Shake Your Foundations

2. Days Go By

Weeks drug on for the cast and crew of "Growing Up Biker" as the permanent residents of the Dreadnoks' Chicago compound waited for status updates. With their main bosses away on a long-term mission, each update could mean the difference between their return or continued absence.

Nothing seemed quite the same without them. And while Burn-Out managed the Dreadnoks rather nicely, looking out for nearly a dozen super-powered teenagers was enough to make him want to pull his dreadlocked hair out at the roots at times. Everyone was going stir crazy, in desperate need of something to do besides their filming schedule. Hell, at this point, they'd settle from rescuing animals from trees!

Then a confused mutant kid got shot by the cops, and Shadowatch made good on their earlier promise to Spike Freeman.

"Just because we can't kill the cops doesn't mean we can't make them wish they were dead." Regan stated. It was late Sunday night and all ten members of Shadowatch were holding a team meeting in the media room. "Surely there's something we can dig up on them to make their lives hell…"

"Or just tail them and make them really paranoid." Kristen remarked, a particularly devious grin plastered across her face. "They'll never even know I'm there!"

"Both good ideas." Andi conceded, jotting things down on a sheet of scratch paper. "Regan, get with Virus and start digging into the records of those cops: professional and personal. If there's even a sliver of misconduct, I want to know about it." Regan nodded in understanding.

"Of course, my dear." Virus grinned widely, making Steve growl in anger. "If those coppers have anything going on, I'll find it."

"Just shut up and do what she says." Regan scowled at the British mutant as the two left the room. Andi turned to Kristen and Calvin. "You two can take turns tailing them, starting tonight. Don't let them see you or leave any indication of who we are. They will understand why it's happening, and that's all the need to know."

"And the rest of us?" Mitch asked tentatively.

"We prepare our statements; we have a press conference first thing Tuesday morning." Neal stated. Atlantis wanted to hold one sooner, but the adults managed to talk her into giving everyone 24-hours's notice to fine-tune their speeches and get maximum media coverage.

"Spike's gonna be pissed." Mimic whistled.

"He can deal with it. We warned him weeks ago that something like this would happen." Corona huffed.

"What are we even going to say?" Bryan inquired. "I mean, we can't really 'come out' as mutants; we're too closely connected with Cobra for that."

"We don't have to." Andi explained. "Not for this. We can publicly condemn the actions taken by the law enforcement officers in question, offer our sincerest condolences to the family, and release a statement that we support Mutant Rights."

"We're gonna get mobbed." Mimic groaned, falling backward into his chair. "Hate groups are gonna start trying to throw bricks through our windows for this...and worse."

"If they step onto our property, we have the right to defend ourselves, which means we get to beat them senseless." Steve shrugged. "I'm actually looking forward to that part."

"Look, just don't worry about it too much." Kristen waved off the concerned mutate. "We can take care of ourselves, and so can the Dreadnoks."

"One of you needs to come back ASAP; those kids are up to something." Burn-Out exclaimed over the video chat line. He was currently trying to convince Zartan to send either Zarana or Zandar back to the Chicago base until things calmed back down.

"As much as I would love to, I highly doubt the Baroness will allow us to leave before Friday." The mercenary sighed. "Can't you stall them until then?"

"No." the African-American man stated bluntly. "Creed's all kinds of fired up and Gnawgahyde can't cool her back down."

A groan sounded from the other end of the line. Andrea Creed was the only member of Shadowatch that Zartan personally trained and mentored. The reason for that was that the young squad leader tended to be a regular handful when she got certain ideas into her head. Gnawgahyde—the resident poacher who watched her during Zartan's absences—could handle her when she was calm, but once she got worked up over something, there was very little the Australian big game hunter could do with her. "What is she planning?"

"Public press conference Tuesday; not sure what else she has up her sleeve. Not planning to go on a cop-killing spree yet, though."

"She's not the Creed I'm worried about." Zartan remarked, causing the other man to gape. "Magneto apparently wants the situation handled swiftly."

"And you think he would send Sabretooth to do it?" Burn-Out fought not to wince with his inquiry. Andi's relationship with her father could hardly be considered 'healthy'. The man never bothered to call or write or stop by to visit his daughter; she always had to go visit him, and every time she left, she came back worn out and more easily agitated than usual. It was as if the two did nothing but fight whenever they were left to themselves. Add that argumentative behavior to the fact that Andi tended to be incredibly territorial about 'her turf' (which covered the entirety of Chicago these days) and you got a recipe for disaster. "Boss, relative or no, if she gets in his way, he'll kill her! She's a good fighter, but she can't take him on by herself."

"You think I don't know that?" the other man snapped in irritation. "There's very little I can do about that from this end. Just try to keep her contained until I can get there Friday evening. I will arrange to have Destro pitch in for a few days, if need be." He had a very handy piece of blackmail on the Scotsman, saved for just such an occasion as this.

Burn-Out didn't know how his employer would arrange such a grand feat nor did he care to know. "I hope it'll be enough."

"You and I both."

Meanwhile, in the secrecy of his lair, Magneto handed out his next set of orders to one of his lieutenants. "You are to go to Chicago and deal with these humans who dared shoot one of our mutant brethren." The master of magnetism stated, glaring at his chosen instrument of destruction. "Make it as messy as possible. Ensure they get our message, but do not leave any evidence of your involvement. Dispatch of anyone who dares stand in your way."

As if he wasn't already going to do that! "You want a 'loud' job, then?" Victor "Sabretooth" Creed grinned evilly, fangs glistening in the harsh artificial light. "That I can do." His daughter would understand…but he couldn't let her get involved. He hadn't checked up on her in a while, but last he heard she was doing well for herself as a mercenary. She also had no interest in anything Magneto had to offer; her boss apparently paid her well enough to make the idea of working for the self-proclaimed 'Savior of Mutantkind' laughable. Not that he necessarily trusted the spook she worked for or his gang of bikers, but he had to admit she was safer there than she was near the Acolytes. She was far too opinionated to stay in Magneto's dubious good favor.

So he would avoid even seeing the girl at all costs. Simple enough. Chicago was a large city and consequently very easy to get lost in. She would never know where to find him.

"Space out the killings if you can. Make them fear you like you were death itself." Magneto elaborated. Creed fought the urge to roll his eyes. Bucket-head paid well enough, but the monologues got old fast.

"Draw it out; make 'em paranoid. I got it. This kind of shit is what you pay me for." The blond mutant grumbled. "When do I head out?"

"I want you in Chicago as soon as possible, but do not make a move until I tell you to do so." The metal-bending mutant answered calmly. "Our fallen comrade will soon be avenged…"

Yeah, yeah. Whatever. As long as he got to rip something apart with his bare hands, Victor didn't care who the hell he 'avenged' or 'revenged'. If things went like he wanted, he would be in and out of Chicago before she even realized he'd been there.