A/N: Cheers for the alerts and the review, people. Here comes chapter two.
Also, "MrJoker0" or something along those lines, I cannot actually reply to your review as you seemed to review anonymously, so you need to log in for that to happen should you review later (which you hopefully will).
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"I'm assuming that you and your family do not have direct access to regular news updates through the television or the newspapers for this, so forgive me if I sound a little patronising." Despite the words, Sinister sounded completely unapologetic for anything.
"Get on with it," the now normal Piotr hissed.
"Patience, Piotr. We need to make sure all the pieces of the puzzle are uncovered before too long, otherwise you shall miss the prize." A small pause, as if Sinister was enjoying delaying all the information. "Alright. In a matter of mere hours, the former KGB supersoldier known as Arkady Rossovich, or Omega Red if you want use his codename, will be in the process of a transfer to a maximum security prison. Unfortunately, the prison systems in this country do not run as efficiently as they do back in America. In this case, the desire of the guards to listen more to the promises of money than their superiors will result in Rossovich breaking out and wreaking havoc on everything in the radius of several miles."
Piotr frowned.
"This is the middle of the countryside. We haven't got any prisons nearby."
"Indeed you don't. However, after the resulting devastation the survivors of Omega Red's attack will demand that documentation be released regarding him, and it will reveal his genetic status as a mutant. Once that is done, the country will rapidly devolve and be submerged in a wave of anti-mutant hysteria. Further documents will be unwillingly leaked regarding the lists of known mutants, and when it does, let's just say you may as well prepare your funerals early. You may not have any prisons nearby, Piotr, but believe me, when the documentation is released you'll certainly have several mobs headed this way."
Both brother and sister analysed the man standing before them. Sinister had been talking about the breakout of an infamous, Cold War-era mass murderer casually enough to begin with, but he had since moved on to discuss the potential genocide of all mutants in Russia as if he was discussing the release of a new film. It wouldn't surprise either of them if they found him casually watching events like these from the safety of his laboratory and writing data down as if this was a casual experiment. And perhaps in several ways, it was to him, considering he would likely be the one bribing the guards and leaking the last set of documents.
"You're hardly warning us out of the goodness of your heart. I'm aware of what people like you do, Sinister. Now tell me, what do you want from us?"
"Excuse me?" Sinister held his hand to his chest, trying to feign surprise at his opponent's accusation. "I have no desire for my own motives to be fuelled at the minute, Piotr. So for once I have decided that out of whatever altruism I possess, I will save at least part of the Rasputin family. You may doubt my motives, but that is of no interest to me, and it certainly isn't going to stop the angry mobs from torching what is left of your farmhouse. So make your mind up soon, Rasputins, or else the words red dawn shall have a completely different meaning for you."
With those last words, Sinister and his Marauders slammed their fists down onto their chest, triggering their teleportation devices and disappearing in a flash of crimson light. The only signs that they had ever been there were a pair of discarded stun guns and the now mostly collapsed building.
"He lies like a snake, Piotr."
"All the same, I doubt he was bluffing about Rossovich's breakout or the sudden backlash that's going to spread around. I think our decision about moving has been made for us."
Ilyana's eyes widened.
"But our parents... they don't know where we are... we may never see them again."
She helplessly looked up as her brother held back a tear.
"If the whole country will soon know we are mutants, it is better they do not. They can't suffer because of us anymore."
Ilyana was the first to break down, and for several minutes the mighty Colossus could do nothing but join in.
Back at the temporary Marauders base that Sinister had set up in the ruins of an old factory, Vertigo stared at her boss with a look of contempt.
"Let me get this straight, boss. You wanted to try a diplomatic approach to the Russian, so you tell us to hold back and don't call any of us in until you are getting your butt handed to you on a platter. Why didn't you anticipate this?"
"On the contrary, Vertigo. I anticipated the attack completely, but on that occasion I was trying to get through urgent negotiations diplomatically. Just because we can use brute force doesn't mean that I should be forced to use it as early as possible. You'll have a chance to deal with your psychotic urges later on in the plan."
Blockbuster lumbered over to join them, towering over both of them, despite the fact he was forced to crouch in the room they stood in.
"I hate to disagree with you, boss, but I think it would have been quicker if one of us told him. Like the Angel perhaps."
Sinister felt his patience being pushed, and for once he decided to let his anger out. Even though he wasn't raising his voice, a shroud of silence fell over all the other Marauders.
"Listen, all of you. The only one of you besides me who was competent enough to avoid capture was Archangel. Now I've rescued you because you all have talents I can use in my plan, but if you think that doesn't make you expendable, you can return straight to the MRD prisons, and I won't be rescuing you again. It's simply a waste of resources and my time, the biggest crime to science and my studies. Or if you don't fancy the MRD, my master may possibly be able to spare a few words with you all. Understand?"
All the Marauders besides Archangel gave hurried nods and quickly fled the room. The last remaining member simply looked up, unsure how to react to his master's outburst. Should he risk the potentially lethal retribution of thanking his master for saying he was competent, or simply question on a further plan of action?
Sinister looked up to see Archangel standing as still as a statue, his expression harder to read than normal.
"I sense something is troubling you, Archangel. Are your new modifications impairing your combat ability?"
A simple shake of the head was the answer.
"Is it really going to happen? Is Rossovich really going to be broken out of a Russian jail?"
Sinister raised an eyebrow in confusion, not so much as to his answer but more to the question that had been raised.
"Of course. I don't exactly have any plans to pull back on the deal. Besides, it helps the Rasputins with the making of certain decisions. From what we were able to overhear it is likely that they were contemplating a return to the United States. As for the final set of documents leaking, that has taken a little longer than previously expected due to a slight problem with the finances, delaying the entire operation."
"Slight problem?" The words from Archangel came completely devoid of emotion, and his face was still unreadable. Sinister smiled inwardly, remarking at the design he had sculpted on Warren Worthington's face.
"I have been paying an operative for a few weeks to attempt to infiltrate the Russian government and check the documents are there in time for the breakout's aftermath. He has since raised the price, claiming that he has come close to detection several times in the last few days. Obviously this wasn't acceptable, so I have since had to send a few hired guns his way and fund their ongoing hunt for him. Finally I have had to dispatch a more reliable person in to finish the job quickly; even then they were using borrowed time as the guards at Rossovich's original facility were growing impatient, not to mention concerned for their lives. That is something that even the promise of money was barely suppressing."
Sinister realised his rant had gone on for too long, and he quietly unclenched his fists.
"Like I said, a slight problem. The documents are ready to leak in a matter of days. By then, Piotr and Ilyana will have left the farmhouse and made a break for the cities, doubtlessly willing to take any methods they can to get out of Russia and onto American soil. They won't be able to escape our watch without attracting much attention."
Archangel nodded in agreement.
"Rasputin may be trying to contact the X-Men. With their available technology and contacts, they may be his best hope at leaving the country unnoticed."
"Under normal circumstances, I would agree with you. However, after their most recent battle with the Inner Circle and Magneto, the jet was destroyed in the chaos and thus it will take the X-Men considerably longer to get here. They'll also lose the element of stealth if they do. No, the X-Men will not be a factor in our plans this time around."
"How can we be sure? We considered them a nonfactor last time and they still intervened. The mission was by all rights a near failure."
Sinister froze where he stood, expecting a wave of rage to wash over him, though instead he was staying calm, with his heartbeat beating at the same speed and his blood pressure roughly the same.
"We still succeeded in our ultimate purpose in our previous mission, though admittedly the final stage could have gone a little more painlessly. I have made certain to keep known contacts of the X-Men occupied, and as for the X-Men themselves, they can rely on a surprise headed their way in due course."
The man clung against the wall, his hair blowing in the poorly insulated prison cell and a loaned inhibitor collar around his neck to prevent him from escaping. His area of confinement had not seen an architectural redesign for what probably amounted to a few decades, and it showed. His bed was on the verge of breaking, doubtlessly having been used by many more before his arrival. The place was, even by prison standards, a nightmare, which was probably why he had been stuck in here. Even with the nearly dead lightbulb in his cell, his pale skin would still make him stand out for several miles.
Rossovich growled as he heard the sound of footsteps down the darkened corridor, noting that it was impossible to know who exactly was coming down it until they reached his door. He then remembered that it was the time that dinner was given to his own wing of his prison, and his suspicions immediately went towards one of the younger prisoners attempting to shave a few years off their sentence. They were young and impressionable, as well as being easy to scare. He made no further noise, but his mind managed to force a sadistic smile onto his face despite his condition.
"Ahh... dinner time," he muttered, followed by a deep chuckle. "Delivered to me as a result of special privileges." This itself was followed by another chuckle, longer this time and followed by a clanging against the door. He looked down in the poor lighting to see a plate and cup being passed through on a fragile tray.
"Shut up and eat up, scum. This is the only meal you'll get for the next several hours, so be sure to treasure it." The familiar voice of Warden Althukov echoed through the otherwise empty wing. The man had once worked for the Russian military, and while he claimed that the only prisoner on his wing didn't scare him, his otherwise iron personality had since given way to a mind now dominated by fear.
"That's presumably your way of telling me to enjoy whatever the maggots weren't able to eat yet," he replied back through the bars.
"Sorry, our country doesn't exactly offer gourmet to convicted mass murderers such as yourself."
Any further words that the warden had planned to say died in his throat as more noise came from the prisoner's cell.
"And in that one sentence, you have contradicted yourself, warden. In the few papers that I have an occasional opportunity to steal from you, I see men from my old days in the KGB have since ascended to positions as Russia's leaders, yet their combined body count likely eclipses mine. It is admittedly a narrow comparison with barely any difference in statistics, but the point still stands. Even you yourself have been forced to shed blood at one stage or another in your old military career."
The war veteran was evidently eager not to make conversation tonight. "Now enjoy your beans before the van arrives for transfer. I'll certainly be eager to enjoy your absence from this facility."
The giant merely shook his head and tutted.
"Our conversation isn't over yet, warden. I've managed to find out who's on escort duty for the journey to the new holding facility. You're on the list. Now how did they phrase the description of you? Ah, yes. The only man not to have cracked from the psychological analysis of Rossovich, Arkady thus far in this prison's history."
Althukov immediately felt himself preparing to run away from the cell, simply hoping that his mind would not numb itself with the sheer horror.
"That shall be rapidly revisited during our final talk, Althukov, mark my words."
The warden shot away from the cell at surprising speed; the only way he managed to suppress his scream was with the knowledge that not doing so would only fuel his interrogator's desire to torture him further. All Arkady Rossovich could do was sit back and laugh, for what else was there for him to do?
***
OK, after much debate with my own mind I have decided the chapter will just conclude here for now, as that way I can at least guarantee that you have something to read while I am busy returning to school.
While I have quite a few ideas more or less in concrete, I am open to suggestions. However, this does not mean I will put everything through to the finished story, so please don't rage at me if your idea doesn't make it through straight away. There is a chance I am simply writing on it later, and even if I'm not, it's sometimes better to make do. Thanks for reading all!