Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 98: Everyone Loves a Parade

“Now in’t that a pretty sight?” Saya sighed, eyeing one of several monitors that was currently showing the morning sun, rising over the mountain range off to the northeast of Junon. She stood up from her chair and pressed her palms into the small of her back, stretching out tense muscles. “Cissnei, the next time I have the bright idea ta spend my entire shift sittin’ down, do me a favor ‘n talk me outta it, eh?” she chuckled, “Oof… I’m goin’ ta need a quick jog ’round the base ta limber up b’fore breakie…”

The rookie grinned. “Hey, you were the one who wanted the ‘easy job’, remember?” she replied.

“Aye… ‘n now I remember why I usually volunteer fer patrol duty on surveillance assignments,” the Mideelian chuckled, “Bloody boring starin’ at a TV half the night.” She rolled her neck back and forth a few times, working out the kinks. “Well… nothin’ fer it now, I s’pose. I’ll have plenty o’ walkin’ ta do taday, anyway… that’s fer sure.”

Before Cissnei could respond, the electronic lock pinged and Tres and Rude entered the Turks’ temporary headquarters.

“Mornin’ all,” Tres greeted them, with an almost jubilant smile.

“Now, what in the wide world’s got yeh in such a good mood?” Saya asked. The other Turk merely snorted a faint laugh.

“You kiddin’? I get to really put this surveillance network through its paces today. Things work out nice, I’m puttin’ in a request to upgrade the network back home, too. Or at least outfit headquarters with some new cameras… The ones I stole… er… borrowed… from building security are top of the line. Beat my old pieces of crap by a mile on resolution.”

“Hmph… just what we need. More cameras in the office,” Saya said, rolling her eyes. She turned to Rude, a teasing expression on her face. “Try ‘n keep that mentor of yers under control, will yeh? Every time Tres gets new toys ta play with, we all suffer. I swear… if I find a camera in the ladies’ room sometime next week – again – oneof yeh’s gettin’ tossed off the roof. And I make no promises as ta which.”

Cissnei snickered quietly behind her hand, and Rude shook his head.

“I’ll do my best,” he hurriedly replied. Saya laughed and turned to go.

“Well, then… come along Cissnei. Let’s leave these two nosy bastards ta their day o’ spyin’ on everyone ‘n their mother. Either of yeh want us ta bring yeh back some breakie?”

“Nah, we ate before we headed over,” Tres replied, still grinning, “We’re good.”

“Have fun at the parade,” Rude chimed in, and the rookie laughed.

“I don’t think we’ll see very much of it. Saya and I are working crowd control. I have a nagging suspicion that only thing I’m going to be watching are the spectators,” she said, following Saya out the door.

With that, they stepped out in the bright morning sunshine, and headed for the mess hall. Cissnei had to admit… they’d ended up with a beautiful day for a parade. The sky was clear, the wind off the ocean was calm, and the temperature was forecast to be just perfect for a day outdoors. It was just plain… nice.

She was so busy noting how nice out it really was that she didn’t notice that Saya had slowed her pace until she nearly walked right into the woman.

“So…” the senior Turk began, conversationally, before grinning widely “When in Odin’s name are yeh goin’ ta get around ta askin’ out that handsome hunk of Turk we just left back in the hanger?”

Cissnei felt her face grow hot and sputtered for a moment before stammering a reply.

“W-what? W-who… Rude? I-I’m not… I don’t… um…” she finally managed, cringing internally as she trailed off. There was no talking her way out of this one. If the spastic reply didn’t tip Saya off that her denial was less than heartfelt, the fact that she was pretty sure she was turning the color of a tomato certainly would. Saya laughed and paused in her trek towards breakfast.

“Well, I certainly didnae mean Tres,” she chuckled. “Poor thing… Yeh’ve got it bad fer him, don’t yeh…”

“… Please don’t say anything…” she moaned, hiding her face in her hands.

The fact was, she’d been crushing hard on the recently-promoted Turk for… well, almost as long as she’d been a Turk herself. Rude was so sweet and funny and clever, once you got him to talk to you. He was just a little shy, that’s all. It had made it a bit harder to befriend him, but that was one of the things she found so endearing about him. She was terrible at hinting that she liked him, though, apparently. Nothing she did seemed to clue him in to the fact.

Or maybe it was just that Rude didn’t see her like that. Reno certainly didn’t seem to. Or at least, he’d never tried hitting on her, the way he did with just about every other woman in the general vicinity of his age in Midgar. She had actually been just a little miffed about that initially… until she realized that she thought of the redhead as just a friend, as well.

Rude, though… she really hoped that with him, it was just a case of him being oblivious to her attempts at flirting.

“Oh, sweetie… I think just about everyone but yer lover boy already knows… or at least suspects,” Saya teased, and Cissnei groaned again. “Yeh take my advice. Some ‘o them wee boys just cannae take a hint. Yeh gotta practically hit ’em over the head with it ta get through ta ’em.”

“… Well… maybe…”

The idea of making the first move filled her with inexplicable dread, however. For one thing… what was she supposed to do if she made an idiot of herself telling him how she felt, and then found out that he wasn’t interested. Like… at all. Humiliation on top of heartbreak didn’t sound like the most appealing combination.

For another… well, she wasn’t entirely sure if he was even still single or not. True, he hadn’t mentioned any current love interests, but… then again, he hadn’t talked about his previous girlfriend, either. Hell, she hadn’t even known he was dating someone back when they’d first met until she’d heard from Reno that the woman had dumped him. And he didn’t talk about her then, either. Cissnei had long been under the impression that Rude kind of liked to keep his private life private.

He loved to talk about his interests, though. Cooking… airplanes… even some of Sato’s lessons in demolitions had entered into their conversations recently… and of course, that new show everyone on the planet seemed to be watching lately, Shadow & Sword. She’d started watching it, too… mostly just so she had an excuse to chat with him about it.

But when it came to more personal topics, like his love life, or his family back home, he tended to change the subject as quickly as possible.

“Yeh know what yeh need, don’t yeh?” Saya continued, as they started towards the mess hall again. Shinra army soldiers were out and about… most rushing off to their duty shifts, but some merely taking the time to enjoy the quiet morning before the madness began.

“I’m not sure I want to know…” Cissnei said, hesitantly, and the senior Turk snickered.

“Yeh need yerself a matchmaker… ‘n if I were yeh, I’d recruit the redhead.”

Cissnei blinked. “You think I should ask Reno to set me up with Rude?”

“And why not? The two of ’em’s thick as thieves, aren’t they? Way I hear Tres tell it, Rude met his ex ’cause ‘o Reno. Er… ‘n apparently got drop kicked ta the curb by her ’cause ‘o him, too. But… eh… maybe dunnae mention that bit when yeh ask,” she replied, muffling a laugh, “‘Sides… Reno’s the honest sort. If he dunnae think yeh’ve got a chance with ‘im, he’ll tell yeh upfront.”

As they reached the door to the mess hall, she caught sight of Reno and Remy, hurrying off in the opposite direction, apparently having just finished their own morning meal. They didn’t stop to chat, and Saya laughed softly at the sight of the redhead being all but carried off by the senior Turk to their next task of the day.

“… I’ll think about it,” Cissnei muttered, noncommittally, feeling her cheeks begin to heat up again. Even after so much time as a Turk, she wasn’t entirely used to people voicing their opinions on things like that. Back when she was just a lowly recruit, she’d heard how tight-knit the Turks were… but those rumors didn’t even scratch the surface. The reality was like suddenly having a whole slew of brothers and sisters and cousins and aunts and uncles. Not having any family of her own… it was quite an experience. Not a bad one, by any means, but one that still had the ability to catch her off-guard every now and then.

Still… even when it did catch her off-guard, she couldn’t help but be glad for it.

---

Reno stifled a yawn as he watched Rufus debate over which jacket he was going to be wearing in the parade. He felt as though he’d been up for hours… which, he belatedly realized, he had been by now. Remy had dragged him – almost literally, in fact… it was only the last moment realization that he’d gone to bed nude that had stopped her – out of bed before the sun. She’d ordered him to put some clothes on and then did literally drag him to the mess hall for breakfast before even the soldiers were in line… and then dragged himback to his room again to get ready. He’d spotted Saya and Cissnei heading in for food just as he and Remy were leaving, but Remy was on a mission, and he hadn’t even had time to say hello. He distinctly heard Saya chuckle, though, as he was hauled bodily away. That had to have been at least two or three hours ago now.

He was now – at Remy’s insistence – dressed in a neatly pressed uniform, complete with tie. He’d finally decided to forego the accessory altogether months ago, but apparently today he had to look extra professional. The damn thing felt like it was trying to strangle him.

Still… even he had to admit, he cleaned up pretty good. He’d even made a solid attempt at taming his hair this morning, which, given its tendency to do whatever the hell it pleased, was no small feat. Overall, Remy had seemed satisfied with the outcome before she’d left him and run off to wrangle the President.

Rufus, meanwhile, was left to the redhead…

“Would ya just pick one already, sir?” he sighed, “The parade’ll be over by the time we get outta here, at this rate.”

The vice president looked up from his options and glared at the Turk.

“Oh, forgive me, for wanting to project an air of sophistication and culture at an historic event that will be televised live across the entire planet,” he said, dryly.

Reno rolled his eyes.

“Wear the white one,” he said, decidedly.

“Hmph… and just why should I take fashion advice from the likes of you? Despite you’re minimally acceptable appearance this morning, you normally look like you dress by simply stumbling face first into your laundry pile and hoping for the best.”

The redhead had to try hard not to laugh at the mental image that conjured up for him. He had to admit… that was good one. He’d have to remember that.

“Tch… I’m just sayin’. Ya know everyone else in the parade is gonna be wearing black or gray or at least somethin’ dark. You wanna get noticed, white’ll stand out. Trust me. I might not know shit about fashion, but I do know a little bit about standin’ out in a crowd.” He smirked slightly. “‘Sides… makes it easier for me to keep track of ya, just in case ya decide to try ‘n run off somewhere without me.”

The vice president snorted and turned back to his options for a moment before grudgingly selecting the long, white jacket.

“I want to be very clear that I am not taking your suggestion,” he said before Reno could comment. “I merely happen to think this one will be more comfortable when the day starts to warm up later.”

“Of course, sir,” the redhead replied, though he didn’t think he was entirely successful at keeping a straight face. That declaration aside, Rufus seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood this morning. It was somewhat contagious, too, as Reno had quickly found himself a bit swept up in the excitement of the parade and the treaty. He glanced at his watch. Speaking of the parade… “Uh, sir? We really are gonna be late for the parade if we don’t leave soon.”

Rufus snorted in contempt.

“They’ll hardly start without me…” he shot back, but quickly pulled on his jacket and tucked his phone into the the inside breast pocket. “Alright, let’s go.”

---

Tseng was tapping his foot somewhat impatiently… a habit he didn’t often indulge in, as he’d always been taught that fidgeting was a sign of an undisciplined mind… as he glowered at his watch. Eight after nine. They were already nearly ten minutes behind schedule, and neither the President nor Rufus had yet arrived. The parade was supposed to be starting… Now!

The back door to the staging area opened, and the Turk lieutenant breath a partial sigh of relief at the sight of Rufus, escorted by Reno, making his way over to him.

“There… you see?” the young executive snorted, eyeing the redhead. “I told you they wouldn’t start without me…”

Tseng smirked and covered the remaining distance between them.

“They very well might have… were your father not also running a bit late,” he opined.

“Hmph… I hurried for nothing, then,” Rufus replied, and the Wutaiian Turk caught the faint hint of an eyeroll from his protege before it was quickly quashed and replaced with a more professional mask. Apparently he was practicing for when he had to stand at the ready beside his charge while he was on stage later. Tseng had overheard Remy earlier telling him that such things wouldn’t be tolerated during the President’s speech. “Which car am I riding in?”

“Right this way, sir,” Tseng said, gesturing towards an older model, red and gold roadster with an open top. Reno eyed the car with what the Turk lieutenant could only describe as pure envy as the vice president made his way over and climbed in.

“Hey… uh… outta curiosity, what’s somethin’ like that thing go for back in Midgar?” he asked in a quiet tone, as the pair moved to follow the young executive. Tseng chuckled.

“More, I suspect, than you can presently afford… even with your recent raise. I believe that particular car is something of a rare antique President Shinra purchased from the owner of the Gold Saucer for an undisclosed, but almost certainly exorbitant, sum.”

“… Figures,” the redhead sighed, somewhat dejectedly.

“Though… I think we can probably find you something in the same vein that’s a little closer to your budget. It’s about time you stopped taking that Leviathan-forsaken train every day, after all,” Tseng added, “Perhaps we can see what’s available this weekend, if you haven’t already made plans…”

Reno breathed a noticeably relieved sigh. “Boss… you have no idea how glad I am I don’t have to beg you to help me out with that,” he said, grinning. “Spendin’ that much money all at once is fuckin’ scary.”

“You’ve already been looking then, I take it,” the Wutaiian Turk snickered.

“… Kinda. When I got time, I sometimes stop by a couple places on the way home after work. And every time I do, I start thinking that maybe the train’s not so bad,” he laughed, before vaulting himself over the side of the car and into the back seat, beside Rufus.

“Must you be so uncivilized?” the vice president sneered, “It has doors for a reason.”

“Must you always cram that stick so far up your ass, sir?” the redhead shot back, and Rufus sputtered for a moment, trying to find an appropriately witty response.

“… Silence, slum rat!” was the best he could come up with, which only caused the younger Turk’s grin to widen.

“Both of you… behave yourselves. This is an important day, and there are cameras everywhere. And I don’t mean Tres’ security network,” Tseng said, warningly… with a very pointed look at Reno that practically screamed at him not to antagonize the young executive unnecessarily. The last thing he needed was Rufus taking some sort of ill-thought-out revenge on the redhead later for one of his jokes.

“… Yes, sir,” Reno replied, admonished. Tseng turned his gaze on Rufus.

“Hmph… I will conduct myself in public with decorum and poise, as I always do,” he said, haughtily. The Turk lieutenant nodded and turned to just in time to see the President’s arrival, Remy not far behind him, and hurried off to see to getting the final pieces into place. But not before one final comment from Rufus, directed at his protege, reached his ears.

“… Once we’re in private, again, however… all bets are off. You’ll pay for that comment.”

“Bring it on, sir,” he heard Reno answer, and could just picture his grin growing to epic proportions. Tseng mentally groaned and pretended he hadn’t heard anything.

---

“Heh… ‘Bout damn time. There they go,” Tres commented, eyes on his security monitors. Rude looked up from his checklist, just as the little parade begin to leave the staging area. Outside, he suddenly heard the cheers of the crowd, muted by the walls of the hanger.

“Fourteen minutes, starting now,” the younger man nodded, tapping the button on the timer his mentor had set up at the makeshift workstation. They’d worked out the timetable for the public events of the day from start to finish. Well… for the most part. They’d been given a copy of the President’s speech but… well, the man loved to hear himself talk. Tres had been adamant that he’d eventually go off script when he and Rude had been timing the remarks last night, and insisted on building in an extra thirty minutes, minimum. Overall, they had that part of the ceremony pegged at about an hour twenty-six.

Then would come a very brief introduction of their Wutaiian guests by Rufus, a few short remarks from Lord Godo, and finally the actual signing of the treaty. All in all, a whole lot of pageantry for a couple of signatures. After that, the Junon troops and the other Turks would begin wrangling the spectators towards the exits while presidential security escorted the ViP’s to the tram car that would deliver them to the top of the base, where lunch would be served while the public departed and the base was re-secured. And then, the scheduled tours of the base, culminating with dinner, before their guests finally left for home and the President and Rufus were flown back to Midgar.

It was going to be a very long day. The two of them watched in companionable silence for several long minutes, scanning the feed from each camera as it rotated through.

“Hey… Either ‘o yeh arseholes listenin’ in?” Sato’s voice suddenly crackled over the radio. Rude, snorted a faint laugh and picked up the handset.

“We’re listening,” he replied.

“We’re always listening,” Tres amended, smirking slightly.

“No time fer jokes…” Sato said in an uncharacteristically serious tone, “Might’nt be anythin’ ta worry ’bout, but I spotted someone lurking a wee bit too close ta the tram a minute ago. I’m leavin’ my post ta check inta it.”

“Acknowledged,” Rude said and glanced over at his mentor, who was already pulling up the video feed for that area.

“Let Tseng know Sato’s on the move while I run the footage back,” Tres said. Rude nodded and turned his attention to radio. It took only a moment to deliver the update, and by then the senior Turk had found the suspicious character on the video. He shook his head.

“Shit angle… can’t see much,” he muttered, “I knew we needed another camera over there.”

Rude didn’t comment. There were already so many that they couldn’t watch them all at once… hence why they’d missed whoever that was in the video. Tres was right, though. It was a shit angle. The man’s face wasn’t visible… but it was more than clear he didn’t belong there. He was making it a point to stay out of sight in the shadows, and though he looked to be wearing a Junon military uniform, it was so ill-fitting on his rather bulky frame that it was almost laughable. And then he moved just enough that Rude could see his arm.

“Shit…” both he and Tres breathed, simultaneously. The tattoo was plain as day, and they both knew damned well who it belonged to. That was Istev… the mercenary group’s resident bomber. Rude grabbed the radio to warn Sato, but the other Turk was already broadcasting.

“Code red! Someone’s left us a nasty wee surprise over here. The kind that blows up if yeh look at ‘er funny.”

Tres was already sending the emergency abort code out to the other Turk’s PHS’s. How the hell had Istev gotten in to Junon?!

“Sato…” Rude replied via the radio, “We have Istev on video in that area just a few minutes ago. Can’t be too far from you.”

“Much as I’d love ta wring that behemoth turd’s neck fer yeh, I think I’m better use here. Ain’t no remote fer this bastard. She’s on a timer, ‘n I’d wager Istev learned from his past mistakes usin’ one. She’s no dud. I’m tryin’ ta finesse ‘er, but yeh’d best clear the whole area ’round the tram, just in case.”

“Understood,” he said, and looked over at Tres. “Sato says to get everyone away from the tram.”

“One step ahead of ya, kid. Already taken care of,” he replied, “But that bein’ said, we’re gonna have a mess out there. Won’t take people long to figure out somethin’s up. Son of a bitch is probably countin’ on it, too. Fucker’ll slip into the crowd ‘n vanish, just like every other time we got close to ‘im.”

The senior Turk scowled at the monitors, as if torn between continuing to watch and doing something else entirely. At last, he growled softly and stood up.

“Watch the cameras and find that bastard. I’m headin’ out after him. Soon as you get a lock on him, left me know where to aim the gun. He is not gettin’ away from us again.”

“But…”

“He is not gettin’ away from us again,” Tres repeated, before snatching up his PHS and striding out the door and into the quickly developing chaos.

---

Reno watched as they moved slowly down the main strip of Junon, a seemingly endless sea of people lining the sides of the street. The cheering was almost overwhelming. Rufus, though, seemed to think almost nothing of it, perched calmly on top of the metal panel on the back of their car that hit the convertible’s collapsed top underneath. He waved unhurriedly to the spectators, and for the first time…really, ever… Reno realized that a lot of women took an interest in the Shinra heir. Hell, at least a couple of the girls along the parade route had flashed the vice president… much to the redhead’s enjoyment.

For some reason, the thought had never crossed his mind… though now that it had, it made sense. Rufus was rich, powerful, and none too shabby when it came to looks. Any woman that did manage to capture his attention for more than the few seconds it took for her to flash him her tits would have it made. The guy was pretty much the textbook definition of “eligible bachelor”.

Though he didn’t seem too interested in the ones currently throwing themselves at him. Then again… given how much importance Rufus put on appearance – by which the redhead didn’t mean who had the biggest boobs – he doubted any of those girls had much of a chance. The Shinra heir was probably more in the market for someone with a little more… what had he called it earlier? Decorum and poise? At least in public…

Giving someone a quick look at the goods with live television cameras rolling probably didn’t fit that description so well.

They were coming up on the tram now, which was nearly the end of the parade route. They’d pass under the track, stop at the end of the street, and then the speeches would start. That part, Reno wasn’t exactly looking forward to. He’d never actually had to sit through a presidential speech since becoming a Turk… but he’d heard stories of the man going off on long, drawn out tangents that would put even his most ardent supporters to sleep. More to the point, he wouldn’t have ever thought that the first time he experienced it, he would be standing on stage watching the Vice President’s back.

He was… just the tiniest bit nervous, to be honest.

Sure, he typically loved having all eyes on him, but… there were a hell of a lot of eyes out there today. At least he wasn’t what they actually came here to see. He was relegated to the background. That knowledge made the thought a little easier to bear.

Ahead of the car, Reno could see Remy and the President… who was waving with far greater enthusiasm than his son. Apparently President Shinra didn’t have any qualms about the size of the crowd. From what the Turk could see, he was thoroughly enjoying himself. So, too, was Rufus, albeit in his own, more controlled way.

They were only about fifty feet from the tram when the emergency tone sounded from his PHS. He didn’t even read the message. That tone meant one thing, and one thing only, as far as his roletoday went. Shit was about to hit the fans, and Rufus needed to be secured.

Without hesitating, the redhead stood up, grabbed the older boy by the arm, and pulled him bodily down onto the seat, pushing him safely below the metal sides of the car. In almost the same moment, the driver made a sharp turn down the first side alley, one of four potential escape routes Veld had mapped out, and floored it. The Turk could already feel his heart racing.

A part of him wanted to jump out of the car and lend a hand to the others who, he was sure, were already dealing with the problem. But right now, Rufus’ safety was his one and only responsibility. He was supposed to stick to the brat like glue, no matter what else may have been going on, and that’s what he fully intended to do.

“What in Ramuh’s name… ?!” Rufus demanded, and tried to sit up, but Reno held him firmly in place.

“Stay down, sir… Not sure what’s going on, but it’s not good!”

---

“You got a bead on ‘im yet, kid?” Tres’ voice queried over the radio.

“South runway… heading towards the elevator.”

It hadn’t take Rude long to spot Istev on the cameras. The guy kind of stood out like a sore thumb. Dressed as he was, he looked too military to be a civilian attendee… but too out of uniform to be actual military on a day like today. It didn’t hurt that he was also rather frantically elbowing his way through the crowd to make his escape.

“Don’t lose sight of the bastard!” Tres responded. Rude caught a glimpse of his mentor as he briefly passed by one of his own cameras at a dead run towards the southern tarmac.

“Saya and Cissnei are closing in on him,” he replied, noting the two Turks’ position on another monitor. He shifted the camera currently trained on Istev, getting a better view of the man. Suddenly, he turned sharply to the right and sprinted down an alley, disappearing into the shadows. Rude swore softly and pulled up another feed.

“He just changed directions. Tseng… he’s headed your way! Should come out near the weapons shop.”

“Acknowledged,” the Turk lieutenant’s voice answered over the handset.

“Shay! Rodney! Where the fuck are you two?” Tres demanded, anger and irritation clearly evident in his voice. Rude wasn’t sure if is mentor was more pissed off that Istev had somehow gotten onto the base, or that one of the others might beat him to his target. For Tres, hunting the bomber had become a personal vendetta… particularly after Luca’s death. Even though there was no evidence that Istev had been personally responsible, he and Fuhito were behind the plot, and it was one of Istev’s explosives that had put Luca in the wrong place at the wrong time to begin with. Tres wanted him… the deader, the better, as he’d once told him.

“We’re covering the elevator, just in case he gets past you,” Shay replied.

“He ain’t gettin’ past me…”

Rude watched as Tres started down the same alleyway Istev had, before turning back to the feed that showed their target emerging from the far end… just in time to see Istev get unceremoniously clotheslined by Tseng. He smirked slightly at the sight of the man who’d caused them so much trouble laid out flat on the ground, in pretty obvious pain. Bastard had it coming.

Before the Turk lieutenant could secure him, however, a hail of gunfire rained down from the roof one of the nearby buildings and Tseng was forced to take cover behind a dumpster. The Turk swore again and hit the controls to pan up for a view of the roof.

“Sniper on the roof!” he radioed to the others, warning them before they could run into the line of fire. Rude squinted at the figure perched on the building. He was surprisingly young… Wutaiian, or at least part Wutaiian… with wire-rimmed glasses and short, neatly cropped hair. Something about his cold and calculating demeanor as he relentlessly kept Tseng pinned down while Istev clambered to his feet and fled sent a chill down Rude’s spine. Somehow… he just knew he was looking at the infamous Fuhito.

He didn’t have a whole lot of time to ponder that sudden revelation, however, as at that moment, Tres emerged from the alley, firing upwards, towards the gunner. Saya and Cissnei, too, had arrived on scene, and were laying down additional cover fire so that Tseng could get clear. He saw that Turk lieutenant take the opportunity to join his mentor, and take aim at the sniper.

Istev, by then, had crossed into view of a new set of cameras, and Rude turned his attention to tracking him.

“Shay… Istev’s headed for you and Rodney. The others are busy dealing with Fuhito,” he radioed out to the pair stationed near the base’s only land exit.

“We’re on it!” the senior Turk replied.

“Cissnei’s hit!” Saya’s voice suddenly cried out, and Rude felt as though all of the air had been forcibly driven from his lungs. He turned back to the other monitor just in time to see her dragging the wounded rookie to cover. It was then that the shooting from above simply ceased, and when he panned back up to search for Fuhito, the man was gone.

“Rude… Where’d that son of a bitch disappear to?!” Tres growled, and the younger Turk frantically set about trying to locate him. He wasn’t on any of the feeds, however.

“I… I don’t know. I can’t see him,” he replied. He heard the very distinctive sound of his mentor swearing, and saw him take off towards the elevator. Cissnei seemed to wave off Saya’s further attempts to help her, and moments later she and Tseng sprinted after him, leaving the rookie behind.

“Fuck it… we can still get Istev!”

Istev, too, had vanished from the monitors… but only because he’d slipped down another narrow alley. There was only one way out of there, and he ought to be showing up again any moment now. Shay and Rodney were both in a good position to intercept him.

Which was why, when he didn’t emerge, Rude knew something was very wrong.

---

“Sir, we need to go help them!” Kai protested, as she and Veld hurried to meet the presidential transport in one of Junon’s secure hangers.

“We need to make sure the President and Vice President are safe. That is priority one.”

Before she could answer, two cars squealed into the hanger and stopped mere feet from the pair of Turks.

“Sir,” Veld said, hurriedly opening the car door, and helping Remy to escort the President out, “If you’ll come with me…”

“What is going on?” President Shinra demanded, but obligingly fell into step behind the Turk leader. Rufus, along with Reno and Kai, brought up the rear.

“We found a bomb, sir,” he said, “It’s being dealt with, but those who planted it are still in the city and may have additional backups we haven’t located yet. We’re getting you out of here. Now.”

“If it’s ‘being dealt with’, I hardly think there’s a need to call off the whole –”

The President didn’t get to finish that sentence. Far too close for comfort, a sudden explosion rocked the base, leaving both the executive and his son staring somewhat wide-eyed back in the direction they’d come from. President Shinra cleared his throat awkwardly.

“… Y-yes. You’re right. I think we’ll be leaving now.”

~end chapter 98~