First Mutant
By David D. Amaya
Chapter 32
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The Corner of Kalarma Road and Connecticut Ave., Adams-Morgan, DC 1618 EST Day 21
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The well-disguised cargo van easily blended into the neighborhood of Addams-Morgan, as several UPS, Postal Service, FedEx, and other delivery vans of similar type aligned the streets.
As Wolverine's super-keen senses pointed out, there was no one in the van his claws penetrated, shredding the back doors wide open while Agent Nichols swept with his service pistol ensuring their safety before they entered the vehicle.
Much like any surveillance van seen on TV cop dramas, this one also had several video monitors, listening equipment and recording devices.
"Wow!" Jubilee exclaimed as she followed the X-Man and the Secret Service Agent in the van. "This stuff looks right out of CSI!"
"Yea darlin' but we ain't here to go lookin' fer reruns of Sons of Anarchy. You find any of this shit useful, G-Man?"
"There are five laser recorders and they are all active. Let us find out what they have on them." Kordel then hit the video recall buttons on each of the five machines.
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Situation Room, The White House 1621 EST
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"Sir," a signal watch officer reported. "It's the Director on line Delta."
"Put him through. Sir, this is Agent-In-Charge Ziegler, the President is listening."
"Good to here you Ron. Mr. President, order has been fully restored on Capital Hill. By the way, thanks for the SHIELD response, Nick. All legislative and judicial buildings are secured."
"Any injuries to report?"
"Special Agent Block has been shot, again," the Director continued. "A few of the CAT and SHIELD troops were slightly wounded in an exchange with heavily armed gunmen, but all are fine. Troops are awaiting orders at Carpet. No civilian injuries or casualties."
"What of my son?"
"Unknown at the moment, Sir. DC Metro Police reports a Shots-Fired call at the location of Agent Nichols' apartment. I'm on my way to supervise personally."
"If anything were to happen to my son-"
"I know, Mr. President, I know."
"Okay," Kordel narrated as he was fast-forwarding the five digital recorders. "Door number one is Pincushion, door number two is Punch Bowl, number three is my front door, number four is my kitchen window. But I can't figure out what's on the last one."
The video feed extended six hours, but the scene was all but unchanged. The only way the trio could ascertain that the footage was not one single still, was the swaying of leaves in a tree that was in the background.
"Wait a sec?" Jubilee asked as she pointed at the image. "What's that in the corner?"
Using the video equipment, Agent Nichols attempted to zoom in on the image Jubilee pointed at, but the image quality was very poor.
"Shit!" spat Agent Nichols. "I have seen better equipment used in public access cable telecasts! This junk is not going to give us any answers!"
"Then let's use ours," Wolverine suggested as he hit his comm unit.
"Cyke, Irish, come in. We need some help here."
"Wolverine! Is Jubilee and Agent Nichols all right?"
"Right here, Cyclops," Nichols assured him. "We are in a surveillance van on Connecticut and we stumbled upon a video image we can not figure out. The rest of them are of Capital Hill and my apartment-"
"So, like, we need the Blackbird to crunch the shot and tell us were it's coming from, so we can bust 'Watt free."
"I'll uplink the image," Banshee reported as he sent the video frequency to the trio in the surveillance van. Agent Nichols then was able to feed the video directly to the Blackbird. "I've got the image, lad. The computer 'tis washing the image. I'll be sending it back to ye."
"As you can see the image hardly changes," Agent Nichols noted. "We can not figure out what the white object in the lower right-hand corner is."
All eyes were on the mysterious image as computer was handling the image. The highly advanced Shi'ar technology was up to the task. The object in the corner was centered, blown up and now was in the process of enhancing the image.
"That is where they have taken Cyrus!" Kordel shouted as he pointed to the enhanced image. "It is closed for repairs, that is why the image has not changed!"
"Then what the hell are we waitin' for, Secret Agent, Dude? Let's get 'Watt back!"
"I have to tell the Director where we are headed, so we can get some CAT-support."
With that he left a message, coded so that the Director could locate where they were going. Then he braced a bar to the seat and steering wheel so that the van's horn would not shut off. Then they left to meet up with the X-Men to rescue the President's son.
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Kordel Nichols Apartment, Wyoming Ave., Adams-Morgan 1627 EST
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The last time the Director of the United States Secret Service entered the home of one of his agents was three days ago, conducting a full evidence search at the apartment his staff car pulled up to. Eight Special Agents, under his personal supervision, tore apart this place and seized several weapons and what would have appeared to be a small fortune in large bills. Damning evidence to the untrained eye, but to the man who oversaw the protection of the leader of the free world, it cemented the foundation of a grand-scale frame-up of his most promising Staircase agents.
Now he was entering a crime scene.
The kitchen door to Kordel Nichols' apartment was smashed. Tire marks on the linoleum floor a tell-tale sign a motorcycle knocked it down. A body with one of a set of knifes his wife had given Agent Nichols as a house warming gift was sticking out of the dead man's neck. Bullet holes in the cupboard and the direction the knife was pointing, all indicated the corpse was taken by surprise. A wallet was lying on its blood-soaked torso. Evidence that the deceased was searched post mortem.
"Rigor hasn't set in yet, sir," Metro District PD Detective Michel Hernandez told him. "His body temperature is still in the high 80's. This happened less than an hour ago at the most.
"Guessing by the angle of entry, the kill-shot came from the top of those stairs." He pointed, in a monotone droll that suggested he was having a long day as well. "The right hand looks like something was pried from it. I'd wager it was the gun that made those holes in the cupboards."
"You'd probably win that bet, Detective. Have any of the other rooms been disturbed?"
"Not since the last time we were here," he replied referring to the search three days ago. "I haven't been upstairs, and I told my boys not touch anything."
The Director then re-entered Kordel's study. Having trashed it before, Metro PD would not know what would be out of place here. Then he saw the newly ripped carpet of the closet.
Smart ass, he thought in reply, as he found that his search was not as rigorous. Okay, Kordel, you are armed and dangerous again. Where did you go, now?
"Sir!" a cop called out from the bathroom. "You'd better take a look at this!"
The Director entered the doorway and saw what the cop was looking at.
On the bathroom mirror, was a cartoon character, which was pointing to the west-facing window.
The drawing was of the popular Saturday morning cartoon character, the Roadrunner, the style was unmistakably that of Kordel Nichols, and obviously a message meant for his eyes, hidden in plain view.
All right, I'll play Wile E. Coyote, he thought was he moved to the window. But there had better not be any damn Acme Safe falling on my head.
The small window afforded a non-descript view of the neighborhood of Addams-Morgan, as several people came out of their homes to see what new excitement was played out on the normally quite afternoon.
"Okay, what the hell am I looking for Kordel?" he asked aloud. "All I see is the crowd you created. Nothing out of the ordinary, just some jackass who let his alarm on too long-"
The Director ran down the stairs as fast as he could and nearly ran down Detective Hernandez.
"Mike, I need some help from your District boys!"
Moments later, a cruiser found the source of the noise. Detective Hernandez drove the Director there in a flash.
" 'Roadrunner' is the codeword for a Communications Van," he explained as they pulled behind the van in question. "Although this isn't one, it's close enough. 'Tuner' would be too hard to draw."
The light blue cargo van with the phony cleaning company magnets on the side still had its horn blaring. Detective Hernandez killed it by removing it's fuse as not to disturb the scene.
"Definitely forced entry," the detective noted, after seeing the claw marks that tore the rear door open affording then an obstructed view of its contents.
"This van was snooping on Nichols' apartment," the Director stated. "The DB was in it and he traced them here. Impound this. I'll have some of my Blueprint guys sift through the video recorders."
"I'll go call for a tow rig," the detective replied as he went back to a Metro PD cruiser. "It's too bad he didn't tell us where he was headed."
Oh, he did!
The Director opened the driver door and found the keys to it sticking out of the car radio's tape deck, starting the engine, the radio was set to 107.9 FM, an unused station in the Beltway area, it I used as a code.
The Director then turned of the air conditioner although the weather was cool it revealed the location of Wolverine, Jubilee, Agent Nichols, and hopefully Cyrus Parkman.
It was an old street-cop trick he learned back with the Cincinnati Police Department, and one he personally shared with agents he handpicked. If you write with your fingertip along a warm windshield, turning on the AC will expose it.
'CAPITAL CHILDERNS MUSEUM' the windshield screamed at him. He went straight to his cell phone.
"GET ME NICK FURY, NOW!!!"
End of Chapter thirty-two
© David D. Amaya 2007