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.

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19:19 Hours --

Trowa watched through narrowed eyes.

'Come on, make your move,' he mentally hissed as he stared at the television set, the grayscale images produced on the flickering screen caressing his eyes with their gentle light.

Trowa was seated in the small, hidden room that held the control center for the manor's security system. Currently he was glowering at the monitor that was relayed to the cameras stationed throughout the chess room, watching a lank and tall figure that wandered from board to board, observing each while scratching his chin.

'Come on, James. I know you're up to something. Now do something.'

James Waverly glanced around, as if looking for security cameras. With a satisfied, smug smirk the man took a bite of the sandwich he was carrying in his right hand, walked over to one selected board and reached out.

Trowa gulped, watching the older man's hand lightly caress the queen.

The professional torturer waited a moment before picking the piece up and shaking his head as he slipped it into his pocket.

'What the hell!'

James' hand hovered over the board for another moment, moving a few of the OZ pieces before placing an unidentified rook on the square the queen had previously occupied.

Trowa felt his hands clench upon the tabletop as he stared at the monitor.

James was smiling directly at the camera.

Walking directly towards the lens that was secreted away above the door, James Waverly stood on his tiptoes before the wooden barrier to the hallway. He reached up with a fingertip.

And he stuffed a piece of the sandwich he was gnawing on into the tiny niche that held the camera, completely blocking Trowa's view of the room.

Cursing, the green-eyed boy was on his feet in a moment.

'Woah, calm down!' Trowa's brain attempted to tell his body as he began to march towards the door to the security room, intent on pounding a certain OZ soldier to death with his bare hands.

'Think, Trowa. If you march over there now, he'll know for certain that you were observing his actions.'

'Meaning he might change his plans. That would completely dismiss all the work you've done thus far in attempting to figure out what he's up to.'

'That's right. So we calm down. Take a deep breath. Sit back down. See what Xavier's doing in the kitchen. That's monitor number nineteen.'

17:10 Hours --

Leaning back on the couch, Trowa watched as Duo randomly flicked through channels at what had to be comparable to the speed of light.

"How can you watch TV like this? It's giving me a headache," Xavier Johnson grumbled, reclining in one of the room's chairs.

Chad Lesley quietly chuckled, shaking his head.

The four men were in the living room, sitting uneasily in the recently cleaned and refurbished room. They were staring at a television set that while considerably smaller than the one that recently met its untimely demise in the actual mansion was still fairly huge to normal standards. By Trowa's calculations, the thing had to be a 52" screen.

Trowa turned in his seat, hearing footsteps approaching in the hallway.

"Pro'ly servants," Duo muttered, chewing on a stick of beef jerky.

"No."

"No?"

"Waverly."

The other three turned and set their eyes upon the newcomer as he stepped into the room.

Smirking, the OZ officer shoved his hands into his white pants' pockets, and nodded. "Well, nice to see all of you, too."

"What are you doing here?"

"Heh. Hello to you as well, Mr. Barton."

"Just answer the damned question," Duo softly snorted.

"Checking in, of course," James Waverly said with a grin.

"Hey, James! Step on in!" Xavier called with a smile.

Chad, meanwhile, was watching him with narrowed eyes.

Moments later, Trowa found himself in the uncomfortable position of having James seated between him and Duo upon the couch. The man had his boots on the coffee table before him, apparently lounging easily in the cushions of the furniture.

"Heh. This place looks pretty damned good for being blown up. And glad to see you're back in one piece, kiddo."

18:30 Hours --

Trowa glanced over at the other man as he rummaged through the refrigerator searching for something cold to drink. "Remember. Muslim household."

"Damn. Forgot about that," James snarled quietly as he selected instead a pitcher of blue liquid.

'Kool-aid?'

"Heh. Always was a fan of Kool-aid," James said with a grin as he poured himself a glass and replaced the pitcher in the fridge.

"If you have some time, James, I need to ask you a few questions."

The OZ soldier arched a brow, then shrugged. "Go for it. Don't know how I'm going to answer you, but go ahead and ask all you like."

"Fair enough," Trowa said with a shrug.

"So, what do you want to know?"

"You set up that bomb?"

"Nope."

Trowa arched a brow. 'That's what I expected. Denial. It's what everyone's been doing.'

"I just made it. It was actually meant for the Gundam in the hangar below."

'WHAT!'

17:22 Hours --

Duo and Trowa both stared with wide eyes at James, even as Chad and Xavier glowered through narrowed ones.

"How the fuck did you know about that?" Duo softly hissed, his huge violet eyes finally narrowing into dangerous, glimmering slits.

"Simple," James said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "You don't think that news of the huge manor to the east going 'kaboom' doesn't make the barrack news? Besides, being as how I was in the Jeep when we got back, I got to see the whole damned thing. You were missing in the body count, so figured you skipped out for awhile."

"Hmph. Likely explanation," the braided pilot softly whispered.

'I agree, Duo,' Trowa silently thought.

Apparently, the two other OZ officials in the room, judging by the glowers that they were giving their 'comrade' shared that thought.

"So, what's been happening on the home front while I was away?"

"Nothing much," Xavier said with a shrug, leaning back into his chair with a sigh.

"Nothing besides watching this place being detonated, you mean? Cool. I'd hate to think that I'm missing out on anything interesting."

The five sat in silence, watching Duo's pace through the channels do nothing but increase.

'He's nervous. His hand is trembling. That's what's making his finger press so rapidly on the button.'

Frowning, Trowa rose from his seat and stepped across James' knees to stand before Duo. Lightly placing a hand on his fellow pilot's shoulder, he sighed. "Want to get something to eat?"

"Sure. Nothing on, anyway," Duo said with a quick grin, tossing the remote into Waverly's lap and nearly running out of the room with Trowa hot on his heels.

18:33 Hours --

"You have a lot of explaining to do," Trowa said as he lifted the spoon full of lentil soup to his lips and sipped.

Shrugging, James stretched in his seat. "I'll explain what I want to explain."

"How did you know…?"

"What? That there's a Gundam here?"

Trowa nodded silently.

"Simple. I'm privy to more than you think."

'I don't like that answer.' "Quatre told you?"

"Fuck no," James said with a laugh, shaking his head. "That little bastard's told me next to nothing. However, if you watch him closely enough, you can determine what his moves are gonna be."

'Oh really.'

James sipped his Kool-aid and smirked. "And you probably want to know why I targeted your buddy, right?"

Narrowing his eyes, Trowa nodded. 'He knows that Deathscythe is Duo's, hm? Doesn't suspect that it's mine or Quatre's… how much does this guy know?'

"It's simple. Because of either of you, he's more liable to just fly in and blow shit up, thinking that'll solve everything. At last you have a shred of logic. Of anyone to be stopped to preserve what we've been working towards, it's him. And the easiest way to stop him from fucking blowing everything to hell is to rig the cockpit so he blows his own ass off when he sits down in his mobile suit."

"And the television?"

"Johnson's too fucking brainless to try anything like that. I'm suspecting Lesley."

"Lesley was suspecting you. So was Johnson."

"Well, one man's words against the others. What the fuck're you going to do about it, Barton?"

Trowa sighed softly. "Determine which of you is more trustworthy."

"Heh," James said with a laugh. "Good luck. If I were you, I wouldn't trust any of us."

Trowa nodded.

"Of course, that doesn't mean that none of us are trustworthy. If none of us were, Quatre wouldn't entrust us with dealing with you people."

"Speaking of Quatre…"

"He's fine."

Trowa arched a brow.

"That's what you're so worried about, isn't it, Barton? Swear, you're as easy to read as a book."

Letting his eyes slowly drift closed, Trowa soaked in his words for a few minutes. 'Easy to read as a book, hm? Most people don't find it that simple.'

"But as I was saying, you don't have to worry about him too much. Ol' Channok finds him too entertaining to dispose of him. Yeah, he's bein' kept on a short leash, but that doesn't mean that he's still not carrying through with operations."

"Finds him too amusing?"

"Hell yeah. It's not every day you come across a person like dear li'l Quatre, you know."

"Meaning?"

James huffed, his eyes rolling. "Don't you know why Quatre targets the people he does?"

"Their connections."

"If that were it, then he would have never tried for Browens."

Trowa blinked.

Continuing, James grinned, his smile vicious. "Because they've got certain preferences. Young and male."

'Quatre…'

"Easily manipulated…"

'Quatre wouldn't…'

"With high up connections."

'Who're you kidding, Trowa? Of course he would.'

"So he's quite safe, as long as he keeps performing to Channok's expectations."

"So how do we get him out?"

James laughed into his glass. "We DON'T, Barton. We just don't. Attempting to break him outta there'll do nothing more than completely fuck up EVERYTHING we've been working towards. And if we do that now, it won't just cost us the mission. It'll cost us our lives."

19:41 Hours --

Trowa leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes to block out the glaring light that flowed from the monitors.

James had done nothing more than put the remains of his sandwich into the fridge and return to his bedroom.

'At least now I know what's going on here,' Trowa thought as he rose from his seat and exited the room. Turning and locking the door, he selected a direction and shuffled quietly down the hallway.

'None of those men are trustworthy. As far as I can tell, they're each after their own objectives, all which probably involve our deaths.'

'Leaving them alive for now is the best option. I don't know what kind of contacts they have, or what they're planning.'

'Though with the amount of knowledge that they have about us, it'd probably be best to just kill them.'

Rubbing his forehead, Trowa lightly tapped the keypad outside of the chess room and stepped inside as he heard the whirring and clicking of gears within. 'Good thing I set up a password. It'd be a pain in the ass to disable that box every time I needed this.'

Sitting down at the suspended desk that supported the chandelier, Trowa cracked his knuckles and booted up the computer.

Quickly flicking through the login sequence, he flipped to the word document that carried his instructions. It had carried the message last time he'd booted it that told him that it would be updated periodically from remote access terminals. Meaning of course that Quatre would be hacking into his own system to feed him information. Scanning the file, he reached the newest update at the end, and quickly began to read the wane lines.

"Leave me here. Coming now will not only endanger your lives, but also end mine. I will send a message when the time is right for an escape attempt."

Trowa narrowed his eyes.

"Watch yourself, and watch out for Duo. You have a traitor in your midst."

'I know that. Just which one of those men is the question.'

"Maybe letting Duo in on what you know will enhance your chances of weathering this."

'Not a bad idea.'

"Please be careful."

'I always am.'

"I love you."

Trowa felt his eyes widen as he stared at the screen. Glancing back over it, he rubbed his eyes, making certain he wasn't seeing things.

The message on the screen didn't change.

"I love you."

tbc...