Author's Note: Now to let things cool down for a bit. I will admit that the fire devil in the last chapter was over dramatized but such a thing like it does occur in nature, believe it or not. Look it up, Google it, go to Wikipedia, you'd be surprised what little things happen in this world if you pay attention. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.

Warning: language, Xavien's twisted P.O.V

In His Element

"Aw, they got away," Jason lamented even though he didn't particularly look sad about it.

Standing in the burnt remains of what used to be Boulder, Mobias stared across the path of destruction, watching the cloud of white steam far in the distance rise up towards the sky. Even though the boy couldn't literally see it, he wondered how the other boy standing next to him knew that their prey was still alive. That thing they had created should have been able to accomplish that objective without any problem whatsoever so what happened?

"Anymore bright ideas, Einstein?" he demanded spitefully.

However, Jason was not paying him any mind, preferring instead to continue to gaze out to the distance contemplatively, snatching the bottom of his chin in thought. "Maybe it's a good thing they did get away," he shrugged.

"A good thing?" Mobias repeated flabbergasted. "Are you high?!"

"We were ordered to bring them back alive," Jason said. "We couldn't have done that if they were dead, now could we?"

Mobias paled at that reminder. He had forgotten that they were suppose to bring the traitors back alive…

But now what? Already they had lost three of the others and Mobias himself had almost not made it out himself—wait a minute…

"Just where were you all this time?" he demanded, glaring at the shorter boy.

Sparing him a glance, Jason replied, "How do you mean? I've been here the whole time."

"That's just it!" Mobias barked at him. "I didn't see you fight at all while we were here! Did you chicken out or something? I'm right, ain't I? You're just a little chicken shit like Solo!"

Even though his uniform was partially damp, his hands were dry enough that he was able to summon his precious fire again. He was going to show this bastard just what he was made of…

The air around him swirled and soon it was beginning to get hard to breathe with each passing second. With a lack of oxygen, the flames in his hands died out and he clutched at his throat, feeling the signs of suffocation creeping up on him. That was when Jason took the initiative, stepped forward and socked the flame master on the right side of his face. The force of the blow sent Mobias out of the little whirlwind that had been depriving him of much needed air and onto the broken remnants of what used to be Main Street in Downtown Boulder.

His cheek throbbed with pain that was not even dulled as he gasped for air. Who knew this guy could hit so hard? A merciless foot planted itself onto his chest and pushed him back onto the broken street without remorse. Flashing green eyes glared down at him and the heel of Jason's boot dug into his ribcage.

"I was studying them, you fucking nitwit," Jason growled. "It's stupid to rush headfirst into a fight like you did; that's why you and the twins lost. I know how they fight now and the next time we meet, I'll fight and I will beat them, unlike you."

Jason increased the pressure his foot had on Mobias' chest, pushing the breath out of the breathless boy's body. Mobias squirmed under the appendage, fighting for each intake of air he could get.

Shoving off, Jason walked away from his prone comrade, taking out his handheld radio to contact base and request back up. It wouldn't due to get too cocky this early in the game and he was sure that the boss guy with the two colored eyes wouldn't mind if he asked for more help.

It was all for a good cause.

Meanwhile, as Mobias was finally able to get his breathing regulated again, he glared at Jason's back, images of how he could hurt the other running through his mind like a film reel. How dare he show him up, especially after the beating Solo gave him!

He'd show them, he'd show them all what he was capable of and he would start with Solo first. There would be no way that anyone could blame him if Jason were to be taken out in the next fight, after all, they had just lost three others.

---

Darkness truly was his element and he enjoyed basking in it whenever he found the need to be alone with his thoughts. There was just something about being alone in a pitch black room, the only light there coming from the screen on the wall across from him, display images that were of, right now, interest to him.

With a glass of bourbon on the rocks in one hand and the other hand pressed against the side of his face, Xavien studied the satellite images of what had once been an American town in the middle of the barren state of Arizona. There really wasn't much that could describe what he was looking at, just a large piece of charred land and devastation everywhere…

He couldn't help but feel a shiver of thrill tingle up his spine. It was surely a marvelous sight to behold, a work of art as it were. Too bad this was only collateral damage and not something he had actually planned. That would certainly give a whole new meaning to the images he saw.

Lounging back into the comfortable couch that he had in his private quarters, he took a drink of his beverage, letting the liquid sit in his mouth momentarily before swallowing it, enjoying the burning sensation that the alcohol gave him as it traveled down his throat. Ah, that was it. Crossing his legs, he called out the phrase "Image 1-29" and lo and behold, the image on the screen morphed into a new one, an image showing him another angle of what used to be Boulder, Arizona, smoke still rising from the ruins.

He made a mental note to have his men search for survivors. If any were at the appropriate age and of the appropriate gender, then they would be admitted into his research facilities where they would be…treated… If they weren't, well, they'd have to be eliminated then. No sense in keeping living witnesses now was there? He couldn't risk having some yokel blow the cover off of Project Maxwell, at least not yet anyway.

Taking in another sip of his drink, he closed his eyes, the images of the destroyed town playing against his eyelids. It was enough to get him into an aroused state but he wasn't too far into it where he had to take care of it immediately since he had an extraordinary amount of control over his body. Still, he would have to save those images for a later time when he wasn't in a business mindset…

A shrill buzzing sound alerted him to the fact that someone was just outside his rooms. "Enter," he announced, his eyes opening but not leaving the screen before him as the main entrance to his quarters opened. Light streaked out towards him, making his body barely visible to the hulk of a man whose body blocked most of the doorway. Xavien had no need to actually look at this man seeing as this person had been with him since before the beginning of the project and all signs pointed to him still being there after it was all over and done.

"Mr. Xavien," the deep voice of Malkov intoned. "We have just received a communication from the retrieval team."

"What of it?" he asked, not in the least bit concerned.

"10615 has requested back up," Malkov reported. "It says that 11085 and 12093 have not only eluded capture but have eliminated 12398, 12515, and 12516."

Xavien's mind attached faces to each subject number, mentally noting that their files needed to be closed as soon as their bodies were recovered and examined. "What of 12100?" he asked.

"It lives but is injured," Malkov answered obediently, waiting for his superior's instructions.

Drinking the last of his glass, he raised it up, silently ordering his underling to refill it, an action that Malkov immediately responded to by obeying the request. The large man took the glass from Xavien's hand and moved further into the dark room, the sounds of a liquid being poured reaching Xavien's ears. When his glass was placed back into his hand, he took another sip and began to swirl the drink, his wrist rotating gently so as to not spill the beverage.

What to do…that wasn't an easy one but Xavien wasn't one to shy away from hard decisions. Still, the first team had failed to accomplish their objective yet it was also important that he get 11085 and 12093 back, especially 11085. He had spent too long on that one to let it get away from him now.

Decisions, decisions, it seemed like his choices were limited if he went along with that train of thought, he supposed. Looked like he knew what to do now.

"It's a good thing we had that back up team ready," he said aloud, pausing to take a sip of his drink before continuing. "Brief them on what has occurred and send them to the last known coordinates of our escaped weapons."

"Yes Mr. Xavien," Malkov said.

"Make sure you emphasize that I want those weapons brought back to me alive," Xavien stated, his eyes removing their selves from the screen in front of him to focus on his behemoth of a lackey. "It is imperative that they're brought back in a living state. We still need to figure out what precisely went wrong with them before we do anything else. Project Maxwell has progressed too far to be undone by something as insignificant as this."

"Yes Mr. Xavien," Malkov said again, bowing his head slightly to signify that he understood his orders.

Xavien said nothing else, his eyes turning back to the large screen in front of him. Taking that as a dismissal, Malkov turned around and left his employer to his darkness, closing the door behind as it would be rude to leave it open.

As soon as the last stream of light was cut off, Xavien waited until his eyes had readjusted to the lightless room before taking another sip of his drink. It was hard trying to determine whether or not the failure of the first team was a good thing or a bad thing. It was good because it only proved how powerful and competent 11085 and 12093 were, a definite success that had come out of Project Maxwell. It also showed just how effective the other weapons were in terms of destruction. To actually have them employed in a war, ooh, it sent a shiver up his spine! However, there was the flip side. This also demonstrated some of the flaws with the remaining weapons, tarnishing the pristine veneer of Project Maxwell, definitely something to frown at.

Then again, perhaps it wasn't too bad, after all now that he could see some shortcomings, it was now possible to fix them. And if they were to find some solutions to other problems that had managed to pop up, so much the better. Heh, there was that amateur scientist within him speaking up again against the more practical, expert businessman that he was in real life.

He was going to have to deal with that side of himself one of these days but as for right now he'd indulge it. After all, this was a science experiment when it all came down to it; the military funding was just an added bonus. Speaking of the military, he was going to have to ring up the General about this unexpected altercation to the plan. Sure, the man wouldn't like it and he had been getting quite impatient lately but tough, he was just going to have to deal with this. He had more leverage over the General than the General had over him; he would have no choice but to do as he told him.

The thrill of having so much power over someone was intoxicating and not for the first time did Xavien consider making a bid for power using the fruits of Project Maxwell as his weapons. But in the end, he had to push that certain ambition away. It was much too early for those kinds of thoughts. Besides, he had yet to get to the second phase of the project. He had better things to do than to play the time consuming games of politics.

Uncrossing his legs and shifting his seating on the couch, he called out, "Image 1-04," the requested image replacing the previous to show yet another perspective of the destroyed town of Boulder. This one was his favorite one thus far and he found that he was slowly loosing his control over his body as it demanded satisfaction.

He was just going to have to take care of it now, wasn't he?