Author's Notes:

Finally, I present to you Chapter 6 after six long years! I want to thank everyone for being patient with me, and for still visiting this fic once in a while.

This part was hard to write, but I think I'm happy with the way it turned out. Hopefully, the next chapter will be better, and don't worry—it won't take me another six years to finish it.

As always, I would love to read your reviews! Believe it or not, I seriously consider them.

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does not belong to me.

Lunar Ember Presents

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction

Death and Taxes

Chapter 6: Convictions

Relena stood before the one-way mirror in Gunnar's interrogation room with her arms folded over her chest. The clock on the wall read two in the morning and she was still dressed in the suit she had worn the day before. She was already beyond the emotional and mental mess she had earlier found herself in, and now she stood with the focused calmness she felt every time she was about to face her battles.

Yet in spite of the second wind, she was admittedly tired. She had been up for almost 24 hours now, and with days that allowed her little rest, it took a lot to keep herself upright.

If sit I'll definitely fall asleep, she thought. Oh, what I wouldn't give for a cup of –

"Coffee?"

Allowing herself a small smile, she turned her head to see Heero approach with a paper cup in hand.

"You should really stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Finishing the conversations I have in my head," she said. He looked at her almost inquisitively, but said nothing.

She held the cup with both hands, letting the warmth seep through her skin. As one of the staunch supporters of the Preventers, her older political colleagues would now look at her as partly responsible for ESUN's system breach. The President had already been breathing down her back, and she was also anticipating a lot of criticism from the Treasury Head upon his return, especially since he never liked her to begin with.

It doesn't end there. Others critical of the new government would soon follow suit, and the Conservative Party would definitely throw her dirt the next time she addressed Congress. The proposed Preventers' budget cut for the following fiscal year would once again gain ground, but what's worse was that they could probably sway both Houses to allocate the money to revive the once dismantled arms of the military. As one of them had told her, "If the Preventers couldn't prevent much, then it's about time that we give the money to people who can actually do something about threats."

Relena bit her lip. Une and the rest of the team had to give her something she can protect them with in front of a dissatisfied panel.

"You should drink that before it gets cold."

"Oh. Sorry," she said, blinking rapidly to clear her head. "There's just so much to think about."

She turned to look at him as she took a few sips. Heero was in his uniform, still looking clean and crisp as he did the morning before. She allowed herself to appreciate the sight of him before doing her best to focus on the matter on hand.

"Who will question Gunnar?"

"Une wanted to do it, but Maxwell insisted that he do it himself," Heero said as he leaned against the wall. "You actually shouldn't be here."

"I want to hear what he has to say."

Heero's eyes pierced through her own. "Wufei's sweepers found rifles under the floor boards of the house of a certain 'Richard Gregory'."

"Who?"

"'Richard Gregory' is one of Gunnar's many aliases, and the house is one of his many properties. Aside from being well-off on illegal money, this washed-up programmer seems to have been doing this charade for a long time." His tone was serious and even. "And you know by now that he's one of the men who tried to kill you and Alex."

Relena tore her gaze away from Heero, partly ashamed at how she has handled the situation thus far, and partly because she knew she deserved reproach.

He was right—she trusted way too easily sometimes, and it turns out, so did Duo. When they had earlier learned that Gunnar had hacked into the ESUN media database to get a pass to her press con, he had offered to drop the charges in return for the programmer's help. CID had also been beefing up the Public Relations Office's security protocols after the incident, but with the recent developments, the efforts now seemed moot.

"I want to know why he did what he did," Relena whispered.

Why had he gone through all the trouble of being shot to infiltrate the Preventer HQ, of creating a program to destroy from within much of what she had built? If there's a lesson that she had learned in the years after the war, it was that there was no way that she could completely win the hearts of the Earth or the Colonies. There had been many dissidents and even more incidents of upheaval, but every time she would come face to face with rebels or would-be assassins, she found herself looking for answers, wondering where she had gone wrong, and at times, thinking if what she had been doing even merited anything.

Heero pushed himself from the wall and approached her. "You're blaming yourself for all this."

Relena kept silent.

"You shouldn't," he muttered as he stood beside her. There was a good distance between them, but the sudden shift in his voice made her feel as if there was none. "The breech would have happened whether we liked it or not. Maxwell had not anticipated it until it was too late, and neither did I."

She looked up at him. Although his face betrayed no emotions, she saw his eyes darken.

"That's not true, Heero. If at all, you're the only one who had managed to see through Gunnar."

"My precautions were not enough," he answered. "If I had seen it at the onset, there would not be any damage control to do."

All of a sudden, she laughed. It was a rough contrast to her usual conservative chuckles, and it conveyed no glee or happiness. She didn't know why it came out, but she felt slightly relieved when it did.

Heero turned to her with a questioning gaze, and she simply smiled at him before walking over and resting her bandaged forehead on his shoulder.

"Look at the two of us: we're both disappointments to ourselves," she said. "Well, at least you're here. Misery needs company."

He didn't respond, but instead placed a warm, calloused hand on her nape. She let herself stay there for a moment, knowing that she looked absurd especially with one hand still holding up a cup of coffee. She didn't mind, though. The nearness of him smelled of security, and it was something she needed.

Heero didn't release her even as the door slid open, and Relena allowed him to hold on to her a bit longer until she heard Duo ask if she was okay.

"I'm fine," she said, reluctantly pulling away. "I'm just really tired."

The CID Head looked worse than she did. Mirthlessly, he pulled a chair and sat down as Wufei, Une, a few guards, and a couple of her own security personnel entered the room.

"There are two more out the door," Heero said, answering her unasked question. "We have to be sure of your safety. We don't know what this man might do or who else is in his scheme."

"But – "

"Don't argue with him, Princess," Duo piped in. "He's right when he's right."

He sounded so bitter that she unwittingly placed a hand on his shoulder. He patted her fingers and gave her a lopsided grin.

"Don't worry. After I'm done," he shot Gunnar a disgusted look through the glass, "there wouldn't be much of him left to clean up."

She knew he was joking. At least she hoped he did, but the ominous shadow in his eyes made her think that part of him wasn't.

Une observed Gunnar through the glass. "Talk to me, Chang."

"The perimeter of the Complex is secure," Wufei replied. "Regarding Gunnar's properties, CID has already given us a list of everything and we have sweepers deployed to all of them."

"We're already up and running, Maxwell?"

"At 89 percent."

"That's faster than expected."

"That's because somebody had tipped one of my kids." Duo turned to look at Heero. "Kevin told me that you asked him to create a back-up of the back-up when he bumped into you the day I showed you Gunnar's work."

"Yes, I did."

The former Deathscythe pilot smiled. "Then I owe you one, man. Your gut-feel saved us from worse damage. Remind me to listen to you more often." He paused and shrugged. "Well, not too often, but you know what I mean."

Relena looked at Heero, who acknowledged his comrade with a dismissive snort. Although he had seemed frustrated about the breach, he had evidently still anticipated it. His ability to predict outcomes was uncanny that sometimes she thought that it wasn't the Zero System that had rubbed off him—it probably was the other way around.

"Here are the properties that we've managed to seize," Wufei said as he handed Duo a tablet.

"And the exception?"

"We've done as you've requested." The Chinese officer folded his arms over his chest. "I personally don't see the point, but Sally convinced me to do it your way."

"I better thank Sally then," Duo said as he stood. "Well, let's get this show on the road."

Relena watched as he entered Gunnar's room. The weariness that had been evident on his features was replaced by a relaxed and amicable expression; a look of someone you can easily trust and befriend.

"Hey there, pal." Duo voice filtered through the speakers. "Man, that's a nasty bruise you got on your face. Wuffles can really be harsh, huh."

"I'm gonna kick his face in if he doesn't stop calling me that," Wufei muttered beside Une.

"Anyway," Duo continued as he sat across the suspect. "I just wanted to commend you for doing a great job making all of us look like jackasses."

"You're quite easy to fool," Gunnar snorted as he involuntarily shook his handcuffs. "I was actually surprised that the esteemed Preventers fell for such a scheme."

Relena heard Wufei growl from the sidelines. Gunnar's expression of superiority was far from what he wore during the first time Relena spoke with him, and his tone grated on everybody's nerves. If politics hadn't taught her to look neutral in spite of her emotions, she would have probably echoed Wufei's annoyance.

Duo, however, seemed unperturbed. "Well, yeah," he shrugged. "The whole thing was honestly stupid of me, I admit. Still, it will look good on your resume." He leaned back and swiped his hands apart, "Rodrick Gunnar, master of penetrating government systems and making a sham of inter-stellar security. There's bound to be someone to hire you. The world doesn't lack for idiots—"

"Look," Gunnar said as he made a move to stand. "If you just brought me out to chat, maybe you can just get me back to my cell."

"Sit down."

The dark tone of Duo's voice was a sharp contrast to the light smile on his lips, and Gunnar sat back without question.

"You've already had a go at our professional egos, and that's all well and good. Now, it's our turn. See, we already have our theories, but we need you to corroborate them. Do you work for Kraz?"

"Do you really think that I will answer that?"

"Yes."

Gunnar laughed. "You really are an idiot."

Duo blinked at the programmer, scratched his nape, and regrettably sighed. "Well, I didn't want to do this, but you forced me to." He took out a sheet of paper from the folder he brought in with him, and handed it to Gunnar. "That's a list of all your aliases and all your properties under them. Sweepers are now at all of these locations to sequester them and maybe smoke out a rat or two."

"You don't have any proof that these are mine."

"Oh, in fact we do, but that would be another long list. How about we just stick with this one," Duo pulled up a photo of what seemed to Relana to be a satellite shot of a house in the middle of a forest. For the first time since the interview started, Gunnar's haughty expression faltered.

"What the hell is this?"

"Oh, sorry. Here's the zoomed-in version."

Relena watched Gunnar's expression crack.

"This is the last of your properties that we haven't sequestered yet only because the old woman living in it is pretty nice." Duo peered at the photo, and spoke in a cloying tone. "Oh wait, isn't she your mom?"

"My—My mom's been dead for years." Relena could see Gunnar nervously swallow.

"So the lady in the photo isn't her?"

"No."

"Okay then," Duo shrugged. "Then you wouldn't mind if we…invited her to the nearest Preventer office?"

"What—what do you mean?"

The ex-Deathscythe pilot shifted from amicable to predatory, and he did not hide the fact that was he was immensely enjoying the dawning horror in Gunnar's face. "This lady is living in one of your alias' properties. Odd—when we asked her how you were related, she said that she was your mother, before proceeding to tell our sweepers how wonderful you are, working for this non-profit organization that helps farmers."

Gunnar started to shake, and Duo's feral smile widened. "Yes, we do have sweepers surrounding the house right now, because technically, she's an accomplice. She'll off course go through questioning, and if there's probable cause, a fair trial, but I'm not sure about how an 82-year-old woman would survive the system—"

With a guttural scream, Gunnar lunged at Duo who easily caught him by the nape before smashing his head on the table.

"Oh?" He whispered into the programmer's ear. "Did I hit a nerve?"

The voice that crackled through the speakers was cold and to alien to Relena.

"Heero, are you sure—"

"Let him work."

It was at these times that she wondered if she truly knew any of the Gundam pilots at all. She had always known that she had barely scratched the surface, but seeing the dark rage that boils in all of them in rare display somewhat unnerved her.

Duo lifted Gunnar's head. "I'm waiting."

The man tried to grab him yet again and found himself pinned to the table a second time.

"Chang?"

"What?"

"Give the signal to your men."

"No, wait, wait! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Duo paused and his lips broke into a friendly smile as he pushed Gunnar back into his chair and dusted off his shoulders.

"There, see? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Gunnar licked at the blood from where his lips had broken. "I've been working with Kraz. There are many of us."

"On what?"

"On a program. They said it was based on something that was used during the Eve Wars."

There was cold silence at the mention of the uprising almost everyone in the room figured in. Even Duo had to pause: he eyed Gunnar before asking, "What kind of system?"

"It calculates—" the man then cut himself off, suddenly seething with anger. "Did you honestly think that people are content with this so-called peace you're trying to keep?" He looked at Relena's direction, even if he didn't know she was there. "Ask your precious Banphrionsa who continues to espouse pacifism: does she think she knows what's best for all, after living in privilege her whole life? She knows nothing of what the rest of us had to go through—"

"That's enough." Duo hit the table with his fist.

Gunnar's eyes flitted back towards him. "You and your ilk have taken far too much from us already. Let my mother go."

"Answer the question. Now."

The programmer took a sharp breath, weighing his odds before finally relenting.

"Battle probabilities. We're building a program that calculates battle probabilities."

It was a quarter past three in the morning when they started walking back to reconvene in Une's office. Relena slowly paced behind the group, Gunnar's words ringing in her ears.

"She knows nothing of what the rest of us had to go through."

"He's not worth your thoughts."

She blinked, suddenly realizing that Heero had fallen in step with her. Despite the neutrality of his expression, his eyes were cold and angry. He had probably been reeling in his emotions from the moment that Gunnar's interrogation had started, and revelation after revelation continually stoked the fire.

Yes, Gunnar was one of her shooters.

Yes, he worked with Kraz, but not for him.

No, he didn't know who Adebowale Minsando was.

Yes, Kraz was her other shooter.

Yes, they siphoned government money to build a tactical software.

Yes, it's a software that predicts outcomes.

"This is more serious than we thought," she could hear Une say as they entered her office and locked the door behind them. Only the Director, Duo, and Wufei were present. Quatre and Trowa were in remote attendance. "If Kraz is indeed Relena's second shooter, then this could be another stain that could mar relations between the Earth and the Colonies."

"That might not even be the worst of our problems," Duo said. "What they're building, do you think that it could be…"

He let it trail off, but Heero finished it for him.

"The Zero System. Or an iteration of it."

There was an uncomfortable pause in the room.

"But how would they have access to that kind of information?" Quatre asked as his voice crackled through the speaker.

"It's probably easy when you have one foot in," Une said. "Kraz has access to classified government information, and now he has a team of engineers. And it seems that this Adebowale Misando has access to so much more." Une rubbed her temples. "Barton, what do you have on this person?"

"It's an alias," Trowa answered. "She's off the grid. I've only pieced together her movements through Kraz's clandestine meetings with her, and it seems that the two of them always take trips to L4."

"I can already send sweepers in to get Kraz," Wufei suggested. "We already have ample evidence to do so."

Une nodded. "But do it quietly. We can't that slip out just yet. Barton, Maxwell has already tracked where the Treasury's money has been siphoned to. Apparently, a huge chunk has been sent to accounts in L2. I need you to continue the trace."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Relena."

She had been silent for the entire conversation, and it almost seemed that the four other pilots had forgotten she was there.

"Relena," Une repeated, smiling weakly at her. "I hope you're not thinking much about what that bastard was saying in other room a while ago."

"I'm not." She was.

The Director nodded. "Go to sleep. We've got to plan what we'll be saying to the media tomorrow."

The meeting broke out shortly after that, and now Relena sat on the safe house's bed in her pajamas, removing the bandages from her upper left arm.

The bullet graze wound was still fresh and tender, an ugly half inch of open flesh running across her skin. The antibiotics and the painkillers helped lessen the infection and the pain, but the fact that she wore suits for work probably didn't help with the healing. She sighed as she stood up and threw away her old bandages, before retrieving her own medical kit and knocking on Heero's door, lifting her arm when he answered.

"I'm not even going to try doing this on my own."

Dressing her wounds seemed to have been an unspoken ritual between the two of them now, and it helped Relena calm down the past few highly stressful days. Tonight, she sat at his work desk and watched him treat the ugly gash in silence, watched him as afterwards, he checked on the stitches on her forehead and decided that those bandages needed replacing as well.

"Heero," she whispered as she tilted her head up and pushed her bangs back to allow him to see the injury better. "Would you be angry with me if I thought Gunnar was right?"

He paused midway through applying ointment, looking at her for a long moment before answering.

"No. But I'll have to disagree with you."

"He was right about privilege," she said as he continued his ministrations. "I've never truly known how hard it was for others."

"Pain is relative, Relena."

"I know, but what do I know of true suffering?"

"You don't need me to enumerate all the things you've been through. It's not a competition."

"I didn't mean it that way, but…"

"Relena," he said her name deliberately as he leaned over her, carefully taping new gauze on her forehead. "We've been in the same war. We only fought different battles."

Sighing, she hung her head.

"Look at me." She raised her gaze again and found him staring intently at her. "Do you know why people follow you?"

"No."

"Because you don't just talk. You listen. And you don't just listen. You act." He walked the few steps to his bed and sat, resting his arms on his knees. "Power corrupts people. You know this more than most. And the corrupted don't often realize that they are chest deep in dirt, indulging in pride and privilege, thinking that they know what's best for the masses, without even listening to the those whom they serve."

He held her gaze, his voice deep and quiet. "You, however, have never fallen into that trap. The fact that you're questioning yourself because of a criminal's opinion is proof of that."

Relena swallowed the lump in her throat, both touched and embarrassed by everything that he had just said.

"Do you know why I follow you?"

He did, didn't he? Literally, and she guessed, figuratively. It was an odd, sudden question, but she was too tired to think about it. Instead, she shook her head and stared at her hands, sadly laughing despite herself.

"Maybe because you've finally decided to kill me?"

She felt him stand and approach her, his hand falling on the top of her head and gently sliding down her cheek, his fingers ending under her chin, biding her to look up.

His eyes were kind. "Better go sleep, Relena," he said. "You need to rest."

She couldn't help but mirror the small smile on his lips and she nodded, standing and picking up her medicine kit to go back to her room.

"Thank you, Heero."

When she finally closed the door that separated their quarters, she realized that he never really answered the question he had posed.

One day, maybe he will.

Quatre Raberba Winner sat alone at a ten-seater table as the event host announced that the dance floor was open. The celebrations were for the new library that the Winner Foundation had partially sponsored, and while he usually only sent representatives to such occasions, he knew he had to be in this one. The library was built in collaboration with L2's government, and as such, Kraz' office was in attendance, including Trowa.

"Where is he?" Quatre softly asked the Heavy Arms ex-pilot as they followed a tour group through the newly inaugurated library earlier that day.

"Kraz disappeared this morning. No one knows where he is. If he doesn't show up tomorrow, his staff will have to make a statement."

"Do you think he knows we're looking for him?"

"Could be. Did you see the news?"

"Yes. Une announced that they found one of Relena's shooters."

"That'll keep the press busy for a while."

"That's true. But I'm more worried about the news coming out of L2."

Smiling at a waiter who offered him a refill of wine, Quatre scrolled through his phone once more, reading through L2 updates on the protests of the Farmers' Union. Tapping on another link, he read:

"Protests on the L2 colonies have been gaining momentum as several groups of the Farmers' Union demand for the budget which the Earth Sphere, under the recommendation of Foreign Minister Relena Darlian, had approved for yield and hydroponics research. The budget that was reported to have been released earlier last month seemed to have anomalously disappeared, leading to allegations that Minister Darlian, L2 Representative Marcus Kraz, and L2 Agricultural Secretary Timothy Nielsen may be in connivance with—"

"A somber face doesn't suit you, Mr. Winner."

He had already felt her approach before she spoke. Without turning to look, Quatre said, "Hello, Dorothy."

"Ah," the woman breathed as she looked at the screen of his phone from over his shoulder. "Such unsettling news."

He returned the device in his coat pocket, stood up, and turned around to face her with a smile as an acquaintance momentarily passed by their table. "May I ask for a dance, Ms. Catalonia?"

The woman gave him a knowing look. "How can I refuse the Colonies' most eligible bachelor?"

He led her to the dance floor where people waltzed to the live music of a string quartet. Dorothy's black serpentina gown hissed softly against the marble as he pulled her to him, one hand holding hers, another at her waist. Quatre could feel eyes on them and knew that high society would be whispering about them the next day. The Winner heir almost never attended events himself—that he was dancing with a highly-influential bachelorette was nothing short of the ultimate gossip-fodder.

"What are you playing at this time, Dorothy? Why are you working with Kraz?"

The woman gazed at him with glacier eyes. "Oh, Quatre, I thought you knew me better than that. I never work for anyone but myself."

"I had to warn Une and the rest about you."

"As you should."

"Please stop this. I don't want to meet you in another battlefield."

The woman smiled. "Is that a threat, Mr. Winner? Or are you just being sweet?"

"Dorothy…"

"Very well, let me tell you a secret." She leaned over and whispered in his ear. "I know where Kraz is, and I know where ESUN's money is. Now tell me that you trust me."

"I—"

"You believed in me so many years ago, and several years after that. What was your word for me back then? 'Kind'?"

Quatre regarded her in silence. With Dorothy, one can never be sure, but meeting her in Kraz' office wasn't the first time they've seen each other since the Mariemaia incident. Dorothy had been shuttling back and forth the Earth and the Colonies much like he was as they worked on their own conglomerates and foundations, but aside from that, they also managed a different kind of trade: information. Quatre's loyalties had always been with the Preventers. Dorothy's, on the other hand, had always been hazy. He knew she was an expert manipulator, but he also knew that deep down, she worked based on her own code of honor that she, and even he, respected.

"There's too much at stake here, and I can't make mistakes," he finally said. "But I'll believe you this once."

"Good enough," the woman smiled. "I'll be in touch. I promise you'll like the information I'll be sending you. For now, dip me."

"What?"

"You know how society's upper crust loves gossip, especially during these trying times, and I know that's exactly why you asked me to dance. I'm sure Ms. Relena wouldn't want another glaring headline about the Farmers' Union tomorrow, so let's put on a show and steal the limelight from her, shall we? Besides, I want a nice photo on the front page. Dip me."

Quatre did, and Dorothy leaned in for a kiss.

"You've been very busy last night," Trowa said over a Preventer-issued phone line. "I've seen the papers."

"I'm watching the news. Dorothy wanted a 'nice photo'. I guess she would be pleased."

He stopped at a morning show, right when the anchor was saying, "Have the women of the Earth Sphere finally lost their chance with billionaire Quatre Raberba Winner? I think I'm still hearing the sound of millions of hearts breaking! Did you see those leaked photos of that hot kiss he shared with Dorothy Cat—"

He turned off the TV, almost embarrassed. The kiss…was not unpleasant. "It's a good public distraction," he mumbled to Trowa. "Did you get the data I sent?" True to her word, the former Romefeller spy had provided him with information on the lost ESUN funds before the previous evening ended.

"Yes, and it's interesting." There was a pause and the sound of typing. "It looks like I don't need to look far to track the money."

"What do you mean?"

"The lump of it is still being credited bit by bit to what seems to be placeholder bank accounts. All within the system of several banks that the Catalonia family owns."

Quatre realized that it wasn't unexpected. He closed his eyes and sighed, unsure of what to make of the new information. "Dorothy has ESUN's 23 billion, and she wants to make sure that we know it."

To be continued

Next chapter: Ghosts from the past begin to stir, and Heero is once again reminded that even the Perfect Soldier can fail.