"The Darkest Reflection"

Written By: Impish

Rating: strong R

Pairings: main 1+2+1, background 2+3, OFC+5 and 4+3

Category: Duo POV with angst, action, drama and politics.

Warnings: creepiness, more graphic images and gore

Summery: The earth sphere has moved on into an age of peace, but Duo is fighting battles of his own. He has reluctantly joined the Preventers, and is surprised to see Heero sign up as well. With an assassin on the loose and an increase in suspicious activity, he’s beginning to realize the fine line between genius and insanity, and how easily it can be erased.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. Surprise! And none of the songs or titles belong to me, either.

"The Darkest Reflection"

CHAPTER 14: The Start of Something Beautiful

"You look so cool, so cool, so enviably cool"
-"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" by Tennessee Williams


Secrets.

Everyone has them. Some are kept in shame, others out of obligation, or fear, or necessity.

But secrets are seldom kept forever.

The first thing I noticed back at HQ was that everyone was staring at us. And seemed to be talking about us as well. At first, I assumed it was because we had Quatre with us, but when people started avoiding us in the hallways I figured that wasn’t the reason. People don’t avoid Quatre unless he’s under ZERO influence; he’s not the most intimidating guy in normal settings, at least when he’s not trying to be.

Heero disappeared when Quatre and I stopped off at the clinic. Dr. Hilbert didn’t say as much as "I told you so" about my ankle; just treated me and sent me on my way with as few words as possible. About then I got to the point where the next person I passed was going to be put in a chokehold until I got some answers.

"Are you normally this popular?" Quatre asked on the elevator. "Are people afraid of braids around here, or something?"

"Swear to god, I don’t know what’s going on." I said honestly. "But this place is the friggin’ Napa Valley when it comes to grapevines. Who knows what’s been going around."

We got off the elevator and I started to take him to the break room when Wufei rounded the corner.

"Duo!" He said, startled, looking like he was trying to figure out whether the south or east exit would take him furthest away and which would be quicker.

I shot Quatre a weirded out glance. "Glad to see you, too."

"Hello, Wufei." Quatre greeted pleasantly. "It’s been a long time."

"Oh. Yes." He said, barely sparing him a glance. "Duo, come with me."

He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into his office. Quatre followed along, his expression both amused and confused.

"Ow, Wufei, what the hell is going on around here?" I grumbled, stealing my arm back while he closed the door behind us.

"This." He sighed heavily and shoved a flyer in my face.

I snatched it from him and held it back at a distance that I could actually see it from… then took a sharp breath when I realized what it was.

A wanted poster. Of me from the first war. It was the best shot anyone had gotten of my face, and there weren’t many of them around still.

"Where did it come from?" I asked quietly, not taking my eyes from the picture.

Wufei sighed again and folded his arms over his chest. "They were all over yesterday. Sally and I took them all down."

"All… over?" I said slowly, staring down at the picture in sickened shock. "Where exactly were they? And who did it?"

He shrugged. "I don’t know who did it, but they were everywhere. They were littered all over the floor, and posted in the halls, the break room, the conference rooms, the elevators… it took us hours to get them all down, not to mention the ones we confiscated from people who’d picked them up to look at or pass around. Une was exceedingly displeased."

That was probably an understatement. This, in the face of everything else… "So… everyone knows."

Christ… everyone knew. I couldn’t guess who could have done it… Carly Hatcher? Luke Miller? They just didn’t strike me as the vindictive types. I mean, Miller was an ass on occasion, but just because he had that jealousy thing. He really wasn’t a bad guy, and I couldn’t see him doing something so childish, especially after-

"Yes. Everyone knows." He repeated softly.

"They didn’t know you were a Gundam Pilot?" Quatre asked, hesitantly.

I shook my head. "I prefer anonymity."

"Oh." He looked down.

Whichever jackass decided pissing me off wasn’t a bad idea… I was gonna… I couldn't even form a coherent thought, I was so angry. Whoever they were sure had some balls, trying this with someone they obviously knew to not have had any problems killing people in the past.

Wufei’s eyebrows drew together in irritation. "Whatever distinctly unintelligent creature decided to pull a prank so infantile and irresponsible doesn’t deserve to be working for a credible and distinguished organization such as this one."

"No kidding." I muttered. "I mean, we have people pull practical jokes all the time, but no one’s ever done something this… spiteful."

It didn’t make me angry just that someone had exposed my secret. It was more how it was done. They didn’t just start a rumor or find some other kind of proof of my status during the wars; they had used a wanted poster. A picture of me beaten, battered, and in captivity. It was cheap and it was humiliating, and someone was going to be very damaged as soon as I found out who they were. Because I was fucking *livid,* and you don’t just pull something like this and not expect retaliation. Especially not with me.



The next few hours were spent with Quatre going over all the data Heero and I had commandeered from the satellite. By the time we got to the lists of weaponry stockpiled for supposed "reconfiguration," I finally knew how everything fit together.

"I’ve got a theory." I said, still scanning the records.

Quatre looked up. "And?"

I grinned. "And it’s lunch time, so I’ll run it by you after we eat, ok? It might take a lot of explaining."

"That’s fine with me." He laughed, getting up out of Heero’s chair. "Say, where has Heero been? I haven’t seen him since we got here."

I frowned and stood as well, holding the door open for him. "Hell if I know. Maybe he was more upset about what happened on the satellite than I thought."

That made Quatre frown, and when he spoke again, it was in an entirely different tone. "I really don’t understand you, Duo. I recognize that you were trying to protect him on that satellite, but he was also trying to protect you. And when we were preparing for the Masque… you almost seemed to know what was going to happen. It was uncanny. But it was almost as if you knew Sandman would go to the balcony and…" He shook his head sadly. "Why are you so eager to throw your life away? It’s a gift to live, Duo. You only do it once."

I shoved my hands in my pockets and brushed past him. "Yeah, well, you only die once, too. So I might as well do it in the way I want to."

His frown deepened, and I sighed. "Let’s not fight about this, Quatre. Let’s just go get some damn food already."

That just upset him more, but he let me take him the rest of the way to the cafeteria without another word about it. The environment was more than a little awkward, but not because of him. People were talking about me, and they were not being very subtle about it. I kinda wanted to get up on a table and tell them to just shut the fuck up, but somehow, I doubted it would have done me any good.

There was something about me being a Gundam Pilot that made them uncomfortable. They had no qualms with Wufei or Heero, I guess because the two of them looked and acted professional, experienced, and dangerous.

I didn’t. I broke into people’s lockers and joked about tampons and caffeine. It disturbed them that someone who acted so normal, so relaxed, could actually be deadly. A killer that seemed so normal… that truly frightened them.

We caught Collette on her way out, but she didn’t say anything, just gave me a hurt look and brushed past us. Daiyu didn’t seem to have the avoidance issues everyone else did though, because she waved us over to come sit with her after we’d collected our food.

"Quatre Winner, I presume?" She greeted, putting out an elegant hand for him to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Ren Daiyu- I believe you know my cousin, Sally."

He took her hand and beamed at her. "Very nice to meet you. And yes, I’m well-acquainted with Sally, she was a great help to all of us during the wars."

I smiled devilishly. "Daiyu forgot to mention-"

"Duo, you don’t get to tease me about that anymore." She cut me off and promptly went back to eating her salad.

"No shit?" I laughed with delight.

She smiled a little archly. "No shit." She replied, somehow managing to take the vulgarity out of the words.

Quatre looked back and forth between us. "I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt… but *what*?"

"Wufei was too fucking stupid to ask her out, that’s what." I stabbed an unsuspecting chicken nugget. "Apparently, he smartened up while we were away."

To be honest, I think she confused him. She was the veritable paradox of all the things he respected and disdained. She was just so blatantly unorthodox and wayward and *feminine;* but somehow also professional, polite and wonderfully strong. He just didn't know what to do with her.

"Oh, then you’re the girl he keeps talking about." Quatre said knowingly before taking a bite of pasta.

We stared at him.

"Wufei talks about me?!"

"Wufei knows how to use a vid-phone too?!"

He looked back up at us in bewilderment. "Yes. He sometimes talks about Duo and Heero, and I always have to ask about Sally. But he always mentions you."

"Oh." She said faintly. "It seems we've wasted a great deal of time, then."

"That's an understatement." I laughed.

She raised an eyebrow at me eloquently with an obvious "you should talk" behind the expression.

I glared at her and stabbed another chicken nugget. "So, you gonna ream me out for not telling you?"

"Telling me what?" She said, looking honestly puzzled.

I looked at her sideways, skeptically. "There is no possible way you didn't hear."

"What, that you’re a Gundam Pilot? Oh, I already knew that."

I blinked. "You did?"

She rolled her eyes. "Please. It isn't quantum physics. You ‘worked’ with Heero and Wufei when you were fifteen, you obviously know Quatre Winner, you have a braid like all those wanted posters, and you have an accent from L2, even if you try to hide it. One plus one."

"Well, when you put it that way-" Quatre started in a tone that spoke of amusement.

"-it makes me wonder about the standards they have for job applicants here." I finished sullenly.

She laughed delicately. "So are you infuriated or what?"

"Yeah, of course. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I find the bastard that did it, though. Probably nothing too illegal."

"Well, I’m sure you’ll think of an appropriate response when the time comes."

"Sure. Whatever. Life goes on." I paused, and then added, "In circles. Faster and faster until you get dizzy and pass out."

Daiyu set down her tea and studied me. Then Quatre. Then looked back at me, tilting her head to the side. Quatre and I looked at each other, than back at her expectantly.

She looked exasperated. "What’s with all of you being so unbelievably good-looking? I mean, was it part of the requirement for being a Gundam Pilot or something?"

"Uh…" I said dumbly, matching Quatre’s equally stupid "Er…"

Daiyu giggled almost girlishly. "I can just see the poster: WANTED: extremely capable pilots whose skills include stealth, explosives, infiltration and god-like physical appearance."

Quatre and I were busy staring at her with what I was sure were very interesting facial expressions when I keenly discerned someone entering the cafeteria, my highly perceptive senses barely detecting the faint sounds of someone stalking in with a resonance that might have rivaled a small herd of elephants and banging the doors open with such force that said elephants might have been knocked over. Heero burst through, looking angry- visibly angry- and he was striding directly to our table.

Quatre evaded the obvious fury running current throughout Heero’s entire being with a soothing smile that I was sure was meant to mollify. "Oh, hey Heero. We were wondering wh-"

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Heero cut him off in a dangerous voice, hard and cold, planting his hands on the table before me.

I looked up at him, baffled. "What?"

"Why didn’t you tell me you knew?" He spat viciously. "Why didn’t you tell me you knew why Rostislav wanted to kill you?"

There was a quiet so sudden I thought no one could have possibly been breathing. "What makes you think-"

"You *knew*!" He accused, his voice getting stronger with every word. "You *knew* it was Trowa! You knew he was in with the syndicates and you didn’t do anything, you just *let* him try to kill you!"

My jaw dropped ever so slightly and Quatre’s fell a good inch lower.

How the hell had he found out about Trowa and the Syndicates? "Heero… you don't-"

"Why didn’t you do anything?" His voice broke off into pieces, shattering into sounds both wounded and bitter.

I looked up at him guiltily, not saying anything and then looking down. A wounded expression flashed over Quatre’s face with the insinuation of my silence.

Heero read the hurt look and stood back. His voice that had been skinned raw was now coated in ice. "Fine. But even if you have so little regard for your own life, I would have thought you at least had some for Quatre’s."

My self-reproach vanished in an instant and I shot up out of my chair and exceeded his volume, the words crackling with fury. "That doesn’t have *anything* to do with-"

"Yes, it does!" He interrupted just as sharply, leaning in even further to snarl in my face. "Because we wouldn’t have gone anywhere near that satellite if you didn’t already know what Bosch was doing before we even went to L4-"

"I had an idea," I cut him off. "But I really didn’t know for sure about Bosch until today!"

Our positions were mirrored across the table, eyes sizzling with equal fever, faces so close together that had the air between us been but a little thinner our noses might have been touching. My eyes flickered down to his lips and my breath caught.

"Gentlemen," Quatre interjected quietly. "Why don’t we take this somewhere else?"

Only then did I remember where we were. I drew back to look around the crowded cafeteria. The silence was severe. There wasn’t a fork drop, a shoe squeak, a cleared throat. Everyone was staring openly at us, frozen in place to watch the drama.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes to collect myself. "Let's go back to the office. We need to talk about this. Without an audience."

"Right… I’m going to go…somewhere else." Daiyu mumbled, and disappeared discreetly.

We left the cafeteria and shut ourselves away in the privacy of our office. I had a strong need to open a window or something, the tension was so stifling. So much that it was becoming difficult to breathe.

Ever the tactician, Quatre was the first to speak. "I think you both need to do some explaining. Where were you Heero? Where did you come up with… all of this?"

"I didn’t come up with anything. I just put together the pieces Duo kept hinting at. I needed to…" His eyes were angry and anguished, and he couldn't seem to stand in place as he burst out, "I just had to try and figure out everything you’ve been hiding without you there *distracting* me!"

I took an involuntary step back.

"I see." Quatre said neutrally. "Duo? I think you need to come clean and tell us everything."

I heaved a sigh and sat down in my office chair, rubbing my hand over my eyes. "I can tell you… Une was next after Sandman killed you, Quatre. Bosch was killing people who were in his way."

"I don’t understand." He tilted his head, slowly. "Politically, we weren’t at all at odds with each other."

"I don’t mean politically, at least not in that sense." I said, shaking my head. "You must have gotten from the inventory that Bosch was collecting more than weapons to be converted into maintenance equipment. He was stockpiling arms."

"I could see that, but why would he want to start a war? His ideals weren’t that extreme."

"His political ideals have nothing to do with it. He wasn’t planning on using the weapons to start a war; he was going to sell them."

"Sell them?" Quatre repeated sharply.

"One of the byproducts of a war ending is a huge surplus of weaponry, which of course gives rise to those eager to take advantage of the leftovers… to those who would sell the leftovers on the black market. Gun runners, gangs, organized crime… all those kinds of people. But the Preventers are the first group to have ever had real success in putting a stop to that kind of activity, which is especially unfortunate for the gun runners and the rest in this case, because after all weapons were disbanded, the illegal market became a goldmine. Weapons were made harder to come by, and therefore became more expensive. The Preventers are at the root to a huge loss of money for a lot of dangerous people."

"You mean to tell me that Bosch was trying to take down the Preventers? The entire organization? So that he could sell arms?" His voice was filled to the brim with something, but it was hard to tell if it was incredulity or fury.

"Basically, yeah. The colonial syndicates were wiped out during the Alliance’s control, so there wasn’t much competition for him in space. He started his project to salt away any weapons he could under a legal, government sponsored guise. Then he began to take care of anyone standing in his way. Aquino became a problem when he started to figure out what Cunningham was up to with the campaigning funds that were used to fund the illegal half of Bosch's program, and then later to pay Sandman. Knox, Rice, and Ferdinand were all the Preventer’s top supporters, politically, publicly, and financially. And so were you.

"I figured out when Bosch was questioning me that the crime syndicates on Earth were all setting traps for Preventer operations, hoping that they would begin to loose funding or be discredited, and thereby become less of a threat." I added.

"So that first mission, in France?" Heero asked warily.

"A set-up. And the mission right before we left for L4. And that intruder at the ball with the power outage and all that? I'm guessing he was there to kill Dorothy."

"What about the one in Guatemala?"

"There was no set up there. That was just where the Latino cartels were stashing weapons to hide from the Preventers."

"And this is why Rostislav sent his brother to kill you? Because you were getting too close to finding all this out?"

"Could be." I said and sat back. The next question from Heero would be about Trowa, so I looked at Quatre when I said, "There's something else you should know. The syndicates aren't working alone to take down the Preventers. The Russians, the Italians, the Yakuza, and the Triads are working together. They have a truce until the organization is destroyed, or at least weakened enough for them to operate without interference."

"Jesus." Quatre sank down into the other chair.

"How do you know this?" Heero asked darkly.

"The mission that was about a year ago… it really starts there." I sighed. This part was going to be rough. "Rostislav's original plan, before he and the other gangs came to an understanding, was to operate through Relena, and use her to convince the world that the Preventers were not needed anymore."

Heero looked at me sharply, and I took a deep breath. "The ZEROLX Une told you about was in its developmental stages, and Rostislav was hoping that he could use the program to control her mind, which turned out to be an ability the LX was unable to perform. So, he decided to use its targeting capabilities to pretty much torture her into complying with his plans. It worked that time, but only to a certain degree. Relena refused to yield to his demands, and LX slowly drove her crazy."

"And that's why she retired from politics?" Quatre asked, horrified.

"Yeah." I said carefully. "You see, the constant re-play of her memories destroyed her sense of time. The effect is almost like Alzheimer's Disease in the way it makes her re-live certain parts of her life."

"How did Rostislav get close enough to do this to her?" Heero asked angrily.

I looked at him. The anger was directed inward, and I could see him blaming himself for leaving her service.

"Don't, Heero. I didn't catch it, either." I said softly. "Anyways, after Relena was rescued, there was an opportunity."

"Opportunity?" Quatre repeated apprehensively.

"An opportunity that Trowa took. He… before he was a Gundam Pilot, he was a mercenary. He knew… a lot. About buying and selling weapons. About under-the-table deals and the black market. About the surplus. And there was an opportunity, and he left to take it."

"So what I suspected is correct." Heero said roughly. "Trowa did become a gunrunner."

"Yes."

"And he makes deals with Rostislav."

"Yes."

Quatre looked sick. Heero just looked angry. "What about the girl?" He asked abruptly. "I heard a girl died."

"The girl… was Hilde." I hesitated. "I didn't know it was Bosch until we figured out what he was up to with the Satellite Project. We knew someone was operating in space, but we didn't know it was him. He thought I was working with Trowa, and had Hilde killed as an example, so that Trowa would stay out of his territory."

"Oh, Duo…" Quatre looked shell-shocked.

"How have they been communicating?" Heero asked brusquely. "The organizations, without the Preventers knowing?"

"The LX has the capability to work as a communication device. The leaders of the organizations inject themselves with ZSOLES, and are able to directly link themselves to each other's programs." I replied. "We did know. We just haven't been in a good position to do something about it… until now."

"So how… how do we deal with this?" Quatre asked, still looking a bit pale.

"We have enough from Bosch's satellite, the Three Blind, and-"

"Three Blind?" Quatre asked with confusion.

"Mice." Heero and I said at the same time.

"Mice?" He repeated blankly.

"Yes. I’m not getting into it." I said hurriedly. "Point is, we have enough incriminating evidence now to take their entire operations down."

"So… what?" Quatre looked like he was already planning. "You want separate teams to arrest the leaders, and who knows how many others to secure the arms?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Look, if we don’t go on the offensive now, then these guys are going to put us out like a cigarette. And I don’t mean just us three. I mean this whole fucking organization and then some. Can you even imagine the fallout if the Preventers went down?"

"But-"

"Think about it. Corruption, assassination, the black market- everything Preventers has a handle on now would explode with no one there to stop it. Political factions would seize their opportunities and strike out, on the colonies, on earth. There would be riots that turned into massacres that turned into civil wars, wars that would turn global, turn universal. And nobody would have weapons but the bad guys. The bad guys, who, without the common goal of destroying the Preventers left to unify them, would turn against each other."

Quatre looked startled at the implication. "So, we're not just trying to stop political, religious and territorial warfare in the more traditional sense, but also a universal mob war?"

I paused. "Pretty much, yeah."

"All right." Quatre stood up decisively. "I’m in. You’re going to need all the help you can get."

"Good." I nodded sharply, getting to my feet. "Let’s meet with Une, and we should go ahead and bring in Wufei, Sally and Daiyu. Those three we definitely want in on this."

"Agreed." Heero said, almost too lowly to be heard. It relieved me immeasurably that he was going to go through this with me, albeit unenthusiastically.

Quatre scheduled a meeting with Une while Heero and I split up to find the others. We were locked in her office within fifteen minutes, and I spent the better part of the next hour explaining everything that was going on for those who hadn’t been there since the beginning. After that, we spent the remainder of the day solidifying plans, which is when I got really grateful Quatre had stayed to help. That kind of thing is just easy for him.

Somehow, thanks in no small part to the extra help from Quatre and the Maguanacs, everything pulled together. In the end, we decided that Wufei and Sally, whose clavicle had healed well enough to come back in time for this, would lead in on the Triads, Daiyu and her partner would cover the Yakuza, Miller and Hamm Finn the Italians, and Heero and I the Russians with Quatre. Rashid and the other Maguanacs were put in charge of confiscating the arms; not an easy task, but one I was confident they could conduct capably.

The next day was spent with preparations. Usually weeks, even months, went into planning something like this, but that was time we just didn’t have.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, as I stood alone in our office going over blueprints, Hamm approached me.

"Agent Maxwell, could I have a word with you?" He asked, in a tone he had never used when he had still outranked me.

I nodded distractedly, and he closed the door behind himself. The gesture startled me, and I looked up at him abruptly.

He came closer, rubbing his hand over his face wearily. "Agent Maxwell, I want to apologize. For the posters."

I stared at him. "You…?" I asked uncertainly.

"No, not me." He actually smiled a little, even if it was pained and seemed to take him a great deal of effort. "But I do know who did it, and I want to apologize in their stead, because I know they won’t ever do so themselves."

"They?" I repeated blankly.

"My brothers."

"Brothers?" I repeated again, feeling a little redundant.

"Yes, my brothers. Clov and Nag."

Nag? "Oh… the guy in the bar."

He was related to Hamm and Clov? Talk about unlucky coincidence. I had used my Preventer I.D., so Nag must have gone to his Agent brother…

"Yes. Nag…" He shook his head in long-standing disappointment. "Nag is very bitter, and has a very strong influence on Clov. He made a stupid call in the first war that lead to the deaths of the men under his command. Both he and Clov have a problem with misplaced anger, and I’m afraid they both took out their personal troubles on you in a way that I don’t think they even realize the significance of. I’m not going to ask for your forgiveness in this affair, and I will not interfere if you decide to report Clov, or take any other action. I cannot respect their choices in the matter, but I do respect your contribution during the wars, which is my reason for bringing this to your attention."

"Oh, I, uh… I appreciate it."

With that, he left, and I suddenly felt drained, the fatigue of the last weeks kicking in. My knees weakened and I sank down into my chair, slumping down over the desk with my head in my hands.

My emotions were conflicting, muddled, extreme. They exhausted me. I wanted to kick Clov's ass at the same time I wanted to forget about him. I wanted to find Heero and just kiss the hell out of him, but I couldn't. I wanted to cry, but I was incapable of it.

Damn Heero for making me want to live, anyways.

"Duo?" Quatre asked faintly from where he stood in the doorway. "Are you all right?"

I shoved ferociously away from the desk, the chair spinning back wildly, and stood, my hands clenched into fists.

"No." I growled. Everything was not all right.

I stalked past him into the hallway. It was time to find Clov Finn.



It didn’t take me very long. He was by himself on the roof, taking a break to smoke.

The air was cold, and up here, the wind was strong enough that it whipped my hair violently around me. Clov was standing just to the side of the door that led up to the roof, facing away.

He didn't even know I was there until he was slammed back up against the wall, my hands pinning his shoulders down.

"What the fuck, man?!" He pushed at me to shove me off of him, but I didn't give. "You made me drop my cigarette, jackass!"

“I killed a guy about your size with a cigarette once.” I said darkly. I leaned in and whispered brutally, “Would you like me to show you how?”

"Listen, man. If you value your career and your life," He said harshly. "You’ll walk away." He knew what I was pissed about, but he also knew there was a security camera above him.

"And if I don’t?" I asked coldly. "What will you do then?"

"It was a joke! Christ, you don’t have to get all bent out of shape about it."

I pulled back and slammed him into the wall again. "You think this is about me? Huh? You think this is about getting my feelings hurt?"

"You think an asinine hoax is going to make people think it was supposed to be funny, that everything we suffered, that a bloody *war*, was *funny?*" I was wild and crazed and almost out of control, and I knew exactly what I was doing. "Well, it's going to take more than a sloppy cop-out to make you a hero. Just because your brother missed the boat doesn't give you an excuse to cheapen what we fought and killed for."

With that, I let him go abruptly, but I might as well have slapped him for the staggered expression on his face.

He pulled my shoulder around and shoved me back with anger. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about. My brother-"

"Shut your fucking mouth and think for yourself for once." I spat out. "And that is all I'm going to say to you, because you don't deserve another minute of my time."

He clenched his jaw, taking a step back, and I left him and his issues behind me.



"How late is your contact going to be?" Heero growled, pacing on the wharf. The sun was just beginning to rise over the glossy water. The air was crisp and cold and smelled of the sea, and the morning had a surreal visual quality to it that painted everything in a pale and watery palette.

I rolled my eyes, re-checking my clips again where I stood. "He still has a good five minutes before we can consider him late, Heero."

"You’re sure he’s trustworthy?" He asked impatiently. Stress and lack of sleep had us all a little short-tempered in the face of this operation and its importance.

"Yes, for the thirtieth time." I snapped. "Stop pacing. We’re not even on the boat yet and you’re making me seasick."

"Children…" Quatre said in a warning tone from his seat, propped up against our gear where he was fiddling with a set of binoculars, the cold wind adding a hint of red to his nose and cheeks.

It was just the three of us, and we were the only group going in by ourselves, without any men under our lead or backup of any kind, not including my contact. The boat situation pretty much dictated our options. My guy would be here within the next five minutes to take us out to sea on a boat ride to a yacht belonging to Rostislav. We were lucky he was in the position to help us, as he was the only way we would be able to sneak onboard without alerting anyone to our presence.

It wasn’t too much longer before a small carrier ship came close enough for me to read her markings. "Hey, Quatre. Check and make sure that’s the Nimue, will ya’?"

He lifted the binoculars and scanned the distance. "It appears to be."

"Great. Shouldn’t be too much longer then, since they have everything else we’ll need with them. Not too much to bring aboard."

When the boat docked, it took us a remarkably short amount of time to get loaded and ready to ship back out again. Most of the crew members had been Sweepers, and they greeted me warmly, a couple even remembering Heero from his brief stay during the war. The crew wasn’t very large, just the minimal requirement to handle the ship and its cargo. The Nimue was an outdated, rusty model, but she served her purpose well.

"So where’s this contact of yours, Duo?" Quatre asked as we started to pull away from the dock.

"Right here." A low, even voice spoke from the darkness behind one of the cargo crates, and the figure stepped out from the shadows.

He was tall with a trim and muscular build that was only enhanced by the ratty grey wife-beater he wore, smudges of grease and sweat accenting his muscles. His hairstyle hadn’t changed, still sweeping enigmatically over a beautiful, jaded eye.

"Hello, Quatre." Trowa said.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“The Start of Something Beautiful” by Voxtrot

~ This time of night I could call you up
I'd get angry with athletic ease, break common laws in twos and threes
If I die clutching your photograph
Don't call me boring, It's just 'cause I like you
Take me on back... take me back
To the place where I could feel your heart
Is this the end or just the start of
Something really, really beautiful
Wrapped up and disguised as something really, really ugly,
Won't you…
Come by and see me, I'm a love letter away
I'd break your name before I'd say, "I really love you, love you, "
And I loved it, loved it; I don't care if
You think I'm eager to shut your eyes, well
I'm sorry- everybody knows you can't break me with your gutter prose
I heard you…
Inside your room, you said, "You never really live
Until your back's against the wall," oh did you really mean it?
I never break my gaze, if just to see this scar remain reflected in your eyes
I think it's time to go home
Oh, tell me your thoughts, tell me your thoughts on liberty,
See there's a place where I sink to sleeping
Oh, my vote is as red as my blood
Will you join me for another round? I haven't had the chance to speak yet
God speed…
I break the law once every week to feel your touch,
This just makes me ill, your name is dripping from my pen
Still you're not around to curse,
I'll drop the gun now, I'm still under you…~

Just a literary note in case anyone's interested- Hamm, Clov, and Nag (the Finn brothers) are named after characters in Samuel Beckett's "Endgame."

~ * ~

Chapter 15

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