Issue #113
Weapon Plus Part 1
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Professor Charles Xavier and his X-men fight for peace and understanding in a world that hates and fears them. Over the course of this fight, the conflict between humans and mutants has manifested in many ways. Some have been more deadly than others.
For much of this conflict, authorities have tried to contain mutants. Some efforts have been overly ambitious, like the Sentinels. Others have been more diplomatic, like the Mutant Security Agency. As the brainchild of General Nathan Grimshaw, the MSA was supposed to be the police force that held mutants accountable to the law. But Toad’s recent escape from Fort Leavenworth Prison exposed significant deficiencies in that system, which some are all too eager to exploit.
One program that tried to contain mutants in a particularly brutal manner was Weapon X. This program was behind the likes of Wolverine and Sabretooth. However, the inability to control these living weapons was the program’s downfall. That doesn’t mean the concept has been abandoned. In recent clash, Wolverine came face-to-face with a new version of Weapon X. He called himself Fantomex, but his roots are in a much bolder program known as Weapon Plus.
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Undisclosed Location – Two Weeks Ago
“Today is the day, Reverend. All our hard work has led to this moment,” said Colonel Wraith as he stood beside Reverend William Stryker.
“It’s about time. I put a lot of faith in you, Colonel. And so far I’ve seen little in return,” said the reverend.
“That all changes today. You’re about to see firsthand the fruits of our labor.”
Reverend Stryker still found it difficult to trust Colonel Wraith. He was right up there with the devil himself in terms of being trustworthy. At least this time there was something tangible to go on. Thanks to a very gracious Graydon Creed, they finally had the resources they needed. With his Purifiers providing the manpower and Creed providing the funding, they assembled what promised to be the solution to the ultimate mutant menace.
Like Weapon X before it, this plan brought them back to Canada. Instead of a government lab, they set up shop in an old factory owned by Graydon Creed’s company. Despite being a fugitive, he still had access to considerable wealth in offshore accounts. His family also owned a number of businesses and those in Canada faced far less scrutiny than those on the other side of the boarder. This particular factory was once used to manufacture pharmaceuticals, making it perfect for this ambitious undertaking.
Graydon Creed had been working day and night since he was freed from prison. Under Colonel Wraith’s guidance, he paid to renovate this factory to the necessary specifications. Once completed, the finished product to the form of an elaborate setup based around a special gurney. From that gurney, a series of elaborate wires and tubesfed into a semi-circular dome just above the area. The interior of this dome was covered with lights, pumps, monitors, and an array of advanced genetics equipment. It had all the marks of a Weapon X project. However, this one wouldn’t be nearly as crude.
Outside the dome was a row of computers where this ambitious process would be tightly controlled, something that had been lacking from its predecessor. The mind behind that control was the eccentric yet brilliant Arcade.
“Check one, check two, check twenty, and I can now say that every server is officially online,” he said proudly from behind the main console, “For once, our computing needs will not be an issue.”
“That’s the luxury you can afford with a payroll like mine,” said Graydon Creed, who was going over a final check-list, “With the right connections, you can access all sorts of components that aren’t in your typical Best Buy catalogue.”
“Does that mean you can get me an early prototype of the new iPhone?” asked Arcade.
“I could, but I prefer to use my wealth in a more productive manner.”
Creed thoroughly surveyed the work surrounding the elaborate setup. The Purifiers had been working for twelve hours straight alongside a few specially contracted technicians he had bribed for their assistance. While Arcade set up the computers, much of the work was focused on the dome over the gurney. Dozens of laborers and technicians carefully configured every part of the array. The bulk of the components were in place. Everything just needed the proper fine tuning.
“Give me a final status check and don’t hesitate to voice concerns. You won’t be making any less if we have to delay this any further,” Creed called out.
“No need this time, Mr. Creed,” said one of the technicians confidently, “The pumps and IV drips are ready.”
“So is the mutagen dialysis interface,” announced another.
“We’re also wired up with plenty of juice,” said one of the workers, “The generators are going full throttle.”
“That means you should be getting your first round of data, Mr. Arcade.”
“It’s coming in as we speak and processing a million times faster,” affirmed Arcade, “We’re only missing two more ingredients at this point.”
“Then I suppose it’s all on Colonel Wraith’s shoulders now.”
Graydon Creed gave the Colonel a thumbs-up to indicate they were ready. Wraith nodded and signaled towards the side entrance to the research area. On command, the door opened and three Purifiers entered with a man in a wheelchair. Reverend Stryker had to look away when the man came into full view.
It was not a pretty sight. The man was horribly disfigured. His legs were frail and atrophied, his spine was bent awkwardly, and half his face was horribly scarred. This man was someone who had taken the brunt end of a brutal war. Wraith told him a bit about this man ahead of time. His descriptions didn’t do justice to the gruesome details.
“It’s time, Monsieur Jean-Philippe,” said Colonel Wraith as he welcomed the wounded man, “I hope you’re as excited about this treatment as the rest of us.”
“Don’t p-patronize me, C-Colonel,” said the man, stuttering heavily through a frail voice, “I use t-t-to only get excited when I-I had a mission or a woman, which e-e-ever came first.”
“Make it through this and you’ll have plenty of both,” assured Wraith, “That little stunt you pulled in Balkans rendered you wounded and impotent. Now you can get that vitality back, but it will come at a price.”
“I-I-I’ll pay it, gladly. I-I refuse t-t-to be a cripple. But know t-t-this. I’m nobody’s t-t-tool. I-I-I’ll be your soldier. I won’t be your s-s-slave.”
“I’m not asking you to be more than we need you to be. This is for mutual benefit, remember? You get what you want. I get what I want. The lesser details can be sorted out later. Now save your breath and your strength. You’re going to need it.”
The crippled Jean-Philippe tried to get more words out, but ended up going into a coughing fit. That was an unpleasant side-effect of having lungs burned from chemical weapons. What he had to say was inconsequential at this point. He already made his decision. Colonel Wraith didn’t force him like he had with Wolverine and Sabretooth. This was different and hopefully better for both sides in the long run.
Colonel Wraith stood back with Reverend Stryker and watched the Purifiers go to work. They wheeled the wounded soldier into the array just as the workers and technicians retreated behind safety barriers. The system was ready. It began and ended with this unfortunate yet fitting volunteer. He was pretty frail, looking like he little strength left in his wounded body. He keeled over into more coughing fits while the Purifiers were helping him onto the gurney.
“He seems oblivious,” commented Reverend Stryker, “Did you give him the full story?”
“I told him what he needed to know. That’s it,” said Colonel Wraith.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“I doubt that would change his mind. Jean-Philippe wasn’t crippled at birth. He was born and raised in France. He moved to England where he joined the Royal Marines. It’s the only place a man like him could make a semi-honest living. I say semi-honest because for much of his life, he was your typical underground fighter. In the marines he got paid to fight dirty.”
“I figured he wasn’t the stereotypical European pacifist,” said the Reverend.
“He’s nothing of the sort,” said Wraith as he watched the Purifiers wire Jean-Philippe up with IVs, “Being a soldier didn’t just allow him to fight. It made it easier to follow his second great passion.”
“Let me guess. It’s something that involves explosions.”
“Not quite, but close. It involved women,” said Wraith with a grin, “He’s what men in your trade may call a professional hedonist. He did what made him feel good and never apologized for it until it came back to bite him.”
“Do I even want to know the details?” said the Reverend.
“It’s not as nefarious as you think. He was part of a counter-terrorism unit in the Balkans. While on a routine incursion, he had the misfortune of being caught in an ambush involving chemical munitions. Of his twelve-man squad, only he survived.”
“Lucky devil,” said the Reverend.
“Not really,” Wraith retorted, “He probably wishes he hadn’t survived. He’s been living out of a veteran’s hospital for the past five years. Wounded and disfigured, he can’t fight anymore nor can he woo women as he once did.”
“And somehow that qualifies him for being the first subject for Weapon Plus?” questioned Reverend Stryker.
“When you see the end result, you’ll realize how irrelevant that question is.”
Reverend Stryker looked towards the Colonel curiously. He enjoyed being coy when it came to his plans, which rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. It was part of what got him demoted. However, the Reverend was willing to overlook this provided Weapon Plus delivered the holy weapon it promised.
Once Jean-Philippe was strapped in, the Purifiers retreated behind the safety barriers along with the workers. As soon as they were set, Arcade and a few technicians proceeded with the next step. The machines were already humming with activity. The large dome over the gurney lit up with various electronics and started lowering so that it covered the wounded soldier.
“Is-is this normal?” Jean-Philippe called out from the gurney.
“We know what we’re doing. Don’t make us overthink,” said Graydon Creed from outside the dome, “Mr. Arcade, are we ready?”
“Just did a quick diagnostic. We’re all set,” affirmed Arcade from behind his console.
“Good,” said Colonel Wraith, “That means I can add the final ingredient.”
While Stryker and Creed got behind safety barriers, the Colonel approached a specific area on the outer section of the dome. In his hand was an unmarked briefcase he had been holding since they arrived. The contents within were rare and precious. He had to go to great lengths to obtain it, but it was painfully necessary to make this work.
With careful hands, Colonel Wraith opened up the briefcase and took out a cylindrical canister. Inside was a silvery blue substance that was as exotic as it was potent. After checking the substance, he carefully loaded the canister into the specific slot.
‘Shanobi Shaw may have screwed me over at the prison. At least I returned the favor. I doubt even he knew about this sample of techno-organic material. The luck I needed to obtain this is incalculable. I’ll have to return quite a few favors once Weapon Plus is fully operational.’
The Colonel made sure the substance was fully loaded. Once satisfied, he retreated back to the safety barriers with Graydon Creed, Reverend Stryker, and Arcade. The final piece that would make Weapon Plus a reality was in place.
“We’re officially ready,” said Colonel Wraith, “You may begin.”
“Not a moment too soon either,” said Arcade as he cracked his knuckles, “I’m running the protocols now and looking forward to some fireworks.”
“Does this mean I should keep my Purifiers on standby?” asked Reverend Stryker, “I know your history, Wraith. Experiments like these have a tendency to get messy.”
“Not this time, Reverend. We’re using an entirely different road to get to the same destination.”
“Based on what you told me about the history of Weapon X, I’m very much looking forward to seeing the finished product,” said Creed intently, “I can think of no more fitting tactic than to use the best of humanity to fight off the worst of mutant filth.”
Creed’s sentiment was shared by many. He, Wraith, and Stryker stood with burning anticipation. The moment of truth was upon them. Weapon Plus had begun.
Inside the dome, the crippled Jean-Philippe could barely make out what was going on. His dazed mind and damaged body didn’t even notice the IVs going into his flesh. It was even harder to understand what all this complex equipment above him was doing. There was a lot of electrical activity. Lights and sparks were flying everywhere. As this was going on, Jean-Phillipe noticed some strange fluids being pumped into the IV tubes. His anxiety grew as the fluid reached him. As soon as it entered his body, a new feeling consumed him.
“Hnn…It b-b-burns!” he grunted.
It was pain, but not of the kind he was used to. His insides started burning. His thoughts became incoherent and his body became rigid. For a moment, Jean-Philippe’s entire sense of self was thrown into disarray. His veins and muscles bulged in a grotesque display of bodily strain. Within minutes they swelled to nearly twice their normal size. His skin tightened and his whole physique started changing.
Through this agonizing procedure, Jean-Philippe thrashed and tensed within the restraints on the gurney. He was in such distress he didn’t notice an exotic silver fluid flow through the large IV tube going right into his neck. When this fluid entered him, his entire body underwent a radical transformation. The scars on his back and face were overrun by a dark grayish matter. His veins changed color, shifting from a purplish red to a light blue. His muscles continued bulging, so much so that it put great strain on the restraints keeping him on the gurney.
Soon, Jean-Phillipe had a build even greater than the one he had in his heyday as a Royal Marine. It was as if this silverish fluid was re-sculpting his body from the inside out, shaping him into a new man. It didn’t stop at his body either. This same fluid entered his brain where another painful transformation began.
“I-I f-f-feel it! It still burns! It…ARRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!”
His pained cries were so load they could be heard outside the dome. Wraith, Stryker, and Creed remained oblivious while the workers and the Purifiers tried not to listen. There was some anxiety that this could turn into another Weapon X failure. However, Colonel Wraith remained completely confident.
“Wow…guess these computers aren’t as fancy as I thought. They can’t keep up with the new data!” said Arcade as he worked to keep up with the incoming streams of data.
“Should we start worrying now?” asked Reverend Stryker.
“Will you give it a rest, Reverend? It’s working,” said Colonel Wraith.
“If crashing the system was part of the plan, then mission accomplished,” said Arcade in a more urgent tone, “These medical readings that I’m totally unqualified to understand look serious. I’m not sure I’m even getting a pulse in this guy anymore.”
“Does that mean we’re losing our hapless volunteer?” asked Creed impatiently.
“Wait for it…” urged Wraith, ignoring their anxious gazes.
The next few moments were tense. A series of green lights lit up along the outer skin of the dome. There were more noises coming from within. It was hard to tell if they were cries for help or just random bursts of rage. Arcade remained confounded while the rest of the Purifiers gripped their weapons cautiously. For a moment, it seemed like something bad was about to happen. Then it all stopped.
There was a brief moment of silence. The lights flickered and the dome shook a bit. The computers were still going and data was still coming in. The technicians were still struggling to make sense of it. Finally, Arcade saw a new message pop up on one of his computer screens.
“Uh…I think it’s over,” he said.
“So it would seem,” said Graydon Creed, “But was it a success?”
Colonel Wraith didn’t answer. He kept on smiling as the dome over the central area rose. A thick wave of mist poured out. It obscured the view inside for a moment. Then a calm and imposing figure emerged from the mist. As he came into view, a series of confused and intrigued gasps echoed throughout the area.