It was close to midnight at the Taj Palace Hotel. Sitting behind his laptop, a damp towel around his loins, Heero dried his hair with another towel, rubbing the unruly strands vicariously. After dinner, Duo had gone straight to bed, tired as he was. Heero could feel the strain of jet lag on his own body, and he yawned. He checked up on the refueling status of the Cessna and was pleased to discover that Indian efficiency had taken care of the plane already; they could leave tomorrow exactly according their timetable. Heero checked if there were any online reports about the thug's body in Venice. No message or news article showed up about him, either the polizia didn't care or the Fiamma Nera took care of their dead without any officials involved. A quick Google search on the cult resulted in no hits at all; whatever they did, it wasn't hanging out on the Internet. Heero didn't feel like digging around right now and decided to quit.
He logged off and switched off the light above the desk. Yawning, he walked to the king size bed in the middle of the hotel room, with Duo fast asleep in it. He had pushed off all the blankets and sheets despite the perfect air conditioning and Heero gathered the blankets for himself, nuzzling up to Duo. He murmured in his sleep, searching out his lover's warmth. Heero moved his armed around him and Duo, despite being asleep, shifted his arm around him as well. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, Heero wasn't wondering about the words the thug had said about Noventa and the sword. He could still hear the man's heavy accent, muted by his own damaged ears, but he could read the message off of his lips perfectly. … And there will be many more of my friends, wanting to kill you! The cult was more widespread and fanatic than they had assumed. The attack on the Manor, the confrontation at Bartoli's palazzo… somehow Heero had the feeling they would see and hear more of the cult, and he wasn't really happy about it. Gently stroking Duo's hair, he lowered his face so his lips could touch his ear, nipping at the lobe. Duo made an 'mmmn' sound and hugged himself closer to Heero.
"I love you," he whispered. There was no answer from Duo, but the corners of his lips turned up in a soft smile. Heero switched off the light on his nightstand, enveloping the room in darkness. The traffic noises outside didn't hinder him at all, and he fell quickly asleep.
Duo was still munching on a piece of naan as the shuttle bus drove them back to the airport. He was well-rested and looking forward to fly again; the second part of their trip wouldn't take more than three, four hours tops. Before leaving the hotel, he had quickly used Heero's laptop to confirm their arrival time at Chengdu to Wufei; he'd be waiting for them at the airport. Duo had changed into the costume Hilde had made for him and he gathered a lot of attention with his white outfit. Heero was glad they were so early at the airport; he was getting mad with jealousy noticing all the people staring at his Duo. Swallowing the last piece of his flatbread, Duo climbed on board the Cessna Citation X, all refueled and ready for take off. It didn't take long for the control tower to give the permission to take off, and the Cessna was up in the air, resuming its course.
"I love it when things go smoothly like this," Duo said while adjusting some of the instruments. "In a few hours, we'll meet up with Wufei again. I can't wait to see him!"
"I thought you didn't get along with him," Heero said, monitoring some of the other instruments and keeping track of their progress on the clipboard. "Well, it's not like I get along with him either."
"Ah, what's happened, has happened," Duo made a dismissive gesture, "and I guess he has no hard feelings either, otherwise he wouldn't have agreed to meet us! We'll have some nice tea together, like best friends."
Heero chuckled behind his clipboard. "I love your optimism."
"I love yours too!" Duo looked over his shoulder. "What are you doing with that clipboard all the time? Are you checking up on my performance?"
"I like to check up on a certain other performance of yours," Heero said and turned the clipboard around. "You know how I like to keep up with graphs and figures."
"I'll say it again and again: neeeee~eerd," Duo sang out loud when he was suddenly interrupted by a loud beep. "Hey, what the…"
"The TCAS is blinking," Heero blinked himself. The Traffic Collision Avoiding System was warning them that a plane was near, on a collision course with the Cessna.
Duo looked out the windows, sitting almost backwards in his chair. "I don't see a fucking plane! What's going on?"
Unbuckling himself, Heero got out of his chair.
"What the hell are you doing? Get into touch with air traffic control!" Duo yelled at him.
"You contact them," Heero hollered back as he went out of the cockpit into the bulk of the plane, checking the windows left and right. He couldn't hear Duo's voice, only the sound of the thrumming engines. He stared out the window, wishing they were flying a military plane so he could see the incoming plane on radar. What was going on? Who was following them in the air? He leaned closer to the window, noticing a big, black spot on his left side and…
"Incoming missile!"
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Duo immediately swerved the Cessna, but it was too late. The missile pierced through the aluminium alloy and ripped it apart. Due to the steep angle it was coming in, the missile shot through the other side of the plane, failing to explode. Heero was standing so close to the entry of the missile that the heat and smoke almost scorched his face. Throwing himself on one of the seats, he could feel the weapon pass over him, exiting on the other side, immediately followed by the decompression.
"Heero! Heero! Where the fuck are you!"
"Stay in your seat! Stay in your seat, goddamnit!" Heero cursed his bad hearing, still not up to par, and Duo's voice was high-pitched in his panic. He could see the emergency lights on the control panel flicker, but couldn't hear the accompanying alerts. With uncanny strength, Heero worked himself upright, fighting against the decompression and the icy wind blowing through the plane. Was it a heat-seeking missile? Would it return? He didn't have much time. Step by step, Heero forced himself to walk, making his way over to the small pantry. The first aid kit, extra pillows and blankets and parachutes were stashed in a compartment next to it. Cursing wildly as the plane swerved, he knew that Duo was doing his best as to avoid getting hit again. From the corner of his eyes, Heero noticed a metallic, dark grey airplane, no obvious markers or numbers visible, and he gasped. A Lockheed Martin, an advanced prototype of a Joint Strike Fighter jet - who in the world could afford and fly such a plane? He had no time to think, he had to act quickly. He had noticed something else to boot, something that almost literally froze his heart. High mountain peaks, covered with eternal snow, like jagged teeth with a deceptively soft white cover - the first signs of the world's highest mountain range: the Himalayas. There was no way Duo could land the plane here, and they were descending rapidly, still swerving to escape their enemy. Where had the fighter yet gone? Heero opened the compartment with the parachutes and pulled two out, clutching them to his chest. Keeping one hand free, he fought his way back to the cockpit, where Duo was constantly looking over his shoulder to keep an eye on him. He had calmed down, the panic dissolving into an unmistakable adrenaline rush, and he kept the plane as steady as he could. Any lesser pilot would've already crashed, but not Duo - his hands were firm around the controls. Now that Heero was close to him again, he could hear the alerts shrieking; the entire control panel was lit with red lights.
"Put this on." Heero handed him a parachute and helped him to strap it around his body. "Can you still control the plane?"
"Barely," Duo gritted his teeth, not letting go of the controls and using his right arm first, then his left arm to hoist the parachute around his shoulders. Heero leaned into him to close the belts and buckles around his chest. "I can't land around here, if we can just make it to…"
His sentence was curt short by another missile ripping the Cessna in two, blowing away the Rolls Royce engines with astounding ease, the explosion maiming the plane, the titanium and aluminum alloys shredding like paper. Both Duo and Heero were smacked forward, Heero raising his arms to protect himself, but Duo hit his head on the control panel, cutting his skin. Blood immediately flowed over his nose, dripping beside his nostrils.
"Duo!" Heero couldn't believe his own eyes - that the other half of the plane was missing, that they were spinning wildly out of control and Duo's face was a bloody mess.
"No time!" He was out of his chair, his braid flapping wildly in the freezing, biting wind. The Cessna took a nosedive, and Duo almost lost his footing, the cockpit shaking. Heero backed him up, pulling at his clothes to get him back up on his feet again. "We have to jump!"
"Our equipment!" Heero yelled.
"No time!" Duo repeated. "Most of it is already gone anyway!" His eyes locked with Heero's. It was going to be a very tough jump, and Duo was in the advantage, already wearing his special designed costume. Heero hadn't dressed too warmly; he had expected to exit at the airport, not in mid-air. There was no time indeed, but Heero hesitated for a few precious seconds; not that he feared the jump, but to pry his laptop from its restraints where he had put it. The loss of their equipment was bad enough, the loss of his laptop would be devastating.
"Heero!" Duo's voice reached him with an undertone of annoyance. In the middle of a freefall, their plane blasted in half and with the fighter jet still hovering around, he couldn't believe that Heero was still making time to save his laptop. He grabbed him at the elbow, pulling him with him. "Let's go! Come on!"
The chilly wind hit them hard, like a punch to the stomach; Heero felt the cold in his bones, chilling him to his very core. Duo's injury froze solid, the blood caking to his face with a thin film of ice. Holding each other at the elbows, Duo and Heero were at the gap, hair tousled by the scolding wind.
"Wait," Heero said and moved his hands up to Duo's shoulders, pulling him closer for a quick but intense kiss.
"We're below thirteen thousand feet," Duo said after the kiss, the blood disfiguring his face. "God, Heero…"
"We're going to make it," Heero said, briefly touching Duo's cheek. "We're going to make it."
Duo grabbed Heero's wrist with astounding strength, but when they jumped out of the plane, the blasting wind immediately separated them. Duo was hardly visible with his white clothing against the snow-covered mountain peaks, and Heero's eyes started to water immediately from the biting cold. It felt like his entire face was attacked by fine needles, and he gasped for air. The best way to survive was to land on a frozen lake. There was no way to know what was hidden under all that snow, and if one of them broke a leg… Heero was disorientated, but concentrated on landing first. Duo had a compass, and even without it they had enough knowledge to determine their direction. At the right altitude, he deployed his parachute and Heero heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the canopy unfold itself. It caught the wind and gave a fierce tug, his body tensing up. Jumping out of an airplane wasn't one of his favorite pastimes, and certainly not when under fire. The strange thing was that the fighter jet seemed to have disappeared - had the pilot not seen them jump? The moment had just crossed his mind when an explosion resonated through the mountains, echoing eerily. Snapping his head in the direction of the dark smoke clouds, Heero could see silver and metallic grey debris against the pristine white snow, the last remnants of the Cessna. Shivering from the cold, Heero tried to cover his hands with his sleeves, pressing the bag with his laptop against his body. He searched the sky for Duo, unable to find him, his heart turning heavy. He refused to believe that Duo wouldn't make it - he just couldn't see him, the wind and bright sun making his eyes water. Duo was all right. He'd better be more concerned about himself, now that the cold was hitting him hard and the ground was approaching fast.
Concentrating and preparing himself for the impact, Heero landed next to a path, his feet scraping the rocky soil and shredding his clothes as he rolled, snow sticking to his body. He rolled over the ground to a full stop, breathing heavily. He was bleeding from several cuts and scrapes, but it was nothing compared to the cold. Besides, Heero was glad and relieved that he had landed without breaking anything. The path looked fairly traveled, but judging from all the animal prints, it was probably used by herders, semi-nomads moving from place to place, taking care of their animals. That meant they were probably in Tibet already, Heero thought. He gathered the canopy and wrapped it around himself, the cloth not providing enough protection against the cold, but it was better than nothing. Now he had to find Duo… and a wide smile spread on his face when he saw red smoke, not too far from him, behind a hill. He broke out in a jog, his body feeling stiff and strained, and slowly his blood circulation started running again, along with the adrenalin. Scaling the hill, Heero saw Duo standing, neatly folding his canopy next to the red smoke bomb.
"Duo!"
He looked up, mirroring Heero's smile. "Thank God! I couldn't see you anymore! Are you all right?"
"Could be better." Heero didn't lie to him. Duo noticed the cuts and scrapes, whereas his own costume only suffered some stains.
"You're injured," he said.
"It's nothing."
"Goddamnit Heero, you risk your life for that stupid laptop of yours, God forbid that something might happen to it…"
"It's a vital piece of equipment," Heero said. "And we're going to need it, now we've lost everything else."
"I know." Duo sighed. He was shaking, not from fear of anxiety but of the adrenaline still pumping through his system. He looked over at Heero. "Perhaps you should wear my parachute as well," he said, voice serious. "You're not dressed for the…occasion."
"What's our position?"
"I have to turn my GPS on, one moment. I hope we can find a monastery close by, so we can warm up." Duo checked his watch and clacked with his tongue. "Fuck. It's broken."
"Do you remember our position before the plane was shot?"
"I'm fairly sure we're on the Tibetan side of the Himalayas. It's of no use to trek through the mountains to Chengdu. We have to find a monastery and get our bearings."
Heero nodded in agreement, shivering. The three basic survival rules - Water, Food, Shelter - were into effect now, and without their equipment and supplies, they were vulnerable. They didn't even have any weapons - all was destroyed when the missiles hit the Citation.
"Do you have any idea how far it is?" he asked.
"There are monasteries littered all over the place," Duo answered confidently.
"A lot have been destroyed during the Chinese occupation, Duo. What if…"
"We can at least find some shelter." Duo refused to see the hopelessness of their situation. "Come on Heero, we better get moving."
Heero could hear the slight strain in Duo's voice, but he appreciated his lover's optimism. He was right about one thing, though - it was of no use to linger around, where cold and frostbite was catching up to them. He started to walk, the gravely path hard to tread; nature was working against them as well. It was overwhelming, the vast greatness of the mountains evoked awe and admiration, the snow beautiful white and deadly cold, the roughness of the environment, the frail air… Heero could see the beauty of it all, and Duo's eyes were taking in every millimeter of the landscape. It was joy and horror at the same time, and he wrestled one of his hands free from his make-shift parachute garment, to grab Duo's hand. He was wearing gloves, and Heero rubbed his cold skin against the fabric. Silently, they kept walking.
Hours went by. Heero's shivering became more violent, and Duo, despite his optimism, was frowning in despair, looking for any place to shelter. He was torn between taking refuge in a mountain cave, but without supplies they wouldn't last long, and driving them both to exhaustion while trying to reach a monastery, a border, anything that held a sign of human life… hearing the flow of water nearby, Duo tried to orientate himself. This had to be the Yarlung Tsangpo or the Yarlung River, commonly known as the Tsangpo; Duo's heart faltered. In the best case scenario possible, they were still at 65 kilometers southwest of Lhasa. In the worst case scenario, they were at the point where the Tsangpo entered India and was called the Brahmaputra, meaning they were farther of any border they could ever imagine.
Squeezing Heero's hand, Duo suppressed his growing worries. 65 kilometers was a lot, even for him. How would they ever make it out of here? He had to find a way to send a distress signal; he had a few flares left, and perhaps Heero's laptop would be able to power up… but then what? It wasn't like there was any Internet out here in the mountains, and even though Heero's laptop was powerful, could it have a program to reach people, no matter in what condition? And more important…would rescue come in time?
"Heero," he said, ignoring his own light-headedness, "can we use your laptop to get out of here?"
"I'm not sure," Heero answered. "I think it was damaged during the attack on the plane, and I don't see any electricity lines…"
"What about the battery?"
"I charged it myself, it should be running…"
"Why don't we find a place to sit down and get the laptop going."
"We'd better keep moving," Heero said, his voice a little sluggish. He pressed the laptop case harder against his chest in a desperate search for warmth. "If we slow down…"
"I can make a fire," Duo suggested and tapped on his chest. "I have my flint with me. We have to get to lower ground, where we can find firs. I'll burn my own hair if I need to."
Heero didn't respond, his brain having trouble to process Duo's words. He recognized the signs of hypothermia, and knew that Duo knew. If he had a mirror with him, he could see his lips coloring blue and the sickly paleness of his complexion, and already his usual sharp, rational mind was affected by the altitude and the frail air. He couldn't get enough oxygen, his lungs were struggling, and his thoughts were slowing down. Heero didn't like to lose control and frantically searched for a solution. Perhaps sitting down to send at least a signal wasn't a bad idea after all.
"Here." The small cave was hard to spot in the shadows of a looming mountain, but Duo had spotted it anyway. He went in first to make sure there were no unwelcome visitors, and after a thorough check he gave the 'safe' signal to Heero. He stumbled inside, the canopy sliding off of his shoulders. "Sit down, Heero," Duo said and he took him by the elbow. Fortunately, the cave was out of the harsh wind, but the temperature inside was just as chilly as outside. "I'm going to take a look around to see if I can find something, all right? You boot up the laptop and see if you can get a signal and send a message for help."
"All right, all right," Heero batted at him. "Damn headache," he muttered. Duo watched for a few minutes more as Heero slowly opened the laptop case, struggling to get the equipment out. He finally left after Heero was busy clicking the keys; Duo sucked in a cold gust of breath as soon as he was outside, and broke out in a jog to recon the surroundings.
It didn't take him longer than fifteen minutes to return. He had found a path down to the river, but it was steep and rough. Following the river downstream was their biggest chance at meeting people, native Tibetans, to help them. They weren't going to make it if they had to hike all the way to Lhasa. Duo shivered as he entered the cave. He was starting to feel the cold through the special fabric of his costume, and he could only imagine how it was affecting Heero.
"How are you doing, love?"
Heero was sitting right where he left him, the laptop on his lap, his fingers resting on the keyboard.
"Heero?"
"Hn," was all Duo got in return. He went to Heero to drape the parachutes around him in a feeble attempt to keep him warm.
"What's the matter?"
"I don't know the password," Heero said as he stared at the laptop screen. Duo tousled his hair a little, like usual. He tried to ignore his own pounding headache as much as possible.
"Heero, it's the altitude sickness. You're hypothermic. We need you to get to a warm place. We better follow the path I found to the river. There's bound to be trees there."
He didn't move. Duo could see the frustration on Heero's face, now that one of his most common bits of knowledge was inaccessible. His mind wasn't cooperating; it couldn't make the right connections between actions and thought anymore. The cold was affecting him faster than Duo had estimated. Gently, Duo picked up Heero's hand and started stroking the pale, cold skin.
"Think, love," he said. He had only used the laptop when it had already booted, so he didn't know the password himself. "Does it have something to do with me?"
"What?" Heero asked.
"The password, dear."
"I know the damn password!" Heero snarled, and the next second blood started to drip from his nose.
"God, Heero!" Duo grabbed a slip of the canopy and pressed it against Heero's nose, tilting his head back. The cloth colored a rusty red quickly. "Hold on, love, please… Let's get out of here. We're going down the river and find help there. Come on, get up, Heero. Get up!"
He pulled the laptop away from Heero and put it back into its case, flinging it over his shoulder.
"Get up, Heero, we're leaving…"
Heero slipped away from him, literally, blood dripping past his lips and trailing down his chin. His knees hit the hard, rocky ground and the darkness of the cave enveloped him in a chilly embrace, it was so cold, so cold, that he was almost happy that he lost consciousness.
Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 |