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"9"Written By: L.
Valensi
Rating: R Warnings: Suspense/Romance, hefty amount of gratuitous
violence; some abuse; lots of minor OCs & general term-invention Summary: The story is set in A.C. 205, little
less than ten years since the series ended in Endless Waltz. It centers
around the new life of Spoilers: Everything; Set Post-Mariemaia
Chapter 3: Elephant ---- Tell me if you want me to lie, -- A.C. 205 – Sanc Kingdom: Old Eurasia Spaceport Duo, muddled head and all, is accosted by men in pressed white suits the moment he steps out of the shuttle. He is informed that his luggage has been acquired and will be following him in a separate vehicle, which will then follow them to the premises within the Sanc Kingdom assigned to him by the Principal. The Vice Foreign Minister Peacecraft, they say to him, sends her regards, although she is at the moment indisposed in the A-Clusters (near the South China Sea). This is, of course, too much information for the half-asleep American to receive at the moment. He follows them obediently, wishing for the ordeal involving the Sanc Kingdom to be over though it has barely even began. As they make their way to the Peace Wing, the guards are contacted by the faint, yet recognizable, voice of Heero on the car-phone. Duo’s fatigue fades and is energized by ire and anticipation—a state with which he has recently become reacquainted with. He admires the verdant glow of the savanna that spans the outskirts of the Sanc Kingdom. The sphere’s glow from space will never compare to the actual sight of sunlight against a blade of grass, Duo realizes. He uses these thoughts to calm himself but before long finds himself staring into striking dark blue eyes, welcoming him with a fierce elegance that stops Duo’s breath. He steps out, feigning exhaustion with a drawn-out yawn, before he gleefully makes his way to Heero’s side. He turns and gives the white-clad bodyguards a sharp salute and a big grin, which they promptly ignore. “Thanks a lot, boys, but I think I can handle it from here,” He says with a mocking authoritative tone. “I can take care of handsome villain all by myself,” Duo says as he pantomimes a punch to Heero’s shoulder, but the frightened stares of the bodyguards prevent him from following up his intention. After an awkward moment of silence, one of the guards says, “Sir, shall we accompany you?” They disperse with the slight shake of Heero’s head, earning him a look of false awe from Duo. “What power, Your Highness,” Duo says, smiling. “I envy the perks of your glamorous new life.” “Certainly better than yours,” Heero responds with a deadpan brusqueness that manages to titillate Duo. Unfortunately, Duo thinks. “Follow me.” Heero leads him through the sparkling golden gates of the Peace Wing, past the grand glass offices Duo visited. They wander and wind about, following a path in the Peace Garden, where the smell of lilac and ocean water hypnotizes Duo to a state of perfect lightness. Just beyond a shrub reincarnation of the Venus de Milo facing Rodin’s The Kiss is the breathtaking view of the Mediterranean Sea bathed in wanton reds and supple oranges. Duo didn’t want to feel as good as he did this very immaculate moment, given the circumstances that brought him here, but he can feel no other emotion as the wind strikes his lungs and moves through his body. “This cottage will be your studio,” Heero says loudly to snap Duo back into reality. The cottage before him was small, homely, and opaque (save a huge, circular window facing the ocean). Its rusty colors shimmer under the sunset and Duo is strangely gripped with a longing for home. “Everything you need is inside. Don’t be fooled by the idyllic nature of the facility; it is as protected as I stated.” “I’m not fooled by it—I’m in love with it!” Duo says happily. “I thought it would help you calm down and focus on what your next actions will be,” “Oh, so you built this especially for me?” Duo chides, nudging Heero’s shoulder. “How sweet of you, Your Highness.” “No, I didn’t,” Heero says, stiffly opening the door and leaving Duo outside. Duo follows him with a small frown and slight disappointment. “This is my cabin, which I use to help me deal with difficult cases. I don’t like the transparency of the Peace Wing too much; I had this built for my own sanity.” “But your office isn’t transparent,” “A glass house is what it is.” “Have it your way, Cheshire Cat,” Duo says, putting down his luggage in the corner. He removes his laptop from within a briefcase and sets it on the white marble table in the middle of the room. “I assume I can have some sort of access here?” “This cottage is equipped with the Hylic system, too, if you’d prefer to get acquainted with it,” Heero says. “You may still access non-ESUN files esoterically but in order to get inside information, you will need to access it via our system.” “I won’t need too much more, other than building schematics, if you can allow me access to those.” Heero pauses and looks at Duo expectantly. “What do you need schematics for?” “Well, I thought it was obvious. I have to infiltrate the Volans meeting with Corvus.” Heero remains silent still, staring at Duo with ever-growing anger. Duo stares back resolutely, saying nothing and everything with his own silence. “No,” Heero states. Duo narrows his eyes in confusion. “Then why did you bother bringing me here?” “To save your life,” Heero says angrily. “You’re not going to find Hilde by acting rashly, Duo,” A pause. “What the fuck would you know?” “Nothing,” Heero says plainly, “Thanks to you.” “They could kill Hilde tonight for all you know!” “Hilde could already be dead for all you know,” Words are stuck in Duo’s throat and mind, unable to admit to himself—and more so Heero—the story behind his rationale. Despite the idyllic effect of the Mediterranean portrait around him, Duo feels only regret and unabashed frustration. The only thought running through Duo’s mind is that Heero’s imprisoned him, despite the promise that he wasn’t going to, and that every second he isn’t acting, Hilde could be dying. All because of him, the selfish bastard, Duo thinks. The problem is, he’s not entirely sure who he’s talking about anymore. “She’s not fucking dead, so stop saying that!” Duo hisses, cheeks tight with blood and fury. “You don’t know anything,” Heero says, raising his voice. “And moreover, I don’t know anything, which is precisely why we need more time to gather information about the truth behind these attacks on you.” Duo remains angered but silent. Heero proceeds to turn his back on the other man to leave the cottage. “Tell me when you’ve found something I can use, Duo.” Heero begins to walk away but stops when he hears Duo’s movements behind him. He feels Duo’s hand around his arm and he is moved to face the other. “I know it’s Volans who’s responsible for all this,” Duo pleads. “Why won’t you just trust me?” “Because I have no reason to,” Heero says. The two share another moment of discomfort before Duo lets go of his arm. He leaves without waiting for a reply. Duo’s breath gets caught in his throat as a familiar pang grips his chest. The further Heero fades into the distance, the more his chest caves into the swell of gravity centered on his heavily beating heart. He tries in vain to clutch the throbbing and hold it still, needing it to stop, needing to think clearly, but he finds that it is futile. It’s always about you, isn’t it, Heero, he thinks. Always you. -- Heero stands with his back to ten white-suited Peace Wing officers, gazing at the violent throes of the high tide eroding the cliffs not too far away. The little rustic cottage is within his line of sight. “He’s gone,” Heero says as he turns to face his men with crossed arms. “Yes, Principal; we can’t find him anywhere. We think he’s left the premises completely, though we aren’t entirely sure how,” The guard, Milo, is interrupted by a call in his headset. He looks up to Heero, who waits patiently for the news. “Uh… Sir… it seems that Mr. Maxwell could have very well stolen an Aries Traveler found to be missing this morning.” “Have you located the suit?” Milo whispers into his headset while the other men grow more fearful of the irritated look developing on Heero’s face. “No, sir, it seems Mr. Maxwell was able to remove the tracking chip installed in the suit.” “Very well, gentlemen,” Heero says. “We can do no more for Mr. Maxwell. Revisit your stations and reinvestigate the robbery to check for anything else that’s missing. Thank you for your time.” The men bow in unison and exit the room quietly, leaving Heero to his thoughts. Truthfully, he doesn’t have many at the moment. His thoughts run in one, long strand, consummating in one brief sentence: Duo Maxwell, you fucking idiot. -- A.C. 205 – E-Cluster: Unnamed Region “I know, I know, I’m a fuckin’ idiot,” Duo says out loud with a heavy sigh, as if he is talking to someone. “Sorry, Heero, but it had to be done. Can’t have you fighting my fights for me.” He is in at an altitude high enough not to be distinguished clearly by civilians and low enough to keep the pressure normal for the speed. At 1600, he will have arrived on-schedule at E-Cluster XJ233097, Amsel Baum Cherbourg-Octeville satellite, where a meeting between Leighton Aves Corvus and Keith Marcel is to take place at 0800, giving him just enough time to prepare his attack. You see, Duo still remains a master at deception when situations call for it. Before his arrival to the Peace Wing, Duo was two steps ahead of Heero’s intentions. Having realized the other’s motives for aid, Duo deduced early on that containment was Heero’s chosen master plan regarding the events on L2. And he also knew that Heero’s offer of a protected facility equaled containment. He took advantage of the fact and was able to easily infiltrate the PW database (with the help of an unsuspecting Joe something-or-other who’d left his computer unguarded) long enough to conduct his search in a mere thirty-five seconds—just enough time to go unnoticed. After succeeding in that aspect of his plan—that is, finding the location of the Marcel-Corvus meeting—he was then just left with his escape, which as you can see, wasn’t all that difficult. It wasn’t even difficult to procure the weapons he needed. Peace really makes people lazy, Duo thought at the time. And now he is flying exactly point six point eight miles beyond his ultimate destination, just around the mountainous edge of the prefecture. At 0100, he will make his way to the marina, where the building in question is located. Duo lands without being detected, which he’s sure enough is true, and exits the Aries with a determined look severe enough to will a natural disaster to life. -- A.C. 205 – E-Cluster: Cherbourg-Octeville [XJ000000] Duo grunts, soaked in sweat, as he installs the last camera inside the walls of the only conference room in the building-by-the-sea. He rests briefly, noticing for the first time that the ebb and flow of the English Channel cannot be heard inside the building. Pity, Duo thinks, they should all at least have something nice to listen to before they die. Duo checks his watch and is pleased to find he is on-point with his timing. He has installed forty cameras throughout the building, as well as a massive amount of SASRs (especially the conference room), all wired to his handy laptop. It is now 0640, and Duo decides it is time to move to a safer destination. Duo moves his operations to a park half a mile away,
where he positions himself in a secluded area with a clear view of
his line of attack. And hour and twenty-minutes later, on the dot,
Duo’s guests arrive to the building-by-the-sea one by one, all
completely unsuspecting of their fate. All there, he thinks to himself, except for that strange, small woman, whose face is consistently hidden by her wide-brimmed hat. Marcel leads them all to the stark-white conference room with no windows. Duo switches cameras and activates the auto-lock he installed earlier. This goes unnoticed by all the attendees, and Marcel proceeds to shake each businessman’s hand with a prim smile. Finally, all the men sit down and to listen to Marcel’s proposal. “Welcome, gentlemen,” Marcel begins. “I am pleased that you have all come to finalize decisions on our wonderful merger. It will be a great undertaking, the merging of a respected salvaging company and a ship-building savant company such as Amsel Baum, but I ensure you that this merger will result in irrefutably the best partnership the After Colony years will ever see!” The men laugh heartily at Marcel’s bombastic words, playing cordially to his theatricality. Duo, however, is mesmerized by the unmoving, unresponsive big-hat woman (she at least should have the decency to take off that ridiculous hat, Duo thinks). “As you can see,” Marcel continues, once more gaining Duo’s attention, “Though Mr. Volans is not here, his personal investment is proven by the presence of his most trusted partner, Miss Liegen, whom I do not doubt you have heard of before, despite her penchant for being a little too inconspicuous. Right, gentlemen?” This elicits a hearty laughter from all the men. This must be Grizel Liegen, Duo thinks, but I thought it was only a rumor that she was Volans’ partner. Records don’t have her as an associate, she’s not on the payroll, her name has only been present in business minutes for only a few years, and yet she is some kind of presence in the Volans Network. Duo looks at her, barely even listening to Marcel’s pleasantries. If anything, she probably knows more about Volans and his plans than Marcel. Slight change of plans, but still good enough, Duo thinks. Marcel’s introduction ends (earning a “Thank God” from Duo) and the men agree to begin the contract-reading. One of the men excuses himself and asks the others to wait, as he needs to do some “business in the boy’s room,” but finds the door solidly shut. Duo grins with a trace of mania. “What the hell is the meaning of this, Marcel!” The businessman shouts, inciting panic within every man in the room. Before the man can get another word out, he is shot several times in several places by several rifles in the ceilings and walls with a tap of Duo’s finger. “Welcome to the jungle,” Duo murmurs sinisterly. His blood boils and flushes his cheeks with raw hunger and excitement. He grins, widely; deadly. He is no longer just Duo anymore. The darkness circles in his unforgiving eyes, swims in his salivating mouth, tingles sharply in his fingertips. The first sight of blood painting the conference room walls becomes his opiate. Tap, tap, tap. Businessman after businessman screams in agony, despair, and insanity as he is ripped apart by merciless bullets flying from every direction. Some die at Duo’s command; others fling themselves into Death’s arms without his help but due to their complete and utter helplessness. Flesh and blood drips lifelessly from the camera lens as Duo kills the last victim of circumstance, who looks directly into the hidden camera with a look of pure hopelessness. Duo tries to feel sorry but finds that he is unable to do so. Throughout the whole ordeal, Duo realizes that Grizel Liegen has not moved an inch. She remains sitting still, hat intact though drenched in blood. Keith Marcel lies on the ground, crying and half-screaming in a fetal position, rocking back and forth. Duo enters the next phase of his plan and sets the doors to open in five minutes. -- “Get a hold of yourself, Keith,” Grizel Liegen says, speaking for the first time. She hears the door unlock, seemingly expectant of it. “And get up so we can leave.” Keith Marcel, in a frenzy, looks up at Grizel looming over him. “It’s over? Is it over? We can leave? What happened? He’s going to kill us? Don’t let him kill me, don’t kill me!” He cries. Grizel bends down and grips his arm roughly, pulling him up to his feet. “It’s okay, Marcel, it’s over. We can go now.” Keith Marcel laughs and laughs as Grizel leads him back out to Port de Cherbourg, where their emergency transportation awaits them. They leave bloody footsteps in their wake, smudging the streets with used-up lives as they scream their voices hoarse in the name of escape. Keith Marcel feels a sense of relief as he watches his beloved black, lacquer-shined car roll up lovingly to his side, to his rescue. In no time at all, Keith Marcel is inside the leather-lined thing of beauty, kissing the windows in utter disbelief of his luck. That is, until he hears the car lock down suddenly and finds himself staring at the barrel of an antique semi-automatic Smith & Wesson CS45. Grizel, beside him, is unfazed, even though Duo is holding yet another gun at her head. “You look surprised to see me, Mr. Marcel,” Duo says in an affable manner. “On the other hand, you, Miss Liegen, do not look so surprised—which, in turn, surprises me very much,” Keith Marcel begins to cry, scream, and continue his frenzy, clawing at the doors and at Grizel Liegen, who angrily punches him in an effort to quiet him down. “I’ll tell you anything, anything, just please don’t kill me like you killed the others! Don’t kill me! I haven’t done anything!” He pleads at Duo. “Then tell me where Hilde is and why you motherfuckers took her,” Duo growls. “Hilde? Hilde Schbeiker?” Keith Marcel says, dumbfounded, but instantly ecstatic. “That’s what you killed them for? That’s why I’m here? Oh, thank God, I thought it was something I did! Well, that’s easy, Mister… what is it? Well, it doesn’t matter,” Duo’s heart beats rapidly. Finally, he thinks in relief. “Hilde Schbeiker is—” Before Marcel divulges the information that Duo desperately wants, the back windshield is shattered and he is mysteriously shot in the head. Duo’s eyes widen in utter despondency as Marcel’s smiling, half-delirious face slumps to the side, blood bubbling down from the hole in his head. Grizel Liegen sits still, properly, inhumanly. Still shell-shocked, Duo barely catches sight of Liegen’s hand pressing an unobtrusively-colored button somewhere on the side of her seat. Unable to stop her, Duo turns his head to the sound of the air conditioning turning on and spraying him with an anesthetizing substance that sends him spiraling into unconsciousness. Duo drops his guns and hears their slow-motion tumble to the bottom of the car. His body numbs and his vision slides comfortably into darkness as he watches as Hilde wipe Marcel’s blood from her face. -- A.C. 205 – The Winner Estate Quatre walks into the computer room with tea tray in hand, ready for another round of Hilde-hunting. He hands Trowa a cup, who gracefully gives him thanks as he continues reading about the movements of both Amsel Baum and the Volans Network. “It’s like the good old days, isn’t it Trowa?” Quatre says, amused. “Back to the old, misguided days of ours.” “Very much so, Quatre,” Trowa replies earnestly. “Though I can’t help but feel that this is somehow an unwise battle being fought between Duo and these L2 Networks.” “Even so, Trowa,” Quatre says, sitting beside him and opening windows of his own, “You could tell even just from his voice that whatever he’s fighting for is incredibly meaningful to him,” “That’s true,” Trowa says, looking directly at Quatre. “I would do the same for things that are meaningful to me.” Quatre smiles. “What was it that you told me once? That when we were pilots still, you learned that acting on your emotions saved your life? If that’s so, then Duo is doing the right thing,” Trowa reminisces briefly about those words. They hadn’t come from him. “I suppose,” Trowa says softly. “I hope we’re right.” A loud beeping interrupts their conversation and causes them to drop both their cups in a hurry to see what the system has found. [WARNING… E-CLUSTER XJ CHERBOURG-OCTEVILLE IN CODE RED… (1) MATCHING PERSONNEL ENTRY TO CLUSTER] Both Quatre and Trowa know precisely who the entry is. DUO MAXWELL, they read knowingly. They had used the system to list down all the possible locations Duo might attempt to access if and when he decided to indirectly contact the Volans Network or its affiliates. They did this to ensure that they would find him in the advent of new information regarding Hilde’s location and, moreover, his safety. “We should contact Heero,” Trowa says quietly. “Wouldn’t Heero already be in contact with Duo?” “Given this code red in the E-Cluster, Duo must have refused Heero’s help,” Trowa explains. “Heero wouldn’t risk that as Principal.” Quatre nods and summons the system’s call function. As the system attempts to contact the Peace Wing, Quatre says with a small laugh to Trowa, “Things have changed a lot since the good old days, haven’t they?” Trowa, smiling inwardly, looks at Quatre with warm sentiment. “Not everything,” He murmurs gently. Their attention is called to Heero’s hard, uncompromising presence, which neither of them has experienced personally in nearly a decade. Their glimpses of Heero were reserved to television appearances and glamorized newspaper photographs at the Vice Foreign Minister’s side. Seeing him in person, even just electronically, makes both of them feel partly in awe, partly nostalgic. “Hello, Heero!” Quatre says joyfully. “It’s nice to see you again!” “Good morning, Quatre,” Heero says courteously. “And Trowa, as well. To what do I owe this greeting?” “Have you received the recent reports from the Preventers in the E-Cluster yet?” Trowa says. Heero shakes his head. “No, I’m just about to get to them. What’s happened?” “There are reports there of some kind of civil unrest. No other news, yet, but some civilians heard loud noises and reported it to the Preventers, who’re just getting around to the scene now, but have already labeled it a code red,” Quatre explains. “How did you get hold of this news?” Heero inquires, not hiding his suspicion. Quatre is unsure of how to respond; he looks to Trowa to explain. “Do you know where Duo is right now?” Trowa asks. He notices the slight change in Heero’s bearing. “We think he might be involved in whatever might have happened there because, you see,” Quatre stammers, but Heero picks up from where he leaves off. “Because that’s supposedly where Corvus’ men are meeting with Volans’ partners, and you think Duo went there to try and force information from them regarding Hilde’s whereabouts.” “Yes,” Trowa says. “But more importantly, Heero, I think you should know,” “Know what?” Heero snaps unexpectedly, earning a strange, knowing look from Trowa. “We believe Duo might also be in danger,” Quatre says. “He’s sloppy, but he’s not so sloppy that he would leave a crime scene unchanged, especially if he was responsible for it.” “Also that Duo would have taken enough precautions to make sure there weren’t any survivors,” There is a long silence before Heero begins to speak again. “I see,” He says. “In that case, I thank you for your punctual report. Your nation thanks you.” Heero nods good-bye and both Quatre and Trowa are left somewhat at a loss for words—or rather, there is nothing more about the subject they can currently say. Everything, even the unfamiliar changes that they notice in Heero, is already spoken for in the weighty silence that followed the phone call. Quatre sighs and moves to clean up the spilled tea and broken porcelain. Trowa opens up a new window and attempts to call Duo, but ends up with nothing but a busy signal. -- A.C. 205 – Sanc Kingdom: The Peace Wing Heero sits inside his office, staring at the clinically-white walls of his office reflecting the wading morning sunlight in subtle angles. Yet even this is not able to tranquilize him; his mind is, suitably, elsewhere. Somewhere on the shores of the English Channel, or only God knows where if Quatre and Trowa are right. They were too far away to be able to do anything about it and too distant from the situation to feel any immediacy, any reason to it. Why won’t you just trust me? Heero closes his eyes and breathes deeply. He stands up, dismayed by his inability to find peace while sitting still. He leaves his office and proceeds to the desk, where a perky, attractive secretary happily gossips on the phone. At the sight of Heero’s looming figure, Miss Sphinx hastily says good-bye to her best friend and welcomes the Principal with a blinding smile. “Good morning, Principal Yuy,” She chirps cheerily. “How may I be of service to you?” “Miss Sphinx,” He greets her casually, falsely, as he’s learned to do with civilians unfamiliar to him. It is a show necessary to a position at ESUN—necessary, because appearances in this world are again necessary to instill peace within each and every civilian watching the ESUN’s every move. He is the protector of this peace, its Rock of Gibraltar, its eternal soldier. Yet recent events have made him doubt this raison d’être. He knows that there is only one way to reinforce his belief in the meaning of his life, and that is to eliminate the doubt. “I will be departing for an indefinite amount of time. Please inform the General that he is to take my place for the duration of my leave. Also, since the Minister Peacecraft is on vacation, it would be wise not to inform her of this, or of anyone but the General, so as not to incite any confusion or mystery,” Miss Sphinx, nods agreeably and dials the phone immediately to contact the General. Heero leaves the Peace Wing and arranges use of a semi-terrestrial glider jet, as well as provisional weaponry. He boards the jet and seats himself in the cockpit, arousing memories that lied dormant not too long ago. “Mission accepted, Duo,” He says. ~ * ~ |
