September 10, 1958
"You were attacked by mutants?" asked Erik incredulously.
"That's about the size of it," Moira said.
He shook his head while Charles remained in thoughtful silence.
"I can't say that this makes sense to me," Erik said, "They were experimenting on mutants in those labs."
"If you know some human who can rip metal walls apart with his bare hands then do tell," Christopher said irritably.
Erik shot him a look. Normally Charles knew he would have had an acidic comeback. This time though, he said nothing. It might have had to do with the fact that Christopher had come in a wheelchair, his right leg all but useless due to an injury gained by trying to save mutants. Charles had heard that it would heal in time, but it wouldn't be the same as it was before. He couldn't begin to imagine how frustrating that must be for the Special Forces captain.
He'd come to corroborate Moira and Levine's statement. Charles also suspected that he wanted to settle down there. It seemed like a possible answer; his wife and two sons were there. He found it unlikely that he would be able to retain his old job in light of his injury.
"It was a pretty close escape, all things considered," Moira said, "We were lucky to get the prisoners to safety. I hope they're settling in well."
"Some will need some heavy rehabilitation," Charles said, "You're very lucky you got out in time."
He could hear the slight reproach in his tone. It might not have been correct in diplomatic channels, but he couldn't help but worry about Moira's safety.
"We're even more lucky to be sitting here right now," said Christopher.
She nodded in agreement. Next to her Levine cleared his throat.
"We have photos," Levine said, "We had our cameras out and we were told to document everything. Old habits die hard I suppose."
Christopher shook his head.
"I remember thinking you were crazy for using those cameras instead of just running," he said, "But you were planning on living, weren't you?"
"We were certainly hoping to," Moira said, withdrawing a folder, "A lot of them came out blurry, but we picked the clearest of each of the four."
She pulled photos out of the folder.
"We were wondering if you had encountered these people before," Moira said, "or if anyone who was taken recognized them."
"We'll certainly try," Erik said.
She put a black and white photo on the table. A man with two katanas in his hand charged the camera, slashing through a soldier. Charles looked at Erik, who had gone stiff.
"Him I know," Erik said, "He was the one who came for me when I was still with my wife and child. I was under the impression I'd killed him."
Charles raised his eyebrows.
You never told me that.
I said I was chased by the MRD, Erik thought back, Besides, the particular incident wasn't important.
Out loud he said;
"I didn't know he was a mutant when I saw him. Our meeting was very brief; he had swords and I control metal."
Moira nodded and put out another photo. This one was of a man who Charles supposed was African American, a cowboy hat tipped over his head.
"That's the son of a bitch who teleports," Christopher said, "I stabbed him in the back with a knife, but he lived."
"Him I don't know," Erik said.
There was shuffling behind him. Charles glanced back and blinked. As the meeting had progressed Neena and Azazel had inched forwards to the table. They were on guard duty that night, and he supposed they were just as curious as anyone. He said nothing and returned his attention to the photos that were being laid down.
"Okay," Moira said, "How about him?"
She laid down another photo of an Asian man with guns. Neena let out a strangled noise from the back of her throat.
"Neena?" asked Charles.
"He came for me," Neena said, "I was thirteen; just manifested. I didn't really know that my power was a power. I didn't think he was a mutant when he came, just trained well. Either way, he outshot me."
Something in her voice hinted that it was more than a simple rivalry that existed between the two. She closed her eyes briefly.
"I used to have parents you know," she said, "Believe me when I say he's not going to outshoot me again."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Neena shook her head and stepped back. Moira cleared her throat and fished around for another photo.
"This last one, I think he was the leader," Moira said, "I don't know if anyone was really giving orders, but he was certainly the most problematic."
"He's the one responsible for my current condition," said Christopher, "And he's built like a brick shithouse."
Erik quirked an eyebrow and Charles heard Azazel give a snort of laughter. It certainly wasn't a term normally bandied about the diplomatic channels. Christopher wasn't a diplomat though, and he did have every reason to be bitter.
She laid the photo on the table. The helmet made it hard for Charles to make out any facial features, but he'd know the person in the photo anywhere. He bowed his head and folded his hands together. Closing his eyes he began to wish that the situation would go away, that he was dealing with anything other than what he was seeing.
"Charles?" asked Moira.
"Charles?" Erik said.
He unburied his head, opening his eyes.
"His name is Cain Marko," said Charles, "I knew him before he manifested I believe. He was very strong even then so I'm not sure if they weren't just undeveloped."
Moira looked at him strangely. Charles swallowed hard.
"Ripped apart a steel wall with his bare hands, did he?" he asked.
"That's right," said Christopher, "No other information about his powers?"
Charles shook his head.
"None I'm afraid."
"How did you know him?" asked Levine, frowning.
He took a deep breath.
"We lived in the same neighborhood," Charles said, "He was something of a bully even then. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that he turned out to be a mercenary."
It wasn't technically a lie.
"Not a mercenary," said Levine, "They're the official strike force of the Sapien League."
"The what?" asked Erik.
Now that attention was turned away from Cain and Charles' connection to him he allowed himself to relax slightly. He didn't feel like discussing his past with anyone at the moment, especially any part of it involving Cain. He would file away what he'd heard for later consideration.
That latter would be difficult as well. Charles knew that he would have to talk to Raven about it. Their relationship had been somewhat strained after their latest argument. Sometimes he would catch her looking at him with a vaguely puzzled look on her face. He didn't know what to make of that.
"It's what's been controlling these facilities," Moira said, "The highest concentration of them was in Genosha, but you seem to have taken them out quite handily."
She smiled as she gathered up the photos.
"We think that there are three more facilities out there, mainly in Europe," Moira said, "We're going to approach McCone about taking them down. Meanwhile we've got the trial of Kelly to deal with. We're still looking for more links. He can't be the only one with a hand in funding the Sapien League."
"It's a stupid name," Christopher said, "It sounds like a foot disease."
Charles ventured a chuckle.
"If only," he said, "Is there anything else to report?"
"No," Levine said.
"Then there's just the embassy to talk about," Erik said, "And how soon we can move in. But it's getting late and I know that Christopher and Moira are eager to reconnect with their families. We gave you so little time after the plane."
"It's alright actually," Moira said, smiling faintly, "You started the meeting at Rahne's bedtime anyway."
Erik smiled.
"Nonetheless," he said, "we will continue this discussion tomorrow. And Captain Summers?"
Christopher, who had been halfway to the door, stopped.
"It's just mister now your majesty," Christopher said, "I was let go when they realized my leg wasn't going to heal appropriately. Starjammers are over; too many of our men died in that last attack. "
Erik inclined his head.
"I thank you for the lives you've saved," he said, "Charles and I were hoping to have some sort of ceremony to reward you."
"Just let me live here with my family," Christopher said, "I think this might be a blessing in disguise. I want my sons to grow up knowing who I am after all."
Beside him Erik hesitated.
"That is granted," he said, "but nonetheless, Genosha is grateful."
"And so am I," Christopher said, "My children are safe here."
Pushing his wheelchair forwards he completed the journey out of the room. Moira and Levine followed them. Trying to be discreet Charles watched as Moira left the room. He thought he saw her look back at him as she travelled. Like so much with the two of them though, he couldn't be sure.
Behind them Neena laid a hand on Azazel's shoulder. He teleported them out of the room. Once they were gone Erik turned to him.
"We're fighting mutants now," said Erik, "The pieces on the chessboard keep changing, don't they?"
"Sometimes I'm not even sure it's chess anymore," sighed Charles.
There was a brief pause.
"Charles, who is this Cain?"
Charles winced. He had been expecting some sort of post-briefing between himself and his friend, he just hadn't expected it to be on that topic.
"I told you-" he began.
"Spare me the lies," Erik said, "You can't fool me. And MacTaggert wasn't convinced either."
He looked away. His friend had several choice words about his choice of a love and few were positive. While Erik liked Moira as a person, her position as Rahne's mother had endeared her to him somewhat, the idea of a CIA agent with his country's Prime Minister was a hard one to swallow. For the most part he was silent on the subject though, something that Charles was infinitely grateful for. The last thing he needed was to be told off for something that wasn't even happening.
"So who is Cain?" asked Erik.
He closed his eyes.
"He's my stepbrother."
Because his eyes were closed Charles felt, rather than saw, Erik's shock.
"You…you never mentioned him."
"No, because it's likely that him and his father reported on Raven and I," said Charles, his eyes opening, "And when I say he was a bully I mean that he tried to make Raven and I's lives a living hell. My stepfather sent him after us when we ran away to bring us back, turn us in."
"God," Erik said,
"There was…an altercation in New York City," Charles said, "I won, but I didn't think I would see him again afterwards. At least, I hoped I wouldn't."
He paused.
"I'm going to have to tell Raven about this. I'm not looking forward to that task," he said, "It was hard for her; she was very young when things…got out of hand. If I hadn't had my powers at that point…"
His words trailed off. It wasn't a sentence he could complete.
"I'm sorry Charles," Erik said, "I didn't know."
"It's better that way," said Charles, "I don't know why he's with these people. Honestly I don't care. It's…hard in a way I suppose. I don't have many links to the lives that I had before all of this happened. But…"
Charles sighed.
"I can't say that we were close," he said, "Nor did we like each other. He does seem the type who would sell out his own kind."
Erik shook his head.
"Mutant against mutant," he said, "Why?"
"Despite what many Genoshans seem to think we're just humans with a few add-ons," said Charles, "And humans have been trying to kill other humans for centuries."
Slowly Erik pulled back at his sleeve. It exposed his forearm where the numbers were tattooed, numbers that hadn't faded with age.
"I haven't forgotten Charles," Erik said, his voice quiet without the merest whisper of reproach, "You're right; it's nothing new."