Picking up Barton's trail hadn't been too hard, even in the pouring rain which finally seemed to be letting up. Barton was moving slowly, sticking to the shadows and avoiding the heavily populated areas, giving Heero ample opportunity to catch up to him. He kept himself at a discreet distance as he watched the kid slink down a deserted alley. His lower gut ached from where Barton had kicked him, but he pushed through the pain. He was close to catching his quarry. Then he could go home, forget about this life and start a new one.
Barton led him to an old, dilapidated apartment building that would have been stylish about forty years prior. Now the doors were boarded up, the façade was crumbling and the lower windows had bars on them. A large sign declaring the building condemned was plastered over the boards blocking the front entrance. Heero watched from across the street as Barton pried the board away from the entrance just enough to allow his slim form to slip through the crack.
Heero stepped out of the shadows, ready to cross the street and follow Barton into the building, when a pair of voices came out of the dark. Heero cursed silently, stepping back out of the light, and watched warily as two men came into view, stopping in front of the boarded-up building.
The taller one had long dirty blond hair that hung to his shoulders. He wore a long, designer coat that made him stick out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood. The other was shorter, but Heero could tell he was the muscle of the pair. He had a darker complexion, and the way he moved, Heero could tell he was aware of everything around him.
Heero felt a twinge of irritation. What were those two morons doing? The blond was smoking a cigarette, leaning against the building, while the other stalked up and down the sidewalk, in front of the boarded entrance, as if waiting for something... or someone...
The board moved. The two men instantly became alert, the tall one throwing his cigarette away. Heero watched as Barton shimmied out from behind the boards and into the waiting arms of the shorter man.
Heero again had to give the kid credit. Barton fought like a wild animal, giving the blond a the beginning of a shiner before the shorter of the two men pinned Barton's arms behind him.
Barton kicked out at the blond, who avoided the blow with ease, laughing at the kid as he backhanded him. Heero fought down the urge to help Barton. He could see the tell-tale bulge of a gun under the blond's coat, and he himself was armed with little more than a hunting knife, as he had promised Relena long ago never to use a firearm again. He sometimes regretted that promise, but it was easier to avoid a killing blow with a knife than with a gun.
Barton struggled against his captor, kicking and screaming at the two men.
"You son of a bitch! Where is she?" he screamed at the blond, still trying to get out of the other's grasp.
The blond laughed and said something Heero couldn't quite make out. He took a chance that the two men's attention was adequately focused on Barton before he crept from his hiding spot, moving closer, crouching down behind a cluster of trash cans, opposite the street but within hearing range.
"Tell me where she is, you sick fucks!" Barton screamed again, trying desperately to get at the blond.
"You know where she is, Duo. My father is tired of waiting. Either you pay him what you owe now, or come and work for him. Do neither and she'll take your place."
Barton let out a howl of rage, managing to free one arm for a moment, long enough to give the blond a bloody lip before the darker man regained control, throwing the kid to the ground. Barton hit the pavement – hard. The blond kicked at the dazed figure, then spat blood at him.
"You little shit. I don't know what my father sees in you. You have until tomorrow night. Bring the money or bring your scrawny ass. I don't care which." He gestured to his partner and left Barton lying on the sidewalk.
The kid didn't move, though Heero could tell he was conscious. He waited a few moments, to make sure the goons didn't double back, before he crossed the street to the prone form on the ground.
Barton had his hands wrapped around his stomach. Heero found it hard to sympathize. He knelt down next to the kid and shook him. "Do you require medical attention?"
Barton groaned, his eyes still closed. He shook his head. "I'll be okay in a minute," he said, his voice hoarse.
Heero nodded, taking out his handcuffs. He'd be more careful this time, alert and aware of the kid's every move. He reached down, took one of Barton's wrists and snapped the cuff around it.
The kid's eyes flew open. He yanked at his arm, but Heero held firm. "You!"
"Me," Heero replied, reaching for the other hand.
Barton slapped at him. "God dammit, I don't have time for this!" he cried.
"Tough," Heero said, grabbing the kid's other hand and snapping the cuff around the wrist, making sure they were secure, this time in front of his body. He stood, hauling the kid off the pavement.
"You don't understand!" Barton insisted, trying to pull away. "I"ve got something I gotta go do. It's important! A matter of life or death!"
"That's what they all say," Heero said, already bored with the kid's theatrics.
"No! Please!" He stopped struggling.
Heero looked at him in surprise. There was hidden desperation in the kid's voice.
"Please," Barton pleaded, tugging at his cuffed hands. "There's a girl. She's in trouble. I have to help her."
Heero almost hesitated. Something in the kid's voice made him want to listen. But his practical side pushed that little voice away. He prodded Barton down the street. "It's no longer your concern," he said, holding the kid tightly by the wrists. He wasn't going to get out of them this time.
The next moment, Heero found himself trying to hold onto a miniature whirlwind as the kid rushed him, trying to hit at him with his bound hands and using his feet to land a disabling blow. "Fuck you, asshole!" the kid screamed, his braid whipping around to slap Heero in the face as he tried to twist out of the bounty hunter's grip.
Heero had had enough. He grabbed hold of the kid's hair, twisting the rope-like length around his fist in order to jerk Barton's head back. The kid let out a strangled scream before Heero punched him in the face. The violent struggles stopped immediately as Barton slumped in his arms, unconscious. Heero sighed and shifted the kid's body so he could dig out the disposable cell phone he'd bought on his first day on L2. He admired the kid's spirit, but damned if he wasn't a pain in the ass.
Twenty minutes and one phone call later, Heero tumbled the kid's unresponsive body into the back seat of a cab. He slipped the driver a fifty up front and gave him the excuse he was seeing a drunk friend home. The cabbie glanced at the cuffs around the kids wrists and shrugged, pocketing the money. "I don't care how you get your kicks," the man said, shifting into gear as Heero closed the door. "Just don't let him puke in the backseat."
Heero frowned at the back of the cabbie's head as they drove toward his hotel. It bothered him that the man thought this was some kind of sexual game. Unconscious, Barton looked even younger than his twenty-one years. Much too young for Heero, who was fast approaching thirty and who, without much sleep in the past few days, looked even older. He peered out of the cab window into the dark, wet streets, wondering again just how anybody could live here. L2 was not a hospitable place, especially for kids like Barton. What was he doing in the slums? Where was Khushrenada's money?
He turned back to study his prisoner. This whole situation didn't seem logical. Barton was much too young to have garnered as much responsibility in Khushrenada's empire as he'd been led to believe, no matter what his talents may have been. Unless he was an extremely glib actor with a genius IQ, it took time to work one's way up in a company. Heero hadn't seen any evidence of either trait. That Barton was bright, he had no doubt. But he did not have the mannerisms of a young executive. And he was living on the streets of L2.
The possibility that Barton had once been not an employee but a lover of Khushrenada's again crossed Heero's mind. A lover might have access to private areas where personal information would be kept. Barton may have wormed his way into Khushrenada's bed, tracking the man's routine, using his personal computer, learning his secrets. Or perhaps he had been the wife's lover. It was more common than people thought – the wife of a powerful man, ignored for the most part except when needed at social functions – taking on a younger lover. He would still have access to Khushrenada's private rooms. Perhaps that's how Barton came into possession of Leia Khushrenada's cross. He wasn't sure when the woman had passed away. Maybe that was the kid's story.
But where was the money? Had he stolen it for someone else and been double crossed? Had he stashed somewhere inaccessible? There was more going on than what he had been told. It was not his place to ask questions, but this whole situation was making him uneasy.
The cab pulled up to Heero's hotel. Heero paid the man and added an generous tip just to be safe. The cabbie grunted and muttered, "Right, never saw you," before pulling away and speeding off into the night. Supporting Barton's limp body with one arm, he managed to shrug out of his jacket. He arranged the jacket over Barton's bound hands, then picked him up, cradling the kid in his arms.
He used the drunk excuse again to the bored night clerk on duty as he entered what passes as the lobby. The clerk simply shrugged and said, "Whatever," before handing over Heero's key and going back to his magazine.
The kid looked slight, but he was a mass of muscle, Heero found out as he trudged up the two flights of stairs to his room. He managed to get the door open without much difficulty despite the burden in his arms. Kicking the door closed behind him, he went straight to the bed, laying the kid down as gently as possible. He turned on the bedside lamp and checked the kid's pupils, noting with satisfaction they were dilating properly, though he'd have a shiner in the morning. He'd hit the kid hard, but hadn't wanted to cause damage. He seemed to be asleep. Heero noted the dark circles under his eyes and wondered how long it had been since the kid had gotten a decent night's sleep.
He tossed his jacket aside and stretched Barton's arms over his head to thread the cuffs through the bars of the headboard. After making sure the kid was as comfortable as he could be, he went around the room, quickly packing up his things and shoving them in his duffel. With that accomplished all that was left to do was wait until morning when he could catch the next shuttle back to Earth to reap the biggest payment of his life.
With the kid on the bed, there was only the questionable floor or a rickety old chair for him to rest in. He chose the chair. Moving it in front of the door, he settled down for a restless night.
He wasn't sure when he dozed off or how long he'd been asleep. But a slight noise from the direction of the bed jerked him out of a hazy dream. He froze, seeing Barton standing at the window, cuffs gone again, trying to make an escape. Fortunately for Heero, he'd checked the windows earlier and knew they couldn't be opened.
He launched himself out of the chair. Barton turned, throwing himself to the side. Heero caught him around the waist and toppled both of them to the floor. Barton bucked, struggling in Heero's grip. Heero managed to flip the kid over on his back and, straddling his waist, he pinned Barton's wrists to the floor.
"No! Let me go! I have to get to her!" Barton's face was twisted in fury, muscles straining as he tried to break Heero's grasp.
"She's not your concern anymore," Heero reiterated, feeling aggravated that the kid had managed to get out of the handcuffs again.
The fight suddenly went out of the kid. He slumped against the floor, breathing in raggedly. Heero let his grip loosen just a little. He stared at the kid underneath him, puzzled again at the desperate look on Barton's face.
"Please," the kid whispered, looking at him imploringly. "They'll hurt her. I owe Quinze money. I have to pay him – or agree to work it off – or they'll make her pay my debt for me in one of his… whore houses."
Heero wrinkled his nose in disgust. He knew forced prostitution was rampant on some of the poorer colonies, L2 most especially. The thought of forcing anyone into that kind of life sickened him. He felt for this faceless girl – and for her boyfriend, still silently begging him with wide, scared eyes – but he had his own job to do.
"Your girlfriend will just have to take care of herself. We're leaving for Earth as soon as the day cycle begins."
The young man shook his head. "She's not my girlfriend. Please…" His voice choked on the word, as if he hadn't had to say it much in his life.
Heero growled. "I told you, she's not…"
"She's only eight years old."
Heero froze. He searched Barton's face for signs of deception. When he didn't find any, he let go of the kid's wrists, sitting back on his heels. "What?"
Barton pushed himself up on his elbows. Heero could see him trembling slightly. "I… I'm usually careful about where we hole up, but Alex – he's Quinze's son – must have found out." He took a deep, ragged breath. "Vy is a street kid. I found her digging through garbage a few months ago looking for something to eat. I took her in. The kids, especially the little girls, don't last long unattended out there." He reached up and took a hold of Heero's shirt. "Please… I'll do whatever you want. I'll go with you without a fight, just please, let me go so I can get her out of there. She doesn't deserve to pay for my stupid mistakes."
Heero looked at the hand clutching his shirt for a moment before turning his gaze back to the kid. He didn't think Barton was lying. And what he'd heard of the exchange between him and the blond seemed to match his story.
Somewhere out there was a little girl in trouble. A child, whose only crime had been to have the misfortune of being taken in by a thief. Barton didn't seem the type to prey on little girls himself, so what he'd done, taking her in, could be considered admirable.
And yet, was it his problem that she was out there? About to suffer a fate almost worse than death? Bound to a life of slavery and abuse at the hands of sick bastards who got off on torturing the innocent?
A vision swam before his eyes, of another little girl with blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes, following him so trustingly until he'd betrayed that trust and destroyed her life. He'd been the one to cause the innocence in her eyes to fade. He'd vowed to never know that feeling again. He swallowed hard and looked back at Barton.
He was torn. He could end this life he'd made for himself by bringing Barton back to Earth and delivering him to Khushrenada. But would it be a life worth living if he knew he'd abandoned another little girl to a hellish existence?
"If I help you," he said slowly, catching one Barton's wrists and squeezing it tightly, "you'll come with me back to Earth, no fuss, no fight?"
He could hear the kid swallow loudly, his eyes widening at the offer of Heero's help, before he nodded. "Just help me save her, and I'll go with you."
Heero sighed. Double or nothing. He was beginning to hate those odds. He let go of Barton's wrist and stood up, offering the kid a hand up. "All right. But we do this my way, understand? And if you try to get away, I promise you I will find you and I promise it won't be pleasant when I do. We get her out, then you come with me. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes," the kid said, taking his hand and letting Heero pull him up off the floor.
"All right." He moved to the bed to switch on another lamp. "Now, first thing. Tell me everything you know about this guy Quinze and his son."