[NOW: Weapon X Labs...]
"Moses?"
Sergeant Magnum turned and a smile appeared on his face. "Jug-Head," he replied, sticking his hand out.
"What are you doing here, you dirty bastard? Last time I saw you, you were getting chewed out by Sergeant Duffy!"
"Yeah, well, last time I saw you, you were getting hauled to the brig with Duffy's bloody nose all over your shirt." Magnum snorted. "What have you been up to since discharge?"
"I'm one of the operatives here. Or will be, once my they get their act together. I saw you guys arriving. You here to get this program squared away?"
"Roger that," Magnum nodded. "Colonel Stryker is the C.O. here, we're just on security detail. Looks like you may soon be back in Uncle Sam's warm, loving embrace, son."
"As if they'd take a reprobate like me back."
"Haven't you noticed that the last half-dozen or so of you lab-rats are all former boots? This has been coming for some time."
"Hmm, never thought about it. Look, I gotta jet, but we'll catch up, okay? Re-hash out the good old Lehigh Days."
"Copy that, Jugs. See you soon."
Cain Marko turned and walked away, his smile disappearing. This was a less than ideal development. He got out of the military for a reason, and there was no way in Hell he was going back. "Shouldn't be a problem," he thought to himself, "Once they give me powers, I'll just leave." Nothing stopped him when he set his mind on something. That's why his former squad-mates called him the Juggernaut.
"Moses?"
Sergeant Magnum turned and a smile appeared on his face. "Jug-Head," he replied, sticking his hand out.
"What are you doing here, you dirty bastard? Last time I saw you, you were getting chewed out by Sergeant Duffy!"
"Yeah, well, last time I saw you, you were getting hauled to the brig with Duffy's bloody nose all over your shirt." Magnum snorted. "What have you been up to since discharge?"
"I'm one of the operatives here. Or will be, once my they get their act together. I saw you guys arriving. You here to get this program squared away?"
"Roger that," Magnum nodded. "Colonel Stryker is the C.O. here, we're just on security detail. Looks like you may soon be back in Uncle Sam's warm, loving embrace, son."
"As if they'd take a reprobate like me back."
"Haven't you noticed that the last half-dozen or so of you lab-rats are all former boots? This has been coming for some time."
"Hmm, never thought about it. Look, I gotta jet, but we'll catch up, okay? Re-hash out the good old Lehigh Days."
"Copy that, Jugs. See you soon."
Cain Marko turned and walked away, his smile disappearing. This was a less than ideal development. He got out of the military for a reason, and there was no way in Hell he was going back. "Shouldn't be a problem," he thought to himself, "Once they give me powers, I'll just leave." Nothing stopped him when he set his mind on something. That's why his former squad-mates called him the Juggernaut.
“EXODUS”
[SIXTEEN YEARS AGO: Racak, Kosovo...]
"Greycrow," Drevnak said, "I am in position."
"Copy that, Drevnak," Greycrow acknowledged. "Do not engage."
"Aw, shucks," he came back, "you never let me have any fun, boss."
"You'll have your fun soon enough. Wait for my word."
"This is boring," Sung complained. "When do we eat?"
"Anybody else having comm problems?" Drevnak asked sincerely. "I keep hearing this high-pitched whining."
"You suck cocks for breakfast!" Sung spit back in Korean.
"Just wondering why a whiny bitch who sounds like a dying cat is our communications officer, that's all," Drevnak said.
"Fuck you, dog!" Sung yelled back, this time in English.
"Both of you, belay that noise," Greycrow chimed in. "This isn't the Fuck-Around Gang! Drevnak, keep your eyes on that bridge, and Sung, you'll eat breakfast when I tell you too, or when my boot hits the roof of your mouth on it's trip through your ass, whichever comes first!"
"I have something," Drevnak interrupted. "North end of the village. Truckload of YuSec. Right on schedule, looking to avenge their fallen brethren."
"Isn't Drevnak a Yugoslavian name?" Sung asked.
"Czechoslovakian, Sung, there's a difference," he replied, "Do I ask you where to go for good sushi?"
"Enough," Greycrow said.
"Besides, I'm from South Bend, Indiana, Dumb-ass," Drevnak ignored him.
"I said enough!"
"Sir, yes sir," Drevnak replied. "They are definitely searching for someone, and not in a good mood. I can't believe Milosevic actually gave the order."
"He didn't, at least, not for what's about to happen. Are our people in position?" Greycrow asked.
"Looks like," Drevnak replied. "And there are twenty-five targets hiding in the large building at the center of the town."
"Then let's light the fire."
# # # # #
[NOW: Weapon X...]
"Where's the fire?" Bobby asked, hustling to keep up with Scott and Kitty.
"We're wheels up in twenty minutes, but we've got a few things to attend to in the meantime. Sean is in the hangar bay already, I want you two to help him prep the plane."
"Copy that," Kitty said, turning left into the wall and phasing through it.
Bobby looked back to where the young girl had disappeared and then back to Scott. "I mean, what's the problem? It's not like we've never missed a take-off window before."
"The rules have changed, Bobby. The military just took over operations, and the new head of Weapon X is a Colonel not known for being lax with security. Fred Duncan was on our side, for the most part, but Stryker will have you in a military barracks freeze-torturing prisoners before you can say 'Geneva Convention.' He's going to lock down the base in approximately thirty-one minutes, at which point you'll officially be the property of the United States Military. So what do you say, Champ? Wanna go for a ride?"
"I'll go help Sean prep the plane," Bobby said, his voice quiet and somber.
{Jean,} Scott sent, {What's your status? Jean?}
{She is in preparation,} Charles interrupted. {Preparation which, should you continue to shout, she will have to begin again, and we do not have that kind of time.}
{Preparation? What kind of- wait, why is Jean-}
{Have we contacted Logan?} Charles interrupted.
{He's on standby. You give the word, he's here. We may need him for a distraction.}
{I have a feeling that a distraction is already forth-coming. Be ready.}
# # # # #
[SIXTEEN YEARS AGO: Racak, Kosovo...]
"Baer," Greycrow said, "we're ready."
One of the soldiers getting out of the Yugoslavian Security forces vehicle shouldered his weapon and sighted the man that Drevnak had spotted, a man suspected of membership in the Kosovo Liberation Army. Two nearby men both seemed to realize what was about to happen, as their eyes grew wide and they dropped their cords of wood in the snow. As the first shots erupted through the still morning air, the entire village seemed to flinch as one. The suspected KLA member was now a confirmed casualty.
"We know you are harboring members of the Kosovo Liberation Army!" Baer shouted into the air in Albanian. "Bring them to us, and we may spare your lives!"
The curtains of a window on the second floor of a nearby building fluttered outward briefly, and the barrel of a rifle poked through. "Taking the shot," Drevnak said, sighting Baer.
"Don't miss," Baer whispered.
"I don't miss," Drevnak said, pulling the trigger. The bullet screamed out into the cold morning air and slammed into Baer's chest, driving through several layers of his assault vest before coming to a stop short of his skin. Baer screamed and lurched backwards, grasping his chest and crushing a hidden blood pack in his massive hand, creating a geyser of blood from what appeared to be a traumatic entry wound.
Questad stepped forward, pointing at the building's second floor. "They shot at us! Open fire!" He raised his rifle and fired a shot, splintering the frame of the window. He turned and grabbed Baer by the arm, dragging his massive frame behind the vehicle while the rest of the Yugoslavian Security Forces opened fire on the villagers.
Drevnak laughed like a maniac as he dove to the floor into the reinforced shell that would protect him from the barrage of gunfire. He heard a shot ricochet off the shell, and then the fusillade begin to die off. He sprung to his feet and hit the back window, clambering out onto the roof of the lower floor, hidden from the soldier's sight by the second story. He dove off, tumbling to the ground on impact, and scrambled beneath the edge of a tarp that lay across a woodpile, which was a carefully disguised entrance to an escape tunnel.
In the distance, he heard Questad cry out "There! In the main hall!" and another barrage of bullets flew. The dominoes had been set in motion. Scrambling feet first into the passage, he slid the heavy stone block back into place, sealing the entrance to his tunnel, and scampered backwards down the narrow throat or dirt. Perhaps when the village eventually gets torn down, they may discover this passage, but by the time that happens, they would be well complete with their mission. He exited the tunnel at the rendezvous, watching as the others arrived at the armored personnel carrier that served as their primary transport.
"Mission accomplished, we're out of here," Greycrow said, jumping into the transport's driver seat. "Have Sontag start the pre-flight on the Genghis."
"Nice shot," Baer said, stepping into the APC and putting a hand tarred with fake gore on Drevnak's shoulder.
"Agh, get that gunk off me, Baer!" Drevnak said, shrugging his shoulder violently away from the massive German man.
The lumbering vehicle roared to life as Sung took a seat next to the rear gate, laughing at his teammates. "You look like you just cleaned an outhouse!" Sung cackled.
Questad sat in the navigator's seat and looked at his commander. "Another day, another international incident," he smiled. "They'll be calling for Milosevic's head."
"That was the plan," Greycrow responded. Behind him, Sung and Drevnak were bickering again, and Baer and Questad sat in contented silence. But something was not sitting right with Greycrow's mind. It wasn't the mission, it couldn't be; they had perpetrated much greater atrocities in the name of destabilizing regimes. Maybe not the mission specifically, but could it be the trend the missions were creating?
"Trouble?" Questad said, sensing his commander's uneasiness.
"Just thinking about the mission."
"We didn't leave anything to chance," he responded. "Dotted the I's, crossed the T's."
"Not this mission specifically," Greycrow said. "What we're doing in general. My boy, Makah... next month he's old enough to enter the service. What we're doing is creating a lot more opportunities for people like him to get killed."
"John, you know keeping tabs on him is just asking for trouble. If the company finds out you've risked exposing that you're still alive, then-"
"No one will find out," Greycrow interrupted. "I'm good at what I do. But what happens if one of these little wars we start ends up getting him hurt, or worse? This isn't exactly what we signed up for."
"Weapon X owns our paperwork, Chief. What does Makah mean, anyway?"
"It's Sioux for 'earth.' My wife wanted him to embrace his ancestry and become one with the blah blah blah."
"But your wife is Polish," Questad reminded him.
"I didn't say her ancenstry," Greycrow said. "She makes more of a deal about me being Native American than I do. She chose his name from some book. I spent the first week of the kid's life calling him 'May-kuh' before she corrected me. I still pronounce it that way when I want to piss her off." He looked back into the APC's interior and saw everybody seated. "Everybody in? Alright, let's get underway."
# # # # #
[NOW: Weapon X...]
"Let's get underway," Stryker said, staring ahead at the screen as the room went dark. The smart board before him illuminated with the Weapon X logo, and he glanced over at Kavita. "Proceed, Dr. Rao."
"Colonel, I'm not sure why there is such urgency in this briefing. Our records are extensive, but we still have months before the next trials are ready to replace the subjects who left-"
"Defected," Stryker corrected. "No one seems to be able to grasp that yet. It has been decided that all remaining subjects will undergo the treatment simultaneously by the end of this week."
"Simultaneous?" Kavita stammered. "Each one of these procedures is a delicate balance of-"
"I'll tell you what's delicate, Doctor," Stryker interjected, "the operational status of this facility. Dukes, Allerdyce, Darkholme, and Madrox- or at least, one of him- defected, Sidney was rendered useless, agents in deep cover who haven't checked in with us in months... This circus has too many clowns, and not enough lion tamers." He was silent for a long moment, staring at her with venom in his eyes. "Proceed."
Kavita shook her head, but clicked on the computer and called up the first file.
"Cain Marko, age 32, U.S. Army, dishonorably discharged for gross insubordination. Known living family: Step-brother, Charles Xavier." Stryker looked from the screen to Kavita, and then smiled with new-found comprehension. "Cain is a textbook narcissist," Kavita narrated, "with anger management issues and violent tendencies. He is, however, very protective of his step-brother, who suffered abuse at the hands of his step-father, Cain's biological father, after their mother died."
"Why, Charles," he said aloud, "you didn't tell me this was a family affair."
"Then I'm sure you'll find the other subject to be quite fascinating. He's a legacy volunteer, as it were. His father was a subject of Weapon X. He was with the U.S. Army in Iraq. Lost an arm and a leg to an I.E.D. Aptitude in computer sciences, linguistics, and engineering. His name," Kavita said, "Is Makah Greycrow."
# # # # #
[SIXTEEN YEARS AGO: Albanian Airspace...]
"Greycrow! This wasn't part of the deal!" Tricia screamed as Greycrow entered the cargo bay of the Genghis as it streaked over Albania. "You murdered innocent civilians!"
"Grow up, MacNaughton!" Greycrow yelled back, hanging up his tactical harness. "We are the Marauders, and killing is what we were made to do! You knew exactly what you were getting into when you signed up on that dotted line. The minute Weapon X got Leftwich and his Cytorite, we became obsolete to them. It was join this unit or be relegated to a lab for the rest of your short life while they cut you apart to find out why their first attempts failed!"
"I can't be a part of this anymore," Tricia said. "Once we land, I'm leaving."
"The Hell you are," Creed sneered, stepping up to her. His right hand was seated on the handle of his knife in its scabbard.
"No," Noatak said. "Back up, Creed."
"I don't need you to fight my battles, Kodiak," Tricia said. "I'm not afraid of Victor."
"I know that," Noatak answered. "But threatening a fellow Marauder goes too far."
"I'll gut you just as quick, Nanook."
"Stand down," Greycrow said, "all of you. Get in your seats and buckle up. I don't anticipate any resistance, but until we're in neutral airspace, I want everyone on alert. I want you to think about this, Tricia. You know Duncan has us by the balls; if you try to walk away, he'll send us after you. You run, he'll make us follow you, and he'll make us put you down. We're too valuable to him to let go. Even if we let you walk away, how far do you think you'll get?"
Tricia was silent.
"So long as we continue our work for Weapon X, we're valuable. It's why we're still alive."
At that moment, the outboard starboard engine exploded.
"Sontag! Report!" Greycrow screamed.
"Missile!" she screamed form the cockpit. "Air to air, unknown source, probably radar invisible!"
"Kosovo doesn't have anything that could sneak up on us," Questad said. "And they wouldn't have been able to get it airborne so fast!"
"No, I know exactly what this is. Looks like I was wrong, Tricia. We're not as valuable to Duncan as I estimated. We've served out purpose and now we're being retired." He turned back toward the cockpit. "Sontag! Get us over the Adriatic!"
"I don't really have much of a plane left to fly!"
"Do what you can!" he yelled. "Everybody else, listen up! Fred Duncan may think he just put us down. In truth, he just gave us our pink slips! As of this moment, we're free agents! And our first mission now is survival!"
He looked out at the shattered wing and his eyes narrowed, his thoughts going to his son. "I will see you again, in this life or the next, Makah."
# # # # #
[NOW: Weapon X...]
"Makah?" Dr. Rao said, "Welcome to the lab."
Makah Greycrow nodded, smiling. "Thank you, Doctor." A soldier stood next to the doorway. Another volunteer stood across the room, looking at a containment unit in the wall of the lab. Makah strode in, the flexible blade that served as his lower leg making the same soft metallic clank that had accompanied him every day since his accident. He ticked off a salute with his artificial hand, the muted hum of the servo motors barely audible. The other volunteer did likewise.
"I thank you both for coming," Kavita said. "We just wanted to tell you that the timetable for your treatment has been accelerated. They are anticipating beginning your treatment by the end of this week." Kavita smiled an uncomfortable smile. "I know things seem to be happening fast."
"Doctor Rao," Makah said, "You have no idea."
"I beg your pardon?" Kavita said, her smile disappearing quickly.
Makah began to chant.
Kavita's facial expressions went through a gamut of feelings in just a few seconds; confusion, which melted away to comprehension, which then gave way to pure naked fear.
"He's one of them!" she yelled, and turned to run just as the first wisps of mystical energy began to coalesce in the air around Makah's outstretched hands.
"Freeze!" Magnum yelled, drawing his side arm and pointing it Makah.
"Father!" Makah screamed, "I have avenged you!" The room was filled with a blinding white light, and all sound was drowned out by a roaring like a thousand waves hitting a beach simultaneously.
# # # # #
[SIXTEEN YEARS AGO: Above The Adriatic Sea...]
"Ghost Town, this is Ghost Six. I have wreckage, bogey down."
"Copy Ghost Six," the voice on the other end of the comms replied. "Do you see the fuselage?"
"Negative," Ghost Six replied, "Target exploded on impact, still too much fire and smoke for a visual. Wreckage trail over a mile long, made it right out into the sea."
"Copy Ghost Six. Return to base. Hounds are en route."
The roar of Ghost Six's engines were barely audible in the charred wreckage of the APC. The steady hiss of sizzling electronics, the hazy smoke of circuits shorting. There were little signs of life at first, but one by one, the survivors stirred.
"Report," Greycrow croaked out. "Claremont, report."
"Noatak's hurt bad," Claremont said, her green hair streaked red with blood. "Sung is unconscious, but I feel a pulse, so he's alive. MacNaughton has facial lacerations and it looks like her right eye might be done for. Sontag's wounded. Arm mangled. I don't know if she's going to make it."
"Okay, Marauders, listen up. They'll be sending ground forces to investigate the wreckage. We've got to get out of here and torch the APC. If we do that, we might just convince them that our bodies are out to sea. Otherwise, I guarantee you we're dead. If you want to live to see another sunrise, grab the wounded and hightail it, now!"
# # # # #
[NOW: Weapon X...]
"Was that an explosion?" Kitty asked.
"I guess that's our distraction," Hank said. "Everybody aboard, I'll be in avionics getting the transponder."
Scott stepped into the cockpit and then stopped and looked around. "Wait, where's Charles?"
"He's still in the command center," Jean said.
"We've got to get him," Scott said, striding towards the back of the jet.
{I'm not going, Scott,} Charles finally broadcast. {I'm too deeply entrenched in the system. It would be impossible for me to erase everything I'd need to, and they'll come after me. There has been an explosion in the lab, and I have to make sure that everyone is okay. But Stryker will lock the base down in less than a minute. Go.}
{No. Charles,} Scott responded. {I can't accept that.}
{We have no other choice,} Charles countered as he brought up a program that had been hidden in the mainframe years ago. {We only have seconds left, and we can't waste any of them arguing a point that you know I'm right about.}
{We can find a way-}
{No, Scott.}
In the command room, Stryker and the others were standing, trying to ascertain the source of the loud crash they had just heard. In the chaos, Charles spoke one word softly into his terminal's microphone. "Exodus." Instantly, the system began deleting personnel files, altering mission debriefings, and manipulating data.
Stryker's terminal flashed a red warning message: INCURSION! He leaned forward, looking at the list that was popping up in front of him. "Lock down the computer systems!"
Elsewhere in the room, one of the techs began to type frantically on his keyboard, but the program, once activated, completed its work within seconds.
{I know what I'm doing,} Charles sent, his voice soothing them psychically. {This is the only way.}
Charles joined his mind with Jean and guided her as she quickly reached out and touched every mind in the complex. Only those he selected for the Exodus were not included in the loop.
{Charles,} Scott sent back, {listen to me. Don't do this.}
{Goodbye, son.}
{No, Charles! Jean, don't!}
{FORGET,} Jean commanded, and any memories of them vanished from the minds of everyone else in the complex.
"Damn it!' Scott cried out, punching the ceiling of the jet. He stood for a brief moment, looking at Jean, who could only look back at him with incomparable sadness in her eyes.
"Scott," Kitty said, her voice wavering, "we have to go."
"Sean, get us out of here," he said finally. Sean accelerated the craft through the hangar door, which snapped shut mere seconds later. Scott stood, his hand on the ceiling of the transport, his face barely concealing the anger he was feeling. Finally, he looked up, and keyed the comm system. "Hank, get up here."
"They've sent up an intercept," Sean announced, checking the aircraft's radar.
"Everybody to the stealth pod," Scott commanded. "Hank, do you copy?"
As Kitty followed Jean and Bobby into the pod, a shrill screech filled the air. "We have a signal lock!" Sean yelled. "No time! Get in there!" he tackled Scott into the cramped pod and then reached up and hit the launch button on the pod’s interior. Their stomachs lurched as they suddenly were ejected from the jet itself a split second before it exploded in mid-air.
"Hank!" Scott screamed as they tumbled earthward, fiery wreckage raining down around them.
# # # # #
[SIXTEEN YEARS AGO: An Abandoned Factory in Bar, Montenegro...]
"Greycrow," Creed said quietly. "MacNaughton is gone."
"Dead?" he asked.
"No. Snuck off in the dark. She ain't coming back, at least not on her own. You want me to go after her?"
Greycrow was silent for a long time. "No. Let her go. We'll deal with her when the time is right. What about the others?"
"Still too early to tell. Claremont had to take off Sontag's right arm at the elbow, she's still not out of the woods. She needs an advanced facility. Noatak is hurting, still can't tell for sure what's wrong. Bad news about Sung. He made it."
Greycrow actually found himself smiling. "We made it, Victor. The Marauders went through Hell and made it out the other side. We'll need a new location to hole up for a while, get treatment for our wounded. Contact our advance man."
# # # # #
[NOW: Weapon X...]
Kavita shook her head, trying to clear out the cobwebs. She did not know how long she had been unconscious. She turned towards the center of the lab, which seemed to be vibrating, and her breath hitched within her chest.
Makah was kneeling in the center of the room, hunched over, his back smoking.
"Kavita?" Charles said, stepping into the lab with some soldiers in his wake. "Are you okay?"
"Don't shoot!" Magnum screamed at the soldiers who were pointing their weapons squarely at Makah. The shaking stopped. Suddenly, there was a sharp cracking sound and a part of the ceiling showered dust down on them. He looked up at the ceiling. "This facility has been structurally compromised. We need to get to safety."
As the last of the soldiers escorted them out, Marko looked back at the containment panel in the lab. Just behind the cracked panel was the key to everything. If he left it now, everything he had gone through for the past two years would have been for nothing. "Chuck, the Cytorite!" he yelled as more of the ceiling began to crumble.
Charles turned to him. "Cain, we have to get out of here! We don't have time to properly contain it!" He ducked as another crack sounded throughout the lab, and a tumbling support beam came crashing down.
"No way!" Marko screamed. "I'm not getting this close and being denied!" He picked up a fire extinguisher and slammed it into the fracture in the containment panel.
"Cain! No!" Charles screamed, reaching out.
"Charles! We have to get out of here!" Kavita yelled.
Charles looked back just in time to see Marko clasp his hand over the glowing fragment and pull it free from its moorings. Then he was lost in a shower of debris as the lab collapsed.
# # # # #
[TEN YEARS AGO: Dallas...]
Makah Greycrow sat at his desk looking down at the hated letter. He had read it hundreds of times, but the content of it never changed, nor did the pain it brought. The letter was old, faded, dog-eared from repeated readings, but the pain was still clear. The paper was a soft shade of tan, which was supposed be more soothing than the stark white that most military missives went out written upon, but he was not soothed in the slightest.
The official story was that his father had died in battle, back when Makah was just a baby, but he knew differently. His father had actually died at the hands of the shadow organization known as Weapon X. He died after having been used and thrown away. His father had been killed by experiments that tried to turn him into some sort of super soldier, only to leave him powerless and no longer in control of his own life. Everything Makah had known about his father's death was a lie, but now the truth had been revealed.
"I will learn my lessons well, father," he said. "I will learn the ways of our people, and I will take my vengeance upon the bastards who took you from us, no matter how long it takes. They will pay, this I swear. Your little 'Maker' will show them the real power of the Greycrow name! I will learn to wield the magics that your ancestors used, they will be shaped into an ultimate weapon, and I will be the Forge!"
[To Be Continued!]
"Greycrow," Drevnak said, "I am in position."
"Copy that, Drevnak," Greycrow acknowledged. "Do not engage."
"Aw, shucks," he came back, "you never let me have any fun, boss."
"You'll have your fun soon enough. Wait for my word."
"This is boring," Sung complained. "When do we eat?"
"Anybody else having comm problems?" Drevnak asked sincerely. "I keep hearing this high-pitched whining."
"You suck cocks for breakfast!" Sung spit back in Korean.
"Just wondering why a whiny bitch who sounds like a dying cat is our communications officer, that's all," Drevnak said.
"Fuck you, dog!" Sung yelled back, this time in English.
"Both of you, belay that noise," Greycrow chimed in. "This isn't the Fuck-Around Gang! Drevnak, keep your eyes on that bridge, and Sung, you'll eat breakfast when I tell you too, or when my boot hits the roof of your mouth on it's trip through your ass, whichever comes first!"
"I have something," Drevnak interrupted. "North end of the village. Truckload of YuSec. Right on schedule, looking to avenge their fallen brethren."
"Isn't Drevnak a Yugoslavian name?" Sung asked.
"Czechoslovakian, Sung, there's a difference," he replied, "Do I ask you where to go for good sushi?"
"Enough," Greycrow said.
"Besides, I'm from South Bend, Indiana, Dumb-ass," Drevnak ignored him.
"I said enough!"
"Sir, yes sir," Drevnak replied. "They are definitely searching for someone, and not in a good mood. I can't believe Milosevic actually gave the order."
"He didn't, at least, not for what's about to happen. Are our people in position?" Greycrow asked.
"Looks like," Drevnak replied. "And there are twenty-five targets hiding in the large building at the center of the town."
"Then let's light the fire."
# # # # #
[NOW: Weapon X...]
"Where's the fire?" Bobby asked, hustling to keep up with Scott and Kitty.
"We're wheels up in twenty minutes, but we've got a few things to attend to in the meantime. Sean is in the hangar bay already, I want you two to help him prep the plane."
"Copy that," Kitty said, turning left into the wall and phasing through it.
Bobby looked back to where the young girl had disappeared and then back to Scott. "I mean, what's the problem? It's not like we've never missed a take-off window before."
"The rules have changed, Bobby. The military just took over operations, and the new head of Weapon X is a Colonel not known for being lax with security. Fred Duncan was on our side, for the most part, but Stryker will have you in a military barracks freeze-torturing prisoners before you can say 'Geneva Convention.' He's going to lock down the base in approximately thirty-one minutes, at which point you'll officially be the property of the United States Military. So what do you say, Champ? Wanna go for a ride?"
"I'll go help Sean prep the plane," Bobby said, his voice quiet and somber.
{Jean,} Scott sent, {What's your status? Jean?}
{She is in preparation,} Charles interrupted. {Preparation which, should you continue to shout, she will have to begin again, and we do not have that kind of time.}
{Preparation? What kind of- wait, why is Jean-}
{Have we contacted Logan?} Charles interrupted.
{He's on standby. You give the word, he's here. We may need him for a distraction.}
{I have a feeling that a distraction is already forth-coming. Be ready.}
# # # # #
[SIXTEEN YEARS AGO: Racak, Kosovo...]
"Baer," Greycrow said, "we're ready."
One of the soldiers getting out of the Yugoslavian Security forces vehicle shouldered his weapon and sighted the man that Drevnak had spotted, a man suspected of membership in the Kosovo Liberation Army. Two nearby men both seemed to realize what was about to happen, as their eyes grew wide and they dropped their cords of wood in the snow. As the first shots erupted through the still morning air, the entire village seemed to flinch as one. The suspected KLA member was now a confirmed casualty.
"We know you are harboring members of the Kosovo Liberation Army!" Baer shouted into the air in Albanian. "Bring them to us, and we may spare your lives!"
The curtains of a window on the second floor of a nearby building fluttered outward briefly, and the barrel of a rifle poked through. "Taking the shot," Drevnak said, sighting Baer.
"Don't miss," Baer whispered.
"I don't miss," Drevnak said, pulling the trigger. The bullet screamed out into the cold morning air and slammed into Baer's chest, driving through several layers of his assault vest before coming to a stop short of his skin. Baer screamed and lurched backwards, grasping his chest and crushing a hidden blood pack in his massive hand, creating a geyser of blood from what appeared to be a traumatic entry wound.
Questad stepped forward, pointing at the building's second floor. "They shot at us! Open fire!" He raised his rifle and fired a shot, splintering the frame of the window. He turned and grabbed Baer by the arm, dragging his massive frame behind the vehicle while the rest of the Yugoslavian Security Forces opened fire on the villagers.
Drevnak laughed like a maniac as he dove to the floor into the reinforced shell that would protect him from the barrage of gunfire. He heard a shot ricochet off the shell, and then the fusillade begin to die off. He sprung to his feet and hit the back window, clambering out onto the roof of the lower floor, hidden from the soldier's sight by the second story. He dove off, tumbling to the ground on impact, and scrambled beneath the edge of a tarp that lay across a woodpile, which was a carefully disguised entrance to an escape tunnel.
In the distance, he heard Questad cry out "There! In the main hall!" and another barrage of bullets flew. The dominoes had been set in motion. Scrambling feet first into the passage, he slid the heavy stone block back into place, sealing the entrance to his tunnel, and scampered backwards down the narrow throat or dirt. Perhaps when the village eventually gets torn down, they may discover this passage, but by the time that happens, they would be well complete with their mission. He exited the tunnel at the rendezvous, watching as the others arrived at the armored personnel carrier that served as their primary transport.
"Mission accomplished, we're out of here," Greycrow said, jumping into the transport's driver seat. "Have Sontag start the pre-flight on the Genghis."
"Nice shot," Baer said, stepping into the APC and putting a hand tarred with fake gore on Drevnak's shoulder.
"Agh, get that gunk off me, Baer!" Drevnak said, shrugging his shoulder violently away from the massive German man.
The lumbering vehicle roared to life as Sung took a seat next to the rear gate, laughing at his teammates. "You look like you just cleaned an outhouse!" Sung cackled.
Questad sat in the navigator's seat and looked at his commander. "Another day, another international incident," he smiled. "They'll be calling for Milosevic's head."
"That was the plan," Greycrow responded. Behind him, Sung and Drevnak were bickering again, and Baer and Questad sat in contented silence. But something was not sitting right with Greycrow's mind. It wasn't the mission, it couldn't be; they had perpetrated much greater atrocities in the name of destabilizing regimes. Maybe not the mission specifically, but could it be the trend the missions were creating?
"Trouble?" Questad said, sensing his commander's uneasiness.
"Just thinking about the mission."
"We didn't leave anything to chance," he responded. "Dotted the I's, crossed the T's."
"Not this mission specifically," Greycrow said. "What we're doing in general. My boy, Makah... next month he's old enough to enter the service. What we're doing is creating a lot more opportunities for people like him to get killed."
"John, you know keeping tabs on him is just asking for trouble. If the company finds out you've risked exposing that you're still alive, then-"
"No one will find out," Greycrow interrupted. "I'm good at what I do. But what happens if one of these little wars we start ends up getting him hurt, or worse? This isn't exactly what we signed up for."
"Weapon X owns our paperwork, Chief. What does Makah mean, anyway?"
"It's Sioux for 'earth.' My wife wanted him to embrace his ancestry and become one with the blah blah blah."
"But your wife is Polish," Questad reminded him.
"I didn't say her ancenstry," Greycrow said. "She makes more of a deal about me being Native American than I do. She chose his name from some book. I spent the first week of the kid's life calling him 'May-kuh' before she corrected me. I still pronounce it that way when I want to piss her off." He looked back into the APC's interior and saw everybody seated. "Everybody in? Alright, let's get underway."
# # # # #
[NOW: Weapon X...]
"Let's get underway," Stryker said, staring ahead at the screen as the room went dark. The smart board before him illuminated with the Weapon X logo, and he glanced over at Kavita. "Proceed, Dr. Rao."
"Colonel, I'm not sure why there is such urgency in this briefing. Our records are extensive, but we still have months before the next trials are ready to replace the subjects who left-"
"Defected," Stryker corrected. "No one seems to be able to grasp that yet. It has been decided that all remaining subjects will undergo the treatment simultaneously by the end of this week."
"Simultaneous?" Kavita stammered. "Each one of these procedures is a delicate balance of-"
"I'll tell you what's delicate, Doctor," Stryker interjected, "the operational status of this facility. Dukes, Allerdyce, Darkholme, and Madrox- or at least, one of him- defected, Sidney was rendered useless, agents in deep cover who haven't checked in with us in months... This circus has too many clowns, and not enough lion tamers." He was silent for a long moment, staring at her with venom in his eyes. "Proceed."
Kavita shook her head, but clicked on the computer and called up the first file.
"Cain Marko, age 32, U.S. Army, dishonorably discharged for gross insubordination. Known living family: Step-brother, Charles Xavier." Stryker looked from the screen to Kavita, and then smiled with new-found comprehension. "Cain is a textbook narcissist," Kavita narrated, "with anger management issues and violent tendencies. He is, however, very protective of his step-brother, who suffered abuse at the hands of his step-father, Cain's biological father, after their mother died."
"Why, Charles," he said aloud, "you didn't tell me this was a family affair."
"Then I'm sure you'll find the other subject to be quite fascinating. He's a legacy volunteer, as it were. His father was a subject of Weapon X. He was with the U.S. Army in Iraq. Lost an arm and a leg to an I.E.D. Aptitude in computer sciences, linguistics, and engineering. His name," Kavita said, "Is Makah Greycrow."
# # # # #
[SIXTEEN YEARS AGO: Albanian Airspace...]
"Greycrow! This wasn't part of the deal!" Tricia screamed as Greycrow entered the cargo bay of the Genghis as it streaked over Albania. "You murdered innocent civilians!"
"Grow up, MacNaughton!" Greycrow yelled back, hanging up his tactical harness. "We are the Marauders, and killing is what we were made to do! You knew exactly what you were getting into when you signed up on that dotted line. The minute Weapon X got Leftwich and his Cytorite, we became obsolete to them. It was join this unit or be relegated to a lab for the rest of your short life while they cut you apart to find out why their first attempts failed!"
"I can't be a part of this anymore," Tricia said. "Once we land, I'm leaving."
"The Hell you are," Creed sneered, stepping up to her. His right hand was seated on the handle of his knife in its scabbard.
"No," Noatak said. "Back up, Creed."
"I don't need you to fight my battles, Kodiak," Tricia said. "I'm not afraid of Victor."
"I know that," Noatak answered. "But threatening a fellow Marauder goes too far."
"I'll gut you just as quick, Nanook."
"Stand down," Greycrow said, "all of you. Get in your seats and buckle up. I don't anticipate any resistance, but until we're in neutral airspace, I want everyone on alert. I want you to think about this, Tricia. You know Duncan has us by the balls; if you try to walk away, he'll send us after you. You run, he'll make us follow you, and he'll make us put you down. We're too valuable to him to let go. Even if we let you walk away, how far do you think you'll get?"
Tricia was silent.
"So long as we continue our work for Weapon X, we're valuable. It's why we're still alive."
At that moment, the outboard starboard engine exploded.
"Sontag! Report!" Greycrow screamed.
"Missile!" she screamed form the cockpit. "Air to air, unknown source, probably radar invisible!"
"Kosovo doesn't have anything that could sneak up on us," Questad said. "And they wouldn't have been able to get it airborne so fast!"
"No, I know exactly what this is. Looks like I was wrong, Tricia. We're not as valuable to Duncan as I estimated. We've served out purpose and now we're being retired." He turned back toward the cockpit. "Sontag! Get us over the Adriatic!"
"I don't really have much of a plane left to fly!"
"Do what you can!" he yelled. "Everybody else, listen up! Fred Duncan may think he just put us down. In truth, he just gave us our pink slips! As of this moment, we're free agents! And our first mission now is survival!"
He looked out at the shattered wing and his eyes narrowed, his thoughts going to his son. "I will see you again, in this life or the next, Makah."
# # # # #
[NOW: Weapon X...]
"Makah?" Dr. Rao said, "Welcome to the lab."
Makah Greycrow nodded, smiling. "Thank you, Doctor." A soldier stood next to the doorway. Another volunteer stood across the room, looking at a containment unit in the wall of the lab. Makah strode in, the flexible blade that served as his lower leg making the same soft metallic clank that had accompanied him every day since his accident. He ticked off a salute with his artificial hand, the muted hum of the servo motors barely audible. The other volunteer did likewise.
"I thank you both for coming," Kavita said. "We just wanted to tell you that the timetable for your treatment has been accelerated. They are anticipating beginning your treatment by the end of this week." Kavita smiled an uncomfortable smile. "I know things seem to be happening fast."
"Doctor Rao," Makah said, "You have no idea."
"I beg your pardon?" Kavita said, her smile disappearing quickly.
Makah began to chant.
Kavita's facial expressions went through a gamut of feelings in just a few seconds; confusion, which melted away to comprehension, which then gave way to pure naked fear.
"He's one of them!" she yelled, and turned to run just as the first wisps of mystical energy began to coalesce in the air around Makah's outstretched hands.
"Freeze!" Magnum yelled, drawing his side arm and pointing it Makah.
"Father!" Makah screamed, "I have avenged you!" The room was filled with a blinding white light, and all sound was drowned out by a roaring like a thousand waves hitting a beach simultaneously.
# # # # #
[SIXTEEN YEARS AGO: Above The Adriatic Sea...]
"Ghost Town, this is Ghost Six. I have wreckage, bogey down."
"Copy Ghost Six," the voice on the other end of the comms replied. "Do you see the fuselage?"
"Negative," Ghost Six replied, "Target exploded on impact, still too much fire and smoke for a visual. Wreckage trail over a mile long, made it right out into the sea."
"Copy Ghost Six. Return to base. Hounds are en route."
The roar of Ghost Six's engines were barely audible in the charred wreckage of the APC. The steady hiss of sizzling electronics, the hazy smoke of circuits shorting. There were little signs of life at first, but one by one, the survivors stirred.
"Report," Greycrow croaked out. "Claremont, report."
"Noatak's hurt bad," Claremont said, her green hair streaked red with blood. "Sung is unconscious, but I feel a pulse, so he's alive. MacNaughton has facial lacerations and it looks like her right eye might be done for. Sontag's wounded. Arm mangled. I don't know if she's going to make it."
"Okay, Marauders, listen up. They'll be sending ground forces to investigate the wreckage. We've got to get out of here and torch the APC. If we do that, we might just convince them that our bodies are out to sea. Otherwise, I guarantee you we're dead. If you want to live to see another sunrise, grab the wounded and hightail it, now!"
# # # # #
[NOW: Weapon X...]
"Was that an explosion?" Kitty asked.
"I guess that's our distraction," Hank said. "Everybody aboard, I'll be in avionics getting the transponder."
Scott stepped into the cockpit and then stopped and looked around. "Wait, where's Charles?"
"He's still in the command center," Jean said.
"We've got to get him," Scott said, striding towards the back of the jet.
{I'm not going, Scott,} Charles finally broadcast. {I'm too deeply entrenched in the system. It would be impossible for me to erase everything I'd need to, and they'll come after me. There has been an explosion in the lab, and I have to make sure that everyone is okay. But Stryker will lock the base down in less than a minute. Go.}
{No. Charles,} Scott responded. {I can't accept that.}
{We have no other choice,} Charles countered as he brought up a program that had been hidden in the mainframe years ago. {We only have seconds left, and we can't waste any of them arguing a point that you know I'm right about.}
{We can find a way-}
{No, Scott.}
In the command room, Stryker and the others were standing, trying to ascertain the source of the loud crash they had just heard. In the chaos, Charles spoke one word softly into his terminal's microphone. "Exodus." Instantly, the system began deleting personnel files, altering mission debriefings, and manipulating data.
Stryker's terminal flashed a red warning message: INCURSION! He leaned forward, looking at the list that was popping up in front of him. "Lock down the computer systems!"
Elsewhere in the room, one of the techs began to type frantically on his keyboard, but the program, once activated, completed its work within seconds.
{I know what I'm doing,} Charles sent, his voice soothing them psychically. {This is the only way.}
Charles joined his mind with Jean and guided her as she quickly reached out and touched every mind in the complex. Only those he selected for the Exodus were not included in the loop.
{Charles,} Scott sent back, {listen to me. Don't do this.}
{Goodbye, son.}
{No, Charles! Jean, don't!}
{FORGET,} Jean commanded, and any memories of them vanished from the minds of everyone else in the complex.
"Damn it!' Scott cried out, punching the ceiling of the jet. He stood for a brief moment, looking at Jean, who could only look back at him with incomparable sadness in her eyes.
"Scott," Kitty said, her voice wavering, "we have to go."
"Sean, get us out of here," he said finally. Sean accelerated the craft through the hangar door, which snapped shut mere seconds later. Scott stood, his hand on the ceiling of the transport, his face barely concealing the anger he was feeling. Finally, he looked up, and keyed the comm system. "Hank, get up here."
"They've sent up an intercept," Sean announced, checking the aircraft's radar.
"Everybody to the stealth pod," Scott commanded. "Hank, do you copy?"
As Kitty followed Jean and Bobby into the pod, a shrill screech filled the air. "We have a signal lock!" Sean yelled. "No time! Get in there!" he tackled Scott into the cramped pod and then reached up and hit the launch button on the pod’s interior. Their stomachs lurched as they suddenly were ejected from the jet itself a split second before it exploded in mid-air.
"Hank!" Scott screamed as they tumbled earthward, fiery wreckage raining down around them.
# # # # #
[SIXTEEN YEARS AGO: An Abandoned Factory in Bar, Montenegro...]
"Greycrow," Creed said quietly. "MacNaughton is gone."
"Dead?" he asked.
"No. Snuck off in the dark. She ain't coming back, at least not on her own. You want me to go after her?"
Greycrow was silent for a long time. "No. Let her go. We'll deal with her when the time is right. What about the others?"
"Still too early to tell. Claremont had to take off Sontag's right arm at the elbow, she's still not out of the woods. She needs an advanced facility. Noatak is hurting, still can't tell for sure what's wrong. Bad news about Sung. He made it."
Greycrow actually found himself smiling. "We made it, Victor. The Marauders went through Hell and made it out the other side. We'll need a new location to hole up for a while, get treatment for our wounded. Contact our advance man."
# # # # #
[NOW: Weapon X...]
Kavita shook her head, trying to clear out the cobwebs. She did not know how long she had been unconscious. She turned towards the center of the lab, which seemed to be vibrating, and her breath hitched within her chest.
Makah was kneeling in the center of the room, hunched over, his back smoking.
"Kavita?" Charles said, stepping into the lab with some soldiers in his wake. "Are you okay?"
"Don't shoot!" Magnum screamed at the soldiers who were pointing their weapons squarely at Makah. The shaking stopped. Suddenly, there was a sharp cracking sound and a part of the ceiling showered dust down on them. He looked up at the ceiling. "This facility has been structurally compromised. We need to get to safety."
As the last of the soldiers escorted them out, Marko looked back at the containment panel in the lab. Just behind the cracked panel was the key to everything. If he left it now, everything he had gone through for the past two years would have been for nothing. "Chuck, the Cytorite!" he yelled as more of the ceiling began to crumble.
Charles turned to him. "Cain, we have to get out of here! We don't have time to properly contain it!" He ducked as another crack sounded throughout the lab, and a tumbling support beam came crashing down.
"No way!" Marko screamed. "I'm not getting this close and being denied!" He picked up a fire extinguisher and slammed it into the fracture in the containment panel.
"Cain! No!" Charles screamed, reaching out.
"Charles! We have to get out of here!" Kavita yelled.
Charles looked back just in time to see Marko clasp his hand over the glowing fragment and pull it free from its moorings. Then he was lost in a shower of debris as the lab collapsed.
# # # # #
[TEN YEARS AGO: Dallas...]
Makah Greycrow sat at his desk looking down at the hated letter. He had read it hundreds of times, but the content of it never changed, nor did the pain it brought. The letter was old, faded, dog-eared from repeated readings, but the pain was still clear. The paper was a soft shade of tan, which was supposed be more soothing than the stark white that most military missives went out written upon, but he was not soothed in the slightest.
The official story was that his father had died in battle, back when Makah was just a baby, but he knew differently. His father had actually died at the hands of the shadow organization known as Weapon X. He died after having been used and thrown away. His father had been killed by experiments that tried to turn him into some sort of super soldier, only to leave him powerless and no longer in control of his own life. Everything Makah had known about his father's death was a lie, but now the truth had been revealed.
"I will learn my lessons well, father," he said. "I will learn the ways of our people, and I will take my vengeance upon the bastards who took you from us, no matter how long it takes. They will pay, this I swear. Your little 'Maker' will show them the real power of the Greycrow name! I will learn to wield the magics that your ancestors used, they will be shaped into an ultimate weapon, and I will be the Forge!"
[To Be Continued!]