Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Side of Angels ❯ Chapter 1

The Side of Angels

By Red Pearl

Chapter One

The Angels Headquarters was a huge, metal, underground complex, impervious to attack from every side. A self-contained compound that included both the operation sections and personnel quarters, and every corner inside the complex - with the exception of Lady Une's office - was monitored 24 hours a day.

The large monitor room was filled with state of arts audio and video electronic equipment, dozens of monitors showing pictures of everyday activities going on all across the HQ. Lady Une had always considered this room an indispensable part of the Angels, a place where she could track and watch all her agents' every move.

Tapping on one tech's shoulder, she ordered, "Show me how our little Dragon is doing."

The screen in front of her flickered into a bathroom, a young Chinese boy standing under the down pouring water, his hands braced against the shower wall, head tilted back, eyes closed, facing the spray.

"He's been in there for 45 minutes, your Ladyship."

Washing away your sins, little Dragon? Une mused in amusement. Taking in the sight of the small but perfectly proportioned body, rivulets of water cascading down the sculpted chest, the flat abdomen and the leanly muscled thighs.

A beautiful body to be sure, the skin was flawless, Une had made sure of that. When Wufei first joined the Angels, Une had all scars and distinguishing marks removed from his body - as was with all her operatives - except for one small scar on his left wrist, which she judged would make him appear more pitiable and interesting to his targets.

But for now Wufei had enough time to wallowing in self-loathing. It was never good to let an operative think too much.

"Buzz him."

The tech did as he was ordered.

On screen Wufei jerked as if he had been slapped, furious dark eyes glared into the camera.

So much fire in that boy.

Une smiled to herself.

"Conference room 02. Five minutes."

This was perfect.

----------

This whole massive underground complex was built along utilitarian lines, a liberal use of glass and metal gave the place a high-tech, minimalist look. The conference room was no exception. The walls are white without decorations except for the large screen, a huge conference table dominated the room.

Exactly five minutes later, Lady Une resided at the head of the table, four of her best operatives seated on each side of her, Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Chang Wufei and Trowa Barton.

All were siting still and silent except for Duo.

Duo pulled his chair out, perching on a corner of his seat, one foot tapping on the table incessantly, large violet eyes darting from left and right, taking in everything, as if he hadn't seen the room hundreds of times before. Feeling Une's eyes on him, he turned, gave her a cheeky grin and a wink.

She bet teenage girls fell over themselves for that grin.

Of all her operatives, Duo was the only one who acted like a teenager most of the time; the others all act far older than their age. But their behaviours were normal giving the circumstances; Duo's was not.

He was wearing a black priestly outfit, which contrasted nicely with his pale skin, his long chestnut braid hanging down his back. She wondered what it would take for him cut that braid - she didn't really want to, of course, it added to the boy's appeal, therefore quite useful - but it was also a symbol of a past that still held too much power over him, and that could not be allowed.

Could she break that hold without breaking him completely? She doubted it, although at times she suspected that Duo was teetering on the edge of sanity already.

Wufei was dressed impeccably in a blue tank top and loose white pants, all the earlier anger gone without a trace, leaving his face calm and serene. If weren't for still wet hair, nothing would have shown that he had just been dragged out in middle of a shower.

He had done well in his last mission and, despite his distaste, had performed admirably. Tsubarov, the world-renown scientist and engineer, inventor of a revolutionary new weapon, was dead in his luxurious home. His plan to sell his new invention to the highest bidder in a secret conference was dead with him. Now all they had to do was make sure the data on the new weapon didn't get out.

The peace of the world was always hanging on a fragile balance, and any slight change in the power structure could have a devastating effect. The destructive power of Tsubarov's new machines alarmed her, these machines had the power to turn the tides of wars, there were always men eager to have such power in their hands.

Une began without preamble, "We all know Tsubarov built a new weapon. Now we have detailed data on how deadly the new weapon actually is."

She clicked the remote control in her hand, and the large screen on the wall flickered to life. She showed them the video clip of the test for these new 'Mobile Suits'. The giant man-controlled robot decimated everything in sight in a just a few seconds. All that left was just so much debris.

Everyone was quiet after that demonstration.

"Luckily, Wufei had erased all the data on these Mobile Suits on Tsubarov's computer, and the only other place that has a copy of the blue prints are the facility that built the prototype."

She showed them the details to the facility and assigned Heero to take an assault team and destroy it completely.

Heero was a good team leader. He had the training and skill required of the job, he could plan strategies, he could also think on his feet and he was cool under fire. His team-mates trusted his abilities, despite his young age.

A perfect soldier. A merciless killing machine, trained since childhood. She could trust Heero to focus on a mission to the exclusion of all else. He would never let doubts or emotions clouds his judgement. Heero was invaluable to her.

And she was proud of him, all of them.

They were her weapons against the world.

"Good, with these measures, we could push the development of Mobile Suits back ten years at least," she said with the satisfaction of a job well done.

"I doubt we would have that long," Wufei disagreed.

Une frowned, looking towards Wufei, giving him her full attention, "Why not?"

"I have seen the blue prints for these Mobile Suits. The science of it was not difficult, not by today's standards. In two or three years, other scientists will have successfully built something along the same lines."

Wufei was probably right, Une knew. Wufei had a remarkable mind, and if he believed that other scientist would soon follow Tsubarov's steps, then it was a good chance that they would.

"Then we will have to satisfy ourselves with however long we have," she commented coolly, "and take care of it when the problem arises again."

She stood up, walking around the table, "Now, with Tsubarov's death, we have some breathing room at least. The factions behind Tsubarov's project would be suspicious of the timing of the death, but I'm confident they could not prove foul play. In that regard, the case is closed. Now let's move on to the next matter…"

She clicked the remote again, the screen changed into the picture of a ginger-haired young man in a OZ officer's uniform.

"I'm sure you all know who this is."

"Treize Khushrenada, the OZ General." Heero replied.

"The sexy one," Duo piped up.

Une gave him a sharp look, Duo had been acting more and more uncontrollable of late. She would have curb this tendency soon before something drastic had to be done.

She hated losing valuable operatives, no matter how obnoxious they are.

"We have information connecting him with terrorists activities in mid-Eastern countries, some even suggested that he supplied weapons and man power to support their cause, in the hope of provoking a war."

"In which case, Oz would step in to take over, all in the name of keeping peace." Wufei theorised, frowning slightly.

Une nodded, "That's the presumption. However, the intelligence reports are not conclusive, and removing someone like Khushrenada is quite a big step. We need to be sure."

"Unlike in other cases where we just eliminate all possibilities," Wufei remarked with no little disgust.

Wufei was a fine operative, but his ethical sensibilities could get tiring, more importantly, they could get in the way of the job. She would have do something about that too.

"Your mission is to befriend Khushrenada, find a way into his home, find the proof of his guilt - or innocence - report back, and wait for further instructions. You have ten days to prepare."

Wufei's body tensed, but only for a second, then he forced himself to relax again, "I was scheduled for downtime."

It was no secret that Wufei hated these types of assignments, he much preferred the more straightforward method of locate-and-destroy, the type of assignments that Heero was usually sent on. But Heero was a better soldier than he was a lover, while Wufei's surprising acting abilities and exotic good looks kept him in covert operations.

"It's been postponed. This mission is important and you're the best candidate for the job," Une said coldly, signalling that the topic was closed.

"Hey, if Wu-man doesn't want to do it, I'll do it. I'd love a chance at General Sexy," Duo protested, swing his chair to face Une, eagerness all over his expressive face.

Wufei didn't even glance at Duo, looking straight at Une, "I'm sure Maxwell would do just fine."

Annoyed, Une took off her glasses, gave him a slow measuring look, taking in the dark glossy hair, the almond shaped eyes, the caramel coloured skin, and fought back a smile as she saw anger flare in those black eyes and the pretty carmine lips compress into a harsh line.

"Oh, yes, Duo is quite capable. You're both my best agents. But some men find your exotic looks are more - how shall we say it - appetising," she almost purred out the words.

Une was gratified to see Wufei visibly battle down his anger, and compose his face into an impassive mask once again, but those dark eyes were still burning with anger. Une smiled. Oh, yes, Wufei was one of her best operatives, but he still had a long way to go yet.

She walked back to her chair and sat down, pushing the folder on the desk towards him, "There you are. All the information we collected on Khushrenada, your mission details, plus the usual infiltration package including your name, identifications and backgrounds."

She watched with satisfaction as Wufei reluctantly took the folder.

Une continued the meeting, showing an another clip on the kidnapping of Quatre Raberba Winner.

Quatre was the only heir of the Sultan of Winner Kingdom. His mother was Engllish, which was part of the reason why he was sent to an English boarding school. He was kidnapped three days ago, just before he was scheduled to arrive in the Sank Kingdom for his betrothal with Relena Peacecraft, Princess of the Sank Kingdom.

Both the Winner and Peacecraft families were well known for their total pacifism philosophies, and the two Royal houses has been negotiating an alliance for some time. The engagement was to cement the treaty between these two countries and Une had no doubt that there were plenty of parties wanting to prevent this alliance.

The terrorists were allegedly linked to OZ. If that was true, then the situation was even more complicated than it appeared.

She assigned Trowa to infiltrate the terrorists group and rescue the young Winner heir.

Trowa accepted the mission without any argument, taking the folder and going through it at once. His long bang hiding half his face, the one visible emerald eye locked in concentration. Trowa was the tallest of the four, all long elegant lines and quiet grace, an beauty understated.

He was also the most dependable of her operatives, she might not always know what he was thinking, but she was always confident that he would follow orders. He always performed to the best of his abilities and he never quibbled about what needed to be done in order to successfully complete a mission.

"What about me?" Duo complained, "I don't have anything to do."

"You'll join Princess Relena's personal guards. We don't want a repeat performance."

Duo didn't seem to be very happy getting a baby-sitting job, but he made no further protests.

"That's all for today. Dismissed."

----------

The first impression of Wufei's room was an overwhelming whiteness. White painted walls, soft white carpets, cream coloured standard furniture, even the sheets on his beds were white. The only thing lent the room a splash of colour was the sky blue coverlet on his bed, a gift from Sally.

Wufei had kept his room thus more from a lack of desire to redecorate rather than an overt fondness for the colour white. After all, everything was functional, even comfortable, what was the point of changing.

Logging on his computer, Wufei carefully went over the data for his upcoming mission.

<Treize Khushrenada>

A fascinating man to be sure.

He was young - younger than most people would expect him to be; handsome - even with those strange eyebrows; ginger hair, blue eyes - the colour of cornflower; and by all counts, a person of great charm and charisma.

He was born an aristocrat, with powerful connections, his rise in the military was swift and sure, but that was due more to his capabilities than to his connections. Certainly no one disputes that he was a very intelligent man, he would have to be to be the leader of OZ. He commanded respect and loyalty from his soldiers like no one else ever had. They would follow him into Hell without hesitation.

That was what made him most dangerous.

With the power of the military behind him, he could wreck havoc in the world if he was so wished.

But did he wish to?

The data they gathered on Khushrenada was extensive, everything from his childhood illnesses to his rumoured affair with Milliard Peacecraft - the Crown Prince of Sank Kingdom; from his favourite book of poetry to the rose fragrance he used for his bath.

But it did not tell Wufei if he was a man who would throw the world into chaos to fulfil his personal ambition. Wufei was familiar with powerful men who wanted to force their personal vision for the future on the world, usually with themselves at the centre. Was Treize Khushrenada one of those men?

Lady Une was right to be cautious. In mishandling this affair, the results could be devastating.

Wufei went over the data again, making notes over the important points. He came across the Sank Prince and Khushrenada's relationship again, and he made a note to get more details, most of the materials that had been gathered were mere hearsay, the two principal characters were obviously very discrete; understandable in their positions.

He still didn't understand why Une insisted that he'd be perfect for this job, he couldn't see any similarity between himself and the beautiful Sank Prince at all.

Trowa would have been a better choice.

He took out the disk that contained the information on Khushrenada, and popped the one with his infiltration package in.

And there it was, on the first page, the reason Une chose him to play this little charade…

Name: Chang Wufei.

Occupation: Art Student.

He must have stared at that page for a full minute, only numbly aware of the slow burning anger rising inside of him, the dull roar in his ears, the red haze of anger blurring his vision. But that was good, the anger was comforting in its familiarity and much more welcoming than the sharp pain of remembrance and loss.

Wufei stood up abruptly.

Une would not do this.

He would march into her office and point a sword at her neck, he would cut her head off before he played her demented little game.

----------

Une was not at all surprised to see Wufei burst into in her office, thunderclouds in his wake, nor was she surprised at the flashing of a sharp blade stopped barely at her neck.

He slapped the Khushrenada folder down on her desk.

"EXPLAIN!" Every letter of the word was capital.

Une leaned back in her chair, careful not make any threatening moves - she was facing a trained assassin after all - and not pretending not knowing what Wufei was talking about, "It was required by the mission, I'm afraid you have no choice in this matter," she said calmly.

"Then I'd have no other choice but to kill you," the words were stated with firm conviction, Wufei's face was stone-like in its resolution. Une had no doubt that he would carry out his threat.

If she pushed him too far.

But Une knew how much and how far she could push her operatives, she had played this game before.

And she always won.

Wufei wouldn't kill her in cold blood - no matter how much he wanted to - if she could persuade him that she was right. It was that chink in his armour, that belief in honour and sacrifice, that overdeveloped sense of duty of his that was going to be her ally in this round.

"This mission is vitally important. Khushrenada has to be handled carefully. Or the result could be disastrous…"

"I know very well how important this mission is," Wufei interrupted her impatiently, fingers tightened on the grip of his sword, every muscle of his body tense with suppressed rage.

Even now he was beautiful, feral and devastating in his anger, a dangerous dragon one second away from tearing his enemy apart.

How could he be anything but perfect for this mission?

Une kept her eyes on his face, her statement was still characteristically calm.

"Then you know the cover has to be perfect. Khushrenada is a shrewd man, he would detect falsehood. And since you are the only one who could gain his interest…"

"But why?" Wufei asked, genuinely perplexed, "I read his files. I'm nothing like his last lover. You have a better chance sending in Trowa."

"Because I know him," she pinned him with her eyes, "trust me when I tell you that Treize wouldn't be able to resist you."

And Treize wouldn't have. Such a delightful contradiction of strength and vulnerability; confidence and insecurity; cynicism and naivety. No, Treize wouldn't be able to resist him at all.

"Trust my judgement," she said it with all the sincerity and conviction she could muster, "I wouldn't steer you wrong. Not in this."

And he did. Trust her. She could see it in his eyes. He believed her.

Une was dismayed. It was inconceivable. Even after all he had been through, after all she had done to him, he could still take her at her words.

Had she taught him nothing at all?

"The most perfect cover are the ones based on truth," she explained in her most reasonable voice, "You are a painter, a talented one by all accounts; Khushrenada is a well-known patron of art. A beautiful young painter is bound to rouse his interest. You will have enough of common interest with him to build a friendship, and, at the same time are also far enough from his military and political activities to make him feel relaxed and comfortable in your company."

"I am *not* a painter. I haven't touched a paint brush in years," but Wufei's words had lost their ferocity, she could see him wavering, the tension in his body changed subtly.

"But you *are*. Even if you never paint again. I do not give you these assignments to torture you, Wufei, I give them to you because they have to be done. And you are the only one who could do this."

The only one who could do this.

The dark eyes widened on hearing that, chaotic emotions running through the depth, one after another, dismay, disbelief, anger, refusal, helplessness… and resignation.

"Now, do you still intend to kill me," she gestured to the sword still poised at her neck, "or have you decided to accept the mission?"

"Is there no other way?" Wufei asked, dark eyes wide and vulnerable. He didn't plead, he never would, but his eyes were open windows to his soul, revealing all the turbulent emotions inside him.

"There are plenty of other ways, but this is the best way."

Wufei complied, like she knew he would. Lowering his sword, he suddenly looked younger, fragile, like a lost little boy.

Her voice softened, there was no need to beat a man after you had already won, "I know it often doesn't seems like it, Wufei," she assured him, "but you *are* fighting on the side of the angels."

Wufei gave her a small, humourless smile, "Of course, how could I ever forget?"

He walked out, closing the door behind him.

----------

Back from Une's office, Wufei was greeted with the sight of boxes of art supplies delivered in his absence. Whatever else they might be, Angels' personnel were always efficient.

Efficient and thorough, littered in his room was everything he would ever need to pursue an artistic career, from drawing table, portable easel and folding seat to different kinds of brushes, oil and watercolour paints, solvents, pastels, colour pencils, to drawing pads, palettes, papers, canvases, linens… He could open an Art Supply shop in his room.

He didn't want to look at them, didn't want to touch them, they remained him too much of what he had lost, what he could never have again.

The last time he touched a brush was a lifetime ago, before his hand was stained with blood. He had made a choice then, as he told himself hundreds of times since, there was no going back now.

After all, killers did not paint.

He no longer saw the world through rose-tinted glasses of that aspiring young artist, he saw too clearly the cruelty of the life, of the lies and deceits and double-crossing games played out by people everyday.

He had learned that the world was full of monsters, that Heaven was merciless and Angels' wings were dipped with blood.

How could he paint now? When all he could draw were ghosts and demons.

Someone buzzed on his door, Wufei frowned, only two people would impose on his self-imposed solitude, and Une would just call him to her office.

"Come in."

Sally Po walked in. Wufei didn't feel like company right now, but Sally was his friend. The only one he had.

She took in the state of his room, lifting one eyebrow, "Getting a new hobby?"

Wufei shrugged, "It's for the new mission."

He kept his voice carefully neutral, but something must have alerted her, because she looked at him closely, deciding something wasn't right, she asked, "Do you wanted to take a walk?"

At least a walk would get him out of this room, Wufei agreed. They went to an abandoned storage room they often used when they needed privacy, one of the few places in this underground complex that was deemed too unimportant to be put under constant surveillance.

Wufei sat down against the wall, hugging his knees with his arms, head down, staring into the water stained floor. Sally sat down beside him. She waited patiently for him to speak.

"I used to paint," Wufei finally broke the silence.

Use to? She supposed they all had things they used to do before joining Angels, but Wufei said it as if he was breaking a secret. It must have been important to him. More than a hobby.

"I was good at it. At least I believed so. I used to think that I could make something… lasting… something that won't be forgotten after I was gone…" he almost choked, "but that was before."

There was no need to ask before what, Sally covered his hand with hers, offering support. Wufei turned his wrist, catching her hand inside of his. His eyes stayed on their linked hands as he continued to speak.

"You know all the times I practised my katas, all I thought of the was the perfection of the form, the harmony of body and motion. The sword was art for me, as much as painting was." He laughed bitterly, "I had forgotten the purpose for such a weapon. I had forgotten it was made for killing."

Sally's heart sank, she could hear the next words came out of his mouth.

"…untill I killed with it."

He leaned back against the wall, looking weary beyond his years, "Now I can't pick up a sword without seeing blood."

Sally's heart went out to the boy. The best part of Wufei was his humanity, his conscience, that in spite all that he been through, he still had a noble heart. But it also tortured him incessantly with guilt and doubts, never gave him a moment's peace.

She had seen him when he was doing his katas, he was beauty in motion, he moved as though he was made of the whirlwind, swift and fierce, a force of nature. Not something that could be contained, or should be contained.

"But you still practice with it," Sally ventured.

"Because now it's just another form of combat," Wufei shrugged, "it's no longer…noble."

And it used to matter so much to him. Honour. Nobility. Justice.

"You don't think you should paint again, do you?"

"How could I?" Wufei asked, "When I see the world, I no longer see the beauty in it, all I see is deceit, betrayal, the ugliness of human nature. How can I create beauty when I no longer believe in it."

"You don't have to paint about beauty, just what you see is true," Sally protested.

Wufei face set in a grim line, "Beauty and Truth, I used to believe they're the same thing."

How could he paint again? He was no longer that person, the person that dreamed, believed, the person that was innocent, worthy.

How could he taint something he once loved so much.

Sally watched the playing of emotions on her friends face. She sighed to herself, how do you help someone who didn't believe he was worth helping? You force them accept your help.

She hugged the boy, hard, crashing him in her arms, "You're not a monster, Wufei," she whispered fiercely in his ears, "someday you will believe me when I tell you that. Perhaps this mission is a blessing in disguise, it'll make you see that you didn't lose yourself. Not completely."

Make you see the truth before Une destroyed the your soul with her games and lies.

Wufei hugged her back, just as fiercely, his whispers were so soft she wasn't sure she heard them.

"I hope so."

I hope so.

End of Chapter One.

Note: Angels was modelled after the Section in LFN.