Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Half Cocked ❯ Six ( Chapter 6 )

Six

Matty was vaguely amused to sit near Heero and watch Blake. Blake's father had been in the military since before he was ever thought of, let alone conceived. He'd spent time with his father on base enough that he was comfortable with soldiers milling around.

"Yuy wants a count, a pepsi, and some food."

The soldier nodded, starting for the door.

"Bring drinks," Blake added, then turned back to Trowa. Trowa passed him the legal pad he'd been writing on, and Blake considered the list, taking the pencil.

"What?" Heero muttered, glancing sidelong at him.

"No one's commented that Blake doesn't have any rank."

"Shh, he's getting stuff done," Heero returned, kissing his cheek.

"I know, but it's funny," Matty nuzzled briefly at him, then looked back to the map Heero was clarifying. It was a picture from a satellite, taken the day before. "Isn't that part of it?" he pointed out a building.

"I can't tell," Heero returned, frowning at the screen. "I'm not seeing any paths here, but there are trees," he indicated the area between that building and the main set. "None of our guys have gotten out there."

"Get them to call Cardle or Raymond," Trowa muttered, turning to Blake. "I want them here two hours ago," he pointed at his vid.

"Okay," Blake ran through his mental list of names to figure out who the hell Cardle or Raymond even were. Hell, he hadn't known Trowa was into ops at all before that morning. "Uh...so get 25 on the line," he started to write quickly as he focused on a nearby soldier. "I don't care how you do it, just get it done. Get them hooked up to Barton's vid...and don't let them run you around."

"Sir," the soldier muttered, turning to a machine and starting to type.

"Get an update on Jin," Wufei instructed Blake.

Blake turned to the next soldier in the line, and the man nodded wordlessly, turning to disappear down the hall. They were running Jin through the testing programs on MS to see what knowledge he did have.

"I'm going for Sandrock," Quatre muttered, rising to his feet.

"No you're not," Blake returned, moving to stand in his path and meet his eyes. "Sit down, Brigadier."

Quatre stared at him.

"Quatre," Matty muttered, moving around to get in his path as well.

"Stand down," Quatre ordered the pair of them, eyes narrowing on Matty. "I'm ranking..."

"Bullshit," Blake retorted. "We're kids associated with the military, not actual soldiers. Sit down."

Quatre started to draw himself up.

"Duo won't want you to get Sandrock," Matty informed them seriously. "Duo thought Sandrock was a little much."

Quatre met his eyes.

"I don't want you to get Sandrock either," he added, moving forward...and starting to talk in a quiet voice.

Blake considered that a moment, then looked around to Wufei, who was blinking at him. He smiled slightly, then looked up to Heero. Heero was also blinking at him.

"So...if we can get the updates?" Blake turned back to look at the two remaining soldiers. "The information Une was sending."

"Right," one man muttered, then turned and disappeared.

The remaining soldier gave him a very level look.

"What?"

"You don't have any rank," the man noted. "How are you telling me what to do?"

"Barton wants you to," Blake returned, startled to be asked. No one else had said anything to him, and he was pretty sure they knew. It'd be funny if they didn't realize...

"My ass," the soldier growled. "Why would he..."

"I'll prove it," Blake returned easily. He turned and floated across the room—the others were back to their tasks. It included Matty talking to Quatre.

Blake moved up behind Trowa, placing his hands on the guy's shoulders.

"Hm?" Trowa looked up to him...and smiled as he leaned up to return the offered kiss.

The soldier was dumbfounded.

"You have horrible timing," Trowa informed him quietly, not noticing that...at least, Blake didn't think so. If he trained spies, he could notice all sorts of little things without letting anyone know it.

Blake was still a little miffed that the information had slipped Trowa's mind.

"Do you have any idea how much shit I'd get if I went off to the room with you?"

The younger snickered at that notion, amused, then kissed him again. He pushed away, then turned to look around at the soldier...who was blinking at him.

Trowa focused on the man as well, then snorted and gave Blake a very level look.

"He didn't believe that you wanted them to obey me," Blake shrugged innocently.

"Go get us food," Trowa ordered the man. "We got one after drinks and food for Yuy...but the rest of us are hungry too. Winner just needs a nutrient bar."

The man frowned at that, then nodded his head and disappeared.

"If he's gonna question you when I've been telling you what to do, he can be my bitch," Trowa kissed him. "Give me that..."

Blake passed him back the legal pad, then looked around the room.

"Cardle...oh, sir," a blond man was blinking at the screen. "What's up?"

"You wanna come to Peru?" Trowa asked happily. "I could use you here."

"It's a thought," the man returned, looking Blake over curiously—or maybe it was Blake's hand in Trowa's hair.

He removed it quickly and the man gave him a look that asked 'now why did you do that?'

"What are you doing?" Trowa muttered, glancing back at Blake as well. "Like...what orders?"

"I've been going over the information we've been given on Gerrange's network," he explained. "Trying to pin where the rest of it is—if there is any. Personally, I think they're all with him now."

"Wouldn't that be convenient," Trowa noted dryly rolling his eyes. "Keep on the ready, pack your bags just in case. I may need you here, parachute-style."

"Through the atmosphere," Blake noted dryly. "Through a lack of gravity, and the atmosphere."

"Evidently I'm a super man," Cardle studied Blake over with interest. "Who are you?"

"Mine," Trowa retorted, extending a hand for the disconnect. "Just be ready and keep doing your job."

Cardle's eyes flashed with monetarily wild amusement as Trowa disconnected the line. As his picture disappeared, his mouth was open like he was trying to talk.

Blake gave the man an interested look, surprised.

"What?" Trowa protested. "He's gay or bi or something."

Blake raised an eyebrow, debating how best to approach the matter.

"So," Trowa decided it would be most expedient to move on. "What else did I get you to do for me? Because you really have no rank, and I want to know just how far your confidence got you."

Blake started snickering.

"I found...his phone," Wufei said with interest. "He fried it."

They all turned to look at him instantly.

"It's barely got power left, I think, and it has nothing for feedback."

"Where?" Heero pressed, looking over to Wufei's screen. "Coordinate that with my map."

Wufei clicked a few buttons, then moved over to the machine Heero was working on and started to type.

"Wong Jinli is doing the mechanics study," one of the soldiers they'd sent running noted happily, moving into the room. "Here are the results we have for him," he offered the paper to Blake.

"Thank you, take a rest," Blake muttered, looking blankly at the sheet. It really meant nothing to him.

Trowa snatched it from him, considering it a moment, then grinned and extended his arm. Quatre took the thing and stared at it blankly...then offered it as well.

Wufei snatched it, clicking a few more buttons.

"Well that's nice and inconvenient," Heero muttered irritably. "I really wanted to just go in and grab him."

"We will," Wufei returned, shifting back...and staring at the paper.

"So...how many of your childhood friends survived?" Trowa asked sweetly. "Because this one, at least, seems trained up rather well."

Wufei raised his eyes to stare at Trowa.

Trowa smirked.

- -

Heero sat back as Gerrange's rather smug image appeared on the screen, arms crossed as he lounged back in his chair.

"I hope you don't mind my delay in response," Gerrange muttered happily to them. "I wasn't intending to put it off this far, but I'm afraid I'd gotten distracted wile organizing our stores."

"The ones you mean to rob, or the ones you already have?" Trowa demanded dryly, shoving Blake away from the camera-front as he tried to move forward to see the other man.

"Who was that?" Gerrange asked blankly, looking in the direction.

"Just a soldier," Trowa returned indifferently.

Gerrange considered Trowa a moment, then turned and gestured behind himself.

The screen split, and an image of Duo came onto the screen. He was wearing the military-issue cargo jeans and a dark-green t-shirt he'd disappeared in, and his arms were behind his back. He was glaring at a person in the room with him, though, not the camera.

Quatre made a choked noise.

"I was debating how to use...the good General," Gerrange purred, looking back to the camera himself. "Quite the ante, don't you think?"

"No," Duo said in a calm voice. "We know better than that."

No one moved, no one responded.

Gerrange smiled slightly at that, tilting his head. "I knew I'd meet the high talk," he muttered. "So I arranged...a little...example."

Duo closed his eyes and took a very long and slow breath as the man in the room with Duo moved forward.

"Duo," Matty said urgently. "Tell Quatre not to do it...tell him not to..."

Duo focused on the camera...as a man moved in...and grabbed him.

Trowa's stomach churned as Duo tried not to cry out in pain. He forced himself to distance himself from that sound—from the anger and fear that tore at him to hear it...and sighed, shifting down in his seat.

"Interesting," Gerrange said quietly, studying them all. "Why is it that the only reaction is from the boy?" He shifted forward slightly as Duo cried out again, narrowing his eyes. "Oh, you're not!"

"Who's not what?" Trowa asked calmly. It was hard to pretend not to hear Duo, but one eye-flicker would give them away.

"Williams," Gerrange noted dryly. "What in the world are you doing there?"

"Burn in hell," Matty gasped back, then moved out of range of the camera to cling to Blake.

"I knew you were all assholes," Gerrange muttered dryly, looking back to them. "But this takes the cake...I suppose, if you don't care about him, I'll use him to my own advantage."

Heero raised his eyebrows almost curiously.

"He's going to break your coding, Yuy...or I'm going to kill him."

Heero smirked very slightly in response to that. "He's not that good."

"Quatre," Duo croaked, trying to force the pain out of his voice. "Quatre...don't...don't do it."

Quatre's eyes closed. "Do I have any choice?"

"I forbid it," Duo gasped...and that camera cut.

"Forbid what?" Gerrange asked with interest. "What was he talking about?"

"Me skinning you alive," Quatre returned, moving forward so his face took over the camera view. "You've pissed me off for the last time, Marshal. I will kill you."

Gerrange sneered at him...and ended the call.

"I'm going to sharpen my knives," Quatre informed them all almost distantly.

"Not get Sandrock?" Matty demanded.

"You don't want to talk to me right now, boy," Quatre growled, not looking over his shoulder at the younger man. "You do not want to talk to me right now."

Matty blinked.

Quatre swept from the room.

Heero gestured at the soldier to follow him, then looked around to Blake, narrowing his eyes.

"What?" Blake asked blankly.

"If you ever try and let Gerrange see you again, I will beat you."

Blake blinked at him.

"It's time to move," Heero added, rising to his feet and turning back to the computer he'd been at. He clicked a few buttons, and a send-bar showed up. "I don't know how bad off Duo is, and he can break my code. We don't want Gerrange into the files that we locked up. Let's move."

- -

Duo licked his lips as he finally managed to loop a link from his cuffs around a screw. He'd taken a fork from his food at one point and worked the thing out as much as he could manage and keep the support he needed. When Tannit had realized he'd kept a fork, he'd made sure he regretted it—rather, thought he'd made sure. Duo snorted slightly at the thought, dropping his head back to look out the window tiredly a long moment. The fact that Gerrange had finally declared himself to them all meant that the others would be coming for him. That meant he had to escape, put the base in chaos mode, and find somewhere to hide for the couple hours it would take to get the soldiers to them.

The only problem was that he hurt...all over. He'd gotten himself smacked quite hard a number of times, and the man had done his pressure or whatever it had been to both his arms and his legs. Just about the only two parts of his body that didn't hurt were his feet and his groin. He'd gotten kneed and punched a couple times in the nuts, but that tenderness had faded.

Duo bit at his lower lip and started to lean forward. It wasn't going to be easy to bend the metal...he wished Gerrange had decided on zip ties instead—but then again, Gerrange knew him, didn't he?

The next question was how to go about getting away. He was three or four stories above ground-level, and he doubted he'd be able to climb out the window. He hadn't seen a way to open it yet, and the advantage of sneaking away would be moot when the air conditioner kicked on at an unexpected time. So the other way was through the door, through the base, and into the jungle.

Wonderful...just fucking peachy.

Duo snarled, yanking at his arms.

He was going to bleed, of course...but he was going to bleed if he stayed in the base, too. He liked the notion of causing himself to bleed much better than that damned man doing it again.

He didn't have the time.

- -

Blake followed after Trowa, pulling his hat down around his head better before darting forward to catch his forearm. Trowa barely glanced back at him before intertwining their fingers. He nearly had to run to keep up, but watching as Matty half-ran made him feel a tiny bit better about that.

"Is Demigod working yet?" Trowa snapped at Wufei.

"It's too questionable to really try," Wufei returned, running a hand distractedly through his hair. "We haven't finished testing it—we're still not sure exactly what happened."

"So what's the plan of action? I obviously have Heavyarms, but who's taking Deathscythe?"

"Can't be Quatre," Heero noted, glancing sidelong at Wufei.

"You can repair shit pretty fast," Wufei noted.

"You're still sick—it's about time for you next dose, isn't it?"

"Duo doesn't really like people in his machine—we're close, it'll be less of an intrusion."

"I've fucked him before. Define intrusion."

Blake snickered.

"He was talking to me about his machine a day or two before this all went down."

"He gave me a detailed description of what he did."

"I'm better with scythe weapons—Nataku had them."

"Isn't that a Chinese mythical hero?" Blake asked blankly.

"It's also the chosen name of my wife," Wufei returned, meeting his eyes very pointedly.

Blake glanced sidelong at Jinli.

"Wife, idiot," Jinli retorted. "I'm no chick."

Blake blinked at that, looking back to Trowa.

Trowa shook his head very slightly. "I'll tell you about it later."

"I'm flying it," Wufei declared firmly. "I've been in suit several times in the last six months."

Heero made an irritated noise, but there wasn't much to say in response to that.

It was simple fact.

- -

Duo was glad that his hands weren't necessary for what he was doing, because they were slick with blood. He felt a vague sort of buzzing in his head, which impaired his thinking a bit, but was preferable to the pain he'd be in without it.

He jerked forward and started cursing. He'd thought he'd had the thing around the screw pretty good, but it wouldn't be the first time he managed to...

He blinked down as his arms spread and something small clattered away.

He'd really just broken those cuffs.

The smirk that crossed his face was wicked as he considered the blood all over his hands. He shook his head irritably at that and wiped them front and back on the cargos as he stood, looking around.

There had been a chance that he was under surveillance...and with how casually he'd just broken that...

There was a commotion in the hall.

Yay! Bad-guys!

Duo snorted, looking around the room. Window or door? The door was locked...and the only thing in the room was a small table that was more along the lines of a tv-tray than anything else. That wouldn't make breaking the window easy...

But what choice did he have?

Duo nodded to himself, then looked up to the camera and smirked. He moved across the room to lift the little table...and swung at the dome encircling the machine. It took him a moment to manage it, then he hopped onto the shelf and jumped. He caught the actual camera, and gravity pulling him down ripped it from the ceiling with him. He smirked and turned...and threw the thing at the window.

Nothing happened...it just made a really loud noise.

Ah well, he'd actually expected that much. If he couldn't break the thing, he'd have to fight the soldiers...either way, his hands were free and he had a weapon in the form of a table.

He went to work on the window.

- -

"Gerrange just told the gundam pilots he's gonna use the one he's got to hack the military system," a female officer hissed to her two friends. "I've been asking around, and no one else who wants to leave is still here. I think the ESA is gonna cap this operation in about five minutes, so we might want to leave."

"Right," the second female whispered back, looking around. "Should we try to get that man? I kinda like the idea of pissing Rab off..."

"Are you kidding?" the first female demanded blankly. "He doesn't let anyone but that specials man talk to Maxwell—I brought food in to him one day and they told me that if I even met his eyes they'd flay me...Rab doesn't want anyone listening to him."

"So no?" the other asked. "We don't try?"

"No," she agreed dryly. "What we can do, though, is go hit up the medical supplies."

The three women looked to each other nervously, then nodded...and started for the buildings.

Chances were that the place would be leveled before sunset. They probably wouldn't miss a couple boxes of medication.

- -

Duo cursed as the cuff caught onto an extended bolt, looking around the area as he did so. He was on the third floor—just hanging outside the building and trying to figure out how to get down without getting shot.

With the metal cuffs on his wrist and blood all over his arms, not to mention the bruising along his arms, there was no doubting he'd be recognized on sight by most as the enemy their beloved leader had caught.

It was too bad he couldn't get his weapon back...but at the same time, it wasn't his good one. He'd left that in his duffel.

It was like he knew everything was going to go to shit before they even started. He'd even backed up his phone before they started working on Deathscythe, and hadn't gotten a call after that.

Off-task, he wondered what Reg would think of him dangling from the side of an enemy base—or Quatre, for that matter. Lu would be informing him he didn't deserve more if he'd gotten himself caught like a novice in the paint-ball arena...and Zechs would probably be laughing.

How was Zechs? How was Lu? Hell, what did they think of him going missing?

He lowered himself carefully down the wall...and lost his grip.

Falling three stories...he was an idiot.

He caught the lip around the edge of the ground level, and his fingers caught on the rough-stone that made the area up. He was barely able to catch his momentum before he plummeted, but after three or four days of torture, his arms couldn't stand it, let alone his hands. He tumbled the last few feet to the ground, grunting.

Well...that hurt.

He let his head clear, then pushed himself up...he was either still in the clear, or had given up the game. There hadn't been enough of a reaction when he finally managed to shatter the window, the commotion he'd heard in the hall hadn't led to anything.

Whatever was going on, it evidently wasn't about him.

Duo shoved himself away from the building, stumbling a few steps before managing to regain at least most of himself.

The question became what sort of chaos did he need to set off? He wanted it to take everyone as long as possible to even realize he'd disappeared, so...that meant...fire?

He looked around the area, then headed for an outlying building.

After giving himself a few minutes to re-gather himself, he'd take his next step...and hopefully not get caught.

- -

"We're maybe an hour away," Trowa noted to the soldier he'd called up. "You might want to vacate the premise."

"But, Sir...our integrity..."

"You're in a ghost-town," Trowa snapped back, fingering the bruise in the soft tissue between his neck and shoulder. Blake had noted that a sweet-soft kiss good-bye wasn't either of their style...and had shoved him against the wall with the aggression of it. The back of Trowa's head had ached for a while after leaving, and it hadn't helped that Blake had totally ran his fingers up into his hair like that...kissed him sweetly once...and bit him. "It just doesn't know it's dead yet."

"Sir..."

"Are you questioning my orders?" Trowa growled.

"Uh...no," the man said quietly. "Do you want me to find the others?"

"You're the last one," Trowa reassured him. "I called them already. You need to make your escape, pronto."

The guy sighed. "Yes, sir."

"I love your enthusiasm, soldier," Trowa retorted. "I'll keep it in mind if we ever need a suicide bomber."

The man snorted and hung up.

Trowa rolled his eyes, closing the communication screen.

That had to be an awesome bruise. He'd never realized that Blake could take charge, let alone like that. When they got back, he was totally finding a way to get himself and Blake a room for the night.

He grinned slightly and shook his head. Matty had clung to him hard before hissing in his ear that they needed to get this shit settled before Heero fixed Demigod.

The only problem with Jinli joining their group for the fighting was that it left Matty and Blake unguarded after Heero left. Quatre didn't have enough scope to check soldiers for a double-cross...but there had been a few men he'd liked. There'd been a handful that he'd kept finding...and they were going to be set to guard the room the group of them were sharing in pairs.

Matty and Blake had a game console, a couple games, and food for three days in that room. The luck had it that there was a very small bathroom beside the closet—and even though Trowa was pretty sure the closet was bigger, it meant that they had everything they needed to camp out when Heero took off.

Hopefully this didn't take more than the day. He couldn't commit fully to Heero staying behind to keep the boys safe...but he didn't like the notion of prolonging this nonsense anymore than he had to.

Trowa rubbed at the sore spot again, looking around the cockpit a moment, then over at Deathscythe—then at Wufei's screen on the far-right panel. It was in the bottom left corner.

"What?" Wufei muttered, glancing up at him.

"I was just thinking it's weird to see that machine and your picture."

"It handles oddly—like Duo."

"You know how to handle Duo?" Trowa asked blankly.

"Oh sure," Wufei agreed easily. "I can handle you, can't I?"

"That's a subject for debate."

"Well...it's not like we have anything else to do right now."

"Good point...I'm just too egotistic to argue."

"Because you know I'll win."

- -

Duo broke his last molotov cocktail in the engine of a humvee and looked to the sky. He prayed very hard that what he was doing wasn't going to start a huge forest fire or kill him...then lit a match. He stared at the fire a long moment, then carefully lowered the match to the piece of paper he had wedged in the middle of the engine...and ran for it.

His impromptu fuse wasn't exactly tested. He didn't know how far he was going to make it before the fire reached the edge of the paper, or how large an explosion might result from that vehicle...but he was pretty sure he'd be okay in the trees.

He hoped.

From his routing around in the little shed, all he'd been able to find was oil for lawn-equipment—but accelerants made fire big, and cars tended to have gasoline, which was also an accelerant.

The rest had been random luck or a stupid-smoker. He didn't care, maybe it was both...it probably suited both better. A stupid smoker left his box of matches behind for him to find, and then use, to destroy a car.

He seemed to do that a lot, in retrospect.

Outside the base, there weren't many people, and considering that his shirt was soaked with sweat, he wasn't horribly surprised. What he didn't like was the fact that the building had plenty of windows in it. It was obviously an old office building of some sort, and the modifications to a base had been retrofitted. That meant someone could see him from above—not to mention he'd broken the window.

Maybe the guys were coming with their gundams. That could possibly account for his escape being as successful as it had been so far...

He heard the fire hiss into life behind him and dived for the tree-line...as the ground shook. The sound of the machine exploding was deafening...as part of the burning mass landed on top of yet another humvee.

Duo smirked at the machines a brief moment, then darted further into the trees.

If he got bit by something here, it would probably be game over...and his sweat had to attract bugs...

He hated jungles.

The second humvee roared into fire, and he glanced back to consider it a moment, then decided to focus on running.

He doubted his absence would be neglected much longer...and it wouldn't do to be caught at this stage in the game—it wouldn't do at all.

- -

Julie stumbled sideways into Amanda as a huge explosion tore through the air—they'd thought they'd heard one already...so what was that?

"We should just run," Jennifer hissed, snapping the backpack of supplies she'd stolen to her back. "I think we need to just get out of here."

The other two women nodded, securing their bags as well...and started for the jungle. The transport back to Illicit was waiting on the river...and there was no one around the base for a few miles to see them—the fighting that had gone on when Illicit had first landed had guaranteed that.

The run through the woods was accompanied by the siren finally sounding the alarm—though for the explosions, their thievery, or the approaching attack, the three didn't know.

Their bags were crammed with Remalene, gauze, and painkillers. They'd each grabbed as much as they could to cram into their packs...and hopefully the president would appreciate it. None of the council had seemed to mind the food and water they'd been filching so far.

Rab's people weren't so hot at keeping track of those little details.

Coming up to the transport stopped their hearts, though, because there were three men standing at the edge of it...and they pointed weapons at the three women.

"That's ours!" Julie hissed, moving for it. "We're just going to go...park it..."

"This is a transport to Illicit," one of the men noted, keeping the weapon leveled at her. "We need to get to Illicit—or at least away."

The six people blinked back and forth at each other blankly before the sound of shouting started behind them.

"Get on!" Julie snapped, darting for the door. "We're the last here..."

They darted into the machine, and Julie darted for the helm...before nearly falling over as she tried to stop. There was a man sitting in front of the controls, and he looked like he'd been to hell and back...and he had a gun.

"Considering the look of panic on that pretty face of yours," he noted almost laconically, "I'm assuming this is your craft."

"Brigadier Maxwell?" one of the men demanded in utter astonishment. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Out here!" the call came from the jungle. "In the river!"

The man's eyes widened and he pushed himself to his feet.

Julie didn't have time to wait.

"No! I need to stay here!" the man protested, turning on her as she took the chair.

"Brigadier Barton ordered us to get the fuck out of here," the man who'd spoken before noted. "And I sure as hell am not letting you hurt these ladies."

The man stared at him.

Julie started the engine. "Hold onto something!" she ordered over her shoulder...and hit the accelerator.