Scott and Jean in Budapest

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

While playing the waiting game in Budapest and worrying about their stranded teammates, Scott and Jean find themselves unexpectedly distracted by Callery, who makes an introduction and a revelation.


Attending yet another meeting wasn't what he wanted to be doing, not when they still had X-Men lost in Iran. Intellectually, however, Scott knew that staying put and staying in contact was the best thing he and Jean could do right now. Even if whatever Farouk was trying to arrange fell through, heading back to Westchester would be pointless and heading to Israel would be jumping the gun.

And Charles had pointed out that what they were doing here was important, too, especially given that a good half of the meetings so far had been debriefings about Trask and Saidullayev. When there was nothing to be done immediately about one situation, one might as well be working at another, the Professor had said.

Scott just wished he could buy that, on the gut level.

"They didn't give us an agenda for this one," he muttered to Jean, an unmistakable tone of complaint in his voice as they headed towards the door of the conference room. They'd been to this same room yesterday, hence turning down the offered escort. Nice that they trust us to wander around their Ministry of Defense... Apparently stopping the assassination attempt had won them a few more points around here. "Last time they did that, Barath showed up unexpectedly and then we were getting shot at."

Jean was doing much better, what with the rest and the being away from all the fuss at the school. Hell, if it weren't for the fact that it was Scott walking next to her and how well he knew her, probably nobody would be able to tell she was favoring her side at all. "Yes, well," she said, "if anyone decides to shoot at us today, I'm going to be very cranky. We've had our quota of being shot at for the month."

Scott muttered something about it being too bad that the Iranians likely wouldn't be keeping that in mind, and pushed the door to the conference room open. He stopped immediately, blinking at the sight of only two people waiting for them. And here I thought we were running a couple of minutes late.

One was Tanya Callery. The man with her was a stranger, and Scott sized him up thoughtfully. Mid-thirties and built like your average linebacker, he had sandy hair, a square jaw, and a bearing that all but screamed military.

"Summers," Callery greeted him. "Dr. Grey. Good morning."

"Morning," Scott said, guardedly, his eyes flickering to the other man, who inclined his head, but stayed silent.

"We were hoping we could talk to you about a matter of mutual interest," Callery said, a strange little smile playing on her lips.

Jean tensed slightly, then forced herself to relax. Callery was on the good guys' side now. Or at least a good guys side. "Good morning," she said, nodding.

Scott continued to eye the other man. Callery, after a moment, gave a laugh that was startlingly sweet-sounding. "Oh, unclench, Summers. This is Peter Lakatos - you would have met him this morning anyway. He's the lucky guy who's been tapped to eventually lead this proposed team of ours."

"Possibly," Lakatos said. "There is a list of candidates."

"Let's be serious, Peter, you're the best-qualified," Callery shot back. "He's one of the mutants who slipped through the 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. Mostly because he behaved himself and precognitives are so damned useful."

Scott did relax - mostly. "Sorry if I came off as uncivil," he said, extending his hand to the other man. If this man was likely to be his and Ororo's opposite number over here in Hungary at some point, it would be good to be on good terms. "I don't know if Ms. Callery's told you, but she and we have met before, in a way, and it's a little jarring still to walk into a room and see her."

"I'm aware of Tanya's checkered past," Lakatos said, shaking Scott's hand. His voice was deep and slightly gravelly. Closer up, Scott could see the fine tracery of scars on the man's hands and one side of his face. "I was part of the group that went over her background, at the NBH - recommended against hiring her, if the truth be told."

#NBH is the Hungarian National Security Office,# Scott sent to Jean, intrigued. #So an intelligence background, too. I'd have guessed him for military when we walked in here, though.#

#I'd never have guessed...# There was only a hint of wryness in her tone, and Jean flashed a smile at Scott and then smoothly transfered it to Lakatos. "Pleasure to meet you," she said.

Callery raised an eyebrow at the man beside her. But there was a surprising amount of humor in the look; the two of them were on good terms with each other, Scott thought. The relaxed body language told the tale. "He's telling the truth about trying to stop them from hiring me, by the way. Fortunately my qualifications were enough to convince the rest of Peter's working group to overlook-"

"Her past experience working for a mutant supremacist," Lakatos said. "And now I usually would stop and allow her to deliver her usual two-minute tirade on professionalism and why it's the quality of the employee rather than the employer that's important in her line of work. It's usually very tiresome, but I'm a tolerant man."

"Oh, stop it."

#Do you have the sense that we're watching a stand-up comedy routine?# Scott sent to Jean.

#Actually, it's remarkably like watching you and Ororo...# "If there's going to be storytelling, is there any chance we could sit down?" Jean cut in, widening her smile to make up for the abruptness. "I'm afraid I got a little bit battered the other week and I'd greatly appreciate it."

"Of course," Lakatos said immediately, looking contrite. "I'm sorry. We make light - well, it's either that or hit things, this week," he concluded with a slightly self-deprecating smile as Scott made sure Jean was settled before taking a seat of his own. Callery took a seat as well, and Scott noticed with a perverse twist of humor that her feet didn't reach the ground.

Looks were definitely deceiving. "It's not been a good week," Scott agreed. "We've got something of a crisis back home, as well - waiting to hear about a next course of action." It was as diplomatic a way as he could think of to apprise them that he and Jean might be a bit distracted this morning.

Lakatos looked grave; Callery tilted her head. "Sorry to hear that. We'll keep this short, then," she said, very matter-of-factly. "But we wanted you to know what was going on, given that if you don't it might come back to bite - me, in particular." She took a deep breath and went on. "I'm going to be breaking the less-injured of our two female assassins out of custody and going with her back to Trask. To join up."

Scott just stared.

Jean blinked, face blank, but her mind was racing. On the one hand, it would be an amazing thing to have someone on the inside with Trask, and Callery was definitely the type Trask would take to in an instance. On the other, the shorter woman had a history, and even if everything went like clockwork, she'd still be reporting to Barath and not them. "Yes," she said slowly. "I can see why you'd want to keep us in the loop on that..."

"We'd want to share any intelligence she was able to give us," Lakatos said, sounding earnest. "Full and complete disclosure - we owe you, and from what our government's been told, it seems more likely that your people will find themselves dealing with this Trask and the Chechen sooner than ours will."

Lakatos's gaze was very direct. Scott wasn't prone to snap judgements, but he was getting the definite sense that this was a man who meant what he said when he said it. "That's a good possibility," he said slowly. "You're overlooking something, though-" That, he directed at Callery. "We know that Trask has to have a telepath with her, and that she herself can eavesdrop on your subconscious. How do you expect to maintain your cover?"

Callery smiled - much more faintly, this time. There was something slightly haunted-looking in her dark eyes, just for an instant. It was there and gone so quickly that Scott half-wondered if he'd imagined it. "There were certain job requirements, with my previous employer. He took care of making sure that we fulfilled them himself." She turned her attention to Jean, squaring her shoulders. "Dr. Grey, would you care to try and read me?"

Jean's eyebrows went up, but she nodded after the slightest of pauses and lowered her shields to reach towards the other woman.

It was kind of like trying to watch a television channel which had been crossed with a second broadcast, neither of which was coming through properly. Images and sounds jumbled confusingly over each other and there were odd flashes of what might have been immediate reactions and impressions, but she couldn't tell for all the, for lack of a better word, static. Trying to sort it all out was giving Jean a headache, and while it might have been possible, maybe, if she'd had a month to work on it and Charles' help, Jean could tell that Callery was as safe as it was possible to be.

Dropping the scan with a tiny wince she asked, "Doesn't that all give you a headache?" Because it was impossible that the psychic chaos with which Gideon (it had to have been Gideon) had overlaid her mind didn't leak at least a little into her conscious thoughts.

Callery's smile was ghostly. "Migraines. Regularly. But it makes me even more of a tempting recruit, I'd think? Trask has to know that there are a number of telepaths looking for her and her people."

"And you could parrot your former boss's philosophy and really win her over," Scott said a bit darkly, but then shook his head. "I'm sorry. You're proposing something that might do a lot of good, for all of us - I suppose I'm just wondering why."

Callery gave him a very level look. "Because it's my job to protect the Prime Minister, and I hardly think that they're going to leave him alone just because they missed him once. I have a chance to take the proactive approach, rather than waiting around for the next man with a rocket launcher. Do you know how rarely that sort of opportunity comes to people with my job?"

"This woman, the pyrokinetic," Lakatos said, "she approached Tanya when she sat in on an interrogation session several days ago. Appealing to her as a fellow mutant - and a woman, which I found odd."

"No, that makes sense," Jean said, shaking her head. "The philosophy Trask corrupted wasn't anti-male, but it is very pro-female, and Trask's interpretation of it more so. When she was teaching at an American college, too, she founded a group which was exclusively female."

"Anyway. I've had another very carefully stage-managed conversation with her, to make her think she struck a chord. And we've created a cover story. I'm going to claim I was about to be fired for incompetence and possibly brought up on charges." Callery's nose wrinkled, as if the thought offended her - or as if she was reflecting that it could have been a little too close to the mark. Scott reflected that a good portion of the blame and possibly some outright suspicion would have fallen on her, given her background, had the assassination attempt been successful. "Hopefully it'll work. If not... well, I can probably get back out. I'm hard to kill."

Lakatos shot her a hard look, wordless protest in his eyes. She shrugged, and he grimaced, then looked back at Scott and Jean. "I'll be joining the Prime Minister's security detail while Tanya's gone - although I have other duties, so I won't be formally named her replacement. But whatever she learns will come through me to you. We want to keep those in the know a relatively small circle."

"So that no one can easily eavesdrop on our subconscious thoughts," Scott finished for him. "It makes sense. Even setting aside the risks, though, this might be a long-term thing," he pointed out to Callery.

She shrugged. "When I take a job, I take a job, Summers. I don't put 'best before' dates on my contracts."

#This is awfully committed for a hired bodyguard,# Scott commented to Jean, trying not to sound as skeptical as he felt.

#Do you know how much she's getting paid?# Jean asked facetiously, then added, #Seriously, though, Barath does tend to... inspire people.#

Scott sent a mental snort back, then looked back at Callery. "Well, I think I can speak for both of us in wishing you luck. It's a hell of an undertaking. I'd be careful as you can be, in your place. We don't know who all she's got working with her, but her Chechen friend alone is damned dangerous."

Callery nodded briefly. "I know. Hopefully at the very least, I can fill in some of those blanks in her file. We all need more to work with if any of us is going to stop her from-"

"Starting a war," Lakatos said, getting a quick, wary look from Callery. The look he gave her in return was verging on implacable. "That is what I'm afraid of, Tanya. What happens if she is successful and there are only mutants like her or Magneto or one of the other militants seeking a position of leadership."

"Yes, that's more or less our nightmare scenario, too," Jean said, looking serious. "Part of why we're interested in shutting her down." The other part, of course, was personal.

"You're all thinking very big," Callery said, but the dry tone didn't seem quite sincere. "I prefer to focus on one thing at a time." She rose, an odd sort of dignity about her demeanor as she continued. "And I have a number of things to do, so I should be going. Plan is to stage the break-out tomorrow, and I have some personal business that needs settling tonight."

"Well... good luck," Scott said, stumbling a bit over his words. Although the sentiment itself was sincerely meant. He got a very slight smile from Callery, before she nodded to Jean.

Jean nodded in return, eyes serious. "Yes, good luck, and take care."

Lakatos watched her go, an odd look in his eyes that could have meant a number of different things. As the door closed, he turned back to Scott and Jean, his smile looking slightly forced. "We may as well wait for the next meeting," he said. "It should be starting shortly, and I was due to attend. While we wait, however, there is something else we might speak about."

"Oh?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Lakatos said dryly. "Before my change of career, I was with our special forces - the 34th Recon Battalion, Bercsenyi Laszlo. I served with Joszef Veres. In fact," he said into the silence that tidbit had provoked, "I was his commanding officer."