Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Burnout ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 9 )

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Chapter eight

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Warning sirens sounded deafeningly through out the base. Personnel ran around frantically.

"What's happened?" Quatre asked weakly from his bedroom doorway, as he struggled to stand on his unsteady feet, "What's going on?"

"Quatre!" Instructor H. called, coming up the hall, "You must leave, now! OZ has caught on to this place." He roughly shoved the boy back inside his room. Quatre leaned against a wall, his hand pressed against his side as the Dr. went around throwing the blonde's belongings into a duffle bag, "You must not be captured. . ." He held up a disk in front of the boy's face. "This is a highly encrypted, high security design for a new Gundam." The Dr. said, stuffing the item into the bag along with Quatre's clothes, "It was designed to replace Sandrock. It must not be compromised or all sacrifices will be for nothing."

"Yes, sir." Quatre acknowledged faintly, as the Dr. gripped his arm roughly and half dragged, half pushed him down the crowded corridor.

"We weren't going to send you to your family until next week." Instructor H. muttered, "Damn OZ."

"What about you?" Quatre asked as he was shoved into an escape pod.

"Don't worry about me, or anyone else here." The elder man frowned, "OZ is demanding surrender. We'll be fine. Just get yourself safely out of here and don't compromise that disk!"

Before the smaller boy could protest, his boss closed the hatch and had ejected the pod into space along with thirty others. Quatre was barely conscious; his wound had reopened and was bleeding profusely. OZ was firing on various pods, most of them exploding. However, the pod containing the Gundam pilot escaped unharmed.

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A young OZ pilot, Hilde Schubeicher, scanned her monitors and frowned at how many escape pods were actually being allowed to escape. She piloted her Space Leo and went after the pods. She fired at them, destroying two and disabling a third.

"Officer Hilde!" Her superior barked over the radio, "What the hell are you doing?"

"One of those pods may be occupied by a Gundam pilot." She pointed out, "We shouldn't be allowing them to escape!"

"Forget about it." Her boss ordered, "We have captured the scientist, our mission was successful. It's not like those pods are big enough for a Gundam, and with out the suit, the pilot is useless."

"Yes sir." Hilde nodded, maneuvering her suit back to her base.

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Hiiro handed his paper ID to the guard, who scrutinized every word, every detail. If the Japanese boy hadn't been trained to remain calm and have a level head, he would have been nervous with the amount time the guard was taking. Even so, he lightly fingered the gun he kept behind his back, tucked in his jeans waistband and hidden by his light blue turtleneck.

"Alright." The guard finally relented, sending the boy through customs. With a slight sigh of relief, Hiiro nodded, accepted his credentials back and continued through the line.

Once clear of the registration, Hiiro headed for the hotel that he had reserved a room in. He had his laptop tucked under his arm. This afternoon, he would go over the prison schematics and then tonight . . . well, Hiiro didn't really want to think about tonight.

He had not heard from Dr. J. since he had arrived in space. Assuming he had been captured, Hiiro was left on his own. "Follow your emotions. . ." He muttered to himself. `Great. What happens when you don't have any emotions?' He thought bitterly, `Or if your emotions conflict?' His every instinct was telling him that both Dr. J. and Duo were now liabilities and needed to be eliminated. But at the same time, he just wanted to rescue and protect Duo. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" He demanded of no one in particular, as he flopped onto his bed.

He was tired. `How long has it been since I last slept? Or ate for that matter?' he pondered. `A couple days at least. . .' He sighed deeply. `I need to go over those schematics. . .' he reminded himself. "Damn you, Duo." He scowled.

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He had just been thrown back into that dark, cold cell after another interrogation session. His body was broken and bleeding. He hurt in places that he didn't even know existed. And what was worse, the braided boy was beginning to feel his resolve wavering. He wasn't sure that he'd be able to keep his mouth shut for much longer. The next time they took him from this cell. . .

"Oi. . ." Duo groaned pitifully, "Hiiro's going to kill me. . ."

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The banged boy repressed a shudder as troops of OZ soldiers passed by him. He stood in the recruiting room with over five hundred other young teenagers. He had his falsified documents prepared for submission, should one of the soldiers choose him to inspect.

Even through the magnitude of his situation, eve through the impending danger of exposure, even through his life or death peril, Trowa found his thoughts drifting towards the small blond. It had been almost a month since he had last seen him and had yelled at him. `Why did I do that?' He silently asked himself. `You know that he never would have done something like that on his own accord. . .'

"Name?"

"Barton, Trowa, sir." He replied automatically, staring past the Lt. that had asked the question.

"Age?"

"Sixteen, sir." His green eyes never wavering, even as his thoughts turned else where. `Quatre will be alright. . .' He tried to reassure himself, `So focus on your mission, so you can see him again.'

"Colony of origin?"

"L 3." It was best if you could include as much truth in your lies, so that it was harder to trace. Any research mistakes found in his background would be chalked up to clerical errors.

"Any experiences with piloting?"

Trowa smirked inwardly to himself, `Yeah, I'm a Gundam pilot. . .' His face remained a passive mask, "I have piloted crop dusters and I have helped repair the outer hull of L 3 on two occasions."

"Colonel Une." The Lt. addressed his superior, "This young man qualifies."

The cold gaze of the colonel through her thick glasses sent shivers up and down the boy's spine. `So this is Colonel Une. . .' Trowa noted, memorizing her face.

"Bring him, Nickole." Une sneered, turning on her heel and marching out of the room.

"Come on." The dark haired soldier ordered, motioning the banged boy to follow him.

Trowa bent down, picked up his duffle bag and fell in line with twenty other candidates.

`Please be alright, Quatre. . .'

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Quatre awoke in a hospital. His entire body ached and the remnants of pain radiating from his chest reminded him of the deaths he felt before unconsciousness had graciously claimed him. He groaned slightly as he looked around.

Machines beeped and hummed through out the room. A young woman stood with her back towards him, writing on a clip board. She had shoulder length blonde hair, a shade darker then his own. As if sensing his eyes on her, she turned around. Blue-gray eyes stared at him. "So, you're awake." She commented, "It's about time. How do you feel?"

"Tired. . .sore. . ." He frowned slightly, his brow furrowing. "Where am I?"

"The hospital on L4." She said, a note of disapproval.

The blonde boy groaned, straining to sit up, "Oh, no. . .I gotta get out of here. . ."

"You're not going anywhere, at least not right now." She frowned gently pushing the boy back to the pillows, "I don't know what happened to you, but you were badly injured. You almost died."

"I need to get to the Resource satellite." Quatre protested, "Please, do you know where I can charter a shuttle?"

The doctor sighed, "I can get you the shuttle, just promise that you'll rest first? You can't make it to the satellite if you're dead."

"I promise." Quatre relaxed slightly, "I'm sorry to burden you like this."

Her demeanor became gentler. "It's alright." She said, with a small smile as she turned to leave. "Just rest."

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Explosions racked the entire facility. The angry shouts and cries of soldiers, as gun fire and grenades caught them off guard killing most, leaving some mangled and dying, rang loudly through the halls.

Duo forced his eyes open as the door to his cell was blown off. After his eyes adjusted to the sudden burst of blinding light that flooded the small dark room, the braided boy made out the tall lanky form of a teenage boy dressed in jeans and a light blue turtleneck. "H. . .Hiiro?" He asked disbelievingly as he struggled to sit up. "What. . .what are you doing here?"

Hiiro didn't answer. He just stared at the beaten, bloodied boy. Then he reached behind his back and pulled out his pistol. He aimed it at the American, uncertainly.

The braided boy blinked stunned and slightly confused. He had wanted to see Hiiro. He thought that the Japanese boy might be mad at his stupidity. He even thought that Hiiro might threaten to kill him. But he had kept his mouth shut. He hadn't uttered a single word and therefore he hadn't truly believed that Hiiro would actually carry through with the threat. "Hiiro?" He asked, a pained grin crossing his face as he strained to his feet, using the wall as a support. "So, you're going to kill me?" He smirked and spread his arms wide open, his eyes sliding closed. "Well go right on ahead!"

Hiiro frowned slightly in confusion. `He really wants me to . . .?' he questioned himself, before shaking his head slightly, the cold mask returning. Slowly, he raised the gun, aiming it at the braided boy's chest and removed the safety.

Duo's eyes flew wide open, "Y. . .You're really gonna do it! You're going to kill me?"

He looked surprised, and hurt and sad and. . .and. . . betrayed.

"If that's what you want." Hiiro replied simply, lowering his arm. Relief flooded over the braided American's face, followed by a wave of pain and discomfort. Hiiro frowned slightly at the poor shape the boy was in. "You're right hand is still good, right?" Warily the boy nodded as he caught the pistol Hiiro tossed him. "Good, come on."

"So where's your Gundam?" Duo asked, his eyes searching the halls for danger.

"I left it on earth." Hiiro replied, "It would stand out too much out here in space and I would end up being captured just like you did."

"Nani? So how do you expect us to get out of here?" Duo asked stumbling forward until Hiiro caught and supported him.

The dark haired boy shook his head. "I haven't thought that far ahead yet." The American gapped. "I came to kill you." Hiiro explained, "I hadn't thought about escaping."

"Great. . ." Duo mumbled.

Hiiro held up a grenade, pulling the pin. "If we fail to make it out of here, it'll be as simple as silencing the two of us." He threw the bomb down the hall and then took Duo the opposite way. Machine gun fire attacked them until Duo fired several rounds, killing the shooters. Hiiro launched another grenade and ran past the chaos its detonation ensued.

"Damn." Duo swore, half grinning, half grimacing, "Why is it the quiet guys who always do things the flashiest ways?"

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"Father, Quatre has returned to L4." The doctor said happily over the vid phone. "He wants to be taken to the resource satellite as soon as possible."

"Thank you Iria." The stern physique of Mr. Winner acknowledged. "When do you expect to arrive?"

"Hopefully, by tomorrow night." Iria smiled sadly, "He was badly injured somehow. I don't want to push him too much, too quickly."

"Please, keep me informed." Mr. Winner ordered.

"Of course, Father." The blonde young woman bowed her head slightly with respect before cutting transmissions. After taking a deep breath, she left her office and entered the room where her young blonde patient rested. Upon her entry, he looked up at her with pained aquamarine orbs. "Good news." She smiled, "I found a shuttle going to the Resource satellite tomorrow evening. You should be able to make the flight."

Quatre sighed with relief. "I thank you."

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To be continued. . .