Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 15: The Missing Turk

“Sweet mother ‘o Titan, I hate reactor checks…” Sato announced as he and Liam made their way into the lounge. “Boring as all Hades…” He paused upon seeing the other two rookies. “What’s up with yeh two. Yer lookin’ like Veld told yeh he’s takin’ away yer puppies. ‘N where the bloody hell’s everyone else?”

Sykes and Petra looked at one another for a moment before the female rookie finally spoke up.

“Veld’s in his office. Or at least he was a little while ago. Rude left for somewhere after the briefing, Remy and Cissnei were sent off on a ‘high priority’ assignment, and… Reno and Tseng… aren’t back yet…” she said, and the senior Turk caught a distinct undercurrent of worry in her voice.

“Mmhmm… ‘n just what is it yer not tellin’ me, lass?”

“Reno got hurt,” Sykes offered, “We… No one’s told us anything! Veld’s been holed up in his office, all the other senior Turks were in the field until you walked in, and Petra and me have just been sitting here useless!”

Sato blinked in surprise at the frustrated barrage of information. What in the name of Odin’s toenails had been going on since he and the newbie left this morning? He hadn’t exactly expected to return to a nearly empty office and a couple of rookies who were practically beside themselves.

“Alright, alright… Don’t yeh go gettin’ yer titties in a twist. I’ll see if I cannae find out what’s goin’ on. Wait here,” the Mideelian Turk hurriedly replied before turning on his heel and heading straight for Veld’s office. Just as he was about to knock, however, the man himself appeared in the doorway, a look of intense displeasure inscribed across his features. Veld stopped just short of walking straight through the other Turk.

“Sato… Thank Shiva,” he breathed, and the Mideelian raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Things must be bad if I’m gettin’ that sort ‘o welcome…”

“To put it mildly,” Veld acknowledged, “There was a… mishap… during Reno and Tseng’s mission. Apparently Reno has been poisoned by something we’re relatively certain was developed by the biologics department, and he and Tseng are both delayed in Junon. Rude has gone missing in Wall Market, and Remy and Cissnei are out looking for him. And I’ve just been ordered to report to the board room for Kjata only knows what… Hold down the fort here and handle any new assignments that come in. Use the rookies if it’s something you think they can handle with minimal supervision, and if anyone checks in with an update, send a message to my phone immediately. And for Titan’s sake, don’t blow anything up!”

“Yeh can count on me, sir,” Sato replied, following his superior to the elevator. “Er… the rookies are more’n a wee bit worried ’bout the redhead, though. Anything I can tell ’em ta put their minds at ease?”

“The last I heard, he was stable. The anti-toxin had arrived from Midgar and was being administered. That was nearly an hour ago, and I’m afraid that’s all I know at the moment. If you can get ahold of Tseng, feel free to ask for an update… but as I recall, the Junon medical bay is rather strict about PHS usage on the ward. He may not answer immediately,” he said, stepping aboard the elevator and pressing the button for the sixty-sixth floor. The doors slide shut, leaving Sato in charge of both headquarters and a group of worried rookies.

He sighed.

“Guess it’s Turkling-sittin’ duty fer me, then…”

---

“… This place always creeps me out,” Cissnei noted as she and Remy stepped out of the train station and into the sector proper. She hadn’t had the “pleasure” of visiting Wall Market many times, but the few times she had, it was always the same. People – mostly men, but not a few of the women as well – looked at her like she was a piece of meat on display. No matter where she went, she felt eyes on her. It put her on edge.

“I’m not exactly a fan, myself,” Remy replied in distaste as she pointedly avoided crossing the path of a particularly skeevy-looking denizen of the redlight district who was unabashedly staring at the two women, one hand in his pants pocket. “Come on. Rude usually meets his Sector 6 informants at the bar on the main street. We’ll start there.”

Cissnei obligingly followed the senior Turk down the main boulevard. Wall Market was an… odd… place. It was full of pimps and prostitutes, perverts and the occasional junkie… but the businesses in the sector positively thrived, most places were reasonably clean and in good repair,and crime was minimal compared to other parts of the Slums. Don Corneo was, by all accounts, a remorseless, cruel, twisted excuse for a human being, but he kept the whole damn place in line. He’d turned his little corner of the Slums into what could almost be considered a tourist destination, enticing even those who lived above to come and experience the carnal pleasures of places like the Honeybee Inn or the smaller, less expensive whorehouses that made up a significant portion of the sector’s business community. If his business model hadn’t been so thoroughly predatory, she might have even been tempted to be impressed.

They passed by a small eatery and then a clothing shop before finally reaching the little bar. A bit farther down the street, she could see Corneo’s personal compound… a surprisingly opulent dwelling, considering they were deep in the Slums. She trailed Remy through the door to the bar, looking around at the afternoon crowd. The place was, by no means, packed, but they seemed to be doing steady business, in spite of the relatively early hour.

Rude had once told her that he preferred to have his first meeting with informants in bars they happened to be regulars in whenever possible… because the bartender’s reaction to them walking through the door often told him exactly how big a pain in the ass they were going to be. It was a trick he’d apparently picked up from his mentor. Remy had said this was a newly recruited contact… so the meeting location made a lot of sense.

But, that begged the question… What had gone wrong? Rude was no fool, and he’d been doing this sort of thing for quite some time now. And he certainly wasn’t stupid enough to let some stranger lure him off somewhere. Had something happened to him on the way to the meeting? Or had he vanished afterwards?

Cissnei hung back while Remy walked up to the bar, keeping an eye on the patrons. No one looked particularly suspicious. In fact… at least a few of them didn’t look like slum dwellers at all. They were too well dressed and positively oozed a touristy vibe. Almost certainly Plate residents down for a good time. A few moments later, Remy returned to her side.

“Anything?” Cissnei asked.

“He was here. The bartender said a man matching Rude’s description came in a little before ten and ordered a drink, sat around at one of the tables for about half an hour, and then left. I’d guess that his contact was a no-show,” the senior Turk replied.

“Then he would have headed back to headquarters, wouldn’t he?”

“One would assume,” said Remy, “Which means that something happened between here and the office that prevented that.”

So… where, then, had their missing Turk taken an unexpected detour? Remy seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

“Alright… We’ll check with the other businesses on the street. Perhaps he stopped in one of them,” she continued, “I’ll take that little diner we passed on the way here. You start with the boutique. Surely someone saw something.”

---

Reno moaned softly as he experimentally flexed his fingers. Every last inch of skin that slimy shit had touched still felt as though it were on fire. Though at least he could breath normally again. That had had him freaked the hell out for a little while. It had felt like some fatass was sitting on his chest.

“Still a wee bit sore are yeh?” Dr. Ward asked, glancing up from the article she was reading in some medical journal. The redhead had asked what it was about, earlier, out of curiosity… but based on her summary, it was way over his head. There really wasn’t much Ward could do for him at the moment, besides keep him company… but the woman had stubbornly refused to leave him to his own devices.

“How long’s this shit gonna take to heal?” the Turk groused.

“Likely several days. Maybe a week,” the doctor replied, and the answer was met with yet another groan. Several days to a week? Great. That was all he needed.

“Tch… guess I’m not gonna be cookin’ for Rude after all…” he muttered. His hope had been that when the Doc had said he’d be spending the next few days in bed, she was erring on the side of caution, and that, really, once the medicine she’d given him got to work, he’d be back to normal in a day or so. Apparently not. “The fuck am I gonna do stuck layin’ on my back in bed for a goddamn week or more?”

“Language,” Dr. Ward chastised, and the redhead rolled his eyes.

“Doc, I am in no fuckin’ mood to censor myself right now just ’cause you don’t like hearin’ a few bad words,” he grumbled, in irritation… Irritation that only grew when the doctor chuckled lightly.

“Well, now… yeh must be feelin’ at least a wee bit better if yer back ta yer usual complaining about that.”

“Leave me the hell alone. I feel like shit…” he muttered, pointedly turning away from her.

“Hmph… Yer a terrible patient, yeh know,” Dr. Ward teased. Reno turned back to her, glaring.

“Yeah, well… you’re a terrible doctor!” he spat back. Ward stared him down, raising an eyebrow in challenge, and the young Turk immediately cringed. He hadn’t really meant that… he just felt lousy. “… I’m sorry,” he murmured. To his surprise, the doctor barked a sharp laugh.

“Apology accepted. I meant that, though. Yeh really are a terrible patient, my little headache,” she replied, reaching out a hand to gently stroke his hair for a moment. “Being under the weather turns yeh downright mean. Lucky fer yeh, I’ve dealt with far worse in my day.”

“Tch… Like who?” he asked, somewhat self-deprecatingly. He’d be the first to admit – when he felt better, that is – that Dr. Ward was right. He could be a real asshole when he didn’t feel so great. Being laid up and and in pain did seem to bring out the worst in him.

Ward chuckled softly. “That obnoxious pain in my backside yeh dragged out of retirement fer one. Yeh’ve got nothin’ on that old goat.”

“Heh… Let this petrified cow keep talking and she’ll tell ya all about how the day I retired and moved halfway across the world was the best day of her Ifrit-forsaken life,” a voice added from the door. Reno glanced over and spotted Ashland standing there, arms crossed over his chest. Ward narrowed her eyes at him.

“Visiting hours are over fer the day,” she said, coolly.

“Well, too damn bad,” Ashland replied, plopping into the chair on the opposite side of the redhead’s bed. “There’s flight headin’ for the general vicinity of Cosmo Canyon in an hour, and I plan on being on it. Just wanted to say goodbye to the kid.”

Ward’s eyes narrowed further. “Don’t yeh take that tone with me, Ashland Parker. Yeh’ve got ten minutes. Ten. And if yer not out of my hair by then, I’ll drag yeh ta that plane myself.”

With that, the doctor gathered up her reading material and swept from the room in an angry rush. Reno eyed the former Turk.

“… What’d you ever do to piss off the Doc like that?” he asked when she was out of earshot. Ashland somewhat sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and flashed him an awkward grin.

“We were… uh… somethin’ of an item once upon a time,” he replied. “Things didn’t exactly end on the friendliest of terms.”

Reno blinked. “… Wait. You and the Doc?”

Ashland laughed outright at the vaguely grossed out expression on the younger Turk’s face.

“I’ll have you know Justinia was a damn fine lookin’ gal back in the day…” he said, fondly, and shook his head. “And just as big a know-it-all pain in the backside as she is now.”

“So… if ya hated her so much, why’d ya get together with her in the first place?” the redhead asked out of somewhat morbid fascination. Ashland grinned widely.

“Never could resist a challenge,” he laughed. “Anyway… you’re on the mend and, like I said, there’s a plane heading for home… so I just stopped in to say goodbye. You take care of yourself, kid. Stop by if you’re ever in my neighborhood again. And keep that mentor of yours on his toes. Can’t have him getting too comfortable, now, can we?”

Reno snickered. “I think the boss would disagree with ya on that… Pretty sure he’d love it if I never got myself into trouble ever again.”

“Sounds like a terribly boring way to live if you ask me,” Ashland said with a wink.

---

Cissnei hadn’t had any luck at the boutique. Or the weapons shop. Or the gym. At last, she’d thought to stop and talk to a few of the women on the street corners. The first three hadn’t panned out… but the fourth… she thought she’d seen someone who looked like Rude heading down a nearby alley awhile ago. Maybe.

It, admittedly wasn’t much to go on, but she supposed it was better than nothing… so Cissnei had hurried off in the direction the young woman had pointed her in. A few steps in, she realized that she recognized the route. It was a shortcut Rude used to get to the Sector 6 train station. He’d showed it to her one of the few times she’d ventured down here with him as backup.

‘Okay…’ she thought, ‘So he was definitely heading back to the office… The question is, did he make it to the train, or –’

Something crunched loudly underfoot, interrupting her train of thought, and she instinctively looked down.

“… Oh, no…” she breathed, hoping it wasn’t what she was almost certain it was. Her stomach dropped as she bent down and picked up the familiar, and now bent and cracked, frames. She reached for her PHS and dialed Remy’s number.

“Remy here,” the senior Turk answered on the second ring, “Did you find something?”

“… Yeah… I did,” Cissnei replied, clutching the broken sunglasses protectively, “And it’s not a good sign…”

---

Tseng and Ashland had stopped briefly at the base’s mess hall for a quick lunch before the Turk lieutenant had at last escorted his old friend to the tarmac to catch his ride home. He had to admit… he was a little sad to see him go. But he also understood the desire to take his leave. The entire mission had seemed to have brought up a lot of less than pleasant memories for the man, and though things had turned out alright in the end, Ashland seemed to want nothing more than for it to be over and done with once and for all. Tseng had dutifully tried to relay the former Turk’s desire not to be tapped again for assistance in the future to Veld shortly after the plane had left, but his call had been sent directly to voicemail. He assumed that he’d been called into a meeting or some such request that required a do not disturb to be enabled.

It was of no consequence. He could simply tell him when he returned to Midgar.

Which, if Dr. Ward had her way, would likely be sometime this evening. She was already seeing to the necessary measures to have Reno transferred to Midgar General Hospital as quickly as possible. He couldn’t stay in Junon anyway, even if the base’s medical staff objected. He would need a second dose of anti-toxin eventually, and it was, at present, in the process of being manufactured back home. He would receive it far sooner in Midgar than he would if they had to courier it to Junon again.

Besides which… as much as he wished he could stay with the redhead until he was well again, he would be needed back at the office sooner rather than later. Justinia, too, had other patients to tend to and would have to return. He didn’t want to both leave Reno here alone and remove him from her personal care if it wasn’t strictly necessary… and he doubted Reno would be thrilled with such an arrangement, either.

As he made his way back across the tarmac towards the medical center, he couldn’t help but think just how incredibly fortunate they’d been. Yes, Reno had been badly injured… but he somehow managed to survive not only the initial attack, a near drowning, and being poisoned… but also managed to be poisoned by a toxin for which an antidote was almost immediately available. The redhead frequently joked that he had truly awful luck – and indeed, some very odd and unfortunate things did tend to befall him on a fairly regular basis – but the truth was, he was perhaps one of the luckiest people Tseng had ever met. He always seemed to walk away from it in, more or less, one piece. Still… in the back of his mind, a part of him worried that such luck as Reno experienced wouldn’t last forever.

He generally tried to keep that part of his mind firmly under control, however, for his own sanity. It had been a long, grueling process, over the course of more than a year and a half now – and countless therapy sessions – but the ghosts of the past seemed to haunt him far less these days. At least, in so much as his every waking hour was no longer consumed by the fear that his protege could be unceremoniously taken from him at any given moment. He still felt very much to blame for his sister’s untimely death, and doubted that that would ever change. It had, though, become something that he could live with. He really had no other choice, after all. He couldn’t change the past. He could only learn from it.

And he did not intend to make the mistake of putting company loyalty before his family ever again. Not even if it conflicted with a direct order.

“Well, you look like you’re deep in thought,” a voice commented, and Tseng looked up to find Viridia suddenly standing in front of him. “Anything I can help with?”

Tseng smiled warmly. “No… I was just seeing Ashland off. And thinking about how fortunate we really were today.”

“How’s Reno?”

“Doing well. He’s improved enough to resume his usual constant complaining about being stuck in bed, apparently. Justinia intends to transfer him back to Midgar this evening.”

“That’s good to hear… though I suppose that means you won’t be joining me for dinner, then,” the security officer said with a sigh, and Tseng chuckled.

“I fear not.”

“Well, when that redhead of yours is back on his feet again, I expect a raincheck,” she teased. “But for now… I have a patrol to oversee. So just in case I don’t manage to catch you before you leave…”

Viridia leaned in an kissed him softly for a moment, before pulling away and smiling.

“And I expect you back soon,” she added, “Preferably not for a mission that lands you or one of your subordinates in the medical bay.”

“I’ll try my best,” Tseng replied, laughing softly, “but I make no promises.”

Viridia grinned and turned to go back to work. “Tell Reno to get well soon, okay?” she called over her shoulder. Tseng smiled as he watched her go, before resuming his course towards the medical facility. He only made it a half dozen steps or so when his PHS rang. He frowned slightly as he noted the caller ID.

“Tseng here,” he answered, “What is it, Sato?”

“Dunnae shoot the messenger,” the Mideelian Turk replied, “Veld’s tied up with the Board fer the next hour or two, so I’m just relayin’ what Remy told me. Assumed yeh’d want ta be kept in the loop.”

“What’s wrong?” Tseng asked. His first thought was that something had happened to one of the rookies during training… If Veld was busy elsewhere and Remy had been required to escort one of them to medical, it would explain why it was Sato that was contacting him, rather than one of them.

“Rude went missin’ earlier taday,” Sato said, “Remy ‘n Cisseni went down ta Wall Market lookin’ fer him… Remy just checked in. They think he mighta been ambushed on his way back. They dunno if he was taken captive or… worse. All they found were his sunglasses in an alley.”

Tseng swore under his breath.

“Alright… Inform Veld the moment he returns to the office. I’ll leave for Midgar as soon as possible.”

“Aye, sir. Will do,” said the other Turk, “Any updates on the redhead, while I’ve got yeh? The rookies’ve been a wee bit concerned…”

“Reno is doing quite well, all things considered. He’ll be out of commission for a week or so, but he’s recovering.”

“Er… are yeh goin’ ta tell him? ‘Bout Rude, I mean… Yeh know how close those two are. He’ll drive himself outta his head worryin’ ’bout him ‘n not able ta help…”

Tseng was silent for a moment. Sato was absolutely right. Reno hated being stuck in bed even at the best of times. Knowing that his friend might be in trouble would make things far worse for him. He sighed and shook his head.

“Yes, he almost certainly will… but I think he has a right to know,” he said at last. “I’ll be there within the hour.”

With that, he snapped the phone shut and doubled his pace towards the medical bay. It was a forty-five minute flight back to Midgar, with a six or seven minute pre-flight to go through. That left him, if he intended to meet his self-imposed deadline, just under ten minutes to tell Reno that his best friend was missing and that he was leaving the younger Turk here, hurt and alone, to assist in the search.

---

He could hear voices.

It was the first sound, besides the intermittent hum of the heating system and the rustle of the chain securing him to the wall that he’d heard since he’d woken up there. They sounded like they were several rooms away, and he briefly debated calling out for help. Ultimately, though, he decided it it was far more likely that the voices belonged to his captors than to anyone who might be willing to help him.

His head still ached. And he’d discovered a lump the size of his fist on the back of his skull, so the reason for the pain was fairly obvious. Someone had come up behind him in the alley, clobbered him over the head, and dragged him off to Shiva knew where. It was Wall Market… he could be damned near anywhere, really. Hell, he could have been tossed into the basement of the Honeybee Inn, for all he knew.

That particular thought disturbed him. Wall Market… well, Wall Market wasn’t exactly a bastion of upstanding citizens, but violent crime, at least, was fairly low in the sector. Don Corneo saw to that… because if people from the Plate were too worried about being mugged, or kidnapped, or raped, they’d stop coming down here, and that would put a sizable dent in his profits. The fact that someone had brazenly, in broad daylight – or as much daylight as Wall Market ever got, anyway – attacked and kidnapped him almost had to have been sanctioned by the Don. And given that he’d been down here to meet someone who was ostensibly prepared to turn informant on Corneo…

The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that the whole thing had been a setup from the start… though to what end, he didn’t know. It seemed foolish, however, from Rude’s perspective. Granted, Corneo and the Turks were never on the friendliest of terms – and at the moment, Corneo was particularly annoyed with them as they’d shut down a weapons buy on his dealer’s end not too long ago – but so long as they more or less steered clear of one another, they tended to reluctantly tolerate each other. Enough to – very occasionally – even work together, when it benefited them both.

There was just no good reason for Corneo to kidnap a Turk.

But if not Corneo, then who? No one else had that kind of pull down here. At least not in Wall Market. In the other sectors, maybe – some of the gang leaders over in Two wielded a fair bit of power, locally – but Don Corneo did not take kindly to other people encroaching on his home turf. Those who tried tended to disappear. Had someone grabbed him with the explicit intention of taking him away from Wall Market and out of Corneo’s territory?

Rude huffed in frustration. He couldn’t figure this out without more information. He just didn’t have enough to go on. His thoughts turned, instead, to escape. The chains were solid, and he had nothing to pick the locks with. Something told him that brute force wasn’t going to cut it in this instance.

With any luck, someone back at headquarters had noticed that he hadn’t checked in. He still wasn’t sure how long he’d been here, but surely he’d been gone long enough to raise some concerns by now. He’d just have to bide his time… wait for a either rescue or an opportunity to get himself out of this mess.

~end of chapter 15~