El Scorcho (twbasketcase) wrote,
El Scorcho
twbasketcase

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FIC: Hostile Takeover 9/18 - Part 2/2

Category: X-Force
Characters: X-Force -- Shatterstar, Siryn, Sunspot, Rictor, Cannonball, Domino, Warpath, Cable, Boomer, Moonstar, Feral, Magma, and Deadpool.
Pairings: Rictor/Shatterstar, Domino/Cable, Sunspot/Magma. Minor Warpath/Siryn/Deadpool and Cannonball/Boomer.
Genre: Alternate Universe, Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Romance
Rated: NC-17 for extreme violence, language, dark themes, sexual situations (het and slash), and character death.
Disclaimer: I don’t own a damn thing; I’m just playing for awhile.
Summary: A well known terrorist organization has made its move, and its dictatorship starts with the fall of the country’s greatest heroes. A few make it out alive, but they are on the run and in for the fight of their lives. Who lives and who dies? And where do you go when there’s no where left to hide?

Chapter Summary
: The group goes on the move to seek out the infamous 'facility'.

Part: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roberto sighed angrily as they stepped out of another small room housing two patients. He and Jimmy had snuck into every one they could manage to access, but had little luck in gaining any answers. Most of the victims were still recovering from their injuries, and were not at all trusting enough to release any information regarding their attacks. HYDRA had succeeded in literally scaring the hell out of all those they came upon, and it only left the boys frustrated and answerless.

 
Jimmy followed out of the room a few moments later, and quietly pulled the door shut behind him. “What was that about!?” he hissed.

 
“What do you mean?” Roberto replied flatly. “That clown was useless. Couldn’t even answer a single damn question! What’s with people these days and not accepting help!?”

 
“His jaw was wired shut!” Jimmy snapped. “You have to be a little patient with that sort of thing, you know? It’s not like he can get just jump up and sing a Broadway song about the day HYDRA threw a bomb on his head!”

 
“Well things would probably be a lot easier if he did,” he Brazilian huffed. “At least then I wouldn’t feel like I’m running around in circles trying to talk to these morons.”

 
“They’re scared!” Jimmy defended. “And you’re acting like a huge asshole. These people lost their homes and families just like us, so I think you should try and act a little more mature and respectful.”

 
“I’ll give people my respect when those HYDRA bastards are dead once and for all.”

 
Jimmy grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around so that they were chest to chest. The bigger man was positively seething at Roberto, so the Brazilian powered up. Warpath, however, did not at all look fazed. “You have a problem, Bobby? Because you’re acting like a total dick and it’s not helping anyone! You say you wanna get these guys, but you aren’t even putting any effort into looking for them!”

 
“Speak for yourself! If it was my choice we’d be out there searching for them, not talking to a bunch of burn victims!” he yelled, pushing Jimmy back by the chest.

 
“Some of those burn victims are our friends and team mates!” the Apache man shouted back, pointing a finger in the smaller man’s face. “And you can go out looking for a fight, but that will only get you killed and you know it!”

 
Roberto spun around and threw his fist through the wall, showering the floor with plaster. A few heads around the facility popped up wearily to look at the scene, and it made Roberto scowl. “What the fuck are you looking at!? Get back to work and do something useful!”

 
Jimmy grabbed Sunspot by the shoulder and slammed him down into a nearby chair. A few moments later, Sam came out into the hall and shot his best friend a worried look. The sight of him caused Bobby to settle down somewhat, but he still had to avert his eyes. He felt like he was falling to shambles, and he did not want to hear the lecture that was most likely coming from X-Force’s deputy leader. Sam sure knew how to keep his cool during times of distress, and Bobby could not follow that lead even if he wanted to.
 

“‘Berto, what the heck are ya doin’?”

 
“Nothing, I’m fine,” he scoffed.

 
“Yoah fine, but there’s a super sized hole in the wall and yoah screamin’ up a storm,” the blonde pointed out and folded his arms. “Somethin’ on yoah mind, pal? And why ya all powered up?”

 
“Yeah, there’s something on my mind! We should get the hell out of here and do something useful! We’re practically hiding in here, and now that we have you guys back we should be fighting!” the Brazilian folded his arms and huffed. “We’re useless here!”

 
“Sure we are,” Sam agreed.

 
Roberto blinked. “Huh?!”

 
“Well of course we are!” Cannonball shook his head. “But we’re not here foah us, Bobby, we’re here foah Ric and Terry. What good’ll it do to go out and fight with them in bad shape?”

 
“I don’t know!” he scowled.

 
Sam plopped down in the chair next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look, Ah know that things have been rough foah everyone – you especially – but cussin’ up a storm and breakin’ the hospital ain’t gonna help you or anyone else. The doc said we only have tah stick around foah a few hours tops, so ya’ll just haveta sit tight ‘til then.”

 
Roberto sighed. “Are they gonna be all right?”

 
Sam nodded. “Yeah; we’re lucky we got here when we did or else it’d prolly be a different story.”

 
Bobby nodded and looked up at Warpath. “Sorry, man.”

 
“It’s okay,” Jimmy replied. “I’m just gonna check out the last room, all right? You just chill with Sam for a few minutes and cool down.”

 
The boys watched the big man turn and walk into one last room to talk to another patient. Bobby and Sam sat in relative silence for a few moments before the Kentuckian spoke up again. “Yoah not all right.”

 
“What gave you that idea?”

 
“Ah can’t even begin to understand what yoah goin’ through, ‘Berto, but Ah know yoah strong enough to shape up until the mission is over.”

 
“And when exactly do you think that’s gonna be?” Roberto snapped. “Because by the looks of things, it’s not going to be over until we’re either dead or mass genocide happens!”

 
Sam bit his lip. “Ah don’t know. Ah’m sorry, but Ah don’t. But ya know Ah’d give ya an answer if Ah had one; Ah hate seein’ ya hurt this way.”

 
Roberto finally powered down and leaned his chin in his hands, eyeing the cramped and busy corridors of the facility distantly. He did not want pity, he really did not, but hearing such words come from Sam hit him so much more closer to home than anything Terry, Jimmy, or ‘Star had said. Roberto missed and needed his best friend more in the last two weeks than he ever had in his entire life, and to finally have him there made things a just a tiny bit easier to deal with. Sighing, he turned back to the blonde and frowned.

 
“All I can say, Sammy, is that I hope for your sake Tabby’s all right. Because right now I don’t feel like there’s even a single other thing in the world worth living for besides killing those assholes.”

 
The Kentuckian frowned. “Bobby…”

 
“Hey boys!” Jimmy’s voice boomed from the room, cutting them off from their conversation. Sam and Roberto shot each other a look before getting to their feet.

 
“Y' all right, Jim?” Sam questioned and jogged into the room he had previously disappeared into. Roberto quickly followed him, and when they got in the door and saw what waited in the bed for them, Roberto immediately powered back up again.  
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<  

“Looks like a minor concussion and a small hairline fracture of the wrist. The burns appear to just be superficial partial thickness.” The short, plump woman gave Theresa a smile, and held up a small vial. “You’re a very lucky young lady; with explosions you could have been much worse. This container here contains a small dose of regenerative blood sample. If you like, I could inject some into your blood stream, and you’ll be back to full health.”

 
Domino nodded and turned to look at Terry. “I feel like this is an ‘I told you so’ moment.”

 
“Shut up,” the redhead rolled her eyes. “Do ye really think that’s necessary, ma’am? I dinnae want tah be takin’ somethin’ that would be better suited for someone with more serious injuries.”

 
“Well I would recommend it for your arm if not anything else,” she replied. “Especially if you’re going back to fight those monsters like you said.”

 
Terry shot Domino a look. “Ye just had to start yippin’ on about war stories, didn’t ye?”

 
The merc shrugged and grinned stupidly at the nurse. “Don’t mind her. She gets pissy every time she bumps her head.”

 
“I dinnae!” Terry glared. “Ye act like I do it often!”

 
“She needs a helmet,” Dom stated simply.

 
The nurse chuckled and turned back to the counter to prepare a syringe. “You girls sure do have a lot of energy for a group that ran all the way here from the U.S.

 
“You know adrenaline,” Domino smirked, and tossed her feet up on the chair across from her. “It works funny! Besides, I think I’m lucky. I didn’t bump my head. Terry did though.”

 
The Irish woman just rolled her eyes irritably and looked at the nurse. “Ye have any sedatives?”

 
“Are you tired?” she questioned, voice filled with concern.

 
“Nae, but I’d love to not have tah listen tah that one over there anymore!” she thumbed over to Domino.

 
“You girls bicker so much one would think you’re sisters,” the nurse chuckled. “But you hardly look anything alike, and your accents prove otherwise. Where are you from, anyways?”

 
Ireland,” Terry replied flatly.

 
Domino raised her eyebrows and smiled. “I’m from Cancun. Can’t you tell from the tan?”

 
The nurse just shook her head amusedly and gestured for Theresa to hold out her arm. The redhead did as was told, and watched closely as red liquid swirled through the needle before disappearing completely into her arm. She was still somewhat uneasy about the treatment, but figured it was better she took it than have Domino on her case. Of course, the joking was a nice change of pace from the angst fest that had gone on in the cave, but it was obvious that it was just a cover up to help the girls deal with their fear and stress.

 
“Was that difficult, girlie?” the merc questioned.

 
“Nae, are ye happy?” Terry shot back.

 
“Oh, I’m throwing a party,” she quipped.

 
“Oh will ye can it and hand me my clothes, please?” Terry rolled her eyes and gestured to the pile on the chair next to Domino.

 
“Actually if you don’t mind remaining in the gown until the process is complete that would be best,” the nurse smiled apologetically. “We have to monitor your injuries to make sure they heal properly – just in case you end up needing anything else. The burns you have are still tender as of right now, so we just want to be precautious.”

 
“Yeah,” Domino grinned. “Besides, the paper bag princess look really suits you, too. I think it should be your new uniform.”

 
Theresa face palmed. “Sometimes I think ye pair us together just tah drive me nuts.”

 
“Actually I just need a break from testosterone every once in awhile, but that reason works too,” Domino smirked and leaned back in her chair. “I wonder what those boys are up to anyhow. I hope they’re keeping out of trouble.”

 
The nurse perked an eyebrow. “Did you come in with a group of boys around her age, mostly tall, muscular, and wearing too many pouches?”

 
Domino’s shoulders slumped as she readied herself for the update. “Those would belong to me. What did they do now?”

 
“Besides whip out guns, punch a hole in the wall, threaten our staff, and nearly topple the roof down?”

 
Domino winced. “Yeah. Besides that.”

 
The nurse gave her an annoyed look. “I think one of them urinated on our front step because he couldn’t find a bathroom.”

 
The merc sighed. “Never mind. Those don’t belong to me.”

 
As if on cue, a loud crash came from the hallway, and it caused the Domino to scowl. The nurse regarded the two girls with a concerned look, and turned toward the door. “There’s yelling going on. Perhaps I should go see…”

 
“Você quer uma guerra?! Você pode tê-lo!”

 
Domino and Terry looked at each other and sighed before the redhead jumped down off of the bed. “Unless ye want tah deal with an angry solar radiation controller, maybe ye should let us handle it.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The ceiling was old and moldy looking; water damage had soaked the thing and stained it almost the entire way around the room, and it did not make it seem like a great place for antibacterial procedures. But no matter how gross it looked, Rictor would not take his eyes off of it. It was better than looking around the room and looking at Shatterstar, who had been standing there the whole time while he had practically flipped out like a fucking baby. Why couldn’t those doctors have just left him alone?

 
“You’re looking better already,” the warrior spoke, low and accented from across the room.

 
“Well why don’t you stop looking and give me something to fucking wear,” Rictor snapped irritably. “Dios, you’ve only been freaking standing there while I’m ass naked for however the hell long now.”

 
“I can’t even see anything; you’re covered,” he bit back, just as testy as Julio sounded. “And it’s not even like I stood here looking at you that way while you were almost dying, Rictor. That would be kind of disturbing, no?”

 
The Mexican turned his head slightly and let his gaze fall on the warrior. He stood leaned against the wall with his arms folded over his chest and had a tired look on his face. “Sorry, amigo. I’m just a little pissed off still.”

 
“I figured,” he muttered, and pushed off the wall to sit next to the bed. “I know that must have bothered you, but you had to be treated. You’ll live now.”

 
“I know,” Rictor sulked.

 
“But like I said, you look better already,” he whispered, and slowly raised his hand and let it trail across Rictor’s formerly injured neck. The Mexican shivered at the touch, but did not stop him. “It looks like a mere scar now – the burns, I mean. You’re lucky.”

 
“Yeah, I could’ve looked like Wilson,” Ric mumbled. “I still kinda feel like crap though. It feels weird healing so fast…almost tiring.”

 
“I wouldn’t know,” Shatterstar admitted. “I do not know what it’s like to heal slowly.”

 
“True,” the Mexican chuckled, and turned his head to look at his friend when he had finally pulled his hand away. “I won’t lie though, embarrassment aside, I’m kinda relieved I’m getting better now.”

 
“Hmmm,” the warrior hummed. “That’s good; I’m glad too. However, there’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about. Human biology is what it is and that’s not your fault, Julio.”
 

“I think I almost puked on you like eight times in the past couple of days.”

 
“You got my shoes twice,” Shatty pointed out with an irritating smirk, and it only made Ric blush furiously. “But whatever, Rictor, it’s just puke. It’s not like it means death for me or anything. Besides, I was much too busy concerning myself with you to worry about it too much.”

 
“Yeah, about that…”

 
“What about it?”

 
“You…really didn’t have to do that. I mean, you like to fight and stab people and shit, not baby-sit battle-retarded morons like me,” the Mexican scoffed and peered back up at that dirty looking ceiling once more.

 
“It was part of my mission to watch out for my team mates,” the warrior replied, tilting his head to the side. “And, more than that, you are my very best friend, Julio. I told you once already that I would not let you die. I do not see the purpose in having to repeat myself to you.”
 

“I know…it’s just…” Rictor shifted awkwardly, and adjusted his sheets. “I acted kinda…I said some things that…”

 
Silver eyes softened, and the warrior frowned. “Things you did not mean, right?”

 
“Yeah,” Ric nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah, exactly. I probably just sounded like a babbling moron and you didn’t even know what I was talking about…and I was kind of a dick.”

 
“Are you talking about the death stuff? Or are you talking about the other more emotional things that you were saying -- about caring?”

 
Rictor felt his face flush, and he immediately averted his gaze once more. “Uhm…”

 
“How is everything going in here?” a new voice thankfully interrupted and Rictor slowly looked up to see his doctor approaching once more. Brown eyes dropped nervously down to the needle in his hand. “Are you feeling any better?”

 
“A little,” Rictor admitted, and sunk deeper into his pillow. “Can I get dressed now?”

 
“If you just let me check you over once more, I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” the doctor nodded. Shatterstar sighed and stood up, giving the older man some space to work. Rictor just clenched his jaw and stared up at the ceiling as prodding hands ran over his skin, and he had to keep coaching himself not to freak out at the man’s treatment. In his mind, Ric knew he was just trying to do good, but constant flashbacks and memories to his time with the Right made it very difficult for him to hold steady. It was bad enough that they were sticking him with needles left and right and pumping him full of drugs, but they had taken his powers away too. The last line of defense that he had left was gone, so the poking and prodding was even more uncomfortable than before.

 
“How does your ankle feel?” the doctor questioned, as he dug his fingers deep into the flesh there. Rictor hissed loudly at the feel, and jerked up to a sitting position.

 
“Fuck off!” he yelled. “I don’t know, cabron, but I think maybe the freaking bruises are an indication that it’s still fucked!”

 
“Yes it appears your transfusion is taking care of the superficial injuries a lot quicker than the deeper ones, which is normal, but perhaps we should give you another dose.”

 
“I--”

 
“Julio, just take it,” Shatterstar sighed.

 
Rictor glared. “You take it!”

 
“I don’t need it,” the warrior blinked.

 
The Mexican scowled at the doctor. “Fine, do it, but you better not fucking stab me like that last asshole did. Just make it quick so I don’t blow chunks again.”

 
The balding man shook his head at the choice language. “Would it make you feel better if I gave you a lollipop to suck on when I’m done?”

 
“I’ll give you something to suck on all right,” the Mexican growled, and then yelped when the doctor dug the needle tip into his arm. “Shit! You’re about ready for some knuckle sandwich, pinche culero!”

 
“Julio,” Shatterstar warned again.

 
The doctor injected the rest of the transfusion, and straightened back up. “Well two doses will probably get you about half way there. Without the third you may still experience a bit of fever and the slight remnants of the pneumonia you had. However that should be good enough to rid of the burns, so if you just sit tight for about twenty more minutes, you should be able to get dressed after that time.”

 
“Good,” Rictor sighed tiredly.

 
“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” the doctor said. “I’m just going to get you one more dose of Ketek.”

 
“Swell,” the Mexican rolled his eyes and watched as the man walked out the door. Shatterstar eyed him as well, and turned back to Rictor with a grin.

 
“I stole his lollipops.”

 
Rictor chuckled and sat up. “Yeah, like you need sugar, amigo.”

 
“I like the red ones,” he continued gleefully, looking awfully proud of himself.

 
“Well you better save me a purple one, jerk,” Ric shook his head and sat up, holding his sheet against his groin as he jumped off of the bed. “Help me find something to wear.”

 
Shatterstar just looked at him, and it made Rictor squirm under his gaze. “All they left in tact was my coat, Julio, which you can wear, but it won’t cover your butt.”

 
“Shut up,” he snapped and looked around. “There’s gotta be something around here…”

 
Shatterstar manoeuvred past the naked Mexican awkwardly and approached the cabinet on the back wall. He pulled open the doors and let his eyes trail down the shelves. There were piles of junk and random things – probably stuff left behind by other patients. The warrior began throwing the stuff onto the floor, and blinked. “Here’s something.”

 
Rictor looked down at them. “But where did they come from?”

 
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, and picked up a pair of pants that looked to be about a size 44 waist. “I don’t think these will fit you.”

 
“What about those?”

 
Shatterstar picked up a pair of small black shorts, and eyed Rictor. “These will hardly keep you warm.”

 
“Whatever,” Rictor snapped and snatched them away. “It’s better than being naked, so….turn around and don’t look at me while I change.”

 
The alien rolled his eyes and continued digging through the cupboards as Ric quickly dropped his sheet to the floor and pulled the shorts on. They were very tight and did not even reach mid way down his thigh, but they were better than nothing – even if they left little to the imagination. The fabric was itching against the healing wounds on his hip and thigh, but not bad enough that Rictor could not stand it. Folding his arms over his chest, he waited for the warrior to find him a top.

 
“Here’s a hospital gown,” he turned and held out a blue piece of fabric, and the promptly stared down at what Ric was wearing. “Uhm…are you sure you want to wear those?”

 
Rictor glared and jumped into the massive pair of pants from earlier. “If it bothers you that much I can just wear these!” he shouted, and pulled the large jeans up his legs. Glaring, he let go of them, and they fell down around his ankles. “Yeah, because these will totally help me move, ‘Star!”

 
An awkward pink coloured the warrior’s cheeks and he handed him the hospital gown. “Point taken. I was just trying to be helpful.”

 
Rictor felt his own face burn and he threw the gown on over his shoulders and tied the back. It was not much, but it would have to do until the team could hook him up with something better to wear. The lack of clothing, however, was only making things weird with Shatterstar, and the Mexican kept his gaze on anything that was not him.

 
“You were supposed to wait twenty minutes,” the warrior stated, thankfully changing the subject.

 
“Don’t care,” Rictor muttered and looked around for his boots. He grinned happily when he found them under the gurney, and put them on his feet.

 
“Look, Rictor-- Julio…” Shatterstar stepped in front of him and held still, hands placed gently on the tops of his shoulders. “What about…?”

 
Rictor swallowed, but then just as quickly cursed as the boys were once again interrupted by voices. Their team mates seemed to be shouting about something outside the room, and the Mexican looked up at the warrior curiously. “What the hell's that all about?”

 
“I don’t know,” Shatterstar muttered, and stepped in front of him as they approached the door. He peered out into the hallway cautiously, and cursed under his breath when he realized all of the staff were fleeing the building out the back way. The shouting became louder, and the bigger man turned to face Rictor. “Stay behind me; your powers are of no use right now.”
 

“I ain’t about to go running in front of you!” Rictor scoffed, and squeezed his face between Shatty’s arm and the doorway. “What the…?”

 
Shatterstar leapt out into the hallway and unsheathed a sword off his back as he followed the sound of the voices. Rictor followed closely behind as best he could; exhaustion still swam throughout his body, and the staff crashing into him as they fled did not help. But he maintained his balance for long enough to turn a corner down into a new hall, and they stopped when they reached the first door on their right. Terry stood wearing only a hospital gown and a pair of red underwear, and Domino had her hand placed on the butt of her gun as she watched the people in the adjacent room.

 
“What’s going on?” Shatterstar demanded.

 
Domino nodded toward the door, and the boys peered inside. Sam, Jimmy, and Roberto stood angry and powered up around a smug looking patient sitting in a bed. At first, Rictor could not understand what the deal was – the guy was sick looking, just like him – but then he noticed that the man had gun in his hand.

 
“It’s much too late now, mutants. The end is near and destiny shall now set forth. There’s nothing you can do except to accept your fates as slaves to Lucifer, and may your final days bring forth pain and suffering.”

 
“Let me finish him!” Roberto yelled.

 
“What’s your deal?” Domino demanded, keeping her hand securely on her weapon at her waist. “We’re not here to hurt you; we just want to know what the hell you’re muttering about.”

 
“The end is near, and you will all be the first to go,” he laughed, and opened up his shirt. A strange looking wire was taped to his skin, and he gestured to it. “All hail HYDRA.”

 
“Fuck!” Domino snapped.

 
“And now my purpose is done,” he laughed wildly. “Your end is near, and I have served my leaders.”

 
Rictor’s eyes widened in horror as he watched the man lift his gun to his head.

 
“Don’t do it!” Domino yelled, and cocked her weapon. But the man did not listen or stop. He simply pressed the barrel against the flesh of his chin and pulled the trigger, spraying the window behind him with scarlet and brain matter. The teens winced at the sound, and Domino began grabbing at them. “Go! Run! Get the hell out of here now!”
 

“We don’t even have clothes on!” Terry protested. “We’ll freeze!”

 
“Go!” Domino screamed at her. “Get back to the van! You can worry about being cold later, I’m more worried about the fact those fuckers will probably have this place surrounded any second now!”

 
Madre de Dios,” the Mexican cursed as the team scrambled to move out of the halls. Everyone who had them pulled weapons, while Sunspot powered up. They were ready to battle if need be, but the first priority was to attempt an escape; Lord only knew how many agents would be dispatched, or if they would even be able to take them all on. It only figured that the team had been distrusting of the doctors when it never occurred to them that a spy could be planted somewhere less expected.

 
They reached the front door and barrelled down the steps together, but promptly stopped when they were met with the faces of a least one hundred emerald clad HYDRA agents. Domino came out the door last and cursed.

 
“Fuck! Rictor! Knock them back!”

 
The Mexican swallowed irritably. “No can do, boss.”

 
“His powers are gone!” Sam exclaimed. “What do we do?!”

 
“Fight!” Roberto and Shatterstar yelled.

 
“Stand down, muties!” the apparent leader called over a megaphone. “We have you and this entire building surrounded. Retreat peacefully and you’ll be left unharmed.”

 
“That’s bullshit!” Roberto yelled. “They’re lying!”

 
“They killed everyone else on impact,” Jimmy reminded. “Maybe they aren’t lying.”

 
“Fekt! We cannot barter with these cowards and allow them to lead us into a trap!” Shatterstar insisted. “We must engage battle now!”

 
“Domino!” Theresa turned to the merc frantically. “What’ll we do!?”

 
“Don’t let them take us!” Rictor pleaded.

 
“We can’t beat this many,” Sam pointed out.

 
Domino cleared her throat and raised her arms in the air before slowly dropping her gun to the ground. She did not look at the team as she did so, only spoke loudly. “Put your weapons on the ground, and stand down. Do what they say. There’s too many of them.”

 
“Shit!” Roberto yelled, and raised his hands in the air. The rest of the teens silently mirrored his actions, and all of them dropped to their knees in the snow with their hands behind their heads.

 “Lock ‘em up!” the leader ordered. “And I want all powers nullified. Someone contact Baron von Strucker and let him know that X-Force has been apprehended.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Go to chapter ten.

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