Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. Ilehana Xavier belongs to Corrinth. All other characters belong to me.
A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers out there; you really are all stars.
Scene 20The President of the United States of America sat poised in his chair, listening very carefully to everything the Director of the CIA had to say about the people who had murdered his daughter's friends. And when his man had finished, there didn't seem anything for the President to say.
Not so far away, a sleek black jet landed baring a contingent of mutants. Cyclops lead his team as they disembarked, the red laser blasts of his visor betraying his urgency to make sure their voices were heard by those that mattered. Nightcrawler's teleporting martial art skill stunned more than one of the President's armed forces; Jubilee's frantic mutant attacks disabling their security systems. Storm raised a fog that covered the complex, making visibility poor and spotting the approaching X-Men nigh impossible with the naked eye. Matthew Cooper winced as Cyclops took out another guard, the man falling from his outpost to hit the deck below with force. This was not going to be an easy ride.
The President listened as his advisors argued amongst themselves, noting who sided with the mutants, and who saw that this was a way to ease the problems mutants caused. Who saw the weapon as a tactical aide for use only against mutants who caused trouble, who could not be stopped any other way. And which extremists would stop at nothing to infect every mutant across the world, and could arrange treaties with other likewise thinking foreign politicians over the sale of the virus. It was hypothesised that in weeks they could earn back the money spent acquiring the virus in weapons and oil from across the globe. But most of all, the President noted which of his inner circle said nothing at all, one way or the other.
"Marta, you've had nothing to say. Why don't you let us all in on what you are thinking?"
The woman in question frowned briefly, shaking her fine mousy hair back from her face and adjusting her fitted suit. She'd been with the President for as long as he could remember, a crucial part of his pre-election campaign and even more so since his nod into the hot seat.
"I believe we are missing the important message here." Marta began, her voice even over the disputes of the mainly male inner circle. One by one they all turned from their private arguments to listen to what she was saying. "These people, who ever they may be, have already proved they have the ability, the intelligence, and the power to go after mutant kind as they will. They have shown no mutant, not even those so well protected and disguised by our own intelligence community, is beyond their reach. They could very well be playing us, trying to make us slip up..."
"Are you suggesting that this is all the petty game of some foolhardy terrorist?" One of the military types attacked her. "Perhaps a mutant himself, trying to start their precious war? Maybe we should have Eric Lencher brought in for questioning?"
"What, again?" The joke came from the back of the group; Marta could not identify the cause, but smiled coldly at the snigger it caused amongst men who thought they were her betters.
"They can infect every mutant citizen of the United States and blame it on us. They will cause the biggest mass panic and public outcry ever seen. Fear of plague-carrying mutants will spread to every corner of the globe. Those who are not infected will be murdered by vigilante mobs, and we will be held responsible. Mr President, this is blackmail. We pay these people off to obtain control over the virus, or they will go it alone and release it into the population anyway."
Silence. And then uproar. Nobody quite knew how to take Marta's statement as the President sat there quietly and watched them squabble like three-year-olds over a Barbie doll. Then the chaos ran wild as armed men charged the room, flung politicians, agents and military leaders one way and another in order to get to the President. The President's eyes bulged; press-ganged into moving from his seat they almost made it to the door before several shadowy figures in uniforms he vaguely recognised clouded the door.
"Mr President." The two foremost men, one wearing a visor of some kind over his eyes and one without, marched straight up to the leader of the nation without fear. One of the guards reached for his gun, but a poof! of blue smoke and it was taken from his hand. That the President definitely recognised. Mutants. The Hawaiian sky darkened and a mist drifted about the room as lightning flashed mournfully outside, echoed by a pale blue sheen running over the hands of one of the other mutants dressed in black.
"Mr President." The same, easy American voice, equally likeable and untrustworthy, demanded his attention. "We are here to inform you that you don't have all the information regarding the viral threat to the mutant population." Matthew paused for a second, watching as the President indicated for his guards to let him go, moved to the top of the table as the committee's other members also retook their seats, if a little more hesitantly.
"You have my attention, mutant." The President answered, and Matthew was aware of more armed men moving into position behind the X-Men. The time for the use of force had passed; all now depended on Matthew's words. He hoped he was up to the task. He didn't take offence at being called a mutant; for the purposes of this argument, it didn't matter.
"Hawaii is not the only location of a viral outbreak. Travelling via a normal human infected here on the island, it has already claimed the life of an innocent mutant in upstate New York." Gasps around the room confirmed Storm's worse fears; they had been lead to believe that the virus was completely controllable. Jubilee smothered a tear at the thought of Colossus. "It is impossible to say how many other mutants have already been infected in the same way, through close contact with infected humans travelling from Hawaii. Whatever you have been told about the disease, about where it has come from, the people who told you are not in control of it."
"You have a chance, now, to stop this before it gets any further." Cyclops didn't speak as well as Matthew, but he just couldn't keep quiet, not on this. "Do you even know how many people, men, women, children, this virus could kill? If it gets out, there will be no stopping it."
"And you expect us to care, mutant?" One of the hardliners spoke with a sneer to his voice. "You expect us normal humans to mourn you mutant freaks when you're gone?"
"But what of the panic, the hysteria?" One of the others spoke. "Riots, anarchy, chaos. Mutants and normal people. We know what disease can do to a country; we would lose all control, no matter if humans are immure or not..."
"We need to know more. Where the virus came from. Who is manufacturing it. Whether there is a cure." Someone else counted factors off on his fingers as the man sat on her left nodded sagely.
"Mr President." Matthew spoke calmly, straight to the man at the heart of the discussion. "You have the control. Stop this now. Let these people know this country does not negotiate with terrorists; mutant or human."
"By that argument," The President spoke just as evenly, seemingly unaware of the sudden quiet around him. "I should not be speaking to you, bargaining here with your demands and threats of violence."
"I understand that, Mr President. But these are not ordinary times, and our information could not wait ..."
"I understand what you are saying." The President sat back in his chair, almost casually as chaos ruled around him. He tried not to notice the blue mutant who's almost killed him following the conversation diligently. "Though perhaps next time Charles Xavier would be so kind as to telephone before sending his people charging in to one of my meetings?"
"Do we have your agreement, then, Mr President?" Matthew pressed, "You will do everything in your power to protect the mutants of the United States?"
"You have my word that I will continue to dedicate myself and my presidency to the continuing protection of this country." The President answered tactfully, but his eyes were smiling. "I can say no more than that."