February 19, 1974
Alex looked behind him. Magnetrix was still him. Between getting out of the truck and arriving at his hotel she'd thrown her hood over her face. All of her green hair had been stuffed into the hood, perhaps in a bid not to attract too much attention. He punched in a button for the elevator, rolling his shoulders and trying to work out the cricks in his neck.
As he waited he wondered just how these things happened to him. He had gone to attend a conference, and instead he found himself sucked back into a world that continually urged him to take a vacation. Perhaps it was fate of some kind, some sort of sign that their cause still needed him in a prominent role no matter what Sean tried to insist. There was nothing fun about what had just happened, but it had been familiar to him, more so than going in and listening to lectures.
He glanced at Magnetrix. Her lips were set in a firm line and she stood rigid, her eyes scanning the room for threats. She wasn't looking at him though. He didn't blame her. They weren't exactly in a position that could, in any terms at all, be thought of as normal. He wanted to tell her that he could sympathize, but that would mean talking to her.
There were things that he was curious about, wanted to ask, but those were only the most necessary subjects. Besides, he couldn't talk about them in public. His hotel room was the most secure place that he could think of at the moment, and Magnetrix had agreed when she'd heard. She hadn't been happy about remaining with him, but he hadn't been either.
A few unnecessary questions rattled around in his head too. He knew that the woman standing next to him was Erik's daughter. Her age was something that he couldn't help but be curious about. He estimated that she was about four years younger than him. Erik had been around thirty when he'd first met him, meaning that he'd fathered Lorna in his teens.
It was an unnecessary deduction on the part of the X-men, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. He had discussed it once with Hank before he'd gone away to a university in New York. She had been roughly eighteen when they'd first seen her with the Brotherhood wearing her father's colors, using his powers, and sporting a similar name.
It had led to speculation on just how long she had been with the Brotherhood. Eighteen wasn't particularly young in their line of work, but it wasn't old either. Alex wondered if they'd just got her, but Hank had cited her confidence in both her powers and her combat style as evidence against that theory. She'd been with the Brotherhood for a while.
Alex often wondered who her mother was. He highly doubted that she'd been a mutant. Charles had once said that he'd been one of the first mutants that Erik had met. It had been back when they were all training together, ready to take on Shaw. At the time Alex hadn't thought much about it, but when it came to Magnetrix it did have a few connotations.
It meant that her mother would have been human, and he couldn't imagine her being receptive to Erik's crusade against humans. It also meant that Magnetrix would have had to have hated her enough to join her father instead of trying to protect her mother's species. Perhaps she'd seen her father's appearance as a way to run away from home.
He shook his head. It was unimportant. They walked into the elevator together and he pointed to his room. Magentrix tapped the door and it swung open.
"I have the key you know," he said.
She didn't say anything as she stepped inside. He shut the door and locked it.
"So," he said, "Black Tom?"
Magnetrix pulled her hood back and fluffed out her green hair.
"Brotherhood business," she said tartly.
He rolled his yes.
"Look, I don't know what the Brotherhood teaches you about these situations," Alex said, "But right now we need to start communicating."
She crossed her arms.
"Alright," she said, "Do you have a way to contact the Professor?"
He threw his hands up. There was no working with her sort.
"Yes, I do," Alex said.
"Then use it," Magnetrix said, "I imagine that Emma might have contacted him by now."
Alex picked the phone off the nightstand and began dialing. Magnetrix stood some distance from him, being careful to look anywhere but where he was. He cradled the phone to his neck and glared at the opposite wall. Alex had always figured that any member of the Brotherhood would be difficult to talk to, and it had never bothered him since he'd never had any desire to talk to any of them.
He'd always had the sneaking suspicion that he might have to one day though. There had been occasions where they had found themselves fighting the same enemies. He still remembered when they had fought the Friends of Humanity together. Erik's smirk had been insufferable and Alex had longed to wipe it off his face. He couldn't count that as conversation though: working together when people were trying to kill you didn't count.
The phone rang out. He checked the time and calculated the time difference. Charles didn't have a class for another hour. He frowned and dialed Moira's number.
"Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Dean of student relations Moira Xavier."
Moira sounded exhausted.
"Hey, it's me," Alex said.
He heard the phone shift.
"Alex?" she asked, "Is everything alright?"
Alex frowned. He could tell from her tone that she wasn't asking out of idle curiosity.
"Why would you think something's wrong?" he asked.
"Because Charles just told us that you got into a fight alongside Magnetrix against some rather nasty characters," she said, "He saw it through Cerebro, and then he showed all of us. Sean's organizing the X-men to go down to South Dakota right now."
He glanced over at Magnetrix.
"Bad news travels fast," he said, "But don't worry. We're out of immediate danger. There are a few things I want to investigate but…"
Her words continued to clatter in his head.
"Wait a minute," Alex said, "Why was Charles trying to find me?"
"Not Charles, Magneto," Moira said, "He showed up at the Institute along with several members of the Brotherhood. I know you know that Magnetrix was kidnapped by Black Tom. Right after he killed Azazel."
His eyes widened. He remembered the red mutant from the very beginning. The idea of someone like him dying, especially at the hands of someone like Black Tom, was shocking. Perhaps there was more to Black Tom than they'd thought.
"No kidding," Alex said, "You can tell him she's still with me."
"One moment," Moira said.
He heard her put down the phone and run down the hall. He looked over at Magnetrix as footsteps pounded down the hall.
"Hey," Alex said, "it sounds like your daddy wants to talk to you."
Magnetrix whirled around, her hand reaching out. The phone flew into her hand and she placed it below her neck. Alex snorted and leaned back on his bed, his hands folded on his chest. He still wanted answers about what had happened, but it appeared that he wasn't going to get them. Not any time soon anyway, and not from Magnetrix.
He could only rely on the X-men to tell the truth.
Lorna clutched the phone close to her face.
"Lorna? Are you alright?"
She took a deep breath. It was good to hear her father's voice. He was speaking in Polish though. Her father had always made sure that she knew several languages, so understanding him wasn't a problem. However, she knew there was a reason for his language switch. He obviously wasn't alone in the room. Lorna wondered if it was the Professor's wife or the Professor himself that he didn't want to share their conversation with.
It touched her that he'd been desperate enough to go to Westchester for Cerebro, but at the same time she knew he needed to be careful. The X-men's insistence on 'doing the right thing' would do more harm than good. It was all well-intentioned, but naïve nonetheless.
"I'm fine father," she answered in the same language.
She could hear his sigh of relief.
"I feared the worst when we found Azazel."
Her throat constricted.
"So he is dead," Lorna said.
She gritted her teeth. She had known that it would have been impossible for him to survive, but hearing it from her father made her heart sink. He'd been with her for so long, always seemed so invincible.
Lorna tucked away her grief. She needed her anger to get her through the oncoming fight.
"Permission to find Black Tom and destroy him," Lorna said.
Her father sighed.
"Lorna, I understand that you're upset and angry," he said, "We all are. But you need to wait."
She furrowed her brow.
"Father, I can't afford to let the trail go cold," she said, "Right now I have a tenuous lead at best. That's going to go away if I sit around here waiting for everyone. It might have already gone away, but I knew we needed to talk."
"And we do need to talk," he said, "I was worried. But Lorna, it appears that we've underestimated Black Tom. Emma went through our records, and it appears that he's been embezzling funds."
Lorna gritted her teeth.
"So it was over money," she said.
Azazel had died over something as trivial as money. She gripped the wall, her fingers scratching the paint. Lorna felt Havok's eyes on her back, but for once she didn't care.
"I ask again," she said, "permission to find and destroy him."
"Once we get there," her father said.
"It's wasting time," Lorna said.
She tried to keep her voice level. She wasn't about to let Havok know that she was having an argument with her father. Part of her couldn't even believe it.
"Father, he killed Azazel," Lorna said.
"As I said, I am aware," her father said, "And he will be punished for hurting one of our own. But he will be punished by all of us."
She shook her head.
"If I head him off and call in his position then it would work better," she said.
"Lorna, no."
Lorna couldn't believe what she was doing, but her anger over what happened was coming to the forefront of her mind, reinforced by something else.
"Father, he has Terry too," Lorna said.
Her father sighed.
"Listen, Lorna," he said, "I know that you're fond of Terry. But I don't think she's in any immediate danger."
"I wouldn't put anything past that scum anymore," Lorna said.
"She can wait Lorna," her father said, "From what Charles showed me it seems like Black Tom has quite the criminal network. You need back up."
Her father was making sense, but her rage over Azazel's death bubbled to the surface. The thought of Terry at that man's mercy only made things worse. It was all tied in with the humiliation of being captured, held against her will for God only knew what. Now she was being held back, which only added to that humiliation.
Azazel and her father had taught her that humiliation should be paid back in tenfold. She had been an avid student.
"Father, I can do this," she said.
"Lorna, wait."
"Father," Lorna said, her voice raising.
She glanced back at Havok, who was staring at the ceiling and looking bored. He couldn't know that she was having an argument.
"I know what I'm doing," she said, "And I can do this. I'm going after him, and I'll tell you what I find. I'll get a radio and tune in on the correct channel. Goodbye father."
She hung up before he could reply. For a minute she took a deep breath, feeling shaky. What had she just done? Lorna knew her father had been right. However, something about the way he had calmly dismissed her offers to help had sparked something within her. If she had been any other member than she would have received permission. She had as much right as them, if not more in this case. She'd seen Azazel's injuries, been taken against her will. Terry was depending on her now, and someone had to destroy Black Tom.
"So, you're off then?" Havok said.
His voice was dismissive. Lorna looked at him, the gears in her head turning. Part of her told her to leave. The calmer part pointed out that her father had been right: taking on Black Tom by herself would be a bad idea. He had too many foot soldiers. Another part of her, one that she hated and wished would shut up, observed that she had worked very well with Havok.
More than that, he had kept his word. She might not be able to trust him fully, but she had the feeling that she could work with him. That was worth something. The X-men were naïve, but Havok was a talented soldier. In the past her father had, in grudging terms, admired the way that he organized his men and staged his raids.
"You said you wanted to know what happened," she said.
He sat up, giving her a calculating look. Lorna had the feeling that he was sizing her up much in the way that she had only seconds before.
"Yes," he said, "I do."
"And if I told you that Black Tom was behind this, that it looks like he's planning something big, you'd want to stop him, wouldn't you?" Lorna said.
"Of course," Havok said.
She resisted the urge to swallow.
"And if that meant working with me," Lorna said, "what would you say to that?"
He gave her a long, calculating glance.
"I'd say that we can't choose the people we work with," he said.
Lorna nodded.
"Then it's settled," she said.
Havok inclined his head. She could only hope that she had made the right decision.