Chapter 14: The Man Who Came Prepared
The parking lot had gone dead quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that came from peace.
The kind that came from a room full of people realizing something was very wrong.
Glass still glittered across the asphalt from the shattered windows.
Students stood frozen.
Teachers looked terrified.
Several mutant students were on the ground, groaning after the strange pulse from the containment devices.
And in the middle of it all stood Colonel William Stryker.
Calm.
Composed.
Like he'd walked into a business meeting.
Not a school.
Not a battlefield.
Certainly not Xavier's territory.
Logan was the first to move.
Not toward Stryker.
Toward the soldiers.
His claws slid free with a metallic snikt.
Every soldier immediately raised a weapon.
The tension snapped tight.
"Easy," Stryker said.
Nobody listened.
Logan's eyes narrowed.
"You got about three seconds to explain why you're pointing guns at kids."
One of the soldiers shifted.
Not much.
But Damien noticed.
Nervous.
Scared.
Good.
They should be.
Stryker folded his hands behind his back.
"Those aren't guns."
"Funny," Logan growled. "They sure look like guns."
The Colonel's eyes drifted past him.
Directly to Damien.
Again.
Always back to Damien.
The feeling crawled beneath his skin.
Like being measured.
Weighed.
Catalogued.
"Damien Blackwell."
The words were casual.
Too casual.
The kind of casual people used when they already knew the answer.
Damien leaned against a nearby car.
"That's me."
Anna immediately shot him a look.
Not now.
Damien ignored it.
"What do you want?"
Stryker smiled.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
The smile never reached his eyes.
"I'd like to talk."
"Then call."
Several students snorted.
Even now.
Even here.
Damien couldn't help himself.
For a split second irritation flashed across Stryker's face.
Then it vanished.
Interesting.
The man didn't like losing control.
Not even a little.
"You're aware of your abilities?"
Stryker asked.
The question felt wrong.
Damien couldn't explain why.
But it did.
Like a trap hidden beneath normal conversation.
"A little."
"A little?"
"Well, I haven't exploded yet."
Scott closed his eyes.
Jean pinched the bridge of her nose.
Kitty looked like she was trying not to laugh.
The Colonel ignored all of them.
His gaze remained fixed.
Studying.
Calculating.
"You're a remarkable young man."
Damien shrugged.
"My report cards disagree."
A few nearby students laughed.
Stryker didn't.
The Colonel simply reached into his coat.
Instantly—
Logan moved.
Every soldier raised their weapons.
Scott stepped forward.
Jean's eyes glowed.
The atmosphere exploded.
"Relax."
Stryker slowly produced a file.
Nothing else.
No weapon.
No threat.
Just paper.
He tossed it.
The folder landed at Damien's feet.
Nobody moved.
For several seconds.
Then Damien bent down and picked it up.
The moment he opened it—
His expression changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
Enough for Jean to notice.
Inside were photographs.
Lots of photographs.
Damien.
Anna.
Their old home.
Their school.
Places they'd lived.
People they'd known.
Years worth of information.
Collected.
Organized.
Studied.
Someone had been watching.
For a long time.
The smile vanished from Damien's face.
"Where'd you get this?"
Stryker tilted his head.
"There are many things in this world hidden from ordinary people."
That wasn't an answer.
The Colonel knew it.
Damien knew it.
Everyone knew it.
But the message was clear.
We know who you are.
We've known for years.
The threads exploded across Damien's vision.
Thousands of possibilities.
Thousands of futures.
And almost all of them led somewhere dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Beside him Anna stepped closer.
Not visibly.
Most people wouldn't notice.
Damien did.
She was worried.
Which meant things were worse than they looked.
Stryker's gaze shifted briefly.
Landing on Rogue.
Something unreadable flickered across his face.
Recognition?
Interest?
It was gone too quickly to tell.
Then he looked back at Damien.
"We should speak privately."
"No."
The answer came instantly.
No hesitation.
No consideration.
Just no.
The Colonel sighed.
Like a teacher dealing with a difficult student.
"I wasn't finished."
"I was."
That earned a few nervous laughs from the crowd.
Again.
Stryker didn't appreciate them.
"You have no idea what you are."
The parking lot fell silent.
Damien's eyes narrowed.
"That's dramatic."
"It isn't."
For the first time there was genuine certainty in the Colonel's voice.
Not arrogance.
Belief.
Absolute belief.
"You think you're unique."
Stryker said quietly.
"You think your mutation appeared naturally."
The threads froze.
Every single one.
Damien's heartbeat slowed.
Not from fear.
From focus.
The entire world seemed to narrow.
One sentence.
One implication.
"You know something."
Stryker smiled.
"There it is."
Logan immediately stepped forward.
"That's enough."
The Colonel ignored him.
"I know many things."
His gaze never left Damien.
"And one day you'll come looking for answers."
The smile returned.
Cold.
Patient.
Confident.
"When that happens."
He turned toward the armored vehicles.
"You'll know where to find me."
The soldiers began withdrawing.
Orderly.
Disciplined.
Like this entire confrontation had gone exactly according to plan.
Which bothered Damien more than anything.
As the convoy prepared to leave—
Jean suddenly froze.
A sharp pain exploded through her head.
The world blurred.
Images flooded her mind.
Not her memories.
Someone else's.
A laboratory.
Metal tables.
Screaming.
Children.
Needles.
Machines.
Then—
A symbol.
The same symbol from Xavier's files.
The vision shattered.
Jean gasped.
Nearly collapsing.
Damien caught her.
Again.
"Jean."
She stared at the departing convoy.
Face pale.
Eyes wide.
"He knows."
"What?"
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
"He knows we're looking."
The vehicles drove away.
No one stopped them.
Not because they couldn't.
Because nobody understood what had just happened.
Not completely.
Not yet.
Far away, inside one of the armored transports, Stryker sat in silence.
A soldier glanced at him.
"Sir?"
The Colonel looked out the window.
Watching Bayville disappear behind them.
"Interesting."
The soldier waited.
After several moments he finally asked.
"The boy?"
Stryker nodded.
"The boy."
He reached into the folder on his lap.
Pulling out an old photograph.
Fifteen years old.
Faded.
Damaged.
The image showed a hospital room.
Two newborn twins.
One sleeping peacefully.
The other staring directly at the camera.
As if he already understood the world.
Stryker studied the photograph.
Then closed the file.
"Continue observation."
The soldier frowned.
"No retrieval?"
For the first time all day, Stryker laughed.
A small laugh.
A dangerous one.
"Not yet."
Outside, thunder rolled across the sky.
And hundreds of miles away, deep beneath a mountain hidden from every map in America, a steel door slowly opened.
Something inside lifted its head.
Awake.
Waiting.
And somehow connected to Damien Blackwell.
Though none of them knew it yet.
The game had already begun.