Arriving at his destination, Eddy Johnson put the car in brake, powered off the ignition, and got out of his car. He lit a cigarette. "I really need to quit this stuff," he thought to himself, but keeping the cigarette in his mouth all the same, he advanced to the gates that marked the first checkpoint of his new job. A corpulent man wearing a Bureau Uniform walked up to greet him.
"Ah! You must be...Edward Johnson? He inquired."
"Just Eddy's fine," he said, putting his cigarette out.
"Very well then, Eddy. My name's Joe, Joe Reynolds, I'm chief of security here at SHADOW. Allow me the pleasure of welcoming you, our newest agent, to the Row."
"Nice to meet you Joe," Eddy said, shaking the very large man's hand. He began to look the man over. He was large in girth, but also rather tall, eclipsing Eddy's substantial 6'1" height. His black hair was flecked with a noticeable grey, showing a man getting on in years. Along his arms were numerous scars some running the entire length of the arm, shortened only due to being blocked by Joe's shirt. His face contained many more scars, and then Eddy stared into Joe's eyes. His blue eyes were deep, penetrating, and revealing of a hard, difficult life, and a man who appeared to be wearing down from it.
"Such is the situation of a man who has spent his whole life hunting and detaining muties," said the Joe, serenely, noticing Eddy staring agape.
"Oh, I-I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare," Eddy stammered, quickly withdrawing his hand.
Joe chuckling exclaimed, "Not to worry, m'boy! In case you can't tell, I've been a part of the Row for a helluva lot longer than it's been made known to even many of the higher institutions of government. It's a mark of pride for me! Now, let's get started, shall we? Follow me, and I'll give you the grand tour!" said Joe, grabbing Eddy's shoulder and steering him towards the checkpoint. He flashed a security badge to the man sitting in the booth, who waved them through.
Joe and Eddy passed through 3 similar checkpoints before finally stopping in the middle of what appeared to be a bleak and empty expanse of desert. "Uhh, sir, pardon me for being blunt, but there ain't nothing here."
Joe chuckled again, "newbies", he muttered to himself, before walking a little further, kicking aside some sand, revealing a hatchdoor, which he pulled up, allowing them to lower themselves into a long cement-filled tunnel. "Precautionary measure, you see," if we set up a jail full of highly dangerous muties in a giant building, then you'd get all sorts of riffraff coming through trying to spring them. As easy as it is to sort that stuff out, it's just not practical, you see? So we built this place deep underground, through a route that is not easy to get at. You may not be able to tell, but this hallway's lined with turrets, ain't nothing getting through here. Such is the efficiency of the Row, which damn well kept muties under the radar for decades, and even now there are very few who know about this place."
Joe continued along down the passageway, which widened as they moved along. After about 200 yards, they finally reached a large steel door. Joe then swiped his card, followed by entering a number into a pad, followed by an eye scan, followed by a thumb scan, followed by another number. Finally another man appeared in a small screen above the numpad. "It's just me, Rich," said Joe, "I'm bringing the newbie in."
"Aha! Fresh meat, eh? Very well, in you come Joe."
A loud buzzing was followed by the steel door opening to allow the two men into a stark, bright white room. "Sorry Joe, gonna have to run you two through a scanner cycle." Joe looked irked, but pleasantly told Rich that he understood. The two stood still for 10 minutes while the two were subjected to a laser scanner. Finally they were buzzed through into the entrance hall of the top secret wing of the Edwards Air Force Base – the Superhuman Abilities Detention and Observation Wing, a place which, 6 months earlier, had only existed to Eddy in the world of rumor and gossip.
Joe led Eddy through several mess halls and a barracks for agents staying on call.
“‘Seer’s your locker,” he said, bringing him into a changing area. Used to belong to Jenkins, don’t ask what happened to him. Eddy found that his locker was already stocked with the equipment needed for his first day on the job. Joe went away to allow Eddy to change, and when this was done Joe called him back. “C’mon boy, I’ll show you what we’ll be doing.”
Joe led them through several large concrete doors, all requiring authorization, before they finally entered a hallway marked “Containment Cells”. Here Joe showed Eddy many different highly dangerous mutants who the Bureau of Mutant Affairs, formerly operating in secret as the off-the-books organization known as the Mutant Intelligence Bureau; an organization created in secret during WWII in order to seek out and destroy axis, and later communist superhuman plants. MIB was later kept on and under the table, operating completely independently, and with the express purpose of seeking out and killing or capturing known mutants which it deemed to be “a threat”. This organization operated so secretly that in most administrations, none but the very highest cabinet members knew of its existence, and in a few, not even the vice president was aware of it.
The MIB, or Row as it came to be referred to by its agents, was highly efficient at what it did, and not even many mutants knew of its existence. In the 1980s, when the issue of mutants in the US came to a head, and the Mutant Bureau of Investigation came into creation, the MIB was repurposed, handing most of its documents over to the MBI. The MIB was renamed the Superhuman Investigations Division, and now acts as the detention and covert apprehension wing of the MBI – for matters where mutant cases need to be dealt with discreetly and privately; far from the public’s eye.
“You’ll be attending to these muties,” said Joe, “Y’know, checking in to make sure they aren’t dead. Most of these guys have been in here for 30 or 40 years, so they don’t put up much of a fight no more. You’ll be giving them food, and generally just making sure nothing goes to hell. So I’ll leave ya to it then.”
Eddy glanced around again, reading the signs listed next to the cells:
Vladimir Ogloleiv
Power: Pyrokenisis
Threat Level: S
As Eddy looked at other signs, he noticed that all of them read as having threat level “S”. Then at the end of the hall he found himself facing a large concrete wall, with a solid metal door. Next to it was a sign similar to the others he had seen:
Noman
Powers: Classified
Threat Level: M
“Hey Joe!” Eddy called out, “what’s behind this door?”
Joe turned around, confused, and then, noticing what Eddy was pointing at, returned, “I’m not sure Eddy. That thing’s been here for a long time, much longer even than I’ve been here. I asked my predecessor what it was but he wouldn’t say. Whatever it is it don’t need to be fed, and it hasn’t so much as made any sort of commotion in the 30 years I’ve been here. Most round here think it’s long dead and they just ain’t bothered to take the sign down yet. Whatever it is, or was, it musta been pretty strong as it’s labeled as level M, a level reserved for only the most dangerous muties out there. After saying his piece, Joe left Eddy to his duties.
Eddy stood for a couple of minutes, before lighting another cigarette. “A bunch of washed-up has been muties, and no action to speak of. Maybe this job wasn’t the place for me after all,” thought Eddy to himself, before finally drifting off down the hallway.
