[identity profile] x-cyclops.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] xp_logs
The X-Men get a call from Nick Fury, asking for assistance with a SHIELD investigation. Some old ghosts are never quite put to rest.


The Situation Room doors opened, and Scott gave Jean that faint, distracted smile she commonly saw from him in situations where he had something fairly significant on his mind. Like he couldn't not acknowledge her entrance into a room, but the bulk of his mind was elsewhere.

"She's just walked through the door, General," he said. It's Nick Fury, Jean, he added on the link. They had the advantage of being able to carry on a side conversation, speaker-phone or no speaker-phone. It was a good one to have, in situations like this.

"Mr. and Mrs. Summers," Fury's voice came from the speaker, followed by a mumbled aside of "...sounds like a bad action movie..." before the head of SHIELD could be heard clearing his throat and continuing. "There's a situation we've discovered in Alaska that I feel you should be made aware of. Cuttin' to the chase, I'd like to request your assistance with this particular problem."

"Go ahead, General," Jean said, sliding into one of the seats and leaning back. "We're always glad to help where we can."

"I'm not going to beat around the bush," Fury's bass voice sounded from the speakerphone, "The President's been cracking down on a lot of the old mutant research programs from the 70's and 80's that've been operating under the woodwork, thanks to you and your people bringing MISTRA out into the open. Most of it's been shutting down black-bag funding operations that've been going into offshore accounts, but recently we've uncovered an active operation, codenamed 'Taygetos'. We think it's a Mistra offshoot."

Remind me to recruit a few people to sit on Nathan when he hears about this, Scott sent to Jean, rubbing at his bridge of his nose for a moment while he thought of an answer that wasn't limited to 'Oh shit.' "What sort of operation are we talking about?"

The speakerphone hissed static for a moment, the telltale sign of an encrypted signal re-establishing itself. "It's based out of Alaska, up on the northwest coast. Financial reports go back about fifteen years. We've managed to pinpoint the facility through shipping manifests of high-end medical equipment. But as to the details, we're in the dark. And that's why I'm coming to you. You've got at least one former Mistra functionary in your operation, and you all were instrumental in taking down Carmella Ruiz's operations on Youra." Fury's voice was masked mostly by the quality of the secure call, but he sounded sincerely grateful and proud when he spoke of the team's contributions. "We'd like some of your people to come with our team on this, since we don't really know if we'll be meeting trained agents or if it's nothing more than a stockpile."

"Medical equipment?" Jean asked, cocking her head curiously. "That's new. I assume you don't mean just the sort of things you'd need to run a clinic for operatives like they found on Youra? Are you thinking this is a research lab?" I think nothing short of Cain sitting on him is going to stop Nate from going ballistic.

"Doctor Summers, I'm not going to lie to you," Fury replied through the phone, "I'd be a lot more comfortable if we knew exactly who, what, and how this operation was going down. But unfortunately, the plaque on my door don't say 'Director of Bein' Comfortable', it says 'Nicholas Fury, Director of SHIELD' and I'm telling you what our best minds think is up there. But you and I both know how dependable a wild-ass guess is. Could be a research lab, could be a training facility. Hell, it could be a bunch of damn accountants around a pool table. But it's running under the MISTRA umbrella, and that means it goes down."

"I don't think any of us here would disagree with you," Scott said. "I guess the problem is that we can't know, until we get a look at the place. Which means preparing for a range of possibilities." He looked sideways at Jean, smiling slightly and giving her a heads-up on the link as to what he was about to propose. She wasn't all that fond of certain kinds of surprises. "I think Dr. Summers would be the best person to lead our side of this. She's one of the most experienced people on the team, and if this turns out to be a research facility, you could use her expertise."

Jean nodded slowly at Scott, then said, "Yes, we can put together a team which would be viable in either case, I think, if that works for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Summers, Dr. Summers. I'll contact you with operational details shortly. Fury out."

"We're going to have to ask him for a ride," Scott said wryly once the connection was closed. "That hurts the dignity a little. Who do you think would be best to take with you?" He regarded her with honest curiosity as he waited for her answer; this was something new for her, after all. Which was decidedly odd, considering how long they'd both been doing this.

Jean gave him a wry look, the tactical flavor of his curiosity not escaping her. "Nate, of course," she said without hesitating. "Couldn't stop him, wouldn't try. Clarice, too, I think, in case this is a medical lab, but even if it's not she's versatile. With Nate and I we don't need more heavy hitters, but for close work I think... Angelo and Kyle." She paused, then frowned. "At the same time, someone who's not quite so intimately tied into the problem... Sam, maybe? Eyes in the sky if Nate and I are caught up, and can keep a level head whatever this turns out to be."

"Sounds good to me. I think, maybe... add Suzanne," he said after a moment. "I know she's a trainee, but she's not one of the kids, and her abilities could be useful. Plus, from what I've seen of her in training thus far she can keep her head." He rubbed at his jaw, not quite managing to suppress the sigh as he looked away. "Three years and suddenly Mistra's back on the radar again," he said, a definite note of regret in his voice. "Teach me to ever think a file is properly closed."

Jean nodded; he'd worked more with Suzanne one-on-one than she had, but she'd seen the training videos and had at least some idea of how the other woman worked. "Old files never close, they just fade away, and then come back and bite us on the ass?" she asked, only somewhat facetiously.

"Something like that." Scott leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath and then letting it out. Thinking. "Three years," he repeated. "This project had to have been buried pretty deeply if they didn't find it until now. I always wondered just how much of the... roots of the whole thing the original taskforce managed to dig out and kill. I somehow doubt that damned think-tank Gideon Faraday was attached to only consulted on Mistra itself."

"Some days I think we really are doomed to keep fighting the same battles over and over again." Jean sighed, then smiled wanly at Scott. "And this is me saying that. I'm meant to be the optimistic one."

"Let's pretend it's just a loose end." He leaned forward, this time, to the console, typing a message for the relevant beepers and hitting send. "When optimism fails, I find that sticking your fingers in your ears and going 'lalala' is a good substitute strategy."

"Hmmmm, I shall definitely keep that in mind for next time. Potentially a bit undignified, but what's a little dignity compared to the peace of mind some good, strong denial brings?" Jean asked with a smile.
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