Alex woke up, groggy and disoriented. It took him a minute to get a firm grasp on his surroundings, he'd learned a lot of meditation exercises over the past few years for this specific purpose, but when he did he wasn't surprised. Given the last thing he'd seen before he blacked out, being a prisoner was actually one of the better outcomes. Not the best, but it would have been too much to expect to wake up with the X-men having already rescued him.
He rolled his shoulders, trying to figure out the damage. The faint scent of dairy reached his nostrils. It was then that he realized that his eyes weren't hurting. Someone had flushed his eyes out with milk, which was the most appropriate method to deal with tear gas that Alex had come across. They had also spilt some on his uniform, which was really annoying, because that was going to be difficult to get out.
Then they had cuffed him, which wasn't good. Usually people were dumb and only cuffed his wrists, he'd learned how to get out of those, but foot cuffs too? They weren't taking any chances. He felt a bit like a snake who had been trussed up. That or a turkey dinner. He couldn't quite decide and, in the end, decided that metaphors were for idiots.
He would have to get out of his handcuffs now and work on getting out of his foot cuffs later. His feet were so tightly chained that he wasn't sure he'd be able to get a blast of sufficient strength to break them without also blowing off his foot. Alex had always hated that aspect of his ability.
But, first things first, his hands. Alex had almost dislocated his wrist when the door opened. He looked up and saw Lorna, or whatever it was, walk in. She glanced at him and then sat down across from him, her legs crossed in an overly clinical way. It made him angrier every time he saw her, this mockery of the woman he loved.
"What the hell do you want?" he snapped.
It hesitated, and then cocked its head. Its black eyes seemed furrowed in concentration, looking for something. Alex glared back, and her lips moved soundlessly. Time ticked on, and Alex snorted in frustration.
"Fine," he said, "Be weird."
The words didn't seem to phase her, and she continued looking at him. He sighed, wondering if she was here because they knew he could dislocate his wrist. Maybe she was just there as a guard for a more general purpose, but it was already pissing him off. So he glared at her, and she looked back at him with those searching black eyes.
Then the door opened again, and a pale man walked in. The searching look in her eyes went away and hardened into obsidian. It was still creepy, but he could at least understand it. Judging by the way her eyes flicked the man though, it was easy to figure out that she wasn't the one in charge.
So he turned his glare on the man, who laughed.
"It appears your eyes have gotten much better," he said, "Which is wonderful. Malice here worked quite hard to get that out of your eyes."
Its name was Malice. Fitting, because that's what he was feeling at the moment.
"Excuse me if I'm less than grateful," he said.
"Yes, I thought you wouldn't be," said the man, "Now then, I am Dr. Nathaniel Essex, currently chief scientist for the Lords Cardinal of the Hellfire Club."
Now he had a name too, as well as a boss.
"So why doesn't Emma Frost come in here and interrogate me herself?" Alex spat.
Essex threw his head back and laughed, this one more genuine than the first. Malice looked amused too, which made him angry, because that was a Lorna expression. Somehow doing things that were Lorna-like was much worse than doing things that weren't like her. He'd have to look into that after he beat the shit out of Malice.
Without hurting Lorna of course. He still had to figure out how to do that.
"Emma Frost isn't in charge here," Essex said, "Well, perhaps a little, but no more than a child throwing a temper tantrum with her mother's favorite antique vase is. She's being humored, of course, but once the vase is secured the child is always punished."
"So what is going on?" asked Alex.
"Outside, in here, anywhere?" Essex asked, "Most of that really isn't important, but, for the moment, I'm looking into punishing a few people for Emma, and several hundred thousand more."
He inched closer. Alex inched back. Essex didn't seem overly concerned by this.
"But all I really want you to be concerned about right now is some of the finer details of your medical history," Essex said, "For instance, did you have your tonsils removed and, if so, at what age?"
Alex stared at him.
"Oh yes, yes, I can see the confusion," Essex said, "You see, this is for science. Getting your records from the bases you lived on as a child would attract far too much attention. After the foster system took you in, it appeared that, if you ever received any medical attention, they never kept track of it. Such lazy bookkeepers. You didn't get taken in by a good family though, which is a downright shame. You probably didn't even get your proper vaccinations."
Alex continued staring at him, and Essex moved a little closer. It was then that Alex realized that Essex hadn't blinked since he walked into the room.
"Now, the tonsils are, obviously, not that important," Essex said, "But I thought it would be a good question to break the ice, get things started. After that we can move onto more advanced things, like allergies, things like that. Really get some good background information stored up before I start my investigation."
Investigation. Alex felt like he was in the Marines again, staring at Stryker, wondering what was going to happen to him next. He'd wondered if he'd be released when it was all over, if he'd ever even be given something akin to a decent burial if it never ended. Would they send him back to Charles and Hank, who he'd listed as next of kin, or just cremate him?
And that was a feeling that Alex had vowed he would never feel ever again. So he did the first smart thing he could think of doing: he lashed out and smashed his head into Essex's as fast as possible. He used his legs as a battering ram bruising, and hopefully breaking, a rib by slamming them into Essex's chest.
Essex lost balance and fell onto the floor. Alex scrambled to get the higher ground, maybe even plant a foot on his face and destroy the damn thing.
"I really wouldn't do that."
He whipped around. Malice had stood up. One hand was hanging limply by her side, and the other hand held a knife. Instead of pointing it at him though, she was pressing the blade lightly against Lorna's neck. A thin red line was already appearing there, contrasting starkly with the black of the veins around her throat.
"I will apply more pressure," she said, "And when I finish cutting the artery that runs through here, you can watch, from over there, as she bleeds out."
He watched in horror as more blood began to well up on Lorna's throat. He made a move closer, and Malice hissed between her teeth.
"No, you can stay over there," she said, "You love this one, maybe as much as she loves you. But I can end things right now, and you'll never even know."
Her black lips curled over her teeth. Malice was grinding her teeth now.
"Now, I'd really prefer that we not do things that way since I'd then have to take the body of one of the guards," she said, "All of the female guards are elsewhere today, and I'd have to possess a man, who will smell considerably, but I guess we're both realizing now that you can't always get what you want."
She smiled, but there was something strange about it, forced.
"Now," she said, "Sit down and answer Essex's questions like a good boy."
For a moment, Alex considered disobeying. That frightened young Marine was still alive inside of him, desperately trying to find a way to make this not happen. He wanted, more than anything, to get himself out, to escape. He could hear that voice telling him that this wasn't what Lorna would want, that she would tell him to fight.
But that Marine had never known Lorna, not really. And if Alex let her die to save his own skin, he would never be able to come back from that. So, fighting every single instinct he'd developed since meeting Stryker, he sat down.
"Good," Malice said, "And, remember, it doesn't take much for me to slit her throat, or stab her, or any number of terrible things that I could do to her. And trust me, I think I'll actually enjoy it by now."
She removed the knife and walked up to him. Malice leaned over her, the blood from the surface wound on her neck dripping down onto his lap. Malice's wound, but Lorna's blood.
"Don't you ever, ever forget that," she snarled.
Malice withdrew and sat back down in her own place. The knife was held firmly in one of her hands, and she nodded. Essex got back up, looking less amused now and more angry. So this was what he really was. It was actually less creepy than when he was pretending to be nice.
"Now," Sinister sniffed, his voice cold, "Tell me about your tonsils, or Malice will have to find a new body, and I may even have to damage you."
Alex glared back at him. He didn't know how he could get out of this with both him and Lorna in one piece. He didn't know how to free Lorna from Malice. But he sure as hell was going to try, and hopefully, he'd find a way to smash Essex's face in for real in doing so.
But first he had to remember when they'd removed his damn tonsils.
Do you have any idea what the machine does?
Hank shook his head, remembering at the last minute that Charles couldn't see him. Shortly after receiving Charles's message, he had returned to their observation point of the camp with Magneto. He'd been watching them for the past half hour, so it was frustrating that he knew so little.
Not really, Hank thought, peering at the machine below him, But they're loading it up with something that looks a bit like Agent Orange. I think there's something else in it too.
Any sign of radioactive material? Charles asked.
Not that I'm aware, thought Hank, But I wouldn't rule it out. I think I saw hazmat suits earlier. But there's no sign of Alex either.
The last thought was laced with worry. If Alex hadn't been captured, then he had been killed. Hank tried to reassure himself against this possibility. After all, Charles said that they hadn't found a body. People usually didn't murder someone and then take the body. Not in their line of work. Not usually.
I'm sure he's around, Charles thought, although there was worry in his tone too, But it looks like we're going to be a little blind for the assault. The others should be reaching you soon.
Hank sniffed the air and recognized Karma and Cannonball's scents coming towards him. They were only a few minutes out.
Yeah, he thought, Sooner the better.