Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Seed Destiny or any of its characters.

A Spy to the Gods

Section Four

What a way end up. But I guess about fourteen shots of Jack Daniels will do that to anybody. I was lying on the torn sheets of my bed, stained with vomit, blood, and the stink of my un-showered body. My guts are probably liquid now. I feel like dispensing them on the floor.

'Wake up Jackie!' Someone shouts, shaking me violently then pushing me over onto my back. I try to will my body to fight back against the intruder, but I fail. With blurred vision, I see the silhouette of a large man standing over me. My senses come back to me as I awaken from my daze. A blistering headache and taste of vomit reminds me of the harsh realities of alcohol.

'Leave me alone you bastard…' My voice is slurred as I tell the intruder the first thing that comes to my mind.

'Christ! What have you done to yourself this time son?' the intruder asks. Who is this person? The voice sound very familiar, over-confident and belligerent. I can't quite make out his face in the darkness. A bright light appears in the room, blinding me. I shield my eyes with my forearm. The effect reminds me of the flash-bangs we used in Special Forces for close quarter combat.

'Turn the bloody light off you bastard!' I shout to the intruder.

'Sorry… but I think it might help you recognise me.'

I withdraw my arm from its position, shading over my eyes. I squint as my eyes get used to the light. I look at the face of the intruder. He's a tall, muscular looking man. He has short dark hair, short enough that it doesn't need combing, as well as a groomed beard that covered his lower face from the side burns to under the chin. 'Shit! Don't tell me that all that alcohol has killed off your memory as well?' He laughs. I don't get his joke. I sit up leaning my back and head against the wall.

'Who are you?' I shout. 'What are you doing here?'

'That no way to speak to your commanding officer!' He snaps playfully in a fraud military manner.

'What? I have no commanding officer anymore.' I'm getting aggravated. Just who the hell is this person? Why won't he answer my questions?

'Africa, Kaohsiung, Kashmir, Siberia… ring any bells?' I take a moment to digest the information thrown at me. Maybe it can jump start my memory.

'Special Forces…' I mumble as the memories of the previous war come flooding back.

'You're getting warmer, not bad for someone as pissed as yourself.' Again he laughs to himself. A name crops up in my memories of ZAFT's Special Forces Operational Detachment Fifth-teen

'Neil… Dahm?'

'Bingo!" He clicks his fingers. 'About fucking time you figured it out son!' So that's who it is. Neil Dahm, commander of the Special Forces Operational Detachment Fifth-teen, my old unit during the war. He was your typical run of the mill dashing young officer with everything going for him. At least that's what the higher ups in Special Forces Command thought. He was a right mad bastard at times, most of the time when off duty anyway, but during operations, he was serious minded. He was one of us, one of the boys. He had this special talent where he could turn on a believable gentlemen's charm at the click of his fingers. One moment he could be picking fights in a bar with the locals, arguing over who owns what women, and the next he could be dressed in a tuxedo, knocking back vodka martini after vodka martini whilst flirting with a drop dead gorgeous blonde. I swear he must have been a con artist or a high-class thief before he enlisted in ZAFT. A criminal of some sort, I'm sure of. A number of questions are eating me away about the how, what and why of his presence in my apartment… at least I think this is my apartment.

'Yeah… what are you doing here anyway?' I ask, moving along from his name to his purpose for being here.

'That was some fight you got into yesterday.' He smirks.

'Yeah, I remember…' I inform him '… sort of.' I mumble to myself, as I could only recall bits and pieces of my scuffle in the bar I drowned myself in. He holds his hand out in front of me. I take up his offer as I grasp his hand; he then helps pull me up off the bed. I wobble slightly as the feeling of being able to stand returns. I push my hand through my hair. I look towards the window, shielded by the blinds. I walk up to it and use my fingers to separate two of the slats to look outside. Apart from the street light illuminations, it's dark out. Wondering what the time was I look at my watch, only to find it smashed, with no numbers on the display.

'What time is it?' I coughed out. He looks at his watch.

'About three thirty in the morning.' He tells me. I just nod. I look down to my clothes; I was still wearing my suit I had bought two days ago. The jacket was missing, and the shirt was torn in places. It was stained in blood and vomit. The vomit I was pretty sure was mine. I hadn't a clue about the blood. I feel my fore head as a jackhammer pounds away at my skull. It feels damp and sticky. A sharp sting strikes a nerve as I touch what must be a cut just below my hairline.

'Ah! Shit!' I curse. I might as well play the good host to him. 'You want a drink of coffee or something?'

'No, I'm fine. But you could use one.' He insists.

'I think your right.' I agree as I walk over to the kitchen unit and sit down on one the stools.

'I'll make it for you son.' He follows me to the kitchen unit. He stills has his habit of calling everyone younger then him 'son', 'lad' or 'Junior'. Even if they were old then him, if they were lower in rank he'd call them son still, but that's only if he had little or not respect for them.

'Coffee granules are in the top cupboard to your left.'

'Gotcha.' He opens the cupboard taking out the near empty coffee jar out. I watch him as he prepares the coffee. 'How's the coffee at Centre?' he asks. I stop my usual thoughts. He just carries on making the coffee, his back turned to me. He's got to still be with ZAFT to have known that. I would've known if he was in Centre.

'Are you still with ZAFT?' I hope he's not trying to recruit me back into Special Forces.

'Not exactly,' he answers. I want answers from him now.

'Look! As lovely as it is seeing you again, why are you here? And further more, why do you think it was necessary that you break into my apartment?' I inquire. 'Why didn't you just knock or ring the door bell like normal people?'

'I did, you never answered.' He reasoned. He turns around to face me again.

'It's three in the morning, people don't usually answer the door at that time.'

'They do eventually.'

'So you broke in? You hacked the lock and broke into my apartment and wake me up by shaking me violently?'

'Sure… I tried shouting down your ear 'ole but I still wasn't get any response from you.' He answers as if it was no big deal. Neil Dahm; master criminal, near enough a real life 'Phantom'.

'You know if I had a gun with me I would've shot you?'

'But you didn't. And even if you did, you wouldn't had hit shit.'

'If I was sober I wouldn't have needed a gun.' I counter.

'In your dreams, son.' A beep indicates the kettle has finished boiling the water. 'You still take it black, two sugars right?'

'Yeah.' I nod dumbly. 'Just why are you here at half three in the morning?' I frustratingly ask.

'There's a man who wants to talk to you.' He displays a cup of coffee in front of me. 'My boss as a matter of fact.'

I hold the cup by the handle and take a small sip of the hot liquid. It burns the tip of my lips and tongue for a moment, before the pain settles.

'You can tell him he can shove up his arse!' I tell him bluntly. I was now standing up to his level. I notice he's still a little taller then me, maybe by an inch or two. This guy could've been poster boy for ZAFT if it had come to that, he had the dashing good looks and charm reminiscent of the EAF's Mwu La Fraga, they only reason they didn't pluck him for the part was because they could have a picture of a covert ops soldier on the front page of magazines, besides he was of more use to ZAFT slitting throats of EAF soldiers.

'Relax son. I don't work for ZAFT anymore.'

'Then who?' I ask. He takes in a breath and blows it out of his nose while he thinks of an answer, or some euphemism for it.

'I work for the boys at Thursgood.' He says, going with the euphemism. That single word, 'Thursgood', makes my mind click. He's working for them now. 'I was ordered to come here and escort you to the House.'

'Is this a recruitment?' My mind and body had sobered up a little. I sit back down on the stool and tend to the coffee.

'In a word; yes.' He states, a stern look on his face. 'I can't go into the details now, all I need is a yes or no?' I just stare at him dumbfounded. A party erupted in my head, a job. However, should I take it or not? Would I be signing my life away again? Like they did in Spectre, abandon me a leave me to die in some Amazon swamp or Afghan cave. I knew that ZAFT were 'supposed' to be a little more caring of their operatives, although even our own spies were betrayed by the end of the war. Their officers were stranded on that miserable planet along with myself when the Council decided to fire the GENESIS; if it wasn't for the intervention of the insurrectionists I would've been dead, along with the entire population of Earth. 'Well?' Dahm takes me away from my memories.

'I don't know.' I sigh. 'Is there a time limit to my decision?'

'I'm taking the twenty past six flight out of here. So that gives you…' He looks at his watch '… about just under two hours till I've got to leave for the spaceport. In the mean time, have yourself a shower, shave, and get some clean cloths on. You smell like you've spent a life's sentence in a cows stomach and you've just been released through its arse.' He was in a more joking mood again.

'Alright.' I sigh. I leave him and the coffee waiting in the kitchen while I head to the bathroom, to cleanse body once more. I enter into the bathroom locking the door behind. I removed my clothes and tossed them into a corner and stepped into the shower. I still feel sick from the alcohol, dizzy too. The headache is still there as well. I haven't looked at my face yet. I wonder what happened? I turn the shower on; cold water hits my body first causing me to shiver, the water gradually turns warmer and more comfortable.

Whilst having this shower I think back to what must had happened after the flight. It was uncomfortable. I was stuck in economy class, bad. Worse, next to some overweight cretin that couldn't even let me sleep as he kept bothering me with his opinions life, death, and the universe. He revealed himself to be a nationalist. 'I dun care what people say, those ruddy naturals always cause us trouble, and I say we ruddy well exterminate them.' That kicked it off. Once the women sitting next to me heard this she couldn't help but get into a debate. I was stuck in the middle of it all, taking in all the missed rounds they fired off at each other.

If I had had a job, I would've been screaming and dancing for joy once I got off the shuttle and away from fatso. But not before he wanted to know if I wanted to meet up with him later on. I gave him the slip when he was busy getting his luggage. All I had was on my back. The security at the spaceport was tight, much like that at Centre, but even ZAFT were standing in as well as the local police this time. The lack of information was killing was tearing me apart. If I were still in Centre, there'd be more then enough intelligence on my desk for me to handle, especially now that there's a war on. I couldn't quite figure out why Sieren had sacked me at the most desperate times. All the departments would've had to be expanded to counter intelligence agents of the Earth Alliance and terrorists of the Blue Cosmos, probably funded by the Earth Alliance, as well as the odd one of two of the nationalist terror cells.

I went to the Section immediately after leaving the spaceport. There, the security guard escorted me to the new Director of Section, a very military mannered chap, and a typical stooge of Sieren's. I don't recall his name, I couldn't care less though. He made me stand to attention and call him 'sir' whilst he put me through the humiliating decommissioning process. I then emptied out my desk and draws under the watchful eye of the only uniform in the room. Anything 'sensitive' was quickly pulled out of my hands. I walked out of Section for the final time, carrying a box of my belongings. I never saw Liz; I didn't want to ask if she was in, they wouldn't tell me. I would've at least like to have said 'goodbye', I could go around to her home and see her, but all she'd do is lead me into her bed. Not that I don't find her attractive, but I couldn't bear to be with her after what she witnessed. Her knowing of what I was capable of. She did offer for me to talk about it to her. I pushed her away.

I dropped the box off in a river somewhere. Its contents contained nothing of any importance or use. Much like the usual crap an overpaid civil servant would have on their desk. I went to a bar somewhere, hadn't a clue which one, some place that was set up like an Ikea catalogue page, playing the pretentious modern 'pop' shit that lethargic teenagers listen to. Though it wasn't my sort of place, anything but my local will do, I knew that some officers from Section went to my usual, not that it should bother me but I just didn't want to run into anyone from there. This is where my memory starts to get hazy. Bartender laid double after double of Jack Daniel upon me. I just sat on a stool, thinking about the past, present, and future. The bartender, Jeff I think his name was, tried to start up various conversations about anything; sports, current affairs, relationships, jobs. I didn't let it go anywhere though. I haven't a clue when the fight started, who started it, or whom it was I fought with. The next thing I know, I'm woken by Peter bloody Perfect, at least that's what he thinks. He must had been watching and following me since I left Section. I wonder if he had helped out in the fight or just watched and laughed like a tourist at a zoo.

I finish having the shower. I wipe the condensation off the mirror with my palm; I notice a bruise on the back of my hand. I look into the mirror. I look like shit. My face has a small cut just below my hairline, the bleeding had mostly stopped and a scab was starting to form. There's also a yellowish bruise starting its performance on my right cheek. I stick out my tongue. It's coated in yellow. That colour seems to have taken a liking to me this morning. I hate yellow. I grab the towel and dry my hair with it in rapid motion. I put a dressing gown around me and I exit the bathroom. Neil is still in my kitchen, he was pretending to be busy by downing some of my coffee.

'Feel better?' He asks.

'A little.' I say quickly.

'So… thought anymore about my offer?' He takes a sip of the coffee. I hadn't really; too busy sorting the filing cabinet labelled 'memory'.

'I'm still thinking about it.' I lied. I've only just started thinking about it. I look back to the slowly cooling half empty cup of coffee sitting on the kitchen counter. My stomach screams 'No!' I pour it down the sink.

'Come on! It wasn't that bad!' He boasts. It really wasn't that bad, but my stomach couldn't handle it at the moment. 'You didn't complain about it back in the good ol' days!' He continues his gripe. His voice had become that of a whinging teenager.

'You were my commanding officer back then. If I didn't agree I'd most likely end up digging cess pits in the name of the war effort.' I counter. 'Besides, this isn't half bad, probably because you didn't use your "special recipe".'

'Geez, and I thought you were my friend…' He shakes his head in disgust and goes back to his own coffee. I think back to how seriously he took the 'art' of brewing a coffee. I honestly couldn't tell the difference; just nod and smile to at least pretend you have a clue what he's on about.

'I'm going to get changed.' I inform him.

'Clock's ticking.' He reminds me, tapping his watch.

'Yes!' I hissed at him. I walk back into my bedroom and raid the wardrobe. I still felt a little groggy, but it wasn't as bad as before. I think I'll wear something similar to what Neil had, casual. My standard jeans, dark t-shirt and dark jumper, should do.

What would this job specifically involve? Working behind a desk? No chance. Ex-Special Forces and ex-DISC Field Officer do not become paperclip pushers, especially when they're head hunted at three in the morning. It'll most likely be working on Earth, perhaps in one of their stations, or in the dreaded clandestine operations. Job opportunities like this rarely occur within ones life time, should I seize this one?

I finish dressing myself. I reach into one of the draws by the side of my bed, and I take out a spare watch. Nothing fancy, just a cheap digital watch. I put it on my right wrist with the display facing the same way as my palm. The digital display shows that it's now twelve minutes past four. I step out of the room and back into the kitchen. Neil is still there, but he's finished his coffee and was now leaning on the counter, arms folded.

'So… have you decided yet?'

'Bloody hell! Take a breath before you ask the question. I've got some time yet.'

'But not long, son.' He reminds me. I sit on the stool and lean my head on my fist. We sit there in silence for a few moments while I contemplate my decision. After a few moments, Neil breaks the silence. 'It's not like you've got anything else going for yourself. You could get a "normal" job like a… librarian or a… book collector. You could even work for Martius Arsenals or Maius Military Industries as a security advisor?'

'No thanks, that's one of the last things I'd like to be doing.'

'How about a Civil Servant job? You'd get more pay then you did in Centre.'

'Tell a lie, that is the last thing I'd want to be doing. Before I make my decision your going to have to throw some information my way. What would this "job" be exactly?' I think my decision is already made up, but it's always worth it to make sure.

'Like I said; I can't go into the details, but my boss can. And to meet my boss you'd have to take the flight out with me. This job however, goes pretty deep. If you accept to go on the flight you can still refuse the offer, though my superiors will be most pissed off. Once you meet my boss however you are going to have to accept the job, there's no going back once in Thursgood House.'

'You are trying to convince me to take the job right?'

'As for the job itself…" He continues, ignoring my question "…Well it'll be the same work I do for Thursgood. So it can't be that bad.' He reasons. I sit and think for a few moments, contemplating my final decision. He's a got a good point though. There isn't anything else for me here. Centre threw me out of the window because of some vendetta of mine. I wonder that if I'd get lifted and turned by the Alliance's DCI, I've got some valuable intel about the DISC and it's procedures in my head. Not that I'd be doing myself any favours if I did, they'd only have some Blue Cosmos terrorist murder me once I was of no use. I still want to get some payback on those bastards, and I can't do that in Centre or ZAFT, they both have too many rules and regulations. Blue Cosmos don't play by rules and regulations; 'the cleansing of Coordinators for the preservation of a blue and pure world.' That's all they live and die by, death of all Coordinators, myself included. I'll need the freedom that they have to get back at Blue Cosmos and their supporters.

'Alright…Let's go.'

Endnote: Section Four completed. Sorry for the short chapter (well… shorter then the last one). Section Five should be out within a month or so. Thanks to those that a read and reviewed so far. They motivate me to keep on writing this.

But for the love of whoever-it-is-you-pray-to please please please review! It's very disconcerting at how a fic with 600 words get about 30 or so reviews, although some are not always positive, at least they are getting read, reviewed and told at how they can improve it. I usually find these fics to be romance. Well… if it'll make some of you lot bloody happy I'll have a bloody romance in it. Joking, but I did plan a small bit of romance from the start, though anything won't happy for quite a few chapters yet.