The Companion Picture - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Dandelion
Last updated: 12/03/2009 06:26:08 PM

Chapter 15

"These are the times that try men's souls," Raven Darkholme, more commonly known as Mystique, said to her reflection in the mirror. "If Forge won't let me have my fun on my terms, then I'll make my fun on his." She flipped through a small notebook full of names. "James Granger, Department of Justice," she read aloud.

"Well, Jimmy, what secrets do you have waiting to be found out and exploited?"

She set the notebook down and closed her eyes. "James Granger is a middle-aged man, of medium height and build," she described him as if speaking a mantra. "He has sandy brown hair, with a hint of gray, styled a decade behind the times." As she spoke her own crimson hair shortened and lightened so that it was exactly as she described.

"He has slate gray eyes with green flecks..." As she described the man, she became him.

"This is a race, Raven," she told herself.

"Me against Forge's toy. Go."

She turned and sat at the computer, poised to start opening files, and began working on pass codes. The computer took a visual scan of her and approved her appearance. <10 seconds,> she thought, her fingers flying on the keyboard. She electronically rifled through the memos, pausing only to print out the encoded ones. <20 seconds,> sweat formed on her forehead. She was in a state of mild discomfort at this point.

The computer beeped and flashed a message.

--Confidential: Class QV44.06 Retinal Scan Commencing--

Mystique leaned close to the scanner concentrating even harder than before to make certain that everything was just as it should be. The computer beeped again. --Scan Complete; Accepted--

The file opened up. <30 seconds,> Mystiques head was pounding. She hit print screen and got out of the files and fell back in her chair with a painful gasp.

Her form reverted to normal. She rubbed her temples thinking of a dozen ways to make Forge suffer for the torture she was currently suffering through.

<A nap and some government secrets will help take this headache away,> she thought. She took the small stack of printed memos to her quarters and congratulated herself.

<Five memos in thirty seconds, *including* a retinal scan,> she thought smugly. <Not bad, not bad at all.>

A catnap, a long soak in the tub and a cup of hot tea and Mystique was feeling normal again. She fed all of the memos into her computer via scanner and waited while they were decoded. The decoder she got from her days of cohabitation with Forge. As grateful as she was that he gave her a place to stay when she wasn't capable of taking very good care of herself, she couldn't let the opportunity slip by her.

As soon as she started regaining her faculties again, she poked around and took what information she could.

The decoder was a particular gift from heaven. It could crack anything she plugged into it.

"Okay Jimmy, what dirty little skeletons do you have in *your* closet?" Mystique tapped at the keyboard and pulled up the first message.

>In reference to Black Pyramid: virus-l effects on genealogical tests conclude proof positive. Initiate series NR-39/2Q protocols. Reticent locks in place: activated.<

"Black Pyramid," Mystique mused. "That sounds promising." She pulled up the next message.

>Virus-L, research commencing on importance and possibilities for advantageous use. Sections R7.009 and 5F-CV available for resourcing and archiving information.<

>Lassiter<

"Virus-L again? Hmm. Sections R7.009 and 5F-CV are database libraries," Mystique rubbed her chin. "I wouldn't mind seeing what's in them. I can't say I like the sound of these 'tests' and the research." She sat back and stared hard at the screen. "Something about that is striking a chord," she shifted her weight in her chair. Virus-L seemed so familiar, she didn't like the sound of it, and she knew she didn't like the interest in it. For the life of her, Mystique couldn't place where she knew of it, and that bothered her more than anything. She moved to the next message.

>Lassiter:<

>Virus-L effect on homo-sapiens information solid. Genetic codes still awaiting confirmation. Factors essential to program analysis. Mutant information available.<

>Granger<

Mystique got a bad taste in her mouth. "They're talking about the Legacy Virus," she realized. She felt her nerves twitch. Instinct told her she was walking into a lion's den. What started as a pleasure cruise into a possible corrupt officials files began to feel very urgent. She started a search. //Find: Virus-L Five messages were the result. Five messages that she had loaded into the computer. Mystique couldn't explain it, but the hair on the back of her neck rose as she flipped quickly from message to message. >Virus-L suitable for genetic warfare.< >Studies commencing on Virus-L effect on x-factor.< >Virus-L, 100% fatal.< Sweat beaded on her forehead at the last message.

>Special ops termination imminent. Virus-L suitable for genetic warfare. Mutant threat can be dealt with. Abort government association with factor-x.<

"Special ops?" Mystique's eyes went wide. "That's us. That's X-Factor. They're shutting down X-Factor." She scrambled out of her chair and ran to the window, half-expecting to see someone watching her from the streets. She shook her head. "That's it. That is it! There is no way, I'm sitting here waiting for some bigot to shut me down," Mystique's mind was racing.

She pulled out her ragged list of contacts and began flipping through it. Names of people she had dealt with over the years on page after page. Many were dead or missing. There were those she had vowed never to call on again.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Raven," she told herself. "You should know that."

Some small voice in the back of her mind wondered if she out to tell the rest of the team about what she found, but Mystique quelled it. As ever, Mystique looked after Mystique. The rest could rot. <My picking are slim,> she thought, as she looked over the list of available, and most likely, contacts.

Back at her computer, she sent out e-mail to those she thought she may be able to reach. <The quicker the better,> she thought. <I want out before they decide to experiment on me.>

Three messages bounced back immediately, with notifications of non-existent addresses. Mystique ground her teeth. "I know undergrounds are supposed to be incognito, but these addresses were nearly fool-proof."

Mystique spent the rest of the day trying to access her contacts. A few she was never able to get a hold of. A couple told her she was unable to be trusted and therefore not welcome. Some mentioned that if she was so desperate as to come calling then the trouble that was following her was probably not something they would be ready for.

Raven Darkholme stared at the computer screen, >Special ops termination imminent...genetic warfare...mutant threat...abort government association with factor-x...genetic warfare...abort government association...special ops...termination imminent...abort...abort...abort...<

Her back was against the wall. There was no other alternative.

Forge read the printout that Mystique unceremoniously tossed on his desk. His look turned dark. "What is this some kind of joke?"

"Am I laughing, Maker?" Mystique's voice was unusually harsh.

Forge reread the message. "Where did you get this, Mystique?"

"That's not the issue --"

Forge stood up, his voice rising, "That *is* the issue, Raven. Tell me how you got this or I will drag it out of you!"

Mystique's eyes went cold, "I knew this was a mistake."

Forge sucked in his breath, "If this is authentic, Raven, I need to know about it. Tell me where you got it and how."

There was something in Forge's tone that suggested that his request was not up to discussion. Mystique sat down, "I morphed, and used the retinal scans and visual scanners to get into the files."

Forge heard the tone of pride in Mystique's voice. If the situation wasn't what it was he may have called her on it. "Did you get anything with it?"

"There are four other messages, between Granger and this guy Lassiter, every message mentions the Legacy Virus, or virus-L, whichever you want to call it. They talk about research and experimentation," Mystique's voice trailed off. "I want out, Forge. I didn't sign up for this job, but I'll be damned if I sit still and wait for some cronies to turn me into their testing ground for a genetic war."

Forge kept re-reading the message. He knew James Granger. He was never very friendly, but Forge would never have expected him to be working on something of this magnitude. "I'm not about to allow that to happen to you, Raven. Or anyone else for that matter."

Mystique felt a little relieved. Perhaps this meant that Forge was on her side.

"However," he continued. Mystique huffed a little. She should have known it wasn't going to be as easy as that. "I'm going to need a few more details before I start panicking. This message is a little sketchy. It's vague. The possibility that it has been misinterpreted is --"

"Slim!" Mystique shot out, arms folded across her chest.

Forge nodded, "But there. Look, Raven, my instincts are the same as yours, but I need more. I want to know if these guys have support. I want to know how much. I want to know where they are and what their game plan is."

"Good luck, Maker."

"Oh, I don't know," Forge looked at Mystique. "You can get it."

Mystique paused, "Are you suggesting that I actually use my powers to break in?"

"I'm adaptable."

Mystique's respect for Forge went up a notch.

"What did you have in mind."

Forge sat and looked at Mystique for a long time. <You'd better be right about this, Forge,> he told himself. <If this situation plays out to the worst possible scenario, you cannot afford to be wrong about this woman.>

"You're the only one who can gain access, Raven," he told her.

"That's probably true," she agreed. "But I can only stay in certain forms for slightly over 30 seconds, thanks to you."

Forge silently congratulated himself on the success of his device. "I realize that. That's obviously going to have to change. Don't get your hopes up!" He noticed Mystique's expression turning a bit smug. "I have no intention of removing that inhibitor from you, until we are out of this mess. If then."

Mystique narrowed her eyes.

"I have an idea, though." Forge stood up and went to the door. "I'll get a hold of you when it's ready."

Mystique absolutely hated it when Forge took on the bureaucratic tone he had now. She scowled to herself and got up. "If I'm still here," she replied breezily as she headed to the door.

"You'll be here, Raven," Forge said, confidently. "You have nowhere else to go." She stopped and glared at him.

Their eyes met.

<He's right. Damn him, he's right!>

Mystique's thoughts were like cannons in her mind. She turned and stormed out, to her room and the messages that she had stolen, that predicted a very dark future indeed.

<If this is right,> Forge didn't want to think about the possibilities. Unfortunately, the message made too much sense. Since the world's introduction to the Legacy Virus, Forge had been waiting for backlash from somewhere. If the Department of Defense showed an interest in the virus, Forge could think of precious little reasons why they would want it. The ones he could think of were harrowing.

<A viral weapon. A weapon that preys specifically on the mutant population,> Forge shuddered at the thought. He was all too familiar with the idea of genetic warfare. <When the Europeans first came, how manyNative Americans died as a result of the diseases they brought with them? It wasn't intentional, but I'm certain that the conquerors were the last to complain. What kind of genocide could take place with a purposeful release of a fatal virus?>

It was something he didn't want to think about. Forge locked up his office and headed to his workshop, one of the few places he could comfortably think alone. Besides, he had work to do. He had to ensure that Raven could have more time to get information on the systems.

<And if this message is confirmed?> He asked himself. <What then?>