The Mexican (Part 3)

yue kato

220501

He was beginning to seriously regret his decision.

It had all seemed to go smoothly at first. He'd met Heero Yuy at the spaceport at the appointed time for the shuttle that would take them to Mexico City. His mood was already shitty from the earlier fight with Duo, and the other man's terse comments and impassive attitude did nothing to improve it. But he'd told himself to bear with it. The sooner this was over, the sooner he got paid, and the sooner he could get back to Duo and start damage control.

The troubles began when he realised the small local town they were supposed to head to was literally that. Small. And local. There were no tube lines into it, and the nearest station was 10 miles away.

After stepping out of the tube station, he'd been dismayed to realise that the only form of transport they had into the town of La Augusta was from the car rental outlet. That is, if the piles of metal junk they had could still be considered as automobiles. /Boy, Duo would be in heaven if he could see this now. God, I hope I can still get him to listen to me when I get back. I don't know how I'm going to go on if he decides he doesn't want to see me again.../ He cut off his musings before he could sink further into the pit of self-pity, and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand.

If Heero had been shocked at the lack of advanced technology in the area, he definitely didn't show it. He'd just glanced over the entire lot before indicating a blue monstrosity near the gate to the owner of the car rental. "It's the best of the lot," he informed Quatre as he headed to the car, opening the door on the driver's side.

"Aa," he replied non-commitally. They all looked the same to him. /Duo would know-- Damnit! Stop doing that!/ he ranted at his left brain.

They had trundled out of the car lot, and turned onto a narrow highway. The deserts and orange sand stretched out to either side of them for miles. The hot wind blasted their faces through the open windows but Quatre didn't mind: it reminded him of the heat back on L4, and for the first time since he'd taken this accursed trip, he felt a little better.

Thres hours later, as the sun was sinking in a crimson ball of glory over the western horizon, they emerged from a tunnel through the a mountain of rock and entered La Augusta. Despite the darkening sky, Quatre was determined to get the gun that night. They stopped outside the bar whose address his operative, Abdul, had given him.

He looked over at Heero as the dark-haired man killed the car's engine. And it occurred to him that he probably couldn't operate the vehicle very well, since it was so ancient. A thrill of unease shot down his spine. Pushing it away, he indicated the bar. "My contact is in there. All we have to do is get the gun from him."

Heero nodded and turned away to get out of the car, but Quatre did not miss the sudden gleam in those cobalt blue eyes. It was the closest thing resembling emotion he'd seen the entire time that he'd ever dealt with Heero Yuy. Senses going on full alert, Quatre stepped out of the car as well.

The interior of the bar was dimly lit with some sort of sickly greenish light, and visibility was reduced even further by the cigarette smoke and fumes of whatever drugs were being consumed. But that did not stop all the heads from turning to stare expressionlessly at the two strangers that had entered the building.

Ignoring them, Quatre stalked up to the bar, asking the bartender in a low voice, "I'm looking for H. He's got something for me."

The bartender gave him a onceover, lazily drying a shotglass. Quatre caught his gaze and held it steadily. After half a minute, the bartender looked away, eyes darting to the darkened corner at the back of the building.

Following the direction indicated by the man, Quatre could vaguely make out five shapes hunched over a table. "Thanks." Stepping away, he left a decent 'tip' on the counter that was palmed by the bartender before he'd walked two feet.

He approached the table, Heero a silent shadow behind him. As he got nearer, the smoky haze cleared a little to reveal five mismatched individuals that were well, if he was being honest, quite ugly, really. There was one guy who had a metal tripod claw for a hand, and a lens that covered one of his eyes completely. Another one had beady eyes, a large nose and stitches across his cheek under a mushroom haircut. The one sitting beside him had what seemed to be a fake nose. The last two men appeared to be the more normal-looking of the group. One was a stocky man, bald except for a thin fringe of black hair across the back of his head. And the last was completely bald, olive-skinned, and looked large enough to give Rashid, his head of Security, some competition.

They did not seem to notice his and Heero's presences, intent on their card game. He cleared his throat. "I'm looking for H." There was no reaction for a moment, and he thought they were going to ignore him, until the semi-bald man looked up.

"Who's looking?"

"Raberba."

H stared at him for a while longer, than wordlessly put down his cards and disppeared behind a flap of cloth covering a doorway set in the wall near the table. Minutes later, he emerged with a small-silver white case. He handed it to Quatre, who opened it, lifting out the silver firearm. Even in the dim light, it shone with an unearthly sheen. It was quite beautiful, he had to admit, Treize was rather justified in pursuing it so. He placed it back in its case, and clicked the lid shut, activating the coded lock.

He was heading out with Heero when he heard a voice behind him. "It's cursed, you know. All the hands that it has passed through now belong to the dead." He turned to find the owner of the voice. It was the man with the metal claw.

"I'll take my chances."

"We did warn you." The guy with the stitches spoke up as well.

Then, as if on cue, all five of them picked up their cards and continued their game as if no interruption had occurred at all.

Outside the bar, Heero and Quatre stood on opposite sides of the car. Surreptitiously, Quatre slid the slim dart gun hidden up his sleeve down into his palm. His gut instincts had always been deadly accurate, which was why he was so good at what he did, and the vibes he'd been getting off Heero the past half hour were going from bad to worse.

He reached out to open the car door, when he heard the click of a gun being cocked. He slowly looked up into the barrel of a gun, aimed for his heart. His gaze travelled up the arm holding the gun, up to the expressionless features of Heero Yuy, expressionless except for his eyes, which were now twin orbs of blazing cobalt fire.

"Give me the gun." The voice was soft, but utterly deadly.

Quatre had no doubt that Heero would kill him if he had to, but this wasn't the first time his dealers had decided to double-cross him. Without hesitation, he pressed the trigger of his dart gun, releasing the dart into the tyre. He could hear the almost inaudible hiss of the air escaping. He didn't think that would delay Heero for long, but it would give him enough time to get away. Though how, he still had no idea.

Then, he heard it, a low rumble that seemed to come from a distance. He dared to let his eyes leave the gun for a moment to glimpse the twin headlights of a truck driving up the narrow road. Thank Allah! Now all he needed was a distraction.

He raised the case in front of him, directly in the path of the Heero's gun.

"What are you doing?" He sensed a tinge of confusion. Good, that meant that his guard would be slightly lowered.

"You can't kill me, you know," he began conversationally. "The case can only be opened if you have the correct code. Any other way of forcing it open or keying in the wrong code will cause whatever is in it to be damaged. So, you have a few options. One, you could kill me, and try to force the case open. But I guarantee you, Treize will definitely not be pleased with the results..."

The rumble of the truck was getting louder. The muscles in the arm holding the dart gun tensed.

"Two, you could shoot this case, and again, I don't think you'd like what you would end up with."

The truck was getting nearer, nearer... NOW! His arm swept up, and he fired the dart, dodging just enough for Heero's bullet to whiz by his cheek. Even so, he felt the searing pain, and knew he was not leaving unscathed. He had clambered onto the back of the truck in the seconds it took Heero to get out of his duck and jump across the hood of the car to his side of the car. He saw Heero get into the car and start it, but the car jerked, instead of moving smoothly. Heero was just discovering his flat tyre.

"Or, three," he muttered to himself. "You could let me go, and maybe one day, after a million years have gone by, I won't be mad anymore at your bloody underhanded tactics and let you have the gun."

The lights of the town were soon swallowed up by the darkness of the tunnel. He slipped under the tarp covering the cargo on the back of the truck, leaning against one of the boxes. The bass rumbling of the truck soon lulled him into an uneasy sleep.

When he next woke up, it was already morning and the truck had stopped, and he heard a smattering of voices speaking in a language he did not understand. Probably Mexican - then again, was Mexican a language? Brushing aside those inane thoughts, he peered out from under the tarp.

No one. The speakers had apparently moved away for a while. Taking the chance, he hopped off the truck, darting around the corner before pausing to take his bearings. Looking around, he saw that he was in another town, pretty similar to the one he'd just been to, just slightly bigger.

Great, he had absolutely no idea where he was. Accosting an innocent passer-by, he attempted to find out the name of the town, where he could find a comm unit, or how he could get to Mexico City. It was like a conversation between a cow and a horse. Giving up, he let the befuddled man go with a passable "Gracias". At least he didn't mangle that.

Sinking heavily on the pavement, he buried his head in his hands. God, he was stranded in the middle of nowhere, the deal with Treize was probably off, and Duo was going to leave him.

He was beginning to seriously regret his decision.

End part 3