Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Theories of Revolution and Affairs of the Heart ❯ Misdirection ( Chapter 6 )

Locked inside an OZ cell, Quatre Reberba Winner was currently cursing his stupidity. He'd broken his perfect track record. It was one of the few things that he'd been able to claim with pride among their small brotherhood of Gundam pilots. Now what would he have to claim? That he hadn't self-destructed as much as Heero? Quatre snorted. Duo had been captured the most, but he had a gift for getting free. Quatre didn't have a clue how to go about it. The only saving grace was that Sandrock hadn't been captured at the same time. Hopefully, his precious Gundam was still well hidden.

Quatre looked at the small, featureless cell. OZ had no imagination for military buildings. His eyes went to the cell door and he noted the two guards outside. It was kind of flattering that he rated guards. Then he noticed they were talking. Maybe he could get some inside intelligence out of this. So that when he was given a hard time later, he could claim it had been done on purpose.

Voices floated in. The guards were doing a bad job of whispering.

"Hey Karl, did you hear about what Lieutenant Zechs did today?"

"No. What was it? And don't tease me this time, Steven, and draw it out forever."

"Lieutenant Zechs slept with the enemy! It may have been a Gundam pilot, but there's no confirmation." Steven laughed. "Isn't that a riot!"

Karl laughed, too. "Lucky bastard. I've seen some of the intel pics of the Gundam pilots. Even in a grainy black and white, they're pretty hot."

Inside the cell, Quatre gasped quietly. Heero and Duo had been on a mission today, also. Could one of them have been captured, too?

"Yeah, they sure are. And he didn't even force it on 'im. I hear the PILOT was the one who started it, though I don't know all the details."

"The PILOT started it?! Damn, I wouldn't mind being seduced by the enemy like that." Karl's tone was envious. "I think 01 or 02... 04 looks too young for 15."

Steven chuckled. "Yeah. Especially the hair on that 02. And 05's alright, if he let his hair down. And 03 would be hot too, but he hides behind that weird bangs thing he's got goin'. Hell, they're all good lookin' though. But why'd we have to get the kiddy one? Anyway, I heard it was pilot 02 that the lieutenant was with. Yeah, 02."

'Kiddy one?! I suppose I should be glad I'm not a sex object for OZ lackeys,' Quatre thought in an attempt to soothe his ego. Then the last part of the guard's statement sank in. 'Duo?! Duo seduced Zechs? Oh my god...'

"About getting 04... we're unlucky, I guess." Karl sighed. "So, how'd the pilot get away from Lieutenant Zechs?"

"Apparently, he suited Lieutenant's fancy enough that he let him home free." Steven snorted. "Can you believe that?"

"That good? Nah, no one's that good."

"Well, 02 is that good and beyond, apparently. I've heard he gets captured a lot, so we'll just hope we're stationed at the same base next time he gets captured. Then we'll get... guard duty." Steven laughed loudly. "Right Karl?"

"Sure..." Karl said. Then they both fell silent. Quatre didn't even want to know why.

***

Une looked at herself in the mirror. Deciding that she looked presentable, and that there was no sign of her... viewing of the blackmail video... she left her room and went down to the prison cells. Soon, she found the cell she wanted, and looked in through the small barred window on the door.

The small blonde who was Pilot 04 was sitting quietly against the wall, apparently deep in thought. Une would have thought him perfectly calm, except that she could see him worry his bottom lip and close his eyes briefly against whatever he was thinking.

"04," she said sternly as she opened the door, illuminating the cell faintly with the dim light behind her. She pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. "I know you've been disarmed, but you are a Gundam pilot. I can't go underestimating you, now can I? Come with me."

Quatre rose gracefully to his feet, and nodded graciously. "Of course, Lady Une."

She stepped out into the hallway, keeping the gun trained on the doorway. When he stepped out of the cell, she pointed without a word, clearly indicating that he was to walk. He did, with her following behind, keeping him at gunpoint.

Quatre kept silent as he went where Lady Une directed, but his mind was racing. He didn't doubt that Lady Une would shoot him if he tried to escape, so he had to bide his time until the proper opportunity presented itself. The thought that it might not happen was one he chose not to acknowledge.

Une shoved him through a suddenly open door, shutting it and locking it behind them. She pushed the gun to the side of his head with one hand, and pushed him against the wall with the other hand. Then she moved the gun to his forehead, pressing it into the skin there. One arm was lifted above his head, the wrist then enclosed in a band of cold metal. His other arm and wrist soon met the same fate.

Quatre looked at Lady Une with more calmness than he actually felt. He didn't think Lady Une would actually hurt him. Treize probably wouldn't be pleased, and Lady Une seemed to live to serve, where Treize was concerned. So he just had to wait, and not give anything up.

"Well, aren't you determined?" Une scowled. "Wipe that haughty look off your face, 04!" She slapped him hard, knocking his head to the side, leaving a red handprint.

Quatre remained silent, but to avoid further abuse, he forced himself to look at her blankly.

"That's better. Now, care to tell me why you're here?" Une stepped back, glaring at him demeaningly.

"Not really." Quatre answered pleasantly, knowing it would upset Lady Une, but he really couldn't help it. There always had been a slightly wicked side to him.

She glared more. "Oh, aren't you cute," she sneered. "Do you value the use of your left leg? Then you'll answer me. Why are you here? What's your mission?" To prove her point, she aimed the gun directly at Quatre's kneecap. She was across the room, but it was obvious to both that her aim was deadly accurate.

Quatre looked at her, reaching out with his space heart to tell if she was serious. He didn't think he could take the chance. An injury to his leg like that could take him out of the war for too long. He sighed. "It was a recon mission."

"And?" The gun didn't waver.

"I wasn't able to complete the mission before I was captured." Quatre purposely misunderstood.

"Playing games?" She fired a warning shot that grazed the outside of his pant leg, leaving a small hole. It sank into the wall mere centimeters from his leg. "AND?"

Quatre made calm eye contact and raised his eyebrows. "Would his Excellency be pleased if you actually shoot me? I know that he's had... issues with your methods before."

She resisted the sudden urge to just shoot him and kill him. "As long as I don't kill you. What he *wants* is the information. If you're alive, it doesn't matter. Now stop stalling."

"Then stop asking open-ended questions, Lady Une. I can't read your mind." Inwardly Quatre cringed. He knew that sooner or later, he was either going to have to start lying or end up getting hurt, because he refused to betray his friends.

"Where are the other pilots, and who gave you your orders?" she snapped. "Don't get cute with me."

"I don't know where the other pilots are." Before Lady Une accused him of being a smart aleck again, he quickly added, "We don't share for exactly this reason." He spread his fingers indicating his capture.

She scowled. "Was anyone else on the mission, then?"

"No."

"Who gave you your orders?" She had a feeling that he was lying about being alone on the mission, but she would let it pass for the time being.

"I don't know the name." Quatre sighed.

"I doubt that."

"It's true," he protested, wondering why he was believed the least when he was telling the most truth. He truly didn't know the doctor's name. He was only an initial. "I was never told."

She snorted slightly. "No, I didn't think you would. But it's one of those doctors, I assume. Which one is it?"

"If you already know who they are, what does it matter? Besides, I already told you, I don't know WHO they are." He was trying to change the subject, but he knew it was a clumsy attempt, at best. He just hoped that it might work.

"Well, tell me what yours looks like!"

Quatre briefly debated whether to try and pretend he'd never seen him, or to lie. She probably wouldn't buy playing dumb. Now he just had to hope his acting skills were up to the task. He was beginning to understand why Duo hated lying. He spoke slowly, to feign reluctance. "He's..." A pause, as if he was fighting with his morals, "a large man, tall."

Mentally, Une crossed off three of the doctors from her photographic list. That left the tall bald one or the one with the strange plastic covering his nose. "Is he bald?"

Quatre paused again, silent for a long moment while inwardly he rejoiced. 'She bought it!' Then in a small whisper he answered, "Yes."

She peered at him closely. "No he isn't," she said decisively. "That was a lie. Nice try, 04. I'll find this doctor immediately." She turned on her heel and left the room, shutting and locking the door behind her.

Quatre sagged with relief against his shackles. Well, she'd accepted the lie. He was off the hook. Though, Quatre wasn't happy that he might have inadvertently put one of the other doctors in danger. They might be a rather unpleasant group of men, but Quatre didn't wish any people ill. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what Une might do. She was rather volatile, to say the least. Only Treize was able to keep her in check, but he didn't really keep her on a tight enough leash to do that. Quatre chuckled, and in the process pulled lightly on his raised arms. He hissed at the sudden muscle ache and realized he been standing here, his arms chained to the wall, for quite some time. Oh, to have Duo's talent at getting out of handcuffs.

"Quatre," a voice said quietly outside the door. "Can you hear me? It's Trowa."

"Trowa?" Quatre felt a wave of relief so strong his knees sagged.

"Quatre, get away from the door if you're near it. I'm about to blow it up."

"Um... Trowa, I'm near the door. Definitely near the door."

There was a short silence. Then, "So why... don't you move?" Trowa's raised eyebrow was obvious enough to be sensed through the door.

"Because I'm..." Quatre blushed within the solitude of the room, then finished in a rush. "Chained to the wall."

Trowa stifled a cough. "Well... I have to blow up the door. You won't die." He placed the bomb in front of the door and dove for cover.

"TROWA!" Quatre gasped in shock as he realized the bomb had been set. He turned his face as away from the door as he could, trying to steel himself for the blast. He still jumped at the concussion of the explosion, biting back a cry as he felt a sharp pain in his leg. Glancing down, he saw a shard of metal embedded in his thigh, just above the knee. "Oh, of course. I manage to avoid getting shot in the knee, so friendly fire shards get me instead. Greeeat."

Trowa ran into the room, surveying the room and the damage. Seeing Quatre, he ran over and broke the chains holding the shackles, letting Quatre free. Eyeing the shard in Quatre's right leg, he slung one of Quatre's arms around his shoulders and said, "Can you walk?"

Quatre carefully tested the leg, leaning some weight on it. His mouth tightened, but he nodded.

Seeing Quatre's nod, Trowa ran out of the room, half-lifting Quatre, only making him use his leg when necessary. "I disposed of all the guards in the immediate area, but we're sure to run into more soon." He handed Quatre a gun. "You can use this. Your arms are fine. All right?"

"Sounds like a plan." Quatre wrapped his free hand firmly around the gun, then concentrated on watching for guards as he trusted Trowa to provide forward movement.

"There!" Trowa hissed, as half a dozen guards turned the corner in front of them, spotted them, and opened fire. Trowa fired four times and shot four of them, killing them instantly. Quatre took down the other two. "They'll have radioed in about our location before we shot them. Let's go!" Trowa took a side route, dashing down a new hallway, Quatre in tow.

They came to a dead end with a window. Looking down, they saw that it was too long a fall for even Heero Yuy to survive. "I hate to copy Heero and Duo from our first days on Earth, but..." Trowa said, opening his bag and producing two parachutes.

Quatre's eyes widened. He didn't fancy the landing, especially not with the shrapnel in his leg, but they didn't have a whole lot of options. "Let's do it."

Trowa handed him a parachute, fastening his own securely onto his back. He pushed the window open and jumped, knowing that Quatre would follow.

With a last quick scan of the corridor, Quatre followed Trowa's lead. He counted to four, then pulled the cord, his training kicking in without conscious thought. Quatre felt like he had everything under control until the ground came up quickly. He tried to land properly, but rolled onto the piece of shrapnel. His last thought as he lost consciousness was of Trowa. 'He's going to be so disappointed.'

Trowa landed in a squat, which forced him to forward roll a few times to slow his momentum to a safe level. He turned around just in time to see Quatre crash to the ground, rolling over the shard of metal, driving it deeper into his skin.

"Damn it!" Trowa muttered, scowling. He wasn't mad at Quatre; rather, he was mad at himself for making Quatre jump out the window in his condition. But they'd had no other choice. He walked over and picked Quatre up. It was time to get back home... wherever that was this week.

~OWARI~