SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING

SAINAN NO KEKKA
ACT VIII, PART III

 
 
Scene IX: The Price of Freedom

 
It wasn't supposed to end like this.

When he had imagined this scene, he had dreamed he would be speaking to a sea of people, a veritable army of the righteous who believed in the same cause as he did. That they would march in ten thousand strong and take the place by storm, conquerors coming to shine the light of truth onto the places of darkness.

But Enjolras had already resigned himself to the fact that it wasn't to be.

When he looked over the crowd tonight, he'd seen the flicker of torches casting their glimmer not on thousands, but on less than fifty. Fifty brave souls, but only fifty nonetheless. He could see it in most of their eyes that they knew what they were in for. That they knew their commitment to the cause and to him meant following that commitment to the death. But he could also see that they would not hesitate, that the cause meant more to them than their lives.

That was really all he could ask for at this point.

"Why's everyone so gloomy?" Jamie had wondered after the convocation, when he'd laid out the briefing and the plan for infiltration of the base. She held a lantern aloft as they made their way out of the underground bunker up to the narrow streets of the outskirts of Geneva. It was windy outside and the lantern flickered, threatening to blow out, but Enjolras wouldn't have any other source of light for himself. The other members of the cell had flashlights and electric lamps and digital powered spotlights, but he had always been a simple man.

He'd only smiled at her question, patted her on the arm. They walked the rest of the way back in silence. He knew that she had more questions. She was an inquisitive one, yet she definitely knew how to keep quiet and do as she was told, just as much as she knew how to innovate when the time came for her to step up and take charge. An interesting girl, with the odd-colored violet hair and the brown eyes holding painful secrets. Yet she was not unique. All of them, as few of them as there were, held secrets. It was perhaps one of the things they all had in common.

Perhaps the only thing.

His own secrets were perhaps not the most terrible secrets ever known to man, nor were they perhaps that fresh in his mind, but they were recent enough that he preferred not to think about them. He had been a soldier once, like the boys who called themselves the Gundam pilots. But unlike them, he hadn't spent his time cavorting about in glorified war machines. He had been a soldier, fighting on the battlefield for what they called justice and truth, and he'd found only lies.

It was at New Edwards that he finally realized this. He'd seen the attack, seen the Gundams come down from the sky, destroying the very peace that the Federation was working so hard to preserve, and he'd realized in that instant that there was no such thing as peace as long as the military existed. It wasn't about peace in the end. It was about self-preservation. The basic instinct, the animal need to survive, and it disgusted him: the decrepit old men with their long beards trying to reason their way towards their muddled version of a perfect society, the hotshot pilots who didn't care about anything but their own hides and how many kills they made in a day.

He'd survived, all right. He had lost friends, he'd lost comrades. He'd lost an eye at New Edwards. But that wasn't the thing that made him thirst for revenge, because friends could be mourned, an eye could be replaced. He wanted revenge, because they had lied to him.

They told him that being a soldier was the noblest thing anyone could do, and he'd seen that refuted before his very eyes at New Edwards.

He'd been pleading his cause to thousands of groups in the years after the war, but only when the Gundam scare became public had he gained any followers. Sometimes it took a divine act to make people see the light, but as long as he had those who believed in him and the cause, then it didn't matter. They were freedom fighters, just like the men in Les Misérables whose names they had taken as their own. They were fighting for something precious that had been stolen away from them.

"Enjolras?"

"Yes, Jamie?" he said absently. His cyborg eye whirled and adjusted as he scanned the darkened windows that they passed. It wasn't the best cyborg piece you could get on the black market - reliable copies were expensive and required sterile, professional assistance to install. For someone in his line of work, that was far too risky an operation. He'd gotten this one at a discounted price, and it seemed to work fairly well for what he'd paid for it. Sometimes the machinery would catch and he'd have to take it apart and then put it back together, and he'd had to replace the chip in it once. That had cost three months and a small fortune. But all in all, it was worth it for the little gadgets and knick-knacks that one couldn't find in a legitimate piece of machinery.

He used one of those gadgets now to peer inside one of the black windows, reaching up and clicking the little infrared switch. Jamie's face turned a pale, translucent green as he swung his glance up to the window, then up to the roof. Nothing. He shook his head, turned the infrared off. He must be imagining things. There was no way they could have been followed from Milan, and even if they had been, the only people following them would either be Mafia members trying to make an extra coin or two, or members of the French resistance groups up north monitoring their progress. Either way, he didn't care. After tomorrow, it would all be a moot point. The French resistance groups in particular could go to hell, for all the good they'd done him. He'd asked for help, pleaded his cause, and gotten back a stony silence for an answer.

They had picked up some help in Milan, a small resistance cell of about twenty members who promised him their help, though they had little else to give. But in a battle of this scale, every hand counted. It would not be enough, but no one would be able to say they hadn't tried.

"Are you listening?" Jamie's voice said petulantly in his ear. He blinked, then realized she'd been talking for a good two or three minutes and he hadn't heard a single word.

"No," he said sincerely. "I wasn't. I'm sorry. Please repeat the question. I promise I'll listen more carefully this time."

She smiled. He was like that - if he wasn't listening, he would never say that he had been just to make her feel better. She was young, but she was in this as an adult. They were all adults here in this world, and he would never lie to any of them as he had been lied to by the Federation.

"I want to help," she said.

He blinked. "Help in what, Jamie?"

"The plan, of course," she said impatiently. "You said that you needed an advance team to infiltrate the base. I'm there."

He stared at her.

"What?" she said.

"Jamie," he said as gently as he could. "We already have an advance team...the details have already been planned. I appreciate your help, but the best you can do is to-"

"Stay behind?" she bit out. The old pain was in her eyes again. "Enjolras, I joined this group for a reason. If we're to be successful tomorrow, I know I can help."

He didn't have the heart to tell her that they weren't going in with the intention of coming back out alive, but he held that thought. Instead he said, "Explain."

"In order to infiltrate a military headquarters," she said, "the best way is to allow them to let you in. Am I right?"

"Yes," Enjolras said patiently, "but that's rather hard for a resistance group to accomplish. That's why we're-"

"I have connections," Jamie said. They turned the corner into another alleyway and she held the lamp up higher. There was a pattering of little feet in the distance. Rats, perhaps. "I'm sure you've guessed that I'm no common girl...my family's wealthy. My last name is known...if I give them that, they're sure to let me into the base to see someone."

"I see," Enjolras said thoughtfully. He had long suspected that Jamie was someone special, but she'd just confirmed it. This idea might have more merit than he'd suspected. "Continue."

"Security is high, I expect," she said. "You said so yourself just now. But...an innocent little girl concerned about the welfare of her family and wanting to help the Preventers in any way possible will be let in to talk to someone. Perhaps not someone very high up, but it's the place, not the position that matters."

"Very true," Enjolras said, waiting for her to go on, but she remained silent. He glanced over at her. In the flickering of the lamp he could see tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Jamie?"

"I was just thinking," she said in a low voice, "I never thought I'd be saying something like this. I...I was raised to believe that if I did what I was told, I'd have a safe, happy life. But things don't really turn out that way." Raising a tear-streaked face to look at him. "Do they, Enjolras?"

"What would your brother have said?" he returned. "You said he was a soldier. Do you think he regretted the choice he made?"

"I don't know," she said in a low voice. Beseeching. "What do you think? You were once a soldier too."

"I do regret that I ever was a soldier," he said. "But that was my choice. Some people..." he stopped. "I do not want to be the one to pass judgments on someone such as your brother, whom I have never met."

"It's all right," Jamie whispered. "James was...James was a good boy. But that doesn't mean he couldn't have made the wrong choice. We all make bad choices sometimes."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Then I'd say that he is blessed to have someone like you for a sister."

"It's not wrong, it is?" she said. "Revenge."

" 'Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.' Who said that?"

"John Fitzgerald Kennedy."

"I see you've done your homework," he said. "And I believe he was right. Look at the French Revolution, from which many of us draw our inspiration. The people wanted change, the government refused, and they burned the Bastille."

"Burning the Bastille...I suppose the Preventers Headquarters is our Bastille, of sorts?" Her eyes were shining again, and he could see the clockwork gears whirring inside her mind.

"Absolutely," he said. "We are the groundbreakers, the ones who will spearhead the movement. We might not be the ones who will accomplish the actual victory. We might not even be the ones who will convince the world to believe in our cause. But years later, people will look back at us and see that we were the beginning of something far greater than ourselves."

They turned another corner and he motioned for her to stop. He could see the puzzlement in her eyes; their cell group hideout was still some streets away, but her idea had given him an idea in turn, one that was so farfetched, so absurd, that it actually might work.

"Hold up the lantern a bit more," he said. She did without question, watched as he felt around on the ground. There it was. He fumbled in his pocket for the key, inserted it into the electronic padlock. For all his distaste of technology, electronics did have use sometimes. There was a whir and a click and the lock snapped open. Grasping the iron ring beside it, he pulled.

The trapdoor was old, but he had been down there just this morning before dawn to oil its hinges and it opened without a sound. He turned to her, saw her mouth open in a silent O and smiled.

"There's a ladder," he said. "Can you make it while holding the lantern?" She nodded wordlessly and he dropped lightly into the hole, letting his feet find the ladder rungs. "You'd better hurry then. We don't know who might be watching."

She nodded again and he began his descent, watching the light of the lantern as it flared, showing her climbing down with one hand and holding the light in the other.

The ladder was not too long and his feet touched ground in a few seconds. He waited for her to slide down next to him, then motioned for her to hold the lantern up again. She gasped.

It was a storeroom, one that the Milan resistance group had told him about and given him the key to yesterday. Apparently they'd had the same idea as he had, but for quite some period of time. They'd been amassing supplies here: food, water, explosives, weaponry, paper and candles. An army of their size could live down here quite happily for some time, but if the Preventers ever found out about this place, one well-placed match could send it up in flames.

"What is this place?" Jamie whispered in awe.

"That's for you to find out later," he said, and moved to the corner where he knew...there. The canister was small, but it was what inside that counted.

"Enjolras?"

"Do you know what this is, Jamie?"

She shook her head. The canister was translucent and she peered inside. "Looks like someone's lung."

He laughed. "It's pure sodium. In kerosene. Do you know what pure sodium is?"

Jamie looked uncertain. "We never learned that in science class. The only thing I know about sodium is that it's found in salt. Why?"

"Pure sodium," Enjolras said, putting the canister down, "is one of a rare breed of metal that is vigorously chemically reactive in its pure state as a solid. Quite frankly, it explodes when it comes into contact with water. Even very small quantities can do an effective job, if placed correctly."

Understanding dawned on her face, then confusion. "You want me to blow up something?"

"Correction," he said, holding up a finger. "I want you to place a distraction. The amount of this stuff I'm going to give you won't have the power to blow up a closet, but it can cause quite a bit of fireworks and noise."

He watched her work this over in her brain for a second. "I can do that," she said. Smiling. "It'll be fun."

"Good." He replaced the canister where he had found it, then turned to her. "You're willing to go into the Preventers Headquarters in place of the infiltration team."

"Yes."

"You're willing to put yourself in danger."

"Yes."

"You're willing to destroy government property."

"Hell, yes!"

He smiled. "Well then, Jamie. Here's what I want you to do."

 
Scene X: Deceptions of a False Dawn

 
As she rolled off the couch out of a sound sleep to land in an undignified pile on the floor, Une became aware of the cricks in her joints from sleeping there. The couch was a comfortable one, but fell shy of letting her stretch out fully on it by about six inches. She was forced to pull her legs up slightly to accommodate for that, an awkward position indeed.

She hadn't been home in ages. Catching much-needed rest at odd hours was the best she could to manage. Brown and Gils-Reve were doing their best to shoulder some of her load, but Brown had his own hands full with his own responsibilities, and Gils-Reve had only been recently promoted into his duties and hadn't yet developed the autonomy that only experience could teach.

Still, her sleep had been restless, and this was the second time in a week she'd fallen off the couch. She considered heading over to the infirmary to steal a proper bed for a moment, but a glance at the chronometer on the wall said she'd been asleep for five hours, her longest single stretch in weeks. Une looked around quickly and decided that after reading her daily reports, which would take a few hours, she'd grab a shower.

The doorchime sounded, and she called for the person to enter. She stretched for her toes, feeling the muscles in her back protest, as Gils Reve walked in, carrying some hard copies, a few disks, and a tray piled high with various breakfast foods. 'Good morning, ma'am," he said, setting the tray down on the table. "General Brown says that you should check out the top report. I had Steward McCreary make you something to eat, as well... you can munch while you review the latest."

She arched an eyebrow. "Yes, mother."

"Ma'am, in all seriousness, you have to take care of yourself. Without you...." he trailed off, letting her draw her own conclusions.

"Fine, fine!" she agreed hastily, not wanting to think. She was holding things together by her fingernails, and the last thing the Preventers needed was a change in leadership right before Quatre went on trial. She rose, her muscles still sore, and she made a mental resolution to find some time for the gym. She couldn't let herself get that out of shape- she didn't want to be a desk jockey entirely! Grabbing a slice of dry toast, she began to munch on it as she reviewed the briefing.

Brown had managed to find out that the target of the bombing had been a anti-Gundam cell. He wasn't sure where the hell the bomber had acquired nitroglycerin (a highly controlled substance), but Une had no doubt that it was a pilot- and most likely Trowa.

She remembered a conversation she'd had with Sally a while ago:

"I can't believe this. Duo's on the run, Quatre's in hiding, and we have no idea where the other three are."

"If you sit still long enough, you'll find out. Just wait for the largest explosions."

"Sally!"

"Yes?"

"That wasn't funny!" Une said.

"But it's the truth. Those three know one reaction to stress, and that is to blow up the cause of the stress. They're terrorists, and that's what they were trained for."

Sally's words had proven to be prophetic.

She flipped through the other reports, smiling slightly as she read how Heero's detox was coming along. "I still can't believe he ever got hooked in the first place," she murmured.

"Ma'am?"

"Nothing- just thinking out loud."

She started on her paperwork, giving commands to the specialized teams Sally had implemented. The teams were working out better then she had been expecting- there hadn't been a riot in almost a week. The Italian team had a lead on Barton, and that meant within days, she would most likely have a complete set of pilots.

Things were looking up, for a change.

A few hours passed as she sorted through her work; she spoke to Carrington and was relieved to hear that the Preventers' law team had great hopes for the Winner trial. She had two Gundams in her possession, Wufei seemed to be getting better-

Then all hell broke loose.

She heard the aides screaming as the klaxon sounded, the din going straight to her bones, causing her to grind her teeth. She rose halfway, her hand digging in her desk drawer for a gun. Why, oh why, had she gotten out of the habit of wearing one? she wondered, furiously thinking. And when has she become so lax? Treize's Lady never would have been caught so unawares!

One of the Preventers rushed into the room, a young woman whose cut forehead was bleeding profusely. Une was familiar with head wounds; she knew they bled a lot, but the young lieutenant, by her insignia, probably had a concussion at the very least. It was amazing she was still conscious.

"What's happening?" she demanded angrily.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" the wounded lieutenant said frantically, crying slightly. "Bombs are going off all over base!" The tears mixed with her blood, and she sat down, placing her head between her knees. Her hands tried to staunch the flow of both blood and tears, but succeeded at doing neither.

"Someone help her!" Une ordered. "I want all stations to report in on status! Gather the data!" she ordered, pointed at Gils-Reve, who stood stock-still, the pile of papers he had been carrying scattered at his feet where he had dropped them. She looked around, rapidly trying to figure out what to do next. "I need a lockdown on the War room, security clearance Alpha!" God, she had to keep them AWAY from the missile system controls - if they managed to get in there and somehow set them off she shuddered to think of-

Her hand fell on the gun, and the feel of the cool metal handle calmed her nerves. They were under attack, and she was the senior officer. Her mind went through proper procedure. She pulled the gun out of her drawer and rested it against her hip as she took a deep breath, then expelled it slowly. Sinking down into her seat, she held the all-frequencies button on her display, the one she had never used before. It would broadcast her voice across the base, and bring all units in the field in. "Attention all personnel. Evacuate the buildings immediately. We are under attack. Repeat, evacuate immediately. We are under attack. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill." To her utter amazement, she sounded calm and collected.

She released the switch, relieved to have taken care of that. Une hit the button that would bring Sally Po's personal communicator online. "Sally, get the civilians to the designated safe areas." Then she dialed for Li without waiting for an answer. "Li, find the pilots and put them under Level Ten security." She should understand that. She shut her eyes, trying to remember if Brown was on base, and if not, who his replacement was. "Who's in charge of security right now?" she demanded. Dammit, she should know- it was her responsibility to run the Preventers, for God's sake-

Adrenaline flowed through her veins as the sirens screamed. The door opened and she looked up, anticipating... something. To her surprise, a small squad thundered in, led by Captain Lopez, surprisingly. "Ma'am, it's time to evacuate. There's been explosions in this building," he said politely. "Your plane is being made ready."

"What?" she asked angrily.

"You're the ranking officer on-base. Regulations call for you to be evacuated. General Po, as your number two, is to remain on base."

She remembered writing those regulations. When New Edwards had ended up with all the Federation's brass being killed in one blow, it had made sense for her to rewrite evacuation procedures to separate the command team rather then put them all in one basket; getting the person in charge to safety was obviously the way to go, but she hadn't really realized that it would apply to HER. "Well, I'm overriding that!" She turned to call out more orders to her staff, but the Captain stopped her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said, not sounding at all regretful. Lopez didn't seem at all like the shy young Captain she was used to seeing trailing Brown like a shadow. This young man was confident, and not going to back down. "You don't have that authority." He signaled for two of the guards to go flank her. "Lieutenant Gils-Reve will be going with you. Major Li will stay here to be your liaison with General Po, General Brown is en route to Bern, and the remote post there is being activated as per standing procedure. We should have operations completely transferred over to there within six hours."

She nodded slowly, not liking it at all. "I don't want to run!" she declared.

"Ma'am, please... I can have the guards... assist me in removing you forcibly, but you don't want that anymore then I do."

Her eyes blazed. "I'll have your commission!" she snapped, feeling like Colonel Une for the first time in ages. She wasn't listening to some upstart!

"You do that if it makes you happy," he said coldly. "It's my duty, though, to get you to Bern."

The word "duty" hit her in the face like a glass of cold water. "I'm sorry," she said in a more normal voice. "You're right."

He nodded and pulled his weapon, heading toward the escape tunnels that ran from the main building to one of the hangers. Une followed, allowing herself to be surrounded by the guards, with a small contingent of her office staff to man the new command post.

It took only ten minutes to arrive, but the alarms were still piercing the air. She was hustled onto a shuttle and shivered as her staff nervously took seats around her. Gils-Reve opened a link to Li to start a quiet conversation as Li relayed reports, and soon they were taxiing down the flightline, which was still untouched by the destruction that was threatening the base. Beside her she could hear the sound of the Tauruses assigned to protect her as them hummed into life.

Then she was up in the air, gazing out the window at the Preventers Head Quarters, Geneva, mourning for her dream. She placed a hand against the reinforced glass, as though it could touch the smoke and devastation occurring below. Her almost overpowering desire was to turn away, but she forced herself to watch the final moments. "I'm sorry, Treize-sama..." she whispered. "I just couldn't do it right."

 
Scene XI: Just For A Moment, Burning Brightly

 
He had been going to meet Atsuki at the mess hall, was a half a block away when he'd heard the explosions.

Darkflight had been there half an hour early, had planned on maybe getting something to eat before she got there, but his encounter with the boy named Shinobu had ruined all his plans. There was something in the boy's face that had warned him - something that alerted his senses that the other boy was dangerous. He'd barely managed to storm out of there without hurting Shinobu, if that was even his real name.

He'd wandered aimlessly, trying to cool off. The clock in the belltower struck two-thirty and he'd suddenly remembered that Atsuki would probably be wondering where he was, that they'd arranged to meet around this time and that he was late. Taking his chances that the Shinobu boy would already have left the mess hall, he headed back in the direction he had come. The afternoon breeze was cool on his face and he felt his temper die down somewhat. He'd been incredibly rude back there, but there was something...

He shook his head. This wasn't the Breaks. If anything, this trek across Europe had taught him that he wasn't fit for survival in any place other than the armpit of humanity's existence, that he was no better than a common insect in the finer places of society. The Preventers' base was stifling in a way that the other places that they had stayed had never been - he hadn't liked those places, true, but they had still been open. Still been wide. The base was a box, a fenced-in compound offering no room to run, to escape, if he chose.

He needed the escape, even if it was only an illusion.

Pausing on the street corner, Darkflight looked both ways before cautiously stepping out into the street, was halfway across when something sounded in the near distance with a loud boom. Forgetting that he was in the middle of an intersection, he stopped, instinctively dropping into a low crouch, twisting around to study the horizon to pinpoint the source of the sound.

He was prepared when the second blast sounded, then a third and a fourth. His eyes narrowed. There was something strange going on. He could hear sirens in the distance, klaxons going off, shouts and gunfire. Smelled smoke on the breeze.

But this was the Preventers base. Nothing...they'd said nothing could get through here. Nothing.

The only thing that warned him was the blaring of a horn and a screech of tires and he didn't stop to look, simply rolled into a ball and dove out of the way of the oncoming military jeep. Strangely enough, there were no shouts directed at him in the wake of the roaring vehicle as it sped past him and turned the corner onto the next street and disappeared behind a building. Darkflight took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart, jumped to his feet and jogged to the safety of the sidewalk before another jeep could come out of nowhere.

There was another explosion. The ground shook slightly, and he looked around in alarm.

The thought hit him before he consciously was aware of it, and he was running towards the direction of the mess hall. Atsuki. She was probably waiting for him still...she was probably wondering where he was. He needed to get her out of there and to a safe place, even if it was a false alarm.

He didn't think it was a false alarm.

Someone screamed and he ducked behind a shrub as footsteps ran past. Cautiously, he peered over the top of the hedge to look. The two men who were running past had guns, but they didn't look like Preventers troops. They were dressed in civilian clothes, and one of them had a radio attached to his belt. Both of them had on sunglasses and scarves over their heads.

Assassins? Unlikely. From the way they moved, they were definitely untrained. Darkflight kept his hearing alert for any sound from behind him as he kept gazing over the hedge till the two men had vanished from sight. If not assassins...terrorists?

But how had mere terrorists managed to get on base? He'd seen the security they kept at the gates...not even a full scale army would have been able to breach those entrances.

The rattle of gunfire broke his chain of thought, and he winced as he heard the screams. He was used to the screams and used to death, but this was...he couldn't help but think that there were innocent people on this base who were in danger.

People like Atsuki.

The mess hall was just around the next bend and he sprinted for the doors in a low crouch, reached the relative safety of the entrance and peered inside. It was deserted. He tried the doors to find them locked.

They'd evacuated the place...good, but where had they taken the people? Come to think of it, the base looked curiously deserted. Their evacuation policy was evidently a good one, but that didn't help him at the moment. Gritting his teeth, he thought for a split second, then felt for the knife in his boot, verifying that it was still there.

He didn't like the Preventers. He didn't think that he would ever like the Preventers. But Wing trusted them...Wing was under their protection, and some of them were Wing's friends. And as the leader of Shadowwing, Darkflight was bound to help out his partner, whether he liked it or not. He could either find Atsuki or protect Wing and the Preventers, and Atsuki was most likely in good hands right now.

And if she wasn't...there was nothing he could do about that right now. She could take care of herself just as well as he.

Turning, he started swiftly in the direction of the shrieking sirens. No matter who these terrorists were, they would have a trained assassin to contend with soon enough, and he'd like to seen them try to stop him.

The call had come in over the radio intercom in his quarters and the first buzzing of the static before a call had jerked Heero awake, just like it used to in the old days when it had been just him and Doctor J. For a split second, he panicked, disoriented, not recognizing the room in which he'd woken up.

"Please remain calm and evacuate the building immediately. All combat and security personnel to stations. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill."

He glanced at the clock, noting that he'd only been asleep for about fifteen minutes. There were sirens wailing outside in the hallway and the sound of voices and pounding feet. Heero dropped lightly to the floor, threw on a shirt and a pair of loose workout shorts and headed towards the door when it registered.

The base was under attack.

The thought struck him as so ludicrous that he stopped in his tracks, not knowing whether to feel angry or amused. Angry because they'd told him he would be safe here, as if he needed their safety. Amused because for all their vaunted security and high-and-mighty military organization, they'd failed. As had White Fang before them. As had OZ before that and then the Federation before that. It was so pointless, really, the high ideals and precious, half-formed values that all of them professed to be fighting for.

He'd fought for those ideals once, before he'd realized that he was better off looking after himself.

There was an explosion and he dropped to the floor, not taking any chances. He didn't know where the attack was being centered, but it would seem logical that the attackers would move towards the center of the base, towards the Main Building. This group of buildings was out of the way, but a well-placed bomb's shockwave...

The windows rattled and the walls shook and he placed his hands on top of his head, wishing very much that he'd just stayed in the Breaks and let old memories die.

I know too much about you. Are you still going to kill me?

The stray thought floated through his mind and he froze where he lay as the shockwave passed. Relena. She would be in danger...

There was a moment of indecision as he stared at the door, knowing that if he left his room that way, there would be officials directing him to a proper bomb shelter, knew that he'd spend the rest of the day trapped between sweating bodies and feeling the deep vibrations of explosions above him. Knew that that wasn't what he wanted...that he was a trained soldier, no matter how he might feel about the Preventers, and knew that he needed to know if Relena was safe.

The indecision passed and he didn't even stop to think of how random the thought was, that he would be thinking of her at a time like this. Only knew that he had to find her. He threw open the curtains of the window, stared at it. It would probably be reinforced glass...

He snatched a sheet off the bed, wrapping his hand in it, drew back, and punched. The glass wavered but did not break. Heero gritted his teeth, backed away and went at the window at a run.

The window shattered inwards and he ducked his head, closing his eyes tightly and shielding himself as glass fragments showered the room. He felt a slight stinging in his right temple and knew that he'd been cut, but there were more important things to worry about at the moment. Dragging a chair to the window, he climbed up, threw one leg over, and jumped, landing in the grass behind the building.

So far, so good.

There were plumes of smoke rising up through the sky. Smoke and bursts of fire. Some of the smoke was too thick to be coming from anything else but a smoke bomb, but there were most likely real bombs too. The most likely culprit would be terrorists, and from his experience, terrorists usually didn't have anything more lethal than what could be cooked up in someone's garage, but sometimes even that was deadly. Take no chances was the first rule of the assassin's code.

Ironically, it wasn't the Breaks that had taught him that. He'd learned it from Doctor J.

He knew that Relena had scheduled a meeting today with some of the lower ranking Preventers officials, knew that she had been in the main building when the attack had hit. They had probably already evacuated her, but it was his best bet to go in that direction. Crouching down, he headed in that general direction, swiftly palming the small gun he kept hidden in the side of his boot. There was another one attached to his wrist inside his shirt sleeve, but that one was for emergencies only.

Though he didn't know what this was, if it wasn't an emergency.

The tall spire of the tower was visible between two of the outbuildings and he ran through the alley, gun at the ready, though the attack was most likely centered at the front. But one never knew. He'd been on terrorist missions before, and for a base of this size, the group would have to spread out. Even one or two members broken away from the main attack would do the trick, if they were planning to assassinate someone.

He suddenly hoped Lady Une had gotten away safely. He'd never gotten along well with her...they didn't see eye to eye on most issues, but as things stood, she was the last hope for peace for the world. Ironic as that seemed.

The siren coming from the main building was ear-splitting, audible even through the closed front doors, and he crouched behind the landscaping across the street, trying to determine if they were still evacuating or if everyone had already been taken to safety. He wasn't sure where the shelters were, but if the building was empty, it was a safe bet that Relena was in no immediate danger.

I wish I knew who these people were after...me? Une? Relena? The base in general...?

There were too many targets on one site...if word had leaked that the Gundam pilots were gathering here, every terrorist group on the planet would want a part in this. Heero narrowed his eyes, scanning the area, reaching for the knife he kept hidden, hung around his neck, in case he needed it.

His fingers met empty air.

His vision seemed to blur, suddenly, and he barely caught himself from falling, fighting to keep his balance. There was a roaring in his ears and he thought he heard someone screaming his name, except that it wasn't his name.

Wing...Wing...!

The dizziness passed and he took a deep breath, looking around as if realizing for the first time where he was, falling to his hands and knees.

I'm Heero Yuy. I'm Heero Yuy. I'm Heero Yuy.

That was the only thing he could believe right now. Shards of memory pounded at his brain and he pressed his hands to his head, trying to shut them out: bits and pieces of a girl's smile and twinkling stars and fire, and a little girl and her puppy.

A little girl and her-

A little girl and-

A little girl-

Relena!

Struggling to his feet, he stumbled out from behind the hedge. Focus. Relena. Focus. One thing at a time. Got to get to. Got to get to Re-

The sirens shut off suddenly and except for the far off bursts of gunfire, it was silent.

He reached the main door without incident. It was locked, as he had imagined, and had no entry control panel, but he'd been trained for this type of situation. The side door was right where it should be, towards the back of the base of the tower, accessed through a ramp built into the side of the building. This door had a control access panel. From there it was only three quick motions before he'd disabled the panel, two more before he'd rewired it, one touch of the button to open the door.

The hallway was carpeted, the lights dimmed, the flickering ghostly yellow tinge of emergency power lighting buzzing slightly in the unnatural quiet. He ought to be used to the silence, but somehow in here, in this building, it was unnerving. As if everyone was already dead and he was the only one left alive.

Relena, where are you?

He imagined her lying on the floor, blood pooling around her from a gunshot wound to her back. Or slumped against the wall, neck twisted at a crooked angle. Or still sitting in the conference room chair with the dead surrounding her and she at their head, sprawled silently with sightless eyes staring towards the door...

There was a whooshing sound from around the corner, and he flattened himself against the wall into a doorway, gun in hand. He caught a glimpse of black-garbed Preventers security guards in a tight ring, herding a small group of people around the bend. The muffled footfalls on the carpet were heavy, tense. He craned his neck, trying to see who was in the middle of that tight huddle, trying to catch a glimpse of blond hair.

"Let me go!"

The voice was that of a young man, obviously angry, obviously restrained. Heero frowned, took a step forward towards the voice, then stopped in his tracks as another voice, female, spoke up.

"Chris, I really don't have time to argue with you right now. Political views are political views, but your life is in danger! I won't be responsible for the death of a civilian under my supervision!"

That was her voice. He'd recognize it anywhere. He hesitated a moment more, then melted into the shadows of the wall again. She was here...she was protected...she was safe. He had the insane desire to rush out into the hall, to confront her, to ask her why? Why put yourself in danger? Why are you here, Relena?

But he already knew the answer to that.

"Let me go!" the boy snapped again, and there was a brief scuffle. "You lied to me! You said you'd let me talk to Une, but you lied!"

"I didn't-" Relena began, but the boy obviously wasn't waiting for a reply. There was another short scuffle, then the security chief shouted, "Grab him!"

Heero held the gun up, preparing for the worst, and for a moment it seemed that he'd actually need to use it. There was a grunt, a rapid tattoo of feet, Relena's voice shouting "Stop it! Chris, stop it!" and then the rapid pounding of feet turning into the hallway where he crouched. He stiffened, tried to make himself invisible against the doorway as a teenage boy darted past him. Heero caught a brief glimpse as he passed: longish brown hair, well-to-do civilian attire. The boy didn't even notice Heero but simply pounded down the hallway, pushed open the side door that the former pilot had just rewired, and disappeared through it.

"After him!" a male voice bellowed - one of the guards - but Relena snapped, "No, let him be."

"But Lady Relena, he-"

"He wanted to take care of himself," Relena said coldly. Heero had never heard her voice so frosty. She sounded foreign. "Now is his chance. I wash my hands of all responsibility of him."

"But he'll be killed!"

"He's a functional, capable, thinking human being. If he insists on disobeying my orders, I can't stop him - I'm the Queen of Cinq, not his mother!"

He lowered the gun cautiously, listening as the Preventer guard captain acquiesced, sounding slightly surly, waited for the footsteps to go past. They reached his hallway, paused, stopped.

She was looking down the hall. He hardly dared to move, aware that any motion would give him away. It was ridiculous to be worrying about this - he was a trained assassin - but her presence seemed to fill the area, a charisma she hadn't had before. When had she changed? Her eyes seemed bluer than he remembered. Suddenly it struck him how much like her brother she was beginning to look. And talk. And act.

"Lady?" The security captain sounded worried. "We need to get down the shelters before they close them..."

"It's nothing," she said, shaking her head. The footsteps faded.

He waited an extra two seconds before verifying that they weren't coming back and that there were no more people coming this way, then retraced his steps out the door in the direction that he'd seen the boy Chris take. From the looks of it, the kid was about to do something rash, and he had a feeling that more than brute force would be necessary to stop him.

Darkflight was in the middle of the firefight before he knew it. The entire south entrance to the base was on fire, he saw as he drew closer, with military jeeps filled with Preventers whizzing back and forth, firing cautiously. He didn't know if they were blanks or stun weapons, or if those were the real thing. He didn't think he wanted to know. There were bodies fallen along the road by the Personnel offices, mostly dressed in civilian clothes.

Terrorists, most likely. One of them had dropped his gun as he fell, and Darkflight bent to pick it up. Checking the cartridge, he found that it still had most of the rounds left in it. Good enough. He paused for a moment longer to look over the body. The man was dead.

The weapons then, were real.

The Preventers in the jeeps were yelling to one another, jabbering into radios, calling for reinforcements. There were woefully few of them, and even fewer of them on the ground, but Darkflight couldn't see that many opponents either. If they were lucky, this was all there was. If they were unlucky, the small number meant that some terrorists had managed to evade the containment ring and penetrate further into the base. The containment ring seemed to hold for now; barriers had been set up and security forces seemed to be holding the terrorists at bay.

A gaggle of frightened civilians passed - people who had been out on the street when the attack had started, he assumed, and he watched as several security personnel quickly moved out to them, pushing them away from the scene, towards safety.

The fighting seemed at a standstill, with only random shots exchanged from both sides. The smoke cloud from the smoke bombs had begun to dissipate, leaving only the smoke and fire from the real bombs and the gunfire. Darkflight had seen death before, but never in the Breaks had he seen a battle of this size and dimension. For a moment he seriously considered going back, hoping that it would blow over, but that would be the act of a coward and he was no coward.

He charged into the open, hearing shouts from all around him. Looking for something to move within the cloud of smoke. He was still looking for a target, squinting through the smoke, when someone charged out of the flames at him. Darkflight gave a shout, brought his gun up, pulled the trigger. The shot went wide, and he cursed, swinging the weapon around, but it was too late.

Before he had the chance to aim, the terrorist leaped. Darkflight watched in horror as the man spread his arms out wide, long, dark hair flying, and landed on top of a Preventers jeep carrying three machine-gun wielding airmen. Someone screamed.

There was a blinding explosion.

The shockwave knocked him back into the concrete and he heard something crack, felt a searing pain through his left arm. Through the involuntary tears of pain in his eyes, he pushed himself up and found himself staring at the place where the jeep used to be. The ground was charred, the vehicle a molten, twisted lump of metal. He groped with his right hand, trying to find a hold so he could stand, ignoring the pain in his arm, and his hand brushed something.

It was the stump of a leg, blown off the torso. The blood-soaked pants were Preventers uniform issue.

Darkflight tore his eyes away, fought down the rising bile in his throat and stood, wobbling. His arm hurt like hell, but he'd been injured worse before, and a broken arm wasn't anything he would die from. A few more civilians huddled past, their faces lost and bewildered, and he watched as a few security personnel detached from the group to escort them. His gaze went once more, unwillingly, to the ruined jeep.

Human bombs?

He'd heard of them...there had been talk in the Breaks around pints of alcohol and joints about people who were so desperate that they'd wire themselves as living bombs and jump onto targets. Like kamikazes, someone always said, and there would be nodding. As a Japanese colony, L1 still remembered its heritage. Darkflight had always doubted the tales with some part of his mind that told him they were too preposterous to be true. That no one would be that fanatically devoted.

He'd just been proven wrong.

Machine gun fire brought him out of his shock. Machine gun fire, and his name called frantically over the sound.

"Darkflight? Darkflight?"

He turned. There was another group of civilians in the distance hurrying past, accompanied by a single security guard. As he watched, a lone golden-haired figure broke from the group, running towards him. The guard waved frantically to her, shouted in English, "Come back, miss! Come back! Miss! Hey!"

"Darkflight!" the voice called, excitement and wobbly fear audible over the distance. "It IS you! Where did you go? I waited, but you didn't come!"

It was Atsuki.

Heero lost sight of Chris between two of the personnel buildings, saw the boy as he broke free of the confining structures, began running down the main avenue of the base towards the south entrance. There was a renewed burst of machine gun fire, and he cursed.

"Chris!" he yelled, doubling his pace, hoping to overtake the running boy. "Chris! Wait!"

The boy looked back, surprise on his face, as Heero caught up to him, then the recognition in his eyes was replaced by an ugly hatred. "It's you. Heero Yuy, isn't it? I should have known."

"Chris, come with me," Heero said urgently, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder and trying to drag him away from the entrance and the fighting. "It's not safe here. You could be killed..."

"You're just her lackey, aren't you?" Chris hissed, tearing his shoulder away before Heero could react. "I don't need you! I don't need any of you! You're all wrong, all of you. You can't help me! I was stupid to come here!"

"Wait!" Heero cried as Chris took off again, wondering what the hell the boy was planning. He didn't need this...he didn't need any more innocent people to die because of him. He could feel the burning in his veins, the headache coming on that meant it was getting to be time for his drug treatment.

There was another explosion and he ran towards the smoke, hoping that it wasn't Chris who had gotten hurt.

"Listen to me!" someone shouted over the gunfire, and with a sinking heart, he realized that Chris hadn't been hurt, but he was making himself into the perfect target.

"Get away from there, you idiot!" he bellowed, but the boy was too far away.

"You're all fighting for the wrong reason!" Chris shouted, charging into the fray and knocking aside a Preventers soldier who had been unlucky enough to be in his path. "Lay down your weapons! You don't need to fight!"

The gunfire faltered a bit, and Heero could see Chris clambering on top of a pile of rubble, waving his arms. "Don't fight! This is wrong! The pen is mightier than the sword! You don't need your weapons!"

Idiot...idiot...

He didn't hear the shot, but he saw when Chris fell, heard the gunfire begin anew. No one paid any attention to the boy tumbling down the pile of debris, and Heero sprinted forward just as Chris rolled onto the concrete.

He was still alive. There was blood at his temples...probably had a concussion, and his breathing was shallow. He needed to get this boy to a hospital.

"You damn fucking moron," Heero muttered as he jammed his gun back into his boot, picking up the unconscious form and slinging it across his shoulders. He had to hurry - he'd seen worse injured, but none of them had lived.

And then it happened.

"Darkflight!"

He whirled around, knowing that he knew that voice, knowing who he would see as he did so, the bright golden hair flying amidst the smoke, the dark-skinned boy that was running towards her, waving his arms frantically to keep her away.

Atsuki.

He'd forgotten about her. He'd been so busy trying to look for Relena...Relena...

Fragments of memories pounded through his blood.

Choose one. One or the other. You can't have both.

Heard himself saying, I haven't thought about Relena in years.

It all seemed far away and unimportant now. The Queen of Cinq, the wounded boy across his shoulders, the fighting. The only important thing was her, here and now, and he felt suddenly filled with an anger, a deep shame, a blind desire to run up to her and tell her that he was sorry, that this never should have happened and that he wished he had never met her, because that would have spared her so much.

"Atsuki!" he cried.

"Atsuki!" someone shouted, and Darkflight saw her stop in her tracks, whirl to find the sound of the voice.

He heard the gunshot crack.

He saw her body convulse like a whip, saw her jerk once, then collapse to the pavement face down.

The back of her dress was already soaked with blood.

"No..." he whispered, shaking her. "No. Atsuki, get up. Atsuki. Get up."

She didn't move. Her wide blue eyes were sightless, glassy. He desperately rolled her over on her back, thumping her heart. No response.

"Atsuki," he whispered. "Atsuki..."

"She's dead," said a voice from behind him.

Darkflight didn't bother to stand. He knew who it was who had called her name, knew who it was whom she'd paused for. He gently straightened her tangled limbs, her blood-soaked dress, the strands of her golden hair. Closed her eyes. She didn't look angry, or surprised, or vacant. There was a smile on her face.

She had died happy, running towards her friends.

"Yes, Wing," he said. "She's dead." Turning to face the former Gundam pilot, meeting those cold blue eyes with the coldness in his own.

"You killed her."

 
Scene XII: Lies, Damn Lies

 
As the world went up in flames around her, Ilene Keets laughed. It wasn't a nice laugh, or a particularly sane one, but rather a laugh that started in her toes and swelled through her entire body like tsunami, one that fell out of her small mouth, sounding impossibly huge.

Surprisngly, it had been easy to get onto base. The Keets were one of the Preventers' advocates in United America, and when their daughter requested an interview to discuss her concerns, a staff sergeant named Takamura granted her an in-person consultation. From the wearied look of his face on the vid, he'd been agreeing to many interviews and was tired of it all.

Her interview had been set for two. After reporting in to the visitors center, she had been shown to the main building where Takamura's office was. To her amusement, she passed through the security checks easily- obviously no one had anticipated sodium as a possible threat, and no one screened her handbag too thoroughly. The computer disk was scrutinized a little more carefully, scanned in the security's specialized virus detectors, but passed as well.

She was relieved. Part one of the plan had just been carried out. The scan had activated a virus which Enjolras had spent quite a bit on. In an hour, maybe a little more, it would short all of the base's electrical systems for a brief period of time- very brief, but long enough for Enjolras and the others to get on base and start wrecking havoc. She smiled innocently as she took it back, feeling slightly scornful of the Preventers who let her through.

Just because she looked like a cute little girl didn't mean she was one. Inside she felt old.

The airman who'd been her escort motioned for her to sit down. "Do you need any coffee? Tea?" she offered Ilene.

'No, thanks," Ilene said quietly, clutching her purse.

The airman offered a reassuring smile. "The Staff Sergeant isn't too scary. He'll listen to your concerns," she atempted to assure the shy young teen.

And dismiss them as quickly as possible, Ilene thought angrily. "Thanks," she said again.

It was ten minutes passed the time of her appointment when she was finally admitted. The older Asian man behind the desk looked the paper pusher he was, and Ilene was irrationally angered by the paternal smile he gave her. He wasn't being intentionally patronizing, but she felt his condescension.

"Miss Keets?" he said, rising to his feet and offering her his hand to shake.

She really didn't want to, and one of her mother's earlier lessons in putting people in their place came back to her. "It's Ms," she said, seating herself instead of shaking his hand. "It was kind of you to make the time for me," she said, speaking with aristocratic arrogance. United America might not have any titles, but wealth was a title of its own. She'd been brought up like a princess, and knew how to act the part. Normally she scorned her peers who put on airs, but those airs would gain respect that kindness would not.

"Are you aware that you're a missing person?" he asked immediately.

Ilene blinked slowly. The thought hadn't occurred to her, though it should have. "I should have contacted my family before I left, but I had extenuating circumstances." She pulled the infected disk out and handed it over. "On the same day Duo's name was released, I began to receive threats that made me fear for my life. I decided it would be best if I just... vanished for a while. I was lucky enough to have a friend with the ability to hide me... but I want to go home now." A pause for a slight sniff. "I miss my family." Very untrue- she and her parents hadn't been on good terms since James died.

Takamura nodded. "Have you called your parents?"

"I'm seventeen- I passed the age of my majority a year ago," Ilene said. "I don't want to worry them unneccessarily. On the disk you'll find copies of the threats that were sent to my private account. The fact that they were able to get my contact information makes me believe that it wasn't simply idle. And they are NASTY!" she whimpered melodramatically.

That part was true. Enjolras and a would-be writer who called herself Joyce had had a great time putting their considerable talents together to write the vilest threats they could think of. A few of them had even made her feel sick to her stomach, even though she knew they weren't real.

He gave her a reassuring smile. "We'll handle it, love," he said. "Your friend Duo arrived on base earlier, and if you want, we can quarter you near him."

Her eyes widened as her heartrate exploded. "Duo's here?" Dammit, they hadn't known that! They'd never get to him!

Takamura gave her brief jerk of his head which she supposed was a form of affirmation as he slid the disk into his terminal without scanning it, since he was aware it would have already be checked by security. She knew he'd find the files he was expecting, but the virus wouldn't infect his station- it required a virus scan to be initiated. "Um, while you look that over, can I go to the bathroom?" she asked.

"Down the hallway, second door to the right," Takamura said absentmindedly, already engrossed in the files.

She nodded and left, glancing at her wristwatch. About five minutes before the power went.... it should give her enough time to get there...

She entered the ladies' room and was relieved that no one was in there. Opening her purse up and she fished out her make-up- a bottle of concealer, a compact, and a bottle of lotion, and removed the seals. Inside, instead of the real make-up product, was sodium. Her countdown reached one minute, and she went to the toilet nearest the door, raised the lid, and threw them all in.

She knew the explosion was going to happen, but she was surprised at how deafening it was. She stumbled away from the bathroom, falling out into the hall with eyes streaming from the smoke. People were running towards her.

"What happened?" a young airman asked.

"I don't know! I was in there, and suddenly there's an explosion!" she sobbed.

He opened his mouth to ask another question, when the lights flickered, and went out. The virus had hit.

It took less then ten seconds for emergency power to come on, but it was enough. In the distance they heard the sound of different explosions, one coming after another, and emergency klaxon going off.

"Miss, get out of here- leave the building by the nearest exit, and someone will direct you to the emergency shelters."

Ilene nodded, wiped her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve, and left the way he told her.

She could see where they were motioning the civilians towards, but she had no intention of falling in. Enjolras had expressed doubt about how far his group would be able to penetrate, and now that she knew Duo was on base... but how to find him?

"Miss?" A young Preventers security guard said, getting her attention. "Are you ok?"

An idea came to her, a clever one. She threw herself at him, hugging him tightly, pretending to have hysterics. "I'm lost! I was suppose to be meeting my friend Duo... and then there's these explosions, and noise, and fire and smoke!" she said.

The agent was a novice. Had he been experienced, he would have wondered more about why this young girl was wandering unaccompanied on base, particularly during an obvious terrorist attack. Had he been experienced, he would have wondered why she happened to be an acquaintance of a Gundam pilot. Had he.... but he was not. He was barely six months into his term of service. "I believe that the he's in the VOQ... I'll help you there- it's not far."

She nodded, sniffling a little dramatically, and gave him a girlish smile, the one that had made many boys melt for her in the past. "Thank you!" she said, transferring her grip to his right arm- a grip that would conveniently prevent him from grabbing his gun easily should he become wise to her motivations.

They made their way through the burning area, and no one stopped them. Around them was chaos as the smoke bombs kept going off and the sharp sounds of gunfire being exchanged in rapid volleys. The resistance cell hadn't penetrated that far into the compound, but it was only a matter of time. She hoped she'd be able to find Duo without accidentally getting shot by her own side.

He led her over the white paths, pass the mess hall and around a few buildings before entering the largest of a cluster of three buildings. "Here, somewhere... first floor, most likely."

Ilene sighed softly, wondering if she should regret what she was about to do. "You sure he's there?" she asked in her best little girl voice.

"That's where the VIPs are quartered," the guard said.

"Thanks!" she exclaimed, turning to give the blushing young man a hug. Then she kneed him in the groin, hard.

It was more through like then any skill that Ilene hit the young Preventer right. He hadn't been expecting an attack from the girl he'd been helping, hadn't been expecting such a young child to be a terrorist. But her knee caught him unawares, and he instinctively curled forward, bringing his face into reach of her fists. She drove her right one upwards the way the self-defense instructor had shown her, hoping to knock him out.

It killed him instead.

His nose shattered under her hand, the broken bone driving itself up and into his brain. Blood splattered and she winced. He had been nice... she hadn't wanted that to happen.

She watched as he crumpled to the ground. Ilene felt herself become light-headed, but her desire to find Duo overwhelmed any remorse. The guard had been a Preventer. He deserved to die. She knelt down beside the body and pulled the gun out, tucking it into her purse. She didn't need to be stopped now, a civilian carrying an unconcealed weapon in an area that was most likely restricted.

She paced towards the right wing, taking a gamble that he'd been housed with a view of the greens rather then facing the gym. She knew from experience that he was a light sleeper, and he most likely was still in the vicinity, waiting. He wouldn't risk his neck in the fray outside unless he had to.

To her surprise, he almost plowed her over, running in the direction she had come from. He didn't even look at her- no recognition showed on his face. That angered her.

"Duo Maxwell!" she shouted, his voice springing from her throat with astounding volume.

He turned, his braid whipping around after him at the sound of his name. "Ilene?" he asked incredulously.

Duo Maxwell had been sleeping when the alarm klaxons had sounded. The sound had driven him to his feet before he had completely awakened, the gun he had placed under his pillow cradled in his hands. His instincts kicked in, and a familiar scent drifted towards his heightened senses- smoke.

He shut his eyes for a second, visualizing the layout of the Preventer Base. He hadn't seen much, but what he knew told him that the smoke was coming primarily from the south. He could imagine what was happening outside- people panicking in the orderly fashion only military life could impart, the civilians who were on base for some reason or other screaming and panicking in a not so controlled manner, fire raging and gunshots being exchanged.

In other words, an attack.

Une's voice came out over the communication unit in his room. "Attention all personnel. Evacuate the buildings immediately. We are under attack. Repeat, evacuate immediately. We are under attack. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill." She sounded calm and collected, her voice hard with authority and the power of a person who was used to being obeyed.

I'd hate to be her right about now, he thought, and then was amused at himself. He had better-

His thoughts skidded to a halt as the images of Hilde, Shinobu and Helena surfaced in his mind. They were all on base somewhere.... Hilde had remained with the Gundams while he had taken a much-needed rest and would probably be all right, Shinobu had a gun and knew how to protect himself, but Helena would be a sitting duck in the chaos. He hoped that she was with Shinobu, but there was no telling.

He grabbed the first set of his clothes to come to hand, a pair of black jeans and an equally dark CyberSal shirt, and put them on, tossing his slightly undone braid over his shoulder. He hoped the color wasn't an omen- since the war, he preferred brighter colors. Swearing slightly to himself, he did up his boots, hoping that he'd have time to get out.

Going over to the window gave him a clear view of the carnage going on. From the south came explosions- the sound-proof windows kept the noise out, but the small rising plumes of smoke warned him of the danger. He swore, wondering where to go.

He opened his door to a hallway that was eerily lacking of other humans The emergency lights flickered in time to the siren and he shivered, feeling like he had just been cast in some ancient horror movie. He kept his hand on his gun, scanning. Check Helena and Shin's rooms, get them to safety.

They weren't there. At this time of day, the wing was empty, and no one seemed to remember that he was supposed to be there. He wondered where to go next.

Hilde- the Gundams? He couldn't find the others, and though the security around the hanger in which the Gundams were hidden would be the tightest possible, the invaders had already managed to get on base... and he couldn't trust anyone else with Deathscythe or Hilde... or Zero. He had promised Heero when he had accepted the knife so many months ago.

He dashed out in the hallway, sprinting for the exit. Without realizing it, he almost ran into a young woman going the other way. He assumed that she was looking for a friend, but he didn't have the time to be nice and apologize-

"Duo Maxwell!"

The voice was familiar- one he hadn't expected to hear. He skidded to a stop, his braid whipping around after him as he turned at the sound of his name. "Ilene?"

She didn't look like the girl he knew. Gone were her trademark pigtails, replaced by a chic pageboy. Her expensive suit was plum-colored, one he remembered seeing her wear once before, when she had to give a presentation. Her face, though, had changed most. She didn't look like a cheerful child anymore.

"You remember," she said, taking a few steps towards him before stopping abruptly, an uncharacteristic smirk on her features.

"Ilene, where have you been?" he asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

There was something in her face that wasn't quite sane. Normally he'd race to her, grab her like he'd done at the Cliffside Massacre, but his instincts told him to be more cautious. He took a step towards her, and she almost snarled. "Stay back, you filthy liar!"

"I never lied to you!" he exclaimed. "I may run, I may hide, but I never lie!" His catchphrase of the past came to his lips almost without a thought.

"There is such a such of thing as a lie of omission!" she snarled angrily. "There may not be such a thing as absolute truth, but I've always believed that the search for it is important to the soul. Self-knowledge is important to help us define our souls, and help us learn which path to take at the next fork in the road of life!"

From her bag she produced a small black gun, standard Preventer issue. "My path has led me to you... you are my brother's murderer, and it's time I showed you the truth of that!"

He cursed mentally. He'd never figured that she'd been armed - how the hell had she gotten a gun onto the base? She pointed it at him, holding it like someone unused to weaponry - which was the truth. She'd had the basic riflery course that was part of Cliffside's gym course, but he knew that was pretty useless- and it hadn't been that long since they had last seen it other.

Her eyes looked liked two black holes, absorbing all the light without reflecting anything back. The emergency lights glinted off the gun, and he knew he wouldn't have time to retrieve his own weapon, even if he wanted to. But he didn't want to.

Ilene was a friend who was going through a hard time. It was his job to help her, make her see that things weren't absolute. In war, there was no black and white- just gray. Everything was shades of gray. "Ilene, I never was on the African continent during the war! I didn't go near that Academy!

The gun trembled slightly and he took a small step towards her. "It doesn't matter! You were a pilot! All of you are nothing but filthy murderers!"

Duo kept his voice low and soothing. "No, Ilene, we weren't. We were soldiers, just like your brother. We may have been on opposite sides during the war, but we had that in common." Another step, and Ilene's aim wavered even more, tears welling in her eyes. "A soldier knows that they may die." Two more steps.

It would take just two more steps.... two more steps to get close enough to disarm her. She was coming apart, and he could see it.

"Everyone lies!" she whispered.

"I don't," Duo said, shifting his weight slightly in case he had to knock her down.

"They LIE! There's no such thing as peace! People kill because they enjoy it!" she shrieked, raising the gun, preparing to shoot.

There was a loud crack that sounded like thunder had just been unchained. Duo tried to move but it was too late. Ilene staggered backwards, her body jerking unnaturally as it was hit by several bullets from directly behind Duo. Then she crumbled backwards, her body moving like a broken doll's.

"Ilene!" he cried helplessly, watching the girl fall. Her eyes were wide in shock, but she was already dead. The bullets had been placed with such accuracy that the girl had barely had time to realize her impending death. And the way the person had shot from behind him told him that the shooter obviously had confidence that he would hit only his target.

There were few people that could place bullets so close together- four bullets all locked within a three centimeters of each other. Most of them were probably on the Preventers' base, but one in particular immediately sprang to mind.

"Heero?" he whispered. Sally had said he was on base....

Out of the shadows stepped a handsome Gundam pilot, but not the one he had been expecting. Trowa Barton peered at him from under his signature hair, his face as expressionless as ever. "Hello, Duo," he said softly.

"Why?" he asked, practically pleading for an answer.

"She was threatening you. Therefore she had to be removed." The former Heavyarms pilot spoke in a soft voice, slightly regretful, but not the least apologectic. "This is war, Duo. You know that."

Duo walked over to where the girl had fallen. Kneeling down beside her, he stared into her face, committing it to memory. Her short violet hair had been mussed, and the crimson strain spread over her expensive suit like bad wine. Her face was covered with hair, and appeared to be slightly surprised. "No, Trowa," he said softly, "she didn't. The war is over - now it's time for the killing to stop." He reached out and shut the vacant eyes that glared accusingly at him. "Rest well, Ilene," he said. "I hope your brother is with you, where ever you are," he continued, brushing a kiss against her rapidly cooling cheek.

He rocked back on his heels, cradling his head in his hands. Another friend, gone... and it's my fault. I couldn't save her...

"Two fucking steps..." he whispered. "I was two damn steps too late. I could have disarmed her, Trowa."

"Could you?" Trowa asked. "I've found that fanatics are sometimes more dangerous than professional soldiers."

He blinked in surprise, feeling something moist slip down his face. He raised an incredulous hand over his cheek to touch the warmth.

Tears...

"She wasn't a fanatic...she was my friend."

 
END SAINAN NO KEKKA ACT VIII

Go to Kyoumei, part one (Poison: Heero)

 
Act VIII Part II | Act IX Part I | Back to Sainan no Kekka