I do not own Gundam Wing.  This fan fiction has no commercial value and I am not making any kind of profit or income off of this.  

 

Chapter 14

 

            Zeches smirked as he read over the paper in front of him.  Not full immunity, but close enough.  He wouldn’t have to do any hard time.  Fools.  In two years, he would be out, and then he’d even be able to get revenge on that low-life scum Heero Yuy. 

            A knock sounded on the door to the conference room where Treize, Zeches and four attorneys sat around a large oblong oak table.  Duo entered wearing a very somber navy-blue suit.  Treize looked up in surprise.  “Can’t it wait, Maxwell?”

            “Actually, no, sir, it can’t.” Duo replied nervously.  “Damn Heero, why am I doing this?” He asked himself for the hundredth time.

            Treize rose from the table, and followed Duo out into the hallway.

            “You can’t give Zeches the deal.  Heero says the chief’s the one that ordered the hit on Darlian.”

            “Does he have proof?  I admit I don’t like the idea of giving partial immunity to a man that shot up one of my agents, but it’s the Barton Foundation we’re after. We need his testimony and the Governor’s to make a case against them.”

            “Heero says that Trowa will turn state’s evidence on this.  He suggested we offer him the deal,” Duo cringed in preparation for the onslaught of verbal abuse sure to erupt from Treize’s mouth.  He was not disappointed.

            “WHAT?” Treize roared.  “No.  Absolutely not! Yuy should be counting his lucky stars that I haven’t started proceedings against him for his conduct on this case.  It’s highly suspect.  First, he stopped reporting in, then he falls for the girl, and ruins our plans for the set-up.  He nearly got himself and one of the suspects killed.”  Treize was glaring at him, “That doesn’t include the reports we got from other agents indicating he had possibly switched sides…you’d better just make it clear to him that he’d better watch his step.”

            Duo nodded.  “Yes sir.  But I’ve known him for a long time – he’s a good man.  And he’s the one that should know the most about the players in this case.  I think we should at least hear him out.”

            “I’ll pull the offer off the table temporarily.  I’m sure I can think of some excuse.  Other than that, I can’t promise anything.  We can keep Marquise in lock-up over the weekend, but after that we either have to tell the police to charge him or let him go.  Yuy had better make his case quickly – and it’d better be good.”

            “I’ll tell him.”

            “Good.  Now get out of my sight,” Treize barked and turned to go back into the conference room.

            Just before he opened the door, he plastered on a fake smile for the lawyers’ benefit, “Gentlemen…”

            Duo shook his head and walked away. 

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Treize sighed as he gazed at the report on his desk, not able to read the words – just staring blankly at it, lost in thought.  This case was taking its toll on all involved.  He and Zeches had known each other a long time. They had met in basic training, and served the same tour in the last war.  He used to be someone Treize could depend on for anything - he hated thinking of what the man had become. 

            He heard a noise coming from outside his office, strange at this hour of the evening; everyone should have gone home by now.  He looked up when the door opened and stood in surprise.  “Yuy!  What are you doing out of the hospital?”

            The young man’s complexion was an unhealthy shade of white, and there were dark circles under his eyes.  “I’m fine,” he snapped, while walking into the room and taking a seat in front of his superior.

            “You’re crazy.  You should be resting.”

            “Perhaps.  But not when there is still work to be done.  You can’t let Zeches walk.”

            “Look, if this is some crazy vendetta you have against Marquise, then I have no interest in hearing what you have to say.”

            “Oh, I’d love to have my revenge on him someday, but I never will. I won’t hurt Relena that way.”

            Treize flinched with those words, remembering that he had been the one to slip and tell the Governor about Yuy’s assignment.  “I don’t guess I understand the full extent of his involvement in all this.  And I fail to see why I should offer a deal to Trowa Barton.”

            “That’s why I came to explain it to you.”

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Relena sighed and kicked off her shoes before collapsing on the hotel bed in exhaustion. She hugged her knees to her chest and tried to block out the flood of memories that threatened.  She had felt more alive these last few days than she had ever remembered feeling in her entire life – except for those few months that happened ten long years ago.  But he was rejecting her.  She didn’t think she could stand going through the pain again, and yet the part of herself she had found within wasn’t ready to die without a fight.

            “It’s my life,” she told herself and sat up.  Relena climbed out of the bed and crossed the room to look in the mirror at her reflection.  “Who are you?  Do you even know, anymore?”  She asked the image.  It stared back in silence.  No words of wisdom flowed from its full red lips.  No looks of comfort or sympathy were bestowed from its heartbroken blue eyes.  She was empty, alone, spent.  But somewhere deep inside she could feel what was left of her passionate heart and soul screaming to get out of the empty shell she was gazing at in the glass.  No, she wasn’t dead yet.  She just had to figure out how to live again, on her own.

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“Flight 209 to Dallas Fort Worth is now boarding gate 6,” the feminine voice announced over the noise of the crowd.  Two men looked at each other, then around at all the people milling about. 

            Something, or rather someone, caught Heero’s eye.  “There she is,” he said, slapping Duo’s shoulder and pointing at the blond girl near the window.

            Duo sighed.  “Let’s go.”

           

            Relena looked out the window as she waited in line to board her flight.  Her face was sad – she didn’t want to leave, and yet she couldn’t stay.  She needed to think about what she was going to do with her life.  She had to get away, from her father, her brother, Heero… 

            She was startled out of her reverie by a tap on the shoulder.  “Excuse me miss, we’re with the FBI, the Federal Bureau of Investigations.  We need to ask you a few questions.”

            She turned wide-eyed to come face-to-face with Duo and Heero.  She gasped in surprise.  “What are you doing out of the hospital?”  She asked Heero with concern.

            “Miss Darlian, we’re here to escort you to headquarters.” Duo said solemnly.

            “I have a flight….”

            Heero grabbed her left arm roughly, “It’s been cancelled.”  He said and started to pull her toward the exit.  Duo kept up with their pace, remaining on Relena’s right side as they walked to the waiting car.

 

            “What’s going on?”  She asked once they had left airport property.

            Duo turned around in the passenger’s seat.  “How ‘ya been, Relena?” he asked with a smile.

            “Okay, I guess.  Where are we going?” she asked, confusion still written on her face.

            “We’re taking you to police headquarters.  You have questions to answer about your relationship with Trowa Barton.” Heero said in his usual monotone.

            Relena ignored him.  “Duo, should he be driving?  I thought he wasn’t supposed to be out of the hospital for another week.”

            Duo grinned.  “Yeah, well, after I drove over here, he decided it would be safer if he drove.  I told him that old lady jumped out in front of me, but he wouldn’t listen.  And as for the hospital thing, well, he just left.  He’s too stubborn to die, I guess.”

            Heero stopped glaring at Relena in the rearview mirror long enough to glower at his friend.  He didn’t like the fact that they were talking about him like he wasn’t there.  And he was really upset about the fact that they had caught her trying to leave without at least telling him good-bye - especially since she had promised him that day in the hospital that they would talk.  In his mind, she had some explaining to do.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

 

            They arrived at headquarters, and Duo helped Relena out of the backseat of the car.  The two young men accompanied her into the building, leading her through a maze of corridors until they had arrived outside an oak-colored door marked “interrogation”.  Trowa was already there, sitting down in a chair outside the room, flanked by his own two FBI agents.  He still looked sickly pale despite being dressed in his usual three-piece suit.  The navy-blue jacket hung loosely off his left shoulder, while his arm rested over his heart, supported by a dark blue cotton sling.

            Trowa saw Relena and smiled slightly.  Heero glared at him, but quickly masked his expression, trying to keep focused on his job.  “This way, Miss Darlian,” he said coldly, opening the door for her and indicating she should step into the interrogation room.  She quietly obeyed and sat down with her back to the door.

            Relena looked around her; it was like something out of the movies.  A large two-way mirror hung on the wall to her left; otherwise the room was empty save for the four chairs and small table.  She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves.  She didn’t have anything to worry about – she hadn’t done anything wrong.  But the cold way Heero was acting still unnerved her.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Heero led Trowa to another room down the short hallway.  He shut the door and turned to his friend.  “They’re going to offer you a deal.  You need to take it.  That’s all I can do for you.”

            Trowa regarded him thoughtfully.  “You know I can’t do that.”

            “I’m repaying my debt, Trowa, if you won’t take it, then it’s your own problem, but leave me out of it, understand?”  Heero said flatly.

            A faint smile appeared on Trowa’s lips.  “I understand, Heero.  You know I am a man of my word.  I’ll never tell them about your activities with the organization.”

            Relief washed over him, and the tension in his shoulders dissipated.  “Trowa, take the deal.  You’re a dead man, otherwise.  Zeches will kill you.”

            “To cover up his part in the assassination, no doubt.  You told Treize that Zeches was the one to order the hit, I take it?”  Trowa asked.

            “Yeah.  That’s why they’re willing to deal with you instead of him.”

            Trowa shook his head, “I can’t take the offer.  I’m a dead man either way, I’m afraid.”

            “No you’re not, Trowa!  The government can protect you – give you a new name, new life, everything you need to start over.”

            Trowa bowed his head and stared at the ground.  “I’m already a dead man.  A living, breathing, walking corpse,” he said quietly.

            “Just think about it,” Heero said firmly, trying to ignore the feelings Trowa’s words stirred as they struck a familiar chord with his heart.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Treize was just leaving the interrogation room where he had spent the last several hours with Darlian and his numerous attorneys.  The Governor would testify, but he was in too deep to escape scot-free.  His political career would soon be over, as he was going to have to resign his position.  Treize didn’t care; the Lieutenant Governor Quatre Raberba Winner was, by all accounts, a good man.

            Overall, the questioning had gone well so far, Treize had obtained crucial evidence on several key political figures, and found new leads for his people to investigate.  He went into the observation room to watch Duo question the Governor’s daughter.  It looked like there would be no surprises with her.  She didn’t seem to know anything except what Yuy and her father had told her.

            He rubbed his temples.  It was still early, and he had been up late discussing the case with Yuy the night before.  He needed his morning cup of coffee desperately.  Treize put the file on the Governor down on the table and went in search of his daily dose of caffeine.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Dorothy cast a questioning glance over at her attorney sitting across the table.  “Full immunity?” She asked. 

            “Full immunity.  My advice is to sign it and agree to testify.  Otherwise, they have the testimony of the Governor as to your involvement.  If convicted you could face up to fifteen years in prison,” her attorney stated, matter-of-factly. 

            Dorothy sighed. “Forgive me Zeches, but my neck comes before yours, my love.  I’m sure you’d do the same,” she said to herself, and signed the papers.

            The attorney handed the papers over to the FBI agent standing near the door.  “Please tell Special Agent-in-Charge Khrushrenada that Miss Catalonia is ready to give her testimony.”

            The agent nodded, took the papers and went in search of Treize.  Dorothy sat back and waited to tell her part of the story.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Zeches paced nervously about the room.  He had spent the weekend in prison – they wouldn’t let him stay in jail, since the jailors were still his own men.   The department was going to make the announcement later that day that he was being suspended pending further investigation into the charges filed in this case. 

            The cause of his nervousness wasn’t the time he spent in prison, but rather the fact that Treize had taken the offer of conditional immunity off the table.  He said it was likely to be temporary, but that nagging feeling that something had gone horribly wrong just would not be vanquished within his heart.  He and Treize had known each other a long time – they had been through war together, covered each other’s backs in desperate situations facing down death and deadly enemies.  Certainly he would give his old friend the benefit of the doubt….

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Trowa sat quietly and waited for his turn.  He didn’t have to wait long.  Treize came in with two cups of coffee, and offered him one.  Trowa accepted it and set it on the table in front of him.  He looked at Treize expectantly.

            “I need you to tell me about the extent of Zeches’s involvement with the Barton Foundation.  How did he tie into the ‘grand scheme’ of things, and what were his roles and responsibilities.”

            Trowa bowed his head, and hid his eyes behind his hair.  “What’s in it for me?”

            Treize smiled.  “I can offer you full immunity.”

            “I’d need protection.  I would instantly become a marked man.” His voice was quiet.

            “We can relocate you, give you a new identity.  No one would know where you were, or if you even still existed.”

            “I’ll think about it.”

            “What?”

            “I said I would take it under advisement.  I haven’t decided what I should do,” Trowa said calmly.

            “Did you want to consult with an attorney?”

            “This doesn’t have to do with your code of law.  No, I do not wish to speak with an attorney.”

            “Fine, I’ll leave you then.  Once you’ve made your decision, let one of my agents outside know, and then we’ll either record your testimony or arrange transport for you to be taken to the penitentiary.”  Treize got up to leave the room.

            “Special Agent Krushrenada,” Trowa called out, stopping Treize in his tracks.

            “Yes, Mr. Barton?” Treize replied coldly and turned to face Trowa again.

            “This protection, would it extend to anyone else?  If there was someone I wanted to take with me, would your agency relocate her, too?”  Trowa asked.  His voice was quiet, but firm and patiently toneless as always. 

            “The protection extends to certain members of your immediate family.  We will not relocate girlfriends; however a wife, a sister, a mother would be acceptable as long as they are willing,” Treize replied in confusion.

            “Thank you.  I will take that under advisement.” 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Dorothy smiled thinly at Treize.  “What do you want to know?”

            “What was your part in all this?” he asked, glancing quickly at the tape recorder on the table as he spoke.

            “Well, I guess you could say I was in charge of communication.”

            “Please explain.”

            “I sent messages back and forth between Zeches, the Governor, and Trowa Barton.”

            “What kind of messages?”

            “Oh, anything that needed to be communicated, I guess,” Dorothy replied vaguely.  She wasn’t sure how to explain it.

            “Do you have copies of your communications?”

            Dorothy laughed.

            “What’s so funny?  How did you send these messages?  We found no records on phone or computer.”

            Dorothy smiled.  “Of course not.  That’s because Relena carried them in person.”