Valerie Cooper sat in her office, a tumbler with ice, gin, and a splash of dry vermouth resting in her hand. She looked down at her desk, her eyes fixed on a folder labeled X-FACTOR INITIATIVE with the word CLASSIFIED stamped on the cover.

And then, the door burst open.

“Just what the hell is going on here, Val?”

Val looked up at her new guest. The young woman’s attractive features were now a mask of anger, with long green hair spilling down her back and her eyes crackling with magnetic energy. But Val wasn’t the least bit worried. Instead, she just gestured to the empty chairs in front of her desk.

“Good to see you, Lorna. Have a seat.” Val raised her own glass. “Care for a martini?”

“It’s been months, Val. Months since X-Factor was disbanded,” said Lorna Dane, remaining standing. “So tell me, why did I get a call this morning demanding I report here immediately?”

Val closed her eyes and took a sip of her drink. “The new X-Factor Initiative has prompted some…changes in the way the team is structured. The Department of Mutant Affairs is largely concerned with mutant civil rights and it’s been determined that a mutant strike team doesn’t fall within that purview.”

“What are you saying?” asked Lorna.

“I’m in charge of the DMA, so now I have no authority over X-Factor.”

“Then what the hell am I even doing here?” asked Lorna. “Who am I supposed to report to if not you?”

“That would be me.”

Lorna spun at the sound of the third voice. She gasped when she saw the mangled face of the man who stood in the doorway behind her. He offered a hand and when he smiled, it sent a chill down her spine.

“Ms. Dane, or do you prefer Polaris?” he asked. “Malcolm Colcord, Department of Homeland Security.”

Lorna stared at his hand for a few moments before cautiously shaking it. “Homeland Security? What does X-Factor have to do with you?”

“Well, it actually makes quite a bit of sense if you think about it,” said Colcord. “X-Factor is the government’s response to threats related to mutants. Currently, the greatest threat that falls in that category is mutant terrorism. Specifically, we’re talking about one group—the X-Men.”

Lorna scoffed and folded her arms. “You’re joking, right? The X-Men are heroes, they’ve even got the backing of Senator Kelly.”

“Wrong X-Men,” said Val, chiming in as she refilled her glass.

Lorna looked over her shoulder. “Are you drunk?”

“Getting there.”

“Dr. Cooper does have a point,” said Colcord. “The issue isn’t the X-Men operating out of Westchester. It’s the terrorist group formed by your ex-boyfriend. You’ve heard, haven’t you?”

“Of course I’ve heard,” said Lorna. “I have no idea what’s going on with Alex. But if you think—”

“Relax, our intel tells us that Summers is no longer with them. The team has gone through some changes. Now they’re under the command of noted mutant terrorist Pete Wisdom.”

He reached inside his suit coat and took out a palm computer, holding it out for Lorna to review.

“Your team.”

Lorna took the device and activated it. The device contained dossiers on each mutant Colcord had recruited for his new X-Factor, and her eyes were widened. She handed it back to him.

“No deal. I do this with my team or I don’t do it at all.”

“Your ‘team’ no longer exists,” said Colcord. “Most of it had fallen apart towards the end. Madrox, Carosella, and Sinclair were never sanctioned recruits, Forge has returned to the X-Men, Red Lotus left for Hong Kong, the Shroud was last spotted in Los Angeles, Shard is with her brother, and who even gives a shit what happened to Mongoose.”

“Have you looked at the backgrounds of these people? Most of them are criminals.”

“Yes, and I know how morally opposed you X-types are to working with criminals,” said Colcord. “What they are, Ms. Dane, is expendable. Wisdom is a far more dangerous threat than you might realize. And though Havok’s team was dangerous, this new group Wisdom has assembled is even worse. So we can’t take any chances. We fight fire with fire.”

“Give me one good reason why I should participate,” said Lorna.

“Alex Summers,” said Colcord. “I’m sure you heard about his ‘Come to Jesus’ moment.”

“I did, which means he has nothing to do with Wisdom’s team.”

“Except for the fact that he’s dead—and Wisdom’s team is responsible.”

Lorna froze and she blinked a few times. “What?”

ALPHA & OMEGA

Part III

By Dino Pollard

After accepting Colcord’s offer, Polaris barely said another word. She was silent on the entire trip to the training facility where the new X-Factor was busy training. They traveled by helicopter, and lowered down on a helipad on the roof of the facility.

Colcord led Polaris inside. They passed through a few levels and he explained some of the features of the facility, but Lorna couldn’t care less. She didn’t trust Colcord, but she wanted to get this over with and figure out the truth about what happened to Alex.

“And here we are.” Colcord pushed a button on a set of automatic doors and they parted to reveal an observation booth. Control panels lined the round room and the foot itself was translucent, allowing full view of the large training room below.

“Caliban I believe you know,” said Colcord, pointing at the large, bestial mutant with chalk-gray skin. “Very little about him you probably recognize. More beast than man these days.”

“And of course you brought Random onboard,” said Polaris with disdain, staring at the mutant bounty hunter, his arms converted into giant cannons that he used to blast the room’s defenses.

“Can counteract mutant abilities and his only allegiance is to the man with the deepest pockets. And Uncle Sam has some very deep pockets.” Colcord pointed at a strange being who had a bald head and fired energy blasts from his eyes. “This one is interesting. Gazer. Has the power to absorb and convert energy.”

“Member of the Clan Akkaba, a terrorist organization,” said Polaris, disgust tinging her voice.

“Sometimes it takes a terrorist to catch a terrorist.” Colcord looked to a man in a blue bodysuit with a thin mustache. “And here we have Timeshadow. Been kept prisoner for years until we gave him a way out. Can phase himself in and out of time. Could prove useful. Then there’s Jeanne Marie Beaubier.”

“Aurora. Thought she was with Alpha Flight?”

“Apparently not,” said Colcord. “Then there’s Frank Bohannan.”

“The Crimson Commando.” Polaris scoffed. “Another former terrorist.”

“Former soldier, actually.”

Polaris looked at the doorway and saw a statuesque woman in skintight white leather with long, blond hair staring at her with a smirk on her face.

“Major Bohannan is a war hero, Ms. Dane. We should grant him the respect he’s earned.”

“Frost.” The name came out of Polaris’ mouth like a snarl.

“No need to be so formal, dear. Emma is quite acceptable,” said Frost as she approached Polaris and Colcord.

“I’m going to need the two of you to play nice,” said Colcord. “There are more important things to worry about. Isn’t that right, Lorna?”

Polaris offered no response and that was all Colcord needed. “Excellent.” He walked over to the console and deactivated the training scenario. The team members all looked up at him. He pushed a button to activate the PA system. “Listen closely. We have intelligence showing that the X-Men are holed up in an abandoned apartment building in Detroit. The Omega Clan already faced these jokers and are still recuperating. So watch your backs. And remember, lethal force is not only authorized, it’s encouraged. Now get to the hangar.”

Colcord turned off the PA system and turned to Polaris. “You heard the order. Go meet your team.”

Polaris exchanged one more harsh glare with Emma and then left the control booth. Emma folded her arms, still staring at the doors long-after Polaris had passed through them.

“I have no idea why you brought her onboard,” said the former White Queen. “Dane is a white hat. She doesn’t have the spine for this kind of work.”

“Emma, Emma, Emma…think long-term for once,” said Colcord. “We have a nation full of dangerous mutants and the one calling the shots is perhaps the most dangerous mutant of all—Magneto. What better insurance than our own Mistress of Magnetism?”

Detroit 

“You’re full of shit, Wisdom,” hissed Dominic.

“So sure of yourself, are you Petros?” asked Pete Wisdom just before lighting a fresh cigarette. He took it from his lips and picked up the glass of scotch, taking a long sip from it. “So let’s see you do something about it.”

“Oh, I’m gonna do somethin’ about it, you limey bastard.” Dominic fixed a stare on Wisdom and reached out. He picked up a stack of chips and set them in the pile in the center of the table. “Raise.”

“Aww, fuck you, Dom!” spat John Allerdyce. The mutant called Pyro threw his two cards face-down on the table. He took his own pack of cigarettes and produced one, placing it between his lips. But when he flicked his Zippo lighter, the flame jumped to the edge of his cigarette. With a snap, John extinguished the flame. “I fold.”

Wisdom grinned at Dominic. “Okay, you goat-fucking bastard. You’ve got my attention. Call.” He picked up a stack of chips and slid them into the center.

Now all eyes turned to the fourth player. A woman who had snake-like skin and short, dark hair. She studied the pair of cards in her hand with intensity. Her eyes drifted from the cards to her pile of chips to the five community cards lying face-up in the center of the table, and the pot up grabs.

“Don’t got all day, Stacy,” said Dominic.

Wisdom leaned closer to her. “Y’know love, if this game’s too rich for your blood, there’s no shame in folding.”

Stacy frowned. “I…I guess I’ll stay. I mean, call. That’s the word, right?”

The three men at the table all chuckled and nodded. Stacy pushed her chips into the center, adding them to the pot.

“Okay, showtime.” Dominic threw down his two cards. “Three of a kind, bitch!”

Wisdom took a drag on his cigarette, trying not to laugh. Dominic looked down at his cards, then at Wisdom. “What?”

“Never try and play cards with an ex-spy, lad. You’ll just get burned.” Wisdom showed his hand, adding up to four cards all in the clubs suit.

Dominic grunted and picked up his beer, taking a long swig. Now, all eyes fell on Stacy once more. She scratched her head and leaned forward, looking uncertain.

“I dunno…but is this good at all?”

She dropped her two cards in the center of the table. The smirk instantly vanished from Wisdom’s face and the cigarette fell from his lips onto the wooden table.

“That’s a full house.”

“I see what it is, Allerdyce,” said Wisdom.

“Means she kicked yer ass, mate.”

Wisdom grunted and glared at John. “Thank you for pointing that out, lad.”

They heard a chuckle and the three men looked at Stacy. She’d already gotten out of her chair, gyrating her hips and swinging her arms in a victory dance. Once she finished, she pulled the chips towards her end of the table and started arranging them into piles.

“This ain’t yer first time playin’, is it?” asked Dominic.

Stacy smiled broadly.

On the top floor of the abandoned apartment building, Tessa Hartley sat in a room with several laptops and other equipment arranged on a table. She checked the monitors continuously, her computerized brain capable of processing information on a far greater scale than any human brain could possibly manage.

There was a knock at the door. Tessa invited them in. When the door opened, Calvin Rankin entered, carrying two bottles in his large, simian-like hands.

“Want a beer?”

“No, thank you.”

There was a couch near the table with a small stand at the end. Calvin left one bottle on the stand and pulled off the cap of the other, beginning to drink from it.

“What’re you up to?” he asked. “Thought you got us in some kinda surveillance dead zone.”

“I do. But if all communications signals just showed this one black triangle of inactivity, that might look suspicious,” said Tessa. “So I’m monitoring the signals. Making sure that they don’t see a black hole but just business as usual.”

“So making us invisible?” asked Calvin.

“Precisely.”

Cal looked across the room and saw a man in white hovering in the corner. He had a skull-like metal helmet concealing his head and his hands rested gently on his knees. “What’s he doing?”

“Xorn is meditating,” said Tessa.

Cal stood and walked over him, staring at his mysterious teammate with curiosity. He waved his hand in front of Xorn’s face a few times and then snapped his fingers. Blue light suddenly filtered through the eye slits in Xorn’s helmet.

“Please do not do that, Mr. Rankin.”

“Jesus fuck!” Cal jumped, freaked out by the sudden change, his beer bottle shattering on the ground. “You scared the shit outta me, man!”

“I apologize. It was not my intention.” Xorn looked around Calvin. “Tessa, how do things look?”

“Quite well,” said Tessa. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Good to know that.” Cal walked back over to the remaining beer bottle and popped off the cap. “Well…guess I’ll leave you to it.”

“He seemed odd,” said Tessa after Calvin was out of earshot.

“How do you mean?” asked Xorn.

“Something about his body language.”

Xorn looked in the direction Calvin had gone. The light beneath his helmet dimmed slightly. “Interesting.”

Fantomex stood on the roof of the building. He raised a pair of hi-tech binoculars to his eyes, using them to scan the cityscape. Night-vision, zoom capability, infrared, just about everything that one could need. He lowered the binoculars.

“All clear.”

A lithe figure with long, purple hair and dressed in a purple bodysuit with an X across the chest emerged from the shadows. The mark of the Crimson Dawn over Elisabeth Braddock’s left eye hummed with the power it used to generate the shadow portal.

“Same here,” she said.

“No psychic disturbances, Psylocke?”

Psylocke shook her head. “We seem to have escaped from the Omega Clan without too much difficulty. Although I’m still suspicious about how they found us.”

“Think we’ve got a traitor?” asked Fantomex.

“How would I know?” asked Psylocke. “Xorn doesn’t have a mind that can be read, all I get from him is a blinding light. Tessa is capable of reprogramming her mind and segmenting different parts of her memory depending on the ‘program’ she’s running. Mimic has some telepathic ability of his own—although nowhere near as advanced as mine.”

“Modest, I see,” said Fantomex.

Psylocke stared hard at the thief. “And then there’s you. A mercenary created by Weapon Plus whose mind cannot be read.”

“You could always try trusting me.” Fantomex stood and faced Psylocke, placing the binoculars into his coat.

“I trusted Alex,” she said. “You saw how that went.”

“What about Wisdom? You trust him, don’t you?”

Psylocke scoffed and snickered.

“Did I say something funny?”

“After X-Corps, Pete and I worked with the underground for a time, helping mutants find new lives. Do you know what he said to me right before we walked into that safehouse?”

Fantomex shook his head.

“He told me to trust no one. Not even him.”

Fantomex paused for a moment then arched his brow. “Charmer. I can see how you two ended up together.”

The two X-Men turned their attention back to the horizon. Neither one heard the masked figure drop silently onto the roof behind them. He grabbed Psylocke first, cupping a hand over her mouth as he pinched a cluster of nerves in her body, dropping her into an unconscious state.

Fantomex turned and raised his guns. But before he could fire, the mysterious assailant grabbed them by the barrels. The guns seemed to melt right before Fantomex’s eyes, traveling into the man’s arms and vanishing. His eyes hummed with power and Fantomex could have sworn he saw the man’s body grow larger.

A series of powerful punches took Fantomex out of the fight, ending with the assailant kicking him over the edge of the roof.

He approached the edge of the roof and affixed a rappel cable. Slowly, he traveled down the side of the building. Peering into one of the windows on the top floor, he saw Tessa and Xorn talking. Continuing down to the fourth floor, there were a series of sleeping bags laid out in a darkened unit.

Further down. Calvin Rankin sat alone on a couch, watching a football game. He glanced over his shoulder at the window, but by that time, the man had gone down to the second floor.

Through the second-floor window, the man saw Pyro, Avalanche, Wisdom, and Ecstasy playing poker.

Stacy Leevald.

Jackpot.

He swung from the cable and his feet burst through the window, raining shattered glass everywhere. The man unhooked the cable and flipped in the air, landing in a crouch. Wisdom came at him first, swinging an empty beer bottle. He grabbed the bottle with one hand, wrapping his other hand around Wisdom’s throat. As he absorbed the bottle into his body, his grip grew stronger and he hurled Wisdom against the wall.

“Sonnuva bitch!” shouted Pyro, flicking the Zippo lighter.

The trespasser grabbed the table, absorbing it into his body and then lunging at Pyro with increased speed, his powerful fist knocking the Australian mutant through an open door.

Powerful vibrations threw him to the ground. He looked up and saw Avalanche approaching. But just as he came in, the man swept Avalanche’s legs and dropped him onto his back. The attacker was up in an instant, driving his fist into Avalanche’s face.

Now there was only Ecstasy left.

“So, who sent you?” she asked. “Church of Humanity? Iron Hell? The government?”

He paused and relaxed, standing up straight. Raising his mask enough so she could see his face, he gave her a soft smile.

“Actually, your parents.”

Ecstasy froze, staring at him in confusion. “My…my what?”

“My name is Lockdown, I find people—for a price,” he said. “And your parents hired me to find you, Stacy Leevald.”

To be concluded…