xp_logs | CHARLIE: Remy/Steven Plunder

He'd been looking at the phone for twenty minutes now,
trying to decide if this was the right move. One thing
that Remy regretted most was that for all the
operational experience stuffed in his head, he had
less than two years of non-psychopathic interaction
with people to judge decisions like this on. He
briefly considered asking Amanda, but was well aware
her experience was almost as minimal as his own. With
a sigh, he took a sip of coffee and opened the file
Jake had dug up for him.

LeBeau didn't know how Gavin did it. The man was a
wizard in manipulating civic sources on command. Even
with minimal information, Jake had tracked the name
through secure instillation sites, four states and a
couple of tricky instituitions to come up with a
position and number. He'd even ordered the man's book
from Amazon.com and dropped it on the top of the pile.
Remy made a mental note not to put him through the
endurance training Danger Room program he'd designed
as a thank you. It was six in the evening, which meant
three on California time. Almost the time to have to
make the call or not.

Remy turned the book over in his hands; a piece on
modern armored cavalry practices during the first Gulf
War, and a critical dissection of tactics and
technology as wedded to traditional armor use. Couched
heavily in both history and technical details, Remy
had struggled through it, occasionally having to yell
questions over to Cain or drop on to the internet to
find definitions. According to the reviews, it was a
fairly popular work for military personnal and
historians alike. Obvious, the now Doctor Steven
Plunder had made a small name for himself.

With a sigh, Remy put the book down and picked up the
phone. There was no point in avoiding it. The line
rang three times before being picked up.

"Palomar College. History department."

"Steven Plunder."

"Please hold." The ubiquitious muzak oozed over the
line as he waited. After a few minutes, it clicked off
sharply.

"This is Doctor Plunder."

"Doctor Plunder? Steven Plunder?"

"Yes. Can I help you? Student inquiries should go to
the support number, you know."

"Non, I'm not a student, Doctor." Remy said, shuffling
the files in front of him. "My name is Remy LeBeau.
I'm on staff at the Xavier Institute." Which wasn't
exactly a lie, when you considered it.

"Xavier's? In New York, right? I've heard of you."
Steven Plunder sat down in his office chair, phone
cradled between his shoulder and ear. "CNN, back early
last year?"

"Oui, dat's us."

"Interesting. What can I do for you, Mister LeBeau?"
Steven Plunder rubbed the tip of his nose absently. "I
can't imagine you're looking for a guest lecturer
there."

"Remy, please." Remy leaned back in his chair, fingers
flipping the files absently. "And de matter is...
personal."

"Personal? Since I don't know you or anyone at the
school, I think you'll have to quickly explain that,
Remy."

"One of de students here has been working with me on a
project with a local school in New York." This was the
dangerous part. "Homme named Charlie Plunder. He
mentioned dat his pare had been an historian, and when
I ran across your book last week, I thought dat it
might be yourself."

There was a long pause at the other end of the line.
"Mister LeBeau, I'm not exactly sure what you're
trying to accomplish. My son," At least he was right.
"hasn't spoken to me in almost ten years. If he wanted
to speak to me, he has my number. Now if you don't
mind--"

Steven Plunder's voice was angry, and Remy understood
why. However, the last piece had fallen into place.
He'd looked into the court documents around Charlie's
parents' divorce, and found that Carolyn had
successfully won full custody of Charlie, and moreso,
as soon as Steven had applied for a position out of
state, at minimized his access as well. "Doctor
Plunder, your son feels the exact same way."

"Excuse me?"

"According to him, he hasn't heard from you since he
was a kid." Remy pushed on, stealing the momentum in
the conversation. "I'm not trying to cause you
problems, Doctor. It's just I consider Charlie a
friend. Something in his story 'bout you and his past
didn't sit right wit' me, and I decided to take a
chance."

"You do realise how unethical it is for a teacher to
do what you've just done?"

"I'm on staff, Doctor. De school's driver." Remy said,
rolling the dice. There was an even longer pause, and
then a tight chuckle.

"Well, I guess those rules don't apply to the
chuffeur." Steven sighed. "So, you're saying that
Charlie doesn't think I've talked to him for years?"

"Oui."

"Fuck. Carolyn... wait, that's not right. I should
have known. Do you have kids, Remy?"

"Non. Not yet."

"It's a struggle. I've got two other young daughters.
It's hard to, well, figure out how to deal with them."
Steven shook his head. "I should have known."

"Known?"

"Remy, Carolyn's always been very... driven. And when
she feels wronged, she can be vicious. But it's not
her fault. When Charlie stopped responding to my
letters, I assumed that she'd finally convinced him I
was the villain." Steven sagged slightly. "I took the
easy way out. I should have pushed to--"

The other end of the line went quiet. Remy simply
waited, understanding the need to put yourself back
together. After a moment, he heard a deep breath, and
Steven Plunder's voice came back on the line. "I'm
sorry, Remy. I had accepted that my son was gone. Now,
to find out that he thinks the same way... he must
hate me."

"I don't think dat, Doctor. Fact, I think he just
wants to see you." Remy spent the next few minutes
briefly telling him about Charlie; the parts of his
life at Southcrest, his habits, his interest in occult
history. He didn't want to go too deeply, since that
was Charlie's right. Once he'd finished, there was
another long pause, and then Plunder was back.

"Well. That's..." Steven Plunder paused. "I'm afraid I
don't really know what to say."

"I've sent Charlie's current information to your
e-mail, Doctor. He doesn't know 'bout dis call.
Whatever you decide to do is your choice." Remy said,
almost gently.

"Yes, I-- thank you, Remy."

"You welcome, homme." The click was soft as Remy put
the phone down and smiled. Finally, something that
felt right in doing. With a grin, he got up and headed
for the boathouse. Tonight was now officially his
night off.