Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Devil's Due ❯ - 02 - ( Chapter 2 )

— 02 —

October 14, A.C. 204. Base. 7:15pm

"Oh, hey, Chai," Wufei muttered, having leaned forward from the hand on top of his head. "What's going on?"

"I told Paris I'd come down," Chai explained, looking the room over. "What are you doing in here?"

"Morgan and I have everything we need for a study except a volunteer," Wufei explained, indicating the curious male he and his friend had accosted. "We're trying for people we don't know, but these guys aren't biting."

"It's not that I'm against it," the man protested with a frown. "I just can't get a clear reading from you."

"What?" Wufei demanded of him in mild disbelief.

"There are too many people in here," he shrugged. "I'm not as strong as Winner. I get too much interference."

Morgan, who was sitting beside Wufei, started scribbling in a spiral-notebook.

"Why is that interesting?" the guy demanded, blinking at him.

"We're trying to come up with a better solution than throwing you all in one building," Wufei explained, indicating the room. "I mean...you all have emotions yourselves. If we can come up with some way to..." he was focused on his hands, which were in some form of sign language that made no sense, as he thought. "To..."

"If we can figure out exactly what it is you're doing," Morgan offered, "then we can figure out a better way to interrupt it."

For a brief moment the man's eyes went outraged, but then he actually thought about that.

"So you need a clear reading from him before you decide?" Chai asked curiously, considering the room. There were people scattered all over it quietly playing games of chess or looking at magazines. They weren't being very social, and she noted a few quietings here or there.

"Well," the man looked slightly embarrassed, "I just don't want to be made fool of."

Considering that Quatre himself had been fooled in the past, and that he was on the stronger end of the empath pool, the statement seemed a bit silly to the dark haired female, but she let it go...and focused.

The man's eyes went huge as he stared at her, then looked the rest of the room over.

"What did you...do?" Wufei asked, focusing on the girl.

"I'm blocking the rest of the room out."

"Chai, you're a genius," Morgan muttered, starting to write quickly again.

The man was still staring at her in disbelief.

"Oh come on," she protested. "Read Chang so I can go find Marks."

"He's up in the quieting room," the guy muttered, then thought a moment and looked back to the men in front of him. He was silent a long moment before he finally nodded and sat forward to extend a hand to Wufei.

"Yes! Haha!" Wufei's laugh was something akin to childish naughtiness as he shook the man's hand and Morgan extended his. "I love you, Chai."

"He means it, too," the guy noted.

Chai grinned at him, ruffling his hair before turning and starting toward the stairs.

- -

October 15, A.C. 204. Vigo, Spain. 4am

Mouthy drummed his fingertips on his counter-top impatiently. There was only one problem with calling Jon Breer for help, and that problem was that they hadn't set up any pre-plans for the borrow. Jon didn't owe Xane a single favor, and they were hardly even friends. Mouthy was generally told to keep away from the mafioso. He knew Jordan would be annoyed with him for the contact, but he didn't exactly have a choice. He had to have a legit source of dirty money.

That idea amused him terribly.

The vid buzzed.

Xane hit the button before it could make any more noise, staring wide eyed at the man.

"Your hair is bizarre, do you know that?" Jon asked curiously. He was holding a champagne glass negligently in one hand as he moved to drop into his chair. It was a ways across the room from the vid.

"It's called a disguise," the spy retorted. "I don't want to be recognized. Are you frontin' me or not?"

"That's a large sum of money, baby," Jon noted, studying him with sparkling eyes. "What's in it for me?"

"What's it worth to you?" Xane retorted.

Jon raised his eyebrows very slightly.

Xane frowned at him, considering what he had to offer...aside from something that would be fairly obvious if you considered the fact that Jon was frequently pressing Jor to let him have a night with the guy.

"I was talking around," Jon added, studying him. "Talked to a guy who said...maybe. Said he wouldn't leave me hanging...but..."

The light over the keypad flashed, indicating another call, and a moment later, the caller I.D. flashed up Jordan's number.

"Hate to cut you off, Jon, but I have to take this," Xane noted, and hit the button.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jordan asked darkly.

"Getting funds," Mouthy returned. "What?"

"You know the damn situation," Jordan retorted irritably as he drummed his fingertips on his counter. "You know that Jon has been dying to get one up on me."

"He's on the other line and I need funds," Xane retorted, crossing his arms as he studied his superior.

"Ohhh, that's a great reason to let him one-up me," Jor retorted, crossing his own arms. "What are you going to give him?"

That brought Xane up short. He assumed that Jordan would step in and take over.

"Oh," Jor repeated quietly, leaning into the vid more. "You didn't think of that, did you? You think I'm just gonna do everything for you."

"I know exactly what I can give him," Xane snapped, slightly hurt by this. He didn't care if he was a pawn between the pair, he needed a legit source. He needed someone that his persona could have contacted...and he'd been trying to get Jordan, but the damn guy was never available.

"So think about the other aspect, asshole," Jordan's tone was sharp and annoyed. "Did you forget the part where people have put together who I am and that I'm connected with Jon? Did that skip your mind entirely?"

Xane hesitated, then shrugged slightly. "I didn't think it'd be an issue. I'm sort of in Spain."

"Hm, let's see..." Jordan muttered. "An international arms trading ring with ports in every major city...and Jonathan Breer," he looked to the screen again. "I can see him being a small fry."

"On the other line," Xane repeated.

Jordan's expression changed only to become emotionless as he raised one hand and typed on the keypad next to his screen. Something beeped and he typed in more...it didn't take him horribly long, and the blips and chirps were simple confirmation noises.

"Jordan?" Jon asked blankly as the image on Xane's screen split in half to show the kingpin and the former pilot. "I thought you were on base?"

"I'm a hacker," Jordan retorted, his expression dark.

"So...you are on base? Is Mouthy?"

"No, Mouthy is in Spain."

Xane blinked as he realized that Jon couldn't see him. He'd thought that his half screen feature had been shared...

"What's going on?" Jon asked curiously.

"It seems my second wants to borrow money from you. It's my credit."

"Come on," Xane protested. "How the fuck am I supposed to get any cred..."

Jon was studying his screen in confusion.

"Not with Breer," Jordan retorted.

Jon sniggered slightly, probably realizing what had happened.

"So give him his fucking money and don't you dare embarrass him."

"You're in a great mood," the kingpin grumbled. "What did I do?"

"Well, not coming to me is a start."

"I've been trying to get ahold of you all damn day!" Jon retorted. "I ended up having to chase down Chance to get anything! Don't start getting all pissed at me when you're the one who can't ever be found!"

"I've been working the Rest!" Jor half shouted back. "I can't help it if it's busy!" he paced away from the counter, still in the camera's view. "I get there every morning and dive head long into other people's problems that aren't going away while my five are off gallivanting the world looking for a fucking weapons ring that seems to only appear on Beltane and disappear if the proper gift isn't brought in twenty damn minutes! I get to hear how little Tommy got beaten up by the bully on the corner and how Suzie started having sex with a boy for money down the street! I get to hear how Mama loves Daddy but Daddy hits her anyway...I get to hear all about complete shit and come home to an empty house! The least you can do is call my fucking cell phone!"

Jon went silent, blinking.

"So front him the fucking money and don't give me this bullshit, Jon," Jordan moved in so he was inches from the screen. "I can take back Angels and I will if you piss me off."

"I tried to get ahold of you," Jon informed him, looking upset. "I called your cell five damn times...you think I'd really leave your boy up in the air? He told me something about breakfast...that's your code isn't it?"

Xane's stomach jumped guiltily.

He'd literally eaten breakfast and called the man...it hadn't been code.

"What?" Jordan snapped, his focus changing back to Xane.

"Don't snap at me like that!" Jon protested. "I ran all over Angels today trying to find you! You bitch and complain to me like I'm just trying to fuck you over when all I've been trying to do today is let you know!"

Jordan focused on Jon's side of the screen a moment, then looked back to Xane.

"I...I said I'd waited until after breakfast to call him," Xane muttered, moving closer to the vid. "I didn't...I didn't...I'm not in trouble."

Jordan's expression turned dark again.

"I'm sorry," Xane muttered, looking down. He hadn't realized that Jon knew any of their code.

"Why didn't you call me back?" Jon asked tiredly, sitting forward in his seat as he took a long pull of his cup. "You usually call me back when I call...especially if I call twice in five minutes."

Jordan studied one side of the screen a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled open his phone...and stared at it.

"What?" Jon asked, rising to move to the vid properly.

Jordan raised his phone and stared more, then looked up to his friend and subordinate. He opened his mouth like he'd speak, then looked back down to it.

"What?" Xane asked, blinking at him.

"It's dead," Jordan returned, raising the thing so they saw the complete lack of light from it. "I got so busy today that I didn't even realize my cell phone was dead."

Xane blinked.

"I tried," Jon informed him, looking away. "I don't call the base...you know I don't call the base...and I don't have the number for the Rest. That's why I went there...and you were running out like I didn't matter."

Jordan's head came up again as he focused on that part of the screen.

"I tried," Jon noted, raising his eyes to the screen again. "I know you're stressed...it's not like I don't..."

"I'm sorry," Jordan noted, looking away from the screen entirely as he started fiddling on his counter. "That was entirely my fault."

"I'll get Mouthy the cash," Jon muttered, rubbing at his face. "It was never an actual question of if I'd do it...I just didn't know if I was supposed to or not."

Xane looked away.

"You're going to get yourself killed, playing politics with me," Jordan said quietly, still not looking at the screen. "You do what you do. Don't worry about what I want."

"You can say that all you want," Jon muttered, his hand moving to the connection button. "But you forget that not five minutes ago I was an undying bastard. Save the pretty speeches for the masses, huh, Jor? I still tend to change the channel."

"I'm sorry," Jordan said seriously, looking to the screen again. "I shouldn't just make the assumptions."

"Save it," Jon snapped bitterly. "Mouthy, I'll wire the transfer to Wells Fargo. If you're not there to get it, they'll just return it to my account. Ten minutes."

"Um...okay," Xane said, focusing on the kingpin's half of the screen. "What name?"

"Mouthy," Jon retorted...and hit the button.

"How far away is that?" Jordan muttered, looking away from the screen.

"Five minutes," Xane returned.

"Finish the transfer tonight," Jordan ordered, focusing on him again. "You're going to Thailand tomorrow evening, your time...the name will be Tom Sevier."

"I need to come home," Xane denied, studying him seriously. "I need to take a break and re-grow my hair...change the color."

Jordan frowned at him, studying him seriously.

"I need a few weeks," Xane persisted, considering his leader a long moment. "Just some time to stop thinking."

"You never stop thinking about it," Jordan returned darkly. "Judas hasn't checked in, and his point was three days ago. Danielle was late...Riley was early...it doesn't stop."

"But I need to come home," Xane persisted. He could see that his friend was about to tear at the seams...and he had no intentions of letting it stand.

Jordan considered it a long moment, then nodded. "Fine...finish the transfer and come in."

"Yes, sir," Xane muttered, turning to grab his wallet. "I've got to go."