xp_logs | Fiddler's Green: The Plan (Reply)

A team of X-Men on flight maneuvers is directed to the city at the emergency signal from Nathan's phone, but they arrive too late. Some inconsistencies with the situation trouble Haller. Little does he know that it's only the tip of the iceberg.

It wasn't the first time a team doing flight maneuvers had been suddenly redirected to New York. Ironically, the last time had involved Mariana Machado as well, although without Ororo aboard to create some handy cloud cover, they hadn't been able to take the plane right into the heart of the city. Fortunately, it was also not the first time the X-Men had been forced to improvise.

Still, despite the quick reactions and creative thinking that had gotten them to Nathan's coordinates inside of twenty minutes, the fact remained that they had been too late. There had been no sign of their teammate or his assailants. They'd managed to find Machado, guided to her by Charles, but that was it. Further investigation had been hampered by the arrival of the authorities, leaving a return to the mansion as the only feasible option.

Jean had taken Machado and headed off to see Charles as soon as they'd touched down in the hangar. The rest of the team who'd been in the Blackbird with her were left to do the necessary post-flight tasks. As they finished things up and dispersed, Tabitha found herself walking out of the hangar with Haller.

Tabs shouldered a bag of equipment. "That was rather anti-climatic," she commented. "I always expect more explosions."

"There was already a kidnapping. Additional explosions weren't necessary." Jim's response was a little shorter than normal; after what had happened to Jean-Paul his sense of humor wasn't in the best shape. He unzipped his jacket with slightly more force than was strictly necessary. "Jesus Christ, Nathan, why the hell hasn't Moira tagged you yet?"

"Maybe we should bribe Forge into making that his next project. AVID for humans," Tabitha said, only half joking. "Inject the chip into the leg instead of the neck though, I hear the GPS thingie can give you brain tumors."

Jim just looked at her, considering an unpleasant remark, then reminded himself that Tabitha hadn't yet had any dealings with Trask and the Taygetos mess. There was really no way for her to know just how potentially bad this was. Moreover, different people dealt with crisis in different ways. Humor seemed to be hers, no matter how inappropriate he felt it was. So get the stick out of your ass.

The telepath sighed and forced his stress to reroute from Tabitha. She wasn't the cause, just a convenient target. Instead, he turned his mind back to Machado. "It's weird, though," he remarked, his tone a little closer to normal now. "I know Jean confirmed what the woman said, but it didn't seem . . . right. The signals were weird."

The blond woman tilted her head in curiosity. "Are we talking mind woobies, or psychologist woobies?" she asked. "I can't say I noticed anything, but I'm neither a telepath, nor a trained psychologist, or even very good with people."

Jim shook his head. "Psychologist woobies. I trust Jean, honestly more than I'd trust me when it comes to sensitivity, but Machado's body language was off. She was distressed, fidgeting. That's not weird, considering what happened, but it didn't match her delivery. It's hard to explain, but what she said and how she said it seemed . . . too coherent, for someone under that kind of stress."

Tabs could only blink. "So you're saying you think something's wrong because she handled the situation too well?" She failed to wrap her mind around that logic.

"No. I mean given how well she's not handling the situation, it's weird that she's . . . oh, never mind." Jim ran a hand through is hair in frustration. "Jean's satisfied, and they're going to see the professor. I'm overthinking it." He slung his jacket over his shoulder and headed towards the locker room. "I'll see you later. If anyone asks, I'm going to be down at the quarry crushing rocks with my brain."

===

Machado had been silent on the way down to the Cerebro room, eyes flickering fearfully to Jean every so often. She knew the red-haired telepath was aware that she wasn't telling the truth about having no knowledge of the ambush. What she couldn't figure out was why she hadn't been called on it. Blamed for it, as she should have been. But she fancied herself that she read people well, and she hadn't seen anything but honest reassurance from Jean.

It made no sense. She jumped as the door slid open in front of them -then stared, wide-eyed at the enormous, round metal room revealed beyond. There was a narrow catwalk leading out to the center of the room, and as Jean gestured her forward, she recognized Scott Summers and Ororo Munroe, standing beside Charles Xavier.

The door closed behind them - and as Xavier met her eyes, smiling gently, the walls in her mind did not so much fall as dissolve gently, leaving behind the truth. Machado gasped aloud, one hand going to her midsection as if to steady herself. The relief was overwhelming.

"Gracas a Deus," she managed in a trembling voice. "I thought I had done something terrible. The false memories were so very real."

"Our apologies for that," Jean said, reaching out and gently releasing the blocks in Scott's and Ororo's minds as well. "At this point we can't be too careful about Trask or Alpha. They've simply been too unpredictable."

Scott, who'd been frowning at Machado's comment, froze for a moment, blinking. Then, almost involuntarily, he looked to Ororo. "So that's why Jean was doing flight manuevers! I couldn't figure it out. I thought it must have been your idea."

"No, it was very clearly your idea," Ororo said in the tone of someone who still couldn't quite believe what had been revealed. "As it didn't make any sense..."

"I thought perhaps I should have made it my idea," Charles said, not quite dryly. There was a tension around his eyes, something closer to a strained look than most inhabitants of the mansion ever saw from the Professor. "Only that would not have made any sense whatsoever. We are all back on the same page, then?"

Scott rubbed at his eye, then nodded. "They fell for it, then," he said, more to Charles than to Machado. "Took the bait." The memories were growing steadily clearer. "Do we know for sure?" It was a redundant question; there was no reason for Taygetos to have taken Nathan otherwise. If they'd decided not to exploit the information Machado had allowed them to 'extort' from her, they could have left Nathan dead in the street outside the restaurant.

The Professor nodded. "I scanned them as they approached the restaurant, to make sure. I had to be cautious - there was another telepath with them, watching from a distance, and triggering any of the anti-intrusion mechanisms in their conditioning would have been disastrous. But I was able to discern that their orders were definitely to capture Nathan, not to kill him."

"You were going to warn us, if not," Machado said slowly, as if reviewing the memory. "I recall this. So that we could run."

"Yes. I'm glad it wasn't necessary; I'm not positive the two of you could have evaded them for long enough for the team to arrive. Although I would have done what I could to help, of course." Charles took a deep breath. "The plan is risky enough, even with things unfolding as we hoped they would."

"Because of Trask." The name, when Ororo said it, was laced with not a little iciness. "With her working with Taygetos, it is all the more necessary that our minds are blocked from interference. If she were able to discern our plan it would be less than useless - and Nathan would be in even more danger."

Scott grimaced. Damn the bitch, anyway... Jean and Charles were the only ones whose minds were absolutely barred to her. Him, Ororo, Machado - they were all vulnerable to an astral traveller like Trask. And Nathan had been the first to point out that he needed to have no memory whatsoever of the plan, because the moment a Taygetos telepath picked that out of his head, 'Alpha' was liable to put a bullet in it.

"Right," Scott said, then shook his head again. Mental note to self - avoid need for memory blocks in future. This feels so weird. His mind was still filling in a few of the holes. He looked back at Charles, trying to focus on the here-and-now. "First things first. Are you tracking Nathan?"

"Not yet." Charles's expression tightened. "I lost him when he was knocked unconscious. The fight caused a great deal of chaos in the local psychic atmosphere, and it was enough to mask his psi-imprint. Wherever he is now, they may be inhibiting his powers, or the telepath may be masking all of them."

"I'm thinking they're probably inhibiting him," Jean put in. "They've done it before, and it's definitely something to keep in mind when we do find him for the retrieval. It's going to be a little bit awkward to prep a team for a different mission than what we're actually going on, but it's still not safe for any non-telepath to know what's really going on."

"We knew that was a possibility," Charles said. "I will find him. It will simply take me longer than I had hoped." It didn't need to be said that he had hoped not to lose Nathan in the first place. "We have some time. There is no real chance that they could acquire the information they need from him quickly, even if they have inhibited his powers. The Trojan Horse is deeply buried in his subconscious."

"So we'll hope they don't lose patience." Scott was frowning. "Apart from the false briefing, putting together a general-purpose team for the retrieval shouldn't be a problem. I can't see any reason why we wouldn't want to cover all our bases, even once we don't remember this conversation." His last comment was clearly addressed to Ororo.

"Putting together a team for a mission we don't fully understand. I do not see why that is any different than normal," Ororo said, somewhat sarcastically, though it was clear this stemmed from her worry about finding Nathan and retrieving him safely more than anything else.

Scott just raised an eyebrow at her, the corner of his mouth twitching briefly. "We need to get forgetful again and leave you to it," he said to Charles, who nodded, his attention turning briefly to Machado.

"Mariana, I've arranged for you to spend the interim elsewhere," he said quietly. "Someplace safe, of course, but removing you from the need to answer additional questions would be best." Machado nodded, and Charles continued, his voice still soft but increasingly firm. "Scott, Ororo - you will both do as your training and experience dictates. It should be enough. Jean and I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that everyone reaches the proper place at the proper time. And then, hopefully, we will see history repeat itself for the last time."