MERGERS & ACQUISITIONS

Part I: Sins of the Father

By Dino Pollard

X-Corporation HQ; Chicago

He steps through the large glass doors of the X-Corporation building. His face is unshaven, his hair is in desparate need of a comb. He hasn’t had a bite to eat or even had a moment to rest. He is a man on the run, and he needs help. The suit he wears is wrinkled, the collar of his white shirt is unbuttoned, his tie hangs loose around his neck. He approaches the security guard seated.

“Something I can help you with, sir?” asks the guard.

“I need to speak to Warren Worthington…” he replies.

“Do you have an appointment?” asks the guard.

“No…”

“Then I’m sorry, but you have to have an appointment,” says the guard. He picks up a phone at his workstation. “If you like, I can patch you through to Mr. Worthington’s secreta—”

The man’s hand lunges forward and grips the guard’s neck.

“Listen, I have to speak to Worthington immediately, it’s an emergency,” says the man. He places his free hand on the guard’s chest and it slowly begins to sink inside. “Now you are going to let me see him, or I am going to squeeze your heart until it pops.”

“S-stop…”

“No,” says the man. “Get on the phone and tell him Shinobi Shaw is here to speak with him.”

Other security guards draw their weapons and aim them at Shinobi. He looks around and pushes his hand deeper into the guard’s chest.

“I’m here to speak to Warren Worthington,” he says. “Either you let me through, or this man dies. The choice is yours. And I have no qualms about killing him just so you know.”

One of the guards takes a shot, firing a bullet that passes right through Shinobi’s head.

“I can turn intangible, you minimum-wage morons,” says Shinobi. “You’re only wasting bullets and trying my patience.”

“Enough.”

The guards and Shinobi both look to the source of this new voice. A man with blue skin, short blonde hair, and dressed in a white business suit with large feathered wings protruding from his back. An X is pinned to his lapel.

“Hello Warren,” says Shinobi with a grin.

“Gentlemen, lower your weapons,” says Warren. “I’ll handle this.”

The guards slowly comply with the order and Warren steps closer.

“What’s the meaning of this, Shinobi?” he asks. “What do you want?”

“I came here to speak with you, Warren,” replies Shinobi.

“Was all this really necessary?” asks Warren. “You could have easily made an appointment.”

“Something tells me you wouldn’t have agreed to meet with me,” says Shinobi.

“You’re right,” says Warren. “I hope I can trust you not to kill anyone while you’re in my building?”

“As long as no one gives me a reason to,” says Shinobi as he releases the guard he was holding.

“Good,” says Warren. “Follow me.”

Inside the large, spacious office, Warren takes a seat behind his desk and motions for Shinobi to sit before it.

“I have to hand it to you, Warren, you certainly have a nice set-up here…” says Shinobi.

“Get to the point,” says Warren. “If I’m in the presence of a Shaw for too long, I need a shower.”

“Always with the quips,” says Shinobi. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you, Warren—you’re direct, but still polite.”

“The clock is ticking, Shinobi,” says Warren.

“I came here for protection,” says Shinobi. “My life is in danger.”

“And I care because…?”

“My father is trying to have me killed!” exclaims Shinobi.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you try to kill him?” asks Warren. “If you ask me, this is karma.”

“You don’t understand,” says Shinobi. “He’s trying to reassemble the Hellfire Club into a force to be reckoned with, like they were in the old days. You remember what the Hellfire Club was like at full strength, right?”

“All too well…” mutters Warren. His mind flashes back to years ago, when he was much younger. Sebastian Shaw, Emma Frost, and Mastermind, all through the Hellfire Club, corrupted the Phoenix Force and were instrumental in the creation of Dark Phoenix, who went on to wipe out the D’Bari star system, killing billions.

“His ambitions are a bit loftier this time around,” says Shinobi. “Lately, Shaw Industries has been acquiring a number of industrial complexes and companies.”

“And?” asks Warren.

“Think!” exclaims Shinobi. “What is Shaw Industries famous for building?”

“Aside from a bad reputation?”

“Sentinels,” replies Shinobi. “My father is building Sentinels.”

“This is nothing new,” says Warren. “In fact, Shaw Industries was still in the Sentinel business when you were in charge.”

“Do you really believe I’m that stupid?” asks Shinobi. “I may not hold a lot of stock in morals or ethics, but I know a big risk when I see one. I’m a mutant, Warren. Sentinels kill mutants. I held onto the Sentinel contracts, yes, but I cut a lot of corners during my production runs of them. Most of them were simply the same as Mark I Sentinels, with just a slimmer look. But Sebastian… he’s improving on not only the Mark I models, but also later variations, including the Prime Sentinels used in ZERO Tolerance. He has contracts with various countries to provide them with this ever-evolving Sentinel technology. This is a risk you, quite frankly, can’t afford.”

“And how do you factor into all this?” asks Warren.

“He wants me dead,” replies Shinobi. “Ever since he came back from what I thought was an obvious death, he’s merely tolerated my continued existence. And now, it’s gotten to the point where he realizes he doesn’t need me anymore. I’ve become a loose end and I know too much. So he’s trying to have me killed. I need your help, Warren. I need the X-Men’s help.”

“Stay here,” says Warren. He stands from his desk and walks to the office door. “I’m going to make a few calls, I’ll be back shortly.”

Warren exits the room and Shinobi can hear the lock sliding into place.

X-Corps HQ; New Mexico

“Well… this is a first,” says Pete Wisdom. He sits in front of a communications console, hands interlocked behind his head, feet resting on the console. Bishop stands behind him, arms crossed over his chest. On the monitor screen before them is the image of Warren Worthington.

“I thought our only connection to you was supposed to be through Campbell,” says Bishop.

“It was,” replies Warren. “But this is an important matter that I felt you two should be the first to know.”

“Out with it, then,” says Wisdom. He reaches for the pack of cigarettes that sit in his shirt pocket. “I haven’t all day, Worthington.”

“Wait, is your line secure?” asks Bishop.

“It’s my private line.”

“Is. It. Secure?” Bishop repeats.

“Ugh… yes, it’s secure,” says Warren. “What do you take me for, Bishop, some kind of amateur? I don’t set up a secret black ops organization without covering my ass.”

“Alright, now let’s hear the story,” says Wisdom.

“Shinobi Shaw came to see me today, says his father is trying to kill him. From what he’s told me, his father has been buying up various industrial corporations and he’s developing new Sentinel technology, improving on the old Sentinel tech as well as the Prime Sentinel designs. Apparently, he’s also working at building up the Hellfire Club again.”

“What do you want us to do about it?” asks Wisdom.

“Investigate Sebastian Shaw, obviously,” replies Warren. “Infiltrate his organization, see what you can discover.”

“How do you expect us to do that?” asks Wisdom. “We haven’t got any shape-shifters in our ranks.”

“Actually… that’s not entirely accurate…” says Bishop.

“What do you mean?” asks Wisdom.

“Skin,” replies Bishop.

“Espinosa?” asks Wisdom. “He’s no shape-shifter.”

“He could be,” says Bishop. “Since his time with the X-Men, he’s made incredible progress with his powers. He could manipulate his skin into taking on another form.”

“But that still leaves other problems like hair, skin color, and height,” says Warren.

“We could work around those things,” says Bishop. “We’re on this, Worthington.”

“Okay, I trust you guys. But in the meantime, what do I do with Shinobi? After the stunt he pulled to find me, it won’t be long before Sebastian finds out where he is.”

“We’ll put him up in a safehouse,” says Wisdom. “I’ll send Savant and Kurt to pick him up.”

“Nightcrawler still has issues with Savant after their last mission,” says Bishop. “Replace Savant with Psylocke.”

“Kurt and his bleeding conscience…” mutters Wisdom. “Fine, we’ll send Betsy with him then. We’ll keep you posted, Worthington, got some other calls to make.”

X-Corps HQ; Muir Isle

“That’s the gist of it,” says Havok. He sits in what was once the office of Moira MacTaggert, with Skin standing before him.

“How can I do this?” asks Skin.

“Angelo, you’ve demonstrated a great deal of proficiency with your powers as of late,” replies Havok. “Before Bishop and Wisdom assigned you to X-Corps Europe, I was given an opportunity to review your file. I read the evaluation reports compiled by Sean and Emma, as well as the ones compiled by Scott, Jean, and Hank. Your skill with your powers is improving, and this is the time to put them to the test.”

“Alex, I’ve never done anything like this before,” says Skin. “An’ I’m no actor. What if I lose control over my skin on the mission? Or what if I slip up?”

“That’s a risk we have to take,” says Havok. “You remember your last encounter with the Sentinels, right?”

Angelo’s memory goes back to Graydon Creed’s attempt to use Prime Sentinels to exterminate mutants. It was what brought him out of his retirement from mutant affairs and sparked his recruitment into the X-Men.

“Si,” he says.

“Then I hope you also realize how crucial it is that we find out exactly what it is Shaw is doing, and what these Sentinels he’s using are.”

“I do,” says Skin.

“Good,” says Havok. He picks up a manila folder sitting on his desk and hands it to Skin. Angelo opens in it, and inside he sees surveillance photographs of a bald, middle-aged man and several sheets of information.

“This man is Jacob Zurit,” says Havok. “He’s on the board of directors for Shaw Industries. Your mission will be to capture him and take his place.”

“Dios… how did you get this info so fast?” asks Skin.

“We’ve been planning this op for a little over a week, ever since we first gathered intel from Shaw’s son, Shinobi,” replies Havok. “You have Fantomex to thank for a majority of the intel. Fixx also had her faeries gain info from Zurit’s brain. Go see her once you leave here and his knowledge will be yours.”

“You sure this is gonna work?” asks Skin.

“It has to,” replies Havok. “Take the photographs, look over the information, and start trying to get the look down. You have twenty-four hours.”

Location Undisclosed

He doesn’t know how long he has been here. His cell is pitch black, and the shackles clamped around his wrists are chained to the wall. Food comes through a small slot once every other day. He knows how he got here, though. His name is Kyle Gibney, or Wildchild as he’s known to his teammates. He and the rest of X-Corps Australia assaulted a Black Womb facility in New Guinea. He was cornered by a Black Womb higher-up (or so he assumes) and his pet Neo, a woman named Static who blocked his powers.

Now, his powers have returned to him. His healing factor is able to compensate for some of the lack of nourishment, but it isn’t enough. He needs food, he needs to build his strength back up. Most importantly though, he needs to try and find a way to escape. He isn’t sure if X-Corps will come for him or not. As far as they know, he could very well be dead.

He hears a slight noise. For him, that is new. The cell is very thick, and he can rarely hear anything unless he strains his ears. Now though, he hears something. The sound grows louder and he watches in shock as his cell door seems to peel itself in half. Standing in the doorway is a man with various pieces of armor on his body. By his side is a woman with long, brown hair. Two people he hasn’t seen in quite some time.

“Is this real…?” asks Wildchild.

“It’s okay, Kyle,” says Madison Jeffries. The shackles on Wildchild’s hands snap open and Diamond Lil helps the former Alpha Flight member to his feet.

“What is this…?” asks Wildchild. “Is Alpha here?”

“Just us,” replies Diamond Lil.

“How did you know…?” asks Wildchild.

“To be honest, we didn’t,” replies Jeffries. “We actually came here for someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“Aurora’s in here somewhere as well,” says Jeffries. “And we have a job to do.”