X-Men: The (fan fic) Series

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X-Men: The (fan fic) Series
Episode #: 1X06
Title: The Trask at Hand

Summary: The X-Men are tasked with protecting Sentinel and Nimrod when Mystique makes herself known. Bobby and Kitty go to a local meeting of a group with ties to the mysterious Colonel Trask.
Rated TV-14 for intense action/violence.

Previously… on X-Men: The (fan fic) Series

—“The Professor does not want you going into any fights until you’re a legal adult, that’s what you agreed to.” – Scott

—“He’ll be expecting your call.” – Scott

—“It’s a tentative yes, as long as you promise not to take any unnecessary risks until you’ve had some proper self defense training.” – Xavier

—“We’ve got Duncan on the inside now.” – Scott

—“Bobby nearly died!” – Scott

—“Regardless of biology and semantics, both are threats to the security and safety of this country… and I’ll do anything in my power to stop them.” – Val Cooper

1X06 – The Trask at Hand – Teaser

The detective stood over a body, skin gone pale and clammy except the massive discoloration around the neck.

“Quick and painless,” the M.E. pointed to the bruised area, “someone knew exactly what they were doing, wrapped their arm around his neck and literally popped his head off its socket.”

“Ouch,” he said dryly. “I take we’re looking for someone with a lot of strength?”

“Definitely taller than the victim, though he’s about six-two, that should narrow it down,” the man said, pulling the blanket back over the body as it laid on the slab, “probably a man, but a strong woman or one who had the right leverage and torque could have done it.”

“Could it been accidental in any way?” his phone started to ring and he slid it out of his pocket.

“No,” the coroner shook his head as if he was only ninety percent sure, “but… this is too clean, no defensive wounds, didn’t even grab for the attacker, almost says professional to me.”

“One sec,” the detective spoke into the phone before turning back to the coroner, “thanks man, send me a copy of the report when you’re done.”

“As always,” the M.E. gave him a mock salute and started to push the body into the freezer.

“Yeah, go,” the detective nodded as he listened to his partner on the other end, “I’ll be right there.”

Minutes later, the detective walked in the A.V. room of the police station. “You said you had something?”

“Surveillance from the motel,” the other detective was sipping on a cup of coffee, tapping at the keyboard, “doesn’t cover his room but we have a clear image of the parking lot.”

They watched as the victim’s car parked at the motel. The camera feed was decent, the detective’s could even make out his Virginia license plate. The dead man walking got out of the driver’s seat as a lady in a cocktail dress with long blonde hair exited the other side. He came around the front of the car and she leaned into his arm as they headed out of camera range, assumedly going to his room.

“Interesting,” this opened a whole lot of options.

“Get’s more interesting,” his partner tapped the keys and sped it up, “not but five minutes later…”

The woman in the black dress came back into view, straightening her dress as she walked down the sidewalk, past the man’s car, and out of view, presumably going to the street.

“That kinda tracks,” the detective said, “there were no unidentified prints in the car or the room. The vic had his coat off, tie half undone…” he trailed off as he started putting more together, “no sexual activity, money and cards weren’t taken. It’s a professional hit.”

“A professional hit that looks like a professional hit,” the other man frowned, “you only do that if you have a message you want to send. This guy is some middle class computer tech, no ties to anyone important or famous. Find anything on his financials?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “steady paycheck from M-TAM, steady bills,” then it clicked, “and anyway there’s no way this woman killed him. The coroner said the killer had to be taller than the vic, so unless she got up on a chair or something…”

“Maybe she’s a go between? No,” he answered his own question, “everything points to the vic picking the motel and she’s gone within five minutes. It seems awfully complicated, unless the coroner was wrong about the time of death.”

“Autopsy confirms his initial findings,” the detective leaned back in his chair, “the man was dead upon entering that room, give or take a few minutes. I suppose it could work if they were followed… but again, motive, method… what kind of message where they sending?”

“We’re just missing a piece of the puzzle is all,” his partner gave him a slap on the back, “so, you want to be the one to go through the man’s home again or do you want to canvas the cabs, see if anyone picked up our femme fatale?”

He thought for a second, “I’ll take the cabs, I could use the exercise.”

“Good exercise that,” the two men turned their heads to see an older gentleman in a suit walk in, flanked by another man in a polo with a gun and shield on his belt, “but a complete waste of time.”

“And you are?” the detective asked.

The suited man pulled a badge holder from his breast pocket, “Special Agent Fred Duncan, FBI.”

He gave the ID a good once over, “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

“Trust me, detective,” he slipped the badge back into his jacket, “I’m doing you a favor. You’d reach more dead ends than you’d know what to do with on this case.”

“Nice backhanded insult there,” he shook his head in disgust and turned to the man in the polo, “Captain?”

“Out of my hands,” the police captain said gruffly, “the commissioner said just let them have it.”

He kept shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe it, sure, they were stuck for motive but once they got more leads they would be able to figure it out. His partner was a little more gracious, or at least fishing, “The woman, she a professional hitman?”

The agent gave a little frown, “In a manner of speaking.”

…

“Alright,” the M.E. sighed after finishing his read through of the paper work. “I’ll get him wrapped up for take out.”

“Thank you,” she said evenly and gestured to the two men with her, they followed the coroner farther into the morgue to help in retrieving the body and any evidence.

Homeland Security Assistant Director Valerie Cooper checked her phone which showed several messages and emails. She was just sending a reply when Agent Duncan came walking down the hallway.

“I almost felt like a bully,” he frowned, shuffling the papers in his hands which included a CD.

“Summers strong armed you onto the team,” she mumbled, typing up another quick email, “probably thinks we do nothing but sit around thinking about how to best ruin his day when a lot of our job is simply damage control, cleaning up after their messes,” she glanced up, “it was Raven Darkholme, correct?”

“Used her known blonde form,” he showed her a photo from the top of the file, “and she had to know the camera was there, strutted right in front of it.”

Val sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “All of the scientists and techs on that team were given thorough safety briefings which included not going to hotels with women, or men, they only just met.”

“How did she even know he was working on the Sentinel project?” he said quietly, well aware of not wanting to be eavesdropped on.

“I already have a team looking into that,” she said wryly, “but regardless, we have to assume she knows at least some of the others on the Sentinel team. Now the project is going to have to move operations again, replacing pretty much the whole team.”

“It’s going to delay the program,” he didn’t sound all broken up about it.

“And give them a chance to steal the Nimrod lattice again,” she shook her head.

“They ever get that thing fixed?” Duncan asked easily.

“Nice try,” she gave him a sarcastic smile.

“Oh well,” he gave an unabashed shrug, “worth a shot.”

Based off Marvel Comics’ X-Men© created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby,
with Chris Claremont.

Adapted for Television by JayCee

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