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1X08 – Scarlet – Act IV
“Scarlet?” Pietro was suddenly behind his sister, looking at her first before his eyes followed hers, and then he saw it, “Damn.”
Lined up, two against one wall, two on the opposite, was four tanks of clear-blue liquid. Inside the tanks floated a single individual with a rebreather in their mouth and other tubing attached to their bodies.
“Mutants,” Wanda found her voice as they got closer to the tanks.
“Most likely,” Pietro frowned, reading the control panels attached to the tanks, “but never underestimate the propensity for humans to do such horrors on their own kind.”
“Of course,” she placed her hand on one of the glass tanks, “simply give them a reason to dehumanize you and it doesn’t matter if your blood runs red.”
“They’re sedated,” her brother started to hit buttons and a few whirring sounds filled the room, “but it doesn’t look they are specifically tied to the machines. We should be able to cycle the tank and just pull them out.”
“They’ll still need doctors,” she commented as he moved to the next tank.
“We have several nearby who are sympathetic to the Brotherhood,” the next tank began to cycle after having tapped his ear piece, “Avalanche, Pyro, Rogue, you all copy.”
“Yeah,” said Rogue followed by a, “Yep,” from Pyro.
“Looks like they have been experimenting on mutant DNA by harvesting it direct from the source,” he said bluntly as he moved to the next tank, “Avalanche, head down, we’ll need your help carrying them out.”
“On my way,” the Greek said.
“Watch out for the guard,” Rogue warned.
“I’ll go help with that,” Wanda added, nodding to her brother before moving out of the room into the main lab area where Rogue was getting up from the computer.
“How bad is it?” the Southerner asked.
“We’ve seen worse,” Wanda frowned and started towards the doors.
“Right,” Rogue echoed her frown and started to head across the room to the storage area.
Wanda was only a few feet from the door when she felt it, another ripple that was a general warning, and all she could was shout, “Rogue, down!”
The door to the lab opened and two canisters rolled in, bouncing with a ting off the cheaply tiled floor. Having been out in the open, Wanda didn’t have any cover, only barely enough warning to get as far away from the flash bang as possible.
The dual concussion blast hit her and sent her spiraling to the floor.
…
In the office above, Avalanche had already left Pyro and the Bella-Agra employee to go to the sub-basement.
“Did you know about the mutants being held downstairs?” the Aussie asked the employee with a little more than complete impatience.
“Mutants?” Joe blinked, “What, like a Ninja Turtle?”
“Do I look like a ninja and/or a turtle?” Pyro frowned.
“Ah, no,” Joe frowned.
The lights went out and were immediately replaced by red emergency flood lights.
Pyro glanced up, “Yeah, that’s not good.”
…
Avalanche was heading down the hallway when the lights changed. He could hear the thud of several feet running down the hall towards him. His instinct was to take out the floor, but his teammates were down there, he couldn’t risk entombing them, or straight up crushing them.
Turning and running back down the hallway, he needed a plan.
…
The room was a little smoky and her ears were ringing, but Rogue managed to heed Wanda’s warning quickly enough to dive behind one of the tables to avoid the concussion blast.
Shaking it off, she got on her haunches and looked around the edge of the table. Wanda was lying on the floor, moving, but only slightly. She had taken the brunt of the blast and while Rogue was sure her friend would be ‘lucky enough’ to avoid major injury, that didn’t negate the fact she still got hit with a blunt force.
“Wanda!” Pietro shouted and she saw him zip to his sister’s side, completely ignoring the fact that men were already entering the room.
Two of the men were dressed in combat fatigues like security guards, but they did not bear the Iron Castle logo. The other one was in a white lab coat.
Rogue started to slip her gloves off, ready to go into action, when the unexpected happen.
…
Wanda needed a moment to get her breath back and she’d be fine. Already her baby brother was hovering over her.
“You hurt?” he helped her to lay on her side.
“I’ll be fine,” she answered, she didn’t feel anything was broken and there was a ninety-eight point seven percent chance she would have no ill effects from the effect of the blast wave.
“Pietro,” she noticed the men and barely had a chance to say her brother’s name before one of the guards zipped forward and took her twin by surprise.
Pietro went flying across the floor from the impact, the speed-powered guard chasing after, landing another strike which caused the Romanian to be driven into the wall and crumble to the ground.
“We already have a speed power set,” the scientist looking man said with a tsk, “oh well, perhaps he’ll have a useful variation.”
Wanda looked at him, an abject look of horror on her face, “You’re a mutant.”
“Mutant is such an ugly word, I don’t even know why anyone uses it,” the scientist smiled down at her, “I personally prefer, oh, what did he call it,” he paused for a second, “homo-superior, that’s right, because that is what we are, the superior being.”
“Homo-superior,” she swallowed hard, there was only one person she knew who was overly fond of that word, “are you working for Magneto?”
“Magneto?” the scientist laughed, “don’t be absurd. No, I take my orders from someone with entirely much more… class.”
…
“Avalanche,” the man heard Pyro shout into his ear, “I lost communications with everyone, you there?”
The Greek was ducked bucked behind a jut in the wall where a load bearing pillar was, hiding from men with assault rifles who were looking for him, “There are guards everywhere,” he said quietly, “Where did they come from?”
“I don’t know,” Pyro shot back frustrated, “the entire mainframe just locked down, trying to access it but it’s giving me fits.”
“One moment,” Dom closed his eyes and stomped on the floor sending out a minor shockwave that he amplified with his abilities and used as a sonic radar, getting an idea of where everyone was and the layout of the building.
“The team is still down below,” he told Pyro once he finished comprehending what he saw, “with three others, at least one is a mutant,” he managed to catch a glimpse of one of them speeding around but the man was too short to be Pietro.
“Wait, so the X-Men?” Pyro asked, “How did they get here?”
“No,” Dom frowned, “I don’t think it is them.”
“Okay, I’m really confused,” his voice confirmed this.
“Find a way past security,” Dom told the man, “I’m going to find a way down there without crushing the sub-basement.”
…
“You’re experimenting on your own kind,” Wanda said disgustingly as she tried to stand, the scientist lording over her as his guards were moving around, looking for the third member of the group, Rogue.
“Yes,” he said unabashed and she could see his name tag read Doctor Rowland, “who else would I experiment on? Certainly not homo-sapiens, they are completely useless, genetically wise,” he paused, “and really, in general.”
“Why,” she shook her head, “why do this?”
“We may be the superior beings, but many of us are far from perfect,” Rowland reached down and grabbed Wanda by her throat, picking her up with ungodly strength so she dangled a few feet from the ground. His grip wasn’t so tight she couldn’t breathe and she grasped his forearm to take some of the weight off her neck, “many truly are mutants, flukes, a mess of underperforming DNA.”
“Das Herrenvolk,” she managed to utter.
“We’re looking for the master race indeed,” Rowland grinned, “but then you would know all about that, wouldn’t you,” he looked her critically, “Eastern European, accent says Romanian, though your eyes, they say German. I’m sorry my dear,” he chuckled, “but you would have been condemned to the ovens in a heartbeat and you would burn.”
She wouldn’t dignify his words with a response beyond a disgusted glare.
“What is your ability, I wonder,” he gave her a cursory examination, “not a useful one it seems.”
“Rogue, no!” she shouted. “Left!”
…
Rogue had been sneaking around the side, trying to avoid the two guards and make her way to the scientist who was holding Wanda hostage. She was just about to go right and hopefully come up behind him, when she heard the woman shout for her to go left instead.
Trusting her friend, Rogue did as she said and immediately turned to her left and started to run, but she became visible and the guards chased after her. She was struck in her side by the speed mutant and slung against the wall with a thud and groan.
Getting her feet under her, she turned around just in time to see the other guard, a large barrel of a man, rush up on her, fists out and ready to do some damage.
Rogue put her fists up in a combat stance, she’d taken on the likes of Wolverine, this guy wouldn’t be a problem… however, in the back of her mind, she couldn’t fathom why Wanda would send her into a situation that was much less favorable than the one she was already in.
The guard threw a punch forward and Rogue dodged down and to the left, letting the man strike the wall with his apparent enormous strength.
Then that’s when things… happened…
…
The guard struck the concrete wall creating a fissure which traveled up to the ceiling.
Dom was cornered in the hallway by guards with machine guns and had no choice but send a crack down the center of the floor, making them go off balance.
The crack in the floor continued down the hallway and split into two lines, one veering off and meeting up with the fissure created down below.
“I don’t want the A/C system!” Pyro yelled at the computer, banging the keyboard in frustration which caused the system to turn on every unit at once.
The air ducts above the lab rattled violently as they came on, the shock vibrating against the already damaged wall and ceiling, causing the fissures to expand and spread off in several directions.
One of the support beams gave way, collapsing onto the computer servers in the back of the room with a violent crash.
The servers being damaged caused an overload in the electrical grid and surges everywhere accompanied by pops and hissings.
A fire broke out at one of the lab desks whose computer blew from the surge.
Smoke quickly rose and set off the fire sprinklers which were already precariously attached to the damaged ceiling. They put out the fire as they drenched the room, rousing Pietro from his unconscious state.
But the violence of the water going through the pipes caused them to break free in some places, tugging at the cracks in the ceiling.
More beams started to fall, crashing down on the lab benches, destroying the work that was there.
The speed mutant tried to run but was knocked by a falling beam and sent sprawling to the floor.
Rogue quickly grabbed the other guard and put him out cold once she was able to tear her eyes away from the events that were unfolding.
Another beam broke away from the ceiling on one end and flew to the side, right at Rowland and Wanda.
Rowland dropped Wanda and dodged backwards, stumbling as he did so, right into a shelving unit that went down under his weight.
Wanda didn’t even move, knowing the beam would pass in front of her with at least a foot of clearance.
The scientist was entangled in the shelving unit, his guards were incapacitated, and his work was destroyed in a matter of seconds.
Wanda approached Rowland who was more shocked than anything as he lay in a crumpled mess on the fallen shelf, broken glass from the items that had been on it scattered everywhere.
“What…?” he looked up at the woman in the blood red jacket that perfectly matched her stained lips and the streaks in her hair, “how…?”
“I’m a witch,” she told him cruelly, spraying her arms mockingly, “burn me.”
…
The last thing Pietro remembered was Wanda getting knocked down, then another speed mutant attacking him. He woke up to find the room falling to pieces around his sister as she stood calmly at the apparent mercy of a man in a lab coat.
One of these days he’d remember she could bloody well take care of herself.
He reached her side just in time to hear her declaration to the man who had clearly gotten on her bad side, it was a story he would have to hear later, but in the mean time, there was the mutants in the holding tanks, and the scientist himself to deal with.
“Rogue,” he gestured to the man, he wanted her to absorb him so they could both find out what he was up to and make sure he wouldn’t impede their escape.
“Right,” the woman started to make her way towards the scientist.
The man rubbed his face which was covered in sweat and then gave them a sneer, “Death is a far kinder option.”
“No!” Pietro shouted and got to the man before Rogue could, but it was too late, already whatever poison he had put in his mouth was working its deadly deed.
The man, Rowland, convulsed for a few moments and foamed at the mouth, then it was done, the light went from his eyes.
“Why…” Wanda whispered.
There were several answers Pietro could think of them… none of which any of them wanted to hear.
…
A little while later, the Acolytes had taken care of the guards and loaded up the mutants into the back of one of the Bella-Agra vans. Rogue was driving, Wanda in the seat beside her, while Pyro and Dom trailed behind in Rogue’s Taurus, the two mutant guards tied up and knocked out in the back seat.
“I should have seen it coming,” Wanda mumbled as she looked out the window.
“Even Irene doesn’t see everything,” Rogue easily argued, “and she’s like the best prognostic on the planet.”
“But I’m not a prognostic,” Wanda turned and looked at her, “I sense probabilities, I should have seen that there was a high probability he… would…”
“Wouldn’t be the first time you missed it,” Rogue kept her eyes on the road.
Wanda’s face fell, “Right, sorry, I didn’t think…”
“Sokay,” the Southerner shrugged, “but the point is, you destroyed that horrible man’s lab, wiped out all his data except for what Pyro was able to pull, which will hopefully lead us to whoever his boss is, and we saved four mutants… so what if the world has one less sicko, call it a win.”
“Every life is sacred, Rogue,” she told her, “even the sickos.”
“Well, he didn’t seem to believe that way,” Rogue replied quickly, “and he did it to himself. Don’t let his choices have any weight, you gave him a chance, that was more than he deserved.”
The woman gave a light sigh and went back to looking out the window, “I am remembering why I left.”
“Why did you come back anyway?” she asked curiously.
“I made a promise,” Wanda answered simply, “a long time ago.”
…
The Acolytes entered their residence quiet early the next day, about two in the morning actually.
Pietro turned to address them, “Rogue is ditching the Bella-Agra van,” he mentioned the only missing member, “and that’s it, mission complete. We have doctors looking at the rescued mutants and Magneto will take care of the two guards.”
“What will happen to them,” Wanda asked.
“Probably find themselves in a holding cell for a very long time,” he replied dryly, “but until we get any further leads from the information we gathered, we call this one closed, everyone did great.”
Pyro raised his hand childishly before speaking, “Bella-Agra was only one of the questionable things we pulled from the Homeland database.”
“I know,” Pietro nodded, “a few missions were parceled out to others more suited to the situation, and we’ll have another one soon enough. Right now, enjoy the holiday.”
“I am going to enjoy a shower,” Dom said before heading up the stairs.
“Think I’ll have a cup before crashing,” Pyro turned towards the kitchen area.
“A long bath does sound good,” Wanda admitted and started towards the stairs.
“Wanda,” Pietro stopped her, his voice a little quiet to make sure Pyro couldn’t hear them from across the room, “I’m sorry about the Scarlet thing. If you want to be known as the Scarlet Witch, then that is your call.”
She offered him a smile, “Thank you, Quicksilver, for understanding.”
“I’m saying I accept it, I’m not saying I understand it,” he admitted, “we were raised Roma, words like Gypsy and Witch were thrown at us as dehumanizing insults.”
“Thrown about by people like Rowland,” she nodded, a touch of sadness in her eyes, “but I am proud of who I am, Roma, Mutant, Witch… our grandparents, and their parents, bore the mark of the Jew or the Romani when they were sent to the camps, to the ovens, and they never let themselves believe they were anything less than human, no matter what happened.”
Pietro considered his sister’s words before settling on the fact that while he might not truly understand where she was coming from, he understood enough. He would always be proud of who and what he was, nothing would ever change that.
“I can stay, for Thanksgiving,” he eventually said by way of ending the discussion, “we could even go see father if you like.”
Another small smile graced her lips, “It is the first day of Hanukkah, I have a feeling he won’t even be in the country.”
Realization dawned on him, “Of course, but then why did you…?”
“I found out about Crystal, didn’t I?” her smile turned into a little grin and Pietro should have known he was being played, “Go, enjoy yourself, but be careful.”
“I will,” he assured her, “I will.”
…
Pyro made his tea, something to unwind with so he could get some decent sleep before he had to be up again. He could see Pietro and Wanda talking to each other in his peripherals and let it be.
After a few moments, Pietro sped away and Wanda went to walk up to her room.
“Wanda,” he quickly grabbed the second mug that was lying on the counter and headed over to the woman who stopped on the second step of the stairwell, “I was making me some tea, thought you might like one.”
She smiled curiously at him as she took the mug, inhaling the sent, letting out a little sigh, “Chamomile and Lavender, that’s perfect, just the thing.”
“Just as easy to make two,” he offered, trying not to sound like a complete dork.
“Thank you, Pyro,” she gave him a friendly smile before starting to head back up, then pausing, “are you still going to cook lamb tomorrow, uh, today?”
“That’s the plan,” he chuckled, “and probably a small turkey too,” he rolled his eyes, “you know how Rogue can be.”
“Indeed,” Wanda laughed, then started to walk up the steps, “I look forward to it, goodnight, Pyro.”
“Goodnight,” he replied, trying not to completely stare as she went to her room.
Once she was gone, he went back to his own cup of tea before it got cold. He picked it up and turned to see Rogue’s frowning face, he hadn’t heard her come in.
“Just say something to her,” she told him.
Pyro took a sip of his tea as he formulated a response, “When one shows their feelings through actions, rather than words, they are truer to their emotions. This, however, doesn’t make the object of their affection any more the wiser to the truth before them. But one day they will, and only then, for good or bad, will they be able accept what has always been in front of them.”
“Keats?” Rogue asked, her brow furrowed as she tried to place the quote.
“Martyr,” he gestured to one of the Mavendore books lying on the counter, then with another sip of his tea, he walked away.
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