For a long moment everything was dark. His heart was pounding in his ears. All around him he could feel the humming of the machine. Metal fingers slipped gently under him and it felt as if he was being lifted into the air. Did this mean he was being captured? Odin never told him what to do if he got captured. When the boy asked, all he'd said was: "You don't want to know."
So he sat there, waiting for whatever was about to happen. He had to get himself to a computer with linkup access. How he was going to do that he didn't know. There might not be a computer where they were taking him. Or the pilot might just decide to squish him. The mobile suit's hand was more then capable of crushing every bone in his body. That should kill him. If not he was going to be in the hospital for a very long time. The boy sighed. Getting put in the hospital was so inconvenient.
The hand stopped and the humming took on a different tone. There was a sort of hissing sound and the fingers of the hand pulled apart. The boy suddenly found himself staring into the cockpit of the suit. The pilot took unbuckled his safety harness and held out his hand to the boy.
"Come on. It's okay. I'll get you out of this mess."
Well there was no else to go. The boy took the pilot's hand and scrambled into the cockpit. The man pulled him on his lap and buckled the harness around both of them. The pilot pressed a switch above him and the doors hissed shut. There were so many switches and gauges. He wandered what they all did. Outside all he could see was the tops of buildings. Was Odin okay?
"Sir!" blasted a voice from the speaker beside him. The boy jumped. The pilot sighed and pressed a button beside the intercom.
"You don't have to shout, Cadet. I can hear you just fine."
"Yes Sir. But Sir. The rebels have surrendered."
"How many are left?"
"Three, Sir.
"Very well. I leave it to you Cadet. I'm heading back to base."
"Sir!"
The boy watched what the pilot did closely. It must be so much easier to work from a mobile suit. It was easier to kill when you couldn't see your enemy's face clearly. The only drawback was that a mobile suit was too conspicuous. It was a soldier's weapon…not an assassin's.
"My name is Weaver. Fredrick Weaver," the pilot said. "What's yours?"
The boy kept quiet and watched Weaver's feet work the pedals. He could feel it walking. Pressing back with the heel brought the foot up. Slowly nudging the toe down made the Leo's foot go forward and down.
"Not the talkative kind, huh? What were you doing down
there anyway? Were you with your parents?"
The boy nodded. Odin said that
it was a good idea to let the interrogator answer his own questions. That way
you could pick which answer was best.
"Hmph. Damned rebels. There were innocent people down there and did they give a damn? No. It's once they stop caring that they really become monsters."
The boy twisted his head up to look at the pilot. Was…was that really true? He still cared. He still cared a lot. So…maybe Odin was wrong. Maybe he wasn't a monster after all. Weaver looked down at him and smiled. His brown eyes were really kind. The boy looked away. Kind people always died. Maybe that was why everything was so terrible.
Soon they reached the base. Weaver backed up into the wall and there was a slight jerk as the magnet took hold. The pilot pressed the switch to make the doors open. The boy blinked when they did. They were high up and there was no way he could see to get down.
"Do we have to jump?" the boy asked. Weaver laughed.
"So you do have a voice. I was beginning to wonder there." The man shook his head. "No. Someone will come along to help us down." The pilot then ran his fingers down a row of switches near his elbow. As the last switch was pressed, a little door popped open right beside it. Inside was a small, rectangular piece of dark green metal.
"What's that for?" the boy asked as Weaver pried the strip of metal from its little alcove.
"Have you ever seen your Daddy start a car?"
The boy sighed inwardly. It was time to be treated like a little kid again. He couldn't wait to grow up and get it over with.
"So that's a key?"
"Right."
"Can another key start it?"
"Nope. Not unless they reprogram the suit." From below came the sound like a car pulling up and then the whirring of a machine. Weaver undid the safety harness. A metal platform with metal railings rose into view. An old man in a dirty jumpsuit was riding it. His white eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Pick up a passenger Captain?"
"Yeah. This here is… uhh… what is your name anyway, boy?"
The boy went out onto the platform and put his hands on the railing. This was obviously the housing bay for the mobile suits. There were less then he'd thought there'd be.
"Not very talkative is he?" the mechanic said.
"He's been through a lot." The platform on wheels went down. The boy tuned out the adult conversation above him. It was going to be difficult completing his mission here. Getting onto the communications system without being detected shouldn't be too much of a problem. There was so much running through here they wouldn't pay much attention to a transmission from their own base. Getting to a computer though would be a problem. The platform settled but the adults didn't seem to be getting off any time soon.
"Have you tried the beam gun yet?" the mechanic asked. The boy slouched a little and kept a close ear on the conversation. The other suit had used a beam gun. Did that mean all the Leos were equipped with them?
"I didn't. Cadet Burke did though."
"And?"
"And it's entirely too strong
for such a small environment. The entire entertainment district is heavily
damaged."
"That'll teach 'em," the mechanic said with a sniff. "We shouldn't even bother to rebuild it. Those rebels don't deserve it."
"Rebels only make up a small part of the population." Weaver's voice was hard and a little angry. "Most of this colony is made up of innocent people. It's our duty to protect them."
The mechanic shook his head and patted Weaver's shoulder.
"You'll understand one day, lad."
For a minute or two, neither of them said anything. Finally Weaver sighed. A large, grown up hand ruffled the boy's hair.
"You're probably getting bored aren't you?" Weaver asked. The boy shrugged.
"You should send him to the hospital wing," the mechanic said. "Judging from what I heard, that was quite a scrap he got himself into." Oh no. Not the hospital. Anything but that.
"I'm fine, really!" the boy protested as Weaver led him from the platform. "I'm not hurt at all."
"Well we'll check anyway. Just to see."
When they had gone halfway across the bay area, the hugs doors slid open and a group of soldiers came in. Marching in between the soldiers were the former rebels. The boy's heart jumped as he saw Odin among them. He was okay! He hadn't died! The little kid part of him wanted to run up to him and hug him. But the sensible side of him knew better. Odin being captured might complicate things… Besides, alive or not, the boy still had a mission to do.
Behind the soldiers came the second Leo. The lower part of its arm was gone. The entire entourage stopped a few feet in front of them. What should I do? the boy thought, looking into his mentor's green eyes. Odin glanced at him then looked away. Ah. Okay. So he wasn't supposed to know him.
The Leo's hatch opened and its young pilot slid down a black nylon rope to the ground. Cadet Burke marched up to them, beaming with pride. Hmph. It wasn't as if he even did anything. Crushing a small rebellion with superior weaponry was nothing to gloat about.
"This will only take a moment," Weaver muttered to the boy. "I hope."
"Rebels caught Sir!" Cadet Burke snapped off a salute.
"So I noticed. Did you find out who the ring leader of this operation is?"
Cadet Burke walked behind Odin and shoved him forward. It was all the boy could do not to react. They couldn't blame Odin! Captain Weaver couldn't believe it. If they suspected Odin was the leader, he could be in real trouble.
"This is the bastard right here, Sir."
"How can you be sure?"
"He's the one that surrendered."
"Why?" The word tumbled out of the boy's mouth before he could stop it. Odin glared at him. Shut up, kid. His eyes said. The boy looked away. He shouldn't have asked but…but it was stupid! What good did surrendering do? What was the point of it?
"He's not the leader!" the woman yelled. The boy glanced at her and mentally sighed a little. How in the world did she survive? "Our leader died valiantly under your unfair tactics! He just showed up out of nowhere with that kid!" She pointed right at him. The boy flinched slightly. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. She had a big mouth. Someone really needed to shoot her.
"Is that true?" Weaver asked. The boy stared at the floor. What was he supposed to say now? He could say no but Weaver would know he was lying. Saying yes wouldn't help either. He could say that Odin had kidnapped him but that would get Odin into even more trouble.
"I wouldn't believe her, Sir," Burke said. "She's just trying to protect him. This is the bastard who hit my Leo with the rocket launcher. Only higher ups would have those." The cadet shoved Odin again, hard. Odin stumbled, falling to his knees on the hard floor.
"Stop shoving them around, cadet," Weaver said with a sigh. The boy glared at Burke, focusing his gaze right between the pilot's eyes. He could kill him. He could really kill him. The stupid man had everything all wrong.
"They're rebels, sir," Burke said, meeting the boy's glare. "Rebels killed my brother. As far as I'm concerned, they deserve everything they get." It was strange. His voice was saying the words… but his eyes didn't seem angry. They were almost…bored.
"I
understand your feelings Mr. Burke. However, a soldier who cannot control his
emotions is a soldier with no place on the battlefield. Understood Cadet?"
"Understood sir," the man
muttered, looking down.
---
The boy sat on the edge of the examination table and kicked his feet. Another examination. More questions he couldn't answer. More sympathetic adult looks. He hated hospitals. At least the stethoscope hadn't felt like it had been dunked in ice water. Captain Weaver had left at the beginning of the examination. But he was back now and talking with the doctor in hushed tones. He could just barely hear their conversation.
"I would say that he's led a fairly violent life before this," the doctor said.
"How can you tell?"
"Well, there's no physical evidence I could find. But…well…
For one thing, he walked in here like nothing was wrong…but there was a gash on
his leg about as long as my hand. It's almost like he's…used to pain."
"Could it be a shock?"
"Could be. But, I'll tell you, Captain; I've treated a couple of kids that went through the same situation that he did. Even the ones who were barely scratched had some kind of emotional response. He just looks…well like he doesn't care. Like nothing happened at all. I'm no child psychologist or anything but it's eerie."
Booted footsteps crossed the tile. He looked up as Weaver came over to him. The man was smiling, but there was a thoughtful look in his eyes. There was still a chance though. Weaver knew a lot…but not too much. Nothing that would endanger the boy's mission. As long as Weaver didn't find out too much he would live. The man pulled a chair beside the hospital bed and looked into the boy's face.
"It looks like you're going to be fine. You're just scraped up a bit. Would you like to tell me your name now?"
"I'm tired," he said, stretching out on the bed and closing his eyes. There was the sound of a chair scraping back followed by a heavy sigh.
"Excuse me, Sir," the doctor said. "But we have casualties coming in. We're going to need all the beds we have."
"I'm sure the lad wouldn't mind bunking in my room."
Hands came underneath him. The boy instinctively flung his arms around Weaver's neck as the man lifted him up.
"I can walk on my own," the boy said, glaring up at him.
"Of course you can," Weaver said in a patronizing tone. "But you hurt your leg and the doctor wants you to stay off it for a while."
There was no help for it. If he refused to be carried then Weaver might think he was abnormal. He didn't like it though. It made him feel small and young. At any time the man could drop him. Or maybe take him somewhere he didn't want to go…like a prison cell. He wasn't that injured. He could walk on his own. But apparently little kids were supposed to cry over every little scratch.
"Did you really know that man?" Weaver asked after a while.
"No."
"That's good…because he's going to be executed tomorrow."
"Hn." What a dumb tactic to use.
Weaver might get something out of that woman, but he'd never get anything out
of Odin. The man didn't say any more until they got to the room. There wasn't
much. A bed…a few pictures on the wall…and a computer terminal. Perfect.
"You know, there are a lot of bad people out there." Weaver set him on the bed and sat beside him. "You can help make sure what happened to you never happens again. All you have to do is talk to me. Tell me everything you've heard or seen. Anything can be important. You won't get in trouble…I promise."
The boy lay back on the surprisingly soft bed, crossing his arms behind his head. His leg was starting to ache now. Why was it always his legs? Why couldn't his arm get hurt instead?
"We'll talk when you're ready. You just rest now." The man patted his knee lightly. Across the room the computer terminal started beeping. The man sighed and went over to it.
"Captain Weaver here."
"Sir! Sir the Major wants to speak to you, sir. And, Sir,
he doesn't sound happy."
"Of course not…"
"Sir?"
"Patch it down here, Cadet."
"Weaver!" an old, stuffy voice bellowed. "You have the easiest post to command in the entire damned cluster! How do you explain losing fifteen good men to a group of ragtag rebels!?"
"I can explain, Sir."
"You'd damned well better!"
The boy closed his eyes, tuning out the conversation. After the Captain left, all he would have to do was contact the higher ups, as Odin would call them. Now that he thought about it, Burke had used that term too. Was it just a coincidence? Well, even if it wasn't, the boy wasn't about to take any risks. All Odin had told him to do was to contact those people and tell them what happened. Hopefully they would tell him how to get Odin out of here.
---
It was quiet as the boy slowly woke. Someone had covered him up. Oh no! He'd fallen asleep! He bolted upright. There was nothing in the room to tell him how much time had passed. Anything could have happened. That had been really stupid. Inwardly cursing his own weakness, the boy scrambled out of bed and opened the door a crack. There was no sign of Weaver. There was just a drowsy looking guard leaning against the far wall.
It wasn't hard to bypass the security code on the computer. Weaver had only used a four digit alphabetical password. Within a few minutes the boy was into the communications system He liked doing this kind of thing. If he moved carefully, there was so much he could find out. So much information was available. Now…what had that code been again? X-3….97.5… Yes. That was it. There was a moment's wait then a woman with frizzy red hair appeared on the monitor.
"Yes, how can I help you?" she said in a bored monotone. Then she seemed to really notice him and her eyes widened in surprise. "You're just a kid! This is a government line, bucko. Not something to be messing around with. I suggest you get off before you get in serious-"
"Odin told me to call," the boy said in a low voice. Hopefully the woman would take the hint and keep her voice down. He didn't know how thin the walls were and the last thing he wanted was anyone overhearing his conversation.
"How would you-" She stopped as realization dawned on her. "Ohh. You're his little protégé huh? Hang on a minute." The screen flickered and he found himself staring at the back of a tall chair.
"So what's the problem?" a man's voice said.
"Odin's been captured."
"How did this come about?"
"We got caught in a rebellion. We didn't know it was going to be there and…" The boy paused. Should he really tell this man what Odin had did? Odin always said that they didn't like him working on his own. "And got caught," he finished lamely.
"So they don't know who he is?"
"No."
"Good. Then kill him."
The boy's heart stopped. What? That…that couldn't be right… Why? Hadn't Odin done everything they'd asked?
"I…I don't understand."
"He knows too much."
There was a blip as the man severed the communication. The boy stared at the now blank screen. It was true. It was what Odin always told him. Those who knew too much always had to die. And Odin always taught him to follow orders. It felt as if a hand was squeezing his heart and tears burned the back of his eyes. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this mission. He couldn't kill Odin. He couldn't kill someone he loved so much.
You killed Miss Celia, said the sensible side of him. And Odin would want you too. Odin would want you to follow orders.
The boy closed his eyes and shoved all the emotion to the back of his mind. There wasn't time for sadness. He just had to do his job. This was his first job he was doing entirely on his own. If he did it right…Odin might even be proud of him. The perverse thought made him chuckle. Only his life could be like this.
---
The containment cells weren't hard to find. For such a small place, he didn't think it would be. So far no one had noticed him… Either that or they hadn't cared. He would have thought that a kid wandering alone through a military installation would have gotten some attention. But the adults were too busy doing their own thing. But here was a problem. The boy peered around the corner again and sighed. Cadet Burke was standing on guard in front of the cells.
He couldn't shoot him. Not here. That would raise an alert. Burke didn't look like he'd be moving any time soon either. The boy ducked back around the corner and leaned against the wall. There had to be a way. A part of him didn't want to find it.
"Now what are you doing down here, eh?" said Burke, suddenly appearing beside him. The boy instinctively reached for his gun but forcefully stopped himself.
"I…I got lost."
The man smirked, like he didn't
believe him.
"You're here to see him aren't you? The rebel leader."
"No."
Burke grabbed his arm lightly and pulled him into the hall where the cells were. There was no point in resisting so the boy let himself be guided. The man stopped in front of a green metal door and keyed some numbers into the pad beside it.
"The security camera has been disabled. Don't take too long though," Burke said, pushing the door open. So he was part of the rebellion. Wasn't he?
"Go on, kid! They're going to get suspicious before too long!" The Cadet gave him a shove toward the door. The boy decided to trust him. And anyway, even if he didn't, he wasn't going to get another opportunity like this.
The tiny cell only had one light on the ceiling, casting the room in gloomy shadows. Odin was sitting against the far wall. For a man who was about to die he seemed relaxed. Maybe…he didn't know. But no…that couldn't be. Odin would know. Odin wasn't stupid.
"Nice to see you," the blond said with a wry grin. "You did what I said?"
"Yes."
"And how do they plan on getting me out of here?"
"They don't," the boy said,
reaching into his pocket. Odin actually looked surprised. The expression was
soon gone however and was replaced by stone. Nothing was on his face. Not
sadness, or anger, or anything. It was strange. There was no time to wonder
though. Just to act.
"I have to kill you." The boy pointed the gun at his mentor, aiming for the forehead. Odin would be dead before he even knew it.
"And you don't even care do you?" Odin's voice was cold. Ice cold. It stung and ripped a bleeding line down his heart. But he would cry later. He would mourn later. Right now, there was only one thing to do. The boy rested his finger against the trigger.
----
Notes: AAAH! Sorry this took sooo long. ^^: I've been having a lot of trouble with these chapters lately. The next one should be sooner… I hope.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing… If I did there would definitely be a scene in there with Quatre and Trowa snogging. *3X4 Forever!*
Night~Mare