008

008 Death Trap.

It was pitch-black where he was. He didn’t where this place was exactly but he was going to try to figure it out. He could smell the cleanliness in this dark, and the room even reeked of high society. The stench made him choke. Damn poodle cologne. Well, I’m still in Greenwich Village, if that’s any consolation. He grimaced. It was a very small consolation.

He attempted to feel his way around the perimeter of the room but ended up ramming his knee into a chair. He swore under his breath and kept on walking. Damn chair in the middle of the damn room. What’s next? A coffee table? He ignored the throbbing pain and kept on going. He had to find some kind of way out. He had been sitting there far too long and his butt was sore in the process. Not good. Not good at all.

By the time he had made it around, he had found nothing. But his knee had located another chair, a table, and even met the wall. Needless to say, his knee was not very happy right now. As a matter of fact, it was yelling four-letter words that would make a sailor wince. Holding his knee, he collapsed into the floor again.

“God,” he muttered. “This room is a death trap.”

Before he could move any farther, the wall slid open in a mysteriously unforseen place. As a matter of fact, this so called door hadn’t even been felt by his exploring hands. He paused as a light flickered on and a tall figure emerged from the other side. He blinked furiously as the light hurt his eyes, wishing at that moment to be left in the dark. It would have suited his mood better. At that moment he became face to face with his captor, and he wasn’t too happy about it. So to curb the urge he had to level his captor’s head, he sat on the floor, elbows on knees, forehead on forearms.

“Hello Heero Yuy.”

Heero didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t look at the man’s face. The rush of rage that washed over him was so strong that it could have knocked out two mountains and Antarctica. In his own mental training over the last thirty years, he had learned that things were good in moderation. His best bet was to pummel him when the first chance came, but it hadn’t shown itself yet.

“Where is my daughter?” he asked abruptly.

The tone of the man seemed to change. As if he sensed the dangerous intent lurking behind those four words, he became a lot less Dr. Evil and became more Number Two—explanatory and sickeningly neutral. The blunt routine seemed to work. But hey—it beat not knowing where the heck his daughter was. At least he’d start getting some answers.

“Your daughter managed to escape from our men, Mr. Yuy,” the man explained. Heero suppressed the miniscule feeling of hope that had cultivated after that statement. All that damned training, as strenuous as it was, had gone to some good use. But Heero frowned then. Free might be one thing, but was she alive? After all, it was New York City, a place she hadn’t been before in her life.
But her mother had.

Heero looked up this time, wanting to see the man’s face as he answered. “So if she’s escaped, where is my wife?” he demanded.

The man’s face suddenly switched again. Heero felt that same sensation of falling into the depths of hell that had nearly sent him going nuts after these situations in which rich scientists and those of the same mold came after him and his prodigy daughter. For a moment, he could imagine Hell with the horned devil looming over him, reminding him of all his sins…

“The car that she was being transported in never made it here,” the man answered, breaking through Heero’s demonic thoughts.

Whoa. That rush of rage suddenly became a waterfall of hurt and pain. Okay, worse-case scenario. The car crashed and Danie was dead. Heero played with the thought for a moment, the blood draining from his already pale face. Danie… The mere notion that she could be dead sent a quiver through him. They had spent so much of their lives together… She was his humanity and him her lifelong love… He would have rather have lost a body part. At least Danie would be there to take care of him.

But then again… Danie wasn’t the type to just roll over and die. She had shown her determination over the years, even risking her health after a car accident to come after the people who were trying to harm their daughter. She was like a cat. She avoided danger at every turn, gave it a nyah-nyah-you-can’t-get-me sort of hair toss, and went on her way. It was one of her strong points, aside from her penchant for making him nuts over her.

“I wouldn’t count either my daughter out or my wife,” Heero said suddenly, feeling relieved to hear the words aloud. “In a way, they have part of me with them. And I’m not the type who dies easily.” In other words, I could kill you. Forget could. I’m gonna kill you.

“That’s the kind of thing I like to hear,” the man said, eyes glinting with that same malice that he had walked in with. “But you do realize that if you try anything, we can just exterminate your son.”

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