The Game

They were hours from any form of civilization, trudging through the backwoods of some national reserve.  No electricity, no heat, no food…unless you counted those damned ration bars in his pack.  Glancing up at the forest canopy, he could see streaks of red and orange.  Dusk had come and night would soon follow.  The ‘no heat’ bit could prove to be a problem if they didn’t wrap this up before too long.

But Quatre had to admit that the ‘no civilization’ aspect was nice too: dressed head to toe in Preventers-issued camouflaged fatigues, high-end paintball gun resting in the crook of his arm, he felt more comfortable than he did in some of his three-piece suits. 

The looks he’d gotten from the new officer class were priceless when Une had said his name at the briefing before the teams had split and gone into the forest.  The rookies had all expected Heero and Wufei, as both men had been instructors during their training at some point and time; some of them recognized Trowa by relation through the other two.  Duo, after he’d come back from his language training*, had simply become ‘that guy that does everything’ around Head Quarters, from interpretation to code-breaking to the end-term paintball game.

But him?  Une had consistently invited him to join the others on the officer’s Red Team, but often enough his schedule of meetings and appointments and conferences didn’t allow for a quick foray into the ‘back-country’ to wade hip-deep in pools of swamp water, or climb trees to take a few pot shots at the rookies.

He chuckled and Trowa looked up.  “What is it?”

Quatre shook his head, still smirking.  “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing in particular,” he said, taking a seat on the forest floor.  Both he and Trowa were hidden from sight by underbrush, their backs pressed up against a few of the larger trees.  The nearest member of the Blue Team was still well over 30 meters off – between the two of them, they would’ve known if there were any closer.  “Hey, random question though.”

“Shoot.”

“Don’t you all ever get bored with always beating the new class?”

Trowa shrugged, resting his own gun across his legs.  “Not really.  Sometimes they come up with some good strategies.  It’s just that we’re better at thinking on our feet.  That’s how we were trained – that even the best-laid plans can go very quickly out the window.”  Rubbing his hands over his eyes, he wiped away some of the sweat and smeared the black stripes on his cheekbones.  “But it’s a good lesson to learn.”

“So this is still part of the training.”

“None of the classes has ever beaten us.  So yes.  They need to learn that it only takes four or five guys to waste your entire team.”  He chuckled.  “Hell, the class right after us had some decent heads on their shoulders and actually got us down to just Duo.  He still fulfilled the ‘objective.’  Jumped down from one of the trees, ran straight at them, broke the line, and hit the button before they even knew what the fuck had happened.”

Quatre chuckled and shook his head.  He knew full well that Duo was a force to be reckoned with when the odds were against him.  “So you still won,” he grinned.

Trowa laughed too then, softly. “Well, they of course riddled him with blue pellets right after he did.  But we still fulfilled the mission Une put us on.  He had little circle bruises all over him after that one.  Being shot point-blank by one of these things isn’t fun.  They may just be loaded with paint, but they still hurt.”

“Where’s the composer?” Wufei’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie, interrupting their conversation and they both moved to stand.  The team had maintained radio silence for the past two hours, getting in position and keeping both those in charge of the game – and any cheating rookies – dumb to their plans.  Before either of them could respond with the ‘ready,’ the machines spoke again.

“The Flute and Violin are still engaged in a duet, and so are somewhat occupied,” Duo shot back.

Trowa sighed and pulled the machine from where it hung at his hip.  “This is an open line you assholes,” Trowa replied.  “Be happy I’m in another sector so you don’t suffer any friendly fire.  But now I can’t guarantee that I’ll warn you when we reach the ‘crescendo’ and you’re in my way.”

Quatre swore he heard Duo chuckle over the line when he responded, “Should you really be discussing you two’s sexual exploits with me?”

“Fuck you.”

“Can we stop?” Heero asked, apparently having stolen his walkie-talkie back from Duo.  Quatre thought he sounded rather perturbed.  “This is getting ridiculous.  And we are supposed to win, remember?”

“Back to business?” Wufei asked.

“Yes.”

“Damn,” Quatre piped up beside Trowa.  The taller man shot a bemused look and he grinned.  “Let it be known that Heero Yuy has no patience for bad innuendo.”

“No, none at all.  Or at least,” he added, “not when he’s intent on blowing holes in the last remnants of the rookies’ egos.”

With another muted laugh, Quatre hefted the gun back up into his arms and drummed his fingers on the grip.  They were heavier than standard paintball guns and were modeled after the Preventers’ own arsenal.  As he followed Trowa deeper into the woods and closer to their target, he wondered idly if he hadn’t inadvertently helped to purchase them.

The mission Une had given them in their own briefing was to take out the Blue Team’s base.  Apparently it was the usual orders because in the corner of his eye, he’d caught Duo suppress a sigh.  A game of capture the flag, they’d thought, and little else.

But they had mixed the equation up a bit.  The class that comprised Blue Team had about thirty officers-in-training.  Against the five of them.  The only redeeming thing about the situation was that the other team was listed as the ‘good guys,’ and as such was not supposed to shoot-to-kill: defensive maneuvers only.  Red Team, however…

Red Team could blow as many they wanted out of the water.

Night came quickly in the forest, the trees shielding them from the last of the sun’s rays as it slid below the horizon.  The sweat on the back of his neck chilled and Quatre shivered, quickly tuning his mind away from the physical sensations that didn’t directly affect their objective.  He’d been trained to shut out that part of his brain, they all had.  If it didn’t keep you one step ahead, or at the very least alive, then disregard it.

From the corner of his eye he saw a shadow slip into formation beside him and Trowa and knew there was another pair somewhere on his other side.  They kept a fair distance apart – close enough to return cover fire, but far enough to get out of the way in a hurry if need be.  He saw Trowa touch his hip and knew they’d gone silent again, the faint green light from his walkie-talkie disappearing.  They passed silently through a high-grassed meadow and just as they entered the other base’s defined perimeter, Blue Team engaged their search lights. 

Quatre winced and thought he heard Trowa sigh as they dropped to the ground.  That limited their movement: stop-start maneuvers were never as fluid, never as effective, but it became apparent as the lights passed over their ducked heads that it was necessary. 

When darkness covered them again, they moved, quicker now that their speed would be cut in half.  As he and Trowa passed a standing guard to their left, he watched…Duo, he thought, glide in behind the young man like a ghost and throw an arm around his neck in a choke hold.  He whispered something in the man’s ear, patted his shoulder almost apologetically, and the man quickly lay down, disappearing from sight in the underbrush as Duo reentered formation. 

On the border of the clearing that would leave them exposed, they waited until the lights passed over them…and then in darkness opened fire. 

They wouldn’t have a lot of time, they knew, and were using the darkness to their advantage.  It became quite apparent that Blue Team hadn’t expected to be snuck up on and besieged, shouted orders conflicting with others.  But then…when your enemy was near-invisible, it was hard to pinpoint just from where you were being hit.

Quatre bolted and fell in step with Duo, who’d already shouldered his weapon and pulled they’re real objective from his pack.  The blond covered them, taking out several Blues as they darted around the back of the compound.  He could hear most of the gunfire being drawn by the other three towards the front and sides as he and Duo slipped inside.  Pulling his ‘hand gun’ from his hip, he took out the few opponents they ran into as they wound their way further into the complex.  The ‘bomb’ was wired and set before Duo even tossed it under the table.  They riddled the room’s occupants with red paint and left them there before darting through the building, breaking a few of the lines from behind. 

“Red Team, bail out!”  Duo shouted behind him and he saw in the darkness the other three dart from behind cover and run, returning fire only when needed.  A group from Blue followed them across the encampment towards the meadow.  Running out of available cover, they pivoted to return fire—

“Cease fire!” came the order over the wired sound system.  Both teams obeyed on instinct, some forcibly pulling their hand from the trigger just to be sure.  Calmer, Une’s voice returned, “Would you mind engaging the border lights, please?”

After a moment, white fluorescents strapped to various trees or mounted on the ground flickered to life, giving a surreal glow to the entire scene.  Split down the center of the meadow, Quatre looked down the line to find his team on one side, the new officers all within glowing boundary.  Duo whooped and threw an arm around Heero’s shoulder, laughing and shouting, “We’re alive!  We made it out alive!”

Une appeared then, her own fatigues rolled down and tied around her hips, followed closely behind by various other members of the senior officer core.  “Duo’s right – Red Team made it out alive.  Unfortunately,” she said, turning to the Blue Team, “you are not.  You and your base have all become a crater here in the woods, thanks to a timed detonation device.”  The rookies stared agape.  A few looked sick.  Turning back to the Red Team, a smile slowly forming on her face, Une asked, “Can I ask who planted and detonated the charge?”

The members of Red Team glanced around at each other for a moment before Duo and Quatre raised their hands.  A murmur went through the other team and Quatre thought he heard a few expletives tossed in for good measure.  “Just to add insult to injury,” Heero told them, gesturing to both of his teammates, “neither of them are officers.”

Une smiled then.  “Now how is that?” she asked, her voice betraying her amusement.  “How is it possible that two men without any previous officer training were able to not only infiltrate your base, but successfully destroy it, and everyone and everything within a 10 meter radius?”  When no one offered an explanation, she continued.  “You followed the rules, didn’t you?  You followed procedure and strategy and didn’t deviate from it.  You allowed the members of the other team to become the sole targets without thinking about the why.  As an officer you must always think of the ‘why.’” 

After a moment she straightened, her professional mask back in place.  “We’ll discuss this further at your debriefing.  But for now, we’ll call it a night.  Congratulations to Red Team and your…sixth successive win in a row.”  Quatre heard a few of the others chuckle.  Une fought a smile and turned back to the rookies.  “Pack up and be back at the rendezvous point by 2200 hours.”  And then she was gone, disappearing into the darkness.

With a sigh, Quatre rubbed the back of his neck and turned to fall into stride beside the others when a young man stepped forward.  “Excuse me, Sir?”

He shook his head.  “I’m not a ‘Sir.’  Quatre is fine.”

The rookie nodded but pushed ahead.  “Can I ask…where did you learn to shoot like this?”  He tapped a bright blue spatter mark on his fatigues that rested above his heart.

“That was long-range, too,” Heero cut in quickly before turning back to his conversation with Trowa. 

Quatre thought he’d seen approval in those blue eyes.  He smiled and turned back to the man in front of him.  “In all honesty,” he said with a shrug.  “I can’t tell you that.”  His smile shifted into something a bit more predatory and the other man cocked his head to the side, confused.  “It’s classified.”

It took a moment for the young man to register the response.  He opened his mouth to say more, his eyes going wide, but Quatre turned away to rejoin the rest of the Red Team with the sense that there was going to be an extra element to the class’s debriefing later.

It wasn’t an evasion really, just the truth.  The Earth Sphere didn’t need to know that Quatre Winner, sole male heir of the Winner Corporation, one of the largest pacifist organizations – and one of the largest financial supporters of the Preventers – was once himself a weapon of mass destruction.

After all…it was never the Gundams that were really dangerous, but those who piloted them.

* I have this thing with Duo becoming an interpreter.  I don’t know why; it just kinda stuck.