"If you're just joining us, welcome to the second installment of our interview with philanthropist and mutant, Warren Worthington."
The circular dial adjusts the volume that had just felt as though it split his eardrums open. With his head against the airline rest and the small screen shining even in the darkened coach compartment, Bobby Drake fast-forwards through the portion of the video that he was told to listen. The woman beside him paid him no attention, Stacy rarely did after making it clear to her that Zelda was the only woman he wanted to spend his quality time. A sore spot between him and some of the new faces that walked through the doors over the last couple of months. With so many people coming and going, very little wanted anything to do with the larger goal.
Leadership, at least for Bobby's experience, was not as much fun as his days as a practical joker no one took seriously. With almost three weeks of inactivity under his belt, and constant complaining from Scott's kid brother, he was happy to get away from New York, even though he hated jet lag more than the shitty in-flight movies during non-stop flights from Chicago to LAX.
He sighed as the pod cast loaded into his iPod's screen. The volume tested and true, at least the ringing had left his ears the last time they popped. The familiar face of one of his oldest friends panned out from a cameraman’s novice experience with his craft and a perky brunette interviewer that no one would recognized smiled in the screen sitting just across from him.
Replaying it from the beginning, he couldn't stop the smile from forming on his face. If Bobby knew anything at all, he knew what was coming to this reporter.
"If you're just joining us, welcome to the second installment of our interview with philanthropist and mutant, Warren Worthington."
"Was it the wings, or maybe the blue skin that gave it away?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Philanthropist and mutant? I guess I have to have a dual role these days, because I assume a person in my situation cannot dedicate themselves fully to both socioeconomic labels, can he?"
"I didn't mean to imply..."
"No, no, it's all right. It's wonderful to speak with you, reporter and political activist, Jessie Andrews."
"I believe the term you're searching for is journalist?"
"Not in today's media I'm not. Objectivity, fairness, and equal treatment went the way of the dinosaur with the advent of the twenty-four hour news network. Now with as many on the air these days it's hard to see where any agent of the media is anything but a talking piece for their industry, their employer, and the vast amounts of empty airtime they have to fill on a regular basis. But I digress, where were we last hour?"
The interviewer paused a moment and sighed, "After your super heroic initiative, the so-called Champions, merged under the authority of the West Coast charter of the Avengers, you haven't exactly kept yourself out of the limelight. Would you care to elaborate on some of your so-called 'community-based' projects that your company is currently invested?"
"Sure, Miss Andrews. The Worthington Brand is actually no stranger to the role of community leader; however, with our recent acquisitions in the southern California region, we've taken a much more vocal stance with our goals. We've taken a very hard look at our role in the current energy crisis plaguing California and many other states in the region. We are committed to solving this situation at least on a small and local level, if nothing more than to better the lives in our immediate radius, no matter their place in society. As a leader in the community we take our responsibility very seriously and have so far invested a handful of millions into helping alleviate California's energy issues."
"But such a large task, how does Worthington Enterprises believe itself to be the savior of mankind?"
"I like the religious pun, pretty subtle. But our company doesn't regard itself to be an angelic being sent from on high. This is our community too, and by doing what we can on the local level, we are hopeful that the free market competition can take care of the issue. I could sit here and list my hopes for what our company can accomplish. But I don't live my life in the realm of wishes, as you can no doubt tell, in our rebuilding and funding projects in Vermillion, we've been able to install nearly seven thousand residential solar panels and we are currently in negotiations to acquire land just outside the city limits to erect a twenty-five acre wind-farm."
"As the self-proclaimed green energy innovators of the modern era, you've recently spoken to a number of local colleges and universities about the importance of thinking outside the box. Why is this such an important topic for someone like yourself?"
"I've never liked hiding myself from the public, and yes I'm wealthy enough to go about my life without thinking about the more important things in life. But most people in my situation don't know what it's like to fly through the air without the separation of metal and glass between them. I embrace myself in the air every time I fly, for obvious reasons, and most people simply miss the things I see on a regular basis. It's easy to dismiss the environment when you're not in my situation, as my vantage point is mostly unique I have nothing between the air rushing past my hair and wings. And I decided a long time ago that if I was going to have the sort of money that I do I'd make it count for something."
"So, when did you have this epiphany? Before or after your time with the X-Men?"
"That's a bit of a loaded question."
"All is fair, you said so last segment."
"Indeed I did, but to be fair a lot of my maturity was delayed when I thought mutant super heroics was the singular device that I could use to push my view into reality."
"Do you regret that choice?"
"Helping found the X-Men, Champions, Defenders, X-Factor, and the Vermillion chapter of the Champions? No not at all. Perhaps it wasn't the most effective thing I could've done, but I do believe we did do some good in the world by simply opposing the stereotypes of mutants out there. We could've done thing differently, sure; but I don't lose any sleep at night wondering if I made a difference, for the simple reason at least I was willing to try."
"Powerful words, Mister Worthington. But as a mutant yourself, and a large employer in the United States that only hires a handful of mutants, don't you believe you could do more to stabilize your community?"
"I hire those that are the best and brightest into my company. I wouldn't do the mutant or human communities justice by picking favorites inside one or the other. Take for an example Stark Industries. Tony makes it a point to hire ten percent of all annual new hires out of the mutant community exclusively, six percent from newly naturalized American Citizens, and still he out sources another nine percent of his jobs -- specifically in the customer service and support roles -- all across the globe. The latter fifty percent he chooses from the leading universities all over the world. His stringent practices of hiring not-withstanding, I wonder how much talent he loses every year to my company?"
"That is insightful..."
"It's published in his mission statement Miss Andrews. A quick google search will tell you that much."
"Digging into the media again? You certainly make that a habit."
"Competition, Miss Andrews, is a beautiful thing with applied correctly. But its never enough just to out perform the person next to you. Sit stagnant long enough and the guy three blocks down the road will catch onto your complacency and run you right out of business. If you're not willing to break the mold, why should anyone else?"
"Getting back to the topic at hand, the future seems bright for Worthington Enterprises. With alternative energy research your most publicized endeavor what other ideas can the public look forward to?"
"A growing government interest in alternative energies is a market which we're heavily investing in right now, however our company is not a one-trick pony. Even as recently as two weeks ago, our drug and disease research division has sworn off development in the sexual stimulation market and devoted itself entirely on cancer and cellular degenerative treatments. Another bit of news, we've recently won a large government grant to erect a large cancer research and treatment facility in northern New Mexico, construction should begin next quarter."
"Worthington Enterprises surely sounds all over the map, as someone that describes himself as 'Republican in name only,' what do you say to the rumors of being the first mutant eyeing a congressional seat in the Senate?"
"To that, I have no comment."
He pulled the headphones from his ears, "No comment my ass, he might as well have just said announced it right there."
"He is treading new territory, no doubt about that." A heavy German accent spoke through a clean disguise. Kurt sat behind him and there wasn't enough room for him to spread out comfortably to relax, "Has he spoken to you directly about what he's so worried over?"
"The usual," Bobby shrugged. "Death threats, heckling, though who he's running against, now that's the real kicker that can't be sitting well with him."
"The incumbent? Is there something personal?"
The woman next to Kurt tried to quiet him, but he shrugged her efforts off, and Bobby turned, "oh yeah, we can just call it personal for right now but let's talk more after we land. Some things are better left unsaid in public."
"All right, Bobby."
He let out a long sigh and turned back to face the front. "It's been a hell of a few months," he internalized, "Nothing short of amazing, even astonishing, that we've stayed together this long. Even if I can't make sense of the situation half the time."
The aircraft labored and he started to feel its descent. The fasten seatbelts sigh lights up and the Captain's voice comes over the intercom to speak the obvious. LAX was only fifteen minutes and a stretch of runway away. Then it was time to get down to business. Friends in high places not withstanding, Bobby dreaded being in Los Angeles again, the least of his worries being his alma mater, but it certainly weighed on his mind going back these days. A friend in trouble, the sort of trouble he hasn't seen in the last few months was still something he didn't want to recognize as the only reason Warren would call him to talk.
He nudged the woman beside him, "Time to wake up, we're landing soon."
She didn't speak, only stretching and keeping her stares straight ahead. He checked his watch and adjusted for the time difference and packed his notebook and iPod into the small carryon stuffed under his seat. "Ready for this?"
She shrugged, "You wanted me to come along, shouldn't that be something you need to ask yourself?"
"Who said I was speaking to you."
"Oh right, your girlfriend doesn't allow that, does she?"
"What you were doing wasn't talking."
She shrugged and smiled, "too bad, you missed out on the fun."
"I don't need your sort of fun," Bobby whispered, "its not real anyway."
Her smile stayed, even though the holograms covered the scaled skin, Bobby could still feel the slick feel of her hand against his. "Just a little taste, I promise you'll like it."
"Fraulein, I believe he asked you to stop."
Disappointed, she tore her hand away. "You people are just no fun."
"Not lately, we're not." Disgusted, Bobby hated to admit the changes they were forced to endure over the past months. With Xavier gone, the school shut down, and their own future a whim of circumstance Bobby's discomfort may have been the only emotion he could recall having on a regular basis. Even though he wasn't entirely sure why Stacy decided to leave the brothel and stick with them, he wasn't sure if he was unhappy about her decision either, if anything her knowledge of Mutant Town was one thing to turn the tides in their favor.
The captain spoke over the loudspeaker one more time and within minutes the plane touched down and everyone felt the sudden rush as the monstrosity slowed. A familiar sickness came over him, attacking his stomach as everyone stood to collect their carry on baggage. He never spoke about it, but the humor of getting sick after landing wasn’t lost on him either. Bobby slung the laptop bag over his shoulder and letting the woman out in front of him, he exited the plane with the rest of his teammates.
Warren’s driver was waiting for them just as he promised. Their bags in hand none of them spoke to the other as they stuffed their bagged into the trunk and stepped into a white SUV. “Do you guys want to stop at the hotel first? Mister Worthington is stuck in meetings until after four.”
“Three hours to wait, yeah take us to the hotel. I’m sure he’ll find his way to us after he’s finished.”
“You’re Drake right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” the drive said and handed over a small package, “He said you needed this.”
The weight against his hand wasn’t difficult to imagine, but he wasn’t immediately sure why Warren insisted on cash for all of this. His behavior wasn’t anywhere near normal, “but then again,” Bobby thought to himself, “What’s normal anymore?”
The hotel rooms were spacious enough. Nothing that was going to break Warren’s bank account, that was obvious enough, but all the same Bobby tossed his bags onto the ground and hung up the garment bag. Slowly removing the starched shirts from their leather home, he spread them out on hanging bar and left the rest of his luggage for later. Throwing himself on the bed, he immediately wished he hadn’t, hard as a brick, he groaned aloud and already wished he was home with Zelda.
Fake laughter emits from the television and drowns out the first volley of ringing. “Hello,” Bobby spoke lazily into the receiver, almost uninterested in anything but the passing clock.
“Hope your flight was okay.”
“Sure, War, it was just a flight. Not breaking the sound barrier sure makes for a boring and long ass wait.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. What do you say to dinner tonight, around seven? I’m swamped at the office and I feel bad for leaving you guys hanging around.”
“It’s not a big deal Warren. We’ll probably rest off the jet lag or go walking around L.A. We’re on your dime anyway.”
“Yeah the driver gave you the advance, right?”
“Uh huh. It was a hell of an advance man.”
“Dragging you guys out here when you have better things on your plate, it’s the least I can do.”
“War, the least you could do is set us up with a place in Mutant Town and help those people out.”
“Didn’t I do that already?”
“Yeah, man. You did. This is beyond the least you could do.”
“You’re losing your touch on the jokes Bobby, but I have to run, just make sure you don’t turn into Scott. Relax while you’re here as much as you can. I know it’s been rough for you.”
Bobby smirks, “it’s not so bad.”
“Kitty says otherwise, but you’re doing good man. Who would’ve ever thought, right?”
“Yeah man, but…” The connection closes and Bobby just shrugs his shoulders. “Ever the busy son of a bitch.”
Warren tosses his phone onto the desk, looking back to the young man sitting across from his desk. “Sorry about that, old friends just flew into town, meeting them for dinner.”
The dark haired protégé shrugged his shoulders and waited a moment for his telepathy to synchronize with Warren’s thoughts. “So I heard, but Mister Worthington are you sure a public appearance would even be wise at this point?”
He tapped his fingers against the desk and shook his head. “I don’t have the luxury of being afraid of anything right now. To be honest this isn’t exactly new territory but this isn’t the same sort of circumstances I’m used to.”
“No X-Men to help you out?”
“Not entirely, no.” Warren spoke, stepping away from his desk, “it’d be so nice to clear my head and go fly for a while, you know?”
“We can’t guarantee the security would be there for you, sir.”
“I know David, but the statistics can’t be that high, can they?”
“You know better than that, sir.”
“Of course I do, you wouldn’t believe otherwise. Is the media still hammering me for another interview?”
“They’re like wolves. The no comment you gave to Andrews only made them speculate. You’re going to have to announce it soon, regardless of the threats.”
Warren sat down again, and David Alleyne wore no expression on his face, as he looked ahead, “Sir, I not going to sugar coat this. If you want a seat in the Senate, your time is running out, the media is going to eat you alive the longer you wait. The speculation alone is killing your numbers, as if being a visible mutant wouldn’t hurt your chances enough.”
“Press conference tomorrow morning, 10am. That’ll give Bobby’s people enough time to work their magic.”
A smile erupts on the Rhodes Scholar’s face, “Good choice, sir. I’ll get started!”
The winged mutant let himself collapse into the back of the chair, sighing slightly and feeling that familiar nervousness in his gut that predated a huge decision. David was a good kid, thorough, and meticulous. Sure, his mutant powers gave him an unfair advantage among kids his age, but at the age of 23 with an M.B.A. from UCLA under his belt, he was the envy of everyone in the business world. Warren could only laugh at the implication; the press would surely eat him alive just finding out about this kid.