Scott and Peter Lakatos, Saturday night

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott gets a surprise phone call from Peter Lakatos, asking to be picked up at the airport. Nimrod's made an appearance in the Hungarian precog's visions, and the Brotherhood may be in New York.


"I'm getting the sense that this isn't a social visit," Scott said as he settled back into the driver's seat, his gaze flickering sideways to make sure Lakatos put on his seatbelt. Old driving instructor's habits died hard. "You were a little curt on the phone."

"I notice you came to pick me up with no questions asked," the Hungarian said dryly. He looked composed, and not at all like he'd just walked off a flight from Budapest, but Scott had noticed the tension around the other man's eyes right away. You didn't need to be a telepath to pick up on the signs of stress, even when the person involved was this good at poker faces.

"By now I have faith that you're not going to waste my time." Scott left it alone for long enough to get out of the parking lot. Driving in parking lots still left him a little nervous from time to time, given his diminished field of vision. "So?" he prodded once they were on the road.

"So, I've had a vision."

"I see." How to practically apply Lakatos's short-team precog within the eventual context of the team the Hungarians were putting together had been a frequent subject of conversation between the two of them over the last year. It was a challenge. What Lakatos saw, he saw without any of the metaphorical layers that other precogs had to deal with. But he saw only violent events that he himself was involved in, and only within a 48-hr window. "And it brought you all the way here?"

"Yes, given that I'm fairly sure I saw myself fighting Joszef Veres in the middle of New York."

Scott managed to keep the car from swerving - almost. "Oh, joy," he muttered.

"I couldn't not come," Lakatos said, sounding weary. "I thought of simply calling and giving you the information - it's what the Prime Minister urged me to do. But what if my presence is necessary?"

Barath had wanted him not to come? Scott wondered at that, then settled on the likeliest explanation for why Lakatos was here anyway. "You think you're the one who draws him out?"

"I don't know, Scott. But I know that if there's a chance, I have to take it. He needs to be in prison," Lakatos said, more harshly. His jaw was set in a stubborn line. "Preferably a Hungarian prison, but I'll settle for an American one."

"Some people would question your sanity, making him a personal cause after what he did to you." Scott spotted Lakatos wince, and grimaced apologetically. "Sorry. I know this isn't a revenge thing." It would have been for most people, but he was fairly sure Lakatos had come to terms years ago with being the sole survivor of Nimrod's original rampage. No, with him it's an entirely different kind of obsession...

Lakatos would have manifested in a Hungary only starting to adapt to Barath's reforms. It only made sense that he was particularly devoted to the system those reforms had produced, and Veres was certainly the polar opposite of everything his former commanding officer stood for.

"I suspect I might know what's drawn him to New York," Scott finally said, mentally reviewing the last few days of newsfeed highlights. "The question is, is it just him, or are we looking at a Brotherhood action here?"

"Whatever it is, it happens soon," Lakatos said. "Tomorrow at the latest. At least in its original form."

"Damn," Scott muttered, grimly amused. "Let's not get into the observer effect, shall we? That's always such a scary thing when you apply it to precogs."

Lakatos cracked a smile. "How do you think we feel?"