Title: Exercising an Option
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Adventure Pairings: 5+S, 3+4, 13+6, 1+2 Warnings: AU, Language, Violence, Yaoi Rating: R Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates, GWFF, SDQB
Chapter 22
"Mom, why are you up?" asked Matt, rubbing his eyes. He was standing in the hallway wearing his pajamas, and holding an old blanket he had slept with since he was a toddler.
"I couldn't sleep, sweetie," said Sally, patting the sofa next to her. "Come and sit with me until you get sleepy again. I'm sorry I woke you up."
Matt climbed up on the sofa next to her and slid his head onto her lap, still holding the tattered old blanket. Sally smiled, glad that he was still enough of a "baby" to let her cuddle him once in a while. Not that she'd ever say that to him.
"Mom," began Matt in a sleepy voice.
"What?"
"You should marry Wufei," he said, and yawned again.
Sally coughed. "Oh, and I suppose you have this all worked out?"
"Well, I need a dad again, so you need to marry him. That's the way it works, right?"
"Not exactly," said Sally dryly. She felt a gnawing pain of anxiety as she thought of Wufei's earlier phone call. Why hadn't he or Duo, or even Heero called her back?
"You like him, right?" asked Matt, wiggling a little on her lap.
"Yes, very much," said Sally, reaching down to rub his back. Matt stopped wiggling and sighed.
"I think he likes you," said Matt seriously. "He looks at you funny."
Sally couldn't repress a small hiccup of laughter.
"Funny?" she had to ask.
"You know, like he watches you do everything. Did you kiss him yet?"
"Matty!" she exclaimed, giving him a tap on the shoulder.
"Girls at school tried to kiss me at recess. So I know if you like a boy, you try to kiss him, right?"
"I can see we're going to have to have a long talk about girls and kissing," said Sally.
"I hate long talks," griped Matt drowsily. "They're boring and I don't get most of it anyway."
"How about a short talk, then?" asked Sally.
"Um," said Matt, sliding into sleep. "'kay."
The phone rang, startling her and Matt mumbled and shifted in his half- aware state.
Sally reached for the phone holding her breath.
"Sally?" a familiar voice whispered.
"Wufei!" she said, "Is that you?"
"Sally, I don't have much time, so listen carefully. Call the police, and get them out here. I'm all right, but there are armed men at the inn and there's been shooting. We need the police, now."
"Oh, my God!" she said in a loud, harsh whisper, gripping the phone.
"Just get the police out here. And whatever you do, don't come out here."
"But, Wufei!" she protested.
"You can help us by getting the police here as soon as possible," he whispered. "NOW! I tried, but I can't get a signal outside of the local area. We're too remote."
"I'll call them right away," she said, unconsciously whispering too. "Don't get killed, okay?" Her voice shook a little.
"If anyone ends up dead, it won't be me," she heard him say in a hard voice.
"I don't want to hang up," she said, choking. "I'm afraid I'll never hear your voice again."
Silence. "You will," she heard, a determined sound. "I can't talk any longer. Sally, I-I love you, and I'm not going to die, okay?"
"Okay," she agreed tearfully.
"Don't cry, I need you to be strong now!" he said. "Call the police. I'm hanging up."
The phone went dead.
She dialed the number with shaking hands, looking at Matt peacefully sleeping on the sofa.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Quatre looked at Wufei as he turned off the cell phone. "We should have done that earlier."
"Too busy trying to stay alive," said Wufei. They had taken temporary cover behind the reception desk.
"They're up there in the apartment, and Trowa is there," said Quatre, his voice flat with tension.
"Heero and Duo too," said Wufei. "To be honest, I don't know what to do next. There's just the two of us, and getting ourselves killed won't help anyone upstairs right now. We need the police."
"I'm afraid if they're cornered, they'll simply kill everyone and try to get away," said Quatre. "If only we had some leverage, something they wanted."
"We don't even know who these guys are and what they want," whispered Wufei.
"It has something to do with Treize or Zechs, obviously," said Quatre. "I wish I could think! I keep thinking there's something I should be putting together about them."
Wufei put a hand on his shoulder. "Just breathe. Waiting for the police is our best bet at the moment."
"Trowa could be hurt or dead!" whispered Quatre furiously. "I don't know if I can wait and do nothing!"
"You can't afford to indulge in that kind of thinking!" said Wufei harshly, giving his shoulder a shake.
"You're giving them all the leverage they need to play you!"
"I know!" said Quatre, shrugging off his grasp angrily. "Don't you think I know that? Remember me, the guy who makes all the deals?"
"Then, goddammit act like it!" said Wufei. "Use that talent to get us something to work with instead of imagining the worse!"
"There's something about Zechs," said Quatre pensively, pushing down his fear and anger.
"What?" asked Wufei, curiously. "What about Zechs?"
"I keep thinking I've met him before," said Quatre. "I know that sounds unlikely, but I can't ignore it."
"Where do you think you met him?" asked Wufei curiously.
"When I was much younger," said Quatre. "I used to go on business trips with my dad a lot."
"You think Winner Enterprises did business with someone connected to Zechs?"
"I don't recognize the name, though," said Quatre, his face clenched with the effort to remember.
"Maybe he was called something else back then?" asked Wufei.
Quatre's eyes came open in the dim light. "That's it!" he whispered loudly.
"That's why I couldn't remember. I think Zechs is the Peacecraft heir, but his name was Milliard then. I remember now because it was such an unusual name. We met at parties and such a few times. My father did a lot of business with the Peacecraft Foundation."
"You think these guys are after a ransom, then?" asked Wufei.
"More than likely," said Quatre. "It's almost a blessing for me that I've been disinherited, more or less."
"Then they won't kill them," said Wufei. "They just want money."
"I hope so," said Quatre. "If they only want money, that gives us some leverage. Wufei, didn't you take that guy's two-way radio?"
"Yeah," said Wufei. "Habit, I suppose. You take the enemies weapons and communications when dead or captured."
"Give it to me," whispered Quatre. "I'm gonna make them an offer that they can't refuse."
Wufei looked at him, frowning. "We should wait for the police."
"If money is what they want," Quatre said. "I'll offer them all they want. I don't give a damn about money, I just want Trowa and my friends back, unharmed."
"You know what?" asked Wufei, handing him the two-way.
"What?" Quatre asked him in turn, taking the radio.
"When it comes to making a deal, you've got more balls than a bowling alley."
Quatre grinned nervously at him in the dim light. "Love makes you do crazy shit, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," sighed Wufei. "It does."
Quatre thumbed open the channel on the radio and cleared his throat to speak. "Hello?" he asked into the radio. "Can anyone hear me? My name is Quatre Raberba Winner, and I'd like to talk to whoever's in charge." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Duo, are you all right?" asked Heero, inching over to his lover.
"Quiet!" said McGuire, slapping Heero hard across the face. Heero glared and spat out a mouthful of blood.
"That's twice you've hit me," he said in a level voice. "Third times a charm."
"Cocky little bastard, aren't you?" growled McGuire, raising a hand to slap him again. Heero's cold stare never wavered.
"Quit wasting time with that one," said Marron sharply. "He's of no importance. Get your ass over here and help us with the hostages."
"Later, you and me," said McGuire in a harsh whisper.
"Looking forward to it," said Heero emotionlessly.
McGuire grinned wolfishly.
Heero leaned over and whispered in Duo's ear. "Duo, can you hear me?"
"Yeah," Duo gasped. "Feel like I was eaten by a bear and shit off a cliff," he said hoarsely.
"You were shot," said Heero. "I can't see, but I'm sure you're bleeding."
"Treize is gonna kill me for bleeding on his Persian rug," whispered Duo, with an edge of hysteria in his voice.
"Fuck the rug," said Heero. "Tell me where you're hit."
"Arm, I think," gasped Duo. "Left arm feels like it's on fire. And I can't move it right."
"Good, it's not a vital area," whispered Heero.
"Easy for you to say."
"Try to focus on your breathing," hissed Heero in his ear.
"I think I'll focus on fucking killing the bastard that shot me," said Duo harshly.
"That works too."
"Heero?"
"What, koi?"
"Don't leave me, okay?"
"I won't. I promise."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Mil," sobbed Relena. "Mil, answer me, please."
"He's not dead," said Treize with a calmness he didn't feel. "Just unconscious."
"Quiet," said Marron without heat. "Tell the girl to stop that infernal weeping or I really will kill him."
"Relena," said Treize in the same tone. "Please, get hold of yourself. Mil's life depends on it."
She swallowed a sob and nodded, although in the candlelit gloom the gesture was almost unnoticed. "I will."
"Good girl," said Treize encouragingly. "I knew you could do it."
"I've always wondered what it would take to unnerve you," said a feminine voice in the darkness.
Treize started. "My God, Une?" he said in disbelief.
"Well, at least you remember my voice," said Une in a cynical tone.
"Why wouldn't I?" countered Treize, struggling a bit against the bonds on his wrists.
"Because you discard people and things so easily," said Une bitterly. "Then forget them, I would assume."
"No," said Treize, "What makes you say that? Une, are you with these men? Whatever for?"
Une laughed hollowly. "Even now, you haven't a clue, do you?"
"I don't," said Treize in a bewildered tone. "Why would you want to hurt us, to hurt me?"
"God, you really are arrogant beyond all belief, you know that?" she said, pulling off her watch cap and kneeling down by him.
"Yes, I suppose I am," he said quietly. "Because I have no idea why you'd do these things. You're not the woman I remember."
"Oh, but I am the woman you created," hissed Une near his face.
"I gave you everything, my loyalty, my advice, even my friendship for years and my payment was to be cast aside like yesterday's trash."
"I couldn't work with you anymore, Une," he said. "You needed medical help, and I got it for you. I told you if you got better there would be a place for you with me again."
"You had me committed!" she hissed. "I confided in you and you betrayed me!"
"I only wanted to help you," said Treize quietly.
"Liar!" she spat at him.
"If you were in your right mind, you'd know I'm telling you the truth," he said.
"I am in my right mind," she hissed. "I know when I've been betrayed."
"You need help," said Treize.
"I have help," said Une. "Les Noire has given me all the help I need."
"Help to do what?" asked Treize. "Become a terrorist, a criminal?"
She drew back her hand to strike him, but hesitated. "You hate me, don't you?" she asked brokenly.
"No," said Treize. "I never did."
She stared at him in the gloom.
"Une!" barked Marron. "Enough of this banter. They're secure. Contact Reynaud and inform him that the hostages are secure."
"I thought were gonna get rid of this one," said McGuire, nudging an unconscious Zechs with the toe of his boot.
"Change of plans," said Marron smoothly. "The goose is going to lay the golden egg before we cook him."
"Whatever," said McGuire, in a clipped tone. "I don't like it when I'm not in on all the details."
"You'll get what we agreed to," said Marron. "That's all you need be concerned about."
"They won't give you anything for him if he's dead," said Treize. "Let me make sure he's all right."
Marron looked at him for a moment. "Okay, I'll untie you. Do one thing I don't like and you can join your boyfriend in blessed unconsciousness."
He reached down and unlocked the leather shackles on Trieze's wrists.
"Thank you," said Treize calmly. He slid over on the floor and touched Zech's face.
"Mil," he said gently. "Can you hear me?"
Zechs stirred a little. "I'm going to make sure your wounds aren't bleeding, I'll try not to hurt you."
"I need some light," said Treize. Marron switched on a flashlight, making them all blink in the harsh light.
Zech's face was pale in the unnatural light, but his eyelids fluttered. "Treize," he mumbled.
"Yes, I'm here," said Treize soothingly. "You were shot, but the bullet seems to have missed anything vital," he said, checking the impromptu first aid that had been applied to Zech's side.
"Hurts," mumbled Zechs. Relena bit her lip, but refused to sob. Trowa leaned over and whispered something to her, and she nodded.
"I know," said Treize. "But you're going to be all right," he said.
"Satisfied your amour isn't going to die?" asked Marron snidely.
Treize nodded. "Yes," he said simply. "Thank you."
"You're a polite bastard, I'll give you that," said Marron.
"I'll need your wrists again," said Marron. "But, I'll be a nice guy and let you stay next to the pretty one here, all right?"
Treize nodded wordlessly and offered his wrists.
"That's a good boy," said Marron mockingly. "Play nice and I'll make sure that he lives. You're smart to cooperate." He locked the cuffs back onto the offered wrists.
The darkness was interrupted by a faint burst of static.
"Hello? Can anyone hear me? My name is Quatre Raberba Winner, and I'd like to talk to whoever's in charge."
Trowa's head jerked at the familiar voice. "No," he whispered to himself.
Marron pushed a button on his own radio. "I'm in charge here," he said. "How do I know you are who you say you are?"
"You don't," said Quatre. "But, my signature is on the register in the lobby, and it'd be an easy matter for my family to identify it. They'll verify I'm here on vacation."
"What are you offering?" asked Marron, licking his lips.
"Money," said Quatre simply. "What else? In return for the lives of my friends."
"I see," said Marron thoughtfully. He cut the connection and chuckled.
"Well, it seems we have providence on our side this evening," he said to Une, grinning. "Two golden geese."
"Reynaud would be pleased to know that the sole male heir of the Winner fortune has also found his way into our hands."
"If he is who he says he is," said Une.
"Why would he lie about such a thing?" said Marron.
"If some of these folks we have trussed up are his buddies, they'll know," said Slim finally speaking.
"Ah, finally an intelligent suggestion from our lanky friend here," said Marron.
"Estevez," said McGuire, suddenly. "Ask him if he's seen Estevez. They must have his radio."
Marron's eyes narrowed, "Ah oui, we do seem to be missing our Cuban friend," he said.
He thumbed on the radio. "Monsieur Winner, perhaps you might know the whereabouts of one of our party?"
"He's dead," said a voice, unmistakably Wufei's. Heero exhaled quietly as did Trowa, relieved.
"And to whom do I have the pleasure of talking to now?" asked Marron with exaggerated politeness.
"Chang Wufei," said Wufei coolly.
"Monsieur Chang," said Marron. "Should I know your name?"
"He's some movie guy," blurted out Slim, earning him a silencing look from Une.
"Yes," said Wufei. "It's the last name you'll think of before you die."
"Ah, Monsieur Chang believes this is a movie. He gives me the hero's line to the bad guy." Marron chuckled.
"I don't do lines." Wufei's voice came clearly over the radio. "Only action."
"I want to talk to Monsieur Winner," said Marron, sounding irritated.
"I'm here," said Quatre.
"I think perhaps you are more reasonable than your friend," said Marron. "Make your deal with me."
"I'll give you my sister Layla's private phone number and you can call her," said Quatre. "State your terms to her. She's the acting head of Winner Enterprises. Then, let me talk to her, and you can have whatever you want if you let us all go."
"You are direct, Monsieur Winner."
"I try," said Quatre.
"I have terms of my own," said Marron. "Turn yourself over to me, and then we call your sister, and she will know if you are who you claim to be and if you are worth anything to me."
"No!" said Trowa, "Don't do it Quatre!" he yelled.
"Ah, I think I have found one of your friends," said Marron, motioning to Slim. Slim yanked Trowa up by his bound hands and pushed him toward Marron.
"Well, at least we know you're no doubt who you say your are, Monsieur Winner," said Marron. "Thank you for that, Monsieur..?"
"Tu es un cochon," spat Trowa.
"Always good to talk to a fellow countryman," said Marron, dark eyes glinting with amusement.
"Trowa?" asked Quatre's voice over the radio.
"I think he wants to speak with you, Monsieur Trowa," said Marron.
"I'm here," said Trowa, giving Marron a dark look.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" asked Trowa in a harsh whisper.
"I'm trying to get us all out of this mess," said Quatre.
"By sacrificing yourself?" asked Trowa incredulously.
"No," said Quatre, his voice pleading for understanding. "It's only money."
"Don't give this piece of filth anything!" hissed Trowa. "Least of all yourself. Just get out of here while you still can."
"Ah, il est tres brave, votre ami," said Marron, pulling the radio away from Trowa's face.
"I can't do that," said Quatre's voice sadly over the connection. "You'll just have to forgive me, Tro."
Trowa was pushed down onto one of the sofas by Slim. "Ah, I think he's gonna cry," said Slim, peering down at Trowa's face.
Trowa bit his lip and said nothing, averting his face.
"Are you prepared to surrender yourself to me, Winner?" asked Marron coldly.
"Yes," said Quatre, "But only as an exchange. I want you to let Trowa Barton, Heero Yuy, and Duo Maxwell go in return. They're of no value to you anyway, and will only hinder your escape."
"True," conceded Marron. "Very well, I'll let them go. Start walking up the stairs and I'll send them down at the same time."
"I want to see them first," said Quatre.
"Very well," said Marron in an annoyed tone. "McGuire, take these three gentlemen and show them the door." He pointed at Trowa, Heero and Duo.
"Can you get up, koi?" asked Heero.
"To get out of here I can run a fucking marathon," grunted Duo as he staggered to his feet. He leaned heavily against Heero, panting.
"I'm not going," said Trowa, shaking his head. "I'm staying with Quatre."
"Don't be stupid!" Heero grated at him.
"I don't care," said Trowa stubbornly. "I'm not leaving him."
"You're officially the biggest idiot ever born," said Heero.
"Just get the hell out of here," said Trowa quietly. "Tell Quatre I'm waiting for him."
"You're sure?" asked Duo, his eyes filling with tears of both pain and sadness.
"Yeah," said Trowa, looking away. "Go."
Heero held out his hands. "Untie my hands," he said to McGuire.
McGuire sneered. "We'll play later," he said menacingly to Heero, taking a knife and roughly cutting the makeshift cloth strips that had been used to bind his hands.
Heero put his arm around Duo and held him up. "Come on koi, we're leaving."
McGuire opened on of the battered doors, looking around into the gloom.
"He's coming," he said to Marron. Quatre's lone figure was coming up the staircase.
McGuire shoved the barrel of his gun into Heero's back. "Go down slow, and don't try anything. And don't call the cops, because your friend's lives won't be worth a damn if we see cops."
Heero began to walk to the top of the staircase, following the dimming light of the flashlight that McGuire held on them.
Almost halfway up the staircase, they passed Quatre, who was looking resolutely forward.
"He wouldn't come with us," said Heero in a low voice as he helped Duo down the stairs. "He's waiting for you."
"I know," said Quatre softly. "It's all right."
They passed, not pausing.
"Sorry," rasped Duo to no one in particular.
"Over here!" Wufei motioned to him from behind the reception counter where he still hid.
They limped over.
"Duo's hurt," said Heero, setting him down gently. "Bullet wound to the left upper arm. I think it's broken."
"We need to get him out of here," said Wufei. "But, I can't leave Quatre and Trowa."
"I'm okay," said Duo. "It doesn't hurt so bad anymore."
"That's not always a good sign," said Heero. "I'm getting you out of here, but Wufei and I are going to come back and do what we can."
"I had Sally call the police," said Wufei. "Although I have no idea of when they'll be here."
"If our friends upstairs have any notion the police are coming, they'll kill everyone just to get away," said Heero grimly.
"I know, but we can't do this on our own Heero," hissed Wufei. "This isn't the goddam war and we don't have a goddam tank!"
"I don't need a tank, Wufei," said Heero. "Just a chance to take out four gun-toting maniacs."
"We need to get out of here, then we can plan what we're going to do next," said Wufei.
"And Duo needs a hospital," said Heero.
"I left Duo's car parked outside and down the hill," said Heero. "We're going to drive him to Sally's and call an ambulance for Duo."
Wufie cautiously stood up. "No one watching us, I think they really intended to let us go," said Wufei.
"Keep down in case that lunatic upstairs changes his mind."
With Duo supported between them, they crept to the kitchen door and made their way outside.
TBC
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Adventure Pairings: 5+S, 3+4, 13+6, 1+2 Warnings: AU, Language, Violence, Yaoi Rating: R Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates, GWFF, SDQB
Chapter 22
"Mom, why are you up?" asked Matt, rubbing his eyes. He was standing in the hallway wearing his pajamas, and holding an old blanket he had slept with since he was a toddler.
"I couldn't sleep, sweetie," said Sally, patting the sofa next to her. "Come and sit with me until you get sleepy again. I'm sorry I woke you up."
Matt climbed up on the sofa next to her and slid his head onto her lap, still holding the tattered old blanket. Sally smiled, glad that he was still enough of a "baby" to let her cuddle him once in a while. Not that she'd ever say that to him.
"Mom," began Matt in a sleepy voice.
"What?"
"You should marry Wufei," he said, and yawned again.
Sally coughed. "Oh, and I suppose you have this all worked out?"
"Well, I need a dad again, so you need to marry him. That's the way it works, right?"
"Not exactly," said Sally dryly. She felt a gnawing pain of anxiety as she thought of Wufei's earlier phone call. Why hadn't he or Duo, or even Heero called her back?
"You like him, right?" asked Matt, wiggling a little on her lap.
"Yes, very much," said Sally, reaching down to rub his back. Matt stopped wiggling and sighed.
"I think he likes you," said Matt seriously. "He looks at you funny."
Sally couldn't repress a small hiccup of laughter.
"Funny?" she had to ask.
"You know, like he watches you do everything. Did you kiss him yet?"
"Matty!" she exclaimed, giving him a tap on the shoulder.
"Girls at school tried to kiss me at recess. So I know if you like a boy, you try to kiss him, right?"
"I can see we're going to have to have a long talk about girls and kissing," said Sally.
"I hate long talks," griped Matt drowsily. "They're boring and I don't get most of it anyway."
"How about a short talk, then?" asked Sally.
"Um," said Matt, sliding into sleep. "'kay."
The phone rang, startling her and Matt mumbled and shifted in his half- aware state.
Sally reached for the phone holding her breath.
"Sally?" a familiar voice whispered.
"Wufei!" she said, "Is that you?"
"Sally, I don't have much time, so listen carefully. Call the police, and get them out here. I'm all right, but there are armed men at the inn and there's been shooting. We need the police, now."
"Oh, my God!" she said in a loud, harsh whisper, gripping the phone.
"Just get the police out here. And whatever you do, don't come out here."
"But, Wufei!" she protested.
"You can help us by getting the police here as soon as possible," he whispered. "NOW! I tried, but I can't get a signal outside of the local area. We're too remote."
"I'll call them right away," she said, unconsciously whispering too. "Don't get killed, okay?" Her voice shook a little.
"If anyone ends up dead, it won't be me," she heard him say in a hard voice.
"I don't want to hang up," she said, choking. "I'm afraid I'll never hear your voice again."
Silence. "You will," she heard, a determined sound. "I can't talk any longer. Sally, I-I love you, and I'm not going to die, okay?"
"Okay," she agreed tearfully.
"Don't cry, I need you to be strong now!" he said. "Call the police. I'm hanging up."
The phone went dead.
She dialed the number with shaking hands, looking at Matt peacefully sleeping on the sofa.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Quatre looked at Wufei as he turned off the cell phone. "We should have done that earlier."
"Too busy trying to stay alive," said Wufei. They had taken temporary cover behind the reception desk.
"They're up there in the apartment, and Trowa is there," said Quatre, his voice flat with tension.
"Heero and Duo too," said Wufei. "To be honest, I don't know what to do next. There's just the two of us, and getting ourselves killed won't help anyone upstairs right now. We need the police."
"I'm afraid if they're cornered, they'll simply kill everyone and try to get away," said Quatre. "If only we had some leverage, something they wanted."
"We don't even know who these guys are and what they want," whispered Wufei.
"It has something to do with Treize or Zechs, obviously," said Quatre. "I wish I could think! I keep thinking there's something I should be putting together about them."
Wufei put a hand on his shoulder. "Just breathe. Waiting for the police is our best bet at the moment."
"Trowa could be hurt or dead!" whispered Quatre furiously. "I don't know if I can wait and do nothing!"
"You can't afford to indulge in that kind of thinking!" said Wufei harshly, giving his shoulder a shake.
"You're giving them all the leverage they need to play you!"
"I know!" said Quatre, shrugging off his grasp angrily. "Don't you think I know that? Remember me, the guy who makes all the deals?"
"Then, goddammit act like it!" said Wufei. "Use that talent to get us something to work with instead of imagining the worse!"
"There's something about Zechs," said Quatre pensively, pushing down his fear and anger.
"What?" asked Wufei, curiously. "What about Zechs?"
"I keep thinking I've met him before," said Quatre. "I know that sounds unlikely, but I can't ignore it."
"Where do you think you met him?" asked Wufei curiously.
"When I was much younger," said Quatre. "I used to go on business trips with my dad a lot."
"You think Winner Enterprises did business with someone connected to Zechs?"
"I don't recognize the name, though," said Quatre, his face clenched with the effort to remember.
"Maybe he was called something else back then?" asked Wufei.
Quatre's eyes came open in the dim light. "That's it!" he whispered loudly.
"That's why I couldn't remember. I think Zechs is the Peacecraft heir, but his name was Milliard then. I remember now because it was such an unusual name. We met at parties and such a few times. My father did a lot of business with the Peacecraft Foundation."
"You think these guys are after a ransom, then?" asked Wufei.
"More than likely," said Quatre. "It's almost a blessing for me that I've been disinherited, more or less."
"Then they won't kill them," said Wufei. "They just want money."
"I hope so," said Quatre. "If they only want money, that gives us some leverage. Wufei, didn't you take that guy's two-way radio?"
"Yeah," said Wufei. "Habit, I suppose. You take the enemies weapons and communications when dead or captured."
"Give it to me," whispered Quatre. "I'm gonna make them an offer that they can't refuse."
Wufei looked at him, frowning. "We should wait for the police."
"If money is what they want," Quatre said. "I'll offer them all they want. I don't give a damn about money, I just want Trowa and my friends back, unharmed."
"You know what?" asked Wufei, handing him the two-way.
"What?" Quatre asked him in turn, taking the radio.
"When it comes to making a deal, you've got more balls than a bowling alley."
Quatre grinned nervously at him in the dim light. "Love makes you do crazy shit, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," sighed Wufei. "It does."
Quatre thumbed open the channel on the radio and cleared his throat to speak. "Hello?" he asked into the radio. "Can anyone hear me? My name is Quatre Raberba Winner, and I'd like to talk to whoever's in charge." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Duo, are you all right?" asked Heero, inching over to his lover.
"Quiet!" said McGuire, slapping Heero hard across the face. Heero glared and spat out a mouthful of blood.
"That's twice you've hit me," he said in a level voice. "Third times a charm."
"Cocky little bastard, aren't you?" growled McGuire, raising a hand to slap him again. Heero's cold stare never wavered.
"Quit wasting time with that one," said Marron sharply. "He's of no importance. Get your ass over here and help us with the hostages."
"Later, you and me," said McGuire in a harsh whisper.
"Looking forward to it," said Heero emotionlessly.
McGuire grinned wolfishly.
Heero leaned over and whispered in Duo's ear. "Duo, can you hear me?"
"Yeah," Duo gasped. "Feel like I was eaten by a bear and shit off a cliff," he said hoarsely.
"You were shot," said Heero. "I can't see, but I'm sure you're bleeding."
"Treize is gonna kill me for bleeding on his Persian rug," whispered Duo, with an edge of hysteria in his voice.
"Fuck the rug," said Heero. "Tell me where you're hit."
"Arm, I think," gasped Duo. "Left arm feels like it's on fire. And I can't move it right."
"Good, it's not a vital area," whispered Heero.
"Easy for you to say."
"Try to focus on your breathing," hissed Heero in his ear.
"I think I'll focus on fucking killing the bastard that shot me," said Duo harshly.
"That works too."
"Heero?"
"What, koi?"
"Don't leave me, okay?"
"I won't. I promise."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Mil," sobbed Relena. "Mil, answer me, please."
"He's not dead," said Treize with a calmness he didn't feel. "Just unconscious."
"Quiet," said Marron without heat. "Tell the girl to stop that infernal weeping or I really will kill him."
"Relena," said Treize in the same tone. "Please, get hold of yourself. Mil's life depends on it."
She swallowed a sob and nodded, although in the candlelit gloom the gesture was almost unnoticed. "I will."
"Good girl," said Treize encouragingly. "I knew you could do it."
"I've always wondered what it would take to unnerve you," said a feminine voice in the darkness.
Treize started. "My God, Une?" he said in disbelief.
"Well, at least you remember my voice," said Une in a cynical tone.
"Why wouldn't I?" countered Treize, struggling a bit against the bonds on his wrists.
"Because you discard people and things so easily," said Une bitterly. "Then forget them, I would assume."
"No," said Treize, "What makes you say that? Une, are you with these men? Whatever for?"
Une laughed hollowly. "Even now, you haven't a clue, do you?"
"I don't," said Treize in a bewildered tone. "Why would you want to hurt us, to hurt me?"
"God, you really are arrogant beyond all belief, you know that?" she said, pulling off her watch cap and kneeling down by him.
"Yes, I suppose I am," he said quietly. "Because I have no idea why you'd do these things. You're not the woman I remember."
"Oh, but I am the woman you created," hissed Une near his face.
"I gave you everything, my loyalty, my advice, even my friendship for years and my payment was to be cast aside like yesterday's trash."
"I couldn't work with you anymore, Une," he said. "You needed medical help, and I got it for you. I told you if you got better there would be a place for you with me again."
"You had me committed!" she hissed. "I confided in you and you betrayed me!"
"I only wanted to help you," said Treize quietly.
"Liar!" she spat at him.
"If you were in your right mind, you'd know I'm telling you the truth," he said.
"I am in my right mind," she hissed. "I know when I've been betrayed."
"You need help," said Treize.
"I have help," said Une. "Les Noire has given me all the help I need."
"Help to do what?" asked Treize. "Become a terrorist, a criminal?"
She drew back her hand to strike him, but hesitated. "You hate me, don't you?" she asked brokenly.
"No," said Treize. "I never did."
She stared at him in the gloom.
"Une!" barked Marron. "Enough of this banter. They're secure. Contact Reynaud and inform him that the hostages are secure."
"I thought were gonna get rid of this one," said McGuire, nudging an unconscious Zechs with the toe of his boot.
"Change of plans," said Marron smoothly. "The goose is going to lay the golden egg before we cook him."
"Whatever," said McGuire, in a clipped tone. "I don't like it when I'm not in on all the details."
"You'll get what we agreed to," said Marron. "That's all you need be concerned about."
"They won't give you anything for him if he's dead," said Treize. "Let me make sure he's all right."
Marron looked at him for a moment. "Okay, I'll untie you. Do one thing I don't like and you can join your boyfriend in blessed unconsciousness."
He reached down and unlocked the leather shackles on Trieze's wrists.
"Thank you," said Treize calmly. He slid over on the floor and touched Zech's face.
"Mil," he said gently. "Can you hear me?"
Zechs stirred a little. "I'm going to make sure your wounds aren't bleeding, I'll try not to hurt you."
"I need some light," said Treize. Marron switched on a flashlight, making them all blink in the harsh light.
Zech's face was pale in the unnatural light, but his eyelids fluttered. "Treize," he mumbled.
"Yes, I'm here," said Treize soothingly. "You were shot, but the bullet seems to have missed anything vital," he said, checking the impromptu first aid that had been applied to Zech's side.
"Hurts," mumbled Zechs. Relena bit her lip, but refused to sob. Trowa leaned over and whispered something to her, and she nodded.
"I know," said Treize. "But you're going to be all right," he said.
"Satisfied your amour isn't going to die?" asked Marron snidely.
Treize nodded. "Yes," he said simply. "Thank you."
"You're a polite bastard, I'll give you that," said Marron.
"I'll need your wrists again," said Marron. "But, I'll be a nice guy and let you stay next to the pretty one here, all right?"
Treize nodded wordlessly and offered his wrists.
"That's a good boy," said Marron mockingly. "Play nice and I'll make sure that he lives. You're smart to cooperate." He locked the cuffs back onto the offered wrists.
The darkness was interrupted by a faint burst of static.
"Hello? Can anyone hear me? My name is Quatre Raberba Winner, and I'd like to talk to whoever's in charge."
Trowa's head jerked at the familiar voice. "No," he whispered to himself.
Marron pushed a button on his own radio. "I'm in charge here," he said. "How do I know you are who you say you are?"
"You don't," said Quatre. "But, my signature is on the register in the lobby, and it'd be an easy matter for my family to identify it. They'll verify I'm here on vacation."
"What are you offering?" asked Marron, licking his lips.
"Money," said Quatre simply. "What else? In return for the lives of my friends."
"I see," said Marron thoughtfully. He cut the connection and chuckled.
"Well, it seems we have providence on our side this evening," he said to Une, grinning. "Two golden geese."
"Reynaud would be pleased to know that the sole male heir of the Winner fortune has also found his way into our hands."
"If he is who he says he is," said Une.
"Why would he lie about such a thing?" said Marron.
"If some of these folks we have trussed up are his buddies, they'll know," said Slim finally speaking.
"Ah, finally an intelligent suggestion from our lanky friend here," said Marron.
"Estevez," said McGuire, suddenly. "Ask him if he's seen Estevez. They must have his radio."
Marron's eyes narrowed, "Ah oui, we do seem to be missing our Cuban friend," he said.
He thumbed on the radio. "Monsieur Winner, perhaps you might know the whereabouts of one of our party?"
"He's dead," said a voice, unmistakably Wufei's. Heero exhaled quietly as did Trowa, relieved.
"And to whom do I have the pleasure of talking to now?" asked Marron with exaggerated politeness.
"Chang Wufei," said Wufei coolly.
"Monsieur Chang," said Marron. "Should I know your name?"
"He's some movie guy," blurted out Slim, earning him a silencing look from Une.
"Yes," said Wufei. "It's the last name you'll think of before you die."
"Ah, Monsieur Chang believes this is a movie. He gives me the hero's line to the bad guy." Marron chuckled.
"I don't do lines." Wufei's voice came clearly over the radio. "Only action."
"I want to talk to Monsieur Winner," said Marron, sounding irritated.
"I'm here," said Quatre.
"I think perhaps you are more reasonable than your friend," said Marron. "Make your deal with me."
"I'll give you my sister Layla's private phone number and you can call her," said Quatre. "State your terms to her. She's the acting head of Winner Enterprises. Then, let me talk to her, and you can have whatever you want if you let us all go."
"You are direct, Monsieur Winner."
"I try," said Quatre.
"I have terms of my own," said Marron. "Turn yourself over to me, and then we call your sister, and she will know if you are who you claim to be and if you are worth anything to me."
"No!" said Trowa, "Don't do it Quatre!" he yelled.
"Ah, I think I have found one of your friends," said Marron, motioning to Slim. Slim yanked Trowa up by his bound hands and pushed him toward Marron.
"Well, at least we know you're no doubt who you say your are, Monsieur Winner," said Marron. "Thank you for that, Monsieur..?"
"Tu es un cochon," spat Trowa.
"Always good to talk to a fellow countryman," said Marron, dark eyes glinting with amusement.
"Trowa?" asked Quatre's voice over the radio.
"I think he wants to speak with you, Monsieur Trowa," said Marron.
"I'm here," said Trowa, giving Marron a dark look.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" asked Trowa in a harsh whisper.
"I'm trying to get us all out of this mess," said Quatre.
"By sacrificing yourself?" asked Trowa incredulously.
"No," said Quatre, his voice pleading for understanding. "It's only money."
"Don't give this piece of filth anything!" hissed Trowa. "Least of all yourself. Just get out of here while you still can."
"Ah, il est tres brave, votre ami," said Marron, pulling the radio away from Trowa's face.
"I can't do that," said Quatre's voice sadly over the connection. "You'll just have to forgive me, Tro."
Trowa was pushed down onto one of the sofas by Slim. "Ah, I think he's gonna cry," said Slim, peering down at Trowa's face.
Trowa bit his lip and said nothing, averting his face.
"Are you prepared to surrender yourself to me, Winner?" asked Marron coldly.
"Yes," said Quatre, "But only as an exchange. I want you to let Trowa Barton, Heero Yuy, and Duo Maxwell go in return. They're of no value to you anyway, and will only hinder your escape."
"True," conceded Marron. "Very well, I'll let them go. Start walking up the stairs and I'll send them down at the same time."
"I want to see them first," said Quatre.
"Very well," said Marron in an annoyed tone. "McGuire, take these three gentlemen and show them the door." He pointed at Trowa, Heero and Duo.
"Can you get up, koi?" asked Heero.
"To get out of here I can run a fucking marathon," grunted Duo as he staggered to his feet. He leaned heavily against Heero, panting.
"I'm not going," said Trowa, shaking his head. "I'm staying with Quatre."
"Don't be stupid!" Heero grated at him.
"I don't care," said Trowa stubbornly. "I'm not leaving him."
"You're officially the biggest idiot ever born," said Heero.
"Just get the hell out of here," said Trowa quietly. "Tell Quatre I'm waiting for him."
"You're sure?" asked Duo, his eyes filling with tears of both pain and sadness.
"Yeah," said Trowa, looking away. "Go."
Heero held out his hands. "Untie my hands," he said to McGuire.
McGuire sneered. "We'll play later," he said menacingly to Heero, taking a knife and roughly cutting the makeshift cloth strips that had been used to bind his hands.
Heero put his arm around Duo and held him up. "Come on koi, we're leaving."
McGuire opened on of the battered doors, looking around into the gloom.
"He's coming," he said to Marron. Quatre's lone figure was coming up the staircase.
McGuire shoved the barrel of his gun into Heero's back. "Go down slow, and don't try anything. And don't call the cops, because your friend's lives won't be worth a damn if we see cops."
Heero began to walk to the top of the staircase, following the dimming light of the flashlight that McGuire held on them.
Almost halfway up the staircase, they passed Quatre, who was looking resolutely forward.
"He wouldn't come with us," said Heero in a low voice as he helped Duo down the stairs. "He's waiting for you."
"I know," said Quatre softly. "It's all right."
They passed, not pausing.
"Sorry," rasped Duo to no one in particular.
"Over here!" Wufei motioned to him from behind the reception counter where he still hid.
They limped over.
"Duo's hurt," said Heero, setting him down gently. "Bullet wound to the left upper arm. I think it's broken."
"We need to get him out of here," said Wufei. "But, I can't leave Quatre and Trowa."
"I'm okay," said Duo. "It doesn't hurt so bad anymore."
"That's not always a good sign," said Heero. "I'm getting you out of here, but Wufei and I are going to come back and do what we can."
"I had Sally call the police," said Wufei. "Although I have no idea of when they'll be here."
"If our friends upstairs have any notion the police are coming, they'll kill everyone just to get away," said Heero grimly.
"I know, but we can't do this on our own Heero," hissed Wufei. "This isn't the goddam war and we don't have a goddam tank!"
"I don't need a tank, Wufei," said Heero. "Just a chance to take out four gun-toting maniacs."
"We need to get out of here, then we can plan what we're going to do next," said Wufei.
"And Duo needs a hospital," said Heero.
"I left Duo's car parked outside and down the hill," said Heero. "We're going to drive him to Sally's and call an ambulance for Duo."
Wufie cautiously stood up. "No one watching us, I think they really intended to let us go," said Wufei.
"Keep down in case that lunatic upstairs changes his mind."
With Duo supported between them, they crept to the kitchen door and made their way outside.
TBC