Prologue

There were certain things that most mutants preferred to avoid and certain places they would most definitely stay away from - the FoH, for one. Anti-mutant rallies, to mention another. And depressingly gray prison cells at the local police station, in the company of someone who pretended to be a civilian and failed miserably. Duthie knew military when he saw it, and the guy in front of him was as military as they got.

"You're sixteen, aren't you?" The man asked, finally breaking the heavy silence in the room.

Duthie shifted on the chair, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. "Yeah," he mumbled and looked away. At least he didn't have a hangover. Christ...he should've known something was wrong with that girl. She'd looked too sober to be in that club, his instincts had pointed that out, and why hadn't he just listened to them for once?

Because you were drunk and she was pulling off your clothes? his inner voice suggested, and yes, there was a bit of truth in that, but he certainly wasn't about to admit that to anyone else.

"Sixteen," the man repeated, and Duthie was oddly grateful that he didn't have to stand the silence anymore. "You shouldn't have to go to prison - you're too young to handle something like that," he continued, and Duthie could almost delude himself into thinking that the other actually cared. Almost.

Duthie didn't reply - not much to say anyway, and he didn't want to make things worse by saying something stupid. Because this wasn't a good situation, and even his still-hazy mind knew that. He was a mutant, and he was stuck in a police station with people who knew what he was, and no, things did not look good at all.

"But I might be able to help you, Duthie," the other said slowly, and the boy looked up, vague suspicion in his eyes. Humans did not help mutants, and government goons did not use people's first names.

"What do you mean?" he asked, almost against his will, and the man smiled faintly.

"I can help you, if you're willing to help me." He paused and watched the boy for a long moment. "You're not a danger to society, we both know that. You just want to be left alone and live your life, don't you?"

Duthie nodded in agreement, because there wasn't really a point in lying now and he knew that.

"Well, not everybody agrees with you. There are mutants out there who are more than willing to take out their hatred on innocent people, and sometimes we need other mutants' help to bring them in," the man explained patiently, the words sounding suspiciously well-rehearsed.

Need other mutants' help to- Duthie's eyes narrowed at the man as his mind, still hazy from last night's party, caught up with the words. "You want me to-"

"Help us, yes," the man replied. "In return, we'll keep you out of prison and make sure you're cared for. We're not asking you to betray your own kind - we're asking you to help us bring in known criminals."

Same thing, Duthie said silently, not wishing to push his luck. No, he wasn't stupid - his grades might indicate otherwise, but that was just school, and that didn't mean he lacked common sense. He knew what the other was asking, knew that there were mutants working for the humans, using their powers against their own kind. And it wasn't just 'known criminals' they helped bring down - it was mutants and mutant supporters and whoever else were unlucky enough to capture the government's attention, and why did they have to pick him?

His question must have showed in his eyes as the other smiled faintly again. "We picked you because we know about your power, Duthie, and we know that you can make things much easier for us. It's hard to fight if you suddenly go blind and deaf, and that would be a big advantage against the more dangerous mutants out there."

And yes, that made sense, he had to admit that, but why him? He didn't know the first thing about weapons or fighting or mutants, and he wasn't even that good at controlling his power and-

Get a grip on yourself! his inner voice snapped, cutting off the mental ramblings, and Duthie took a deep breath to calm himself down. Ooh, boy. This is...not good. No, not good at all.

"Duthie?" The man raised an eyebrow, and the boy slowly shook his head to clear his mind.

"I'm not - why me?" He asked, gray eyes widening in confusion. "I can't really fight - I can barely control my powers. I'm not..."

"Useful?" the other suggested, and Duthie nodded mutely. "We'll make sure you get the right training to handle it. It's not suicide missions - we don't want you to get killed."

Right, Duthie's more cynical side remarked, but Duthie ignore it. No, he wasn't dumb enough to actually believe everything the man said, but still...what choices did he have? He didn't want to go to prison. "And if I agree?"

The man shrugged, hiding a faint smile at the boy's question. The mutant had already been won over, he knew that. The rest of the argument would just help the boy justify why he should work for them. "If you agree you'll work for us, and we'll take care of you. Food, clothes, accommodations - whatever you need, we'll take care of. In return you'll be part of a black ops force."

He paused but Duthie didn't reply, for once preferring to stay silent and listen instead. "We have several of those teams. One of them, the Jackals, lost one of their members a while back. You'll be there as a replacement. When it comes to missions, your team will take orders from us, but otherwise your commanding officer will be Major Clive Bancroft."

Duthie frowned. He didn't like the military, never had - too strict for him, too much discipline - and working for them wasn't exactly an option he liked. "And if I refuse?"

The man sent him an even look. "Then you'll be sent to prison and left there. You're sixteen and you can't fight...you'll be defenseless."

Duthie winces silently. The guy had a point, he had to admit that. He didn't like the military but the alternative was even worse, and that was saying something.

So...be a prison punch bag or a mutant lapdog, huh?

It didn't have much of a choice, really. He knew that and that the military guy knew that and why was he stalling when he already knew what he would have to choose?

"Duthie?" The man's voice interrupted Duthie's thoughts and he sighed.

"Yeah. All right - we have a deal."