CHAPTER SEVEN...

Erik and Charles sat in the back of the truck, on their way to capture Shaw. In front of them were a dozen CIA agents, and Moira and her partner driving. The air was tense, Erik swore he saw several men praying. He tried to keep his heartbeat steady, and held his gaze with anyone who dared look at him.

There was a knock on the boarded up hole that let them communciate with the driver, and Charles and Erik opened it to reveal an anxious looking Moira.

Her partner said. "We got a problem." Erik's stomach dropped.

"What?!" Charles asked.

"I'm so sorry, this wasn't on the map." Moira said curtly. Up ahead, Erik spotted a Russian stop point. At least half a dozen armed men patrolled the gate. They weren't getting through without being noticed. Erik suddenly knew they had failed.

"No matter what happens." Charles said, his voice wavering slightly. "Act normally." They closed the latch, and turned back toward the soldiers. Erik looked at Charles incredulously. What on earth could save them from a checkpoint?

"Now listen to me," Charles said loudly. "Do as I say, and when that door opens, do not engage..." The men nodded, but as they heard the jolt of a truck door slamming shut, they still raised their guns to the back door.

As the chains rattled, several placed their fingers eagerly on the triggers.

"Whoa, whoa." Charles said, standing up in the crowded caravan, placing two fingers on his temple. "Easy there, chaps." there was a loud clunk of a gun cocking, and Erik stiffened as the chains on the back door began to clatter. Surely they should fire and kill the guards before they had a chance to alert anyone else. But Charles stood his ground, his finger touching his head, never so much as moving to attack.

In an instant, the door swung open, and the CIA Agent, wearing a fur hat and a skeptical look on his face, peered inside the truck, where dozens of soldiers pointed their rifles at the Russian guard beside him. But the guard did not call for backup, he did not raise his gun. Instead he surveyed the back with mild disinterest. Charles made a small noise of strain, and it was a moment before Erik realized he was controlling the Guards mind to make it seem like they were not in the back of the truck.

One of the other Russian guards called to another, but it was in a playful sort of tone, nothing to imply they were being infiltrated by the CIA. Their agent asked for confirmation, the Russian nodded, then the doors closed with another jolt that shook Erik to his very core. Charles let out a relieved sigh. Erik along with him, and the tightness in the air lessened. Charles looked at Erik, and Erik patted Charles' knee in congratulations.

The truck thundered on, and Erik's heart raced inside his chest. He thought about what he would when they found Shaw. Erik imagined what it would feel like to watch the life leave his captor's eyes. Erik would tell Shaw Leena had sent him, he'd make good on his promise and send Shaw to hell, no matter which one. It was the least he could do. Despite everything Erik had gone through, despite how much he wanted to deny it, he cared for the young mutant more than anyone else. She reminded him of his mother, soft and kind, with a tender heart. Yet beneath the gentleness, beneath the fragility, there was a fighter inside of Leena, a warrior.

The minutes passed by, terrifyingly slow, and Erik bounced his leg, trying to calm his nerves. Finally, after what felt like ages, Moira knocked on the wood behind his head again, the signal for them to move. The door opened revealing Moira and her partner. Erik jumped out of the truck and followed the group to the top of a grassy hill overlooking an expensive manor. A barbed wire fence surrounded the house. Guards were stationed around it. This Russian was important.

The wing beat tune of an aircraft arriving pulled Erik's attention to the landing pad, where a clear helicopter landed down upon the earth. Erik peered through his binoculars, and spotted a certain white clad woman step out of the vehicle. It took every instinct in him not to run and throttle her to death. She was Shaw's right hand woman. She had been a cause of so much pain.

Emma Frost stepped through the gate, alone. When Erik turned his attention back to the helicopter, he watched as it flew away, empty. The man's body tensed, and he clenched his jaw painfully. Erik pulled the binoculars from his eyes and got up a bit more.

"Where's Shaw?" he growled. Charles placed his fingers to his temple once more, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

"I don't know." he said finally. "But if she's a telepath and I read her, she'll know we're here." He looked back to where Frost had just entered the house. "Let me try something else." He closed his eyes once more, and Erik looked back through the binoculars, watching the woman hike up the path to the Mansion. An old man in a Military Uniform stepped out to greet her.

Charles grunted and lowered his hands, shaking his head slowly. "He's not coming."

Erik turned away, rage boiling his blood. He wasn't there. The man who had ruined so many lives, the man he'd come so close to killing once had slipped through his grasp once more. What was he going to tell Leena? How was he going to tell her Shaw had outwitted him once again, just like she'd said he would. Erik shook his head.

No, he wouldn't let that happen. He would do something. He would kill someone for her. He would do anything to get revenge.

"So what now boss?" Charles asked Moira, turning to the young woman. Moira still seemed to be in shock, but then came to her senses and frowned.

"Now nothing." she said. "We're here for Shaw. Mission aborted." Her words sparked some newfound wrath within Erik, and he sat up, throwing his binoculars to the ground.

"The hell it is." he said. Moira placed a hand on his arm, trying to keep him from going.

"Erik..." she warned. He pointed to where Emma had just walked through the large mahogany doors.

"She's his right hand woman." She was the woman Shaw trusted. "That's good enough for me."

"The CIA invading the home of a Senior Soviet Official?" Moira said incredulously. "Are you crazy?!" Maybe he was. Maybe Erik truly was going insane. But there was nothing else he'd rather do than wreak some havok on the lives of those he'd grown to despise.

Erik shook his head. "I'm not CIA." He got up and threw his hat to the ground. Charles called after him, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop now. The wheels were already turning. The wagon was already rolling down the hill.

When the first guards came into view, Erik held out his hands, feeling for the metal of the barbed wire, and watched with satisfaction as it clipped guard after guard, pinning them down, digging the spikes into their flesh.

Erik sprinted down the path to where the black and white gate closed him off. Luckily, the gate was made of steel, and he lifted it with his mind as easily as lifting a chess piece. Two guards at the front of the house raced towards him, pulling out their weapons.

They weren't fast enough, and Erik held out both hands, pulling the rifles towards him. The men grunted and grasped at their guns to no avail. In one sweeping motion, he drew the weapons to the ground, pulling the guards with them. As he ran forward, Erik jumped and kneed one of the men in the mouth, the crunch of bone's breaking jolting through his body.

When he reached the doors, Erik slowed his sprints into a light jog, wiping away the sweat that beaded his brow. The inside of the house was old and traditional, decorated with stuffed animals and wood accents. Erik sauntered past door after door, rounding a corner, straight into two other Russian guards. He immediately thrust out his hands, and the men's firearms broke apart in front of them. They looked at their weapons confusedly, and Erik knocked them out with a flick of the metal to their skulls.

As he walked, Erik heard noise coming from one of the closed doors. When he sarted towards it, another hand shot out and opened the door.

Both Erik and Charles burst through the doorway into an elegant looking bedroom. On one of the velvet couches sat Emma, clad in nothing but white lingerie, and on the bed sat the Russian Official, laughing and running his hands through the air. Emma stood up swiftly.

Erik and Charles shared a look, then turned back to the Russian. He gave one more gleeful squeal, then seemed to come to his senses and saw the two men on the far side of the room. He started speaking quickly in Russian, pointing from Erik and Charles to Emma near the bed.

"Nice trick." Charles said.

The Offical tried to pull out his gun, but before he could, Charles thrust out his hands and called. "Go to sleep." The man swooned on the spot, and collapsed onto the bed, unconscious. Emma's skin sheened, and her entire body quickly turned into glittering diamonds.

Erik widened his stance, prepared to take down this dangerous woman. Charled moved to one side of the room, keeping his gaze on Frost.

Emma looked at him through ice cold eyes. "You can stop trying to read my mind, sugar." Charles groaned and took his hands from his temple. Erik's eyes narrowed. He remembered what it was like to have her inside his head.

"You're not gonna get anything from me while I'm in this form." she said coldly. Erik took a step forward, anger clouding all judgement. His hands curled into fists at his side, his eyes widening. The tension mounted, adrenaline pumping.

Emma smirked, then leapt through the two of them, agile as a cat, ready to make her escape. But Erik and Charles were faster, and they each grabbed one of her arms and threw her back against the golden wires of the bed. Erik immediately wrapped the pipes around each of her wrists, and tightened them until they cracked through her diamond form.

"So then you can just tell us." Erik said, panting. The woman was stronger than she looked. "Where's Shaw?"

Emma fought against her bonds, to no avail. She didn't say a word. Erik looked deep into her eyes and felt for the steel of the bed frame. He stripped it from the solder and wrapped it around her neck.

This woman caused pain. She was just as bad as Shaw. Erik was not leaving Russia without some good news to tell Leena. He was not leaving until he'd exacted his revenge. If not on Shaw, then on the next best person.

The metal tightened, and Emma made a strangled gasp.

"Erik." Charles' pleading voice was distant and out of reach. Erik paid him no mind. More metal wrapped itself around Emma's forearms. He would kill Emma Frost, he would kill Sebastian Shaw. That much was clear. There was no stopping the storm raging beneath his skin.

"Erik, that's enough." he knew should let go. The woman wouldn't go back into her diamond form now. But the taste of victory was too close. He wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop.

"Erik, that's enough!" Charles said louder this time, then continued. "What would Leena call you if continue on?" At the mention of the young girl's name, Erik snapped out of his daze. The cracks on Emma's neck receded as she shifted back into her normal state, and the bonds around her neck loosened, going back to their normal positions.

Erik turned to Charles. "All yours." He moved to the velvet couch. "She won't be shifting into diamond form again. And if she does, just give her a gentle tap."

He sat on the sofa, a cracker in his hand. He looked at Emma, and wished he had finished the job.

✶✶✶

Charles knelt and placed two fingers along his temple. When he entered Emma's mind, it was like dunking his head under an ice cold lake.

Flashes and ripples sped across her thoughts, but eventually, he found what he was looking for.

At first, there was a map of the United States of America. Red markers showed important landmarks. Mount Rushmore. The White House. New York City. Florida. Then there was Cuba, shaded all in red, and a hand stuck out, placing a magnet of a Nuclear weapon against the crimson backdrop.

Next there was Shaw, looking at where Emma/Charles stood, smiling. Nuclear bombs were sent across the Atlantic, bursting on the landscape of Russia, the same going back to the United States of America.

A Nuclear Holocaust.

Shaw's next words mocked Charles, as if the man knew he was being watched. "We are the children of the atom." He was speaking with someone, telling them about his great scheme. "Radiation gave birth to Mutants. What will kill the humans will only make us stronger."

Then they were back in Washington as the world burned around them. Up on a raised platform stood Shaw, smiling, his followers behind him, and the rest of the world in front. They held torches up and chanted indistinctly, but it was what happened next that made Charles' blood curdle.

Beside Shaw, clinging to his hand like a small child, her dark curls hiding parts of her face, was Leena. Only she wasn't the Leena Charles knew. The Leena Charles knew hated Shaw with a passion. She was a healing, timid girl. This Leena was smiling, and looked at the Shaw the way a kid looked adoringly at her father.

Shaw threw off his black gloves and took Leena's frail hand in his own once more. Energy pulsed through him, and black curled around his fingers. He was absorbing the energy. He was taking her power. Leena cried out in anguish, but never stopped looking at Shaw. Once the energy seeped into his skin, Shaw raised his hands above his head, and the darkness clouded the minds of every one of his followers. They bowed before him, the energy injuring them like a whip to the back.

The world went dark. Everything was his.

Shaw ruled the world.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Emma's smooth voice made Charles flinch. Erik looked at him with mild concern, but Emma simply cocked her head to one side, a smirk playing across her lips.

Charles looked into Erik's eyes. "This is worse than we previously imagined." He looked back to Emma. "We're taking you with us. The CIA will want to question you themselves."

Emma shook her head slightly, her luscious blonde curls falling across her bare shoulder. "Oh, I doubt it, they have bigger things to worry about right now."

Charles frowned. What could she possibly mean? Suddenly Erik stood up, his face going dark.

He looked at Charles, alarm masking his features and said. "He's gone after them."

⭑✶⭑

I sit in one of the leather armchairs, back in one of the many lounges found in the facility. Erik and Charles left last night, and still haven't returned. An air of uncertainty hangs over the building like a veil, and it weighs down on me like an anchor.

Sean sits to my right, his body spread out across the armchair. Raven and Angel sit opposite me, and Hank sits next to Sean. Nobody laughs. Nobody puts on any music. The only people who seem to be having any fun are Darwin and Alex, who play at an arcade machine behind me.

The machine makes a funny noise, and I crane my neck to watch the two of them. I don't say anything, but the way they smile at each other reminds me of the smiles my father and mother used to share on game nights. I don't remember much of them, but I'll never forget their grinning faces.

"Whoa." Darwin exclaims, and Alex laughs.

"All right, all right." Alex replies, impressed.

"Jesus, man, you are killing me." Darwin says, and I turn back around to face the group, a smile playing on my face.

"Don't beat yourself up." Alex says. "I've had a lot of spare time." I hold myself back from asking why he was in solitary confinement, but the question rests on the tip of my tongue. I look around. Raven is still upset from when Charles, Moira, and Erik found us in the lounge yesterday. I tried to talk to her, but she brushed me off in the hallway, going directly to her room.

Hank keeps glancing at her, and every time he sees me catching him, his cheeks go red. Ever since I said goodbye to Erik in the hallway, I can't stop thinking about them. My every thought fills with hope that they might actually capture Shaw. That Erik and Charles will return to the facility, and Shaw will be beside them, bound in chains, ready to answer for his crimes.

No one has told us anything, so my insides flip around nervously. They could be bringing Shaw back to base right now. Or they could already be dead. The hope dissipates quickly, left only with shaky hands and wavering breaths.

I look out the window, and two men walk past. I turn back around, my head snapping so quickly I fear I've gotten whiplash. The same two men who taunted me days ago stand before the lounge, peering inside, intrigued.

"Oh, I didn't know the circus was in town." one of them says, and his friend looks around the room. When our eyes meet, a flicker of fear makes it's way into my head, but it is shadowed quickly as his colleague continues talking.

"Hey come on, honey," he gestures to Angel. "Give us a little..." the man makes a wing motion with his hand. The other man stays silent, looking from his friend to us in the lounge. Even if he's quiet now, I won't forget the way he looked at me back in the hall. Like I was something foreign. Like I wasn't even human. Angel stiffens at his comment, her face falling.

"No?" the man says, then turns to Hank. "Come on, let's see the foot." Hank gets up from his chair. "There it is."

But Hank doesn't take off his shoes, instead he walks over to the side of the window and presses a button. The curtains slowly close as the man groans and whines as the drapes close on his amused face.

The room is silent. I hate those men. I hate the people here that look at me like I'm nothing more than an insect underneath their boots. Angel puts her drink back on the table, her jaw clenched.

Raven says. "They're just guys being stupid."

Angel looked at Raven. "Guys being stupid I can handle, okay? I've handled that my whole life." She looked out towards me and Sean. "But I'd rather a bunch of guys stare at me with my clothes off than the way these ones stare at me."

"At us." I say. My voice is timid and weak, but the three on the couch look at me and nod their heads. I remember the first time Shaw let me out of the places we lived in. It was 1 year after he took me from my home, and I was still weak after the first experiment. We had moved to Argentina, where Shaw was building up the Hellfire Club, his secret organization of tyrants. The first time I ever went outside, Shaw took me to a house along the river. It had a red door and pale blue shutters. Inside the cottage looked like a fairy house, pale and rustic.

Shaw led me up a set of wooden stairs and into a secret room hidden behind a bookshelf.

The first time I went outside since I was taken, Shaw made me kill the man in the military uniform.

I can still recall the look of revulsion on the man's face before I drove him to insanity. Like I was the demon that hid underneath beds and inside cabinet drawers.

My hand twinges inside my sweater pockets. I'm wearing a pair of plaid pants and a large sweatshirt too big for me. My hair is done up in loose braids, courtesy of Raven helping me this morning.

I pull out my hand, and darkness dances in my palm. I try not to show my pain as it's icy tendrils prick my skin. All of a sudden, the shadows morph into a strange shape. A person, distorted and kneeling, holding it's hands up to the sky in surrender.

Fear.

The energy hugs my vision, and I leap out of my chair, my drink shattering to the ground. Sean jumps up too, instantly coming to my side. "Are you alright?"

Somewhere in the distance, a low rumbling encompasses the earth. Thunder, probably. Head splitting pain bursts from my skull, breaking the walls I try to put up to protect myself. I feel sick to my stomach.

"I need... I need..." I stammer out. Sean grips my forearm, watching the darkness curl across my palms. "I need to use the restroom. Excuse me."

No one tries to stop me as I leave the lounge, heading down the pristine white corridor near the ladies washroom. The torment that flickers around my skull causes me to stumble across the bathroom to the sink, where a mirror rests across the black and white walls. I fumble with the knobs until burning hot water splashes into the sink. I bring it to my face. Sour bile spews out my mouth into the white marble, and when I look closer, it's tinged with black.

A small whimper escapes my lips. No, I think, Please stop! But the shadows don't stop. They course through the veins on my cheek like forks of lightning. What is happening?! Even though there isn't an open window in this room, a low grumble shakes the floor beneath me.

That can't be thunder. There's no way. So what is going on? There's a shout out in the corridor, though it's distant. I take one more look at my crumbling form in the mirror, then trip out the door.

Outside is normal, but more shouts sound from around the corner. There's a window several paces ahead of me, and a loud clatter sends me running towards it, hoping to see what's going on. When I get to the glass and peer out, my stomach drops, and I think I might puke again. Bodies litter the ground, blood pooling around their corpse-like forms. Across the Courtyard I see the lounge I was just in, but it's the figure standing inside the green field that makes my knees shake like rubber.

A man with a forked tail and red skin slits the throat of one of the guards. His dagger gleams in the moonlight, and he looks across the courtyard to where my friends are. I know that man. It was the same mutant that appeared in front of me most times I tried to escape and teleported me back to him. The same man who sat with me some nights and taught me to play cards. The same mutant who follows him.

I keel backwards, my feet falling from under me. I grasp the railing near the window, attempting to hold myself up. No no no no no no no. Tears blossom on my cheeks. I don't move, I don't even think I can breath.

More shouts seem to surround me. They close in on me until my heart shatters into a million pieces.

Shaw is here.

He found me.