xp_logs | Nathan and Remy, early Friday evening

Sometime just after dinner, Nathan heads down to the boathouse to find Remy, as arranged in these emails. He has a request that Remy's not all that thrilled to hear, but agrees to anyway. (OOC: Set a number of hours before this post.)

Nathan was not too terribly surprised to find LeBeau on the dock. He'd heard that it was a favored spot, from a number of people at this point, and catalogued that little piece of information away along with all of the other gossip.

"So," he said more casually than he really felt as he approached the end of the dock. "Europe sounds like it was entertaining."

"De usual. Snipers, betrayal, and German cooking." Remy said, not turning around as he took a long drag on his cigarette. "Turns out dat if Magneto is operating in Europe, he's taking a lot of time to hide his tracks."

"Are you too terribly surprised?" Nathan shook his head as he reached the end of the dock. "Charles had me get in touch with some of my contacts in Eastern Europe. They didn't have anything illuminating to tell me, either. Scott's obviously got one hell of a source, but I'm gathering there's something there that warrants extreme caution because there's absolutely nothing in any of the files I have access to."

"Well, de fact he's spending de effort tells us something at least. Got a few people trying to hunt down clues at the fringes. Dere's something over dere dat has him interested." Remy shrugged. "And de rest of de rogues gallery is pretty active. Going to be a banner year for mercs and assassins, it seems."

"Pity about this whole retirement thing," Nathan murmured, staring out at the lake. "Not that I ever looked on the money as more than a way of keeping score, anyway..." He took a deep breath and looked sideways at Remy. "That favor I mentioned. How much do you know about Mistra?"

"Mistra? Rumours, mostly. Dey had de common sense not to get in de Agency's way too much, so ops didn't build much of a profile on dem." Remy said, finally turning from the rail. "Dey like Black Air or something, oui? Deep black covert ops, terrorism for hire, dat sort of work."

"Rumors enough to know that's the program I came out of?" Nathan shrugged uneasily. "I wasn't sure how much Pete had or hadn't briefed you on that. Mistra's one of his big worries right now. They use a fairly sophisticated form of psionic conditioning on their operatives. Back in August they took me back and fixed what went wrong seven years ago, and sent me back to kill Charles."

"Psionic triggers seem to be coming back in a big way." Remy observed sourly. "Why go after Xavier? Dis a contract or something personal wit' de group?"

"He tipped the President off to their existence, back in April. On my behalf, actually..." Nathan looked back out at the lake. "When I got here I was dying. Literally. My precognition started stopping my heart on a regular basis. Charles, I think, was trying to buy me a little space to either get better or die in peace. But he pissed them off seriously." Nathan folded his arms across his chest. "Long story short, I had some very questionable help back in August which was supposed to result in my conditioning being gone permanently. Turns out my benefactors left something behind."

"Best way to do it." Remy nodded. "So, we got a top-level group of mercenaries with a mad-on for Charles and de school. Like we're collecting dem or something. So, what's Mistra's next step, Nate?"

"This is what's going to break your brain," Nathan said with a very bitter smile. "The ones yanking my strings currently? Are the people who claim they're trying to take Mistra down." He shook his head, looking back out at the lake. "I'll tell Pete to let you see his files on Mistra. They're comprehensive - I helped write them, and given that I was Mistra's field commander I had access to a lot."

He fell silent. "But as for that favor," he said after a long moment. "I don't know what else might be in my head. Charles can't go digging without sending me into a catatonic state. He's confident he's got an early-warning system set up so that if anything happens he'll be able to telepathically smack me down before I do any damage. But I'm not willing to entirely trust that."

"You think dat dere's some conditioning still left in your head, homme? Figure dat if dey going to activate you, dere's still a trigger?" Remy said, a slightly dubious look in his eyes. If they had the capability, it didn't make sense for them not to have used it again by now. Mind you, stranger things had happened in the shadowy world of intelligence.

"I don't know," Nathan said, not quite able to hide his agitation this time. "That's the problem. At least before August, I knew the conditioning was still there, that it was just a question of the old obedience protocols having broken... I can't even figure out why this anti-Mistra group would have been trying to use me as the proverbial Trojan Horse back in August and yet leave something of their own behind in my head. And I'm half-afraid to get back in touch with the old rat bastard just in case he tries to pull something."

He took a minute to slow his breathing down. "I would have killed Charles in August, but Pete put himself between me and the target. And I proceeded to nearly kill him, mostly because he went in trying to disable me, not kill me. At least at first."

"Why do I have a feeling dat I know where dis conversation is headed." Remy said, putting his hands on the railing and leaning back against it.

Nathan laughed a bit raggedly. "Well, feel free to tell me to fuck off if you're so inclined. But I'm in a bit of a bind here, LeBeau. Too many damned emotional ties. Even with Pete. I was throwing cars at him back in August, and he told me he'd been thinking what he'd tell Moira or Domino or Amanda if he wound up killing me. I've gone to him with this already, but... I'm asking you, too." He turned to face the other man finally. "I'm not asking you for a promise, or anything stupid and melodramatic like that. Just, maybe... to hop in the Danger Room with me a few times. Get a better look at how I fight now, because it's changed since the last time we crossed paths." He sighed. "Just in case."

"You do realise dat if it comes to dat, homme, dere's not going to be a second chance." Remy said softly, and Nathan knew that he was speaking directly from where Gambit had come from. "You ask dis, and if it happens, Remy put you in the ground. No heroics, no challenges, no drama." He paused. "No second chances dis time." The last line could have been for Nathan or for himself.

"Why do you think I'm talking to you?" Nathan gave him that bitter, twisted smile again. "I'm selfish, Remy. I love this place, these kids... enough that I don't want to leave. If it ever turns out that my selfishness winds up putting them at risk from me... in the ground sounds very just, to me."

"And de others?" Remy said, crossing his arms across his chest. "Dey see things de same way? I'll do it, Nate. I understand de dangers. But if you let it come to dat, it'll rip dis place wide open." He chuckled grimly. "At de very least, Remy need to find a new place to live. So saying dat you want me to put you down is fine, but it's not de whole issue, homme. Hope de Professor and dat future wife of yours know de risks too."

"Charles and Pete both know I was going to ask you this. Moira..." Nathan paused. "I will tell her," he said, more quietly. "Once I figure out how. But don't misunderstand me here... this is a remote possibility. I'm covering all my bases. The trigger that Charles removed last week was one that meant to make me more pliable when the leader of this anti-Mistra group was talking to me. Given that the old rat bastard has been sending me running around breaking kids out of conditioning facilities and rescuing my old friends, this is not as ominous as it could be."

"Homme, dat's not a bad start for leading you down another path." Remy shrugged. "Look, I'm de paranoid one, so my read is not as sanguine as yours. Oui. Oui, we can train on your powers and see where de vulnerabilities are. And if you get reactivated, Remy is willing to make sure dat any 'you or us' situations end up being you."

"Another path," Nathan muttered. "One way to put it... damn MacInnis anyway." He looked back at Remy. "I'm going to do my best to make sure it doesn't come to this. Believe me. Worst-case scenario, like I said."

"Good. Remy given enough reasons for people to dislike me. I'm sure killing you would reduce de Christmas card list to feeble levels." Remy said, uncharacteristically serious. "So, what about dis anti-Mistra group who is yanking your chain. You got a plan for dem?"

"As of right this second? Beyond being really fucking careful the next time any of them try and contact me, no." Nathan sighed. "I don't know enough about what they're doing," he confessed. "I've never had the chance to find out. Three times I've been in contact with them this past year, and the first two times I was drugged out of my head."

"Dat's gotta change, homme. Either dey using you or you using dem. No middle ground." Remy pointed out. "Between you and Wisdom, it shouldn't be hard to start putting some pieces together.

"Pete's chasing some leads. He's found out a little." Nathan shook his head. "They'll get back into contact," he said, sure of it. "Not a matter of if. Just when."

"Den you need to be ready to turn it around on dem at dat time, Nate. You let de other person set de rules, and you'll always be playing dere game." Remy mentioned.

"I don't know what game we're playing yet, that's the problem. And I sure as hell don't know why I wound up the other player." He managed a wry smile. "So," he said. "Shall I just drop in on you some night when you're in the Danger Room?"

"Knock first. Wouldn't want to make you a target too soon." Remy said as he nodded.

Nathan started to turn away, then paused. "'Thank you' is not precisely what's called for at the end of a conversation like this, I suppose," he said. "But still. Thanks."

"Remy almost afraid to hear what you ask de rest of dem for Christmas..." He said, turning and stepping into the house ahead of the coming chill.