Log: Kane/Hudson/MacDonald

[x-dominion.livejournal.com]

Inspector Garrison Kane of the RCMP receives his new assignment and is very politely unhappy about it.



It started with the tuneless whistling in the waiting area. Heather remembered it well, and winced in recognition. Outside, the receptionist would be slowly being driven insane by the noise. It wasn’t loud, or even badly out of tune. It was simply random, constantly breaking in and out of any actual harmony, like a collection of notes simply thrown together haphazardly. She sighed and opened the door.

“You can come in now, Garrison.”

Special Inspector Garrison Kane, of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, looked up from his copy of MacLean’s with a completely innocent expression. “Heather? I didn’t know that you were doing the briefing. I thought I got the Old Man.”

“No, the Director is busy with important details, Kane. You are not one of them.”

“Ouch. That hurt.” He got up from the chair, motioning to the receptionist, who failed to hide a look of thanks at the cessation of the whistling. He was wearing his working clothes; a black RCMP sweater with his badge on the shoulder, with black pants and shoes. His belt, including his sidearm, had been left with security downstairs. No one, not even law enforcement agents, went armed in Department H, ordered by Director Malcolm Colcord.

“You deserve it.” Heather Hudson closed the door behind him and pointed to a seat at the table. There were several stacks of files in front of the seat she’d indicated, which worried him.

“What’s all this? I got a call from the Superintendent’s office to show up. I am in the middle of a drug case in Victoria.”

“You were watching a drug case in Victoria.” Heather pointed out, although not unkindly as she sat down. Garrison’s rank was something of an issue. There were less than four hundred inspectors in the RCMP in total, and none of them had made that rank younger than their late thirties. At twenty-five, Kane was easily the youngest in Canadian history, but it was something of a smokescreen. A graduate of the Beta Flight program, Kane originally was intended to be a member of Alpha Flight, and his rank was the only way to give him access to all of the areas and departments the program needed. With the cancellation of the Alpha Flight program last year, he had been left at loose ends; a rookie who ranked station chiefs he was supposed to learn from. Fortunately, Kane was good at smoothing ruffled feathers, and smart enough to keep his mouth shut and not try and take advantage of his rank.

“True, but it’s still what I’m supposed to be doing. Why am I back in Ottawa?”

“Something you’re not going to like, and something you’re going to love.” Heather grinned and slid a file across the desk. Garrison opened it and skimmed the first page, taking a moment to absorb it before slowly putting it back down on the desk.

“We’re back in business?”

“That’s right. Parliament just approved the Director’s proposed timeline for reactivating the Alpha Flight program.”

“This is Colcord’s work?”

“Mostly. A couple of us workshopped the details, but he gave it the juice.” Heather caught the look on his face. “Yeah, I know it sounds weird because he was the one that shut us down in the first place. But I’ll give the Old Man this, he did have a point. Our original structure was a little slipshod. Mac’s a brilliant inventor, but administration isn’t always his strong suit. We never got a proper operating team going, we had people bouncing in and out. The only time it really worked was when we had Marie and Logan here.”

Garrison nodded. He had been training with the team regularly at that time, and he’d noticed the failures between his work with Canadian military units, the RCMP, and the attempted doctrine that the Hudsons had worked on for Alpha Flight. The decision to cancel the team hadn’t been a big surprise, especially when it was obvious that they weren’t fit to face a mutant threat. “Three teams?”

“If all goes well, yes. In thirty-six months. One team tasked directly to the military, one to the RCMP, and one to the government for disaster relief and public relations. Eugene is already vetting the current list of Beta Flight applicants and graduates, trying to pull up some preliminary candidates.” Heather said, a little relieved. She’d been worried that Alpha Flight, a program she strongly believed that the country needed, could have been buried forever.

“That’s fantastic, Heather. I see you’re the project manager still. Official liaison once it’s all working?”

“That’s the idea.” She put the files down as the receptionist opened the door.

“Mrs Hudson, the Minister is here.”

“Thanks, Amy.” Both of them stood as an older man walked in, a smile on his reddened face. “Garrison, I believe you know our Under Minister of National Defense (Special Projects).”

“Of course, the formerly Right Honourable Robert Gordon MacDonald. Your Excellency,” Kane grinned as he shook hands with the man.

“Inspector Kane. I’m glad to see the RCMP still hasn’t taught you respect yet. I might not recognize you otherwise.” Minister MacDonald settled himself into a chair and raised his hands, palms up, in front of his chest. “So, you’ve heard about the relaunch of Alpha Flight?”

“Yes sir. I’m very excited to get started.”

“Ah… I see I’m early. Mrs.Hudson?”

“I hadn’t gotten around to telling him yet, Minister.”

“Telling him what?” Kane cocked his head, regarding them both suspiciously. Heather sighed and slid over another file.

“One of the findings on developing Alpha Flight is that we tried to duplicate different formats from existing systems; military, police, hell, we even looked at sports systems. None of them ever adequately addressed the unique structure of a mutant response team.” Heather nodded at the file. “We’re determined not to make that mistake again.”

Garrison read the file much slower, carefully taking it in while considering what they were saying. “You’re kidding, eh?”

“Not at all, Inspector.” MacDonald clasped his hands and leaned forward. “The most successful modal for us to use for Alpha Flight is that of Charles’ Xavier’s X-Men. They’ve had almost five years of operation, and at least three and a half with increasing frequency. Their system works, and we want to know how.”

“Yeah, it’s amazing what you can do when you can just ignore the law.”

“Garrison—“

“I’m sorry, Heather, Minister, but I’m not the right person for this.”

“I disagree, Inspector, and I want to tell you why.” MacDonald pressed two fingers to his bottom lip, arranging his thoughts before he spoke. “We’re looking at offering Xavier’s group an arrangement in exchange for taking on a liaison to oversee how their training and teams operate. That means, as long as they don’t egregiously break Canadian law, we’ll turn a blind eye to their operations inside Canada. But the Prime Minister isn’t about to cede sovereignty without certain assurances, which is where you come in.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You’re an officer of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, Kane. Trained and sworn in as part of the finest police force this country has. We know that Xavier’s operates outside of the law, but not without the knowledge of their government. We want the same if they need to be inside Canada, and there’s no one better to provide that.” MacDonald tapped his lip again. “We know how seriously you take your oath, Garrison. No matter what, we know you’ll decide things as a Canadian first, a police officer second, and with consideration to Xavier third.”

“Even with that being the case, how am I supposed to operate as an officer of the law while being a vigilante?” Kane’s discomfort was real.

“Garrison, the mutant question is complex, and sometimes it demands unorthodox responses, like the X-Men.” He held up a hand to forestall Kane’s next statement. “And the X-Men are a uniquely American creation, and we are not looking to duplicate the nature of the team itself, just the operational structure of it. The questions are different, the situations are different. Consider that mutant registration is still a major issue in the United States, and you’ve got an idea of the differences right there. Besides, the American government isn’t far from formally acknowledging the school, or so we believe. But if that debacle this week in Prague taught us anything, it’s that we don’t have the luxury of time to consider delaying this any longer.”

“Besides, your connection with Marie and Logan will serve you well down there.” Heather said. “Look, Garrison, it’s up to Professor Xavier to decide whether or not you go into the field with the X-Men, work at the school, anything. Our offer only requires that you have access to the team and its training and operational make up, and that any situation on Canadian soil or involving Canadian citizens has you present as a representative. That’s it. If you feel strongly about it, you can choose not to operate with the X-Men.”

“But you’re sending me down there for that reason.”

“Yes.”

“Why not Eugene or Jean-Paul? Hell, he’s already served on the team once.” Garrison pointed out, but MacDonald shook his head.

“Eugene is a fine soldier and trainer, but he doesn’t have the background to draft the kind of comprehensive study we need, and Jean-Paul doesn’t have the military or police training to evaluate it properly.” MacDonald flipped the file closed and slid it over. “Besides, Garrison, if anyone has the right mindset to avoid conflict with Xavier’s cult of personality, it’s you. He’s a great man, and it’s not surprising that people are willing to follow him with such dedication. We think Jean-Paul’s priorities would be conflicted, while yours will not.”

“Why?”

“You’re too bloody minded and thick for it to be an issue.” Heather said flatly. “Kane, we trust Xavier’s as far as we could willingly trust an organization such as his. We’ve got long connections with that school, and it’s time to make that work for us.”

“If this is a public relations stunt, I’m going to be drastically unimpressed, Minister.”

“No. In fact, your association with the school will not be official. We’ve been speaking with Deputy Assistant Director Fred Duncan with the FBI. He’s their mutant case specialist. He’s offered to do an agent swap with the RCMP. We’ll take one of their people up to fill your spot in British Columbia, and you’ll be attached to the New York field office. You will have some duties there, but nothing too strenuous.” MacDonald settled back further in his chair. “We’re hoping that Xavier will offer you a place in both the school and on the team. We’ll brief you every few weeks, so keep your notes current. In the event of any missions on Canadian soil or involving Canadian citizens, you will be present as an observer at the very least. We know you’ll use your full discretion on this.”

Kane rubbed his face tiredly. “Alright, fine. I’ll go, but on two conditions. One, if I decide that the school is directly involved in objectionable actions, I return here without any questions or argument. I am not going to assist in criminal actions, even at the orders of my government.”

“Done. Your second condition?”

“No public relations. I am not going to be a feature in MacLeans, or a soundbyte in the Commons. I am not some kind of Superhero Mountie to sell merchandise, and I won’t going into combat with some stupid disc strapped to my arm and painted with a maple leaf called ‘The Canadian Shield’ or anything equally ridiculous.”

“Agreed.” MacDonald said pokerfaced, as Heather surreptitiously kicked the circular cardboard wrapped package further out of sight under the desk. “When can you report?”

“Since I know you’ve already run my transfer papers while I was sitting out that, a day or so. I’ll drive down, get a sense of what is going on, and then drive up to get the rest of my files and things later.”

“Good luck, Inspector. I’m sure you’ll find Xavier’s a welcoming experience.”

“Yeah, I just hope I survive it, eh?”