But Nanashi Never Came
Chapter Two:
Trowa pounded madly on Lady Une's office door. The golden nameplate shone in the expiring sunlight that still managed to intrude between the cracks in the blinds. Fellow Preventers gave him sideways glances as he slammed his fist into the wood again. "Listen, Une! I know you're still there. Open up!"
Lady Une opened the door irritably, her hair only half unbraided; red ribbon streamed over her shoulder. "What's the meaning of this?" she snapped, expecting some lower class officer to be attempting to bang down her door in such an unruly manner. "B-Barton," she stuttered slightly, noticing the piercing green gaze in front of her. Trowa shoved past her into the cluttered office without a single spoken word. She suppressed a growl to the back of her throat and let the door swing shut with a gentle click. She gave the trailing ribbon a gentle tug and watched in the window's reflection as her hair tumbled down gently. She walked tiredly behind her desk, falling into the chair.
Trowa leaned onto the former Colonel's desk, his gaze now masked by a sweep of bangs that cast a dark shadow across his face. "What the hell are you doing bringing Midii Une to Headquarters?" he finally burst, clutching the edges of the desk. "What is she doing, being a Preventer at all?" His jaw clenched.
Lady Une concealed the shock on her face by pretending to yawn. "What is it to you, Officer Barton? Last time I checked, I was the executive chief of Preventer, and I retain the right to promote and demote any officer of my liking. That responsibility lies with me, and me alone, despite what Officer Yuy may believe." Trowa grit his teeth slightly as Lady Une turned away from him to gaze absently out the window.
"But why is she a Preventer in the first place?" he repeated. Lady Une's head snapped toward the pilot. "She can't be better than any of the other spies we have at our disposal."
"Disposal?" Lady Une snapped crossly. "We're not in a war anymore Barton, and I will remind you that in times of peace no one is 'disposable'. I suggest you stop thinking as a soldier of war and begin thinking as a soldier of peace."
"My way of thinking is what has kept me alive," Trowa retorted.
Lady Une arched her eyebrows slightly. "Is that so?" she quipped, pulling out the bottom drawer of her desk. From inside she pulled a golden chain with charm and tossed it across the desktop. Trowa stared at it unbelievingly, tracing the obviously worn and loved crucifix. He could feel the invisible welding where the two pieces had been fused back together. "Do you really think you could have survived without her help?" Lady Une began again, drumming her fingers slightly. "You may hate her Trowa, for what she did to you and to those around you, but you cannot dispute the obvious fact that without her you would be dead."
Trowa clenched the cross in his fist, before tossing it back at the Preventer chief. "I don't owe her any favors; I'm not going to thank her."
"Don't worry," Lady Une said, placing the necklace back into the drawer. "I wasn't expecting it, and I don't believe that she was either. But Midii Une stays." She watched as reborn rage spread across his face.
"But all those people she killed; she was an Alliance spy-" he spat, hoping that Lady Une's background would allow her to understand.
"She was an Alliance spy, you were a former Gundam pilot and I, a high-ranking OZ commander!" she shouted, slamming her fist onto the desk. After a moment she sighed deeply and counted to ten. She could understand his fury, but things were hard enough for Midii as it was. The last thing Midii needed, Une thought decisively, was someone blaming her for her former mistakes. She glared at Trowa from beneath the shelter of her bangs. Midii had obviously caused him pain, but it was time for him to stop living in the past.
"Trowa, I've decided to send you on a new mission," she said after a brief moment. "I know it's a bit spur of the moment, but I think it's in both of your best interests. I was going to give it to Maxwell…but you'd be much more apt for this type of thing. Not to mention I'm not sure if I trust Duo alone in this type of situation."
Trowa frowned somewhat. "In both of our best interests? You don't mean-" But Lady Une had stopped listening. Already she was shuffling through the various filing cabinets, pulling out two rather large manila folders. She flung them onto her desk. "Officer Casey," she spoke into the small intercom to her secretary. "Would you please send in Midii?"
Trowa furled his fingers into a tight fist and stiffened slightly. Uncertainty danced in his eyes.
"Don't look at me like that, Barton," she groaned, once again drumming her fingers. After a moment, she leaned back into her chair and heaved a great sigh through her bangs.
Midii knocked tentatively, poking her head around the door. Wet tendrils of hair fell across her face. "You called for me, ma'am?" she spoke quietly, sliding into the doorway and shutting the door softly behind. "I'm sorry it took me awhile to get down here; I was in the shower." Trowa risked a quick glance, noting the damp patches on her white shirt where her hair rested over her shoulders.
Lady Une stood abruptly. "No worries, I didn't expect someone with your credentials to become lost. I suppose you've already memorized the blueprints I sent you?" Midii nodded, shaking her fingers through her hair in attempt to relieve it of some water.
"I memorized those on the shuttle, as well as the security system configurations, arsenal stock and computer databases." Lady Une blinked.
"I…I hadn't sent those along. I had assumed you'd have enough with simply the forty-seven pages of blueprints." Midii shrugged, tying her hair with a handkerchief from her pocket.
"I understand. I simply took the liberties of accessing those myself after I had finished." Une smiled approvingly and nodded toward Trowa.
"Midii, I know that you've only arrived a headquarters, but I have a mission for you and Officer Barton."
"You can't be serious! Perhaps someone with a bit more experience with the system…" Trowa shot suddenly. Midii squinted her eyes and turned to gaze at the pilot. She took a quick breath as if to retort before Lady Une stood, sending her chair flying across the room.
"Of course I'm serious. Do I seem in a mood to be making jokes, Mr. Barton?" she strode quickly in front of him. "And besides, as Midii has just said, she's already familiar with our entire system of operations. I don't know what tension it is between you two, but frankly I don't give a damn. You will be going on this mission…both of you."
Midii let a brief scorn crawl across her face before it quickly disappeared. She was no more thrilled about this arrangement than Trowa, but her years of training had taught her to conceal her frustration and contempt behind a seamless, tearless mask. But then again, she thought wistfully for a moment, hadn't it had been he who had taught her such a useful still? Trowa restrained a growl.
Une let a satisfied smile grace her features. "Now then." She tossed the two files toward the pair in front of her. "There's a man on Earth by the name of Stephan Pearson. He's a rich entrepreneur and owner of Pearson Industries. During the After Colony war, both his parents were killed and he was rendered an orphan, but was quickly adopted. We've attempted to recover the adoption papers and find who in fact it was that adopted Mr. Pearson, but those files have strangely vanished. In exactly three days, Mr. Pearson will be holding a banquet in which the proceeds go toward a war orphan children's fund. However," she said lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and flipping through the paperwork. "We believe that this entire operation is a scam. Most of the money that is donated at such parties disappears into an anonymous bank with an untraceable account number. The money goes in, and a day later, it's withdrawn and never seen again."
"What are you hinting at?" Midii inquired, her eyes still running over the mounds of text and diagrams. "That Pearson makes his massive amount of money unethically? So do a lot of other entrepreneurs, but we don't worry about them. What's so special about this man?"
"We believe that Pearson is aiding and abetting someone by allowing them access to his fortune. In short, Pearson, through all the right contacts, holds all the right cards in order to start another war. The only problem is, most of our evidence is speculation. We need something tangible; that's why you two are going in." Midii grinned a moment, but it vanished as she turned the next page in the folder.
"Ma'am, it says here that-" she risked a glance at Trowa locking gazes for a brief moment. She saw spite and hatred radiating toward her before she quickly turned away. "It says her that Officer Barton and I are supposed to be married." Lady Une clapped her hands together.
"Ah! Of course! You two will be traveling as Mr. and Mrs. Veres; a rather wealthy, newly wed couple. You'll find all of your background information in those files. We've already secured two invitations to Pearson's banquet on Thursday." Midii grinned inwardly, but Trowa only dug his fingernails into his palms. "Now, I expect that there are no problems Officer Barton?" He remained silent and Lady Une took it as compliance. "Good." She glided into her seat and looked smugly at the two. What a pair they would make. She only hoped she knew what she was doing. She massaged her temples. "If there aren't any further questions…?"
Midii leafed through the paperwork one last time. "And you're sure that both of our background stories and such match?" she asked wearily. She glanced over the edge of the paper.
"Of course. I assume that that current arrangement doesn't propose any problems for the time being?" Midii stood a bit straighter and closed the file.
"None that I can see ma'am. I'm just not used to having a partner. I'm much more accustomed to solo missions; less chance of crossed wires and explosions, if you understand what I'm attempting to say." Une nodded.
"Maybe so, but neither of you could manage to pull this off alone. It requires a duet in both of your skills. I understand Trowa that you haven't had the most spy work in the department, but your acrobatic skills will be most helpful. Well then," she said, looking around. "I think that's all. You two leave tonight, so I'd think you two had better get to packing."
They both nodded, Trowa a bit more stiffly than Midii, and left. Une sat in the dimming office, attempting to control the raging heartbeat in her chest. She prayed she hadn't just set two of the most qualified Preventers in a situation they couldn't handle. She turned and looked at her reflection in the window. "I know they can handle the mission well enough," she reassured herself. She took a portion of hair, twisted it and held it on the side of her hair. "But what I'm most worried about," she spoke to her reflection, "Is if the two of them can handle each other."