Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Devil's Due ❯ - 34 - ( Chapter 34 )

— 34 —

February 8, A.C. 205. Base. 7 am

"So, I'm going to China," Raul informed Jordan happily.

Jordan blinked at the sudden information. "Tell me."

"I was invited in to talk to the merchant," Raul explained. "A man named David Shire."

Jordan's heart skipped a beat.

"There was a rich boy named Juan Tsai there..."

Tsai?

Jordan blinked, startled. He hadn't thought the names Xane had given him would mean a damn thing...so was it a common surname, or the same person?

"He's just some rich pretty boy," Raul added, rolling his eyes. "He's got money to spend and lives on some private island off Taiwan. He was asking about an M.S., and since I was there he decided to rub it in my face that he could afford it and insisted I go with him for the viewing."

"Where at in China?" Jordan asked skeptically.

"They haven't told me yet," Raul admitted with a frown. "Vlad was trying to talk me out of going, so I doubt it's a set up."

"All right," Jordan agreed, studying the guy with interest. "It just so happens that David Shire is a guy Mouthy has mentioned to me. There's a chance you'll be going to Fuzhou."

Raul blinked at him.

"What are you going to do if that's the case?"

"Nothing, if I can help it," Raul returned, tilting his head slightly. "We acted like we didn't know each other before."

"I don't like it," Jor returned, turning to lean backwards against the counter and think. "It's too close."

"We're in the same strip," Raul reminded him. "Judas pointed out that it's all sectioned off."

"All right," Jordan agreed again, turning back to the screen. "Tsai is also a name Mouthy got from Chaoxiang's files. If it's the man himself, you might be in a bit over your head."

"Mouthy will be there," Raul pointed out. "If we really are going to Fuzhou."

"Even so," Jordan noted, shaking his head as he thought. "There's nothing else for it...I can't have you at it alone..."

"...if Mouthy is there, we won't be."

Jordan raised an eyebrow at the man. "The group that Mouthy is in...and the fact that he's being the one and only lover for the leader of that group suggests that his double-crossing is a bad idea. If he crosses them, they'll mark him."

Raul settled back, frowning as he realized that one of the people he relied on wouldn't be able to assist him at all.

"I'll send her," Jordan added, thinking of Riley.

"You sure?" Raul asked, blinking at him. "I thought you wanted the ladies home safe."

"She's resourceful," Jordan dismissed that, starting to rub his neck. "What's the time frame?"

"We leave on Friday and come back on Monday," Raul returned.

"...and its Tuesday..."

"Closer to Wednesday over here."

"Meaning I have to get her out by noon so she has set up time....what other information do you have for me?" he focused sharply on the screen.

"Well, it seems that..."

- -

February 8, A.C. 205. Base. 10 am

"What's the big rush?" Richard asked, watching Jordan's car fly through the gates.

"He's focused," Quatre noted in return, watching the car as it stopped at the end of the driveway. "I wonder what he's up to."

"You don't know?" Richard returned, focusing on him.

"I haven't talked to him since we got up this morning," Quatre returned with a shrug, turning back to Duty. "Anyway, my sister will be coming back to pick him up sometime today. If you can not hassle her on her entrance..."

"I do what I have to do," the man returned almost flippantly. "If she has her pass..."

"I gave them to her already," Quatre retorted. "Just don't give her a hard time on the validation, all right?"

Duty grinned at him, then gestured with his head at the boy curiously.

"My sister got pulled into the talks going on at a conference in Inado proper," Quatre rolled his eyes. "It's fine with me, because me'n Dick get along, but..."

"You are such an ass!" Richard protested.

Quatre started laughing, shifting sideways to add the guy into the conversation again. "I was expecting my sister to spend more time with me, but she's special."

Richard's emotions registered annoyance, though Duty was just amused.

"Anyway," Quatre added, feeling almost nervously for his necklace and the magnet in his pockets. "We're heading back to the main to play some more. I just wanted to be sure you were forewarned."

"And you don't believe in cell phones?" the guy asked curiously.

Richard sniggered.

"No, I do, mine is just pretending not to exist right now," Quatre reassured him. "Later, Eastland."

"Later," the guy returned happily, watching them walk away.

"I thought his name was Duty," Richard protested, following after.

"Huh? Oh," Quatre flashed him a grin. "I've never actually learned his real first name, but his sur is Eastland. He's always on duty, though, so everyone has just taken to calling him Duty."

"Oh," the kid considered that, then tilted his head. "Why are we walking?"

"Walking is good for you," Quatre explained. "If I'm not in a rush I just leave my car in the parking lot. Actually, it started because I needed to get away from people, but yeah."

Richard looked around at the buildings on either side of the road and frowned. "Did it work?"

Quatre looked around himself, somewhat glumly. "Not really."

Richard focused on him again. "That seems...hard."

"I was clinically depressed," Quatre agreed, shrugging slightly. "Every moment I lived, breathed, and felt everyone else around me. Back before Jordan came back, it wasn't even a relief to be with the others."

"You don't have the necklace on," Richard noted quietly, looking to his uncle's throat.

"I can choose to feel it or not," Quatre returned, pulling the chain out of his pocket and showing it to the younger male. "This little thing makes that much difference," he almost mused to himself as he studied the slightly swinging chain.

"Where's the magnet?"

"In the other pocket," Quatre reassured him. "If it's in my pocket together it still blocks some out, so I separate them to get the full force again."

"Why?"

"Because I can," Quatre looked back to his nephew with a slight smile. "And that, my friend, is the best motivation in the world."

Richard grinned slightly at that.

Quatre tucked the thing away, sliding his hands back into his pockets. "You have to let me know when you're hungry," he noted. "I won't eat again until noon or better."

Richard frowned, looking slightly uncomfortable a moment, then shrugged. "I haven't eaten yet."

"We can head to the canteen," Quatre suggested, pointing toward the road. "I want some coffee and you can get food...huh?"

"There's a vending machine," the kid protested, pointing toward the main building.

Quatre blinked at him, then shrugged, heading for the building. There was coffee in the lounge, after all.

"I didn't...annoy you yesterday, did I?" Richard added, moving up beside him properly. "Mom said that I shouldn't have gotten annoyed with you about neglecting her."

Quatre met his eyes, raising his eyebrows very slightly.

"Well...she didn't say it that way," the kid conceded, looking away.

"Look," Quatre said, grabbing his arm and looking around them. "There are three people in this house," he added, pointing toward the one behind them. "Two are in the back and one is in the living room and impatient." Quatre pointed at the next house over. "Two in there. One sleeping. Three more...four," he pointed at a house they'd passed before, then across the street. "Two sleeping, one waking up, one focused...that one has a bunch of sleeping minds...three of them," Quatre looked around again, the pointed up the road. "A car is going to stop there in a second with three people in it singing."

Richard opened his mouth to protest...but a junker car did stop at the stop sign in question with two guys visible singing as the driver all but rolled-through the sign. As it passed, a third guy became evident in the back seat.

"And this is as alone as I could get," Quatre added, looking back to his nephew. "I told you I was depressed. I couldn't block any of this out until Chai showed up, and even then I wasn't doing anything."

"I don't see how this has anything to do with..."

"I have twenty-eight sisters living," Quatre cut him off, meeting his eyes. "And when we do our family Christmas, that's at least twenty husbands, and there are fifty some of you...all in the house, all close together, all expecting something of me that I couldn't provide. Besides, Ainslie and I tear each other's throats out left and right, then Karen and her disapproval," he met his nephew's eyes again pointedly. "They aren't the only ones who disapprove of me."

Richard blinked.

"I don't think you can even imagine what hell my life was," Quatre added, looking to the overcast sky. "I was never alone and my sisters all thought I'd fucked up. People treated me different...not only for my name but for this...this..." he gestured toward the houses with a frown. "Power?" he suggested, then shook his head. "I don't know..." he shook his head harder. "It doesn't matter now. As far as most of them are concerned I just grew up." He met eyes with the boy again. "I didn't mean anything against your Mom...she and Margrite have always supported me...I never meant to hurt her, but I couldn't care before."

Richard looked away, nodding slightly.

Quatre could feel that he accepted the words, then shrugged slightly and started for the building again. "I don't seem to have anything going on here. I usually go out to the Rest around then. You have any problems with that?"

"The Rest?" the kid looked up to him curiously.

"The mission down in Angels?" Quatre agreed, tilting his head curiously. "Chai started it last year?"

"Oh! She did?" Richard suddenly looked extremely impressed. "I didn't realize it was her!"

"Yeah," Quatre agreed with a slight smile. "She's done so much..." he looked away a moment. "I wonder what I could do for her."

"For Chai?" Richard asked, studying him with interest. "Won't your girlfriend get jealous?"

"Of Chai?" Quatre sniggered slightly at that and shook his head. "No...no. Chai is our little mother...she's our tesorina...she's always taking care of us." He shrugged slightly. "Besides, she's married already."

Richard gave him an amused look.

"Come on," Quatre added, grinning back. "Let's go talk to Chance, then hit the rest."

"You defer to Chance all the time," the boy protested. "Why?"

"Because chance is fickle," Quatre retorted, then started laughing to himself as he pulled out his cell. "I'm gonna see if Paris wants to come down with us or not."

- -

February 8, A.C. 205. Lower Angels. 12 pm

Jordan looked up from the book he'd been referencing and stopped as he blinked at his brother-in-law.

Nicholas Benning was staring at him with a sort of deer-in-the-headlights look as he moved more into the room.

"Hello!" Quatre greeted him happily, bouncing over to shake his hand as Richard bounced after. It made the man recoil slightly as he focused on Quatre with wide and wary eyes. "How are you?" Quatre continued in a less ecstatic tone. "I wasn't expecting to see you here..."

"Hey, Nick," Jordan greeted him, moving around the desk. "Is something wrong?"

Nicholas had dark brown hair and the lines of his face were almost a mirror of Chai's. His eyes, though, were brown. He studied Jordan a moment longer, then shook his head and shrugged, moving away from the blondes. "I just...was hoping she'd be here."

"She doesn't come down," Jordan reminded him quietly.

The guy nodded, then shook his head.

"Hey," Quatre said in a slightly firm tone.

Nick looked up to him.

"Come here," Quatre instructed, turning on his heel and heading back to his little station.

Nick gave Jordan a confused look, but followed without protest.

Richard pointed at the guy's back curiously.

"Richard, this is Nicholas Benning, Chai's oldest brother. Nick, this is Richard...Baen? You're Baen, aren't you?"

"Winner-Baen," the kid shrugged.

"Oh, all right," Jordan processed that and looked back to Nick. "This is Richard Winner-Baen. He's Quatre's nephew."

Nick nodded politely at the kid before looking back to Quatre, who was pulling out a necklace and magnet set from a drawer, extending it to the man. "Try that on and tell me if you feel anything."

The guy gave him a confused sort of look and latched the thing around his neck...and looked around the room sharply.

"Does it seem like someone turned the volume down?" Quatre asked quietly. "Or that someone put something in your ears?"

The guy nodded, blinking several times as he focused on Jordan. "It's...I..."

"I thought so," Quatre noted, moving around to lean against the desk near the man. "You're an empath. I'll have to get you alone to see how good you are, though. I don't get the same sort of reading from you like I do most other empaths...but at the same time, your sister does something no one else can do."

"This is what she does," he noted, touching the necklace and looking around again.

"You can keep that," Quatre noted, indicating the thing. "Is that why you were here? Has it been too much?"

The guy nodded, raising a hand to the side of his head as he looked back to Jordan.

"Are you all right?" Jordan persisted, moving closer to the man and grabbing his arms as he studied his eyes.

Nick looked away and shook his head hard.

He was coming down.

Jordan stared at him a long moment as he wondered what drug the man had been on, then looked around to Quatre.

Quatre nodded.

"Why don't you come home with me tonight," Jordan suggested quietly. "Chai will be happy to see you...and you can just crash on the floor."

"I don't want to be...to..." the guy blinked hard, shaking his head.

"It's nothing," Jordan reassured him. "You're family."

The guy looked back to his face in disbelief.

"Come on," Jordan added, pulling him gently from the room. "You can lay down in my office. You look dead on your feet."

The guy blinked at him again, but followed him wordlessly.

Jordan really hated lower Angels.

- -

February 8, A.C. 205. Lower Angels. 3 pm

It was a shock when it happened.

Richard was kneeling down by a small boy in the lobby when he heard a loud noise...and shouting. It only took him a moment to realize it was gunfire, and that was mostly because the little eight year old girl who'd been coloring had jumped from her table and tackled her little brother to the ground.

"Get down!" someone shouted harshly...knocking him to the ground as glass shattered over their heads...but the man who'd knocked him over hadn't stopped on top of him. He'd covered the children with his own body...and Richard gasped in shock as he felt glass cutting into his arms and face.

"Mother fucker!" Chance snarled, flying through the lobby with a gun in his hands as he slammed through the front doors. A breath later, Jordan was flying through the same way...before Quatre came pelting out a lower hall, looking to Richard for a long moment in dismay before nodding once at his nephew and flying through the doors.

At the same time, soldiers were appearing from all over the building, all flying toward the various exits with weapons, some with Kevlar vests, some with helmets.

"You all right?" the man who'd knocked him over demanded, the children held tightly in his arms.

"I...I think so," Richard muttered, touching his face where it was hot. He stared at the blood in disbelief before realizing it was all over his hands...and arms...

"Get those kids out of here now!" Chance's voice exploded from the doors as the man backed through them and glared down at the solider...the man disappeared down the hall with the kids held protectively to him. "Move!" he added harshly.

Richard looked up to him in disbelief, feeling something fall from his face and seeing the sparkle of glass before a larger piece hit the floor.

"Move, Richard, now!" Quatre shouted, darting into the building and moving to pick his nephew up off the ground and throw him at the stairs. Richard stumbled against the wall and stopped, then ducked hard as something hit the wall above his head. "Get him to safety!" Quatre snarled at a passing soldier, indicating Richard.

Richard didn't fight the person when they turned and yanked him toward another hall as the shots continued outside...and it wasn't until he was in the bathroom that he realized he had several gashes on his face. He blinked at that as he realized the spots stung badly, as well as his arms.

"You don't look so good," the solider noted, running the water in a sink and turning to grab a paper-towel from the dispenser. "You comin' out of it yet?"

"Out of it?" Richard repeated blankly.

"Shell shock, baby," the female noted with a grin. "You're not a solider, are you?"

Richard blinked at her as she started dabbing carefully at his face.

"You'll be all right," the girl reassured him, smiling brightly at him. "This is just one of the mafia groups who have it in for Breer. Evidently, our station in his land takes the would-be-loyal followers from their lands away, meaning the other gangs are losing strength."

Richard nodded, blinking as she made one of the wounds sting hard.

"This one will bleed a bit more," she added, indicating a larger gash on his cheek since the others on his face had all but stopped bleeding. "Clean up your arms, huh?" she turned and washed her hand in the still running water, then winked at him a disappeared from the room.

She'd had a gun.

Richard blinked after her in disbelief before looking down to his arms.

The building had been shot at.

He started cleaning his arms even more as the shots and shouting continued. It didn't take him too long to get those wounds wiped down, and then he realized that there was no way he could hold enough paper-towels to all the larger cuts and frowned as he pressed one to his face and started back into the hall hesitantly. It took him several minutes to figure out which way he'd even come from, and as he neared the end of the hall, he glanced around it to see his uncle standing on one side of the main entrance and Chance on the other. Up the wall a ways was Jordan, and there were a shit load of soldiers crouched on the floor and moving to the windows...to shoot out the windows.

Quatre nodded, and a handful of the men instantly darted from the building, shooting the entire time as shouts of alarm came from outside.

"You look a little mussed, there, rich-boy!" Jordan called from where he was standing. "You stay back, huh?"

Richard nodded.

"You alive, nephew?"

"I think so," Richard returned. "I'm bleeding."

"You'll be all right," Chance reassured him. "Just stay back."

"I'm not moving."

"Ready?" Quatre added.

"Let's play blazing guns," Jordan suggested.

"Are you mad?" Chance demanded, turning to look at him.

"You be my god?" Jordan wheedled in an almost cute voice. "You be my moon?"

"Worship me," Chance agreed almost resignedly. "I'll be your sun."

"Ready?" Quatre asked in amusement.

"Let's get it over with," Chance agreed...and they moved.

Richard slid down the wall, leaning against it as the shouting re-doubled...as well as the shots. He stared at the door as the soldiers who'd run out at Quatre's nod moved back in, then listened as the shouting turned slightly panicked...

Something exploded.

The teen could hear the very evil sounding laughter of his uncle, Jordan, and Chance.

"Was that the car?" someone on the floor asked nervously.

"I think it was," someone else agreed. "Listen to them laugh...it must have been an accident."

"Why do you say that?" someone else asked.

"I've been working around them for a few years now," the other replied. "They're insane as hell, but they're damn good at what they do. Blazing guns," he tsked irritably. "I swear they should have been cowboys."

That got a nervous titter.

"Why do you think it was an accident?" the other repeated.

"Because that's the ‘it's fucked up' laugh," the guy explained as the shooting started to subside. "They only laugh like that when they didn't do it or they didn't mean to do it."

"Does this happen often?" Richard asked.

"Never, that I know of," the guy returned. "It's been threatened before, though. I wonder who had the balls to try it."

"Does it really matter?"

"Not as long as the civilians are safe," another voice noted.

"That's my call, too," the main speaker agreed. "You okay back there, blondie? You're not losing too much blood are you?"

"I don't know.... How much is too much?"

"I'd say any was," a female noted. "I know at certain times of the month I think that."

That got a lot of laughter.

"I have...some big ones on my arms," Richard noted when that had subsided. "I can't...hold anything on them."

"Sweet, the Winner kid is going to bleed to death!" someone else said happily. "Great reputation for the Rest, huh?"

That got more laughter, but someone had moved around to Richard.

"Oh, shit!" Jordan's voice was too amused...as something else exploded.

The building shook.

"Whoa," someone muttered. "What was that?"

"Hopefully just a car," the main speaker said through gritted teeth. "If it's not, it could get bad."

"You're all right," the man noted to Richard as he studied the wounds. "A few stitches and some Remalene and you'll be healed in a few days."

"Can you help me stop the bleeding?" Richard returned, shifting so more of the wounds became evident.

"Damn, what happened to you?"

Richard pointed toward the window he'd been near.

They flinched enmasse at that, focusing back on the door.

Quatre slid into it and made a series of obscure gestures that really reminded Richard of sign language...and all the men that were in the lobby darted out the doors...in rank.

"Sir?" the man beside Richard asked nervously. He was holding a press to Richard's arm.

"What do you say, nephew?" Quatre asked, moving to him quickly. "You want scars or not?"

"What?" Richard asked blankly.

"Some day some girl...or guy...will ask you where you got'em," the guy explained, grinning wickedly at him. "You can explain you were here and it'll be all sorts of impressive...unless you wanna be a pretty boy."

Quatre laughed and smacked him, which made him grin and dart out the doors after the others.

Richard realized he was shaking, focusing on his hand in disbelief.

"You're all right," Quatre reassured him gently, moving across the room and into the main office area, digging into a cupboard and pulling out a small box. "If you want the scars I can stitch you up here," he added, moving back around to the teen. "If not, it's an hour's drive to the base and I can wrap them tight," he showed the box.

"What do you think my mom would say?" Richard asked, swallowing nervously. Neither idea appealed particularly to him.

"I think she'd let you decide," Quatre reassured him. "This wasn't your fault."

"Um...but...I was in shock and stuff," Richard noted, blinking at him.

"Then no?" Quatre offered, pulling out a gauze pad. "You might have little scars from these bigger wounds, but the smaller ones will probably be gone by morning."

"How?"

"Remalene, my dear kinsmen," Quatre returned, pressing gauze to one of the larger wounds and wrapping tape around it tightly. "We'll get you back to base and they'll run you a quick intensive, then give you the pills. You'll probably sleep for the rest of the night after that...but hey, you have a story to tell your friends back home."

Richard grinned, appreciating that in spite of himself.

Quatre winked, moving onto another wound. "I think those windows are going to magically become bullet-proof," he noted. "And I'm sure there will be all sorts of people pissed that we blew that truck."

"A truck?" Richard asked, giving him a wide-eyed look.

Quatre flashed him a wicked grin, moving on to the next wound. "The thing about blazing-guns is that you don't really have enough time to think out the full reaction of shooting the big metal thing...it's all right, though. Now the Rest will make the news again and we'll start getting a lot more support...maybe even more officers for the local precinct," he waggled his eyebrows slightly. "And adding your name to the list," he winked. "My dear nephew...even though you probably hurt like hell right now...your presence is gonna generate all sorts of publicity." He studied his nephew's face with shining eyes. "Just play down the shell-shock, huh? It's more impressive that way."