Until midnight. Until midnight. Until midnight… a little voice in George's head chanted, driving him from one motel to another, to owners of rented property, and disreputable places where he got into more than one fight merely trying to leave.
It was 9:00 when he contacted the rest of the Shuffle Alliance, who had agreed to help him. Their tired, discouraged faces told him their results before any of them opened their mouths.
"What about Asherah? Did she tell you anything?"
George shook his red head. "Nothing more than I have already shared with you; I tried to contact her again, but failed."
"Maybe we should try Earth." Rain suggested somewhat hesitantly.
"The people there hate us." Shirley reminded her.
"I know, but what else can we do?" Rain asked helplessly.
"Asherah's been working down there anyway. She told me that things have calmed down a little bit. A very little bit, but…" Chibodee trailed off when he saw the others looking at him. "What?"
"When did she talk to you?" Nastasha inquired.
"I dunno, a few days after-" he waved his hand dismissively- "that 13th- and- a- half Tournament."
"What'd she say?" Bunny wanted to know.
Chibodee's posture tensed defensively. "I don't know, just stuff! She was telling me that she's refining her network of contacts on Earth, and trying to get them to help out with good relations with the colonies and all that…"
George coughed discreetly.
"Enough digression. Back to business!" Nastasha barked.
"Let's go to Earth." George decided. "We can search in our respective homelands."
*
It was 10:45, and George's stalwart heart was growing discouraged. Sighing, he prepared his corelander to go to the next place when Bunny called.
"I think we might have something!"
Heart pounding, trying to tell himself not to hope because it probably didn't mean anything, George sped off.
*
Chibodee stared, slack- jawed. "You're here already?"
"Obviously." the Jack of Diamonds didn't- quite- snap, raising a very French eyebrow.
The American snapped his mouth shut and gave his friend a glance out of the corner of his eye- I know why you got here so fast- but in deference to the gravity of the situation, replied only, "We think we might have a warehouse."
"It's 11:50." Shirley tersely informed them.
"The King is probably being taken there as we speak." George murmured, stomach tightening.
Chibodee leapt into his own corelander. "I'll show you where it is."
Heart pounding, hoping with all his being that things would turn out well, George sped after the Queen of Spades.
*
11:55. George thought, and was impressed with Chibodee's speed despite himself. He jumped to the ground, where the group of Americans were waiting for him.
Wordlessly, Chibodee and George strode side by side toward the doors, with Chibodee's crew following.
A testament to what he had learned largely thanks to Asherah, an impressive gout of flame from Chibodee blew the doors open and announced their arrival.
Chibodee and George had just entered the building and were looking around for their adversary when he literally dropped down from the ceiling; the Gundam fighters leapt to either side, barely avoiding him.
Jones whirled. He was wearing the same outfit he'd had on when he tried to assassinate the King; all black, easy to move in, with weapons in almost every available spot, and his face covered by a black mask.
And speaking of the King, there he was, standing just behind Jones, curiously inactive… until one noticed the odd- looking choker Marie- Louise was sporting. A piece of coarse rope was tied rather tightly around her neck, with what looked to be a small box in the hollow of her throat.
Jones noticed where George's eyes were. "Yes, Monsieur de Sand, I'm afraid that the Princess is wearing an explosive. All I have to do is press one button and her head comes off… right in front of dear old Dad." He smiled at the King, whose face couldn't seem to decide whether it wanted to turn red or purple. "And we wouldn't want that to happen, especially after how his Queen died…"
The King made a stifled noise and made a massive effort to restrain himself.
"George…" Marie- Louise quietly acknowledged. You came. As you always do.
"Are you all right, Miss Marie- Louise?" he asked, and there was something in his eyes that she couldn't quite define…
She tossed her head. "Fine." she replied for the second time that night.
Shirley, Bunny, Cath and Janet all started to automatically move toward her, noticing what the men didn't; that slight tremor of fear, the thin, damp nightdress that she was wearing, the way she glanced at her captor and swallowed…
"I wouldn't take another step, ladies." Jones told them, thumb hovering over the button.
"They will not interfere; they merely wish to ensure that the Princess is indeed unharmed." George spoke up swiftly. "Surely you would not want to make an exchange without our being confident that this is indeed the Princess, and that she is relatively unharmed?" Marie- Louise noted the slight, cold stress George placed on "relatively."
Jones hesitated. "Well," he conceded grudgingly, "I don't suppose there's any real harm; that explosive is powerful enough that if I set off the bomb they'd be seriously injured at the least, if they were that close."
Chibodee's teal eyes suddenly acquired a dangerous set, and Domon or his Master would have recognized the protective, bestial glint in them.
Shirley put a hand to his arm. "It doesn't matter."
He started to say something, but her smile silenced him; he didn't say a word as he watched them cross the warehouse and surround the Princess.
Chibodee caught a half- glance from the Frenchman. – What?
"Well, gentlemen, we were in the middle of something before you interrupted…" Jones said pleasantly, holding the detonator in his right hand and raising the gun in his left, aiming it between the King's eyes. "I'd appreciate it- and I'm sure the King would too- if you would disarm yourselves."
Chibodee noticed George's defensive stance, and the hand hovering over his sword; a posture he'd seen Gundam Rose take often, and the memory jogged his realization of what George meant to do. Damn! I hope he can pull this off… Chibodee fisted his hands and shifted into a ready- to- run stance. "So, Jonesie, how much explosive is in that little thing? I think you're bluffing us." he challenged. "That thing's so small, you probably couldn't even take out Marie- Louise, let alone my girls."
"You're showing your ignorance." Jones insulted in a quiet, edgy tone. "There are chemicals sensitive enough that a drop of one combined with a drop of another could blow this entire place sky- high. Of course, such chemicals are extremely expensive, and the ones I managed to procure for the Princess are a little less volatile; nevertheless, they'll get the job done."
Chibodee vanished in answer, reappearing next to Jones; George moved at the same time Chibodee did, heading for the King.
Jones wasn't so slow as Chibodee expected, and the gun fired.
George knew he'd never make it even as he ran as fast as he was able; he didn't have time to think, merely to react. Instinctively, he used the ability that allowed him to control his Rose Bits, and mentally reached for the bullet…
He managed to slow it enough that the King received no more than a shallow scratch on his forehead, and the bullet dropped to the ground at his feet.
George had made it to the King when another gun barked, but this time, he was surprised, and the bullet tore into his shoulder.
"Who?-"
"George!" Marie- Louise cried, unthinkingly running forward. She tripped on the ropes binding her feet, and if not for Cath's quick action would have broken her nose on the hard floor.
Jones' detonator whipped in her direction. "I would advise you to stay where you are, Princess."
Cath set the girl on her feet again, and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. "It's okay; look, it only winged him."
"Please don't move, Miss Marie- Louise." George politely requested.
She made a worried noise, but obediently stayed put, and George searched the shadows for the shooter.
"I thought we agreed that I would handle this." Jones sounded aggravated.
"Frankly, Jones, what I've seen from you has lead me to question not only your ability, but your price."
The King found the second man before George did. "Sarge!"
"That's right." he confirmed, giving the King an eerily emotionless glance.
"Who?" Chibodee inquired, punching at Jones and missing.
"A general in the French Army." George explained. "An extremely high- ranking one."
"French Army…" Chibodee murmured, the corners of his mouth quirking uncontrollably. "I could say something, but I don't think I will…"
Jones snorted, and the two men looked at each other for a minute before Chibodee punched again and Jones blocked and waved the detonator threateningly. Although unfortunately, as Chibodee observed, it came off more like he was shaking a maraca; and with indignantly pink cheeks, Jones aimed his gun and started chasing the Gundam fighter around the warehouse as Chibodee laughed and called him names.
The King's face was grave. "Why?" was all he asked.
"I worked for years in your service." the General began; it almost seemed as though he'd been waiting for this. "I believed the propaganda, all that tripe we're fed from the cradle about the French being an ancient people, about our kingdoms and achievements on old Earth. I revered you as an ideal leader, identified with you as a warrior king. Oh, I was loyal.
"It was right after the Queen died that my absolute faith in you as a leader was shaken. I saw you fall apart. I saw you so depressed that you were unable to care for your daughter, so depressed that you were unable to lead your nation. And although you eventually pulled yourself together, drawing on a reserve of inner strength that I admired, and I told myself that it was good that we had such a man as our King, the seeds of doubt had been planted.
"They sprouted in the weeks after the selection of Neo- France's Gundam fighter. Mirabeau was psychotic, to be sure, but he had proven that he was willing to do anything to win. We needed such a man to win the 13th Tournament, to lead us to victory, to not only earn the right to rule all space but also to prove to the other nations that we are strong! Our world is based on strength, and winning the Gundam fight would have given us a measure of respect- and therefore, some small measure of protection- in years to come. But instead of rewarding Mirabeau's dedication, you imprisoned him, and gave the prize to a foolish self- styled knight.
"I watched you, watched your respect for George de Sand's idiotic sense of honor grow, saw you beginning to like the boy more and more until he was almost like a son to you. Our world is based on strength, and instead you were preoccupied with honor. You failed the nation and people of Neo- France.
"I believe in Neo- France, and believe in her people. Despite it all, I still believe that propaganda… I think it somehow seeped into my bones. You failed our nation. I would not. For the sake of the country I love, I will be her King."
There was a moment of silence before a clear voice rang out. "But you're wrong." Marie- Louise called.
"Be silent, girl. You don't know what you're talking about. You're not old enough to know anything." the General ordered contemptuously.
"She's right." George took up for her.
"My father never failed Neo- France. He's been a good King! Had a psycho like Mirabeau won the right to fight for Neo- France, we would have lost the respect you seem to prize so much- and even if he had won the Tournament, who's to say that the other countries wouldn't have banded together to overthrow us, using Mirabeau's mental state as a defense?"
George looked at the girl with new respect. She has grown up indeed…
"I said quiet." the General reminded her.
"You know I'm right." Marie- Louise insisted firmly, meeting his eyes squarely.
Sarge strode toward her briskly.
Jones ducked a kick from Chibodee. "Remember what you told me, you don't want to-"
"Quiet, Jones."
"Just trying to help." the assassin growled, taking out his frustration on Chibodee with a punch to his chest. Chibodee reciprocated, bruising Jones' shoulder and attempting to swipe the detonator.
"Here!" Jones barked in frustration, lobbing the detonator to the General so he could go at Chibodee with both hands. After all, it wouldn't be nearly so satisfying to only strangle him with one hand.
George ran forward, but Sarge was closer and caught it one- handed. "Don't throw this thing around!"
Jones was too busy to reply.
"Don't hurt her!" George shouted, chasing after the General. Chibodee's girls closed in around Marie- Louise, forming a protective wall.
The King blocked Sarge's path. "I cannot say I have always been the leader that Neo- France deserves, but I have done my best, and I cannot believe that I have failed so miserably as you seem to think."
Sarge tried to shove him aside, but the King's feet were planted.
Jones and Chibodee had made it up into the ceiling by this point, and Chibodee managed to land a kick that knocked the assassin off balance and off the rafters.
George noticed Jones out of the corner of his eye and tackled the King; they hit the floor at the same moment that Jones hit the General. The detonator flew out of the General's hand.
The four men on the floor sat stunned for an instant before scrambling madly for the detonator.
Chibodee jumped down, aiming for Jones but hitting Sarge instead; in the confusion caused by his entrance, Jones, through a kick to the King's groin and a blocked elbow to George's face, came up with the detonator.
Jones, George, and Chibodee slowly got to their feet. Chibodee tried Asherah's pet vanishing trick again, but like before, Jones was ready for it and responded with a backhand. He missed the American's nose, but managed to bust his upper lip. Chibodee's life was further complicated when the General came alive and yanked an ankle; Chibodee landed flat on his back and between the blow to his head and getting the wind knocked out of him, the room was spinning like a top.
The King lay on the floor, doing his best not to clutch his- erm, business- and groan; Sarge sat on Chibodee's chest and pounded away at the arms he'd thrown up in hasty, half- hearted defense; and George and Jones were circling each other.
Shirley, George, and Jones all moved at the same time; Shirley ran forward, jumped on the General's back, and maintained a deathgrip around his throat, while George and Jones rushed at each other, Jones with his finger over the button.
Sarge leapt to his feet with a speed unexpected in a man of his size and flung Shirley this way and that, while Chibodee tried to find his way up off the floor. Finally the General got smart and started flinging himself backward against the wall; Shirley took three hits before figuring out how to keep her grip on his throat and swing sideways when he went back. A couple more hits and he'll dislocate my shoulder- "Hurry up and get your sorry ass over here, Chibodee!"
George waited until he was within range, then whipped out his sword and stabbed the detonator.
Jones smirked as Marie- Louise cried out. "Shouldn't have done that!"
George made an attempt with the sword that Jones only just managed to evade. "What have you done?!"
"Hey, I'm not the one that shorted out the detonator!" Jones retorted, smirk still solidly stuck in place.
"What- have- you- done?" George demanded, making a different strike with his blade after each word; he landed a shallow cut across the other man's abdomen, a deeper one on his chest, and laid open the assassin's shoulder to the bone. Jones replied with four gunshots, but didn't succeed in doing anything more than winging the Frenchman's thigh.
They separated again. "There were no chemicals or explosives in there. Just a little something to provide an electric shock. She does have an attitude problem, you know…"
George recalled, with awful clarity, the pictures of a sodden Marie- Louise. "Is that why you half- drowned her?"
"Of course." Jones scoffed.
"But why not put chemicals or explosives in there? And wouldn't she know the difference?" George asked, thinking out loud.
"Like I said, chemicals and explosives are expensive." Jones answered in a tone that would have been conversational if it hadn't been for the nasty edge in it. "Besides, if that goes on long enough, it can do some damage. And she didn't know that it was just something to shock her; she was unconscious when I put it on."
George feinted a stab toward Jones' wounded shoulder, then slashed upward, aiming at the underside of the other man's chin; his opponent moved sideways, and the sword only managed to provide Jones with a gash that went all the way up his head that would one day be a nasty scar. His mask fell off.
Jones was an extremely nondescript, balding man, who looked thoroughly, boringly average. Of course, blending in would be a very useful tool for an assassin.
He aimed and George both aimed at the other's heart simultaneously and stared at each other.
Marie- Louise's pained cries, and the sounds of Chibodee's girls, rang in his ears. What will you do, George de Sand? What is a knight to do?
*
Chibodee lurched to his feet. Shirley- I hear Shirl- what's she bitching about? …oh.
He walked over to the General, who punched at him; Chibodee ducked his fist and used the movement to add power to his own punch at the older man's stomach. Between Shirley's grip on his throat and the blow to his abdomen, Sarge couldn't breathe and sank slowly to the floor.
"We should probably tie him up or something." Chibodee speculated.
"With what?" Shirley demanded, striking him in the arm.
"Ow!"
"That's for not coming over here sooner! My back's going to be black and blue!"
"That's your own fault!"
"Is not!"
They might have stood there all night arguing if Cath hadn't interrupted. "Come over here and see if you can figure out what's wrong with her!"
Marie- Louise was twitching and struggling against her bonds again; the girls couldn't get her to stay still long enough to take any of the rope off of her.
Chibodee finally had to hold her while his crew removed her bonds, but when he tried to take off the choker, he couldn't figure out the knots that Jones had tied in it and was unable to fiddle with it since he got shocked every time he touched it.
Chibodee stared at the rope helplessly. "I don't know what we can do. We need a knife or something." He looked over to George and Jones.
*
They moved at the same time, both of them drawing blood.
George got laboriously to his feet, drawing his sword out of Jones' stone- still chest and putting a hand over his own wound.
"Frenchie!"
George was about to let Chibodee have it with both barrels before realizing that Marie- Louise was still whimpering.
Chibodee again held the Princess, and George cut the rope off with only a small scratch to the girl's neck. He caught her as Chibodee loosened his grip and she fell forward; tipping her chin up, he worriedly studied her eyes. "Are you all right?"
"George." she murmured.
"Yes, it's me."
"You came."
"Of course."
"You always come."
"And I always will."
She smiled, and seemed to come back to herself. Her gaze drifted to the blood on his usually pristine white clothes. "You're hurt!"
"It's nothing, Miss Marie- Louise. Please don't trouble yourself." But he couldn't hide the wince as he got to his feet, and helped her to hers. His violet eyes drifted to the wrist of the small hand still in his own. "You're hurt as well."
"It's nothing." she echoed him.
"We'll call an ambulance." Chibodee muttered to George, eyeing them speculatively and giving his friend a wink before moving off, his girls clucking over his wounds. They stopped and collected the King on their way out.
Marie- Louise started shivering. "Are you cold? Here." said George, putting his jacket around her shoulders.
"Could I see your sword for a minute?" she asked.
"Why?"
"I need it." she answered darkly.
He handed it over with a twinge of trepidation; but she was the Princess, after all.
Marie- Louise held the sword in a steady hand, walked back over to where the little box lay, and proceeded to reduce one small box to a million small pieces.
She came back over to him and returned the sword. "Thank you."
George couldn't keep a smile off his face as they slowly made their way toward the door.
"I'm sorry you had to kill a man for me." Marie- Louise said quietly.
"I'm not. A man who would do such things deserves death, and he would have found his soon enough." he replied harshly.
"Nevertheless, it must be a hard thing, knowing that you've taken a life, no matter how despicable the man." She wrapped an arm around his waist and took on half his weight.
George was surprised, and his cheeks burned as he looked down on her disheveled golden head, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything as they walked toward the group waiting outside.
A/N: You know the drill. Cookies to readers and cakes to reviewers. Also, the reason Jones was reluctant to harm Marie- Louise was because the General planned to have her father killed and take control of the throne, using the military to do so; after seizing power, Sarge planned to marry Marie- Louise to further legitimize his rule. One more chapter to go!