Mission Accepted:
Confrontation, 2
Relative disclaimers apply. And one more for
the violence and mild language.
Quatre was surrounded by darkness, but he could still feel things.
Like the pain that shot through his legs as he was planted onto the floor.
But there was no time to examine this pain, because Hawton was shoving and pushing him along the floor, then up flights of stairs, around corners and along hallways.
"Not so smart after all, are you? You fell right into my trap. What did you hope to accomplish? It's far too late to stop me anyway. I will soon own you. And Miss Bitch Darlian. Both of you will beg to bow before me! HAH!"
Quatre exhaled.
He is insane. But if I'm still in the warehouse - and I'm sure I am - why aren't I sneezing? This place, wherever I am, smells...clean.
Hawton laughed, rather eerily, Quatre thought.
He is right, if he's not stopped all is lost.
Hawton suddenly stopped shoving him.
Interesting. How is it that he knows his way in the darkness?
The thought of Hawton wandering all over the warehouse in the dark was eerie.
"Open the damned door."
Quatre hesitated, then his hand curled and reached for a doorknob that he couldn't yet see.
My fingerprints...damn it, why didn't I bring gloves?
"I said—"
A fist came down on the top of Quatre's head. This so surprised Quatre that he couldn't even gasp. He did buckle a little, though.
"Knocked some brains into you —"
Hawton shoved him aside. Already disoriented from the hit, Quatre became dizzy and nearly collapsed.
Is this what it's going to be like?
He heard the click of a door opening. Hawton grabbed him by the collar, yanked him inside, and closed the door behind him.
Even more disoriented now, Quatre rocked on his feet until Hawton pushed him onto the seat of a high-backed wooden chair.
Automatically, Quatre sat up straight and tried to make some sense of his surroundings.
It's dark in here as well. How can he see? Unless...
His eyes widened.
Has he memorized the entire layout of this warehouse...in the dark?
He jerked as warm breath brushed his ear.
"I could kill you now. It would be so easy! And you deserve it."
Hawton exhaled as though he were at the very tip of his patience.
"But there is some business that you and I must conduct first."
"Business?" Quatre whispered.
Slap!
Quatre felt another small whoosh of air, then a slap on his right cheek that left behind awful, tingling little stinging sensations.
"Who said that you were going to talk!"
Hawton slapped Quatre's other cheek. Quatre's tongue pressed too hard against his teeth and he tasted blood.
Why is he so angry with me?
"Shutup!"
Hawton punched the back of Quatre's head.
"Ouch!" Quatre involuntarily yelled.
Hawton slapped the top of his head.
"You deliberately kicked me out! You downsized me! Left me with nothing, and I'd served your family so freaking well! So what else could I do but punish you? Take your money? Your property?"
He punched an upper arm.
"And why not, your life?"
He proceeded to slap and punch. There seemed to be no end to it. Quatre wanted to die, if that would end this man's rage.
Heero. Duo. Trowa. Wufei. I'm so sorry. I failed.
He didn't know whether his eyes were open or closed. It didn't matter. He was losing consciousness, and welcomed it.
You can start again, Miss Relena. My Magnanacs will help you. They'll help all of you—
"Aieeee!"
Hawton was squeezing a pinch of arm. The pain and his own scream brought Quatre back.
Damn that hurt!
"No, this won't do. It's too easy and your precious friends would shoot me as soon as I left the building. No. There are other ways. On!"
Overhead lighting came on and Quatre gasped. Never mind that the lights were too bright; in the second before his eyes reflexively closed - which answered a question for himself - he'd seen a desk with a computer keyboard and four monitors on it.
Each of his friends was on a monitor, along with some white alphanumeric text that was scrolling down each screen.
Code. Some kind of code. But that doesn't matter now, does it? He's been on to us from day one. I'm sure of that now. The other setup like this was a trap. Created just for me. I should be honored. Heh. Even the clean hallway is part of it. He doesn't want me to get sick before he kills me.
"I knew what you boys were doing."
Quatre heard amusement in his voice.
"You thought that you were so...secretive. Ha! But I knew. Did you all forget? You can't do anything electronic and not leave a trail."
But that didn't mean that he knew just what had been done. A trail was one thing. Deciphering it was another. And perhaps he only knew that Booth's system had been hacked into - if he knew that much.
"UH!" Quatre choked out as Hawton slapped his chest, near his heart.
"If you wanted to know who I was, you could have simply dug into your own files."
Slap.
"Young, stupid idiot."
Quatre barely noticed the slap across his forehead, though his head jerked back after it.
Files? Files? What's he talking about?
Files...files....
Family? Downsized? Files?
What did they have in common?
I remember that Father once told me that he was going to cut some costs. But that was so long ago, just before the war started, and I don't remember what he did. Files, files - why is that so important?
SLAP.
"Pay attention!"
Quatre's head rocked, but he managed to look at Hawton's sunglasses -
- mirrored sunglasses -
and ask, "Files?"
"You don't remember? How dare you not remember?"
Quatre had been in one of his father's offices one afternoon, had looked up for some reason and had seen a tall man across the street putting on mirrored sunglasses as he looked at the building. Looking for one particular office.
This man had been angry...
Could it be?
"Files?" he asked again.
....was he angry at my father? Had he been fired? The files! Yes! I saw the files! I need to remember who had been fired. Ahem, downsized. It shouldn't be too hard, not very many people knew just where my father's "secret" office in that building was.
Briggs leaned in and slapped Quatre's face.
"Don't you remember yet?"
Only certain people knew. Like the security people. But this man wasn't a security guard, I would have identified him immediately. Hmmm, there was also the people who dealt with some of Father's money. Yes, that seems more likely. This man obviously knows where my family's money is - the money that's not hidden, unless he's found the secret places as well. Yes, Father had downsized those people, because he preferred to keep track of the money himself. I'll bet this is one of those people. But Father gave all of the people he fired a good severance package. So why...
"Maybe your precious friends know who I am."
Quatre jerked.
Oh, no...What's he planning?
"Your precious friends, who'd give their lives for you...it must be nice. Your death would disappoint them, make them think they failed. Won't that be sad?"
Quatre braved a squinting look at the monitors.
Good. Wufei's found Duo. What the -
Quatre involuntarily gasped as air whoosed over his left ear. He knew trouble was coming.
Hawton pressed the business end of a gun against his temple.
"You sure you don't remember who I am?"
Dear me...he's actually insulted that I don't remember. And why does he keep saying, "remember"? Have we met before?
Hawton exhaled.
"I was really beneath your lofty notice, wasn't I?"
He tapped Quatre's head with the gun.
Quatre winced.
"I....don't...remember."
"Crap! You remember! You kicked me out...you signed the paperwork! You didn't give a damn about me, my life, any of the people you put out in the cold! And when I confronted you...you ignored me! You said to talk to a lawyer! You, you little —"
Hawton drew back and slapped his face.
"Don't you know who you're talking to?!"
Quatre's eyes blazed and slitted.
I didn't fire you. But wait...oh no. Father! You said that the paperwork was fake! Why? What were you afraid of? Dammit, who was fired?
He imagined himself going over to the file cabinets in that particular office. Had that been the one he'd signed the paperwork in? It didn't matter. This seemed to be the only way to help himself remember.
Okay, I'm opening the top drawer...
"Alik Vasser."
The name came out of nowhere and quietly pushed itself through Quatre's vocal system, surprising both himself and Hawton, who quickly recovered and laughed triumphantly.
"You remember! I knew that a little motivation would be all that it would take."
Quatre didn't know about that. He was both glad and sad that he finally remembered. He shuddered as the memory came full and clear to him.
You were involved with security. Father saw how you handled money-seeking creditors and solicitors that came by and put you with the accountants as an experiment. You were good at first. But then you became hungry for power and threatened to either leave or spill company secrets to the media. You were fired; you vowed revenge. But, I think that you and Father made some kind of deal before you were fired. Somewhere along the line Father became suspicious of you, or was suddenly frightened, and broke the deal. Then he had me sign the paperwork, and you were out. I still don't understand. Father was so proud. What did you do, what could you have done, to unnerve him so much, and why didn't he tell me about it?
Hawton must have seen something in his face, because he was nodding his encouragement for Quatre to continue remembering.
Before he kills me.
Quatre exhaled.
Alik Vasser isn't your real name either. It's just the name on that particular paperwork. What did you and Father do?
Hawton tapped his temple.
"Do you know me now?"
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