xp_logs | Fifth Column: Round Two

The X-Men regroup to tend the injured and take stock of the mess their operation turned into. Unfortunately, the day isn't over yet. The ambushes were just the first part of the plan.

Budapest's National Police Headquarters, was an impressive enough building from the outside, a glass and steel fortress with a sturdy yet oddly sinuous form. Thankfully, on the inside it was quite well-equipped, at least tonight, and the X-Men's walking wounded had had their injuries tended to shortly after walking through the door. The more seriously injured were at the nearest hospital, along with far too many of the police officers who'd accompanied them. At least they're in the hospital. Nathan still hadn't heard a final count on the casualties, but he knew already it was going to be too high.

He'd torn himself away from debriefing for long enough to go and beg a new ice pack from one of the medics; the bump on the back of his head from being thrown against the floor was throbbing steadily. On his way back out into the hall, he spotted Jennie sitting in a chair, looking like she was focusing all her attention on deep breathing.

"You all right?"

Jennie jumped and then looked up. It was Nate, as bruised as he ever was. "Truth or the lie?" Jennie said faintly. Her skin was pale and clammy, and she kept rubbing her hands against her thighs. Internally, she was agonizing over the fact that she still had not told anyone. She should gone to Scott, should have told him. But why? What purpose would that serve? It wasn't like she was planning on going through with it. That would be stupid and irresponsible. But those seemed to be her middle name lately. She rubbed her thighs again, the repetitive motion soothing her.

"I'd always prefer the truth," Nathan said, giving her a very direct look, "but I'll take it obscured by a lack of specifics, if you prefer." She didn't look well. "Just tell me you told the medics the truth when they asked you if you had any injuries they needed to know about."

"What if you walked into a situation that you knew you shitsure shouldn't be walking into? That it would be the height of irresponsibility to do so?" Visions of outraged screaming danced through Jennie's head. "But it wasn't because you were malicious, you just didn't think about it until was too late?"

Okay... "That's... a little contradictory," Nathan said after a moment. "You knew about it, but you didn't think of it?" Whatever was going on, she was clearly rattled. "Are we talking about something that has bearing on why we're here, or something personal?" he pressed.

"It, uh," Jennie sighed. The weight was just too much. Heart pounding, she decided it was time to confess.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered.

Nathan opened his mouth - and then closed it again. "Just when I think I've heard everything, doing this job," he said somewhat faintly.

"I haven't really told anyone. At all. I didn't want it to be real. I haven't even been to the doctor, and I don't know if I should because it's not like I'm going to keep it and--" Jennie took a deep breath and then buried her face in her hands. "I fucked up. Big time. I shouldn't be here."

"Hey." Nathan hesitated only for a moment before he set his ice pack down and put his arm around her shoulders. "No one's going to hear about it from me. And you're not hurt - no, you shouldn't be here, but it could have been a lot worse." Thank God it hadn't been. Inwardly, he felt a little ill at the thought of what could have happened.

"No, but guess who's going to catch hell from Fearless Leader when she gets home?" Jennie sighed and rubbed her thighs again. "I didn't think it would be a problem, but I kept putting off making an appointment and then this happened and oh fuck I just don't know what to do," Jennie cried, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I suspect he'll be more understanding than you think." There was a difference between willfully ignoring one's... condition and being too flustered by it to make decisions. "But you really do need to talk to him," Nathan said, more seriously. "And maybe to someone a little more, uh, female, to figure out what you're going to do. Jean, or Moira..."

"Yeah," Jennie said softly. "Probably Jean first thing when I get back. Then... then Scott." And then ...and then what?

Jennie closed her eyes and took another deep breath. One thing at a time, Stavros

"So I'm guessing I'm grounded then?" she looked back up at Nate.

"You're damned right you are," Nathan said with a brief smile. "Do you have any idea what my wife would do to me if she ever found out I didn't immediately ground you upon finding this out? Choice pieces of my anatomy, kiddo. Removed, minced, and fed to me in a haggis." He squeezed her shoulder, then withdrew his arm with a sigh. "Not to mention, I think our mission is quite conclusively over. Given that the Centre's blown to shit and far too many of Budapest's finest are in bodybags tonight."

He would have said more. He intended to say more - something reassuring, at the very least, even if part of him wanted to offer to beat up whoever had knocked her up, and another part was just praying it hadn't been Marius - but his head jerked around an instant before the door at the end of the hall crashed open and a very agitated-looking Lakatos came through at speed.

"What now?" Nathan said tightly, on his feet as Lakatos came up the hall.

"Callery," the Hungarian precog said hurriedly. "She's gotten in touch. There were two phases to Trask's plan. Not just the ambushes. She-"

"I see," Nathan said, his eyes unfocusing. Lakatos looked like he wanted to say something, but closed his mouth with a snap. "It makes a sick sort of sense. Why waste the opportunity?" His mouth twisted. "You've alerted your people?"

"Of course!"

"For the non-telepathic among us, can we have this conversation out loud?" Jennie interrupted dryly.

"They're planning to take opportunity of the mess they made and hit another target," Nathan said curtly, tugging at the jacket of his leathers and taking a deep breath. "I can't speak for the rest of the group, but I think we've blown up enough of Budapest for the weekend. Speaking for myself, I am not letting Trask take out the fucking Parliament building."

Jennie sighed. "Budapest's insurance premiums must be through the roof," she said and shook her head.

---

#That was odd.# Nathan's voice in her head somehow managed to sound both dry and edgy. #I never thought I'd ever see the day when your husband told me he'd leave it up to you and I to plan strategy. Did he hit his head when he fell in the Danger Room? By the way,# Nathan went on in the most faux-conversational way possible, #Trask is planning to hit the Parliament building tonight. Lakatos just got off the phone with Callery's handler.#

#Ah,# Jean sent back, splitting her attention between Nathan's touch in her mind and finishing splinting the leg in front of her. #Well. That's fun. Can 'shoot Trask in the head' be our strategy? I mean, if Scott's letting you and I choose...#

Nathan nodded at Lakatos as the other man spread a map over the table in front of them. He examined it carefully, carrying on one conversation aloud even as he responded to Jean. Multitasking was a necessity at times like this. #If that had been an option, Red, I think we both would have gone for it a long time ago. I got the impression Scott would like us to run whatever the plan winds up being past him, if Ororo's not in any shape to consult. Suffice to say I'm for hitting them before they hit anyone else. Preemptive strikes are wonderful things.#

#And fully merited. I think I can get 'Ro awake and coherent-ish if need be, but I'd rather not wake her without at least another hour of sleep. Do you have any idea where they're staging from? Be nice if we could get them before they even set foot out the door.# Which was unlikely, but a nice dream.

#Actually, we know exactly where they are.# Nathan's jaw tightened slightly. #Callery's blown her cover completely,# he went on, pointing out a route on the map to Lakatos and making a suggestion. #Trask kept her out of the loop on this but she made it her business to find out anyway - and then showed up here in Budapest. God only knows how she found a way to get in touch with her handler, they had to be watching her. We'll be lucky if she's still alive when we get there.#

#Ah. Well. Shit.# Jean smiled down at her patient as she finished up with his leg before moving on to the next person who was waiting patiently and began asking a few questions about what had happened. #So, definitely not a lot of time if we want to get Callery out.#

#Problem being we're short on people, what with our various casualties,# Nathan sent back, frowning at a less-than-helpful comment from one of the police officers in the room with him. #'Ro's out of it. Monet and Kurt aren't in any condition for a second round either, and Jennie...# He paused, edited that thought before Jean could pick up on it. #And we can't leave the Parliament building uncovered. Who knows what the devious bitch has up her sleeve?# He paused, then decided that it had to be shared. #This was a set-up right from the get-go. You remember the telepathic state secretary you and I met when we got here? The one who actually set up the Psionic Arts Centre?#

Jean's eyes narrowed as she caught a hint of Nathan's meaning, although she quickly relaxed her face and smiled apologetically at the woman who she was stitching up. #Yes, I do. Set-up you say?#

#He created this just to watch it burn, Jean.# The stark, bleak words hung there heavily on the telepathic link.

It was a few moments before Jean could even frame a response into words, but the anger coloring her thoughts didn't really need that sort of mediation for Nate to understand. #He will pay,# she finally replied.

#They're trying to decide how to handle it. Right now I think we have other concerns. Finish up what you're doing and meet me over here? I could use a little of that unconventional thinking of yours.#

#Almost done with the most severe cases, then I'm on my way.#

---

"All right," came Nathan's crisp voice from the doorway as he stepped in and gave Lil an assessing look. It had taken a few minutes to find her; police headquarters had only gotten busier since the news had come in about the Parliament building, and Lil had done too good a job at staying unobtrusive. "You're reasonably intact," he said, more to remind her than to state the obvious, "so I need you. Unless you'd prefer to sit around for the rest of the night while the rest of us finish the job."

"You can't really want me to go," Lil said, never lifting her eyes from her hands. She sat in an old wooden chair that seemed as if it would give away completely were she to shift in the wrong way. "Already pretty damn clear that I'm more a liability for this shit than I am an asset. Went to break your face, broke Forge's arm instead 'cause that bitch got in my head... You shouldn't have to worry about friendly fire while trying to stop those bastards."

"Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?" There wasn't anything particularly harsh about Nathan's tone; it was more conversational than anything else. "That bitch gets in nearly everyone's head. The first time she did it to me I turned my shields inside out and went catatonic. I think on the whole you handled yourself better."

Lil scoffed and shook her head. "Only because she didn't have time to get me to do what she wanted," the giantess hissed. Her voice was bitter, more upset at herself than him. "I don't like people getting into my fucking head and if she's still nearby, she already knows how to get in and who's to stop her?"

"She won't get in your head," Nathan pointed out, perfectly reasonable. "Because Jean and/or I will be too busy getting in hers. And trust me, the one thing she can't handle is a stand-up fight with an honest-to-God telepath. I kicked her ass the last time she tried it with me." Of course, then she'd shot him in the back, but that wasn't something that needed sharing with Lil just now.

Finally, the giantess lifted her head; her face heavy with disappointment and anger. "Then the others! If not her, I'm sure there are others. Fuck, Nate, this whole thing is one of my worst nightmares! I can be shot and burnt and lasered and thrown off buildings but one shot to my brain and I'm done. I don't like having a fucking weakness like that and as long as I do, I'm no fucking good for this kinda shit."

She was young, inexperienced, and moderately traumatized, Nathan reminded himself. Firmly. Shaking her was neither fair nor feasible. "That's a load of bullshit," he said briskly. "Even telepaths are prey for a stronger telepath. If you're going to let the fact that people who can mess with your head exist stop you from doing the job, then what you really need to do is go home to Canada and tend bar. But don't think," he went on, more harshly, "that it's anything else but cowardice speaking, if you do. A telepath can take down even another telepath, but a non-psi can take down a telepath, too. It's about training and timing, and having back-up. And right now is not the time for this conversation, because the crazy bitch is planning to destroy the fucking seat of government of one of the most mutant-friendly nations on earth. Are you going to sit in the corner and whimper, or are you going to help us stop her?"

Every fiber of Lil's body tensed. Cowardice. She could choke on the word. "I am not a coward," the Canadian bit as she stood and squared her shoulders. "I am not a fucking coward. Knowing your weakness and not wanting it exploded in a way that can cause more problems for the team is not cowardice!"

"Lillian," Nathan said, very evenly, as he stepped forward until he was almost nose to nose with her. "Shake it off. You got sandbagged by an expert. She's not going to be doing that to you again, because we're going to hit that safehouse so hard that no one in it's going to be standing by the time we're done." He shook his head, not liking what he saw in her eyes, or what he sensed behind them. "You didn't like it? Fine. Having your mind fucked with isn't supposed to be pleasant. But if you want to do this kind of work, you need to get the fuck back on the horse when you get thrown."

Lil's fists curled at her side so tightly that she managed to draw blood while fighting the urge to swing at him. It wouldn't be good for either of them. "It's not about getting on the horse; it's about being a fucking liability." She couldn't put her team at risk; couldn't put them in a situation where she could injure another member - or worse.

"Have you really had so little experience with the real world that you don't understand that you're always going to be vulnerable to someone who can get into your mind?" Nathan asked bluntly. "That doesn't make you a liability. It's a fact."

"In this situation, it does," she spat, never breaking eye contact. "She made me come after you. She made me break Forge's arm and fucking pull all of these thoughts to the front of my brain. And if it ain't gonna be her, like you said, it's gonna be someone else so I should just go and fucking crawl back to Canada now and save everyone a lot of fucking shit to deal with later."

"You could do that," Nathan said, with a calm sort of ruthlessness. "But we need you, Lil. We've got too many people injured or otherwise incapacitated. If you opt out, we go in even more understrength than we already are - because we are going in, one way or the other. The other part of doing this work is doing what it takes, however afraid you are. The fear is a given, one way or the other."

Her jaw clenched and unclenched as the blonde woman processed his words. They needed her; needed her strength and power; the things she could provide that could hurt the terrorists back - when they weren't in possession of her mind. Fear was a powerful motivator... but fortunately for Lil, so was pride. "If I start whaling on you, it's not my fault," she said finally, her shoulders relaxing somewhat.

"Maybe," Nathan said with a slight, tight smile. "But this time I know to keep an eye on you, don't I?" It was a joke, if one that was a little blacker than the usual.

---

The helipad on the roof of National Police headquarters gave what would ordinarily have been a great view of the city, but tonight, it only succeeded in providing too good a look at the damage done earlier. The lights of emergency vehicles were clustered around the raid sites, and the building where Monet and Kurt had been was still burning, even now.

This had been a mess since she had arrived. Probably before that even. That was sort of the nature of these things though, why Clarice did what she did. Because messes needed cleaning and if not her then who and if not now then when? Of course, it'd be nice not to be needed one day. Watching the people moving around below like ants, the lights flashing...it was something she saw all too often. Sighing, she looked down and then turned around. "Okay, let's get the show on the road people!" It wasn't a good idea to think too much sometimes. Thinking was one thing. Being maudlin was another.

Some of the handful of people getting the helicopters ready, loading gear and checking over the aircraft, looked in her direction, but then went back to what they were doing. Clarice's comment did get an answer, however.

"Everyone's on their way up," Lakatos said, coming around from the other side of the helicopter where he'd been doing some checking of his own. It had been a while since he'd flown one of these. "We should be able to take off soon." He gave her a faint smile, edged with unhappiness. "We'll hope they don't actually know we're coming."

She wanted to ask how they wouldn't. Helicopters were slow, noisy and limited on what they could handle. So were airplanes and helicopters definitely had their function, but....still. Instead she kept quiet though, only nodding, "It's physics, Lakatos," she replied, "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. They have to know we're going to do something."

Lakatos sighed and adjusted his vest. Been a while since I've worn body armor, too... "It doesn't sit well with me that we didn't pick up Benedek," he said. Zoltan Benedek, state secretary for education; Zoltan Benedek, traitor. It still seemed so surreal. Bad enough that the Preservers had attracted any converts at all here in Hungary, but one at such a high level? "But him falling out of contact with them... we might as well have hired a skywriter."

"We will," she assured him. "And anyways, he can run and hide, but he can't stop a teleporter, can he?" she sighed, since when was she the one to go to for peptalks? "Look, we'll do what we can. We will stop him, one way or another. They don't show this part in the Die Hard movies, you know? Hero saves the day and everyone cheers. No one thinks about the consequences. But if you go in thinking you've lost...you will lose. You sabotage yourself. And I won't go in with you if you're going to do that. Now, do you have my six or not?"

The Hungarian mutant blinked at her for a moment, then actually cracked a smile. "Dayspring warned me about you," he said. "He told me you were... ebullient."

"Ebullient, huh? He tell you the consequence of crossing me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. It was times like these when she wished she had a sword or knife or something to look fiercer. Then again, she went to great lengths to downplay her competence sometimes. Women in the military had a tendency to go butch to be taken seriously, to act like and look like men. She did the exact opposite.

"No," came Nathan's voice from off to the left, "I didn't. Because I know you're too mannerly a leather-wearing purple hooligan to do anything to dire too one of our hosts." He reached them in a few long strides, eyeing both Clarice and Lakatos assessingly for a moment, for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with the conversation he'd just interrupted. "You two both ready?"

"That's what you think," she muttered, but smiled brightly anyways, "Who're you calling a 'hooligan' anyways?" Clarice demanded, falling into step with him. There was nearly a foot of difference in their heights but that didn't stop her. "I'm the epitome of aplomb here, Cable. Your buddy just needed a peptalk. He's severely lacking in pep. Might want to see to that."

"Do I look like the kind of man who gives pep talks?" Nathan asked dryly, stepping aside so that she could precede him into the helicopter. "My attempts at pep talks are horrible things. So you're good with getting Logan and Lil on the ground, once we hit the drop zone? I don't want the helicopter getting too close." They didn't know if there was anyone in that factory who had the ability to knock it out of the air. The chances seemed pretty good.

"Yeah sure, velocity doesn't much matter to them. They go boom and that's it." While not so great with the actual number-crunching math, Clarice had studied more than her fair share of physics thanks to her powers defying their so-called laws. "I mean, we could do it from here if I had enough data."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Closer to the factory will be fine." Nathan glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the others were indeed coming, and then pulled himself into the aircraft and past Clarice. Lakatos, coming around to get into the pilot's seat, paused, his lips twitched as he met Clarice's eyes.

"I have your six," he said, sounding perfectly serious. "At least, I do once I get the helicopter on the ground."

Clarice nodded, that was fair. "Good. You just saved yourself a lot of cleaning up," because glitter was fun, but it was a bitch to clean. Strapping herself tightly, she looked out the helicopter window at the lights of the city.

---

The nurse that had just been in to check on her had been surprisingly sympathetic, making a few comments in good, if accented English about how difficult it must be to be left behind. Pleasant though she was, she'd had to move on, of course; this floor of the hospital was full of the injured from the raids-gone-wrong, and the medical staff were busy. She had departed, if with a promise to be back in soon.

The figure that appeared in the doorway was far taller than the nurse, however, and considerably more powerfully built. "We really must stop meeting under these circumstances," a familiar deep voice rumbled softly. "It's a recurring theme we could both do without, I think."

Ororo glanced up quickly - too quickly, in fact, as it set her head throbbing and her vision quavering again. Still, she was able to resolve T'Challa's face without any trouble, her eyes widening with embarrassment at being caught on her back in a hospital bed. "That would involve avoiding activities with this eventual outcome," she said as nobly as she could, "and I think we are both too much gluttons for punishment."

"Speak for yourself. I am reformed," the king of Wakanda said gravely, coming in and sitting down in the chair beside her bed. "Really. Now, you realize, when I invited you to come and visit me in Budapest, this was not precisely what I had in mind. And you didn't call." The chiding tone was very clearly a put-on. "I was completely ignorant of the fact you were here until the city started exploding and I thought to look around for Nathan."

Ororo blamed the concussion for the fact that she immediately started to giggle, though she quickly banished the laughter, pushing herself into a more upright position. "I am going to tell him you said that," she replied solemnly.

"Please do. It took me nearly fifteen minutes to think of it while I was waiting to be cleared to see you, and I am rather proud of it." The look he was giving her was entirely serious, though, and more than a little concerned. "How are you feeling, really?"

"I am fine," Ororo said with a wave of her hand. "The worst injury I have is a bruise to my pride - that I was knocked out so early and managed to miss... well, everything. But the team handled themselves well and for that I am grateful."

T'Challa regarded her for a long moment, one eyebrow raised. "The worst injury," he commented idly. "Given that you are in fact hospitalized at this precise moment, I wonder what that says about how much you value your pride - or rather, your responsibility to your team, above your own welfare."

"Again, you really ought to be talking to Nathan about things like that. He could tell you stories. I think they are being over-cautious with me... as are you." This was accompanied with a stern look.

"A concussion and broken ribs justify being somewhat over-cautious," T'Challa said without even a hint of repentance. "I would know, having had both." He reached out and put a large hand over hers, squeezing gently. "And getting a phone call from Nathan that started with 'Hello, we're in Budapest, could you come and watch Ororo in the hospital?' was somewhat alarming, so, you will have to forgive me my concern."

Ororo didn't know whether to be touched or annoyed, she so settled for granting him a smile while vowing to have a Talk later with Nathan about his decision that she needed 'watching'. "I suppose having someone to protect me from Hungarian hospital food would not be unwelcome... though if you try to stop me from getting up when I want to I will zap you so fast you will not be able to say 'backless paper gown'."

"While yelping is hard on my dignity, I think I could endure it, to keep you in bed where you belong." He went on, perfectly straight-faced. "Should I need reinforcements, I have a number of very devoted students this term. I'm sure they would sit on you, in return for an A. Alternatively, I could call New York..." Mischief danced in his dark eyes. "Inform your Mr. LeBeau that I am sitting at your bedside."

"Blackmail is hardly becoming," Ororo huffed, lying back on her pillow, as rolling her eyes had set the headache off again. "If you are going to keep me captive here I hope you plan to entertain me. Tell me about your students. Are any of them as stubborn as you?"

T'Challa obligingly launched into a series of more-than-mildly-amusing anecdotes about his students. After a few months of traveling, he had finally taken up the offer from Central European University, although as he'd told Nathan and Ororo both over email, he didn't plan to stay for more than this single summer term.

After about five minutes, however, he paused, smiling slightly at Ororo. "Your mind is most definitely elsewhere," he said, with an understanding look. "With the rest of your team? It must be difficult to be stuck in here."

"I am sorry," Ororo said abashedly. "I was paying attention. But yes, perhaps part of me was wishing that I was not stuck here, right now. I am sure the others are handling the situation well, but... it would be good if I could be there to help too."

"You trained them well," T'Challa pointed out. "I am sure they wish you were there, as well. But it will be all right. You should look on it as a case of them merely... finishing the job, while you rest and recover."

"I suppose I have little other choice." Especially when the pain medication was finally kicking in, making it all the more difficult for her to keep her eyes open. "Please, I did not mean for you to stop. Please continue with your story."

"Very well," T'Challa said. "So, this young gentleman took great exception to his B...."

But Ororo was already asleep.

---