Disclaimer: The Gundam Boys and all other Gundam AC characters aren't mine, but Valerie Sander's and Crawford are. Enough said I think, ne? Heh heh.

Chapter 11

Belly of the Beast

I just have to make something clear right from the start, just so you know where I stand, that it is no fun leading a one woman rebellion. It was not very much fun being part of a two person rebellion, but on your own? It's just hell, take it from me.

"Is Mr Waker expecting you?" the rather too snooty butler asked me with distaste.

"Of course he is," I ground out politely, "or I wouldn't be here would I?"

Smiling sweetly didn't hide my sarcasm from the tall grey haired man, but I have to say that at that moment I really couldn't have cared less. My best friend was dead and I was suddenly all alone in the world with more enemies than I knew what to do with. I really didn't have time to think about other people. May seem cold, but it's only the truth.

"Wait here," he told me without even a "please", and I knew from then on in that I was on unwanted ground.

The house of Consul James Waker, chief of finance and public relations for the council of the new OZ, was no more a house than a hotel all of its own. The lobby itself was about sixty feet by forty feet with a domed ceiling inlaid with glass and gold. The walls were hung with gold wallpaper that you could just tell cost one thousand dollars per square metre and the furniture adorning the place was so ornate it looked more like it was for show than to be sat on. The floor was inlaid with strips of marble that, when seen from the balcony that circled the high walls would show a very accurate picture of the new symbol OZ had adopted for itself when it redid its image. The large golden square housing a red diamond with OZ elegantly scrawled in white characters upon it was really very ostentatious. This was the mans house after all; as I stood there wondering exactly what sort of man James Waker would be like in the flesh, the symbol beneath my feet made me feel rather uneasy. I had only ever spoken to him over the phone before, and the fact that his house was looking like one big OZ shrine was starting to freak me out.

As soon as the butler left my unease did not disappear but instead grew. I suddenly felt very aware that I had slept in the clothes I was wearing and that they had been dirty when I'd put them on in the first place. I felt like I was trespassing, even though I had been invited as I was left standing in the overly luxurious lobby, all silk drapes and chandeliers, with four burly security guards planted against the four walls. I hate to admit it, but I, Valerie Sanders, am not the bravest of people. I don't even know how I became mixed up in this whole affair in the first place, but I did and now I'm slap bang in the middle of it. God knows that I could very well blame all this on Vincent…but, I guess it's not good to speak ill of the dead. I at least owe him that.

I never have been very good at blending in to hide my presence. Yet I am not so dense that I couldn't tell I was sticking out like a sore thumb against the lascivious décor. I was also stinking out, to put it mildly, and I think that was what embarrassed me most of all. I looked up nervously, although trying my best to hide it, towards the dark sunglasses of one of the guards. He stared impassively right over my shoulder, making me shudder involuntarily. Sometimes I wondered if these guys really were just robots, planted against he walls ready to kill when the signal was given; it would be just like OZ to create something like that…but then I had to mentally slap myself and come back to reality. Sometimes I do get a little carried away, especially when I'm nervous. Now was one of those times.

"Miss Valerie," the nasal tone of the butler made me leap out of my skin, but I covered it successfully under a quick fake sneeze, "Mr Waker will see you now."

There was a horrible finality on the word now and I didn't like it one bit. I always liked to follow my instincts but unfortunately at the moment they were telling me to bolt right out of that lobby and keep running until it was very far away. I always remember Vincent telling me that trusting your instinct was the key to staying alive in this business. He always used to say that I had very acute instincts too, and he tended to rely on mine more than his own. Pity that he hadn't done just that a couple of nights ago. He might still be alive…but no need to dwell. There were more pressing matters at hand.

I ignored the twisting sensation in my gut for the moment, just opting instead for a smile and a nod before I followed the butler through the ornate mahogany doorway that led into the main hallway. The hallway was no less pretentious in its decoration, a long red carpet stretching out along its impressive length and large paintings hanging against the same golden wallpaper. There were even little showcases scattered between the paintings which housed OZ medals from before and during the Alliance War belonging to Waker's father. There were none belonging to him however, and for some reason that seemed to calm down the strange feeling in my gut. Maybe I was overreacting to the whole OZ worshipping deal, maybe it was just a rouse. I guess the saying keep your friends close and your enemies closer could be applicable here, if my instincts were right about Mr. Waker.

The butler showed me to the third door on the right, a large ornate doorway sporting two large brass handles in the shapes of two dragons. The old man knocked and waited for the muffled "enter" before reaching for the handles. The doors swung open with a slow rush of wood on carpet before presenting me with a view of Waker's office. The butler motioned me through and then shut the door quietly behind me. I however was still to in shock to think about what the old man was doing. After all the luxury and extravagance that had been displayed I would have thought Waker's office would be like the Taj Mahal, but instead I was greeted with a small desk, simple lavender walls with discreet yet tasteful paintings upon them and some modest furniture. It was like being given a really expensive looking gift box and opening it up only to find a plain piece of jewellery inside. Yet somehow this show of modesty completely cleared up my feeling of unease, my stomach settling down fully as I took in my surroundings.

"So, Miss Valerie, what can I do to help you today?"

Mr James Waker however was not exactly what you would call a "plain piece of jewellery". He sat comfortably yet regally in his large black leather office chair with an amiable smile on his face. His short black hair with only a smattering of grey and his thin rimmed, stylish glasses made him look about ten years younger than he probably was, and along with his impressive physique I was already quite impressed. I had really been expecting some old fat OZ ex-general who'd obviously been sitting behind a desk all his life. Yet Mr Waker outdid my expectations and he was already shaping up to be, with his trusting eyes and his friendly attitude, to be just the man I needed to see.

"Well Mr Waker, I was wondering if I could talk to you about the pay cuts to the department researching the effects of…" I started my little cover spiel but he cut me off with a wave of his hand and a smile.

"Don't worry about it," he said laughing lightly and motioning for me to take a chair across from him, "the room isn't bugged, I made sure of that."

"You're…you're sure?" I asked suspiciously, although my stomach wasn't complaining which was always a good sign.

"Yes I'm sure, this is my own room is it not?" he said with a quirk of one elegant eyebrow.

"Yeah, umm, of course," I said completely inelegantly, "right."

I sat down cautiously in the seat at the desk, careful not to do something stupid like tip the chair or fall on my face. It wasn't that I was nervous mind you, just that I'm prone to doing stupid things in front of people that I really shouldn't do stupid things in front of; so I tend to take my time when I can.

"So, I am guessing," he started before I got a chance to think up my own questions, "that something has gone wrong?"

"That's, err, a little of an understatement Sir," I nodded and laughed nervously.

"Please," he shook his head, that smile still plastered to his face, "call me James. No one's called me Sir since the war; it's a little strange to hear."

"Oh right," I blushed, "sorry."

"That's alright," he said with a nod showing that he knew I was rather touchy when it came to the entire affair and that he didn't mind, "but please continue."

-Well, here we go, - I thought.

"Well, Si-uh, I mean James," I just let my blush deepen and ignored the humorous glint in his eye, "the thing is that things have gone wrong, quite seriously. Vincent is dead."

"What?" he said, his smile disappearing in an instant and a frown marring his handsome face; he suddenly looked a hell of a lot older, "when did this happen? I wasn't informed…"

"It was only last night," I sighed shaking my head sadly and trying not to let my voice crack, "he was killed retrieving files from GTec's main database. He managed to send all of the files required to me, but then he was discovered by guards and…shot."

"Oh…" Waker said lowering his head in reverence, "I am sorry for your loss Miss Valerie. I know that you and he were close."

"Yes, thank you, but, well, look that's not really what I came to talk to you about," I stammered out, "it's just that, well, I'm afraid that I cannot locate 01."

"Yes, yes I thought that might be a problem, he is a very resourceful young man," Waker said, his expression shifting from pensive to thoughtful and brooding, "and if he doesn't have any memory as to his whereabouts during the last two years then he might not even understand what is happening to him."

"That's what worries me most Mr Waker," I said pensively, "he was torn straight from training procedure level 2 without being given the proper treatment or psychological shielding of the proper magnitude. I did give him the CO chip to regulate the flow of the Command Stream but, well it was only a temporary one. It was programmed to disintegrate after two weeks so as to leave the subject suspicion free when it comes to being subjected to interrogation or autopsy. He's been missing for almost a month now, and by this time I'm worried that he will have become dangerously unstable. The unstable flow of CS may already have manifested itself as a psychological entity and I fear that very soon the subject will suffer a complete psychosomatic meltdown."

"This is most certainly a problem and unfortunately on that I am not sure how to remedy in time," Waker said with a sigh.

"Please James," I said with a pensive expression, "I just want to find him before GTec do. I can't let him fall back into their hands."

Mr Waker just pressed his fingertips together thoughtfully and rested them against his lips. He sighed through his nose and stared at the desk, his glasses glinting in the light. Oh right, well first, before I go on I guess I'd better explain what the hell I was just talking about before I confuse anymore people. You see I used to work for a company call GTec, part of OZ's scientific research department studying human DNA and mutation, etc. I'm quite sure that the company was innocent when I joined their group, but somewhere along the way things turned bad, really bad. It was only seven months ago that I discovered that GTec were compiling a program that could be used to indirectly alter the memories of individual human beings. At first I didn't know what to think, but when I realised that part of the programming included an advanced form of brain washing I knew that things had gone very wrong. GTec had gone from scientific research to weapons development in one easy move. That was what they were doing, manufacturing human assassins by brainwashing normal soldiers and erasing all evidence from the individuals mind. They could be sent back out into the community and set to kill whoever they were hired to kill for extortionate sums of money. OZ had utilised this facility during the Alliance war using ordinary soldiers as crash course assassins at half the price of fully training someone who they were sure would die anyway.

So this level 2 stage of the training procedure that 01 was pulled out of was actually the second of three stages. I had tried to pull him out earlier, but it would have been too suspicious. Unfortunately this meant that the only part of the procedure that was not completed was the mental stabilising for the severe mental trauma that comes about from having your mind twisted to the way NTec want it. It wasn't the most desirable way to get him out, but the only way. I just couldn't stand seeing someone so young going through the program, well I couldn't stand seeing anyone going though it to tell the truth, but he was so young. I just couldn't have handled seeing him kill and be killed, so I got him out; and now I had lost him, and time was running out.

"Miss Valerie, do you have the files with you? The one's Vincent downloaded from GTec?" Waker asked me suddenly.

"Uhh, yeah sure," I nodded, reaching down to slip of one of my shoes.

With practiced experience I pulled a chain out from under my shirt and used a small key like pendant to open a hidden compartment in the shoe. Waker continued to smile at me, nodding thoughtfully at my little invention. For some reason I felt like blushing again but restrained myself as I removed the micro-disc from the compartment and replace my shoe.

"You can't be too careful these days," I said with a shrug.

"So true Miss Valerie, so true," he nodded more respectfully as he took the disc from me and placed it into the computer sitting in front of him.

I think that it didn't really sink in that he had done anything wrong until the shooting started. Before then it was all still calm and I was just sitting pensively waiting for him to tell me something of use. I ignored the twisting feeling in my stomach as nerves because I might soon be finding 01. It was only seconds, amazingly and fantastically luckily, before he noticed a clue in one of the files. Usually it takes a long time with meticulous research in these sorts of situations to find any sort of clue, but the fact that Waker found something so quickly only proved his resourcefulness.

"I think I have an idea where 01 may have gone," he said with a look of joy shining in his eyes that his mouth restrained, "it says here that he had close contacts with Quatre Raberba Winner."

"The Quatre Raberba Winner?!" I said in shock, "but I though that NTec only chose inconspicuous subjects for testing, people that wouldn't be missed. If it was on of Mr. Winner's friends then wouldn't he have searched for him?"

"Supposedly it says here in the report that his disappearance would not be taken as out of character…" he started with a raise of an eyebrow, but then he tailed of all of a sudden, his look of interest shifting to one of growing fear.

I looked at him for a second in confusion, finally reaching out a had to tap him on the shoulder as he continued to sit and let his expression shift more and more towards defeated fear. I was about to ask if he was alright when I heard it, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. However, despite his shocked countenance, as soon as he heard the shot he was leaping into action, reaching under his desk and pulling out a concealed gun. I jumped at the sight of it and cursed myself under my breath for being so jumpy. Then all of a sudden I heard the sound of a loud click, hoping to all god that it wasn't the sound of a gun cocking and that I was about to get shot. But then I was grabbed by the arm, Waker having jumped from his chair and hauled me out of my own, and pushed towards a now gaping hole at the back of the once seamless lavender walled room. I just goggled at it before mentally slapping myself into gear and making my feet work. I just assumed that Waker was as resourceful as he seemed and had had a panic button under his desk, but I didn't really have time to think further on the matter as I was shoved through into the darkness. Then I realised something that made my gut twist quite painfully, but the door was already closing by the time that I even thought to shout for Waker to stop.

"No wait!" I shouted futilely, pounding on the now closed secret doorway, blinking as the lights buzzed into life, "Waker don't!"

"Quiet!" I heard the older man say authoritatively from the other side, silencing me yet not calming my fear, "or you will be heard! Just go Miss Valerie, follow the corridor and take the car in the basement."

"But…"

"Go, now!"

I didn't think, even as I ran through the cramped corridor with my gut making my eyes water and my feet stumbling as I thought of loosing another friend. I was running very low on friends these days, and Mr Waker had been one of the nicer ones all round, apart from Vincent. I cursed myself for thinking of him when I was in such a state, the thought making the waiting tears spill from my eyes and I didn't stop to wipe them away. I just kept running, running towards the basement, running from the sound of that single dead shot, running from the enemy. There was only one thought running through my head now.

-Quatre Raberba Winner. –

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The tall man sat in his chair defiantly as the door was broken down before his eyes like it was nothing but tissue paper. He didn't even flinch as the room filled with armed guards dressed in black, or when a tall blonde haired man walked in through the rubble; although he should have. The man wore a long fitted grey trench coat with the OZ symbol emblazoned onto the front pocket. His countenance was cold and calculating and his eyes ice blue in colour only adding to his cool demeanour. He regarded the man behind he desk silently before speaking, acting as though the guards were not there.

"Waker," he said softly, a slight nod given in respect for the older man.

"Crawford," Waker said back, returning the nod, "I always thought breaking and entry was not your style."

"Only when it is necessary," the blonde said back, "and you can just put the gun up on the table by the way."

Waker sighed but smiled almost affectionately at the young man before him, completely ignoring the ring of guards and their drawn weapons. There was a sad glint in his eye as he pulled the gun from its careful concealment in his lap and placed it on the desk lightly.

"Sometimes I think that I trained you too well," Waker smiled.

"And for that I can only give you my thanks," the cold eyed blonde replied with an incline of his head.

He walked forward softly on his black boots to retrieve the gun, the guards edgy and tense as their leader neared the enemy. He was reaching out for the weapon before he thought about the other thing that his old master had taught him. Waker had the gun out and cocked before anyone could blink. It was a good thing for him however that Crawford had just as god reactions as his former teacher or he would have found himself splattered all over his office in no time.

"Don't shoot!" he ordered his men before they could fire a single shot.

There was silence for a moment, and then the clinking and rattling of guns being pulled back, but not completely. Crawford just stared at Waker's steady grip on the revolver that was pointed right at his heart. Waker stared right into Crawford's eyes.

"One last lesson?" Crawford asked softly.

There was a tense moment of silence that seemed to stretch out forever, but then very slowly Crawford moved. He slowly reached out and took the gun from the older man's grasp, not reacting at all to the fact that Waker just let him take it. Although that wasn't to say that he missed the sad look in Waker's eyes, or the slight nod he gave the blonde when he relinquished the gun.

"There are always more things to learn," Waker said with a soft sigh, as if he were teaching the blonde once more and he had just disappointed him in his studies, "remember that."

"Hai," the blonde nodded, holding the gun carefully in his hand, "now, if you would come with me Mr Waker."

Waker didn't even protest, just got up and went and stood beside Crawford so that he could be escorted out. The confused and jumpy guards followed after them, checking around corners and up on the balcony as if they thought this had been all too easy. Waker just walked proudly out of his house with Crawford beside him, ignoring the security guards dead on the floor.

"You do know that you'll never get away with this don't you?" he said to his old student as they walked.

"I don't know what you mean," Crawford replied flatly, "I'm only following orders."

"Don't try and pull that on me, I used to say that myself," Waker snorted, "and you know well fine what you're doing."

"We know you had accomplices," Crawford said, changing the subject, "one was killed accidentally and the other will soon be in our custody. As will 01."

"Accidentally," Waker shook his head, "these rookies of yours are very jumpy aren't they?"

"They're not mine," Crawford let a small smile slip before masking it once more.

He didn't even hear the squeal of tires from the back entrance to the basement as a large black jeep tore out into the night.

AN: Hi, me again, just a note to say I hope this isn't too confusing. I seem to be doing a lot of that in my stories recently, woops, so sorry if it's all a bit mental! But as ever please R&R, feedback is welcome, and thanks to everyone for reviewing! Love you all xxx!