soditoll, we may not have time for that. If you don't help me now, all of England's goin' to hell!"