Welcome to the second instalment of Gundam Fury, Please R&R!
Disclaimer: Do I look rich to you? No? Then I don't own Gundam wing. However I do own the Furies. MINE. :P
Chapter 1 : Making plans
Trowa Barton stepped into the foyer of the Stamford Grand, looked around and sighed. He had been searching this entire building all morning and he still hadn't found them. It's the hotels fault he thought to himself grimly; I mean why would any sane person want 15 floors? Other than to get vertigo for the sheer fun of it. He sighed again and crossed his arms over his emerald shirt. He gave the foyer the once-over for what he hoped would be the last time. The only problem with his unique ability to fade into the background was that it was extremely difficult to get anyone to notice him long enough to say, get directions (amazing! A guy that asks for directions!). Just then, he noticed a waiter hurrying out of a room just under the marble staircase, with a rather familiar brow-beaten expression. He smiled, recognising one of his old friends handiwork. So there you are Heero, he thought and casually made his way over.
As Trowa gently pushed open the door a welcome sight met his eyes. There they all were and … Trowa's eyebrows crinkled. Sally Po? What was she doing here? He knew her a little, she had found the Heavyarms for him in the war but, wasn't this a reunion?
"Trowa!!"
Trowa smiled at Quatre, sitting on the sofa drinking tea (does he have a caffeine addiction or something?) in that ever so slightly-worrying pink shirt.
"Hey Quatre, Duo"
"Yo, Trowa"
Duo was of course lolling on the sofa, braid hanging over the edge as Duo idly tugged at his shirt, black with two crossed scythes on the front. He winked at Trowa. "Look who's finally here Wufei."
Wufei who seemed to be regarding like some sort of board meeting – standing at the end of the table, wearing his semi-permanent scowl and a neat pair of gold glasses, as well as jeans and a vest – promptly looked up from his laptop, and changed his scowl into a grimace by way of greeting.
"Lighten' up Wufei."
Sally, who was sitting on the sofa on the other side of Wufei, gave Trowa a weary smile. "He's barely eighteen and he takes his job more seriously than I do"
Trowa gave a small grin as he sat down next to her. He then glanced at the only member of their team yet to greet him. "Hello Heero"
The poker-straight figure in a leather jacket and white combats staring out of the window glanced back at him, his rigid blue eyes relaxing ever so slightly, and then returned to their steady gaze out of the window.
God, even Heero was normally warmer than that Trowa thought, then slowly he began to realize that everyone one else in the room was wearing the same sort of look – worried, angry and stern. Trowa abruptly swallowed his pride and, thanking the gods that Catherine wasn't here to see this, said, "Did I miss something?"
Wufei rolled his eyes (it was one of his particular talents) and threw a piece of paper at him. " Read this."
Trowa obediently scanned his eyes down the page.
To: FS
From: O
Date: ………
8 Mar. R P San K. Go 4 targt. P mst b tkn at all csts.
When Trowa looked up from the page his face was somehow similar to everyone else's.
" It is the 6th of March now. In two days a ball is being held in the Royal Palace of the Sanc Kingdom, in order to celebrate those instrumental in bringing about the end of the war three years ago," explained Wufei, stalking around the room, "Vice Foreign Minister Darlian will be getting a special mention."
"Relena Peacecraft," murmured Trowa. As he said the name 5 pairs of eyes turned to Heero's defensive-looking profile. In a voice like lead he said,
"Get on with it." The words were laced with threats.
Trowa promptly asked "What does FS stand for?"
"We think it stands for a group of bounty hunters known as the Furies," Sally replied.
"What do we know about them?" asked Duo, straightening up.
"Not a lot," Sally said sighing, "All we do know can be boiled down into three facts. One, they're all girls. Two, they work only for unimaginable fees, and three, they're the best at what they do."
"Don't we even know their real names?" queried Quatre, his eyebrows crinkling.
"Like I said," Sally stated as she leaned back, "they're the best. Oh and before you ask, we're fresh out of ideas on who O could be too."
"So what are we going to do?" asked Trowa resignedly.
"We have to protect Miss Relena," said Quatre, staring into his teacup.
"That's all well and good but how are we even gonna get in the place?" Duo pointed out. "I doubt the guards will let us all just go waltzing in."
Wufei smirked at that "Oh I think they will Duo. We've all been invited," the smirk growing broader at Duo's look of consternation.
"By Miss Relena herself," added Sally.
"See ya later."
Everyone started. Heero had suddenly moved from his principal spot and was now striding out of the room.
"Heero wait!" cried Quatre, running after him.
Heero turned back, his expression serious. "What is it?"
"Are you all right?" asked Quatre breathlessly, his light blue eyes wide with concern. Heero felt his muscles tense. "I'm fine."
"Good," said Quatre, his pale face brightening for a second and then darkening again. "Oh and Wufei told me to give you this," he offered, his hands opening to reveal a slim, heavy-looking pistol. Heero's sapphire eyes flamed at the sight of it.
Quatre managed to stammer "He -he thought you might ne- ne -need it, later on."
Heero studied it for a moment, then flicked his piercing gaze onto poor Quatre's nervous face. Without a word he snatched the gun away and strode off, leaving his friend staring after him.
Once he was safe out of sight in a corridor Heero stopped and leaned against a wall. Silently he stood there for a short eternity, thoughts whirling in his head. Then, slowly he looked at the gun in his hand. He briefly considered throwing it away, but then decided against it, fearful of the damage it could do in another's hands. He sighed and leaned his head back again. He could do this, he could handle this weapon, he could face her…an image floated into his head, an image so painful he couldn't bear it. His fingers clenched round the gun. He silently chanted three curses, one on her, one on himself and one for the Furies, wherever they were.
It would have interested the tortured Heero to know that the Furies were actually not that far away. They had long since left the hotel room and returned to their main settlement i.e. their ship. It was a beautiful craft, normal enough not to arouse suspicion when flying in the Earth's atmosphere, yet powerful enough to fly in space. Built and designed by one of the Furies, it had more than enough rooms and storage space for their every need. In fact, it was quite possible for one to get lost upon the ship without a mental map. The girls, being social creatures had decided by mutual consent to stick to only a certain number of rooms, that way they were certain to see each other in under a week.
It was in one of these rooms that all four members of the Furies had now congregated. Tasha, the tallest member of the team and somehow the one with the most stealth, was sitting on a mat and meditating. She had long black hair done up princess-Leia style and stunning violet eyes, at least when they weren't scowling.
Louise, the shortest member of the group, was doing some warm-up exercises on another mat. She had big frizzy hair and bright green eyes, both of which seemed add to her air of always having way too much energy for one person. The other two, Emma and Lauren, were standing together and talking. Emma had brown hair done up with a silver dragon pin and piercing blue eyes. Lauren had loose blond hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. She was also the group's honorary leader.
"So exactly where are they?" asked Lauren, arms folded.
"Green box, fourth hanger, third floor" replied Emma confidently.
Lauren nodded and walked out of the room.
"Or was it the blue box?" Emma muttered to herself, watching Lauren's retreating figure. She shrugged and turned to Louise, who was currently hopping from one foot to the other in excitement. Emma grinned and prepared herself; legs apart, centre of gravity low, arms up and ready. All of the Furies had been trained in some kind of martial arts, which had led them to picking a fight with each other whenever they needed to let off some steam, or in Louise's case a sugar rush.
Louise's eyes suddenly sparked; she ran a few steps and then launched a flying kick directly at Emma's head. Friendly though this fight might be, anyone who didn't pay attention tended to get very hurt.
Emma, completely nonplussed, simply shifted to one side, grabbed Louise's foot in mid-air and turned it over. Louise, by her own force and weight was now sent hurtling toward the mat. Louise caught herself on her arms and kicked her legs upwards. Emma in turn put her hands behind her and performed a perfect walkover, narrowly missing Louise's feet.
As the mini-battle went on a vein began to pulse in Tasha's forehead. Adept at meditation she might be, but Louise's cries of "Stay still!" and Emma's superior laughs were getting very hard to ignore. Finally, she turned towards them and yelled,
"Do you mind? I'm trying to lose myself in my consciousness here!!!"
Emma, who currently held one of Louise's fists and was about to grab the other one aiming for her stomach, neatly stuck out one foot and tripped Louise up. Poor Louise hit the mat hard, making a noise rather like a squeaky toy. Emma then put her hands on her hips and replied, "You could go and meditate somewhere else."
"Why should I?" screeched Tasha (meditation really wasn't helping her), "I got here first!!!!"
"Be quiet, both of you" Both girls turned. Lauren had managed to return and was now bearing a box overflowing with what appeared to be frills. She set it down in the middle of the floor. She gave Emma an irritated look. "It was in the blue box in the fifth hangar, on the second floor" Emma smiled bashfully.
Louise had dived into the box and was now dragging out a creation of purple silk.
"I'm wearing this!!!!!" She cried out happily.
"Louise," said Lauren gently "Put it back now. We don't want it to get screwed up."
"Yeah," added Tasha, who was by now trawling through the box herself "and I don't want you to mess up my dress either."
"Dress?" repeated Emma faintly, all the colour draining from her face.
"Don't worry, Emma, you have a tuxedo," soothed Lauren, "just like in the plan."
"What plan?" asked Louise, perking up.
"The plan to get the target, stupid," snorted Tasha.
"Oh," said Louise, still looking puzzled, "Who's the target?"
All three girls looked rather pained. Tasha asked "Louise, does the term short-term memory loss mean anything to you?"
Lauren shook her head and yanked Louise towards her. She whispered in Louise's ear for several minutes, at the end of which Louise promptly cried "Yay, we're going to a ball!" and did a little dance in the middle of the room. Emma, seizing her chance, drop-kicked Louise to the floor. Louise, with an angry shout of "You're just jealous 'cos the voices are talking to me!" then threw herself at Emma.
Tasha, who along with Lauren had been watching this spectacle in grim amusement, turned to Lauren and asked "Do you really think this will work?"
"It always has done," Lauren replied idly. But then the target is a little, unique this time she thought to herself. Should be interesting.
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