Chapter 74: Jalisco Square
Their arrival on L2 was uneventful.
Like every colony, clusters of docks funneled through to customs and then out into a public area with options for taxis and ground transport. Passengers went through one screening process, and any cargo unloaded went through another. The main difference on L2 was how easy smuggling goods in and out of the colony was. A little money to grease the wheels and you could get almost anything through. The problem was that paying customs agents went two ways. If someone wanted to know when Preventers came to the colony, they only needed to pay off the right personnel.
Duo's part was simple. He'd head through on his own and bring only his knives and a handgun. No one would question those items heading into L2 because the colony did not have a full ban on firearms. Customs wouldn't bat an eye so long as the proper fees were paid. Heavy weaponry was banned once the war ended, but a handgun required permits and steep fees. According to Duo, this was partly to keep the locals from being able to afford the weapons, which kept police and gangs as the main sources of power, and partly to prevent bored colonists from shooting and damaging the colony itself. If a gunshot was reported, police would arrive and levy fees. Even gangs who carried typically used their guns sparingly in order to avoid paying off the cops.
When Wufei heard this, he cursed. Power and capitalism ruled L2, nothing else.
The others would bring similar weaponry and leave the rest of their haul on the ship. Duo commented that their heads were in the right place when they grabbed gear, but reasonably most of it wouldn't be used. If they encountered violence, these days that typically meant hand to hand combat and maybe, maybe a few handguns.
His friends were not happy with losing their weapons of choice, but after discussing the circumstances of L2 and how best to blend in, they relented.
Quatre seemed to still have a hard time understanding how Duo came up with the ransom money so quickly. Several times during the trip he brought up the money and it made Duo want to scream. At first, he snapped that he didn't steal the money, and his friends all looked uncomfortable. Wufei softly clarified that none of them thought he was a thief, but it did little to calm Duo because over the years it became painfully obvious that thief was always considered an insult in their eyes. Trowa understood Duo better than the others, but he still went along with their thinking.
He was a thief in his youth. He stole out of necessity so he could live, and he was proud of that. In addition, he was proud to live a life in which he was finally able to give rather than take. He never considered the word thief to be an insult unless the accusation was leveled at someone who didn't need to steal, but chose to steal.
Eventually, as Quatre continued to question him, he admitted only that he'd emptied all of his savings accounts and, to make up the difference, sold his bike.
The gravity of him selling his bike was not lost on his friends.
They all knew it was 100% custom, including an engine that could only be graciously called "rebuilt" and more accurately labeled as brand new technology. Duo designed it to be hyper-efficient, and given how well it ran they were certain he'd bounced ideas for it off Mike Howard himself. The entire machine was maintained perfectly, and he absolutely loved it. At the news it was sold, Wufei and Trowa locked eyes. The two of them were familiar with just how much a bike like Duo's was worth. While it was significantly more expensive than the average automobile, it would likely cover just one third of the ransom demanded. They realized, together, that their friend had significantly more funds at his disposal than they thought.
It was not, however, the time to address his finances.
After much debate about how to handle the hostage situation, they agreed to split up. Team A, or Duo, would play along with whatever was demanded. Team B would prioritize the kids. Heero hated the plan, but there was no talking Duo out of it. In his eyes the kids came first.
As they prepared to disembark, Duo stopped.
"Listen, I dunno how sophisticated or basic this operation is, so we gotta assume they'll be watching. I'll leave first. I trust you all know what distance to follow so we don't look like we've come off the same ship."
Heero reached out and gently grabbed Duo's wrist. The concern in his eyes was subtle but unmistakable. Still, he noticed him flinch slightly, a holdover from when touch was forbidden in public. "Stay safe, Duo."
The uncertainty on Duo's face told Heero he didn't know what would be an acceptable response. He didn't let him guess for long. He stepped forward and pulled Duo close to kiss him. The gentle pressure and chaste nature spoke volumes about the restrained emotion driving his action. He felt one of Duo's hands hesitantly come up to hold his arm before they broke apart.
When Duo finally got his wits about him, he whispered "I'll be okay if we stick to the plan. You stay safe, too, and I'll see you on the other side of this." He turned to their friends to address them once more as he released Heero. "They're in your hands, now."
Violet eyes landed on Wufei for a moment of best friend telepathy, then shifted to Trowa for one final word. "I trust you."
He walked out towards the terminal and customs line before anyone could reply. He hated goodbyes, especially preceding a mission. The finality unnerved him.
It was no surprise when his phone rang not long after he passed customs. The number displayed Sister Elise's name. He didn't bother with greetings.
"I've just arrived on L2."
"I know. Meet me at 33rd and San Leandro."
"Hey, where..." Duo's voice trailed off when he heard the line disconnect. He was being watched, which wasn't too surprising. On L2 there were any number of people you could pay to camp out and look for someone exiting a shuttle port. He gave the destination to his driver and sent two texts, the second one was to Heero.
I'm not going to the orphanage but I'm still betting the kids are there. Stick to the plan, cariño.
He leaned his head back and gazed out the window at the colony's crumbling infrastructure, with sprinkles of new construction popping up every so often. Trips here were never pleasant. Many of the newer construction efforts lost funding partway through or took years instead of months to build. The colony was a visual and functional mess. When his phone vibrated in his hand, he looked down to see Heero texted back.
Roger that. Be careful, baka.
As corner shops and apartments gave way to boarded up store fronts and a few industrial buildings, traffic eased into nothing and pedestrians were replaced with a few people lingering about. He caught sight of some kids ducking into alleys and wondered what their stories were, knowing even if he spoke to them he'd never ask. There were some things you just didn't ask a street kid.
The memories of his time on the streets were a mixed bag.
He recalled the fear vividly. Fear of adults. Fear of other kids who weren't part of his gang. Fear of not having enough of everything: food, water, clothing, shelter. He never even wore shoes that fit until the church. But there were good times, too. Friendships made, the thrill of stealing just the right thing to provide what the gang needed, and narrowly dodging a fight.
His stealth expertise was born from the need to avoid every fight possible. He was living on the streets at age four, or that was how old people guessed he was at the time. For years he was tiny, inexperienced, and weak. One hit, one bad fall, could've killed him. The only way to live through a scrap was not to participate, and that meant sneaking his way out of confrontation. Solo once told him he was a master of diversion, and sometimes, when he set charges to divert the attention of an enemy while working, he felt his old friend over his shoulder, watching him. It was bittersweet.
The colony may look different from when he lived there, but it broke his heart to see how little really changed.
Winning the war was supposed to bring stability to L2.
What was any of that fighting for, if not stability?
He shook his head. He didn't need to think of that now. His focus should be on his mission.
Duo glanced to the front of the vehicle and appreciated how on L2 there were rarely questions when money was involved. Back on earth a cabbie might chat him up, but on L2 people knew when to keep quiet. The silence was comfortable, even as he steeled himself for the task ahead, willing away the uneasy feeling in his gut. He wasn't sure if the feeling was because of his reason for returning, or because it was the first time since Hilde he'd come to L2.
Maybe it was that lingering bad feeling from when Sally got called to work at the last minute. Something about that didn't sit well and he wasn't quite sure what felt so terribly wrong. There were a lot of things that made him itch to leave L2.
Not even Preventers business had been able to draw him back, and he'd made it clear to Une no missions to the colony would be accepted.
It wasn't that he'd given up on his home colony. If he'd given up he wouldn't have supported Elise and the kids. But he held hope, against all reason and odds, that with financial and emotional support those kids could make something of themselves. Elise was the emotional support. And he was the money.
All of the kids were good in his eyes, but many of them came from rough backgrounds. Their trust was hard earned, and he understood that well. Something he valued in Elise was how she'd studied to be a therapist before she turned to the cloth. Duo didn't care much for her church ties, but he valued her ability to counsel the children and guide them in overcoming their traumas. She never relied on indoctrinating them, but rather she spoke to connect with them as individuals. If the children wanted to know more about her faith she would speak to it. If they did not bring it up she kept that to herself. He considered her one of the best in terms of religion. Her faith was her own, and guided her to be kind to others. She did not consider her faith the only true path.
Because of this, she worked wonders with the kids. In time even the hardest of the children came around to trust Elise and learned to blossom in their own ways. And he made sure they were housed, fed, and provided for. The kids were far from spoiled, but they weren't lacking anything, either. Duo worked with Elise to give them the opportunity to experience childhood like he never had, and to grow up and be who they wanted.
He felt they really would make it in life.
Comparatively, his own story was nothing. He didn't make it so much as he survived long enough to be useful. He learned to soothe himself and cope on his own, and it showed in the difficulties he faced when trying to connect with others beyond a surface acquaintance. The trust issues and constant fear that anything he had could be taken without a moment's notice followed him into adulthood. No amount of smoothing things over with a smile and a joke fixed the deficits his traumas left in their wake.
Those kids deserved better than he got.
He did, too.
And so did Hilde, who lived and died on this stupid colony for reasons he would never understand.
Duo did his best to keep his mind off of Hilde, and Elise, and the kids, and instead peered out the window. Life seemed to return to the streets and slowly Duo began to recognize what part of the colony they were driving through. The drumming of his heartbeat overtook his ears and his blood ran cold. Under his breath he asked "This Jalisco Square?"
The driver heard him and scoffed. "That's where ya askedta go, that's where I'm takinya. Change your mind or somethin?"
"Nah," he quickly replied. "Just never knew the intersection."
"But you been 'ere?"
Duo swallowed hard. "Yeah. Been 'ere once. Was 'nuf for me."
The driver said nothing more, though he eyed his passenger suspiciously when Duo slipped into an old speech pattern. Those eyes bore into him from the rear-view mirror, and Duo knew why. Anyone suddenly starting to talk like a local was suspicious. He'd worked hard to shake his native speech patterns once the Sweepers took him, and learned to adapt based on his company. It was the same as when he was on the streets and flipping languages. The goal was to put those around him at ease.
Somewhere along the way he lost track of what it sounded like when he was at ease. He wasn't sure how he spoke when actually relaxed, but he'd bet he sounded a mixed up mess.
The rest of the ride was quiet. When Duo scanned his phone to pay and got out of the car he could viscerally feel his stomach dropping. Instinctively he turned to his right. A short block away people waited for a bus. He remembered arriving at that stop well, how he stepped off the bus and headed towards the building he was now standing outside of, and how happy he was then, even though he felt his life was in shambles.
He was always happy with Hilde. They had such a carefree friendship. At the worst of times, for him or her, they always laughed and had fun. She could call him crying and they'd still end up laughing and enjoying themselves.
Turning back to what was undoubtedly his destination, he did his best not to show any weakness. It was likely someone was here watching him, just as it was likely they knew exactly what they were doing when they chose this rendezvous point. What was one more fucking thing they knew about him, on top of the rest?
His pocket vibrated once more, this time with a text.
Meet me in the food court by the fountain.
Duo didn't need to ask for further instructions. He was very familiar with that spot. Knowing he must be watched, he decided on a whim to forward the text to Wufei. It would look suspicious to text after getting a call, but the time it took to forward the message was at most two seconds. He doubted the action would be noticed, and the more exacting the information he shared in case of emergency, the better.
He didn't want Heero to think his feelings were dismissed.
His walk up the stairs outside and into the building was a heavy burden. His steps did not falter, but his heart was doing its best to somersault out of his chest. The same automatic doors as last time opened for him, silent in their greeting. He could hear the thrum of people, that buzzing which often prevailed in public spaces. There was no need to check the building map, lit up as an information booth. If he hadn't already known where he was going the smell of fast food would guide him.
This location was one he'd never forget, from the cheap flooring poorly masquerading as stone to the rhythmic sound of a programmed fountain synchronized to faint music. He remembered the fountain's position in an area of the food court that opened up to the second a third floors above it, and how even on a colony where the people had so little, they still tossed nearly worthless coins into that water to make a wish. When he was a kid, he'd have stolen those wishes in a second to buy himself hot food.
Above the fountain, the second and third floors had waist high glass partitions to prevent people from plunging to the ground below while keeping their view of the wholly unimaginative architecture intact. Folks liked to lean over and watch kids on the small playground next to the eat-in area, or search for friends on the lower level.
Colonies needed these kinds of shopping centers. They didn't have a lot of real estate to work with and a central spot for shopping made errands convenient. It didn't eliminate small shops, but it did make things easier when you needed something beyond the essentials.
But it was the layout of that food court he knew best.
Duo was well aware that you could take position above the court, on either of the upper levels, and have full view of the first floor below. You could do a lot of things with that view, perched high with few obstructions between yourself and the people below. The vantage point was versatile. You could enjoy it as a child taking in the fountain, as a teenager doing people watching, as a pickpocket looking for a mark, or as a maniac looking to terrorize.
He swallowed hard.
The last time Duo was in that food court he held Hilde in his arms as she bled the death on the cold, cheap floor of the Jalisco Square Shopping Mall. All the while that stupid fountain cheerfully changed colors and continued to put on a show, tone deaf to the horrors that just unfolded around it.