Chapter 2
Once the walls and ceiling stopped reverberating, Daniel Barrington, the Master of the Dominion Council, collected himself and brushed a cloud of dust off his five thousand dollar Italian suit. The explosion overhead had been a powerful one, raining dirt and debris down even on this protected chamber. Exactly what had exploded he had no idea, but he knew who set it off. Adam Kane had momentarily torn free from his guard, yelled a warning to his mutant friends, and pressed something on his watch. The resulting blast had been immediate.
This area was part of a specially modified wing of Dominion headquarters, so it wasn't nearly as damaged as it might have been. Barrington had escaped injury by being under the heavily-reinforced ceiling. Two members of his personal security team, though, hadn't been as lucky. They had been only a couple of steps beyond that framework, but it was far enough to get them caught in the curtain of falling rubble. The collapse should have crushed Mutant X as well, since they were well outside the protected area and even blocked by a force field, but Kane's warning had allowed Jesse Kilmartin the brace of seconds he needed to take action. The molecular mutant had used his ability to alter his physical density, and that of persons or objects he was in direct contact with, to save his teammates from harm. No doubt he had also used it to get them all safely out of the building. The Council Master's countenance hardened with lethal intent. Escape they might, but the respite would be short-lived. By challenging the Dominion Mutant X had signed their own death warrants. He would have their heads on a platter by morning.
It wasn't just the explosions they had to answer for. Alarms had already been going off throughout the facility, and reports of massive computer failures had been pouring in from every department. The cause appeared to be an inordinately virulent and destructive virus downloaded into their system that, once it caught, started disrupting electronic systems, communications, and even power throughout the headquarters. He could see Lexa Pierce's hand in this; she must have done it in the brief amount of time between when she escaped from her escort and when she was finally brought down outside this very chamber. Fortunately the area he was in now was completely self-sufficient, with its own water, air and power run by a separate server, so all systems, particularly security, were functional and the data intact, no thanks to Lexa. She would pay dearly for her treachery
First, however, he had to get out of here to a more secure location, as he could hear the intermittent rumbling of ancillary explosions going off throughout the complex. His two remaining guards had already started off toward the emergency exit escorting Adam Kane and the ancient man who lived and worked in this ultra-secure suite. Barrington gazed down at his two fallen operatives, his lips curling in a sneer of disgust. He had no idea if they were dead or merely unconscious, but the bottom line was that they would be of no use to him for the immediate future. Turning his back on their crumpled forms, he left them to their fate as he followed the others toward safety.
Adam Kane stood quietly next to the burly guard who had dragged him away from his friends. He had given some thought to ramming his elbow into the man's solar plexus when he was pulled through what he recognized as an electronic anti-pathogenic field, but then dismissed the notion. For one thing, he had no idea where he was or where they were going. For another, there was a second enforcer to deal with, which could have been problematic. The wisdom of that decision became apparent when they cleared the barrier. Two more security people, communication devices in their ears and guns in their shoulder holsters, were waiting for them in front of a private elevator. That pretty much precluded any escape attempt, unless something extraordinary happened to even the odds a bit.
Such an event wasn't completely outside the realm of possibility; the only question was whether or not he would survive to take advantage of it should it happen. There were rumblings above and beyond the chamber; strong, like bomb blasts, some close enough to shake dust from the ceiling, and they were growing in scope and number. Their origins puzzled him. When he programmed their airship, the Double Helix, to detonate upon receiving a certain electronic signal he hadn't expected it to start a chain reaction throughout the complex, but it seemed that might be what was happening. It sounded like the whole place was going up. If they didn't get out of here soon he might just get buried beneath his own handiwork, and wouldn't that be a kick in the head?
He could only hope that Shalimar and the others had gotten out safely. Adam had seen Jesse react quickly to protect the team after the initial explosion, but he had no way of knowing if they had been able to get clear before the rest of the dominoes started to fall. It was likely they had, considering their skill and resourcefulness, but he had no way to be sure. Assuming they managed to get away, he surmised that they would find someplace to regroup, like a safe house of some sort. After that, there was no telling what would happen. They might try to search for him, or they might be too busy evading the Dominion's bloodhounds to even consider trying to find him. He was on his own.
Adam's gaze fell upon the aged figure standing a short distance away, supported on one side by the second bodyguard. The Dominion called him 'The Creator', and whatever else he was, there was no doubt that he was the organization's creative heart and soul, the scientific genius behind their mission and purpose. Supposedly he had been running the organization since the 1800s, using his incredible intellect to, among other things, develop therapies to greatly extend his lifespan. For Adam his title held another, more personal meaning. The old man claimed that Adam was his clone; that the parents Adam remembered were merely loyal employees specially chosen to nurture and safeguard this most precious of his creations. Every aspect of Adam's life had been shaped according to his master plan, so that one day he might call upon this younger version of himself to complete the work of redefining the human race along genetically superior lines.
That there could be any truth to the man's assertion was something Adam was still trying to wrap his head around. There was no denying that the resemblance was remarkable, even accounting for the ravages of age. The science was certainly possible today, but that it could have been done five decades earlier was an astounding premise. Adam shook his head, reminding himself that it could just as easily be a lie. Until he could get his hands on a blood sample from the old man and do his own DNA testing, he wouldn't let himself accept the statement at face value. He had more important things to think about.
Uppermost in his thoughts was the swirling hologram the Creator had shown him earlier of a DNA matrix. It was similar to the one he had been working on when Mutant X tracked him down, dealing with the instability of mutant DNA, but with one very important difference. Embedded within the Creator's complex formula was the missing variable that put the entire equation together. Adam had known instantly that he was staring at his own personal Holy Grail, the culmination of research he had spent practically his entire adult life seeking. With that matrix he could stabilize his friends and all mutantkind; could perhaps even cure the terrible diseases that plagued the human race. And that was only the beginning. There was no telling the things he could learn from this man. Locked inside his head was two centuries worth of scientific secrets, knowledge he was willing to share. The prospect of working with him thrilled and enthralled Adam, so much so that for a moment he forgot the Dominion and what it had become.
Then the barrier shimmered and Daniel Barrington stepped through. For Adam it was like having a bucket of ice water thrown in his face. In that cruel, arrogant face was the deep-seated corruption, the soulless evil of the Dominion personified. This man took knowledge that should have been used for the betterment of all mankind and turned it to his own twisted, perverted ends. Somehow, some way, Adam must find a way to stop him.
One of the security men approached the Master of the Dominion Council, his manner deferential.
"Sir," he said. Barrington thought his name might have been Foster, but he really didn't know for sure, and frankly had no interest in the matter. "We have come to evacuate you and the Creator. Fires are raging out of control in sections R1, C3, C4 and H1."
"We need to safeguard the Creator's data, and scrub the server."
"Already being handled, sir."
"Is my pilot standing by?"
"Waiting for you at the auxiliary hanger, sir."
"Has Security apprehended Mutant X?"
"Negative, sir. Security is at present engaging a second attacking force."
A low rumble and the sound of something heavy crashing behind a nearby wall made them all duck instinctively. Foster straightened and continued with his report.
"Shortly after the first explosion three helicopter gunships swept in from the west. Ground troops were landed, and I've received reports of possible mutant abilities among them. Between them and the fires, we cannot hold this facility."
"Very well. Let's go."
They entered the elevator. One of the guards jabbed his thumb at the lone button. The doors closed silently behind them.
Barrington ground his teeth in frustration as they began their descent. So that was why additional explosions continued to rattle the complex. He knew who the gunships belonged to. Only Damien Acosta would be arrogant enough to attack Dominion headquarters so openly. The renegade mutant had been building up to this for months, making guerilla strikes of increasing boldness on Dominion holdings utilizing teams of operatives grafted with strands of mutant DNA. If he didn't know better Barrington would have suspected Acosta of joining forces with Mutant X, using them as his stalking horse to take down Dominion defenses, but that couldn't be. This attack must have been planned for some time, whereas Mutant X only moved after two of their number had been taken into custody. The timing was just pure bad luck, or perhaps Acosta merely took advantage of the circumstances. He would know soon enough.
After a few minutes the elevator eased to a smooth stop. The doors opened to reveal an open area about the size of a basketball court, low ceilinged and framed in concrete, with a wide tunnel jutting off to one side. Lined up facing the tunnel mouth were three armored Hummer 3s, their heavily-armed drivers standing in front of them, looking quite formidable in the charcoal gray body suits worn by the Dominion's elite troops. Barrington strode imperiously up to the lead vehicle and climbed in, not even deigning to observe the others being bundled into the remaining Hummers with different degrees of solicitude. He just ordered his driver to get moving.
The small convoy traveled down the long escape tunnel, the track lighting in the ceiling throwing flashes of light almost like a strobe ball as they sped along, the sounds of battle fading behind them. Barrington ignored it, his own thoughts on the situation at hand. He hadn't expected to have to deal with both Acosta and Mutant X at the same time, but it could be managed. Mutant X was the weaker of the two foes, and now that they were without their home base, they were vulnerable and no doubt on the run. With the Dominion's vast resources it shouldn't be difficult to locate and secure them. First, though, he had to deal with Damien Acosta, and to do that he had to get to their fallback facility, codenamed 'Palinor'. He just wished he didn't have to divide his forces right now. From the sound of things outside, he might need all the firepower he could muster.
In point of fact, though, he couldn't have done things any other way. The timing had been forced upon him. It had only recently been brought to his attention that before he disappeared, Adam Kane had been able to calculate with uncanny precision when each member of Mutant X would have the inherent instability of their mutant genetic structure spin fatally out of control. On the heels of that was the even more astounding news that Jesse Kilmartin had already passed his so-called expiry date, indicating that he had been cured. Barrington had to act quickly. He instructed Stephen Thornton, the Council's liaison with Mutant X, to order Lexa Pierce to deliver the molecular mutant to the Dominion. Thornton warned him that it would bring the formidable team down on their heads, but Barrington couldn't see where he had any other choice. Acosta's mole on the Council still hadn't been identified. Kilmartin, with his stable genetic structure, was too great a prize to risk having Acosta get his hands on him first.
As for Mutant X, Barrington conceded that they could be trouble, but with Lexa Pierce reassigned to a Dominion in-house strike team and Kilmartin in custody, the team would be split in half, their considerable threat ratio minimized. Fox and Mulwray could then be collected separately. He had always planned to terminate the mutant team eventually, when their usefulness to the Dominion came to an end; the news about Kilmartin's cure merely precipitated matters. Lexa's rebellion, though somewhat surprising, wasn't entirely unanticipated. What he hadn't foreseen was the depth of Lexa's treachery. The computer virus she downloaded into their system had opened the door to Acosta's attack. Vital communications and electronic defenses had been rendered inoperative, allowing the renegade to sweep in with greatly diminished resistance.
This was turning out to be a fiasco of epic proportions. Despite all the security measures they had in place, the Dominion headquarters was lost. The rest of the Council should be safe; they would have been evacuated first thing via other underground routes. Other personnel would gather at predetermined staging areas. Emergency protocols would have done a complete system wipe, although how successful that would be in light of Lexa's virus was open to question.
As bad as it was, the situation could have been worse. The Creator was safe, and with him, all his research. The widespread fires would destroy everything, denying the facility and its data to Acosta. Plus, they managed to acquire Adam Kane, something they had been trying to accomplish for more than a year. The Creator had insisted that he needed his creation to achieve his ambition of attaining total mastery of the human genetic code, of creating a race of genetically perfect and superior beings. Kane would no doubt refuse to help, but Barrington didn't think he would have any difficulty in getting him to cooperate. His own sentimentality and his feelings toward the freaks he created were his weakness. All he had to do was torture one or more of them before Kane's eyes, and the scientist would capitulate quickly enough.
The important thing now was to get to Palinor. Once there he could assess the damage to the organization and marshal resources from across the country, even worldwide. Every one of Acosta's known locations would immediately be attacked, their data and resources plundered, and then razed to the ground. Every surviving senior level operative would be relentlessly interrogated and then dispatched. They had to root out this cancer once and for all, destroy every single cell, overwhelm him by sheer weight of numbers. Nor would there be any taking of prisoners, not even Acosta himself. This was now war to the death.
The concrete floor began to slope gradually upward. Presently they came to a set of thick steel doors with a red sensor like the eye of a great metal Cyclops pulsing above it. The convoy slowed to a halt. Barrington pulled back his sleeve and punched a code into the device on his wrist. The light blinked twice, and then with a groan the doors slid ponderously aside. Twenty feet beyond was a second pair as tall and thick as the first. Again they halted, and again Barrington punched in a code, different from the first. As before the doors parted.
The Hummers drove through and came to a stop inside what looked like a cavernous warehouse. At the far end was an enormous garage-type door that retracted along tracks in the grimy ceiling. A sign outside proclaimed it to be a distribution facility for low-end furniture, but instead of large shipping cartons and pallets of product, the cement floor was dotted with a variety of airships. The most impressive of the group was the one that stood before them, a black helicopter with an opaque windshield and slowly rotating blades, its sleek lines only somewhat marred by the weaponry bristling from both sides. Barrington stepped out of his Hummer, his eyes warming at the sight of it. He'd always had a soft spot for this particular craft. It was both elegant and lethal, a dichotomy he always appreciated.
As he strode toward it, the big door at the far end of the hanger began to rise, the metal moaning its reluctance to move. Beyond it the sound of rotors could be heard, and two helicopters, resting on their skids, their blades not quite stopped, faced the warehouse, their spotlights spilling their glow across the floor in a widening pool. A heavy gust of wind rushed into the space, bringing in a swirling curtain of grit that made Barrington raise his arm to shield his eyes. When he could see again he beheld the figure of a man standing alone silhouetted against the backlight. Barrington had no doubt who it was.
The security detail reacted instantly. Kane and the Creator were thrust back into their respective Hummers for safety, and the lethal sound of multiple weapons being cocked crackled ominously through the air. Before a single gun could fire a pair of blurs swept in from either side of the solitary figure and pounced upon the Dominion agents, wresting the weapons from their collective grasps in the blink of an eye. The bodyguards found themselves staring incredulously at their empty hands. When Barrington's mind caught up with what little his eyes had seen, he beheld two men festooned with Dominion-issue weapons standing on either side of the silhouetted man.
He started forward now, and as he strode confidently across the hanger others appeared from the lights and fell in behind him, a rough, gritty-looking bunch that looked more like a street gang than high-level operatives. Their torn jeans, garish tattoos and unsavory appearance were in jarring contrast to their leader's flawless and extremely expensive attire. He came to a halt ten feet in front of the Dominion group. A second man, somewhat better dressed than the rest in khakis and a sport shirt, stopped two paces back, with the rest of his minions fanning out behind him.
"How did you find us?" Barrington snarled.
"Do you refer to Dominion Headquarters or this supposedly innocent commercial structure?" Damien Acosta, for that was who it was, shrugged lightly. "A good strategist learns everything he can about his opponent before engaging him. I have studied your organization for a very long time. I know your strengths, your weaknesses, and a great many of your secrets. For example, this underground escape route."
"In other words, your spy on the Council told you."
Acosta merely smiled, his white teeth gleaming in contrast to his deep mocha skin.
Barrington felt his rage building, hot but impotent. With his men disarmed, and facing what were no doubt a pack of Acosta's manufactured mutants, he was helpless to do anything but bluster, but he had to know. Though he was well aware his life was now measured in minutes, still he demanded, "Who is it?"
The other's smile widened. "What difference does it make? Your headquarters is destroyed, your Council scattered, and very soon your hidden empire will cease to exist. The Dominion's days of arbitrarily deciding who does what in the scientific world, and who lives or dies, are through."
"Supplanted by yourself, I suppose."
Acosta's expression hardened. "Why not? At least mutantkind won't be pawns in your never-ending chess game, nor will we be mere lab rats in your filthy experiments. It ends here."
"Really? What do you call your grafted freaks over there?"
"I call them employees who chose to take advantage of an opportunity that was offered to them." Acosta opened his hands, the gesture encompassing his minions. "Chose, Barrington, not had it forced on them. Therein is the difference between us."
"Liar! The timing of your raid couldn't be more transparent. Or was it just coincidence that you attacked right after we acquired Jesse Kilmartin? You want him just as badly as we do, and for the same reason!"
"Of course it wasn't coincidence." Acosta's smile returned, became mocking. "Anyone with half a brain could have predicted that Mutant X would retaliate if you attacked them. I merely took advantage of your stupidity and allowed them to weaken your defenses before ordering my people in. That your headquarters is now in flames is entirely due to your own arrogance in underestimating both Mutant X's abilities and their strength of will. How you ever became the Council Master is beyond me." One long finger reached up to stroke his chin thoughtfully. "I wonder who they will choose to replace you."
The implication couldn't have been plainer if it had been posted on a highway billboard. Barrington paled, but he stood his ground.
"Killing me will gain you nothing. The Dominion has more resources than you can possibly imagine. No matter where you go, or how many grafted thugs you create, the Council will hunt you and your freaks down like rabid dogs."
Acosta shook his head. "Empty threats, Barrington? Somehow I expected more eloquence from you." He gestured to his aide, who promptly stepped to his side.
"Sims, have Dietz and Goff drive the Creator to my helicopter and help him aboard. Remind them that the gentleman is extremely old and very fragile. I expect them to handle him as if he were a Ming vase. Then gather up the others and hold them until we leave."
"Yes, sir."
The lieutenant stepped off smartly, singling out two of the men and giving them their instructions. At his next command the rest of the squad moved to encircle the Dominion agents. As a hint to their prisoners, one of them brought his hands together and created little tongues of flame, which he held in his palms. The agents got the message.
Adam had been close enough to hear the exchange between Acosta and Barrington. Now as the two grafted mutants climbed into the vehicle with the Creator and drove it toward the waiting helicopters, he opened the door of his Hummer and got out, marching right up to the mutant.
"Where are you taking him?" he demanded. Although he had never met Damien Acosta, he knew of him, enough to realize that he was about to exchange one captor for another. He also knew that Acosta likely wanted him for the same reason as the Dominion, so he wasn't concerned for his physical safety. He just wanted to make sure that he and the Creator ended up in the same place. He needed that matrix.
The polished mutant greeted him warmly.
"Ah, Dr. Kane. It is an honor to finally meet you." He extended his hand, which Adam promptly ignored. Truculence radiated off him like sunlight from glass.
"What are you going to do with him? And with me?"
"We'll get to that in due time, Doctor. Welcome to my organization. We have similar goals, you and I, and although I know you have no reason to trust me at present, I'm sure we can come to a mutually advantageous agreement toward attaining those goals. In the meantime….don't do that."
Acosta's head suddenly lifted toward the vehicle he so recently quitted. One of the Dominion operatives, attempting to take advantage of the distraction Kane was providing, had been unobtrusively edging his way to the still-open door of the vehicle, no doubt toward the weapon Adam remembered seeing there. He froze now, his body quivering with barely-suppressed frustration and rage. His eyes darted back and forth between Acosta and the open door, as if measuring the distance and weighing his chances.
"You wouldn't make it, you know," Damien said to him, and there seemed to be a touch of regret in his voice. He sighed. "But I suppose I should remove the temptation."
He gestured. The Dominion operative went rigid, as if seized in an invisible grip. He then rose into the air and sailed gently over the Hummer, coming to a hovering stop before elegant mutant.
"I respect your devotion to duty," Damien said to the man dangling above him, "Truly, I do. As such, I would even consider employing you … any of you," he added, raising his voice to include the captives now seated on the floor with their hands clasped on the backs of their heads, "….in my organization." He returned his attention to the one hovering before him. "Right now, though, I'm afraid I can't allow you to cause difficulties."
He gestured again. The operative convulsed once and went still. Acosta lowered him carefully to the ground, where he sprawled bonelessly. A couple of his comrades started to rise, but slowly sank back to the ground when confronted by Acosta's guards brandishing myriad forms of energy in their hands. Appalled by the brutal callousness of the act, Adam whirled on the telekinetic.
"Murderer!" he spat.
The mutant shook his head. "Calm yourself, Doctor Kane. He isn't dead, merely stunned. You may examine him yourself, if you like. Unlike Barrington here, I don't kill just to satisfy a whim."
Adam didn't believe that for a minute, but he didn't waste his breath refuting it. One didn't argue with sociopaths. Instead, he immediately knelt down beside the fallen operative and began searching for a heartbeat. To his immense relief, he detected a strong pulse. Respiration was also regular, and though unconscious, his color was decent. Adam rose slowly.
"Am I supposed to be impressed?"
Damien shrugged. "Suit yourself. However, it's getting late, and we really must be on our way." He waved his hand, indicating that Adam should precede him. Realizing that he had no choice, Adam contented himself with a fulminating glare at his new captor and started off in the direction indicated, with Acosta a couple of steps behind. Sims ranged up behind Barrington, taking him by the arm and leading him off. Two more grafted street thugs completed the procession, falling into step on either side as the party marched across the hanger to the pair of waiting helicopters.
Author's note: I know that the pace here is slower than what my readers are used to from me, but since the series has been off the air for eleven years, I felt that a recap (with my own twist) was warranted. Chapter 3 will see the action pick up considerably.
