Sour Times~Part 2
[Three Weeks Later]
"So, Barton, you did pretty good today, but you won't beat me in the close combat. It's your weak point," Nickole said, glaring at the new Captain.
"Don't worry about me. I've come out of tighter pickles. Like the Vayeade," Trowa gloated, looking across his dinner where Nickole had seated himself in the cafeteria. Envy tainted the other man's face as he sipped his coffee.
"You think that proves anything?" Nickole sneered.
"I'm the better man. I've already proved myself and taken your place. Keep in mind, you're my second fiddle, not my competitor any longer. We've already sorted that out," Trowa said in a placid, assured tone.
"Watch your step, Barton. The fall is long and hard. Just look at Zechs and Noin. You'll follow in their footsteps. You'll be back at the filthy, little circus with that tacky sister of yours before it's all done," Nickole said. Trowa grabbed the uppity Russian up by his olive dress coat and shook him over the table.
"Don't you ever talk about my sister again, you little paper pushing twirp," Trowa sneered. His face was fully visible now, relieved of his thick bangs three weeks past.
"Attention!" A warden officer called out. The quarreling pair stood like tin soldiers, facing each other with blank faces and eyes full of malice. "Barton and Nickole, report to the flight deck. Now!" They launched themselves down the hallway at a steady jog, ignoring one another.
They drew themselves to attention as soon as they got topside on the aircraft carrier's flight deck. A strong wing blew across the Indian Ocean as the sun set to their backs. Three red Cancer mobile suits lined the deck on both sides with a dozen OZ soldiers in attendance.
"Glad to see you are both so prompt," Lady Une said, walking in front of them. "I have the final assignments. Nickole, you will join the African sector where you will take command of the Moccadiju Fortress. It was a hard won spot. With it will come with a promotion to Major. The command is expansive, but I have faith that you will fulfill His Excellency's will."
"Ma'am! I will make you proud," Nickole said, snapping a salute to her in the cold dusk.
"Barton, pack for Luxemburg. You're being assigned to a top secret project that I will brief you on while we are in transit," Lady Une said, looking at Trowa's impassive face.
"Ma'am, with all due respect, you haven't given us a chance to finish our testing. Close combat testing was schedule for tomorrow. Without that, I don't see how you have a fair assessment of my abilities," Nickole said, gritting his teeth.
"You're getting the better assignment, Nickole. A promotion and a command of your very own should be very tempting. I don't understand why you would protest the assignment," Lady Une said, standing in front of him with a growing scowl.
"Luxemburg is an important assignment. It should be analyzed and assessed thoroughly before placing just anyone in it," Nickole said.
"Are you questioning my abilities to judge the placements of my own men? Maybe I do need to reassess the placements. The Russian Sector is always looking for new blood. No promotion, but you will get your command of all the political prisoners you can handle. Is that clear?" Lady Une shouted. Trowa let a conceited smile settle in despite the infraction of protocol.
"Yes, ma'am," Nickole choked out with blazing eyes.
"Good. Get a move on!" Une said, looking them both over. They both saluted and jogged back to the stairs that lead into the belly of the carrier.
"Don't think you've seen the last of me, Barton. This is only the beginning," Nickole said as they stripped their shared room and packed it into large duffel bags.
"Don't get bitten by any Tse-Tse flies. I hear they're thick this time of the year," Trowa said, hoisting his bags on his shoulders. "Don't go away from this experience mad. I'll drop you a line from Luxemburg."
With a mocking last laugh, Trowa left the bitter man alone in his misery. He squared his broad shoulders and lifted his chin high. Nickole was seething in rage and he was on his way to Luxemburg; this was perfect.
"Still no sign?" Wufei asked. Quatre didn't look up at Wufei. He continued to tap away at the keyboard. Wufei took a double-take at Quatre's appearance. He wore charcoal grey flight togs that were two sizes too large. The blonde was rumpled with dark bags under his blood-shot eyes. "I'm making some dinner. Would you like some?"
"Too busy. I've got a lead. I'm almost positive he's on a carrier in the Indian Ocean. I still can't get in touch with Doctor S. There is the possibility that he's deep undercover and not really ill," Quatre said.
"Heero told us what he saw. I think you need to take a break from that," Wufei said, reaching over and flipping off the monitor. "Duo is out looking and Heero is covering one of your assignments. I think you need to get back into your normal routine and let Trowa come to us when he's ready."
"Please, Wufei, I don't have time to talk about this. I need to find Tro..." Quatre tried to turn the monitor back on only to have his hand squeezed. Wufei yanked him out of the over-stuffed chair and dragged him to the kitchen. "What do you think your doing?"
"Eat something and sleep. Getting weak will only endanger Trowa when you go to rescue him," Wufei said. Quatre sat at the table while Wufei began to prepare some rice and vegetables. Wufei decided some tea and soup might help soothe Quatre, who was the picture of abject misery at the moment.
"You're right. Heero would say the same thing. He's so upset with me and I don't know what to do. I can't believe I did this again," Quatre said. Wufei became intensely aware of Quatre staring at his back. "You don't think I should go and save him?"
"No," Wufei said, letting an uncomfortable pause drift in. "If he is deep undercover you'll at least ruin what he's doing, at most get him executed. If he is sick, like Heero believes, what makes you think he'll shower you with gratitude when you bring him here?" Wufei waved his hands around at the dilapidated cabin with its cheap, mismatched furniture. "He'll still think he's an OZ solider."
"Its been over a month since he suffered his accident. He would have contacted Rasid or Cathrine by now if he had remembered us. Don't you think? Don't you have faith in his abilities?" Wufei asked, giving him a critical look.
"I have faith in him," Quatre shouted. His mild skin turned bright red. "I just... he needs me. I can't let him drift around in the same condition twice. Both times, my fault! I swore if I ever had a chance to make it up to him I would." Quatre buried his face in his arms as his shoulders trembled.
"You let yourself get weak," Wufei declared. He put the food on the table and took his seat. "What's all this blubbering doing to help the situation you think is so terrible?" Wufei asked. Quatre raised his tear stained face. "You see my point?" Wufei pressed. Quatre nodded and picked at the rice.
"It's very hard, Wufei. I feel so responsible for hurting him and jeopardizing everyone. I'm beginning to doubt what Heero sees in me," Quatre said. Wufei patted Quatre's shoulder and gave him a sly smile.
"Console yourself with the fact that he is alive. OZ would make it a public execution if they ever found one of us." Wufei joined him with his own food. Quatre began to eat as he slowly resigned himself to Wufei's point of view.
Trowa stepped onto the tarmac beside Colonel Une as she accepted Trowa's salute. He glanced around at the boggy landscape. The large stone cottage couldn't house more than five people at most. It was quaint, even down to a small hedge maze and English herb garden. A small herd of goats crossed the cobblestone path Lady Une lead Trowa down.
"Ma'am, I was wondering if I could send my sister a letter today? I'm pretty worried because I still don't remember her face," Trowa asked after they had chatted a little. Lady Une felt guilt settle in her heart. "I'm sure she must be beside herself. Did she reply back to your letter?"
"Of coarse, Barton, but no letters can be mailed from this top secret location. If you give them to me, I'll mail them. I don't need to tell you to be very ambiguous. Tell her that you won't be writing for another month. Understood?" Lady Une asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Trowa replied, seeming happy. Lady Une had originally thought that the circus performer was some sort of shill Trowa was using as cover in his records as he spied on OZ.
She found out the red-headed, young woman was indeed his older sister and worried about him. Lady Une had called Cathrine and told her that Trowa would be out of touch for a while. The woman took the information with a hint of bafflement, but with good cheer.
They reached the cottage and walked through it to a back hallway. The dim room they finally walked into boasted nothing except four plain walls and steps down to a basement tunnel.
"Good to see you again, Lady. I hope your trip was uneventful. Captain, it's a pleasure to see you again. Your presence here means that you passed the intensive testing that Colonel Une put you through," Treize said.
"Yes, sir. I'm ready for any task you put in front of me," Trowa said, following Treize down to the basement with Lady Une close behind. Trowa felt the ground slope sharply down as it grew pitch black. Only the sounds of their steps and a subtle water drip accompanied them to the threshold of a large, underground hanger bay. "I wish to bestow a special gift that will come with a heavy price. Gundam Arryon. How do you like it?"
"It's breathtaking, Your Excellency. I've never seen anything like it," Trowa said. Trowa's breath caught in his throat as his eyes traveled up the green Gundam trimmed in blue and yellow. Elegant was the word with its smooth lines and fins.
Trowa made a mental notes of its shield and small weight gun on the right arm and its heavy ball and chain in its left hand. Several electronic ports studded the ball indicating to Trowa a mace like weapon. It had wing appendages, similar to the Epyon, to help it glide and shield it.
"Go sit in the cockpit and see how it suits you," Treize said. Trowa almost ran to the lift cable. It raised him to the open cockpit platform as Lady Une and Treize used a small crane to bring themselves to its level. "Well, Captain, how is it?" Treize asked. Trowa's fine eyebrows knitted together while his long tapered hands in thin white gloves made themselves familiar with the controls.
"It's left handed? I see you really have customized for me," Trowa said. He smiled knowing Nickole was right-handed. There was never even a real competition; Treize himself picked him.
"Your records have you down as a left handed person. Will you need anything changed?" Treize asked.
"I'd like to change the weighting on the controls. Make it heavier. The balance will be even, but I prefer to change it to the left side," he said with a sly grin, "It'll give me an advantage, sir."
"Do as you wish and make the corrections to the Gundam. Meanwhile, I will brief you on your upcoming missions. I'll enjoy having you both as my guests in the interim," Treize said.
"Thank you, Your Excellency," Trowa answered, looking around the cockpit. "I hope you'll assign me to hunt down those Gundam pilots one by one. I'll appreciate the challenge," Trowa said, and then gave a snort of amused disdain.
"They are superior pilots on your par, Captain. You'll need to take them very seriously," Treize replied nonchalantly. "There are only four of them you'll have to deal with."
"What happened to the fifth one, sir?" Trowa asked.
"I believe he is missing from the other Gundam pilot's ranks. I have a meeting with some tiresome Romefeller officials. Please make yourselves comfortable until dinner. I anticipate a better conversation then." Treize and Lady Une lowered themselves to the ground with Trowa totally oblivious to their hushed concerns.
"More brandy?" Trowa asked, walking over to Lady Une.
"Yes, please," Lady Une answered, as Trowa poured her second drink from a lead crystal decanter. It sparkled brightly by the light of the fireplace. He served the General his drink as well and took his place at Lady Une's side with his own brandy.
"As I was saying, the only pure heart in the world is one who has been through the bloodshed of battles and arrived at the other side with a heart free of guilt. It has been tried and tested in fires of the ultimate in human beauty and atrocity," Treize stated.
"Mister Treize, about what you said earlier. About the colonies. I come from the colonies and I know very well how chaotic things are on them. I admire they way Lady Une has secured their trust with the hand of friendship. There does need to be peace on the colonies," Trowa said.
"May I address you by your first name in private?" Trowa nodded. "Well, Trowa, stand by Lady Une and she will share some of what she has learned about OZ with you. Being overly aggressive will not help us achieve our goals.'
'It will cost fewer lives if we cast the Gundams as villains and we woo the colonies into peace. A person will allow you to do a great many indignities upon them in the name of friendship. I'm counting on colonial complacency and the fact that they haven't made a joint decision in almost fifteen years. The old adage of 'divide and conquer' will be true."
"The colonies?" Trowa asked, in a breathy way as he swirled his amber liquid.
"No. The colonies I need united against their Gundams. Those are the two elements that need to be divided. After that, the colonies will become dependent on our kindness," Treize said.
"I'm intrigued by your philosophy. Tell me more," Trowa implored before taking another sip of the strong amber liquid. Lady Une smiled as her muscles relaxed.
Treize and Trowa began a wondrous session of political science and theory that ignited her imagination. She would be one of the shakers of this century before its end in five years; shaping it to Mister Treize's will using Trowa as her tool. It was destiny.
Her stomach fluttered as she hardly contained her craving to see Mister Treize's Empire built. This night was to be savored like the fine liquor she drank. It would be rare to enjoy these debates with Treize's adroit and cunning wisdom against Trowa's quick and astute mind. She smiled to herself as Trowa made a tricky point to debate from. It didn't surprise her to see Treize tear it apart and reassemble Trowa's deep ideas.
"...and, Dear Lord, thanks for the grub. Amen. Lets eat!" Duo said, genuflecting.
During Duo's slightly irreverent prayer Quatre begged Allah to show mercy to the strange American. Heero and Wufei shot Duo dirty looks and rolled their eyes not believing they came around to the religious pair's request to say grace.
"I worked all day to make this. The first one to say anything bad gets his tongue ripped out," Duo threatened. The trio tried the roasted chicken with trepidation that grew to adulation as they started to eat with abandon.
"This is wonderful! Duo, when did you learn to cook?" Quatre gushed, getting more carrots.
"Sister Helen taught me," Duo said.
"I guess the idiot is good for something," Wufei said, grabbing the last homemade roll off of Heero's plate. The Japanese boy glared and grabbed it back. A fight proceeded, ending only when Quatre cut the piece of bread in half.
"Save room for dessert, or I guess I'll eat the homemade cheery cheese cake all by myself." That statement caused a Gundam pilot riot in the tiny kitchen. The refrigerator needed a new door after the four of them crawled into the living room and lay on the carpet like a colony of bloated anacondas.
"After the war, I will hire you as my personal chief. I pay really well,"Quatre said, throwing his arm over his eyes.
"Yeah, but you wouldn't eat my pot roast and you don't give Christmas off," Duo said.
"Sorry, but I'm not converting,"Quatre said as they continued their mock debate about religion. "I ate Doctor H's cooking once. I was sick for two days."
"That ain't nothing compared to Professor G's cooking. I tell ya what he served me one night was green! It was green with these... things on top," Duo said, clutching his stomach in a painful recollection while flinging his leg in the air.
"I was lucky. Master O was a good cook. He made his way through school as a chef's assistant at Rudy's," Wufei said.
"What's Rudy's," Duo asked Wufei.
"A very posh restaurant," Quatre answered.
"I can beat all of you," Heero said, propping up on his elbows. "Have any of you tried Doctor J's haggis?" The group collectively groaned and patted Heero on his shoulders at the mere thought. "Speaking of him, I better go check the duty roster." He rolled over and rose slowly. He held out his hands to Quatre and helped the slight Arabian up before going to his laptop. "I need your help for next week's project, Quatre. You need to get out anyway." Heero sat on the chair in front of the laptop while Quatre sat on the armrest. A few key strokes later, Quatre turned towards Duo.
"Hey, Duo, didn't you say that you had an assignment in Lybia?" Quatre asked.
"Yeah, Kit-Kat. What's up?" Duo asked.
"Well, Heero and I have some work up in Luxemburg. I hear the fighting is pretty heavy in the African sector. Would you like me to have Rasid and the Magancs help out a little?" Quatre asked
"What? It should be a simple sweep. Not a biggie," Duo said.
"Not according to this latest data," Heero said, letting Duo crowd in.
"Oh man! Looks like I might need some help. Rasid won't mind, will he?" Duo asked, walking back to the bedrooms. "I wonder why OZ is suddenly on the move? And all over the place too."
"Maxwell is right," Wufei said, standing up. "We need to keep in touch. Something strange is happening. It's like they want to lure us out."
"How do you keep cool out here anyway," Duo groused, shoving his sunglasses higher on his nose.
"To begin with," Rasid said, pulling Duo down to sit beside him under Deathscythe's shadow, "we don't fidget and work up a sweat by pacing. Second, we keep from talking to much. Relax, Mister Maxwell. It will all happen when it does." Duo scooped up sand and let it slide through his fingers as he put his chin on his knees.
"I'm just not a desert person," Duo said.
"Why didn't you trade with Master Quatre?" Rasid asked.
"I would have had to work with Heero and we aren't getting along so well right now. I just don't understand why," Duo said with growing glum.
"Why what?" Rasid asked.
"Why he can be such a bastard some times. Doesn't he respect me at all? I mean... he's all worried over Quatre all the sudden and...," Duo said.
"Captain Rasid!" Omar shouted, running up to them. "Over the horizon. A green mobile suit that resembles a Gundam!" Duo and Rasid ran to a small dune and flopped down on their stomachs. Rasid pulled out a pair of binoculars as Duo shoved his sunglasses higher on his nose.
"Who is it?" Duo asked.
"I don't know, Mister Maxwell. It does look like a Gundam. I'm not familiar with it at all," Rasid said, handing over the binoculars. "Friend or foe?"
"I don't know, but I'm mounting up in case," Duo said, running back to Deathscythe.
"Prepare for battle," Rasid roared as he ran to his own mobile suit. Duo powered up his Gundam and marched forward as the hailing frequency beeped. Duo turned on the com-link to see Trowa. A sardonic expression graced his fine boned face.
"You cut all your hair," was all Duo could say as his shock settled in. "You look better, except you could loose that OZ uniform."
"Surrender, Zero-Two. I don't desire bloodshed. Just victory," Trowa said. It shook Duo to see Trowa's eyes were no longer impassive, but saturnine. Duo leaned towards Trowa's video image in disbelief; it just didn't seem like the same person at all.
"Trowa, why don't you come over to the camp and we'll talk things over," Duo said.
"In polite society one doesn't address another by their first name without permission. Especial a stranger. Now do as I said," Trowa snapped, looking offended.
"Where do you get off?" Duo asked in vexation as Trowa's Gundam advanced. "I thought we were friends. Don't you remember?"
"I've only talked to you three minutes in a cell, you terrorist. I would never dirty myself by associating with the likes of you. Enough talk," Trowa said, moving the Gundam rapidly towards Deathscythe. Duo watched the beam gun take aim at him.
"Protect Duo! Go easy on Mister Barton," Rasid ordered as the Maganacs prepared their mobile suit weapons. The beam hit Deathscythe knocking it backwards into the soft sand. "Get up, Mister Maxwell! You have to fight!" Duo shook the stars out of eyes and fired his vernier rockets to right himself. If Trowa was serious about fighting, Duo knew he would have to get in close and take him out.
"Let's play!" Duo shouted. Duo ran Deathscythe forward and took a swing with the thermal scythe. Trowa evaded and brought the mace up to smacked the scythe out of Deathscythe's hand.
"Give up. You can't beat me," Trowa said with heavy conceit.
"I don't give up," Duo said through gritted teeth as he had his Gundam throw a punch.
"He has to be dead, Colonel." Trowa said, saluting Lady Une as soon as he climbed back into the airplane's passenger seating.
"It was a long fight. Did he say anything?" Lady Une asked.
"He knew my first name and tried to convince me that we knew one another. The only time I ever meet that lousy rebel was on the moon base when I selected Zero-One to help fight that Wing-Zero monster," Trowa said. He took his seat beside her and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Now that's the pilot I want to get rid of."
"Zero-One?" Lady Une asked.
"No, Wing-Zero. It's his fault I got injured and have been suffering my memory loss. I've got some special payback plans for him and.... Oh my God. I've met him! We met him. I didn't recognize his voice at the time, but I know who he is," Trowa said with narrowed eyes.
"Who was it?" she asked, grabbing Trowa's wrist.
"That slight-looking blonde boy! In the forest. Like hell he didn't know me," Trowa growled. He smacked his knee with gloved hands. "He looked so innocent. I guess angels can be devils too. No matter, he's as good as dead when I get a hold of him." Lady Une shivered at Trowa's promise. What happened to his level-headed nature? His cool ability to assess situations devoid of emotions were all gone to a harsh, unforgiving nature.
Trowa got into the duffel bag under his seat and took his cocktail of nine multicolored pills. Lady Une raised an eyebrow.
"How much longer do you need to take all those?" she asked.
"Three weeks and he'll cut the sedatives down to half. He said in another year he'll wean me off the rest," Trowa answered. She gritted her teeth knowing that those pills were keeping him diluted, but they were also causing him to be edgy.
She felt a second dart of guilt at the fact that he was becoming a pill junky. He never abused them, just the incredible amount that was needed to maintain his brainwashing was horrible. He devoutly obeyed every order the psychologist had given him. After all, it was His Excellence's will.
Whenever she had second thoughts like, this she replayed Trowa's life story in her mind. Trowa wasn't the same person she had grown to care for the first time she knew him, but she hoped once the pills were gone out of his life he would mellow back to the way he was and never remember his true past.
Rasid took Duo's hand and shook his head. It was so small and pale compared to his. He gritted his teeth as he looked up at Duo's bruised face. He should have ordered his men to attack Mister Barton, but he didn't dare for Quatre's sake.
"Rasid! What happened," Quatre asked, running into the hospital room. Rasid stood up from Duo's hospital bedside and looked down at Quatre's face that was laced in worry. Heero followed a few minutes later. Rasid gave the intense Japanese boy a withering look.
"It would seem that Mister Barton has chosen to join Oz. He has a new Gundam. He said that he would come for all of you one by one for the glory of His Excellency Treize Khushrenada," Rasid said deliberately in Arabic to exclude Heero. "He almost killed Mister Maxwell! That coward wouldn't face the rest of us. He just ran after doing that to Duo." Rasid waved his hand at the sleeping American not concealing his outrage.
"Oh Duo," Quatre said, taking a seat on the side of Duo's bed. "How is he?"
"Lots of bruise and abrasions. Smoke inhalation and second degree burns on his legs. Allah was looking out for him, Master Quatre," Rasid said solemnly.
"It would seem that Trowa didn't come around like I had hoped. I think we should stick together until we can decide what to do," Heero replied in unsteady Arabic. Rasid sneered remembering too late that Quatre had begun teaching the intense Japanese boy their language.
"I'll stay with Duo while you get some rest," Quatre ordered, tending to Duo's pillows.
"What about Wufei?" Heero asked, leaning over Duo a little.
"Call him when you get back to the hotel and have him meet us here after his mission is done," Quatre said.
"I have a feeling I better go escort him here," Heero said. Rasid shook his head at Heero's retreat.
"I'm sorry I failed you, Master. I never imagined Mister Barton doing something like this," Rasid said.
"None of us did. Don't worry, Rasid. Duo is very resilient. As far as Trowa, I know he didn't mean it. Not Trowa. He could never willingly do this," Quatre insisted. Rasid patted Quatre's shoulder and left him to fuss over Duo.
Wufei barely avoided the thermo-weapon mace. He gritted his teeth in aggravation. Trowa wasn't as quick as Wufei, but that mace had already smashed Nataku's right arm. He wasn't torn as how to treat Trowa. He lifted the Nataku's left arm and punched at Arryon's cockpit.
"Need some help?" Heero's voice cracked over the radio.
"Thanks, Heero. I didn't realize that Trowa was this good," Wufei acknowledged begrudgingly as Wing-Zero landed behind Trowa's Gundam.
"Alright, Trowa, that's enough. Let Wufei go before I have to do something I'll regret," Heero warned. Trowa turned and fired the beam gun a Heero. Heero brought up his shield and activate his beam saber. He couldn't fire his buster cannon with Wufei still in the line of fire.
He quickly launched forward avoiding the mace and hit the green and blue head with his beam saber. It grazed off leaving sparks, smoke, and dents. Heero fell backwards realizing Trowa had punched his Gundam after dropping that electrified mace.
He smirked to himself. Maybe there was hope for the Trowa he knew. It was pure Trowa to abandon his weapons one by one as they became useless. It came with piloting one of the most overweighted Gundam ever built.
"Come on, Wufei. Lets leave," Heero said.
"Go ahead and run, Zero-One. I'll find you," Trowa sneered. Heero looked at Trowa's video image in surprise. His bangs were gone, along with a certain wariness to his emerald eyes. It was replaced with confidence, no, arrogance. Heero watched the damaged Nataku move back as quickly as possible. He covered their retreat as Trowa chuckled harshly.
"Damn him," Wufei swore as he kicked the ground.
"We'll have your Gundam fixed within two days, Mister Chang," Rasid said. Before he left the hotel room he said, "I'll update you tomorrow."
"Thanks, Rasid," Wufei said. He turned to where Heero lay on his bed while staring up at the ceiling. Quatre paced around with a furrowed brow. "He's an OZ soldier now. We need to classify him as such," Wufei ventured. He was ready to argue with them.
"No! He's just ill. If I had a chance to speak with him, I know I could talk him back around. Please just wait," Quatre begged.
"Quatre, you'll get yourself killed," Wufei said, jumping in front of him. He clenched Quatre's shoulders as Heero slowly sat up. "We need to destroy that new Gundam and put him down. I'll do it since the rest of you..."
"No, you won't," Quatre screamed, hitting away Wufei's hands. Heero grabbed Quatre's wrists to stop the onslaught against Wufei and pulled him into his arms. "I won't let you murder him," he shouted, struggling against Heero.
"Hush, Quatre. I won't let him do," Heero said. Quatre slowly stopped thrashing and relaxed in Heero's arms.
"He's too dangerous running around in a Gundam trying to pick us off one by one. Don't you think if he knew what he was doing he would want to be dead?" Wufei asked. Heero shot Wufei a scathing look as Quatre flung himself at one of the two beds and sobbed.
"Charming, Wufei," Heero hissed. "I do agree with you about him being dangerous, but I agree with Quatre about getting him to snap out of it. During the battle I noticed something. He hasn't totally lost himself, but we need to hurry."
"What are you suggesting? We kidnap him and give him the rubber hose treatment," Wufei asked.
"Not a bad idea," Heero said with a sly smile coming to lips. "I think we all need to lay low and make a few plans first. Then we need to find him."
[two weeks later]
"Hey, Heero. It's Cathrine," the girl said over Heero's cell phone. Heero had answered the phone with high hopes.
"Is Trowa with you," Heero asked.
"No, but I'm starting to worry. His commanding officer sent me a letter yesterday saying that Trowa was not to be contacted for a whole year. OZ? What's going on, Heero? Have you got him into some sort of trouble," she asked.
"Listen. You may have saved his life. Where are you?" Heero asked.
"South France," she answered baffled.
"Good. We'll be there soon. Stay put and don't get rid of the letters his commanding officer sent you," Heero said, pushing the disconnect.
"He looks so happy," Quatre said numbly. "He never smiled like that before." Quatre observed Trowa and a strange woman having breakfast on the patio of a large stone cottage.
"He probably doesn't remember anything," Heero said, lowering the binoculars. "At least we know where he's at. It should be child's play to retrieve him." Heero snuck back through the underbrush with Quatre close behind. "Lets go help get things ready for him."
"What if this isn't that right thing to do? He's not in pain any more. I can feel that. Maybe he deserves a fresh start? One where he could be happy," Quatre asked.
"Quatre, it's a lie. A lie is never correct. Trowa would want to remember his life," Heero said.
[One Week Later]
"Can't believe they didn't card Wufei. That's not right. He is the youngest," Duo groused.
"Shut up. You want to give us away?" Heero snapped back as they took their seats at a corner table in the seedy bar.It didn't host too many OZ visitors, so it was the best spot in the Luxemburg town of Esch to eat and make plans.
They looked at one another in the dim light. Quatre's expression was full of anxiety. Heero gazed at the candle in the middle of the table with a furrowed brow. Wufei kept his dark eyes moving around the bar in caution.
"Well! I'll be pregnant with Treize's love child. Look who walked in," Duo hissed, pulling out his baseball cap. He yanked it low over his eyes as he grabbed Quatre's wrist to keep him from whirling around.
"What timing," Heero said, lowering his head as Wufei did like wise. "Damn. Lets get out of here."
"No. This is too perfect. We snatch him out of here," Duo said, getting a special sparkle in his indigo eyes. The trio stared at him as if he were really pregnant with Treize's love child. "There are four of us. We start a fight, grab him, and run like hell. We can pull this off."
"Are you doing drugs?" Wufei asked, getting a sneer.
"I must be to hang around with you. Come on before he notices us and our chance is blown. It's not like we can sneak out of here now," Duo said. The four of them were quiet until Quatre took the lead. He jumped up and fixed his gaze on Trowa.
"Hey you! Treize's lapdog. What are you doing hanging around real men?" Quatre said. The bar grew quite as the patrons observed the green eyed soldier study the slight blonde boy sardonically.
"You look as if you finished nursing from your mother yesterday. Go home and find her," Trowa said, turning back to his beer. "Come back when you've grown up some."
"I'm grown up enough to know that every OZ soldier is nothing more than a fascist pig," Quatre pressed on. Trowa whirled suddenly; the patrons grew still.
"I recognize you!" Trowa shouted. Quatre's face grew soft and hopeful while Trowa took on pernicious expression. His left hand slowly went to his holster as he walked towards Quatre. The blonde's eyes grew wide with sudden understanding.
He backed away slowly as the other pilots scattered. Trowa was so intent on murder that Wufei's hand easily came down on Trowa's shoulder and rendered him unconscious. The entire bar began cheering the four pilots. They looked around in bafflement.
"Quick! Get him out of here before Colonel Une misses him." They turned to the bar tender who had a wicked grin. "He's made no popularity contest around here. If he never darkens my doorstep again, it'll be too soon."
"Not Trowa! He's so kind and gentle," Quatre said. The bar tender gave Quatre a astounded snort.
"Then I guess you just bagged sweetie's evil twin, because this bozo is a typical OZ bastard. He normally leaves an hour from now so he won't be missed until then," the bartender said.
"Thanks, mister. See? I told you my plan was a good one," Duo said as he and Heero balanced Trowa between them.
"That's only because these people hate his guts," Heero pointed out when the three of them had squeezed into a jeep's backseat.
"Better than having to go to that nasty OZ base," Duo countered as Wufei started the jeep. Quatre turned in the passenger's seat and looked on with a worried expression. Duo said, "Right, Kit-Kat?"
"Do you think he'll be okay?" Quatre asked Heero.
"He'll be fine," Heero said. "Something about you makes him uneasy. Go easy, Quatre, and put on your seatbelt. I hate Wufei's driving." Wufei shot Heero a dirty look and the bird as he drove towards the Luxemburg interior forest.
To be continued.