Henri LeBeau was as close to a killing rage as he'd ever been in his life. He wanted them all dead. All those self-righteous bastards that thought they were the only ones who should live. The madness of playing God and trying to kill all the inferiors. It made him sick to his stomach. He still remembered the look of the Nazi camps. He was nearly immortal, as was his father because of Candra's potions. But he didn't know if even that would protect him if the damned thing got spread. A plague. He'd been to Africa. He'd seen the poor and the dying as Ebola struck the village. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing that again. No, it was best to take the samples. Destroy the research. And then destroy the men and women who had created it.
Julien Boudreaux looked at the information that his rival handed him. He'd never thought he'd see the day when he'd be willingly be working with a thief, his new brother-in-law included. It wasn't the killing he had a problem with. He'd used poisons before. No, it was the messiness. Assassination was an art-form and these creatures were degrading it into a slip-shod method of ridding themselves of the people they didn't want to have around. And there were no guarantees that it wouldn't kill more than it's target. There were some for hire killers who thought it was an art to kill a plane full of people. Wasteful kills that should have been pinpoint strikes to remove the target. He looked at the thief.
"Dey have to be stopped."
"Dere ain't time t' get approval."
"Non. We do dis." Julien put out his hand. They shook to confirm the partnership.
Mystique looked down at the floorplans again. "Very nice, Rogue. You say that they are keeping biological weapons here?"
"Yes. It's somethin' new. And Ah got a bad feelin' about it, Mama. It's nasty shit."
"What did you learn?"
"It's mutatin' fast. Faster'n AIDS. Ah think it's dangerous. Really dangerous. And Ah think Ah know what it's aimed at. Ah have ta go sift through things."
"Go on. Should I call you for dinner."
"No thanks." Rogue wandered to her room and settled across her bed. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and reached in for the information she'd taken in.
"Damn it, I wish Hank was here," Scott muttered as he sorted through the files they'd taken. "From what we can tell, there is a weapon in development. It's a virus to attack mutants. The only thing saving us is the fact that it's mutating too quickly for them to dare to put it in the general population." He shoved the files aside and looked at his team. They were gathered informally in his office instead of the war room. The war room was now a storeroom for all the things they had to move out of the attic before they could raise the roof. "Come on, we've got clean up to do."
"We're just going to ignore this?" Warren asked in surprise.
"No, we're going to clean up so that we can house the refugees. For the moment we can't do anything about a situation that isn't immediately threatening. Get moving, Angel." Warren sketched a mocking salute. Scott snorted and punched him lightly in the shoulder.