Author's Note: The action continues. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing

Warning: slight language, death, violence

Running Out of Time

Just barely turning the corner, Duo and Quatre had to back up immediately as bullets were shot their way.

"Crap," Duo cursed. Waiting for a lull in the fire, he stuck his gun out and returned fire before pulling back as more bullets were shot at him.

"We don't have time for this," Quatre muttered as he looked about for a solution to their dilemma. Seeing an open hatchway close-by, he grabbed Duo's arm and pulled him into it, shutting it behind them.

"What the hell?" Duo swore as he leveled a look at the blond, which was ignored in favor of something else. It seemed they struck gold. Even though it wasn't a rocket, it was probably the next best thing, a cache of weapons and explosives, which was primarily grenades. Quatre looked up at the braided one with a raised eyebrow.

"Would this make up?"

Duo simply nodded as he and his lover dived into the cache before returning to the battlefield again. Attracting attention by firing a round, he let the terrorists shoot to their heart's content, allowing Quatre to activate a single grenade which he threw down the hallway. Swearing soon followed for a few seconds as the terrorists scrambled for cover. A few, however, weren't lucky enough and were caught in the following explosion.

No sooner had the sound of the explosion died down when the two ex-pilots took advantage of the cover they received from the resulting smoke, barreling down the hallway, shoot in front of them and to the sides. Neither paused as they passed dieing men, victims of the pilots' returning fire. They had just reached the end of the hallway when it was Quatre's turn to pull Duo back as yet another terrorist blocked their way.

However, this one was familiar. So old baldy was waiting for them huh? Now how were they going to get pass him? He was at least as big as Katsaris himself, if not bigger, he knew what he was doing, and from the looks of him, he looked like a man who could take a lot before falling down. All in all, he seemed to be a brute, only a brute with a brain. Damn it, they couldn't have this right now!

He felt Quatre lay his hand on his shoulder as he spoke, "Let me handle him, Duo. Find the other rockets, quickly."

Duo looked at Quatre stupefied. Did Quatre really intend on taking baldy on? He was about to protest but Quatre beat him to the punch.

"You're better at disabling the rockets," Quatre stated. "I'll try to buy you some time, okay? The quicker you get back, the quicker we can take this guy out. Now go!"

Nodding, respecting the Arabian's decision, he let Quatre get himself ready before leaping out of cover and firing at the bald man, Quatre doing the same. Baldy dove for cover himself and Duo took the opportunity to split, even though that was the last thing he wanted to do. He could only have faith that Quatre knew what he was doing.

Making himself go faster, Duo frantically searched for the next rocket.

---

Thurston emerged on a platform high up on the Siberia with a case in his hand that he started to open. Within it were pieces of a weapon that he pieced together until it formed a sniper rifle.

Making sure he had good sight of a good amount of the rockets, he settled the rifle and made himself comfortable, looking through the scope to better search for their guests.

He'd get the little pests, even if it was the last thing that he did.

Well, what did you know, there was one of them now. He didn't fire right away. Like the perfect predator, he waited until his prey was completely unmindful of his surroundings before he pulled the trigger. Less than a second later, his prey jerked and fell to the deck, dead long before he fell.

Smirking, Thurston discharged the used shell and readied another shot, waiting for the next fool to come out and play.

---

There, another rocket finished off. Neither of the two knew how they were finding these rockets so quickly but neither Wufei nor Trowa were complaining. The sooner they found all of them, the better. Who knew when the next one would be launched?

Currently, the two were back inside the interior of the Siberia, searching for a way to the upper levels where they were sure that the last rockets were located.

"Die you fuckers!"

It was that and that alone which saved both of their lives. They threw themselves into different rooms just as a barrage of bullets passed them, almost grazing both of them. Knowing that this wasn't the time for this, Trowa returned fired, creating a small lull in the shooting but not one long enough for either of them to escape.

They had only the option of staying put until the enemy was subdued

---

With a single minded purpose, Captain Taylor ran through the corridors of the Siberia's interior, eyes searching for any of the Preventers that had dared to mess with the General's plan. They were the only obstacle thus far that was preventing him from getting his hands on his ten million dollar payment.

They had to die.

His men were behind him, trying to keep up with him, searching for the Preventers as well in the hope that Taylor may have passed them. The Captain was particularly frightening when he was in this mood and they knew better than to get in his way. The only thing that would cure him of this behavior would be bloodshed and none of them were willing to let their blood be spilled.

Then Taylor got lucky. He had just passed the entrance to yet another corridor when he doubled backed and caught sight of his victims. Without further thought, he raised his gun at them and yelled out, "Die you fuckers!"

It was this and this alone that alerted them to Taylor's position and they scrambled to escape his fire. So deep in bloodlust, Taylor didn't berate himself over alerting the two rats. They were going to die anyway, so what did it matter?

---

The body hadn't moved since a few well-placed bullets had struck it. But it wasn't dead, not by a long shot. One of the hands clenched into a fist so tight that the fingernails had begun to pierce the skin and draw tiny trickles of blood.

Heero Yuy's Prussian blue eyes snapped open but the degree of sanity within was much less than when they had closed earlier. He had been caught off guard, he, the Perfect Soldier, had been struck from behind by his enemies. He cursed himself for allowing that to happen. It seemed as if his enemies would do anything to keep him away from his Duo. This attack only proved that.

He was real fortunate that the wounds weren't fatal. The best they could do was slow him down, hardly a hindrance. But he had still been surprised by the unexpected attack that he had played possum, waiting until his enemies drew close enough to him to where he could grasp hold of their pathetic necks and break them.

But his attacker hadn't gotten close enough and instead turned away, thus saving himself from Heero's retribution. No matter, he'd find the little gnat sooner or later and make him wish that he had let him break his neck.

Pushing himself up, he noticed that none of the terrorists were about, meaning they weren't keeping an eye out for him. Which meant that he could board the ship and find Duo? Yes, he had to be on that ship. They were his enemy after all and why would they try and keep him off of it unless his Duo was somewhere on board?

Nothing was going to keep him away, not this time. Duo would be his at long last!