(grateful bow) Thank you for the reviews! And now for some replies:

Wolfkun: Ohhhh, he has yet to sink into the mire of plots that're circling… over his head? (wicked smile) It gets deeper. Trust me.

LilXzibits57: Updated as quickly as I could! Busy on the weekends, hellishly long workdays, duty… the fun of being in the Navy. Glad you like the story! (bow)

GundamPilot03: I aim to please! Glad you're still reading and enjoying this! And… well, Tro's got a lot more discoveries to go. (cackle)

Sanoske & Shar: Thanks for the review! I know Tro curses a bit, but… well, one can't always control what one thinks, neh? Heh heh. And Shar, hi-fives. Quatre's 'wow' now? Juuuuust wait. (big happy grin)

YiyangYoung: To answer your question, I don't include specific dates for one reason: the anime didn't give us any until the Eve War, and that didn't even get dated until Endless Waltz came out. This story takes place entirely in timeline, so to keep it easier on myself no dates were included. It just takes place a little more than a month after the New Edwards attack, as that's when Heero first opens his pretty eyes and goes "Hn" once more. :) Figured he needed plenty of time to convalesce, so there was plenty of time for Tro to have an impromptu mission (even though they all stopped after New Edwards. That 'continuity flub' is actually explained in this chapter. Huzzah!). And I'm glad you got the humor in the scene with the computer. Yes, they hate us. I realize this every day of my life at work – save for Macintosh. Macs love us and adore us. (hugs her iMac, begging it to continue working for her) Yay, Unix!

Yes, I'm long winded. Deal. :) I like giving personal attention to everyone who reviews.

Disclaimer: I in no way own Gundam W. Don't sue; I'm simply an E-5 in the USN, therefore I have no money. Ha.

-BEGIN FIC-

14:20 Hours --

He felt a satisfied smirk form upon his lips as he closed the file he was perusing. Then, something caught his eye.

It was a word file entitled 'contact log' that was saved on the desktop.

Curious, Trowa opened it.

22:40 Hours --

Trowa sighed as he pulled the flaps of fabric across his chest and buttoned them in place. His fingers deftly slid each latch into place with ease and swiftness, even when clad in thick white gloves. Looking at himself in the mirror, he straightened his cap upon his head and tugged his uniform shirt into place.

Once again, he was the OZ soldier.

He smirked within his mind. For some reason, this role was becoming second nature to him. Almost as second nature as the role of Trowa Barton.

Glancing behind his back, he arched a brow as Duo marched in.

Deathscythe's pilot smiled happily as he walked to Trowa's side and looped an arm over his shoulder. "Well, holy shit. Don't you just look the part."

"It should be adequate to get me into the complex."

"Meeting downstairs in five minutes, man. Chad and James are here and waiting."

'Chad and James. Lesley and Waverly. Quatre's other contacts within the OZ organization. The other people he's paying off for their allegiance,' Trowa's brain reminded him.

"Just don't forget pants, dude."

"Aa."

Trowa felt a small trickle of sweat drip from his brow as he studied the mirror, then snorted at his own absentmindedness as he marched back over to his closet.

He'd thought it'd felt a bit drafty.

18:00 Hours --

Trowa stared at the curry that was set before him.

"Too spicy for you?" Xavier said with a grin and a laugh as he spooned a good helping into his mouth and chewed.

"C'mon, Trowa. It's not that bad!" Duo quipped, doing the same.

Trowa simply arched a brow as the violet-eyed boy waved his hands before his mouth and chugged an entire glass of milk but moments after swallowing his first spoonful of food.

Returning his gaze to his plate, Trowa sighed.

'It's not the food I'm worried about. It's Quatre. Right now, he's out with a Romefeller officer, infiltrating his household according to what Johnson's told me. He's in danger. And he's injured.'

Frowning, he glowered at a chunk of meat.

'Those injuries… they were extensive. He should be laying down and recovering, not running around like some damned fool masterminding his game with his living pieces. He needs to recover. Nothing life-threatening, but…'

'But whoever gave those to him knew exactly what he was doing. Just enough to cause pain without permanent injury.'

He pushed the food around with his spoon.

"Gonna play with it all night?" Xavier asked, glancing over.

"I still don't trust you."

Both pilot and OZ soldier stared at Trowa, as the outburst filtered past his lips.

"Really."

"Aa."

"Because I'm with OZ?"

"Iya."

"Why?"

"Because… I don't. You aren't telling me everything. And your quickness to betray your organization is unusual."

Xavier smirked as he shoved another spoonful of curry between his lips. "Hmph."

22:45 Hours --

Trowa kept his posture straight and tall as he walked down the stairs.

All eyes turned to him.

Nodding, he walked to an empty seat and placed himself on it. Turning his gaze to his companions in the room, he critically studied each, his eyes slightly narrowed as his brain processed everything his eyes were showing him.

Xavier Johnson. Leaning back casually upon the couch, his legs loosely crossed, dressed in blue jeans and a loose fitting white tee shirt. Thin and wiry with an angular face and a quick smirk. Brown hair, closely cropped and spiky, brown eyes that remained firmly set on everything they saw, never wavering once.

Chad Lesley. Sitting upright and at attention, both feet firmly planted on the floor, dressed in brown slacks and a tan shirt. A little heavy set, with a round face and a sparse beard with a moustache flirting with a stiff, straight lip. Also one with mouse-brown hair and chocolate eyes, always staring at whomever was speaking at the moment.

James Waverly. Also leaning back on the couch, his arms splayed out to either side of him, his knees casually spread, dressed in jean shorts that came to his knees and a white tank top that hugged a very muscular body. He had a ruggedly handsome face that housed dark hazel eyes, framed by long unbound brown hair that hung well past his shoulders. And constantly his face wore a smug smile, displaying pearly white teeth.

Duo Maxwell. Casually draped over both armrests of the chair he was laying in, his feet kicking idly in the air, his chin sitting in his hands which were braced only by the elbows which were pressed to the sides of the chair's armrest. His long braid had long since flopped off his back, leaving its end curled on the floor. Dark violet eyes stared suspiciously at the three men at the couch, casting a furtive glance to Trowa every once in a great while.

Catching Duo's gaze, Trowa shrugged.

'No, Duo. I don't know which one's the least trustworthy amongst this bunch, either.'

"Weeeell," Duo began, stretching out one leg, "why don't you gentlemen please inform us of your great and glorious plan is for getting our buddy out of danger?"

Xavier was the first to speak, holding up a finger. "Actually, it's not our intention to break him out. Quatre knows what he's doing. I don't think he'd appreciate the break in his plans."

Trowa snorted softly. "However, in doing what he's doing, he's endangering himself and the mission."

"True," said James, shrugging. "Which is precisely why we're going to snatch everything Gregory has on the Foundation from his personal computers while he's busy playing with our little blond friend. That way, the mission's covered. And he can get his ass out of there more quickly."

"Hmmmm," Duo mused, scratching his chin. "I don't much like that. Requires more infiltration."

"And after our base raid, we're hot targets," Trowa finished.

Duo nodded. "Exactly."

Xavier nodded. "Which is why we're thinking that it should be one of us going."

'I thought as much,' Trowa's brain spat.

"After all," the soldier said, straightening himself for but a moment to pull his white shirt back into place, "we're not targets. We're loyal, trustworthy soldiers. Or so they think."

"It'd be easy for any one of us to infiltrate," Chad finally contributed.

James smirked. "Easy as hell. And we can check up on your buddy while whoever's going is there, neh? Stop you two from worryin' about him."

Trowa felt his eyes narrow as he stared at the man called James Waverly.

"That's what you're so worried about, isn't it?" he said, his arrogant smile turning predatory. "I wouldn't worry so much. The kid knows how to take care of himself," Waverly finished with a shrug.

"Aa," confirmed Chad with a nod. "He's a seasoned soldier, capable of handling the situation he's put himself into."

Duo snorted softly. "Just because he's a soldier doesn't mean he's going to come out of this smelling like roses and successful as hell. The unexpected can cause all kinds of misery with even the best thought out of plans."

"Very true," Chad said, "but you forget that you're talking about what I call your most perfect strategist. His weapon is his intellect, Mr. Maxwell, and he has that in excess. He'll be able to compensate for any unexpected turns."

"You hope," Duo hissed.

The three soldiers simply looked at Duo.

"Otherwise, you die."

14:25 Hours --

Trowa scowled as he opened the file.

"Login:"

This was beginning to drive him nuts.

So, once more, he hit 'enter,' wondering if it would allow him in as a guest.

He scowled.

"Entry invalid. Please re-enter."

Typing quickly, he imputed "Quatre Raberba Winner."

"Password: hint: Who do you love?"

'Huh?' went Trowa's brain as he stared at the screen. Shaking his head, he snorted and hit the enter key.

"Can't remember, Quatre? Why don't you work around it:P From, Yourself."

Trowa stared for a few moments at the clue.

Then the light bulb went on upstairs. Maneuvering the mouse, he quit the file and went under the preferences file. Clicking on the users application he quickly browsed.

"Create New User."

"Trowa Barton. Password, Enigma3004."

'Ha.'

And, with a smirk, he went back to the file.

"Login:"

Nodding, he logged himself in.

"Welcome, Trowa!"

'Yes!'

23:00 Hours --

Trowa nodded as he slowly closed the door between the living room and the dining room. "Your thoughts, Duo?"

Duo snorted, crossing his arms over his thin chest, his eyes narrowed as he glowered at the door. "I don't trust any of them."

"Neither do I. But if you had to choose amongst them?"

"I… don't know. They're each creepy in their own way. Especially that Waverly guy."

Trowa nodded.

"Xavier's the coolest of the bunch, though."

"You really think so?" Trowa asked, arching a brow.

"Trust me. I'm usually very good at pegging personality types. I think he's definitely hiding something from us, but at the same time, he's the one among them that I trust the most. Which, obviously, isn't saying much at all."

"Right. What do you think he's hiding?"

"Ah hell… I don't know. But something's just… unnerving. How easily he's giving us all this information. He just shows up, introduces himself, gives us that disk you were trying to steal, tells us where Quatre is and what he's doing… it all seems way too convenient, doesn't it? Like he's covering something that he doesn't want us to know by throwing what we want to hear out to us like he was throwin' money to bums."

Trowa nodded. Duo's thoughts were running along the same paths as his own.

"But the one thing that's got me trusting him is the look of doubt in his eyes."

"Huh?" Trowa glanced over, his green eyes belaying some slight confusion.

"Listen to the others, Trowa. 'He'll be fine. He's a soldier. Don't worry about him. He can take care of himself.' All that shit. It's like they know something we don't, and are trying to hide it from us. Just 'cause a guy's a soldier doesn't make him invincible… if they think I'm gonna believe that for a second, they're dead wrong."

"Duo…"

Trowa simply stared at the shivering boy, his eyes softening slightly as Duo lifted a hand to the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger, wiping away threatening tears. Clearing his throat, Duo glared back at the door.

"Ch'. Bein' a soldier doesn't keep you out of Death's hands. We all know that."

"Duo, about Heero…"

Smiling faintly, the longhaired pilot closed his eyes. "Later, Trowa. Later…. Right now, let's just focus on Quatre, neh? Before he becomes nothin' but a memory, too."

Something in Trowa's chest did flip-flops, falling with a sickening kerthump amongst his intestines.

Swallowing harshly, the green-eyed boy turned his gaze back to the door and the three men he imagined he could see through it.

His heart clenched in a tight ball that refused to beat.

"Before he becomes nothin' but a memory, too."

'No.'

'Not my Quatre.'

14:30 Hours --

Trowa stared.

The contact log file was finally open.

'How…!'

And it displayed the IP numbers of every one of the Gundam pilots' personal computers, the networking numbers to the Gundam mission logs themselves, and rerouting numbers to disguise the Winner's terminal as one belonging to the scientists who were delivering mission orders and parameters.

In addition to that, mission orders came up.

Missions from the last month, since their meeting at New Edwards.

Future missions that had yet to come into play, apparently on a timer to be sent on appropriate dates.

All in accordance to some grander scheme that remained yet unexplained.

Trowa frowned as his eyes found a file he was hoping he wouldn't find.

"Barton: Travel to Base 143 - A19 to retrieve personnel records and watch schedules. Mission parameters: time - 2 days to complete, casualty allowable - 20 staff, equipment - personal armament. NO GUNDAM. Data recon only. Begin preparations at 02:00 Hours. reroute code: 770.93.283.01 file name: S"

"This mission was Quatre's plan entirely…."

"We've been following -his- orders…?"

Trowa smirked.

"Wonder how long this has truly been going on."

Then, with an upraised brow, he frowned.

"And I wonder why this was so easy to find…."

Shaking his head, Trowa continued perusing the file.

23:20 Hours --

Stepping out of the dining room, Trowa and Duo moved back to their chairs.

"We agree with your infiltration plan," Trowa started.

"Great!" Xavier chimed, his smile instantly appearing.

"With one change."

"Which is?"

"I'm going."

James narrowed his eyes. "That would do nothing but endanger all of us. You're the one that infiltrated before."

Trowa slowly nodded. "I know. However, I also recall that only you three, Browens the recently deceased and your Captain Bradshaw truly witnessed my last infiltration attempt and understood it for what it was. I doubt it will be likely that I will encounter your Captain or any of the other soldiers I temporarily served with will be at this 'Channok's' residence."

Chad sighed, slowly nodding. "I see."

"I don't trust you. Any of you," Trowa said, his green eyes narrowing dangerously while the rest of his face remained in its schooled, emotionless mask. "But since I will require assistance, I will take Johnson and Waverly with me. Lesley will return to your base camp to cover your absence. Duo will remain here to protect our interests."

Duo grinned, and shook his head. "Geez, Trowa, listen to you. Taking charge, giving orders, landing me with the boring jobs…."

Trowa quelled a chuckle, turning and flashing a rare wink at the other pilot that was happily returned.

Duo sighed, the movement highly exaggerated, as he flexed his fingers and looped his hands behind his head. "Damn, damn, damn. Well, guess I can stay here. Miss all the action. Shit. But at least I can keep an eye on our happy little neighbors, neh?"

Trowa watched Chad's reaction as Duo turned a rather disturbingly manic grin his way.

And Trowa arched a brow as the OZ soldier frowned for a split second before shrugging.

00:00 Hours --

Trowa grumbled as he replaced his cap upon his head.

It was something he deemed an unnecessary precaution, but then again, Duo did have a point. He might very well be recognized.

Still, it didn't stop him from being disgusted with what he had just done to his head.

'Duo better be right about the holding capabilities of this stuff, or I'll never forgive him.'

With his hair firmly gelled back, Trowa sighed and walked toward Johnson and Waverly, noting that the two were already in uniform and ready to go.

"The jeep?" Xavier suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Trowa offered as he walked toward the vehicle. "Xavier, you drive."

James scowled before shrugging and climbing into the back behind his comrade.

00:02 Hours --

Duo waved as he stood upon the front lawn, watching the jeep roar down the road to the east, its black form lit by the faint light of the moon and the twinkling stars that hung in the midnight sky.

Seconds later, though, all Duo saw was a field of black as his face crashed into the plush grass.

tbc...