Mission Accepted: Hiding
Relative disclaimers apply.

There was nothing special about the door with "702" felt-tip marked on it.

Relena, reading some account statements in the office behind this door, liked that just fine.

Booth's knew about this office, of course. So did the maintenance and cleaning crews. That was all right. The important thing was, the general public didn't know about this office. If they did, it might never be left alone.

Because this was her office in this building. Hers. No one else could lay a claim to it and she could do whatever she wanted to in it. Her office.

But some of the files were missing and others had been placed in other cabinets. Not a lot. Just enough for her to know that these actions had been deliberate.

And the more she looked over the statements, the more deliberate the actions seemed.

These transactions are ridiculous.

Her nearly ancient desktop printing calculator was out of paper. She'd used it quite often over the past few minutes. She could have remedied this by opening one of her desk drawers and taking out what was needed, but she didn't want to use the calculator any longer. What the money had been spent on had become more important than the amounts spent, and besides, the totals had been the same each time.

"Who authorized fifty thousand for non-branded transistors? And this one here. Two thousand for a magazine subscription. Goodness! Three million for a helicopter? And a private one at that. This is crazy."

And I'm sure that they are masking real expenditures. For all I know it's one transaction split three to five ways. Or maybe more, spread out throughout these sheets.

How could she prove that? The transactions had been made. They couldn't be recalled. They were history now.

Someone's been hard at work here. And in here.

She looked up. Her eyes narrowed.

Booth's.

"What do you mean, you haven't found them yet?"

"Listen. We know they're in here. But we don't know—"

"You stupid idiot. Find them! What are we paying you jerks for?"

"All right then, you fix the problem in Little H.Q."

"What problem? There can't be any problems!"

"Some of the lines are down. We can't communicate with anyone in the building and no one can get a hold of him."

"Dammit! What a stupid time for this to happen! The boss is going to have a FIT!"

"Nothing we can do, until the problem's fixed. Unless you want to go in there and—"

"Find them! Before all of us're promoted out of the building!"

"We're doing our best, sir."

In the office known as "P.A. Central" to the general public, Duo, wearing a Booth's Tech Team uniform in case he was disturbed, was at work cutting, splicing, re-wiring and re-routing.

Little H.Q.'s got more than a problem.

Unknown to most people, if one knew which controls to flick, push and press in this office, one could hear every electronic conversation that went on in the building, whether it was via telephone line or headset.

Over the past few minutes Duo had heard enough interesting conversations to be rich for life, should he decide to tell them to the media.

However, he was more concerned about what the secretaries in Booth's office were saying. And he was listening for whatever unknown cue five certain headset-wearers would give him to rush to the actual public address system.

The two men who were supposed to be behind the controls were on a munch break, courtesy of Duo. He had scribbled an official-looking memo on official Booth's stationary, signed it with even more of a scribble, slipped it under the door, knocked on the door, then found a nearby place to hide until the men had left the room.

Idiots.

".....we still can't get through."

"If that dumb broad can't get her boss, we don't get that contract."

"...And he said, 'I'm loyal!' And I said, 'Go fly a kite with you attached to it. Yeah! That was so funny!"

"I'm on it."

"Ooooo, you really mean it? Your spouse won't be back for ten whole hours? I'll be right over."

Duo shook his head slowly. Didn't these people at least have an inkling that these supposedly private conversations weren't private at all?

Of course not. Booth's would be out of business if this were known.

Duo scowled.

And here I am aiding and abetting.

"...Yeah. I'm on the third floor now, and nothing."

Duo's eyes widened. Did they really not know where Quatre and Heero were?

Either these guys are idiots or we really did get them off our tails. We weren't exactly wiggling them, but it did get close there, for a little while.

"Yes, we're trying to find a way to get them to wait five more minutes, to give the men more time to find them. But they're already suspicious. The dark one is, anyway. He gives the creeps. And—"

Duo scowled and "accidentally" snipped another set of wires.

"....wait a second...there. Alice, I just got cut off again! Ahah, it's almost as though someone somewhere didn't like what I was saying."

"Don't be stupid. That'd be against the law, to listen in on our conversations without telling us."

Duo cocked his head to one side and tuned the other conversations out, even the intermittent headset ones.

"...then I can say, 'Go to hell!' and not get penalized for it?"

"Now you're just being silly."

"...seven more minutes? What happened to five?"

Duo jerked.

That's too much now! Geeze! Time to move.

He hurried over to the P.A. system and activated it with one hand while holding his nose with the other.

"Testing. Five. Four. Three. Two. One."

Quatre smiled.

Good job, Duo.

Aloud he said: "It would appear that the P.A. system is operational once again."

Alice Sagen nodded and offered him a false smile.

"It would seem so."

Quatre ignored the smile.

"How much longer? I really didn't expect that it would take this long. I have other appointments to keep. Surely Mr. Booth understands that."

Heero looked at his watch.

"Yes, Mister Winner, we really should leave now."

Alice frowned.

"He really is coming. I don't want either of you to be disappointed."

Quatre shook his head.

"We really should be going. Maybe we should schedule our next meeting for a Saturday. Or perhaps a Sunday."

"Sir...he never comes in on those days."

Quatre put the magazine aside and stood up.

"He doesn't have to. Come along, protector mine," he half-teased.

"Are you sure that we can't convince you to stay?"

They're up to something, I know it!

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"I'm sure. I'm sorry."

Quatre bowed, then turned to Heero, who stood up slowly, his eyes scanning the room again as he did.

"Let's go, Mister Winner."

"Have a nice day, ladies. Please give him my regards."

They ignored the shocked and irritated looks on the secretaries' faces until they reached one of the elevators.

Quatre smothered his chuckles in a palm.

"We did it."

Heero smiled, but his eyes didn't.

"Did we? That Alice woman wasn't fully convinced."

"That's too bad....excuse me."

Quatre finally got his tickled humor under control.

"There. Now why don't we go and congratulate Duo?"

"I will if we make it out of here in one piece."

"No time like the present to find out if that'll happen."

"Then let's go."

Trowa knocked on door 702.

"Time's up. One of them has reached the fifth floor at least."

"Darnit. Well, don't just stand there, come in."

Trowa shook his head.

"There's no time. You'll have to bring out whatever you found."

"You can't change out there."

His eyebrows went up.

"Change?"

Relena chuckled.

"There's something that all of us should see, but we shouldn't do it in street clothing."

Curious, he opened the door.

Relena pointed to the two-seater couch, upon which six Booth's Building Maintenance Team outfits were casually flung.

Trowa's eyes widened.

Relena shrugged.

"I found them in my closet. We can take turns changing in the restroom. We have at least half an hour to spare, don't we?"

Thomas answered the phone in his office.

"Whestcott here."

"Sir, she's with Master Winner. She's perfectly safe."

Thomas heaved a sigh of relief and sat down.

"Thank goodness.....she ran out of here earlier on, and didn't even leave a note."

"I thought that I would tell you, so that you wouldn't worry too much."

"Thank you, but when will she be coming back?"

"Not for at least two more days. I can't tell you much more than that. This is a very special meeting they've gone to."

"Damn. Well...I'll try not to worry. Young Master Winner's reputation is perfect. He won't let anything happen to her. Thank you very much, Rashid."

"You're quite welcome."

As long as nothing happens to Master Winner himself, both men thought.

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