It wasn't long after Powers began driving did the intensity of the situation take control of him, and it wasn't long after that did he notice that his car's tank had begun leaking gasoline. In the black of night he got out of the car to see that his tank had been punctured with some kind of object. Within forty-five minutes of him driving off the car was unusable. Fortunately for him there was a small inn near where his car had stalled and he stayed there for the night. Sleep didn't come at all; he spent most of the night going over what to say at the regional Special Forces offices in Manhattan the next day. In his career with Special Forces he had only been to three regional offices: Manhattan, San Francisco and Austin. Those three times had all been in protocol. The offices were 'hidden' so to speak; being that they didn't draw ant attention to their location. The only people interested in Special Forces business were people already in Special Forces, therefore the only people who knew where the Special Forces offices were people already in Special Forces.

The next day Powers used a cab to drive into the city and called the local authorities to tow his car away. When he entered the city Powers quickly moved downtown to 90 Broad Street. At the counter he announced he wish to be let into suite 1002. The clerk gave him a curious look before denying him.

"There is no suite 1002" the Clerk answered, Powers shook his head and leaned in closer to the clerk.

"Listen I've got very important business to attend to…" Powers stated with a tinge of malice. "…I need to be admitted into suite one thousand two right now." The clerk didn't deviate from the curious look; but, became more confident in his answer.

"Sir I've already told you. There is no such Suite in this building…" The clerk touched the phone. "…If you keep insisting I'll have to call the police." It was then that Powers recalled that there was a protocol to follow when coming into the offices on one's own.

First it was not encouraged for Special Forces agents to come to any regional office by themselves without permission. Contact via text messaging was the only form of contact between offices and agents. If there was no other option then agents could come in; but, there was a code they would have to pass along before gaining accesses to the suite.

"Brooklyn Bridge is burning" Powers recited; the clerk's face changed all together and he bit his top lip. The clerk picked up the phone and dialed; for a moment he was quite.

"This is the directory…" The clerk started. "…someone here who wants to be admitted…" Another pause.
"…Brooklyn Bridge is burning," the clerk repeated. "…what's your name?" The clerk asked Derek.

"Powers"

"Powers…" the clerk recited; another longer pause. "…yes, I see. I will."

Powers questioned in his mind what the last words were about. "Yes, I see. I will" what could have prompted that answer and what did it mean? The clerk gave a non-verbal answer allowing Powers upstairs.

Power got into an elevator and proceeded to the tenth floor.

Special Forces was split into two very different fifteen years; while one branch essentially was a super division of Army, Navy and Air Force commanders, the other was less regal. Special Forces (Home), as it was sometimes called, was used to combat enemies within the country that might have some sort of natural or unnatural advantage over the regular statesmen who protected it, that being the police, federal marshals, F.B.I., C.I.A. and other divisions like those. That was to put a safe guard against "new" enemies that had just appeared in the last decade and a half.

In the preceding fifteen years terrorism had made its way to American soil; such as car bombings and things of the like. Special Forces was redeployed in several divisions that came back to home soil to protect it from on-soil attacks while the C.I.A. kept itself busy trying to intercept attacks from outside of the country. "Domestic" terrorist, as they're called, had sprung up in alarming numbers, many blamed it on the rapid oppression of several minority groups and the demand for equality to become a staple in American culture again. Be that as it may; terrorism had exploded from just being Islamic extremist to different kinds of socio-economic and ethnic groups attacking the country from within.

In fact radical Islam had taken a back seat to the newly erupted trend of domestic terrorism, being that the Middle East region was going through the same revolutions as America and the rest of the world. America found itself being the lead example, more than ever, for ridding oppressions. America's; however, lead had not been as grand as it could be and the world seemed to be spiraling in the wrong direction.

It wasn't specifically special forces problem; what the executive branch of the Federal Government decided to do with people was their problem and Special Forces was there to keep people from dying or, if need be, making sure the right people did.

The elevator door opened slowly and Derek walked slowly. Each floor held several small suites that were spread out. Derek made a left and walked over to the door that had no number. On the right side of the door there was a small panel that seemed to not be functioning; but, upon further use with an Identification Card the panel lit up and the door was released from its electronic lock.

Special Forces wasn't a busy place like other government agencies. Most of the work came from an operating Headquarters somewhere in the middle of the country. The most powerful people in Special Forces stayed worked in the headquarters in New York and the other states; the New York regional division was the second most powerful of the divisions. Knowing his place and what was going to come next Derek sat down in on a small sofa and waited to be helped.

Exactly forty-five seconds later a young male receptionist came and looked over some files and then at Derek. There was a pause and then the young man began to talk.

"Mr. Powers you were not summoned to this office and it isn't proper procedure to show up here unannounced." The young man began; Derek stood up and adjusted his collar. He should have expected to be scolded by someone before actually getting to see a superior.

"I understand that; but, I came here on an urgent matter that I didn't feel was safe enough to discuss on a telephone." Derek responded. The young man shook his head and seemed unfazed by the explanation.

"That may be very true; but, if there was a problem this severe we would have known about it already…" the young man began. "…it's unsettling that you would put the entire office in danger by being so reckless. You're training-" The young man was suddenly stifled by Derek's sternness.

"My training was something you wouldn't be able to understand…" Derek began. "…my training did exclude me from having to have arguments with people like you. You know as well as I do that if I wasn't going to be seen by someone; I would have been out by now." The pause hung in the air for a long moment that seemed to last forever, when it was over the young man's face melted into submission.

"In three minutes you have a meeting with Ms. Greene." The young man began to walk away, anticipating confrontation.

"Greene...?" Derek asked quickly. "…I need to see Rutherford." Derek added. Before turning around completely the young man shook his head.

"You're lucky enough to have this meeting…" He said. "…Rutherford doesn't have time to deal with any person who stumbles in here." He walked away.

Special Forces was punctual, exactly three minutes went by and Derek was called into to see Samantha Greene.

Greene has been one of the first people assigned to the home division of Special Forces. She had served as Director of Homeland Security for three terms under two different presidents before agreeing to take the post in Special Forces. Though she was smart and sophisticated many believed she didn't have the ruthlessness to protect the country from its own people. A lot of people sympathized with the new 'domestic' terrorist citing that they were only striking against a government that was allowing for bigotry and hatred against their people and while that might be true, Greene still had the job of keeping the innocent people safe. That possible understanding of the 'enemy' didn't lend well to Greene in her position; but, instead of getting rid of her and seeming ruthless the government installed higher positions and bogged down her power.

When Derek walked in Greene welcomed him with a warm smile and gestured to a seat across from her.

"It's good to see you Derek…" Greene started. "…but you're coming in worries me." She added.

"Yes well I had a terrible emergency last night." Derek started.

"What happened?" Greene asked.

"My son last night was kidnapped…" Derek began; Greene's face instantly showed surprised.

"That's terrible."

"…it is; but, the reason why I brought it here is because at the exact time he was taken I was out on an erroneous summons." Derek explained.

"Erroneous…?" Greene asked quietly. "…That's uncommon."

"Those are my feelings as well…" Derek said. "…I don't think it was a coincidence."

"You think the summon was a distraction?" Greene qualified in a low tone.

"I do; but…" Derek lowered his tone to her level. "…I don't know why Special Forces would be interested in distracting me from the kidnapping of my son." Derek became silent. The weight of the situation was starting to press against his chest, he knew if he didn't calm down he may give himself a panic attack. Greene sighed.

"That is very strange…" Greene's faced seemed to turn to intrigue. "…I wonder if-" before she could go on the door opened and the young man stood in the doorway.

"Mr. Rutherford will see you." The young man said; Powers and Greene both stared at the young man for a long moment; before Powers turned to Greene shook her hand and walked out.

Powers took the short trip to Rutherford office alone. Before entering the office Powers suddenly realized how nervous he was going to meet the regional director of Special Forces. In the excitement of wanting to get his son back he had put protocol and consequence onto the back burner, he didn't take the time to realize the amount of danger he could be putting himself in, if he made the wrong move with Special Forces they wouldn't hesitate to expel him from his position and the reach of their power was frightening. Derek had to remember who he was dealing with and what the consequences of going too far could be. If he wanted the truth he couldn't barge into the offices and demand something be done about his missing son. At the same time Greene seemed to think something was afoot as well. What was she going to say before they were interrupted? Special Forces didn't make mistakes like the one that happened last night and for his son to be kidnapped the way he was at the exact same time as the summon was too strange to be coincidental.

Derek moved into the office quickly and stood at attention while Rutherford tapped on his computer in silence. It took a long three minutes for Rutherford to acknowledge that Powers had walked into the room, even then he didn't talk to him, and he merely looked up and made a low grunt and continued back to his computer. Derek was unsure what to do; it would possible that Derek could stand in the office for an hour and be dismissed without any words being said; didn't have the authority to demand anything; but, he didn't have patience to not get answers either.

"Do you know how many active Special Forces Agents we have in this country?" Rutherford suddenly asked; Derek was taken aback by the sudden words and had to think for a moment.

"Not many…" Derek started, he thought for another moment. "…less than one hundred" he estimated. Rutherford shook his head in some form of disapproval.

"Less than fifty…" Rutherford further added to Derek statement. "…forty-three to b e exact, at least one in every major state and some agents double on their states" Rutherford completed his answer.

"I see."

"Do you know how many of those forty-three agents came into their regional offices without being summoned?" Rutherford continued. Derek sighed and looked away from Rutherford for a moment.

"None." He answered.

"Wrong…" Rutherford quickly corrected. "…two. Yourself and Agent Starland, who was dying from poisoning and wanted to relay information he found whilst on a mission." Rutherford explained.

"I really feel my reason for-" Derek started.

"…and even when Agent Starland came in dying his office turned him away and took a recording of his last words..." Rutherford continued without acknowledging that Powers had begun speaking. "…now I've spoken to come of my regional counter parts about your sudden dropping in and the majority of them feel you should be disciplined for your action…" Derek felt his heart drop and the panic began to set it. "…But you've done some great work in the past so I'm willing to hear what you have to say, so begin." Derek almost began to thank Rutherford for the chance to speak; but, it seemed better to just to talk.

"Last night I was contacted by H.Q. about a potential mission and instructed to make contact…" Derek started. "…I left my home to make contact on an instructed payphone; but, after inquiring into the details it was revealed to me that the summon was sent in error…" Derek took a discreet pause to see the surprise in Rutherford's face at the revelation that there was an error; but, there was none. "…I found it odd; but, continued home and when I arrived my son had been…" what word to use? "…abducted by…" Derek's throat closed up he felt he couldn't bring himself to say the word. Rutherford was just beginning to show some kind of interest; his eye brow rose.

"By…" he leaned closer over his desk.

"Sentinels." The word came out like an oversize lump, clumsy and slightly distorted. Rutherford nodded and leaned back, as if satisfied by something, he also nodded slowly and tapped his finger on the desk lightly.

"I see…" Rutherford stared directly into Derek's eyes. "…and what do you think this has to do with Special Forces?" He asked.

"The erroneous summon, was sent around the same time my son was taken." Derek explained; his patience and obedience was beginning to subside.

"So you're saying that you think the summon was sent with the expressed purpose of distracting you from your sons confiscation?" Rutherford asked. Derek was put off by the choice of words the man was using, "confiscation"?

"I do." Rutherford sighed and began to chuckle.

"Mr. Powers, when your wife died Special Forces was quick to support you in ways no other institution would even think about…" Rutherford began. "…we set you up with top mental and emotional support for the expressed reason of keeping you sane enough to take care of young Ashton and to continue doing the high caliber of work you were doing before her death." Derek was getting more and more frustrated as the conversation went on; he was afraid it was showing on his face and body language.

"What does any of this have to do with my son being kidnapped?" Derek asked.

"I will tell you…" Rutherford began. "…Special Forces never ask about what you do in your personal life, in fact we attempt to keep your life the way it was when we decided to put you on Special Forces, unless of course it's being detrimental to your body of work."

"My son was kidnapped-"

"…So in return Special Forces ask that its agents do the same…" Rutherford cleared his throat. "…What we do at S.F. is federal business, so when things happened we're really expecting our agents not to ask questions…" Rutherford continued.

"My son was kidnapped by Sentinels-"

"Let me make this clear. We don't know where you're son is, all we know is that he was, in fact, taken by Sentinels; but, you know that we don't handle or question captures from that branch." Rutherford was stern in his answer.

"The Sentinels were implemented to capture criminal mutants…" Derek explained. "… My son is not a mutant and most certainly hasn't committed a crime."

"Your son is only twelve years old; there wouldn't be any proof that he's or isn't a mutant until he turned thirteen years old."

"What does that even mean…?" Derek began to speak over Rutherford. "…that theory hasn't been proven and even if my son was a mutant he hasn't committed a crime; it's illegal to detain a minor especially one that has not committed a crime."

"We live in a dangerous world…" Rutherford began more loudly. "…These new terrorist have found themselves with an advantage over any agency that we have been able to create yet. There has to be something that we can combat in a serious and effective way." Rutherford continued. "If all lines of Protocol were followed when dealing with dangerous people, like mutants, we would be in a far worse position that we are in now."

"Are you excusing my son being kidnapped?" Powers felt his heart beginning to race; he couldn't think straight; the sudden realization that he wasn't going to get any answers made his heart burn with fear.

"All I'm saying is that you have unfortunately fallen in a very unfortunate part of our new reality…" Rutherford explained. "…Sooner or later you're going to have to face the facts about your son, once those people get taken into the world of Sentinels and homeland security they don't ever come back. Is it the perfect system? No it's not; but, in order to protect innocent lives we have to do something's that we won't always be proud of" Derek shook his head and moved closer to the door.

"You're saying I should forget about my son?" Derek asked.

"I'm saying that Special Forces and D-Branch rarely communicate with one another." Rutherford stated.

"D-Branch knows where my son is…" Derek spoke.

"D-Branch is the most protected Agency in the world…" Rutherford reaffirmed. "…They're not as accessible as Special Forces"

"It doesn't matter how I get there; but, I will if it means finding my son."

"I wouldn't suggest it…" Rutherford stood up. "…you're meddling with the protection of the country. People have been put down by the government for much less."

"I'm not letting them keep my son…" Derek explained with certainty. "…my son is not a mutant and has not done anything wrong." Rutherford shook his head and pointed a finger at Derek.

"I cannot let you go into D-Branch using Special Forces as a crutch…" Rutherford commanded. "…I'll need you gun and badge."Quickly Derek turned over the items, Rutherford took them and sat down. "Don't embarrass this office." Rutherford said quietly.

"I don't think I could anymore than it already is."

Derek turned out the door and the young man looked at him briefly before turning his face down and Derek walked out without another word. Unsure of how he was going to get his son back.