Disclaimer – All rights to the names and likenesses of the X-Men belonging to Marvel Comics. This story takes place after the final episode of the 90s cartoon series and therefore all canon is cartoon canon, such as Sabretooth's name being Graydon Creed Sr rather than Victor Creed. The only exception is using Lance Alvers as Avalanche's real name in the effort of giving him a personality.
It's All Relative
Prologue
The young soldier watched as the transport truck slowed to a stop and the passenger door swung open. A figure wearing a heavy parka stepped out and shouted something in Russian to the driver. The figure then slammed the door and turned to face him as he approached.
"We've been expecting you-" he began, but cut himself off as he noticed the visitor was not whom he had thought it would be. "I'm sorry, I was told to expect Dr. Zhamnov."
"There has been a change of plans," the woman replied in her thick Russian accent. Her eyes fell on the TT33 Tokarev pistol holstered at his hip and a quick glance revealed that all the guards were armed with the same. "Dr. Zhamnov had to say back and monitor work on his latest project. I am his assistant, Dr. Romanova."
"Then, let me show you inside," he nodded, waving his okay to the other two guards. A thought occurred to him as they neared the building. "By the way, do you have your identification papers?"
"Of course." She pulled them out of her pocket and handed them to him. He felt a tingle of relief flow through him; he would have really been in trouble if he'd forgotten to ask for ID and something had happened. Satisfied with what he saw, he returned them.
Dr. Romanova surveyed the interior of the nuclear research facility with great interest. She noted several scientists enter a room, the door clearly marked "Biohazard: Authorized Personnel Only". The room could only be accessed by a security card scan.
"I believe you are required at the test site," the guard informed her. "The radiation suits are located in the room to your left, and then take the elevator to the test area on sublevel two."
"Thank you for your help," she replied. "And, if it is not too much trouble, I will need supplies brought in from the truck."
"I'll get them." The guard turned and headed back outside.
Dr. Romanova continued on her way into the storage room and pulled on a radiation suit. Then she made her way to the elevator and followed the guard's directions. For every security camera she passed she made a mental note and saw several more doors requiring a card scan for entry.
"Good evening, gentlemen," she greeted the four technicians upon entering the test lab. "Dr. Zhamnov sends his regrets, and his assistant as the messenger and replacement."
The head technician glanced at her ID tag and smiled. "Welcome, Dr. Romanova. Sergei always was a very busy man."
"Constant problems arising that require urgent attention," she agreed, noting his lack of Russian accent and glancing at his nametag in return: Dr. Miller. Always an American in charge of such things, she thought.
"Now, to get straight to the point, you are here to monitor our disposal treatment," the technician continued, directing Dr. Romanova's attention to the figures in the next room behind a large radiation window. She took in the scene with interest, only half-listening to Dr. Miller as he went on explaining about the conditions of START II and the corresponding limitations. She watched as the men slowly dismantled a nuclear missile, carefully removing the warhead.
"Dismantling the missiles is just phase one," the technician explained. "We still have to find a way to remove and safely dispose of the nuclear material inside the warheads. Until then, they are kept in the specially-shielded storage building next door."
"A lengthy process lies ahead of you, doctor," Romanova nodded. "But even so, it is a definite advance in the disarmament project. I must report in full to the government about the facility. If your process is as good as you propose, you may be looking forward to a generous grant toward your research."
"Our fingers are crossed, I assure you," he smiled.
And the warheads are stored next door? "Would I be able to take a look at that storage building, doctor?" she asked. "I must be certain that they are being held with the proper care."
"Certainly. Take this keycard and use it to open the security door," he readily complied for his important visitor.
"Thank you," she took it from his hand. "I'm going over there now."
As she turned her back on the technicians, she carefully and noiselessly unzipped her radiation suit and reached into her parka.
"Oh, Dr. Romanova," the head technician began as an afterthought. "Did Dr. Zhamnov say whether he would be arriving later or not? I've been meaning to discuss a few things with him."
She turned suddenly and he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. His hand went automatically to the spot, and when he looked down at it, it was covered in thick, red blood. He looked back up at Dr. Romanova and the silenced Walther PPK she held pointed in his direction.
The next few seconds seemed to happen in slow motion as she changed her aim and fired three more shots. He heard the pained cries as his personnel fell to the floor, either dead or dying.
Dr. Romanova returned aim to him. She walked a few steps forward and held the gun to his head. "As a matter of fact, Doctor Miller, he is already here," she answered him before pulling the trigger.
The young guard rubbed his cold hands together as he dropped the tailgate to Dr. Romanova's transport truck. There were several crates piled inside, and he wasn't sure which contained the supplies she needed.
"Nikolai, you borscht-for-brains," he cursed himself. "You should have sent one of the new kids to haul cargo. Better they mess up than you."
He pulled back the canvas tarp and scanned the labels on the crates. She would probably need some kind of radiation-sensing equipment, though what kind of box that would be in was beyond him. He reached for the nearest crate to him and pulled it closer to take a look inside. After taking a moment to pry the lid off with his frozen fingers, he pushed the packing foam away to discover several AK-47 rifles packed neatly inside.
"What in the world-?" he muttered to himself, feeling his stomach getting queasy. A long, black vinyl bag caught his attention and he pulled it closer to get a better look. Nikolai fumbled with the bag until he discovered a zipper and pulled it open--only to meet the blank stare of a familiar face.
"Dr. Zhamnov?" Nikolai felt a bitter taste in his mouth as he gaped at the dead body. The icy wind stung as he stood in shock, trying to decide what to do. "I've got to report this," he said aloud, attempting to get himself motivated. A thought occurred to him: maybe the driver could help him apprehend her and take her to the authorities.
"You've got to help me! Dr. Romanova is-" he shouted, flinging open the driver-side door, but stopped himself as he scanned the vacant cab in bewilderment. "What is going-"
A low growl from behind him cut him off and his hand immediately went to his hip for his weapon. He spun around and trained it on the darkness, trying to locate the source. He could see nothing but trees and shadows and began to panic. His eyes darted wildly from the darkness to the buildings and back. Perhaps he could make it inside before whatever it was out here could catch him.
Taking deep breaths and trying to remain focussed, Nikolai slowly eased his way toward the facility, keeping his back against the truck. He glanced back for a moment and noticed the prints in the snow for the first time. Huge clawed prints from an oversized foot led from the driver's door into the shadows.
Nikolai broke into a run but was immediately met with a blow to the side of his head as he passed the truck and entered open air. His gun flew from his hand as he was knocked a few feet and plowed into a snowdrift. He instinctively pushed himself to a kneeling position and spat blood and a dislodged tooth onto the white ground.
A shadow blocked out the light of the moon, and Nikolai looked up at the monster that loomed over him. His scream caught in his throat, and all he could manage was a pitiful squeak.
"Calling for help is useless when there's nobody left alive to hear you," his attacker spoke in a low, gruff voice.
"Who are you?" Nikolai tried to stand and run, but his legs had turned to rubber and would not respond. He reached out for the gun that lay only a few feet away. The attacker made a move toward him and Nikolai lunged for his weapon. Two clear shots rang out through the cold, still air but missed their mark as the monster dodged to one side and thrust a muscular arm out at its prey.
The creature caught and picked him up by the throat and squeezed his windpipe, then knocked the gun from his hand. Nikolai, now eye-to-eye with it, could make out long, mangy hair and eyebrows on the man, along with unmistakable cat-like eyes.
His attacker opened its mouth to speak, baring its sharp canine teeth in the process. "Your worst nightmare," it replied to the question and threw Nikolai away like a rag doll. The monster smirked; it had always wanted to say that.
The guard's backbone shattered as he collided with high force into a tree. "Don't move," he whispered to himself, clenching his teeth through the blinding pain. He hoped to God that the monster had left him for dead. "They will find you and help you and get you to a hospital and you will be okay as long as you don't move."
"Keep believing that," his attacker came into view and wrapped its long fingers around his throat, again lifting him into the air. Nikolai screamed his excruciating pain as his spinal cord was severed and he lost feeling from the waist down. "More fun for me if they do come."
Nikolai's eyes began to roll back into his head, and he fought to concentrate on what the monster was saying.
"You were right," it growled, then pulled its victim closer to speak directly in his ear. "You should have sent one of the new kids to haul cargo." Then it gripped its giant hand on top of the guard's head and twisted.
Nadia Molotova admired her handiwork from the doorway. All four technicians were dead, their bright red blood pooling under their bodies. She looked up at the security camera in the corner of the ceiling. Her partner off base was to have hacked into the facility's computer system and shut off all surveillance equipment. If he hadn't, there was going to be a whole lot of trouble very soon. Sasha turned her attention to the radiation window and was relieved to see that the men in the next room had not noticed anything happening. They were much too engrossed in dismantling the warhead.
She pulled a two-way radio headset out of her parka pocket and adjusted it over her ear and mouth.
"Sabretooth, are you finished?" she spoke into it.
Sabretooth stood over the body of the young guard. It was bent at an odd angle due to the broken spine, and this amused the giant mutant. The head lay in the snow about a foot away from the body, its face frozen in a terrified grimace.
He cocked his head at the buzzing of the radio receptor in his ear and turned his attention to Nadia's voice.
"You're clear," he replied after sniffing the air. "All of the guards have been disposed of." He grinned menacingly to himself, thinking of the scattered bodies hidden in the darkness.
"Good work," Nadia told him, and then opened the door. She moved down the hallway and used the keycard to gain access to the lab where the men were dismantling the warhead.
Taking out a gas grenade from her pocket, she opened the door a crack, pulled the pin and rolled it into the room. As it went off, the mustard gas began spreading throughout the room, and she closed and locked the door with the keycard. She attached a small device to the card scanner and punched a code into it. The scrambler went to work, denying keycard use from the other side of the door.
Nadia then made her way back to the observation lab and watched nonchalantly as the scientists coughed and choked, desperately trying to open the door. Soon the entire room was tinted yellow with the deadly chemical mist and the scientists dropped to the floor, suffocating and slowly dying.
She left and took the elevator back to the main hanger. She smiled as she passed several guards who nodded as they read her fake ID tag, completely oblivious as to what had just gone on in the lab. Obviously the cameras had been deactivated.
"Toad did his job," she whispered to Sabretooth through the radio. "Have fun."
She reached the security door - also marked with a biohazard symbol - without a problem and opened it with the keycard. On the other side was an outdoor fenced-in walkway to the building containing the dismantled warheads. She let the door close behind her, knowing that in a moment, Sabretooth would be inside, ripping apart all those unlucky enough to be there.
Nadia then began to run down the walkway and her mutant power kicked in. Had anyone been alive to witness it, all they would have seen was a wall of snow being churned up behind her as she ran. Her mutant name was Velocity and she was blessed with the gift of incredible speed.
When she reached the other end of the walkway, Nadia prepared to enter the building as fast as possible. The dismantled warheads would be heavily guarded, and she had to take out all the guards before they had a chance to set off the alarms. With her powers, this would not be a problem. They would be dead before they knew what hit them.
She mused for a moment at Dr. Miller's words: We still have to find a way to remove and safely dispose of the nuclear material inside the warheads. In the meantime places like this were a veritable gold mine for any terrorist able to get their hands on it. That was exactly what she and the rest of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants were counting on.