Scott and Pietro, Monday afternoon

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott heads into the city for a lunch meeting - with Wanda's brother, who has some alarming news about his father's latest plans. They quickly develop a plan of their own.


It was one of those proverbial hole-in-the-wall restaurants of which New York likely had thousands. This one happened to serve Eastern European food, and happened to be quiet even during regular meal hours. Scott wasn't at all surprised to see the booth in the back corner was free, and nodded pleasantly at the waitress as she seated him, left a menu, and then withdrew, trying a little too hard not to be obvious about scrutinizing his eyepatch and the still-injured side of his face.

After a moment, the other patrons' menus flapped in a sudden breeze, and a tall blond man appeared in the seat opposite Scott. Lean and aristocratic, he favored Scott with a quick once-over, with a crooked smile for the patch. "Summers, I realize literature isn't your field," he drawled, "but codenames are what those of us with a trifle more sophistication refer to as 'metaphors.' I, for example, am not liquid at room temperature."

"I had a bet with myself," Scott said wryly, picking up his water glass and taking a sip, "as to how long it would take you to bring that up. Thanks for not disappointing." His expression grew more serious almost immediately, however. "I wasn't expecting to be having this lunch this soon. Something's come up?"

"Something exceedingly problematic." Pietro looked away for a moment. "But first, let me just say that if I'd known about his plans for Dane and the boy . . . well. After the incident with the Madrox boy my father hasn't burdened me with the details of his more questionable recruitment efforts. Still, if I'd known, I would have done what I could."

"I know you would have." And Scott did. "They're both doing better, if that helps to know," he said, but didn't go into any further details. They needed to keep this meeting reasonably short.

"It does." Pietro drummed his fingers on the table. "My father's planning to build a new Cerebro," he said flatly. "He's had me holed up in Hawaii, searching every newspaper in the country every day for the sort of unexplained phenomena one gets with emergent psis, looking for someone to run it for him." He made a face. "And after several long, incredibly boring months of meaningless suburban minutiae, I've generated a short-list of potential subjects. I hope I don't need to explain how vital it is that I don't allow that list to fall into his hands."

Scott took a deep breath, then let it out on a sigh. "Charles is going to go apeshit in that highly dignified way he has." He thought fast. "Obviously we can't just scoop up the kids, that'd be too obvious. But arrangements could be made."

Pietro waved this away impatiently. "I'll leave that to Xavier's ingenuity. The first thing to do is destroy the original of the list, and to accomplish that properly I'll need a spot of massive property damage." He smiled thinly. "Thus, you and the X-Men."

"One of these days I'm going to convince you that we're capable of more than blowing things up." Scott caught himself reaching up to scratch at the side of his face again, and lowered his hand back to the table. "Still. Sometimes the explosions are necessary. Where and when?"

"Hawaii, and before the end of the week." Pietro slid a flash drive across the table. "I've had a stroke of luck there, although I didn't consider it good luck until recently--Toad's been sharing the base with me since the Florida debacle, attempting to worm his way back into my father's good graces. He's developing a magnetic amplification device--something else I'd prefer my father not possess, as it happens--and while he's close to completion, the design has a significant flaw: damage the capacitors in a certain way, and they cascade, releasing an electromagnetic pulse. It's a pity my research terminal will be running when the X-Men break in and level the place, but I can hardly be held accountable for Toad's sloppy engineering, can I?" He quirked an eyebrow. "We'll need to arrange something suitably serendipitous to excuse your locating the base, of course."

Scott took the flash drive. "Hawaii," he said, his eye distant as his mind worked through the problem. "Does this device emit any kind of electromagnetic interference when it's running normally? I have an idea."

Pietro favored him with a smile of dry approval. "Very good, Summers; it does indeed. You'll find the interference signature included with the specifications." He drummed his fingers on the table again. "One more thing. While I'll trust you to select your people appropriately for this operation, I forbid you to bring Wanda along. Leave her at the school where she's reasonably safe. I don't expect my father to arrive for a progress report for some time yet, but he has never been the most predictable of men, and I won't have you putting Wanda at risk if he has an unfortunately-timed whim."

"Check," Scott said with a straight face. "I'll make sure she's locked securely in her rooms." Before Pietro could react, he went on, more seriously. "I think I have a cover for our arrival. Close to an airtight one."

Pietro gave him an indecipherable look, then shook his head impatiently. "I don't have all day. What is it?"

"Lorna has legitimate business in Hawaii. She was supposed to be heading there for college when she was waylaid by your father. If she went back to take care of some of that business and sensed unusual electromagnetic emanations... only makes sense that she might inform me. Don't you think?"

Pietro nodded judiciously. "It hangs together well enough. Will she do it? From what little conversation with Toad I've been able to put myself through, it sounds as if her experience was unusually traumatic."

"We can keep her out of the rest of it. She'll take some convincing, but I think part of her wants to get back up on the horse, whether she'll admit it aloud or not." Being a part of this might just help. He eyed Pietro. "If your research terminal is running... you'll be on-site, you mean. That might be tricky." He gestured at his eye. "I can be handling tactical control from the plane, but I'm not fit for field work just yet."

"I wasn't planning on couriering you the list after the fact, no. I'll absent myself from the melee for a moment or two to deliver it to you on the plane." Pietro frowned. "But I do need to put on at least a show of defending the base, and I admit I was somewhat counting on you being the one to take me out of the fight. You at least know why I shouldn't be disabled with unnecessary force." He nodded sharply. "Bring Munroe or Blaire as your proxy, and let them know why—if you haven't already." He gestured at Scott's eye. "After all, you're demonstrably not invulnerable, and the X-Men have been useful enough so far that I'd find a disruption of our working relationship inconvenient."

Coming from Pietro, that was almost touching. "Either would work. They're both capable of taking you down at a distance without doing more than token damage. It'll be plausible." He nodded tightly, his hand closing around the flash drive. "It'll all be plausible. Two heads-up to you, I think. One when Lorna's on-site, and one when we're headed in. The first will let you tell your father that you knew she was there. I'll have her trot around town flashing that green hair and being noticeable."

"I'll even mention her to Toad, just for that little extra frisson of blame, later." Pietro smiled coolly. "I'm sure I can goad him into denying she makes a difference to his project. He finds me profoundly irritating, for some reason."

"And I'm sure you haven't fostered that one bit." Scott ran over the plan thus far in his mind, filing away each detail. "Anything else I've missed? You know how to get in contact with me if anything I need to know develops between now and the end of the week."

"Yes, yes, I'll keep you well informed. I have a great deal riding on the success of this operation." Pietro checked his watch. "And much though I enjoy our little chats, I'm going to have to cut this one short if I'm to arrive back in Hawaii before I'm missed." Another errant breeze set the bells over the restaurant's door to jingling, and Pietro was gone.

The waitress came back over, looking rather bemused. Scott gave her a quick smile. "I'll have the skilandis," he said, handing back the menu. "And I think, actually, I'll have it to go."