What in the hell was he going to tell Duo?

Heero’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He’d thought it would be bad but not this bad. He’d had no idea Dekim was so close. He should lie to him. The Company would say he had no real need to know, and he was good at lies. They came easily these days.

He didn’t want to lie to him. He was sick to his soul of lies.

And he liked Duo Maxwell. He was such a complicated combination of fragility and strength, uncertainty and boldness. He liked his guts and his honesty and even the stubbornness that was causing him so much trouble.

And he had made him a promise.

To hell with “need to know”, he would tell him what he could. It probably didn’t matter anyway.

Not now.

***************

“Well?” I asked as soon as Heero walked into the room. “You took long enough.”

“I did some driving around. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t being followed.” He headed for the kitchen. “Do you want coffee?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “No, I want you to talk to me.”

“Well, I need it.” He measured the coffee and water into the machine and turned it on. “Why do they always have these two cup jobs in hotel rooms?” [1]

“Where did you go today Heero?”

“I called Zechs Marquise with the CDC and had him meet me at the center.”

“And?”

“I brought him the money I took from the poor box at the church to analyze.”

After everything that had happened, I had forgotten about the money.

“When Dekim sent his men into Tenajo for the cleanup, we had orders to go through town and collect any twenty-peso bills we found. They were put in specially insulated bags and later burned. We evidently missed the poor box then. Dekim will be most upset.”

“Pesos?”

“Counterfeit pesos printed with a very special ink. According to Zechs, a genetically mutated anthrax bacteria was added to the lilac ink.”

“Anthrax.” I whispered. “My God.”

“What do you know about it?”

“Just what I learned while I studied medicine for a few years. Most people get it from handling infected material like leather or animal furs.”

“It usually occurs as coetaneous, intestinal, or pulmonary infection. The kind released in Tenajo was pulmonary. It affects the lungs and pleura and the mutation causes it to kill within six hours of contact. But it didn’t act on everyone in the same way. From the condition of the corpses, it was clear some died within minutes, while others took hours.”

The little boy in the store looked struck down, as if by lightning. “But everyone died.”

“Hai, but the time difference bothered Dekim. I think that’s why he’s delayed going forward. But he’s close. Too close.”

“There’s a serum for anthrax. It usually works very well.”

“Not for this mutated version.”

“No cure?”

“Working twenty-four hours a day for the next eight months might produce one. We’re not going to be given that luxury.”

“And Dekim used money to kill all those people.” I whispered.

“Can you think of a better way? Who’s going to refuse money? Tenajo was a poor little village. When Dekim’s men drove into town and distributed the pesos to everyone, they probably thought they had died and gone to heaven.”

“And then they did die.” It was hard for me to comprehend such calculated malice. It was like those twisted people who laced Halloween candy with poison and gave it to children. “How could Dekim’s men pass out the money without harming themselves?”

”They put the money in specially sealed see-through plastic envelopes. It took almost as long to develop those envelopes as it did to mutate the anthrax.”

Like the envelopes he’d taken out of the poor box.

“Was your briefcase specially sealed too?”

He nodded. “But I wasn’t worried. Dekim wasn’t afraid to let the public health team into Tenajo. He’d tried to pick up every peso, but there’s no way he would have chanced one of those officials dying of anthrax. It had to have had a built-in dissipation system. I think its life must have been at least twelve hours, because Dekim was sure you and your friend had been infected.”

“The root…” I said numbly. “The priest kept saying ‘the root’ before he died. I thought he had been talking about poison. He was talking about the money.”

“The root of all evil? Possibly.”

“What does Dekim want that would make him do this?”

“I’m not sure what the crazy bastard wants.” The coffee was done and he poured a cup.

“You have to know. You worked for him.”

“He wants to use it as a blackmail tool, so money is an obvious answer. And power. But I think there’s more.” He sipped his coffee. “He’s a wild card.”

“He’s like some cartoon monster.”

“Don’t even think it,” he said soberly. “He’s very intelligent, or he wouldn’t have been able to establish his network. Dekim’s lab developed the anthrax and Trieze was handling the counterfeit branch of the operation. Trieze thinks he’s in control, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“What about this Trieze?”

“He’s an international terrorist currently stationed in Libya. He’s doing it for politics. He’s been trying to pressure the United States for the past year to influence China to release some prisoners.”

Shock jolted through me. “The United States.”

“I told you that Tenajo was just a test.”

“You didn’t tell me that the United States would be the target.”

“I think you suspected it.”

Maybe I had, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. “You’re sure?”

“Eighteen months ago a set of twenty dollar plates disappeared from the Denver Treasury.”

“But I’ve heard our currency is impossible to reproduce.”

“They could come close enough and the setup would be just like Tenajo. Who’s going to check if money falls from heaven?”

“What city?”

He shook his head. “I don’t even know if it’s been decided.”

“We have to warn someone.”

“Who do you want to call? The president? If he contacts Mexico, he’s going to be assured Tenajo was decimated by cholera. The CDC will confirm it.”

“But you have the contaminated money.”

“That’s another drawback. Even if the president accepts the fact that there’s danger, he can’t make a public announcement. To make the public suspicious of our currency would send the economy crashing. Can you imagine what would happen to the stock market?” His hands tightened on the cup. “That would please Trieze. It would accomplish his purpose without the bother of unleashing the anthrax.”

“So you’re going to chance letting more people die?” I asked in disbelief.

“I didn’t say that. We just have to know more before we send out any warnings.”

“And how are we going to find out any more? You can’t go back to Dekim.”

“I could if I brought him your head.”

I stepped back.

“I was joking.” He said roughly.

I glared at him. “How am I supposed to know? Would it hurt to smile?”

“Maybe.”

“What about your CIA friends? Doesn't one of them have access to someone in the White House who could help?"

Relena Darlian. She's deputy director of the CIA and also went to school with the president. I called her from John Hopkins and told her what I suspected."

"Is she going to do something?"

"Not yet. I told her that I needed more time. I didn't get an arguement. She doesn't want to tell the president how little we can do. She said to contact her if we needed her."

“Sounds like we do need her.”

“I’ve every intention of calling her to tell her Zechs confirmed the anthrax.”

“And to do something official about it.”

He stared at me impassively. “Have a cup of coffee.”

“I don’t want your damn coffee.” I wanted to strangle him. I drew a deep breath and tried to steady my voice. “Call this Relena and tell her to call the White House. I won’t carry around this responsibility.”

“Then ignore it. I’ll carry it.” He finished his coffee in two swallows. “I’ve done it for a long time. A few more days won’t hurt.”

“Then I’ll call someone.”

“You will not,” he said with clear precision. “Not even if I have to tie and gag you. I’ve seen too many operations bungled by bureaucrats through leaks or sheer stupidity.”

“You won’t use force on me.”

“You weren’t too sure a moment ago.”

“You won’t do it.”

“You’re right, I won’t. So you have me defenseless.”

I looked at him startled. “Like a tiger. I doubt if you’ve ever been defenseless in your life.”

“Not if I could help it.” He added simply, “I can’t help it. This means too much. Tenajo wasn’t a complete success, but it was close. We’re running out of time. I have to do anything I can to keep from triggering this thing, and I need you to help me.”

“You mean you need my silence.”

“That’s a big help. I may ask you for more help later.”

“It’s wrong.”

“Maybe. But Dekim is too volatile. I can’t risk him doing something crazy. Do you know what anthrax can do?” His lips twisted. “The British set off an experimental anthrax bomb on an isolated island off the coast of Scotland. A day after the explosion the sheep began to die. Gruinard is still uninhabitable today.”

I shuddered. “And that’s supposed to convince me to keep quiet? Besides, you said the mutated strain has a life of only a few hours.”

“What if Dekim decides to use the unmutated organisms?”

"Yameru. You’re scaring me.”

“You’re not as scared as I am. I’ve seen it. I know what it is.”

“Where did you-”

“Help me.”

I gazed at him with frustration. I had learned how clever he could be and how fully capable he was of manipulating my feelings. But he meant every word he said, and the sheer force of his honesty was overwhelming. “Damn you.”

“I need you.”

I whirled away from him and moved across the room.

“I’m doing the right thing.” His words followed me. “Believe me, Duo.”

Just because he thought he was doing what was right didn’t mean it was.

But what if he was? I’d had a taste of Dekim’s venom. What if a leak triggered him to act? The mutated strain was hideous enough, but the unmutated bacteria was worse. Heero’s story about Gruinard had shaken me.

Heero said, “You don’t know what Dekim is capable—”

“Shut up, you’ve made your point. You’re just like Quatre. I’ll make my own decision, dammit.”

Heero fell silent.

The decision was already made I realized. I turned to face him. “I’ll wait… for a while.” I held up a hand to stop him speaking. “Until we get Quatre away from Dekim. After that, I don’t know. But I won’t be some ventriloquist’s dummy who speaks when you tell him to. Don’t you dare close me out again. I want to know what you know. If I’m going to be responsible for some doomsday weapon going off, it’s not going to be because I’m being kept in the dark.”

He nodded slowly. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” I came toward him. “Give me a cup of that damn coffee. I need it now.”

***************

I glared at Heero as he moved around the kitchenette, tidying after supper. I was a baka. If I had a brain in my head, I would call FBI or CIA or… someone.

But I could see Heero’s point about bureaucracy interfering. I had seen too many mistakes in Somalia to believe in even the best-intentioned organizations.

“You’re burning a hole in me,” Heero said mildly. “Would you mind stopping your glaring?”

“Yes, I would. I enjoy glaring at you.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” He neatly hung up the dishtowel.

“Tell me, is all this domesticity a ploy to disarm me? The contrast is just a little too obvious.”

“Oh, you think that I’m trying to distract you from this gargoyle mug of mine?” He shook his head. “I know it doesn’t work. The face always stays with you.” He turned off the kitchen light and came around the bar. “So I live with it and sometimes use it.”

“I suppose in your profession it could come in handy.”

“My, my, you are trying to hurt me, aren’t you?”

“Does honesty hurt? You do kill people. I saw you.”

“Yeah, I kill people.”

This was ridiculous. For some stupid reason, I was feeling guilty about accusing him of something that I knew very well was the truth.

But the truth wasn’t always kind.

Still, since when did I start looking at things in black and white? Heero was a very complicated guy, and I had found that complicated people were capable of doing both evil and good.

“Well have you made up your mind?” Heero’s gaze was fixed on my face.

“About what?”

“Weren’t you just struggling against giving me the benefit of the doubt?” He suddenly smiled. “I think you lost. You’re too soft, you know. Life must be hard for you.”

“Life’s hard for everyone.” But it was harder when you ran across someone who seemed able to read your thoughts.

“It’s your eyes. It shows everything.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I know. You’d be surprised what a disadvantage it’s been to my career.”

“Oh, I know about those kind of things. Nothing surprises me.”

No bitterness colored his voice, which surprised me. What had it been like growing up with that intimidating face?

Perhaps he hadn’t grown up with it. Maybe as a child he had looked perfectly normal and innocent. His dark blue eyes were perfectly fine and—

“What are you thinking?”

“That you have nice eyes.” I blurted without thinking.

He blinked disconcerted, “Oh.” He quickly glanced away. “We’ve located a safe house for you in North Carolina. I’ll drive you there tomorrow afternoon.”

“Why not tomorrow morning?”

“We have to go to the CDC. I asked Zechs to have the reports ready for me on the mutant strain. I may need documentation.”

“Have you contacted Wufei yet?”

“Wu? I tried him this morning before I left. I couldn’t reach him.”

I frowned. “Shouldn’t we have heard… something?”

“I’ll try him again tomorrow before we leave.” He paused. “But you shouldn’t worry too much, He’ll be in the hills close to Tenajo and unreachable by phone.”

“But you’ll still try?”

“No problem.” He said.

Gentleness? I had to be mistaken. I stood up and moved toward the stairs. “I called Sally this afternoon. Iris is doing fine.”

“That’s good.”

“You bet it is. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I could feel his gaze on my back as I climbed the stairs. It was strange how comfortable I was becoming with him. Well, anyone would probably become comfortable with a tiger if caged with the tiger for any length of time. That didn’t mean I should trust Heero.

But I did trust him or I wouldn’t have let him talk me into remaining silent. Gods, I was tired of it arguing with myself as well as Heero. I had made a decision. Now I had to stop questioning and teetering back and forth. I had done enough of that all my life. I couldn’t afford not to act with sureness and authority now.

Quatre, who had never really needed anyone, needed me. I had to clear my mind of everything but that one important truth, to hell with Heero’s safe house. I would give Wu-man one more day. If he didn’t call with word of Quatre, I would go back.

Heero could save the world. I would concentrate on saving Quatre.

***************

“Anthrax.” Relena repeated. “I can’t keep this under wraps, Heero.”

“Go ahead and tell the president. See what he does about it with no hard documentation. He’s great on documentation. Even if we show him the CDC report, there’s no proof that Tenajo could happen here.”

“……”

“Exactly.”

“It may be too late by the time we get proof, and then it’s the Company on the line again. Politicians will sidestep quicker than you can blink. How much time do you think we have?”

“God knows. We may be on borrowed time already. I think he’s almost ready to go.” He paused. “But he’s waiting for something.”

“What?”

“I’m not sure. Have you managed to tap his phone?”

“Not his cellular. Only the one in his office.”

“What have you found out about Morrisey?”

“Nothing much. He’s evidently in Dekim’s pay. We got the impression he was looking for someone for him. He’s called Dekim several times lately from different cities in the U.S. Is he important?”

Heero had the uneasy feeling that he was very important. “He may be. Quinze said he’s been faxing and phoning Dekim for a long time. Find him.”

“You think we haven’t been trying?”

“Try harder. What about the lab in Iowa?”

“You told me about it just the day before yesterday. I had to pull the FBI into it. They have more domestic contacts.”

“What about the Cheyenne connection?”

“Nothing yet. No sign of any counterfeiting activity. No cases of anthrax reported.”

“There probably won’t be any cases reported in advance of the strike this time. Dekim is almost through experimenting. What about Odin Lowe? Heard anything more?”

“Only that he’s dropped out of sight.” There was a pause. “I want Duo Maxwell, Heero.”

He’d known that was coming. “The CDC is the only place Dekim would trace me to, and I made sure I wasn’t followed. I’m heading for a safe house tomorrow. You can’t have him.”

“I could take him.”

“That’s what you’d have to do.” He added softly, “And do you really want to piss me off that much, Relena?”

“Don’t give me that. I helped make you what you are.”

Relena was actually proud of the assassin she had helped create. Heero never realized that. “The hell you did. Dr. J was the one who gave me the tools and showed me how to use them. That’s all. Nakoa made me what I am.”

Another silence. “You’re lucky you’re in a unique position in the operation. I’ll allow you to have your way… for now. Keep me posted.” Relena hung up.

Lucky? Heero wearily leaned back on the couch. No one connected with this mess was lucky. Not him, not those people in Tenajo and certainly not Duo Maxwell.

He just hoped to hell Odin Lowe was on his way to Timbuktu and not Atlanta.

***************

I did not dream of Quatre that night. I dreamed of L2.

I woke in the middle of the night with tears streaming down my cheeks and Heero standing over me in the darkness.

I jerked upright in bed, my heart pounding furiously. For a moment I thought I was back in that hospital room in San Andreas.

“I heard you crying out,” he said quietly. “I thought you’d want me to wake you.”

I wiped my cheeks with the backs of my hands. “Arigatou.”

He shrugged. “We have enough nightmares to face everyday without tolerating them at night.” He turned and moved toward the stairs. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

No questions. No conversation. Just that single act of understanding.

I lay back down. I had thought I was getting better. I hadn’t dreamed of L2 for nearly three weeks. I was better. I wouldn’t accept anything else.

I closed my eyes and took deep steadying breaths. That usually helped.

It didn’t this time. I started to shake. After several minutes I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I took aspirin and drank a glass of water. I was shaking so badly I almost dropped the glass.

Why wouldn’t it go away? I sank down on the tile floor and hunched there, linking my arms over my knees. Think of something else. Think of Tyngate. Think of Trowa or Quatre or—

“Daijoubu?” Heero was squatting beside me.

Oh, God, I didn’t want anyone to me like this. “No I’m not okay. Go away.”

“I tried to do that. It didn’t work.” He sat down and crossed his legs. “So I have to do something about it.”

“Why? It’s none of your business. I’ll be fine.”

“Is it Tenajo?”

“Do you feel guilty? No, it’s not Tenajo.”

“Dekim?”

“Do you think I’d let that son of a bitch do this to me?” I blinked furiously to keep back the tears. “Will you please go away?”

“No, neither of us will sleep if you keep on like this. You’re shaking so bad, your going to break your tailbone on that hard tile.” He pushed back my hair from my forehead in a gentle gesture. It reminded me of the way he touched Iris. “I think you have to talk to me, Duo.”

“The hell I do.”

“Talk to me about L2.”

I stiffened. “Nanda?”

“L2. That’s what you were muttering when I woke you.”

I moistened my lips. “Then why did you ask about Tenajo?”

“A process of elimination.”

“How analytical.”

“Gomen, that’s the way I am.” He glanced around the brightly lit bathroom. “And my analysis of the situation tells me this isn’t the spot to get you to relax.” He stood up, leaned down, and lifted me to my feet. “Bed.”

“Nani?”

“I meant what I said. Relaxation.” He carried me to the bed and set me down. “Not sex.”

I looked at him in bewilderment. “I didn’t think you meant anything else.”

“I know. I just thought that I’d throw in something to distract you.” He tucked the blanket around me. “ Unless you get off on Dracula. Actually, there are some people who do.” He got up and turned off the bedroom light. The bedroom was plunged into darkness. He sat down beside me and touched my arm. “You’re still shaking, but not as much.”

“Then you can go away.”

“Not after I’ve gone through all this trouble. I don’t want it to happen again tonight. I need my sleep. Talk to me. I won’t go away until you do. How long has it been since you were in L2?”

“Three months.”

“I’ve never heard of L2.”

“It was only a tiny orphanage.”

“Was?”

“They burned it down after the incident.”

“What happened there?”

The babies…

“What happened there, Duo?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Pretend I’m Quatre.”

“I didn’t talk to Quatre about L2.” I hadn’t told those details to anyone. Not even that shrink in the hospital. Why should I talk to Heero?

“Because I don’t care. I’m almost a stranger to you.” He read my thoughts again. “It would be like talking to yourself. What did they do, Duo?”

Blood. So much blood…

“What?” Heero repeated.

“The babies…”

“What babies?”

“I was at the… orphanage. I was doing a photo essay on the orphans of war. The orphanage was crowded, but the kids… It always amazed me how as kids we can be happy in almost any circumstance, especially in orphanages… a little food, a bed, companionship, and they’ll smile at you. There was this one little boy. Solo. He couldn’t have been more than three. He followed me around while I was taking pictures. He was so—” I stopped, and it was a moment before I could continue. “I kept going back. At first I thought it was the story, and then I thought it was just being a good guy. So many couples in America can’t have kids and if they saw the photos… But then I realized it was Solo. I didn’t have any business trying to adopt him. It was all wrong. I’m young, single and always traveling, but I knew I had to have him with me. He was mine. I started the paperwork.”

The dogs were howling.

“And did you adopt him, Duo?”

“Iie.”

“Why not.”

What are you? Some sort of ghoul?

“Why not, Duo?”

“He died,” I whispered. “They all died.”

“How?”

“The guerillas. A truce was supposed to be in effect, but there were still attacks. I was sixty miles away from the orphanage doing another story when we heard about it. I made my driver turn around and go back. The guerillas had already pulled out but the dogs were howling. They kept howling and howling… I went into the orphanage. The children were dead, butchered. Solo was in the kitchen. Who would kill a baby? Monster. They had to be monsters.”

“Hai.”

“I went through the orphanage and took more pictures. I knew that they’d deny it once peace came. It would be covered up and forgotten. That’s the way it always is. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to show—” I could barely talk. I was trying to stop the sobs. “I couldn’t let it—”

“Shh, I know.”

“No you don’t. You weren’t there.”

He was silent for a moment and then stood up. “I’d like to comfort you, but you don’t want that from me. You don’t want me here right now at all. You’re afraid I’ll think that you’re not as tough as you should be.” His hand touched my hair with the same gentleness he had displayed in the bathroom. “You’re wrong. I’ll be right back.”

He was gone. I heard his steps on the staircase. I lay there with the tears running down my face. The sobs soon stopped, but the tears still came.

The babies…

What had I done? I felt as if my insides had been torn out. Once I had started, the words tumbled out and couldn’t be stopped. Why spit out all those memories and pain to Heero?

It’s like talking to yourself.

In a way it had been like that. He’d removed himself, stepped away and let the words pour out into the darkness. And then left me so I’d have no loss of dignity. Why had—

“Is it okay if I turn on the light?” Heero was back, a dark silhouette at the top of the stairs.

“Sure.” I took a deep breath and hurriedly wiped my eyes with the blanket. “But why ask now? I don’t remember you asking permission to turn it off.”

“Different stroked for different games.” He crossed to the bathroom and switched on the light there. “The situation isn’t the same.” He came back to me. “Drink this.”

He was holding a glass of milk.

“Warm milk?” I asked. “Is that another one of your mother’s remedies?”

“Cold milk.” He smiled faintly. “If I went through all the trouble of heating it, you’d think it was another domestic ploy.”

I looked at him over the rim of the glass as I took a sip. He didn’t seem at all domestic. For the first time I realized that he was barefoot and bare-chested and his dark hair was rumpled. He looked muscular, powerful.

And I probably looked like a mess. Thank God he’d turned on only the bathroom light. I felt vulnerable enough as it was. Was that why he hadn’t turned on the more revealing overhead light?

“Drink all of it.”

I took another sip and handed the glass back to him. “That’s enough.”

“Fine.” He stood looking at me. “What happened to the pictures you took at L2?”

“The film was confiscated.”

“Nani?”

“You heard me. When I got back to army headquarters, the colonel confiscated the film. He said it was inflammatory and that publishing it would be detrimental to the peace process. I showed him inflammatory. I nearly went crazy. I screamed and ranted. I notified every politician I knew. None of it did any good. The army doctors said I was having a breakdown and stuck me in a hospital. They kept me there for weeks. When I got out, the massacre had been neatly covered up.” I smiled bitterly. “So even we cover up when it suits us. It made me sick. I hate lies.”

“You have a right.” He paused. “I’m sorry I was so rough on you. Do you think you can sleep now?”

Sleep? I felt ready to collapse. “Hai.”

“Good then maybe I can too. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He turned off the light and left, all brusque, abrupt, cool, as if that moment of intimacy had never happened.

Intimacy? He was a stranger.

But he wasn’t a stranger. Already he was more familiar to me than many people I had known for years. I knew the terse, crisp way he spoke, the intensity masked by impassiveness. I had even seen through his menacing demeanor and detected a measure of humor and gentleness. Good God it was like bonding with Jack the Ripper.

No, Heero killed out of necessity, not for pleasure. He had shown me violence, but he had not been wantonly brutal.

In another minute I’d be putting a halo over his head. I smiled. Not bloody likely.

What on earth had possessed him to bring me cold milk? He hadn’t answered my question about his mother’s remedies. It was odd to think of Heero with a mother who taught him household tasks and manners. It was odd to think of him with a mother, period.

I didn’t crawl out from under a rock.

He was obviously accustomed to people thinking of him as something other than human.

And that’s exactly what I was doing.

Yet he was my companion now and had been my savior at San Andreas and guardian on that journey through the hills. In some way I was making contact with him.

And, yes, his presence was becoming almost comforting.

***************