Hearing a knock at his door, Scott put his notebook away in his drawer and headed to the door, opening it to see Warren and Hank standing there waiting. Their expressions were entirely different, Warren looking eager and confident with a smile on his face, while Hank looked nervous and anxious about what was to be said.
"Come on in," Scott told them, stepping to one side and allowing both boys into his room. Warren made his way quickly to the desk, sitting down in the chair while Hank hovered awkwardly in the middle of the room. "You can sit on the bed if you want, Hank," Scott told him, moving to the bed himself to sit down, Hank paused for a moment before sitting at the edge awkwardly.
"So, we have a mission?" Warren asked excitedly. "What's it about?"
Scott didn't waste time with pleasantries.
"This mission is simple in theory, but the risks are high," he began, his tone firm as he went straight to the point. Scott could have sugarcoated things, but considering the mentalities of Warren and Hank, it could have more negative effects than positive. Warren, confident and slightly cocky could end up not taking the mission as seriously as necessary even when things got serious. As for Hank, the sudden revelation of unexpected variables could cause him to freeze up, leaving him and putting others in a vulnerable position. "I'm going to rescue a mutant currently being held in prison. His name is Robert Drake."
Hank furrowed his brow. "Why is he in prison?"
"He's a mutant with cryokinetic abilities. He was arrested for accidentally using his powers in public," Scott explained. "He's the same age as us, but the authorities labelled him a threat and threw him into a local prison. He currently has no set release date and the legal system is dragging its feet in addressing his future. It's likely that if nothing is done to change this, Drake will spend the rest of his life in prison."
Neither Hank nor Warren liked the sound of that.
"So we're breaking him out?" Warren leaned back, his arms crossed. "Sounds pretty straightforward to me."
"It's not." Scott's eyes locked onto Warren, the young man's words proof of why Scott was hesitant to take the two with him on this mission. "The problem isn't just the prison. It's the mob that's gathering outside the prison."
"Mob?" Warren asked, the glimmer of excitement in his eyes and the aura of confidence that had surrounded him dimming slightly.
Scott's features hardened. "Peaceful protestors. Not the type demanding Drake be given a fair trial, but the type protesting at the mere existence of a Mutant in their midst. The type that if left for too long, will be overcome with fear that they feed into until eventually it escalates into full-blown riots. Right now, they're content to wave signs and chant slogans about Mutants. But their sentiments are being shared amongst one another and eventually, it will just take a spark. They'll turn violent and suddenly the guards and prisoners will be the least of our concerns."
Hank's frown deepened. "What about the guards? The prisoners? Are they likely to cause problems?"
"Neither are guaranteed to be non-threats," Scott replied bluntly. "Some guards might see us as intruders or enemies and act accordingly. Some prisoners might see an opportunity to escape or to attack us to settle their own prejudices. Make no mistake; this is still a highly dangerous mission and we will be lucky if everything goes smoothly."
As Scott had intended, he did not hide anything or withhold the harsh reality of the worst-case scenario. As he had already known, both had certain mindsets that could prove to be more dangerous for them and the team as a whole if the information was withheld. Both needed to be fully aware of everything and to make their own choice following that and only then could Scott be certain.
"You both need to understand what you're walking into." Scott told them this as well. "This mission isn't optional for me, but it is for you. I'm going whether you guys join me or not. But if you decide to come, you need to be aware that this will be risky and things could quickly go south."
"...So guards, prisoners, a mob outside?" Warren wondered after a moment's pause for consideration before sitting up straighter, a glint of determination in his eye. "I'm in. Sounds like a challenge."
Scott frowned. "This isn't a game, Warren. If you think this is about proving yourself, stay here."
Warren's smirk faltered, though he tried to recover. "I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to." Scott's tone was as sharp as a blade, well aware that his failures in New York had led to Warren developing a chip on his shoulder. "If you come with me, you follow my orders. No improvisation. No heroics. If you disobey, you'll be sidelined permanently. Do I make myself clear?"
Warren hesitated, then nodded. "Crystal."
Scott turned to Hank. "And your choice?"
Hank swallowed hard, his shoulders slumping slightly under Scott's scrutiny. "I… I don't know if I can do this."
Scott didn't soften his expression. "Then don't. This isn't a training exercise, Hank. If you're not ready to face what's out there, it's better for everyone if you stay here." It was harsh, but the truth. Scott was not going to force someone he didn't think was ready, let alone think themselves ready as all that would do was spell chaos and disaster. No, Hank needed more time to get comfortable with his powers and the fact that Hank recognised that was good to see, it showed promise.
Hank looked down at the table, ashamed but relieved. "I think…I think I should sit this one out."
Scott gave a curt nod, accepting Hank's answer. "You made the right choice. If you're not ready then forcing yourself would have been the wrong choice to make." He then turned to Warren. "Then it's just me and you. Get ready, we leave in an hour."
-X-
In the hangar, Scott moved with purpose, his movements precise as he checked over the jet. He was thorough and methodical as he checked over the systems of the X-Jet—anything less would have been unacceptable. The X-Jet still possessed the sleek black, aerodynamic design that was similar to the older more technologically advanced X-Jets. It lacked a few of the technological advancements born from alien technology but still was a top-end vehicle.
As he was beginning to wrap up his checks, Warren arrived, suited up in a sleek, black suit similar to Scott's own, his usual confidence replaced by a rare seriousness as he moved up the ramp. Carefully, Warren approached Scott and took the copilot seat, anxiously wondering whether this was a good time to speak.
Scott didn't look up from the controls in front of him. "If you have something to say, say it."
Warren cleared his throat. "Why him? Why risk so much for this kid?"
Scott paused. "I have no personal connection with him if that's what you're wondering." Though not entirely true as Bobby had been an integral member, ally, friend and confidant of Cyclops. But Warren's comment was mostly true as Scott himself had never met not actually had any contact with Bobby personally.
"I know that." Warren scoffed with a smile. "I'm just wondering why go so far for someone else."
"Because no one else will," Scott told him simply.
"That's it?"
"That's it," Scott confirmed, his tone leaving no room for further discussion. He looked outside to see Charles and Logan across at the other side of the hanger. Charles' expression was heavy with thought while Logan stood with his arms crossed.
"You're letting him go through with this?" Logan asked, his voice low.
"I don't have a choice," Charles replied quietly. "There's no one else capable of handling this."
Logan let out a growl of disapproval. "The kids desperate to leave." He pointed out gruffly. "You two share the same vision, but your methods differ. Scott knows this and he wants to get away so he can do things his way. You may have gotten him to stay so far, but that won't last and this mission just may embolden him. You think you can handle that?"
"I'm not sure." Charles replied. "But Scott and I are both determined to rescue Robert from his fate. That we both agree on. I have to trust that your offer to Scott is enough to make him come back and that maybe, just maybe this mission with Warren will make him see the value of the X-Men."
Logan just grunted, turning and leaving.
-X-
Meanwhile, Hank sat slumped on the couch in the mansion's common area, his head in his hands. His thoughts churned with guilt and self-doubt, the weight of his hesitation pressing heavily on him. He had wanted to go, wanted to rescue a Mutant unfairly trapped in prison, he knew it was the right thing to do. But Hank was only just beginning to get the image of Conquistador, broken and beaten under him from his mind whenever he used his powers in training.
To actually use them in a mission though, only filled Hank with self-doubt.
The sound of heavy boots approaching made him look up to see Logan standing over him, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Get up," Logan said gruffly. "You're coming with me."
Hank blinked, confused. "What? Where?"
"The Danger Room," Logan replied, grabbing Hank by the arm and hauling him to his feet. "You're not sitting here feeling sorry for yourself while Summers and Bird Boy are out there risking their necks."
"But I—I said I wasn't ready—"
"That's why we train," Logan interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.