Author’s Note: Here it is. Hmmm, let’s see, warnings. Excessive drinking, violence, seduction, death, and Relena-bashing. Oh yeah, extremely confusing plot. In other words, just your plain old mob bit.

Disclaimer: *singing to the Alleluia Chorus* I~I don’t own them! I~I don’t own them! I don’t own them! I don’t own them! I do~n’t own them! And I can’t be sued forever and e~ver!

Puppetmaster

Kauri Yuuki

Chang Wufei leaned back in his chair, considering the latest proposition he had received. He gestured to his bodyguard and she glided over to his desk.

"Well, airen, what do you think of this?" Oh, did I forget to mention that his bodyguard also happens to be his wife, Meiran? Anyway, Wufei handed her the printout.

She glanced at it. "Seems worthwhile. Do we have any leverage?"

"Not yet." Wufei tapped his fingers together. "We will soon, though."

"Any catches?"

Wufei laughed. "That’s what I love about you. You can always see to the bottom of things." He turned serious. "But yes, we do. Don Heero of our Italian counterpart is also making a move for it."

"So what do you intend to do?" he wife asked.

"Play mahjongg."

"That’ll be good, maybe some of those old con artists will have something on this Winner guy."

Wufei grinned, sharklike. "That’s what I’m hoping for. Now go, we need to pull this off before Don Heero gets a whiff of it."

"Spoken like a true Don." Meiran leaned over and kissed him. "I’ll go see what our computer wizards can dredge up." She turned and walked out of the room. Wufei waited a few minutes before following her out.

He was in one of the numerous opulent but nondescript manors in Beijing, the current headquarters for the Dragon Clan, more commonly known as the Chinese Mafia. The Dragon Clan had held a stranglehold on the neck of the country, even a banishment of the entire clan had been averted. Wufei had come to his position as the head of the family through his marriage to Meiran, the only child of the old Don. When he had died, there was a brief squabble about the succession, but Wufei’s position and marriage (not to mention a few hired assassins) had put him on top of the heap.

Don Heero of the Italian Mob and Don Kauri of the Canadian Mob were the only two other Dons who had the manpower or the smarts to beat him. Don Kauri had formed an alliance with the Dragon Clan a few years back, soon after Wufei had taken over. Wufei had also sent envoys to Don Heero, but he had steadfastly refused all his proposals.

Wufei ruminated on the situation as he strolled through the broad hallways. He descended down several flights of stairs and emerged into a dimly lit corridor under the building. Despite Meiran’s odd answer to his mahjongg proposal, playing mahjongg was precisely what he was going to do. One of the Dragon Clan’s most valuable allies was one Ho Jane, a Red Princess* and organizer of a vast mahjongg gambling and extortion ring. Jane could get almost any information for Wufei, and the only payment she demanded was protection from the authorities.

Wufei knocked on a small, nondescript door almost hidden in the gloom.

"Who is it?" a voice called from inside.

"Wufei. I need your help." He replied.

There was the squeal of a chair being pushed back and a moment later, the door cracked open. Wufei stepped inside and a short Chinese woman closed it behind him. She returned to the small table in the center of the room where another woman was setting up mahjongg tiles.

"Join us, Wufei?" she asked amicably.

"Why not, Jane?" Wufei replied and took a seat at the table. He nodded to the two other players and the other cordially. Playing with Jane were Adam "The Stalker" Lin and Debs "The Devil" Lam, the one who had opened the door. Watching the play idly was Patreesh "Patreesh" Hizo-Abes. These three were the cornerstones of Jane’s operation.

"So, Wufei, what do you need help with?" Jane asked, her eyes intent on the game. "it must be something big if your own resources are strained."

"There’s a business deal in the works, but unfortunately we have a bit of competition." He replied.

"Oh, really? Who?"

"Don Heero."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"What have you got on Quatre Winner?"

"The young president of Winner Enterprises? I might have something. Who else is in the deal?"

"Don Kauri, but she’s allied to us."

"Come back tomorrow. I might have something for you then."

Wufei rose, about to leave, but Jane waved him back into his seat. "Sit. The game isn’t finished yet."

*****************************************

Don Heero paced his study. His agent should be arriving soon, with what promised to be valuable information. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in." Heero called, not glancing over. The man who walked through the door looked too young to be one of the Italian Mob’s most valued hitmen, but then again Heero wasn’t exactly aged himself. The newcomer flopped down in one of the squooshy chairs in front of Heero’s desk, his long chestnut braid flipping up behind him.

"So?" Heero growled.

"So what?" the assassin grinned lopsidedly at him.

Heero clenched his jaw and counted to ten before answering. "You knew what I meant, Duo. What is Wufei up to?"

"Wufei who?" Duo loved to infuriate his employer like this.

"Duo, answer me or I’ll turn you in."

"Hey, hey, hey! Let’s not be too hasty here. If you turned me, you’d have no one on the inside." Duo grin turned serious. "Let’s face it, Heero. Your intelligence service is diddly-squat next to Wufei’s. You need the FBI’s files, and to get them you need me."

"I know, I know!" Heero thumped the desk. "How the hell does he get his information?" Heero shook his head. "Nevermind. Just what is that, that schemer up to?"

"Ever heard of Winner Enterprises?" Duo replied.

Heero’s face paled. "No!"

Duo laughed. "Don’t worry, boss man. That young prez they got knows what’s coming. The FBI and INTERPOL, not to mention a few other agencies, leaked just the right amount of information to the right people. Big Shot Don Wufei is walking straight into a trap. By the end of this operation, the Dragon Clan will be no more." Duo grinned smugly.

"Yes!" Heero exulted, his eyes gleaming. "What can I do?"

"Keep your nose out of it." Duo’s eyes narrowed. "If you want this joint to keep running, stay away this case."

Heero pretended to consider. "I agree. Keep a low profile." He waved is hand, dismissing Duo. "Alright, go."

"Anything you say, boss man." Duo leapt up and sauntered out of the office. When he was gone, Heero leaned back smugly in his chair. Like hell I’m keeping a low profile, he thought. He pushed the intercom button and buzzed his secretary.

"Yes, sir?" The pleasant female voice replied.

"Get me the president of the UN. I have a deal for her…"

Duo listened from around the corner as Heero gave the order. Excellent, he thought. I knew I could count on Heero to be sneaky. This should muddy the waters a bit. Duo strolled off, whistling to himself.

(A/N: It just says that Duo is an FBI agent. It does not say he can’t be an undercover agent - but for who? Wait. Ewwwwwwwwww…….)

**************************

Quatre Winner, the young president of Winner Enterprises, frowned worriedly as he glanced over the dispatch he had received from INTERPOL. He glanced up at the agent who had delivered it, who stood impassively in front of the large desk, his one visible green eye watching the blonde man.

"So in order to disband this mafia, your operation is going to use my company for bait?" Quatre asked mildly, only his randomly changing eyes betraying his feelings about this plan.

"That’s correct, Mr. Winner."

Quatre passed a hand across his eyes wearily. "Please, Agent Barton, call me Quatre." He leaned forward. "And how does your organization propose to make sure this Don Wufei doesn’t get a hold of my company?"

"Master Quatre," a voice rumbled from the shadows behind his desk, making Agent Barton jump somewhat. "Do not worry. The Magnuac Corp. will make sure that your interests are protected."

"I’m sure you will, Rashid," Quatre smiled at him. "I was just wondering if Agent Barton here would have an answer for me." He turned back to the unibanged agent, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

Trowa coughed delicately. "We will have secret police in and around all aspects of your corporation. They should be enough to protect your interests, along with the Magnuac Corp., which we had figured into our plans from the start." A faint smile touched his face before retreating behind the fringe. "As well, one of the top FBI agents, one Duo Maxwell, has managed to infiltrate the headquarters of a rival mob. He estimates that only a bit more prodding would send Don Heero, head of said mob, to your rescue. We intend to nab them both."

Quatre nodded, realizing the merits of the plan. "Fine. I’ll play the bait." Trowa looked relieved, until a crafty glint came into Quatre’s eyes. "But," the blonde man said. "I have a few conditions…" The normally stoic pilot’s face paled as the young business man listed his demands.

***************************

A week later, Quatre and Trowa were seated around a large boardroom table as Trieze Kushranada outlined the entire plan for the defanging of the Dragon Clan, calling occasionally on his counterparts and co-conspirators, Zechs Merquise of MI6 and Lucrezia Noin of NATO for clarifications and explanations. When he brought up the acceptance of Quatre and his corporation’s, he smirked and sent Trowa up to the commander with the list of demands he had come up with. Trieze blanched slightly, blinked vigorous and cleared his throat.

"Your demands, Mr. Winner, will of course be taken into consideration -"

"I certainly hope so, Commander," Quatre replied smoothly. "You do want the Dragon Clan, do you not?"

"Why of course, Mr. Winner," Trieze returned just as smoothly. "I’m sure the request for an extra bodyguard can be approved. Mr. Barton, if you will."

Trowa’s eyes bulged. "That wasn’t in the demands we wrote up!" he exploded.

Trieze coolly raised an eyebrow. "Apparently things have changed. Mr. Winner asked specifically for you, Mr. Barton. Now, accept your duty or take a permanent leave of absence. Your choice."

Trowa swallowed a protest and nodded. Wonderful, he thought. Shepherding around some spoiled little brat of a businessman. Oh joy.

Trieze smiled. "Excellent. Now Mr. Winner, let me introduce you to the three agents we have handling the case. Ladies, if you please."

Three young women stepped forward from where they had been standing unobtrusively behind Trieze.

"These are Agents Peony Hottotrot, Yuelian Liu, and Leta Collins, codenames Kaminko, Prism, and Wyvern. For the duration of this project they will be referred to as such." As Trieze introduced each, they nodded their heads. "Now, Mr. Winner, we want you to hire these three. They will keep an eye on you. We are certain Wufei will approach you soon. Kaminko, Prism, and Wyvern will take over from there.

"We ask you to report any suspicious contacts to one of these three, Agent Barton, or his counterpart of the FBI, Duo Maxwell."

Duo stood briefly from his seat at the far end of the table where he had been watching , then sat down again.

"Do you understand, Mr. Winner?" Trieze asked cooly.

"Of course, Commander," Quatre replied. "I am to be babysat by these five until this Wufei shows his nose, then sit back and watch the carnage."

Trieze smiled. "Astute interpretation. I hope you take no offense."

Quatre waved a hand. "No, none at all." He stood up. "If we are finished here, I must be going. Prism, Wyvern, Kaminko, come by my office sometime today or tomorrow and I will arrange your placement. Mr. Kushrenada, Mr. Merquise, Ms. Noin, Mr. Maxwell, I hope to see you soon." He turned and strode out of the boardroom, calling back over his shoulder, "Coming, Mr. Barton?"

Trowa groaned inwardly and followed.

***************************************************

Interlude

Kauri: Hi, everyone reading this. I just have a few notes about what going on. First, the Red Princes and Princesses of China aren’t a figment of my diseased imagination. They’re the upper crust of Chinese society and some are notoriously criminal. (I’ve been reading a little too much Reader’s Digest…). Also, this fic may not be making much sense right now, but as soon as I get it all straightened out in my mind, the threads will start coming together. And I apologize in advance to all Relena fans. OK? OK. Keep reading! Enjoy!

*********************************************

In the Sanq capital, Queen Relena, ruler of Sanq and president of the UN was lying on her back in her garden, picking petals off a daisy.

He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me …. She pulled two petals out at the same time….not. There was only one left. He loves me! She held the now denuded flower to her chest and sighed happily.

He loves me, Heero really loves me. Why else would he call me? When he had called, she had said she’d ‘consider it’. She would do anything for him…..

"Pargan!" she called, sitting up.

Pargan jumped out of a rosebush nearby. "Yes, Miss Relena?"

"Get the phone, will you, and bring it out here."

"Yes, Miss Relena." Pargan executed a flying leap over the rosebush and was back in two seconds with a pink cell phone.

"Here, Miss Relena."

"Thank you, Pargan. And get some Polysporin and some Band-Aids. You look pretty scratched up."

"Yes, Miss Relena." Pargan jumped over the rosebush again.

Relena dialed a number, then waited.

"Hello, dear Quatre-sama! Fine, yourself? That’s wonderful! Well, the reason I called was that I was thinking about you today – you too? How sweet! Anyway, we haven’t seen each other in simply ages. I was wondering if you’d like to come over for tea sometime this week – you would! Excellent! When would be good for you? Wednesday? Perfect! See you then. Bye-bye, Quatre-sama!"

Relena disconnected before dialing another number. "Heero-kun! Yes, I’ve talked to him...."

**********************************************

Somewhere in a bar, three tipsy ladies were starting on their second round of Molson Canadian.

"Girls, don’t you think we should be getting on with our mission?" one of the said.

"Nah," another replied. "Barton and Maxwell’ve got it covered. We’ll just finish off these and go check in."

"Sounds good to me," the third one said, taking a long pull.

**********************************************

Wufei, meanwhile, had been busy. Jane had managed to dredge up a few things for him – for one, he knew now that Quatre had a bodyguard, but from all reports was hell-bent on seducing the poor fellow. Jane had also found out that Quatre was invited to the UN president’s on Wednesday for tea, a fact backed up by Meiran’s efforts. Meiran had also found out that there were five agents assigned to the Winner boy; the bodyguard, an FBI fellow by the name of Maxwell, and three onna agents whose whereabouts were currently unknown, even to their employers.

A further windfall had come in the form of a mysterious visitor, who claimed to know abut the movements of Quatre, and more importantly about Don Heero’s movements. Wufei received him in his most impressive office, the dark red plush carpet deeply embroidered with images of Chinese dragons in gold thread complementing the dark rosewood desk and chairs, upholstered in the same pattern as the floor. The visitor seemed entirely unawed, flouncing in with a careless abandon, chestnut braid trailing behind him (A/N: Who did you expect? Relena?).

Wufei invited him into one of the plush chairs in front of the large rosewood desk, observing him keenly. The secret of his identity was revealed almost immediately, when he announced, "Wufei, I presume? Duo Maxwell, FBI, at your service."

Wufei's eyes widened slightly at this revleation, but cool composed his features. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Mr. Maxwell? I've not much occasion for a man of your profession to call upon me."

Duo laughed. "We both know that they should," he replied, leaning forward. "But I don't care shit about my FBI superiors. They ain't the ones calling the shots."

"And who is calling the shots?" Wufei asked casually.

Duo grinned wolfishly. "That's for me to know and you never to find out. Now, I've got some information for you. The question is, how much are you willing to pay to get it?"

Wufei grinned slightly. "How about your life, American wiseass?" Duo immediately tensed up, glancing around the room. "Oh, you can't see them," Wufei continued. "But they're definitely there."

Duo settled back in his chair, eyes hard. "Fine. I can see your point. Here's the deal. Quatre's heading for Relena's for tea this Wednesday,"

"I know that," Wufei snapped.

"Fine, chill," Duo replied, holding up his hands. "Did you know that Don Heero has no clue what's going on?"

Wufei leaned forward, instantly interested. "No, tell me more."

"In fact," Duo replied. "He's at the spa that day.”

Wufei allowed himself a grin. “Excellent. Now that we know his whereabouts, we can keep an eye on him. Thanks, Mr. Maxwell.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” the American drawled, standing up and stretching. “Good doin’ business with ya. Gimme a shout if my talents can come in handy. Here’s my cell number.” He tossed a business card on the desk and sauntered out of the office. Wufei picked it up idly and flicked it through his fingers, in deep thought for a moment. Snapping out of his reverie, he said out loud, “Meiran!”

The unobtrusive wife-cum-bodyguard melted out from the wall where she had been standing impassively throughout the interview. “Yes, airen?”

“Gather up a team for Wednesday. Make it twenty of the best, at least. Brief them to not harm the business man or the onna. She could be useful in the future.”

“Yes, airen.” Meiran turned to go.

“Oh, and Meiran?” Wufei called after her. “Make sure we send a bottle of wine or something to Jane.”

**************************************

Outside of the Dragon Clan complex, a brown-braided American ducked into a secluded alley, pulling out a small cell phone and hurriedly dialing a number.

“Yes, patch me through to Heero.....Of course I have clearance, you idiot......Fine, I’ll hold, but make it snappy.” Duo secretly loved bossing people around. “Yes, Hee-man. Yup, I planted the spa story. Yup, don’t worry. Wufei’s running off to that ambush you set up on the mining colony. Okay, see ya.”

Disconnecting, Duo just as quickly dialed another number. “Yeah, Boss, I got em both......”

*****************************************

Somewhere, in that same unknown bar, the same three ladies had finished their fifth of Canadian and were branching out into shooters.

“Weren’t we shupposhed to be doing shomeshing?” One of them slurred.

Another frowned. “I don’t shink sho”

The third said, “Yeah, watshing shomeone.”

“Yeah!” the first one agreed

“Who?” the second demanded

The third one frowned in concentration. “Shomebody named...... Four!”

“Four?” the second one asked.

The first one shrugged. “Guess not. Another round, ladies?”

*****************************************

Two days later (Wednesday)...

Heero grinned as he shifted his position. He was staked out with twenty of his operatives plus the multiple-agent Maxwell in the large rose garden attached to the Sanq Kingdom royal palace. Quatre had been observed disembarking the shuttle to Earth and disappearing into a pink limo. Heero was waiting here for him to arrive, just beyond the small gazebo were Relena was placidly sipping tea. Heero hoped the ditzy semi-blonde wouldn’t disclose his presence too early.

Duo sidled up to the brooding chocolate-haired mob boss. “Hee-man, I’m gonna take a look around. Reconnaissance, y’know?”

Heero sighed. “Fine. And don’t call me Hee-man.”

“Whatever, Hee-man,” the impertinent American said as he disappeared into the maze of rosebushes.

The American multiple-agent made his way around the gazebo clearing, making sure to shake off any followers by a few leaps over low-lying bushes, to where Wufei and his operatives were in hiding. The disgruntled Chinese man snapped at his appearance.

“Finally, Maxwell. When is this onna’s guests arriving?”

Duo held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Chill, Wu-man. Soon. But here.” Duo passed him a small walkie-talkie. “Wait for my signal before you make your move.”

A movement in the garden caught their attention. From their hiding spots, both Heero and Wufei heard the anti-Christ servant announce, “Your guests have arrived, Miss Relena.”

“Excellent, Pargan. Please show them in,” Relena replied “genteelly”, which sounded more like cats clawing their way up a chalkboard.

Duo grinned and muttered, “That’s my cue. Remember, wait for my signal.” The braided American melted into the rosebushes before Wufei could protest. Instead, he grumbled to himself, and then addressed an order to Meiran. “Get the men ready. Let’s make this quick.”

Across the garden, Heero was tensing up for an attack as soon as the business man poked his nose in sight. Duo appeared out of seemingly nowhere. “Wait,” he hissed. “We have to time this right.”

Heero balked at the order, but obeyed it, knowing Duo knew far more about this Quatre’s movements than he did. Just then, the blonde in question appeared, hauling along a tall brown-haired man who looked like a one-eyed deer caught in the headlights, holding tightly to his hand. Relena smiled and gave a little wave as the two made their way towards the gazebo. When the business man and his bodyguard were about half-way across the open stretch of grass, directly in front of both Heero and Wufei, Duo raised a small walkie-talkie to his mouth, but his command was directed to both mob bosses.

“NOW!”

Like lightening, both forces leapt over the rosebushes, their respective bosses heading them up. In a surprising feat of agility, Quatre leapt backwards and did a double somersault, narrowly avoiding the crunch as Heero and Wufei came face to face. He hauled Trowa with him. The agent looked extremely surprised, not only by the turn of events but also by the fact that Quatre was clearly expecting this. A hand clamped across his face, and the cloying scent of chloroform filled his nose. His world went black.

Meanwhile, Heero and Wufei ground to halt, almost nose to nose. Their eyes narrowed, and each uttered a snarl as they went for the jugular.

Seeing her husband was other wise occupied, Meiran rapped out a quick order. “Forget about the blonde! Go for that bastard’s men!”

As her men moved to carry out the order, guns at the ready, a high-pitched scream rent the air. Relena had risen in her chair and gone pale at the sight of her beloved Heero under attack. With a snort of disgust, Meiran swung her gun up to point at the terrified Queen. A single shot rang out and a great many people’s problems were resolved.

While the two mobs were killing each other, the bosses were rolling around on the ground, Relena was slumped in her chair, Quatre was holding up the limp form of his bodyguard-cum-lover. Duo ran up to him.

“Q-man, what’s with Barton?”

Quatre shrugged. “I like him, Duo. I’m sure the Boss won’t mind him as spoils of war.”

Duo grinned. “Sounds good to me. Let’s get going.” Raising his voice, he called, “Hey, Meiran, you coming?”

She yelled back, “No, I’ll stay here. When my Wufei is finished kicking the crap out of Heero, I’ll clean up and bring him back. Spoils of war, y’know.”

Duo shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Bending down, he grabbed Trowa’s legs. He and Quatre quickly carried the unconscious man to the waiting car that Quatre had arrived in. They set him in the back, head on Quatre’s lap, and Duo jumped in the front, zooming away from the Sanq Royal Garden.

When Heero tired, Meiran jumped in, clubbing him across the back of the head. After a moment of consideration, she clubbed her husband as well. Calling her men away from the plunder of the Italian men they had put down, Meiran turned and strode away to the waiting helicopters. Loading the two unconscious mob bosses into one, she left orders that the surviving men would report back to headquarters for medical attention and rest. With that, she hopped into the Lynx and took off.

***************************************

Three days later, in a secret mobile suit hangar under an obscure summer camp in Eastern Canada....

Duo, Quatre, and Meiran stood impassively before a large desk, their three captives conscious, gagged, and tied to the chairs they sat on behind them. The form in the desk chair leaned forward, intensely interested as Quatre made the official report.

When it was finished, a feminine laugh rippled out of the darkness. “Excellent,” it purred. “You three did beautifully. And I trust you have the authorities sufficiently under control, Duo?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Duo replied. “All wrapped up with a bow on top.”

“Excellent,” she said again, eyes glinting. “Meiran, you now have control of your operation. I’m sure Wufei will completely support you.”

Wufei grunted through his gag, eyes wide. Meiran laid a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, I’m perfectly sure he will.” She said, tightening her grip so that he winced.

The shadowy boss laughed. “I can see you’ve got that all worked out.” She turned to Heero. “And I’m sorry, my esteemed colleague, but your organization will have to be dissolved. You’re entirely too dangerous. Your men will be made part of my outfit, after proper training, of course.”

Heero’s eyes narrowed at the implication that he didn’t train his men properly.

The Boss continued. “Tsuki gets you.” She turned her attention to Quatre. “Excellently played, my friend. What plans do you have?”

Quatre glanced at the green eyed man behind him. “I might take a little sabbatical from my work. Other than that, nothing really. I’ll continue to support your work, of course.”

“Wonderful,” she said warmly. “I do hope you make him happy. There’s a lovely little bed and breakfast on the Island whose owners owe me a few favours.”

Quatre’s eyes glowed. “PEI? We’d love to! Wouldn’t we, Trowa?”

Trowa’s features had taken on the deer-in-the-headlights look that almost always appeared when confronted by Quatre. He made a muffled protest, silenced by Quatre’s hand over his mouth.

The Boss laughed again. “Ah, young love. Well, that’s it. I’ll be in touch. Duo, please deliver Tsuki’s prize to her.”

Duo smiled and hauled Heero up, frog-marching him through the door. Meiran similarly hauled her husband up, nodding deferentially to her boss as she left for the helipad.

“Oh, Quatre, until you can make the nessecary arrangements for you vacation, you can have full run of the compound.” The Boss added as he prepared to leave.

Quatre smiled. “Thanks, Kauri, but I doubt I’ll be leaving my room.”

FIN