“This doesn’t match the outline of the factory. Benedetti has a good old cellar under his ass, that’s for sure.”
I pull up the blueprints of the factory, and match it with the outlines detected by the thermographic device, even though I already know that Duo’s right. The laptop calculates the results; there’s 75% more mass present than the blueprints show.
“A good, incredibly large old cellar,” I mutter.
“Adalberto sure forgot to show me that one,” Duo grins, putting the end of the pencil into his mouth and chewing on it. “The sublevel is far larger than the original premises. Benedetti is really anticipating a busy market, isn’t he?”
I shrug, focusing my attention on the overlap on the pictures. “As long as people will fight, there will be people manufacturing Mobile Suits.”
“The urge to destroy is inherent to mankind,” Duo says. “As long as people destroy, they need the Mobile Suits to help them with the destruction.”
“Mankind is pretty good in destroying even without Mobile Suits, Duo,” I retort, not really liking the direction this conversation is going.
He shrugs as well, pointing again at the pictures. “This sublevel is large enough to house everything needed for the manufacturing of Mobile Suits.”
“Agreed. We’re going in tonight to see..”
“What do you mean, ‘we’?” He interrupts me, looking at me incredulously. “I can place that modem all by myself, and you know that.”
“No modem,” I shake my head, “I go with you and download the files at the location. We’ll decide what to do about the factory that very moment.”
“Doesn’t Wufei need to study the data first before taking a decision?”
“I’ll transfer it to him immediately. He’ll be monitoring us.”
“What? Monitoring? Fucking hell Heero, he doesn’t need to baby-sit us! We can deal with this mission ourselves!”
“It’s not like that and you know it,” I respond, my voice clipped. “Wufei will be in our vicinity and taking the decision as soon as he’s received the documents. He’s not monitoring our movements; he’s monitoring our method to deliver the data to him and will let us know immediately what course of action we need to take after the assessment of said data.”
“So why do you need to come along? I can hack any computer as well as you do, and you don’t need to take the risk. Two is riskier than one.”
It… hurts. It hurts that he… somehow doesn’t want me there. I try to tell myself that Duo is just brainstorming, weighing pros and cons, that he’s talking about how he sees the mission, and not to keep me away to change into something without anyone nosy around. I can’t tell Duo that Wufei wants me to be close to him, to keep an eye on him. What is Wufei expecting anyway- that Duo changes into some kind of supernatural being at night? He lies beside me every night, sound asleep; he does rise earlier than me, but I associate the God of Death with late after midnight, not at the rising of the sun. Maybe I’m mistaken… but if I really am, then I’ve been mistaken my whole life.
“Wufei’s orders,” I answer him finally, cowardly. It’s hiding behind orders of a superior officer; officially Wufei is the same level as us, but he’s in command of this mission. He runs this show- we’re here to assist him. Duo moves his lips as if he wants to pout, but he turns them into a disapproving scowl. It makes me feel guilty again, but at this moment I can’t do a thing about it. As soon as this mission’s over, I’ll talk to Wufei and then I’ll inform Duo as well. I already know he’s going to flip when he hears what Une thinks- he’s probably going to visit her and give her a piece of his own mind. I’ve been on the receiving end of a piece of his mind before and never want to experience that again; I’m sure Une will feel the same, no matter how unaffected she might pretend herself to be.
“Wufei’s orders. I swear, that guy’s paranoid,” he snorts, and turns away from me. I forgot to look at the color of his eyes; I suddenly want to know if they’re dark purple or light violet.
“Duo, look at me if you have to say something to my face,” I say out loud. He whips his head around, eyes not visible, hidden behind thick, large bangs.
“I’m not attacking you,” Duo answers, sounding slightly baffled. “I was just saying that Wufei’s rather paranoid. Does he think we can’t handle this mission or something?”
“I know that he’s been working on this case for quite a while now and he doesn’t want any screw-ups,” I answer, my fingers on the keyboard again.
“We don’t screw,” Duo laughs, “up, that is.”
I can’t help but grin, and open another few emails. “We better get to work. Wufei wants us out and about at two o’clock after midnight sharp. He’s bringing the communication devices, I’m to bring my laptop, and you, Duo, are to bring C-4 and enough detonation material to take the factory down should that be an option.”
He laughs harder. “Now you’re talking! I thought I was never going to see a good explosion again!”
Because ESUN is paying for our stay in the Brunelleschi hotel, we decide to splurge and call room service to bring us our dinner, consisting of a heavenly prepared fettuccini and maccharoni with seafood. Duo loves seafood, but he never asks for it. He knows how expensive it is, and luxurious food always makes him feel guilty for reasons well-known; I don’t need to take a look at his face to see him mentally calculating how many children he could’ve fed from the delicious food presented on our plates. It’s a habit of his that just won’t die- just like some habits of mine. We end our dinner with a shared bowl of tiramisu, a delicious dessert- though a little too sweet to my taste. I don’t want to know the carbs, joules or anything else that’s been in that mass of cream cheese, mocha and chocolate filling; tomorrow we’ll be having steak and mashed potatoes as usual.
“Man, that was good,” Duo moans, licking the last of the tiramisu off the spoon. We’re both too stuffed to even think of a cappuccino, and I don’t want to go where my mind goes when seeing Duo licking the spoon with his tongue... not yet.
It’ll be another few hours before Wufei picks us up for the mission; we’ve been resting and studying all day on how to approach this particular job. Duo reluctantly agrees with Wufei monitoring us, throwing a small hissy fit when he realises he has to wear a microphone.
“No way in fucking hell I’m going to wear wires! We can do this on our own! We don’t need a babysitter!”
“It’s not about babysitting, Duo,” I remind him. “Wufei needs to decide immediately what to do with the factory if we find suspicious activity. I’ll be downloading the data while you’re rigging the premises, that’s all.”
“What’s the hurry? Benedetti may be stupid, but he’s not fast. That factory isn’t going anywhere now he’s still in the construction phase of his beautiful new sublevel.”
“This is Wufei’s call,” I answer, “we’re here to assist him, remember?”
“Yes I remember,” he all but snarls. “You keep fucking reminding me every other second!”
“Only because you seem having trouble accepting his authority,” I retort, once again unnerved and aggravated at the same time that he’s quick to defend himself, quick to question everything, so much more than he used to.
Duo heaves a sigh, raking with his hand through his bangs. “I have trouble with his distrust, that is all. We’ve been doing missions for over six years, undercover, deep cover, you name it. The ESUN never holds our hand, and we have successfully executed our missions, to the satisfaction of every party involved. I don’t mind working for Wufei, I don’t mind following his orders- but what I do mind, is wearing wires, being monitored- that all reeks of distrust and paranoia to me. Either this is Wufei’s standard work method, and in that case I’ll pass the next time he calls us, or the ESUN has made this a new modus operandi.”
I rise from my chair, his irritation almost tangible. “Duo, I don’t think he distrusts us. Wufei follows his own set of rules, and the ESUN is tolerant towards him.”
“Because he’s been with them from the beginning. Fucking big deal. We have the same qualifications as him; there shouldn’t be any distinction between the five of us.”
“We don’t have the same qualifications. We’re different from each other. I understand what you mean, but our specialities are too diverse and too complicated to be called “the same”. You know that too, Duo. Nobody comes even close in matching your stealth skills, as nobody can even be half as fast as me when I hack a computer. That’s what makes us so special; we have the same base, we have qualifications in common, but above that, we’re diverting from each other, as branches from a tree.”
He snorts. “That’s quite the metaphor, Heero. I never knew you could be this… preachy.”
“I’m not preaching,” I protest, feeling hurt again. When was the first time that his words actually started hurting? This rebuking, this rejection.. I can almost taste it in his every word, when he’s in this mood. A foul mood, and just after we had such a relaxed dinner, and shared our tasty dessert, feeding each other spoons full. I tilt my head a little, trying to look at his eyes.
“Duo, are you all right?”
It has the desired effect- he whips his head around, meeting my gaze directly. “Of course I am, why do you ask?”
Large pools of violet. Violet colored with Prussian blue and lavender and filled with light. It’s my Duo. I hardly realize I was holding my breath, and I shake my head. Now is not the time to get distracted, despite what Une said. I will never, never doubt my Duo until Shinigami himself -or itself- stands in front of me, and even then I will fight him with all that I have. After this mission, my first priority is to get this solved, at all costs.
“T-minus 40 minutes,” I answer, and I want to bite my tongue the next second. It feels like I’ve missed an important opportunity here to ask him what’s really bothering him, and of course the mission prevails in my mind. Overrides the need of my significant other who is suspected of murder without him even knowing it. It’s too preposterous for words and I really, really want to throw my head back and laugh out loud.
“Acknowledged,” Duo simply says, something indefinable flashing in his eyes. His lips curl in a smile -not a warm smile- and he averts his head, turning to the side and walking away, towards the cupboard for his ‘work clothes’. I know I’d better get changed as well, and while my hands are operating on their own, closing down and zipping up the laptop and its paraphernalia, my mind wanders off into another direction, only to be whistled back because of my soldier’s mentality. Get back to the mission. Keep your mind on the mission. Priorities. I know my priorities, I know my parameters. Duo does as well; he’s just more vocal about it. I hear the cupboard open and close, and the unmistakable sounds of rustling clothing. It brings a soft smile to my face; this is familiar, as if nothing floats between us, the calm, composed and silent minutes preparing for the mission. We don’t talk while we prepare; it’s not only a question of equipment and gear, but also of attitude and the state of mind.
I change into black clothing, obviously because that’s more difficult to detect and blends perfectly with most of the backgrounds- pants, belt with holster and gun, shirt, jacket with several tools. I zip up the jacket after checking if everything is still complete and in working order. I trust Duo to check on his own gear; we don’t check each other’s gear. That’s something between the soldier and the gear- he knows his life is dependent on it, so he’ll make sure everything is in perfect order and accounted for.
I straighten myself, stretching for a moment, and automatically look over at Duo. He stands in front of the window, looking outside even though the sun has long since set, and he’s braiding his hair. I didn’t see him unraveling his hair in the first place; he only does that when taking a shower and sometimes, not even every time, when we… are in the bed. I hardly see him braiding his hair. I know he’s a bit sensitive when it comes to it. It has to do with a certain ritual sister Helen taught him when he was still an urchin at the church. The church of Father Maxwell… but I’m not really sure that she also taught him how to weave a black scarf through the large strands of hair. I watch him finishing his hair, the loose ends of the scarf reaching his knees. He always binds his hair up before a mission so it can’t get into the way; this long rope of chestnut is a liability when not secured and I’m about to point that out to him, when he just looks at me.
What is there to see? They’re still violet. They’re still an ocean, a window to his soul, the mirrors to his core… have I ever reached his core? Do I know what really is going on inside him? What goes through his mind? I open my mouth, ready to comment. We communicate often enough. We talk often enough. I know better than to pry, I know better than to push, and it hits me like a brick between the eyes. Maybe I’m the one at fault here. Maybe I should’ve asked more, pried more, and pushed more. There are so many pieces of the puzzle of Duo Maxwell left, and maybe I haven’t done my best enough to collect them all. I doubt that Duo knows everything about me, and perhaps he feels the same despair when it comes to collecting the pieces of the puzzle of Heero Yuy and trying to assemble them, but maybe we got off on the wrong foot from the beginning. I should’ve asked, he should’ve asked, but we agreed silently to maintain the pattern that was taught us as soldiers. We don’t ask questions, in the name of privacy or in the name of respect, and I want nothing but to shove that out of the window. If only I had asked, if only I had asked what was really bothering him, maybe I could’ve prevented this all.
“T minus 5 minutes.”
He nods, knowing that it’s time to leave. We’re not going through the front door, by all accounts; we’ve already checked out where the emergency exits are and how we can get out of the hotel undetected. Duo turns around, his braid dangling behind him, the scarf for some reason immediately striking me. It’s not like him. It’s not like him at all, and I haven’t said a thing about it. I’m the one responsible for allowing Shinigami so much free rein, if he’s already there. If creating him is my responsibility, then ending him will be my responsibility as well. Gritting my teeth, I walk behind Duo, assessing him out of routine, and-
“Duo, why aren’t you carrying your gun?”
He halts, just in front of the door. “I don’t think I’ll have to use it. This is a simple data retrieval job, with maybe some explosives.”
“Duo, we’re ordered to carry guns when executing a mission, that’s a basic rule,” I bite back. “You’re not going on a mission without your weapon!”
“I have my knifes,” he says, turning around. “They’ll be sufficient enough. I’m not carrying a piece when it’s just a simple data retrieval mission.”
“So was Eastbourne,” I remind him dryly. “You carried a gun there, without much of a protest. You’re not invincible, Duo.”
I’m rewarded with a chuckle, and Duo moves away from the door, closing the distance between him and the chest of drawers with a few steps. He opens the top drawer and pulls out his gun, hiding it on his body just like I do; invisible to the untrained eye. I’m not even going to ask why he kept the gun in the top drawer. We’re running late thanks to this small exchange.
Wufei waits for us in a black car; every characteristic that would identify this car carefully dismantled. He opens the door for us, greeting us with a mere nod of his head, not commenting on the few minutes we’re running late. Duo takes the backseat of the car, and his braid is clearly visible. Wufei glances at me, and I look back at him, face devoid of any emotion. I’m not in the mood to deal with questions coming from my fellow Gundam pilot; someone I used to consider a friend. Wufei is still my friend, but something shifted between us the moment he agreed with Une’s theory about my Duo. Without further ado, he passes us the wires and the microphones.
He starts the car, slowly driving away while we hide the microphones on our body. Thank God for infrared and wireless equipment; still, we have to conceal the transmitter and I hear Duo muttering something and squirming on the backseat.
I test the receiver. “One big fat lady..”
“Singing do-re-mi,” Duo finishes and his voice sounds loud and clear.
“Excellent reception,” I say, before putting the equipment back in the bag Wufei has placed in front of me.
“Yeah, how much is ESUN spending on this Benedetti crackpot anyway?” Duo joins in. “Those pictures weren’t your regular Kodak photo shoot.”
“We’ve kept a close eye on Benedetti for quite a while now,” Wufei answers, paying attention to the road. Italy has a lousy signal system; there are hardly any road signs. “Mobile Suit production and manufacturing is only a next step in his network of criminal activities.”
“Let me guess.. started out as drugs dealer?”
“You got it. Switched to weapons quite fast, despite the lower profit margin. That’s when we started to keep an extra eye on him; Benedetti is notorious for his greed, and such a man switching to a less profitable trade was suspicious, especially with the drug market still lively and all. My contact found out that he was expanding rapidly, making the right friends in the right circles, among them a certain Czech allegiance... and he was in the race for the Masterson list.”
Two of our most prolific cases, it seems. The Czech mission was botched because of the unexpected shooting, and the Masterson list has started to live its own life, but carries a bitter aftertaste for me because of Duo’s contradictory statements and the death of that security guard.
“Benedetti wanted to buy the Masterson list?” Duo repeats, shifting his position on the starch backseat. “It’s a good thing we have that thing, then. Almost everybody wants to have it.”
“That’s why we’re so glad it’s in our hands. ESUN could’ve been far more compromised than it was; now we are able to cover the most... eh... incriminating parts up.”
“Huzzah for ESUN,” Duo mutters and falls back on the backseat again. I don’t know what to make of his comment, so I refrain from saying anything at all. We’re almost at the Benedetti factory anyway. Wufei parks the car and turns off the lights and the engine. I hand him the transmitter and he tests it again, receiving our affirmative answers.
He pulls out his own laptop and boots it up. “You have the passwords. Send the files you think are the most important directly by encrypted mail, so I can read and assess them.”
I nod. The laptop looks very sophisticated, with a much more nifty casing than mine; however, judging from the programs on it, it’s not half as functional as mine, and I smirk. My self-written programs are still the best.
“Set? Go, then.”
We leave the car, closing the doors at normal volume. We break out in a jog immediately; the factory is on top of a small hill and we climb it in a fast pace, bodies conditioned and trained. I have my laptop in its special casing on my back while Duo carries the explosives and other detonation material. He was actually gloating when he was fine-tuning the detonators; he has this weakness for explosions. It’s not often we have to deal with them; most of our missions demand a more delicate approach. Gunfire and shootings occur often enough; a ‘good explosion’ as he likes to call it, not often enough to his liking. Duo is concentrated, face set in determination. His eyes dart around, taking in his surroundings, alert to even the smallest change in the landscape. We avoid the light from the street lanterns, jogging in as much darkness as possible. I can hardly hear his shoes, and that’s for the better. We’re invisible; in and out, entering and leaving without leaving a trace.
The gates are closed, and we don’t have any problem in climbing over them. The barbed wire on top of the gate isn’t exactly deterring us; our clothing is comfortable despite its tightness, and it protects us against superficial scratches and injuries. We cross the large distance between the gate and the actual factory where the offices are housed, without exchanging one word. As soon as we reach the outer wall, I stand with my back against it, holding up my entwined fingers to give Duo a boost. He already has the glasscutter in his hand; perfect teamwork, a well-oiled machinery. We don’t need words, hardly gestures even- we know what to do and how to do it. This is why I only want Duo by my side and no one else.
He cuts a round in the glass, disposing of it without a sound, reaching forward and opens the window, all in a matter of seconds, before my hands grow tired or give way to his weight leaning on me. I turn around and jump, grabbing his wrists as he leans out of the window to hoist me up.
“We’re in,” I whisper, receiving a curt “Proceed” in return. Duo shines in front of me with a small flashlight, using the same calm jog as on the hill to lead me to the alarm cabinet. For all he’s worth, Benedetti didn’t invest in good security; there aren’t guards patrolling, climbing the gate is child’s play, and his electronic alarm is something to get really hysteric about… hysteric as in “What was he thinking” hysteric.
I don’t even need my laptop -able to scramble the most perfect state-of-the-art systems- for this thing: I need a pair of tweezers to cut the wires. Duo hands me a pair, smirking; he has seen this on his factory tour with Adalberto, but hadn’t had the opportunity to take a good look. “Piece of cake.”
I cut the wires, using a precious minute to check for a silent alarm. As far as I can tell, there’s none; but even though Duo has said “Piece of cake”, there’s still suspicion in his eyes and voice. This is going too easily. Either the sublevel has maximum security or Benedetti is really too stupid for words and despite his blunt greediness, I don’t hold him that stupid enough to cut back on all security.
There’s not time to philosophize about that now; we make our way over to the offices where records and accountants reports are being kept. Duo will search the paper archives while I set up my laptop; booting and fully operational within the minute. I already turned on the main server and one program on my laptop is also scanning for silent alarms. It finally indicates a bundle of electronic equipment, concentrated in the northeast corner of the factory.
“That’ll be the entrance to the sublevel,” I say to Duo, who makes pictures of the paper files with his extremely slim digital camera.
“I’m almost done here,” he answers. “It isn’t much paperwork, unfortunately. Maybe in the other offices.”
I log in on the main server, identifying myself with a spoofed key and I’m granted access. “I have set this to run in a few seconds, and then I’ll look in the paper archive myself.”
“Don’t you have to keep an eye on the files you’re scanning?”
I grin, smugly. “With the search strings I programmed, it will indicate the most promising and interesting files itself, so I won’t have to stare myself blind on figures and graphics.”
He laughs, a full-blown Duo laugh. “I should’ve known! You’re too smart for this business, Heero.”
Duo closes the paper file he has photographed, putting it exactly back the way he has found it. We don’t leave marks, of course- the gloves we are wearing aren’t even identifiable by their fabric, let alone leaving fingerprints with them.
I open the pocket on my chest to whip out my own digital camera, ready to take over when Duo’s going to leave me.
“You go search for the sublevel and check it out,” I whisper.
“Did you scramble the electronics there?”
“It’s safe,” I answer.
He grins again. “Hey Heero, how long has it been since we had office sex?”
I should be prepared for such a question; after all, he’s Duo, and I already noticed him looking around with that goofy grin of him that promises a good, very satisfying lay later. Everybody has his or her own method of winding down after a mission, remember? Duo has always been a man of extremities, in that way… we have done it on a mission before, but we had to wait for hours on end then, and there wasn’t any chance of getting caught. I can’t help but find the idea appealing, but my set-in-stone mind bristles and protests.
“Too long, now go find the sublevel,” I command, but my voice lacks any conviction. He mock-salutes me, even clicking his heels together, though it misses its effect because of the soft shoes he’s wearing, not military boots.
“Yes sir! I’m gone already!”
I resist the temptation to smack him on his butt when he passes me, and turn my attention to the paper files. Duo was right- there aren’t many records present here and from what I see these are ancient as well; nothing of importance related to the mission. I groan, opening another drawer and seeing more files; non of them really connected to what we’re searching for. Using my own flashlight, I visit the next office. I pry open some of the cabinets, using my special skeleton key set. When I pick up a few files, I see that they’re all about the personnel; this must be the HR office. I’ll skim the personnel list as soon as it’s downloaded.
“Wufei,” I say.
“I’m here. Status.”
“All is well.”
“You’re sending me very interesting things. Any luck on the sublevel?”
“Duo’s already placing the detonations. What do you think?”
“As far as I can see it, the place needs to go down, and soon. Go assist Duo as soon as you’re finished up in the offices.”
“Out.”
I close the cabinets, not bothering to make sure that nothing looks out of the ordinary- this place is going to be blown up anyway, and because Duo is in charge of the explosions, I doubt there will be anything left once this factory goes bye-bye.
“Duo,” I tap at the microphone.
“I’m here.”
“Did you hear it?”
“Yeah,” he answers, not elaborating. I hear a faint click in the background.
“Where are you?” The line crackles.
“Sublevel,” his reply resonates, “I disabled the electronics since you scrambled them anyway. It’s fucking large here.”
“I’m coming to help you in just a bit,” I tell him. “As soon as Wufei gives the definitive ‘go’…”
“Ugh,” Duo suddenly says, followed by a retching noise. “Use a handkerchief or something; it fucking reeks here.”
“Gas?” I ask, immediately on my guard.
“No, no gas. Mobile Suit fuel.”
“Kerosine? Get the fuck away from there!”
“I’m fine, Heero- it’s just a scent, there isn’t something leaking here.”
“I’m finishing up here and then I’ll come over to help you.”
“Sheesh, keep your fucking pants on. For now. Out.”
“Duo!” I bark his name, to no avail. He just doesn’t answer me and I can scream all I want; the line remains dead. “Fuck!”
“What’s going on, Yuy?”
For a moment, I forgot that Wufei is monitoring us and I’m temporarily without an answer; I quickly gather my wits, while I track my steps back to the first office.
“Duo detected a strong scent of Mobile Suit fuel on the sublevel. I want him out of there, but he wants to finish the job first.”
Wufei mumbles something. “Did he report any leakages?”
“No,” I answer. “He only said it smelled like Mobile Suit fuel…”
“It could mean that Benedetti has either progressed far more with his suit manufacturing than we originally assumed, or that someone has been negligent with the supplies.”
“What do you mean?” I round the corner. My laptop is still at work and I quickly sit behind the desk.
“Benedetti has been fined before by the regular steel union and social security organizations for his lack of employee provisions and bad work structure. Maybe some of his employees are as negligent as he is.”
“I don’t care,” I mutter under my breath. Fuel is fuel, and even though there’s no open fire, it worries me. I want Duo out of there, as soon as possible, and the thought that he’s placing the detonation sets just as calmly as ever really irks me at the moment.
“Duo,” I try again, and I’m startled when I’m greeted with his laughter.
“This is rich, this is really rich!”
“Duo, keep your voice down,” I urge him.
“There’s no one in the factory, Heero,” he answers me with that well-known tone of amusement in his voice; he’s in his element.
“You never know if there’s any recording...”
“It’s going to blow, quite literally,” he laughs and I could’ve sworn he’s like some kid in a candy store. “Who fucking cares if there are recording devices or camera equipment in the building. When I’m through with this, they won’t even find the front door back.”
“I know,” I sigh, and hardly notice that I’m shaking my head. The laptop is almost finished with downloading the contents of the main server. I try to remember if I’ve seen a computer in the room where Benedetti received us earlier. Maybe there’s some more information on his hard disk- the data I’ve downloaded is already incriminating enough for the Italian and Wufei didn’t specifically ask for it, but it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.
Finished with the program, I close the laptop, data safely and securely stored, and don’t bother with shutting the main server off. I use my flashlight to find my way. Duo’s silent again after his last comment, and the line is as quiet as ever before. “Duo, I’m on my way to Benedetti’s office. Are you finished?”
“Not yet… this place is fucking huge.”
“What about the scent?”
He coughs for good measure. “It still reeks here, but I’ve seen large drums of oil and kerosene stocked against the south wall.”
“More?”
“Prototypes and Wing Zero,” he answers deadpan.
“What?” Now I’m the one who’s talking too loud.
“He’s a fucking megalomaniac,” Duo retorts, and I hear another click in the background. “Do they really think they can rebuild the Gundams by using titanium?”
“What did you see?” I ask hurriedly, shining with my flashlight into the area around the corner. Benedetti’s office is at the end, if I’m not mistaken.
“They’re making scale models- rebuilding the Gundams on a smaller scale than our original ones. I think they’re trying to reproduce them by using titanium as alloy rather than Gundanium.”
“Logical,” Wufei joins in, his voice echoing on the line. “Gundanium can only be manufactured in outer space, and Benedetti doesn’t have those contacts yet... he’ll probably try to get them rebuilt in titanium first before branching out even further.”
“What a fucker,” Duo replies dryly, and for a split second I’m not sure if he means Wufei or Benedetti. The line dies again.
The office is closed, and I use one of my skeleton keys to open the oak door. When I push it open, a soft light is shining towards me, and my hand flies immediately to my back, lifting the gun from its holster in a minimum of seconds. I click the safety pal off.
I use my elbow to push the door further open, creating as much overview as possible. If Benedetti or someone else is in the office, I’ll… false alarm. The light on his desk is still on, casting the soft glance that I noticed when opening the door. I push the door completely open, checking the office for any presence, but there’s no one but me. It could be left on unintentionally… I open the door of a large cupboard, gun ready to fire, prepared for any threat. A large rack of Armani suits and a few pairs of shoes are the only noticeable content of the cupboard, and I close the door again. No one here, the office is secure. I go to sit behind the desk, unpacking my laptop again and glancing at my watch. It’s three hours past midnight- that means we’ve been here for almost an hour. That’s incredibly long for a mission; but if the sublevel is really as large as Duo claims it to be, then he’s going to need even more time to set all the detonations. I’m torn between going to help him and trying to hack Benedetti’s computer. The charges Duo is placing are enough to take this whole building out, and I won’t get another chance of taking a peek into the computer of the man behind all this. I decide to go for the computer, quickly plugging my laptop in and booting both appliances up.
Chapter 9 | Chapter 11 |