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Power Trip	By : kracken Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3344 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I don't make any money off of this.

Chapter List
- 1-Power Trip
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
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"You're out of uniform," Milliardo growled as he finished the straps on the bombs that held them securely in the carrier hold.
Six men and two women were seated on both sides of the jump ship, weapons stowed, and combat uniforms correct. There was some personal style among them, here and there; a button, a cross, or a few stickers proclaiming different things on helmets, but none of them had their uniform khaki shirt over one shoulder, necklaces that looked to be bone and shell knotted on rough cord, around their necks, or bracelets and rings that sported skulls, crosses, and what looked like three rosaries twisted around a gun harness. Duo Maxwell seemed to have dressed like a rock star, or someone who very much wanted to piss off his commander.
Duo flipped his shirt off of his strong, rounded shoulder with an apologetic grin, as he began to put it on. "Just wanted to dry off, first, commander." His jewelry flashed and swung, as he moved, even his dog tags, but none of it rattled together. It looked as if he had specially knotted everything for just that effect. Milliardo had time to notice a knife strapped to his belt across the back of his pants and a gun tucked up tight on his left, before he covered it with his uniform and began shrugging into heavier harness.
It was the standard, all purpose harness, the one that either held a man in his seat, or hooked onto a parachute in case of emergency. It could also be used to drag a wounded man or his corpse, if things went very badly. It said Duo Maxwell in marker across one shoulder. Duo was by far the shortest man in the room. Standard issue was never going to fit him. He had his equipment specially fitted.
"I don't know what you think you're doing, Agent Maxwell," Milliardo growled as he grabbed handholds, as the ship began taxiing, and leaned almost in the man's face,"but this is my mission. If you step out of line, one more time with your theatrics, I will send you home. Since we'll currently be in the heart of a jungle, your walk home would be long and very difficult. Do I make myself clear?"
"Very clear, sir," Duo replied and gave Milliardo a stiff salute, as if he were perfectly serious about obeying Milliardo's orders. He took his seat and buckled himself up.
A heavy set agent, with big arms, and a five o clock shadow on his lantern jaw, was taking up some of Duo's space. Duo elbowed the man irritably. Speaking over the sudden roar of engines, he said, "Do you mind Hawkins?I don't usually get this close to a guy unless we're fucking."
"Shit, Maxwell," the man replied sarcastically,"If you want to sit in my lap, and rotate, go right ahead. It'll pass the time."
"Good one," Duo snorted.
"It is, Maxwell," the man smirked. "It definitely is."
"Can that kind of talk!" Milliardo barked with a glare as he sat down and buckled up.
Duo looked apologetic and shrugged. He then sank down into his seat and closed his eyes, as if he had decided that sleep was the only thing that was going to keep himself out of trouble. Milliardo found himself staring at Duo, especially at the way that his camo uniform pants tented over his crotch. It made him remember sharply, exactly what was under that cloth.
Milliardo growled under his breath and yanked out his flat, handheld computer. He brought up mission specs and began shouting out a checklist, each man or woman shouting back what had been their responsibility. It should have been completed before take off. Maxwell had distracted him. It was an embarrassment, now, and it hardly calmed Milliardo's anger when he discovered, at the end of the checklist, that not even Maxwell had forgotten anything.
Milliardo checked weather reports, then, and any updates for the area, keeping a constant flow of information in front of him. There wasn't much that had changed, to warrant that level of vigilance, but Milliardo never liked to leave anything to chance or leave any agent dead on the field because he had failed to monitor a simple weather report, or satellite feed.
Deep jungle. Light, constant rainfall. Temperatures ranging from damned hot in the lowlands to biting cold in the high country. People avoided that area as non productive to farming or living a long life. Milliardo imagined that there were still pockets of difficult terrain that no one had managed to explore. Somewhere deep in that inhospitable land sat a crashed piece of terrorist equipment, and the ship that had been carrying it to a destination that had already been raided and taken out.
Leave it, had been Milliardo's recommendation to Commander Une. Why risk lives when the chances of anything having landed intact, or where anyone could salvage it, were almost nil? Almost, Une had replied angrily, and then she had called Milliardo lazy. That insult still burned even though he knew that it had been calculated to goad him into taking the mission. He was her best agent in the field, or off of it, and she knew it. His record was beyond reproach when it came to pure heroism and doing what it took to complete a mission.
So was Maxwell's, Milliardo thought as he checked, yet again, to make sure that the mystery device was still pinging the Preventer satellite. Though he hadn't, personally, worked with the man, he knew his reputation as well as his own. All of the ex-Gundam pilots were exceptional agents, which is why they rarely worked together. Une made certain that their abilities were spread out among the mission teams and used to best advantage. Maxwell, though, had been the only one that Milliardo hadn't personally seen since the end of the wars.
Deep mission expert, Milliardo read as he checked through the files of his agents. Maxwell took more undercover, more long term, imbedded, missions than anyone else. Jungles were his specialty. Only the big man, in the seat beside him, Hawkins, had nearly as much experience. Notes left by previous mission commanders were full of grudging respect, noting that even though unconventional, Maxwell was a natural leader and a dependable man to have on any mission.
Natural leader? Milliardo glanced up to study the man. He did seem to be completely asleep, chin on his chest. If he was such a natural, then why hadn't he at least tried for captain? He was still in the same position as when he had joined Preventers. Basic field agent. With his expertise and abilities, Milliardo couldn't see Une not forcing him to take at least a low level command title.
The rest of his team were veterans mixed with first mission newbies. Milliardo couldn't complain about any of them. Une was an expert at judging agents and Milliardo had never found any fault when she chose his teams. One newbie was impressive. Jean Levitz. Top of the line Preventer academy agent, she had an impressive record with many commendations from training staff. She also had an impressive lineage. Milliardo remembered that her father, and her grandfather had both been generals during the wars. She was definitely someone to rely on.
Milliardo glanced over at her. A tall, slim brunette, with a narrow face and hair cut short, she was sitting in her narrow seat, as if she were at attention, spit and polish, and eyes frowning ever so slightly at Duo Maxwell. She look as if she, like Milliardo, was finding it hard to deal with his insubordinate behavior.
The men and women around Jean were another matter entirely. Milliardo was very aware of the hero worship and awe that went hand in hand with being who they were. He, Milliardo, had earned his respect, the frightened, sometimes hateful attitudes that he often found in his agents. The Gundam pilots, he had found, were another matter entirely. People seemed willing to forget how much death and carnage they had dealt during the war, and were more than willing to elevate them to a status that would have better suited demi gods. It was in the looks, now, that the other agents were giving Maxwell. The man didn't need a command title, Milliardo thought sourly, those men and women were primed to follow any order that he cared to give.
Milliardo had been in that same position with Heero Yuy and Wu Fei Chang, but at least, in their cases, they had chosen not to take advantage of it. Both of them captains, they had still deferred to Milliardo's command automatically. There had never been a time when Milliardo had doubted that he would be the one giving the orders. With Maxwell, he didn't feel that assured. It made him determined to take a hard line with the man, to make him understand that Milliardo wasn't going to allow any second guessing or undermining of his command.
Duo jerked awake suddenly, hand going to his gun under his shirt with an ingrained reflex. He froze, though, eyes adjusting and brain taking in his surroundings. Milliardo saw him remember where he was and then he was relaxing and closing his eyes again. Milliardo hadn't missed everyone's sudden fear, including his own. He locked it down and said loudly, "That safety had better be on, Maxwell!"
"On," Maxwell said without opening his eyes.
"I doubt that," Hawkins grumbled.
"I don't lie, you know that," Duo snorted.
"On, can't be a lie," Hawkins protested. "It's just one word."
Duo, still without opening his eyes, took out his gun and held it up. The safety was on. He reholstered it and then made himself more comfortable.
"Stop acting like a shit, Maxwell," Hawkins growled, as if he could keep his voice low enough where Milliardo couldn't hear him. "A big dick isn't going to win you points with the commander."
Duo smiled. "Did with the last one."
"Acting like a dick won't either. Fly right, Maxwell," Hawkins demanded."I hate when you act like you have something to prove."
"I do," Duo said cryptically and then seemed to go to sleep again.
Hawkins gave Milliardo an apologetic look and Milliardo felt Hawkin's nervous respect for him.
Milliardo rubbed at his suddenly aching forehead and went back to studying his mission specs. At least they weren't up against a fighting force, he thought. Jungle terrain wasn't going to care about one man's attitude. Still, there were dangers inherent in any mission that included inhospitable country. A failure to follow commands could still kill a man.
That was the reason that Une had felt it necessary to pair Milliardo with Maxwell. Maxwell's loose cannon behavior might be excellent for one man, or even small team infiltrations, and search and destroy missions, but carrying out heavy equipment took planning and organization, something that Maxwell had proven, time and again, wasn't his forte. Milliardo would plan and implement. Maxwell was his jungle guide, his expertise in operating in those conditions paramount to carrying out the missions as much as Milliardo's careful planning. They needed to work together, Milliardo thought, not start conflicts before the mission was even underway.
It took long hours to reach the drop point. As the ship hovered over the one area that it had found clear enough to manage a drop, they were already suited up and loaded down with equipment and weapons. The bay door was open, the wind from the turbines buffeting them all strongly and the heat of the jungle rolling in along with it.
Milliardo checked each agent before slapping them on the back and allowing them to exit the jump ship. He kept Duo for last and the man was already grinning when he reached him, knowing what Milliardo intended.
"Hawkins was right," Milliardo shouted over the noise. When Duo looked confused he continued, "You have to have more than a big dick to impress me, agent. I expect you to follow orders and to pull your weight."
Duo's grin widened. "Are you sure, commander? You've been looking at my dick through the whole trip."
Milliardo reached for a strap buckle on Duo's harness and jerked it tight. It was intimately wedded to Duo's crotch. Duo gasped, bug eyed, as his privates were squeezed, before he was flailing as Milliardo shoved him out of the ship. Milliardo saw him land better than he had expected, and then he was joining his team on the ground.
tbc
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Power Trip