GADEM Medical Services Branch HQs - on the grounds of Sandia National Laboratories, NM (note: the MAIN GADEM HQs' is in Washington, D.C.; Medical Services is a subordinate branch w/in GADEM's organizational structure)

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Let's see if we find out what makes you tick, shall we? Dr. MacMillan said quietly, looking down towards the scientific chamber below. It was one of many such chambers located on the grounds of GADEM's Medical Sciences Branch and its main facility, a sprawling campus more befitting of a research university than a government installation. On the surface, the scientific chamber looked like the kind of surgical operating room one might find in a modern hospital and Joe, having an M.D. to his name, had gone through the requisite surgical internship years ago when he'd been a mere intern at LDS intermountain. Now, he was a top-level geneticist with GADEM Medical Services Branch; his job? Find out what made the X-gene click..what was it that allowed mutants to activate and use their powers and, more importantly, how could they shut it off? Could they find a drug or a genetic treatment for it? What were the risks to mankind, to society, if they did so?

These were among the questions he and his team of doctors strove to answer, day after day, year after year, strove to answer, all under the guidance and support of the MSB's boss, GADEM Deputy Director for Medical Sciences Dr. Aram Jurie, a man whom it was said could instill fear in those below him on the ladder; indeed, as Joe often joked to colleagues at Sandia Pathogenics (the cover name for the main facility), "I believe in God....and Dr. Jurie scares the hell out of me." It was hard, painstaking work but it all had a scientific purpose, to protect and defend humanity from the mutant scourge. It was a position Dr. MacMillan passionately supported and believed in, right down to his soul.

In this case, he was watching as a team of GADEM technicians brought in a mutant, restrained and wearing an Inhibitor Collar around his neck, and strapped him down to a medical exam table, perched up so that it would appear he was sitting somewhat upright. As the technicians began drawing vials of blood from the subject, he brought up the subject's file, whispering as he took notes. "Subject #37061-AL was originally apprehended by local authorities near Tuscaloosa, Alabama following a mutant episode; subject was turned over to GADEM soon afterward and sent to GDF (GADEM Detention Facility) Huntsville," pausing as he looked over the events there. "Subject committed numerous infractions while at Huntsville and was then transferred to GDF Marion-NC, then after several infractions at that location, subject was transferred to the custody of GADEM Medical Sciences," stopping as he turned and watched the mutant captive attempt to break out of his restraints. How quaint, he mused, turning back to his notes.

It sounded could of him to say that, but it didn't really bother him; to him, raised in a mainline Mormon family back in Salt Lake City, non-mutant mankind was superior to their mutant cousins and it was man's duty and responsibility to ensure that it stayed that way, through whatever means were necessary. He knew the basic list but he also knew the research he and his scientists and doctors did here at Sandia Pathogenics helped in that respect; it didn't bother him whatsoever. A cold attitude but if it meant ensuring man's supremacy over mutants, he had no problem with it. He knew what the press - especially the pro-mutant chattering classes - often said about GADEM; most days, he just shrugged it off as if brushing stray droplets of water from a raincoat, that's how little he thought of it most days.

Suddenly, his attention was diverted back to the theatre below him as the mutant attempted once more to break free of his restraints; one of the technicians called out over the intercom, "Sir, we're having trouble holding him down; what do we do?"

"Knock the subject out and take him back to Isolation," Dr. Macmillan replied, sitting back down in his chair and picturing the scene below. He'd seen it multiple times before and it amused him to no end. Why do these mutants continue to fight us? he often pondered. Why don't they realize they'll never be our equals; why don't they just accept the inevitable and assume their inferior place once and for all?