Chapter 404: [508] - The Stacy Side of the Family

Reed Stacy was still shaken when Hawk turned and flew off. Before Reed could speak, his military escort surrounded him and quickly led him behind the tanks, treating him almost like a prisoner.

Meanwhile, more troops lined up and moved toward the remains of the White House that Hawk had destroyed.

“REED!” Helen Stacy cried when she saw her husband return.

She ran to him and hugged him tightly, holding on with the fear of someone who thought she might lose her husband. Reed held her just as close, and only then did he truly realize what had happened.

Everyone else was dead.

Hawk Phoenix, the visitor from another universe who destroyed Quantico, the Pentagon, the Capitol, and the White House all in one night, had spared Reed’s life.

All because his last name was Stacy.

This explanation brought up an obvious question. Wasn’t Hawk Phoenix married to Wanda Maximoff? Reed was still confused as he held Helen, but Hawk’s twenty-four-hour ultimatum quickly pushed everything else aside.

Reed let go of his wife and walked over to the general nearby, a man who had just been promoted after the chaos of the night before. He passed on Hawk’s demand exactly as it was.

They could kill everyone involved in the Sentinel program, including anyone who knew about it, or Hawk would come back in twenty-four hours and kill them all.

That was the entire offer.

“I understand, sir,” the general said after a long silence.

“What are we supposed to do?” Reed asked.

“Not we.” The general shook his head and looked directly at him. “You. What are ‘you’ going to do?”

“Me?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“No.” Reed recoiled from the title and raised both hands. “No, I can’t make that decision. I’m not qualified to decide something like this.”

Hawk’s choice was brutally simple: either sacrifice one group of people or let everyone die together.

Reed wasn’t perfect, but he did have a conscience. He never imagined he’d have to choose who would die to save everyone else when he first took office.

“You can make the decision, Mr. President,” the general replied without emotion. “In fact, you’re the only person who can. The Pentagon will carry out whatever order you give.”

Something in the general’s tone caught Reed’s attention. He studied the man for a moment before asking, “How many people knew about the Sentinel program?”

“A LOT,” the general answered gravely.

That was exactly why he could promise the Pentagon would follow orders. If only a few people had known, a new general wouldn’t have had the power to speak for everyone. But with half the old leadership involved, things were different.

Reed would give the order for the purge. The general would carry it out. They would both get credit for saving the country and take over the power left by those who died.

It was almost impossible to miss the ambition in the general’s eyes.

“We should identify everyone involved before we—” Reed began.

“If we start investigating, we’ll tip them off,” the general interrupted. “Hawk gave us twenty-four hours. At the end of those twenty-four hours, either they die, or we do.”

His voice grew firm.

“To be blunt, Mr. President, I don’t want to die because of a program I never joined and didn’t even know existed. Do you?”

Reed didn’t answer.

Several seconds passed before he gave a slow, solemn nod.

“I understand. I’m giving you and the National Guard the order to carry out this rescue operation.”

“Yes, sir.”

The general saluted Reed, turned, and began gathering his troops.

“You heard the President’s authorization,” the general announced. “Find them and take them into custody. This victory stays with us, and when they build the new Pentagon, there’ll be seats inside for every man here who earns one.”

“Yes, sir!” the soldiers answered in unison.

The National Guard always followed the President, no matter who was in charge. Within minutes, their units were moving all over Washington.

They didn’t know exactly which Pentagon officials were involved in the Sentinel program, but they did know where the top leaders’ safe houses were. They could raid those first and figure out the rest later.

If they arrested the wrong people, so what?

Their own lives were on the line. It was better for someone else to die than for them. Besides, if the current Pentagon leaders survived, when would anyone else get a chance to move up?

Reed watched the troops leave, noticing the excitement they couldn’t quite hide. He fell silent again.

“Reed.” Helen stepped beside him and took his right hand, her face filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” Reed assured her with a faint smile.

“Someone had to decide. It just turned out to be you.” Helen squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to bear it all alone.”

“I know.”

Anyone in Reed’s place would have made the same choice. When someone who could destroy the Pentagon and White House in one night gave an ultimatum, most people would rather sacrifice the guilty than die with them.

Reed was no different. He had no duty or reason to pay for someone else’s crimes with his own life.

After reassuring himself with that thought, Reed smiled at Helen and changed the subject.

“What about Gwen? Has someone gone to get her?”

Their daughter was ten years old, bright, sweet, and well-behaved.

“The Secret Service sent a team,” Helen answered. “She should be here soon. Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ll be moving into that place.”

She glanced toward the White House, where flames still flickered among the ruins, and gave a helpless shrug.

“We’ll get to live in a brand-new one,” Reed pointed out with a laugh.

When it came to buildings, new was usually better than old. The White House was no exception. If Reed could have a brand-new presidential home instead of an old one, why complain?

His gaze shifted from the smoldering White House toward the Pentagon, which was still burning on the other side of the Potomac.

——————————

Washington wasn’t the only city burning.

In Manhattan, flames covered Wall Street. A Sentinel—almost the same as the one in Washington, moved through the financial district, leaving broken skyscrapers and burning streets behind.

With one swing of its huge arm, it knocked down another tower. Each building it destroyed made it less likely that anyone there could ever control it.

After Trask died, his remaining Sentinels had no more limits. Mutants were no longer their only targets. Now, the machines went after anything that might threaten them.

The Sentinel tore through Wall Street while fighting mutants who darted through the ruins, trying to stop it.

By the time Hawk found Wanda, Jean had already joined the battle.

“How’s she doing?” Hawk asked.

“She obviously doesn’t have your experience,” Wanda replied, watching their daughter fight. “But there is some good news.”

“What?”

“Our daughter isn’t like you. She doesn’t showboat.”

Hawk fell silent.

Jean worked with Storm and Cyclops, moving forward carefully and avoiding unnecessary risks. Each attack set up the next, and none of them rushed ahead.

“She’s doing well,” Hawk said with approval. “Being careful is good. I’ve always liked a cautious fighting style myself.”

Wanda gave him a blank look and didn’t bother to answer.

“Did you finish things in Washington?” she asked instead.

“I gave them twenty-four hours…”

Wanda raised an eyebrow. “You went easy on them again? I thought we agreed you wouldn’t show mercy this time.”

“The person who came to speak with me was different,” Hawk replied.

“Who was it?”

“Reed.”

Wanda frowned. “Who the hell is Reed?”

“The designated survivor.”

“So some lucky guy ended up as president?” Wanda understood how the system worked. “And just being lucky was enough for you to spare him?”

“No.”

“Then what was it?”

“His last name is Stacy.”

Understanding dawned across Wanda’s face.

“Oh.” She laughed softly. “Then he really is a lucky bastard.”

Reed wasn’t just lucky because he was the designated survivor. He was lucky because he was a Stacy.

“Does he happen to have a daughter named Gwen?” she asked.

Hawk shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“There was no reason to…” Hawk met Wanda’s eyes.

“I already have my Gwen.”

That was true. Other universes might have other Gwens, and Hawk might feel some natural fondness for them, but it wouldn’t be the same kind of love.

He loved ‘his’ Gwen. Any affection he felt for her counterparts came from that love, nothing more.

It wasn’t being fickle in love. It was just affection by association!

“I’m very satisfied with that answer, Mr. Phoenix,” Wanda said with a pleased smile.

“I meant every word.”

“I know.” Wanda smiled again before returning her attention to Jean’s battle below. “So when does the bastard hiding behind all this plan to show himself?”

Hawk looked toward the burning city and shrugged.

“He’s already here.”