xp_logs | Fiddler's Green: Omega

On the flight to California, Nathan catches up with Forge after the events of the week. Arriving at their destination, he's startled to find Carly Alvarez working with SHIELD, but it turns out she's not the only ex-colleague of his interested in the last legacy of Taygetos.

"They're starting to scare me," Nathan mumbled as he sank into the copilot's seat beside Forge. "The redheads," he explained. "I think they're plotting something." At least Moira had stopped mentally enumerating all the sneaky ways she could knock him out and leave him on the Blackbird while she and Jean did their consulting. She'd been doing that just to rattle him, he knew it. And it had worked. "Are we there yet? I'm starting to worry about being in an enclosed space with the two of them." Either of them could opt at a moment's notice to go for the hardcore approach and whip out a tranq gun. Redheads were like that.

Forge glanced up at one of the chronometers. "We've been in the air for about forty minutes," he announced, "so at our cruising speed, we're passing over South Dakota now as you can tell by the lovely utter lack of scenery. If Kyle was here, we could totally buzz his parents' place for shits and giggles. We've got about an hour left. See, this is why I say you just can't trust redheads. They conspire, you know."

"Mmm." Nathan fiddled with the sling Jean had insisted that he wear. His head ached - well, everything ached, but the lack of energy was worse. Moira was never going to let to live it down if he walked off the plane at their destination and fell flat on his face. Amelia had flatly refused to give him anything more than extra painkillers. "I suppose you'd rat me out if I snuck a couple of the go-pills from the emergency kit."

"You bet I would," Forge immediately responded, reaching across to one of the displays and checking the Blackbird's stealth system diagnostics. Their flight plan took them within a hundred miles of two NOAA weather installations, and an unmarked jet traveling at two and a half times the speed of sound would possibly raise questions. If it was detected, of course.

"I have more fear of the doctors than I have sympathy for your broken and busted frame, old-timer," he added with a grin. "For they are crafty and know where the stethoscopes are frozen."

"You can tell you're a long-term mansion resident. You've learned the wisdom to fear them." Nathan stared out the window for a long moment, the look in his eyes gone distant. "Heard you bluffed your way into capturing a bunch of the bastards in Wyoming," he finally said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Scott might have been bragging about your tactics, when he came to see me."

Forge gave a half-hearted shrug, but he practically bristled with pride at the admission from the veteran. "Just did what came naturally. I wasn't about to sit by and play taxi driver while those sons of bitches got away clean. I mean, I could have chased down anything they'd try and escape in, but that would have left the team in the lurch. So I improvised."

"Amazing how all those whacky Danger Room scenarios encourage unconventional thinking to become second nature, isn't it?" Nathan murmured. "Something for the trainees to keep in mind when they kvetch about them..."

"You realize that any time I have to actually engage a hostile target, it's by definition unconventional, right?" Forge asked rhetorically. "Nine out of ten times out, I'm support personnel, I know this. It's that ten percent where, well, things go totally FUBAR and it's improvisational theater time."

"Don't talk to me about FUBAR. Or improvisational theater. It's been a hell of a week." Nathan rubbed at his eyes with his good hand. "I've decided I'm not allowed to have plans anymore. Even if this was partially Jean's fault." He tilted his head slightly, as if listening. "She heard that. I'm probably going to die now."

"Yeah, 'Nate Dies' isn't exactly improv anymore," Forge replied in a deadpan tone. "We officially call that 'Plan B'."

Nathan snorted, then winced, his hand going to his side. "I really should have stayed in bed," he muttered. "But I wanted to see this." Kids that Taygeto would never get the chance to finish warping. He'd decided to look at it that way, in a rush of probably drug-induced optimism. "How often do we get a reward for taking crazy risks and coming home all beat to shit, huh?"

Forge thought about mentioning the fact that coming back from a mission usually meant some extended "recuperation" time with Crystal, but given that Nathan spent most of his time separated from his wife by an entire ocean, rubbing that fact would be possibly hazardous to his health, even with said wife in the plane.

"The work's supposed to be its own reward, right?" Forge said instead, "We do what we do because it needs doing. Better us coming back banged up than someone less qualified coming back worse off."

"I've been doing what I do for a very long time," Nathan said, staring out the window again. He couldn't argue with Forge's point, yet it also made him feel very... old. Old and worn out, and he didn't really think it was just the events of the week talking. Was this what burnout felt like? "Thirty years. Sometimes it's only the moments like this that keep you going."

---

The Taygetos facility was something of a surprise. It turned out to be a sprawling cliffside house on the coast of Northern California, white-walled with a massive wrap-around balcony like something out of 'Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous'. It was perched atop a particularly impressive bluff, with a very steep path leading down towards docks in the cove below and only one narrow road leading onto the property. They'd had to leave Forge and the Blackbird on the perimeter of the property with the SHIELD helicopters, but there'd been two SHIELD officers in a Jeep there to meet them and take them in the rest of the way.

The SHIELD team's command post was set up outside. It was because it had taken some time to take all the members of the Taygetos security team and the facility's staff into custody, one of their escorts had explained. That they arrived on the scene just in time to see the last two security guards taken away - on stretchers, attended by medics - hammered the point home, and Nathan eyed the house, wondering if the place really was secure. It bothered him to have Moira here, either way.

The sight of the slender, dark-haired woman standing with the SHIELD officers provided a very speedy distraction. Nathan's jaw dropped and he stared, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Jean would have said if they'd mentioned this... Carly Alvarez met his glance for a moment, then turned her attention, almost politely, back to the team leader's briefing.

"-so we've got all the hostiles accounted for, according to one of our prisoners, the man who claimed to be the head of the facility," he said crisply, then inclined his head to Carly. "Ms. Alvarez was kind enough to do some telepathic scouting for us. The actual creche itself is behind a set of security doors that went into automatic lockdown at our intrusion. I've got people in there right now, getting them open and making sure there aren't any unexpected surprises."

"Do ye have any idea of what the potential set up for the creche might be?" Moira asked once the team leader had finished speaking, studiously ignoring her husband and whatever worry might have been leaking telepathically. "What might we expect once we get in there?"

"According to our 'source', half a dozen kids, all of whom were undergoing some sort of gene therapy." The lean, graying man frowned, an obvious glint of concern in his eyes. "I told my people inside to get in as fast as possible, but the last thing we want to do is trip any sort of last-ditch security measure. The interior of the house has been heavily modified."

Well, at least we know from heavily modified medical facilities, Jean thought, but she refrained from saying it aloud. Instead she nodded at the man. "I'm glad you all are taking extra care getting in there; I'm getting really tired of these people's idea of a fun surprise."

"We're going to ensure the place is fully secure before we take you in there," he assured them both. "Director Fury laid down the law on that. Doctor MacTaggart, our own medic recorded some of the details of what their boss said about their genetic work. It's not much, but if you and Doctor Grey wanted to review that while you're waiting?"

"Aye, we'd like ta see it. Also, I'd like ta see what kind o' equipment ye've got for us. We brought a few things o' our own but obviously couldnae bring as much as we needed." Moira nodded towards the bags she and Jean had brought from the Blackbird. "I think Nate will probably want ta see what's on that video as well."

There was that and the fact that Moira knew he wasn't going to be leaving her side any time soon, so her words were a bit wry.

Nathan made a face at her, but predictably stuck very close to her side as the medic set up the recording. He made it through the run-through of the recording and part of the subsequent conversation, but eventually, the back and forth between Moira, Jean, and the medic became somewhat lost on him; he might have married a geneticist, but that didn't mean he had any more than a layman's knowledge. Until they were finished and actually ready to start assessing their patients, he should probably just stay out of their way. Aware of Moira's eyes following him, he moved slowly out of the zone of conversation and towards the woman standing on the fringes of the group, watching all of them.

"I see someone kept my promise for me," he said in a low voice, offering Carly a faint, tired smile.

"Fury's people," she said, her expression and tone neutral, her shields flawless and giving away nothing from the inside. "From bit and bridle to a cage to sing in."

Nathan took a deep breath - then wished he hadn't as pain jolted through his chest, accompanied by a lovely wave of sick dizziness that had probably come along for the ride just to be spiteful. Now is not a good time to fall over, Dayspring. "My fault, maybe," he said, his voice low and a little hoarse. "I yammered about the possibility at Xavier. He might have made a few phone calls."

She regarded Nathan coolly for a moment before offering him the faintest hint of a smile. "There is symmetry to the whole thing. I was made useful to Trask. Now Trask makes me useful to another." No more "Tara" and, it seemed, no more conflict about her feelings for the woman.

His brain, which was still working fairly sluggishly, made a few key connections. "You were involved in finding this place," he said. It wasn't a question. Nathan nodded slowly, eyes straying back to the rest of the group. Nice to know he'd been right about what she could offer in terms of intelligence, although there was probably quite a story behind this. Carly did not, however, volunteer any additional details.

"... how are you doing?" he asked finally, not entirely sure he should be broaching the subject, all things considered.

The ghost of the smile vanished on the heels of a one-shouldered shrug. "Another group of people are attempting to rebuild me from the ground up. Only the intentions differ, but that counts for something." She paused a moment. "Thank you for that."

"There are far less understanding places you could have wound up in custody," Nathan said, wishing he had a wall to lean on. God, he hurt. Why had he thought this was a good idea again? His gaze lit on Moira. Oh, right. "Hard to believe this is all over," he muttered. Carly didn't have anything to say to that, either, but he could sense her watching him.

---

It took another half-hour for the SHIELD team to fully secure the premises and get the security doors open. At that point, everything started to move much more quickly. Jean and Moira were ushered inside, Nathan trailing after them, stubbornly trying to keep pace. Carly accompanied them, staying well out of the way but taking in everything with that keen, cool, assessing gaze.

The creche was... a lot of stark white and bare walls, and cribs that looked more like cages. There was a lot of medical equipment, Nathan thought, frozen in the doorway as Jean and Moira and the SHIELD medic went to work. Why did... six little babies require that much medical equipment?

Moira didn't pause, just made sure the surgical mask was secure on her face. Jean probably could tell the sight was upsetting to her by her body language and Nate knew the second it slammed shut on her end of the bond but she was all scientist to the others. "Keep yer surgical masks and gloves on," she announced. "These children 'ave been kept in a clean room and we need ta take as many precautions as we can."

Jean's tenseness was no more apparent than Moira's, but also no less to those who knew her. "The computer files are all intact, that'll help," she said, eyeing the machines before abandoning them to move in between the first two bed/monitor units. "I'm going to start with a full physical - it'll help me get a deep scan of their minds.." The professional, analytical tone was absolutely necessary, the rigid control the only way she could avoid going to find anyone even tangentially related to Tagytos and destroying them.

Moira counted half a dozen babies, all averaging between six and eight months in age. She paused over one and froze as it just sort of ... looked at her. The baby was aware, acutely so, but didn't make one hint of noise. Moira glanced around the room. In fact, none of them were. Maybe a little involuntary noise here or there but with this much activity and strange people around, at least one of them should have been crying.

"What have they done to ye?" she said out loud, shaking her head as she drew some equipment closer to her and the baby in front of her. "What's their mindscape like, Jean? These are far too quiet on the outside for my likin'."

Jean had set her hands along one of the babies' arms, thumbs stroking slightly along soft skin as she slipped into a mind which was far too alert for it's age, and it was easy to see the paths that other telepaths had laid down, solidly placed but not very deep. "They'd definitely started, but it's not... it's not as bad as it could be," she said after a moment, stepping back with a slight shudder. "What they've managed... it's more accelerating their mental growth. No deep conditioning."

"That's nay all they've been doin'," Moira responded, staring at the readings on the machine she was using on the baby next to her. "Somethin' else is showin' up. Give me a minute, I might have more o' an idea on this."

While Jean was running some of her own, Moira continued to manipulate her machines. The expression on her face only hardened as she watched it intently. It took about twenty minutes before she turned back to the others, fists lightly clenched. "These are only preliminary reports, mind ye, but accordin' to the tests I was runnin' while ye were mentally checkin' that one out ..." She shook her head and continued. "They've been doin' some other experiments on them, genetically speakin'. Not therapy. Verra risky and what's been done could 'ave long term 'ealth effects. I'll know more wit' more in-depth testing."

Behind his surgical mask, Nathan swallowed on a surge of nausea. "Genetic alterations in vivo?" he said hoarsely; he might not be an expert, but he had picked up some of the terminology, after all these years. "That's... new. We knew they were doing it in vitro..."

Jean had moved to stand by the oldest of the infants, possibly as much as a month older than the little girl she'd seen first, hands running through a quick physical even as her mind dipped in to examine the little boy's. The tampering was more extensive, they'd had longer to work on him, but it still lacked the malicious conditioning of the adolescent operatives. Still, Jean wasn't sure that even Charles would be able to fully undo what had been done to these children - their minds were too pliable, the patterns set too deeply into still-forming minds. "God only knows what their next step would have been," she said, looking up at Moira and Nathan. "Thank God we weren't any later..."

Moira came to stand by Jean and looked down at the little boy - blue eyes stared back up at her. He wasn't curious or reacting to her. He knew she was there but beyond that, nothing. "They could have made the perfect soldiers," she said quietly, risking a glance over her shoulder at Nathan. Above the surgical mask, her own eyes were huge. "We'll see what Charles can do for them, see what we can do at Muir. 'Tis good that we got 'ere when we did, we can start ta 'opefully undo this."

Hopefully.

One of the SHIELD officers at the door reacted to something in his earpiece, frowning. "We may have a problem," he said. "There's a helicopter incoming along the coast. Not one of ours."

Nathan straightened, exchanging a look with Moira and Jean. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears suddenly, too fast and erratic. This was exactly what he'd been afraid might happen. "Just because this place is secured doesn't mean it's going to stay secured," he whispered harshly, his mind already stretching out, trying to locate the incoming helicopter and who might be aboard it. He spared some energy to reach out to Forge as well - then halted as he sensed Jean taking care of that end of things.

Back to the helicopter, then. It was hard to miss in this near-wilderness. And there were a large number of minds aboard, minds that had the familiar flavor of competent soldiers. But whose? Not Taygetos, and he trusted SHIELD to be able to keep the American military at a distance while they did their work. It took him too long a moment to sift through the minds of the men in the helicopter to find their commander, given that they were so close together and focused on the same goal, and he was....

"Oh God," Nathan barely breathed, aghast. "It's John. It's Lense."

The SHIELD team leader proved he'd been fully briefed on the events of the last year by paling slightly and immediately giving orders to two of his men outside in the hall. They dashed off, and the man turned back, expression tight. "Are you sure, Dayspring?"

"Positive."

It was not a particularly unreasonable desire to pluck the little boy in front of her into her arms and keep him safe, Jean figured, but it was probably one best squashed - certainly the SHIELD officers would be unlikely to take it well. Instead she moved a few steps forward, standing between the children and the door. "To hell with that. If he so much as thinks about hurting these children I will kill him," she said. "Messily."

"Right, off ye both go," Moira told Jean as she hurried over to Nathan. "I'm safest 'ere while th' ones with the fire power go out there. In fact..." She paused in front of him and turned toward the SHIELD officers. "I'll need a few folks that ye can spare. If they sent one group, they may send another an' we need to get these wee bairns evacuated while we still can. An' tell them ta hurry."

"I can spare you two, maybe three people on top of Peters," the team leader said, inclining his head at his medic. "The rest of us can cover the evac."

"Jean..." Nathan met his teammate's eyes, deliberately not looking at his wife. He knew perfectly well that her brisk tone was a cover, and that she was Not Happy at the idea of him involved in any kind of fighting today. Which meant she was going to hate the hell out of what he was about to say. "Can you help cover the evac while Carly and I delay John?"

It made sense. There were a whole shitload of people with John, and even though they felt like garden variety men-with-guns, that meant that the telekinetic in the best shape needed to be here, covering the children and Moira. He suspected Jean had sensed as quickly as he had that the odds were not in their favor.

Before Jean could respond, a hand grabbed his collar and yanked him down to Moira's level. "Are ye insane?" his wife hissed, eyes narrowing. "Ye're not in any condition ta go against Lense, with or without backup."

"Maybe. But I want someone protecting you and these kids who's at the top of their game. And we're both in agreement that I don't qualify," he hissed back. But he couldn't keep the fear out of his eyes as he met hers. Or the exhaustion. He didn't want to do this. He really didn't. "I think it makes the most sense. John can't shield worth shit, unless he's wearing one of Shaw's toys. Which I can probably get off him if need be."

Ignoring the way Moira was looking at him and the unspoken objection screaming up the link, Nathan straightened, meeting Carly's steady, speculative gaze. "If I distract him, can you put him down telepathically?" #We can't let him take these kids. We can't.# He didn't know whether he was responding to Moira, or to Carly, or both.

Alvarez's gaze was sparks and steel. "They won't," she said simply. "You do your part and I'll see to it that he stays down."

Jean's attention flickered back and forth between the babies and Nathan, scowling intensely. "Fine," she said curtly. "You're right, they need the protection more. But you keep in mind this jackass can barely walk straight," she added, fixing Carly with a glare. "Things start to go bad, you tell me and I'll come."

One of Carly's eyebrows went up. But Nathan was already turning for the door, pulling off the surgical mask. "Tell Forge what's going on, get him to warm up the jet." #And tell him to get out of here as soon as the babies and Moira are aboard.#

Surely he could get Lense to focus on him. He might not be up for a fight, but if he couldn't get John to rant and rave at him for long enough to let Carly sneak up on him, he was losing his touch. Nathan hesitated, looking back at Moira.

#Be careful,# he sent, his mental voice almost a whisper. It went without saying that the two of them should never have been in the field together, not both at once, and that it was his fault that they were. But he couldn't be entirely sorry. He'd been right to come. There was no way he'd ever have forgiven himself if she'd wound up in this situation without him.

Moira followed them as far as the door before she called out. "Ms. Alvarez, I expect my 'usband ta be returned in one piece!"

#Or we'll 'ave words, nay matter yer condition.#