"Operator, please connect me to the police."
"One moment, mam."
"This is the Westchester Police department. How may I direct your call?"
"I'd like to report a stolen vehicle, please."
"That extension is 2661. Allow me to connect you."
"This is Deputy Rodgers. What can I do for you."
"I'd like to report a stolen jeep."
"Yes, mam. Please tell me everything you know."
"Certainly, sir. The vehicle is a 2000 cobalt blue Jeep Wrangler 4 by 4. It's registered to a Dr. Hank McCoy. That's M-C-C-O-Y. License plate number G-E-N-E-D-O-C. That's correct, sr. GENEDOC. It was stolen last night at approximately one in the morning."
"Do you have a description of the suspect?"
"Suspects. Yes sir, I do. The perpetrators are two Caucasian males. Their ages are 13 and 17 years old. Their names? James Lennox and Alexander Jeffries. They are former students of my institution at 1407 Graymalkin Lane, Westchester, New York. James is the 13-year old. He's four foot, 10 inches tall. He has short black hair; gray eyes, and was last seen wearing gray cargo pants and a white sleeveless shirt. Alexander is approximately six foot tall, has shoulder length chestnut hair, has a slight muscular frame, wears black glasses, and was last seen wearing a long sleeved pullover and faded blue jeans."
"Is there anything else you can tell us?"
"Oh yes, I'd also like to report that one of the school safes was broken into. Five thousand dollars in cash and some jewelry has turned up missing. I would greatly appreciate the return of the jewelry as it has great sentimental value."
"O.k. We'll be sending over an officer shortly to take a statement and to interview any witnesses. Will that be all?"
"Just one further thing. The thieves are to be considered armed and dangerous. Use extreme caution with apprehending them."
"Thanks for the warning, mam. Please contact us if you have anything further to add. Good day."
"Thank you, officer. Good day."
Placing the cordless phone on the receiver, the young woman stepped back and took full measure of herself in the full-length antique mirror. Tracing her reflected smile with a delicate fingertip, she threw her head back and let forth a raucous, maniacal laughter. Outside, a barn own takes wing; its rest disturbed by the noise emanating from within the stony exterior of the mansion. "Soon Xavier. Soon. Revenge shall be mine for what you have done. The Hellions will be reborn again!" As the mad laughter died down to a feint whisper, the world trembled at the re-emergence of the new White Queen.
***
Lying against the maple paneled hallway lies a fear stricken girl; her hands held tightly against her bloodless neck, her eyes frozen and mouth hung open. Unable to voice a scream or even to draw breath, she wills herself to calm and her heart to stop racing. She breathes in and slowly exhales. She repeats the calming process several more times until she feels she can fully operate without raising an alarm to her whereabouts. "I must get to them," she thinks. "Warn them before the police gets to them." As she pushes herself up the wall to a more stable position, her war ravaged wings strain in agony due to the heavy pressure laid upon them. Biting down on her lip to keep from crying, the pained, frightened girl limps her way down the hallway in search of a soul to confide in.
***
Gently brushing her golden yellow locks with a silver hand brush, a slight rustling sound emanates from beyond the bedroom door. Shaken from her nightly ritual, she looks up and notices a small white blemish against her walnut stained floors. Rising like a swan in flight, she glides over to the foreign object and picks it up with her bejeweled right hand. Lifting the feather up to her nose and inhaling its deep medicine-laden smells, she allows herself the briefest of laughs and turns towards the gilded nightstand by her four-post bed. "Deputy Rodgers please. Yes, I'll wait. That's correct. I wish to report another occurrence. One of my students, Viola Damiano, has turned up missing and I believe the two juveniles that stole the jeep took her against her will. Thank you, officer. I know you and your men will do their utmost to bring her back unharmed. Good bye."
***
As she races down the hall at breakneck speed, Viola strains to see through her streaking tears. Forcing the pain away by sheer force of will, she doesn't see the approaching figure until it is too late. Throwing her arms up in defense, the winged mutant collides with the one person she needed most. A startled scream escapes Destiny's oval mouth as her best friend and confidant charges her head on. The resulting impact knocks both girls over in a ball of limbs and wings. Coming to rest against a massive grandfather's clock, the girls start the untangling process and carefully examine each other for injuries. "What's the matter, Viola? Who's chasing you?" Forcing her words between mouthfuls of air, she responds, "It's Emma. She's sending the police after Alex and James." Pulling back in shock, Destiny brings her hand to her mouth and silently mouths the word, "No." "Why is she doing this?" "I don't know, Destiny. I have to warn them somehow, though." Lightly removing a tangled strand of hair from her friend's face, Destiny puts a calming edge to her voice and relays what brought her in search of Viola. "I had a premonition. It's not good either. I saw somebody chasing Neo and Syn, but they had a guardian angel taking care of them. I think that angel is you, Viola. You need to get to them somehow and get there fast."
Raggedly pulling each other up from the floor, the two friends stare back at each other in fond tenderness. Pulling her in for a final hug, Destiny bids her best friend farewell. "Go to them, Viola. They need your help. Don't worry about the rest of us. We can take care of ourselves. Now go. I'm counting on you." Easing Viola towards the staircase, Destiny whispers a final "Take care" and urges the saving angel up the stairs. As Viola descends the steps one by one, she looks back one last time and whispers a silent prayer to whoever is listening. "Watch over her," she pleads. "She's all that I have left."
***
At the top of the grand staircase, Viola rushes off in the direction of the girl's dormitory. Throwing open her bedroom door she immediately heads for the cluttered dresser. Forcing whatever could fit into a drawstring duffel bag, Viola casts about for any final necessity and instinctively grabs the pendant hanging from Destiny's jewelry box. At one time an heirloom from a forgotten family, it now served as a bonding gift between Viola and Destiny. Very keen of Viola's hidden past, Destiny gave back the pendant in hopes that Viola would find the secret behind it. In a mutual agreement, the pendant went unworn on both sides, but would instead remain sheltered in the black velvet case until it was needed. Placing the pendant around her neck and pulling back her raven-hued hair, Viola snatches her duffel bag and heads out of the bedroom.
In the underground garage, Viola desperately scans the collected vehicles in search of the fastest mode of transportation that will allow her to reach Neo and Synapse in time. Her purple-tinted eyes land on a solitary black Harley-Davidson. As she approaches the machine, she franticly searches about for a set of keys. Not finding any in sight, she settles for placing the helmet on her head and straddling the motorcyle. From her front pocket, she pulls out a set of keys in the vain hope she'll find a possible match. As she thrusts each key into the ignition, a metallic "clink" resonates from the cycle. "Use dis and stop scratchin' up Remy's cycle." Startled from her efforts, Viola looks up and sees one of her now former instructors, Remy Lebeau. "Remy don' know why you be tryin' to steal what his, but iffn you need it dat bad, Remy not gonna stand in the way of heaven's angel." Tossing the keys in a graceful arc, the Cajun thief turns about and walks into the inky shadows from whence he emerged. Exhaling her breath, Viola steadies her shaking hands and drives home the silver key into its matching compartment. Revving up the motor, the tires squeal and belch forth noxious tarry smoke. Leaving a semi-circle impression on the once pristine garage floor, Viola shifts to second and quickly outdistances the gray cloud. "Remy be guessin' he ain't gonna see dat bike again, no?"
The fall sunshine glistens off the white wings of a fallen mutant angel and dances playfully on the chrome plate of a very powerful machine. The lone cry of a hawk in hunt echoes overhead as it circles down in search of prey. Head down and shoulders arched, Viola speeds down the tree-lined highway. Sprays of reds and yellows and oranges blend in an autumn tapestry woven of sun drenched leaves. Paying no heed to the majestic display put forth, she leans further into the shadow-dappled road and skims along the earthen banks. Her heart filled with a need so desperate that she forsakes her own safety, Viola pushes farther and farther into the back of her mind the welfare of the friends she left behind. It is all she can do to will the bike faster and faster along the river of tar. Little does she know the danger she has left behind.
***
"Sebastian. The preparations are underway. The Hellfire Club has been reborn."