Welcome to Untainted Grove , Purifier Paradise

August 24, 2015:

The X-Men Black Team travels to Untainted Grove, a kibbutz-like settlement in Texas built by human supremacists. Their mission is to rescue Anne Moran, daughter of the NYC Police Commissioner. Emits by Nate Grey.

Untainted Grove, Tx

Described in the scene.

Characters

NPCs: The good citizens of Untainted Grove and their LMDs

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

Untainted Grove is a three year old village in Texas northwest. There are very few records of its existence, as it is in the middle of nowhere. Emma’s people investigation revealed large tracks of rather poor and worthless land was purchased through dummy corporations based in the Caiman Islands (they are still trying to unravel the money trail) and eventually ended up in the hands of a cooperative called the Untainted Grove Non-Profit Society.
Then, through advanced technology and a good deal of work, water was brought to the surface from deep wells, fields were cleared of rocks, top tech farming machines and equipment was purchased, greenhouses were built and a clean, well-ordered village was raised.
Untainted Grove looks pretty nice in the satellite images. Rows of white and red mono-familiar houses around a big, modern church. There is a community center, a gym, a school for children (there seems to be a good number of them) etc, etc. Outside, endless fields of wheat, which soon will be harvested. Also, a large firing range where there are always people shooting to wooden targets. But well, it is Texas.
All looks nice, but the village is surrounded by a 10 feet tall double fence, topped with barbed wire, electrified. Day and night men in sheriff outfit with dogs patrol the perimeter. The only road to the village is also patrolled by the cars of the sheriff office, which must have like 50 members given how many uniformed men are. 50 cops for a village of 2500 seem too much. Even for Texas.
Not that they every receive visitors. Every morning a truck leaves the complex, travels to the nearest town to pick up supplies, and returns before dusk.
Somewhere in that village there is a woman called Anne Moran, daughter of NY Police Commissioner Stein, and her two children. X-men Black is out to rescue them, and accidental damage to the village is maybe not to be very accidental. This place is Purifier Paradise, after all.

The challenge, now, lies in getting close enough to scan the minds of those inside the town, to find the woman and her children they are here to retrieve. Emma looks thoroughly disgusted by the attire required for such an operation, but she does not verbalize her disgust; wearing it is bad enough, without being reminded by others that /she/ was the one who decided this needed to be done. She cannot afford to appear weak, and so weakness is stuffed down deep and snuffed out as if it never was. Looking like a tall blonde SWAT team reject, Emma eyes the others. "I can prevent the men from seeing us. But I can do nothing about the cameras and other sensors." she explains, waiting for someone to prove to have some brilliant idea somehow short of driving a Sherman tank through the front gate.

Lunair would probably prefer an explosive strategy. But there's a sympathy for the captured people. Those who are fair to mutants are precious. She can do camouflage armor to a point, but it's not as awesome as some people's camouflage. "We could ambush the truck driver and take the truck," She offers. Lunair is in her power armor, looking like she escaped a video game. "Or um… hmm." She's not so sure on brilliant ideas at the moment.

"We'll need to intercept them in town, most likely. I have no intention of shopping for them, and we'll need to glean from their minds the sum of what they know about security precautions and procedures, so that we can fit in." Emma advises. She has no idea how it is they'll manage this. She imagines they have scanners all over the place that will pick up their mutant presence. That's the kind of luck they've been having with Purifiers lately.
"Can you do that powered armor thing again? I don't trust them not to have another of those Smooth bombs, or something worse." Emma inquires of Armory. This all seems patently insane without more X-Men. But she was told to take care of it, and given Lunair to assist. So. Here they are. Maybe she should just hire a pack of mercenaries?

Lunair herself is quietly concerned. She nods at Emma. Not to mention those infernal metahuman sensing drones, among other things. It makes her twinge to think about it, and the urge to just drop explosives everywhere rises for a second.
"Totally," Lunair nods. "Just say when." This really does seem a bit tough with just the two of them - even if Lunair figures Emma is a total, diamond cold badass. When Emma gives the word, there'll be a sleek, soft silvery shimmery sort of power armor. Nothing that will be blinding or stand out too much. But it's power armor, so that's that. "I wish I had brain powers sometimes," She admits finally.

The explosive strategy is never out of X-Black list of strategies, but the presence of many children in the village and the need to rescue a few innocents makes nuking from orbit Plan B this time. Instead, taking over the delivery truck seems a better idea.
It is not very hard, the Purifiers have a few vehicles, but they are all the same model. Small trucks that go to a warehouse in the outskirts of the nearby towns to pick up supplies. In the warehouse a group of heavily armed people load the supplies, which are usually requested several days ahead. Some food, some clothes, some tools, and a ton of ammo.
Then the truck leaves the warehouse, and Emma easily takes over the minds of the two men inside. They are fanatic human supremacists, as expected. But interestingly enough, they are not Purifiers, they are just FoH members that want to live well away from any mutant. With their families. Raising their children as good, human, god-fearing American (Texans!).
For self-defense against the bloodthirsty, corrupt and likely demoniac (Reverend Striker says so in TV!) mutant hordes, they have learned to use firearms. They know the muties are coming for their wives and children.
Emma can get out of their dull heads most of the villagers think the same. Although a few went to New York recently, volunteers in the Purifier militia. Heroes all of them! And half of them died in the battles with the mutant gangsters of Mutant Town, which were trying to take over the whole city.
Security is pretty tight in Untainted Grove. They have cameras, they have many guard dogs. They have genetic tests for detecting mutants. They do not have mutant scanners. At least these two don’t know of such technology. They do have a lot of firearms, though, and they know the mayor, the sheriff and his men have ‘secret weapons’. They also know Anne Moran, who surprisingly also works for the sheriff office as a deputy. His husband, Walter, went to New York, so she lives alone with her children.

The incredible effectiveness of the Black team was not just in a unity of purpose, but the breathtaking diversity of skills they all possessed. Rose and Lunair could handle a small army between them; Nate and Emma, perfectly capable of blinking their way psychically past most masses.
Betsy's unique talents, however, made her ideal for working as a forward member of the team. She'd been inside the town since before dawn, laying low in an empty residence. Her parasuit and the short dragchute that arrested her momentum were wrapped into a tiny bundle and stored under a few wooden slats nearby, and she'd quickly changed into her dark bodysuit, hair whipped up into an efficient bun behind her head and face covered by a darkling half-mask. Various accoutrements of a ninja persuasion are strapped to convenient, nearly invisible loops and hooks.
She's meditating quietly when she finally gets the inkling sense of Emma's unique telepathic presence, and though it takes a few minutes for her to hone in, she does so, with the familiar tickling sensation of her thoughts linking them into a gestalt team awareness. A handy trick for a team of covert operatives.
~Emma, I believe I just sensed you on the boundary point,~ Betsy projects, eyes still lidded. Images and data starts flittering out to the team, a huge, detailed map of the town including names, faces, locations of personnel and equipment, even patterns of movement and awareness of activities and plans. Betsy's been busy gathering intelligence, apparently. ~Linking in now.~

"You should drive." Emma opines to Lunair. "I'll tuck into the back and concentrate on my job. They'll see you as the driver they're expecting, with all of the right passwords and phrases. Hopefully I'll be able to reach and influence the minds of the men watching the monitors of the cameras watching the entrance. If not, you'll need that powered armor in a hurry. I'll warn you as best I can." Such positive thinking is truly humbling, isn't it?
Emma hates this, and is somehow convinced things are going to go wrong. But this was all her idea, and she still believes it needs to be done. She's just wishing she had an Abrahams tank to see it through. As they approach the perimeter of the town's fences, Emma is reaching out with her mind, painting Lunair as the driver, and creating the image of the passenger, as she blocks any and all awareness of herself and her presence. Now she has to find those watching the monitors, and help change their minds as well.
~// Good evening, Elizabeth. We are approaching the gate checkpoints now. I have not found the minds of those watching the monitors. If you hear explosions, I suggest you run. Away from us. //~ There goes Emma's fatalistic streak, right on schedule.

The truck is expected at five in the afternoon, just in time for dinner at the social center. Many people go there for the free food and to meet their neighbors. Children, just out from summer school, get to play together, and the adults watch the news together in big plasma screens. In fact Betsy can see the cars going towards the center of the village. It is pretty hot outside, not many folks go walking.
One of the vehicles, however, stops behind of the residence she is hiding. Somene steps out of the car and heads for the backdoor. Betsy can hear him opening it, but she can't hear his mind, it is as if he is not there.
Meanwhile the truck is at the front gate of the village, and a couple bored sheriff deputies walk forward to greet the drivers. "Hey Max. How did it go? Did you remember to give Harry my letter?" The other heads to the rear of the truck, to open the trailer door. It is the rules, they have to check. The man has done this a hundred times and in all the village history no one has tried to sneak in hiding in the trailer, so he expects nothing.
One of the guard dogs, however, approaches the truck and begins growling.

Lunair is listening. She's quiet, and pauses. "I don't think that'll be good if they have cameras out the wazoo," She remarks. Lunair would really like to have that tank, too. Alas. Lunair offers, "I can hide in back if we can um," handgesture to head. Mind control, "Suggest the drivers do stuff." She does respond to Betsy, « Hello. And indeed. » Because cool guys never look at explosions, right?
Hope springs eternal for the failed lab project. "I'll hide in back and armor us ASAP if it comes to it," Nod. Sounds good?

Betsy's eyes flicker open at her highly attuned senses informing her of someone's very deliberate approach. She assesses her options- out the window is too noisy, but fast, if needed. The door is quicker yet, but that might provoke a fight.
Counting down the seconds in her head, and with that seemingly unflappable nature at the forefront, Betsy darts back noiselessly and moves to the simplest of places- behind the door itself. She presses her back to the wall and stands pleiae, even, inhaling and contorting herself until she's almost beyond the range of motion of the hinges. Her breathing slows to a low, steady movement through her nostrils, belly moving and chest perfectly stilled.

Crouched in the shadows, she keeps her weight perfectly spread between her toes, near the wall to prevent any tell-tale creaking, and with her other hand, draws her wickedly hooked and poisoned karambit, ready to explode on on the intruder at the first sign of alert.

Emma continues her efforts, with Lunair tucked into the back with her. She cannot affect the dog's mind worth anything. But so long as she prevents the humans from noticing the dog's antics, and makes sure they keep it on its leash properly, that doesn't really matter. They won't notice, because she doesn't want them to notice. Just like they'll open the back and look inside, and never see her or Lunair.
Emma continues to scan through their thoughts, looking for any awareness of security measures she won't be able to skate by telepathically. She's betting those precautions have to be here somewhere, and it's best if she knows about them /before/ they try to kill her. And Lunair. And Elizabeth. And Moran and her children. ~// Be ready, Lunair. //~

The intruder in Betsy’s hidng place is one of the deputy sheriffs, and he is not trying to be particularly quiet, really. He steps into the room handgun in hand, although he is pointing up. “I know you are here,” he states in a monotonous voice. “Please, step out with your hands up, I do not want to hurt you.” There is not a trace of Texan accent in his voice.
Meanwhile the guards at the gate behave as expected. The one opening the trailer’s door fails to see Emma. The one talking to ‘Max’ fails to notice he is talking with Lunair, and idly pulls back the alarmed dog by the leash, without acknowledging the animal has noticed anything strange. There are two other guards at the gates, but they are some distance away. Lunair can see them. But Emma… she can feel only three minds.
Regardless, the gate opens slowly, and the man at the cabin’s side gestures for the truck to advance. The cameras can’t spot Lunair well, due to her cowboy’s hat. But no one is watching the screen, anyway.

Betsy's telekinesis pushes outwards. She accomplishes several things at once- slipping soundlessly out from behind the door at the moment the deputy faces the other way. Bracing her foot against a telekinetic shelf so not a whisper of noise from the floor underfoot betrays her. Her thoughts wing out and with a furious pressure, she snaps the mainspring of the pistol with a discordant *twang*. A tactic she found more fun to practice than endlessly picking locks telekinetically, anyway.
She lashes out with both hands at once and a strong kick aimed at his knee, in an attempt to get him in a compliance hold and put the soporific tip of her karambit into his neck if necessary.

Lunair does her best to be warm, charming and smiling. She offers a little nod and wave to the man. Using b-mail (that's brain mail), Lunair relays to Emma, « There's more than three. There are two guards - four in total, » She offers. She does her level best to seem normal, polite and warm. She doesn't react too much to the animal being alarmed. And she keeps her cowboy hat nice and tilted. The truck will advance as they are gestured in.
Lunair feels more than a little tense inside, uneasy. But she's doing her best.

~// How pleasant. Yes, Andrew there is often aware that … Daniel? Daniel is apparently very stiff and hard to know. Not nearly as personable as the others in the guard crew. ~ Emma explains to Lunair, as she too tenses. They drive on, and she gets ready. It's going to go terribly any second now.
~
Remember: get to the sheriff's station by any means necessary, and try to find Moran. Tell her you're here to help save her and her children. If she resists, run. ~// Emma recites. She's already preparing for failure. Certainly, it matters if she survives. But she's making plans as if she's guaranteed not to make it. Plan for the worst. Applaud the best if it happens.

The deputy reacts quickly, and somehow he noticed Betsy? He must have very sharp senses, because he was turning to face her when she strikes. Just he was not fast enough. The handgun is rendered useless. Then his leg is kicked hard, and something snaps. Except it didn’t sound like bone; and the man expression barely changes. No reaction to the stab of the weapon either, although it draws some blood.
The deputy steps back and aims his gun Betsy’s chest, attempting to shot, and then he realizes it is broken. Like his knee, so he leans on the wall and speaks. “Intruder at 52 Garden Street. I am injured, requesting assistance.”
Meanwhile, the truck gets into town. Daniel, the guard with the unreadable mind, failed to notice anything wrong.
Now, the truck is supposed to go to the community center, close to the sheriff’s place, but the Moran’s residence is the second street left. What are they going to do?

The kids won't go with strangers, without their mother. Without her, this all falls apart. ~// Keep driving to the community center. Once they start unloading, we'll make our way to the station and try to find Moran. ~ Emma explains to Lunair silently, as she directs the drivers to follow suit.
~
Elizabeth, we're inside the perimeter. Warning: there's at least one, possibly more individuals who do not register telepathically. I am assuming androids. //~ Too late, but Emma can't know that.

Lunair nods, reflextively more than meaning to. « Sounds good. I can hotwire a car if we need, » Or, y'know, Emma can do her Jedi mindtricks. Lunair is becoming convinced Emma is secretly a Jedi Master or something. Nevertheless, she is polite to Daniel and the others, taking notes of what Emma says. Maybe that does explain the mindlessness. Who knows? Nevertheless, she is going to drive them to the community center, to avoid raising eyebrows.
She is quiet, doing her best to look like she belongs.

Betsy's eyes widen, and several things click into realization for her at once, even as the blow is spoiled, the knife failing to leave more than mark. She's off balance, though, the speed and counterattack too much. She grabs the gun and with a neat twist of her elbow, breaks his finger inside of the trigger well, the motion all automatic and born of instinct.
~Androids, indeed. I've been made. Attempting evasion- expect guard activity,~ she shouts telepathically, driving the message into Emma's consciousness with the urgency of raw shock. The entire team receives, of course, but the message is for the woman who is so very much at risk of this precise sort of threat.
Betsy steps close with those half-circle, gliding steps of hers, moving with a patient deliberation that is so much faster than it looks, and a long, glimmering construct of translucent psionic energy springs from her closed fist. She drives the massless blade forward and into the android's skull- no edge to this weapon, it passes straight through complex electronics and endoskeletal components and sends a massive surge of psionic energy directly into normally shielded circuitry. Suppressing her panic about the security alert, she shifts her weight to withdraw the blade and push it into the android's chest cavity. A few seconds of searching and an explosion of guided telekinetic force tears asunder a fist-sized region of microprocessors. In a human, that would be the medulla oblongata, but the effect is generally the same. The kunoichi grabs the android's radio and mutes it, takes a half-second to pat him down for any intelligence, then makes a sprint for the side-door, the least exposed of any of the egress points available to her.
~I can attempt to divert some of them, but my chances of survival are going to be extremely challenged if I have to sustain it for long,~ Betsy announces to the team with a quiet and prim mode of thought. ~I would advise you to play the role and announce yourself as a security team to the target, and extract them quickly. I will attempt to evade custody and procure my own means of escape.~

As they approach the community center Lunair can see there is a situation going. A couple police cars are already speeding towards 52 Garden Street, and several more deputies are leaving the building in a hurry. Emma can feel a dozen more agents getting ready to hunt down the intruder, they are also calling the village militia, but they will take a while to mobilize. None of them is Anne Moran, though. A cursory scan reveals the woman already left for her home.
Betsy finds the android somewhat tougher and faster than a normal human. He tries to stop her from ‘killing’ him, although without the usual frenetic panic a human being would show. But she is just too fast, and when the telekinetic blade splits his skull, he stops moving. Running him through the chest is perhaps excessive, but if there was a backup electronic brain there, it is also destroyed, and Betsy ends up sprayed on a good deal of synthetic blood. She is not going to get a radio out of the dead robot, though, unless she wants to run away with his jaw!

~// Damnit. She has already headed to her home. But we're expected to stop here. Get ready to suit up. I'm going to make us disappear. If the androids attack … //~ They'll need to defend themselves, and still get to their targets. Complete the mission, even as one of their own makes a suicidal run for it.
Emma is not happy. She remains cold. Emotionless. Distant. But deep inside, a storm is raging.

Lunair is unhappy about the news from Betsy. « Please be careful, » She thinks. Lunair nods at Emma. « We'll behave normally until then then, » She'll suit up on cue but *only then*. They can only pray the androids don't decide to bother them. She hopes Betsy is okay. She's not happy, more nervous and concerned. Tons of explosives might solve her problems but not yet. Not now. She is unaware of Emma and her storm, but it's probably for the better given Lunair's problems.
She'll go with that plan.

Though Betsy is far from Emma's equal as a telepath, or Jean's equal for telekinesis, she perhaps equals them each in terms of ingenuity and adaptability. Even as she flees one way, moving with a silent, springing step across grass and even narrow garden rails, she flings false trails behind her. A door slams inwards two houses behind her, as if kicked in by a stout foot. Every human pursuer is 'sure' they saw her moving south and east; the cacophany of panicked screams from telepathically startled people in that direction corroborate that. She reaches out to sense thoughts and motion with her mind, senses extended to a level far beyond any human level, to the point where she moves in the half-moments between when guards are looking her direction or their heads swivel away.
All the while, she leads the guards on merry chase, well away from the direction of the Moran's house and the location of her teammates.

The large truck going the wrong way would usually be a cause of concern, but Emma makes sure no one even realizes. Well, there are cameras, and sooner or later someone will pay attention. But as it is now the bulk of the attention of those watching the screens is in Betsy. They are tracking her through the security grid over the village. But then a scared neighbor calls the sheriff office, stating there is an intruder two blocks away.
A second intruder? They need to investigate that. A patrol car is diverted.
And then they get another call, from yet another telepathically startled neighbor.
Still, in a minute, Betsy is going to have some armed company. Meanwhile, however, Emma and Lunair arrive to Anne Moran’s residence, at the other side of the village. Things are still quiet here. The place is a small family house, two stories, probably three bedrooms upstairs. Emma can feel an adult and two children inside, they are preparing to have dinner.

~// Everyone is here. Prepare for extraction. Follow me in, and I'll do what I can to smooth this over quickly. //~ Emma sends to Lunair, as they stop the truck. Then she puts the original cartakers of the truck into almost comatose levels of sleep, and leaves them in the truck as she and Lunair climb out and move around the house, choosing the back door rather than the front to make their entrance.
As they approach the rear, Emma reaches out and gently but firmly takes control of the senses of the occupants of the house. Then she lets Armory take the door, since no one will notice, and then steps in behind her and closes it. She hates being quite this brutal, but they cannot afford screaming hysterics. So Emma simply allows herself to appear to Moran, while tamping down on the woman's ability to scream.
"Ms. Moran, we are here to help you. We are here to get you and your children to safety. I'm sorry to have to surprise you like this, but we don't have a lot of time." Emma offers. She's not going to make this woman agree; but if Moran doesn't agree, Emma's not going to be allowing her to sound the alarm. They can't afford that.

Armory will take the door. She will be backing Emma « Okay, » She agrees quietly. She climbs out, takes the door, steps in and seems relieved Emma is so talented at this. She nods as Emma talks. She is a quiet companion. She is also rooting for Betsy. Quietly praying.

Betsy is stalling, true, but the plan in her mind comes together quite efficiently. Get them spread out- minimize the concentration of their numbers. Reduce the advantage of surveillance. A few cameras go out in a suspicious pattern around the 'threat' area, who will notice one a little further out dying as well?
Then it's a matter of finding a patrolling agent- a woman, of course- and with a gentle psychic nudge, pulling her away from her teammates. Leading her to another empty house. A quick series of paralyzing blows and a direct prod to the brain's sleep center knocks her out for several hours.
Betsy strips the woman down to her skivvies and climbs into her (very) ill-fitting uniform, and with a grimace contorts and twists herself until her ankles and wrists don't hang out of the clothing. She curls her toes in tight to fit the too-small boots and even affects a slouch.
With a bit of psychic misdirection and a hard, 'I'm very busy' look on her jaw- and some good old-fashioned body language adjustment- she starts moving with a brisk half-jog towards the rest of the team, right before very loudly exploding a transformer a half-block away in a brilliant shower of sparks to make very sure everyone is looking in the wrong spot.

It is a good thing Emma took over the senses of the house’s inhabitants, the second the blonde telepath says she is here to help, Anne Moran’s mind goes to the shotgun she keeps over the cupboards.
She needs no help. Not from strangers. She is a Purifier herself, just like her husband.
Quick too, Emma has a second to disable her before she picks the gun and shots straight to the telepath’s head. This is the woman that allowed herself to be beaten up and recorded on video to deceive her own father. She is also trying to scream and call for help. But she can’t!
Meanwhile Betsy neatly ambushes and disables the first couple deputies that reach her position. Oh, they tried to warn them through the radios, but they only heard what Psylocke wanted them to hear. Disguised, the ninja manages to avoid the reinforcements. At least for another precious minute or three. She can hear (and mind-read) some militiamen coming with hunting dogs.

"Damnit. Never mind. Armory, pack it up. Get the suits. We're leaving, without the packages." Emma offers, aloud, as she turns for the door. She shows no fear of the Purifier woman and her shotgun … because she has no intention of allowing her the will to go get it. "We came to help save them. They don't need or want saving."
Once outside the home, Emma maintains control until the powersuits appear. Then she lets go, as she seals inside and reaches out to Psylocke. ~// Elizabeth, the mission is a bust. Repeat, the mission is a bust. Moran is as much a Purifier as her husband, and allowed herself to be beaten to sell the blackmail to her father. She is in no danger, and neither are her children. We're suiting up for extraction, and coming to you. //~

~…that's rather a bit of a damp squib, isn't it?~ comes a liltingly dry reply.

« Maybe she can be convinced to admit that some day or something. She could sprout a conscience or uh… » Something about pigs flying. Lunair will power suit Emma up in sleek, nifty looking armor because she figures that's how Emma rolls. She will get her own power armor up to protect herself. At least they can fly out if needed. And Lunair will follow Emma along to help retrieve the best ninja. That Lunair knows, really. But that totally counts.

There was the opportunity to take the woman and kids, and use the phenomenal psychic power of the Black Team to make them believe the false story of the kidnapping and blackmail was the truth. It would have made Commissioner Stein far more hostile to the Purifiers. And Anne Moran is a murderous racist anyway. No loss, right?
Sometimes having a conscience makes life harder.
Anne will be fine. Oh, she is going to hate mutants even more intensely after feeling Emma’s powerful telepathy render her helpless to protect herself and her kids. But physically and psychically fine. For now.
The Purifiers and the militia of Untainted Grove are not going to be so fine. They have light weapons, quite ineffective against Lunair’s armors. And Emma and Betsy can trick their minds so they can’t even shot the right direction. A few more androids do show up, but although they are invulnerable to telepathy, they are not particularly resistant to bullets, much less lasers or railguns. By the time the Purifiers can bring some heavier weapons from their arsenal, Lunair, Emma and Betsy are nowhere to be found.

After the team is safely extracted, Emma puts the next part of her plan in motion. She won't kidnap Moran, or her children. If they don't need rescuing, that's fine with her. But she is not entitled to lie about it, blackmailing and manipulating her father into supporting terrorism. It is said the truth said set you free. They shall see.
Having felt Moran's mind, Emma finds it rather easy to find that mind even at a great distance. There is no longer any need for the team to be in close quarters with the enemy taking unnecessary risks. Instead, with quiet meditation and concentration, the White Queen reaches out, and issues her orders. Not only does she compel Moran to call her father and confess the truth, but she makes sure to fish through Moran's mind, find her memories of the incidents in question, and then use that knowledge to guide Moran in assembling evidence that proves her collusion and the lack of threat. Then she compels not only confession, but the delivery of said evidence to Commissioner Stein. What he does with that information, she leaves up to him … at least for now.
Then X-Men Black can head back home. First class, all the way. Is there any other way to travel with the White Queen? Certainly not.

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