Prologue:
"Congratulations Director Haytin, on your new appointment."
Marcus John Haytin, the new Director of the National Security Taskforce, spun around in surprise. His appointment was still explicitly top-secret, unknown even to high ranking government officials. It was now four years after the Apocalypse disaster, and the government was doing everything in its power to avoid a second mutant-related catastrophe, including expanding its investigative techniques by hiring Haytin, former head of CIA intelligence accumulations (a technical term for master interrogator). A look of shock registered on his face upon recognition of the speaker, until his CIA training kicked in, revealing only a certain unhurried nonchalance that Haytin was definitely not feeling at being confronted this late at night.
"Thank you, Mr. Riley." He turned back around and headed across the street towards the theater where he had left his wife's purse. Riley followed.
"Well, I see you do know your stuff, eh? And please," grabbing Haytin's arm, "You can call me Lucas."
Haytin jerked his arm out of Lucas Riley's grasp. "What can I do for you, Mr. Riley? He asked forcefully, yet trying not to be so rude as to enrage him, knowing that with one sweep of his hand, Lucas could certainly end Haytin's life. "I have many things to take care of right now, if you don't mind."
"Take it easy; we wouldn't want you to have a heart attack and be found lying in the street somewhere, now would we? Your wife's purse can wait. It will stay in the lost and found until you get there." Lucas smirked menacingly. "You obviously know who I am, Director, so you must know what I can do." Lucas Riley was the evil alter-ego of David Haller, the son of the most powerful telepath in the world, Professor Charles Xavier, and therefore had inherited a considerable portion of his powers along with advanced abilities in morphing, pyrotic combustion, and telekinesis.
"Of course. I know all about you," he replied, "It's my job. Now, what do you want?"
"Well," Lucas began, his Scottish brogue unmistakable, "It's more of a question of what we can do for each other. I have 'heard' that you are planning to ask Xavier to use his little X-Men as your contingents for your 'anti-mutant threat' campaign. I only want to help."
Haytin looked at him incredulously. "What do you mean by help? You know which list you're on. What's in it for you?"
Lucas grinned. "Of course, I know that you were planning on attempting to detain me, so I decided to save you all the damage and blood loss by convincing," Lucas' eyes flashed deviously, "the X-Men to help your cause."
"And what makes you think I need your help? What if Xavier consents? You have wasted your time." Haytin sneered at him. "I could have them take care of you easily."
"You Americans and your sense of humor. Really, it cracks me up." Lucas peered intently at Haytin's forehead. "Ha! You're bluffing. You know Xavier would never consent to you using the X-Men as mercenaries. I knew you were too smart to live on 'what ifs'. You need my help, because without it you won't get past Xavier. And even if he was taken care of, you still wouldn't convince the X-Men. They're all the same. No sense of the thrill of monetary gain."
"Is that want you want, Lucas, money? I am on a budget, you know."
"Of course I know. But unlike some of my contemporaries, I am not in it for the money. I could have as much as I want, of course. No, I am willing to help you in the name of revenge. And power, obviously. With Xavier gone, I will be the most powerful mutant in the world, you'll have your mercenaries, and I'll have my revenge."
"That's what you want? Are you mad? I can't let you be that powerful, you'll ruin my plans . . . I mean . . . uh," Haytin bit his tongue.
"Oh, I know all about your little plans. But, without me, they'll never come to fruition. Don't worry, though," he continued, "I'll be out of your way soon enough. I'll be off living on my own island, which you will award me, and you will be . . . oh yeah, that's a secret. Unless you cross me, then I will have to kill you." Lucas looked at him threateningly.
"So what do you say, eh, Director?"
Haytin glared at him, eyes full of hate. "I'm screwed if I do, and royally screwed if I don't." Lucas grinned. "It's a deal."
Lucas shook Haytin's hand, and then slowly began ascending into the sky, rising higher and higher until he disappeared from Haytin's view. Haytin shook his head pessimistically. He started walking once again toward the theater, all the while thinking how much more complicated his job had just become. "Oh, shit!" Haytin ejaculated vehemently as he was retrieving the lost purse. It surprised the lost and found attendant so much that he tripped backwards over his chair and later had to be taken to the hospital for a bruised coccyx, but he was one of the many unnoticed by Haytin, who had already walked out the doors.