Asylum *HF* Chapter 3
By collaborative
Jacob Kendall - 21. Escaped patient from the Weissman Institute for the Criminally Insane. Shapeshifter. Assassin. Characteristics of a sociopath. Consider dangerous.
Sharon Stokes - 21. Escaped patient from Weissman Institute for the Criminally Insane. Creates fire and has flight capabilities. Has tried to commit suicide in the past. Violent temper. Consider dangerous.
Markus re-read those two again. Both escaped the Weissman Institute? Interesting. He reached over, picking his phone up. “Yes, Miss Lewis. I would like for you to contact the Weissman Institute for the Criminally Insane. Please ask them to send the files they have for a Miss Sharon Stokes and a Mr. Jacob Kendall.” Markus hung the phone up and continued to peruse the files.
Celeste Alexander - 17. Was wanted for the murder of her father and stepmother. Charges have since been dropped. Shapeshifter. Shows defiance when ordered. Keep close eye on. Nothing else is known at this time.
Charlotte Sometime - 19. Tried to commit suicide a year ago. Appears to be in a state of depression at all times. Powers are unknown. Expendable.
Markus sat back in his chair thinking. Alexander? Something sounded familiar with that name. He looked at the accompanying picture of the girl. She looked like someone he had seen. He slowly sat forward, a slow smile of realization upon his face.
_ _ _ _ _ _
The science lab that Markus was currently surveying was furnished with the latest in technology. After obtaining some of the enemies technology, he and his scientists were able to counter that. In fact, he was hoping to get some more of the same from the new group that had been brought in. Of particular interest was Miss Alexander. He knew that she had high priority in the Grey courts security measures. All the more reason to talk to her, loosely speaking.
He was listening intently as the scientist before him went over all the new drugs that they had brought to a semi-finished result. Some of this was new to him entirely, while others were combinations of substances that had been worked with before.
“Basically, Mr. Markus, the new drugs have been untested on huma….”
Markus held up his hand to silence his colleague.
“Please remember. These are not humans.”
“Uh…yes sir. These new drugs have not been tested on the subjects at hand yet. It is unknown what effects they will have on them.”
“Well now. I would assume that there is only one way to find out. What about you?” The scientist looked at him confusedly and Markus smiled. “We have two subjects who have just arrived who are well qualified to be the lab rats if you will.”
“Is that wise?” The man asked with eyebrows raised.
Markus said nothing as he walked around the man. He picked up a syringe that was filled with a dose of one of the new substances and examined it for a moment. “I believe there is another question that you have not considered.” He said as he took hold of one of the underlings and jabbed the needle into his neck, emptying the contents. There was a moment of stunned disbelief from the hapless young man before he went into a fit of convulsions. “ Is it wise to question my authority?” His tone was low and cruel. Markus did not wait for the doctor’s reaction. He threw the needle by the young man one the floor and left the room.
The head scientist walked over to the notepad Markus had left sitting on the table and stared at the two names written on it. He turned to face the two remaining assistants and sighed.
“Please have a different medication distributed to a Sharon Stokes and Jacob Kendall everyday. There room numbers are listed here. Just make sure you don’t take them easily. They are considered dangerous.” Dr. Smith looked back down at the young man who was now unconscious on the floor. “Take him to a secure room.”
_ _ _ _
It had taken eleven days of slow progress of which no physical results could be shown. Bobbi had a knack for such things as finding people, but it took time. They had begun from New York and her senses had lead them down the east coast to North Carolina. When she was sure they were close, Daemon parked the car off of an old country road. The team had packed light, so there wasn't much to unload. They then continued on foot in the direction she indicated, being sure to stay well out of sight of any passing cars. About an hour into the trek, they came to a clearing. Nearly five hundred yards into that was one enormous complex.
Bobbi had no doubt that that was where the lost team was. MG surveyed the building through a set of high power binoculars that gave her the details as if she were standing right in front of the place. There was an outer wall that was probably about fifty feet high with coiled barbed wire topping it. The building itself was pretty non-descript. It wasn't quite like a prison, though there were bars on the windows. The grounds were well kept with what looked to be courtyards. She was making a mental note of everything when she glimpsed a large bronze plaque that was bolted to the outer wall. The Markus Institute and Asylum, it read in bold, engraved letters.
"Shit!" she hissed and brought the glasses down.
No one was happy with this new information. Given what they already knew about the man, the situation now dictated extreme caution. They needed to know all the defenses and the team’s exact location. Hawkeye bet everything he had that every single "patient" in there was a mutant. He needed to know the interior layout. In other words, he needed to get someone in there to bring the information back.
That was going to be a big problem. Markus likely knew the face of every member of the Grey Court. Did he know about the other courts? Surely he would guess that where there is one, there are others, but how much information did he really have? Was he trying to extract that information from his team? Torture, both for his pleasure and his cause was a very real possibility. That also meant that when they had the info they needed, they would have to organize a rescue mission expecting no help once their own people were free.
The four made their way back to the car. They couldn't risk being discovered, so they headed to the nearest town that was about fifteen miles away. There, they checked into a cheap little motel where they could get some serious planning done. The first thing Hawkeye did was to call the Citadel and make sure Scrib had everyone prepared. She did of course, and at the mention of Markus, had decided to double the weapons list. That was fine by him. No sense in being under prepared. That only left the point of getting someone on the inside.
"I see no reason not to call Darkwolf back and see if he can spare anyone. They've already gotten involved," MG offered. It was a good idea, but Hawkeye was still a little hesitant. Finally, seeing no other way around it, he made the call.
He filled Darkwolf in on everything they knew so far. "Well, Mo has got herself pretty worked up over this so I'll send her. I don't want her going alone though so I think I'll send Greg over as well." The two kings discussed the best way to get them in. It didn't take long for them to agree on a method. The two would be acting as parents of a girl who was emotionally disturbed, had an overwhelming "fascination" with fire, and was unhelped by the institute she was currently in. They would have to work up the specifics, make a file for the girl, as well as tap into the phone line. It was a sound plan, and that taken care of; the two would arrive at the motel in the morning. He was going to have Greg call and make an appointment to speak with the administrator about admitting the little girl. Darkwolf would call him back and let him know the results of that.
In the mean time, Marvel Girl and Bobbi set to work on creating a file and history for the girl they decided to name Annie. An hour into their work, Darkwolf called back. The appointment was set for eleven a.m. the day after tomorrow. That was good considering they had a lot to do. Everyone remained occupied well into the night. MG and Bobbi with the file, Daemon and Hawkeye with the equipment for this little jaunt. They checked, double-checked, and triple checked the weapons and electronics. They were going to be receiving back audio and visual information when Mo and Greg went in. The more informed, the better. They couldn't afford to screw this up. God only knows what would happen to their people if the two spies were found.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Greg and Monet arrived at the motel by eight that morning. Monet was eager to get started.
"Coffee anyone?" Bobbi asked as she walked out with a tray of several cups of steaming liquid. She had made it a bit strong because she was sure no one had slept well, herself included. Greg sauntered up and removed one of the cups with an eager thank you.
"I doubt she was addressing you 'Lord of Coffee'," Mo chided. Greg gave her a hurt look.
"It's 'God of Coffee', get it right. And she did say 'anyone'." He downed the contents all at once, and then smiled.
"Great. Now you've done it. He'll be bouncing off the walls at any moment." Came MG's sleepy, but good-natured reply.
"I don't care what he does so long as he's productive," Hawkeye replied.
"There, you see, the voice of sanity," Greg said with a measure of satisfaction.
Marvel Girl laughed. "That coffee has fried your brain if you think he's something of an authority on sanity."
They all laughed, but it didn't last long. There was plenty of work to be done and barely enough time to do it. Daemon separated out all the tools and equipment he was going to need for the first job of the day.
"Have you decided where this girl is currently receiving treatment?" he asked.
"Valley Regional in Tennessee. Why?" Marvel Girl replied.
"I need the phone number." Bobbi rummaged through their notes for a moment, then walked to Daemon with a small slip of paper. He took it and one of the devices he had pulled out and sat down.
"What's that?" Mo asked, the intrigue obvious in her voice.
"This is our phone tap. It'll isolate the number I program into it and transmit the call to a special phone," he explained. He handed her what looked like a cell phone.
"Nifty. And no one would ever guess this is anything other than a regular cell phone."
Daemon nodded, then picked up his own phone. He pushed a single button and waited for an answer on the other end. "Scrib. I need to have one of the technicians hack into the system for Valley Regional Medical Center in Ocoee, Tennessee. I need to know what their letterhead looks like and their fax's number. When you get that, send it through to the laptop." He paused a moment, then hung up.
"What good will that do you?" Mo asked. "I understand the letterhead, but the rest about the fax is unusable. Each company's machine is unique."
"It wouldn't do us any good, except that I have another little toy that will give any fax machine the specifics I want it to have." He grinned. Oh, the wonders of technology.
By noon, Hawkeye and Daemon had left to plant their device. Daemon was programming the thing to remain passive until ten forty-five the next morning. At the motel, Bobbi was typing up the files on the laptop. MG was busy fitting Mo and Greg with their electronics. The beauty about their technology was that not even government anti-eavesdropping scans could pick it up. If such precautions were in place at the Markus Institute, it wasn't going to matter. It wasn't even visually detectable. Monet was given a pair of glasses that had one small rhinestone on each outside corner, one of which houses a video unit. A clip she would wear in her hair housed the audio unit. Both had their own transmitters built in courtesy of the most amazing micro-technology in the world. Greg's tie clip would have his vid-unit and his audio in one of his collar buttons.
"Oh, goody. Do I get a phone in my shoe as well?" he asked.
Marvel Girl and Mo just looked at him a moment. Mo shook her head then reached up and smacked Greg in the back of the head.
"Hey, OW!" He looked at her a moment. "Ya know, a simple 'no' would have sufficed."
"That question didn't deserve a verbal response," Mo retorted.
"Ok. That's all I can do for the two of you," MG said as the handed them a stack of notes. "Why don't you start memorizing the details of your daughter's life."
Greg obviously couldn't help himself. "Aw, honey. We have a little girl." He mocked tears, "I'm just such a proud, proud papa," he ended with a sniffle.
"You wanna get smacked again don't you?" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Don't answer that," she added quickly.
"That's just basic information. Add to it if you like, just make sure you both know what you've added," MG told them. Greg gave her a puzzled look. "You know. Childhood experiences. You were a kid once, go from that."
"Yes, but...I'm not a girl," he said in all honesty.
"That has yet to be proven," Mo muttered. Greg glared at her but she returned it with an innocent smile.
"Alright you two. You don't want this to sound quoted, so you have a lot of work to do." The two headed off to a corner of the room to get acquainted with their 'daughter'. That currently left MG with nothing to do. She tried to relax for a few moments, but she was far too nervous. So, she did the next best thing. She removed the two cases of weapons that they had brought and set them on the bed. She opened the first one and began to strip down and clean each weapon. She looked for any flaws of damage that would make them unreliable and, of course, found none. Their weapons were kept in the best of condition.
The exercise was meditative. She could have done it blindfolded if she wanted to. She fell into a rhythm of working and shut everything else out of her mind. Her sole focus was her task. She was oblivious to the time. Suddenly, she was finished. She blinked, and then looked up. It had taken nearly three hours to do both cases of weapons. She hadn't even noticed Hawkeye and Daemon's return until then. They must had the good sense to leave her be, or else they had just returned.
Something else caught her attention. She was hungry. Correction. She was starving, and something in the room smelled wonderfully like food. Daemon must have read her expression because he tossed her a brown paper bag with the McDonald's logo on it. She smiled her thanks and made short work of the meal.
By nine that evening, everyone was ready. All the documents for their fictitious patient were printed out and ready to be faxed. Monet and Greg had everything memorized with their own flourishes added. Annie could have easily been a real girl and their daughter. All the equipment was checked one last time, since you could never be too careful. Confident that they had done all they could, everyone went to bed early. Tomorrow was going to one strenuous day.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Yesterday they had been fine with all this. Somehow, the danger just hadn't hit home. Now in the car on the way there, Monet was feeling just a little nervous. Greg didn't look to be affected just yet. Of course, that could have been a result of the coffee he had. He'd limited himself because of the obvious attention he would draw to himself. Still, it didn't take much.
They pulled up to the gate where a guard waited. "Mr. and Mrs. Davis to see Mr. Markus," Greg told the man. He smiled and was directed to the visitor parking area, which was considerably small. Monet was thankful for MG's skill with their makeup. They actually looked old enough to be the parents of an eight year old. They had id's to prove their age too. They had accomplished quite a bit in a single day, but now came the hard part. The two got out of the car and walked to the small inner gate, which was opened for them by another guard. The moment they passed through, both felt their powers being blocked. The nervousness Mo had been experiencing en route was now bordering on panic. Greg was basically experiencing something like withdrawal. His coffee induced energy gone; he was in the low point most people experience when they come off caffeine high. Both managed to keep their fear masked. They had to get this done as much for themselves as for the missing Grey members.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Markus had watched the approach of the couple. Their hesitation and change in demeanor did not escape him. Funny that that happened right where the power-dampening field began. I wonder if... He kept his questions behind a carefully arranged mask. He would have time enough to determine for himself the nature of these visitors.
Markus sat patiently in his office pondering the possibilities. If what he suspected were true, what would his course of action be? Unfortunately, he was very limited in that area at the moment. With the State Department of Health hanging around, all he could do was smile and watch two more threats walk out his door. That irked him to no end. Those blasted government officials seemed to pick the worst times to make their appearances.
At that moment, his secretary beeped his phone and announced the arrival of his eleven o'clock. "By all means, let them in," he said smoothly.
Janet and Gary Davis, he was sure those were fake names, entered his office, looking a little reluctant. Markus stood and greeted each with a handshake. At this point, he was watching their every move. If they confirmed his suspicions, he would find a way to keep them there.
The formalities over, he motioned them to sit in the chairs provided as he sat back in his. "What brings you the Markus Institute today?" he asked quietly.
"Well we...it's...our daughter." Gary stammered. "She has some problems."
"Explain these problems to me." Markus sat back to listen.
"Well...she...she has this fascination with fire. She thinks she can create fire just by thinking about it. At first we thought it was harmless, just some overactive imagination. But then..."
"Things just started to catch fire!" Janet cut in. "W-we thought she was playing with matches or something. We didn't know what to do."
"We tried to get her to tell us the truth. She's always been such an honest child. But she kept saying it was accident that she created."
"And what did you do?" Markus asked at the pause.
"Well...we punished her for lying of course, and for disobeying us," Gary answered.
Janet nodded nervously. "The burnings didn't stop though. They happened more often. We kept punishing her and she...she just kinda withdrew from us. She got angry and quiet."
Janet went silent and was fidgeting madly with her purse strap. Her husband was also very fidgety. The more he watched them, the worse it got. They're hiding something... Markus thought to himself.
"You are both quite...unique," he chose that word for effect and thus lingered over it a moment. Their nervousness increased, just as he expected. "Has your daughter ever tried to demonstrate this so-called ability to you?"
"Once," Gary said simply.
"And..." Markus pressed.
"A pillow caught fire without her being any where near it." Gary sounded as if he couldn't believe his own words.
Markus watched as both their nervous reactions increased still further. They were avoiding his gaze as much as possible. He had to be right. Suddenly Janet broke, but it wasn't the way he expected.
"Why is this happening to us?!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face. "Are we bad parents? What did we do wrong?!" She looked ashamed through her weeping. "It's not fair! It's not fair to us and...it's not fair to Annie!" She said nothing else. She only cried.
Gary looked on the verge of tears himself. He buried his face in his hands and took a few shuddering breaths. For a moment, Markus was stunned. He was now forced to re-think his entire view of these people. This kind of situation was doubtless very stressful. That could explain their obvious growing anxieties as they told him their story. But what about the power dampening field? His mind whispered to him. He knew enough about the human mind to realize that some things could cause instant depression. Perhaps the sight of the asylum had done it. It was possible, and given the couple's reaction, probable. If their reaction were faked, he would consider them the best actors in the world.
_ _ _ _ _ _