Title: Exercising an Option
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairings: 13+6, 1+2, 3+4, 5+S Warnings: Violence, Shounen-ai, AU, Citrus, some chapters
Rating: R
Archived: FF.net, SDQB, GWFF, S_E Updates
Chapter 24
"Excuse me, I need to check on my son and see if Wufei is all right," said Sally, leaving Layton sitting in the living room.
"The local FBI ought to be showin' up here in a bit," said Layton. "I gave them your address and told 'em I'd be here questioning you."
"Let them in when they come," said Sally, nodding.
"All right ma'am," said Layton, crossing his legs and settling back in his chair for what was going to be a long night.
Sally went down the hallway and first opened Matt's door to see if he was sleeping soundly. He was clutching the ratty blanket and his face was flushed and innocent in repose. She felt a wave of protectiveness looking at him.
"I hope none of this is affecting him," came Wufei's voice from behind her.
"No, he's sleeping like a baby," said Sally. "God, don't tell him I said that."
"I won't," he said, slipping his arms around her from behind.
His hair was still damp from the shower and the frightening smell of blood and fear was washed away. She pulled him closer and buried her face in his neck.
"My friends are still in danger," said Wufei. "I have to do something. And Treize and Zechs are being held too. Who knows who else? If they're wounded or even dead? I have to do something."
"The FBI will be here soon, they know how to deal with these kind of people, don't they?" asked Sally.
"I hope so," said Wufei. "I'll help them anyway I can. I'm sure Heero and Duo feel the same."
"I hope Duo is all right," said Sally, biting her lip.
"He's lost blood, but he'll be fine," said Wufei. "Heero is with him. He won't let anything happen to him." Wufei recalled the look of grim determination on Heero's face with satisfaction.
"I'm sorry about your friends, Quatre and Trowa," said Sally. "You must be insane with worry."
"I still can't believe that Quatre traded himself," muttered Wufei shaking his head.
"He must be very brave," said Sally.
"Come on into my room, you need to try to rest a minute if you can," she said, opening the door to the bedroom and pulling him inside.
"At least you can lie down a few minutes before the agents get here."
He nodded reluctantly. He was wearing a bathrobe he'd left there and nothing else, carrying the clean t-shirt she'd given him earlier.
"I need some clothes," he said, sitting on the bed and rubbing his temples wearily.
"I'll get you some in a moment," Sally said, sitting down behind him and beginning to rub the back of his neck in a soothing fashion. He exhaled noisily and leaned against her.
"You don't have to tell me what happened now," she said. "But I think at some point it will help if you do."
"It's been a long time since I've had to kill anyone," he said quietly, as a small shudder ran through him.
Sally gasped and stiffened, but then resumed rubbing his shoulders. "You did what you had to do to stay alive," she said firmly.
"I've lost one good man, I won't loose you," she said, pressing her forehead against his back. "I don't think I could take it. Not when we've just found each other. And then there's Matt. He loves you. You know he asked me if you're going to be his dad now?" Sally swallowed hard.
"My God," said Wufei, reaching around and pulling her into his lap.
"When I was fighting, all I could think of was staying alive so I could see you and Matt again. Your faces," he said softly against her hair.
"You need to lie down," she said, pushing him back on the bed.
"Stay with me and I will," he said, pulling her down next to him and wrapping his arms around her.
"Just rest now, you're safe," she said, stroking his hair until he closed his eyes and finally, his breathing became even as he lay in her arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Contact Reynaud," said Marron to Une, who pulled out a satellite phone from the small pack on her back. "Inform him of the changes in plan." Marron gazed at Quatre, still bound on the sofa next to Trowa and raised a speculative brow.
Une nodded, walking away to dial in a series of numbers.
Conversing in a low voice for several minutes, she finally turned and offered Marron the phone.
"He wishes to speak to you," she said quietly.
Marron listened intently for a few moments. "Yes, he's the Winner heir. It seems that we have been fortunate enough to have another one of your enemies at our disposal, Sir," he said in French.
Quatre looked questioningly at Trowa in the low light, able to tell he was listening.
"Did I hear my name?" whispered Quatre and Trowa nodded slightly.
"Our leader wishes to speak with you," said Marron, finally, coming over and holding the phone to his ear so that Quatre could hear.
"Do nothing unless you are instructed to," said Marron severely. "Say or do the wrong thing and I will gut your friend here in a heartbeat."
Quatre swallowed and nodded. "I understand."
"Well, Monsieur Winner, I finally have the honor of addressing you in person," said Reynaud's voice over the satellite telephone. "You may speak, Marron won't do anything to your friend unless I order it."
"You have the advantage of me," said Quatre carefully.
"You may call me Mr. Fox," said Reynaud silkily.
"All right, Mr. Fox. I take it you've been informed I wish to offer a ransom for our release."
"Yes, and I must say your offer interests me. After all, taking the ill- gotten gain of those who are destroying our world seems only fair. I will put it to much better use."
"I'm not the head of Winner Enterprises, my sister Laylah is," said Quatre. "But I'm sure she will offer you anything you wish to free me and my companions."
"Well, Monsieur Winner, I will contact your dear sister. And I'm sure she will be most eager to have her beloved brother back. But as for the others there, well, I cannot guarantee anything."
"Peacecraft Industries will make a similar deal for the release of Zechs and his sister, I'm positive," said Quatre.
"Ah, but there's where you are wrong," said Reynaud in a tone of mock regret. "I have not been able to secure their cooperation in this matter. It seems the authorities in Britain have a different attitude about dealing with situations such as this. I've given them 24 hours, but I'm afraid you may be saying farewell to Monsieur Peacecraft and his sister. C'est domage, n'est-ce pas?*"
"NO!" said Quatre involuntarily looking over where Zechs was lying pale and still on one of the other sofas, bound around his waist in seeping bandages. Relena was casting a fearful look over at Quatre from her place at his feet, and Treize had an air of artificially imposed ease over his obvious tension.
"I'm sorry, but that is the way it is," said Reynaud lightly. "C'est la guerre," he said. "And do not make the mistake of thinking this is any less than a war," he said, the silkiness now gone from his tone in a flash. "I am here to make war on those who make war with our planet," his tone rising to a fever pitch.
"And so you will kill these innocent people just to make your point?" asked Quatre in a cold tone.
"They are not innocent!" said Reynaud, now strident. "You are not innocent, Monsieur Winner. It is by raping the land that you and your family have acquired your fortune. I cannot let that go unpunished!"
"But you're willing to take my family's money," said Quatre levelly.
"Yes, for I know that is what is most important to you," said Reynaud, back to his former silky tone.
"You're wrong, at least in my case," said Quatre. "I'd give you every penny for the life of my friends, and my lover. But, that's not up to me. I gave up my right to be CEO of Winner Enterprises and the money that went with it. I receive nothing from Winner Enterprises. Nothing!"
"How commendable," said Reynaud sneeringly. "And believe me, I know this. Why do you think you are still alive, Mr. Winner?"
"Then why harm Zechs and Relena?" Quatre asked him quietly. "They've done nothing, and their parents are dead. None of us can choose our parents, or our circumstances in life."
Trowa looked over at him, realizing he was thinking of other things. How ironic that the very things his love had given up so painfully were now coming back to haunt him.
"That is not my problem," said Reynaud harshly. "It is yours. I'll be saying au revoir for now, Monsieur Winner," he said, his tone silken again.
Quatre looked up at Marron. "He's hung up," he said to the bald man.
"I heard," said Marron shortly.
"Your employer is a bit of a nutcase, isn't he?" muttered Trowa.
To his surprise, Marron merely laughed. "Yes, but he's a nutcase that pays me very, very well."
"So, it's the money you're mainly interested in," said Quatre.
"What else?" asked Marron flippantly, shrugging. "We all know that is the real power in this world."
"If that's true, then why do you exist upon Reynaud's leftovers?" asked Quatre, gazing at him speculatively.
"Because leftovers are better than being dead," replied Marron shortly. "Reynaud is not tolerant of traitors in his midst."
The shaven hawkish man absently fingered the long scar on his arm.
"You know eventually Reynaud will be caught," pressed Quatre. "Even now Interpol is gaining on him in Brittany."
"So, you do read the news," said Marron. "Yes, Reynaud is sometimes.overzealous in his mission. Some of my men have been caught." This was said reluctantly.
"I'd think you'd want to be more than the errand boy of a psychotic," said Quatre with a slight tone of disdain in his voice.
"Enough!" said Marron fiercely. "I need to think."
He strode off to stand next to Une, putting their heads together and conversing in a low tone. Slim inserted a wad of tobacco lazily into his cheek and stood there smirking at them. McGuire shifted uneasily at the door, still standing guard.
"What are you doing?" asked Trowa in an almost inaudible whisper.
"Putting doubts in Marron's mind," said Quatre in the same tone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, your friend lost a good amount of blood, but not enough to worry about," said the doctor at the emergency room to Heero.
"He's up in surgery getting that arm pinned back together, and in a few days, he'll be good as new."
"Thank you," said Heero, sitting back on the sofa in the waiting room, holding a now cold cup of coffee. Hilde was across the waiting room on the phone and came back over to sit next to him.
"I called Sally, she says the FBI is there now, and they're questioning Wufei. They're wanting to question you too, Heero. I updated them on Duo's condition."
"Whatever," said Heero quietly, drinking the coffee and grimacing a bit.
"Thank you for getting him out of there," said Hilde softly, putting a hand tentatively on his arm.
"I almost got him killed," said Heero, crumpling and throwing down the paper cup in disgust. "I'm a total idiot."
"I don't think Duo feels that way," said Hilde. "All he could say to me before they took him to surgery is how much he loves you and how brave you are. He's alive, that's all I care about. Have you had those bruises looked at?" She reached up to touch his face and pulled her hand back at his brooding expression.
"It's nothing that some ice won't take care of," he finally said.
"I'll ask the nurse for some," said Hilde, getting up and walking over to the nurse's station.
Heero watched her go and then looked down and sighed heavily, lying his head against the arm of the sofa and closing his eyes. "Duo," he said, as he clenched his hand around nothing. "Forgive me, Duo."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wufei sat blinking his eyes, trying to clear his head, and gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from Sally.
The two FBI agents sat across from him at the kitchen table, note pads out.
One was an older man with prematurely graying hair, curly who looked like he might have played football when he was younger, judging from his build and a nose that had been obviously broken badly at some point.
The other officer was female, late twenties, Wufei guessed, looking at her. She was angular and lanky, with a mannishly short blond haircut that actually looked good with her handsome squarish features and tall, athletic build.
"I'm Agent Nat Morris," said the woman, holding out strong looking hand.
"Nat?" asked Sally, sitting down with her own cup of coffee. The agents were also nursing some of the steaming brew.
"Short for Natalie," said Morris. "Everyone calls me Nat. And this is Agent Bill Hastings, my superior."
Wufei nodded his head in silent acknowledgment.
"You and Mr. Yuy are our only witnesses to the situation at Green Mountain Spa," said Hastings, taking a sip of his scalding coffee. "I'll need to ask you to be as forthcoming as possible."
"I have no reason not to be," said Wufei, gazing steadily at Hastings.
"Sheriff Layton said you believe there were at least 3 individuals holding hostages at the inn," said Hastings. "Including the owner and his partner."
"Yes," said Wufei. "I can only assume, because that is where they're holding the hostages, in Mr. Kushrenada and Mr. Merquise's apartment."
"Layton says you admit to killing one of the kidnappers."
"I did," said Wufei. "In self-defense. He had gun and was hunting myself and Winner."
"And you say that Mr. Quatre Winner, your manager traded himself to the kidnappers in exchange for two of the hostages. Mr. Yuy and Mr. Maxwell."
"Yes," said Wufei somberly. "He offered himself for Mr. Barton too, but he did not come down with the others. Either he chose not to come, or was wounded too badly to come down or he is dead." Wufei swallowed hard and blinked, and took a swallow of his coffee.
"Mr. Barton is an employee of yours also?" asked Hastings carefully.
"Yes, and he is one of my closest friends, as is Mr. Winner. This was supposed to be their vacation." Wufei clenched his hand around his cup.
"Why did Mr. Winner offer himself to the kidnappers?" asked Morris, asking a question for the first time.
"Trowa is his significant other, I believe is the phrase you would use," said Wufei, frowning around the awkward term. "They've been together for 4 years. Also, he felt the kidnappers would gladly exchange one of the heirs of the Winner fortune for a few unknowns who just happened to wander onto the scene."
"Crazy," said Hastings, shaking his head. "Your friend is either crazier than a shit house rat or one brave son of a bitch. Excuse my French," he said, looking at Sally, who waved her hand in a dismissive fashion.
"I've always thought he was a bit of both," said Wufei, a grim smile flitting across his features.
"Now, what are we going to do to get him and the others out of there?" Wufei asked, looking Hastings squarely in the eye.
"Working on it," said Hastings. "Morris here is a trained negotiator and a good one. We'll do what we can the easy way, and if things get rough, we'll have plenty of back up here by morning. If kidnapping is the game, we can't really do much until we know their demands."
Morris' phone rang and she went into the living room to answer it. Hastings took a long drink of his coffee and waited.
After a few moments, Morris came back.
"That was from our headquarters in L.A.," said Morris. "Laylah Winner has been contacted by a man representing Les Noire with ransom demands. Also, we have word from Interpol that similar demands have been placed with Peacecraft Industries Paris and London headquarters in regard to Mr. Merquise and Relena Darlian, who apparently is his younger sister. They have not responded to the ransom demands."
"Typical," said Hastings. "They pretty much have a no concessions to terrorist policy in Europe these days."
"What are you going to do?" asked Wufei regarding them out of piercing dark eyes.
"Whatever we can, Mr. Chang," said Hastings. "Whatever we can."
TBC
* "Too bad, isn't it?"
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairings: 13+6, 1+2, 3+4, 5+S Warnings: Violence, Shounen-ai, AU, Citrus, some chapters
Rating: R
Archived: FF.net, SDQB, GWFF, S_E Updates
Chapter 24
"Excuse me, I need to check on my son and see if Wufei is all right," said Sally, leaving Layton sitting in the living room.
"The local FBI ought to be showin' up here in a bit," said Layton. "I gave them your address and told 'em I'd be here questioning you."
"Let them in when they come," said Sally, nodding.
"All right ma'am," said Layton, crossing his legs and settling back in his chair for what was going to be a long night.
Sally went down the hallway and first opened Matt's door to see if he was sleeping soundly. He was clutching the ratty blanket and his face was flushed and innocent in repose. She felt a wave of protectiveness looking at him.
"I hope none of this is affecting him," came Wufei's voice from behind her.
"No, he's sleeping like a baby," said Sally. "God, don't tell him I said that."
"I won't," he said, slipping his arms around her from behind.
His hair was still damp from the shower and the frightening smell of blood and fear was washed away. She pulled him closer and buried her face in his neck.
"My friends are still in danger," said Wufei. "I have to do something. And Treize and Zechs are being held too. Who knows who else? If they're wounded or even dead? I have to do something."
"The FBI will be here soon, they know how to deal with these kind of people, don't they?" asked Sally.
"I hope so," said Wufei. "I'll help them anyway I can. I'm sure Heero and Duo feel the same."
"I hope Duo is all right," said Sally, biting her lip.
"He's lost blood, but he'll be fine," said Wufei. "Heero is with him. He won't let anything happen to him." Wufei recalled the look of grim determination on Heero's face with satisfaction.
"I'm sorry about your friends, Quatre and Trowa," said Sally. "You must be insane with worry."
"I still can't believe that Quatre traded himself," muttered Wufei shaking his head.
"He must be very brave," said Sally.
"Come on into my room, you need to try to rest a minute if you can," she said, opening the door to the bedroom and pulling him inside.
"At least you can lie down a few minutes before the agents get here."
He nodded reluctantly. He was wearing a bathrobe he'd left there and nothing else, carrying the clean t-shirt she'd given him earlier.
"I need some clothes," he said, sitting on the bed and rubbing his temples wearily.
"I'll get you some in a moment," Sally said, sitting down behind him and beginning to rub the back of his neck in a soothing fashion. He exhaled noisily and leaned against her.
"You don't have to tell me what happened now," she said. "But I think at some point it will help if you do."
"It's been a long time since I've had to kill anyone," he said quietly, as a small shudder ran through him.
Sally gasped and stiffened, but then resumed rubbing his shoulders. "You did what you had to do to stay alive," she said firmly.
"I've lost one good man, I won't loose you," she said, pressing her forehead against his back. "I don't think I could take it. Not when we've just found each other. And then there's Matt. He loves you. You know he asked me if you're going to be his dad now?" Sally swallowed hard.
"My God," said Wufei, reaching around and pulling her into his lap.
"When I was fighting, all I could think of was staying alive so I could see you and Matt again. Your faces," he said softly against her hair.
"You need to lie down," she said, pushing him back on the bed.
"Stay with me and I will," he said, pulling her down next to him and wrapping his arms around her.
"Just rest now, you're safe," she said, stroking his hair until he closed his eyes and finally, his breathing became even as he lay in her arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Contact Reynaud," said Marron to Une, who pulled out a satellite phone from the small pack on her back. "Inform him of the changes in plan." Marron gazed at Quatre, still bound on the sofa next to Trowa and raised a speculative brow.
Une nodded, walking away to dial in a series of numbers.
Conversing in a low voice for several minutes, she finally turned and offered Marron the phone.
"He wishes to speak to you," she said quietly.
Marron listened intently for a few moments. "Yes, he's the Winner heir. It seems that we have been fortunate enough to have another one of your enemies at our disposal, Sir," he said in French.
Quatre looked questioningly at Trowa in the low light, able to tell he was listening.
"Did I hear my name?" whispered Quatre and Trowa nodded slightly.
"Our leader wishes to speak with you," said Marron, finally, coming over and holding the phone to his ear so that Quatre could hear.
"Do nothing unless you are instructed to," said Marron severely. "Say or do the wrong thing and I will gut your friend here in a heartbeat."
Quatre swallowed and nodded. "I understand."
"Well, Monsieur Winner, I finally have the honor of addressing you in person," said Reynaud's voice over the satellite telephone. "You may speak, Marron won't do anything to your friend unless I order it."
"You have the advantage of me," said Quatre carefully.
"You may call me Mr. Fox," said Reynaud silkily.
"All right, Mr. Fox. I take it you've been informed I wish to offer a ransom for our release."
"Yes, and I must say your offer interests me. After all, taking the ill- gotten gain of those who are destroying our world seems only fair. I will put it to much better use."
"I'm not the head of Winner Enterprises, my sister Laylah is," said Quatre. "But I'm sure she will offer you anything you wish to free me and my companions."
"Well, Monsieur Winner, I will contact your dear sister. And I'm sure she will be most eager to have her beloved brother back. But as for the others there, well, I cannot guarantee anything."
"Peacecraft Industries will make a similar deal for the release of Zechs and his sister, I'm positive," said Quatre.
"Ah, but there's where you are wrong," said Reynaud in a tone of mock regret. "I have not been able to secure their cooperation in this matter. It seems the authorities in Britain have a different attitude about dealing with situations such as this. I've given them 24 hours, but I'm afraid you may be saying farewell to Monsieur Peacecraft and his sister. C'est domage, n'est-ce pas?*"
"NO!" said Quatre involuntarily looking over where Zechs was lying pale and still on one of the other sofas, bound around his waist in seeping bandages. Relena was casting a fearful look over at Quatre from her place at his feet, and Treize had an air of artificially imposed ease over his obvious tension.
"I'm sorry, but that is the way it is," said Reynaud lightly. "C'est la guerre," he said. "And do not make the mistake of thinking this is any less than a war," he said, the silkiness now gone from his tone in a flash. "I am here to make war on those who make war with our planet," his tone rising to a fever pitch.
"And so you will kill these innocent people just to make your point?" asked Quatre in a cold tone.
"They are not innocent!" said Reynaud, now strident. "You are not innocent, Monsieur Winner. It is by raping the land that you and your family have acquired your fortune. I cannot let that go unpunished!"
"But you're willing to take my family's money," said Quatre levelly.
"Yes, for I know that is what is most important to you," said Reynaud, back to his former silky tone.
"You're wrong, at least in my case," said Quatre. "I'd give you every penny for the life of my friends, and my lover. But, that's not up to me. I gave up my right to be CEO of Winner Enterprises and the money that went with it. I receive nothing from Winner Enterprises. Nothing!"
"How commendable," said Reynaud sneeringly. "And believe me, I know this. Why do you think you are still alive, Mr. Winner?"
"Then why harm Zechs and Relena?" Quatre asked him quietly. "They've done nothing, and their parents are dead. None of us can choose our parents, or our circumstances in life."
Trowa looked over at him, realizing he was thinking of other things. How ironic that the very things his love had given up so painfully were now coming back to haunt him.
"That is not my problem," said Reynaud harshly. "It is yours. I'll be saying au revoir for now, Monsieur Winner," he said, his tone silken again.
Quatre looked up at Marron. "He's hung up," he said to the bald man.
"I heard," said Marron shortly.
"Your employer is a bit of a nutcase, isn't he?" muttered Trowa.
To his surprise, Marron merely laughed. "Yes, but he's a nutcase that pays me very, very well."
"So, it's the money you're mainly interested in," said Quatre.
"What else?" asked Marron flippantly, shrugging. "We all know that is the real power in this world."
"If that's true, then why do you exist upon Reynaud's leftovers?" asked Quatre, gazing at him speculatively.
"Because leftovers are better than being dead," replied Marron shortly. "Reynaud is not tolerant of traitors in his midst."
The shaven hawkish man absently fingered the long scar on his arm.
"You know eventually Reynaud will be caught," pressed Quatre. "Even now Interpol is gaining on him in Brittany."
"So, you do read the news," said Marron. "Yes, Reynaud is sometimes.overzealous in his mission. Some of my men have been caught." This was said reluctantly.
"I'd think you'd want to be more than the errand boy of a psychotic," said Quatre with a slight tone of disdain in his voice.
"Enough!" said Marron fiercely. "I need to think."
He strode off to stand next to Une, putting their heads together and conversing in a low tone. Slim inserted a wad of tobacco lazily into his cheek and stood there smirking at them. McGuire shifted uneasily at the door, still standing guard.
"What are you doing?" asked Trowa in an almost inaudible whisper.
"Putting doubts in Marron's mind," said Quatre in the same tone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, your friend lost a good amount of blood, but not enough to worry about," said the doctor at the emergency room to Heero.
"He's up in surgery getting that arm pinned back together, and in a few days, he'll be good as new."
"Thank you," said Heero, sitting back on the sofa in the waiting room, holding a now cold cup of coffee. Hilde was across the waiting room on the phone and came back over to sit next to him.
"I called Sally, she says the FBI is there now, and they're questioning Wufei. They're wanting to question you too, Heero. I updated them on Duo's condition."
"Whatever," said Heero quietly, drinking the coffee and grimacing a bit.
"Thank you for getting him out of there," said Hilde softly, putting a hand tentatively on his arm.
"I almost got him killed," said Heero, crumpling and throwing down the paper cup in disgust. "I'm a total idiot."
"I don't think Duo feels that way," said Hilde. "All he could say to me before they took him to surgery is how much he loves you and how brave you are. He's alive, that's all I care about. Have you had those bruises looked at?" She reached up to touch his face and pulled her hand back at his brooding expression.
"It's nothing that some ice won't take care of," he finally said.
"I'll ask the nurse for some," said Hilde, getting up and walking over to the nurse's station.
Heero watched her go and then looked down and sighed heavily, lying his head against the arm of the sofa and closing his eyes. "Duo," he said, as he clenched his hand around nothing. "Forgive me, Duo."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wufei sat blinking his eyes, trying to clear his head, and gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from Sally.
The two FBI agents sat across from him at the kitchen table, note pads out.
One was an older man with prematurely graying hair, curly who looked like he might have played football when he was younger, judging from his build and a nose that had been obviously broken badly at some point.
The other officer was female, late twenties, Wufei guessed, looking at her. She was angular and lanky, with a mannishly short blond haircut that actually looked good with her handsome squarish features and tall, athletic build.
"I'm Agent Nat Morris," said the woman, holding out strong looking hand.
"Nat?" asked Sally, sitting down with her own cup of coffee. The agents were also nursing some of the steaming brew.
"Short for Natalie," said Morris. "Everyone calls me Nat. And this is Agent Bill Hastings, my superior."
Wufei nodded his head in silent acknowledgment.
"You and Mr. Yuy are our only witnesses to the situation at Green Mountain Spa," said Hastings, taking a sip of his scalding coffee. "I'll need to ask you to be as forthcoming as possible."
"I have no reason not to be," said Wufei, gazing steadily at Hastings.
"Sheriff Layton said you believe there were at least 3 individuals holding hostages at the inn," said Hastings. "Including the owner and his partner."
"Yes," said Wufei. "I can only assume, because that is where they're holding the hostages, in Mr. Kushrenada and Mr. Merquise's apartment."
"Layton says you admit to killing one of the kidnappers."
"I did," said Wufei. "In self-defense. He had gun and was hunting myself and Winner."
"And you say that Mr. Quatre Winner, your manager traded himself to the kidnappers in exchange for two of the hostages. Mr. Yuy and Mr. Maxwell."
"Yes," said Wufei somberly. "He offered himself for Mr. Barton too, but he did not come down with the others. Either he chose not to come, or was wounded too badly to come down or he is dead." Wufei swallowed hard and blinked, and took a swallow of his coffee.
"Mr. Barton is an employee of yours also?" asked Hastings carefully.
"Yes, and he is one of my closest friends, as is Mr. Winner. This was supposed to be their vacation." Wufei clenched his hand around his cup.
"Why did Mr. Winner offer himself to the kidnappers?" asked Morris, asking a question for the first time.
"Trowa is his significant other, I believe is the phrase you would use," said Wufei, frowning around the awkward term. "They've been together for 4 years. Also, he felt the kidnappers would gladly exchange one of the heirs of the Winner fortune for a few unknowns who just happened to wander onto the scene."
"Crazy," said Hastings, shaking his head. "Your friend is either crazier than a shit house rat or one brave son of a bitch. Excuse my French," he said, looking at Sally, who waved her hand in a dismissive fashion.
"I've always thought he was a bit of both," said Wufei, a grim smile flitting across his features.
"Now, what are we going to do to get him and the others out of there?" Wufei asked, looking Hastings squarely in the eye.
"Working on it," said Hastings. "Morris here is a trained negotiator and a good one. We'll do what we can the easy way, and if things get rough, we'll have plenty of back up here by morning. If kidnapping is the game, we can't really do much until we know their demands."
Morris' phone rang and she went into the living room to answer it. Hastings took a long drink of his coffee and waited.
After a few moments, Morris came back.
"That was from our headquarters in L.A.," said Morris. "Laylah Winner has been contacted by a man representing Les Noire with ransom demands. Also, we have word from Interpol that similar demands have been placed with Peacecraft Industries Paris and London headquarters in regard to Mr. Merquise and Relena Darlian, who apparently is his younger sister. They have not responded to the ransom demands."
"Typical," said Hastings. "They pretty much have a no concessions to terrorist policy in Europe these days."
"What are you going to do?" asked Wufei regarding them out of piercing dark eyes.
"Whatever we can, Mr. Chang," said Hastings. "Whatever we can."
TBC
* "Too bad, isn't it?"