Title: Never Turn Your Back on the Sea (6?)
Section Title: Cooperation
Author: Alleyprowler
Pairings: 3x4, 2xH and 1xR
Ratings/Warnings: M for language, references to violence
Colony L2-2XH06N was a dump, and not just because it contained the largest reclaim and recycling business in space. No, the entire Colony was dirty and grim, and due to that fact, was populated much less than the cap. There were no parks, as far as Wufei could tell, no greenspaces, no ponds, no recreational areas at all, just one dull grey building after another. Even the air seemed grey; it had the stale, greasy odor of an atmosphere that was maintained exclusively by industrial recycling.
If he hadn't had explicit directions and a map from the vehicle rental center, Wufei doubted he would have been able to identify a salvage yard in this dirty grey landscape. He found it anyway. It was just as depressing as the rest of the Colony.
A tall, razor-wire topped chain link fence separated the inner workings of Green Earth Reclaim from the street. Leaving the two freshly deputized Preventers and their charge in the back of the rented van, Wufei entered the gate and paused inside to get his bearings. Unlike Duo and Hilde, who preferred to keep their payload out of sight in various storage buildings, Green Earth Reclaim had their scrap out in the open, arranged in heaps and rows sorted by type and cut through with claustrophobia-inducing alleyways.
Wufei could see the edge of a large aluminum Quonset hut near the center of it all that probably served as a storage area, or possibly a repair shop. It had a scrubber unit built into one end, but from what Wufei could tell, it was old and poorly maintained. A pair of forklifts and a halftrack dozer squatted abandoned near the front of the yard, looking like huge, dirty, yellow insects at rest. The ground was bare earth packed hard and turned black by years of oil drippings. There were a few puddles of indeterminate depth on the ground, full of black water and coated with a sheen of something that turned the surface into dark rainbows. Wufei made a soft sound of disgust. He really didn't know what that stuff was, but he had a feeling that he'd better avoid touching it if he ever planned on fathering children one day.
He tugged the hem of his short jacket down around his hips, adjusted his tie, and strode toward the Quonset hut in a businesslike fashion, mindful that there might be people watching him approach even during the lunch hour lull. He had discovered long ago that in situations where his age and authority might come into question, attitude was everything. A professional attitude usually got him the respect he deserved, and if that failed, there was always the trained killer attitude to fall back on. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.
The doors of the Quonset hut were wide open, presumably to let some cool air into the vast, dim space, so Wufei let himself in and approached the first person he saw. The man's back was to him, shapeless and ageless in baggy green coveralls. Wufei made his step a little heavier to avoid startling him.
"Excuse me," he said with as much cool politeness as he could muster, "could you tell me if a Mr. Yates is in today?"
The man turned around slowly. His greasy black hair was slicked back from a sharp widow's peak and his sallow skin gleamed with either oil, sweat, or both. "You want to see Mr. Yates?" he asked, putting an insulting emphasis on the pronoun.
"Yes, if he's in." Wufei kept his tone even.
The man looked him up and down as if he was a side of beef that might or might not have gone bad. "What for?" he asked at last.
"That's between Mr. Yates and me."
The man finally noticed the insignia on the shoulder of Wufei's jacket. "You're a cop?" he asked incredulously.
Realizing he should have done so in the first place, Wufei reached into his inner pocket and pulled out his ID card. "Preventer Agent Chang Wufei. If you could kindly direct me to Mr. Yates..."
"What'd he do?"
Wufei's hands snapped into fists at his sides. He half-closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath through his nose, willing himself not to give in to his rising temper. When he opened them again, the man was looking at him with either fear or respect--Wufei didn't much care which one, but it was an improvement.
"Come with me, sir."
Back in the van, Duo sat across from Quatre in the middle row of seats, listening intently to the transmission from the open transmitter-receiver Wufei carried in his pocket. So far, so good, he thought. He spared a glance at Blue, who was curled up in a malodorous heap on the bench seat in the very back. Emotionally exhausted, the kid had dropped off into a deep sleep almost as soon as Wufei had parked the van, which was just fine with Duo. He'd had enough of the guy's blubbing to last the rest of his life.
He looked at Quatre and gave him a thumbs-up, and Quatre smiled in return. It was a weak smile, but a genuine one. Duo was worried about him; he was obviously sick, but he would never admit the fact while there was a job to do. Duo didn't like it, but he knew that Quatre would not take kindly to a suggestion to stay behind and rest. The best thing was to focus on his job and hope that it would be resolved soon. There would be plenty of time to scold Quatre later.
"Is he in yet?" Quatre asked, still fiddling with the little black box in his hands.
Duo slid the headphone off one ear. "No, he found someone who'll take him to Yates, but they're taking their sweet time about it. How's the army coming along?"
The voice distortion unit had been more than a source of entertainment on the shuttle flight to L2-2XH06N, it had been the inspiration for a devious bit of trickery. Duo was still mentally giggling over it.
Quatre's brow creased. "Not good. The low battery indicator just came on."
Duo grinned. "No problem," he said. "What class does it take? XB? XC?" He began to rummage around in his pockets, glad that he always carried around several fully-charged batteries of various classes and sizes around.
Quatre flipped the black box over and slid open the battery compartment. He drew his sleeve over his brow to wipe away a film of sweat. "XC class, size two. It takes four."
Duo held out four of the appropriate batteries and was rewarded with an absolutely thunderstruck look from the blond. He tried to look modest. "Hey, I work with lots of gadgets far away from the colony's power mains. It never hurts to be prepared."
Quatre gave him his 'Duo-you're-the-best' smile, the one that made Duo feel warm all the way to his toes. "Thanks, this'll be...well!"
"Well what?"
Quatre passed him the plastic cover that went over the voice distorter's battery compartment. Duo turned it over in his hands a few times before he found what he was looking for. The words were etched into the plastic, but so filled with grime and obscured by scratches that they were difficult to read. "Property of GER, and a phone number," Duo smirked. "Man, this guy just loves to step on his own dick."
"Nice metaphor," Quatre said, wrinkling his nose. He put the coin-shaped batteries into their proper slots and replaced the battery cover. "There. I've put in twenty-four voices--"
"Overkill!"
"Maybe, but you never know with Wufei. He's very thorough."
"Is that your polite way of saying anal-retentive?"
"That's my way of saying he's very thorough," Quatre said, giving him a level look. Duo got the message and made a show of zipping his lips shut, even if he did privately think he was right. He loved Wufei like a brother, but that didn't mean that some aspects of his personality weren't annoying.
Quatre continued, "The presets are simply numbered from one to twenty-four, and I've programmed in female as well as male voices, so don't be surprised if you come out sounding like the Channel Four weathergirl. Try to keep track of which voice goes with which name. The only thing this can't do to your voice is change your accent--you'll have to do that yourself."
"No worries, mate," Duo said in a manufactured Australian accent. He thought it was pretty good himself, but Quatre was giving him that look again. "What?"
"Could you at least pretend to be taking this seriously?" Quatre snapped.
True irritation was something Duo had seen so seldom from Quatre that he was too shocked to answer. But he didn't need to; Quatre passed a hand over his face and took a breath.
"I'm sorry, Duo. I shouldn't have said that. I know that's just your way of coping with things, and--"
Duo suddenly heard a new voice over the headphone that was still over his left ear and cut Quatre off with a sharp gesture. "You can grovel later, Quat. Things are getting interesting."
The man was stalling. Wufei didn't know what purpose it served, but the man who led him to Yates was purposefully dragging his feet and making a point to stop and converse with every other person they came across, and they seemed to be taking a rather circuitous route through the scrapyard.
If the man was trying to get him lost, though, he was in for a disappointment. Wufei had a mental compass that had never failed him, and besides, Duo and Quatre were monitoring him from the van. If something happened to him between these towering heaps of metal, they would come charging directly to him, maze or no.
It was good to have dangerous friends.
The building they finally arrived at was in the center of the yard, in view of the front gate. Wufei fumed. The man in the greasy coveralls really had taken a roundabout way to get here, and he did not appreciate having his time wasted. Wufei sincerely hoped that he would be able to arrest the guy, on any charge. He didn't even have to be in on the attack on Quatre; Wufei would be just as happy to arrest him for spitting on the sidewalk as attempted murder.
"You wait right here, kid, I'll get the boss for you," the man said, pushing the door open.
Wufei casually pushed his open jacket to one side, revealing his sidearm. "I will wait inside, and I will not wait long. And you will address me as Agent Chang, not 'kid'."
The man's florid face suddenly drained of color. "Right."
Wufei followed him into an air-conditioned room with filthy blue carpeting on the floor, molded-plastic chairs and wire-frame magazine racks on one side, a wooden door with a pebbled-glass window on the other side, and an antique cherrywood desk against the far wall. The desk was presently unoccupied.
The man in the coveralls knocked on the door. "Boss? Someone's here to see you."
"What the hell, Morley, it's lunchtime! I'm eating!" The voice from behind the door was thick, but loud.
"Boss, it's a Preventer agent."
There was a silence, followed by the sound of paper crumpling. "Send him in, and then go to lunch."
Morley's brow crinkled. "But I've already gone to lunch, Boss."
"Go again, and take Albey and Duke and whoever is still working with you."
Wufei looked up at the confused man. "I'd do as your supervisor tells you. It shouldn't take more than an hour. Enjoy your meal." He gave Morley a hard look, then pulled the door open and stepped into the office.
Yates had obviously tried to impart a bit of style into his office, but had failed miserably. The oak desk was too wide and gaudily-carved to be tasteful, the silk plants were in need of a good scrubbing, and the art on the walls was...Wufei blinked at one particular oil painting and quickly looked away. The art on the walls was borderline pornographic. Wufei supposed it might have been classified as 'conceptual' or 'avant-garde' under the current pornography laws, but still, seeing a naked woman down on all fours while three men sat around her in club chairs playing poker on her back made his guts twist with revulsion.
Wufei turned away from the print and looked at Yates, who was wrapping the remains of a sandwich in a grease-spotted paper bag. The man was in his mid-fifties, Wufei judged, and bore the well-rounded physique of a man who liked to dine often and heartily, and yet there was the shadow of muscular strength in his frame. His complexion was the fake bronze borne of expensive natural sun tanning, and his white hair and mustache were trimmed within millimeters of perfection. Yates's hands were soft and meticulously clean, the nails clipped and buffed to a hard shine. Wufei could almost see his own reflection in them. The man obviously had the means to take care of himself.
Why, then, Wufei asked himself, is he dressed like that
Yates was dressed--no, costumed--to look like a ranch owner in an old Earth film about the American frontier. He wore a long sleeved cotton shirt with leather fringe sewn across the chest and elaborately-embroidered pockets. The shirt had cufflinks that were made of silver and turquoise, and must have weighed a kilo each. Around his neck, Yates wore a string tie with a clasp made of fake petrified wood worked with a silver cattle brand. Most ridiculous of all, he had a white ten-gallon hat with a snakeskin band perched on his well-groomed head. Wufei guessed that the man wore Earth-imported bluejeans and hand-tooled boots, but since he didn't seem inclined to stand up and shake hands, the guess remained a guess.
"Good afternoon," he stated formally. "I am Agent Chang Wufei of the Preventers. Am I correct on assuming that you are Raleigh Peter Yates?"
The fat man leaned back in his chair, and folded his hands across his belly. "I'm Raleigh Yates," he said in a pleasant voice, then he burped, stifling the noise against his fist. "'Scuse me, you caught me in the middle of my lunch. What can I do for you, Agent?"
Confess, you fat shit, so I can go home, Wufei thought. Out loud, he said, "I'm investigating an attempted murder on Earth, and I thought perhaps your expertise in certain matters might assist me."
Yates's demeanor changed. He leaned forward and laced his hands together on his desk blotter and regarded Wufei with a concerned crease across his forehead. "Of course, I'd be glad to aid the Preventers in any way I can, Agent. I really respect the work you guys do," he said with unctuous sincerity. "Please, have a seat."
Wufei gave in to the urge to sneer as he turned to find a seat. He selected one that was plastic painted to look like oak and settled it in front of the desk. "Thank you. I'd like to begin by asking you about the accepted procedure for the reclaim and resale of neo-titanium. It's a restricted substance, if I understand correctly."
Yates's lips were pursed thoughtfully. "It's restricted, yes, which is why I don't deal with the stuff myself. I leave that to the Sweepers III outfit over on '00G. Seems the young man who runs the outfit has a few...connections, shall we say." The insinuating tone made Wufei glad he had decided to skip lunch.
"I've spoken to the Maxwells. They were most helpful," he said shortly. "All right, next question. You use explosives in your work, do you not?"
The man seemed confused by the question. "Sure we do. Everyone does in this line of work. We use C4 cutting tape with PETN boosters or M112 demolition block, usually. Sometimes that's the only way to cut through big hunks of metal."
Bullshit, though Wufei. That might be the only way to cut through Gundanium or some of the tougher heat-resistant ceramics, but ordinary metals were usually cut to size with heat welders. It was far safer that way. "I see. And do you keep large quantities of these substances on the premises?"
"It depends on what you mean by 'large'," said Yates smoothly. "I keep a few coils of cutting tape and a couple of kilos of demo block in the hazard shed if you'd like a look."
Yes, I'm very curious about where you, a civilian, store your military-use plastic explosives, Wufei said with an internal smirk. Very curious indeed. "I believe I would like a look, Mr. Yates, but if you'll excuse me, I need to inform my perimeter patrol that I am changing locations before we make that visit."
For once, Yates showed a genuine emotion. His jaw dropped slightly and his blue eyes shifted out of focus in an expression of bafflement that made him appear mentally deficient. "What perimeter patrol?" he asked.
Wufei took his communicator out of his pocket. "Standard procedure," he said blandly. "It's often necessary to post a guard around the site of an investigation--helps keep the riff-raff away."
"I...uh..."
"Phipps, report," Wufei barked into the unit, not giving the man a chance to protest.
"Guarding the spinn'ard port corner, sir," said a light, crisp female voice.
"Delacroix, report."
"Guarding the spinn'ard center, sir," said a basso profundo voice as rich and complicated as port wine.
"Benguela, report."
"Guarding the spinn'ard starboard, sir," said a drawling young male voice in a bored tone.
"Benguela, move to starboard center anti-spin and relieve Bernádez."
"Will do, sir," said the drawling voice, and Wufei smiled a little. He recognized Duo's accent even behind the disguised voice, so subtly but noticeably different than Quatre's faster, more clipped manner of speaking.
"Where do you want me, sir?" asked a smoky, sultry female voice, and Wufei's smile faded. Oh no, those two monkeys wouldn't have kept that voice, could they?
Apparently Yates recognized it too. "Say, is that...?"
"Agent Bernádez, move to the front entrance," Wufei snapped, making a mental note to dig his thumbscrews out of storage. "Lynch, guard the port side, McKinney, take starboard."
"Yes, sir," chorused two male voices.
"Oh, and I'm changing position myself. We'll be going to the hazardous materials shed."
"Are you crazy? Sir?" 'Lynch' blurted out.
That was it; Duo was first in line for the thumbscrews. He said smoothly, "Thank you for your concern for my mental well-being, Agent, but although my sanity has been called into question several times, the Preventer psychiatrists have consistently given me a clean bill of health. Chang out."
Yates was regarding him with something close to respect. "That's some team you have there, Agent Chang."
"They are young and spirited," Wufei said, "but perhaps not as disciplined as I would like." He stowed the communicator back in his pocket and grasped the handle of his laptop's carrying case. "Show me the way to the explosives shed."
"Do you think Wufei's going to kill us?" Quatre asked thoughtfully.
"Nah, he'll probably just torture us a little."
Quatre shuddered. "I think I'd rather be killed by Wufei than tortured by him. He can be very...creative."
Duo patted him briskly on the knee. "I'll be suffering right alongside you, buddy."
"That's very comforting."
Duo stared at the readout on his GPS screen. "Wufei's stopped. It looks like the creep's explosives shed in by the port wall, about fifty meters inward."
"Should we get closer to the entrance? Wufei might want to call in his witness," Quatre asked, looking over the back row of seats at Blue, who was twitching uneasily in his sleep. If you think you are having nightmares now, my friend, just wait and see what comes next.
Duo was engrossed in the tracking display and was pressing the left headphone to his ear. "Take us as close as you can; Wufei's starting to ask some heavily loaded questions." He blew his shaggy bangs out of his face and frowned at Quatre. "Goddammit, Quat, why'd you take the magazine out of your pistol? Yates gives me the creeps. I mean, he was pretty creepy before all this happened, but now he's like extra super creepy with a side of fries."
Quatre squeezed himself in between the two front seats and eased down into the driver's seat. He found the key still in the ignition, and he pressed it. The electric engine started up silently; the only indication that it was engaged and idling was a yellow light on the dashboard. His chest felt tight and his breath came short, and he wasn't sure if it was from his illness or from the surge of strong emotion he felt when he heard Duo's veiled accusation. "I don't like guns."
"Neither do I, but Jesus! That fucker almost killed you!"
"We don't know that, Duo," Quatre said. He was going to say more, but taking a breath, he heard a faint whistle in his chest and his throat felt tight. He coughed hard, trying to clear his voice, and was momentarily panicked when he couldn't stop. He hacked until he was certain he was either going to pass out or throw up. Black spots swarmed across his vision. His hands and feet went numb. His chest muscles surely could not take the strain any longer...but then the fit subsided. Quatre raised his sweaty head from its resting place on the steering wheel and blinked away a lens of tears. He felt a warm hand rubbing his spine. "I'm okay," he said hoarsely in answer to the unasked question.
Duo patted him gently between the shoulderblades. "You just keep believing that, buddy. Meanwhile, you let me do all the heavy lifting and you just stand back looking all serious and dangerous-like. I'm trusting you to cover my ass."
Quatre dropped the transmission lever into Drive. "That I can do."
Wufei hefted the cellophane-wrapped block of plastic explosive in his hand, noting that it was exactly as Quatre had described the contents of the packing case he had opened at Bell Point. "This M112 seems to be military surplus," he said.
"Yeah, I think so."
Wufei gazed at the man disdainfully; Yates's mind seemed to be elsewhere. "You think so? You have several dozen kilograms of high explosive and you think it's military surplus?"
"Didn't ask," Yates said with a shrug.
"This could be important, Mr. Yates. You see, our case involved this exact type of explosive, and it's very unusual that a civilian would be able to get his hands on this amount of it. I could check it through the Preventer's tracking system, but I'd rather not go through the trouble. I ask you again: Is this military surplus?"
"I suppose it could be. I'd have to check with my secretary; she's the one who does all the ordering."
"I suggest you do that." Wufei stepped further into the shed and looked into the farthest corners. He pulled a dirty canvas tarpaulin from a pile of something on the floor and drew in a breath of surprise. Underneath was a stack of packing crates, lightweight aluminum things the size of suitcases, reinforced at the edges with steel strips to cut down on wear and tear. Just like Quatre had described. "What do you use these for, Yates?"
"Oh, those!" Yates said, and let out a fake, nervous little laugh: haha. "Damn, I don't know how we got those, but sometimes Meg--she's my secretary--sees a good price and buys stuff that she thinks we might have a use for. Can't resist a bargain, that girl. I've tried breaking her of that habit, but you know how women are with money, my ex-wife, for example, she couldn't seem to pass a shoe shop without buying the whole goddamn inventory, I tell ya--"
"Open one."
"Beg pardon?"
"Open one of those cases."
Yates removed his ridiculous hat and armed a sheen of sweat from his tanned brow. "Any particular reason why I should, Agent?"
Well, it had worked on Blue... Wufei swept aside a corner of his open jacket casually, revealing the butt of his holstered pistol and smiled. "Your cooperation would be greatly appreciated."
A civilian might not have caught the flicker of sheer hatred in Yates's eyes, but Wufei was trained to observe. That cold flash of emotion sealed the man's fate in Wufei's eyes; this case was going to get escalated whether he found any further evidence or not. Une trusted him, and even if he told her he was running on instinct alone, she would back him up.
Yates laboriously lowered himself to one knee and unlatched the clasps holding the packing case closed. He lifted the lid and leaned back. "Huh. I wonder what those are," he said.
Wufei reached into his jacket again and pulled out a penlight. For one surreal moment he thought he saw a few bottles of the ginko biloba supplement that one of his officemates ate like candy, but upon closer examination he saw that it was something far more malignant. The black cylinders with their red caps were chemical detonators, commonly used by demolitions experts, mining engineers, and terrorists to produce a timed blast. A slow smile crept across his face. "Thank you, Mr. Yates," he said, reverting to a polite tone of voice, "you have been most helpful. I really hate to impose, but I was wondering if I could ask you to speak with one of our suspects in the case."
Yates, who had been rising creakily to his feet, suddenly straightened. His snow-white eyebrows seemed to disappear under the brim of his stupid hat, and he grinned his broad I'm-just-an-honest-citizen-helping-the-authorities grin and slapped his knee. "You've got a suspect after only a day? Gee, don't you boys work fast!"
Wufei had a difficult time keeping a straight face. How do you know exactly how long I've been working on this case, you filthy cockroach? "Your confidence is appreciated." He took his communicator out of his pocket and switched it on. "Attention, team. Will Deputy Agents Maxwell and Winner please bring Mr. Ervy to the Quonset hut visible from the front entrance? Quickly, please."
"Yes, sir," came Duo's voice from the tiny but powerful speaker. "Right away, sir," said Quatre's voice.
"Excellent." Wufei snapped the unit off and smiled at Yates. The look on the man's face was worth every pain, ache, humiliation, and mental anguish he'd ever suffered during his training.
It was the look of a man who knew he had not escaped justice after all.
"It's showtime!" Duo announced.
Quatre, who had been dozing behind the steering wheel, jerked awake with a start. "What'd he say?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
"He asked Deputy Agents Maxwell and Winner to bring Mr. Ervy to the Quonset hut. God, Wufei has guts calling us out by name." Duo grinned, feeling elated. He'd been suspicious of Yates for years now, and it looked like Wufei had finally found something hard to nail the guy's balls to.
"He really did?" Quatre asked, sounding more awake.
"Yup."
"If he's feeling that bold, he must have found out something incriminating," Quatre said.
"That's what I was thinking. I'm gonna wake up Stinky here, then we can make our grand entrance." Duo knelt on his seat and looked at the teenager curled up on the bench seat behind him. The wet spot on Blue's crotch had dried to a vague outline that couldn't be seen unless one was looking for it, but the faint odor of ammonia was unmistakable in these close quarters. Duo wrinkled his nose and drew the sleeve of his borrowed jacket over his finger before he poked the boy in the ribs. "Wake up, sunshine," he said.
"Muh," said Blue.
"Now, gorgeous. We're on."
Blue cracked his eyes open and lifted one hand to rub them. He seemed startled when he felt the tug of the handcuffs on his wrists. "What's this? Why am I...? Oh, shit."
"'Oh shit' is right, sugar. C'mon, we have a job to do."
Blue set his jaw stubbornly and peered at Duo from behind his bangs. "What do you want from me?"
"Cooperation, Blue," Quatre said from the front seat.
Duo turned to look at him and gave him a wink. Cooperation was the magic word, wasn't it? "We're going to go see Yates now. You're going to stand up in front of him and tell us exactly what he asked you to do, how much he paid you to do it, and you're going to tell the truth."
The mulish look didn't leave Blue's face. "He's just gonna kill me, you know."
"Don't be stupid, you'll have three Preventer agents guarding you." Quatre's voice was snappish with impatience. "Think of how this might affect your case, Blue."
Duo watched as the boy thought. Blue's features softened and his eyes half-closed for half a minute while he considered his situation, then he looked up at his former employer with a sigh. He gave a small nod. "I'll do whatever you say."
"That's what I like to hear. Now give me your elbow and let's get outta here."
Duo walked on Blue's left side, holding his elbow to steady him and also to feel if the boy was going to try anything monumentally stupid like try to run with his hands cuffed behind his back. He really didn't think it would come to that; for all his sullenness, Duo was fairly sure the kid was broken. Quatre walked on Blue's right. He also had a hand on Blue's arm, but Duo had to wonder who was supporting whom.
As soon as they passed the gates, Duo got his first good look at the scrapyard itself and felt nauseated with sheer disgust. "Holy crap. This guy can't possibly be passing inspection!"
"Environmental inspectors are only human," Quatre said in a weary voice. "They can be persuaded to look the other way."
Duo steered his charge carefully around a puddle of standing black water. "Wanna be careful of that stuff if you don't want to have hairy little kids with two heads, guys. Er, sorry, Quat."
"What is it?" Quatre asked.
Duo, while usually qualified to comment on such matters, didn't feel like hazarding a guess on exactly what it was. "Fuel? Lubricant? Coolant? Who the hell knows? Smells like something a schoolkid would sniff to get high."
As if in affirmation, Quatre began to cough harshly. Duo slowed down, concerned, but then Quatre spat and a moment later, the body between them was jerked viciously to one side.
"Ow!" Blue complained.
"Don't whine," Quatre panted, "or I'll give you something to whine about. Look, there's Wufei."
Duo looked up and saw two figures silhouetted in front of the huge rolling door that led to the interior of the Quonset hut. The slim and sleek one was obviously Wufei, but he didn't recognize the slightly taller one who was built like a fireplug. It had to be Yates, of course, but now that he thought about it, Duo had never even seen a photo of the guy. That was odd. All of the salvage operations in space and most of the ones on Earth were part of a network that shared news and rumors as well as inventory lists with each other; it was good for business. Yet Duo had never even seen a photo of Yates in the trade magazines, at least not a recent one. The guy definitely had something to hide if he didn't want to advertise.
He shook Blue's elbow. "Is that fat guy Yates?"
The boy looked up briefly from the ground and nodded twice, then continued his study of the blackened earth beneath his feet.
Duo dragged him forward. He grinned when he got close enough to make out Wufei's features. "Deputy Agent Maxwell reporting, sir!" he shouted out.
Wufei tried--and failed--to suppress his own smile. "Maxwell and Winner. How very nice of you to come when summoned, but do try to be more timely in the future." Wufei turned toward the larger man, who looked utterly bewildered. "We can talk in here, where it's quiet. The staff have all gone out to lunch, fortunately."
"Oh...yeah," Yates said.
Duo strode toward the hut, dragging Blue and Quatre behind him. It was not one of the larger models, but the entrance was still nearly three times his height and the rolling door was opened to its maximum width of four meters. This was the normal freight door, he reckoned, noting the nicks and scrapes along the edges. There would be a larger door on the opposite side for outsized cargo.
Duo gave Wufei a snappy salute as he approached. "Where do you want the suspect, sir?"
Wufei pointed to a cluttered work table shoved against one curving wall. There was a battered wooden bench beside it. "Have a seat, Mr. Ervy."
Duo and Quatre marched Blue to the bench, sat him down, and took up positions at his sides. Wufei stood in front of the boy, looming over him with his hands behind his back. "Mr. Ervy, can you tell us what happened on the morning of Sunday, the fourth of February?"
Blue nodded. "Yeah. I left my apartment early in the morning, maybe around seven, and I went to Sweepers III. I was supposed to meet someone there." He peeked out shyly from behind his bangs. "I was supposed to meet Mr. Yates."
"Now hold on, boy," Yates began, but stopped when Wufei threw him a look.
"You'll get your turn later, sir."
Yates shut his mouth, but he was obviously unhappy about it; Duo thought he looked like a man who has just swallowed a lemon.
Blue cleared his throat quietly. "I met Yates outside the front entrance and let him in. We were the only ones there so early in the morning and I figured we had an hour or more. We went into one of the worksheds and I put on some of Duo--Mr. Maxwell's work clothes while Mr. Yates transferred some money into my account."
"I'm gonna fuckin' burn that cap," Duo muttered under his breath. He caught the look Wufei was giving him and shook his head in apology. "Sorry."
"Mr. Yates gave me this boxy thing that he said would change my voice, and I spent some time practicing. You know, trying to act like D--Mr. Maxwell. I can imitate people pretty good."
Duo saw Quatre shift uncomfortably. The poor guy was probably feeling guilty about being taken in like that.
"What was Mr. Yates doing while you were practicing?" Wufei asked.
"He had some still images of Mr. Maxwell from before. He said he'd gotten them off the vidphone we were using, and he was gonna use them in the transmission when I wasn't talking. I didn't really understand it, but he seemed to know what he was doing. So anyway, I put that box thing in my shirt pocket and called up Mr. Winner's house, and... well, you recorded it." Blue shrugged.
"Indeed." Wufei took his laptop out of its case and began to set it up on the workbench.
"That's quite a story, young man," said Yates. "Problem is, I've never seen you before in my life."
Blue said nothing. Duo noticed a plummy color rising in Yates's cheeks and sweat rolling down the sides of his face. The man might as well have had a neon sign over his head reading GUILTY.
"Watch, please," Wufei said, and began to play back the recording.
Duo watched, but not the computer. He was more interested in watching Yates. The guy was turning all sorts of colors, which probably wasn't healthy for a man of his age and weight. His pupils were dilated and he was taking very shallow breaths; both were signs of intense interest...or intense fear. He's gonna crack any minute now.
The short recording ended. Yates took a monogrammed handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his face. "Well, I admit I'm not an expert on that kind of thing, but as far as I can tell, that was Duo Maxwell. He doesn't look too much like Blue to me."
Wufei caught Duo's eye and gave him a smug little smirk. At first, Duo didn't know what the hell there was to grin about, but then it hit him: Yates had called the kid Blue. Duo returned the smirk.
"Agent Maxwell, the voice distortion unit is in your pocket, I believe," said Quatre. He, too, was smirking. The expression sat strangely on his pallid and bruised face. He looked almost sinister.
Duo pulled the black box out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Wufei. "Sir, if you'll take the cover off the battery compartment, I think you'll find something interesting."
Wufei looked suspicious, but he slid the piece of plastic off the back and examined it closely in the light of a gooseneck lamp on the workbench. A slow, wolfish smile formed on his face. "Well, this is interesting. 'Property of GER'. I assume that stands for Green Earth Reclaim?"
Yates drew himself up indignantly. Duo thought he looked like a toad. "Now hold on there, young man. Are you accusing me of something?"
Wufei inclined his head toward Blue. "Mr. Ervy has confessed he was an accessory in a very serious crime, and he has named you as the mastermind behind it, shall we say. This crime involved a lot of plastic explosives, probably type M112, which were set off with a chemical detonator much like the ones in your hazardous materials shed. The explosives were packed in steel-edged aluminum packing crates. Now I admit that you owning all of these things might be nothing but a bizarre coincidence, but you've made so many incriminating and spectacularly stupid mistakes that I've got no qualms about bringing you into Preventer's headquarters for further questioning."
Yates lunged, not at Wufei, but at Blue. Duo reflexively pulled the boy backward off the bench and hopefully out of harm's way, but the abrupt movement only served to shatter what little composure Blue had gained, and he began to howl and writhe. "You lying little sack of shit!" Yates shouted. "I oughta wring your fucking neck! What the hell are you playing at, boy?"
"You will not touch him," Wufei said calmly. He'd pulled out his pistol and was holding it to Yate's neck. The big man straightened up, but the thunderclouds on his brow only got darker.
"I'm gonna sue the shit outta you guys."
"Fine," Wufei said, sounding utterly unconcerned. With his free hand, he pulled out a set of handcuffs. "Maxwell, could you and Winner help Mr. Ervy to his feet?"
Duo bent to help the writhing boy stand up. Quatre bent too, but he gave a hiss of pain when he tried to crouch down and Duo shook his head at him. "Let me handle this. You make sure Wufei's all right."
"Right."
It was not easy getting a panicked eighteen year old to his feet. Blue was sweating and slippery, and he didn't seem to want to go anywhere but under the work table. Duo sighed. "Goddammit, I am not getting paid enough for this," he muttered. He took hold of Blue's collar and gave a mighty heave. Blue gave a strangled urk! and scrambled to his feet; Duo threw his arms around the boy's waist to keep him there. Blue suddenly went limp, crying, and Duo sighed again. "It's just one of those fucking days, isn't it?"
Duo had his hands full--literally as well as figuratively--so Wufei got the honor of cuffing Yates. He holstered his gun and muttered, "Cover me," to Quatre, who immediately pulled out his pistol and trained it on Yates.
"Hurry up, man, this guy is heavier than he looks," Duo said irritably, holding onto the sobbing teenager in his charge. Blue only cried harder and went even more limp, causing the braided man to begin cursing under his breath. Wufei didn't envy him; he could smell the stench of terrified sweat and dried urine coming off the boy from where he stood. It must have been very unpleasant from Duo's point of view.
Yates's face was so dark a red it looked nearly purple, and Wufei found himself wishing that the man would have a stroke and save him some paperwork. He snapped the cuff onto the man's beefy right wrist. "I'm going to inform you of your rights under the EarthSphere Unified Nation Penal Codes--"
That was as far as Wufei got before his prisoner whirled around and he felt something like a padded battering ram smash into his jaw, and the world swung abruptly sideways. The filthy ground rushed up to slam him in the side.
"Holy crap, Quat, get 'im!" Duo was yelling.
Fighting back dizziness and the pain in his jaw, Wufei raised his head enough to see that Yates was running in great, lumbering strides toward the street with Quatre moving to cut him off, and it should have been an easy race, but something seemed to be wrong with Quatre. He stopped running after only a few meters, coughing and heaving for breath. He was trying to shout something, but he couldn't get the words out.
Wufei struggled for his sidearm, but before he could get to it, a shot rang out and there was a high, hoarse scream of pain. "What the fuck?" Duo said quite clearly, and Wufei echoed his sentiment silently. He blinked several times to make sure he wasn't seeing things, but there Yates was, on the ground and howling in pain as he clutched his leg.
Quatre had shot him with an unloaded pistol.
Ignoring the mystery for the moment, Wufei got to his feet and walked past the gasping blond to see to the big man. The bullet had hit him right above the knee and the wound was bleeding quite a bit, but not enough to indicate that he was going to bleed to death in the next few minutes.
Wufei knelt down and rolled Yates to his stomach, pulling his arms behind his back. "As I was saying, I'm going to inform you of your rights under the EarthSphere Unified Nations Penal Codes--"
Duo, still struggling with a limp and uncooperative Blue, suddenly let out a panicked shout. "Quatre's down! Quatre's down!"
Shocked, Wufei turned his head to see Quatre had collapsed in a limp heap on the filthy ground. "I'll read you your rights later," he said to Yates, and coshed him behind the ear with the butt of his gun. The big man immediately stopped screaming, which was one mercy.
Wufei made his way to where Quatre lay and gently rolled him over. He wasn't conscious, but he wasn't bleeding and didn't have any obvious injuries. His lips were a cyanotic shade of blue. Wufei checked his hands and saw that the nail beds were dusky grey from lack of oxygen. He pressed his fingertips to Quatre's neck and was relieved to feel a jackrabbiting heartbeat. "He's got a pulse," he said for Duo's benefit; the braided man had dragged his charge to where Quatre lay and let him drop to the ground. Duo gave a quiet sigh of relief and put one knee on the boy's back to keep him still while he rummaged around in his jacket for his cell phone.
Wufei tilted Quatre's head back and put his cheek near the blond man's nose and mouth. A very faint current of warm air brushed against his skin. Too faint. "He's breathing, but just barely. Get an ambulance."
Duo nodded. He had already dialed the Emergency Services number and was speaking with an operator. "Medical emergency. Green Earth Reclaim. I don't know the address. We need an ambulance pronto; we've got a very sick man here, he's collapsed and he's not breathing. Oh, and there's a guy with a gunshot wound too. Hurry!"
Wufei pinched Quatre's nostrils shut, took in a great gasp of air, and began to breathe for his friend.
TBC