#I still don't know if that was a strange plane or a satellite

[oneleggedflamingo]

I went to look for the comet again because it is pretty clear here, I didn't spot it yet but I saw some satellites/planes going across the sky like water striders or a fish trying to avoid a predator or the movement of the lure in flyfishing, and I got a bit creeped out by that because I regulary see dreams about air raids so I was like yeesh I want to sleep tonight. And then I thought how creeped out/in awe the people 80 000 years ago must have been when they saw that comet? And did they describe its shape and movement like I described the weird light in the sky moving like a specific bug or an animal? When they saw it the first night and communicated with their family members who didn't see it, what did they say?

[biblioflyer]

Rogue v Cap: Outside vs Inside Power

Its rare for any incarnation of the X-Men to not have incredibly smart things to say about bigotry, authority, organizing, and power, but X-Men '97 is killing it.

However, I think people who are too quick to get behind Rogue or are offended on Captain America's behalf are missing out on just how sophisticated '97's understanding of power and authority is.

Lets get this out of the way: I take a "yes, and" stance on power and social organizing.

I think its incredibly difficult to holistically understand movements and declare this "helped" the cause and that "hurt" the cause. It all depends on how you calibrate your rubric for success and how you understand how influential a person, group, or action really was.

What I see in the X-Men in all incarnations are some of the most iconic and thorniest debates about inside or institutional power vs outside, autonomous organizing and power, about assimilation or separatism.

Reasonable people recognize these are highly contingent arguments without clear, unambiguous or ethically pure answers.

Which is a rich meal for an ethics nerd like myself and I am having the most amazing time watching and thinking about X-Men '97 and the issues it raises.

So lets get into this!

Spoilers for X-Men '97 episode 7 "Bright Eyes"

Rogue's encounter with Captain America on the hunt for Bolivar Trask, inventor of the Sentinels, is probably the most commented on and debated scene on my social media feeds (as of this writing.)

Those who take Rogue's side in the exchange of words and that epic Frisbee hurl make very familiar and painful arguments. The system Captain America represents and Captain America himself have consistently let mutants down. Where were the Avengers when Genosha burned?

Which is a damn good question considering there are multiple Avengers and Avengers adjacent characters who are confirmed as existing in Earth 92131 who could conceivably have been able to learn about the attack in near real time and react in real time. Thor is very likely to have been tipped off by the likes of Heimdal or other mystical means and can cross continental distances in moments. Doctor Strange likewise could portal over the moment he found out about it, along with anyone else he could rustle up.

SHIELD and essentially any other entity with orbital surveillance would likely have learned about the attack the moment their satellites overflew Genosha. Given the world's jitters over Genosha, I'm having a hard time believing Genosha wasn't being monitored around the clock. However, knowledge doesn't translate into the ability to respond faster than a Quinjet can reach the island.

Now there's an unsatisfying Watsonian explanation here in the form that this is a common trope: all of the world's heroes are somehow busy or ignorant when really big stuff is going down. The Doylist lens would remind us that this is endemic to superhero stories and kind of required for suspense, except when its time to do the big team up story.

So if we want to be generous to Earth's Mightiest Heroes, "they didn't know or were busy or couldn't reach Genosha in time" is an explanation we can fall back on. Thor and Doctor Strange do have to sleep sometime and its not as if they don't have other responsibilities that take them off world or off this plane of existence. Most of the other superheroes known to exist in Earth-92131 could have an out in that they may not have had the means to become aware of the attack in real time or the means to reach Genosha before it was already over.

However, that's awful nitpicky. Rogue can be being unfair about the lack of an immediate response to Genosha while still having a valid point to make on a broader scale. Homo Sapiens Sapiens civilization more broadly would almost certainly, from Rogue's point of view, been holding the idiot ball or maliciously ignorant to miss out on a new army of Sentinels under construction including a big freaking Sentinel kaiju.

Of course we'd later find out that some handwavey deus ex may have also ensured that the world's electronic eyes were shut without any elaborate conspiracy, but Rogue doesn't know this yet when she's unloading on Cap. For all she knows, this is yet another in a long list of times where the "good" Homo Sapiens Sapiens and their champions have been unwilling or conveniently unable to intervene in personal scale tragedies like lynchings by the Friends of Humanity or population scale atrocities like permitting Genosha's former regime to run forced labor camps.

Baked into the setting assumptions of X-Men is a significant amount of systemic abuse that gets overlooked by non-mutant superheroes or that said superheroes are not powerful enough or imaginative enough to dismantle. This ends up necessitating a never ending set of excuses for how Earth's Mightiest Heroes keep winding up on the wrong side of justice yet can still claim the mantle of hero.

I'm not going to repeat ad nauseam familiar arguments about the suspension of disbelief problems created by widespread anti-mutant bigotry being a part of the same setting as a vast roster of enhanced individuals and literal gods that the general public lionizes without much hesitation. The savvy reader already knows these forwards and backwards, so I'm only going to continue to address them to the extent they're relevant here and refrain from further meta-commentary about this aspect of X-Men '97's world building.

Now to be fair, Captain America actually does give us an answer of sorts as to at least what he's up to and why he's not more ambitious in his pursuit of justice. He does intend to act, but not, from his perspective, impulsively. Captain America needs to obtain clearance to act across international boundaries. Captain America is in many ways governed by a sclerotic and often unjust system.

But wait! Captain America is a supersoldier, you say. Who gets to tell him "No, you don't get to pursue justice according to your conscience?" Cap should just tell his handlers to get stuffed and go settle accounts.

Notice my repetition of Steve's nom de spandex? Captain America is not a friendly neighborhood star spangled vigilante. Its unclear exactly who he is working for in this universe, but its heavily implied to be if not the United States, then perhaps SHIELD, and either way there are geopolitical considerations to Captain America showing up without phoning ahead and asking nicely if he can wander around without a minder, punching and exploding people and things on his own discretion. A whole lot of countries are justifiably sensitive about this sort of thing.

The point is that Steve Rogers is accountable to some sort of regulatory authority that is clearly meant to ensure that Captain America's activities are understood clearly and that he doesn't meet with an unfriendly reception by governmental actors that Steve would rather not be shooting at him and that Steve would prefer not to have to punch his way through on his way to his mission.

This authority likely has an additional role of at least performing for the masses and other governments that Captain America is being held to strict rules of engagement and that the bad guys he is punching are definitely villains plotting acts of violence not ideological enemies of the status quo. Because again, wanton violence for motives that are not clearly explained or are suspected of being fraudulent is a touchy subject.

Now of course, Steve Rogers could always go off the reservation. Its happened plenty of times in other continuities/universes. After all, the US government can't repo the super soldier serum.

What they can take away though is a lot of what allows Steve to be more than just a really strong guy. You know who is also a really strong guy? Bruce Banner. Also Luke Cage.

What do Bruce and Luke not have when they aren't playing on a team with some sort of direct or indirect government approval?

Extensive intelligence networks to direct them to international problems that need punching.

Supersonic jets to get them to places where there are villains who need to get decked.

People with relevant authorities who can work the phones and obtain permissions for a superhuman to engage in activities that may require a large scale disaster response operation and sending out surveyors afterwards to redraw topographical maps.

Why obtain those permissions? Because nations have armies and sometimes their own superhero teams they will send out if they get wind of a rogue superhuman showing up and doing violence without phoning ahead and clarifying their motives.

Special forces and super teams are a real inconvenience when there's wrongs to be righted on the other side of them.

So that's the bargain.

As Captain America, Steve Rogers gets an invisible army of intelligence operatives, pilots, Quinjet mechanics, and diplomats that all work together to ensure that Steve can do the maximum good when his conscience and the interests of his benefactors are aligned.

When he goes off reservation, he's just a really strong guy. Like Bruce Banner or Luke Cage. Not just a really strong guy, but probably a person of interest because authorities tend not to like their monopoly on violence being undermined by tough guys who are only accountable to the vibes of their conscience but can wreck New York's skyline if they're having a particularly bad day.

Which brings us back to Rogue and the X-Men.

The X-Men represent outside power.

Its heavily implied through any number of dialogues between the X-Men and the US President and the UN, the X-Men have some sort of understanding with legal authorities. However, its also implied that while this understanding exists, its begrudging. The X-Men have a wider latitude to act autonomously than the Avengers because they're specialists at what they do: they're intimately acquainted with some of the most dangerous, "Omega" level mutants who can be surly and embittered towards Homo Sapiens Sapiens.

Yet that latitude is both a gift and a curse.

The gift is the X-Men are essentially free to follow their consciences. Because the legal authorities have given the X-Men nothing much more than a blind eye towards their activities, the only thing the authorities can take away from the X-Men is that blind eye. The X-Men are a largely self sufficient operation, so there's no obvious card to play that is analogous to revoking Steve Rogers' legal identity as Captain America. The X-Men supply their own Blackbirds, no matter how many of them they lose, and largely generate their own sources and intelligence.

The X-Men also own their own mistakes, which is a mixed blessing. When Rogue goes on a grief fueled rampage, she's not liable to start World War 3. While she's technically an American citizen, its understood that she acts as her own agent, with no direct connections to the US government that could be interpreted as Rogue acting out the will of the US government.

Rather than retaliate, any foreign governments alarmed by Rogue's behavior are not likely to blame the US directly and are likely to lodge a complaint through official channels in the hopes that the US government will coax the X-Men into doing something about her or that Uncle Sam will try to take matters into its own hands. In other words, its understood that Rogue is America's problem but not its fault, at least not intentionally. Which is good enough to keep nuclear missiles from waving at one another as they pass one another in Earth orbit.

And that's essentially the contours of what the X-Men's outside power looks like.

The X-Men have incredible resources at their disposal by virtue of Xavier's seed money, the genius of Hank McCoy and others, and the allies they've cultivated like the Shi'ar, but everything they've built up they've had to bootstrap. They're free to follow their consciences but they're also at risk of running off the cliff and getting disavowed if they chase their consciences too far, too fast, too hard for the liking of the world's nations.

The Avengers, especially Steve Rogers, subordinate their consciences to higher authorities to a greater degree, but the trade is that when they do act, they can act with the knowledge that they're not going to have to deal with blue on blue conflict from confused and scared locals and with largely infinite resources. There is almost assuredly a limited supply of Blackbirds. There is a limited supply of Blackbirds right? The number of Quinjets available to the Avengers is only limited by the budget afforded to them by SHIELD or Tony Stark.

Speaking of Tony Stark, depending on which universe and what time period we're talking about, he is not necessarily a backup plan for an Avengers team that finds its consciences misaligned with the interests of SHIELD. Not just because he might not feel like being their sugar daddy, but also because Tony Stark is ultimately a businessman. Ironman may be challenging for the world's authorities to reign in if he's in a bad mood, but Tony Stark has financial assets that can be frozen and capital assets that can be seized.

Let's not forget that when Steve Rogers decided he was done asking for permission to do what he felt was right in the MCU, he was only able to continue superheroing at the same level he had previously because a secretive nation with a friendly monarch was willing to provide him with a jet and supplies so long as they approved of his goals and methods.

Thus the X-Men enjoy greater freedom of conscience but its much more precarious than Captain America's compromised freedom.

This is not a value judgment, just an observation.

And if I made the case for Captain America playing by the rules a little too well, then its probably because Earth 92131 Steve Rogers doesn't seem to have been gaslit into being the hatchetman for corrupt ends.

Yet.

One could also imagine that SHIELD or USGOV have also failed to tip Cap off about mutant related this, that, or the other that Steve might have OPINIONS about and feel strongly that some Homo Sapiens Sapiens supremacists are need of punching in a time and place that is super inconvenient for the authorities.

Because sometimes injustice isn't about what authority does, its about what it doesn't do: malign neglect and so forth.

[skymaiden32]

Toxicity

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @janetm74 @thundergeek59 (Don't be afraid to ask if you'd like to be added ^^)

Wow, it's been a hot minute since I updated this...

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Alan absentmindedly stroked his bearded dragon, as the lizard clinged to his shirt. Draco looked at his owner with a surprisingly understanding look. The blond chuckled, picking his pet up and returning him to his enclosure. Draco stayed still for a moment before darting over towards his basking area. Alan’s smile grew. Trust his reptiles to cheer him up. He reached for the mouse that had been thawing for his snake Petunia, which the python gratefully took.

The youngest brother sighed. He may be slowly recovering, but he wasn’t quite well enough to fully join the search yet. He had wanted to, stars above he wanted to help, but his father and Virgil had been adamant that he wait a bit longer. So now, here he was, stuck in his room. He groaned as he fell backwards onto his bed, watching Petunia eat her meal.

John would be back home soon. Virgil and Gordon had taken Thunderbird 3 up to the satellite, leaving Alan without any brothers to talk to until they got back. He had been up on Thunderbird 5 alone before, but this was different. He felt truly alone at that moment, and the wait to join them in the search for Scott was killing him. He held back tears, wanting nothing more than to hug his big brother.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his despair, and he quickly wiped back the few tears that had escaped, sitting up against his bed frame. “Come on in.” The door swung open, revealing the woman he loved. Tin-Tin gave him a gentle smile.

“Thunderbird 3 is on final approach now. Once John gets settled, Brains and I are going to work on that crab.” She sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. “We’ll find him, Alan. Just you wait and see.” Alan smiled back at Tin-Tin, who looked close to crying herself. The blond quickly returned the favour, hugging his girlfriend tight.

“I know we will.” He sighed. “It’s just I’d rather be finding him with you.” Tin-Tin huffed amusedly.

“And you will be. Just a bit longer.” She smiled knowingly.

------

The lab was buzzing with activity. Brains, at the centre of the room with Tin-Tin, carefully analysed every single part of the crab’s mechanics, trying to decipher where in the world it could possibly have been manufactured. It had to turn up something. Anything would do; it was the only lead they had.

On one side of the room, John’s fingers flew across the keyboard of his laptop, trying to locate Scott’s plane. So far, he was having no such luck, but it was clear from the determined look on his face that he wasn’t giving up on that particular avenue any time soon. On the other side, Gordon was spreading the word among his contacts from his WASP days. The submarine service covered every part of the world’s known oceans, and even some land. If anything involving Scott happened in the big blue, he’d know about it.

As for the land portion of the search, Jeff had called upon each and every agent International Rescue had at its disposal. Their father was furious at the world, and his boys couldn’t blame him.

Virgil pushed the door open, back facing the room as he carried his almost impossibly tall stack of papers; all of the emails from his older brother's laptop. Maybe one of them had some kind of clue. That’s what Thunderbird 2’s pilot hoped at least. He deposited them on a nearby countertop and began to sift through them, sighing as he did so. This wasn’t going to be easy.

It was a strange kind of silence that followed, everyone panicking and trying to find even the smallest lead. Virgil was so absorbed in his analysis of Scott’s emails that he didn’t realise someone else’s arrival until their father broke the silence. “Alan? What are you doing in here? You should be resting.” Virgil looked up to see Jeff, arms folded as he addressed the youngest brother, trying his best to look stern. That didn’t stop the pilot from noticing the worry in their father’s eyes, however.

Alan sighed. “Sorry, Dad.” He folded his arms as well, matching Jeff’s stern glare. “I couldn’t just stay in my room while you guys are doing all the work to find Scott.” He shrugged. “Besides, I feel just fine.”

Virgil replaced his current file on the pile as he rose to his feet, stretching weary muscles as he did so, and walked toward his brother. “I’ll be the judge of that, Al.” He beckoned Alan to follow him to the sickbay, and the blond obliged, confidant in his ability to pass the check-up he was about to endure. Gordon gave his partner-in-crime a salute as the two walked by, something Alan returned with a grin on his face.

Within moments, they were in the sickbay, and Virgil worked fast with the check-up, wrapping the blood pressure monitor firmly around Alan’s arm. The older of the two hummed after a few minutes of monitoring. That seemed normal. He pulled out a needle, causing Alan to wince a little. “You okay with the blood test? We don’t have to, but you’d have to stay on the sidelines for a little longer.”

Alan nodded, determined to help the others find Scott, and Virgil went ahead. As the two were waiting for the results to come in, a process made as quick as ever thanks to Brains’ incredible improvements to the reader, Alan hummed. “So… any luck so far?”

Virgil sighed. “Nothing yet. But we’re working as fast as we can. In addition to Brains and Tin dissecting that crab, John’s putting an algorithm together, Dad’s got all the agents out looking for him and Gordon’s alerted his friends in WASP.” The medic crossed his arms. “I’m trying to find any clues on Scott’s laptop.”

Alan stifled a laugh. “Bet Scott won’t like that, you snooping through his private emails.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, smirking despite the situation. “He can just deal with it. It’s for his own good.” His face fell as he looked at Alan. “Why do you wanna help so much, Allie? If your poisoning is linked to Scott’s disappearance, which it likely is, you could be in danger.”

Alan sighed. “Not on the Island.” He smiled sadly at Virgil. “We’re Tracy’s, Virg. All stubborn as anything. We protect our own, and just because I’m the youngest doesn’t mean I don’t have a protective streak. You know that. He’s my brother too…”

The pilot of Thunderbird 2 smiled back, reaching forward to run his fingers through his brother’s blond hair. “I know, Allie.” Virgil frowned gently. “Sometimes we just forget just how old you are, that you’re just as adult as the rest of us. It’s just the big brother way to protect the younger ones…”

The young astronaut leaned into the hug his brother provided, tears threatening to emerge. “But who protects you guys?”

Before Virgil could say anything else to comfort Alan, the machine beeped, and the two regretfully separated, ready to read the results.

------

Kyrano paced the hallway as the people inside tried desperately to locate their missing piece. He had a feeling about who was behind this; these dang headaches were only getting more and more recent since Scott Tracy disappeared. He also recognised the species of crab the robotic messenger was based upon, a native species of his home province in Malaysia. He was sure his brother had chosen it on purpose.

Just as he was about to walk into the lab to ask how everything was going, Virgil and Alan rounded the corner. The manservant smiled when he saw the grin on the youngest’s face. No doubt the blond had been given a clean bill of health.

Kyrano staggered a little, swaying from side to side as his vision started to darken. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Virgil give him a concerned look and open his mouth, but Kyrano couldn’t hear what the medic was saying. Before he knew it, he had blacked out completely, just in time to notice the two brothers running up to him to break his fall…

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Running on the roofs' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Running on the roofs"

Chapter Summary : Yirina is still struggling with her bad thoughts as her & Garrett are awaiting for the mission to happen....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3300

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After I called Park with Garrett's satellite phone, I stayed a bit in my room, trying to think that my presence in Cuba wasn't going to be very long and it's sure that tomorrow in the morning, we will be back at West-Berlin in the safehouse maybe next to Park in our common bed. Garrett has planned almost everything in here and since we know where is exactly Vargas, our little trip here is just going to be for today. I was still feeling mixed between sadness and happiness....first to be here....second to have talked to Park, it was the best thing I did in here.

Once I was able to calm myself down in the bed, I decided that it was time to leave my room to join Garrett in the small living room of the apartment, giving him back his phone and to finally get myself to work. Instead of staying all day in here to wait until we had to meet Garret's contact at that bar, we decided to make some scouting about where Vargas was living : an big apartment with at least enough place to have an lot of men at his charge. Since we didn't bring any big firepower in here, it will be Garrett's contact that will do the trick....must be someone well-placed to do that.....

There were an thing that astonished me during our walks in the city and I just saw it only at these moments : this place was like really back in time opposed to the West. All the cars, the clothes....it was like this place never left the 50's. It can mainly be explained by the US embargo on Cuba due to be the only communist regime in the whole America and frankly, it was very strange to discover some sort of a new world in here : I had a feeling to discover the 50s as an fully-growed adult.

However, there were no time to look at these details anymore as the night were starting to fall on the city, meaning that we had to go to the meeting point : the 'Montserrate Bar'. We arrived at the place at 9 PM and we installed ourselves in a discreet part of the bar, wanting us to keep an low profile as perfect looking westerners in a communist country.

"So, when will your contact arrive ?" I asked Garrett as I put my arms on the high table we installed ourselses, looking behind him in case my question could be quick answered.

"Maybe in 10 minutes, said he got something to take care of." He replied as he started to light up an cigarette before he proposed one to me. "Want one ?" I shook my head.

"Not for the moment." I gestured to him, raising slowly my hand to put the cigarette away. "I don't want to stress too much."

"Smoke is stressing you ?" He raised an eyebrow, confused.

"No, I didn't say that but it's just the place that is stressing me."  I confessed, looking at the bar around me. "I only want to deal with Vargas quickly and then, get away from here." I added in a low voice before looking back at him....my bad thoughts was just coming back in my head.

"You're still thinking of what happened to you here ?" I nodded to him.

"There's things I can't forget, Garrett." I affirmed, clear in my voice "What happened here is still in my mind, I can't forget." I continued

"Listen, we're gonna be quick here and those bad thoughts in you will fly away like that when we will be gone." He snapped his fingers, blowing smoke. He was trying to recomfort me but it couldn't work like that.

"No, it's not going to work like this." I exclaimed, holding my forehead with my left hand, arms on the table. "It's not just little bad thoughts."

"Shit, the tone of the voice means that it's damn serious." He told me, surprised.

"Of course it has to be !" I raised my voice against him but I quickly get it down, wanting to stay silent as people almost looked at me. "Someone I considered like an brother died in this country because of me." I whispered, sniffing and holding back my tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." He was apologizing and I could understand, he wasn't aware of it before I had an thought in my head

"You...you want to know what happened that day ?" I asked him and frankly, I wasn't so sure of myself and my own words.

"Hm....Yirina, I'm not sure if it's a good idea." He bit his lips, looking at me with wide eyes, not okay with my idea.

"No, you might need to know why I'm like this." I said to him and I could see on his face that he realize that he had to know.

"Uhm....okay but...if you don't want to do this...."

"No, I will !" I cut him straight in his words, looking at him seriously. "Okay !" I breathed before I redressed myself standing up, ready to concentrate myself and then, I closed my eyes "It was 3 years ago....."

"RPG !" It was Lazar's voice yelling to me & Park as I was just getting hooked up to the ballon that was going to extract us from the complex Perseus used to hide an Greenlight asset. To be honest, his voice....I could feel the fear in it and the urge to run away from the place before we got blow up....They didn't have time to hook themselves to the ballon that the soldier who had the RPG fired and the rocket flied at our position.

I was sent away by the rocket's blast and the last thing I saw before I blacked out for an few instants was Park & Lazar flying above me in each one direction.....you understand ?....It was the last time I saw Lazar not hurt and not harmed. When I slowly opened my eyes, I could taste the blood in my own mouth, looking at the ground in pain as I was regaining consciousness of the fucking situation we were now.

When I looked up, I could see Park & Lazar on the ground wounded and they couldn't move at all, each one of them were hurt. Park....she couldn't feel her own legs and Lazar....a piece of metal was in his left leg, unable to move it at all...he was like paralyzed in place, handing his both hand to me & Park.

"Jess...I....can't....I can't feel my legs !" Park was sounding too hurt, she was looking at me with her face with cuts and open wounds on it. I breathed heavily as I was looking at her before I looked at Lazar.

"Help Park, Bell, quick !" He ordered me as he tried to remove the piece of metal in his leg. "Do it !" He asked me again as I slowly started to move to get to Park, him focused in removing that piece of metal.

"I'm....I'm here !" I whispered to Park as I arrived next to her, she was looking petrified at me, seeing me in that state and me too, looking at her. "It's okay..." I start to hook her with me, strapping her around my waist before she put her both arms around my neck.

"Lazar...."  Park's voice was sounding too low as she was looking to him before I did the same....He succeeded to remove the thing from his leg but he was still unable to move.

"Lazar, take my hand !" I handed over my hand to him and he was doing the same.....before we could hear the sound of an plane coming in.....the plane that was going to take us away....just nearly going to hit the ballon....and Lazar wasn't hooked to the ballon. "Lazar !" I shouted to him.

"Bell !" He started to breath loudly before he closed his eyes and then reopened it again....surely knowing that he wasn't going to make it out alive. "Promise me....take care of Park !" He exclaimed loudly to me.....before I could feel myself & Park getting off the ground, shouting Lazar's name as I saw him getting shot by Tropas....that was the last moment I saw him alive !

Take care of Park.....it was....his last words to me !

"Take care of Park..." I whispered to myself as I reopened my eyes in the bar, facing Garrett who was shocked to hear me talking about that event, he couldn't know how to feel right now as me....I was still hearing Lazar's voice asking me to fullfill his promise in my head....I didn't know how to feel right now....guilty ?

"Shit..." Garrett looked away from me, holding his cigarette in hand, he was certainly bewildered now, trying to keep his cool. "Yirina, I'm....I'm so sorry."

"It's my fault that he died, Garrett." I told him, taking back an normal voice, looking at him seriously. "I wasn't faster to save him." I sniffed. "I'm the one to blame in here....and to be honest, don't try to tell me that it wasn't my fault." I passed my hand through my hand & face, sort of ashamed of myself.

"Yirina, it's....." He stopped himself, looking troubled. "I know that you said it but it wasn't your fault." He affirmed to me but I wasn't listening like if I closed my ears....I'm the one to blame here...."Maybe I'm not the only one who told you this but it's true....it isn't your fault." I crossed my arms on the table, looking at it.

"Listen....let's...let's change the subject." I breathed, not looking at Garrett. "It's better, right ?" He nodded to me as I put my eyes on him again, just trying to remove the bad thoughts I just got back after reliving that.

"Yeah, it's better..." He replied before I looked behind him, seeing an hooded man enter the bar, having his eyes in all his directions before he put his eyes on Garrett himself.

"Think that your contact is here." I spoke to Garrett who turn his head around to look discreetly to verifly my claim.

"Yes, it's him." He told me, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray on the table between us as the hooded man arrived next to us with an friendly face. "Garcia !"

"Donovan, mi amigo !" The man exclaimed as the two shook hands in front of me. "The MI6 didn't send you here for vacations as you told me." He added, making me curious about how this 'concerned citizen' knew of Garrett MI6 status.

"Not about Vargas himself." Garrett finished to shook hands before he looked at me. "Oh, Garcia, she's Yirina Grigoriev, working also with the MI6." I handed over my hand with Garcia who agreed and we shook hands as well. "He's Mendo Garcia....working with the DGI."

"DGI ?" I asked, confused to Garrett, knowing that the DGI is the cuban organization for counter-espionage and to be sure, an rival to the West organizations.

"Even if we are maybe enemies, we can work well together !" Garcia exclaimed, making Garrett smile about it and me, doing the same thing but more a little one. "Besides, we all have an common enemy !"

"Anything new for Vargas ?" Garrett asked him.

"I was able to get the police close their eyes and ears for about 20 minutes, will be an large window for you to act." Garcia responded, tapping Garrett left shoulder. "As I promised you an favor an long time, I will help you with that." He added, surprised to hear Garcia saying that he will help us. "Follow me, it's time for us to go to work." He then start to walk away to get out of as we followed him.

It was time for us to get into action, to get this done very quick and then, be in our very way out of Cuba. We followed Garcia outside the bar with Garrett reassuring of Garcia's good motives before we arrived at, what I supposed to be Garcia's car, hidden from the public sight right next to Vargas hideout, he opened the trunk of it, revealing bulletproofs vest and also 3 guns with at least 4 four mags for each : a AK-74u, a MP5 and an Milano 821. I took the MP5 with me as Garrett took the Milano and Garcia the AK-74u

"Courtesy from the DGI !" Garcia scoffed as we put the bulletproof vest on top of our jacket.

"Can say that it's nice from you, Garcia." I told him as he smiled at me.

"The friends of my friends are my friend, mi amiga." He affirmed as he closed the trunk of the car with us fully prepared and armed in hidden sight from the civilians. "Come on, time for you to get Vargas." He loaded his gun before walking away in the direction of Vargas apartment with us behind him.

We arrived behind the apartment that was more looking like an house and by luck, there were an garden where we could infiltrate ourselves in. We jumped in it to discover Vargas, talking to some of his mens around an table, apparently drinking and laughing....an perfect occasion to strike and once we were ready, we opened fire to the inside, aiming mainly Vargas mens and not him directly. Unfortunately, as soon as we start to shoot that he was already running upstairs. We killed at least 8 guys with just mag each.

"Shit, he's running away !" Garrett yelled as he just saw starting to run from his cover.

"So, we're doing the same." I exclaimed as I entered the apartment very fast from the broken window we shot through, spanning over the dead bodies on my way before I started to get up the stairs, still aiming on top to not be surprised by someone. Garcia & Garrett was just behind me from up close.

We arrived on the first floor, realizing that Vargas was actually trying to flee away by taking the roofs of the building around us meaning that we had no choice to do the same as him. I was the first to step on the roof and I was greeted by an man who tried to knock me out with his own gun but I countered him, striking him first before taking his own knife to plant right under his chin and then, I got myself into cover as at least 2 guys were shooting us from behind some chimneys.

"They're blocking our way to get to Vargas." Garrett peaked his head from his cover as we were seeing Vargas fleeing away as his men were covering him. "We got to find a way."

"I know the place, amigo." Garcia said, reloading his gun "There's an way to get around them." He showed to us an open door just next to him and it was some sort of large corridor and when I tried to find the end of it, it was just leading just behind the covers Vargas mens

"Let me do it." I said, seeing the opportunity presenting itself. "Stay here, they still need to believe that we all here." I added before I moved quickly to get to Garcia's cover and then I entered rapidly inside the corridor, aiming forwards and advancing faster.

I arrived at the end until I was surprised by an third guy that was probably awaiting for me. I reacted quickly to avoid his punch before I headbutt the guy open and I took his pistol that was strapped at his jacket before realizing he had an grenade on it. So, I shot the guy in the chest before I removed the pin of the grenade and throwing the guy right behind the covers the other were using to shoot us. They didn't have one second to react that the grenade exploxed, making a lot of noises around as I put myself into cover from the explosion.

"Quick, he's getting away !" I shouted to Garcia and Garrett, gesturing them to follow me as I was starting to get up the roof before I realized that Vargas had arrived in an dead end with the next roof leading to nowhere except the void.

"Let's do this !" Garrett reloaded his gun with the last mag he had before he start to run with us.

We had to slide on the roof as the last men Vargas had was shooting at us during our little slide before we jumped off the roof, shooting to them....I was feeling like our moves was in slow motion as we were blasting with our guns in the skies, literally jumping over an street before we landed on the roof perfectly without a scratch, having neutralized every of Vargas men during our jump, dead or badly wounded as Garrett walked towards Vargas.

"Wait, we can...." Vargas tried to plead before Garrett punched him right into his face, making him fall on the ground.

"Yirina, he's yours." Garrett told me as he move away from him, getting next to an wounded guy, Garcia staying back from the scene as I moved to grab Vargas by the collar.

"Wait, you have rules....MI6 has rules !" Vargas spoke with Garrett, having recognized him or maybe because of our accent. I looked up to see Garrett, holding the wounded guy.

"Rules has changed, Vargas !" Garrett exclaimed before he literally throw the guy off the roof, making him land into an car.....as Garrett told me, Vargas's men deserved that fate and to be honest, we're showing them that sometimes, we don't stick to the rules.  "You killed british citizens." He added before he nod at me

"So, you better start talking because there's plenty of cars." I moved Vargas next to the edge of the roof, pointing at the multiple cars on the ground level.

"Ok, what do you want to know ?" He asked me, fear in his voice.....I thought that he was very thought but not here with us. "I'll tell everything."

"Russians guns, who's supplying them to Perseus ?" I questioned him, holding him by the collar.

"I don't know." He replied, scared and by that, I threw an punch at him.

"You told us that you would talk, so talk !" I affirmed, moving his head right above the edge.

"Ok....okay." He started, looking down. "It's a KGB officer based in Moscow who's doing this."

"Have an name ?" I asked him clearly as he start to breath loudly from having me on top of him. "Speak !" I prepared my hand, clenching it in case he didn't want to talk more

"Wait, I know...." He said loudly. "She's named Yirina Portnova !" Hearing that name and I could feel myself froze in place, my eyes going wide.....Portnova is still in Moscow ?....Does that mean that....I wasn't able to save her from Perseus ? I was still holding Vargas as these new thoughts came in me.

"You're kidding ?" I told him, almost angry.

"No, I swear it....she's named Yirina Portnova....been working with us since 1981 !" He affirmed before I decided to remove myself from him, having enough of him.

"I'm done with him." I said to Garrett as I helped Vargas to get up on his feets before I threw him into Garrett's direction who literally punched him again, making Vargas knocked out. "What now ?" I asked to Garrett

"We're going to get that guy out of the country to the MI6." He responded as he took his satellite phone he kept during all the fight. "You're okay ?" He saw me getting pale from hearing Portnova's name.

"Yeah, I'm good." I replied in a very low voice.

"Nice." He grinned at me before he looked at Garcia who was taking Vargas body on his shoulders.

"Come here, gringo." Garcia taunted the unconscious Vargas as he was taking him on his shoulders. "My british friends want to talk to you." He added as he was fully ready to get out of here with us as Garrett dialed an number on his phone and me....I was thinkful about Portnova, wondering of what could have happened to her after I maybe helped Zasha escape......

What happened to you, Portnova ?

[catsnuggler]

It's hard to believe my ancestors were medieval peasants, because their bodies are over there, and I'm over here. Before that, they were either Roman citizens, or any of various "tribal" peoples outside of Rome who warred with each other and Rome. And, of course, there was a time before Rome existed. Yet none of it feels real to me. Not real enough. I'm not over there. I'm over here.

Technically, when you get down to brass tacks, I only know Europe exists because I'm taking everyone else's word for it. I haven't made any satellites. I don't own any boats or planes, nor have I captained/piloted them across the world. From my point of view, the very existence of any place outside of North America - Hell, even of most of North America - is confirmed only by the statistical impossibility that everyone I've ever met who's told me about places I haven't been to was lying, pulling it out of their ass. It's strange to reflect on this. My ancestors were Scottish, Irish, English, Welsh, French, German, Swedish, Danish, Finnish... go back far enough, and you'll find at least one or another is from some corner of Europe.

I allegedly even descend from a rabbi. I say "allegedly" because my source is familysearch, a family history site owned by the LDS church, and you'd have to go through one particular line, switching between so many mothers and fathers, all the way back to... I forget if it was the 1500's or the 1400's to find that rabbi, who is listed as his own dad by the far-from-complete, let alone accurate, records on that site. I'm not saying I know for certain whether any of my ancestors are Jewish or not; rather, even if one of them was, I'm not going to claim an experience that isn't my own just because an ancestor of mine centuries ago did have that experience, an entire continent away. I feel it'd be misappropriative and disrespectful to the Jewish community for a gentile to go around saying "Well I'm 1/5093443543th Jewish so I have as much right to claim it as you." But I've digressed.

My overall point is that, Jewish, English, German, Swedish, Scottish - that means nothing to me. None of it passed down. Well, none of it aside from Shakespeare being taught in school, liberalism, blah blah blah, but America has made itself its own thing, its own imperial amalgamation. There's no reconnecting if there wasn't a connection in the first place, and I'm not connected. My ancestors that called themselves anything aside from Americans died long before I was born.

I think that's a large part of why white left-wing Americans get so messed up about assimilation that we say that Jewish, Indian, or other immigrants to the UK aren't British. We assume that by saying that they're British, that the speaker either assumes the individual must have given up their culture to assimilate, or wants the audience to assume to; either way, we see it as advancing cultural erasure, when really the speaker isn't doing that at all, and is only implicitly insisting that them, indeed, being Jewish, Indian, etc does not give them any less right to live in Britain and self-identify as British. Unwittingly, we Yanks play into the hands of nationalists in saying what we do; we say "They are different, and deserve to be recognized as such," in the sense that the brilliance of their unique origins should not be brushed over. The nationalists say "They are different, and therefore deserve to be cast out to preserve the purity of the nation." We're both still othering immigrants, however, and even if us left-wing white Yanks don't mean to do so in an oppressive way, we're opening the door for the nationalists.

Idk, I'm not seeking to pontificate, this is just a long, personal vent post from a burnt-out white ex-mormon American, who lives in the 'burbs, on the pacific coast, but not, like, actually on the coast, nor even somewhere green. Someone who hated the desert while growing up, but has grown to accept it, even if he knows he isn't built for this desert. Someone who knows he doesn't have the answers, knows he doesn't know, knows there are things he doesn't even know that he doesn't know (unknown unknowns) but, of course, doesn't know what those unknown unknowns are, or else they wouldn't be unknown unknowns, would they? I've been wondering for years, and this wondering still hasn't brought me the answers. When will they come?