Samantha Reston wasn't surprised by Jace Turner's earlier reaction. Her superior wasn't happy about being assigned to work with a mutant but that was nothing new. If Reston had a nickel every time a co-worker felt uncomfortable around her after finding out she was a mutant, she could retire and purchase her own private island. It was just something you eventually get used to. Sentinel Services was probably the last place anyone would expect a mutant to work for but Reston wasn't your typical mutant.

It technically wasn't illegal for one to work for Sentinel Services but it wasn't exactly encouraged either. There wasn't another mutant in the agency, at least not one that openly admits they're a mutant. Sentinel Services wasn't comfortable with having someone with extraordinary abilities when they were tasked with dealing with such individuals in the first place. However Reston's success in Chicago at least convinced the suits above here paygrade to keep her on the payroll. Her mutant ability was useful against mutant criminals but that wasn't why she joined the agency. It had more to do with Reston's background in law enforcement and her own personal experiences with mutants.


Columbus, Ohio-Three Years Ago

"A treadmill?" Officer Samantha Reston nearly burst into laughter in her police cruiser.

"We both agreed we needed to replace the old one," protested Officer Teddy Woods before he took another bite of his meat loaf sandwich.

"You bought your wife a treadmill for her birthday?" Reston chuckled. Her partner of four years had a good heart but sometimes he could be lacking in brains when it came to the opposite sex.

"You're acting like I implied something about her weight. I didn't. All I did was buy something we both agreed we needed to get," Woods grumbled.

"I guarantee you Debbie didn't see it that way," smirked Reston, enjoying every second of this.

"She thanked me but gave me that particular look that means 'I screwed up' the rest of the night," sighed Woods.

"You bought your wife a treadmill," Reston chuckled, unable to stop herself from laughing again.

"Oh shut up," muttered Woods.

"Dispatch to all available units. We have a 10-43 at Roosevelt High School. All available units to Roosevelt High. Waiting on additional," the police radio announced. Jesus, a school shooting.

The two partners exchanged a concerned look before Woods started the car and Reston grabbed the speaker microphone. "Dispatch this is 4-4. We are on route," she reported.


"Good morning everyone," Michael Davidson announced. Dozens of Sentinel Services' most senior local agents including Jace Turner and Samantha Reston were crammed into the agency conference room.

"For the past several weeks, the Mutant Underground has gotten bolder in their attacks. The recent attack on a prison convoy and abduction of one of our own only proves they're getting more dangerous," Davidson explained.

Reston noticed everyone else glancing at Jace. From what she heard, the mutants abducted him and used some ability that messed with his mind. They were probably trying to read his mind and access his memories because if they simply wanted to scramble his memory about who took him, shooting him would have been much easier. However Jace's memory of the event was foggy, making figuring out what the mutants wanted impossible.

"Which is why I've brought in a specialist to help us take them down. This is Special Agent Samantha Reston who just transferred in from the Chicago Field Office," Davidson introduced the new agent. "She worked undercover in the Mutant Underground for three years. She knows how they think and how they operate."

Reston didn't need telepathy to know what her new co-workers thought of her. They fought criminal mutants for a living every day and now a mutant was sharing an office space with them. Things were bound to get tense. As soon as Reston arrived, the workplace gossip went into overdrive and now everyone here knew who she was. Still this was nothing new. When she started working for Sentinel Services, Reston learned to just deal with such talk. She didn't get into this job to win a popularity contest.

"Every cell in the Underground operates independently of each other with multiple cut outs required to go through in order for them to communicate with each other. However, from what I saw in Chicago and from what other agents across the country observed is that cells tend to have the same MO. First, they have a base of operations. Somewhere their members can hide out while also hiding mutants they're smuggling out of the area. These places need to be isolated as a lot of mutants who pass through them can't always control their powers. That tends to make a lot of noise which would draw too much attention if it was near the public," explained Reston.

"The Chicago cell operated out of an abandoned paper mill outside the city. This cell will probably be hiding someplace similar. Large enough to hold a dozen or more individuals and away from public scrutiny. Look for large buildings that are either abandoned, foreclosed, or in a kind of legal limbo in terms of ownership. The other thing that they tend to do is stock up on supplies to allow them to bunker down. However, feeding possibly dozens of people three times a day requires a lot of food which is why is you need to check for canned foods," continued Reston.

"I'm sorry. Canned foods?" asked Jace.

"Canned foods can last a long time without expiring, easy to store, and they're cheap. Now while some cells pay for their food with cash, most don't have that kind of money to pay for so many meals so check grocery stores and supermarkets to see if they've encountered carts going missing or increases in shoplifting activity. If mutants find a security lapse they can exploit in such stores, most are so desperate that they will not stop utilizing it even when it runs the risk of getting caught. They could also have sympathizers aiding them. The Chicago cell got food from a homeless shelter so check ones in the local county as well as churches. Though it's possible they might be getting their food from outside the county, it's not likely. That would require multiple trips which means gas money, car maintenance, and a vehicle big enough to carry the shipments. All of which requires money which most of them don't have. They might steal a vehicle for one such job but not repeatedly. That would draw too much attention so if they are getting resources from other counties, they're using one of their own vehicles," answered Reston.

"One of the mutants operated a bar. Maybe that's where they got their food," suggested an agent.

"Unlikely but possible. Assuming it was through, it's been shut down which means they'll need a new source of food," replied Reston.

"Alright people get back to work," Davidson spoke up. "I want these bastards caught yesterday. The Enhanced Patriot Act is in effect so do whatever it takes to find them. Dismissed."


After the meeting, Reston spent several hours going over paperwork of the various mutants and known sympathizers along with their family and friends regardless of whether they were involved in the underground or not. The Enhanced Patriot Act permitted such overbearing searches but was rarely utilized as most law enforcement departments were too afraid of getting into a legal battle with a civil liberties group. Reston was just glad she wasn't in the Sentinel Services Legal Department.

She was currently shifting through papers that covered social media activity, phone records, credit card records, and so much more. It amazed her how much of one person's life could be kept in physical and digital records. Reston was trying to find links between them that might give her a lead such as where the mutants were getting their food, their money, where they could be hiding, or who could be helping them. Any lead at this point would be welcome with both Turner and Davidson on the warpath.

Mentally exhausted going through so much information, Reston decided it was time for a break and headed to the office lounge to get a cup of coffee. As she exited her office, she started to have a gut feeling. It was the sensation she felt whenever a mutant was near. Someone must have just brought in a suspect for interrogation or booking.

Reston was halfway to her destination, passing by Agent Turner's office.

"You let them escape!" Turner's voice could be heard inside. That stopped Reston in her tracks. Her new boss sounded pissed and she could only think of one reason why. It had to involve the Mutant Underground.

"Road block and checkpoints on every major road and intersection within a twenty five mile radius and somehow you let them slip right by while driving a semi-truck!" shouted Turner.

"We have no idea what the mutants were capable of. We weren't prepared for what happened," protested a male voice.

"You're Sentinel Services! It's your job to be prepared for things like this!" snapped Turner. He was livid, especially considering his recent circumstances. The Mutant Underground kidnapped and tortured him.

"We're canvassing the entire neighborhood and checking every traffic camera…" the male voice spoke.

"If that's going on why are you still here? Go help," demanded Turner.

Upon hearing footsteps, Reston moved hastily down the hallway to avoid getting spotted. The last thing she needed was her superior to catch her spying on his meeting. It sounded like Sentinel Services had located several suspects and attempted to apprehend them without success. What Reston wanted to know was why didn't they inform her of the situation? She could have helped them deal with any mutant threats thrown their way. The answer was obvious, they didn't want her help. It never ceased to infuriate Reston how stupid some of her fellow agents could be. Being a mutant didn't make her the enemy.

Reston turned a corner and came to a sudden halt when she bumped into someone. A plastic cup of coffee dropped to the floor, spilling its contents. Its owner stared at the mess on the floor then glanced up at Reston. He was older, probably late forties with short brown hair and a beard. His suit was professional but didn't look like an agent. Please don't be brass from DC.

"I am so sorry," gasped Reston.

Strangely enough, he smiled. "Are you Agent Samantha Reston?" he asked.

"Uh…yes," nodded Reston.

"My name is Doctor Frederick Campbell. I've been looking forward to meeting you," the man said, holding out his hand. Reston then noticed Campbell had someone else with him. The escort also wore an expensive suit but his skin was unnaturally pale and he had an empty stare in his eyes as if there was no soul. He gave Reston the creeps.

Still Reston didn't let that distract her as she shook Campbell's hand.