Let's see...where did I leave my Wuffie-chan...ah yes! Down a hole with the others and a really big pile of explosives! Oh boy! Fun wow! =*_*= Don't worry, minna, I'll try and get them out...no promises, though. Shounen-ai 1x2, angst and suffering ahead. Rated R for language and mild gore.

A.N. All, I repeat, ALL of the text in italics, excepting single words in other people's dialogue, but including the dream/memory sequence, are Heero's thoughts. =^_~= Didja get all that? Good.

Disclaimer #1: I don't own GW...*cries*...but if I DID own it, things would be SO different, but then again if "ifs and buts" were candy and nuts, we'd all weigh 300 pounds, so there. =P

Disclaimer #2: I was an English major, so when I write, I write wordy. You have been warned. =P

~~~~~~~~~~

Heero whirled around and hollered at his team. "IT'S A TRAP! GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!!" Five pilots bolted for the escape tunnel, abandoning all but what was in their hands. Trowa shoved Quatre ahead of him into the tunnel, and followed as quickly as he could. Wufei and Duo reached the exit next in line.

Heero sprinted across the cave, but was violently jerked backwards as a strap on his backpack hooked onto a stalagmite and wouldn't let go. While Wufei began his hasty climb, Duo looked back and saw Heero struggling to free himself. He had only made it halfway across the cave.

Duo started running back to him, shouting. "Heero!"

"No! Keep going!" he yelled back, almost out of the straps. Gambling that Heero's speed on his feet would make up for the time he lost, Duo ran back to the tunnel. He had barely begun skidding across the smooth surface when the blast hit.

The horrid, booming sound of dynamite and plastic explosives filled every inch of the cave, the tunnels, the pilot's shaking forms. The escapees were thrown to the ground inside the narrow passage, and crawled frantically forward as the very walls shook and heaved, threatening to collapse and smother them. More and more blasts rocked the entire network of catacombs, and to either side they could hear gruesome crunches as other tunnels collapsed, their dying echoes rumbling along on the heels of the first shockwave.

Minutes later, the garish noises had condensed down to coughing and scratching, as the team half-crawled, half-stumbled up to the smallish cavern they had visited before.

Duo's eyes were on fire. Even if he could open them, there was nothing to see, but there was a wet, stinging dust everywhere, saturating the air and nearly making him choke.

Mercifully, a hand clutched his at last, then two more, and he felt arms all around him, pulling him to his feet. He had made it as far as the little cavern and the air was a bit clearer there. He rubbed his eyes gingerly with his shirt cuff and blinked away the dust. Trowa, Quatre and Wufei were still staring down the corridor.

There was no sign of Heero.

Duo pushed past the others and shone his light down the hall, eyes wide with panic. Visibility was next to nothing because of the dust. "Heero!" he shouted. They strained to hear a response; none came. "HEERO!!"

Duo began choking on the dust and needed Trowa to hold him upright. All four looked at each other, their gazes quickly settling on Duo. He was second in command, after all. He pulled his sleeve up over his hand and covered his nose and mouth with the excess fabric. The others followed suit, and the four of them carefully crept back down the way they came, back to where their leader had fallen.

**********

Two drunken louts in faded, tattered OZ uniforms staggered through the jungle, victorious. Like the braggarts they were, they sang songs from the war and laughed raucously at their good fortune. Even so, before they left the scene of their triumph, Louch insisted on blowing up the entrance to the cave for good measure, because he didn't believe in relying on luck. Not anymore.

Still insensible with drink, he pulled a miniature metal detector from his pocket, and waved it around carelessly. After no more than a half-hour's walk, he found what he knew must be hiding with them in the underbrush--the jeep the pilots had used to get there from the native village two hours' drive away. All Louch and Burt had been able to afford was a guide to show them as far as the point where the dirt road morphed into a rough trail through the bush, marked by notches in the bark of rubber trees.

Clearing the branches and moss off the vehicle, the ex-soldiers grinned at each other. They'd be going back in style.

**********

The ringing in Heero's ears didn't stop for a long time.

Am I dead?

He tried to move something, anything, but found he couldn't.

Damn. My final mission was a failure. That really ticks me off.

Heero sighed, bringing not only a coughing fit, but the realization that he was still breathing. His senses slowly returned to him one at a time. He could hear the incessant dripping of water, apparently unfazed by the cataclysm. It was pitch black around him, but he couldn't tell if he was blind or if his flashlight had been smashed by the explosion. The smell of blasting powder was in the air, and if he inhaled through his mouth, he could taste the bitter atmosphere on his tongue. That left only one sense remaining...

"Aaaaahhhhhrrrrrrrgggggghhhhh!!" His sense of touch returned, and an intense, crushing pain had decided to tag along for the ride. Heero grit his teeth together and clenched his fists, using every last ounce of his training to stop himself from screaming again. The pain, the agony, it was horrible, it was unbearable, it was...it was coming from his legs!

The even pressure on his back told him he was probably lying on the ground. Instinctively trying to pull himself into a seated position, another wave of horrific pain struck him. The sensations in his legs forced another humiliating scream from his throat, and he stuffed two white knuckles of his clenched hand into his mouth, biting down hard. Not dead yet.

Several deep breaths later, he assessed his situation calmly.

Breathing...nominal. Concussion...none apparent. Injuries...

He pushed himself up on his elbows and reached forward. His knees were intact; he reached further and felt something rough and cold, large, faintly damp. At least one massive stone boulder was pinning his legs to the ground just below the knees. Wincing badly, he felt the fabric of his camoflage pants and brought his hand close to his face; the metallic scent of blood was obvious.

Multiple lacerations just below the patella...possible damage to the cruciate ligaments...high probability of compound fractures to both tibias. Glaring invisibly at the boulder, he braced both arms against it and pushed hard, momentarily blocking out the pain with his firm resolve; it didn't move one bit. The size and weight of the rock made it obvious that escaping under his own power would be next to impossible. Laying back down on the ground, he held his breath for a moment or two, listening for any sound coming from the tunnel. There was nothing except the dripping water. Status of team...unknown. Probability of escape...unlikely. Probability of rescue...slim at best.

He sighed again, disappointed in himself. So this is how it all ends, buried alive on a fake mission. You really blew it this time, Yuy. Someone's having a good laugh at your expense about now. An icy cold drop of water fell from a new low point in the ceiling and hit Heero in the face like confirmation from the Almighty. Hn.

With only pain and darkness to keep him company, he began calculating approximately how many hours he had left until he lost consciousness from severe low blood pressure.

...they'll regret not saying goodbye properly, but that can't be helped. They followed procedure correctly by leaving when they did. A brief twinge of his own regret caught him off guard, and the stoic stare left him for just a few seconds. I'll be satisfied if they made it out of here safely.

Another drop of cold water hit him square in the chest.

...although, I might see one of them again, one last time. He closed his eyes and imagined beautiful death standing over him, smiling. Duo. If he really is the Earthly incarnation of death, he should be here to collect me. He couldn't help but smirk bitterly at that thought. He'll be here in a few days, perhaps only hours...he'll poke me with his scythe once or twice, make sure I'm good and dead, crack a few jokes, and then take me straight to hell where I belong.

Heero let his mind wander, killing time until the inevitable caught up with him. In between the pitter-pat of water dripping to either side of him, a faint, melodious sound wafted down from the escape tunnel. "....eeerooo..."

His eyes flew open. I didn't hear that. I did NOT hear that. He sat up quickly, forgetting his injuries and cringing furiously as his wounds made fresh contact with the boulder. He fell back down and his hit head on the ground, letting out a tiny moan.

The sound repeated itself, louder this time. "...eeerooo!"

Duo! He pushed aside notions of death coming to fetch him, mind reeling with frustration and rage. That baka came to look for me against procedure! Kuso!

"Heeerooo!" A different voice this time...Quatre's. You fools! You're supposed to be making your escape! What's the matter with you!? He slammed his fists into the ground to either side of him.

Finally, hurried footsteps and haggard breathing flowed out of the tunnel. Heero tilted his head back trying to get a look at his visitors. The brown glow of dust illuminated by their lanterns grew brighter as they approached, until Duo's light cut through the darkness, making the fallen pilot squint.

"I found it!" Duo called over his shoulder. He took the light off it's strap and shone it around the room. "Geez...Heero!?"

"Down here," he croaked. Screaming so much and breathing in all that dust hadn't done much for his voice.

Duo scanned the floor with the flashlight and let out a gasp, crouching down next to him just as Quatre emerged from the tunnel. "Oh man...can you move? Can you see me?"

"No, yes, in that order."

Quatre flicked his light in the direction of the gravelly voice and crouched on Heero's other side. "Are you badly hurt?"

Heero winced as another drop of water hit him in the face. This is a waste of time, you have to get out of here... "My legs."

Swiveling his lantern around, Quatre ran the beam of light down Heero's body, almost afraid to see whatever had happened to him. Trowa and Wufei arrived just in time to witness the unveiling of Heero's injuries. About two inches below the knee, his trousers were stained crimson; no more of his legs could be seen beyond that point. A massive rock was resting on his shins, and where the fabric had been torn away, they saw his flesh and muscles were badly shredded, and blood was oozing out in slow motion. There were a few whitish protrusions that could have been broken bones.

Quatre tasted bile in the back of his throat, dropping the flashlight and surrendering to a coughing fit that nearly made him retch. Trowa steadied him from behind and they both leaned against the wall, sickened and reeling.

Taking Quatre's place at Heero's left side, Wufei shone his lantern on the rocks surrounding his legs. "It's not just one stone, there are several. This large one is being partially supported by these smaller ones, here and here..." he said, pointing to the rocks. "There is just enough weight being transferred to his legs to trap them, but perhaps not so much that--"

"Yeah, yeah, he might be able to walk a month from now." Duo wriggled out of his backpack and dropped it at his feet. "We've gotta stop the bleeding first and worry about getting him out second." He unzipped the large pouch of the pack, turned it upsidedown, and shook out the contents, as Murphy's Law dictated that the first aid kit would be on the bottom. Wufei was shining his light in Heero's eyes, tugging at his eyelids and asking him all sorts of questions to determine his mental state.

This was getting silly. Heero fumbled in the dark with his right arm, latching onto Duo's braid and pulling him down sharply so he could have a quiet word without overexerting himself.

"OW! Leggo!" Duo yelped.

"Listen to me." Heero spoke in such a desperate whisper that the other pilots all crowded around him quickly to hear. "This was 100% intentional. The entire mission was a trap from the moment we received our orders. Whoever did this could be on their way here to make absolutely sure that we're dead. You can't be here when that happens."

"Heero, we're not--OW!" Another sharp pull silenced him.

"Your new mission is to get out of here alive. This is a direct order." He was struggling for every word, fighting the intense pain. "The four of you are to go back up the tunnel at once. If you spot the enemy, utilize the side tunnels to your advantage and eliminate all obstacles. Do you understand?"

The sparkle faded from Duo's eyes; he stared down at his commanding officer with unparalleled sadness. He shook his head slowly. "I can't leave you here."

"You can and you will. You don't have time to argue about this, just go."

"With all due respect, sir, your strategy blows!" He pulled his braid out of Heero's weakened grip and stood just out of reach. "This attack was the act of cowards. They couldn't even look us in the eye before pulling the trigger, they just left a huge nest of explosives for us to waltz into. Fraidy-cats like that aren't coming back to check on us, they're long gone by now!" Considering the subject firmly closed, he went back to searching for the first aid kit.

Trowa left Quatre's side to examine the rocks more closely. Seeing that Duo wasn't getting anywhere, Quatre reached over his shoulder for his own backpack, to find his first aid kit...but it wasn't there. He slapped his forehead. Of course it was gone, everyone except Duo and Heero had set their packs down to prepare the explosives. Picking up his flashlight, he left the others, still arguing loudly about the best course of action, and made a quick scan of the room.

The cavern was less than a quarter of the size it had been; giant boulders blocked passage to either side of where Heero lay, and Quatre's heart sank when he realized that the three backpacks full of supplies were completely covered. All of their explosives had been in those packs, as had most of their food and water. He tore his eyes away from the wall to look at the argument prolonging itself a few feet away.

Duo was pretending not to hear his fallen teammate barking out orders that were poisonous to his ears. He was cutting torn fabric away from his wounds, and daubing them with cotton and antiseptic. Trowa and Wufei were trying to budge just one of the huge stones, without success. Heero was absolutely livid.

Swallowing hard against the recurring bitterness in his throat, Quatre knelt behind Heero's head and spoke soothingly to him, trying to calm him down while they worked.

**********

The heavily modified standard-issue army jeep barrelled down the muddy path, weaving back and forth madly. The occupants of the jeep hollered and guffawed at the surrounding wildlife while shielding their eyes from the late-afternoon sun. Still an hour outside the village trading post where they had been anonymously dropped off, the last surviving members of the 83rd platoon celebrated their victory.

Eventually, a blinking light on the dashboard caught Burt's blurry eye; he drew it to Louch's attention, who pulled over, scratched himself, belched, and decided it must be the long-range radio. Someone was looking for the ill-fated pilots. This would never do.

Louch gave himself a few slaps across the face to sober himself up. An answer would have to be given, or someone might come looking for them and ruin everything. Disabling both the audio and video controls, he used the transmit button by itself to tap out a brief message in Morse code:

TARGET DESTROYED. RADIO BADLY DAMAGED DUE TO MISCALCULATION. NO CASUALTIES. RETURNING TO BASE.

Satisfied that any rescue parties would be sufficiently delayed to find the bodies of five pilots, either crushed to death or suffocated, the pair drove off, laughing once again.

**********

Out of breath and muscles aching, Trowa, Quatre and Wufei scrambled back up the tunnel to radio for help. At some point, Quatre's lantern battery died, leaving only one light for the three of them. They made the early part of their climb wordlessly, sparing no energy for idle banter that could be better used by their arms and legs. Farther towards the top of the passage, fatigue combined with the cold, stale air began taking a dreadful toll on Quatre's delicate constitution. He slowed them down terribly and begged to be left behind, but the other two had heard enough of that sort of talk for one day.

With Wufei in the lead, Trowa and Quatre lagged behind, struggling along without any source of light. Even the comforting sensation of Trowa's strong arms around him, steadying him on the slippery rocks, couldn't distract Quatre from worrying out loud.

"Even if we can move those rocks, how are we going to get him out? We can barely squeeze through one at a time, and we'd have to carry him the whole way! What are we going to do?"

"We will deal with the problem in stages," Wufei called back to them. "Our first priority is making contact with home base."

"They can probably think of something we haven't," Trowa added, "and they'll have better equipment...maybe some digging machines."

"But how long will it take? Most of our supplies are buried under fifty tons of rubble, and he needs medical attention now! We're hundreds of miles from everything, there's no hospital, no--"

"Stop it!" Trowa yanked on Quatre's arm and immediately regretted it. He could imagine his friend with a hurt look on his face in the dark; they both stopped climbing, and Wufei made his way further and further ahead of them.

Pulling himself together, Trowa sighed and caressed Quatre's arm apologetically. "It won't do him any good if we start panicking. It's our turn to be strong for him, this time, and if we can all keep a cool head, there might be a way to save all of us."

Quatre felt tears sting his eyes at Trowa's use of the words 'if' and 'might'.

"And...we also have to be strong," Trowa continued, "in case...well...so he doesn't spend his last hours cold and alone. No one should have to die that way."

"You...no..." Quatre shook his head and heard his voice squeak with sorrow. "You don't...agree with Heero, do you? He's already given up on himself, and now you've given up on him too?"

"Of course I haven't given up!" Trowa snapped back. "But we have to accept the possibility that he might not make it."

Somehow, Trowa could tell his angel was crying openly, even though he made no sound. Maybe it was easier to tell because he couldn't see it. Maybe it was just easier to cry when you couldn't be seen.

"It could have been any of us, you know," Quatre said in a calm, even tone.

"I know."

"...I'd never leave you behind, Trowa. I couldn't..."

Trowa drew his arms clumsily around the smaller boy, scraping his knuckles on the narrow walls. "Me too." Wufei was so far ahead now that not even the barest reflection of light from his lantern reached them. Trowa let go and nudged his friend forward. "Come on, let's catch up."

It was another fifteen minutes before they caught up with their teammate. Wufei had dashed ahead, probably to give them some valuable time and space to themselves. It was a tough time for all of them, and Wufei understood what they needed from each other; for that moment, at least, he wasn't so aloof and insensitive as he made himself out to be.

When they approached him and saw the light grow brighter and brighter, they realized that Wufei was standing still. Something must be wrong; they both sensed it.

Quatre crept up behind him. "Wufei? What is it? What have you found?"

As he turned around, both boys shuddered at his expression; impossibly, the Chinese pilot, for whom no obstacle was too great, wore a look of pure helplessness. He moved out of the way and let their gaze slowly shift from his pitifully sad eyes to the tunnel ahead.

There was no tunnel. Tons of rock had collapsed into the cave entrance, making it impassable.

Quatre blinked and rubbed his eyes, praying that it was an illusion or that his eyes simply hadn't adjusted to the light level yet. Trowa stepped forward and placed a hand on the cold rock. It was no illusion. "Could we have taken a wrong turn?" he asked.

Wufei shook his head and pointed to a pair of diagonal scratchmarks on the wall. "I left these markings with a stone as we descended. This is definitely the way we came."

In spite of the lecture he gave Quatre on keeping calm, Trowa felt himself slipping closer to a state of panic. "We're trapped."


~~~~~~~~~~

Uh-ohhh...will Heero live? Welllll, can I say I haven't decided yet? Bwahahaha...*gets to work on Chapter 3* It might be a day or two, so why not keep yourself busy reading my other stories? Nani? You WILL? Yaaaaaay! You're a peach, you know that? =^_~=