Any comments are greatly appreciated! Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of GW. I just like to borrow them and dress them up in period costume now and then.
Roaring 20's Part 3
Chapter 3
Dover
Relena shivered slightly as the wind blowing off the sea whipped around her. Sometime last night the temperature had dropped, and this morning was gray and chill. The ocean was choppy, reflecting the dull leaden color of the sky. She pulled her coat closer around her and hoped the ship would be on schedule.
Her father noticed the movement. "Relena, you can wait in the car if you want to. I don't want you to catch a chill out here."
She mustered a smile. Hilde probably wouldn't approve of her demure long dress and coat, but at least they offered her some protection against the cold. "It's alright, Father. I wanted to come." Which was not precisely true, but something had made her insist on accompanying him to greet the Romefeller delegation. Last night at dinner she had watched the lines deepen in his face as he talked about it.
"I may be worrying over nothing," he had said when she questioned him. "Still, the Romefeller Kingdom may be very small, but they wield a great deal of influence. They control one of the most powerful financial combines in Europe, and they have close ties to many of the other Royal Houses. I won't be easy until I know what their plans are for this conference. They have a way of getting what they want."
"So you think they have some kind of hidden agenda?"
"I'm not sure." Lord Darlian paused to stare moodily into his cup of coffee. "But I think it bodes ill that they've chosen to send Treize Khushrenada as head of the delegation. That man is entirely too clever, and too good at bringing people over to his side, even against their better judgment. I would like to think Romefeller wouldn't try to use this conference to further their own ends..."
"You'll manage to deal with them somehow,"she told him, trying to sound reassuring. "You're the mediator, and all the delegates trust you."
He smiled at her, but his eyes were still worried. "I sincerely hope you're right, Relena."
A shout made her look up. "The ship's coming into port!" someone called. Around them, various other members of the greeting committee hurried to take their positions. If Relena hadn't already had a good idea how influential Romefeller could be, this would have convinced her. This was definitely more pomp than the representative of a supposedly minor Royal House would usually merit.
The big liner docked with no hitches, and it wasn't long before the gangplank was lowered for the delegation to make their way down to the shore. The first person off the ship was unquestionably His Excellency Treize Khushrenada. Her first impression was that he looked startlingly young for the post he held; he couldn't be more than ten years older than she was! Still, the sheer confidence with which he carried himself was impressive. And he definitely made a striking figure; the rough sea wind hadn't ruffled his immaculate ginger hair or created the faintest of lines in his snowy shirtfront and long, fawn-colored coat. He looked less like an ambassador who had just crossed half of Europe and endured a trip across the choppy English Channel than a Royal Duke stepping out of the House of Lords for a breath of fresh air. And then she saw his eyes; deep blue and slightly feline in shape under the odd eyebrows, they gave her a sudden sense of keen, amused intelligence. Something about those eyes disquieted her.
She abruptly tore her eyes away from the Ambassador to study the rest of his party. Just behind and to his right was a tall woman in a severe dark red dress, her brown hair drawn up into an old-fashioned coil, regarding the world rather disapprovingly through wire-rimmed glasses. Behind her were two people walking side by side. The first was a woman with short blue-black hair, dressed in the same severe style as the first, but in royal blue rather than maroon. She had an air of alertness about her and seemed to be taking in every detail of the scene.
The second was a man in what was clearly a military uniform; he looked like something out of a history book in his scarlet coat, white breeches, and high, polished boots. Relena, who had a wide experience with royal courts, decided he must be the guard of honor for the Important Personage. Archaic uniforms usually signaled someone who worked close to the throne. With his startlingly handsome face and long fair hair, he looked even more like a figure from an eighteenth-century romance. To Relena's chagrin, he looked up and caught her watching him. For a long moment, she felt frozen; completely unable to look away, as if she was waiting for the answer to some unspoken question that had passed between them.
Then his eyes moved, and she shook herself out of her trance. Get ahold of yourself, Relena! Here comes the Ambassador, you don't want to stand there gaping like a landed fish.
The Ambassador, it seemed, wasn't inclined to stand on formalities. "Lord Darlian?" he asked, holding out his hand to Relena's father. "It's most kind of you to come out to greet me in this wretched weather."
"Think nothing of it. I am here to extend Britain's warmest welcome to you and your delegation. Were pleased to have you join the Conference."
The Ambassador's smile was blinding in the sheer charm it exuded, but Relena found herself wondering what was going on behind those mocking eyes. "It's an honor to be here. In these trying times, it is imperative that we do everything in our power to maintain stability in Europe."
"I hope all the other delegates share your sentiments, Ambassador Khushrenada. We may have a long road ahead of us."
Lord Darlian replied gravely.
"You're far too modest. Everyone on this continent knows you as the voice of peace and reason. With your leadership, this conference can't possibly fail." The man was all charm and diplomacy. Why, then, did she keep looking for the barb under his words?
"And may I take it this is your daughter?" She was mildly alarmed to find that he had turned to her.
"Yes, this is my daughter Relena."
"Charmed." He took her hand, and for an awful moment she thought he was going to kiss it. However, he merely bowed over it and released it. Relena returned with the most graceful curtsy she could muster. "And now I should introduce my associates: Lady Une-" The woman with the glasses murmured a courteous, but brusque greeting. "Miss Noin-" This was the black-haired woman, whose greeting sounded a little more sincere, though her expression was reserved. "And Captain Marquise, of the Royal Guard."
Once again, she got the impression the blond man was studying her intently, but she dismissed it as a product of overwrought nerves. Relena suppressed a sigh. She felt a headache lurking around her temples.
On the roof of a building some distance away, a young man watched the group turn and head towards the flotilla of official cars waiting to take them back to London. When the last limousine had departed, he turned, impatiently brushing back his bangs as they fell over the binoculars, to watch the ship for any further signs of activity.
London
"I've just gotten a radio from Trowa!" The announcement was followed shortly by the appearance of a fair-haired boy, whose innocent face made him look somewhat younger than his actual age of 17 or 18, wearing a neat dove-gray business suit, and bearing a teapot.
What was his report?" Heero demanded.
"Nothing out of the ordinary. They came, were met by Lord Darlian and a few other members of the diplomatic corps and left for London. Trowa said no one else has disembarked from the ship so far but crew. Can I pour anyone some tea? I think the heat in this building has finally died."
Duo, across the table snorted. "The heat's BEEN dead, Quatre. And nothing's gonna warm me up except nice, strong black coffee with plenty of sugar!"
Heero ignored this comment. "I wouldn't expect them to send spies and saboteurs on the same boat as the delegation."
"Yeah, Romefeller's not exactly going to announce that they're bankrolling a secret organization that plans to take over the world!" Duo interjected.
"Which is why Wufei is out scouring the docks; trying to find out if there has been an unusual influx of foreigners lately," Quatre said, extracting a solitary teacup from a cabinet on the wall. The building was a run-down two-story affair, last occupied by a small shipping company that had gone out of business, and now owned by a subsidiary of Winner Enterprises, Ltd. It had been universally agreed that any renovations would probably only call undue attention to the shabby building, so the amenities were few.
Heero frowned at the map of London on the wall. "Hn. If they're planning something on the scale those plans I read suggested, they will need more than the few agents they have here now."
"Unquestionably. My people have managed to unearth several shipments within the last few weeks that were certainly weapons."
"Must be nice to have flunkies to take care of the legwork," Duo told him with a grin.
Even Quatre’s even temper had its limits. "The Maguanac Tribe are not "flunkies!" They are very loyal and respected allies of-"
Duo grinned, pleased to have finally gotten a reaction out of someone. "OK, OK! The point is, if they're bringing in all those weapons, they've gotta have someone to use them, and we need to find out where they're hiding!"
"Thanks to Heero, we now know where those weapons went. If we're lucky, Wufei should be able to pick up the trail of the people they're intended for." Quatre sighed. "Only two weeks until the Conference starts. With OZ's leader on English soil, things are going to be busy. We need to move fast."
"Affirmative. I'll take care of the weapons drop point tonight."
"Want some company, Heero? A place like that will probably be pretty well guarded." The light dancing in Duo's eyes had gotten perceptibly brighter at the thought of action, and his wide grin had a wicked edge to it.
"I'll do it alone. You have your own assignment, Maxwell."
The American blew a gusty, exaggerated sigh. "Why is it you guys always stick me with the dull jobs?" he inquired plaintively.