In the years since mutants had first begun to appear the Watchers had stepped up to watch them too. They had appointed themselves the unofficial chroniclers of new mutants, their locations, and their powers. They even monitored a few of the more powerful ones. Methos had dabbled with them for a time, joining their new branch and tailing around mutants. That was why he had been in that bar watching the mob on that fateful day that he had met Charles for the first time.
Because of his aptitude for finding new mutants, a product of previous experience with the watchers and his own rich history of avoiding detection, Methos was assigned to solve a riddle that had been plaguing the new Mutant branch of the watchers.
It seemed that an unusual number of young mutants were disappearing. They were literally falling off the map overnight.
Methos took it because it presented something of a challenge. At least it would be something to spice up his life. Recently his life had become somewhat… boring. That is to say.. uneventful and completely and mind numbingly empty.
No one to torment, no one to harass or annoy with vague suggestions, it was shameful.
It didn't take Methos long to find the pattern in the abductions. Whoever was taking the mutants obviously didn't think that someone would be looking for them. The area of abduction was wide, but it had clear boundaries. The majority of the mutants were taken in a 100 mile circular area. At the center, was the warehouse district in an obscure city, a likely staging place for this operation.
Methos was embarrassed by how easy it was to find out what was going on. Sigh.
It was easy enough to drive into the obscure town at the center of the circular abduction area. It was doubly easy to remotely hack into the power company's records and find out which of the warehouses was drawing the most power. Keeping that many mutants captive meant a lot of guards and a lot of lights. He'd have hacked the water company too but the power spike was so obvious that Methos felt no need to bother.
It was all too easy, all too quick. Methos felt his sense of foreboding rise. Pushing it back down Methos started preparing to infiltrate the warehouse. He figured this was just some rogue group who thought they were saving the world from mutants. It was probably just a couple of cages and a couple crazy people who could be reasoned with or dispatched quickly. If all else failed, Methos could at least call the police and have them do his dirty work. They wouldn't go out of their way for mutants but Methos only had to drop the words children and kidnapping and they would be out in no time. Certainly someone would have noticed and notified them that an unusually large number of kids had gone missing recently.
Just to be cautious, Methos dressed in his best stealthy gear, all black and silent… in other words… stealthy.
Methos went out at night, approaching the warehouse on foot. The outside windows were dark and grimy with no sign of light. Methos raised his estimation of their skill a little more. At least they knew enough to keep their captives towards the center of the building and away from the windows where they might be spotted by a passer by.
Methos crept stealthily up to a side access door and plied his lock picking skills on the rusty door lock. It gave way as easily as everything else in this investigation. Methos pulled back the rickety wood slowly, wary of creeks and found himself staring into a pitch black interior. Not a shred of light from any windows leaked inside. It even seemed like the light from outside the door didn't touch the gloom.
Swallowing his rising foreboding once again, Methos marched boldly inward. As soon as the door shut behind him, he was swallowed in the gloom. He could use a flashlight but that might reveal him, he had to keep the element of surprise.
Feeling along the wall he found a small patch of dots directly to the left of the door, at arm level. Methos recognized as braille within a few minutes of puzzling it out. Although his skills were rusty he was able to make it out…
One: Records
Two: Medical/Lab
Three: Bathroom
The list went on but Methos' heart stilled at the second line… Medical/Lab…
A sinking suspicion settled heavily onto his chest. A small exclamation escaped his lips… "Oh no…"
The visions of red-neck prejudice types whole up in rustic conditions with a couple of hostages suddenly disappeared from his mind. Disappearing mutant children plus medical could only mean one thing and it wasn't the pursuit of quality mutant health care… it meant experiments.
Methos had seen it before, especially at the beginning of the mutant era. Mutants used as lab rats for testing or in the pursuit of military uses.
Methos waged a brief private war with himself. It was obvious that something was going on here but finding out more or trying to intervene could, and most likely would, lead to pain and death. Pain and death versus walking away and working through whatever guilt he might feel by doing something else helpful for the next decade or so. The choice should have been an obvious one, in fact he was already turning to go back out the door when he heard a shrill scream ring in the darkness.
It was so full of emotion and pain and it shot right through Methos as sure as an arrow. Methos froze. Something inside him was stirring, a need to help, to free those children. His report had said that none of the captives were out of their teens. Most had just hit puberty, the prime age for mutant powers to emerge.
Deep down, Methos felt a certain affinity for these mutants. They carried a burden that he knew all too well, difference. Where had had watched countless generations of loved ones decay and fall to dust, they had to watch as everyone they had known turned their back on them, calling them freaks and buying into the current anti-mutant sentiment. They had to watch their race slandered by politicians and community leaders and even their own parents.
Methos paused with his hand on the doorjamb. The wood creaked under his fingers as he fought with himself. It was in his nature to run. It had been so for as long as he could remember. But this time maybe it was different, this time, maybe he shouldn't run.
Cursing, he turned back towards the braille sign. He knew this was going to lead to pain… Stupid old man, can't leave well enough alone…But, pain went away… the memory of that scream surely wouldn't.
It took only a few more moments to find the line in the concrete wall that led away into the darkness. Methos could not tell from the few noises that he did chance making just how big the area was that he was in, but he dared not take his hand away from the wall. It was possibly his only way back. As he walked along he felt a break in the line with a perpendicular intersecting line leading down and away. Above it was a single word in braille… One. And so the mystery was solved. Methos continued along the line, letting the cold concrete pass beneath his fingers. In no time he found another intersecting line, this one marked with the word 'two.' Methos grimaced… the end to this mystery was near… far too near. He was half hoping that finding the medical ward would prove impossible, unfortunately he was dealing with idiots.
He traced the line down the floor and beyond, leaving the comforting presence of the concrete outer wall he struck out into the darkness, his body crouched low, hand following the nearly undetectable line that ran off into the darkness. As he walked sounds began to make their way to him, more screams and moans. Shouts and low voices filtered through the darkness to caress his ears.
At least he knew he was going in the right direction.
Soon a light became visible and Methos felt a momentary sense of relief. The light consisted of a dull red glow that was coming from around what looked like an average size doorway, reaching it Methos felt around the door. It was nothing but cold concrete walls on either side, no more signs or anything.
Running his hands along the door itself he found the door knob. Mentally bracing himself, he turned the knob and pushed the door open just a small increment. Methos peeked cautiously in.
What he could see in that small slice of room almost made him want to tuck tail and run. It also, ironically, steeled his determination about what he should do.
Within his sight were several small cages the size of dog kennels. Children of varying ages and sex were crammed into them, stacked on top of one another like chicken's on a transport truck.
Most of them were crying or screaming but several of them were starring blankly off in the distance. Methos knew from studying the file on the kidnappings that some of their faces matched those in the files on the earliest taken.
These children who showed no signs of struggle were dressed in hospital robes. Their heads were shaven and an ugly scar ran across the front of their scalps as if someone had removed and replaced a front quarter of their skulls.
It was horrendous. Methos knew enough of what the Nazi's did to their captives in World War Two to know a frontal lobotomy when he saw one. These children had been raped in the worst way possible, their very personalities had been removed.
Opening the door the rest of the way Methos moved to stand in the door way. The rest of the room was worse. An operating table with dingy instruments. More children in cages. The smell of human filth was overwhelming and that was just the start. Many of the older girls huddled beaten in their cages, their lower clothing torn and stained with blood or worse.
Methos had apparently caught the night guard at an indisposed moment. The man was busy relieving himself on one of the mutants staring blankly at something only she could see. By the looks of her cage and hospital robe, it was a habitual thing for the guard.
Startled by Methos' unexpected entrance the man quickly collected himself and drew his weapon, pointing it at Methos. Methos noted that the man had a long machete hanging from his belt, that could prove problematic if he had the opportunity to draw it.
Not that he would get the opportunity.
"Hey are you the new guy?" The man asked, never dropping his gun.
Methos held out his hands and smiled as jovially as he could muster, "Yup, that's me."
"Yeah, well their ain't supposed to be a new guy, so I guess that makes you dead."
The man moved to shoot, obviously pleased with his elegant sentence and not wanting to ruin the mood with more word play. But, before he could squeeze the trigger Methos was moving. He rammed into the man, shoulder hitting him and knocking him against a wall of cages.
Methos completed his momentum and used it to force the man onto the ground. Grabbing the back of the man's head, Methos rammed it into the floor. Dazed but conscious the man continued to struggle. Methos held him pinned the ground with little effort. Despite the man's bulk, it was obvious that he hadn't really been working out lately. Grabbing the back of the Knife guy's neck, Methos rammed his head into the floor again, this time knocking him out cold.
Standing, Methos began searching the man's body for keys to the cages. Instead what he found was a remote clasped in the man's right hand, his thumb still pressed on the button. The device had a small light that was blinking rapidly. Methos looked around and didn't see any other blinking lights, nor did he hear any sound, but he knew from experience that that didn't mean an alarm hadn't been activated. Running to the only doorway, Methos shut the door quickly. Locating the lock, a simple dead bolt, he quickly turned the knob to lock it. That wouldn't hold them for long, but he could use all the time he could get.
Sprinting back to the body, Methos redoubled his efforts to find a key, he quickly located a card and walked up to a cage door, sliding the card in the lock, it sprang open instantly. He tried another cage, the same thing. As he moved to the third cage, he heard shuffling in the hallway outside. They were here.
Quickly, Methos showed one of the emerging children how to open the cages.
"Just open as many as you can, everyone stay back, I will try to clear us a path."
The child gestured at the children in hospital gowns with the blank expressions, "What about them?"
For the first time in eons, Methos choked back a small sob, "Leave them."
The child nodded, his eyes glistening suddenly with unshed tears.
Methos turned back to the door. He didn't feel like crying anymore. With the room of horrors at his back and untold numbers of foes before him, all he felt like was little gratuitous violence.
The door swung open and banged against the wall, the onslaught moved in immediately. The first six fell with bullet wounds to the chest. When the Knife guy's gun was empty, Methos waded in with his machete.
All the reinforcements were dressed in army fatigues. Most were wielding standard army issue weaponry. That was why the police hadn't investigated any of this yet, that was why the warehouse door hadn't been guarded or reinforced, why the pattern had been so easy, why all of it had been so easy. It was because this wasn't a secret operation, this level of military support meant that this place was government sanctioned and supported. The guards were merely a formality, someone to be there to set of the alarm in case something like this happened. They were prepared for this kind of rescue mission; why else would there be so many men on reserve? It took a lot of men to take down a mutant and Methos could see that that was the only resistance they expected. The only people they expected to care were other mutants. It was a good thing he was already acting out his aggression or a wall somewhere would be really sorry right now.
As long as Methos stayed within the doorway he could block the oncoming invaders and take them down with the machete. The close press of bodies made it nearly impossible to use their firearms. But, he could tell that he was weakening, he couldn't keep this up indefinitely and he had no idea how long they could keep this up or what else they had waiting.
As if in answer to his question he heard an explosion from behind him. The children were huddled in one corner, their eyes wide like frightened rabbits but as soon as they saw the new opening in the wall and the soldiers streaming through it, they went to work.
Blessedly, there was a small break as more reinforcements had to pick there way through the no man's land of bodies that blocked the entrance to the medical room.
Panting, Methos used the momentary lull.He turned to the children and gestured to the hole in the wall.
"Run."
A few ran to the wall but the others moved as if to help him.
"No, Run, Please. Make this worth it."
Luckily and happily for Methos, they did as he asked. They ran.
As the last disappeared through the back exit, that the first wave of guards had made, into the outside street Methos sighed in relief. Even if those children encountered reinforcements on their way out, they would be fine. It was a better chance for survival than staying in here anyways.
Speaking of which, the next wave was coming, Methos could see their flashlights moving across the open warehouse floor. Turning to look back into the room, Methos averted his eyes from the still forms of the children who were left behind and let his eyes roam over the shelf of chemicals stored in convenient glass containers.
Selecting a few, Methos broke them open and scattered their contents all around the room. The first of the new onslaught who were responding to the alarm barged through the door to see Methos smiling…
"Is that gasoline I smell?"
One of the more bright soldiers in the bunch shot at Methos, the bullet flew straight and hit Methos in the chest, puncturing his lung and going straight through his heart, killing him instantly. But the gun also ignited the fumes in the room, causing an explosion that rocked the whole warehouse.
No one ever accused Methos of not knowing how to make a great exit.
The last thing that Methos could recall about that night was waking up in the smoldering remains of the lab. He rolled over, recovering his senses, only to come face to face with a man smiling down at him.
"That was good work son. I think I might be able to find some use for you."
The smiling man looked up as someone called from a distant part of the still burning warehouse,
"Mr. Stryker, there is no one alive over here either…"
The man looked back at Methos, still smiling.
"Yes you will be useful indeed."
