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"Defying Gravity"A Romance in Three PartsWritten By: Kaeru Shisho Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing
or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, yaoi, some language Summary: A multi part story of romance starting
with a turning point vacation, developing throughout a dangerous UC
mission, and moving ahead through the unexpected challenges of a summer
vacation. "Part Two: It's Back to Work"
Chapter 18
Duo's charming POV "There they are," Quatre said in a low voice, "looking all the world like a pair of very successful drug runners." "No shit. See any muscle around to schlep this baby for us?" I asked. I wasn't looking forward to mashing a finger or foot hauling Hermes. Wufei and Heero smuggled the drugs from the pharmaceutical loading area to an off site warehouse. I assumed their part of the job had gone off without a hitch, because when Quatre and I landed at the shuttle shipyard with our crated Hermes sculpture the coast was clear, and our two friends were waiting, weapons drawn. Damned if they didn't both look sexy that way, all dangerous and grim. All we had to do was un-crate Hermes and observe the loading of the packaged booty up Hermes hollow foot. And, yeah, I made the "talk about having a hollow leg" joke, which fell flatter than my first soufflé. Unfortunately, there were no lackeys to do the work, just Catter, me, 'Ro, and 'Fei. "No goons, hoodlums, or other denizens of the underworld in sight," Quatre said. "I had expected Gunter to at least send watchmen to lurk in the background." "He either trusts us or this is a setup," I said, voicing my opinion to anyone listening and hoping Heero was one of them. "How many were at your drug bust?" "Nine," Wufei said. His smile was wistful. "Lucky nine." His eyes traced the horizon. "Trowa had better show soon." "Nine! There's just four of us to do the work of nine?" "Your Hermes holds half the volume of my David," Wufei said. "Less by the bag count." "It was the largest piece of art available," I said, feeling a little defensive. "I half expect to have Raul show up again," Quatre said, changing the subject. "He made me very nervous in Italy." He blushed and met my eyes for a heartbeat before he looked away into the distance. "He never would tell us what his business was. I kept thinking he was spying on us for Gunter, but he didn't acknowledge us. The people at Royal knew him well enough, which makes me think he might have been spying on Gunter that day when Duo caught him copying that disc." I looked at Heero, hoping to catch his attention, but with those damned reflective glasses on I couldn't tell if he was concentrating on me or not. His face was immobile. His expression replaced with a stone replica, too. "You hear back on any of that data or get it decoded?" Wufei answered, "Enough to confirm that the location where we load the drug-filled sculpture and Gunter's boys for the shuttle was among the data points." "We are expecting a report on the decoded data and data collected from Royal art files," Heero added. "I haven't have time to do the work myself." "Didn't think you did." Man, was he ever tight—like I expected him to do all the work around alone. "You can only be in one place at a time." Without a nod or word, he left to complete another perimeter search. Maybe he was unable to believe this wasn't a setup, maybe he wanted to avoid hard labor, or maybe he was mad at me for something. There was a little indiscretion, but he couldn't have known about that, so it had to be something else. "Well, get over it, 'Ro," I muttered beneath my breath to his receding back. (o) That Raul dude had given both Quatre and me the creeps—a real slimeball. The head honchos at Royal were all slick, stab-you-in-the-back bastards that made us feel dirty to deal with. For instance, Count Giopinno was said to be- now think about it—prominent in New Italy's politics. I mean, as my world-government-savvy bud tells me, that's just a contradiction in terms. There are no politics here in New Italy. It's all mafia and underworld machinations. We busted the count for trading as yet undetermined favors for little Jimmy Tulver at Gunter's estate. Undetermined, because the count's lips were sealed and still are. Now, this dude, Raul Frolich, shows up here as Quat and I picked out hollowed out a replica of a really well-hung male nude sculpture for transferring illicit drugs. Raul just appears out of the blue, but is it really the blue? His father's really the younger brother of this jailed art huckster, Giacomo Medici, who is himself an old buddy of the count. But Raul works for Gunter, right? He also steals info off his hidden discs. So, we got us a count awaiting trial for trafficking in the boy trade, who won't tell on Gunter, and we got us a questionable individual, Raul, who has links to both the count and to Gunter. Could it be that Raul wants more of the action? That he might be waiting his chance to cripple Gunter and be the new go-to bastard of New Germany? Shit, that dude's so slimy he can ooze through keyholes. Which gets me back to Quatre and me hanging out after the deal was done. Raul had been unexpected-- by us. After watching him at Gunter's house over the feeds for weeks, I half thought we were old familiar combatants, but remembered that we'd never really met, unless it had been in some club and I forgot. I guess I looked at him strangely and he mirrored that; I don't know, but he made my skin crawl. That night in our hotel room, Quatre cuddled with me on my bed for a long time. We both needed the contact and reassurance, something rarely received by undercover operatives. We talked about everything but the mission and day and the next day's prospects, trying to kick the stressful world aside for awhile. We also discovered the hotel's five-star liquor assemblage, all for our enjoyment and chilling in a mini fridge. I remember a bitter, herby-tasting Centerba with an amazingly high alcohol content, followed by a dizzying succession of super sweet stuff. Lemons, cherries, almonds, licorice—gah! Quatre could read the labels and selected the "best" ones, although he vowed over and over never to have actually consumed anything but the occasional beer in the past. Well, damn. I'm a bad influence. Add a little tonic water, mix with a Red Bull, and in no time we knocked back more than we should have. That was my excuse, not that I needed one. "I will feel so much better when all those guys are behind bars doing time," Quatre said with a shiver. "At least during the war I didn't always have to face them. I could blow up their base of operations from afar." "Yeah." I couldn't agree more—without saying more and giving away that I should have drunk a hell of a lot less. "Even as a Preventer agent, I get the satisfaction of cuffing the criminals." "Yep." Cuff'em to the bed posts... "Point a gun at their head and imagine firing—Ah, Duo?" "Yeah, Quat?" "Why is it we never fell in love?" Quatre asked. "Ah...talk about switching gears there...um..." I said, head swirling with possible answers. I chose one. "Okay. We're both tooooo nice. What turns us on are the tough-to-read assholes, the guys that challenge us so we have to apply our outgoing personalities to open them up." Man, was that ever deep. "Why, Duo, you have given this a lot of thought!" Not a fleeting one! "I guess. I mean, you said you once had a crush on me, and that got me to thinking, ya know? I mean, you are damned attractive, sexy, the best friend a guy could ask for, intuitive out the yin yang—" "Not to mention rich and well-grounded," he added with a wry smile. "Right! You are unique among us!" I agreed. "So, like you were saying, why wasn't I infatuated with you, I mean, enough to break through all my inhibitions and mental road blocks and just catapult me out of the closet?" "Maybe I should have made a move?" he asked, but not in any deep-meaning sort of way like he really meant he should have. "Yeah, why didn't you ever jump me or make some move?" I grinned. "I'll tell you--" "Because we're masochists that need emotion-damaged guys to jumpstart our libidos?" he asked. "Gods, that makes us sound like idiots. How depressing!" I punched his arm in a friendly manner, and Quatre fell over me and kissed me. Yeah. When I got over that shock, he kissed me again. I returned it and one thing led to another. We lost our clothes and gave one another blow jobs. It was as if we had to give it a try then come to an understanding. the pressure release was amazing and my best bud was an artist. "That was really special," he said. "You are very sweet, Duo Maxwell. Just as vocal as I expected, but not what I'm used to, at all." "Hey, I can't help myself! You're a terrific lover, Quat. Blond, too, which is really a change for me." I ran my hand over his abdomen, brushing the pale, pink-toned skin and fair hair. I was used to golden skin and an insistent, dark red cock growing from a nest of black hair. He giggled, winced and rubbed his jaw. "It was kinda fun that we're so similar in height and weight, but different, too. You're really large." Stroke my ego more, will ya! "You gotta light touch." "Not so much, but he's very strong, I bet," Quatre said softly, avoiding names. "Yeah, he tries to be gentle, but the man doesn't always know his own strength." I lay back and sighed, letting my mind drift for a minute, before saying, "You know, I really liked what we did, but..." "But... I know, Duo. I can detect your stronger feelings, at times." "Yeah. You feel the problem, too, don't cha?" "Um, huh. I do. I love you and sex with you is really nice, but something's missing." "Which in your case is Trowa. The man needs you bad." "Yes," he said, his voice taking on a dreamy quality. "It seems strange thinking and talking about him like this now, when I'm in bed with you, but I'm really in love with him." "Yeah, you guys just radiate good vibes when you're together." "And so do you and Heero. He's crazy about you, Duo. You know that, right?" "He'd have to be." "And you know, each time you toy with Milliardo you are hurting Heero." "I don't mean to. I just... I just... I don't know what happens except that to do what I do, stay deep undercover; I have to stay in my role. It's not always possible for me to switch out into reality and back." "I feel that, too, and it hasn't been so long for me. I couldn't do this for a living, Duo. I need my reality so much it breaks through, where and when I want it to or not. This...this was good, though." He touched my hand to get me to look into his eyes. "You do this often, I guess?" "Sex with my best friend?" I chuckled. "No, not with anyone. I'm not loose like you, heh, heh." He punched me hard for that stupid joke, which was kinda true but not funny, and I apologized then went on, "Never, in fact, Heero was my first, Quat." "But not your only." "No." I smiled and caressed my friend's hip bone. "There's been you, but the one's on the job I don't count. They don't count. My mind wipes them out or I'd go crazy thinking about that. You, though, I'll remember you." "I think he'd understand if you told him you wanted to wait a little longer before making a permanent commitment. We are all so young." "'Ro? No, he wouldn't. He's very possessive. He wouldn't understand even us doing this." I patted his thigh and turned away, pulling the covers over our shoulders. "You'll tell him, of course." "No." I thought about my answer, or was going to, but I passed out about that time; at least, I don't remember any further intelligent conversation. I do remember being rudely awakened as the blankets were ripped off the bed. Quatre was showered, dressed and packed way too early in the morning. He snapped shut his cell phone. "We have our marching orders, Duo." "Fuck." My mind remained in a fog as I staggered to the shower. Why did I drink so much while on a mission, I alternatively wondered and chastised myself? Oh, release. Relief. Well, that was short-lived and now it was payback time. With all the anti-drug serums coursing my system, why wasn't there an anti-alcohol one in there as well? Quatre helped me with my hair, later, after I was dressed. He was anxious to leave, said the minimum, and wasn't as gentle with the comb out as I could have used. My head throbbed. It was almost like Heero was there. "We can grab a cappuccino and sweet pastry in the lobby," he said. He did not once meet my eyes. I knew something was wrong. Immediately I assumed he regretted the night before, either the drinking or the sex, or both. "Catter, don't let last night get to you, okay? We're still good, right?" He sighed and ran his fingers through his own long, artificially red hair. "Yes, Duo. No regrets, really. It's just—" "You didn't go call Trowa?!" "Yes." "Oh... That is bad in so many ways, Quat, and you know it! We are all pretty deep undercover. Personal calls aren't a good idea when one could endanger our lives." "I know that!" he snapped. "I used the code names; it was brief. I had to tell him what happened and that I loved him." "And?" "He wasn't free to talk, but I think he sounded okay." "And that was it? No other calls?" "No, well, he put Milliardo on and that's when I received our next orders. I didn't tell Heero, if that's what you are thinking!" he said, anger in his voice. I was, but hearing the hurt in his voice and the anger, I wouldn't admit it in a million years, but I couldn't deny it either. "Thanks, well. I hope Trowa doesn't find a way to take me out, as in permanently out of the picture." "He wouldn't hurt you!" Quatre said, shocked at the thought, until he looked me in the eye, finally, and saw that I was attempting to joke about it. "He thinks you're pretty sexy, anyway. He just might try and even the score." Okay, that surprised me. I ran into the door on the way out, swearing never, ever to overindulge again. It was worth it, though; I made Quatre crack up. I'd have broken my arm to hear Quatre's musical laughter again. I didn't want him mad at me, so I didn't tell him I thought he was taking Trowa's good nature for granted. He shouldn't have any distractions on the job and he shouldn't have to worry about his boyfriend having sex with his friends. I wanted to strangle Quatre, but a little voice in my head told me to play it cool and wait. (o) "It is quiet," Wufei said. I returned jarringly to the here and now, my internal alarms set off by the tension in Wufei's voice. He looked different. His hair was loose from its tight ponytail. Straight, shiny, and black as a raven's wing, it hung past his shoulders. It must have bothered him, because he brushed it over an ear irritably every few seconds. He wore reflective, dark glasses with night-vision capability, which matched Heero's. Combined with the grim expressions, the tense shoulders, and the outrageous number of arms the two men carried, they looked like dangerous hit men, which they were. Heero returned from his patrol with a terse report. "No activity. Get this crated and call for a loader. Shuttle launch is on schedule." I had it three-quarters of the way crated, asshole, I thought. "I could use a hand here." "But Tr- Tamer hasn't called!" Quatre said. He pushed and I pulled the crate toward the ramp leading to the shuttle storage bay. "Maybe they changed plans to move the boys with this shipment." "I wouldn't assume that. Damn!" I shouted, pulling a splinter out of my finger. "This would be so much easier wearing overalls and gloves. Ah, we're on a private chartered shuttle. I don't think Gunter has changed his plans; he hasn't got that much money to throw around. Hold it, Catter." I hopped over to the mechanical loader, triggered the engine to start, and rode it over to the crate. Quatre shouldered part of the crate and I shoved the rest onto the loader arms. With the skill of a union laborer, I jiggered the levers and hoisted the crate to the top of the ramp. All the was left to do was to jostle old Hermes into the shuttle payload bay and secure it with the lock down strapping to the inner walls. Quatre heaved and I ho-ed. "Chartered, you mean just for us?" Quatre asked, a trifle breathlessly. "Us, a small fortune in drugs, and enough guns and ammunition to start a small war." I sucked on my sore finger wondering if there was a first aid kit on board, but my eyes were on Quatre. He seemed lost in thought, drifting away to the wide open doors, watching for Trowa to appear. I doubt he even heard my answer. Heero and Wufei were listening, though. "What do you mean?" Heero and Wufei pressed in around me. "I recognize the shuttle name as one of the common charter companies, rather than one of the regularly scheduled—" "Not that," Heero snapped. "We didn't load guns and ammunition." "You didn't load a fucking thing," I snapped back like a territorial little bitch. I could do attitude, too, if that's what he wanted. 'Fei stood between us, keeping us an arm's length apart. "What about the guns, Scythe?" "Didn't you catch a look at the rest of the payload while conducting those exhausting perimeter checks? Look way in the back, closely, and tell me those aren't weapon boxes." Heero rocketed himself into the back to inspect the contents the boxes. With Wufei guarding 'Ro, I joined Quat' at the payload bay door. A limousine pulled into the restricted aircraft parking space, the same car that hauled us to Alric Gunter's Valentine's Day party. "Trowa," Quatre whispered, barely concealing his relief as our friend climbed out of the rear passenger compartment. Behind him followed three boys. One looked to be taller than Heero and Wufei. Must have been a tight fit in back. "Tamer," I said in a louder voice. "Yes, Tamer, sorry." Yeah, I was right not to worry about Trowa. He just showed up closer to shuttle launch than we'd hoped he would. From my angle I could see Trowa unload heavy-looking duffle bags from the trunk: one for each of the boys and two of his won. Milliardo's head with his silvery hair was just discernable from the front. He had driven, replacing Gunter's usual chauffeur. I assumed Gunter was in the front passenger seat, but that side of the car was away from us. I waved to Mill, who signaled in return. Everything was A-okay. Trowa slammed the truck closed. The car turned in a smooth arc then drove off, leaving us with the shuttle staff and three frightened boys. Seeing the forlorn looks on their faces reminded me that this mission was not over. We had more to do before we could start celebrating. Quatre was the last to board the shuttle, following Trowa and the boys as they headed toward the crew compartment. The thermal seals on the external payload bay doors suctioned shut, providing us an airtight environment within the bay. Heero 'Fei, and I were alone. Heero was breathing down my back. "I don't know how you knew about those boxes, but you were right." "I just keep my eyes open, Wing. I climbed in with the loader and lined up the crate with Hermes, remember? Oh, yeah, you missed the heavy work." Hey, I'm actually competent at my job, remember guys? "Anyway, while I was standing there, I took a look around. Got this, too." "What's that?" Fei asked as he tore the crisp paper out of my hand. "A packing list? What arms smuggler uses packing lists?" Okay, so I had to show off. "Me." That brought down the house, or would have had we been in theater. Heero's dark aura was oppressive; his words came out in snarls. Wufei barked at me. There was no shortage of voice in the restricted space. Both were having an awful row, each straining at his leash to see who could get the bigger bite out of my ankle. "Shut up and give me a chance to explain, goddamnit!" Silence labored against the rising whine and thrumming of the engines gearing up for takeoff. "Remember Wind's supposed to be in the illegal arms trade? While we weren't slumming it up, he had me rig a few deals to make him look like a legit black marketer. Looks like Gunter's one that took the bait. Save that paper and I can trace it back to the code name he used to place the order." "But how did you know...? What made you think a stunt like this would work?" Heero was either mad or impressed. "Just a hunch. No harm no foul if he didn't nab it." "So, this was just luck?" Heero asked, his tone inconclusive: Duo's brilliant or Duo's an idiot. "Well, it is order number 99898. What do you think, Shen?" Wufei's jaw dropped. It really did. Did he really think I didn't know about his Chinese lucky number idiosyncrasies? Guess so. Everybody underestimates me, like I've pointed out before. "Pilot wants us seated and belted in," Trowa told us, appearing out of no where. "Sand and I are in back with the kids." Heero acknowledged him with a customary "Hn" then pressed the airlock, closing off the crew compartment from the storage bay and sealing the hatches. My ears plugged up with the pressurization. Things were going great. We settled into seats in front of Trowa and the others. Heero sat on the outside, I picked the seat across from him, and Wufei chose one in front of Heero. Okay, things were bothering me. Several things. Like, my boyfriend was tense, angry, and taking it out on me. That I could almost deal with, but seeing those kids jarred my guts. I was delivering three boys into the hands of the enemy in every way as dangerous as any I'd been forced to face. I was bringing them along with the drugs and tools to mold them into killing machines to a place out of hell. That had been done to me, to Heero and to Trowa to make us into Gundam pilots so I knew what they were in for. They didn't. The kids sat there smiling and trusting Trowa to take care of them. I was sick, and I bet he was too. I twisted around in my seat and leaned over the back within inches of Trowa's face and waited until I could see his eyes meeting mine. "I can't do this." "Me neither." "New plan." "Count me in." "Me, too," whispered Quatre. "Back in a sec!" Outside the shuttle, a tug-ship nudged our ride into launch position, rocking us slightly. I worked with that, lurching to the side so that I nearly fell out of my seat and into Heero's lap. Sloppy, but it got me where I needed to be. "Wing, how many others on board?" "Scythe..." "Pilot, co-pilot, and a navigator 'slash' armed guard," Wufei answered. "Can you take them out while I take over the controls?" "At lift off? That's dangerous!" Heero growled, but in an ordinary way. "It's when they'll be most vulnerable and inattentive. Wing, I can't deliver those boys to their doom. We'll do the rest of the delivery, but hold them. Just like I thought Wind was going to do. We'll hold them until we get that invite and then draw it out as long as we can. Gunter's not going to endanger everything over that. We know too much to risk it all on a couple boys-- boys, which Mill will turn over sooner or later as far as Gunter's concerned. Come on..." I knew I had them. I'm irresistible when I'm right. 'Fei and 'Ro exchanged glances, divvying up the three men. Wufei checked his watch and held up three fingers. Heero said, "Top level. I go right." I pulled my own gun from my shoulder holster and wiggled my fingers to set them over the trigger area, waiting for the count. "One—" I stood and signaled Trowa and Quatre with a thumbs up. Heero and Wufei were out of their seats, slinking up the center aisle of the passenger mid deck all the way to the stairs by the count of "two." On "three," they raced up the short flight of stairs to the flight deck, where the three targets were in the last 30 seconds of countdown to lift off. Wufei slammed the navigator into the wall, grinding his back into the emergency exit controls, before taking him out with a lightening fast blow. Heero cold-cocked the pilot and was hauling his limp body out of his seat, when the co-pilot came to life, drawing a stun gun from under his seat. A precisely placed kick from Fei's right foot struck the man's hand, sending the freed gun flying into one of the windows. Thankfully the material didn't crack. Trowa dragged the pilot away and Quatre helped Wufei carry out the navigator. Heero rounded up the stricken co-pilot and pushed him out of the compartment, while I set my gun aside and tackled the controls. First thing, I checked our destination. "All right, course entered and cleared." That was a big relief. I didn't know how I would have gotten that information without drawing suspicion from the tower. My license was still good, but a sudden change in shuttle staff would have been remarkable, and we didn't need anyone interfering now. Next, I found our position in the countdown. With ten seconds to lift off I knew my buddies wouldn't have time to buckle in. We didn't need to add multiple injuries to our problems, so I quickly weighed then accepted some risk as I coded in a one minute delay. That drew a response from the tower. "This is tower watch ten-sixty. Acknowledge the reset. Clear for sixty and counting down, shuttle two-niner-eight." "Two-niner-eight. Passenger had to take a piss. Thanks, ten-sixty." I could hear the very human chuckle over the communications crackle. "Damned passengers, eh?" "Yeah, make our jobs a whole hellova lot simpler without them," I said, joking in return. Keeping it light put everyone at ease. I felt Heero's warm breath near my ear and a strong arm reach around me to buckle up my harness. "They're locked in the lower level equipment bay. Safe. Everything okay? We should have taken off by now." I rubbed the back of his hand, still concentrating on reading the furiously changing readouts as the shuttle restarted its launch routine for the final seconds. His presence, the warmth of his skin both reassured me of his feelings. "All is green for go. I just got us a delay of launch— only a minute. You have... forty seconds to get your ass parked." "Aye, aye, flyboy," he said with a slight squeeze of my shoulder. "Thanks." "You bet. Can't have bodies flying around at take off. Thirty, Wing." One last pat then he slid into the co-pilot's seat. He strapped himself in with a smile. "It's been a long time. Let me do this." "Sure," I said with a smile. "Thanks for backing me on this, I just couldn't—" "I know. Twenty. The temps running high on that valve." I adjusted the airflow and watched the dial move down. "Ten seconds, everybody. Hold on tight!" Like riding a Gundam, a very complicated, big, clumsy Gundam. The take off was smooth as my lovers ass, which wasn't so very far away as I thought about it. We cleared the station and escaped the atmosphere. "Where are we going?" Heero asked. "Colony 56." "There's a camp there? I didn't think that was habitable." "Well, someone's gone to a lot of trouble to make it so, apparently. We gotta ETA of two hours." Heero reached into the overheard storage compartment. "Let's see what the boys brought for breakfast." The two hours passed with Heero and me chatting in a companionable manner. Whatever dark cloud had hung over us earlier had wafted away in the rush of activity. Wufei, Quatre, and Trowa took turns guarding the captives, tending the boys, and visiting us. In the cockpit, we could speak freely and so we discussed what we'd do once we landed. "I feel bad about the pilots. They're just with the shuttle service," Quatre said. "The agent in me says to just flash my badge and demand they turn it over to us. I have the authority." "But that so-called navigator works for Gunter," Trowa put in. "If he knew we were with Preventer's our cover would be blown." "You're sure?" Quatre asked. Trowa nodded. "I said so, didn't I?" The sharpness in his tone was not lost on his boyfriend, who flushed with shame. "I-I wasn't doubting your word. I don't know him. He is someone you've seen about the house, then? I didn't recognize him from any of the camera feeds." Trowa shook his head fractionally. "At club Oz. He sat at Gunter's table a few times. I got a good look at him." Trowa glanced over at Quatre and the two shared a private moment, ending when Trowa rubbed his thumb over Quatre's bracelet, slipping under it to caress the delicate pulse point at his wrist. "Then he probably wonders what the fuck we're doing," I said in a loud voice. "I miss tennis." Quatre sighed hugely. "Hoops." "Running," Heero added. "I haven't run in weeks." "All we've got is sex," Trowa said. I felt his eyes bore into the back of my head. I concentrated on the monitor display of the system readouts just above the front-facing window out. He added carefully, "At least, some of us." I caught myself from meeting anyone's eyes, especially Quatre's and Heero's. It wasn't fair to make that dig. "Dancing. Don't forget that aerobic activity." Trowa checked his watch. "Time to trade. You or me?" he asked his lover. "I'll go. The boys were asking for you." Trowa and Quatre left the cockpit and in a few minutes, Wufei joined us. Wufei sniffed. "I already miss the dojo." "Don't we all," I said. "Exercise, fresh air, our house. Don't get me thinking about what I can't have yet." Wufei settled himself into the navigator's empty seat. "I've been thinking about how this will go down when we land. We must keep the hatches sealed, closing off the crew compartment from the storage bay, possibly freeze the mechanism so they can't be forced open. With the three shuttle hostages in the lower level and the boys in here, we only need one of us to stay and guard them, leaving four to unload the payload and deliver the bad news about the 'missing' boys." "I suggest Duo remain on board, ready for take off. We may have to make a break for it if our contacts at the base don't believe our story." I didn't like that, but I couldn't argue Heero's logic. I was the only one of us able to affect an emergency launch, under manual controls, in under a minute. If we had to make a fast getaway, I was the man. "I still should be armed," I said, relinquishing all my arguments and being the model team player. "Of course," Wufei said, acknowledging my reasonable request with deference. "So, the four of us unload—" Heero began. "Sand suggested that we should look like well-armed supervisors and guards, get them to unload, doing the inventory as we go. When everyone's off the ship, we close up and take off. We can discuss the fall out with Gunter over the phone," 'Fei said. "Sounds better than trying to hold off a standing army," Heero agreed. "We have about twenty minutes until I have to bring us into the receiving bay. Time to boogie, boys," I said. A few minutes later, Heero nudged my arm. "Shen and Tamer opened the duffle bags. I'm outfitted. Your turn. Go get ready. I can handle the ship." "Yeah, guess you can. Thanks." Trowa threw me a tactical vest before I reached the mid compartment. He held a com unit in his hand and fiddled with it as I stripped off my suit jacket and changed. I picked up a Glock 23, shoved it into a holster at my hip, trading out for the one I'd brought and caught a rifle that Trowa threw to me. I looked the rifle over and smiled. It was Colt CAR-16 with an ACOG scope and a surefire light. I checked the chamber and gave it a thorough check before loading and unloading it, setting the safety and putting the magazines in the bulletproof vest. "Sweet. I usually use H&K MP5's but I've always preferred the CAR-16, even if it is a little louder," I said then grinned. "Maybe because it IS a little louder." Trowa shrugged stoically and turned away. I guessed I wasn't his favorite person right now. I jammed my arms back into my suit, adjusting the fit, which was a little snug now. "Hey, Shen! We're outfitting ourselves pretty tightly for this maneuver. How does this rate up with your raid?" "Some my team members were Preventer's Tactical Forces and customs agents; it was a joint raid and we out numbered the drug runners three to one. This has the potential to be much worse in every way." "Why do you think that?" Quatre asked. "We're ex-Gundam pilots!" Wufei looked up as I did to where Quatre was digging around in the bag for another clip of ammunition. "Not something you should announce, Sand," I reminded him with a tilt of my head in the direction of the seated boys. "Oh! Sorry!" he said. I pointed toward rear of the shuttle where the crates were stashed. "Open up the air lock and take a look, Sand, but be quick because we'll be landing in—" "Ten!" Heero shouted over the roar of the side rockets making minute changes to our approach. I heard Quatre let out a low whistle as I made my way up the stairs to relieve Heero. He could pilot, sure, but I was licensed and in practice. There was no reason to break any more rules than necessary. "Looks like the perp runs guns as well as drugs and boys," Quatre said. "Which means," Wufei said, taking up his argument again, "this will be a more dangerous drop off than we thought. Most dealers will shoot in fear and try to hide their drugs. Drug runners trafficking guns would rather shoot you than let you take their guns. They have a stock in their guns as well, and certainly don't want you to get away with their second way of making a living." "Secure for landing!" I shouted. After we landed, I ran through the partial shutdown of the engines. Through the thick, triple-paned window, I could make out our welcoming committee jogging and rolling to the loading zone. Twelve men carrying weapons, a mechanical lift to remove the Hermes crate, motorized trolley for the boxes of weapons, and a bruiser the size of Atlas carrying a clipboard. I left the engines cycling for immediate re-launch, unbuckled the safety straps which were a part of the pilot's seat, and skipped down the short staircase to see the others off. I looked over at Heero, who was checking his equipment. He was now dressed in full raid attire under his expensive suit and looked cold and hard. I could see the way the rest of the team members looked up to him and it made me weak in the knees. I made my way closer and stood beside him as Wufei gave out instructions on what he had planned. I told them about the group waiting for them outside and Quatre fine-tuned the job assignments. Heero sketched a quick map of the warehouse bay, while listening to me. "This where they are? Where did they enter? Any other doors?" he asked. I have an excellent memory and told him everything I saw in the few minutes after landing. He nodded, made notations, then interrupted Quatre and Wufei. He was so sure, so strict about what he wanted and he was so fucking confident. They arrived at a joint agreement. I looked up as Heero stood in front of me. He smiled and said, "You know I love you." "I know." I acted like he was telling me that the grass was green. "You're such an asshole sometimes." "Hey," I smiled. "I know that, too." I leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss. "I love you, too, so be careful." "I'm always careful." He stood as Trowa opened the airlock. Trowa, Quatre and Wufei disappeared from my view then Heero was gone. The door snapped shut. I'd forgotten the boys were there, huddled together watching, until I heard one gasp at the blast to the door control panel. I could smell the sizzle of melted circuitry. "Well, we're locked in now," I told them, smiling. "Um, you can call me Scythe, Duo for short. I'm your pilot." "Which one were you?" one of the boys asked. "Which one of what?" "We heard him. He said you'd been Gundam pilots!" Damn if Quatre hadn't said that and the kids listened! When did kids ever listen? Anyway, he'd been right when he said he'd make a terrible UC agent. "He's 02, dummy!" the boy beside him said. "Duo means 'two.'" "He kissed that other one," whispered the youngest boy. "He flew Deathscythe!" "Oh! Wow, cool!" I scratched my head and realized my braid wasn't tucked beneath my coat. I remedied that oversight and smiled. "You guys are pretty sharp. Yeah, Deathscythe...that was me. Listen, this is a dangerous situation, so I'll need you to pay close attention when... shhhhh!" I paused hearing something. I dashed to the tiny observation window in time to see Heero already moving out, circling left until he was blocked from my view behind the men unloading the crate. The gun boxes were next. The man with the clipboard jabbed his sausage-sized finger at his clipboard. Wufei hollered at the perpetrators to drop their weapons. Trowa and Quatre hopped to the ground, fanning out alongside Wufei. The action moved, taking place out of sight from the window. I was about to climb back up into the pilot's seat and call it a day, when gunfire erupted from the payload chamber and the airlock panel burst apart. The door opened a few inches, a gloved hand pushing it further. I heard the short bursts of an AK-47 and tried to keep the three boys on the cabin floor. I found the source and fired back, hitting the suspect in the chest. I moved in, kicked the rifle out of his dead hands and turned, seeing the door open slightly. I opened it with the end of the rifle, nudging a woman backwards away from the passenger compartment. "On your knees and hands above your head!" Wufei shouted from the bay. He bound her wrists with a set of ties and looked at her. "Lie down on the floor and don't get up until someone comes to get you or you'll be just as dead as your friend there." She nodded her head nervously, tears running down her cheeks. I heard more yelling, but the gunfire had stopped. I made my way back through the ruined door, grabbing the feet of the dead man and pulling. I was surprised when the older boy clutched the man's arms and helped me slide him alongside the frightened, captured woman. I thanked the kid with a lopsided smile, which he returned before skittering back to his seat. I heard Heero's voice saying that the warehouse had been contained, for the moment. Trowa and Quatre climbed into the shuttle and hauled the woman and dead man out. "Move it Scythe!" two voices shouted. I had that ship launched into space so fast I left nearly a dozen stomachs back at the army training site. We took a few nicks to the shuttle's outer surface, which would keep the boys in the maintenance bay working over their spring break, most likely. When we were out of range from retaliatory ships in orbit, had there been any, I turned on the autopilot and hopped down for a chat with the others. Heero had his cell phone in hand. "Good. I was about to call Wind with our news." "This I have to hear. Go ahead. Better you than me, that's all I've got to say. "Yes, get this over with," Wufei said. "Wing here. Fine. Delivery done, mostly. What do I mean by that?" he said to let us know what was being said on the other end. "Wind, we have the boys. That's right. No, it was a mutual decision. Mutual, as in all of us agreed to do this. Okay, what we want is for you to find them a safe place, and tell Gunter... Yes, we'll let you do that. You are welcome." Heero chuckled. "Yes, this is that Wing speaking. Not a drop. Tell Gunter that once the conference is over, we will personally deliver the boys to their summer camp, but until then, consider them our insurance policy. Make it a nice camp with their guardians, if you can locate them. Yes, there were challenges. Well, none of us ever had to worry about damaging our $4000 suits during the war. What was that number, you ask? Four grand, but the accessories added up to... Wind?" Heero cracked a smile. "Lost the connection." One of the boys pointed at him. "And that's Heero, 01. He flew Wing." "That's so cool!" "He kissed 02, though." "Shuddup. Which one was Chinese?" "05, the pilot of Shenlong." "I saw a picture of 04 and he was blond." "They're undercover, you idiot!" Wufei was sputtering something about losing his identity, or something.
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