Taking Care of Reno: Meteorfall
Chapter 5: Chasing Sephiroth
“Rude… see to the other executives. Whatever did this…” He paused at the somewhat incredulous look from his subordinate. “Whatever did this,” he reiterated, not quite willing to accept that a long-dead and headless research specimen had miraculously come back to life and murdered the head of the company, “appears to have fled… but I don’t want to take any chances. Have security search the entire building.”
“On it,” Rude replied. “Where will you be?”
“It seems I have the unenviable task of informing Rufus that his father is dead…” It wasn’t one he was looking forward to. The young executive may have been well known for his cold aloofness… but he was far from heartless. And no matter how much discord may have existed between the two men, Tseng had no illusions that the elder Shinra’s passing would simply be glossed over by his son.
Rude nodded and headed for the elevators. The Turk leader glanced over his shoulder at the destroyed containment tank. Assuming Jenova hadn’t somehow been resurrected… what was their intruder’s interest in it? Was it the same person who had infiltrated the lab earlier in the week? And for that matter… where had all the blood come from? Corpses… particularly millennia-old, half-fossilized ones that had been in storage for longer than he’d been a Turk… generally didn’t tend to bleed much.
His gaze turned to the camera mounted above the door and he smirked. The answer to those questions might not be quite so difficult to find after all. He’d check the feeds after he spoke to Rufus. But there was one thing he had to do first…
Tseng keyed open the door leading from the lab to the holding cells and stepped behind the abandoned guard station… He wondered, vaguely, when security had decided to desert their post. That, however, was a worry for later. For the time being, he shut down the security cameras in the room, and cleared the footage for the past few minutes. It wouldn’t do for anyone to find out he’d been there.
That done, the Wutaiian Turk snatched a set of keys from the desk and moved silently down the hallway towards the cells, stopping at the first in the row and peering through the window in the door. Aerith was asleep on the narrow cot, oblivious to everything that had been going on tonight.
It was insubordination at best… If he were discovered, things wouldn’t go well for him. But it was also the least he could do for her. The young woman didn’t deserve her fate. He couldn’t take her from headquarters personally… but he could at least give her a chance to escape. He noiselessly slipped the key into the lock. It turned with a soft click.
The rest was up to her.
He was suddenly aware of eyes watching him, and he turned sharply, coming face to face with a member of building security… probably the very man who was supposed to have been on duty at the guard station. Tseng frowned and took a few steps towards him, forcing him to back up, around the corner.
“I apologize for this… but I’m afraid you have rather poor timing,” he said, quietly. In one swift movement, Tseng was behind him, his arm around the guard’s throat, silencing him. It was unfortunate… but he couldn’t afford to leave a witness. A sharp twist, a loud snap, and the guard went limp. The Turk leader lowered the body to the floor and made a hasty exit from the holding cells.
Rude pointedly resisted the urge to interject. Scarlet and Heidegger had been arguing over which of them was in charge now for the last ten minutes… and didn’t seem to be reaching any sort of an agreement. He was strongly tempted to remind them that Rufus outranked them both and was in Midgar even now. The temptation to simply tell the pair to shut the hell up was even stronger, but he wisely held his tongue.
Reeve Tuesti, meanwhile, seemed content to sit quietly at the the conference table. He’d gone a bit pale when the Turk had explained why the executives were being rounded up, but appeared to have recovered. The head of Urban Development had always struck him as the careful type. Much like himself, he preferred to stay out of politics unless absolutely necessary. To be honest, Rude really wasn’t quite sure how the man had managed to rise to the executive board with such an attitude… He’d always thought there was a bit more to him than meets the eye.
The only member of the board he hadn’t managed to locate was Irving Palmer, head of Shinra’s mostly defunct space program. Rude had never been able to determine if they kept the fat son of a bitch around out of pity or merely for their amusement… though he strongly suspected the latter. He’s been all but stripped of any real power years ago. Palmer was an executive in name only these days. But he was very much a lap dog who knew how to suck up to the boss. That alone had probably made him just useful enough to the president to justify not throwing him out on his ass. Rufus wasn’t likely to be quite so generous towards him.
Still, though… he should probably make one more attempt at locating the man. If nothing else, a second sweep would get him away from the Terrible Twosome. It wasn’t as if he were needed here,after all. Building security had locked down the floor and stationed guards, and two members of Soldier had been summoned to back them up.
With an annoyed shake of his head, he slipped out of the conference room. Palmer was low priority… but anything had to be better than listening to those two idiots argue.
“Sir… Where are you exactly?” Tseng asked, PHS pressed to his ear as he made his way back to the Turks’ offices. Rufus should have been on the ground by now. The pilot had been specifically ordered to take him to the family home and wait… yet he could clearly hear the craft’s engine over the line. Spinning up, as though it was preparing to take off.
“Upstairs,” he responded, simply. “If you’re calling to inform me of my father’s demise, you needn’t bother. Gossip seems to have traveled quite fast, and my pilot has an unusually large mouth. I want to see him.”
“Sir, you shouldn’t be – ” His reply was cut off by a sudden commotion.
“Palmer? What are you doing here, you worthless piece of –”
The rest was too muffled to hear, and it appeared that Rufus had shoved the phone back into his pocket in order to deal with the executive’s sudden arrival. Tseng could hear some panicked shouting… Palmer’s voice… what sounded like “Sephiroth!”… followed by a crash, and angry shouting from Rufus. Moments later, the whine of helicopter’s engines began to fade, as though it were moving away. When it had faded out entirely, he could hear other voices, as well.
Rufus wasn’t alone.
Elena carried two plates out into the living room and set them on the coffee table. Normally, she had a very strict rule against eating anything messier than popcorn on the couch… but Reno had been comfortable, and she hadn’t wanted to force him to move.
“‘Lena… ?” he laughed softly, “I think Rude needs to go over the definition of ‘omelette’ with you… ‘Cause that really doesn’t look much like an omelette.”
“It… um… sort of turned into scrambled eggs halfway through,” she replied, blushing faintly. “I’ve never been very good at flipping them. Sorry. I can try again if you want…”
She reached for the plate intent on taking it back to the kitchen, but the redhead grabbed her hand, and brought it to his lips, placing a tender kiss on the back. “I’m not that picky, ‘Lena… It’s fine.” He pulled her down next to him on the couch.
“I don’t seem to be able to get anything right lately…” She sighed as she felt his arms coil around her, enjoying the contact.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re perfect, ‘Lena…”
She looked at him in disbelief. “How can you even say that? After what I did to you last n–”
“We agreed we’re not gonna dwell on that,” the redhead said firmly, a serious expression on his face. “You fucked up. You’re never gonna do somethin’ like that again. We’re movin’ on… ’cause I don’t wanna be mad at you anymore.” He grinned slightly. “So you’re back to bein’ perfect. Now quit arguin’ with me. You’re hungry and I’m starved.”
Elena smiled as well. He’d been adamant on the ride home… He wanted to forget all about it. She, on the other hand, had a hard time imagining how someone could just forget something like that. “How in Shiva’s name can you just forgive me so quickly?”
Reno reached for a fork and started in on his dinner. “Easy. I don’t like bein’ pissed off at the people who are important to me. Tseng’s always told me that holdin’ a grudge just isn’t in my nature. I don’t stay mad for long. Not when it’s someone who means somethin’ to me…” He dropped his gaze, staring down at his plate and Elena was positive she could see his cheeks reddening. “And especially not when it’s someone who means everything to me.”
She couldn’t help it. She teared up a little. Elena had never had anyone say something like that to her, let alone actually mean it. And he did mean it. It was a little terrifying, knowing that she was that irreplaceable to him. Terrifying… but at the same time reassuring. Reno was hers and nothing was going to change that… not even her own stupidity. She leaned in and kissed his cheek.
“I’m still going to make it up to you,” she said softly. “I promise.”
The painfully loud ringtone of Reno’s PHS stopped him from replying – and utterly killed the mood – as he reached across the coffee table for the device. The redhead frowned.
“What?” Elena asked, not sure what had him so concerned.
“I’m sidelined… and even if this wasn’t business, he knows you’re with me. Boss oughta be callin’ you first. That’s protocol.” He accepted the call, automatically switching it over to speakerphone.
“What’d we miss?” he asked.
“The President is dead.”
Elena’s jaw dropped, and Reno could only blink in mute shock. It took him a moment to recover. “I… Did I hear you right?”
“I’m afraid so,” Tseng’s voice replied, somewhat breathlessly. It sounded as though he was trying to get somewhere in a hurry. In the background, Elena could hear the familiar churning of rotor blades. “I need both of you to head to the Shinra family residence. Rude and I will retrieve Rufus and meet you there.”
“Uh… Yeah, sure. On our way.” The call dropped as soon as he’d indicated that he understood, and he pocketed the phone. “Guess that means I’m back on duty…”
“Reno…”
He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Get changed. We’re workin’ tonight.”
Tseng had barely even hung up with Reno before he was stepping aboard the helicopter. Building security had encountered hostiles, and Rufus had managed to strand himself in his father’s office with, at least by the sound of things, more of them. Rather than wasting time trying to get past an unknown enemy and take him out safely through the building, Tseng had opted to cut out the middleman and simply extract the young VIP directly from the balcony.
“Let’s make this quick. I don’t want Rufus caught in the middle of a firefight,” he said as he pulled on a headset. Rude nodded and took them up. The helicopter dropped as they circled the building, coming to hover near the wide balcony of the presidential office.
Rufus was there… and so too was the ex-Soldier, preparing to attack. The Turk’s eyes narrowed and he had to bite back a few choice invectives. That certainly explained the resistance security had run into.
He should have known better. Of course Aerith would have tried to save her friends as well once she realized she was free. Releasing her had been a foolish, and potentially costly, choice. Still, though, a part of him hoped that she was safely out of the building and on her way home by now… even if it did mean that what remained of Avalanche escaped with her.
Now wasn’t the time to worry about that, however. He had much more pressing concerns… the primary of which being Rufus.
“Get us in closer,” he ordered, and Rude was quick to obey. The younger man spared a glance up, and Tseng was quite certain that his expression was one of relief. He couldn’t blame him… Rufus wasn’t exactly helpless, but against a former Soldier? He stood no chance.
Neither, for that matter, did Tseng. This was no time for a fight. This was a time to cut their losses and run like hell. Rufus said something to Strife before very quickly reaching upwards and grabbing hold of the helicopter’s skid. Tseng was pulling him aboard moments later, as the helicopter moved rapidly away from the building.
“Are you injured, sir?” he asked, once the young man was secure.
“Nothing serious.” Rufus calmly brushed away some non-existent dirt from the sleeve of his immaculate white coat. The slight tremor in his voice betrayed him, however. He’d known he was outmatched… and until the Turks had shown up, Tseng was fairly sure he’d had no idea what he was going to do about it.
The helicopter flew over the city for several minutes before finally hovering for a moment and sinking to the ground behind the tall steel and concrete fence that kept the Shinra home separated from the rest of the city. The engines slowed and the rotors came to a stop, and the little group disembarked.
“Boss!” a voice called out to him from the house, and the Turk leader spotted his lieutenant making his way towards them, as quickly as he could manage on crutches. Elena wasn’t far behind.
“Hmph… What happened to you?” Rufus asked once the pair was within earshot, pointedly trying not to let it show just how shaken he really was.
“Took a bullet to the knee. What happened to you?” the redhead shot back. Rufus scoffed and brushed past him, heading into the house. Reno turned to Tseng instead. “Seriously… what happened? Guy’s white as a sheet.”
A bit of an over-statement, perhaps, but no less insightful, Tseng mused silently. “He attempted to take on Strife. We pulled him out before it could go much further than posturing.”
“The fuck? Don’t tell me those assholes got away again…” He paused a moment, and then Reno’s eyes narrowed angrily. “They the ones that killed the Pres?” he asked in a low voice.
“Not out here.” Tseng gestured for them to follow the retreating executive. By the time they caught up, another conversation was already in progress.
“Well, this should make you quite happy,” Rufus spat, “You’re officially a widow. I’m surprised you’re not already on the phone with that mediocre lawyer you think I don’t know you’ve been keeping on retainer preparing to contest the will!”
“I have a right to –” Juliet Shinra began, only to be ignored as the blond man swept past her and into the sitting room.
“Do whatever you want, you useless whore. Just stay out of my sight. Your lawyer can call my lawyer.” He slammed the door behind him, leaving both his step-mother and the Turks standing in the foyer.
“Spoiled little brat,” Juliet muttered, storming back upstairs.
“She’s real broken up over her husband’s death…” Reno deadpanned. “Tch… You believe she actually asked ‘Lena what she thought of the outfit she’s wearin’ to the funeral? That woman is one seriously cold-hearted bitch.”
“Juliet is not our concern right now,” Tseng replied, “Rufus is. As is dealing with the President’s murderer.”
“So? Was it Avalanche?”
The Wutaiian Turk shook his head. “No. They escaped in the confusion afterward. I don’t know what business Strife had in the President’s office when we pulled Rufus out of there, but Shinra was dead well before then.”
“But, then… who did kill him, sir?” Elena asked.
“We’re not certain yet. It’s possible that one of Hojo’s creations got loose and attacked him, but we haven’t yet had a chance to review the security footage.”
Rude snorted softly. “It was Jenova.”
“I hardly think –”
“Tank was ripped apart… blood leading from the lab all the way to the President’s body… huge sword embedded in the man’s back… What other lab specimen could’ve done all that?” the bald Turk demanded.
“It was the sword that piqued my interest. I know of only one person connected to Shinra who used a sword like that… and who, perhaps not so coincidentally, had more than a passing interest in Jenova.”
“… Sephiroth? He’s been dead for five years.” Rude pointed out.
“I don’t recall ever finding a body, do you?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa… Hold on,” Reno cut in. “Can we back this up and start at the beginning please? Me ‘n ‘Lena have been kinda out of the loop here…”
Tseng nodded. “As has Rufus… I suggest we involve him in this conversation as well, rather than having to rehash it all later.” He turned toward the door the vice president… now the president of Shinra Company… had disappeared through, and pushed it open.
The executive was standing at the wide picture window on the far side of the room, looking out towards the imposing profile of the Shinra Building. He didn’t acknowledge their presence until Tseng was standing right next to him.
“I want to know what happened. Every detail.”
“Yes, sir,” Tseng replied, “Though we don’t yet have all of them ourselves.”
“Palmer claimed he saw Sephiroth murder my father. Hmph… right before the fat bastard turned tale and commandeered my transport,” the young man said, dispassionately. “Ridiculous as it sounds… Palmer is too much of a coward to lie to my face.”
“We don’t know who or what killed him, sir… But a sword very like Sephiroth’s famous Masamune was the weapon that was used.”
“Start from the beginning.”
The Turk leader gestured toward the rest of his team, who had taken up residence on various pieces of furniture. Rufus calmly joined them.
“Rude and I were on our way to meet you at the heliport on the roof,” he began, “On the sixty-eighth floor, we discovered a trail of blood leading into the stairwell from Hojo’s lab and up the stairs. We followed it to your father’s office where we found him, at his desk, dead. He’d been impaled by a sword… which, as I said, was very similar to the one known to be used by the Soldier, Sephiroth. The trail then led out onto the balcony, and disappeared.”
“And no one saw anything?” Rufus asked, coldly.
“Several people saw something… Unfortunately, none of them survived the encounter, either. We placed the building on emergency lockdown in case the killer was still somewhere inside or had additional accomplices, and then followed the blood trail back to its source. It originated in Hojo’s specimen lab.”
“At the Jenova tank,” Rude added, insistently.
“The Cetra specimen?” Rufus asked. “The one missing its head?”
“Yes, sir…” Tseng confirmed. “The tank was destroyed. Ripped apart, in fact. We’re not sure if the blood came from the specimen or from whoever took it… or from something else entirely. Per protocol, we escorted the remaining members of the board to a secure area… and requested that your flight be diverted. An order I can only assume you chose to override.” He fixed the younger man with an accusing stare.
“It… was admittedly not the wisest choice,” Rufus conceded. He turned his gaze back on the window. “The news was relayed to me by the pilot. I wanted to see him.”
The Wutaiian Turk’s glare softened somewhat. Rufus made it far too easy to forget that he was mourning and probably not thinking entirely rationally.
“I was returning to our offices to review the security footage when I learned of that decision… and went immediately to reclaim you instead. What happened while you were in your father’s office?”
Rufus snorted softly in contempt. “I never even made it into the office. I’d hardly set foot on the balcony when Palmer came flying out at me screaming about Sephiroth. Then the coward jumped aboard and ordered the pilot to take off. Without me. The next thing I know I’m being stared down by people claiming to be Avalanche. Most of them took the opportunity to escape… the one with the sword stayed behind accusing me wanting to take over some nonsensical Promised Land.”
“I supposed Strife simply assumed that your plans for the company mirrored those of your father…” Tseng replied.
“I’m afraid I was not privy to those plans. What was he talking about?”
“Shortly before your father’s death, we recaptured the Ancient. He still believed that Aerith was the key to finally completing the Neo-Midgar project.”
The younger man shook his head. “Neo-Midgar? Don’t be ridiculous…”
“Er… Neo-Midgar, sir?” Elena hesitantly broke in… and immediately looked as though she regretted the interruption, as Rufus rolled his eyes.
“A fantasy of my father’s,” Rufus explained. “Years ago, that whackjob Hojo sold him on some legend about an unexplored part of the planet so rich in mako energy that it practically flows out of the ground… Supposedly it was once protected by a people who called themselves the Cetra… and when they died out, its location was lost. He believed that if we could find a Cetra, we could find this so-called ‘Promised Land’ and tap the limitless energy there. Neo-Midgar was to have been built on the spot as a testament to Shinra’s ingenuity and perseverance… but it was only dream. There is no Rumah-foresaken ‘Promised Land’.”
“Huh… You so sure about that?” Reno asked, and Rufus glared at him. “Hey, I’m just sayin’ what if… Maybe it does exist. Or maybe someone’s just as convinced it does as your dad was. And maybe that someone thought he was a gettin’ too close.”
The new president looked as though he was going to comment… but instead, took on a somewhat pensive expression, apparently giving the redhead’s suggestion some consideration.
“Let’s hold off on speculating on motives for the time being,” Tseng interjected. “Rude… Go and retrieve the security footage. I want to see what really happened up there. Get the footage from the lab as well. Elena… You and I are going to see if we can find what rock Palmer is currently hiding under and get him to tell us what he saw.”
“And let me guess,” Reno said, with an over-dramatized sigh, “I get to stay here ‘n babysit ‘n make sure the two remaining Shinras don’t shank one another while you’re gone.”
Rufus muttered something that was probably uncomplimentary under his breath. Though whether it was about Reno or his step-mother, the Wutaiian Turk couldn’t tell.
“If you would be so kind,” Tseng replied with a slight nod.
It didn’t take them long to track down the missing helicopter. It’s pilot had radioed in as soon as he’d landed. He was presently parked on the helipad on top of an auxiliary building for the Sector 2 reactor. As Elena and Tseng made their way inside, it became clear that their missing executive hadn’t strayed far. The night-shift staff all seemed to be on edge, and there were whisperings of the President’s murder and mentions of a Soldier previously thought to be dead.
They found him in the manager’s office.
“Sir.”
Palmer squealed in terror, spinning to face the pair of Turks, one hand clutched to his chest… the other shakily brandishing a small gun. In his panic, he pulled the trigger, letting loose a short barrage of shots in their direction.
Tseng grabbed Elena and pulled her back into the hallway as the bullets lodged themselves in the drywall, forcing them both to take cover. Moments later the gun jammed and the firing ceased. The Turk leader scowled and stood up, storming into the room.
“I would prefer that you refrain from shooting at either myself or my subordinates, sir,” he ground out, swiftly disarming the man. He passed the gun to Elena for safe-keeping. “We’re here to escort you back to the Shinra Building.”
“Oh, thank Rumah…” Palmer breathed, finally recognizing them, apparently oblivious to the Wutaiian Turk’s less-that-pleased expression. “I was afraid everyone had forgotten about me…”
‘If only we could…’ Tseng thought to himself. We’re it not for the fact that the man had valuable information, he would have been seriously considering just leaving the idiot there.
“If you’ll come with us…” he said, instead, with a sweeping gesture towards the door. The portly executive made a hasty exit, heading for the the lobby. Elena watched him go, shaking her head.
“Sir… Is he always like –”
“Yes,” Tseng replied before she could even get the question out, not quite able to refrain from rolling his eyes.
The short drive back to headquarters was filled with Palmer’s voice alternately babbling nervously about nothing in particular, and wondering aloud whether or not he was in trouble for taking off without Rufus. As much as Tseng would have enjoyed leaving him with the implication that Rufus had ordered his immediate execution… terrifying the man into a heart attack likely wouldn’t be very conducive to getting anything useful out of him.
Besides which… Palmer was generally harmless. Just very much a coward. Were it not that, in his rush to escape, he actually had put the new president’s life in jeopardy, Tseng might have been tempted to pity him. He was little more than the executive board’s whipping boy… and he either didn’t realize it, or he had long since embraced the abuse as the only way he’d ever retain his position.
“You know… you’re much too pretty to be a Turk…” the executive commented, offhandedly, and Tseng glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Palmer was staring somewhat owlishly at Elena. He had intentionally directed her into the backseat… in part because he didn’t dare leave Palmer unsupervised in his car, and in part because it meant that the man would likely spend the trip talking to – or perhaps more aptly, at – Elena instead of him.
“I… er… Thank you?” the woman replied, somewhat surprised.
“Not that I’m complaining, mind you. They haven’t let any girls into the Turks in… hmm… well, in years. It’s nice to see a pretty face for a change…” He drew a handkerchief from his pocket and blotted the sweat on his balding forehead, smiling. “If I were a few years younger… I’d be making you an offer you’d find awfully hard to refuse…” His eyebrows waggled suggestively and the thin smile widened into a lecherous grin.
“Uhh…”
Tseng had to try very hard not to laugh at the look his youngest Turk was currently shooting at him in the mirror. It seemed to be a mixture of shock and disgust.
“But… if you don’t mind an older man…” Palmer quickly added, apparently taking her non-response as interest, and leaning closer to her.
“I-I have boyfriend.” Elena said, decisively.
“Oh…” His tone was disappointed, but the leering gaze didn’t quite disappear. “We… well, we certainly wouldn’t have to tell him…”
“She’s seeing Reno, sir,” Tseng interjected, at last taking pity on the younger Turk, and smirking in satisfaction as the rotund executive visibly paled and backpedal to the far side of his seat.
“I-I… Er… That is… obviously I’d never want to… um… I… Y-you won’t mention any of this to him…will you?” he stammered, as Tseng made the final turn into the Shinra Building parking deck and pulled into his space. The Turk leader didn’t hear his fellow-Turk’s answer, as he stepped out of the car and around to the back, opening the executive’s door for him.
The man stayed mercifully silent for the short elevator ride up to the Turks’ main office, occasionally eying Elena with varying degrees of interest and fear. The pair escorted him into the lounge, settling him on the couch.
“Sir… President Rufus told us that you witnessed his father’s murder. We would very much like to hear your version of events.”
“Oh… Oh, yes. I see. I mean, I saw. Yes, I saw it. Him. Sephiroth.”
Elena looked over at Tseng, questioningly, but he simply shook his head.
“What happened?”
“Well…” Palmer began, “I had a meeting with the President before Rufus’ dinner was to start…”
Tseng mentally laughed. The reality was probably something along the lines of Palmer having cornered the President before he could head downstairs. He doubted very much that the man would have agreed to a meeting with anyone… let along Palmer… when his son was minutes away from returning home.
“We were discussing my department’s funding, you see. Bertrand was very enthusiastic about my latest ideas for the space exploration program. You see, I was thinking… what if we launched a new satellite that was capable of detecting mako close to the surface of the planet? We could…”
“Sir… please. We need to know what happened to the President.” He wasn’t about to sit there listening to a sales pitch from the Space Department that, in all likelihood, the former-President Shinra had rejected out of hand.
“O-oh. Yes. Well, I had just finished explaining my proposal when we heard quite a commotion from the reception area. Bertrand asked me to poke my head out and see what was going on… so I did. And I wish to Shiva that I hadn’t,” he said with a shudder. “It was terrible. Just terrible. That poor girl… He cut her right in two! Right in front of my eyes… And then he started up the stairs. He must not have seen me back behind the door. He was on the opposite staircase, you understand… And well, I… I just didn’t know what to do. So I closed the door and hid behind the potted plants.”
“Did he say anything? Did he give any indication why he was there?” Tseng prodded.
“He said… he said that we couldn’t have the Promised Land. That it was his. And then… he killed him. I didn’t know what to do! I couldn’t move… Not even after he was gone. Not even when you and that other Turk showed up. I was just too frightened! And then those terrorists showed up and found me. T-they threatened me!”
Tseng’s eyebrow rose in curiosity. “You spoke to them?” Palmer nodded meekly. “What did you tell them?”
“J-just what I told you. I didn’t see anything else… there was nothing else to tell. And then I heard the helicopter… and I ran for it.”
“Did they say anything?” he asked, curious as to whether or not Avalanche might have something to do with Sephiroth’s return. It seemed – if nothing else – that they shared similar goals. Palmer thought a moment.
“Well… not really. The woman asked her friends if they thought Sephiroth was trying to save the Promised Land. The man with the sword said no. He said… ‘Sephiroth’s mission is different’. Yes… That’s what he said.”
“That doesn’t sound like they’re working together, does it, sir?” Elena commented.
“No,” the Turk leader agreed, “Though it seems at least one of our terrorist friends has had past dealings with Sephiroth. If that’s really who he is.”
“It was Sephiroth!” Palmer insisted. “I’m sure of that.”
Tseng turned his attention back to the executive. “Thank you, sir. You’ve been very helpful. The rest of the board is meeting in the executive conference room, if you’d care to join them…”
“Yes. Yes, I think I will.” The man stood, wiping a hand across his brow, and hurried from the room, leaving the two Turks to themselves.
“Sir…” Elena began, once she was certain he was out of earshot, “I always… well, I always thought that Sephiroth was dead. That’s what all the papers said, anyway. That he was killed defending the reactor in Nibelheim from a monster outbreak.”
Tseng chuckled softly. “It’s a very good thing Reno put you up for promotion when he did. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to tell you any of this… Have a seat.”
The woman did as she was asked, perching herself on the arm of the couch, and looking up at her superior inquisitively.
“I suppose I’d have to begin by explaining that everything that really happened in Nibelheim five years ago was swiftly and thoroughly covered up. The entire incident has a level seven classification rating. It started out as simple reconnaissance. There had been reports of highly aggressive creatures threatening the village… and consequently, the reactor. Two members of Soldier, and a handful of Shinra military personnel were dispatched to investigate and deal with the problem.”
“Sephiroth was one of them?” Elena asked.
“Yes. Sephiroth… and a newly promoted Soldier First Class by the name of Zack Fair. The details of what precisely transpired are unknown… but from the handful of survivors, we learned that Sephiroth became… obsessed… with something he found in the archives at the Shinra manor at Nibelheim. In the end, he burned the entire village to the ground and murdered anyone who tried to stop him. Nearly every resident of the village died, either in the fire or by his hand.”
“WHAT?!” She stared at him, in wide-eyed disbelief, and Tseng didn’t have to wonder why. Sephiroth was known as a hero. Even after the Nibelheim Incident, Shinra had allowed that image to live on.
“It’s all true. There a handful of eye witness accounts from the few who managed to avoid death. He eventually retreated to the reactor in the mountains… That’s where Zack and the surviving military officers confronted him. Based on the investigation that followed, it appeared he was after the Jenova specimen. He tried to take it, but was interrupted… and only managed to remove its head. Unfortunately, Zack was no match for him. He was gravely injured and left for dead.”
“But… what happened to Sephiroth?”
“We believed that he was challenged by one of the guards and fell into the reactor well, along with Jenova’s head. The boy was either incredibly lucky, or Zack had done enough damage that Sephiroth was too weakened to continue to fight back. Of course, there was no way to prove any such thing actually happened… Only the somewhat incoherent ramblings of a dying young private.”
“So… everything was covered up. Then what? What about the village?”
“Shinra rebuilt it. An exact replica of the original. It’s currently populated with Shinra employees and their families, all sworn to secrecy. The few survivors either agreed to follow suit, or… were dealt with. Reno and I retrieved was was left of the Jenova specimen and brought it back here. Zack and the young boy who’d allegedly finished Sephiroth off for him were remanded to Hojo’s custody… and until very recently, I had believed that they had both succumbed to their injuries shortly after. As it turns out, I was wrong. Zack, at least, survived and escaped not long ago. He was gunned down a few miles from Midgar by Shinra forces sent to recapture him.”
Elena shuddered. “What did Hojo do to them?”
“I have no idea. Nothing pleasant, I’m sure. Regardless… Everyone assumed that Sephiroth was dead. There was, in fact, no evidence to the contrary, and a fair amount supporting the private’s claims.”
“But no body,” she finished for him, “And it stands to reason that if he really is still alive, he probably wouldn’t be especially loyal to Shinra.”
“And possibly looking to obtain the rest of the Jenova specimen, as well.”
“… Sir? Do you think it’s really him?”
Tseng shrugged noncommittally. “I’m not sure… though the evidence certainly does seem to be piling up. Come on. We should go and see what Rude has managed to turn up.”
“What’s taking them so long?” Rufus muttered. He’d been pacing the room for a solid forty-five minutes. He finally stopped for a moment at the ornate bar at the far side of the room, and snatched a crystal decanter from the shelf, pouring some of its contents into a glass. He downed it and refilled it before resuming his pacing.
“You’re gonna wear a path in your expensive as fuck carpet, ya keep that up much longer…” Reno commented from a plush chair next to the fireplace. His injured leg was propped up on a stack of thick books he’d stolen from a nearby shelf. “Boss’ll be back soon as he’s got a better idea what’s goin’ on.”
The blonde stormed up to him and kicked the pile out from under his foot. The redhead yelped as the sudden movement jarred his wounded knee. “Show some respect, Turk! Shinra Company is mine now. That means you’re mine, as well.”
“Not if ya fuckin’ cripple me…” he countered, wincing. “Just so ya know… that hurt.”
Rufus growled and flung his still-full glass into the fireplace. It shattered against the cold stone. He turned on the Turk, seizing him by the collar and yanking him upwards, his face inches from Reno’s.
“What’re you gonna do? Huh? Kick me when I can’t fight back?” Reno asked, calm in spite of the somewhat murderous glare in the other man’s eye. His eyes flickered towards the small pool of alcohol in the hearth. “Tch… Waste of good booze…”
“I could kill you now, and no one could do anything about it, Turk.”
Reno shrugged. “You’re probably right. But you’re not gonna. And you know you’re not gonna, so quit actin’ like an asshole and just admit that you want a little sympathy.”
Rufus continued to glare, but grudgingly released his grip on him. “I really can’t stand you…” he sneered. The Turk grinned.
“Yeah… well… I’m sure you’re not alone in that.” Finally free, he reached down, rubbing at the abused limb. “Wasn’t kiddin’ about that hurtin’, by the way. Look… I get it. You’re pissed. You just lost your dad, you’re step-mom’s a bitch, and the one person who’s shoulder you might actually be willin’ to cry on is busy figurin’ out who killed him. Sucks to be you right now.”
The executive’s expression shifted slightly, and he turned his back on the redhead, returning his gaze to the window. Night had fallen completely by now, and the darkened city was lit up by mako-powered street lamps and the lights from highrise windows.
“Sucks to be me right now, too, for that matter. Totally different reason, and I doubt you’d care… but point is we all got problems. You want sympathy… I can sympathize. You wanna talk… Fuck it, I’ll listen. But don’t expect me to treat ya any different than I usually do, ’cause knowin’ you, that’d just make shit worse.”
Rufus didn’t answer him. He simply continued to stare out the window, at the silhouette of the Shinra Building in the distance, outlined by the lights of Midgar. After a minute or two, he shook his head and walked back to the bar, pouring two glasses this time, before returning to the Turk’s side. He handed him one.
“I don’t want to talk.”
Reno smirked and raised his glass. “I’m good with drinkin’, too, sir.”
“… That’s as good as it gets.” Rude ran the video back and let it play. The footage was garbled and next to impossible to make out. “They’re all like that. Every camera. It’s some kind of electrical interference or something.”
“Do you have any idea what could have caused it?” Tseng asked, eyes locked on the monitor. Every once in awhile, the image cleared up slightly, and they got a glimpse of… something.
“Not really my area of expertise. But I can tell you when it started.” He scanned back farther in the recording, until the image was crisp and clear. The camera was trained on the Jenova enclosure. He hit play.
For several moments, nothing happened. Then the picture began to get grainy, and bursts of static popped from the computer speakers. Tseng watched as the tank’s door buckled, crumpled by some unseen force. Then the video went bad again and he he could hardly tell what he was looking at.
“What about the footage from the President’s office?” he asked.
“Told you… They’re all like this. Best I could do was pull some still shots that were half-way decent.”
“Let’s see them.”
Rude nodded and began pulling up a group of still images captured from the video feed. The first was from the lab, showing the tank just as they’d later found it… ripped open and destroyed. The next showed… well, Tseng wasn’t quite sure what it showed. There was blood. There was flesh… an arm, perhaps. Certainly not Jenova’s, but not a normal, human arm, either… it was almost as though it were only half-formed.
Rude clicked through to the next image, this one from a different camera. More blood. A body, covered in it… Tseng could just make out exposed muscle, as though the body had been flayed.
“Dear Shiva…” Elena whispered softly next to him, staring at it. “What is it?”
The next image… the hilt of sword. Tseng recognized it immediately. It was still embedded in Bertrand Shinra’s back.
The last still was from the camera outside the President’s office. A tall, silver-haired man dressed in black on the staircase. He was looking directly into the camera, a cruel smile on his face, as though he knew someone would be watching.
“Sir… Is… Is that really… ?” Elena began.
“Sephiroth,” Rude confirmed. “Not so dead after all.”
“Apparently so,” Tseng agreed. He leaned back against the edge of the desk, a pensive expression on his face. Obviously, it had been Sephiroth who’d taken the Jenova specimen… the only alternative was that Jenova was still alive and had escaped on its own, and Tseng still maintained that that was impossible. The question was… why? What interest did the man have in it?
Palmer had told them that Sephiroth was intent on laying claim to the Promised Land. Perhaps the long-dead Cetra really was the key to finding it…
“I think the video has told us all it’s going to. We’ll see to the rest of the board first… I suspect Heidegger will demand personal escorts home for each of them… and then return to Rufus. The President will be wondering about our investigation’s progress by now, I’m sure.”
Reno grunted softly as he sifted his leg off of the stack of books and groped for his crutches. Rufus never had been much of a drinker… as evidenced by the fact that he was currently on the floor, leaning up against the leg of a sidetable, thoroughly passed out. The redhead made his way over and tapped him lightly on the cheek with the palm of his hand.
“Hey… Come on. No sleepin’ on the expensive carpet, kid.” He got no response from him, besides a soft groan. Reno shook his head and smirked. “Fuckin’ lightweight.”
Between the two of them, they’d polished off the decanter of brandy fairly quickly. He was barely even feeling it. Rufus, however…
Well, the man wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, that was for sure. If it weren’t for being stuck on crutches, Reno would have made an effort to move him somewhere a little more comfortable… but he didn’t think Ward would be quite so forgiving a second time if he aggravated his injury any more than he already had before the next time he was due for treatment.
With a shrug, he lowered himself down next to him, finding a relatively comfortable position. He wrapped an arm around the young executive’s shoulders and plucked the half-full glass from his hand.
“Ya know… the boss isn’t gonna be too happy with me, lettin’ you drink yourself comatose…” he sighed. Rufus didn’t wake… simply curled into Reno’s side slightly, the hand that had previously been clutching the glass unconsciously taking hold of his jacket. “Yeah, yeah… Relax. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
He swirled the amber liquid in the glass. “Heh… No sense lettin’ it go to waste…” he murmured, before tossing it back and swallowing. Normally, he stayed well away from alcohol while he was working… even something as minor as babysitting a VIP while he slept off the past couple of hours of drinking. It was a personal rule. Technically, if he wasn’t officially on duty – which, due to his injury, he wasn’t – he was free to do as he pleased. But his rule stemmed largely from a minor mission early on in his career that had resulted in a late night celebration of successfully completing his objective… and a decidedly unimpressed Veld on the return trip. After that, he’d decided to try a little harder to maintain at least some semblance of professional decorum until he was officially on his own time. To be honest, he wasn’t sure whether or not Veld himself had ever really noticed… though Tseng certainly had.
He probably shouldn’t have be drinking at all right now to begin with. He wasn’t in the habit of drinking while depressed… but it definitely wasn’t one he ever wanted to get into. And tonight’s events were certainly depressing. One one hand… he couldn’t help but think the elder Shinra had finally gotten what was coming to him. Reno may have been the one to push the button in Sector 7, but it had been on Shinra’s orders. He was having a hard time mourning the man’s death. He blamed the president for making him do something that went so far against his nature that he doubted he’d ever get over it completely.
On the other hand, though… He liked Rufus. And whatever else the former-President was, he was still Rufus’ father… The young man was taking his death hard. The new President stirred fitfully in his alcohol-induced sleep.
“Just take it easy, kid… We’re not lettin’ anything happen to you.”
Reno glanced up as the door to the room swung inward, and caught sight of Tseng as he returned, followed quickly by Rude and Elena. The Turk leader’s eyebrow rose in curiosity… and moderate disapproval when he spotted the empty glasses.
“Hey, don’t blame me… What was I s’posed to do to stop him? I can barely walk,” the redhead pointed out, only half serious.
“I suppose our report will have to wait until morning…” Tseng replied with a soft sigh. He crossed the room and hefted the younger man into his arms. “I’ll stay with him tonight. The rest of you may as well go home.”
As his mentor disappeared with his charge, Reno held a hand out to Rude, silently asking for help getting to his feet. The other Turk snorted a quiet laugh.
“You that drunk?” he joked.
“Tch… No. I’m that crippled,” the redhead shot back, before turning his gaze on Elena. “Come on, guys… I can’t bend my knee with this stupid brace on. One of you is gonna have to help me here, or I’m gonna be stuck on the floor all night.”
“You’re stronger…” Elena said, looking over at Rude.
“He’s your boyfriend, not mine…”
“Do you want him?” she asked, snickering. Reno glared at them both, annoyed.
“Will you two just shut up and help me already? This floor is fuckin’ uncomfortable.”
Rude chuckled quietly and and picked him up bodily, setting him on his feet, as Elena retrieved his crutches from the floor.
“Thank you.” He looped an arm around Elena, pulling her against his side and kissing her.
“You’re welcome,” Rude snorted.
“What? You want a kiss, too, partner?”
Rude rolled his eyes. “How was babysitting?” he asked. Reno shrugged.
“Kid’s takin’ it pretty hard. Tch… Not that he’d ever actually say so.”
“You do remember that the ‘kid’ is three years older than you are, right?” Rude asked as the group headed for the door.
“Yeah… But I got more life experience. You guys find out anything interesting? Like who killed the President? Your headless science experiment actually come back to life, or what?”
“It was a ghost,” Rude replied. “One we thought we’d seen the last of five years ago.”
Reno raised an eyebrow, and turned to Elena. “Sounds like I’m not the only one of us who’s been drinkin’ tonight… Rude here’s talkin’ in riddles.”
They three of them stepped out of the manor and into the driveway. The night was sultry and humid, and Reno could feel the sweat already beading on the back of his neck as they slowly walked toward their respective cars.
“It was Sephiroth,” Elena clarified, “The Sephiroth…”
“… That’s not possible.”
“Then the guy has an identical twin. We saw him on the security cameras, clear as day. Palmer saw him, too.”
“Son of bitch,” Reno sighed, shaking his head, “Ya know… If Sephiroth’s still out there runnin’ around, we might have a problem. Never actually met the guy myself, but from what I hear tell, he was about as good as good gets.”
“I met him once,” Rude said, off-handedly. Reno and Elena paused in their bid for the car.
“When?” the redhead demanded.
“Right before Tseng brought you in. Got sent to the Director of Soldier’s office with some requests from Veld. Ran into him as he was coming out.”
“… Yeah? And?”
Rude shrugged. “That’s it.”
“… That’s it? You practically walk right into the most famous person to ever come outta Shinra and you just stare at the guy? Don’t even say anything?”
The other Turk shrugged again. The redhead groaned and elbowed his partner.
“I damn near forgot what a loser you were back then. Thanks for remindin’ me,” he said with a snicker. Rude smirked.
“You couldn’t even get off the floor on your own five minutes ago… and I’m the loser?” he teased.
Elena sank back against the pillows and guided Reno’s head down onto her shoulder, gently petting him. The redhead smiled and cuddled up to her, making himself comfortable.
“Hey… ‘Lena?” he prodded. His fingers trailed along her hip in a light caress.
“Hmm?”
“… I just want you to know. I’m really glad you’re here.”
She lifted her head slightly, eying him with curiosity. “Where else would I be?”
Reno chuckled. “I mean… I’m glad I’m not stuck all alone in my old apartment, not wantin’ to fall asleep ’cause I know what’s comin’. ‘Cause that’s what I’d be doin’ right now if we weren’t together. I’m glad I’m here instead. With you.”
“Where’d that come from?” she asked. He felt her arms tighten around him a bit.
“Thinkin’ about Rufus, I s’pose. I’m guessin’ he’s not havin’ the greatest night’s sleep, no matter how drunk he mighta been when we left…” Reno nuzzled her and let his eyes close as he settled himself. “Guy’s got everything anyone could ever want. ‘Cept someone like you. Closest thing he’s got is Tseng… and that’s just not the same thing.”
Elena pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and he sighed. “Do you think he’ll be alright?” she asked.
“Rufus? Sure. He’s already all kinds of fucked up…” He opened his eyes again and looked at her, grinning slightly. “‘Course, I’m hardly one to talk…”
“You’re not fucked up,” she said firmly, and Reno couldn’t help but laugh.
“… ‘Lena, I’m havin’ night terrors to the point that you won’t let go of me in bed so that you know when to wake me up. I can go from perfectly fine to guilt-ridden and depressed in a matter of minutes. Trust me… ‘Fucked up’ is a very apt description of me right now.”
“Well… I don’t care if you are. You’re mine.”
“Mmmhmm…” He sighed and let himself relax against her body. “That’s what makes it bearable… knowin’ that you’re not gonna give up on fixin’ me.”
Elena’s lips brushed against his forehead for a second time. “Never,” she agreed.
Rufus rolled over in bed and opened his eyes… almost immediately squeezing them tightly shut again as the morning light scorched his retinas and set off a painful throbbing in his head. He groaned loudly.
“Good morning to you, as well, sir,” a familiar voice greeted him. The blonde man gazed across the room through slitted eyes, and slowly pushed himself upright, trying to organize his thoughts as the room tilted, leaving him feeling nauseous. The last thing he remembered was drinking with that goddamned slum rat. The bastard hadn’t even tried to stop him from doing this to himself.
Still, though… He couldn’t help but feel mildly grateful that he’d been there. Drinking alone would have been… depressing. He jumped slightly as a pillow was tucked behind him, allowing him to lean back instead of propping himself up on one arm.
“What happened?” he finally managed.
“You attempted to outdo Reno with a bottle of brandy. I’m afraid you lost… by quite a wide margin, given that my Turk wasn’t even halfway to being drunk by the time I returned.”
Rufus glared, irritated, at the Wutaiian, and squeezed his eyes shut again. “I think I may be dying…” he moaned. Tseng chuckled softly.
“I doubt that, sir. Though if my own experiences drinking with Reno are anything to go by, I’m sure it feels like it. This should help.”
Rufus glanced over, spying the cup of coffee the man was holding out to him, along with several aspirins. He gratefully reached for it, swallowing the pills with a large mouthful of the bitter black liquid.
“If that stays down, we’ll try some breakfast in a little while,” Tseng added.
“I trust the slum rat has been appropriately punished for his role in putting me in my present condition?” Rufus asked, though without his normal strength of voice. He really wasn’t up for playing his usual games with the Turk, but it had been worth a try.
“I sent him home with Elena, sir.”
He snorted in contempt… which, as it happened, was a terrible mistake. For a moment, he was quite certain his skull was going to split in two.
“I wake up suffering like the wretched souls of the damned. He wakes up cradled in the arms of his lover. That hardly seems fair,” he commented once his vision cleared. “… What did you find out?”
“Sir… I think that can wait until you’re feeling better.”
“No. I have a responsibility to the company… and… to my father. I want this resolved.”
Tseng sighed, and shook his head. “If you insist. But you will be remaining in bed for this briefing, sir.”
“Get on with it, then,” he ordered, taking another swig of coffee and grimacing. He never took it black, and Tseng knew it. A part of him vaguely wondered if that was a little extra punishment for his idiotic decision to drink himself senseless last night.
“The Jenova specimen is gone as is your father’s killer. Security swept the entire building last night. They found nothing. We’re not even entirely certain how he gained access to the secure floors.”
“Who?” Rufus demanded. That was really the only thing he wanted to know right now. The details could wait.
“… Sephiroth.”
He raised his eyes to meet Tseng’s in shock, convinced he must have misheard him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m quite serious, sir. Palmer recounted what he saw, and security footage backs up his statement. It was Sephiroth… or someone virtually identical to him.”
“Impossible… Sephiroth is dead.”
“There was no body five years ago, sir,” Tseng replied. “It is, perhaps, unlikely… but not impossible.”
Rufus shook his head, and immediately regretted it. “But why? What reason could he have had?”
“We believe his goals were twofold. In the first place, he wanted to secure the rest of the Jenova specimen. In the second… He wanted to prevent your father from locating the Promised Land,” he explained, cutting the younger man off before he could protest the mysterious realm’s existence. “I realize that you don’t think it exists, sir… but Sephiroth apparently does. And wishes to claim it for himself. To what end, we don’t know.”
The President’s eyes narrowed and he glared down at his coffee. “Then we find him. We follow him. And, if it does exist, we end him and take it for ourselves.”
Sephiroth may have drawn first blood… but Rufus would make sure that Shinra would draw the last. If the rogue Soldier wanted a war with Shinra Company… that’s what he would have.
~fin~
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