Mission Nuclear: Chapter 2
When Duo arrived in the shuttle launch bay fifty minutes later, accompanied by an overly large duffel bag and a fashionably late Lady Une, he saw that the others were already there. And they were dressed in white. As he entered, Quatre raised an eyebrow questioningly but obviously decided to let the unasked question slip. For this, Duo was thankful. His choice of clothes and his reasons for said choice were touchy at the best of times and Duo definitely didn't call the beginning of a nuclear war the best of times. He grinned and walked nonchalantly towards them, swinging his duffel bag behind him and inadvertently hitting lady Une in the stomach.
The shuttle was one of the new makes. Overly sleek and showy, especially considering the large golden 'P' ringed by concentric circles. From a distance, the symbol of the Preventers looked disturbingly like a target. True, the war was over but some habits die hard. Because of this new-found dislike for large targets, he missed the last-minute briefing Lady Une was giving the other pilots, only catching onto the end.
"-the Minister contacted me ten minutes ago. He reports that the rebels have declared war on the Arabian government. Your mission objectives have changed. Not only are you to find and destroy any nuclear factory, you are to prevent this from rising into a full scale war. Use whatever means necessary."
There was no doubting what she meant by that. Duo sighed and shook his head. The war may have ended but there were always jobs for the odd soldier or two. A single bullet to the head here, a threat and a bribe over there and you had peace again. He smiled grimly as he watched Quatre frown. He almost felt sorry for the boy. He was too emotionally attached to both the country and the people for his own good, which couldn't be good. One or the other would betray him eventually.
Duo absently fingered the revolver hidden beneath his clothes as he boarded the shuttle. _How does that saying go?_
Only two things in this life are certain: death and taxes.
He certainly had his fair share of the latter, not to mention the constant payments he had to fork out for Quatre's mansion whenever he broke one of the priceless vases or the porcelain tea sets. So that left death and there was no way he was going down that road yet. He was too young and, dare he think it, too intelligent. If all else failed at least his revolver would have something to say about the matter. Death is inevitable, even for Shinigami.especially for Shinigami.
Duo shook his head to clear his mind of such morbid thoughts as he sat down in his allotted seat and belted himself in. He never usually bothered with a seatbelt but Quatre always insisted and Duo always ended up giving in to the blond. He wasn't sure how or why, but he could never win an argument against the Arabian. And Duo certainly didn't want to get on Quatre's nerves right now. The lecture he had given Duo after he had hacked into the computer main frame could have rivalled one of Wufei's in sheer anger but the Arabian had an extra weapon Wufei didn't: erudite language. Duo hadn't even known the meaning of several words, and his trying to figure them out had resulted in a glazed look on his part which only earned him another talk about paying attention. Duo smirked as he remembered the astonished look on his fellow pilots' faces when confronted with this new, and terrifying, side of Quatre.
They had all changed since the war, some for the better, some for the worse. The first few weeks after the war, during which the Earth Sphere and the colonies floundered in confusion, had been spent feeling useless. Duo had been relieved when Wufei had approached him and asked him to join the Preventers. Gradually, over the space of a couple of months, he had managed to persuade all of the pilots into the organisation. According to Wufei, it had been a nightmare trying to find Heero and Trowa; both had effectively vanished into thin air. Quatre had been the last to join. It hadn't been hard convincing him to put the company aside for a while.they just couldn't get hold of him. All their calls had been met with, "I'm sorry, Mr Winner isn't available right now," or "He's in a very important meeting." Eventually Trowa, getting sick of it, had simply kicked the door down and waltzed inside.
The other pilots had noticed the change in Quatre almost immediately. Although still friendly and fun to be with, he was a little less out-going than they remembered and he laughed less often, although when he did laugh he positively radiated joy. He met all requests with the same enthusiasm and determination as always but none of them had failed to notice the calculating looks that would appear during a mission briefing nor the often colourful language that flowed in perfect Arabic. Duo had often wished he could learn Arabic so as to be able to talk with the Maguanacs, who still loyally followed Quatre around, in their own language. But the shocked looks on the bodyguards' faces during some of Quatre's more.healthy. debates had been priceless, and he dearly wished he knew what the slight Arabian had been saying. Duo firmly believed in one's right to free speech, especially if said speech happened to be particularly expressive.
Duo's eyebrows retreated into his hairline when the shuttle let out an unhealthy splutter and staggered forwards at a disturbingly slow pace towards the hangar doors. He hastily cast a surreptitious glance around the interior of the shuttle to verify that no one was looking, then swiftly checked that his belt was secure. It couldn't hurt to be careful.especially with a reckless pilot like this one controlling the shuttle. Only just part the cadet stage.young, enthusiastic.and no experience whatsoever. Why the ex-gundam pilots couldn't simply fly the shuttle themselves was beyond him, though he suspected it had something to do with remaining inconspicuous. He didn't doubt that if _he_ was flying this thing, they'd be out the hangar doors and well on their way by now. So what if said departure hadn't been through _open_ doors and the technicians making final checks were left seated on the floor with puzzled expressions and angry officials demanding to know what had transpired.Duo winced. Maybe, on second thoughts, it was a good thing he wasn't flying the shuttle.
He sat back, blissfully thankful for the air conditioning, and watched the other four pilots through lowered eyelids. He had learnt the art of spying at a young age and, during the war, prying into other people's lives hadn't been a huge leap to take. It hadn't taken him long to realise that his fellow ex-pilots were very pleasing subjects.
Heero sat erect and silent. _No change there_ The Japanese teenager's eyes were currently boring a hole into the wall opposite, as if the force of his glare alone could rip down the door separating them from the cockpit and destroy the thoughtless pilot inside. Duo smiled minutely and moved on, beginning to tap a tune out on the side of his seat.
Trowa sat across from him, face as expressionless as usual, but his eyes were oddly attentive. Frowning minutely, Duo followed that intense stare and had to suppress a ridiculous urge to grin like a buffoon when he saw the subject. Next to Duo sat Quatre, and every ounce of Trowa's attention was currently riveted on the oblivious blond.
Duo grinned like a madman. _Oh, this is gonna be good_ Any further thoughts along that particular track, however, were firmly discouraged if not abandoned when he received a hefty wack over the head from his other side. Duo yelped and spun in his chair to face an irate Wufei. The Chinese teenager was glaring daggers to rival Heero's and Duo imagined he could see steam pouring out of his ears. Briefly, he entertained the image of Wufei dancing on a table whilst belting out "I'm a little teapot" at the top of his lungs, but his thoughts were once again interrupted by the Asian who remained ignorant to the smirk that had materialised on the American's face.
"Shut it, Maxwell! It's bad enough I have to endure a five-hour [1] flight with an incompetent pilot leading us to our deaths but I will not suffer the torture of a dishonourable death because you wished to enlighten us to the finer points of rhythm!"
The outburst had caught the attention of everyone in the shuttle and now four sets of eyes, one enraged, two passive and the last amused, regarded him. Duo snatched his hand off the armrest and folded it behind his back. He frowned at Wufei who glared right back at him and the next twenty minutes was spent in complete silence whilst Duo and Wufei attempted to drill through each others' foreheads, Heero had another go at the wall and Trowa continued to watch Quatre who was still looking out of the window.
Twenty minutes later, the situation reached a stalemate. Duo and Wufei had glared each other into their respective corners where Duo continued to sulk. A glance across the shuttle, however, alleviated all feelings of annoyance. Duo grinned. Trowa had spent the entire twenty minutes immersed in his scrutiny of the blond. He smirked. _Yeah, this is gonna be one hell of a mission._ * * *
Trowa had never been the sort of person who became unsettled easily but the look Duo was currently sending his way was enough to make him feel more than a little uncomfortable. He'd long since learnt with the mercenaries that silence was the best option; showing emotions wasn't a good idea. Nevertheless, since the war had begun and he'd found himself floundering in an unfathomable political sea of mistrust and weaknesses, his views had changed drastically.
Quatre was the one most responsible for the change; he'd laid himself bare for Trowa to see, trusted him. He had shown Trowa that it was all right to feel emotions, even if he still wished to hide them. The others had played a vital role too though. Heero had given him a tried and tested piece of advice that he still valued to this day: Follow your emotions. And he had.to a certain extent. Certainly, after the ZERO episode with Quatre, he'd trusted them and followed them all the way back to Quatre. He'd never been so glad that he'd done anything in his entire life.
However, now that the war was over, he seemed unable to follow that advice any further. The last two years had been wonderful for him. He was living and working with the only people he'd ever be able to call friends and for the first time in his life he felt as if he had a purpose other than mindless killing. It was true that the Preventers _did_ kill, but at least the eventual goal of peace was achieved without massacres. Despite that, when all was said and done, it was still him who had to pull the trigger.
Even so, he'd thoroughly enjoyed his last two years as a Preventer. Missions of this scale were few and far between but essential when utilised. They had been well-constructed and organised, designed specifically to avoid needless casualties or destruction.
Trowa strongly suspected that Quatre had a hand in that.
Officially, the blond took orders from Lady Une but Trowa had always imagined that he had a far stronger influence on the command of the Preventers than anyone could guess. Certainly, the other ex-pilots waited for Quatre's confirmation of Une's orders before carrying them through and he was relatively confident that others involved in their missions did the same. Within the Preventers, Quatre was well-known as the brilliant strategist of their five-strong unit; calm and calculating in battle and able to change the plans at the drop of a hat.
They all had their reputations. Heero was the best soldier and pilot of the group, well-respected amongst the troops. _Quite wisely too, considering the number of people he's put into hospital_. Heero was viewed as some sort of an obsessive kamikaze and, as such, was avoided assiduously.
Duo was the insanely happy, cheerful guy of the group. Always fooling around and being in the way, his skills with computers were often considered a menace. Trowa had lost count of the number of times that he's been innocently hacking into a random military complex when an anguished cry would break out across the hallway, followed by maniacal laughter and an enraged bellow of, "DUO!!!!!!".
Trowa wasn't sure of what was thought of him but he was pretty sure he was to be avoided. The number of young cadets who had suddenly remembered some vitally important job at the far end of the complex whenever he was nearby, was testimony to that.
Wufei was seen as the oddball of the group, something Trowa was sure the Chinese teen wouldn't appreciate if he knew, and Trowa wasn't telling. His rants about justice and worthiness had left more than a few in confusion and even a rare few had taken to deeming themselves 'unworthy' of 'honours' such as serving lunch or cleaning the toilets.
Trowa allowed a tiny smile to twitch his lips upwards. _And despite our differences, maybe because of them, we're a perfect team_ He turned to watch Quatre again. Even if Duo was onto him, the subject of his unwavering gaze still remained unaware.
The daylight was failing now, casting rays of rosy hues across the great Arabian desert. The colours merged before the eye and created the illusion of pure gold as far as the eye could see. Quatre sat by the window, still gazing out, his body framed by a nimbus of liquid light. Golden bangs dripped over crystal eyes, casting half of his face into shadows. The resulting effect, quite simply, left Trowa breathless. Framed by light, Quatre looked as if he were softly glowing. To Trowa, he looked ethereal and utterly beautiful.
The scene was abruptly broken as the blond shifted, sending the rays of light spilling onto the floor. Quatre's gaze swept the shuttle, suddenly intense and unwavering. As the slight Arabian's gaze swept over him, Trowa received the unshakeable feeling that something was imminently wrong. The other pilots had noticed something was amiss too now, and they regarded Quatre, waiting for him to say what he was feeling.
After a few seconds, Quatre's eyes widened perceptibly and swivelled to fix themselves, unflinching, on the door to the cock pit.
"No!"
Abruptly, his fingers moved to the belt at his waist, moving to unbuckle the leather strap. Trowa automatically copied Quatre's movements, trusting Quatre's instincts and empathy as much as his own. He knew that the others did the same.
All of this happened in just a few seconds, and in a few more seconds, it was over.
Trowa stopped and listened in the sudden silence. There was something that had changed, something important, but he couldn't quite place it.
_The silence._
With dawning horror, Trowa realised just what that thing was. He stood stupefied before the gravity of the situation sank in. He was conscious of only one thought, emblazoned across his mind in fire.
_The loudest sound of all is the silence of a plane's engines_
Tbc...
[1] I have absolutely no idea how long a flight of this undertaking would take. Even if I had any idea of how long it takes today, I'm sure it would have changed. Maybe I missed something but I'm just saying five cos I like the number. *shrugs*
A/N Sorry for taking so long. Yes, I am still alive and still writing this. The plot is set out, mostly, and I just need to write it. Sorry again.
When Duo arrived in the shuttle launch bay fifty minutes later, accompanied by an overly large duffel bag and a fashionably late Lady Une, he saw that the others were already there. And they were dressed in white. As he entered, Quatre raised an eyebrow questioningly but obviously decided to let the unasked question slip. For this, Duo was thankful. His choice of clothes and his reasons for said choice were touchy at the best of times and Duo definitely didn't call the beginning of a nuclear war the best of times. He grinned and walked nonchalantly towards them, swinging his duffel bag behind him and inadvertently hitting lady Une in the stomach.
The shuttle was one of the new makes. Overly sleek and showy, especially considering the large golden 'P' ringed by concentric circles. From a distance, the symbol of the Preventers looked disturbingly like a target. True, the war was over but some habits die hard. Because of this new-found dislike for large targets, he missed the last-minute briefing Lady Une was giving the other pilots, only catching onto the end.
"-the Minister contacted me ten minutes ago. He reports that the rebels have declared war on the Arabian government. Your mission objectives have changed. Not only are you to find and destroy any nuclear factory, you are to prevent this from rising into a full scale war. Use whatever means necessary."
There was no doubting what she meant by that. Duo sighed and shook his head. The war may have ended but there were always jobs for the odd soldier or two. A single bullet to the head here, a threat and a bribe over there and you had peace again. He smiled grimly as he watched Quatre frown. He almost felt sorry for the boy. He was too emotionally attached to both the country and the people for his own good, which couldn't be good. One or the other would betray him eventually.
Duo absently fingered the revolver hidden beneath his clothes as he boarded the shuttle. _How does that saying go?_
Only two things in this life are certain: death and taxes.
He certainly had his fair share of the latter, not to mention the constant payments he had to fork out for Quatre's mansion whenever he broke one of the priceless vases or the porcelain tea sets. So that left death and there was no way he was going down that road yet. He was too young and, dare he think it, too intelligent. If all else failed at least his revolver would have something to say about the matter. Death is inevitable, even for Shinigami.especially for Shinigami.
Duo shook his head to clear his mind of such morbid thoughts as he sat down in his allotted seat and belted himself in. He never usually bothered with a seatbelt but Quatre always insisted and Duo always ended up giving in to the blond. He wasn't sure how or why, but he could never win an argument against the Arabian. And Duo certainly didn't want to get on Quatre's nerves right now. The lecture he had given Duo after he had hacked into the computer main frame could have rivalled one of Wufei's in sheer anger but the Arabian had an extra weapon Wufei didn't: erudite language. Duo hadn't even known the meaning of several words, and his trying to figure them out had resulted in a glazed look on his part which only earned him another talk about paying attention. Duo smirked as he remembered the astonished look on his fellow pilots' faces when confronted with this new, and terrifying, side of Quatre.
They had all changed since the war, some for the better, some for the worse. The first few weeks after the war, during which the Earth Sphere and the colonies floundered in confusion, had been spent feeling useless. Duo had been relieved when Wufei had approached him and asked him to join the Preventers. Gradually, over the space of a couple of months, he had managed to persuade all of the pilots into the organisation. According to Wufei, it had been a nightmare trying to find Heero and Trowa; both had effectively vanished into thin air. Quatre had been the last to join. It hadn't been hard convincing him to put the company aside for a while.they just couldn't get hold of him. All their calls had been met with, "I'm sorry, Mr Winner isn't available right now," or "He's in a very important meeting." Eventually Trowa, getting sick of it, had simply kicked the door down and waltzed inside.
The other pilots had noticed the change in Quatre almost immediately. Although still friendly and fun to be with, he was a little less out-going than they remembered and he laughed less often, although when he did laugh he positively radiated joy. He met all requests with the same enthusiasm and determination as always but none of them had failed to notice the calculating looks that would appear during a mission briefing nor the often colourful language that flowed in perfect Arabic. Duo had often wished he could learn Arabic so as to be able to talk with the Maguanacs, who still loyally followed Quatre around, in their own language. But the shocked looks on the bodyguards' faces during some of Quatre's more.healthy. debates had been priceless, and he dearly wished he knew what the slight Arabian had been saying. Duo firmly believed in one's right to free speech, especially if said speech happened to be particularly expressive.
Duo's eyebrows retreated into his hairline when the shuttle let out an unhealthy splutter and staggered forwards at a disturbingly slow pace towards the hangar doors. He hastily cast a surreptitious glance around the interior of the shuttle to verify that no one was looking, then swiftly checked that his belt was secure. It couldn't hurt to be careful.especially with a reckless pilot like this one controlling the shuttle. Only just part the cadet stage.young, enthusiastic.and no experience whatsoever. Why the ex-gundam pilots couldn't simply fly the shuttle themselves was beyond him, though he suspected it had something to do with remaining inconspicuous. He didn't doubt that if _he_ was flying this thing, they'd be out the hangar doors and well on their way by now. So what if said departure hadn't been through _open_ doors and the technicians making final checks were left seated on the floor with puzzled expressions and angry officials demanding to know what had transpired.Duo winced. Maybe, on second thoughts, it was a good thing he wasn't flying the shuttle.
He sat back, blissfully thankful for the air conditioning, and watched the other four pilots through lowered eyelids. He had learnt the art of spying at a young age and, during the war, prying into other people's lives hadn't been a huge leap to take. It hadn't taken him long to realise that his fellow ex-pilots were very pleasing subjects.
Heero sat erect and silent. _No change there_ The Japanese teenager's eyes were currently boring a hole into the wall opposite, as if the force of his glare alone could rip down the door separating them from the cockpit and destroy the thoughtless pilot inside. Duo smiled minutely and moved on, beginning to tap a tune out on the side of his seat.
Trowa sat across from him, face as expressionless as usual, but his eyes were oddly attentive. Frowning minutely, Duo followed that intense stare and had to suppress a ridiculous urge to grin like a buffoon when he saw the subject. Next to Duo sat Quatre, and every ounce of Trowa's attention was currently riveted on the oblivious blond.
Duo grinned like a madman. _Oh, this is gonna be good_ Any further thoughts along that particular track, however, were firmly discouraged if not abandoned when he received a hefty wack over the head from his other side. Duo yelped and spun in his chair to face an irate Wufei. The Chinese teenager was glaring daggers to rival Heero's and Duo imagined he could see steam pouring out of his ears. Briefly, he entertained the image of Wufei dancing on a table whilst belting out "I'm a little teapot" at the top of his lungs, but his thoughts were once again interrupted by the Asian who remained ignorant to the smirk that had materialised on the American's face.
"Shut it, Maxwell! It's bad enough I have to endure a five-hour [1] flight with an incompetent pilot leading us to our deaths but I will not suffer the torture of a dishonourable death because you wished to enlighten us to the finer points of rhythm!"
The outburst had caught the attention of everyone in the shuttle and now four sets of eyes, one enraged, two passive and the last amused, regarded him. Duo snatched his hand off the armrest and folded it behind his back. He frowned at Wufei who glared right back at him and the next twenty minutes was spent in complete silence whilst Duo and Wufei attempted to drill through each others' foreheads, Heero had another go at the wall and Trowa continued to watch Quatre who was still looking out of the window.
Twenty minutes later, the situation reached a stalemate. Duo and Wufei had glared each other into their respective corners where Duo continued to sulk. A glance across the shuttle, however, alleviated all feelings of annoyance. Duo grinned. Trowa had spent the entire twenty minutes immersed in his scrutiny of the blond. He smirked. _Yeah, this is gonna be one hell of a mission._ * * *
Trowa had never been the sort of person who became unsettled easily but the look Duo was currently sending his way was enough to make him feel more than a little uncomfortable. He'd long since learnt with the mercenaries that silence was the best option; showing emotions wasn't a good idea. Nevertheless, since the war had begun and he'd found himself floundering in an unfathomable political sea of mistrust and weaknesses, his views had changed drastically.
Quatre was the one most responsible for the change; he'd laid himself bare for Trowa to see, trusted him. He had shown Trowa that it was all right to feel emotions, even if he still wished to hide them. The others had played a vital role too though. Heero had given him a tried and tested piece of advice that he still valued to this day: Follow your emotions. And he had.to a certain extent. Certainly, after the ZERO episode with Quatre, he'd trusted them and followed them all the way back to Quatre. He'd never been so glad that he'd done anything in his entire life.
However, now that the war was over, he seemed unable to follow that advice any further. The last two years had been wonderful for him. He was living and working with the only people he'd ever be able to call friends and for the first time in his life he felt as if he had a purpose other than mindless killing. It was true that the Preventers _did_ kill, but at least the eventual goal of peace was achieved without massacres. Despite that, when all was said and done, it was still him who had to pull the trigger.
Even so, he'd thoroughly enjoyed his last two years as a Preventer. Missions of this scale were few and far between but essential when utilised. They had been well-constructed and organised, designed specifically to avoid needless casualties or destruction.
Trowa strongly suspected that Quatre had a hand in that.
Officially, the blond took orders from Lady Une but Trowa had always imagined that he had a far stronger influence on the command of the Preventers than anyone could guess. Certainly, the other ex-pilots waited for Quatre's confirmation of Une's orders before carrying them through and he was relatively confident that others involved in their missions did the same. Within the Preventers, Quatre was well-known as the brilliant strategist of their five-strong unit; calm and calculating in battle and able to change the plans at the drop of a hat.
They all had their reputations. Heero was the best soldier and pilot of the group, well-respected amongst the troops. _Quite wisely too, considering the number of people he's put into hospital_. Heero was viewed as some sort of an obsessive kamikaze and, as such, was avoided assiduously.
Duo was the insanely happy, cheerful guy of the group. Always fooling around and being in the way, his skills with computers were often considered a menace. Trowa had lost count of the number of times that he's been innocently hacking into a random military complex when an anguished cry would break out across the hallway, followed by maniacal laughter and an enraged bellow of, "DUO!!!!!!".
Trowa wasn't sure of what was thought of him but he was pretty sure he was to be avoided. The number of young cadets who had suddenly remembered some vitally important job at the far end of the complex whenever he was nearby, was testimony to that.
Wufei was seen as the oddball of the group, something Trowa was sure the Chinese teen wouldn't appreciate if he knew, and Trowa wasn't telling. His rants about justice and worthiness had left more than a few in confusion and even a rare few had taken to deeming themselves 'unworthy' of 'honours' such as serving lunch or cleaning the toilets.
Trowa allowed a tiny smile to twitch his lips upwards. _And despite our differences, maybe because of them, we're a perfect team_ He turned to watch Quatre again. Even if Duo was onto him, the subject of his unwavering gaze still remained unaware.
The daylight was failing now, casting rays of rosy hues across the great Arabian desert. The colours merged before the eye and created the illusion of pure gold as far as the eye could see. Quatre sat by the window, still gazing out, his body framed by a nimbus of liquid light. Golden bangs dripped over crystal eyes, casting half of his face into shadows. The resulting effect, quite simply, left Trowa breathless. Framed by light, Quatre looked as if he were softly glowing. To Trowa, he looked ethereal and utterly beautiful.
The scene was abruptly broken as the blond shifted, sending the rays of light spilling onto the floor. Quatre's gaze swept the shuttle, suddenly intense and unwavering. As the slight Arabian's gaze swept over him, Trowa received the unshakeable feeling that something was imminently wrong. The other pilots had noticed something was amiss too now, and they regarded Quatre, waiting for him to say what he was feeling.
After a few seconds, Quatre's eyes widened perceptibly and swivelled to fix themselves, unflinching, on the door to the cock pit.
"No!"
Abruptly, his fingers moved to the belt at his waist, moving to unbuckle the leather strap. Trowa automatically copied Quatre's movements, trusting Quatre's instincts and empathy as much as his own. He knew that the others did the same.
All of this happened in just a few seconds, and in a few more seconds, it was over.
Trowa stopped and listened in the sudden silence. There was something that had changed, something important, but he couldn't quite place it.
_The silence._
With dawning horror, Trowa realised just what that thing was. He stood stupefied before the gravity of the situation sank in. He was conscious of only one thought, emblazoned across his mind in fire.
_The loudest sound of all is the silence of a plane's engines_
Tbc...
[1] I have absolutely no idea how long a flight of this undertaking would take. Even if I had any idea of how long it takes today, I'm sure it would have changed. Maybe I missed something but I'm just saying five cos I like the number. *shrugs*
A/N Sorry for taking so long. Yes, I am still alive and still writing this. The plot is set out, mostly, and I just need to write it. Sorry again.