Prologue – Mid 2015, just after the Avengers fight with Ultron in Sokovia.
Herr Becker poured himself a glass of chilled white wine and carefully set it down on his desk. He adjusted the glass until the rim of the base matched the curve of the delicately spun coaster perfectly and slowly walked around the antique wooden bureau. Clipping his cane into the left arm of his chair, he carefully lowered himself onto the seat, fingers gripping the wood tightly as he made himself comfortable. He had never seen combat during his service in the Bundeswehr, this injury was more recent and was still healing. He looked to the right of his desk, where a bank of monitors was currently awaiting activation, and tugged on his suit jacket, making sure that everything was in order.
As he was getting comfortable three short sharp knocks on his office door warned him that the leader of Einskader had arrived for their meeting. Becker frowned; the squads were a necessary evil in his opinion. He detested the rabble that filled their ranks, but he couldn't deny how useful they were.
"Kommen Sie" His voice was clear, precise, and conveyed the authority he wielded with ease. He was a man who liked everything to be neat and efficient. His grey eyes flicked to the door, a hand running through his salt and pepper hair. The military cut was the only hint that he had ever been a general, a fact that he was not inclined to share with anyone. It was, in his opinion, a lesser rank than the one he currently held, and far less valuable to mankind.
The door barely opened and closed, as if someone had opened it just enough to pass a piece of paper through. However, the man taking slow, measured steps towards Becker looked a lot more substantial than paper. He was the very essence of his name, long black hair, eyes that seemed to be all pupil and nothing more, and a mouth that seemed almost permanently on the verge of a smirk. He dressed in black, for the most part, though a charcoal grey top was visible under the man's coat. Herr Becker wondered if the military style of the coat was a coincidence, or if the Gruppenleiter was subtly mocking him. The pale man stopped three steps away from the desk and bowed deeply, ignoring the irritation growing on his superior's face.
"Hail Hydra." His voice, like the man himself, seemed almost non-existent. As if at any moment he could fade away. Which Herr Becker knew was a definite and alarming possibility. He rubbed the edge of the glass coaster with his thumb, an unconscious nervous motion which seemed to reassure him enough to respond to the greeting.
"Hail Hydra, Gruppenleiter Shadow." Becker clasped his hands together, preferring that the man in front of him was unaware of his inner turmoil. "I have read your report, your Einskader did excellent work in Sokovia and they gave their lives for the cause. You should be proud of them." Shadow inclined his head, accepting the older mans' words. He had turned his grief inwards, transmuting it to rage against those who were revered for their powers, instead of feared. "However, it is now crippled. Why should I not disband it and move the remaining members to other groups?"
"If you please, Herr Becker." Shadow pointed to the lights on the ceiling, a polite expression on his face. Becker's eye twitched slightly but he accepted the request, pressing one in a series of buttons built into the side of his desk, the lights of the room dimming slowly.
"Danke." The pale man seemed to grow more substantial, his body changing from stick thin to a more muscled and powerful form. His black coat faded into the shadows of the room, ones that grew and shrank, almost moving on their own. He raised a hand, pointing a finger at the array of monitors which blinked into life as if he had commanded them. He smirked, holding up the remote controller, his thumb caressing the plastic, mimicking Becker's earlier movement. His grin grew wider as he pocketed the device and focused his full attention on the screen. As if Herr Becker and his feelings were irrelevant, as if Becker were lesser. The thought did nothing to improve the older man's dislike of what Hydra considered a valuable asset.
"Remember your place Gruppenleiter Shadow." Becker ordered. The pale man bowed, contritely as Becker continued. "What am I looking at?"
The screens showed different angles of what appeared to be a small office. It looked almost abandoned, except for the makeshift beds and living area. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, the place was a disorganized mess, nothing matched, and everything looked as if it should have been thrown out years ago. It embodied the chaos that he, that Hydra, craved to remove from the world.
"Mutants, Herr Becker. We found ourselves a little nest, with three baby birds in it. Almost ready for the plucking." Shadow's voice was eager, something that he usually controlled. That was interesting, Becker filed it away in his mind for later. He reached for the glass of wine, his eyes flicking over the screens.
"Is that Stellvertreter Daydream?" He asked pointing to a blue skinned, pink haired woman. Her eyes were yellow and, in Becker's opinion she looked like one of those cheap plastic children's toys, all garish colours that did not go together well. Her usual outfit was gone, replaced with worn, dirty clothing. She wiped a dark smudge from her cheek as she took a bag from the woman next to her and started to unpack the meagre contents.
"It is, mein Herr. She is doing all the groundwork, implanting breadcrumbs to lead them to Hydra. Good food, clean clothes, warm beds, the usual. And she will also be filling their little brains with bad thoughts about the outside world. The threats, the abuse. Two of them are from Sokovia." The corner of Shadow's mouth lifted at that comment. "Or should I say, were. That's giving Daydream plenty of material to work with."
"This one calls herself Spectrum," He said, pointing to a serpentine looking mutant. She was looking away from the monitor, laughing at something as her skin colour changed from blue to green to gold. She bent down, picking something up off of the floor. Becker flinched as the item he had thought was a rag turned out to be a t-shirt, the woman slipping it over her head and onto her body as if the state of it didn't matter to her. It probably didn't, he thought to himself, eyes flicking back over the monitors.
"Mein Gott, her eyes." Becker exclaimed as the woman looked back, her face showing clearly for the first time. He was unable to look away as he struggled to accept how inhuman she looked. In the middle of her face, where the bridge of her nose should be, was a pure red eye. To the left and right of that single eye were two more, which were pure blue, and the two behind those were green. Shadow turned his head slightly, in a way that Becker found unsettling and creepy.
"She can see the whole of the light spectrum and hear every frequency known to man and maybe more. I believe that with training she could control the emotional colour shifts of her skin. Maybe even become invisible." He tapped a lip thoughtfully with a finger that seemed to be dipped in ink. Had it been like that before, Becker wondered. He shook his head slightly; the mutant was toying with him and he would not let that happen.
"This is Mass." The Gruppenleiter tapped the leftmost monitor where a dark-skinned woman was sleeping on what looked like a pile of decaying cushions. "We may have to work on the name but it's accurate. She can change her molecular structure to mimic any mineral she has been in contact with. Give her the mineral and a few moments later she can replicate it throughout her entire body."
"This changes her appearance?" Becker questioned. Shadow nodded, a lock of his hair falling over his face. "Then this will not be subtle." Shadow's eyes glittered as he looked at his superior, tucking the errant lock back into place.
"We aren't subtle, mein Herr. We are what you use when all diplomacy has failed, when there are no more avenues to explore, and when there are obstacles to be removed from Hydra's path." Shadow shrugged as if his words were of no consequence. "We are your final solution."
Becker's eyes flicked back to the screen, the woman had woken up, a hand running through her braids, and a very disgruntled look on her face.
"She looks very unhappy, we should change that, I think." They had nothing, he thought. That was good, Hydra would give them what the world had taken from them. Safety, stability and, most important of all, order. And in return they would give Hydra their unwavering loyalty, and complete access to their mutant powers.
"Indeed," Shadow looked at him and smirked. "But I've saved the best for last." He pointed back to the monitor which showed Daydream, now putting whatever meagre food rations they had into a cupboard. An ice white mutant stood next to her, gloved hands gripping her arms tightly, her thumb running slowly up and down her wrist. Vivid green eyes were unfocused, jerking back and forth as if some unseen image was playing for her.
"It looks like Daydream is working on her, she calls herself Nightshade and she is incredibly deadly." Shadow frowned slightly, another first in Becker's books. "Or she would be if she would allow herself to be. Apparently, she doesn't like killing." Shadow's smile was all teeth. "I'm sure we can change her mind on that subject."
"What use do we have for a reluctant mutant, Gruppenleiter Shadow? She is of no use to us if she will not follow orders." Becker took a sip of his drink, slowly rotating the glass back and forth in his fingers. Shadow followed the movement for a moment before replying.
"Her kill count in Sokovia alone is fifteen people. We are currently unsure of how many countries she visited since then, but I have no doubt that there are more than fifteen people dead because of her." Shadow leaned forward, staring at the monitor intently. It was clear that he wanted this badly. But was it the whole group or just the unwilling killer?
"She doesn't like killing? And yet she does. I do not understand, Gruppenleiter Shadow." Herr Becker's voice was harsh, and he picked at an imaginary thread on his sleeve for a moment before looking up. "Please explain it to me."
"Nightshade has the ability to create toxins at will, or she would have, if she was trained up." Shadow corrected himself and then continued. "Mutant powers are tied into emotions; it takes practice and discipline to use them at will. Most mutants are happy to use their abilities, they become comfortable with what they can do. Nightshade fears her abilities, she doesn't want to kill. It makes her volatile, uncontrolled, and chaotic. A danger."
"So, her powers slip from her grasp and people die. I see, I see. If Hydra graciously takes her in, feeds her, clothes her, helps her to gain control will she be productive? I wonder, Gruppenleiter Shadow, how many loyal Hydra agents will die along the way? If I am to risk the lives of the men and women here, I must be certain that she will be an asset to our organisation." Becker sighed, his mind turning over the options. An assassin that could create deadly poisons at will. The thought intrigued him, almost pushing out the voice that warned him of the danger to his men and himself. A flicker of movement pulled his mind back to the man standing in front of him. Shadow turned to face him, arms folding over his chest.
"Permission to speak frankly?" Becker nodded. "She is a danger. Not only to us and to others, but to herself. She could decide to stop the threat that she poses and that would be a great loss for us. She could be picked up by the Avengers, or someone like them, and be used against us." He pointed to the glass on the desk. "Your next drink could be your last. Unless we get to her first."
"And if she won't co-operate?" Becker eyed his wine glass with apprehension. "What if, after years of our hospitality she rebels, decides we are the enemy, and foolishly thinks that the world would be better off without us? What then Gruppenleiter Shadow?"
"Then, Herr Becker, I will kill her myself." Shadow's voice was full of malice but whether it was aimed at him for his suggestion, or at her for the potential threat, Becker couldn't decide.
The leader of Einskader turned, heading for the door, his coat sweeping all the shadows along with him. "My personal recommendation would be to get her, along with her delightful nest buddies under Hydra protection as soon as possible. Once here the other two can go through regular training and reprogramming." He pointed back at the monitors. "She, on the other hand, needs something more. May I suggest project Strakh to start with and then when she can't think straight move her over to project Vytirat." He opened the door and looked back, one white hand gripping the wood lightly. "She needs to be pushed right to the very edge, Herr Becker. And then we offer one shot at salvation." Becker examined his glass slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. He weighed the immense cost of project Vytirat against the benefits of a potentially untraceable assassin and nodded slowly.
"I have no doubt that you will get excellent results Herr Shadow, so do not disappoint me. You may assemble your new team." The door closed quietly, and Becker sat back satisfied. Let the other branches of Hydra worry about their super soldiers, their overly complicated plans for world domination, their foolish endeavours. The war would be won with mutants, and if one fell two would be recruited to take their place.