Je me Souviens [complete]

[Vigilante]

Ginny Hayes wiped down the counter at Smith's Mini-Mart, one eye on the clock as it slowly inched its way towards six in the morning. The night had been paticularly uneventful, and she fought a yawn as she tossed the dirty papertowel in the trash can.

With any luck she'd be at home, in bed and asleep, by six-thirty. She didn't live far, and her Harley made for a short trip home anyway. 'Course, she could use her mutant 'power' and teleport, but she was usually too tired after a long shift to 'port that many times in a row. Sometimes the distance restrictions on her power was a real pain.

Giving into another yawn, Ginny leaned against the cigarrettes and looked at the door as a few guys walked in. They headed towards the back of the store, most likely to fuel up on Mountain Dew and/or Slurpees. They looked like the type to do the Dew. Of course, usually at this time of day you got your working people who want the paper and cheap coffee.

Pete Smith walked in from the back room, passing the three by the soda coolers on his way to the counter. "Had a good night, Ginny?" He smiled cheerfully, but she saw his nose wrinkle a little as he walked by the customers. Someone was probably wearing a cheap cologne or something. He was good at filtering out most 'ambient smell' as he put it, but he was forever complaining about little old ladies and their perfumes, and cheap cologne. Aqua Velva wearers beware!

"Pretty slow, Pete," she said, moving to the register to start counting down her drawer for the night so he could start fresh. "Pretty damn slow. I think I fell asleep twice."

"Hah, I'll have to dock your pay for that," he joked, but he seemed to be watching the three guys out of a corner of his eye.

Ginny caught his glances and frowned slightly. She mouthed, something wrong? and he shook his head, but didn't stop keeping an eye on the customers. Ginny turned to the drawer and counted quickly.

[The Brotherhood]

The trio milled about for just a few minutes - just long enough to be the very last customers before Ginny's shift ended.

One of them, a tall black man with corded hair and a pair of shades, set their selections on the counter - a two-liter of Mountain Dew, a pair of coffees, and a large bag of chips.

He paid cash, with exact change, and walked out without a word before the receipt printed. His compatriots joined him on the way out the door.

Between the bills in Ginny's hand was a scrap of cardstock with a handwritten note.

9/16/06-9/23/06??

7:00 PM tonight.

It is time for answers.

--Saladin

On the reverse was the printed address of the Red Nail bar on Kingsley Street.

[Vigilante]

Ginny's hand tightened involuntarily on the card, and Pete leaned over, squinting. "What's that?"

She shook her head, not wanting to worry her friend. "Just some rave invitation. You know kids like to hand those out to everyone."

Nosey looked towards the door and frowned, "He didn't look like a rave kid to me."

Ginny harumphed, and gathered up the deposit for the night shift in a bank envelope. As she did so, she slipped the card in a pocket of her jeans. "You know you smell better than you see, Nosey."

He smiled good naturedly, "Well, that is the truth of it. Have a good night off tonight. Stay out of trouble." Pete winked and slid the cash drawer shut and leaned against the counter.

Ginny yawned fantastically, and nodded. "I'll probably be sleeping. See you around!"

Out the back way she rolled her motorcycle out of the back room and into the alley that ran behind the store. Closing and locking the dock behind her, Ginny made sure the bank deposit was tucked safely in her jacket, and pulled out the little card that the last customer had slipped her.

9/16/06-9/23/06??

She knew the dates. They were significant because they marked a big blank spot in her memory. Did this Saladin person know something? Creep... Jaime... had told her something about a monster with one red eye knocking her out on the wall outside her old studio apartment, which had to have something to do with the memory loss that Ginny had suffered.

Red-eyed monsters climbing apartment buildings and stealing memories were pretty damn scary. Especially when Jaime confirmed that Ginny had been no where to be found for a week after the girl's encounter with the monster on the wall.

Ginny realized that she was crushing the card in a tightened fist, and forced herself to relax. Go to the bank. Go home. Sleep. And then go get answers. She revved up the bike, and took off down the alley.

*****

The Red Nail bar was not a place that Ginny had been before, but it had been easy enough to find. She parked her Harley, stowed her helmet, and made her way into the establishment at a few minutes before seven.

[Saladin]

The Red Nail was dark and smoky, full of aging beechwood and Old World atmosphere. The place was long and narrow with just a pair of windowpanes facing the street, and the booths along the left-hand wall were sunken in the floor and sheltered by high walls and eaves. This was a place built for privacy and a quiet drink with a few friends.

A teenaged boy was wiping down one of the tables near the streetfront. He looked up at the sound of the bell and approached Ginny cautiously. "Um... Miss Hayes?"

He looked relieved when she nodded a confirmation. "The gentleman's in the back," he said. "Booth number eighteen. He said you can give me your order, and I'll bring it to you. His tab."

[Vigilante]

She didn't like the Red Nail almost as soon as she walked into it. Too dark, too closed in. Private, yes, but her training caused her to search out exit strategies, and there were few options. But then, with her mutation there was always a quick exit available.

Ginny pushed down her professional concerns, but again was slightly unnerved to be ID-ed as soon as she walked in the door. By name, no less. She nodded slowly, eyes wary.

"The gentleman's in the back," the kid said. "Booth number eighteen. He said you can give me your order, and I'll bring it to you. His tab."

"Vodka cranberry then," she answered, and walked slowly back in the direction the guy had pointed. It was warm inside the bar, and she unzipped her leather jacket, letting it hang loose as she stripped out of her motorcycle gloves.

At booth eighteen she paused, then slid into the empty side opposite a shaggy haired blonde man. Ginny flipped the crumpled card onto the table. "So is it question time, or answer time?"

[Saladin]

There was a long, leather coat hanging on the hook mounted by the booth. The man wore a dark pinstriped shirt with rolled-up sleeves; he was at once casual and poised. Beside his clasped hands sat a frosted mug of German lager.

"Both," he said. "I think we are each seeking the answers to some of the same questions. But let's set aside some old business. Firstly, I know your secret. You are the Vigilante."

He held out an open palm eighteen inches from his mug. A spindle of glowing green energy linked the two and pulled the drink into his hand.

"Fortunately, I'm not one to be concerned over such things."

The bar boy returned to deposit a red, iced drink, smiled, and left without a word.

[Vigilante]

No use being scared now. Ginny hung onto the shreds of her confidence as firmly as she grasped the drink she'd ordered, and shrugged as nonchalantly as she dared. "If I was the Vigilante, that's in my past."

The missing memories had messed with her more than she cared to admit. Usually cool and confident, Ginny had spent the last year looking over her shoulder at any shadow that seemed unusual. She'd hung up her bow, and called off her attacks on the Russians. "But I don't know anything about you, Saladin. Except that you obviously possess the X-Gene."

She lifted the wedge of lime off of the edge of her glass and squeezed it into the drink.

[Saladin]

"Is it? More's the pity."

He took a measured sip of the frothy lager with the relish of a sommelier.

"Mutants shouldn't have to fear exposing themselves for what they are," he said. "Shouldn't have to fear persecution by their neighbors or oppression by a paranoid, unevolved government. I am an enemy to all those who seek to subjugate mutantkind. Including gene traitors who betray their own blood brothers and sisters."

He paused, letting the implicit threat hang in the air. Then he smiled magnanimously.

"But I'm sure such descriptions do not apply to you."

[Vigilante]

Gene traitors? Ginny raised an eyebrow and her glass, and sipped the cocktail. "If you know about me, then you know I keep to myself. I don't run around hurting... other mutants." She paused, considering her words. "Well, at least not that I know of." There was always the possibility she'd offed a few muties in her Vigilante quest, but she doubted it.

"So, I went missing for a week in oh-six. I don't remember anything. How do you figure into it, Mr. Saladin?"

[Saladin]

He drowned several seconds in another sip of his lager, watching Ginny intently for any sign of duplicity.

"You are not the only mutant who disappeared under mysterious circumstances that year. I've learned of twelve others, ranging from the beginning of August to the end of February. They vanished from their homes, from their workplaces, often with no signs of struggle, no warning, no trace. As far as I have been able to tell, of those thirteen, you are the only one who has returned."

[Vigilante]

"What makes you think these other disappearances are connected to mine? After all... if I came back and the others didn't... well, that's a pretty big difference."

Ginny swirled the ice in her drink and took another sip.

[Saladin]

"A friend of yours called one of my associates the night you disappeared," Saladin said. "She described a monster with one red eye climbing your apartment building. We don't have much in the way of eye-witness accounts surrounding these attacks, but what we've heard suggests a single assailant, highly mobile and deadly. Until recently I had assumed it was probably another mutant."

He removed a photograph from an envelope and laid it on the table before Ginny:

http://www.sw-fans.net/wiki/images/4/48/Zero-photo.jpg

"This was taken from a security camera in London. This entity attacked several of my people there and killed at least two of them. It is highly agile, skilled in combat, and is capable of rendering itself invisible by some means of optic camouflage. Unfortunately, it disappeared before we could neutralize it."

[Vigilante]

She looked down at the picture but didn't touch it. "Jaime called you..."

Ginny reached over and pulled the photo closer. "I wish I could say this jogged my memory. So this is some sort of mutant killer?" She pushed the picture away, sitting back in her seat. "Do you think the others who were taken are... dead?"

[Saladin]

Saladin nodded gravely as he pushed the picture back into the envelope.

"But I don't think they were killed on the spot. I think they... and possibly you... were abducted for genetic research.

"What do you know about the Jericho Center for Genetic Medicine?"

[Vigilante]

"Not much - its a hospital that specializes in mutant care or some such. I've seen the commercials on TV, that's about it." Ginny paused, her mind still dwelling on the fuzzy security photo Saladin had just put away. "You think they were behind this? That I... we... were taken for some sort of creepy research project?"

Unconsciously her hand was lightly rubbing her throat.

[Saladin]

"They have the motive, but not the resources," Saladin replied. "They mainly prey on children there. But I know they're receiving both government and military support. We've observed soldiers and armored vehicles patrolling the compound. And then there's our red-eyed monster."

He noted the way her hand had moved to her throat and filed it away for later review.

"I believe Jericho is a front for something larger and even more sinister. An organization buried deep within the government, with extensive military and scientific resources. So far my inquiries have turned up two names. First: Colonel Gideon Vasher, a former U.S. Army intelligence officer with a penchant for black projects. And second: Vanguard. Which is either a military unit, a research and development center, or both. I think they are responsible for these abductions, and I can only guess at what they might have done to you before wiping your memory clean."

[Vigilante]

She fought the urge to shudder, and tried to sound light as she said, "Yeah, I try not to think about it. I went to the doctor... no obvious violations." Ginny finished off her drink and set the sweaty glass down on the little paper napkin it had come on.

"I'd ask how you think my memory was wiped, but I already figured it must have been some sort of mutant that did it. I mean, its not possible in the realm of science, is it? So would that fall into the catagory of 'gene traitors'?" She went on without waiting for an answer. "The fact that the Army, or even someone who is former Army, could be involved in this..." Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off a growing headache.

But a name... a name was good. A name meant she might be able to find this former Colonel and get some answers.

[Saladin]

"They're paranoid," Saladin replied. "They're terrified of becoming obsolete. As they see it, there are only two options: either keep us down, or find a way to keep up themselves."

He rummaged for something else on his seat. "I think the mysterious attacker may be their attempt to keep up. As for keeping us down, they have this."

Saladin set a thin, metal collar on the table in front of Ginny.

[Vigilante]

Her eyes widened at the sight of the silvery collar, and her heart started racing as adrenaline began to surge. Forcing herself to try to relax, Ginny gasped, "What is that?! I..."

She shook her head to clear it, and whatever she'd almost remembered floated away. Still, the collar thing scared her.

[Saladin]

It was impossible to miss her reaction - it was intense, visceral.

Saladin lifted his hand away from the collar as if its touch disgusted him.

"This," he said, "is a suppression collar. When active, it emits a low-level field of a highly specialized radiation which blocks the influence of the X-gene. Essentially, it turns us into them."

He folded his hands beside the evil-looking metal band.

"The doctors at Jericho claim to have invented it. But then, they also claim to have their patients' best interests in mind. I think this is Vasher's handiwork."

[Vigilante]

She was having trouble keeping her eyes off of the collar. "What possible reason could there be to use that?"

Even as she said it, however, she thought of at least one reason. "I mean... for dangerous mutants who can't control their powers... maybe. But..." Ginny smoothed her hair with her hands. "I mean, this sort of explains how they could hold onto me. I never thought that I'd be kidnapped and anyone would be able to make it stick, y'know?"

She was babbling. Ginny picked up her glass and let the melting ice drop into her mouth, and she started crunching it.

[Saladin]

"I think that's exactly the reason. It's a means of control."

He raised his beer again to drink, but paused as if the subject of conversation was turning his stomach.

"I'm afraid that, in all likelihood, you were violated. In a very deep and disturbing way. Are you familiar with gene therapy?"

[Vigilante]

Ginny shook her head. "Not really," she mumbled around the ice in her mouth. "You mean like stem cells, and all that cure for cancer stuff?"

[Saladin]

"That's similar, but not the same," Saladin said. "Gene therapy involves actually inserting new genetic material into a person's living cells to affect a certain trait. Usually you hear about it in terms of treating genetic diseases, replacing a faulty gene with a healthy one. As far as the public knows, it's in highly experimental stages."

He leaned in closer, pushing the collar aside. "That's as far as the public knows. I happen to know that certain governments have made a great deal of headway in genetic research the past fifteen years, thanks in no small part to the explosion of the X-gene. They are using us. And not just to treat disease. They are harvesting our genetic material to try to map mutant traits onto human soldiers."

[Vigilante]

"That's... disturbing." Ginny looked into Saladin's eyes, gauging his veracity. He seemed to be telling the truth, but then - why? She rubbed her forearm as though feeling a bruise that wasn't there. She frowned lightly.

"Even if all this is true - why tell me? And how do you know all this?" Ginny shrugged, "I don't remember anything about that week. I can't help you find where they took me, if that's what this is about."

[Saladin]

"I've had my share of experience with people who barter lives in dark rooms," he replied. "I know what to look for, and my resources are considerable. As for why I'm telling you... I hoped you might be interested, if the opportunity arises, in helping me find out more. I thought you might be interested in finding out some answers yourself. But, ultimately, I'm telling you because I think you deserve to know."

He took a steady drink of his lager. "You're a private person, and I respect your privacy. But isolation can be a weakness, one that parasites like Vasher will not hesitate to exploit. I wanted you to know that you don't have to be alone."

[Vigilante]

"Oh, I want to find out more." Ginny's voice had a slight edge to it. "If there's anything you need me to do, I'm in."

She shifted her gaze from his eyes to just past his shoulder, staring into space for a moment. If she ever got her hands on Vasher and found out what Saladin was telling her was even partly true... Her hands twitched, and she tightened them into fists. "Do you think its possible to find the others? The other mutants that were disappeared? Or... its been over a year..." Her voice trailed off, and she looked into his face again.

[Saladin]

"I hope so," Saladin replied gravely. "Three of them were acquaintances of mine. I'd like to know what happened to them. And whether they ought to be avenged. But even more, I want to make sure they never do this again."

He clasped his beer glass, and his mouth flickered into a shadow of a smile. "Does this mean the Vigilante may hunt again?"

[Vigilante]

Ginny looked out over the Red Nail, her voice a little distant. "Its a distinct possibility." She pulled her gloves out of her jacket, but didn't put them on yet. "You're part of the Brotherhood, right?"

The name had come to her suddenly, something Creep had said flashing into memory. Saladin nodded, and Ginny continued, "How can I get in touch with you? If I... don't want to be so solitary?"

Ginny didn't really want to team up with anyone, but if Saladin had more information than he was telling her... or perhaps he was feeding her a line, trying to get her to react in a certain way so he or this Brotherhood could benefit. She was already running possible senarios through her mind - how she'd react when faced with this former Colonel, or his red-eyed monster. She kept coming back to the same thought: What if I already tried this and it didn't work? But then, she'd come back when others hadn't.

[Saladin]

Saladin handed Ginny the envelope that held the picture of the mysterious assailant.

"There's a list in there of the names and last known addresses of the other mutants who disappeared. I've also written a phone number on the back. You can call at any time, day or night. Identify yourself as Vigilante. They'll help you to get in touch with me or with one of my immediate associates."

He pulled back the collar off the table. "If you find something out on your own, I'd appreciate if you'd let me know. I want these bastards stopped."

[Vigilante]

Ginny put down her gloves on the table and picked up the manila envelope. "I'll be in touch..." She turned it over in her hands slowly. Vasher would be findable, probably not through the VA, but even Army intel left paper trails. She might be able to get into places that Saladin and his people hadn't thought of.

And the addresses of the other... other kidnap victims. She frowned lightly. "Out of curiosity, do you know what the mutations of the others were?"

[Saladin]

"Six of them had various physical enhancements. Increased strength, speed, senses, reflexes. The others were more exotic. One had rapid healing. Two were telepaths. One could absorb and reflect various sorts of kinetic energy. One was bio-electric. Another could secrete mind-altering toxins.

"And then there's you. I don't believe for a moment that this was a random sample. They wanted a particular variety of subjects to study."

[Vigilante]

She was quiet for a minute, thinking hard. "Seems like a tough bunch to get the drop on. Plus, I don't mean to sound like I'm bragging, but it would take quite a bit to take me down. Well," Ginny flushed slightly, "I suppose one lucky shot would do it, really.

"But enhanced reflexes, et cetera... with Vanguard's military connections this almost sounds like they are trying to learn how to create a super soldier. If what you say about their research and gene therapy is true." Ginny paused for a moment, imagining one mutant with all thirteen mutations combined. A teleporting, souped up and electrified, toxin-secreting, super healing telepath would not be someone she would want to meet in a dark alley. "The Army has always been interested in using mutants... controlling and using them, that is. Its part of the reason I kept my mutation a secret."

[Saladin]

"That's understandable," Saladin replied. "Mutants have enemies everywhere, especially in high places. That's why it's critical to know who your friends are."

He downed the last of his lager with a satisfied sigh.

[Vigilante]

It was unspoken, but Ginny understood that Saladin was implying that he and the Brotherhood were on her side. She nodded slowly, then picked up the envelope and put it inside her jacket, zipping it up to protect the contents. "It is good to have friends. Guess I didn't realize that until recently."

Ginny held her motorcycle gloves in one hand, and reached across the table with her right to shake hands with her new aquaintance. "I appreciate this. I will be in touch."

[Saladin]

Saladin responded with an iron-firm grip.

"Thank you. I look forward to working with you, Vigilante."

[Vigilante]

It was weird, being called by the handle the media had given her during her so-called 'reign of terror' against the mob. It wasn't that the name didn't fit, or that she didn't like it, but it was bizarre to hear someone actually say it in reference to her.

Ginny pulled her gloves on as she walked out of the Red Nail, the manila envelope a comforting presence against her body under her jacket. Perhaps it would be a good thing, getting out again. Perhaps being part of a pack would be safer than being a lone wolf.

Perhaps.

Ginny fired up her Harley, fastened her helmet securely, and drove off. No, she couldn't remember what had happened to her, that week in 2006. But she felt sure that soon enough she would find the answers she and Saladin were looking for.