Chapter 3
Noin turned away, the back of her neck crawling with the thought of that creature still at the door with Zechs. Resolutely, she shoved the thought down. Her husband obviously trusted the wolf, and she'd trusted Zechs for a very long time now.
She bounced down the steps and turned the corner, just as Zechs disappeared through the unlocked door. She immediately spotted the kitchen entrance, but made a small show of sighing over the trees to the right of it.
After a few, appropriate, moments, she turned and moved up the stairs leading to back to the cabin – or rather house, from her point of view. Lord, it seemed bigger than their original barracks back on Mars! Once within the sheltering shadows of the overhang, she eased her handgun from its shoulder harness. The knob turned stiffly under her hand, but eventually gave with a minimum of fuss. The door closed behind her with a small click, and she briefly leaned against it, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkened room.
High quality appliances and professional quality cookware lined the walls and hung from specialty racks. Any other time, she would have paused to appreciate the quality and the thought obviously put into the kitchen.
Instead, old instincts kicked in. Noting the location of potential weapons, she glided across the tile floor, her hiking boots making little sound. A large section of the wall between the living space and the kitchen was cut away, a continuation of the fluidity the built into the structure. Noin shifted accordingly, keeping to the shadows and out of the line of sight of anyone in the living room.
"Who the hell are you?" Twinned male voices caused her to catch her breath.
Cautiously, she peered around the edge of the cut away. Moonlight from the windows lining the front of the house flooded the room. And, clearly outlined two men, guns at the ready, in identical poses. The intruder looked nothing like Zechs, with short, dark hair and rugged features, but he held his ground with the same easy confidence of the former Oz soldier.
A stand off.
Without seeing it, Noin could feel each evaluating the other as best as possible in the dim light. She knew her husband's abilities, even after a year away from active war. Unfortunately, this stranger seemed just as capable.
Silence stretched, and her own pulse increased with the added tension. Finally –
"Who are you?" the stranger asked.
"A friend," Zechs replied.
The other snorted. "Friends don't normally break in with loaded weapons."
Zechs raised an eloquent eyebrow. And waited.
Just as Noin began contemplating going out there to make something happen, she heard it. A low rumble. A growl that almost vibrated the ceiling above her. A glance to the left confirmed the stairs leading to the second story.
"Why don't we let Winter decide?" Quiet amusement ran through Zechs' tone.
Suddenly, a dark shape plummeted from the landing over her head. The wolf landed lightly (how did he do that!) in the still open doorway and spun to face the two men.
"Winter knows me. How about you?"
He advanced on the pair, glowing yellow eyes locked on the intruder. With effort, Noin tore her eyes away from the wolf, to gauge the other's reaction.
The stranger stared back, attention focused away from Zechs. But, the blonde man didn't take advantage of the distraction. Instead, he kept his gaze focused on his opponent, waiting, apparently for Winter to pass judgment.
Noin hissed to herself in annoyance. A perfect opportunity to take down the enemy, and he turned it over to a wolf! Granted, a very smart, very large wolf, but still a wolf…
And one who never spared Zechs a second glance. The intruder lowered his gun reluctantly, finally allowing it dangle from one finger. "Winter?"
Winter leaped lightly up onto the nearby couch, meeting the man eye-to-eye. After a few, electric, heartbeats, the growl subsided again, but the yellow gaze never moved.
"Well," Zechs finally lowered his own gun. "Guess Winter does recognize you. Beside which, you know she's going to hate it when she learns you've been on the furniture."
The wolf flicked an ear in Zechs' direction.
The other man took a deep breath and shouldered his firearm. "You could have taken me, used the split second of Winter's arrival. But, you let him decide."
"He's a good judge of character."
"Hmmm." He flicked another glance at the still unmoving lupine. "I am a friend of Angel's too."
"A friend who feels the need to disable her security and lock out her roommate?"
The guns were down, but the tension remained. Noin left her own weapon at the ready.
"I've been here for three days without any sign of her. This was the easiest way to find out where she is. Plus, I didn't know it was Winter out there."
"You couldn't leave a note?" The chill in Zechs' voice rivaled the night air outside.
The other laughed. "Not this kind of note. Who are you?"
"She calls me Wind."
The other man smiled in appreciation. "She calls me partner."
Zechs' hand tightened around his gun. Partner! "Impossible. Her partner's dead."
"That rumor is somewhat exaggerated. Call me Devil." He bowed with a small flourish.
"I repeat, the Red Devil died two years ago. Silver herself saw it."
Devil quirked a brow. "Guess you've spoken with her, at least. Mind if we hold this conversation in the light, without loaded guns and," he turned to Winter, "death glares?"
The wolf sneezed.
Zechs drew a breath. "All right," he finally conceded. The man was obviously known to Winter, meaning he could be a friend, or at least not an enemy. "Come on out Fire."
Noin emerged into the light of the cut-out between him and the kitchen. Her expression remained blank, but he could see the annoyance in her eyes. And the still cocked gun in her hand.
Devil turned with a start, the chuckled ruefully. "I had a feeling she wasn't the quiet-wait-in-the-car type." The man moved to close the door and the light panel beside it.
Noin emerged from the doorway to the kitchen, gun finally holstered. "Wind, is this a good idea?" she asked lowly.
"For now, yes."
Shaking her head, she followed him to the chairs framing the large, stone fireplace. He was also pretty sure that gun wasn't secured in that holster.
Lights flickered around various parts of the room as the Devil attempted to find the right switch. Winter's tail twitched as he settled on the hearthstone, still watching the dark-haired man.
Zechs paused at the deep blue, overstuffed armchair positioned to catch the right amount of heat, had there been a fire, and within arm's reach of the poker. The memory of Silver, snuggled in its depths, bathed in the glow of the flames and glass of wine in hand, flashed over him.
"Geez, Wind. If you don't stop wearing a path in my floor I'm going to have to tackle you."
He shook his head briefly, clearing the memory, and turned to the concerned look in Noin's eyes. He lifted a corner of his mouth. "It's okay," he whispered, and handed her into the seat. He sat on the hearth, next to Winter. Unobtrusively, a tail laid itself across his thighs.
Devil came back and plunked himself down into the only other chair. "Guess when you're the only one living here, there's no need to label the lights." His bright smiled died somewhat in the impassivity of Zechs and Noin.
"If you are the Devil," Zechs asked, "how did you survive?"
The smiled died completely. "By luck. The beam Angel thought killed me, only mostly crushed me. Somehow my upper body fell into a … gap, of sorts, protecting me from the worst of the weight. Two days passed before someone finally dug me out. It was three months before I could walk. Almost six before I remembered who I was.
"My benefactors told me no-one had escaped." He laughed, a bitter sound. "I had to regain my memory to fully experience that pain. After all, no one around knew who I was, or that the Angel should have been with me. It was like someone ripped my heart out," he finished softly.
"Your benefactors?"
"Villagers. Natives of the country Angel and I had been sent to 'soften' up, allowing Oz to move in. I've been living on my own, traveling the world and the colonies, just trying to stay out of the way of all governments, ever since. Hell, I accidentally stumbled across one of the old account codes, just last month, and saw the activity. It took me weeks to track it, and another four days to get here."
Noin frowned slightly, but remained silent. He filed away her reaction for later discussion.
"So, we know each other. Who's she?" The other man's dark eyes took in Noin from head to toe. And back again.
Zechs saw the annoyance flare in her eyes. But, her face fell into its best highly-displeased-academy-instructor look. The school-boy grin slid off the Devil's face.
"Call me Fire," she answered coolly. "His partner."
"Let me guess, a friend of Angel's too, huh?"
Noin raised one eyebrow and gazed impassively back.
Devil met her eyes, and eventually gave her a little salute before returning his attention to Zechs. "Now," he leaned forward, "how do you know Angel?"
"She pried me out of my mobile suit after the Eve Wars, and patched me up. We've stayed in contact on and off ever since."
"And, what? You two just decided to pop in for a visit?"
Zechs hesitated, uncertain how much to tell this man.
The Devil's face stilled, all joviality gone. "I'd been here for days before I let myself in. And this place feels like it hasn't seen body or soul for weeks. So, what happened?"
Zechs let out a long breath. "Silver sent me a message almost two months ago. I believe I was her back up in case a mission went south."
"What?" Devil reared back in his chair, eyes wide. "Dammit, I thought she took herself out of the game. I may not have her skills with computer, nor her endemic memory for contacts but the information I did find indicated she'd buried herself good and deep and had no intention of coming out again."
"Seems something made her stir. I should have received a second message from her three weeks ago. It never came."
"And you waited this long to come here?" The Devil shot to his feet, anger blazing from his eyes. "You, her friend?"
Winter's chest rumbled silently. Zechs put a calming hand on the wolf's ruff. He met the other man's eyes stoically. "I only received the first message a day ago. That second message never came."
"Sorry," The other man sagged back into his chair and rubbed a hand over his face. "But, it's highly ironic. I finally find her, just to have her go missing. What the hell was she thinking…"
Zechs smiled wryly. "I've asked myself that same question."
"So," Devil looked up, eyes boring into Zechs'. "So, did this first message say what to do if the second never arrived?"
"Not explicitly, no."
Devil groaned. "Of course not. And she was always telling me the simpler the plan, the better." He ran a hand through his short hair, spiking it even more. "I know Angel. Data, information, records were life blood to her. She must have kept something, somewhere, for you – especially if she sent you a message."
Zechs grunted. He'd come to the same conclusion on Mars.
"Now, where?"
Zechs looked down to Winter at his side. Yellow eyes flickered between the two men, but no definitive movement. "Letting me handle this on, huh?" he murmured.
This time the ear flicked twice.
"Fine." Brushing the tail off his legs, he stood. His companions jerked their gazes back to him; Devil's from the floor, Noin from narrow-eyed inspection of Devil.
"I know."
"Time to go."
Silver raised her head from the pillow of her hands. Lying on her stomach was the only semi-comfortable position shed found in the hours since her release from the infirmary. Just enough time for the brand to start burning again.
The young guard in her doorway jerked the sub-machine gun in his hands. With a small sigh, she slid over the edge of the bed and rose to her feet as gracefully as possible. He swallowed nervously and backed away as she approached. For one, brief moment she allowed herself the fantasy of taking down the youngster, and getting the hell out of here. But his compatriots flanking the door would be on her after three steps. And she couldn't take out all three, not and win, not in this state.
She fell into step, one guard before her, two behind. Always the same pattern. Always the same path. It was almost enough to make you insane. But, not quite.
Silently they marched through the halls, to the familiar interrogation room. The two, older guards kept their weapons trained on her while youngster strapped her to the only chair in the center of the room. By the looks of the tray off to the right, drugs were the instruments of choice today.
"So, why are you here?" she asked quietly.
Youngster jerked back as if she'd struck him.
"Wha- what?"
"I asked why you're here. What's this cause to you?"
He pulled the restraints in place, fumbling with the buckles slightly. But, he stayed focusing on the task at hand. Or, so it seemed.
"Everyone has a reason. The dog died. The wife ran off. The government's evil. The war. Hell, the wars."
His startlingly blue eyes tightened.
"But, people die everyday in wars. That's what people do. They fight. And die."
"Civilians don't fight," he said thickly.
"In battle, everyone's fair game." She paused. "Even colonies."
"They couldn't defend themselves! Not against that Gundum – "
"Ebren."
Youngster – Ebren – gulped and stumbled away.
"And, if I told you I was a Gundum pilot, Ebren?" Silver called softly. "That I piloted the Zero system that destroyed your colony?"
Hate twisted his young features before he turned and stiffly saluted the officer in the doorway.
Who saluted back off-handedly, and dismissed all three guards. He sauntered fully into the room as the door closed.
"Well, well, well. The Silver Angel, in the flesh."
"Or what's left of it. What are you doing here Cold?"
"Somebody's got to pay the bills." He paused a few feet away, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest. Other than the tan uniform she was truly begin to despise, Cold Strike hadn't changed much in the three years since she'd seen him last. Same raven hair, same grey eyes that spawn his moniker.
"So, why are you here Angel? No one's hears anything from you in almost two years. I'm pretty sure there's a pool on whether or not you cashed in with the Devil."
"Which way did you vote?"
He grinned. "I made my money."
"Of course."
"And you didn't answer the question."
Silver gave a bark of laughter. "Hell, I've answered the question right from the beginning. Why am I anywhere, Cold? It ain't a secret."
"Information." He grinned.
She grinned back, if baring your teeth could be called a grin.
"Some things never change." True amusement danced through his eyes. "For whom?"
"No one. Like I've also said before, I'm freelance, Cold."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Come on, Angel. One professional to another. You just decided to infiltrate an organization like the Black Rose for kicks and giggles? With no one paying you?"
"No one has to pay me, Cold. Unlike you, I don't have a taste for fast women, fast cars and losing horses."
He chuckled outright. "Cute. True, but cute. So, where the info Angel? Intel figures you had at least two days to rummage through the system before they caught you. You and I know that's plenty of time for you to gather all sorts of lovely tid-bits."
She shrugged as much as the restraints allowed. Seeing Cold Strike, this discussion, was a tactic she hadn't expected. But, once again, it was also a classic.
"Where's the cache?"
"Been through my rooms?" He snorted. And she grinned again back. "My information, Cold. I stole it fair and square. Why should I give it back? Not like you're letting me out of here any time soon to give it to anyone, now are you?"
"Because he'll keep at it, Cyn." The grin was gone, seriousness replacing the banter in his eyes.
"He'll keep at it anyhow Adam. He'll stop when his toy's broke. The information is a convenient excuse. We both know that." She saw the recognition in his eyes, the same truth mirrored back to her. It was actually somewhat comforting. He was currently working for the enemy, but, finally, here was someone with a grasp on the reality of her situation.
Cold Strike, Adam Tresky, old, and sometimes trusted friend, squatted in front of her chair, putting them almost at eye level.
"Then turn. Work with me. He won't touch you then."
Sorry for the slight delay in updating – my computer finally went to the doctor, taking much longer than anticipated! Much appreciation to those who have reviewed my work so far. I hate begging for more reviews, it tends to make me look so desperate… But, hey, why mess with reality? Reviews are always received with wonder and joy. And, I'll even write back with thank yous if you have an email address. J