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FIC: X-Book 1 New Allies New Enemies, PG-13, Chpt 19

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  • Kathleen
    X-Book 1: New Allies New Enemies - Chapter 19 - Interlude 2 Rating: PG-13 By: Kath713/Leen713 Summary: (See Book 1: Prologue) Disclaimer: I own nothing
    Message 1 of 1 , Jan 11, 2004
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      X-Book 1: New Allies New Enemies - Chapter 19 - Interlude 2

      Rating: PG-13

      By: Kath713/Leen713

      Summary: (See Book 1: Prologue)

      Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with characters from the Marvel
      universe or any previously published work.

      ***

      Chapter Nineteen:

      INTERLUDE Two

      Oxford, England

      In a quaint and well-kept cobblestone building off High Street, near
      Magdalen College, Quintin Travers sat in a tall leather chair in his
      dimly lit office, reading the morning paper by a large multi-paned
      window. The early morning light streamed past the open curtains,
      throwing long shadows over the top of a massive cherry-wood desk.

      The walls were lined with bookcases, each shelf filled with
      innumerable volumes, ranging from recent publications on philosophy
      and sciences to ancient texts dealing with religion and mythology.
      A colorful tapestry depicting ancient Rome hung above a large
      fireplace, the mantle of dark, polished stone covered by a variety
      of antiques and one quietly ticking clock.

      Travers picked up a small cup from the desk and sipped at the strong
      coffee as his eyes scanned the newsprint. The articles were of
      local interest, nothing that would have been of dramatic consequence
      to the rest of the world, but Travers had lived in the area for
      nearly forty years, and still liked to keep up on the local gossip.

      He had not been born in England, but had adapted to his life there
      easily, the land and people being more of his temperament than a
      bustling American city. Now, as he was approaching the age of
      sixty, he better appreciated these private, relaxing moments in the
      face of his regular daily responsibilities…most of which stood in
      stark contrast to this momentary façade of tranquility.

      A light knock on the office door stirred him from his thoughts. He
      smiled warmly as a gray-haired woman in a long simple dress pushed
      the door open and glanced inside. The smile was genuine, but the
      warmth did not touch his eyes.

      "Good morning, Mr. Travers," she asked, "Am I
      intruding?"

      "Of course not, Sharon," he replied, "Please come
      in…have you just arrived?"

      "Yes, sir," she said with a polite nod, "I just wanted to
      bring you your messages from last night before I began my own work
      for the day. Seems like it was a quiet night, only two phone calls
      and one courier letter…"

      "Ah, thank you," Travers said, and then added with a wry
      grin, "Let's hope this trend continues…maybe I can put in
      for an early retirement."

      "The day you retire, sir," Sharon replied smartly before she
      left the room, "Is the day I dance The Dutch's Waltz in
      Buckingham Palace."

      Travers laughed at the old woman's dry wit. She had passed him
      several slips of paper, all marked URGENT. Each brief, typed letter
      had been delivered via fax from a late working student who manned
      the main phones at the Council's offices after dark. The job
      itself was quite dull (unless there was a crisis) but most of those
      training with the Council jumped at the chance, as the position also
      had developed a rather prestigious, if not infamous, reputation.

      The night was the most perilous time for Council members, in any
      part of the world, due to their special and strange fields of
      study. And, while they did not typically interfere with their
      subjects, there was still a danger in the simple act of Watching,
      especially when those being watched did not approve.

      Quintin Travers had been a Watcher of paranormal activity around the
      globe for over half a century, his studies initiated at a very young
      age, following the tradition of his family. Over the decades, he
      had earned the distinction of being a Council leader and it was now
      his duty to monitor all their concerns, from overseeing their most
      ancient laws to addressing any new issues with Council Houses on six
      continents.

      In his half century of service, only one major issue had a lasting
      effect on Council policy, and that was the mutant phenomenon. Since
      the discovery of the mutant gene, the decision on how to address the
      existence of mutants within the Council's laws had been a matter
      of debate.

      Mutants defied all previous classifications of beings, since they
      were not truly paranormal in nature yet often times possessed gifts
      of incredible power beyond scientific explanation. They were not
      demons or sorcerers or any kind of creature that gained their powers
      through aberrant means. Mutants were essentially human beings whose
      bodies had adapted to genetic changes caused by the extra part of
      their DNA.

      Therefore, the Council had reached a stalemate. Their legacy
      demanded they monitor any dark and evil forces and train those
      gifted with paranormal powers how to protect the unsuspecting
      populace of the world from destruction. But did their duty also
      apply to mutants, who were not a paranormal phenomenon, but a
      natural evolutionary branch of humanity?

      To Travers, the debate was dead, a non-issue that had existed in a
      limbo of indecision for decades, which he had thankfully been able
      to ignore for most of his time as a Council leader. The dangers
      that may or may not be presented by mutants had been secondary
      compared to the threat of unnatural creatures arising in the most
      western states of America, a problem that was currently well managed
      by a particular Watcher and his ward.

      However, as Travers read the last note that had been received this
      morning from the Council's main offices, he knew he may finally
      have to confront the mutant issue head on. He planned to address it
      to one mutant in particular, a colleague from the past, who had
      built his own sanctuary for those with strange gifts.

      It read:

      To Q.T., Oxford, England

      217 has been identified by Xavier. We believe they have arrived in
      Westchester.

      Council advisement has been requested by Watcher in Arizona. Shall
      we dispatch a team to New York? Please reply immediately as
      probability of discovery is high. We await your instructions.

      -- N.H., Buffalo, New York, USA


      Travers sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. This
      had been something he had been dreading for twenty years.

      "Charles…" he said, and tapped his fingers on the desk
      rhythmically.

      After a moment, he pushed a call button on his phone, and gave one
      of the Council assistants orders to prepare for his immediate
      departure to the United States. He also gave them a short message
      to send to both Buffalo and Arizona.

      To N.H. and M.D.

      Council team dispatched from England.
      Maintain positions.
      Await further instructions.
      -- Q.T.

      ***
      Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713
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