Mystique's Journey

by Daniel A. Jones

  “How do you know?” Cynthia asked to prove she was paying attention to the topic. The idea of monsters in jump space was absurd.

  “It was common knowledge on my home planet,” Mystique replied.

  “Major, you had some questions for me,” Mystique stated, deciding to change the topic before she was asked about her home planet.

  “Yes. Your file mentions that you have increased bone density and muscle augmentation. I believe you have other enhancements. Would you be willing to tell me what they are?”

  “I will tell you what I know. I don’t know everything that was done. My father worked with the doctors and died before he had a chance to explain them to me,” Mystique told them, following the story Angelica and Daemon had come up with.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t genetic therapy normally only done on adults?” Cynthia asked, taking an interest in this part of the discussion.

  “The risk of psychological damage causes most hospitals to refuse to perform the procedure on minors, though from what I’ve read it actually works better the younger the patient,” Castleman explained.

  “There were problems with my treatment that kept me out of school, which is why I am taking the courses I am.” Mystique explained to Cynthia, feeling a little embarrassed about how lacking her education had been.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. We can talk about getting you special tutoring later if you like,” Cynthia offered, sounding genuinely concerned.

  “Thank you,” Mystique replied to Cynthia before returning to the topic. “I know I am faster than most people and strong for my size. Those abilities are easy to figure out. The hard ones are my ability to notice surveillance devices and traps and to walk through a crowd and have nobody remember I was there, and of course the thing with the cameras.”

  “Your file said you snuck a hunting knife into Ambassador Quinn’s office. How did you get it past the sensors?” Castleman asked, hoping that knowing how she’d done it would help him make sure it didn’t happen again.

  “I didn’t know there were any sensors, so I wasn’t doing anything special. I just hide it on my person as usual.”

  “You would be amazed how many weapons she has on her now,” Cynthia interjected.

  “Is there any way I could convince you to demonstrate some of these abilities?” Castleman requested, thinking that if he couldn’t get an explanation maybe he could see how she did it.

  “Sure, but first I need to use the restroom. I take it the nearest one is in the locker room,” Mystique replied, to which Castleman nodded.

  Castleman watched Mystique leave, closing the door behind her before he asked Cynthia what she thought of Mystique.

  “She is not your typical teenage girl. I thought she was lying when she first told me that she was enhanced, but not anymore, which leaves me wondering about the other things she told me,” Cynthia explained to Castleman. “She said because of the treatment she would kill me as easily as talk to me.”

  “Unlike everyone else, I have to think of reasons not to kill people,” Mystique stated, causing both Castleman and Cynthia to jump a little in surprise at her sudden appearance.

  “You wanted a demonstration. I used a marker instead of a knife. I didn’t think you wanted that realistic a show,” Mystique explained as she sat back down, smiling with pride.

  “What’re you talking about? What did you use the marker for?” Castleman demanded, annoyed that Mystique had been able to sneak into his office without him noticing.

  Cynthia hadn’t said a word as she noticed the black line drawn across Castleman’s neck. Instead she grabbed her purse and quickly dug out a small compact mirror she used to check her makeup. She used the mirror to check her neck and gave a sigh of relief when she found no mark on her neck. When she was done, she offered the mirror to Castleman and indicated he should check his throat.

  “Boija tamoi. I didn’t even feel you do that,” Castleman said, amazed as he examined the mark in the little mirror.

  Major Castleman was about to say something but was interrupted by a buzz from the intercom on the desk. He stopped what he was doing to trigger the button activating the device. “Major Castleman here. What’s the problem?”

  “Sir, did you take my candy bar? I know I am not supposed to have food in SCC, but my candy bar and marker is missing. If you didn’t take them, we have a problem.” The voice on the other end was nervous, but determined to report something unusual. Mystique took his question as a signal to start eating his candy bar, making sure Castleman noticed her doing so.

  “Jackson, I am enjoying your fudge bar as we speak. Out,” Major Castleman lied; he was actually feeling very vulnerable for the first time in many years.

  “You would be amazed how many people will open a door to look around if they don’t see the person that knocked,” Mystique commented by way of an explanation before taking another bite of the fudge bar.

  “I can’t disappear from sight if you’re watching me. But if I give you a reason to stop looking and think I am somewhere else, you’ll never see me coming,” Mystique said with what she thought was a big smile. The other two simply saw an evil grin flash across her face.

  “As head of security, I really want to lock you up and throw away the key. I also know a few members of the clandestine affairs bureau that would love to have you working for them. I guess it’s a good thing you thought of a reason not to kill us,” Castleman thought out loud.

  “I didn’t have to. Angelica told me not to kill any New Sydney citizen without her or Lawrence’s permission. Though, the inconvenience of the consequences of killing most people is enough for me to leave them alone. She also told me to cooperate with Lawrence and do what he asks,” Mystique informed them. Cynthia felt a chill run down her spine as she realized Mystique hadn’t been exaggerating about killing her. Major Castleman thought of the psychology lessons he had taken and realized Mystique was revealing a lot of sociopathic tendencies.

  “You always do what Angelica tells you?” Castleman asked, trying to get a better understanding of Mystique’s psyche.

  “Whenever I can, yes. You know she isn’t really my sister. We just said that to keep me out of the government’s hands. We were told that since I am a minor, the government would take me away and put me in a home for orphans. Angelica and Daemon are the closest I’ve ever come to having family. I would die to protect them, and they would do the same for me,” Mystique explained.

  “According to her file, Angelica can manipulate other people’s emotions. Do you think she did that to you, and that is why you feel so strongly about her?” Castleman inquired. If she was one, Mystique was no typical sociopath.

  “Major, I will warn you once—be very careful what you ask or say about Angelica and Daemon. If I think you are putting them in any kind of danger, I will kill you,” Mystique stated in her low predatory voice.

  “Angelica doesn’t like violence and hates killing. She understands that sometimes it’s necessary. She only uses her empathic abilities to keep people calm, cooperative, and safe; when you’ve lived in fear most of your life, those feelings are very powerful. When I am with her, I am not afraid and, maybe more importantly, I’m not angry,” Mystique continued.

  “I think I understand,” Castleman said solemnly. Cynthia sat quietly listening and trying to gain some insight as to how she could best use this information.

  “So, what are you going to teach me to make me a better killer?” Mystique asked with a chuckle, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood a little, but instead she caused the other two to become more concerned.

  ***

  The next few weeks past uneventfully as Mystique focused on her studies. Cynthia had arranged for special tutors to be available whenever Mystique requested help. Bruce had slid a letter under Mystique’s door explaining that he had spoken with his mother and that she had agreed to forget what happened as long as Bruce broke off all contact with Mystique. It’d been a hard decision but in the
end Bruce had decided to do as his mother wished. Mystique had kept to her word and avoided Bruce.

  Major Castleman tested Mystique’s physical abilities and found she had the strength of an adult male athlete and that her reflexes were unmatched by anything human or animal. He assigned two of his best hand-to-hand experts to figure out a combat style that would take advantage of her abilities. Major Castleman also showed her the basics of how to shoot rifles and pistols.

  Major Castleman had also requested that Mystique help him run some training drills on his troops. He would assign Mystique a room to break into and see if the guards could stop her. Later she would explain to the guards how she got by them and what they could do to make it harder for her. Major Castleman was rather upset the first few times, but his troops were learning fast and Mystique was starting to have a harder time getting by them. Mystique was enjoying the challenge and was also learning a few things about breaking into places.

  ***

  Chapter 4

  The Calm is Over; Time for the Storm.

  Cynthia was driving Mystique to the embassy for the weekend. Major Castleman had something big planned and Mystique was going to be staying at the embassy Friday and Saturday nights. So Cynthia would have the weekend off to prepare for her vacation. Mystique had surprised her by asking Ambassador Quinn to give Cynthia a week of vacation. Everything was going smoothly and Mystique assured the ambassador she wouldn’t get into any trouble. Ambassador Quinn had decided to put Cynthia’s vacation on the embassy’s tab. He’d arranged for the embassy to pay for her and a friend to fly first class to Summerset, where they were booked at a luxury resort. He’d even signed off on a five-hundred-credit-per-day expense account.

  Cynthia was trying to think about too many things all at once. She was driving more on automatic and not really paying attention to what was going on around her, so when she was hit from behind at a stop light, she was a bit confused. She instinctively looked over to see if Mystique was all right.

  “He just saved you a sore arm,” Mystique commented. “You were daydreaming again.”

  Mystique’s comment caused Cynthia to rub her arm. Mystique had been serious about hitting her for not paying attention. It’d only taken a couple of times before Cynthia made sure she was aware when she was with Mystique.

  “Wait here while I check the car,” Cynthia instructed as she got out.

  The driver of the delivery van that had hit her looked like he was searching his glove box for something. His passenger was chuckling as he sat back. Both were large men, but Cynthia wasn’t worried because it was just a simple accident.

  Cynthia bent over and started examining her bumper as the other driver got out. “It doesn’t look like—” Cynthia started to say as she looked around and up at the man. The man had a big grin on his face. Cynthia never saw the fist that shattered the side of her face. She’d turned just in time to make her the perfect target for Max’s downward punch. Max had a lot of experience punching people and knew how to focus his strength into bone-breaking force. His fist broke Cynthia’s cheekbone and jaw. If she lived, she would be disfigured for the rest of her life.

  Mystique had been watching in the mirror and had started moving when she first saw Max raise his fist. She didn’t have time to save Cynthia and didn’t waste time thinking how to try. Mystique hit the panic button that Major Castleman had demanded be installed in Cynthia’s car. Next, she drew two of her throwing spikes from their hiding places as she stepped out of the car. Roger started to say something, but Mystique wasn’t waiting to listen. The time for talking was before the violence started; now it was time to kill. Mystique threw both spikes with her right hand as she pulled a fighting knife with her left. The spikes hit almost simultaneously: one in the center of Roger’s windpipe, the second slightly to the right. Roger grabbed at his throat. Blood pumped out of the right side of his neck where the spike had sliced open his carotid artery.

  Max looked up in time to see his partner grab his throat. He stepped over Cynthia as he pulled his pistol. The boss had told him to kidnap the girl, but accidents happen. He hadn’t seen Mystique roll up over the car, so when she drove her knife into his spine just above his waist, Max’s face lit up with surprise. Mystique knew she was taking a chance not killing him with the first thrust, but she wanted him to hurt a little before he died.

  Before Max could get over his surprise and think, Mystique knuckle-punched him higher up the spine between his shoulder blades. Pain exploded in Max’s chest as his spine shattered under Mystique’s blows. Mystique didn’t stop and instead she continued to work her way up Max’s spine, pounding away and shattering disks and vertebra with every strike. For the final strike, Mystique flattened her hand and drove her fingertips into Max’s neck at the base of his skull. The increased density of Mystique’s finger bones allowed them to drive deep into Max’s skull. Mystique closed her grip on the back of Max’s skull before she yanked back with all the strength she could muster. The back of Max’s head exploded outward, covering Mystique in blood and brain matter.

  Mystique took a careful look around, trying to find anyone working with the two. A small crowd was forming to see what was happening. The people at the front mostly pointed, but none were willing to get close. A few got a good look and had to grab their mouths and turn away.

  Mystique knelt down next to Cynthia to check and see if she was still alive. Cynthia was having trouble breathing, but she was breathing. Mystique moved her into a more comfortable position and waited for the police to arrive. She could hear the sirens of the police cars getting loader and guessed they’d be arriving within a few minutes.

  Mystique’s phone began vibrating, signaling she had a call. When she pulled it from her pocket, she noticed she had missed two calls during the fight. “It’s over, I think. Cynthia is hurt pretty bad, and the two men who attacked us are dead,” Mystique stated, not waiting to find out who was calling.

  “Is the area secure? Are the police present yet?” Major Castleman asked.

  “I don’t see any other assailants and I can hear the police sirens. Is there an ambulance on the way?” Mystique said calmly.

  “Yes. The embassy troop transport is also on the way. I want you on that transport and out of there within minutes of it landing. Understood?” Major Castleman ordered.

  “All right.” Mystique thought about arguing, but decided there would be less hassle if she just did what she was told.

  “Good. Stay on the line, and don’t hang up until I tell you to,” Major Castleman instructed, a little of the edge gone from his voice. Mystique figured he had expected her to argue and wasn’t sure how to take her obeying orders so easily.

  “Freeze! Don’t move!” the police officer yelled from behind her. Mystique had seen him screech to a stop and jump out. He had his pistol out and aimed at her, which she found a little annoying.

  Mystique could hear Major Castleman instructing her to do as the policeman said and wait for his men. The policeman carefully moved forward, stopping about eight feet behind her. Mystique decided to turn and face the man, so she slowly started to twist at the waist. Even with her heightened reflexes, Mystique couldn’t dodge the officer’s shot; not while kneeling, at least. Two small darts slammed into Mystique’s back, discharging their electrical charge on contact. Each dart dumped a hundred-thousand volts of electricity into Mystique’s nervous system. Each was enough to stop a three-hundred-pound man in his tracks. Mystique’s enhanced nervous system could do amazing things, but a simple Taser shut it down in a heartbeat.

  Mystique lost consciousness, instantly falling face first onto the ground where her body convulsed for a few seconds before finally lying still. Michael Flanary knew exactly how much time he had before the real police showed up. He wasted none of it. He quickly hit Mystique with an auto injector containing enough tranquilizers to keep her out for at least six hours. Michael grabbed her cell phone from the ground and threw it in a wire mess bag designed to block any signals the
phone may produce. Finally, he hoisted Mystique over his shoulder and carried her back to the fake patrol car.

  Nobody at the scene thought twice about the police officer taking the blood-covered murderer into custody. The fact that he had Tased her only proved she was still dangerous. When the real police showed up, Michael was in the back of a cargo truck on its way out to the warehouse district. The ambulance crew showed up at about the same time as the New Sydney armored transport. Major Castleman had given orders that two guards were to escort Miss Swansong to the hospital while the rest secure the crime scene until he arrived.

  All of the troops present knew Mystique; some liked her while others didn’t, but all of them considered her part of the team. By the time Major Castleman arrived, tempers were running hot and the police were demanding access to the crime scene. The embassy guards had encircled the two vehicles, weapons at the ready.

  Detective Montgomery met Major Castleman at his grav car. “What’s going on here? Why are there men in powered armor keeping us from the crime scene?”

  “I’m Major Castleman, head of security for the New Sydney embassy.”

  “What does New Sydney have to do with this?”

  “A man claiming to be a police officer just kidnapped Mystique Grayson and assaulted a member of the embassy staff from an embassy vehicle,” Major Castleman explained as he started walking toward the vehicles. The memory of Daemon Grayson caused Montgomery to feel sick to his stomach. He could just imagine the wreckage Daemon was going to cause once he found out.

  “Do Daemon and Angelica know yet?” Montgomery asked, surprising Major Castleman a little with his knowledge of the Grayson family.