Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does NOT belong to me... (Damn, damn, damn...) No infringement on the rights of the owners of said anime intended. Don’t sue me, suing isn’t nice. As for the fic, don’t steal it! Criticism accepted (feed me feed-back at Fire_Elf_Rei[ AT ]hotmail.com!!!), flames laughed at.
“Security might be a problem, sir.” The young cadet interjected.
He sighed and rolled his eyes, “Cadet, security’s always a problem. This speech is very important.”
“With all due respect, sir,” The man next to him said, a small smirk on his face, “Your life is also very important.”
He slammed his hand down on the desk. “Goddamn it, I will not cower in the background just because of a few childish rebels! Now I suggest you go make the proper accommodations and secure the hall.”
The cadet nodded shakily, obviously shaken at his leader’s unusual show of anger and backed out of the room.
“Treize...” The man began.
He rubbed his sore hand. “Don’t start. Just don’t. I have to do this.”
“No you don’t. We don’t need their support! We can deal with this...”
“I said I will give the goddamn speech!” He yelled, whirling on his subordinate.
He sighed and threw up his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright... What time is the speech set for?”
“Why?”
“If you’re going, so am I. I won’t let you go out there and risk yourself without reasonable protection!”
“No, please. I don’t want to endanger you!”
“Then don’t give the goddamn speech! I’m your subordinate, remember?!! I’m supposed to protect you!” He stood up, gathering the papers spread out on the table in front of him.
“Zechs, please...”
“Don’t ‘Zechs, please...’ me. You’re too willing to take risks! You give me a heart attack near every time you step out this door!”
He sighed. “It’s at seven.”
“Thank you.” He saluted his superior then left the room.
He sat down in his chair at his desk. “Okay... Where to begin? We gathered you here today, ladies... No... Today we gather here to... No, not right either... Today we celebrate...”
Zechs sighed as he checked with security one last time before heading behind the podium to sit and watch the speech. “All clear?”
“As far as we can tell, sir. We’ve been checking ID’s and everything, sir! Short of frisking, sir.” The man was tinkering with a bit of wire. “All systems should be go in thirty seconds, sir.”
“Tell me if anything changes, I have my ear-piece in.” He nodded to the techs then made his way to the front of the auditorium. Politely pulling Treize away from a conversation with some diplomat or another, he relayed the message.
“Good. Well, we’d better begin then...” Treize nodded, turning to the podium and holding his hand up for silence.
Zechs slipped back to a chair in the middle of a bunch of diplomats. Barely moving his mouth, he spoke into the mouth-piece clipped to the shirt of his tuxedo. “Everything good?”
“Yup...” Came the whispered answer.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have called you here today to announce changes that are going to be made in the system...”
As Treize went on, Zechs’ mind wandered, keeping an eye on the audience at all times. He saw something out of the corner of his eye that remarkably resembled a gun, specifically a Kalashnikov... “Uh oh you guys... We may have a problem...” He whispered into his mouth-piece.
“What?” A hurried reply.
“Indian diplomat, my 12:00... Two men down, the one in the black tux. I think he’s got a Kalash...”
“Wait a second, repeat that. I thought you just said you saw a man with a Kalashnikov!”
“I did, damn it! Who’s got the twenty on the shooter?”
“Uh... No one, we’re all too far...”
“Who’s the closest one?” He asked, hurriedly.
“Uh... No one, really. Look, we’ll take care...”
“He’s bringing it out... I have no choice!”
“Don’t do it, sir!”
“I have no choice. GUN! GUN! EVERYBODY DOWN!!!” He screamed as he sprung out of his seat and side-tackled his superior, who was in the middle of giving his speech. As he did so, several shots rang out.
Treize reacted purely in shock to being thrown aside, then being dragged back behind the marble podium by his subordinate.
Zechs risked a look out, then seeing a clear shot, he pulled out a gun from a pocket inside his coat and shot once.
The ear-piece shrilled to life. “The shooter’s down, the shooter’s down everyone!”
Zechs sighed, then whimpered as his legs gave out from under him and he crashed into Treize, who was still sitting on the ground, trying to figure out what had just happened.
Treize pulled the slight weight of his subordinate off him, then realized that the man was seeping blood through his clothes. “Shit! Goddamn it! Damn damn damn...”
Zechs’ ear-piece blared to life again. “Oh my god, look at all the blood! Who’s been hit?!! Who’s been hit?!!”
Treize fumbled for the mouth-piece he knew was on Zechs’ shirt collar. “Zechs’ been hit, he’s losing a lot of blood. Get a transport ready now!”
“Thank god you’re safe, sir!”
“Right now, we need to worry about him.” He said, looking down at the unconscious figure in his arms. The panicked screams of the crowd mixed with the pounding of his own heart-beat in his ears, but he heard them through a daze of disbelief. Although in shock, he thought quickly enough to check if Zechs was still breathing. “Vital stats are clear but the beat is faint and irregular...”
The voice of the other end of the system cursed. “We’re getting a rescue team up there as soon as we can, sir.”
“Well, hurry the fuck up with it!”
“Uh, sorry sir.”
He sighed in relief as he saw a crew of three medics pushing their way up onto the stage, stretcher and supplies in tow. He relinquished his hold on his subordinate as they lifted the body onto the stretcher, but kept the man’s hand tucked within his own. The crew didn’t comment, and went about their duty with a speed that would amaze most people.
“Vitals 2 and 20. Give me twenty ccs to prevent seizure...” A female medic ordered, then administered the dose to the base of Zechs’ neck.
As they whisked down the halls, people scattering in front of them, a crew member pulled out a wrist com unit from under her uniform. “We’ve got incoming of a young man...”
“He’s nineteen.” Treize managed to blurt out.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Him,” Treize nodded towards the form on the gurney, “He’s nineteen.”
“Alright, clarification, incoming of nineteen-year-old male, five gunshot wounds, losing a lot of blood so have units ready, E.T.A. ten minutes.” She listened to the voice on the other side. “Sir, do you know what blood type he is?”
“I think... He’s type O.”
She relayed the message just as the helicopter took off and most sound was drowned out by the thundering of the blades above.
Upon reaching the hospital, the doctors had to literally break the hold Treize had on his subordinate’s hand. The female medic looked up at him. “I assure you sir, he’s in the best of care now. Why don’t you go down and wait in the lobby. Would you like something to drink? Or eat?”
He shook his head numbly and watch them cart away his protector.
“Sir?”
He started violently. “Wh-what?!!”
A young woman, around 19, obviously a hospital helper, was at his side. “Why don’t we go down to the waiting room?”
Treize didn’t respond.
She tugged on his arm. “Come on. There’s nothing you can do to help him now. Except wait. You might as well be comfortable; even though I don’t know him, I’m sure he’d want you in out of the cold.”
Treize nodded slightly and, dazed, followed the girl inside.