Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 8: A New Mission

“Aren’t you gonna say anything to him about almost gettin’ me stomped like a bug?” Reno griped as they trailed Ashland along a wooden walkway and into a wide opening in the rock. He glared at the vice president. “The little jerk did that on purpose, ya know…”

Rufus gazed smugly over at the redhead. Tseng sighed in exasperation.

“Rufus and I will be having a conversation. Later,” he replied, and the smug expression quickly dropped from the executive’s face. Reno smirked at him, and quickened his pace. He could hear Ashland snickering from just ahead of him. The former Turk shook his head.

“Who’d’ve thought Tseng would turn out to be a real disciplinarian when he finally grew up,” he chuckled, and glanced back over his shoulder, “Don’t think for a second I’ve forgotten just how much of a pain in the butt you were as a rookie! Half thought your poor mentor’d be the one retiring instead of me by the time we got you trained up.”

Unless Reno was very much mistaken, Tseng’s face took on a noticeably pink hue at the comment.

“I’m quite certain I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

“Mmhmm… sure you don’t,” Ashland snickered. “So… how’s Petra doing? Heard she got promoted not so long ago. Her family’s awfully damned proud of her.”

“Whoa, hey now… Don’t go changin’ the subject on me here…” Reno cut in, grinning, “… I definitely think I should hear more about what a pain in the ass Tseng used to be.”

“No, you shouldn’t. The last thing I need is for someone to put more ideas in your head than you already come up with,” Tseng replied, pointedly stepping between Ashland and his protege, “Your own creativity when it comes to causing mischief is plenty.”

Ashland laughed again and glanced back at Tseng. “Finally got yourself a taste of your own medicine, eh? That’s karma for ya… Let me guess. This is the infamous protege Veld’s mentioned once or twice in his letters…”

The small group broke off from the main passage way, and stepped into a roomy chamber where a fire burned invitingly in the hearth. A young woman was seated on a thick rug in front of the fire, playing with a little boy.

“Tseng… you remember my youngest, Ada, don’t you?” Ashland said, sweeping a hand towards the pair. “And this here’s her boy, Jack.”

The Turk lieutenant smiled. “I do indeed remember her… though, my recollection of her is of a thirteen year old girl, not a young mother…”

Ada giggled, and corralled her son away from the hearth.

“And I remember you as the Turk that Papa always claimed was either broke or in the process of spending his entire paycheck at Wutaiian restaurants…” she replied, teasingly. Tseng stammered and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Okay, seriously… someone’s gotta tell me all these stories about Tseng as a rookie,” Reno broke in. “Ya can’t just tease a guy like this.”

“Unfortunately, we have rather more important matters to discuss,” Tseng quickly replied, shooting him an annoyed glare. “Ashland… Veld would like you to come to Midgar for a short while.”

The former Turk’s bushy eyebrows rose in curiosity, but a moment later, he shook his head.

“I put that life behind me a very long time ago,” he responded, “I’m not interested in coming out of retirement.”

“I know. And Veld knows that, too. If it weren’t important, we wouldn’t be asking,” said Tseng. He paused momentarily before continuing. “One of ours was badly injured yesterday. She’ll recover, but not in time for a rather time sensitive assignment. Underwater work was always your specialty…”

Ashland laughed. “Tseng, I haven’t been in so much as a kiddie pool in almost five years! Not since our last family vacation to Costa del Sol… Just what is it you’re expecting me to do? Fly off to Midgar, slap on a wetsuit, and jump in the nearest ocean?”

“No… simply to train someone else to do so and provide guidance. Kai is the only Turk with that sort of certification at the moment, but she apparently won’t be in any condition to pass on that knowledge for quite some time. And while we have a somewhat flexible window to work with, it’s not limitless. We need someone who knows what they’re doing, and who understand our training practices.”

“Absolutely not,” a new voice interjected, and Reno was treated to the sight of both men having to physically force themselves to hold their ground as an older woman, her gray hair tied up in a tight bun, swept into the room. “Ashland, don’t you dare. You’re too damned old to go running off, playing at being a Turk, and I’m too damned old to go back to worrying about whether you’re coming home or not.” She stuck her finger in Tseng’s face, and continued her tirade. “If you want to go around risking your life an a daily basis, you go right ahead, but don’t you dare try and drag my family back into it! You can just go home and tell Veld to find someone else!”

Rufus scowled and stepped forward.

“Now you see here… You can’t just – mmmph!”

The vice president’s reply was quickly cut off as Reno clamped a hand down over his mouth and dragged him off to the other side of the room.

“Uh… heh… Me ‘n the VP’ll just… ya know… wait outside, alright, boss?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He just bodily “escorted” the older boy out, leaving Tseng, who looked notably relieved by the development, to continue the discussion without them. Rufus squirmed relentlessly against his captor as he dragged him away from the former Turk’s home, finally elbowing the redhead hard enough in the gut that he was forced to let go.

“Take you hands off of me, slum rat!” he hissed, glowering at the Turk as he spun around. Reno crossed his arms over his chest and glowered right back at him, in no mood to deal with Rufus’ bullshit anymore for today.

“Well, if ya weren’t actin’ like a total asshat, I wouldn’t’ve had to haul your ass outta there,” he shot back. “We’re tryin’ to talk the guy into helpin’ us… and he’s not gonna if we start a fight with his wife! Seriously, man… you do not piss off a lady… ‘specially one who’s married to a Turk. Not if you wanna walk away with your balls still attached, anyway…”

Rufus snorted in contempt. “I hardly think she has any say in the matter.”

“Oh, yeah? I’d put good money on herhavin’ the final say on this. Wanna bet another five hundred on it?” the redhead said, smirking. As much as he loved women… he made it a point to never underestimate them. They had a lot more power than most men gave them credit for. Especially the ones who knew it and knew how to use it. Sometimes for good, and sometimes for evil.

Lira was kind of like that, come to think of it… He had a hard time ever saying no to her. Not that he often wanted to, given that the question was usually ‘do you wanna to have sex?’… Though, to be fair, if there was the promise of sex on the table, he’d probably have done just about anything else she wanted, too, and he wasn’t the least bit ashamed to admit that. She knew how to exploit his weaknesses, and most of the time, he was perfectly fine with it.

On the other end of the spectrum, he grudgingly had to admit, was Scarlet. She knew how to exploit weakness, as well… though in her case, it was her position in the company that gave her the upper hand, rather than sex appeal.

Reno much preferred being exploited by Lira than the shameless executive.

Rufus rolled his eyes and stomped off to a small opening in the cave wall that led out onto an overlook. Reno hurried to follow before the brat could get himself into further trouble.

“But while we’re on the subject of you bein’ a total asshat…” the redhead added, forcibly putting any thought of Scarlet out of his mind, “… what the hell did you think you were doing pickin’ a bar fight like that!?”

“Watch… your… tone…” Rufus spat… but this time Reno wasn’t going to let the little brat get away with his usual power trip. He’d crossed a fucking line today. That stunt could’ve landed them both in a world of hurt. His gaze locked with the Shinra heir’s, and for several long seconds the pair simply stared one another down, each waiting for the other to concede defeat. Rufus was the first to break eye contact.

“… I thought it would be funny,” the young executive admitted after a moment.

“Tch… and people say I have a warped sense of humor,” Reno muttered, “You almost got your face punched in. And my face punch in!”

“I didn’t think –”

“Yeah, see… there’s the fuckin’ problem. Ya didn’t think. You just figured you’d play your bullshit little games ‘n try ‘n make me look stupid…” he said, scowling, “Ya know… I like a good joke as much as the next guy, but that’s goin’ too damn far. And this isn’t the first time you’ve pulled shit like that on me, either. Ya know… just in case you forgot about that time ya shoved me in the pool when I couldn’t swim… or the time I ended up in a frozen lake ’cause you were throwin’ a temper tantrum… or the time ya fuckin’ shot me… I’m gettin’ kinda sick of it.”

Rufus turned away from him, and muttered something under his breath. The redhead’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“What’d you say?”

The vice president growled as he spun to face the Turk, a look of supreme irritation etched on his features. He glared at him for a moment, clearly not happy about the thought of repeating himself.

“I said, I… apologize,” he at last ground out through gritted teeth. Reno blinked in shock, and for a short while could only stare in complete silence. Rufus Shinra didn’t apologize. Ever. Hell, he hadn’t even managed an actual “I’m sorry” when he’d accidentally shot the Turk in the arm.

He briefly toyed with the idea of milking this unusual turn of events for all it was worth, just to see how contrite the spoiled executive really was… buuuut he decided that taking the high road on this one would ultimately be more satisfying.

“Apology accepted. Don’t fuckin’ do it again. It’d be pretty hard for me to protect ya if I ended up beaten to a pulp and tossed over the side of a cliff.”

“Frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t been, already…” Rufus replied, seeming to relax a bit and brushing some non-existent dirt off of his sleeve. “I would have thought someonesurely would have tried before now.”

Reno grinned. “What makes ya think they haven’t?” he joked. Rufus rolled his eyes and made his way back inside.

“By the way… you forgot to mention the time I spiked your lunch with Costan wraith peppers…” the executive said with a faint smirk.

“Oh, no… I didn’t forget. But see… that one was actually funny,” the redhead replied, “Ya know… after I stopped feelin’ like I’d swallowed a sandwich full of lava. Just for the record? That shit burned goin’ in and comin’ out.”

Rufus paused and shot him a truly disgusted look. Reno’s grin only widened.

“For two fuckin’ days…” he added.

---

Liam frowned thoughtfully as he pressed the button to call his target back from the end of the range. It was a… decent… grouping, but he was sure he could do better. He spared a glance over at Petra’s target and shook his head. The woman almost never seemed to miss… and she was even better with her crossbow than a gun. Her speed was less than ideal with her weapon of choice, owing to having to reload between shots, but then… if you hit what you were aiming at the first time, odds were that you didn’t need an immediate second shot.

He himself preferred his knives… or, barring that, his hands and feet did just fine on their own. He understood why all Turks were expected to be proficient with a firearm, but that didn’t make him any fonder of them. They were noisy, and cumbersome, and lacked finesse, in his opinion. He wasn’t a ranged fighter anyway. He was more like Rude. He liked being up close and personal in a fight.

The senior Turk’s preference kind of showed during training, too. He was much more enthusiastic in the training hall, sparring with them. Or maybe it was just the Rude didn’t really enjoy giving lessons – after all, sparring was just as much practice for him as it was for the rookies. Liam wasn’t quite sure which. Not to say that Rude wasn’t a competent teacher… he just never seemed as into it as some of the other Turks did. Reno and Kai were by far his favorite instructors. Kai pushed them relentlessly to exceed their own limits, but somehow knew just when she needed to back off for a while. And Reno…

Well… Reno always seemed to know exactly what was giving them trouble and how to go about fixing the problem. He’d realized that about a week ago when Liam have found himself unexpectedly kidnapped, along with his other fellow-rookies, and treated to dinner. He’d been having a hard time getting to know the rest of the team at first, and the redhead had somehow picked up on that.

Plus… while Reno could be a bit too loud and hyperactive for Liam’s personal taste, he was exceptionally adept at explaining a concept to someone who just didn’t catch on to something right away. And given that – if the rumors were true – he’d basically started off as a rookie with no training whatsoever, that was pretty impressive.

In more ways than one. Liam had been in the recruitment program for just shy of eight months before being promoted… and he still felt more than slightly inadequate at times. If he’d had to just start being a Turk with nothing to draw upon, he was pretty sure he’d have had a nervous breakdown his first day on the job.

Actually… he damn near had, anyway. He snickered quietly to himself, remembering the explosion that that greeted him almost the moment he’d stepped off the elevator his first day… and the expression of rage on Remy’s face as she’d stormed down the hall to investigate, Tseng hot on her heels, already preemptively yelling at Sato. He’d later discovered that such explosions were a fairly regular occurrence around headquarters.

They were a weird bunch. But Liam was okay with that. He was perfectly aware that he was a little weird himself. A slightly uncertain start aside, he was starting to feel as though he fit right in… in a way he never really had before.

---

“Heh… read ’em ‘n weep,” Reno said, grinning has he laid his cards down and fanned them out in front of him on the table. Rufus rolled his eyes as the Turk collected the pot. It just figured the damned slum rat would turn out to be a card shark, as well. He never should have suggested it… but staring at the obnoxious little pain in the ass in silence while they waited for Tseng’s return had proven unbearable, particularly once they’d retreated to the helicopter. And besides… Rufus had wanted a little practice. His father had insisted that his son start joining him for his weekly poker game. A “good networking opportunity,” as he’d put it. The elder Shinra regularly played with other Midgar businessmen. It was part of maintaining a good relationship with his company’s backers and suppliers.

Truth be told, Rufus had no issue with the logic of such an activity. He just wasn’t looking forward to joining the game. He was terrible when it came to gambling. Cards, especially. He tossed his own hand down onto the table and scowled.

“What in Ramuh’s name is taking Tseng so long?” he groused, as the redhead shuffled the deck for the next hand.

“Heh… Dunno, sir… but I’m up a hundred ‘n eighty gil at this point. Long as I keep winnin’, he can take as long as he wants. Ante up,” Reno replied, tossing a five gil note onto the table.

Rufus glared at the smug son of a bitch, but stayed silent and threw in his own money. Reno glanced up at him, frowning slightly.

“Uh… ya do know you can quit whenever ya want, right?”

“Of course I know that, you imbecile,” he muttered, “But I’m hardly going to improve if I don’t play, now am I?”

The Turk’s eyebrow rose in curiosity and he shrugged. “Why the sudden need for a practice session? Got some big game comin’ up?”

Rufus snorted in contempt. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, as a matter of fact.”

Reno snickered and handed him the deck. “Hope you got a limit on bettin’, then… You suck, sir. You’re deal.”

“Who asked your opinion, anyway?” he snapped, quickly dealing out the cards and then snatching up his hand before biting back a growl of frustration. Not so much as a pair. He heard the Turk laugh again and glanced up at him.

“Ya know, if you wanna actually win a hand or two, ya might try not lettin’ the people you’re playin’ against know how bad your hand sucks the second you look at it…” he sniggered, redirecting his own gaze down at his cards, and placing another note in the pot. “Ten gil.”

“Fine,” Rufus grumbled. He rolled his eyes and matched the bet.

“Heh… really shit hand, huh?” the redhead replied with a smirk. Rufus didn’t dignify that with a comment. The Turk’s grin widened. “I’ll just keep what I got.”

“Ugh…” Rufus groaned, before setting most of his hand face down in front of him. He dealt himself four new cards and picked them up. His second draw actually hadn’t been all that bad. Two pair, jacks high. But the slum rat was looking at him at if his hand was utterly unbeatable.

“Raise ya twenty,” Reno challenged, that insufferably grin spreading even more widely, if that were physically possible, over his face.

“I fold.” After all, what was the point of losing more money on a hand the redhead was obviously going to win? Reno laughed in victory and set his hand down face up before collecting the pot.

“Shoulda called, sir. I didn’t have shit.”

Rufus sputtered for several seconds, as he noted the cards the Turk had been holding. Nothing… Not a damn thing. He could have won with a pair of Ramuh-forsaken twos.

“I HAD TWO PAIR!” he finally bellowed, angrily glowering at the smug son of a bitch. Reno calmly collected a cards, and reshuffled them.

“Ya want some free advice, sir?” he asked after a moment. Rufus narrowed his eyes at the redhead, and steepled in his fingers in front of him.

“Very little in life is ever free…” he noted, “… but go on.”

“Poker’s fifty percent mind games ‘n fifty percent plain old luck. You’da won that round if you’d called my bluff. Heh… actually, you’da won at least three rounds earlier ’cause I got shit luck and I tend to bluff a lot. Only had one really good hand since we started. Quit payin’ so much attention to the cards, and start payin’ more attention to the player. And… ya know… sometimes ya just gotta risk losin’ if you wanna win.”

“What are you two doing now?” a long suffering voice interrupted, and Rufus turned in his seat towards the door of the helicopter. Tseng – and somewhat to his surprise, Ashland, as well – was standing there, gaze slowly shifting from one young man to the other.

“Just playin’ a friendly game or two while we wait for ya to finish up, boss…” the redhead replied. Tseng pointedly eyed the pair and the small pile of money on Reno’s side of the table.

“Friendly?” he queried.

“Tch… well, it’s no fun, if ya don’t bet. ‘Sides… it was Rufus’ idea.”

Rufus heard the former Turk to Tseng’s left snort softly in amusement as he clapped the Turk lieutenant on the shoulder.

“Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it, Tseng,” he chuckled and slipped past him, taking up the seat beside the redhead in the luxurious helicopter. The Wutaiian sighed and shook his head.

“At least it seems to have kept you both out of trouble… Put those away. We’re leaving for Midgar,” he said, nodding to the cards. Reno obligingly tucked the deck of cards into his travel bag, and then turned to Ashland.

“Soooo… Since we got a few hours to kill, how ’bout tellin’ some of those stories about Tseng as a rookie,” he said with a wide grin. Tseng, who had been just about to notify their pilot that they were ready to depart, suddenly straightened up in his seat and turned to Ashland with a slightly panicked expression.

“Tell him nothing!” he hissed. Rufus’ eyebrow rose, curious. He’d been quite young back when Tseng had been a rookie, and really hadn’t even known the man until he’d been with the Company for well over a year. He had to admit… he was slightly intrigued to discover just what the poised and polished Wutaiian was so desperate to leave to the annals of history rather than discuss with his precious protege.

“As vice president, I believe I can override that order…” Rufus interjected, with a slight grin of his own.

~end chapter 8~