(Three weeks prior)

Roland looked out the lovely porthole of his cramped suite, also known as a stately crewman's bunk. The seas were relatively quiet, only large twenty foot swells to gently push the tanker back and forth. He looked over the dossiers of the cargo. Three pictures looked back at him from dreary passport photos. A woman, a man and a young boy. It was mere coincidence, but had it not been for the circumstances, one could almost believe them to be family. They were in a way, he supposed. Family in the genetic sense.

The three of them had extraordinary abilities, even in the realm of mutation. The woman, Laurie Milds, was a crop manipulator. Beyond simple plant growth, she could bring entire fields into life overnight, feeding many. She would be feeding soldiers instead of peaceful mutant hippies soon. The man, Jack Orr, controlled heat in the form of thermal currents. With the Gulf Stream down and things getting frosty, he suspected he would be impressed into research. The boy was the most dangerous. Known only as 'Tri', the young Asian boy could split himself into three forms at once. One had immense strength, one had superior intellect, the other inhumanly agile and fast. The three became even more dangerous considering that they acted in concert, as one.

The tanker finished the docking procedure with the offshore rig as Roland dressed himself to go out into the frigid weather. The tanker appeared to be from India on paper. The crew and captain certainly were, originally. However, it was the Chinese attache on board who really ran things. Roland stopped at the captain's cabin, which the portly man had.

<< I'll be heading out to the mainland now. Anything else?>> The man in question, Yoo Chien, was apparently not used to the frequent sway of the sea. He was visibly ill and sweating profusely, dabbing his forehead with a cloth.<<No, no. Just make it quick. I want to get out of here and get back to dry land. Don't forget, Mister Turpit, should you be found out..>> Roland nodded. <<Yes, yes. Death or worse. I know the drill.>> He left with a nod as Yoo returned to the lavatory. The Chinese were a fickle bunch.

It had been the Utopian colony's council that had contacted Roland initially. Regardless of the weight of the mutations that could have easily defended the frozen haven, the governing body had chosen to stockpile weapons in its little known vault, a mile beneath the ice. Now the U.N. had notified them that they were sending a team to investigate the rumors of said cache, as it would nullify the colony's claim in the frozen continent, since no military applications were allowed there via the treaties.

Roland's reputation was well known in the circle of arms and their relocations. His being a mutant had opened many doors that would have remained closed or secret had he maintained his anonymity. The Colony needed to clean house prior to the inspection and Roland always enjoyed increasing his arsenal. He suspected his genetic profile had opened this door as well. He traveled by snow cat across the icy tundra, marveling in the grandeur of the growing abode as its massive domes swelled across the horizon. He fathomed the efficiency and threat of such a force had their aims switched to war instead of peace.

After a brief screening for Haywire and a short tour of the place, Roland found himself rocketing down through the ice via express elevator. His accompaniment came in the form of a small man named Ron. Ron apparently served as some sort of liaison for the Council, having a kind of medium power that allowed the secretive group to literally see through his eyes, speak through his mouth and hear through his ears. Roland found it a bit creepy.

A long metallic hall awaited their departure from the elevator followed by a series of equally droll hallways that could easily be confused had he not had the assistance of the living marionette. A second coded elevator took them a short distance down to the vault prep room. Roland was unsure of the need for a room to prepare to enter a vault until he saw the numerous bio-hazard and universal nuclear symbols. His look was mirrored to Ron.

"Yes, I suppose you can understand why we need your assistance, Mister Turpit. We are in the process of changing the vault into a storage facility for hazardous waste, byproducts from some of our more radical members.Nonetheless, the contents of the room must be removed first. If you would be so good as to suit up." Roland carefully put his bio-hazard suit on and waited as the small airlock was sealed.

The doors opened and it appeared that one of the natural subterranean caverns had been modified to contain what appeared to be sixteen warheads. Roland asked the obvious questions."Are those what I think they are? Why are they here?" Ron looked at him with blinking eyes and moving dummy mouth."Yes, they are low yield nuclear warheads which we...obtained from a submarine that intruded upon our domain recently. As you may guess, it is in our best interests to remove them as evidence prior to our inspection." Indeed it was. Roland imagined that while their dispersal might be low yield, their fetching price on the black market would be quite high.