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"Alternative Directions: Options "Written By: Karina Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the lovely
boys and their girls in the series. Wish I did. Please don't sue me.
I haven't even got a brass razoo to give you. Rating: Deffinately PG in Australia, at the moment,
but probably safer to say R for later chapters. Not sure about international
ratings Warnings: It will be 6x2, even though it does
not start out that way. After all, Zechs and Duo never met in Gundam
Wing and only spoke briefly over a com line in Endless Waltz. I've
tried to keep them in character as I saw them in the series. A bit
of language creeping in under stressful conditions. Pairings: eventual 6x2, past 2xH, 2+H,6x9, 1+R
Summary: Directions is set post Endless Waltz
and roughly 2 years have passed. Zechs and Noin are on Mars and Duo,
after spending some time with Hilde in a relationship leaves L2 to
join Preventers. Hilde was not happy about his decision. I guess enough
said. Here t'is, and I hope you like it. This is also AU for the standard
setting, as well as the series and Endless Waltz. Spoilers: Gundam Wing Series and Endless Waltz Many thanks to Dulin for volunteering to beta this. //... // thoughts
"Alternative Directions: Options"
Chapter 124 Mars Colony Base Dome 2nd March AC 198 Time: 01: 33 [approx Sanc time 23:25] Simpson His eyes flicked from the blood smear marking the wall to the staff who were not quite cowering behind the man who at least had the balls to front him and then to the man himself. The staff, these workers who handled bodies without blinking but who backed away from him so readily and who had cowered before him until this other had appeared- in their cowering he had to admit that he had gained no information at all. Frazier was watchful behind him and he knew his back to be safe and that he could concentrate on confronting this man. Clearly there had been developments since last they had come through here. //Something is very wrong. It feels wrong. The way they watch us … It does not lend any credence to there having been an accident. No, that certainly feels wrong and the way they are behaving … The way they are watching us … Do they know? Can they possibly know anything of our mission here or do they just suspect? Does it have anything to do with us at all? Someone has died here, that is not in doubt but who was it and why?// His eyes fixed on the surgeon and he considered the man with narrowed gaze. //Broadham. Yes, he's the surgeon, I remember reading his file. A Field Surgeon of notable reputation. Alliance, I think and he carried the rank of Colonel at one time. His file suggested that he was good at what he did as a member of the forces and that he volunteered to become a part of the terra forming project some months before Merquise came to Mars. Well before the instance with the Kushrenada brat. He was not on the list as a Sleeper Agent. // The surgeon was glaring at him and no doubt at one time his subordinates had feared that glare but he chose to ignore it. He had time on his side. None of the people present, with the possible exception of the surgeon himself, appeared to be worthy of being considered a threat and in a stand alone confrontation the surgeon would not be a danger to either himself or to Frazier. He noted the heightened colour creeping into the man's face and the gradual stiffening of his posture at his casual appraisal and he restrained the smirk. Obviously the surgeon had not had too many people with the gumption or the rank to ignore him in his days since leaving the armed forces. He supposed that the man might have been a little out of practice with putting the full impact into his glare as the medical staff looked as though they would spook at the first hint of trouble. Exposure to civilians would not have toughened the man or his ability to perfect his intimidation techniques. In this instance Broadham was not going to get any joy out of glaring to intimidate his target. His grandfather was a grandmaster of intimidation and after surviving the many and varied glares practiced by that old bastard he was pretty much immune. His grandparent had been alive long enough to have a patented glare for every occasion and he had the finesse to pull every one of them off to perfection. During his childhood and early training in the armed forces he had been subjected to every glare in the old man's considerable vocabulary. The surgeon might as well have been a two-year-old child about to throw a temper tantrum for all his effort affected the Commander of Blue Squad. “Commander Simpson, I have had a long and exhausting day. I do not need my staff further intimidated or frightened than they already have been by the events of this day. It has been a more that stressful time for us and we all should be in bed. We are tired after hours of surgery and we now find ourselves with the need to perform a bloody clean up before anyone can even consider rest. If you are not going to assist us with the cleanup then should you not be out there hunting the killers who are stalking the base? You are ESUN Security, are you not?” He spared a second for one of his best dismissing looks to be thrown the man's way and continued to stride down the hallway, his eyes narrowing as he did so. He needed to keep the man off balance and he needed to understand exactly what was going on here. He had noted the slight movement of a door down this hallway, and it had been suggestive of a furtive movement. He had the impression that whoever was behind that door did not wish to be noted and while he admitted it was likely to be nothing more than a terrified nurse or cleaner hiding in there from real or imaginary bogymen that something about this entire situation simply did not feel right. He was not going to leave a potential danger at his back. //If they are not running like the devil is after them and they are not screaming like a banshee that they deserve to live then I guess it is safe to assume that they have no idea what I am here for. Rather than cause a bloodbath than could be witnessed and the entire base being warned as to our presence here it may be possible to get cooperation out of them. At least until I have no choice other than to take them down. The Wellington is more than a day away from Mars and I don't want to have to fight the entire surviving contingent of the terra formers in an ongoing fire fight for that amount of time. I especially don't want to have a running battle with only Frazier and two women against the survivors of the base. // His eyes scanned the hallway and the tan walls brought to mind the blood smear on the wall behind him. //A Sleeper? Christ. Surely they had more sense than to hit so public a place as the medical centre without ensuring they had enough back up to make the killing quick and clean.// “Yes, I am ESUN Security, Mr. Broadham, and I am well aware of my duties as such. You have not as yet explained to me the events taking place here and there is also the small matter of my mission here to be considered. I have my orders from my superiors and I intend to follow my instructions to the letter. Now at the moment my concern is for the two members of my squad whom I know to have been in the medical centre receiving treatment. Is it or is it not possible that they may have fallen victim to the Psycho, as you so quaintly term whoever it is who is stalking the base. Is it the base or just the medical centre that is his, her or its killing ground? Allow me to do my job, Mr Broadham, after all I do not instruct you in how to perform surgery, do I? No? Good.” The man was on his heels and he resisted the urge to increase his pace, striding confidently down the hallway toward that door that had drawn his eye. Such a small movement but it had been enough and if these people had not brought down the killer then it was possible that he or she was lurking in that room. Whether killer or cowering flunky he wanted to know. “Heaven forbid that I should tell an ESUN Security Agent how he should do his job.” Broadham put enough venom in that to cause Simpson to pause, his piercing eyes focusing on the surgeon before he started walking again. “We have already searched these few room, Commander Simpson and I can assure you that none of them contained female patients. Nor were they occupied at the time of the … incident.” he hesitated over exactly what to call what ever it was that had occurred here. “What are you doing? There are rooms all along this hallway and … No, never mind. I do not profess to understand how your mind works but surely we have no need to go back over ground that has already been covered? If your team members were in any of the rooms along this hallway then I assure you that they are not now. Just as I can assure you that if they should have been within the two rooms down the hallway on your left that you just passed without examining … Well, if they were in any of them they would certainly be dead, but I know that there were no women in those rooms. Just male patients.” He glared at Simpson, his gaze hardening into something that did cause the Commander to stop. “Dead male patients. Cold-bloodedly executed in their beds. What the fuck is going on in my Medical Centre, Commander?” //His voice … worried?// He considered the man for a long moment, watching him. His flushed face, the tension in every line of his body. Yes, he supposed that was what he would expect a man to look like if he had no understanding of what was going on around him and he found his people and patients dead. //Worried or afraid? More afraid, I think. Yes, afraid. Afraid because there is a killer running around loose or afraid because I'm within a couple of feet of that doorway? He was not looking this way when I saw the door close and he would naturally want something done about the killings. It would have to be one or more Sleepers, of course. Who else would it be? If he wants my help tracking a killer and containing, if not outright killing said killer, then he should be all for me doing a search that involves every nook and cranny in the base. Ah, I caught that well enough. That anxious glance at the door and there is definitely something in his eyes. That settles it. There is something that I will find of interest in this room. What are you hiding, Broadham? Or perhaps … Who are you hiding should be the more appropriate question. // His fingers closed around the doorknob and he shot a quick look at the surgeon who had paled, losing colour dramatically even as he made to reach out to grasp his arm in an attempt to stop him. Briefly the thought flittered through his mind that the killer might be holed up in that room with a hostage or two he had threatened to kill should Broadham or his staff point the way though he doubted that scenario. He was not concerned that Broadham tried to delay him as it was apparent that Frazier was also aware of the surgeon's current nervousness and had been watching him. As the surgeon reached out toward him Frazier smoothly stepped between them, placing his body as a very effective block to the Surgeon's attempt. Simpson smothered the small satisfied smile at the man's sharply indrawn breath before he turned back to the door and considered it. //Something about this room has him spooked and I want to know what it is. Killer and hostage? No, I don't think so.// Frazier stood between the doctor and his Commander, giving Simpson the opportunity to get into the room before any objections could be raised of a physical nature. While the tech was by no means a brilliant hand to hand combatant-his specialty being electronics, not combat- he was certainly better trained than an out of practice field surgeon was likely to be. He was fairly confident that he could afford to leave the surgeon and his cowering medical staff to Frazier. With his subordinate at his back and noting that Broadham stepped back from them Simpson grasped the knob in his fingers. His head shot up and around and he automatically released the knob at the sound of running feet. His primary hand had been grasping the butt of the gun at his waist and now he drew it in reaction to that clear alert. One hand poised on the door knob the other with the weapon half out of the holster he scowled at the man tearing down the hallway. “Sir! Mr. Broadham, Sir! We have found two more! Two more bodies. In the supply room... Two men in combat fatigues … We think … Sir?” the white-coated young man came to a stumbling halt as he finally caught the tension in the air and blinked stupidly as he found himself staring down the barrel of the automatic weapon. “I … Is something wrong? I thought it was all over.” Simpson recognized the uniform as that of an orderly's but what froze him was not the innocence of his appearance but the contents of his speech. He was aware that Frazier had his weapon unholstered and aimed at Broadham and he approved that action whole heartedly, but he did not relax. The orderly's words sent an shock of hope through his nerves and after a few electrifying seconds he eased the pressure of his finger on the trigger as the man foolishly backed off in a scramble. His fingers twitched with a subconscious reaction to pull the trigger but he resisted that urge. The fool should have frozen but he was not an amateur and he could wait to teach the idiot not to tempt him. He could not take the fool down before he learned if his hopes and his fears were realized. // Two men... Combat fatigues?// the staggered thought kept his finger relaxed on the trigger and he glared at the orderly who looked impossibly wide-eyed and pale enough that he expected him to collapse into a dead faint. He'd shoot the bastard if he fainted before he could tell him what he wanted to know. He was missing two men. He had been missing them for hours and while he had been in the Medical Centre before he had not engaged in a room by room search on that occasion. He had met a nurse who had taken him to the women under his command. There had been no word from these men for hours and he had feared them to be dead. At least now he would know where their bodies were to be found. He could not bring himself to believe that the psychos who were working under McIntyre's control would be bothered with changing into combat fatigues to massacre their workmates. It would be easier and make far more sense for them to kill quietly if they blended in with their workmates. Surprise always was good if you could gain the advantage. “Where?” Simpson turned away from the door and practically snarled the question at the orderly. His hard-eyed gaze focused on the man and demanded answers to his questions immediately or the consequences would not be pretty. “Where are they?” Gun still raised and finger hooked around the trigger his growl served only to set the orderly backing up faster and looking more like he was inclined to faint dead away. The fool was visibly shaking and his jaw worked but no sound emerged. There was the sound of a grunt at his elbow and a soft curse distracted him as Broadham attempted to shoulder his way past Frazier who resisted with just enough force to keep the surgeon in place. “Excuse me, Commander Simpson. I will thank you to kindly refrain from intimidating my people. We are doing the best that we can in rather difficult circumstances and we do not need you waving that infernal thing around. I was under the impression that you were searching for information on two women, not on two men? It would help if you could make up your mind on the sex of your people.” Broadham began his tirade sounding angry and finished up sounding more than a little snide. “I have been missing two male agents for some hours. This could be them.” he squashed the flicker of irrational anger at the delay and spared a glare for the surgeon. He had waited this long to hear news of the missing team members and he was not going to fly off the handle because of incompetent civilians who could not keep to their proper place. Civilians like this orderly who did not know enough to freeze when he had a gun pointed between his eyes had no idea how to debrief quickly and efficiently and having the man's superior interrupting certainly was not helpful. He resisted the urge to grind his teeth together and determined that for now he would allow the insult implied to pass. For now. There would come an accounting between he and the surgeon before the day was finished. Of that he would make certain. “Mark, take a couple of deep breaths and calm yourself. What do you know about these two men?” Broadham speared a glare at Frazier, his best Officer's glare and then edged cautiously around the bulk of the tech, careful to make no obviously threatening movement and angling his own body away from Simpson. He wanted it clearly understood that he was not presenting a threat to either man in this situation and that he only wanted to reach his man. The tech flicked his gaze over the surgeon and made no move to restrain him, merely watched him with a look he remembered well from his own military days. This man was a career soldier and Broadham recognized him as such and in that instant he understood how he needed to act. He needed to present himself as he had done in the past, to become once again the Officer he had been and to act the part of his rank. By making no overt moves toward the commander and by presenting himself with the confidence of a superior officer he would have no trouble from the tech. With a small nod of recognition to the man, an acknowledgement of the terms of their silent agreement he reached slowly forward to draw the orderly gently away from the barrel of Simpson's gun. “Really, Commander Simpson, there is no need to threaten my staff. I believe that there has been more than enough death already this day. Kindly put the gun away.” He was uncertain just how he managed to resist immediately lowering the gun and returning it to its holster, but somehow he managed. He knew that in the past the surgeon had outranked him but the man was not military now and had no right of command over him. Considering his orders he was well within his rights to shoot the fool of an orderly now and anyone else who dared to stand in his way but for the moment it suited him to garner what co operation he could. Where the man had dredged that particular tone of voice up from he did not know but his trained reactions wanted to holster the gun and snap out a salute in response. That simply would not do and he gathered together his wits and shot a glare at the surgeon. He would have a few choice words to say to the man in private. He might even put a bullet through his brain at the conclusion of their little talk. Broadham seemed to be aware of his reaction and a crackle of tension swept the scene. The orderly froze under the surgeon's hand and the watching staff further down the hallway drew in shaky breaths, expecting at the least for Broadham to be backhanded by the Commander. After a long moment in which no one other than Simpson and Frazier seemed to breathe Simpson tilted his head toward the surgeon and locked cold eyes with him. There was a look there that clearly warned that he was not going to be pushed beyond this point and the look was clear enough to both the surgeon and the orderly beside him. His point made the gun was then holstered but those ice cold eyes flicked to the orderly and there was more than mere impatience in their depths. He wanted answers and he wanted them now and if they were not forthcoming immediately he would take action. Broadham nodded slightly, acknowledging the silent message in those deadly eyes and knowing beyond a doubt that this man was a killer. He had met the like before in his service days and he was not easily fooled. By the simple medium of standing up for his people he had made an enemy and this man, this killer, was already operating on strung out nerves. Over all, he supposed, Simpson had not had a very satisfying day and that he needed to take that into consideration when dealing with the man and tread with care. “Mark?” He drew the orderly's attention to him. “What do you know of these two men?” The man swallowed noisily, his gaze flicking to Simpson who he eyed with a look that clearly said he expected to be shot as being the barer of bad news. He inched a little further away until he met the surgeon's gaze and froze before he swallowed reflexively and inclined his head over his shoulder and toward the direction from which he had come. “I did not recognized them and they are dressed the same as …” he waved a hand in the direction of the ESUN agents briefly before snapping his hand back to his side. “We found them in the storage and maintenance room just two doors down from the nurses lounge, Sir. I left the nurse looking them over and Potter remained with him as a guard.” //Two men unknown to the resident staff who should pretty much know everyone on the base and wearing combat fatigues. It has to be them! // Simpson restrained the reflexive step toward that curve in the hallway ahead of them. He still needed to confirm that they were dead. “Good enough.” Broadham glanced at Simpson. “Considering the events of the day I gave instructions that none of my people should be left alone until we are certain there is no further danger, Commander. Shall we go and identify these men as belonging to your security force or not?” “They are dead? How did they die?” Simpson queried, a low guttural growl. He had been a part of Blue Squad for three years and the commander of the unit for more than twelve months and he knew each of his men personally. They were a team. They had lived in each others pockets on missions and they had no secrets from each other. He needed to confirm that Blue Squad was bereft of two who had been friends, companions and team mates. No one who had not been a part of the elite group could understand why they had to know or what they would feel with that confirmation. Only he and Frazier could know their urgency and they would need to break the news to the remaining members of the team in the Alpha Dome. //Bloody Merquise! Taking them down and then hiding their bodies in the medical unit. In a supply cupboard. They were good men and they deserved better than that. Why did he kill them and not the two women though? Hmm. I suppose his upper class snobbery would not permit him to harm let alone kill women. Fucking Specials and their codes of honour. // “Dead? No, Sir. No.” the orderly was shaking his head to emphasize his denial. “The … the two men in the closet are alive. I remained long enough for the nurse to check that they were alive and determine what I needed to bring before I came for the gurneys and a doctor.” He cringed at the hard gaze of the eyes focused on him and wished himself elsewhere. “While I am not certain just what their condition is I can assure you that I saw no blood and I know that they were breathing. Sir.” the orderly backed away from the man, side stepping carefully to place the Chief Surgeon between himself and the Commander. “Alive?” Had he heard right? //They are alive? I … I felt certain that Merquise would have taken them down fast and hard. Permanently. I … Were I in his place … it would be the expedient thing to do. // “You sound surprised, Commander, though I admit that after the events of the day I can not say that I blame you for being surprised. To be honest I am not only pleasantly surprised but also relieved and certainly pleased by this discovery. I did tell you that I was hopeful of finding survivors. These are merely the first then.” //Shut your prattling mouth, you idiot. I need to think.// “Merquise was …” he snapped his mouth shut, cursing the mistake of mentioning his target's name. //Shit. I don't want them thinking … I need to cover my ass.// There was no need for these people to know beyond a shadow of a doubt just what his mission to Mars was and he stepped away from the door and flicked a hand down the hallway, motioning the orderly to proceed him. His priority for the moment was to see these men and to formally establish their identity. He needed to know that they were his people and that would give him five to back his actions until the Wellington arrived or until he could contact and rejoin his team in the Alpha Dome. If these were his people, and they had to be, then what was looking to be a very bleak situation had taken a turn for the better. With five agents backing him he could find Merquise and get him under control. He had been so certain that Merquise had to have found them and on finding them he would have taken them down quickly and efficiently if not messily. He knew his men well enough to know that they would not have been taken down without a fight if they had had any warning that their target was in the area. There would not have been time for any finesse, he had assumed, a quick and hard encounter that would have undoubtedly resulted in injuries. He had not expected them or himself to be capable of taking out Merquise without there being some injuries to themselves and their target. When he had failed to contact them he had been certain that they would eventually be found dead. //Unconscious? No doubt they will be hurt but if they are alive … If they are not so badly injured that they can be of use to me … This is far better news than I had dared to hope for.// Yes, he admitted to himself that despite the reputations of Merquise and Noin he had hoped that his men had not fallen to either of the two but the truth was that he and his men were career soldiers and that at some time they fully expected to die in combat. That was the fate of one who dedicated his life to being a soldier even in these so called enlightened days when soldiers were distinctly in bad odour within the ESUN. These days of peace were reducing the instances where a career soldier could fulfil his functions to the full. Live hard and die harder. That was the motto of Blue Squad. That had been their motto since the founding of the squad nearly a hundred years ago and he did not intend to shame the honor of those members now dead. That these two men who had followed him for more than a year and with whom he had associated with for three years might live to fight another battle on another day for their own personal glory was pleasing. They had not deserved to die on this God forsaken ball of rock in the middle of nowhere. That was not how true soldiers died. He caught Frazier's glance at the door he had just left and flicked a finger, informing him by that coded action that he was to remain here on guard and keep anyone from entering or leaving the room. If the killer was holed up in there with hostages he would keep. If it was a cowardly orderly trying to remain hidden then he would certainly keep for later. If it was something else … Now he needed to see to his men but he was not so distracted that he was inclined to leave the mystery unattended. “Merquise?” the surgeons voice was like a very unwelcome deluge of icy cold water. //Damn. He had to catch that slip of the tongue. Well, what the hell did he think ESUN security was doing way out here anyway? Let's be honest. No doubt half the base knew we were here to check on Merquise though that should be all that they suspected. A simple security check. Let's see how far Broadham wants to take this little game.// “Are you coming, Broadham?” he strode away from the door and grasped the orderly by his shoulder and propelled him down the hallway with an impatient grunt. The surgeon quick stepped to catch up with Simpson with a single glance back at Frazier who positioned himself before the door to replace his commander. Broadham did not so much as hesitate, turning his attention to the orderly's desperate look in his direction. With a short and sharp nod he sent the man scurrying ahead of Simpson and himself strode to take up a position beside the agent. “What has Mr. Merquise to do with this matter, Commander Simpson? Surely you do not suspect that he has had anything to do with this? I can assure you that it was not Merquise running around the medical centre indiscriminately killing off my patients and staff.” “No? You saw the killer then? You can positively identify him as not being Merquise?” “That hair is unmistakable and we have found no evidence to suggest that the man has been running around like a lunatic killing off his friends. I have a witness who saw the killer, yes, and it was not Merquise. The man has been a model citizen since arriving on Mars and I cannot say that I have ever heard a complaint against him.” Simpson scowled but kept his reaction to himself. He did not need Merquise to have gained respect, even honest friendship since coming to Mars. He would need to be wary of the citizens of Mars if they might feel obligated by friendship to interfere in this matter. // I do not need anyone wondering if we have had anything to do with this mess at this time so I need to come up with an explanation for our presence here and absolve us of any part in the massacre. At least for now. It would be so much easier in the long term if they can be kept under control until the Wellington arrives to clean up and take Merquise to safety. Maybe I can yet salvage something of the situation if I twist a few of the facts to make the massacre the fault of an outside agency. Perhaps I could use the Sleepers as an insurgent group intent on taking Merquise into custody? That has potential. A rescue? I could pass our presence here off as a rescue from insurgents intent on setting him up as nominal head of a group? Even if only a figurehead if they are so certain he is harmless. As if that one could ever be considered harmless. That might work. Yes, or would it be better to suggest that a group is after Merquise for ransom? He is the brother of the Vice Foreign Minister, after all, who just happens to be the former Queen of the World. What a ridiculous fucking title that is. Queen of the World. Queen of Idiots is more the truth. I could make this work with just a little time and thought.// “That may be, but I need to investigate the incident before I can determine the fault or innocence of Merquise or any other man who might have been involved. The facts are that your people have been killed and that someone is responsible and that as the ESUN agent on the spot it is my responsibility to find answers and offer protection. To all of you. You should not forget that Merquise is the person with the highest profile on Mars at this time and it is possible that he could be valuable to people with the right connections.” //Take the hint and let it bother you that there is more going on than you think. Begin to wonder if I am here because of a threat to Merquise, not because the ESUN considers him a threat in his own right. Just start to trust me and make it easier on us all.// “Until I know for certain what exactly is going on it is my duty to secure him and his family and place them in protective custody.” “You have cause to believe that there is a threat to him specifically?” He watched carefully but Simpson maintained a carefully blank face, neither confirming nor denying the possibility. That silence could be taken as assent or denial. “You are so certain that these people are after him? Could it not be something unrelated to the Prince of Sanc?” //Ah, you took my silence for confirmation. Yes! That is what I want from you, but I think you are a rather clever man and I will not take it for granted that I have pulled your teeth. Not just yet.// He stopped and allowed the orderly to get a few paces from him and fastened his gaze on the surgeon. No matter what happened on Mars there was one thing that he did need to make clear to everyone now alive. If he per chance could gain the upper hand and have them all believe that the murders were caused by an insurgent group or a particularly ruthless group of kidnappers then they all had to understand the rules of their survival. He needed to lay that groundwork, even though it was likely that they were all walking dead men. He did not really believe that it was going to be possible to gain their full cooperation. Yet, perhaps … “Prince of Sanc? There is no Prince of Sanc, Mr Broadham. Milliardo Peacecraft is dead. Milliardo Peacecraft died when a segment of the Libra space fortress exploded above the Earth more than three years ago. If he should by some miracle be proven to be alive do you have any idea of the repercussions that could shake the Earth Sphere?” He met the mans eyes directly, keeping his own gaze steady and hard. “It would not be pretty.” “So … If Milliardo Peacecraft is dead … If he died in the explosion in AC 195, just who is it who has been living on Mars all this time?” Broadham seemed to be watching him with fever bright eyes and a scowl that might have worried those men under his command in past years. Simpson allowed the silence to draw out for just a few seconds longer and then flicked his gaze at the orderly hurrying ahead and to where a door stood open and he could see a man watching them. Waiting. “You have had the pleasure of the company of Zechs Merquise, an ex Oz Specials Officer who was formerly presumed to be dead. Erroneously. Zechs Merquise,” He placed emphasis on the name. “has been living on Mars as part of the Terra Formation Project and he is under house arrest for outstanding charges pertaining to activities performed during the War. As a part of the conditional pardon all players in the war have been granted by the ESUN government Mr. Merquise is free to move around Mars but not to leave the planet without the express consent of the ESUN Council. That is who you have had on Mars, Mr Broadham. That is all that you need to know at this time and that is all that you will tell your people should anyone of them ask. Is that understood?” The silence was profound and he faintly heard the man standing by the door question the orderly as to why he had returned without gurneys. // Take the bait. You and your people will live longer if you do and you should be smart enough to know it.// His gaze flicked over the newcomer watching him with widened eyes. // Looks like another orderly. The male nurse must be in the room.// Broadham seemed to consider his suggestion, never taking his eyes off the Commander and he made no comment. His silence might have been because he understood Simpson's reasoning only too well or perhaps because they had arrived at the maintenance and supply room and he was more concerned with motioning his people away from the door. Simpson grunted softly to himself, satisfied for now. He had a feeling that he and Broadham understood each other only too well. He would need to watch the man. //Good. Now then, if these are my men and if it was Merquise who took them down why were they not killed? I would have expected no less from the rabid dog they exiled here. Look at what his bitch did. She took out two of my men without blinking. The wounds on them were suggestive of a fast and clean kill. I know enough of Merquise's reputation to know that he is not too shy of killing when the situation warrants it. So, this situation did warrant decisive action and killing them would have been the fastest and easiest solution. Why then would Merquise not take them out? Or was it not him who took them down? Is there another element involved here? If not Merquise, then who? Noin? Or someone else.// A stifled scream from the direction from which they had just come spun all four men around and sent them running toward the entrance to the medical unit. Hurrying around the curve in the hallway, Simpson had a hand on the butt of his weapon, confident that he could have the weapon drawn in the blink of an eye. He had not heard Frazier fire his own weapon and the tech would have a clear view of whatever was going on in the hallway Rounding the curve he could see ahead a group of men near the doors to the centre making hushing motions at a nurse who was backed up against one wall, her hands to her mouth.
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