The Artists

Backstage, Tionne Watkins checked her make-up and hair in the mirror for the last time. Perfect. Almost, anyway. She grabbed her favorite shade of lipstick and applied a light coat. With the last stroke, the young woman in the mirror disappeared. Tionne Watkins was gone; only T-Boz of TLC remained. Now she was ready.

“Hey, T-Boz! Let’s go already!”

She smiled, recognizing Left Eye’s voice instantly. “Be right there!” she shouted back. Walking quickly over to the dresser, she picked up her teddy bear and hugged it. “Wish me luck, Charlie,” she said, kissing his head. She carefully placed him back on the dresser and affectionately patted his head. Then she ran out of the room, anxiously awaiting the moment she would dance onstage.

In only a few seconds, Nate had scouted several areas where Jackknife might choose to detonate the bomb from. Hoping his guess was right, he quickly scanned the crowd, searching for anyone that might try to interfere with his mission. It didn’t take him long to find the three members of Gen X. Muttering a curse under his breath, he instantly knew Monet was there, without even sensing her. The history between them was as long as it was confusing, and seeing her again could really screw things up. Not to mention that she probably still carried a grudge after all this time. Even so, he couldn’t let Jackknife kill all these people. So many lives, capable of being snuffed out in a single moment. He wouldn’t let it happen tonight. Not ever again.

“Boss, we got a problem,” the armored man said, tapping his chest plate nervously.

“What is it?” the head Psi-Op asked, narrowing his eyes impatiently.

“We’ve got three mutants in the crowd, but none of them match the one we’re looking for.”

The leader paused for a moment. “Boss?” the other questioned.

“Check backstage,” the leader finally barked, wondering just how much his superior had lied about this “simple” mission.

A few moments later, the man responded, “Sir, there’s three backstage, too!” He winced as the leader cursed up a blue streak.

After a while, the leader asked, “What are their potential levels, Parker?”

Parker scanned the area again. “Alpha, class A, sir.”

“Good Lord. Have they manifested yet?”

"No, sir," Parker replied with something of a smile. “If my guess it correct, they don’t even know they’re mutants yet.”

For the first time that night, the leader was filled with a sense of true happiness. “Then we’ll take them out before they learn. Take ten units and advance, Parker.”

“Will do, sir.”

The house lights went black, and the spotlights snapped on, rolling over the crowd. Many people screamed in delight as the three young women stepped into view.

“God, you’d think we were naked or something,” Chili whispered.

“That part’s not until later,” Left Eye assured her.

“What?!” Chili nearly shouted. Fortunately, the crowd was too loud to hear her.

“She’s kidding, girl!” T-Boz laughed. “At least, she better be.”

Left Eye only grinned mischievously as the music to “Creep” started. “Here goes nothing!”

Their faces became masks of concentration as their bodies moved seductively to the beat. Even though most of the crowd was on their feet, when Chili’s tongue made an appearance, at least thirty men passed out. Everett Thomas was not among them. His eyes were trained squarely on T-Boz, who didn’t seem to notice him at all. It was just as well, since he would’ve fainted dead away if she had even winked in his general direction.

Jubilee grinned when she noticed he was sweating. “So which one are you gonna ask to kiss you first, Ev?” she asked.

He blinked and stared at her. “Huh?”

She waved the three backstage passes in his face. “I bet I can convince T-Boz to sit in your lap.”

Now Ev was sure he’d pass out.

“Spawn, look!”

His eyes wandered in the direction that Darkchylde was pointing. The eleven armored figures high above the stage surprised him, if nothing else.

“Who are they?” she asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, clenching his fists. “They’re not part of the show, so they’re going down.” She glanced at his hands, which were already glowing with an eerie green light. “Get down,” he said.

As she ducked, Ariel could see the bright green blasts shooting from his hands. They all found their marks, hitting the men with enough force to send them barreling out of sight. “Think the crowd saw them?”

Spawn shook his head. “The concert hasn’t stopped. We’re lucky tonight, I think. Let’s move.”

Monet watched in silence as the eleven Psi-Ops fell from view. Then she glanced back at the two mysterious figures, who were disappearing in a cloud of green mist. “Perhaps we have allies after all,” she murmured, turning her eyes back to the concert. She could just make out the forms of Jubilee, Everett and Gaia in the crowd. Monet considered warning them, but figured she’d be wasting valuable time, which might allow the Psi-Ops to regroup, or even worse, call for reinforcements. Her thoughts turned to Nate, who would probably be easier to reach, but a little less cooperative. However, with the power of her mind, she reached out to him anyway.