Chapter 1: Desperate Measures

The crate was heavy but that wasn't what was bothering him. He carried it inside from the back of the truck and headed toward the back of the warehouse where his brother Mikhail stood examining similar crates stacked one on top of the other against the back wall. He put down the crate and stood, hands in the pockets of his fur-lined coat beside his brother as their comrades continued with the transfer of the goods. They were both big men and their bulk suggested years spent serving in the military. It was ironic how they were now working against the government that they had spent most of their adult lives protecting. Mikhail popped open one of the crates with a crowbar, revealing a stack of unassembled combat rifles. As he put one together, he said in Russian, "What is it now, Piotr?"

Piotr frowned. "This is not right, Mikhail There has to be another way... an honest way..."

Mikhail rammed the stock into the barrel and said through gritted teeth, "We've tried, damn it! We've tried a thousand times! And we never get what we need. It is always Illyana who suffers. Always! Never again, Piotr, never again..."

He was shaking. Piotr reached out and grasped his arm but Mikhail shook him off and examined the finished product. Piotr let it go and walked away... back to the truck... to help finish the transfer. He stopped by the door to let two of their crew back inside struggling with a crate between them. He peered outside and frowned. He could just make out the silhouettes of a sedan and two canopied trucks making their way towards him through the swirling snow.

"Mikhail! They are here!"

"Welcome them in then, brother!"

Mikhail stepped outside and walked towards the sedan. A stranger stepped out of the front of the car and stood before him, blocking his path and looked pointedly at Piotr's hidden hands. Piotr could have taken him out with a single blow, no problem but he had a feeling that it'd make a lousy first impression. So he pulled his hands out of his pockets and raised them palms outwards. The man nodded and walked back to the car to open the rear door. A relatively taller man stepped out and even though he barely reached Piotr's chin, Piotr had a feeling that this man was dangerous. There was a kind of energy that crackled around him, completely at odds with his composed and laid back persona.

"You are not Mikhail Rasputin." He spoke in a drawl with a thick French accent.

"He is inside with the shipment." Piotr turned on his heel and led the way.

Inside, Mikhail came forward to meet them. He tossed the rifle at the Frenchman who caught it and examined it. "Le Beau, my end of the bargain is done. It is time for you to uphold yours."

"Fine quality... and a steal at the price you're accepting."

"Where's the money, Le Beau?"

"You will get it, mon ami, have no fear. I have some... er... private business that needs to be settled with you..." He looked Piotr over. "...and your brother."

"I do not wish to linger here longer than necessary."

"It won't take long." Le Beau gestured for his en tray to leave.

Mikhail was looking at Le Beau strangely, sizing him up. After a moment he nodded and ordered the rest out.

"Make it fast."

Le Beau smiled and reached into his pocket. In one swift motion, Piotr closed the distance between them and slammed the Frenchman into the wall.

"Relax, mon ami." He drew a business card.

Piotr looked over at his brother who gave a slight nod. He let the Frenchman go and stepped back. Le Beau smiled, "You are very strong, Piotr."

"The understatement of the century." Mikhail snorted. "You have another client?" Piotr could tell that Mikhail was still trying to figure out the Frenchman's agenda.

"A very powerful one with a lot of connections..." He held out the card.

"Professor Charles Xavier." Mikhail read. "The Xavier Institute For Gifted Youngsters. Westchester, New York." He looked up. "What the hell is this?"

"We know about your sister." Le Beau suddenly became serious. "Xavier wants to help. He's offering to provide the funds for her treatment and he is willing to house you in America if you wish it."

Piotr felt as if he had been slapped in the face and he faintly registered Mikhail's surprise.

Mikhail gathered himself together. "The only funds that we need will be the ones that you will be providing us with."

"We both know that that won't cover it. You don't even know what she's suffering from."

"Give us the money and we'll take care of our own affairs."

"No..." Piotr spoke up and both men looked at him. "We have tried Mikhail We cannot do this on our own."

He could tell that his brother was losing his self control. "She is our sister and our responsibility! Not theirs!"

Piotr turned to face the Frenchman. "We want to trust you but in this business..."

"I understand, mon ami. There's a phone number on the back of that card. Call it. Our business here is done." He called his men in and handed over a briefcase to Piotr who took it without a word and headed back outside. Mikhail caught up with him in the snow, spun him around and floored him with a hay-maker. "How could you involve her in this, you bastard?"

"She's my sister as much as yours."

"Go to hell." Mikhail stormed off toward the truck leaving Piotr in the snow with a split lip and an aching heart. He suddenly realized that Le Beau was standing next to him with his arm held out. Piotr ignored it and stood up.

"Your brother has a temper, mon ami."

"The understatement of the century..."

Le Beau smiled. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way and Piotr assumed that he was very popular with the ladies.

"I must go."

Le Beau nodded. "Xavier is a good man. He will look after you and your family. Here..."

He was holding out another card... and Piotr took it.

Scott glanced at his watch. He was ten minutes early. The hollow roar that filled the underground tunnel was muffled by the sound of a train screeching to a stop. Late commuters rushed forward. In the hubbub he sensed a man emerge from the throng and stand by his side. "Cool shades."

"I know why you're here, Alex."

"Good. Then you can leave and I can take the boy."

"He comes with me. That is what he wants."

"Do you really believe that? Xavier has ways of... persuading..."

"He does not abuse his ability... unlike you... and your boss."

Alex laughed. "You are so naive Scott."

"You're the one who's naive, Alex. Lensher's corrupted your mind. We do not need to resort to violence."

"Spare me the lecture, bro. Look at them." He gestured at the crowd. "Like a herd of cattle. They need to be ruled."

Scott shook his head. "How do you intend to do that if you've killed them all?"

"We don't need them. They fear us."

"They fear what they do not understand. If we show them..."

"We are showing them what we are capable of!"

"No Alex... you're showing them the havoc that you can cause."

"Are you forgetting what they did to you? And you're still defending them! Why?"

"These people did not do anything to me... and you destroyed the ones who actually did."

"You should be thankful."

"I'm ashamed... of you."

"Enough talk. The ball's in your court, Scott. What do you want to do? Fight your brother... or walk away."

"Someone needs to hammer some sense into you."

Alex grunted. "I could destroy all of them right now."

"You could... but not as long as I live."

Alex raised his hand toward the crowd. It started to glow red. "Go Scott."

"No." He grabbed Alex's hand and twisted it behind his back. "You go. And give Lensher my regards."

Alex elbowed him hard in the stomach and spun around as Scott let go and staggered back. "Bad choice, bro."

He rushed forward but Scott pivoted out of the way and sent him crashing to the floor by sweeping his feet off the ground. There was a whistle. Security.

"Leave Alex."

Alex rolled over and raised an arm. A beam of red light sizzled through the air and caught Scott high in the chest, blasting him into the air, over the heads of the now panicking crowd and right into the side of the train. Scott collapsed onto the platform, winded. He looked up and saw Alex raise one arm towards an oncoming security guard.

"No!" Whipping off his shades, he focused on Alex and he could feel the power surge through him. Two identical beams of red light seared from his eyes through the air and found their target. Alex was thrown backwards into a pillar. The guard stopped, shocked as all the bystanders hurried to get out of the vicinity. A heard of cattle. Scott wanted to laugh... and cry...

He put his glasses back on and stalked toward his brother who was slowly rising to his feet and dusting himself off.

"And here I thought that you didn't want to make a scene."

"If you're involved there's always a scene, Alex."

"I like to liven things up. What say we change the decor?"

"I like it as it is."

Alex shot two blasts at the ceiling between them causing pieces of concrete to fall on the people below. With deadly precision, Scott blasted all the large ones to dust before they could cause any harm and shot an extra one at Alex who leaped out of the way. The pillar behind him shattered like glass.

"Impressive."

"A pity I can't return the compliment."

"Then let me show you what I can really do."

"Don't be thick, Alex.

Alex raised both his arms and two identical beams off red light emanated from his palms. Scott tore off his shades and his own beams met those of his brother's in mid air. The place where they met swelled and Scott could feel the air heat up. They were alone in the subway now. He could tell that Alex was having trouble controlling his ability.

"Give up and walk away, Alex."

"Never."

Using all his strength Scott took a step forward, increasing the intensity of his beam. The swell slowly but steadily moved toward Alex.

"Last chance, Alex."

"To hell with you!"

Scott summoned all the willpower he possessed and suddenly Alex's beams seemed to give way and he went flying through the air where he crashed into the wall and sank to the floor unconscious beside a steel bench. Scott put his shades back on and shook his head sadly. Alex had always been stubborn and hot-headed but they had always gotten along when they were little. If their parents were still alive, things would have turned out differently. He sighed and walked up to the limp form. Using his optic beams, he weakened the metal of the bench and pulled it over the unconscious body, soldering it in place and effectively trapping him. A train pulled up to the pavement and Scott watched the astounded passengers stare at the mess. He walked towards the very last one to exit the train.

"Kurt Wagner?"

The hunched boy wrapped in a long cloak nodded, his face hidden beneath a large hood. "Yes."

Scott held out a hand. A three fingered hand in a five fingered glove grasped his. "Scott Summers. I teach at the institute. Let's get out of here."

"Ah yes... Professor Xavier told me to expect you." Wagner had a thick German accent. "Vot happened here?"

Scott glanced behind him. Alex was gone.

"I'll tell you on the way."

Minutes later, Scott ended the call and pocketed his cellphone.

"Vhy are these people after me?"

Eyes on the road, Scott expertly steered his red convertible through traffic. "They want to use your ability to create a world ruled by people like us."

"That is not right. This world is theirs as much as it is ours."

Scott smiled as they started climbing one end of a bridge. "Let's hope that they'll come to see it that way."

He glanced at his rear view mirror and froze. "Keep your head down, Kurt and brace yourself."

Accelerating, Scott changed lanes keeping the speeding motorcyclist in his sights. He watched it weave around several vehicles, gaining on them. He saw the hand rise... saw it glow red. Slamming down hard on the brakes, he struggled to control his car as Alex shot passed them. The car behind them blared its horn angrily and swerved to avoid a collision.

"Sorry Alex." One well placed optic blast sent the motorbike and its rider flying over the railing and into the water below.