Cadie waited until she was certain Wolverine was deeply asleep before she slipped silently from the bed and headed for the bathroom. *Y' not makin dis easy, mon amour.* Sorrow blanketed her thoughts. *Wish wit' all my heart dis didn't have t' be dis way.*

(He'd insisted on moving into her room the same day, claiming it was because he wanted to be with her until she left, but she knew he really wanted to keep an eye on her, to make sure she didn't leave before Scott had had a chance to formulate some sort of plan. She loved him for his intentions, she just knew that this time, they weren't enough. So she and Remy had plotted this, using Guild hand-signals and a lot of luck.)

She turned on the water to make him think she was taking a late shower if he woke and silently popped the screen from the window. She stuck her head out and saw Remy waiting below, watching her. He motioned for her to hurry.

She swung out onto the tree branch and quickly shimmied down to the ground. "Bishop be back dis way any minute, petite, we cuttin dis too fine," he hissed as they ran together toward the high wall that surrounded the estate.

Even as he spoke, they saw the big man come around the corner of the house. He didn't look their direction at first and they used those precious seconds to go over the wall. "Dis woulda been easier if y'd jus let us use de gate," she gasped. "Cadie outta practice, frere."

"Don' tell nobody, petite, but Gambit be jus as outta practice as you," he hissed back as they pulled out Remy's Harley, hidden earlier in the day. They walked it down the road for a few minutes to be sure Bishop had gone back around the house, then mounted it and rode away into the night.

Wolverine forced himself to keep his eyes closed until he heard the miniscule sound the screen made as it left the window. *Darlin, yer good, but yer not _that_ good.* He rose from the bed and moved into the bathroom, turning off the water and noting which way the wind was blowing. Not that he'd need her scent, but he preferred to be prepared. What he _wasn't _ prepared for was finding Scott in the front hall, headed for the front door with a small black box very similar to the one he carried. He slipped up behind Scott and spoke very softly.

"Guess I wasn't the only one who knew what they were up to, eh?"

Scott smiled and indicated the box. "No you weren't," he said back as they went into the garage. "I slipped a transmitter into Gambit's trenchcoat."

Wolverine held up his own tracker with a grin. "Great minds work alike, Slim. Hers is in her bootheel." He moved his bike toward the door, only to find Scott staring at him. "Well, c'mon," he growled. "We'll stand a better chance on this, trust me. Who d'ya think helped the Cajun rebuild his? I know what it'll do, an believe me, this one's faster."

Bishop jogged over to them as they mounted the Harley. "They went north, Scott. I kept them in sight as long as I could."

"Good job. They didn't see you then?"

Bishop looked mildly annoyed. "Of course not."

"Time to go, Slim," Wolverine said as he looked down at the tracker, now firmly attached to the bike. "They just doubled back. Headed southwest, about a hundred miles out."

"Then go, Wolverine. We can't let them get out of range."

"Better hang on back there, Slim. There's a bar behind ya that'll make a good hand hold." Scott had no sooner grasped the bar than they were off, through the gates and on the trail of their wandering teammates.