[Momma, take this badge off of me. 'Cause I can't use it anymore
It's getting dark, too dark for me to see. Feels like I'm knocking on Heaven's door
Momma, put my guns in the ground. 'Cause I can't shoot them anymore
That long, black cloud is coming down. Feels like I'm knocking on Heaven's door]
--- Verses from 'Knocking On Heaven's Door' written by Bob Dylan performed by Jordis Unga
A Silver Lining Part 31
The screams finally ended.
Breathing a deep sigh of relief at that, Heero ran a hand through his sweat-dampened bangs. It had been more than an hour since Duo had been taken away for further... entertainment as their captors called it. There were statements made by the rebels watching them that they wanted to have a little fun before the two pilots were taken away.
Any other time that they were taken away, it was little more than a handful of guards having their chance in taking shots while the two agents were restrained. But this... that was different. Never before had either of them screamed as Duo had.
Every shrill, bloodcurdling cry sent a chill up Heero's spine as he held his breath force it to finally come to a stop. He would have given anything to not hear his best friend's screaming, to not have to imagine what ungodly things were being done to him to make him cry so. For the last hour, he silently prayed for it to end.
Now that those screams were finally at an end, the ex-Wing pilot held his breath in wondering whether that was a good thing or not.
Suddenly, the heavily guarded cell door was opened, casting blinding light into the nearly pitch room. Having to shield his eyes from the sharp brightness, Heero watched as his partner was pushed roughly into the room. As Duo stumbled wearily into the cell, the door was slammed closed again.
Before the braided Preventer collapsed to the ground, the last of his strength spent in his attempt to stay upright, Heero caught him up in his arms. Through his overwhelming concern for Duo, he somehow recognized that the injured young man was soaking wet. Carefully lowering his friend to sit up with his back to the nearest wall, the ex-Wing pilot filled with panic at how violently the other agent was trembling.
Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness with the aid of the thin line of light that came from beneath the door, Heero hissed at the sight of the deep, long red lines that marked the American's bare chest and arms. Those bruise and the fact that Duo was drenched from head to toe put the pieces of the puzzle together as to what had happened. Their captors were resorted to water electrocution for means of torture on him. That certainly explained the tremors that wracked through his partner.
Having witnessed such a means of torture before during the war, Heero cursed a million deaths to those who had delivered the treatment to his best friend. Not enough to kill, but enough to render one's body useless as shearing pain coursed through every nerve.
The thought of Duo lying in that tub with electro pulses charging through him was enough to make the Japanese agent sick to his stomach. In knowing the agony that the torment caused in his few encounters as a witness, it was a wonder to him that the American had not screamed louder than he had.
As the trembling continued, the Japanese pilot quickly recovered the remains of his partner's fleece to wrap it around the bare, wet shoulders along with his own shirt. Gently brushing back the wet bangs from his friend's face and holding him close with his other arm, Heero urged quietly, "Talk to me, Duo."
A small, broken whimper was his only response as the braided pilot only shook all the more. Closing his eyes, the ex-Wing pilot rested his head atop his friend's as he rocked him slowly. Some time passed before Duo was finally able to move his arms up to wrap tightly around his friend as he clung desperately.
When the American stopped shaking some time later, Heero anxiously checked his vitals to find that the other pilot had fallen asleep in his arms. Sighing deeply in relief, the Japanese Preventer closed his eyes and released a long sigh. Carefully, he lowered the both of them down to lie on the ground.
This had to come to end. They couldn't afford to wait and hope that the team they had worked with at the start of the mission would find and rescue them. His arms tightening around the pilot in his arms, Heero stared in the ceiling as he went through the layout of the building as he knew it from the inside when he was taken from the cell.
Slowly, but very surely, a plan started forming.
* * * * * *
Gathered around in the large living room of the safe house that had been their haven, Heero and Duo were surrounded by their friends with their heads down as everyone remained lost to their own thoughts. Standing in the center of their ring was a grim-faced Lady Une.
"Are you sure?" Wufei finally asked, the first to finally find their voice as he raised his head to the Commander.
Taking a deep breath, the young woman turned to him and nodded solemnly, "The coroner confirmed beyond the shadow of doubt that the remains belonged to Kent, and the countless aliases associated with him, earlier this morning."
Nearly a week prior, word came back from the recovery team on Colony D15. They found the hidden base that housed their prime link to the White out Organization had been blown apart from inside. In their search of the area, they removed the charred remains of a body that had been covered by the rubble. Those remains were transported to Preventer headquarters within hours to the coroner for examination while those in the safe house held their breaths for the results of the tests.
With a sigh, the tall Commander addressed the group gathered around her as she stated, "There was enough identification material on the disc that Angie has been deciphering to prove conclusively that the body was not a plant, as we had hoped."
Turning his lowered head away, Trowa hissed, "Goddamn it. They're always ten steps ahead of us. Just when we thought we were finally gaining on them, we fall back further than where we were last."
"I should have had that code broken sooner," Angie frowned deeply, biting her lip to fight the onslaught of tears at the thought of her friends that had died for nothing.
Quatre looked up to her and shook his head and reassured her, "Kent was dead killed before you even got back to the safe house with that data chip. He knew that he was in danger, or he would not have gone through such extremes to see that we didn't get our hands on it." The reality of that served to calm the dark-haired agent.
Sitting at the furthest corner of the room, Heero cast a worried look to the braided pilot beside him. With his arms wrapped around his abdomen, Duo's pale face just stared ahead with unfocused violet eyes. Gently wrapping an arm around his tense shoulders, the ex-Wing pilot leaned his head in to whisper in his ear, "We'll find them, Duo. This isn't over yet."
The fear in those violet eyes that turned to face him earlier made Heero's blood run cold. There was due cause for Duo to doubt their chances. As Trowa had mentioned, no matter how much ground they seemed to gain, they only found themselves in a worse position than before.
In reality, there was no telling how much longer their cat and mouse chase would continue in this fashion. More and more, their mouse seemed all too large to swallow.
Not even thinking of the others present, Heero just pulled Duo close and kissed his forehead tenderly, silently willing for his partner to remain strong. Now more than ever they couldn't afford to start falling apart. Quietly, the Japanese Preventer murmured in his best friend's ear, "Silver lining."
At the mention of the phrase that got him through the most difficult of times, Duo seemed to finally break through his distraught state. With a small smile, he reached up to squeeze Heero's hand with his own in his own show of appreciation while not trusting his voice at that moment. The ex-Wing pilot returned the smile and squeeze before they returned their attention to the group around them.
Clicking her tongue in thought, Anna turned to her dark-haired friend and asked, "Does that disk have anything else on it that could still help us, Angie?"
The young woman ran a hand through her short hair and replied, "There is a fair amount of encryption left to crack, but I've never encountered the kind of code that is securing the data. For the last few days, I've been a little... preoccupied while waiting on word regarding that body that was found."
At the news that perhaps they would be able to draw more from the disk that until then they had rendered useless, everyone seemed to come to life. With a wide smile, Anna raised her hand, "I'd be more than happy to help now that we know we need whatever else may be on that card. I haven't had a challenge at hacking in quite some time."
Beside the redheaded pilot, Trowa nodded, "I can be of assistance, as well. Between the three of us working together on that hopefully we'll be able to get something out of that disk that we can still use."
With a small smirk, Lady Une commented, "The three of you are the best I have in decoding. If you find anything on that disk that can be of use, I want to be informed immediately."
Scanning the assembled group, the Commander regained her serious composure and continued, "Meanwhile, Zechs, Noin and Sally will be returning later this evening. We still have the matter of another leak within the Preventers to worry about and sniffing them out with all of you here will be near impossible. I'm hoping that between the three of them, we'll be able to be tipped off by unusual behavior."
"I'd like to help in that search, if I may," a familiar voice broke in as all wide eyes turned to the entrance of the living room. His back leaning against the doorway, Scott shrugged, "Whoever this leak is, they do not know that I was considered and offered the chance to work with the White Out Organization."
With a raised eyebrow, Lady Une commented, "And that would also compromise your wish to remain safe, here. If you were to continue to work at headquarters, you would put yourself at risk should the leak find your sudden reappearance suspicious."
Scott merely smirked, "Commander, I believe that you would be able to come up with a convincing enough story for me. I had been off on a solo mission that only you were aware of." Turning to the other pilots, he frowned deeply, "My sitting around here and waiting for something to happen isn't going to make it happen any sooner."
Quatre and Relena briefly turned to each other with small smiles, the first to break through their utter shock over the young man's change in demeanor. It seemed that Angie's outburst days before had more of an effect than anyone realized. The young, dark-haired agent remained the most taken aback by Scott's request to help.
With a small smile, Lady Une nodded firmly, "Very well, Scott. You will report to headquarters every day as usual beginning tomorrow. I'm sure that Sally, Zechs and Noin will appreciate your assistance. To keep up with our story, I'll have you look through some reports that I have obtained as of late when you're not catching up with the other Preventers."
Returning the nod, the white-haired pilot replied, "Thank you, Commander." At that, he turned on his heels and stepped from the room.
As everyone turned to look at each other, Duo muttered, "Well shit." All around, heads nodded their agreement with the overall sentiment looming in the room, no one able to put it to better words than that.
* * * * * *
It had been a long time since he heard from Terry... It had been too long for that matter.
Tim was becoming restless.
In his rush to impress those in charge of White Out, he destroyed the home of those two ex-Gundam pilots. But not only had his targets managed to escape, but he scared all of them into hiding.
Had he not acted on his own, those pilots and their friends would never have known that there was still a breech of security within the Preventers and would remain sitting ducks. Terry made it perfectly clear how displeased he was by that.
That was strike one.
Next, there was Tim's firm belief that a Preventer by the name of Angie would know the whereabouts of their enemies. Passing the name and residence and young woman to Terry with the certainty that he had redeemed himself for his previous mistake, he soon found how wrong that assumption had been. His last talk with Terry- who went by Kent at the time - was less than pleasant to say the very least.
Not days later, words was all around the Earth, space and the Preventer headquarters of a mission where three agents were killed alongside ten known criminals at the scene. Obtaining more details on the deaths, Tim found that Angie's apartment had been burned to the ground, the same site of three killed. Despite the grisly scene, the young woman seemed to have vanished to fall off the face of the earth.
Strike two.
Every attempt that he had made only proved to set Terry and the organization back in their attempt to capture those pilots. Taking a sip from his glass of gin, Tim recalled his link's threat should anything else go wrong. But what if he had a change in heart and decided that two strikes were enough? That would certainly explain the lack of communication.
A chill ran up Tim's spine as a terrifying thought came to him. What if he was suddenly now a target in knowing too much and being inadequate and unreliable in the cause? Not wanting to dwell on that possibility, he threw back the remainder of his drink before recovering the tall bottle of alcohol for a refill.
When his vidphone rang, suddenly breaking through the still air and his running thoughts, he nearly jumped from his seat at his private bar. Holding his breath in anticipation, the tall agent went over to the living room table. Opening the monitor, he ran a hand through his crew cut head and sat before the screen.
His hand shaking, he pressed the 'Accept' button. Reminding himself to breathe as the image came in, he greeted, "Hello?" The unfamiliar face with shoulder-length, orange hair and hazel eyes made him blink his fuzzy vision and frown deeply, "Do I know you?"
The young woman smirked, "Not yet, Tim. But, I know quite a bit about you from Terry's records." At the wide eyes and slack jawed response, her deep voice chuckled darkly, "Sadly, Terry is no longer with us, so you are now my charge. You can refer to me as Iris."
Swallowing his suddenly dry throat as his grey eyes widened all the more, Tim stammered, "N-no longer with us? What happened?"
With a shrug and a dramatic sigh, Isis smirked, "Something that he shouldn't have. That is all that we need to know as far as that is concerned." Her smile faded with a grave seriousness in her eyes as she stated, "I managed to pull up some of Terry's old records and I must say that you've proven to be quite a handful."
His grey eyes narrowing, the young man retorted, "My intent in my actions was not to cause any harm to the White Out Organization. I only meant to prove myself." It was not until after his outburst that Tim's haze cleared enough for him to consider the reason for the call. "I-I am your charge now?" he gasped. "I still have another chance?"
Raising an orange eyebrow, Isis commented, "And for someone walking on thin ice such as yourself, I would say that speaking up to your commanding officer is not very wise."
"Forgive me," Tim quickly pleaded, bowing his head. His sluggish reactions to think things through before speaking made him admit aloud, "When I had not heard from Terry for over a week now, I had feared the worst for myself due to my errors."
Isis's hazel eyes narrowed on him as she replied, "Were I Terry, your second mistake would have been your last. However, we are in a position of having to count on you, seeing how you are the last leak we have within the Preventers."
Biting his lip, Tim quickly offered, "I can convince others to help us. If I managed to get more to help us within the agency, I would have made up for my previous misjudgments. I have friends that I know would be willing to listen to the organization's plans to remove the filth from society."
At that, Isis shook her head, "Best not to risk someone going and running to Lady Une should you talk to the wrong person. Were there any doubt that someone you wished to bring in, you would have to dispose of them, same as your friends that recruited you would have done if they thought you would side against them."
Tim blinked in shock at the thought of Brian, Sara or Mark killing him. While he had fought as a member of the White Fang during the war, the three OZ pilots had quickly become like a small family to him in their time as Preventers.
More than two years prior, he was thrilled when his three friends wished for him to be a part of their greater cause. Had he shown any resistance to their wish, would they have really killed him rather than risk him revealing the White Out Organization to Lady Une?
"No," Isis shook her head, breaking his thoughts. "No, this is much better this way, only having to worry about keeping tabs on you." Her eyes narrowing anew, she spoke slowly, "I want to make myself crystal clear. Should you disappoint me, I will not show you the same mercy that Terry had."
With a firm nod and with his head clearing at last, Tim reassured her, "Understood completely, madam. I will do all in my power to aid the organization's cause."
Her smirk returned in apparent satisfaction towards his subordination. Losing only a little of her edge but not an ounce of her seriousness, Isis began, "I do have a mission in the works for you that needs to be carried out. You know that Terry had a list of names and means of contact for those outside of the Preventers that he would use to serve as the muscle in some of our more vital tasks, correct?"
Terrorists. Hit men. Assassins. Ex-cons. Terry seemed to have a knack for getting a hold of such walks of life. Without hesitating, Tim nodded, "Yes, madam. I know that at any given time, he could have them mobilized within moments." Even as he was speaking, his eyes widened.
Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. Those bodies recovered at Angie's apartment had all been identified as known law offenders. So Terry had been the one that sent them. And he failed whatever it was he was hoping to achieve. Suddenly, Tim's throat was dry again.
At seeing the realization in her charges eyes, the corner of Isis's mouth tugged upward. Taking a deep breath, she informed, "We may have a situation on our hands here, but I will be contacting you as soon as I have all of the details.
"I have a list of my own that, if need be, I will be contacting. You will be in charge of assembling them and seeing that they carry out the task given. Expect another call from me within the next seventy-two hours."
"I will be waiting," Tim grinned smugly.
Just as she reached up to end the connection, Isis's hand paused as she smirked, "You know, Tim, you really should get some rest. You look like shit." And with those words, she ended the connection.
Staring at his reflection in the black monitor, Tim took account for the first time the dark circled under his eyes and his pale skin. When he thought about it, he could not recall the last time that he had a full night's sleep. Sighing deeply in ragged breaths, he washed his face with his shaking hands.
He had just been granted another lease on life.
Slowly rising on his wobbly legs, Tim walked over to the large window of his living room to watch the sunset. Recalling the conversation that he just took place, he could not help but dwell on the thought of the position his friends had put themselves in by their approaching him to join White Out.
Had he given them any reason to question his reaction to their recruiting, would they have killed him? Were there others that they had considered before Brian, Sara and Mark had approached him or were they really that lucky to pick out the right people to ask?
Somehow, Tim was having a hard time imagining any one of them killing him, even if they worried about his intentions. Rubbing his chin, he smirked to himself, "I wonder..."
* * * * * *
Early the following morning...
"My God," Trowa breathed, his emerald eyes widened on the screen before him. Both Anna and Angie rose from their own desks to peer over his shoulders. After working tirelessly the previous day through the night, it was more that welcoming to hear that someone was making progress in deciphering the data they had recovered.
Pointing to the few lines of code that he managed to crack, the tall pilot stated, "They're installing chips into a select few prisoners to transfer information from one dealer to the next. The people that they used for these installments don't even know that they were being used as messengers."
Anna gasped sharply, "There is no telling what they have on those chips. Do they have a list of people that they have used for those installations? Of the people that we managed to save from the few ships we intercepted, we might have one of them without knowing it."
Turning to face his lover, Trowa answered, "I only have a couple names for a start. It'll take some time to decode the entire list, even with the three of us working on it. Even then, I doubt that there are more than a handful of these carriers, so I wouldn't be surprised if we haven't rescued any of them yet." Sighing deeply, he rubbed his face and shrugged, "Still, we have something to go on for a change."
With a bright, relieved smile, Angie announced, "I'm going to call Lady Une to have the list of names of those prisoners that were recovered. We just might get lucky." Quickly, she turned and ran from the room.
Resting a hand on her lover's slumped shoulder, Anna smiled reassuringly, "It is a long shot, Trowa. But like you said, it's something. We can't afford to get discouraged just because we've run into a few brick walls." Slowly raising his head, Trowa gave her a genuine smile, unable to really put to words what the encouragement at that time.
Her long braid of red hair swinging as she folded her arms, she winked, "One of these times, we're going to find a big enough sledge hammer to break our way through." With that, she went over to her station to network with the tall pilot's machine to see where he was hacking away at the encryption.
Still smiling as he watched her, Trowa shook his head. With a deep sigh, he turned back to his own screen and told himself, "Even if we don't have that, we can always try chiseling our way out." With his determination grown anew, his hands started flying over the keyboard.
* * * * * *
That afternoon...
Life certainly was much better now, even if it was a little lonely at times. The other children were nice and she had become friends with a few of them. From where three of her closest companions were playing at the orphanage swing set, one of the girls smiled and waved excitedly to her, "Rachel, we saved a swing for you! Come play with us!"
With a bright smile, the little brunette rose to her feet. Frowning deeply, she scratched at the itch in her right arm. Once the nagging itch passed, she ran towards her friends, shouting happily, "Be right there!"
TBC...
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