"Something's not right."
"I agree Charles," Erik said, "Namely you meeting with them in the first place."
Charles shook his head and switched the phone in his hands. He could be having the conversation through telepathy, but he'd already been having a long night.
"Let's not have that. You agreed that this was the right course for us," said Charles, "We've already thoroughly enraged one of the world's two foremost superpowers; politically we should have friendly ties with the other."
"And I'm telling you neither will want us."
"Yes your majesty," Charles said.
There was an irritated snort on the other end.
"Stop calling me that."
"But it's true," said Charles, "The coronation was a week ago. I was there, wasn't I?"
Erik gave a frustrated sigh.
"I just wish this country didn't still believe in rights of conquest," he said.
"But it does," Charles said, "And you drew the short straw on that one."
"I'm a King who can't find his family," said Erik sharply, "I've more than just 'drawn the short straw' on this deal."
Charles rubbed his temples.
"Which is another reason that we need to have some sort of ties to the United States," said Charles, "If Susanna and Lorna are still there then we'll be able to find them with a great deal more ease if we have some sort of ties."
This was, of course, not a new point. He'd used it countless times in trying to convince Erik that they needed allies. There were a thousand other reasons. They had inherited a host of problems, ones that they needed to rectify with utmost speed.
"Don't lecture me," snapped Erik, "I have, if you remember, agreed to this."
"Then stop fighting me."
There was a long pause.
"Alright Charles," Erik said, "With the uprising by the bay yesterday and now this..."
"That's something else we need to talk about," said Charles, tightening his hand into a fist.
Mindful of Logan's presence he lowered his voice.
"What Creed did was unacceptable."
"I know," Erik said, "He's still under detention. I don't know how else we can punish him though. He doesn't really want anything, so we can't take it away."
"We'll have to figure it out," Charles said, "One more incident like this...he's been with us for a long time, but we've always known that we might have to deal with him."
"I'm taking him off missions," said Erik, "That should upset him. We'll talk about this more later. Now, what were you saying wasn't right?"
"Well, their ignorance of the MRD was surprising," said Charles, "and it was genuine. It made MacTaggert uneasy to hear it and Levine straight-up refused to believe. His reaction was pretty much what I expected when we explained who we were."
Briefly he thought back to the young woman with the auburn hair, the only one of the two who had used her first name.
"Hers wasn't."
"Meaning?"
"She didn't seem shocked by the idea of mutants," he said, "I think she knows some, or has at least seen, a few. She was too calm when we showed our mutations. No one is that good an actor. I haven't looked into her mind yet so I can't be sure."
"So go in and make sure."
"Erik, they are already suspicious of me now that they know I can read thoughts," Charles sighed, "Part of building good relationships is having a level of trust. If I make one little mistake then these negotiations will be closed forever."
"You're going to have to do it sooner or later," Erik said.
"I know, I know," sighed Charles.
There were a few more seconds of silence.
"But you think that this MacTaggert will prove to be an ally?"
"I'm almost certain of it," Charles said, "I think she spent most of her time after the meeting was over last night explaining to Levine why they shouldn't call for extraction immediately. She's curious and she wants to know more."
"I find it hard to believe that two members of the CIA entrusted with a diplomatic mission wouldn't know about the MRD," said Erik.
"I do too," Charles admitted, "It makes me wonder if there isn't something we're missing. The program in Russia might have been unaffiliated with the government too; we're still not sure about that. How is Azazel coming on that?"
"So far he's only checked in. Nothing to report so far," Erik said, "But let's focus on the Americans. So now what? Now you play tour guide?"
"Something like that, yes."
"Good luck," Erik said dryly.
"And good luck to you when you finally decide to meet with them," Charles said.
"Hmph."
Charles rolled his eyes and hung up the phone. He cracked his soldiers and got up. Logan was waiting for him outside his door. Neena had gone to supervise Levine and Moira's timely departure. He hadn't approved of the idea of bodyguards, but everyone had insisted. The choice of Logan was troubling, but Neena was levelheaded enough to keep him back for a few minutes if need be before he got there.
He walked into the main foyer, Logan trailing behind him. Levine and Moira were already there. Moira looked much as she had the night before, professional and interested. Levine looked like he'd come out of the wrong end of wood chipper. Charles felt sorry for the man. He had had his view of the world turned upside down in one night.
"I trust you slept well," Charles said.
"Very," said Moira, "We have some questions to ask you."
"Indeed," Charles said, "We can talk in the car."
"Car?" asked Levine, sounding somewhat panicked.
Almost imperceptibly Moira moved to brush her elbow against his. His face assumed a more neutral expression, although Charles could tell he was still scared.
"Yes," said Charles, "we thought that you would be interested in seeing the capitol city today. It is two hours away; the roads are still being repaired. I'm afraid that Magnus is busy today, but we have a meeting arranged later in the week."
The use of his friend's new name fell awkwardly off his tongue. Charles had agreed that, seeing as he had family he wished to protect, it would be better than Erik. One simple name would preserve his identity while reinforcing his power. Calling him by anything other than the name he'd know him by for over three years was still strange though. Like when someone called him by his title, it felt like he was refering to someone else.
"That's where you'll be staying from now on," Charles said, "We thought that it might be more comfortable to have a closer site for the first night. It was a rather long flight."
"That was very considerate, thank you," said Moira.
He smiled.
"We're all hopeful that we can come to some kind of accord," Charles said.
He turned around and waved them on. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Moira's continuous elbow brush and side glances at her partner. It did seem to be calming the man down to some degree. He wondered vaguely if they were married or something of that sort, but quickly dismissed it. They wouldn't allow inter-office relationships in the CIA. Besides, they didn't give off the air of a married couple.
Neena had brought the car around earlier, trading guarding duties with Logan. Seeing as her very mutation meant that she had better luck than everyone around her she would be driving. It didn't do to get into any car accidents when they were driving the preludes to any ambassadors.
They got in, Logan and Neena in the front and Charles with the agents in the back. The engine started up and Charles folded his hands.
"Now, you said you had questions."
"To start with," Moira said, "I'm sure Levine and I would like to know some more about this MRD you mentioned last night. I don't know of any organization by that name and I don't believe my superior does either. Are you sure it's a government bureau?"
Charles frowned. He'd never had any reason to question the MRD's affiliation with the government. Other governments around the world were locking up mutants. It made sense that the United States would follow suit. However, their ignorance made him recheck his original hypothesis.
"I will say…that we believe there are other options. But not many," said Charles, "We have reason to believe that there are similar divisions all around the world. That's how many people ended up on Genosha in the first place."
"And you?" asked Levine.
Charles shook his head.
"No, but the MRD are the reason I left home several years ago," he said, "It was either stay and be captured, or leave and take my chances. Understandably I chose to leave."
Moira nodded, her eyes scanning the countryside. Heavy shelling had pockmarked the landscape and there were crews that were fixing up the land for future irrigation. A young girl dug her hands into the ground half a mile away from them. Green grass blossomed, and trees began to grow.
He watched as Moira's expression softened at the display of the girl's gift. Levine, he knew, was sweating and trying to remain calm. Moira's reaction was much more interesting, much more of a reason to hope that the rest of the world might accept them. If she could look with wonder at them then maybe others could too.
She continued to watch until she was out of thier view.
"Is the entire population made up of mutants?" Moira asked.
"No," Charles replied, "we have a human population as well. The mutant population outnumbers it; you'll understand when I say that several of the wealthier residents fled when they realized they were about to lose. However, some families were overjoyed to see their kidnapped relatives returning."
Moira nodded again.
"So, you mentioned that a lot of you are from different countries," she said, "Did most of the freed population return or-?"
He shook his head.
"For whatever reason, they can't go home," said Charles, "We granted citizenship to everyone who had been freed. Some hope to return to their native countries when it's safe and perhaps find their families. They're often not more ambitious than that."
He thought of Erik's family, wherever they were.
"And you?" asked Moira.
Charles blinked.
"Beg pardon?"
"Where are you from?" asked Moira.
Leaning back he considered the question.
"I was born in London," he said, "But my father was American. I was raised in New York."
"So the MRD are in America?" asked Moira.
Her tone wasn't accusatory. In fact, he thought he heard an undercurrent of worry.
"They may be in every country," said Charles, "We're still looking into it."
She nodded and turned her head. She certainly wasn't giving anything away, but he knew he would have to figure it out.
"So right now you're in the process of reconstruction?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, "We've done a pretty good job at feeding ourselves despite the scarring of the countryside, we do have several people who can control vegetation. Others have powers that lend themselves to the construction of buildings or machines."
Levine shifted uncomfortably.
"So, you're telling me that mutations range from mind-reading to controlling elements?" he said, "No offense, but how did anyone get captured in the first place?"
Out of the corner of his eye Charles saw Neena stiffen. She had been imprisoned for five years before she joined them. Charles was unaware of the particulars of her story, but she couldn't have been more than fifteen when she'd been taken. Emma had been even younger. Some had been adults upon their capture, but many more had been children.
The mutants in the vehicle weren't the only ones who were displeased with Levine's question. Moira shot him a sharp look. Charles gave him an even stare before saying;
"Fear. Intimidation. Weapons. I could name any one of a million reasons why mutants were successfully captured and held against their will."
Levine coughed and looked down.
"I understand that you were genuinely curious about that question," said Charles, "And the only reason I answered it is because I know you weren't trying to mock us by it. But I highly advise against repeating it. Some Genoshans grew up being experimented on, trapped inside the metal walls of their cells."
"Sorry," Levine mumbled.
Charles nodded shortly. There were a few seconds of silence where Moira struggled to get back some of her composure. He had to admire her poise.
"So," she said, "I assume that you'll want materials for reconstruction from our government as some military aide. For that matter we're interested on anything you might know about the Soviet Union's current or past activities."
"Not quite," Charles said, "There are a few other things we'd like. Whether or not the MRD is or isn't a government creation we would still at least like an investigation. And…some people would like to know about their families."
Moira pursed her lips in thought.
"I can see how those would be important," she said, "And I agree with you on why you'd want them. The problem is that our government might see this as an uneven trade."
Charles smirked.
"Oh, it won't be once they find out what we know," he said, "Because not all of those rich people fled. Several of them stayed and, as such, we know quite a lot."
She tilted her head. Even Levine looked interested, the first time he looked up after his roundly condemned question.
"Such as?" she asked.
Charles shook a finger and smiled.
"Now now, I can't give away the surprise," he said, "But I wonder agent, what do these words mean to you?"
He widened his smirk.
"Project Winter Soldier."
This time he knew the words rang a bell. Her eyes widened slightly. He'd known that they'd struck a jackpot when they'd plucked that out of his predecessor's head.
"So no Agent MacTaggert," said Charles, "I don't think that the exchange will be uneven at all."