Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Revenge of the Heart ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing (much to my extreme displeasure), I use these characters without the permission of Bandai, Sunrise, and that other company that isn't important enough to remember. If I did own Gundam Wing I would not owe so much money to the University and all my credit cards would be paid off, if you haven't figured out by now that I'm broke, here is your clue to not sue me. That said, on to the story!! ^_^

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Revenge of the Heart

Chapter 3

Aislinn Kennedy stepped off the city transport shuttle and started on the near kilometer walk to her residence. She hugged her shoulder bag close to her body and looked with the usual disgust at the appearance of the streets that defined the neighborhood she and her family lived in. The windows broken out or boarded up in the run down and decaying buildings and trash filling the gutters and sides of the street. The pathetic homeless people sitting on the sidewalk that grabbed at her ankles and starred with pleading eyes as they begged for money. "Even if I had some to spare, do they honestly think I'd be stupid enough to carry it on me in cash?"

She sighed at the thought and focused her mind back on "The Gauntlet" as she referred to her daily walk home from her job as the library. She was nearing her apartment when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise and she broke out in gooseflesh all over. She slid her hand inside the shoulder bag to grip the handle of the TADS (Temporary Amnesia Defense System) gun. Never slowing her pace she walked cautiously forward. A scraggly orange cat that came yowling out the alley she was walking by signaled the approaching menace. As she passed a large man with a leather jacket and torn jeans stepped out of the alley to fall in step behind her. She could smell the strong odor of cigarette smoke and alcohol emanating from him as he closed the gap in between them. An instinct born form the years of living in the ghetto allowed her to sense when the man reached out an arm to grab her from behind. Aislinn fell to her knees pulling out the TADS gun from her bag as the mans arm sailed over her head. She brought up the weapon and placed it tight against his stomach and pulled the trigger elation flooding her when she heard the thugs low cry of pain as the needle penetrated his skin and the drug invaded his system. She pulled the gun away and rolled to the side before the bulky body slid unconscious to the ground. She got to her feet lightly while hitting the button that would reset the TADS just in case her would-be attacker had friends nearby. A quick scan of the street told her she was alone, for the time being. She leaned down to check the man's pulse just to be sure, when she found it beating steadily she sighed in relief, then turned to make a hasty retreat. TADS only real use was for this purpose, when the drug filled your system it blocked out all events in the previous half hour, roughly 15 minutes before you were shot and the 15 minutes after. Perfect for street thugs like him, when he woke up he wouldn't even remember her. Replacing the gun in her bag, she ran the remaining 3 blocks to her home.

"Home" was a compacted community apartment building that she swore was modeled from old time college dormitories. Her apartment was a two-room cube with a kitchen and a bathroom that she shared with her twin brother and sister. At the moment they were next door being supervised by her neighbor, Jack. She gave a short knock on the door and after a moment it was thrown open by a tall, heavily built man, with white hair and beard, and twinkling blue eyes. Those eyes darkened however when Jack Wolfe looked over her appearance and dirt stains from when she had hit the pavement. "Been scrappin' again haven't you lassie?" His nickname for her held the note of a parent speaking down to an unruly child.

"Sorry Jack," she said and stepped past him into his crumbling apartment and sliding her bag off to rest on the floor. "I'm going to need some more ampules for the TADS."

"How many this time?" He asked.

"Just one, but I used over five last week." She replied sheepishly.

"Jack shook his head and sighed. "You gotta' get yourself outta' here girl. One day there's gonna' be too many for you to take down and then where will those kids be?"

"Right here safe and sound with you." She said smugly trying to lighten the situation with a touch of amusement.

"Like hell," he growled, "I can't stand those little monsters. Four hours a day with them is too much as it is. I don't even want to think about taking care of them till adulthood."

Aislinn laughed out loud at that. Despite his grizzled old widower appearance and speech the man had a heart of Jello when it came to children. When she had moved into the building five years ago with two screaming babies and no real idea of how to take care of them she had been at her wits end. She had been on the verge of doing the legal thing and turning herself and the twins over to an orphanage, when at 3:00 in the morning there had come a thundering on her door. She had answered it to find a scowling old man who to a short and exhausted 13 year-old, looked like a giant. "What the hell are you doing to those kids?" He had roared. "I can hear them right through 20 centimeters on concrete!!"

Upon this, he had shoved past her and into the twins' room. She had stayed rooted to the spot in shock until she had heard both infants' crying stop suddenly. Horrified visions of what he had just done to her helpless siblings had given her the strength to run into their room only to find him with her brother over his shoulder burping contentedly and her sister turned over in the crib with one of his large paws patting her back, both were mercifully silent. After both had been placed back in the crib the man had introduced himself as Jack Wolfe, former boxer, sailor, husband, and father.

Jack had moved into the neighborhood over 35 years ago when it had still been a decent place to live and raise a family. His first career had been in boxing and he had been on his way to a heavyweight champion trophy when he had met his wife, Melanie. Upon marriage she had made him give up the ring and gloves and join her fathers fishing business. Having always loved the sea and not overly fond of getting the tar smacked out of him for his dinner, he'd done as requested without too much protesting. Together they had shared over 20 years of happiness and one daughter. Then, 15 years ago, that same wife and daughter had been in a terrible car accident and died instantly. He had stayed on in the building with his memories and couldn't imagine living anywhere else; adapting to the neighborhoods decline into a ghetto and retiring had left him living simply and alone until Aislinn and the twins had moved in. The young girls obvious celtic heritage, combined with her recovering from injuries she suffered in the war and trying to raise her brother and sister on her own had reminded him of his daughter. When he learned that she couldn't afford to pay someone to take care of the twins while she was at work, Jack had quickly volunteered his services at no charge.

Her laugh had carried into the other room alerting the twins that she had come home and they came bounding into the kitchen area as fast as their legs could carry them. "Aisee!!" Screamed her brother, Aaron, and he wrapped his little arms around her legs.

"We saw dolphins! Uncle Jack took us to the ocean after school and we saw dolphins!" Her sister, Anne yelled jumping up and down in glee. Then the little girl and her brother proceeded to explain every detail of their day at the beach and swimming with the graceful animals. "Sounds like you had a wonderful time!" She beamed at them then turned to Jack, "Little brats huh?" and she smirked.

While he had always tried to make it seem as though he hated children and referred to the twins as "the brats" he loved them like they were the grandchildren he'd never had. Now that they were going to school every day he missed them and relished the time he got to spend with them in the hours between school letting out and Aislinn returning from work. He proved this over and over again by taking them to the ocean ten miles away from the neighborhood or the beautiful city park. She was grateful for this and both she and the old man knew that if it weren't for these inexpensive little excursions, the twins would never be able to get out of the ghetto and do something fun.

"Have you got all your stuff ready to go?" She asked. The twins answered by scampering back to Jack's living room and grabbed their bookbags and swimming suits. She handed her set of keys to Anne and told them to go on in the apartment and start their homework. She watched to make sure they unlocked and closed the door after they were inside. She frowned, irked as always that one had to supervise at all times to insure their family's safety at all times even when the were only going to a door less than a meter away. She sighed and stepped back into Jack's entranceway. She looked at him, her face was deadly serious. "You're sure that you still want to watch them this Saturday?" She asked.

"I wouldn't trust them with anyone else once the shit hits the fan." He answered, his own voice was grave.

"Nothing's going to happen Jack. I'm going in, taking care of it, and then getting the hell out."

"Anything can happen. And what about the security? You told me it's state of the art." He asked.

"Three years ago! They've come up with bigger, better systems since then, compared to those, this one is a walk in the park; it won't be any harder than breaking into one of these rat holes." She said and gestured towards the door lock on Jack's door.

"Besides, how do you think I know exactly where to go? I've slipped through it plenty of times already. How do you think I've been able to plan everything so well? There were some things that couldn't be learned through computer hacking, I had to get a feel for the land. Trust me, nothing will go wrong.

He took on that worried look again, "I don't know lassie, I don't understand why you're so damn set on killing this guy. It was a war, Aislinn. Lots of bad things happen in a war; hell, for that matter lots of bad thing happen in life. I was crushed when my wife and daughter were killed, but I didn't get a gun and hunt down the man who hit them. It wasn't even his fault. His car failed, it couldn't be helped. That's what happened to you. Honey, this guy was following orders. If you're gonna' take revenge on something, find the man who gave the orders!"

She jerked her head up, eyes flashing with anger. "He knew exactly what he was doing, believe me. If you knew what this guy was then and now you'd hold him just as guilty as I do." It was the umpteenth time she had explained this to him, she was sure. "Look, it doesn't matter, tomorrow he'll be dead and I can rest easier at night." She picked up her bag and started heading out the door.

"Christ lassie, I can't ever sway you once you've got your mind set on something." Jack shook his head sadly. "Why won't you at least tell me who it is?"

She looked over her shoulder and said, "You'll find out on the evening news." With that, she closed the door.

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She was dressed in a bright royal blue sweater that was 2 sizes too big and fell past her hips in length. Her boot cut style jeans were a trifle long and let a couple inches trail on the floor, barely revealing her small toes and bare feet. She wasn't very tall and looked too skinny, the oversized clothes made her look almost childlike though she was obviously a young woman. She was looking at him through terrified eyes that were the most beautiful bluish gray he had ever seen and were emphasized by long, dark lashes. Her round face was framed by flaming red curls that tumbled down her back and ended at her waist. He gazed at her wondering where she had come from. He looked around. They were in the green room of the Winner mansion. High ceilings and walls that were such a pale green as to only be a shade or two from white. There was forest green carpeting on the floor, heavy matching draperies on the huge windows and accenting the French doors that led to the balcony outside, and the same colors made up the satin bedspread, pillows and canopy on the king sized bed. The furniture: bed, huge wardrobe, tables, chairs, etc. was the most striking aspect of the room, they were the blackest ebony to be found. What it had cost 50 years ago was still a fortune today. He noticed that the room was lit only by a few candles placed on the tables and next to the bed, "Power must be out." He thought.

He looked back at the trembling girl. She was not a striking beauty but with her hair and eyes and full lips, she was certainly very pretty. She reminded him of the pictures he had seen of fairies in old-fashioned children's books. He held her frightened gaze and wondered, "What is she afraid of?" He received an answer when suddenly the room was brightly lit by a huge bolt of lightning followed by a crash of thunder that sounded as though it were tearing the sky apart. Her head snapped to the side and she looked out the huge window she was standing next to. He stepped closer to her and followed to were she was looking out at the ocean. "Must be one big storm, but not quite a hurricane." He thought thankfully as he observed the monstrous ten foot waves that were crashing onto the shore. Standing this close to her he could hear her whimpering.

"Hey, relax." He said and let one of his hands rest on her shoulder. "We're far away from the beach, none of those waves are going to find their way up here. Trust me, I've seen worse than this."

She looked at him a small frown creasing her brow as though she wasn't quite sure to believe him or not. "Don't worry, you're safe. But it's not the best idea to stand right in front of these windows. Sometimes the wind will break them, that's why the drapes need to be closed." He gently moved her to the side and reached for the edges of the thick fabric and pulled them closed, tying them with the hidden strings to keep them from separating just in case what he warned her of might happen. He checked the room to make sure that the same procedure had been executed to the over window dressings and was relieved to see that it was so.

He focused his attention back to the girl who in spite of his reassurances was still shaking with fear. His heart went out to her and he stepped forward. "It's going to be alright, you'll see." He smiled warmly and put his arms around her.

The girl stopped her quivering and snuggled closer to his body, her own arms snaking around his waist. He was a little surprised at that, he'd never seen this girl before in his life! But as he relaxed and held her close he didn't want to let go, for some reason she felt so right in his arms like that. Another peal of thunder shook the house and he realized they really oughtt to get to another room in the building. Loosening his hold on the mystery woman he said, "Come on. We should get to one of the inner rooms to be on the safe side. Lets go."

She jerked her head up from his chest and looked into his eyes. His expression of goodwill that had been on his face transformed into one of horror as he saw her eyes. They were cold and filled with anger. Her pretty face was etched with lines of sharp hatred and she opened her mouth to speak. One word came forth, "Murderer."

He was shocked. What was she talking about? He started to ask her when he felt a sudden pain explode in his back and reverberate throughout his entire body. He tried to scream but discovered he couldn't take a breath. He fell to his knees and looked at her through blue-green eyes filled with pain and horror as she stepped away and revealed her right hand covered in blood, his blood. He reached around to the point the agony was emanating from and his fingers touched the handle of a knife buried in his back to the hilt. Still unable to breathe, he realized she had hit something vital, a lung maybe. He tried to scream for help but no sound came. His head was spinning and he fell to the floor trying to crawl away. One of her small feet kicked him in the side and forced him to roll over onto his back making the blade go into his flesh even deeper. He felt a trickle of tears flow from each eye and he stared at her, silently pleading. She only stared at him, her face now devoid of any emotion as she dropped to her knees before him. She reached out her left, un-bloodied hand and cupped his cheek with it cocking her head to the side as though he were some interesting object to be studied. Then she leaned forward and with those soft, warm lips, gently kissed him, and his world went black.

A roar of thunder shook the house again and Quatre sat up screaming in his bed. He looked around wildly for the girl and feeling his back at the same time for the knife. When he realized that he was alone and there was no wound. He collapsed back to the mattress heaving. "It was a nightmare!" he said, trying to reassure himself. "It was only a nightmare."

Then he sat up and looked at the storm outside from the windows in his own room, exactly like the green room except it used a combination of light and dark blues and had dark oak furniture. He reached over and switched on the bedside lamp and swung his legs over the side of the bed to sit. The sudden rush of air that touched the sweat on his body made him shiver involuntarily. And he got up to go to the huge bathroom. He turned on the shower and sent a silent prayer that lightning would not strike the house and cause him to be electrocuted. He let the water cascade down his body and warm him as he leaned against the wall of the shower stall for support. He felt his breathing return to normal and when he was finished stepped out to dry off. Wrapping the towel around his hips he walked back into his room to hear someone knocking at the door.

"Master Quatre!! Master Quatre!! Are you alright? Please unlock the door!" Raschid's voice came through.

"Oh no." He said and hurried over to unlock the door to a very worried looking Raschid.

"Master Quatre, I heard you yelling. Is there anything wrong." He asked and tried to glance into the room.

"I'm fine Raschid, really. I just had a bad dream and it woke me. There's nothing to worry about." Quatre smiled at the tall man and let him in the room when he insisted he check just to make sure. Quatre shook his head as Raschid systematically checked in every imaginable place that an intruder could be lurking.

"Very well sorry to disturb you, do you want me to send one of the servants to put some fresh sheets on the bed before you retire again?"

"I'll be quite alright. I'll just sleep on the sofa, let everyone else sleep, they need it. Now go back to your own bed mother hen." He quipped good naturedly. Raschid frowned but left the room.

Quatre shut the door again and leaned against it. "Whew!" he sighed then went over to the chest of drawers to get a dry set of PJ bottoms and a soft blanket. He took one of the pillows from the bed and tossed it on the blue sofa that stood in the middle of the room beside a pair of bookcases crammed full, a low table and reading lamp. He laid the blanket down and pulled it over him sleeping bag style and tried to relax again.

He thought back to his nightmare. He was surprised to find that he remembered every detail compared to the bits and pieces that he usually did. He wondered at he girls quick change of emotions. She had looked so small and vulnerable one moment and the next she had been a heartless assassin. He remembered the look in her eyes as she had stabbed him and then later when she had kissed him, "How bizarre." He thought remembering all that had come from one person in only a few minutes. Then his mind wondered back to that kiss and how she had felt in his arms, it had felt so right. "But she killed me!" He remembered, "Or at least, tried to."

He shook his head to clear it and then concentrated on sleep. Listening to the steady sound of rain patter on the glass of the windows and the occasional roll of thunder he was soon drifting off to sleep. Then just as he was about to drift back into unconsciousness he was again revisited by a vision of bright red hair and bluish-gray eyes but this time murder was not in her mind, nor his.