Mission: Fin Fang Foom!!! - Kane, Christian Kane

[x-dominion.livejournal.com]

Garrison is enjoying the sun when a surprise visitor drops by. Things do not exactly go well.



Finally a nice sunny day. Garrison had decided to take advantage of his day off by relaxing on the front porch. The kids had already crowded the pool, and today was more a nice day to quietly sit and enjoy the sun without two dozen shrieking mutant children jumping in and out of the pool twenty feet from you, or running pall mall down the path to the lake. Kane had taken out a stack of newspapers to read, but had barely made it past the first one before carefully settling his Jays cap over his eyes and passing out for a nap.

He'd heard the term 'rude awakenings' before, but this was truly his first experience of a single phrase jolting him from sleep to a state of wired shock at the second his brain processed it.

"I see you're learning guard duty now, boy." The low burr, a product of a childhood raised by a Scots grandfather and an even less comprehensible house matron, was something intimately familiar to him. The deep tones, the slight shushing noise of the 'ess' sounds, and most of all, the tone somewhere between amusement and disinterest. Garrison carefully settled his cap back on his head.

"Hello Dad." It had been almost two years, but time barely seemed to touch Christian Kane, Garrison's father. Since he'd been a child, his father had been the same tall, broad shouldered figure, with a white beard and the mane of hair gathered back into a loose ponytail. He'd already been older when Garrison was born, but now, it seemed like once he'd finally hit the age of retirement, he simply stopped going further. "What are you doing here?"

"A father needs an excuse to visit his son?"

"No, but you do." Obviously the Kanes did not emulate a traditional happy reunion. The mansion was used to Garrison being a relaxed, generally amiable guy. He usually had a smile or a joke most of the time, and didn't ever seem to take anything personally. But now, that was gone, and his stance and tone were only slightly away from being openly hostile.

"I see you haven't changed a bit." Christian said as he stepped forward, getting a good look at his son. "Is this the part where we circle each other for a while?"

"This is the part where you get back in a cab and fuck right the hell off." Kane snapped, but the only reaction it earned from his father was a slightly sad smile.

"I suppose you feel I deserve that."

"Actually, what I feel you deserve is closer to one of those laser guided shark tank traps you used to talk about, but this time without the watch with the sonic emitter." Garrison said, as if it made perfect sense. "But really, I just don't have time for this right now. If this is some kind of attempt to apologize--"

"Apologize? I think you're mistaken if you feel I owe you an apology." Christian said as Garrison's look turned incredulous.

"Alright, putting aside the incredibly fucked up way you bounced in and out of our lives as kids, and what you did to Mom, the little disappearing act involving her funeral was the last straw, eh. Vikks, she might forgive and forget but I'm not about to."

"Of course not. You never liked it when things weren't exact and judged in your world. Which is why you turned yourself into a damn cop right when you were starting to get interesting." Christian shot back, and now the two men yelling at each other on the patio were starting to draw stares.

"Do you think that might be a reaction to having a father who's entire life was based around ignoring the laws he didn't like, Carl Jung? Little things like assassination, sabotage, oh and that funny little marriage vow? Which you kept, what, long enough to get out of the church?"

"You don't have all the facts, boy. Certainly not to try and judge my life." Kane forced his lips together for a moment and took a deep breath. "There are times when things have to come before your family. I would think, living her, you might have learned a little something about that."

"I was sent here by the Canadian government--"

"You came because no matter what you like to tell yourself, you're a Kane. And as much as you might want to hate me for it, you know the reasons why." Christian cut him off.

"Oh yeah, sure. What was her name? Karen? Or Ivana, or... Miss Wallace, my second grade teacher. Sorry Dad, remind me the noble duty that had you fucking for Queen and country. I still can't believe Mom was dumb enough to let you get away with it for so lo--" Christian's slap stopped Garrison talking. It wasn't that hard; a sharp and fast blow that despite all his mutant gifts, Kane still wasn't expecting.

"Don't ever disrespect your mother, boy. Not to me." Christian took a step back. "I'm sorry for that. And I'm sorry that you don't understand that you don't really know what you think you do. It's complex, Garrison, your mother and I."

"I'm sure it is." Kane muttered, rubbing the side of his cheek and wondering how his father made him feel fifteen again.

"Sulking is hardly your best side." Christian pointed out, trying to salvage a smile from the situation and failing. "I came here to see you. I also came here to talk to Xavier and your team."

"I fucking knew it. No. Not a chance. I don't care what lunacy you've got cooking. Go ask Pete. He's in the city." And the implication that Wisdom was at least reliable, while Christian was not didn't fail to reach the older man.

"I'm not asking you, boy." Kane replied, with the tone of finality that Garrison knew well. "Come on. Let's sit and have a drink and talk. Hmm? You and I. After I speak we them, maybe we can--"

"The drink sounds like a good idea. But I think that's going to be a solo mission this time, Agent Kane." Garrison said, with a miserably cruel twist to his voice. "I'm sure you've probably already researched the way." He said, motioning at the house before snatching up his papers and walking off down the drive, towards Harry's.

Sir Christian Kane sighed as his son brushed past, and with a shake of his head, walked through the front door of the mansion and nearly into a student peeping at the exchange. The young man looked at at him and Christian smiled.

"Xavier's office please. Don't worry. I doubt he'll yell at me too."

Christian is directed to Scott's office to discuss the information that he's brought to the mansion.



They could have gone straight to the Situation Room, Scott supposed, but he wasn't in the habit of taking strangers downstairs on first meeting, even if they did happen to be related to one of his X-Men. He'd toyed with the idea of asking Garrison to join them in his office, but had eventually decided that it was best to hear out Kane Senior in private first. If Wisdom had directed him to the X-Men, best
not to clutter things with family issues just yet.

Christian Kane had taken the seat opposite the desk, a slightly bemused expression on his face. He'd worn that quirky part smile ever since being introduced to Scott, looking more like a wealthy retiree than an intelligence officer. Which of course was probably the point. Garrison spoke very little about his father, only mentioning that he'd been an agent back in the 60s and 70s, and from there had gone on to head the covert side of Britain’s intelligence forces for close to two decades, training people like Pete Wisdom in the process.

"I'm impressed with your setup here, Scott. The passive security is very well arranged, especially in light of the need to remain an operating school. My compliments to your designer." Christian said,
his burr pleasantly strong, but not enough to render him incomprehensible.

"We've had two of the best," Scott said, turning the chair beside Christian's around slightly, to face the other man, and sat down, rather than taking the chair behind the desk. This wasn't a disciplinary chat with a student, after all. "The staff tends to handle the more active security, obviously."

"Yes, I've seen the footage from San Diego. Very impressive." Christian noted. "I know that you had Kuk here before, but if you ever want to share the name of your tech designer, since this is far beyond
Kuk's capabilities, do let me know."

"... there's a story that would take some time to tell." Scott gave a small, quizzical shake of his head, and then made himself focus on the here and now. "What can we do for you, Mr. Kane? Family connections aside, I'm assuming Pete had a good reason to direct you to us rather than offering help from his people."

"I should think so, yes. I'm retired, of course, but before then, I worked for Her Majesty’s intelligence for a number of years. Even now, I tend to come across the occasional bit of information that proves
useful. Unfortunately, the situation isn't as simple as just passing it along to the proper authorities." Kane leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees in a manner that they had seen Garrison do dozens of times during briefings. "China takes in a great deal of shipping through what they call the Manchurian route; a rail link and sea passage through the Sea of Japan and past Korea. Recently, a number of British merchant marine ships using that route have simply vanished."

"'Vanished' rather than 'been lost'," Scott observed. "No evidence of what's happening?"

"Not the slightest, which you can imagine is causing some worry for both my government and the Chinese. You generally don't lose a two hundred tonne cargo vessel like a set of misplaced car keys." Kane noted wryly. "All of the shipments have been lost in international waters, but near the junction where Korean, Russian and Japanese waters are closest. The shipments, for the most part, were expensive systems for the Chinese aerospace industry. Extremely valuable to them, both for industrial concerns and militarily. Which of course means that they think the Russians are involved, and are moving a fleet into the region. Russia is moving their Pacific fleet as well, worried about some kind of sneak attack, and the Koreans are on a hairtrigger because two of the world's largest powers are inches away from a fight on their doorstep."

"Awkward sort of situation." It didn't take too much to put two and two together, as to why Kane was here. "I'm guessing the ideal resolution would be to stop the disappearances and find out who's
responsible, before anyone starts jumping to conclusions – with missiles."

"They are a misplaced sneeze away from another Jutland, yes." Kane said, gesturing with his hands. "Fortunately, I have some idea of what's going on. Have you ever heard of a man named Zhang Tong?"

"The Mandarin," Scott said, without so much as blinking in surprise. "Yes. Some of our people encountered him recently."

"Indeed. He's a Chinese nationalist, hates the Communist regime, and believes himself the natural heir of a restored Imperial China. Insane, but powerful in influence with both business and the Triads. Of the ships that disappeared, all of them have carried art pieces being returned to China for whatever reason. I've got good reason to suspect that he's responsible, given his fanatical devotion to acquiring any Chinese artwork of value held by anyone other than 'true' Chinese." Kane tapped his finger on the desk. "If he's involved, I know his next target. I just need to know how he's doing it. Anyone who can make a whole ship disappear or sink without a trace is going to take more power to counter than Wisdom's people can muster."

Scott smiled slightly. "Ah. Well, generally we are good at the heavy lifting..."

"Good, because I'd like to ask you to put a team on the next boat Tong is sure to target, and find out how he's doing in. In the meantime, either more of your people, or Wisdom's group, can accompany me into the Mandarin's personal quarters, to make sure that he doesn't get a chance to play silly buggers with World War 3 again any time soon."

"Preferably my people," Scott said. "I trust Pete and his people implicitly, but I suspect this is one of those situations where we should be more concerned with getting the job done and less with trying to find a middle ground between different operational styles. I assume that given your connections, you're prepared to facilitate us getting on-site?"

"I have the odd friend who can help us, yes. There's a ship leaving Japan tomorrow; the Bonaventure. The captain is an old associate, and his cargo is some extremely advanced technology as part of a British-China partnership on their space program. As well as a collection of rare jade sculptures returning from a tour down your west coast. The Mandarin is sure to make an attempt on that prize." Kane straightened back up. "I'll need four or five people to deal with him; a couple to serve as a distraction, and at least a pair who are combat trained."

Distraction. "I have a few ideas," Scott said, getting up. "But I think we should continue this conversation downstairs. Easier to plan, with the resources in the Situation Room."

"Excellent." Kane said with a smile as he got to his feet. "Despite the fact that this is likely my son's worst nightmare, I'm looking forward to seeing how you X-Men operate."

Well, that didn't sound promising. Then again, it wasn't as a difficult parental relationship was a new thing around here, Scott reminded himself. "We'll get the basic planning done before I
call the team down for a briefing," he said. "Saves time."Charles? he thought in the general direction of the Professor's office. I'm taking Mr. Kane downstairs.

"Good. I should likely let my wife know I won't be home for dinner in the meantime." Kane said as they left the room.

While Scott starts the preperations for the mission, Christian goes off to do what he does best; dig up a little intelligence about his son. Unfortunately, Garrison's girlfriend seems to share his opinion about the elder Kane.



Bright and sunny, all without Storm's help. There were certainly summer days that didn't need any assistance, as the big windows of the mansion's first floor spilled fat sunbeams across the hallway floors. The usual crush of kids had already run past, no doubt just released from some class as they headed for the pool during lunch. The recent heat had made the outdoor swimming pool a very crowded environment.

That didn't help Marie D'Ancato, considering the conflicts her powers would cause, leaving her to spend her own lunch hour doing something less exciting, such as actually eating something. Garrison had mentioned something about going into town to get a bite, but the Canadian had been unsually absent at her office when noon hit, leaving her to make her own arrangements.

"Miss D'Ancato." A warm accented voice with a low burr cut across her hearing, jolting her out of her own thoughts. It took a second to locate it; a tall man in a loose cut white shirt and a pair of khakis, leaning against the wall between two of the windows. From his position, anyone coming down the hall would be momentarily dazzled by the sun, and likely miss seeing him immediately like Marie did. He took a step forward, a confident smile on his bearded face. He had obviously been very handsome, and was still striking for an older man, with the easy smile and the long ponytail of white hair casually hanging down past his shoulders. "Perhaps I can interest you in some lunch?"

The man looked strangely familiar, but Marie couldn't immediately place him, so she kept her distance as she smiled politely. "Perhaps introductions would be in order first sir, as Ah see you are at an advantage and already know who I am." Holding out a gloved hand, her eyes took in the man's features as she continued to try and place what was making him look forward.

"I make it a habit to try and have the advantage over pretty young women." The man said, taking her hand and bowing over it. The burr had dropped lower as he did, meeting her eyes with his own as he stepped forward, closer than she would have expected from a stranger before she could react. "Which is why I suggested lunch, of course. Such a pleasent way to get to know someone, over a meal and a glass of wine."

Marie barely kept an eyebrow from shooting up through her brow as she watched the man's performance. When he moved into what she maintained as her personal boundary, it was all she could do to not take a step back in response to his move. "Ah notice you still haven't told me your name," she said as she extracted her hand from his. "Ah don't make a habit of going to eat with strangers."

"We're hardly strangers, after all. You might say that we're almost family." He said, obviously enjoying the situation and the confusion that he was creating in the young woman. "My name is Kane. Christian Kane. Actually, it's Sir Christian, but that's only useful for getting a better table at good restaurants."

Now it was time to keep her jaw from dropping. "Oh," was about all she managed at first, before clearing her throat softly and smiling at the man who was apparently Garrison's father. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." It just woulda been nice to get some warning first.

"Is it? I have some difficulty in believing that my son would say anything of the sort that would make you want to ever meet me." Kane said, not without a degree of amusement. Obviously Christian had spent a long time twisting people's words and thoughts around, avoiding the pleasentries that most people relied on.

Marie kept the smile on her face besides having a sudden understanding of why Garrison rarely talked about his father and why his voice changed when he did. "Ah see you are quite aware of your son's feelings, Mr. Kane." Which makes me wonder why you don't change. "So what brings you to town?"

"I had some business here, and decided it would be a good time to catch up. After all, it has been some time." Kane's smile never wavered an inch. Obviously, the older man was used to putting up whatever mask was needed. "Since my son has decided that he has other priorities, I thought it would be a good time to try and meet his significant other."

Ah'm such a lucky girl. "Well, you did say something about lunch. Perhaps we could grab a bite to eat and get to know each other a little better." Not that Ah don't already know enough. Marie kept the sardonic tone for her internal thoughts, her words coming out mostly normal, if perhaps a bit soft.

Following lunch, Christian runs across one of the other of his son's friends, as Logan makes a deal that could eventually mean far more than he'd intended.



Logan sank into one of the lounge's overstuffed chairs to enjoy a smoke and a beer after lunch. He'd had an excellent run down in the Danger Room that morning and it was a beautiful day. He pulled his hat down low over his face and his dog-tags had worked themselves free from under his shirt and lay exposed against his chest. Just a little time to relax before plunging back into the routine.

It wasn't long before the scent of Marie and someone else was in the air, and a man with a deep Scottish burr said goodbye to her before continuing on into the lounge itself. He was tall, and old, although still strong and vigerous looking. His hair and beard were white, and his ponytail fall down past his shoulders.

Logan lifted up his hat and studied the newcomer. Some longhair, but he knew how to move. Interesting. And not someone who normally hung out at the Mansion. "Hey." he grunted by way of a hello. Something about this guy was tickling his memory. Something fairly important.

"Good afternoon." He said pleasantly enough, before settling into an opposite chair and picking up the newspaper. He snapped it open crisply, pausing only to settle a pair of bifocals over his eyes before reading.

Finally, his treacherous brain pulled out a name. "Christian Kane?" he asked, astonished.

Gar's old man.

Small world.

Christian folded down one side of the paper he was reading and leaned to look at Logan. "Yes, that's me. Do I know you?"

"Know your kid." he said, putting his smoke down and his beer down. "What'd you ever do to him anyway?"

"Broke his mother's heart. It's a touch more complicated than that, obviously, but it always starts at the same root." Kane said, apparently unembarrassed by the admission. "You must be Logan, I take it? You match the descriptions both my children have passed along."

"That's what they call me." he said in just as easy of a tone. "Last Gar said I think you were doing bad things to bad people somewhere in Eastern Europe." he said with amusement. "What brings you to Westchester?" he asked, only sounding casual in the interest.

"Ah, yes, I can't imagine my son would have updated you. I've retired, or rather, been retired by the service. I spend most of my time sailing, around Australia and the South Seas these days. My new bride likes the tropics." Kane smiled. "As for the visit, I have some... concerns that the X-Men are going to help address, involving the current standoff in the Sea of Japan."

The news had been commenting on the react buildup of Russian and Chinese fleets in the international waters of the Sea of Japan, and the resulting tenseness that went along with it.

Logan snorted in amusement. "Dick-waving." he said dismissively. "The slants still dreams of empire, and the Nips never did take to losing very well. And as for Russia, well, the slumbering bear growls from time to time." he said with a grin of amusement.

"Well, these dicks have nuclear weapons on the tips, so I do have to take it seriously." Kane pointed out, refolding the newspaper. "Unfortunately, being retired means I have to be creative in terms of finding solutions."

"No more fucking off to put some hurt on the next idiot with ambitions?" he said with a chuckle. "Poor baby." A swallow of his beer and Logan was ready to keep talking. "That is what you did, right? Wetwork?"

"Dear boy, I haven't been in the field since the seventies. You might say I helped make the field for the last two decades. Unfortunately, the world changes and the rules change with it." Christian's smile was toothsome and confident. "So now things pivot on tiny groups who can stop natural disasters with their minds."

Logan snorted. He ... didn't remember the 1970s. Then he thought about it for a long moment or two. "Not for 30 years." he said thoughtfully. "You ever hear of Weapon X?" he asked.

Christian paused for a moment. "Some sort of bioweapons program, I think. Americans and the Canadians. I don't seem to recall much coming of it, at least not in the range of any of our interests."

Logan popped out his claws, then retracted them. "You're looking at their output." he said, then picked up his smoke to take a drag off it. "You gonna be around for long?" he asked.

"Not especially. I have some work for the X-Men in Asia. I believe we leave this evening." Christian hadn't even twitched when the claws came out, looking at them with interest. "Any other results of this Weapon X? I can't imagine many, since operatives like yourself would have stood out."

"There was one other. She's ... no longer with us." he said, keeping his voice nice and even. "If there were any others, I don't know about 'em. Part of the project was a complete memory wipe." Which is why he was following up on this very slender trail.

"Sensible, considering." Kane nodded. If you were going to put in the time to create a completely illegal mutant killing machine, you generally didn't want to leave the details in their heads. Which is why Christian had never bothered to advocate those kinds of programs. There were far too many perfectly legal ways to train a killing machine to bother. "You never made it to my level, but there are some people around the world who specialize in digging out this sort of business."

"What'll it cost me to get some names out of you?" he asked. Nothing good came for free, after all. It required some sort of compensation.

"That's a interesting offer. Since you're a friend of my son's, how about you can owe me one, in the future?" Kaen said easily, obviously intrigued by Logan's sudden admission of interest.

Logan scowled. Something that open-ended from somebody like Christian Kane ... could be some bad juju. "I won't be your assassin, nor will I run interference for any wetwork." he said after a long moment. "Barring that ... you have a deal."

"Agreed. I'll make a few inquires, and send something along in the next week or so. Assuming, of course, I don't end up getting killed beforehand, that is."

Logan waved that off. "Details." he said with a laugh. "You can't get me killed, so worry about yourself instead."

Comments

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>>>The slants still dreams of empire, and the Nips never did take to losing very well.<<<

OK, I know Logan's never going to be a poster boy for political correctness, but outright bigotry from a man so concerned with "giri" seems strange to me.