It was a simple mission. Charles had stumbled upon some mutants' desperate thoughts a day before he'd told Erik he wanted to go on a mission; they were locked in one of the government's labs, some man by the name of Trask doing tests on them. They needed Charles, and Charles wouldn't abandon them.
Charles told Emma of his secret sessions, and told her to pretend to have found the trapped mutants herself so Erik wouldn't discover Charles's deception. Emma had agreed, smirking at learning about the secret Charles was keeping. She loved a bit of rebellion and deception, and Charles wore his defiance beautifully.
She'd thought Charles the honest, wholesome boy you took to church or dinner with your parents. She never thought he'd be secretive, and she loved it.
It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get in, destroy an evidence of them or any research, rescue the mutants, get out. Simple, efficient. Nothing troublesome about that.
If only it had been that easy.
Charles and Emma were both getting a weird feeling from the base as they neared it, but not knowing how the other felt, they ignored it. They could feel the presences in the building, the distressed mutants. Both telepaths tried to reach out to them, to sooth them, to learn anything about their surroundings, but oddly enough, both couldn't quite reach them.
The whole team- at some point during the flight, he began considering the group his and Erik's group, their group- exited the jet, slowly creeping closer to the steel door entrance that led to the underground base.
Everything happened in an instant.
Men in tactical gear- non-metal, Erik noted with rage- began dropping out of the trees and coming out of bushes. They all had plastic guns and bullets- enraging Erik further- and there was at least ten guns pointed at each mutant. They'd been all well hidden, but it didn't make sense to Charles, Emma, Hank, or Logan. Charles and Emma sound have sensed them- sensed their minds- and Hank and Logan, with their heightened senses of smell sound have easily smell of these men.
Nothing made sense.
Charles was about to take control of all of them, turn the guns away from them, when they all heard a calm, authoritative voice. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." The voice was false-soothing. It tried to sooth, but it hid malice.
Charles looked towards the sound, the same with his group, and a very short man, a taller man, and a girl stood before them, the girl looking to be concentrating very hard on something.
"And why is that?" Charles asked, pulling out all of his charm as he raised an eyebrow.
"Well, because my snipers would shoot you, of course," the short man said, as if he was speaking of the weather instead of Charles's family.
"Excuse me?" Charles replied incredulously, hoping for further explanation so he could have time to think of a plan.
"Well, I'm trapping you. If you mind-control my men, the snipers whom are out of your range will see and fire and kill you all. Then no one will stop me from dissecting those precious children of yours," he said, bringing out a walkie talkie. He pressed a button, and he heard noise over the line. Shouting, crying, yelling. Then: "I'm so sorry, Professor," Ororo sobbed over the line, and then he could make out all of his children's voices.
Jean was sobbing as well, Scott shouting at them to let them go and that Professor X and Magneto and Havok and Darwin and Mystique would rescue them and kick their asses. Erik had taught the children all of their code names and told them to use them around bad guys. Charles couldn't even find it in himself to be angry at Scott for cursing.
Marie was crying, shouting for Wolverine, Mystique, Professor X and Magneto. Bobby was threatening them. The twins were shouting for their daddy and their vati, and Kitty was begging for her blue teddy bear to rescue her. Erik and Hank both looked murderous, as if they'd leap through the walkie and rip the men to shreds together. Alex and Logan looked about ready to do the same.
In fact, all of them looked murderous, except perhaps himself and Frost, and that was simply from years of them both hiding behind facades.
"So, the government is threatening children now? No wonder so many don't trust the government," Charles said, raising an eyebrow, his voice mocking. The short man raised an eyebrow back. "Are you really in any position to mock me?" He asked, his voice curious. Like he genuinely wanted an answer.
"I'm always in a position to mock someone," Charles replied, apparently horrible at negotiations. Then again, he was hearing his children crying as men pointed guns at his family. He was allowed to be a bit stupid right now.
"The great Professor X, beaten by my little niece," the short man said with amusement, smirking.
Then, it dawned on him.
"The girl is a mutant. She's blocking our powers," Charles said, his voice filled with awe. He found the girl fascinating. Though, he'd like her powers a lot more if they weren't the reason his children were in danger right now.
"Yes, indeed. I don't think we've officially met. I'm Dr. Bolivar Trask. I'm going to be experimenting on you," the short man said, as if they were meeting for a spot of tea instead of one of them being ambushed by the other.
Trask continued, "What do you think, Stryker, should we breed some mutant kids out of them? Might be good weapons." He was speaking to the taller one, as if opening an interesting discussion.
"The furry one has glanced at the blue girl five times in the last few minutes, slowly moving towards her. He's fond of her. They'd make a good mating pair," the taller man spoke, as if he wasn't talking about two people, but rather two animals locked in cages, created solely for their research. Beast growled a haunting, threatening growl that would inspire nightmares in the bravest of men, but didn't faze the soulless creatures before them.
"Would you like that, boy? Would you like her pregnant with your... What, pups? Cubs?" Trask laughed, and Stryker smirked. Beast bared his teeth, ready to rip the man's throat out as Raven, Charles's dear, sweet, innocent baby sister seemed to shrink in size, a sound of fear leaving her.