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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 129 Mars Colony Base Dome 2nd March AC 198 Time: 01: 27 [approx Sanc time 23:17] Broadham Bluff. It was all he could do. Until he knew without a shadow of a doubt who it was that he could trust and who it was who was the enemy, if indeed anyone in this situation was the enemy, he had to maintain order and control to keep his people alive. // Perhaps this entire mess is all just one monumental misunderstanding?// No, he had to be honest and a realist about the goings on of the day. Something was very wrong and to think that it was as simple as a misunderstanding was to court disaster. It was foolish to entertain wishful thinking and he was not such a fool that he would act on behalf of either party before he knew the score. His safest option lay in not letting these men suspect that he was suspicious of them being involved in the massacre. By not allowing them to know that Merquise was a patient in the centre he might gain himself some time. So then, he must take all of their lives in his hands and play a dangerous game of bluff with those who might indeed be the infamous Blue Squad and if indeed they were Blue Squad he had best begin to silently pray for the souls of his people and himself. To gain control of this situation the first thing that needed to be done was for him to not look so anxious. Looking anxious would serve no purpose other than to allow these men to think that they could get away with intimidating him and his staff. Already the commander was looming over a nurse, gesturing at the body on the gurney, menace emanating from him. It would not do to permit himself to baulk at that type of behaviour. Above all at this time he must contain his fear and be watchful, alert for any indications which would permit him to determine who had the right of the situation. He must gain control and thereafter remain in control if he hoped to get his people through this. It was, for the moment, the wisest course for him to take at least until he had the facts and could determine a better course. Step one to gaining control of this or any other stressful situation was to project confidence and to demonstrate to all parties involved that he was a professional who expected to be treated accordingly. He had been an officer in the military these same men had served in and now he was a department head. They would instinctively respect that rank if he acted the part. No running down the hallway like a spooked intern. Dignity, professionalism and the expectation of respect being given where it was due must dictate the terms of this meeting. Dignified, yes but he was not intending to attempt to be emotionless or rabid about the situation. He had a right to be pissed at the events of the day and he had to get his displeasure across to them. He was not trying to emulate an automaton but project a concerned professional out to ensure his people were not used for target practice or doormats. “What is going on here?” Good. That drew the attention of everyone in the hallway to him, his staff and the two ESUN Agents and he took his time about closing the distance. Carefully measured even strides, confidence in that stride without having it become an overdone swagger. He was the Chief Surgeon for God's sake and he had his dignity to think of. The Commander was straightening even more to a rather impressive height. There was no doubt that he was taller and broader in the shoulders but Broadham had met his type before and refused to be cowered by those eyes that glared at him. Yes, he had met the type before and this man like those others was dangerous, but that alone did not place him on the wrong side of the equation. //Maintain my dignity. It's all about appearances and while I can run like the devil is on my ass when I have to and dignity be damned, for this … I have to think and be Control to gain control. Looking like a whipped cur or a panicked ass will do nothing for the situation but make it harder for me to deal with them. Besides, if I have to act the bastard then I might as well get some enjoyment out of it. If I could stop my knees from shaking I'd enjoy it a whole lot more. // His people were looking inordinately relieved to see him and he wondered what they thought he could possibly do to protect them if the Blue Squad Commander on a whim turned around and quite calmly shot him. It was not a scenario that was as outlandish as it might first appear. If Haydon Giles was correct about the events taking place then the Commander was intending to kill them all before his mission was complete and why should he wait any longer than he needed to? He would not appreciate a threat to his authority and a department head might be construed to be just such a threat, especially when said department head had military training. // Yes, it is an event that is quite on the cards. // he reflected. At least his staff had had sense enough to place the trolley baring the body between themselves and Blue Squad, not that it could realistically offer them any protection, but the Commander was still eyeing the blood smear on the wall and the draped body on the bed with a frown. //Good. He's not yet ready to strike out and that gives me some time to get my thoughts together. Alright, he's obviously just entered the medical centre and he can not know yet exactly what is going on here. If he did with the weapons he is carrying he could have taken down all of them in seconds. That he has not points to the fact that he might not be so bad as Giles made him out to be. Still, I do know the reputation of Blue Squad and it is not very savoury. I am far from ready to decide who has the right of it. I do not even know this man's side of the story as yet. Somehow I need to get him to tell me what he is doing here. // The nurses and orderlies were looking between himself and the ESUN representatives with uncertain glances and milling about like lost sheep, he decided and the best thing that he could do to defuse the current situation was to remove as many people as possible from the direct firing line should there be trouble. He needed to gain the attention of the agents and then keep it focused on him so that he could get his people safely out of harm's way. “Have you people not already done enough? Get out of my Medical Centre and allow us to work. We are healers, not soldiers!” The Commander turned a glare his way but he refused to buckle under the weight of that stare. He had outranked this man in the days of his military career and he had not forgotten what it was to front a soldier who forgot his place on the chain of command. He continued to stride down the hallway ignoring the glare and noting that his people seemed to be relaxing the closer he came to them. “You are?” He would not answer immediately and give the impression that he was inferior. One, two and a third stride before he decided it was time to answer that question which had come out as more of a grunt than actual words. Yes, the eyes as well as the voice said that this man considered himself to be standing a large number of rungs above everyone else in the social order. He needed to be handled carefully especially if he was to garner much needed information out of him. “My name is Charles Broadham and I am Senior Surgeon of the medical unit. I happen to be in charge here at this time. Now who are you?” Short, sharp toned and his refusal to cow tow to this man made plain by that very sharpness. He would become the control not be controlled. “Commander Patrick Simpson, Task Force Commander, ESUN Security Agency. What happened here?” The man's head inclined toward the body on the gurney even as his eyes once again swept over the blood smear on the wall. By invoking the name of the ESUN Security Agency he presumed to take charge of the interview, placing himself squarely in an official capacity and expecting to be treated as such. As Broadham had expected but there was a note of something in that voice that he read as not quite respect but certainly not as dismissing as had previously been noted. //Better than I had expected. Admittedly not quite a name, rank and serial number scenario but it was at least voiced with something similar to the respect it should have been for confronting someone with rank at least equal to his. That much is progress.// He looked around at the hallway, taking his time, making it clear that he thought what had happened here should have been quite obvious. “What happened here? Murder, Commander Simpson. That is what happened. Cold-blooded murder.” He kept his face carefully neutral but spaced each of the last three words out just enough to emphasize them. “Who died and when?” There was a marked atmosphere of indifference, as though the man could not care in the least about the events that had led to this moment. Certainly there was no flicker in the eyes or expression on the man's face to offer a hint as to what his reaction might truly have been. He could not be so cold, however and he saw no reason to pretend he was unmoved by the situation. He found himself glaring at the man, drawing himself up to stand taller in an attempt to present as large a figure as he could to the Commander. He might be of lesser stature physically but this was going to be a psychological game if he could manage it and there he thought he might outgun the Commander. He would not have tolerated such behaviour during his military days from his own men and he did not need to tolerate it now from this government agent who presumably was bound by oaths to serve the needs of the people. //Cold bastard!// “Most of my bloody patients were butchered in their beds and considerable numbers of my staff along with them, that is who has died! With you bloody psychos running around what more can we expect? I suppose you have butchered more out there, in the dome? Do I even prep for casualties or do I just have to commandeer the meat freezer for an additional morgue?” // What do you make of that? I'll not cower from you and hopefully I did not just blow it. .// “Is that the killer?” Piercing eyes flicked toward the body on the trolley. There had been barely any hesitation in that reaction, and he seemed inclined to ignore the outburst for the moment. The man was curious, that much was certain and he was obviously not a hair trigger fuse at the present time. That was a bonus in that he did not have to fear the man would over react. There was obviously a reason why he had been chosen to become the Commander of such an elite and infamous squad. Perhaps the ESUN were keeping the squad under tighter control than the Alliance had. “No. A victim. One of seven we have found to date in the centre. To be precise, in the first three rooms along this hallway.” He was surprised and not a little heartened to detect a hint of concern in the man's eyes at the quick glance at him before he looked again to the body. Those eyes had acquired a glint that suggested concern but other than that momentary flicker, noticeable only by one focusing intently upon him, the man remained impassive to the casual observer. “You have two of my people in your care. Two women. They were sedated when last I was here.” // We do? That's news to me.// He allowed the frown, since it was a genuine reaction to the news and he did not want to come across too strong. He had to try not to alienate the man but gain his cooperation and try to learn who he could trust. “That would be when?” “A couple of hours ago. All seemed quiet enough when I was last here.” // Hmm. You've been down here before and you never killed anyone? Am I wrong? Has Haydon Giles spun me a line? Am I considering trusting the wrong people?// This was not what he had expected. He did not know Giles. There were more than two thousand people at the Terra Formation base and while he was a department head he was primarily concerned with the medical centre and rarely left his work place. He was a surgeon and his patients tended to be brought to him on gurneys in no fit condition to be talkative. Before this day he could not actually remember meeting the man. It did not help him decide who had the right of the situation and what was best for everyone concerned. “Two of your people? Do you know what rooms they were in? At this stage we have not checked all of the wards. We are doing the best that we can but I am missing staff.” “Down toward the far end of the medical centre.” The man now focused on him though he had no doubt that Simpson was well aware of everyone in his vicinity. He was a professional, one of the elite. If they lost concentration they tended to die quickly in his line of work. “They were apparently sedated and the nurse I spoke to said that they would be regaining consciousness in around three to four hours.” He considered the man for a moment and then glanced at his people gathered in the hallway. They seemed to find the confrontation fascinating as they were watching avidly and at a lift of his eyebrow each hastily shook their heads in denial, disclaiming any knowledge of the incident Simpson spoke of. “I'm sorry, Commander Simpson. We have not yet searched those wards, I believe. I have staff doing a room by room search to determine the casualty count so if you would care to make your way to the nurses lounge …” He slumped a little, recalling the blood stained condition of the room he had unthinkingly named and while blood would not disturb Simpson he was not inclined to remind himself of the incident there. He drew himself up once again and corrected himself, willing to allow the slip and project a human front. Murder was not war and it was no shame that such deaths disturbed him. “No, on second thoughts that will not do. You cannot go there. We have not removed the corpses from the lounge as yet. My office, then, Commander Simpson, might be best. My staff will be thorough I assure you …” The Commander scowled and slashed a hand impatiently to interrupt the man. “No doubt they will be thorough, Mr. Broadham, but I do not have time to waste on waiting for your people to get around to searching for my people. I have a great deal to do and I know where my people are. It will be faster if I go and check myself.” Simpson pushed past and Broadham found the man striding down the hallway with the self same confident stride he had effected in approaching the man in the first place. The Commander's companion slipped past and assumed position a step behind his Commander. Damn, he was going to lose ground here trying to regain control of a situation that all too suddenly turned around. Exactly what had happened to set him on the back foot? He was going to have to lose face to regain control and it would be harder to regain his former position for that very loss of face. // Damn! Now I have to follow-try to regain control. He's good, no doubting that but I will wrest control from him. I outranked him and I had to deal with enough brass who outranked me and still managed to get what I wanted to know how to negotiate terms without backing down. I still know how to speak down to the rank and file, you snooty bastard and you are not going to best me. // He quick stepped after the Commander but he was careful not to actually run or hurry his pace enough that it looked like he was desperately trying to catch up and indeed overtake the man. He had a certain dignity to maintain if he was going to register his superiority over either of these men and to succeed both his body language and his voice must be strong without being nervous or outright weak. “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 had hoped to cause at least a pause in the man's stride but Simpson did not so much as hesitate, continuing down the hallway with his confident stride. He was uncertain what to make of the abrupt glance thrown over his shoulder, a short hard glare before the man looked ahead again. “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.” He experienced a sudden chill running over his spine when he realized where the man was headed. The focus of the Commander had shifted from him to the door further down the hallway, the one door that he wanted to keep him clear of until he knew what was happening. //He's angling for the room where I left Merquise and Giles. Shit. Do I allow him to just waltz in there? I … don't know enough to decide one way or the other who it would be best to trust. No, I don't know enough as yet and that means that I have to turn his attention from that room. How did he know? What did he see? Ah, shit. Giles did run out of the room. Did Simpson see and perhaps recognise him? Why should he know the man? Not important now. I need to get his attention. // “Heaven forbid that I should tell an ESUN Security Agent how he should do his job.” He had hoped to get a reaction if not from the wording then from the venom he injected into the comment and it worked, perhaps too well. Simpson paused and he inclined his head instead of turning around, his piercing gaze focusing on the surgeon for a long moment. He could see the interest and then the dismissal in those eyes before the Commander started walking again. “We have already searched these few rooms, Commander Simpson and I can assure you that none of them contained female patients. Nor were they occupied at the time of the … incident. What are you doing? There are rooms all along this hallway and … No, never mind.” //I have to be careful not to make you think I don't want you going into any of these rooms. That would only lead to a confrontation before I am ready to decide who to back.// He had to exercise extreme care here. He did not want the confrontation he already knew must come between these two men and the two who were in that room just a little further down the hall. Another half dozen strides and Simpson would be at the door. How to gain his attention without giving away his fear of what might happen if that door was opened? Merquise was his patient and he had a duty to protect his patient even if he did not understand exactly what it was he was protecting him from. “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 managed to slip past the Commander and turned a glare on him that did cause Simpson to pause. Good. He had not lost all of the impact of that stare then. It had been years since he had had to work this hard to intimidate someone. “Dead male patients. Cold-bloodedly executed in their beds. What the fuck is going on in my Medical Centre, Commander?” He had heard of pregnant pauses before but this one took his breath and he tried to remain stone faced. A little temper was okay to display, he was the head of the medical staff at this time and some unknown body had slaughtered both his staff and his patients. Of course he had the right to be a little emotional and he was only too aware of the intensity of that gaze centred on him. Simpson stared long and hard at him and then those eyes lifted from him and to the door. Fingers closed around the doorknob and the bastard shot a quick look at him and Broadham was afraid he had either paled or blushed a bright crimson. He should not have reacted! Before he could stop himself he had reached out to the Commander intending to grasp the man's arm to stop him from opening that door but it was an action never completed. The second man stepped brusquely in front of him, his body a shield for his Commander and he could not help but see Simpson's lips twitch in what was undoubtedly a smothered smirk at the small gasp that escaped him. The Commander flicked his gaze over him in what was unmistakably a dismissive look before he again looked to the door . //What the hell do I do now? It's a sure thing that this man is in better condition than me and better trained than I am. To try something physical would be sheerest idiocy. // He could not help the quick glance at the door, the worry that whichever choice he made it was going to be the wrong one. He had to concentrate on Simpson and turning his attention … He was saved from having to make an immediate decision on possibly drastic action by the sound of running feet and Simpson's head snapping up, eyes narrowed as he sought out the source of the disturbance. He felt that his blood froze in his veins as one of the Commander's hands flew to his automatic as he scowled and Broadham turned his head quickly, afraid of what catastrophe might yet be set into motion. An orderly was running around the curve in the hallway and Simpson had one hand on the door knob and the other had his weapon half out of the holster. //God no! Control! Must regain control before someone is killed.// “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 orderly finally seemed to become aware of the tension and the threat emanating from the men gathered near the door to the treatment room. “I … Is something wrong?” he sounded his uncertainty. His fear. “I thought it was all over.” //He'll kill him! Shit, shit, shit. What do I do?// He seemed unable to move or even speak as the ESUN Commander slowly and thoroughly looked the orderly up and down. It was an assessment of the threat level the newcomer might present and it gave him hope that Simpson was not one to shoot first and ask questions later. There was a danger that if he spoke or moved and startled Simpson then he could actually cause the man to shoot. Even as he gathered his own wits about him he was august to see the orderly cringe and began to edge backwards, away from the armed man. Broadham tensed actually considering for all of a single second the results of flinging himself at Simpson in an attempt to save the fool from his own stupidity. Did the idiot have no survival instinct? He should have frozen, remained still and allowed the situation to cool or trust in his superior to act on his behalf, but no, the fool actually had to back off and tempt fate and the agents control. Dare he react, reach out to stay Simpson or would that make it worse? After a moment in which he was certain he could hear dust settle on the floor the pressure on the trigger eased off slowly and the surgeon dared to breathe again. “Where?” Simpson turned from the door and focused his attention on the orderly, his voice a low growl and his hard gaze demanding that he be answered immediately. “Where are they?” To Broadham it was a blessed relief that Simpson gave every appearance of having forgotten that he had been interested in what lay beyond the door only seconds ago. His gun was still raised and clear of the holster and he still had a finger hooked around the trigger and his growl served to further unnerve the orderly who scurried backwards, further straining the Commanders self control. // The fool is going to get himself and probably everyone else shot! // He had no choice, Broadham knew. He was going to have to take immediate action and hope that Simpson would not use the orderly or his attempt to smooth things over as an excuse to shoot him. He was treading on thin ice by being the Head of the Centre and daring to question the authority of the ESUN Agents but he saw no other choice. With a deep breath he tried shouldering past the body of the agent blocking him from interfering with the Commander only to discover that he might as well have tried walking through a brick wall. Regardless, he had to turn Simpson's attention from the man who was one tiny step off bolting and earning a bullet in the back. “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.” He carefully schooled his voice between anger at the opening words and finished up on open sarcasm. He was not going to cringe and simper like a simpleton or a frightened rabbit and he had to have faith in the training the Alliance would have given Simpson. An officer had to have control and if he was wrong then he was about to die very publicly and the blood bath would begin. He knew that he should have restrained the sarcasm in the last part of his tirade but the truth was that Simpson was really beginning to get on his nerves with his superior attitude. Whether the man was guilty of mass murder, as was suggested, or not the fact was that he did not have a likeable disposition. To the count of five he discovered he was still alive and that those intense eyes were now trained on him. As disagreeable as the man was at least he did not seem to be trigger happy. “I have been missing two male agents for some hours. This could be them.” //If looks could kill I'd be on the ground now imitating a Dodo. Shit. I am still alive. // Taking a deep breath to steady his frayed nerves he shot a glare at the mountain of muscle in front of him, forcing to the front of his memory his very best officer's glare. With the look delivered he eased himself past the man and took care to angle his body away from Simpson without seeming too obvious about it. He caught the techs eye and the agent made no move to restrain him but he did catch a look he recalled only too well from his days in the military. This man who bore the technicians insignia on his sleeve was a career soldier, dedicated for life to a military existence. It was a realisation that proved vital in determining how to deal with these men. Provided he acted the part of his past rank he could expect no trouble from this technician who had spent his adult life observing the military ranking system. Provided he offered no overt action that could be considered to be a threat to Simpson or the tech then no further interference by the man would be forthcoming. With that realisation he offered a small nod of understanding to the man and he stepped past Simpson, reaching to draw his orderly away from the gun still trained on him. “Mark, take a couple of deep breaths and calm yourself. What do you know about these two men?” He resisted the urge to smirk as he drew about him everything that he could remember about dealing with subordinate ranks and firmed his resolve. He would gain control of the situation and he would gain that control here and now. “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 put every ounce of arrogance and the expectation of obedience in those few words that he could dredge up from deep within him. He drew on all of the years he had been an officer and not a little of the arrogance of a first class specialist surgeon and for all of that experience he was not surprised when Simpson ignored him. He must have lost his touch over the years but though he did not have Simpson snapping to attention before him he did have the man lower the weapon a little, though it did not do so quickly. When he glanced up to glare at the man there was a look in those piercing eyes that clearly said he had been tagged and marked. Without words retribution was promised and without words he acknowledged that challenge. What was important was that Simpson's gun slid into the holster and then those fierce eyes, a predators eyes, flicked to the orderly. //Alright, we clearly understand each other and we both know that I am walking a tight rope. So be it. You are going to have a go at me with the intention of taking me down but not now. For now you need my cooperation and the cooperation of my people. You are not the first enemy that I have made, Commander Simpson and if I survive this day you will not be the last. I recognise you. Not who you are but I recognise your type. You are a killer and we both know it. I think that I am inclining toward believing Haydon Giles story. If I have anything to say about it you will not be learning that Zechs Merquise is in that room. // “Mark? What do you know of these two men?” The orderly was eyeing the ESUN Commander with the look a mouse reserved for the snake that was about to eat it whole and he even backed a step until he noted the warning in Broadham's eye and froze. He gestured vaguely behind him with a tilt of his head to emphasise the general direction. “I did not recognise them and they are dressed the same as …” his hand waved at the combat fatigues worn by the two Agents before snapping it back to his side as though he expected Simpson to break it. “We found them in the storage and maintenance room just two doors down from the nurse lounge, Sir. I left the nurse looking them over and Potter remained with him as a guard.” “Good enough.” Broadham thought he detected a subtle movement from Simpson, as though the man had forced himself to remain standing there. “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?” Simpson actually growled, a low, guttural and extremely dangerous sound that set the orderly to shaking in his boots and Broadham had to glare him into immobility. He wanted no additional strain on the Commander's self control at this time. //If I can get them away from that door then Giles should have a chance to spirit Merquise out of the medical centre. I'll need to buy him as much time as possible. Merquise is in no condition to be able to just leap up and walk away. I wonder what is bothering Simpson? He's fairly straining at the bit. // “They are dead? How did they die?” “Dead? No, Sir. No. 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 flinched back from the hard glare that focused on him. “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.” Assurance given that the man need not kill the messenger he side stepped quickly and carefully to place Broadham between himself and the Commander. //Well, thanks for nothing, Mark! As if I wanted to be in your place. I'm in enough trouble with the man without you hiding behind me. Can't say that I blame you though. You've never had to face a situation like this before.// “Alive?” //I might just be able to use this to gain some small advantage in our game. // He could not deny that there was honest surprise in that single word and that it might afford him an opening in dealing with the agent. “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.” He tried his best to project over weaning confidence into that and only wished that it was true. From what Giles had told him they were likely to find few survivors in the enviro dome and why should the medical centre be any different? “Merquise was …” The man's mouth snapped shut before he could continue and Broadham considered the commander from the corner of his eye. Broadham could see him evaluating the chances of having been overheard and the implications of what the comment might give away to anyone who suspected foul play. //Aahh. You have no idea how much we know of what is going on in the dome. That we have given no signs of undue alarm at your presence here is misleading you to believe that we know nothing of what is going on. Yes, I think I am inclined to believe Giles that this entire mess has to do with Merquise and politicians back on Earth. So, Commander Simpson, just what will your next move be?// He noted the faint movement made by Simpson to his back up. That faint but distinctive flick of a finger inclined toward the door he had hoped Simpson had lost interest in and resisted the urge to curse. It appeared that Simpson had a longer attention span and that there was nothing wrong with his short term memory. Giles might not be able to get Merquise out of the medical centre after all, but for now there was nothing he could do. The best direction lay in biding his time and in give Giles if not Merquise every opportunity to salvage something from this mess, if at all possible. Simpson simply was not going to be distracted from whatever it was that had alerted him to something being important about the room beyond the door. //Let's not allow everything to go your way. How will you react to a little prod? // “Merquise?” “Are you coming, Broadham?” Simpson was suddenly moving, reaching forward to grasp the orderly by the shoulder and propel him down the hallway. //Bastard! Don't manhandle my men, Simpson. If you keep pissing me off you might find that I still have teeth and that I still know how to bite!// He glared at the back of the agent who was propelling his orderly down the hallway and was quick to follow, ignoring the guard who was now stationed at that door. When the orderly seemed on the verge of panic and looked to him as though he was some safety line he waved him down the hallway and lengthened his stride to make up ground on Simpson. //I don't feel like being ignored you asshole. If I'm going to die anyway I can at least see if you can squirm. // “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.” The ESUN Commander actually stiffened at that and he resisted the urge to crow. While he had scored some type of hit he was unsure as to just what it was he had said that drew that very visible reaction. He needed to be careful and actively antagonising the man was dangerous. “No? You saw the killer then? You can positively identify him as not being Merquise?” // Not bad. No antagonism and not even much in the way of curiosity in the question. Maybe just a hint of impatience? I don't know. Something there …// The orderly drew a little ahead of them and he was thankful that Simpson seemed not to notice or simply did not care that what might have amounted to a hostage was getting away from him. “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.” He was curious as to how Simpson might explain his interest in Merquise and not give any hints to his actual reason for being on Mars. There were all too many reasonable explanations unfortunately and at this stage of the game he could not say with any certainty that Simpson was one of the bad guys. Much as he disliked the man he had to be honest and say that the physical evidence suggested that Simpson might yet prove to be a good guy. A good guy having a very bad day. “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. 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.” // Hmm. Entirely reasonable given the circumstances. Yes, very well reasoned. // He walked beside the man, careful to maintain distance and speed and allow the orderly to get a little further ahead. He did not want the young man to become involved in this discussion. He needed to sound Simpson out thoroughly and discount his dislike for the man from his decision. “You have cause to believe that there is a threat to him specifically? You are so certain that these people are after him? Could it not be something unrelated to the Prince of Sanc?” Simpson came to an abrupt halt and Broadham stopped, only one step past the Commander who was watching him with narrowed eyes. Clearly the topic of Zechs Merquise was a touchy subject and one Simpson was about to leave him in no doubt as to just how undesirable a topic it was. “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? It would not be pretty.” He scowled, eyeing the man with no little exasperation. Simpson repeatedly threw him for a loop. Was this man an enemy or a friend? It seemed that he was not destined to get a clear indication of his status. Every avenue merely presented equal arguments. // No, I have no doubt that it would not be pretty if it was known that the man was alive. Media hype. There are a lot of people out there who would have reason not to have questions asked and documentation examined. They would do everything they could to remove the danger his survival represented to them. I have to wonder exactly what it is that he knows that you don't want to come to light. I'm not a complete idiot, you know, though you do not seem to credit me with half the sense I am giving to you. Make a mistake, Simpson. Just give me a clear indication of what it is you are here for. // He was thankful that the orderly now was out of earshot but they were almost at the maintenance room and he did not want any of his people there to hear what might amount to a death sentence. If Simpson was a part of this plot Giles was adamant existed then they all were marked but if he was not he did not want his people to hear what would certainly amount to a death mark on their lives. He already knew that there would be an accounting between himself and Simpson. “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?” Under the intense scrutiny of those eyes he had the distinct feeling that he was about to learn exactly how little the life of Milliardo Peacecraft was worth to this man and he did not like it one bit. What was even more frightening was the thought that he just might learn how little his people's lives were worth when measured up to the life of the Prince of Sanc and whatever use some nameless body on Earth or in the colonies had for him. If Merquise's life was worth nothing then their lives were worth less than nothing. It was a frightening thought. “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 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.” Emphasis had been placed on that name, a subtle emphasis but it had been there and he knew he had been meant to detect it. “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?” He needed time to think, to evaluate what he had learned and determine what his exact course of action should be for the best results for all. For the moment it might be best if he gave the impression that he had been silenced. Spooked even. He had a fair idea now of just who it might be who was pulling the strings on Mars at this time. Zechs Merquise had been stipulated in this little by play with Simpson and Zechs Merquise was an Oz elite. It had implications for the identities of those who played power games back on Earth. Milliardo Peacecraft was a name one did not take lightly in the halls of power and the entire government no doubt would not wish to deal with the implications of the return of that particular man. Zechs Merquise, however, was another story entirely. The Oz Officer had been known to be an honourable man and certainly had had no war crimes listed against him during his career under that identity. He did, in fact, have a record of bravery under fire and an exemplary military record that had been a matter of public scrutiny. Under either identity the man was marked as valuable to those who had the daring and sheer balls to attempt to manipulate him and against that value people like surgeons and orderlies had no value whatsoever. He now knew exactly where they stood. Simpson nodded slightly, a small motion that signalled he believed their conversation was done for now and he moved off and after a moment Broadham followed, still digesting the unsettling knowledge of the scope of the game being played on Earth. Was there anything he could realistically do to keep his people safe? Against this level of power game he was a rank amateur and he would have no chance of affecting the outcome on his own. It was looking like Merquise and Haydon Giles were becoming his only hope of getting out of this mess. They had come around the bend in the hallway and he could see a small cluster of his people stationed at the door of the maintenance room. The hallway behind him was half hidden now but he knew that his people there had returned to their grizzly work once again and were cleaning up after the killing spree. He only hoped none of them entertained any bright ideas of trying to help Giles get Merquise out of the treatment room and past that agent. If he hoped to gain advantage out of this situation he was going to need to keep a very detailed awareness of everybody's location. He motioned his people to move out of the way and followed Simpson through the door, glancing quickly around the maintenance room to get the lie of the land. He heard the ESUN agent grunt softly, a singularly satisfied sound and found himself resisting the urge to bare his teeth in a snarl. // Not as yet. Not now. // He needed to bide his time and exercise all patience. He was damned if he was going to let those bastards back on Earth consign them all to a cold grave on a distant world. There were two men dressed in combat fatigues stretched out on the floor. The jackets and shirts of both were opened revealing heavily muscled chests, a certain sign that their vital statistics were being taken by the male nurse who, at his signal quietly and quickly left the room. He considered the two men and Simpson who was now kneeling beside the first of the men and reaching for his throat to check for a pulse and half turned to the nurse, intending to receive his report. It was like a rerun of a sit com. A bad dream. He had not even managed to ask for the report before the scream, abruptly stifled, echoed once again in the hallway.
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