Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Amazing Grace ❯ General Heero Yuy ( Chapter 2 )

Amazing Grace

Chapter 2--General Heero Yuy

 

It seemed a lifetime before anyone talked to her. Soldiers came and went, and never even glanced her way. Relena saw no other women in the camp. Just men who moved slowly, lazily in the September sun. Some did chores, carrying laundry baskets and armfuls of wood; others just stretched in the rising autumn heat. Camp life did not appear to be too stressful.

 

Finally, someone poked his head in. "I've been told to ask you if you want some food or coffee."

 

Her growling stomach gave the answer. "Both would be nice. But I can't eat this way." Relena nodded toward her bound and chafed hands.

 

"I suppose I will have to feed you." The soldier was young, fair of face, with blond hair and blue eyes. His uniform coat was tan, loose brown suspenders held up ill-fitting trousers, and he, too, was devoid of shoes.

 

Momentarily, he returned with a beat-up tin plate. On it was a yellow clump and something hard. Relena saw a long, furry insect crawling on top of the food, and she screamed, triggering the young soldier to toss the plate. As it flew into the air, its contents, including the uninvited breakfast guest, spilled onto the ground with a clatter.

 

The boy stamped his foot. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry miss.”

 

"What was that--that thing--on the plate?"

 

"Insects are quite common here. You move 'them out of the way and the food isn't so bad." He motioned with his hands how the process was done, though his face told her that he didn't find it very appetizing either.

 

Her stomach turned over once and she thought she might throw up. How could they eat this way and then fight a war? It would be a wonder if the Rebels won, important victories or not. "Can you tell me what's going on here? I have to go home."

 

"I can't tell you anything', ma'am, I'm sorry. You're a spy."

 

"I am not a spy. You must believe me."

 

"Just tell me what you know about us. Maybe the general will go easier on you ma'am."

 

"I don't know anything, I swear. I don't work for anyone. This is a mistake. I don't belong here."

 

Leaving the plate and food on the floor, he sadly shrugged and left the tent. She thought about what she had just said to the young soldier as he walked with purposeful strides toward his comrades--I don't belong here...And again she was reminded of her husband Charles, escaping through the woods, most likely hooking up with another member of the spy ring.

 

How could she have been so blind? Practically under her nose, her husband had been gaining secrets from the Alliance, selling them to the Rebels, then selling what he had learned from the Rebels back to the Alliance. If he got off easy, he would be hanged as a traitor; but if not, he would be running all his life until he found someone he could trust. Relena hoped for the former.

 

Relena began to cry, she had to be careful. Obviously, she was being implicated in her husband's crime. When would she ever see her family again? Her mother? Her father? Was she truly all alone?

 

She had never been so scared. Her whole life--everything she had become, everything she had worked so hard for--was at stake. Relena had to find out what was going on.

 

"Miss Peacecraft, isn't it?"

 

Relena looked up at the man, tears still brimming in the corners of her blue eyes. He bent down and wiped them away with a dirty white handkerchief he returned to his pocket. The man was young with chestnut hair tied back in a long unusual braid, and sparkling violet-blue eyes. He wore an officer's uniform, with a belt buckled over the heavy gray jacket and a black leather pouch slung diagonally across his body. His uniform coat was dirty, as if he had been walking in the dust for a long time.

 

She thought it safer to stick with her maiden name. "Yes?" There was red piping on his sleeves, which swirled up both arms in an intricate design and reminded her of clef notes on a bar of music.

 

"So," he sat authoritatively in the desk chair. "I hope you haven't been too uncomfortable."

 

"No, I mean, yes. I don't understand why I'm here. I didn't do anything wrong. I apologized to the man back there, told him I knew I was in the wrong place..."

 

"I'll say."

 

"...but he still did this." She nodded at herself.

 

The young man snickered and Relena was insulted. She wasn't lying. Someone had to believe her. Her life depended on it.

 

"You're putting on a good act, Miss Peacecraft, but I know you're a spy. You won't be leaving here until you tell me what I need to know. And if you don't tell me, I'll just ship you into the General and well, you wouldn't want that, trust me."

 

"I'm not a spy!"

 

"I know you are. I saw what you were writing. Charles must be a name of an accomplice. That's what I need to know. Tell me what you know of our position!"

 

"That's from my journal. It has nothing to do with anyone but me."

 

He dragged his chair across the uneven ground until he was sitting in front of her. "Tell me the truth and you won't get hurt."

 

Her breathing became ragged. "If you honestly think I'm a spy, then you're a fool!"

 

“Watch your tone," he snapped angrily.

 

She took a moment to compose herself, "Please tell me who you are? What camp this is?"

 

"I'm Duo Maxwell, aide-de-camp for the First Corps, Army of Stockholm."

 

Appeal to his reason. "If I was a spy, wouldn't I have known that?"

 

"Who's saying you didn't?"

 

She sighed. "I'm saying I didn't. I don't even know where I am."

 

"Tell me where you came from."

 

"England."

 

"Uh huh..." Duo was shaking his head.

 

Relena knew she was prosecuting herself. He must have read the September 15th Oslo paper where 'Broken English Spy Ring' was in bold print. "That doesn't mean I'm a spy, Major..."

 

"Captain, ma'am. I'm Captain Maxwell."

 

"That doesn't make me a spy, Captain."

 

"It's quite a ways from England to Scandinavia. How did you happen to get here?"

 

"I-I was visiting the area."

 

"At a time like this?"

 

Be quiet, Relena, a voice inside told her, you are only making things worse. "I was with my husband. We had a disagreement. He left me--on that road back there." Not quite a lie...

 

The captain's face softened. "I'm sorry about that ma'am. But he left you in the wrong place. Do you have relatives in Oslo?"

 

"No, he's conducting business here."

 

"What kind of business?"

 

How long was this questioning to last? Would he ever let up? Relena felt stupid not knowing the nature of her own husband's business. There had to be a front for Baltair Enterprises. "I don't know, Major-I mean, Captain. I don't get involved with my husband's work. All I know is he's in business for himself."

 

"I see. I'm sorry, but I didn't notice a wedding ring." He lifted Relena's now-dirty hand.

 

She yanked it away. "I took it off last night. In our hotel. I must not have put it back on." In truth, Relena could not remember removing it. Had Charles stolen it from her hand during the night? She was shaking. "He-he's probably come back for me already. Heaven knows what he'll do if I'm not where he left me."

 

Duo shook his head and smiled, then reached over and untied her hands. "I can see I'm not getting anywhere with you." Gratefully, Relena rubbed her sore wrists where red marks had already formed. He took her by the arm and led her outside. It was humid and she was hungry. Hungry enough to share a bite with any insects that came along. Men formed for drill along a central dirt area. The sergeant shouted orders and the lines of six to eight obeyed.

 

"Where are you taking me?"

 

"To see the General."

 

She stopped, feet planted firmly on the soft ground. Duo had proudly bragged about the harsh general. Relena had no intention of going graciously to the slaughter.

 

"Come on." His grip tightened.

 

"Get your hands off me!" Relena yelled loudly, knowing she was making a scene, feeling the stares of the enlisted men. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I've got rights..."

 

Duo was angry and his ivory-handled pistol came out of its sheath, and poked mercilessly into her side. "Please Miss Peacecraft." He emphasized his point with a shove.

 

"Duo." A slow drawl. "That's enough, thank you."

 

The captain snapped to attention and gave the man at the door a sharp salute. The man saluted back, reached out a hand, and helped Relena to her feet.

 

"Have a seat, Miss Peacecraft." He gestured to the neatly-made cot. "Thank you, Duo You're relieved."

 

"Yes, sir." Spinning on his foot, Duo left the tent, blushing, embarrassed by his impulsive actions.

 

Relena shivered, looked around. The trunk across from her was open and folded over the side was a gray officer's coat. An armoire was to her left--also open--and inside, shirts hung on pegs. Above the armoire was a elaborately carved pipe, a box of matches, and a framed picture of a woman. Relena wondered if she was his wife. Beneath the picture was a lace doily.

 

Then she gazed at the man. He was imposing, broadly built, and wore a crisp white shirt and a gray vest over his regulation gray pants. He bent down, picked up the papers that had fallen from the desk and the tan felt hat she landed on.

 

"Nearly took care of my hat." He said, coaxing it back into shape.

 

"I'm sorry." She could barely speak. "Your captain pushed me."

 

"Don't worry about it. Captain Maxwell gets carried away sometimes, but I'd trust no one else to get the job done. Other than that small display of force, are you alright?"

 

"I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree, General..."

 

"Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself. I'm General Heero Yuy." He bowed, brandishing the rumpled hat. "Commander of the First Corps, Army of Stockholm."

 

A deep breath. "I'm not a spy, General Yuy."

 

"It would be better for you if you told the truth now. There might not be a later."

 

"I am telling the truth."

 

"I wish I could believe someone as lovely as you, ma'am. But I'm forced by my better judgement not to." He pulled the desk chair near her and sat down. "What Captain Maxwell may have done will be nothing compared with the punishment you'll receive if you keep up this charade. You're obviously with the Alliance, and one found right in the middle of a Rebel picket line. You were carrying a book filled with very peculiar notes. If you were in my shoes, Miss Peacecraft, what would you believe?"

 

Relena looked to the canopy and sighed. Her shoulder was throbbing and an ache had formed over her left eye. "My husband and I had a disagreement. He deserted me by your picket line. That's what I told your captain and it's the truth!"

 

"Where did you see what your book describes?"

 

"On that road back there."

 

Heero laughed. His Prussian blue eyes glistened in the dim light that filtered through the tent, half obscured by unruly brown bangs. He was a handsome man. "Try again, Miss Peacecraft."

 

"General Zechs Marquise is a cousin of mine. If I could just..."

 

"I don't remember Zechs mentioning any relatives."

 

"Take me to him."

 

He leaned toward her. "You're in no position to make demands. I'll ask again. Where did you see what your book describes?"

 

Relena did not answer--could not. She did not know what to say next. No one was going to believe she was anything but a spy captured in enemy territory. Her story about Zechs wasn't working, and neither was her story about a husband who deserted her, even though for all intensive purposes, that one was true. She had to escape, find her way back to the road, and pray that her husband felt guilty enough to return before she was killed.

 

"I-I need to stretch my legs. Can I?"

 

"I won't let you walk alone. But I'll grant your request. Captain Barton!"

 

A different young man entered the tent. He was neat where Duo was dirty; close-shaven as well. His long brown bangs obscured one of is green eyes as he appraised silently Relena. "Yes General?"

 

"Trowa, Miss Peacecraft needs to stretch her legs. Accompany her on a walk around the camp."

 

"Yes, sir. Right this way, Miss Peacecraft."

 

They walked shoulder to shoulder around the perimeter of the camp. Trowa was a gentleman, talking trivialities with her, showing her the mess tent, the surgeon's station, the post office, the common area where troops drilled. He informed her that Heero was strict about drills and musters between engagements.

 

Relena saw a group of trees coming up to their left--the perfect cover if she could get away. They were full, thick pine trees; dense and dark. She breathed easier as an idea formed. "Captain, I think I dropped my handkerchief back there a ways. Could you get it for me? It's well--sentimental."

 

"Of course. I'll only be a moment."

 

As soon as he strayed from her, she bolted, like lightening, into the trees. It was easy at first. She tripped three times over roots jutting from the ground, but quickly regained her balance. Then the first bullet whizzed by her ear. Soon another hit a branch above her head, showering pine needles on her. It took everything she had not to scream. Footsteps other than her own were behind her. Closer. Closer. Relena could see the light at the other end of the forest! She was almost there.

 

Down she went, to the ground. Rolling on the leaves. The wind knocked out of her. Rifles positioned against her head. Her hands were wrestled to her back and tied. Groans, low and pitiful, escaped her throat. It was all over now.

 

"Come on, spy!" A group of soldiers dragged her to Trowa.

 

Other voices joined in. "Yeah, see if you try that again! A woman trying to make a fool out of us. Not a chance!"

 

The shouts were worse than real fists coming down on her. She felt crushed, suffocated. As she was thrust at Trowa, she noticed the disappointed look on his face. She had betrayed his trust, the general's, too. There was no way they would leave her alone again.

 

"I've got her. You're relieved. Go back about your duties." Trowa held tight to her trembling arm.

 

Heero stood at the doorway of his tent, arms crossed over his chest. He was waiting. He had seen the whole show. "Bring her here, Captain."

 

Trowa saluted before he left Relena with the general. Heero was too calm, too deliberate. It scared her. "That was a stupid thing to do, Miss Peacecraft."

 

She didn't answer.

 

"If you ever expected me to believe your story, why did you try to run?"

 

She still didn't answer, and he continued. "You're only proving your guilt. I can hang you!" His face was close to hers. She smelled lye soap and cigar smoke. The general turned, hands behind his back and paced his tent. "I think maybe we should visit General Treize. I can defer you to his judgement." Heero reminded her of Pontius Pilate in the New Testament of the Bible. I wash my hands of you. "Or I could keep you here. There'll be a fight soon. Maybe I'll let you watch your Alliance being slaughtered--a slaughter that could have included my men had you reached your contact. How would that be?"

 

Relena's eyes grew wide. He would not, could not force her to watch a battle. Her imagination had already run wild from the hundreds of vivid newspaper accounts printed in all the papers. The nightmares kept her awake.

 

"What do you think about that?" He repeated. His hand was raised as if he'd strike her. "Answer me!" The general roared.

 

His expression alone was frightening, as he shook in fury. Feeling faint, Relena dropped to the floor, crying, shaking, begging him to stop.

 

"Duo!" Heero yelled, furious. "Take her! Find her a tent!"

 

Duo had seen the whole thing: her escape, her capture; had heard it all: the yelling, her shrill wail. The aide did not salute, only stared. Relena was trembling so violently, she was unable to stand on her own, so he picked her up, feeling an odd sensation in his gut. Never had Duo witnessed Heero lose his temper with a woman. The general was usually the model of charm in front of the opposite sex.

 

Placing her in an empty tent, the one used for visiting dignitaries, Duo left her alone.

 

 

Heero paced, kicked the desk chair, heard the leg splinter. Paced again. Damn! What had gotten into him? He never behaved that way before. He relived those few moments as if they were stages of a major battle: first the probing, the advance skirmish; then the reply, the beginnings of the battle; and finally the retreat--she had tried to escape! He had done everything possible to make her comfortable: offered her food, untied her chafed hands, gave her the opportunity to walk when and where she wanted, extended to her every hospitality--and yet she had still betrayed him! But then again she was only a spy--so what did it matter? He would have expected nothing more from trash. Why, then, did he feel so guilty?

 

He had always gotten what he wanted from women. They were enthralled with him. He was charming, dashing, handsome--and an officer in the Rebel Army, all the criteria that made the fair sex routinely melt at his feet. But Relena Peacecraft was different. She didn't melt. She was strong. Her own person. Where had she come from? Certainly not the Rebels; even the Alliance failed to produce a crop like her.

 

Heero saw Duo walk quickly past his tent, and sensed something in the staff officer. Was he taken by her? Did he look down on his commanding officer for his distasteful display of emotion? "Captain!"

 

"Yes?"

 

"How is the prisoner?"

 

"Don't know yet, sir. She ain't saying much."

 

"Well, let me know."

 

"I will…erm…sir." Duo wasn't really one for formalities.

 

The general saluted lazily and leaned against the pole that held the tent upright. If his wife had seen his behavior with Relena Peacecraft, she would have left him. Something crawled inside his usually stolid soul, something peculiar. He didn't not believe the young woman. As a matter of protocol, he had no proof for or against her case.

 

He was tired. That had to explain why she frustrated him so easily. Couldn't she have tried to help herself? Couldn't she see that she was forcing him to kill her? He did not want another drop of blood on his hands!

 

Grabbing his coat and hat, he briskly walked up the hill, past the orchards and fields, past the barn and house, to his horse. The brown mare was tied inside a split rail fence. Duo, Trowa, Quatre, and Wufei kept their horses there as well. Numerous pairs of eyes gleamed in the early morning sunlight, acting as beacons for him to slowly climb over the fence and jump on.

 

"Where are you going, sir?" Trowa appeared next to him and held the bridle in his hand.

 

"Out of my way, Captain."

 

"Heero? Sir?"

 

"Let go of my horse and keep an eye on her. Make sure she stays here this time. I'll be back soon."

 

Trowa's face did not mask his confusion. Heero was never one for spontaneous acts. Just taking his horse for a morning ride was not in his nature. Who was this Relena Peacecraft and why, in such a short time, had she turned the camp upside-down?