"They All Fall Down"

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters

Author: Karen The Huntress

Rating: R

Warning: angst, violence, language, slightly AU

Pairing: 1x2

Feedback: Always appreciated and answered.

Summary: Heero and Duo are on a mission together.

"They All Fall Down"

Quadrant 145 Maximum Security Complex loomed against the star-studded horizon. Designed to dehumanize prisoners of war and political dissidents caged within the macabre hellhole, Q145 was the Earth Sphere Alliance prime instrument for administering physical and physiological abuse.

Unlike ancient castles with bulwarks of crude cut stone and clay mortar, outer walls were constructed of iron beams reinforced by steel plating six inches thick. Substitutes for battlements crowned with parapets, A-Class laser cannon turrets defended the rooftop.

To further safeguard the perimeter, double loops of electrified metal fencing interspersed with halogen spotlights replaced moats. Instead of knights brandishing swords, OZ sentries armed with Combat Master assault rifles patrolled the sentinel-secured grounds.

******

Delta Sector 22

Colonial Federation Headquarters.

Commander Robert Johnston stood beside a large recon wall map for his consultation with a trio of battle strategists and six Mobile Suit squadron leaders assembled in the war room.

"Our threefold objective," Johnston reviewed newly issued orders, "is the immediate retrieval of all prisoners incarcerated in Q145, detain OZ personnel who have the common sense to surrender then demolish the entire complex."

Captain Chang Wufei, a seasoned L5 veteran, appraised the primary directive. "At present sixty Taurus have been refitted for inner-atmospheric combat." he informed, "An additional fifty will be ready in twenty-four hours."

Recently arrived from Barclay Air Base, Lieutenant Lisa Barnes played devil's advocate. "Even if every available suit is ready to engage in an integrated sortie, seventy five percent would be obliterated by cannon emplacements before reaching optimal firing range."

The lone civilian statistician from Tokyo , Akira Morimoto, concurred, "That percentage is higher than the acceptable attrition ratio."

Johnston paused to consider the varied evaluations. "I concur. It's imperative the cannons be eliminated prior to launching a coordinated attack. Any proposals for a preemptive course of action?"

Chief Operations Officer Shawn Malone advised. "I recommend a proficient shot-point controller and an expert sniper who can pick off each artillery gunner thus undermining the defensive grid."

"All right." the Commander agreed, "Assign a qualified pair and get Operation Liberate on track ASAP."

******

Twenty-four hours later.

Dense clouds eclipsing the crescent moon cast vague shadows across Intersect Point 96. Intermingled in shades of gray, Wing Zero and Deathscythe Hell blended into the camouflage of leafless branches clattering like skeletal wind chimes.

Again Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell had been partnered on a decisive mission, this time, to whittle away obstructive fortifications in advance of the Federation's aerial blitz.

Inside the Death Gundam resurrected from Hell Duo donned an impassive mind-set as he monitored tracking computers, charted wind velocity, calculated sight trajectory and calibrated degrees of descent.

Forty meters below Deathscythe.

Encased in commando black that accentuated hard muscles and lean planes, Heero stretched out on his stomach, braced elbows on the stony ground and transmuted into a phantasmic apparition among brittle fox grass.

Analyzing target data transmitted by Duo via a receiver/transmitter headset, vertical, horizontal and range distance alignments were synchronized on a Viper SRS66 silencer equipped sniper rifle then Heero waited.

This protracted lag time pending final conformation was always the hardest. The realization a split second separated life and death, that in less than a heartbeat hopes and dreams would cease to exist, still spawned pangs of regret.

Despite Doctor J's psychosocial encoding to totally eradicate emotional feedback, sparks of humanity survived. Yet each time the Perfect Soldier wielded Wing Zero's destructive powers or bestowed death with a trigger pull more piteous sparks were extinguished by unshed tears.

Duo's voice sounded so close he could have been lying next to his covert collaborator. "Three degrees to center. Drop adjustment two-point-seven. Confirm."

Ceaseless wind ruffling Heero's bangs, his right eye focused through the night optic scope. Gradation settings were mentally acclimated. Objective materialized in amber tinted crosshairs.

A steadying breath hissed over pursed lips. "Target sighted."

THUD verified the muted shot.

"Target terminated."

******

Meanwhile Duo was also dealing with emotional backlash from his complicity in the remote terminations. Yeah, 01 might be dispatching the kill shots but 02, with fucking certainty, was validating his ruthless reputation as the God of Death.

Attention divided between relaying revised calibrations and tracking the results, Duo employed his own coping methods. A jazzy version of "Wild Wing Boys" was hummed while an Origami crane was fashioned from the hardcopy Apprehension Warrant issued for Duo Maxwell, Codename Zero-Two.

Accusations filed by Provost Marshal David Paxton were as followed:
1. Unauthorized use of a military shuttle.
2. Forged pilot registration.
3. Failure to file a flight plan.
4. Theft of 5,000 fuel cells from the Romefeller Starlight Armory on Colony L1.

Additional charges of insubordination stemmed from Duo's refusal to disclose the altered access codes for Gundam XXXG-01D2 registered as Deathscythe Hell.

Finally, Paxton cited a recent Psych-Evaluation for Duo Maxwell: Threats of bodily harm to superior officers, destruction of property, absolute disregard for protocol and unorthodox modes of combat are irrefutable evidence of Zero-Two's predisposition for aggressive behavior and belligerent disrespect for authority.

A supplementary notation named Howard, no surname or citizenship listed in Earth or Colonial Databases, as coconspirator for transporting Romefeller's pilfered property.

"Told the stubborn old man not to get involved." Duo muttered as a second crane joined its twin on the cockpit console. "Left correction four-point-eight." delivered the next death sentence.

This time no confirmation from Heero preceded the hollow THUD.

******

Backlit by the halogen aura generated by Q145, Duo studied his distorted reflection in Scythe's shatterproof viewport. Head tilted in wonderment at the dreamscape image he sought a sense of self or that elusive chi Wufei was always meditating about or the answer to a nagging question.

"01." was called before Duo realized he'd spoken aloud.

"Hai."

"Do ya think 03 and 04 are doin' it.?"

Puzzlement accented Heero's response to the out of the blue query. "Doing what?"

Duo sighed. "The horizontal tango. Ride-em-cowboy. For fuck sake, I'm talkin' about sex!"

"Why would I be interested in their personal liaisons, sexual or otherwise? Transmit the damn targeting sequences." Heero ordered with noticeable annoyance.

"Elevation adjustment twelve-point-forty four."

THUD.

THUD.

******

Ground activity at Q145 had definitely intensified. Even though scurrying personnel resembled anthills stirred with a stick there was a familiar cadence to the organized confusion.

Almost invisible beneath a shroud of darkness the prone sniper evaluated cause and effect. Instinctual clock ticking, Heero counted mere minutes until the rooftop was scrutinized and the gunners' demise discovered. Milliseconds more before irate Ozzies sought the shooter.

Even factoring the Federation squadrons' ETA into the "get your shit in gear" equation, he reckoned time was indeed running short.

Sixth sense demanded with urgency. "FINISH UP!"

Headset channel clicked. Heero prepared for the last numeric correlations. Instead Duo announced. "Hold on a sec. Gotta piss."

"I don't need a babysitter." was replied curtly.

Footsteps shuffled. WHOOSH sounded when the hatch release uncoupled.

Silence.

No humming. No indistinct mumbling. No baffling noises like paper being torn.

Content with the quiet, Heero lined up the final four shots.

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

******

Upon Duo's return from watering the forest he was greeted by insistent beeping. Manic warning lights proclaimed a bad omen. Flopping into the cockpit seat he switched on panel arrays and activated external monitors for visual confirmation.

"No detectable objects within scanning range." he whispered as if any increase in volume might evoke more mainframe poltergeists.

Thermal Imager isolated 01's yellow contour with red core parallel to the ground. Several dull secondary heat signatures moved in erratic patterns. Too small to be human the mystery silhouettes were most likely foxes, rabbits or raccoons.

A jumble of scarlet dots, that sure as hell weren't fireflies, pulsed across the radar screen. "Doesn't make sense." Duo argued with the ambiguous configurations. "Could be ghost refractions. System malfunctions don't usually----"

"SHIT!" was proclaimed as the riddle was suddenly deciphered. "01!"

"Hai."

"MOVE YOUR ASS!"

Trained to react then ask why, in one fluid motion, Heero rolled up, clutched the rifle to his chest and ran full throttle on an uphill course to Wing Zero. Less than ten meters were covered before high-pitched drones heralded an enemy airborne assault.

Five meters.

Just as a squad of Aries surged out of the night like a swarm of angry hornets, Heero clambered up Wing's gundanium exo-skeleton. Settled into the seat, four point harness locked, he and the mock human warrior melded as one.

For this battle the Zero System was forgotten. This clash would be fought utilizing experience, skill, guts and grit, fortitude and fire.

Duo took the split second he didn't have to secure his harness. Roused from shutdown slumber Deathscythe Hell awoke with electronic jolts, hydraulic pressure surges and sturdy shudders from activated mechanisms.

Branches shivered. Creaks then splintered snaps underscored both perfect grade Gundams' emergences from the woody fringes.

In a terrifying transmogrification, Deathscythe's eyes glowed and black demon wings unfurled. Beam Saber in hand, Zero took the guise of a banished archangel hell-bent on dispensing punishment and clemency.

Neither the Perfect Soldier nor God of Death condoned absolute slaughter. Mission parameters were limited to forfeiting a few lives to save many more. Defensive actions were no exception. Inflict maximum damage but, if possible, spare the Aries pilots.

Throughout the skirmish communication channels were silent. Likewise dormant monitors concealed sweat-streaked faces scowled in concentration or grimaced in pain.

Wing Zero spun through a labyrinth of energy beams in graceful ripostes. Parry. Dodge. Attack. Decapitate one assailant. Cut another off at the knees.

Deathscythe sidestepped a missile. Thirty meters to the right, the impact explosion gouged out sizable chunks of terra firma that buffed the mecha with dirt, stones and fractured trees.

Duo's retaliation was a calculated incision across the offender's titanium alloy chest plate. Snaky wires and severed circuits spilled from the breach. The immobilized suit froze in place.

******

Disabled and dismembered Mobile Suits, belching gray smoke, sputtering blue-white sparks and bleeding inky fluids, littered the battle-scarred hilltop. Human injury and death tallies were unknown.

Still determined to fight, a pair of Aries, staggering on wobbly hip joints, aimed depleted weaponry but their compromised functions were more a nuisance than a threat.
A quartet of latecomers wisely decided retreat was the best option. Whether the withdrawal was voluntary or recalled by Q145 was not apparent—not until, like shooting stars, 100 modified Taurus MS blazed across the midnight sky.

Rendered inoperative, laser cannons offered mute testimony to the expertise of a skilled sniper and proficient shot-point controller.

In desperation OZ fired rifles. Limited range missiles were launched in futile resistance.

******

Operation Liberate was a decisive success. 1,622 male and female prisoners of war, many incarcerated for over a year, gained their freedom from brutal, horrid abuse.

While awaiting ground transport to Delta 22 Med-Center, triage teams evaluated the rescued captives' physical and mental health and initiated field treatments.

Nine Federation pilots sustained minor injuries. Six required advanced care. Fortunately there were no fatalities.

Fifty-five Q145 guards, twelve OZ officers, sixty-three support personnel and ten Aries pilots were taken into custody. Eight gunners and seven soldiers were removed in body bags.

******

Atop wind swept Intersect Point 96, Heero and Duo surveyed the mission aftermath with exhausted relief and poignant regret.

Heero had endured his duty. However each unsuspecting gunner centered in his scope was indelibly etched in his mind. Bodies twitching, going limp would replay in vivid nightmares.

Perhaps Doctor J. was right. Emotions should be exorcised.

Numb mind.

Frozen heart.

Lifeless soul.

But then the Perfect Soldier couldn't love Duo Maxwell.

Duo suffered his own brand of blame for countless unatoned transgressions. As the Grim Reaper's agent he had chosen to meter out punishment for wicked deeds. He knew the terminations were warranted. He was also certain no absolution would be forthcoming.

Perhaps Duo didn't deserve salvation.

But then the God of Death couldn't love Heero Yuy.

******
Mission Completed.

Duo pivoted in place, took Heero's hand and sighed, "Long ago someone told me the wages of sin is death."

Taken aback by the unpredicted statement, Heero leaned closer and kissed his braided lover. "That may be true," he agreed in theory, "but what is the price of redemption?"

OWARI

~ * ~

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