engine, opened the door, and jumped out- then looked again. Still odd. Something was off, but whatever it
was eluded him. So he waited for Rude to get out, and then asked. “What about that looks weird to you?”
he said slowly, still hoping to figure it out before he finished the sentence.
Rude, ever observational, didn’t even need to think about it. “The doors been shot off it’s hinges,” he said
simply, “usually when people raid a place they just kick it in.”
Reno nodded slowly, calmly drawing his gun from its holster and cocking it, kicking one of its three dozen
hollow points easily into the chamber. He waited for Rude to do the same- different gun, different type and
number of bullets, same arming action. They walked side by side up to the door, poking their guns through
the blasted opening in the door, and sending their heads following suit a moment later. The front office, at
the very least, was empty.
“What the fuck...” Reno muttered slowly, eyes slowly tracing the familiar and memory filled items that now
lay shattered into pieces at their feet. The desk his little sister and Gabriel always seemed to be sitting at was
barren except for the computer, apparently something that was too heavy for whoever had done this to dash
to pieces on the floorboards. He gave only a fleeting glance over the desk and then followed Rude out of the
room, the two of them treading slowly down the hall, weapons at the ready.
For a moment that was almost gone as quickly as it began, Reno wondered if this might be a trap. An instant
after that moment, the door to their left flew open, and out burst a dark and unrecognizable figure. The two
men in blue quickly pointed the business end of their weapons at its head, and prepared to blow away
anything remotely threatening about it, but their efforts seemed to be a moot point. It hovered still for a
moment, and then collapsed.
“Tseng!” Rude, who had been speaking up less and less these days, and honored the situation by actually
screaming on this occasion. He dropped to his knees next to their leader, and Reno followed him down a
moment later, helping him turn the man over and ease him onto his back. “Jesus Christ...” Rude muttered,
and Reno had to agree with him.
While there didnt appear to be anything fatal inflicted onto their mentor, he’d been beaten in a way so
thorough it could only be called professional. The two blackened eyes seemed to have been inflicted the
tradional way- simple pummeling, instead of the current overly rushed method of breaking the nose. That, of
course, meant that the nose had to have been broken afterwards, because the blood running down his upper
lip and onto his chin had to have come from somewhere.
Though awake, Tseng remained speechless, but spoke up before Reno checked to see if his tongue had been
cut out. “I’m wondering,” he said slowly, “which one of you two who are hovering over me like you’re
about to steal my wallet, is looking behind you to see if the guys who jumped me are waiting behind you
with any variety of weapons.”
Eyes suddenly widening in realization, Rude and Reno let go of the mans shoulders and spun around,
leveling their weapons at what turned out to be open air. The emptiness of the proximity reassured to both
of them, they turned back around, once again facing their wounded leader who they’d just blatantly dumped
on the floor. He was shaking his head slowly, despite the evident pain it caused him. “
“You two really need to learn to split up your actions, or one of these days your going to give a hooker one
hell of a limp. Now help me up.”
The shot to their professionalism aside- they were used to it, after all- Reno and Rude quickly hooked an
arm under each of Tseng’s arm pits and hauled him slowly to his feet, and when he got their, propped
against the wall. He leaned back, breathing hard, apparently unaware or uncaring of the blood that was still
trickling down his face. “Six guys,” he said, “used to be ten. They grabbed Elena. Drug her to the back. Go.
Help. Now!”
Concerned for their mentors current state, but more so worried about their comrades peril, the two men
charged down the hall way and burst through the door, ready to blow away the first thing they saw that even
looked like it might have ill intentions towards the blonde Turk. Instead, the only thing moving seemed to be
Elena herself, who was sitting calmly on the floor, her head propped against a desk, tied up tightly but
seemingly unharmed. Though blindfolded, she’d obviously heard them enter, and tensed up accordingly.
Lying at the entrance of the door, so the two had to step over it, was the frequently stabbed body of a
random man in a red uniform. The largest amount of blood seemed to be very closely located to a very
sensitive area, so Reno just had to guess Elena had made a very poignant point on why they’d be keeping
anything they were packing inside their clothes. “I guess this means there are five left,” Reno said slowly,
and then spoke again in case Elena hadn’t recognized him.
“Hey girl. You look like you could use some help, or a ball gag. Unfortunately, I don’t know where we
could find the camera. Hold on...” Reno joked when scared, and right now he was almost at the point of
screaming. This was the final room in the small building that the Turks had bought with the suit case of gil
they’d been given from the status abdicating Rufus over two years ago, and his sister was no where to be
seen.
Reno slowly undid the blindfold while Rude produced a long hunting knife and set to work slicing the bonds,
and the second both of those things were gone the formerly docile Elena exploded up to her feet as if she’d
been sitting on an ant hill.
“Where are they!? Where are those fucking... fuckers!?” she cried, too frustrated to even come up with a
proper insult. She stalked around the room in a small circle, until coming fully around to face them again.
“Well!?” she damanded.
With a shrug, Reno pointed at the corpse that was currently cluttering the floor. “There’s one of them.
Tseng took four out in the filing room. Other than that, we were hoping you could tell us.”
Elena shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea,” she said, voice filled with loathing.
“Ok, didn’t really care,” Reno said, with sudden urgency in his voice. “Rory? Gabriel?”
Elena took a deep breath, apparently wondering exactly how to phrase what she said next. “I still have no
idea, but I’m pretty sure that it’s the same place as ‘them’, whoever the fuck ‘they’ were. Besides
impendingly fucking dead.”
Rude took a step back, a quick attempt to back up from whatever impending explosion that was ready to
burst forth from Reno’s body. Instead, his red haired work mate simply seemed to deflate, the breath rushing
out of him like a popped balloon. He dropped down into a crouched position, clutching his unkept hair, and
hissing out any remaining breath through tightly clenched teeth.
“Ok.” He said. “Ok. Are you all right, Elena?”
“As good as ever.” Elena replied with a shrug.
“Good. Now. Go help Tseng get that way, I’m sure we have a Cure Materia here somewhere that will patch
up most of his problems. Rude, C’mon, were looking for clues.” Reno said it all in a single breath, exhaling
the words in a rush so he wouldn’t have to scream them. Rude and Elena recognized instantly the tone of the
Reno who had tried in vain to replace Tseng after Sephiroth had cut him down in Mideel, but decided not to
call him on it. They did have, after all, a situation.
It took Reno a few more minutes to stand up, and until he managed it, Rude was harboring serious worries
that he was going to start hyperventilating. However, when he stood, he seemed to be basically under
control, and marked out of the room with a purpose. Wondering inwardly why they weren’t looking for
clues in the room they *knew* the men had taken time in, Rude simply glanced around quickly and then
followed him.
They made a bee-line for the lobby, and Rude knew instantly why they hadn’t searched the back room- Reno
was far more concerned about the current state of his sister than finding out what men had managed to bust
into their office. On a personal level, he couldn’t blame him, but he’d never really had much of a personal
level, so it was with an even frown that he joined his parter. By the time he got there, Reno had already
found what he was looking for- a message.
The computer monitor, the one thing level whole and standing on the desk, and basically in the entire room,
had its word processor open. The cursor still blinking expectantly for input, lay at the end of a short, but
right to the point message. It was very revealing, and very, very confusing at the same time.
“We have a job for the Turks. The assignment: Take a vacation. Do not get involved. The payment: You get
your secretaries back.”
The two of them stared silently at the message for a long time, trying to piece it together. Finally, with an
almost uncaring shrug, Reno ripped his pistol from its holster and fired just once into the monitor, blowing it
to smoking pieces, and eradicating any trace there had ever been of a message.
“So.” He said, returning his weapon and turning to Rude with a cool gleam in his eyes. “Looks like we have
something we need to get involved in.”
***
He’d been travelling a lot lately. Not that he’d ever really enjoyed travelling, but it had seemed to become an
almost constant in his life, so he’d gotten used to it. Three years ago, he’d always been travelling for his job.
There was always some parade he had to go to, some territory dispute he needed to settle. There are always
some contract that, for some reason, he needed to go to the site of its writing to sign. That always lent itself
to interesting times when the order was for mako ignition capsules to be dropped on a certain town or field,
where he would mingle with the people just days before Shin Ra clean up crews would be mopping them off
the remnants of their homes with sponges.
After that, there was the small matter of having to save the world. He hadn’t really been a fan of the idea,
but that’s how redemption goes, if you ever want to be at peace with yourself you need to do at least as
many good things as you do bad. His ‘bad’ deeds, of course, being taking the practical way to keeping the
planet warm and the talented fed. So he didn’t cater to the poor and the wear, it wasn’t his fault they’d
dropped out of school or chosen pot over studying. The Planet had tried existing under a Communist regime
once- it had failed, and he had no intent of bringing it back.
But he wanted peace, and he wanted undisturbed sleep. So he’d gone along with them, around the world
and under the ocean, fetching weapons, saving lives, and all the while drawing dark and suspicious looks
from men and women everywhere. They’d won, but for months afterwards, rumors and speculation ran
rampant about conspiracy, socery, government lies. His picture, dug up from archives, had once again
graced newspapers... but eventually, the rumors had died down, like those that happen to be true so often
do.
And that had lead to the travelling of the earlier year. He’d had nowhere to go, after the fall of Hojo. What
was he supposed to do, pull a Napolean, the returning emperor sneaking into France and rallying an army?
He’d last an even shorter amount of time than the aforementioned general would, because he’d have been
killed by his own people. It wasn’t as if he could come bringing promises of better times, many considered
the times much better now than when Shin Ra was in control.
So he’d walked the world, more or less. The slops of Icicle Inn, the mountains of Nibelheim, the hills of
Wutai and the as yet unrepaired wreckage of a place that was once called Mideel, and was now simply called
a ‘disaster area’, by the people who were now in a position to make that descision. Honestly, Rufus could
never keep track, with all the new industries and government agencies jockeying for control, heralded by
various levels of support from the members of Avalanche, the twice saviours of the Planet.
It was with a private amusement that Rufus noticed none of the companies were seeking the approval of the
Turks, who had done just as much- if not more- in the unseating of Hojo.
Sooner or later, his travels had pointed him home, or the last place he had called that. Midgar. He could see
the city buildings, now missing their dividing plate, when he simply stopped travelling. He’d been trudging
through the woods that surrounded the city, entirely of unsure why he was taking the risk of coming this
close to such a densely populated area, when a sudden weariness of travelling had hit him. And that’s when
he’d looked to the left, and seen the cabin.
It was the same cabin that Aeris had summoned the Turks, himself and Avalanche too, he was sure of it,
though he had no real proof. His recollection was fuzzy, and he couldn’t help but notice that the building
was completely and utterly devoid of any personal effects. So he had gone into town, bought what he could
with the limited amount of gil that he had to his name- or at least the name he used in town, Rusty Gribbel.
It wasn’t exactly like Rufus Shinra wouldn’t activate any red flags at the bank- and bought some things he
needed. Then he’d entered the cabin, and settled down.
He had to admit it had been doing him good.
When the boredom of the woods had started to tug at him, he’d taken out the new shotgun he had bought-
the old one damaged beyond repair- and started to practice with it. He took weeks just to get it sighted in
perfectly, so he could split a crack in a log... as long as the log was a foot away, for aim was also something
he needed to practice with. After only a few days of attempted hunting, he’d begun to suspect that all the
training sessions he’d had as a child were simply devised to trick him into believing he knew how to handle a
weapon.
After a month, he was sure of it.
But he got better. His senses heightened, and the world turned crisp around him. Skin that had been pale,
illuminated only by the flourescent bulbs of a lab or office, tanned. Muscle that had the consistency of a thick
jello hardened slowly, and then more rapidly, until dragging his kills back to his cabin was less of a chore and
more of a mild work out. All things considered, he was the man he’d always wanted to be... on the outside.
On the inside, well, he still needed a little something to get him going.
He’d found that something in coffee. He’d bought in bulk, but was still dangerously close to running out.
During his term as president, he had outlawed tobacco, mainly because he knew that Shin Ra would have a
much easier time ruling the black market industry than the clean one- and they’d made a fortune. Looking
back, he realized he should have done it with caffeine instead. Few images were better than an eagles eye
view of a stirring cup of coffee.
Idly, he reached to the left, and grabbed a cup of milk. He poured some into his drink, not because he liked it
that way- he abhored it- but simply because he needed something to occupy his time with that would stop
him from looking up. Because when he looked up, he realized, whatever had made that noise outside his
house, was going to hurt him very, very badly.
The milk poured, he had nothing left to pretend he was busy with, and slowly took a step back. Instantly, a
gun shot rang out, and Rufus was suddenly growling in pain as scalding coffee from his shattered mug
splattered backwards over his hands, scalding them. Letting instinct take over, he threw his own legs out
from under him and hit the ground, pressing flat against the floor boards. Sure enough, a second later,
bullets ripped through his walls as if they were paper, slicing through the air above him.
Making a mental ceiling for himself that passing would involve lots, and lots of pain, Rufus scampered
across the floor like an animal, sliding around the nearest corner and making a frantic line for his weapon. It
sat loaded on a perch hed made himself, and for a moment he braved the death of the three feet and above
air space to jump up and seize the weapon, clicking the safety off and instantly dropping back down.
The second he did so, the noise stopped. Everything was silent.
And quietly, but sounding out like a thunder bolt in the surrounding silence, he heard the handle to his front
door turn, and the door swung open. Footsteps rang out as men entered the cabin, at least four, and it was
with mounting trepidation that Rufus rose into a crouched position, leveling his weapon at the very corner
he had just rounded, lying in wait.
Calmly, the first man turned the corner, his own weapon at the ready. Just as calmly, Rufus fired once,
removing the confident smirk from the mans face, and most of the face as well. The unmistakable sound of
automatic weapons being armed sounded off from just the other side of the wall, giving Rufus his cue to
start looking for a very fast exit. He was looking in vain, and he knew it. The only exit was on the other side
of those men. He groaned, but the groan didn’t cover the creak that sounded right behind him.
Finger on the trigger, he spun, ready to fire his weapon for the last time. Instead, he simply stared dumbly,
eyes wide, at the man that had somehow crept up within a foot of him without him noticing.
“Zack!?”
The burly, black haired Gonganan nodded once, but that was all he had time for before four men in red
uniforms rounded the corner. Without a single word, the former Soldier left into action, going aerial before
their assailants even realized he was there. His sword, already drawn, laced down through the air, hitting the
first man in the upper shoulder and coming out somewhere around his opposite rib. Stunned at the sudden
and vicious end to his comrade, the second man only had time to gasp in shock before the blade turned on
him as well.
A third man had time to get his gun out, but Zack whipped his sword like a knife, letting the massive cutting
instrument fly through the air and strike the man directly between the lungs. Naturally, it didn’t stop there,
and kept flying, pinning the man to the wooden wall. Cocked and armed, the fifth weapon- along with the
fifth weapon holder- was aimed directly at Zack’s temple, but Rufus had been given more than enough time
to reload, and his trigger finger was just a little faster than the others mans. It was barely a recognizable
moment, and in a sudden explosion of blood, it was over.
Rufus stood wide eyed, well aware that his tranquil and quiet home now had a brand new paint job, and that
a man he hadn’t seen in months was the cause of most of it, and was now standing in his home, breathing
heavily, and cleaning off his stained sword.
“What the fuck!?” he managed to exclaim, properly displaying his emotions for the situation.
“We,” Zack explained simply, staring at the bodies lying around them with disgust, “are in a serious amount
of trouble.”