Review replies! Yay!
YiyangYoung: Hope you did well on your test! (jumps around with pompoms, the poor effort reflecting that she was never a cheerleader) Glad you're still reading and enjoying the story! Stuff'll be explained… later. Much later. :P
Sanoske & Shar: Quatre and Tro together in the end? (bites her lower lip, trying not to cackle) Neh heh heh… (then flushes as her hand is repeatedly grabbed and kissed) Eh… (blushblush) Kawaii…
MikaSamu: Glad you like! I try hard to keep the writing as decent as possible, and characters relatively in character. Thanks for recognizing the extreme efforts here! As for evil cliffhangers, I haven't begun (muzzles self before she can say more, then simply gestures at the new chapter, ringing a bell to beckon its arrival)
GundamPilot03: Heh heh. You'll find out what happened a bit later. (wide smile) Glad you liked the chapter!
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-
06:17 Hours --
Trowa leaned his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbow firmly planted upon the armrest molded into the paneling of the Jeep's door. Staring blankly out over the steadily lightening horizon, he watched as the early morning sun rays spilled from a thus far dune-hidden orb of light, caressing the desert sands as swiftly and delicately as a lover's faint touch.
He'd never thought mornings on the desert could be so incredible.
The sunrise shown with glorious hues of orange and yellow, highlighting the eastern end of the desert, making the sky above the brilliant display shimmer a bright happy blue. Delicate wisps of clouds rolled overhead, propelled slowly by some unfelt breeze. The golden sand that lay off either side of the road, stretching as far as the eye could see, glimmered gold like thousands of miniscule nuggets of precious ore.
"Roll up that window, will you? Gonna start heating up real damned soon out there. May as well keep some of the cool in."
Emerald eyes slowly closing, blocking the spectacular of the sun-swept sea of sand from his optical senses, Trowa rolled up the window as James Waverly had instructed.
"Thanks, Trowa," Xavier Johnson happily said, his attention remaining firmly upon the road.
"How much longer?" Trowa asked as he leaned back in his seat, eyes still closed, waves of weariness from lack of sleep lapping softly at his stressed brain.
"Probably about twenty minutes. We'll be there in plenty of time for the changing of the guard at 07:00, my friend. No worries."
'Aa, no worries, Xavier. No worries at all. Keep telling me that, and maybe one decade I'll start believing you.'
14:40 Hours, Yesterday --
"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.
And, in further investigations, he discovered even more intriguing files were stashed within the archive.
Vidclips of the man Heero identified as Doctor J before self-destructing his Gundam, giving orders seemingly created by Quatre.
Email messages stating 'Here's that vidclip of those orders you wanted, 04. Hope you like it!'
And additional messages, scattered all over the place, asking for Quatre to politely stay out of 100.58.808.40s Porno Folder.
Trowa sniggered.
Drumming his fingers on the table, he took another glance over all the information he was looking at. "It's all vital information. I'd think he'd have it locked down more firmly than this."
"What is he doing?"
He chewed on his fingernails, staring at the screen.
06:40 Hours --
The Jeep pulled into the parking lot without hassle or provocation by the guards who stood by its entrance.
Nodding to one another, the three men got out of the vehicle.
"Now remember," Xavier reminded Trowa for what seemed to be the fiftieth time of the trip, "you are Triston Blaine. You are a newly enlisted recruit. You are here under orders of Colonel Genedier, Base #415 - B7."
"My home is Firebough, California. My parents both died during the Gundam attack of the New Edwards based, which they were stationed at as Mobile Suit pilots. Their names are Tracy and Leon Blaine."
"I think he's got it, Xavier," James chuckled behind Trowa's back.
Trowa kept his face perfectly schooled in its neutral mask as they approached the huge mansion that apparently housed Colonel Gregory Channok.
'Channok. Quatre's target. Affiliated with the Romefeller Foundation, which is the directive force behind OZ. Associate of Douglas Kisslinger, partner of Tuberoff, creator of the Mobile Doll system.'
'Alright, so it's obvious why Quatre would go after someone in this position.'
'Just wonder why he chose whoever this guy is.'
He found himself looking at the lips of the man speaking to him.
"Triston Blaine from Base #415 - B7, sir. Sent by Colonel Genedier."
"Oh, so you're Blaine, eh? Welcome to Arabia, hottest hellhole on earth," the Captain, according to his bars, chuckled as he clapped Trowa upon his back. "Ready for your first duty, recruit?"
"Yes, sir."
"Excellent. You and your friends here start your watch shift at 07:00 Hours. You're going to be with Johnson, guarding the East wing's interior. Waverly, the Colonel wants to meet you in the basement before you start North end."
"Got'cha, sir," James said with a smirk as he saluted sharply and marched off.
Trowa watched as the other soldier walked away, turning his gaze only when he felt Xavier's hand fall upon his shoulders. Turning, he gazed blankly into the chocolate eyes that were focused on his.
"Shall we go get some doughnuts, Triston?"
"Sure thing."
10:08 Hours --
Trowa resisted the urge to sigh once more.
One hundred steps to the end of the hallway. Turn left. Fifty steps to the end of that hallway. Turn right. Twenty steps. Nod to Xavier to signify all clear. Walk around the corner, continue roundabout patrol, checking in from time to time with the soldiers passed to signify that everything was clear.
It was so redundant.
But at least he could keep his eye on the other soldier. With patrol so tight, there was no way that Xavier Johnson could slip away from him.
Trowa still didn't trust the man.
Shaking his head, he turned around again. This time, however, he paused.
He heard voices on the other side of the door.
06:55 Hours --
"What else do I need to know?"
Xavier quickly stuffed the last of his cherry jelly-filled doughnut into his mouth and licked the glazed sugar coating off his fingertips. "I think you've got it all, Triston. You know what's going on, home and here. No problem, right?"
Trowa nodded, as he took his last bite of his chocolate ring and picked up his coffee mug. "So, where's James?"
"Ah hell, who knows? James is one of those special Sergeants, you know. Special rate and everything."
"What?"
"Interrogator. He specializes in torture. Kind of freaky, when you think about it."
'Torture….'
'Of course, I already knew that.'
"And he takes pleasure in his work?" Trowa asked, arching one brow as he lifted his mug to his lips to sip his coffee.
"Apparently. James… he's kind of a creep, but you get used to him."
"And on a private note."
"Eh?" Xavier questioned, slurping from his orange juice container, leaning forward on his bench.
"His loyalties."
"We'll discuss that at 'home', my friend, when we're well away from prying ears."
10:10 Hours --
Trowa slowed his walk down the hallway, bringing himself to a stop outside of the door. Glancing around, he frowned, noting a security camera pointed right where he was.
'Damn. Can't listen in. At least, not so obviously.'
Leaning against the door, he calmly fished through his pants pockets. And, with a satisfied smile, he drew a package of Double Mint gum from the left rear pocket. Drawing a stick, he popped it into his mouth, disengaged himself from the door, and continued on.
The tiny receiver planted on the doorjamb fit in perfectly with the stained oak that made up the trim of the walls.
Reaching a slender finger as if to scratch at his newfound sideburns created by slicking his hair back with Duo's styling gel, he calmly pushed the receiver more firmly into his ear.
07:00 Hours --
Glancing down the hallway, Trowa nodded before returning his attention to the map before him. "I've got the patrol route. No problem."
"Excellent," Xavier said with a smile. Leaning closer, he whispered in his ear. "Cover if I vanish. I'm going to periodically check the computer systems to see if I can pinpoint what we're looking for. I'm certain that if James is doing anything worthwhile, he's probably going to try the same thing. Hopefully by tonight we can get you permanently out of here. It's a bit risky shuttling you around, you know."
Trowa simply nodded. "I've got it. Jelly doughnuts, to be delivered…"
"HUSH! Geez, call everyone down on us, you bastard," Xavier said with a grin.
Trowa winked slightly.
Xavier nodded, indicating his comprehension of the cover. "Alright, recruit. Get to your post."
Saluting smartly, Trowa clicked his heels together to make the gesture more mocking than it already was. "Aye aye, sir!"
"Land soldier."
"Oo-ra!"
Xavier laughed out loud as Trowa let the slightest of smirks pass upon his face, turned away and marched off down his assigned patrol path.
10:11 Hours --
Trowa frowned as he narrowed his eyes, focusing his attention more on his hearing than his sight at the moment.
The conversation that was occurring behind the bugged door was difficult to hear.
"You shouldn't have been moving around, pet. With your injuries…" a deep voice crooned quietly.
"Gomen nasai, Gregory. I just…" whispered a lighter one.
"No excuses. You're to remain laying upon that mattress until you heal."
"H… hai." The quieter voice laughed lightly.
"I still feel so wretched for not noticing your injuries until after we'd-"
"It's alright," the light voice interrupted, the hint of a giggle upon its edge. "I've seen worse."
"Really… a creature like you, having seen abuse worse than such? I can hardly imagine…"
Attempting to resist the urge to gag, Trowa scratched at his sideburn by his right ear, discretely discarding of the minute microphone he'd hidden away. Rounding a corner, he tossed it into a potted plant's soil.
His vivid teenage imagination was giving him more imagery based on the conversation he'd just overheard than he wished to see across his mind's eye.
Suddenly, his footsteps stopped.
Feeling sweat upon his forehead, Trowa spared the slightest of glances back before hurriedly continuing his march along his patrol route, hoping to finish it more quickly than usual as to return to that doorway.
He'd finally recognized the softer, higher pitched voice he'd heard in that room.
'Quatre….'
tbc...
