[Fic] GW500 - 337 - assignment, Lightning Never Strikes Twice
Directly follows Staring at the Rain.
Title: Lightning Never Strikes Twice
Pairing/Characters: implied 1+2+1 and pre-established 3x4x3
Rating: R
Warnings/Kinks: AU/TWT, Quatre POV-ish, action
Word count: 5337
Disclaimer: I don't own them; I just like to mess with them on occasion.
Notes: ~ Thoughts ~
// sign language //
"Man, if Heero were here..." Duo wasn't quite breathing heavily yet, but he was exerting himself. Carrying equipment, guns, munitions, and explosives on a two mile trek through rainforest was work. And the humidity wasn't helping. "... he'd be on my case about not being in shape and god only knows what else."
"Duo," Quatre snorted, "if you're not in shape, where does that leave us?"
"Dunno. But you know I'm right..." Duo retorted.
"Heero is overly critical," came Trowa's calm reply, temporarily ending the conversation.
A part of the reason for the trio's slow progress... well, slower than they would have preferred... was the series of fallen trees and rockslides they had encountered on their hike down from their campsite. The facility they were targeting for this assignment was down in the river basin, where they could simply load what they had fabricated onto barges and send it where it needed to go.
And that meant a lot of climbing. Accompanied by a fair amount of cursing on Duo's part. He'd already overbalanced once, falling flat on his ass in mud that hadn't yet dried out after the night's rain. It had made a sloppy sucking sound when Quatre pulled him back up to his feet. Both had grimaced.
Duo brushed what he could off, with a glare and a sigh. "Just great. How am I gonna sneak around with gobs of mud falling off my ass?"
Quatre laughed, waving away a bug that had decided it wanted to buzz in circles around his head. "Just get rid of whatever you can. The rest will dry by the time we get there with a little luck."
"In my experience, there's no such thing as luck."
"Yes, yes. I know. Enough with the obscure references." Quatre rolled his eyes. The only reason he knew that one was Duo's insistence on sharing his collection of seemingly random pre-colony films with whoever would watch them. "Come on. We're getting behind schedule."
Setting off through the thick underbrush again, and making frequent use of his compass, Quatre took the lead. They were getting closer now, after all, having passed the halfway point between their campsite, and the manufacturing base.
After a couple of minutes of silence, Duo spoke again. "Think we'll have to adjust the plan?"
Trowa shook his head. "Why?"
"Just a gut feeling."
Quatre gave him an odd look. "Anything specific? You don't usually get cold feet."
"Hah! I wish I could be more specific."
"Best we can do is keep our eyes open, then. The plan is a go as is. Remember your part, Duo?"
"Yeah, yeah. Sneak in and plant some C-4 to take out the comm tower, then meet you guys near the HQ as it comes down and demolish the factory on the west side."
"Good."
Trowa nodded.
Duo sighed. "Damn, I hope this assignment doesn't go sour on us."
Quatre eyed him again. "It won't. And even if it does, it's not a one-man operation."
Trowa held up a hand, asking for silence, before adding in their specially developed hand signals, // Possible patrol ahead. //
// How many? // Quatre wanted to know.
// Estimate six. //
A moment later, the sound of boots crunching through the layer of leaf debris came through clearly. The three pilots quietly lowered themselves to the ground, well below eyelevel, and hidden in the tangle of brush.
// Follow them? // Duo asked.
// No. Risky. // Quatre disagreed.
Duo shrugged. // Fine. //
A voice rang out. Very nearby. "Take a break for water, men."
A boot came down much closer than the others. Duo restrained himself from giving in to his reflexive grab for it. Instead, he tensed, hoping against hope that they wouldn't be discovered. ~ Not now. Can't give away our position just yet. ~
Nothing happened, though. No startled shouts of realization.
Duo studied them. Nothing really stood out. All of them wore the standard OZ uniform, though some looked a bit bedraggled. A flash of an LED caught his attention.
~ Waaaaaaait. Shit. Several of those guys have radios. Not good. ~
Five long minutes that felt like an eternity later, the patrol moved on, thirst quenched, and still unaware of their narrow brush with death.
The three pilots slowly relaxed.
Duo grimaced, but didn't speak. ~ That could have been a disaster. ~ // Move now, or wait? // he asked.
The other two exchanged a glance. // Move, // came Trowa's vote.
Quatre considered a moment longer. // Move, // he reluctantly decided. // Patrol won't hear. //
Duo nodded, wiping away the sweat that was beading at his temples with the mostly clean side of his sleeve. // Let's go. //
He waited for the nods of acknowledgement from his two friends, before cautiously standing and ghosting away through the underbrush, quiet as the shadow he resembled.
Within minutes, they were beside the wall of the base, waiting for the guards above them to move on.
// Morons are slow. // Duo made a face.
Quatre smacked his shoulder, stifling a laugh. // Shut up. //
Duo smirked. // Fine. Fine. //
Trowa glanced up. // Move. Opening. //
Duo immediately sobered, glancing up as well. Quatre, watching Duo, thought he caught a hint of Duo's alter ego before wide violet eyes were on him, curious. The guards had turned and were walking away.
// So...? Follow me. // Duo was up the wall, free climbing, finding handholds where Quatre wasn't sure even moss could cling to the wall.
With a wry smile, he followed as best he could, feeling clumsy. Trowa stayed where he was for a moment, warily keeping an eye on their surroundings.
Reaching the top of the wall, Quatre crouched down, taking cover behind a large box, waiting for Trowa to join him before he climbed down. He glanced down over the other side of the wall. Duo was nowhere to be seen, and had clearly taken off already.
~ Here's to hoping we can get the timing of this right. We have to be in and out of this place in under half an hour. We might as well try to imitate a lightning strike. ~
Feeling a presence beside him that had not been there a moment ago, Quatre glanced over to meet Trowa's eyes. Or, at least the one that was visible under his unruly fall of hair.
// Lead. // Trowa gestured to the other side of the wall. // Jump. //
Quatre raised an eyebrow at him.
With a shrug, Trowa simply leapt off the side of the wall, executing a neat flip and landing almost silently in a crouch.
~ Showoff, ~ Quatre followed, landing solidly, but not as lightly.
Cautiously, they worked their way from building to building, careful not to be seen, making sure to give Duo enough time to complete his objective.
Ten minutes later, he and Trowa were concealed in the middle of a heap of as-yet-unfilled shipping crates. It was tempting to relax, and let one's guard down, but neither allowed himself to.
It took Duo another five minutes to reach them. Eventually, Trowa spotted him, and put his hand on Quatre's shoulder. // Let's go. //
// Coast is clear. // Duo grinned. // Time to move. //
Moving together with an ease that spoke clearly of much practice and an intimate knowledge on each others' fighting styles and tactics, they sprang into action. They had carefully made sure the factory would be shut down during the mission. For routine maintenance. It would make the mission easier in that less people would be around to spot them, and also meant fewer potential casualties.
Duo walked up to the locked door of the loading dock, more sheltered from view than the other entrances, and set to work picking the lock. It didn't take him long. He said nothing, but expression on his face spoke volumes for his disdain at just how easy the lock had been to force.
Slipping inside, the trio readied the charges they'd packed for this part of the mission. Without a word spoken, they split up, heading for three different targets. Duo the central structural supports of the roof, Trowa the main supports for the walls, and Quatre the most sensitive pieces of machinery. The ones hardest to replace, and most expensive. The ones that would cripple the factory, even if none of the other charges went off.
And also the riskiest to plant, given that the machinery was being cleaned and repaired.
Luck was with him right up until the last moment. As he planted the final charge, leaning under the machinery.
"Hey! What are you doing there?"
Quatre glanced covertly over to the others. Neither had heard, but the man's friends had.
"Dropped my wrench. Was trying to get it back."
The man's voice rose. "Wrench, my ass. Stand up and show your face!"
Now Duo's head shot up, and his eyes widened. He turned away, though. ~ Yes, get Trowa's attention, ~ Quatre thought at him.
"But sir, my wrench will..."
"I don't care about your fucking wrench, stand up! Hands where I can see them!"
Two shadows detached themselves from the wall, gliding soundlessly up behind the three maintenance men.
Duo's eyes caught Quatre's, then he signed, // On three, take him out. Moron. //
"Okay, sir."
// One. //
Quatre slowly straightened, hands slightly out from his sides.
// Two. //
Duo and Trowa positioned themselves behind their chosen targets.
// Three. //
Everything seemed to happen at once. Trowa grabbed his chosen target, the one brandishing his pipe wrench like a club, and, with one hand over his mouth and the other arm around his neck, knocked him out, quickly and quietly. Duo tapped his on the shoulder, quipping, "Excuse me," and, with a precise punch to the jaw, laid him out on the floor.
Quatre noted all of this peripherally. He crouched down and swept one foot out and around, knocking the leader off his feet, then expertly pinned him to the concrete floor, one of his victim's arms pinned to his side, and the other pulled up behind his back and the elbow forced up high enough to immobilise him.
This, of course, didn't stop the man from loudly yelling and cursing at him. Quatre, feeling time slipping away, simply knocked him out. ~ Enough of this nonsense. We need to bug out of here. ~
Standing, he asked softly, "Where do we put them? We need to disappear."
Duo shrugged. "Up against a building as far away as we can get them without being spotted. They should be okay there. The charges are set to make things implode."
~ He never did like causing unnecessary casualties, ~ Quatre mused to himself. ~ None of us does. ~ "Okay," he said aloud.
Duo nodded emphatically. "Right. Let's get on with it then. I want to be over the compound wall before the comm tower goes up."
Each of us shouldered one of the unconscious men, and we made our way, slightly awkwardly, out of the factory. Two buildings and three scares away from the rigged building, the pilots set their burdens down.
By the time the three men woke, they would be long gone, and the buildings in ruins. In all likelihood.
No longer encumbered with the slumbering deadweight of the maintenance workers, the trio rapidly worked their way across the base, dodging two patrols and a few groups of men sitting around bored, playing card games.
Trowa had ended up in the lead, and, reaching the wall, leaned back against it, bending his knees and lacing his hands together. The meaning was clear.
Quatre rested one hand on a well-muscled shoulder and his right foot in Trowa's cupped hands. A moment later, he wondered if Trowa had decided to throw him over the wall, scrambling slightly to catch the edge and pull himself up. Before he climbed over the lip of the wall, he glanced around, also listening for any cues from his friends.
Not seeing anyone, he hauled himself up, the bare concrete scratching at his torso through his clothes.
Almost immediately, Duo followed. "Come on, Quat," he whispered, "we gotta go."
"Time?"
"About thirty seconds."
"Right."
Quatre vaulted over the far side of the wall without any farther words. As he hit the ground, the low concussive booms of the charges going off in the comm tower began rolling over him. Duo landed a trifle awkwardly beside him with a thud and a low curse.
"Fuck."
"Status?" Quatre made sure to keep his voice low.
"Not sure. Twisted my right ankle."
Trowa rejoined them. "Problem?"
"There sure as hell will be if we don't get the fuck outta here," Duo responded.
"Then lead."
Duo nodded and took off, setting a pace that would be difficult to keep up for too long. He clearly had no wish to be caught inside the search radius when the OZ commanders managed to rally their patrols and begin beating the bushes.
The fast pace only lasted for about ten minutes. Duo, though stubborn, was not about to push himself or either of his friends into exhaustion. Not when they might still have to fight their way out of the area.
Their scheduled pick-up was in the same direction as their campsite, but another two miles inland, over rough terrain.
Eventually, some half hour later, they arrived back at their campsite of the night before. Duo spared a moment to look back down at the base. "Looks like we managed after all. I wondered if all the charges were gonna go off."
Smoke was rising from the comm tower, thick and oily black. The factory was simply a pile of rubble.
Quatre followed Duo's eyes, then glanced around, feeling that the light was somehow a little dimmer than before. "Guys, we'd better keep moving. I get the feeling it's about to start pouring rain again."
"Well, shit." Duo's expression hovered somewhere between resigned and pissed. "Maybe with a little luck we can avoid getting soaked. Come on."
A cold gust of wind hit the trio as he spoke, carrying the damp smell of rain and making the leaves of the trees around them rustle in the updraft. Quatre sighed. "Somehow I doubt that, but let's try."
With a nod, Duo took off, leading his friends down a shallow incline at the back of the ridge they'd camped on, heading roughly northeast. There was a narrow game trail that they could follow, but it was only intermittent and sometimes disappeared entirely, leaving them to fight through the branches of the underbrush.
As they reached the bottom of the incline, the first fat heavy drops of rain started falling. A bright bolt of lightning arced across the sky, lighting up even the forest floor so brightly it almost felt like midday. It grounded somewhere off in the distance before fading again, waves of thunder rolling over the three pilots like ocean waves.
Grumbling under his breath, Duo reached back to pull his flashlight out of his pack. He would need it if he wanted to have any hope of actually reading the compass he held, dark as it was. The clouds roiling overhead were the shade of grey he imagined the legendary tempests of old had been. Somewhere between charcoal grey and black iron.
The ground was rapidly turning into silty clay mud beneath their feet as they hiked silently on, albeit a bit more carefully now.
For his part, Quatre was mostly concerned about the last leg of their hike. Which ran almost straight down. The only way to approach the pickup point from this direction was down the side of what amounted to a steep cliff. A path had been carved into the rock, complete with switchbacks, but no handrails. It had been unnerving enough in the dry yesterday morning. But now...
Lightning arced again, grounding much closer to them, now. Thunder immediately followed the strike, almost deafening in its intensity. Some instinct warned Trowa, and he pulled Duo back by his belt. Duo squawked and flailed his arms to keep his balance, only just managing in the mud. A bare second later, with a loud groan and a crash, a tree trunk as big around as his Gundam's leg landed where Duo had been standing. He stared dumbly at it for a long moment. "Holy shit." A shudder ran through his frame, and he closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again, they sought out Trowa's. "Thanks, man."
"You're the one with the compass." It was said in his usual near monotone, but the slight smirk betrayed his amusement.
Duo snorted. "Oh, sure. I see how it is. All you want me for is my navigational skills. Hmph."
Quatre laughed at their antics. "Enough, you two. Let's keep moving. Standing around in the rain isn't going to accomplish anything."
"Yeah, yeah." Duo walked up to the gargantuan tree, scarred from its fight with the lightning, and eyed it. "Doesn't look too bad. We should be able to get over this without a problem. Just try not to pick up any splinters." Carefully tucking the compass into a zippered pocket and putting his flashlight back in his pack, he climbed up to the top of the trunk. "Walk in the park." Disappearing down the other side, he landed heavily. This time the ankle he'd twisted earlier gave under him, and he went sprawling in the mud.
Feet landed beside him as he pushed himself onto his back. "Fuck. That can't be good."
"What can't?" Quatre looked down at him, concerned.
Trowa landed lightly next to them both, having to check his balance in the slippery mud.
"Ankle gave out. And it hurts. It's probably at least sprained."
The rain seemed to get somehow colder when Quatre heard those words. He exchanged a look with Trowa. "Definitely not good. Can you stand, Duo?"
Duo flexed his ankle and foot carefully. With a grimace, he admitted. "Stand, probably. Walk, maybe. Get down that cliff later, don't think so."
Quatre's eyes hardened with resolve. "Doesn't matter. You're going to try."
"Quat--"
"Get up, Duo."
He offered a hand up to mitigate the bite of command in his words.
Duo sighed and took the hand. A moment later he was back on his feet, hissing at the twinge of pain as he tested his injured ankle. "Well, fuck my life. This whole mission has just gone from bad to worse."
Lightning struck again, the thunder than accompanied it drowning out anything the others might have said in response.
Leaning against a nearby tree, Duo took the time to untie his right boot, and then relace it, pulling the laces as tight as he could stand. It would at least give him some support. When he looked up, finished, Trowa was offering him a sturdy branch he'd broken off the downed tree and trimmed down somewhat.
"Good idea," Duo gratefully took it. Leaning his weight on the stick rather than his foot, he'd be fine. At least until they reached the cliff face. He gave the tree trunk a sour look, then gingerly took a few steps through the red mud, feeling for the limits of what he could do, and disappointed when he found them rather quickly.
Trowa wordlessly stood in front of him, blocking him from moving forward and held out a hand. Duo looked at it, then up at his friend. "What?"
"The compass."
"You want it?"
A nod.
"Fine. You can take point." Duo pulled open the zippered pocket, fishing around in it until he found the compass, securely on its lanyard. Pulling it out, he offered it to Trowa.
Trowa took it, wrapping the lanyard around his wrist, then looked over to where Quatre stood. "Duo's in the middle."
Quatre nodded.
Duo snickered. "Kinky."
With a shove to Duo's shoulder, Quatre quipped, "How would you know?"
"You guys aren't exactly quiet."
Quatre, coloring a little, decided not to say anything further on the subject. "Shut up and walk, Duo."
Making a face, Duo gave in, and they were moving again.
Despite having to slow their pace considerably, they made good time after that, and all too soon they were staring down the rainwashed cliff path. Duo looked visibly unsure of himself. Not something that happened often.
"Quat?"
"Yes?"
"Got any rope in that pack of yours?"
"No."
"Damn." He sighed. "Oh well. Here goes."
Duo almost ran right into Trowa. The tall pilot had frozen, clearly listening to something other than the conversation. "I think we may have company."
Quatre's head came up and his pistol appeared in his hand as he crouched down, making himself less of a target and allowing him to shoot more accurately. He wasn't about to be taken off guard, or without a fight. "OZ?"
// Not sure. Wait. //
Duo's pistol was still tucked safely in its holster. Instead he'd lowered himself to the ground, assembling his rifle. // Where? // He wanted to know.
// About 300 meters, at 1-o'clock. //
Peering through the scope, Duo scanned the trees. After a moment that felt like a half hour, he tensed. // Patrol. Six men. //
He sighted carefully, singling out the leader. He would get only one free shot. He'd have to make it count. As his finger tightened on the trigger, a little red LED flashed off to the guy's left. ~ Radio. Better take that guy out first. Or... do they have more? ~
Meticulously checking all the other men in the patrol, he decided that was the only guy with a radio. Carefully aiming, he smirked. ~ None of the other could do this, I'd bet. ~
The trigger tightened, then broke. The man with the radio staggered, and looked dumbly down at the strap of his pack. His radio hung there, sparking in the rain and shattered beyond all use. Another bullet took him down, striking his knee. He fell to the ground with a scream of pain.
One of his friends picked him up, slinging his arm over a shoulder, and tried to haul him off into the trees, behind some cover. A third bullet caught the second soldier solidly in the upper arm.
Duo continued sighting and shooting until all of the men in the patrol had disappeared into the trees. "We're gonna have to move. They've only wounded to care for."
Quatre pulled him to his feet again, and Duo slung his rifle over his shoulder, adjusting the strap it hung from so that it would go over the pack he wore.
Trowa paused for an instant, considering and weighing possibilities. Duo didn't.
He pushed past his two friends, intent on finding a new vantage point he could use to pick off a few more of the men in the patrol. ~ I'd love to know what the fuck they're doing all the way out here, anyway. Shouldn't they be on base, right about now? ~ Absently he noted that Trowa and Quatre had followed him down the steep winding path cut into the cliff. Where the path doubled back on itself, there stood a pillar of rock. Duo stopped behind it to pull his rifle off his back and reload before he lowered himself onto his belly in the mix of gravel, rock dust, and mud. ~ The good thing about being this muddy is that we blend in better, at least. Heh. ~
Lightning flared, but remained up in the clouds, lighting them from within briefly.
The brief flare of light was enough to pick out the white of the patrol's uniform pants, though. ~ Aha! There you are, ~ Duo smirked to himself. Arranging the stock firmly against his shoulder, he sighted through his scope again. For a long moment, he simply watched the soldiers far below, noting the direction they were moving in. There were only three. ~ One's with the two wounded guys. ~
The leader was gesticulating, yelling at the two men he had with him, and pointed up at the cliff, seemingly right at Duo. The two men followed the line of his arm. Duo sighted, and took the shot.
The leader went down into the mud face-first, bleeding from his upper arm. The bullet had gone right through, tearing through muscle. ~ He'll live. ~ Duo nodded to himself, satisfied as the two subordinates picked up their commander and carried him into the cover of the trees.
"So, what now?" Duo didn't move from his position.
Quatre considered. "They're on the defensive. But they're between us and the pickup point. Stalemate. We'd have to either find a way through them or around them. And neither will be easy, with you a bit banged up."
Duo snorted. "You two are both fine. It'd be two-on-three. Not bad odds."
"One-on-three, really. One of us has to help you down the cliff face."
"I can walk on my own. And if we stay put for a little while?"
"I know you can, but we can't afford to have you slip and fall off a cliff. And we don't really gain anything by staying here; we'd lose more time than we already have."
Duo was still watching the edge of the trees where the three men had disappeared. "So what are you proposing?"
Trowa held up a hand as Quatre drew breath to speak. "Quatre," he said quietly, "I'll handle the last three men. You get Duo down in one piece."
"But --"
"It's the only plan that stands a chance, Quat," Duo interrupted him. "I know you don't like letting him go off alone, but... well." He shrugged.
"I know," Quatre conceded, "but I don't like it one bit. This cliff face feels very exposed."
Trowa pulled him close for a quick kiss, ignoring Duo's presence. Duo was still staring down at the tree line anyway. "I'll be back soon."
Quatre watched him turn and move rapidly down the path, nimbly avoiding slippery patches with the inherent grace he possessed.
After a minute, Duo asked, "When do we move?"
Trowa was about a quarter of the way down. "In another minute."
A flare was fired, rising in a blindingly bright arc high above the canopy of the rainforest. Quatre flinched back slightly and covered his eyes. "Nevermind. We move now."
Duo's hands flew to reload again and put the gun across his back. As he finished, he saw Trowa take a flying leap off the path from about ten meters up, launching himself into a flip and landing, albeit slightly awkwardly, in the loose gravel at the base of the cliff. "Showoff," Duo muttered.
Quatre snickered. "Yes, he is. Now come on. On your feet."
Duo managed to get to one knee before Quatre impatiently pulled him up the rest of the way, handing him his forgotten walking stick. "Okay, so let's go. We have an appointment to make."
Trowa, once he'd reached the ground, straightened with a care for his footing, then crossed the small open space, shaking the rain out of his face when it trickled down into his eyes. The three sets of footprints were already blurring under the pounding rain. Tracking them, he cautiously followed the prints back into the trees. They would likely not be expecting to be pursued. And that flare hinted that they were calling for reinforcements.
This would need to be quick and quiet.
It was just as well that he was good at both.
A short distance farther, the sounds of voices carried to him through the trees. Circling around, Trowa took advantage of the cover he had access to, watching the group for a moment.
Two able-bodied men stood guard, while the wounded patched each other up as best they could, with the help of the last uninjured man. The worst of their wounds had been bound, and none of them was going to bleed out as near as Trowa could determine. The wounded were laid out on the ground and against tree trunks in such a way as kept their injuries out of the mud.
He considered his next move. Duo had been careful only to deal non-lethal wounds. The remaining three able-bodied men needed to be dealt with in a similar fashion. And before the reinforcements they'd called for arrived. It would be easy enough to shoot them, but that seemed like overkill.
Decision made, Trowa leapt out of the cover he'd chosen, knocking one man out more or less instantly with a boot to the solar plexus. He crumpled into a heap.
The others scrambled for weapons, but weren't fast enough. The other sentry was dispatched with a sharp jab to the jaw. The last remaining man charged at Trowa, clearly intending to simply use his body weight and brute force to his advantage. The attempt was neatly foiled with a dodge and an elbow to the man's temple.
The leader and the other man who'd been shot in the arm had stood, and were aiming guns at him. Trowa smirked and raised an eyebrow at them coolly. "I suggest you drop those."
"Or else what?"
The smirk grew. "I get to use mine."
The leader, a captain judging by his the bars on his insignia[1], visibly wavered. "So?"
"Your choice. Stay where you are and put the guns down, or die."
The captain wanted to hold his ground, but the sheer presence Trowa projected convinced his subordinate to put down his weapon. Faced with odds he didn't like, and secretly in agreement with his lieutenant, the captain lowered his gun slightly, though he made no move to drop it. "And if I put my gun down, what happens then?" He snorted. "You gonna kill us?"
"No."
Surprised, the captain echoed, "No?"
Duo spoke from behind Trowa, startling the taller pilot, though Trowa showed no outward reaction. "No. All we want is to get out of here. We could have killed you several times over already if that was what we wanted."
The captain jumped, and his gun fell from his fingers in his surprise, landing in the mud with a dull splat. Duo winced for the mechanism. That would be annoying to clean later. After a moment, the captain got over his shock. "Fine. Go. I have no real alternative."
"C'mon, let's go then, guys. If we have to we can still deal with them later."
Trowa nodded, giving the captain one last long look, and the trio disappeared off into the forest, leaving the leader of the patrol wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into. And, apparently, out of.
They kept silent for several minutes, wanting to be sure they were out of earshot of the patrol. Duo, tiring now, was starting to limp more heavily as they continued on toward the pickup point.
Quatre watched him, concerned.
"Are we there yet," Duo quipped between slightly ragged breaths.
Trowa consulted his mental map. "Nearly. Another hundred meters or so."
"Thank god. I could use a hot shower and some chow."
"And some attention for that ankle of yours," Quatre added.
Duo nodded, "Yeah, probably ought to." He groaned and added, "Shit, Heero's never gonna let me live this down."
Trowa turned and gave him a level look before he kept moving. "If he gives you a hard time he'll have to deal with me. You saved our asses more than once today."
When they reached the edge of the trees ringing the large clearing, the first thing they noticed was the unremarkable beige sedan parked at the far edge, along the narrow dirt road that lead towards the city, and their current safehouse. The second thing they noticed was the figure in the car.
"Well. Bets that's Wu?" Duo grinned.
The person in the car had noticed them, now, and was waiting for them to show themselves. Duo could feel the eyes on him. Quatre stood and took a step forward.
It was enough. A window opened just wide enough for words to carry over to them. "It's about time. Get in."
The car rumbled to life, but didn't move.
Duo's grin widened, his mood immediately lifting. "I hope Wu brought towels."
Lightning arced overhead one last time, but far off in the distance. The storm had moved on. "After all, lightning never strikes twice," Duo murmured to himself. "It doesn't have to."
[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_rank#Company_grade_or_junior_officers
Title: Lightning Never Strikes Twice
Pairing/Characters: implied 1+2+1 and pre-established 3x4x3
Rating: R
Warnings/Kinks: AU/TWT, Quatre POV-ish, action
Word count: 5337
Disclaimer: I don't own them; I just like to mess with them on occasion.
Notes: ~ Thoughts ~
// sign language //
"Man, if Heero were here..." Duo wasn't quite breathing heavily yet, but he was exerting himself. Carrying equipment, guns, munitions, and explosives on a two mile trek through rainforest was work. And the humidity wasn't helping. "... he'd be on my case about not being in shape and god only knows what else."
"Duo," Quatre snorted, "if you're not in shape, where does that leave us?"
"Dunno. But you know I'm right..." Duo retorted.
"Heero is overly critical," came Trowa's calm reply, temporarily ending the conversation.
A part of the reason for the trio's slow progress... well, slower than they would have preferred... was the series of fallen trees and rockslides they had encountered on their hike down from their campsite. The facility they were targeting for this assignment was down in the river basin, where they could simply load what they had fabricated onto barges and send it where it needed to go.
And that meant a lot of climbing. Accompanied by a fair amount of cursing on Duo's part. He'd already overbalanced once, falling flat on his ass in mud that hadn't yet dried out after the night's rain. It had made a sloppy sucking sound when Quatre pulled him back up to his feet. Both had grimaced.
Duo brushed what he could off, with a glare and a sigh. "Just great. How am I gonna sneak around with gobs of mud falling off my ass?"
Quatre laughed, waving away a bug that had decided it wanted to buzz in circles around his head. "Just get rid of whatever you can. The rest will dry by the time we get there with a little luck."
"In my experience, there's no such thing as luck."
"Yes, yes. I know. Enough with the obscure references." Quatre rolled his eyes. The only reason he knew that one was Duo's insistence on sharing his collection of seemingly random pre-colony films with whoever would watch them. "Come on. We're getting behind schedule."
Setting off through the thick underbrush again, and making frequent use of his compass, Quatre took the lead. They were getting closer now, after all, having passed the halfway point between their campsite, and the manufacturing base.
After a couple of minutes of silence, Duo spoke again. "Think we'll have to adjust the plan?"
Trowa shook his head. "Why?"
"Just a gut feeling."
Quatre gave him an odd look. "Anything specific? You don't usually get cold feet."
"Hah! I wish I could be more specific."
"Best we can do is keep our eyes open, then. The plan is a go as is. Remember your part, Duo?"
"Yeah, yeah. Sneak in and plant some C-4 to take out the comm tower, then meet you guys near the HQ as it comes down and demolish the factory on the west side."
"Good."
Trowa nodded.
Duo sighed. "Damn, I hope this assignment doesn't go sour on us."
Quatre eyed him again. "It won't. And even if it does, it's not a one-man operation."
Trowa held up a hand, asking for silence, before adding in their specially developed hand signals, // Possible patrol ahead. //
// How many? // Quatre wanted to know.
// Estimate six. //
A moment later, the sound of boots crunching through the layer of leaf debris came through clearly. The three pilots quietly lowered themselves to the ground, well below eyelevel, and hidden in the tangle of brush.
// Follow them? // Duo asked.
// No. Risky. // Quatre disagreed.
Duo shrugged. // Fine. //
A voice rang out. Very nearby. "Take a break for water, men."
A boot came down much closer than the others. Duo restrained himself from giving in to his reflexive grab for it. Instead, he tensed, hoping against hope that they wouldn't be discovered. ~ Not now. Can't give away our position just yet. ~
Nothing happened, though. No startled shouts of realization.
Duo studied them. Nothing really stood out. All of them wore the standard OZ uniform, though some looked a bit bedraggled. A flash of an LED caught his attention.
~ Waaaaaaait. Shit. Several of those guys have radios. Not good. ~
Five long minutes that felt like an eternity later, the patrol moved on, thirst quenched, and still unaware of their narrow brush with death.
The three pilots slowly relaxed.
Duo grimaced, but didn't speak. ~ That could have been a disaster. ~ // Move now, or wait? // he asked.
The other two exchanged a glance. // Move, // came Trowa's vote.
Quatre considered a moment longer. // Move, // he reluctantly decided. // Patrol won't hear. //
Duo nodded, wiping away the sweat that was beading at his temples with the mostly clean side of his sleeve. // Let's go. //
He waited for the nods of acknowledgement from his two friends, before cautiously standing and ghosting away through the underbrush, quiet as the shadow he resembled.
Within minutes, they were beside the wall of the base, waiting for the guards above them to move on.
// Morons are slow. // Duo made a face.
Quatre smacked his shoulder, stifling a laugh. // Shut up. //
Duo smirked. // Fine. Fine. //
Trowa glanced up. // Move. Opening. //
Duo immediately sobered, glancing up as well. Quatre, watching Duo, thought he caught a hint of Duo's alter ego before wide violet eyes were on him, curious. The guards had turned and were walking away.
// So...? Follow me. // Duo was up the wall, free climbing, finding handholds where Quatre wasn't sure even moss could cling to the wall.
With a wry smile, he followed as best he could, feeling clumsy. Trowa stayed where he was for a moment, warily keeping an eye on their surroundings.
Reaching the top of the wall, Quatre crouched down, taking cover behind a large box, waiting for Trowa to join him before he climbed down. He glanced down over the other side of the wall. Duo was nowhere to be seen, and had clearly taken off already.
~ Here's to hoping we can get the timing of this right. We have to be in and out of this place in under half an hour. We might as well try to imitate a lightning strike. ~
Feeling a presence beside him that had not been there a moment ago, Quatre glanced over to meet Trowa's eyes. Or, at least the one that was visible under his unruly fall of hair.
// Lead. // Trowa gestured to the other side of the wall. // Jump. //
Quatre raised an eyebrow at him.
With a shrug, Trowa simply leapt off the side of the wall, executing a neat flip and landing almost silently in a crouch.
~ Showoff, ~ Quatre followed, landing solidly, but not as lightly.
Cautiously, they worked their way from building to building, careful not to be seen, making sure to give Duo enough time to complete his objective.
Ten minutes later, he and Trowa were concealed in the middle of a heap of as-yet-unfilled shipping crates. It was tempting to relax, and let one's guard down, but neither allowed himself to.
It took Duo another five minutes to reach them. Eventually, Trowa spotted him, and put his hand on Quatre's shoulder. // Let's go. //
// Coast is clear. // Duo grinned. // Time to move. //
Moving together with an ease that spoke clearly of much practice and an intimate knowledge on each others' fighting styles and tactics, they sprang into action. They had carefully made sure the factory would be shut down during the mission. For routine maintenance. It would make the mission easier in that less people would be around to spot them, and also meant fewer potential casualties.
Duo walked up to the locked door of the loading dock, more sheltered from view than the other entrances, and set to work picking the lock. It didn't take him long. He said nothing, but expression on his face spoke volumes for his disdain at just how easy the lock had been to force.
Slipping inside, the trio readied the charges they'd packed for this part of the mission. Without a word spoken, they split up, heading for three different targets. Duo the central structural supports of the roof, Trowa the main supports for the walls, and Quatre the most sensitive pieces of machinery. The ones hardest to replace, and most expensive. The ones that would cripple the factory, even if none of the other charges went off.
And also the riskiest to plant, given that the machinery was being cleaned and repaired.
Luck was with him right up until the last moment. As he planted the final charge, leaning under the machinery.
"Hey! What are you doing there?"
Quatre glanced covertly over to the others. Neither had heard, but the man's friends had.
"Dropped my wrench. Was trying to get it back."
The man's voice rose. "Wrench, my ass. Stand up and show your face!"
Now Duo's head shot up, and his eyes widened. He turned away, though. ~ Yes, get Trowa's attention, ~ Quatre thought at him.
"But sir, my wrench will..."
"I don't care about your fucking wrench, stand up! Hands where I can see them!"
Two shadows detached themselves from the wall, gliding soundlessly up behind the three maintenance men.
Duo's eyes caught Quatre's, then he signed, // On three, take him out. Moron. //
"Okay, sir."
// One. //
Quatre slowly straightened, hands slightly out from his sides.
// Two. //
Duo and Trowa positioned themselves behind their chosen targets.
// Three. //
Everything seemed to happen at once. Trowa grabbed his chosen target, the one brandishing his pipe wrench like a club, and, with one hand over his mouth and the other arm around his neck, knocked him out, quickly and quietly. Duo tapped his on the shoulder, quipping, "Excuse me," and, with a precise punch to the jaw, laid him out on the floor.
Quatre noted all of this peripherally. He crouched down and swept one foot out and around, knocking the leader off his feet, then expertly pinned him to the concrete floor, one of his victim's arms pinned to his side, and the other pulled up behind his back and the elbow forced up high enough to immobilise him.
This, of course, didn't stop the man from loudly yelling and cursing at him. Quatre, feeling time slipping away, simply knocked him out. ~ Enough of this nonsense. We need to bug out of here. ~
Standing, he asked softly, "Where do we put them? We need to disappear."
Duo shrugged. "Up against a building as far away as we can get them without being spotted. They should be okay there. The charges are set to make things implode."
~ He never did like causing unnecessary casualties, ~ Quatre mused to himself. ~ None of us does. ~ "Okay," he said aloud.
Duo nodded emphatically. "Right. Let's get on with it then. I want to be over the compound wall before the comm tower goes up."
Each of us shouldered one of the unconscious men, and we made our way, slightly awkwardly, out of the factory. Two buildings and three scares away from the rigged building, the pilots set their burdens down.
By the time the three men woke, they would be long gone, and the buildings in ruins. In all likelihood.
No longer encumbered with the slumbering deadweight of the maintenance workers, the trio rapidly worked their way across the base, dodging two patrols and a few groups of men sitting around bored, playing card games.
Trowa had ended up in the lead, and, reaching the wall, leaned back against it, bending his knees and lacing his hands together. The meaning was clear.
Quatre rested one hand on a well-muscled shoulder and his right foot in Trowa's cupped hands. A moment later, he wondered if Trowa had decided to throw him over the wall, scrambling slightly to catch the edge and pull himself up. Before he climbed over the lip of the wall, he glanced around, also listening for any cues from his friends.
Not seeing anyone, he hauled himself up, the bare concrete scratching at his torso through his clothes.
Almost immediately, Duo followed. "Come on, Quat," he whispered, "we gotta go."
"Time?"
"About thirty seconds."
"Right."
Quatre vaulted over the far side of the wall without any farther words. As he hit the ground, the low concussive booms of the charges going off in the comm tower began rolling over him. Duo landed a trifle awkwardly beside him with a thud and a low curse.
"Fuck."
"Status?" Quatre made sure to keep his voice low.
"Not sure. Twisted my right ankle."
Trowa rejoined them. "Problem?"
"There sure as hell will be if we don't get the fuck outta here," Duo responded.
"Then lead."
Duo nodded and took off, setting a pace that would be difficult to keep up for too long. He clearly had no wish to be caught inside the search radius when the OZ commanders managed to rally their patrols and begin beating the bushes.
The fast pace only lasted for about ten minutes. Duo, though stubborn, was not about to push himself or either of his friends into exhaustion. Not when they might still have to fight their way out of the area.
Their scheduled pick-up was in the same direction as their campsite, but another two miles inland, over rough terrain.
Eventually, some half hour later, they arrived back at their campsite of the night before. Duo spared a moment to look back down at the base. "Looks like we managed after all. I wondered if all the charges were gonna go off."
Smoke was rising from the comm tower, thick and oily black. The factory was simply a pile of rubble.
Quatre followed Duo's eyes, then glanced around, feeling that the light was somehow a little dimmer than before. "Guys, we'd better keep moving. I get the feeling it's about to start pouring rain again."
"Well, shit." Duo's expression hovered somewhere between resigned and pissed. "Maybe with a little luck we can avoid getting soaked. Come on."
A cold gust of wind hit the trio as he spoke, carrying the damp smell of rain and making the leaves of the trees around them rustle in the updraft. Quatre sighed. "Somehow I doubt that, but let's try."
With a nod, Duo took off, leading his friends down a shallow incline at the back of the ridge they'd camped on, heading roughly northeast. There was a narrow game trail that they could follow, but it was only intermittent and sometimes disappeared entirely, leaving them to fight through the branches of the underbrush.
As they reached the bottom of the incline, the first fat heavy drops of rain started falling. A bright bolt of lightning arced across the sky, lighting up even the forest floor so brightly it almost felt like midday. It grounded somewhere off in the distance before fading again, waves of thunder rolling over the three pilots like ocean waves.
Grumbling under his breath, Duo reached back to pull his flashlight out of his pack. He would need it if he wanted to have any hope of actually reading the compass he held, dark as it was. The clouds roiling overhead were the shade of grey he imagined the legendary tempests of old had been. Somewhere between charcoal grey and black iron.
The ground was rapidly turning into silty clay mud beneath their feet as they hiked silently on, albeit a bit more carefully now.
For his part, Quatre was mostly concerned about the last leg of their hike. Which ran almost straight down. The only way to approach the pickup point from this direction was down the side of what amounted to a steep cliff. A path had been carved into the rock, complete with switchbacks, but no handrails. It had been unnerving enough in the dry yesterday morning. But now...
Lightning arced again, grounding much closer to them, now. Thunder immediately followed the strike, almost deafening in its intensity. Some instinct warned Trowa, and he pulled Duo back by his belt. Duo squawked and flailed his arms to keep his balance, only just managing in the mud. A bare second later, with a loud groan and a crash, a tree trunk as big around as his Gundam's leg landed where Duo had been standing. He stared dumbly at it for a long moment. "Holy shit." A shudder ran through his frame, and he closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again, they sought out Trowa's. "Thanks, man."
"You're the one with the compass." It was said in his usual near monotone, but the slight smirk betrayed his amusement.
Duo snorted. "Oh, sure. I see how it is. All you want me for is my navigational skills. Hmph."
Quatre laughed at their antics. "Enough, you two. Let's keep moving. Standing around in the rain isn't going to accomplish anything."
"Yeah, yeah." Duo walked up to the gargantuan tree, scarred from its fight with the lightning, and eyed it. "Doesn't look too bad. We should be able to get over this without a problem. Just try not to pick up any splinters." Carefully tucking the compass into a zippered pocket and putting his flashlight back in his pack, he climbed up to the top of the trunk. "Walk in the park." Disappearing down the other side, he landed heavily. This time the ankle he'd twisted earlier gave under him, and he went sprawling in the mud.
Feet landed beside him as he pushed himself onto his back. "Fuck. That can't be good."
"What can't?" Quatre looked down at him, concerned.
Trowa landed lightly next to them both, having to check his balance in the slippery mud.
"Ankle gave out. And it hurts. It's probably at least sprained."
The rain seemed to get somehow colder when Quatre heard those words. He exchanged a look with Trowa. "Definitely not good. Can you stand, Duo?"
Duo flexed his ankle and foot carefully. With a grimace, he admitted. "Stand, probably. Walk, maybe. Get down that cliff later, don't think so."
Quatre's eyes hardened with resolve. "Doesn't matter. You're going to try."
"Quat--"
"Get up, Duo."
He offered a hand up to mitigate the bite of command in his words.
Duo sighed and took the hand. A moment later he was back on his feet, hissing at the twinge of pain as he tested his injured ankle. "Well, fuck my life. This whole mission has just gone from bad to worse."
Lightning struck again, the thunder than accompanied it drowning out anything the others might have said in response.
Leaning against a nearby tree, Duo took the time to untie his right boot, and then relace it, pulling the laces as tight as he could stand. It would at least give him some support. When he looked up, finished, Trowa was offering him a sturdy branch he'd broken off the downed tree and trimmed down somewhat.
"Good idea," Duo gratefully took it. Leaning his weight on the stick rather than his foot, he'd be fine. At least until they reached the cliff face. He gave the tree trunk a sour look, then gingerly took a few steps through the red mud, feeling for the limits of what he could do, and disappointed when he found them rather quickly.
Trowa wordlessly stood in front of him, blocking him from moving forward and held out a hand. Duo looked at it, then up at his friend. "What?"
"The compass."
"You want it?"
A nod.
"Fine. You can take point." Duo pulled open the zippered pocket, fishing around in it until he found the compass, securely on its lanyard. Pulling it out, he offered it to Trowa.
Trowa took it, wrapping the lanyard around his wrist, then looked over to where Quatre stood. "Duo's in the middle."
Quatre nodded.
Duo snickered. "Kinky."
With a shove to Duo's shoulder, Quatre quipped, "How would you know?"
"You guys aren't exactly quiet."
Quatre, coloring a little, decided not to say anything further on the subject. "Shut up and walk, Duo."
Making a face, Duo gave in, and they were moving again.
Despite having to slow their pace considerably, they made good time after that, and all too soon they were staring down the rainwashed cliff path. Duo looked visibly unsure of himself. Not something that happened often.
"Quat?"
"Yes?"
"Got any rope in that pack of yours?"
"No."
"Damn." He sighed. "Oh well. Here goes."
Duo almost ran right into Trowa. The tall pilot had frozen, clearly listening to something other than the conversation. "I think we may have company."
Quatre's head came up and his pistol appeared in his hand as he crouched down, making himself less of a target and allowing him to shoot more accurately. He wasn't about to be taken off guard, or without a fight. "OZ?"
// Not sure. Wait. //
Duo's pistol was still tucked safely in its holster. Instead he'd lowered himself to the ground, assembling his rifle. // Where? // He wanted to know.
// About 300 meters, at 1-o'clock. //
Peering through the scope, Duo scanned the trees. After a moment that felt like a half hour, he tensed. // Patrol. Six men. //
He sighted carefully, singling out the leader. He would get only one free shot. He'd have to make it count. As his finger tightened on the trigger, a little red LED flashed off to the guy's left. ~ Radio. Better take that guy out first. Or... do they have more? ~
Meticulously checking all the other men in the patrol, he decided that was the only guy with a radio. Carefully aiming, he smirked. ~ None of the other could do this, I'd bet. ~
The trigger tightened, then broke. The man with the radio staggered, and looked dumbly down at the strap of his pack. His radio hung there, sparking in the rain and shattered beyond all use. Another bullet took him down, striking his knee. He fell to the ground with a scream of pain.
One of his friends picked him up, slinging his arm over a shoulder, and tried to haul him off into the trees, behind some cover. A third bullet caught the second soldier solidly in the upper arm.
Duo continued sighting and shooting until all of the men in the patrol had disappeared into the trees. "We're gonna have to move. They've only wounded to care for."
Quatre pulled him to his feet again, and Duo slung his rifle over his shoulder, adjusting the strap it hung from so that it would go over the pack he wore.
Trowa paused for an instant, considering and weighing possibilities. Duo didn't.
He pushed past his two friends, intent on finding a new vantage point he could use to pick off a few more of the men in the patrol. ~ I'd love to know what the fuck they're doing all the way out here, anyway. Shouldn't they be on base, right about now? ~ Absently he noted that Trowa and Quatre had followed him down the steep winding path cut into the cliff. Where the path doubled back on itself, there stood a pillar of rock. Duo stopped behind it to pull his rifle off his back and reload before he lowered himself onto his belly in the mix of gravel, rock dust, and mud. ~ The good thing about being this muddy is that we blend in better, at least. Heh. ~
Lightning flared, but remained up in the clouds, lighting them from within briefly.
The brief flare of light was enough to pick out the white of the patrol's uniform pants, though. ~ Aha! There you are, ~ Duo smirked to himself. Arranging the stock firmly against his shoulder, he sighted through his scope again. For a long moment, he simply watched the soldiers far below, noting the direction they were moving in. There were only three. ~ One's with the two wounded guys. ~
The leader was gesticulating, yelling at the two men he had with him, and pointed up at the cliff, seemingly right at Duo. The two men followed the line of his arm. Duo sighted, and took the shot.
The leader went down into the mud face-first, bleeding from his upper arm. The bullet had gone right through, tearing through muscle. ~ He'll live. ~ Duo nodded to himself, satisfied as the two subordinates picked up their commander and carried him into the cover of the trees.
"So, what now?" Duo didn't move from his position.
Quatre considered. "They're on the defensive. But they're between us and the pickup point. Stalemate. We'd have to either find a way through them or around them. And neither will be easy, with you a bit banged up."
Duo snorted. "You two are both fine. It'd be two-on-three. Not bad odds."
"One-on-three, really. One of us has to help you down the cliff face."
"I can walk on my own. And if we stay put for a little while?"
"I know you can, but we can't afford to have you slip and fall off a cliff. And we don't really gain anything by staying here; we'd lose more time than we already have."
Duo was still watching the edge of the trees where the three men had disappeared. "So what are you proposing?"
Trowa held up a hand as Quatre drew breath to speak. "Quatre," he said quietly, "I'll handle the last three men. You get Duo down in one piece."
"But --"
"It's the only plan that stands a chance, Quat," Duo interrupted him. "I know you don't like letting him go off alone, but... well." He shrugged.
"I know," Quatre conceded, "but I don't like it one bit. This cliff face feels very exposed."
Trowa pulled him close for a quick kiss, ignoring Duo's presence. Duo was still staring down at the tree line anyway. "I'll be back soon."
Quatre watched him turn and move rapidly down the path, nimbly avoiding slippery patches with the inherent grace he possessed.
After a minute, Duo asked, "When do we move?"
Trowa was about a quarter of the way down. "In another minute."
A flare was fired, rising in a blindingly bright arc high above the canopy of the rainforest. Quatre flinched back slightly and covered his eyes. "Nevermind. We move now."
Duo's hands flew to reload again and put the gun across his back. As he finished, he saw Trowa take a flying leap off the path from about ten meters up, launching himself into a flip and landing, albeit slightly awkwardly, in the loose gravel at the base of the cliff. "Showoff," Duo muttered.
Quatre snickered. "Yes, he is. Now come on. On your feet."
Duo managed to get to one knee before Quatre impatiently pulled him up the rest of the way, handing him his forgotten walking stick. "Okay, so let's go. We have an appointment to make."
Trowa, once he'd reached the ground, straightened with a care for his footing, then crossed the small open space, shaking the rain out of his face when it trickled down into his eyes. The three sets of footprints were already blurring under the pounding rain. Tracking them, he cautiously followed the prints back into the trees. They would likely not be expecting to be pursued. And that flare hinted that they were calling for reinforcements.
This would need to be quick and quiet.
It was just as well that he was good at both.
A short distance farther, the sounds of voices carried to him through the trees. Circling around, Trowa took advantage of the cover he had access to, watching the group for a moment.
Two able-bodied men stood guard, while the wounded patched each other up as best they could, with the help of the last uninjured man. The worst of their wounds had been bound, and none of them was going to bleed out as near as Trowa could determine. The wounded were laid out on the ground and against tree trunks in such a way as kept their injuries out of the mud.
He considered his next move. Duo had been careful only to deal non-lethal wounds. The remaining three able-bodied men needed to be dealt with in a similar fashion. And before the reinforcements they'd called for arrived. It would be easy enough to shoot them, but that seemed like overkill.
Decision made, Trowa leapt out of the cover he'd chosen, knocking one man out more or less instantly with a boot to the solar plexus. He crumpled into a heap.
The others scrambled for weapons, but weren't fast enough. The other sentry was dispatched with a sharp jab to the jaw. The last remaining man charged at Trowa, clearly intending to simply use his body weight and brute force to his advantage. The attempt was neatly foiled with a dodge and an elbow to the man's temple.
The leader and the other man who'd been shot in the arm had stood, and were aiming guns at him. Trowa smirked and raised an eyebrow at them coolly. "I suggest you drop those."
"Or else what?"
The smirk grew. "I get to use mine."
The leader, a captain judging by his the bars on his insignia[1], visibly wavered. "So?"
"Your choice. Stay where you are and put the guns down, or die."
The captain wanted to hold his ground, but the sheer presence Trowa projected convinced his subordinate to put down his weapon. Faced with odds he didn't like, and secretly in agreement with his lieutenant, the captain lowered his gun slightly, though he made no move to drop it. "And if I put my gun down, what happens then?" He snorted. "You gonna kill us?"
"No."
Surprised, the captain echoed, "No?"
Duo spoke from behind Trowa, startling the taller pilot, though Trowa showed no outward reaction. "No. All we want is to get out of here. We could have killed you several times over already if that was what we wanted."
The captain jumped, and his gun fell from his fingers in his surprise, landing in the mud with a dull splat. Duo winced for the mechanism. That would be annoying to clean later. After a moment, the captain got over his shock. "Fine. Go. I have no real alternative."
"C'mon, let's go then, guys. If we have to we can still deal with them later."
Trowa nodded, giving the captain one last long look, and the trio disappeared off into the forest, leaving the leader of the patrol wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into. And, apparently, out of.
They kept silent for several minutes, wanting to be sure they were out of earshot of the patrol. Duo, tiring now, was starting to limp more heavily as they continued on toward the pickup point.
Quatre watched him, concerned.
"Are we there yet," Duo quipped between slightly ragged breaths.
Trowa consulted his mental map. "Nearly. Another hundred meters or so."
"Thank god. I could use a hot shower and some chow."
"And some attention for that ankle of yours," Quatre added.
Duo nodded, "Yeah, probably ought to." He groaned and added, "Shit, Heero's never gonna let me live this down."
Trowa turned and gave him a level look before he kept moving. "If he gives you a hard time he'll have to deal with me. You saved our asses more than once today."
When they reached the edge of the trees ringing the large clearing, the first thing they noticed was the unremarkable beige sedan parked at the far edge, along the narrow dirt road that lead towards the city, and their current safehouse. The second thing they noticed was the figure in the car.
"Well. Bets that's Wu?" Duo grinned.
The person in the car had noticed them, now, and was waiting for them to show themselves. Duo could feel the eyes on him. Quatre stood and took a step forward.
It was enough. A window opened just wide enough for words to carry over to them. "It's about time. Get in."
The car rumbled to life, but didn't move.
Duo's grin widened, his mood immediately lifting. "I hope Wu brought towels."
Lightning arced overhead one last time, but far off in the distance. The storm had moved on. "After all, lightning never strikes twice," Duo murmured to himself. "It doesn't have to."
[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_rank#Company_grade_or_junior_officers