Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Cat's Paw ❯ Chapter Seventeen: Hopefully plot hole free ( Chapter 17 )

Thank you Emily Hato (*plops chapter down on golden platter* here ya go!), Mama-sama, tokyo-rose, scarlettrose, tina (happy new home!), estrashtia (keep your chia pet away! ^_~), shinigami, and amalthea.

Cat's Paw 17

My consciousness creeps shamefacedly back from its break, having taken many more than the approved ten minutes to get itself together. After taking a nice leisurely stroll around the park, stopping to ogle the occasional wildflower along the way, it finally made its way to 7-11 and purchased its frozen treat. Yes, it has indeed had its Slurpee, as is evidenced by the pounding headache I have. My neck is sore and aching, too. They're throbbing together, pulsating up and down with the enthusiasm of a cheerleader at a championship game. Brain freeze and pom poms. What more could a guy ask for?

I hear papers shuffling and low murmurs nearby. It sounds like two women. The two women sound like Hilde and Relena. Now that's odd. Why are they here? I should ask them. I beckon to my consciousness. It's been lingering just outside the shop door, reluctant to cross the threshold. Apparently it's been dealing with some nasty customers today. Well, there's no need to be afraid. Relena and Hilde do not bite. Well, Hilde probably does, but surely not with Relena around. Come closer, my friend. It does and the Hilde-voice gets louder.

"His eyes are fluttering. Relena, put the papers away! He could be waking up! Is he waking up? What's happening? Quatre, get your ass over here and make sure he's okay! He could be having a seizure or something!"

"I don't think that's likely, Miss Schbeiker." That was a Quatre-voice. But he's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be at home. He's in trouble. Maybe he's out of trouble now. Good for him!

Consciousness takes down the little break sign and ties its apron back on, stepping behind the register once again. He's open and ready for business.

"I told you to call me Hilde!" the Hilde-voice snaps. Oh, gosh. Now Quatre's in trouble again.

"Sorry." The Quatre-voice is close to my bed and a warm hand touches my cold hand. I open my eyes and see Quatre smiling down at me. I smile back, a little woozy. He looks worried. I'd be worried, too, if I was in trouble with Hilde.

She doesn't sound happy at all. "And I also told you to quit apologizing all the time! Stop trying to take responsibility for everything! I could gouge my eyes out with this pen and you'd apologize for leaving it on the table where I could get to it!"

"Probably," my buddy chuckles, taking my hand in his and chafing it slightly to warm it up. It feels like he's going to rub my skin right off, but I don't have the heart to tell him to stop.

"So is he waking up?" Hilde demands from across the room somewhere.

"I'd say he is awake, Hilde. You've just been too noisy to notice." Relena speaks up for the first time. She's sitting in a ratty armchair not far away. She's dressed impeccably, as usual, and has her briefcase with her, also as usual. She could be a courier for top secret documents, the way she watches that thing. It's practically handcuffed to her wrist. Of course, Hilde's probably the one who owns the handcuffs.

Hilde glares at her and heads over to my bed. Unlike her friend, she's dressed in blue jeans and a sweatshirt. She doesn't even have any make-up on. "Shut up, Relena! Duo? Duo are you okay?"

"Hilde..." I smile. She looks better in casual clothes. Power suits don't fit her.

"Hey, he recognizes me!" She disguises her relief with about as much success as a emu in dark glasses trying to get into a "Wildebeast Only" polo club.

"Of course, I recog'ize you. 'M not deaf," I frown. Why does my voice sound funny? I'm doing my Ernie-with-throat-cancer impression again.

"Why is he slurring? Is it okay that he's doing that? Does he need a CAT scan? Is his throat okay? Maybe his larynx was bruised." Hilde is sure hyper today. I wish she'd calm down. She's confusing me. She keeps flitting from topic to topic like a gnat with ADD.

"Calm down. He just woke up. Give him a moment." Thank goodness for steady, reliable Quatre. Like a rock, that is my buddy. A Chevy pick-up truck in human form.

"Quatre? You said you were gonna stay 'way for a while, didn't you?" I'm concerned. Why is he here? Isn't he supposed to stay at home?

He smiles again. "It's all cleared up, kiddo. I'll fill you in on the details later. How are you feeling?"

I try to think. "Confused. This isn't my room. And why are Hilde and Relena here? They just visited."

"We were worried about you, you ass! When we saw what happened on the news, we came right over!" Hilde practically shouts. It hurts my head, but I don't complain. Hilde doesn't put up with whining. She should work at the DMV.

"What happened?" There's too much going in the room. I can't concentrate on anything and feel kind of nauseous and confused. If things don't slow down we're gonna review the many wonders of my last meal.

"Don't tell me you don't remember..." Hilde sounds aghast. "See, Quatre! I told you he had a concussion!"

"He doesn't have a concussion." He sounds exasperated. I guess Hilde has been giving him trouble. His patience is ready to snap like a dry and brittle twig.

"Then why can't he remember what happened?" she demands.

"Probably because you won't be quiet long enough for him to think."

"Be quiet, Relena!" Hilde spits. Relena sighs. Quatre glares. I look around in befuddlement. The room falls into momentary silence and I close my eyes and try to clear the fog. Why would I have a concussion? Why can't I think? Why do I hurt? Did I fall down?

Fall down... Yes, I fell down, indeed. But why?

I suddenly remember. "Where's Heero?!" I bark, sitting up and looking anxiously around the unfamiliar room. My brain panics and slams on the brakes like a scared woman on a the LA freeway. Are there any dark corners where he could be lurking? Any crevices that could be concealing his heinous self? Any objects that could be used as weapons in the near vicinity? Batten down the hatches! Call Scotland Yard!

"Calm down. He's gone. They took him away hours ago." Quatre speaks soothingly, rubbing my back. Why is he treating me like such a baby?

"Took him away? Where?" I hope it's someplace far, far away. No one tries to kill me and gets away with it! No one! At least no one without a hunting license.

Quatre looks wary. "We're... not allowed to say. But when you feel up to it, Detective Barton would like to have a word with you."

"Can he come now?"

"I'll go ask." Hilde runs out of the room.

"Can you guys stay?"

"That's up to him." Quatre and Relena exchange glances. I lean back against the pillows and wait for Barton to arrive.

It isn't long.

"Hello. I'm glad to see you're feeling--"

"Can they stay?" I greet him.

He smiles slightly, not missing a beat. He could be a drummer in a bebop jazz band. Hilde could lend him her beret. "I suppose there would be no harm if they stayed. They already know all the details, at any rate."

"The details?"

"Of the investigation on Heero Yuy. You had us worried there for a while. We were sure you were going to ruin the operation." Quatre abandons my bedside to Barton, going to sit with Hilde and Relena against the far wall. I feel vaguely abandoned as the lanky man folds himself into the chair.

"Me? How?"

"During our discussion the other day, your accusations were a bit close for comfort. I was almost certain we were going to have to abort the plan."

"What plan?"

"The plan to get Heero Yuy to confess, of course!" Hilde practically shouts, sounding frustrated. I wonder just how long they've been waiting to hear this conversation.

"Miss Schbeiker, I must insist that you remain quiet, or I'll be forced to ask you to leave."

"Sorry..."

"That's alright. Now, Duo, I know you haven't been able to watch the news lately, but do you recall about a month ago when a story ran about terrorist investigations?"

"I think so. They were getting close to catching one group, weren't they?"

"Correct. With the aid of several private detectives, the FBI had managed to track down several key leaders in one of the particularly active groups. They were extremely close to catching the terrorist head when their top investigator met an unfortunate accident and was killed. His name was Odin Lowe."

"But that's who Heero was with when..."

"Affirmative. Despite what I told you the other day, their relationship was indeed genuine. Heero was orphaned as a young child and his uncle took him in. However, his career as a private investigator left him little time to care for a young boy and he deposited Heero at the Camp Dover Military Training Academy as soon as he was old enough to qualify. He seldom visited the boy and contacted him erratically. Anyone who knew Lowe could see that while he loved his nephew, he didn't know how to express that emotion. Heero seemed to frustrate him immensely and to call their relationship cool would perhaps be an understatement. Lowe seemed particularly threatened by one of Heero's teachers, Dr J, who the boy obviously idolized. As Heero grew older, Lowe became more and more suspicious of Dr J. Almost two months ago, he became so distrustful of him that he began an investigation into his past... Are you getting all this? You look confused."

"Just trying to figure out who was telling the truth, when. Go ahead."

"Lowe was already working on the terrorist case and when he began to see parallels between Dr J's past actions and terrorist activity, he intensified his investigation. Just before the accident, he uncovered evidence -which I am not at liberty to discuss- that firmly pointed to Dr J as a terrorist leader. Lowe, worried for Heero's safety, asked permission to extricate his son from the school before J's arrest. He asked that he be given time to remove Heero from the premise before any capture attempts were made. He knew the boy worked often with J in the school's labs and was afraid that he would be killed or used as a hostage. He was granted permission and instructed to call the SWAT team as soon as he was clear. He immediately drove to Camp Dover. Heero was indeed working with J in the lab and Lowe managed to convince him to leave under the premise of getting some lunch and talking things out. The gate guards said they left at 11:23AM. By 11:30, their car was wrapped around a guardrail on the highway.

Barton sighs heavily. "The crash had us rather confused. It was clear from an examination of the car's mechanics that there had been no cause for a malfunction. Everything would have been in optimal working order. In addition, Lowe's post mortem examination determined his cause of death to be the crash itself, so that ruled out the possibility that he had a heart attack while driving and lost control. There was no reason for the crash to have occurred. This made us suspect foul play.

"We knew that Lowe had been working on the high profile terrorist investigation and that he had just had a break-through. Then the crash occurred and we feared the worst. We suspected that somehow a member of the terrorist group had discovered Lowe's position and managed to stow away in his car, causing the crash. However, DNA testing revealed no trace of a third party. Then we suspected that another car, driven by a terrorist, had tried to run Lowe off the road. No witness testimony supported this theory. We were once again at a loss.

"We began to suspect Heero when we found Lowe's cell phone in the backseat of the car. When we checked the call history, we discovered that a call had been placed immediately after the accident. The number dialed was that of Dr J's office. When the SWAT team arrived at Camp Dover half-an-hour after the call was made, Dr J was gone. His lab was in a state of disarray and witnesses said he departed in a great hurry, telling no one of his destination. No trace of him has been found since. The call had obviously been a warning and had allowed him to flee before the arrest could be made.

"We began to piece together a scenario. Lowe, thinking his nephew innocent to Dr J's actions, had told him what he discovered. Heero became angered and denied his teacher's involvement. They argued and when Lowe attempted to call the SWAT team, as instructed, Heero, enraged, made a grab for the cell phone. In the struggle that followed, Lowe lost control of the car and it crashed.

"When we examined Heero's school bag, we found further reason to suspect him. A notebook filled with what appeared to be physics equations turned out to actually contain bomb calculations. They were written in both Dr J's and Heero's handwriting. We also found business cards in his wallet for places that sell the supplies needed to make a car bomb. What appeared to be a Palm Pilot actually was a remote bomb trigger. In and of themselves, these items would not be enough to incriminate Heero. He truly might have been clueless to what they pertained. He might have assumed the equations were simply a part of his military training and that he was holding the business cards because Dr J had a penchant for losing things. As for the Palm Pilot, he might not have known what it really was. What password was input determined what function it performed. He might never have known it was anything more than it seemed.

"Here's where we blurred the rules a bit. We knew he was going to be in the hospital for some time, due to his injuries. While standard operating procedure dictates that he should have been put in a secure location, we decided to place him in a normal room under strict observation and see what happened. We needed some kind of solid evidence to determine his involvement or lack thereof. We suspected he might inadvertently slip up and say something. If he didn't, well, we'd just take him in for questioning when he was well enough and hope for the best. We planted the notebook, wallet, and Palm Pilot in the room in the hopes that he would talk about them and give us a clue to his connection to the terrorists.

"The police officers you saw so often were actually FBI agents and were as much for your protection as anything else. If Heero was capable of assaulting his own father, we didn't want to take any chances. It was risky, but we thought if we left him in a room with someone his age, he might say more than if placed with an adult. We bugged the room and set up a hidden camera. Then we stepped back and watched.

"When your lawyer friends here came for a visit, we thought the cover was blown. We knew they'd recognized Heero from news reports and when Ms. Darlian demanded your room be changed, we were certain the jig was up. However, we managed to convince both her and Ms. Schbeiker of your safety and they recognized the value of our investigation. They agreed to cooperate fully, mainly because of the chance to represent you in court if you wish to press charges against us for endangerment."

I knew his little story had been too freakin' weird to be true. How ironic is this, that the law enforcement lies more than the juvenile delinquent?

"So what happened? Why was Heero arrested? How did he prove he was involved?"

"Heero knew he was being investigated and why. He never said anything that indicated whether he knew what he was doing or not. He probably did, but we have no evidence as of yet. However, thanks to the strangling incident, we were able to arrest him for attempted murder and obstructing justice. He knew where Dr J went and yet never said a word, even when asked directly.

"I apologize for the assault. We didn't know he would become so incensed so quickly. I take all responsibility. You had no idea what you were saying and as for him... Well, he thought you were knowingly aiding our investigation. He seemed very betrayed and was apparently quite fond of you. He ranted and raved for some time after his arrest."

I shiver. So crazies know their own, after all. "So what happens now? Did you catch the terrorist guy?"

"He fled the country right after Heero called him. Unless we receive international support, it is unlikely we will procure his arrest. As for Heero himself, who knows? He'll go on trial and the jury will determine what happens.

"I'm sorry you had to be involved in all this, kid, but thanks for you help. We appreciate it."

"Wait. You said that this is an FBI case. Does that mean-"

"Special Agent Trowa Barton. Pleased to meet you," he smiles, flipping out a genuine FBI badge, just like on the X-Files. This guy could definitely give Mulder some tips on coolness factor. "Take care, kid." He rubs my head, grins, and turns to leave.

"You will be hearing from us," Relena warns him as he nears the door.

He pauses and smiles. "I wouldn't expect less. Good day."

-end chapter 17-

Zooie: PUT THEM AWAY!

Muse: *big chibi eyes* But...

Zooie: NOW!

Muse: *bursts into tears and flees, dragging plot holes along with it*

Zooie: *frantically rereading chapter* I swear, if I find any of those things in here....