Chapter 8
Raven, Alex, Hank and Sean stood together at the air base, all suited up and half-asleep. Moira stood opposite them, arms folded.
"It's 5:30am. It's really not that early," she stated, raising her eyebrows.
Sean scoffed and Alex moaned, the red-head lolling his head to one side to rest on Alex's shoulder. The team heard footsteps and alerted themselves, knowing that Erik wouldn't approve of their tiredness.
"We're all set," the metal manipulator said bluntly, his voice expressing no emotion, "let's go."
Without uttering another word, the team followed Erik to Hank's Blackbird II. Everyone boarded accordingly, Erik making sure everyone was on. Raven stopped to talk to Erik before getting on.
"I know how much Charles means to you," she started, "but promise me you won't just charge in, all guns blazing, without thinking about it first. If Shaw somehow manages to capture you too, we'll be useless. Charles wouldn't want you getting hurt, and you know he wouldn't."
Erik smiled at her; for a young girl, Raven spoke with such authority and reassurance. So much so that her little speech actually made Erik feel less angry.
"It's okay, Raven," he said, "thank you." She smiled back at him and the pair boarded the plane, Erik following her. They strapped themselves in as Hank ignited the engine, the plane roaring into life. It sounded much more powerful than the previous model and as it pulled out of the airbase and took off into the sky, Erik felt slightly proud of Hank for making such a machine. His fatherly instincts must be beginning to kick in, he thought.
X...X
Shaw strutted down the corridor of his base, a spring in his step. His ingenious plan had worked; capturing the World's most powerful telepath and his bastard offspring. Perfect. He approached the two large, wooden double doors at the end of the winding corridor. They flew open with the slightest touch, revealing a room packed full of male workers. Shaw practically danced into the room up to the head labourer.
"Progress?" Shaw enquired.
"12 hours ahead of schedule, sir," the small man replied, "another 24 and it should be fully calibrated and ready for use."
"The telepath should be prepared quite soon, then?"
"Yes, sir," the worker nodded, his dirty glasses slipping down his freckle-covered nose, "as soon as possible, really. The child will need to be at least a few hours old."
Shaw smiled and turned, ready to walk away. "Then prepare him. Do whatever is necessary. Now." He left the room, feeling incredibly satisfied with himself. The head labourer scouted his vision across the crowded room quickly, spotting the man he was searching for.
"Dr. Engel!" He called, waving the other man over. "You're needed in Room 24A. It's time."
X...X
Charles hadn't realised he'd been drugged until he regained consciousness and realised he was lying in a different room; both cleaner and warmer. He found an oxygen mask had been attached around his head, steadying his breathing. His eyelids felt heavy, the telepathy-preventing contraption still strapped firmly to his head. Charles tried to look around, forcing his gaze around the room and trying to ignore the pounding headache. A wide, blue curtain cut his line of vision off from his lower half. He couldn't see his swelling abdomen. He couldn't see his son.
What the hell is going on?
He saw two men and two females standing with their backs to him on the other side of the sterilised room, hearing the clanging of metal tools and recognising one of the men to be Shaw. All four of them turned simultaneously in an intimidating manor. The group all had surgical gloves and masks on, the realisation of what was going on hitting Charles like a tonne of bricks.
A Caesarean Section? Oh my God...no no no, it's too early. They can't.
"You can't do this!" Charles yelled, "You can't!"
The telepath twisted and struggled underneath the leather binds that held him down, not wanting to put his son through the trauma of being introduced to the World in this horrific way. One of the midwives was pushed forward by Shaw, the woman hesitantly forcing a needle into Charles' arm, the sedative taking over his mind and body. The telepath felt his muscles being forced to relax against his will, the fear and anxiety of what was about to unfold felt like it was filling his veins. He screamed out words in his mind like 'no, no, Erik, please' over and over but trying with the remainder of his strength not to use his powers in case of electric shocks from the machine on his head.
"That drug should hold him whilst we carry out the procedure," Dr. Engel told Shaw who acknowledged with a nod, "we are ready to begin." The Doctor's voice shook, most likely from having Shaw stood towering over him.
"Then proceed," Sebastian replied with a harsh and determined tone.
Charles felt a sharp pinch in his lower back as he lost all feeling in the bottom half of his body, the feeling of anxiety clogging his upper half. The sedative kept his panic under control, however, but it wasn't powerful enough to prevent his dynamic mind from reeling with terror. What if something went wrong? What in the hell were they planning to do with his child? Charles' mind tried to eliminate all negative thoughts and think positively as the sound of metal clanked together, the three doctors all whispering things to each other as the operation went on. Shaw stared at the telepath for the majority of the setup, his gaze averting to Charles' abdomen every now and again. Charles tried to imagine Erik sitting next to him, grasping his cold, shaking hand and telling him that everything's fine; everything was going to work out the way things should...the way they deserve. The telepath allowed the tears he'd held back to fall from his brilliant blue eyes, as his head rolled to the side, the tears rolling straight down his pale cheeks and over his freckled nose.
The sudden cry of his son was the last thing the telepath heard before the final dose of the sedative took over his mind.
