Jesse watched Cat leave to board the Helix with
Brennan and Shal. He felt as if a storm was brewing in the horizon, the dark
clouds gathering and distant thunder growling low. He
looked at his team leader, more of a father to him than his own, sitting on the
computer bench, his elbows on his knees, still rubbing his eyes. Adam seldom
looked tired or dispirited. On these rare occasions, the problem they faced had
been almost overwhelming, almost impossible to overcome, but, somehow, they
always did. They always managed to come out on top, and, amazingly, never a
team mate had been seriously injured. They had never lost a team mate before.
The worst loss so far had been this one, Allison Turner. She had been one of
the original Mutant X members, part of Adam's original draft, but had chosen to
work for the Underground instead. And she had died, probably, because of her
connection to the Underground. Jesse now wondered if they were running out of
luck.
Lifting his head from his hands, Adam looked at each mutant around him. These
were his most trusted, better trained, most reliable allies. Emma, the intense
psionic, powerful beyond belief, yet compassionate, fair, and sensitive. Even
without any powers, she would, most likely, be a terrific therapist. She had
all the makings of a great psychoanalist. Jesse, his technical right hand., his
computer expert, a rock with a heart of pure, unblemished gold. And his
firebrand of a girlfriend, the turbulent Revolution. Never a nickname fit so well
both looks and temperament. A telekinetic capable of lifting either a mountain
from its base or a baby from his crib without a stir, yet a demon when
commanding a computer keyboard. And he thought about those who were absent,
working to make sure other genetically altered men, women and children could
have a measure of safety: Brennan, his powerhouse; Shalimar, the fierce, the
first called on to join his troops, the one remaining by his side, and Cat, his
other feline, only now emerging from the darkest pits of depression to take her
rightful place on his small, but remarkable army. And last but not least,
Angela, the falcon half-breed, his bird-of-prey. Older, wiser, brilliant,
competent, dependable. As good a doctor in her field as he was himself in his.
And loyal. Loyal as only falcons can be. The moment she called him falconer, he
knew she would go with him to the seventh circle of hell, if necessary. This
time, maybe it would be.
"Riley, Emma, the assassinations around the globe have come to the attention of
Menachem's organization," Adam informed his team. "He told me there is a
mercenary terrorist at large. Nobody knows his name, what he looks like, where
he comes from. The modus operandi and the outcome of the attacks indicate that
only one person is responsible. The wide range of victims indicate a hit man
who hires his services to the higher bidder and has no qualms about killing
anyone, men, women or children. Menachem said the cases are always the same,
the characteristics of an SHC case, but with fundamental differences." Adam
stopped and looked around at his team mates, who listened in silence to his
every word. "The Japanese businessmen: three victims, three offices, almost no
structural damage, but Menachem told me every scrap of paper in their offices
burned. The Pakistani and the Palestinian were obvious targets. The English
doctor's office also burned completely. The Australian physicist's work on an
alternative cheap and clean power source that would render all other known
fuels obsolete was totally lost in a fire that left all furniture intact." Adam
stopped again and drew a deep breath. "And there was the child prodigy in
Florida. According to Menachem, the boy was the son of a Cuban drug dealer with
contacts all over Latin-America and the Far East, namely the biggest importer
of base cocaine and base heroine in the US." He lowered his head. "The boy was
killed slowly, while his parents watched and could do nothing to save him. His
mother was severely burned trying to put out the fire that consumed her son
from the inside out."
The mutants were silent, looking down at their feet. This was horror beyond
their expectations. This time, they would face a cold and dangerous killer as
they had never encountered before.
"Adam, I think it is obvious. Don't you?" offered Angela, lifting her head to
look at her falconer.
"Absolutely," he agreed. "It must be a mutant. Menachem told me the killer's
code name. And his organization. This murderer is known as the Salamander."
"And the organization that backs him up?" asked Jesse.
Adam looked directly to Emma. "It's the New Order."
Jesse watched Cat leave to board the Helix with
Brennan and Shal. He felt as if a storm was brewing in the horizon, the dark
clouds gathering and distant thunder growling low. He
looked at his team leader, more of a father to him than his own, sitting on the
computer bench, his elbows on his knees, still rubbing his eyes. Adam seldom
looked tired or dispirited. On these rare occasions, the problem they faced had
been almost overwhelming, almost impossible to overcome, but, somehow, they
always did. They always managed to come out on top, and, amazingly, never a
team mate had been seriously injured. They had never lost a team mate before.
The worst loss so far had been this one, Allison Turner. She had been one of
the original Mutant X members, part of Adam's original draft, but had chosen to
work for the Underground instead. And she had died, probably, because of her
connection to the Underground. Jesse now wondered if they were running out of
luck.
Lifting his head from his hands, Adam looked at each mutant around him. These
were his most trusted, better trained, most reliable allies. Emma, the intense
psionic, powerful beyond belief, yet compassionate, fair, and sensitive. Even
without any powers, she would, most likely, be a terrific therapist. She had
all the makings of a great psychoanalist. Jesse, his technical right hand., his
computer expert, a rock with a heart of pure, unblemished gold. And his
firebrand of a girlfriend, the turbulent Revolution. Never a nickname fit so
well both looks and temperament. A telekinetic capable of lifting either a
mountain from its base or a baby from his crib without a stir, yet a demon when
commanding a computer keyboard. And he thought about those who were absent,
working to make sure other genetically altered men, women and children could
have a measure of safety: Brennan, his powerhouse; Shalimar, the fierce, the
first called on to join his troops, the one remaining by his side, and Cat, his
other feline, only now emerging from the darkest pits of depression to take her
rightful place on his small, but remarkable army. And last but not least,
Angela, the falcon half-breed, his bird-of-prey. Older, wiser, brilliant,
competent, dependable. As good a doctor in her field as he was himself in his.
And loyal. Loyal as only falcons can be. The moment she called him falconer, he
knew she would go with him to the seventh circle of hell, if necessary. This
time, maybe it would be.
"Riley, Emma, the assassinations around the globe have come to the attention of
Menachem's organization," Adam informed his team. "He told me there is a
mercenary terrorist at large. Nobody knows his name, what he looks like, where
he comes from. The modus operandi and the outcome of the attacks indicate that
only one person is responsible. The wide range of victims indicate a hit man
who hires his services to the higher bidder and has no qualms about killing
anyone, men, women or children. Menachem said the cases are always the same,
the characteristics of an SHC case, but with fundamental differences." Adam
stopped and looked around at his team mates, who listened in silence to his
every word. "The Japanese businessmen: three victims, three offices, almost no
structural damage, but Menachem told me every scrap of paper in their offices
burned. The Pakistani and the Palestinian were obvious targets. The English
doctor's office also burned completely. The Australian physicist's work on an
alternative cheap and clean power source that would render all other known
fuels obsolete was totally lost in a fire that left all furniture intact." Adam
stopped again and drew a deep breath. "And there was the child prodigy in
Florida. According to Menachem, the boy was the son of a Cuban drug dealer with
contacts all over Latin-America and the Far East, namely the biggest importer
of base cocaine and base heroine in the US." He lowered his head. "The boy was
killed slowly, while his parents watched and could do nothing to save him. His
mother was severely burned trying to put out the fire that consumed her son
from the inside out."
The mutants were silent, looking down at their feet. This was horror beyond
their expectations. This time, they would face a cold and dangerous killer as
they had never encountered before.
"Adam, I think it is obvious. Don't you?" offered Angela, lifting her head to
look at her falconer.
"Absolutely," he agreed. "It must be a mutant. Menachem told me the killer's
code name. And his organization. This murderer is known as the Salamander."
"And the organization that backs him up?" asked Jesse.
Adam looked directly to Emma. "It's the New Order."
Emma sighed heavily and stretched her hands to
the sky. Revolution paced around the lab floor, while Jesse and Angela
attempted a half-hearted game of chess. Adam was off in his office knee deep in
another conversation with one of his sources.
"This is the worst part," whispered Emma.
Jesse looked at his girlfriend. "Rev,
honey, be a dear and sit down?" he asked "You're making us all more
jumpy."
Revolution smiled sheepishly. "I just wish there was something we could be
doing." she whispered.
Emma patted her hand. "We all do," she replied.
Revolution smiled and turned to the computer.
"When all else fails..." said Jesse winking at Angela.
Revolution turned towards him and stuck her tongue out. Pulling her hair out of
her face, she accessed the security cameras.
"What are you doing?" asked Angela.
"Nothing really," replied Revolution "Just running some test,
make sure our Fort Knox is...Fort Knoxish."
"What's that?" asked Emma, as the older Psionic leaned across the
desk.
"What's what?"
Emma pointed to a car speeding through the underground tunnel.
"I don't know." whispered Revolution her body rigid with nerves
"I'm thinking we better go down there for a little meet-and-greet."
Emma nodded. "Adam, we have
visitors," she exclaimed over the intercom.
"I'm on my way," he said.
Lux Windsor looked around the dark tunnel and smiled at Jax McManus. "They
all think we're attacking them," she whispered.
The feral laughed as she lifted two duffel bags from the back of the car.
"Jeez...these damn things are #%$ heavy," she exclaimed louder than
she expected.
"Whoever they are," whispered Angela "They're certainly not
quiet."
Revolution laughed as a thickly accented voice let off a string of curses that
would make the toughest biker blush. "JAX!" she yelled.
Jax looked up and smiled. "Well, if it ain't me tiny Revolution," she
said embracing the girl.
Emma laughed and jogged towards Lux. The two Psionics stood face to face, both
grinning brightly. "Hello, friend," said Emma.
"Hello, friend," exclaimed Lux.
Adam walked over with Jesse and Angela in tow. He wasn't as surprised to see
Lux as the others. The young leader had a knack of being where she was needed.
"
Being a precognitive mind reader doesn't hurt," whispered a voice in
his head.
Adam laughed and embraced her.
Angela hung back with Jesse. "Now who is she?" she asked.
"Lux Windsor."
"And the other one?"
"Jax McManus, her bodyguard."
Jesse looked at the two new arrivals. They really were the definition of an odd
couple. Lux, who was dressed in black pants, a white tank top and a leather
trench coat was a mystery. Meanwhile, Jax, who wore a pair of patchwork
overalls and an emerald t-shirt, was exactly what she seemed. A brash, tough,
Irish woman who could swear and drink with the best. Lux looked like the leader
of an underground Mutant group, Jax on the other hand looked like a normal
person.
Untill ya piss her off.Jesse laughed and embraced Lux.
Jax looked at Angela. "Who the hell are you?" she asked.
