4 NOVEMBER 293 - TUESDAY
16:03 PM
"Mrs. Peacecraft, if you would just sign these forms – "
Relena paused her almost frantic pace and turned to glance quickly at the secretary following her. "Alena, I'm sorry, I just got out of a meeting and I have to get home, my daughter's – "
"But," protested the little woman in the horn-rimmed glasses, "they're straight from the Secretary of the Senate's office, he told me to give them directly – "
"Miss Relena?"
She turned abruptly at the new voice to her left. Another secretary was poking her head out of the door of the vidcam room. "Sorry to interrupt, Miss Relena, but you have a call on screen four from Senator Wilshaw."
Relena halted, startled. "Wilshaw?"
The secretary nodded, and Alena's frenzied look intensified.
"Oh, all right," Relena snapped, much more curtly that unusual, and took the papers from her personal secretary. She shouldered her purse and entered the vidcam room.
"Good afternoon, Relena," said the older man gently. Wilshaw was seated in what looked like his personal office, wearing casual clothes and looking at her kindly.
She smiled at him, a little weakly. "What a pleasant surprise, Senator. Can I help you with something?"
Wilshaw looked startled, then chuckled a little. "Good gracious, no, my dear. I just – well, to tell you the truth, I called to see if I could help you." He regarded her a moment, then added, "You did very well in the meeting today, considering."
"Considering?" Relena asked tersely, before she could stop herself. "Oh, I'm sorry," she immediately hastened to correct herself. "I'm so sorry, Senator, I'm just a little -"
"I understand," he said kindheartedly. "And please, call me Brad, I'm not used to being addressed so formally by people I consider to be more than fellow Senators."
She couldn't help it; Relena had to smile. The older man was so nice – it was just what she needed. What with all the pilots going crazy helping Heero with reconnaissance and the wives busy with their children and jobs, she had had very few opportunities to talk with people in the past three days since Heero had been gone. Three days, and he still hasn't found anything…
"Thank you, Brad," she said, smiling at him. "I appreciate that."
He returned the smile. "It was in truth. Now, I was calling to see if you and Amy might consider having dinner with an old man like me? If you have anything prepared," he added hastily, "I will certainly not be offended – "
"Brad," she said, "I've been in meetings since five thirty this morning." She gave him a wry smile. "I've had no time to breathe, much less fix dinner for my daughter."
A broad grin spread across his face. "Then by all means, my dear, be over here as soon as you can. Is five thirty all right?"
Relena sighed, grateful almost beyond words. "Thank you so much. We'll be there."
17:29 PM
"Why do I have to wear this, Mom?"
Relena glanced down at Amy, who was fingering the skirt of one of her best dresses curiously. Feeling self-conscious, Relena straightened her own skirt for the umpteenth time and said, "Because we're having dinner with a very important man tonight."
"Who?" she asked, as they strode up the long walk to the front door.
"A man Mommy works with, honey," Relena said.
"Are we in trouble?" Amy asked, gazing up at her mother. Relena, gazing down at her, was suddenly struck by how much this little girl reminded her of Heero. Right now, Prussian blue eyes identical to his were gazing at her with the same curious desire to find out everything they could.
Relena smiled, relaxing a little. Amy seemed so calm, and admittedly she didn't know much about what was going on, but she still understood that they were going to meet someone important and therefore was prepared to conduct herself accordingly. We did well with her, Heero, Relena thought silently. "No, honey, we're – I'm not in trouble," she assured her daughter. "I just didn't have time to make dinner tonight and Mr. Wilshaw invited us over to eat with him."
"That was nice," Amy remarked.
Grinning now, Relena stepped up to the front door and rang the doorbell, feeling her anxiety evaporate.
The door opened almost immediately and the butler gave them a deep nod.
Amy stepped forward immediately and extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wilshaw," she greeted him.
Relena froze, and the butler, startled, was speechless for just a second, before he recovered quickly and said laughingly, "Oh no, little miss, I'm only the butler."
Amy considered this for a second, then hesitantly reached back and took her mother's hand. "Is he the butler?" she whispered. Relena glanced up at the man in question, who was grinning broadly at them and hearing every word. She flashed him a smile, and then replied in the same whisper, "I don't know, he's rather well-dressed for a butler."
"What can I say, I like to keep my staff up to par with the latest fashions."
Relena turned to the hallway just before them, where Brad Wilshaw was striding towards the door, a warm smile on his face. "Good evening, sir," Relena said.
He boomed, "A pleasure, my dear, to have you here," and halted in front of Amy.
Now sure that this was the man her mother had spoken about, the little girl promptly stepped forward and offered her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wilshaw."
Repressing a grin, Brad took her hand and very seriously shook it. "And it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Amy."
Delighted, Amy whirled around to her mother and whispered, "Mom, he called me 'miss!'"
Laughing now, Brad said, "That I did, my dear. And now might I escort you to the dining room?"
Glancing at her mother for approval, Amy nodded and in a very dignified manner accepted the elderly man's elbow – which she had to stretch to reach – and together they led the way into the dining room, closely followed by Relena and the butler.
18:18 PM
"…though I must admit, the idea of another dome on Mars is not entirely unacceptable."
Nodding her agreement, Relena responded as she swallowed another bite of spaghetti, "While it very well could create more problems with rebellions and working unions on the planet, it would open up many more opportunities in the industry."
It was an hour into dinner. Amy was hardly talking, but that was because she was eating as much food as she could get – if there was one thing she had inherited from her father, besides her physical features, it was an absolutely insatiable appetite.
As the little girl moved her spaghetti plate over slightly, finally done with her very large helping, Brad Wilshaw smiled at her. "I assume you enjoyed that, Miss Amy?"
She nodded energetically. "It was even better than Dad's!"
Relena laughed. "Well, he's not much with spaghetti, that's for sure."
Brad smiled. "Is Mr. Yuy a good cook otherwise?"
"Heero, please – you can call him Heero. I'm sure he would ask you the same." Relena paused, then added, "Actually, he's a very good cook. Just…"
"Not with spaghetti," Amy finished for her.
"I'm sure he has many talents," Brad said amiably, motioning for their plates to be taken away. "Being a good cook is certainly not necessary for getting through life."
"Yes," Relena replied. "He's much more talented than I am, that's for sure."
"And how," Brad asked, "is his work going on – on L1, I believe it was?"
Relena nodded. "Well, it's…going, I guess."
He glanced at her sympathetically. "No luck yet?"
Surprised, she looked at him questioningly.
"Oh – I'm sorry," Brad said. "I asked your secretary – I assumed, rightly, I think, that you were busy this morning – if she thought your husband needed any help with whatever he was doing, and she said something about him never needing any help rooting out criminals." He added hastily, "My sincere apologies if I was out of place."
A silent second passed before Relena said quietly, "No – not at all." She took a breath, then continued, "Mr. Wilshaw – Brad – I appreciate this so much. You have no idea how much it means to me to have someone – " she stopped, embarrassed.
Amy had stopped forking her way through a slice of pie, paying close attention.
When Brad spoke next, his voice was gentle. "It's hard, isn't it? To have him gone?"
Not trusting her voice, Relena merely nodded.
"He's never…been on a business trip before?"
Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself and replied, "Yes, but not – not for an indefinite length of time, and never…" she trailed off.
"…with a purpose such as this," he ended for her.
She nodded again.
"Relena, I'm an old man," Brad said slowly. "I have no remaining family and when I die there will be no one who will remember that I did any great works in my life."
Immediately Relena opened her mouth to protest, but he waved a hand at her and continued, "My career is the only thing I have left, and soon I won't even have that. Then, all that will be left is friends – which, sadly, are extraordinarily hard to make in this business. Politics is a cunning way to go in life," he murmured. "And you can't make friends without worrying you'll get a knife in the back just when things look up.
"So," he said, drawing another deep breath, "as a result, I don't have many close friends. I've been in politics a long, long time, and the only man that has ever been as good to me as a true friend was your father, Relena. He would stand up for me when everyone else was totally opposed to my vote. When – " Brad had to stop talking for a brief moment as his voice betrayed him once more. Amy was listening, wide-eyed, now. "When Lydia died, I – I didn't think I could make it. And your – " he swallowed, then went on heavily, "your father was the only man to help me. I can never repay that debt…but I am trying." He drew a breath, then continued on in a determined tone, "With your husband gone, Relena, I know you'll feel more vulnerable down here. I want you to know that I am here to provide for anything you – and Miss Amy – will need. Anything at all; please, don't hesitate to ask me."
There was silence in the dining room for a long while, as Relena stared at the Senator. Tears were filling her eyes, tears of the deepest form of gratitude.
Suddenly there was a loud scraping noise as Amy pushed her chair back away from the table and jumped down, circling around the table quickly before coming up right in front of the Senator. Without a moment's hesitation, she threw her arms around the older man.
Relena would have been appalled had that not been the very thing she wanted to do at the moment. So, following her daughter's lead, she too crossed the room to give the old man one of the most grateful hugs she had ever given in her life.
22:58 PM
The bathroom lights gleamed harshly against her skin as Relena sat on the counter, splashing her face with the coldest water she could get. Her heart was beating rapidly, and slowly, she was coming to the realization of what had just happened.
Unbelievable. Just now, when her world was changing around her, when life was pulling a 180-degree flip-flop, this had to happen. Unbelievable.
What would the other pilots and their wives think? For heaven's sake, what would Heero think? What would he do? Would he be compelled to return to Earth? Would he give his latest 'mission' up – the mission that could change everything around again for them – just for her?
She had been thinking about this whole possibility for a long time; the nausea and headaches and exhaustion had been much worse than usual lately. But that didn't do anything to quench the violent siege of worries and nervousness attacking her…
Oh, she was happy – ecstatic. Of course; that was to be expected. But…she didn't think she was ready for this. Not now, not when so much was happening, so many things were taking place behind her back. And Relena, sitting alone on the bathroom countertop, feeling more alone than she had felt in a long while, suddenly had an overwhelming assault of anxiety attack her, and she had a very bad feeling that a lot of terrible things were going to happen because of that single pink line.
6 NOVEMBER 293 - THURSDAY06:03 AM
This was turning out to be most depressing.
Five days, and nothing.
Admittedly, he was being very impatient. After all, he had expected to search for Amy for weeks at the very least, and they had found her in less than a day. He couldn't let himself get used to that; he had to keep his patience.
Sighing, Heero stretched his legs and yawned. The early morning light was just beginning to spread over the Colony, and he had only woken up about a half hour ago
The days had passed uneventfully; though Heero had pulled all his training to the front of his mind, and sunken into the world of the soldier, he had not found a single clue. He had taken precautions, now that he was in a possible danger zone here on L1. His hair was no longer brown; it was blond, a dark kind of brassy shade tinged slightly with red. Heero's eyes, thanks to colored contacts, were a deep brown, instead of his usual vibrant blue, and his skin was tanned more so than usually. His hair was cut differently, his clothes were new and not his regular style, and when he spoke to anyone, he used a foreign accent. Overall, it was a completely convincing disguise.
At the minute he was sitting there, in the same seat in the shadows at the old-Italian restaurant, where he could see the street clearly. Over the past five days the servers here had caught on to the fact that he was claiming that booth, and now, the waitresses smiled and waved at him as they went on inside to open up.
The minutes passed, turning steadily into hours, as the light in the Colony brightened and soon the street was packed. It was harder at this time of day to listen in on people's conversations, and Heero stood and left the restaurant. For the rest of the day he wandered the Colony, taking occasional taxis, never straying too far from home base. At seven o'clock, when the light was beginning to fade, he walked the remaining block and a half back to the restaurant. He took a seat near the front and sat back to wait, feeling more than a little disappointed that he had found nothing that day.
However, it turned out to be a lucky move. Just seconds after he sat down, he heard a deep voice behind him say quietly, "…an older man, seemed like, and he stayed in the shadows. Told me 'bout a gang of some sort, offered an interview…"
Heero slowly shifted his position, acting very leisurely, until he could see the person sitting behind him clearly in the reflection given by the windows of the restaurant.
It was a man, probably in his late twenties, with red hair and a pale complexion. He was evidently tall – the slightly untamed hair was brushing the bottom of the umbrella that was set up on his table – and his shoulders were broad, his arms muscular.
"…what? Oh, he asked about experience, skills, typical things like that – gave me a time for an interview and directions. When I said I was interested, he slipped back in the shadows and ran off. Couldn't catch him, he was way too fast. In any case," the man concluded, "I'm heading there right now."
Heero couldn't see the person across from the speaker, but it was definitely a female by her voice. "I'm not sure, Brian, it could be another phony." She sounded soft and a little timid.
"Look, Samira, it's not like I'm a normal civilian, okay? I've had training, I know what I'm doing. I can take care of myself." The man – Brian – stood abruptly, tossed the woman some money, and said curtly, "I'm leaving. See you for dinner, maybe."
And then he strode quickly out of the area.
Heero quickly set a few bills down on the table, grabbed his jacket, and set off after the speaker – looking calm and unhurried as he did so. He strode after the man, always keeping sight of the auburn hair, always seeming completely at ease.
He followed the redhead for two blocks on that street, and then the man took an abrupt turn to the right. Heero was quickly moved in; unfortunately for him, it was an alleyway, very narrow and empty. However, he went straight for the right side, which was shrouded in shadows, and kept on with the chase.
The man headed on for a while, but then his walk began to slow. After a few moments, he came to a complete stop. They were far from any busy streets now, meandering their way through a group of old apartment complexes.
Heero waited patiently while the man studied his surroundings. He was somewhat startled when the redhead called loudly, "Look, I know there's someone following me. You should know right now that my bank account is floundering and in its last stages of life, I don't have a job or any family up here so you couldn't ransom me anyway, the only person that even likes me is my wife, though I don't know how long that'll hold up, and – oh yeah, another little fact: I trained for eight years in martial arts."
Heero couldn't help it; he smiled to himself. The man was grinning, and the cheerfulness and easygoing tone in his voice was contagious; he reminded Heero strongly of Duo. Grinning, Heero stepped out of the shadows and into full view.
"Care to take on an opponent?"
The man turned quickly, his feet moving instinctively into fighting stance, and Heero noted this with approval. When he saw Heero, he gave him a quick grin and said, "Well, I am a bit late for a job interview, you know, but everyone likes to have a little fun. I'm sure the bosses will enjoy a guy who takes pleasure in a bit of adventure. Wouldn't you agree?"
Before Heero could reply, the man leaped forward. Immediately, without thinking, Heero dodged the blow easily and twisted his body around so as to strike a punch to the man's lower back. Just two seconds before the punch landed, the man swiveled around on his right foot and dodged the hit.
And on it went; back and forth, back and forth, across the little alley: throwing punches, dodging punches, landing an occasional hit, and all the while evaluating the opponent. Heero was enjoying it immensely; the man was good, yes, but he hadn't had fifteen years of the training Heero had suffered through – training that refused to be forgotten. After a while, the other man began breathing heavily, and not for show or jest; sweat was running down his forehead, and his movements were beginning to slow. Heero, grinning, finally pulled in all his skills, and within three seconds had the man flat on the ground, immobilized.
The redhead was breathing heavily, and as Heero grinned at him, panted, "I take it…you've…had…a little training…too."
"Fifteen years," Heero said affably, offering his hand.
"I guess I should say something bigger than six next time, huh?" he grinned, and then shook Heero's hand. "Brian Hackett."
He returned the grin, nodded, and said, "Jackson Hunter. Pleasure to meet you."
"Might I ask why you were following me?" Brian said, his eyes twinkling.
"To be honest, I overheard a conversation you had at the old-Italian restaurant on 3rd Street. Something about a job interview…and it sounded like my kinda thing."
"Ah," said Brian, with understanding. "You're an unemployed too, huh?"
"Unfortunately."
"Well, I can't promise much, but you're welcome to come along. I'm sure they wouldn't mind another guy. The fellow that found me said they were launching a recruitin' mission to get as many men as they could." Brian's voice dropped, he leaned in closer to Heero, and then said, "I think they're planning something big. In any case, I want to be part of it, and the starting pay he mentioned is excellent."
Heero smiled. "Sounds…perfect."
13:28 PM
"Samuel! Oh geez, honey, get off the top of the swing set, please. You'll fall and break your neck!"
Quatre glanced out of the window of the Yuy's kitchen to see his son sitting leisurely at the very top of the swing set, and a very pregnant Dorothy begging for him to come down.
"Duo," he said calmly, "I believe your daughter has convinced my son to scare his mother out of her wits yet again."
Duo, who was sitting at the kitchen table, shrugged carelessly. "No harm done, Q-man."
"Last time," Trowa said quietly, stabbing a piece of steak with his fork, "he broke his leg."
"Not my fault!" Duo protested easily, lifting his double-cheeseburger.
Relena entered the kitchen, closely followed by Sally.
"…told her about the whole last-name thing," Sally was saying, sounding unusually subdued, "and she absolutely threw a fit."
"What do you mean?" Relena asked, concerned.
"As in she yelled that she didn't have a sister, slammed the door in my face, and didn't come out when I rang the bell again."
Relena was stunned. "Wow."
"Yeah. Duo," Sally asked, turning to him, "did Hilde ever mention having a sister?"
Duo glanced up, surprised at the question. "'Course not, no. Why?"
"Have you met her family?"
"Yeah," he said, nodding, looking a bit concerned now. "What's going on?"
Relena gave Sally an uneasy glance before saying reluctantly, "We didn't tell you before, because we weren't sure if it meant something. But that night, a week ago, when Heero and I had Maclemury over for dinner, he brought a lady with him."
"Who was she?" Duo asked, still not seeing how this concerned him.
"She said her name was Katja Schbeiker."
"What!"
Sally nodded. "We thought it was a coincidence, so I took my time in telling Hilde…but when I did, she – well, took it the wrong way, I think."
"She acted very oddly," Relena added. "You've…never heard of her having any siblings?"
Duo scratched his head. "She…has an older brother, but he died in the wars. Her parents are in Germany, we talk to them a lot on the vidcam…but no. No sister."
"You're positive?"
"Yeah," replied Duo easily, then paused. "Well…"
"What?" Trowa asked, in on the conversation now.
Duo shook his head. "It's nothing."
"What?" Relena and Sally asked together, frustrated with this whole business.
The Deathscythe pilot held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. It's just that…Hilde just doesn't talk about her past much, ya know? Me neither, I s'pose, but she just gets a little touchy when I ask her about growing up, and all that."
Relena was silent for a minute, before she ventured, "I think we should ask her."
Sally, relieved that someone else had voiced that uncomfortable thought, nodded. "If she does have a sister, this could change this whole situation around."
"For the worse," Duo muttered, looking very unusually serious.
19:37 PM
"I'm not sure, but I think we should probably be quiet while we're doing this."
Heero's head snapped up; he hadn't missed the tone of caution in Brian's voice. "What do you mean?"
They were standing in front of an old sewer gate, in the oldest part of the Colony. Heero was surprised; scientists had long since discovered alternate ways to get rid of sewage and waste, and to see any remaining underground sewage systems was rare. This gate, however, was locked, and the only way through would be with a very nice lockpick. Though Heero had excelled in that particular area of training, he didn't have a pick on him.
"…sure about this."
He realized Brian had answered his question, and tried to act as though he had been paying attention. "Yeah, all right," he said vaguely.
"Besides," Brian added to whatever it was he had been saying, "they said their hideout was very well hidden."
"In the sewer?" Heero asked. It was incredibly predictable…so much, in fact, that he hadn't thought of it.
"I'm not sure," the other man answered, inspecting the lock. "Though no one checks these old tunnels anymore…"
"…but they provide entrances and exits to every part of the Colony," Heero finished.
Brian looked up, surprised. "Yeah, something like that."
"What'd they say to do, once you got here?"
Impatience crossed the redhead's freckled face. "Wait. Something I'm terrible at."
This man was reminding him strongly of Duo. It was, quite frankly, unnerving.
Heero had no time to ponder it further, however, because at that instant he sensed someone behind him, and immediately twisted around and ducked out of the way.
A knife came slamming into the ground where his right foot had been just seconds before, and a millisecond after that another hit the ground where his left had been situated. Heero leapt further out of the way and pulled his own gun out swiftly, aiming it directly at another man standing in the shadows under the sewer gate.
"Step out and show me your hands," Heero commanded.
There was what seemed to be a stunned silence - from the unknown man and Brian, too - until another voice came out of the darkness. It was almost laughing.
"Well, well," it came, ringing through the alleyway and, strangely, hurting Heero's ears and pricking at his memory. "We seemed to have attacked the wrong man."
"You bet you did," Heero shot back, unfazed. "Now show me your hands."
The cynical, laughing voice came back, commanding this time. "Go on, Midas."
Reluctantly, the figure that had thrown both knives at Heero's feet slid out from under the gateway, his hands rising slowly above his head. He was tall, slight of build but wiry and toned, with dark, neatly-cut blond hair and pale skin. Regarding Heero coldly with unfriendly brown eyes, he stood still.
Brian was looking a little lost. "Uh…Jackson? Mr. Hunter?"
It took Heero a moment to remember his alias. Before he could reply, though, the cynical voice called, "Mr. Hunter, is it? Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hunter. Quite a pleasure indeed." There was a pause, and then a light thud on the ground to Brian's right. Nervously, the redhead stepped closer to Heero, who hadn't moved an inch. Slowly, another man came into the dim light.
This one was of much shorter, stockier build, less muscular than the one called Midas but, for some reason, he was much more intimidating. Perhaps it was the way that he held his chin high, his broad shoulders back, and one eyebrow slightly raised, giving him an aloof air, or perhaps it was just the fact that his eyes, so dark they seemed to be black, burned with startling intensity.
Heero wasn't sure what to make of this newcomer, but he certainly wasn't lowering his gun. This man stepped forward - Brian moving as close to Heero as he could - and finally stopped a little in front of the other man, Midas. There was a moment of tense silence, till he said, "Forgive us for being cautious. We were under the impression that one man was to come here tonight, not two. We're the kind that take no prisoners, if you get my meaning."
Mercenaries. Assassins. This man is running a mob.
"However," he was saying, "I am quite impressed with your skills. Obviously you have been well trained and…would do much for my…organization."
Heero resisted the urge to snort in disbelief at the term.
Brian contributed, "I was under the impression that there was to be some sort of job interview here tonight."
"Quite, quite," the man affirmed, nodding. "Though now, if you don't mind, with two interviewees."
Brian turned to Heero, who gave one curt nod.
"Brilliant!" the man exclaimed, and for the first time a smile spread across his angular features. It wasn't an unpleasant smile, merely an…unsettling one. "Very well, then, I'll need your names. You, sir," he said calmly, nodding to the redhead standing behind Heero, "are Brian Hackett. And the man next to you?"
"Jackson Hunter," Heero offered coolly.
"Hailing from?"
Heero raised a cold eyebrow. "Wherever I feel like."
Another smile spread across the man's face. "I like you, Mr. Jackson Hunter," he declared, turning slightly to the man called Midas, behind him. He tilted his head to the side and gave a quick nod as his smile grew even wider. "You can call me Tavera."
The sewer gate was opened in a matter of three seconds; Heero and Brian were blindfolded - a slightly upsetting sensation for Heero, but his other senses immediately heightened to make do with the loss of his eyesight - and led through a maze of tunnels. As they walked, being led by two men that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, Brian gave way to a string of nervous questions and speculations. After a while it became apparent to Heero that the redhead was not waiting - or pausing - for answers, and so Heero set himself to making a map of in his head of the tunnels through which they were being led.
A little less than a half hour later their guides made a sudden quick turn to the left, and immediately Heero sensed a difference in the surrounding atmosphere. They were no longer in the tunnels; they had entered a room - small, by what he could sense of it, and somehow foreboding.
Their two guides left them, and then came Tavera's calm voice ordering Midas to leave. The man obliged, and then the blindfolds were removed.
"Have a seat, gentlemen."
Heero and Brian obeyed, sitting in two comfortable office chairs as Heero quickly took stock of the room. They were in a rectangular office or study, with a sturdy desk just in front of them, complete with a laptop computer, normal telephone and a vidcam screen just behind. The rest of the walls were taken by bookshelves. The titles ranged from aeronautics to how-to books on plumbing; Heero had the odd impression that they were, for some reason, just for show, and none of them had been opened, much less read.
"Welcome to this office," Tavera was saying. He was leaning against the desk, looking relaxed and leisurely. The man was handsome, strong, and looked as if he knew what he was doing. "I would like to say that it's mine, but I can't. This office belongs to my partner, who should be here any second."
"Partner in what?" Heero asked stolidly.
Tavera had no time to reply, for the door suddenly opened and yet another man came striding quickly into the room. Brian straightened; this newcomer gave the impression of a strict and stern army general. Tavera glanced at him once and nodded a quick greeting. But Heero, for some reason, felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up upon first sight of this man and goosebumps rise on both arms. He was immediately suspicious.
This man was much taller than his partner; he easily broke six feet, and was definitely all muscle. His hair was neatly cropped and dark brown, and his eyes were almost the exact same color. His features were ruggedly handsome at best; they were straight and defined and, altogether, this man made Heero feel as if he was someone not to be messed with.
Without speaking, he walked past Tavera, Brian, and Heero, and sat down in his chair. He then sat backwards, folding his arms and regarding Tavera with no cheerfulness in his expression whatsoever.
"He can speak, I promise," Tavera said wryly, glancing at his partner. "Mr. Hunter, Mr. Hackett, this is my partner."
Brian leaned forward, hand outstretched. There was no movement from the man behind the desk. He was silent, almost brooding.
"I…I'm Brian Hackett," the redhead offered. "I was told to come here about a…"
"Job opportunity," the man said curtly, and just as when he had entered the room, at the sound of the harsh, grating voice, Heero felt his whole body tense involuntarily. This strange, cold person appeared not to have seen Heero yet, so he offered, "I'm Jackson Hunter."
The man's head turned sharply to gaze intensely, at Heero, and Heero had to hold back a shudder. An emotion flashed through the dark brown eyes, but so quickly Heero had no chance in recognizing it.
"Roberts," the man said curtly.
Tavera was watching this exchange curiously, having noticed something evidently strange going on. When it was obvious that all Heero and Roberts were going to do was have a staring contest, Tavera cleared his throat loudly and said, "We're glad to have you here, and you should feel honored to be allowed inside our headquarters." His voice was business-like and it sounded as if the words were rehearsed. "You were selected, because we happened to observe you on the streets and found that you fit our requirements for induction into our organization."
"Organization?" Heero said wryly. A fancy word for mob, gang.
Roberts leaned forward and said, in his hard, dry voice, "Tavera and I are the leaders of a crime organization. We've been in the business for years. Out of all those years, two of our members have been caught out of a total of nine hundred and forty-four inductees."
"And you interviewed all nine hundred and forty four?" Brian said, attempting humor.
"We did," Tavera said, offering a smile while Roberts didn't break his grim expression. "It wasn't exactly enjoyable, as you can presume. However, it has paid off in the end; we know each member of the organization personally and therefore have much better control over our squadrons."
"Squadrons?"
"It's how we organize the group," Tavera explained, after a brief silence in which Roberts made no move to answer the question. A strong dislike for the cold man was slowly gathering in Heero's heart. "In groups of eight. There's one hundred and eighteen squadrons all together, each with a commander, second-in-command, and medic."
"You sound like it's a military operation," Heero remarked. He was keeping his voice dry, but his mind was almost frantically trying to piece this all together. This crime gang had just under one thousand men in on its operations, and on this Colony alone…
Tavera shrugged. "It keeps it simple. You're here because we're offering you a job opportunity."
"I was told an excellent number for the starting pay."
Tavera gave Brian small nod. "One thing we are not short on is money."
"What are you short on?" Heero asked, speaking calmly.
"Several things," Roberts said suddenly, startling Heero, "that will not be admitted to you until you have been sworn into the organization."
"And what does that require?" Brian asked, a hint of a playful smile spreading across his freckled face. "Cutting our palms and adding our blood to a vial containing the drops of other members? Dancing around a blazing bonfire while singing an ancient voodoo induction tune? Going out under a full moon to bury a werewolf's tooth and intoning a prophecy of old? Or do we - "
"Actually," Roberts cut in curtly, "you sign a contract."
Tavera was grinning at Brian's humor, and Heero was suppressing a smile, but Roberts was regarding Brian as if he were something dirty and disgusting. The dislike was growing steadily into a strong hate.
"What are the hours?" Brian asked.
"Report in every day, whatever time you like. We also have individual squadron meetings once a week at the least to discuss the week's activities. Oh, and you'll always have to be in touch for emergency notices."
"Emergencies?" Heero inquired with a raised eyebrow.
For the first time, a ghost of a dry, humorless smile flitted across Roberts's face. "When business opportunities that had not been previously possible are open for us."
Heero stared at him coldly. "When you kill somebody who was in your way."
To his surprise, Roberts shrugged and said coolly, "Yes, of course."
Brian's forehead was wrinkled, and he seemed to be thinking. "So…murder is involved?"
Tavera answered, "Occasionally, yes. I try to avoid it when possible, but sometimes we are forced to take extreme measures." He paused. "Are you interested?"
Brian thought for a moment, his features grim, then said slowly, "I am."
Heero was, quite frankly, astounded at the easiness with which Brian agreed to commit the most heinous crimes known to man - until, with the barest hint of a shudder, Heero realized that for the first fifteen years of his life, he had done the exact same thing.
Nodding slowly, Tavera then said, "We've already checked you, Hackett. But as for you, Mr. Hunter - could you give us some information about yourself?"
"Why should I?" Heero said bluntly. "You live in a world of crime. I am a possible asset, you are a possible employer. You don't mean to tell me that believe your workers when you first hire them."
The two partners glanced at each other; Roberts's expression was blank, but Tavera seemed to read it easily.
"Roberts, you didn't see him out there. He was amazing - sensed Midas behind him, moved completely out of the way and trained a gun on us in two seconds flat - "
"He is not going to be admitted."
For the first time, Heero caught an emotion in Roberts's voice - it was anger.
Tavera opened his mouth, evidently to protest, but Heero cut in first. He had a feeling that this crime group - that cold man sitting before him - had had something to do with his daughter's kidnapping, and over the years he had come to trust completely in his feelings.
"For more than a decade I trained as a hacker, soldier, pilot, spy, assassin, mechanic, programmer, and thief. There is nothing in the military world that I can't do or fly. I have my whole life behind me as experience, a trail of bodies to list as references, and the only thing that can tie me to an employer is a good solid contract, and an even more solid paycheck."
Tavera turned an expectant glare to Roberts.
The man seemed put out. "I know that," he said sharply, then immediately stopped.
"How?" Brian asked, confused, and Roberts instantly said, "It's evident from your skills. The way you walk, the way you study the room. I - it's obvious," he finished, his cool composure back.
Heero was more suspicious about this turn of events than the question of his admission into the gang. He was too busy turning over that strange remark of Roberts's, so he missed Tavera's plead with the other partner, coupled with Brian's testimonial of the truth of Heero's words. He did hear, however, the words that rang in the office a few minutes later:
"All right. You're in."