First Mutant
By David D. Amaya
Chapter 30
******************************
West Wing corridor, The White House 1502 EDT Day 21
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Knight to Cement Mixer."
A deceivingly short phrase, making little sense to most people who may have been eavesdropping, but to the United States Secret Service White House Detail, it spoke volumes.
President Anthony Parkman enters the West Wing, while Agent Burke's four words sent dozens into motion. Translated, it means that the President is headed for the Situation Room, where three agents from Horsepower and three heavily armed SHIELD troops, led by Lt. Dugen were waiting.
Burke and his three POTUS bodyguards escorted the Chief Executive through a walkway lined with priceless oil paintings of President's from eras past, each portrait's gaze seemed to look down at the current Commander-In-Chief with doubt and worry as he made his way past them.
Normally, Naval stewards would have set the room with coffee in exquisite silver butlers and water pitchers of antique crystal, but shell-shocked Crown agents were not going to let just anyone near the Boss right now.
The Situation Room is the nerve center of the Executive Office during times of crisis. Walls were detailed maps, the locations of US troop deployments and movements were colored green. Every Navel ship and battle group was posted in blue throughout the Seven Seas. Trouble spots throughout the globe were flagged in red. Natural disasters posted in yellow.
The Nation's Capitol was in brown, the color of terrorist-attacked cities.
A row of super-computers, linked with the Signal Corps Office, was staffed by video experts overlooking the security tapes of the Convention Center, four STU-9 phones and a bank of televisions bordered the room, half of which monitoring the failed attempt on Charles Xavier, with its subsequent battle on Capitol Hill. The others were replaying the President's Speech at the Convention Center and the fire fight that ensued. One other had shown glimpses of a SHIELD assault in Seattle, an unconfirmed result of Executive Orders.
"Where's Jon?" the President asked as he walked into the smart salutes of the SHIELD troops.
"Right here, Mr. President," Chief of Staff Roth announced near the large conference table in the center of the room. The President took to the center chair while aids and staffers took their seats at either side of the Chief Executive around the table. Lt. Duggen and Agent Burke remained standing at the President's side as he sat with a very weary, yet understandable, sigh.
"Agent Burke, where are the Joint Chiefs?"
"Admiral Lewis is at the Pentagon in a meeting with Rear Admiral Kaulalona from Pearl Harbor, General Clayton is flying to Area 102 to meet with General Ross for a SitRep on Hulkbuster activities-"
"Forget it people!" The President snaped, the tension of the afternoon's events evident with every syllable. "All right, SitRep someone tell me what the hell just happened?"
"Preliminary intel only, sir," Dugen began. "Seventy-five injuries to civies and off-duty cops. Forty by gunfire, and only three casualties.
"Seven unknowns in assault gear, four dead, three escaped in the confusion, all were armed with HK MP-5s. Six agents on Lizard and one of my NCOs were wounded in the counter-attack. Price took a few rounds at close range, but his vest held up. Agent Martinez took a .38 in her left shoulder. Both have been taken to Georgetown University's ER and are going to be released with in the hour. Everyone else will get kicked by this evening."
"What about my son and the girl with his Mariners jacket, Lieutenant?"
"Sir," Roth spoke up. "What makes you think that jacket she held out was your son's?"
"Because, I bought it for my brother, Jake, when his unit got back from the Gulf. The last time he took us to a ballgame before I was elected, he had cut the back and stitched it himself. He gave it to my son before he was killed and Cyrus wears it all the time, it's his lucky jacket! I'd know it anywhere! What do we have on the girl who had it on?"
"Signals is combing the security tapes as we speak," an aide reported. "What we've gathered so far on the tapes is that at 1430 hours a young white male suspect," The President shot a look of pure indignation at his son spoken of as if a terrorist. "Sorry, Mr. President, you have to call them something, roughly 12 years old, 4' 7", and an Asian female, second suspect, about 15, 5' 1" both passed through checkpoint X-Ray with valid passes with third suspect, White male, late 20s, 6'1", medium build, all passed through the snifters."
"HOW!" Agent Burke demanded. "We've been using them on Cowpuncher for two years now, they're foolproof!"
"We found an experimental SHIELD EF pulse-generator orb at the scene," the aide continued. "Its markings indicate that it was part of that arms heist the Sons of the Serpent's pulled off two weeks ago. You could easily sneak small arms with them. Reports suggest that the second and third suspects also possessed meta-human abilities which they used to take out two of the Tangos-"
Agent Zigler and Col. Fury walked into the SitRoom and Zigler whispered something to the President who reacted with pure shock.
"Agent Burke, clear the room," Fury told the rest of the room. "Dum-Dum you're on the door."
"Col. Fury, I am the White House Chief of Staff-"
"And I'm the President, Jon," The Commander-in-Chief reminded his best friend. "I give orders and you follow them, now leave the room."
******************************
Location unknown.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Kordel! In my office!
"Kordel, do you know whom I just received a telephone call from? It was Headmaster Randolph from Oakridge Academy. Do you want to know what he said? He said that you are NOT planning to clerk for Nichols-Sweeney, your own family's investment firm, this semester. Why would you make such a mistake with your career, we are the finest investment firm in New England. Once you learn the basics of -"
"But, Aunt Rose, I have told you before, I not going to join the family firm. I have accepted an appointment with the United States Secret Service. It is an excellent position. The office is located on Causeway Avenue and-"
"And you are doing nothing of the sort! For the past ten years you have talked of nothing else! Your daydreams of being a policeman are just that, daydreams. Now tell me, why do you continue to tarnish your family name by wanting to work for the government? They cannot give you the proper status befitting the only heir to my brother. Tobias Nichols, Nichols, Nichols, Nichols...."
"Nichols! Nichols! Can you hear me Secret Agent, Dude!"
Slowly, the hazy picture of a ten-year old argument changed places with the sight of a side of beef hanging next to a teenager in a green Mariners jacket. Restrained by handcuffs that were hung on a large metal hook and leg shackles that were weighed heavily to the ground, Jubilee's range of motion was severely shortened as she tried to move her head to check her surroundings. An inhibitor collar fastened around the young mutant's neck kept her plasma bursts out of play.
Agent Nichols moaned and slowly lifted his head to find that he too was cuffed and restrained across from her, next to another side of meat. A faint, but familiar stench assaulted his senses, awakening fully, and he noticed that he too was wearing an inhibitor collar.
"Jubilee, are you okay?" he was concerned with the large, purple bruise on her temple from the earlier car accident.
"I... I think so, but, somthin' 'bout this place is a bit too creepy for me. Hey, do you see 'Watt?"
"He's right here, Gene Filth," From the shadows, came a voice.
Cyrus Parkman was produced. Unconscious, shackled, and blindfolded, the son of the President of the United States was thrown to the middle of room between them. Jubilee's bright yellow trenchcoat and the inhibitor locked around his neck was in plain view of both captives.
"Ah!" The aged voice croaked again. "Parkman's little mutie whelp. Gift-wrapped for the big surprise! And look, two more surprise packages to deliver. This shall be a red-letter day indeed!"
"Red-letter day!" Nichols retorted with a decisive snort. "Here I was thinking that your family only enjoys Red Light Districts? But, I shouldn't be surprised that a whoring bastard like you could turn over a new rock to hide under. Isn't that right, SENATOR?"
Three men walked into view, all in three-piece suits and wearing ski masks to hide their faces. Behind their wall of protection, an old man strode out of the shadows, he alone did not hide his true visage.
"I see that you have not lost your flair for words, Kordel," he said as he paced between the two captives. "Despite your daring heroics, I shall watch you destroyed and the rest of your tainted race with you."
"Who the hell is this guy, Secret Agent, Dude?"
"What, this old sack of shit?" Nichols shot back. "This degenerate, boozing, slut monger by any other name would still be called Gerald Crane. Of all the lowly crap your family is responceable for over your over-extended lifetime, of course FOH member is at the top of that list of shortcomings."
"Friends of Humanity! Those directionless fools! No my dear, Agent Nichols, the patriots that I count myself among, have a true path for America, and I dare say, the whole of the world. Once we rid this Great Land of Liberty of the mutant filth, we WILL make America the great nation it once was!"
"So what is it, Crain," Nichols probed. "Expose the President's son as a mutant. Force him to step down, then put you and Kelley in the White House?"
"Force the President to resign? Bobby Kelley Vice-President? Oh, you could not be further from the truth. You see, Agent Nichols, the sad state of affairs in this country is that the niggers, spics, gooks and all the rest of the undesirables are getting too numerous for us to maintain the Executive Office forever, so it does not do us any good to take the Oval Office by force. Nay, I am but a noble king maker, rather than a king, yet I shall rule as the true power behind the throne.
"Exposing the whelp and making Parkman flee office will accomplish less than you think, but getting him to do our dirty work for us will serve all.
"We are going to - no, that is not right, I meant to say YOU and this little mutie chink of yours are going to have the honor of killing poor, innocent, little Cyrus, so as to have your precious Gene Filth can have its voices heard. That you will not take the government's cruel treatment of your people.
"But your plan WILL backfire, as I shall rally both sides of the Hill to back the President's strike of retribution on the lowly mutant hordes, as we fast-track legislation putting mutant-kind right where it belongs; registration, segregation, then finally, extermination. Just like the vermin you are.
"And when the mutant's protectors, the X-Men, die on Capitol Hill, after their successful assassination of their peace-loving mouthpiece, Charles Xavier, Mutants will have no voice, nor muscle. Imagine it if you will; Captain America, the very symbol of our great nation, leading legions of SHIELD troops, weeding every town and hamlet of mutants, and as rodents removed and safely interned away from real America! All part of the Cyrus Parkman Initiative, Mutant Registration Act sounds so, hateful. So this little piece of mutated shit, will live on as a rallying point to destroy mutant-kind! It will be beautiful."
"NO WAY SLEASEBAG!" Jubilee yelled at him. "The X-Men are gonna stop you!"
"No child, they didn't. My apologies. No one told you that the order to kill Charles Xavier was given at the time you and Nichols tried to kill Cyrus before the President's own eyes. He is already dead. Alas, that sniper's single shot, will go down as the second 'Shot Heard 'Round the World.'" Crain then turned to face Agent Nichols. "It will be a shame, Kordel that you will not live to hear your people curse your family's name!"
"Not only are you sick, you're stupid! Gerald Crain, you're under arrest for violation of United States Code, Title 18 § 879! You have the right to remain silent! Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in a court of law! -"
"Don't waste your breath, Agent Nichols. You ARE going to need it." Crain then signaled to the three hooded men behind him. One took Cyrus out of the room, the other two held a Taser and an Asp baton respectively.
"Now, Kordel, my men found a cell phone in the car you crashed in. We traced the last call you made to a throw phone's voice mail. Tell me, who did you try to contact? Charlie Block? Dr. Xavier? One of your mutie confederates? We need to know if our plans are in jeopardy! TELL ME!"
Nichols straitened as much as his restraints would allow. "Mr. Chairman, I honestly have, absolutely no recollection of those events."
"Charming to the last," Crain gestured to his men. The one with the baton extended it to its full 24-inch length. It's steel, balled, tip gleamed in the harsh lighting as he raised it over his head then crashed it into Agent Nichols' stomach. The air rushed out of his lungs at the force of the blow through clinched teeth. The Asp again was brought down, this time at Kordel's unprotected thigh, then his chest, his ribs, his legs. Over and again the blows struck home.
"Stop it!" Jubilee cried out. "Stop it! You'll kill him! Oh, God, Ev! Please make them stop!"
The Senator stopped his henchman. "My dear child, forgive my poor manors. After all, ladies first, and what not." He then nodded to the other man with the tazer who then approached her. Activating the stun device at eye level, Jubilee could see blue sparks crackling between the weapon's electrodes and echoing off the walls in the enclosed room.
"Tell me, who did you try to contact? We cannot kill Parkman's brat unless we know it is safe to do so, tell me!"
"Crain!" Nichols shouted. "If you so much as smear her make-up, I shall personally send you straight to Hell!"
"Cheap theatrical clichés now, Agent Nichols?" he remarked snidely as he stroked a finger along Jubilee's inhibitor collar. "Oh but you always were a sucker for the classic damsel in distress, weren't you? Now, my dear child, who else knows!"
"Lean closer."
Crain stepped close, his face level with hers. "Well, my dear?"
She spat in his eye.
"You might kill some mutants, but you could NEVER destroy the Dream! GO TO HELL, FLATSCAN BASTARD!"
As the Senator staggered back, the tazer was placed under her chin, causing her to wail a blood-curdling scream. Over and over the weapon was jabbed to her body causing extreme voltage to curse through her body while Nichols was again repeatedly struck with the baton.
The sound of Jubilee's screams filled the room for what seemed like an eternity, as the two captives were savagely tortured. Until suddenly another man entered the room and spoke something to the Senator, who reacted in anger.
"WHAT!" he yelled loud enough for the two henchmen to stop their assault. "Leave them for now. Come, we have other moves to make," He then turned to his injured captives. "We will leave you two muties to stew, but rest assured, your end is in sight." All four men left the room and closed the heavy metal door behind then locking it with an audible click.
Once the heavy blast doors were closed, Lt. Dugan and two Marine Sergeants guarded the hall as the remaining eyes were on White House Agent-In-Charge Ron Zigler and Col. Fury as they reported on what happened, and it's connection; the attack on Capitol Hill, The Shootout on 14th Street with the Director, and conformation on the Convention Center intel, and the crashed Explorer on 12th Street.
"Bottom line, Ron, where is my son?"
"We don't know, Mr. President. We just don't know."
"Kordel?" Jubilee called out after what seemed like an eternity had elapsed. "Kordel, are you okay?"
Agent Nichols just hung there. "Come on Secret Agent, Dude, wake up. Me and Wolvie got outta tougher spots than this before. Kordel? Come on speak to me!
Nichols slowly lifted his head and opened his eye, the bruises from the blows to his head were extensive and blood covered over half his face. "Are- are you all right." came the weakened reply.
"Yea, I'm in one piece. You okay, Secret Agent Dude?"
"Peachy," he responded before drooping his head again.
"Come on Kordel, keep talkin' to me! We gotta bust outta here and get 'Watt back. Don't give up on me! Come on, tell me why that sleaseball Crain's got such a beef with you. Say something, damn it!"
"My- my last protection assignment," Nichols' labored breathing forced him to focus on his words. "He and his son were at a party fund raiser in Charlotte, hosted by the Secretary of the Treasury, when I heard the sounds of a struggle coming from one of the bedrooms. I busted in and found his son trying to force himself on some young aide. I- I didn't care who it was, rape is rape, so I cuffed him with his pants around his ankles and made him do the perp walk in his boxers. Crain tried to interfere, I arrested him for obstruction and accessory after the fact."
"I found out he's had done this before, and like in the past it was covered up. The Director was Agent-In-Charge of Fencing Master Detail and the Charlie Block was on Castle Duty and they protected my career, but Crain's clout was so damn strong he was able to keep out of the press and avoided court by paying her off, but she was a mess."
"Who was she, Kordel?"
"My- my ex-girlfriend. We both worked out of the Boston office back in college, and we had joined the Service together, but her eyesight kept her out. She went to work for the governor of Vermont's office, then went to work for the GOP. Until those bastards crossed her path, she was being groomed to be Vermont's next Congresswoman. She was a mess psychologically. She had to quit her job and started seeing a shrink. She finally worked up enough courage to bring charges against him, but-"
" 'But,' what? What happened to her?"
"She was killed by a carjacker in Montpelier six months ago. The report said it was a random act, but something in the back of my mind always said Crain was behind it, but I couldn't prove anything. DAMN HIM. She was only 25."
"I'm sorry, Kordel."
"I know, Jubilee. Tell me, who's Ev?"
"My Best Bud," she replied swallowing hard as her memories flooded back. "We were jumped by some creeps in a place just like this. Where are we?"
"The zoo. When I was a kid we took a tour of the zoo at Franklin Park, and I will always remember the smell of the lion's cage. We have to get out of here. If Xavier is dead -"
"He ain't dead," she said flatly. "Tougher, meaner, and deadlier have all tried, and all of them crapped out. And besides, even if the Prof was to ever get bagged, it sure as hell ain't gonna be some pervert from the Dirty South, and especially not by any punk-assed rifle, besides your boy Charlie would have shagged a few with his vest."
"They may call him 'Bulletproof,' but he never wears his vest."
"Oh no!" she gasped. "He couldn't! He just couldn't!"
"What are you saying, Jubilee?"
"You mean you didn't know? Kordel, your partner's a mutant! Jean found out when she did that psi-scan for you at the airport. She told me and Wolvie yesterday, he can make bullets change course and hit him."
For Agent Nichols, Jubilee's statement, was the final piece to the puzzle. He remembered the time Charlie Block was shot, leaping in front of a counterfeiter's .38 after their cover was blown.
Then, he also remembered the advice he had been given on getting out of handcuffs. "We're getting out of here, right now."
Twisting sideways as far as his restraints would allow him, he began the slow methodical process of swaying the leg weights towards the side of beef next to him, working the weights to his advantage. Slowly, like a pendulum, each swing adding to the excruciating pain to his cuffed wrists as he neared the breaking point of his hands that were turning bright purple.
"Come on, Secret Agent Dude. You can do it," Jubilee urged on. "It'll stop hurting when you get us outta here. Heck, once, back when I was with the X-Men, me and the Wolfster were in Madjipoor, hangin' out in this dive bar in Lowtown, minding our own business you understand, when outta the blue, in walks a buncha pissed-off Hand wannabes, and one makes Wolvie drop his bottle of Jack Daniels, and, well, you know Wolvie, we were forced to start kickin' some butt-"
[Almost there,] Kordel chanted over and over in his head to block the extreme pain of the weight swinging Agent Nichols' 6' 1" frame nearly horizontal, then the weight hit its target.
Now the leg weights hung on the side of beef, giving him the leverage to lift his handcuffs of the hook, slamming him upside-down, hanging by his leg cuffs.
"See, Special Agent, Dude. Wasn't that easy?" Jubilee quipped trying to hide her look of relief. "Now are you gonna just hang around over there all day, or were you serious about getting us sprung?"
Nichols then pulled himself up to free the weights from his legs, sending him crashing to the concrete floor. Tugging on the side of beef, he then pulled himself to his feet, then half-dragged his body over towards the young mutant.
"Where - where are your sunglasses?"
"My shades? They're in the inside pocket, why?"
Slipping both cuffed hands inside Cyrus' jacket, he took out the Gen-X student's favorite pair of sunglasses, the pink wrap-arounds that Jean had given her when she had regained the ability to walk.
"When we get out of this mess, I shall buy you a dozen of these," he huffed, just before he broke them in half.
Snapping off an earpiece, he bit off the rubber temple-pad, exposing a small, sharp, metal point. He them worked the point into the keyhole of his handcuffs and within moments, picked them open.
"Damn. You're a better escape artist then Gumbo," she reported with approval, as he lifted her off the hook and undid her restraints. Once freed, she threw her arms around him in a hug of relief and squeezed hard. "Thanks, Special Agent, Dude." She told him after pulling away. "Now let's get outta here an' rescue 'Watt before those scumbags come back. First we gotta get a hold of Big Blue so he can get this collar off and I can get my fireworks back."
"Turn around, Jubilee, I can do it."
"You can shut these things off?" She asked as she turned to allow the Secret Service Agent to examine her collar. "Usually Jean or the Professor zaps them with their minds before Hank or Gumbo unlocks them."
"This is a piss-poor knock-off of the DMD-Mark IV Inhibitor." He diagnosed. "I learned to hot-wiring better ones than this, since before I earned my badge." Using the broken glasses, he popped off the electronics' backing plate to the inhibitor and started to work on the wiring. The LED light in the front of the collar switched from green to red. Then in moments, back to green.
"There," he pronounced. "I am sorry I can not remove it for you, but it is disabled. I tripped the LEDs so they will think it is still working. Now to start sweet-talking this deadbolt." Kordel said then turned to begin work on the heavy metal door.
"Well, let's see if you're right about this collar. Stand back!" Jubilee moved to the door and pointed a finger at the lock. Quickly a concentrated stream of pyrotechnics hit the metal workings of the lock, causing it to begin to glow as its temperature rose, finally causing the lock to begin melting away from the door. "Ya see, I've been doin' this since before I joined the X-Men. Now let's make like an exorcist and get the Hell outta here."
End of Chapter Thirty
© David D. Amaya 2007