Meanwhile, at CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia…
At the end of a medium-sized table, Charles Xavier stood slightly beside, and slightly in front of a projector screen. The corded remote on the slide projector provided him with just enough space to barely be out of the way of the projection.
"As everyone present should already be aware," He began, pressing through to the first slide, a World War II propaganda poster of the Howling Commandos. "Individuals with extraordinary abilities are already among us, and some of them even work for the United States government. I assume we're all familiar with Captain Steven G. Rogers, AKA Captain America. Captain Diana P. Rogers, AKA Wonder Woman. Sergeant James H. Logan, AKA The Wolverine, Victor Creedence Logan, AKA Sabertooth, General Nicholas J. Fury, and Alexei Lebedev, AKA The Red Guardian, deceased."
Xavier turned to the bored-looking CIA staff. The one at the head of the party was Director McCone. To his left, was a man named William Stryker Sr., as his badge identified him. Behind them, was a large man in wide glasses. His badge identified him as Frederick A. Duncan.
"However," He said with a sly grin. "I didn't come here to give you a history lesson. These are merely examples to establish a baseline. Given the advent of the nuclear age, and an existing propensity for… Unusual developments in human mutation, it is entirely possible for the mutation process to have been accelerated, and exaggerated, and given the recent uptick in recorded superhuman mutations, Agent McTaggert's findings are not only within the realm of possibility, but entirely likely. Messrs Logan and Mrs. Rogers were all, apparently, born with their powers, and they're not the last to be, by any means."
Xavier flipped the slide further, to show a young man with dirty blonde hair in US Army fatigues.
"First Lieutenant Alexander Summers," Xavier continued. "United States Army. According to his file, his unit was ambushed in Vietnam while aiding flood relief workers, and Vietcong forces slaughtered the lot of them… Except for him. After the incident, Army Medics said that the only survivor of the guerrilla ambush had gone grey from the experience, and that it appeared that Summers had rained down pure havoc upon his men's murderers."
Xavier flicked to a slide of the destruction allegedly caused by Summers. An army Corporal stood beside a large tree, which appeared to have been cut cleanly, and burned in the process.
"Summers described the experience as though his very rage conjured pure plasma from his chest, and he whipped what he called the 'discs' at everywhere he saw or heard bullets come from, in the process, leveling two and a half square miles of foliage."
Xavier flipped the slides again, this time to a young man with fluffy brown hair.
"Sean Cassidy was once a promising member of his school choir, until he hit a note so loud and so high that he shattered every window on school grounds, and caused a bout of partial deafness which lasted for literally months."
Xavier flicked through pictures of the destruction, and then to a silhouetted image with a question mark superimposed over the face.
"I can continue, if you so desire, but if you find these examples adequate, feel free to ask any questions you may have."
CIA Director John A. McCone sat across the table from the projection screen where Xavier still stood. He contemplated what the professor had said… And he didn't like the conclusions he was coming to.
"Professor Xavier," McCone said as he looked over his glasses at the packet of information Xavier had handed him. "You've made some… Incredible claims, for lack of a better word. Not that they inherently lack credibility, it's just that they're difficult to believe. Despite my misgivings, your qualifications speak for themselves. When McTaggert dragged me in here, I was under the impression you were some crackpot scientist, not an accredited, published Oxford professor."
Xavier nodded in response.
"Thank you for the consideration." He replied. "I've done my utmost to only make claims based on verifiable research."
McCone took off his glasses, and nodded at Xavier, motioning for him to be quiet.
"Yes, and we appreciate your findings, Professor." McCone replied. "However, correct me if I'm wrong, but there's never been a documented case of real shape-shifting, or of a man who can… Transport himself or others in the blink of an eye, correct?"
Charles and Raven exchanged an uneasy glance.
"And," McCone continued. "If the ability to broadcast thoughts into minds was possible…" McCone hesitated, as he considered the implications of what he was about to say. "I'm certain the CIA would know about it by now."
A smile crossed Charles' face, as the details of various secret CIA programs flooded into his mind as McCone attempted not to think about them. He too, considered the implications of what he was about to say… He shot his adopted sister another look. A question was passed between the two of them, and she merely nodded in response.
"I suppose MK Ultra must be your version of a pink elephant." Charles said casually. "Try not to think about it, and even more details flood out into your mind. I don't suppose the public would be particularly happy to know that you'd brought over the people they shed blood sweat and tears to defeat to torture your own citizens, would they? I understand that the Soviets were after them as well, but did Operation Paperclip really have to result in former Nazis dosing Americans with Mescaline and attempting to broadcast mind control beams that simply melted people's brains?"
The collective eyebrows of every individual in the room, save for Raven, shot up in disbelief as Xavier rattled off facts and details that he shouldn't have known.
"I'm sorry, love." He said with a nod to Moira. "But, as you may be able to deduce, I haven't been entirely honest with you."
McCone gritted his teeth, and shook his head as Xavier leaned forward, placed one elbow on the table, and the tips of his two fingers on his temple.
Big deal. He thought. Some genetics freak is a conspiracy nut, too. So what if he thinks he knows that? I'm not going to be the one to prove-"
"Big deal. Some genetics freak is a conspiracy nut, too. So what if he thinks he knows that? I'm not going to be the one to prove him right." Xavier repeated as McCone thought the words. "I suppose you're correct about the 'freak' part, as I have… Ample mental abilities, shall we say, which allow me to read minds, yours included. Maybe I should have been more specific. I could have delved a bit deeper, looking for something that wasn't bubbling just outside the overton window. Perhaps I should have asked about the Jupiter Missiles you plan to place in Turkey instead. You know, I would have sworn there were better ideas on the table."
McCone started at the echo of his thoughts back at him from Xavier's mouth. Word for word, without pause, without even so much as a slip of a syllable.
"How the hell did you do that?" He demanded.
"Oh please." Stryker interjected. "I've seen this kind of trick before at a magic show, it's called 'mentalism.' You get good at reading a person's appearance and emotions, and if you combine that with stolen information, like the kind someone like McTaggert could get him by sweet-talkin' the right guy, you can look like you're a mind reader. It's just a couple of con-artists trying to rip off Uncle Sam, or maybe a couple of spies!"
Xavier sighed heavily, and nodded to Raven, who stood up from her chair, and, as a flicker of blue washed over her skin and clothing, transformed from her crimson-haired, feminine form, into a taller, older, more masculine form. That of Agent Stryker, who sat across the table from her.
Once more, a wave of disbelief washed over everyone at the table, save for Xavier, as the jaws of every individual in the room dropped open.
Raven, as Stryker, stepped closer to her step-brother, and transformed again. Back to herself… Or rather, her blue self, complete with her original clothing.
Charles smirked.
"How's that for a magic trick?" He asked smugly.
A large man with glasses, who'd been sitting behind McCone and Stryker up until now, unlike the others, looked earnestly impressed by Raven's shapeshifting.
"That's the best I've ever seen!" He exclaimed as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
McCone took a slow, deep breath before speaking.
"Alright." He began. "Let's assume, for a second, that this is… Exactly as it seems, that there's nothing more here than meets the eye. What the hell am I supposed to do with you two now?! You can't just go poking around in people's heads looking for information!"
"Believe me, director, I could have gone my entire life without knowing the things you get up to on the job." Charles replied. "However, as your mind was practically leaking with secret information, I merely tapped the fullest reservoir for the quickest results. And, given your agency's propensity for violating your own nation's constitution via Operation Mockingbird, I wouldn't do any grandstanding about privacy if I were you, especially since you ordered your men to violate the Fourth Amendment in the execution of their duties."
Shit. McCone thought.
"Okay, so what the hell are we doing?" McCone asked. "Seems like you hold all the cards. Are you planning to do anything with the information you've pulled from my mind?"
Charles shrugged.
"I suppose that depends on what you mean." He replied. "I'd be stupid to say 'Oh yes, I'm going straight to the Daily Planet or The Daily Bugle with this information,' directly to your faces, but I could also simply walk out of here and leave you none the wiser that myself or my sister were ever here, or that you had an appointment with me arranged by Agent McTaggart at this time. Who's to say I haven't done that already? Who's to say we're not on the fourth, or fifth variation of this conversation already? You'd never know, and if I wanted to, they'd never know either."
That's more than a bit unsettling. McCone thought.
"Good." Xavier replied. "Now, what I'm asking for, perhaps a bit contrary to where we are, and who you are, is a bit of trust. I've lived in America for many years. My parents have made myself, my sister and my brother a home here. I have no desire for any harm to come to this great nation, and, despite the dubious nature of a great many of your actions, I know that you harbor the same desires, Director McCone. Now that you know that what Agent McTaggert said happened was possible, I'd like to open up a world of further possibilities and study."
"I have an off-site facility." The large bespectacled man interjected. "Hello, professor!" He said with a wave. "My name is Fred Duncan, but you uh, probably already knew that. With Director McCone's permission, I could offer you our resources at the facility. I already have a bright young man working there on mutant studies, a Doctor Henry P. McCoy."
"If we can get your non-disclosure in writing," McCone said, fiddling with a pen in his hands. "I suppose we can accommodate you. Now that's out of the way… You had something to prove about Sebastian Shaw."
"Indeed." Xavier replied. "Agent McTaggert had a lead on Shaw she wished to follow up on. In her mind, I saw Russian documents about some sort of… Armor, so to speak, they'd promised to provide him with. And, before you ask, she told me about the documents before I looked at them in her mind. There were also files on President Kennedy's cabinet, and the Howling Commandos, which appeared to have been taken from another agency. If he is receiving information and arms from the Kremlin, it might beseech us to point the United States Coast Guard towards his personal vessel, which my sister and I have taken the liberty of investigating. It's a yacht berthed in Miami, known as The Caspartina."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
When we were typing up this chapter, Alex accidentally spelled "Daily Bugle" as "Daily Buble." And immediately cried out "Why does Michael Bublé get his own newspaper?" then changed it.
Also, The Man in Black, who was never properly identified in X-Men First Class has been remade into the character he was somewhat based on, just for the sake of him having a name to be addressed by, Fred Duncan.
Additionally, when we were writing this chapter, Alex was just going to reference the CIA spying on Americans generally as sort of a reference to modern surveillance culture, but, as it turns out, John McCone actually carried out the orders for warrantless wiretapping in the months BEFORE the Cuban Missile Crisis IRL, so we went ahead and referenced Operation Mockingbird directly, and the rest of the dialogue in the scene sort of spun out from there, creatively.