Author's Note: I know what you guys are thinking: "It's about damn time!" Well, let's just say that life got in my way and I had to take of school first before I could seriously devote time to writing Prodigy. However, I'm not an author who's going to leave you hanging so here at last is the beginning of part three. New characters will be introduced, some not so new characters show up again, and unlike Progeny, which was the intrigue part of this, there will be a hell of a lot more people dying this time around. Maybe not in this chapter but in future ones, you'll see. Enjoy, you know you want to.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.

Warning: language

Dawn of a New World Order

The setting sun created a sinister backdrop as one looked upon the majesty that was Washington D.C., capital of the last remaining superpower on Earth. The seat of power that held the most politically powerful person on the planet looked more like a graveyard of marble and concrete than it did of the beautiful splendor it had once possessed only mere days ago.

Watching the city through a pair of binoculars, the renegade General Keppel glared at the city with disgust. Things had changed so drastically in less than a few days that the general could hardly believe that he was standing where he was now.

Septum was in control now, there was no doubt about that. The man had shown up one day with two strange boys and then had proceeded in murdering all the elected officials, from the House of Representatives and Senate to the White House itself. Keppel knew for a fact that Septum had terminated the current president and had taken over the government soon after in his coup d' tat. Septum had yet to inform the rest of the nation about this and even though there would be an uproar about it, the General knew that the American public wouldn't really do anything about it.

It had only been luck that he had been late to that meeting in the Pentagon and had heard about Septum's actions there. Taking a battalion of his own loyal men, he had taken to the hills outside of the city where he made camp and waited for the next opportunity to oust Septum.

The coup was more than likely complete by now, that is if the Supreme Court had also been eliminated. The only thing that kept Septum from his complete dominion was a 200 year old piece of paper on which this country had been founded on.

It had been a good thing that he had "appropriated" the Constitution and had taken it with him and his men during their escape. This document was the only hope they had now to rally against Septum and his mysterious, young allies. The problem would be to ignite the spirit of revolution that had created the United States of America into the people again and he had little to no idea of how to do that.

It could be said that Keppel was a man of action and even though he had a significant amount of intelligence to use, trying to getting the citizens to rise up against Septum seemed near impossible.

But he wasn't about to throw in the towel yet. He would have to wait and coax the fires of the American spirit before any major action could be taken.

And that was something he would do until the day he died.

---

Quatre Winner was a person known for his patience. It was extremely rare if he ever lost his temper.

Over the past couple of days, his renowned patience was being put to the limit until he could be seen stomping down the hallways in the foulest of moods one had ever seen him in. But what was the cause for this sudden change in personality in the charismatic Winner heir?

Jason fucking Ciliars, that's what!

Sure, this Jason was incredibly important when it came to figuring out the secrets of Project Maxwell but he was thus far…uncooperative. And that was the nicest word the blond used.

It also didn't help that Jason kept calling him a girl or a lesbo whenever Quatre would try to "interview" him. He was not a girl, damn it!

It was such a good thing that the complex had a gym in it; otherwise, the blond might let his steam off in an unproductive manner unbecoming of someone of his status.

In fact, it was after cleaning up from one of these workouts that he received a call from his father. He had been expecting that his old man was inquiring about his progress with Jason but was taken by surprise when he was told something else.

According to some sources, something was up in Washington and with the descriptions of a couple of the occurrences going on there, the Winner heir was sure that Project Maxwell was somehow involved. However, in order to confirm his assumption, he was going to have to consult…ugh…Jason again.

"Hey girly-man!" he was greeted as he entered the cell in which the dark-haired boy resided. "You're back early! Can't get enough of me, can you?"

Quatre clinched his teeth but refrained from losing his temper. He had more important things on his mind and he couldn't let his anger spoil this latest session. By God, he was going to need some therapy after this, or at least anger management.

"I'm not here for idle chitchat," he said as he sat down on a short stool. "Something's come up and I believe that it involves some of your old friends back at XAI."

"Oh really?" Jason snarked, rolling his eyes. "Why don't you pull my other leg?"

Ignoring this jab, the blond said, "I've heard of stuff at the capital of some weird things, one involving fire and another water. Tell me, who do you know can use those?"

"Fire, yeah right," Jason scoffed. "Mobias was the only guy who could use fire and I saw him get smashed into itty bitty pieces."

"Not according to what I know," Quatre challenged. "Who else can make people blow up into flames other than this Mobias?"

About to retort, Jason hesitated, as if a sudden thought had occurred to him. "Blow up you say?" he inquired. Getting a nod, he mumbled, "Sounds like Rex to me."

"Who's Rex?" Quatre asked. "What can he do?"

Looking a bit startled, Jason scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. "That's none of your business, girly-man."

Irritated, Quatre replied, "Fine then, no meals for you."

"What?" Jason said, blinking owlishly at the blond.

"You heard me," Quatre said as he got up and began to leave the cell. "No food for you until you begin cooperating."

Air rushed around the blond and he found that he could no longer move. Struggling with his uncooperative body, he heard Jason speak up back from where he sat on his cot.

"You really think you can threaten me like that? Pfft," the boy scoffed. "I could kill you right now, you know, before any of your sissy guards can come in to rescue you. In fact, I could've left a long time ago."

"Then why haven't you?" Quatre questioned, proud that his voice hadn't wavered in fear even though he was panicking in his mind.

"Safer here," Jason replied, letting go of the blond and laying down on his cot. "Two-eyes can't find me here and I don't feel like dieing anytime soon."

"And what makes you think Xavien'll be after you?" Quatre asked, slowly turning around to face the other boy.

"Same reason he's after Solo and his shadow," Jason shrugged. "We've practically destroyed a state chasing after those two, ya know."

"Tying up loose ends?" Quatre summarized questioningly. "Sounds like his style but what about Washington?"

"Who?" Jason deadpanned.

"Washington D.C.," Quatre reiterated. "You know, the capital of the United States?"

"Whatever," Jason shrugged. "Don't really care about it."

Huffing, Quatre crossed his arms. "I meant about the two guys in Washington, the ones with the powers."

"What about them?"

"I was hoping you could give me some insight into all this," Quatre spoke, gritting his teeth together.

"And you think I know?" Jason finished off. "Please. I don't even know half the mumbo jumbo that went on there. All I do know is that I got stuck with a lot of needles and shocked a lot of times. Next thing I know, I can do this!"

A blast of wind threw the blond off his feet but, luckily, Quatre was able to land on his feet. Those gymnastics lessons were reason paying off here. Jason, however, just looked bored and hadn't even turned his head to watch the blond flail in the air. For some reason, that annoyed Quatre even further.

"Surely you know something…" he prodded.

Jason remained silent for minutes on end, not saying a word. For a minute, Quatre doubted that he was even awake, at least until Jason spoke up suddenly. "There was this guy at a church. He knew about what happened, too much really. He even mentioned that name, Xavien, and that he would be glad to get his hands on him."

"Do you know where this church is?" Quatre asked, his hopes rising.

"Maaayyyybeeeeee," Jason drawled out.

Recognizing this tone of voice, Quatre knew better than to push ahead. Jason wasn't going to do anything other than insult his masculinity, something he was not thrilled to experience again. Turning on his heel, he left the cell, slamming the door shut with a bang. He got a tiny bit of satisfaction from getting a glimpse of the boy looking surprised at the door, clearly expecting for the blond to push the topic further.

But some good did come out of this; there was someone else out there with intimate knowledge of Project Maxwell, someone more than likely to be more cooperative than Jason. He'd need to report back to his father though and get an update as to their next move. With everything seemingly spiraling out of control as they were, the two men needed to plan what they were going to do next and how they could profit from this change in events.

---

"Can you believe this?!" Dorothy demanded. "He left us here! He left!"

"Can't you keep it down, Dorothy?" Relena whined. "You're hurting my head."

"Well excuse me!" Dorothy snapped before sighing. "Sorry about that, I'm just too pissed off. After all this time, I didn't think he would just abandon me—er, us like this. He didn't even stick around to say goodbye or anything!"

"He's Solo," Relena sighed. "What else would you expect from him?"

Dorothy paused and started to think about it. When she did answer, "You know, now that you mention it, I'm wondering why he hadn't done it sooner. Still, I'd like to shove my foot up his ass!"

"He probably wouldn't even feel it," Relena groused, not willing to muster up the energy to debate with her best friend. Dorothy was all she had left now, especially after what had happened to Heero…

It still hurt to think about the love of her life, even now…

Dorothy frowned at this blatant action of submission but did nothing to try and provoke her friend into reacting. To tell the truth, it would've been a waste of energy, something neither of them could afford right now.

Speaking of right now, the two girls were still in the midst of ruined downtown Los Angeles, trapped by the chaos that had taken root in the streets as looters and rioters trashed everything in sight. It was a fortunate thing that the girls were still in the same building that Solo had ditched them in; the place was still under construction and held no value to anyone. They only ventured out when there were lulls in the violence down below and only to get their hands on some food to stay alive. Otherwise, the clothes on their bodies were slowly becoming rags and it had been some time since either had had a shower of had access to some make-up.

Truly, they looked terrible and they both knew it.

The buzzing of helicopters in the air soon followed by the soft hissing of tear gas canisters fall down into the streets could be heard by the girls but neither took notice of it. This ploy had been tried hundreds of times by the National Guard and it hadn't had any kind of affect other than to piss off the people in the streets.

Hearing the sound of gunfire as soon one shot at a nearby helicopter only confirmed them, the screaming of people following instantly as people realized that one of them was armed and potentially dangerous.

It was just a vicious cycle of violence down there but Dorothy knew that they needed to get out of here as soon as possible. Their luck could only hold up for so long and it was only a matter of time before their building was invaded. Chances were great that when they were found, rape would be a certainty.

The tree that they got a good look at every day wasn't helping matters either, not that it had in the first place. At first, there had been attempts to cut the thing down or gnaw off of it for firewood by the people down below. The tree had retaliated, at first destroying only the tools that the people attempted to use before taking it a step further and actually killing the would-be perpetrators.

Needless to say, it was the only thing in the city that got quite a wide berth of space and was left alone.

None of that helped Dorothy or Relena one bit and time was turning against them as things became more and more anarchic.

"We gotta get out of here," Dorothy sighed as she took a seat next to Relena.

"But we can't," Relena murmured back. "It'd be suicide. We'd be surrounded by a bunch of creeps, raped and killed the moment we left this place."

"Sooner or later they come to us," Dorothy voiced this thought. "Either way, the results the same. The army can't get control over the city and the creeps out there aren't going to stop doing what they're doing. Time's running out."

"How could Solo ditch us here?" Relena sighed. "The least he could've done was take us out of here before leaving us."

"And we're right back where we started, huh?" Dorothy commented.

An explosion in the distance filled the lull in conversation as both girls contemplated their options. Damned if they stayed, damned if they left. No matter what they did, they were screwed.

And not in the good way either.