To Catch a Killer - Part 4

Posted on Mon Feb 17th, 2025 @ 4:49pm by Bobby Drake & Pietro Maximoff

3,028 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Episode 6: X-Fernus Agenda
Location: Cedar Hill | Maryland
Timeline: December 6th, 1990

As the first rays of dawn barely touched the horizon, Bobby and Pietro crouched just beyond the tree line outside Cedar Hill. The early morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and distant livestock. Ahead of them, the black site masqueraded as an unassuming farm, complete with a long gravel driveway and a sturdy perimeter fence. A security van idled by the main gate, preparing for its routine departure.

Bobby exhaled, watching his breath fog in the cool air. "Alright, Speedy," he murmured, keeping his voice low. "Do you see any cameras or sensors? 'Cause we learned our lesson at Forge's place, and I am not looking to step in that again."

“There.” He pointed to the entry and then at the side of the building. “And also over there.” Without warning, Pietro disappeared for a few seconds only to return to Bobby’s side. “Along the back area as well as a few motion sensors on the fences. This place is monitored like a prison.” He had to admit that the scenery around Cedar Hill was charming but then he reminded himself that not all cages had to have bars. “Do you think you can freeze them? I’m worried that if we destroy any of them it will trip an alarm, so I don’t want to just smash them. I hate to admit it but it’s easier when all metal items are rendered inert.”

“That’s one option,” Bobby said, rubbing his chin. “But I think I have a better one.”

Pietro barely had time to register Bobby’s smirk before they were rocketing skyward on an ice slide, the wind whipping past them as they climbed higher and higher. A thick, rolling fog trailed in their wake, swallowing up the ground and covering their ascent several hundred feet upwards, though still low enough to remain below the radar.

Bobby grinned, relishing the moment before sending them into a smooth corkscrew descent, the ice twisting and curving beneath them like an amusement park ride designed by a lunatic.

Pietro’s instincts took over—he shifted his weight, moving with the slide rather than against it, landing in a crouch the second they touched down behind the barn. He dusted himself off, casting Bobby a sidelong glance as the fog settled around them.

Bobby waggled his eyebrows. “So, how was that?”

“Pretty good,” Pietro said while folding his arms across his chest. He was suppressing his smirk but Bobby could hear the approval in his tone. “Now we just have to wait for that van to leave and we can pay her a little visit. How do you want to do this? Scare her?”

“Good cop, bad cop?” Bobby suggested. “I did pretty good with the fed if I do say so. Maybe I can do it again with this Domino chick. If she tries to bolt, you tell her the score. How’s that sound?”

“I am faster than a bullet.” Pietro said with a self assured smirk. “Alright it sounds like a plan. You are more… personable than I am. So it’s probably for the best if you play nice for both of us.”

They waited and watched as the van in the driveway finally left, leaving Cedar Hill as empty as it was going to be. “Let me case the joint first, then we’ll head in together.”

With that super speed Quicksilver vanished and then returned. “She’s watching Oprah Winfrey in the living room and painting her toenails. Are you going to knock or just storm in, good cop?”

“Watch me and follow my lead,” Bobby said with just enough confidence to fall short of swagger.

Bobby didn’t bother knocking. He strolled right through the front door, already armored up in his ice form, and spread his arms wide in greeting. “Domino! We need to talk.”

On the couch, Domino barely flicked her gaze from the television. Her toes wiggled as she finished painting them black, looking as casual as could be. Then, with practiced ease, she reached under the cushion, retrieved a .45 ACP, and leveled it at his face.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked, bored but dangerous.

Bobby grinned. “C’mon, you don't know me, but—”

Her icy blue eyes narrowed as she recognized the Iceman. A beat passed. Then she fired.

Pow!

The bullet hit Bobby square in the forehead, embedding itself in the ice. He barely flinched, just reached up, plucked the bullet out, and examined the flattened slug between his fingers. “Oww,” he said, mockingly. “That was rude. I just came to talk. No need to get rough.”

Domino was already pulling another handgun from a holster at the small of her back. “You’ve got ‘til three to piss off before I break out the big guns.”

Bobby smirked. “Oh, you mean like the one you used to shoot Senator Kelly?”

Domino’s brow shot up. It was the first real reaction he’d gotten from her. But she was quick—too quick. Her expression went flat again, and she mag-dumped him, emptying both pistols into his chest as she pivoted toward the hallway.

Bullets shattered against Bobby’s ice, cracking and splintering on impact. Multiple rounds in quick succession were starting to hurt. He had no desire to experience the sniper rifle “Quicksilver!” he called out with a moan. “Help!”

Pietro laughed a little before he sprung into action, between his silence with Dr. Reyes and now Bobby’s failed attempt at ‘good cop’ it seemed like the Romani man took a little bit of delight in watching Bobby squirm. “Yeah, yeah…”

A blurry streak of silver and blue moved through the living room as second by second a pile of firearms appeared and continued to grow as Pietro swept and cleared the house of any hidden weapons. When a waist high pile of firearms had been created, Quicksilver turned on Domino. Swept up in his furious speed the black and white mutant was clotheslined and pinned to the wall before she had a chance to react.

“Let me say this to you one more time.” Quicksilver’s tone became sharp and steely, and in that moment Bobby saw the Brotherhood reappear in front of him. “We’re going to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer them.” Pietro roughed the woman up and slammed her into the wall once more. “Okay?”

Pietro held Domino pinned against the wall with one arm, his speed making it effortless. She was fast, dangerous, a killer—but right now, she was outmatched. His grip was firm, his stance unyielding. She glared at him with ice-cold defiance, dark lips curling into a sneer before she did the only thing left to her.

She spit in his face.

It was a sharp, wet smack against his cheek, and she grinned like she’d just landed the knockout punch in a title fight. "I ain’t saying shit."

Pietro didn’t flinch. He didn’t react at all. He merely wiped it away with the back of his glove, the movement slow, methodical. His silence was more menacing than any threat he could’ve spoken. He just stared, waiting.

Bobby sighed. "Look, we just want to talk," he said, voice edged with frustration but still even. "We’re not here to hurt you."

Domino scoffed, rolling her shoulders in Pietro’s hold. "Yeah? Tell that to the soldier boys. They’ll be here any second to investigate my gunfire.”
Bobby took a slow breath, keeping his hands up in a placating gesture. "Come on, we don’t want to hurt you," he said, his voice measured, almost pleading. "We just want to know why. Why’d you do it?"
Domino glared at him, her chest rising and falling with quick, controlled breaths. She was still pinned against the wall by Pietro’s unflinching grip. She gave a bitter chuckle, shaking her head. "You’re wasting your time."
"You had to know what would happen," Bobby pressed, stepping closer. His voice carried none of the usual jokes, none of the snark—it was raw, demanding. "His assassination kicked off the Mutant Registration Act. That set the stage for Operation Zero Tolerance. Do you have any idea how many lives were destroyed because of what you did?"
Domino's lip curled, but something in her gaze flickered. Her nostrils flared as she tried to hold onto her defiance, but Bobby saw it—the crack in her armor.
"Doesn't it bother you?" he asked, softer now. "Don't you have any compassion or remorse?"
For a moment, just a moment, her expression faltered. Her jaw clenched, her throat bobbed, and her eyes—those cold, calculating eyes—suddenly glistened with unshed tears.
But she bit them back. Swallowed them down like poison. She inhaled sharply through her nose and forced out the words, low and broken. "I didn’t have a choice."
"Sector 4, report.” The house’s intercom system crackled to life in every room. “We got gunfire. Status?"

Domino raised her voice before Bobby or Pietro could react. "Saw a fucking rat," she barked, tone dripping with irritation. "Scurried away. Tell housekeeping to call a goddamn exterminator."

A beat of static. Then, a tired grunt. "Copy that. Mutant bitch and her drama…”

Silence stretched.

Domino let out a slow breath, her posture loosening. She looked back at Bobby and Pietro, her eyes dry now, but her face still weary.

"You want the truth?" she murmured.

Neither of them moved.

She inhaled through her nose, then finally spoke the words. "I did it." Her voice was flat, almost hollow. "I pulled the trigger. I put that bullet in Kelly’s head."

Bobby felt like his stomach had dropped through the floor. This was it. They had a confession.

Domino ran a hand through her cropped hair, then reached for the collar of her shirt. She pulled it down, revealing a sleek, embedded device at the base of her throat. "Because I didn’t have a goddamn choice."

That shouldn’t have been surprising. What else did they expect though? For the first time in a long while, Bobby felt cold. “The rest of your team doesn’t have one of those. Who put that on you?”

“Peter Gyrich.” Domino spat the name like poison. "National Security Advisor himself. Stuck this thing on me and turned me into his own personal assassin." She rolled her shoulders. "And in case that wasn’t enough?" She tapped the collar. "It’s still here. Insurance. Everytime he uses me, I’m dragged a little deeper. No way out now. I’m along for the ride until he finally throws me to the wolves.”

Pietro eased up in his hold on Domino as she sang for them. The revelation was a damning one. “So Kelly was turned into a martyr for the cause. The biggest and loudest anti-mutant political figure gets a bullet through his brain so his own government can get the green light to go medieval on all of us.”

Quicksilver shook his head, “And of course they used an enslaved mutant to do it.”

“Yeah…” Bobby’s voice nearly cracked from his righteous fury, but the look on his face was colder than his ice form. “Question is how do we nail him? He’s got Neena here right where he wants her. She’d never make it to a witness stand, not like this. We gotta find another way.”

The look of annoyance turned to disbelief while Domino took in Bobby’s words. He had used her name, something even her own team didn’t do. It humanized her in a way she had never known before. Maybe he didn’t just see her as a means to an end, a tool to be used and thrown away when no longer useful.

“This collar is special, just like my rifle,” Domino said. “I don’t know where that son of a bitch keeps it, but if you find the controller, then you’ve got him dead to rights. He won’t keep it far. Can’t risk it falling into the wrong hands.”

“So if they find his controller is linked to yours…” Bobby trailed off.

“Then you prove I was just an extension of the gun that killed Kelly,” said Domino, finishing his thought, “and that Gyrich was really the one who pulled the trigger.”

Turning to Pietro, Bobby asked, “What do you think?”

“Shit, man, Gyrich is a hard man to find.” Pietro said while scratching the back of his head. “The Brotherhood was hot on him for months and he kept slipping through our fingers. But if we do get this collar off of you, you can seek asylum at Asteroid M.” He said while looking at Domino. “Do you have any clues for us? Does he check in with you or see you on a schedule?”

Domino shook her head. “No, he doesn't deal with me that way. I'm just his attack dog.” She looked at Pietro, “And spending the rest of my life on a floating rock doesn't sound any better than a prison cell.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet,” Bobby said, putting his hand in the air. “We gotta find a safe place to block that collar but have somebody official see you wearing it before it comes off. Chain of custody for evidence or whatever they call it.”

After a moment, Bobby brightened up. “I know! Our… friends have a… thing… they’re working on.” He cocked his head at Pietro, gesturing and shrugging in hopes of clueing him in on his vague meaning. “You know, the thing? Could you get her back to… our base? You know, before the sensors trip. I’ll put word out to the others and see what we can figure out. With any luck, we just might pull this off.”

“To New York City? That’s like 333 kilometers.” Pietro thought about it for a second. “I can get her there in a matter of a couple minutes if I really go full throttle. But it might be a little uncomfortable. I could of course slow down and take like 15 minutes to get there.” He looked over at Domino, “How short is your leash? Is that alarm an instantaneous thing? If we took you to New York would it still work? I don’t want to accidentally kill you.” That last bit was meant to sound comforting but it wasn’t.

"Nothing like a high-speed, high-stakes game of ‘Will I Spontaneously Drop Dead?’ to make a girl feel real good about her odds." Domino let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. Despite the sarcasm, her expression sobered quickly. "They told us the collars alert our handlers if we leave the operational zones. So, yeah, take me too far, too fast, and Gyrich will know something’s up.”

Quicksilver looked over at Bobby. “Maybe you wanna give our pals a heads up if we’re coming in hot? Especially if her head is at risk of exploding.”

She tilted her head, considering Pietro’s concerns. "If they had that kind of failsafe, they would’ve led with it. Psychological warfare’s more effective when your weapon is visible, not theoretical.” Domino let out a sigh. This was going to get stupider before it got smarter. “That said… We don’t know if Gyrich’s remote kill code means ‘boom’ or just ‘turn me into a mindless meat puppet.’ If Gyrich tells me to execute everyone in the room, I won’t be able to stop it." Her eyes locked onto Bobby’s. "So wherever we go, it has to be somewhere that can block that signal. And fast. Because I really don’t want to find out the hard way what kind of fine print is buried in this thing."

“Yeah, I hear you,” Bobby said, gulping against the thought of a rampaging mutant in the X-Factor office. “Loud and clear. Like Quicksilver said, I’ll go rally the troops.”

Turning around, Bobby closed his eyes and stilled his breathing in the manner Professor Xavier had taught them. He was not a telepath, so his psychic projection was like a firecracker in a rainstorm. The impulse would have to be held indefinitely until Jean noticed and used her telepathy to connect to him. If not for their personal connection, it would be nearly impossible. Pietro wouldn’t be able to ping her from this distance. It had to be him.

Deep, slow breath. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. ~Jean? Jean! Jean, we need you!~

~* ‘Bobby, you’re shouting.’ *~ Jean replied and he felt that warm brush of sunshine that meant she was telepathically present in his mind.
~* ‘What’s wrong? Are you okay?’ *~

Bobby didn’t really have to answer her questions, rather his stream of consciousness provided Jean with a summary of everything that had happened and the position they were in.

~* ‘Well, that is a rather urgent matter. You’re lucky, Hank is already here and working on Cerebra. But it’s not ready yet, at least I haven’t been allowed to try it yet. Give me a minute to talk with him.’ *~

There was a long, awkward pause as Jean conversed with Hank in New York City. Leaving Bobby on hold in a manner that was unseen and unknown to everyone else in the room.

“They always get all weird and spacey when they do their mind talking,” Quicksilver said to Domino as they watched Bobby become blank and distant.

Finally Jean returned and continued to speak to Bobby ~* ‘He thinks we can set something up with Cerebra and turn it into a Faraday cage. But he needs a little bit of time to make that happen. Can you give us thirty minutes and then let me know when Pietro leaves?’ *~

~You got it~

Bobby’s eyes fluttered as he returned to the moment in the Cedar Hill Farm. Looking at Domino and Pietro, he flashed them a cocksure grin. “We got a plan.”

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