Chapter Twenty-Eight:
Let Freedom Ring
The President was getting ready to make his speech on live television.
"Are you sure I should use the word 'annihilate'," he asked his communications writer reading the speech over one last time.
"Yea, people will love it," he replied.
"Kennedy never used the word annihilate," he mumbled childishly. "And he would have been reelected."
"Kennedy was assassinated," the writer replied impudently.
"I went to grade school," the president replied.
"And we're live," the cameraman began. "In five-four-three-two-" A streak of lightning flashed across the darkening sky as the power went out.
"What happened," asked the president. "Are we still on?"
No one answered. No one even seemed to know what he had asked. Everyone and everything was completely still, it was almost as if they were frozen in time.
With another stroke of lightening the room was momentarily brightened the room, reveling twelve strange forms in the room. He stood in anticipation looking them over.
He was utterly surprised to see the blue skinned man who had attacked him waving a strange two-fingered wave from his seat on an end table by the fireplace.
The man in the wheelchair was known as Charles Xavier, the most powerful mutant alive, funny he should show up, today of all days, the day he would have condemned all mutants to hell on earth.
One, an African woman, had been referred to in Stryker's database as Ororo Munroe, codenamed Storm, she explained the unusual weather.
The man next to her was Scott Summers, codename: Cyclops; his mutation forced him to hide behind that visor all the time.
Then there was a girl who had been referred to by only a codename: Rogue.
There was Bobby Drake, Ruby Marx, Carmen Turner, Cameron Elva, Fallon Vassar, Opal Jordan, and Katherine Rivers. All mutants, all students at the Xavier institute.
Then there was the man standing back and to the left of the group, Logan, also called Wolverine, he was the group's backup. If a problem arose, he'd be the one to deal with it. Not that a problem would arise, because he made twelve, and the president was indisputably outnumbered.
"Good afternoon, Mr. President," said Xavier. "Please, sit down."
"I'd rather stand, actually," replied the president.
"We've come in to discus the matters at hand," Xavier continued.
"I don't respond well to threats," said the President.
"I assure you this is no threat," said Xavier. The girl called Rogue stepped forward set a folder on his desk and fell back into ranks next to Cyclops. "These were taken from the private office of William Stryker."
"I've never seen these before," said the president.
"I know," answered Xavier.
"How did you get these," asked the president.
"Let's just say I know a little girl who can walk through walls."
"Does Mr. Stryker know about this?"
"Sadly, Mr. Stryker is no longer with us."
"Sadly my ass," mumbled Logan.
"What did you do to him," demanded the president.
"William Stryker's death was the result of a tragic accident," said Xavier. "You see now is the time to relook our principles and save the world from more pain. The struggle has not been easy, there have been casualties on both sides, but they do not have to be in vain. The choice is yours, but remember, we'll be watching."
With another flash of lightening they were gone. Motion returned and people were pointing at the teleprompter in a panic. With a deep breath he opened his mouth to tell the country exactly what he needed to say.
Let Freedom Ring
The President was getting ready to make his speech on live television.
"Are you sure I should use the word 'annihilate'," he asked his communications writer reading the speech over one last time.
"Yea, people will love it," he replied.
"Kennedy never used the word annihilate," he mumbled childishly. "And he would have been reelected."
"Kennedy was assassinated," the writer replied impudently.
"I went to grade school," the president replied.
"And we're live," the cameraman began. "In five-four-three-two-" A streak of lightning flashed across the darkening sky as the power went out.
"What happened," asked the president. "Are we still on?"
No one answered. No one even seemed to know what he had asked. Everyone and everything was completely still, it was almost as if they were frozen in time.
With another stroke of lightening the room was momentarily brightened the room, reveling twelve strange forms in the room. He stood in anticipation looking them over.
He was utterly surprised to see the blue skinned man who had attacked him waving a strange two-fingered wave from his seat on an end table by the fireplace.
The man in the wheelchair was known as Charles Xavier, the most powerful mutant alive, funny he should show up, today of all days, the day he would have condemned all mutants to hell on earth.
One, an African woman, had been referred to in Stryker's database as Ororo Munroe, codenamed Storm, she explained the unusual weather.
The man next to her was Scott Summers, codename: Cyclops; his mutation forced him to hide behind that visor all the time.
Then there was a girl who had been referred to by only a codename: Rogue.
There was Bobby Drake, Ruby Marx, Carmen Turner, Cameron Elva, Fallon Vassar, Opal Jordan, and Katherine Rivers. All mutants, all students at the Xavier institute.
Then there was the man standing back and to the left of the group, Logan, also called Wolverine, he was the group's backup. If a problem arose, he'd be the one to deal with it. Not that a problem would arise, because he made twelve, and the president was indisputably outnumbered.
"Good afternoon, Mr. President," said Xavier. "Please, sit down."
"I'd rather stand, actually," replied the president.
"We've come in to discus the matters at hand," Xavier continued.
"I don't respond well to threats," said the President.
"I assure you this is no threat," said Xavier. The girl called Rogue stepped forward set a folder on his desk and fell back into ranks next to Cyclops. "These were taken from the private office of William Stryker."
"I've never seen these before," said the president.
"I know," answered Xavier.
"How did you get these," asked the president.
"Let's just say I know a little girl who can walk through walls."
"Does Mr. Stryker know about this?"
"Sadly, Mr. Stryker is no longer with us."
"Sadly my ass," mumbled Logan.
"What did you do to him," demanded the president.
"William Stryker's death was the result of a tragic accident," said Xavier. "You see now is the time to relook our principles and save the world from more pain. The struggle has not been easy, there have been casualties on both sides, but they do not have to be in vain. The choice is yours, but remember, we'll be watching."
With another flash of lightening they were gone. Motion returned and people were pointing at the teleprompter in a panic. With a deep breath he opened his mouth to tell the country exactly what he needed to say.
