Author: Karen, The Huntress
Pairings: 1+2, eventually 1x2
Rating: R
Warnings: Angst, language, violence, occasional humor.
Archive: DHML Archive
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Dreams Won't Let Go Part 1
Reconnoiter
Ten days after the Eve War former Gundam pilot, Heero Yuy took the position of Head of Security for Relena Peacecraft as she endeavored to restore her war-torn kingdom.
But Heero wanted to do more than guard Relena or watch over Colonial Ambassadors or sit at court listening to Generals and Cabinet Ministers bicker with numerous committees over the finer points of reunification.
Heero wante--no--needed to be actively involved in the day to day struggle to keep the bad guys at bay so he tendered his resignation and joined the recently established Preventer Intelligence Agency.
Although the employment situation was an odd alliance, Heero was pleasantly surprised at how easily he'd settled into his operative role. However, the most unanticipated aspect of the job was the friendship that developed between himself and the former Deathscythe pilot, Duo Maxwell.
During the war Heero had held a certain brand of admiration for the self-proclaimed God of Death. Even though Duo's style of combat was unorthodox and his cocky attitude often reckless, Heero respected his dedication and his selfless acts of heroism.
Now as Preventer agents, Heero and Duo shared more than mutual respect and a commitment to preserve the fragile truce, they both strived for a normal life, as normal as two warriors adrift in a sea of peace could hope for.
*********
The vidphone on Heero's desk buzzed. Flipping the activation switch Sally Po's face materialized on the screen. "Yuy come to my office."
"What's wrong, another Environmental Conference Diplomat get his ass out of joint over the seating arrangements?"
Commander Po leaned forward, her indigo eyes mirroring concern, "I'll explain when you get here." she replied then the screen went dark.
Heero didn't knock before entering the Commander's office. He found Po shuffling through a stack of papers. With a nod she motioned to a chair beside the desk.
Heero sat down, stretched out his lean legs and crossed his ankles. A glance at his watch then at the round wall clock, his patience grew thin as he thought about the many reports waiting on his desk.
Finally the Commander straightened with a heavy sigh. "Maxwell hasn't signed in."
Before Heero could respond she cont inued, "He was supposed to be back four hours ago. I tried the coded contact channel and his personal line. Nothing."
"Maybe he had to expand his search pattern and didn't have a chance to call in." Heero reasoned from experience concerning how unpredictable surveillance could be.
"Perhaps, but it's not like Maxwell to be late."
"Give me Duo's mission parameters and his last known location and I'll check it out."
"Report in as soon as you know something."
"You'll be the first to know."
*********
After a quick evaluation of Duo's assignment folder, Heero put on his brown uniform jacket to conceal the Beretta sitting snuggly in its shoulder harness, placed extra clips in his pocket then headed to the underground garage to go in search his tardy counterpart.
Late afternoon found the Preventer agent driving through the worse section of the city where garbage-strewn sidewalks sustained by all manner of street scum. Drug dealers peddled their poison without fear of reprisal. Pimps herded their whores in short skirts as they strutted their best selling points along avenues flanked by dilapidated buildings inhabited by junkies, homeless squatters and rats.
Agent Yuy stopped at the intersection that marked the invisible border between two rival gangs, the 7th Street Reapers and Satan's Soldiers.
When a band of ruffians wearing Reapers colors, lounging on a car's rusted shell and passing around a jug of cheap wine, took unwelcome notice of Heero's black Viper, he extracted the Beretta, rested it on his thigh and set a steely glare in his cobalt blue eyes.
The pistol's lethal fire power and Heero's "don't mess with me" demeanor put the street thugs on notice he wouldn't hesitate to shoot one or more of their members should they cross the line.
Midway down the block, Heero parked in a lot with weeds growing through cracked concrete and "guarded" by the twisted remnants of a chain link fence.
Heero activated the Viper's security system knowing the precautions would be pointless if someone really wanted the sleek sports car. He got out and leaned his hip against the door as he studied a site map he'd printed off the computer.
According to the map and Duo's assignment sheet, the stakeout should have been set up on the second story of an abandoned apartment complex across the street.
The three-story structure, brick facade crumbing and three quarters of the windows shattered, was just another scar on the desolate cityscape. 134 stenciled in faded paint above the front entrance confirmed Agent Yuy had located the correct building.
Removing boards nailed crossways over the weather-ravaged door was not practical easy. With shards of glass crunching under his boots, Heero walked around to the alley. The rear door's broken latch and splintered doorframe immediately activated Heero's instinctive radar. Beretta pressed to his chest in a ready position, he braced his shoulder against the graffiti highlighted wall and used his foot to further widen the crack.
Narrow wooden stairs climbed to the second floor. A bare light bulb hanging from a frayed cord swayed in the draft sucked through the opened door. The fact electricity was on in a deserted building set off another cautionary alarm in Heero's battle-honed sixth sense.
Hindered by wavy shadows cast by the bulb's poor illumination, the agent leaned forward, craned his neck and squinted to see above the paint worn railing. As the low-wattage influence ran out about halfway up, the space ahead became dimmer and the eerie images dancing with his ghostly tagalong retreated into the shadowy gloom.
Inching along one step at a time, Heero winced as dusty treads squeaked with each upward advance. If he'd counted on any measure of surprise the dry wood was not cooperating. Two more steps, he gazed down an equally murky vacant hall. Water stained wallpaper flapped in ratty ribbons, buffeted by the same chilly currents that had trailed him up the stairs.
The floor plan matched the proper coordinates, now Heero hoped his search wouldn't be fruitless.
"Duo where are you?" he whispered but the softly spoken words seemed to echo in the emptiness.
Heero paused to let his eyes adjust to the limited light and pick out movement. Likewise his ears strained to convey any sounds that would confirm he was on the right track.
Muffled male voices met Heero's intense concentration. Muscles tensed. Leveling the automatic, his outstretched arm became a natural extension of his body.
Exercising the utmost caution, the former Gundam pilot put all his senses and training on full alert. Stealthy strides carried Heero twenty or so feet finally stopping outside the desired door. At close range the voices were louder and more clearly understood.
"How much longer do we have to stay here?" a Hispanic accented voice wondered in a disgruntled tone.
There was a pause then the tapping of footsteps moving about. A husky baritone answered. "Largo said to wait that's all I know."
"Then he better get here soon 'cause I got better things to do than baby sit this smart-assed bastard."
More shuffling, shoes scraping across the floor then the husky voice spoke again, "Hey, have your manners improved yet?"
An answering growl and "Fuck you." immediately identified Duo as the smart-assed bastard.
"I don't think your manners have improved." the Latino man stated. There was a whoosh of air followed by a painful grunt. "If you want more of my boot in your gut keep it up."
This time, "Son of a bitch." drifted through the door in a winded wheeze as if Duo was trying to catch his breath.
"Watch it." the baritone warned. "The boss wants him alive."
"I ain't goin' to kill him but I don't care if he's barely breathin' when we carry him out of here." came the cryptic reply.
Calling for backup was considered but there was no way to figure how long before Largo would show up, probably accompanied by a hoard of henchmen.
"Two men." Heero calculated by the differing tones and accents. "Not bad odds if I have the element of surprise on my side." he reckoned. "Yeah, I might just be able to pull this off without getting me or Duo killed."
Holding the Beretta in a double-handed grip, Heero shifted his weight and planted his left foot for balance. Cocking back his right foot he aimed his boot at the door and took a deep breath.
"Hold on Duo."
TBC...
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