Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Thin Red Line ❯ Four ( Chapter 4 )

Thin Red Line (4/6)

By Anne Olsen

Rating : This fic has been rated in accordance with the approved TTFF rating system.

OK (Oz/Kiwi spelling/grammar etc) - PG - Action, drama, angst, romance.

Author's notes: This story is part of the 'Triunity' canon based arc, which is a joint project with my partner in crime, Sakura Rose. For further information please visit the series archive at http://www.angelfire.com/ab7/shadesandechoes/triunity/triunity.html

The writing soundtrack for TRL is 'Thin Red Line' by Glass Tiger.

Pairings: 3x4, 1xR, 2x5

Summary: The shuttle transporting Relena, Quatre and Trowa to a political conference is hijacked in an endeavour to reveal the identity, and exact revenge, on a specific Gundam pilot. But it's five years after the Eve Wars, and people change. Or did they always have a predilection for attempting stupidly heroic things in the name of love and friendship?

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys and Relena in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any broken bones or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.

Thanks: To Sakura for many hours of plottage conversations, beta reading, the summary and the soundtrack. To Bast for beta reading, encouraging the … evil, and suggesting wonderful bloody solutions to certain problems. And to Anon for beta reading and fic stalking.

Comments to: anneo @ paradise.net.nz

Chapter Four

"Trowa, how tight are your restraints?" Trowa knew Quatre too well to be fooled by his calm tone. His husband was attempting to distract himself by focusing his strategy skills.

"Tight enough," Trowa stood and craned his neck in an attempt to reassess the situation. Maybe if he could…He twisted his wrist, pulled, and swore under his breath as the pain shot up his arm.

"Mine aren't any better," Quatre sighed from the other side of the room. He tugged at the chain attaching his handcuffs to the wall. "So much for my brilliant attempt at self sacrifice. All I've managed to do is sign your death warrant."

"It wasn't one of your brighter moments," Trowa agreed, weighing up options as he examined his cuffs again. If he could free even one hand, it would be enough.

"And I can't even blame the damn drug for that one," Quatre cursed and banged his chains against the wall. "You'd think our host would have been kind enough to at least lose the handcuffs so we could say our goodbyes properly."

"Kind enough to give us a sporting chance of escaping you mean?"

"Well, yeah. There must be some way of…" Quatre scowled. "I'm not going to let you die."

"I think this might work," Trowa flexed his right hand. It was going to hurt like hell, but was a much better option than a bullet through the head. Feeling his father's death during the war had driven Quatre over the edge; with the strength of the empathic link between them this would be a thousand times worse. There was no way he would leave Quatre in that living hell.

"Why do I know 'this' involves something I'm not going to like."

"Umm…"

"If anyone's going to take risks here it should be me." Quatre glared at him. "It's my fault we're in this mess."

"No." Trowa twisted himself upwards, so that his right hand was resting on his head. "I'm more flexible than you are. There's less chance of permanent damage if I do this."

"Permanent damage?" Quatre muttered something under his breath before sighing in resignation. "Just try to be careful."

"Hmm," Trowa focused his concentration on the task ahead. Bracing his arm against the wall, he grasped his right cuff firmly with his left hand. Gritting his teeth in readiness for the anticipated pain, he dislocated his right thumb and began pulling his hand through the cool steel.

Quatre winced, taking a sharp intake of breath at the loud crunch of breaking bone. Skin caught against metal and Trowa tried to focus on anything but the fire ripping through his hand.

Nearly got it. Just a bit more pressure…right…there. Although the blood was helping to lubricate it also made it difficult to keep a firm grip on the cuff. "Shit!" Trowa swore as his hand suddenly slid free of the restraint. "I'm okay," he reassured Quatre. "Hurts like hell, but…" Trowa didn't bother finishing the sentence. They were running out of time.

Now that one hand was free the cuffs slid easily from the chain securing them to the wall. Trowa hissed as he cradled his broken limb against his chest. Using his left hand he deftly retrieved the McGyver [1] he kept hidden in the waistband of his trousers. The Preventer issue Gundanium tool was broad and flat at one end, thick and round at the other and had a wicked edge. Duo had nicknamed it after he and Quatre had persuaded their partners to join them in watching the old vid series.

Picking up a rock to test its size, Trowa was thankful that no one had bothered to clear the room of rubble. "I can't do this with one hand," he told Quatre. "You're going to have to position the sharp end against the chains holding your cuffs to the wall while I use the rock as a hammer."

Quatre took the proffered tool that Trowa slipped between his fingers. Wriggling down the wall, he raised his hands as high above his head as he was able. Arranging the sharp end so that it was hard against the chains holding his handcuffs, he took a deep breath and gave Trowa a nod. The look in his eyes reminded Trowa of the time he'd played target to Trowa's knife throwing at the circus when Cathy had taken a well-deserved break.

He trusts me, Trowa thought.

A few well-aimed strikes and Quatre was able to pull his handcuffs free from what was left of the links of metal chain. Trowa dropped the rock, ignoring the backlash of pain caused by the vibration of rock against metal. They had to move quickly; it was surprising no one had investigated the noise.

Twisting his body, Quatre brought his shackled hands down to waist level and flexed his arms. "Much better," he sighed, moving over to inspect the door. "I can manage this without your help; you need to protect your hand."

The hinges were rusty and Quatre made short work of them using the McGyver even though it was awkward with the cuffs still around his wrists. Before breaking the last one, he gave Trowa a light kiss on the lips. "For luck," he explained. "Let's make these idiots regret taking on a couple of Gundam pilots."

*****

It had been surprisingly easy to breach the almost non-existent security of the former mobile suit factory. Heero's assumption had been correct as to the location of the missing shuttle, and once he'd approached Corsica he'd had no problems finding it.

"Very sloppy," he muttered, glancing at the unconscious men at his feet. Surely they would have taken better precautions after snatching two Gundam pilots? Or were they so sure of themselves that they hadn't anticipated someone discovering their whereabouts? Whatever the reason, it was to their detriment. Heero seated himself at the security console and reviewed the base schematics.

This was one of the few buildings left standing, and the only one presently occupied. The area had long been abandoned, even before the end of the war. According to the information on the screen there were two possibilities as to where the prisoners might be held.

Heero headed for the door of the communications room. He wasn't in the mood to deal with any crap; his priority was finding Relena and their friends. If this Walker had harmed them or his unborn child, he'd ensure she didn't live to regret it.

The sound of voices came from outside the room and he ducked behind the open door, his gun firmly grasped in both hands. Even though it had been several years since the war, he hadn't lost his finely honed skills. Years of conditioning had made them instinct, despite his reluctance to kill. The mission was his focus; nothing could be allowed to distract him, just as nothing or no one would be allowed to stand in the way of the safety of his family and friends. In threatening his loved ones, these idiots had signed their own death warrants. On some level he hoped someone would be stupid enough to challenge him.

The men kept walking, unaware of how close they had come to death. They passed Heero without even a glance in his direction.

Deciding to investigate the ground level option first, Heero left the communications room, crossed the corridor and entered what had once been the downstairs holding cell area. A few commands entered into the handheld jamming device in the back pocket of his jeans made short work of the surveillance camera. He snorted as he fed a continuous loop of footage into the system. These people were either amateurs or had underestimated the capabilities of their enemy. The survival rate of those who had previously made that mistake was virtually non existent.

The cell at the end of the block was the only one locked; it took him less than a minute to get the door open. He entered cautiously, gun aimed towards any potential opponents, his weight on the balls of his feet in case he had to take sudden action.

"Heero…" The look of relief on Relena's face was echoed by the tone in her voice, although she didn't completely manage to hide her initial fear. Noticing her hands were bound behind her, Heero fought to control his anger. It was fortunate for those responsible that she appeared to be unharmed.

Urging Relena to be silent, he checked that the cell was free of surveillance. It was. Heero frowned. This wasn't a good sign, and further verified his suspicions as to Walker's target.

"It's okay, I'm here." Heero holstered his gun and crossed the cell. He retrieved the McGyver tucked in his belt, cut through the ropes used to restrain her, and pulled her into his arms. She buried her head against his shoulder, leaning into the embrace, holding onto him as though she never wanted to let go. Their lips brushed against each other briefly, their eyes meeting in unspoken communication.

"I'm okay, Heero. I'm okay." Relena rubbed the small of his back. "We're both okay."

"Thank God," Heero whispered. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, her voice taking on an urgent tone. "Trowa and Quatre…"

"Where are they? Are they still...?" He couldn't bring himself to put his thoughts into words.

"She's going to kill Trowa. We have to get there before…" Relena's voice hitched before her words tumbled over each other in her rush to get them out. "Quatre killed her husband during the war, and she wants him to suffer the same way she did." She began pulling him towards the door. "She moved me in here to give them time alone to say goodbye but I don't know how much longer they've got. Oh Heero, the look on Quatre's face when she told him…"

Heero shushed her gently. "By she you mean Annabelle Walker?"

"We have to go, Heero." Relena pushed his finger away from her lips. "I don't think we've got much time."

"Does she know you're...?"

"Pregnant?" Relena shook her head. "I don't think so."

"If anything happens you can't let her know about the…about our baby." Relena stopped and stared at him, but there wasn't the surprise on her face he expected.

"I know, Heero, I know." Pain and sympathy twisted Relena's features. "Quatre wasn't only responsible for the death of her husband; she lost her unborn child as well." Heero took her hand in his and squeezed it. "As much as I think revenge isn't the answer, I'm not sure how I'd react if something happened to our baby."

"Nothing is going to happen to our baby," Heero kissed her gently. He didn't want to take her into danger, but considering Walker's presumed mental state, didn't dare leave her alone. I should have waited for backup. "You need to do exactly what I tell you and stay behind me. If we're going to save Trowa we have to move quickly. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Relena nodded. "Are Duo and Wufei in position yet?"

"No." Heero checked that the corridor was still empty before motioning Relena to follow him.

"Do they even know you're here?"

"No."

"Heero…" Relena gave an exasperated sigh. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Heero didn't see the point in wasting time denying the obvious. "I wasn't." He handed her his gun; there was no way she was going into a potentially dangerous situation without a weapon. "Use it only if you need to. And if you do, shoot to kill."

******

The men on guard were standing several feet from the now open door, their backs facing the two Gundam pilots. If the threat had been expected to come from outside, it was a mistake that would prove costly.

Quatre wrapped the chains of his handcuffs around the throat of the closest man and pulled tightly. Turning, the guard's companion launched himself at Trowa. A quick flick of Trowa's wrist and his would be opponent's gun hit the floor as the sharp end of the McGyver hit its target. Before the man had a chance to react to the object embedded in his hand, Trowa elbowed the man in the ribs and kneed him in the stomach, using the twin action to slam him into the wall and knock him out. Bending over to retrieve his weapon, Trowa glanced at Quatre. The other guard was sliding to the floor, unconscious, as Quatre released the pressure from around his throat.

"In a weird way I've missed this kind of action," Quatre admitted, keeping his voice low as he searched the downed man's pockets. "Damn. No keys." He tucked the guard's gun into the waistband of his trousers, and moved over to the man Trowa had taken out. "We need to get your hand wrapped and elevated." His frown turned to triumph as he displayed the keys dangling from his fingers. "Part of me wanted to kill them for what they've done, but that makes us no better than they are." Quatre sighed. "And I'm not sure I would have coped with the empathic kickback at this close range after that drug."

"That's what I thought," Trowa winced and bit his lip, fighting another wave of pain shooting through his hand as he bent to pick up the other gun from where it had been dropped.

"Wrapped and elevated. Now." Quatre freed his wrists from their restraints and then used the keys to release Trowa from the handcuffs still dangling from his good hand.

"Yes, sir." Trowa cocked the gun with his left hand, preparing himself to provide Quatre with cover so that he could concentrate on tending his injury.

"I always knew you had a thing for authority figures." Quatre removed his shirt and tie and gave Trowa a grin. He ripped his shirt into large pieces and began to wrap Trowa's right hand with the soft cotton fabric. "This may hurt a bit, but I'll be as gentle as I can, okay?"

"I trust you." Another wave of pain shifted Trowa's attention away from how good Quatre looked without his shirt.

Quatre finished his field dressing, and draped his tie around Trowa's neck. "Nearly done." After he'd used it as a makeshift sling he stood back to inspect his work. "Not perfect but it will have to do."

"Thank you," Trowa replied. He bent over and brushed his lips against Quatre's. "I do appreciate what you tried to do in there, but don't make a habit of it, okay?"

"I won't if you won't." Quatre returned the kiss. "Any ideas where they might be holding Relena? We need to find her before Mrs Walker…"

"I know." Trowa shook his head. After recognising the symptoms of Cathy's pregnancy and body language of those crucial early months, it hadn't been difficult to put two and two together. "I think I can remember where they took me for interrogation. Maybe…" He froze.

Someone was coming.

******

"Heero's definitely been here," Wufei remarked dryly, turning the bodies over for closer examination. Although there was no obvious sign of physical violence, the two guards manning the security system were out cold.

"Weird that no one's come to investigate. You'd think he would have drawn some attention to himself. Heero's not exactly known for his subtle approach and the bodies must be piling up by now."

"He's more than capable of subtle when he wants to be." Wufei turned his attention the security monitors. "See that there?" He pointed to footage of a nondescript corridor and seated himself in front of the screen.

Duo frowned. "Yeah," he watched the monitor for a moment, his frown turning into a grin, "it's been looped. Heero's been through there all right. Any idea where there is? All these damn corridors look the same. The last thing we need right now is to get lost in the middle of an old science fiction movie set."

One of the guards groaned. Duo delivered a swift blow to the back of his head and sent him back into unconsciousness. Shrugging in response to Wufei's raised eyebrow, he took a few steps forward to stand behind his lover. "Hey, we haven't got time to tie them up. You'd think Heero would've had the decency to save us the trouble, but he's too busy playing Lone Ranger."

"I've found something," Wufei announced. "Here," he keyed in a few more commands and brought up more of the base schematics, "in the old holding cells on the first floor." Two men lay sprawled on the ground, a heavy wooden door half off its hinges behind them.

"Hmm, it looks like either Heero's got to Rel and the guys, or Quatre and Trowa have decided to stop playing the victim."

"The looped footage is here." Wufei pointed at the screen. "That corridor, which we passed on the way into the building, is directly below the cell block where those bodies are. Note how the layout of both levels of the building are identical, the rear of each leading to the old suit hanger."

Duo pulled his gun and cocked the trigger. "I think it's time to join in the fun. This is turning into a regular Gundam pilots reunion."

******

Drawing his gun, Quatre motioned Trowa to stay behind him. While Trowa was still capable of handling himself if the need arose, it made more sense to let Quatre deal with the threat. The corridor they were in was a dead end; the cellblock had been designed so that escaping prisoners had only one direction to go - straight into the arms of waiting guards. There was an option of retreating into one of the other cells. The one immediately to their right was in ruins; the half-demolished wall would at least provide them with some degree of cover and a way out. But seeing the familiar cold look of determination in Quatre's eyes, Trowa knew his husband agreed with his own decision. They'd been through enough crap - it was time to remind their captors that they were dealing with Gundam pilots.

The footsteps grew closer. Gripping his gun in both hands, Quatre kept it focused ahead while he stepped over the bodies and moved silently towards their unknown assailant. Trowa followed, his own gun at the ready. After getting this far there was no way they were going down without a fight.

Quatre continued to creep towards the junction in the corridor, halting briefly to signal Trowa once he was in position. Trowa's finger tightened on the trigger, eyes scanning the darkness ahead. Even if they managed to take out his husband, they wouldn't live long enough to register their victory. He didn't like leaving the bulk of the operation to Quatre but he was well aware of his current physical limitations. Trowa might be injured but it wouldn't prevent him covering Quatre or taking out a second assailant if one existed.

The enemy entered their section of corridor.

Both men rushed forward. Quatre lunged for their would-be attacker, shoving him up against the wall with a thud. He jammed his weapon up under the man's jawline. Trowa swore under his breath as he noticed that their opponent's knife was pressed up against Quatre's throat.

Meeting Trowa's glare, Heero Yuy lowered his McGyver. "I see you and Quatre have the situation well under control, " he commented dryly. "We appear to be somewhat late in our rescue attempt."

"Good to see you too, Heero." Quatre stepped back, giving a light chuckle. "I see you haven't lost your touch." He lowered his gun as Relena emerged from the shadows to join her fiancee. "Relena, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Relena slipped her hand into Heero's and he stroked it absently with his thumb. "Trowa, what happened?"

"I had a difference of opinion with a pair of handcuffs," Trowa explained. "It looks a lot worse than it is."

"And you're in a lot more pain than you're letting on." Quatre brushed an errant lock of hair from his forehead, his brow creasing into a frown. "Heero, how many guards did you pass on your way here?"

"None." Heero gestured towards the corridor he'd just come from. "The stairs to the right are the only access to this mezzanine floor. Beyond the staircase is the old suit hanger; the walkway around the perimeter on this level doesn't appear to be particularly stable, and the only exit it provides is a long drop down to solid concrete."

"The stairs are our only option, then." Quatre shook his head. He tightened his grip on his weapon, cocking his head to the side as though listening for something. "It's disturbing that their security has been breached and they haven't sent someone to investigate…"

"Or to dish out Walker's perverted sense of justice," Trowa cut in dryly. "How far away are Duo and Wufei?"

"Don't ask," Relena sighed.

"You came without backup?" Quatre raised an eyebrow. "Heero, what the hell were you thinking?"

He wasn't. And neither were you when you tried to save me. Trowa wisely didn't put his thoughts into words. "You have a shuttle?" he asked Heero.

"Yes. It's…" The echo of heavy boots pounding against concrete interrupted Heero's reply. The three Gundam pilots exchanged glances. Trowa manoeuvred Relena into the cell at their right and signalled for her to stay down in the corner. He took up a position in front of her, using his body to provide added protection while he covered Heero and Quatre.

Drawing their guns, the other pilots crouched down behind the half-demolished wall, training their weapons on the staircase ahead as the footsteps grew closer.

******

[1] Yes, this is the 80s series starring Richard Dean Anderson. Interesting discussions followed the Gundam pilots' weekend viewing marathon as to the feasibility of making a bomb out of chewing gum and a rubber band.

******

TBC