Author's Note:
This story is predominately based in the Movieverse. There may be slight character alterations, but only because I am not as steeped in Marvel-lore as I wish I was. I will try to make characters as true to their personalities as I can. Also, anyone that knows my writing knows that I am absolutely rubbish at finishing stories. Please keep that in mind as you read; I will try to pursue this one as long as I can, but I cannot guarantee that it will ever be officially 'finished.'
Finally, like some of my more recent work, this is a more mature version of Marvel reality. People will die, things will not be pretty at times. Kids should not read this.
Washington, D.C.
Morning
Luke Kapra sat in the chair, staring at his opposite. On the man's left side, court martial papers and a dishonorable discharge. On his right, a stack of papers red-bound and mysterious. Pandora's Box. He did not know which set of papers was worse. He did not know if he even had a choice.
"Mister Kapra."
The man across the table cleared his throat and glared at him through his one good eye. Luke tried to ignore the eye patch, knowing that it would distract him. Some part of him wondered if the patch was merely for effect. Coupled with the man's ferocious scowl, it poised him as a terrifying and commanding force. Or maybe he had really lost the eye. The patch felt outdated though. Certainly there were better ways to cover or replace a lost eye.
He nodded in reply.
"Captain in the Green Berets, decorated for service in Bosnia and Afghanistan. You've got five years of military experience. Two Bronze Stars, three Purple Hearts, and a pending nomination for Silver." The man sighed. "And you're a goddamn mutant."
Luke took it without batting an eyelid. He looked from one stack to the other. "My being a mutant saved lives."
"Crime of existence" the man quipped. "It doesn't matter whether you've helped grandmothers cross the street or set nurseries on fire; your very existence is what causes the issue. Because, quite frankly Mister Kapra, I don't give a damn whether you're a mutant or an alien from Hell. Most of your men don't care either, judging by the letters of protest I received from them all and a shit-ton of your fellow Green Berets."
"Then what's the problem?"
He knew the answer. He just wanted to hear the man say it. This talk had all the designs to put him on the defense. They sat in an interrogation cell, the kind that most people saw in movies and assumed every government organization had. That wasn't so. He was in a specific building with a specific purpose. The room had nothing in it save the table, bolted to the floor, and the two chairs. A large wall-encompassing mirror sat on his right. There could be no one on the other side, or a host of officials. Its design appealed to creating nervousness in the interrogated. Make them afraid to lie in case someone across the mirror knew the truth. Luke had nothing to lie about though. He had no one to fear across the mirror; he had done nothing wrong. Yet he was on trial anyways.
"Because people are afraid of anything more powerful than they are. And a guy like you is much, much more powerful than they are. Hence the choice." He patted the court martial papers. "You can take these, remove yourself from the military and find some way to take care of yourself in the world. Or you can take these." He held up the other papers. A big old CONFIDENTIAL covered the front, and a red string held it together. Very classy, very secretive. Luke spent a moment studying the folder. He gained nothing from it except that there were a lot of papers inside.
"What's that?"
"We're calling it the Specter initiative."
"Specter?" Luke cocked his head ever so slightly to the side. "What does that stand for?"
"No acronyms this time," he said with a half-smile. "Just Specters. It's a SHIELD initiative. Mutants are a growing minority in the world, and that means they are a growing issue. SHIELD wants to get a step ahead of the curve and develop a team of mutants that can use their powers for the good of the world. In time, maybe that will help calm the uproar over mutants. But for now, it would be a secret team. A ghost outfit, if you will."
"And just what the hell does that mean, sir?" Luke's eyes narrowed in suspicion. His blood boiled at the uncertain use of the term, and the condescending way the man said 'mutant.' He made it sound like a curse. "They want some freak show that they can dog and pony in front of Congress?"
"Easy, Chief." The man slid the papers across the table. "It'll be a Special Forces-style organization, just like your old unit. Just, this one will be comprised of mutants only. Team leader will be a mutant, team members will be mutants. A team of mutants, to protect against mutants."
"You want us to hunt our own?" Luke growled in his throat. He had not been a mutant for too long and had never been much for the whole controversy surrounding them. But that meant he would be deploying on American soil. His enemies would be American citizens. That, he had never been a fan of that. "What nutjob thought that would be a good idea?"
"Not hunting" the man clarified. "Protecting. Your enemies would be established terrorists and anarchists. You know of the X-Men?"
"Those people in New York, the mutants that fought at Ellis Island? I've heard of them." Luke nodded his head. "They're private though, and if I recall correctly, most of the government wouldn't mind locking them all up and throwing them in a bottomless pit. Why are they relevant?"
"That battled a terrorist named Magneto at Ellis Island" the man answered. "Mutants fighting mutants to protect mankind. The government may not like mutants, but we're not the government. SHIELD is independent of any nation. We see the value of people with superhuman powers, and we aren't afraid to take the talent wherever we can find it. Mutants are new, and they have an untapped source of power and responsibility. Your kind can be a great force for good in this world."
"And you want SHIELD to take that up?"
"Something like that." He gestured for Luke to unravel the string.
Luke opened the papers and started reading. Government funding, limited oversight by SHIELD officials, open recruitment, access to SHIELD technology and intelligence. It sounded good. It sounded too good. Nothing this good came for free. There was a catch, and he was pretty sure he knew what it would be. Selling his soul to the devil, that was something he had never had to face before. It was a prospect that did not sit well with him.
Before anything though, he had one question. The question that could easily decide whether or not he said yes without any other considerations. Who would be in charge? Would it be this man, or some bureaucratic official that was there solely to keep a leash on them? Or would it be a tried and tested leader with operational experience who knew how to handle a team like this. He had a hard time believing that an operation like this, with mutants being so controversial, could be granted any real freedom. It had to be a glass-cage deal.
"There are a lot of super organizations out there." Luke counted his fingers. "SHIELD, X-Men, Fantastic Four, and so on. Not to mention you probably have plenty of your own field agents. Why do you need this Specters team? What would we have to bring to the equation?"
"Because some bigwig though it was a good idea." The man chuckled quietly. "Hell if I know, Mister Kapra. I'm just the Director here, I don't know the minds of the Council. But they, and I agree, thought that organizing a team of mutants would be good for your kind."
"And they feel that it needs a mutant-counter-mutant organization? That sounds like a pretty slippery slope."
"Sure. Mutants are powerful beings" he said. "You bring something to the table because there are lots of you. Most heroes are isolated events. Captain America in the 1940s was from the lost Supersoldier Serum Project. The Hulk, gamma radiation. Iron Man, the… Tony Stark. The Fantastic Four flew into space and took a bath in cosmic radiation. Mutants, on the other hand, come in all shapes and sizes. And there are more every year. You have, collectively, every power imaginable under the sun, and then some. That kind of power can be used for great good or terrible evil. SHIELD wants to prove that you can be used for good."
"Ah, so the Specters are for a dog-and-pony show. Look at what the mutants can do when SHIELD trains them to be good. Classic." Luke tossed the file folder on the table in disgust.
"Hardly. The Specters can be a great argument for mutant rights."
That caught Luke's attention. He half-closed his eyes, adopting a disbelieving expression. He had yet to find a government program that could effectively do anything of the sort. Mutants had tried that for years now, and all they received was backlash. It didn't matter how many steps forward were taken; a single misstep through them back in the bog of mistrust.
"Think of it. The Fantastic Four gets more positive publicity than they deserve, and they aren't exactly normal people. The Specters can attain the same kind of reputation. A good reputation."
"And why is that so important." Luke shrugged. "The people that run SHIELD are all normal humans. Why does it matter to them?"
"Can you imagine the consequences of a war involving mutants?" The man pointed at Luke. "It would be apocalyptic if mutants went to war against humankind. No one knows how many mutants there are in the world, but there are hundreds that could unleash untold destructive power. I can name ten identified mutants off of the top of my head with the ability to lay more waste than a tactical nuclear warhead. It is in SHIELD's best interest to ensure this doesn't happen. We are a peacekeeping force, Mister Kapra. Mutant peace is one of the most important things on our schedule."
"So why don't you do something bigger about it? Go into politics, make laws, that kind of stuff."
"You know that wouldn't work." He chuckled darkly. "You can write laws all day long and they won't mean a thing unless the people follow them. To make this work you have to make the people want to follow them. That means we have to work on easing relationships between normal humans and mutants."
"Do you seriously think that would work?"
"We won't know unless we try. But we need someone to lead the team."
"And that would be…"
"You."
"Me, huh?" Luke held in his surprise. He had not expected that. "You want me to run this outfit."
"Yes. You're qualified. Five years running with the Green Berets, a great aptitude for leadership, and you have strong convictions. You are just the kind of man we need running the Specters. A military hero, born and bred in the heart of the Midwest. You're an All-American, Mister Kapra."
"Flattery doesn't work on me. Who would be looking over my shoulder?" Luke regretted speaking a moment later. He had just admitted interest. In the world of bargaining, he might as well have just shot himself in the foot. Now the other man had the initiative.
"Me." He extended his hand. "Let me introduce myself. Colonel Nick Fury, SHIELD Director."
"I've heard of you. You're an old war hero too. Though I thought you would be older." Luke relaxed. "Word is you're friendly with our kind. At least, you aren't hostile."
"That's the simple version of it. I work with Norse gods and giant green rage monsters. Mutants aren't that different."
Luke shut the file and took Fury's hand. "If you're running oversight, I think I'd feel comfortable. Sure beats a court martial. But I'm not a stool pigeon. If you put me in charge, I'm in charge. Don't give me a back seat driver who will question my work unless they are in the field with me."
"We were hoping you would say that." Fury took the court martial papers and ripped them in half. "Glad to have you on the team. We've already got you an executive officer."
"You picked an XO before you grabbed a commanding officer? Who agreed to take second string, one of your stoogies?" Luke paused. "Who is he?"
"He's a mutant like you" Fury said. "Kyle Saunders, former Marine. He joined SHIELD a few years ago after his enlistment ended. Been helping train new recruits, but when the Specter initiative was first started he requested a transfer in. Colloquially, he is known as Elf, though you might not want to call him that to his face."
"Elf?" Luke snorted. "A former Marine who wanders around with that kind of name? What's his deal and why didn't he want to have the command?"
Fury shrugged. "He's an NCO-type, been working with us for a while. Given his experience and yours, it's the best we could hope for to lead this team. When he signed on we offered him command. Flat out refused it, though he did agree to be the second-in-command."
"So I was your second choice?"
"Second in the world." Fury brushed it aside. "Think of it this way: his candidacy fell in our laps, but you are the first one we looked for."
"Remember what I said about flattery? Yeah, you just lost your bonus points."
Fury offered Luke a pen. Luke took it and signed his name on the dotted line. As the pen scrawled across the paper, he felt a great weight leave his shoulders. He also felt his gut begin to squirm. This was going to be one hell of an adventure.
"Right." He handed the folder back. "When do we get started?"
"Oh, you're going to like this." Director Fury stood and motioned for Luke to follow him out of the room. "We've already got you an operations center in the works."