Chapter 4

The heavy wooden door was flung open. The Chinese man paused in his haste. The air was thick with the smell of blood. His mind raced. He had heard the gun shot, but who had fired it? Scanning the room, his thought was immediately answered.
"Duo." He rushed to the American's side.
Kneeling down, he turned him onto his back. The braided man was still gripping at his chest, blood flowing freely through his tensed fingers.
Wufei stared at the wound, his expression grim.
Duo's eyes were closed. Wufei leant his head down to listen for any signs of breathing. The American sucked in a ragged, painfully slow breath.
Removing the American's hand from the wound, the Chinese man tried to inspect the damage. He had lost a lot of blood, and Wufei was unsure if the bullet had pierced Duo's heart.
Grasping the shirt he unbuttoned the black material. Wufei frowned. The American's chest was covered in the dark red blood. The Chinese man tore a large strip of the shirt away from the rest of the material and bandaged the wound as best as he could. As he tied the two ends together, Duo's body twitched. Wufei glanced up at his face. His usual joyful features were now contorted in pain, his eyelids parted slightly.
"Wufei?" The Chinese man could hardly hear the whisper that emerged from Duo's lips.
"Yes. Stay still and don't speak."
Duo grabbed at Wufei's arm, staining the sleeve of his white shirt with his blood.
"Romért..."
"I said don't speak, Maxwell." His voice was harsh, but he was truly worried that Duo would die if he didn't get him treated immediately.
"No... listen. Romért is the leak." Duo gritted his teeth as another wave of pain rushed through his chest.
"Romért? The attendant?" Wufei was a little surprised at this announcement, but quickly brushed it off, more concerned with Duo's well being. " Now do as you're told."
Duo managed a faint smile. Wufei stood and looked over at the door.
"I need to go get you some help. Don't try to move, and don't die on me."
He walked swiftly out of the room, quickening his pace when he reached the corridor. He finally stopped at the end of the hallway, grabbing the handset of a phone that was fixed to the wall. He pressed the zero button and held the receiver to his ear.
A deep voice spoke on the other end. "Hello, Security Office."
"Get the doctor up to the conference room immediately."
"Err, right."
"And, has Romért left the estate yet?"
"Romért? He's just about to go through the gates."
"Stop him and arrest him."
"Right."
Wufei replaced the handset and jogged back to the conference room. He entered the room and scowled. "What did I tell you, Maxwell?"
Duo smiled weakly back at the angry looking Wufei. He had managed to pull himself up to the table and was now slouched in one of the stiff-backed wooden chairs. "I was uncomfortable."
"Of course you were uncomfortable. You've been shot, baka." He strode over to him. "You could have done yourself more damage."
The American's head lolled to one side, but his eyes were still focused on Wufei. "I didn't know you cared so much."
The Chinese man was about to retort, but he snapped his mouth shut again when the loud sound of many footsteps told him that the doctor was running down the corridor.
A dishevelled middle aged man burst into the conference room, followed by a worried looking Quatre.
The doctor quickly moved to Duo's side, removing the bandage and inspecting the wound.
"What happened?" Quatre stared at Duo, his eyes wide, taking in his pale deathly pallor and the blood that was smeared on his chest.
"Romért shot him when Duo confronted him about stealing the information."
Quatre's head jerked up to look at Wufei. "Romért?" His voice betrayed the shock he felt.
Wufei simply nodded in response.

* * *

Romért sat on the bare floor inside the security office, his hands tied behind his back. Two security guards stood in front of him.
He looked up at them.
"I still don't understand why I'm being treated this way. There must be some sort of mistake."
The taller security guard grunted without looking at the older man. The other guard looked down at Romért, feeling pity for him.
"No, I'm afraid not, mate. We were definitely told that it was you we should arrest. I don't know the reason behind the order though."
Romért's eyes narrowed, and a sneer formed on his face.
"You're pathetic, you know that. Following orders so blindly shows that you have no will of your own."
The two security officers looked down, their eyebrows raised in surprise.
"What?"
Romért smiled, breaking into laughter. He suddenly stopped when the only door in the room, was opened from the other side. He went pale as he saw the person entering the security office.
Quatre's face was bitter, his eyes seemed to pierce Romért's heart.
"M-master Quatre."
Quatre frowned.
"Why do you still call me that?"
Romért whimpered. This was the only thing he had feared. A confrontation with his master. Although he had decided to discontinue his service with Quatre, he did care for him.
"You betrayed my trust, Romért. And my friendship. That is something I can never forgive you for."
The older man looked away from the Arab.
"I'm sorry." The words were barely a murmur from the former attendant's lips, but Quatre heard them.
The blonde man shook his head, his features softened.
"You will have to be punished, Romért. I cannot allow any further information to be leaked out."
With those words, he turned his back on his once faithful servant and left the room, stopping only once to signal the guards to hand Romért over to the proper authorities.

* * *

Duo sat up in the hospital bed, his eyes glued to the television. Sunlight filtered in through the partially open window, accompanied by a slight breeze.
The room was painted purely white, the bedclothes and nightwear were the same. This had frustrated the American at first. The nurses had refused to let him wear his own clothes, saying that they were too dark to wear in this weather.
Duo reached for the television control and switched it to another channel.
"Oh, wow. Quatre's on TV." His eyes had opened wide, giving him the look of a child. He smiled, but it soon faded when he heard the words his friend was speaking.
'This must be tough for him.' The American thought.
Quatre's face was contorted in a mixture of emotion. Worry, sadness, restrained anger, they were all evident on the Arab's features.
'That crowd 'aint helping, either.'
Duo swung his legs out of the bed and stood. He winced slightly at the pain in his chest, but continued to walk to the door. He grabbed the white flannel dressing gown and left the room.
Once he was out in the corridor, he turned left, keeping out of sight of any nurses or doctors. He jogged down the plain passageway until he reached a set of double doors. He peered through the window and on seeing two nurses walking his way, dived round a corner.
"Excuse me." Duo felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun round and saw a doctor with his arms crossed, giving him a disapproving look.
"Um, hi."
"You should be in your room, shouldn't you?"
"Oh, I was just taking a walk."
"Uh-huh, and that's why you're hiding round this corner from those two nurses."
Duo smiled. "Heh, yeah. I was going to jump 'em, you see. They're pretty good looking."
The doctor frowned. "You're not a very good liar. Now, will you please go back to your room."
"Alright, I'll go back. You people love spoiling my fun, don't you?"
The doctor's frown didn't leave his face. "Lead the way."
Duo looked behind him, before returning his attention to the doctor.
"Oh, I think I can manage to get back by myself."
"Don't give me that. I wasn't born yesterday."
Duo rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry."
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
With the agility of a cat, the American leapt forward and tackled the doctor to the ground. A quick punch to the face, finished the job off.
"For that."
Duo slipped out of his dressing gown and replaced it with the doctor's jacket. Buttoning it up, he hid the unconscious doctor in the nearest room and set off through the double doors.
The American glanced quickly from side to side before walking quickly through the maze of corridors that led to the main entrance.
Once out in the fresh air, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Phew, I thought I was never going to get out of there."
His gaze examined the people that were entering and exiting the hospital, the road, and the different means of transport. He smiled.
"Now, to get back to the others. He laughed a little. He knew they would be angry at him for leaving the hospital in his condition.
Shrugging, he walked away from the white stone building.

* * *

Quatre walked down the steps that led off the speaking stand. He sighed.
"Don't worry."
The Arab looked up into green eyes and smiled.
"Thank you for being here, Trowa."
"How could I not?"
Quatre grasped his lover's hand for a moment before leaving the press building.
Once outside, the two men settled themselves in the waiting limousine.
"That is an experience I do not want to repeat."
Trowa looked at Quatre, his eyes showing his affection towards the Arab.
"Well, hopefully, that'll settle things down, and we can concentrate on solving the Gundam problem."
Trowa nodded in agreement.
Quatre raised an eyebrow as the comms alert sounded. He pressed the button on the console.
"Who would know this number?" He muttered.
His eyes widened as the familiar face of his American friend appeared in front of him.
"Duo?"
"Hi there, Q-man." His usual smile was back, which relieved Quatre.
"Why are you calling me? You should be in bed, recovering."
"Ah, well, you see... I'm not at the hospital anymore."
"What?"
"Before you start reprimanding me, let me explain."
Quatre sighed.
"You'd better have a really good explanation."
Duo grinned.
"Well, you know me. I can never sit still for long, and well, I was feeling much better, and seeing you on TV just gave me a surge of energy..."
Quatre frowned.
"Duo... I said a good explanation."
The American chuckled a bit.
"I'm sorry, Q-man."
Quatre sighed.
"It doesn't matter now. Where are you?"
"At your place. Don't worry, Wu-man's already given me a lecture about being irresponsible or something."
"Ok, we'll be back in about an hour. Try not to overexert yourself."
"Who? Me? Like I would."

* * *

Neema sat on a bench in the equipment room of her Dojo. She flicked through a pad of paper, glancing up every so often to check that the figures on the pad coincided with the number of items in the room.
She looked towards the door, frowning slightly.
Were her ears playing tricks on her or had she actually heard something?
She stood and moved towards the door. The last time she had thought that, there had been something solid that caused the noise and not her imagination.
She pushed the door open gently. It creaked and she winced at the noise.
Peering out into the darkness of the training area, an expression of uncertainty passed across her face. She couldn't see what could have been the source of the noise. Stepping into the training room, Neema glanced around.
"Why don't you show yourselves?"
She had noticed movement at the far end of the room. There appeared to be three or four men hiding in the shadows.
A grunt answered her statement.
As the men walked out of the deeper shadows, the dim moonlight revealed that Neema's evaluation had been right.
"Why are you here?"
A low gravelly laughter echoed around the dark training room.
"We're here to kill you."
Neema's eyebrows rose.
"Oh? And how do you think you're going to manage that?"
"Like this."
She heard a click from the darkness. Knowing that it was the sound of a firearm being cocked, Neema rolled to the side and leapt forward. Because of the cover of darkness, the bullet missed its target. Neema grabbed the arm of the nearest male and with a sharp jerk, snapped it at the elbow. He yelped in pain and staggered forward, dropping the gun in the process. Now that she had the advantage over him, she pivoted on her left leg and brought the right one up to connect with the man's neck. A sickly sound of breaking bone and tearing tendons resounded around the Dojo.
The man fell to the floor, dead.
Neema had just regained her footing, when she felt a fist connect with her back. The impact sent her sprawling forward. She tried to recover as best as she could, by rolling and landing in a crouch, ending up several feet away from her attacker.
She heard the breathing of the other two males to her right, but her attention was on the one in front of her, the one who had hit her.
Standing once more, she rested her hand on her hip.
"Is that the best you can do?"
The man growled deep in his throat and ran towards her. She turned into the attack, succeeding in knocking the male off balance. He lashed out at her and Neema was forced to block instead of attack. As she blocked, she dropped to the floor and swept her leg in an arc along the floor, knocking the man's legs out from under him.
He fell heavily, partially on top of Neema. She kicked the man off of her and leapt to her feet. Not considering him a threat at the moment, she turned to the other two men.
"Quite impressive, but I'm afraid you're going to have to die now."
Neema smiled slightly and motioned for the men to try.
One of them drew a 10" knife from his belt. He lunged at Neema. She jumped backwards to avoid the blade.
She was near to the wall now, and to a source of weapons. Along the wall was a line of ornamental katanas some bought, some donated, and some inherited.
She grasped the hilt of the nearest one and unsheathed it. She spun round to face the knifeman. A clash of metal echoed around the room, followed by the knife clattering on the floor. The man backed off, suddenly doubtful whether they would be able to kill this woman without a suitable weapon. Obviously deciding against it, he turned and ran out of the Dojo, followed by his associate. The man that Neema had floored, attempted to rise and follow his comrades.
He found the tip of the katana at his throat.
"You're not going anywhere."
The man scowled.
"Just kill me."
Neema knelt down in front of him, so her eyes were level with his.
"Not until you tell me who sent you."
"I'll never tell you."
"We'll see about that."

* * *