Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 77: Prelude to Trouble

The mid afternoon sun was unusually warm for this time of year. Certainly the summers near Junon could be sweltering, but they were still firmly in spring and would be for several more weeks yet. Tseng suspected that Viridia wasn’t looking forward to the later months, if this was any indication of what was to come. She never did like overly hot weather. For him, however, it was nearly perfect.

Or would have been, had he been able to relax and enjoy it. Unfortunately he was on duty… which meant that he had to settle for merely not being uncomfortably chilled while he worked.

The campsite had been deep in the forest. They’d had to hike for nearly an hour to reach it, and the terrain, while not overly difficult to navigate, hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park. By the time they’d reached it, Tseng was beginning to wonder if the month he’d spent wandering about Wutai, and then holed up in Junon, had left him a bit out of shape.

The trees and brush surrounding him were thick. So thick that everything lay in shadow, even with the sun shining brightly above. The camp had been made in a small clearing, little more than a bedroll and a makeshift firepit, some discarded food wrappers, and a stack of collected kindling and dry wood.

Tseng was crouched beside the extinguished fire, holding a hand out over the charred logs. As Viridia had mentioned back at the base, he could feel the residual warmth still rising from it. It looked as though whomever had been here had rather hurriedly kicked some loose soil over it to put it out. Perhaps indicating a hasty exit. It was possible that they’d heard the search teams from Junon making their way through the woods and left before the camp could be located.

A burnt scrap of paper caught his eye and he fished it out of the pit, carefully smoothing it out as best he could. There wasn’t much to it… but in a corner that was only scorched rather than blackened, he could make out familiar characters. Wutaiian characters. It was largely illegible, but the note seemed to say something about Lower Junon and the elevator to the base. He frowned slightly, wondering if they’d been bold enough to enter via what was essentially the front door… and if so, why the base’s security hadn’t stopped them, or even remembered seeing them. The elevator was always guarded.

Of course… there was always the possibility of a traitor. Viridia wouldn’t like to hear that, but it was something he’d have to bring up with her when they compared notes later.

At last, he stood and moved on to the next item of interest. Junon personnel had specifically been told to avoid disturbing the site before their superiors arrived, but he could clearly see where they’d trampled through haphazardly at one point. A jumble of heavy boot prints marred one entire end of the camp, virtually obliterating any trail that might have been left there. He shook his head and moved past the minor destruction, slipping out of the clearing and into the forest.

He half-wished he’d thought to contact Midgar and request that Kai join him in the field. This was more her area of expertise. The woman had an eye for spotting what most people would miss in a patch of dirt. She could track prey – be it animal or human – for miles if necessary. Tseng, meanwhile, was left to meander around in the trees, hoping to stumble upon what Kai would likely have seen in mere moments.

Today, however, it seemed that fortune favored him… because after several yards he came across something that was most certainly out of place. It glinted in a patch of sun that had made its way through the canopy. He stooped down and retrieved it, brushing aside some of the soil it had been resting in. The lighter was decently heavy, and of fairly good quality. It was engraved with the familiar pattern of a double-headed dragon… a rather iconic subject of Wutaiian folklore, and an image that had been extremely popular in the village closest to his family’s estate when he was a boy. He himself had once built a kite bearing the design, which he’d been quite proud of.

He resolutely forced himself not to recall that he’d made said kite for his sister.

Instead, he flicked the lighter open and tried to strike a flame. It flared brightly on the first try and he snapped it shut again. Besides the design, it didn’t seem to hold any other clue to its owner’s identity. There were no initials. No personalizations. He tucked it into a pocket and drew his weapon before moving on. He doubted the former owner had stuck around to watch the Junon troops pay his campsite a visit… but it never hurt to be cautious.

Now that he knew someone had come this way at some point, his eyes scanned the forest floor intently, looking for further signs of their passage. Eventually, he was able to make out the faint outline of a footprint. And then another. Soon, he was following the trail. After some distance, the trees began to thin slightly and ahead of him, he saw a figure.

His first instinct was the drop down, out of sight, before he was spotted. Hidden behind the brush, he watched the figure for a moment and it didn’t take him long to realize who it was. With a grimace he stood up and lowed his gun, making his way over to the body.

Captain Alfonso del Mar. Formerly the commanding officer in charge of the entirety of the Junon military base… now very dead.

He’d been stripped to the waist and lashed to a tree, arms stretched out around its trunk in a painful embrace and tied in place with what looked to be leather cord. He’d clearly been either whipped or caned. Deep welts that had stopped bleeding some time ago when blood flow had ceased littered his back and arms. Judging by the various bruises that dotted other areas of the body, he’d likely been beaten as well. Tortured. But as he looked closer, he could see that those injuries had not caused his death. No… that was undoubtedly the result of having his throat unceremoniously cut.

He’d clearly been dead for quite some time. Long before the teams from Junon had found the camp… possibly before they’d even begun their search of the forest. It hadn’t been a swift kill to cover their tracks before making a hasty retreat to avoid being caught. They’d taken their time, gotten what they’d come for, and then disposed of the man.

With an aggravated sigh, he turned back in the direction he’d come from and raised his fingers to his lips, letting out a sharp, piercing whistle that cut through the still air of the forest. It wasn’t long before his summons had the desired effect. Viridia and two of her men appeared from thick foliage, making their way towards him. The security chief took one look at his discovery and shook her head.

“Dammit. Alright… get him down from there,” she said to one of the infantrymen. “And contact base. Tell them that we’ve found the captain. Have them recall all search teams.”

---

Remy paused the recording and Reno groaned, flexing his fingers.

“… Okay, not that I’m questionin’ orders or anything here but… why in the fuck are you havin’ me hand write this shit? You know how bad my handwriting is… we’ll be lucky if anyone can even read it by the time I’m done.”

“Because you need the practice. You’re right… I know exactly how awful your handwriting is. It’s almost as bad as your cooking,” the senior Turk replied, smirking slightly.

Reno snickered quietly. “Please. You’ve never even eaten my cooking.”

“No… but I’ve been apprised of the aftermath.”

“Tch… ya poison one Turk and no one ever lets ya forget it…” he grumbled in mock aggravation, but then turned to her, grinning. “Ya know, everyone’s pretty much convinced I’m hopeless in the kitchen. Maybe I’m just hopeless at this, too. Why bother?”

“Because we can at least attempt to improve your penmanship through vigorous practice and correction without endangering lives. Attempting to improve your culinary skills might prove dangerous to all involved,” Remy replied with an amused smile, “Your mentor may not be so inclined to place priority upon dealing with it, but frankly, it irritates the hell out of me.”

“Ya know… if it it weren’t legitimately so bad that I can’t read half of it, I think might be insulted right now…” The senior Turk merely gave a soft snort of laughter as an answer. The redhead rolled his eyes, but a moment later simply snickered and picked up his pen again. “Yeah, yeah… whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

But instead, Remy only chuckled.

“Actually, I think you’re done with your part. You can go, if you like. I’ll finish up. The latter half of the interrogation is almost entirely in Wutaiian. We can barely read your writing in English… I shudder to think how badly you’ll mangle a language you don’t even speak.”

“Well, gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Remy,” the rookie laughed. He tossed the pen onto her desk and stood up, making his way to the door, but paused halfway there and turned back. “Hey, uh… before I take off, I just wanted to say… ya know… thanks. For earlier.”

Remy shook her head. “You’re not the first rookie to have a hard time seeing that. Trust me… I remember what it was like for me the first time. It gets easier.”

“Should it?” Reno found himself asking. “I mean, should… that… ever be easy to watch?”

The senior Turk leaned back in her chair and fixed him with a serious look. “No… it shouldn’t. And I only said it gets easier. It’s never easy. Not even for Kai, as much as she might pretend otherwise and hide her revulsion behind dark humor. There are a lot of things about being a Turk that you simply learn to live with.” She lifted her hand off of the desk, holding it up slightly and studying the stump of her left index finger. “The senseless loss of good friends, for instance. Or the fact that you survived something that another Turk didn’t.”

He didn’t quite know what to say to that. She was right, he knew. Turks handled the dirty jobs for Shinra. The jobs that were too dangerous or too abhorrent for normal people. That man downstairs wouldn’t be the last person the Turks had to torture… just as Aaron wouldn’t be the last Turk that would die in the line of duty. And Reno would just have to live with that. They all had to live with that.

“It’s… best not to dwell on it for too long,” Remy added, with a thin smile. “Not even if you end up with a permanent reminder, like I did. Just remember… we all have scars of one kind or another. And no one understand a Turk like another Turk.”

Reno nodded and silently slipped out of her office, heading towards the lounge and hoping that someone had made coffee. He’d decided to forgo lunch, and felt the familiar sluggishness from lack of food creeping in. Caffeine would perk him up a little. As he rounded the corner, he was nearly run down by Shay.

“Is Remy in her office?” the other Turk asked, somewhat breathlessly.

“Uh… yeah, she is,” he replied, “But she’s workin’ on a transcript right now.”

Shay shook his head and hurried past him. “It’ll have to wait. Tseng reported in. He wants her and Kai for backup in Junon. They found someone tortured to death in the middle of the forest near the base.”

---

“Hey, Reno,” Rude greeted him without turning around from a new monitor that had appeared on his desk. The redhead opened his mouth to ask how the fuck he knew it was him, but paused when he saw his own image on the screen. It was an odd angle, and he looked down at the floor, seeking out the hidden camera… which, as it turned out, wasn’t so hidden.

“… That thing is fuckin’ creepy, man,” he snickered, eyeing the drone as it shuffled slightly to its left. It was even more insect-like when it moved. Like a giant scuttling beetle. “I see Tres finally found the remote.”

Rude turned to face him, grinning. “Yep.”

“So… according to Shay there’s a dead guy in Junon. I miss anything else while I was gone?”

“Just lunch. And Cissnei telling off Rodney,” the other rookie replied, “Who’s dead? The missing captain?”

“Probably,” Reno shrugged, “I didn’t have time to ask Shay for specifics. He was in a hurry to talk to Remy. Tseng wants backup. What’s this about Cissnei and Rodney?”

“Don’t you think there are more pressing matters to worry about right now?” Rude teased.

“Fuck you. I wanna hear today’s gossip,” the redhead snickered sliding into his chair. His fellow rookie chuckled and reached over to shut off the monitor for the drone.

“It wasn’t really anything big. Rodney was just being a pain in the ass because you got the interrogation assignment and he thought he should have. Cissnei called him out on it. That’s all,” he replied, and then smirked, “Oh… and she got in a few digs about Rufus not being too impressed with him, too. Apparently he’s been downright nice to her. Er… nice for Rufus, anyway.”

Reno laughed and folded his arms behind his head, leaning back in his chair. “Man… almost makes me wish I hadn’t skipped out on lunch. I’da liked to see that…”

“… I’m not going to have to report you to Ward, am I?” Rude asked, only half-jokingly. “You know what she thinks about you not eating.”

“Tch… Trust me. After what I had to sit through downstairs, I don’t think it woulda stayed down even if I’d tried to eat. It was bad. Like… I’m gonna be dreamin’ about it bad.”

Rude nodded in understanding. “Tres told me the prisoner died.”

“… Yeah. Fuck, Rude, I know it’s like… for the greater good and all that shit but… damn. It was fucked up. Killin’ someone who’s tryin’ to kill you back is one thing. Doin’ it in the most painful way possible to a guy chained to a chair, though…” He shivered. “You… ever sat in on an ‘interrogation’ like that?”

“Kind of. I was in the observation room, though, not the interview room. And I wasn’t technically supposed to be there. It was right after Tres officially took over as my mentor. He… took me downstairs for the beginning of it. We left about ten minutes in because they got the info he was interested in pretty quickly. Didn’t see how it ended. Tres never told me and I never asked. I saw plenty.”

“Was it Kai doin’ the questioning?” Reno asked. She seemed to be the go-to for this kind of thing. He wondered if she just handled all of it by default. But Rude shook his head in the negative.

“No. It was Tseng. I don’t think I was ever actually afraid of him until I saw some of what he did to the guy. Took me a few weeks to really feel comfortable around him again.”

The redhead blinked in surprise. Somehow, he’d never pictured his own mentor doing what he’d watched Kai do earlier. It seemed so far removed from the Tseng he knew… but then again, Tseng was kind of the ultimate professional. He did what needed to be done, and the only time Reno had personally seen anything really affect him was when his sister had mistakenly gotten caught in the crossfire. Maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched after all. He shrugged and filed the thought away for later.

“Hey… so… how bad’s your leg hurtin’?” Reno asked, changing the subject. The other rookie raised an eyebrow.

“… Why?” he cautiously asked, and his friend snickered.

“‘Cause… Tseng’s got me in this… er… yoga class… as a new part of my training. And I figured since you’re sidelined anyway, maybe you’d wanna come with me if you’re feelin’ up to it.”

“Not sure I’d be able to handle much stretching right now,” Rude replied. “Wouldn’t mind coming to watch, though. Always thought that kind of thing looked sort of interesting.”

“Yeah? So how come you’ve never tried it out?”

The older rookie flushed pink. “… I… Those classes… They always seem to be mostly girls,” he stammered awkwardly, “I was always too shy to sign up.”

Reno grinned widely. “Oh, come on, man… You gotta be over that by now.”

“Well, yeah…” Rude replied, “… mostly. I guess.”

“So ya wanna come watch? Starts in about twenty minutes.”

“Sure. Why not?” he said at last.

“Great! Let’s go!” the redhead replied, still grinning. Rude eyed him suspiciously.

“… Thought you just said we had twenty minutes.”

“Yeah… well… I kinda need to make a little side trip. To the Weapons Department. To see about gettin’ my EMR fixed.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and sighed. “I don’t really wanna risk runnin’ into Scarlet without someone to watch my ass.”

Rude’s eyebrows shot up. “When did you piss off Scarlet?”

“I didn’t. Yet. And I’d like to keep it that way. I just… ‘kay, fine. I’ll level with ya. You’ve heard the rumors ’bout how she’s bangin’ half the company ’cause the president dumped her, right? Well… I think she’s got her eye on me now. And much as I enjoy gettin’ laid, somethin’ tells me screwin’ a board member won’t end well for me. Plus she’s like… Veld’s age. It’d be like doin’ my grandmother… if I had one.”

The other rookie snorted in laughter and shook his head. “Actually, I think she’s closer to Tseng’s age…”

Reno rolled his eyes. “You comin’ with me or not?”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Rude chuckled, as he reached for his crutches. “If only to see what happens if you actually do run into her.”

---

“More Turks will be arriving shortly,” Tseng said, snapping his PHS shut, “I assume you’ll want to be included in the investigation wherever possible?”

“I’d appreciate it,” Viridia confirmed, “But what in Titan’s name are we going to do about this? Replacing the captain isn’t an issue really. Yorik’s next in line, and he’s a good man. But we have no idea what Captain Turrant may have told them. Or if he told them anything of importance at all.”

“And we likely never will. The people who did this are long gone,” said Tseng, “However… that’s not what concerns me.”

“What, then?”

“Junon is as secure as secure gets,” he replied, and smiled faintly at the woman, “You see to that yourself, and I know better than to question your commitment to keeping it that way. Which begs the question… how did they get in, take him prisoner, and get out with not one single person noticing? I can think of only one possibility. A traitor in your ranks. Perhaps more than one.”

“That’s one hell of an accusation to be leveling at any of my men, Tseng,” Viridia said, coolly.

“I know. But unless you have a better explanation…”

Viridia ran a hand through her spiked hair and sighed. “I don’t need shit like this… I have enough to deal with on a daily basis as it is,” she grumbled. “Alright… let’s say there is a traitor. It would have to be someone innocuous. Someone who doesn’t stand out. My security teams don’t take their job lightly. If anyone was acting suspiciously, they’d have heard about it. Maybe someone in the infantry, or a recent recruit.”

“I recommend looking at anyone who has stood guard duty at the base elevator in the past forty-eight hours to begin with,” he said, handing over the scrap of paper he’d found in the fire. “Most of it is burnt beyond being legible, but the elevator is specifically mentioned.”

“I’ll check the duty rosters as soon as we get back and get you a list of names.”

---

Reno jolted awake and struggled upright in bed, gasping as his eyes scanned the room, heart pounding in his chest. The water-filled mattress undulated slowly underneath him. He began to relax as he realized where he was. And where he wasn’t.

He’d largely been joking around about having bad dreams about the interrogation… but apparently his subconscious had taken those jokes seriously and run with it. And only narrowly escaping the Weapons Department with Rude that afternoon before Scarlet walked in and noticed him probably hadn’t helped. He groaned as he flopped back down against his pillow. She’d made an appearance in his nightmare as well. He hadn’t been quite so fortunate in his dreams as he had been in real life. She’d caught him before he could scramble into the safety of the elevator.

“Yeah, fuck you, too, brain…” muttered as he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. After about fifteen minutes, he finally decided it wasn’t happening. The redhead yawned and rubbed blearily at his eyes as he extracted himself from the sheets and climbed out of bed. He grabbed his pillow and a blanket and carried them into the living room. Hopefully a little late-night TV would chill him out enough that he could grab at least a couple more hours.

If that didn’t work… maybe he’d take a walk. Sure, there wasn’t much to see in the neighborhood in the middle of the night, but circling the block once or twice would burn off some energy and wear him out. Though, to be fair, he was pretty worn out as it was. Maybe he’d get lucky and the infomercials would knock him out so he wouldn’t have to resort to that.

Reno grabbed the remote and settled down on the couch, making himself comfortable. He flipped on the TV and was greeted by the voice of a saleswoman hawking some kind of ‘tactical flashlight’. He snorted softly. The things people were willing to buy when they were half asleep.

Of course, he was hardly one to talk. He still had the ‘portable sauna’ he’d bought off one of those shows awhile back sitting somewhere in the back of his closet. It was, not surprisingly, junk… but he’d paid almost seventy gil for it. He just couldn’t bring himself to toss it.

The redhead yawned and let his eyes drift shut, the droning voices on the infomercial gradually lulling him back to sleep.

When he was jolted awake a second time, it had nothing to do with his subconscious. In fact, at first, he wasn’t quite sure what the hell was going on. It took him far longer than it should have, in his sleep-addled state, to zero in on the television screen and realize that it was what had suddenly started emitting the blaring tone that had woken him.

Reno grimaced and pushed himself upright, running a hand over his face and blinking the sleep out of his eyes. The grating noise had stopped, only to be replaced by an urgent sounding voice. He groped for the remote and turned up the volume.

“– are advised to remain inside their homes until authorities issue an all-clear notice. Again, Midgar is under an unknown attack. All residents are advised to remain inside their –”

Before it was finished, the power cut out and the screen went dark, and Reno was suddenly very much awake. He ran back to his bedroom, expecting his phone to start screeching at him next with a summons to report to the office… but it was mysteriously silent. He flipped it open, vaguely confused, and realized that he had no signal. No service.

Well… that probably wasn’t a good sign.

~end chapter 77~