xp_logs | Nathan and Madelyn, Monday late afternoon

At the end of her briefing on how the government's ongoing investigation of Mistra is incorporating the information passed along by MacInnis, Madelyn looks down to see a very sullen Nathan. She prods as to the reason behind the glowering, and Nathan gives her an earful about just how he feels on the subject of the government investigating Mistra. He goes a little too far, but also realizes that he does. Madelyn shares some of her feelings on the subject of Mistra, and the two of them find some understanding in the end.

He didn't know why he had a pen. He hadn't taken any notes. But it made a good distraction, and Nathan continued to tap it restlessly on the table of the briefing room, even as the meeting broke up and the others who'd been listening to Madelyn tell them about the government's anti-Mistra taskforce went on their way. They were so obviously giving him some space that it was kind of irritating.

For her part, Madelyn was focussing more on what she needed to do next as she collected the various bits of paper she'd been using to give her report. Information was key here, sharing and exchanging it, so they had the most coverage and didn't go stepping on each other's toes... Eventually the pen tapping broke into her thoughts, and she looked up, giving Nathan a quizzical look. "Something else you wanted from me, Nathan?" she asked. "Did I miss something?"

Nathan blinked, giving her a blank look. He hadn't even realized she was still in the room. Shields must be getting better... "No," he said, much more curtly than he should have. "Got lost in thought for a minute there." He rose, reaching out for his coffee. Which had gone lukewarm, damn it, and he frowned at it, concentrating until steam started to rise from the mug again.

Madelyn blinked at the tone. Okay, something was up his ass, and considering he had been getting like this after her last couple of briefings on this subject and not really any other time, she was getting a good idea it was connected to her... Sliding the assorted memos and notes in their file, she lay it aside and leaned forward, hands loosely clasped in front of her on the table. "So, do I actually get to hear what the problem is, or do I have to play Twnety Questions?" she asked briskly, vaguely irritated.

Oh, so we're pushing, are we? Nathan toyed with the idea of sitting back down, but then decided against it. Looming was bad, yes, but making her think that they were going to have an extended conversation about this wasn't good either.

"It was a good briefing," he said, delaying the inevitable for at least another ten seconds or so.

"And yet I'm getting the feeling there's a problem. Why would that be?" Refusing to be intimidated by the Loom, Madelyn looked blandly up at him. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were unhappy with what the taskforce is managing to do with the information they've been given. Information you passed onto me to pass onto them."

"I'm not unhappy with what they're doing - " Okay, so that was cutting it a little fine. " - just a little uncertain about how they're doing it," Nathan said irritably. "Just because they had all kinds of new intelligence dumped in their laps doesn't mean they need to get carried away."

"'Carried away'? How, exactly?" Madelyn looked honestly perplexed. "Planning raids on some of these conditioning cells isn't exactly getting carried away, in my book. We can't get at them, there are kids needing to be gotten out, and Fred and his team are able to do it. It seems pretty elementary to me."

"And what happens when they start putting the pieces together? All these raids, all of a sudden. If your taskforce raises the pressure like this and keeps it up, what's to stop them from shutting the new training program down?" He knew Madelyn understood the euphemism as well as he did.

"You think they wouldn't put the pieces together from the X-Men suddenly popping up where they hadn't been before?" Madelyn pointed out. "The task force has been working on Mistra since Charles spoke to the President about it. They've been established in Mistra's minds as a source of opposition, the first they've had in far too long a time. We're already seeing them starting to make mistakes because of the pressure being put on them, by breaking up into these smaller cells that are easier to take out." Madelyn took a breath. "And maybe we're risking the lives of all the kids they have by hitting them hard and fast, but if we go too slow, those kids are just as dead from the conditioning process. Or worse. If we act, at least we've got a chance of getting them out before that happens."

Nathan's jaw clenched. "You don't need to remind me about the death rate and when it kicks in," he said roughly, then swore as he proceeded to burn his tongue on his coffee. "And I don't know why we're having the discussion. Obviously, you're right, and I'm not objective."

"We're having this discussion because I sure as hell don't know what your problem is, Nathan, and I really would like to." Madelyn kept her tone calm, even as her eyes narrowed at his words. "And because if this is going to work, we're going to have to work together - all of us. The taskforce can't handle a full team - the X-Men can. The X-Men can't be everywhere, the taskforce has wider coverage. We've all got the same goal here, so I don't understand why you're sitting there glowering at me at every briefing."

"I'm not glowering at you," Nathan said. "I'm just glowering." Which was true. He certainly didn't hold Maddie responsible for anything the taskforce was doing, and he'd never been the type to shoot the messenger anyway. "Although if you keep implying that you question my committment to this, I think I could be excused either way."

"I'm not questioning your committment, Nathan. But you seem to be questioning theirs. Ours." Calm, Madelyn reminded herself. Nathan was under a lot of pressure here, which gave him a certain amount of leeway. But this was too important to screw up over Nathan's personal issues with Mistra. She kept that last thought firmly buttoned down, using the techniques Charles had shown all of them. "You're not happy with the government being involved, are you?"

"I suppose I should be happy," Nathan said flatly, not breaking eye contact as he felt her making a concerted effort to guard her thoughts. "I've always been a proponent of having people clean up their own messes, after all." It came out with a bit more of a snap than it should have.

Ah, there they were. Madelyn couldn't blame him, of course, given it had been a government administration that had developed Mistra. "Except you don't believe they can. Or want to," she replied, meeting his glare steadily.

"Oh, I think they can. I think that they're quite capable of making this go away, very quickly, given the necessary information and contacts," Nathan grated. "Maybe they'd ever regret the collateral damage after the fact."

Anger flashed at that. "That's unfair, Nathan. You seriously think we'd let that happen? That _I'd_ be involved in something that would let that happen?" Despite her efforts to remain calm, she'd risen to her feet, the better to meet his eyes. "If we're going into generalisations here, why don't I just go sign up for the FoH as well, shall I?"

"I don't think you would. I don't even think that your friends in the FBI would," Nathan snapped. "You vouch for them, I trust your judgement. But what about the other parts of the taskforce? The CIA? The inevitable politicians sitting in oversight of this operation? Can you vouch for them, too?"

"If I have to," Madelyn retorted. Then her tone softened a little. "Look, Nathan, I can understand your feelings here, but these aren't the same people. The taskforce is not simply one group holding all the power - why do you think it's been spread out over several agencies? So that there is less chance of things being swept under the rug. As for the inevitable politicians overseeing it... The President is doing that himself. He felt he couldn't trust anyone else to that, and that he had a duty to correct what his predecessors had done." She gave him a small smile. "He understands the issues, Nathan. That's why he took the job on himself."

Why was he constantly surrounded by people who insisted on making sense at him? Nathan lowered himself back into his chair, sipping pensively at his over-hot coffee. "You'd think I'd be able to accept the idea of a man with principles," he muttered, "given that I seem to have found myself working for one." He shook his head irritably. "This is why I'm not making any of the decisions here," he said. "I'm not even sure why you're all letting me sit in on these briefings."

"Because this was your task before it was ever ours," Madelyn told him, sitting back down herself. "Just as you can't do this by yourself, Nathan, we can't do it without you."

"My task." Nathan's jaw clenched. "Who decided that? I'm honestly curious here, Madelyn. Since it seems to be the general consensus."

"You did." Madelyn said calmly. "The moment you got Anika out, the moment you saved Kyle and Foley. When you were prepared to walk in there and let them use this Trojan Horse to shut the operation down. Hell, Nathan, you've been fighting these bastards since they first took you."

He almost pointed out to her that he hadn't done much choosing when it came to the Trojan Horse, but just grimaced instead. "At least MacInnis didn't use Kritzer's line about how I should feel responsible for all the operatives I've killed over the years," he muttered, thinking about that meeting on the Blackbird. "I think I would have dropped him out of the plane if he had. But he was so insistent that this was my task, too."

"It's not about feeling responsible, Nathan - Kritzer was a manipulative bitch who knew which buttons to push. But it is about making the choice. You asked why you're in on the briefings - it's because you haven't walked out." Madelyn shrugged. "You could, you know. None of us would think any the less of you."

"Maybe I feel responsible," Nathan said tightly. "And maybe I'm tired of being just one more of their victims. Except I am, aren't I? Because I can't make these decisions, and we all know it. All I saw, for months, was the trap. Push too hard and they all die."

"'Saw', Nathan. Past tense. What do you see now?"

"The fact that there are going to be losses," Nathan said, his voice hoarse. "Whatever we do. And that I'd rather they be lost because we're trying to help them than lost because we stand back hoping a better solution magically presents itself." He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I may even, at some point, be able to forgive myself for that."

"I think that's what all of us are hoping," Madelyn said softly, for the first time the professional veneer cracking, just for a moment. "It's an ugly situation, Nathan, and there are going to be losses no matter what we do... but at least with as many people working on this as we can get, there's a chance we can minimise those." In her mind's eye, however, she was seeing those five body bags again.

"Alison isn't going to let me near a conditioning center again," Nathan said after a moment. "And Scott, Ororo and Charles back her on that, I know that. I have to confess... she's probably got a point. I'm not sure I could do it, even now." He took a deep breath. "But I suppose there are other things I can do," he said, "if the opportunity arises."

She nodded. "And that's all you can do, Nathan. What you can." Gesturing at her files, she added. "It's all any of us can do."

Nathan took a deep, slightly unsteady breath, and let it back out on a sigh. "I'm being perverse," he said. "Can't stand the sense of helplessness, have nightmares about the cost of acting..."

"We're all feeling that," she said, tone still quiet. "Not to the extent you are, because we're not so close. But still, it's impossible not to know what is going on out there and not feel that conflict. To want to stop this now, but knowing what we risk."

Nathan met her eyes. "I know it's personal for you," he said quietly. "Please don't... take anything I said as doubting that?"

She dropped her eyes, taking a calming breath. "I'll try not to," she said at last. Looking up at him, she went on. "As much as I'm part of Charles' staff, Charles' dream... I spent a significant time as part of a government agency, and not just because it was just a job. It was... a calling, just as much as medicine ever was. Moreso, in a way. I'm not naive, I don't believe in the infallibility of governments. But to find out an administration, very like the one I worked for, could develop such a program as Mistra, as the one that resulted in Remy... it was hard. Then to be accused of being involved in covering up what was done, regardless of the cost... I was in Vermont too, Nathan. I dealt with those children, once they were brought out. I still see them, in dreams sometimes."

"I'm sorry." It seemed like an insufficient sort of thing to say, but he hoped she'd take it for what it was worth. "I do trust you, Madelyn. I do trust individuals. It's when it comes to the machinery of government that I just... can't," he said, his voice almost inaudible. "Does that make me paranoid?"

"It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you." Madelyn's voice was flat, tired-sounding. "I should get back to it. Fred will need to know what is going on from our end. Try and clean up our mess." She gave him a sad smile. "As much as we can, any way." She stood again, gathering up her files and laptop. "We'll finish this, Nate. All of us, as carefully as we can."

"They used to tell us that if you went into a fight thinking you were going to lose, you'd lost already," Nathan said, his eyes unfocusing a little as he stared at the table. "If I run short on hope, here, Maddie, kick me in the ass?"

That got a more realistic smile from her. "Remember that you said I could when I do?"

"Eidetic memory, remember? I'm not liable to forget." He mustered a smile in return. "And, you know, feel free to throw something at my head if I rant at you like this again. I was out of line."

"I shouldn't have pushed," she replied. "And I've done my own ranting, in my time. It's probably karma."

Nathan got up, paused for a moment, then reached out a hand. Madelyn hesitated for a moment, then took it, and he squeezed her hand gently. "It was a good briefing," he said, a faint, tired smile playing on his lips. "You have a definite knack."

"Well, you know what they say, it's like riding a bicycle..." Madelyn returned the squeeze. "And if you need anything, Nathan, you know where to find me."