Wisdom was bent over his laptop, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his eyes half-closed when Ruth knocked on his door. He was still going over projections Shy had tossed at him after plying him with obscene amounts of sweets. Storm and Wild Child were still missing. Two huge unsolved mysteries, one of which had recently thickened considerably after Wolverine informed him of what he had smelled on the dead girl's clawed corpse. He had told no one, as if following a page in Ruth's book, that it had been Gibs who had most likely killed Hemlock. The coroner's report was so far inconclusive, but Pete trusted Logan's nose when he was told he only smelled one attacker, and that the damage Wild Child had caused was extensive and almost surely the cause of death.
It was hard for Pete to imagine this, even though he had seen Wild Child in action, having trained with him and been on a few ops with him. But he had also seen the childlike innocence in his demeanor, the way he had behaved towards Pete himself and the way he'd played with Buster. Walking the dog had become a team effort, and Gibs had played with Buster in such a way that Pete couldn't help feeling like he had two puppies in his care. There had to be a reason for Gibs to have gone bad like this. Pete wanted there to be, because otherwise the Wild Child had become a mad dog that needed to be put down. However, he only had to think back to Logan's return to the Haven as a brainwashed killer that had to almost be destroyed before they could get through to him. Early studies showed that ferals were harder to control telepathically, that they were the equivalent of a psychic dead zone in most cases. However, experience and mounting research showed they were also easier to reduce to their base feral nature and turned into living weapons with a thirst for blood. If that was the case, then Gibs needed their help instead of a bullet to the brain, or however you killed someone with a healing factor.
Of Storm there had been no sign. No leads at all. For all the refuge he had found in Madrox's arms, a deep gnawing guilt ate at Pete for his inability to find Ororo. He was still somewhat crippled by the knowledge that his bad intel had gotten her caught, because no one could ever punish Wisdom more viciously than he punished himself. In fact, this laptop he was using was new, his previous one destroyed by his own hand in a terrible fit of rage and frustration the very night after Excalibur and the X-men had their twin botched operations.
The knock hadn't been Jamie's. He was about to yell at whoever was there to bugger off when he heard Ruth's voice. He must have broken a record time in getting to the door and yanking it open. "What the fuck's in Canada?" he blurted out, looking over and around the woman to see if anybody was listening. "Come on in. I'm dressed," he added, ushering Ruth inside. He still wore the rumpled suit and tie he had been wearing all day, having lost track of time while working, making calls and following leads.