A Past and a Future
Never thought I'd have another X-men story in me, but I got bitten by a persistent muse and am slowly hashing it out. My usual MO is to only post a complete story, but I thought I'd upload this intro chapter just to let people know I live. The story takes place after "To Save a Wolverine", so to understand what happened before this, you need to read it first. On with the show!
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The young man standing before a large oak desk was looking fidgety, tugging slightly at the collar of his camouflage fatigues that looked like they came from a surplus store. He had no rank on the material, just a small name patch on the front with 'Carter' on it and the letters AAM on his left arm. In spite of the cool air inside the room, he was sweating slightly at the temples, intimidated by the man watching him closely from the leather desk chair that resided behind the desk. The young pilot had heard about this group, good things about how they researched ways to handle and control mutants. His group's commander, Kinley, had been a great admirer. Before he died. Before he was killed… by that son of a b-…
"My sergeant tells me you have information regarding a mutant hideout." The smooth voice interrupted his thoughts, jerking attention back to the man he'd come to see. Carter swallowed before continuing.
"Yes sir. We had planned an attack on it, but what we encountered was even more than we had expected. I'm the only one who made it out of the operation. Even our commander was…" He stopped suddenly, looking regretful at how AAM's numbers had been decimated during a carefully planned mission forced into early action. The man interviewing him waited patiently enough on the outside, but inwardly he was seething. This low-level, low class soldier wannabe had been putting the word out that he had intel on a powerful group of mutants he'd encountered while carrying on the fight against inhumanity. Oh, he'd heard of the group called Americans Against Mutants but, in his opinion, they were just another fanatic group without the real knowledge or wherewithal to do what needed to be done. Granted, the support they'd received from certain scientists over the past months was slightly above standard, but paled in regard to his own efforts and progress. It was with growing impatience that he watched the young pilot fidget and twitch under his gaze. After all, whatever financial backing AAM had received before had dried up, according to his sources. They had nothing to offer him, nothing at all.
"It's all right son, tell us what happened," he said, sure that the story would be short and fruitless. Might as well get this over with so he could go about more important matters. Carter nodded and seemed to gain a little courage.
"I was piloting the main chopper on the mission. We'd followed the signal of a tracker implanted in a captured mutant, and made it there in time to recon before dark. All seemed quiet enough as the units converged on the large mansion. But then through the radios we heard terrible things, screams and gunfire… shouts." He swallowed again, eyes wide. "I stayed my position, ready to come in for extraction if needed, when Commander Kinley radioed with great urgency, telling me to meet him on the roof, that he was being pursued. Not much later at the rendezvous point I saw him burst through the rooftop door, running like the devil himself was after him. Maybe that's true, because about three seconds behind was a man, I'm assuming a mutant. He had chased the commander up to the roof and seemed intent on murder. Commander Kinley managed to jump to the 'copter and get inside, but that mutie jumped too and grabbed hold of us somehow, probably the strut. We dipped sharply and the commander fell out, grabbing onto that mutant. Scary bastard, that one, sir. He actually committed suicide just to get to our leader. I saw them dropping to the ground below as I lifted off. It was the strangest thing… He was holding knives in his hands as he fell. I could see them glinting in the lights of the mansion grounds. Three thin blades in each hand." The statement had a profound effect on the man behind the desk, who sat forward abruptly, eyeglasses gleaming briefly under the fluorescent lighting. "But he's dead now, at least, along with Commander Kinley," the young pilot continued, oblivious to the sudden interest in his story as he stared down at the carpeted floor. The man behind the desk gestured toward his second, a man standing at-ease to his left.
"Sergeant Lyman, ready a briefing in two hours. I want all commanding personnel in on this." The tall soldier at his command nodded briskly and left the room. "Now, please continue. Where did you say this mansion was located?" he asked the startled pilot in front of him. Something to offer him, indeed… Fingers absently moved to straighten the nameplate on his desk that bore the name 'William Stryker'.