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Chapter Eighteen
Disclosure
Alternate chapter title:
Trolling for Truth
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Solving your problems has a way of opening you up to all new ones. In the aftermath of big revelations literally everyone but the usual suspect (Jake) freaks out - but the more things change, the more they stay the same. Des browbeats everyone into getting over themselves, Marie makes more friends, space battles abound, and there's something ominous creeping in the background.
Also, Odin might be having a little too much fun trolling people.
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Old note:
Here we are again!
So when I started up this chapter, I had a plan. It was long, complicated, and detailed – super organized and everything. I impressed both my betas with it, and we were all really excited.
I got halfway through the outline and found myself staring at 48 pages. FML. Because seriously, again?
There were a couple weeks of denial and thinking it would cool down and go faster, but eventually I caved and admitted it had to be split… and this was suddenly the 'Secret's Out!" chapter instead of "Ignition Sequence", and I was like, "Well, okay, so now I have to transition this into the action of what was originally supposed to be the second half before it can post" and added a handful of scenes.
14 pages later… *sighs* I give up. Apparently they're all just going to be monsters from now on. But hey, 5-6 weeks for turnaround is better than it had been, right? Plus beta time, because this was a real beast for them too. And it's still a 62 page chapter that runs over 37k words and has some pretty fantastic lines and revelations. I hope you enjoy it – please let me know what you think. It's pretty obvious by now that you're getting the next part no matter what you do, but feedback does spur the muses into overdrive.
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October 28th 198 – Monday – Antwerp, Belgium
"Ah, no," Quatre dismissed, taking the folder from the man and moving back to his seat. "If you could give us maybe half an hour I'll likely have questions by then, but I'd like to look over my client's current portfolio before discussing options."
"Of course," the bank attendant agreed quickly. "Is there anything I can get for you gentleman in the meantime?"
"Coffee would be nice," Quatre admitted in a distracted way, opening the thick file as he sat back down at the head of the table. "Two cream, no sugar. Odin?"
"Coffee," he agreed, turning away from the fire and taking the chair to Quatre's left. "No cream. Sweet – any flavors are good." He hadn't had one of the flavored syrups he didn't like yet, and it seemed like everyone had them.
"Of course! I know just the place."
Quatre snorted once the door had shut behind him. "I thought he'd grab something from the employee lounge – now I'm almost afraid of what he'll come back with."
"There's a coffeehouse two shops over; most of the employees we passed had something with their logo on it."
"Ah, I missed that," his friend admitted, frowning down at the paper and flipping a page before raising his brows. "Huh."
"What?"
"Give me a minute; I want to be sure I'm actually reading this right." His frown deepened. "Actually, give me a pen and my notebook?" He flipped another page, skimmed it quickly, then two more. "I want to run some shorthand."
Odin shrugged and opened the professional-looking leather satchel they'd brought. It wasn't a very useful bag – the depth was impractical and seams didn't look like they would support much weight – but he'd dismissed it as a prop when they'd decided to introduce Cat as his lawyer. Though with the way it was carefully packed with odds and ends he knew only saw occasional use, and the way the pen loops were creased with age, he was starting to think the other man might be genuinely attached to it. Shaking his head, he pulled out the notebook and one of the more battered pens, flipping to a fresh page before passing them over; Quatre took them and started writing without looking up.
While he waited, he eyed the room they had been ushered into after he'd presented his new identification and reluctantly allowed them to both swab the inside of his cheek and prick his arm. He'd watched them run the tests and immediately destroy the samples, and been able to confirm that the profile they were comparing him against wasn't identical, but evidently close enough to confirm who he said he was. Kin. Odin? Or someone else? That…
HTD had said he had other surviving kin, but he hadn't opened that file yet. Odin had said he would be alone.
Jack Odin Lowe. Born August 11th 179. Marie's suggested birthday for him was remarkably close – only six days later – but while he hadn't been sure he had the birth year right… He'd assumed he was younger, not a year older. His mother's name had been Rhea, and their guess had been right there, too – HTD had been able to pull up a copy of her death certificate, and it had the same date.
He was, technically, a citizen of Earth – he'd been born in California, San Francisco. The office had immediately offered to file the paperwork so he could retain dual citizenship, given his cover – taken in by Cerise and Keilan Burton of L1 in 190, four years after they had adopted a newborn girl they named Audi. Quatre had built a believable trail to support the story, including his reappearance with Audi two years after the couple's death – when, by L1 law, he would have barely been old enough to assume legal custody of his sister.
Instead of drawing out a proper timeline, they had shown glimmers of the skills that anyone who might remember him from his childhood might know about, going so far as to include details suggesting they had been in places that Heero had been during the war; they even implied that he had briefly hired on with the mercenary company he had later become the sole survivor of. According to this, his leg injury had occurred with suspiciously close timing to shadier bank deposits there, though the official story was again a car accident. Quatre had amused himself by adding the two of them to the list of those who had gone to Sanc seeking asylum from the wars after his crippling injury, and supplied evidence that they had stayed on Earth after the Fall despite colonial citizenship to continue his rehab in full gravity – allowing it to heal better, more strongly, than if they'd returned to space.
'Give them something to 'discover' you're hiding behind enough resistance, and they will pat themselves on the back and stop looking for anything deeper,' his friend had explained. 'If a seasoned trauma physician sees your leg he will almost certainly know those scars are from a mobile suit injury; better to treat this as an opportunity to flesh out your subterfuge and make this feel real than risk being caught in a lie you haven't prepared.'
In truth, the Burton family of three had disappeared while on a vacation in L2 in the summer of 192, with credit card transactions indicating they had been within the blast radius of a 'terrorist bombing' that had almost certainly been an Alliance hit on a political dissident.
…He wondered how much of the current string of bombings were the same kind of maneuver. The second profile, he was nearly certain, was an agent of Romefeller. The first, though… Well, that was the reason he supposed Duo was intent on expanding his influence. What he was developing would give him advance warning, which he insisted was the purpose, but…
Duo had always been good at believing whatever he wanted. Good at convincing others to go along with it too – he was honestly a little curious to see what would happen if he just stood back and let the other man work.
The little conference room they sat in was only meant for perhaps five people at the most, and was more… Romefeller, he supposed, than most of the bank. He was enjoying how comfortable his chair was, but it was practically an armchair – at a table clearly meant for meetings. The wood was an unusual grain too, rippled in a way he hadn't seen before, colored an unusual shade of red he thought might be natural. There were no windows – they were deep in the interior of the building – but a small fireplace was set into the wall behind Quatre with an overly detailed stonework mantle. A painting sat above it, a portrait of someone he didn't recognize – likely a founder of the bank instead of a political statement – in a gilded frame, and there was another hung on the wall across him. Some sort of country landscape – maybe someone thought it was soothing? A large, plush rug covered most of the tile floor that he had seen throughout the rest of the bank, and the walls met the ceiling in a series of curved arches that continued in a nonsensical pattern dotted with more paintings overhead. All genuine paint, not prints, and a small but genuine crystal chandelier hung over them, panes sending prisms spiraling across the room's shadows as the fire flickered.
He hadn't been expecting this, exactly, but he wasn't stupid – he had a pretty good idea as to why Quatre was taking so long to summarize the holdings of the accounts that Odin had left for him.
The number of digits in the account HTD had directed him at had been impressive enough, but after arriving at the bank they'd learned that it was apparently only an intermediary between stock and multiple other long-term high-yield interest accounts that, when reaching a certain limit, had funds funneled back into buying more stock and increasing the overall passive income. Also, that it was only one of several such accounts serving the same purpose.
The concepts were easy enough, but once they started talking about investments he was glad Quatre had insisted on coming – his only experience with large amounts of funds had to do with laundering, and it was frustrating to realize how much of the vocabulary was new.
Yet another thing he hadn't known existed let alone understood, after his time under Dr J. The more time that went by, the more he realized just how much of a cocky brat he'd been when he was fifteen.
Fifteen. I really was fifteen when I fell to Earth. Sixteen by the time he fell again with Libra, when Quatre had dragged him out of Wing Zero's cockpit and helped him set off the self-destruct sequence, seventeen when he'd started putting himself back together in Jerusalem, eighteen when he'd begun teaching Marie to shoot… Nineteen when Lucrezia had taken him out for drinks before they headed for South America.
It was a small detail, and one that shouldn't have mattered, but… It felt like it did? He wasn't sure what to do with it, and it made him disinterested in the prospect of opening the large electronic file HTD had offered him for his known history before his disappearance.
Because he'd been nine, not seven or eight, when Dr J recruited him into the Barton Foundation and he hadn't been able to think of a reason to say no. He'd been nine years old, and hadn't really thought he had a name.
He'd… said yes to J because he hadn't been able to think of anything better to do.
But HTD said he had surviving kin. Odin had apparently gone to great lengths to set him up financially despite abandoning him. If he had followed his father's advice and stayed, tried to blend into society on L3-X18999 instead of taking matters into his own hands, what would have happened? Had there been other contingency plans in place that he had never considered?
…Would someone have taken me up the way I did Marie? With care, instead of turning me into a tool?
The idea made his stomach twist. He didn't want to think about it.
He only had… maybe three years of memory, from before Odin died? Truthfully, even that was a generous estimate.
Quatre had said something before about trauma – had grown uncharacteristically still when he admitted to actively trying to forget the retraining. He'd delicately suggested that repressing memory might be a method that had worked successfully in response to something else when he was young… But the lack of information tangled everything else in his mind in insane ways, made him doubt himself because he didn't know why.
But what if it was better to forget? It wasn't that he didn't remember the retraining, exactly – he still knew what had happened, he just… didn't remember it happening anymore. He could lay out the events clinically, but it was as though he'd watched a vid on the subject or read the reports; he couldn't remember it anymore. Not without effort, at least, and the last time he had, well…
He'd wondered if slipping the chute bag off his back would make the weightless freefall last any longer, feel any freer.
He'd been relieved at the excuse Dr J was giving him to hit the button, and… dismayed at how much less it had hurt to land, skin searing but wet and clammy as he bled out, than it had to have his shoulders dislocated and head slammed into a wall for backtalk.
It… hadn't been fair. What had been the point, if it was so much easier to just die?
He hadn't started to realize that 'retraining' was just a word for 'systematic desensitization via torture' until Marie had asked him how he'd gotten his reflexes so fast and he realized that he didn't want to tell her it was because burns hurt. Most of his injuries hadn't left permanent damage – his medical care had only been the best, to keep him in the best pre-mission condition-
He'd shrugged and told her something about practice that she'd nodded at seriously and taken to heart.
Better, that way. He didn't care if the retraining had conditioned him in a way that had allowed him to endure Operation M and the war that came after, if it had been the deciding factor in his survival – if anyone threatened Marie with even a fraction of what Dr J had put him through, he would kill them.
Without regret.
The affirmation was soothing in a way he couldn't explain.
Follow your emotions. Maybe by focusing on what he could change, what he could prevent and protect, the past would become less… disturbing. Maybe he hadn't let himself feel so he could get through it, but now that he could again, that didn't mean he had to. He could just keep moving forward like always, and look back on what he hadn't had the power to change with the knowledge that he had done the best he could, and do better in what came next?
"Odin?"
"Mm?" He'd been staring at the refractions in the panes of crystal, he realized.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but if you're going to do that, get my damn gum out of the zipper pocket," Quatre grit out.
What? He reached for the bag and found the packet, considering the label as he handed it over. "Nicotine?"
"It dampens things," his friend returned vaguely, popping three pieces out of the foil without ceremony and starting to chew. "Smoking's better, probably to do with saturation, but I can't do that in here." He sighed deeply and looked up, meeting his eyes with deep concern. "Are you okay?"
…What? "Yes?" He was missing something.
Quatre's features relaxed a little. "What were you thinking about?"
He frowned. "Why?"
"Because you were just-" Quatre's eyes narrowed. "You… don't know. Do you?"
"Know what?" He was going to have to be more specific. Quatre was reacting to something. 'Don't take this the wrong way, but if you're going to do that-' "What did I do?"
"I…" He looked stunned now, and almost like he wanted to start laughing. "Wow, you really…? Ah. I'll tell you later, I guess. I just… thought you knew. You've always acted like you did."
...Well, that was enlightening. How did people use so many words without saying anything at the same time?
Quatre barked out an abrupt, bright laugh. "Wow. Ah…" He chewed a few more times before clearing his throat and gesturing at the papers in front of him. "This is really impressive."
"I was getting that," Odin agreed, shifting closer to try reading what the other man had written.
"The account manager has taken good care of… Well, I guess it's your inheritance," Quatre continued. "Exceptionally good care, actually, to the point where it's suspicious and we might want to dig up what we can find on him later. But either way, the only recommendation I have short-term is to liquidate one of the CD accounts that's up for review – it's not one of the more impressive ones anyway – then start rearranging the active accounts the same way we had been everything of mine. We should have the original accounts closed once we transfer all the rights to new ones today to make sure the old manager doesn't have access anymore but…" He shook his head. "You're…" He let out a helpless sort of giggle. "Financially? You're basically Winner Corp."
Huh. That was a much more generous estimate than they'd anticipated, but at least it was in the realm of what Quatre was used to working with. "So not bad."
"You're not following," Quatre insisted, voice lowering. "Before the Fall, the Winner Corp. was a conglomeration of businesses spanning across generations, both in space and a good portion of France and Africa, mostly focused in engineering and resource mining. The Winner family only held the controlling interest of the company due to majority shares and the original charter which included a primogeniture inheritance clause." He paused for emphasis, tapping the expensive table with one finger. "You are now equivalent to the Winner Corporation." His lips twitched in an involuntary sort of smile. "So, maybe the Barton Foundation is a closer comparison."
The Barton Foundation had funded Operation Meteor – all the gundams from inception to launch – in its entirely. "Really."
Quatre still looked like he was fighting laughter as he nodded slowly. "You know how we were talking about the possibility of buying and diversifying a major airline carrier or shipping company?"
Building a support network to move people and supplies easily around multiple continents abruptly climbed to the top of their list of goals once he'd gotten Melissa's distress call. So far, they had been using the money Quatre had been able to drain from various old accounts he'd had before the war on a mix of public real estate and business interests to help cover his men from Cambyses. They had been discussing alternate means of revenue, but once Odin had admitted that he was relatively sure he'd inherited something at least somewhat substantial, it had made sense to take that into consideration first. Ideally, they would be able to obtain decent access to if not outright ownership of a transport company or two and enough funding to apply towards rebuilding at least one gundam, since things were moving back in the direction of MS battle. Lucrezia was limited by both her man and firepower – if he could back her on the field-
"You already own eighty percent of Knightly Interstellar," Quatre informed him bluntly. "And sixty of Hideki Robotics, and are a major silent partner in-" He gestured jerkily over the file in front of him. "I'm not nearly done reading through this yet, but it's about as insane as your usual run of things, okay?"
Odin laughed. He really shouldn't be surprised, but… Well, it was all good news. They could… "Sky is the limit, then?"
His friend smirked, turning back to the papers. "No reason to stop there," he returned as he picked his pen back up. "The account manager though, Jacob Miller – we need to look into him. This is beautifully crafted, incredibly diverse, and frankly so squeaky clean that I'm not sure it's possible for him to not intimately know exactly where to avoid dirty business. I've had the file for less than ten minutes, and already it seems a little too good to be true."
Quatre pursed his lips, then stood up and reached across the table for the memo pad with the bank's logo embossed at the top that had been left there. "Here," muttered, sliding his notebook back towards Odin. "I'll explain once we're somewhere secure, but for now I need you to focus on something. Start up a wish list, or draw diagrams, an idea map, write poetry, it doesn't matter, just… focus on something for me."
He didn't seem to notice that he'd given him the pen back as well, but was already focused on the file again, eyes darting from line to line, absently tapping at the pad with one finger in thought. "Poetry."
"You're young and in love," Quatre returned in a distracted tone, eyes never stopping as he turned another page. "Pretty sure that's the starting requirement."
He fought the urge to snicker. "I can't write an essay properly."
"No?"
"Not with a passing score. Audi's…" They didn't know if there was any surveillance here. "I don't explain things well. Something about sentence structure. Audi says it's weird." Leia had tried to explain a lot more, but he still didn't see what the problem was. He got the point across.
"I don't think English is your first language; that's probably why."
"It's my primary language," he pointed out, curious to see if the other man's focus would shift if they kept this up.
"And before Odin died, what did you speak?"
"It was location dependent."
"So what did you speak when it was just the two of you?"
"…It was location dependent," he repeated, more slowly this time.
Quatre tsked at him, flipping another page. "And when you went somewhere with a language you didn't know?"
"I couldn't talk until I did."
He stopped and looked back up at him, eyes narrowed. "What?"
"Until I understood what I was hearing enough to say it back, I wasn't allowed to talk."
"So, what, if you tried anyway he just…?"
He didn't remember ever trying anyway, but it had probably happened at some point. "Pretended he didn't understand, I think." He tipped his head to one side, thinking back. "The longest I ever remember it taking was three weeks."
But… back to the issue of just how much memory was missing.
"The longest you- How many languages do you speak?"
That wasn't accurate. "I know more than I can speak," he pointed out quickly.
"Well, that's the first step in learning, so yes, okay, but how many?" Quatre demanded.
He… "Do dialects count?" Quatre opened his mouth, and another thought occurred to him. "What makes them different from each other? Where's the defining line?" That was something that had always bothered him.
"…I have literally no idea how to answer that. How many do you understand?"
It… "I'm not sure how long it's been since I've found one I didn't," he admitted.
Quatre's expression was a mix of incredulous and… something like when he impressed Marie. "You're kidding me."
"I don't know where I haven't been," he found himself defending quickly. There were holes in his memory, he was almost two years older than he'd realistically guessed, and he didn't know but there had to be places he'd never been to.
He just… didn't know where they were.
Quatre groaned, dropping his face heavily in his hands. "Oh my fucking… You're serious."
"I can't speak most of them," he added. "Or read." He was illiterate for anything with Gaelic, Arabic, or Asian roots, aside from Japanese. Cyrillic, he could mostly make out – well, Russian, at least. It still took him too long to be of much use, though. Most of the time it was easier to just snap a picture and use a text to speech program.
"I'm not sure if I'm impressed or disgusted," Quatre grumbled, face still covered. "That's… so slapdash."
"Effective, though." Odin shrugged, looking down to the notebook and flipping to a fresh page. "What's the point of poetry, anyway?" Marie didn't get it either.
Quatre sighed, dropping his eyes and focusing on the file again. "'Anything too stupid to be said is sung,'" he announced, sounding like he was quoting someone. "It's artistic license to articulate yourself poorly and call it beauty."
Huh. Songs are poetry, aren't they? He grinned, considering what else he'd said. "I'm young and in love?"
"Something like that," the other man grumbled. "I don't know. Shut up, please."
He grinned broadly enough that his face ached – he'd been wondering how long Quatre would tolerate banter. He didn't seem to have noticed the lack of a pen yet, but he was reading too fast now to really take notes… And Quatre generally only took notes out of habit, not need. He wasn't sure if he had noticed that yet, though, so…
He shrugged and considered the blank page. It had been a while since he had seen a rendering of Wing Zero's fusion reactor; he wondered how much of it he could call up from memory.
oOo
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Amsterdam, Netherlands – Airport
"I still can't believe you actually watch that crap," Priya groused. "It's…" She stopped, realizing Taylor wasn't next to her anymore, and spun. "Tay?" She couldn't see him anywhere, and her stomach dropped. "Tay!"
"Just… a minute…"
His voice was weak, but she could see a disturbance in the crowd now and she dropped her carryon to dart for it, shoving people aside as she went. Fuck. She didn't think Tay had had an attack like this in years, and with the delays they'd had to deal with due to the Regime's new blockades, they'd only just gotten to Earth. Freddy was so damn protective of him for a reason. "Move!" she snarled at someone who wasn't getting the hint, throwing her weight into it – not that it meant much, she was not a big person, damn it all – and stumbled to her knees as she broke through the instinctive little circle of gawkers next to the older boy. "Tay?"
He looked a little dazed, but despite how zoned out his eyes were as he stared up at the ceiling, he halfheartedly smacked at her hand when she reached to check his pulse. "Just give me a minute," he grumbled. "'S fine, just… whoa." He reached up with one hand to shove his hair out of his face. "That's new…"
"Is everything alright here?"
Priya looked up at the security guard with wide eyes, scrambling for an excuse, trying to remember what Courtney had said the last time this happened while she visited-
"Yeah, ah…" Taylor swallowed, blinking a few times and focusing up at the man. "I think… Blood sugar?" He looked back to Priya, and the bright intelligence normally in his brown eyes was back, along with a hint of mischief. "When was the last time I checked my sugar? With the time change, I think, maybe…?"
The little shit was conning her out of the last Sonic, apparently. He was such a sore fucking loser – it wasn't like they couldn't get more, but he'd lost the last hand on the shuttle and it was technically hers. "Oh my God, you didn't-" she huffed out half tearfully as she tugged her knapsack off her shoulder and ripped it open, digging for the energy drink she'd won off him fair and square. "I can't believe you," she wailed for the benefit of the crowd as she popped it open and shifted to get an arm under his shoulders and help him sit up so he could drink. She'd planned to pinch him while she was at it, but the way he immediately slurped at the rim before he was fully upright, settling back on one elbow instead and squeezing his eyes shut as though disoriented made her debate how much of this was actually an act.
His hand shook as he reached up to stabilize the can and take a larger gulp. "Sorry," he muttered under his breath. "I got it."
She ignored him and kept holding the drink, shifting onto her butt and pulling him half into her lap, one leg behind his back. "You're freaking me out, here."
Tay gusted out a sigh and dropped his head down on her thigh, blinking his eyes back open. "Sorry," he repeated at a more normal volume. "I just need a minute, then we can get out of here."
The airport security guard looked relieved, but half like he wanted to argue at the same time. "You sure? I can get a paramedic over here pretty quick."
Tay made a face. "Nah, I know what happened; I just got stupid," he insisted. "I've had this my whole life, you know?" He offered the man a self-deprecating smile, relaxing more fully against Priya. "Just got excited and lost track of time." Puffing out another breath, he reached for the drink again, and she helped him take a more controlled sip this time.
She felt the guard's eyes tracing over them, taking in Taylor's white blonde hair and alabaster skin, so much paler than her own. "First time to Earth?"
He snorted. "That obvious, huh?"
The guard shrugged, squatting down next to them – probably so they'd feel a little bit less like he was looming. "The gravity change might be a part of this too," he offered. "We see this sometimes; it can do tricky things to your blood pressure until you're used to it."
They'd known that, but he'd seemed fine after they had landed, and she'd made him sit down once they were out of shuttle for a few minutes, then window shop with her for another ten before they'd made their way over to customs. He'd been breathing a little harder than usual, but that was part of the normal acclimation period.
"Alright," Tay agreed, nodding and sitting up a little more, hands on the ground behind him. "Thanks."
The man frowned. "You're sure you don't want me to get someone? It's not a big deal."
"I'm good," Tay insisted firmly. "The soda will cover me until we can get something to eat, I'll check my levels…" He offered him another self-deprecating smile. "I know the drill. Sorry for the fuss."
Priya grimaced. "Are you okay for a minute?" she asked. "You scared the crap out of me; I have to go get my bag."
"Let me," the guard offered immediately, standing again. "What color is it?"
She made a face. "Black," she admitted. "Wheeled. It has my tags, though: Priya Valente. It's not far…" She grimaced, gesturing, "That way, I think?"
"I'll find it," he returned agreeably. "Look after him."
She waited until he was out of sight again before growling, "What the fuck, Tay?"
"Cancel our connecting flight," he returned quickly. "He was here. I don't know if he stayed long, but it's hot – can't be more than a few days old. Whatever you had in mind can't be a better lead than this."
She pursed her lips, glaring up at people still staring at them in a clearly unimpressed way so they started to feel awkward and backed off. "I thought," she hissed out, "you said it didn't work like that."
Taylor choked out a hysterical little giggle. "It totally doesn't, but here we are. Damn…" He shook his head, eyes a little cloudy again. "He's… Fuck, when we were kids I was stronger than him, but this, just… Holy shit. Maybe he was spiking – he's worried here, that does weird stuff sometimes – but he saturated this whole area and the only time I've felt echoes like that have been in disaster zones. I didn't think a single person could do that…" He licked his lips. "Though it's… softer? I think it'll be gone in a couple more days, but Priya, this is…"
She felt her mouth tighten. If he's leaving impressions like this wherever he goes, Tay isn't going to be able to stomach tracking him.
He closed his eyes again, smiling a little to himself. "Let's see though… Worry, but not too bad… exasperation maybe, instead? He's calm enough for it… not content, but focused? Intent, yeah…" He tipped his head to one side, then his eyes snapped open as his smile sharpened into a wide grin. "Oh." He started climbing to his feet.
"What?" she asked warily, standing with him, one hand raised as if she could actually catch his ass if he started to fall again. She'd make an attempt, at least – that had to count for something.
"There's a…" He waved a hand in a gesture that made no sense whatsoever. "Come on. Where's your bag? I don't want to lose this."
"Stay still a minute," she scolded, grabbing at the back on his shirt to steady him. "It can wait that long. There's a what?"
He made an irritated noise and repeated the wavy hand motion from before; she rolled her eyes and looked around, glad to see the guard coming back with her suitcase. "Thank-you," she demurred, shooting him a grateful smile.
Tay's eyes were focused again, and he sent the guard a more genuine smile. "Definitely. Sorry for the trouble."
"I'm just glad you're back on your feet," the man returned warmly. "Take better care of yourself."
"You got it. Thanks." He tugged and Priya's wrist. "Come on."
oOo
oOo
Amsterdam, Netherlands – New Renew
"It's just as well," Duo muttered distractedly in Dutch as he eyed the wiring he'd pulled out of an access panel. "Hilde usually needed me to rehash something a few times before I could get into a format that made sense for her; she might have gotten better with a more solid foundation, but this gives me a chance to work out a method with you." He narrowed his eyes and groaned, picking up… whatever it was… and turning it upside down over a trash bin to shake it out. "Fucking mice… How did they even get in here?"
Adam hummed sympathetically. He was trying to be patient – Duo had proven yesterday that he could multitask as he repaired appliances and corrected the boys' homework while asking a long series of almost random questions to gauge how much Adam already knew about explosives. If anything, he seemed to think faster if he had something complicated in his hands, body and mouth working entirely independent from each other. It was something he and Hilde had in common, apparently.
That said, Hilde was a little easier to keep on topic than Duo, and despite how busy she was managing her network and being Po's muscle, it hadn't taken him long to realize she was small fry compared to Deathscythe's pilot. Duo's network might not be as far flung but it was larger and more intricate, and considerably more micromanaged… while he worked full time, taught a couple of kids at university pace, and still seemed to have a life. Often, he did it all while absentmindedly bouncing a toddler who was, as far as Adam could tell, constantly in everything, because both von Koll women had jobs outside the shop.
And he still hadn't seen where they all disappeared to at night; he was only tracking what they did on non-private time.
"Anyway, you have more background," Duo continued without looking up.
"Doesn't feel like it," he pointed out before he could help himself.
The other man snorted. "From what you described, I probably would have done the exact same thing. Without supplies or inside knowledge on how something so camouflaged worked, trying to do anything to that bomb would have been stupid. If you'd been down to five minutes instead of fifteen, maybe, but that's just desperation." Setting the device back on the counter, he added, "Even if you'd been in a high grade bomb suit, with the scale this guy has managed so far? The blast would have killed you." He grimaced. "Or if you got lucky there, the debris would have done the job." Spinning it around, he considered the front… it was looking more and more like some sort of computer. "Besides, you're only interested in shutting shit down – Hilde's hungry for more, and she doesn't take no for an answer. She'll just do something like show up at Libra to play spy without backup instead." He shook his head. "Better to just teach her everything – she's less likely to go get herself dead that way."
He supposed he could see that. And he didn't need to know how to improvise explosions – he had a stockpile of far more stable military plastics if that was a goal he had in mind. "Tools?" he asked, trying to lead the conversation away from tangents.
"Tools and anatomy," Duo agreed. "My supplies are limited, so I can probably only make one blanket, if you can handle the extra weight in your bag all the time-"
"I can get you more supplies." He was probably already sitting on them and just didn't know it, and they couldn't be too hard to get if he wasn't. Duo was primarily limited by his lifestyle.
"So long as you're subtle," he returned in a warning tone. "Too much attention here and I'm fucked."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm not an idiot."
Duo shrugged apologetically, making a face as he jammed his fingers through a slot without resistance. "That's how… Anyway, anything I throw together is going to be… less than seventy pounds? Maybe a lot less, depending on what I can get my hands on, but it actually might be better to see if you can get your hands on a premade blanket, military grade… might be lighter. You're a packrat, and they don't watch those as closely anyway." Picking up a pair of needle nose pliers, he added, "If you can get the supplies, what I'd like to make are some shaped water disruptors… though I'd need a few test runs, maybe give them to you guys and have you set them off somewhere remote and record a few dummies in real practice…"
Adam shrugged. "Make a list."
"Cool. Even that though, it's less portable, wouldn't help if you found yourself like you did with Hilde again, so… Grab the whiteboard? There's a couple of common layouts, and like anything else, the connection points are the weak spots. 'Course, there's anti-tampering to watch for, but we'll get to that..."
oOo
oOo
Amsterdam, Netherlands – Airport
"Well, so much for that," Tay groused, eying the taxi line-up irritably.
"He got a cab?" Priya guessed.
"Looks like." He scrunched his nose. "Damn. I thought we had it."
"Mm…" It was probably a dumb idea, but worth asking? "We could get a cab of our own and ask for a tour of the sights," she suggested. "Get out if you feel something, and go from there."
"It doesn't work like that."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you said that, but you know?" She waved at the building they'd just left.
Tay closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Cars are too…" He shook his head. "Even if it did work, I can't. Amsterdam's seen some major shit lately, and that's just what makes the news. If we get too close to where the riot happened, I could go catatonic; disaster zones are living nightmares, and they last for years. There's still enough echoes in parts of L3-X18999 from that residential collapse in 194 to make me queasy, and most of the people there died before they realized what was happening. A mob that lasted for hours, when everything was strung high as hell before it even went down?" He shivered. "I don't remember the numbers, but the casualties were high, and people got trapped and died slow. And that's only counting the misery, not the rage and violence."
She'd never envied him for his talent, and this was why. "What if we only checked other areas?" she argued. "You said Quatre's mark is lasting for days – we could take our time, go through it sector by sector and stay away from that."
Tay guffawed. "Yeah, but the Dutchman is the nice gang leader in this town. If we had a direct lead I'd grab all my knits and push through it, but Priya, so much of this city is dangerous for me that a search like that would barely touch on anything at all." Sighing, he pushed a hand back through his hair, pulling his bangs off his forehead. "No… If he's leaving impressions like this wherever he goes, we'll find more leads that are safer than this. You said he's been all over the place? Let's head for your original start point. Worst case scenario if we don't get far there, we go around different airports and centers until we find a pattern for places he visits more frequently, then start a search pattern. Just…" He shuddered again. "Not Amsterdam."
Looking back to the main concourse, he pursed his lips. "I'd say we should get surveillance footage, but my timeframe is vague, and we don't even know what they look like."
She narrowed her eyes. "They?"
He scrunched his nose, making that same stupid gesture from earlier. "He was with someone, it…" He waved his fingers as he tried to come up with the right word. "It pulls, there's this weird… resonance going on – echoes of echoes, and there's different emotions attached to it. There was somebody here with him that he's tangled with on a level I've only ever done with my mom, so he has to be important. Maybe whoever it was he met the first time you caught his cards being used in Greece – what were you calling him?"
She perked up. "Odin. The other name for the hotel was Odin Lowe, and he bounced around almost as much, but in different places than Katriel." She'd started to think the two might not have any further business together after all, but it was a moot point since both men had dropped completely off the grid. It was the conclusion that they had both switched to new names entirely that had driven her to seek out Taylor in the first place.
He nodded, eyes distant as he thought. "It might not be the same person as before, but that doesn't really matter. Quatre's using him – or her, I guess, there's not enough of a flavor to really tell – as an anchor, and… I can't even begin to explain how much trust that takes. I love my mom, but I only do it when I absolutely have to, it's weird, and-" He shook his head again, cutting himself off. "I don't know, maybe it's different for him, but it's still a big deal." Turning around, he started heading back in through the automatic doors. "How long was our layover supposed to be, again?"
"Ah, three hours." She jogged a few steps to catch up to him, staying close. She supposed it was a good thing she hadn't taken the time to cancel their tickets just yet.
oOo
oOo
October 29th 198 – Tuesday –Amsterdam, Netherlands – New Renew
The bell on the door jingled as it was thrown open. "We're back!" Audi called out triumphantly. "A few days older and, like, a couple trillion richer!"
Odin met Melissa's eyes as she came in from the garage, wiping at her hands with a rag, and tried to look resigned. The woman grinned at him in response, so he figured he'd done it right.
"What were you doing, again?" Duo called back from upstairs, sounding distracted. In a quieter voice and switching to Dutch, he added, "No, check this again, you're forgetting something."
"Looking up my inheritance."
"Wait, you're serious?" Amos demanded in a shrill voice.
Odin winced, giving Marie a reproachful look. "A little less drama next time, please."
"Sure thing, Jack."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't do that." He didn't care what his birth certificate said, he… No. If that was his name, he was starting to get why Odin had always called him kid or junior, since having two Odins would get confusing. There was something… something bad about the name Jack. Something he didn't really want to look into yet.
He was still trying to wrap his mind around his age, and that Odin might have had plans in place for him if he hadn't immediately left L3-X18999.
…Odin had only ever cared about family. Why wouldn't he have mentioned it?
He wasn't ready to open that file yet. That realization bothered him, but acknowledging it seemed like the lesser of two evils right now. Maybe a couple weeks of getting used to the rest would make a difference, but it was… overwhelming.
I'll get used to it. He always did. But usually it was to bad things, so this?
He wished he could talk to Leia. She'd had good advice the first time he'd brought up the retraining, and talking about it with her hadn't hurt like every time it had come up since. Maybe because she left emotions out of it? But that wasn't really an option anymore. He'd ask Quatre, but if he was feeling it at the same time, that was worse.
Moira, maybe. It would still be tangled, but he didn't think that could be avoided, and she got things instinctually when he had to fight his way through it. He wanted to have a better idea of what he was thinking himself first, but… Well, he hadn't visited in a while. Maybe once we have the foundations laid out, he decided. There was an unimaginable amount of sheer legwork that needed to be done before what he and Quatre wanted could attempt Step Two even with the unexpectedly large boon of what Odin had left him, and they were still neck deep in the planning to build up those foundations...
Which was, after all, why he was here.
"I'm collecting wish lists," he announced as he started up the stairs. "Cat and the guys are tackling the economic end, but I need more information before we decide what we're doing." The buying and selling was largely beyond him – he understood the setting up of bases on a basic level, but Quatre had experience with it, and that was without diving into the company politics that he knew literally nothing about.
He hadn't even made up his mind about whether he wanted to learn, but he didn't think Quatre would just keep doing this for him forever, so he didn't have a choice. It was all indirect, almost circular waves and subtle push and pull entirely different from the inside of even the most complex machine, and the more he picked up, the less he liked it.
It was upsetting to realize that now, despite being away from the Barton Foundation, away from OZ and everything else, he still had to master skills he didn't want.
"Wish lists?" Duo asked skeptically. "What does that even mean?"
"What it sounds like." Duo, Nolan, and Amos were sitting around the table with books and papers scattered between them, though Amos was noticeably not paying any attention to his work now. No one else was in the room. "Where's Adam?"
"Hitting a handful of depots for wish lists, I guess," Duo returned, looking up and grinning before falling back into English. "He beat you to the punch; we're running Bomb Squad 101 this week."
That was a narrow view. "What about not bombs?"
He scowled. "Heero, I swear to God, if you draw attention here I'll shoot you."
He held in a smile, leaning against the doorway. "Again?"
"Won't be grazes this time," Duo confirmed, eyes dark. "Leave me out of it."
"You don't want to be a trillionaire?"
Duo threw his pencil at him. "Get out of my house."
It was too light to be accurate and went wide, but Odin caught it anyway and tossed it back. "Fine. I'll ask Adam instead." He'd hoped to bring them both in, but if Duo wanted to be whiny about it, he could be too.
"You do that. Between the three of you and Cat's new tagalongs you should have everything covered, whatever you get up to. I'm out." Frowning and shifting in his seat to face him more directly, he asked, "Where did he find them, anyway? I didn't realize it wasn't the Maguanacs until I really looked at Skye."
Wasn't it obvious? "Libya?" They were from just about everywhere before the Fall, he'd gathered, but he was reasonably sure they hadn't been as far west as Tunisia or Algeria, to have made a successful escape to where Adashia was located. Quatre was very consciously sparing with details but it didn't take a genius to read between the lines, and a lot of the others talked amongst themselves with more ease.
"…Libya."
"Pretty sure."
"Cambyses Libya."
Oh. "He said he talked to you," Odin argued, more with himself than Duo. Shit.
"Yeah, and he said the last couple years had been bad and changed the subject, so I didn't pry," Duo snapped back, voice raising as he stood, hands digging into his hair along his scalp. "Fuck! How the fuck does a space heart survive Cambyses?"
Was I the only one who missed that? "I wouldn't know." He wouldn't have said anything if he he'd thought Quatre kept Duo in the dark, but it was done now; nothing to do but mitigate the damage and apologize.
But where do I start?
Duo was pacing now as the boys looked on, wide-eyed. Odin jerked his head in the direction of the door, and that was all the excuse they needed to leave the room. "Audi?" She'd do better at calming them down than him, he imagined.
"Yeah, I got it," she called up, sounding stressed but still confident. Good enough.
"God, I'm gonna be sick," Duo muttered, slipping into his L2 accent. "You know how long?"
"Fifteen months."
"God…"
"He spent it finding people who wanted out and keeping them safe." He'd gathered that much from eavesdropping, even though he thought as much was obvious because it was Quatre. "And he cut the deal with the Strike Force scouts to turn against the rest, before leaving so the Regime wouldn't ID him."
Duo groaned, ducking his head. "So all his guys're…?"
Odin shrugged. "They stayed with him. Regime database says that his original squad was over a hundred fifty, though. Not everyone made it through the fighting, and he doesn't think he'll see some of them ever again, but more than a few have started making contact." Marie fiddled with the network every time someone else came back and needed a phone.
His friend dropped heavily back in his chair. "Fuck."
Odin considered him. His body had gone limp, head thrown back, eyes closed, looking… drained. And defeated. "Don't do this in front of him," he warned.
Duo tilted his head to level a glare at him. "Ya think?"
Well, that was probably a good sign.
oOo
oOo
Beyneu, Kazakhstan
"Hello?"
"Hi, this is Des Noin, trying to reach Colonel David Mitchell," a deep baritone announced in a by rote sort of way. "It's a matter of some importance."
Razo doubted that, but started looking around for the man. "You don't have his cell number?"
"No, I just spent three hours going through the Regime switchboard because I could." The man's tone was a complete deadpan. "It seemed like a great way to spend my day off – so glad I did it."
Razo rolled his eyes, starting to walk – he didn't see Mitchell anywhere. "You have Tuesdays off?" he asked gamely.
"I'm retired, I have every day off. Who am I talking to, anyway?"
"Second Lieutenant Charel, Mitchell's current second-in-command. I'm trying to find him."
"Oh good. The urge to break something was getting intense, and my wife's favorite platters are a little too conveniently close. Next time I see Jake, I'm stealing half his contacts. I'm out of patience and done with all these young pups forgetting they own fucking phones."
Ah… Nowhere to really go with that. "You mean Colonel Miller, I'm guessing?"
"Good, you have eyes – that'll serve you well," Des drawled. "He finally came by and got over himself, then?"
"Uh, not sure about the second part, but he swept through last month like a hurricane. Cassidy just about had a fit, then skittered off after him last week."
"A month." A frustrated noise came through the line. "That settles it. Cass? Book me that flight, please, I'm done."
"Flight?" Catching sight of his commander, he pressed the mouthpiece of the phone to his shoulder and waved. "Dave!"
"Doesn't concern you," Des returned dismissively. "You find him?"
Mitchell had waved back and was coming closer. "Yeah, he's on his way. What's this about anyway?"
"Miller."
Razo rolled his eyes. "Is everything about that guy?"
Des's voice turned amused. "He leaves a hell of a wake – you can't help but get drawn in if you're nearby. You ever know anyone like that?"
Robby immediately came to mind. "Yeah, I guess I do." He wanted to get back in touch, but he was still on the fence about how Dave would take that initial set of lies. Probably with an eye roll, but another couple weeks of solid friendship before he brought it up wouldn't hurt either, he figured. "Phone," he offered as he handed over the clunky satellite device assigned to their squad.
"Hello?" His eyes lit up, "Des, hey! It's been- What?" He frowned. "No, of course not, why would I- Of course I know you can text, why would I- Oh my God, why?" He rolled his eyes skyward and settled back on his heels, obviously hearing out a lecture. "Yeah, that was dumb." A longer pause. "Probably because it's classified? Gee, thanks a lot, I love you too. Was there a point to this, or is it just my turn? Okay… Fine, you know what?" He rattled off his cell number. "Text me so I have yours too and I'll see about getting you the auxiliaries. I'm not arguing, you're not wrong, but seriously, what the fuck, man?" Another pause. "Please. I have no idea what has a bug up your ass." He narrowed his eyes. "I'm twenty-nine years old, I'll talk how I damn well want when someone's bitching me out. What gives, old man?" Mitchell's stance shifted. "Yeah, I'm listening…"
He went very still then, staring off into nothing. Des obviously continued to talk for a while, but Mitchell didn't move; didn't even blink, just breathed.
"Dave!"
Des must have barked it damn loud for Razo to hear it at all, let alone so clear, but it jerked Dave back out of his daze and he started shaking his head. "Yeah, I…" He drew in a deep breath. "Fuck, that's… there's no fucking way, Des, that's… fuck." He groaned. "Shut up. I don't even care, this is insane, there's so many things wrong with it and… He would have called me. Even if we'd still been fighting, he still would've called me, that doesn't make sense."
His mouth tightened as Des talked more. "I'm not wrong, this is one of those things – we're just missing something, and I'm going to find out." He dragged his free hand over his face, looking exhausted. "Fuck, I can't promise that, you know I can't, what if- No, I can't go, I'm way too far east – but I half trained his boys and Dorothy owes me. I'll figure it out and try to make them loop you in, okay? You have my number now, but I need to start making calls if I'm going to get anywhere with this before my next op starts; you're lucky you caught me when you did." He sighed again, obviously listening. "Okay, yeah, good idea, do that. I'll update you when I've got something, okay? Sometimes he just lets his phone go dead, or maybe he smashed it and you're having a panic attack over nothing. There's no way he went AWOL again over good news, if this is even real. No, I'll explain later, just… Damn it, Des, I'm hanging up so I can shut down your conspiracy theories, bye." He hit the disconnect and handed the phone back to Razo before covering his face with his hands. "Fuck!"
"Uh…" AWOL? Again?
"Don't ask, I don't have the time," Mitchell snapped as he yanked his phone out of his pocket and started to quickly jab at the screen, walking away. "We're wheels up in forty, make sure everyone's ready in the hangar bay before that." He brought the cell up to his ear. "Come on, Lin, pick up… Pick up, pick up, pi- Lin! Please tell me no one's been kidnapped, because I'm running out of ideas here, buddy…"
oOo
oOo
October 30th 198 – Wednesday – Aura, Uganda – Afternoon
"You're early," Lucrezia announced without looking up as the door opened. She'd been hoping to have the rest of these reports sorted out before Odin and Audi showed up, and she was close, but, well… Horseshoes and hand grenades. He could give her a few more minutes before leading into what he was so excited to tell her about that he caught a direct flight all the way down here.
The mountain of a man half falling though the doorway started to laugh weakly. "Not… the welcome I was expecting," he gasped, his deep baritone cracking with pain.
"Rashid!" she cried, shoving back from the table and running over to him. He was stumbling, clearly exhausted, eyes wild and jaw tight. Fuck! The only person she'd expected was Odin, but she was taking a turn manning a safe house while she did the less glamorous end of being a general and Rashid was back.
"Get in here!" She was already shutting the door, though she left it unlocked – by the clock, her beau was only about ten minutes out, maybe less. "Are you safe?" she demanded, coming around the side he wasn't favoring and guiding him towards the couch. "Any tails?" He wouldn't lead them back here if he had a choice, but she'd never seen him gasping like this either. "I have back-up arriving in a few minutes, I can divert them to handle it."
He shook his head, trying to hold in a groan as he gingerly dropped onto the cushions. "I'm clean," he assured her. "Took…" He closed his eyes and focused on taking deep breaths – beads of sweat were trailing down his face, and his beard was a long way from the neat trim he normally kept it in. "Spent too long making sure," he grit out eventually. "Arm keeps getting worse. Help me with my coat?"
"We might need to cut it," she warned, starting to undo the zipper. It was bulky, and made out of dark leather – she wasn't sure how bad of an injury it was hiding, but the normally stoic commander bit back a curse when she bumped the wrist he was holding close to his chest.
"Let's try first," he insisted, shifting his left shoulder around to start wriggling his good arm out of his sleeve without moving his right. She grabbed the cuff and he managed it in short order, then froze, face paling, as he instinctively tried to shrug the rest off.
Shoulder, then, she decided, pinching her lips together as she reached around him to peel the leather off his back. After a moment he leaned forward a little to help, and thankfully it fit loosely, because she made short work of gently pulling it off his right side without more involuntary noises from the Maguanac. He only had a t-shirt on underneath, damp with sweat. No bloodstains, which was good.
On the other hand, his shoulder was very obviously dislocated.
She swallowed hard, thinking. Normally, she wouldn't think much of it; she'd put shoulders back in before. Jake had shown her how one particularly awful day in space when they were eleven, before he'd completely dropped out of the MS program. It had been useful periodically in the years since, and as far as she knew, she'd only caused damage getting the joint back in socket one of the five times she'd done it – the one time she'd tried on someone significantly stronger than her.
Rashid was… 6'9 and almost three hundred pounds of solid muscle. She wasn't sure she was capable of the amount of traction needed.
"There's a grim look," the man muttered tiredly, trying to smile at her in jest.
"How long has it been like this?" she asked woodenly, debating who else she had nearby with more medical training and coming up empty. Hospital. The swelling was bad enough that the divot showing the dislocation was nearly hidden, and she'd swear the joint was nearly twice the size of his left… Hell, she couldn't even cover his good shoulder with both hands. He was such a gentle man that it was easy to forget just how big he was, but… Fuck. If he was running, they'd be watching the hospitals. Odin might be able to get him on a plane, get him to one of our bases. But Rashid wasn't so easy to tuck away in a cargo hold, and he was barely coordinated enough to stumble, let alone sneak.
"Yesterday," he admitted, closing his eyes. "The sun was still up, but only just. Maybe… two hundred miles northwest?"
And he'd already passed the twelve-hour mark. "Shit." That would explain how aggressive the swelling was. They had to at least get it back in joint before they could get him on a plane.
"Language," he admonished, dropping his head onto the back of the couch; he was slouched enough to manage it.
"I'm going to hear worse from you before the hour's out," she shot back.
That tired grin widened, though he didn't lift his head back up. "Oh, much worse." His mouth tightened into a grimace again. "I tried myself, a few times. Before I stole the first car, and after the third – it only grew worse." Letting out a deep sigh, he added, "I'm not sure… my chest hurts, but that only began after the rush wore off. I do not think there's bleeding, but-"
"There could be a break or two already," she agreed, coming out of her crouch and dropping her hands to her hips as she thought. "Sit tight for a minute." She had meds, at least, and a sling; though she wasn't sure any of them would fit him or if she'd have to make one. "Any head injuries?" she asked as she piled all her papers onto the kitchen counter and opened the linen closet that was mostly full of medical supplies.
"No," he returned, starting to pant. "No, I managed that."
"Good." She dropped the iodine, gloves, and auto injectors on the table and started rummaging through her slings, pulling the strap for the largest around her neck and grimacing at the length before shoving it back in the cabinet – she'd reorganize later. "Have you taken anything yet?"
"Tylenol. No help."
"I'm not surprised." He was smart enough to avoid the blood thinners, at least – probably concerned about the potential for internal bleeding. Seeing as he didn't seem to be deep in shock, she doubted it, but better safe than sorry. She had some boards for splints, triangle bandages…
Screw it. She shut the door and moved to wash her hands. Based on the stories alone, Odin knew more about improvised bandaging than she did. She'd always had the best of materials with OZ and Sally made medical supplies a major priority, but there were always outliers and damn it all, she only had basic medical training. But she was what Rashid had right now, and it was going to have to be enough.
Lucky for him, though, she had friends. All things considered, his timing wasn't too bad.
Rashid watched her dry her hands and snap on gloves in a resigned way as she grabbed the iodine and pushed up the left sleeve of his shirt, half kneeling between his legs. "What are you giving me?"
"Until I can get Sally on the phone with a better recommendation? Ketamine. Low dose, but you're twice the size of anyone I've ever treated before, so keep me posted; we're probably going to give you more." The less pain he was in, the more relaxed he would be and the easier this would go; though at this point, she wasn't sure how much it would help. Still, he deserved a fucking painkiller. "Ever had it before?"
He snorted. "I can't say I've had the honor."
Well, he was breathing better the longer he sat still, and he seemed a little less shocky; that was something. "Should take about five minutes, and my help should be here by then." Rashid was going to need the younger man's strength – she was good, but Heero had always been able to brute force things in a way that made you question physics. Pinching a massive bicep head, she hit the button. "You were starting to really scare me, big guy," she admitted, calming down as she realized she did have control of the situation. "You've been gone for over six months; we were starting to think the worst."
He closed his eyes again. "That is a tale I am not willing to concentrate for right now."
"How about something simpler, then?" she offered, pulling away and carefully capping the exposed needle. "Who did this?"
"A cartel of some sort," he grumbled. "They saw me and decided I was Regime… caught me by surprise. Then the police noticed that fuss, and it got messy."
"Well, other than the shoulder, you look pretty good." He had a bit of a wild man thing going on too, but a long shower and some personal time with a razor would fix that. His tan was deeper than she'd ever seen on any of the Maguanacs, and maybe it was just the time apart, but she'd swear he was even more muscular than before – he certainly hadn't lost any mass, at least. "Have you been able to get any news?"
"Rumors, but nothing I trust. Romefeller rising, Cambyses gone. Cambyses taking Egypt. Marquise vanished and Relena re-crowned, China invading and turned back…" He opened his eyes again and gave her a curious look. "Epyon in Sudan?"
She smirked. "That last was a real treat. I watched from the command center and kept a copy of the surveillance vid, but the news crews got better footage and it went viral."
Rashid frowned. "You let Xu fly against him? Or Schbeiker?" He shifted his weight to sit up more and let out another involuntary groan, face tightening as he reached over to grasp his arm.
"Yuy, actually." She settled a hand on his good shoulder. "Cool it, what do you need? Sit up straight?" He nodded, and she wrapped an arm around his back below the shoulder blades and urged him to lean forward. "Brace your feet and scoot back. There we go." There was a blanket on the back of the couch that she tugged half around him before he leaned back again, securing it behind him. Once she had him with his back flat against the couch, head too high to rest now, she pulled away and darted into the room with beds to grab a pillow, heading for the freezer. "You should've seen him, too," she called back. "Like I'd offered a junkie a month's supply of pure heroin." She pulled half the cold packs out, the big ones, and headed back for the couch, dropping the packs on the ottoman nearby so she could fold the pillow in half and tuck it behind his head.
He sighed as he leaned back fully, relaxing a little more as she flicked the blanket out of the way and picked up the first pack, tucking it around the top of his shoulder. "Ah," he protested. "It's on skin."
"It's corn syrup – it won't burn you. I need the inflammation as far down as we can get it before we try this, so try to just sink into it. Might help with the pain too." Picking up another, she slid it between his ribs and inner arm, and he automatically moved his arm closer to keep it in place, breathing deeply – from pain or an attempt to follow her advice was anyone's guess. Probably both. The third she draped around his elbow and forearm, covering at least a good chunk of his lower triceps, and the fourth wrapped around the rest of his upper arm vertically. He started to shiver as she pulled the blanket tight around him to keep the last in place, securing the other end around the good shoulder and under his thigh. "Starting to feel weird yet?"
"Just cold." His teeth started to chatter.
Lucrezia grimaced, but nodded – she hadn't really expected results so fast, but she could hope. "Let me know – I need to call this in, see what Sally has to say." There were other physicians she could get a hold of, but she knew her friend would answer the phone right now and she'd personally treated Rashid in the past – she wouldn't have to waste time laying down the foundations.
Unfortunately, it was about what she'd expected. Get it back in socket stat, and get him to the Blue Nile base – the closest major facility they could drive or fly him into with impunity – for imaging ASAP. Get an IV running sooner than later, and some advice on dosages of what meds she could safely combine with the ketamine. Hanging up, she started to look up Abdul's number. "Rashid?"
"Getting there," he returned in a sleepy voice.
"Yeah?" That was promising.
He made a grumbly whining noise and slumped a little further.
Yeah, that sounded about right.
"Heya!" Audi called cheerfully as she threw the door open. "Guess what? We- Uh. Hi."
Rashid blinked at her a few times as the light from outside hit his face before closing his eyes again, not moving. "Hi."
Odin followed her in and shut the door quickly, dropping his duffel by the door and throwing the deadbolt. "Lucrezia?"
"Audi, this is Rashid," Lu introduced as she came around the kitchen counter. "Rashid, I'm not sure how much of this you're going to remember later, but Heero's here to help."
Odin signed something she didn't follow at his apprentice and came closer, pushing up his sleeves. "Status?"
"Shoulder's out, and he's only been on ice for maybe five minutes."
He nodded. "Did you already try?"
"I did," Rashid announced, narrowing his eyes at the gundam pilot. "It won't move much, though."
"He also waited over four hours before trying," Lu added tersely. "I think we're around eighteen, now."
Odin raised his brows. "What did you brace against?"
"What?"
Odin frowned, looking dismayed. "Another five or ten on ice," he decided, turning back to her. "I've never waited longer than an hour."
"I've never tried on someone so much bigger," she admitted.
He shrugged. "That's just leverage. I put Odin's in when I was…" He grimaced. "Nine, I was… eight or nine, and he was over six foot. Can't be too different."
"You haven't done it since?" she asked, feeling her stomach drop.
He shrugged again. "On me, sure." Glancing back at the larger man, who was starting to zone out, his frown deepened. "Please tell me you drugged him. If you didn't, I need to go blackmail a surgeon."
She loved how he could be so sweet without meaning to. "Drugged," she confirmed.
Odin visibly relaxed, nodding to himself. "Any breaks?"
"Haven't checked yet." She started summing up her conversation with Sally, Odin nodding along as Audi glanced around awkwardly, looking concerned but unsure about what to do. Not really thinking about it, Lucrezia walked over and pulled her into a hug without breaking monologue. She was getting tall; pulling her close meant resting her cheek more or less against the girl's shoulder. It brought back memories of hugging Leia when the older teenager was riding a meltdown, feeling her muscles start to relax…
…Audi was a lot like Leia, actually.
When was Mariemaia's birthday? Close to Jake, sometime, and she'd be the right age…
She resisted the urge to pull away and stare into the child's face as her mind went blank, tightening her grip for a moment instead to try to make up for her mouth just stopping. The coincidence would be… absurd. She'd long since lost count of how many children around Mariemaia's age had found themselves alone and at loose ends after Libra. Hell, she'd recruited too many of them by this point to even think much of how talented she was; more than a few of her latest cadets had come straight out of the Cambyses nightmare, and they'd all survived for good reasons. Yasashiku was both younger than Audi and frankly terrifying with a short sword, and he was from sleepy Colorado. Maybe she'd thought about Marie when she and Sally first started taking some of these kids off the streets, but she'd had no reason to believe Treize's daughter was on Earth. Nothing had ever been publicly announced about her when Dekim's coup attempt fell through, but the Regime database said they hadn't been able to find a trace of her since she vanished out from everyone's noses… How long did Odin say he's had her?
Lucrezia really wished, sometimes, that she had Treize's mind for details. Or even just Jake's – there was no point in wishing for an eidetic memory, and she thought Jake's had less to do with genetics. Her father had always said she was more of a do-er; she wasn't stupid by any means, but classrooms had always taken a lot of effort, while flowing through forms was almost as natural as breathing. She'd resigned herself to both her strengths and weaknesses years ago and was generally good at counterbalancing the latter with study and habit, but sometimes?
She couldn't remember if Odin had ever said specifically when he had found Marlé, and she'd only asked in passing – more making conversation than genuine interest. The age, though, the names, Marlé and now the way they pronounced Audi… the way they'd talked as though they were in easy contact with her mother, then had abruptly burned the identities they had been using because 'she's been taken into custody'. But there weren't any records in the Regime that said anything about Leia-
"Lu?" Audi asked worriedly, hesitating, then running a hand through Lucrezia's long ponytail in an uncomfortable attempt at being reassuring.
Oh, to be thirteen. She didn't miss that.
Clearing her throat, she pulled back a little and smiled. "Sorry, a thought just occurred to me." Are those Treize's eyes? She remembered thinking that Marie had his eyes when the girl was a toddler, but eyes could change, and she hadn't seen him in years either. I'm such crap with faces… She turned back to Odin. "I was about to call Abdul about transport. Any thoughts?"
"Hn." He turned to Audi. "Look up local private airstrips?"
"Ooh, yes!" She whipped her phone out of what was probably a conceal carry holster – she needed to talk to her about that, letting people realize you could hide things in your clothes was poor form – and moved to sit next to Rashid, careful to keep a foot of buffer between them, but no more. "And rentals?"
"Aa."
"Got it." She smiled brightly up at Rashid, who was blinking down at her. "Hi."
The man looked a little confused, then confused that he was confused. "Hello," he returned after a moment.
Audi gave him a sympathetic look. "Serious painkillers, huh?"
"I… suppose so." He sighed. "Sorry. I don't…" He made a face that was altogether uncoordinated. "…believe I can hold conversation. Right now."
"No worries, dude, we're going to take care of you," she returned happily, apparently over her shyness. "I wanted to see a gundam up close anyway. You're totally my excuse to get a look at the new Heavyarms."
Odin rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. "You could have just asked Lucrezia."
"Hush, I'm working," she shushed imperiously, bringing her feet up onto the couch so her knees were practically in her face as she tapped away at her phone.
He let out an amused chuff before focusing back on Lucrezia. "We won't want to go direct; it'll be too obvious. Ask Abdul about nearby airstrips or good landing zones and have him meet us? I need a destination before I can file a flight plan." Tipping his head as he thought, he added, "Or falsify one."
Well, that was a neat solution she hadn't considered. Then again, she wasn't adept at arranging things electronically to make it look like she had every right and qualification to do as she pleased, let alone at breakneck speed. Maybe I should be taking lessons too, she thought with some amusement as she pulled Abdul's number up again and hit connect, looking back over at Audi.
…It really might be her. But at the same time, she could think of a dozen ways she could be making this into something it wasn't, and if Audi wasn't Mariemaia, then she would betray Leia and Treize's confidence by asking. Marie's existence and heritage was less of a secret now than it used to be, but she'd still promised to not talk without express permission. If Odin had been in contact with Leia, then she must have told him to hide her daughter from any interested parties.
It doesn't make any difference anyway. It wasn't as though she would treat Mariemaia any differently than she already did Audi – the only addition she could think of would be stories about her father, but… either Leia would have already told her those, or decided to never share the truth. She and Treize had been tragic romantics desperately holding onto a clandestine long-distance relationship, but that had been a long time ago. Lucrezia hadn't spoken with Leia for almost nine years, and that was a lot of time for things to change. For resentment to grow, or to just… lose hope and move on. Marie could have a loving stepfather by now. It didn't seem likely, but, who was she to judge?
And Audi could still just be an extraordinarily talented child Odin had stumbled across by accident. The more she thought about it the more sure she was that wasn't the case, but she didn't know, and… well, if she was right, she'd get confirmation eventually. It didn't matter.
Except… Does the Regime have Leia? The idea made her stomach twist; she was going to go back through the database with the fine-toothed comb once she had the chance. Leia was too valuable of a political hostage to risk harming, but she'd already lived so much of her life in pretty cages designed to break her will. The other woman had always risen to the challenge – terrorizing her father into ostracizing her and Marie further and further away from the center of Operation Meteor, dodging any attempts to find her after the rise of the Regime – but everyone had a breaking point, and she'd seen Leia through a crisis or two, knew from her own experience just how much it hurt to pick the pieces back up-
Cool it, she reminded herself, rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath. If she was wrong, then Leia was still free and clear, doing… whatever it was Leia had been doing for the past decade. If she was right and the Regime had her, there was no way in hell Jake would let it go unchecked. Leia might not be one of his beloved, but Treize and Marie both were, and he'd had a bad case of hero worship going for her back in the day. She was a little too much like Treize's mom for that not to have happened, because Freud got things right sometimes.
Lucrezia bit back a grin, eying her lover as the phone rang. Actually, she could see a lot of her father's attitude in Odin too. He just rolled with the punches and owned whatever happened out like he'd planned for it, then made a wry joke afterwards. No apologies, no recriminations, no drama – just a shrug and a grin at the irony.
Or maybe the smile was just for seeing her eyes light up; his sense of humor could be a little hard to track sometimes, but she'd realized last week that he was cataloguing everything about her when they were together.
It should probably be creeping her out, but honestly? The attention was flattering as hell. And she was not about to argue with the results so far. She was getting more and more attached by the damn day, and she was pretty sure they were still only just scratching the surface. Time will tell, I suppose.
She snorted out a laugh as he shifted his weight into a subtle stretch for his bad leg and something else occurred to her. Oh damn, he has Dad's same limp. Her father's was on the opposite side and had been from a motorcycle accident before he met her mother, but that was hilarious.
"Lucrezia," Abdul sing-songed into the phone as he picked up, laughter in his voice. He was having a good day, then. "How may I be of service?"
She smiled and tossed Odin a wink before turning to look back at Rashid – who was apparently trying to follow something Audi was enthusiastically showing him on her phone. "I need a replacement and a pick-up," she started. They liked to keep this particular safehouse well-manned and stocked – it was a good crossroads. "I've got company I'd like to bring home, and I don't have time to dick around."
oOo
oOo
Way Station between L3 and L4
"Well, this bites," Catherine announced irritably, crossing her arms.
"It's only a little delay though, right?" Tatiana pointed out, biting her lip in worry. "Less than two days, right? That's not so bad."
"It is when you're trying to keep Wini fed," Corso argued immediately, slouching forward to rest his elbows on his legs. "She doesn't like being so cooped up either."
Everyone grimaced. Wini got to be a real pill if they let her work herself up into a temper, and an irate elephant was nobody's idea of fun. The rest of the animals were pretty blasé about cages – the lions in particular seemed to like the extra naptime – but Wini was always the first out and the last in for good reason.
"Well… there isn't really anything to be done about it, is there?" Celeste asked hesitantly. "I mean… this is space; we can't pack up and go without ships. Did they at least say why?"
"They were being awfully tight-lipped about it," Cathy groused. "None of the usual excuses, which is the real worry. Edwin's out trying to see if he can hear anything better, but if I had to guess?" She raised her brows meaningfully. "Regime's had its army out here for a while now. Maybe they found some of what they were looking for."
Celeste, who had never been to space before the start of this tour, went white. "You think they're fighting out there?" she half gasped, looking around the room as though she expected it to collapse any moment now. "Are we safe?"
Cathy rolled her eyes. "Probably was fighting, more like, and the debris made a mess of our route. Either they've called in navigators to make a fresh path, or they're bringing in the Sweepers double-time to get it taken care of before it drifts too bad. Maybe both." Shaking her head, she pointed out, "We're safer here than we would be if they'd been having a battle the same distance away from us dirtside."
"Space is more polite about civilian zones," Eileia agreed with a yawn, stretching her arms over her head. "Most of the time, at least."
"But…" Celeste flailed her hands a little. "Colonies are breakable!"
Leto laughed. "Oh that's adorable."
"People are more breakable than colonies, sugar," Cathy pointed out. "There's a lot of steel between us and vacuum, and that's not even getting into the new security they've been putting their tax returns into."
"Tax returns?" Tatiana asked skeptically.
"Yeah, the colonies had food, and Earth had raw material. The Regime may have strong-armed them into minimal rations the first couple of years, but if they hadn't offered something to sweeten the pot, we'd have had a whole lot more trouble to deal with than the Barton's sad little try at another revolution." She gestured vaguely at the wall. "Most have a decent mine field standing guard now – you might be able to slip a ship or two through, but not an army or anything a good size, like during the war." Turning to Corso she pointed out, "Depending on how this goes, though, we might end up going back to Earth. It's technically safer up here, but you're right, keeping extra food in reserve for delays gets expensive."
And tranquilizers. She hated doing it, and most of the time they didn't need to, but… Upset elephants might make you want to strangle something, but enraged elephants were the stuff of nightmares – five tons of sheer animal landslide. Wini had never gotten that way, but that was more to do with catching it early – when she was a little girl, they'd had a bull that went on a rampage, and they'd had to gun him down. The manager had sworn to never keep a male again too, but that just made it less likely, not impossible.
She never wanted to see that again.
"It could be nothing too," she pointed out as she sat. "But it's something we have to think about. Nowhere's completely safe; we just have to do our best to plan ahead and take it as we go." Disaster could and would strike anywhere it damn well pleased – wasn't any excuse to go about too scared to live your life the way you wanted. She wasn't going to pull an ostrich and stick her head in the sand, doing whatever she felt like, but she'd decided a long time ago that fear wasn't ever going to cripple her on its lonesome. Life just wasn't long enough to let something like that hold you down.
I'll talk to Adam, see if he knows anything, before we decide what's next, she decided firmly. More information never hurt.
oOo
oOo
Southern Sudan – Blue Nile Base – Infirmary
Marie wasn't sure how long she'd been curled up in the chair with her face in her knees, but she still didn't want to move. That had been… She was pretty sure she never wanted to do that again, and she hadn't even been the one doing the doing.
She was kinda hoping if she stayed here until Rashid was better enough to be awake and she could talk to him, it might make this feel less awful. Worse, it seemed like one of those things that Odin just didn't get, because he kept giving her those utterly confused/worried looks – and she couldn't tell him how to fix it, because she didn't know either. She'd been grateful when Lucrezia led him away because it was getting awkward as crap and… she really wanted her guts to start unknotting sometime soon.
She didn't even know Rashid – why was this so hard?
The infirmary door swung open again, but she didn't really pay attention to it until whoever had come through sat down next to her and leaned forward with his elbows in his lap. "He will be fine, you know," he announced. His voice was accented in a way she couldn't immediately pin down, which normally made her curious, but…
Marie sunk a little deeper in on herself, refusing to look up. "I know," she mumbled. She did know, but that wasn't making the sick feeling any better. She'd never heard somebody scream like that, and he'd done it through a gag until he could barely make any noise at all.
That was about when they decided his collarbone had cracked, if it hadn't already been – Lucrezia said it was a toss-up.
Odin's face had gone damningly blank after feeling along the bone, but it hadn't stopped him from bracing the big man against the wall, planting a boot there again for leverage, and throwing his weight as he pushed to wrench the arm out and to the side even harder. The sound… She wasn't sure if the audible crack of bone snapping in two or the wet thunk of the joint sliding back in socket was worse.
She hadn't made it to the bathroom before throwing up.
"We won't know for sure for a few weeks," the man continued lightly. "But with Remalene applied now when the inflammation is still so severe, the outlook is good. The break will keep him in a sling for longer, but the longer the joint was out, the greater the chance he would tear or even sever a tendon." She could see movement out of the corner of her eye – probably him shaking his head. "That could be crippling. Complex surgery is only the start, there."
That really should make it feel better, but it just didn't. Marie swallowed hard. "I don't think I could do that," she admitted without looking up.
More movement. "Not everyone can."
But it made her feel like such a failure. "That's not okay," she protested, feeling like she was about to start crying. "I…" Odin could do it; Lucrezia could. She bet this guy could… probably Hilde and Xu too. And she got why it was important, her mom was a doctor, it was simple math; sometimes you had to make it worse before you could make it better. She knew that.
But what Odin had done today? The idea of even seeing it again made her want to retch. It was important to know, she really should have been paying attention so she'd know it, but-
A warm arm wrapped around her shoulders. "It is okay," the man insisted, voice soothing. "It will be what it will, and you will either find your place in spite of it, or you will grow to carry more and conquer your fears. That is all." He rested his chin against the top of her head, which was enough like what Odin would do that even from a stranger it made her feel a little better. "It is simple, see? Nothing to worry about. Do not borrow trouble from the future; it demands triple the interest."
She let out a sharp laugh at that, shifting to finally look at the guy as he pulled back and grinned broadly, dark brown eyes considering her over the round sunglasses he was wearing despite being inside. "Seriously?"
His grin was very self-satisfied. "I've found it largely accurate," he protested in a mild tone.
She snickered a little, then made a face and sniffed loudly, wiping at her eyes and trying to clear her sinuses. Yuck. She still felt awful, but that was no reason to be a brat about it. Besides – Odin was probably off trying to not be awkward somewhere. Pull it together. Sitting up straight, she offered her new friend a smile. It felt weak, but it was something, right? "I'm Audi."
"Heero's apprentice, yes?" He nodded decisively, glasses obscuring his eyes again. "I am Abdul."
"Odin," she corrected. "But yeah. He found me, and I kept him, so that's a thing."
"Mm." He tipped his head, looking thoughtful. "He told Lucrezia to call him that, but he didn't mention it to me, so." He shrugged. "I do not care to impose."
"Fifty bucks says he forgot you didn't magically know it. He thinks people work like the internet sometimes – he told somebody something, so everyone linked to them picked up on it, right? I'm half convinced he thinks in programming language instead of something you can talk." The analogy didn't really work, but it was probably as close as anything else. The circles his thoughts ran in were less straightforward than they used to be – more organic – but a lot of the time that only made his logic weirder. "Odin's his actual name, and he prefers it." Jack Odin, which was amazeballs, but he'd started to look upset when she called him that, so she'd dropped it.
Odin fit better anyway.
"I think I will pass on that bet," Abdul decided. "And now that he is here again, ask him myself." He stood. "Will you be staying with him in the officer's quarters, or would you care for a bunk in the barracks?"
"He's not just staying with Lucrezia?" she asked as she dropped her legs, a little surprised. She'd assumed that was the plan, and had told Odin she didn't care where she crashed before they'd even headed to Africa. She was actually kinda excited to explore the base and see who she ran into – the barracks might be cool just because she'd never tried to sleep around so many other people. Probably weird, but worth doing at least once, right?
Abdul's sudden grin was bright. "Is that what they're doing now?"
Her eyes widened. Lucrezia had mentioned Abdul like they were close, and he didn't know? "I'll talk if you will." She didn't have anyone who talked to both of them to gossip with! Standing up, she added, "Let's be friends."
His eyes were still hidden, but she didn't need to see them with how wide his grin had gotten. "Excellent." Drawing her close with an arm around her shoulder, he started leading her down the hall, away from the infirmary. "Allow me to show you around."
I'll come see how Rashid's doing later, she decided with one last glance back.
oOo
oOo
Zurich, Switzerland
"Do you have an opinion on how open we are about us when we see Jack tomorrow?" Jake asked as he picked up his phone. Completely dead. Not exactly a surprise, but still annoying. He opened his messenger bag to look for a charger.
"If he's not likely to talk to anyone he shouldn't, I don't see a reason to hide anything," Relena returned easily, sitting in one of the suite's armchairs and carefully going through the clothes that had been packed for her.
"He only gossips with Des; he's good at covert." He plugged in his phone and went to look over her shoulder. "What are you looking for?"
"One of my blue blouses." She shifted through a few more things, careful to keep them folded. "The silk. If I don't have it, I want to ask Ella to bring it with her. My white skirt and jacket are in here, and I have a scarf that would match-"
"We brought it." Dorothy had given him enough warning that he'd been able to make sure her favorites made it into the suitcases. "It was in a garment bag, though; might be with Dorothy's things." That one matched her eyes perfectly, and she was probably talking about the gauzy blue and white scarf Olivia had turned up with just before they left for space… that would look good. If they tied it right, it would also help with the marks on her neck. "Wear that to lunch tomorrow?" She should have some dainty little white flats in there somewhere too. Maybe with her aquamarines, if they'd brought them… or just the diamonds. He had a bracelet he'd been meaning to give her that would work well with those anyway.
"If you'd like," she returned amiably, leaning back against his chest once he was close enough and smiling up at him. "I wish you'd wear earrings more."
"Easy enough," he assured her, wrapping one arm loosely around her shoulders and tracing the curve of her cheek with one hand. He'd gotten the two piercings in his left ear because he liked how they looked, after all. "It's against military regs, so I don't, but." He shrugged. Even if he felt threatened by that, no one would actually call him out on it. Add that to the fact that he'd already taken himself off active assignment before leaving Munich? "They come out if there's any real chance of a fight, though." Remalene could heal the cartilage if someone ripped it out, and he wouldn't have a hard time getting his hands on a script for vain reasons, but it was also blindingly painful in a moment where keeping his focus might be critical.
"Mm," she returned happily, turning her cheek into his chest. "You should do shirtless more often too."
"Hn…" That was another issue altogether. "You're going to have to work harder for that." If they lived alone, he'd probably be able to teach himself out of the sheer squick that idea set off within a couple weeks, but in Sarracenia? "I'll think about it, but that's… going to be a process." He knew it didn't make sense, so he was willing to try, but he wasn't going to promise her he'd manage it when the idea honestly freaked him out a little.
"Mm-hmm," she murmured easily. "Is it a gendered thing? I mean, I saw you running around the barracks in a towel way back when-"
"Closer to peer pressure and trying to not stand out more than I already was." And trying really hard not to think about it. He'd been tired enough that day that it had mostly worked, until he'd realized Relena was there too. "If I didn't skate the line a little there, it would have caused more friction than the discomfort was worth. Same principle as knowing I'm going to have strangers touching me."
"And not something you should have to do in your own home," she finished for him.
"I'm not against working on it," he repeated, taking in a deep breath and running his fingers through her hair, loving the way she was relaxing even more of her weight into him. If she wanted something of him, he was going to do his damndest to deliver. "It's just not easy, either."
He could feel her lips shift into a smile against his skin, and even after three days that was erotic enough that he almost missed her response. "Rome wasn't built in a day."
It… was a really good thing he'd already passed the reins over to the majors and Rome. He'd underestimated just how easily she could derail his thoughts now that he could have her. Somehow, he'd thought it would get easier, instead of damn near impossible.
Well, you live and you learn. He grinned as he knelt to match the height of her chair, pulling another kiss from her as she started to giggle and reach for his neck-
The doors on the connecting suite slammed open. "Okay, honeymoon's over! If we let Dorothy field one more call from the Regime, I think the world might actually end for good this time!"
Relena started laughing in earnest as Jake groaned, pulling away to sink the rest of the way to the floor. "Mai…" he called warningly.
"It's been three days," she protested. "If you haven't made good on it yet, you're gay; otherwise, keep it in your pants until the rest of us go to sleep!"
"Harsh," Relena protested playfully as she stood to pick up the complimentary robe from the armchair across from hers and toss it over him. "You keep me under twenty-four hour watch. If you're not willing to reconsider, I'll just have to play the deviant until you compromise."
Major Marakesh laughed, delighted. "Bravo! Standing ovation, I'm sure!"
"Get out," Jake growled, not really interested from moving from under his pile of embroidered silk and terrycloth.
"Only if she takes her phone back and promises to attend to it," Mai countered. "Is yours still dead?"
"Only for another ten minutes or so," Relena dismissed. "He just plugged it in."
"Good, he has voicemail too. You have no idea how close Lin came to busting down the doors yesterday, David was about to have a fit."
Jake frowned. "What?"
"Something about Des being the patron saint of blackmail. It honestly didn't make any sense to me."
He started laughing; because really, it had been a while since anyone had brought that up. "You obviously haven't spent enough time with a Noin!" Though with Lu, it was usually closer to extortion.
She snorted and started walking heavily for the door again, which he appreciated, because he knew she was doing it so he could tell where she was – he hadn't been able to track her progress around the suite a moment ago. "Whatever. Just listen to your voicemail in order, oldest first. Everyone's back in with supper when you're ready to be social again."
"We need to do at least a little strategy planning to cover what I've missed before we finalize my schedule for the next few weeks," Relena reminded her absently. "Mu's gone?"
"For two days, but she got delayed before reaching L1 – we can go over it later. Voicemail, both of you. And sound ordinance codes are not a thing anymore; if you holler, we're barging in, so if you want to have any delays," she pronounced the word with lascivious relish, "be quiet about it."
"Out!"
Relena snickered as the door slammed shut behind the major. "She just winked at me."
Jake groaned, pressing his cheek to the plush carpet. "How opposed are you to the idea of permanent shoji being installed around the private area of your suite back home? Western colors to match the rest." It was easier to deal with people barging in all the time if they couldn't see more than maybe a silhouette of him.
And in the event of an emergency, shoji weren't really a barrier.
"Mm, I'd prefer white paper, and match the floors for the wood. Maybe a more obscuring sheer for the bed curtains too." Her tone turned more amused. "That won't help the sound issue."
He sighed and sat up. "They can't keep you secure without sight or sound." If he had to compromise half his privacy for her security, it wasn't going to be the visual aspect. "And sound is more important to deliver a warning." It was easier to overlook a visual cue.
"Mm, I suppose. I want to see the layout you have in mind before the install, but I don't mind. Are we keeping the same second floor layout?"
"I was debating." He needed to talk it over with the majors, but it might be a good idea. Or overkill.
It was hard to tell the difference sometimes.
"Without you as an extra layer between me and the door, I thought you might want to shift things so the anteroom entrance could only be reached through an officer's quarters," Relena continued. "Obscure the apartment from the second floor altogether. I prefer the third floor entry almost to the point of exclusion anyhow."
"If we're doing that it's a little too direct, but I like the general concept." Not that he wasn't still going to be between her and danger, but it needed to be someone's job too.
"Oh?"
"Not to one of the majors' quarters – or at least, not in an obvious way, maybe with more connecting doors but… that's a much bigger discussion that involves everyone else, including Hayden." Hayden knew the structural supports of Sarracenia like the back of his hand, and at least one of his original suggestions for room layout had been oddly involved like that. But shared space between the guards was an issue that he technically had no say in now, and if they put Mai in as a direct barricade between them and the outside world she would insist on some sort of concession-
No. That wasn't right. He'd already resigned himself to the fact that there was no getting away from Mai's intrusiveness, and she had the kind of anti-MS infantry experience you rarely saw anywhere, let alone outside the Specials. The only people in Sarracenia she couldn't wipe the floor with were Jerome and himself, and Rome didn't have nearly the same level of experience with divergent weaponry. The captain was stronger, but Mai wasn't that far behind – and might be able to beat them all for stamina. Rome was more skilled in hand-to-hand, but Mai was more creative and able to either take or make openings because of it… and turn literally anything into a deadly weapon, the way Jake had been taught to. Rome tried, but he didn't think right for it.
Lin was advancing well on all counts and had the potential to surpass the others, but was younger and lacked the experience to be more than simply competitive – what he had, the reason why Jake had wanted Sobrie in charge of the others, was the ability to look everything over and swiftly determine optimal asset placement for ideal outcomes. He had the confidence and charisma to make others follow through in the moment even if they questioned it later. So long as someone he pointedly knew to be a few tiers ahead of him in skill didn't actively try intimidating him, he was steady as bedrock. But then Marakesh thought intimidation tactics were endearing, and if he had her as backup, even that didn't work. And Lincoln was only going to continue growing into his own.
So if I'm technically off the board, he decided, I want Mailin as the biggest bruiser between Relena and an assailant, at least most nights. He was still going to be there, but this needed to be designed to only count him as a boon, not an asset. Otherwise he'd burn out eventually and then the guilt would tear him to pieces, and he really didn't need to do that again. A closed loop outside his chain of command was for the best – and it wasn't like they wouldn't obey him if he demanded it. The three leading officers played into each other like a well-oiled machine in a way he hadn't seen in years, and he was fucking proud of having brought them together, without even touching on the rest of the Guard.
In a few more years, they'll be calling it the Queensguard. He couldn't help but smirk. If not sooner.
So. If they gave Mai relatively free reign to plot with Hayden and Illian on the second floor layout, so long as Relena got final veto rights, he couldn't see this going poorly. Polanski had a tendency to approach defense with the severity of a precision platform gamer, and the other two would indulge that without letting it actually turn into friendly fire.
He liked it a little too much to care if it was overkill – they were doing it. "I'll talk to them once we're dressed."
Relena made a thoughtful noise. "How much do you think we could get done before we're done touring this time?"
"That's hard to say without that first conversation." If he wasn't concerned about security, he could get it done faster than she might think possible, but he still didn't want anyone outside knowing the final layout, and that tied things up significantly. "If we don't alter much, it might go as fast as a week, but the more I think about it, the less I think that'll be the case."
She grinned. "You're giving Mai and Leia both a chance to interior decorate, aren't you?"
He hadn't really thought about that, but Mai had done a good enough job last time. As for Leia… Well, so long as Mai has final say, sure, why not? He trusted Leia for fashion sense, but that often didn't translate to interiors. Mai wouldn't let her put throw pillows or figurines everywhere, if she was prone to that sort of thing. "Unless you have any objections?" he offered.
She shook her head ruefully. "Do we have the permits for all this already? Or budget? You've been fairly reticent about that lately."
That's because you still think we have a budget. He'd been hoping to see if she would put it all together on her own at lunch tomorrow, though; it seemed… appropriate. A hint instead? An implication, at any rate. "It's my house; I don't need anyone's permission if I want to remodel."
She sent him a skeptical look as she pulled a set of casual clothes out of his suitcase for him and padded back over to her chair. "Is it, now?"
"Since the end of April," he confirmed. It had been an easy sale, abandoned as it was, with him ready to gut it anyhow. He'd been more concerned with the property size and location than if he'd need to tear anything down. And he had – two of the outbuildings hadn't been worth the effort of saving more than the foundations, and they hadn't had the need for the extra space yet. Though now… "I think I we should either remodel one of the old ballrooms for additional apartments, or start another building for them; maybe both. If we keep moving in the direction we have been, the guard will continue expanding to have inner and outer circles, and we'll want the second floor to only be the innermost – civilian and lower clearance levels that we still want to keep close should be housed elsewhere." If they were already going to have workers on the second floor, they might as well get two birds with one stone. For an outbuilding, the security didn't have to be nearly so tight, but within the center of the complex itself-
"Jake?" He met her eyes. "You own Sarracenia?"
He smirked. "Outright, yes."
"It's not a Regime base?"
"It has all the permits and licensure to function as one, but no," he confirmed. "It's private property."
"I told you I wanted to move out of my brother's shadow," she continued slowly as she sat again. "So you bought me a palace."
Technically he'd assumed he'd get it back eventually when she regained Newport City and Sanc Palace, but he hadn't thought far enough ahead to consider what he'd do with it at that point, so sure. "The scale seemed appropriate," he returned, trying not to grin like a fool.
She rolled her eyes, leaning back and crossing her legs. "Please don't let me make quite so many assumptions in the future. I feel a fool for it later."
"Of course." He wasn't hiding anything from her anymore, so that would be pointless.
She hooked a finger around the delicate chain around her neck to fish out her gundanium pendant. "How much did this cost?"
Now that's just rude. His lips twitched as he fought to suppress another smirk. "Enough."
Scoffing, she sat up again and tossed his clothes in his face. "Be that way. I'm going to shower before we have company again."
It was tempting to join her, but by her body language, she meant a quick shower, and they'd get too distracted for that if he followed. Besides, if Dave really was up in arms about something, he ought to check it out – his phone would probably at least turn on now. "Alright."
"Am I going to have to set another deadline for you to explain all this?"
Relena's tone was as much curious as exasperated, which he appreciated. "Already holding myself to tomorrow, love." If she didn't see it for herself, he'd explain in the afternoon.
Her smile was dazzling as she came closer and leaned over to kiss him. "Good." She rested one hand on his chin for a long moment, eying him contentedly, before smiling again and turning back towards the bathroom. "Give me fifteen minutes, and I'll be ready to work out our latest tangle," she announced.
He watched until she turned the corner into the bath suite and shook his head a little, considering the clothes she'd chosen – casual jeans and t-shirt. She hadn't picked up any of his weaponry, though, so he set the outfit down on her chair and padded back across the room to dig out his holsters. He hadn't been wearing most of them when arriving at the club on Sunday, what with the suit Dorothy had made for him fitting like a damn glove, and then he hadn't been in much beyond sleep pants and undershirts while closeted away, so his princess wouldn't have known where to start.
It might be amusing the first time they were intimate on a normal day and she had to strip him of his arsenal as well as clothes. It seemed like the kind of thing she might giggle her way through, peeling away his layers.
He took his time putting himself back together, reigning in his mind at the same time. Underclothes, holsters and their contents, pants and shirt, shoulder rig and sidearm, hoodie. He'd never taken his grounding bands off his right wrist – going without them at this point would almost be like having his tattoo removed, for all that he hadn't done any circuitry work he might need them for in over a year. He'd brought both his sapphire and diamond studs, and he put one of each in his ear before lacing up his boots and picking out a casual outfit for Relena to spend the evening in.
Des and Lu had always talked about finding contentment, the heart of your personal inner peace, and he'd thought he understood. This, though… Routine motions had always soothed him, but this was different; he thought he might finally get why they harped on the concept so much, if this was what it felt like. It was like the smooth glide of combat only without the adrenaline, without the artificial calm his uncle had drilled into him before memory started. No strife driving it forward, just… existing in the middle of a sea as smooth as glass.
It felt good.
Looking around, he debated if there was anything else left to do before shrugging and moving back to the nightstand. The readout on his screen said his battery was at twenty-eight percent now so he booted it up, watching the opening animations run as he debated what trouble Dave could've run into that would have been upsetting enough to rock the boat, yet not urgent enough for the Guard to break the last few days' peace. Nothing in particular came to mind; at least, nothing bad. Mai said he'd talked about Des cornering him, which might make sense if he had news and Jake was non-responsive like he supposed he had been since Sunday…
He smiled as an idea occurred to him. Did Lu finally contact him? He doubted it, seeing as the Noin household was still under Regime surveillance and she had avoided them thus far, but it would be a pretty fantastic way to round out an already amazing week. The sooner we can wrestle Zechs solidly out of the picture, the sooner she'll come forward. She and Des had always been very close, and it was going to eat away at her, missing the developmental milestones Lyle would be going through over the next year. Now that he'd finished clearing loyalties within Sarracenia he wished there was a way to make it clear to her that it was safe to approach, but he couldn't do that without causing a world of other trouble… if she would even believe it in the first place. Dorothy was a viable inlet for her to test the waters, but while he knew that, the Romefeller Heiress was as capricious as ever to the public and had a bad history with his old friend besides. He wouldn't blame her if she wanted to avoid Treize, provided she was aware of his survival, so that cut Mitchell out of the loop even if she had a way to reach him alone…
For all that he thrived in it, he was really starting to get sick of espionage, both acute and political. He was one of the best and Relena would need those talents in the years to come, and he was more than happy to apply his ill-gained talents to the good of humanity… but this was just one big mess. Fucking people over with a grin while they looked the other way was a lot more fun when your own emotional wellbeing wasn't on the line.
The stock photo on his lock screen popped up, announcing the date and time, and he gave it a moment to finish loading… then stared incredulously.
oOo
33 missed calls
17 voicemail messages
57 unread texts
73 emails
oOo
What the hell? The email he'd expected, he funneled a lot through there, and Mai had said he had voicemail waiting, but what the fuck? He tapped out his pin and opened the calls folder – a few Belgian numbers on Monday morning and one from Des that night, possibly when the phone still had a charge. Then Tuesday, nothing until ten in the morning, then a ton from both Des and Jack through the rest of the day and into this morning.
If they had all been from Des, he would worry that there was a crisis that the staff had overlooked, but while Des and Jack were good friends, there wasn't a single crisis he could think of that would have Jack frantically trying to get a hold of him. Hell, the only thing Jack had to talk to him about right now would be if he had to reschedule their lunch – his old man preferred to say important things in person anyway. And besides, if Des had pulled David into this too and it was serious, the boys would have either interrupted him or handled the problem themselves. It didn't make sense.
Backing out to his home screen, he debated for a moment before dragging down the notifications and hitting voicemail. Mai had emphasized the voicemail as his first step, and if the calls were mostly from his fathers, both literal and practical, he wouldn't need to listen to more than a handful to get an idea of what was going on. So he sat down on the bed and tapped out another pin.
"First message, sent Monday, October twenty-eighth, at eight twenty-three a.m.…"
oOo
oOo
Southern Sudan – Blue Nile Base – Officer's Quarters
"So long as you're not going to accomplish it by robbing Adam this time," Lucrezia murmured in amusement as she settled at her table.
"It's not a list of things you're asking me for," Odin reiterated from his seat on the bed, untying the laces of his right boot. "It's an idea map of what you'd like for future use in a perfect scenario."
"Yes, but see, the last time I meant it like that, you took me seriously," she pointed out. "And you haven't promised to not rob our ally blind given the opportunity." He had a history with this.
Odin rolled his eyes, shifting his leg out in a stretch. "I'm not going to rob Adam behind his back."
"Cute." As far as she was aware, he hadn't ever done it without making it perfectly obvious who was at fault.
He grinned wolfishly. "It all belonged to Trowa. Who he refuses to identify as. We talked about it."
Lu snorted and grabbed a notebook. "I somehow doubt he's aware of what details he didn't cover with you.
Odin grinned back at her, though it turned into a grimace as he stretched. "I have no plans to stage an intervention on Adam's hoarding."
Ouch. Not wrong, but ouch. "You doing alright there?" He hadn't been limping earlier, but he tended to hide it. She'd been focused enough on Rashid that she might have missed it.
"Fine. Just stiff; if I let it stay this way, it'll turn into a problem."
"Does weather affect you?" She couldn't imagine it didn't, but still.
He shrugged, shifting positions. "Maybe? There's a lot of little things that add or subtract, and it's not exact… there's almost a luck aspect to it. Sometimes it's fine when all the factors say it shouldn't be, and sometimes the reverse happens. I don't really pay enough attention to the weather most of the time to know… and what would be the point, anyway? This is Earth. And even if it wasn't, I wouldn't bother hacking the mainframe to shift things around. Even if I knew what I was doing, it's not a big enough difference to be worth the effort." He gripped his thigh just above the knee in a way that looked like it would bruise, neck taut as he slowed down his breathing, concentrating. "It hasn't gotten bad outside of extended exercise since I finished post-surgical PT in March, so that counts for something."
Lucrezia nodded, watching him move back into the same stretch he had started with – he was obviously doing the physical therapy he'd just referred to, and they were the same motions she'd seen him move through more easily in the past. All things considered, it was still a young injury; especially if he'd had surgery less than a year ago. She didn't remember her father ever putting so much time to his leg, but he'd been living with it for eight years before she'd been born… And Des Noin's career had been carried by statistical and management skill, not soldiering. He'd never let himself get too badly out of shape, but he'd never been an athlete either.
"If there's something you do have an immediate need for," he announced after a moment, "I have Adam's permission to make space so long as I let him know what he's low on." He snickered again. "He asked me to lay out his movements during the war so he could try finding more old sites."
"You can't really talk," she pointed out, settling her weight on her elbows and watching him. "Audi told me how your tendency to 'geocache' isn't limited to Zero drives."
"Yeah, but that's resources," Odin argued. "I keep money caches or valuables, conspicuous tools, spare clothes, and medical supplies as much as back-up weapons. He only does it with artillery."
"That does seem a little short-sighted." She wasn't exactly surprised, given how Trowa had been during the war. All the same, he'd taken Xu through several obviously self-made supply depots on their mad run through Europe last year that included the rest of the basics, so at least he was learning. She shook her head. "I don't need anything for now – it's relatively quiet with the majority of the army in space but still ripe to return if we make true trouble. We have a contract with the Chinese that protects us here for now, but if we push it too far, they'll revert entirely to non-involvement, and we're not powerful enough to handle the Eastern States and the Regime without that buffer. If we engage the Regime too directly in Europe, Romefeller will try their luck sliding across the Red Sea. If we try concentrating on Romefeller, we'll have to pull back on our involvement in Europe, where we're finally starting to make a dent.
"Even if we weren't looking at two fronts, I'm not sure we could handle the Middle East and India. The first year after Libra, Sally was just trying to gather us up and keep us alive, and last year, we were mostly fighting for the footholds we have in both continents now. Since March, we've been caught up trying to consolidate two separate power bases, and we've made good progress, but the split attention shows."
He nodded thoughtfully. "How much of it's manpower versus resources?"
Lucrezia grimaced. "Technically, both. When you first showed up, we were just starting to get enough people trained to match our equipment. Now, we've got more people than we know what to do with, especially since we started screening Cambyses survivors. In some ways, recruitment's been easier in Africa all along because they dropped so many Americans here, and we don't have to be half as covert to operate under the Regime's nose so far south, but it's not exactly open enrollment. We only want people who can get the job done and keep their mouths shut… and if they're any good, we send them up north for more active work, because the east is a goddamn sleeping bear."
She sighed, dropping her pen and leaning back in her chair with her hands to her head. "They're going to wake up eventually, and the way everything's shuffled out, if we don't control the majority of Europe by the time they do, there's a fair chance they can roll right over us, gundam or no. They might not have the Mad Five, but I doubt they ceased MS development over the past few years, and you can't put a genie back in the bottle. The one good thing Zechs managed was the destruction of their spaceports, which keeps them locked down. The area is resource rich enough; if they'd had access to asteroid mining or any of the zero-G dependent material synthesis?" The idea made her stomach turn. It was hard to figure out everything that was going on over there, but they at least could confirm that there was no interstellar travel taking place, there or in the majority of Asia.
It didn't completely rule out interstellar trade because they did still have ties into Europe, but it minimized the risk, and Relena had made impressive strides on controlling the darker aspects of Romefeller's black market. That wasn't even touching on her careful cultivation of the European branches that Zechs had never done more than intimidate into sullen obedience. To all appearances, the Princess was effectively indoctrinating or culling the power bases of her opponents with little more than smiles and brutal economic maneuvering.
She had to have picked that up from Jake. Or maybe Dorothy, initially, but she refused to believe that Jake hadn't refined that talent into the precise scalpel Relena was wielding now. Her charge had still been fumbling with subtlety in Sanc – the girl's use of political influence as a blunt club had nearly brought her to tears on at least one occasion.
"So we're defining Romefeller as its Middle Eastern and Asian branches?" Odin clarified.
Lucrezia nodded. "Zechs did a decent job of declawing Europe and Africa when he founded the Regime, but he needed the others too much to risk castrating them." She rolled her eyes. "If he even could have, by the time the initial alliance with China was settled out. Eastern Romefeller and China were the only people who could have put forward more than a token effort to fight him off post-Fall, and he couldn't afford an ongoing campaign then any more then than he can now.
"So long as he both had Dorothy and it was clear that Treize's blood wasn't directly on his hands, he had legitimacy enough to make most of Romefeller take him seriously. The Weridges haven't seen significant power in their family since their fallout with the Dermails almost ninety years ago, but a good part of why they were willing to accept Relena as Queen was because a Weridge has held a stranglehold on the rest of the Foundation before. Pointedly, the last time they made an alliance with the Catalonias. And Catalonia history has repeatedly proven that they are the worst enemy to make." As in 'we might massacre you and everyone you associate with for crossing us' history.
"So now that Relena has Dorothy, she has the legitimacy," Odin interpreted.
"On top of everything she's made for herself, yes. It makes it look like Dorothy was never doing anything but waiting in the wings for Relena to take center stage, even, and that Zechs was holding them both hostage until both Heiress and Princess somehow blackmailed him into dropping the house arrest."
Hell, it might even be the truth. Dorothy had always been slippery as an eel, but there was no denying she had a damn near obsessive streak when it came to Relena. Her defection to White Fang had always smelled like poorly planned espionage to Lucrezia, and Zechs certainly hadn't reaped the benefits Relena was now gaining from alliances with the European nobility.
Shifting to a new stretch, Odin jerked his chin at the table. "So, what would you need to tackle Romefeller?"
Relena. Relena and everything she brought with her by default. An assurance that Treize wasn't going to play boogeyman again and slide in to steal a victory at the last moment, but she doubted anyone, even Jake, could guarantee that.
She closed her eyes, thinking. Given a little more time, Relena would only win more of Europe, and what she couldn't win, she might be able to quietly strangle. Jake stood as a clear bridge between the Princess and Treize, though to all appearances, they were still moving entirely independent of each other – that could be due to either ignorance or choice, so no help there. With Jake and the way things had been going so far though? In all likelihood, the situation with Treize would be settled one way or another before Lucrezia could successfully make contact with Relena. So that, at least, was something she probably didn't have to consider.
The Sweepers were convinced that the hidden parties of the Winner Corporation were funding Treize's romp through space, and she trusted Howard's opinion on that. He wasn't one hundred percent, but close enough that it hardly mattered if he only had part of the picture. The space dynasties – what was left of them, at least – weren't bucking the saddle this time, and given the dissatisfaction of the latest Winner generation with their own laws, they were probably interested in changing the status quo. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, Lucrezia mused, and there are a lot of gypped women in that family. Sally had it right; at least for now, Treize could handle space. It left them with the far less appealing but more important task of recovering Earth.
"I need two damn armies," she decided after a moment. "I need forces to equal what the Regime sent to space without splitting what I have. If I have superior weaponry, Tauruses and gundams, I can stretch it a lot further, but I still need enough boots and suits to hold secure borders, which I can't do on either continent yet." She pursed her lips. "And whenever we take power in Europe, it has to be fast, on the same speed as Operation Daybreak, or Romefeller has a decent chance of rearing up before we can finish the amputation. We need to be ready for their retaliation after that and it can't be a stalemate, or anything close to it. If we don't make it clear that it's not worth the cost of the invasion, we'll be at war for another five years, and I won't be party to that."
Not again. Most of her father's generation was gone, her grandfather hadn't lived past twenty-five, and the Noins were nothing in the grand scheme of things. "It would take me another four years at the least to train enough pilots to match the required numbers for those confrontations, and I won't use dolls. Zechs widowed over two hundred thousand and massacred another three billion on Earth with a crew of three hundred in eight hours because he had a half destroyed army of Virgos. That can stand as testament to why we don't automate war for the rest of time." She rubbed at her face. "We need something else."
Odin watched her, eyes intent. No argument. If he and the other gundam pilots hadn't been whittling away at the Virgo army for almost three weeks before Treize showed up, barely catnapping while Howard's crew patched up the suits before going out again, no one else would've ever had a chance at all. She remembered how tired they had been… God, Duo had literally walked into a wall and started an argument with it before realizing it wasn't a person, ten days in. Heero had apparently mastered a form of waking REM when push came to shove but had a tendency to talk absolute gibberish when he did it, and Quatre had proven he could sleep literally anywhere so long as he could pull one knee to his chest.
Wufei she was less sure of, since it had only taken one incident of him pulling a saber on the person trying to wake him up before they did more than blare the hull breech alarm in his room and hope he could be bothered. Trowa had only come back with Heavyarms five days before Treize and the army arrived. Or Adam, I suppose. His new life had started by then, even if he hadn't chosen a name for it yet.
No one needed to tell Odin why war wasn't worth the cost. Sometimes, you just didn't have a fucking choice anyway. But this, at least…
"A military take-over will take too long – it has to be peaceful. We need Relena to take the reigns, then move in to back her before Romefeller realizes we're laying an ambush. Relena needs her power base more deeply rooted and her brother removed in a way that can't be construed as her own doing before she can pull that off. She's been building a personal court since leaving Brussels and it's going well, but it needs to be more absolute. The neutral zones need to either fall under her control entirely or become independent enough to be trouble – they have to be unappealing enough that Romefeller won't just plough right through them because Relena holds the greater prize and they believe they can take her and force the democracies to surrender afterwards."
Odin relaxed, leaning back on the bed with his hands supporting his weight. "So our priority is to expand Relena's command radius without anyone realizing until after we've reached the tipping point."
"More than anything, yes," she agreed. "That's why we've done all these little hit and runs, the espionage, the theft and sabotage – for a while, the weaker the militant might of the Regime and the higher the economic gain, the more freedom of movement Zechs gave her – she was that good of PR. That stopped after the riot in Amsterdam last year, and we were only a few months out from having a decent fighting force anyway – we changed tactics. The last time you were here, she unofficially took control of his Department of Defense, blackmailed them into a retreat, and soothed the Chinese – and gained a Ministry as a result. I'd say we should find another way to spur something like that on again, but if she rises any higher in the official ranks she'll be seen as a threat, and people might start trying to get in the way."
"Relena's always been a threat," Odin muttered dryly.
"More fools them," Lucrezia agreed, eying the way his shirt stretched tight across his chest, hitching enough so it almost showed his abs as he lounged like a cat on her bed. It made for an image, at any rate.
By the glint in his eyes, he noticed the extra attention; his lips twisted in a predatory sort of smirk. All the same, he stayed on topic. "I still want an armament wish list; include manpower caps in a few categories if you have to. I can talk to Sally about the rest."
"Fine." She didn't really feel like it right now, though. "How long are you here?"
"Ideally, less than twenty-four hours. I need to get back to Europe as soon as it's feasible, which at this point means I leave in the morning."
I have all night then. Plenty of time. The sun wasn't even down yet. "In that case," she decided, standing and moving over to stand between his legs. "I have an idea."
He smirked at her, not moving as she leaned in close, resting one palm on either side of him. "Mm?"
"Mmhmm." She pressed her lips against the spot behind his ear and held in a laugh when his arms started to tremble. Shifting back to look him in the eyes – which were mostly black instead of blue now, and wasn't that interesting – she smiled impishly. "I think you'll like it."
"Sounds promising." His voice had gone rough.
Pulling away, she bit back a laugh at his startled blink. "I need to swim some laps, clear my head." She pulled out the swimsuit she'd left in the dresser here, along with the shorts he'd claimed out of the uniform stock the last time he'd been in Sudan. "But I figure you'd prefer the hot tub."
Odin let out a soft grunt as he collapsed back onto the bed. "Of course." His voice was as flat as before Libra. "That was exactly what I thought you were talking about."
Lucrezia snickered, grabbing towels and setting them on the table before settling next to him to unlace her boots. "I didn't say it was the only idea I had."
His eyes were closed now, and he raised his arms up over his head in an idle sprawl, ignoring her. "Hn."
She toed off her right boot and started on the left. "Maybe I just want to make sure you're at your best, later," she offered, smirking as he tensed at the more sultry tone she'd used. "You know," she continued, watching him. "Feeling better, all limber."
He was looking up at her now, eyes sharp for all that they were still more pupil than anything. She bit her lip without thinking, and he smiled, dangerous again. "Really."
Damn. She pointed at him reproachfully. "You said you wanted critical thinking out of me," she warned, letting go of her shoelaces to scoot a couple inches away from him. "That won't help."
He sat back up on one elbow, smile widening into a grin. "You already needed to clear your head." He darted a hand out to the front of her pants and dragged her to him. She managed to not squeal – barely – and he laughed low in his throat as he avoided a steel toe in his bad shin at her surprised flail. "Careful." Wrapping a hand around her thigh, he dragged it down her leg, which did delicious things, and it was only when he stopped that she realized he almost had her boot the rest of the way off.
Damn. "You're a little too good at this," she muttered, shoving the collar of his jacket away from his neck to run her teeth along it.
He let out an appreciative hum as her boot hit the floor and he dragged his hand back up, slipping under the back of her shirt and starting to fiddle with her bra strap. "Are you complaining?"
Hell no. "Do I look like I'm complaining?" Nibbling along his jaw, she started trying to struggle out of her t-shirt.
His laughter was a little more helpless than sexy this time. "I can barely see right now. How do you do that? It always happens, I can't make them go back-"
Well, that was fun. She'd never met anybody who could get that hot and bothered; or at least, none that would admit it, if they did. "Shut them," she suggested, getting one arm free and deciding that was good enough, rocking her hips forward.
"No." Twisting sharply, he rolled so they lay along the bed instead of across it and he was above her, then tugged off his shirt and coat in one sharp motion before diving his hands back under her clothes. "I'll figure it out."
"Sure you will," she murmured, grabbing him by the back of his neck and yanking him down. "Let me know how that goes."
That low chuckle was back… and really, that was enough talking.
oOo
oOo
Southern Sudan – Blue Nile Base – Corridors
This is amazing, Marie decided, trailing one hand along the wall as she wandered, alone now. Abdul had led her around the compound before they'd run out of stuff to talk about and he had to get back to his job, but there were miles to wander in here. It was bigger than the base her grandfather had tried to run his rebellion out of, and that hadn't been small. You really can build anything as big as you want, on Earth. It was something she'd obviously known for a while now, but most of the time, she only saw the pretty stuff. Skyscrapers and temples and art.
This was sheer utility. Colony style thinking, home on Earth and scary big.
I love it.
"You lost?"
Marie turned and smiled brightly at the boy who'd come up at an intersection behind her. "Only if I had somewhere I was supposed to be," she quipped. "Abdul left me near the cafeteria, but I wasn't really hungry, so I thought I'd see what I could get up to." She was over her nausea now, but food still sounded kinda gross, so bleh. If nothing else, she had snacks in their bags, which Odin had taken with him when he left the infirmary. If she missed out, she could make do.
The boy frowned a little, then shrugged, starting to come towards her. "I was heading to the gym for some practice. Are you new, or a transfer?"
"Mm…" Marie waggled her fingers at him. "My brother and I are allies, I guess? He runs point with Lucrezia now and then, and sometimes I get to tag along. This is the first time I've been here, though, and he hasn't since… I guess it was July." She'd seen the gym earlier, but more of a glance through the door than anything before Abdul dragged her off to the next area. "You mind if I come?"
He made a face, but shrugged too, so she didn't take it as a no. "Why not, so long as you can prove what you just said. You're calling the General and Commander by their first names, which is weird, but one of them ought to be down to supervise spars soon if no one else recognizes you."
She made a face too. He didn't believe her, which was lame, but she couldn't really blame him. "Fair enough," she agreed gamely, moving to walk alongside him.
He glanced at her sideways. "You spar at all?"
"Eh, with my brother." She wasn't sure if the tussle and shove crap they did counted, but she'd taken out Hilde, right? Still, that kind of thing usually had rules and stuff. "Nothing formal."
He looked disappointed. "Just hand to hand?"
Not too often anymore, unless it was really spur of the moment while standing in line somewhere. "And batons." They'd stopped using the really light ones that only stung if you followed through too hard in June, though the practice ones were small enough to be more like knives. He hadn't let her carry more than a utility knife until she'd proven she could keep a good grip as well as her stance when he was coming at her. "Knife practice stuff," she added, just to be clear. "And guns, but you said spar, so." She'd totally pistol whip someone who startled her if she had a gun out, Odin had shown her how to do it without hurting her hand, but that would be rude in a play fight.
He looked a little more cheerful at that. "You any good?"
Marie wrinkled her nose. "Not against him." Should she mention the Hilde thing? Probably not. She was pretty good at dodging and backing out of range on the dime, but almost nothing ever connected with Odin. Still, it's Odin. And the Hilde thing had totally happened, and there'd been that lame creep in Amsterdam on the way to Amos' school, right? Duo and Skye had insisted she was totally badass in Rotterdam, but that was guns, not footwork.
It could be fun, though. "Why, you offering?"
He grinned brightly at her. "Why not?" He gave her a surprised sort of look. "You're not underestimating me."
It wasn't a question, but she wasn't sure how to take it either. "Uh, no?"
"Most people do."
"Most people are stupid." Being underestimated was a goal – why would you do that to yourself? Odin didn't look like much, and now when people looked twice at her, it wasn't because they thought she could fight. It was kinda annoying, actually, being noticed in the first place, but… Well, it wasn't going to go away, so she'd better figure out how to work with it. "How long have you been sparring?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. Forever? Hand to hand, at least, I don't really remember. My dad started me on swordplay when I was eight and he stepped it up after the Fall and we had to move to freaking Africa, so… four years? Getting close to five. I'll be thirteen in February."
So… Sword-fighting versus gun version of Odin, her age. Crap. Well, you had to learn somehow. "You're going to wipe the floor with me, aren't you?"
The boy laughed, eyes sparkling. "I wasn't gonna say it. Still want to?"
She rolled her eyes. "Sure, why not. I'm Audi, by the way."
"Yasa."
oOo
oOo
October 31st 198 – Thursday – Zurich, Switzerland
"Sorry about the other day," Lin offered with a grimace, leading the two men into the new hotel Daniella had brought everyone through this morning. Security was actually good enough that it had been difficult to slip Relena through unnoticed so her younger lookalike could change back into her own clothes – which was irritating, but nice too. He wasn't going to let his guard down, but the extra effort was a pleasant sort of security blanket.
The colonel was obviously rubbing off on him. But, seeing as he technically had Jake's job now, that was a good thing. He was perfectly fine with gaining the black ops espionage skills without living through the sort of hell you usually gained them from. Given the sheer magnitude of the career he'd landed, he wasn't going to turn away any edge he could gain – in the future, it might be a matter of life or death.
"How about you don't do it again?" Des offered in an overly gracious tone.
Lin rolled his eyes. "I don't write protocol, so that's something you have to take up with the Princess." Well, technically now he could, but he wouldn't. "I didn't like shutting you down, but you wouldn't give me a straight reason for why I should disobey orders, so I couldn't even weigh the spirit against the letter of the law. I know you're close to him, but unless he says you have the authority to overrule that kind of hush order, you've got to throw me a damn bone. He trusts my judgment – it's kinda pointless if you don't trust his."
And now you're going to have to start trusting me as the final authority on what does and doesn't fly, and you need to get used to that. Jake was a permanent fixture in Princess Relena's life and would always have final say, the same as Lena, but as of six days ago he wasn't responsible for her.
"He's right," Jack pointed out, glancing self-consciously around the lavishly decorated lobby as they moved towards the executive elevator.
"Dave technically has that right, and knowing Jake, he'll probably give it to you if you ask," Lincoln added as he held up his keycard and pressed the button. Even with that, though, he hadn't been able to explain why no one could come to the phone – Relena didn't care to speak with reporters about her personal life any sooner than absolutely necessary, and that meant not talking about it where he could be overheard. Phones were too easy to tap.
"He's okay, though?" Jack asked somewhat anxiously. "He's not…?"
That, at least, he could answer directly. "He's walkin' on fucking sunshine," he announced bluntly. "Dripping sheer joy everywhere. It would be disgusting if it wasn't absurdly adorable." And a welcome relief from the gloom of the past year. Jake had been better since getting home from space – he'd even gotten all the way back to the man who had recruited him, the week before telling the rest of the house about Treize. Leading up to the masquerade shenanigans, the colonel had been happier than Lin had ever seen. He'd been looking forward to seeing more of that in the days to come. He'd even debated with the others if the upswing would continue as everything stabilized – but this?
He'd never imagined he'd see the broody, sarcastic colonel so utterly blissed out as he'd come out of that suite last night.
Part of Lin was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but at the same time? The guy had just gotten the girl then basically been handed a miracle. Sure, it was more complicated than that, but you didn't have to know Jake Miller for too long to realize just how much of the self-loathing he defined himself by was built around the death of his little brother. Suddenly finding out that he'd been wrong and the kid was alive? It was probably going to wreak even more havoc in his mental architecture, but hopefully it was the same sort of 'burn that shit down so we can build something amazing' thing that he'd already been in the middle of with Lena, lancing out the secrecy he'd bottled up.
It was arguably the best time for this kind of upheaval to have happened. The man had just come clean with the household and been welcomed back in without a single question. He'd already been trying to start on a clean slate with Jack. He and Relena had finished sealing the deal; keeping them from being obvious in view of paparazzi was probably going to be exasperating as fuck, but teasing them until Jake settled the hell down and it went public would probably make up for it.
Lin was pretty sure at this point that the resurrection thing was a cherry on top that they could take in stride. Even if it turned out to be trouble somehow, he didn't think anything could sink them back to where they'd been in August.
"I was worried when he didn't call back last night," Des admitted, sounding sullen.
"He was going to, before he found out you were going to be here today." Lin smirked. "So I'm going to say that one's on you." He grinned when the older man rolled his eyes and made a flicking gesture at him, and focused on Jack again. "Are you okay?"
The man visibly slumped. "I have no idea."
Please don't tell me the brooding is genetic. He winced internally and waved the thought away before it could really take, knowing it was unfair. As fucked up as Jake was over his brother, the kid was Jack's son, complicated background or not. Lin had outlived his parents, and that had been bad enough; he couldn't even begin to imagine surviving the death of your child.
Or, well, believing you had. Serious skill set, there. He stifled the urge to burst out laughing – that might take a while to explain, and wasn't half as funny out of context anyway.
"It's… kinda crazy," Lin offered sympathetically as the elevator opened and the three of them got on, waiting for the doors to shut again before tapping his keycard to the sensor and selecting the penthouse. "Are you actually up for seeing him?" He could probably come up with something… or at least, improvise an excuse to get the man out of there before he hit critical mass and a fight broke out, if Jack was as close to the edge as he looked. He didn't know Jake's dad well enough to tell if he would be more 'curl in a ball and have a meltdown' or spin into 'kill anything that moves,' but either way it would go down better if it didn't happen in front of the colonel. He was trying to turn over a new leaf, but old habits died hard.
"If I'm not, he won't talk to me again for another year." His voice was toneless, almost hollow… emotionally spent.
Fuck that. "If you're not, I'll get Relena to invite you over for Thanksgiving." Actually, that might be a good idea either way. He wanted to check with Mai and Rome, maybe Mitchell too before suggesting it, but Jack had been by the Brussels base for both New Year's and Easter this last year, and nothing had gone sideways like that first time. With Jake's head now in a much better place, they could set an actual precedent.
If he was serious about starting to mend his fences, Jake might even suggest it himself, with the right nudge. Mai should imply it. He was perfectly capable of dropping the hint the right way, but people expected certain things from each of them, and it worked in their favor to play into that.
Jack paused, then gave him a confused look. "You're having Thanksgiving in Germany?"
"Well we can't exactly have it in New York, can we?" Truthfully, it had been a long time since he'd bothered, but he also hadn't been back to the States in almost seven years – that, and his mom had never really made a big deal about it. When he was little, he remembered being the tagalong to this or that friend's family supper, but it had always seemed more like an excuse to get together than an actual holiday… and the only family he'd had for most of his life was his mom, who had always been there, right up until she wasn't.
Then there were bills to pay, and dreams to chase, and he hadn't really found people he'd care much about if he ever saw them again until Jake had roped him into Relena's retinue. Honestly, he hadn't really had the time to try either, he'd thought, and it hadn't bothered him until he'd found himself doing it recently, despite possibly having even less personal time than when he was working full time and earning his MBA. Now he sorta wondered where he'd gone wrong with it before; but at the same time, he wouldn't he here, with these people he did give a damn about if he had attached to anyone when he was a teenager, so he wasn't too broken up about it.
Life had a way of working out. So long as you could outlast the shitty parts, you'd do fine.
Jack was frowning. "You're American?"
"Technically?" About as much as Mai could claim she was Australian – his parents had been from there, and they'd said they were American, but he'd grown up in the Alliance, and maybe spent four years in the States if he added up all the different times into one lump. "What, didn't the name and flat accent give it away?"
"Lincoln was a British name first," Des pointed out conversationally. "And most children of Alliance soldiers never develop a native accent. The aristocracy consciously teach their young to speak differently from the other academy students."
Lin rolled his eyes. "I never went to military school; just base standard before I earned a full ride into Saint Gallen when I was fourteen." He'd had a few other options, but his Swiss and German had been a lot better than his French or Italian at the time, and once he'd landed a job as a supervisor at a sales gig close enough to bike to and from campus, that had sold it. Collections had started hounding him less than six months after he inherited his mom's medical debt, and it had been the best way he could figure to get by. At the time he'd been upset that he wouldn't have time for ROTC anymore, but he'd refused to consider the joining the Alliance without a degree under his belt – enlisted had too long a history as cannon fodder.
In the end, it had been a good thing; he'd seen a few of the ROTC guys he used to know get forced into serving infantry after the gundams started raining down hell. Getting through the conditioning of basic training after being out of the habit for five years had been a pain, but not the end of the world.
Hah, phrasing. He raised his eyebrows at Jack – he'd never been able to do the one brow thing. "You're running out of time for me to make excuses," he pointed out, gesturing at the rising numbers on display.
His jaw tightened. "I'm not giving up."
Well, at least he sounds more alive. He'd still need to keep on his toes for damage control, but that was hardly new. "Cool." He debated before asking, "This is good news, isn't it?" He'd thought that was obvious, but the way Jack was acting…
Des frowned. "Mitchell was concerned that it was a hoax."
Oh, that would be bad. Thankfully, they'd already gotten confirmation. "The bank called to confirm that he passed multiple genetic tests, obvious and subtle, as well as fingerprinting. We didn't know until he listened to his voicemail last night, but they were thorough." And then Jake had laughed himself silly over the kid's history without explaining what the fuck was so hilarious. It wasn't all that happy a story, so Lin was pretty damn sure he was missing something; that or Jake had just gotten hysterical, but he was mostly sure that wasn't the case.
Mostly. They were in uncharted territory, here.
Both men visibly relaxed at the news, though Jack curled in on himself a little too, so something else was going on in his head; if he was anything like his son, it probably had to do with perceived guilt. "I'm pretty sure," he offered leadingly, "that if Jake couldn't find him, no one else could have either."
"That's only part of the issue," Des agreed candidly.
"My brother-in-law," Jack announced quietly, "had a very uniquely warped psyche. And Odin stopped even talking to anyone but the boy after I took Jake."
That… Oh. That left open a lot of possibilities. "We don't know anything yet," he reminded him.
Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath as they reached the penthouse floor. "Exactly," he agreed. "We don't know anything at all." The doors opened and he strode out first.
Des sighed. "They have such a tendency towards pessimism."
"Normally I'd agree, but I think Jack might hold a monopoly on it today," Lin argued as he followed. "And I'm okay with that." He looked back over his shoulder. "What the hell did you do to get named the patron saint of blackmail, anyway?"
oOo
oOo
Salzburg, Austria
"Hello?"
"So I'm going to be running late."
Quatre snorted. He'd honestly assumed, but he hadn't expected his friend to come out and say it either. "Lucrezia?"
Odin snickered. "Not like that. But yes."
He shook his head, amused in spite of himself. "Uh huh."
"I said I was going to Europe, and Audi made a friend who needed an ride. I was already heading to Prague tomorrow, so I didn't think it would be a big deal."
Well, that sounded more legitimate, at least. "He couldn't get his own ride?"
A younger, more muffled voice came through the line. "It's not my fault I look eight!"
"He really does look eight or nine," Odin agreed, sounding amused. "He's six months younger than Audi, he could do it anyway, but it might stand out."
"I'm not on speakerphone, am I?"
"No, but I didn't realize he could hear so well either. Sorry. I stepped out." The sharp increase in ambient wind noise confirmed what he'd thought – the three of them were on a train.
Quatre leaned against the wall next to him. He'd been about to make a sandwich when the call came in. "She has twelve-year-old agents?" The idea didn't bother him as much as it probably should, considering what he'd been up to when he was twelve, but Noin hadn't struck him as the type either.
"Mostly just students," Odin returned dismissively. "Yasa's unusual. A runaway that a few of your old friends found trying to live as a hermit near Tamanrasset October of last year. They say he was doing a pretty good job of it too, but that there was no reason to let him get so skinny when they could use the extra hands further south."
Quatre sunk all his weight against the wall, mind racing. Sure, he'd thought about trying to make south for the mountains like that, but he'd never thought they'd have a realistic chance of making it. Then again, Tamanrasset was a lot further west than where he'd been… and Adashia had been one hell of a run as it was.
Statistically, he'd known there had to be successful runaways, but he'd never been able to believe anyone ever survived an escape.
"Cat?"
Quatre shook his head a little, steadying himself. "Sorry, just… Wow. And he's… sound?" He wasn't sure how else to ask, even though that sounded terrible.
"He and Audi are in the middle of a really… animated chess game," Odin noted. "It's like watching…" He paused as he realized he didn't have appropriate code names. "Some of the matches we saw our friends play before the Fall."
An image of Duo and Auda arguing and bantering and both blatantly cheating using the arguments as a cover came to mind. "Oh dear."
"Something like that. We should still make it to Belgrade tonight, but I assumed you'd rather avoid our tagalong."
Normally, yes, because he didn't think he was ready to face the judgment of the Maguanacs and seeing any of Po's people would lead to that, but… "I need to see that," he decided. A runaway… Young, and small, so maybe they hadn't put in so much effort? But skilled enough that Noin would send him out to play agent in Europe.
He frowned. "Has he said what he thinks of… people like mine?" That might be a reason to avoid him. He'd deserve the scorn of someone who'd actually managed to save himse-
"The most common phrase seems to be 'those poor bastards,'" Odin returned, sounding amused. "I was watching him spar with the others after putting Audi through her paces and heard him tease another survivor on base as a 'Johnny Come Lately' for only showing up in Sudan after the Strike Force hit. I had to look it up."
Another survivor. And so casual like that? "We're having a long talk when you meet me in Belgrade, before I meet the kid." Either Odin was a lot more oblivious than Quatre had been willing to consider, or the two of them were miscommunicating on a really fucking deep level, and that wasn't okay.
"Yeah, sounds about right," Odin agreed in a throwaway sort of tone… and damn, but he was getting too used to reading the man when talking to him, because talking over the phone was a lot harder than he remembered it being.
"Stop picking up speech patterns from the preteens, it's embarrassing. I'll see you tonight."
Odin snickered. "Whatever," he returned smugly before hanging up.
Quatre groaned, dropping his head back against the wall. The problem with Odin was that you couldn't tell when he was genuinely off on the wrong foot or just being a complete troll.
oOo
oOo
Zurich, Switzerland
"…You're joking."
"I'm absolutely not," Jake insisted cheerfully, reaching across the table for the creamer. "It's a complete and total fabrication." He looked around at them and laughed before starting to wring out his tea bag and set it aside. "You should see your faces, shit… Calm down."
Cassidy was having really mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, Jake was obviously happy as hell, practically bouncing. The more awkward they got – except Relena, who was only shaking her head and biting back a smile, because either she already knew what the fuck was going on or had gotten even better at rolling with it than before he'd left last spring – the more perversely gleeful the colonel grew, and it was an uncomfortable sort of nostalgia to when he'd first been recruited. That was great; he'd been worried about the guy regressing back into the abyss of depression the others had reportedly dug him out of just before he came to Sarracenia.
On the other, he'd just insisted that his little brother's life was a forgery.
Jack was sitting ramrod straight now. "But, the genetic tests-"
"Oh, it's him," Jake dismissed, dropping a cube of sugar into his cup and stirring. "I talked to the bank, and that's the one thing I was ironclad about when I set this all up. I looked up the girl he met at the HTD office too." He laughed again, eyes bright, but didn't bother explaining, just shaking his head before moving on. "His attitude is fucking Odin reincarnate. And I got into the bank's camera feeds before this cycle's got deleted – he never lets his face get caught on them, and that takes practice. He's built right, he moves like me, and whoever the guy he brought with him was, they read each other's body language like they've faced combat together – that's a friend, not some lawyer he picked up last week. Who also never looks at the cameras that I know aren't easy to spot; the Antwerp branch is damn good about it. He has the skills, the blood, and he's comfortable. That means a lot." He snickered again as he poured the creamer. "But this whole 'Odin Burton' thing is a pile of shit."
Lin was frowning. "It… seemed pretty solid to me."
"I second that," Mai added, raising a hand for emphasis from her spot near the opposite wall. "And I have decent experience in this sort of thing. I started looking as soon as Dave called it in."
"Oh, it's beautifully done," Jake agreed, stirring and bringing his cup to his mouth. "Mm. Absolutely flawless in all its flaws, damn fine Winner-quality work, and if he's gotten that good at that it's no wonder I could never fucking find him. But I know for a fact that Odin Burton didn't exist in 193. Odin's a rare enough name that I had an epiphany moment that summer – Dave and I scoured every database in existence for it and got nothing. Now we have at least five of those same sources claiming he's been in their records since late 189." He took a longer drink and smirked at them over the rim of the mug. "That proves it almost as much as the damn blood test. It's Junior."
And explains why Dave thought it was an imposter, Cassidy realized.
"Ah," Des realized, coming to the same conclusion. "I thought he was concerned because of the prize."
"Someone would have to know about that in the first place," Jake dismissed, shaking his head. "And other than you, me, Dave, Lu, Treize, and Leia, the only person who could even guess that it might exist would be Junior." He rolled his eyes. "And then because Odin was Odin, there's a good chance the kid didn't. Anyone else who might suppose we were left an inheritance would assume that I'd gotten it all at this point, not kept it split in half."
"I don't think Odin ever understood the concept of money," Jack announced tiredly, leaning forward on his elbows, head in his hands.
"He really didn't," Jake agreed, sitting back with his tea in both hands. "Not in a normal way, at least. It took years of Treize making me follow embezzlers before I started to get the hang of it."
"Inheritance?" Dorothy asked probingly, setting her own tea down and tucking a piece of hair back behind one ear.
Jack shrugged, dropping his hands. "Odin always had money. He was an asexual spendthrift drifter who couldn't understand liking a place enough to want to pay rent for more than a month at a time, let alone a mortgage, but he never blinked when Rhea wanted something that involved dropping ten grand either. It made me damn uncomfortable when she asked him to cosign on a condo with us when we were expecting Jake and he just bought it outright in her name, but I got over it."
"Wait, what?" Dorothy demanded.
Jack made a face, picking up a piece of toast. "It was just how he was. And anyway, he was more of a father-in-law than a brother, and Rhea was always a daddy's girl; he treated her like a princess every chance he got."
Yeah… Cassidy decided, looking around at everyone's expressions. I definitely heard that right. Lin looked suspiciously like he wanted the ground to swallow him up while he stared a hole into the back of Jake's head, and Mai was more smug than usual. He couldn't see Dorothy's face from where he was standing, but Relena had her eyes narrowed in a speculative way.
The colonel, of course, was ignoring all of them. "Mm, that reminds me." Sitting forward again, he set down his cup and made a pawing sort of gesture at his father as he turned towards him – he was sitting with Relena on one side and Jack on the other. "It's been a while, and I meant to ask earlier but I was distracted."
"Yeah, I figured," Jack muttered agreeably, setting down his bread and wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I was surprised you didn't ask last March."
"I've been trying to give you the impression that your tattoo isn't the only reason I agree to see you every now and again," Jake argued in a happily conversational tone.
"I'd wear short sleeves if I thought you'd keep your shit together," Jack returned in the same sort of way, wiping off his hands.
"I only did that once."
"It was memorable," Jack groused, starting to unbutton the left cuff of his shirt.
Jake winced. "Yeah… I guess it would have been."
"What they're forgetting to mention," Des inserted in a dry tone from his seat next to Jack, "is that another of Odin's eccentricities was a distaste for photography, and that the only picture anyone can find of Jake's mother anymore is in her old DMV records, which looks about as good as most mug shots."
"I had a good album," Jack pointed out as he started folding his cuff up in neat rows. "But it disappeared while I served my time. They sold the apartment before Junior was born, and I never got a straight answer out of Odin about whether he'd stashed my shit somewhere or burned it all. She really liked the collection I had the artist use to draw this up, so it might still exist somewhere, but I have no idea where to start looking."
"I've never been able to find anything," Jake admitted, looking tired for a moment as he watched Jack, not meeting anyone's eyes.
"It's too bad," Jack agreed. "You were about six months old, and some of the shots of you were pretty damn adorable. Both of my blondes in full traditional get-up, you know? It was a beautiful day too; the photographer planned it really well." Lower arm now bared, he held it out in front of Jake in such a way that Relena could easily see too, smiling softly. "There. Rhea Lowe, April 177. Beautiful, isn't she?"
Dorothy made a small, squeaky noise.
"Oh, she is," Relena breathed, reaching out to gently clasp the older man's wrist as she leaned closer. Cassidy couldn't see too many details of her face from across the table, but he could make out a windswept woman with long blonde hair sitting at the base of a tree in an intricate blue and white kimono, pink flower petals dancing in the wind. It was stylized, not just a straight photograph copy; not all the lines matched the pigment, so it looked almost like a traditional Asian watercolor painting… and definitely beautiful.
Rhea Lowe. He wanted to groan as a few too many things lined up perfectly. Little details he'd dismissed before as unimportant, but now made him want to smack himself upside the head for not noticing.
Jake sighed, staring down at the tattoo. "I wish I'd actually gotten to know her."
"Me too." Jack pressed his lips tight together for a long moment, closing his eyes. "We didn't… I don't know what went so wrong. She was mad when I got arrested, but it was because I'd been arrested, not… Hell, you know her morals were as weird as your uncle's, she didn't care how many people would have died if I hadn't backed out at the last second and left the witnesses I did; she was just mad that I'd been stupid enough to get taken away and said I was never going to see her again. She'd say shit like that, though – that she never wanted to see me again, then call a week later demanding to know why the fuck I wasn't home yet. I thought she was just…" He swallowed hard, and Cassidy felt like he was intruding when the man opened his eyes and they were wet, so he looked away. "I never got to see her again."
Jake's voice sounded choked up too. "I'm sorry."
"She was just… gone. I never got to say good-bye. Odin was annoyed I'd tracked him down, you had no idea he wasn't your father, and… God help me, the boy has her skin and eyes but he looked so much like me it was eerie, and she never even told me. She named him after me and the whole pregnancy she never picked up the phone to tell me when we'd decided we couldn't have any more because of what happened with you-" Cassidy looked back up to see him pull away and bury his face in his hands again. "She was in the hospital for months with you, she shouldn't have-"
"Please don't finish that sentence," Jake cut in, sounding sick.
"She was supposed to have her tubes tied!" Jack snarled. "Don't even go there. I thought she'd already had it done, but I guess not. That or sometimes it doesn't work, I don't know. Fuck!" He dropped his head on the table edge, staring at the floor. "What the fuck, Jake, seriously?"
"Can we just pretend I didn't say anything?" Jake asked, looking like he might actually be violently ill on the table.
"God, yes," Jack grumbled, not moving. "Just… give me a minute, I can't…"
"Yeah," Jake agreed, leaning into his lap with one hand over his eyes, half curled in a ball. "I need to think about something else, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"Stop," Jack growled out, shoulders going even tighter.
"Junior is alive and well and probably doesn't know about or want either of your drama," Des announced in a calm, steady voice. "Jake is honestly trying for the first time in over a decade and it's probably due to the princess whose touch he is relaxing into while she whispers in his ear, and we are surrounded by some very bewildered military personnel who would very much like it if the two of you could both keep your heads on straight."
Okay... He hadn't met the guy before today, but he could already see why everyone seemed so chill with Noin. "Hear, hear," Cassidy mumbled under his breath.
"Jake, shut up until you can change the subject. Jack, you know the kid knows jack shit about anything to do with his mom, and that actually might have been the intelligent choice – neither of you had any say, so drop it. It doesn't matter, and I'm not in the mood for either of your little blame games today. Everyone's sorry and we're long past the time when there was any point in making the other bleed." He took a deep breath. "Dorothy, be a dear and squint your eyes a little before they manage to pop out, you're making me nervous. And someone pass the salt, please."
Lin choked out a snort, then started laughing, doubling over.
"Thank-you, Des," Relena announced, handing the shaker to Dorothy to pass around. "How long have you known about RLTT, then?"
"Since Leia tossed it all back at him in 190 because she was done holding his hand and Lucrezia dragged him through my door in the middle of a panic attack. They're bright, but they were still just a bunch of kids figuring shit out and I'm retired, not dead." He shook a small amount of salt over his fish and set about pulling it apart again. "He learned fast enough that I stopped being involved by 191, but it's not like I was going to forget."
"I so called it," Mai informed them all happily. "I'm just trying to figure out why no one else did."
"I'd get responses from the Fund while he was sitting next to me," Relena protested.
"Lena, I love you, but the man does email on his phone. And there's also such a thing as a time-delayed response – I could probably set something like that up, and I'm not a programmer. On top of that, you usually had at least a day or two between finishing a proposal with Jake and RLTT answering. If anything, he writes up a response before you even send it, then dithers for a couple days to keep you from getting too suspicious."
Jake just started laughing. Honest, wheezing, 'holy shit I can't breathe' laughing, toppling into his girlfriend and collapsing onto her lap.
"Someone be ready to jab him in the ribs if he starts turning blue," Des ordered. "I'm not entirely sure this isn't some new variant of panic attack. He was one of those babies who held his breath when he lost his temper, wasn't he?"
"Why can't I just hate you?" Jack groused tiredly, head still down. "I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be easy, so why can't I do it?"
"I don't know, that sounds like a you problem," Des retorted, taking a bite of his lunch. "He really was, wasn't he?"
"Why are you asking me something you already know the answer to?" He sat up, blowing out a deep breath. He looked back over to the royal couple and shook his head. "Hot damn, but he really is comfortable with her…"
"Congratulations," Des deadpanned. "We've found someone willing to put up with the psycho you helped make. You will, in fact, probably be a grandfather someday. Calm the fuck down and eat your sheep." Another bite. "I'd like to talk about something a little less stressful sometime today."
oOo
oOo
Munich, Germany – Sarracenia
Leia held in a sigh as the wail of an alarm sounded through the line. "That's your cue."
Her lover let out an aggravated noise. "Already, again. I thought we'd have more time. I'm sorry, I wouldn't have-"
"I would talk to you for only two minutes a day, if that's all I could have," Leia informed him sharply, before her throat closed. It had been so long since she had been able to hear his voice… "I'm not going anywhere this time. Just come back to me."
"The next window will be in your dark cycle, Saturday morning," he explained quickly.
And he would have all sorts of correspondence to manage in the brief period communications ran live, so there would be little time then, too, but it would be something. "I don't mind," she reassured him. "Even just two minutes." She wanted more, but her life had never been fair, and she knew better than to think even being with him could sate that want.
He let out another irritated noise. "It will be at least ten," he promised. "And I'll write. I miss you."
She closed her eyes, trying not to cry. Every time she said goodbye, even after hearing his voice again, it felt like it might be the last. "Don't die," she whispered. I can't go through that again. Everything she had done to keep him at arm's length over the years had been to make sure he lived, and she had nearly drowned in despair after the Fall. "I love you."
"And I you," he returned fiercely. "I-" The alarm grew louder, and he snarled before taking a deep breath and hurriedly adding, "My letter will arrive before I can call. I love you."
The line disconnected.
Leia sighed, letting her hands fall into her lap as she tipped her head back and tried to stop crying. There was no reason to be so emotional; he wasn't even anywhere near the front lines. She was just being a damn teenager again, and it was ridiculous, she knew better…
But Treize had a way of doing that to her. He always had.
She wished she could be there. They could be together again, and he could use more doctors on his staff; she even specialized in emergency and trauma. But instead she was once again being kept in a pretty manse away from the center of everything, left to wring her hands. She couldn't even work here, and that had been her solace for the past decade, the study and interminable hours as she poured her soul into medicine… and now she couldn't even do that.
Treize was waging full-scale war for colonial independence – and wasn't that a refreshing change – and Marie was off doing who knew what, but likely hip deep with Sally Po's folk now. Odin was teaching her everything she would need to survive the world they lived in, and she supported that, but she knew her darling girl well enough to realize just how much like her father she was – when faced with a choice between hiding or using her talents to protect someone else in need, she would never choose the former. Odin had promised to put it off as long as possible – had point blank told her that he didn't want Marie to kill – but they both knew it was only a matter of time.
She had hoped that she would be able to be there for her, when it happened. That Odin would be able to scoop her up and bring her home to soothe away the suffering… but that wasn't going to be possible anymore. The two of them were going to have to muddle their way through it on their own, and they would manage, but…
She had wanted to be there. She had already missed so much of Marie's life…
It had been foolish to hope that she could be there for her during the teenage years. Once again, that duty was falling to someone else, and while perhaps Odin might not have been the best choice, he was far from the worst.
And Odin… God, but he looked like Jake. She had nearly gasped when she first set eyes on him again. She'd never thought too deeply on Odin's looks beyond the fact that he was typical L1 stock, and she knew she had thought the same of Jake in the past, but the resemblance wasn't easy to dismiss. Then all the little things, the way they tipped their heads when thinking, how she'd thought it was so amusing that Odin was teaching Marie things Jake would have insisted on like they were as natural as reading and writing… If she could think of a way to do it without raising suspicion and pointing a sign directly at them, she would ask about the family Treize had told her Jake lost the same day the two of them had been reunited.
But she'd never asked before. Treize had told her the boy was fragile and she'd seen the way he soaked up Marie's presence like a sponge, so she had never pried, only dropped her daughter in his lap and pretended she was busy while he pulled himself back from the brink of self-destruction because a different child needed him. She had watched him slot the pieces of himself back together using her and Marie, Lucrezia and Treize and David as glue and never remarked on it, too worried she would disturb the process and cause something new to break.
Then, of course, her father had barged in and their delicate peace all came crashing down on their heads anyway. Still, she wouldn't trade those three precarious years – years of letters and pictures, secretive phone calls and movie nights watching ridiculous fluff with Lu while Jake rolled his eyes and played increasingly more complex games with Marie – for anything. They had brought pieces of her love back with them, and Marie had blossomed. Treize had healed from his mother's passing, and they had stopped Jake from finding a cause worth dying for, as Treize had been so terrified he would. Noin had been a breath of fresh air, the first genuine female friend she had had since learning she was pregnant; the only woman she had known at the time who didn't judge, but simply laughed and delivered another love letter while spoiling her little ginger with ridiculous adventure stories that she was mostly sure were adapted from anime.
'Love doesn't have to be complicated,' Lu had told her once, taping a sheet of pink paper into a cone for a game of make believe. 'People always act like it comes that way, but it's because they add all this drip and dross on top and try to say that was how they found it. Love just is, and when people don't know what to do with it, they get confused, and start making up rules to try and control something they don't understand.' She had smiled gently then, picking up the wrapping ribbon and starting to cut lengths of pink and orange and gold. 'In some ways, I think the two of you actually have it right, even if the circumstances could be better. Maybe you should have done things differently, but if you're happy, then there shouldn't be a problem. That's what it's supposed to be about, isn't it?' Grinning, she had started to lightly curl the ribbon. 'This is going to be an awesome princess hat. Do you have any glitter? If I'm going to do this, I should go all out. I always wanted a little sister.'
In the end, they'd weighed the thing down with so much nonsense, glitter and ribbons and sequins, that they couldn't get it to stay on Marie's head no matter how many hairpins they used. Eventually Lu had gotten the clever idea to tape it to a headband, but even then the four-year-old had kept a hand on it for hand the afternoon to keep it from falling, and she hadn't managed to get a single picture of her without it either in her eyes or her holding it up with a terribly concerned expression. The two of them had laughed until they cried watching her try to manage it, then again when Jake returned with the pictures after they had been developed. He'd looked at them like they had lost their minds… and maybe they had, a little, but that had just made it all the more hilarious.
She smiled at the memory, wiping at her eyes and looking up at the overcast sky, trying to recollect her thoughts. Jake only meant well, but so long as Zechs was in a position of power and Odin could keep Marie hidden, it was safest to not do anything that might draw attention to them. He had a less than stellar record for tracking Heero Yuy by his own account – though by Odin's telling, he'd gotten far closer than he gave himself credit for – but there was no reason to give him the keys to unravel everything while the political situation was still so unstable. She and Odin had planned for this possibility; just not that she might find herself back in friendly territory and wanting to re-initiate contact.
In hindsight, she probably should have told them more about Jake, but she'd grown so used to his absence over the past decade that it had seemed… inconsequential. She had forgotten how fiercely protective he could be; or at least, she hadn't expected him to be so about her, given the chance. And Treize being alive changed everything, of course, spinning the young colonel into a little brother again instead of another reminder of what she had lost. She could admit, now, that she had avoided him because seeing him without a new letter would have hurt so deeply, but… Well, now she felt rather silly.
You can't change the past. She was here now, she was in contact with Treize again however intermittently, and Odin would never let any harm come to Marie unless it tore a hole through him first. Jacob had her back in a comfortingly real way she hadn't even realized she missed even if he couldn't help but keep her a prisoner, and he had said they knew Noin was alive, if nothing else. She may have wanted more, but all the same, this was better than she had dreamed possible six months ago.
It would be enough. For now. The future was always negotiable.
oOo
oOo
November 1st 198 – Friday – Prague, Czech Republic
"It's good to finally meet you in person," Sally greeted warmly, shaking the kid's hand. She wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do with him, since she could hardly send someone out alone who might get picked up by Child Protective Services and she didn't have a partner ready for him yet, but Lucrezia had insisted he was getting stifled in Africa and needed to do something more directly productive. It made sense – honestly, she'd been surprised they'd managed to keep him in one place for as long as they had given how he'd been on his own beforehand. If you didn't want talent to burn out, you expanded the boundaries as soon as the student could grasp the edges of them.
But she also didn't have any true sword specialists outside of Xu, and they'd partnered him with Hilde for a reason. Abdul had said the boy was passing up their abilities to outclass the boy further south, though, so she had to work out something before he either regressed or got cocky enough to get himself killed.
God, but she wished she had real students instead of cadets. Lucrezia just didn't understand the difference between the worlds of academia and military training.
"You too, Dr. Po," Yasa returned cheerfully, giving her hand a firm shake. "But you're out of ideas too, aren't you?"
Smart. She'd been warned of that, but there wasn't much to do when someone was so perceptive. "For now," she admitted. "I'm working on it, though." If Hilde can solidify her partnership with Adam a little more, then that will be that. Chang and Schbeiker had done wonders for each other's growth and they did make a good team, but maybe it was time to move things along. Hilde was expanding more into networks and espionage while Xu remained more of a heavy hitter, and they'd both been leveling out. Giving Xu an apprentice might be the next best step.
He nodded, clearly not bothered. "I might be on to something?" he offered.
"Oh?" That hadn't occurred to her – though perhaps it should have. Lu had warned her he wasn't afraid to act independently. And then she shipped him off with Heero.
Considering the things she heard about 'Audi', she had an idea what he might be suggesting, but it didn't seem prudent either. The ex-pilot was deadly without doubt, but even if the man were willing to take a second apprentice, it would be a waste of the swordplay potential.
Though now that she had met the child herself, she planned to ask about the phone network. Lucrezia had been appropriately impressed, and insisted that it was something they ask the girl about, not Odin – though advised that it should be done while the man was in the same room. Her general had informed her enough of what Heero was up to with this visit that she had been able to hand off a notebook for initial perusal before pulling Yasa aside for a private chat with the promise to be back in a few minutes to discuss details.
Almost as if he was reading her mind, the boy pulled out a phone identical to Lucrezia's – a relatively popular new model, but she had no doubt it was one of the ones Audi had tinkered with. "Do you have one of these yet?"
Sally smiled. "That was on the agenda for our talk today."
He nodded again. "Makes sense. She's made about forty so far, though they're not all the same model. I got walked through the basics on it last night, and it's a lot tighter than what Koln said Stew put together for us. The General's been testing it, hasn't she?"
Forty? That was… either an oddly high number, or a very low one. "She recommended we ask for a consult," she agreed. "They offered her one as a friend, and she's been impressed."
"I don't get what the deal is, but I think she can do it to most of the common phones on the market," Yasa informed her seriously. "There's definitely something about hardware involved, but mostly it's programming." He shook his head. "Almost makes me wish I'd done more than learn how to type in school, but listening to the two of them talk about it is like… Greek. Maybe Stew could follow it, but…" He shook his head again. "Has the General said why he hasn't joined up? I was there when he flew Heavyarms, and she's on the fast track to becoming a mini version of him only… taller."
Sally didn't bother to hide a smile at that. Audi was taller – though, with Odin still shy of 5'5 in boots, that wasn't exactly surprising. "They've been vague," she admitted. "And past experience has suggested it's unwise to push. He hasn't shown any interest in leaving and we weren't ready to forward our agenda yet, so we've given him space." She paused for a moment before asking, "Why forty?"
He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "Yeah, that's the thing; you guys seem to think he's completely on his own out there. She made a big network with a ton of phones for all their friends plus spares the same time as she did the General's." He tucked the phone back in his pocket. "I met a couple of them last night."
…Okay, I wasn't expecting that. Odin had always presented himself as an individual. "Oh?" As far as she was aware, he'd never even hinted at anyone other than the girl.
Yasa brought up his hands in a surrendering sort of gesture. "The first two I saw, he might have only known in passing. Audi said one of their names like a question then bounced when she got a nod from him, but the third slid in and out of his space like they'd been doing it for years, and Odin was more relaxed with him than even his sister."
"She's not really his sister," she pointed out automatically, mind racing.
"No, she totally is," Yasa argued. "I just spent the past two days with them, I could feel how he was watching me, and that's what's going on. It doesn't have anything to do with who their parents were; that's his little sister, and she treats this guy like her big brother's best friend. They know him, and whoever else these phones were made for, I'll bet they're tight with the friend. The other two, they…" He shook out his hands in a frustrated way. "I don't know how to say this."
She forced out a slow breath. "Just… try, please."
He looked up and to the side, lips pursed. "At first, I thought the attitude was because I was pretty up front about where I was the last couple of years, and like I said, this is Odin's best friend, right? I could tell he knew before the two of them came inside; they were out walking and talking, catching up, for a long while. I was getting ready for a cold shoulder, because Audi and Odin were laid back about it before we left Africa, but they're not normal."
He paused again, thinking, and Sally's eyes narrowed. "At first?"
"Well, when he started talking to me, he was really just curious," Yasa admitted. "Which, okay, less common, but not new either; that's how most of the Maguanacs were, and it's kinda refreshing when it happens. But then the other two perked up the exact same way."
He was staring at her meaningfully, waiting for something. "I don't follow."
He rolled his eyes. "People don't do that, Doc. Not all together like that without rehearsing, not unless they're all on exactly the same page, and nobody is about Cambyses. They wanted to know how I got out, in detail. And the friend knew an awful lot about finding water in the Sahara, though he blinked over some of the mountain stuff I mentioned. He knew dunes, not rock, and he was too white to be local."
Her lips went numb. "You're saying they were there."
"Probably a lot further east, but yeah, I think so," Yasa confirmed. "They seem like pretty good guys, too – Audi got to bouncing with one of them like they were a couple of girls talking make-up, only instead it was knives, and Odin just rolled his eyes and started shuffling papers with Cat. They were talking in Japanese until they realized I was trying to listen, then switched to… I think French? After I'd talked to Cat a while, the other two warmed up completely, like we'd all been school friends or something, and I got pulled into watching this dumb pre-Fall sitcom Mark insisted was awesome before we fell asleep."
"Cat?" No… Her cheeks were tingling now too.
He rolled his eyes. "It's a fake name, but yeah, they were calling the friend Cat. You know, like meow? Anyway, he was wearing a duster style coat to keep the short saber at the back of his waist from being too obvious, and he moves like a swordsman too. I was going to ask if he'd spar, but he was already gone when I woke up this morning."
Quatre. Heero had said Quatre disappeared suddenly when they were in Israel, and they knew, now, that Cambyses had definitely raided as far north as Jerusalem, though rarely. If Lucrezia had the timeline right, that would have been while Heero was still too laid up to get by with anything less than crutches, not going outside at all; he might not have realized just how bad an idea it was to be alone outside at night. God, no one knew anything about Cambyses back then. There had been rumors, but it was like listening to people talk about the coming zombie apocalypse – no one had taken it very seriously. Xu had stumbled across them mostly by accident while trying to scout a safe route from Sudan, and it was only afterwards that anyone really believed the threat might be real.
The locals and newly transplanted Americans had been dead or enlisted by the tens of thousands by then, and it had only gotten worse.
"Doc?"
"I'm sorry," she apologized, shaking herself and offering Yasa a wan smile. "I just… wasn't expecting that." Tiny empathic Quatre had made it through the Cambyses meat grinder. And she bet he'd managed just as much tactical genius in slipping away there as at Libra or when he managed the Maguanacs, instead of Yasashiku's 'take my chance, run hard, and pray' approach. If he had people still following him after they were free – Thirty, maybe, for forty phones plus spares? – it was because he had earned that loyalty.
Quatre, like Heero just didn't do things halfway.
"I'd like you to keep this to yourself, for now," she decided.
"I don't think you need to worry," Yasa insisted. "Odin's weird, but his judgment's pretty good, right? And like I said, they seemed pretty okay."
"I'm not worried," she reassured him. Maybe she should be, but if this was Quatre then there was hardly any point – and with what Yasa had picked up, she couldn't think of anyone but Quatre that Odin might be so easy around. Hilde had said things were a little stilted between him and Adam, but… He'd spent over a year being carried across Europe by Quatre, the two of them surviving by the skin of their teeth. It made sense.
"You don't have to lie to me," the young American told her skeptically. "I know I look like one, but I don't get to be a kid anymore, and I'm not stupid."
"I'm… really not worried," she repeated, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of her. That's three out of five, then. "This is good." She focused on the boy again. "What did you want to suggest?"
He eyed her suspiciously for another moment before relaxing. "Let me see if I can keep talking to them, maybe running around, until you've got whatever idea pulled together. Audi's pretty cool and Odin doesn't seem to mind me; I might just be able to tag along if you let me talk to them and make myself useful. And I have Cat's phone number too now – I can text him and see if he might show me a thing or two.
"One of the first things Audi said to me was that they were our allies." He spread his hands to either side, palm up. "Let's make friends." Shrugging a little uncomfortably, he added, "And hey, if they were actually sane inside that hellhole somehow, maybe I'll meet somebody I can relate to instead of just get on with. Could be worse, right?"
When I realized Lucrezia approved of this boy, she mused, I didn't think it was because he was her same brand of casually brilliant. The other woman had emphasized his mental stability and skills with a blade before all else, and said he was smart, but she'd never mentioned this.
"Absolutely. Let's see what we can do."
oOo
oOo
November 2nd 198 – Saturday – Zurich, Switzerland
"The Newberg proposal still needs work," Relena muttered, frowning as she dug through her toiletry bag.
"I didn't disagree," Jake returned as he opened dresser drawers, making sure nothing had been missed. "The relations between the Desautels and Zotovich just strike me as more pressing. I know you don't like opening a new can of worms before you finished sealing the last, and normally I'd agree, but there's always an exception to the rule, and this is starting to look like one." He moved over to the bed and started tossing pillows onto the floor.
Vaughn watched curiously. "Need any help, Boss?" Sitting while the princess and the billionaire went through their last minute routines was making him feel a little awkward, but at the same time, he'd already done this search. Jake's fussing looked more like a habit to calm his nerves than a belief that Vaughn was going to leave something behind, but it still stung a little.
"If you want," Jake returned distractedly, stripping off the sheets. "Or you can just go back to watching battle footage."
Vaughn rolled his eyes and stood, setting the tablet down on top of his knapsack. "You don't have to be passive aggressive about it."
"Mm?" The blonde man paused, blinking over at him, then seemed to rewind the conversation. "Oh, I was serious." He gestured at the mattress before reaching for a corner. "Anything interesting?"
He was a little at a loss for why they were moving furniture in the hotel room they were about to leave, but whatever. "The new suits the other guys have are freaking huge," he said instead as he lifted his corner. "They make ours look like hobbits in comparison, and they're armed for bear. There's not enough footage to really get an idea of overall formation, but their strategies are pretty damn effective." He looked down at the box springs, and the two bigass shotguns nestled there along with a handful of other nasty-looking tools. "Seriously?"
Jake shrugged, holding up his end with one hand so he could reach down and sling the gun straps over his shoulder, then sweep the rest of his crap off onto the floor. "Worst case scenario," he offered by way of explanation.
"What is that even loaded with?" He didn't recognize the model of either – they looked custom, the bigger maybe even homemade.
"Nothing you ever want to see in action," the other man deflected, dropping the mattress back down.
"Is that a fucking rocket launcher?" he hissed.
"I'd need rockets for that." He was smiling, his tone cheerfully glib as he moved over to one of the armchairs and started disassembling the artillery.
"Did you make those?" He couldn't decide if he was in awe or exasperated.
"For subtle, precision work," Jake informed him, "I prefer to buy. There are a lot of little details that I don't have the practice to consistently manage myself, without even getting into how time-consuming it gets. Most arms manufacturers will outperform anything I can machine by hand, and their explosives tend to be more stable than what I can put together – better shelf life, safer in touchy situations."
"But?"
He shrugged, continuing to pull things apart. "If you're trying to knock a Leo out of commission, you don't really care about subtle. The advantage of facing an MS on foot is that they're just about impossible to miss, and their sensors are relatively obvious. Knock those out, and it doesn't matter if he has endless ammo: he can't tell who he's shooting, and friendly fire from an MS is too serious to risk, nine times out of ten." He shrugged. "Or with a good eye and just the right shape to the charge, and you can force an internal collapse of the cockpit without popping the hatch. Systems don't even acknowledge the pilot death right away, since the seal is still patent – it just thinks it isn't getting any new input."
Christ. He'd honestly never really thought about trying to go up against a mobile suit while on foot – it was tantamount to suicide. Or at least, he'd thought it was.
"You can go after the engines too, they're a bigger target, but there's a higher chance of blowback and killing yourself while only disabling the suit," Jake added, picking up a suitcase and starting to settle the pieces inside, handling the single shell he'd removed from the tube with deft care.
"You were sleeping on that?" Vaughn asked incredulously.
"The barrel is made out of neotitanium and the explosive head is C4; I have to activate three different triggers in succession to set it off, and I can't pull the first unless I insert the key." He held up his wrist to emphasize the dark gunmetal bracelet he'd been wearing since they'd set up shop here Thursday morning. "It's safer than most handguns."
"Vaughn?" Relena called from the bathroom. "Based on the footage, where do you think public opinion is going to fall? Do we look like we're winning?"
"You're fucking crazy," Vaughn hissed at Jake – who just looked pleased as he started pulling apart the thing that looked more like a classic shotgun – before clearing his throat. "It… could probably go either way?" He offered, moving towards the princess. "They're big and intimidating, but the only clips released show us overwhelming them."
"So the press is favoring my brother," she decided, turning the light off behind her as she stepped out and moving to drop her toiletries in the pile of suitcases by the door. "According to reports, the colonials tore through at least two platoons like they were paper that same battle, and it was hardly subtle."
"Not necessarily," Jake murmured quietly, just loud enough for them to register. "He won't want much footage of him slaughtering young soldiers on the net down the line when he plays the hero. Our suspiciously well-placed camera men and women with the news might just be covering their asses to avoid Regime retaliation, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were lending the opposition an ear too."
That made sense enough, he supposed. There were a lot of ways the currently available footage could be spun, on both sides. I guess they like keeping their options open.
"For our purposes, the press is currently favoring my brother," Relena insisted, resting her hands on her hips as she looked around the room. "Everyone else is gone?"
Vaughn nodded. Mai was napping for evening shift with the night shift in the back of Mars' van, Cassidy was taking a last minute run in the fitness center, and Lin had just gone to settle the bill downstairs. "As soon as Lin's back, I can go bring the car around. Unless…?" He shrugged, giving Jake a questioning look. Obviously, Relena was safe with him, but they hadn't worked out all the details of taking him out of rotation.
The colonel looked thoughtful, but as he opened his mouth Vaughn's phone went off – the bouncy banjo ditty that made Marsden roll his eyes so hard that he'd had to use it for the other guard. Holding up one hand in a 'wait' gesture, he pulled it out and hit connect – Mars shouldn't be calling him right now, he was halfway to Bern. "Recine speaking."
"Change of plans," Mars drawled, voice tight. "My scouts are recalled, and one never showed up for muster this morning. Everyone stay put until we're back. Report just got called three minutes ago. Lin's already on his way back up."
A stone settled in Vaughn's gut. "I hear you. What's your timeline?"
"With this traffic? An hour, perhaps more. Coordinate with the ladies so Lincoln's hands are less full?"
"Can do. Drive safe." He held up his hand in another stalling gesture as Relena started to ask something, and hit the speed dial for Daniella.
"Hey, what's up?"
"You guys are still in your rooms?" Dorothy and Olivia had stayed in the first hotel, not wanting to raise suspicion with the move.
She huffed out an amused breath. "It's six-thirty in the morning, of course Dorothy's still in bed. Olivia's drinking coffee with me, but we're still in our pajamas. What's going on?"
"Not sure yet, but maybe something big. Wake her up and get packed, but don't go anywhere. I'll be in touch once I know more."
"Oh… Okay." He could almost see her smile soften as she bit at her lip nervously. "Nothing dangerous, though, right?"
"This would be a different kind of call if I thought so," he agreed. "But I'm not sure. Act like it is until I say otherwise, please."
"Okay. Just… let me know when you can."
"Absolutely. Talk to you in a bit." Hitting end, he met eyes with the other two in the room. "I have no idea, but it's low key; Lin knows more."
Relena's lips tightened and she strode quickly to her bag, pulling out a tablet. Jake, meanwhile, was casting a newly calculating look over the suite of rooms. "What did de Leon say, exactly?"
"One of his day scouts vanished on him – he didn't say which one. Something about a report too, so it's more than just that, but he wants to regroup." The colonel nodded, eyes shifting into the distance.
Someone knocked on the door.
A gun materialized in Jake's hand while the bright haze of adrenaline settled over everything; Lin wouldn't be knocking. Feeling like he was moving in slow motion, heartbeat crawling, Vaughn pulled his sidearm from his hip and slid towards the entrance of the penthouse suite, past the couches and the dining room, ready to dart away. The knocking started again, loud and insistent… but he wasn't inclined to use the peephole, because that was a great way to get a bullet to the brain.
At the same time, he wasn't sure how far off Lin was, and if this was just housekeeping he was going to collapse out of sheer embarrassment while he waited for his senses to level back out. "Who is it?" he called in a normal voice, a corner between him and the door.
"It's Des," the older man's baritone called back immediately, voice irritated. "Let me in already!"
What? It sounded like the older man, but he should already be at the airport. "How did you get up here?" The executive elevator was the only official way, and you needed a key card to make it work. The emergency stairs were only accessible in the case of true emergencies, so if it really was Noin, then it didn't make sense how he was there.
"Lincoln keyed me up before running to grab something out of the car," Des called back. "Are you seriously going to make me wait out here until he comes back?"
Vaughn scowled. "I'm thinking about it, yeah!"
"Ass!"
"You're not earning any favors, you know!" He rolled his eyes. "What are you even doing here?"
"That's what I want to know! Where the hell is Jake?"
"Texting you!" Jake called back from the bedroom. "What do you say?"
There was a pause, some shuffling noises, then a snort. "Zap!"
What the fuck?
Jake was rolling his eyes, gun away, as he came to the door. "You're alone out there?"
"Do I need to take pictures?" came the irritated reply.
The colonel pulled the door open, and sure enough, Desiderio Noin was standing there with his arms crossed, a suitcase at his feet. "You remember that Lena is a princess, don't you?" He picked up the bag. "Come on. I thought you said you weren't going to swing by before your flight home."
"Until I was in a cab and got a message saying my flight was canceled, sure. I had him turn this way instead, and caught Lin in the lobby. What the hell is going on?" He sent a tired smile at Relena when she came into the room, to which she just shook her head and came over to give him a hug like she had during their goodbyes yesterday.
"We were just trying to figure that out ourselves," she explained. "They didn't say why?"
"I hadn't gotten that far yet, we were right by the exit for the hotel when I read the text," he grumbled. "Cass isn't going to be happy, though. Lyle has an ear infection; she's barely slept."
"I'll get you on the next available flight to Rome," Jake assured him, messing with his phone. "Vaughn, I've got things up here, I need you to go collect Cassidy. He's not answering, which probably means he's washing up, but I want to be sure."
He was going to start getting the jitters if he kept standing here anyway. "Got it." Stepping out, he headed down the hall to call the elevator. Hopefully we'll have answers by the time I get back. He tapped his foot waiting for it to arrive.
Or not. Cassidy Foreman stood there frowning when the doors opened up, hair damp. "What's going on?"
Vaughn just rolled his eyes and turned to walk back up the hall. I'm done. "Come on," he called back over his shoulder. He didn't know Foreman all that well yet, but he didn't want to be rude either; he was just too keyed up to be decent company right now. Spun tight, and nothing to let loose on.
It was a shitty way to start off the day. None of this boded well.
"Sir?" Cassidy called as they came back in, frowning at their guest. "Noin?" Focusing back on Jake he added, "I was just getting out of the shower; thought it would be faster to show up than answer."
Jake nodded in agreement, playing with his phone. "Have a seat, Captain, I'm still trying to get to the bottom of this. De Leon initiated the round-up, so I'm behind the curve here."
"Oh," Relena murmured softly. "Oh, no, of course…" She looked up from her tablet, seated across the coffee table from the rest of them, eyes serious as she focused on Jake. "We should have seen this coming, with the start of the engagements in space. I don't know why we didn't."
"Seen what?" Cassidy demanded tersely, moving towards her.
With a gentle grimace, she spun her tablet around to face the rest of them. The screen showed a news headline… and the title made Vaughn's stomach drop and his ears buzz.
oOo
Italy Secedes!
oOo
oOo
oOo
Disclosure
oOo
*takes a bow*
Thoughts, opinions? I feel like a whole lot and literally nothing happened here, but I'm not sure how much of that is because I had to avoid the 100 page chapter for sake of personal sanity. Who had RLTT right? I feel like Priya's plotline, with the addition of Taylor, is now obvious if you hadn't already put it together, but I'm the author, and it's hard to tell sometimes. Reeeeaaaaaallllly looking forward to Quatre interacting with Sally's people… it was getting kinda ridiculous.
Sometimes simple solutions are the best – Occam's Razor and all that, and Survival is periodically hilarious if you go reread some of Jake and Relena's interactions and arguments knowing that Jake is both a spy for Treize and the proprietor of RLTT. You might want to go look at Dorothy's absurd theories in Ch. 19 about RLTT, or Jake calming Relena down when she's freaking out in Ch. 20 and 22… Jake's reaction to hearing Dorothy's theory that Rhea Lowe wants to have Relena's babies and they should name two of them Heero and Jake, in 22. Or how Relena was thinking about she was getting really fast responses from RLTT while Jake was away, taking Dorothy to the hospital after the club scare. Et cetera. Survival was written with the intention that it would be entertaining to reread if you knew the secrets, because the hints are tucked literally just about everywhere.
…Does this count as a cliffhanger?
