Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Devil's Due ❯ - 12 - ( Chapter 12 )

— 12 —

November 8, A.C. 204. Base. 12pm

"Thank you," Trent muttered quietly to Chai as he sat next to Maximilion. Simone was at the end of the line.

"It's no thing," Chai informed him happily as she passed a bowl of stir-fry to Max. The Asian guy looked a little less than pleased, but muttered his thanks.

"What?" Chai asked, studying his face. "You don't like stir-fry?"

"I'm an odd one," Max returned, poking at the bowl.

"You can tell me no thanks," Chai informed him, hands on her hips. She studied him a moment, then took this bowl and slid it to Simone. "What do you want to eat, then?"

"I'm fine," he started to protest.

"Sure you are, that's why I hear your stomach rumbling," she gave him a look. "I married Jordan," she reminded him. "You can't think I'm oblivious."

He flashed her a slightly embarrassed grin and shrugged.

The electronic beep sounded to let them know the front door had been opened, and they all looked toward the living room.

"Hey!" Jordan greeted his group as he moved into the kitchen. He moved around instantly to kiss his wife, then looked from her to Max, then back to the stove. He grinned slightly and moved to the fridge, pulling it open and pulling out an egg-noodle packet thing. It took him about ten seconds to have that in the microwave before he kissed his wife again. "Get me some of that, huh? I'm changing."

Chai smiled at him and kissed him again for good measure, turning to the stove and starting to scoop out another bowl of stir-fry.

"What?" Trent asked as Jordan disappeared into his bedroom.

"What?" Chai echoed curiously.

Simone giggled slightly, resting her elbow on the counter and her chin in her palm. "You have beautiful eyes."

Chai flashed her a grin, spreading soy-sauce around the bowl as Max's expression registered distaste before clearing again.

It took until just after the microwave beeped for Jordan to be re-dressed and bouncing in socks back to the kitchen. He stopped, kissed his wife again, then turned and pulled the bowl out of the microwave, setting that in front of Max before doing a little spin around Chai to pull out chopsticks and set those in front of the guy, too.

"Ooh," Max muttered, looking a bit excited before controlling himself.

"You're welcome," Jordan reassured him, taking his bowl from Chai and starting to eat.

"I thought you were going to be here, or I wouldn't have come early," Trent noted to him almost apologetically. "I didn't mean to impose..."

"First of all," Jordan noted, "my wife speaks beautiful English, so she understands when you speak. Second of all, she feels neglected if people don't come around three or eight times a week to steal food from us. Last of all, I gave you the impression I'd be here so you could come see how sweet my wife is and be all jealous because she's the perfect woman."

Chai started laughing, smacking him.

Jordan flashed his recruits a grin.

"I want you to disable that stupid beep," Chai reminded the man. "It's fine most of the time, but I'm damn tired of it now, especially when someone comes in at night."

Jordan hesitated, thinking about that. "But it's convenient to have at night."

"No, you'll hear it and wake up yourself. You told me you would."

"I don't know how," he informed her, smiling beatifically at her.

She gave him a very level look.

"What? I don't!" he protested.

"Jordan, you can repair mecha. I really don't think a house alarm is beyond you."

He tried not to, but the grin returned and he started chuckling, looking to his recruits. "Who wants to do it?"

"Me!" Simone bounced from her seat excitedly.

Trent had almost raised his hand at the same time, but at the female's voice, he changed his mind, shrugging and going back to eating. Max hadn't even looked up.

"Ooh, great, Max, I'm glad you volunteered."

"What?" Max demanded, half chocking on his noodles and using his hand to cover his mouth briefly. "No! I...I don't know about...I'm not good with..."

"That would be why," Chai said sweetly, moving to pull herself on the counter. "I get the feeling Trent knows enough about hardwiring to figure it out, and Simone's bounce suggests that it's a forte. You need to be able to do anything at a moment's notice, so practice at home when you won't get in trouble."

He blinked at her.

"So...can I like...take Xane and run off?" Jordan asked her curiously. "Leave them with you for a month or two so I don't have to train them?"

Chai giggled and smacked him.

"That'd be fun," Simone noted.

"I'm power hungry," Chai denied sweetly...and focused back on eating as Simone grinned even more.

Jordan smirked at them all and winked at Max before focusing on eating again. When Max only picked at his food, Jordan grinned slightly and turned to the cupboard beside his fridge, pulling out some antacids and tossing them to him. "We'll set you up with Morris for some anti-anxiety stuff, huh?"

Max nodded, not meeting his eyes.

"So where are you taking Mouthy?" Chai added after a moment. "Will I have to start the divorce papers before you come back?"

Jordan turned on her in almost-stunned disbelief. "Hey!"

- -

November 8, A.C. 204. Lower Angels. 2pm

"Chance?"

Chance looked up to his office door as Xane moved into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Can I talk to you?"

"No," Chance returned with a serious expression. "You can never talk to me again."

Xane gave him a look.

"I thought I'd break the serious moment?" Chance offered, grinning at him, then frowned. "What's up?"

"I want your opinion," Xane returned, moving to sit across from the man.

"That shirt looks good with those pants, but the black boots aren't so hot," Chance replied easily. "Your hair needs trimmed again, and probably styled. You should never wear make-up. Your boyfriend is a freak for ignoring your cheating. Jordan is always right, no matter what he's saying, and you need to sell your car before it dies."

Xane gave him the sort of level look Chai threw around.

Chance grinned back.

"If you don't want to talk, I can go," Xane noted, looking away.

"Come on," Chance cajoled. "I'm just playing...I thought you found my shit amusing."

Xane sighed and leaned forward against the desk, thinking. "James has convinced himself that I'm in love with Jordan, that when we're...intimate...I'm thinking of Jordan...that everything I do is for Jordan..."

"Interesting, since Jor is straight and you really have no hopes of getting into his bed for more than a nap."

"That was my thought," Xane agreed wryly, starting to mess with the edge of the matting on the desk. "Do you think...I should leave him?"

"I've thought you should leave him since he came into the diner that morning and freaked out that you were cheating with me. The fact that you are cheating suggests that you should have left him a long time ago. The fact that he's obsessing about Jordan means that he's at the end of his rope."

Xane sighed and nodded.

"You should do it before you go to China," Chance added seriously. "That way he can work through it while you're out and hopefully be okay with it by the time you're back again."

"But if I leave him..." Xane started to sit up.

"Xane," Chance cut him off quietly. "Keeping him as a safety blanket isn't fair to him. You care about him, I can tell that...so do you really want to do that to him?"

"It's just..."

"You cheat on him left and right," Chance reminded him softly. "That's not fair to him. He can tell you're cheating, and if he doesn't have the ability to leave you for it...then you need to do it for him."

Xane started to shake his head.

"I'm not going to convince you to do it," Chance noted pointedly. "You either do or you don't. It's not my life, it's not someone I care about, and you with him is nothing but a reason for me to tease you. If you want someone to convince you, head up the hall a few doors and talk to Jor." He studied his young friend a long moment, then sat back in his chair. "Do you want to be here for my wedding?"

Xane looked up to him, blinking.

"It's like...two weeks away," Chance reminded him. "If I get you busy doing stuff for me, then Jor won't send you off. If I don't get you busy, Jor will probably decide in a few days that you're ready for action again. Do you want to come to my wedding or not?"

"I wanted to," Xane said quickly. "But if Jor..."

"But if Jor nothing," Chance noted pointedly. "I don't know his timeline, but he seems to be sending you around at will. Raul doesn't seem to be getting anywhere in Thailand, he can be cycled to China...you speak Russian anyway, so it makes more sense for you to hit the Russian points."

"None of us speak any Asian languages," Xane noted, thinking about that with a frown.

"I think that was one of the main draws for Max," Chance noted. "Not only is he Asian, but he can speak a couple of the languages. I'm pretty sure Simone has a handle on French..."

"Her name might be French, but she was born and raised in Ohio," the guy noted.

"Just because your only training was in spy networking doesn't mean that you were trained better than me," Chance retorted happily. "I'll have you know that I can hack into any machine connected to a network, and I can gather just as much information, if not more, than you."

Xane grinned at him.

"Her grandmother spent about twenty years in France," Chance added. "Her mother spent about ten...she's spent about five. She knows the language, and I think she knows some Portuguese, too."

The younger male considered that a long moment, then rubbed at the back of his neck before he nodded.

"What?" Chance asked blankly.

"I want to stay for your wedding," he explained. "What do you need me to do?"

"Take this, put on your uniform, and head over to Remington to get a check," Chance replied, passing him a folder. "When you get back, be ready to head out far and wide. Places donating big money don't like to send it through the mail, and it's not exactly like I can send a whole entourage. I'll get Allul to go with you so you don't have to be alone, and frosted tips aren't your look."

Xane snorted, snatching the folder from him as he rose.

"I'm gonna give you my signature card, and if you abuse it, I'll lay your ass out. You can run around like my personal secretary and stay out of Jordan's hair. He won't be entirely happy about it, but it's only until after my wedding, so he'll get over it."

"What if I'm good at it?" Xane demanded, stopping at the door.

"Mario has first claim to the post," he shrugged. "He knows what I mean when I say something backwards, and I can get him to throw a tantrum around my wedding so it looks natural that I let you go. Whether or not you're good at it is entirely beside the point, Featihl. It's just busywork so you don't find yourself transplanted to China."

Xane flashed him a grin, and headed toward his car.

- -

November 9, A.C. 204. Berlin, Germany. 12am

Judas rubbed his eyes as he lay down on his bed, staring around his darkened apartment. It had been about a month since he'd gotten on Brantley's good side, and the man was finally showing signs of stepping him up from casual footpad.

Now he'd get to play bodyguard.

The main thing, though, was that he'd get to play bodyguard with Bauer in the building...and possibly Holt. They were going to Switzerland for a regional meeting. Brantley didn't call it a regional meeting, but it was that in effect. There would be heads from the Netherlands, Denmark, Belgium, Italy, and Austria...and Bauer controlled Switzerland.

How did that one go? If a tree falls in the woods?

As much as Judas really wouldn't have minded getting rid of a few pointless mafia idiots, he knew that he had to keep playing up to Brantley and not stray off the beaten path. He'd overheard enough to know that the, uh...quarterly earnings...weren't exactly at the level expected.

He also knew that the only reason the guys in Italy weren't chewing their nails off was because Danielle had purchased an extensive array of weaponry from them.

Too bad they didn't realize that this same weaponry was being traced to it's source, and that the nosy officer who'd stopped showing up had turned over a new leaf in Thailand. Too bad they didn't know that Judas himself was keeping a very clean and efficient list of names of anyone who came in or out of dealing with Brantley...too bad they didn't know that they were all being used.

Judas smirked slightly to himself, sitting up to pull off his shoes. He'd dealt with the not-so-happy lackeys who'd tried to waylay him in back alleys, and he'd even burned the bridge between himself and Orson...and Igor. The pair of them were tiny little grains of sand on the ocean floor. Their black-dealings were minute to the point of non-existence, but they were guilty by association. Judas didn't want them to end up dead because of something he did...because he liked them. They were innocent of the overall scheme of things, and they had no business working with an I.E.C. agent.

They'd done their part, and as a reward for that, they wouldn't get put away. Even if they got arrested in this racket, Judas wasn't going to let them burn.

He lay back again, staring at the ceiling.

He wasn't going to be able to win over Bauer first off, that'd take some time...but what else did he have? He could move on in the cycle with the rest, going to those cities to find the arms, but Danielle had succeeded in getting a nice sampling of their sources. That meant that the dealings would start focusing on the people behind it, at least if Jor's guys could track the stuff.

It was going to be a damn long winter, but at least it wouldn't be boring.

Judas grinned into the darkness of his apartment.

He wouldn't stand for it if it were going to get boring.