Playing Stupid

Chapter Six

The Squeeze-e-Cheeze Ambush

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"Avoid combat," Heero was saying, furiously flipping switches and punching in commands as Wing Zero made it through pre-flight, verniers kicking up a tornado of grass and leaves under the eight ton monstrosity.

"Agreed," Wu Fei answered over a side communications port.

To Heero's left, Heavy Arms lifted into the air in a blast of displaced grass and leaves, pelting the other two suits in a generous concoction of whatever was on the forest floor. A rather miffed sound from Wu Fei brought Shen Long into flight, soon followed by Wing Zero. Together, the three suits revved verniers and disappeared into the dusk sky just as a line of lights signaled the arrival of the enemy.

The lead most Leo suit lead a small pack of Mobile Dolls, autonomous suits programmed for combat without the need of a human pilot.

"Do we have orders to take the Gundam pilots dead or alive?" the lead Leo suit called back.

"Preferably alive," a random suit answered, the communications breaking into static for a moment. "But I'm sure an 'accident' or two can be explained away."

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Duo Maxwell tried his best to put order back to the pastel cardigan, green vest and pressed fitted pants Quatre's body was still wearing. He'd never worn anything so hideous in his life, but if he was to pull off a convincing Quatre Rabarba Winner, then he'd have to look the part.

Beside him as he settled into the couch, his body – Duo Maxwell's body – had been hefted onto the couch, still bound hand and foot, but poised so as he looked to be holding some random weapon. No one needed to know that said weapon was really a toilet plunger duct-taped to a fire extinguisher.

And no one would be able to notice the elaborate contraption of pots, pans and whatever was left in the cupboards hanging precariously over the front door; the distraction from the fire extinguisher would be enough to lure all in attendance into his recent clever prank.

Given the situation, Duo was actually a bit anxious. He'd been in OZ custody before, but had always been in his own body. And he'd never been allowed to basically throw an entire kitchen full of annoyances at anyone. He wasn't sure if he was getting excited for the prank or getting butterflies over the impending imprisonment.

Movement outside the curtain-less front window caused Duo to stiffen, his fingers curling tightly around a length of rope that, when pulled, would release the ambush. His heart beat loudly in his ears and he swore he was almost going deaf.

"You in the farmhouse; SURRENDER!" someone outside yelled. The front window shattered and a smoke bomb or seven was tossed in, just as expected. Duo donned a gas mask he had hidden in the endless, remote-swallowing depths of the dusty couch and waited patiently.

His skin crawled, letting him know that the smoke bomb was most likely a pepper bomb, intended to subdue him by making his nose, eyes, throat and lungs burn like the dickens, not to mention it tended to turn your skin bright red. Thank goodness for Quatre's thick, cashmere sweater and expensive wool pants, or he'd be howling.

Another smoke bomb and the front door was soon being hammered by some unseen force outside.

Duo managed a grin beneath the gas mask.

In a flurry of splintered wood, the front door blew open in time to make way for a handful of troops as they stormed in, guns trained on the masked figure on the couch.

And at just that moment, with the loss of the living room door, Duo's prank swung into motion.

The first few solders that came to a stop in the house had only a few seconds before a dozen or so frying pans, skillets and a cast iron grill pan rained concussion-causing mayhem from a cargo net tacked very loosely into the ceiling. The poor soul hit with the cast iron pan fell to the floor with quite a dent in his helmet, the remainder of the unfortunate few cursing from bumps and bruises, their helmets now pock-marked as if they had be caught in a freak hail storm.

Duo tried not to chuckle from behind his mask.

A random soldier picked himself off the floor and glared death to Duo, who promptly pointed to his bound and gagged body. "He did it." It wasn't a total lie: he was Duo Maxwell just as much as the other one was Duo Maxwell… or as much as… Duo confused himself, trying to figure out the logic behind it all.

The soldier turned his frown to the bound body and began forward. He was scarcely two steps into the house before his boot drug through a trip wire, releasing an amazing shower of whipped cream, cheese in a can and any other aerosol food products the American lunatic could dig up from the kitchen.

But the attack didn't stop there. As a few soldiers were slipping about through the messy goop, they sprung the next spring of traps, buckets of flour, Shake n Bake, Rice Crispies and coco powder raining onto the thoroughly gooped troops.

Duo couldn't help but chuckle as one officer tumbled onto his rear, a can of Squeeze-e-Cheeze exploding under his impact.

"Enough!"

From behind the leveled troops, a commander stumbled in, ducking a stray pot that sailed through the air. He noticed the toilet-plunger-and-fire-extinguisher weapon, leveling his gun a moment before he tripped on a fallen soldier, tripping the only trap that had not been sprung. The fire extinguisher held by Duo's bound body let off in a mad gush of pressure that coated the couch in a white foam and sent the toilet plunger rocketing across the room.

Said commander took the dirty plumbing device in the helmet, the toilet plunger suctioning in place before wobbling back and forth a few times, stuck to the commander's helmet.

Duo roared with laughter.

The room was silent, save for the hysterics of the blonde Gundam pilot in the room still wearing the gas mask. The commanding officer of the battalion stood, obviously miffed, his once pristine uniform dotted in stray whip cream. And, of course, the toilet plunger still sat wobbling where it was stuck firmly to the front of his helmet.

He was not impressed, a gentle dusting of flour raining down from his shoulders as he leveled a tazer and fired.

The last thought Duo had as his body convulsed and toppled to the floor was that Quatre was gonna have two new nipples once this mess was all over.

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"We're not just going to leave them, are we?" Surprisingly, Wu Fei was the one voicing concerns, the three Gundams having touched down in a remote area of the forests to wait.

"Of course not," Heero almost snapped. "We're out numbered, out gunned and at several other disadvantages."

"Never stopped us before," Trowa commented. "What's your plan?"

"Duo's no idiot." As simple as the phrase sounded, if there was one thing that Duo Maxwell was, it was resourceful. "He'll find a way out of OZ custody and we need to be there to pick them up when they make a break for it."

"Agreed." Heavy Arms powered down and settled into a stable crouch. "OZ won't risk starting another war by endangering any member of the Winner family, especially Quatre."

"So we wait. Track the battalion back to their base, wait for some sort of signal from Duo, and then we move in."

There was a chuckle from Trowa over the communications. "Any bets as to what the 'signal' is going to be?"

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To Be Continued