Savor the Darkness

-Four-

"Sir, we've found something."

Rashid lifts his head from where he'd been cradling it in his hands as Ahmed's softly spoken statement reaches him. Not a little putout at being discovered in such an exhausted state, Rashid quickly pulls himself together.

"What is it?" he asks automatically. To his surprise, the other man hesitates.

"I'm... not sure. Just... just come and see."

Frowning, Rashid follows the other man from the table in banquet hall where he'd been contemplating various maps and encoded messages recovered from the desert fortress's communications room. Every few hours, Abdul passes by the banquet hall and delivers the most recent finds. It's the only room in the fortress with enough table space for such a massive jigsaw puzzle.

After a moment, Rashid recognizes the route Ahmed is taking and his scowl deepens. He remains silent, however, until he finds himself hovering on the threshold of Master Quatre's room once more. Unable to imagine what Ahmed's team has found that he himself had not seen earlier, Rashid glances pointedly around the room, pausing to study the nervous faces of his fellow Maguanaqs, and arcs a brow at his guide.

Ahmed gestures to the eastern window.

Without preamble, Rashid approaches the specified casement and looks out across the dusty sea. It is late evening and the sun is now behind him casting its red-gold breath over the world. He strains his eyes to see what his fellows have found so unnerving, but is disappointed.

"Not out there," Ahmed says softly. "Look on the frame."

Rashid retreats a half a step and scans the masonry lining the window itself... and stiffens. In precise, neat calligraphy he instantly identifies as Master Quatre's, Rashid recognizes seven words painstakingly carved into the clay. The message reads:

Duo Maxwell is in danger. Find him.

...ooo...

"Hey, you're looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning!"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Wufei sleepily growls at the vidphone beside his bed, "Maxwell..."

Over the line, Duo chuckles.

Wufei ignores him and rolls onto his back among the badly rumpled sheets. "What are you doing calling me at..." He checks the alarm clock. "...five in the morning..." He mentally gropes for the date. "...on a Sunday?" Wufei grumps in a weary tone, "Aren't you supposed to be on assignment?"

"Not for another thirty-seven minutes according to Heero's itinerary."

Wufei groans softly, knowing he'll be amused later at Yuy's intensive planning tendencies. But for now, he sighs and rolls toward the screen. Forcing his bleary eyes open, he murmurs, "Can't sleep?"

"Yeah," Duo admits, running a hand over his neat braid. "I'm sorry I woke you, Wu, I just..."

Slightly more conscious than he had been a moment ago, Wufei studies the pallor of Duo's skin and the exhaustion-induced bruises beneath his eyes. "Duo? Are you feeling all right?"

The man laughs. "I look that bad, huh?"

"Yeah," Wufei replies mercilessly. "You do." He pauses, momentarily debating deepening the conversation. But realizes rather quickly that the discussion is out of his hands. Had been since he'd answered Duo's call. Quietly, he invites, "Would you care to talk about it?"

"Hm? No, no that's all right, man."

Affecting a wry expression, Wufei inquires, "Then may I ask what the purpose of your call is?"

Duo's expression softens. "I just wanted to tell you that it's not your fault, Wufei."

"Duo?" Wufei frowns at the vidscreen.

"Look after Quatre for me. He needs you."

A wave of anxiety unfurls within Wufei at the sound of Duo's words which sound suspiciously like a farewell. Breathless, Wufei hears himself whisper, "Duo?"

"Take care of yourself, Wu. Later." An instant later, the vidscreen succumbs to darkness.

With a snarled curse and a surge of adrenalin, Wufei throws back his bedclothes...

... and flinches at the late morning sun streaming through his bedroom window. Chest heaving and body shivering with sweat, he blinks this unexpected world into focus. Instinctively, Wufei gropes for something solid in the midst of his confusion. His gaze lands on the clock at his bedside and everything in him freezes.

10:56

A second wave of adrenalin sends him in search of his vidphone. He has to call Duo. He has to make sure he's all right...

But there is no vidphone in the room.

And then he remembers.

Of course there's no vidphone in the room. He'd been attempting some upgrades on it for the last three evenings. Currently, it is sitting in a dismantled pile on his kitchen table. The only functional vidphone in the apartment resides in his office.

And then, as Wufei replays the disturbing tableau, he realizes that the only way he could have had that conversation with Duo would have been through a dream... or a vision.

"Fuck!"

That single word encapsulates all of Wufei's aggravation with his infrequent and often exasperatingly vague visions. What disturbs him more than the finality in Duo's voice is the uncertainty of the conversation's symbolic accuracy.

Hands fisted in the blanket, Wufei nearly tosses it onto the floor. Nearly. The voice coming from his open doorway manages to distract him.

"I don't recall you using that kind of language six months ago, Wufei."

His frustration evaporates, abandoning him to the labored pounding of his heart. He lifts his gaze to the threshold and takes in the sight of a very satisfied-looking young man leaning against the doorframe. Dressed in a pair of multi-pocketed khakis and a tight, powder blue T-shirt, Quatre Winner barely resembles the young man Wufei had intermittently fought a war beside.

Those light blue eyes flash with dark humor as he drinks in Wufei's stunned silence. "I'm sure you're wondering how I got in here, but let's discuss that once we're on the road, shall we?"

Still not quite over his shock – still not sure if he should be concerned over Duo's last words let alone Quatre's sudden appearance – Wufei hears himself snap, "You think I'm going somewhere with you?" Because he has no intention of going anywhere until he's spoken to Duo...

Not taking his gaze off of Quatre, Wufei gropes for his cell phone and punches in his friends' number. He endures Quatre's amused smilet as he endures each ring. When the impersonal, pre-programmed male voice asks him to leave a message, he barks, "It's Wufei. Call me." It requires a massive effort on Wufei's part to keep himself from crushing the phone in his fist once it has snapped shut.

Quatre unfolds his arms from across his chest and braces himself in the doorway. "If you want to find Duo before it's too late, you will." A slow smile curves the blond man's lips. "You will need my help, Wufei."

"I know no such thing," he growls before he can edit his words.

From the doorway, Quatre smirks. "I think you do."

With an effort, Wufei bites back the harsh reply his swirling confusion offers up. Exerting all of his tact, he manages somewhat calmly, "I saw Duo recently. He was fine. What are you doing here?"

"Duo is in danger, Wufei."

"Danger?" Wufei parrots as the sight before him really starts to sink in. He's startled to realize that this self-possessed, dangerous man in his doorway is, in fact, Quatre Winner. He stumbles through a moment of disbelief at the changes in his old comrade.

"Yes, danger. It's a concept that, as a Preventer agent, you ought to be well versed on." Quatre glares at him for a moment before challenging in a soft tone, "Are you coming with me or not?"

Still unable to establish his equilibrium in Quatre's presence, Wufei reacts emotionally, "Are you going to tell me exactly what sort of danger you think Duo is in?"

Quatre's eyes narrow. "Are you really going to sit there and tell me you don't know when you helped create this situation in the first place?"

Aghast at the accusation and cold tone in which it had been delivered, Wufei gasps, "What?"

"Your investigation into the bizarre events of six months ago. Did you really think that the people who evaluated your evidence wouldn't talk? Did you really think the experts you enlisted would be perfectly content keeping a secret like this?"

Wufei wracks his brain for any sign of the media capitalizing on his investigation. "The news reports haven't –"

With a growl of disgust, Quatre strides into the room and tosses open the wardrobe. Selecting the first outfit at hand, he throws it at Wufei's chest. "There are people who pay even more than the media for information on weapons like Duo."

"Weapons? Duo?" Wufei repeats in a voice that is too shocked to properly convey the inquiry.

"We'll discuss this in transit," Quatre promises. His gaze travels over Wufei's bare chest for a moment before continuing, "Now are you going to get dressed or do I have to dress you personally?"

Hands fisting again, Wufei growls, "The last time I saw you, you nearly killed me. Give me one reason to trust you, Winner."

"All right," Quatre replies, "and since I'm feeling magnanimous today I'll throw in a second. First: you don't want anything... permanent to happen to Duo and the longer you sit around here, the greater the chances of that occurring. And second: I've never knowingly betrayed you. Any of you. And considering the fact that I've been able to control my empathy for months now, I won't betray you, unintentionally or otherwise."

Wufei watches in wary, numb silence as Quatre retreats to the living room beyond. Only once the young man has removed his overwhelming presence from his sight can Wufei's scrambled thoughts attempt to catch up to the morning's events.

First and foremost, he considers the dream. He feels very strongly that he should not ignore it; his instinct tells him that he should not completely discount his "conversation" with Duo. Something is wrong.

Still, how uncanny is it that he would wake up to Quatre Winner standing in his doorway informing him of Duo's precarious safety? Uncanny or something more? Wufei wonders at the probability of this situation simply being a coincidence. But then, Quatre hadn't been their most gifted strategist during the wars for nothing...

Considering all of this, can he be trusted?

Wufei doesn't know.

In fact, he's not even sure he still knows Quatre; the last half a year had certainly changed him – hardened him. Wufei fights back a shiver.

Still... dare he let Quatre out of his sight now that the vampire is here?

Closing his eyes, Wufei surrenders to the fact that this is the moment he and Duo had been training for: Quatre's return. He is obligated to do everything within his power to keep Quatre from hurting others.

So, really, offer of assistance or not, Wufei has no choice. He needs to confirm Duo's safety and Quatre absolutely has to accompany him.

"Wufei, I'm not hearing any buttons or zippers moving. Do I need to make good on my offer to dress you personally?"

His eyes snap open at that smooth drawl. Scowling, Wufei tosses the hanger aside and pulls the shirt on over his head. A few moments later – slacks and socks in place – he reaches for his sport jacket... but not before securing the leather straps of his shoulder holster in place beneath it.

...ooo...

"You've received confirmation?"

"Yes, ma'am, we have. Maxwell's team sent us a reply within the specified twenty-four hours."

"Excellent." A knowing pause follows. "I don't suppose they offered any clues as to when they'll be making an appearance?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am."

"Ah, well. It matters little. Any further news on Winner's sudden disappearance?"

"The Maguanaqs have not left the compound. Winner does not appear to be with them. We are currently monitoring their communications."

"Inform me of any changes in their activities."

"Yes, ma'am."

The pause that follows is thick with satisfaction. "Are the teams assembled?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then begin the briefing. I want this to go very smoothly."

"Of course, ma'am."

As the sounds of retreating footsteps echo in the office, a woman leisurely turns in her chair to regard the surrounding landscape through the darkened window. She considers the bleak, desolate land and feels a thrill of anticipation accompanied by a shadow of fear.

In the years since peace had finally seeped into the blood, oil, and gun powder soaked ground, there have been no significant threats. No weapons of any power had been unveiled.

Until recently.

She steeples her fingers and frowns out at the setting sun. She wonders if the engineers who had designed the Gundams had known – or even suspected – the existence of an even greater weapon within their grasp. And now within her grasp.

She smiles at the harsh world beyond her window and allows herself a deep breath. The game is set. The players in motion. She has only to wait for the next move.

Speaking of... perhaps she'd better check in on the briefing to be sure that her people are ready for this challenge. After all, she hadn't earned this command by leaving things up to chance. And she isn't about to start now.

End of Chapter Four

Glossary:

Smilet – (n.) a small grin or smile Taken from "The Word Lover's Dictionary" by Josefa Heifetz