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Stryker shook his head, no time to debate. Intelligence confirmed that Spider-Man wasn't a mutant, but Stryker personally wanted the vigilante in custody. But he didn't have time for custody; with a wave of his hand, his man stepped back, and Stacy slung her arm over his shoulder. As Stacy walked back, Stryker scanned the crowd for signs of a shooter. No one carried large bags or heavy coats. His radio crackled, and Stryker tapped his ear again.
" Commander , I found where the shooter was," said the dog-nosed blonde.
"Does Gibney smell?" Stryker asked .
"We were able to track him and we also found a shell casing, Hammer Tech ," Gibney said .
Reaching down, Stryker adjusted his radio frequency.
"All teams, the mutants may have fled into the sewers, once the winged mutant is in custody, a member of Force X will accompany each team to search for their accomplices," he explained.
He watched the winged mutant as he was loaded into the truck. Feeling a familiar tingling in his skull, he turned the radio back on.
The group has a telepath with them!
Charles opened his eyes. The few seconds he'd spent in the MRD commander's mind had given him an idea. Not just about Angel 's capture, but also about Stryker 's capability as a telepathic resister. The man would also be sensible enough to order his men to use a different escort route to their base. With Emma sitting beside him, he dialed Sage's number.
"Override mental block, emergency code - Stewart McAvoy 1940 to 1979," Charles said.
In Westchester, Sage's lesson with Jean was suddenly interrupted. A binary code invaded Sage's eyes, and she froze.
"Emergency code accepted!" his voice projected telepathically.
"Sage, Angel has been captured. Leave your lesson with Jean and go to the attic. We need to start tracking the MRD vehicle," he said.
"What can I do to help?" Emma asked, stopping when Xavier raised his hand.
He turned off the phone and put it back in the cradle near the radio. The radio's dials suddenly lit up, and the touchscreen flickered before going dark.
"We should rest, Miss Grey," Sage said, before leaving the classroom.
Jean looked to where Sage had been. She controlled her mind enough to know something was wrong. It wasn't a sudden surge of emotion; Sage was almost like a computer. They'd been going for hours, and Sage was never the one to suggest a break. Sage also didn't seem to mind that Jean followed her, climbing the stairs until she reached the top floor of the mansion. She stopped in the attic and took off her glasses. A red light suddenly illuminated her vision; a ladder descended from the ceiling, which Sage quickly climbed, followed by Jean.
They went upstairs to what was Sage's bedroom and main workspace. At first, it looked like a simple, spotless attic, save for the chair in the center. A long cable connected the chair to a telephone line. Sage sat down, putting on her glasses; binary code reflected off them. She rested her head back as the chair rose. As the lights dimmed, holographic screens appeared. Jean stared at them in awe and wonder: Facebook updates, street and police camera feeds, as well as phone conversations. Sage processed them all at once, obviously tracking something.
Scott counted and memorized every change of movement. Tommy guided him; his skin felt as thin as paper, but still very much like skin. Damp and cold from his daily routine in the sewers. His scent was similar too, but Scott noticed he used makeup and air fresheners to try to hide it. It was the same for Caliban and Sunder , and it must be the same for everyone in their "society." Cyclops used that term as he heard something open in front of him, as he heard the whispers of the people.
"Calisto isn't going to like this," he heard someone say.
"First-class scum!"
"YOU!"
Then he felt someone's arms around him, and a scent that was undoubtedly Todd. When the visor covered his eyes again, his suspicions were confirmed. Not just about Todd hugging him, but where they were. The place was definitely a hidden tunnel in the sewers, but it didn't look special. However, there were beds, curtains, sleeping bags, and numerous boxes, forming makeshift shelters and cover for privacy. There were even clotheslines. Some of the people Scott saw had hairdryers, but they weren't using them. They were too focused on him, and he on them. They were all visible mutants; Scott recognized the mole-like man from earlier. He also saw a skeleton surrounded by flames, a man with an ape-like jaw, and a man whose arms were like featherless chicken wings. Every person in the tunnel possessed a visible physical mutation, or a projection mutation that had altered their body.
"Welcome to the Alley," Tommy said.
"When they told me the tunnel was going down, I got nervous. Annalee almost put me back to sleep if Healer didn't talk him out of it," Todd explained.
"Him?" Scott raised his eyebrows in confusion.
"Convincing, right? Well, let me explain. You see, a lot of these guys are like me, right? Well, some aren't, but they're outcasts in other ways," Todd said, taking Scott by the shoulder and leading him toward an area surrounded by curtains.
"Where is Calisto?" Caliban asked a young man with a mohawk.
"Scouting with the attackers, hey Erg, when did they leave again?" the boy shouted from the other side of the tunnel.
A lanky, dark-haired man pulled a sleeveless T-shirt off his clothesline, put it on, and adjusted the fabric over his right eye.
"About four hours ago, there's a good chance you heard the commotion on top of Ray," he said.
"Shit, who do you think is going to react worse, Callisto or Sarah?" asked Ray, the one with the mohawk.
"She hates it when you call her that," Tommy said.
"That's his real name," Ray snorted.