THE SEARCH - Chapter 11 of the Kindred Spirits saga
Written by Sandrock
sandrock@sandrockproductions.com
sandrock@gundamwing.mailbox.as
LEGAL DISCLAIMER
Gundam Wing belongs to someone else. That's why KINDRED SPIRITS is a fanfic and not an OVA series.
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Content Guideline: R, for graphic violence, mild profanity, mild sexual references.
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April 25, AC 195. Tokyo, Japan. Narita Commercial Airport
Heero Yuy stood at the large full-length windows of the arrival hall of Tokyo Narita, watching as the private jet that brought him here soared off into the sky, heading back to Singapore, back to the headquarters of the Maganac Corporation. Back to Quatre.
Turning slowly, he made his way over to the immigration sector, his senses taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling, crowded airport. Once, centuries ago, Tokyo Narita had been Japan's main international airport, but it had long since been converted to a corporate port, run by one of the many large private-sector conglomerates borne out of the land of the rising sun - a private airport for the many corporate and private jets that wanted to beat the rush at the new international airports built off the eastern coast of Japan on various artificial islands.
As he neared immigration, the Japanese youth reached into the haversack that held the few possessions he had taken along with him on the trip, and slowly took out the forged Euro-American Alliance passport that Quatre had procured for him. Studying it for a moment, he found himself saying a silent prayer.
When the blond youth had first handed it to him, Heero had momentarily questioned the decision of using an EA passport to enter Asian Federation territory, but his concerns had been quickly dismissed - to have used an Asian Federation passport would've been far more foolhardy. Certainly, the AF authorities in Japan would be far better equipped to spot a fake AF passport, as compared to documents purportedly belonging to the EA Alliance - after all, the two governments weren't exactly best of friends...even though there was peace.
Putting his thoughts aside, he made his way to the nearest available booth, and forced himself to smile naturally at the immigration officer, handing over the dark blue passport. The officer smiled back lightly, before taking the book and flipping it open to process Heero's entry.
The Japanese youth stood quietly, waiting. Watching.
*What if... what if it all falls through?*
The immigration officer looked at him now, glancing back down at the picture on the document for a moment before feeding the passport into a scanner. The machine whirred, and emitted a few beeps. The officer spoke.
"It'll take a little while to process, sir. Please hold on."
Heero nodded, trying not to appear too unnerved. The machine continued beeping and whirring, emitted one final loud beep, and the officer smiled.
"You're cleared for entry, Mr. Saito. Welcome to Japan. Will you be staying long?"
Heero allowed himself a quick breath, before shaking his head, "Probably not. I wanted to come back and see the place for myself - how things have changed. It's hard being Japanese outside of Japan these days."
The immigration officer laughed, "Well, over there on the Alliance side at least. We're doing pretty well here in the Federation. You should come back, you know. Sure, the grass looked greener over there... but is it, really?"
Heero paused. Picking up his passport, he shoved it back inside his haversack, before smiling back at the officer, "Perhaps not... but I'm here now. Who knows?" He trailed off.
The officer smiled, "Have a good trip, Mr. Saito."
Heero Yuy nodded, making his way through immigration and out to the public area.
The crowd in the arrival hall was no match for the scene that greeted the Japanese youth here - lines of waiting people scanned the exit from immigration, searching for colleagues, friends and loved ones. In as much abundance were people in driver uniforms - holding up placards with names of people they were required to fetch. In the face of organised chaos, Heero stared, looking for a directory or signboard that would point him in the direction of a taxi pick-up point.
He had barely spotted a nearby information counter when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned around. And looked up. Towering over him were two, rather large, fair-skinned men. One wore a dark black suit and had piercing blue eyes. The other wore a driver's uniform and had a peaked cap on that covered a mass of blond hair.
The man in the suit spoke, "Mr. Yuy? We're from the Maganac Corporation. Mr. Winner sent a message ahead asking for us to pick you up and arrange for your accomodation during your stay here."
Heero Yuy stared at the two men. Had Quatre mentioned anything about this? Not that he could recall, but it did seem like the sort of thing Quatre would've done. He had left in kind of a hurry and Quatre had been awfully concerned. Heero sighed - sometimes Quatre tried too hard to be a mother-hen.
He nodded towards the two men, "Lead on, then."
The suited man nodded, "Very well. This way, please, Mr. Yuy. The car is waiting."
*****
The crowded streets of Tokyo - every nook, corner and alleyway bustling with people and activity - sped past the limousine with fierce intensity, the black tint of the windows casting an almost ominous shadow on the entire cityscape.
At least, it was so from Heero's viewpoint, as he scanned the horizon for any signs of familiarity. He shook his head - it was no use. It was... as though he was here for the first time. This city... was his home. He had been born here. Lived here most his life.
At least he had thought so.
He was a stranger in his own home.
Leaning back, he looked around the passenger compartment of the limousine, and couldn't help but smile - Quatre certainly knew how to take care of his people. The dark suited man sat in front with the driver in the navigational compartment, leaving him alone with all the facilities one could hope for - a computer terminal, a television, a mini-bar... the list went on.
He smiled, closing his eyes and trying to relax. All was going better than he'd expected.
*****
The Japanese youth was woken up abruptly twenty minutes later, when the vehicle made a sudden sharp turn. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he squinted out the front windscreen, trying to make out where they were.
The crowded streets of Tokyo had given way to a broad plaza - the sounds of the city were still audible, so they were probably just on the outskirts, but the view in front of him was in complete juxtaposition from that of the packed city. In the near distance, a huge mansion lay sprawled across a grassland that was neatly intersected by the wide road they were traveling down, and Heero couldn't help but be impressed, finding himself secretly wondering just exactly how rich Quatre was.
As they neared the huge mansion, he leaned closer, trying to get a better view of the place. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.
At the grand entrance to the mansion, a flag flew proudly in the wind. A familiar, dark-blue flag.
A flag imprinted with the official seal of the Embassy of the Euro-American Alliance.
Heero Yuy fell back into his seat. Quatre hadn't sent those men.
The Alliance had him.
He forced himself to regulate his breathing - the last thing he needed now was to hyperventilate. His mind worked furiously.
*I have to escape... have to get out of here.*
*I can't let them have me...*
As though right on schedule, the doors of the limousine resounded with a loud simultaneous 'click' as locking mechanisms fell into place, and large metal shutters slid firmly over the tinted glass windows, throwing the entire cabin into utter darkness.
The darkness galvanized Heero into action. Lunging towards the door, he tried the handle. It was locked. Drawing his arm back, his right hand clenched into a fist mere moments before he slammed it right into the door, sending the reinforced metal construct flying off its hinges.
Deftly, he rolled out of the vehicle, landing on the roadside with a dull thud and picked himself up quickly, a little surprised he'd managed to pull that off so smoothly.
The reaction from the limousine was no slower - the screeching sound of brakes applied at high speed filled the air as the vehicle skidded around to a halt, facing Heero.
Mere metres away.
Heero swallowed. Not all as well as he'd hoped.
The passenger side door of the driver's cabin opened, and piercing blue eyes stared at the Japanese youth as the man prepared to come out. Heero glanced around - to his left and right, wide-open grassland that offered no shelter from a speeding car. To the front, the embassy of the ones bent on capturing him. There was only one place to go - back towards the city.
Heero Yuy launched himself with surprising speed, taking the blue-eyed man by surprise. It was a surprise that didn't last long - mere moments later, Heero's ears told him that someone was on the hunt.
The Japanese youth knew that he was fast, at least now - the abilities that had been awakened inside him had given him strength, speed and stamina far beyond human capabilities, but he bore no illusions of being able to outrun a car at full speed.
All of a sudden, the city seemed too far away. Yet, the boy persevered.
*I won't let them have me! Not again!*
~~Heero had no time to react before Duo grabbed his shoulder and shoved him away. The Japanese youth hit the ground with a dull thud, wincing from the impact. He looked up, allowing a slight tinge of irritation to creep into his voice, a mere shadow of what he was feeling within, "What was that all...? He cut short abruptly as he saw what Duo was holding. The braided youth's hand was right at the spot where Heero's heart would've been if he had been standing. A hand that was clutching at the long shaft of a crossbow bolt. ~~
~~Heero's mind froze, putting two and two together. A crossbow. Someone had fired a crossbow bolt at him. The weapon of choice of professional assassins. Silent, yet as accurate and deadly as any firearm, the crossbow had been revived from it's medieval inception and enhanced with modern technology into a weapon feared by rich businessmen and politicians alike. But, certainly not one a Japanese university student struggling to earn a living should have to worry about.~~
*Not again. Never. Not without a fight...*
The outskirts of Tokyo city were just in front of him now, and the signs of inhabitation were becoming obvious. Several pedestrians made their way hurriedly along the sidewalk of the large road, staring at the open grassland that was so rare a sight in the crowded streets of the metropolis. In front, a few vehicles sped past along an intersecting road.
But the roar of the engine in his ears meant that his pursuers were just behind him.
*I have to reach... I can't...*
It was then that the bullet sped past his head, narrowly missing him. The echoing crack filled the relative silence.
The pedestrians screamed, some diving for cover while others fled hap hazardously - the typical pandemonium one expects when a weapon gets fired.
Heero Yuy grounded to a halt, not so much in fear as in concern for innocents that might get hit by a stray bullet should he continue running.
*I can't let them...*
The limousine pulled up next to him, stopping slowly and almost casually. The door opened and piercing blue eyes met his again.
*No... I won't let them do this... not to me.*
The faint echo of an idea hit him, and instinctively, he reacted. Slamming the door back, he shoved the blue-eyed man back into the vehicle. Bending down, he gripped the base of the limousine with both hands, locking his arms in a death grip with the metal of the car.
He paused, a tinge of uncertainty creeping into his psyche. Could he do it? The professors hadn't been able to determine his strength, but...
Heero shrugged. *There's nothing to lose.*
*Please let this work.*
His muscles flexed, and the metallic frame of the limousine made a startled squeak as the vehicle was lifted clean off the ground and onto its side in one swift motion.
Heero stared, looking at the vehicle now balanced precariously on its side, then down at his hands. It had seemed so... easy.
*What... what have they done to me?*
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Whatever had been done to him... it had served him well for once. *But wasn't it what got you into all this trouble to begin with, you idiot?*
Clearing his mind, he set about to finish what he'd started - a light push sent the vehicle careening down onto its hood, the impact warping the weaker hood frame and jamming the doors, effectively trapping his two would-be captors.
Walking in front of the vehicle, a small smile crossed his face. Placing one hand on the front bonnet of the limo, he lifted the front of the vehicle up to eye-level, enough for him to look the occupants straight in the eye.
The Japanese youth held it there just long enough to let them see him smile mischievously, before letting go and sending them crashing back down again.
He walked off.
*****
They were beginning to annoy him. Just a little, at least.
Dropping the now unconscious thug that had tried to charge at him and stab him with a previously concealed dagger, Duo Maxwell twisted around with inhuman speed, his right fist connecting with the fool who thought he could sneak up behind him, sending both the man and his crowbar flying into the far wall. The sound of concrete cracking never sounded better.
The braided youth grumbled silently to himself as he surveyed his handiwork - he hated coming to these seedy thug bars - a combination of aggressive personalities, lots of alcohol and lax morals usually meant for a barroom brawl or two - especially when one had to ask potentially sensitive questions.
Duo cracked his knuckles, allowing himself a small smile - he didn't really care today though. After everything that had happened, it felt good to let off some steam - but he had to be careful. When the first guy had attacked him without warning, something emotional in the braided youth had just snapped - like the proverbial camel and the straw - and it had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to turn the man into bloody pulp.
He sighed, sparing a glance at the twelve or so thugs lying on the floor, groaning. *Maybe I got a little out of hand...*
The braided youth now turned his gaze over to the rest of the patrons of this seedy place - a silent challenge to any and everyone else who thought they could take him on. None dared to make eye contact, and the youth smirked. These people always had to learn the hard way.
Walking over to where his final assailant had landed, he grabbed hold of the man's shirt roughly, and dragged him unceremoniously over to the counter, before picking him up and seating him on the countertop a little harder than necessary. Shifting his grip to the man's neck, he slammed the man hard on his back against the countertop, applying a little more pressure to his grip.
The youth's voice took on a menacing quality; every sign of the usually cheerful Duo vanished.
"You know something I don't, big guy. Talk."
The thug stared at him through bruised eyes; he was still grinning madly. He spat at the boy's face, and waited, still showing teeth at Duo.
A low chuckle escaped from the braided youth's throat, a chuckle that quickly died out. Without warning, Duo dragged the man off the counter, lifting him by the neck just high enough off the ground to make his feet dangle a little. Like a rag doll, he carried the thug over to where he had previously landed.
The braided youth picked up the fallen crowbar, once again roughly slamming the man into the ground. Pinning the thug down with his body, Duo Maxwell took the crowbar in his hands and swiftly twisted the metallic implement around the man's neck before he could even yell in surprise.
Throat now constricted, a startled gasp emerged from the man.
A rage unlike any before flared across the braided youth's face, and he spoke once again, his voice clipped and strangely subdued.
"Talk now."
The man stared back, his voice wheezing, "Up yours, bitch."
Duo Maxwell's hands lashed forward, grabbing hold of the crowbar. The metal twisted like paper in his hands as he tightened the improvised noose around the man's neck even further. The man choked.
Something close to a snarl emerged from the youth's throat, "Tell me what I need to know now, or I swear to god I'll twist your fucking head off!"
Without giving the man time to react, the youth's hands swept into motion, tightening, constricting. The crowbar squealed from the pressure. The man began turning blue.
Several of the thugs tried to aid the man; the braided youth flung them away like bits of paper. Mindlessly, he persevered, twisting, getting closer, closer... closer to the point where bone would shatter.
A resounding crack filled the room, breaking his fixation.
Duo Maxwell jerked back, his hands trembling. His mind raced.
*What the hell am I doing? I was going to... going to... k...*
Beneath him, the man wheezed, trying to cough but unable to because of the constricted space.
"I have the information you're looking for. I'll spill it... just let him go. He ain't done you no harm, kid. It's not worth killing over."
The braided youth turned in the direction the voice came from - and found himself looking at the bartender, the double-barreled shotgun responsible for the blast of sound that brought him back to reality still smoking in his hand.
For a moment, Duo Maxwell stared at the man - balding, with a thin mustache and beard and a pair of sunglasses - he looked nothing like the sort of person one would find around here. But he was, and said he knew.
The braided youth picked himself off the wheezing thug, ignoring the men who rushed to their fallen comrade to try and free him. All around, huge, fierce-looking thugs backed away as he walked over to the man behind the counter.
Reaching, he eyed the balding guy. And nodded.
"Talk."
*****
Ten minutes later, Duo Maxwell stepped out into the cold night breeze of the city of Los Angeles. Inside the bar, someone cranked up a jukebox and the sounds of revelry once again took over - apparently at least some within were eager to get drunk again, have a good time and forget about the inhuman youth that had crashed in that night.
He sighed - after a lot of uncharacteristic pleading and coaxing on the part of the thugs, the braided youth had agreed to remove the crowbar from his unfortunate victim's neck - their own failed attempts probably sending their fear of him up a few notches.
He grimaced - he hated being feared... but sometimes you needed things to be so to get the job done. Shrugging, he walked off into the night.
*What the hell happened back there?*
*What was I doing to that man? What... what came over me?*
He looked at his hands, remembering the sensations.
*I wonder... if that's how Solo felt when he killed those guards.*
Shaking his head, he filed a mental note into the mission log for Zechs to have him sent for a thorough inspection once Sister was repaired. Something wasn't right, and the last thing he wanted to happen was to have himself turn into the next Solo.
*Solo...*
Thoughts of his twin stopped him in his tracks.
*Solo...*
*Damn it.*
The braided youth drove a fist into the nearest wall with a resounding thud, sending cracks running up and down the entire frame.
*Damn it all.*
"Blake?"
Duo's head whipped around at the familiar voice, his hand jerked away from the wall and his body moving swiftly to cover the surface he'd just scarred. He spoke, his voice tentative.
"Hil... Hilde."
The young woman before him stared at him, eyes wide, "Blake..."
The braided youth shifted uncomfortably. *How much did she see?*
She was moving closer now.
"Blake... is it really you?"
He breathed a sigh of relief. Smiling at her, he nodded.
There were tears in her eyes as she dove straight into his arms, hugging him and holding him tight. Her voice wavered as she tried to speak.
"Blake... I... I was so worried about you! What happened to you? I've... I've been trying to call you for a whole week, but... you just... I was... worried... especially after that... that night..."
He silenced her with a kiss. Moments seemed like eternity.
When he finally broke away, she was staring at him; her eyes still brimming with unshed tears. His voice was soft.
"Everything's okay, Hilde. I'm okay... I'm here."
She frowned, "But... those men... they burst into my place and wanted you. What have you gotten yourself into, Blake?"
He smiled his best smile, still holding her tightly, "A small misunderstanding, Hilde. They were looking... they were looking for the wrong person."
*the wrong person...*
Hilde's frown refused to be placated, "Are you sure? You're... you're in no danger, are you? Then why haven't you been returning my calls?"
The braided youth snorted, the usual charm and bravado filling his voice, "Ha! Me? In danger? You know me better than that, Hilde."
Gazing at her, his voice took on a serious note, "I'm not in danger, Hilde. I'm perfectly fine. You don't have to worry about me."
For a moment, she studied his face, then looking him up and down. The frown was gone, but her expression still spoke of unease, "You are... aren't you?"
Something seemed to catch her attention, and the frown returned, "But... but you were injured... and it's only been a few days..."
Duo shook his head nonchalantly. The lie came with practiced ease.
"A few cuts and scrapes - the hospital patched me up pretty good. It looked worse than it really was."
She replied, "How could you let them do this to you? Did you report them to the authorities - those... those men? You can't have let them get away with it. How can everything be fine? Weren't you... weren't you at least..."
Her eyes flicked behind him for a moment.
"... at least angry about it?"
A momentary tinge of alarm crept down Duo Maxwell's spine, but he forced himself to remain calm. He replied smoothly.
"Once they discovered their mistake, they were quick to apologise. I was... compensated."
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, "Are you sure you're alright, Blake? You're not hiding anything from me?"
He swallowed.
"No, Hilde. I'm not. Come on, I'll walk you home."
*****
The hot water in the artificial onsen was strangely calming, Heero Yuy found himself thinking as he stretched his lithe body, the tender ministrations of the water currents flowing over his young frame. He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down and to enjoy the bath.
Not that he really needed one - unsurprisingly, he'd arrived at the city centre without even breaking a sweat and feeling uncannily energetic. Realising that he'd probably need to lie low for a while, he'd located the nearest ryokan, the traditional Japanese-style inn and requested for a room. The artificial hot spring within the complex, however, had been an unexpected bonus, and the Japanese youth had taken to the onsen like a fish to water. Though physically unscathed, he was a scattered bunch of nerves, ready to spring at the slightest disturbance.
*Stop thinking, Heero. Relax.*
He sighed, dipping himself deeper into the pool. The bath was strangely deserted - odd for this time of the day, though his ears did pick up some sounds from the adjacent women's bath.
His thoughts wandered.
*Relena...*
That unexpected kiss had surprised them both. But what a nice surprise it had been. She had seemed so... nice, then - so unlike the cold professional who stared daggers at him throughout the day.
And then there was Misako. The Japanese youth blushed. Reaching out of the pool, he grabbed the television remote and aimed it at the screen hanging from the ceiling. He turned the machine on.
And gaped.
*Shit.*
The television was preprogrammed to a news network, and Heero Yuy saw... himself. Labeled as amateur video taken by a passerby, the Japanese youth watched as all of Japan saw him picking up a stretch limousine like a child would pick up a toy. His pulse increased.
*Dammit... dammit, dammit, dammit.*
The reporter was speaking now, quoting the EA Alliance's embassy as having no comment, before cutting over to the scene to air the views of several astonished people who had witnessed the event.
Heero Yuy switched the screen off, his mind racing.
*Not good... not good... too careless. Must think...*
He didn't have the time - the door to the onsen creaked open, admitting someone, and the Japanese youth nearly jumped. He sank back into the water, trying to maintain an air of normalcy. He glanced at the newcomer, ready to nod a greeting.
His eyes bulged.
The newcomer was a woman. Without a scrap of clothing on.
Heero felt his cheeks flush. He tried to speak, his voice coming out in a mild whisper, "Um... ah... excuse me..."
The woman smiled at him, completely unperturbed. She seemed young, at most a few years older than he, with long brown hair trailing down her shoulders and dark, wide eyes. Her slim frame moved with subtle grace as she took a step forward, "Yes?"
Her voice was husky.
The Japanese youth was rooted to the spot, "Um... the... the... women's bath... is... is... is... it's over there." His hand trembled as he pointed in the general direction of the other artificial hot spring.
The woman smiled, taking another step closer. She bent down to look at him, giving the youth a birds' eye view. She giggled softly, "I know."
Heero nearly yelped. Lashing out, he grabbed at his towel, dragging it into the water and wrapped it around his waist.
She was getting closer now, and she glanced down at him, at the towel. The smile didn't waver, "You're a shy one, aren't you? What, don't you like what you see?"
He blushed, trying to look away but not succeeding completely. He found his voice, "Who... um... who are you?"
She smiled again, "The proprietor of this inn is extremely concerned about the well-being of her clients, Saito-san. When you checked in, she noticed that you seemed somewhat under the weather... and she made the necessary arrangements."
The sultry woman was in the water with him now, barely inches away. Heero tried to back away, uncertain, but already up against the side of the pool as he was, there was nowhere else to go. She was still speaking.
"And thus, the onsen is empty, and no one will disturb us."
She smiled again.
"I am Noriko, Saito-san. And I am yours for the night."
Heero swallowed heavily, "But... I... um..."
All conscious thought fled the boy's mind as Noriko moved forward, seating herself squarely on his lap. Her smile widened, and a small laugh escaped her, "Well, -someone's- definitely happy that I'm here..."
Impossible as it would seem, the Japanese youth blushed even deeper, but he remained in thrall, unable to move or think.
*No... this is wrong... I shouldn't... shouldn't be...*
Her arms came up, coming to rest lightly on his shoulders. Slowly, she began kneading, massaging, working out the kinks and the stress, and the boy actually found himself relaxing a little. It felt... good.
She was working down his shoulders now, moving across his arms, down to his chest. Whispering softly, her voice took on an even huskier note, "My, my... you're a strong one for your age..."
She smiled again, taking her hands off him.
"But... if you enjoyed that... I'm sure you'll like this... even more."
Heero opened his eyes just in time to see her hand plunge into the water, her target and intent obvious. He flushed yet again.
Noriko grabbed hold of him.
And his body locked up, frozen in position as though paralysed.
*What... what the...*
The smile was still on Noriko's face.
But it no longer looked seductive.
Ripping the towel from his waist, the woman stood up, wrapping it around her body. She smirked at him.
"You men are all alike... bare a little flesh and instantaneously, your mind changes position - by about four feet down."
Peeling at her hand, she tore off the concealed applicator patch and tossed it aside. She turned to look at the paralysed youth, her face an image of dark intent. Reaching down, she grabbed him by the hair, and pulled him close to her.
Her voice hardened, "Welcome back, Agent Yuy. We weren't expecting you so soon... and certainly not like this."
Fear gripped the boy for the second time that day. Instinct told him to flee, but his body refused to respond.
Having eluded the Alliance, he had fallen prey yet again. This time, to the people that knew him best... the people who had sent him. The ones who knew him, but the ones he did not know. To the Asian Federation.
The woman's other hand came down. The syringe pierced his skin.
The world faded to black.
*****
The corridor had never seemed so empty. Walking silently, his footsteps echoing along the length of the hallway, Duo Maxwell ran a hand through his thick crop of chestnut-brown locks. The trip back to Hilde's had progressed without further awkward questions, and they'd parted amicably, with him promising to bring her out for dinner the next day, but the uncertainty in her eyes were clear.
Something was afoot, and she wasn't in the know.
Frowning, he turned around the corner, stopping in front of one of the many doorways. While Sister was undergoing repairs, the professors had assigned him to one of the spare quarters in the residential annex where most of the staff lived - Relena's quarters were just five doors down, and Noin was a floor up. Punching in his access code, the door swiftly slid open.
He blinked.
Hilde Schebecker was in his room.
*****
The elder Hilde smiled, getting up from the chair as Duo walked into the room. He nodded in greeting, "Ms. Schebecker... can I help you?"
She smiled, "You forgot again..."
The braided cyber-youth paused for a moment, querying his memory. He nodded, smiling sheepishly, "Oh yeah... sorry, Mrs. Maxwell."
The older woman looked at him with a gaze that was almost tender, "You know... for a cybernetic version of the man who is my husband back home, you do a wonderful job of reminding me of him when he was younger, Duo."
Duo Maxwell laughed softly, "I'll take that as a compliment."
Hilde Schebecker sat back down, folding her hands on her lap, "You're obviously wondering why I'm here."
The boy nodded, sitting down on the bed and focusing on the woman who was so important to the professors.
She looked at the boy for a moment.
"You met Hilde earlier, didn't you?"
The youth blinked, "How..."
Hilde cut him off, "I... I am concerned, Duo. My younger self is... very confused. She's uncertain, and scared. She suspects you know more than you're telling her, and this makes her worry."
Duo stood up, staring at the elder woman, "How do you know all this?"
Hilde continued, "You've done a marvelous job at concealing your true nature, Duo... and you've played the role of Blake extremely well. But my younger self... Hilde... isn't blind. She's always had this nagging suspicion that something was awry... and what happened that night with Solo confirmed her worst fears. She suspects strongly now, Duo... and she doesn't believe what you told her just now."
Crossing the distance between them, Duo took the elder Hilde's hands in his own. His eyes took on a pleading look.
"Mrs. Maxwell... please... tell me how you know all of this."
She looked at the boy silently. And she smiled.
"Have you ever wondered why I don't have the Dreams, Duo?"
The braided youth paused. He recalled the professors mentioned that the elder Hilde did not have what was termed as Dreams, an impossibility by its very nature. All of humanity had the Dreams, even cybernetic clones like himself. They often appeared as visions - visions of a different world, of people both familiar and unfamiliar working and playing. The Dreams spoke, hinted of a world where all was the same... but all was different.
The Dreams never harmed anyone, but some would get too obsessed with them, believing the Dreams to be a supernatural voice telling them about their real calling in life. Some, in their attempt to fulfill what they saw as the prophecy of their Dreams, often became violent, extreme and even insane at times. Hence, the official warnings and training provided by governmental authorities to combat any potential problems the Dreams could cause.
But here, facing him was one who did not Dream.
He answered her, simply, "Yes."
She nodded, "As I have explained to Heero - the Dreams are the result of the accident that created this world. You know I'm from the future, Duo... the future of the world depicted in the Dreams. An experiment I was involved in went awry, sending me and one other into different times in the past. Something that the other traveler did altered history as I knew it, and in the process, changed the world from the way it was into this world as it is now. My world ceased to exist the moment she changed the past - but a faint echo of what was struggled to remain."
She paused, "Things do not change all that easily, Duo. What you Dream of is the world that was meant to be - what you were meant to be in that world. It is the last lingering hope that we... that I have... that things can go back to the way they were. In that world, you were a pilot - one of the best, fighting for people, for justice - a shining example for all. You were one of five specially chosen young men... a leader in your own right."
She looked at him.
"And you were my first love."
Hilde smiled at the young boy, "If I had not been sent here, to this year, then your Hilde would be having Dreams of the life I led. But she does not. Instead, she Dreams of me as I am now, sheltered here in this organization. She knows when I eat, when I sleep, when I laugh and when I cry. She does not know I exist - to her, I am but a fantasy. But I know better. Just as she can see what I do, I know what she does and what she feels."
Understanding dawned on the braided youth.
"That is how I know, Duo... but it is more than that."
The elder Hilde paused yet again, raising a hand to tap thoughtfully at her cheek, "She is the reason I can remain in this world - she is my link to this place. Without her, I cannot survive. Without her, I would become just another fragment of that lost world. I do not understand it, but it is so. That... that is why you were assigned to watch over her, to maintain the illusion of Blake. You are there to protect her, to keep her safe and to prevent her from doing anything rash, as she would well have done had she learnt of his death."
She gazed at the young boy, "That is why it is important for her to be safe. I am the only one with the knowledge and the ability to return the world to what it was - and I'm sure the professors have told you the consequences of leaving this world as it is. Hilde must be kept safe. Heero must assist us. And we must find Wufei before he succeeds in his mission."
Duo Maxwell nodded.
"I understand."
She smiled, "Be careful, Duo."
Leaning over, she drew him into a hug, kissing him lightly on the forehead. The doors closed behind her silent exit.
*****
It was far too quiet. The blond youth muttered silently to himself, twirling around in the huge chair, watching as his massive office twirled round in his vision.
*Dammit, Iria... why won't you talk to me?*
Quatre sighed.
*I need coffee.*
Swiveling around, he reached out for the porcelain cup on his table. The cup flew into his hand. He blinked.
*Not again... why does... this... keep... on... happening?!*
Gritting his teeth, he hurled the cup across the room, fully intending to smash the fragile crockery against the door out of sheer frustration. Instead, he heard a dull thud.
Turning, he stared as Tryten, his temporary assistant, walked into the room, the cup firmly in his grasp.
And still half full. He was smiling, "Good throw, sir."
Quatre found himself smiling back, "Well, that was... a good catch, I guess." He chuckled softly, "I'm sorry, Tryten. I didn't hear you come in."
He eyed the taller boy, laughing a little, "I didn't sense you coming in either... have you been practicing behind my back or something?"
Tryten appeared amused, "I think you were just a little preoccupied, sir."
The blond youth grinned, his mood clearly improved. He found himself looking at the other boy. There was something about him that couldn't be explained - just his presence alone made Quatre feel calmer and more at ease. Perhaps it was something about the way he carried himself - Tryten always looked prim and proper, confident and self-assured, all of which were qualities Quatre Winner had to force himself to learn, but which Tryten carried with natural ease.
The blond smiled again, "So, what brings you in here, Tryten? I thought I asked you to take the day off..."
The taller youth nodded, "You did, sir, but Ms. Winner stopped me in the hallway and asked me to hand this to you." He passed a small datachip over to Quatre.
Taking it, the blond youth studied the chip carefully. Iria. Turning back to Tryten, he spoke quietly, "Thanks, Tryten."
"You're welcome, sir."
The intercom broke in, the voice of Quatre's secretary filling the room, "Mr. Winner, incoming call from Los Angeles - specific location untraceable. Shall I accept?"
Quatre and Tryten exchanged a look, and the blond youth nodded at the other. Taking the cue, Tryten swiftly turned around, exiting the room quietly. Turning back to the intercom panel, the blond youth spoke again, "Patch the call through now, Margaret. Thank you."
He faced the communications screen, preparing himself for the one he knew he would be coming face-to-face with shortly. The call was patched through.
"Ah, Quatre. It's nice to see you again. How is everything?"
The blond kept his face expressionless, "Professor J. To what do I owe this call?"
The scientist paused for a moment, before catching himself. A small smile creased his face, "You business people... direct and straight to the point as always. Very well, Quatre. Down to business, it is."
The professor stared at the young boy through the monitor, "Something's happened to Heero, it seems."
The mention of the Japanese youth got Quatre's full attention, "What? But..."
The scientist spoke over him, "He has failed to report in for three days now... we've tried contacting him but his communication device appears to have been deactivated."
He paused, "As things stand, I am forced to make several conclusions - either Heero has been killed - a most improbable thing considering his abilities, or he does not wish to be contacted. Or either the Alliance or the Federation has him."
Aged eyes met blue, "In any case..."
Quatre interrupted, "You want me to go find him."
The scientist nodded, "I can't hide anything from you... yes, I would appreciate it greatly if you could go find him - it is imperative that he not fall into the hands of the Alliance, or worse, back into the grasp of the Federation... I would have otherwise sent Duo, but he's uncovered a strong lead as to the whereabouts of Wufei and is needed here. I have no choice, Quatre."
The boy remained silent, deep in thought.
"I'll do it."
J smiled, "Good lad. Hurry now, we must know for sure."
The screen blinked out.
*****
Less than two hours later, the corporate jet belonging to the Maganac Corporation touched down at Tokyo Narita, the second time in a week they had taken this route. Encircled by a massive entourage, Quatre Raberba Winner, president and CEO of the world's largest manufacturer of neo-titanium swept into the airport, clearing through immigration with blazing speed - it helped sometimes to have friends high up in diplomatic circles.
Having noted down orders to Margaret for the rest of the staff, the blond youth turned to his new assistant, "Tryten, follow them back to the residence and make sure everyone gets settled in properly."
The boy shifted uncomfortably, and Quatre frowned, "What's wrong?"
The other youth flushed, "Sir... something happened to Mr. Yuy, right? I just know it... somehow.., I mean... why else would we come rushing down here all of a sudden?"
Blinking back surprise, the blond youth dragged the taller boy away from the rest of the staff, "How did you know? Did you..."
Tryten shook his head vehemently, his brown locks shaking and falling over his face, "No, sir... I didn't pry into your thoughts... it's just a gut feeling... but I want to help, sir. I want to help you find him... I mean, I tried so hard to be careful, to make sure no one saw us enter the airport or him board the plane... but I obviously wasn't diligent enough. I want to do something to make it up."
Quatre stared at the other boy.
His eyes were pleading, "Please, sir."
The blond nodded.
*****
The youth woke up to the sharp sensation of pain wracking his entire body. He coughed, his whole body shaking with the effort. He forced his eyes to open.
He was in a lab of some sort, strapped down to an examination table, utterly and stark naked. Above him, various scanners and sensors whirred as they did their job, and in the distance, various masked technicians and scientists in white lab coats stood at various terminals, working furiously. In the distance, a large triangular logo came into focus, and Heero stared.
A Federation seal.
The memories flooded back - the inn, the hot springs, the woman...
Noriko.
*I was so... naïve.*
He tried to move, tried to rip to shreds the bonds that held him down. He couldn't move an inch. His body refused to respond.
Through the haze, a familiar voice wafted in, "I'd save your strength, if I were you. Even with the abilities we gave you, it's going to be a long night, Mr. Yuy."
His thoughts flashed back into focus. He glanced at the person he knew was siding up to him. Watching as she moved, he frowned. She looked different - a tight black uniform covered her lithe frame and her brown hair was tied up into a fierce bun. A small pair of rimmed spectacles rested lightly on her face. She looked different, but two things were clear - the badge she wore clearly marked her as a member of the Asian Federation Defense Corps' Elite Forces, and the voice told him who she was. He tried to say something, his lips fighting against him.
"No... nori.."
She smiled at him, a cunning fox eyeing its prey, "What a silly name, that 'Noriko'. I'm surprised you fell for it, Agent Yuy... Heero." Leaning close, she toyed with his chin, "Or... perhaps, can it be really true that you don't remember anything? That you don't remember me?"
His blank gaze met her stare.
She shook her head slowly, "Such a pity... we were so good together. And look at you now, reduced to this." Turning around, she picked up an applicator patch, the twin of the one that had been Heero's undoing. She faced him again, playing with the patch.
"Isn't it marvelous what technology can do? We have the power to create supermen and unleash them out on to the unsuspecting world... unstoppable killing machines bent on fulfilling their mission... and then we can create a small piece of cloth more than capable of stopping such inhuman creatures in their tracks, should it become necessary."
She leaned in closer again, her voice that of Noriko's again, dangling the patch in front of the captive youth, "Of course, the patch works by taking control of your nervous system, thereby bypassing and not having to fight your enhanced abilities, and therefore has to be applied to a section of the body that has a lot of raw nerve endings... for maximum effect."
Her hand reached down towards Heero's crotch, her smile still fixed and unwavering, "Of course, we saw just how easy it was to get it to work, didn't we, Heero?"
"Agent Anne."
The woman jerked her head up towards the voice, and the youth tried to follow suit - but his body refused to obey. The voice, a slightly deep tenor, was speaking again.
"Stop teasing the subject, Agent. You have work to complete, and the tests must go underway shortly if we are to file the report to HQ on time."
Anne nodded, straightening out and saluting, "Yes, sir." She turned back to Heero, her smile returning. She winked at him, "You're in for some fun. Be nice and cooperative, and it'll be that much easier for us to find out what went wrong. Then all that's left will be for us to make the necessary corrections, reprogram you, and you can be off on your way... and none of this will ever have happened."
She walked off.
*****
"Mr. Winner..."
The youth rushed on.
"Mr. Winner!"
He jerked around, his face the epitome of annoyance. He snapped, "What is it?" Not expecting such a sudden movement, the staff member from the local Maganac offices skidded to a halt. He flushed, "Um... sir, our sources in the Intelligence Department told us that the last tracked location for that communication device was just outside the Euro-American Alliance Embassy. Sir..."
The staff member stared at the dilapidated old building in the heart of Tokyo that his employer appeared to be headed for, "Sir... are you sure you know where you're going? Um... we could arrange for transport to.."
Quatre came as close as he ever did to snarling, brushing past the employee and continuing without so much as a hesitation, "Yes, I know where I'm going! Go back to the office, idiot!"
Leaving the hapless employee behind, the blond youth quickly swerved at the next corner. Swiftly, as though gliding on air, his companion appeared by his side, the taller one looking with concern at the blond youth. Tryten whispered, "Sir... you must calm yourself. He was only trying to help."
Quatre Winner nodded violently, "I know he was! But those idiots had me trekking all over this stupid city for hours now, chasing pointless leads! Who knows what could've happened to Heero by now?"
Tryten eyed his employer, "But... you know where he is."
The blond sighed, tapping his head, "I had no other choice... I had to find him... you know... the newtype way."
The taller youth nodded, "It must be very convenient, being a high-level newtype."
Quatre ignored the other boy for once, "He's in there, but I'm beginning to get the sense that he's somewhere below ground."
"And you think the two of us can get in and get him out? Perhaps we should call the authori.." The blond youth cut him off, shaking his head, "There's no time... but I have a plan."
For his part, Tryten looked rather uncertain.
"I hope so, sir."
*****
Standing in the corridor of the underground complex, Tryten watched in amazement as two armoured security guards walked past them, ignorant of their presence. He turned to the other youth.
"Mr. Winner, perhaps I should learn to trust you a little more."
The blond youth frowned at him, "Quiet. This isn't easy, you know... I have to concentrate."
Applying the newtype powers that had been a curse throughout his life, Quatre Raberba Winner scanned ahead, down the corridor leading to the place he knew Heero was being held. His abilities had not failed him yet, successfully masking their presence from everything that stood in their way - guards, security cameras, even the sniffer dogs that roamed the complex at regular intervals.
He focused harder - yes, Heero was definitely there, at the end of the corridor - and nothing stood between them. There were no more guards, no more cameras.
They were through. They had made it.
He smiled at Tryten, "He's over there."
The other boy nodded, leading the way down the corridor cautiously. Mere moments passed, and both youths found themselves in front of a massive locked door. Without skipping a beat, Quatre put both hands on the door, closing his eyes and focusing, clearing his mind.
The door whirred and clicked, emitted a small beep. And unlocked.
Smiling, the blond youth pushed it open, admitting both into a huge laboratory area. He gasped.
Filled with technicians and scientists in lab coats, the room had the sterile smell of a hospital. But in the center of the room lay Heero, on top of an examination table, unconscious, his body bruised and battered. At such close proximity, the blond newtype could feel the other boy's wounds.
*How can he withstand such... pain? What could they have done to him... to one with his abilities... to injure him so?*
Rushing to his side, Quatre placed a hand on the broken form of the Japanese youth. He shook his head in disgust. How could they...?
As though noticing something, Tryten suddenly rushed forward, "Sir! Mr. Winner... you're..."
A startled shout came from the far corner of the lab. All eyes in the room suddenly trained on them. Quatre blinked.
*Damn...*
He'd forgotten to hide their presence.
One of the technicians was lunging towards what could only be an alarm switch, and instinctively, Quatre reacted. He closed his eyes, focusing, unleashing a concentrated burst of mental power that blinded everything in the room, sending everyone around him, save for Heero and Tryten, reeling to the ground. The men and women in lab coats were unconscious before they hit, stunned by the sudden surge of mental energy.
Quatre blinked, more in surprise than in anything else - his control over his power was sketchy at best... sometimes it worked... sometimes it didn't. That blast hadn't been what he was expecting, but it did it's job.
At least no one died this time.
He turned back to where Heero lay.
And an alarm sounded. The huge metal door sealed shut. Red warning lights strobed across the room.
Twisting around, Quatre found himself yelling over the din, "What the hell's happening?" Tryten never got the chance to reply. Within a fraction of a second, a piercing whine began emitting out of the speakers, sending both youths to their knees.
*No...*
Fighting with every ounce of strength he possessed, Quatre forced himself to stand up, to try and locate the source of the noise that was doing this to them, to smash the device to pieces with his power.
*No...*
He fell to the ground.
*****
His head felt as though it were on fire. Blinking to clear his vision, he felt a surge of pure alarm course through his veins. They were surrounded - black-uniformed Federation guards aimed deadly-looking rifles at both of them. Next to him, Mr. Winner lay sprawled on the ground, still unconscious. Craning his neck to look around the room, he noted quickly that Heero had been removed.
In the distance, a voice was audible. He froze.
*No... of all the people to...*
His mission was severely compromised now. He had no choice...
"If it isn't Quatre Winner of the Maganac Corporation... so, it appears that our Mr. Yuy made some friends in high places while he was away..."
The owner of the voice turned towards the other youth. And paused.
A hearty laugh.
"Well, well, well - the plot thickens, doesn't it, Lieutenant Barton? What brings you to the heart of Federation territory? I trust you didn't enjoy your previous visit enough to want to make a return trip."
"Tryten" forced a smile, "I think you know full well why I'm here."
The retort was quick, "Of course I do... I'm just playing around."
The voice jerked around, "Wake Mr. Winner up. I have some things I would like to say to him."
With military precision and speed, a guard rushed up to the fallen blond, applying a stimulant patch to the boy's skin. The guard paused, waiting.
The voice snapped at him, "You're done, aren't you? Get out of my way."
Tryten blinked... staring at the guard. Something... something was wrong. The guard's eyes were bulging, and his voice was somewhat constricted as it came out, "Sir... I can't... I can't move..."
It was the last thing he said - without warning, the guard was lifted up by some unseen force, held aloft for a second before bursting to shreds in a sea of red. Blood splattered across the room.
Quatre Winner's eyes snapped open.
Tryten, normally known as Lieutenant Trowa Barton of the Euro-American Alliance Special Forces, backed away, in more of a hurry than ever before. Something was different about the blond youth now. His eyes widened as his thoughts fled back a few weeks.
~~Within such close proximity, Tryten could feel the strength emanating from the boy. It was overpowering... dark... frightening. Though he remained calm on the outside, somewhere deep inside, something that was Tryten... something that was more than Tryten... screamed, unable to comprehend the power that lay within the other boy.~~
~~He could feel it. The raw power that lay within the other was completely overwhelming. Something was holding the power at bay now, but there was a battle going on within the boy, he could see that. He did not want to see what would happen should the boy lose control.~~
And it had happened.
Trowa tried calling out to the blond youth, calling his name, pleading for him to stop. He was ignored. Quatre was standing up now - the remains of two more guards scattered across the room. All around, monitors, screens, equipment and lights were shattering with massive force - the very structure of the complex seemed to be shaking.
Looking at Quatre, seeing the wild-eyed, glazed, unseeing look, the one known as Tryten felt real fear for the first time in his life. Even being in the hands of the enemy had never been so terrifying. He closed off his mind, every ounce of his hidden abilities fighting against the barrage that was emanating from the boy. The non newtypes, the guards, could not feel what he did - they only suffered the effects of the youth's rage. But Trowa Barton could feel the power in the other boy - the power that had been kept in check before by something... but was now rushing, pouring out of the boy with maddening fury.
The remaining guards were firing at the blond youth now - succeeding only in killing each other as the bullets were deflected away from the boy by some unseen force, sending the deadly rounds ricocheting around the room, occasionally finding a target other than that for which it had been intended.
With a primal roar of unchecked anger, Quatre's eyes blazed and all the remaining guards fell to the ground as though crushed by some massive weight, their weapons warping and twisting mere moments before their bones cracked under the strain, reducing them to pulpified mass. The ground itself gave way to the unseen power, cracking and twisting in the aftermath of the blond youth's fury.
And all of a sudden, Trowa Barton found himself alone with what was once Quatre Raberba Winner.
TO BE CONTINUED.
SR - sandrock@sandrockproductions.com bug him to finish the story.
Written by Sandrock
sandrock@sandrockproductions.com
sandrock@gundamwing.mailbox.as
LEGAL DISCLAIMER
Gundam Wing belongs to someone else. That's why KINDRED SPIRITS is a fanfic and not an OVA series.
BLATANT ADVERTISING
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Content Guideline: R, for graphic violence, mild profanity, mild sexual references.
***********************************************************************
April 25, AC 195. Tokyo, Japan. Narita Commercial Airport
Heero Yuy stood at the large full-length windows of the arrival hall of Tokyo Narita, watching as the private jet that brought him here soared off into the sky, heading back to Singapore, back to the headquarters of the Maganac Corporation. Back to Quatre.
Turning slowly, he made his way over to the immigration sector, his senses taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling, crowded airport. Once, centuries ago, Tokyo Narita had been Japan's main international airport, but it had long since been converted to a corporate port, run by one of the many large private-sector conglomerates borne out of the land of the rising sun - a private airport for the many corporate and private jets that wanted to beat the rush at the new international airports built off the eastern coast of Japan on various artificial islands.
As he neared immigration, the Japanese youth reached into the haversack that held the few possessions he had taken along with him on the trip, and slowly took out the forged Euro-American Alliance passport that Quatre had procured for him. Studying it for a moment, he found himself saying a silent prayer.
When the blond youth had first handed it to him, Heero had momentarily questioned the decision of using an EA passport to enter Asian Federation territory, but his concerns had been quickly dismissed - to have used an Asian Federation passport would've been far more foolhardy. Certainly, the AF authorities in Japan would be far better equipped to spot a fake AF passport, as compared to documents purportedly belonging to the EA Alliance - after all, the two governments weren't exactly best of friends...even though there was peace.
Putting his thoughts aside, he made his way to the nearest available booth, and forced himself to smile naturally at the immigration officer, handing over the dark blue passport. The officer smiled back lightly, before taking the book and flipping it open to process Heero's entry.
The Japanese youth stood quietly, waiting. Watching.
*What if... what if it all falls through?*
The immigration officer looked at him now, glancing back down at the picture on the document for a moment before feeding the passport into a scanner. The machine whirred, and emitted a few beeps. The officer spoke.
"It'll take a little while to process, sir. Please hold on."
Heero nodded, trying not to appear too unnerved. The machine continued beeping and whirring, emitted one final loud beep, and the officer smiled.
"You're cleared for entry, Mr. Saito. Welcome to Japan. Will you be staying long?"
Heero allowed himself a quick breath, before shaking his head, "Probably not. I wanted to come back and see the place for myself - how things have changed. It's hard being Japanese outside of Japan these days."
The immigration officer laughed, "Well, over there on the Alliance side at least. We're doing pretty well here in the Federation. You should come back, you know. Sure, the grass looked greener over there... but is it, really?"
Heero paused. Picking up his passport, he shoved it back inside his haversack, before smiling back at the officer, "Perhaps not... but I'm here now. Who knows?" He trailed off.
The officer smiled, "Have a good trip, Mr. Saito."
Heero Yuy nodded, making his way through immigration and out to the public area.
The crowd in the arrival hall was no match for the scene that greeted the Japanese youth here - lines of waiting people scanned the exit from immigration, searching for colleagues, friends and loved ones. In as much abundance were people in driver uniforms - holding up placards with names of people they were required to fetch. In the face of organised chaos, Heero stared, looking for a directory or signboard that would point him in the direction of a taxi pick-up point.
He had barely spotted a nearby information counter when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned around. And looked up. Towering over him were two, rather large, fair-skinned men. One wore a dark black suit and had piercing blue eyes. The other wore a driver's uniform and had a peaked cap on that covered a mass of blond hair.
The man in the suit spoke, "Mr. Yuy? We're from the Maganac Corporation. Mr. Winner sent a message ahead asking for us to pick you up and arrange for your accomodation during your stay here."
Heero Yuy stared at the two men. Had Quatre mentioned anything about this? Not that he could recall, but it did seem like the sort of thing Quatre would've done. He had left in kind of a hurry and Quatre had been awfully concerned. Heero sighed - sometimes Quatre tried too hard to be a mother-hen.
He nodded towards the two men, "Lead on, then."
The suited man nodded, "Very well. This way, please, Mr. Yuy. The car is waiting."
*****
The crowded streets of Tokyo - every nook, corner and alleyway bustling with people and activity - sped past the limousine with fierce intensity, the black tint of the windows casting an almost ominous shadow on the entire cityscape.
At least, it was so from Heero's viewpoint, as he scanned the horizon for any signs of familiarity. He shook his head - it was no use. It was... as though he was here for the first time. This city... was his home. He had been born here. Lived here most his life.
At least he had thought so.
He was a stranger in his own home.
Leaning back, he looked around the passenger compartment of the limousine, and couldn't help but smile - Quatre certainly knew how to take care of his people. The dark suited man sat in front with the driver in the navigational compartment, leaving him alone with all the facilities one could hope for - a computer terminal, a television, a mini-bar... the list went on.
He smiled, closing his eyes and trying to relax. All was going better than he'd expected.
*****
The Japanese youth was woken up abruptly twenty minutes later, when the vehicle made a sudden sharp turn. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he squinted out the front windscreen, trying to make out where they were.
The crowded streets of Tokyo had given way to a broad plaza - the sounds of the city were still audible, so they were probably just on the outskirts, but the view in front of him was in complete juxtaposition from that of the packed city. In the near distance, a huge mansion lay sprawled across a grassland that was neatly intersected by the wide road they were traveling down, and Heero couldn't help but be impressed, finding himself secretly wondering just exactly how rich Quatre was.
As they neared the huge mansion, he leaned closer, trying to get a better view of the place. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.
At the grand entrance to the mansion, a flag flew proudly in the wind. A familiar, dark-blue flag.
A flag imprinted with the official seal of the Embassy of the Euro-American Alliance.
Heero Yuy fell back into his seat. Quatre hadn't sent those men.
The Alliance had him.
He forced himself to regulate his breathing - the last thing he needed now was to hyperventilate. His mind worked furiously.
*I have to escape... have to get out of here.*
*I can't let them have me...*
As though right on schedule, the doors of the limousine resounded with a loud simultaneous 'click' as locking mechanisms fell into place, and large metal shutters slid firmly over the tinted glass windows, throwing the entire cabin into utter darkness.
The darkness galvanized Heero into action. Lunging towards the door, he tried the handle. It was locked. Drawing his arm back, his right hand clenched into a fist mere moments before he slammed it right into the door, sending the reinforced metal construct flying off its hinges.
Deftly, he rolled out of the vehicle, landing on the roadside with a dull thud and picked himself up quickly, a little surprised he'd managed to pull that off so smoothly.
The reaction from the limousine was no slower - the screeching sound of brakes applied at high speed filled the air as the vehicle skidded around to a halt, facing Heero.
Mere metres away.
Heero swallowed. Not all as well as he'd hoped.
The passenger side door of the driver's cabin opened, and piercing blue eyes stared at the Japanese youth as the man prepared to come out. Heero glanced around - to his left and right, wide-open grassland that offered no shelter from a speeding car. To the front, the embassy of the ones bent on capturing him. There was only one place to go - back towards the city.
Heero Yuy launched himself with surprising speed, taking the blue-eyed man by surprise. It was a surprise that didn't last long - mere moments later, Heero's ears told him that someone was on the hunt.
The Japanese youth knew that he was fast, at least now - the abilities that had been awakened inside him had given him strength, speed and stamina far beyond human capabilities, but he bore no illusions of being able to outrun a car at full speed.
All of a sudden, the city seemed too far away. Yet, the boy persevered.
*I won't let them have me! Not again!*
~~Heero had no time to react before Duo grabbed his shoulder and shoved him away. The Japanese youth hit the ground with a dull thud, wincing from the impact. He looked up, allowing a slight tinge of irritation to creep into his voice, a mere shadow of what he was feeling within, "What was that all...? He cut short abruptly as he saw what Duo was holding. The braided youth's hand was right at the spot where Heero's heart would've been if he had been standing. A hand that was clutching at the long shaft of a crossbow bolt. ~~
~~Heero's mind froze, putting two and two together. A crossbow. Someone had fired a crossbow bolt at him. The weapon of choice of professional assassins. Silent, yet as accurate and deadly as any firearm, the crossbow had been revived from it's medieval inception and enhanced with modern technology into a weapon feared by rich businessmen and politicians alike. But, certainly not one a Japanese university student struggling to earn a living should have to worry about.~~
*Not again. Never. Not without a fight...*
The outskirts of Tokyo city were just in front of him now, and the signs of inhabitation were becoming obvious. Several pedestrians made their way hurriedly along the sidewalk of the large road, staring at the open grassland that was so rare a sight in the crowded streets of the metropolis. In front, a few vehicles sped past along an intersecting road.
But the roar of the engine in his ears meant that his pursuers were just behind him.
*I have to reach... I can't...*
It was then that the bullet sped past his head, narrowly missing him. The echoing crack filled the relative silence.
The pedestrians screamed, some diving for cover while others fled hap hazardously - the typical pandemonium one expects when a weapon gets fired.
Heero Yuy grounded to a halt, not so much in fear as in concern for innocents that might get hit by a stray bullet should he continue running.
*I can't let them...*
The limousine pulled up next to him, stopping slowly and almost casually. The door opened and piercing blue eyes met his again.
*No... I won't let them do this... not to me.*
The faint echo of an idea hit him, and instinctively, he reacted. Slamming the door back, he shoved the blue-eyed man back into the vehicle. Bending down, he gripped the base of the limousine with both hands, locking his arms in a death grip with the metal of the car.
He paused, a tinge of uncertainty creeping into his psyche. Could he do it? The professors hadn't been able to determine his strength, but...
Heero shrugged. *There's nothing to lose.*
*Please let this work.*
His muscles flexed, and the metallic frame of the limousine made a startled squeak as the vehicle was lifted clean off the ground and onto its side in one swift motion.
Heero stared, looking at the vehicle now balanced precariously on its side, then down at his hands. It had seemed so... easy.
*What... what have they done to me?*
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Whatever had been done to him... it had served him well for once. *But wasn't it what got you into all this trouble to begin with, you idiot?*
Clearing his mind, he set about to finish what he'd started - a light push sent the vehicle careening down onto its hood, the impact warping the weaker hood frame and jamming the doors, effectively trapping his two would-be captors.
Walking in front of the vehicle, a small smile crossed his face. Placing one hand on the front bonnet of the limo, he lifted the front of the vehicle up to eye-level, enough for him to look the occupants straight in the eye.
The Japanese youth held it there just long enough to let them see him smile mischievously, before letting go and sending them crashing back down again.
He walked off.
*****
They were beginning to annoy him. Just a little, at least.
Dropping the now unconscious thug that had tried to charge at him and stab him with a previously concealed dagger, Duo Maxwell twisted around with inhuman speed, his right fist connecting with the fool who thought he could sneak up behind him, sending both the man and his crowbar flying into the far wall. The sound of concrete cracking never sounded better.
The braided youth grumbled silently to himself as he surveyed his handiwork - he hated coming to these seedy thug bars - a combination of aggressive personalities, lots of alcohol and lax morals usually meant for a barroom brawl or two - especially when one had to ask potentially sensitive questions.
Duo cracked his knuckles, allowing himself a small smile - he didn't really care today though. After everything that had happened, it felt good to let off some steam - but he had to be careful. When the first guy had attacked him without warning, something emotional in the braided youth had just snapped - like the proverbial camel and the straw - and it had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to turn the man into bloody pulp.
He sighed, sparing a glance at the twelve or so thugs lying on the floor, groaning. *Maybe I got a little out of hand...*
The braided youth now turned his gaze over to the rest of the patrons of this seedy place - a silent challenge to any and everyone else who thought they could take him on. None dared to make eye contact, and the youth smirked. These people always had to learn the hard way.
Walking over to where his final assailant had landed, he grabbed hold of the man's shirt roughly, and dragged him unceremoniously over to the counter, before picking him up and seating him on the countertop a little harder than necessary. Shifting his grip to the man's neck, he slammed the man hard on his back against the countertop, applying a little more pressure to his grip.
The youth's voice took on a menacing quality; every sign of the usually cheerful Duo vanished.
"You know something I don't, big guy. Talk."
The thug stared at him through bruised eyes; he was still grinning madly. He spat at the boy's face, and waited, still showing teeth at Duo.
A low chuckle escaped from the braided youth's throat, a chuckle that quickly died out. Without warning, Duo dragged the man off the counter, lifting him by the neck just high enough off the ground to make his feet dangle a little. Like a rag doll, he carried the thug over to where he had previously landed.
The braided youth picked up the fallen crowbar, once again roughly slamming the man into the ground. Pinning the thug down with his body, Duo Maxwell took the crowbar in his hands and swiftly twisted the metallic implement around the man's neck before he could even yell in surprise.
Throat now constricted, a startled gasp emerged from the man.
A rage unlike any before flared across the braided youth's face, and he spoke once again, his voice clipped and strangely subdued.
"Talk now."
The man stared back, his voice wheezing, "Up yours, bitch."
Duo Maxwell's hands lashed forward, grabbing hold of the crowbar. The metal twisted like paper in his hands as he tightened the improvised noose around the man's neck even further. The man choked.
Something close to a snarl emerged from the youth's throat, "Tell me what I need to know now, or I swear to god I'll twist your fucking head off!"
Without giving the man time to react, the youth's hands swept into motion, tightening, constricting. The crowbar squealed from the pressure. The man began turning blue.
Several of the thugs tried to aid the man; the braided youth flung them away like bits of paper. Mindlessly, he persevered, twisting, getting closer, closer... closer to the point where bone would shatter.
A resounding crack filled the room, breaking his fixation.
Duo Maxwell jerked back, his hands trembling. His mind raced.
*What the hell am I doing? I was going to... going to... k...*
Beneath him, the man wheezed, trying to cough but unable to because of the constricted space.
"I have the information you're looking for. I'll spill it... just let him go. He ain't done you no harm, kid. It's not worth killing over."
The braided youth turned in the direction the voice came from - and found himself looking at the bartender, the double-barreled shotgun responsible for the blast of sound that brought him back to reality still smoking in his hand.
For a moment, Duo Maxwell stared at the man - balding, with a thin mustache and beard and a pair of sunglasses - he looked nothing like the sort of person one would find around here. But he was, and said he knew.
The braided youth picked himself off the wheezing thug, ignoring the men who rushed to their fallen comrade to try and free him. All around, huge, fierce-looking thugs backed away as he walked over to the man behind the counter.
Reaching, he eyed the balding guy. And nodded.
"Talk."
*****
Ten minutes later, Duo Maxwell stepped out into the cold night breeze of the city of Los Angeles. Inside the bar, someone cranked up a jukebox and the sounds of revelry once again took over - apparently at least some within were eager to get drunk again, have a good time and forget about the inhuman youth that had crashed in that night.
He sighed - after a lot of uncharacteristic pleading and coaxing on the part of the thugs, the braided youth had agreed to remove the crowbar from his unfortunate victim's neck - their own failed attempts probably sending their fear of him up a few notches.
He grimaced - he hated being feared... but sometimes you needed things to be so to get the job done. Shrugging, he walked off into the night.
*What the hell happened back there?*
*What was I doing to that man? What... what came over me?*
He looked at his hands, remembering the sensations.
*I wonder... if that's how Solo felt when he killed those guards.*
Shaking his head, he filed a mental note into the mission log for Zechs to have him sent for a thorough inspection once Sister was repaired. Something wasn't right, and the last thing he wanted to happen was to have himself turn into the next Solo.
*Solo...*
Thoughts of his twin stopped him in his tracks.
*Solo...*
*Damn it.*
The braided youth drove a fist into the nearest wall with a resounding thud, sending cracks running up and down the entire frame.
*Damn it all.*
"Blake?"
Duo's head whipped around at the familiar voice, his hand jerked away from the wall and his body moving swiftly to cover the surface he'd just scarred. He spoke, his voice tentative.
"Hil... Hilde."
The young woman before him stared at him, eyes wide, "Blake..."
The braided youth shifted uncomfortably. *How much did she see?*
She was moving closer now.
"Blake... is it really you?"
He breathed a sigh of relief. Smiling at her, he nodded.
There were tears in her eyes as she dove straight into his arms, hugging him and holding him tight. Her voice wavered as she tried to speak.
"Blake... I... I was so worried about you! What happened to you? I've... I've been trying to call you for a whole week, but... you just... I was... worried... especially after that... that night..."
He silenced her with a kiss. Moments seemed like eternity.
When he finally broke away, she was staring at him; her eyes still brimming with unshed tears. His voice was soft.
"Everything's okay, Hilde. I'm okay... I'm here."
She frowned, "But... those men... they burst into my place and wanted you. What have you gotten yourself into, Blake?"
He smiled his best smile, still holding her tightly, "A small misunderstanding, Hilde. They were looking... they were looking for the wrong person."
*the wrong person...*
Hilde's frown refused to be placated, "Are you sure? You're... you're in no danger, are you? Then why haven't you been returning my calls?"
The braided youth snorted, the usual charm and bravado filling his voice, "Ha! Me? In danger? You know me better than that, Hilde."
Gazing at her, his voice took on a serious note, "I'm not in danger, Hilde. I'm perfectly fine. You don't have to worry about me."
For a moment, she studied his face, then looking him up and down. The frown was gone, but her expression still spoke of unease, "You are... aren't you?"
Something seemed to catch her attention, and the frown returned, "But... but you were injured... and it's only been a few days..."
Duo shook his head nonchalantly. The lie came with practiced ease.
"A few cuts and scrapes - the hospital patched me up pretty good. It looked worse than it really was."
She replied, "How could you let them do this to you? Did you report them to the authorities - those... those men? You can't have let them get away with it. How can everything be fine? Weren't you... weren't you at least..."
Her eyes flicked behind him for a moment.
"... at least angry about it?"
A momentary tinge of alarm crept down Duo Maxwell's spine, but he forced himself to remain calm. He replied smoothly.
"Once they discovered their mistake, they were quick to apologise. I was... compensated."
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, "Are you sure you're alright, Blake? You're not hiding anything from me?"
He swallowed.
"No, Hilde. I'm not. Come on, I'll walk you home."
*****
The hot water in the artificial onsen was strangely calming, Heero Yuy found himself thinking as he stretched his lithe body, the tender ministrations of the water currents flowing over his young frame. He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down and to enjoy the bath.
Not that he really needed one - unsurprisingly, he'd arrived at the city centre without even breaking a sweat and feeling uncannily energetic. Realising that he'd probably need to lie low for a while, he'd located the nearest ryokan, the traditional Japanese-style inn and requested for a room. The artificial hot spring within the complex, however, had been an unexpected bonus, and the Japanese youth had taken to the onsen like a fish to water. Though physically unscathed, he was a scattered bunch of nerves, ready to spring at the slightest disturbance.
*Stop thinking, Heero. Relax.*
He sighed, dipping himself deeper into the pool. The bath was strangely deserted - odd for this time of the day, though his ears did pick up some sounds from the adjacent women's bath.
His thoughts wandered.
*Relena...*
That unexpected kiss had surprised them both. But what a nice surprise it had been. She had seemed so... nice, then - so unlike the cold professional who stared daggers at him throughout the day.
And then there was Misako. The Japanese youth blushed. Reaching out of the pool, he grabbed the television remote and aimed it at the screen hanging from the ceiling. He turned the machine on.
And gaped.
*Shit.*
The television was preprogrammed to a news network, and Heero Yuy saw... himself. Labeled as amateur video taken by a passerby, the Japanese youth watched as all of Japan saw him picking up a stretch limousine like a child would pick up a toy. His pulse increased.
*Dammit... dammit, dammit, dammit.*
The reporter was speaking now, quoting the EA Alliance's embassy as having no comment, before cutting over to the scene to air the views of several astonished people who had witnessed the event.
Heero Yuy switched the screen off, his mind racing.
*Not good... not good... too careless. Must think...*
He didn't have the time - the door to the onsen creaked open, admitting someone, and the Japanese youth nearly jumped. He sank back into the water, trying to maintain an air of normalcy. He glanced at the newcomer, ready to nod a greeting.
His eyes bulged.
The newcomer was a woman. Without a scrap of clothing on.
Heero felt his cheeks flush. He tried to speak, his voice coming out in a mild whisper, "Um... ah... excuse me..."
The woman smiled at him, completely unperturbed. She seemed young, at most a few years older than he, with long brown hair trailing down her shoulders and dark, wide eyes. Her slim frame moved with subtle grace as she took a step forward, "Yes?"
Her voice was husky.
The Japanese youth was rooted to the spot, "Um... the... the... women's bath... is... is... is... it's over there." His hand trembled as he pointed in the general direction of the other artificial hot spring.
The woman smiled, taking another step closer. She bent down to look at him, giving the youth a birds' eye view. She giggled softly, "I know."
Heero nearly yelped. Lashing out, he grabbed at his towel, dragging it into the water and wrapped it around his waist.
She was getting closer now, and she glanced down at him, at the towel. The smile didn't waver, "You're a shy one, aren't you? What, don't you like what you see?"
He blushed, trying to look away but not succeeding completely. He found his voice, "Who... um... who are you?"
She smiled again, "The proprietor of this inn is extremely concerned about the well-being of her clients, Saito-san. When you checked in, she noticed that you seemed somewhat under the weather... and she made the necessary arrangements."
The sultry woman was in the water with him now, barely inches away. Heero tried to back away, uncertain, but already up against the side of the pool as he was, there was nowhere else to go. She was still speaking.
"And thus, the onsen is empty, and no one will disturb us."
She smiled again.
"I am Noriko, Saito-san. And I am yours for the night."
Heero swallowed heavily, "But... I... um..."
All conscious thought fled the boy's mind as Noriko moved forward, seating herself squarely on his lap. Her smile widened, and a small laugh escaped her, "Well, -someone's- definitely happy that I'm here..."
Impossible as it would seem, the Japanese youth blushed even deeper, but he remained in thrall, unable to move or think.
*No... this is wrong... I shouldn't... shouldn't be...*
Her arms came up, coming to rest lightly on his shoulders. Slowly, she began kneading, massaging, working out the kinks and the stress, and the boy actually found himself relaxing a little. It felt... good.
She was working down his shoulders now, moving across his arms, down to his chest. Whispering softly, her voice took on an even huskier note, "My, my... you're a strong one for your age..."
She smiled again, taking her hands off him.
"But... if you enjoyed that... I'm sure you'll like this... even more."
Heero opened his eyes just in time to see her hand plunge into the water, her target and intent obvious. He flushed yet again.
Noriko grabbed hold of him.
And his body locked up, frozen in position as though paralysed.
*What... what the...*
The smile was still on Noriko's face.
But it no longer looked seductive.
Ripping the towel from his waist, the woman stood up, wrapping it around her body. She smirked at him.
"You men are all alike... bare a little flesh and instantaneously, your mind changes position - by about four feet down."
Peeling at her hand, she tore off the concealed applicator patch and tossed it aside. She turned to look at the paralysed youth, her face an image of dark intent. Reaching down, she grabbed him by the hair, and pulled him close to her.
Her voice hardened, "Welcome back, Agent Yuy. We weren't expecting you so soon... and certainly not like this."
Fear gripped the boy for the second time that day. Instinct told him to flee, but his body refused to respond.
Having eluded the Alliance, he had fallen prey yet again. This time, to the people that knew him best... the people who had sent him. The ones who knew him, but the ones he did not know. To the Asian Federation.
The woman's other hand came down. The syringe pierced his skin.
The world faded to black.
*****
The corridor had never seemed so empty. Walking silently, his footsteps echoing along the length of the hallway, Duo Maxwell ran a hand through his thick crop of chestnut-brown locks. The trip back to Hilde's had progressed without further awkward questions, and they'd parted amicably, with him promising to bring her out for dinner the next day, but the uncertainty in her eyes were clear.
Something was afoot, and she wasn't in the know.
Frowning, he turned around the corner, stopping in front of one of the many doorways. While Sister was undergoing repairs, the professors had assigned him to one of the spare quarters in the residential annex where most of the staff lived - Relena's quarters were just five doors down, and Noin was a floor up. Punching in his access code, the door swiftly slid open.
He blinked.
Hilde Schebecker was in his room.
*****
The elder Hilde smiled, getting up from the chair as Duo walked into the room. He nodded in greeting, "Ms. Schebecker... can I help you?"
She smiled, "You forgot again..."
The braided cyber-youth paused for a moment, querying his memory. He nodded, smiling sheepishly, "Oh yeah... sorry, Mrs. Maxwell."
The older woman looked at him with a gaze that was almost tender, "You know... for a cybernetic version of the man who is my husband back home, you do a wonderful job of reminding me of him when he was younger, Duo."
Duo Maxwell laughed softly, "I'll take that as a compliment."
Hilde Schebecker sat back down, folding her hands on her lap, "You're obviously wondering why I'm here."
The boy nodded, sitting down on the bed and focusing on the woman who was so important to the professors.
She looked at the boy for a moment.
"You met Hilde earlier, didn't you?"
The youth blinked, "How..."
Hilde cut him off, "I... I am concerned, Duo. My younger self is... very confused. She's uncertain, and scared. She suspects you know more than you're telling her, and this makes her worry."
Duo stood up, staring at the elder woman, "How do you know all this?"
Hilde continued, "You've done a marvelous job at concealing your true nature, Duo... and you've played the role of Blake extremely well. But my younger self... Hilde... isn't blind. She's always had this nagging suspicion that something was awry... and what happened that night with Solo confirmed her worst fears. She suspects strongly now, Duo... and she doesn't believe what you told her just now."
Crossing the distance between them, Duo took the elder Hilde's hands in his own. His eyes took on a pleading look.
"Mrs. Maxwell... please... tell me how you know all of this."
She looked at the boy silently. And she smiled.
"Have you ever wondered why I don't have the Dreams, Duo?"
The braided youth paused. He recalled the professors mentioned that the elder Hilde did not have what was termed as Dreams, an impossibility by its very nature. All of humanity had the Dreams, even cybernetic clones like himself. They often appeared as visions - visions of a different world, of people both familiar and unfamiliar working and playing. The Dreams spoke, hinted of a world where all was the same... but all was different.
The Dreams never harmed anyone, but some would get too obsessed with them, believing the Dreams to be a supernatural voice telling them about their real calling in life. Some, in their attempt to fulfill what they saw as the prophecy of their Dreams, often became violent, extreme and even insane at times. Hence, the official warnings and training provided by governmental authorities to combat any potential problems the Dreams could cause.
But here, facing him was one who did not Dream.
He answered her, simply, "Yes."
She nodded, "As I have explained to Heero - the Dreams are the result of the accident that created this world. You know I'm from the future, Duo... the future of the world depicted in the Dreams. An experiment I was involved in went awry, sending me and one other into different times in the past. Something that the other traveler did altered history as I knew it, and in the process, changed the world from the way it was into this world as it is now. My world ceased to exist the moment she changed the past - but a faint echo of what was struggled to remain."
She paused, "Things do not change all that easily, Duo. What you Dream of is the world that was meant to be - what you were meant to be in that world. It is the last lingering hope that we... that I have... that things can go back to the way they were. In that world, you were a pilot - one of the best, fighting for people, for justice - a shining example for all. You were one of five specially chosen young men... a leader in your own right."
She looked at him.
"And you were my first love."
Hilde smiled at the young boy, "If I had not been sent here, to this year, then your Hilde would be having Dreams of the life I led. But she does not. Instead, she Dreams of me as I am now, sheltered here in this organization. She knows when I eat, when I sleep, when I laugh and when I cry. She does not know I exist - to her, I am but a fantasy. But I know better. Just as she can see what I do, I know what she does and what she feels."
Understanding dawned on the braided youth.
"That is how I know, Duo... but it is more than that."
The elder Hilde paused yet again, raising a hand to tap thoughtfully at her cheek, "She is the reason I can remain in this world - she is my link to this place. Without her, I cannot survive. Without her, I would become just another fragment of that lost world. I do not understand it, but it is so. That... that is why you were assigned to watch over her, to maintain the illusion of Blake. You are there to protect her, to keep her safe and to prevent her from doing anything rash, as she would well have done had she learnt of his death."
She gazed at the young boy, "That is why it is important for her to be safe. I am the only one with the knowledge and the ability to return the world to what it was - and I'm sure the professors have told you the consequences of leaving this world as it is. Hilde must be kept safe. Heero must assist us. And we must find Wufei before he succeeds in his mission."
Duo Maxwell nodded.
"I understand."
She smiled, "Be careful, Duo."
Leaning over, she drew him into a hug, kissing him lightly on the forehead. The doors closed behind her silent exit.
*****
It was far too quiet. The blond youth muttered silently to himself, twirling around in the huge chair, watching as his massive office twirled round in his vision.
*Dammit, Iria... why won't you talk to me?*
Quatre sighed.
*I need coffee.*
Swiveling around, he reached out for the porcelain cup on his table. The cup flew into his hand. He blinked.
*Not again... why does... this... keep... on... happening?!*
Gritting his teeth, he hurled the cup across the room, fully intending to smash the fragile crockery against the door out of sheer frustration. Instead, he heard a dull thud.
Turning, he stared as Tryten, his temporary assistant, walked into the room, the cup firmly in his grasp.
And still half full. He was smiling, "Good throw, sir."
Quatre found himself smiling back, "Well, that was... a good catch, I guess." He chuckled softly, "I'm sorry, Tryten. I didn't hear you come in."
He eyed the taller boy, laughing a little, "I didn't sense you coming in either... have you been practicing behind my back or something?"
Tryten appeared amused, "I think you were just a little preoccupied, sir."
The blond youth grinned, his mood clearly improved. He found himself looking at the other boy. There was something about him that couldn't be explained - just his presence alone made Quatre feel calmer and more at ease. Perhaps it was something about the way he carried himself - Tryten always looked prim and proper, confident and self-assured, all of which were qualities Quatre Winner had to force himself to learn, but which Tryten carried with natural ease.
The blond smiled again, "So, what brings you in here, Tryten? I thought I asked you to take the day off..."
The taller youth nodded, "You did, sir, but Ms. Winner stopped me in the hallway and asked me to hand this to you." He passed a small datachip over to Quatre.
Taking it, the blond youth studied the chip carefully. Iria. Turning back to Tryten, he spoke quietly, "Thanks, Tryten."
"You're welcome, sir."
The intercom broke in, the voice of Quatre's secretary filling the room, "Mr. Winner, incoming call from Los Angeles - specific location untraceable. Shall I accept?"
Quatre and Tryten exchanged a look, and the blond youth nodded at the other. Taking the cue, Tryten swiftly turned around, exiting the room quietly. Turning back to the intercom panel, the blond youth spoke again, "Patch the call through now, Margaret. Thank you."
He faced the communications screen, preparing himself for the one he knew he would be coming face-to-face with shortly. The call was patched through.
"Ah, Quatre. It's nice to see you again. How is everything?"
The blond kept his face expressionless, "Professor J. To what do I owe this call?"
The scientist paused for a moment, before catching himself. A small smile creased his face, "You business people... direct and straight to the point as always. Very well, Quatre. Down to business, it is."
The professor stared at the young boy through the monitor, "Something's happened to Heero, it seems."
The mention of the Japanese youth got Quatre's full attention, "What? But..."
The scientist spoke over him, "He has failed to report in for three days now... we've tried contacting him but his communication device appears to have been deactivated."
He paused, "As things stand, I am forced to make several conclusions - either Heero has been killed - a most improbable thing considering his abilities, or he does not wish to be contacted. Or either the Alliance or the Federation has him."
Aged eyes met blue, "In any case..."
Quatre interrupted, "You want me to go find him."
The scientist nodded, "I can't hide anything from you... yes, I would appreciate it greatly if you could go find him - it is imperative that he not fall into the hands of the Alliance, or worse, back into the grasp of the Federation... I would have otherwise sent Duo, but he's uncovered a strong lead as to the whereabouts of Wufei and is needed here. I have no choice, Quatre."
The boy remained silent, deep in thought.
"I'll do it."
J smiled, "Good lad. Hurry now, we must know for sure."
The screen blinked out.
*****
Less than two hours later, the corporate jet belonging to the Maganac Corporation touched down at Tokyo Narita, the second time in a week they had taken this route. Encircled by a massive entourage, Quatre Raberba Winner, president and CEO of the world's largest manufacturer of neo-titanium swept into the airport, clearing through immigration with blazing speed - it helped sometimes to have friends high up in diplomatic circles.
Having noted down orders to Margaret for the rest of the staff, the blond youth turned to his new assistant, "Tryten, follow them back to the residence and make sure everyone gets settled in properly."
The boy shifted uncomfortably, and Quatre frowned, "What's wrong?"
The other youth flushed, "Sir... something happened to Mr. Yuy, right? I just know it... somehow.., I mean... why else would we come rushing down here all of a sudden?"
Blinking back surprise, the blond youth dragged the taller boy away from the rest of the staff, "How did you know? Did you..."
Tryten shook his head vehemently, his brown locks shaking and falling over his face, "No, sir... I didn't pry into your thoughts... it's just a gut feeling... but I want to help, sir. I want to help you find him... I mean, I tried so hard to be careful, to make sure no one saw us enter the airport or him board the plane... but I obviously wasn't diligent enough. I want to do something to make it up."
Quatre stared at the other boy.
His eyes were pleading, "Please, sir."
The blond nodded.
*****
The youth woke up to the sharp sensation of pain wracking his entire body. He coughed, his whole body shaking with the effort. He forced his eyes to open.
He was in a lab of some sort, strapped down to an examination table, utterly and stark naked. Above him, various scanners and sensors whirred as they did their job, and in the distance, various masked technicians and scientists in white lab coats stood at various terminals, working furiously. In the distance, a large triangular logo came into focus, and Heero stared.
A Federation seal.
The memories flooded back - the inn, the hot springs, the woman...
Noriko.
*I was so... naïve.*
He tried to move, tried to rip to shreds the bonds that held him down. He couldn't move an inch. His body refused to respond.
Through the haze, a familiar voice wafted in, "I'd save your strength, if I were you. Even with the abilities we gave you, it's going to be a long night, Mr. Yuy."
His thoughts flashed back into focus. He glanced at the person he knew was siding up to him. Watching as she moved, he frowned. She looked different - a tight black uniform covered her lithe frame and her brown hair was tied up into a fierce bun. A small pair of rimmed spectacles rested lightly on her face. She looked different, but two things were clear - the badge she wore clearly marked her as a member of the Asian Federation Defense Corps' Elite Forces, and the voice told him who she was. He tried to say something, his lips fighting against him.
"No... nori.."
She smiled at him, a cunning fox eyeing its prey, "What a silly name, that 'Noriko'. I'm surprised you fell for it, Agent Yuy... Heero." Leaning close, she toyed with his chin, "Or... perhaps, can it be really true that you don't remember anything? That you don't remember me?"
His blank gaze met her stare.
She shook her head slowly, "Such a pity... we were so good together. And look at you now, reduced to this." Turning around, she picked up an applicator patch, the twin of the one that had been Heero's undoing. She faced him again, playing with the patch.
"Isn't it marvelous what technology can do? We have the power to create supermen and unleash them out on to the unsuspecting world... unstoppable killing machines bent on fulfilling their mission... and then we can create a small piece of cloth more than capable of stopping such inhuman creatures in their tracks, should it become necessary."
She leaned in closer again, her voice that of Noriko's again, dangling the patch in front of the captive youth, "Of course, the patch works by taking control of your nervous system, thereby bypassing and not having to fight your enhanced abilities, and therefore has to be applied to a section of the body that has a lot of raw nerve endings... for maximum effect."
Her hand reached down towards Heero's crotch, her smile still fixed and unwavering, "Of course, we saw just how easy it was to get it to work, didn't we, Heero?"
"Agent Anne."
The woman jerked her head up towards the voice, and the youth tried to follow suit - but his body refused to obey. The voice, a slightly deep tenor, was speaking again.
"Stop teasing the subject, Agent. You have work to complete, and the tests must go underway shortly if we are to file the report to HQ on time."
Anne nodded, straightening out and saluting, "Yes, sir." She turned back to Heero, her smile returning. She winked at him, "You're in for some fun. Be nice and cooperative, and it'll be that much easier for us to find out what went wrong. Then all that's left will be for us to make the necessary corrections, reprogram you, and you can be off on your way... and none of this will ever have happened."
She walked off.
*****
"Mr. Winner..."
The youth rushed on.
"Mr. Winner!"
He jerked around, his face the epitome of annoyance. He snapped, "What is it?" Not expecting such a sudden movement, the staff member from the local Maganac offices skidded to a halt. He flushed, "Um... sir, our sources in the Intelligence Department told us that the last tracked location for that communication device was just outside the Euro-American Alliance Embassy. Sir..."
The staff member stared at the dilapidated old building in the heart of Tokyo that his employer appeared to be headed for, "Sir... are you sure you know where you're going? Um... we could arrange for transport to.."
Quatre came as close as he ever did to snarling, brushing past the employee and continuing without so much as a hesitation, "Yes, I know where I'm going! Go back to the office, idiot!"
Leaving the hapless employee behind, the blond youth quickly swerved at the next corner. Swiftly, as though gliding on air, his companion appeared by his side, the taller one looking with concern at the blond youth. Tryten whispered, "Sir... you must calm yourself. He was only trying to help."
Quatre Winner nodded violently, "I know he was! But those idiots had me trekking all over this stupid city for hours now, chasing pointless leads! Who knows what could've happened to Heero by now?"
Tryten eyed his employer, "But... you know where he is."
The blond sighed, tapping his head, "I had no other choice... I had to find him... you know... the newtype way."
The taller youth nodded, "It must be very convenient, being a high-level newtype."
Quatre ignored the other boy for once, "He's in there, but I'm beginning to get the sense that he's somewhere below ground."
"And you think the two of us can get in and get him out? Perhaps we should call the authori.." The blond youth cut him off, shaking his head, "There's no time... but I have a plan."
For his part, Tryten looked rather uncertain.
"I hope so, sir."
*****
Standing in the corridor of the underground complex, Tryten watched in amazement as two armoured security guards walked past them, ignorant of their presence. He turned to the other youth.
"Mr. Winner, perhaps I should learn to trust you a little more."
The blond youth frowned at him, "Quiet. This isn't easy, you know... I have to concentrate."
Applying the newtype powers that had been a curse throughout his life, Quatre Raberba Winner scanned ahead, down the corridor leading to the place he knew Heero was being held. His abilities had not failed him yet, successfully masking their presence from everything that stood in their way - guards, security cameras, even the sniffer dogs that roamed the complex at regular intervals.
He focused harder - yes, Heero was definitely there, at the end of the corridor - and nothing stood between them. There were no more guards, no more cameras.
They were through. They had made it.
He smiled at Tryten, "He's over there."
The other boy nodded, leading the way down the corridor cautiously. Mere moments passed, and both youths found themselves in front of a massive locked door. Without skipping a beat, Quatre put both hands on the door, closing his eyes and focusing, clearing his mind.
The door whirred and clicked, emitted a small beep. And unlocked.
Smiling, the blond youth pushed it open, admitting both into a huge laboratory area. He gasped.
Filled with technicians and scientists in lab coats, the room had the sterile smell of a hospital. But in the center of the room lay Heero, on top of an examination table, unconscious, his body bruised and battered. At such close proximity, the blond newtype could feel the other boy's wounds.
*How can he withstand such... pain? What could they have done to him... to one with his abilities... to injure him so?*
Rushing to his side, Quatre placed a hand on the broken form of the Japanese youth. He shook his head in disgust. How could they...?
As though noticing something, Tryten suddenly rushed forward, "Sir! Mr. Winner... you're..."
A startled shout came from the far corner of the lab. All eyes in the room suddenly trained on them. Quatre blinked.
*Damn...*
He'd forgotten to hide their presence.
One of the technicians was lunging towards what could only be an alarm switch, and instinctively, Quatre reacted. He closed his eyes, focusing, unleashing a concentrated burst of mental power that blinded everything in the room, sending everyone around him, save for Heero and Tryten, reeling to the ground. The men and women in lab coats were unconscious before they hit, stunned by the sudden surge of mental energy.
Quatre blinked, more in surprise than in anything else - his control over his power was sketchy at best... sometimes it worked... sometimes it didn't. That blast hadn't been what he was expecting, but it did it's job.
At least no one died this time.
He turned back to where Heero lay.
And an alarm sounded. The huge metal door sealed shut. Red warning lights strobed across the room.
Twisting around, Quatre found himself yelling over the din, "What the hell's happening?" Tryten never got the chance to reply. Within a fraction of a second, a piercing whine began emitting out of the speakers, sending both youths to their knees.
*No...*
Fighting with every ounce of strength he possessed, Quatre forced himself to stand up, to try and locate the source of the noise that was doing this to them, to smash the device to pieces with his power.
*No...*
He fell to the ground.
*****
His head felt as though it were on fire. Blinking to clear his vision, he felt a surge of pure alarm course through his veins. They were surrounded - black-uniformed Federation guards aimed deadly-looking rifles at both of them. Next to him, Mr. Winner lay sprawled on the ground, still unconscious. Craning his neck to look around the room, he noted quickly that Heero had been removed.
In the distance, a voice was audible. He froze.
*No... of all the people to...*
His mission was severely compromised now. He had no choice...
"If it isn't Quatre Winner of the Maganac Corporation... so, it appears that our Mr. Yuy made some friends in high places while he was away..."
The owner of the voice turned towards the other youth. And paused.
A hearty laugh.
"Well, well, well - the plot thickens, doesn't it, Lieutenant Barton? What brings you to the heart of Federation territory? I trust you didn't enjoy your previous visit enough to want to make a return trip."
"Tryten" forced a smile, "I think you know full well why I'm here."
The retort was quick, "Of course I do... I'm just playing around."
The voice jerked around, "Wake Mr. Winner up. I have some things I would like to say to him."
With military precision and speed, a guard rushed up to the fallen blond, applying a stimulant patch to the boy's skin. The guard paused, waiting.
The voice snapped at him, "You're done, aren't you? Get out of my way."
Tryten blinked... staring at the guard. Something... something was wrong. The guard's eyes were bulging, and his voice was somewhat constricted as it came out, "Sir... I can't... I can't move..."
It was the last thing he said - without warning, the guard was lifted up by some unseen force, held aloft for a second before bursting to shreds in a sea of red. Blood splattered across the room.
Quatre Winner's eyes snapped open.
Tryten, normally known as Lieutenant Trowa Barton of the Euro-American Alliance Special Forces, backed away, in more of a hurry than ever before. Something was different about the blond youth now. His eyes widened as his thoughts fled back a few weeks.
~~Within such close proximity, Tryten could feel the strength emanating from the boy. It was overpowering... dark... frightening. Though he remained calm on the outside, somewhere deep inside, something that was Tryten... something that was more than Tryten... screamed, unable to comprehend the power that lay within the other boy.~~
~~He could feel it. The raw power that lay within the other was completely overwhelming. Something was holding the power at bay now, but there was a battle going on within the boy, he could see that. He did not want to see what would happen should the boy lose control.~~
And it had happened.
Trowa tried calling out to the blond youth, calling his name, pleading for him to stop. He was ignored. Quatre was standing up now - the remains of two more guards scattered across the room. All around, monitors, screens, equipment and lights were shattering with massive force - the very structure of the complex seemed to be shaking.
Looking at Quatre, seeing the wild-eyed, glazed, unseeing look, the one known as Tryten felt real fear for the first time in his life. Even being in the hands of the enemy had never been so terrifying. He closed off his mind, every ounce of his hidden abilities fighting against the barrage that was emanating from the boy. The non newtypes, the guards, could not feel what he did - they only suffered the effects of the youth's rage. But Trowa Barton could feel the power in the other boy - the power that had been kept in check before by something... but was now rushing, pouring out of the boy with maddening fury.
The remaining guards were firing at the blond youth now - succeeding only in killing each other as the bullets were deflected away from the boy by some unseen force, sending the deadly rounds ricocheting around the room, occasionally finding a target other than that for which it had been intended.
With a primal roar of unchecked anger, Quatre's eyes blazed and all the remaining guards fell to the ground as though crushed by some massive weight, their weapons warping and twisting mere moments before their bones cracked under the strain, reducing them to pulpified mass. The ground itself gave way to the unseen power, cracking and twisting in the aftermath of the blond youth's fury.
And all of a sudden, Trowa Barton found himself alone with what was once Quatre Raberba Winner.
TO BE CONTINUED.
SR - sandrock@sandrockproductions.com bug him to finish the story.