"Fuck, I hate these things," Duo muttered, adjusting the altimeter as he brought the little Preventer shuttle-jet in for a smooth landing. Heero, beside him in the co-pilot seat, wisely said nothing as they taxied to a halt, concentrating instead on gathering his files and papers into his laptop case. Duo toggled the switches to shut down the engines, fingers moving automatically while his mind worked over what little information they already knew.
Heero can pilot on the way back, he decided rather arbitrarily as they exited the cockpit, in civilian clothing but with badges at the ready. Though international borders had become somewhat redundant since the formation of the World Nation, there were still certain restrictions on imports and exports; as Preventers they could skip customs clearance entirely.
Howard was waiting for them in Arrivals, lounging against a pillar and wearing yet another eye-wateringly loud Hawaiian shirt. Duo noticed that this one seemed to have pineapples and hummingbirds on a blue background, though heaven only knew how the two were related to each other. Flowers and hummingbirds, he could understand� He was still wearing those sunglasses too, even in the dim airport lounge; they were probably the same pair he'd worn during the war, and they'd been old and battered then.
"Hey, Howie." Duo gave a bored wave as they approached, jacket flung over one shoulder.
"Kid." Howard tipped his sunglasses down to look at him, then Heero. "Yuy. Let's go; I have a shipment to make this afternoon."
He led them to a car that looked more like a tank � a modified military jeep salvaged from the war � and they joined the queue to exit the airport after a brief altercation between Howard and Duo over who was going to drive. The elder man's insistence that he actually knew the way won out over Duo's protestations that he was a better driver, and the braided Agent ended up sprawled across the back seat while Heero took shotgun, sulking just slightly. After a few miles of queues and junctions, they joined the motorway and picked up some speed, and Duo sat up, hastily stuffing his braid down the back of his jacket as it threatened to tangle in their slipstream.
"Where are we going anyway, old man?"
"The docks near Cheapside." Howard indicated right and pulled into the fast lane, picking up the speed to seventy-five. "We brought the barge over, it's cheaper that way."
"Cool." Duo belatedly found the seatbelt and fastened himself in. "So what've you got for us that's so sensitive you can't talk on the phone?"
"Eh, some of my boys had a bit of a run-in with the law out near L3 a coupla weeks back, and they found a few things they didn't like the look of, if you know what I mean." Howard pulled onto the exit sliproad, sighing heavily as they rolled to a near-halt behind several huge articulated lorries.
Duo groaned. "Don't tell me � fights?"
"Nah." Howard snickered, glancing to the mirror, then leaning on the horn for a moment as the lights changed to green and nothing happened. "Damn roadies� only trouble with tryin' to get to the docks, so's everyone else."
"So I see," Heero muttered wryly, eyeing the speedometer as Howard stomped on the accelerator. "Did you teach Duo to drive?"
"Say what?" Howard peered at him, only turning his attention back to the road when they almost veered into the path of another enormous juggernaut.
"Hey," Duo protested, somewhat stung. "I could drive before I was six! And I'm better than him any day," he added, jerking a thumb toward Howard. "You drive like an old woman, Howie."
"Brat," Howard muttered, squinting into the rear-view mirror. "Joe and Henrik weren't fighting anyhow."
"Henrik? That'll be a first." Duo smacked Howard lightly over the head with complete disregard for the fact that he was driving, causing them to veer again as the older man turned to glare at his prot�g�.
"There was a bit of a� dispute over the ownership of an abandoned shuttle � dead in space, but the damn pigs refused to recognise right of salvage." Howard glanced abruptly across as Heero cleared his throat, and paled slightly. "Uh, saving your presence, of course, guys�"
Duo noted with amusement that Heero was actually grinning, a little, and suppressed the urge to reach across and ruffle his partner's messy hair. He could even imagine how it would feel beneath his fingers, soft and� Fuck.
"So what's this got to do with us?" he asked hastily, trying to distract himself.
"It was an Ibsen shuttle � life support malfunction, drifting near the wreckage belt for at least a month. Joe and Henrik towed it back to L3, but the authorities impounded it. The guys were at the courthouse trying to argue when a load of Ibsen stevs turned up and took possession, just like that, and no one said a fucking word." Howard seemed as angry as he ever got, fury underlacing his easy-going tones. "Not a copper for our trouble, and the damn fool of a bureaucrat trying to insist Ibsen had rights to it."
Duo exchanged a meaningful glance with his partner. Heero knew as well as he did the laws that any commercial space wreck had to be claimed by its parent company or owner within two weeks or it was open for salvage. The Sweepers were far too thorough and professional an organisation to go after illegal salvage material; they had computerised systems to track wrecks and claims. For officials to hand salvageable material back to Ibsen straight off the bat smacked of corruption.
"Did Joe and Henrik happen to get a glance at the cargo?" Duo asked thoughtfully; Ibsen must have wanted that shuttle very badly�
"I don't actually know; you guys can ask them when we get there." Howard thumped on the horn as a blue-and-white van accelerated around the jeep, cutting them off just as they were about to turn right. "Damn it!"
Duo felt a prickle of ice along his nerves; Heero had suddenly sat up ramrod-straight in his seat, staring ahead at the van as it speeded away. "Duo!"
"What?" Duo looked around wildly, then realised with a flash of insight what had caught his partner's attention. The colours on the van � blue and white � the Ibsen Shipping logo emblazoned on its side. "They don't operate in England, do they�?"
"No." Heero gripped the door frame as though wishing he could jump from the vehicle and sprint after the truck. "No clients here either� Follow them!"
"You what?!" Howard gave Heero an incredulous stare, then shook his head.
"Follow them!" Duo yelled urgently; he could see the van making a turn down a tree-lined avenue in the distance. "Get a fucking move on, Howard!"
"Man." Howard stamped on the accelerator, the jeep jerking forwards with a clash of gears that made all three men wince. "I feel like I'm in a bad cop movie," the mechanic complained, but nevertheless sped after the Ibsen van, skidding into a turn down the same street. Duo pulled himself into a kneeling position on the back seat, hanging tightly onto Howard's headrest and staring over the older man's head. Automatically he reached back into the lining of his jacket, pulling his gun loose of its holster; he didn't have to look to know that Heero was doing the same.
The blue and white van was just making another turn, into what seemed to be a residential street, the speed limits forcing it to slow down. Duo tapped on Howard's left shoulder, shouting into the wind. "Follow, but slow down � don't let 'em know!"
"You think I don't know how to run a chase?!" Howard yelled back, the jeep's slipstream whipping his words from his mouth. They followed the van into the clearly upmarket street, just in time to see it disappearing down another narrow side road in the distance. When they made this turn, though, tyres screeching as Howard took the corner at several miles per hour over the speed limit, there was no sign of their quarry.
"Damn." Duo collapsed into the back seat with a sigh, staring around at the high walls and expensive-looking gateways that afforded minute glimpses of winding driveways and mansion-like properties hidden among trees. The road was long and straight, with no side turnings until a pedestrian crossing was reached in the distance. Howard braked sharply, slowing the jeep abruptly as Heero's voice rang out.
"There!" Duo's head whipped around, eyes focusing on the heavy metal security gate his partner was pointing to� the gate that was even now sliding back into place, blocking their view of anything that lay beyond.
"You think that was them?" Duo stood in his seat, trying to get a glimpse of the house beyond the high wall, and ended up with nothing but a rather expansive panorama of tiled roof.
"Has to be." Heero was squinting back over their shoulders towards the end of the road, trying to decipher the sign. "No other vehicles turned down here, and there's nowhere else they could have gone." He bent forward, pulling a datareader from his computer case and tapping something into it quickly. "112 Lansdown Place."
"Easy enough to check up on that later." Duo nodded, collapsing back into his seat. "OK, old man, we're done here. Let's go talk to Joe and Henrik."
Howard grumbled about being treated like a goddamn taxi driver all the way to the docks.
"Hey, Kid!" Joe and Henrik were both tall, burly men; typical spacers still dressed in tanktops and sweatpants despite the chill rain that had settled over London as Howard's jeep pulled up to the dock. They clapped Duo on the shoulder as he jumped down to the tarmac, giving curious looks to Heero, who had only met the Sweepers briefly during the wars.
"Oh yeah." Duo scratched the back of his head, lifting his braid away from his neck and digging his fingers into his hair, making a face of disgust at its dampness. "Guys, this is my partner, Agent Heero Yuy."
"You officially here then, Kid?" Joe, the taller of the two, shook his shaggy blond head in mock sorrow, and Duo grinned.
"Yeah, technically, but knowing Howie he's probably already hid the contraband."
"You wish, Duo." Howard stuffed the keys of the jeep in one pocket and led the way across the gangplank onto the metal decks of the barge. "Let's get out of this weather."
Duo followed his old mentor down below decks to what passed for Howard's office on board ship. It was actually almost closer to a lounge room, with comfortable mismatched furniture and a large television screen and games console as well as computers and banks of vid-screens.
"So." Duo flopped down onto a beanbag while Heero took a seat beside him in a metal desk chair. "Give us the whole story, guys."
The two burly mechanics exchanged a glance, and it seemed that Henrik had been nominated to tell the story, because it was he who began.
"Well, we were out sweeping the wreckage belt between L2 and L3 last month, and we found a drifter � an Ibsen shuttle, old C8320 model, they're always having life support problems. There were no survivors, and we checked the registry; it'd been declared free salvage a couple of weeks before that, so we towed her in to L3, got the coroner in, all the usual. I was taking an inventory for the old guy here�" Howard rolled his eyes in exasperation, pushing his sunglasses up his nose, and Joe took over from his shorter partner.
"I was doin' the paperwork down at the Admin offices; I filled out all the forms in fuckin' triplicate for 'em and then went out to get lunch while I waited. 'Rik called me about an hour after that."
"I was in the hold when I heard noises in the cockpit and gangways." Henrik scowled in remembrance. "I thought it was the coronary team back again or something, but some coppers came down to the hold and told me to clear out, because the wreck had been claimed by its owners. There were a coupla suits with 'em, and some o' those guys in the blue shirts, like the delivery boys."
"Ibsen Shipping employees?" Heero had his datapad out and was recording the informal interview rather than taking notes. Duo leaned back in the beanbag chair as Henrik nodded agreement, crossing his legs and thinking.
"What'ja do then?"
"They looked like they mighta tossed me out of there, so I went," Henrik admitted somewhat shamefacedly. "I called Joe and took off to Admin, but the bastards kept insisting Ibsen had rights."
"They had the balls to look me in the face and�" Joe grumbled, crossing his arms and hunching down in his seat. "Not even comp for towin'er back for fuck's sake, just 'oi! Give it back!'"
Duo snorted. "Bastards," he agreed amiably. "A C8320? What was she carrying that they wanted back so badly?"
Henrik shrugged. "Load of plain old plastic shipping crates. I only got a peek in one before they 'escorted' me out," he barked out an unamused laugh. "Looked like a load of old rifle stocks from the war � salvage scrap, I'd have said, if it didn't smell of new grease."
"Shit." Duo started as he and Heero spoke in unison, then laughed, leaving the floor to his partner.
"Weapons?" Heero set the datapad on the magazine-strewn coffee table. "How many crates in the hold?"
Henrik stared at him blankly, looking as though he were reckoning up the numbers in his head. "Um, stacks of eight so� hundred-twenty-eight maybe?"
"Great." Heero gave Duo a speaking glance that� didn't. Duo straightened, wondering what his partner wanted.
"Uh, can you give us the names of the people you spoke to at Admin?"
Joe and Henrik exchanged looks again. "There was the claims clerk first, then that bastard manager came along�"
"Anderson," Henrik noted in a rather clipped voice that spoke volumes. "At the L3-CP2811 spaceport centre."
"That's the guy." Joe tugged on his hair in frustration, a habit Duo recognised with amusement. "Do us a favour and rough him over a bit if you're ever up there?"
"He's not here." Duo peered once more around the small caf�-restaurant for good measure, then shrugged and turned to his partner.
Heero was looking at his watch. "We're early. Time difference. Let's get a table."
"Huh? Oh yeah." Duo gave himself a mental kick in the head for forgetting that factor in their travels. Mostly he had a very accurate internal clock, but in situations like this all it did was make jet lag worse. During the war they'd all had to rely on watches for local time, they'd been moving around so much. It was easier out in space, where there was no sunrise or sunset to conflict with the body's own coping mechanism.
A slight girl in a neat black waitress uniform hurried towards them from the restaurant, a tray clutched in her arms and her eyes worried behind tiny silver-framed glasses. "How can I help you, Agents?" she asked breathlessly. "Is there a problem?"
"Oh, no!" Duo gave her his best reassuring grin, suddenly realising what it looked like with the two of them standing there in uniform jackets. "We're meeting someone for lunch � we'd like a table for four, please."
"Oh, of course!" The waitress gave them a relieved smile. "If you'll follow me?" As she turned her back, Duo saw that her dark hair was plaited into a long tail much like his own, reaching to the small of her back. He repressed a smirk and followed the girl � she couldn't be more than eighteen � to a round table over on one side of the restaurant. It was set for four and Duo eyed the profusion of forks with resignation; fancy food was the price of eating out with Quatre, and he didn't think he'd ever be comfortable with it. Some of his earliest memories were of digging through dumpsters behind fast food restaurants; the streets had given him an iron constitution when it came to food, and he preferred simplicity, not to mention names he could actually pronounce.
He took a seat where he could see most of the rest of the room, and was unsurprised when Heero chose to sit next to him, with his back to the wall. Some habits were hard to break, and not worth it when they had to be alert anyway.
"Here are your menus." The girl handed out two silver-embossed black folders and pulled a notepad out of her pocket. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
"I'll have hot chocolate, please." Normally, Duo would have ordered coffee, but the rain outside had been steadily worsening, and combined with the chill in the air it had been rather unpleasant.
"Green tea, please," was all Heero said when the girl looked to him. She nodded and scribbled something on her pad.
"I'll get those for you right now."
"Thanks." Duo didn't bother to watch her walk off. He folded his arms on the table and shivered, all too aware of the cold damp weight of his hair against his back. "They're smuggling weapons out to the colonies."
Heero glanced at him, then returned to staring out of the plate-glass windows at the rain puddling on the paving stones. The bistro tables outside had been gathered into stacks beneath the dark awning, waiting out the weather; Duo thought it might have been nice to sit outside on a sunny day, watching the river go by and sipping cold drinks. He might consider dragging Hilde back here the next time their weekends off coincided; there were probably all sorts of kooky little shops hiding in the narrow back streets of the old city. Maybe some of the others might like to come along as well�
"We're gonna have to get out there sooner or later," he mused, watching the overhead halogen lights reflect off the raindrops caught in his partner's spiky hair.
"Une's already sent orders to the Colony offices to be on the alert." Heero flicked his eyes toward the door as it opened to admit two new patrons, but relaxed as another waitress hurried to escort the man and woman to a table on the other side of the room.
"Huh." Duo considered, then shook his head. "Hopefully, this is just something small � a few idiots on L2 pissed off at the government for being too slow with the reconstruction or something. But�"
"Ibsen's a fairly small company." Heero straightened in his seat as a discreet chime announced the door opening, and Duo turned his head to see Quatre making his way through the room towards them, smile almost glowing. Behind him, Trowa's greater height was clearly visible, the sweep of his hair contrasting with the dark suit he wore.
"Quatre!" Duo stood up and yanked his blond friend into an unceremonious hug of greeting. Once, while they'd still had the Gundams, they had been the same height, but now at twenty-one Quatre outstripped him by several inches, as did Heero and Wu Fei. Duo had learned to live with his lack of height; it was just one more product of his childhood, and he had better things to be bitter about. Still, it wore on his neck after a while, especially now that Trowa topped six feet.
"Duo, Heero!" Quatre pulled away, seating himself at the table and reaching across to clasp the Japanese man's shoulder for a moment. Trowa merely nodded to them both, taking the remaining seat and obviously on the alert in his position as his lover's bodyguard. "How have you been?" Quatre looked around as the braided waitress appeared and smiled brilliantly as she set steaming cups before Heero and Duo, then handed menus to the new arrivals. "Two Turkish coffees, please."
"Of course, sir." The waitress hurried back off to the kitchen and Duo grinned at his friends.
"We're OK. Did Heero tell you about the little exploding warehouse incident?"
"What?" Quatre gaped at him. "You blew up a warehouse, Duo?!"
"Hey!" Duo glared as Quatre dissolved into laughter. Even Heero and Trowa were grinning. "Oh, very funny, Q! I take it you told him, then." He elbowed Heero none too gently and received a glare for his trouble.
"Of course." There was just a hint of reproval in Trowa's voice, and Duo sighed.
"Heh, whatever. You guys OK, then?"
"Just fine." Quatre still looked a little amused, but Duo decided to forgo being annoyed in favour of sipping at his hot chocolate as the waitress brought over two little cups of coffee for the other two. "I have another new niece, and Amiyah and Leah are both engaged. I seem to spend half my life at weddings and betrothals."
"That's hardly surprising." Heero glanced up at the waitress, who was hovering just out of earshot with her notepad ready. "The salmon, please."
Quatre and Trowa exchanged minute nods. "We'll have the seafood linguine, please." Duo quirked a grin at that; the pair of them were just so couply it was funny.
"I'll have steak and a salad." Duo closed the menu, running an appreciative finger over the smooth black leather of the binding, and handed it back to the waitress.
"The business is doing well," Quatre continued as the girl left with their orders. "We're just about to head back out to the colonies, actually. We're going to visit Cathy at the circus tomorrow, then back to L4 in time for the board meeting."
"I bet you wish you could skip that." Duo grinned as Quatre rolled his eyes.
"You have no idea. I swear I don't know how some of them got elected; they're completely incompetent. At least Trowa makes sure we have to take breaks." The blond businessman shot a grateful look to his lover, who returned it with a slight smirk before explaining to Duo and Heero.
"I call security inspections every time the guards change shift."
"Sweep the room?" Heero was nodding in amused approval.
"And pat down the more obstructive ones," Trowa deadpanned. Duo laughed.
"Well, at least it's not all paperwork. Bet you five credits Cathy ropes you into performing again tomorrow."
"On a sure thing?" Quatre smiled and shook his head as Trowa rolled his eyes. "I won't let you take my money, Duo."
"Like you could stop me if I wanted to," Duo shot back in amusement, wriggling his fingers suggestively.
"No stealing from your friends, Duo." Heero glared at him. "Not even to prove you can."
"I wasn't actually going to!" Duo flung his hands in the air. "Christ, Heero, get a sense of humour!" The banter was more playful than serious between them, but Quatre and Trowa still exchanged mildly concerned glances at the edge of bitterness in Duo's tone.
"So what exactly did you want to see us about?" Quatre asked, taking a sip of coffee and setting the tiny cup back on its saucer with a gentle chime of crockery. "Heero mentioned something about Ibsen Shipping, that you were working on a case involving them�"
"We are." Duo sighed. "Look, Q, when we first got this case it was fairly simple � a few instances of smuggling � but it's getting worse. Everything we find out�" he glanced to Heero. "I don't think we can give you the details, but this is a serious problem now � top priority from Une." Heero nodded, pulling his datapad from his jacket pocket and flipping the screen open.
"So, you need me to tell you about Ibsen?" Quatre frowned thoughtfully. "They're a small company � or they used to be, anyway. We used to contract with them to run building materials out to L5 a few years back, but when we bought out Arieva we started using them instead. That was�" he glanced to his lover.
"Two years back," Trowa supplied laconically. "Autumn 198."
"Thank you." Quatre returned his eyes to Duo and Heero. "What exactly do you need to know?"
"You said they used to be a small company?"
"Oh yes � their original owner died during the war, and one of his distant relatives inherited the company. It stayed small for a while, but they've been growing now for several years. Particularly in the last two years � they secured one of the government contracts to run supplies to the Colonies, L2 I think it was, and those are all very lucrative."
"The original owner � that would be Thomas Ibsen?" Heero consulted a file on his pad. "And the new owner � and CEO � is Andrew Read?"
"Yes � he's not all that great a businessman, but he's been doing pretty well so far." Quatre nodded.
"Does he have any ties to other companies or organisations?" Duo asked intently.
"No � well, I think he's a member of the Charities Commission." Quatre narrowed his eyes. "This really is serious, isn't it?"
"You could say that." Duo and Heero exchanged glances. "Is there any gossip about the company doing the rounds? Anything they've been doing differently lately?"
"Nothing much." The blond shook his head. "Just the usual envy over the government contracts � they really were very lucky to get those, they're still a pretty small company and before that they tended to deal mostly on Earth."
"An unexpected run of luck?" Heero questioned without looking up from his note-taking.
"That's pretty much it." Quatre shrugged. "I can't really say anything more; it's been a long time since we dealt with them, and I never met the man in person."
"OK." Duo shrugged. "You think that's enough, Heero?"
"It'll have to be." Heero shut down his pad and slid it back into his pocket, picking up his teacup.
They made small talk until the waitress brought their meals over; Quatre asked after Wu Fei and Sally, and Trowa Duo's bike, that still languished in the garage in disrepair.
Heero snorted at that, giving Duo a wry grin. "More like 'pieces'."
"Hey, I have been working on it, ya know," Duo protested. "I'm just waiting on some parts from Howard!"
"I don't know why you just don't buy a new bike," Quatre observed, amused.
"No way." Duo chomped down violently on a bite of steak. "I happen to like fixing things, Q, and there's no way I could afford a vintage FXR3 off the bat anyway. I can make it faster and cooler my way."
"'Cooler' being such an important factor," Heero deadpanned, carefully forking the bones out of his fish.
"It is," Duo insisted, and rather to his surprise, Trowa came to his rescue, nodding agreement. He quirked a brow at the quiet man and was rewarded with a slight smile.
"Image is important," Trowa stated blandly, shooting a sidelong glance at Quatre, who blushed furiously and lifted his face toward the ceiling as his lover laughed softly.
"What?" Duo looked between the two of them in amusement, but gave up on it, as neither seemed willing to answer; it was obviously a private joke. "Whatever. Did you hear Fei actually sold his bike?"
"Really?" Quatre grabbed at the conversational lifeline deftly, changing the subject with ease. "I thought he was quite attached to it � almost as much as you were. And I know Sally said once she quite liked riding to work that way."
Duo shook his head in mock sorrow. "He bought a car � must've gone soft in his old age or something."
"I don't think that's it." Duo narrowed his eyes at his partner; he could almost hear the tiny thread of amusement hiding behind Heero's words.
"What do you know, Yuy? Spill," he demanded, forgetting his meal and folding his arms defiantly.
"I should probably wait for them to tell you," Heero evaded, and Duo noticed from the corner of his eye that Quatre sat up straight in his chair at those words, jaw dropping.
"You're gonna tell me now," Duo countered, putting on his most stubborn expression. "You're withholding gossip, Heero, and I'm not leaving here until you tell me what you know."
"Fine, you can pick up the tab then." Heero glared a little at him, then relented. "Sally's pregnant. That's why she's doing Med duty full time instead of fieldwork."
Duo felt his own jaw drop slightly. "No shit?" Heero nodded slightly, applying himself diligently to herbed potatoes and roasted vegetables. "Wow!" He felt a happy grin break across his face. "So that's why Chang showed up with paint in his hair Saturday! Wow!"
"Did he actually tell you?" Trowa asked curiously. Duo saw that he was wearing a slightly proud expression that matched the others at the table � even his own. It was almost as though, he thought wryly, their fellow pilot's 'accomplishment' reflected onto all of them.
"No." Heero regarded Duo quizzically. "It's obvious, if you look at Sally � she was nauseous in the mornings for a while, and�" he trailed off, blushing slightly. Duo regarded his partner in astonishment; it was a sight he'd very rarely seen. Heero Yuy was always the epitome of self-possessed, and the few times he'd lost that control� Duo felt his own face heating and hastily turned back to his salad with a shrug. Those memories weren't anything he wanted to pull out and examine in public, much less with Heero right next to him. Time for a distraction�
"Perhaps they want to wait and make an announcement," Quatre was saying worriedly. "Maybe we shouldn't let on that we know yet�"
"Are you kidding?" It came out of Duo's mouth without his having to really think about it, another byproduct of the masks he'd worn for easily half his life. "There is no way I'm passing up an opportunity like this! I can see the expression on Wu Fei's face already � this is gonna be great!"