Chapter 3
Top Secret
Personal Findings Report
Over the many months since I have brought them in, both Summers and Grey have become obvious assets. Summers has a penchant for leadership and tactics that is an unexpected bonus, particularly tempered with Grey's natural empathy, the two make a great pair to build a larger force from.
If you take a look at the field training analyses that accompany this, I believe you will be equally as impressed with what they have learned and how far they have progressed since we were able to respond to their unique needs. It is my hope that they be considered immediately usable in the field and that you will grant me the additional funding needed to continue to build this team. I already have two additional mutants I would like to bring in. I believe their talents will help offset the weaknesses Summers and Grey have and vice versa. I do, however, understand the reluctance to recruit these two particular mutants. Their bios are also attached.
I would also like to thank you for granting me access to the mutant known as Forge, his unique gifts are much appreciated.
Dr. Valerie Cooper, Project Lead
X-Factor Project
"Are you certain we are ready for this?" Hank asked as he crouched next to the giant round computer console. He wore now a blue and gold costume without boots or gloves, so as to allow full use of his dexterous appendages. Warren had found them in a closet down here, assuming that Professor Xavier had intended for his students to wear them when active, he had given them out and modified them as needed.
"We're as ready as we're ever going to get." Warren responded, wearing a similar costume, but with opening in the back to allow for his wings.
Bobby, too, wore one of the costumes, though his was mostly obscured with a sheet of ice that he had learned to create around himself providing some measure of protection. "I say lets do it, guys, I've been itching to get out and into some real action!"
"Its settled then, don't forget when we are out there, we go by the code names we all came up with." Warren then tapped the 'X' symbol on his belt "And collectively, we are called the X-Men."
They all nodded. Warren continued, "Alright, Beast, Iceman, to the blackbird!"
The jet rose from the rubble of the mansion's back yard through a hidden hanger door with Beast at the controls. The target: a simple stolen armored car. But you have to start somewhere.
The car had headed out of the city, according to the news reports and police scanner. It was now speeding through Westchester County. In a matter of seconds, the X-Men's jet was over it. There were nearly a dozen police cars in close pursuit.
"Auto pilot engaged, War...er, Angel."
"Alright guys, this is for real. Remember all that time in the danger room. We can do this. Iceman, your up first."
Iceman stepped to the lower hatch of the plane as Angel triggered it open. They were a scant twenty feet above the armored car. He noted the cops had backed off on seeing the jet, probably unsure of just what it meant.
Iceman concentrated and focused his powers tighter than he ever had before. The reinforced front window of the car frosted over and was soon coated in ice as Iceman attempted to drop the temperature of it as close to absolute zero as possible.
Angel then nodded to Beast who stepped in front of him. Angel grabbed Beast under his arms and the pair leapt from the plane. Angel's wings flexed wide and the pair glided over the car. Angel dropped Beast on the hood then circled around behind the car where the robbers had thrown open the doors to fire at the cops.
Angel deftly dodged all of the sloppy gunshots from the thug in the rear, till he went to reload, then the winged mutant made his move. With one last hard stroke of his wings, he extended both fists forward then tucked his wings in close as he entered the car. The force of the two-fisted punch sent the thug flying all the way to the front wall of the car. The thug tried to rise and bring his gun back up, but Angel was quicker. With a sharp kick, he sent the weapon flying from the thugs injured hand then with a simple backhand punch he rendered the thug unconscious.
Beast allowed to the thug up front to do some of his work for him; He was shooting the window attempting to strike the large mutant on the hood. With the windshield frozen, the bullets were making tiny cracks across it though still not penetrating it. Out of ammo, the thug then decided to try and dislodge him the old fashioned way and swerved all over the road.
Beast gripped the roof of the car tightly for balance as he leaped with both feet then swung them down shattering through the now fragile glass. One more swift kick across the thugs face and he was out. With his toes, Beast gripped the steering wheel with one foot and the emergency brake with the other and slowly brought the vehicle to a stop on the side of the road.
Police quickly surrounded them as Angel walked up front to join Beast. The blackbird hovered overhead. "Freeze!" Shouted one of the officers, gun aimed at the two mutants.
Angel and Beast exchanged worried glances. "Begging your pardons, officers, but my associates and I just saved the day, in case you missed it." Beast said calmly, smiling all the while.
Angel took a step forward, hands up for the police to see. "Sir, we are the X-Men, and we mean you no harm, we are here to help."
"I said freeze!" the officer shouted again. Angel stopped in his tracks.
"If you insist!" came the reply from up above, from Iceman. He stood at the hatch to the jet and let loose with blast after blast of ice, erecting a dome around the officers with their guns drawn. Angel grabbed Beast and flew to the plane. In moments, they were streaking away through the sky.
Angel sunk down into a seat, his wings up and out to avoid crushing them. "That was great guys! Next time, though, I want to be on the ground!" Said Iceman, dropping his icy armor and grinning ear to ear.
"Great?" said Angel, standing as his voice raised in intensity, "Great?! Do you realize what you just did? You assaulted a police officer! They put you in jail for a very long time for that!"
Bobby blinked a time or tow, flabbergasted by Warren's anger. "But, they were going to arrest you two! Or shoot you! I had to do something."
"Bobby is right, Warren." Chimed in Hank from the pilot's chair, "It was a bad situation, he simply made the best of it. He chose the only option that would insure survival for us."
Warren glared at Hank. Then closed his eyes for a minute and sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry, Bobby. I wasn't really angry with you. You did good, kid." He said, smiling at the young man. "Why did the cops come after us in the first place, couldn't they see we're the good guys?"
"Sometimes, my friend, things are not as simple as that." Hank replied, "The police do not know who we are, they did what they thought was right."
Warren shook his head. "Still, it makes me wonder.
The tavern was dark, dank and dirty, as one would expect from a biker bar, especially one this far off the beaten path. There was no sign of civilization outside of the place for many dozens of miles. Yet, this place remained busy, as proven by the large number of motorcycles parked out front.
The woman that entered the tavern now seemed quite out of place. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and beneath her long coat she wore a neat dark blue business outfit. The sound of billiard balls smacking against one another, drunken belches and a myriad of odors she didn't even want to guess at.
Avoiding the leering stares, she located the man she was looking for and took a seat opposite him at his small corner table. The man across from her had wildly unkempt dirty blonde hair with long sideburns. He was tall and heavily muscled, which was still obvious beneath the heavy coat he wore. He threw back a shot of whiskey then eyed her carefully, letting one side of his mouth roll back in a threatening smile as it revealed an oversized tooth.
"So," started the big man, in a low growling voice, "Who needs to be dead? Or 'm I to stop the getting dead part?"
"It's...not quite so simple this time. We are after something a bit more...long term." Replied Val, uneasily.
The pupil less eyes narrowed as he paused with yet another shot glass held to his lips. He slowly lowered it. "What do ya mean by 'long term', blondie?"
Val steadied herself and went on, "The group I am in charge of is a government sanctioned and funded mutant strike team. We often operate separately from the law and the members of the group will enjoy a certain amount of...protection on some legal matters as well. It's a good steady paycheck as well, Mr. Creed."
Creed took another shot. Then he filled the glass again from the bottle on the table and pushed it to Val. She raised a hand in protest saying, "I'm sorry, I don't drink that."
Creed smiled his toothy, threatening smile once more, "Yes ya do, blondie, or I let all a the dirty, filthy swine here know just how much fun they can have with ya."
Val's eyes went wide in alarm at the insinuation and she looked around quickly. Taking a deep breath, she took the drink and swallowed it in one gulp. Then she doubled over coughing as the liquid burned all the way down. Creed erupted in a fit of laughter, a sound far more frightening than Val would have imagined.
He reached over and patted her on the back as she continued coughing. "Blondie, I like you. I think I'll take a look at this program a yours."
The Apache warrior ran free in the deep red sands of Arizona. His well-toned arms pumped blood continuously and his strong legs churned the earth below him. To be fair, he had let the bison have a head start. Now, though, he was closing the distance between them at a remarkable rate.
Coming up alongside the animal, the man reached out with bare hands and grasped the bison's horns. The beast, of course, protested. It thrashed its massive head this way and that attempting to dislodge the Apache's grip. The Apache, however, was the stronger. Tightening his grip with both hands, he braced his legs against the ground and soon brought himself and the animal to a complete halt by sheer strength alone. The beast again protested, but again the Apache was victorious.
The creature made a most unhappy sound, and stomped it legs, but the Apache whispered into its ear and stroked its head. Moments later, the beast wandered slowly away, no longer enraged.
The Apache approached a stone where he had left his shirt, boots and canteen. He took a deep draw of the water held within the military style canteen, the poured much of the rest of it over his head and shoulders, washing away the dirt and sweat. As he put his shirt back on, the trespasser he had been aware of hiding behind a bunch of rocks finally made her presence known.
"Corporal Proudstar." Began the woman. He spun angrily on her.
"I am not in the army any longer, woman, do not address me as Corporal."
Val was briefly stunned, but continued regardless. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that was a sore subject for you. What would you like me to address you as?"
He stared at her for a long moment. "How about 'John'?"
Val nodded. "Okay, John, I'm Val, Val Cooper." She offered her hand. He turned his back on her.
"John, the government has need of you again."
John stiffened. He slowly turned to face her. "What, you need another red man to fill some sort of quota? Look like your including us in the white mans government? Sorry, sister, not today. You may have drafted me and forced me to work for you, kill for you back in 'Nam, but not now, not again." With that he picked up his few things and started off towards the settlement.
"John wait! You served with distinction in the army. You earned a number of metals and citations. You were a war hero."
He yelled back over his shoulder, "I was only what you people forced me to be."
"But your record, its impeccable. I know you want the chance to prove yourself again. To fight the good fight. I'm building a team of mutants, like you, to help defend this country against other super-powered threats. We need your help. I know you want this kind of chance again, John, I know you do." Val dared to raise her voice.
He never stopped walking. Laughing he called back, "Oh? Just how do you know that?"
"Because I know you're record inside and out. You were never drafted, John, you volunteered." That made him stop.
He turned to face her, his expression resigned. "Do not say that to anyone else here. Everyone believes I was drafted. If they knew I volunteered to fight..." He sighed deeply, "I will hear what you have to say."
Erik Lensherr paced as he heard the reports. Several witnesses reported seeing a strangely familiar black jet in New York State. With three men, dressed in outfits that sounded familiar to him as well, exiting the plane to stop and armored car robbery.
Stranger still, several of the mutants he and Charles had been keeping tabs as likely students had disappeared, seemingly without a trace. It seemed someone, or ones, have been recruiting mutants. Erik had a handful he had happened upon come with him to build this base in the Antarctic, but perhaps it was time for him to become more active now.
He turned to his second in command. "Mystique, bring me the Xavier files and prepare to leave. We have some hunting to do."