Enemies and Allies

Geneva, Switzerland, 1962.

Eighteen years later

Erika found herself alone in a hotel room in Geneva, Switzerland, silently crying as she thought back to the dark time of the Holocaust so long ago as she made the blasted coin float around in between the fingers of her left hand. It was the same coin that Schmidt had asked her to move. Why she'd kept the coin after so many years, she herself didn't know anymore. But she did intend to rid herself of it eventually. How she intended to be rid of it, only she knew, and she intended it to be poetic justice when she caught up with the heartless monster responsible for her pain and nightmares.

In the past eighteen years, much had occurred for her. Financially, she was doing well for herself, far better than she had once done as a child. She had grown a great deal, both mentally and physically. She was tall and slender with jet-black hair, a heart-shaped face, blue-grey eyes and fine features. Her innocence was gone, but the pain and anger was still there. At her age, she'd endured far more than anyone should've had to—from being a lab rat, to have everything and everyone she ever loved taken from her, being rejected, and being denied what she so desperately sought.

Four and a half months after being imprisoned, American soldiers had liberated her and her people from the camps. One of the soldiers, a fierce and yet caring Canadian volunteer, had taken an interest in Erika and her condition, and made sure she and a fellow prisoner, her childhood sweetheart Mikael, were taken to a new home where they could be safe. Erika had never forgotten that soldier's kindness and she vowed to one day repay him.

Revenge against Schmidt had been denied to Erika, as he'd escaped before the authorities could catch him, but she forced herself to accept it after her gaining her freedom as she had more pressing matters to deal with and part of her had wanted to leave her terrible past behind. The concentration camps and her pain had almost become a distant memory, but then a devastating event caused by her tormentor six years previously had forced Erika to resume her quest. Her earlier efforts to find Schmidt had fruitless, but she'd been getting closer of late. He was near, she could feel it.

Feeling the need to hit something, Erika flung the coin into her sketch of Schmidt's face before getting dressed and prepared for the day. She had an appointment with the bank.

Erika's powers had grown considerably over the past several years. The enemies she had made in her pursuit of Schmidt called her "The Mistress of Magnetism." She'd gained quite the reputation for being terrifying, strong, determined and relentless.

After pinning her dark hair back and dressing in a fine grey suit, hat and overcoat, she picked up her leather briefcase, put the coin into her pocket, and walked down to the bank and then headed to the front desk.

"Excusez-moi," she said, to the receptionist. "I have a nine o'clock appointment with the president of the bank, si vous plait. The name is Mle. E. Lensherr."

"One moment, please," said the receptionist. She pressed one of the buttons on the intercom on the desk. "Monsieur President, your nine o'clock appointment is here."

"Send her in," said a male voice.

Erika then entered the office and was greeted by an older, balding, well-dressed man, who shook her hand.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Lensherr, it is a pleasure to meet you," he said. "Please, have a seat."

"Merci, Monsieur. The pleasure is all mine," said Erika, lying through her teeth as she sat down. It was not a pleasure at all. She knew quite well that this man was one of Schmidt's associates, and he knew of the man's location. But the bank president did not recognize her and why would he? She had been one of countless Jews in that miserable camp and she'd been kept mainly locked up in Schmidt's building where few saw her. She smiled pleasantly. "Please, just call me Erika."

"As you wish," he said, as he sat down. "Now, over the phone, you said you had something quite important you wish to place in my bank?"

"I do, indeed," said Erika. She placed her briefcase on the desk and pulled put the bar of gold it contained. The bar of gold was marked with a German Nazi signature.

The bank president's eyes widened at the sight of it. "I presume that you know possession of that gold is illegal, mademoiselle? I should inform the police."

Erika gave a mock sigh. "Oh, please, let's not play this game." He could not fool her. He was a pitiful actor and she wasn't in the mood for games of any kind.

"Where did you get it?" he demanded.

"A friend," she said, coolly. "He recommended your bank most highly." It was true enough. A man she'd interrogated several weeks prior had told her of the bank president who had the information she sought. He'd had the gold in his possession and Erika had taken it, feeling it to be rightfully hers and she needed it to get into the bank.

"I see," said the bank president, slowly. "Do you know our terms, Miss Erika?"

"Oui," she said, as she picked up and examine one of the many trinkets on the man's desk before putting it back down. "And you should know mine, sir. This gold is what remains of my people. It was melted from their possessions and taken from their teeth, this is blood money. And you're going to help me find one of the monsters responsible for it."

The man looked considerably frightened now. He tried to reach for the alarm button under his desk, but he wasn't stealthy enough. Erika spotted him and reacted immediately. She reached out with her power and grabbed his metal watch around his wrist, preventing him from pressing the button and making him hit himself in the head. Erika tsk-tsked and shook her head at him, as one would to a naughty child.

"I wouldn't touch that alarm, if I were you," she said. She got up from her chair and sat on his desk and grasped the scruff of his shirt. "So, now that I have your full attention, perhaps you'll do yourself a favor and tell me what I want to know. I'm looking for Schmidt, Doctor Klaus Schmidt. He would've had two children with him, a light-haired boy and a dark-haired girl, both about eighteen years old. Where are they?"

The bank president still looked terrified, but that didn't prevent him from lying. He started to stammer out, "Our-our clients don't p-provide addresses. We're not—"

"Not that sort of bank?" she interrupted, angrily, as she placed a tight grip on his throat before grabbing other pieces of metal in the room and binding him to the chair. She then held up two fingers and forced the man's mouth open, smirking slightly as he looked horrified at her. "Ah, metal fillings, not gold. Worried someone might steal them?" she growled, as she started to yank it out.

"Florida!" he cried, as he winced in pain. "Monsieur Schmidt is in Florida! He's on his ship, Caspartina in Miami, Florida!"

Although she was glad the cowardly fool had started talking, Erika continued her interrogation. "And what about the two young children?" she demanded. "What has he done with them? Are they unharmed?"

"They're with him, I promise you! I don't know what he's done to them, but they're unharmed, I swear!" he said, pleadingly. "Please, let me go!"

Quite pleased with her results, Erika released the man and didn't take out the metal filling in his mouth. Instead, she said, "Thank-you," and then she packed up the bar of gold. "Consider this an act of mercy, which is more than you and your kind ever showed me and my people, Monsieur. However, I swear that if Klaus Schmidt or anyone associated with him, gets wind of my coming, I'll know it was you and then you'll share Schmidt's fate."

"Mademoiselle," said the bank president, looking very frightened as he took deep breaths. "What in heaven's name are you?"

"I am what you perceive me to be. My enemies say I am the Mistress of Magnetism, but one has said that I'm Frankenstein's monster and I'm looking for my creator," she said, coldly, as she started to leave the room. "That is what I am, Monsieur. Au revoir."

She waved at him mockingly and then left the bank.

After packing her belongings, checking out of her hotel, Erika booked a flight to Florida and then boarded the plane. She spoke to no one on the flight and instead, just focused on what lay ahead of her. After eighteen years, she was finally going to take back what once was hers.

I'm going to find you, Schmidt. And when I do, I'm going to take back what you took from me and make you pay dearly for what you did, she vowed. Her mother's death would be avenged and she would finally take back what Schmidt had taken from her. One way or another, he would pay.

XXX

It was quite late when Erika arrived at her intended destination.

After her plane had landed, she rented a car and drove to where she needed to go. She parked her car half a mile away from the ship to keep hidden from prying eyes before she changed into a wetsuit and then snuck away into the darkness. Before long, she arrived at the water's edge, and then she dove underneath. Before long, she rose up from the water where Schmidt's ship, Caspartina, was docked. It was easy to board Schmidt's ship. She didn't quite know what to expect, but she was armed and prepared for what was about to happen. Or, so she thought.

When she was onboard, she walked to where she heard voices. She looked as cool and confident as she felt, not like the young terrified girl from eighteen years ago.

Schmidt hadn't changed, however, aside from him having neither a moustache nor glasses any longer. He was with two others, a man with long dark hair and a beautiful blond-haired woman. Erika knew these were his associates, Emma Frost a.k.a. the White Queen of the Hellfire Club and Janos Quested, a.k.a. Riptide. All three of them were mutants, just like her. But unlike her, they were well-dressed and seemed to be quite smug. No doubt whatever they were up to, they were succeeding.

"Good evening, Herr Doctor," said Erika, catching their attention after unsheathing her dagger.

The three of them immediately rose up. Schmidt's associates prepared to attack, but they were still again when Schmidt held up his hands. He gazed upon Erika in amazement and awe.

"Little Erika Lensherr," said Schmidt. "I see the past eighteen years have been quite good to you. You look so beautiful. Have you come to join me at last?"

"You can dispense with the pleasantries, Schmidt," she spat. "We both know this isn't a social visit and nor I do want any part of whatever it is you're up to." She had no doubt he was planning something, but she neither knew what exactly it was and nor did she care. Men like him never changed and were always heartless scoundrels.

Frost narrowed her eyes at Erika, causing a slight pain in Erika's head. "She's here for Enchantress and Whizzer and she intends to kill you if you don't return them." Frost then turned her head and glared at Schmidt. "You never said that those two were—"

"Finish that sentence and I'll end him right now," interrupted Erika, bristling with anger. She knew exactly what Frost was going to say, and if Erika had her way, those poisonous words would not be spoken by Schmidt or anyone associate with him. "You had no right to take them, Schmidt. Where are they? I want them back and I'm not leaving without them."

Schmidt smiled and it wasn't the good kind of smile. "Of course. If they wish to go, I'll allow it," he said. He turned to his other goon. "Riptide, go fetch Enchantress and Whizzer, would you?"

Janos did as Schmidt asked. He disappeared below deck while Erika remained where she was, not taking her eyes off Schmidt or Frost as she kept a firm grip on her blade. When Janos returned, Erika was horrified by what she saw.

The two children were anything but. They had grown. That was only to be expected, it had been six years after all, but that wasn't what troubled Erika. They both wore expensive, designer clothing, almost like uniforms. The boy wore a stunning white suit with a black lightning bolt on the chest and the girl was in a beautiful black dress with her hair pinned back. And the both of them had strange plastic devices on their temples and the same cold expressions.

Erika sheathed her weapon and ran over to them. "What have you done to them?" she demanded, looking distraught. They were both cold and wore hard expressions on their faces. They didn't show the slightest response when she touched their faces. In fact they were almost like automatons.

"I did nothing but help them reach their potential and added a little behavioral modification," said Schmidt, smugly. "I did what you never had the courage to. The devices keep their abilities in control and the little gadgets are immune to your powers."

"Get those devices off them, now!" demanded Erika, angrily. If those devices were harmful in any way, shape or form, nothing would stop her from unleashing her rage on them all. She knew Schmidt was ruthless, but to do this? Oh, he'd just earned a special place in perdition for what he'd done.

"Relax, Erika, they're perfectly harmless," said Schmidt, calmly. "They're easy to remove if one knows how. You don't need my help. In fact, why don't I just send the three of you off right now so you can get to it, if you want it so badly?" He placed his hands on the children's shoulders and then murmured into their ears, "Enchantress, Whizzer, you may go with your mother if you so desire."

They both nodded as Erika fought not to lose control over her abilities with her anger.

"You're scum, Schmidt," growled Erika. "You'll pay for what you've done, I swear." Her revenge would have to wait. For now, she had more pressing matters to attend to. She had to get those devices off them and help them in any way she possibly could. She turned to the two teens. "My dears, come with me. We must leave now."

She grabbed their hands, only to be startled when the two teens yanked their hands away and were now glaring at her.

"You clearly didn't hear him. Shaw said we could go with you if we wanted to," growled the boy, as he delivered a punch to Erika's jaw so quickly, she didn't have time to blink. She landed painfully on the ship floor and had just barely risen when she was attacked yet again.

"And we don't want to leave with you," snarled the girl. Bright red power surged in her hands, and then she blasted Erika off the ship and into the water.

Erika emerged from the water, gasping for breath, just as the Coast Guard arrived. The authorities' boats were knocked down by Schmidt—or Shaw's—associate, Riptide, who apparently had the ability to generate tornados.

Don't think I'm letting you go that easily, she mentally growled. The ship itself had little to no metal, but she could still inflict her wrath. She struggled to stay afloat as she grabbed the heavy metal ship's anchor. With a surge of anger, she made the anchor—chain and all—plunge deep into the ship before she wrapped the anchor around the ship until the chain broke, leaving the ship nothing but a floating piece of wreckage.

Her tormentor apparently had a backup plan, as a submarine emerged underneath the rubble of the ship and began to speed away. Quickly, Erika grabbed it, but she wasn't strong it enough to keep it in place, only to attach herself to it. She allowed herself to be dragged by it, ignoring the cries of a man from the Coast Guard cruise liner, who was begging her to let go. She certainly would not let go, not when she was so close to her goal.

Moments later, she was under the water, unable to breathe, but not caring. She had to finish what she set out to do. She was too darn close to give up now. Suddenly, she found herself losing her concentration as she felt a man grab her shoulders from behind and then a presence and a voice spoke softly in her mind.

You can't do this, he said. You'll drown. You have to let go. I know what this means to you, but you're going to die. Please, Erika, calm your mind. Let go.

Before Erika knew it, she'd lost her grip on the submarine and it zoomed away within moments. She'd lost the battle and the man from behind, had taken her up to the surface, where fresh oxygen worked its way into her lungs.

Instead of feeling gratitude to the man for saving her life, Erika felt angry as she yanked herself free of his grip. She'd been so close to success, and then it'd all been snatched from her yet again. How dare this stranger stop her? What right had he to interfere? Who was he to decide what she could or could not do?

"Get your hands off of me!" she yelled, before slapping him. The man looked no older than her. He was British judging by his accent, well-off from his clothes, and he was also quite handsome with his dark hair, blue eyes, and boyish features

"Calm down! Just breathe!" said the man, as he signaled for them to be picked up. "It's okay!"

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"My name is Charles Xavier," he said.

"You're like that scoundrel's associate, aren't you? You're a telepath!" she said, accusingly. She was amazed by Charles's gift. She'd met very few like her and even fewer who had identical abilities. However, she was also quite angered by Charles's telepathy as she despised having people poke around in her mind. Frost's intrusion into her mind had been bad enough. But this? "You were in my head. How much did you see?"

"I only saw a little, but it was enough," said Charles, smiling. "And I may be a telepath, but I'm on your side, not his. You're not alone. Just calm your mind. I'm a friend, Erika, I promise you." He held out his hand to her.

For some reason, despite her anger towards him, Erika decided she trusted Charles. "Okay," she said. She took his hand and allowed him to help her until a young man who looked anything but human—he had blue skin, yellow eyes, pointed ears and a tail—suddenly teleported into the water and teleported them onto the Coast Guard's ship, where they were met by a blond woman and two CIA agents.

"Charles, what just happened? Who's your friend here?" asked the blond-haired girl.

"Raven, this is Erika Lensherr," said Charles. "Erika, this is my sister, Raven." He pointed to the blue-skinned teleporter. "And you've just met my nephew."

The blue-skinned man held out his three-fingered hand to her. "Guten tag," he said. "Ich heisse Kurt Wagner."

Erika smiled, in spite of herself as she shook his hand. She hadn't been among her fellow Germans in so long. "Danke, Kurt."

Kurt smiled back.

"And these are CIA Agents Burt and Moira MacTaggert," said Charles, beckoning to the other two.

"You're the one who attacked Sebastian Shaw's ship?" asked Moira, looking amazed.

Erika rolled her eyes. You certainly have a talent for stating the obvious, I must say. She folded her arms across her chest. "Obviously, yes," she said, testily. She noticed they'd called him Shaw and not Schmidt. The latter was probably just one of his many aliases. Typical. "So, what business could the CIA possibly have with the Black King of the Hellfire Club? I highly doubt you're here to capture him for a post-war trial." The fact that she knew that would've surprised some, but the truth was, there was little Erika didn't know about her old tormentor or his associates.

"You'd be correct. We're not here for that. We actually believe that he and the Hellfire Club are working with the Russians and are Communists and there's something afoot," said Burt. He narrowed his eyes at her. "What's your business with him?"

"That business is none of your business," growled Erika, as she tried to maintain control over her temper. When Burt and Moira opened their mouths to protest, she added, "And don't tell me that just because you're with the government that I can trust you. I learned to stop trusting the government and humans a long time ago. So, give me one good reason why on earth I should trust your kind or tell you anything."

Erika rarely, if ever, trusted humans, and she certainly didn't trust government after the war. She had half a mind to take off after sabotaging their boat so she could continue her pursuit of Shaw.

"I think we both know that's impossible. So, don't trust them. Trust me because I won't hurt you or lie to you," said Charles, coming in between her and the others, just as Burt looked outraged and opened his mouth to speak. "Trust me, Erika. We want Shaw just as badly as you do, I promise. Just talk to us, please. Don't leave."

Erika hesitated, but then she could feel Charles's genuine compassion and she knew at once he was telling the truth. She sighed. "Fine, I'll tell you what I know if you tell me what you know and I have a say in how he's taken down and nothing I say goes beyond us without my consent. Those are my terms, take them or leave them." It might just work. How did that old saying go? "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." In this case, it was true.

"Deal," said Moira, before anyone could speak. "Why don't we get you a change of clothes and then we'll talk below deck over dinner, privately?"

Erika just nodded before following Charles's sister, who took her to one of the room on the ship where she was dried off and given a fresh change of clothes. Afterwards, she followed Raven down below deck, where she seated beside Charles and was given food and drink. No one spoke during dinner and there was a semi-comfortable silence until the dishes were cleared away and Agent Burt broke the silence between them.

"So, Miss Lensherr," said Burt. "Why're you after Shaw? How do you know him?"

When Erika didn't reply at first, Charles reached out to her. He leaned forward and took her hand.

"You can speak freely, Erika. I promise you, one will come after you, hurt you or judge you," said Charles, quietly. He then whispered, "I promise you, no one will reveal anything you don't wish them to. I'll make sure of that."

Feeling relieved somewhat by Charles's promise, Erika lifted up her left sleeve and held out her arm, revealing the numbers she'd been tattooed with—214782. Even after nearly two decades, the mark still looked as new as ever. "This is how I know him. He was in charge of my camp in 1944." Everyone except for Charles looked horrified, as he already seen part of this in Erika's mind, no doubt.

"You were part of the Jewish Holocaust," whispered Moira.

Erika nodded. "My father, Jakob Lensherr, was a highly decorated war veteran of World War One. When war broke out again near our home, we fled, only to have our location betrayed. My father and sister were killed while my mother and I were sent to the camps. My powers manifested when they tried to separate me from my mother. At that point, I was taken up to his office. I knew him by his alias of Klaus Schmidt, and not by his real name of Sebastian Shaw. I was only there for four and a half months before American soldiers liberated me and my people, but it was long enough for him to destroy my life as I knew it.

"My ability to create magnetic fields and control metal is fueled by my emotions, more specifically, anger and pain. Shaw found out what the trigger was when he murdered my mother in front of me. He became obsessed with me and my powers after that. The things he did to me and my people are unspeakable. He's similar to Hitler, only he has power and he wants to conquer the world. He's a mutant can absorb any kind of energy and use it to keep him young and redirect it in any way that he wants. You could probably set off a missile with him in the room and he'd still be alive. I presume you already know about his associates."

"Good heavens," murmured Charles.

"Are you only after him because of what he did to your mother?" asked Burt, hesitantly.

If only things were that simple. But things never are. Erika shook her head. She wanted revenge for her mother's death, yes, but there was so much more to it than that. "No." She didn't want to tell them more, but she realized that she had to. No one would want a vengeful war survivor interfering with their work. She had a stronger reason for wanting Shaw dead. "Shaw kidnapped my children, Wanda and Pietro, from me six years ago. I want them back. That's why I'm after him. I intended to get them back this evening; however, I didn't plan on what he'd done to them."

"What has he done to them?" asked Raven, as she tightly held her son, Kurt's hand.

"He's controlling them with some kind of devices that my powers are useless against." Erika's expression and tone became cold as she intended to make one thing perfectly clear to them. "I don't know what they are or how to get rid of those blasted devices. All I do know is that my children are innocent in all of this and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get them back." Even go up again the likes of you and Shaw alone.

Erika seemed to have made an impression them all, because not one of them appeared to want to argue with her or go against her wishes.

"I'm sorry for your losses," said Burt, looking sympathetic. "So, your children, Wanda and Pietro, are they like you? Are they mutants?"

Erika just nodded, not wishing to reveal anymore than she already had. She'd already revealed far too much and heaven alone knew just how much Charles knew about her past.

"All right, here's the deal: if you help us take down Shaw and tell us what we need to know, we'll help you get back those kids and you can have a say in what goes down. Your children won't be indicted or harmed," said Burt. "You have my word."

Erika paused in consideration for a moment before nodding. "We have an agreement. But let me make one thing clear, Mr. Burt, until I have good reason to trust you and your fellow agent, all my information goes through Charles and his family and I work with them, not you. I work with those I choose and for no one. And when all this is over, don't come looking for me unless I seek you out."

In her mind, those weren't unreasonable terms, but Erika knew that humans could be particularly picky about those sort of matters. If things didn't go as she wanted, she could always act on her own plans and do as she wished.

"It's a deal," said Burt, finally. "Now, I suggest that we all get some sleep. We've got a lot to do, come the morning."

Indeed we do, thought Erika, as she rose up.

After collecting her things from her car, she had it returned and then joined her new little group on the ship. She shared quarters with Charles's sister and after getting into bed, she glanced over her two worn-out photographs of her loved ones, the only ones she possessed.

I'll save you both and avenge your grandmother, I promise, she silently swore, before finally falling into a fitful sleep.