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Standard disclaimers apply...
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"The ages of chaos had long since passed, as had the age of man, and now the age of the machines was declining."
"Mommy, you've told me that one before."
"Really?"
"Yes, last week. And anyway, that story isn't true; it's just a rip-off of an old science fiction movie from the 20th century. Something true this time please?" The child begged and the young mother leaned back in her chair, debating for a moment on just what story would be suitable for her child.
"I suppose this one will do," she said softly. Maneuvering from her chair, to her daughter's bed, and pulling the child into her arms. Mindful of the growing bulge that was her stomach.
"Not too long ago, a young girl was taken from her home, and made to become something not evil, but not good. Something that belonged in the gray areas of the world. And she met a young boy, and she betrayed him, and that guilt weighed on her heart for more than ten years. Until finally she met him again…"
"I'd like you to meet your new partner, Midii Une."
"No," Trowa replied, his voice level, his eyes blazing with indignation.
"Yes," Lady Une replied, handing Midii a mission folder. "And there's your mission, read it and be prepared to leave by 0800 hours tomorrow morning."
Midii sighed, as she seated herself across from the frowning Preventer. The file already open in her hands, calloused fingers leafing through the pages.
"You know, she is your boss, and technically being a subordinate means you follow orders." She said after a moment, not glancing up from her reading.
He glared at her from his chair, emerald eyes fixed on her golden locks.
"You're a traitor. I don't trust you, because once you've turned on someone it makes it all the easier for you to do it again and again. And I'm not going into a hostile area with someone at my back that I can't trust." He said watching her shoulders tense at the memories his words invoked.
"So, I take it you're not going on this mission then," she asked, finally looking up from the mission brief in her hands. Eyes blank, the emotions that had once shone from them long gone.
"You are correct in your assumption."
"Well then, I'll just be going. I have a lot to do before tomorrow if I'm going to do this myself," the words drifted to him as the door clicked shut and he was left alone, staring at the chair she had so recently occupied. Memories of the past assaulting his mind, the cries of the Captain and the rest of the mercenaries ringing in his ears.
++
Fire. Pain. Screams. The filled her ears and her mind as she pushed through the dark corridors, leaning against the walls for support. A trail of blood in her wake.
"Five more doors," she reminded herself, egging herself on.
Pushing her pain-wracked body to the limits of its endurance she survived another scuffle. The muted thumps of flesh hitting flesh filling the corridor, and pain washing over her. Gasping with determination she forged on, kicking the door open and rolling into the open.
Surprise flitting over her features as she took in the sight before her. The rows of and rows of artificial wombs filled with fetus' stopping her in her tracks.
"Astounding isn't it?" A voice called out, and she whirled to face the man she had come to kill.
"Not what you expected I presume?" he asked, posing before her. "Did you expect some mushroom headed old man? Or someone with artificial limbs?"
Shocked she nodded, her eyes trailing over his figure. Taking in his beauty.
"Like what you see?" he asked, slinking forward to caress her face with a glove covered hand. "Well you'll get to admire it for a while yet, as you're going to be my guest," he smirked at her confused expression, catching her in his arms as she fell to the ground.
"Thanks Bob."
"Your welcome boss."
Hours later he cackled in true mad scientist fashion as he heard his captive's screams of denial.
"Teach you to be fooled by a pretty face my dear," he murmured before returning to his work. Checking over the artificial wombs that held his prize inventions.
++
"Preventer 03," a voice called out, stopping him in his tracks. "It's been three weeks since I gave you that mission. Why haven't I seen either Midii Une or the mission report in my office since that day?" Lady Une asked, her voice deceptively calm
"Lady Une?" he asked, stepping closer to her though every instinct told him to run far, far away as fast as possible.
"I am to believe that you let her go on that mission alone?" Lady Une asked over her shoulder as she stepped into an empty conference room. A silent command in her voice for Trowa to follow.
"I told you no, I knew her during the war. She was a traitor and a spy. And a cheetah never changes its spots." He said, leaning against the far wall, eyes trained on Lady Une's back.
"So, chivalry really is dead. Did you even read the mission brief? Do you have any idea what you sent her into alone?" Lady Une asked, her voice staying strangely calm, a hand lifted to the glass, tracing the shapes on the skyline.
"No, what was the point in reading a mission brief for a mission I never intended to take."
"The mission was infiltration. There's a mad scientist out there, a contemporary of the mad five, and he's been getting into a lot of illegal things. For instance the building of mobile suits, the development of chemical weapons, and fraud, just to name a few. And he's well protected, in his little bunker in the Alps. We estimate he has over a thousand men just to guard him, and his inventions. With just two agents we were pushing it. But with one, the chance of success was negligible. You sent her to her death you know." Lady Une said, never turning from the window, the only sign of her anger, the gradual tensing of her shoulders.
"I knew you'd met her before, but I had hoped that you would be able to forgive her, or at least trust my judgment!" She hissed, finally turning to face him.
"You are no longer the feared Colonel Une! You no longer have that killer instinct! And she's good at what she does. No one knew what the hell she was up to, until the alliance started firing at us! No one knew!" He roared back, the famed mask of calm detachment gone, and only a hurt little boy left behind.
"I am your commanding officer! And your behavior was a heinous breach in military protocol. I don't care that you were a Gundam pilot. You're suspended without pay, awaiting a court martial for your behavior."
He nodded stiffly in response to her proclamation, his eyes trained on the falling snow as Lady Une stalked out of the room. Guilt beginning to crowd his mind. A little voice whispering in his ear that he should leave, he should find her, he should apologize. And in that instant his mind was made up, and he sprinted for the armory. So focused on his objective he didn't see Lady Une as she watched him depart, nor the smile of triumph, which graced her lips.
"Mommy, is this a true story?" The little girl asked, and her mother nodded her head.
"Yes, it's true. But it's barely even started. So settle back, and I'll continue." She paused, waiting for her daughter to settle herself. "But if you'd rather go to bed, I can always stop." She offered, chuckling at the sudden and vigorous head shaking that her statement incited.
"No, no, continue, please mommy. This story is different from the other ones."
"Yes, it is. Because it's true."
"How do you know this story mommy?"
"I'll tell you later, but right now, just listen to the story. Ok?"
"Yes mommy."
"Now, where was I?"
"He'd just gone to save the woman."
"Oh yes… and so he ran to the armory and requisitioned enough guns and explosives to outfit a small army…"
"So, my pretty little bird… do you think anyone will arrive to rescue you today? Or shall you spend another day in the dungeon, waiting, and wasting away?" Her captor asked and she remained silent, and staring into space. Not deigning to acknowledge her tormentor, nor give him the victory of her acknowledgement.
"Ah, so it will continue on in this way then. My patience is wearing thin, my sweet. If no one arrives for you within the next fortnight, you shall be disposed off. And it won't be pretty. My soldiers get rather lonely up here in the mountains, and there really are very few pretty young things like yourself around here." He taunted before leaving her in peace. The tap-tap of his heels against the concrete floor diminishing in volume until they were but a distant memory.
"I hate you," she whispered, curling in on herself. Her face buried in her knees as despair began to take hold. An emotion she had often felt during her early years of spying. An emotion that she thought long conquered.
And as she struggled to control the tears that threatened to fall she heard shouting in the distance. And the faint crackle of gunfire, and as the gunfire continued to sound the feelings of despair began to disappear and the tears to still. Hope was reborn in her heart, and she smirked at the sudden ground shaking explosions.
As silence hit the compound once more, she found herself anxiously waiting for her rescuer to show himself. But as the hours passed, and no one appeared at the gates to her cage, hope died, and despair was reborn.
She berated herself for hoping that someone would rescue her. That he would rescue her. He hated her, and with good reason. As the anger washed over her for playing the damsel in distress she lashed out at the nearest object and found her fists pummeling the cell walls. Nails and skin breaking as her flesh tore at the onslaught, and blood poured down her arms. A grotesque, piece of abstract art left on her walls to torment and tease her. To remind her of her folly.
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She waited for three days, in solitude. Only seeing people in the early hours of the morning, when a grunt would push her food through the metal bars. She cringed at the acrid stench of her cell, shrinking away from the overwhelming scent of death and despair. Her fingers stained with her blood, her clothing tattered and torn.
At the sound of rapid tap-tap's, a different cadence to the step of her captor she finally looked up, hoping against hope that someone had arrived to rescue her.
Her heart dropped momentarily as she saw Trowa striding towards her. A gash across his chest bleeding sluggishly, and his sculpted face liberally smudged with soot and blood.
"Well, don't I get a welcome," he called as his fumbled with the keys to her cell. Nimble fingers sorting through the ring of keys, finally pulling the right one from the bunch and slotting it into the keyhole. A look of triumph crossing over his features as the key turned and the gate swung open.
He watched her with expectant eyes, his arms held open in welcome. And she rushed into them. Desperate for human contact and reassurance.
"Come, we need to go, the guard is changing." He said, inhaling the scent of her hair, his fingers entwining with hers as he pulled her along. Shielding her body with his, acting the role of protective lover to a T.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and she shook her head in response.
"No need," she responded, smiling. Her heart begging her to trust him. To believe in this sudden change of heart.
"I have a jeep waiting, just a mile or two more," he urged as they broke to the surface.
"Thank you," she responding. Smiling at the sight of their clasped hands. A small corner of her mind protesting that something was wrong, that he hated her. He'd never do this. But ruthlessly she silenced it, reveling in the feeling of his embrace.
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She giggled as he pulled her into his arms. The sound reverberating through their small apartment. Her mind marveling at her sudden change in fortune.
"Dinner tonight?" he asked, his nose nuzzled against her neck.
"No, I have work tonight…" she said softly, wriggling out of his grasp. "Big important meeting."
"Really?" he asked, batting his eyes at her, his expression causing her to break out in laughter.
"Sorry, sweetie," she responded turning to pull on her coat.
"Midii, darling, it's our anniversary tonight." He begged, pulling on her arm. "Call Lady
Une, you're her prize agent, she'll give you the night off." He whispered, pleasing with her to remain with him. His actions completely opposite of the Trowa from before the mad scientists lair.
"I would, I really would, but I can't. We have a lead on that new terrorist group. And it's vital that we go over the relevant data before things get out of hand." She said, moving quickly towards the door, hardening her heart to his pleading face.
As she closed the door, and quickly marched down the hallway, winding her scarf around her neck as she went she marveled on that eighteen months. The whirlwind courtship, and marriage that had marked her return from the mad scientists lair. And of course, the sudden promotion at work, a position making her one of the heads of
Preventer. One of the few with signature responsibility.
So immersed in her routine she failed to notice the man waiting for her in the elevator. The only indication of his presence the faint scent of his cologne and the hand that clamped over her mouth, stifling her screams.
"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you stop…"
"You looked scared. And it's way past your bedtime."
"But…"
"Tomorrow sweetheart, tomorrow."
She promised as she tucked her child into bed, planting a kiss on her forehead before switching off the light and leaving the room. Smiling at her husband as he pulled her into his arms, tucking her head into his shoulder, and feeling the tears start to wrack her body.
"Do you think she's old enough to hear this?" He asked, smoothing her hair back from her tear stained face.
"Yes. I do. She's strong. Stronger than I am. Stronger than he was."
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-to be continued and hopefully finished in part 2
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