Bathed in the golden light of dawn, sifting through the cityscape spread out before him, Special Agent Henkel stared out of the fifteenth floor window as he sipped is coffee. His new appointment as a R.A.I.D. collaborative had greatly improved his view. Since their meeting with Birkshire both he and his partner had received private offices a perk the Chicago Director wasn't too impressed with but he had little say in the matter. The recommendation for the joint operation had come straight from the top and his department had no choice but to provide the two agents access to whatever resources they required to assist them in their war against the meta-humans.

"So when you get near a meta, you what? Switch them off?" Posed Henkel as he turned around and walked back to his desk.



Sitting before the highly polished bureau with a posture that would rival that of a marine, was agent Lance Garret of the R.A.I.D. REG-MET Division.

"Yes, sir." Garret answered, "My mutation suppresses meta-abilities."

"All of them?"

"All, except those abilities that are due to increased muscle density or other permanent physical mutations." Explained Garret.

Henkel placed his cup on coaster and eased down into his large, plush leather chair. "So, if say, some guy is stronger than normal, you can't turn that off?"

"If their strength comes from their muscles, then, no."

Henkel nodded, satisfied. He wanted to make sure he completely understood the ability of the registered meta-human agent and the fact that he couldn't suppress a permanent physical trait made sense. He could, however, eliminate those with powers difficult to defend against which would make their job a whole lot easier. Henkel's thoughts immediately turned to Tim Rutherford and his associate the Chameleon. Agent Garret could eliminate her ability to change and nullify the Cowboy's time stopping, unfortunately he couldn't yet let the young agent in on his investigation. He didn't want, Birkshire catching wind of Rutherford; not just yet, and so with the REG-MET agent they would concentrate specifically on Apex Fusion and other renegade meta's like Amazon, Wraith and Seizure.



There was knock on the door and Jameson walked in while reading a report. He acknowledged, Garret with a cursory nod then dropped the piece paper in front of Henkel. "Here's that list you wanted."

Henkel slid the document before him and quickly perused the names of mutants that had the ability to change their appearances and also those who could move incredibly fast or even stop time.

"Good work, Rick. Nice to see you're putting your new privileges to good work." Said Henkel. He was referring to both of their access to the R.A.I.D. databases, allowing them to obtain information on meta's that the F.B.I. didn't even know about.

Jameson nodded as he crunched into a half eaten apple in his other hand, then flopped down in the other spare chair beside Garret. There was obviously no love lost between the two, and aside from his subtle greeting, Jameson made no other efforts to communicate with the meta-human. Registered or not, all agent Lance Garret was to him was a meta and the less time he had to spend with the guy, the better.

"I'm still betting it was the Cowboy." Stated Jameson.

Henkel shook his head in disagreement, then swung his monitor around for Garret to see. On it a movie played. A security camera recording of a dark alley had captured the assault of a man, but the attack had happened so quickly that the video had to be slowed down to see it clearly. One moment a man was standing around, smoking and the next he was gone, but once it was slowed one could see a streak strike the man and carry him away in the blink of an eye.

"So what do you think, Garret?" Asked Henkel.

The R.A.I.D. agent had read their report on the meta-human criminal, Cowboy and knew that he was suspected of being a time-stopper, but upon his review of the recording believed that whoever abducted the man was moving fast enough to warp time, but had not stopped it. "It's definitely someone who is very fast."

"I agree." Said Henkel, smiling triumphantly at his partner, "And this is who I believe it is."

Henkel struck a few keys on his keyboard and profile came up on the screen for a one, Lance Strauss, a.k.a., the Highwayman.

"The man's James Boyd." Henkel told Garret, and he stated to brief him on their recent discoveries, "Five days ago his body was found in the river and we managed to retrace his steps and place his disappearance around a downtown casino. The man had a few poker chips in his pocket which lead us to the place of his disappearance. The recoding is of a back alley where some of the guests sneak out for a smoke.

"James Boyd was one of the engineers for the new nuclear plant, Zion III, which is scheduled to go online in a few days. Seems he also loved to gamble. Apparently his luck ran out that night."

The phone rang, and seeing that it was the secretary picked it up. "There's an agent Romanolf Chikinsky from Russian International Affairs on the line, Mr. Henkel." she told him.

"Thanks. Put me through." Henkel requested.

Henkel signaled his two associates that he was going to have to take the call but motioned with his hand for them to stay seated. He cordially greeted Chikinsky and after they exchanged a few words, the Russian got to the point and mentioned that he was interested in obtaining any information for the known fugitive meta, called Chameleon.

"The Chameleon?" Repeated Henkel as his eyes flashed to his partner, who was also surprised at the coincidence. "Agent Chikinsy, would you mind if I placed you on speaker? I would like to include my two associates in on our conversation."

The Russian agent didn't see a problem with the conference and so Henkel went on to explain their current investigation surrounding, James Boyd. At first Romanolf didn't understand the significance but then it became clear where Henkel was going when he mentioned that James Boyd had been dead for at least two days when he showed up at the Zion III nuclear plant. Witnesses informed detectives that he had shown up to inspect his work one last time then left with hardly a word to any of his old colleagues.

"I suspect, Agent Chikinsky, that the Chameleon may have been behind this charade." Henkel told the agent. He then paused for a moment and reconsidered informing the Russian that he suspected that she might be in Texas for fear of tipping off Agent Garret. "Perhaps, we can work together on this and pool our resources. We may be facing an act of terrorism involving a nuclear reactor and any help that you can give us would be greatly appreciated."

After taking some pain-killing drugs, some haphazard stitching from Scavenger and hot shower, Grey was ready for some sleep. He closed his eyes and was just getting settled when he was awoken by a loud bang that caused the motel room door to shudder. Immediately, Scavenger had sprung to his feet, walked over and checked the spy hole.

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed, then quickly opened the door and stepped back.

Filling the doorway was an enormous man that had to duck under the door frame when he entered. He was easily seven feet tall and was powerfully muscled. His long, flowing white hair floated as he walked into the room and sat down on the chest of drawers across from the beds.

"Mr. Fusion." Greeted Scavenger nervously, "What can we do for you?"

Fusion? It then became apparent to Grey that the giant man was Apex Fusion, the leader of the gang he was being initiated into. He was every bit as powerful looking as he imagined, but he was hardly dressed the part. He had on a predominantly green plaid shirt, faded blue jeans and cowboy-style boots.

Apex looked at Scavenger but did not respond. He just stared at him coldly with his white eyes and submissively, Stefan backed away and sat down on his bed without another word. The giant man, then folded his arms and turned to Grey.

"Well done, Grey." Said Apex in his Australian accent, "Taking out the legendary, Damien Vallens was no small matter. I'm in your debt, but I have to ask you to extend the credit. Both of you are in now and for your first assignment, I need both you to infiltrate the new nuclear reactor, Zion III."

Apex reached into his breast pocket, took out a small vial containing a blue elixir and tossed it to Grey.

"In your hands, Grey represents ten years of research, the contents of which are no more useful than colored water but in short time will become more expensive than heroine. Wonder why? I'll tell ya. Many years ago I funded the research that developed a signal that would cause a mutation in Humans, but leave Meta-humans unaffected. The mutation would cause deformities, but that serum can reverse the effects, unfortunately it has to be taken regularly.

"In the city I have positioned three towers in heavily populated areas that will broadcast and maintain the pulse wave, but an extremely powerful source of energy is required to jump start the signal. Once it starts, the towers will maintain it but to initially produce the wave we need to draw the energy from Zion III, the newest reactor and the most powerful of its kind.

"What I need you to do, Grey is to get into the plant and use your ability to destabilize the reactor for long as you can. This will allow the Highwayman to plant the transceivers necessary to generate the pulse. A simple task if you do not melt the core of the reactor then Chicago will be at our mercy. People will either receive the serum under my terms or choose to leave, but Chicago is just the beginning. I will make more towers and spread West and with your help we can literally control the world.

"What do you say, Grey? Will you help me? Will you help UMBRA's cause?"

Nicolia , posing as Romanolf Chikinsky, stood across the street from the Federal Office building in Chicago and lisened on his cell phone, as Agent Henkle voiced his suspicions. "Da verhaps vecould meet and as you say share information? My government und I vuld greatly appreciate your assistance in apprehending dis inividual Yelena, dat you call "Da Camelleon". She iz one of most wanted criminals in my country." Nicolia paused then said "You may reach me at ze Raffaello Hotel Suite 1177. You are familiar with dis place da?"

Agent Jameson was writing down the address as it was said and placed it on the desk in front of his partner. He also wrote down the name, 'Yelena'. No one had ever been able to acquire identity of the shape-shifter and this contact seemed very promising.

"I know the place." Said Henkel, "I'll see you in one hour. I look forward to working with you agent Chikinsky."

Henkel hung up the phone, picked up the piece paper and leaned forward on his desk in thought. He looked at his partner, to the R.A.I.D. agent, then back to Jameson.

"I want the two of you to get a team together and investigate Zion III."

Already, Henkel could see the disdain creeping into his partner's eyes. He didn't like Garret. The man was a meta, and Jameson positively hated them but they had to work together and as far as Henkel was concerned this registered meta was a great asset. The man could nullify mutant powers. That would come in very handy and he knew that in time Jameson would appreciate the ability, the guy just needed time.

"Inform, director Adams of the situation." Henkel instructed looking directly at Jameson the looking over at Garret, "You contact, Birkshire and get a team set up at the reactor a.s.a.p. The last thing this country needs is some meta-human terrorist taking out half of Chicago."

Garret shot up and nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir." he responded then started for the door.

Jameson got out of his chair in far less militaristic fashion and followed the meta. "See you at the plant." he said glancing back over his shoulder.

Henkel, opened his desk drawer and transferred his standard issue side arm, a Glock model 22, .40 caliber, to his shoulder holster. He finished off his coffee in one gulp, grabbed his trench coat of the rack and headed out of his office.

Henkel pulled out of the parking garage and made his way to the Stevenson express way, then took Lake Shore drive north to the Raffaelio Hotel at Deleware Place. He made sure that he arrived at his destination quickly, at least twenty minutes early. He entered the lobby and flashed his badge to the man at the desk. "I'm special agent Henkel of the F.B.I. I need to see your tenant list."

The young man brought up the recent bookings on his screen and rotated the monitor so that the agent could see it.

"Could you call suite 1177 please?" Asked Henkel while he scanned the list to make sure that the name 'Chikinsky' was indeed registered to that room.

As Agent Henkle scanned the registary the name Romanolf Chikinsky did appear as registared to Suite 1177. The desk clerk, said Agent Henkle, Mr. Chikinsky as asked me to tell you, when you arrived to please join him in the bar.

Nicolia, disguised as Romanolf Chiniksky, sat in a booth in the back corner of the hotel bar facing the entrance. His lap top computer and a club soda with a twist of lime sat on the table before him.

Exhausted and annoyed, Grey's control was low and the minute he saw the big man, he immediately insulted him loudly. For the first time since his childhood, Grey looked away, nervous but Apex seemed aware of his condition and didn't so much as blink. He listened in silence, watching Apex carefully a few times when his head jerked for any signs of confusion. Clearly word had gotten around about him an Grey wasn't so sure how he felt about that. Still, the task seemed relatively easy and Grey's face remained otherwise nonchalant until Apex got to the part where he said "we can literally control the world."

At this, Grey grew still, narrowing his eyes in suspicion as he surveyed the man. He'd seen these types of people. Hell, his own parents practically fell into the category-- rich, greedy snakes. He'd worked for those who strove to be the kings of the underworld, even if their idea of the underworld was only their pathetic little territory. There was one thing they all had in common, and that was an unwillingness bordering heavily on an inability to share power. Grey wasn't as stupid as he acted. He knew he'd been nothing but a tool since he'd left home and somehow his recent freedom hadn't lost its novelty. He was in no rush to end up someone's lackey again. He was already on RAID's radar because of it.

Slowly, he got to his feet, idly lighting a cigarette and scratching his bare side, scars slicing faintly across the toned muscles.

"What happens after Highwayman or whatever gets this thing goin'?" he asked. Apex inclined his head slightly.

"You will help me set up the mechanisms across the country," Apex replied with the obviousness in his tone.

"No, I mean, like, after that," said Grey through a twitch of his face. Apex looked back at him for a moment and Grey slowly paced across the room. "Here's the thing," he went on, keeping the slight pull at the corner of his mouth hidden. He couldn't even try to say he wasn't enjoying this new-found power. "I do this thing for you and make you king of the world or whatever. That's cool. But I ain't gonna be nobody's bitch, alright?" He pointed his cigarette at Apex much to Stefan's discomfort but the big man said nothing. After a pause, Grey straightened and took another drag from the cigarette. "First thing's first . . . and I ain't sayin' yeah . . . how much?" When Apex stated the number flatly, Grey froze, his face going lax for a moment. Numbers like that had barely been so much as spoken in his presence since he was a child. Still, he regained control of himself and wiped the expression from his face. "When this is over, I'm nobody's bitch, alright? You want my help for anything else--SON OF A BITCH!-- you're gonna pay me. You leave me cut loose 'cept for business shit and you gotta deal."

Grey turned his cold stare up to Apex, his expression flat, hiding the hope that fluttered behind his gaze. He was starting to realize that getting the living hell beaten out of him and having to flee New York may have been the best thing that ever happened to the meta, even if he did have to keep a closer watch out for RAID.

Grey's and Scavenger's motel room...

Apex Fusion leaned his back against the wall, folded his great arms across his chest and patiently listened to Grey's conditions. He wasn't used to being dictated too and in a way he found it refreshing. He knew the hit-man was not talking out of disrespect but confidence and he admired that. The little boy he had once knew had come quite far, much further than he had ever expected he would but now was not the time for a walk down memory lane. It was enough that he had finally found him.

"Don't worry, Grey, you'll get your money," Apex assured him, "but you needn't be so mercenary. You're family now, you and your bird." Apex's white eyes glanced over to Scavenger and a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You just do your part and we'll do the rest. That's all I ask, well almost."

Apex reached into his breast shirt pocket, took out a PDA and tossed it to Grey. "The password is your name." he told him, "I've entered all the information you need into it. It also has a scrambler. You've got five minutes of air time before anyone can trace you.

"After you, complete your task at the Zion III reactor, I want you to make your way to the northern tower and assist in defending it. Some of the others will be there as well. It's at the top of an apartment block, so they won't dare to attempt to use excessive force, they'll have to try and take it with ground troops. Of course they'll have a difficult time tracing the signal, but eventually someone will figure it out and that's where you come in. All you have to do is ensure that no one gets to the tower and know that each one is connected to enough explosives to level a city block, their experts will need time to disarm them. Time that they won't have. The deformities begin after twenty four hours, hold them off for that amount of time and they will soon after begin to lose heart.

Apex smiled and started to leave. "Is there anything else you would like know?" he asked, stopping before the doorway.

Grey paused, glancing over at his gun which was sitting on the bedside table, and scratched his bare stomach.

"One more thing," he said, "I want real guns. That piece of shit over there is all I got left and it's good for like, emergencies at best. Real guns with real ammo. And silencers. I don't need scopes." He looked hard back at Apex who hid the curl in his lip.

"It's done," he said smoothly, "I'll have them delivered here immediately." With that, the big man slipped out into the hallway and vanished behind the door. Grey's head was spinning. If Scavenger spoke to him, he didn't hear it as he took one final drag on his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray by the bed. He then stretched out his sore muscles and pulled a shirt on one arm at a time. His mind drifted to the pharmaceutical goodies Stefan had brought back and found himself wondering how much time he'd have to get screwed up. Still, the job seemed like one he could easily do stoned.

Wandering into the bathroom, he splashed some water onto his face and quickly brushed his teeth before he turned his gaze up to his own reflection. There was a bruise coloring one side of his face and the gash in his neck had sealed up to a mere cut. His eyes were still reddened from the night before and this paired with the paleness in his face from having just woken up made him look pretty strung-out.

"Damn," he thought to himself before he straightened and headed back into the room. "Gimme some'a that shit before we go do this," he said. Scavenger tossed him a bottle and he tossed back a few pills before flopping spread eagle back onto the bed. The sore muscles in his back relaxed into the soft, worn mattress and he smiled watching the ceiling begin to fade and warp above him.

The Raffaello Hotel...



Agent Henkel walked into the bar and scanned the occupants. A few men stood out to him but he had no idea who what this Russian agent looked like. A few moments later the man sitting in the booth at the back corner of the lounge waved to him.

Henkel sauntered over to the table and slid into the seat across from the man who was currently engrossed in something on his laptop. A server came over and he ordered pint of whatever they had that was comparable to Newcastle Brown Ale.

"Mr. Chikinsky, I'm special agent Henkel." he said extending his hand across the table, "I am very interested to hear what you know about the Chameleon. You called her Yelena?"


Meanwhile...



Agents Jameson and Garret sped northward toward the new Zion III nuclear reactor at the head of a joint FBI and RAID task force. As they drove along, Garret apprised himself on the status of the reactor by reviewing the information in the cars onboard computer, the very same information that Grey Pyre would have access to on the PDA given to him by Apex Fusion.

Zion III was set to go live in a few days and before that happened the system was vulnerable to the transmitters that the Highwayman was going to install while Grey destabilized the reactor. The agents of course had no knowledge, yet of the Apex's scheme to siphon power from the plant to initiate his 'mutating signal'. They believed that someone, possibly a meta was going to attempt to sabotage he reactor and were going to set up to defend it which would make Grey's and the Highwayman's jobs all the more difficult.

"добрый день, Oсобый Агент Саймон Henkle" ( Good Afternoon Special Agent Simon Henkle)Nicolia said as he rose slightly and reached across the table, grasping Special Agents Henkel's hand firmly, then sat back down. "Ah Special Agent Henkle it is a plweshur to meet you. I am Major Romanolf Chikinsky of de Rushian MVD." he said as he presented his credintials to Agent Henkel. After Henkle handed them back, Nicolia continued "I do hpoe vee vill work vell togather to apprehend dis "Cameleon" und return her to Russia ver she veel be brought to justus vith extreme predujuice. Da?" He then slid a 4" thick file folder across the table to Agent Henkel. "Dis is a copy of our complete doiser on vee Cameleon."
As Agent Henkle reached across the table he noticed two other thicker files, in Nicolia's laptop case, on the table with the names Oсобый Агент Саймон Henkle ( SpeciaalAgent Simon Henkle) and Oсобый Агент Rick определению (Special Agent Rick Jameson) written in Russian and Engilsh on the tabs.

A motel somewhere in Chicago...



A few hours and several pills later there was a knock on the motel room door.

Scavenger who always seemed to remain spry and alert despite how many drugs he had in his system, sprang off of his bed and landed, lightly, although unsteadily on the floor and answered it. He opened the door and squinting from the bright light, immediately reached for and put on his extra dark sun glasses. There standing under the afternoon sun was a nondescript looking man carrying a large case.

"Fusion sent me." he said and upon hearing the name, Stefan opened the door wide and let him in.

The man didn't stay long. All he did was walk in, place the case on the floor and toss a thin, black notebook to Scavenger. He then left and shut the door.

Stefan looked to Grey with raised eyebrows then slipping his sunglasses off he opened up the thin, jet black laptop and brought it over to his partner. He sat down on the bed beside him and set the computer on his lap so that they both could see.

The laptop had no keys or mouse pad, there was just a green coloured thumb print in the center of the screen that was slowly pulsating. Not really thinking, Scavenger placed his thumb to the screen, and the thumb print glowed red for a few seconds and the words 'Access Denied' flashed underneath it. It was quite obvious to Grey what the solution was and when he touched the print with his thumb, the graphic glowed brightly and Apex Fusion appeared on the screen.

"Hello, Greyson and you as well, Scavenger. This is a recorded message and it will only play once so listen carefully. In the case you will find the weapons that you have requested. They are state of the art, and are equipped with 'genetic-signature-verification' or g.s.v. A nice little security feature developed by one of my subsidiary companies, Genomorph Laboratories. Here's how it works. In the case you will find what looks like a silver aerosol can. I want you to spray your hand with it then grip one of the weapons as if you were going to fire it. Once the agent on your hand makes contact with the g.s.v. the only person that will be able to fire that weapon is you.

"I hope you will be pleased with them, the sniper rifle is a personal gift from me to you. The site offers thermal imaging at five hundred meters and will penetrate standard walls. I will call on you from time to time to put them to good use, but for now concentrate on the reactor.

"In the case you will also find a cell phone programmed to contact the Highwayman. Once you are in position use it to contact him. Good luck."

The screen went black then some text appeared that read, 'Please place the Message Book away from you.', then a count down starting at '10' began.

Scavenger wasn't sure what was going to happen, but count downs usually weren't a good thing. He hopped of the bed, put the Message Book on the dresser top and moved away. When the countdown hit '0' there was a fizzling sound and all the internal components of the system were completely burnt up while hardly heating the outer shell, rendering it useless and untraceable.

_______________________________________________________________________

The Raffaello Hotel Lounge...



Henkel accepted the heaping file folder from the MVD agent and tried to let on that he had not noticed the files of he and Jameson under the laptop, although they were pretty much in plain sight. If he didn't want him to the see them he could have hidden them better and so this lead the FBI agent to suspect that this man was well connected and possibly even had diplomatic immunity.

He flipped open the folder and quickly skimmed over the first few pages and he was very surprised to see that the Russian knew the true identity of Cowboy.

_______________________________________________________________________



Real Name: Yelena Petrokovich

Allias: Chameleon

Powers/Abilities: Shape Shifter with the ability to psionically shift the formation of her biological cells at will to change her appearance and thereby assume the form of other humans. Can only take on the shape of other human that are similar in size to her own body proportions. When she assumes the identity of another, she can also change her voice to be that of the persons as well. Her shifting abilities can only last for a no more than two hours.

Trained: martial arts, hand to hand combat, gymnastics, Olympic Gold Medalist.

Born: The eighth child of a farmer and his wife. Father, mother and syblings deceased.

Speculation: Yelena's abilities came about due to exposure to the radiation leaked from a nuclear disaster.

Appearance: Female - mid-twenties. Blond hair, green eyes
During the shape shifting her eyes take on a yellow color with reptilian like black pupils. The entire process only lasts about 30 seconds, blue skin that briefly appears upon her body just before assuming the form of another. Speaks with a soft voice, with a Slavic accent.

Languages: Fluent in Russian, English, French, German and Hungarian.

Last confirmed location: Lake Pleasant, New York - USA

Accompanied by:
Toril Njordhagen - AKA: WRAITH - File# MH060755
Dominic Cassius - File# NMH082510

Known Associates:
Timothy James Rutherford - AKA: "COWBOY" - File# MH050250
Robert Perovanini - AKA: "Mister DiVine" - File# MH043126 (incarserated R.A.I.D Faclility-New York - USA)
John McManus - AKA: "GEARBOX" - File# MH050479 (R.A.I.D. custody Chicago, Illinois - USA)
Unknown - AKA: "BUG" - File# MH012022
[/color]
_______________________________________________________________________

Satisfied, Henkel then closed the folder and looked up at the man who was patiently awaiting him to keep up his end of the bargain.

"Looks like you've been keeping an eye on her for some time, Major Chikinsky." Said Henkel as he reached into his breast pocket. He then took out a flash-drive and handed it to him.

"I know I told you that we suspected the Chameleon might be involved with a terrorist attack on the new Zion III reactor, but what you don't know is that she may already be long gone." Henkel admitted, "On that drive is satellite video of a woman that I suspect may be Yelena Petrokovich."

"We've been monitoring the home of Tim Rutherford, aka, Cowboy, Arnette, Texas whom I've noticed you've been aware of for some time." Henkel explained, trying to hide the bitterness in his tone, "This woman showed up a few days ago out of the blue and just seemed a little to coincidental. You'll find all the information you need on the drive, including files on the Timbles. Henry Timble is the owner of the Circle T Ranch where the suspect is currently staying."

Henkel then handed agent Kaleb Mitchell's card to the Major, "This is the leader of the surveillance team I have in place, he's staying at the Embassy Suites in Lubbock. I'll notify him to give you their complete cooperation, sir."

_______________________________________________________________________

The Apartment of Devon Gale (a.k.a Wraith)...



Another day done, Devon thought to himself with a yawn as he made himself a snack. He thought he would just have something light since he was going to head over to Simon Henkel's barbecue in a few hours and sat in front of the TV to kill some time. He surfed the channels until he found an historic documentary then settled into his new leather recliner.

Placing his wrap down on the table beside him he picked up the newspaper and perused the front page that had as its feature story, 'ZION III TO GO LIVE IN TWO DAYS'. He also noticed in less bold type within the same article that an unknown source had disclosed that the FBI had been investigating what was believed to be suspected terrorist acts involving one of the engineers. There was very little information but despite that the media still had to elaborate on it, thankfully the public had reached such a state of apathy that there was little risk of panic. Devon, or rather Wraith was, however, intrigued. Maybe, Henkel would be able to shed a little more light on the case.

For a moment, Grey blinked and said nothing, staring at the smoking screen. He then cracked open the case and pushed it open onto the bed. One look inside and he almost had to change his pants. Inside he found exactly what he had been told he would, but somehow he hadn't expected them to be so . . . shiny and new. Spraying his hands, he gripped each weapon, pausing to point it at Scavenger each time and test out the scope. Used to this, Scavenger just rolled his eyes and stared blankly back at Grey even when he lowered the gun and grinned at him.

When he was finished admiring the weapons and making them his own, Grey stood and began loading himself up, his face falling into a businesslike calm as though he were in a morning routine headed to a desk job. Stowing the smaller gun in his belt, he threw on his jacket and zipped it up, pulling it over the gun so that there was no sign of it. He then dropped the phone into the pocket above his right knee while tossing a pack of cigarettes and two bottles of pills into the pocket above his left knee. Slipping the sniper rifle over his shoulder he paused, looking out at the darkening sky, the weight of the weapons and the apprehension of the mission playing through him like he had just come home from prison. Finally, it was all the fun he didn't know he missed and this time, he was in control.

Finally, Greyson Pyre turned to look at Scavenger over his shoulder.

"We're goin' over the buildings like before," he said, referring to his own habit of traveling across rooftops, "get me to this place." An excited smirk broke over Scavenger's face before he transformed into a bird and with a squawk, took off out the window the moment Grey cracked it open. Finding the fire escape, the assassin crawled out into the fading dusk and swung easily out onto the ladder. Without missing a beat, the expertly ascended it to the top of the building where the great black crow stood waiting for him. Like a cat, Grey moved silently across the dense roofs, barely a faint shadow blinking across it, heading straight for Zion III.

Zion III, Nuclear Reactor. Two days prior to going live...

Zion III had been seven years in the making, two of which were spent creating a man-made island for it, three kilometers of shore in Wilmette Harbor. The new nuclear reactor was approximately forty kilometers away, as the crow flies, but for Grey Pyre now burdened with his new weaponry the trek would be a tedious one. The journey, even if he could go full out for the entire journey would take him three hours, but the time would not be wasted. Grey had to plan. The security would be heavy and since the body of one of the top engineers had turned up who knew who else was going to join the party. Grey would have to be ready for anything.

The PDA that Apex Fusion had given to Grey had all the information he would need to infiltrate Zion III. Programmed into the database were several maps with a menu that allowed him to highlight the guard stations and all the possible pathways he could take to reach the closest point to the core allowing the mutant to use his ability. The goal was to temporarily destabilize the plant and not cause a melt down, so tampering with the main control room would not allow them to achieve their goal. Apex required the reactor operational.



Grey Pyre and Scavenger were still several hours from their destination while Special Agent Jameson and R.A.I.D. Agent Garret traveled by boat to the island. The two men stood at the bow, staring out into the black waters and beyond to the lights of Zion III while at the stern a crack team of specialized R.A.I.D. agents in full gear checked their weaponry and went over schematics to familiarize themselves with the reactor.

"So, can you see in the dark or anything like that?" Asked Jameson before sipping his coffee.

Agent Garret smiled. "Nope."

Jameson nodded, never once looking over at the meta and apparently that was the extent of the conversation he wanted to have since he remained silent for the rest of the short trip. When they reached the dock, the sixteen men immediately mobilized and hastened to their check points, while Jameson and Garret brought up the rear.



The Apartment of Devon Gale (a.k.a. Wraith)...



Devon lowered the volume on his TV while he spoke on the phone. "That's alright." he replied as Henkel broke it to him that he had to cancel his barbecue. Something had come up with work,and the agent seemed very anxious. He was disappointed of course to change his guests plans at the last minute, but everyone that knew him realized that was the nature of his job, and Devon completely understood.

"Hey, no worries. You've got my number, give me a call some time." Said Devon. He then said his good byes and hung up the phone.

The big man eased back into his chair and took a sip out of his water glass while retrieving Henkel's address from his shirt pocket. His eyes glanced over at the clock on the wall and figured that the agent would probably be well on his way to whatever emergency he had to deal with in a few minutes.

"5320 North Kenmore avenue." Devon read to himself. Only a short flight away.

He grabbed his plate and drank the rest of his water on the way back to the kitchen, debating whether or not to break into Simon's house if only to satisfy his curiousity. That was definitely a misuse of power, not to mention it was just plain underhanded, but whatever Henkel was dealing with was big. He could sense it in his tone of voice. The agent, he had quickly learned, could be pretty much be taken at face value and not much scared the man, but there was a slight tremble in his voice that denoted an event that could be potentially life threatening. What could it be?

Silently, Wraith glided through the nigh sky. As he neared Henkel's home he became the wind and invisibly approached it. He circled around the perimeter a few times, checking the windows and seeing no activity slipped in through a crack and navigated through the dwelling in his wind form.

Wraith moved very slowly, careful not to stir up his molecules and produce a glow. He was in the house of an FBI agent after all and he wouldn't put it past the man to have some hidden cameras around. Still, even at his slowest rate the ghostly hero mysteriously stirred the curtains or curled papers left on table tops no matter how careful he was.

Eventually, he came upon Henkel's office and still not wanting to expose himself, Wraith remained invisible. The computers were off, but there lying on the desk was a print out of a schematic diagram for the Zion III nuclear reactor and beside it was a profile of the murdered engineer, James Boyd. Wraith's instincts had been correct! Somone was targeting the new nuclear reactor! But who?

Wraith searched the bulletin board on the wall opposite the computer desk and their amidst several other pictures from various cases, one stood out. It was the picture of a meta that the super hero had encountered a long time ago, a man by the name of Lance Strauss, also known as the Highwayman and that could mean only one thing — Apex Fusion.

There was so much more that Devon wanted to look into, but to do so he needed to materialize and that wasn't an option, also maintaining his wind form for the extended period of time was beginning to wear on him. He knew now where to go and who to look for and that would be enough. The air mutant, found a partially open window that would make for an easy escape but before he left something else caught his eye. On a second desk tucked into the other corner of the room was a thick file with a name that he knew on it. It was written in cyrillic but, Devon could read it, 'Yelena Petrokovish - Chameleon'.

Astral Traveller by the band Yes, reverberated through the old garage, originating from the open doors of the 1983 Cordoba in the far bay. In the center, Slate worked away at adding a new modification to his retractable whip weapon, humming along with Anderson's cybernetic sounding voice. It had been a long day, and he was feeling the urge again, so he focused on some technical work. Sometimes, it helped him control the blood lust, some times it didn't, but with the increased presence of R.A.I.D. in Chicago he had to be all the more careful. Damn, if he didn't enjoy a challenge though.

Slate focused on replacing a computer chip amidst a mass of minute brass coloured gears he had exposed by removing the black grip. He needed to wear magnifying glasses to perform the modification and as he dropped the chip in place his enlarged eyes flicked toward a ceiling vent over the third bay, to his left. A sudden gust wind whistled though it drawing his attention for a moment, then he returned to his work. He removed the glasses and sealed the inner mechanisms with it's strong casing, the satisfied with his changes stood up and made his way to the back of the garage.

Beside the office which he had converted to his bedroom was a small lunch room he used as a kitchen. He entered through the open door, grabbed a cloth to clean his hand then opened the door to the bright red, 'Coca-Cola' refrigerator. Slate grabbed himself a beer from a shelf devoted to it and without looking reached over the door and handed it out to the air.

"Wanna beer?" Sigma casually asked, prompting the large man to materialize out of nothing and take the bottle with a curious smile on his masked face.

"Thanks." Said Wraith, wondering how Sigma detected him.

"You should be a little more in tune with the weather." Said Slate, as he shut the fridge, cracked his beer and leaned against the grimy counter top.

Wearing blue cover-alls, with the name, 'Patrick' embroidered on the shirt pocket, Slate was hardly dressed for the occasion that Wraith had obviously dropped by to invite him to. "So, where ya off ta, all dolled up, Wraith?"

Wraith filled Slate in on his suspicions that something major was going down at the Zion III, Nuclear Reactor and when he was finished, the dark crime-fighter was very interested. "Always wanted to take a tour of one of those things."he mentioned.

Wraith just smiled and took a swig of his beer.

When the reactor came closer into his sharp sights, Grey ducked himself into the grass and pulled out the sniper rifle. His inhuman sight let him see the first of the unfortunate guards standing outside of the building and with one glance through the scope silently dropped the both of them. Moving quickly, patiently, Greyson Pyre worked his way towards the reactor, careful to keep from making too much noise or ruffling any of the tall grass that swayed above him. Finally, he paused just behind the parking lot and scanned the open space. No one had noticed the guards were dead yet. Saying nothing, the cat-footed assassin leaped out of the grass and ducked behind a car.

Slowly, he worked his way across the parking lot, darting between cars until he was ducking in the shadow of the building, pressed against the wall, careful to avoid cameras. There, he leaned on his gun and checked the map again on the little device Apex had given him. Glancing between the map and the building, he made a rough, mental path in his head. He then motioned to Scavenger and whispered almost inaudibly to him.

"I'm gonna open the doors. Go in and tell me where the guards are on this floor." Without waiting to see if Scavenger had anything to say about it, Grey hurried up to the doors, disabled the lock, and slipped inside where he immediately flattened himself against the front wall and shot out the first camera he saw. Almost immediately, a security guard emerged around a corner and reached for his gun the second he laid eyes on Grey. Grey was faster, however, and quickly raised his gun and pulled the trigger, blowing a hole straight through the man's head. For a moment, Grey paused, listening for heartbeats and footsteps before he motioned for Scav to go ahead. There, he scanned the walls and found two more cameras which he took out quickly and silently. His first instinct was to swear but he could already tell his body was rebelling against the prolonged silence and the increased pressure of the heavy patrols didn't help.

Taking a deep breath, he paused at the sound of wings flapping along with footfalls and shouts. Grey raised his gun and waited, head down, peering over the scope, waiting like a predator in the grass. When Scavenger came squawking around the corner pursued by two confused and annoyed guards, Grey fired off two quick rounds, hitting on in the chest and one in the neck. The two dropped before they could react to seeing him. Lowering the weapon just slightly, Grey turned expectantly to his partner who reported the corridor was clear but that he didn't know about the rest of the floor. Apparently large, black birds were more of a disturbance than they would have been to the assassin. Sighing, Grey hurried across the hall towards the elevator and paused, listening to the whirs and hums inside. The chances of it coming to the first floor were slim but he didn't want to risk the stairs.

Checking the map again, Grey lowered his head by the door and tried to focus on the sounds of the machine's movements within the shaft. There were two elevators working on either side of the building. With a moment's pause, Grey flicked the kill switch that was his mind and listened again, holding his breath. The whirring still continued on one side, but not the other. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Grey forced the elevator doors open and looked up. In the distance, he could see the working elevator drifting up, away from him while one hovered between the two floors above him. Without looking to see if Scavenger was behind him, Grey flipped the gun over his shoulder and lept through the shaft and grabbed hold of the cables from the broken one. He waited for Scavenger to follow before he disabled the mechanisms holding the doors open and let them slam shut with a metallic crash that echoed through the whole shaft and reverberated painfully in his ears.

Pausing with his legs wrapped around the cable, Grey hovered for a minute and listened through the flutter of Scav's wings to the elevator above him. The sounds practically echoed back to him: The shifting and muttering, the frustrated clicks of fingers pushing buttons, the squeak of the emergency door opening which Grey quickly destroyed and listened to the shout when the one reaching for the phone got shocked. The mutant's lip curled as he began to very carefully pull himself up the cable towards the car. When he was just beneath it, he paused again, listening to the shuffling talking. He then placed a hand on the bottom to make sure of their positions before he swung the gun back around and fired through the floor. The second person was easier to find thanks to his shocked swearing and Grey easily shot him through the cheap metal bottom of the elevator before he reached around and scurried up the side. Now perched on top of the car, he checked his position in relation to the core.

Making progress . . . and one non-working elevator shouldn't be cause for too much worry. Moving the top aside, Grey dropped into the car and forced the doors open. There, he kicked the bodies down the shaft before kicking off of the wall and pulling himself back out through the top. Before replacing the tile he'd jumped through, he looked with dismay at the bloodstains on the floor. Nothing he could waste time dealing with now. He just had to get to the core before anyone noticed. He checked the time. Still plenty more to get to where he needed to be. Shouldering the rifle, Grey started again up the cable, watching the floors move up. His arms were aching by the time he got to where he needed to be and he wrapped his legs tighter around the cable so that he could free one hand to motion to Scavenger. He then pointed the vent, telling him to try to peck it open.

The huge crow perched on it and began to peck and scratch at the screws. When almost a full minute went by, Grey motioned impatiently for him to move and raised his gun again. Firing two rounds into the thin metal, Grey ignored the burning in the muscles of his arms for long enough to swing his body forward and kick at the vent as hard as he could. After two hard kicks, the vent buckled and sat in a crumpled heap in the open air shaft. Now, the stealthy killer was home. Balancing with his strong legs, Grey threw himself at the opening, pulling himself inside where he paused for a moment, flat on his stomach, letting his back and arms rest.

Finally, he motioned for Scav to move along ahead of him and began his very quiet journey through the ceilings and walls, following the map towards the core.