Title: Power Behind the Throne Part 2
Author: Ethiercn
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: Marvel owns them; I'm just borrowing them.
"Remove the restraints," a voice pushed its way though the dim haze in Firestar's mind. She kept her eyes closed and tried not to change her breathing.
"I don't think that is wise, sir," the voice from the van replied. Don't wince, she told herself sternly. It's not him.
"We need her cooperation. The restraints will make her less cooperative. Remove them."
"Sir, even should she be . . ."
"Now, Thomas," the command was ruined by a cough.
Firestar felt cool hands gently removed the restraints, felt the familiar tingle of getting in touch with her power. She opened her eyes, flicked on her power, causing Randall's double to back off quickly. He drew a gun and pointed it at her.
As if that would work, she thought as she took in her surroundings.
She was in what appeared to be a library, one of those that rich people in cliché movies had. What her father called Masterpiece Theater Library, with books more to be seen and not read, a library with all those old, red leather chairs and the kind of furniture people get when they don't have a cat.
A man sat in one chair. Though his face drooped and his body seemed on the verge of running to fat, he had the air of power and privilege, not just from the expensive ring on his hand or the fine cut of his clothes. Despite never having actually met him, Firestar knew from Thrash's files that this was Sebastian Shaw, Shinobi's father, the head of the Hellfire Club, the man who along with Frost had tried to turn her into an assassin. Her visor lay folded up on the table next to him, to the right of a glass and a bottle of pills.
"We should talk," Shaw stated, the words slightly slurred. He wondered if Emma had been completely honest in her reports about her former pupil. Studying the young woman in front of him, he concluded that their plans had been too limited in scope.
"Where am I? Where's Justice?" she demanded, her power pulsing so strongly that he could feel the temperature of the room rise. Her blue-green eyes studied Thomas. "Tell your man to put up his gun before I melt it into his hand."
"Thomas," Shaw spoke calmly, "Your bullets would be ineffective anyway."
Reluctantly, Thomas put his gun back in his holster.
Shaw picked up a remote from the table next to the chair and pointed it at the painting that hung on the wall across from them. He pressed a button and the painting slide up revealing a flat screen. Of course, he would have one of those, Firestar thought, and I bet the globe in the corner is one of those bar things. The screen clicked on, and Firestar's mouth went dry.
On the screen, her father, still recovering from his injury, hobbled over to his chair in the living room of their house. He turned on the game.
Firestar powered down, and her hands curled into fists.
"For now, he is safe. I, however, have a team on hand, should you prove difficult, and we can see if the odd adage of the third time being the charm rings true." Shaw placed the remote back on the table. "I need your cooperation."
"To do what?" She refused to look at him. Had this been the plan all along? Where was Vance, she thought as a wave of anger hit her. How dare they try this again!
"To re-gain control of the Hellfire Club and other parts of my empire," Shaw coughed.
Firestar turned slightly to face him, "Why me?"
"I need a show of loyal power," Shaw explained. "Guards such as Thomas," he gestured to the man who dipped his head slightly, "don't prove much. But someone such as yourself, especially someone with a family connection."
She blinked at him, "You must be joking."
"You know you are adopted, surely," Shaw picked up his glass and took a sip. He needed to take his medication soon, but he did not want to sure weakness.
Firestar did know; she had been told shortly before the death of her mother. Her birth mother had been a friend of the family who had died. The death of her mother and her grandmother, the manifestation of her powers, her years at the Academy, then the Warriors, the whole business with Vance and finally the second near fatal attack on her father had taken priority over any curiosity she had over her natural mother.
"Are you saying you're my mother?" she snapped, forcing her hands to unclench. She needed to think of a way out of this. She handled Frost and Mystique; she could handle Shaw.
Amused, Shaw allowed himself a small smile, "Hardly. There is a chance you are my daughter. Marissa was having relations with me shortly before she got pregnant."
Firestar resisted the urge to gag, "You get my cooperation, and my father is safe?"
Not what he had been expecting, Shaw replied, "You wound me. I tell you that you have a claim to my wealth, and you . . ."
"Being a sperm-donor doesn't make you a father," she interrupted, her temper finally frayed as she surprised herself. Nita would be proud she thought and that quick thought of her blue skinned friend, and her other friends, gave her strength.
"And a man who turned you over to Emma Frost for three years without a word is any better?" Shaw countered coolly. "But, yes, he and the families of your friends," he touched the remote once more. The picture on the screen divided. She now could see Chord, Rich's brother, and Robbie's parents. "Will be safe. Just help me regain control. Cooperate and they live. Do not or take me out, and my teams will kill them before you can save them." He turned off the screen.
"Where's Justice?" Firestar asked, trying to buy time.
Shaw shrugged, "Still with my worthless son, unless your team has intervened. If you're expecting a rescue, you will be sharply disappointed. Even my son has no idea who is behind this. Don't worry. I won't ask you to violate your precious principles. Once I have regained power, I will call off the teams and give you the locations of the cameras. The Hellfire Club will never bother you again, and you can return to your father."
Firestar bowed her head. She didn't say anything. What could she say? She didn't believe him, but for now she would have to play along and hope that he didn't see though it as easily as his son had seen though Vance.
Shaw took her silence for acquiescence, "You have the run of the house and grounds. You may go into the town provided that Mr. Chase," he interpreted her look. "You were close to his brother, I believe. You may go where you wish as long as Mr. Chase accompanies you. Rebel, attack Mr. Chase, his people, or myself and . . ."
"You have my father and the others killed," she finished for him. "I understand how this works."
Shaw coughed, "Mr. Chase will show you to your suite. The DNA results will be back in a few weeks."
As if, Firestar thought, she would still be here.
Nita walked out of the locker room and into the main area at the Crash Pad. Nova stood to the side watching as Justice hammered away at the computer. They had a found a tape showing the men who had taken Angel, but they had been unable to get anything helpful from it. The man had worn masks and had been smart enough to cover the license plate on their car. Justice had replayed the tape continuously, trying to find anything, finally giving up when Thrash mentioned trying to trace the money. Now, Justice was trying to break though the aliases and bank accounts that had been used to pay Shaw. He had been at it for the past few hours. Nita shared a long look with Nova who shrugged, "Thrash left a few minutes ago."
Nita scowled and turned towards Justice. "You should rest," She told him. "Or at least go and get something to eat." He looked older, she thought.
"I got some on the plane ride back," Justice said shortly as he ran a hand though his hair. He couldn't rest. Rest meant seeing Angel being carried out of Shaw's mansion when he closed his eyes. Rest meant telling Mr. Jones what had happened to Angel. He didn't want to have that conversation until he could offer hope. He didn't want to leave the computer until he could find some hope for himself.