Whatever It Takes: Book1 Time of Choices

Book1 Whatever 04



 


Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of ChoicesPart 4 – Velvet Prison
Treize had found it hard to keep his mind off Zechs Merquise since
the day he had met the blond youth at the military base in Belgium. Sitting through yet
another boring meeting the general was checking out the newest information about on the
boy that Lieutenant Walker had send him.
The picture he was looking at now was much better than those that had been taken of Zechs
after his arrest. Treize studied the boy’s face thoroughly; long silvery strands of
blond hair framing a perfectly shaped face, crystal blue eyes partially hidden behind long
bangs, a high set nose and delicately shaped, thin lips. The boy was simply stunning. An
aura of nobility and pride surrounded him. Treize had no doubt that Zechs was turning
heads wherever he went.
The general had learned that the boy’s parents had been killed
in a car accident little more than a week before his arrest.
Zechs had grown up on an estate just outside of Brussels and had visited one of the most
expensive schools in the country, neither of which surprised Treize very much. There had
never been a question in his mind that the youth had been brought up in high society. His
father, a physician, owned a small private practice. Probably to continue some kind of
family tradition, Treize assumed. He couldn’t be sure though, because little was
known about the Merquise’ family history beyond the point when they settled down in
Brussels. That alone struck Treize as strange enough to have his aid investigate it
thoroughly. Maybe Walker would find something that could provide an explanation for
Zechs’ actions.
The general didn’t agree with the military’s theory that
the boy was working for some kind of underground rebel group. But there was something
about him, and Treize was determined to find out what it was.
"…General?!"
Realizing that he had been spoken to Treize jerked up his head and closed his computer
screen at the same time, feeling a little like a schoolboy who had been caught by his
teacher when he wasn’t paying attention.
"Something wrong, General Khushrenada?" Admiral Noventa asked.
"Forgive me, Admiral," the ginger blond man apologized. "I’m afraid my
mind just wandered off."

***
The two guards that took Zechs out of his cell were close-lipped
about where they were taking him. His guess was that they had finally realized that he
wouldn’t or couldn’t tell them any more than he already had. He assumed that
they would move him to a real prison, where they would throw him into just another cell
and toss away the key. To say he was scared would have been an understatement. He was
terrified. His interrogation officer had found perverted pleasure in describing to him
what his future was going to be like if he wasn’t going to cooperate.
To Zechs’ surprise it wasn’t a military transport waiting
for him at the runway, but a small private shuttle.
The guards prodded him aboard where a young Alliance officer was waiting.
"The prisoner, Lieutenant Walker."
Walker returned the salute then said:
"Thank you, that will be all. Leave the key for his
cuffs."
One of the guards handed the officer the card, turned on his heel
and left. The boy wasn’t sure if he should be surprised or insulted by the fact they
didn’t deem it necessary to give him more than a one-man escort. But then it
wasn’t like he would be going anywhere, not with that electronic bracelet they had
slapped in him earlier that morning. It was a thin, silvery, inconspicuous looking
circlet, yet it allowed them not only to trace every step he made via satellite, but they
also were able to set the perimeters in which he was allowed to move. If he was trying to
break through those boundaries the bracelet was designed to send an electric shock into
his nerve center strong enough to render the wearer unconscious. The same would happen at
the smallest attempt to temper with or remove the device.
"Sit down and strap yourself in." the officer ordered in Zechs’
direction." We will take off soon."
"Where are we going?" the blond asked as he fastened the
seatbelt.
"Luxembourg," the man answered in a tone that made it clear that he wasn’t
willing to give any additional information about their destination.
"Do all prisoners travel to jail in such style?" Zechs remarked sarcastically.
"Or is this only reserved for ‘personal friends’ of General
Khushrenada?"
"I’m not taking you to prison," Walker answered.
But I was right about the fact that this is Khushrenada’s shuttle, wasn’t I?
The blond grinned inwardly.
It was a short flight. Zechs spend most of the trip staring out of the window. The craft
touched down on a small private landing strip. A black luxury car was waiting for them.
A Mercedes-Benz Guard S500! The youth couldn’t help but let out a gasp at the
sight. That vehicle was a real classic. The last of them were made long BC (1). Otto, I
wish you could see this.
Zechs wished that he could take a look under the hood to see if the
engine had been rebuilt. Back in those days cars drove on something called gasoline. Zechs
and his friend had been fixing up a classic Viper and the biggest problem they encountered
had been switching it from gasoline to power cell without loosing too much of the way it
originally performed. But then, somebody who had the kind of money to buy a car like this
might also have the means on get his hands on real gasoline.
Zechs slapped himself mentally. Get a hold of yourself. You
should be worried about what will happen to you, instead of standing here and drool over a
car.
It was only a few minutes drive from the landing strip to the
entrée gate of a large estate.
Every part of the property, from the beautifully manicured garden to
the exquisitely decorated, Victorian style villa, indicated that the owner was a person
with a great amount of taste and an even greater amount of money. The car stopped in front
of a wide marble stairway leading to the main entrance of the manor. A servant dressed in
black trousers and a white jacket met them at the door. The man greeted them with a polite
bow as they stepped into the house.
"Lieutenant Walker, the general was called away for a meeting rather unexpectedly.
His Excellency asked me to take care of his guest while he is gone." If the butler
was surprised that his Excellency’s "guest" was wearing handcuffs he
didn’t show any indication of it.
Walker nodded. Pulling the cardkey out of his pocket he gave his prisoner a suspicious
look.
"They told you what that thing on your wrist does?"
Zechs nodded. They hadn’t just told him. "I was given a demonstration,"
he answered grimly.
"Then I suppose you know better than to try anything stupid." Walker ran the
card through the handcuffs, unlocking them and turned toward the butler. "He is all
yours, Max."
The man gave a curt nod as the Lieutenant departed then turned toward the youth.
"Let me show you to the room his Excellency had prepared for you."
***
The room was not very big, but still big enough not to appear
cluttered. It was furnished in a very efficient yet stylish way. A wide, very comfortable
looking, bed was standing against the wall to his right, a small lamp on each of the two
bedside tables. On the opposite side of the room stood a small table flanked by two
armchairs. A medium sized dresser and a small bookshelf completed the furnishing. The
pieces were antiques made from real wood, Zechs recognized, not just imitations made to
look like antiques. The place awakened painful memories of his home in him.
Swallowing hard, the youth pushed away the thoughts before they could overwhelm him. He
had not allowed himself to dwell upon them for the past four weeks and he wasn’t
going to start now.
Max, the butler, walked over to the large window opening the blinds to let the afternoon
sun pour in.
"Why am I here?" Zechs asked the man, somewhat concerned
about the fact that the general was showing so much interest in him.
" I’m afraid his Excellency chose not to tell me his
reasons for bringing you here. But he should be home soon and I’m sure he will be
answering all your questions when he gets here." Giving the blond youth a quick gaze
the man continued. " I suppose we should get you out of these clothes before he
arrives."
Zechs eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?"
"Forgive me, but…" The butler paused for a moment as he tried to put it as
polite as possible. "… I thought that you might like to take the opportunity to
change and clean up while you are waiting. Would you like me to draw you a bath,
Sir?"
Zechs, taking the hint, could feel his cheeks burn as he flushed in embarrassment. "I
think I would prefer a shower, if I could." he answered with as much dignity as he
could master.
The grey-haired man nodded.
"Of course. Your bathroom is right over there." He walked
over to open a door to the left of them. "Please make yourself a home. You should
find everything you need. If you excuse me, I shall be back with a change of clothes
shortly."
The man left and Zechs stepped into the small but elegant bathroom. A soft, white rug
covered the black marble flooring. The oval shaped bathtub/shower combination filled
almost a third of the room. A chrome sink was build into a cabinet made of white cherry
wood. Showerheads, towel holders and fixtures were made of chrome as well.
He turned on the shower, slipped out of his clothes and stepped under the jet. For the
longest time he Zechs just stood there, eyes closed, just enjoying the feeling of the hot
water running over his skin. Finally opening his eyes and looking around he found several
bottles of shampoo and soap on a shelf in the corner. He began to cleanse himself,
leathering his long hair several times before he was satisfied. He felt himself relax, as
if the water was washing away his worries along with the filth on his body.
When he finally stepped out of the bathroom, a fluffy, white towel wrapped around his
waist, he found that the butler had not only left a pile of garments on the bed for him
but also a plate with sandwiches and a glass of juice.
Zechs dropped his towel and started to dress. The legs of the dark gray cotton pants were
too long, the fabric pooling around his ankles. But at least they didn’t fall off his
hips. The white shirt hung loosely on him. He rolled up the sleeves half way to his
forearms.
For a moment the youth stared hesitantly at the sandwiches, feeling that he already had
accepted more than he should have from the man he considered an enemy. But he figured that
one couldn’t live on pride alone and that it was foolish to turn down a good meal. So
he sat down in one of the armchairs and ate.
When he was finished Zechs had to admit that he felt better than he had in a while and his
spirits had risen considerably. He flopped onto the bed, relishing its softness and
comfort. But then again, after a few weeks of sleeping on the ground, with nothing but a
military issued blanket between his body and the cold concrete, even a wooden park bench
would feel comfortable.
***
Max opened the car door for the general to exit and Treize gave the
man a curt nod.
"Welcome home, Sir. How was the meeting?" the butler asked politely.
Treize sighed. "Believe me, you really don’t want to know."
"I suppose I don’t," the butler agreed with a hint of a smile.
"Is he here?" the ginger blond man inquired eagerly as they walked toward the
mansion.
"Yes, your Excellency. He is waiting in his room. Do you want me to inform him of
your arrival?"
Treize shook his head. "Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. I’ll go up
myself."
He handed his cape and sword-belt to the servant before he went upstairs. He knocked then
opened the door to the room he had assigned for his blond "houseguest", not
expecting to find the boy asleep. Zechs was laying on the bed, dressed in a pair of pants
and a shirt that Treize recognized as his own, his head buried into one of the soft
pillows. The boy seemed peacefully relaxed, his long, silvery-blond hair pooled around his
head, covering part of his face and spilling onto the pristine white sheets. The general
stepped closer, fighting the urge to reach out and touch the boy’s lovely face.
Letting his eyes roam over the sleeping figure, the well-built body, long, slender legs
and perfectly shaped feet, Treize tried to imagine what the boy might look like in the
nude. As if reading his mind, Zechs stirred in his sleep and turned over onto his stomach.
The movement pushed up his shirt, revealing a few inches of soft, cream colored skin and
the beginning curves of two firm buttocks. What a positively delightful sight! Treize bit
down hard is bis bottom lip as he felt a prickling heat spreading in his groin.
Suddenly, as if realizing that he was being watched the blond bolted
upright, all signs of sleepiness gone from his startled eyes, as he stared up at the
ginger-blond man who stood only a few feet away, gazing at him with intense eyes. He
gasped and jerked back as far away from the general as he could get.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he growled in a mixture of shock and anger.

TBC
Author's notes:
(1) BC = Before Colony in this case

What's to come: Part 5 - Power Struggles
Zechs challenges Treize's authority
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