Phase Two: Uncle Anatoly Wants You (open)

Despite popular opinion crime does pay, especially when you are Anatoly Antropov. Being a criminal mastermind had its advantages. His crews were out stealing, extorting, and selling. Twenty-four hours a day seven days a week. Banks, armored cars, shipping trucks were being hit like hanging curve balls at Shea Stadium. Not even other criminals were safe from Anatoly. If it could be stolen it was. This was a crime wave of epic preportions. The papers were calling it “A WILD WEST REBIRTH.”

It was wonderful; money was flowing like champagne at midnight on New Years Eve. And the best part, most of the cash was going to directly to Anatoly’s war for mutant supremacy and no one could stop it. The NYPD, the FBI and the IRS were powerless.

The money was nice, but Anatoly also received something more valuable, information. Anatoly had his people in every newsroom, hospital, jailhouse and police stations gathering intel of strange and unique occurrences throughout the greater metropolitan area. Anatoly hoped that this info would lead him to recrutes for his army in the battle against the human race. Most of the gathered intellengence came up empty except for one thing.. .the Dr. Cullen’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters in New York.

“Now we are getting somewhere,” Anatoly said simply. What appears to be a normal school for advanced students is really an institution for mutant children and teens to hone their skills. It was perfect. The school would be filled with perhaps hundreds of naive young minds ripe for the picking. His plan was simple. Gain admittance into the school, as a student eager to learn about his newly discovered powers, befriend his fellow students and take the outcast and weak minded for him.

“I will have my army.”





Anatoly Antropov slowly and unsurely walk toward the gates of the Dr. Cullen’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters. A security guard met Anatoly at the entrance.
“May I help you?’ the guard asked without speaking.
It took a moment for Anatoly to mimic his ability, “Wow I have never done that before.” Anatoly answered him with a frightened look on his face.
“You are in the right place sir, don’t be afraid, hold on.” The guard said in a reassuring voice. The guard made a move toward his walkie-talkie on his chest. “Yeah, can you send an instructor down, I think we have another one at station two.”

"I'll be right there."

It was three weeks into the term already, but it wasn't uncommon for the Institute to receive inquisitive visitors throughout the year, and at all hours. Dr. Cullen had always made his intentions clear that his school should be a haven for all mutants seeking help, community, and self-understanding. Unfortunately, you still had to take reality into account; the world had a way of punishing the generous, and Dr. Cullen's assassination was only one of many sad examples in recent memory.

The result was that, while maintaining the veneer of a charitable boarding school, Dr. Cullen's Institute had a complex network of security measures rivaling any other installation in the United States. The security stations at the perimeter were only scratching the surface.

John Rhee didn't like it - he thought it made the school more like a prison - but he accepted it as a necessary evil. In a way, he was a substantial part of the security network himself.

But he hardly looked that way as he crossed the finely manicured lawn to station two to greet the visitor. He was short, but robustly built, and he walked with the unmistakeable ease of a man at peace with himself and his surroundings. He smiled brightly.

"Good morning! I'm John Rhee. I'm one of the counselors here at the Institute. What can I do for you?"

Anatoly Antropov was not easily impressed. He had personally witnessed the power of many a mutant in his instruction at the Soviet Institute of Genetic Studies, but for the first time in a long time Anatoly was impressed. Part of his skill was the ability to measure the power of a potential host and the power pulsing out of John Rhee was unimaginable.

Cracking an unsure smile at his very friendly yet powerful host, Anatoly said sheepishly in his thickest Russian accent, “I would hope so. My name is Anatoly Antropov. I hear you can help people like me.”

People like me... That seemed to be a common euphemism these days, an easy way of getting around all the social and personal baggage associated with being a mutant, or just a way of being discreet. John wasn't sure yet which was the case with Anatoly - he certainly didn't match the normal profile of the Institute's students.

"We do our best," he replied. "Most of the people who come here for help - people like us - want to understand themselves better, or just to find a place where they can be accepted for who they are. We give them that, and we also try to help them live as uniquely gifted members of our society. So, Mr. Antropov, what is it that you are seeking?"

“Please can we walk and talk? I feel there eyes all around me,” Anatoly asked his host.
"By all means, please this way,” John said and made a friendly jester leading the way on to campus.

It was a painful story, but a familiar one for both men. “I learned about my abilities at an early age, but my parents were simple farmers from the Ukraine. They were afraid of me. Imagine it, a child who’s parent will not love him because he is different. At the age of 9 my parents reported me to the communists and I was sent to Siberia with the rest undesirables. I never saw them again, I don’t even know what happened to them,” Anatoly stopped to collect himself. John understood, he didn’t have to say it, but Anatoly could tell by the expression on his face.

The two men continued at a steady pace until the path lead them a secluded bench. “Please have a seat,” John said in a very caring voice, “Please continue.”

“I lived on a labor camp until I escaped to Japan at the age of twenty,” Anatoly continued cautiously. “I have abilities, I don’t know what they are or how to use them, but I know they are there. I would like you and the members of your school to teach me to harness and control this. That is my reason for being here.” Resting his head in his hand, Anatoly waited patiently for a response.

A poor family, frightened parents, the intervention of a paranoid and draconian government - it was indeed hauntingly familiar. As much adversity as mutants faced in the West, very few of the students at the Institute had any real idea what it meant to be regarded as a threat to be contained or a resource to be exploited. John prayed it would stay that way.

"You realize this is more than a training center," he said. "We provide a complete education for our students from elementary to high school, even a few advanced placement and university credit courses. But most importantly - and this is really why Dr. Cullen started the Institute - we help the students work through the social and moral implications of their gifts. We believe that every student here is unique and special, and that each one has a responsibility to use his or her gift for the good of everyone. So we don't just teach them how; we help them to find a why as well. It helps to give them a sense of fulfillment and purpose. Power without purpose can be a dangerous thing."

There was silence between the two men that seemed to hover over them. It was not a threatening silence, but one of understanding and respect. Both men seemed to take note of this occurrence. Anatoly collected his thoughts and began to speak.

“These children are very lucky to have such a place as this,” Anatoly said simply. “They are also very fortunate to have you as a mentor. You care about the child not just the ability. You are truly a good man Mr. Rhee.” John smiled and acknowledged the kind words. As Anatoly combed through his coarse grey beard his tone turned cold, “I however wasn’t as lucky. Yes, sometimes I am bitter that I was shunned by my family and cast aside by society, but I cannot let these feelings overcome me. I have seen first hand what a cold and resentful soul is capable of.” The horrors of his past carried Anatoly out to sea like the tide.

John could tell that this was a complicated man before him. For all they apparently had in common, it wouldn't do to make unfounded assumptions.

"I have learned that the best way to fight bitterness is to move in a positive direction. You say you want to learn about your abilities - to harness and control them, I believe you said. What do you hope to gain through this control? Or, to put it another way, what do you see as your purpose, Mr. Antropov?"

Anatoly looked thoughtfully at Mr. Rhee with a passion burning in his eye, ”Mr. Rhee, I have hate in my heart. I am angry at society for what they have done to us. We have been treated like second-class citizens for too long. Sometimes I can repress my hate, but I also know what happends when a man is pushed to his limits. That fate cannot be for me. I need you and the members of this school to teach control of my abilities and emotions. I am asking for this school to act as a support system. My support system, please, I am begging you.”