Clash Of The New Mutants

by Captain Crossover

"Not too long ago," begins Agent Coulson as he switches on the View Screen. "We picked up a transmission on a renegade pack of New Mutants. This mission has now turned into a Combat Op. In order to fight off these Mutants, we'll need a mutant of our own." says Agents Coulson as he press a button on the panel. The door sighs open to reveal a familiar face, but dreaded face.

1. Prologue

CLASH OF THE NEW MUTANTS

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything.

Prologue:

Late at night, a lone man runs through the dark congested alley. The moonlight cast shadows all through the area. His feet splash puddles of water up to his pants legs. He runs into trash cans and broken bottles. He has labored breathing; panting as he tries to maintain his speed. Running for several blocks does tend to tire you out some. This isn't like running from the Gangs or cops like back in the day. This is something totally different.

If he stops running and gets caught, he might not make it to see the next day. Are they watching? Or did they stop chasing him? As he runs, he constantly looks over his shoulder. That's a sin to do while running, His mind goes back to his S.H.E.I.L.D. Academy track days when his S.O. use to tell him not to look back while running. It hinders you from maintaining your speed.

The man reaches up and touches the Com Receiver in his ear. "This is Agent Jenkins to the Bus. The Item is retrieved. I repeat: The item is retrieved. "

"Acknowledged Agent Jenkins," responds the disembodied voice over the Com Receiver. "What is your position?"

"I have been compromised." he pants through the device. "I am being chased by-." Just then, all Agent Jenkins could her was static through the other end of the receiver.

"Come in. Over." he yells through the Receiver.

No response.

"Dammit." he mutters as he tosses the Receiver onto the ground and crushes it with his heel.

He finally makes it out of the opening of the alley and is about to cross the street. Cars zoom by in either direction. Their headlights beam through the night. He bolts through the street hearing the blaring of horns and the swear words hurled by the disgruntled drivers. Out of all of that noise, the screeching sounds of tires squealing on the road peel into his mind. He turns his head while in mid stride and time slows down. His animal instincts kick in. He freezes like a dear and then: BOOM. He flips over the front end of the vehicle and rolls up the hood. Cracks form in the windshield and the force runs through his body. He can't believe what has just happened. Is this for real? Is this real life? He soon rolls back off and lands on the road.

As his body becomes numb to the pain as he stumbles back to his feet. He looks through the windshield to take a good look at the driver of the car. Through red eyes, he sees a pale skinned middle aged man. His dark shades covered his almond shaped eyes and accentuates his high cheek bones. His neck length white hair contrasts with the darkness behind. His expressionless face shows a man who has bit the worse of it and has still survived to take more. His eyes met his and did not blink. I bet not thinks the man to himself. His eye lids become heavier as every second passes. He soon falls into unconsciousness.