Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Victoria Base Affair Extended Edition ❯ Pancevo Base ( Chapter 8 )

Warning: As promised, this chapter contains strong sexual content. Enjoy!

-o-o-o-

Chapter 8: Pancevo Base

Pancevo seemed hot and muggy after the cool Luxembourg weather. Zechs mopped his sweating face with his handkerchief and then smiled when he remembered the last thing he'd used it for.

“It's pretty hot here,” Sheldon Davis, his patrol mate, remarked.

Zechs nodded. “It was worse at Victoria, though. Middle of summer, you could fry eggs on your own skin.”

“Damn!” Sheldon grinned. “And I used to think it was bad in the cold up in Alaska!”

“When it's cold, you can put on a jacket. When it's hot like this, all you can do is sweat.” Zechs grinned. “But you get used to it.”

“When?” Sheldon mopped his own face and wrung out his handkerchief with a grimace. “I think I'm losing weight just from sweating.”

“I said you'd get used to it, I didn't say you'd stop sweating!” Zechs laughed.

“Damn!”

Shortly after arriving in Pancevo, Treize had divided the unit into two patrols, with Une and Cole in charge. Initially, the region around Pancevo Base had not seemed any more troubled than the area around Luxembourg. Early patrols had been relatively peaceful. But that changed rather dramatically halfway through the second week when Une's patrol was attacked by a well-armed force of rebel fighters. After that, it seemed like they encountered some kind of guerrilla attack or rebel activity every other day. Additional units from three other bases were deployed to Pancevo to support the Luxembourg forces.

General Catalonia's standing order regarding rebels was to accept surrender if it was offered, but to not wait around for such an offer. While some of the commanders took this to mean show no mercy, Treize told his people to take prisoners whenever possible without risking lives. He wanted to gather intelligence. But taking prisoners proved to be nearly impossible. The insurgents fought with ferocious desperation when cornered and ran if overwhelmed. After a month of fierce fighting, although the rebels had been suppressed, the Alliance forces knew little more about what was going on around Pancevo than they had when they first arrived.

Treize did not like it. He hated not knowing what was going on. So after the first month, he reorganized his unit into eight two-man patrols and two ten-man patrols. The larger patrols continued to provide rebel suppression. The primary function of the smaller patrols was to gather intelligence by interacting more closely with the local population. Zechs and Sheldon had been paired up for just over a week. Sheldon was a good man, if a little too inclined toward practical jokes. Zechs liked working with him.

That muggy afternoon, they hiked down to the airfield where their carrier was parked from the cool comfort of the air-conditioned mess hall on the base. Treize preferred to keep their Leos stored in the carrier, rather than use the Pancevo Base hangers, just to make sure only their own mechanics could get at their mobile suits. Although an effort had been made to re-check everyone still working at the Base, Treize chose to rely on a healthy paranoia. Zechs didn't have a problem with that. He liked to maintain a personal relationship with the mechanic who maintained his suit. It just made sense.

It was cooler inside the carrier, but noisy. Cole's team had just come in and from the sound of it, there'd been trouble. Zechs and Sheldon exchanged a look and then broke into a run in the direction of the commotion.

Treize stood with arms crossed, listening closely as Cole recounted events from his patrol. A medic was patching a bloody wound in Cole's upper arm as he spoke.

“…claimed he didn't hear a thing, but the door was ripped clean off the hinges,” Cole concluded as Zechs and Sheldon reached the group.

“The warehouse was cleaned out?” Treize asked angrily.

“Down to the mouse droppings,” Cole said. “They practically waxed the floor.”

“Dammit!” Treize exclaimed. “No one was supposed to know about that warehouse. The supplies were only going to be there for three days!” He chewed his lip, his face dark with suppressed fury. “And you're pretty sure the ones you found didn't do it.”

“I'm positive.” Cole inspected the medic's work by flexing his arm and making a fist. “They fought like sons of bitches, but they didn't know anything about the warehouse. They just had the misfortune of being hidden close by.” Cole looked at Treize knowingly and Treize nodded.

“We've got a leak.” Treize saw Zechs and Sheldon at the edge of the group and beckoned them forward. “I'm changing your patrol. Do the Yellow 3 patrol today instead of Green 6. And watch yourselves. There's now an extremely well-armed group out there.”

“Aye, sir,” Zechs and Sheldon said in unison. They saluted and sprinted off toward their mobile suits.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Zechs had few opportunities to be alone with Treize since arriving in Pancevo. Living on the carrier, surrounded by their comrades, mechanics and the carrier crew, there was little chance for privacy. But Treize was really too distracted anyway. The certain knowledge that there was a traitor somewhere in the Pancevo command had him constantly on edge. Zechs often found the safest way to appease his need to touch Treize was to massage his head and temples after dinner. If anyone caught them at it, it had a relatively innocuous explanation. And if they had five uninterrupted minutes, he could usually steal a kiss or two. But sex was pretty much out of the question, which left him tremendously frustrated even though he was tired most of the time from the constant patrols.

But after waking up for the second time on the same night with a hard-on so stiff it hurt, Zechs gave up trying to sleep. He could explain the first midnight shower as attempting to escape the heat, but he doubted anyone would buy it a second time. He rolled out of his bunk in the converted living quarters on the carrier and padded quietly out into the passageway on his bare feet, his boots in one hand. His untucked shirt hung down far enough to cover his erection, but he walked slowly anyway, so the tails wouldn't blow against him and reveal the bulge.

This is ridiculous, he thought. How am I supposed to sleep like this?

He strolled down into the hanger bay. It was dark and quiet, but as he walked along between the rows of mobile suits, he saw one with an open cockpit door emitting a faint flicker of light from the displays. It was Treize's suit. Without a second thought, Zechs dropped his boots in the shadows and scrambled up the side of the Leo. There was no elevator cart nearby, so whoever was inside had gone up the same way. He peeked inside the open door and felt warm desire spread from his groin when he saw Treize seated in the pilot's seat.

“Couldn't sleep either?” he asked as he stepped into view.

Treize started in surprise and then smiled broadly. “Zechs! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Wandering around wishing I could be in bed with you.” He moved all the way into the cockpit, leaned over and kissed Treize deeply.

Treize's left arm slid around Zechs' torso and pulled him down into his lap, while his right hand flickered across the controls, closing the door and disabling the communications interfaces. Then he began undoing Zechs' trousers.

Zechs took his tongue out of Treize's mouth long enough to whisper, “We'll get caught,” and then slipped his tongue hungrily between Treize's lips again.

“I don't care,” Treize mumbled around Zechs' tongue as he worked his hand inside Zechs' underwear and fondled his erection.

Zechs groaned. He stood up without taking his mouth off Treize's so Treize could pull his pants down. At the same time, he fumbled desperately for Treize's zipper and yanked it down. Treize started stroking him and Zechs' hands shook as he worked his fingers into the flap of Treize's underwear to pull his cock out. It was deliciously hard. With a gasp, Zechs pulled his mouth away and started giving Treize head to get him wet. He worked up and down for as long as he could stand it and then turned around. Treize put an arm around Zechs' waist and pulled him down into his lap, inserting his erection at the same time. Zechs leaned back against him with a deep groan. Gripping the edge of the console, he began pushing himself up and down. Treize put both arms around him, moving with him, his soft moans rushing on hot breath into Zechs' ear.

Even being as hard as he was, Zechs didn't come right away; he didn't want to. He wanted to enjoy this moment with Treize for as long as he could. He let his head fall back against Treize's shoulder as ecstasy slowly engulfed him. Treize felt wonderful inside him. He was so hard, Zechs could feel every inch of it, opening him up and stimulating him until shivering waves of pleasure washed through him, cresting steadily towards climax. His ejaculation was so powerful he couldn't make a sound while it was happening.

“Oh god!” he whispered when it finished. “How did I ever last so long without having you?”

Treize kissed his cheek. “The same way I did,” he murmured, breathless from the strength of his own orgasm, “by thinking about other things.”

“I love you, Treize.”

“I love you, too.” Treize kissed his cheek again. “Now help me clean up. I am NOT explaining this to my mechanic!”

Zechs smiled. “You know, if we did this in bed, we wouldn't always have to clean up after ourselves.”

Treize shoved Zechs out of his lap. “Smart aleck,” he muttered.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Because of the suspected traitor, Treize changed the patrol assignments every day in an attempt to keep anyone from guessing when a patrol team would move through a particular area. It seemed to be working at first, as they experienced a brief rise in their success rate at finding and capturing guerilla forces. But then things started to go wrong again. They lost another shipment of supplies when a carrier was hijacked at a refueling stop on the Mediterranean coast. General Catalonia was reportedly spitting nails and Treize was short-tempered with pretty much everyone but Zechs. This became obvious when Sheldon and Zechs entered the mobile suit bay on the carrier and found Treize dressing down two terrified looking mechanics.

Treize stopped as soon as he saw Zechs and dismissed the mechanics with an abrupt wave of his hand. They fled as if escaping the hangman. He waited for Zechs and Sheldon to reach him, obviously trying to rein in his temper.

“Is something wrong, Commander?” Zechs asked as soon as they reached him.

“No,” Treize replied with a slight shake of his head. “I just need…” He stopped and shook his head again, and then smiled at Zechs. “I just need to catch a break. Take the Blue 4 patrol today.”

“Yes, sir.” Zechs saluted and headed off for his mobile suit. Beside him, Sheldon was frowning.

“The Commander's not happy,” he grumbled. “When the Commander's not happy, something bad's always brewing.”

Zechs nodded in agreement. He knew what Sheldon meant. “Let's see if we can get some intel today. Blue 4 patrol will take us past that village where the warehouse was robbed last month. Let's stop and ask a few questions.”

“Good idea.”

Their patrol took them across country, following a natural fold in the land that kept them mostly out of sight until they moved up onto the road to march into the village. Some people dashed away in panic as the mobile suits lumbered into town, but many just went about their business with resigned expressions. Zechs and Sheldon stopped near the middle of town in front of a row of shops. Two of the merchants immediately shuttered their windows, but one man remained calmly out front sweeping his sidewalk.

“Keep watch,” Zechs said and he exited his suit.

The merchant stopped sweeping and leaned on his broom as he watched Zechs approach. “You people are bad for business,” he complained as Zechs drew near. “You never buy anything and you drive good customers away.”

“Sorry about that,” Zechs replied with a shrug. “These rebels make life hard for everyone.”

The man snorted.

“Once the rebels are put down the patrols will stop,” Zechs continued. “If people were more willing to talk to us, we could end this a lot sooner.”

“You want me to rat out my own kind?”

“Are you a rebel?”

The man paled. “That's not what I'm saying!” he said quickly. “But some of my countrymen don't hold with the Alliance. They think we should be a free country.”

“Your country is free. The Alliance is for everyone's protection.”

“That's what you say, but…” The man started sweeping again. “The Alliance is always looking over my shoulder.”

“But we don't interfere with commerce. And didn't the base soldiers shop in town before the trouble started?”

The man scowled. “Yeah, they did.” He stopped sweeping. “Look, I'm not going to betray my neighbors. They're good people; they've got their own reasons for doing things. But there're folks in the next town over, to the east, who are always stirring up trouble. They come around trying to get our young men involved in the fighting. We don't need that. Put a stop to that and maybe folks here would be willing to talk to you.” He clamped his lips together and resumed sweeping, clearing intending to say no more.

Zechs returned to his mobile suit. “Sheldon, let's take the east leg of the patrol first. There might be a rebel cell in the next town trying to recruit more guerillas.”

“Right.”

They marched out of town and struck out across country again. The quietness bothered Zechs. This was a populous region and although they passed people, working in fields or traveling along unpaved roads, it seemed like they didn't even notice the giant mobile suits moving past them.

They moved out into an open field. It had been cultivated, but recent fighting had torn up the ground and destroyed the crops. Treize had compensated the farmers, but there was still angry talk over the loss. That crop would have supplied much of the winter feed for the local herds. The residents feared they would have to slaughter animals that might otherwise starve, reducing herd sizes in a region that could ill afford it. The Alliance forces were not looked on with favor, although in Zechs' opinion, the rebels were equally to blame.

Dark forest rose up on the far side of the field, rumpling as it rose up into low hills. The Luxembourg forces had cleared that forest of rebels their third week in the Balkans. Zechs trained his long range viewer on the forest and scanned the edge. Nothing. Then the view screen went black as something rose up in his line of sight less than one hundred meters away. He had his rifle up and firing even before he dropped to normal view. All around them, rebel mobile suits were rising up out of holes in the ground. It was an ambush!

“Alpha 3-5! Alpha 3-5! We're under attack!” Sheldon screamed into his radio. “This is Bravo 6-6! We're under attack!”

Zechs backed up toward Sheldon, firing as he went. He risked a glance and saw Sheldon moving toward him. Maybe they had a chance if they stood together. The rebels only had machine guns. Zechs and Sheldon blazed away at them with their laser rifles, ripping holes through the older model suits the rebels were using. Back to back, they held the rebel soldiers at bay, but they were taking damage. Zechs felt bullets rip through his cockpit and tear into his side. His suit listed as he lost some motor control on the left side.

“You bastards!” Sheldon screamed. “I'll kill you all, you sons of bitches! You ain't takin' me down, goddamn you!” He was firing wildly.

“Sheldon!” Zechs screamed at him. “Pick your targets! Don't waste your shots!” Zechs put a clean shot through a rebel cockpit and grunted in satisfaction as the mobile suit exploded, but his side felt sticky and warm and Zechs realized he was losing blood. “Hold on, Sheldon! Treize will get here! We just have to hold on!”

For a moment, it looked like they were getting ahead of the rebels. Two more guerillas went down with black smoke billowing above bright red flame. But then more mobile suits appeared, charging across the field from the forest. Zechs tried not to think as he trained his rifle on the new targets. Had they held out long enough? Had there been enough time for rescue forces to reach them? He couldn't tell. Time never ran normally in a fight. It could have been seconds; it could have been hours. He just kept firing.

Sheldon's sudden scream was deafening. Zechs knew the meaning of that horrible, tearing sound. It was a death cry. He'd heard it before in his youth during the fall of the Sanc Kingdom. A shattering explosion knocked him through the air. Zechs felt a moment of deep regret that he was dying without saying goodbye to Treize and then his suit slammed into the ground, knocking him unconscious.

-o-o-o-

Cole's squad was already in the field when the call for help came in. He responded immediately, racing to aid Sheldon and Zechs without waiting for Treize's orders. Une's squad and the four patrols on night duty raced for their mobile suits in the carrier. Treize was issuing orders even as he strapped into his own cockpit.

“Bravos 6-2, 6-4 and 6-8, return to base! Watch your backs! Alpha 3-1, where are you?”

“Almost there, Commander!” Cole answered. “Two minutes!”

Treize swore to himself as he drove out of the carrier and broke into a run. The rebels had never attacked a patrol in broad daylight before. The location didn't make any sense either. They were in the middle of an empty field. There was nothing of value nearby. There was no cover for a hidden rebel base. It made no sense at all. Ahead of him, Une's squad raced into the open fields. They could see the smoke rising from the battlefield now. It was much closer to the base than Treize expected. Why would rebels attack a patrol so close to the base? He pushed the suit as hard as he could, demanding every ounce of speed it could give him.

He arrived at the scene in time to see Cole's squad chasing the guerillas into the forest on the far side of the field. A part of his mind counted seven of them as the rogue mobile suits raced into the shelter of the trees, but mentally and emotionally, he'd already dismissed them. His attention was focused on the smoking wreckage of two mobile suits. Treize's heart stopped at the sight of Zechs' crushed Leo. He could see that it was more or less intact, but it lay smashed into the ground, with smoke curling up from more places than he could count. He drove his suit close to Zechs' and leaped down while the door was still dropping open. He scrambled up to the fallen Leo's cockpit door and kicked the emergency release. The door started to open, caught, moved a little farther and then seized up.

“No!” Treize cried. He scrambled around to the narrow opening and gripped it with both hands. Squatting down, he pulled with strength amplified by the adrenaline pumping through his veins. With a shriek of metallic protest, the door shifted slightly. “Aughh!” Treize screamed in inarticulate rage and fear and jerked on the resisting panel with superhuman strength. There was a tremendous crack and the door ripped free, crashing over and sliding to the ground. He immediately lowered himself into the cockpit, balancing carefully on the back wall and the control panel.

The left side of the cockpit was caved in and Zechs looked as if that entire side of his body was broken. The hair on the left side of his head was matted with blood. His uniform was soaked with it. Treize stopped breathing.

“Oh god, no!” he whispered. “Please, no!” Carefully, he reached down to touch his fingers against Zechs' throat. At his touch, Zechs' eyelids fluttered and opened. Tears streamed unnoticed down Treize's cheeks. “It's all right, Zechs,” he whispered. “I'm here.”

Zechs' lips moved. Treize twisted down so he could put his ear close enough to hear what Zechs was trying to say. Zechs' lips brushed against Treize's ear as he spoke, his breath warm against Treize's skin.

“I'm sorry… I couldn't… save him…”

Treize closed his eyes. Fury was fast consuming the fear within him. He lifted his head and shouted, “Where's the goddamn medic?”

“He's here,” Une answered. She was leaning over the open cockpit, watching him. Another face appeared beside her.

“I need to get in there, sir,” the medic, Dal Yazumi, said.

Reluctantly, Treize climbed out and let Dal take his place. “I want him out of there as soon as possible,” he ordered as he moved aside.

“I have to stabilize him first, sir.” But Dal was already ignoring him, focused on his patient.

Treize looked around the horizon anxiously. “Where's the fucking med-evac?”

“It's on the way, Treize.” Une put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Sheldon's dead.”

Treize closed his eyes again, murmuring a brief prayer for the soul of his fallen comrade. Then his eyes snapped open as a thought suddenly struck him. “They were ambushed,” he announced grimly.

“How is that possible?” asked Une. “You changed the patrol this morning. There is no way the enemy could have planned an ambush of this size that quickly. Zechs and Sheldon must have stumbled on them by accident.”

“No,” Treize shook his head, staring at Sheldon's dismembered Leo to avoid looking at Zechs. “If the guerillas had been surprised, they would have run, rather than wait to find out if these two were alone. They knew Zechs and Sheldon didn't have backup nearby. They knew exactly where to wait for them so they could take them by surprise.” Treize looked toward where the guerillas had retreated. “Someone betrayed us and he'll pay for it with his blood.”

They both turned at the sound of engines. The med-evac flew as close to them as possible before settling to the ground in a vertical landing. Below them in the crushed cockpit, Dal was issuing terse orders into the communicator mounted on his shoulder. As a team emerged from the med-evac and raced toward them with a stretcher, Treize finally looked back down at Zechs. Dal had extricated Zechs' limbs from the wreckage and applied tourniquets and bandages. Treize knew there was nothing else he could do here and that he needed to be doing other things, but it was hard to tear himself away. The thought of losing Zechs made him feel empty inside. The need to hold him and comfort him was a physical pain that ached through his whole body. With an effort, he dragged himself away and jumped to the ground.

“I want Sheldon's body cut out of there and returned to Luxembourg for burial,” he ordered Une. “And get some personnel out here to transport what's left of these mobile suits back to Luxembourg as well. We can scrap them for parts. I don't want so much as a bolt left for the guerillas to use.”

Une nodded and moved off, barking orders into her communicator. Treize watched the medics load Zechs carefully onto the stretcher and hurry back to the med-evac. He climbed into his Leo as it lifted off and thumbed on his radio. A chatter of voices immediately spilled out.

“I got your back, Yuki! Take him!”

“Take left! I'll go right!”

“He's down! He's down!”

Treize listened as Cole's team finished the battle and began mopping up. Then he flipped on his mike. “Alpha 3-5 returning to base.” Une immediately ordered three people to escort him, but he didn't respond. He had other concerns on his mind. Leaving her to handle the cleanup, Treize headed back to the carrier. He needed a secure channel for his next communication.