By: Spooks
~ ~ ~ ~
Silence filled the room.
"It was your apartment building? Oh my God," Relena whispered, her voice fluctuating with shock.
"I doubt that it was a random occurrence," Wufei muttered darkly, leafing through the file papers.
"Very doubtful," Heero agreed, rubbing his forehead. He looked over at Duo. "Do you think we'll be safe here?"
"I don't know," the American replied, squeezing Heero's hand. "We don't know for sure that this has anything to do with that stalker. It might be a coincidence."
"Perhaps," Heero shrugged, his face tense.
"From the way the explosives were set, it looks as though the terrorist in question had the building rigged in advance, at least by a day, maybe two. This was no simple briefcase or truck bomb, explosives were set strategically in the elevator shafts, basement, and service areas. No peripheral buildings were damaged. This was a calculated strike," Wufei stated, pointing out things in the charts as the other men and Relena huddled around the card table.
"If that were so...then the explosives must have been set while we were still there...but the detonation was after we had arrived here," Duo thought out loud, turning away from the group. He picked up a spare ping pong ball and tossed it from hand to hand as he paced.
"Was the explosion set on a timer or was it detonated by remote?" Relena asked. "Because if it was remote, and that package was in the mailbox today, wouldn't that mean that it's just a coincidence, that the stalker couldn't have possibly blown up that building?"
"There might be more than one stalker, perhaps a team," Quatre suddenly spoke up. "That is, if only if the explosion and the packages are related. Rest assured, though, if the stalker set the explosives, then he'll find some way of letting us know."
"Probably," Heero agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "There is no way to tell at this point in the investigation how the explosion was triggered."
"Let's not jump to conclusions, here, this could be nothing more than coincidence," Trowa said. "If the events are not related, then this stalker effectively saved your lives."
Duo halted his pacing, squeezing the little ping-pong ball in his good hand. "I didn't think about it like that," He paused to take a deep breath. "I don't like the possibility of there being more than one of those weirdoes out there. One psychopath sending us threatening packages is enough."
"True," Heero replied, walking over to the American and prying the now squished ball from the other man's grip.
"I'll go make sure a surveillance camera is put on the mailbox immediately," Quatre said, squaring his shoulders. "I will not have my friends threatened in my home. I will make sure that all precautions are taken to insure your safety while you're staying here."
"Thanks," Duo responded gratefully.
"We appreciate your concern," Heero added almost immediately, all but finishing Duo's sentence.
Quatre nodded curtly, his mind already occupied with strategic security plans and surveillance positions for the perimeter of his estate. "I'll probably ask for some of your advice after it's all set up, but for now I will take care of the necessary preparations."
That said, the blond man walked out the room, his stride clipped and precise. Trowa just looked at the others and shrugged. "I should make sure he doesn't go overboard. I'm sure he's about to call the Manguanacs and invite them to the party a week early, but someone will have to be the voice of reason."
"Go on, Trowa. We don't want him to go crazy and buy perimeter gun turrets or anything," Duo replied, making shooing motions with his hands. He grinned faintly. "Although gun towers would be kinda cool."
"High powered weaponry is always good," Heero added seriously, a twinkle of mirth in his deep eyes.
"And towers *do* provide superior vantage points for attack, not to mention the impact weaponry can have from such angles," Wufei nodded sagely, the tiny origins of a smirk growing on his thoughtful face.
"And we'd get to test them out..." Duo added, now looking way too serious.
All four former soldiers smiled in unison, eyes suddenly shining.
"You know, I'm not going to say a word about the interesting psychological parallels that can be drawn about the fixation men have with big guns," Relena muttered. She blinked innocently when said men just turned and looked at her incredulously.
"What?"
~ ~ ~ ~
Two hours later the security cameras and motion detectors were installed around the perimeter of the estate. A few extra devices were placed around the mailbox, just in case some one besides the mail carrier dropped anything in the box. Quatre added more personnel to keep an eye on any unexpected visitors, salesmen, or solicitors. With the extra security equipment, precautions, and staff in place, and after the other former soldiers had looked over the preparations, everyone was satisfied that no one could get onto the compound without escaping detection. The addition of the Manguanacs arriving and staying in the west wing also added to the sense of protection.
Almost a week passed with no disturbances.
The more time passed quietly after the bombing, the more convinced Duo and Heero were that the whole thing was just a coincidence. And since the stalker seemed to be keeping his distance, they weren't nearly as actively worried as before. They felt safe in the now fortified Winner compound, and with the company of their friends they were letting the intense anxiousness over the original envelope and little "gifts" fade. Duo's hand was healing nicely, and nothing frightening had happened, so they were lulled into a false sense of security. After all, if the stalker meant business, wouldn't he have done something else by now?
The time spent in the secured estate with no overt threat quickly wore thin on everyone's nerves. In particular it led the former pilots of Wing and Deathscythe to the land of extreme-bouncing-off-the-walls-let-us-outside-cabin-fever-boredom.
It meant sex in strange places. It meant a regressed-by-monotony Duo trying to see how many little packs of sugar he could eat just for the hell of it. It meant Heero chasing the buzzed man around with various sets of handcuffs, much to the chagrin to Wufei and Relena, especially when Duo ran into their room. It meant Heero playing with gunpowder. It meant *hell* for the household.
Thus, Quatre planned a night out, or rather, he surrendered to the idea. He too wanted to get out of the mansion, and it seemed that everyone else did too, but no one was going to admit it out loud. Therefore they collectively decided to "cut Duo and Heero some slack" and leave their bubble of security.
That's how the group of six, dressed in what could be considered "normal" clothing (the best disguise they could think of), found themselves sitting in a huge corner table at a pizza place in the nearby city. They had already seen a sci-fi flick at the local theater, and now the group was enjoying their food and almost acting like ordinary citizens. Quatre, for one, was once again glad that he had chosen to live near such a normal, medium sized town. Balanced between being a gossipy small community and an anonymous big city, the burg was friendly but faceless. One could go into town and see the same people everyday, but see hundreds more that they would never clap eyes on ever again.
And right at the moment when all pain was forgotten and consciousness was focused on what was ahead and what was now, the threat resurfaced.
"Um, hi?" Their waitress interrupted the relaxed conversation. She ducked her head apologetically and tucked a strand of dark red hair behind her ear before looking up again.
"Yeah?" Duo asked between mouthfuls of pizza.
"Uh, some person left this on the counter, I think it's meant for you," the girl replied, holding out a small white envelope.
Dark eyes narrowing warily, Wufei reached forward and took the envelope from the waitress's hand. "Did you happen to see this person?"
"No, it was just sitting there on the counter when I walked by. So I picked it up, and well, it's probably for you guys," she answered. "While I'm here, is there anything I can gettcha?"
"Um, no thanks," Quatre muttered, leaning over Trowa to look more closely at the envelope. Wufei had cleared a space on the crowded table for it. The black capital letters on the pristine white contrasted sharply, and it looked as though the words had been almost ripped into the heavy paper.
"Okay, I'll bring the bill," the redhead replied, scurrying away. She was getting funky vibes from that group. The girl almost wished she hadn't delivered that weird envelope, her tip might suffer the consequences.
"What's does it say?" Relena asked, trying to see.
"Pilots and Queen," Heero answered, scowling. And here they had been under the illusion that they hadn't been recognized. Of course, no one had really bothered them, so maybe not too many people knew who they were. The former soldier had never planned to live through the wars, never mind become a pseudo celebrity for his part in the conflicts.
"Wonderful," Duo muttered. "Who gets the honor of opening it?"
"I will," Trowa sighed, swiftly picking up the small pocket of paper. He pulled out a lock blade knife, opened it with a flip of his wrist, and sliced the edge of the sealed flap open. Rather than stick his hand into the now eviscerated envelope, he pried the opening wider with the point of his knife. Everyone leaned forward in anticipation.
"It's clean," Wufei confirmed.
Trowa, deciding not to take any chances, shook the open end over the table. A small rectangle of paper flopped out of the envelope, landing with a soft plop. A flip of the knife under the edge of the paper, and a partially developed polaroid was revealed. About half of the chemicals had already settled, a vague image forming as the process completed only thirty seconds later.
It was a picture of them, sitting at the table they were currently occupying and eating pizza that was still taking up the majority of the tabletop's space. The perspective of the image was straight on, proving that the photographer had been in the same room as them, in the corner beside the door, and only a bare minute ago.
The stalker had *just* *been* *there*.
The rest of the pizza remained uneaten, the bill was quickly paid, a big tip was left, and the group was gone in less than five minutes. Their evening was ruined.
~ ~ ~ ~
The next morning the mail brought another envelope, this one containing a newspaper clipping about the bombing of Duo and Heero's old apartment building. The postmark was local, and of course, there was no return address. Also in the package was a pile of ashes, and the implied connection that the embers were from the building was impossible to miss. If they were in fact from the apartment, then the possibility that the stalker had an accomplice was high. More important than the veiled threat, though, was the clear imprint of soot-stained fingertips deliberately smudged onto the paper of the article. Immediately they had taken a scan of the prints and sent them to the Preventers' office for possible matches, calling in a few favors. In express transit mail they sent a sample of the ashes. To no one's surprise, the surveillance equipment around the letterbox had picked up nothing suspicious.
The next day brought no new mail, but that didn't make anyone feel any better.
While waiting for the lab to contact them with the results on the fingerprints, the group wandered around the grounds, breaking into pairs or just co-existing in the same area. They were sure to stay away from the flurry of planners and newly hired staff that was setting up for the impending party. It seemed silly to be preparing for a celebration, but in a few days there would be a full mansion, and the house had to be ready. Of course, this hustle and bustle made being paranoid very difficult. Every caterer that passed by caused wary glances from the ex-soldiers and generally made the staff feel quite unsettled.
That afternoon, Quatre's communications center beeped, the signal echoing through the estate. The blond man had set up the computer to filter its alert through the intercom system, thus informing them when the lab results came back. In less than five minutes the three couples had convened in Quatre's bedroom. While the Arabian brought up the email from the Preventers and downloaded the file results, the others vented their anticipation in a variety of ways.
Duo was pacing back and forth through the room, his braid swinging behind him like the tail on a nervous cat. Heero was standing at Quatre's desk, his hands planted on the smooth surface as he leaned forward, glaring at the computer screen as though he could make the machine work faster by sheer will alone. Trowa had his fingertips resting lightly on the back of Quatre's chair, his eyes patiently fixed on the download progress bar as it grew to one hundred percent. Behind the group and lateral to Duo's pacing circuit, Wufei was letting Relena hold onto his hand tightly, her grip flexing absently as she watched the computer screen.
For his part, the Chinese man watched Duo pace. Wufei felt his anger rise as he observed how visibly strained the man was, and a glance at Heero's stoic face made him even more upset. The warrior within him cried for restitution for his friends' torment. It wasn't right for the two to survive two wars, finally find happiness, and then have it threatened by some sick coward. Wufei scowled.
"It's done," Quatre announced needlessly as the little progress bar blinked solid. A moment later the lab results were displayed graphically on the screen, and a typed documentation of the tests done and the data cascaded behind the image window.
"May I?" Heero asked, leaning forward. Quatre got up from the chair and let him scan through the information. A moment later the Japanese man's monotone, a throwback from his days as a professional soldier, filled the hushed room. "No matches found. They ran it through the international database of all the people arrested in the last seventy-five years. Whoever sent us these envelopes has a clean record."
"Maybe the finger prints aren't from the stalker?" Duo asked suddenly, halting mid step and turning towards the group. "Maybe the stalker got someone else to handle the article before sending it in order to mislead us. They must have known that we couldn't run a trace on their DNA from the dried blood, so in order to throw us off track he could have planted the fingerprints."
"Hey, wait, why couldn't you run a trace on the blood from before?" Relena asked.
"Running fingerprints is different than running DNA," Wufei replied, squeezing the woman's hand. "Everyone is usually fingerprinted upon arrest, but not everyone has blood drawn for DNA testing. Therefore there is next to nothing to compare a blood test with, not to mention that those DNA records are strictly monitored. We to pull strings just to get these fingerprints analyzed. To get DNA testing done and the necessary matching, they would have had to file a report with either the police or the Preventers."
"And the damn media would have got wind of it if we had reported this," Duo muttered, resuming his pacing, his hands tucked behind his back. "They would have called us all sorts of names, said we were going soft or whatever, or would have done the exact opposite and blown the whole thing out of proportion. Either way, life would become very difficult very quickly."
"What about the ashes? What were the results on those?" Trowa asked after a moment.
"Hold on," Heero replied quietly, scanning through the rest of the attached files. "The analysis on the ashes was a fairly simple procedure, so as soon as the lab received the sample they were able to get results in less than an hour. The data is inconclusive. There are notes that state the embers could be from an explosion, and there are tiny bits of concrete and glass mixed in with the soot, but the materials are generic, same as the bombed building. They could have been fabricated or they could be genuine, it's impossible to tell."
"Great," Duo said darkly, his footsteps now thudding loudly on the plush carpet. Every turn at the end of his short route was violent but controlled, his eyes narrowed to angry bright slits as he stared straight ahead.
"So basically the so-called clues amount to nothing," Quatre concluded. "At least no one can actually harm you here. In a few days we're going be in the company of some of the deadliest people in the Earth and space."
"Yes, but what about later?" Duo asked, pacing more furiously. "Sure, we're safe right here at this exact second, but what about later? Will our next apartment building be blown to fucking hell? Will we get photographed from a distance, have our hair snipped, get weird packages, and have our things stolen? This asshole set up explosives right under our noses! He's taken our picture when all six of us were there and even left it, taunting us! I'm not convinced that we're safe at all right now! There is obviously an implied threat in everything that is sent to us, this stalker is working up to something, playing with us. He's got something planned."
"Don't jump to conclusions--" Quatre started.
"Don't you fucking tell me not to jump to conclusions!" Duo hissed, whirling towards the blond. "You'd be just as pissed and paranoid if you were the one being threatened and watched! You'd feel the same way if it was *your* lover who received a lock of his own hair in the mail!"
"Duo, calm down. Yelling at your allies will only help your enemy," Wufei cut in calmly.
For a moment the American man just stood there, his eyes blazing deadly fire as his fists clenched. Then he visibly sagged, letting his eyes slip closed as he forced the rage away. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"It's okay, we all understand that you're upset," Quatre answered quickly.
By this time Heero had left the computer chair and had moved to stand in front of Duo. Slowly the longhaired man lifted his bowed head, his eyes sliding open again as he acknowledged Heero's presence. "I'm just worried."
"I know. I am too," Heero admitted, pulling his partner into a tight embrace.
The move surprised everyone. The Japanese man was not known for displays of affection, and no matter how far he had come from being the cold stoic soldier, he still wasn't an emotional person. After a bare second of shock, Duo found himself hugging back fiercely.
Duo buried his face in the side of Heero's neck, closing his eyes again and breathing deeply of the other man's unique scent. He tightened his arms, squeezing closer, a reassurance that they were both still there and still okay. To survive wars and be threatened in such insidious ways made him feel so bitter, so angry, and so very helpless. Neither noticed at first, but they were now alone. The others had left the room to give them a measure of privacy.
"I'm sorry that I'm acting so weak," Duo finally whispered. "I don't want to lose you. I lose everyone."
"I'm not going anywhere, you're not acting weak, and I am sure as hell not going to let some lowlife coward hurt either one of us," Heero replied, pulling away slightly so that he could look Duo in the eyes.
"I know that, I really do, but I can't help but be worried. This guy has been preparing for a long time and has gotten very close to us already. I'm sure if he could set explosives in our building without us noticing, take our pictures, break into our apartment, and cut your hair, then he's had ample opportunity to harm us already," Duo answered, biting down hard on his lower lip.
"But he hasn't," Heero said quietly. "And if he's just trying to scare us, then you're letting him win. Correction, *we're* letting him win."
"You're scared?" Duo asked, raising an eyebrow. His voice wavered into a lighter tone. "Thought good soldiers weren't scared of anything?"
"You know as well as I do, that notion is absolutely ridiculous," the Japanese man replied, letting a smirk grown on his face. "A good soldier can get scared, but he has to act in spite of that fear. Be tough, be stoic...or hide it all by laughing."
"Eh, you got me," Duo laughed quietly, tightening his arms again around his partner.
"And I'm glad," Heero whispered back, nuzzling the side of his face against Duo's soft hair.
It was a long time before they broke their embrace and went out to join the others. Even though they were both still nervous about their stalker, they felt reassured that everything would work out. After all, they were a couple of former terrorists that stayed in close contact with other former terrorists, a high few high level politicians, and some very powerful people.
Most importantly, though, they had each other.
~ ~ ~ ~
The next day brought clouds, wind, and smattering rain. After a morning spent snuggled in bed, shielded against the morning weather, Duo and Heero wandered out of their room to partake of the wonderful smelling food being prepared in the kitchen. Minutes later the pair was sitting down at the small table with their friends.
It was about half way through the meal that the mail was brought in. Immediately six plates were abandoned and pushed aside. There wasn't much in that day's mail, just a few circulars, a few random advertisements, and a package. The small cardboard box was about two inches tall and approximately one foot square, and there was a conspicuous absence of a return address gracing the package beside the local postmark.
"Who gets the honors?" Duo asked, running his fingers through his messy bangs, tugging on his hair.
"It's not ticking. Is it not unusually heavy, nor does it smell strange," Wufei stated, poking the box with his butter knife. "I'll open it."
"No, it's addressed to Duo and I," Heero cut in. "I'll do it."
Wufei just shrugged and settled back down in his seat. Relena let out a deep breath and looked relieved.
In one quick motion Heero ripped the end flaps of the box open and dumped the contents of the package onto the center of the table. Along with a slip cover made of that hard to cut gray material, a small tinkling of metal shards came raining out of the box, scattering across the table in all directions.
"What are those?" Relena asked, picking up one of the little metal lumps between her thumb and forefinger.
"Pieces of shrapnel," Trowa answered matter-of-factly. "Probably removed from someone."
"Removed from me," Heero mumbled as he picked up the gray envelope.
Relena dropped the shrapnel and made a sour face.
"You kept your shrapnel?" Quatre asked, looking nervous and intrigued at the same time.
"Of course he did. So did I. Didn't you?" Duo replied absently, not shifting his gaze from the smaller package in Heero's hands.
"I kept that bullet from last year," Wufei added. "It's normal."
"Sure it is," Relena muttered, shooting a sideways glance over at him.
By this time Heero had finished easing the gray envelope's thick material open. He dumped the contents beside the box. A multitude of photographs fluttered out of the envelope and slipped along the smooth tabletop.
"They're from my picture album," Duo said, his voice echoing astonishment. "Of all the things I expected, it wasn't this."
After shifting through the photographs, the obsessive malice of the stalker was manifested in every single stolen image. Every picture was mutilated. The eyes of every person in every picture were cut out, sliced right out of the photograph with what had to have been an extremely sharp knife or razor. There was no collateral damage on the images, just the eyes had been stolen from the people pictured, even those that were barely discernable in the background. Not a single captured soul was spared.
The single-minded intensity of the action was disturbing.
"Damn," Duo muttered, picking up a picture from when all five former pilots had all been active Preventers. He peered through the hole where his image's left eye used to be, blinking as he surveyed the grim faces of the others around the table through the small opening.
"He probably took these when he got the blood soaked towel," Heero fumed quietly. The idea that someone had taken something that seemed so ordinary but was really so very precious...it was as though the stalker had damaged their memories, diving down into the past and mutilating the nostalgia that could be gleaned from those pleasant times captured on film. He never would have thought that mere images on paper would mean so much, or that he'd be so troubled by their destruction. A glance at Duo showed that similar thoughts were racing through the American's mind. It was an invasion of privacy, one that was severely unsettling.
"This is the work of a disturbed individual," Wufei declared solemnly, looking at a photograph of taken about a month after the first wars had ended. One of the few times all the pilots had met up during that time, they were gathered on a colony observation deck, leaning against the railing casually. Quatre was speaking, Trowa looked content, and Duo was laughing. Heero was just looked oddly at the American teenager, his thick eyebrows raised. As for himself, Wufei was looking over his shoulder at the camera, half listening to Quatre. The picture was a moment in time, captured by Hilde on a whim. Now it was destroyed, carefully mutilated, decimated in a calculated act of malice.
After a long silence only marred by the morbid shuffling of photographs, Quatre spoke. "At least there will be more people here in a couple of days. Maybe someone will have a resource or an idea that we haven't thought of yet."
"How embarrassing," Duo muttered, letting the picture he was looking at slid out of his grip. "We're freaked out of our minds by some silly packages and indirect threats. Heero, we're highly trained terrorists, how the hell can someone do this to us and cover their tracks so well?"
Heero didn't answer.
~ ~ ~ ~
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