Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists.
11. Mission: Impossible
Remy only saw Jubilee when she waved, shouting a cheerful "Hey, there!" She was chewing like she was starving and someone might try to take away the food. Gambit laughed to himself, allowing only a grin to show, as he escorted Anna towards the petite. She really could use polishing those manners. She wasn't a kid anymore, despite her youthful upbeat spirit, and grown people need a bit of graciousness if they're to get to their goals, especially if charm is out of the equation. After all, the petite's brand of cheerfulness was contagious, not charming.
"I was starting to think I'd finish before you arrived," she motioned for them to sit in between bites.
"Sorry, sugar, we woke up late."
The girl laughed, mischievously. "I bet you had great reasons for it, but as I told your personal swamp rat on the phone, I'm on a reeeeally tight schedule here, so I started without you. Hope you don't mind too much, though I did order some bread and butter with extra cheese to be brought in the exact moment my friends arrived."
She waved her hand as a waiter passed by and reminded him of 'the special order for her friends'.
"Should be here any moment now. Oh, and I ordered some champagne too!" Jubilee gestured wildly above a bottle in a bucket of ice. "Well, not really, but it's a bubbly champagne-like drink which is all the same only better 'cause my paycheck doesn't cover the fancy-schmuck."
Oh? He wasn't aware of the FBI paycheck being stingy. In fact, he was pretty sure it was comfortable from day one.
"But, anyways," she shrugged. "I wanted to celebrate that famous deadline you were so worried about, so… ta-da!"
Remy smirked and picked the bottle of golden sparkling wine… Oh, demi sec. Being a sweeter sparkly, it was really best left for dessert.
"Oh, sugar, ya didn't hav'ta!"
"Course I didn't," she shrugged. "That's so not the point."
"Thank you. Ah really appreciate the gesture, but… Ah thought ya weren't working today, bein' Saturday and all."
Anna and Remy both. A waiter came in with the plate of butter bread and asked if they were ready to order.
"Mmm," Jubilee swallowed down, "ask for the Neepolitan pizza. It's their specialty and they come out real fast."
They followed the tip, added drinks and picked up the bread and butter.
"As I was saying, the FBI doesn't do the five-day week thing. If there's a case, you pick up your stuff and get your ass to work. No complaints. Anyway, Sofia and I, we're juggling three different cases here in California. Can you believe it? I mean, we spend months doing nothing but mind-boggling boring paperwork and then, boom, three for the price of one. Geez!"
Trying to avoid another tirade, Remy cleared his throat. "Alors, dis mole ya talked 'bout…"
"That!" Jubilee took a mouthful and chewed it while cleaning her hands and getting a briefcase onto her lap. "I got all the documentation right here."
Anna picked up the thick file with a confused frowned. "What's this?"
"Your new identities."
Remy glanced over at Anna, both lost, as Jubilee took a long sip from her soda. But then she noticed their frowns and swallowed the last gulp down, an explanation ready on her tongue.
"Yeah, I know, but I can't drink alcohol on the job."
Remy shook his head at that piece of information with a 'huh?' that really meant 'where did that come from?'.
"Ya've gotten t'drinkin'," Anna asked, a tone of mild surprise on her voice.
"Hello?" The girl's eyes rolled dramatically. "Beer with the meal does not count as drinking."
Whatever. The girl was old enough to drink as she pleased, after all. I mean, what did that topic have to do with anything?
"Oui, oui, c'est bien, alors… what's dis wid new identities?"
"Well, I told you the other day: the mole, whoever they are, got access to our database. They choose folks that got registered for something minimal, whether it's a former mutant caught graffitiing or a former mutant who got mugged or whatever. They never target mutants, only former mutants, that's an important detail."
"How did ya figure out ya had a mole in the first place," Anna asked.
"Easy: how often do we get a second report on people who were first reported over an insignificant situation? In the first ten months, none whatsoever. In the last four? Nine. All in California. What are the chances of that, huh?"
The spike in numbers was suspicious indeed, even if he knew next to nothing about their procedures.
"What happened to those nine people?"
Jubilee shook her head vigorously. "Not nine people, nine reports. In every case, both the person we had registered as well as their close family got accidentally murdered."
That put Remy on his guard and he glanced at Anna as she leaned forward. "Accidentally?"
Jubilee nodded, serious. "In every single instance, the deaths were ruled accidents: car accidents, fires, drownings, you name it, and, like I said, all ruled accidental deaths. Anyways, I got this gut-feeling, 'cause just think about it: how many accidents wipe out entire families? I mean, sure it happens, but if you start going into statistics and stuff (and the FBI is totally hung up on statistics), so if you start checking statistics you'll see that most family-wide accidents usually get at least one surviving individual, more or less hurt, ok, maybe they'll even eventually die of sustained injuries and stuff, but they don't all die on the spot. So, nine cases of entirely-killed families right on the spot with no surviving members whatsoever? It doesn't fit the bill, period. Add the spike in numbers to that tab and it's downright begging for someone to dig up some dirt. So I started asking stuff around, only off-record, you know, didn't show my FBI credentials... didn't even give my name! And I realised that there were folks calling it accidents when there were obvious signs of foul play, and, ok, so maybe they weren't screaming obvious but you look at the details and it's right there in your face: foul play, duh! And it was ruled accidental all the same!"
Hm. That sounded like the conspiracy lay on whoever was calling the deaths accidental. Anna seemed to be reasoning along the same lines.
"Are ya absolutely sure these deaths ruled accidental are only affectin' mutants?"
Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Well, duh, Rogue. The only families being wiped out in the state are former mutant families. And before you say anything else, no, it's not a coincidence. And I'm not saying it because I don't believe in coincidences – which I don't – I'm saying it because... because it ain't! Period."
Bien, if there was someone out there targeting former mutants, who had managed to get a mole inside the FBI and had enough people in the right places to sweep the deaths under the accidental rug... they were dealing with a well-oiled organization.
"Alors, let's take a step back." That got Gambit a frustrated grunt and he clarified. "We don't know nuthin' 'bout how yer SPAD thing works, petite, have no idea where a mole could hide."
That got him an eye roll that extended to her upper body. "I know where the mole can be... anywhere! That's why I need you to help me flush them out."
Uh-huh.
"Ya ain't gonna find many willin' baits if ya don't share some information, sugah."
Jubilee gaped as if she'd just heard the greatest injustice in the world and Gambit couldn't hold back a smirk.
"Whatchya talking about? I'm telling you everything!"
"So just carry on tellin' us 'bout SPAD, then!"
"Oh, for the... Fine. It's the most basic procedure anyways. Ya got technicians alloted to each state, right? The technicians get randomly assigned to a state every week; a state getting one or more techs according to the numbers of reports in the previous week. They receive copies of police cases that have anything mutant related and register all the individuals involved."
"Gambit thought de Initiative did dat."
"Well, yeah, their techs get the mutant cases and the SPAD techs get the former mutant cases, which, right now, are way more than theirs."
Anna finished swallowing her last piece of bread and wiped her hands with a muffled 'wait'.
"Ya said these killings happen only in California, right? Have ya checked the techs in charge o' the state?"
"No. We will eventually check them out, but, honestly? In between us? I don't think it's one of them. First off, they change state weekly. Secondly, techs create a file on a person and once they're done, that's it. They can't access the file again. I mean, not unless the name shows up in another police case, because they've got to reference every change they do to a file. So, not likely. I mean, sure, they could be waiting to get assigned to California, and then taking notes on the side of every person they register, or at least the ones that fit their objectives, but... Nah! Don't think so. They'd have minimum chances of finding the type of target they want with so much randomness going on. Anyway, they... oh."
Remy followed Jubilee's eyes: the waiter was headed their way with his hands full. In the silence that surrounded the arrival of the delicious smelling pizzas, Jubilee was busy stuffing her face. In fact, both Anna and Remy managed to start their meal before the petite could swallow it all down.
"Anyway, the techs register the intel and the individuals registered are divided into offenders and non-offenders. Whenever the cops need a background check (the police departments only get access to the database if they agree to send us copies of cases with mutants and former mutants) so when the police need a background check, they only get intel on folks registered as offenders."
Not so bad. At least not every single registered mutant, or former mutant, was searchable by anyone who felt like it.
"But, in order to get any info, they have to fill in a form saying why they need the background check, and if the person is a vic or a perp or a missing person or is in danger or whatever. So, like I said, if the individual is a former perp, they get the info they need automatically, but if it's a former vic, then our analysts get called in, they analyse the reason why the cops want a background check and will send the required info if and only if it's relevant."
"Fer example?" Rogue asked.
"Oh, I don't know, say... say the cops have a potential witness or a person of interest on a robbery case. Let's call her Jane. What does it matter if Jane was previously harrassed for being a mutant or former mutant? They don't get anything. But, on the other hand, say that Jane just had her house vandalised. If she suffered a similar attack in the past, the cops will be informed that so and so (or unknown perps, whatever) vandalised or broke into her house in the past. Or maybe Jane isn't even a former mutant or anything! Maybe she was just mugged by a mutant thug. If she still lives in the same area and the known thug still lives there too, the cops will be informed so they can check if there is a connection. Otherwise, if it bears no connection, they get zilch once more. Even the Initiative, in cases like these, they do nothing. They only come in if the mutant being checked out is a perp. Hell, the cops aren't even informed if the person is or ever was a mutant."
Fair enough, even if it still made Remy itchy. First of all, if the information was in the database, most people would flat out guess they were either mutants or former mutants; secondly, if you had the right skills, you could go over the failsafes.
"Now imagine Jane is missing. In that case, our squad analyst gets called in and he makes the call to send the police all the information we possess, 'cause it may be relevant, you never know with missing cases, right? Sometimes, when that happens, the police will flat out call us in to get the case off their hands, especially in busy areas or, more often, because they're prejudiced assholes. But, anyway, that's when Sofia and I go in and save the day. Another situation is if our hypothetical Jane is in danger. In that case, our squad analyst will first and foremost offer the police our assistance, all very quietly, under their command and all that. Here in California, they often welcome the help; in other places, not so much. Or, once more, they kick it over to us and don't ever want to hear about it again. But, anyway, that's how it works."
Remy sat back, thinking it over, as Jubilee took a long sip of her soda and resumed her attack on her pizza.
"Alors, de techs, dey don't have access t'de information outside de moment when dey's enterin' it..." Unless, obviously, one of them had the technical skills to overcome those barriers. "But de analysts do."
Jubilee nodded as she was swallowing.
"Yeah, but not the genetic make-up."
"What d'ya mean?" Anna asked.
"Well, it's like this: you need special clearance to know whether the individuals are, or were, mutants, and what powers they possess, or possessed."
"Alors, who are dey?"
"OK, that's, uh..." and the petite started counting her fingers. "The Initiative head analyst and the Initiative Director, or whatever they call Gyrich these days, our head analyst and our head manager, plus the squad analyst, and... the squad leaders. Nine people, counting Sofia and me."
"That's either some funny Maths or ya've been keepin' squads under wraps," Anna grinned. "I though there were only two, yours and Sofia's"
Jubilee rolled her eyes, putting her tongue out with a grimace. "We were accepted into the FBI ranks 'cause Fury pulled some strings, remember? So we got in even though we had no college degree and we were way underage for their rules. So, the deal was we have to have a special-agent babysitting us till we turn 24, which basically means Sofia and I are squad leaders in title only."
Alors, there weren't that many possibilities, were there?
"Who have ya told 'bout yer suspicions?" Anna asked.
"Sofia. She's the only one I told. In fact, we've been working on this in our spare time, making sure we're hiding our tracks 'cause, imagine it's our manager, right? Yeah, we're keeping mum ab..."
A phone started buzzing and Jubilee grumbled under her breath as she read the text.
"Look, I gotta go. There's been a development and I'm needed ASAP. So, bottom line is... One: whoever's behind this, they choose either young families or couples about to start a family. Two: they study their targets carefully before causing an accident. Three: they prefer targets who live in houses in quiet neighbourhoods. Four: like I said before, their targets are all in California. At least so far."
"An' dese documents?"
Jubilee smirked at Remy mischievously. "Should you choose to accept this mission, those identities will be added to the database. You'll be newlyweds who've just moved to an out-of-the-way beach house after you had your previous house vandalised by some punks. You are both former mutants who had the very impressive powers of light-weight telekinesis. Oh, and your jobs… you have none. You won a small fortune in a casino and decided to take it easy for a while, maybe eventually start a business that will let you work from home after you sprout a kindergarten worth of kids."
Anna chuckled unamused and glanced at the file on her lap. "Ya got us a beach house? On yer salary?"
"Ha, ha, very funny. As if! No, I bugged Warren for a favour. He doesn't know the details, but I told him it was a life-and-death matter. Plus, if he could chip in with a supposedly casino-won-little-fortune, he could count on Wolvie also owing him a favour, so he probably thinks he's involved in the whole thing."
Remy couldn't help the sudden laugh. "De homme even know 'bout it?"
"Obviously... not. And don't you go and tell him, you hear? First, we flush the mole; then I tell him. Besides, you know he'll be only too happy to have been of service on my cruzade. Not to mention, since when does Warren collect favours from Wolvie, huh? He's got way more diplomatic approaches to his problems. Not to mention I can always tell Wolvie that Warren asked me the favour of asking him for help. And Wolvie wouldn't say no to me, anyways."
"Bien, ma petite, ya lemme know when ya gonna tell 'im so Gambit can make sure he's far, far away."
Jubilee started making a face at him but another buzz from her phone aborted the whole thing. "Right… are you up to it, or should I hunt down another set of newlyweds?"
"You an' Sofia will be the only ones t' know 'bout this undercover mission, right?"
"Yupe. I won't even tell the others. The X-Men, I mean."
Jubilee's phone rang and the girl mouthed a sorry before picking it up. "Yes, Elton, I know. I'll be there in five. Swea… OK, fine! I'll be there in fifteen. Is that realistic enough for you? Yeah, I know. I know! I said I... ... You're making me late with this, you know? Bye."
She put the phone away with a roll of the eyes. "Sorry, guys, gotta bolt. So, what do you say?"
Remy and Anna looked at eachother for a moment, then both nodded. "We'll be yer bait, sugar. Ya can count on us."
"I knew I could," she smiled brightly, sliding off the chair even though there was still half a pizza on her plate. "Enjoy your champagne, sort of. And don't call me, I'll call you, get it? Any contacts have to be through secure mediums to make sure we aren't spotted."
Jubilee got up and headed for the door, then ran back to them, a little paper bag in her hand. "Sorry, almost forgot. Here's a little wedding present to help you get on with your new temporary lives."
Remy picked up the little thing with a suspicious frown and peeked in. Oh.
"What is it?"
He looked at Anna and poured the contents onto his open hand. "Weddin' bands."
Anna laughed, but Remy didn't feel particularly amused. Those things felt solid and heavy. She picked the smaller one and slid it smoothly onto her finger; then, without a single hesitation, she picked the other one and slid it onto his. The first thought that crossed his mind was that his hand was now useless for pickpocketing, with the clumsy, heavy thing throwing off his finger and hand balance. Not to say it was tight too.
"Jubilee must have used Cerebro's biometrics," Anna said as she admired both ringed hands, side by side.
"Biometrics?" He echoed, not following her reasoning.
"Yeah, the ones we use t' make perfectly fittin' uniforms? Gloves an'all?" She chuckled. "There's no way she'd guess our ring sizes to a perfect fittin' otherwise."
If that was the case, his hand biometrics needed updating.
"Ya know, since we're married… what d'ya say to an after-lunch honeymoon, huh?"
Mais, at least there was a silver-lining to every bad thing, right? Gambit kissed her lips lightly, teasingly.
"I'd say lunch, it is fini."
Anna laughed and he almost forgot the cold, heavy thing on his finger. Almost. It would definitely take some getting used to. But at least it was temporary. Most mecs that got a ring on couldn't soothe themselves with that thought.
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