Fic : Sinister 5/?
Storm was just beginning her descent through the tree line when a
stirring of the air forewarned her of danger. She had half turned
before something, someone, rammed her at tremendous speed. With a cry
she slammed into the canopy and became entangled there. Dazed, she
struggled to free herself of the branches all about her, calling a
strong gust to stop her fall. She rose to clear air only to have to
acrobatically avoid a branch the size of a small sapling being
wielded by a tall, muscular woman like a baseball bat. She watched in
fascination as the woman was thrown backward by a blast from Cyclops
below, stunned as the woman smacked into and through two tree tops
before righting herself and coming back for more. Lightening crackled
and missed as Storm fired and she evaded, coming around behind Storm
for another attack. Hands seized her hair and swung her savagely into
the tree from whence she had just come. Her cry of rage was matched
by the other woman's scream as this time, Storms lightning hit home.
The woman crashed to the ground, but didn't stay there. With a
disbelieving heart Storm watched as the woman simply uprooted the
tree she was tangled in and slammed it into the next, causing several
others to crash down upon her. The last thing Storm felt before
blackness took her was the feeling of being trapped as the branches
closed in all around her.
Storms initial cry of warning as she was attacked had galvanised
Cyclops into action, taking the first clear shot he had at the mutant
attacking Storm. That the blast took her through two trees and she
still came back for more shook him. He had hit her harder than he had
intended. Finding that fine balance in his control of getting the job
done without actually killing someone was precious to him. He knew
without a shadow of a doubt that was a line he did not wish to cross.
He gathered himself for a second stronger blast but had to re-sight
at the last minute as he was rushed by two leafy figures that simply
rose up from the ground before him. Vines swirled up around his
ankles, binding them in place and with a start he realised they were
part of the two mutants he faced. He hit them with a wide dispersal
beam that knocked them flying before using more precision to free his
feet. He backed away carefully as they came at him again, this time
too far apart for one shot. If he took out one at this range the
other would have him before he could fire again. He had just managed
to work himself into a good position when they simply stopped. With
sudden insight he tried to dive to one side, sensing the trap. It was
already too late. The chain mesh dropped from above like a great
fishing net, driving him to his knees. Before he could blast free he
arched in a violent spasm as electrical energy shot through him,
mouth open in a soundless scream.
Darkness all around, heavy and oppressive. Storms panic threatened to
engulf her as she opened her eyes. *It's happening again * her mind
shrieked. It took all of her prodigious calm to realise where she was
and the danger they were in. They. Cyclops. She gathered herself and
blasted her way free of the remains of the tree that had surrounded
her. Shaking debris and muck from her hair she surveyed the scene
about her. Of Cyclops there was no sign. She searched for the best
part of an hour before determining to return to the Blackbird to try
the more powerful equipment there.
Storms rush up the ramp was halted by the realisation that the ramp
was open in the first place. They had left the plane secured. More
carefully she ascended, in a fighting crouch and it was with great
relief that Rogue appeared at the top of the doorway.
"Thank the goddess," she muttered.
"Storm, you look dreadful," cried Rogue rushing forward to help
her. "Where's Cyclops?" she asked, stopping, suddenly aware he wasn't
Storm shook her head, "let's get inside. I'll explain everything to
all of you, but I'd rather do it only once."
"This is all of me," wailed Rogue and in a gush she spilled out the
whole nights' events as they had occurred.
"So Logan is taking Jean to this "boss"?" Storm said finally a little
Rogue nodded, "but where's Scott?"
Storm slumped in her seat and recounted what little she knew of what
had happened in the swamp. "After the first blast I did not have much
time to spare to determine what was happening on the ground. I
assumed that Scott was dealing with his own foes and no longer able
to assist. When I recovered there was no sign of him, or of what had
transpired besides some churned up ground. I can only hope that he is
well, but we must locate him and Jean both. Do you remember how to
operate the tracer system?"
"Then you begin that process, I'll contact the Professor. He must be
appraised of this."
Thirty minutes later they were preparing once again to venture into
"Think we'll do any better in daylight?" asked Rogue regarding the
dawn with scepticism.
" We have no choice I did not realise that I was unconscious for so
long. If the professor is right both Scott and Jean are in the centre
of that swamp area that we have not yet been able to penetrate. The
professor is unable to establish contact with them but assures me
they are both alive, if not conscious. Logan too is at the location."
"Guess we're the cavalry then," said Rogue sounding less than
Scott's mind groped its way to wakefulness and not a small amount of
residual pain. His kept his eyes firmly closed and his breathing even
while he tried to gauge where he was. His first and immediate concern
was to check his visor was still in place. His relief at finding it
so was tempered by the next realisation, that he was lying flat on
his back on a cold metallic surface and firmly pinioned by restraints
across his forehead, chest, wrists, thighs and ankles. In short he
could barely move a muscle and certainly not reach his visor to free
himself. He slowly opened his eyes, straining to take in his
surroundings in the periphery of his vision. Medical lab of some sort
he thought to himself. His uniform had been removed and he wore only
a light, greyish coloured pair of drawstring pants. He pushed against
the restraints again, testing them.
"Ah Mr Summers, you are awake."
The soft voice seemed to float at him out of the shadows outside his
"You know my name," he managed. "What's yours?" His throat felt
unbearably dry and his voice to his own years came out in a groggy
croak. The figure that strode into view was only vaguely recognisable
as the man who had earlier called himself Mr Essex. His skin was a
dull matt silver, his hair jet black with equally black eyes.
"Sinister is one name I have used in my long years. If you need to
put a name to me that is as good as any other I think. And yes, Scott
Summers, I know your name and more besides. It may startle you to
know that I observed you for a time after your gift materialised. I
was distracted by other matters at the time and lost track of you."
He punctuated his speech by attaching a series of probes and
electrodes to Scott's bare skin on forehead, chest and arms. At
Scott's renewed struggles he snorted. "Save your strength Mr Summers,
I have a great deal to accomplish here and I will not be pleased if
we have to delay while you over exert yourself." He inserted an IV in
Scott's arm, taking several blood samples before injecting him with a
"Just what do you think you're doing mister!" Scott ground out as
Sinister turned his back on him, moving to a powerful electron
Sinister straightened and regarded Scott. "I've searched for you for
a long time and this confirms my theory. Your DNA will form one of
two strands of a template I am working on that will ensure the future
of the mutant race and be my legacy. And my greatest weapon of
course," he added almost as an afterthought. "I have powerful
enemies. I'm sorry that there is not a more comfortable way to
achieve my ends, but the chemical composition tests I require can
only produce accurate results when great stress is placed on the
subject. The stimulants I have given you will heighten the sensations
further." He didn't sound particularly sorry to Scott. Sinister
turned and fiddled with another piece of equipment, inputting
commands into a computer console.
Scott jerked and gritted his teeth and a wave of painful sensations
washed over his body, sweat standing out on his pale skin as these
were joined by a welter of mental and emotional images that augmented
them. Sinister checked the heart and blood pressure monitors and
smiled in satisfaction. "Now we leave to simmer," he muttered, "while
I check on my other guest."
Jean woke to a stiff neck, slumped over as she was in a chair in a
room devoid of other furnishings. Gambit immediately rose from his
position on the floor to a more alert posture. Sinister smile as he
"Just in time it would seem. Welcome Dr Grey."
Jean rubbed the bridge of her nose as she studied her position. The
man before her was shielded against her probes or mental bolts that
much was clear at a glance. His telepathic ability seemed very
different somehow to her own and seemed skewed toward misdirection
rather than "pure" telepathy.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, keeping up the pretence
He shrugged, "I require your assistance in my work here. As a
forerunner in your field you should appreciate the project if not the
means of coming into it. Evolution of the mutant species my dear,
along with the creation of the most powerful mutant on the planet has
long been my life's goal. I am close to achieving that now thanks to
a very fortunate occurrence indeed. I need only to find a suitable
telepath to complete the work and with your access to mutant records
I'm sure you can assist me there too."
Jean froze, wondering if he had guessed or knew her own talent.
"In theory if you combine a powerful and renewable energy source with
the DNA of the telephatic gene in a mutant you create the perfect
offspring. One that of course can be moulded and raised to appreciate
my outlook on the world order, and place in it. I have just acquired
that long sought power source and you will use your medical skills to
assist me in his study. The recombination sequence of mixing the DNA
will determine all in this matter."
"So that's what this is all about," she muttered before she could
stop herself, growing angrier by the minute. "The mutants who have
been reported missing down here she added quickly your doing?"
Sinisters eyes narrowed. "Not widely reported my dear, my people are
very good. How then is it that you know of such disappearances?" He
pulled her roughly to her feet.
She realised there was nothing more to be gained in charade and shook
him off, slamming the approaching Gambit with a mental bolt that
knocked him out cold. *Wolverine * she sent urgently, *I need help
here now. *
Wolverine stiffened as her thought was cut off abruptly with a
lingering feeling of blackness. He surged to his feet, startling the
surrounding men and stormed toward the exit of the small room Gambit
had left them in.
"You can't go no where," one of them protested putting his arm out to
stop him. Wolverines rage, however, had kicked in the minute he
realised Jean was in serious trouble. The men in the room never stood
a chance as he tore through the locked door and rampaged toward the
centre of the complex.
Danvers hefted Jeans limp body and looked inquiringly at Sinister. He
looked thoughtfully at Gambit then motioned for the woman to bring
"There is more to Dr Grey than first appeared. Your timing is as ever
impeccable and we should now proceed with haste." He took a blood
sample from Jeans arm and studied it in a small side
lab. "Fascinating. I'll have to try recombination to be sure, but
this looks like the perfect match to our power source."
"Coincidence ?" asked Danvers flustered.
Sinister smiled without humour. "That I do not believe in. Pre
destiny perhaps, for if this is the match not even nature should be
able to keep them apart life will find a way I just plan to skip
the messy experimentation that goes with it and help it right along
to its natural conclusion."
He was interrupted by alarm bells ringing through the complex. "Find
out what it is," he snarled. "Deal with it. I'm too close for
interruptions now." He took Jean from Cargil and made his way to the
main lab. He rummaged in a freezer cabinet briefly before returning
with a hypo which he jabbed into Jeans arm. "I'm well prepared for
telepath my dear, for your kind are too unpredictable by far."
As Jean groggily awoke he strapped her arms firmly to the chair she
"What?" she muttered. Her head felt like it was packed in layers of
"Don't try to use your powers my dear," he muttered "the drug I have
given you severely inhibits your neural pathways and will last for
some time yet."
Jean took in her surroundings, slowly becoming more alert as long as
she didn't try to use her power. "Scott!" she whispered in horror.
Sinister looked at her sharply. "My, my will surprises never cease.
You already know each other."
He turned back to the bank of equipment he had been studying. "A
resilient young man," he said without emotion, "but resistance is
with its limitations." He jerked a dial around and Scott arched on
the lab table, a scream torn from his throat as he threshed.
"Stop it, you're killing him," Jean yelled.
Sinister leant down toward her, his hands resting on the arms of the
chair she was bound to. "No," he said flatly "that would not serve my
purpose. His pain does however." He turned back to his machines as a
thin trickle of blood ran from Scott's nose.
"The shields are down," said Storm urgently, her tracking device
suddenly alive in her hand. "We're right on top of it, literally" she
added as an afterthought looking around at her feet.
"What if it's a trap?" asked Rogue nervously.
Storm regarded the younger woman with some sympathy. "It may well
be," she said softly, "but we must help our friends and end this.
Here," she exclaimed, "a ventilation shaft." She looked puzzled. "It
had electronic anti intruder devices."
"Had?" queried Rogue.
"They do not appear to be working."
Far below they could both hear the sounds of shouting and explosions.
"It seems they may have other problems and are as yet unaware of us,"