DEADLY NEW WORLD

Part IV: Rounding Out

By Dino Pollard

Anchorage, Alaska.

The snowmobile ran across the white-covered fields of Anchorage.

He maneuvered the snowmobile excellently, a talent gained from years of practice. That kind of thing happened when you lived in a place like Alaska. However, what Scott Summers doesn’t realize is that he’s not alone.

{{ We’ve got a lock. }}

{{ Wait for my mark… }}

{{ Yes sir. }}

Long Beach, California.

Hank McCoy sat nervously as he looked at the clock.

5:03.

Where was he? Hank had spent all day looking forward to this. An interview with a prestigious school that had limited enrollment? How could he resist?

Sure, there were other schools. But a school for mutants? A school where people wouldn’t look at him odd because of his enormous hands and feet? It was almost too good to be true.

The doorbell rang, and Hank instantly leapt from his chair, bounding to the door. He quickly opened it up to find a tall, bald man in his 30s standing there. The man was dressed very casually in a sweater and slacks. Hank felt a little embarrassed at the fact that he was dressed in dress pants, a dress shirt, and a tie.

“Professor Xavier I presume?” Hank asked.

“Yes,” Charles replied, extending his hand. “I suppose you’re Hank.”

“I am,” Hank stated, eagerly shaking Charles’ hand. There was a moment of silence, before Hank realized his error. “Oh, I’m sorry!! Please, come in.”

“Thank you,” Charles said as he stepped inside the home. He held a briefcase in one hand.

“Here, let’s not spend all our time by the door,” Hank said, leading Charles into the next room. He motioned to a chair. “Please, sit.”

Charles took a seat in the chair, with Hank sitting opposite. Charles then opened the briefcase, handing Hank some papers.

“Here is some information about my school.”

“One thing I’m mainly interested in is your mutant training courses,” Hank mentioned, rubbing his chin.

“I thought you might be,” Charles said. “As of right now, that isn’t advertised as one of the school’s finer points. In fact, it’s not mentioned at all.”

“Why?”

“Due to the current anti-mutant sentiment, advertising a school strictly for mutants might not be the best idea.”

Hank nodded.

“But, make no mistake, it does exist. Mutants will learn how to fully control their powers at the University.”

“How do you handle this training?”

“We use state-of-the-art technology which aid in training simulations, sometimes catered to individual abilities.”

“Where do you find funding for something like this?”

“…There is something else you should know about the school, Hank…”

“What’s that?”

“We actually serve two purposes. One is, yes, to train mutants in the use of their powers. But there is another purpose–and that is to serve the US government. You’ve heard about the problems overseas with the mutant calling himself Magneto, correct?”

Hank nodded.

“Magneto poses a possible threat to the US. And because of the ease he has dispatched troops so far, the government is forced to fight fire with fire. The President himself personally consulted me on the proper course of action. The course I chose is to launch a mutant strike force, comprised of young men and women willing to use their powers in order to protect the country. You are one of the candidates, Hank.”

Hank said nothing, just stared at Charles with wide-eyes.

Anchorage, Alaska.

Colonel Shiner, leader of the M-Squad, placed his hand to his ear.

“All units, move in,” he ordered. “Target is confirmed as a mutant–take him down.”

Scott brought the snowmobile to a stop in front of several members of the M-Squad.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

The M-Squad agents drew their weapons in response.

“Am I behind on my payments or something?” Scott asked.

“Scott Summers, I presume?” Shiner asked, stepping forward.

“Depends on why you want him,” Scott replied.

“I’m not sure you understand the severity of your situation, Mr. Summers,” Shiner warned.

“Actually…” Scott stated, removing his red sunglasses. Concussive bursts of energy fired from his eyes, slamming Shiner back a good 50 feet. “…I think I do understand!”

“You’re in over your head, Summers,” Shiner exclaimed as he stood. “Kill him!”

Before the rest of the M-Squad could fire, there was a blinding light.

“DAMMIT!!” Shiner exclaimed. “SWITCH TO INFRARED NOW!!! FIND THOSE MUTANTS!!”

Scott ran as fast as he could to try and get away from the agents. As he ran, he tried to figure out why the government would want him dead. Sure, he was a bit sarcastic, but isn’t everyone?

“Stay right where you are, mutie!” Special Agent Young ordered.

*SNIKT*

“…What the f–” Young began.

“Think yer tough, eh boy?”

“What’s going on?” Scott asked, his hand moving up to his sunglasses once more.

“DIE MUTANTS!!” Young shouted, beginning to fire into nothing.

“Missed me, bub.”

Retaliation came as Logan dived out from the trees, his claws slicing into Young. The agent went down with one hit.

Logan stood upright, and faced Scott, claws bared.

*SNAKT*

The claws slid back into his forearms like that. Scott watched as the holes in Logan’s hands also closed up.

“Nice hardware,” Scott noted. “Must come in handy when you lose a steak knife.”

“Cute,” Logan replied.

Jackson tried to spot anything with the infrared goggles he wore. The light had diminished, but that didn’t mean that the mutants were gone. Besides, if he kept the goggles on, he didn’t have to worry about being blinded again.

Suddenly, his sensors went off. He spun around to see a single heat signature. He deactivated the infrared to see Alison Blaire standing before him.

“You just made your last mistake, babe,” Jackson stated, lifting up his gun. “Give my regards to Satan, mutant scum!!”

Before he pulled the trigger, he heard something.

*GRRRRRRRRRR*

The sensors went off again, indicating an unknown mutant presence. And a volatile one at that.

*GRRRRRRRRRR*

Something large slammed into Jackson, knocking the gun to the side. Jackson cried out as he was pulled into the bushes. Ali wasn’t sure whether she should try and save the man who tried to kill her twice, or if she should just forget about it.

Her choice was the obvious one as she turned away from the site.

“Hold up…”

Logan held his hand up, to keep Scott where he was.

“What’s going on?” Scott asked.

*SNIFF*

*SNIFF*

“Are you… sniffing…?”

*SNIKT*

“Not here… not him…”

“What are you talking about?” Scott asked.

Logan sniffed the air again, but whatever he smelled before was gone. Now, he smelled only blood.

“Stay close…” he ordered as he moved through the snow to a patch of bushes. Brushing past them, he found the dead body of Jackson. It was mauled virtually beyond recognition. As if some sort of wild animal had gotten hold of the M-Squad operative.

“Damn…” Scott muttered.

“Ali…?” Logan asked, putting a hand to his ear.

{{ I’m waiting back at the transport, Logan. But, you won’t believe what I saw. }}

“I think I can guess. Where’s John?”

{{ You mean he’s not with you? }}

“Shit…”

John Proudstar never imagined his life like this.

He had always planned to use his superhuman speed and strength as a professional athlete. After all, when you’re as strong as an ox and as fast as a cheetah, what would you be better at besides playing pro football? He even had athletic scholarships to dozens of schools.

That was before he found out he was a mutant. Before he accidentally killed a man. Before he was on the run from the law.

And now, he finds himself trying to face off against professional mutant hunters. He’s a mutant who hasn’t been through any training, and now he has to try and take out professional mutant hunters.

He was about to move in. So far, the agent hadn’t noticed him. Maybe this superhero stuff wasn’t as hard as it see–”

*CHK*

“Get up.”

Then again… maybe John was just overconfident.

“Hands above your head.”

He considered shouting out to Logan for help. But, he knew the moment he opened his mouth, the agent would open fire. Yet, how long would he last if he kept quiet? These guys were hired for the express purpose of exterminating mutants. He had already heard that they tried to kill Ali once.

Well, it seemed that John Proudstar was stuck between a rock and a hard place. And the situation only got worse as the agent he was about to attack came towards them as well.

He was just beginning to pray when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the gun was shaking. And here, he thought that these guys were supposed to be professionals.

If John could see past the masks that the M-Squad agents wore, he would see that their faces were overcome with shock.

The guns pulled out of their hands and spun around. Then, the triggers slowly moved back.

*PFFT*

*PFFT*

Two silent shots. And it was over. The operatives were lying on the ground, dead.

“These are our oppressors.”

John looked up to see the image of a man in dark leather. He wore a leather cape, which had a purple tint to it, as well as a helmet with a similar tint.

“Look at them–they are the weak, yet they oppose us. We are the strong, yet we hide. Why is it that the strong are the oppressed, and the weak are the rulers?”

John said nothing, just watched in awe at the man floating before him.

“Think about it.”

With that, the man flew off, leaving John Proudstar to consider his words.

Long Island, New York.

Charles admired the garden of Nancy Grey. The wife of his former college professor certainly took pride in her work.

But, it wasn’t Nancy’s garden that Charles came here to see. Nor was it simply to shoot the breeze with Professor Grey. Rather, it was to speak with their 19-year-old daughter, Jean.

When Jean was 12, her telepathic powers first emerged. In order to help her cope with them, Professor Grey contacted Charles. He taught her how to deal with her powers the best he could. The pair struck a bond after that, a bond which they have shared through e-mails over the years.

“You still haven’t chosen a college yet, have you?”

“I’m still thinking about my options, that’s all…”

“You’ve been out of high school for a year, though.”

“I’d say I appreciate your concern Charles, but there’s no sense in lying to someone who can read my mind, is there?”

“I’ve spoken to your parents about this–“

“My parents don’t have any control over my decision.”

“True, but your father is an old friend of mine.”

“An old friend that you call Professor Grey?”

“Very funny. But, we’ve known each other for a long time, Jean. You know I wouldn’t want you to do something you weren’t comfortable with.”

“I understand, Charlie. And that’s why I’m going to attend your school. After all, if I’m going to have these powers, I might as well do something with them. And a government job sounds like it’s got plenty of benefits.”

“I was hoping you might say that.”