::disclaimer::

Gundam Wing and all affiliated characters, symbols, etc. belong to Sunrise and the Sotsu Agency. I claim no ownership, and no trademark infringement is intended in the publication of this piece of fiction. The idea for this story was originally conceived by Alexander Sax of the Secret Term, and was adapted for Gundam Wing by me. Please don't come after me, Sax!

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"Hey Duo, are you sure this is going to work? There's a lot more security than our contact mentioned. You up to it?"

The jovial teenager flashed a grin at his counterpart, then surveyed the large building in front of them once more. From his rooftop vantage point, he could see almost everything that was going on inside the thick glass windows.

"Are you kidding, Tro? Shinigami never backs down from a challenge. That's what this'll be," he continued as his gaze traveled over the steel doors and telltale red lights, "a challenge. But nothing I can't handle..."

Trowa turned to look at him and sighed, one green eye showing his fatigue.

"Be serious, Duo. There's more than just money riding on this."

"I know that. But you know you can trust me...when have I ever failed one of these little 'missions', huh?"

The unibanged youth turned his eyes back towards the fortress-like structure, defeated.

"Not one, yet. But be careful. I have a feeling that there's more waiting for us inside than we think."

The braided boy turned to look at him sharply.

"You seen anything?"

"Nothing. But I just have an odd feeling about this entire thing...watch your back in there."

Duo saluted, then checked his watch.

"Time to go," he muttered as he swung himself over the edge. "Wish me luck!"

"Good luck," the remaining youth murmured as his friend disappeared from view. "I hope to the gods you won't need it."

Clothed entirely in black, the God of Death moved silently across the rubbish-strewn street and paused behind a dead bush a short distance away from the office. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated...a moment later, the blinking red lights of the scanners dimmed and the soft whirr of camera gears turning stopped. Duo allowed himself a moment of satisfaction, then crept out of the sickly street lights and into the darkness of the quiet building. After a little tinkering, the lock gave, and the thief edged inside, then closed the thick glass door with a soft click. He hurried away from the lobby, and let the scanners return to full power. The cameras he left in limbo, however; those would prove to be much more of a problem than the microchip sensors. His particular chip signature would have brought all the cops within five miles running; and along with those cops, worse things would come. Shaking off such thoughts for now, Duo moved deeper into the building, intent on his goal: information.

Ever since the War, things had steadily gotten worse. Only a few large countries remained, and ruled with iron fists. Most of the populace was poor; a few rich citizens existed, scattered in handfuls throughout the world, but for the most part Earth had become a place of despair. To keep track of people who kept trying to immigrate to other countries, or to secret places, places of exile that were more like paradise, the microchips had been invented. Every citizen in every remaining country got one at birth; they had been in existence for about seventy years now. Occasionally the poor avoided being chipped, if they were careful, and if they kept the pregnancy secret. The lucky children could escape without setting off the alarms in every building in the world; special sensors had been built into the doors to keep criminals out of business and to keep citizens prisoners. The world had fallen into a terrible state. The dictators of each country made sure that the brutal cycle of poverty continued, and no hope remained for the common man. Well, Duo corrected himself, not all hope.

About 100 years ago, during the last major skirmish of the five surviving countries, the final nuclear weapons were used. They destroyed huge areas, but those places were needed. Almost immediately after the blasts, people began moving in. The sites became slums, and the poor were forced to live in the radiation. Anyone who became pregnant during their time there (there weren't many who did; most became sterile or died before they could give birth to the child) bore an extraordinary child. They weren't 'normal'; the radiation had affected their development, mutated them in some way. For the first eighty years or so, all the children born were horribly disfigured or born dead. But in the past twenty years in the slums, once the chemicals administered to destroy the contamination had done their job, the children born were unlike anything seen before. For the most part, they looked perfectly normal, but the change wasn't in their physical forms. Their minds had evolved, taken to the next level. The gifts given to the children varied; most were along the lines of what could be called 'psychic'. It took a very short time for the government to realize what was happening.

The gifted children could destroy everything they had worked for, could bring the people to revolt, could change the world, they all had decided. Having come to that decision, they immediately came to another one: something must be done about this. A secret branch of the government was formed; the Organization of the Zodiac. OZ's primary goal was to seek out and capture the 'threats'. Once captured, they were to be brought over to their side. Basically, they were to be brainwashed and trained as assassins. If they could not be captured or retrained, they were to be killed. Duo's mission was very simple: OZ was planning something. He had to find out what, when, who, and where, so they could all be far, far away when OZ played their hand.

Returning to the present, the shadow moved quickly down the halls, searching for his objective. He had a feeling he was very close, when, from somewhere on his left, he heard a soft moan. Pulling a long, wicked-looking knife from his side, he tiptoed over to the door and listened. There it was again, low and pained. Duo quickly picked the lock, pocketed his tools and slowly, slowly turned the knob and pushed. He gasped softly at the sight before him: A boy, who looked no older than himself, was sitting in a chair, battered and bruised. His chest was a mass of cuts and scars, and his dark hair was matted with blood. Handcuffed and tied to the chair, he was totally helpless.

"Subject 1129; Heero Yuy," his savior muttered, reading from a chart left on the wall. Tossing it aside, he hurried over to the boy and untied his legs, then manipulated the handcuffs into letting him go. "Come on then, Heero...let's get you outta here...the hell they'd do to you..."

Duo pulled Heero onto his feet, then let the invalid lean on him for support. He was heavier than he looked. "Hurry up, man...I've got a schedule I need to stick to..." With some effort, the braided teen was able to move out into the hallway and picked up his mission again. Should be somewhere around here...ah. That's it. In front of him was a door, fundamentally the same as the others, but far stronger and locked with a keycode.

"Simple enough," he muttered, and brushed his fingertips across the lock. It deactivated with a soft beep, and Duo pushed the door open. "Jackpot."

Inside there was a typical office setting; chair, desk, phone, wastebin. No papers were left sitting on the desk; it was spotless. Duo smirked. He was going to have to do this the hard way. Letting Heero rest against a wall for now, he pulled up a chair and began to type rapidly. It would take a few minutes, even with his 'skills', to break through the defenses. He had to be especially careful on this mission; no warbles, no records of his being there, nothing at all that could be traced. Heero moaned again; he was starting to wake up a little more.

"Just gimme a few more minutes, buddy, then we're outta here," the hacker muttered, not taking his eyes off the screen. The moaning turned into incomprehensible muttering, and Duo thought nothing of it. That is, until he was actually able to understand what was being said.

"...guards...coming up southern corridor...armed...leave...know you're here..."

He sprang up from his chair and stuck his head out into the hallway. Sure enough, he could hear their boots pounding, albeit softly at this distance, on the cold floors.

"Shit!" After making a snap decision, Duo tapped a few more times on the computer, then it went black. He scooped up Heero and slung him across his back, fireman-style, and opened the window. "Thank God for fussy businessmen...they've gotta have windows that open." Duo gave the room one last check, then clambered out of the window and disappeared. He hit the ground running, and sprinted for cover. It happened to be one of the most run-down shacks in the area, but thankfully it was uninhabited. The teen dropped his burden, then leaned against a wall, wheezing.

"Bloody hell..."

"I'd agree that's accurate. You nearly got yourself killed."

The braided boy jumped, then drew his knife as a figure emerged from the shadows. He sighed in relief when he realized who it was.

"It's nice to see you too, Wufei."

The Chinese man snorted and moved into the full light.

"Cops are moving all over the city, Maxwell. We need to get back to base, quickly."

Groaning, Duo slumped against the wall.

"Gimme a second to recover?"

"Sorry, Maxwell, but that's a second we don't have." Suddenly, Heero moved from his place in the corner of the hovel and Wufei had his katana out in a flash. For some reason, he preferred it over more modern weapons. He was as lethal with his sword and limbs than most of the enemy was with guns, so the sword stayed. "Who is this?" he hissed, obviously spooked and annoyed with himself that he hadn't noticed right away.

"His name is Heero Yuy. Beyond that, I have no idea. They were holding him prisoner in there...he's the only reason I got out." Seeing Wufei's raised eyebrow, he explained. "Heero was able to hear guards moving in while I was trying to hack in. I wouldn't have heard them until the were on me. As it was, I had to run my ass off to make it here whole." Once he had finished speaking, the sounds of approaching sirens became audible, and Wufei glanced at Heero.

"We must leave, now. I will carry him; you provide cover. Trowa's already gone."

Nodding, Duo peered out the back window (nothing more than a crude hole cut in the wall, really) and pulled his gun. Knives were more his specialty, a trait he shared with Trowa, but in this instance a gun would be many times more useful. Stealth was no longer much of an issue. Wufei gently hefted the still-groggy Heero, and even to the semi-distracted Duo it was obvious he was 'lightening the load' somewhat.

"Well," he muttered, "if we're getting out of here we gotta do it now. Clear." With that, the three teenagers disappeared into the darkness, echoing footsteps the only sign they had ever existed.

::author's note::

Impossible Gundam here...or now, should I say, Christi Talmer. My split personalities and accounts have merged, so no accusations of plagarism please! I know that things are probably a little vague at this point, but ever since Alex told me about this (there's actually an RPG hosted on ezboard) idea, all I could think of was 'Wow, that would make a great AU fic'. Originally called Project Columbus, I've made a few minor modifications and added some obvious things. So...what do you think? This is my first AU, and I must admit it's a lot of fun. I'm continuing this pretty much no matter what, but I will keep up on 'The Kid' (next part is in progress...it's starting to look like something good!) while writing r.evolution. Please review; you wouldn't believe the rush it gives me to know someone likes my writing. And also...when I know someone likes the way I write, I'm much more likely to write some more. Catch my drift? I think I've rambled on enough for now...see ya on the other side! (Or possibly the internet. The next chapter, maybe. Who knows?)

~Christi