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-

07:38 Hours --

Grabbing his soldering iron, he placed the hot tip to the wire and gently eased it away.

From within the room, he heard the grinding of gears and gentle tinkling sounds.

'What the hell!'

Bolting upright, he ripped the door open, and stared with unbelieving eyes.

The pyramidal chandelier that dominated the center of the room's ceiling had descended.

22:20 Hours --

Trowa sat calmly upon the hill overlooking Gregory Channok's OZ provided mansion, his emerald eyes narrowed and glistening with the faint light of the stars and moon above.

Tugging his denim jacket more firmly in place, the soldier sighed quietly as he adjusted his position upon the grassy hill, fervently hoping he wasn't getting grass stains on the butt of his favorite jeans.

Glancing down at his wrist, he lightly tapped the buttons on his watch. The gentle blue light of the indiglo face caressed his pupils.

'10:20 PM, eh? He's running a bit late.'

Turning his eyes back on the mansion, Trowa let his fingers tenderly stroke the Barrett M90 sitting upon its stand next to him, taking time to linger over the cool, sleek, pleasant AWD Turbodyne suppressor.

07:40 Hours --

Trowa stared in awe.

The chess table with the aquarium base was gone, the floor where it was located having dropped below the rest of the deck, taking the chunk of rug that was atop of it with it. Hanging from thick chains and attached to pulley gears above, the section of ceiling with the chandelier hanging from it now dangled at waist height above the room's floor.

Atop of the suspended 'table' was a computer.

Finally done gawking, Trowa slowly walked into the room.

First thing he did was to lie on the floor below the suspended chandelier and peer into the hole.

'Interesting. THAT'S how they service the aquarium.'

Slowly backing out of his position, he stood up and stared at the computer. Drawing one of the huge, plush chairs over, he hit the power button.

Welcome to Winner Industries: Mainframe

Enter Login Name:

Shrugging, he started digging through his pockets.

01:15 Hours, 2 Days Ago --

He'd finally made it out of the ventilation shaft.

Shaking himself, watching billowing clouds of dust float from his body, he snorted quietly and looked around.

Headlights were visible.

Judging by their size and distance from one another, the vehicle was about 50 feet away.

Eyes adjusting slowly in the scanty light of night, Trowa slowly made his way towards the vehicle. Upon reaching it, he slithered into the passenger seat and nodded to the driver.

"Ah, finally made it, eh? Been waiting out here for damned near 20 minutes."

"It's a longer crawl than you'd think."

"Really!" Xavier turned to him and smiled before starting the Jeep's engine and rolling towards the gates. "By the way, get onto the floorboards. I've gotta get us by security, you know."

Trowa complied and didn't move an inch as he felt a blanket and boxes being dumped onto his sore, beaten body. He strained his ears to hear the conversation, noting with a nearly audible sigh of relief that no questions were asked and that the Jeep began rolling happily back down the path again, undisturbed and apparently free of pursuit.

"You can come up now," Xavier's voice chortled after about ten minutes of time had elapsed.

Slowly and painfully getting out from under the boxes, Trowa sighed and eased himself into his seat. "Thanks."

"No problem at all, man. Just followin' orders."

"I see."

"By the way," Xavier started, gesturing towards the glove box, "you'll find a slip of paper in there for you. Quatre told me to get it to you, no matter what the cost. Don't worry, ain't been tampered with." Flashing a reassuring smile, he quickly returned his attention to the road before him.

Trowa opened the cubbyhole, and peered inside.

He lifted a sealed envelope from its dark depths. Turning it over in his hands, he nodded, reading the kanji script flowing neatly across its front.

"So, what's it say? I can't read that language. What, is that Arabic?"

Trowa simply shook his head, as he translated, "Open me later. You'll know when."

07:46 Hours --

Trowa drew the battered envelope out of his back pocket and turned it over.

'Now's as good of a time as any.'

Sliding his finger under the flap, he broke the flimsy glue seal and drew the note out that was within. He slowly unfolded it, then let his eyes rove over the message. After a few moments, those roving eyes widened considerably.

"Login: Quatre Raberba Winner Password: H-ArmsP-TB03falseUNK"

'H-ArmsP-TB03falseUNK…?'

Slowly, he typed in Quatre's name, then hit enter.

The computer monitor flicked to the next screen.

Login:

(hint: Dreams)

(Note: Case-sensitive)

His fingers carefully entered the series of letters, hyphens and numbers that were written on the paper. Pressing enter, he watched as the screen flashed again, then brought up the Winner Industries company logo.

'I'm in.'

Glancing down at the paper again, he frowned.

'Dreams?'

22:31 Hours --

Trowa sighed quietly.

'What's taking so long? According to that sheet, he should be here.'

Suddenly, fire erupted from somewhere on the sprawling mansion's grounds.

'Finally.'

Slowly rising, Trowa stretched and cracked his knuckles even as OZ Mobile Suits were brought out of bunkers previously hidden in the sprawling lush lands that bordered the harsh desert and flew as quickly as possible to the site of the attack to defend their location.

07:50 Hours --

'Hm. Select Language, eh? Wonderful array of choices you have here, Quatre.' Trowa's fingers grasped the mouse, and slowly slid it to his choice. Clicking, he nodded, waiting for the computer to process his request.

This, of course, did not take nearly as long as he expected. Soon he was presented with nothing more than a blank screen.

'What the hell? Did I just kick myself out of the system?'

Letters began scrolling over the screen.

'System user.'

'By your language selection, you have just proven that you are not Quatre Raberba Winner. Please enter your name.'

'Damn.'

With a shrug, Trowa sighed. "What the hell," he quietly muttered as he looked down at the piece of paper that said, "After typing in these bits of information, just follow the directions on the screen. No trying to hack around it, and no trying to deceive it. :)"

"Fine."

His fingers inputted 'Trowa Barton.'

The screen flickered again, this time bringing up a text file.

Trowa quietly read it out loud.

"Trowa, if you are reading this, it can only mean that I've been captured and that the plan has all but completely derailed. Very likely, this is because someone attempted to infiltrate in a vain attempt to rescue me, even though this was strictly against mission parameters for this assignment. But there's no interrupting the flow of time and reversing what's been done, neh?"

Shaking his head, he sighed. "Sorry, Quatre," he whispered before continuing.

"The board that is set up behind you and to your left at this moment in time carries upon it the strategy for this particular mission. All pieces are to be disregarded. That plan no longer works, as is evident by the fact that you are reading this file. Please move the queen from this board to the one directly east of it, and place that piece at square D5. I will be working with this board later."

Rising from his chair, he did as told without question, then returned and continued reading.

"Now at 22:20 tonight, you will need to carry out one more assignment at the current residence of Gregory Channok. If my assumptions are correct and a sliver of my plan is still in action, the mansion will be under attack. You will need to stop the infiltrator from completely destroying the facility. If that facility goes down, I'm going to be going down with it."

Trowa nodded. 'That makes sense. Destroy the prison, you kill the prisoners.'

"There's a pretty little rifle you can use in my room. Mysha knows where it is, and will fetch it for you."

'Great. Saves my ammunition.'

"Make certain that before you leave you repair the wire you had to snap to get onto this terminal. The desktop computer has already been hacked by someone other than yourself - this is assuredly known, as it is relatively unsecured. The mission logs and data that are on that computer, though, are to the main extent of things falsified, so don't worry about leaving it wide open for hacking. :) You always forget to clear history if you're in a hurry, you know."

'Eep!'

"When you return to this room, please continue with this session. Retype the login name and password, reselect your language, follow the simple instructions, and this file will continue at that time."

'Fine.'

"Good luck, Trowa. I'm depending on you."

'Hold on, Quatre. I'm coming.'

Nodding, he reached for the switch, and flicked the terminal off, his eyes failing to skim over the last sentence that appeared on the screen before it died into blackness.

22:33 Hours --

Laying behind his sniper rifle, Trowa slowly twisted the screw upon the stand, lowering the barrel of the gun. Peering through the telescope site, he watched the world through a crosshair-laced tunnel, attempting desperately to find the source of the explosion.

Soon he saw the person behind the attack racing through the mansion's courtyard, running for the mansion itself.

Trowa carefully took aim.

18:19 Hours --

Trowa sat down in the kitchen, nodding to the servant who brought him a plate of mutton over rice.

"Woah, where the hell're you going?" came a laughing, jesting voice from behind him.

"Out."

"Gonna need a ride?"

"No."

"Who're you planning to assassinate with that thing?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Trowa stared blankly at Xavier Johnson, who was gawking happily at the large rifle strapped to the Gundam pilot's back.

"We'll see."

22:35 Hours --

Trowa squeezed the trigger.

The figure of the mansion's attacker fell.

Racing down the hill, Trowa tore towards the downed body, pistol now in hand as he leapt over the short perimeter shrubs. With a summersault and a half dozen twists, he hurled himself over the twelve-foot tall chain-link fence that guarded the mansion grounds, and hefted his gun as soon as he landed.

Quickly, he took out all four soldiers that were already surrounding the downed person, shooting each cleanly through their skulls.

Running over, he laid a hand upon the shoulder of the person he'd seen fall.

"You alright?"

"FUCK! Blasted out my damned foot, you lousy motherless bitch!"

"You'll live, Duo."

tbc...