~AC 197, March 8th, L4 - B289, Fatimah Psychiatric Clinic, 7:53am~
Elisabeth rubbed her eyes tiredly as she put her coffee mug down on her desk. She had received Carter's last report on Quatre's condition. Not much progress, the boy was still asleep most of the time, although being in a familiar place with people he knew seemed to affect him quite positively. She was really glad that this weight at least had been taken off her shoulders.
She smiled dryly as she remembered the way Agent Catalonia had briefed her before they had gone back to L4 – A001. The blond girl – hard as she tried, Elisabeth could not call her anything but a 'girl', she was not even eighteen yet after all – had given her a bunch of electronic machines that she had wired to her computer and phone. She had then instructed the doctor to keep the spy in her computer on at all times, and to push a special button on her phone to activate the recording and locating functions for each call. At first, Elisabeth had not seen the point, but Agent Catalonia had been adamant about it.
"We're being watched," she had said. "Our enemies will soon be informed that Quatre has been moved. And they probably expected his discovery to be far more public. They needed him to be found exactly here. There's a lot of money and power at stake here, Dr. Hewley. These people would do anything for it. They would even go as far as trying to make you say things you shouldn't. You have to be extremely careful."
Elisabeth had taken the warnings seriously. She was head of a very respectable clinic, and the mere fact that Quatre had been a patient entitled him to the institution's protection. Not to mention that revealing any information to a stranger would have been a break of patient-doctor confidentiality and could very well make her lose her job. Moira had been briefed by the Preventer agent too, and sent on a vacation with some extra money that she had gratefully accepted. She had still expressed wishes for Quatre's recovery as Elisabeth sent her on her way, and the psychiatrist was glad that some of her staff did show some sense of responsibility. But this departure meant that she was now alone to bear the brunt of anything the people behind this would do, or try to do.
She was so caught up in imagining the ways to outsmart the imaginary mastermind behind the plot that she almost jumped out of her skin when her phone rang. She stared at it for a second, blinking, then pushed the required button before picking up.
"Dr Hewley."
"Good morning, Doctor, I am terribly sorry to disturb you at this ungodly hour, this is Mrs. Winner here."
Elisabeth almost burst out laughing at the ridicule of the situation. First, because this was absolutely not Iria Winner's voice. It sounded far too young and childish. Second, because anyone could try and usurp that name, given that it had already been done on the medical file. She managed to remain in control though. Winner was quite a common name, and it could be anyone. But still, she had a gnawing suspicion that she was on to something, and something big.
"How can I help you?" she asked in a polite tone.
"I am very worried… It is… well, it is difficult to say, but I have heard rumors that my younger brother has been hospitalized in your institution."
Elisabeth rolled her eyes, almost glad that her phone wasn't a vidphone. She had been right about being on to something big. She had been wrong to assume she would need to outsmart them.
'They would have to be smart in the first place for me to do that,' she thought, irritated. 'It's almost insulting.'
"I am sorry, but I am not quite sure what you expect of me, Mrs. … Winner."
She made sure to say it a bit sarcastically, underlining the fact that she had understood that something was up with the person on the line… who apparently did not take the hint at all.
"Well, is it true? Is he really here?"
"You will easily understand that I am not allowed to give out personal information of that kind over a phone line, Mrs. Winner. And anyway, the public is not allowed access to the clinic's archives. If you want to get any information on a patient, you will have to come in person and to confirm your identity and your right to know about that patient."
"I know he's here! He must be! I was told…"
"What you were told doesn't matter in this situation, Mrs. Winner. This is procedure. Not respecting it would put me in violation of the Medical Code of Ethics. But, I think I can help you if you are looking for someone wearing your surname…"
"Yes!"
Elisabeth smiled wolfishly to herself.
"I have absolutely no patient going by that name in my institution's care. It seems the person who gave you information was misguided," she said, hiding the glee in her voice.
She could almost feel the hate and anger pouring from the phone as the childish voice darkened.
"But it's not possible!"
"I am afraid it's the truth," Elisabeth said very honestly since, officially at least, Quatre wasn't her patient, and never had been to begin with.
"It can't…"
There was silence at the other end of the line, then the voice came back, sounding subdued and strangely submissive.
"I see… I'm sorry to have disturbed you… Good Bye."
Elisabeth stared at the receiver for a minute, then put it down. This had been strange. Someone posing as a member of family had tried to get her to say that Quatre was or had been here. But they had been quite sloppy about it. She was beginning to think that whoever had organized this had been far less careful than they should have. And that voice… something made her shiver in that voice. Both childish and cruel. Cold.
She jumped again as her computer emitted a strange beep and the device Agent Catalonia had plugged to it came to life. Apparently, someone was now trying to hack into her computer, and was managing it too. Even if she was mad about that violation of her property, Elisabeth couldn't help smiling again. They wouldn't find anything in there either. The blue-eyed young man had made sure that no trace of Quatre at all remained in the system, and had taken everything away with him. Dr. Carter had taken his file with him too. No physical or electronic evidence remained that Quatre had ever set foot here. The only ones who knew about it were the few members of staff that had been in contact with him.
Dr. Hewley took the receiver again and dialed a number. She only had to wait for a few seconds before a feminine voice asked who she wanted to talk to.
"Agent Catalonia, please. This is urgent."
~Same time, somewhere in the L4 cluster~
Neelah pouted and threw the wireless phone at the nearest wall.
"Meanie!" she shouted at it. "Meanie! Meanie! Meanie!"
"Silence!" Selim yelled, but she didn't pay attention to him.
She got up, picked the wireless again and banged it on the wall repeatedly.
"You… have… no… right… to… talk… to … me… like… that!" she screamed, banging the wall in between words. "I did what was right! I did! They said I would get rewarded, they said I was right to do it!"
"Neelah, enough!" Selim boomed, and she stopped her actions immediately, turning to him with eyes full of tears and brandishing the phone as if it had personally insulted her.
"But, Selim, she wouldn't tell me! Why wouldn't she?! I asked nicely, didn't I? I just wanted to know if he was there, and she wouldn't tell me!"
The tears spilled, falling down her cheeks, but Selim ignored the tantrum and turned to the technician hacking the clinic's network. The man shot him a frightened look, then sighed and pushed his keyboard away.
"There's nothing," he said.
"Try again," Selim ordered crisply.
"It won't change a thing," the man said courageously. "If I didn't know better, I would swear there never was anything on him in that database. It's just a bit too clean for it not to have been wiped not long ago, but whoever did this, they're too good. I won't find anything."
"Damn it, I need that evidence! I should have had it weeks ago! But no one cares for family anymore, right? No one even cared enough to make sure the brat was alright in three fucking weeks, and now they're trying to cover it up and deprive me of what I've been working on for months?!"
The technician did his best to impersonate something insignificant like a slug, trying not to pay attention to the hysterical woman clinging to Selim in fits of rage and tears. Selim apparently wasn't in the mood to take it kindly, because he turned around and slapped her so hard that the phone escaped her grasp and she was sent into the wall, slumping down on the floor after she hit it. She didn't stop sobbing though, and she kept repeating "meanie!" under her breath. His jaw set, Selim gestured to a man in a white lab coat who had been busy on a laptop in another corner of the room and had ignored the whole scene so far. He looked up as his boss called for him.
"Calm her down!" Selim snapped, before storming out of the room.
The man got up and took a syringe out of his pocket. He knelt in front of Neelah and caught her right arm. She weakly tried to fight him, her eyes widening in fear at the sight of the needle.
"No!" she cried out. "No no no no no! Bad man! I don't want to!"
The technician turned away as the man in the white lab coat ignored Neelah's protests and plunged the needle deep in her arm.
~AC 197, March 8th, L4-A001, Winner Mansion, 8:47am~
Iria rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly as she put yet another pile of duly signed papers on a corner of the desk. She was now CEO of Winner Enterprises Inc., even if the thing was not official, and it didn't really matter that the corporation itself could function for a few weeks without its head, there were some urgent things that required approval from the one in charge. Iria had informed the offices in town and everywhere in the world that all urgent requests had to be sent to the mansion, and word had 'slipped' among employees that Quatre Winner was on an extended holiday and would not take any calls nor attend any meetings for an undetermined amount of time. It had surprised no one. After everything Quatre had done in the past year, holidays were long overdue. From the outside, it only looked like the young CEO was taking a well-deserved break and treating everything urgent from home, and nothing more.
Iria almost cursed when her vidphone began to flash the 'incoming call' sign. She had come to hate that sign in only a few days, and she couldn't understand how Quatre had managed to fulfill all of his duties with the infernal rhythm that the corporation imposed on its CEO. She had received more calls in the past forty-eight hours than in the three years she had been a doctor in a mining satellite's medical facility.
Sighing, she picked up. Bizarrely, the screen did not display the caller's image, indicating that either they didn't have a vidphone or that they didn't wish to be seen. Iria wondered if the person calling knew that every conversation made on that phone were recorded and located, and if they had an ulterior motive in hiding themselves.
'And maybe I am becoming paranoid,' she thought dryly. 'Too much has happened, and I am unbalanced, I see evil everywhere.'
"Iria Winner," she said out loud in the receiver.
"Iria? Is it you?" a childish voice answered, sounding a bit afraid.
Iria frowned. She knew that voice, she was sure of it.
"Yes. May I ask who is calling? Since you didn't turn the visuals on…"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not on a vidphone. It's Neelah."
Iria immediately remembered a young girl with the blond hair and blue eyes that were the distinctive traits of the Winner children. Neelah was only five of six years older than Quatre, and a good twenty years younger than Iria. She had been quite small when Quatre had been born, and Iria remembered that she had been one of the girls who had not been very happy to be told they now had a little brother and Mommy was not here anymore. But then, as far as she could remember, Neelah had always been special … like she never really was in the same room as her body.
Yet deep inside, Iria was glad, because Neelah had been one of the sisters she had been unable to reach.
"Neelah! It's good to hear from you. I tried to contact you but I couldn't get in touch. How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine!"
Iria frowned again. She doubted that was true. There was a slightly hysterical note in Neelah's voice. The eldest Winner knew that if she had had the time to take care of all her siblings, she probably would have taken Neelah to see a therapist, but she doubted her father had even bothered. He was rarely home with his children, and Neelah would not have been the kind to complain. She simply adored her father. Iria herself had not seen Neelah ever since just before the girl's wedding, which had not been approved by their father. She couldn't remember the name of her husband.
She was about to ask some more questions, but Neelah's childish voice cut in.
"Iria, I'm so glad to have you on the phone, but… I'm worried, I heard some terrible stuff around, and I don't know… I don't know what to believe!"
"What did you hear, Neelah?" Iria asked, suddenly tense.
"They… they were saying that Quatre… that Quatre was crazy and he had to be hospitalized in some kind of institution… they were saying that he had been sent to a clinic and no one was allowed to know yet… Iria, what is going on?"
"Who told you that, Neelah?" Iria asked harshly.
"I wasn't told, I just… I overheard someone speaking, I don't know who it was!"
Iria was thinking fast, her fingers drumming on her desk. Something here did not add up, and she didn't like it. The only people who could have spread that kind of information would be the people who were behind all this. What if Neelah had stepped into something she was not prepared to face?
"Iria?" Neelah's voice asked anxiously. "Iria, are you still here?"
Iria sighed. She wouldn't tell anything. The less Neelah knew the better. She was the kind to just spill anything she would hear to anyone, without thinking about consequences. And if what Iria suspected was right and Neelah had somehow been in recent contact with the kidnappers, then maybe she was in danger too.
"I'm still here," she finally said. "Don't listen to what people say, Neelah. Quatre is not in an institution. He's at home, and resting. His doctor told him to take a break before he would burn out completely. He's just taking a holiday."
"Oh."
Iria frowned again. Was it just her imagination or did Neelah sound disappointed?
"Are you sure?"
Iria blinked. Now that was not her imagination. Neelah sounded like she was pouting and about to burst into tears… like Iria had announced some very bad news to her, like she had not answered what she was supposed to. And Iria knew only too well what Neelah could be like when she threw a tantrum. The problem here was that she couldn't grasp the reason why Neelah would be upset that Quatre was okay if she had called because she was worried, as she claimed.
"I am sure, Neelah. I spoke to him just last night, and he's been at home for a few weeks, in fact. I don't know what those people you heard were talking about, but you must have made a mistake. But anyway, it's really nice of you to call and ask for him. I mean, I was under the impression that you two did not get along that well."
"I was scared…" Neelah said, but she decidedly sounded unhappy. "And… he came to visit Nadya and… and Safiah too, and…"
"And you wanted him to come and see you, and you thought he had forgotten?" Iria tried.
"Yes!" Neelah exclaimed, and now she sounded relieved.
'Almost as if she were too happy of the escape I've just given her. Something is not right. I don't know what, but something is not right at all, and I daren't say anything on the phone like that.'
"Don't worry, Neelah. I'm sure it's only because he's been busy that Quatre hasn't come to visit you yet. He wanted to meet all of us, and I know he was planning a family reunion soon. I'll have him call you as soon as possible. How is that?"
"Great!" and the voice was childish again in full force. "Thank you, Iria. I have to go. Bye!"
Iria stared at her phone for a second, surprised by the abrupt parting words. She hung up and began to think. She was lost in thought when Wufei appeared in the doorway and knocked on the door softly.
"Wufei! How is Quatre? Did anything…"
"Still sleeping," Wufei answered. "I left Shannon with him. I had to take an urgent call. Agent Catalonia just reported that someone called Dr. Hewley to ask about Quatre. The computer network of the clinic was then hacked and searched. Dr. Hewley doesn't know who the caller was. They only identified themselves as a 'Mrs. Winner'."
"This is weird… I just received a strange call too. I don't know if it's linked but…"
Wufei seemed to be thinking for a moment, then went to close the door and slid into the chair in front of the desk.
"Tell me about it."
Twenty minutes later, Wufei had decided to call Dorothy back while Iria informed Sally of the situation. The kidnappers were apparently trying to get information on Quatre's condition while trying to get word out that he had been in a special institution and that his sanity and capacity to remain CEO was in doubt. So far they had failed on both counts, and Wufei was sure that they would think about another attack soon.
Then, the first reporter called. Asking lots of questions, too precise questions. And there was absolutely no doubt now that their enemies were trying with all of their might to put their plan back on tracks, because no one else could have given that many details about what had happened to Quatre. The reporter even mentioned having called the clinic. He had been quite harshly rebuffed by Dr. Hewley, who had given him a lecture about patient-doctor confidentiality. He was not happy, and he wanted answers. Fortunately for Wufei, Iria was just as stubborn as her little brother, if not more, and that was saying something. Not to mention that she was also fiercely protective of her family and that she had quite a few reasons not to like reporters herself.
"No, I will not let you speak with my brother!" she repeated for the fourth time. "He is resting, and he isn't answering any questions anyway."
"But can you confirm that Mr. Winner was hospitalized at the Fatimah Clinic until about two days ago?" the reporter insisted, apparently unaware of the threat to his life that began to glitter in Iria's eyes.
"No."
"No what?"
"No, I cannot confirm that. I won't answer any more questions. If you wish to ask anything, please see our PR department. That's what they're here for."
"Mrs. Winn…"
Iria hung up abruptly, and glared at her phone. Wufei frowned worriedly.
"They warned the press," he said softly.
"I can't believe it," the older woman hissed. "Who would go as far as that for money? Who can do that and still call themselves human beings? What are we going to do now?"
Wufei's expression cleared again, and he smiled a bit.
"Nothing. Leave them to Dorothy. By the time she's done with them, they will believe whatever we tell them."
"Aren't you bothered by the fact that we have to lie to a lot of people about what happened?" Iria asked, suddenly curious.
Wufei shrugged as he made his way to the door.
"My life hasn't been much more than a lie until recently, so I think I can live with it quite well. I'll be with Quatre if anyone is looking for me. And I'll warn Agent Catalonia that she might be receiving some calls soon."
"You do that. Any news from Heero and Duo?"
Wufei stopped, facing the door.
"They're on their way back. You should tell Sally to be ready. I think something happened there."
"What?"
"I don't know. Maxwell didn't tell me. But what he did tell me was that he wouldn't let Yuy pilot on the way back. So I think something's wrong."
~AC 197, March 8th, L3-B347, Intercolonial Trade Summit, 6:54pm [L4 time : 11:24am]~
To say that Agent Catalonia was on her guard and ready to chew out reporters by the time the man whom she was forced to call her superior for the time being had called her back would have been an understatement.
"They are waiting for us," she said, turning to Relena. "Are you ready?"
Relena nodded, but she grimaced at the same time. She was probably going to be asked questions about Quatre, and she was going to have to lie in front of cameras. Lying was a thing she didn't like, but she had soon discovered that it was necessary in the political arena. You simply couldn't win if you only told the truth. Under Dorothy's supervision, and thanks to her own education which had accustomed her to send out compliments she didn't mean with a smile, she had become quite the expert at dispensing half-truths and bits of lies without flinching. But this time, it was different. And Wufei had been very clear. They had to support the official version of 'Tired CEO Taking Well-Deserved Break', and from the expression on Dorothy's face, that would be what the reporters would be getting, along with a good long tirade about the inelegance of trying to get dirt out of someone's private life.
"God, I hate that," Relena mumbled.
Dorothy smiled. After two years in Relena's company, she couldn't help but be amazed at how the girl had managed to retain her integrity and idealism while doing the work of several grown-ups and managing to fight off experienced politicians. She had become one of the President's most important advisers in no time. She usually remained sweet and polite with everyone, but Dorothy had seen enough of Relena biting people's heads off, including hers during the war, all in that sweet and polite manner of hers, to be fooled. Relena would keep her head straight, smile at the cameras, say something harsh and leave Dorothy to handle the rest. That was what they had decided.
"Do you really think they already know?" Relena asked with a wry smile.
"Agent Chang seemed to be pretty sure about it, and since this summit is one of the most important this year, there will be international TV crews outside. Everyone knows that Quatre is your friend."
"Yes, well, if I pay attention to what all the tabloids say about us two, he and I have been married since we were children. I really wonder how they managed to make those wedding pictures anyway. I'm sure Trowa would skin me alive if he knew."
Dorothy smirked.
"Then maybe I should make sure that he gets informed…"
"Dorothy!"
"… But I think Agent Chang would be the one to do the skinning, most probably."
Relena blinked. Twice.
"What?"
"Just something I picked up looking and listening when I probably wasn't supposed to."
"You mean…"
Relena reddened suddenly and laughed.
"Oh my! That's so unfair!" she exclaimed. "And they would look so good together too!"
Dorothy raised an eyebrow, surprised. That was a side of Relena that she hadn't been aware of.
Flashes blinded them as soon as they got out of the building, framed by the security service. Each reporter was trying to get to Relena first to place his question, and as a result, none managed it.
"Please, quiet everyone!" Relena's voice rose over the noise. "I have about fifteen minutes to answer any question about today's meeting, so everyone should be satisfied. Mr. Donovan, maybe you can go first?" she added, pointing at a man in a blue suit.
"Minister Darlian, is it true that about a quarter of the colonies in the L2 cluster threatened to drop out of the Intercolonial Trade Alliance?"
"It was true as of this morning. We realized that those colonies were in fact too poor to truly benefit from the system that was implemented, and as a consequence the poverty level had risen dramatically. A survival plan has been started to help those colonies re-build their economy, and investors have been encouraged to look for work force there. These colonies are under special terms, but still a part of the Intercolonial Trade Alliance. The L2 representatives said they were satisfied with the decisions that have been made. Mrs. Irving?"
"Can you confirm that L1 representative Okinawa spoke against the new antitrust law that was passed by the ESUN recently?"
"Representative Okinawa did express some concerns about his cluster's dominant position in the field of electronics. However, he agreed that concurrence is what makes the market work, and that having only one producer in such a sensitive area is a risk that we cannot afford right now."
'Right, he agreed,' Dorothy thought. 'You shoved it down his throat, Miss Relena. Now is it me, or are they all trying not to ask the right questions?'
Dorothy's musings were interrupted when Malcom Twain, one of the most displeasing tabloid reporters in the whole ESUN, colonies included, suddenly came to the front. Relena smiled to him and allowed him a question.
"Minister Darlian, is it true that Quatre Raberba Winner was recently hospitalized in the Fatimah Psychiatric Clinic and could lose his chairmanship as a result?"
"Who told you that?" Relena asked.
"I can't reveal my sources," the journalist answered.
"Well, then, I can't answer the question."
"But you are Mr. Winner's friend, right?"
"That's true, I am."
"So you must know about that story, no?"
"I would know about a story if there was a story to be known, Mr. Twain, that's right. But as I am not aware of any ... story, I am afraid I will have to pass on that one."
Silence fell on the crowd as reporters began to look at each other, trying to understand exactly what Relena had meant with those words. She had not said nothing had happened nor confirmed that something was up. Dorothy couldn't help but being proud of her. Clearing her throat, the young minister brought attention to her again.
"Do any of you still have questions about the summit?"
No one volunteered.
"Good. Then you will allow me to take my leave, since my schedule is a bit busy. If you still have questions about those crazy rumors, however, Miss Catalonia will be delighted to answer them. Good day."
And she was escorted to the limousine, leaving Dorothy with the wolves.
~Same time, somewhere in the L4 cluster~
"Snobbish little bitch took great cares not to answer anything," Selim sneered at the screen that was broadcasting the latest news from the L3 Intercolonial Trade Summit. "She knows something."
"She knows something, she knows something," Neelah began to sing.
Then, she went up to the screen and banged her fist on it.
"Didn't say, she didn't. Why? Because she likes the bad boy, doesn't she? Doesn't know all the wrong he did, all the people he killed. No, she doesn't. But I do, and I got to punish the bad boy, I did!"
Selim sighed and jerked Neelah back from the TV screen. She fell just in front of the chair she had been sitting on and remained there staring at the screen and singing "Didn't say" under her breath. Selim turned to the man in the white lab coat and frowned.
"What did you give her? I just told you to calm her down!"
"That's what I did," the man answered, completely ignoring the threatening tone. "Your wife suffers from serious mental troubles, and secondary effects are to be expected since I have to use high doses to little effect. You should know, after all."
Selim huffed and turned away, eyes going back to the screen where a girl with very long blond hair and calculating eyes was now in front of the reporters.
"I am acting here as the main representative for the Winners' PR department," she was saying. "And I should add that those of you who are more interested in finding out if something happened in Mr. Winner's private life than in knowing if today's negotiations went well would do well never to try and contact Minister Dalian's press service again."
There was a tense pause, then some journalists seemed to find the courage to raise their hands, but the blond girl dismissed them.
"I will not answer questions, but give you a statement from the Winners which has been approved by Quatre Winner himself," she kept on, face perfectly straight.
"She must be lying," Selim grumbled. "He couldn't possibly have approved anything, not in the state he was in…"
"She won't say, she won't say," Neelah sang, fingers running through her own blond hair, staring with wide eyes at the TV. "Pretty lady won't say anything either. She is bad, really bad, should be punished too! Can I punish her, Selim?"
"Of course, pet," her husband answered distractedly, not even noticing the adoring glance she threw his way.
"Mr. Winner has worked for Preventer as well as for WEI this last year. He has not taken a break ever since he took his current position of CEO at WEI. His personal physician has recently diagnosed him with severe exhaustion, and has recommended house rest. Mr. Winner is actually obeying the doctor for once and resting at his home. There's no need to go make the siege of the Winner Mansion, because you will be sent back to me and I will say the same thing all over again. Any rumor concerning a possible hospitalization in a mental ward is a lie."
"Damn it, I know it's not! I put him there myself! Why don't you just go out and say it, you bitch!? Do you think you're gonna figure out what happened to him or who did it?! Let's get it over with, for God's sake!" Selim hissed at the TV.
"Miss Catalonia, why have you been chosen to be the Winners' spokesperson?" Malcom Twain was insisting on the screen.
"Because Mr. Winner doesn't deal with your kind, Mr. Twain. He actually enjoys the company of civilized people. As do I. So if you will excuse me, I suddenly have the urge to go somewhere where the air doesn't smell of all the dirt you try to dig out of people's lives."