Mission accomplished. Her eyes didn't wander, but the red in her cheeks told Roland that she hadn't missed the matinee. She didn't seem interested in getting him pants, though. Maybe she liked him scantily clad and didn't want to ruin the fantasy. Yeah, that's what it was. He watched three of the knives disassemble into nothingness, but his question of clothing must have really angered her, considering the fourth poking him in the jugular.

“So. Who are you?”

She didn't want to be friends. That was a shame. Now Roland would have to resort to more serious requests. His eyes glanced to the mirror and then they looked over at her own beautiful neck. The knife decided it wanted to poke poke poke at her jugular now. Maybe he would get lucky and she wouldn't think, impulsively stabbing herself. Either way, the gun was firmly in his grip now and he walked toward her slowly.

"If you haven't figured it out yet, Alexandra, I am your old friend Roland Pruitt. You may have remembered me as Ronald Turpit, the alias I used while in Slate's employ. Now that we have introductions settled, I am going to walk by you now and look for some pants. Should I feel so much as light headed, I'll empty the clip into you. I don't want to do that. But I will."

Passing her, he stepped to the light switch, his gun still drawn down on her. Giving it a flip, he saw a wardrobe illuminated by fluorescent light. He opened the doors, finding a pressed pair of slacks and a belt. The slacks were a little large, but that's what belts were for. Once the pants were in hand, Roland found something special. A man, seeming none too happy to be discovered, stood shivering in between the clothes.

Tossing the pants to the side, he stepped back from the wardrobe, his free hand beckoning the man from his hiding place. "Ollie Ollie Oxen Free. What would you be doing in there, Sir? Looking for Narnia?" The man had his hands up in front of him, blabbering in Romanian. If he didn't have an interpreter soon, he'd be telling no tales.

Surprise, surprise.

One moment, a shinning silver blade was at the man’s neck. Then it magically vanished. Surprise, surprise was written all over her face. She couldn’t see what was poking her neck now but it wasn’t that hard to guess. “The hell…” The gun was also resting in his hand now, pointed at her. Why did the power seem oddly familiar? Was he-?

And he spoke. Great. Of all persons she could meet she ran into Ronald-Dean-Roland. Must have been her lucky day, really. She let him pass, go look for his precious pants or whatever, her eyes now narrowed at him. Yes, she was slightly mad at him right now. Because she was the one that promised she’d do her best to end this particular man’s life one day and now, oh well, he was threatening to empty the gun into her. She didn’t doubt the fact that he was capable of doing it.

Her hand moved rather furiously toward the blade that touched her skin. A touch later, it was resting in her hand. The control over the other molecules was dropped soon after. With energy levels so low, she doubted she could use her mutation for long. And besides, what for? Roland had the upper hand here. Or at least he didn’t have any wounds to bleed from.

Speaking of. Alexandra let her eyes trail back to Roland, spying his movements for a moment. Really, who could give a damn about how he looked right now?

"Ollie Ollie Oxen Free. What would you be doing in there, Sir? Looking for Narnia?"

An eruption of sounds followed soon after. Someone else was talking, in Romanian this time. Mostly ‘don’t kill me’, ‘I have a family’, ‘I can pay you’ repeated over and over again. Was every person so pathetic when they faced death? Alexandra shook her head, her interest in Roland and his concerns lost for now. Maybe this was her lucky day. “Wait. Don’t kill him.” She did need to talk louder to cover the pleas of the male hidden in the wardrobe but it her voice didn’t sound demanding. More like just curious.

Alexandra shortened the distance between her and Roland until she could clearly see who was hiding inside the closet. Recognition made her lips turn into a smile. Apparently the captain hadn’t left the ship just yet. He preferred hiding in the closet for some reason. “Shut up!” The command was issued in Romanian, and as if it was magic, the sounds stopped. The director recognized her as well, she noticed from the even more scared face he now sported.

Alexandra chuckled, her eyes traveling now to the pants Roland held in his hand and to his face. “Well, Mr. Pruitt, apparently we both found what we were looking for.” So they could be friends for now. Still smiling, she shifted her attention back to the now oh-so-quiet director. “As for you… you are going to give me every bit of information you have on the business you and dad had. Got it?” Apparently, he didn’t for he wanted to open his mouth to deny something. Now, now that just wouldn’t work. So Alexandra spoke before he could. “Or maybe you’d like to have a hole trough your skull?” She glanced at Roland’s gun, to prove her point. She hated having to threaten the director with Roland but he did look more imposing at the moment. Plus, the conversation was held in Romanian, which, she guessed, Roland failed to understand.

The director nodded now. Stepping to the side, Alexandra gestured to the computer. “Don’t try anything stupid.” The advice was directed toward her newest target, of course, and it was given just before the oversized male left his hiding place. Again, the man nodded and continued his way to the computer. Alexandra looked at Roland, a bit amused. “Now I’ll let you get dressed.” And, she turned on her heels, following her target to the computer and stopping behind his chair to convince herself that he was indeed fulfilling her requests.

"Shoes." He pointed at the man's feet who happily stepped out of them to avoid getting fitted for the undertaker. The rest was still hanging, so it looked like the usefulness of the babbler was over. The gun leveled off.“Wait. Don’t kill him.” Roland's eyes shifted to the lovely Circe, who seemed quite interested in the man before him. A general chicken rant of what seemed to be Romanian commenced, while she looked over at the gun. It appeared as if they were together as far as this unfortunate was concerned.The gun descended, since this would distract her long enough for him to get dressed in peace.

“Well, Mr. Pruitt, apparently we both found what we were looking for." Not by a long shot, but she didn't need to know that. She could poke this guy for a while with pointy objects. Once she was done with him, Roland would take his turn. He always enjoyed when things worked out on their own, without his constant prodding with gun or other deadly object. The shoes were a little tight, but it beat walking on glass. The clothes were all loose, considering the previous owner's girth. They weren't abhorrent and covered in blood though. They were even pressed, so no worries. He slid the pants on and looped the belt as he watched her lead the man into another room.

Alexandra shifted her weight to one leg while dividing her attention between the man and the screen in front of her. An arm was crossed over her chest, the hand grasping at the other arm, more specifically the one with the injured shoulder. The hand that rested to her side grasped the blade. Damn it, right now, she was so tempted to point a gun at the director instead of a stupid blade. Heh.

The pain in the shoulder refused to subside and although the intensity was bearable, Alexandra was tired. Of everything. She wanted to be out and as far as possible from the camps although she didn’t have the slightest idea on what was she supposed to do when her wish would be fulfilled. At the bottom of the screen, displayed in black bold letters and digits was the date. December 31st, 2009. Most people were preparing for celebrations right now. She on the other hand wanted to be isolated from any human being.

Her eyes shifted to the green colored bar that was slowly advancing, showing the progress of the transfer of files on a flash drive. She couldn’t see the director’s face but judging by the fingers that grasped the fabric of his pants, Alexandra could guess that he was far from being happy about it. He wouldn’t be happy about his fate after the process was completed either, but hey, c’est la vie. Sometimes you loose.

The green bar flashed white once before fading into the background. So the transfer was complete. “Delete the files from the computer.” The command made the director turn his head around to show his disapproval. Alexndra’s eyes narrowed at the man. Her hand moved lower, to take the blade and seconds later the metal was resting against the director’s neck. “Now.” Gulping down, the man turned, shifting his position so the blade wouldn’t touch his skin anymore and proceeded to do as he was told.

Alexandra herself lowered the blade. She had proved her point. She moved, placing herself to the director’s side, to both block his way out and retrieve the flash drive. She bent her knees until her hand reached the device and removed it while her eyes were locked on the director’s figure and even managed to glance once to see the progress of the new task that she had given to the man. These actions didn't last more than a few seconds, however, her brain didn’t agree with the movements. By the time Alexandra had straightened herself, her vision was already blurry. In an attempt to correct the faulty perception, she blinked rapidly a couple of times but this action only managed to make things worse.

Her feet acted on their own, staggering backward for a step or two. Not now. As soon as the thought was formed in her mind a hard kick in her sternum left her breathless. Clearly, the director had seen this as his chance for escape. With Alexandra struggling to maintain herself standing and Mr. Pruitt busy to dress himself, his chances to escape were slim but better than none. With the vision still blurred and having difficulties to breathe, Alexandra made another step back although not enough for the director’s oversized figure to slip away. The blurred figure moved closer. Another kick followed, this time right in the injured shoulder. Although she wished she could have screamed, the only thing she managed was to gasp before her body started to descend.

And she went down with a bang. As in a various assortment of papers, pens, a bronze statuette and even the desk lamp followed her to the floor. The desk lamp shattered as soon as it reached the ground and although the sounds were muffled by the carpet, it resembled something close to an explosion in her head. Her already tired and pained body received another hit. This time, to the head, as Alexandra didn’t manage to do anything to attenuate the damage the fall would cause.

The pain that emerged as soon as her head hit the ground was dull compared to the one in the shoulder and for a second she believed that the damage from the fall was close to non-existent. Only when blackness started to swirl around the edges of her vision, she realized that things were pretty bad. Luckily, she didn’t have to worry about it for long. Her eyes closed as she slipped into unconsciousness, the precious information and a silvery blade still being grasped in her hand, her hair sprawled wildly on the carpeted floor and an expression on her face too serene to fit with the blood stained clothes.

Roland had slid the shirt over his shoulders and was in the process of buttoning it while he watched the little scene before him. Poor Circe, it seemed that sometimes God only could put so much into beauty. other things, like brains, had to suffer. He knew what was happening already. He had failed to notice her injury, being more interested in uninjured parts of her body. Now it was clear she had taken some lumps of her own. He could have probably simply tackled her moments ago. Oh well. The files were still being copied. As he worked on his tie, he could see the failed motions as they occurred. He still had interest in the man. She didn't. He would have bled him out the moment the files were finished downloading. Maybe it was the mental and physical fatigue that caused her to be stupid. Or God.

Once she was standing, the flash drive in her hand, Roland could see the fatigue take its toll. She wavered and wobbled on unsure legs. The man who had donated his suit took the opportunity to kick her. Hard. And then another one in her injury while she was down? While appreciating the cruelty, Roland also didn't think it was very fair. Good thing he was there to referee. Fat man started running blindly. Maybe he really forgot about the man wearing his clothes. He stopped short, the muzzle of the gun pressed firmly into his forehead. Immediately came the wavy hands and the gobbledygook of Romanian. The gun smacked him firmly in the forehead. " Speak English or die."

The gun was a perfect translation device. "OK! OK! I know English! Please don't kill me! I have family and money!" Roland's solitary index finger raised to his own lips, signaling the international symbol of shut it. " Do I look like I care?" The man shook his head, little baby tears welling up. " I want the flash drive and I want copies of all of the surveillance on a separate drive. I do know how computers work. So sit your pathetic ass in the chair and do it.Or no more family."

He was surprisingly quicker about it. He must have not felt that Alexandra was a threat, while rightly recognizing the man behind him was. Once the files were copied, Roland pocketed the small storage devices and turned his countenance to the man, who rose with subservient eyes. " I did what you ask. Now let me go free! I won't tell anyone you were here. I won't ---AAAAGGGHH!!!" One shot for each kneecap. He fell backward like a sack of vegetables. " Good luck with Alex. She's generally a sore loser." He pulled the door closed. No reason to lock it, since fat man wasn't going to be going anywhere anytime soon.

With the files on him, his mission was complete. Roland had heard the general calls of exodus outside, so he took his new face and exited among the other unknowns.

Apparently, loud, powerful noises were enough to make her snap out of the unconsciousness she had slipped into. Alexandra opened her eyes or, at least, she tried to. Her vision was hazy and a headache made her feel like someone had hit her head with an Axe. She couldn't decide what was worse - the headache or the shoulder. Or perhaps the fact that someone was now screaming at her side for what it seemed like eternity. Alexandra grunted, unhappy with all the sounds. And then -

"Good luck with Alex. She's generally a sore loser."

Roland. Alexandra blinked again. Trough the mist that covered her eyes, she saw the dark silhouette of the man moving away. And she had a bad feeling about it. Too late to do anything as moments later the sound of the door closing hit her ears like a cannon ball. And then, the events prior to her fall dawned upon her. The sobbing and whining on the background started to be registered once again and they made her crawl on the walls as they were only intensifying the headache. She blinked again, her vision clearing progressively with every blink. Deep breaths brought the so much needed air into her lungs and focus into her mind. "SHUT UP!" She snapped at the man producing the sounds, turning her head to the side. Details made their way into her mind and the face became familiar. Rage too, became familiar.

Out of fear or out of self-preservation instincts, the man stopped, biting hard into his lip. From the shock that was written on his face, along with the pain, Alexandra assumed he wasn't expecting her to wake up so soon. Instincts probably told him that the best was to get away from the now seriously pissed off mutant. His instincts were good for the very first thought that crossed Alexandra's mind was that she would kill this man even if it was the last thing she ever did.

The carpeted floor was way nicer and much more comfortable than standing up but she had lost enough time. And, she had a feeling that some damage was produced during her time out. Her hands moved first, registering the blade held tight in her hand. Something was missing. The flash drive. She wanted to scream. Badly. Supporting herself on her good hand and shoulder, she pushed her upper body up, her eyes searching for the flash drive around her. When she realized it wasn't anywhere, her attention and her anger was fully concentrated on the director that tried to inch away, leaving a bloody trail on the carpet. Roland's skills were something she appreciated. His persona however... that was completely another story.

"The flash drive. Where is it?" It wasn't a question. It was a demand. One that the man ignored. Small brown eyes looked at the molecule manipulator nervously as he continued to inch away. Fine. Apparently, he needed to be reminded that she was the superior in this situation. "If you move again, I swear I will chop your limbs and feed them to you." And she wasn't kidding. Her voice said so. Her face said so. The dark look in her eyes said so. And the words had the desired effect. The man stopped. And he started to talk. "Please! I want to live! I wan to -"

It wasn't what she wanted to hear. She gestured him to be quiet. And he obeyed. Alexandra pushed herself up into a standing position. Slowly, for she didn't want to pass out again. Resting a hand on the desk, she looked down at the man. "Flash drive. Where is it?" That was the primary concern. Everything else, later. "He-he-he-he took it." He? Roland? Now she really, really, really wanted to scream. Her lips turned into straight line. She.hated.Roland. More than anything. How was it that this man always messed up with her life? She exhaled slowly. Going after him was a wild goose chase. By now, Roland probably sipped Martini somewhere far away from the camps. "Did he do anything else?" Always safe to ask. And she wasn't surprised when she got the answer. "He-he took the video surveillance files too." Great.

She needed to stop and think. She had absolutely no idea what Roland would need the files for. On the other side, she had a perfectly good idea about herself : she needed those files. For her own plans and for knowing what exactly Roland put his hands on. "I asked you to delete the files. Did you complete the task?" The man was quick in shaking his head to signal a 'no'. "I canceled when he asked me to copy the video surveillance. Only a part was deleted." Semi-good news. "Don't even dare to blink." Alexandra threatened as she moved herself behind the computer and proceeded to copy the files once again. This time, the video surveillance as well. Again, she needed to know what Roland had in his possession.

As soon as the progress bar appeared, she looked back at the man. At least he was quiet and obedient now. "What's in those files?" The man opened his mouth then closed it. Alexandra growled. Did he really want to make his death painful? "Do you think keeping the secret will help you with anything? Or bring you anything else but pain?"

Alexandra was happy survival instincts existed. Money and power apparently were nothing when confronted with losing your life. "Everything. From all the information we've managed to gather about prisoners to contacts and..." He paused unsure if to tell or not. Alexandra was becoming impatient. She was hurt, tired, mad and really in the mood to kill. She wondered what part of her suggested that she appreciated any sort of pause. "And?" The man swallowed. "And the fact that your father was involved with everything going on here... That you are involved." That didn't sound good. Her voice was a growl at this point. "And by that you mean..." The man blinked nervously a few times. "Everything that happened in the camps is your father's project. The camps are funded automatically by your father's bank accounts. And the money for every mutant that was sold during the first and this registration act and in-between go in those bank accounts as well. Your father was smart. He controlled absolutely everything and he made sure that if he went down, everyone goes down with him... When your father died... everything that was his was transferred to you. We kept those accounts hidden from you in hopes that we can somehow break them. We underestimated your father. He made sure you will be the only one accessing them."

At this point, Alexandra needed to pick up her jaw from the floor. The bottom line: if files got into the wrong hands - she would be blamed for everything. And the files were in Roland's capable hands. She could very well stab herself now.

The screen blinked interrupting her thoughts. Transfer was finished. Alexandra removed the flash drive then commanded the computer to delete every file on its hard disk. She moved from behind the desk and walked to the man. "Anything else I need to know? Like who else has this information besides 'he-he-he'?" Again, the man shook his head. "No one else. This computer was the only one that stored it." Alexandra tilted her head. Then pushed her foot on one of the man's knee. A scream. A headache intensifier scream. She removed her foot. "Are you sure about that?" The foot was pressed back on the knee, harder than before.

Another scream. Tears. Pleading eyes. "I swear I told you the truth! Please! It hurts!" Alexandra removed her foot with a sigh. The headache was unbearable. She frowned at the man as he panted and hold his leg with both hands. "Very good then. You've served your purpose." Was that shock in his eyes? She certainly hoped so. What - he really thought he would walk out alive out of it? Alexandra's image was the last image he saw before the blade moved away from her hand and went trough his skull, etching itself right between his widened eyes. He fell to the ground, eyes still widened. Alexandra summoned the molecules back to her. She didn't need the blade anymore so instead the molecules were scattered all across the room. No murder weapon. No fingerprints.

As the man no longer presented any interest, Alexandra shifted her attention toward the computer. The screen blinked, announcing proudly that the deletion has been completed. The next moment, the central unit was descending toward the ground. The plastic shattered, bringing into view the delicate components inside. Pushing the plastic remains away, Alexandra stepped on them. The mother board, the hard disk, everything was turned into smaller pieces. Kneeling next to it, Alexandra concentrated her powers on the delicate metal in every component as she scattered it around the room. Every part of the computer needed to be rendered irreparable. No one else needed to know what she had learned earlier. Roland will be dealt with later, of course.

But now, that everything she needed to do was done, she remembered that the X-Men were still waiting for her to get back. Pocketing the flash drive, Alexandra simply walked out of the room.