Chapter 7 - Finale

Warnings: bad language, Duo pain and (very little) torture

* * *

"This is crazy."

"Geez. You got any better ideas?"

"Hn." Heero, on his feet (somehow) despite his broken legs, was glaring an entire selection of culinary
knives at Duo, whose primary focus rested on the lock on their cell door.

"Had the feeling you'd say that." Sweat from concentration stood out on Duo's forehead; only 1 more
number to bypass, and he and Heero would be free. Sure, it had taken a good 3 hours to get the first six
numbers, but that wasn't too bad for such a complicated code. He was feeling rather proud of himself for
solving it at all.

Still, Duo's throat was dry, he felt like he had a fever, he could barely move his left arm, his hip throbbed,
his formerly-dislocated knee was protesting movement, it hurt to breathe, and he was coughing up blood.

In other words, Duo felt miserable.

"Heero, you'll be able to run, right?" Duo asked, his tounge poking out of the corner of his mouth as he
narrowed his eyes at the lock. If he nicked these two circuits, maybe they would reroute their voltage to
the key processer, simulating the correct number . . .

"Hn. Of course. What about you?" The question was delivered in the usual monotone - it wasn't voiced
from concern, but from a need to know for the sake of Mission Escape, as Duo had dubbed it.

"What *about* me?" Duo pointedly avoided the question, losing interest in the self-initiated conversation
as he carefully slashed two resistance circuits in the lock with a razor. //Please, oh please let this work . . .
// he begged God as he touched the cut ends together.

The circuits overloaded; the voltage was automatically rewired, following the only path Duo had left it to
follow - the activation key of the 7-digit code. The mutilated lock made a confirmation noise, and the
door to Heero and Duo's cell slid open.

The OZ soldiers guarding the door from the outside were so surprised to see the door slide open all on its
own that even in their injured states, Duo and Heero made quick work of them.

Now both armed with .38 caliber handguns*, the two Gundam pilots snuck off down the hall. Duo
couldn't resist crowing quietly, "I am SO good!" to Heero, who just threw him a 'baka' look and kept
going.

Duo rolled his eyes, following. Geez, didn't Heero have anything even *resembling* a funny bone!?

* * *

"Look at all these tracks," Quatre marveled at the number of tanks and Leos that had seemed to pass
through the area where Deathscythe had exploded. "Trowa, I don't think there's a chance we'll find
anything useful here - especially not Duo and Heero."

Trowa's gundam was lifting heavier pieces of Gundanium and leaning over to allow the pilot inside to
check under them. Dropping one piece that appeared to be what remained of the arm of Duo's gundam,
Trowa stated flatly, "If they're dead, we'll find them here."

Quatre bit his lower lip and said resolutely, "They're both alive. They have to be! Let's just follow the
tracks to the OZ base they're from and look."

He couldn't think they were dead. He wouldn't give up on them so easily . . .

Heavyarms Kai straightened even as Sandrock Kai lifted off the one knee it had been kneeling on. "Since
there is no sign of their bodies, I think that would be an appropriate course of action." Trowa's face was
deadpan on the monitor, even as he flickered away. Heavyarms Kai then began to march in the direction
the tracks led.

Quatre smiled slightly. Trowa had a kind heart; his friend at the circus was helping bring it out. Quatre
hoped his nearly-emotionless partner found happiness for himself soon.

But there was no time to think about that now. Bringing Sandrock up to a slow run, Quatre endeavoured
to catch up with the fast-moving Heavyarms.

* * *

"The Gundam Pilots have escaped!"

The news washed over the OZ base like a wildfire, sending all soldiers - on-duty or not - rushing about,
searching for the two pilots' whereabouts or grabbing up weapons to fight them. By the time Duo and
Heero had reached Level B-1 (they'd been imprisoned on Level B-3, or Basement 3, as it turned out), they
were being passed by soldiers every minute or so, and the place seemed to be in an uproar.

Duo found himself limping behind a resolute Heero, who showed no signs of his injuries other than
suddenly developing a lack of balance. For the third time Duo grabbed Heero by the back of his green
tank top and shoved him roughly into a corner before he could topple into a clamoring group of soldiers
marching by. "If you're gonna fall on your face, can't you find a better time to do it!?" Duo hissed once
the danger had passed. "Be careful!"

Heero ignored Duo and pointed at a sign written entirely in kanji. "We were looking for the supply
room." he stated. "It's this way." Once again he took off, jogging - jogging! - down the hallway, hugging
the walls.

Duo was dumbstruck for a moment, then smirked. "Go figure. Man, I thought *I* was gonna be the hero
for once!**" He trotted after Heero, dislocated kneecap protesting all the way.

* * *

"Trowa, wait. We need to plan." Quatre said earnestly. Inwardly, he thought he might fly to pieces if he
had to wait any longer to rescue his fellow pilots, but he and Trowa would do no good if they just came in
and destroyed the base, quite possibly killing Duo and Heero themselves.

"Understood." Trowa's face didn't change expression, but the Heavyarms Kai came to a halt.

Quatre closed his eyes, thinking quickly. "The key is to rescue Duo and Heero, of course. As much as I
hate to say it, however, if rescue becomes impossible, we will have to kill them." Quatre struggled not to
let his voice crack on this last assertion. "Okay. From what we know of this OZ base, the cells are
underground and in the main complex. Trowa, if you will go into the base to find Duo and Heero, I will
cover you in Sandrock. Obviously, do not hesitate to kill Duo and Heero if you can't save them. Is this
acceptable to you?" Quatre asked finally, requesting approval of his hastily-assembled plan.

"It is acceptable." Trowa's face was still deadpan, but his eyes were on something in his lap. Quatre
heard the *click* of a gun cartridge being loaded.

"Good." Quatre paused to take a calming breath. "Open your cockpit, and I'll carry you into the base. I
may not have a Deathscythe, but I think Sandrock can do some pretty decent stealth as well."

* * *

Trowa calmly stepped into the hand of Quatre's gundam and sat on the palm, carefully loading bullets into
his gun of choice - a .44 Browning.*** Ignoring the lurch of the hand as Sandrock began to walk towards
the OZ base, he contemplated killing Heero and Duo.

He was worried.

It was nothing more than a small niggle of fear, but Trowa knew that he didn't want to kill Heero and Duo
from that fear.

//Killing never bothered me before. Not even killing my partners in war. Because that was all they were -
just partners. Does this mean the other Gundam pilots are my . . . friends?//

This was not the sort of thing to contemplate while knowing you might have to kill them. Frowning
slightly, he loaded the last bullet into his Browning and snapped the cartridge shut.

"Trowa, I'm going to have to break open the wall on the second floor. You'll have to hurry! Take
advantage of the confusion from the wall being destroyed," Quatre advised into the little earplug Trowa
had slid into his ear so he could stay in touch with Quatre. "And good luck!"

Sandrock punched a hole into the wall, and Trowa leapt through, adding a triple twist as he was inclined
to do. Landing cleanly, he ran past several shocked OZ soldiers, looking for a way to get down to the
basement levels.

* * *

The supply room, much to Heero's surprise, was unlocked. He set his teeth and eyed the partially ajar
door suspciously. Duo huffed up behind him, panting for breath. He coughed violently, and when he took
his hand away from his mouth, it was bloody.

"The door is unlocked," Heero told Duo calmly, ignoring the sharp pangs of pain from his own legs and
the blood Duo was coughing up. If he had permitted himself, Heero would have been limping. "Doesn't
that seem a little odd to you?"

Duo smiled and replied between breaths, "Sure. But what else are we going to do, especially considering
that I can hear OZ soldiers coming down the hall now?"

Heero cocked his head slightly and listened. Sure enough, the sound of several pounding feet reached his
ears. "Let's go," he said calmly, entering the supply room and shutting its door behind Duo. Duo did his
best to stifle his quick, heavy breaths as the OZ soldiers pounded by outside, and after a moment the
danger had passed.

"Great!" Duo wheezed, grinning like the idiot he was. "Now all we gotta do is get some flares so Trowa
and Quatre can find us." Duo immediately began to slide his fingers along the numerous boxes in the
huge room, apparently reading their labels in the dimness.

Heero almost began to tell him to watch his back, but something - it sounded suspiciously like Dr. J - kept
him from showing concern. //He's doing it again! How does Duo make me worry?// Heero thought darkly
before turning to begin his own search.

He turned right into the barrel of a gun.

Startled, Heero raised a leg in a reflex Jujitsu motion, attempting to disarm whoever was holding the gun
in his face. However, his broken leg forbade him cooperation and he collapsed uncerimoniously,
struggling with a burst of blinding pain.

The weilder of the offending gun stepped into sight, smiling slightly. "Don't try anything, Gundam Pilot
01. I will be just as happy to end your life now as later." The man - an OZ officer - towered over the
fallen Heero, eyes cold with hatred.

"Then go ahead." Heero monotoned. He recalled, vaugely, placing a gun to his own head after one
particular mission. Only the acceptance of a new mission had stopped him from pulling the trigger.

The OZ officer smirked and leaned down to drag Heero to his feet. "No. I have better uses for you . . . "

* * *

Duo wandered around the storeroom, his head throbbing and feeling vaugely confused. He couldn't even
read many of the kanji inscriptions on the boxes; even the ones he could read were labeled incorrectly.
With a sigh of frustration, Duo turned the corner around a shelf of old mortar shells.

He came face to face with a nightmare.

Heero was walking with his hands in the air. A gun, barely visible in the dim supply room, was pressed
against his neck, and at arm's length behind him walked an OZ officer.

The officer was Harrings. Duo made a growling noise and lifted his gun.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Harrings smirked, pressing the gun a little more firmly into the soft
skin of Heero's neck. "I told you I wanted to see you suffer, right?" Stepping up so he was next to Heero,
but still at arm's length, he jerked his head in Heero's direction. "This is the one you seem so eager to
protect, no?"

Duo grit his teeth and tried to communicate to Heero with his eyes. Heero, however, seemed introspective
and unaware. //Great time to finally become self-aware, Heero!// Duo thought darkly, feeling panic creep
in. Why wasn't Heero trying to escape? //Maybe he . . . wants to die?// "What do you want, you mother-
f***ing son of a --"

"Tsk tsk, such language," Harrings shook his head, blue eyes never swerving off of Duo. "What I want is
for you to watch your best friend die. To suffer the pain of loss." Harrings smiled cruelly, reveling in the
glory of the moment. "To know how I felt because of you."

Duo slumped his shoulders, looking skeptical even as he shoved down rising terror. "What the hell are
you talking about?"

"You killed my brother, Gundam Pilot 02! Do you know how painful it is to lose your own family!? I
want you to know what I felt, before you die, too!" The maniacal gleam in Harrings' eyes was frightening.
"I want you to taste the death of a friend!"

Duo gave him a baleful look and laughed derisively. "'Taste Death'? I *am* Death!"

Harrings snarled at him, but a spark of fear flickered in his eyes for an instant.

Duo hoisted his gun, his mind too exhausted and sick of this crazy adventure to be struck by the
melodrama of Harrings' announcement, and his concern for Heero's life too great to care. "If you miss
your brother that much," Duo asked scathingly, "Why don't you join him in Hell!?"

He squeezed the trigger.

Harrings' body slumped to the ground, a hole in his forehead and his brain splattered over a remarkably
large area behind him.

But his trigger finger convulsed. The gun in Harrings' lifeless hand went off. "NOOO!" Duo choked,
shocked as he saw a spatter of blood arise on the wall next to Heero . . .

* * *

Quatre whipped his scimitars through two Leos and turned away as they exploded in balls of flame. He
was amazed by the speed with which the base had deployed its defenses; however, it was all the better to
Quatre, whose job was to create as much ruckus as possible in order that the focus of the base personnel
wouldn't rest on Trowa, Duo, and Heero.

Trowa's voice crackled through their mike connection. "I'm on the B-1 floor now, Quatre. This area is
suspiciously devoid of soldiers. Also, I have confirmation that both pilots were brought to this base alive."

Quatre didn't bother questioning Trowa in favor of crying "Yokatta!" as loudly as he could in his joy.
"Find them, Trowa! We've got to get them out of here before that status changes . . . "

* * *

The gun in Harrings' lifeless hand went off. "NOOO!" Duo choked, shocked as he saw a spatter of blood
arise on the wall next to Heero . . .

And the Perfect Soldier remained standing, hand clasped to his neck.

Duo gaped at Heero. "Y-you really *aren't* human, are you!?"

Heero gave Duo a 'baka' look again. "Didn't you realize the hand would convulse? I knocked the gun
aside at the last possible moment when I saw you pull the trigger. The bullet only grazed my neck."

Duo slumped in relief. "Thank goodness . . . "

"You're not out of the woods just yet," came a voice from over Heero's shoulder. The Shinigami and the
Perfect Soldier whirled, straining to see who the intruder was as they lifted their guns.

The deep-voiced intruder stepped into the dim light.

Zechs Marquiese. And about twenty OZ soldiers, all carrying guns trained on the two pilots.

"Aw shit." Duo dropped his gun, as did Heero, and raised his hands in the air. "All this trouble for
nothing . . . "

Zechs smiled faintly, and Duo had the distinct feeling he was being laughed at.

"You both put up an impressive fight," Zechs remarked idly, making no move to take them back into
custody. "I am fascinated by you Gundam pilots - young men willing to give up so much for their cause . .
. " he trailed off, placing his chin in his hand. "What could inspire anyone to such heroism?"

Duo was about to reply with a decidedly foul-mouthed retort when Heero abruptly spoke up. "We fight
according to our emotions and our beliefs. The strength of our belief determines how well we fight."

Duo felt his jaw drop open.

Heero ignored him. "It is not heroism; we are killers. But we kill because of what we know to be true,"
he continued calmly.

Zechs smiled another gentle smile, this time as if in approval. "I see," he said quietly, appreciatively.
"Unfortunately, your beliefs conflict quite strongly with OZ's," he continued in a louder voice. "I am
forced to take you into custody again. Private, would you - "

"Stop."

Duo gaped again as yet *another* intruder entered the circle, his gun trained on Zechs' chest. His long
brown bangs covered one green eye as he looked over the gathering in the semi-dark of the supply room.
"Trowa," Duo sighed, partially with relief and partially with disbelief. "You made it . . . "

"We did," Trowa agreed, with a nod to Duo. Then his green eye flickered up to Zechs. "Sir, have your
soldiers put down their guns unless you wish to die."

Duo's gaze flew to Zechs, who had lifted his hands into the air. He was smiling still; he seemed so
disgustingly *pleased* by the situation. "I see," he said again. "Very well. Men, lay down your arms," he
directed.

The soldiers obeyed wordlessly, backing up several feet as they did so until they were once again obscured
in shadow.

This set Duo's teeth on edge. "Hey, make them come out again!" Duo hissed. "We can't be sure what
they're up to in the shadows -"

"Don't worry, they've retreated," replied the Lieutenant, unflustered by the gun at his back. "This seems
rather unfair - three to one, I mean."

Duo bent down to pick up his gun while Trowa checked Zechs for weapons and Heero set the saftey on his
own. "Yeah? Well, try telling me that twenty to two is fair," Duo retorted. "Wasn't that the situation we
were in a minute ago?"

Zechs laughed again. "So you were." He half-turned as if to see Trowa; the 'clown' turned with him,
obscuring his face with his bangs and the dim light.

"My face is not for your eyes," Trowa said quietly. "Give me your word you will not call for help or try to
hurt us, and I will take this gun off you."

"You have my word."

Trowa nodded once and holstered his gun at his side. "Take us to the roof."

"Certainly," Zechs agreed as if agreeing to take them to a parlor for tea. Duo wrapped his fingers more
tightly around his own gun; *he* didn't trust Zechs any farther than he could throw him. Limping
alongside Heero, he coughed up some more blood and smiled. It looked like this crazy adventure was
finally drawing to a close.

* * *

Quatre surveyed the destrution he had caused and winced; it made him sad to see the death he and
Sandrock Kai produced. How sad that the Gundams should be designed only for mass destruction . . .

"Quatre, we're on the roof of the main complex," Trowa's voice crackled over the radio. "Heero and Duo
are hurt, but alive. We'll need to get in your cockpit."

Quatre's heart nearly burst from the release of pent-up anxiety. "Thank Allah! I see you," he added,
getting a visual of Heero, Duo, and Trowa all standing on the roof with . . . Zechs Marquiese!? "Trowa,
why -?"

"We'll explain later," Heero's voice cut in. "That is unimportant. We must leave as soon as possible."

"Of course." Quatre nodded and extended the hand of his gundam towards the foursome. Trowa helped
Heero onto the hand as Quatre watched, then climbed on himself, holding Heero in place. Quatre moved
the hand up to the cockpit and opened the door; climbing out of the seat, he helped Heero, who seemed a
bit off-balance, to sit down next to the cockpit seat. Trowa stayed on the hand, which Quatre began to
lower again -

"DUO!" Quatre shouted.

Zechs was holding Duo by twisting his left arm up behind his back. Duo's eyes were screwed shut, his
face a mask of pain. Zechs smiled slightly and shouted, "I did not promise to not take any of you into
custody!"

Quatre screamed as Zechs began to drag Duo to the door onto the roof.

* * *

"I thought you were all about honor!" Duo protested, struggling while his fractured arm and crushed wrist
gave him hell about their position against his back.

Zechs nodded. "I believe in honor, but I also believe in ideals," he explained calmly. "If I am captured by
the Gundam pilots, I cannot protect those ideals."

"Man, you are vain," Duo growled. "You think we have the time to capture someone like you -" he was
cut off when a poor twist in his struggles sent him into excruciating pain.

"I cannot risk it," Zechs answered, almost sadly.

Duo saw red. It was bad enough when his enemy taunted him; this pretend chivalry was even worse!
"Leggo!" he screamed, lifting his heel behind him.

He struck gold. Zechs' grip weakened as Duo kicked the family jewels. Duo slid out of the hold and let
his left arm go slack and useless, breathing hard. "*That's* what I think of your ideals," he snarled.

Zechs eyed Duo during their short standoff . . . then smiled yet again. "I have underestimated you, Duo
Maxwell," he said. "Well. I have learned much. Until we meet again . . . " the Lieutenant ducked into
the door to the roof.

Duo felt like he'd just built up to a huge climax only to have someone pull the rug out from under him.

"Duo! Duo! Are you okay!?" Quatre's shouts of desperation reached Duo's ears, and he turned to face the
blond-haired pilot.

It was over . . .

Duo smirked, the corner of his mouth turning upwards and his violet eyes narrowing with mirth and
mischief. "'Okay'?" he repeated, shaking his head in reproach. "Hell, Quatre. We're great. We
*survived*."

Quatre smiled, his oversized blue eyes shutting as he did so. "Yokatta ne!"

Duo smiled back . . . and slumped forward, the adrenaline he'd been runing on for the past 3 days
draining out of him. "Yeah . . . 'Thank God' is right . . . "

And Duo fell into a much-deserved, deep sleep.

* * *

* These handguns have a pretty impressive kick! I wonder if it would even be possible for someone who
had a broken bone to shoot it accurately . . .

** No pun intended, I swear it.

*** These guns, I have heard, have a good balance and grip, and are also rather bloody things. ^__^
Trowa's gun, much like Duo's .45 magnum from earlier, can create large holes in the body. In case you're
wondering, Heero carries a .38 caliber like the ones issued to the soldiers, and Quatre carries a .22 pistol.
.22's aren't nearly as . . . destructive . . . as the selections of the other pilots.

baka - idiot
yokatta, yokatta ne - an exclaimation of joy, like 'thank goodness'. I use it as 'Thank God' here.

Well, you've seen my (pathetic and long) climax now! Isn't it ridiculous!? I couldn't get too dramatic for
Duo because he's already had the crap beaten out of him, so I made up for excitement with length . . . ugh.
Sorry!

One more section to go . . .