Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Silent Revolution ❯ Chapter 4

Chapter Four - Missions II

 

Authors Notes: I was asked recently in a review if I knew how I would end this fic, that a yes or no would suffice. I would like to reassure you that not only have I planned the ending, but have also intended on another after-war sequel, and a few one-shots for various offshot pairings, mini plots and interlude-type things xD a few of these will be Nc17s, so links (as in: look on this site X under my username type of thing) to them.

 

Also-quick observation. More of you have signed up for alerts and favourted this than reviewed. Come on-it takes less than a minute! Please? For Duo? T-T

 

Chapter Four

 

Under the cover of darkness, three pilots silently swept through the forest, gliding through the trees under the dim glow of a crescent moon.

 

Hours earlier, they had arrived in the forest. They had followed a rough dirt0trail made more for hikers and cyclists rather than motorbikes, after a good hour of winding back roads to get that far from their safe house. It had taken them another two hours to make it to the designated stopping point.

 

None of them had questioned how the mad five had known that they would need the bikes ahead of time. Nor had they questioned where the three sleek, speedy machines had come from. They hadn't bothered looking for helmets, knowing that they would be more of a hindrance than a help if it came down to plan b- running the hell out of there for their lives. Safety first was not exactly a well-used motto let alone practice amongst those of their profession.

 

As one shadow slunk over the high, barbed-wire-topped mesh fence with ease from years of experience, two less concealed, bulky and slow in comparison figures made their way across the expanse of green between the trees and the edge of the compound. Both ducked behind a near-by bush, awaiting the signal.

 

The minutes ticked on, as they waited impatiently.

 

 

 

“What the hell is taking him so long?” Wufei snarled under his breath, agitation evident. Trowa, crouched beside him, shifted from one knee to the other.

 

“Perhaps we should not wait for him?” He suggested. They were all nervous, anxious. They couldn't afford any slip-ups—not now that their freedom was so close.

 

Meanwhile, miles away, little did they know that a similar argument was taking place.

 

“What if he's tripped an alarm? What if he's already been caught? Then what, hm? The bases' security will be on high-alert, that's what! We have to act now, don't you see?” Aqua-marine eyes pleaded with cobalt via their video communications link. His hands twitched, aching to get started. “I don't see why we didn't just blow the place up in the first place! The mission is to kill-“

 

“No” Heero cut him off, tone steely. “We follow the mission. 03 and 05 can retrieve the data and assassinate the targets by themselves if necessary. We will make up the difference if 02 does not plant the explosives.”

 

“But-“ He argues desperately. Every second wasted was a second less, a chance that his lover may be discovered. They could not afford a delay-any delay.

 

“That's final, 04! We wait” He knew the risks-they all knew the risks. However much he loved Wufei-needed him to go on living, he had to allow him to take the same risks, to live the life he wanted. He had to-lest he loose him.

 

 

 

“You may be right. On my count” Wufei conceded to Trowa's argument. “One, Two-“

 

“Uh, hey there? I'm a little bit lost. I'm so sure this isn't where Sister Leana told my class to meet up again. Could you maybe help me out?” An amiable, animated voice could be heard from where the two boys crouched. He sounded sheepish.

 

Violet-indigo eyes were widened, his posture, slouched. He reached up with one hand to rub the back of his head before reaching down to play with the end of his braid-a nervous gesture. His stance screamed harmless, innocence and embarrassment. He seemed like your average, slightly clumsy teenager, if the twigs in his hair and his apparent lostness were anything to go by.

 

 

“How the hell did you get in here?” The two guards manning the small entrance stood, their attention now caught. Two sets of hands fell to rest on the bust of their guns.

 

Duo shifted, hands clearly in front of him in full view, slouching further. He tried to make himself look smaller, less threatening. “I think I got separated from my tour-group. The Sisters got permission to show all of us a real live military place!” He tilted his head to one side, a small, excited grin on his lips, allowing his priests collar to be in full view of the harsh spotlights placed around the fences.

 

Immediately, they both seemed to relax. A teenager-a priest in training- a man of the cloth, was no threat. Even the enemy wouldn't dare disguise themselves as priests. That would just be wrong.

 

“Alright, I'll put a call through to the main office for you-“The soldier began with a lopsided smile and surprisingly understanding eyes. He himself was a father of three. His eldest- Erin, had just turned fifteen. He was always getting himself into such trouble with his absolutely hopeless sense of direction. This violet-eyes boy reminded him of his son too much for him to be wary of him.

 

He himself was a good father, and had been a good husband for years. He had always been there for his children. He had never missed a school play or a game, was always at the ready for homework and sick days. His wife- Maria, a dark-haired, azure-eyed French girl he had met when they were both still in their teens, had little to complain about. He was still tall, his physique-although not as muscular as it once was, was still slim and in good shape. He still had all of his own hair-as one would hope when still in their early thirties-and no wrinkles so to speak of, save a few laughter-lines around his mouth and eyes. He earned a decent wage and always helped out with the housework-despite his wife's' insistence that he rest after work.

 

 

That was, until the war. Until he had been shipped off into space, leaving his perfect little family behind in Sanq. Until news had reached his of his wife and middle child-May, six-`s deaths. An explosion, apparently. It had wiped out more than a three-block radius, according to the reports. They hadn't stood a chance in their comfortable two-story townhouse. Now his eldest, Erin, and his youngest-little Lizzie, barely two- had to live with his parents in England, where the fighting seemed to have affected the least.

 

 

His partner, seeing his ease around the boy, took on a more relaxed stance, hands falling away from his weapons. He leaned against the mesh fence, watching lazily as the other picked up the phone, fingers poised to type in the number.

 

He wasn't a bad man, either. Not that he was a saint or anything. No wife, no children, no relieves to speak of- an orphan since he was four. All he had to compare with the ideal of a family was the vague memories of a woman with hair like spun gold and a man with hair as black as night, smiling and laughing-a feeling of warmth coming from them.

 

He had joined the organisation the second that the news report had been shown all those years ago. The second Heero Yuy had been announced dead, assassinated. He knew that it was a tragedy. He knew the man would be mourned. He knew that he had been a great man. But he also knew that there would be those who wouldn't take it lying down. It would cause a war, which would cause deaths. Men, women, children, old and young, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, mothers and fathers. He hadn't had a purpose until that day. He knew that he wanted-no, that he had to do what he could to prevent a new, larger generation of children growing up without a parent to love and care for them. He knew what it was like to grow up like that. He didn't want it to happen again. Not if he could help prevent it from happening to just one child.

 

Violent-indigo orbs focused on them both, gaze unwavering. He couldn't afford to let his gaze flicker as two shadows approached rapidly. He couldn't give them a hint as to what would happen.

 

They both fell in unison; eyes wide, neither had a chance to make a sound as they slumped to the ground, unconscious.

 

“What took you so long, 02?” Trowa asked, as he quickly and methodically stripped one of the bodies of its uniforms, tying his hands to the fence shortly after. Neither should awaken anytime soon, by which time it should be too late. One never could be too careful, however.

 

Trowa asked first. He knew Wufei was too agitated. He would blow their cover faster than even Duo would manage if he were to let his ire be known at this point.

 

Duo watched with an air of detachment as the other two each donned the burgundy and white uniforms. Arms folded in front of his chest, he lent back against the mesh fence, one booted foot resting against the cool metal, knee bent.

 

“Guards. Two patrols-they seemed to be circling the perimeters.” He answered sharply. His eyes flitted across the darkness, scanning or any sign of movement. They were taking too long, far too long.

 

“And?” Wufei snapped as he did the last of his buttons up, permanent scowl fixed on his face.

 

“I dealt with it-and with security cameras which were not in the mission specs. I put them on a continuous loop of the last hour sans our presence. I-“

 

“Enough. 05, come-we have a mission to complete. 02-don't mess this up” Were Trowa's parting words to the braided pilot.

 

He gazed blankly at their retreating backs briefly, a hint of disbelief flickering within indigo depths. If Trowa doubted him…No. no time for such thoughts.

 

With a regretful glance down, he slunk silently into the shadows, away from the unconscious figures.

 

Neither would awaken in time to witness their own deaths, as so many others would be forced to do in the coming hours if everything went according to plan.

 

To be continued