Disclaimer: Own some minor characters, but all the stuff you recognise is NOT mine and makes me NO money, all credit goes to the owners.

This story introduces characters from Peter David's excellent X-Factor series, but I hope to make them fit in with the usual Evo-verse. In order to get them all in it means that the original (totally awesome) characters may take a back seat, but they will be there so please bear with me. Also please review, even to insult me, at least I'll know someone is reading! On which note...

CHAPTER I: The Lion's Den

The bar's run-down nature was obvious even from the outside. The windows were dusty and cobwebbed; one of them even had a board to replace the glass that had once stood there and was now reduced to a few pathetic fragments lining the stained metal. An incongruous note was struck amidst the seedy décor by the door, which was very big, very thick and suspiciously well maintained given the state of its surroundings. Big as it was, the bouncer standing outside was even bigger, his shaven head scraping the top of the doorway and his shoulders too broad for him to enter without turning sideways. Every inch of him seemed to bulge with muscle; he seemed too big to be real, and in one sense he was. The bouncer was a mutant, a low-level one with powers obvious enough to ostracise him from polite society, but fortunately not so disfiguring they did not have their uses.

"This is the place, apparently." The voice was not addressed to the bouncer, in fact it was coming from a couple of hundred yards down the street. They had been spoken by an auburn-haired young man in a long coat to a similarly dressed girl. Not only did the outfits match, they were both wearing nearly identical expressions of scepticism. They strolled up to the bouncer and the girl, a tall, slender redhead, ignored him casually, as though hulking mutant thugs were an everyday occurrence.

"Is it really? Well, I guess we'll find out," she said, making as if to walk right past the massive bouncer. A hand the size of a plate placed itself in her chest, swiftly correcting her assumption. The bouncer glowered down at the impudent newcomers.

"No-one gets in without express permission from the boss," he growled. He didn't trust these two at all. His employer associated with some very mysterious crowds and worked in murky waters- as the employment of the bouncer himself implied- but these two still seemed kind of strange. Particularly the man- he was tall but lean, and his unshaven face and lank hair did not exactly suggest wealth and success.

"We do," the bouncer was informed casually. He did not believe the lack of respect he was being shown, and if he had been more intelligent and observant he may have been suspicious, if not outright concerned, but the lack of fear shown by two youngsters he could seemingly snap in half one-handed. Sadly for the bouncer, the mass of muscle appeared to extend to the space between his ears, as he immediately struck a combative pose and squared up to the two.

"Look, just step aside, big guy," the brown-haired boy suggested hopefully. "We really don't want anyone getting hurt here."

"The only one's getting hurt here are gonna be YOU!" the big man grunted and swung a meaty fist with a speed that was surprising and rather scary in such a bulky individual. Despite his speed, it was not quick enough to get past the hand that caught the fist and halted it with ease.

"Seriously, that's your best shot at witty banter?" a deep voice asked. The bouncer tugged ineffectually at the trapped hand but as his eyes traced the path from the hand and along the arm he became aware that he was slightly out of his depth. The bespectacled behemoth that had intervened was a head taller than even him, and at least twice as broad, almost grotesque in his breadth and muscle mass.

"Don't hurt him, Guido," the auburn-haired man instructed. The huge man tried to look pleading but that was a hard effect to pull off when seven feet tall and weighing in at four hundred pounds.

"What, at all? Not even a little bit?" he implored. "Can't I just rough him up a bit, he did threaten you guys."

Even as he was speaking his hand had tightened its grip. The bouncer paled and sweat sprang up on his brow and cranium as he felt the bones of his hands start to creak. He had thought his day had reached its lowest ebb, but was swiftly proved wrong when a piteous glance at the man calling the shots saw no sign of regret; in fact, the man was smiling. The bouncer summoned up all his strength, knowing he had one blow to launch his escape attempt. The punch was like a thunderbolt, it would have toppled a building or uprooted an ancient oak tree, but as it hit home directly on his captor's jaw the only side effect appeared to be a slight ripple that passed across his face. The man did let go of the fist in his grasp but as the bouncer staggered free he had just enough time to realise he was being lined up before the counterattack smashed into his chest. Several ribs snapped and as he slammed into a wall and slumped unconscious, he could feel blood trickling from his nose and the corner of his mouth.

"I thought I asked you to play nice?" the brown-haired man asked. The massive mutant shrugged, or at least appeared to; certainly the slabs of muscle on his shoulders flexed apologetically.

"Sorry, Jimbo. That was just a love-tap, not my fault the man's got a glass jaw. Besides, these scumbags deserve it," he excused himself.

"He is-" the man addressed as James glanced at the crumpled body and corrected himself quickly- "Was nothing to do with the main operation, Guido. Just hired muscle."

"Well, I just hope they didn't hire that clown for too much money. I've seen tougher puppies," said the one called Guido. "And why did he have to take a swing at me? I was only joking about hurting him."

"Tell me about it," said the red-haired girl; now she seemed to have relaxed somewhat there was a slight Irish accent audible in her voice. "All these people not finding it humorous that their limbs are in serious peril... who'd have thought it?"

"Much as I'm enjoying your little repartee, I should probably remind you we are here with a mission to accomplish," James interrupted them sharply.

"Mission?" Guido repeated sarcastically. "Spies and soldiers get missions, cool people get missions… we get to do the horrible stuff no-one else will touch."

"And that is exactly what we're here to do today, so will you stop moaning and focus?" barked James. Guido straightened and put on his best studious expression, and while the Irish girl was too good-natured to ever appear truly vigilant she did at least wipe the smile off her face.

"Monet, you in position?" James asked, pressing a button on an earpiece. With his other hand he pointed warningly at Guido. "Don't even think it."

"Think what?" Guido asked innocently, but inwardly remained compiling a list of innuendo and double entendres he could have applied to his leader's last question. The reply was swift and confident.

"Mais oui, of course I am," was the reply. It was so confident and assured that the French accent practically applied itself.

"Right, wait for my signal before you make a move. Hopefully Teresa and me can handle this without needing backup, but we need you ready in an instant."

"Seriously James, lighten up will you? We're P.I.s as in 'private investigators', not public instigators," Guido said soothingly. James and Teresa had been about to walk in but both paused and looked curiously at the grossly enlarged mutant strongman.

"How long have you been trying to get that one into a conversation?" Teresa queried curiously. Guido blushed and scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"A while," he admitted. "But you've got to admit it's pretty good."

"An all-time classic, now get your head together will you?" James snapped. "You wait out here in case Mr Li doesn't feel too chatty. Monet, you stay in position and check our new friend doesn't try and call in any reinforcements. Everyone clear?"

"Crystal," Guido said, and the others chimed in agreements. While the others appeared to be relaxed and calm enough to trade one-liners about the situation they were in, James was sure that it was all a façade to disguise their nerves. God knew he was sweating. Guido's 'P.I.' line may have been a bit lame but it certainly had a degree of veracity. James and his colleagues were investigators and detectives, not soldiers. Martin Li was the biggest fish they'd ever been charged with hooking, and they had never expected being asked to reel him in as well. He braced himself and turned to Teresa.

"Come on then. We'd better get this over with."

They walked inside and were immediately confronted by another thug in a cheap suit. Unlike the big lug Guido had handled so adroitly outside, this one was small and lean to the point of scrawny, but that was no reason to underestimate him; if anything, that made him more dangerous as there was no way Li would entrust his security to a human toothpick- there had to be more to this guy than first apparent.

"Dammit, Wilson, I told you to… what the hell?" The scrawny guy seemed surprised to see them; apparently he had not been aware of his colleague's fate. He recovered quickly though and raised a claw-like hand. Immediately both his opponents toppled with yells of pain, feeling their muscles spasm and contract against their will. James choked and gagged as the muscles of his throat tightened and restricted his breathing but it seemed that sort of precision required too much attention and control to be applied to more than one person at a time. Unfortunately for claw-hand, he had chosen the wrong person to focus on. Despite agonising cramps and strain, Teresa summoned all her willpower and managed to open her mouth without dislocating her jaw. She howled and a shockwave pulsed from her mouth to where claw-hand was standing. The air shimmered and quivered around him, hurling him to the floor and in his attempts to push himself upright he released his control over his two opponents. He instinctively lashed out with his powers and Teresa gasped in agony as her knee attempted to reverse itself, but this time it was James who escaped attention and James who struck the counterattack. Unlike his downed companion, James forwent mutant powers in favour of a swift punch that knocked the air from his enemy's lungs with a grunt. James sliced the edge of one hand against claw-hand's neck, and the man went down in a heap.

"You alright, Terry?" James asked his companion, who was upright but wincing as she tried putting weight on her injured knee. The Irish girl nodded slowly.

"Nothing wrong I can't work off," she said. She glanced at her leader curiously. "Where did you suddenly learn that Kung-fu stuff?"

"Don't know, must've picked it up somewhere I guess," James said vaguely. In all honesty he could not be sure why he had used the chop to the neck to down his target, even less how he had managed to pull it off successfully. Not that it mattered, the point was that it had worked and now they had more pressing things to attend to. Suddenly the French girl's voice came from the ear-pieces both mutants were wearing.

"We heard fighting, are you both okay?"

"Why, Monet, you almost sounded like you care," James said dryly.

"Don't be ridiculous," the reply was magnificently dismissive. "If you screw up, none of us get paid. I'm not passing up money because you two can't handle one little guard."

"Don't worry, we're fine… and so's your pay-check," James assured her. He headed further down the corridor. Whoever had installed the door at the end had not even attempted to make it look inconspicuous. Reinforcing bars and heavy bolts were the order of the day, and it looked like it would take a lot of breaking down. Teresa ran her hands over it with an air of professionalism; breaking things down was something of a forte, after all.

"I can definitely bring it down, but it's set in the wall. This thing comes down, they do too- we're not getting though this one unnoticed," she summed up her evaluation. "We may as well call Guido in- he can bust this thing easily and let's face it we're not exactly guests of honour anyway."

James looked at it pensively, seemingly weighing up his options. Teresa was right to say that they would not get in unnoticed, and Guido would be an asset in facing a hostile reaction, but he had one last idea to try before resorting to force. "Unless… maybe someone will let us in if I ask nicely."

"Ask nice-? Oh, no way James, remember what happened last time you tried that? You ended up talking gangster slang for a week," Teresa tried to convince her friend against the course of action she knew was coming. She was pretty sure it was hopeless. James was by nature as stubborn a man as anyone Teresa had ever met, quite apart from which he was still stinging from being wiped out by claw-hand so easily. James knocked on the metal door lightly then put a hand to the slot that served as a spy hole for those inside.

"Who're you?" The guard grunted. Suddenly a look of confusion passed across his face, then one of concentration. The next time he spoke, it was James's voice coming out of his mouth. "Right, the door's open, don't think anyone noticed." The door was indeed eased open quietly and Teresa swept in, passing the guard crossing the other way, now with a vacant, dreamy expression on his face. Teresa had just enough time to see it change to one of bemusement and consternation before the door was shut behind the, the yells and pounding of the door by the guard inaudible over the thump-thump of the bass music playing in the room. It was so loud that the new arrivals managed to get in completely unnoticed, and in fact James spent a few seconds wondering whether they could indeed have taken the door out without raising an alarm. Good old fashioned instinct had kept them in a shadowy corner to evaluate their new situation, and both of them applied their skills to the task.

Teresa was more focussed on their new companions than their surroundings. She could see that the gathering was decidedly eclectic, people from all different races, religions and backgrounds seemed gathered quite happily. The only things that seemed to unite them were the fact that some were visibly mutants, and others almost certainly so, not to mention that great equaliser and uniter of men- money, or as in this case, the lack thereof. None of them seemed particularly affluent and that was probably how Li had managed to reel them in, the promise of wealth would far outweigh the illegality of obtaining said money in anyone desperate enough. Some of them she recognised, even if the names still eluded her, as she had investigated and even arrested some of them in the course of other investigations. On their own, none of them appeared particularly powerful, but en masse it would take far more than two young private eyes to resist their massed power.

James on the other hand was taking a more analytical approach, examining their surroundings as opposed to its occupants. The place appeared at first glance to be a typical night-club type of set-up: massive speakers on the walls, no main lights, only those thrown up by the equipment on the stage at the far end. There was even a small bar at one side, manned by a burly, shaven-headed mutant with four arms. James ran an experienced eye over the walls and saw an impressive number of cameras, most of which he knew to be fake. Like any professional on either side of the law, he knew that the ostentatious, swivelling lenses with their flashing red LEDs were mainly there to distract from the genuine article, which were smaller, subtler and generally rather more accurate. Something didn't quite sit right about the whole situation though. Martin Li was not unusual in living a double life in his criminal dealings- the concerned, humanitarian philanthropist to the world, the Machievellian, unscrupulous crime-lord when no-one else was looking- but like many he affected many characteristics in both guises, normally playing the cultured, savvy man of style and class, even when his underlings were torturing some poor victim. This ghetto-style underground club was not like him at all, completely contrasting with his usual tastes. To James, that could mean one of two things: one, their information on Li was inaccurate, or at least incomplete; two, he wasn't even here tonight and his current lieutenant was in charge of the play-list instead. Neither scenario promised well for their mission.

"Table in the far right corner," he muttered to Teresa, pinpointing the location he knew Li or his highest ranking associate of the day must be lurking. Although he could not see anyone there, the way the most powerful and wealthy-looking mutants had congregated there made it unlikely he would be anywhere else.

"Got it," Teresa muttered back. "How do you want to play this one?"

"Keep it calm for now, no point starting a fight if we don't need to," James replied. The two mutants did their best to swagger through the crowds, trying to fit in as well as they could. Fortunately for them, ragged, long coats that had seen many better days was a hot fashion choice amongst disenchanted mutant outlaws, and no-one gave them a second glance. James was rather surprised to find that it was indeed Li who was reclining in a couch in the selected corner, one hand illustrating a point he was making and the other wrapped around a Martini. Standing at each shoulder were two mutants who were clearly in favour at the time. One was a tall, muscular-looking man with a hood casting a shadow over his face, while the woman at the other side dressed as though she had added 'courtesan' to her other roles of assistant and bodyguard. She was tall and generously-figured, her skin so pale it was almost paper-white except for a birthmark that was the same midnight black as her hair. Both of them were watchful and alert, as opposed to the fawning hangers-on that were toadying up to Li, trying to win favour.

"I'm pretty sure I can take the girl," Teresa whispered into James's ear.

"Let's hope it doesn't get that far," James muttered back. He was not totally surprised that Teresa's habitual feminist leanings had managed to derail her line of thought, even in these circumstances; no doubt she would be taking the skimpy clothing of the female as a personal insult and a set-back against female empowerment generally. On the other hand, James himself was allowing a faint surge of optimism to pass through his cynical thoughts. With the exception of the bodyguards, none of the other mutants looked like they'd be worth their weight in matchsticks if it came to a proper fight. They joined the assembled crowd of lackeys and hoped they fitted in. None of them gave the two a second glance; nor did Martin Li, for that matter… he only needed one.

"Ah, our new guests… what brings you to this fine establishment? And without invitation, I note." His voice was perfectly calm, almost worryingly so, and he did not show any sign of attacking or trying to escape. On the other hand, the hooded man had rolled up his sleeves to reveal thick elbow-length leather gloves, and the pale woman had pulled out a gun from the back of her tight trousers. The other mutants all turned to glare at the intruders, and there was a bizarre array of sounds as several of them powered up in various ways. James was impressed at how well he faked calm as he replied.

"We're investigating the disappearance of Layla Miller," he said coolly. Martin Li raised one sleek eyebrow curiously, then there was a flash of light and where he had once stood there was now his twin, only with colours reversed as though in a camera film before procession.

"Not for long," Mr Negative said, smiling coldly.