Moira was not ashamed of her actions. She had done right by herself, and in a way by her country. It never said in the Constitution that they should quit doing what they knew was right, that they should lie. She had sworn the oath to the Constitution; not the President, not the government, and she damn well hadn't sworn it to McCone. She'd sworn to protect her country and the ideals it stood for. And if that meant leaving the CIA then breaking into it later at night, then she supposed she would have to do it.

The plan hadn't been constructed immediately after she left. It had only been once she was back at her desk, packing everything up and filling out a few final forms, that she had thought about it. In her mind there was no doubt that Stryker was behind the halting of the investigation. Proof, however, was in short supply.

They had taken out all of the leaders of the MRD, all except him and Craig. Craig was small fry compared to him though. If she could somehow discredit him then it would just be a matter of liberating those centers. That was fairly easy. She could just tell Charles about them. It might be immoral, but she would rather have betrayed the confidence of the CIA then have thousands of ruined lives on her conscience.

No, the actual liberation wouldn't be a problem. Christopher Summers was on Genosha now. He might not be able to fight, but he had experience and would certainly be called on to train the strike force that would free the captured mutants. As usual everything came down to the paperwork. The real difficulty was getting to Stryker, now that it became apparent that McCone was in his pocket.

So she'd cleaned out the small, impersonal room where she had kept her things, wondering about her next course of action. It wasn't like she had anything to take to anyone besides her suspicions. She sat there, trying to figure out what to do next. Her mind went to McCone's desk and what might be in it. Hence her plan to break into the office and riffle through her former superior's papers formed.

She was sure that what she was about to do was treason, at least in the academical sense. Moira was also sure that if she was caught, she would most likely be executed. Some people might find that arcane, but she was well aware of the consequences of her actions. There were other risks too, but Moira couldn't worry about them. When she had seen a goal she drove at it with a single-minded determination.

Moira turned in her things and put her bags in her car. She drove several miles away and checked into a hotel on the first floor under a false name. Once she'd deposited her things she'd opened the window and left. She didn't think anyone was watching her, but she wasn't about to do stupid things under a sense of false security. And in its own way, what she was about to do was very stupid indeed.

Then she rode the bus and walked back to the center. At neither time did she feel comfortable. The weather was getting worse even if it was a short distance. It was a difficult task in the snow, but she couldn't have anyone following her car. By the time she got back to headquarters the snow had soaked her through.

Luckily she'd anticipated and brought a change of shoes, as well as clothes, inside of her briefcase. She couldn't drip puddles all over the floor. The gloves she changed would have to serve to remove her fingerprints from his office, once she got in. The building wasn't closed up yet, but it was close enough to quitting time that few people would be paying much attention to anyone coming in. It was what she was counting on.

Once inside she managed not to run into anyone. She'd managed to get past the security cameras and moved into the bathrooms. Inside a stall she changed quickly, throwing her sodden clothes into her briefcase. She knew she had to look like she was going home soon. Many of the people were, and she wasn't known well-enough around the office to be instantly recognized. She didn't encounter anyone in the office

She pulled her hair in front of her face and brushed it through. Instead of her normal outfit she wore a skirt and a white blouse. Moira put her hair up and stared into the mirror. It was the outfit of a secretary, the girls that no one paid attention to unless they needed something. So, trying to look as though she still belonged, she made her way over to McCone's office.

He had checked out for the night, like he'd always done. McCone had always liked to sneak out of the office early. Taking a deep breath she avoided the security cameras, timing her entrance and exits perfectly. The hall with McCone's office in it didn't have one and she counted herself lucky for that blessing.

When she got there there were two people in the hall. She waited for them to leave before she proceeded. The door was locked, but she hadn't expected otherwise. Moira knew how to pick locks. It was part of her training, probably something they hadn't dreamed would be used against them. She didn't blame them.

Once inside she went through his files, her gloved hands moving quickly. No one had noticed anything unusual, but she didn't know how much time she had. At first she found nothing. They were just the usual reports and she averted her eyes. She wasn't there to steal top secret information. She was just there to find out about Stryker.

After ten minutes she hit the jackpot. A list of meetings between Stryker and McCone was listed. She flicked through the transcripts, her rage mounting. None of the information was new, she had certainly suspected it. However, it was enough to make her angry that she had ever respected her boss.

Going even further she found tapes that corroborated with the transcripts. Her anger burned even further. He had tape recorded these meetings? Why? Official meetings had to be tape recorded, it was part of protocol. Moira even had her own tape recorder for the few conversations she'd had with the Genoshans, the ones they had allowed anyway. That was hush-hush and they still needed a record of it.

This wasn't official. Their words made it very clear that it wasn't. And then he'd left them out in the open. Well, his desk, but it certainly wasn't secure if she could get into it. Moira shook her head, her lips pursing in disapproval. She'd never been tempted into wrong-doing beyond her current activities, but taping it seemed to be the stupidest way to do it. The sheer arrogance of the action made her head spin.

Silently she'd slipped them into her briefcase. Making sure that everything was as she'd left it she left the room. On her way out she changed again, putting her big coat back on. Moira hurried back out into the night, taking the same route back to her hotel. Her heart pounded the entire time, but things went smoothly.

Once at her hotel she got into her car and started driving. They couldn't prove that she had been there that night. They had no proof. Surely they would suspect, but there would be nothing they could hold her to. They would be forced to look at her with suspicion like she'd looked at Stryker with suspicion. There was some sort of delicious irony in that.

Now that she had her evidence though, there was only one place that she could go. Since she was no longer an agent she couldn't turn it in. She couldn't even turn it in if she was. It was illegally obtained evidence. However, she could use an intermediary. Moira didn't want to put Levine in danger, but he was the only one she could trust. Besides, he was much smarter than people gave him credit for. He'd know what to do.

He could never know where it came from. Doubtless he would figure it out, but there could never be any kind of acknowledgement. She parked her car a few blocks from his house, wrapping the documents in a clear plastic bag to protect them from the elements. She'd hastily written a note explaining that it was from an anonymous source, putting great pains into disguising her handwriting.

Putting the documents under her coat she trudged up to his house. From the lights she could tell that he was inside. She smiled fondly at the silhouette. He'd been a good friend, and a good partner. They shared a thousand memories together, and it had been their work that had brought them to where they were now.

The memory of her first day at the CIA came to mind. Had it really only been five years ago? Had she really ever been so ignorant of the world? She'd remembered some foolish ideas about how the world worked, ideas that had been whittled down. Sometimes she'd had to let go of them to help her dreams though.

Levine had defended her from the office jerks in his regular solid way. At first it had just been out of politeness. A friendship had tentatively formed, Moira too suspicious of her co-workers to fully trust his behavior. She might have had foolish ideas, but she wasn't naïve. She was glad that she had taken the chance.

He moved away from the window. She wondered if maybe she should drop in and say something to him before leaving the package. Moira had never said goodbye to him before leaving. No, it would be too dangerous for them both. He wasn't the best liar. He had to be able to honestly say that he hadn't seen her around his house. It really was better that way.

Smashing the snow to disguise her footprints she left the package at the front door. Taking a deep breath Moira rang the doorbell. As soon as her finger pushed it in she began running. She jumped the wall that led to the house next door and crouched behind it. Still breathing heavily she peeked over the wall.

Levine was standing outside of his house in his pajamas, the package in his hands. He stared forward, swallowing. She saw him close his eyes and shut the door behind him. So he knew not to look. She had never doubted him. Moira just hoped that she would see him again before she left for Genosha.

It really was the only option left for her. The one thing that had been keeping her in the United States was her job and the knowledge that she had to do her duty. Now that it was gone there was only her daughter to think of. Her daughter would only be safe in Genosha, especially with the likes of McCone and Stryker out there. Rahne needed her, and she wouldn't leave her when she could be with her.

Getting up she marched down the street to her car. Once she started driving again she let other thoughts creep in. Getting to Genosha would be somewhat difficult. Since Genosha hadn't been formally announced there were no flights or boats that could take her there. The only flights that were booked were ones for the embassy.

She would have to go there if she wanted to get to Genosha. Moira didn't mind asking them for a favor, and she knew they wouldn't mind taking her back to her daughter. Her mind automatically went to Charles. She wondered how he would react to the news that she was off the case. It didn't matter really. What mattered was his reaction to her coming to Genosha.

Moira knew that he would be happy. However, what would they do once she got there? What they had had never been spoken, not really. Although she didn't doubt his feelings she felt only cautiously optimistic. Things would be in their way when they got there. She might not be CIA anymore but she was still a foreign human and he was a mutant in a position of power. How would the populace react to that?

With a deep sigh she shook of the questions. One way or another she knew she would be going to Genosha. It was the only place she could go and the only thing left for her to do. One way or another she would be with her daughter. Rahne needed her. One way or another she would continue her work. They would trust her enough to help them hunt down the MRD. And one way or another Charles and she would be together. He wanted it just as much as she did, she knew that.

It was just the way that things were going to go. How well they would go was a completely different question, and one that would be answered in time. It certainly couldn't be answered by her as she drove through the icy streets. Moira needed to work on having all of the things she wanted happen before she worried about what other people thought.

With a grimace she realized that she didn't give a damn what other people thought. If she had she'd have stayed in McCone's office and succumbed. Or maybe that it wasn't other people's opinions that didn't matter, just most of them. She set her face and pulled into the hotel parking lot.

Moira slammed the door behind her. She climbed back into her hotel by the window, locking it behind her. All of the snow she'd been tramping through had left her soaked and cold. She turned on a hot shower, peeling away her clothes and stepping under the stream. It felt like heaven was seeping into her veins.

When she finally did get out she wrapped a towel around herself and fumbled in her luggage for a nightgown. She finally pulled out a black cotton nightdress. It wasn't appropriate to the weather, but it was the first thing she could find. Moira changed into it and went over to the hotel's phone.

Rummaging around a little further she found her notebook with her contact information in it. Moira dialed the Genoshan embassy, cradling the phone against her neck while she waited for it to ring. She'd journey up there in the morning. The storm was getting bad outside and she was too exhausted to venture out.

"This is the Genoshan Embassy," a gruff voice said, "And it had better be good."

Moira had to chuckle. Whose bright idea had it been to have Logan answer the phones?

"It's Moira MacTaggert Logan," she said, amused.

On the other end of the phone she heard him shift.

"Sorry; long night."

"I can imagine," she said, "I hope Kayla is doing well."

"She's fine," Logan said, "Little sick right now."

"Really?" asked Moira, "She alright?"

There was a disconcerted shifting on the other end. Moira raised an eyebrow. This would be interesting. She'd have to get in contact with her friend after she got back.

"Yeah, she's fine."

"Glad to hear that," said Moira.

There was more shifting on the other end.

"Where you at?"

"Hm. I assume that question means you know about the change in my employment status," she said, knowing how strained her voice was.

"Yeah…I did."

"Well, I'm at 118 Watershore Avenue at the Springside Hotel. But I'd like to get to Genosha," she said, "As soon as possible. I'd go tonight if I could, but I don't think it would be feasible. Would it be alright?"

"'course," he grunted, "Chuck and his sister are flyin' out tomorrow. That good for you?"

"I haven't got anything else going on," Moira said.

There was another pause and Logan sighed.

"You…we all just wanted you to know-"

Whatever it was he was going to say was drowned out by the sound of shattering glass. Moira whipped around, the phone still against her neck.

"Moira?" demanded Logan, "What was that?"

She went to answer but arms ripped the phone from her, throwing it on the floor. She yelled, more out of instinct than thinking it would do any good. Her foot lashed out, kicking her assailant in the stomach. He dropped her and she moved for the door, only having it splinter and open inwards.

For a moment Moira found herself staring at dark brown eyes, etched with a mixture of amusement and anger. A scar ran from his left eye to his cheek and he reached for her. She maneuvered around him, only to have him grab her arm. Pain shot through her and she kicked again. He made a face and threw her to the floor, hitting her head on the wall in the process.

"Bitch can fight, can't she?"

It was the last thing she heard before losing consciousness.