Freeing the other prisoners had been easier than Moira had expected. The patrols were loose around the corridors, and any guards who came in were quickly overwhelmed by the prisoners that they had managed to arm. Morph's elderly appearance also served to throw more than one MRD soldier off his game.
Many of the other prisoners were wounded. Most of them were mutants, and they'd been unwilling to be taken in without a fight. From the scars that had become imbedded in thier skin she saw she could see that this wasn't the first time they'd been in MRD custody. She couldn't imagine how horrific it must have been to realize that they had to go back to that nightmare.
Moira didn't know how to help beyond retying bandages and making splints. Most of the injuries were straightforward though; they just needed to rest. The uninjured prisoners were stimulated by their suffering, taking down guards with extreme prejudice. No alarm had gone off, and she assumed that there was only a skeleton crew working the prison cages. The rest must have gone off to try and subjugate Genosha.
They weren't going to have an easy time of it. The prisoners she was with fought like cornered animals, claws lashing out. They had too many memories of imprisonment and oppression. Even the children she encountered looked fierce, their own memories and scars running deep. The MRD was fighting a country that was dedicated to prolonging its existence.
Two of the larger prisoners heaved a door ahead of them, smashing it open. Immediately she heard the clicking and aiming of guns from inside. Morph leapt in between them, taking aim and shooting the soldiers inside. Other Genoshans that they'd armed surged forwards, taking down the other soldiers. Many of the operators were reaching for their own guns, but it was too late.
One operator managed to reach his gun and levelled it at Moira. She began to move out of the way, but Morph tackled him, knocking the gun out of his hands. He pulled the man's arms behind his back, twisting them. The operator cried out and Morph pulled him into a chair, pressing his gun firmly to the man's temple.
Moira took a deep breath, rubbing her stomach and trying to look as though she hadn't almost been shot. She held her head up high and walked forwards. Several of the mutants were looking with disgust at the operator, and one hit him as he walked by.
She looked around, taking in thier surroundings. The room was a mesh platform with twin staircases on either side of it. It looked over a larger platform with machine parts scattered about. Several computers had been set up, each one showing a different signal. She saw a radar as well as a tracking system for what she could only assume were the giants she'd seen earlier.
A wave of nausea hit her and she wobbled. One of the other Genoshans noticed and dumped a dead body out of a chair so she could sit in it. She nodded at the thoughtfulness of the gesture, even though it made her skin crawl at the same time. A man had been shot in that chair. They were in the middle of a battleground though. She couldn't afford to be too picky.
She sat down in it and swiveled it so she could look the operator in the eye.
"Now," Moira said, "I know you're scared. And you've got every reason to be. Just about every person in this room would like to kill you, and the only thing keeping them back is that they think you might know how to deactivate these."
She tapped the collar on her neck. The operator's eyes widened and Morph shoved the gun closer to his head.
"And if you do that, then you'll be looking at being a prisoner," Moira said, "Which I think you'll agree is a lot better than being shot in the head."
The operator nodded and gestured to the keyboard. Morph stayed close, the gun still to the man's head.
"Don't try any funny business like calling for your friends," Morph said, "I see any MRD shitheads come through that door and I shoot. Got it?"
The operator nodded, his fingers flying over the keyboards. Moira heard a beep and her collar clicked open. She took it off her neck and threw it to the floor. Other mutants were ripping theirs off, crushing it beneath their feet. One prisoner smashed it in his hand, heedless of the sparks and wires.
Morph took his off, casually throwing it over his shoulder. The façade of his age fell away to reveal smooth gray skin. His eyes were the same color, an emotionless hue. He smacked the operator with the butt of his gun, sending him to the floor. Morph knelt down to tie him up and Moira blinked.
"I do know you," she said.
He looked up and cocked his head. She remembered a file somewhere in her desk; Kevin Sydney, alias Morph. It was strange that she'd never thought of it before, but the night had been full of unexpected happenings.
"You were at that dinner we had last year," Moira said, "You spilt punch all over the dessert table."
"Truth be told ma'am," Morph grinned, "I was trying to spike it."
Moira laughed, the first time she'd felt like doing so in hours. Morph chuckled too. She leaned her head against her arm ans smiled.
"Thank you," she said.
Morph raised an eyebrow.
"For saving my life," Moira clarified.
He grinned and straightened up.
"All in a day's work," Morph said.
He looked around the room, cupping his hands around his mouth.
"Attention everyone!" he said.
The prisoners milling about looked up at him. He clapped his hands together.
"Okay everyone," he said, "I'm Morph of the Hellions Special Forces. Now that we've got an area we can call a base we're going to get organized. Got it?"
There were a few nods.
"Now then," Morph said, "This is one of my co-workers."
He gestured to Moira. She felt the sudden urge to shut him up. While she trusted her fellow Genoshans, there were still several MRD prisoners around her. Even the chance that they could escape made revealing who she was an unnecessary risk. Moira looked up, wondering if she should punch him.
"She works with the tech branch," he said, "You find anything that looks like information about how these guys are working, you bring it to her."
He looked at her.
"You've got the floor," he said.
Moira cleared her throat. She wished he'd cleared it with her first, but the way he'd phrased it made sense.
"Are there any mutants with technological powers out there?" she asked, "People who work with computers?"
A few people stepped forwards. Moira motioned for them to come forward. They began climbing the steps.
"We're going to get into contact with the Hellion base and if they have any feeds to those giants," Moira said, "See if we can shut these scumbags down."
They nodded and sat down at their desks.
"Now then," Morph said, "We're gonna start doing patrols around here. Can't be too careful. Don't want to run into any of these assholes' buddies."
There were a few nods. Morph looked down at Moira and winked.
"Can you get started on trying to hail the Hellions?" he asked, "The X-men would be great too. Or the government."
He waved his hand.
"You know, people that make things go boom," he said.
Moira looked at the computer desk. She pulled on a pair of headphones and began fiddling with the dials. She hoped her CIA training would be enough.
"We're on different frequencies," Moira said, "I'll try to match it up, but I'd need to put in codes to get into contact with them."
He nodded and turned back to the assembled prisoners.
"Okay everybody," Morph said, clapping his hands, "Let's see if we can't take any of these other assholes down."
Alex readjusted the blanket. A makeshift mattress had been set up on the floor of the office. Scott was fast asleep, his head resting on Alex's shoulder. His brother had fallen asleep sitting up. Alex had managed to get the blanket over him. He didn't want his brother getting a cold on top of everything else.
He'd tried to get to sleep himself. Alex had been running coffee and snacks to the operators at one point, but they'd all been freshly supplied when he went back to his brother. Scott had been too young to be outside of the office for long, and he'd apparently been scared of going to sleep alone there. It was only after Alex had arrived that he'd relaxed.
Alex looked over at his mother. She frowned, turning the dials on her radio back and forth. Her lips set in a firm line.
"Christopher!" she called.
He watched his father come over to her, leaning over her desk.
"What is it Katherine?" he asked.
"I'm picking up an unfamiliar signal, faint but there," she said, "They're using our codes, but the wavelength isn't anything we're familiar with."
Alex's father frowned, his expression matching his mother's.
"In that case-" he began.
The ground trembled violently, upsetting papers and desks. People and equipment fell to the ground. The glass in the partition that divided them shattered. The lights sparked before giving out. Scott woke up, crying out as the walls rattled around them. Alex looked up and saw in the dim light that his father had grabbed his mother by the arm, jerking her away from her post.
"Generator's out!" he yelled, "Get to the back-up position!"
Alex scrambled to his feet. He grabbed Scott's hand and kicked down the door to the partition. His father and mother met them halfway. He felt their arms around his shoulders before they continued on, not even stopping. Another tremor shook the ground and his father continued to push them towards the exit.
Scott, still half-asleep but completely terrified, stumbled over his feet. He began to fall towards the floor. At the last minute Alex grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him back up. Alex heaved him up, his arms around him. They didn't have time to do anything else, and his parents couldn't reach him. So Alex carried him, trying not to let his brother's added weight slow down their escape.
He wondered, in the days and months to come, what would have happened if his father had picked up Scott instead. If he'd been closer, which he very nearly was, then he'd have picked up his little brother with no thought. Some act of God had ended up putting Alex closer though, and so it was him, and not his father, who was holding Scott when the roof came down.
A beam of red light cut through the ceiling. Alex saw people burn and melt beneath its beam, their screams filling the air. The smell of burning meat filled his nostrils and Alex tried not to gag. The roof began to shake, spirals of dust trickling downwards. What looked like a giant metal hand, something he supposed belonged to a Sentinel, swiped through the ceiling, sending stone and plaster raining down on them.
Alex felt a strong push from behind him. He fell forwards, letting go of Scott. His brother skidded forwards several feet. Alex felt his own head scrape up against the pavement, breaking skin and penetrating deep. A few pieces of the ceiling hit his back, cutting and bruising. He cried out, trying to get his bearings.
When he finally felt well enough to look up he turned his head. Dust still clouded the air, but it cleared after a moment. Behind him, where his parents had been standing a minute before, was a pile of plaster, broken wood, and ceiling tiles. Furniture from the top levels had fallen in too, adding the weight of the load that had been dropped when the Sentinel's hand went through.
From beneath the rubble he saw his father's hand, cut and bruising. Alex saw a few strands of his mother's golden hair. A growing puddle of blood seeped out from beneath the pile, spreading towards him. He got to his feet and watched the puddle's progress, his legs shaking and his head fuzzy. Bile rose in his throat and he fought the urge to vomit, his whole body heaving.
The blood touched his shoes but Alex continued to watch, transfixed. Blood from his own wound seeped into his eye, trailing down his face like a tear. His own tears followed the trail of blood, mingling with it and dripping down his chin. Alex's mouth opened and he took in shuddering breaths.
Above him he heard a metallic grating. Alex looked up and saw the Sentinel, its face peering inside the building. Lights from its eyes showed down, bathing the room in an unearthly golden glow. Alex stared back into it, blood and tears still dripping down his face, his hands hanging limply by his side.
The Sentinel withdrew, towering above him. One of its arms moved and it raised its hand in slow motion. Its palm began to glow red, gears whirring within it and its eyes still staring at him. Behind him Scott began to scream. Alex couldn't hear if it was his name or if he was using words at all.
The hot tears burned his face and he could feel the fading warmth of his parents blood around his feet. The warmth burned through his skin, feeling like fire and rage. The sun was bursting in his veins, stabbing into his heart and head. Alex took another shuddering breath, his own lungs burning with the rest of his body.
Red light surrounded him, burning in rings. He recognized his own mutation, but it burned like never before. The fire was leaving him, surrounding him in the firey light. Scott screamed again and the light pulsed, turning a darker hue. The light in the Sentinel's palm began to gather as Alex released the light towards the Sentinel, barely knowing what he was doing.
The rings of light chopped through the Sentinel's arm, killing the light. It went on cleaving straight through to cut its head in half. Sparks wreathed it in a demonic halo, its head sliding in half and falling to the ground. He heard a groaning noise as it collapsed in on itself, the ground trembling under the impact.
An arm grasped him, pulling him away. Alex looked over and saw Psylocke, one of the Hellions he'd seen nearly every day on the training ground. She was cut up and bleeding in a dozen places, her uniform torn. Her swords were on her back and she began to tug him towards the doorway. He saw that Thunderbird had picked Scott up, already moving through the doorway.
"Alex!" Psylocke yelled, "We need to go!"
He looked at her, tears drying on his cheeks. Psylocke shook her head before pulling him after her, his mind and heart still burning.
