"Remarkable."
"What do you see?"
Wufei shivered from the cold, but crawled a little forward, to shine even deeper with his flashlight. "I don't think it was a natural trigger. Something must've been done to make sure that every unwanted visitor would fall through."
"You mean, a trap?" Heero kept his hands firmly on the line. They were all secured together: Wufei, the lightest, examining the gaping hole that Duo had fallen through; Heero behind him, carrying the backpack with supplies, and the two sherpas at the end, securing the line.
"It's a deep crevasse," Wufei ignored Heero's question for now, "but I think we can descend. It's going to be a tight fit, it looks narrower down there."
"Rapelling?"
"Yes. We can't anchor ourselves in this ice, even though it seemed to have stabilized now. I doubt it would carry all our weight."
"Do the sherpas need to come?" Heero asked.
"I wish you would've thought to take a few with you," Wufei answered. He didn't say out loud that the whole accident could've been prevented, but he was convinced that the sherpas were a great help; they were mountain people, and knew exactly how to move and how to (re)act. Heero didn't answer to that comment and tugged at the rope, eliciting an annoyed grunt from Wufei, getting dragged over the ice.
"I want to descend as soon as possible," Heero said. He pointed at his own backpack. "If we need more space, we can shoot holes through the ice, or blow it up. I have C-4 with me."
"Try to use your common sense, Yuy." Wufei took the time to instruct the sherpas before talking to his friend again. "We don't know what an explosion would do to the mountain range, and we don't want an entire mountain to come crashing down on us, do we? Besides, if Maxwell is down there, and he is, he's going to get a few tons of ice on top of him. That would defy the nature of our rescue, don't you think?"
"Stop patronizing me," Heero snarled.
"Then stop being unrealistic and start using your brain!" The last word echoed loudly and the two sherpas looked up in surprise, not recognizing the sound at all. Wufei motioned at them to continue and heaved a sigh.
"You're right. I'm sorry." Heero raked his hand through his hair. Usually Duo would tousle the strands… "I have to focus. I won't be able to help Duo unless I get myself together again."
"That's more like it." Wufei pressed climbing gear in Heero's hands. "Let's anchor ourselves. We don't want someone else to fall through the ice again."
"What happened to your wife?" Heero asked as they worked on the anchors. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."
Wufei didn't look up, but checked if the rope was secured tight. "She was killed during a revolt of our tribe against certain authorities," he said. "It was a bullet that killed her."
"I'm sorry."
Another click and the rope was as strong and tight in its position as it could be. Wufei went to the next anchor, checking it thoroughly. "Prepare for our descent. We don't know what we'll encounter down there. Keep a straight mind, Yuy."
Descending the staircase had been a walk in the park compared to rappelling in a crevasse of ice. Nothing was as claustrophobic as huge walls of ice surrounding you, the cold seeping through your skin and bones, the vastness of impenetrable matter blocking your vision, your breath, your hearing… even though the ropes were secured into the mountain rock, Heero couldn't help but feel extremely vulnerable. The ice was moving and shifting, slowly, but something had set off to make Duo fall through it. Wufei thought it was a trap, and Heero was inclined to think the same; as they were rapelling, they passed meters and meters of thick, massive ice. Heero ignored the strain on his body as he descended. He was hoping to hear something, any kind of sound that Duo would make - his breathing, a soft groan, anything - to let him know he was still alive.
One of the sherpas suddenly hollered.
"What's he saying? What's he saying?"
"He's through the ice," Wufei translated. "He's going to drop a flare to measure the distance to the ground."
Heero tried to look over his shoulder, but all he could see was ice, that seemed to creep closer by the millimeter by the second. He just wanted to leave these walls of ice behind and feel solid ground again. He couldn't even see the light of the flare, but he heard the sherpa hollering again.
"It's five meters to the ground," Wufei said, relief audible. "We have more than enough rope."
Duo had fallen at least over ten meters, Heero calculated. That was… not really a comforting thought. He knew of people who survived a fall from greater heights, but he'd also known people who died from falling from not as great heights… it all depended on how Duo had made his impact. On his back? On his front? Would he have hit his head first, obliterating his skull? Heero quickly ended that train of thoughts. He heaved a deep sigh, concentrated and continued climbing down.
The disappointment was great when he reached solid ground again. Wufei walked around to gage the dimensions of the hollow cavern they were now, and the sherpas stared at the icy ceiling.
"Footsteps," Wufei announced out of the dark corner he was in. Heero followed the sound of his voice to join him, noticing how his friend had crouched down to spot the footsteps in a thin layer of powdered snow.
"It's not the pattern of Duo's boots," Heero said immediately. Wufei didn't mind that he shone his flashlight on it as well.
"It looks more like a workman's shoe," Wufei said. "I take it Maxwell's boots are still steel-toed? The impression should've been a lot heavier here."
Heero was well aware of Wufei's sharp intelligence and ability to remember precise details from just the smallest encounters. He was glad the other was able to join him; he knew that he would've thrown himself in head over heels, with Duo involved. Wufei provided the calm, rational part of the balance - which didn't mean he didn't care about Duo at all. But something in Chang Wufei kept him in balance, and even though he barely let on what went on in his mind, Heero trusted him unconditionally.
"Duo isn't here," he said. "These footsteps prove that other people are here." The print of the shoe was far too modern for any monk who had helped build the tomb for the Khan. Wufei brushed off the ice on his knees and straightened himself again.
"The question is: who's here? The footprint seemed rather fresh to me. This is the Annapurna mountain range; the sherpas didn't know any way in but this one."
"Did you come through Barkhang monastery?" Heero was curious. Wufei shook his head.
"The sherpas knew about the small shed that hid the entrance. They had to pray extensively before entering, though. It has something to do with the eyes painted on the outside."
"I guess the eyes of an ever watchful… deity or something," Heero murmured.
"I have not joined any religion or any philosophy, so I wouldn't know. I haven't seen any monk, let alone that place you named." Wufei asked something of the sherpas, and translated the answer to Heero. "They wouldn't know how anyone else could be down here either. The only way to get in, is the way we traveled."
"I don't trust this." Heero reached back and pulled out the short-barreled shotgun. Wufei narrowed his eyes and mimicked Heero's gesture, pulling out his katana.
"There should be no one down here but Maxwell."
The two sherpas picked up on the change in atmosphere and looked a little fearful at the drawn weapons. Wufei told them to calm down and stay in the back of the small group; the only 'weapon' they carried was a hunter's knife for their usual, daily work. Wufei searched around for more footsteps and discovered a trail not long thereafter.
"Here," he said. "It goes to the east. Whoever it was, he was probably carrying Maxwell; I don't see any drag marks."
Heero's heart flared up with hope. "He must be alive," he said.
"Let's continue the trail," Wufei suggested. "Wherever it's leading us to, it's bound to be something interesting."
"All I care for is Duo," Heero said.
"I know." Wufei was holding his flashlight and his katana, and made no move to store his weapon back into his backpack. Instinctively, the sherpas were at their guard as well: something had changed, shifted, and it wasn't for the better. Their hands were close to their knives, their bodies a little hunched. "We'll go this way. Be on your guard."
The mountain was dark and silent. The sherpas moved unnaturally like ghosts, being in an environment they knew well, sliding along the mountain walls and merging with the shadows. Wufei and Heero needed light to see where they were going, even though they only used one flashlight to be as stealthy as possible. The rubble on the ground made it difficult to remain completely silent; Heero could hear himself and Wufei mutter curses under their breath when another small rock rolled away under their feet, the sound echoed immediately. Up front, Wufei kept a firm pace, able to keep up with the trail. Heero followed him with the sherpas in the back, everybody fit and strong enough to maintain the jogging. Heero ignored his protesting muscles. All he cared about was Duo, that had been the complete truth. He would walk on blistered, calloused and injured feet if that would take him to his beloved; he didn't care for anything about the moment but Duo. That moment that he sunk through the ice was going to be a nightmare, hunting him forever…. and they still hadn't found him. Where are you?
He halted. Wufei had crouched down in front of him, holding up his hand with the katana.
"Quiet," he hissed before Heero could say anything. The sherpas joined the little group; they had noticed before even Wufei did. The rumbling sound they had picked up on a few minutes ago, hadn't been the mountain itself. Heero had thought it might be an earthquake or worse, and Wufei hadn't mentioned it at all. How many meters had they traveled inside this mountain range? It was easy to get distracted and disorientated. Duo, Duo, Duo was the mantra running in his mind, and Heero couldn't care less about his precise position as long as he got to find Duo.
Forcing himself not to think of Duo at the moment - no matter how difficult it was - and crouching next to Wufei, Heero concentrated on what was in front of him. A multitude of footsteps, prints perfectly conserved by the thin layer of snow, all coming together. The trail was leading around the corner, where the rumbling sound was coming from, increasing. Wufei turned off his flashlight and stored it in a pocket of his pants. A faint light also came from around the corner, accompanied by voices. Heero moved a little closer.
"Attento, voi idiota! Attento! É fragile!"
"Chiuda la scopata in su, uomo anziano!"
"Italian," Heero whispered. "They're speaking Italian."
"Bartoli?" Wufei unsheathed his katana, the razor sharp blade catching a flicker of the faint light.
"I haven't heard his voice before. Someone said 'old man', but I doubt…"
"They would call their leader that," Wufei finished his sentence. He looked grim. "We have no choice but to go around the corner and confront whoever is there."
"They know where Duo is," Heero hissed.
"Do you really think I'm going to kill them all?" Wufei almost sounded amused, if Heero didn't know any better. He hesitated, though. "The Fiamma Nera had no qualms about killing you."
"I want Marco Bartoli alive," Heero said. The entire cult and its cronies were cannon fodder to him, as far as he was concerned. The leader, the man who had given the orders, that was the one who knew where Duo was and who was responsible for all of this. A huge crashing sound startled them both, followed by loud screams and someone howling in pain.
"What the hell is going on there?" Impatiently, Wufei started to crouch around the corner, using the shadows to his advantage. To move lightly, he had left his backpack with the sherpas, who would stay out of the fight. Hugging the wall, katana in hand, he motioned to Heero to follow him. The short-barreled shotgun hadn't been Heero's first choice of weapons, he preferred his customized Remington, but it would have to do. It was loaded and ready to fire when need be; Heero recognized his anxiety in his need to find Duo. He had to keep cool, he had to keep himself calm and collected. This was a mission, a mission to rescue Duo, and Duo couldn't be rescued if Heero went in recklessly and unprepared.
He took the other side, hugging the rock wall. The thin film of ice on the wall pressed against his clothes, but Heero ignored all discomfort at the moment. In front of him was an artificial cavern, a large part of the mountain hollowed out mechanically to provide enough standing room for humans. Heero could see the machinery, huge digging machines and forklift trucks to remove the rubble. Taking in the scenery, Heero counted at least fifteen men; among them workers in the easy recognizable black clothes with the Fiamma Nera insignia, two men with clipboards, hard-hats and white laboratory coats, and two men with Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine guns. They were laughing, talking rapid Italian with each other and smoking, blowing the smoke up in the air. Huge air processors were pumping fresh, filtered air into the massive cavern to facilitate breathing; no one could do this kind of physical labor in the thin, oxygen lacking air. Next to the air processors were huge professional lamps, mounted on tall poles to create a sea of light, focusing on an object at the back of the cavern. A man was sitting next to the object, wailing and screaming, as his foot was caught under a huge slab of stone. His coworkers weren't really helping him out; they walked at ease around the slab to refasten the straps of the cable that was supposed to lift the object.
Heero made eye contact with Wufei. The other nodded. The two men with the submachine guns were pointing and laughing at the poor sap with his foot caught. Wufei smirked. They were so busy laughing and smoking, that their hands were nowhere close to the triggers of their guns. He flexed his muscles, tightening his grip on his katana. Heero raised the shotgun a little and moved forward.
"Hands up!" he hollered. "Mani in su! Mani in su!"
Wufei was much faster than the two men with the submachine guns; before they could point their weapons in Heero's direction, he had cut off the barrels, his katana slicing through the metal as a hot knife through butter, leaving the Heckler & Kochs useless.
"Hands up!" Heero repeated. The two scientists had dropped their clipboards immediately, cowering in fear, while the workers growled and balled their hands into fists. "No no no, don't bunch up. Apart! Move away from each other! Show me your hands! Move! Rapidamente!"
"Duo Maxwell," Wufei snarled at the two men in front of him, sliced weapons on the ground, between their feet. "Where is he? Duo Maxwell!"
"I dun speak Engleesh," the taller of the two said, grinning like a loon. He didn't seem all too bothered with the tip of a katana close to his throat. "I dun understan."
Heero pointed his shotgun at him. "Do you understand this?"
The expression on the burly guy's face changed, just a little, and his eyes darted from the katana to the shotgun and back again. "I dun't know."
"Bartoli," Wufei tried again. "Where's Marco Bartoli?"
"What do you want from him?" One of the scientists had spoken, hands still raised in the air. "Who are you people?"
"Duo Maxwell," Heero repeated Wufei's words. "Have you seen him? Long, chestnut braid, dressed in white, carrying a green backpack?"
The two scientists looked at each other, confusion clearly visible on their faces. "Look, we are speleologists," he explained. "We work for mister Bartoli to study the specifics of this system of caves he has found."
"'He has found'?" Wufei didn't move his katana. "Including what you're trying to break open now?"
"It's an archaeological find," the second scientist spoke, his voice much lighter than his colleague's. "We didn't know it was here. Mister Bartoli wants to preserve this place so he can reveal its existence to the public later…"
"Bullshit," Heero interrupted him rudely. "He used you to find the tomb of a Khan, and is now trying to break it open to retrieve a sword that was buried with him. Get the hell out of here while we finish our business."
"The good doctors are going nowhere."
Heero swung his shotgun around. "Finally."
Marco Bartoli raised his hands obediently, but he addressed the two speleologists first. "My apologies for not warning you," he said. "We saw signore Yuy and his friends arrive, and we wanted him to think he had the element of surprise. You fulfilled your roles perfectly, gentlemen. Now, be as kind as to leave indeed. This is a matter between him and me."
"I have no business with you but to ask you where Duo is," Heero said as the two scientists quickly removed themselves. He watched their retreating backs, if only to locate the exit. Bartoli stepped aside to allow the men to pass; behind him were six other Fiamma Nera cultists, each as strong and bulky as Schwarzenegger on super steroids.
"He's right here," Bartoli said as if stating the weather was cold outside. "You'll get to see him soon enough. He's a tough one, he only sustained one broken leg from the fall."
"You rigged the ice," Heero kept his shotgun pointed at the Italian. The picture hadn't done him justice; the man's features were much sharper and pointier, as if someone had taken a knife and cut his face crudely into the shape he wanted. "You made sure it collapsed."
"It was just a precaution. I'm about to make a discovery of an ancient, mysterious artifact, mister Yuy. You'll understand that I had to take precautions to preserve this moment. I don't like being pushed out of the spotlight. Your friend was supposed to die, of course."
"Don't talk about Duo like that." Heero's eyes darted back and forth. The silence was suffocating him. Apparently everyone was waiting for Bartoli to give orders, because no one was moving on his own. Heero could feel the threat coming from the workers. He had not enough ammunition to kill them all, and he hadn't come down here to kill in cold blood. "I'm not interested in the sword. You can have it, and enjoy your longevity for the moment. Guys like you don't grow old, magical and mysterious swords or not."
"Put your weapons down," Bartoli demanded. "Now."
"No way." Heero took a step forward. "Give me Duo first, then we'll talk."
"Fine." Bartoli was unimpressed. He snapped with his fingers. "Give him what he wants."
The six cultists behind Bartoli moved apart like a sea being separated, revealing Marshall Noventa and Duo, leaning onto the old man. Heero didn't need more than a second to notice the blood all over his right leg, the fabric of his costume torn and soaked with blood.
"Duo!"
"Wait," Bartoli barked as he saw Heero coming towards him. "I will give Duo to you, if you do something for me first."
"What? What the fuck are you getting at, Bartoli?"
The two cultists closest to Duo and Noventa pulled sai-like weapons out of their robes, pointing at their hostages. Heero grunted in frustration. His body had started trembling again; he felt powerless against Bartoli, and Duo hadn't responded to his name. He wasn't surprised to see Noventa, but in his state of mind nothing would register properly. His anger was directed at Bartoli, who calmly stood there, relaxed and smiling as if he was organizing a tea party. Heero was so caught up in his anger for the man and his worries for Duo that he didn't see the sad, unhappy look on Noventa's face.
"Put your weapons down, right now."
Heero lowered the shotgun. He had his back turned to Wufei, holding up his katana to the two previously armed cultists. He didn't know what his friend was doing, but Wufei wasn't the one to give up as quickly as he did. But still… seeing those nasty knives being pointed at Duo…
"Don't…"
"Duo?"
"Don't give into him." Duo's voice was raspy. He leaned heavily on Noventa due to his broken leg, but the older man seemed to be able to support him well. His arms were shifting with every movement, limp and slow. "He's a criminal…"
Heero's heart ached, but it was very obvious what he was going to do. He already made a movement to put the shotgun down, and as he lowered the weapon, he looked at Duo, trying to figure out his injuries. Duo looked at him, violet eyes locking on his, and a smirk tugging at his lips. Heero's movement slowed down, his finger curling around the trigger. Bartoli, who watched him closely, seemed to be confused by Heero's slow reaction. Just as he was about to spur Heero on, Duo took matters into his own hands. With the cultists' attention focused on Heero, Duo shed his helpless, broken attitude in just a second and punched the cultist to his left in the stomach. He immediately turned around, like a whirlwind, the pain of his broken leg not interrupting his swing at the cultist to the right.
Using the distraction, Heero straightened himself, aimed the shotgun and fired. Bartoli was fast for a man his age, and the cultist behind him was hit full in the chest as the Italian rolled to the side. Heero swung to the right to take a shot at the other cultists, who broke up and ran away, except for the one who had blocked Duo's punch and was trying to work him on the ground. In his attempt to create confusion and a distraction, Duo had forgotten about the other Fiamma Nera workers in the cavern, and as quickly as his riot had started, it was over again. The cultist kicked at his broken leg so he fell to the ground, crying out in pain, and the workers surrounded both Heero and Wufei, ready to fight and overpower them despite their weapons.
"All right, all right," Heero said, knowing when the odds were against him. He put the shotgun on the floor, which was taken away by one of the cultists and pointed at him. Wufei let out a string of Chinese expletives when his katana was taken from him. The cultists advanced on them, fists raised. Bartoli was standing to the side, dusting off his black suit, unaffected. The dead cultist was already forgotten by his fellow men; everyone was gazing at the indisputable leader, Marco Bartoli.
"You don't disappoint me, mister Maxwell, mister Yuy," he said. "I have been told countless times of your determination and resilience. It's unbelievable how you bounce back, no matter how grim the outlook of your situation. Too bad I don't have any need for you in my organization."
"Who told you? What do you know about us?" Heero demanded to know. Bartoli snorted.
"I have a network of my own, mister Yuy, and you've seen how far it can reach. You were supposed to die at my hands several times over, and though my men lacked the competence" - a wry smile - "they certainly didn't lack the material. I have interests in everything. Ships, cars, stock exchanges, even canned food and olive oil. My starting capital came from the insurance for our sunken ship, the Maria Doria. But whenever I had trouble, I knew I could always ask for help. My good friend, Marshall Noventa."
Noventa had tried to make himself as invisible as possible, but saw how everyone was looking at him right now. He turned his head away, his shoulders hunched. Heero wondered why the former peace negotiator wasn't responding, but his attention went to Duo, lying on the ground with his hands around his broken leg, muttering crude expletives under his breath. The two cultists with the stabbing weapons were close to his side, ready to strike when given the order. So far, Bartoli seemed to enjoy the attention just like any other textbook villain; Heero quickly absorbed the information as his mind was working out escape routes and alternative plans to get out of this predicament.
"As I said, I have my own network and my own resources. I have the men and the material to get the sword of the Khan. That's his tomb, by the way. That idiot Enrico managed to snap the cable so he got the cover stone on his foot. A stupidity that is rewarded with death."
"What the fuck are you…" Duo said, but Bartoli had whipped out a gun from his jacket, a small Beretta-type handgun that fired twice. The man in question, Enrico, gasped for breath just once more and collapsed against the tomb.
"I deal with stupidity the only way stupidity should be dealt with." Bartoli held the gun visibly in his hand. "Everyone who failed to kill you, has met the same fate. There's only room for success and victory in my life, and with this discovery, the Bartoli family will regain her former fame and fortune."
"Nonsense." His voice was soft, but Noventa actually spoke. "There's hardly anyone of your family left, Marco. You don't do this for your family, you only do this for your own gain."
Bartoli didn't hesitate to point the gun at Noventa. "Of course I do this for my own gain," he said. "The sword will help me to achieve my goal. The family I have now, is old and washed up. I will create a new, strong family, with me as their patriarch! The name Bartoli will be restored to its former glory, and we'll rise to power!"
"It's always the same goddamn thing," Duo said from his position on the ground. "Do you really think one fucking artifact will 'help you to achieve your goal'? What are you going to do, hold the sword to your side all the time? Kiss and hug it before you go to bed?"
"I'll show you exactly what I'm going to do with that sword." Bartoli's breathing became a little erratic. "Unlike you, I know the entire story. Unlike you, I know what to do when I have the sword in my hands." He moved the gun away from Noventa and made a sharp, jerking gesture with his head towards the cultists. "Nicola, Antonio, continue the work! Remove that slab and open the tomb!"
"Bartoli!" Heero took a step forward.
"Ah, si, I forgot all about your friend here." Bartoli made another head gesture to the two cultists guarding Duo, and they took a step to the side. Immediately Heero rushed over, sliding to his knees next to Duo and he grabbed and hugged him so tightly that Duo couldn't get any breath.
"Let go of me, Heero," he wheezed, "or at least hold me just not so tight, okay?"
"I was so worried about you," Heero ignored any stares or looks, "I thought you had died…"
"I thought so too." Duo tried to smile, but the pain was too intense. Noventa had tried to make a splint, but he hadn't had the right materials to do so. The fracture was covered and wrapped tightly with a piece of cloth, already soaked with blood.
"You need medical attention," Heero said. "We have to get you out of here."
"Do explain how you want to do that?" Duo was amused. His eyes shone with the same deviousness as always, he wasn't about to give up - but his body was giving out on him, fatigue and pain sucking up all of his energy.
"I'll find a way," Heero whispered, bringing his lips close to Duo's. "I'll find a way. Through hell and back, my love."
"There's another exit to the southeast." Noventa had joined their little moment of intimacy, and Heero glared daggers at him, as he'd been about to kiss Duo. The elderly man ignored him, focusing on Duo's face instead. "I can lead you there, but not without all these… people watching us."
The cultists, minus their dead colleague, had surrounded them, keeping a little distance. It was going to be tough breaking through their circle, and Heero didn't think he could handle all five of them single-handedly. Noventa was no match for any of them, and Duo's weak spot was his leg, obviously… without Duo in his usual fit state, he couldn't fight these guys. He tried to make eye contact with Wufei, guarded by the two men whose guns he had destroyed.
"What is this place?" Heero asked Noventa, even though he knew the answer.
"This is the final resting place of Kol-An-Anuum," Noventa said. "I haven't been straight with you from the beginning. I haven't told you everything I knew. I have killed Gianni Bartoli," he continued before Heero could say something. "I'm the one who's responsible for all of this."
"The Marshall's conscience is too hard on him," Duo said.
"You lied to us?" Heero narrowed his eyes.
"The.. the story is true, up until Gianni started to show the first signs of hypothermia," Noventa said hesitantly.
"Why should I believe anything you're saying right now?" Heero made a dismissive gesture. "You endangered us all!"
"Heero, our job isn't without danger in the first place," Duo reminded him. Heero was furious.
"How can you say that? We can prepare for dangerous circumstances, but not for lies! What is it that you didn't tell us?"
Noventa looked around shyly, as if afraid to be overheard, even now. "I didn't tell you exactly how Gianni died." He heaved a sigh, looking way older than his actual age. "We traveled through these mountain ranges, as I told you, unprepared in our youthful foolishness. That part I didn't lie about… that part I didn't left out. What I left out, were Gianni's last hours. When I brought him into the cave, knowing that he wasn't going to live for much longer, I held him company. He was afraid to die of course, and I was afraid of what I was witnessing… a dying man, a man dying because of simple…stupidity. We should've hired sherpas. We should've brought a map, a flint, anything for basic survival, but in our backpacks were souvenirs for our families and a clean change of underwear." Noventa shook his head. "As we sat there, in the cave, Gianni asked me the real reason why I was trekking through the country. When I met him, at that bar in Chengdu, I simply told him that I was just enjoying some time off and traveling around. I figured that it didn't really matter, so I told Gianni everything about the sword."
"It sounds even stupid to my ears now," he continued, "before I could get any help, Gianni wanted to know why I was trekking around. He didn't let me go before he knew the real reason. When I told him, he just smiled and said "I thought so"."
"Why?" Heero asked brusquely.
"I don't know. Really, I don't." Noventa put up his hands in self-defense, but he couldn't defend himself from Heero's angry, prying eyes. "I guess he didn't hold me for a typical tourist like I pretended to be. He knew I had some kind of goal, and…perhaps he was just curious. He didn't laugh at me, he didn't call me weird for believing there was such an artifact in the first place. I showed him my notes and he was convinced that the sword existed. He was begging me, begging me to find it right away. If the sword was the container of eternal youth, perhaps it could save him, save him from dying."
"A dying man's delusional last words." Heero heard himself say the words, clipping them harshly as he spoke. He despised liars, and he didn't pay attention to Duo tugging at his sleeve. He didn't want to hear any good-natured words from Duo now. He couldn't believe that Duo could still be defending this man, this… old man who didn't deserve the respect and honor he was showered with?
"Perhaps," Noventa said. "But Gianni Bartoli was my friend, and I killed him. We got words about the sword, I kept protesting that I couldn't find it in those few hours that he had left, and he got upset, it was… it was awful. The tension rose so high that I… I hit him with my flashlight."
"The broken shards Tsering showed us," Duo reminded Heero. He tried to get up, grimacing as the pain shot through his body. Subconsciously, Heero tightened his grip on Duo again, but this time he didn't protest.
"So you're a liar and a murderer," Heero said mercilessly. "Is that why you went into politics? Is that why you swore you would defend peace and Earth, and is that why you strived for total disarmament?"
"I was a peaceful man to begin with, Heero Yuy," Noventa said, tiredly. "I made a terrible mistake when I was young and yes, it propelled me to fight in my own way for a peaceful world, that one day people would throw down their arms and lived together without violence. I didn't dare to tell you this, afraid of how you would be judging me. It seemed that I was right."
"Do you expect us to feel pity for you?"
"Heero!" Duo punched him in the stomach, lacking his usual strength. "How dare you? Noventa has…"
"Lied to us, yes, and made this whole expedition a lot more difficult!"
"He's not responsible for what Bartoli did," Duo said. "Stop condemning him, Heero. I was mad too when he told me - but he's not the bad guy here. It was Marco Bartoli who decided to seek revenge. He tortured and forced Noventa into telling him about his father, and when he heard about the sword, he took it upon himself to find it."
"I didn't know he would actually follow up on it," Noventa said. "He read my notes, but didn't keep them. I don't know how he found this entrance, but the truth is… I think it's close to the cave where his father died. We were close to the sword, and perhaps… perhaps if I had done something, I could've saved Gianni's life instead of ruin it."
"That's all water under the bridge." Duo tugged at Heero again, impatiently. "Help me up. It's cold on the ground. We better think of a way to stop Bartoli before he gets his hands on the sword."
"I guess it's too late for that," Heero said grimly when he heard a triumphant laugh echoing through the cavern.
Chapter 12 | Chapter 14 |