The Perfect Soldier

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction

Laboriously Composed by The Manwell

Special thanks to Stellarbeams for always answering her telephone when I call

instead of pretending to be in the bathroom or something...

Prologue

A.C. 197, February 5

The night was cold and silent, frozen in the crystalline frost that blanketed the exposed earth. At home in the complete, death-like stillness of the winter darkness, the figure slipped across the clearing, deftly avoiding the sweeping spotlights. Lifting a compact pair of infrared binoculars to cobalt eyes, he surveyed the extent of the base’s guards.

He counted only two and carefully noted their positions. He didn’t hesitate even though his instincts were telling him to stop, to turn around, to seek shelter.

There’s no time for that. And there’s nowhere to seek shelter out here, anyway.

So he pressed forward. He scaled the eight-foot chain link fences, easily maneuvering around the sheer, looped razor-wire. The soft thump of his feet hitting the ground on the other side didn’t travel past his ears. It took only a breath and a moment of motion and he was at the unguarded supply door.

He kept low and still, staying clear of the arching, blue-white lights. The seconds ticked by in his head as he waited for the lights to move away. Once the night fell over him once more, he stood and punched in a set of seemingly random numbers into the door lock.

Cobalt eyes narrowed as a yellow light blinked, processing the information.

This is the moment of truth. This is when we find out if that “ghost” is really on our side.

He stared at the lock as the yellow light flickered. He braced himself for the sound of the alarm. The stolen and secreted information continued to be savored by the machine, and he was nearly positive that the faceless, nameless spy had just signed his death certificate.

I know better than to trust unverified information.

But what choice do I have? This threat must be eliminated.

The yellow light shuddered once again.

Here it comes.

And the green light flicked on.

Cobalt eyes blinked as the sound of titanium locks slid out of their slots, releasing the door.

The lights were sweeping toward him again.

He slipped inside the building.

It was darker in the supply hold than it was outside, under the stars, but he negotiated the arrangement of crates as if he’d put them there himself. Within moments, he’d reached the main corridor. He slipped a compact but powerful semi-automatic gun from the holster under his shoulder. Now he hesitated in the doorway, listening for sounds to echo down the dimly lit halls.

This is too easy.

He shook the thought away, but it persisted.

They’ve cleared a path for you.

Cobalt eyes narrowed. Clear path or no, he had accepted this mission, and he was going to finish it. Nothing was going to stop him, no trap, no confinement, no weapon.

That was a fact.

He shrugged out into the hallway and turned left, toward the control room and the main computer’s database. The soft soles of his hiking boots made hardly a whisper of sound against the metal floors. Uniform, slate-gray doors rolled past him as he tread down the hall. The monotony of the base’s layout helped him focus his thoughts on the room to the right, just ahead.

The minutes counted off inside his head in silence. He had precious little time to complete the first objective. He paused at the intersection of the halls.

He listened.

He leaned around the corner.

No one stood between him and the control room door.

Too easy. Too easy.

That’s irrelevant.

He slipped into the hall and placed a hand on the door. It swung open without protest. He brought his firearm up and aimed inside of the room, prepared to fire at the first sign of the enemy.

But the control room was deserted.

Get out. Get out now. This is too easy!

No, I will finish this mission.

Softly, he closed the door behind him and approached the computer. A few moments at the terminal were all that he needed to copy the data he required.

Seven minutes had passed since he’d crossed the threshold into the cargo hold.

He slipped the disk into his pocket and then proceeded to quickly erase all evidence of his passing. The screen was set back to “rest” mode. The chair righted. He turned back to the door and lifted his gun.

They’re waiting for you to come out.

His eyes narrowed.

His gloved hand went to the door.

The metal portal swung open and he quickly poised himself for a fight.

Nothing came out at him from the dim halls.

Everything was quiet, serene...

Abandoned!

He shook the thought aside and focused on his second—his last—objective.

He disappeared around the bend in the corridor.

Heero Yuy pounded on the massive door to the elaborate Darlian estate. The cobalt-eyed pilot’s every muscle threatened to tremble with impatience as he waited for the portal to open. A low growl escaped a pale throat as an upraised fist pounded on the door yet again. Cobalt eyes glanced at a black wrist-watch. It was nearly midnight.

Dinner finished only two hours ago... what in the hell are they doing in there?

The door swung open.

An icy stare met the mellow look on Pargan’s face. “Ah, Mr. Yuy, please come in.”

Heero marched into the foyer, sweeping past Pargan without a second glance.

“May I take your coat, sir?”

“I won’t be staying,” the jean-clad youth said. “Where are the other guests?”

Pargan nodded to the right, “In the kitchen, sir. Having a poker game, I believe.”

“Hn.”

Yuy’s long legs ate up the distance that stretched from the foyer to the kitchen door. With an outstretched hand, the swinging door was thrown open, startling the table’s occupants. The cobalt gaze took in the sight of the interrupted poker game with indifference.

“Hey, Heero! That was a fast one, buddy. Com’on and have a seat. We need a fifth person.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Heero?” Quatre asked, his bleary, sleepy eyes blinking as he bullied himself into awareness. He smothered a yawn by fanning his cards over his mouth. “Is everything all right?”

“No.” Heero’s gaze landed on Wufei. “It’s not finished.”

Duo gaped. “Heero Yuy didn’t complete a mission?”

Heero ignored him. “We have to go back.”

Wufei nodded slowly. “Then we go now, when they won’t expect us.”

With a great sigh, Duo eyed the sizable pile of chips with longing. “Well, this has really killed the mood, you know that, Heero?”

“Ch’,” the Japanese pilot said, and then turned on the heels of black hiking boots and disappeared through the door.

“Yup, my sentiments exactly,” Duo replied, throwing his cards down.

Wufei gave him a careful look. “It is your turn,” he reminded him. “You could always call it.”

“I could,” Duo said, thinking of the disgusting set of cards he’d been dealt, “but I won’t. Wouldn’t want to embarrass anybody.”

The look on Wufei’s face clearly said that he didn’t believe a word of it. Duo just grinned and shrugged into his jacket. Trowa had already abandoned his cards and was zipping up his coat. Quatre yawned but followed suit.

One after the other, they filed through the kitchen door, leaving Wufei to button his coat in silence. The pair of black eyes studied Maxwell’s abandoned cards.

Hm... Who would’ve been embarrassed, Maxwell?

He had a strong suspicion that it would have been none other than Duo Maxwell, himself. The temptation to peek at the other boy’s cards was great, but Wufei had more honor and propriety than that. With a sniff, he turned toward the door and joined the others in the foyer.

The base was quiet in its confidence that another attack would not be forthcoming on the same night. Needless to say, they had vastly underestimated the endurance of Heero Yuy.

The dark-haired pilot jogged effortlessly down the twisting halls, stopping every twenty paces or so to press a small, magnetic explosive to the crease in a door frame. Over shallow breathing, well trained ears listened for foreign sounds. Nothing echoed from within the depths of the corridors.

Way too easy.

Nonetheless, Yuy pushed forward, relentless in the face of the mission.

The doors swept past, and a silent tally was kept in the young man’s head.

Almost there.

Cobalt eyes focused on a nearby door. Long legs lengthened their strides. Before Heero had skidded to a halt in front of the door, the code had been punched into the control panel. The metal door slid open with a whoosh of friction.

The shaggy-haired pilot turned toward the left. Instinct told the mind behind those cool, blue eyes that the room was not vacant, and that the occupant was conscious. With a swift twist, a booted foot lashed out and caught something firm, but slightly resilient. The sound of a body striking the metal floor echoed softly back to Yuy.

Not wasting a moment, Heero pulled a black, thermal blanket from inside his dark shirt. Carefully, gloved hands wrapped the limp figure up and lifted it over one narrow shoulder.

The minutes continued to tick away in side of the brunette’s head. With a quick glance and a gun preceding, the lithe form slipped back into the hall. A few moments of quick sprinting lead the youth back to the cargo hold. Several bodies of OZ soldiers littered the shadowed floor, but Heero knew exactly where to step and where not to step. He slipped through the outer door without incident and jumped into the back of the truck Wufei was driving. The Chinese pilot gunned the engine, glancing in the rearview mirror at the burden Heero had hauled out of the base.

As the truck roared through the base gates, smashing them to pieces, Heero spoke into the wide-band communicator. “This is one and five, we are out of range, over.”

A moment of static crackled back. “Roger that,” came Trowa’s mellow voice.

A moment later, the base erupted in a mountain of flames behind them.

Yuy’s thumb flicked the speaker button again. “One reporting mission completed. Regroup at base. Over.”

Again, Trowa’s voice filtered through the frequency. “Roger. Over and out.”

Heero replaced the communicator in its holder and turned to the limp burden. With careful fingers, Yuy checked the unconscious form for signs of severe trauma. When a steady pulse was detected, the hands withdrew and wrapped the shivering figure in the blanket once again.

Cobalt eyes looked up in time to see Wufei’s questioning gaze.

“He’ll be useful to us” was the only explanation that the obsidian-eyed pilot got. However, he was satisfied with that reply and turned back to the road, intending to make it back to Relena’s mansion in Salzburg before dawn.

Trowa, Quatre, and Duo had been waiting for a half an hour in Heero’s room when the other two pilots arrived. They glanced up as Wufei entered the room and they stared as Heero followed close behind, cradling someone in slim, but muscular arms.

“Heero?” Quatre questioned. As pilots, they’d never taken hostages before and he had more than one misgiving about starting now.

“Whatcha got there?” Duo inquired, trying to sneak a peek at the mysterious figure.

Heero easily avoided Duo’s prying and laid the creature down on the bed. “I’ll get some ointment for him,” the youth said, and disappeared into the hall.

For a moment, the four comrades simply looked at each other. Then, frowning, Wufei reached across the bed and pulled the blankets away from the prisoner’s head. His hands paused as a mass of short, dark brown hair was revealed. Behind him, he heard each of the Gundam pilots pause as they became aware of the sight before them.

No... It can’t be.

Wufei turned the unconscious boy over, and stared at the sleeping face of Heero Yuy. A dark bruise was slowing coloring over the left half of the pilot’s face. The darkest portion was over his temple.

Wufei stood up and turned toward the door. Without a word to the others, he ran toward it and out into the hall. He listened for a sound, any sound, to indicate which direction the other Heero had taken. He chose the stairs that descended into the foyer. Behind him, he heard Duo rushing to the west, and Trowa hurrying toward the large widows that concluded the east end of the guest corridor.

They searched for over an hour, but no one found the mysterious figure that had carried Heero Yuy from the rebel base and delivered him to Relena’s residence. Not even a footprint marred the sparkling frost.

The youth had vanished.

~End of Prologue~