Author's Note: Haven't posted anything in this fandom for a while but I'm back for another go. To be honest, this story has been slow going, there are a couple things I'm not completely satisfied with. Nevertheless, it's a story I've been wanting to tell and while things may seem OOC for a bit, I hope that I correct that over time. Lot of exposition in this chapter, lot of background, but the next couple of chapters will heat things up a bit. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.
Warning: language
Chapter 1
Have you ever woken up one day and found that you completely hated your life? Not like in that teenage angst way where you were a prick who thought the world revolved around you and only you. No, more like you're an adult who wakes up, dreading the work day ahead, and finally having the epiphany that your life is not how you wanted it to be. You hate every single minute you have to breathe, hate having to pretend to be nice to the guys at the office who you have great dislike towards, and lastly you utterly loathe what it is you have to do for a paycheck at the end of the month.
Yeah, that's how Duo felt every day when he woke up from blissful slumber.
Ah, but where can such great hate come from without it being explained in an exposition that sums up everything in less than two minutes? In Duo's case though, as he mournfully left the warm cocoon of bedsheets, it was practically every day since he turned eighteen.
At this point in his life, you wouldn't think he had done much at all. That's where you'd be wrong. By the time he was sixteen, he was a war veteran, a pilot of an awesome, ass-kicking Mobile Suit known as a Gundam, survivor of poverty, disease, and massacres, a decent scrapyard owner and salvager, and, as the cherry on top of it all, a full time agent of the last military force in the solar system, the Preventers.
Put that all on a resume and he'd look like a fabulous applicant, wouldn't he? Well, maybe half of that stuff; some of it was to serve the only purpose of boosting his ego.
But he bets you're wondering something. Since everybody knows that there were four other Gundam pilots who also did some ass-kicking during the last couple of wars and revolutions, aren't they all comrades who are united to preserve the fragile peace that had taken hold?
Give him a moment to spit out the mouthful of toothpaste so that he can laugh his ass off at such a concept. No sense messing up the mirror or getting it all over his toothbrush. There, now it was safe. Cue gut-tearing laugh track.
By now, as you have guessed, the answer to that previous question is a resounding "no."
Why? You must be asking yourself. Why is he not bound mind and soul to these fellow soldiers who risked everything to bring peace not only to the Colonies from which they all hail from but to the entire planet Earth?
Duo figured that it started sometime after a certain incident in A.C. 197. He had forgotten the details of everything that had occurred early that year but the gist of it was that some armed terrorists took over the castle in the Sanc Kingdom, taking hostages of quite a few politicians and dignitaries, which also happened to include one Vice Foreign Minister Darlian. Or was it Peacecraft now? She changed her last name so many times that he had forgotten which one she was using currently.
Anyway, the douchebags had given some of the usual demands: free their imprisoned brothers, large amount of ransom, blah blah blah, or else they'd nuke the castle and everything in the Kingdom. How they got their hands on a nuclear device was anyone's guess at that point. He and the other pilots get called in to resolve the situation and long story short, they do.
It's the aftermath of that event that brings Duo to this point in time where he's finishing up tying his boots and heading for the door, grabbing the standard issued jacket that all Preventer agents were required to have. It was a dress code of sorts, a uniform that made them stick out and identified them with the public.
After those rabble-rousers were sent away to a prison far, far away, Duo had returned to the L2 Colony in which he had made his home. He liked having a home he could go back to, you know? He also liked the quiet life though early on he had found that he could only live such a life in measured quantities. Deep inside of him, there was a part of him that craved the action, the unpredictability, and the overall excitement that came with being a Gundam pilot.
He liked blowing stuff up. He liked pulling the trigger on a gun and shooting a fuck-you package of lead at anyone who pissed him off. He liked the running, the evading, and activity that came with such things but it was the adrenaline rush that came with the excitement that he so enjoyed.
Once you've experienced it, there's no going back. He figured it was a part of him he could control, giving measured dosages now and again to contain it until the next time. That terrorist-hostage situation had been such a dose for him and he left satisfied. Why go out on another mission if he didn't need anymore?
Someone seemed to have disagreed with that, though he had never found out who. A couple months after the terrorist incident, he got another call from Wufei, requesting his particular services.
He'd declined, originally, but after some thought had caved it. After that, he found he was starting to get more calls from the Preventers than he ever had before, and in shorter and shorter intervals.
By this time he was eighteen in good ol' A.C. 198, he had gotten an invite to come on down to Preventer HQ.
In hindsight, he should have refused from the beginning. The end-of-the-world scenarios, he could tolerate if not accept. Those things tended to happen, even if the people behind them tended to be pussies who thought themselves high and mighty just because they had a gun on them.
But really, covert operations? Spy missions? Preemptive sabotage? Before he had known it, he was up to his elbows in this kind of shit and by the time he had turned eighteen, the Preventers had wanted him as a full time employee. Of course, he had been just speculating about his age, eighteen. He didn't really know what his birthday really was so had picked one at random which seemed to feel right. He could have been seventeen for all he knew.
Back to the story, he had ended up being impressed into the ranks. He had dreaded the call he had to make to his business partner, Hilde, a firecracker of a girl he had met during the previously mentioned wars, and tell her that he wasn't coming back to L2 anymore. Explaining the situation, he found her getting pissed off not at him but at the government but he had to be quick to calm her down.
No sense provoking her to starting her own terrorist cell. That was the last thing any of them needed. And he would hate to have to be the one to put a bullet in her. Just because she once aimed a gun at him didn't mean he had to return the favor.
A couple years later and it didn't matter anymore. He hadn't been the only one to find himself in this position. Only Trowa and Quatre had been "persuaded" to join like he had been but he found that he was the only one who seemed to resent it.
Trowa, according to what he had learned later, had just shrugged and said fine. He'd miss the circus but would use his vacation time to take care of that matter. He'd also demanded a lot of vacation time if you were wondering. Whether they gave it to him or not, Duo did not know.
As for Quatre, he was the only one who wasn't a full time. Thanks to his standing as a Winner and just how big the family business was, he could afford to set the terms of his employment. And who was the government to tell a member of the Winner family what they could or could not do? About once every two weeks, for about three days, Quatre would leave to take care of business at Winner Enterprises, Inc., sign what he needed to sign, attend meetings that he had to attend and other executive stuff like that. While he claimed only to be part time, Duo found that Quatre tended to stay at Preventer HQ more than he did at home.
The only other two pilots, Wufei and Heero, were something else altogether. Wufei had willingly joined as a full time member when the group was first started so no sympathy would be found there. Heero, while a Preventer by name, was more like Relena's full time bodyguard. So yeah, the poster boy of Gundam pilots and mental issues wasn't at the office, at all.
So there was only four of them, Duo mused as he maneuvered his way through traffic, heading for the nondescript building that few would ever associate to be HQ. Last he heard, it had been Une's idea to have two buildings serve as HQ, both connected by a parking garage. One building would be plain looking, which is where the real business of the organization would be done and the other flamboyantly designed so that if some grudging upstarts wanted to bomb them, they'd go for that one.
Smart idea, Duo supposed as he turned into the parking garage. Give everybody the idea that you were not concerned with being open with the public while literally hiding everything in your shadow. Yes, when the sun was just right, the taller and more gaudy of the two buildings cast its shadow over the other, making the previous analogy literal.
Finding his usual space, he parked and shut down the car, sighing as he psyched himself for another day in the trenches. He really, really hated this. The fact that he had spent the entire time from waking up to getting here telling the story of how far things had come from A.C. 197 to now was just so depressing to him.
It was like he did it for some faceless audience that didn't exist and he would never meet. Who cared about his misery so long as this peace was upheld?
Yeah, he understood why people wanted to keep it this time. He really did. He fought for it after all. But why did he have to continue sacrificing for it? Couldn't the rest of the world do it? Well, whatever, he had to do his community service for the rest of his life. He had blown up all that shit and—well hello. He squinted as his rearview mirror, his sharp eyes picking out a shape.
The shape was obviously a person but from the way they were huddled, he could tell that this person was obviously hiding. He had a pretty good idea what they were doing as this hadn't been the first time he had come across this. Well, best to check it out, just in case it was really a threat though he doubted it was.
He slipped out through the passenger side of his vehicle instead of the driver's side. The person was to his left and he wanted to keep some cover for the moment until he could confirm his suspicions. He slipped around a couple neighboring cars and over to the next row, dashing across the open area that cars drove up and down on to find other parking spaces.
Peeking around the cars, he eventually spotted the person he had seen through his mirror and his face morphed into an expression of amusement. Oh, it was her again. This was going to be, what, the tenth time he caught her in here and would have to report her to security? If there wasn't such anti-gun sentiment out there, he could have put an end to her a long time ago. Seriously, lady, you weren't going to find some kind of scoop or story in the parking garage of the Preventers.
Crouching behind her, he turned his gaze in the same direction she was looking, making sure to keep her in his peripheral. Mischievously, he let a couple minutes past before alerting her to his presence. The shock scare she was going to get was always worth it.
"Running late?" he asked softly, not bothering to hide the small grin that was forming on his face.
"Damn right he is," the woman answered him. "How long does it take to get out of a car?"
"Less than a minute, two if you're in no hurry," he answered her calmly.
He saw her tense and slowly turn to face him, and man was her expression totally worth it.
"Any good reason why you're in here, again?" he asked. "Please, try to give a creative excuse Miss. Carrey. They are the highlight of my day."
Jessica Carrey was quite the youthful and attractive woman but her persistence in trying to uncover some dirt on anybody whom she had her investigative sights on had really taken away any appeal she had. The slightly tanned skin, the long blonde hair with brown highlights, and the clear blue eyes that invited you to spill your guts was not a bad combination but too much exposure took away their novelty.
"Care to give me something for my next article?" Jessica Carrey asked him, recovering quickly, standing up from her crouch. Duo followed after her, relaxing his body but not his tongue. Reporters, nothing was ever off the record with them.
"How about 'young adult woman forcefully escorted off Preventer property by security,'" he said dryly. "Pack it up and go. "I'll give you a minute headstart before I let the guys at the front desk know about you."
"Don't be like that," she pouted at him. "I have a deadline and I haven't gotten anything! Just one little tidbit? Please?"
"You got fifty seconds," he replied. "Stop sneaking in here already." He wasn't about to mention the talk of having a restraining order put on her. That would go over well when it came out in tomorrow's paper. He could see the headline now and everything. PREVENTERS RESTRICT FREE PRESS! That'll go over like pneumonia in the intensive care ward.
"Oh come on!" she whined after him as he moved around her, heading back to his car.
Opening the driver side this time, he reached in and took out his phone, making a show of opening it and dialing a number. He didn't send it or anything as he heard the sound of high heels scurrying away. She still had about thirty-five seconds and if there was something he wasn't, it was a liar. He'd give her the time he promised but he was still going to call security. They knew the routine by now.
Odd how it was only him who kept encountering her. Maybe she had had less than friendly calls with the other guys. Yeah, that was probably it. Maybe he needed to start getting assertive.
Office. Breakroom. Office. Office. Cubicle. Cubicle. Pathway. And down the pathway we go. Alright, cubicle one, cubicle two, cubicle three, four, five, six…
Here we are. Good ol' cubicle number eight. His home away from home smack dab in the middle of purgatory. Sigh, great to be back. Note the sarcasm. He let himself slump into the wheelie chair that all work drones seemed to be issued no matter where they worked and started up the computer than he had turned off only the night before. Shrugging off the standard issue Preventers jacket, he put in his password and waited for the computer to upload.
While waiting for the crappy thing to load, he looked over at the monthly schedule he had pinned on the wall. Oh goodie, it was a paperwork day. Write up reports on some of the newbies that were going through bootcamp and give recommendations. Right. Didn't it used to be that you were just plopped into the middle of a war and told to shoot the other guys and don't get shot yourself? Wait, that was when drafts were still in effect. Never mind.
He paused, the scent of roasted coffee beans, Hawaiian roasted to be precise, wafted into his nostrils and growing stronger by the second. Waiting for only a second more to confirm that indeed someone was approaching, he got back to work, writing down the name of the first recruit on the standard issue report form, double checking to make sure he got the spelling right.
Heat radiated close by and the smell of coffee beans grew stronger, sure signs that someone was offering him a cup of coffee. He held a hand up, shaking it in the negative. He had woken up in a bad mood this morning and he didn't think a little thing like coffee was going to get him out of the funk. Sure the caffeine would be welcomed but he was not in the mood for it today.
Instead, he said out loud, "Found that stalker in the garage again. Does anybody know how she keeps getting in?"
"Not at all," a light and friendly voice replied. Ah, he should have known it was Quatre. Only Quatre was polite enough to not block any dim light that was shining at him. That, and the fact that he could hear the soft shuffle that was his footsteps. If it had been Wufei, he would have been able to feel his footsteps while with Trowa you couldn't hear or feel them. "But you know reporters. Anything for a scoop that will make them their careers."
"Think she'll try something different?" he grumbled as he made another mark on the report sheet. "It's obvious that the approach she's using is not working."
"The definition of insanity, Duo. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result." There was a small chuckle in there somewhere but Duo did not join in. Let's just say that his humor had dried up a while ago.
"Then someone should commit her. Or me," he added. "Get me out of having to do these performance reviews."
"Anything to get out of work, eh?" Yeah, yeah, treat it like a joke, Quatre. If only you knew how serious he was. "You know, if you're feeling stressed, you could go out with the guys and me for a drink. I'd pay for it."
Free drinks, eh? A kind offer but one he had turned down time and again. Sure, Quatre was the sole pilot whom he liked (platonically speaking) but despite that, he'd rather keep their relationship professional. If you want to know why, he thought he had already explained that in his exposition. Still, it didn't make him feel any less guilty with knowledge that he was going to have to let down that hopeful look Quatre was giving him.
"You're not busy tonight, are you?" he heard the blond ask him, not really taking the hint that he was going to turn the invite down. Or maybe he had taken the hint but wanted to push him a bit, see if it might provoke him into accepting.
He had never accepted one yet but that didn't mean Quatre didn't quit trying. Props for the guy for his determination. Most people would have given up on him by now but that was Quatre for you.
"Loaded," he replied. "I got to drive home and make myself some TV dinner, probably frozen through by now, and watch some mind numbing TV shows until I pass out from sheer boredom. I've had this thing scheduled for the past few weeks and I don't think I'd be able to cancel at the last minute."
He could hear the amusement in Quatre's reply, though whether or not he caught some of the sarcasm, Duo could not say. "Sounds like you're really busy. Still, if you could try, maybe you could pencil us in for an hour or two. You'd still be able to get back for that frozen dinner and the networks will more than likely be showing reruns. Keep that in mind, okay?"
Still trying and still hoping. Once again, he had to say it, that was Quatre for you. Now that he thought about it, perhaps Quatre himself was a little insane. Doing the same thing over again, asking him to go out with him and the guys for social drinking, and hoping that he'll accept when he never has before. Expecting a different outcome than the one that always happened. Yep, that went with that definition.
By now, Quatre had left, leaving him all to his lonesome. That sat well with him; he wasn't in a very social mood right now. Sighing, he let his hands fall into his lap. He hadn't been in a social mood in two years, not since he had turned eighteen. Christ, what was happening to him? Usually he was more upbeat than this. In fact, there had been times in the past where he had talk to himself just to hear his own voice.
Was he making himself depressed over this shit? Probably but then again, he had never wanted to be in this situation before. He hadn't wanted to be a full-time Preventer agent, subject to the whims of someone else who now had more control over his life than even he did. And he was taking his frustrations out on the other guys. Not fair to a couple of them, he would admit, but then again, there were times when he felt like he was on the outside.
Yes, he had teamed up with them before, sometimes one of them, sometimes all of them at the same time, but he had always felt that there had been something between him and them, something that prevented him from fully wanting to be one of the group.
He felt it at fifteen, or what he assumed was fifteen, and he still felt it now.
Funny. He fought to give peace to the world and the Colonies but he couldn't get peace of mind for himself. Was that the price he paid when he accepted G's deal to steal the Deathscythe?
Whatever. He brought his hands up, pushing aside the previous performance review and moving on to the next. He wasn't being paid to think anymore, just do what he was told like a dog on a leash.
As he was in the middle of writing down the second recruit's name, his phone rang, causing him to press too hard on his pen and make an unsightly mark on the report sheet. Fucking perfect.
Extending an arm out, he snatched up the phone, about to say his own name before he stopped himself. That's right, certified Preventer agents didn't respond to calls, whether they were apart of the Preventers or not, with their real names. He had called himself so many names by now that he couldn't keep track of them anymore.
"Agent Nightmare," he stated into the receiver, rolling his eyes at the codename. Just because he wore black and called himself Death every once in a while didn't mean they had to stick him with such an obvious name like that.
He frowned at the official voice on the other end. An official voice that had a feminine tint to it. Oh, he recognized who it was. What did the boss lady want with him now? He hadn't been on any assignments recently. Nothing to complain about or stick to him…unless he was about to get another one.
"Be there in a minute," he said into the phone, hanging it up as he got out of his chair. Slinging the jacket onto his shoulders, he trudged out of the cubicle, heading towards Conference Room 1. It was the only conference room where he was given any assignments and he didn't need anyone to tell him that was where he needed to go.
Goddamn predictability.
Conference Room 1 was more like a war room you'd find in a cheesy B-movie but that was only when the lights were off. Most of the time the lights were on so you not only saw the monitors that tended to show physical layouts that were important to upcoming missions but also the large conference table that looked relatively normal.
When he had first seen it, Duo had expected some sort of hologram project fitted right in the center of the large piece of furniture but was sorely disappointed when such was not the case. Yeah, go ahead and ruin the surreal experience he was going for why don't you.
Had he been a few years younger (damn that made him feel old), he would have been one of the last ones here and the loudest to boot. Instead, he was literally the first person here and the quietest. How far had he fallen?
The second person to arrive was none other than the boss lady herself, Director Une. Now, he'll be the first to say this: he preferred her without the buns. No really, that old hairdo with the twin buns made her so much more severe and a bit scary to tell the truth. At least with her hair down, she looked slightly more approachable but only slightly.
She was still pretty severe though it was not often that she had to raise her voice to express it.
He greeted her with a nod, not bothering to say anything. As a general rule, he preferred to say the most minimal with her because deep down, he was still a little afraid of her. All the stories he had heard of what she was able to do, from threatening to blow up a Colony to her personality splitting, sheesh. She wasn't even a Gundam pilot and she still could compete with them for larger amounts of mental problems.
All he got was a nod back as she took her seat at the head of the table, taking out the folders and document that she would need for this shindig. For a moment, he wondered what it was that he was going to be in store for this time. Did it require sneaking in? A quick in-and-out with some B and E added to the mix? Or was it a long-term infiltration to sabotage some up and coming rebel group before they could reach their prime?
Oh, there were so many to choose from.
Silence reigned for a few moments before the door to the conference room opened again, only this time there was some chatting and more than one person entering. Had to be the other three pilots. Wufei's voice was there, answering or commenting about something that more than likely came from Quatre. Trowa, even now, wasn't that much of a talker but man when he spoke, you listened.
He locked eyes with the more taciturn of the three, first with Wufei and then with Trowa. Neither seemed surprised he had beat them here nor did they expect to hear him greet them. Quatre, always trying Quatre, sent him a small smile which he reciprocated with a nod. He swore, he could see the corner of Quatre's mouth twitch when he didn't get more than that.
Wow, he was really a trying person, wasn't he?
He pulled his gaze away from the only blond in the room and towards Une, watching as the woman in charge traded looks with each and every one of them. Probably taking a headcount, he supposed. Unless she was expecting someone else, then they were all here.
"Agents," she greeted, turning her gaze down towards the folders and documents that she had taken out earlier. "I hope that you are all in good health."
Uh oh. He could tell where this was going now just by the words she used. A new assignment had come up. Oh, he wondered what it was this time.
"For the most part, I believe we are," Quatre told her politely. "Has something come up?"
"Indeed, something has," Une replied, agreeing with the blond's assessment. "During a recent operation, two of our agents came across something that I found needed to be checked on immediately."
"What is it this time?" Wufei asked though Duo had the feeling he wanted to demand instead. The Chinese pilot had never been one for patience, especially when something important had come up.
"There's a story behind this one so I ask ahead of time for your patience," Une stated, once again taking them all in. Duo folded his arms over his chest, waiting for her to go on. "A few days ago, we instigated a raid on the Kamchatka peninsula where we found a large cache of arms being distributed to various parties on Earth. This time around, we found that someone had made a directory where the arms were going and it was decided that we would follow up on them, see what came up.
"Already, we have found links with certain rebellious factions, most of which are stationed in the Russian provinces. There was an exception, though, and it is this exception that I have called you all here. One of the containers of arms found was selected to go to an old Alliance base."
"Weren't all those closed down by the end of the Eve Wars?" Quatre asked, forgetting that she had asked for them to keep quiet.
"I was about to get to that," Une told him calmly. "I sent two of our agents to further investigate and they found some activity occurring. Satellite imaging has confirmed that there are people there but what they are doing, at this point we do not know. For the past couple of days, we have been observing what is going on but nothing of substance has seemed to come out of it."
Ah, he was beginning to figure out where this was going. Peeking at the others, Duo figured that the others had also come to the same conclusion as he had. At least they were on the same page.
"So what are we going to do?" Wufei asked. "Are there any procedures that you would like us to observe or do we have free reign?"
"Right now, I do not want to let anyone inside that base know that we are aware of them," Une stated. "However, I also want to know what it is that they are up to. What are they doing that would require military weapons and ammunition, and lastly, who they are."
"So your boys haven't found out anything new, is that it?" he asked, putting his two cents into this.
"Only that people go in and rarely do they leave," Une explained seriously. "Since this is a recon mission, I want the smallest amount of destruction necessary so my recommendations would be that two of you infiltrate while the others wait on stand-by, providing cover only if things get out of hand."
"We understand," Quatre nodded. "We can take it from here."
"I would like to stay and see what you come up with," Une told him.
"Oh? Why's that?" the blond asked curiously.
"Some of the instructors down in recruitment and training are curious about how former Gundam pilots strategize and produce, and I quote, 'incredible' results. That and I want to play this one close to the chest. There's no sense letting something that may only be a pebble become a mountain."
"Fair enough," Quatre replied, turning towards the rest of them. "We're going to need blueprints and a layout of the area. Depending on those, we'll figure out who gets to bite the bullet and go in."
"Or we could just agree that Nightmare and I will be the ones," Trowa said, speaking up for the first time. "Both of us have the skills to go in and out in a relatively short amount of time."
"I want to know about anything that might demand different expertise before making such a determination," Quatre responded. "For all we know right now, Agent Night may be what we need."
"I believe we're only trying to find out what's going on, not blow the place up," Trowa returned. With a glance towards Wufei, he added, "No offense."
"None taken, Forest" Wufei said, not at all insulted.
Ah, to hear those awful codenames again. At least with the other guys, they got ones that didn't immediately make you think of them.
"These are the satellite images," Une interrupted the slight banter as she slid the printed colored images over to them. From his vantage, Duo could see that each one captured the facility at different views. Yes they were all from above but some of them were zoomed in more than others.
"Odd," Trowa commented as he picked up one of the prints. "They have part of the perimeter on the lake."
"Perhaps this base dealt with marine-type weapons," Wufei commented as took another of the prints. "A lake isn't the most reliable geographical feature to use as a defensive barrier."
"No, I mean they built a wall through the lake," Trowa corrected as he pushed the picture he had over to Wufei. "They've cornered off a portion of it and according to the imaging, it's the shallow part. Fifteen feet deep at least. The fact that they even build a wall like this tells me that whoever built this did not intend to use the lake for any purpose."
"That is curious," Quatre agreed, looking at a print that had more detail than the one Trowa had looked at. "The entire perimeter is walled off. It looks more like a prison than any kind of military base that I've ever heard of."
"So then we'll have to think like we're breaking into a prison instead of a base," Duo pointed out, feeling he had to contribute. "If we figure how we could try to break out of this place, we reverse it so that we break in instead."
"I think there's more to it than that," Quatre replied, his brow creasing. "We can't destroy anything or else that would alert everyone there that we are trying to get in."
"In my experience, breaking into the compound is the easy part. It's getting past the walls that we have a problem," Duo argued. Taking a good look at one of the prints, he said, "Hey, isn't that the front gate right there?"
"Sneaking in through the front, huh?" Trowa said, looking thoughtful. Looking over at Une, he asked, "How often do vehicles go through that gate?"
"Too few," Une answered. "There's not enough traffic going through."
"So there's a good chance they'll be able to recognize the drivers by sight," Quatre murmured. "Still, is there a usual time when any trucks enter? Perhaps we could still intercept one and plant someone on it."
"How heavily guarded is the gate?" Wufei asked. "If there are one or two guards, perhaps we can still sneak around them or at least knock them out long enough. Since there is low traffic going in and out of the base, there's probably not a lot of attention there."
This was almost like the old days. Everybody pitching in, throwing ideas around before a solid plan was decided on. Yeah they were missing someone but as long as they had the right intel, the four of them could still work some magic.
In the meantime, Duo would resign himself to the fact that he wasn't going to be having a frozen TV dinner tonight.