Kitku felt herself being gently seated in a chair and deliberately waited until the person released her before striking out with her foot. She felt the satisfying connection of foot to flesh contact, followed by a grunt of pain. She took the chance and kicked with her other foot but a hand caught it mid-air.

"Don't," she heard a deep voice say. "Let her go."

There was a long tense silence. Kitku could hear their breathing and her heart pound, which she was positive would explode at any time.

"Fine," she heard another voice then felt cuffs being placed around her ankles.

She turned her head in the hood, trying to see out but it was impossible. She had been able to transform in the parking lot and called up her baseball bat. As she turned to clobber the man behind her, he slapped a bracer onto her bicep and she had been unable to call up her powers ever since.

As he slid a hood over her head, she heard him comment, "No one told us they were mutants."

"No shit," said the shorter of the two. "Somebody dropped the ball on this one."

They had carried her and walked for several minutes before they sat her down. She was not sure how they managed that, after walking around – even in New York – carrying an unconscious woman and a hooded child would attract some attention. So, how did they transport her? Maybe like Kurt's power?

Now she was handcuffed and legcuffed to a chair and unable to use her powers. Strange it didn't seem as important how she got here anymore but where she was and where was Jasmine. She sighed and slowly became annoyed. "Excuse me?" she called out from beneath the hood.

No answer.

"Excuse me?" she said louder.

Still no answer.

"Excuse me?" she yelled. "I have to go to the bathroom!"

But once more, no one responded to her. She positive someone was in the room. They would not just leave her without a guard, unless they considered her not to be a threat.

"Humph, show them who ain't a threat," she swore mentally.

"And how do you purpose to do that, little one?" a male voice asked in her head.

Kitku physically jumped at the sudden intrusion but quickly recovered.

"None of your business, scanner boy," she snarled in her best unafraid tone.

"Scanner boy?" he chuckled. "That is one I have not heard of. I think I like it."

"Wasn't meant to be a compliment," she informed him, a little fear sneaking into her thoughts. "I want to know what's going on!"

"All in good time, my dear," he said pleasantly.

"And all in good time my Dad's gonna come find me and kick your ass, Scanner Boy!" she screamed at the top of her psychic lungs.

"Really?" his tone was surprise, not sarcastic like she would have expected.

Kitku assumed he had left, she had not felt him enter or exit, so the best she could do was assume.

"I still have to go to the bathroom."

She sighed again and waited.

Jasmine felt the cloth on her face as she woke up. She was seated in a chair, a hood over her face and a whopping headache. She felt a bracer of some sort on her bicep and, from the feel of it on her skin, plastic cuffs on her hands and legs. She smiled. Someone had done their homework.

She heard movement to her right and shifted her head toward the sound. She felt someone touch her head and tried to jerk back, but the hand made it to her head. She felt a warm, engulfing sensation run through her body.

"She'll be all right," a soft-spoken male voice said and Jasmine caught just a slight Georgian accent.

At the sound of a voice, Jasmine jerk back from his touch, overriding the pleasant, soothing feeling. "Back off."

"As you wish," came the soothing reply.

"Yeah, I wish," she snapped hotly.

The man moved away and Jasmine was sure she was alone, but then felt the intrusion of someone in her mind. "May I help you?"

She could almost sense the shock from the telepath that she was able to detect him, although he hid it well.

"Oh, I'm full of surprises," she informed him. "You'll discover that as we get to know each other."

"Really, how charming."

She could tell he was studying her surface thoughts but was not intruding any further into her mind. She tried to keep her thoughts away from him; she imaged herself using her powers in a junkyard and built wall after wall of metal.

"Actually, I'm not that interested in what you have to offer," he said with amused inflection as he materialized in her mind.

Jasmine stopped and eyed him carefully. He was average in every aspect, average looks, average height, weight, coloring but that's what made him exotic and fascinating to Jasmine. He was so average; he was over easily overlooked. His soft deep brown eyes held hers for several long moments.

"You're not?"

"No, sorry to disappoint you." He stepped closer to her and Jasmine called on the metal around her to form an armor on her psychic body. He smiled and stepped back. "Actually, we just wanted to know about the girl."

"What about her? If you've ..." Jasmine threatened, her eyes blazed in anger and her physical body jerked and strained against her bonds.

"Rest assured no harm has come of that. My employer gives you his word."

"Fat lotta reassurance that is. He kidnaps us and then gives us his word? Oh, means a lot to me," she snapped back. "His word means spit to me."

"If you knew of whom you referred you would think otherwise," he guaranteed her.

"Yeah? Then who is your 'boss'?"

"You'll know in time."

"Can't wait."

"Now about the girl ..."

Jasmine folded her arms over her chest with the air of obstinacy.

He smiled and bowed. "If you'll excuse me."

Jasmine watched him leave and quickly checked her mind to see if she was alone. She finished putting up her metal barriers and then settled in for a long wait.

Wolverine felt himself slowly regaining consciousness but unlike most people, he kept himself in the same position and same breathing pattern so as not to let his captors know he was awake. He took inventory of himself. Facial bruises and lacerations were healing. Bruised back and neck were also healing. From the staleness of the air and the feel of material on his face, he was hooded. He sensed his arms were tied down in such away that he could pop his claws but not attack or release himself from the bonds. He knew from the feel that his ankles and knees where shackled together, preventing him from moving his legs any great amount.

He listened carefully to all that was going on around him. He could smell two others in the room with him. One was moving closer to him but he did not react, even as the hood was raised just enough for his mouth to be exposed. The man smell heavily of gun oil and steel from weapons, and cigarette smoke.

"Here, drink this," the male voice ordered.

Wolverine did not move or react.

The man sighed, "Buddy, I know you're awake. I can sense that sort of thing. Take the fucking water."

Wolverine sniffed at the liquid that was at his mouth. No poisons, not that it would matter. He refused the water.

"Suit yourself, tough guy." He moved away as silently as he had approached. "It's going to be a long wait."

Wolverine finally just shrugged. The man knew he was awake so why bother with the charade. He sensed the other had left the room, although he did not hear him move. Wolverine heard the man sit down and put his feet up on a table. The room was filled with an oppressive silence and only the intake and exhale of their breathing could be heard and only by someone with heightened hearing.

He had to wonder what the hell this was all about but he was not about to ask. He already knew what kind of answer he would get. He was just curious as to which enemy wanted his hide this time. He thought about it, but most of the names he came up with would have tried to kill him right then and there and not bothered with this cloak and dagger routine.

Wolverine closed his eyes and waited.

He walked through the reinforced, oversized door into the relatively sparse, but large office. There were no windows and only this one visible door. Only a large desk of simple construction, two chairs in front of the desk and the oversized, padded chair behind the desk were the only decorations in the entire room save for two overhead fluorescent lights. The office was purposefully adorned in this sparse manner so as not to give any evidence of who the man was or any glimpse into his personality.

The man that sat behind the simple desk was currently staring at a laptop computer and shaking his head. He was a huge man with massive muscles; his broad chest was bigger than two of Controller's and his arms were larger than the size of Controller's thighs. He wore a simple black outfit that covered him from head to toe, silver covers hid his eyes and reflected the light, around his enormous check he wore two bandoleers that housed shurikins, and on his forearms, currently folded in, were black stained blades. The man finally turned his head to Controller and shut the laptop. He tilted his head and waited.

Controller sat down in one of the chairs that faced the desk and cleared his throat. "Aloud or mentally?"

"How delicate is the subject matter?" an eerie, hushed, cybernetic voice asked.

"Well, not too. I do not foresee any reason for it not to be conducted verbally." His employer's voice was no accident and it was another carefully constructed cover against his identity. No one, outside a select few on the team, had ever seen the man, knew his true voice or anything else. He was literally an enigma to all law enforcement, Mutant hero groups, and vigilantes.

"Very good, continue," the same whispering voice ordered.

Controller nodded, shifted himself in the chair to a more comfortable position and gently entered the man's mind, quickly dropping all the information and exchanges that he had encountered with the girl and the woman. Even as Controller was feeding him the information, the man was processing and deposing of parts as fast as Controller gave it.

Controller sat back for a moment and waited for the man to gather his thoughts.

"There's something wrong with this scenario and with the information we were originally given," the man said as he stood up. He cut quite the imposing figure, as he rose to his feet. He was well over six and a half feet tall. His body seemed even more titanic as he turned towards Controller, crossed his arms over his chest and drew himself up to his full height. "I do not like being duped or make the fool of and that is exactly what those men believe they have done."

"Agreed," Controller said but flinched on the inside. The man felt he had been wronged and would go for revenge. It would be bloody but quick that was how he operated.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he collected his thoughts. "I want to speak with the commodities before we go any further with this venture."

"Of course, but need I remind you, the more time you spend around them, the better change the man has of placing you," warned Controller.

The big man nodded. "It's a chance I must take."

"It doesn't surprise me that we were led astray about this job," the telepath said as he stood up.

"How's that?" he asked as they paused at the door.

"Who would take a job that would feasibility put them at war with the X-Men?"