Another set of pictures slipped out of the files and cursing himself for his clumsy move, he squatted to the ground to pick them up. It were just three pictures of Chang again in the same environment talking to the mechanic. The same mechanic was better visible at the second picture and Heero stared at his face. He had a round face with an exuberant, out-going expression, with sparkling eyes and a wide smile. On this picture his chestnut hair was better visible and it was indeed a long braid, reaching his lower back. Heero stared dumbfounded at the picture.
"You can assume your studies at your own office," Une admonished, sounding sourly. She caught his every move; nothing escaped the attention of this woman.
"I was just wondering if the second man on the picture would be an interesting link to Chang," he answered stiffly. She bared her teeth.
"This picture was taken in a garage. Even though it sounds unlikely of Chang having his car repaired, I don't esteem this mechanic worthy of his attention."
"I beg to differ," Heero said, studying the picture again. "The man is very friendly and open connecting to Chang. Maybe they're friends? He's far too relaxed in his stance- Chang, I mean."
"Let me see." She adjusted her glasses when he handed her the picture. "Hmmm...I don't think you're right, still. I don't know the exact circumstances- Ventei had to clear out pretty fast after taking the pictures. He told me that Chang seemed pretty relaxed, though, but we don't know much about Chang. Maybe he's very easy to deal with- until you get on his bad side. May I remind you that he possibly is the Chang that Dermail referred to- Chang has been arrested before, but that was for participating in a demonstration and exclaiming anti-Earth forces slogans. Nothing with the computer chip smuggling."
"Most of the time renowned terrorists start out easy," Heero mumbled. He wanted the picture back- he was fascinated by the young man with the long braid. He vowed to himself to get after him first- he could get at least some more information about Chang out of him.
"Stick to the mission Yuy, that's what you do and what you do best. The mission." She returned the picture to him, but eyed him with her piercing glare. "Don't forget to go past J."
Heero bowed to her again, put the picture back into the file and left her office. He ignored Lucrezia's death glare once again; the Queen of the World storming out of the head supervisor of the secret service was something you didn't see every day. He winced mentally; there was something he had to do before he would go past J, the inventor and gadgets provider of the secret service.
It was a miracle on its own that Heero remembered where his office was; he wasn't often at the Head Quarters, let alone at his office. It was a tiny, seven square metered closed office with only a desk, a filing cabinet and two chairs. Sylvia Noventa, his secretary who also worked for a few other agents, almost dropped her jaw to the floor when she saw him. She had long since learned not to transfer phone calls or to bother him with paper work.
"Mister Yuy! I...I didn't think you were coming! The Queen...she is..."
"In my office, I know." He saw she was holding a glass of water. "Is that for her?"
The blonde girl nodded. Heero took it from her.
"Thank you, that'll be all." She nodded again and left for her own office at the end of the hallway.
Heero opened his office. It smelled stuffy; he hadn't opened the window in a year or so. Relena sat in the chair opposite his desk; head bowed to her chin, hands resting in her lap, shoulders slumped. Heero retrieved a chair from behind his desk and carefully placed it next to her and took his seat.
"Relena, I'm sorry. I...I didn't have the right to..."
She looked at him, smiling wanly. "I'm the one who should apologize, Heero." She hiccupped. She had pulled her hair loose and the wheat blonde hair framed her face, giving her a much younger appearance. He offered her a handkerchief.
"I don't want to hear anything about you apologizing. I should've known better- we hold different views on people, and I shouldn't be so blunt about it."
"It's just that...that I feel sorry for you, Heero." She shook her head. "I don't know if I'm using the right word, but I pity you. You close yourself off, fortifying your impenetrable walls and I just can't help but feel sorry for you. You're missing out on so much. You don't even allow yourself to get close to your friends. Do you have friends, Heero?"
"In my kind of business friends are a liability and a possible danger and threat. Even our...friendship is dangerous- they could use you to get to me, or use me to get to you."
She looked up. "You're not alive, Heero. Really, you're not."
"I'm sorry," he answered, more out of routine.
"I have given up hope long ago about changing you, about thinking I could be the one for you," she said and lifted up her hand to stroke his cheek. He allowed her to touch him.
"You know I care a lot about you, and I long for you to be happy. To be happy with someone."
"Again, Relena, in my line of work..."
"You take such big risks in your work. I know all about it, Heero- no, don't deny it. You've broken more limbs than I can keep track of; you've been in so much danger so often that I've lost count of it. Yes, you bring home the best results, you've got more praise than you can imagine, but still- you don't take a risk in your personal life. Why else are you still alone?"
"Relena, I don't need anyone to feel complete. I'm happy as it is."
"So sad," she said. "I know about the pain, Heero. I felt the same when I realized that we weren't meant for each other, that you would never love me that way I do, that...that really hurt."
"I understand," he said. "I'm sorry, Relena. I don't want to cause you any pain."
She smiled. "I'm not pressing you into a relationship, Heero. I want you to be happy with the partner of your choice, of course. I just want to remind you that there are people who care for you, and that it won't hurt you to trust one or two friends once in a while. Don't give me that look, Heero- not everybody turns around to twist you a knife in the back. Yes. You've had friends who've turned on you or who haven't treated you right, that happened to me too. But I've maintained my faith, and not have it replaced by mistrust. It's life, that's what happens. Don't lose all your faith and hope, Heero. The world would be a rotten place without it."
She stood up, smoothed out her skirt and smiled. Without another word, she left the office. Heero maintained his position in the chair, looking straightforward.
"The world already is a rotten place," he mumbled, not really believing it himself. He sighed, letting the silence in the office go past him.
The laboratories and other practice rooms the inventors had to their disposal, were located in the basement and Heero took the stairs for his daily exercise. When he opened the large door, he was greeted with a harsh: "Close it! Close it, you idiot!"
A cloud of fire and smoke approached him and only because of his fast reflexes Heero was able to throw himself to the ground, rolling away from the blast. He was back on his feet within a few seconds, adrenaline pumping through his body.
"What the hell, J?" He barked, looking at the scorched door.
An elderly man with more synthetic prosthetics for limbs than Heero cared to remember, cackled loudly and flicked some strands of greasy gray hair over his shoulder while shuffling towards the secret agent.
"Well, if it isn't 001! What made you come visit us geezers?"
Heero gritted his teeth. He didn't know what came over Une when she hired this scientist- a lunatic scientist, and four extra of them to boot. They were named after a certain letter in the alphabet and Heero didn't know -or care- if it had something to do with their first name or not. They were named G, S, O, H and J, of course- all experts in several scientific fields, and hired by Une to develop new gadgets and high-tech aids to assist the secret agents. J was assigned to the top ranks: Heero and two other agents who he didn't know by name, even though he suspected one of them was 006, Zechs Marquise, the agent with the infuriating sloppy attitude, and who managed to wheedle himself through every mission and made sure every woman at the office received his special attention. Heero wouldn't hold it for impossible that even Une had fallen for the man's charms- to him, Marquise was a second rate agent who only managed to keep himself out of large trouble because of his intelligence; 006 was not to be underestimated...he just didn't like to do all the hard work.
The old man cackled again. "So you made the Queen of the World cry again, didn't you naughty boy?"
"I see gossip is traveling fast, as usual," Heero answered sourly. J patted him on the back. "You know I admire the one who can make her run around like a love stricken sap."
Heero flinched mentally, but didn't show any annoyance on his face. He knew that Relena was over her childhood infatuation for him -even though he doubted that sometimes, seeing her reactions- but apparently it ripped open old wounds. He still was struck by the fact that she actually bothered to come visit him and sit next to him when he was handed a new mission. Did it only have something to do with the fact that she feared political complications? He remembered the name of Dermails granddaughter, Dorothy Catalonia, and made a mental note to do some research into her and to see what danger she represented.
"Earth to Yuy," the old scientist rumbled and tugged at Heero's sleeve. "You might think I have all day, but I don't. Get over here, I've been working on some nice new things for you."
Heero followed the man obediently to a table covered with clutter, unfinished gadgets and junk he didn't think was worth one penny; J started digging around in the mess and unearthed some of his equipment.
"Here you are, 001- the standard pieces...a Watermark 1990 ballpoint pen with laser, a Breil watch with the usual functions: Geiger teller, stopwatch, chronometer, cholesterol meter, garrote, time zones calculator, etcetera...I have here your coat.."
"What's with the coat?"
"Ah, let me demonstrate you." The scientist put on the coat and stuffed his hands into the pockets. Heero noticed J's barely visible movement with his fingers, and the top button sprang away from the coat to land several feet further- and exploded on impact.
"You'll never know when it comes in handy," the scientist grinned, shrugging out of the coat. "Here, it's nice for this type of weather too. Furthermore, here is your wallet with copy facilities, credit cards with bug detection, x-ray sunglasses and a fine-tuned bow tie, for if you have a ball or a dance. It can jam radar equipment and you can transmit with it as well."
"I'm going after gundanium microchips smugglers, I'm not going to have a ball," Heero said, eying the rest of the equipment. J turned around, a look of surprise written on his face. The elderly man whistled.
"Gundanium? Why, I haven't heard of that material since the wars!"
"Interesting," another voice mingled into the discussion. Heero had long since noticed one of the other scientists, G, approaching them. The man was even uglier than J with an impressive hooked nose and mushroom shaped gray hair. "I wish we had some gundanium to work with. The things we could make for the agents! Very, very interesting..." his voice drifted off. J turned his head, addressing Heero.
"Gundanium can only be manufactured in outer space, as the process is very difficult and consuming," he said. "It's the most excellent material for mobile suits. It's light compared to other materials, and has a high damage tolerance. Chips made out of gundanium make excellent commanding systems, Heero."
"I know," Heero answered, filing the information away for future use. He couldn't divulge any other or more information, so he brusquely ignored J's obvious intention to discuss the matter more. G threw him a questioning look, but didn't continue.
"What do you have for transport?"
The scientist didn't pursue the previous topic either. "I fixed the BMW and upgraded it, but please, don't wreck it like you last did. No matter how advanced the car might be, it doesn't withstand another plunge like before- not to mention how much it hurts when the wreck is brought here."
"Sorry," Heero mumbled. J handed him the keys.
"Here you are, it's parked outside. Please do read the manual this time and don't start hitting random buttons, okay 001?"
He heard the other scientists cackling and slammed the door shut, feeling pretty irritated.
------------------
Heero finished packing and took a last look at the classified files. He had memorized every little shred of information on Dorothy Catalonia. The girl didn't represent a very high danger to Relena, if not a danger at all- if she was to form a political alliance, it would be the problem of the Queen of the World, not his. He was only for the secret service, not for political intervention, and at this moment the smuggling and the consequences of two thousand gundanium chips had his top priority attention.
The last sighting of Chang had been at L4, confirming Heero’s suspicions about the well-funding. It wasn't clear if Chang was the one to buy the chips, or if he belonged to a certain rebel faction; the very little information available about the Chinese man hadn't helped him much- but at this moment, he was his only lead. Heero put in the last of his shirts in the suitcase. He would go under the name of Odin Lowe, if only to pursue his last leading trail with Dermail. Heero assumed that his contacts he established as Lowe, would give him the benefit of the doubt; anyone in his situation would've stayed low after the assassination of Dermail. He still had to figure out who was responsible for that as well. Enough work to do. He snapped the bands on his suitcase shut and pondered.
As long as he could remember, L4 was the home colony of the Winner family. The previous head of the family had been killed during a revolt by the population and the current Winner head -Quatre Raberba Winner- didn't seem to have any trouble with the colonists. Maybe because everybody was sick and tired of war, or was his predecessor not fit for the job...or was the blonde billionaire, renowned for his empathic abilities, up to something? Could he really be plotting to start a war, out of revenge? Heero sighed.
His adoptive father, Odin Lowe, had taught him so much, but also transferred his paranoia on to him. Heero didn't mind a healthy dose of mistrust, but sometimes when he thought back to Relena’s words, he knew she was right. He didn't allow anyone in his life- not only was he not interested, they often represented danger or hurt- friends, a life partner, they could be used against him, turn against him, were a liability. He wasn't surprised by human actions and automatically assumed the worse. Maybe it was time to change that- but his line of work made hem more cautious. He moved in dangerous circles, and he couldn't trust anyone as soon as he emerged in those circles again.
Heero had to be in time to catch the space flight to L4. He didn't expect to find Chang there, but he had a lead to someone close to Dermail. General Septem could be the one who had knowledge on Chang's whereabouts. He picked up his tickets and checked his watch again. Goodbye Heero Yuy, hello Odin Lowe.
---------------------
The spaceport was crowded and Heero weaved through the stream of people. L4 was definitely one of the most prosperous colonies, courtesy of the influential Winner Enterprises. He collected his suitcase and took a cab to the nearest hotel, longing for a moment of silence after the long trip to collect his thoughts about approaching General Septem. He knew that Septem wasn't a general, just as Duke Dermail hadn't been a real duke; apparently, they both appreciated old militaristic titles and habits more than the newer rebel factions.
The news about Dermail's death and the confiscation of the gundanium chips must've been widespread by now, Heero assumed. The news about the confiscation wasn't worldly announced - the Earth government decided that it was in the best interest to not give rumor about even the existence of the gundanium chips- but every rebel faction would know. Still, there was that thief who stole the original Gundam construction plans and designs- quite a cunning job to steal that under the very noses of the conservators. Heero hadn't known that there was still interest in the mobile suit designs- how could anyone be interested in reviving those dangers to society? Would anyone really be as...desperate as to revive the Gundams for their own goals?
The cab dropped him off at Star Hotel and he checked in. An average hotel, an average room with the basic furniture- bed, chair, desk, TV. Heero took a shower first; the nightlife would be the only place to gather information and he had plenty of time to get some rest and dinner before making his way onto the streets. In his years as a secret agent, Heero had established contacts on every colony; Nichol being one of them. This man was a fence with a mean streak in him; he was one of the first to confirm Heero's distrust towards people. Nichol was a prime example of someone who would act nicely in the face, only to turn around and give a stab in the back, and in his case, twist it a few times extra. Heero knew it wouldn't take much time for the news about his arrival to travel around; people would learn soon enough that Odin Lowe had returned.
--------------------
The Sphere Lounge was packed; the mass of sweating bodies didn't really appeal to Heero, but he made his way through the dancing crowd with his usual determination. He knew Nichol for a while now; he’d certainly find him in the back, draped with girls and a drink in his hand.
Heero spotted the man with the short cropped dark brown hair and out-of-fashion sideburns indeed at the back of the establishment. To his surprise, he was flanked by only one man sitting next to him; a young guy with light brown hair. They both looked up expectantly when Heero approached them. Nichol even rose from his chair, though he didn't bother to outstretch his hand.
"Lowe, news had it that you were back in town again."
"Nichol, such a pleasure to see you again." Heero didn't hide the disdain and superiority in his voice. It was part of his Odin Lowe persona, to not allow anyone to intimidate him and to treat everybody with a certain arrogance. He was more bound to be remembered that way- a shy attitude would bring him nowhere in this kind of business.
"Have a seat."
Heero sat down in the tacky gold and red velour chair and looked at Nichol. "What's the status?"
"The merchandise is gone," the man said, using wide and exaggerated moves to lit a cigarette. "Ten million down the drain. The Duke certainly was a greedy little piece of work."
"He's been dealt with, rather forcefully."
"Yeah- and you were close when that happened, too."
"I'm glad you cut to the chase," Heero said. He eyed the young looking man sitting on Nichol's left- a quiet observer, but too young and too inexperienced to escape Heero's attention.
"What's with your partner?" He prompted.
"Walker here is new to the business. He has some ties, and if he does well, he can opt for the Duke's position."
"So fast?"
Nichol shrugged. "You know how fast this business moves. I'm surprised to see you again Lowe, you've been out of it for a few weeks. If you don't deliver or keep to your word, you're gone."
"My deal with Dermail was blown off. I still have the goods for sale."
"No one wants your shitty conductors. I don't know why Dermail was interested in them in the first place. Everybody is only talking about the gundanium chips now."
"Dermail was interested because my conductors were the only one compatible with the chips," Heero answered him dryly. From the look of Nichols bulging eyes, he had him hook, line and sinker.
"What the hell?"
"How do you think I feel, Nichol? I was about to make a great deal when some idiot decided to put a bullet in the Duke's head. I still want to get my hands on the fucker who did that."
Nichol started to laugh boisterously, closely followed by Walker. "You? Well, if your merchandise is really as good as you're saying, than they will come out of their own to you."
"They?" Heero narrowed his eyes.
"They," Nichol repeated, enjoying the slight upper hand he had. He blew out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "If your conductors are as good as you say, they will find their way to you. Don't sweat it, Odin."
Heero started to fume. He didn't like being addressed with his first name. "You're walking a fine line, Nichol. What makes you so confident?"
"I'm the only one who can introduce you to the circle, so the friendlier you are to me, the sooner you can sell your wares. If you don't mind waiting or praying for them to come to you, then I won't do nothing for you. I know a few on the inside."
"Good for you," Heero snarled. "I'm not about to listen to you, Nichol. I'm offering you the scoop of the availability of the conductors- take it or leave it. They will find me eventually, just like you said yourself."
Nichol motioned a waitress to order some drinks. "Still on the wodka-martini?"
Heero decided to accept- he needed to keep his head clear, but it would be too conspicuous to decline. The girl left after the drinks were ordered and Nichol put out his cigarette, leaning forward.
"Things are going well, Lowe. Soon, I can start on a second club and this one is doing fine as it is."
"Does Chang protect you?" Heero asked bluntly. He was satisfied when he saw Nichol's arm waver.
"What? Chang himself? Man, he's way too busy to occupy himself with little ol' me. I'm on the lower ranks, you know."
"I know." Heero couldn't resist rubbing it in. Nichol glared at him.
"You don't have a rank at all."
"No, but I have the conductors. Point in my favor."
"You don't know shit if Chang wants them."
"So Chang was behind the smuggling?"
Nichol wriggled on his chair, cornered now he had blabbed. "Well, no, not really. Chang has nothing to do with the smuggling, but he was highly interested in the chips. I don't know if he was the definitive bidder, though."
"Any leads to who the highest bidder was?"
Nichol scowled. "You don't really think that I would know that?"
"You have big ears." Heero accepted the drink from the waitress and a silence fell. After a few minutes, Walker finally said something.
"The highest bidder is only known in the highest ranks. I doubt the Duke would've known it."
"What about the General?"
Nichol almost spat out his drink. "You're certainly not thinking of approaching him about it?"
"Why not? You could introduce me."
"Forget it. The General is way too busy- he has gundanium chips to deliver, remember? He has to get them from somewhere."
Heero snorted. "You don't pull two thousand gundanium chips out of nowhere. It's going to cost you: time and money."
"That's why they're going to steal them back," Nichol smirked. "Fabrication and duplication of the chips would be time consuming and more likely than not, the new batch would be more prone to errors than the first one. That's why it's decided to steal them back."
Heero barked a short laugh. "Who's going to walk out with two thousand gundanium chips out of the fortified national vault?"
Nichol smirked again. "Simple," he said, and took a swig of his drink. "Shinigami is."
----------------------
The neon lights hurt his eyes. Heero closed the shutters of the hotel room and walked over to his laptop, pontifically put on his desk. He had searched the Internet for this Shinigami person- he know from his ethnic background that it literally translated to "God of Death", but it was more of a general name. The God of Death had much more significance in Japanese mythology and Heero wasn't even sure if it was one deity in particular- the legends and myths were far too complex to fathom. He shrugged. It had to be a code name, no doubt, for a very talented thief, if he - or she? - planned to walk out of the vault with all those chips. However, if it was the same thief who managed to lift the original Gundam designs, he probably would also succeed in stealing the chips.
Using a special program on his laptop, Heero send an encrypted message to headquarters about the intended theft; hopefully it would urge Une to take proper precautions and beef up security. If those chips would fall into rebel hands, they could cause some serious damage if they really were to rebuild mobile suits, and Gundams in particular. He knew he'd have to hurry to get to the core of this particular problem- as soon as became clear which organization was responsible for the smuggling. It was clear that Dermail hadn't operated on his own; but he was killed before he could reveal more information.
Nonetheless, Heero knew where he could find General Septem, and that man was next on his list. He still had the solid cover of the conductors; it hadn't been a lie that they were the only compatible ones with the gundanium chips. If the rebel faction employed their own engineers, it was certainly possible that they could produce their own conductors- it would take lots of time and effort, and Heero wanted to keep the upper hand by selling the pre-made product. It was a feeble bait, but a bait nonetheless. It was his only hope of penetrating the tight circle on his search mission for Chang.
---------------------------
The ball room certainly wouldn't outdo Relena's idea of a good party or one of the many receptions and banquets she had to attain in her duty as Queen of the World. L4 demonstrated this evening where the colony was known for; luxury, decadence, cheap gold, too much of everything. Heero scowled at the guests, but tried to keep his face in its own, placid expression. He was on the lookout for General Septem, a man with truly the most fake smile in the world and a horrible voice to boot. The man was attending this charity ball while he was guilty of gundanium chips smuggle and possible conspiracy against the ESUN government.
Heero tugged at his collar. He left his Walther PPK gun back at the hotel- he wasn't here to start a fight, but to observe and to establish contact between him and Septem. A perfectly dressed woman with jewelry ten times his gross income passing him was echoing the rumors floating around that Quatre Winner would be coming to this party. Heero shrugged; he wasn't really convinced that the well-known benefactor would show up himself- the man was probably swamped with work and wouldn't be missing out on this umpteenth ball anyway.
A woman with blonde hair tried to make eye contact with him, but after a single glare she quickly looked away and tried to harp someone else into conversation. Heero accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and lifted up his hand. The sleeve of his jacket crept up and revealed his watch; the in-built camera was already working, recording the guests present. There was a great possibility of more smugglers being present here- he would file the footage by e-mail to headquarters later.
"That's a very nice watch."
Heero mentally slapped himself for letting his guard down. He hadn't heard the woman approaching, and forced himself to turn around and smile at her. She wasn't a pompous woman plastered with make-up and packed with jewelry, but a nice, albeit tom-boyish looking girl with short cropped black hair, bangs framing her face. Her dress was a plain dark blue one, and she only wore a small silver necklace.
"Is it a genuine Breil, Diamond 7400 series?" He moved his wrist so she could take a better look at it. "Yes, it is. Wow."
"You certainly know your watches."
"Let's say I have a good eye for pretty things," she winked at him, "and I always get what I want. If not legal, then illegal."
"So, how's the illegal business been lately?"
She laughed. "My name's Hilde Schbeiker. You are..?"
"Lowe, Odin Lowe," Heero introduced himself and he saw something changing in her eyes, making the connection. It immediately sharpened his senses. If she knew his name and connected him to Dermail and his demise, she was probably moving into certain circles, and not the regular ball guest he was keeping her for.
"Terrible business," she said, shaking her head. "How did you manage to escape?"
"The shooter obviously wasn't targeting me," Heero answered. "I had no troubles whatsoever to leave the place."
"Strange," she tapped at her chin, revealing some pretty gold rings with diamonds in a rather laborious setting. "I know lots of people who wanted Dermail dead, how impersonal it may sound. His merchandise was already terrible tainted and he double-crossed a lot of people."
Heero was taken aback. Surely this girl didn't speak aloud about Dermails shady business at a charity ball, or was she really that stupid?
She smiled again, a disarming smile. "It's a terrible blow for his granddaughter. She has to finish his business, I guess. Maybe she's interested?"
He knew she was referring to his conductors. Good, that meant that Nichol had blabbed about his visit to his club and that word was spreading about Odin Lowe being back in town again.
"I haven't heard from the Dermail estate," Heero answered courteously. He put his glass down and offered the girl her arm.
"May I ask this dance from you?"
"One dance only," she answered. "I'm with someone."
"Very well." Heero smiled back at her and recognized the foxtrot the orchestra was playing. They swiftly moved on to the dance floor.
"So miss Schbeiker, you're in the business as well?"
She laughed again. "I'm only for the loose ends," she said. "I know a few people, but not that much. I'm not the one to discuss your matter."
"Maybe you know to who I can talk to?"
"Mister Lowe, not too audacious, please."
"My apologies." He swirled her around, carefully following the music. After the dance was over, she made a curtsy for him.
"Pleased to have danced with you, mister Lowe." She wanted to rise up again and yelped when two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her up.
"Hilde! Why, I ought to put a leash on you. Leaving me in the cloak-room and dancing with handsome young men when I look the other way!" The unknown man put the girl back on her feet and turned her around, giving her two exuberant pecks on the cheek. Heero stood flabbergasted. Before him was the man from the picture. The one with the braid. The mechanic standing next to Chang.
"No offense," the man addressed him, voice a bit raspy but rich in tones, "but I always get a bit nervous when she acquaints with someone I don't know...yet." He looked at Heero and smiled. It was as if Heero was struck with a ten ton hammer in the head. The man before him was a dream come true. He was vibrant with life- sporting the same, healthy red cheeks as in the picture, and showing large, shining eyes with blue and violet hints in it. With the dazzling chestnut hair carefully braided, swinging as if it had a will on its own, and clad in a perfectly smoking, just like Heero's, made the stranger even look more attractive. Hilde's voice seemed to come from far, far away.
"Duo, meet Odin Lowe. Mister Lowe, meet Duo Maxwell."
"Please to meet you," Heero said, quickly coming to his wits and outstretching his hand. He got a pleasant, though firm shake back.
"My pleasure," Duo commented. "I take it Hilde has been a pleasure to dance with? Do you mind if I take over?"
"Yes and no," Heero answered and he was rewarded with a boisterous laugh. Hilde swung her arms casually around Duo’s shoulders and Heero had trouble keeping his face straight. Damn!
"Maybe we'll meet again, Mister Lowe," she said and winked at him, though not in a flirtatious matter. Duo grabbed her other hand and they assumed the dance position for a quickstep. Without a partner, Heero retreated from the dance floor and looked for a place to observe without being observed himself. His eyes were glued to the man who danced like it came all natural to him. Duo Maxwell. He was no longer the 'unidentified bystander' from the picture. Seeing him dancing the night away, Heero firmly squashed his jealous feelings for Hilde Schbeiker. He wasn't about to have feelings, certainly not romantic feelings, for someone he had just met, and more than likely was "on the bad side". This was what he always feared and this couldn't be happening. Not to him. He gulped.
Heero reminded himself that he had to find General Septem, and from the voices coming from the left, he pegged the man instantly. He had the most obnoxious voice ever, raspy and screeching. Heero abandoned his position and was about to approach the general, when he saw Duo and Hilde leaving the dance floor and walking in the same direction. No! The thought surprised him, but he didn't have time to wonder about it- Septem walked up to the couple and greeted them, by shaking Duo's hand and pecking Hilde on her cheeks. Septem gestured wildly with his arm, probably to invite them over at his table. They complied and two waiters were immediately at the table, presenting drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Heero gritted his teeth. This could be a long night. He decided against approaching them at this moment, not being sure about the mutual connection. He remembered from the picture that Duo was standing awfully close to Chang in a pretty friendly matter- he had to outwait the evening and hoping that Duo Maxwell would lead him to Chang.
The evening dragged on and Heero stopped listening to the music and the rumors a long time ago, declining any offered drinks. His interest had piqued when he saw the trio finally stand op; Septem, Duo and Hilde -he didn't want to argue with his mind why he referred to them with their first names bade their farewells and started leaving the room. Heero made up his mind; he would follow Duo. He made his way quickly through the crowd to exit after them. Duo addressed the valet boy to get his car; he had draped his coat on Hilde’s shoulders.
"What's next?" Heero heard her say, voice clear in the night.
"Let's go for a nightcap," Duo answered in his strangely melodious baritone- or it sounded at least melodious to Heero's ears. He made his way over to the parking lot to start his own BMW, not allowing himself to lose Duo out of sight. Hilde stepped into the car while Duo held the door open for her; it was a black Pontiac TransAm, probably a Before Colony one. He sped away, with Heero going into pursuit.
------------------