There has been a three year lapse between this chapter and the last.

OOO

Maxwell was right; Anderson had been furious when he'd discovered what Pietro had done. This had only, however, made the boy more determined than ever. Though the tension between them grew so bad that Pietro moved out and stayed in an apartment near Maxwell's and began to be privately tutored, the boy was determined to see it through until the end.

The inevitable and unfortunate consequence, his separation from his sister Wanda, was perhaps the only part of the situation that Pietro disliked or regretted. Although Pietro had enjoyed gloating when the circumstances had become such that keeping the truth from Wanda about her brother, Anderson and Maxwell was no longer possible, he found that he missed her so much that even his 'I told you so's' were little solace. So in between training and classes he tried to visit her as often as possible and encouraged her in every way he could to follow his path.

The end result was not precisely what he'd hoped for; she consented to train, but more to get her power under control and be a greater part of the lives of those she loved than any fervent desire to kill or fight. Father Anderson was supervising her training as well, which meant that there was little chance of him seeing her during those hours or of them training together.

As the years had gone by, Maxwell had increased his training time from to hours to three and gradually more. By this time Pietro was working out or training nearly five hours a day, in one form or another, whether it was reading up about how to deal with threats, working out in the training room or studying weapons and devices used in the field.

Maxwell was watching him through the glass, as he always did, when one of the medical technicians approached him.

"He seems to be doing well with the naginata," Maxwell remarked as Pietro swung the blade around, devastating the massive group of dummies that had been in place around him. "He also performed brilliantly with the voulge."

"So you've settled on a bladed pole-arm then, at least?"

"I think so. Projectile weapons make no sense because he can run faster than them and with a pole-arm he can cover a much wider area than a sword or dagger as I was originally considering. Of course, he should carry a firearm as well, for close quarters or if his movement is impeded. But I think he will do quite well with something like this."

The technician nodded then held out a report in his hands. Maxwell took the paper and began to glance at the results.

"It is as we've been tracking all along. His body is changing to adjust to the rigors of running at the speeds that he does. His skin has become more impervious to friction and heat, the vitreous fluid in his eyes has thickened, his bones and joints have become more resilient, his metabolism and heart rate have jumped way up – even his synapses are firing faster to process the information he encounters when he runs so that his vision remains clear. Plus, there's evidence that he can control his speed more minutely and precisely than previously believed."

"What does this mean for us, practically?" Maxwell asked, still looking over the figures as Pietro tore through another series of dummies in the space of a moment.

"Practically? It means that his talents aren't limited to running. His jumping abilities far exceed the normal, including jumping off of surfaces horizontally. He has been able to both run up walls and run across water without submerging for significant lengths. While by no means impervious, his skin is lightly resistant to heat. By running in circles, he can create cyclonic effects. He will need to eat more to keep his energy up; but, any attempts to tranquilize him will be affected by the force of his metabolism. He can read and absorb things more quickly – though there are no indications that this results in any greater understanding than if he'd read at a normal rate, simply equivalent recall. Perhaps most excitingly, however, is the idea of his vibrational speed."

"Oh?"

"As he's gotten older, his control has improved. Going faster does not simply mean running faster. It may mean vibrating faster – to the point where he can go through moderately sized objects that aren't made of any particularly molecularly compact material. Of course, this is only theoretical – he is only just starting to master such control and it will be a while before he can attempt such a feat, let alone perform it successfully. The way he's mutating, he could be able to do it but it ultimately remains to be seen.

"There is one more thing, however. As I stated, his mutation is continuing – speeding up even as he enters into adolescence. But we believe it could go even faster. The lab is working now on a way to accelerate and amplify it with an isotope. The caveat is that we have no suitable test subjects, other than the boy himself. Even if it is safe in laboratory animals, because it is designed to interact with his mutation it could have serious consequences. You could lose him; or he could become faster and exceed expectations to a degree yet unforeseen."

"When will this drug be ready?" The priest inquired.

"Soon. We will let you know." The other man's face was anxious. "Do take your time in making this decision. Please. I cannot impress strongly enough on you how very risky this is."

"You make it sound as if it's my decision alone, as if I would subject him to something he did not wish."

"You and I both know that even if you ask, it's still your decision. As long as it's what you want, you know he'll comply. Just promise that you will consider both options carefully?"

"I suppose."

"You shouldn't take the boy's loyalty lightly. You know, he's been running himself to exhaustion some days. He presses himself to the point where he simply passes out. We had to give him oxygen twice last week alone and three weeks ago he very nearly dehydrated; he was so focused on running that he forgot about his fluid intake."

"So diligent…" Maxwell mused, nodding thoughtfully, then bent over the microphone that connected into the room.

"You may come up, Pietro."

The boy was at his side in a second, slick with sweat and smiling.

"Did you see me? How did I do? I'm going faster, aren't I? Finally getting beyond Mach 10. Been trying to get there, finally made it."

"I noticed. Excellent work," he said with a smiled, patting Pietro's shoulder and giving him a smile.

"Thanks! And I've been keeping up with my weights too since my legs get exercised when I run but my arms need more building, and they've got me jumping now and doing things like huge hurdles and really bizarre obstacle course stuff, but it isn't a problem for me, really it isn't."

"I see that. You know Pietro, I'm very proud of you," here the boy grinned, "and I think it's high time that your education progressed to, shall we say, the next level."

"You mean…"

"Don't get impatient. There will still be a great deal to do, including finally settling on a weapon for you. But I think can safely say that you will be getting your feet wet before the year is out. Nothing major at first, mind you, and I expect you'll be more subtle than those other three. But there are… strange signs on the horizon and I want to be sure you're ready."

"You can count on me, Father," Pietro say, his eyes glinting and thirsty. At his side his hand trembled, just slightly. "I will be your greatest weapon. I will slay your enemies in the space of a breath, I will be an unrelenting whirlwind in your cause, I will be ever at your side and I promise you, I promise you, I will even surpass Father Anderson."

The boy looked up into Maxwell's eyes and the older man saw the depth of devotion that they contained. Startled, he now realized that this was the devotion that Heinkel and Yumiko had for Anderson. Maxwell smiled.

"Amen," he whispered.

"Amen," Pietro replied.

An assistant came rushing up to Maxwell just then, panting. Pietro broke off the gaze and looked at the new-comer. "I'll go wash up," he said softly and Maxwell nodded, giving him leave before turning to the other man.

"Yes?"

"Sir, you need to return to your office. This moment. It's imperative. The American director is here and he says that he needs to speak with you without delay. That it's of the utmost importance. He was extremely insistent."

"I'm coming," Maxwell said, walking rapidly towards the exit.

OOO

"Maxvell is going to have a fit," Kurt muttered as he wiped the blood off onto his cassock.

"Vell if Yumiko had changed ve vouldn't be in this situation!"

"No, we'd be in a worse one because Yumi would have gone berserk," the Japanese nun said quietly. "We'd known all along that the plan was for me to be the bait, we just didn't know how quickly it would escalate. Besides – at least now you know the technique works."

"Vell it vas not something I relished doing," Kurt sighed. "It takes enough strength to transport as it is – let alone with another and making sure that I'm only transporting his head!"

"It vas extremely impressive," Heinkel said, grinning and starting up the ignition. "Quite a fountain of blood."

Kurt scrunched up his face in disgust. "I just vant a shower vhen we get back."

When they finally pulled into the garage they used, in order to enter the building unseen, they saw two men, one carrying a box, entering the stairwell. The three of them froze for a moment and stared, and then Heinkel flashed Yumiko a smug grin.

"Vell, look who it is. Long time no see, eh?"

"Frank…" She breathed.

OOO

"Why did you not give me notice that you were coming?" Maxwell inquired as he slid into the chair behind his desk. Matthew Murdock, the head of the American Iscariot branch, was sitting in front of him with a guard, Frank Castle, looming behind him. Maxwell remembered briefly that he was the one they'd freed from prison and it seemed to have worked out.

"We felt that it was unwise, given the nature of what we were transporting," Father Murdock explained. "We had a great deal of trouble isolating and securing it and since it was not in our power to completely destroy it, we settled for sealing it off. We figured that this would be the most secure place to store it, given the level of protection you can offer."

"I won't dispute that; I simply wish we could have prepared more."

"Again, I apologize. The capture was recent and any advance notice might have given others an opportunity to steal it and use it for their own purposes. This was, I assure you, the fastest way – quickly and quietly without preamble."

"I understand." Maxwell reached out and moved the box towards him, tracing the sigil on the lid with his finger. The surface of the container seemed to be warm, as if he could feel its power emanating out even now. "We will keep it as we must and eventually destroy it if we can."

"Thank you."

"And what of other affairs in America? I have sent you notice of the way things are progressing over here. Have you noticed anything where you are?"

"That is difficult to tell. The adversary is being cautions in the States. We have been in contact with other groups, however, which have come across unusual occurrences – always maintaining distance and discretion of course," he said, hearing Maxwell make a small noise of dissatisfaction at the idea of relying on other organizations.

"I trust that you can control the situation; but be forewarned, it might get out of hand."

"I will keep that in mind," he said with a nod. "And now I think it's time we must return."

"So soon?" A female voice from the door asked. Yumiko was looking at the group, with Heinkel and a freshly-showered Kurt behind her.

"Well… I suppose we could stay for lunch," Murdock said with a smile.

"Let's go put this away in the basement first and then we can all go and get something," Maxwell said.

OOO

After his practice, Pietro took his time to shower and eat. He could have done it faster but he was completely exhausted and just wanted to relax a little while. He turned the shower up to hot and just let the water his hit skin, feeling himself unwind. Then he wandered down to the training center's cafeteria where he was given food that conformed to his particular diet, high in complex carbohydrates.

Finally done, he wondered if Maxwell had gotten back yet and decided to look at the office. The door was opened and he wondered where the priest was. Then an idea struck him and, grinning, he took a seat behind the desk, kicking his feet up and figuring that he could rely on his speed to get him out if anybody came.

He twirled in the chair, briefly, then began going through the drawers. Most of the stuff in the room was boring, mundane bureaucratic paperwork; the file on the Iscariot members that was in the corner, however, was interesting. He looked at his and grinned to see the glowing reports of his progress over the years. He took a peek at Kurt's, a bit surprised at what the normally amicable priest was apparently able to do.

Pietro was about to run back to his own room when one last thought crossed his mind. He pulled Anderson's file and decided to take a peek inside. It was a thicker document with lots of reports later on about all the missions he'd done, mostly information Pietro had already seen. The beginning, however, had a great many gaps in the information.

It seemed that not even Maxwell or the Organization knew where he'd come from, where he'd been born – anything like that. From what Pietro could tell he'd just shown up one day, out of nowhere. The only clue to anything was another photograph, not unlike the one that he'd found of Anderson and Wanda, a shot of the man in an unguarded moment.

This picture was much older, however. It was creased, as if it had been folded and stored in a pocket, and the color was badly faded. In the picture, Anderson (still looking the same as ever, though not dressed as a priest) and another man were playing poker while a third man watched, smoking a cigarette and holding a beer. It looked as if there were in a camp of some sort, though Pietro couldn't be certain of more.

He flipped the picture over and on the back, written in a thin scrawl, were the words 'Wade, Andy and Jim.'

A noise came from down the hall and in the blink of an eye the picture was replaced, the drawer was shut and Pietro was in his own room taking a nap while he waited for Maxwell to return.

OOO

AN: I haven't written any author notes here for a while but felt I should mention a few things. I have gotten away from Anderson and Wanda; rest assured they will be showing up next chapter. Next chapter will also be this fic's first glimpse of the Hellsing Organization. And as previously mentioned a few chapters back, the first person to correctly point out the chapter naming pattern gets a virtual cookie. Or I will answer one question about the future of the story for that reviewer alone. Whichever. :)

CC: In the Marvel 1602 universe, Pietro serves as the servant, and secretly son of, Magneto, who in 1602 is the High Inquisitor of Spain; in this continuity, Magneto's name is Enrique. Also in this continuity, Wanda is a nun who wears a red habit.

CC2: Although this Pietro's skills are an amalgam of the Ultimate Pietro, with help from a Marvel/DC RPG guide on power specifics, Isotope E was a substance the 616 Pietro used to drastically enhance his skills. Certain abilities mentioned (such as the vibration theory) hold true in continuity for characters like the Flash, if not Pietro himself. While Pietro never 616 Marvel-canonically exhibited such characteristics, his Ultimate version came much closer and given the opportunity for experimentation to increase his speed, he could theoretically reach such levels.