Port Victoria
Republic of Seychelles
One Month Earlier

They say that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. For Raven Darkholme, that's true. As the bullets exploded from the guns of guards wearing Hellfire Club masks and dressed in suits, the life of the woman who has gone by many identities flashed before her. Too quick to recall anything, just a rapid succession of random images from her memory.

But before she could feel the bullets tearing through her indigo skin, something large and heavy fell on top of her knocking her to the ground. She could feel hot breath on her neck, she heard a low growl and almost instantly, the weight had been lifted from her. She looked up and saw the form of a large man with long, blond hair, dressed in a trench coat with fur collar. His fingers were tipped with razor-sharp claws and he used them to tear the guards to ribbons, blood flowing freely like a shower of scarlet.

A lithe hand came into Raven's field of vision. She looked up at the source and saw a woman—slim, young, pretty—dressed in a black leather cat suit and holding a .45 in her other hand. Mystique accepted the offer and got to her feet.

“And who are you?” asked the shape-shifter.

“Prudence Leighton,” she said. “And that's—”

“I know who that is,” muttered Mystique.

And she did. Not only by reputation, but also personally and, for a brief moment, intimately. They first met years ago in Europe where they had a short tryst that resulted in the birth of Graydon Creed, famed human superiority activist and advocate of mutant genocide.

When they met again, it was in the government-sanctioned mutant strike force called X-Factor. Both of them forced to work with the team as a way to atone for their past crimes. He eventually escaped, nearly mauled the entire team. Needless to say, it wasn't pretty and X-Factor shortly dissolved after that.

His name was Victor Creed, called Sabretooth. Murderer, sociopath, mercenary, soldier, even X-Man. Last Mystique heard, he was at large somewhere in America. So just what the hell was he doing here?

Creed was as vicious and bloodthirsty as she remembered, tearing through the guards with quarter neither asked nor given. Although Mystique wished she could be disgusted at this display, in truth she was a little relieved to watch these men die well-deserved deaths.

A body fell before the two women and Sabretooth walked towards them, licking the blood from his hands. “Sorry you had t' see that.”

“No you're not,” said Mystique.

“Unfortunately it looks like we're a bit too late,” said Prudence. “Tessa and Astra have both left. With the Sentinel tech.”

“Would someone mind telling me just what the hell is going on here?” asked Mystique.

“You're in Port Victoria, that's my jurisdiction,” said Prudence.

“I know, Wisdom told me about you,” said Mystique. She pointed at Sabretooth. “I was referring to him. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Petey didn't tell you, eh?” asked Creed with a toothy grin.

“Tell me what?” asked Mystique.

“Pru an' me, we're your back-up,” said Creed. “Welcome to X-Force, babe.”

Marvel 2000 Proudly Presents

ASK DNA
Part Four

By Dino Pollard

Siberia, Russia
One Month Earlier

A small, private airfield served as their destination. The chartered plane touched down on the tarmac and the hatch opened, allowing the five occupants to set foot on Russian soil. Once he set his feet on the ground, Pete Wisdom breathed the air deeply.

“Smell that,” he said. “Fresh air. Nice, isn't it?”

He placed a Silk Cut cigarette between his lips and ignited it with the Zippo lighter he carried with him.

Maverick followed him from the plane, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. It was quite heavy due to all his gear contained inside. Brass and Weapon X each held bags, although not as heavy as Maverick's. Wisdom and Dust had simple, light sacks containing their clothes and personal items.

“We're here, now what?” asked Dust.

“Get ourselves a car, check into a hotel, and get a good night's rest before we go after Roman,” said Wisdom.

“Do we have any idea what we're going up against?” asked Maverick.

“Not a one, so as soon as we get set up, we go into research mode, find out what sort of bastard we're dealing with, see if SHIELD has any info on him,” said Wisdom. “I'm hoping the answer there is yes.”

A car sat nearby on the tarmac, unattended. Wisdom motioned to it with a jerk of his thumb. “My, my, it looks like someone has misplaced their vehicle.”

The five individuals approached the car and Brass opened the driver-side door. He looked up at Wisdom and nodded. “Keys are in the ignition.”

“How sloppy of someone,” said Maverick.

“Yes, quite sloppy,” said Wisdom. “We must do our duty as responsible citizens and take this vehicle to the local constabulary.”

“After we're done with it,” said Maverick.

“Of course, after we're done with it,” said Wisdom. “Besides, we'll only be making two stops on the way.”

They climbed into the car left for them by SHIELD. Brass started it up and almost instantly, the GPS activated, pinpointing the location of their hotel.

“That's convenient,” said Brass.

“Looks like our lucky day,” said Wisdom. “To the hotel, my X-Men!”

SHIELD Helicarrier
Positioned Over The Atlantic Ocean
One Month Earlier

A brand-new red Mustang streaked through the sky, flying at top speed. The wheels were rotated so they faced the bottom of the car, hovering on a magnetic propulsion system.

The flying car flew into the open hatch on the Helicarrier, touching down soundlessly. The driver-side door opened and a woman dressed in a blue and white SHIELD uniform with green hair and matching glasses stepped out.

The woman walked through the corridors of the SHIELD Helicarrier, left unobstructed on her path. Agents who saw her stood at attention, some moved out of her way. All of them wondered just what she was doing here.

She approached a door labeled DIRECTOR and pressed the call button. A gruff response came: {Who is it?}

“You know who it is, Colonel. Open the door.”

There was a brief hesitation and then the door slid open, granting her access. She walked up to Nick Fury, who sat behind his desk, a cigar between his teeth. She stood at attention and saluted.

“Colonel Fury,” she said. “Commander Abigail Brand, SHIELD Internal Affairs.”

“At ease, Commander,” said Fury. He motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Brand, taking her seat.

“You wanna tell me what this is all about?” asked Fury. “Not often we get a visit from IA up here. Especially not directly with me.”

Brand reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a memory stick. She handed it to Fury and he plugged it into a USB port on his desk. A holographic image appeared above the desk, showing a man familiar to Fury.

“Wisdom, Peter Winston,” said Brand. “Formerly of Black Air, Weird Happenings Organization, and the unsanctioned Excalibur. Assigned as commanding officer of Mutant Division Strike Team: X-Force, now disbanded. Current status: on leave.”

“Your point?” asked Fury.

“Sources show Wisdom has been busy lately,” said Brand. “He's been spotted in Seychelles and Genosha. There have been link-ups to the SHIELD database originating from Myanmar and most-recently, Thailand. I checked the roster, we have no agents currently assigned to either of those countries.”

“Could be a hack,” said Fury. “Wouldn't be the first time someone's tried to get in.”

“No, this was different,” said Brand. “High-level access codes were used, the kind that can't be identified for security reasons. We were lucky we could even trace the origin point.”

“What info was accessed?”

“Again, we don't know,” said Brand. “The access codes allow for a history bypass, so we can't see what files were accessed. It's the kind of code used by deep cover agents.”

“I already told you, we don't have any agents in Myanmar or Thailand,” said Fury.

“Then unauthorized personnel are using high-security clearance to access sensitive data,” said Brand. “And your indifference to this tells me you know something.”

Fury pulled the cigar from his mouth and exhaled the smoke slowly. “Actually no, it doesn't. I didn't become Director of SHIELD by panicking whenever things go south. I keep my cool, Agent Brand. Even in the worst of situations. I'm going to look into this and I'm going to find the bastard, that much I can promise you.”

Brand sighed. “Colonel, may I be frank?”

“Go right ahead,” said Fury.

“There's something strange going on with Agent Wisdom,” said Brand. “First X-Force disbands, then he goes off on leave. And he takes his leave in Africa and Genosha of all places. Shortly after that, reports come from Genosha that a prisoner there by the name of Del Ruiz is missing. Genoshan government blames it on the actions of a group called the Resistants, but we both know they don't have the stones for an op like this. And now, there's trouble in Myanmar and someone accessing SHIELD's database from Thailand. Meanwhile, a few agents are unaccounted for—not only Wisdom but also Agents North and Watanabe. North has a history of working with Wisdom, they've both been with X-Force since the beginning.”

“So what do you think?” asked Fury.

“I have a few theories,” said Brand. “None I'm willing to share at the moment, because I don't want to make any accusations.”

“Accusations?” Fury raised his eyebrow. “Who said anything about accusations?”

“I said I wasn't making any accusations.”

“But you think you may have to.”

Brand paused before she said, “if it comes to that, then yes.”

She stood from her seat and offered a salute. “Thank you for your time, Colonel.”

“One question before you go,” said Fury.

“Yes?”

“Someone accessing the SHIELD database wouldn't be enough to send IA a red flag,” said Fury. “So I'm curious—what brought this on?”

Brand simply smiled. “We'll be in touch, Colonel.”

Siberia, Russia
One Month Earlier

Wisdom turned on the laptop and linked to the SHIELD central database via satellite. He entered in the access codes given to him by Fury, which alternated on a daily basis. Once inside, he accessed the search function and in the advanced search, he typed: ROMAN, NILES in the name field.

He lit a cigarette as the search worked. A few moments later, the search came back with a result. “We've got a hit,” he said.

The rest of the team looked over his shoulder as he opened the file, The photo showed a man with reptilian skin and yellow eyes. “Ugly bastard, isn't he?” said Brass..

“And a genius at that,” said Wisdom. “Not to mention old.”

“He's been working with world governments on genetics since the thirties” said Maverick.

“A lot of his early work was the basis for Erksine's research,” said Wisdom. He scrolled down to read more of the file. “But it looks like he fell out of America's graces during the Cold War. Wanted to push the limits of human experimentation. America said no, the Soviets said yes.”

“He defected,” said Maverick.

“How is any of this connected?” asked Dust.

“Good question, love,” said Wisdom. “He pretty much vanished during the seventies. Means he either retired, died—”

“—or went underground,” finished Maverick.

“What's our plan?” asked Dust.

“We get into this gulag and it's a scorched earth operation,” said Wisdom. “I'm not too savvy on going full-throttle on this, but we don't seem to have much of a choice. Suran said Roman's organ harvesting is just to fund his other experiments, experiments that he performs for some very powerful friends.”

“Pete, could I have a word?” asked Maverick.

“For you Davy old son, I'll let you have a paragraph,” said Wisdom. He stood from the chair and looked at the rest of his team. “Get your gear ready to go. We move before dawn.”

Wisdom and Maverick stepped out of the motel room. They stood outside beneath the cover, snow starting to come down. “What's up, Mav?” asked Wisdom.

“This is serious, Pete,” said Maverick. “Going after Roman like this, I don't think we have the manpower.”

“What do you suggest, then?” asked Wisdom.

“Call in some help,” said Maverick. “Bishop, Shard, a strike team. We need heavy hitters and this group doesn't have it.”

“No can do,” said Wisdom. “For better or worse, we're on our own, mate. No back-up for us, we don't exist, got it?”

“I've got a bad feeling about this, Pete,” said Maverick.

“I know, but we don't have a choice.”

Port Victoria
Republic of Seychelles
One Month Earlier

Mystique sat off to the side smoking a cigarette as Prudence worked with a pair of pliers to pull spent bullets from Sabretooth's massive frame. Mystique still couldn't believe the nerve of Wisdom, bringing in Sabretooth without telling her. But of course, that was Pete all over, doing things his own way.

“So what have you found out?” asked Prudence, grunting as she dug at the shells.

“Easy!” growled Creed.

“Don't be such a baby,” said Prudence. The shell came loose and hit the ground, the metal now stained crimson.

“Sentinel tech has been smuggled out of Genosha,” said Mystique.

“What is this, some sort of build-yer-own-Sentinel mail-order thing?” asked Creed. He snarled. “OW!”

“Oh shut up,” said Prudence.

“Yer lucky I'm so docile these days...”

“Yes, you certainly proved that today,” said Mystique.

“Don't pull the morality card with me, frail—we both know they had it comin'.”

“To answer your question, the parts smuggled out aren't enough to build a fully functional Sentinel at least not on their own,” said Mystique.

“So why bother?” asked Prudence.

“Genetic scanners,” said Mystique. “Without them, a Sentinel wouldn't be able to discern a human from a mutant.”

“So? Who'd want those?” asked Creed.

“Are you that dense?” asked Mystique. “With those scanners, an anti-mutant government or organization could locate their prey with far greater ease.”

“Not only anti-mutant, there's also the ones who view mutants as a natural resource to be exploited,” said Prudence. “Like oil or diamonds, mutants are a valuable commodity depending on their powers.”

“It's more than that, some Sentinel weapons systems and other parts are contained in shipments as well,” said Mystique. “Astra is responsible for smuggling them out and now we know who's behind the whole operation.”

“Tessa,” said Prudence. “All available info says she's dead.”

“Don't mean shit, I've been dead before,” said Creed. “Dead don't stay dead in our world, frail.”

“He's right,” said Mystique. “It wouldn't be the first time someone we know has cheated death. But it's not only Tessa—did you see the masks those guards were wearing?”

“What about 'em?” asked Sabretooth.

“They're the same masks worn by guards at the Hellfire Club,” said Mystique. “And that Sentinel tech could only come from one place—Shaw Industries.”

“Shinobi Shaw...” said Prudence. “He and the Hellfire Club are behind this?”

“They are,” said Mystique. “And our first order of business is to go after him.”