Writer's Notes: Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. I know I introduced a lot of characters; all both very familiar and simultaneously different in many ways. I don't expect a lot more new cast intros in this chapter; just a few supporting characters at the Krypton Institute and the first spate of bad guys. On that note, however, Marvel has had several anti-mutant groups over the years: Weapon X, Friends of Humanity, Operation: Zero Tolerance, Church of Humanity, Purifiers, Reavers and so forth. I decided to merge them all into a single organization. I'll be using the Humanity's Last Stand name simply because I like the sound of it. The Purifiers and the Reavers are both under its umbrella and not necessarily anything like they are in canon. I'll probably do the same with Weapon X, but they won't be playing a role in this chapter beyond possibly a passing mention.
Chapter 02: Welcome to Kansas
The next few weeks passed quickly and Labor Day weekend was soon upon them. That Friday night found Cal, Laurel, Scott and Alex landing at what was laughingly called Smallville Airport. Although Alex was as gifted a pilot as his brother, only Scott, at seventeen, was old enough to have his private pilot's license. The small jet he flew them there in belonged to the school and looked deceptively normal, but was anything but. It wasn't quite as advanced as one of the X-jets, but it was still designed by Forge who hadn't built anything normal since he was six. Of course, they didn't intend to need any of the jet's special capabilities. It was chosen for its ability to blend.
Johnathan was waiting for them leaning against a battered old Ford SUV. "Martha's gettin' dinner ready. Hope ya all brought your appetites. She's plannin' quite a spread."
Once they loaded into the vehicle, Scott saw that like the jet, it was anything but a normal car. For one thing, it started up with none of the normal engine noise or vibration. For another, the instrument panel was extremely high tech for such a seemingly older car.
"Solar or electric?" he asked.
"Neither," John told him proudly, "but closer to electric than solar. Runs on experimental hydrogen cell technology. It ain't marketable yet, still too expensive t' mass produce, but it shows a lotta promise. Laurel helped develop it."
The twelve year old blushed. "I didn't do that much, Daddy; just helped with some of the computer coding."
Her father grinned even more proud of his daughter's accomplishments than his own. "It's that coding that makes the whole thing work, monkey."
"Daddy!" Laurel was horrified at the use of the affectionate nickname.
"Monkey?" Alex grinned mischievously as Laurel looked like she wanted to climb into the car's upholstery.
"Long story," Cal told him, simultaneously making the most of his sister's mortification and coming to her aid. "When she was three, she fell in love with anything having to do with monkeys or apes. She made some of the people at the institute paint her room with a jungle motif and had this Curious George doll that she took everywhere; wouldn't eat anything for breakfast but bananas and milk. It was really very cute. Then one day, she went missing and no one could find her. Ma and Pa turned the farm and institute upside down looking for her. When we finally found her, she'd climbed into some of the highest branches of an old tree down by the lake and fallen asleep more than fifty feet above the ground. Pa had to get lowered from a helicopter to get her down."
"I'd have gotten down by myself once I finished my nap," Laurel growled.
"She's been monkey ever since," Cal continued, "but only among family. Pa's really the only one who still uses it. It's his pet name for her. I only call her monkey when I'm mad at her."
Scott smiled to Laurel's relief. "Your secret's safe with us . . . right, Alex."
Alex frowned, then sighed. "Spoilsport. Okay. Just among family."
Scott shook his head. "Just remember there's a lot of ammunition I could give her to use against you if I have to. Two words: Crater Lake."
That piqued Cal's interest. "No fair leaving it at that, cousin. Out with the story."
Now it was Alex' turn to squirm as Scott happily obliged. "It was just before the plane crash. We were stationed somewhere in Oregon. I think it was a long weekend. Dad took us out on a borrowed boat and we had a picnic on Wizard Island. I remember it was cold and Dad made a campfire. Then we realized that Alex wasn't getting under foot like usual. We don't know what happened, but when we looked, we found him floating in the water, more than twenty feet off shore. Fortunately, both of us were still wearing our life jackets."
Scott's smile saddened perceptively. "I remember Mom grabbed me while Dad ran out to the end of the small dock our boat was tied to. He jumped in fully clothed, shoes, wallet and all. When he got Alex back to the shore, the poor kid was blue. Mom stripped him out of his wet clothes and wrapped him in blankets like a burrito. Dad just sat down next to the fire and warmed himself that way."
His voice went dead. "It's one of the last good memories I have of them . . . one of the few."
Laurel decided to break the tension at that point and turned to Alex. "So, did you ever learn how to swim?"
Alex smiled gratefully. "I'll have to show you my medals and trophies some time; swimming and surfing."
"Can you letter in surfing?" Laurel grinned.
"Only in Hawaii and some schools in California." Alex did his best to sound dead serious.
On the way to the farm, Cal noticed that his father took a different route than he normally would; a longer one without amenities or sights to justify it. Although he hid it well, it was also apparent that the elder Kent had things on his mind. After Scott and Alex were settled into rooms, Cal decided to broach the subject.
"What's wrong?"
John considered denying it, but decided it wouldn't do any good. "You're too perceptive for your own good, sometimes, champ."
He sighed. "Some new folks showed up in town after you left. It was one of the reasons we didn't wait until this weekend to send Laurel and the other kids to join you in Westchester."
Cal frowned. "Who are they?"
"Nothing for you to worry about." Johnathan insisted. "They're part of some group; call themselves Humanity's Last Stand; don't like mutants much and make a lot of noise 'bout it. They leased a storefront in town. Folks 'round here don't cotton to that kind of nonsense. I'm bettin' they'll move on by Halloween."
"I read about them in some of the X-Men files I read at school. They make the Klan look cuddly. They have a lot of high tech equipment; including some robots they call Sentinels."
Johnathan placed a hand on Cal's shoulder. "I know all about 'em, champ. Like I said they're not anything for you to worry about. Leave 'em to us. You kids need to focus on school. Not even that, this weekend, all four of you need to focus on being teenagers and enjoying yourselves."
"Are you sure?" Cal was still reluctant. "If they know what kind of work you do here, they could cause a lot of trouble."
Johnathan laughed. "Even in Smallville, only a handful of folks have any idea an' they ain't gonna be talkin' to any speciesists. Most of 'em are related to Lana, Pete, Chloe or one of the other kids we've helped."
Jimmy's only close relative was an aunt who lived in Florida and was all too happy to get him out of her hair. Tim's dad lived in Chicago and they stayed in close contact, but Tim's powers made it too dangerous for him to live in an unsecure location. Selina was an orphan. Up to now, the Institute was the only home she'd ever known.
Lana, Pete and Chloe were all local kids. No one was sure why, but Smallville and the other towns in Lowell County all seemed to have a measurably higher percentage of mutant births than anywhere else. That was one of the reasons the Krypton Institute was set up here. Could the HLS goons have discovered that truth? Was that why they were there? Cal intended to find out.
"I want to go into town tonight, Pa," he said innocently.
"Why? I told you not to worry about these guys."
"I just want to have a look around," Cal insisted. "I won't go near that storefront. I won't have to. If I don't learn anything, fine. I'll forget about it and spend the rest of the weekend being a teenager. All of us have some circuitry sewn into our clothes that masks us from almost any mutant detectors the HLS has. I just don't think I can let this go without at least trying."
Johnathan nodded reluctantly, knowing there was no deterring the boy once he caught the scent of something like this. "Wait 'til after everyone's gone to bed and don't say anything to your Ma. Just one reconnaissance run, then back home. If you learn anything, you tell me about it in the morning. I don't want you getting involved."
Cal hugged his father.
Johnathan had one more requirement. "And clear it with Scott first. He's your team leader. I taught you to respect that."
"Yes, sir."
Dinner was over before Cal had a chance to talk to Scott and just past ten p.m. when he slipped out his bedroom window and into the night. Scott's first inclination was to go with Cal, but he had to admit he wouldn't have been very useful given the mission. He would be waiting up when Cal got back, however, and expected a full report.
The Kent farm was a couple miles outside the Smallville city limits. Even flying leisurely, Cal covered the distance in less than a minute. Dressed in dark clothing and hovering several hundred feet above the town's rooftops, Cal was as good as invisible. He quickly scanned the town with his incredible vision and found the storefront he was looking for in seconds. There was a handful of people working late inside. With a combination of telescopic vision, x-ray vision and parabolic hearing, he might as well have been standing amongst them.
At first, there was nothing really interesting going on; just the day to day business of running a hate group. Not even the hundreds of documents Cal scanned at breakneck speed had anything incriminating. In fact, he was about to give up and head home when one of the men let something slip.
"Are you sure the intel we got on this town was accurate?" He asked his superior. "We've been here for two weeks and haven't seen or heard anything."
"Our mole inside SHIELD finally hit pay dirt," the second man said persuasively. "He blew his cover and barely escaped with his life, but he secretly made copies of a bunch of classified documents before they got suspicious and he had to run. We've had teams out ever since and enough of the data has been confirmed to convince the leadership that it wasn't planted and that race traitor, Fury, doesn't know we have it."
He paused. "This area was only mentioned peripherally in the info, but they definitely mentioned some kind of private project studying a spike in mutie births in the county. I'm sure people around here know more than they're saying. I'm not sure if they're all race traitors or just ignorant. Doesn't matter. This place is paid for through the end of the year. We don't learn anything by then, we'll re-evaluate. Until then, we do our jobs."
He figured he'd learned enough, so he did a roll and headed back to the farm. As expected, Scott was up and in the living room when Cal came in. Everyone else was asleep. Cal didn't figure he'd discovered anything so earthshattering that he couldn't wait until morning to tell Pa.
"What did you learn?" Scott asked quietly.
"They know something's going on here," Cal told him. "They had a mole inside SHIELD. Smallville and the Institute were mentioned peripherally in some documents he copied. He blew his cover and barely escaped, but SHIELD doesn't seem to know what or how much he took with him."
Scott nodded. "It's bad, but not as bad as it could have been. The Institute will need to lay low for a while, but they've been doing that they whole time they've been here. I'll call the Professor in the morning. He can get in touch with his liaison inside SHIELD and let them know they need to figure out what this mole knew. I don't know how closely connected the Institute and SHIELD are, but there's a good chance Col. Fury will want to send some agents into the area to add a little extra security. That will be between him and your folks. For once, we not only don't have to get involved, we'd attract far too much unwanted attention if we did."
Cal had to agree with that assessment. "I promised Pa that unless I found some kind of ticking time bomb, I'd spend the rest of the weekend being a normal teenager and let him worry about the HLS. I intend to keep that promise starting at dawn, so I'm heading for bed."
Scott yawned. "I'm still on East Coast time, so it's well past my normal bedtime. I'll be right behind you."
First thing Saturday morning, Cal told Pa Kent what he learned. As he did, Scott was calling Professor Xavier. Within the hour, Xavier had called SHIELD and Fury was on the phone with Johnathan. The four teens' role in this was over for the moment, however, so Cal and Laurel took Scott and Alex on a grand tour of the Kent Farm and Krypton Institute. First up was meeting Johnathan and Martha Kent's partners in the project, Jordan and Laura Ellis, who also happened to be Cal and Laurel's godparents.
"How's Selina doing?" Laura asked after greeting the four.
Jordan and Laura couldn't have kids of their own and had virtually adopted Selina. She even called them Mom and Dad.
Cal smiled. "She's doing great. She's already made several new friends and has only gotten herself into three fights since she arrived."
Jordan was a little concerned. "How bad?"
"Not too bad," Laurel assured them. "No blood was drawn and a couple of boys learned a valuable lesson. One of the guys on Scott and Cal's team has taken her under his wing."
"Logan's done that with several other students, boys and girls alike, some for longer periods than others," Scott reported. "He's more than a little rough around the edges and I can't say I always approve of his methods or style, but not one of the dozen or more kids he's mentored has fallen to the dark side and a couple of them were a lot closer to that edge than your Selina."
"How many students from the Academy have fallen 'to the dark side' as you call it?" Laura Ellis asked.
"Too many," Scott admitted. "Ten. I asked the Professor once and that's the number he told me. I only know who maybe half of them are. He remembers each one and they haunt him."
The four spent the rest of the day just being teenagers; including riding horses (although Cal and Laurel had to wear grav belts to reduce their weight), a picnic and swimming in the lake that supplied water to the farm. It was an enjoyable weekend; particularly for Scott and Alex, who had both been living on the front lines since forming their teams.
As Saturday flowed seamlessly into Sunday, the family started the day off with church. It was what you did in small towns in Kansas for the most part. The members of the congregation went out of their way to make Scott and Alex feel welcome, but their training showed through. Both took seats at the very back of the church close to an exit . . . just in case. After consulting with their parents, Cal and Laurel joined them and eventually, the whole family, who normally sat much closer to the front, was seated together. Some may have wondered, but no one said anything. It wouldn't have been proper.
At the beginning of the service, the minister made a sad announcement. "Some of you may not have heard yet, but little Callie McDaniel from Corby is still missing. It's been almost twenty four hours now. She went out to play on her parents' farm yesterday and hasn't been seen since. The police have asked that anyone who knows anything or even thinks they might know something contact them. I also ask that you all pray for her and the McDaniel family as they go through this most difficult time."
Cal recognized the name. Callie was one of the younger mutants in the area. Corby was less than ten miles from Smallville. She'd been to the Institute several times and her family was well known to the Kents. He looked meaningfully at Scott, then turned to his parents. Johnathan and Martha looked at each other with concern, but both quickly nodded.
Cal leaned over to whisper to Laurel. "Stay with Mom and Dad. Get them home safe, then watch over the Institute."
Laurel nodded solemnly. She didn't have to like it, but Scott, Alex and Cal were all on X-Teams. She wasn't . . . yet.
The three boys slipped out the exit as quietly as they could; grateful for Scott's foresight in choosing the seats. Once outside, they ran into the nearby tree line, where Cal wrapped an arm around each of his cousins and lifted off.
"Can you get us to the plane without being spotted?" Scott asked.
"Easy," Cal assured him. "It's Labor Day weekend. No one's going to be there."
Aboard the jet, they quickly changed into their field uniforms. Cal's reflected his Midwest sense of patriotism; white boots and belt, red leggings with a vertical blue stripe up the outside, a blue tunic with "X" insignia on the left breast in red, topped off with a pair of high-tech sunglasses designed by Forge and Sage, two of the teachers at the Academy. He finished the costume with padded white fingerless gloves that were actually designed to reduce the impact of his blows.
Scott quickly got on the jet's radio and contacted Xavier. "Professor, we have a missing mutant child from one of the neighboring communities. Her name is Callie McDaniel. She's in the Krypton Institute files."
Xavier paused a moment, obviously checking the files Johnathan had given him a few weeks before. "I have her file. She's only eight and her powers have yet to fully manifest, but she's exhibited some level of psychometry and she has a slight physical mutation in her eyes; particularly when exhibiting her powers. Do you believe her disappearance is connected to the HLS activities in the area?"
"No way of knowing at this point," Scott admitted, "but you always taught me not to believe in coincidences. If they do have her, she's just a kid and knows about the Institute. I don't think we can afford to take the risk."
"Your recommendations?" Xavier had a lot of trust in the Summers brothers.
"Put the X-Men on alert," Scott suggested. "Keep X-Factor in reserve and ask Slipstream to be ready for a quick transit if needed. I'll take Havok and Valor, and pay a friendly visit to the HLS offices in Smallville. If anyone's there, we'll have a talk. Hopefully they'll attack us. If no one's there, we'll take a look around and see what we can find. The risk in either case is minimal. This is too small an operation to have any Sentinel or Reaver support."
Xavier nodded on the screen. "Unfortunately, Slipstream and X-Force are on another mission. Proceed anyway. I'll prepare the others and an X-Wing in case they're needed. They won't be able to be there as quickly as Slipstream, but it will have to do."
Charles didn't add a "be careful". He didn't have to. Staring at the now dark screen built into his desk, he reached his mind out to the other members of the two teams. All the while, he prayed they wouldn't be needed.
Back in Smallville, once they were clear of the vacant airport, the trio decided against stealth. There wasn't much of a way that three brightly clad young men weren't going to attract attention in a small Kansas town, so they didn't try. Valor touched down outside the front door and took point as they approached the entrance. The office seemed to be open, surprisingly enough. Apparently, they had plans to use the Labor Day festivities to get their message out. The last thing they ever expected was to have three powerful mutants stroll calmly into their store front.
At first, the three men and two women in the place were dumbstruck, so Cyclops decided to start the conversation. "Good day, folks. We'd like to ask if any of you know anything about a little girl that disappeared about ten miles from here."
The five looked at each other nervously, inadvertently betraying their involvement in the matter, then one man stepped forward threateningly. "We don't want you kind around here, freak. Get out before we call the police."
Valor smiled. "Now that's downright rude. Is that any way to treat a visitor? No wonder no one in this area wants anything to do with you folks. We merely asked a civil question. No need to get all hostile."
Suddenly, three more men poured into the front from a back room. They were armed with high-tech rifles. Cyclops and Havok recognized the weapons immediately.
"Neural Nullifiers." The brothers said simultaneously as they prepared to take defensive actions.
Valor didn't dodge, in fact, he moved forward. There wasn't much information on these weapons, beyond the fact that they cancelled out mutant powers. They were effective, but their effects were very temporary. At the same time, he was secure in his own abilities. His nervous system was so heavily charged that these guns would have little to no effect on him. Once the gunmen fired, of course, they would be the aggressors, giving the three teens a measure of leeway.
The HLS had files on Cyclops and Havok, so they would be known commodities. Valor was a different matter. This was his first field mission in costume and in the light of day. He was an unknown and therefore likely to be deemed more dangerous than his cousins. He was also the only one advancing, so all three fired at him simultaneously.
"Wow," Valor quipped as electrical energy cascaded around him. "That actually stings . . . a little."
Cyclops and Havok quickly took out the guns to either side with energy blasts of their own, turning the weapons into scrap. Valor reached forward and calmly disarmed the middle assailant. He figured Forge might like to get a look at an undamaged copy of one of these rifles.
He tossed the weapon to Havok. "Hold on to this."
Then he turned to the group's spokesman and got right in the man's face. "I'm going to ask this nicely only once. Where is the girl?"
"You all see this," the man called to his confederates. "He's assaulting me. Call the police."
Cyclops almost smiled at the man's hutzpah. "We've been recording all of this. You attacked us without provocation. We've actually acted with rather admirable restraint."
Valor sighed, lifted the man by the collar and flew out the door and up into the sky with him. "I asked nicely. Do I need to stop being nice?"
A few moments later, he returned to the store front and set the quivering man down in a chair. "Listen up. Even if you weren't involved in the actual kidnapping, each of you is an accomplice and just as guilty as those who did. If anything happens to that little girl before we get to her, you'll all go down for it. Even if you escape the Smallville PD, we have a friend who can hunt you down anywhere in the world."
He paused and began herding them towards the back of the store. "Fortunately for you, we don't have time to turn you in right now, so we're going to lock you in the bathroom. You may escape before the police get here. If you do, I'd suggest you run far, run fast and don't look back."
Once the eight were secured in the small bathroom, Valor bent a metal bar over to secure the door, then returned to Cyclops and Havok, who were still confused. "Let's go."
Picking up the brothers, Valor rocketed southwest. "They're holding her at an abandoned farm outside Corby. They set up some kind of central base there and are waiting for some serious reinforcements."
Cyclops was a little concerned. "What did you do to that guy?"
Valor smiled. "I was going to do my own version of Wolverine's popping a claw to either side of someone's head and threatening to pop the middle one, but it wasn't necessary. How could I know he was acrophobic? He would have sold out his own mother to get back on solid ground."
Cyclops nodded. "I'm not going to argue with your results, but next time let us in on what you plan to do. We work as a team or we don't work at all. Still, good work."
At the farm, Valor set down and quickly scanned the buildings. "Callie's alone in a room; second floor back right corner. She's been roughed up, but doesn't seem to be injured. There are about a dozen people in the house and four others in the barn. These aren't activists, they're soldiers and acting like it. There aren't any Sentinels or whatever, but there is a suit of power armor in the barn, along with enough ordnance to start a small war. Fortunately no one's in the suit right now. How do you want to play this, Cyke?"
Scott considered the information. "Havok, the barn and the power armor are yours. I'll take the house. Valor, you're the most mobile, get the girl and get her somewhere safe. We'll keep the kidnappers busy until you get back. Questions?"
Valor gave the brothers five minutes to get into position. It must have been just enough time because as he burst through the window of the room holding Callie McDaniel, he heard the explosion of Cyclops' eye beams taking out the front door and a good part of the porch. Less than an instant later, his enhanced hearing picked up the sound of Havok's plasma blasts turning the power armor into slag. The party had begun.
"Hello, Callie," Valor whispered gently as the child cowered away from him. "Ma and Pa Kent sent me to get you out of here and home to your parents. You want to go for a flight?"
The child practically leaped into his arms and he cradled her gently as he exited the way he came and rocketed at just under the speed of sound towards town. Fortunately, the same force field that protected his clothes would protect Callie from the pressures of going from zero to six hundred miles an hour in less than a second. Ten seconds later, he slowed down and landed in the McDaniel family's front yard. Several police and feds were gathered there and converged on them. Cal just set Callie down on the ground and let her run to her mother, then lifted back into the air.
"Stop," an FBI agent called. "You're going to have to answer some questions."
"No time." Valor looked back. "My team's dealing with the kidnappers and they need me."
Back at the farm, Cyclops was making good use of angles and caromed shots. He incapacitated six opponents before he had to retreat for cover. He knew he could take out the rest with a wide angle blast, but he was loath to do it. He couldn't rein in that kind of power; couldn't control it. If he did it, the remaining men inside and even the unconscious ones would be seriously injured and possibly killed. These men may not have had any qualms about killing him, but Cyclops was called to be better than that. He needed to find another way.
Havok was facing fewer opponents, but they were far better armed. The barn was on fire and two of the men inside had been knocked unconscious when the power armor exploded. Enough ordnance to equip an army was stored inside. Havok didn't know that for sure, but given the number of crates, he could make a pretty good guess. He also wasn't as restrained as his brother. He was willing to cut loose and he did, causing a chain reaction that quite literally blew the roof off the barn.
Havok was considering his handiwork, when the surviving two racists exploded out of the ruins in a jeep. One man drove. The other manned a mounted fifty caliber machine gun. Bullet trails sprayed a jagged line towards Havok, who was forced to dive for cover that really wasn't there. As he dove, he thanked his lucky stars for all the training in the Danger Room and fired off a blast of plasma that set off the ammunition as it burst through the barrel. The gun was destroyed and the gunner was thrown from the vehicle. The driver reacted the way anyone would in his situation, he tried to veer away from Havok, but wound up rolling the jeep instead. Havok scanned the area, nodded his head and set off at a run to back Cyclops up. This fight wasn't over yet.
Cyclops was still considering his options a second or two later when he saw the barrel of a gun extend out through a broken window. Reacting instantly, he severed the barrel with an optic blast. The force also knocked the gunman back, allowing Cyke to poke his head up, get a rapid assessment of the room, aim and take out three more targets with a single blast. He then ducked down as a shot from a fourth man nearly creased his skull.
"I'm done and on my way," Havok's voice came over Cyke's headset. "How you doing?"
"Holding my own," he replied. "I have nine down, but can't get a bead on the remaining trio."
"Let's focus on keeping them contained until Valor gets back," Havok suggested. "You have the front. I'm moving in on the back door. They aren't going anywhere and he can take them down with the smallest risk to peripheral damage."
Cyclops paused for a moment before nodding. "Agreed. Valor where are you?"
"Incoming," the young hero responded. "Thanks for leaving me a few at least."
Less than thirty seconds had passed since Valor first burst through the window and rescued Callie. In that time, Cyclops and Havok had taken out thirteen hostiles and destroyed an arsenal of weapons. Now, as Valor flew back into the house through the breach Cyclops made where the front door used to be, only three more members of Humanity's Last Stand remained conscious.
"You could always surrender," he offered as he hovered inches above the floor facing the flimsy barricade the survivors rapidly constructed. "I don't expect you to, but it would be the least painful option for you."
The three were armed with AK-47s and emptied their clips into Valor. He just floated there and resisted the subconscious urge to flinch.
"My turn."
Moving faster than the eye could follow, Valor backhanded the first across the cheek, breaking his cheekbone and jaw, and mercifully knocking him unconscious. The second assailant he took out with a knee that crushed the man's pelvic bone. The third he took out with a finger flick to the sternum.
"Clear." He called over the comm unit in his headset as he listened in on the police band. "The local sheriff has been alerted and is on his way with most of his force. Their ETA is ten minutes, so we have plenty of time."
Cyclops climbed in through the opening. "There should be enough forensic evidence in the bedroom to prove they were holding the girl here. We need to leave enough proof behind to convict them of hate crimes. Several lawyers are looking for a test case to take before the Supreme Court."
Havok had entered through the back. "I found an office. We have a laptop and a bunch of hard copy files. Valor, could you get in here and go through this stuff. We need to know who and what these serious reinforcements you were told about entail and when to expect them."
Cyclops nodded. "I'll check out the second floor. Havok, gather the prisoners outside the house and riot cuff them. We leave in five minutes no matter what we find."
A few hours later, the family gathered at the Kent home. The laptop and several documents taken from the farm house and store front were laid out on the kitchen table. Laurel was working to bypass the computer security software. It would likely take her less than ten minutes.
"They have a big force due in early tomorrow," Cal told his parents. "We're talking several Sentinels and other forces. According to the evidence we found, they intend to make an example of Lowell County. It's a big assault they've had in the works for a while and originally planned to pull it off in the New York suburb they call Mutant Town."
He frowned distastefully. "The powers that be decided we would be a better example since mutants have been living amongst us in the heartland of America for years and we've put up with it. I'm paraphrasing their propaganda, of course. It's going to take a lot more than the four of us to stop this."
"Pete, Jimmy, Selina and the others will want in," Laurel interjected without looking up from the computer she was cracking. "They may not have all been born here, they all consider this home. They have the right to help fight to defend it."
"They can join the X-Men and X-Factor when they fly out here if they choose to," Scott told her. "If nothing else, they can help behind the scenes. The only remaining questions are how big of a force are they sending and do we need to call in more support?"
"Nimrod itself is leading the assault," Laurel, having just finished working her way through the laptop's firewall, told them. "It's bringing a mixed assault of Shepherds, Alphas, Primes and Purifiers, whatever all of those things are."
Scott moved to look over her shoulder. "Shepherds are built on Nimrod designs. They aren't as deadly, but are more than tough enough and can be mass produced. Alpha Sentinels are the giant models; think walking tanks with weapons that can be adapted in field to counter a specific mutant. Prime Sentinels are cyborgs who have had their human minds overwritten by Sentinel programming. They're probably the deadliest of the threats. For all its power, even Nimrod is just a machine. It can mimic human spontaneity and creativity, but no machine ever designed has ever been able to duplicate it."
He paused to let that sink in. "Purifiers are their most highly trained and fanatical agents. They're armed with their highest tech weapons and armor, and many of them have had various levels of cybernetic and bio-enhancement. None of the people we've faced so far had Purifier level training, but the power suit Havok destroyed in the barn was probably designed as a Purifier prototype."
He continued reading. "For the good news, they won't be committing any Reavers to this assault. Apparently they're all divided between operations on the other side of the world and couldn't get her in time. It could be a lot worse."
"It's bad enough." Alex was looking over Laurel's other shoulder. "We'll need both of our teams and maybe even Kitty's team to boot."
"No." Scott shook his head and returned to his seat. "X-Force is away on their own mission this weekend. We can't count on them being available in time, so we'll have to make do with two field teams. Of course, with Cal and Laurel's friends, we'll have twenty one people on scene: one team to guard the Institute and two to take the fight to the enemy."
Alex nodded. "Seventeen people are already too many for Slipstream to carry anyway. Fortunately, they have time to get here on one of the larger X-Wing jets."
Scott agreed and made the call. By dinner, a cloaked jet was parked in a field left fallow this year and more than two dozen people gathered around several picnic tables set up in the yard behind the farm house. The new arrivals had been set up with quarters, most in the subterranean Krypton Institute complex, and had just enough time to get settled in and cleaned up to eat. Alex deferred to his brother as leader of the first team to take charge of the mission. If it had been his X-Factor team working with Kitty's X-Force crew, he would have taken the lead.
"Tonight," Scott began once everyone was finished eating, "we'll be breaking into three man teams. Each team will have at least one local with them to serve as guide if nothing else. Gambit and Warpath will be working with Selina, call sign: Feral. Wolverine and Polaris will be working with Jimmy, call sign: Adamant. Valor and Blink will be working with Tim, call sign: Inferno. Nightcrawler and Havok will be working with Lana, call sign: Panacea. Rogue and Quicksilver will work with Chloe, call sign: Changeling. Storm and Psylocke will work with Pete, call sign: Cypher. I'll be working with Sunfire and Laurel, call sign: Andromeda."
He paused to give the team members a chance to identify each other. "We neutralized the HLS bases in Smallville and Corby this morning. They're currently locked up for their involvement in the Callie McDaniel kidnapping. From the records we gathered, we know they have seven other bases scattered around Lowell County. Our mission tonight will be reconnaissance. I want to know what kinds of forces they have on the ground and which bases are best situated and set up to serve as launch points for this assault."
He nodded to Alex who took over. "Right now, they know that one assault by three mutants took out two bases and with a combined twenty four operatives and rescued the mutant child. The Professor did a little long distance memory fogging before any of the people in custody spoke to their HLS lawyers. All the organization will know is that there were three: a force projector, a plasma projector and a strong, tough flier. They might suspect a fourth mentalist of some sort was involved, but they shouldn't be expecting us."
Cal nodded. "If they did, they'd either call off the assault or send more forces."
"Maybe," Scott responded. "Probably. They've shown quite a level of hubris before and faith in their technology; much of which is reverse engineered from captured alien tech. I still wouldn't want to count on anything with this group of fanatics. They're capable of just about anything. If anyone can find out about any changes in their plans for tomorrow, it could be useful, but don't risk being spotted to get it. I'm already planning for twice the number of assets as were listed in the files we obtained. Even though the Reavers were reliably reported to be committed to a raid on Wakanda, I'm even planning a contingency for the possibility of their involvement."
Scott put a large bowl with several folded sheets of paper in the center of the table. "More on all of that in the morning briefing. For now, you have your teams and the locations are on these sheets of paper. Each team take one and remember be ready to head out as soon as it's fully dark. Stay in contact and be sure to get back here before midnight. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day."
Sunday night proved to be extremely uneventful, but that's not to say it wasn't productive. Three of the teams independently confirmed that the HLS believed Cassie was rescued by some local mutants and no one found any references to X-Team involvement. So far, so good. The last thing they needed was unexpected reinforcements. This fight was already going to be tough enough.
"The forces arriving in the morning will likely be fully equipped." Scott was working out a hypothesis. "What was the weapons stockpile in the barn for, then?"
"I may have an idea," Cal suggested. "They had nine bases in the area. The two we took out had eight and sixteen people, respectively. That means they could easily have a hundred people operating in the county. That arsenal could be for them."
"Too big," Alex responded, but was starting to think Cal was on the right path. "Unless they were expecting to recruit locals. The kind of arsenal I saw in there would equip a force twice that size."
"They must have been slowly feeding supplies from the Corby base to their other offices," Cal continued. "It's the only base isolated enough for a massive delivery to go unnoticed. They could have stocked them there as a precaution; expecting to use the farm as a training center to prepare the new recruits they never got for whatever apocalyptic vision of the future is their flavor of the day. After they kidnapped Callie and put this plan into action, they started slowly dispensing them to their other bases. That's why there were only three of those nullifiers, no other weapons and no body armor or other equipment at the Smallville office. They likely intended to step up the shipments tonight after most folks were asleep."
He shrugged. "Large shipments might be common place in New York and Chicago, but they tend to attract attention in small towns like we have here. We're busybodies; always sticking our noses into everyone else's business. It's practically an Olympic sport here."
"Let's hear it f'r small towns," Logan scoffed.
"It has its advantages." Cal smiled.
Scott knew better than to let that exchange continue. "I don't know how accurate your hypothesis is, Cal, but it's as good as any other and better than most."
Cal nodded. "It's how I'd do it in their shoes."
Scott raised an eyebrow at his cousin. "Regardless, that stockpile has been destroyed and none of us saw more than a few pieces of high-tech equipment at any of the other offices, so that's one more threat we won't have to worry about."
Alex knew his brother better than that. "Of course, you already have contingency plans to deal with both that and extra reinforcements being sent in."
Scott gave his brother a hint of a lopsided grin. "Naturally. The big question now is where will they launch their assaults from? If they know about the Institute, this will likely be a prime target."
Cal set that at ease. "Ma and Pa paid a visit to the McDaniel's house this afternoon. Callie let enough slip to confirm their suspicions about Lowell County, but she never revealed the location of the Institute; primarily because she really didn't know. All she told them was that it was a . . . and I quote: 'real long ride' and 'the people there were really nice'. She swears she never mentioned any names."
Scott thought for a moment. "I wish we could count on that. These people may be racists, but they're professionals. Whoever questioned Callie no doubt had some real training. There's no telling what she may have revealed without even knowing it."
"If it was me," Logan mused, "I'd use that farm you guys hit today t' launch my assault. It's isolated and pretty central t' th' county. They already used it at least once, so they know how t' get in an' out quietly. It's got all the things I'd want, plus it's already been taken out. Most folks 'd expect 'em t' abandon it."
"Fortunately," Ororo announced, "we won't have to guess. Forge sent a crate of one of his latest inventions with us. He calls them spy discs and sent us a dozen. They're saucer shaped, cloaked, mobile, programmable and have some pretty sophisticated sensors. At least that's what he told me when he was boasting about them."
Cal lit up. "We could have one watch the farm, keep one patrolling here just in case and send one to each of the surviving HLS bases."
Alex agreed. "The two dozen we took out are in the county lock up, so we might send one to keep an eye on them in case the HLS decides to spring them."
"That leaves two," Scott concluded. "Am I right that there are only two airports in the area that can handle full sized cargo transports?"
"Do you think they'd use cargo planes to transport their equipment?" Cal asked thoughtfully. "It's unlikely, but not impossible. You guys get some sleep. I'll head to the big jet read over the instruction manual Forge no doubt sent with his toys, launch the drones, then monitor them through the comm suite on board. I'll wake you all up as soon as anyone makes any moves."
Scott was about to object, but Cal cut him off. "I don't need as much sleep as the rest of you and I'll grab a nap once all the drones are in place. Given the flair for the dramatic and fondness for symbolism people like the ones the HLS would attract tend to have, I don't think they're likely to make any moves until just before dawn. Even if they do, I'll call you all immediately and we'll stop them."
It was ten pm when Cal flew up to the jet and the hatch opened for him. By midnight, he'd read Forge's notes and thoroughly familiarized himself with the equipment before launching them. Now, they were in position and programmed for their respective tasks. With everything in place, he reclined in the auto-ergonomically adjusting chair and settled back for a nap.
He woke up shortly after two am, fully rested and sifted through the feeds from the drones. There was little if any activity, but he had the feeling things were already in operation. Still, it wasn't time yet to wake the others. It would be obvious once they started making their move. For now, all he could do was watch and wait.