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Chapter Twelve

Finders Keepers


Possession is nine tenths of the law,


But knowledge is what leads to power.


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Duo cleans house and maybe accidentally becomes a Dutch Mafioso in the process. Dorothy has maybe a little too much fun, and Relena shares notes with a prior RLTT candidate - and comes out with more questions than answers. Meanwhile, Zechs finds a convenient soft spot and Marlé is continually in exactly the wrong place at the wrong time.

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August 23rd 198 – Saturday – Prague, Czech Republic

"I'll be another week at the most," Lucrezia muttered. "This resource satellite is literally on the way back to Howard; it would be a waste to pass it by when it only adds a day or two."

Sally nodded, even though the phone wasn't hooked up for video right now and her general couldn't see her. "The boys should be able to take care of things just fine in the interim," she agreed aloud. "I sent your girl out scouting, though, with a couple of her favorites for back-up. Xu's on standby if something big happens, but I think she really needed some fresh air."

"She's had plenty of fresh air," the other woman pointed out, though her tone was faintly amused.

"It was a euphemism for independence," Sally noted wryly. "The debriefs on that road trip were altogether entertaining, by the way. Is there something going on that I should know about?" Hilde had been downright convinced that Lucrezia was flirting with the ex-pilot – Well, maybe not so ex, considering what happened in Sudan – and Xu had agreed it looked a little that way… and what they told her about 'Odin' painted a feasible enough picture. If she tipped her head to one side and squinted, she supposed she could see the idea. All she really knew about Heero these days was that he was different than before, and Lu had been spending quite a bit of time with him lately, after all.

Instead of the snort and wry remark she'd expected, her friend hummed in a pleased way, before happily announcing, "It's not polite to kiss and tell."

Sally felt her brows rise even as a broad smile crept across her lips. Really, now? She certainly sounded pleased enough with herself. A genuine chuckle escaped her lips. "Wow. You go, girl." Just because she hadn't expected it didn't make it a bad thing. After all, Heero had proven over the years that he always delivered, right?

Lucrezia laughed brightly in return. "I'll see you next week."

"Have fun. Not too much fun, mind, but-" She laughed hard as the other woman hung up on her.

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August 25th 198 – Monday – Amsterdam, Netherlands – New Renew

"Be with you in just a minute!" Duo called distractedly when the bell on the front door chimed, hurriedly wiping his hands off on a rag and grimacing when that didn't seem to improve how they looked, moving into the bathroom and quickly beginning to scrub at his hands. It was never good to keep a customer waiting, but you didn't want to be filthy either.

His hands didn't exactly come up clean by the time he had snatched up a hand towel and started for the stairs, but he wouldn't be getting some kind of grime on everything he touched now, at least. Technically he really should have been working hardware down in the garage, but Melissa had a car in there again and he hadn't wanted to be crowded. "What can I-" He cut himself off as he saw it was Val, still in Militia khaki for the day, and grinned. "Hey, what's up?"

The other Devil grimaced, looking uncomfortable, and Duo frowned. He didn't look upset enough for it to be dire, but while it wasn't unusual for Val to visit – the shop ended up being on the way between the Den and where most met up for patrols – he wasn't acting social. "What's wrong?" Melissa was on shift, so it was possible she'd been hurt, but Val only looked uncomfortable, not worried. Karina and Renee were over at the church for a play date, and the boys wouldn't be out of school for another two hours. He supposed it was possible that Will had relapsed, but he was back at the Den today and Val was still in uniform; if it was trouble at home, one of the girls would have come to let him know.

Probably something to do with city or gang politics, then. He'd been hoping that his last object lesson would stick; he didn't particularly enjoy beating hungry teenagers within an inch of their lives, but someone had to make it clear that stealing food from widowed moms wasn't going to be tolerated, not in any way, shape or form. The teenagers, at least, had the means to get a job, or band together into a group; Mrs. Staffan was rail thin and working thirteen hour days trying to keep her little ones fed. The oldest was only ten, and if it weren't for her refusing to go to school so she could take care of her three and four year old brothers, their mom wouldn't be able to bring in anything.

He set his jaw as he finished drying his hands and Val searched for what words he wanted to use. After the riot last year, the Devils had become a gang again in truth, protecting their territory and those living in it; no one trusted the police to be able to do shit, and the Militia could be hit or miss, depending on who you got. When he'd recognized how much of the 'crime' in the area was really just people in want, he'd figured out how to arrange the neighborhood into a shared network, and a lot of it had leveled out. It had been a hell of a lot of work, but it helped, and besides, it was one less reason for the cops or military to come wandering into his space and figure out something they shouldn't about him.

He didn't hide anymore, exactly, but he didn't want the influence… or at least, that had been the game plan. Unfortunately, before long his little domestic network had grown to cover over a quarter of the city and become a job link-up, and social stuff ran through it too. It had gotten bigger than he could really keep control of, but was fine so long as people behaved.

So naturally, it had started having issues as soon as people quit being so scared that they thought being part of the community was the only way they were going to survive. At first it was just tension shit, but periodically he had to give people reasons to not cause trouble. After the shit with the Staffans happened last month, he'd begun using the fledgling gangs that had cropped up over the winter – the ones he'd immediately taken under wing and treated like separate branches of the Devils – to enforce it throughout their territory… Because once it started, it wasn't like he could be everywhere at once.

The idea was to make it at least mostly self-run. Melissa had been the one to really design the logistics at each level, but he had understood before she had said it that he couldn't try to handle all the small stuff personally. Some of it, sure, but for the most part, he was finding himself more of a deterrent than anything. It had gotten around that if you fucked someone over, Kasey von Koll would rip it back out of your hide without a second thought.

Depending on what they'd done, that was generally pretty damn true. The kids hadn't belonged to any family sets, but even if they had, that wouldn't change the fact that if they pulled that kind of shit again, he'd have to do something to them that couldn't be fixed.

And maybe he'd get nightmares over it, maybe he wouldn't, but either way, people in his quarter would know they were safe.

"There's a situation," Val admitted finally. "It doesn't really involve us, but… Kay, I tried, but I can't let it go. The last time these guys snatched a few kids, the cops found them in pieces when their folks wouldn't cooperate. They got one back, but… shit, they cut off her hands."

Duo clenched his teeth. "Why the hesitation, then?" Hurting kids was a hell of a way to get him spitting mad and up running, and Val knew it, so there had to be a reason he was all wound up about telling him about it. Maybe it's outside our area? But that hadn't stopped him before, and Val knew that. He was friends enough by now with most of the city even outside their quarter that he wouldn't have a hard time getting help, or at least non-interference.

Val licked his lips. "It's Don Fergusen's girls."

His gut clenched, even as he grit his teeth so tight his ears started to ring. Yeah… He could see the problem.

That was a big fucking problem.

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Khashuri, Georgia

"You're sure you'll be fine?" Quatre asked, more distractedly than out of concern.

"I've totally done this before," Marlé dismissed easily. "I'm good, and I don't want to hold you up any, now that the borders are open again. Besides," she held up her new passport with a grin. "I'm sixteen now. Nobody will even think twice about me traveling alone." And she really didn't look like her old pictures anymore. She could actually pass off the sixteen listed on her ID, though it was pushing it; Quatre said she looked closer to fifteen, but she had the confidence to make most people not doubt sixteen.

She was keeping her old papers too, but now, if push came to shove, she and Odin could be Aurelia and Rowan Deloe, from L4. She had her new birthday and address and life story all memorized, even. At first, when they'd heard back from Odin that he was going to be another week or so, Quatre had been annoyed because he wanted to finish up… before he realized that she could craft the digital end of IDs as well as her pseudo-brother. He'd made sure of that pretty much as soon as he'd gotten Quatre to agree to teach her the rest. After that, he was eager to go back to whoever they were making all the papers for… Until he realized that it might be rude to tell the twelve-year-old he was looking after to get lost.

Well, not in those words. But it was flattering that it hadn't seemed to occur to him that she might not be fine until he remembered Cory was older than her. She didn't really need any looking after anymore, but it was sweet of him to think about it and offer to, if she wanted.

Besides, she hadn't seen Amos in a while, so she figured she might as well head back that way. Maybe wander a little bit on the way; she wouldn't mind seeing Athens again if the trains ran through there, but maybe she'd do a straight shot. Whatever she felt like when she started off, really.

"Stay in touch!" she called behind her as she walked out, waving. They weren't heading out until later in the day, but she had all her stuff together and… well, she was getting bored, cooped up here in the desert a whole week. Cory was nice and all, but… kinda clingy. She didn't really mind, exactly, but she was kinda done for now.

Maybe she'd head to Germany first, around Berlin. No way was she going to stay in the Munich area, what with all the political stuff going on heavy with the princess living there, but she wanted to see just how good her German was getting.

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Amsterdam, Netherlands

"Will it do?"

Melissa closed the window showing the laptop's specs and stood up. "It will," she reassured the man. "I'm going to need to take it with me. Have you already gotten rid of any sensitive information on it?"

"As soon as you said you might need it," he returned quickly. "A computer, that's nothing. Was there anything else you think you might need?"

Melissa resisted the urge to sigh, instead meeting Fergusen's eyes solidly and trying to project calm confidence. "This should be fine. But-" She cut off whatever he opened his mouth to say, "I will let you know immediately if there is anything else you can do."

He seemed to shrink into himself even as he nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course, all right. Anything you need. Call me at any time, any time, if there's anything at all-"

She reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Sir," she murmured quietly. "Know that we will, okay? In a heartbeat. If there's anything at all, you'll be the first to know." She doubted it was going to come to that, from the plan Duo had laid out, but it was good backup, and in any case they were words that this poor father needed to hear.

She was familiar with what it felt like, to find yourself helpless to save those you loved. She imagined it must only be worse for a parent.

Giving his shoulder a last squeeze, she pulled back. "You should report it stolen. He knows what he's doing, but caution goes a long way. On the off chance something less than legitimate gets traced back to this machine, we don't want it to be linked back to you, okay?"

His expression turned even more troubled, but he nodded resolutely. "That… sounds sensible, yes." He turned pleading eyes back on her. "Whatever it takes, I don't care. Please."

She nodded again, and debated reaching out and patting his arm for a moment, before he moved past her to shut the machine and put it in the grocery bag she had brought with her, along with its power cord and other odds and ends. She watched him, debating just how close he was to falling apart. Fussing over the details seemed to be helping, so she let him, even if she could find no reason whatsoever for them to have the headset and mouse pad he tucked in the bag.

When he held it out for her to take, she met his eyes again. They were harder now, determined… a good sign. "You're a good man," she told him firmly. "And a good father." And she meant it with every fiber of her being. She would have been willing to do this even if Duo hadn't been because the truth was, Fergusen couldn't afford the ransom being asked for his daughters because he was an honest man. When they had set the price, they must have done so with the assumption that all politicians embezzled. Even with all his savings scrounged together and favors called in, he couldn't come close to the what they were asking… And so an honest man had had to resort to means he would never have ever contemplated, let alone condoned, just to see his little girls again.

His mouth hardened. "Just get them back." His voice was firmer, now, and his hand didn't shake as she took the bag from him, despite the awkward angle he had been holding it at.

She nodded. "We will." And I'll make sure they never do this to anyone else again too.

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Munich, Germany – Sarracenia

Relena raised her brows, smiling faintly as Dorothy practically danced into her lounge. Someone's in a good mood. She had worried about that. The first day or two after she sent Jake away, the other woman had been convinced that he'd left because he was upset about her leaving him behind, and that any of Relena's arguments to the contrary were lies meant to make her feel better. Evidently, she'd gotten over her dramatics, one way or another… and her hair had streaks of blue now, instead of green.

She wondered if that meant anything. Normally, she'd say it was just whimsy, but… Well, it really might just be whimsy. If it wasn't she doubted she could parse out the reasoning in any case.

"For you," Dorothy announced in a sing-song as she meandered over, offering her a portable data drive.

Relena took it with a bemused smile, debating what it was. The casing on the little drive was classy, expensive in a subtle way, but there were no personally identifiable markings beyond money. "From?"

"Compliments of Edmund Sunstrum," the heiress purred. "He appreciates my consideration of his abilities, and looks forward to working with you."

…If she wasn't fairly sure that Dorothy was above seducing young men for information, she would be worried about that statement. The second youngest son of Marquis Vincent Sunstrum was rumored to be something of a genius when it came to electronics; it had evidently caused something of a scandal when he had asked, four years ago, if he could take up an apprenticeship position in an engineering firm in L1. His family had rather thoroughly rebuked him for it, dismissing it as a need to sow wild oats, but the action had put him on Olivia's list of those trying to strike out… and if he was half as talented as they hoped, she could make good use of him.

She had forgotten Dorothy was going to see him today. Or was it yesterday? Either way, it was a promising start; she had sent Dorothy because outside of Jake, the heiress was the only one who had a hope of accurately evaluating him on a technical level. "He's good, then?" she asked curiously.

"A seeming natural reverse engineer," Dorothy continued happily, moving to the desks to sift through… something. "Self-taught. Overlooked talent is so eager to rise to the challenge if recognized. I thought we'd recruit him before your brother thought to be possessive." Turning back around and leaning back against the desk, she offered her a wicked little smirk before declaring, "Among other things, there's schematics in there breaking down the components of the earlier heat amplifiers."

Relena's breath caught. "No," she announced definitively. "I need the Chinese; we're not going to undercut them."

Dorothy waved a hand lazily at her, pulling a packet of candy from somewhere behind her back and tossing a piece in her mouth. "Of course not, and I'm fairly sure he hasn't shown anyone else; too much resentment running in that family. No, this is just a proof, Lena. He was raised Romefeller through and through; he knows the political impact that doing it would cause. But if he can do that from a few spare parts and broken panels the technicians tossed out…" Her mouth widened into a smile.

The princess found herself smiling right back. Then he could do a great deal more elsewhere, with more information at his fingertips. And Dorothy had just brought him to her. "I love you," she announced happily, setting the drive down on her coffee table and holding out a hand. "Share."

Her friend laughed delightedly as she flounced over to the opposite couch, tipping a few gummies into Relena's outstretched palm before dropping onto her back and stretching out. "I also converted Count Haun to your school of thought," she admitted, again almost purring the words out.

Relena frowned. "Dana Haun?"

"The same," the other blonde sighed out, closing her eyes.

That… was impossible. She narrowed her eyes. "You mean you blackmailed him."

Dorothy blinked open her eyes, affecting at surprise. "Is there a difference?"

Relena groaned, slouching back in her seat. As ever with Dorothy, it was hard to tell if she did understand the difference or not. But it also wasn't worth the effort of forcing the point, at the moment; the count in question would never willingly support her, she was sure, and he had to have done something bad enough to be worthy of blackmail. "I'll be sure to be pleasantly surprised when he talks to me again," she announced, enunciating clearly, "because I know nothing about the conversation you had with him."

It was Dorothy's turn to frown. "You don't," she noted. "Because I didn't tell you."

"Precisely."

The other woman rolled her eyes. "Naturally."

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Amsterdam, Netherlands – New Renew

Duo bit his lip, leaning back in his chair. Another dead end. On the one hand, it was frustrating as hell and it was making his skin crawl with worry… Angelica and Amilee Ferguson were seven years old and three, and these guys had a nasty history. On the other, he wasn't too worried… at least, not yet. This was his goddamn city… and the ideal place to hide in this town was in his fucking sector. It was just deep enough in the slums without being too dangerous; he had kept his area pretty clean after taking out the Slingers, and the gangs he'd cultivated out of the incoming refugees were more crews than anything. They still got some foul play, sure, but it was nothing compared to the shit that went down in Shadow or Beale territory… and Cadence and Tiger ran their sectors like they were the fucking KGB – that level of scrutiny made them a damned bad place to be up to anything in.

No… it pissed him off, but out of all the options, he was probably considered the least trouble, especially since it'd been over a year since the Devils got into anything deep. Even when they had been neck and neck with the Slingers, it had still been pretty tame compared their neighbors. Hell, the way the Devils came off as good people even from the start was why I settled in with them.

No, he liked their image, overall, but he was glad that Val had brought this to him even if it was scraping his damn nerves raw, because if this had slid past him… It would have done damage to their reputation, not even getting into having those little girls on his conscience. If he didn't come down on these guys like the hammer of God, then someone else would get ideas, before long.

And when he handled this like the Chaos he had introduced himself as almost two years ago – decisively, absolutely – then no one would be willing to try something for a long ass time. They needed that deterrent. The fact that it was outsiders doing this to Dutch children made it all the more important that he be far harsher than he would over an internal issue too.

And he certainly wouldn't lose sleep over making this example.

These guys… They were professional in a way that he hadn't seen since the war, but there was something almost lazy about them too. Hell, I haven't seen something like this since I tried to pull some major shit and vanish into thin air. Household security had managed to ID the vehicle the kids had been taken in, but it had been reported stolen the day before, and turned up abandoned a few miles away from the house. That was how the Militia knew about it in the first place, because after that, Fergusen had started refusing to talk to the authorities – the first of the kidnappers' demands. The man was aware enough of the underbelly of his city, though, to consider less noticeable assistance, and had managed to catch the attention of a Militia man who was known to be a member of the Devils.

Cue in how this became Duo's problem.

He'd had Melissa take the father's laptop, hoping to make some headway from the hacking angle, but despite being able to get into his cell company's network – Thank-you, Mr. Perfect Soldier! – the call giving a proof of possession on the girls was, predictably, just a burner being used from the middle of a town square. He'd hoped that maybe they'd use the phone again, but so far, no such luck. At this point, he wouldn't be too surprised if they had one guy handling any communication away from where they were keeping the girls, just incase someone had the balls to skate mobile network security – something that even he wouldn't have been willing to do before watching Heero crack a few.

Hell if he knew why, but cell companies were about as uptight as Swiss banks; they took the idea of privacy to scary heights, at least at the core level. He could get into the cell towers and satellites easy enough, but all that would give him is location; the numbers and actual information being passed around was heavily encrypted.

It was one of the ways he had been able to even get orders during the war, and he'd always thought it was awesome, seeing as OZ wasn't too big on cell phones… but yeah, the Regime, unlike the Alliance, had a damn fine foothold in those companies. Apparently someone had recognized that particular hole. I bet Zechs used it at least once. And anyway, he'd just gotten in, so maybe it wasn't as badass as he'd thought…

…and he was going off on a tangent. Groaning, closed his eyes and tipped his head back, trying to think.

He was positive that they were in his part of the city; he had been since Val had first given him the lowdown on how these guys ran their ops. They'd given Fergusen four days to pull together the funds, and said they'd call him again with a fresh proof of life and a drop location. Cash is king, evidently. Their M.O. at that point was to call a handful of hours after picking up the loot to give a location on the kidnappee. They always did that, even in the instances where they'd left a corpse. He supposed that at least they were consistent.

He could work with consistent. Predictable.

The van was a typical dead end, but they had to have switched out for a different car at that point, and he had no way of telling if it had been another steal or not. Just the same, he had everyone in his network watching out for different autos; there were few enough that came through that everyone knew the regulars. With what he'd seen so far, he doubted they were stupid enough to bring something too noticeable into the clichey area that slums around the world made, but it couldn't hurt to keep an eye out – you never knew what someone else thought was dumb. These guys were outsiders, but there hadn't been any real waves in the community for a couple weeks… which suggested set-up. Someone had come in within the last three months and settled in and arranged everything they would need, so that the rest could come into town and just melt into the shadows with none the wiser.

They would have needed supplies, though; they'd just burgled the damn mayor's children out of his house, and his security, while not the best in the world, hadn't been a pushover. While Melissa had been talking to the guy and getting his computer, Duo'd been checking out the security footage, the damage… and from there, he knew there were only a handful of people they could have gotten their supplies from in all of the Netherlands. And they would have wanted to get it at least within the country, to avoid the border patrols – it was worth the price to let the black market handle the risks for you, generally speaking.

And Kasey von Koll was in pretty tight with the local black market; in all honesty, half his local networking was steeped in it. It wasn't like they only dealt in guns and drugs, after all. Hell, he was one of their favorite people, anymore; he'd practically custom made a front-end shop for their business. It wasn't like he cared if people wanted bombs or drugs; he'd certainly picked up enough weapons to make people nervous, and if someone wanted to blow their brains on a high, that was their problem. If they decided to make it his problem somehow, he'd handle it; people had the right to take care of their own shit how they wanted.

Either way, he took care of his people and everyone knew it, so it hadn't taken much to get them to talk to him. Maybe it would have been an issue if he hadn't been asking after outsiders, but he probably would've only had to grease some wheels even if that hadn't been the case. Only two orders had come through that would have covered their needs within the past six weeks; before that, nothing that would have matched up for a good four months, which was just outside of any practical timeline, at least for a repeat offender.

They had made a system of this: a total of twelve reported jobs since they first cropped up five years ago. They were efficient enough about everything else… They had definitely gotten it to the point that they didn't need to waste time.

Whoever had come first would have avoided making attachments; easier to disappear later, that way. In most places, that would work, but here… in Devils' territory, that would probably be remembered, if not fussed about. If he could find any instances of that in his timeline of the past two months, he should be able to sketch out a rough search radius.

So for now… he had to sit here and wait to hear back from anyone, which felt worthless, but really, he knew better.

oOo


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August 26th 198 – Tuesday – Berlin, Germany

Really, she should have expected it. At the same time though… Traveling was so much more boring without Odin.

It wasn't that she couldn't take care of herself or anything. It was just… he'd know stuff about the area, and he'd show her, and it's be really cool even though if someone else was talking about it, it'd be totally lame.

…Wow. Marlé sighed and flipped out her phone, considering the time. She was, like… homesick. Grimacing, she tucked her phone back in her pocket and sat back on the park bench. Just thinking about her mom made her stomach start churning… And she didn't want to get it over with right now because she'd be totally mad about her running around on her own like this too. She hadn't ever told her mom when she'd done it the first time, and it wasn't like Odin would have brought it up with her. So when she did talk to her mom again, she needed to do it when Odin was nearby, even if he said she had to handle it by herself. Just so she could, maybe… Spread the news out a bit. It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong, but her mom wasn't going to get that.

Groaning, she pulled her phone back out and tapped out a message to her pseudo brother.

'i miss you'

She tucked her feet up under her while she waited for a response, trying to figure out what she even wanted him to say back. When her grandfather had first taken her away, she had wanted Meagan more than anything… Then once she had taken up with Odin, the one thing she wanted more than anything was her mom. She'd dreamed about how she'd find her again, what she'd say, and all the ways she might've responded… And then none of it had happened out like she'd ever imagined.

Now, though… it felt like she couldn't do anything without Odin around, like, five times worse than it had been about her mom. And worse, it was a lie; she could do so much more on her own than she could have even dreamed of before she met Odin, but…

…It just wasn't fun by herself.

Huffing out a breath, she dropped her head in her hands, starting to feel embarrassed. Really, what was she expecting? What was he supposed to even do? He and Lucrezia were up in space by now, doing important stuff. They had too much on their plate to work with for her to bother him about feeling lonely when she was perfectly fine otherwise, especially when she was feeling so crummy about it because she wouldn't call her mom.

Maybe I could catch a flight up to them, she wondered forlornly, before waving the idea off. They weren't taking public routes, and she didn't know even close to enough about the back ways to handle it on her own.

No, she was acting like a little kid. Come on, get over it, she urged herself, not looking up. He's probably not even going to get that text for another hour or more. Just… go find something fun to do. There had to be a bookstore she could get lost in for a while, right? Or, like, even just get lost trying to find a good bookstore-

"I see you."

She half scrambled to get her phone back out, and blinked at the message before smiling so wide her face hurt. That was the thing, with Odin; however weird he could get, deep down, he always knew just what you needed.

'Do you want me to head back?'

That… made her feel a whole world better, just knowing that he would drop whatever he was doing if she asked. He'd made it clear before that he would, but… well, she'd never asked him to.

And, she decided with a swell of pride, she wasn't about to start, not if she didn't need him.

'well, just… how long do you need to finish up? i mean, whatever's fine, it just isn't the same, you know?' She thought for a moment longer, before adding, 'i'll just go hang out in Amsterdam again for now'. Amos was more fun than Cory, to be sure… and she knew the city well enough by now to make herself comfortable if he was busy.

Having a plan made it all easy, again.

'Alright. I'll see you Thursday.'

Marlé grinned to herself at that… and flipped back through her past calls for Amos' number.

oOo


oOo

Munich, Germany – Sarracenia

"Thank-you so much for seeing me," the blonde woman murmured cheerfully as she took a seat and crossed her legs, looking around the atrium office in delight. "And I must say that you have good taste."

Relena smiled in response, shaking her head. "As much as I would like to claim it was my idea, it was actually sprung on me by my… assistant, after he'd made the arrangements." She shook her head slightly, tossing her hair more than anything. "As much as I'm enjoying it, the credit goes to him."

Assistant. Mailin repressed a snicker. For all that it was true on a handful of levels… He makes some assistant.

Their guest, Delilah Osborne, had a light in her eyes that suggested that her thoughts weren't so far from Mai's own. "Well, then you must have excellent taste in your people," she decided. "The last assistant I had of that caliber, I married." Before Relena had a chance to blush, however, she was continuing on. "In any case, I hadn't expected something so beautiful when you invited me into your home. Though, of course," she smiled and offered her a saucy wink. "Only the best for the best, hm?"

The princess only sighed. "I suspect Jake might have had something like that in mind," she admitted carelessly. "It's a lovely home, and I'm glad for it, but it's hardly of any real concern." She met her eyes pointedly. "If it would have furthered my interests, I might have chosen a studio apartment."

Delilah only looked more pleased at the announcement, eying the younger woman critically as she nodded. "Yes, I'm sure you would…" Glancing around the room again, a smirk touched her lips. "This room here would make an excellent studio, if you don't mind my saying so, however." Relena laughed, and her guest shook her head slightly. "In any case… yes, I can see that it's a bonus, not a need. I certainly don't need my townhouse in Nice, but it certainly does sweeten the pot, as it were." Her smile was gentle, and genuine. "In this world where so many are impoverished, I don't take my blessings for granted, but neither do I scorn what I receive; I've found it best to recognize my good fortune, and do what I can to spread it."

Nice speech. The French woman had successfully broken the ice with the princess, setting up a warm, joking environment, while testing the waters and establishing herself as a spiritual kinsman to her host. It was… verging on artful. Dangerous. Well, possibly, at any rate. It wasn't as though she were trying to camouflage herself; everything about the woman was delicately designed to show the self-made entrepreneur as she was, from her flowing summer dress, whimsical shoes, and make-up perfectly painted to accent her heart-shaped face and pale blue eyes, to her platinum blonde waves hanging to the middle of her back just too perfectly to have been carelessly styled. With her wedding band on her left hand and a thick golden bangle encircling her right bicep, she was a poster image of new money finery – the kind of woman that made Romefeller nervous. Practical, gorgeous, and every bit as proud, without any of the tradition. In all too many ways, she was a model for what Relena herself was attempting to craft of herself, except Relena had the old money at her back. She was the image of modern, feminine power, even if she was only the creator of a foundation to reunite war-torn families.

In any case, Delilah Osborne was absolutely the most feminine dyke Mailin had ever met. Having met Helena Osborne the other day – who could pass herself off as a Greek goddess – she had expected someone more… butch. Shows what I know, she couldn't help but think in amusement. If you've written off men, after all, why not?

"I couldn't agree more," Relena declared. "Though when I heard a previous RLTT candidate was requesting an audience, I suspected we might have at least a few things in common."

Delilah's laugh was downright musical, in a way that almost made Mai want to frown in jealousy. Not really, though – she did sexy dangerous far better than pretty, and she'd always liked it that way. Just… damn, that was all. It almost made her think about the fairer sex herself…

…Well, no not really. Men were far too much fun to give it any real thought.

"The Tomorrow Today Fund was what really got me off the ground," Delilah noted. "Before that, I was just a girl with an idea, but without the confidence to bring it into the world."

Lin shifted slightly from his place near the door, behind the women, and Mai met his eyes for a moment, catching the thought. She'd heard enough from Lin, Jake, Dorothy, even Relena herself, to realize that the young woman she was guarding had been much the same.

So, a lie to endear herself, or does RLTT have a type? More likely the latter, in her opinion. They had done their research; by all accounts they could find, Osborne as the woman she had become started as a fifteen-year-old orphan who decided she had something to prove, working as a waitress in Paris and sharing a tiny flat with three other people to keep from dipping into a life insurance allotment she had inherited… Because she had wanted to do something important with it, she'd said.

Most teenage girls thought having a decent standard of living was important. But not Delilah… and if their positions had been reversed, she thought maybe Relena would be the same.

And Delilah could see it too.

"Do you know how you caught RLTT's attention?" Relena asked. "With me, the invitation came directly after my success in China, but-"

"But I had never been on television," Delilah finished easily. "No… to be honest, I still have no idea on exactly how, but I wasn't exactly quiet about my scorn for what the Alliance's actions had been known to do to people, especially families. I first thought I had found what I wanted to do when Sanc fell." She pursed her lips. "It was hardly the first time something like that happened, but it was something of a catalyst for a lot of people." Shaking her head, she continued. "Then, it was as if the floodgates blew open; supposed uprisings in the colonies that the Alliance wanted to put down… People who spoke out too strongly went missing, very suddenly. There was so much propaganda flying around that you couldn't believe anything anyone said." A wry smile twisted her mouth. "And I had been on my own for a whole three years by then, so obviously I knew what needed to be done, right? I wanted it to be solid, though…" She sighed. "I took my time planning it out, which was really saying something, considering how little free time I had, and before I knew it, another two years had gone by."

Her mouth tightened. "I was sick of waiting, so I just threw myself into it, and, well… The response was rather lackluster. For all that I could tell that half of what I had been told about the world was propaganda, at first what I thought I needed was to have none myself, and people would see the truth; but you have to be seen in the first place, to get someone's attention. Then, when I got off my high horse and tried to focus more on getting my name out there, I found that I was altogether bad at advertisement." She shook her head again. "In the process, I blew the lion share of my money. In the end, I found myself running something almost entirely local to northern France in my free time while I stayed in the restaurant business, with little more attention put out from it than a phonebook listing. I wasn't willing to give it up, but…" She shook her head. "I couldn't bring it into reality on my own.

"I focused on missing persons reports, though; I couldn't work out how to get people to come to me, but every chance I had, I worked on it. I knew where all the refugees tried to hide in Paris by the time I was twenty-one, and I ran interviews, getting as much information as I could, then cross-referencing it against every bit of information I could find in my little sham of an office, trying to find connections." Tapping at her lips with one finger, she admitted, "I had the most success with the children, though I never worked out if that was because someone was looking harder to find them than they might an adult, or because children have a way of telling the truth that adults just can't see… And since RLTT's proposal first came when I was twenty-six, specifically offering funding and structure for a program focused on children, I suppose something I did on those cases was what caught their attention. After that… Well, things just grew. I'd learned from my mistakes… and whoever runs the Fund has more influence than I would have imagined. I was a candidate for nearly two years before RLTT moved on, and by then I was self-sufficient; and now I am able to take the program everywhere I had ever dreamed."

Considering the fact that the Osborne Reunion Foundation had been the organization people went to when trying to find missing persons since 194, she wasn't boasting. They certainly didn't find everyone, especially considering the sheer chaos that had followed the Fall at the end of 195, but they had the best success rates – nearly double what any other organization could claim. Of course, that is in part because they take on more clients. If you fell below a certain income bracket, there was no charge… and certainly, they worked for less than most companies trying the same gig, and tried five times harder than the government, even while it relied on a strong network of volunteers as much as its stable employees. For the most part, Delilah's organization stayed afloat on a mixture of donations and passive income from good investments.

"That's a fantastic inspiration," Relena announced.

Delilah's grin was infectious, and she leaned back in her seat, practically beaming with pride. "Success stories generally are, as a rule." Pursing her lips, she added, "One of the reasons I asked to see you, however, was that hoping for your opinion on a proposition. I've been debating if I should propose it directly to the government or run through the private sector."

"Oh?"

She was eying the princess carefully, now. "I firmly believe that the majority of the men in Cambyses were victims of circumstance."

Ooh, way to get to the heart of the matter. Bold. Not that Mailin had expected anything but bold, but it looked as though their guest didn't like to beat around the bush.

Thankfully, neither did the princess. "I am of the same opinion," Relena agreed smoothly. "There are exceptions, of course, but I also believe that even in those cases, their families deserve to know what happened." She turned steely eyes on the older woman. "The truth is not always pretty, but it is still what everyone deserves."

Osborne looked smugly impressed. "So if I were to offer my services directly to the government for the Cambyses survivors…?"

Relena pursed her lips… then, to Mailin's surprise, shook her head. "The international nature of it would give me some amount of influence over it, but in truth, there would be so many varying opinions that I cannot guarantee you a favorable result. It was difficult enough to establish amnesty for those who fought alongside the Strike Force, and the fate of those who surrendered has been circling through debates since before the strike even began."

Delilah blinked languidly. "I see."

"However," she continued, "This is something I would be honored to support myself. If nothing else, I would do so alongside a few other interested parties, but if I obtain approval through RLTT, then I would like to handle the entirety of the associated financial burden."

The older woman only smirked, idly fingering the bangle on her arm. "And Rhea Lowe, whoever she is, does already favor me."

"Indeed," Relena agreed, looking faintly amused… then pausing.

Her newfound friend frowned. "What?"

Relena frowned too, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I was just surprised… Can I see that for a moment?"

Delilah shrugged when the princess gestured at her jewelry, and deftly pried it off with a proud smile. "Ah, of course. It was a gift, when RLTT was preparing to withdraw from the Foundation. One of my favorite pieces."

"It's lovely," Mai offered, moving to stand closer to her charge as she took the bracelet. She was right in guessing it as a heavy yellow gold, and hammered, with a purposeful ripple to its surface, giving it a natural look. What she had missed before, however, was an inlay of rose gold in its surface, in the pattern of a bird. I've seen that design before. Where was escaping her, but it was pretty enough; all stylistic, flowing lines.

"The best part is on the inside," the blonde woman insisted with an indulgent smile, but Mai noticed that Relena had already begun turning it over to look before Delilah said anything.

oOo

'The best way to predict the future is to make it. – Alan Kay'

oOo

Relena was just staring blankly at it. "Lena?" Mai whispered in concern. It was just a piece of jewelry.

The princess seemed to shake herself out of her funk and offered Osborne a bright smile as she handed it back. "Thank-you. I just… well." Shaking her head a little, she reached behind her head and unclasped her necklace before handing it to the other woman as well. "Look."

Mai resisted the urge to flinch. Willfully. Not that she expected any real danger from the woman in the office with them, but she had never seen that necklace off of the princess' neck, and for good reason: it was a locator beacon, and while Jake was gone, he had left her in charge of the tracking algorithm. It was obviously fine to show it off for once, but why the hell-

"They're identical," Delilah murmured appreciatively. "Well, mine's not so utilitarian, but…" She offered them a wry smile. "I have always loved to showboat a bit. It suits you." She carefully handed the necklace back before putting her bracelet back around her arm. "And I must say that RLTT has taken a greater shine to you than me; I didn't get mine until almost twenty months after I had been a candidate. You really must have impressed them."

Relena looked distant as she refastened the clasp and tucked the pendant back under her shirt. "I hadn't thought of it that way, but… Have you met any other candidates before me?"

"No. They never caught my interest, to be honest; before now, we've been in separate enough fields of interest that I hadn't tried. Why?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if any of the others had something of the like," she returned dismissively. "It had never occurred to me before, that it might be a specific design."

"Me either," Delilah admitted. "Though it would make sense, for it to be trademark."

"It does echo the Fund's ideals rather eloquently, doesn't it?" Relena returned, standing. "Well, it's been a pleasure having you over, but I'm afraid time flies no matter what I do to try and slow things down."

"It has a way of getting away from you," the older woman agreed, standing herself. "Do let me know when you hear back from RLTT. Or would you like me to write up an official proposal for you to forward first?"

Relena shook her head. "I'll mention it in a note today, and see what they say first. Whether or not they're interested, I'll be in touch within the next few days to iron out the details."

"Excellent. I look forward to speaking with you again."

"And I as well."

As soon as the sound of the nightingale floors faded behind Osborne and Lincoln, the princess fished her necklace back out and focused those intensely blue eyes of hers on Mai. "Jake had this necklace made for me."

"I know." And she could see for herself that the design was exactly the same.

oOo


oOo

August 27th 198 – Wednesday – Amsterdam, Netherlands

Amos shifted his backpack as he left the building, debating what he could get up to that afternoon. For once, he had no homework, and while normally that would mean he went straight to the shop, he wasn't entirely sure what Kay and 'Liss were up to right now; if they'd want him to make himself scarce. Though really, he supposed if they were hunting down any clues, that would mean they'd appreciate it if he'd keep shop hours for them… But he couldn't remember if there were any jobs that they would trust him to work on without one or the other over his shoulder, right now. Rina was off today, so he wasn't on baby duty at least-

"Hey, is that your girlfriend?"

The orphan scowled and smacked hard at his friend, who snickered while he mostly dodged – enough that Amos only brushed him, at least. Rolling his eyes, he focused over towards the gate, about to ask why Nolan thought the his friend would show up here of all places…

And that was Marlé.

Frowning, he picked up his pace, hurrying over to the girl. She was young enough that he doubted it was a problem, but this was not the week for strangers to wander the Devils' quarter. "Hey."

She tucked her phone away and smiled brightly at him. "Hi. I was bored and in the area, so I thought I'd see if you were busy." Tilting her head a little – he suddenly realized he was still frowning, she added, "If you are, I can get lost. My brother's just touring around space with his new girlfriend and I'm bored."

"No!" he protested quickly. "No, it's good. I don't even have any homework today." He really wasn't busy, first of all…

…and with Kasey on the warpath, this was literally the worst time for a foreigner to meander the streets in search of random entertainment, like he suspected Marlé would if he turned her down. "How long are you staying?"

She smiled brilliantly and reached down to pick up her duffel, slinging it over one shoulder. "Odin said he'd be here sometime tomorrow, so just a day or so. I haven't checked into a hostel yet; I thought I'd ask your boss or his wife which ones they thought were good." She patted her bag. "I took the laptop before he ran off, though, so I can show you some of that programming I was telling you about."

That actually sounded really fun. Kasey had been letting him watch as he tinkered and hacked yesterday, but he just went too fast for Amos to really follow. "Okay." He really didn't want her walking alone right now, though; it was a wonder nothing had happened to her on the way here. The fact that she was obviously a girl was probably the only reason why. And if he tried to insist that she let him walk her back to her room and then back again, she'd probably just laugh in his face and do whatever she wanted.

Maybe if he asked Melissa as soon as he saw her, she'd let him set her up above the shop for the night… stay up all night doing stuff, and play hooky tomorrow. Normally he wouldn't ask, but… he couldn't just tell the blonde girl that his hero was having a throw down with some thugs and ask her to never be alone. She was from too much money to get it, and too independent to listen to him, even though he was older. He'd have to check it in with Melissa as soon as he got in, anyhow, but as it was… time for the small talk stuff he'd been getting better at.

"How was your trip?"

"Pretty good," she announced cheerfully, smiling at Nolan as he rejoined them and they headed for the shop. "Ran into this asshole a couple blocks over from here, but I handled it." Her grin probably should have been more predatory than picturesque… but it really wasn't. "He was really hopeless with that knife of his." She shook her head. "I don't remember the neighborhood being this rough, but do you think I'd really get in trouble if I started walking up high again? Most people don't really look up."

On second thought, this might not be what most people thought was small talk.

oOo


oOo

"Terrell said he sold him doses for a kid's weight, von Koll," Adrian muttered defensively. "It's tasteless with girls, but kids? The boys might have overdone it a bit, but I'm not punishing anyone over it."

Duo nodded absently even as he tried not to sigh in frustration, and toed the corpse. 'Overdone it' was a bit of an understatement, but if he'd had less of the facts than he did, he couldn't really say he would have done differently. Well, no, he liked to think he'd have been smart enough to follow the big man back to wherever he was staying, to find the damn kid, but truthfully, this kind of purchase was generally made before a grab, not after.

So the question was, was this guy one of the people who nabbed Fergusen's daughters, or some unrelated scumbag? He'd snapped a picture of his face already and was intending to see if anyone knew who the hell he was… But that kind of result probably wouldn't come back as fast as he needed, especially if he was involved. But if he was one of these guys…

They had been so clear-cut, professional. They should have already had any drugs they needed the keep the girls quiet – with this shit, knocked out cold. If this was his guy… something had gone wrong, and they were compensating.

So, what could make them need more of the drug?

It getting lost or destroyed was extremely doubtful, with this caliber of agent, but not impossible. Shit happened when you least expected it. But it was more likely that for some reason, they had needed more than originally expected. So why? His first guess would normally either be tolerance or some other physical factor, but if it had been him planning for something like this, he would have had more than enough for that kind of discrepancy, so long as he wasn't dealing with someone freakishly Heero-like. Not to mention that Fergusen's girls were petite little things, and they sure as hell had never been exposed to the class of drug being used. So…

They had needed more, unexpectedly. It sure as hell wasn't a safe thing to be on for more than a couple hours at a go, and any past victims whose parents had coaxed them into telling the cops their details – police records security was such a damn joke, really – had reported that they were blindfolded and sometimes gagged for most of their time under the knife. They usually only drugged in spurts, for transport or before they were left to be found at the end of a job.

So for some reason, if he was on the right track with this guy being involved, then they'd had to break that pattern. Which they never had before. Which meant that something had gone wrong with their plan on how to keep the girls isolated…

Hm. He might be pissing in the wind here, but his gut said this was related, and he'd lost count of how many times listening to his gut had saved him. If he was right… then for some reason, they'd had to abandon their original hidey-hole and go with a subpar option, one where the sound of struggling little girls might reach sensitive ears. Drugging them constantly over a few days sure as hell wouldn't be good for them, but it wouldn't be enough to kill the kids either; necessary evil, if you had, say, planned for an abandoned building, then had to revert to a motel or apartment. And you'd need something like double or triple the amount of meds to pull it off… Depending on how conservative they'd been on their first purchase, at least.

He tilted his head, considering the dead man. He'd been downright stupid, checking the dose with his buyer. He must not be the one who normally calculated that shit out, because that was not information you shared when you did something so heinous. Terrell wouldn't have thought twice about selling the shit if it looked like a typical date rape plan, scummy as that was – it was part of his business, end of story. But doses for, say, a three-year-old? He'd been more than happy to sell, take the fucker's money, then immediately turn around and tell all the local boys what the outsider was up to with a damn fine description of him. Guy hadn't made it three blocks before getting ambushed, and when he'd fought back decently, Adrian's boys hadn't bothered holding back at all. Shit, by the time Terrell had gotten on the phone to call him about it, the guy might've already been bleeding out.

He crouched down beside the body and started rifling through his clothes. "Your boys already go through his stuff?"

Adrian shook his head and spit. "Nah, Terrell was out here almost as soon as it was done, saying you were on the way over. I don't get why you're so interested, though."

Duo shook his head, checking the pants pockets. "Got some kid snatchers I'm looking for. Seemed like it might be a half decent lead." Pulling out his wallet, he flipped it open and considered the ID. If it was fake, it was at least as well done as his own… but he bet it was a fake. He slipped the card out and tucked it in his pocket, making sure that Adrian could see what he was doing, and grabbed the two pieces of plastic in there two – he didn't think he'd get anything tracking the cards, but it might be worth a shot. Nobody wanted the plastic out of a dead man's wallet anyhow – him taking it was no loss to the local boys. There was a good amount of cash too… And he shook his head before tucking it back in and tossing the leather – real fucking leather, in a place like this, this probably was his guy – at the crew leader. "There's a decent bounty in there to split between your good Samaritans," he offered easily. "His rings and chain might be worth pawning too."

Adrian grinned. "Cool." Tossing his prize up in the air and catching it a few times, he frowned. "Kidnappers, huh?"

"Two little girls," he agreed, dropping a lighter, smokes, some coins, and a key on the ground next to him before tugging on the guy's coat so he could snake a hand into its side pocket. "If this is one of them, then they're keeping them close enough to here to walk it, probably." He froze as his hand wrapped around something familiar, and grinned as he pulled out a phone. Cheap, with no call history, but one number saved in contacts.

Unused burner. He whistled lowly, looking back at the dead man and shaking his head. He had to just be the muscle; he didn't know the math for dosages, and he couldn't even memorize the damn number? That was just sloppy. He tucked it into his own coat pocket and quickly finished his search, but didn't find anything else besides the drugs. Not that it mattered much. The phone by itself was a hell of a goldmine.

"All yours," he muttered, standing up. "Sorry to hold things up."

Adrian waved it off, tilting his head and grinning. "You think you got 'em?"

Duo just grinned even broader and waved before sauntering off to the sound of the crew leader's laughter. The faster he got back to the shop, the faster he could track the rest of these fuckers down.

oOo


oOo

Space

"Sir?"

Milliardo looked up from the report he was reading, forcing himself not to squint as his eyes refocused. "Yes?"

"Benay found something he thought you should see, immediately," the private continued, moving forward and offering him a folder. It was sealed, and marked with a stamp that marked it for his eyes only. How interesting. "Thank-you," he murmured, trying to remember exactly what he had assigned Benay to researching… Or was this an entirely random find? He broke the seal as the private showed himself out, and stared at the picture on top, disbelieving.

This… could turn the tables in his favor. Quickly, he set aside the picture and flipped through the accompanying information, running odds and scenarios. He'd need to move quickly, but… He firmed his lips and stood, sweeping the papers back together and moving to the door, heading to the navigation deck. It was time to change course.

oOo


oOo

Amsterdam, Netherlands – New Renew

Duo frowned as he came in the door, turning to Melissa for an explanation. His wife just offered him a grin and bemused shrug in answer, and he huffed out a breath.

There was talking coming from upstairs. A lot of it from a female voice he was getting resigned to seeing more often. M-something.

"I thought you said she wasn't going to stick around," he muttered under his breath. Though with how animated their conversation sounded, he was pretty sure they wouldn't have heard him if he spoke at a regular volume. He was frankly at a loss as to where the hell the girl even came from half the time, and he had yet to actually see her properly.

"The clue in for that would have been back when she bought him a phone," Melissa returned in the same quiet tone. Suppressing a snicker, she added, "Or maybe after the third visit."

"How many times has she visited?"

"Not sure, but I think this makes five."

That sounded about right. "And he only met her two months ago."

Melissa half swallowed another smile as she nodded again meaningfully.

He just sighed again. Right then, now was as good a time as any, and he'd left the computer upstairs anyhow. "Okay. Right. Any advice?"

She clicked her tongue at him in something just shy of exasperation. "You're busy," she reminded him. "And she's twelve. Just don't be an idiot."

Great. Classic womanly advice, right there. Absolutely no way he could go wrong with that, right?

He clucked his tongue right back at her with an annoyed expression to make her giggle and raced upstairs. "Knock-knock," he announced as he reached the landing. "My laptop up here?" He'd been planning on tracking the phone and cards from up here, but there went that idea.

Unless he could kick them out for a couple hours. There was still some daylight left; he could make them go do something.

"Oh, yeah!" Amos agreed quickly, turning to him with a grin, then immediately starting to get flustered. "Oh, you need us out?"

Good kid, Amos. "Just for a little bit," he agreed apologetically. "Maybe an hour or so, so if you haven't eaten yet, that could work."

"Food sounds good," the girl agreed, unfolding herself into a standing position with just enough grace to set off alarm bells.

She walks on top of walls, he reprimanded himself immediately. You already knew her balance was good, calm the fuck down. He was just too high strung from all this kidnapping bullshit. Bringing up an easy smile, he offered a hand to shake. "I always seem to see this or that sign of you, but we've never actually talked," he noted. "I'm Kasey."

Her smile was bright. Her eyes were a very pale blue, but she had a tan that no colony girl could ever boast; spent a lot of time outdoors, then, and he already knew she'd been on Earth for a while, wherever she was originally from. And travels a lot on whim, hence how she ended up here so often. "I'm Marlé," she introduced. "It's a pleasure; it does seem odd that it's taken this long to actually meet, huh?"

Huh. He actually hadn't heard someone tell him it was a pleasure to meet him since Quatre. Well, rich colonial kids, right? Probably went to all the same little prep schools for manners. "Yeah," he agreed. "Sorry about this, just have some stuff to get done before the workday finishes up."

"Of course," she returned happily. "I need to check in at a hostel somewhere too, and it's better to get that over with before sundown."

"About that," Amos cut in quickly. "Can I skip school tomorrow? She's only here a day, and she was going to show me how to get root access on a smartphone."

His brain derailed for a second at that. "Show you what?"

"It's not that hard," Marlé added. "Really useful, too. The tricky part is writing the code to make it so it's easy for you, but not anyone else to pull off on your machine."

…He had literally nowhere to go with that. "Ask Melissa." Had Quatre known this stuff? Probably. He'd built Wing Zero, after all, and he'd definitely been better with computers than Duo. In any case, he was the last person to judge someone about truancy habits – the last time he'd gone to school that was actually school and not an infiltration mission, he'd been, like, eight. He waved a hand at them. "So, give me an hour, I need to get some work done. 'Liss is downstairs. See you later."

"Later," the girl chirped cheerfully, bouncing down the stairs and leaving Amos to follow her.

Duo raised a brow at him, and he swallowed hard, before a stream of Dutch rushed out of him. "If I leave her alone she'll just wander, and that seemed like a bad idea!"

Kid had a point. Also good to know that Marlé couldn't speak Dutch. "Tell Melissa," he repeated in the same language. With that thought in mind he doubted she'd tell him no, but still, the ball was in her court. "Try to make it more like an hour and a half, and I'll be gone by the time you're back."

"Can she sleep here?"

"Ask Melissa," he repeated, exasperated. "Now seriously, get out, I've got shit to do."

oOo


oOo

Cairo, Egypt

It was done. It was finally done.

Thank God.

David rolled his shoulders as he allowed himself to believe it, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted off them. Logically, he'd known before this moment, but… well, he hadn't exactly had the best track record for that kind of thing lately. Until just now, he'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But, at long last, Cambyses was finished. They'd scoured every foot of desert the group had ever even been rumored to inhabit, and had been coming up clean for over two weeks. Realistically there would still be a few stragglers, but they could be handled by a smaller force if they tried to pop back up. Nothing in life was ever a guarantee, after all; you just had to do your best and be prepared to manage any mistakes you made along the way.

Grimacing, he considered his arm. It was fully healed, he thought; he hadn't had any signature bone-deep pain in it for a couple of days no matter how he strained it, but he was having a hard time convincing himself that that was done with too. Of course, that could probably be put down to the fact that his friend was still a ways from fixing himself, but he'd done what he could on that front too… time to move on, right?

He sighed. In any case, it was time to figure out his next top priority. He didn't have enough information on the bombers to track them despite the media splash they'd been taking lately, and frankly, their casualty list was nowhere near as high as some of the others. At least, not yet. There were at least three possible rebel cells apart from Po's people with MS that had started popping up since Heavyarms reappearance, but unless he stumbled across a hell of an opportunity, he was inclined to just hand over any information on them to the main army. It was best to handle MS with MS, after all. That might change with the way everything was getting more and more tied up in space, but for now… Not my business.

The core goals of the Strike Force he was leading involved breaking up the anarchist groups that had been forming up, but after Cambyses, his people could do with a little less hot of a target; he was trying to not burn them out. Something a little more sane or mundane was probably best… and there was plenty of good old "people suck" problems that Relena could use a hand with in northeastern Europe. If they were forming up their own justice set and ignoring the administration, they technically fell under his purview, and the third world mobsters that had developed in that area needed to be handled.

So tonight, he'd sit back and relax a little, celebrate with his people over a nightmare's end. Tomorrow, they could keep going with that a bit while he sorted out details; he didn't care to go in blind.

oOo


oOo

Amsterdam, Netherlands

James looked up as Natalie stormed in, scanning the room like she could scour the grime off the walls with her eyes alone, before slumping. "Shit."

He frowned, setting down his book and about to ask what was wrong, before it clicked that he hadn't seen Anton in too long. He felt his own stomach sink as anxiety rose up. "He's not back?"

His lover sighed. "Unless he's figured out how to turn invisible, yeah." She scrubbed a hand through her hair, leaning back against the doorframe. "We're gonna have to call Ry."

James grimaced. "Well, not until morning." If they were going to make a call, it would need to be from a ways away from here, and it was almost dark. The two of them had been accepted into the local neighborhood, but he was not going out at night, especially if something had happened to Anton.

Hopefully he'd, like, seen a bar and lost track of time, and/or gotten chatted up by a hot prostitute – it had happened before, though not while on a job – or just been too drunk to remember where the apartment was.

He'd never done that kind of thing while working before, but it was within a reasonable range of escalation, especially when things had been so frustrating. That frustration was the main reason James hadn't put up too big of a fuss about Anton being the one to go out for supplies; getting him out of their little cracker box of an apartment for a couple hours would help them all retain some measure of sanity. Besides, he didn't care for the dealer to recognize him, now that he was an established community member; enough shit had gone wrong already, it really didn't need to be played with.

"He's probably just blowing off some steam," he added when Nat was quiet, even as his gut twisted. It was within a reasonable range of escalation… but it was a bit much too, and enough shit had already gone wrong. "If he comes back before sunrise, just… Leave it for after we're done, alright?" The last thing Ry needed was more drama to juggle.

This was probably Anton's last run, though, one way or another. Ry wouldn't put up with that kind of shit, and Anton wasn't the first muscle they'd had, though he was certainly the best, with his intensely private nature. He might be a bit of a moron, but the man had just the right mix of finesse with knives and sociopathic tendencies to be perfect for their line of work. Usually, anyway. In any case, Ryan had a talent for dividing different people's skill sets into a well-oiled machine. They got shit done perfectly and invisibly with him at the wheel, and when everything went according to plan, everyone got what they wanted and moved on with their lives.

The problem, of course, was when things didn't go as planned. Before now, any hiccups had been because of a lack of cooperation on the family's end, and, well… they had rules about how to handle that, and word spread pretty fast. People usually cooperated, these days, and if they didn't, well… That was what Anton was for.

"No," Natalie snapped. "If everything's fine this time, he's going to think it's fine to just do it again. For Christ's sake, this isn't the time for a fucking pissing contest."

He grimaced again and nodded, agreeing for now; he could talk her around once she'd cooled off a bit, and he wasn't in the mood for a fight. He had enough issues trying to chew an ulcer into his stomach; he didn't need to add Nat in a snit to the pile. So far, they were holding it together, but frankly, he was starting to lose his faith. Maybe they'd gotten so settled in that they were losing their ability to improvise. That, or they were getting too old for this shit and it was time to take up a less high-risk profession.

He was starting to think that that hair-raising desire to just bug out on Friday had been more than just the usual pre-game nerves, and he should have forced the issue. Ry would have been pissed, and it probably would have meant James wasn't invited to the next job, but… Maybe he should've anyway. Natalie would've followed him without hesitation; she always did, and in the end of the day, Nat was the only one in their little cohort that he actually gave a shit about.

Thinking about it, the issue was probably that, at this point, they had their parts down by heart. Too damn settled in. That could be a death warrant in work like this, and maybe it made him old to admit it, but… He'd spent and banked enough money to be interested in a little bit less bloody of a vocation. He and Nat had spent enough time posing as a couple over the course of their career with Ry that it had become something in truth, and he'd been debating recently what she'd like as a real wedding ring instead of the handful she traded off using to pose with.

He bit the inside of his cheek, turning his mind away from that little internal debate – he'd been chewing on it for a good three months, it could damn well wait until they were in the clear – and focused on when things had begun to go wrong.

It had been the same as always, at first. The two of them had come and set up, just like usual. By the time Ry and Anton were due in town, everything was ready to go: the new couple would disappear – because he'd lost his job, or she had a sick relative, some other common, convincing circumstance – and a few days later, James would break the security system so he and Anton could make the grab and Nat would play wheelman while Ry ran any interference, kept things smooth.

Well, attempted to, at any rate. Ryan had been on standby at the site while they took the girls, ready to bring them in safe, but some fucking gang had moved into the warehouse in the middle of the heist. They'd had to rearrange their plans from the fucking car, toss the kids in some suitcases and make up something about Natalie's brother losing his job and moving in with them until he got his shit straightened out.

Their gatecrashers hadn't been the first hitch though. The first hiccup in their usual pattern was the reason he was trying so hard to convince himself that Anton was being stupid somewhere, where normally he'd be as pissed and as ready to write him off as Nat. This neighborhood…

The issue was, they hadn't realized this neighborhood wasn't exactly like every other they had worked in until Friday. On the surface, it was like every other high-grade slum in existence – with all the same problems, avoidance, hostility and posturing, mixed in with a good bit more violence of a fantastically carnal variety just for flavor. It had your typical dance of social cells and gangs, with darkening shades of hostility depending on the block. It was a little unusual in that food and shelter often rose higher on an individual's rubric than vice, but they had seen that before; it just tended to show up in societies where the crushing deprivation was older, more desperate. A month into their stay he and Nat had concluded it was just a mild variation, and the other quarters of Amsterdam were all too far, too dark, or too bright for optimal security. From old census information, the epicenter of this part of town had been the bottom of middle-class's barrel for nearly a century; evidently, Libra had caused a shift in attitude instead of the cataclysm it had just ten miles east.

It wasn't until the day before Ry came in that Karel had, for the first time, given him a genuine smile and offered to introduce him to Chaos. You know, because he could respect James and his wife keeping to themselves so far, being foreigners and all, and living close enough to the edge that he had work outside the area – and it made sense with their talk to move closer to work once they had enough money down – but it was bad manners to ignore the fact that they were living on Devils' ground.

Something in him had broken a little inside, at the realization that all those innocuous little signs, along with a slew of others he hadn't picked up on, were also in common with syndicate territories.

He hadn't tried to hide his surprise; for one, Karel had been watching him like a hawk and he didn't have a great poker face, and for another, the man had been a valuable source of information. Of course he knew about the Devil's Get; they were the biggest gang in the area, but also very... exclusive, in a tight-knit, homespun, church-going way. The thirty or so of them presented an extremely familial front, and while not unfriendly, they were also… aloof. The vibe he'd gotten was that they didn't bother anyone, and in turn, no one bothered them.

Apparently, that impression wasn't wrong, either. They were just so disinterested in those outside their little clique that instead of absorbing and utilizing the assets surrounding them, they had organized them into self-serving, subservient entities. Other than occasionally knocking someone back in line, evidently they left people to their own devices.

Upsetting that they'd missed something so big, and a hell of a sign that he was done after this job, but not actually a big deal, really. For all that he'd fucked up a bit, they knew now, and there was still no conflict of interest. If that had been the extent of it, then he would have just told Karel that it was funny that he brought it up, but the missus had just found them a cheap flat uptown, and he needed to get home to help her try and move their stuff out quick so they could skip on the rent she'd just spent on the deposit.

But no, before he could find a good break to cut in with that, the man had mentioned that he might want to reconsider leaving even after they got their nest egg together, because this was a safer neighborhood than people let on. There were always a couple neighborhood patrols – the kind that carried guns and blades, not just the Militia baton – if you just gave a shout. No one had scared the missus, had they? That wasn't why she barely stepped foot outside the door without him after their first two weeks here, was it? Because if someone had, Karel needed to fix it. No one had been able to vet them for a good three weeks – and fuck, but the chill that ran down his spine at the mention of someone following him to work to see if he wasn't full of shit about his job was cold as ice – and then after that they'd wanted him and the missus to settle themselves out to their inclination, but it had been weeks now, and if his sweet wife Nina was frightened of someone, then he needed to set the guy straight before word got to the Devils that Karel wasn't taking care of his own. It was understandable if whatever it was had happened before they put down roots, but James and his wife weren't outsiders anymore, and there were rules about neighborly behavior.

Rules that had a way of being enforced by bloody blades wielded by Devils in the night if rumors started about an area. Kasey von Koll had a thing about women – should hear what happened to the people who tried hurting his sister, last year.

He'd come very close to walking on the whole project, just then. In retrospect, he was really starting to wish he had.

Instead, he'd frowned and said that she hadn't mentioned anything, but he'd talk to his wife, and agreed to 'something weekend after next' for meeting up with the mysterious Kasey, as he had a few days off this upcoming week and he'd snagged some tickets to the Aries Rising concert in Paris. He was planning to surprise Nina with the news of their little vacation tonight, actually; she had been a little down since the move, you know? Maybe once they got back, Karel could help him find her some friends? Being cooped up all day long wasn't good for her, but he just hadn't known how to go about fixing the problem.

As soon as he'd gotten inside, he'd sat down hard and tried to figure out whether or not they were in over their heads.

After a few hyperventilated calculations, however, and it looked to be fine. Strangers weren't despised, just watched, and the abandoned warehouse they'd set up was out of Karel's area, if not by much. He'd be leaving more of a trail behind him than usual, what with just disappearing after his supposed vacation, but he wasn't worried about it; he had no intention of ever returning to the Netherlands anyway. Disappearing wasn't nearly as hard as people made it out to be in the movies, especially when you hadn't lived by your real name in a good twelve years. As soon as they had the kid, or kids, in this case, he and Nat wouldn't be stepping outside until they were in the clear; if anything needed doing elsewhere, that was Anton's job. Ryan was checking into a hotel across town on the next day, and would handle the parents from there. Unless something hitched up somewhere, there wasn't any need to talk to him until time for the exchange. Anton would go out to send the proof of life on one of the handful of burners James secured.

There was no reason that they'd draw the Devils' attention throughout the affair, and even if they did, all of the stories about them taking issue with someone was over hurting or extorting women, and the lot of them had a downright studious disinterest in attention from authority or politics. The only kids he could find evidence of von Koll giving a damn about were either gang and kin, or the ones that belonged to the church he went to something ridiculous like four times a week. Their extortion of the city's lead politician, if he even noticed it – doubtful – was something the Devils would, as usual, dismiss as not their problem.

And then… he'd had to cancel his theoretical vacation and tuck his surly 'brother-in-law' into his living room. Alongside two cherubically blonde little girls he'd stolen for ransom, but Karel had no idea about that. He hadn't had to fake being irritable as hell about his new company and destroyed plans, and the local branch of fucking Dutch Mafioso was leaving him alone.

But now, not only was Anton either fucking around or something worse, but he wouldn't be able to keep said girls as quiet as he needed to after noon tomorrow. If Anton wasn't back by morning, he wasn't going out to give Ry a status update; he was calling to let Ry know the job was a bust, and they were bolting.

oOo


oOo

August 28th 198 – Thursday – Munich, Germany – Dorothy's Townhouse – 8am

"Oh, Princess!" the man greeted her eagerly. "Um…"

Relena took pity on the man and smiled. "She's still in bed, isn't she?"

His returning smile looked a little pained, even as he swung open the door and gestured her in. "Under pain of death if anyone disturbs her before noon," he agreed wryly. "Even if it is the apocalypse. You're more than welcome to the common areas, however."

Relena shook her head and came in, Mai and Lin and Mars with her. "I suppose some coffee would be welcome," she returned by way of agreement. She wanted to get Dorothy's mind onto the logistics of the Cambyses project – since RLTT had responded immediately in the affirmative – but she supposed it could wait. It wasn't as though she had any shortage of work, and it all traveled with her easily enough. With Jake gone, the only traveling she was interested in was just to Dorothy's decadent little mansion.

And besides, she had a state of the art coffee machine, and the men on her staff all seemed to be professional baristas. There was no denying that the heiress's priorities were periodically very skewed, but in some secret corner of her mind, she'd decided to show up instead of calling the other woman over for the sake of divine nectar.

…Dorothy was a terribly corrupting influence. She hadn't even liked coffee when she first allied with the woman.

The man's look was all too knowing. "Your usual?"

She made a half-hearted attempt to glower at him – which only made the man grin – before sighing. "Yes, please."

"Coming right up," he returned cheerfully, heading for the kitchen. "Lady Dontelaine's in the sitting room, if you wanted to chat."

"Twenty bucks says they were clubbing again," Mai offered brightly.

"No deal," Lin scoffed.

The Australian woman just laughed before moving towards the kitchen herself. "I'm going to go bat my eyes at Alexis to make me some too." She raised a brow at Relena. "We're good, yeah? See you in the sitting room?"

Relena shook her head and waved a hand dismissively. Mai took her responsibility as head of guard while Jake was away seriously, but this was Dorothy's house, confirmed safe ground – Mai wouldn't have been willing to let her out of sight anywhere other than here or Sarracenia. And in any case, it wasn't as though the boys were going anywhere without her.

Alexis. She really needed to start remembering the names of Dorothy's staff.

Olivia was indeed in the sitting room sipping coffee, with hair damp from the shower. "Relena," she greeted. "Good morning."

"Good morning. Did you have fun last night?" It was only polite, after all.

The redhead's smile was decidedly sated. "Of course. You should come with us, one of these days."

Something in her chest panged at the invitation, but she shook her head all the same. "A bad idea for me, I think," she disagreed readily. "All things considered, however, you're up early." She'd come over directly after her morning exercise and bath.

The noblewoman shrugged elegantly. "Certain mornings I'm up with the sun, and others, I'm simply not. I've given up trying to track the logic of it, truly. I feel rested enough for now, in any case." She smiled indulgently as he took another deep sip from her mug. "What brings you here so early?"

Right to work, then. It was rather convenient that her friend was here, actually; she'd wanted Dorothy for the logistical end, but Olivia was much better with the social aspects. "A new RLTT proposal," she began, reaching for her bag. "The financial end is covered, of course, but I need to design the PR angle…"

oOo


oOo

Amsterdam, Netherlands – 8am

Ryan jumped hard and slipped as the shower curtain was thrown open, but before he could catch himself, a strong hand had clamped down on his arm and wrenched him out of the tub, tossing him away. His head cracked hard on the tile and for a second, the world narrowed town to a single point of light, before the blackness edged back out of his vision. Desperately, his brain scrambled for an explanation, but the sudden bloom of pain in his ribs didn't exactly help his swirling head.

"'Liss?" he heard a voice ask. "Find him some clothes, will you? Something nice, if he has it."

Ryan gasped. "How did you get here?" he heard himself ask without really thinking about it.

"I broke in," the man returned casually, squatting down next to him and fisting a tight grip in his hair to pull his head sharply into an awkward angle, meeting his eyes. They were a deep, endless sort of blue. "I don't take kindly to people fucking around in my town, you know. It's disrespectful." He looked away, though even as he did, he threw his head back against the tile, making the world spin again. "Oh, that's perfect, love. Thank-you. Help me get him dressed?"

"Of course," a woman's voice answered. "Roof after this, right?"

"Roof," he agreed. "No one up there for the noise to upset."

He wasn't so far gone for his confusion to stop from sinking into outright terror.

oOo


oOo

Budapest, Hungary

Finally! It was a measly lead, but all the same, Priya'd take what she could get. Katriel Dimardin had turned into an absolute ghost after his stay in the Skyview, but finally, she had managed to get something on the guest he'd met there; Odin Lowe had just boarded a shuttle from L3 to London. Unfortunately, she was too far away to get there by the time he landed… but it was a start. Katriel was covering himself a little too well, and whoever this Odin was, he'd know something.

Time to head back to Western Europe, then. The next tap she got on him, hopefully she would be close enough to respond to.

oOo


oOo

Amsterdam, Netherlands – 10:30am

"Oh God," Nat muttered, staring at her phone.

That… sounded about right. News coverage was all over it, and the body had only been found – obviously thrown off the top of a building – two hours ago.

Blonde, in beige suit liberally splattered with blood… head, hands, feet, and knees all mangled with precision, not from the fall. If he hadn't known that the building the man had been found by was the hotel Ry was staying at and recognized the man's favorite suit, he probably wouldn't have been able to tell who it was. And if the message being sent wasn't fucking clear enough, according to local forums, the gang for that area had been stirred up like a kicked anthill for that first hour… and then abruptly just dropped the whole thing and went about business as usual.

Whatever they claimed, the Devils really were a fucking Dutch syndicate. Organized, thorough, and ruthless, with a lot more fucking resources than he'd credited them to. Cadence had dismissed the entire incident out of hand as soon as it was claimed… and while he still had no fucking idea what had happened to Anton, he could connect the dots well enough.

Cursing, he dug out one of their burners and hit the send on its one contact; Ry had had the other, so his killers ought to have it now. If they could track it, they'd be long gone from this city, this country, before they could get here, and a courtesy call wouldn't be remiss, all things considered. He was glad Nat had talked him into catching an earlier bus and just calling it off now; the longer they stayed, the more likely they'd find themselves dead.

He'd never been so glad that Ry insisted on memorizing the phone numbers ahead of time, and didn't have them saved or written anywhere. It'd probably saved his and Nat's lives.

"Hello?" a smooth male voice answered on the second ring.

"6294 Rokin Avenue, apartment 303, alive and unmarked," he announced without preamble. "Drugs should wear off around noon."

"How kind of you," the man remarked in that same smooth, deadly tone, though a hint of mockery seeped through. He knew perfectly well the corner he'd backed them into.

"Congratulations," James added. "We're done." Hanging up, he tossed the phone into the nearest trash bin and shifted the strap on his backpack before reaching out to take Natalie's hand and offer her a tight smile. "Let's get out of here."

oOo


oOo

L2 – Leia's Condo

It was her day off, and she was sitting by the window with a book when it happened. It was a good thing, really – it meant she realized what was coming a precious few minutes beforehand. Not enough time to escape, but it was valuable time all the same.

When she had seen movement coming into the building's parking lot she had looked up out of reflex, and her stomach had begun to sink deep in her belly as she saw not one car, but an entourage, mostly comprised of police vehicles. She knew what that meant, and was aware of how cornered she was here immediately, but still, she only clutched her phone, not activating it, until a man with a long fall of snowy white hair stepped out of the back of a sedan.

"Aishiteru," she announced sadly, even as she stood and strode swiftly to the door and threw the deadbolt. She set it aside a moment as it began to connect so she could heave her weight against the ornate bookcase she kept in the entryway, sliding it in front of the door, its top just below the handle. It wasn't as fast as she would like, and her body was trembling by the time she had it done, but it would take more time for them to get past than it had for her to put it in place.

Briefly, she debated moving the couch against the door as well, but the call had finally connected and Mariemaia picked up.

"Mom?" Her voice was panicked, and no wonder; she'd activated the emergency protocols.

"Sweetheart, I've been made," she announced, picking the phone back up as she closed her eyes to hold back tears. If she hadn't worried about exactly this happening she wouldn't have sent her little girl away again in the first place, but she had hoped she was wrong, all the same. "Marquise is outside."

"No," her girl breathed, voice vehement even as it began to tremble. "He can't. Mom, you need to get out-"

"No time for that, Marie," she cut off. "I love you; never doubt that. Stay safe. Odin knows what to do. Whatever he decides is best, know that I approve, no matter what it is." She took a deep breath. "I will see you again, darling. However long it takes, I will hold you again when this is over."

Her baby girl's only response was to begin to sob, and she felt the tears begin to stream down her own cheeks.

"I love you," she repeated, and forced herself to take another deep, shuddering breath. "Burn the phones." She needed to destroy hers before the Regime men made their way inside, and she would do so utterly, but it was best to leave no possible lingering ties. Marie had found her once already, against all odds; she could do so again, if it came down to it.

Zechs Marquise would not have her daughter.

"I love you," she whispered once more, heart breaking, but ready to accept that the only response would be the sound of the sobs truly beginning to wrench their way out of Mariemaia's chest. However much Odin had managed to teach her, Marie was still just a child, and she refused to be upset that her capture upset her daughter so. Words were lovely, but they were only words; the tears spoke of her love clearly enough.

"I… I love you too, Mom," she finally whimpered back, and a warm glow spread through Leia's chest even as someone began to knock on her door. She walked swiftly toward the kitchen, ignoring it. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she dismissed softly, not sure why Marie was apologizing, but accepting it all the same. "Stay safe." She swallowed hard. "Good-bye."

Marie's breath hitched dangerously again, but she managed to still say, "Good-bye."

oOo


oOo

Amsterdam, Netherlands – New Renew – Noon

Marlé closed her eyes as the line died, just… ignoring Amos. What he thought really wasn't all that important right now. She could come up with something to tell him in a minute, or, frankly, never, and he could just get over it. For now… right now, she needed Odin, and if this wasn't an emergency, she wasn't sure what qualified.

"Bogey," she muttered into her phone, relaxing her death grip on the device to reach up with one hand and wipe angrily at her eyes. She needed to get it together. Marquise had her mom; he might be onto them.

Odin would know what to do.

"Status?" he asked immediately, picking up on the first ring. She swallowed down all the junk in her throat, trying to get it clear. She'd programmed his phone to sound off like an air siren if she'd ever used that word, and he would've got an alarm from her mom's call too; he'd be worried. Scared even, maybe.

"They've got Mom," she croaked out.

There was a brief hesitation on the other end of the line, then, "You're safe where you are?"

"Yes."

"Stay there and wait for me. I've got a lock on your location, but I'm a few hours out. Destroy your chip as soon as this call ends. I'll do the same."

She swallowed again, nodding. That made sense. "Okay."

He hung up.

God, I need to teach him some phone manners, she groused suddenly. He doesn't even say good-bye, and he answered the phone with 'status'?! Who even does crap like that?

Odin, obviously. She started to shake again, though this time, she wasn't sure if it was laughter or tears. Oh God. They had her mom. Zechs Marquise had her mom.

"Marlé?" Amos asked tentatively.

"I'm okay," she reassured him, however ridiculous an answer that was. "I… I'll be okay," she amended, staring back down at her phone.

Right. The phone. Get it done.

"You got a hammer or something?"

oOo


oOo

Duo scrubbed his hands over his face and around the back of his head once he shut the door after himself, gusting out a deep sigh. He'd called the mayor directly after the kidnapper hung up then gone straight to Karel to follow up, planning to stick to the shadows but still make sure everything went the way it was supposed to. The crew leader had been damned upset about the whole thing, mostly at himself for not seeing it, but it wasn't like you could treat every new neighbor like a villain, and Karel had been careful. These guys had just been good at what they did.

He was pretty sure that even the survivors wouldn't be doing it anymore, though. The way that guy'd congratulated him? It seemed like that was going to be it.

That, and he was pretty sure the fucker he had Melissa work over before they tossed him eight stories was the ringleader. Even if those two were as fucked up as could be in the head, he doubted they'd never come back to his town, and after this, he was also pretty damn sure no one else would be stupid enough to try something similar. As soon as he'd let Cadence know that the whole roof thing was his kidnapping deterrent, the woman leading it had been so thrilled she'd insisted on cooing over him about how he was such a good influence on society.

She'd been entirely genuine, too. While he didn't exactly disagree, all things considered, the implication in that particular attitude really wasn't sitting too well with him.

Then Fergusen had arrived with the police for his daughters, and right after they'd been confirmed as being fine, just as Duo was about to slip away, the man had somehow recognized him and practically tackled him with a bear hug.

It was a minor fucking miracle that his face hadn't been caught on camera. He was stupidly fucking lucky his build and body type were so generic, and that more men had taken to wearing their hair long post-Fall. He'd never been more glad Father Espen talked him into a more local brownish-blonde, because fuck, but rumors were spreading about this.

And the fucking mayor had refused to let him go until he conceded that he owed him a favor, at the very least. The fucking mayor of Amsterdam had publicly, physically harassed him until he agreed that the man owed him a favor!

He couldn't see how his day could get any worse.

Then he groaned as he realized the noise he'd been hearing was not the radio, but that the damn kids were upstairs. Again. Great. Now he had to be social. He considered leaving and just pretending he went straight back to the Den – maybe Melissa would take this one for the team – but he called bullshit on that. Toughen up, you've avoided the kid's friend long enough, that he's going to start thinking you've got a bad opinion of her. And really, girl was a smart cookie; Amos could certainly have done worse, even with how weirdly mobile she was.

…Actually, Amos' tone of voice sounded really upset. Outright freaked. He frowned. What the fuck? He started moving silently up the stairs, straining his ears.

"Yes," a shaky female voice muttered, completely out of sync with his apprentice. His frown deepened. Is she on the phone? A beat later, "Okay." And silence. Amos had stopped trying to talk over her too, finally.

"Marlé?"

"I'm okay," she babbled. "I… I'll be okay."

His stomach sank. Oh crap, what now? Shouldn't have asked if it could get worse. Entirely resigned to his fate, he reached for the door handle-

"You got a hammer or something?"

What?

"What?"

There was the sound of some rummaging, probably through a backpack, and a few clicks. "Um, yeah, never mind, I got it."

What? His hand clenched around the handle, and he began pushing the door open, still trying to be quiet but needing to know what the fuck was going on in his house.

The little blonde girl's face was blotchy from tears as he was treated to the sight of her slamming the back end of a screwdriver into a sim card, snapping it into a handful of pieces. Nigh instantly afterwards she noticed him, and red-rimmed eyes narrowed as they met his, then widened in horror.

Good. Whatever the hell was going on, it did not need his input. In fact, he was perfectly fine with tossing it out of his town too. He was good at that lately. "Get out," he snarled.

Her eyes hardened, and her mouth set in a grim line. "No."

He felt his own expression stiffen at that. "Get. Out. Of my. Fucking. House!"

She took on a more desperate look. "I can't."

Just his fucking day.

oOo


oOo


Finders Keepers


oOo


Collision course set!