BLACK POWER

By Brent Lambert

“Everybody get down! Black Power is in da house!” a large black man exclaimed as he shot what looked like electricity out of his hands. The electricity hit the nearby security guards and on impact their body parts glowed bright red. Unexpectedly, the glowing chunks of body fell away as if they were ash. Screams came from the men and women who saw what had just happened; an old grandmother had to cover her child’s eyes from the sight. The dismembered men fell to the ground letting out blood curdling screams – at least the ones who still had mouths.

“Y’all ladies and gents gotta forgive Red Light. He jus’ gets overanxious sometimes,” a skinny, bearded black man said as he came crashing down through the roof of the airport.

“I was just having a little fun, Mosiah. No harm, no foul,” Red Light said with a shrug. Suddenly he fell to the ground, clasping his chest. Mosiah was using his mutant ability to make Red Light’s stomach push out acid overtime. It gave him acid burn like he had never felt before.

“Lives are not things to be played with. Understood?” Mosiah asked angrily.

“Of course,” a man with black eyes and flaming black hair said from behind his leader snidely.

“‘Bout time you showed up, Black Sun. Where is Haman?”

“Right here,” an Ethiopian-looking man said as he descended down through the roof of the airport building. He was wearing a white body suit that came up to his neck. Across the man’s face were numerous black tattoos in the shape of stars and knives.

Showing his devilish smile, Mosiah said, “Time to get this show on a roll then. Okay, let me make this clear, people. All the black folks can head on out of this building. The rest of you can stick around. We got some fun stuff to do!”

All of the black people – and the ones that could pass for it – grabbed their children and whatever belongings they could and jetted for the exits. Everyone else just watched on in horror. The running was so frantic and crazed. It was such an insane madness that one old European man decided to take his chanced and run. He didn’t get long before Haman moved at lightning speeds in front of him.

“Going somewhere? I don’t think so,” the dark-skinned man smiled as he touched the chest of the old man. The bones of that man transmuted themselves into sulfuric acid and burned through his flesh like a knife through hot butter. Haman had control over his very molecules and those of others. Add to that his super-speed and he was not one to be underestimated.

“Too bad you got to him first. I would have liked to kill him,” Red Light grunted. He could release what looked like electrical arcs from his fingertips. The arcs were really beams that burnt away the molecular structure of anything it touched.

“Your obsession with death is disturbing,” Black Sun said as stepped outside of the airport through a set of automatic doors. Black fire suddenly exploded from his head and surrounded the building in a shield of flames. No one would be able to enter the flames, and any flesh contact would result in the person’s soul being drained. No type of energy signal could break through it because it would only dissipate. It would take a genius of unparallel ability to get through his dome.

Stepping back into the airport, Black Sun dusted off his hands and looked at Mosiah. “It is done.”

“Good. Now all we have to do is make a few phone calls.”

Val Cooper looked across her desk at the current leader of X-Factor, Forge. At least, he was the leader for now. Polaris was the official leader, but she was off in Michigan with Fatale on a special mission. So now Val was having to assign this mission to Forge and the remaining members of X-Factor.

“We have a situation at the Dallas airport. A group of mutant terrorists calling themselves Black Power have taken the airport hostage. All the African Americans were released from the airport, strangely enough. Though things get a lot stranger – they’re demanding some pretty outrageous things,” Val said, tossing a list of the mutant’s complaints across her to desk to the American Indian shaman.

“Slave reparations for all blacks in country. Stolen land being returned to descendants of slaves. Black politicians given higher positions of power. More government money going into ghettos and urban schools. Government money to help black families trace the history which was stolen from them. These demands aren’t as outrageous as you made them seem Val,” Forge said, putting down the paper.

“Oh come on! You know that none of these things can be worked out, especially in 8 hours!” Val almost laughed, unbelieving of Forge’s attitude.

“I know what it’s like to go through your whole life feeling like you’ve been treated unfairly. I’m not only a mutant, but I’m also a Cheyenne Indian. My people have been done wrong by this country for centuries and it continues to this day. Most of my friends and family reside on reservations in piss-poor conditions. Some of them can barely afford a pair of diapers let alone a car. I completely understand where Black Power is coming from. Do I endorse their actions? No. But I do understand,” Forge finished with a sigh.

“Okay, fine. Point blank your opinions don’t matter at the moment. You’re going to take the team to Dallas and handle this problem. Make sure to handle it with as little mess as possible,” Val said, her eyes narrowing as if she was trying to burn a hole through Forge.

“Always, Val.” Forge smiled curtly as he rose from his seat and walked out of the room.

Red Lotus sat back in his seat and propped his feet up right behind Shard’s head. Pretending like he was blowing a puff of smoke into the air he said, “This is the life. Too bad we can’t stay on this plane longer.”

“Remove your feet now or I’ll break them,” Shard growled as she read a gun magazine. The weapons of this time were primitive compared to her own, but she didn’t mind reading magazines about them. It was almost like reading about ancient relics.

“Pfft. Like you could take me,” Red Lotus laughed. His mutant ability pretty much made him one of the fiercest fighters on the planet. At the age of twelve he innately gained the ability to understand and perform every form of fighting that had ever existed on the planet. From the days of ancient Egypt, the rise and fall of Rome, and all the way until now. All those fighting techniques and styles were locked in his mind. Shard was hardly a challenge for him.

“Whoever said anything about hand-to-hand? I’d just blow a hole in your head,” Shard replied as she turned around to stare at the former Triad assassin.

“Alright. Sheesh!”

Taking his feet from behind her pleased Shard, so she turned around and continued to read her gun magazine.

“So much love in this little group of ours,” Elena Boon, also known as Ms. Witch, commented.

“Stay sharp, people! We’re about there,” Forge said as he prepared to land the aircraft that the members of X-Factor had playfully dubbed ‘The Suicide Rider’.

“What is that black fire surrounding the airport?” Vargas asked as he looked out of the window and saw an enormous amount of flames covering the entirety of the Dallas airport.

Ms. Witch grabbed her white shirt as she looked at the black fire. Quickly turning her green eyes away from it she said, “It’s mystical in nature. I can feel it.”

“Aren’t mystics your field, Forge?” Shard asked, remembering how Genesis spoke of his early days as a shaman. Those abilities were what had kept him alive for so long in her future, which was about eighty years hence.

“Indeed it is my field, but those flames aren’t entirely mystic. There is a dose of good old mutation in there. I can feel it as well,” Forge said, looking over at Ms. Witch. They both shared a common bond when it came to their mystical natures. Elena, though, was far more limited in her skills than Forge. She was working on improving everyday, and in fact the woman was creating weapons that could help support her on coming missions. Val wasn’t exactly a believer when it came to the mystics, but she knew that Elena was too valuable of a member to be skeptical around.

“Can you break through it? That’s the question of the day, mi amigo.”

“Vargas is right. If we can’t break through the barrier then there is no point in even attempting any type of rescue operation.”

“I can do it. I can break that barrier,” Ms. Witch said, looking at both Vargas and Shard.

“You could, but it would take most if not all of your energy to do it,” Forge reminded.

“Does it really matter? As long as we freakin’ get in that airport!”

Knowing that Red Lotus’s words were truth, Forge nodded and gave Ms. Witch his approval. Slowly the woman’s eyes went black and red energy arced from all over her body. At that moment, ‘The Suicide Rider’ landed in the landing field of the airport. The landing jarred X-Factor a bit, but the sight of Elena was far more jarring. Her body was quaking wildly and it looked almost as if her skin was crawling.

“Sheesh, I know that can’t be healthy,” Red Lotus said in a mixture of disgust and fright.

“But it got the job done,” Vargas called out from outside the plane as he saw the black flames dissipate.

“Now’s the time people! Let’s move!” Forge said, jumping out of the plane and totally ignoring the steps. He took off in a run towards the airport. Shard repeated his actions and followed closely behind him. Vargas was going to wait for Red Lotus, but quickly changed his mind. No telling what Shard and Forge might have to face while in that airport. Red Lotus of course wasn’t nearly as concerned as the rest of his teammates were since he came down the steps and not in a very fast pace.

“About time you got here,” Forge scolded as Red Lotus walked up behind him. He was surveying the airport as were Shard and Vargas.

“I didn’t see any need for rushing,” Red Lotus joked.

“Perhaps you might see things my way once I tell Val to send you back to the Triads. She’s a good friend of mine, after all,” Forge threatened. He wasn’t in the mood for Red Lotus’ jokes. How the man was a Triad assassin baffled Forge to no end. It made absolutely no sense. Inventive genius couldn’t help Forge to solve that puzzle.

“Alright, man. Ease up! No need to go freakin’ ballistic,” Red Lotus implored.

“Who are you and what do you want here?” a voice called out. Looking back, Red Lotus saw black flames approaching both him and Forge. Quickly, he pushed Forge to the ground and rolled out of the way of the flames. Staring upward, he saw a light-skinned black man with black flames for hair. Red Lotus was reminded of the fires his father made for him when he was little; those days had long passed and the world was far more serious.

“We’re X-Factor. You don’t need to know anything more,” Forge said as he threw a ring-shaped silver object at Black Sun. The ring attached itself to the right cheek of the Black Power member. Instantly the man froze up and fell to the ground with his eyes wide open.

“What the heck did you do to him?” Red Lotus asked as he pulled off a smashed french fry from the back of his black pants.

“I shut his nervous system down. He’s still conscious, but the only thing he can do is blink. The effects of the device only last for an hour, so we need to get moving,” Forge said as he put two more of the same silver rings in his bionic hand.

“Yes sir!” Red Lotus replied, giving a mock salute.

“You see anyone yet?” Shard asked Vargas as she continuously scanned the surroundings of the airport. They hadn’t seen anyone as of yet.

“I haven’t seen, but I have heard muffled cries in the distant,” Vargas said, pointing to the east.

“Just as I hear the muffled cries of my people,” a bearded man said as he stepped out of the shadows.

Pulling out his large sword, Vargas pointed it at the man. “One of the Black Power lot, I assume.”

“You assume right. I’m Mosiah. Leave now and I might spare your lives,” Mosiah said as he held two guns in each hand.

“I was just about to make the same offer to you,” Shard smiled.

“Difficult ones, I see,” Mosiah laughed. In a matter of seconds, Vargas fell to the ground screaming in agonizing pain. The leader of Black Power had sent every one of Vargas’s synapses alit with pain. Shard had not been affected and Mosiah could not explain why.

“I don’t feel pain,” Shard said coldly as she blasted Mosiah straight in the chest, knocking him out. At that moment, Vargas’s pain ended and he fell into unconsciousness. The pain had been too great for him, even for someone who could handle as much as he.

“You hurt Mosiah, lady. You got us to deal with now,” a gruff voice called out from behind the former XSE agent.

Turning around, Shard found herself up against the last two members of Black Power. Red Light and Haman were both eager to finish off whoever had taken down Mosiah. Unfortunately for them, they would never have the chance. Two flying objects struck both mutants in the backs of their necks. They were the rings that Forge had used to take down Black Sun.

“Heh. Vargas is going to be pissed that he was the only one who got hurt on this mission,” Red Lotus laughed.

“Don’t forget Miss Witch.”

“She’s an exception,” Red Lotus said to Shard as he lifted Vargas over his shoulder.

“Let’s find the hostages and end this situation,” Forge said, his voice sounding tired. Taking down Black Power had been easy enough, but he couldn’t help feeling that this wasn’t as sound a victory. Something about defeating Black Power made him feel like he was defeating something more. Something that wasn’t wrong.

“Hope Fatale and Polaris are having more fun than us,” Red Lotus huffed as he struggled to carry the weight of Vargas.

“Oh yeah! Tracking down mutant serial killers is soooo much fun,” Shard responded sarcastically.

“Looks like we came too little too late,” Fatale said as she looked down at the dead body of the very serial killer they were suppose to be tracking. They had found the man out in a barn laying face down in the hay. He had been stabbed in the neck by what looked like a machete. A gruesome killing to say the least. Ironically, the mutant had died the way he lived – brutally.

“What’s that over there?” Polaris asked, pointing at a shining gold medallion not too far away from the forty-something man’s body. Walking over carefully, she picked up the gold medallion. Attached to it was a letter. The name on the front of it made her drop the medallion altogether.

“Don’t tell me a little letter scared you did it? Maybe you ain’t as tough as I thought,” Fatale grinned as she picked up the gold medallion. Her name was plastered on the face of the folded letter. With a trembling hand, the teleporting assassin opened up the letter.

Dearest Fatale,

It has been far too long since we’ve had a chance to talk. Do know I will be paying you a visit very soon, and I’ll have some new friends to bring along with me. Lots and lots of new friends! I hope you don’t mind having to share some attention with your new playmates. Oh, and don’t worry about your little friend here. I made sure to get a couple of good screams out of him before he died.

Love Always,

McCoy

“What does it say?”

Lorna knew that something was wrong with Fatale. Her green skin had nearly turned white as she read the note meant for her. There could only be one person who would be able to strike such fear in Fatale. Only one.

“McCoy says hello,” Fatale said angrily as she ripped the letter into tiny pieces. She wasn’t going to have Dark Beast control her life. Trapped in slavery would not be how she spent the rest of her life. Her very soul absolutely refused to let her live that way. Fatale had always wondered if she even had a soul since she was merely a creation of Dark Beast. Now she knew because fear like she had felt while reading that letter could only strike those with souls. McCoy was out there. And he wanted her.