Minefields Part Three

The Greyhound bus stopped with a burst of air. The door opened into the bright, hot New Mexico air. Tobias Maxwell stepped from the bus, adjusting his black boonie hat to guard against the sun’s rays. He had nothing with him but his wits, and he set out to find Rogue. Yesterday he had felt something. Asleep in that infirmary bed wrapped in bandages he had felt something. He knew Rogue was here, somewhere in this arid wasteland. And he aimed to find her.

He walked from the bus through the streets of Roswell, NM. He was close and he knew it. He turned from the bus stop and went down an alley. As he walked past a black dumpster he saw them. Three boys carrying swords and dressed in cloaks and hoods stood before him. The first held a katana, the second two broadswords, and the third a huge claymore. They grinned evil smiles at him. They all spoke in unison.

"You have come for the Rogue. We will take you to her." They rushed Toby, their swords slicing through the hot air. Toby backed against a wall and sank into a shadow as the claymore embedded itself in the brick where his head had been. His shadow grabbed the blade and swung it back, knocking its owner in the face with the hilt. Toby stepped from the shadow and swung the claymore into his hand. He balanced it over his head with one hand.

"Who’s next?" he said. The katana wielder stepped forward and arced his blade. Toby’s claymore deflected it with ease, tearing a wide swath through the air. The twin-bladed attacker sliced downward from above his head. Grasping the claymore like a staff, Toby parried the attack and sent a kick straight to his attacker’s groin. He knocked the katana out of the other’s boy hands and then hit him square on the nose with the claymore. The three swordsmen incapacitated, Toby turned to leave when he saw a glint of Rogue’s white bangs behind him. He whirled and saw a girl who looked just like her. But something wasn’t right. The girl smiled at him and so he took the bait. Dropping his weapon he ran to her. The Rogue look-alike took her glove off and grabbed him under the chin, lifting him into the air. He struggled for breath and energy as his powers were sucked away.

"Rogue. . .-what-" he hang limp as consciousness was pulled from him. The look-alike tossed him to the ground. The three swordsmen stood up and revealed their faces. Each had white bangs like Rogue. The four clones laughed as the black helicopter flew overhead. It landed softly in a yard across from the alley. The man in the suit walked out of the helicopter, the rotor wash blowing his suit and tie around him. He smiled proudly at the catch.

"Well done, my children. Load him on board." The four did as they were told.

*****

Colonel Moss smoked his cigar with his eyes closed. He sat waiting in the dark for Professor Xavier. His office at the Pentagon was housed underground in the Special Operations Command section, South Wing. He turned slowly in his chair to view the Professor as he rolled in through the door. Colonel Moss rose and put out his cigar. His long, dark trenchcoat covered his blue shirt and black tie, customary uniform of US Air Force officers. His stone face turned to a slight grin as he greeted the man in the wheelchair.

"Professor Xavier, welcome to my parlor. I am Colonel Gregor Moss, head of Air Force Special Operations. For what I’ve told you already, Soviet spies have been executed and imprisoned for years. I trust you will use this information wisely." Colonel Moss sat down in his leather chair and faced the Professor across the oak desk, lined with papers and toy military vehicles.

"Colonel Moss, I honestly do not know what I am doing here. I told my school that I was going to an administrative conference, and I would like to know for what you and the Air Force want me." He looked with concern as the colonel started to laugh softly.

"Don’t play with me, Professor. We know you run that ‘school’ to recruit new mutants and harness their powers for honest and benefitting purposes. I know all their names, their classes, where they live, I even know what color lipstick each of the girls wear. Let’s both cut the bullshit, okay? Here’s the reason you have been called upon by your government." Colonel Moss pushed a button on his desk and a large screen appeared from behind a painting of George S. Patton. The screen showed a map of the Southwestern United States, a region in New Mexico in particular. A red series of circles radiated outward from a point in Southeast New Mexico, near the city of Roswell.

"What is this?" said the Professor. The Colonel coughed and straightened his voice.

"This is a SOSUS central command field report of a psychic energy disruption that occurred yesterday, approximately at 10:00 A.M. Its origin is this spot, about five miles from the city limits of Roswell, NM. The site is an abandoned research base, codenamed Hangar 84, more commonly known as Black Mesa." The screen changed to show a large black pyramid situated in the desert. The Professor spoke up before Moss could continue.

"This seems familiar. I remember feeling an odd psychic disturbance yesterday. I was unable, though, to trace it." Colonel Moss looked at him as he lit another cigar.

"Right, I figured that. Now, Black Mesa was a government base used to research secret weapons back in the Cold War. It was shutdown back in 1996 with all the defense cuts. The last project it was working on before termination," he paused for moment to change pictures, this one showing rows of vats with bodies inside, "was the potential use of mutant powers on the battlefield." The Professor was in shock. "When the Supreme Court passed the Anti-Discrimination Act of 1996 it brought about the end of this project, since the DoD could no longer perform it legally. This man," he said as he switched the image to that of the man in the suit, "is Doctor Adrian Smith, the last man in charge of Operation Monolith. He resigned his position shortly after the termination of the project. He disappeared off of the NSA/CIA net about two years ago, his last known position being in Roswell, NM." Moss took a large puff of his cigar. The Professor’s huge mind was full of this new data and he tried to comprehend it all.

"How could any of this occur? I thought mutants have been protected from persecution since the late 1980's." The Professor’s remarks incurred the Colonel to shake his head.

"Not back then. Dr. Smith was able to perform most of the project in secret from any whistle blowers anyway. The fact is that he was doing experiments not only unconstitutional but also illegal. He escaped prosecution only though his resignation. Now, this is enough of the good news." The Professor’s eyebrows hiked up an inch. The screen split into four separate sections, each with its own image. The first was a satellite photo of a truck convoy moving through the desert. The second photo was a grainy image of who appeared to be Dr. Smith directing one of the truck drivers through a gate. The third and fourth images each depicted large groups of people standing in straight lines and marching. Moss took another puff of his cigar and began to speak again.

"These photos were taken one month ago by a CIA informant working on a separate case. Our photo specialists have confirmed this man to be Dr. Smith. And these trucks have been following the abandoned government highway back to Black Mesa. These photos are confirmation of what we’ve suspected for about two months now. We have sufficient reason to believe that Dr. Smith has restarted Operation Monolith. And these," he added, pointing to the other pictures, "are his stormtroopers." The photos showed row after row of warriors, ranging from young to old, dressed in the same black, skintight uniforms. Each warrior’s hair was styled the same way, shoulder length auburn with white bangs. The Professor was especially intrigued by this.

"Each one," he said, "has hair just like Rogue. They all look like they could be her twins." Colonel Moss pressed a button and the screen shifted a single image of Rogue, dressed in black and stepping out of a black Lincoln Navigator.

"This woman?" he said. "Our same informant got a picture of her as well. From what he reported, he lost track of her just as the local air field reported an unknown radar blip pass over the city. Its bearing was Black Mesa." Colonel Moss shut off the screen and rested his elbows on the desk in front of him. His face was very stern and his cigar’s smoke rose over his head in pale wisps. "Do you understand what this means, Charles? Dr. Smith is going to try and raise an army of mutants, somehow linked to this Rogue, and use them to do God-knows-what. He could try and conquer the whole damn planet and I can tell you, with this power he could come pretty close." Moss picked his cigar up and gave it a few large puffs as the Professor spoke.

"I need to find Rogue. She is the key to this puzzle and has been missing from her home for many days now. I will do whatever it takes to get her back." Moss returned his serious gaze.

"I know, Charles, and so would I. Rogue is involved in it somehow, it explains why they all look just like her. What is more intriguing to me, though, is how Smith was able to engineer his own mutations. These are not natural mutants, they are grown in vats. Technically no more human than a pacemaker or artificial heart. He has cloned this Rogue and somehow harnessed genetic powers to give them mutations. It is all very far fetched but there is no question. He is dangerous and must be stopped. A crack team of Special Operations Commandos is at your disposal, Professor, to deal with this problem. Let me warn you," he added as he leaned close to the Professor, "not one of your mutants has ever heard of Black Mesa, has ever been anywhere near it, and especially does not know what Special Operations Command is, okay? This is a very serious risk for the government to take. But without your guidance it will surely fail. Your country is counting on you, Charles." Moss extinguished his cigar and rose from his chair. The Professor followed him out of his office.

"I will do anything to get Rogue back," he said. "Anything to get this world back to normal. This man, Smith, is a maniac and a tyrant. He must be stopped." The Professor was led to an elevator by an armed guard as Moss continued down a hallway. The Colonel stopped and turned back to the Professor.

"Let’s just hope we’re not both too late." With that the two men departed.

*****

The fist hit Toby square in the jaw, sending his head reeling against the wall. His body was anchored to it by a series of metal clamps around his arms, legs, and neck. Each clamp was fed energy by a pulsating green energy box. The energy, Toby had realized after the first few punches and his attempts to escape, somehow negated his mutant powers. He didn’t have time to care as another fist slammed into his mouth. He reeled in pain and whimpered as blood dripped freely from his battered face. His eyes were swollen shut and he had trouble breathing. Through his pounding headache he made out a voice that addressed his attackers.

"That’s enough for now, children. Now, return to the main hall. I wish to speak with this one alone." The attackers followed the voice’s instructions and left the room. Toby could not see anyone but could feel the presence of someone else in the room. A hand closed around his throat and began to squeeze.

"That’s it," said the voice, "beg for air. You want it and I can give it to you. You are mine, Adam. I don’t know how you escaped in the first place but I assure you, it will never happen again." Toby struggled to breathe as the hand closed tightly over his windpipe. Just as he felt his lungs strain the hand released him. Toby gasped for air as the voice continued its monologue.

"Adam, why did you run from here? This is your home and I am your father. You shouldn’t disappoint your parents, Adam." Toby couldn’t stand it any longer and forced words through his battered mouth.

"My name isn’t Adam, its Toby." He took a gasp of air as the hand pushed his forehead into the wall.

"How dare you talk to your father like this!" The voice screamed in Toby’s face. "I created you and I can destroy you!" Toby’s lips quivered and he dribbled blood down his chin. The man in the suit backed away from his face and turned to the intercom system. He hung his head as he spoke into it.

"Initiate Operation Genesis. Proceed as planned." His voice caused a huge door to open across the hall from Toby. The boy in black lifted his head to view the white light that spilled into the room. It fell with a heated pang upon his skin and his eyes burned as he looked into it. Out of the white light came a huge block of steel. Her body was held in place by the same clasps as Toby’s, and Rogue’s head was hung low. Toby’s eyes grew wide with horror and despair.

"What have you done to her?" he said, his voice full of dread. The man in the suit held Rogue’s unconscious head up with his gloved hand. He grinned an evil smile at Toby.

"She is ready to lead the new world. And you are going to die so that she may live." The voice’s laughter echoed throughout the chamber.

Aster Anucarr