Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Survival ❯ System Shock ( Chapter 34 )

System Shock

 

Let me also say it's hellaciously hard to write violent scenes from Relena's point of view, as in nearing impossible. Several scenes had to be aborted and done from a different point of view to make this chapter move at all. Apparently, she's still quite the pacifist at heart, no matter the changes.

 

Important note for chapter setting: For sake of your and my sanity both, I'm only roughly dividing base locations into three or four, maybe five sectors; keep in mind that the given areas are still massive areas, and just because someone might be in the same area as someone else certainly does not mean they will run into each other, it's only just this side of remote. The Brussels Compound is massive; the grounds themselves I think encompass a number of miles, and “Upper Levels” refers to the top ten or twelve stories, kind of thing.

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November 23rd 197 - Thursday - Brussels - Compound, Outer breach

Ten minutes earlier

 

Hayden Polanski stifled a groan as he came to, head spinning, as he remembered why he was under the console he normally sat at, wanting to do little more than throw up and hold his head…

 

Gee, Ma, he thought sarcastically. I guess this is what a concussion feels like…

 

He hadn't seen them coming on any of his views, and he had been paying attention, the princess was in residence for the night, she'd come in through his gate instead of the main. Either they had come through a section he wasn't responsible for, or it maybe started internally… he wasn't in charge of any views from deeper inside the compound… Then the guy who'd come in hadn't seemed all that out of place at first, beyond visitors not being too common on this shift, and he had something blue wrapped around his right arm, probably something from his kid, Hayden had figured…

 

Hadn't had much chance to do more than ask what he wanted before taking a goddamn baseball bat to the head…

 

…Hey, someone's standing over there.

 

Just one guy, from what he could tell… He grimaced. Probably the same fucker who brained my ass. He was fiddling with something, maybe, or…

 

…He was not talking on a cell phone. Of all the fucking-

 

Actually, that sounded more like orders being passed, or data reports coming back, maybe… Something about… doors? The doors were done? Way's clear?

 

Aw, shit, it did start all internal, and now they wanted to bring more people in otherwise, and that was what he was supposed to keep from happening.

 

Doing his best to keep quiet, Hayden reached for the little revolver he kept holstered just below his right knee… Major Kushov had said when he was finishing basic last summer that he'd always been told you should always carry more than one gun… people usually stopped looking after they got the first. He'd originally been kinda bummed out when all he got was guard duty at the safest base on the planet, but they'd said it was important, and he listened to advice, and hey, maybe this would be important…

 

Hayden was pretty far under the panel in the first place, but it seemed like the guy had completely forgotten about him too, not checking… he'd probably been put so far back so that anyone who came in would just figure it was the normal guy on duty who was just bored enough to call one of his friends… plenty of the guys did it, even if Hayden preferred a book with an egg timer to make sure he checked regularly if he got really into it. Either way, it wasn't hard to get his gun - he kept his uniform pants as baggy as he could without getting yelled at - and wriggle forward enough that he had a good aim… He'd been top of his class for marksmanship, and he could shoot from where he was fine, but he wanted to be able to counter the guy right after too…

 

Luck was finally with him as the guy ended his call and before he could start something else Hayden shot him once in the calf, then high in the right shoulder, and launching out from under the console made his head spin a bit but it wasn't so bad that he lost his balance and missed tackling the twice shot man.

 

“Boo, motherfucker,” he growled, pinning both of the guy's hands over his head with one hand and ignoring his screaming; his own head still hurt so much he wanted to shove it in a bucket of ice, the bastard had it coming, and besides, he wasn't going to be fighting back too hard while hurting like that… He searched his torso to find one gun, but didn't stop there, just grabbed the roll duct tape he kept in his bag under the desk by them and made him move his arms behind his back before wrapping his wrists in the stuff… and taping over the bullet hole with good tension too, before standing up to smack the yellow panic button.

 

He had always wanted to hit the ridiculously not red panic button… It sucked royally that now that he got to, he couldn't bother to think it was fun.

 

“Whatever you've got going is gonna go to hell now, asshole,” he assured the traitor as he sealed up his mouth and resumed searching him… and taping the other bullet hole; someone would want to question him later, right? Or even if they didn't, they might make him clean up the blood on the floor, so he was going to keep that to a minimum… Once he was sure the guy wasn't hiding any guns or anything in his pants - which wasn't as awkward as he thought it might be, from what he remembered of training - he did a couple wraps of tape around his thighs and around his calves and ankles too, once he'd taken his boots. Taped his arms to his chest too; this guy wasn't going to get loose, he didn't care if maybe it was overkill… and his mom was never talking him out of carrying a roll of duct tape everywhere now…

 

Turning back to the console, he grimaced even as he went through more of the protocol… if this has started inside, then who was controlling what anyway? Shit, what a mess… At least the right people had some idea of what was going down now, though…

 

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Brussels - Compound, Lower Levels - Late Night

Jake was quiet… He was quiet to the degree that she had learned to note that he had to be agitated beyond all measure, with the exception of his mask around Jack, but this… this was different somehow.

 

The blonde soldier was leading them through the labyrinth of corridors that was the belly of the Brussels compound with aplomb she found herself envying. He was as graceful as a cat, his usual saunter he used to cover that constant readiness stripped away entirely.

 

Jake muttered as a sort of habit, but in general she suspected because he enjoyed doing so, and had been rewarded for it this or that way in the past through the reactions of others. Mitchell had said that his reaction to go quiet when aggravated had been something Lucrezia Noin had asked him to do, to keep him from going from actually content to the mask of contentment that most would ever be able to tell apart from the true emotion, to… to snapping bones. After the altercation with Jack, it had begun to make sense, but this… what was this?

 

He frowned when the handle on the next door he had chosen didn't turn, fiddling with the handle a little before tilting his head and staring at the heavy metal door as though expecting it to talk to him, though she imagined really it was just that he was in deep thought. Again, the motion was somewhat feline, and distinctly predatory, she realized, trying not to flinch back as without warning he slammed his shoulder into it with all his weight behind it… and tilted his head again, his eyes narrowing.

 

“What is it?” she found herself asking without thinking. She was glad the tremor she felt in her limbs didn't transfer to her voice. He was silent for a moment more, pursing his lips, before moving back from the door and watching it again. “Jake?”

 

“Welded shut,” he returned in that monotone he had picked up when the signs of danger began. “Nothing else would hold it that solid. They know the layout.” He briskly stepped past them, gesturing for him to follow again. She grit her teeth and did just that, still trying to make sense of him.

 

She refused to acknowledge the fear that the idea of the door being welded shut brought on.

 

He wasn't threatening, per se, the same way he hadn't been while fighting Jack, but he certainly wasn't normal. There was one thought that kept returning to her the more she tried to puzzle him out, but while it held a certain logic, she didn't like it. It was as if the Jake that David had said was `the man he had become' was stripped away to the raw basics that had gotten him through the bizarre childhood he must have had, to be fully trained by the time he was nine. He was abrupt, and a little frightening, she supposed, but that deep concern for her and Dorothy was still there and…

 

Relena turned back to give Dorothy a reassuring smile. Their friend was… far more in control of his faculties than he had been with Jack, and really she knew that was enough. He was just… odd. Then again, Jake was always a bit odd. Instead of furious and not listening to reason this time, he was extremely logical, and just as protective, if completely lacking the polished social skills he quietly maneuvered everyone around him with.

 

It reminded her of something… but she couldn't remember what.

 

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Sahara Desert

Robby let out a happy sort of noise that made Razo just about jump out of his skin, turning to stare at the blonde man. Robby didn't… That was just frickin' weird. It wasn't like it had been loud, but… Robby just didn't make noises like that. He trusted his leader in a sort of way he would have thought impossible before Libra, but he knew his moods, which mostly varied between serious and sad and angry and world-weary. He'd seen the moments where he was verging on insanity too, though Razo had begun to realize that was actually, at least as far as their group concerned, a form of incredibly black humor that had been his way to survive the cages.

 

Once he'd begun to realize that, Robby had started to grin and wink at him in a more conspiratorial sort of way that had confirmed it, though he still wasn't sure how the man had realized he had put it together… the next time he had seen him after deciding that that was what it was, the blonde had looked curious before his brown eyes sparkled in an entirely terrifying fashion…

 

“What is it?” he found himself tentatively asking, wondering if this was some new level of humor or game Robby had decided to play with him as a distraction - which might actually be kinda fun - or what. Robby turned to blink at him in surprise for a moment, making Razo realize he'd just asked in French, before his leader grinned broadly and held up… a pack of cigarettes. Razo stared for a second before groaning. “Oh man, you have got to be kidding me…” He was seriously that happy over that? On some level, he appreciated that Robby apparently appreciated and trusted him enough to let more than his usual masks show around him - however uncomfortable it was when some of the other guys asked why the hell Robby was winking at him - but seriously… “I thought you quit.”

 

“I ran out,” the other man corrected cheerfully, shoving packets of the things into a shopping bag.

 

Shit, if he acted like this in front of any one of the other guys, they'd faint from shock. Of course, Robby wouldn't act like this in front of them; Razo couldn't decide if he was happy or not that apparently he was so blessed. “You know those are bad for you,” he argued instead, taking a gamble; he was pretty sure Robby's general rules didn't apply in moments like these, where he didn't have an image to uphold, but…

 

“Pros versus cons,” Robby returned easily, still stuffing the plastic bag full. Damn, that should cost a ton… Not that it mattered, with the store long abandoned. “They help,” the blonde continued, tying it off and grabbing a second bag; he was taking the entire stock, apparently. “They help more than anything, for me.”

 

Razo sighed, knowing that argument was useless, if he had decided that… They had all developed some habit or other - though some were notably more healthy and productive than others - to help cope, and while he obviously could manage without them, even Razo had to admit that the guy was a little more… functional, when he had access to nicotine. He locked himself away in the dark - usually with Cory for company - to stare off into space less often.

 

Letting out a little sigh of exasperation, he went to break open the case next to the one Robby had already gotten into, pulling out the patches for quitting. He doubted he could convince the man to quit at any point - and by the little noise the man made, he apparently found the idea incredibly amusing - but he could probably talk him into wearing one of the patches sometime instead of slaughtering his lungs on a regular basis. Making sure to keep his voice low, he asked, “When we get out… Will you quit?”

 

Robby grimaced, the humor gone. “I'll cut back then, but it just helps too much to completely abandon it.”

 

When he said it like that, it made Razo wonder if it really was just trauma and a coping mechanism, or something else entirely.

 

Robby was watching him closely now, so he just sighed, shaking his head a little as he grabbed a few more of the kits before heading back into the rest of the one-time gas station to see what else of use hadn't been scavenged yet.

 

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Brussels - Compound, Upper Levels

Lin stared in something close to amazement at the string of curses flying out of Mitchell's mouth, wondering how many languages half of it was… though he caught words here and there he recognized from watching too much anime as Japanese.

 

That had to be from knowing Jake so well; at this point, especially considering how close the two were, and he figured Mitchell was fluent in the language as well. Despite how much their commander seemed to hate his father, Lincoln could see that he embraced the Japanese culture, especially considering the flash of kanji he'd seen tattooed on the side of his torso, just under his armpit, when the guy was changing one day… He wouldn't be surprised if Mitchell had learned the language just to be able to converse with his friend in it periodically, with the way they were. He had seen them off to the side talking privately a few times, but from their lips all he could tell was that it definitely wasn't English.

 

Mitchell had snatched him out of bed, as he was the only one on day shift who had already gone to sleep and was easy to find, while Jerome and the rest of the normal night guard had been immediately sent to Mr. Peacecraft, as Relena was not present and could command any men she came across to watch her back; her own guard trying to find her was largely an act of futility at this point, with so many hostiles to account for and Colonel Miller likely trying to quietly evacuate her and Miss Catalonia.

 

He frowned a little, the inane thought process occurring probably only because he was in a life or death situation and shouldn't have been thinking about it. How did Miss Peacecraft start getting called Miss Relena? It had to have been some kind of pet name or joke, originally, and he realized he used it often enough too… Was she called that in the papers, during the war? he wondered. It seemed odd that he would accent the strangeness of that without even noticing… He was getting better at noticing things, the longer he worked under Jake and Mitchell, to the point that he was starting to look back at himself even just six months ago and wonder how he'd been so willfully blind.

 

This was hardly the time to be wondering about the changes in his perception, though, and he tried to focus. They were barricaded in a room several floors down from the Peacecraft siblings' suits, though still a number above the ground floor, and had been for several minutes now; there had been little option but to dash in and hold ground as the attackers finally showed themselves. Mitchell had gotten out his cell phone to call for help and so they wouldn't be here for too long hopefully… Lincoln was just glad the phones were working, unlike in Munich. Whoever these guys were, they weren't smart enough to use scramblers.

 

Of course, that hadn't helped as much as it should have, when they called Miller's phone only to hear it ring on the coffee table of Miss Relena's suite. Mitchell's frustration but dismissive attitude toward the action suggested that the man leaving his phone behind - or forgetting to use it, he reminded himself - was far from an isolated problem. Not that that was too surprising, considering how much of Jake's listed work history on the database was conducted under either extreme stealth interspersed with heavy violence, or relative to deep cover; a cell phone going off at the wrong time could well have been a death sentence, in years past.

 

The fact that it made sense, however, didn't change the fact that the man was alone with the princess and the Romefeller heir somewhere in the bowels of the building with entirely unknown and violent fighters rushing the base with no immediate means of communication. And considering the man's capabilities, it was unlikely they were going to find him close to the kitchens they had reportedly gone to, which was hard to say was either good or bad, as their enemies would have no idea either, but as they didn't know their goals for the night… They could just as easily walk into trouble as out of it.

 

It was too bad that Jake's computer had been in lockdown mode, preventing them from booting up the program for the princess's locator necklace. That probably would have calmed both Mitchell and the prince considerably, but there hadn't been time for Mitchell to try and sift through what might be the password, with the attack at who only knew what stage.

 

On the bright side, however, there were considerably worse people to fight back to back with than David Mitchell, even if he could be a little creepy. You just… had to ignore the connotations and focus on the words themselves. The darker-haired colonel verged on a berserker sort of fighting style, and while somewhat frightening, it was an advantage he wasn't going to question. He had always been told that he just needed to not take the either Miller or Mitchell's tone of voice into account when the stakes became high, and while he had no idea how Jake sounded, it was certainly sound advice for Mitchell.

 

Once they had back-up to get them out of this mess, they could head deeper into the complex… Mitchell, out of anyone, stood the best chance at finding Jake, and therefore Miss Relena. At the moment, it seemed as good an idea as any.

 

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Prague

Something was wrong… incredibly wrong… but I couldn't tell what.

 

Whatever it is isn't here, I decided bitterly, nodding curtly at the uncertain looks my men were casting me. And no wonder; I'd been stalking our underground base and all the area surrounding it for the past thirty minutes, and I was sure my mood showed. I was also sure that those who didn't remember had probably heard plenty of skewed of rumors about what had happened to the last moron who had caught me in this sort of mood.

 

Really, there was no comparison to be made between the two. I'd been upset both due to my own issues and the fact that that boy was a moron, with no concept of what it was we were trying to accomplish here. This wasn't about glory; our work probably would never really be noted well in history books, though we would succeed. This was about getting the dirty work done and keeping civilization from toppling the way it had in North Africa. There was a massive cult of a sort that had formed up that followed belief of kill or be killed, only the strongest are worth the price of life… It sent shivers up my spine, to think that it could have degraded that far. They kept their newly kidnapped members in a quarantine of cages where they had to fight and kill to survive until they'd been brainwashed with the indoctrination, then kept them in groups organized like a massive army, assigning them to different areas of the desert and oases to spread the infection and scrounge what they could to survive.

 

The only good news Xutao had managed to get was that the leaders of that abomination had recently, when he was down there, executed a number of squadrons; apparently even those twisted fuckers drew the line at cannibalism.

 

Sighing, I stalked into my quarters again and locked the door, throwing myself back on my bed. I was usually calmer than this, anymore… I had gotten past the vast majority of my issues if not all of them, but something was… It was like tension was just crawling under my skin, making me want to lash out.

 

I just wished I knew what was causing it… The best I could come up with was something a friend had said once, about sensing… emotions? Intentions? The conversation had been both short and incredibly vague, and I had largely dismissed it as something I couldn't understand despite the fact that he was obviously broaching the subject with me for a reason before we were interrupted by someone else coming in. I had already put every system and on duty personnel on high alert - and probably quite a few of those not on duty, storming around like I'd been - but I had no idea if it really had anything to do with here at all.

 

Hopefully something would explain my impromptu paranoia before I had to explain myself to Po. The last thing I wanted was for her to put me on some sort of sick leave for a week because she thought I was verging on a breakdown again.

 

I was done with that bullshit, at least.

 

Letting out an annoyed growl, I sprung to my feet and slammed back out of my room, the violent motion feeling good, but not helping me really calm down. I was almost positive now that it wasn't something coming here, so I didn't need to conserve all my strength… The gym sounded like a good idea. Maybe I'd even run into one or two of my wayward students and shoot down a few overconfidence problems… Xu lacked imagination that needed to be pounded in through experience, and while Hilde had that in spades, her foundations were still new, and her body could always use more conditioning, even with how far she'd come.

 

Those disparities was the original reason I'd welcomed Hilde's twisted little game that probably had them stalking each other across the base now, avoiding notice. In all fairness, I had expected Xutao to catch on more quickly than he had, but the blows to his pride of being taken down by his partner had likely been just as necessary in the end, and they were both improving now. For a while there, I had been worried that Sally would decide to go over my head and put a stop to it anyhow, and that just didn't present a good image to my men.

 

Pulling out my phone, I scrolled to Hilde's number first; I needed a damn distraction before I destroyed something.

 

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Brussels - Compound, Lower Levels

It was only another five minutes after they had found the first sealed door before yellow lights were exchanged for red, and the system moved to the emergency lighting instead of the normal bright illumination. The surreal quality of it all deepened with that even as adrenaline pumped harder through Relena's bloodstream and she couldn't help but remember the last time she'd been in a setting like this, on Libra before Heero evacuated her… He had been so brusque, but at the same time he had been trying so hard to make it all easier on her, and she had seen the deep concern and worry in his eyes, so very different from when they had first met on that beach the day she turned fifteen…

 

She forced herself out of her reverie, trying to focus on their surroundings; this was not the time to reminisce about Heero. There was fire somewhere now, and her heart refused to slow again at that despite her best efforts. The red lighting, while it would preserve night vision, was… incredibly traumatic, in so many ways, carried so much history. She remembered the approaching ambulance they had run from when her father was mortally wounded, because it would likely only put him in the hands of those that had organized the assassination, not that keeping him from them had saved him. She remembered discovering the underground base Noin had been working through in the Sanc palace when the attacks had been launched, furious beyond words that they had gone behind her back to defend with weaponry yet incredibly grateful for the fact that they cared, and were doing everything they could to keep the kingdom from falling apart… Not that it had worked. It had been there that Dorothy had convinced her to become Queen, as everything else collapsed around her, and she had accepted even though she knew she was stepping into a marionette's role… And even though she had turned the tables on Romefeller, it had been at Sanc when those lights began to truly mean that she was trapped. Libra had only driven the point home harder.

 

The fact that it was starting to look like the doors had been very systematically sealed to funnel all personnel into a select few pathways didn't help her rising panic. She didn't want to think about what had been done to the people who frequented those areas in order for them to get so much done before the alarms went off, but she was more grateful than she could fathom that they had decided to sidestep the main mess hall.

 

Jake was acting just as predatory now, but whatever this mental state was, she was positive now that it was stable. He was so unflappably calm and methodical it was surreal, and Dorothy was somehow following his example, coolly taking up their rear so she, the one with no training in fighting, was the most protected…

 

She hated feeling this helpless… This hopeless…

 

What was happening?

 

“We need to find an armory,” Jake decided suddenly. “We haven't run into anyone yet, but the direct routes in and out are gone. The only ones we haven't checked lead through areas that have to be funnel points, but those might be sealed as well… The only possible exception is our original route down, but there has to be movement that way now…” He looked straight into Relena's eyes, and she found herself wanting to shiver at the way they pierced. “Princess, I don't think we're leaving without a fight.”

 

Instead of being even more chilled at that, however something in her… exploded. “You gave me a foot-long knife because you didn't think we would see action, Jacob?” she snapped sarcastically, glaring at him. Not everyone could stay so calm…

 

He blinked at her, showcasing no emotion whatsoever. “A precaution,” he noted after a moment.

 

She gave him a steady look to show what she thought of that response… before shaking her head. At least he was talking again… his silence had unnerved her more than anything… He wasn't him, but he wasn't a force to be reckoned with, the way he had been a moment ago, somehow. He was… manageable, the same way he had been before he darted up to the rooftops in Munich, when she had ordered him to pursue the kidnappers.

 

He was following orders both then and when I told him not to kill Jack, right?

 

“Where's the nearest armory?” she asked him, forcing her tone to be brisk. He said they needed one, and she wasn't going to doubt his judgment as far as that went; she knew next to nothing about weaponry and what might be needed to defend themselves tonight, and she had the idea that part of his behavior earlier, upon finding themselves sealed in, was the fact that he didn't have a cushion of incendiary protection to fall back on.

 

At least, she remembered the amount of weaponry Duo had thought necessary to rescue Heero from that hospital, and she had read reports about the fights the boys had gotten into after Libra, and those were potentially the odds they were facing. He might be taking on the entirety of the enemy forces to get them to safety. That was a job that would make anyone edgy, especially when the priority was to protect a defenseless princess; at least Duo had been rescuing Heero, even if he had been injured. I am going to work on that once this is over with, she decided firmly. The damsel in distress role was getting old. The idea would have horrified her two years ago but now… now it would be foolish now not to learn just a little, for the same reasons Jake had seen fit to hand her a foot-long knife… Holding the thing really made her wish she knew how to handle a gun, instead; there was a little less chance of her hurting herself.

 

She hardly listened to the response he gave her… she hadn't actively realized that the different areas of the compound were listed by letters and numbers, and honestly had no idea where he meant. “What do we need to do to get there?” she asked instead of admitting her confusion. When he frowned, she added, “Or, what is closest to the route available to us?” He had been trying to lead them out of the base, every sealed door they had tried was away from the center… “Priority is not escape,” she informed him firmly.

 

He frowned, but she shook her head and overrode him before he could even open his mouth. “We have no guarantee the city's even safe.” She doubted that the attack was that widespread, whatever the motive, but it was possible that men were waiting outside, and she doubted that this strike could succeed. Honestly, they were safer in the compound even if it was under attack. He could keep her safe while on the premises. And… “We haven't seen anyone thus far; is there a chance we might be safest if we remain here?” She certainly wasn't interested in rushing out into any fighting if they didn't have to.

 

“This might be the by-product of funneling other areas,” Jake admitted coolly, his gaze piercing, “and therefore safe, but we don't know how they controlled the original public objectives; gas of some kind was likely involved, and we have no guarantee that there is a solid seal to keep any noxious chemicals contained, or that they are not about to gas this area as well at any time.”

 

Relena's stomach wrenched, hard. “And our original route down?”

 

He began walking quickly back in the direction of what she could only presume, at this point, was the kitchen. “It's likely the best option, now that escape routes are exhausted.”

 

Left with little choice, the two young women darted after the soldier.

 

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Amsterdam

Melissa sighed as she stepped out of the cold, back into the relative warmth of the first level of the den, glad to be off work, she just wanted to fall into her bed… and burst into giggles as she was practically swept off her feet from behind, grasping at the arms around her waist for balance. “You're home,” she greeted happily, twisting to grin up at her boyfriend. She could have sworn he'd grown again…

 

“Hey,” he returned happily, burying his nose in her hair, lips pressed to her scalp. “How was work?”

 

“Nothing worth talking about,” she dismissed, letting him fully take her weight, delighting in the way his arms were wrapped around her for a moment before pulling away and heading for the kitchen. She had planned on working at the shop that evening, but someone else had called in sick and her superior in the militia had asked if she could fill in tonight, so she'd left Amos in charge until closing. She'd only managed to run home to change into her uniform and make up two sandwiches before running back out the door, so now she was starving, only having scarfed one on the way there and just working off of the other for the whole ten hour shift… She had gum too, and that helped distract her from wanting something else to eat while she patrolled, but it was definitely time for dinner, now.

 

Kay followed her, and she grinned a bit at him as Amos and Nolan, sitting on the couch fiddling with a deck of cards, snorted in amusement or disgust; it was hard to tell, with fourteen-year-old boys. She honestly could care less if they didn't appreciate the sap; she knew Nolan didn't actually mind her relationship and she certainly appreciated a bit of unadulterated, stupidly cliché romance.

 

Ooh, soup… It had been left covered in one of the pots it had been made in on the stove, so anyone could come in and dish out a bowl to microwave; no one would put it away until brunch got started up, so it was there for anyone coming home late who had missed dinner, like her, or if they were heading out early and wanted something before they left. She turned to the cabinet, but Kay was already getting out two bowls. She frowned. “You haven't eaten yet?”

 

“I thought I'd wait for you,” he admitted, setting the bowls on the counter and grabbing the ladle. “I've only been home for maybe thirty or forty minutes anyway.”

 

“Such a gentleman,” she declared happily, wrapping her arms around him and resting her face against his back… he was just a little too tall for her to put her head on his shoulder.

 

“Gentleman?” he returned skeptically, twisting slightly to look back at her.

 

Giggling, she refused to pull away from his back, closing her eyes. “My gentleman,” she decided to clarify. Laughing a little more, she added, “My blonde… that's going to take some getting used to.” It wasn't blonde blonde, but it certainly wasn't brown, and it was very different from the jet black she had always known him for, with and without the red streaks. He'd colored it shortly before his trek to Germany, and she'd even picked the color with him, but it was still a little startling. It looked better on him than the black, to be sure… though it made her try imagining him with that warm brown that was supposed to be his original color more often.

 

Sighing in an overdramatic, put-upon way, he turned to put the bowls in the microwave with a paper towel over the both of them, and she stubbornly continued to cling to his back, giggling at the sheer ridiculousness of it but not bothering to stop… She squealed in surprise when he did something with his feet to spin himself around to face her anyhow, her face flushed with the adrenaline released from her being spooked. He was raising his eyebrows, looking down at her bemusedly. “You're tired,” he decided.

 

“Mmhm,” she agreed easily, closing her eyes and resting her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “It's been a long day.”

 

He chuckled a little, and she smiled as she felt the rumble pass through his chest. “Yeah,” he agreed. “No kidding.”

 

“So what happened?”

 

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Brussels - Compound, Lower Levels

The kitchen was still empty when we returned to it - which made sense, seeing as Jake had barred nearly all the entrances - and the man only paused to snatch up a fire extinguisher before leading us back up the stairs we had originally come down.

 

His abrupt turn in behavior was both a balm and frigidly terrifying… Probably because I had never seen Relena's knight in shining armor - or uniform as it were - in anything nearing this state. Relena obviously was new to it as well, but it wasn't entirely exotic to the younger woman; she had witnessed some milder variation before, I was positive. I had been shocked when she turned to order him around - I had been far from willing to brave that particular storm - but they seemed to slide into predetermined roles at that point, her directing with him providing the means…

 

What had I missed on their tours through Europe?

 

And what does he want with the fire extinguisher? I was trying to decide if the prospect was curious, exciting or if it made me want to take hold of my princess and run… This was the Jake that had earned his high rank, no bars held.

 

We really ought to have just ordered up to Relena's rooms.

 

And exactly what did he think he could accomplish with a fire extinguisher?

 

Sure that no one might come on them from the rear for now, I ducked ahead of Relena to pace alongside our newly feline friend, giving him a pointed look when he glanced my way. He obviously had a plan of some sort, and I wanted in on it, to help; unlike the princess, I had at least some idea of how to handle myself in a violent situation. I met that storm of cold calculation for a moment before he nodded and focused back on where he was going, hefting the extinguisher.

 

…I was still at something of a loss, though I decided it might be best if I didn't act as though this were the case. He knew I wasn't shocked into inaction by what was happening, and hopefully I would be factored in on those grounds. I turned back to consider Relena, to find her calmly doing the same to me.

 

…How disconcerting. I needed to keep in mind Relena's apparent changes as well as Jake's. I raised one brow at her and she only gave me that amused, mildly patronizing look that I actually rather cherished… the one that said she wasn't sure she appreciated my antics but accepted them anyhow. I smiled as sincerely as I could before focusing back ahead and on our surroundings, as the first door that might lead us to danger approached.

 

And then it all seemed to happen at once. I heard a solid, “Back,” as an order from Jake before the man was exploding forward, slamming open the door without any hesitation. I heard a sharp intake of breath followed by a soft hiss and gasp before I heard the sound of hard metal meeting flesh, and what I imagined was someone collapsing… And Jake stepped back into view, shaking his hair out of his eyes as he gestured us forward, tucking his gun in his waistband.

 

We did just that, though I was flushing from embarrassment that I had been entirely dismissed, or maybe it was from the pure stress of running around frightened for my life, or perhaps it was from awe that he had moved so fast and eliminated a threat before I even had a chance to react to him, and done it so thoroughly well…

 

…Had he just sprayed flame-retardant fluid down the traitor's throat to keep him from screaming a warning to any nearby?

 

He gestured us to stay in the corridor near the door and gave me a pointed look, glancing around the room, before kneeling to quickly check the man over, probably looking for anything useful both in terms of information and anything otherwise. Taking the hint, I stepped over the threshold, keeping the doorway blocked from Relena but offering cover for Jake if we were discovered prematurely.

 

We weren't, thankfully; Jake disarmed the soldier and apparently found no identification beyond a blue armband; that was likely how they were identifying each other. He slung the man - who was either dead or knocked unconscious - over his shoulders and shuffled past us, swiftly making his way down the stairs and dropping him in the kitchen before hastening back. He nodded at me again and, without any more than a gesture to follow, led us down a different hall, gun trained.

 

-

***

-

 

Brussels - Compound, Upper Levels

Milliardo ground his teeth, trying to keep his breathing even. He had been exhausted and more than ready to finally collapse in his bed after a long day when the alarms had gone off, and his body was screaming its protests… He didn't want to think of what shape he'd be in if he hadn't already taken his painkillers for the night, even if they fuzzed his senses. It was only determination keeping him upright and moving now, after he'd been forced to duck and tumble a few times…

 

He also wished he'd paid more attention when he was still in training, and Mitchell, Noin, Jake, and sometimes even Treize would play at that tumbling tag across the grounds; the easy mobility they had learned would be useful now where it had never been before.

 

He had never regretted his complete focus on MS training more than now. He'd only done the bare minimum required in other areas, striving to be the best in the one skill that might give him a chance at avenging his parents and lost home, and even then Noin still outclassed him, though she let him have the false prestige, the title of the best.

 

Relena's guards had joined his own as they moved to a stronger position, and he could only trust that Miller would keep her safe… they had to have been at least near the kitchens when the klaxons went off, and Jake had the layout of the base perfectly memorized, he ought to be able to evacuate her and Dorothy without too much trouble, or hide and protect them if that became impossible. At least the enemy should not know that the princess was currently in residence, and therefore they would not immediately target her.

 

The compound was already compromised from the first alarm to such a degree that it screamed betrayal… lectures from Jake and Lee about internal security rang bitingly in his head. They had first encountered fighting only two floors down from his and Relena's personal quarters, which was far too close for comfort. The alarm had been severely delayed.

 

What else have they already done? What are they after? Their proximity to the high suites suggested him, as Relena was only here by surprise, and this would have taken enough planning and coordination that the date couldn't have moved suddenly. To fool the alarms for so long there must have been at least some moles, and in more than one department. Not just spies, full sleeper cells. The enemy as they were were identifiable, but how many were still lying under cover? Not many in the direct fighting, he'd imagine, or they would risk killing their own, but he was going to have to begin purging his men for agents after this crisis was over.

 

He had immediately borrowed the uniform overcoat of one of the men and pulled his hair into a ponytail before tucking it down the collar, so the distinct white fall wasn't immediately visible. He had his own gun from his rooms and a decent amount of ammo and the standard issue combat knife he had learned the basics with as a cadet, as well as a rapier. He had never been near Treize's level of skill, and his focus was more on point than saber, but the motions of the sword were more familiar than with a knife. He had learned to fence in early childhood; the muscle memory was firmly grounded, even if he was out of practice.

 

He nodded when he was motioned to and they moved forward again, the immediate threat neutralized; they needed to get to the nearest surveillance room as quickly as possible and attempt to survey the damage.

 

-

***

-

 

Brussels - Compound, Main Levels

After that charming display with the fire extinguisher, there was relatively little opposition to be found; this area was nearly as barren as before. On the other hand, there was clear evidence of past fighting, walls marred by gunfire and a few men both with and without blue bands lying on the ground. Jake sparred them no attention and Dorothy's glances about were just as cursory, so I did my best to ignore the bile rising in my throat and keep pace with my guard. Whatever was happening, it seemed to be moving with an increased elevation in terms of the locale of the base…

 

…If they were after my brother, I couldn't help but consider if it might help my situation if they succeeded, much as the idea also sent chills down my spine.

 

I followed Jake blindly though back halls and areas I either had never bothered to explore or had been rendered unrecognizable at a glance by the fighting. I could tell that it had been brutal in some places… but the further we went without seeing any of the instigators, the higher my hopes rose that maybe we would get out of this without any more trouble than we'd already seen…

 

Is it possible to truly jinx an idea?

 

The fast turnaround seemed to say that yes, it certainly was…

 

-

***

-

 

Brussels - Compound, Lower Levels

“Mitchell?” Lincoln called cautiously before coming through the door. “Any sign?”

 

They had made it all the way down the base little by little… whoever had led the invasion either didn't know the layout as well as the colonel did, or they didn't have the manpower necessary to cover all routes. The latter theory was supported by the fact that as they came to the lower reaches of the building, they found it virtually abandoned…

 

“Well, if you count a dead man as a sign, I'd say.” Mitchell's tone was even more amused than earlier… which made Lin wonder edgily if it was true amusement on top of his superior's bullshit of if they had moved into even deeper water.

 

“Ours or blue?” he asked after a moment, moving around to see for himself.

 

“No band, but he smells like potassium acetate.”

 

The man's tone of voice was so firmly smug yet still sensual that it honestly sounded like he had to be talking about something pornographic; had he just gotten worse? This is one damn long night… Whatever Jake's `battlefield' mode was, it had to be better than this. “Potassium acetate?” he asked in as monotone of a tone he could manage.

 

The colonel's eyes lit up in a dangerous sort of way that rather made him want to run before he swept a purposeful glance around the room. “I don't see the extinguisher, and this is a kitchen…” He stood from the crouch he'd kept by the body, grinning broadly. “They were here… and the body's still warm, so not too long ago…” He tilted his head slightly, and seemed to be merely thinking aloud now. “The question is what direction did they take…?”

 

“Wait, how do you know they were here?” Lincoln demanded, even more confused. First the guy was listing off chemical compounds, and now it looked as though he might dash off down one of the other entrances… Though they were barred from this side, actually… Only one wasn't.

 

Mitchell started off down that hall as soon as Lin noticed it, and he had no option but to follow. His sometime friend was chuckling now, as he continued to talk; he seemed far more relaxed down here than before, though if possible his tone was worse. “Imagine highly pressurized foam being shot down your throat as you take a breath to shout…” He turned around to grin at Lincoln's wince. “Hushes you up damn nice and fast.” He chuckled again as he turned back to face forward, considering the first intersection they came to. “Mix isn't toxic, but the pressure collapses the lungs.”

 

And it clicked together, however perverse the idea was at first. It… well, it did make a sort of sense… “And Jake?” he asked, just for confirmation.

 

“Trademark,” the dark-haired colonel drawled, though it was practically a purr… God am I glad I mostly work under Jake… Not that Mitchell wasn't normally entirely cool, but if some sort of situation like this ever managed to happen again, he was sticking by the blonde colonel of his squad; tonight was going to give him nightmares, and the fighting wasn't even half of the reason.

 

Hopefully, they could just confirm that Miller had evacuated the heiresses and have at least that worry done with.

 

-

***

-

 

Brussels - Compound, Main Levels

The world worked on an impossible basis… everything so slow yet really impossibly fast…

 

The first gunshot was loud enough that I could have sworn it would rupture my eardrums. I knew that was strange… the sound of a gun firing was loud, but I didn't remember it being that loud… was it because it was the acoustics of the closeted halls, or due to a higher caliber?

 

I was aware, on some level, of Jake snatching me by the arm and forcing me into a run that I fell into with little difficulty… I wasn't being slow, even though it felt like it… my mind and body had detached somehow, so that even as I raced at Jake's side I was catching little details, like how the carpet was a different color down this hall than the last, and how odd it was that that little niche with a vase and silk flowers was completely undisturbed, or how incredibly dilated Dorothy's eyes were…

 

We spun suddenly, somehow, and I was twisted half sideways, trying to catch my footing as Jake faced the direction we had come, firing off his gun at the men chasing us three, four times, dropping all three in sight, before we were moving again, and this time it seemed like I was being half carried, I was too slow for the pace he wanted us to move at…

 

He'd carried me in Munich too, to go faster… only this time it was half to his front, half to his side, so he could move me quickly out of harm's way, like in Barcelona.

 

More gunfire, and the sound of men crying out in pain… Had that been Dorothy? I couldn't see, positioned as I was, but I thought so… she was picking off the men who lagged just behind the ones Jake had already killed for my sake.

 

If this was true fear, then I don't think I much minded, really. This numb fascination… everything was surreal with the flaring red lights spinning like a too slow strobe against the dim background of shadows. This couldn't be the place I had lived and worked in for the past year…

 

It was Libra all over again only worse, Heero guiding and protecting me through the same emergency lit halls, only this time I didn't know what was going on at all, and the mystery was more awful even than the knowledge that the battleship was on a direct collision course… there had been hope to simply stop that from happening, even though it had turned out not to be true. This… what was all this? An assassination attempt? An attempt to bring down the Regime altogether; were they striking other key bases at the same time, to try to bring us down in a matter of days the way OZ had the Alliance army? Something else entirely? They had come here on a night when I was not supposed to have been in residence… had they known that, or not? Were they swarming on the hotel I was supposed to be occupying tonight as well?

 

There was more gunfire and my bodyguard snarled as he abruptly changed direction again, and I screamed as white-hot fire tore through my arm, and the world blurred and swayed, my knees going weak as I gasped for air.

 

As soon as I began to fall, however, I had been swept up into a bridal carry as Jake barked something else out… I gripped at his shirt as tightly as I could, my eyes squeezed shut…

 

Oh God…

 

“Pressure,” I heard him whisper hoarsely to me. Ducking into somewhere free of the fighting, he shifted my weight to move one hand to cover the hurt arm… slippery wet…

 

Oh God…

 

“Lena?”

 

And that… he sounded almost like himself again…

 

“Lena, pressure,” he whispered, and I opened my eyes to look into his. They were… not normal, but not like before either. His voice wasn't so cold and impersonal now, but it wasn't right either…

 

He looked… scared, I think.

 

Scared for me?

 

“Lena, Honey, come on, you have to hold pressure until we get somewhere I can wrap it up…”

 

Turning to hide my face in his chest, still keeping a death grip on his shirt with the one hand, I gripped my hurt arm with the other even as it made me cry harder…

 

And, tightening his grip on me, he started moving again.

 

-

***

-

 

L-1

Marlé sighed as the bleach started to slide out of her hair once under the spray of the shower; the stuff smelled awful, and she'd already been sitting with it for over twenty minutes… both her and Odin's roots had started to show, and they didn't have the same brands up here to pick the colors from, so they had to do all of their hair again instead of just the not blonde parts, and it itched so bad. At least the kit came with a pretty nice conditioner for once she got it all out…

 

She tried to be fast so Odin could sit in the hot water for a while, since this wasn't one of the nicer places they'd stayed at and she thought they might run out eventually. He didn't need it anywhere near as much as he used to, though. his leg seemed to be getting better all the time even with how he'd hurt it chasing after the not really a gundam pilot guy.

 

Today had been a good day, the nastiness of the bleach aside… They'd stayed at the park until nightfall, going up and down the wall and play fighting with tumbles and the basic blocks he'd taught her before stretching out again to make sure they didn't strain anything, and walking to get dinner and the boxes of hair dye. She'd learned a lot and it had just been… fun. And Odin had seemed to be really having fun too, so that was even better.

 

Trying to dry off her hair as much as she could as she got back out, she couldn't help but wonder what Meagan was doing now… They'd looked her up too, when they first started, but her name was so common they'd gotten over a thousand results back on it, and none of them with pictures, and Marie had no idea what her nanny might want to do now that she wasn't working for the Barton Foundation like she had for the past seven or more years… she knew enough, and after taking care of her, she was qualified for a slew of professions to do with homes.

 

It had been five months since her Grandfather had taken her away from Meagan and at the time she had been excited, thinking that maybe he was sorry for how he had always ignored her and her mother, and that maybe it was her chance to make it all up to him, and he'd love her and they would all be a family like all the other girls in school had… She'd been foolish to think that maybe what her mother had always said about him didn't count all of a sudden, that he had wanted her for her. It had been about something else all along, though she still wasn't entirely sure what that was; maybe to do with her father, whoever he had been, but maybe not, maybe that had just been a lie anyways. Even if he thought he knew who her father was, Marie knew for a fact that her mother wouldn't have told him, and what proof could he have other than that? It wasn't even worth looking into, honestly.

 

And now it had been four months since she had run away and the news said her grandfather was dead but omitted anything about her… Odin had said it was probably because it would look bad for them to say they had simply lost her, even if she had run on her own. Four months… not even a semester, but sometimes it felt like years that they had been traveling, just the two of them. She liked the life they had cut out for themselves… was beginning to think of how she'd miss it after they eventually found her mother. It almost made her want to put it off more, not look so hard, but at the same time, they were already starting to sell Christmas stuff in the stores… and it was strange to think that it might just be Odin and her alone for Christmas, without Meagan or her mother… Heh, knowing him I'll probably have to explain everything about it to him like a little kid…

 

She loved Odin, and he was unbelievably smart, but he just didn't get a lot of normal things, like birthdays, and cuddling, or movie theaters or throwing coins into a fountain, or eating so much chocolate you thought you might be sick. Most stuff, if it was just something fun that you figured everyone knew about, it was like he'd never heard of it before. It was usually fun to try to explain it, though, and he didn't mind playing along with whatever she wanted to do, so it was easy to show him most of the time… It was like he took care of her, but she was taking care of him too, in a different way; sometimes he had started asking her to explain emotions, almost as if he was new to them… And she had gotten him to start playing a game with her of making up situations and how people would react, and do this or that and why, only half the time he spent his turns asking for more details for why…

 

Sometimes, everything about Odin was so hopeless and sad, even while he was awesome.

 

Sighing, she got dressed, even as she started to wonder what would happen once their search ended… She'd probably have to go back to school, which she thought she might just rather do without, but she would also get to see her mother every day… But would she still get to see Odin at all? She didn't like that idea at all… He'd at least visit sometimes, wouldn't he? Well, of course he would… but it wouldn't be the same at all, nothing like this, where they had no one they really had to answer to and all the time in the world on their hands.

 

Grimacing, she started to wonder how awful going back to being `normal' was going to be.

 

-

***

-

Brussels - Compound, Lower Levels

“Shit!” Mitchell exclaimed, pulling back from the door.

 

Lincoln blinked; despite the tone of voice, the man hadn't been cursing - at least not in English - for a while. “What?”

 

“This was sealed, probably before the alarm tripped,” he snarled, pushing past him and racing back down the halls. “They're not out, they're upstairs somewhere!”

 

Lin raced after him, heart starting to race; the fact that Mitchell wasn't talking like a creep anymore meant he might actually be worried now, and that couldn't be good…

 

-

***

-

 

Brussels - Compound, Main Levels

It somehow seemed like both hours and moments before Jake was easing me out of his arms and into a sitting position by a wall, and Dorothy was pulling me into an embrace instead as she sat next to me. The movement hurt my arm more and I cried out all the same, though hopefully quietly, as my grip on the wound slipped… I grabbed it again a moment later; the pressure helped the pain, after the initial increase.

 

Dorothy looked terrified and at a loss, far out of place, her designer blouse a little torn and her face dirty, with cleaner marks down her cheeks from tears. Her hair was all over the place.

 

Dorothy always needed an anchor of some kind… and I had been just that for almost nine months now. “Hey, Thea,” I whispered, using the new nickname, trying to calm her down. “Don't cry… I'll be okay.” Eventually. I could understand Duo's shock now, when he kept shooting Heero and the other gundam pilot kept getting up, seeming almost to not care about the pain at all.

 

“We should be able to hold here,” Jake announced after a moment. He was in a crouch next to me, hands held loosely together. His eyes were icy serious again, but that didn't bother me quite so much as it had before. “We're far enough away from any particular area of import, but they're still through here enough that they won't use gas. We'll be able to go through there,” he gestured toward one wall of the room, “and wait the rest of the assault out.” Meeting my eyes solidly, he said, “I need you to stay here for a few minutes.”

 

I blinked in confusion, surprise, then narrowed my eyes. “Where are you going?”

 

“There's an armory closet close to here; it's not labeled correctly and was locked when we passed.” Raising his brows he added, “We need a contingency plan, and more options in any event, Princess.”

 

I grit my teeth; he was back to titles, which showed his mood… I much preferred `Lena'. At least it wasn't in the mockingly deferential tone he had used when furious with my brother, but he was clearly formally in his role as my bodyguard now, and he thought that what he was about to do was paramount. He knew that leaving behind the casual tone of our relationship meant that I had to listen, had to trust his judgment.

 

The pain seemed unimportant now, as I let my eyes harden; he knew best, but he still answered to me. “How long will it take?” I demanded as coolly as I could.

 

“Possibly less than ten minutes, fifteen max,” he returned.

 

“Make it back without any grievous injury,” I ordered.

 

An odd light passed through his eyes as he nodded curtly… And then he was gone.

 

“Relena?”

 

And all the pain, the exhaustion, came back as if on a swift wind and I slumped against my friend. “What?” I asked tiredly. Oh God it hurt…

 

She was silent for another moment before she made to stand up. “I'll see if there's a medical kit in here,” she whispered.

 

I nodded, pulling back from her and resting my weight completely on the wall at my back so she could search… and checked my watch. I was going to time him, somewhat, to try and keep from worrying too much… Of course, without me there to slow him down, he was capable of far more, so he would be fine…

 

There was no med kit in the room, and I waved away Dorothy's apologies; it was hardly her fault, and I would probably be fine for a while yet; the blood was clotting fairly well, considering the gaping wound I sported through the tricep… I suppose I ought to be glad it didn't hit the bone. I groused, trying and utterly failing to make light of the injury. At least, I don't think it hit… This hurt, but that would hurt on an entirely new level, I was fairly sure. Not that it didn't hurt more than anything ever had before…

 

Letting out deep breath slowly, but trying not to hiss it for the sake of Dorothy's seemingly fragile sanity, I tried to settle myself enough to wait for the man who had easily become the closest friend, closest person to me in my entire life, to return.

 

Was it unusual that I expected him to have acquired gundam pilot proportions of defensive weaponry? I had to wonder if my estimation was right, in that regard…

 

-

***

-

 

Brussels - Compound, Upper Levels

Milo Thorly made sure to keep his breathing steady and quiet as he edged closer to where the wall cornered, listening for anything other than the now ambient sounds of the wailing klaxon, whistling broken vents, the sprinklers raining down in the near distance… His hands were steady on his weapon, and like on L3-X18999, the adrenaline only made him calmer, sharper, and more steady rather than jittery… David Mitchell had complimented him, even, on his reaction in the real life situation.

 

He imagined how this base might fall, sometimes, took quite a number of mental notes that might be helpful, but he had never imagined he might be using them as a form of self-protection, of predicting an enemy's movement's, instead of aiding his Excellency's entrance. He was nearly positive that this couldn't be Po's people… Their style was more distinct, deliberate, and more importantly, they strove for increased stability as an end goal, not chaos.

 

He had never seriously contemplated the option that someone other than Dr. Po or General Khushrenada might gain the power to do something like this.

 

He couldn't hear anything out of place, but that method was hardly foolproof… he sorely wished he had some idea where Mitchell had gotten himself too; the dual-named man had taught him more than half of what he knew, and rarely let him work alone in dangerous situations, but there was no sign of Campbell either, so the only two men he knew he could trust implicitly, that he knew worked on entirely the same side as him, were entirely unavailable.

 

At the moment, he'd settle for anyone without that blue band around their arm for some back-up.

 

He dearly wished he could remember what code to punch into his handheld to get a connection a useful connection… normally he had a card with all of them listed out, but it had apparently been in the pocket of the jacket he hadn't grabbed after waking up to the sound of the siren and gathering only the absolutely necessary items before dashing out the door. Though, he was positive that at least three of the combinations he put in were correct for some sector of the base, but no one was picking up… which suggested that not everyone was at their station - though he might have called the supply closet once, to be honest.

 

However, they couldn't all have been locked down supply closets, which meant that either a number of people were ignoring their training and racing into the chaos instead of holding the structure of command and communication in place, or that they had already been dealt with by the enemy faction and were down for the count. The system lines required a re-entered code and thumbprint registered into your personal transmitter to work… if the invaders were intelligent at all, they were keeping a separate line of open communication on their own devices, so as not to be overheard or cut off from each other.

 

To be honest, he was relatively sure that for safety reasons, the main lines would be left unused at least until the Regime had a firm hold on at least two of the control rooms spread throughout the base, and possibly not even then, for the same reasons the invading force ought to be using an insular system. His transmitter, even with the little card he liked to keep, was virtually useless; who the hell could he trust by voice, anyhow? Even if he found someone to talk to and went to join forces, it could just be an ambush by someone who kept that channel open to pull a trick just like that. And who would trust him, some random sergeant, besides Mitchell or Campbell, who knew exactly who he was loyal to? Treize had quite a few more men in this base he was positive, but none of them knew who more than a two or three others who were also loyal for security purposes. The closest he could say was that he knew Mitchell reported out to someone called something that sounded like `Volley', and Mitchell was friends with half the damn army, so the code name there even meant absolutely nothing.

 

There were still no differing sounds when he reached the twist of corridor, and he growled in frustration even as he wanted to sigh in relief. No enemy, but no allies, and the radio was utterly fucking useless. He only knew where he was in a rather textbook manner of the floor number and what the letters said, but he had never been in this area before and was completely lost in every way that mattered. He had come upstairs because he thought that Mitchell was likely up here and heard this was the worst spot for trouble to dive into from someone who had made it back down, but his plan of going around to a different area before ascending to attack from a different angle meant absolutely nothing at this point, as he was apparently in a completely deserted wing and had not encountered anyone at all since the fifth floor, over ten stories ago.

 

The only good news so far consisted of the fact that a) he hadn't gotten himself injured or killed, and b) whoever was attacking did not have enough manpower to adequately manage a full attack on this stronghold, for him to be in this completely isolated bubble he'd fallen into.

 

Picking a door more or less at random and entering as he'd been taught, looking for threats and ready to retaliate against them - even though there weren't any to be found - he settled against the wall and dug out his radio again. Might as well try… After glaring at it for a moment out of sheer spite, he tapped in what he knew was at least the right prefix for somewhere on base and punched in an entirely random set of numbers to finish the eight digits before hitting enter. Bringing it to his mouth he asked tiredly, “This is Sergeant Milo Thorly, anyone there? Come in, please, I'm out of my fucking mind with confusion for what the hell's happening here…” It wasn't like anyone was actually going to answer, and if someone did hear and wanted to actually site him for language, he'd deal with it later…

 

He almost jumped when someone choked out a laugh on the other end. “No kidding on that one, Sergeant, I'd love some answers too… I've got this guy here, but I wasn't trained for this and he's an ass who doesn't want to talk.” There was a pause. “And I think he just passed out from blood loss or something anyway.”

 

Milo couldn't help but chuckle a little, mostly in disbelief, before pressing down the send on the transmitter again. “Who is this?” he asked, genuinely curious; he didn't think someone playing from the other side would return with a comment like that… Whoever it was was young, and sounded a little spacey too.

 

“Oh, right, sorry, sir, Private Hayden Polanski stationed at Gate Six, sir. I closed up what I could, but that was only after I, er… recovered myself and my position, sir.”

 

Milo blinked a little at that jumbled mess and winced slightly; kid sounded like he was trying to think harder than he could. “You okay, Private?” he found himself asking.

 

There was a pause where he imagined Hayden was grimacing too before he came back on. “Pretty sure I have a concussion, sir… Not too sure now long it was before I came back to other than the guy who brained me had me neat under the desk and completely forgotten about me before I surprised him. Sir.”

 

Milo winced again, hitting the button. “That sounds like a definite ouch, Hayden… calm down about the ranking. I'm lost somewhere in the J area of the 18th floor… maybe the North wing? I'm not sure, but it's damn deserted and I'm a few steps beyond lost… Any ideas?”

 

“Sorry, Sergeant, but my views are all external, and I've never been up through that area…”

 

Milo sighed. Flicking the switch that would keep an open two-way, so he didn't have to keep hitting the button and they could interrupt each other verbally but the radios wouldn't cut them off if a button was pushed, he continued. “Damn… Don't suppose you've had any luck with live radios? I lost my card, I've been punching in combos off vague memory and hoping, here, but you're the first I've managed to find, and that was just dumb luck.”

 

“I haven't been trying,” Hayden admitted. “Not sure if it's compromised or not… Honestly, the only reason I answered you was I don't think they'd try sounding official enough to budge me, talking like that.”

 

The sergeant let out a tired snort, feeling exhausted even though he knew he was fit for battle still. “Something like that back at you, Private… Before I move back out of this room and try to get my bearings again, what do you have that you can tell me, if not which way to go?” If nothing else, he could go back out into the labyrinth with a slightly better perception as to how far spread this was.

 

“I don't know what might be useful, sir…”

 

“At this point, all I know is that they have blue bands on the right arm and were mostly trying to head upwards in the compound. Just start from when everything got weird with you and give me everything you've got, maybe I can find something useful out of the lot of it…”

 

The kid sounded a little relieved to follow the sense of logic; Milo knew from experience how hard it could be to think through a concussion, and was honestly a bit impressed, especially since it was probably a bad one, with how long he thought he might have been under. “Alright, that sounds okay… Oh, um, before I start, I don't know how many people realize… The princess came in today, unless she left out a different gate after 17:00 hours she's on base somewhere…”

 

Milo's eyes widened; he had wondered why Mitchell was on base, but he had assumed, since word was that the princess was still in Germany, that he had simply had to come back for something and he had left his men under his partner's command for one night, or that he might have been about to head back out in a few hours after taking care of something urgent, not that Relena Peacecraft was currently at home and in the middle of this. “Dear God,” he muttered under his breath involuntarily. Even if she was already evacuated and perfectly fine, if word ever got out that she had been here during this attack the political impact could be astronomical, up to five or ten times worse than it would be already…

 

As it was, everyone might be more scared, and worry over the attack here. If the princess was threatened, however… Relena was a far cry from Milliardo Peacecraft in the public eye, and there would a cry of pure outrage at the idea that she wasn't kept perfectly safe at all times, unless it was some act of apparent heroism, like what had happened in Munich. This… this was an absolute disaster once the story got out, and he could only pray that she didn't have a single god damn bruise to show for it or the media and consequently the crowds might just lose it.

 

“Sir?”

 

“No, I had no idea, but… let's just hope her guard is doing their job, they were carefully selected.” Mitchell, please, have her halfway back to Germany by now and your side trip covered up entirely… “Tell me what you know, what happened to you?” Licking his lips, he added the prompt, “Was the alarm what brought you back to?”

 

“Um, no, actually,” Hayden sounded a little flustered by that, and even let out a sort of nervous little laugh “I'm pretty sure I'm the one that first set off the alarm, actually…”

 

-

***

-

 

Brussels - Compound, Main Levels

It was hard to stay distracted, to not stare at my watch every passing second, my nerves winding tighter with every tick of the tiny mechanism… trying to keep track had not been one of my better ideas today… then again, apparently, neither was coming home to my bed for one night of rest, nor getting a midnight snack form the kitchens ourselves… However much I appreciated Jake, I knew full well that I would have been safer with my full contingent of guards; that's what they were there for, after all.

 

I wasn't any vague sort of sociable even if I did need to be distracted, however, and I was glad that Dorothy had caught that and wasn't willing to chatter. I was worried about her, with the way she was staring off into nothing with practically no blood in her face, but I couldn't say I was in any position to comfort her. Jake had said he thought we would be safe here but he had still wanted a Plan B, and even if Dorothy was somewhat trained it was no secret that she was in far over her head. We would both feel better once our Colonel was back with us.

 

Almost seven minutes… He had said he might be back by now; had he run into trouble? I tried to keep my breathing steady, tried not to let my heart race again… my chest already ached abominably from the night's exertion and adrenaline.

 

This felt like the war all over again, and I couldn't help but remember the night of the school dance, first running and trying to help evacuate stunned into inaction, screaming my lungs out in warnings and fear, before finally making it outside… Screaming at Heero in his gundam, then futilely trying to shield my head as the rubble from the building, some pieces larger than cars, came crashing down, waiting to just be crushed to death even though I desperately wanted to survive, trying to fight back a sob of pure terror, before I realized that the boy who had said he wanted to kill me had used his massive shield to save me instead.

 

As I had made my way to safety I hadn't been able to stop thinking of how I had known it was the right thing to have given him an invitation to my birthday party, even if he had ripped it and never come… I could have such silly thoughts when terrible things were happening, sometimes…

 

We had gone away from the door - Dorothy had insisted - to lean against the side of one of the big desks occupying the room… dully, I had thought that we might be somewhere in the maze of the reconstruction department, which was depressing. Was anyone working late tonight? It always seemed like at least a handful always were…

 

I felt vibrations running through the floor from what could only be an explosion before I registered the corresponding sound. “Jake,” I breathed, digging up strength I wouldn't have believed I still possessed to launch myself off the ground and race for the door. I vaguely registered Dorothy hissing at me, maybe moving too, but I couldn't care as I moved to see if maybe everything could be okay-

 

I managed to open the door a little before Dorothy practically tackled me. It was more than a little strange, with her obviously avoiding my hurt arm and adamant amount of clumsiness, but I followed the sentiment of the action, appreciated it, even, on some level, even while I really didn't. I dug my nails into the soft inside of her wrist hard and heard her gasp before I shoved her off me hard and sat up on my knees. I only pushed the door open enough to look through out a little…

 

Whatever Dorothy wanted to think, I wasn't stupid.

 

I couldn't see any sign of the explosion, though, so I sat back on my knees, squeezing my eyes shut as another wave of pain hit, smiling a little apologetically over to Dorothy. “Heh, sorry…” That had been rather uncalled for, come to think of it… She only shook her head a little at me, though, and came to sit by me again, to keep waiting.

 

-

***

-

 

“Shit!” Lincoln exclaimed as he bumped against the wall hard, surprised by the shuddering sent through the building by what could only be an explosion. They had been holding the corner they'd almost been killed moving around for a while now, with no sign of the three they were trying to find, though it was hard to say if that was for better or worse. Jake was the head of their contingent for a reason, after all; in a technical sort of way, he and David Mitchell were partners and held the same rank, but Mitchell was far newer to the rank, and Miller had more experience than most lieutenant generals. The man was a goddamn jack-of-all-trades, a specialist at being whatever was necessary, but…

 

Well, everyone had their limits, and the odds in this situation were a few steps beyond what any of them were used to. Or at least, if Colonel Miller had ever faced these kinds of odds, he had never been responsible for a helpless young woman at the same time, and Dorothy had only gone through basic. If these guys were willing to play with explosives then this was a whole new level of bad.

 

And…. Mitchell was grinning fiercely. “What?” he demanded quietly.

 

“Maybe they weren't in on it, or the timing just surprised them…” He chortled. “But I'd say those guys look awful unsure of themselves after that…”

 

…Colonel Mitchell really needed to be instructed on how to deliver `good news.'

 

-

***

-

 

When I felt the second explosion, I was already at the door. It rocked me harder, though whether that was because of its strength or my own growing weakness was hard to say. I could hear yelling - thankfully no screaming - from a ways away, moving away… I waited until that seemed to settle before reaching for the slightly open door with my good hand, then bit back a yelp as there was a third, then fourth awful noise, and the sprinklers above me and in the hall started to rain down in response.

 

This was so ridiculous… I'd already been shot, I hardly needed to catch a cold too, there was no fire here. My hand ached; I supposed the door had tried to slam back shut on it, but it hardly seemed to compare. Even more curious than before, I pushed the door open enough to look back out even as I shivered from the cold as the water began to soak through my clothes…

 

There was no fire, like I'd thought, and the yelling was more distant, but I could see puffs of white smoke down at the far end of the hall, maybe one hundred meters away. No one seemed to be close at all, now, though the screeching sirens might be covering the noise, come to think of it.

 

Dorothy was tugging at my jacket, trying to coax me into retreating back into the room, but it had been over ten minutes now, and even while some part of me was frightened, I was too determined to let that cow me. Besides, if everyone had moved off to investigate the explosions, then-

 

Boots. Despite myself, I shrank back a little, trying to remember if Jake had been wearing his or not, if this might be someone else investigating. What a silly question, I scolded myself a moment later. The only time I had seen the man not wearing his combat boots was directly before he went to bed or right after he woke.

 

Of course, that didn't mean anything either, though; almost every soldier in this base wore boots constantly, in or out of uniform. I retreated enough so that it was a bare slit to peek out through, trying to see the silhouette once he came near enough, to assuage my doubts.

 

However, I didn't see anything when that fast step suddenly came to a stop, and I held my breath…

 

A radio fuzzed in… a man's voice asking questions, and a quick retort that sounded like negative, only there was no sound of boots again…

 

Oh God. I sagged against the wall by the door, shaking, closing my eyes. That was not him… that could be anyone standing out there. Swallowing, I checked my watch again. Almost twelve minutes. Had it really only been less than thirty seconds since the last explosion?

 

My eyes snapped back open at the sound of another boot moving, as my ears had already begun to tune out the sound of the water… He was still out there. There's nothing here for you to see, I swore to myself as I closed my eyes again, gripping Dorothy's hand tightly once it found its way into my lap. Nothing worth investigating… Just leave, nothing extraordinary about this corridor…

 

A distant boom sounded further away, and I couldn't help but let out a relieved breath as I heard him mutter what was likely a curse and spin on heel before racing away, the water everywhere making his movements more obvious. I relaxed a little more as I listened to the beat of his boots begin to fade… and stop, suddenly.

 

“Sir?” he sounded a little confused. It was impossible to hear more than a handful of words… Someone was out there with him that I hadn't heard approach.

 

They're all the way down at the end of the hall, I decided, leaning forward just another hair.

 

It was still garbled a little, but I managed hear quite a lot of the ending conversation, “See if you can clear out this sector for a while, with all the bombs being set off it's not worth it, we can work out what the hell happened here later. There might be more, and some of them might be more violent; these ones already might have been warning shots before they do something more drastic.”

 

“Shit…”

 

“Right, so get out of he-”

 

Another massive roar of explosion cut him off while punctuating his point, and both ran.

 

I found myself swallowing again, unsure what to make of the explosions anymore… not that I had known what to think of them before. Was this area a bad idea after all? When Jake came back, were we going to have to dash off to a different abused corner of the base to hide and wait out the insanity? Could we make it that far? And Jake… I checked my watch; it had been twelve and a half minutes, nearly. Is he going to make it back? The idea hurt deep in my chest, hurt almost as bad as it had when I watched my father die… Had he died out there trying to find a better way to keep me safe?

 

I couldn't see fire, but I could see the light of it now, reflecting against the white of the corridor halls. It was a kind of buttery yellow glow… could the sprinklers handle it, or would Dorothy and I have to run soon and presume the worst of our friend?

 

He has to make it back…

 

“He will,” Dorothy whispered fiercely behind me; apparently I'd spoken aloud. I nodded a little, unable to conjure up a smile I couldn't believe in-

 

Someone was walking through the water flooded hall.

 

Dorothy seemed not to have heard it yet and was rubbing her hand over my back in reassuring circles. The sprinklers had turned off, so why couldn't the other woman hear that? Wanting to scream from the again rising tension, feeling like I'd been wrung out one too many times tonight already, I slapped Dorothy's hands away as I made to stand…

 

…And found myself falling against the door instead.

 

Frantic, I tried to catch myself on the doorframe, but while one arm managed, the other was entirely out of commission, and I only did it halfway and bumped the door open by almost a foot, headfirst, though still kneeling on the ground so not at head height, at least.

 

It was hard to see any details; the lighting made it so that he was made entirely of shadows. Some kind of massive rifle, possibly even with anti-aircraft capabilities, was slung over one shoulder, a slew of weapons over the other, and more around his chest and waist and even trailing onto one leg… He had a handgun in one hand and something that looked like a tool in the other, and was walking at a calm pace ever so quietly, the soft splash of the water being the only sound.

 

In the dark of the hall and spinning red emergency lights, and the distant glow of the fire casting him in dark relief, hair splayed wildly, covered in weaponry and that silent confidence in his walk… “Relena.” His tone was so empty, cold and even…

 

For one beautiful, horrifying moment, I could have sworn it was Heero.

 

He crouched down and met my eyes… such a deep blue, but no, a different shade… I ran my hand through that unruly mop of damp hair; so blonde, not brown…

 

He frowned, and the ice in his eyes melted a little to show concern. “Lena?”

 

I was crying, but I wasn't sure why… if it was because I was really looking into my friends face and he was safe and with me again… or if it was because he wasn't Heero… And I always tried desperately to forget how I missed Heero.

 

“You're back,” I managed to choke out, exhaustion dragging me down again as I leaned back against the wall. Jake back and Heero forever lost… once I was in a high enough position of power, the arrest warrants and bounties would immediately be canceled, but who was to say if they had all survived? You could only cheat death so many times…

 

I could only cry harder as Jake handed Dorothy everything that was in his hands so he could gently pull me into an embrace. It was so bizarre, him holding me like this when I had so wanted it before, during the war, but this wasn't him, but at the same time it was Jake… And being held hurt, and made me sob even more desperately…

 

…but at the same time… I closed my eyes and buried my face in his shoulder, realizing I was shivering as hard as I was crying, fisting the material of his shirt with my good hand. This was so… nice, somehow… Jake was here for me, and not confusing, so steadfast and dependable, and such a good, true friend…

 

And somehow, thinking what I already knew made everything… okay again.

 

Letting out a shaky breath, I quietly asked him, “So what do we do now? Is it safe here, with the explosions?”

 

He let out a breath of air against my hair that sounded like a chuckle. “I set the explosions, to lure attention away; that was what took so much time, tying and untying that blue band to go through groups.” I could almost feel him smile appreciatively when I let out my own amused breath. Master planning everything, huh? Definitely much better than everything the boys managed to do before Quatre pulled them together for Libra. Though it was interesting that he didn't consider any men fighting for our side… but then, with this much inside work, who knew who was loyal? Of course he wouldn't trust anyone else… My brother and my other guards were probably the only ones immune to his paranoia.

 

Shifting slightly against me, he added, “We need to move through to that other room… I got the emergency med and survival kits too, we'll see if we can get you warm, so you don't get any deeper into shock…”

 

“Oh my god!” Dorothy exclaimed suddenly as Jake picked me back up, so we both turned to look… at…yellow…dangling from her hand by little charms…

 

I let out a groan as Jake let out a low, disbelieving chuckle. She had… her cell phone…

 

“Why didn't any of us think of that?” I asked tiredly. Looking back up to Jake, I noted, “We were supposed to focus on not forgetting them after Munich, weren't we?”

 

“She normally carries her phone in that glittering sack of pleather,” he told me in a dry tone. “She didn't have that, so I assumed she had no phone. Ours are on the coffee table of your suite.”

 

“It's not a glittering sack of pleather,” Dorothy protested as she stood and made to follow Jake.

 

“Right, you call it a `purse', don't you?”

 

“It happens to be a Katherine Lianne clutch,” the woman informed us primly. I couldn't help but smile, knowing they were bantering in part to try to soothe my nerves. And in all honesty, Dorothy's latest purse was beyond hideous, and a nicely distracting topic.

 

“I think I know where you messed up,” I noted to Jake, loud enough that Dorothy could hear. “It's a glittering sac of leather with a designer name on it.” There was a reason I was very glad Dorothy had never taken it upon herself to shop for me…

 

“So glad I'll never find myself buying something that could be used to lure magpies for you,” Jake quipped back to me.

 

I smiled a little, even though it turned into a grimace when he took another step and jolted my arm. “I like my purse… And my pockets.”

 

“Your purse is for every day hundrum,” Dorothy protested, apparently deciding to ignore our further attack on her fashion. “What if you have to wear a dress to something, you can't take the one you have.”

 

Another jolting step. “Thea,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “I have a minimum of four bodyguards at any given point of the day… If I really need to bring fresh lipstick or liner, or even a small compact as well as any money, it can all go it their pockets.”

 

Dorothy huffed at me, but Jake chuckled. “She has a point,” he added as he moved us through the doorway into the room he had indicated at first, and ooh… it was dry! Jake set me back down and made some note about securing the door before moving back out into the office… this was some kind of storage room, though it had carpeting. Pulling my knees to my chest and leaning forward as much as I could without making my arm scream more, I rubbed at my legs with my good hand, trying warm them up, and soon enough Dorothy was helping me. When Jake came back in and noted that the door was completely secure against entry, he revealed that the `survival pack' included a blanket and one of those extreme absorption towels, along with a change of military issue clothes, water, a slew of different rations, and quite a number of other things.

 

It wasn't until I was entirely dry, with the exception of my reduced to damp hair, and dressed in long johns and fatigues, with my wound bandaged tightly, that I realized Dorothy was in awful shape as well and tried to protest, only to be told that I was in shock and that they could handle being miserable for a bit while I couldn't risk it after the trauma of the night and blood loss. When I still tried to argue, Jake had shaken his head a little and took off his fatigue shirt he'd been wearing to offer Dorothy the long-sleeved shirt he had on as a second layer over his tank top, so she had turned away to dry herself off as much as she could - with Jake politely looking in the opposite direction. She looked odd in a man's too large shirt, especially with her tendency to follow fashion's every step and dance, but she seemed grateful for it, pulling her wet hair up into a thick bun at the back of her head with pens from the previous room. Her pants were still soaked completely through, though, so we eventually talked her into taking them off and just keeping the blanket wrapped around her, secured by a few safety pins kept in a desk.

 

So it wasn't until we were all somewhat warm, myself finding no shame whatsoever at sitting in Jake's lap, tucked against his chest with one side of his fatigue shirt over me, sharing warmth, with Dorothy tucked against his other side and her feet in his lap by mine to get warm, that the subject of the phone came up again.

 

“So…” Dorothy was holding it up by the charms again, letting the tiny machine sway back and forth by the strings. “Who should we call?”

 

-

***

-

 

“What?” Mitchell had tilted his head to one side, and so far that meant he was considering some new aspect of what was happening. They had been flushed out of one area like everyone else with explosives, but that was still a complete unknown, and this was far from a safe area to be in…

 

“My phone's vibrating,” he answered, sounding perplexed.

 

“Uh…” That was a little weird. And inconvenient. Shit! “Incoming,” Lincoln snapped, making the man focus back on the fight starting around them for what felt like the fiftieth time that night.

 

-

***

-

 

Jake sighed. “He's not answering. He probably doesn't even have it… We'll try again later. If you can stomach it you should try to eat some of this, and Relena, drink all the water if you can… If nothing else, the morphine I gave you will probably make you sleep soon, but you'll feel better on it if there's something in your stomach.”

 

She blinked at him, a bit cutely, actually, and frowned. “You drugged me?” she asked, fighting a sudden yawn.

 

“You needed it,” he assured her. “It's pretty point blank procedure, you get shot, you get a shot of morphine, makes the world a whole lot better of a place.” He shook his head a little and looked over to Dorothy to explain, “We'll just stay here and try to keep warm for a while, then call back out in maybe two hours, or wait for someone to call us first. Could you bring over the ration stuff for us to pick through, though?”

 

The blonde woman rolled her eyes even as she grinned at him before moving to do as he asked. In that time, Relena leaned back to study his face. “What?” Jake asked gently. She had honestly been in some stage of shock since the first sign of true violence, progressively getting deeper, but at least now she seemed like she was starting to recover from it… he'd been more than a little worried when he came back, terrified he was going to have to leave the haven he'd set up for them and get her straight to a doctor, but she'd calmed down, and they had gotten her warm, and the office had its own thermostat that he'd set to the highest heat, with a good vent coming in here, blowing good, hot air… She should be fine until it was safe to move again, or better yet, until they could get help come to them once this attack was over with.

 

What moron thought they could actually take down the Brussels compound, anyway?

 

“You're back,” she repeated softly, resting all her weight against his chest again. The warmth she gave off was more than welcome after the cold from the sprinklers that he'd mostly managed to stay dry through, but it wasn't good if she was this out of it still… Though, actually, the morphine would make her pretty out of it.

 

“You came back,” she said again. “You're not going to leave… Heero would have left by now…”

 

He watched her a little more carefully at that and tightened his hold around her ribs in a hug. Old trauma from the war flared up… he mused. I should have realized. On the bright side, though, she wasn't delusional about what had happened, nor had it seemed to really stall her unnaturally, stop her regular speech patterns… The physical end of her going into shock probably wasn't as severe as he'd worried. “I'm not going anywhere,” he assured her.

 

He wasn't sure how the other pilots treated her beyond wild rumors on all counts and a few reports from Lu about them all getting along at her school in Sanc, but Heero Yuy had gotten her into some terrifying situations, and rarely helped her get back out beyond keeping her alive. In all fairness though, it had been Relena's willfulness that started her game of following Yuy and the trouble he got into, and it had likely been all the boy was able to manage to keep her off the casualty list each time.

 

Considering 01's style of fighting and sabotage, it wasn't exactly a leap to say that `delicate handling' had never been a part of his training. Or `subtlety', or even `partway'. Yuy was efficient and brutal, and while Jake could completely understand, having lived by those terms himself for more than a few years, it was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to true skill; efficiency was all fine and good, but you needed finesse, needed to learn a little more fine control and dexterity so you could attack a base with a minimal loss of innocents, versus just blowing the whole thing to dust.

 

“I know,” she whispered back, closing her eyes. “You just… earlier… you were acting just like him, for a while, so cold… It took me forever to realize why it seemed so familiar. Your eyes, the way you talk, no emotions… predator's grace and proficiency.”

 

He blinked. Really? It was also interesting to know that her vocabulary seemed to expand when she was feeling out of it, but that was hardly consequential; Zechs did the same shit… Nature or nurture, really?

 

Over the years he'd gathered his `battle persona' was an unusual style, if far from unheard of, but then, considering how Yuy had calmly stepped out of his suit and hit the self-destruct, it made a sort of sense that he did the same sort of emotional shutdown. “Don't worry about it,” he told her easily. “It's just a kind of focus, is all… a frame of mind that makes it all easier to do, keeps me from making mistakes.” He generally called it `professionalism' but he didn't think his princess would appreciate that viewpoint at the moment. If she still wanted to know about it later, they could talk, but for now it was good to know that if he did it he was going to remind her of Heero Yuy… That was probably why she had been so odd after she spotted him, she had been trying to take away the surreal quality of what memories had been running rampant in her head.

 

Dorothy handed her a bottle of water which she respectfully tried to drink, but barely got into it before it seemed a bad idea, as she was only a minute or two away from passing out. It wasn't too long before the other woman decided sleep was a good idea too, and before long, he was left as the only one to keep watch and consider what was happening… And that was how he liked it generally, so it wasn't a bad way to kill time in this relative safety until they could contact a friend. With everything happening, he wasn't entirely sure who he trusted beyond his oldest, closest friend, and with Relena's safety in the gamble, he wasn't going to take a chance with anyone else.

 

-

***

-

 

November 24th 197 - Friday - Early Morning - Brussels - Upper Levels - Control Room #3

It had taken hours to secure the vital areas and prevent what damage they could… if he was to be honest with himself, Milliardo had to admit that only pure force of will and drive was keeping him from collapsing and immediately falling asleep. He could not afford for that great a sign of weakness however, so he just had to wrap this up as quickly as they could, make sense of what was available and be able to play it down for the media once they arrived on scene. He was positive that the majority of the attackers had been sequestered in cells, and those still loose were either going to be caught soon or slip unnoticed through any security checks, as they could just as easily be loyal personnel.

 

They had been lucky, though… it was relatively easy to face what enemy had entered the compound as it happened, but if that kid with utter respect for duct tape hadn't woken up and slammed down all the gates against more intruders, it might have been a different story. Once they realized they weren't going to be let in, the men and machines outside had made a quick retreat and were long gone by the time there was the time and resources to actually go after them.

 

There was at this point, no sign whatsoever of Relena or Dorothy, which hopefully meant that Miller had managed to evacuate them, and there was a chance of keeping that, at least, out of the press. That was a small mercy, at least, but he wasn't going to truly ease his mind on the subject until he heard back from her, hopefully back in Germany by now…

 

All hope of that vanished, however, as Mitchell stormed into the makeshift meeting in the control room holding up his cell. “Colonel Miller is on Level 4 in Reconstruction with the princess and Romefeller heiress, holding out in the back closet of an office. They need clean clothes for the heiress and medical assistance for the Miss Peacecraft; they controlled the bleeding, but she's had a bullet in her arm since about 2400 hours and requires surgery.”

 

And that killed any chance of this being kept somewhat quiet in the media.

-

-

-

-

The random stuff with Duo and Melissa is highly reminiscent of my fiancé and I when one of us is sleep-deprived… although note that he's usually the clingy one… who can't keep his hands off chocolate when I'm not a big fan… or who loves jewelry and stuffed animals… In most of the cliché senses I'm by far the more masculine, or something. My mom was giving me crap when we were going through magazines for dress ideas because I hate beading, I dislike most embroidery, and was saying for what felt like the millionth time that I didn't like complicated bullshit, I wanted clean lines, at which point she noted that someone was going to think this was a gay wedding… note that we were having this conversation at the physical therapist's and we continued on it with the therapist in there, and I just had to bite my tongue and start laughing when I mentioned my fiancé because I call him Mari (Yes, pronounced like Mary; it's a long story) and go, “Aw shit, someone is going to think it's a gay wedding…” Hell, my job last summer my coworkers all thought I was a dyke talking about my sweetheart Mari, for a month, before he came to bring me lunch one day.

 

…Though maybe not, most people think Niko is a guy's name… Maybe our friends were onto something when we started dating, noting that they weren't sure either of us were straight but maybe between us both being far `round the bend we just managed to go in a full circle…

 

Anyway… right, terribly sorry for the lateness, and I hope you enjoyed it. I tried to make up for some of the time by the fact that it's certainly not a short chapter… I think I need one more to wrap up the last plot point before the epilogue, and we're good to go.