Disclaimer: I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.

Warnings: Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, mild adult themes, and mild lime/lemon.

A/N: Thanks for all the love lately! Only one more chapter to go after this one, as bitter-sweet as that is. Leave a review, I always appreciate the feedback!

Maxwell

Chapter 27: Where The Air Makes You Choke

Walk On The Ocean - Toad and the Wet Sprocket

They'd probably seen Heero and Wufei escaping through the gate, and even if they hadn't, he'd managed to set the whole campus into even more of a frenzy. If they thought the ex-pilots had escaped, they would panic, just as he'd predicted. And if they found out he was still inside, they'd still panic. Or at least he sure as fuck hoped they would. Either way it was another efficient distraction.

Duo waited until there were no signs of headlamps and then moved to the helicopter's rear door. It was unlocked and he let out a silent sigh of relief because really, as good as he was, he wasn't sure he'd have been too adept at breaking into a high-tech helicopter; not as if he'd had much opportunity to practice.

As he climbed into the aircraft he tried unsuccessfully not to think about Heero and Wufei. About a minute ago they would have realized he was not right behind them, they would have seen the gate screeching closed, and heard the jeeps gunning straight for them and would have had to make a decision.

He knew what Preventer protocol would have Wufei do and he knew what Heero's wartime training would have from him as well. But he also knew there would be a second's hesitation from both men before they made the decision Duo was counting on from them. They'd be pissed of course- but that was unavoidable. But at least they wouldn't be free-falling from a fucking helicopter anytime soon.

The door slid open and Duo slipped in, shutting it as quietly as he could. After a few seconds there was no sound of alarm and so he figured at least he'd succeeded finding himself the perfect hiding spot. That he did have quite a bit of practice in.

Duo looked at his new surroundings then. It was larger than the inside of a van, but had the same style of layout. There were three rows of seats, two in the front for pilot and co-pilot, two in the middle, and two at the back- but the middle row was empty where the seats would have fit. More room for cargo, he thought, stomach tightening for only one dangerous second.

Behind the rearmost seats was a small area perhaps for luggage, just large enough for his thin body to crawl into. If he sat sideways with his legs stretched out he just fit, though it was admittedly a bit claustrophobic. While he waited Duo's fingers found his Glock- no bullets used thus far- and the flick knife at his ankle. Well, he'd been less prepared in worse scenarios before, so really this probably wasn't so bad. Shit, probably.

He figured the state of panic wouldn't last too much longer and Quinze or Rolland or whoever would be doling out orders to shut everything down, get rid of evidence, and generally get the fuck out. That also meant- in Duo's hopeful mind- that this helicopter would be coming into use very soon. Oh, how they'd fucking underestimated them.

It had been about twenty minutes before the first sign of anything roused Duo from his thoughts- ones of Heero that he probably should have banished to the far-reaches of his mind, especially at a fucking time like this- but then the cockpit door was opening and a body was climbing in, dipping the floor a bit with the new added weight.

If Duo leaned just right he could peak a single eye between the seats in front of him, but he couldn't make much out from this distance, though his ears could hear the sound of pre-flight checks being made. Then came the incredibly loud sound of compressed air, almost like the crack of a gunshot, and then the whip of blades overhead coming to life. The whole craft started to vibrate.

A minute later the rear door was slid open and a large hulk of a man- someone he vaguely recognized from the med facility on L2- was hauling himself and a much slighter frame of a man thrashing like a beast in thick cuffs and zip tied ankles into the open area just behind the cockpit.

Quatre Winner was snarling obscenities that might've even made Duo himself blush, kicking and wriggling and generally giving his captor a hell of a time. The larger man seemed somewhat at a loss, struggling to keep the body in his grasp enough to place him on the floor and sidestepping back to the open doorway with a look of actual terror on his squared face. Duo had to hold himself back from laughing at the sight. Shit, he reminded himself never to fucking mess with Quat if he valued his life.

Next came another body, this one larger but more docile and that's when the humor of the situation faded. He'd never seen Trowa so pale, the man usually harboring a golden hugh to his skin- one any pallid spacer would envy. But then the container filled with blood samples came back into Duo's mind and he swallowed hard.

Trowa's body, restrained in the same manner, was placed next to Quatre's, the blond having grown instantly quiet, whispering something Duo couldn't hear in his companion's ear. But he could see Trowa smiling wide- an oddity he'd never forget from then on- and could only imagine the moment they were sharing, even now at what seemed their most vulnerable.

But he didn't have much time to dwell as the floor bounced again as the large goon came to rest in one of the seats in front of Duo's body, the one nearest his legs thankfully, the seat depressing backwards an inch from the new weight.

And then the door opposite the pilot opened to reveal Rolland sliding into his seat, buckling in, and turning to bark out a rough, "Go."

No sign of Quinze, but that was okay- one was better than none and besides, Duo knew the man would get his in the end. Wufei and Heero had the evidence to see to that.

Duo felt the entire craft begin to vibrate more violently, the turbines spin up, and the blades begin a furious acceleration overhead. Then the helicopter lifted up and they were airborne. He braced himself as the floor tilted, the nose tilting down to pick up speed. He clenched his teeth and laid his palms flat against the floor to keep from shifting as much as the tiny space might let him.

He'd leaned back now away from the crack between seats, but he could hear the slight shift of bodies on the floor only a few feet from him. Dammit. Duo's fingers found his gun and clung to it, trying to stop it from vibrating too much and giving his position away. He so desperately wanted to use it, to jump into action, to enact his horribly impulsive plan right then and there, but he knew he had to wait.

And wait he did, about twenty-odd minutes or so according to his internal clock. By now Wufei and Heero would've definitely already made contact with Preventer- if he was lucky they'd already have patrol cars at the med facility and people with big guns and bigger attitudes guiding a search of what might have been left behind, if anything at all. Hell, Captain Chang would probably be in the front lines.

And Heero would probably be explaining away the situation to Une herself, trying to make Duo look the hero, not the horribly caustic and apparently suicidal man he'd resigned himself to be. Even if it fucking worked, he certainly wouldn't be accepting anyone's gratitude. This was how it was supposed to be, he had to save those who were making it, those he owed it to as a friend. Whatever became of him- there really wasn't much of a difference there. Except, perhaps, in Heero's mind. He sucked in a ragged breath and decided if best to not think along those lines.

He could feel the helicopter slowing, there was a slight shift to the left as the pilot leveled it out, and the noise inside the cabin began to grow louder. Duo peaked through his inch worth of view. He could just make out Rolland, his head tilted and looking out the window next to him. Fucking surveying the land below, looking for the perfect spot. Then the older man turned to the pilot, gave some sort of order, and then Duo could feel the helicopter shift into a stationary hover.

For a second he could feel his hands start to quiver, but he decided indisputably that it was from the vibration of the craft's walls all around him. He then began to wonder idly if Rolland would be the one to do it, the one to open the door, the one to kill two ex-pilots without a second thought. But then the chair in front of him was shifting forward, there was a click of a harness, and the large hulk of a man was standing.

The guy had to crouch slightly to keep his balance, feet apart pressed into the floor, knees bent, head down. Duo watched the hulk take a tentative step forward, testing himself and then make the rest of the trip with a bit more confidence, coming to stop next to the door opposite the one they had both entered in before lift-off.

He grabbed hold of a safety harness and then unlatched the door bringing with it the blaring sound of wind and noise from the still hovering craft. The hulk then scrabbled backwards a bit, his vision turning first to the bound bodies on the floor and then to Rolland for confirmation. That's when Duo knew it was time.

In his mind it all played out in slow motion, but he knew in actuality that it would only take about four seconds, three if he were extra-cocky about it. First, he shifted his body, hooking two fingers onto the handle next to his shoulder and pushed, the seat-back bouncing forward with the effort. Second, he twisted his body, placed his right arm level against the cushion, steadying the Glock in his hand. Third, he fired.

The bullet hit the man square in the stomach, right in the space above his navel, red blooming almost instantly through the t-shirt he wore. It hadn't been as loud as it might've been somewhere else, somewhere without all the helicopter background noise, but still it had been heard clearly throughout the cockpit. Duo watched as the hulk sought him out, a look of utter disbelief forming on his face before his knees were buckling and he was losing balance and his immense weight carried him easily backwards through the open doorway and out of sight into the night.

Everyone in the cabin seemed to have barely reacted at all. Quatre was trying to crane his neck around to see where the shot had originated. Trowa was rolling onto his side. The pilot kept a firm grip on the controls, not daring to move. Rolland was staring blankly out into the open air where his hired-muscle had just disappeared into nothingness.

And then Shinigami stood up.

He crawled over the lowered seat like something out of a nightmare, levelling his Glock at Rolland's head, and sparing a single glance down towards Trowa and Quatre who each managed to find his boots, their muscles slackening slightly at the sight.

Here was the moment of optimum danger and of optimum opportunity. Duo couldn't afford to shoot Rolland because the bullet would inevitably hit something vital to their staying in the air. If the pilot was smart- or perhaps more likely brave- he could throw the helicopter about violently until all the unsecured cargo fell out and then their plan would succeed, plus one.

If the pilot understood, Duo and his friends were fucked. If he didn't, then Rolland and the pilot were as good as dead.

In this smallest amount of luck the pilot was stupid or just cowardly or hopeful that he might survive if he played along. Maybe, maybe he would be so lucky. They would have to wait and see on that one. But he didn't do anything reckless, he kept the helicopter nice and stationary and after a few seconds to confirm that that was how it was going to stay, Duo's lips peeled into a smile.

He moved quickly, stepping forward with cat-like balance and wrapped his sharp elbow around Rolland's neck, keeping his Glock in one hand pointed at the man's skull and the other reaching down towards a raised leg to grab at his knife. Once retrieved, he gestured it behind him, his vision slipping to watch as Trowa- flexibility uncanny- was halfway through the act of lacing his long arms around his body to bring cuffed wrists forward for an easier time of escaping. A few seconds later he felt fingers grabbing for the knife.

While Trowa set to work on ridding he and Quatre of the zip ties, Duo turned his attentions back to Rolland. He placed his mouth close to the other man's ear. "The keys?" he asked, in all geniality.

The doctor seemed hesitant at first, as he should have been seeing as his entire plan was unravelling at the seems, but then Duo's chokehold tightened and the man wheezed out once, fingers pawing at his pocket.

"Okay, you just hold still there. I'll get 'em," Duo instructed, his left hand reaching into the other man's trousers to pull free a single, silver key. He held it backwards again to an awaiting Trowa.

A few seconds and two hollow clicks later his friends were free, flexing their stiff muscles. They'd probably been like that for hours by the way their hands seemed to be shaking uncontrollably. Duo watched from his peripherals as Trowa stayed seated, his eyes sunken, and he couldn't help but commiserate the feeling of having nearly your entire flow of blood drained from you in one go. If they'd not been pumped full of whatever nasty drugs and nano-tech when they were teenagers, they probably would've never been able to survive such an experience in the first place. What a fucking double-edged sword that was.

But Quatre, shaking out his hands fervently, took the new opportunity of freedom in stride. He grabbed up Duo's knife from the floor, stalking forward as nimbly as Duo had done, and grabbed the pilot's collar, sticking the blade just under his jaw. He didn't say a word, shit but he didn't have to, the gesture spoke for itself. The pilot stayed incredibly still, eyes staring out the windscreen ahead of him.

Duo was admittedly impressed, not having seen Quatre as anything other than a businessman for the last however many years. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd ever seen the blond with so much pent up aggression as he seemed to be having now. Of course, he'd not witnessed the man pilot Zero during the war- perhaps this was a bit reminiscent. He swallowed back the thought and turned his attention to Rolland once more.

The man was clawing at his arm now. Duo pressed the barrel of his weapon further into his skull and the movement ceased. He turned to the pilot. "How far up are we?"

The pilot swallowed before answering. "Three-thousand feet."

Duo pretended to mull it over a bit and then nodded. He spoke in Rolland's ear again. "Is this how high up you took 'Heero Yuy' when you wanted to test out your little science experiment?"

The man gasped for air and Duo lessened his grip by a centimeter. Then Rolland's head bobbed. "Yes," he rasped out, sounding almost defeated, like he knew exactly what was going to come next. And shit, it was a pretty predictable fate, but Duo didn't really much care.

Reaching down to unbuckle the man's harness Duo pulled the larger body backwards with a burst of energy and threw him down to the floor next to Trowa. Rolland landed hard on hands and knees, the helicopter wavering from the impact, and then looked up into those green eyes. Trowa lent the man a smile, but not one someone wanted to see before lights out. Not kind, just a little sick.

In an instant Rolland was scrambling, trying to get a hold in order to stand or turn and ready himself for a fight, but it was too late. Duo's foot slammed him hard against the middle of the spine, sending his body back to the floor and forward a couple of inches closer to the still open door.

The man's limbs flailed again, pushing under himself, trying desperately to back away from the imminent plunge, but Duo was on him now, pinning his body beneath his easily. Rolland tried at first to buck him off, but he was an old man and Shinigami was stronger than ever.

He leaned in close again. "You fucked with the wrong people, Meister R. First mistake: you fucked with the scientists. Second mistake: you fucked with their pet-projects. Never fucking mess with ex-Gundam pilots."

Duo pushed then against the man's shoulders, the body sliding out from under him little by little even as it struggled. But he'd not accounted for the sharp flash of a blunt knife to hit him squarely between the ribs. He watched, dazed, as Rolland's fingers stayed clenched around the weapon he'd not seen or sensed before it was too late. A few rivulets of blood began to trickle against his aged skin.

But Duo did not feel the pain of the impact or the way the man was attempting to twist the lodged blade inside of him. Instead he jumped backwards, pushing and kicking out just wanting to rid himself of this disgusting person once and for all. The photographs of them flashed before his eyes, vials of blood dancing across his vision, his name- Maxwell- and all the others plastered across that wall like they'd always been nothing more than experiments and data to be harvested.

Duo kicked out with his boot, hitting the man in the side and sending his weight forward and out the door, but not a second later was there a sensation of heat wrapping around his lower leg, something pulling, his body sliding towards the howling darkness.

Rolland had him in his grasp and now they'd finally get to see if he really was the God of Death, un-killable, invincible. But all that mattered now was that this man would be dead and gone from their lives. The other's could finally move on from this. It was all over. The end was finally here.