FIRE-SONG

Chapter One: Alkali

A buzz of radio interference breaks Ava's train of thought, the horrible sound of static piercing her eardrums and causing her mouth to perse in a slight cringe. The voice of the pilot rings through the hull of the aircraft, and does so loud, assertive, and nevertheless urgent.

"We are nearing the gate, I repeat, we are nearing the gate. Touch down in two minutes, Director."

Stryker smirks up to the intercoms, arm gradually returning to his side as he distances himself from the glass, and ultimately, the world outside. As he strays away from the telepath, a nod her way is thrown over his shoulder and back outside.

"You're going to want to take a look at this."

What? What is he-

The helicopter slows abruptly, its sudden and very jostling drift nearly sending the woman flying off of her seat. Her hands shoot out in all directions, blindly grasping for anything of support that she can brace herself on.

Stryker's boisterous laugh sears on her skin, banishing the cold and bringing in the boil. Through her hair, she can see his smug look, and has the desire to rip it off.

But she rather not break a nail.

"Careful now, Rhodes! I wouldn't want you to arrive dead now, would we?" His cold, calculating blue eye fills with amusement. One that can only spawn from the suffering and struggle of others. "Madame Hydra prefers her recruits alive."

You're going to wish you arrived dead, you son of a-

From outside, the defeaning grind of concrete on metal, shrill and hellish, assaults her eardrums worse than the static, drawing her attention and simmering ire away from her commanding officer.

A gate, well, more like a huge hole within the dam, opens, hissing in discontent that its slumber has been so cruelly disrupted. The telepath peers through the window, her alert nature driving her to assess the situation and plan the best course of action. But what can she possibly do locked away in this flying death trap.

Great---great! That's just great; we're going INSIDE the dam! How wonderful.

It is indeed not wonderful.

At the very least, she's relieved that she'll be on solid ground. Flying for hours and hours and HOURS on end can have a...less than pleasant effect on the body. Her stomach is already in knots from the fear of the unknown and the fact that her entire life has crumbled at her feet; she's already been given the order to pick up the pieces and start again, the last thing she needs is to arrive covered in the contents of what she ate that morning.

Which isn't a lot. Too nervous to keep it down anyway.

The helicopter cautiously floats into the opening chasm before them, her world no longer the endless landscape of green and nature she has flown over for what seems like an eternity, but a concrete and metal tomb with her doom waiting on the other side.

Already, she has set a certain expectation for the interior. Mold smell everywhere, puddles littering the ground no matter where you turn, and a claustrophobia that comes with basically being buried alive---but once again, the Weapon-X Organization fools her once again.

The base is prestine. Its bright: state of the art lights lead the helicopter down in its descent, with the walls so vastly different from the outside, she can hardly recognize it. Below, Ava spots several armed men and women dressed in tactile gear rush around, the soldiers preparing for the arrival of the Director with great speed and diligence. And soon, the helicopter comes to a stop on the landing pad, its contact sudden, but predictable.