~~~
"Good evening and welcome to tonight's edition of Nightline. I 'm Ted Koppel.
Tonight, I will be speaking with a man whose name has become synonymous with controversy. Indeed, in the last 5 months, Edwin Alva has seen his corporate empire and public image brought to its proverbial knees as shocking allegations continue to be made public about his company's involvement in what was the worst night of civil unrest in the history of this nation.
Mr. Alva, thank you for joining us…"
"Thank you Mr. Koppel, glad to be here."
"Mr. Alva, ALVA INDUSTRIES is currently under the microscopes of several Federal, State, and Local investigations. Were the reports about a possible settlement true?"
"Mr. Koppel, let me first say that ALVA INDUSTRIES has always worked hard to ensure that our products, both for the government and private sectors, have always met the strictest standards of safety and…"
"But Mr. Alva, three government probes have already concluded that the tear gas used to quell the gang riots of Dakota was directly and indirectly to blame for the 250-plus deaths that occurred. In fact there was proof…"
"What proof Mr. Koppel? Do you have better sources than the government? I have seen no government agency produce any direct proof that links the marker tea-gas used during the riots to any of the casualties."
"But Mr. Alva, all the dead bodies had radiation signatures?"
"That's how the gas worked, Mr. Koppel. The perpetrator, the bad-guys, would be easier to find once they were marked by the gas."
"But anyone that wasn't marked survived Mr. Alva. The EPA has already concluded that the chemical burns found on over 90% of the victims of the riots, both police and civilians alike, were caused by the tear gas, which was found to have a highly corrosive agent."
"Yes, but the same agents were found in mass quantities around the old abandoned chemical plant which was the flash point of the riot."
"An old ALVA INDUSTRY chemical plant…""Yes, it was an old ALVA factory plant, but the fact remains that the tear gas must have mixed with the dried chemicals that saturated the ground around the area, and produced the deadly mixture that killed all those people. That is the finding of our own internal investigation."
"But wouldn't ALVA INDUSTRIES also be to blame for those chemicals that were polluting the local area?""That factory closed almost 20 years ago. The environmental laws in the state were not as restrictive, and federal guidelines were nowhere near as tough as they are now. ALVA INDUSTRIES has already offered to voluntarily clean up the site, and dispose of any old chemical residue that may still affect the area."
"Mr. Alva, your company's claims have yet to be corroborated by any outside sources. And your company has been unwilling to turn over the exact composition of the gas to authorities. Getting back to the matter at hand… regardless of how the gas may have worked, the fact remains that it was a contributing factor in the deaths of hundreds."
"Mr.Koppel, let me clear something up for you… firstly, Alva industries has fully cooperated with all investigating authorities. Secondly, Alva Industries was NOT responsible for the deaths of those people. My firm didn't order the gas to be used, my firm was not the one who ordered the riot police to fire live rounds into the crowds, and my firm was NOT the one who ordered that the Paris Island Bridge be blown up. All that was ordered by the late Mayor Burke!"
"Isn't it a bit convenient to blame a dead man? A.I. lawyers have been trying to pin everything on him since his suicide a month after the riots."
"And why not Mr. Koppel? Roland Burke killed himself because he was facing indictments and convictions that would've led to the death penalty. And we all know now that he was guilty. He ordered the use of the gas, he ordered the bridge to be blown, it was all found in his personal documents. All of it! This should be case closed. I don't see why ALVA Industries is still under investigation at all!"
"Because it was also found that ALVA Industries assured him that the gas was 100% safe, and there were no indications of any side effects or possible fatality risks. There were also calls to ALVA headquarters made just minutes prior to the order being issued to blow the bridge. You also remember that the local city government tried to pin it on the gang members, but no one bought that explanation because of the massive explosives required to bring that bridge down."
"I don't see what that, or a phone-call, or anything have to do with my company. I think that all of this is just garbage, rumors being made up by local troublemakers. The fact is that 5 months ago the riots occurred, an accident happened due to the horrible and unique pollution levels in the area, and then a month later the sole guilty party killed himself. Case closed. The government probes are all concluding that there is no real evidence to charge ALVA Industries with any wrongdoing."
"Mr. Alva, we're running out of time, but let me just ask you one last thing…"
"Go ahead, Mr. Koppel…"
"How does ALVA Industries gain the trust back of the city of Dakota, or indeed, the nation?"
"By showing everyone that A.I. has always put the good of the consumer, the good of the environment, and the good of the nation ahead of ourselves. We have already founded several multi-million dollar charity funds to help the victims of the riots and to rebuild the business districts that were shattered by the rioting."
"Thank you Mr. Alva."
"Your welcome Ted."
"Uhhh, yes… this is Ted Koppel with Nightline… thank you and goodnight!"
~~~
*click*
"Put on something else! I want to see if the Sixers are winning", said a gruff looking rotund man on a barstool. He sat at the end of the bar, nearest to the TV set, and was growing agitated by having to watch Nightline in his favorite Sports bar.
"Shut up Larry", said another man sitting in the barstool next to him. "I wanted to see that Eddie Alva guy squirm. I swear, that old gray-headed bastard is dirty. His whole company is dirty. I'm tellin' ya, THEY were the ones callin' the shots that night of the riots. Betcha they whacked the mayor too, just to pin the whole thing on 'im!"
"You're crazy Bobby. Ya been readin' too much of that monkey-crap in the papers. A bunch o' those gang f*cks kill each other? Who cares! Let' 'em. They should give that Alva a**hole a medal if you ask me."
"Nobody asked you."
"Huh", both bar customers turned around to get a look at the guy who just so rudely interrupted them. He was thin but muscular, a little tall, wearing faded black jeans, and a blue-flannel shirt with a black leather jacket over it. But his most prominent feature was his hair! Looked liked he was trying for an Elvis-style pompadour, but stopped halfway. Anyhow, this guy was oozing evil… his menacing scowl froze the two bar-patrons in their tracks.
"Uh, hey buddy, we ain't looking for any trouble…"
"Good", replied Logan, "Don't start none, there ain't gonna be none, right bub?" He walked past the two VERY scared locals and went to a corner of the bar. Finding a small table in a dimly lit corner, he sauntered over and plopped his weary frame on the old wooden chair. A waitress came by and he ordered a "Cold Turkey". "Oh man, I hope Marie doesn't start drinking this stuff", he thought. He was still a bit worried that some of his character traits would cause her harm. He'd have to wait until he got back home to Westchester (Home?). Home. Home! It was home to him, he finally admitted that to his friend Tat back in Dakota before he left. Hmmm… Tat. Now that was a surprise. His old beer-buddy was a preacher now, and it couldn't have worked out any better. Logan didn't think the old Tat Larsen would've let him stay there for the 5 months he was in Dakota. The first two weeks were the worst… due to the Big Bang. Logan winced at the thought of it. He had been in some awful situations, but the images of all the dead bodies, the carnage, and that damn gas… it was almost too much. Anyhow, after the rioting, the National Guard came in to restore order. That's when stuff really hit the fan for the city of Dakota. The Feds were investigating everything, the mayor was found dead a month after the media firestorm erupted and the indictments started rolling in (killed himself, they said), and all the blame was getting heaped on him. Looks like the Feds are starting to buy that line too; it's all the dead guy's fault. Something was up. Logan could smell a rat a mile away, and everything about the Big bang, the way the cops responded, the gas, the Bridge… everything… smelled like a major swerve. Anyhow, the big fish aren't frying for this one… at least not yet.
The waitress brought him his drink and he stared at it for a little while before downing it in one gulp. He thought about the last 5 months he spent with his friend. He was going to leave right after the Big Bang, but decided to stick around and help Tat care for the neighborhood folks who were most affected by the rioting and the looting. It was tough work. There were people looking for missing loved ones, people without homes, people without limbs… and those freakin' National Guard curfews! It all made him miss Marie and the rest of the nerds all the more. A month ago he finally decided to forego his trip to Canada, and head back to Westchester. He was so close now, Lancaster, Pa seemed like a good place to stop after a few hours on the road.
"Yo Elvis…"
"Huh", How did I let these goofs sneak up on me, Logan thought. He looked up and saw the two bar customers with three more friends. I guess they figured there was safety in numbers. They were wrong. Dead wrong.
~~~
February 2002 -Westchester, NY
A motorcycle pulled up on the mansion's driveway. It was late, the lights in the house were out, and the driver killed the engine and walked the bike to the garage. Logan took the place in with his eyes. "Not much has changed." Cyclops' car was still neat and spotless, the Driver's Ed car was still dented up (actually, it had some new ones), and the spot where ol' one-eye's bike used to be was still empty. He stepped through the door adjoining the garage to one of the laundry rooms, then he went down the dark hallway and saw a light in kitchen. "Hi there Chuck."
"Logan, I knew it was you…" Charles Xavier turned himself around, away from the kitchen table and his midnight spot of tea. "It wasn't because I'm psychic… it's because you need a bath man! There's a room available for you. Number 207. I'd use the shower first!"
"You gettin' funny in your old-age."
"Younger than you… probably. But I guess you know a bit more about that now?"
"No, I don't. Didn't make it to Canada. I took a long detour to see a friend about some money. Stuff happened. Nasty stuff."
"Well, you can tell me and the others about that in the morning. I'll have the team assembled in the ready room. You can make your grand entrance then. Good night Logan." Charles then wheeled his chair out of the kitchen and into the main hallway, towards the elevators. Logan turned the lights off in the kitchen, then went down the hallway to the main lobby of the mansion. He made his way up the ornate stairs, and was right in front of his room door when it hit him.
"Room 207? Freaking son of a…" Room 207 had the distinction of being the room right next to 206… Jean and Cyclops' room. For a man with a heightened sense of hearing and smell… sleep was not going to come easy.
***
The next morning the entire team, and Rogue, was assembled in the Ready Room. Rogue, though proving herself to be useful, was not a full-fledged member of the team. It would be almost a year before she could graduate and join on as a full-time X-man. Professor Xavier was actually the last one there, which was very unusual in it of itself. As Cyclops was about to address him, the older man just raised his hand to stop him. "I have a surprise for you all… please come in now… Logan!"
"Logan!" Jean, Rouge, and Scott almost said it simultaneously – though Scott's version had more menace in it than the others. Logan stepped into the Ready Room, feeling the stares of the others bore into him. His trademark smirk on his lips, he cockily walked to an empty seat and molded his body into it. His body looked almost boneless in the way it slouched over the leather. He could literally hear Jean's heart flutter as he made his way by her. Marie's heart was still beating so fast he was sure the girl would have a stroke at any moment. *Feels good to be back* he thought to himself, that is, until his gaze met Scott's grim-faced dour. Scott's visor hid his eyes, which made him tough to read, but the clenched lips were a dead giveaway. The weird thing was, he wasn't sensing any hostility from him, which was fine… but no fear either. Logan was use to his adversaries feeling fear. Heck, it was natural. But this pencil-neck geek with the crazy eyewear was feeling absolutely NONE. Bad. Very Bad.
"Logan, we can dispense with the pleasantries until later. Why don't you start by telling us what you found, or at least what you feel comfortable sharing. It isn't every day that we have someone go off on a mission like yours." He had to start the conversation on an even note. Xavier could sense the rising tension in Logan, the restlessness in Rogue, the anticipation in Jean (hello? Did he miss that before?), and the strange "nothingness" in Scott. Ororo was the only one who had honest delight in her eyes and demeanor when Logan stepped through the door.
"Not much to tell Chuck. I never made it to Canada."
"But Logan, I mean, it's been over six months. You never called (*me*) or contacted anyone", Jean said. Xavier caught that little mental "me", and just filed it away with all the other mental "slips" he'd been sensing from Jean.
"I spent 5 months in Dakota. Had a pal that helped me out, and then he needed my help so I stayed until he got things under control."
"Dakota!" Ororo blurted as Scott's left eyebrow rose above his visor. "That was where they had that riot!"
"Logan, you were there?" Marie asked. Logan's appearance explained why she was called into the Ready Room. All along she thought that she would be inducted into the X-men early, but this surprise was even better.
"Yeah darlin' I was. In fact, I was caught up in the middle of it. The locals called it the Big Bang. Well… it certainly was BIG."
"How did you make it through the riots? Did you join in them?" Cyclops' question came out more like a statement.
"No. I. Did. Not. For a short time I thought I could try and stop 'em, but I figured too late that you can't stop something like that, despite whatever powers you have. And that gas made the whole thing turn into an even bigger nightmare!"
"You mean the gas the mayor deployed?", asked Xavier.
"I don't know if the mayor did it, but that gas came down and started killing people immediately. It even ate through the cops' gas masks. Those people never had a shot."
"Ate through masks?, Ororo started, "But Logan, nothing like that was ever reported on the news, or anywhere. Only people who had heavy direct contact with that stuff died from it."
"Don't believe everything you read or see on the news Ro. I was there. I saw that stuff melt the skin right off of a hundred people. I saw the cops run for cover when their faces started fallin' off too. Took me a week and a half to get over the stuff myself. And I wasn't hit directly."
"Oh Logan", Marie's eyes were starting to water, "What happened to you over there? Why didn't you call us… call me?"
"I don't know darlin'. I wanted to, but I had a friend there who looked out for me, and helped me see some things more clearly. That's why I came back here, instead of Canada. I ain't going to search for my past, at least not yet, when I already have a present to look after. Let tomorrow worry about itself." Logan could almost swear he heard Tat Larsen's baritone voice in his head speaking. The Reverend was a great listener, but even better at giving advice. Logan knew that he had to focus on living today, and living for himself, and for Marie. He made a pledge to protect her, and that was made out of loyalty, friendship… and love? He did love the kid. And it seemed more than fatherly, or like a big brother. He wondered if her crush on him had subsided any.
"People, let's let Logan get settled in. He obviously has more information on the Big Bang riots than even the official sources." Cyclops was in "fearless leader" mode, taking for granted that people would simply do as he said because, well… he was him. Turning to Wolverine, "Logan, I want to talk to you after this meeting is over, just you and me. We need to get some details worked out about your tenure here."
"Sure, no problem Scooter." Rogue and Storm chuckled silently, but Jean winced at Logan's disrespect for her fiancé. Granted, Cyclops was a bit of a prick sometimes, and Logan was a welcome breath of fresh air (a feral, sexy breath… she mused). But after a 6-month absence you'd think that he could lighten up on Cyke, whom she knew had only the best interest of everyone in mind – all the time. That was his best singular trait, and the reason why she loved him so much. It was good to see Logan again though… maybe too good .
The meeting went on for a while longer, with Xavier explaining that there have been some reports of mutant activity around the greater Dakota area. Logan had said that he saw some unusual things in the riots, but nothing major after the Bang. Scott added that Cerebro had not picked up anything and their high altitude flyovers with the Blackbird showed nothing unusual. Since there was no visual confirmation, the reports had been relegated to rumors. Logan objected to it all being just rumors, citing that he did indeed see people that had to be mutants during the Big Bang - although admittedly none fit the descriptions of any of the reports. After the meeting, which dragged on for 2 hours, everyone shuffled out of the room. Logan made two appointments: lunch with Rogue and an afternoon medical checkup with Jean. When Xavier left the room, Logan and Cyclops were left standing on opposite corners. Cyke was near the door, and Logan at the far end. Logan actually looked a little nervous, like he did when he first came to the mansion. It wasn't the mansion that gave him the creeps this time… it was Cyclops. Cyclops was there, staring at him with those ruby sunglasses, and not emitting the slightest hint of fear, trepidation, or anything. His heartbeat was so regular, his body heat so staid, that it was almost clinical. And the silence, that seemed like hours, but was only a mere 5 seconds, was finally broken by Logan's abrupt, "Well? What the hell do you want?"
"I want… to clear some things up."
"So? Get to clearin' bub. I don't have all day."
"Well… yes… anyway, Logan, I want to officially extend membership to you into the X-men, as an operative and trainer, and also as a martial arts instructor here at the School. We can take care of the paperwork later. I was telling the Professor that I believe you will be an excellent addition to the team, and your hand-to-hand combat skills are easily the best we've ever seen. As long as you remember our tactics, strategies, and leadership structure you'll do well."
"Leadership structure?" Logan bristled. "You mean, remember that YOU'RE the boss!"
"In field situations, yes. Professor Xavier is the actual leader of the X-Men. I'm the field commander, and acting leader in case of emergencies like when Mystique disabled the Professor."
"Ok, bub, that was all business. You could've sent me an email telling me the same thing. What's your beef Scooter? Why'd you call me out for the one-on-one?"
"Beef?" Cyclops looked down for a second, drew in a deep breath, and then slowly lifted his head until his hidden eyes met Logan's. "It's about me and Jean." Logan chuckled and couldn't help but grin. When Cyclops grinned back, coupled along with a glowing red light that emanated from BEHIND his sunglasses, Logan's grin faded… fast. "Jean loves me very much, and I would give my life before seeing her hurt in any way. She has tried to hide it, but she was a bit taken by you when you were here last year."
"So what? Are you here to warn me to stay away from your girl again?"
"No, I'm asking you to take the moral high ground." Logan's eyes widened in surprise. "I saw something in you when you literally gave your life to save Rogue. Behind all the animal behavior, you have a capacity for honor and nobility that very few men could ever achieve. Quite frankly, I have never met a more selfless and self-sacrificial man, aside from the Professor."
"Thanks for the compliment Cyke." *Cyke? Soon I'll be calling this guy Scott. Memo to self: Impale myself with claws if I ever utter the name Scott.* "What are you gettin' at?"
"I'm just saying that, though I know Jean's love for me is as strong as mine is for her, you present a unique temptation, and your living here presents a distraction that other men would not. Mr. Logan, I'm asking you, point blank, to not pursue her in that way. I'm asking you… no, I'm giving you the opportunity… to be a man of honor. And I have full confidence that you can do it."
"Wha…" was all that Logan could say. He never saw this coming. He expected some kind of threat, which would've been great because it would've given him the excuse he needed to cave in Cyke's perfect little nose. But this was beyond him. He was getting complimented and encouraged to do the right thing. Was Cyke talking to Tat Larsen behind his back? This is great, just peachy. If he pursues Jean, the way Cyke puts it, he would ultimately be disgracing himself. And he caught that little remark about Cyke giving his life to protect Jean in any way. Would I do that for Jean, he thought. No. For Marie, easily… heck, he already did a few times. This was the most underhanded move that Scooter could've pulled. Appealing to his sense of honor, duty, and loyalty, and then look for the best in him. Did Cyclops really see all that honor stuff in him? It didn't matter. He would never let this man, or anyone, look down on him or think he was a lecher. Clasping Scott's hand tightly, he said "Fine, bub. No blood, no foul. I ain't never been a home wrecker, and I won't start with yours. But hey, a man can only take so much temptation himself you know."
"I know. Jean and I already had this talk, Logan. Jean told me she won't pursue you, and assured me that nothing would come of it. But if you and I are to work together, trust each other, put our lives in each other's hands… then there can be no room for distraction. And buddy, this would be major. Personal and major."
Great move Cyclops, Logan mused. Talking to both him and Jean makes them the bad guys in even their OWN eyes. If this guy is insincere, he's at least a master manipulator. Maybe he IS sincere, and is manipulating it anyway. Either way, he's not going to let some physical attraction get in the way of making a home here, where he can take care of Marie, and see to it that the runaway has a decent shot at making it in life. Jean's great, but right now, she isn't worth the risk. "Ok, Cyclops. You got a deal - man-to-man, and this stays between us. But just for the record…" SCHUNK – out came the claws, "I admire your guts, bub. If this little convo would've gone sour, I'd 've sliced off a good chunk o' you before you could take off your glasses."
That eerie glow began emanating from behind Cyke's glasses again. "I don't know Logan. I guess it all depends on how you… look at it." And with that, a crimson beam of super-pressurized energy shot from his glasses and instantly put a dent and scorch mark on the table just inches away from Logan. The fact that he had his arms folded the whole time helped augment the feeling of utter shock and dismay Logan was feeling. Cyclops just grinned, stood up, and walked out the door… leaving a very confused Wolverine in his wake.
Logan began to laugh a little and said, "Things are going to be real interesting here. Maybe I should move BACK to Dakota." He got up, took another look at the damaged table, and then headed out to his lunch appointment with Marie.
***
Logan and Marie could be seen sitting together and talking under the old elm tree near the edge of the property. They seemed so serene, and loving. Marie gazed into Logan eyes with anticipation, and Logan's entire visage showed a compassion that betrayed his gruff exterior. Cyclops and Professor Xavier took in the scene as they walked by, having an intense conversation of their own.
"Why didn't you tell me that you're learning to block your emotions? I couldn't get a casual read on your emotional state, and I was in the room with you. Scott, this kind of strategic advantage has to be shared."
"Professor, Jean has been teaching me to stay completely calm and collected. She's been teaching me how to steady my emotions, so I don't fly off the handle and keep my cool under pressure."
"Scott Summers, in all the years I've known you, you have never been an irrational or overly emotional man. What is really going on?"
Cyclops let out a deep breath. He couldn't lie to this man. Literally. But he never, ever wanted to either. In all the ways that mattered, Charles Xavier was his father. The best father he had ever known. "Remember the old broken TV in the rec hall? The one that we think some kid must've punched or something?"
"Yes, I remember. Go on."
"Well… a student didn't punch it. I did it. I blew it off the entertainment center."
"What happened Scott? You lost your visor?"
"No Professor. I was upset with Jean. We had just had a… uh… talk over a personal matter, and I went down to watch some TV. My favorite team was losing a close game. I was already upset… I don't know… before I knew it I blew up and shot right through my ruby glasses."
Xavier took a few seconds to process the information – and its implications. He suddenly stopped and looked up at Scott's downcast face. "Scott, I knew that some day your powers might outgrow your Ruby quartz lenses. Your eyeglasses, even your visor, were stopgap maneuvers." Xavier's face grew a little downcast. He then looked up and focused on the younger man, who, in every way that counted, was his son. He grabbed Cyclops' hand, in the most fatherly and gentle way he knew, and squeezed it tight as he said, "I don't have to be psychic to know that you're worried that someday nothing will stop the beams."
"Professor…", Cyclops looked away and stared at the kids playing around the mansion.
"Scott, look at me, I will stop at nothing until I figure out how to repair the brain damage that caused your powers to go out of control. You will get through this… WE will get through this. Just remember that you are part of a family, not just a team."
Across the expansive property, Marie and Logan were under the aforementioned Elm tree, having what some people would call a "loving" conversation. Those same people would be impaled by adamantium claws if they ever referred to the Wolverine as "loving".
"Marie, I know I said this a million times already but… I'm sorry for leaving ya kid. If I could take back the last 6 months, just to see you again, I would."
"Logan, stop it. You already apologized." Her brown eyes met his. As if by instinct, his hand passed through her hair, careful not to touch her lethal skin.
"But Marie…"
"But nothing. I understand. You had some things to work out. You're such a guilt-magnet!"
"Marie, when that gas hit me, it burned. All I could think about was one thing… getting back here, to you."
"Logan, you don't have to say it…" Marie's heart was racing at a mile a minute. Was Logan going to finally say it? Did he feel the same way as she did? Oh God, this can't be happening – this is too good to be true, she thought.
"Yeah I do darlin", Logan said as he took Marie's gloved hands into his and gently pressed them against his chest. "Marie, I love you." Even before the words got out, the girl's mind went into sensory overload. In a flash of visions mixed with fantasy, she could see the two of them living, loving, getting married, raising a family, and growing old together… that is, until she heard and processed Logan's next words. "I love you more than a friend… you're like family (more than that, but how much more?). I never had any, not any I can remember. But from the very first moment I saw you, talked to you…"
"Logan, I love you too (more than you'll ever know)", Marie looked down at her hands on his chest. She was trying to hide tears that threatened to roll down her soft cheeks at any moment. Was this how she pictured it? Logan, coming back from his trip, pledging his love for her… but like a sister? She tried to put on her strongest face and looked up. "I'm so glad you're back. Waitin' for you was gettin' to be a drag…" A faint smile appeared on her face.
The kid's being strong, Logan thought to himself. He could sense her elation slowly turning into disappointment. I got to make my feelings clear to her. I can't lose her, and I don't want to push her away while I sort things out either! "Marie, you are the most precious thing in my life. You're my reason to live." He squeezed her hands a little tighter and noticed the girl's face brighten. "I love you more than anyone or anything in this world, kid. I always will. I know that now."
Logan was not prepared for the monster hug he received as his last words wafted into the air. Marie rested her head on his shoulder, and Logan stroked her hair, again being very careful. He was the only person in the mansion who was not afraid of touching her. "Thank You Logan", she whispered softly, and the two of them held that embrace for what seemed like an eternity.
~~~~
Ororo sat in the rec room, staring at the television news programs. She always took time off to just to relax after a hard day's classes. Those kids, bless their hearts, were a pain. A constant pain in the neck on days when she wasn't feeling particularly chipper. But today was worse. For the past 2 weeks, the kids can speak of nothing but Logan's return, his adventures during the Big Bang (which have grown to Legendary proportions), and all the rumors about he and Marie. It doesn't help that he sits with her at meals, treats her like a porcelain doll in the martial arts class, and actually SMILES whenever she says his name. Anyhow, this is my time, she thought, just relax and watch the…
"This is a CNN headline News Special Report. The scenes you are watching were shot live just 15 minutes ago from a local news helicopter in the city of Dakota. As you can see, a large structure, believed to be a tenement slum housing local drug dealing gangs, is being burned down to the ground."
"Oh my Go…", uttered Ororo. It wasn't the burning building that made her gasp. It was when the camera focused on a group of young men standing outside the entrance. One if them looked like he was glowing red or yellow. There looked like there were flames on his hands. And then she almost jumped out of her seat as she saw an arc of flames shoot out from his fists and into the building. "A mutant!"
"From what we can make out, it looks like a band of mutants has attacked this building. These attacks have been reported throughout the city, but none has ever been captured on video. Since the days of the riots, rumors of super-powered mutant gang members have been circulating, but none corroborated, perhaps until now. Wait it looks like there some more activity on the ground…"
Ororo, and the rest of the nation, she imagined, watched in shock as a young man in a leather baseball cap and shades emitted a blue electrical glow. He floated up, halfway between the ground and the helicopter, and then pointed at the news camera. A flash of electrical energy was the last thing the news camera caught before it all turned to static. Ororo was so entranced by the video images that she didn't acknowledge the Professor's mental call-to-arms until he was practically screaming inside her mind.
"ORORO!"
"Yes, Professor, I'm sorry. I was watching…"
"I know. We saw it too in the Ready Room. Please join me and the others up here as soon as possible. We have a more serious problem than we thought."
"Professor, how could these mutants attack, or even exist without you being able to catch them first with Cerebro?"
"That's just it Storm… Cerebro doesn't detect them."
Next Chapter: "First Contact"The X-Men head back to Dakota to investigate these mutants that can't be detected through Cerebro. With Wolverine leading the way, they meet up with Dakota's newest urban menace… face to face! Combat time!