10. (Side story) Magneto 02 - On the way to Canada

A giant metal bullet screamed down from the edges of the upper atmosphere on a ballistic arc towards Canada.

The superheated metal skin of the vessel cooled almost impossibly quickly as its shape altered from that of a super-sonic bullet, to a more flattened disk that caught the air, reorienting it and helped decelerate it further into a shallow glide.

Metal peeled and folded away from the front of the disk as it reshaped further into an a glider wing form, revealing a hardened transparent crystal and allowing a view within the vehicle.

Inside the vehicle were several well-padded seats with five point harnesses each of which held individuals in well-tailored suits.

Cargill glared out of the crystalline windshield with her arms crossed. "I am simply saying, that it would have been far simpler to have had Pipeline transport us directly to Ottowa."

Her partner, an attractive pale-skinned woman with high cheekbones and auburn hair done up in a tight, professional braid chuckled nervously.

Her fingers were gripped tightly on her armrests, hard enough for her faintly green glowing fingers to dig into the metal.

"Yeah… last time I came back down to earth from orbit wasn't much fun." She swallowed, watching their plunge back into the atmosphere with ill concealed nervousness.

Floating in the center of the chamber inside the now gliding vessel was President Erik Magnus. He stood in the air, hands clasped loosely behind his back, helmet on his head, but wearing a formal black and grey high-collared suit of discreet ballistic rated body armor that allowed him to cut an entirely different figure from the popular image of his days as a mutant revolutionary and made him appear… dare he think it? Quite regal. A man as old as he was, who looked as good as he did, should be allowed a hint of vanity, he admitted to himself.

"Agent Unuscione," Erik said, his voice somewhat kindly, " I am aware of the circumstances of the last time, when Avalon was falling from the sky… but rest assured I am in perfect control of our craft and there will be no need for you to extend your forcefield to protect us from reentry."

"Yes, my lord." Unuscione murmured back, still looking quite queasy.

This earned her an elbow in the side from Cargill. "It's 'sir' now. Not 'my lord'. You're going to give people the wrong idea."

"Right… gotcha… no wrong ideas." Unuscione admitted faintly.

"As to why we're flying in rather than simply teleporting… there's a certain degree of one-upmanship and show-boating necessary in any diplomatic endeavor." Erik replied. "It's not strictly necessary, but I find a bit of showmanship helps smooth things over."

"I'm certain they'll be suitably impressed by you, my lord." Unuscione muttered, then caught herself, blushed fainthly and added, "Sir."

This earned a chuckle from a seat on the other side of the vessel, where a man with darkly tanned skin and handsome aristocratic features lounged in a seat not built for it. His hair was black, curly and neatly styled, but beginning to gray prematurely.

Unuscione turned a weak glare towards him and Cargill sighed.

"No one asked you, DaCosta." Unuscione growled.

He gave a small, arrogant smirk back at her and raised a hand in a dismissive motion. His voice was a pleasant tenor with a faint hint of a Brazillian accent as he spoke in English, "Please, Carmella. Considering how closely we've worked together already, you really should be calling me 'Bobby'."

Unuscione scowled and sunk deeper into her seat.

Cargill turned her glower full force on him. "You know, I'm sure you got the departmental memos about sexual harassment and appropriate workplace behavior as some point, DaCosta."

Bobby pointed at her and turned up his smirk further, "Well, if you're going to insist on it Agent Cargill," He managed to imbue a wealth of sarcasm into the word 'agent', "Then I, in my turn, must insist that you refer to me as 'Director DaCosta'."

Erik chuckled. "Now, now, children," He chided them idly. "Play nice. Or I'll speak to Moreau about slashing both your budgets in half."

Bobby raised both hands in mock surrender. "I meant no disrespect, El Presidente. Just making conversation."

Cargill huffed a sigh, glancing from Erik to Bobby, "Why are you even here, Director DaCosta?" She sunk just as much sarcasm into her own use of the word. "Isn't there some third world country's economy you have to destabilize or some rogue Hydra plot you should be foiling?"

He shrugged, still slouched in his seat. "I was going this way anyway. It just made more sense to hitch a ride with you guys."

Cargill gave him an incredulous look. "... you coincidentally happened to need to go to Canada?"

"You know how it is." He gestured to Erik, "El Presidente here keeps us busy."

"You're the leader of the Advanced Intelligence Ministry," Cargill insisted, "Why would you be needing to go into the field?"

Bobby gestured towards Erik again, "Why does he?"

"It's not your place to question our Lord's actions!" Unuscione complained hotly. Which earned her stares from everyone else in vessel. She shrank back into herself and mumbled. "Boss. Our boss's actions. I mean. Sir."

Erik chuckled, but not in an unkind way. "There are some tasks one can not leave to one's subordinates."

Bobby spread his hands out as though that explained everything.

Cargill gave him another glare.

"Besides," Bobby finally admitted, "I'm just accompanying our country's glorious leader on this diplomatic mission with an eye towards engaging the Canadians in technological trade."

Cargill quirked an eyebrow. "I am sure you know that the new Canadian leader is some kind of undead mage, right? It was in the intelligence briefing packet your office sent out. Probably not much tech to trade."

Bobby grinned, "Oh, yes. I expect my part of the meeting will be short."