Bishi Pile Challenge:
Major challenge response: Shadows, Organisation, Trust
Minor challenge response: Codes
Word count: 2,166
Series: Friends : Friends and Enemies
Author: Karina
Pairings: 6+2, 3x4, 1+R
Ratings: M 15+ [In Australia] Rated in the event of bad language and violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters.
Warnings: No apology given for Aussie spelling, but fair warning given.
Many thanks to Katie for betaing this fic.
Character Challenge:
Friends and Enemies
Chapter 1
Une was present, silent and watchful. He did not need to see her to know; he could feel her and the intensity of her glare. She would not thank him for Preventers becoming involved in his mess. She would be that darker patch of shadow within the shadow cast by the hanger.
She would be present to ensure her Preventers were safe.
He could only hope her influence was enough for her people to be spared repercussions in the aftermath.
There were at least six, five waiting and one, at minimum, remaining in the operations van parked to one side. A plain, nondescript white van just like thousands of other white vans to be found all over Europe. It was what lay within the shell that distinguished the organizations vehicles.
"I do not like this."
Barton breathed the words, watching as the van was directed by one of the five to reverse to the open hatch of the helicopter. Chang stood in the cockpit doorway, silent, watchful. Cold as the oriental alabaster figurine Treize had admired, a remnant of his ancestors exploits in ancient China. Were it not for the cold weather gear Chang would look very much like that calcite figurine, all perfect lines and cold perfection.
Yuy was silent, a shadow in the cabin, watching, blue eyes intense.
He had to give the three of them credit. The moment the doors opened he could feel them tightening up, poised for action, reacting to the tension. Recognising the close proximity to impending violence.
They did not know Une was watching, not as yet, but even her presence was no guarantee they would escape. They were witnesses and he was an embarrassment to… someone. An embarrassment and a threat to their ambitions.
If she managed to get them away from the airport the best thing she could do would be to assign the three well away from Earth on a mission involving deep undercover work. Out of sight, hard to find… they might be deemed insignificant; not worth the effort of locating.
If They kept their eyes on him and expected him to react quickly and efficiently then They, who ever They might be revealed to be, might be too busy to notice the activities of those who had assisted in rescuing him.
The Preventers had played only a minor part in the overall game.
He would be acting soon enough, though hopefully his reaction to the actions taken against him might not be what others expected.
"Have you a gun?"
Yuy had moved closer, eyes on the five watching them, his voice low.
"Not necessary."
He could feel the disbelief from Yuy and even Chang reacted, snorting and shifting slightly. Barton grunted, tilting his head a little as he scanned the tarmac.
"Sure about that are you?"
Oh yes, Mr. Chang Wu Fei, he was sure. He had learned a long time ago that if you had a weapon at hand you relied on it too heavily to the exclusion of all sense. Besides, his weapon of choice was not something you brought to hand and aimed manually. His preferred weapons were far more subtle than a bullet between the eyes.
"Quite sure."
Hopefully Maxwell had made himself scarce and was already digging himself into a nice deep hole. Yuy had informed him Duo had split off from their flight path and that pleased him. He need not concern himself with Duo's immediate survival, merely his own, unless Une proved to be incapable of watching out for her own people.
"Zechs…" Yuy, sotto voiced, was clearly not impressed with the situation.
"I expected this."
What he did not know would dictate his course of action in the next few minutes.
Who was it who had ordered the make up of his reception committee?
He needed to answer that question quickly. He needed to know how quickly he needed to react when they were out of sight of the Preventers. It was possible those five would kill them all here and now, but he doubted it. More likely the Preventers would be spared, at least for now, and in the privacy of the van he would need to watch for the assassin's blade.
They could slip a knife between his ribs as he was settled in the van and, if any of the three Preventers managed to get a look into the van, they could claim he had passed out. When the attempt came it would be quick and quiet and eminently efficient. It would only take one of these six agents to be working for the parties he now classed as the enemy.
Five out of the van, one driver and potentially one, maybe two in the back of the van. Who commanded the extraction team? Was it an agent he had trusted or a stranger? Or one of the few he had no time for? Who had been converted? Who had remained true to the ideal of the group? Who had soured and worked now to a bloodier way of influencing world events?
Such a fine line of distinction could be drawn between Friends and Enemies. Sometimes the two were practically indistinguishable.
Lonely as it was, he had learned to trust no one.
A brief vision of blue eyes tinted violet with emotion, a hard glint of determination and cold clear intelligence… and an undertone of tragedy.
No one?
Did he dare to trust there?
Life had proven that someone always wanted something from him. Treize had wanted his loyalty, his unquestioning trust. Noin had wanted a dream, a fantasy of setting up house, a wedding band and babies. Nice fantasy, but fantasy undoubtedly. Une had wanted him out of the way, jealous of the attention Treize had paid him. She was here only to protect her own. Relena…
Well, what could he say about her? His sister had not known he existed and when she did know of him she had wanted her imagined ideal of a big brother. A brother who would indulge her and who would do everything she wanted.
Harsh...and as much a lie as it was the truth.
Relena wanted from him what he could not give. He did not know her any more than she knew him, but he understood her as she could not understand him. He gave her what he could, giving of himself to seeing her ideal of peace survived long enough for people to decide it needed modification to have a hope in hell of surviving beyond a single generation maturing.
Now he had to discredit an organization that was being taken down into darkness and that would, if its descent continued, be the ruin of the woman's ideals for a peaceful world.
A pity, because they had worked well for managing the peace quietly and unobtrusively.
"We will take it from here."
Not a known face. Mark that one for a possible assassin. Cold brown eyes, unruly black hair, hand never straying far from a concealed weapon. That one knew who they were, by the glint in his eye, and he would have liked to test how good the one time Gundam pilots were.
Don't ask them anything. Remain silent.
Don't even move to scratch your arse.
That was all they had to do, just stay still and silent and let it happen. Then they would go and his fate need no longer concern them and he would get on with the serious business of finding out who had tried to kill him.
Yuy was watching him, blue eyes agate hard but there was something moving in those cold depths that made him tense. He willed the man to stay out of it, to let it go and get on with the serious business of deciding if he dared to court a Princess who was a member of a government hell bent on giving everybody what they wanted.
Thought they wanted.
You could not please everybody and trying to would only bring the whole cobbled together design of this peace crashing down around their ears. When Yuy decided to get serious, whichever way he jumped about the relationship issue, he would keep her safe. That much he could trust the man to do.
The rear doors of the van were opening and he saw Barton tense, felt Yuy inch closer. Chang stirred, a subtle shift that had the stranger tensing up, but his hand remained that carefully prescribed distance from his weapons.
"Debriefing will prove interesting."
Marcus.
A quick shimmer of light over the lens of glasses and the lithe red head was grinning with his customary brilliance. Dressed in the charcoal black of an operations uniform he nodded in a familiar fashion to the watching Gundam pilots and hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the other agent.
"Get the team moving. I'll take care of this."
The chill grew and the red head ignored the glares, hoisting himself up to balance in the doorway and, continuing to ignore the three younger men and the dour agent at his back, he leaned toward Zechs with a wicked grin.
"How bad is the damage?"
Yuy tensed and Zechs dared to flick a finger in a hold signal, watching both men, willing them to act naturally. Marcus, with his body shielding his action, slipped a com device under the Preventer issue blanket, shadowing a wink and reached for the cleats securing the stretcher to the deck. Yuy bent to those securing the head of the stretcher and glared, silent, but Zechs read the question and answered it with the faintest flicker of an eyelash.
Marcus was known to him and the fact he had been slipped the com suggested he would not be without a neutral ear, if they could get the time and opportunity to speak. Glancing at the other operative Zechs doubted that would happen. He slipped a hand under the blanket and slid the com protectively under his thigh; uncomfortable but it would not drop out during the transfer.
"Annoying."
Meaning if he had to act he would and was capable, he only hoped the bastard eyeing him off like he wanted to test that would not tempt fate.
"Time's wasting, Bradford. Get your men moving."
The stretcher was swung around to face the van feet first, putting Zechs into a position where he could look into the back of the vehicle. He could see one other man, a shadowed figure hunched over an array of high tech panels. So they would not be alone in the rear of the van, enough warning to watch what was said, not that he would have been talkative.
Eight of them, and only one possibly friendly to him. Possibly. He had worked with Marcus on a number of occasions and liked the man well enough to account him as hovering somewhere between acquaintance and friend. It was possible though that Marcus was no friend, merely there to deceive… or he too could be marked for elimination and this was considered a convenient time to snare two agents who could ask uncomfortable questions.
"You have what you came for, Commander. I suggest you move your tardy butts."
Une, and she sounded cold as ice. Zechs saw Barton stiffen and heard Chang shift, moving closer to the open door. Yuy remained silent and Zechs could feel the tension flare in him. It appeared none of the three were pleased to see the Ice Lady.
The stretcher slid smoothly into the van, pressed tight to the wall to make room for the other men. Marcus inclined his head briefly to Yuy, ignored Une and jumped up into the van, reaching to close the doors as he did so.
Zechs spared one glance over his shoulder. Chang stood in the open hatch, Barton beside him. Yuy stood on the tarmac, Une moving to flank him, and the agent identified as Bradford was glaring so intensely he expected Yuy to spontaneously combust.
The doors slammed shut and the interior of the van was instantly swathed in heavy shadow. More than the one vehicle then. He was not sure he liked that.
"Ready to go." Marcus glanced at the com agent.
"Recovery One enroute to extraction point…. Acknowledged Command."
The agent at the monitors had one hand pressed to an earphone and the other on a control, changing radio frequencies Zechs knew.
"Commander, we are instructed to proceed to the extraction point. Extraction is Green."
Marcus settled on the floor of the van beside him, back pressed to the doors, tense, watching the com man as intently as Zechs. Nor did he relax when the man slapped the driver's shoulder through the small hatch in a signal to move out. Zechs strained to hear anything from outside; afraid he might hear the beginnings of a fire fight, but all remained still as the van pulled smoothly away from the helicopter.
He could only hope the tarmac would not run red.
End
Karina Robertson 2010
