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Butterfly Effect: Chapter 38
Authors: Bard Linn and Kiraya
Genre: General/Drama
Pairings: ZackxSeph, Assorted Past
Rating (Overall): PG-13
Warnings: Violence, gore, death.
Summary: "This is not going to be fun."
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all associated characters and symbols are the exclusive property of Square Enix and its associates. We’re just borrowing them for a while.
Chapter 38
“Somebody has definitely been here,” Cloud said quietly to Vincent as he took another step into the darkness of the cave. “Recently, too.” He placed his hand on an empty tank. “Still warm — can’t’ve been emptied earlier than sometime in the last three days. The Mako residue is still active.”
“I can’t think of another scientist with this level of experience still living,” Vincent commented, carefully studying the lab’s contents. “It must be Hojo.” He turned his attention to a nearby computer terminal, and within a few seconds had cracked the system’s protections and pulled up the security system. “Full video of the area, though no audio.” He skimmed through the images quickly. “We appear to be the only…”
“Human?” Cloud supplied.
Vincent made a face at that. He wasn’t sure he would use that term. “In any case, we are the only ones not within cages or tanks.” He clicked a few more keys. “I see no evidence of the Jenova host.”
“Guess we should get back and get Sephiroth and Zack, then.” Cloud turned and Vincent followed, superior senses watching behind them. “I wonder when he left, what tipped him off. I mean, Zack said he didn’t get that close—”
“Perhaps he was monitoring communications on local ShinRa networks.”
Cloud looked skeptical. “Didn’t they just change the encryption passcodes after he left, though? Hojo may be a lot of things, but hacker’s not one of them.”
“It’s still entirely possible that he could have captured a company employee and gotten the information from them after the change,” the older man pointed out.
“It’s possible, but they’re paranoid enough that they probably would’ve gone and changed the codes again if something like that had happened,” Cloud noted. “They’ve been especially sensitive about disappearing employees ever since Hojo’s… unauthorized experiments came to light.”
Vincent hid a tiny smile. He’d missed these back-and-forth sessions. “It’s entirely possible a supervisor somewhere along the line chose to cover up such a disappearance,” he countered. “Hojo’s activities may have been distasteful, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have support within the company, outside his department as well as within it. Remember, we never did figure out who tipped him off before his escape.” They’d never found any evidence one way or another, but he still had his suspicions. It had been too much of a clean getaway.
Cloud pursed his lips. “Hadn’t thought about that,” he admitted. “Kind of a grim outlook there, but…”
“But we must always consider all possibilities, even the most dire.”
“Yeah…” As they stepped out of the cave, Cloud raised his voice a little to catch the others’ attention. “Someone’s definitely been here. Looks like three recently emptied Mako tanks, and there’s a whole bunch of other critters in there.”
Vincent tuned out Zack and Cloud’s banter. They hadn’t found much here, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something—
::Be wary:: came Chaos’ voice suddenly, like the crack of a whip, and his hand moved instantly to his gun as he turned with the others to see—
“It’s been a while, My Son.”
“Shit,” muttered Cloud, biting off the word almost savagely, and though Vincent did not echo his student’s exclamation, he could certainly understand the sentiment, his eyes narrowing.
Internally, he seethed at Hojo’s words. He and Sephiroth both had wondered about the man’s parentage. Supposedly the child had been of Lucrecia and Hojo’s making, but Vincent had found a few things that had seemed too similar between himself and the white-haired General. Perhaps it was all because of shared experiences; the one time he had been with Lucrecia had been nearly a year before Sephiroth’s birth, so the odds of Sephiroth being his natural child were nil. On the other hand, Vincent knew Hojo had had cell samples from every individual even peripherally associated with the project, and that included the Turks assigned to guard it. The theory had been more genetic donors would provide for more possibilities that might have just the right combination to ensure the success of the project. So Vincent could be Sephiroth’s father, and not know it…
One thing was for sure: Hojo had done nothing to earn the title.
“So how much of that is him and how much of that is her?” Cloud asked with some resignation, pulling the largest blades of Shiranui free from their places on his back.
“Much of the words are Hers, but She is not in the immediate area,” Vincent commented, startled at the uninstructed movements of his mouth. “Close, but not close enough that it should cause problems like last time.”
A bit of warning would be nice, if you’re going to pull something like that, he thought at Chaos with some resignation.
::This is too important to waste time on such trivial things,:: the spirit responded dismissively, its attention focused largely on their foe.
“Good,” said Cloud, of course unaware of their unspoken conversation. “I really don’t want to have to fight Sephiroth again.”
“Still,” Sinclair put in, always trying to be optimistic, “it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, four on one.” He frowned. “…what’s he holding?”
“It appears to be a detonator of some sort,” Vincent said tersely, “which would of course be why we haven’t attacked him yet.”
“Not fond of standoffs, Valentine?” Hojo inquired, a humorless smirk on his face. He looked rather worse for the wear since he’d left ShinRa; he was almost emaciated, shifting oddly under his labcoat, and his sallow complexion seemed to have gained an unhealthy ashy hue to it. “Perhaps We can relieve you of the pressure.” He pushed a button on the controller he was holding.
“Look out!” Vincent and Cloud shouted at the same time, hearing up on the sound of glass and metal breaking behind them. Surging out of the cave came the horde of monsters they had seen within, creatures that in the wild ranged from Mideel to Icicle Inn. At the same time Hojo turned and took off into the forest, moving with alarming speed away from his former lab towards the coast.
“Cloud, Valentine, take care of this. We’ll go after him!” Zack yelled as he sprinted after the scientist, Sephiroth hot on his heels and fast overtaking him.
“Got it!” Cloud called back as he beheaded a Jumping, rolling out of the way of an Edgehead’s electric burst while Vincent calmly took out a pair of desert sahagin with his gun, seeking higher ground to get a better view of the battlefield. Still, there are an awful lot of— uh oh. Cloud dropped to the ground again as he found himself face to face with a griffin, a harpy, and a hippogriff. This is not going to be fun.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Much to Zack’s irritation, the headache he’d been sporting for the last half an hour only increased as he ran after Hojo. He had a pretty good idea why, too. It didn’t take a genius to guess that Hojo had injected himself with Jenova cells, from the way he’d spoken and the way he was moving — there was no way he could’ve been this fast without some sort of enhancements — and he hadn’t exactly the best record of dealing with the creature. Then again, neither did Seph, and there was no way he was going to leave his friend alone to go after him. Unfortunately, though, this was going to distract both of them and hamper their fighting ability. They knew how to ignore pain, and to a lesser extent drugs — all SOLDIERs did — but this handicap came from another realm of attack, one on their minds.
Only a fool fights on two fronts. Of course, they also say life makes fools of us all, Zack thought as he continued to run, barely conscious of the weight of the Buster Sword on his back. Even so, he couldn’t help being excited despite the risks. This is what he’d been missing since he’d gone on leave. The time had left him rested and more than ready for a fight.
Hojo finally stumbled to a stop and turned to face them a short distance from the edge of some cliffs. Zack was vaguely familiar with the area, he realized as he slowed, hand moving to his sword. Everyone in town was told to stay away from it because of the swift currents at the bottom, not to mention the drop, though most of the kids (Zack included) had gone through the obligatory dare-to-walk-to-the-edge stage. The view was sure worth it, especially at sunrise—
Sephiroth was a blur, the Masamune already in hand, not even bothering to change his momentum as he charged—
—and was thrown back as Hojo exploded, cloth ripping and tearing as he twisted and shifted into some hideous purplish red thing that glistened wetly in the sun, twitching and shivering and brandishing a wickedly sharp claw on one arm.
He’s been experimenting on himself, Zack realized, utterly horrified as he stared at that mass of pulsating flesh and wrongness.
The monster laughed, and it sounded enough like Hojo’s that he growled as he readied his sword to charge into the fray to join Seph— only to feel the hilt slip from his fingers as he was overcome with an immense drowsiness. Damn, he thought, struggling to fight off the Sleep spell, but he hadn’t expected this—
The SOLDIER bit back a sound of relief as the tingle of an Esuna’s power swept through him, beating back the drowsiness. Seph didn’t even spare him a second glance, immediately returning his focus to their foe, but Zack flashed him a grateful smile anyway, picking up the Buster Sword and diving right into the thick of things. After all, if Seph was gonna watch his back, it was only polite to return the favor.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cloud dodged again, bringing the griffin’s magic-draining attack to bear on the harpy. Previous acrobatics on his part had managed to get a good portion of the other smaller creatures into range of its watery blast. Thank Leviathan there aren’t many monsters resistant to that. Vincent was busily sniping off the rest, while Cloud played ‘catch-me-if-you-can’ with the three avians. The harpy, no longer having the power to attack with its water-wave, lunged forward, only to find itself hamstrung as Cloud sliced upward, cutting across its legs. The scream it uttered gave credence to old legends; the SOLDIER didn’t have time to admire it as he ducked another attack, this from the hippogriff, and sliced the left wing from the creature’s body before lunging into the space left behind (not quite fast enough to escape a swipe from those claws, unfortunately) to hack at its back, severing the beast’s spinal cord.
A gunshot distracted him for a second. Vincent had apparently decided to join the party, shooting the harpy in the eye, ending the thing’s misery as his bullet blew through its brain. Which just left the griffin…
The blond dropped to the ground, leaving his blade pinning the carcass for a moment. The griffin approached, clearly furious its prey had evaded it for so long. Cloud moved backward, keeping the amount of distance between them just enough so that when the creature reared— his hand flickered to the side and snapped forward, releasing one of the throwing knives he had received as a birthday present years ago. His aim was dead-on, the metal sinking deep into the feathered breast and finding its heart.
“Good use of the enemy attacks,” Vincent observed. Cloud nodded, acknowledging the praise while gulping down a potion to ease the sting of the few minor wounds he’d sustained. Retrieving his weapons, he took a moment to clean the worst of the gore from them, then turned to his mentor. “Let’s go.”
It didn’t take long to find Zack and Sephiroth, considering the amount of noise the battle was making. Cloud muttered to himself as he ran, one hand hovering over the glowing green sphere in his armlet. He had worked with his Ice materia enough that it was almost mastered, and of all the elemental spells it was the most localized, making it the safest to cast in the midst of melee combat like this. He coaxed power through and out of the little stone, calling forth the most powerful magic it held — and grinned triumphantly as the massive crystals of a Blizzaga spell coalesced around their foe, startling it, causing it to shriek and level a baleful glare at him as the ice shattered.
The Second skidded to a stop near the edge of the cliff, preparing to cast again; with Zack and Sephiroth already fighting in close quarters like that, never giving an inch, there really wasn’t room for another sword. He and Vincent would have to do distance offense and healing, not that Cloud minded. From what he knew of the situation, Sephiroth more than deserved this kill—
The world tilted dangerously as the thing that had been Hojo lashed out, not at Sephiroth or Zack, but at him, its long arm slamming into his side with enough force to send him flying. Fighting down panic, Cloud made a desperate twisting lunge in midair, fingers stretching urgently towards the cliff edge—
—dammit, he wasn’t even close—
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was, a distant, impersonal part of part of Vincent’s mind noted, a great deal like one of those movies he had seen late at night when he couldn’t sleep and Sephiroth had been visiting Sinclair’s quarters. Cloud’s brilliant grin at successfully casting the highest level ice spell, the sudden attack by Hojo — who’d know, looking at that thing, that its arms could reach that far? — and his student’s wide-eyed face as he fell towards the rough waves crashing against the rocks far below. The rest of him was in shock that bleeding into the anguish of loss, quickly being overwhelmed by a rising tide of rage. How dare Hojo do this to his apprentice, his comrade, the man who was like a son to him—
Always before the transformations had seemed unnatural. Something else had taken his place, only to leave him disoriented when he returned, unsure of how he had gotten there with only a vague idea of had happened. This time Vincent embraced the change, pulling the demon’s anger close for the first time as wings ripped from his back and muscles shifted, calling the Lord of Mayhem into physical form once more. ::The earth will run with his blood!::
Sinclair had headed for the cliffs already, scrambling down them as fast as he safely could, a good thing considering he would have likely been trampled otherwise. Despite Chaos’ agility, though, he wasn’t faster than Sephiroth. The Masamune swept out, the General ignoring their foe’s attack and focusing entirely on the wounding, cleaving him in two — Chaos bit back a snarl at having this kill stolen but let it slide, though that didn’t stop him from savagely mauling the thing that had been Hojo through its death throes to make sure.
“I can’t find any sign of him!” Zack yelled, a note of desperation in his voice as his head popped back over the cliff, the rest of him hanging onto the weather-worn face. Sephiroth looked over at Chaos, still itching for something to destroy, and he— Vincent— they knew what the General was thinking. That fall, even for one enhanced, would not be an easy one, and Cloud was weighed down with his weapons… Had he even known how to swim?
“We’re coming, Zack,” the pale-haired man replied, walking briskly to the edge, but one look at his face and Vincent realized with a sinking heart that he too already knew what they would find.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It wasn’t unusual for Turks to be sent out of Midgar. While they often functioned as bodyguards, they also did a host of other jobs that took them all over the world.
Being a delivery boy wasn’t often one of them.
Frankly, Reno had suspected something was up the minute the President had ordered him to hand-deliver an envelope to that Bugenhagen guy. The Prez had claimed it had contained important material he didn’t want to risk on fax lines — they didn’t have a fax machine in Cosmo Canyon anyway — or in the hands of a regular courier. Reno had protested mightily to Tseng that message delivery was a trainee job, but to no avail. He had found his bags packed and a car waiting to take him to Junon in under an hour. And when he finally arrived at his ultimate destination, he knew he’d been right when the crazy floating-on-a-ball-man had opened the message to reveal the plans for the new air turbine that had been delivered to the canyon… a month ago. Yeah, the plans were good in case they needed to make repairs, but they were hardly urgent. Or that secretive. Geez.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, to top it all off, when he got back to Costa de Sol he found a note with a substantial amount of cash, basically issuing orders to take a short leave in the Sun City on company money until they sent for him.
Clearly, they wanted him out of the city for some reason. Reno was a bit peeved about that, but let it slide. After all, Turks weren’t supposed to question orders; besides, how often did you get to spend the company’s money on a bit of fun and not get in trouble for it?
So Reno had made a good show of it, hitting the beach by day and the bars by night, enjoying all sorts of company. Good times were had by all — well, mostly. The local authorities were less than pleased with him, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. One of the upsides of being a Turk. It was pretty damn fun to intimidate the hell out of people, and the company had enough clout that law enforcement was usually unwilling to detain him for long. Yeah, some of the assignments sucked, but you really couldn’t expect a job like this to be all fluff and rainbows, after all.
Still, his favorite thing about the job — well, besides having free access to all of Midgar and practically anywhere else. And the no-questions-asked thing. And borderline insubordination. And, well, a lot of things — was the impunity it offered. Peacekeepers the world over knew that when they heard the word “Turk” the best thing to do was stay out of the way. The only higher authorities they answered to were their leader and the President; if you were any other ShinRa employee, you just kept your head low and tried to avoid ‘em.
Reno had to admit he still got quite a kick out of toeing the line and even sometimes crossing it outright — though he’d been far worse about it when underage — and not getting caught, watching the local authorities grit their teeth in frustration at the immunity his job gave him. He had probably committed a few minor infractions last night on his rounds, nothing too serious, but really, he was stuck in Costa de Sol until Tseng decided to provide transport for him to get back to Midgar or give him a new assignment, and as nice as this place was it was still easy to get bored with the same crap after a while. So, being as he might have taken part in the graffiti contest on the beach wall last night, the knock on his door at five in the morning didn’t come at much of a surprise. The redhead pondered just staying in bed and making them wait, but last night’s companions were still asleep, and he’d have liked another round with the twins before he had to leave, so he decided it was best to get the door and let them rest.
The Turk answered the door without bothering to put anything on other than his boxers. He got an extra glare for his state of undress from the officer in charge, much to his amusement. Another just rolled his eyes, while the third averted his gaze. “Get dressed and come with us, Turk,” the leader said brusquely. “We need you to identify a body.”
“Me?” Reno tried to play innocent, but that smirk was fighting it every step of the way. “But I haven’t killed anyone. Not recently, anyway.” The youngster behind the leader paled a bit. Newbie, by the look of him. Reno was probably his first encounter with a Turk. He couldn’t help a bit of amused pride at that, though part of his mind provided Tseng’s lecture about professionalism quite vividly. Then again, he had heard it often enough.
“One of yours washed up on the beach last night.”
The amusement vanished to be replaced with a serious level of concern. The department wasn’t that big, usually less than twenty active Turks at a time, all told. He hadn’t heard of anyone even in this area. “Turk?”
“ShinRa, anyway,” the senior officer replied, shrugging as he affected disinterest. “SOLDIER, by the look of it.”
Now, Reno didn’t know every SOLDIER in existence, but he had met a good number of them. If nothing else, he should’ve been able to tell if it was the genuine article or not. “Give me two minutes.” He dressed quickly in the trademark suit, making sure electro-rod, gun, and PHS were at the ready, slipping a bracer on his arm more out of habit than genuine need. He briefly considered leaving a note for his sleeping companions, but discarded the thought almost immediately. Tender notes — heck, notes in general — just weren’t his style.
The beach had been partitioned off with that yellow tape one found the world over at scenes like this. Reno ducked under it automatically and headed towards the ocean, pace increasing as he caught sight of a familiar shade of red, gut twisting with foreboding. Ignoring the forensics people and the police behind him, he dropped to one knee. “Somebody get me a pair of gloves.” They were handed to him promptly, and he pulled them on quickly, rolling the body over.
It was a gruesome sight. Waterlogged and badly battered by the ocean currents, skin discolored by death, it wasn’t exactly something anyone’d want to look at. And yet, the face was familiar enough… Reno had a bad, bad feeling about this. He yanked a pale hair from the head, pulling out his PHS with his other hand.
“ShinRa Telecommunications Mainframe, Internal Communications, Western Continent Office. How may I direct your call?”
“Connect me to Matheson, Science Department Head. And tell him it’s urgent.”
“One moment, please.”
Reno refused to fidget as the call went to hold music before he heard the click of the connection being reestablished.
“Matheson.”
“This is Reno, of the Turks. I need a forensics unit sent to Costa de Sol ASAP for body ID.”
“Do we have a suspected identity?” Matheson asked over the click of his keyboard.
“It’s difficult to tell just from looking, but…” He sighed heavily. “Strife, SOLDIER Second Class.”
“Cloud?” The shock in the man’s voice took Reno by surprise until he remembered that the man’s daughter knew the SOLDIER. “What happened?”
“Dunno, but I intend to find out. In any case, we need the body properly contained — it’s definitely a SOLDIER.” ShinRa was understandably touchy about leaving their elite dead in others’ hands — there was always a possibility that an outsider might learn too much from an autopsy.
“All right.” A few more clicks. “The team is already en route, and I’m transmitting Strife’s DNA record as we speak. ETA is 0930 tomorrow.”
“One more thing. You’re in the main network, right? Can you pull up where Strife was supposed to be?”
“One second.” More clicking as Matheson called up the files he could access as a board member. “The vicinity of Cosmo Canyon, on a mission with Sephiroth.”
Hojo, in other words. “Right. I’ll contact him, then.” He disconnected the call, then turned to the police. “ShinRa is sending a team to take care of the body. We’ll require facilities to store it until they arrive, along with any equipment they request.”
“The morgue should have what you need,” one of the of officers suggested. “We’ll move it immediately.”
“Keep it contained. You never know what sort of toxins it could release.” It would do no such thing, of course. The only thing Mako could do in a corpse was poison something stupid enough to eat it, but it would keep these folks from messing with it until they had the proper facilities set up to do so, and with any luck the company’s forensics unit would have arrived by then. Even so, he’d stay with the body himself as much as he could. He owed Sinclair a few, and the department owed Valentine.
Only one last thing to do, then…
“ShinRa Telecommunications Mainframe, Internal Communications, Western Continent Office. How may I direct your call?”
“Connect me to General Sephiroth.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sephiroth watched as Zack hovered at the edge of the cliffs, the other SOLDIER clearly itching to jump in with the rescue and recovery crew they had called in from Costa del Sol. He had done some investigation of his own for a few hours, only to be pushed aside by the ‘professionals’ when they’d arrived. They had found signs of Cloud… but not much else. Most of his weapons, which had sunk to the bottom, had been recovered — the coastal waters were reasonably shallow here, under two hundred feet deep. All three had approved when they’d seen Cloud had apparently shucked as much as he could, including his heavy weapons, his armor and armlet, and his boots.
Still, though, they had no evidence of a body. On one hand, then lack of a body was encouraging, but as the days went by Sephiroth became more and more convinced they would never see Cloud alive again. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to write as much in the mission report — he’d emphazised the likelihood that Hojo had either somehow managed to access company intelligence or had been forewarned by a spy, both of which were grim prospects for ShinRa, but when it came down to describing the battle he always found himself hesitating. Hope, it seemed, flowered in even the most dire of situations.
Sephiroth started in surprise when his PHS rang. They’d had no contact with anyone in the company since arriving in Gongaga nearly a week ago; for someone to be calling now…
Quickly pulling the device from his pocket, he took the call. “Sephiroth.”
“This is Turk Reno, calling from Costa del Sol—”
The General frowned at that. The words “how did you get this number?” were on the tip of his tongue, but the man sounded too serious for this to be a social call — and the screen had indicated contact through official channels, though admittedly that didn’t mean much for one trained in hacking. “And?” he interrupted sharply, suddenly tense.
“I was wondering if… things are going all right down there.”
“Passably,” was his cautious answer, “though we lost one of our group several days ago and have been unable to recover him thus far.” He already didn’t like where this was going. Reno was not one of those who’d been informed of their mission…
The Turk sighed heavily. “Shit. I was afraid of that,” Sephiroth heard him mutter, muffled as if he’d stopped speaking into his end of the line for a moment, and then more clearly, “You’d better get up here, then. SOLDIER washed up on the beach a couple hours ago—”
His blood ran cold. “Is it—?”
“The company’s sending a forensics team to run tests to confirm it, but…” A pause, then, “The dogtags say Strife.”
There was a very long silence, until Reno ventured, “I’m sorry, man—”
Sephiroth hung up on him, the hand holding his PHS falling to his side as he stared unseeing out to sea. Losing a subordinate was always hard for an officer, but never before had he felt this… this hollowness after being informed of it. It reminded him dimly of those half-remembered dreams that drove him to wander late at night through the halls to Zack’s quarters, where even simply watching him sleep reassured him that nothing was amiss.
Except this was no dream.
“Bad news.” It was a statement, not a question, and Sephiroth turned to see Vincent’s remarkably steady gaze.
Sephiroth nodded, approaching Zack at the cliff’s edge. When the other SOLDIER turned to him, he said somberly, “We’re going to Costa del Sol.”
“What?” came the other’s reply, clearly perplexed. He and Zack had been most ardent in the need to stay here until the recovery teams discovered the fate of their missing friend. “Why?”
“They’ve found Cloud.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“That went rather well, I believe.”
Tseng looked over at Rufus. The president certainly did seem pleased with himself, perhaps not unnecessarily. He had, after all, managed to acquire some rather good contracts with one of their major suppliers without having to marry the man’s daughter, which had clearly been the other president’s intention. “You will have to marry sometime, sir,” he pointed out, perhaps unnecessarily, but…
Rufus waved his hand dismissively. “I am well aware of that. However, the girl was completely unsuitable. My wife must not only offer a profitable partnership, but should also be at least somewhat presentable in public.” Ms. Rosen, the young woman in question, did have strong connections to one of ShinRa’s largest ore suppliers, but she was lacking in the latter department. A childhood fever had resulted in some facial scarring, which was largely why Rufus had sent Reno out of town. The Turk was professional enough not to say anything, but he’d have to have worked to keep his mocking tendencies in full check, and given how incredibly perceptive the young woman was reported to be… Better safe than sorry. “Right now there are several people with prospective spouses for me vying for my attention,” he continued, “and I intend to keep it that way as long as I can.”
Tseng nodded in understanding. Playing the various factions against each other was a viable strategy. It did not, however, provide for the all-important successor that Rufus would have to begin preparing sometime in the next decade or so.
A knock on the door forestalled any reply Tseng might have given, however. The pair looked up to see an unusually grim Matheson at their door. “I have some bad news.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Reno started in surprise as the door to the clinic’s waiting room slammed open, Zack bursting in. “Where is he?” the SOLDIER demanded.
“They’re prepping the body for cremation,” the Turk said soberly, and then added, “How in Hades’ name’d you manage to get here so fast? We weren’t expecting you till tomorrow, at the earliest.”
“The situation seemed urgent,” Sephiroth said, in a tone that would’ve brooked no further inquiry even if Zack hadn’t interrupted. “Where? I want to see him first.”
Reno shook his head. “You really don’t. He looks like shit—”
“I need to see him,” the other man insisted. “I have to make sure—”
“Dude, they ran the DNA tests three times to be—” Zack wasn’t listening, though, already racing downstairs to the morgue, Valentine — Reno hadn’t even noticed him, he’d been so silent — on his heels. “Damn,” he said with feeling, turning to Sephiroth. “We better go after them before they cause a scene.”
Reno was more familiar with the place, so they caught up to the other two quickly, reaching the preparation room even as Zack threw the door open. The head of the forensics team frowned. “Sir, you shouldn’t be in here—”
“Oh Gaea…” was all the dark-haired SOLDIER said, looking horrified (and a little green about the gills, too, to be honest) at the sight of the body on the table, taking a few faltering steps backwards. Beside him Valentine was deathly still, even more unreadable than usual, though his eyes burned strangely… Even Sephiroth stiffened, holding himself with that same rigid posture he had when they paraded him out in front of the masses.
Reno felt an uncharacteristic twinge of sympathy for all of them. “…Come on, guys,” he ventured, when it became clear the team was waiting for him to take care of his errant fellow employees. “Let’s go back to wait upstairs.”
Zack nodded numbly, wrenching his eyes away from the body. Sephiroth followed him silently, his hand twitching momentarily from his side in what Reno might’ve taken as a comforting touch cut short, had it been anybody else.
“Valentine?”
The older Turk didn’t even acknowledge him, and for a moment there Reno was afraid… well, he wasn’t even sure what the feeling was exactly, but it was definitely apprehensive — but then he swept past Reno and out the door, following the others.
It was a painfully awkward few hours. The three of them sat there and brooded while Reno tried, and failed, to think of some conversational topic to lighten the mood — obviously none of them were interested. So he tried not to fidget too much, and bit back a relieved sigh when his PHS went off, stepping outside to take the call.
“…We have to call his mom, still,” Zack said suddenly, his voice resigned.
Sephiroth nodded slowly. “After this.”
The other SOLDIER raised his head. “But I want to be the one to do it. I mean,” he added when Sephiroth frowned, “I know you’re supposed to, since you were his commanding officer, but it’s my fa—”
“Don’t,” Vincent interrupted curtly, and that was the end of that conversation.
The forensics team came upstairs maybe twenty minutes later, their leader presenting Sephiroth with the remains and Cloud’s dog tags. The General simply looked at it for a moment, the little metal box emblazoned with the SOLDIER crest all that was left of their friend… and held it out to Vincent.
Something flickered in the other man’s eyes — surprise? Gratitude? It was gone too quickly to tell — but he accepted it, his hands curling tightly around the box’s edges.
Sephiroth rose to his feet. “Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s bring him home.”
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Genre: General/Drama
Pairings: ZackxSeph, Assorted Past
Rating (Overall): PG-13
Warnings: Violence, gore, death.
Summary: "This is not going to be fun."
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all associated characters and symbols are the exclusive property of Square Enix and its associates. We’re just borrowing them for a while.
Chapter 38
“Somebody has definitely been here,” Cloud said quietly to Vincent as he took another step into the darkness of the cave. “Recently, too.” He placed his hand on an empty tank. “Still warm — can’t’ve been emptied earlier than sometime in the last three days. The Mako residue is still active.”
“I can’t think of another scientist with this level of experience still living,” Vincent commented, carefully studying the lab’s contents. “It must be Hojo.” He turned his attention to a nearby computer terminal, and within a few seconds had cracked the system’s protections and pulled up the security system. “Full video of the area, though no audio.” He skimmed through the images quickly. “We appear to be the only…”
“Human?” Cloud supplied.
Vincent made a face at that. He wasn’t sure he would use that term. “In any case, we are the only ones not within cages or tanks.” He clicked a few more keys. “I see no evidence of the Jenova host.”
“Guess we should get back and get Sephiroth and Zack, then.” Cloud turned and Vincent followed, superior senses watching behind them. “I wonder when he left, what tipped him off. I mean, Zack said he didn’t get that close—”
“Perhaps he was monitoring communications on local ShinRa networks.”
Cloud looked skeptical. “Didn’t they just change the encryption passcodes after he left, though? Hojo may be a lot of things, but hacker’s not one of them.”
“It’s still entirely possible that he could have captured a company employee and gotten the information from them after the change,” the older man pointed out.
“It’s possible, but they’re paranoid enough that they probably would’ve gone and changed the codes again if something like that had happened,” Cloud noted. “They’ve been especially sensitive about disappearing employees ever since Hojo’s… unauthorized experiments came to light.”
Vincent hid a tiny smile. He’d missed these back-and-forth sessions. “It’s entirely possible a supervisor somewhere along the line chose to cover up such a disappearance,” he countered. “Hojo’s activities may have been distasteful, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have support within the company, outside his department as well as within it. Remember, we never did figure out who tipped him off before his escape.” They’d never found any evidence one way or another, but he still had his suspicions. It had been too much of a clean getaway.
Cloud pursed his lips. “Hadn’t thought about that,” he admitted. “Kind of a grim outlook there, but…”
“But we must always consider all possibilities, even the most dire.”
“Yeah…” As they stepped out of the cave, Cloud raised his voice a little to catch the others’ attention. “Someone’s definitely been here. Looks like three recently emptied Mako tanks, and there’s a whole bunch of other critters in there.”
Vincent tuned out Zack and Cloud’s banter. They hadn’t found much here, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something—
::Be wary:: came Chaos’ voice suddenly, like the crack of a whip, and his hand moved instantly to his gun as he turned with the others to see—
“It’s been a while, My Son.”
“Shit,” muttered Cloud, biting off the word almost savagely, and though Vincent did not echo his student’s exclamation, he could certainly understand the sentiment, his eyes narrowing.
Internally, he seethed at Hojo’s words. He and Sephiroth both had wondered about the man’s parentage. Supposedly the child had been of Lucrecia and Hojo’s making, but Vincent had found a few things that had seemed too similar between himself and the white-haired General. Perhaps it was all because of shared experiences; the one time he had been with Lucrecia had been nearly a year before Sephiroth’s birth, so the odds of Sephiroth being his natural child were nil. On the other hand, Vincent knew Hojo had had cell samples from every individual even peripherally associated with the project, and that included the Turks assigned to guard it. The theory had been more genetic donors would provide for more possibilities that might have just the right combination to ensure the success of the project. So Vincent could be Sephiroth’s father, and not know it…
One thing was for sure: Hojo had done nothing to earn the title.
“So how much of that is him and how much of that is her?” Cloud asked with some resignation, pulling the largest blades of Shiranui free from their places on his back.
“Much of the words are Hers, but She is not in the immediate area,” Vincent commented, startled at the uninstructed movements of his mouth. “Close, but not close enough that it should cause problems like last time.”
A bit of warning would be nice, if you’re going to pull something like that, he thought at Chaos with some resignation.
::This is too important to waste time on such trivial things,:: the spirit responded dismissively, its attention focused largely on their foe.
“Good,” said Cloud, of course unaware of their unspoken conversation. “I really don’t want to have to fight Sephiroth again.”
“Still,” Sinclair put in, always trying to be optimistic, “it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, four on one.” He frowned. “…what’s he holding?”
“It appears to be a detonator of some sort,” Vincent said tersely, “which would of course be why we haven’t attacked him yet.”
“Not fond of standoffs, Valentine?” Hojo inquired, a humorless smirk on his face. He looked rather worse for the wear since he’d left ShinRa; he was almost emaciated, shifting oddly under his labcoat, and his sallow complexion seemed to have gained an unhealthy ashy hue to it. “Perhaps We can relieve you of the pressure.” He pushed a button on the controller he was holding.
“Look out!” Vincent and Cloud shouted at the same time, hearing up on the sound of glass and metal breaking behind them. Surging out of the cave came the horde of monsters they had seen within, creatures that in the wild ranged from Mideel to Icicle Inn. At the same time Hojo turned and took off into the forest, moving with alarming speed away from his former lab towards the coast.
“Cloud, Valentine, take care of this. We’ll go after him!” Zack yelled as he sprinted after the scientist, Sephiroth hot on his heels and fast overtaking him.
“Got it!” Cloud called back as he beheaded a Jumping, rolling out of the way of an Edgehead’s electric burst while Vincent calmly took out a pair of desert sahagin with his gun, seeking higher ground to get a better view of the battlefield. Still, there are an awful lot of— uh oh. Cloud dropped to the ground again as he found himself face to face with a griffin, a harpy, and a hippogriff. This is not going to be fun.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Much to Zack’s irritation, the headache he’d been sporting for the last half an hour only increased as he ran after Hojo. He had a pretty good idea why, too. It didn’t take a genius to guess that Hojo had injected himself with Jenova cells, from the way he’d spoken and the way he was moving — there was no way he could’ve been this fast without some sort of enhancements — and he hadn’t exactly the best record of dealing with the creature. Then again, neither did Seph, and there was no way he was going to leave his friend alone to go after him. Unfortunately, though, this was going to distract both of them and hamper their fighting ability. They knew how to ignore pain, and to a lesser extent drugs — all SOLDIERs did — but this handicap came from another realm of attack, one on their minds.
Only a fool fights on two fronts. Of course, they also say life makes fools of us all, Zack thought as he continued to run, barely conscious of the weight of the Buster Sword on his back. Even so, he couldn’t help being excited despite the risks. This is what he’d been missing since he’d gone on leave. The time had left him rested and more than ready for a fight.
Hojo finally stumbled to a stop and turned to face them a short distance from the edge of some cliffs. Zack was vaguely familiar with the area, he realized as he slowed, hand moving to his sword. Everyone in town was told to stay away from it because of the swift currents at the bottom, not to mention the drop, though most of the kids (Zack included) had gone through the obligatory dare-to-walk-to-the-edge stage. The view was sure worth it, especially at sunrise—
Sephiroth was a blur, the Masamune already in hand, not even bothering to change his momentum as he charged—
—and was thrown back as Hojo exploded, cloth ripping and tearing as he twisted and shifted into some hideous purplish red thing that glistened wetly in the sun, twitching and shivering and brandishing a wickedly sharp claw on one arm.
He’s been experimenting on himself, Zack realized, utterly horrified as he stared at that mass of pulsating flesh and wrongness.
The monster laughed, and it sounded enough like Hojo’s that he growled as he readied his sword to charge into the fray to join Seph— only to feel the hilt slip from his fingers as he was overcome with an immense drowsiness. Damn, he thought, struggling to fight off the Sleep spell, but he hadn’t expected this—
The SOLDIER bit back a sound of relief as the tingle of an Esuna’s power swept through him, beating back the drowsiness. Seph didn’t even spare him a second glance, immediately returning his focus to their foe, but Zack flashed him a grateful smile anyway, picking up the Buster Sword and diving right into the thick of things. After all, if Seph was gonna watch his back, it was only polite to return the favor.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cloud dodged again, bringing the griffin’s magic-draining attack to bear on the harpy. Previous acrobatics on his part had managed to get a good portion of the other smaller creatures into range of its watery blast. Thank Leviathan there aren’t many monsters resistant to that. Vincent was busily sniping off the rest, while Cloud played ‘catch-me-if-you-can’ with the three avians. The harpy, no longer having the power to attack with its water-wave, lunged forward, only to find itself hamstrung as Cloud sliced upward, cutting across its legs. The scream it uttered gave credence to old legends; the SOLDIER didn’t have time to admire it as he ducked another attack, this from the hippogriff, and sliced the left wing from the creature’s body before lunging into the space left behind (not quite fast enough to escape a swipe from those claws, unfortunately) to hack at its back, severing the beast’s spinal cord.
A gunshot distracted him for a second. Vincent had apparently decided to join the party, shooting the harpy in the eye, ending the thing’s misery as his bullet blew through its brain. Which just left the griffin…
The blond dropped to the ground, leaving his blade pinning the carcass for a moment. The griffin approached, clearly furious its prey had evaded it for so long. Cloud moved backward, keeping the amount of distance between them just enough so that when the creature reared— his hand flickered to the side and snapped forward, releasing one of the throwing knives he had received as a birthday present years ago. His aim was dead-on, the metal sinking deep into the feathered breast and finding its heart.
“Good use of the enemy attacks,” Vincent observed. Cloud nodded, acknowledging the praise while gulping down a potion to ease the sting of the few minor wounds he’d sustained. Retrieving his weapons, he took a moment to clean the worst of the gore from them, then turned to his mentor. “Let’s go.”
It didn’t take long to find Zack and Sephiroth, considering the amount of noise the battle was making. Cloud muttered to himself as he ran, one hand hovering over the glowing green sphere in his armlet. He had worked with his Ice materia enough that it was almost mastered, and of all the elemental spells it was the most localized, making it the safest to cast in the midst of melee combat like this. He coaxed power through and out of the little stone, calling forth the most powerful magic it held — and grinned triumphantly as the massive crystals of a Blizzaga spell coalesced around their foe, startling it, causing it to shriek and level a baleful glare at him as the ice shattered.
The Second skidded to a stop near the edge of the cliff, preparing to cast again; with Zack and Sephiroth already fighting in close quarters like that, never giving an inch, there really wasn’t room for another sword. He and Vincent would have to do distance offense and healing, not that Cloud minded. From what he knew of the situation, Sephiroth more than deserved this kill—
The world tilted dangerously as the thing that had been Hojo lashed out, not at Sephiroth or Zack, but at him, its long arm slamming into his side with enough force to send him flying. Fighting down panic, Cloud made a desperate twisting lunge in midair, fingers stretching urgently towards the cliff edge—
—dammit, he wasn’t even close—
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was, a distant, impersonal part of part of Vincent’s mind noted, a great deal like one of those movies he had seen late at night when he couldn’t sleep and Sephiroth had been visiting Sinclair’s quarters. Cloud’s brilliant grin at successfully casting the highest level ice spell, the sudden attack by Hojo — who’d know, looking at that thing, that its arms could reach that far? — and his student’s wide-eyed face as he fell towards the rough waves crashing against the rocks far below. The rest of him was in shock that bleeding into the anguish of loss, quickly being overwhelmed by a rising tide of rage. How dare Hojo do this to his apprentice, his comrade, the man who was like a son to him—
Always before the transformations had seemed unnatural. Something else had taken his place, only to leave him disoriented when he returned, unsure of how he had gotten there with only a vague idea of had happened. This time Vincent embraced the change, pulling the demon’s anger close for the first time as wings ripped from his back and muscles shifted, calling the Lord of Mayhem into physical form once more. ::The earth will run with his blood!::
Sinclair had headed for the cliffs already, scrambling down them as fast as he safely could, a good thing considering he would have likely been trampled otherwise. Despite Chaos’ agility, though, he wasn’t faster than Sephiroth. The Masamune swept out, the General ignoring their foe’s attack and focusing entirely on the wounding, cleaving him in two — Chaos bit back a snarl at having this kill stolen but let it slide, though that didn’t stop him from savagely mauling the thing that had been Hojo through its death throes to make sure.
“I can’t find any sign of him!” Zack yelled, a note of desperation in his voice as his head popped back over the cliff, the rest of him hanging onto the weather-worn face. Sephiroth looked over at Chaos, still itching for something to destroy, and he— Vincent— they knew what the General was thinking. That fall, even for one enhanced, would not be an easy one, and Cloud was weighed down with his weapons… Had he even known how to swim?
“We’re coming, Zack,” the pale-haired man replied, walking briskly to the edge, but one look at his face and Vincent realized with a sinking heart that he too already knew what they would find.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It wasn’t unusual for Turks to be sent out of Midgar. While they often functioned as bodyguards, they also did a host of other jobs that took them all over the world.
Being a delivery boy wasn’t often one of them.
Frankly, Reno had suspected something was up the minute the President had ordered him to hand-deliver an envelope to that Bugenhagen guy. The Prez had claimed it had contained important material he didn’t want to risk on fax lines — they didn’t have a fax machine in Cosmo Canyon anyway — or in the hands of a regular courier. Reno had protested mightily to Tseng that message delivery was a trainee job, but to no avail. He had found his bags packed and a car waiting to take him to Junon in under an hour. And when he finally arrived at his ultimate destination, he knew he’d been right when the crazy floating-on-a-ball-man had opened the message to reveal the plans for the new air turbine that had been delivered to the canyon… a month ago. Yeah, the plans were good in case they needed to make repairs, but they were hardly urgent. Or that secretive. Geez.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, to top it all off, when he got back to Costa de Sol he found a note with a substantial amount of cash, basically issuing orders to take a short leave in the Sun City on company money until they sent for him.
Clearly, they wanted him out of the city for some reason. Reno was a bit peeved about that, but let it slide. After all, Turks weren’t supposed to question orders; besides, how often did you get to spend the company’s money on a bit of fun and not get in trouble for it?
So Reno had made a good show of it, hitting the beach by day and the bars by night, enjoying all sorts of company. Good times were had by all — well, mostly. The local authorities were less than pleased with him, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. One of the upsides of being a Turk. It was pretty damn fun to intimidate the hell out of people, and the company had enough clout that law enforcement was usually unwilling to detain him for long. Yeah, some of the assignments sucked, but you really couldn’t expect a job like this to be all fluff and rainbows, after all.
Still, his favorite thing about the job — well, besides having free access to all of Midgar and practically anywhere else. And the no-questions-asked thing. And borderline insubordination. And, well, a lot of things — was the impunity it offered. Peacekeepers the world over knew that when they heard the word “Turk” the best thing to do was stay out of the way. The only higher authorities they answered to were their leader and the President; if you were any other ShinRa employee, you just kept your head low and tried to avoid ‘em.
Reno had to admit he still got quite a kick out of toeing the line and even sometimes crossing it outright — though he’d been far worse about it when underage — and not getting caught, watching the local authorities grit their teeth in frustration at the immunity his job gave him. He had probably committed a few minor infractions last night on his rounds, nothing too serious, but really, he was stuck in Costa de Sol until Tseng decided to provide transport for him to get back to Midgar or give him a new assignment, and as nice as this place was it was still easy to get bored with the same crap after a while. So, being as he might have taken part in the graffiti contest on the beach wall last night, the knock on his door at five in the morning didn’t come at much of a surprise. The redhead pondered just staying in bed and making them wait, but last night’s companions were still asleep, and he’d have liked another round with the twins before he had to leave, so he decided it was best to get the door and let them rest.
The Turk answered the door without bothering to put anything on other than his boxers. He got an extra glare for his state of undress from the officer in charge, much to his amusement. Another just rolled his eyes, while the third averted his gaze. “Get dressed and come with us, Turk,” the leader said brusquely. “We need you to identify a body.”
“Me?” Reno tried to play innocent, but that smirk was fighting it every step of the way. “But I haven’t killed anyone. Not recently, anyway.” The youngster behind the leader paled a bit. Newbie, by the look of him. Reno was probably his first encounter with a Turk. He couldn’t help a bit of amused pride at that, though part of his mind provided Tseng’s lecture about professionalism quite vividly. Then again, he had heard it often enough.
“One of yours washed up on the beach last night.”
The amusement vanished to be replaced with a serious level of concern. The department wasn’t that big, usually less than twenty active Turks at a time, all told. He hadn’t heard of anyone even in this area. “Turk?”
“ShinRa, anyway,” the senior officer replied, shrugging as he affected disinterest. “SOLDIER, by the look of it.”
Now, Reno didn’t know every SOLDIER in existence, but he had met a good number of them. If nothing else, he should’ve been able to tell if it was the genuine article or not. “Give me two minutes.” He dressed quickly in the trademark suit, making sure electro-rod, gun, and PHS were at the ready, slipping a bracer on his arm more out of habit than genuine need. He briefly considered leaving a note for his sleeping companions, but discarded the thought almost immediately. Tender notes — heck, notes in general — just weren’t his style.
The beach had been partitioned off with that yellow tape one found the world over at scenes like this. Reno ducked under it automatically and headed towards the ocean, pace increasing as he caught sight of a familiar shade of red, gut twisting with foreboding. Ignoring the forensics people and the police behind him, he dropped to one knee. “Somebody get me a pair of gloves.” They were handed to him promptly, and he pulled them on quickly, rolling the body over.
It was a gruesome sight. Waterlogged and badly battered by the ocean currents, skin discolored by death, it wasn’t exactly something anyone’d want to look at. And yet, the face was familiar enough… Reno had a bad, bad feeling about this. He yanked a pale hair from the head, pulling out his PHS with his other hand.
“ShinRa Telecommunications Mainframe, Internal Communications, Western Continent Office. How may I direct your call?”
“Connect me to Matheson, Science Department Head. And tell him it’s urgent.”
“One moment, please.”
Reno refused to fidget as the call went to hold music before he heard the click of the connection being reestablished.
“Matheson.”
“This is Reno, of the Turks. I need a forensics unit sent to Costa de Sol ASAP for body ID.”
“Do we have a suspected identity?” Matheson asked over the click of his keyboard.
“It’s difficult to tell just from looking, but…” He sighed heavily. “Strife, SOLDIER Second Class.”
“Cloud?” The shock in the man’s voice took Reno by surprise until he remembered that the man’s daughter knew the SOLDIER. “What happened?”
“Dunno, but I intend to find out. In any case, we need the body properly contained — it’s definitely a SOLDIER.” ShinRa was understandably touchy about leaving their elite dead in others’ hands — there was always a possibility that an outsider might learn too much from an autopsy.
“All right.” A few more clicks. “The team is already en route, and I’m transmitting Strife’s DNA record as we speak. ETA is 0930 tomorrow.”
“One more thing. You’re in the main network, right? Can you pull up where Strife was supposed to be?”
“One second.” More clicking as Matheson called up the files he could access as a board member. “The vicinity of Cosmo Canyon, on a mission with Sephiroth.”
Hojo, in other words. “Right. I’ll contact him, then.” He disconnected the call, then turned to the police. “ShinRa is sending a team to take care of the body. We’ll require facilities to store it until they arrive, along with any equipment they request.”
“The morgue should have what you need,” one of the of officers suggested. “We’ll move it immediately.”
“Keep it contained. You never know what sort of toxins it could release.” It would do no such thing, of course. The only thing Mako could do in a corpse was poison something stupid enough to eat it, but it would keep these folks from messing with it until they had the proper facilities set up to do so, and with any luck the company’s forensics unit would have arrived by then. Even so, he’d stay with the body himself as much as he could. He owed Sinclair a few, and the department owed Valentine.
Only one last thing to do, then…
“ShinRa Telecommunications Mainframe, Internal Communications, Western Continent Office. How may I direct your call?”
“Connect me to General Sephiroth.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sephiroth watched as Zack hovered at the edge of the cliffs, the other SOLDIER clearly itching to jump in with the rescue and recovery crew they had called in from Costa del Sol. He had done some investigation of his own for a few hours, only to be pushed aside by the ‘professionals’ when they’d arrived. They had found signs of Cloud… but not much else. Most of his weapons, which had sunk to the bottom, had been recovered — the coastal waters were reasonably shallow here, under two hundred feet deep. All three had approved when they’d seen Cloud had apparently shucked as much as he could, including his heavy weapons, his armor and armlet, and his boots.
Still, though, they had no evidence of a body. On one hand, then lack of a body was encouraging, but as the days went by Sephiroth became more and more convinced they would never see Cloud alive again. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to write as much in the mission report — he’d emphazised the likelihood that Hojo had either somehow managed to access company intelligence or had been forewarned by a spy, both of which were grim prospects for ShinRa, but when it came down to describing the battle he always found himself hesitating. Hope, it seemed, flowered in even the most dire of situations.
Sephiroth started in surprise when his PHS rang. They’d had no contact with anyone in the company since arriving in Gongaga nearly a week ago; for someone to be calling now…
Quickly pulling the device from his pocket, he took the call. “Sephiroth.”
“This is Turk Reno, calling from Costa del Sol—”
The General frowned at that. The words “how did you get this number?” were on the tip of his tongue, but the man sounded too serious for this to be a social call — and the screen had indicated contact through official channels, though admittedly that didn’t mean much for one trained in hacking. “And?” he interrupted sharply, suddenly tense.
“I was wondering if… things are going all right down there.”
“Passably,” was his cautious answer, “though we lost one of our group several days ago and have been unable to recover him thus far.” He already didn’t like where this was going. Reno was not one of those who’d been informed of their mission…
The Turk sighed heavily. “Shit. I was afraid of that,” Sephiroth heard him mutter, muffled as if he’d stopped speaking into his end of the line for a moment, and then more clearly, “You’d better get up here, then. SOLDIER washed up on the beach a couple hours ago—”
His blood ran cold. “Is it—?”
“The company’s sending a forensics team to run tests to confirm it, but…” A pause, then, “The dogtags say Strife.”
There was a very long silence, until Reno ventured, “I’m sorry, man—”
Sephiroth hung up on him, the hand holding his PHS falling to his side as he stared unseeing out to sea. Losing a subordinate was always hard for an officer, but never before had he felt this… this hollowness after being informed of it. It reminded him dimly of those half-remembered dreams that drove him to wander late at night through the halls to Zack’s quarters, where even simply watching him sleep reassured him that nothing was amiss.
Except this was no dream.
“Bad news.” It was a statement, not a question, and Sephiroth turned to see Vincent’s remarkably steady gaze.
Sephiroth nodded, approaching Zack at the cliff’s edge. When the other SOLDIER turned to him, he said somberly, “We’re going to Costa del Sol.”
“What?” came the other’s reply, clearly perplexed. He and Zack had been most ardent in the need to stay here until the recovery teams discovered the fate of their missing friend. “Why?”
“They’ve found Cloud.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“That went rather well, I believe.”
Tseng looked over at Rufus. The president certainly did seem pleased with himself, perhaps not unnecessarily. He had, after all, managed to acquire some rather good contracts with one of their major suppliers without having to marry the man’s daughter, which had clearly been the other president’s intention. “You will have to marry sometime, sir,” he pointed out, perhaps unnecessarily, but…
Rufus waved his hand dismissively. “I am well aware of that. However, the girl was completely unsuitable. My wife must not only offer a profitable partnership, but should also be at least somewhat presentable in public.” Ms. Rosen, the young woman in question, did have strong connections to one of ShinRa’s largest ore suppliers, but she was lacking in the latter department. A childhood fever had resulted in some facial scarring, which was largely why Rufus had sent Reno out of town. The Turk was professional enough not to say anything, but he’d have to have worked to keep his mocking tendencies in full check, and given how incredibly perceptive the young woman was reported to be… Better safe than sorry. “Right now there are several people with prospective spouses for me vying for my attention,” he continued, “and I intend to keep it that way as long as I can.”
Tseng nodded in understanding. Playing the various factions against each other was a viable strategy. It did not, however, provide for the all-important successor that Rufus would have to begin preparing sometime in the next decade or so.
A knock on the door forestalled any reply Tseng might have given, however. The pair looked up to see an unusually grim Matheson at their door. “I have some bad news.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Reno started in surprise as the door to the clinic’s waiting room slammed open, Zack bursting in. “Where is he?” the SOLDIER demanded.
“They’re prepping the body for cremation,” the Turk said soberly, and then added, “How in Hades’ name’d you manage to get here so fast? We weren’t expecting you till tomorrow, at the earliest.”
“The situation seemed urgent,” Sephiroth said, in a tone that would’ve brooked no further inquiry even if Zack hadn’t interrupted. “Where? I want to see him first.”
Reno shook his head. “You really don’t. He looks like shit—”
“I need to see him,” the other man insisted. “I have to make sure—”
“Dude, they ran the DNA tests three times to be—” Zack wasn’t listening, though, already racing downstairs to the morgue, Valentine — Reno hadn’t even noticed him, he’d been so silent — on his heels. “Damn,” he said with feeling, turning to Sephiroth. “We better go after them before they cause a scene.”
Reno was more familiar with the place, so they caught up to the other two quickly, reaching the preparation room even as Zack threw the door open. The head of the forensics team frowned. “Sir, you shouldn’t be in here—”
“Oh Gaea…” was all the dark-haired SOLDIER said, looking horrified (and a little green about the gills, too, to be honest) at the sight of the body on the table, taking a few faltering steps backwards. Beside him Valentine was deathly still, even more unreadable than usual, though his eyes burned strangely… Even Sephiroth stiffened, holding himself with that same rigid posture he had when they paraded him out in front of the masses.
Reno felt an uncharacteristic twinge of sympathy for all of them. “…Come on, guys,” he ventured, when it became clear the team was waiting for him to take care of his errant fellow employees. “Let’s go back to wait upstairs.”
Zack nodded numbly, wrenching his eyes away from the body. Sephiroth followed him silently, his hand twitching momentarily from his side in what Reno might’ve taken as a comforting touch cut short, had it been anybody else.
“Valentine?”
The older Turk didn’t even acknowledge him, and for a moment there Reno was afraid… well, he wasn’t even sure what the feeling was exactly, but it was definitely apprehensive — but then he swept past Reno and out the door, following the others.
It was a painfully awkward few hours. The three of them sat there and brooded while Reno tried, and failed, to think of some conversational topic to lighten the mood — obviously none of them were interested. So he tried not to fidget too much, and bit back a relieved sigh when his PHS went off, stepping outside to take the call.
“…We have to call his mom, still,” Zack said suddenly, his voice resigned.
Sephiroth nodded slowly. “After this.”
The other SOLDIER raised his head. “But I want to be the one to do it. I mean,” he added when Sephiroth frowned, “I know you’re supposed to, since you were his commanding officer, but it’s my fa—”
“Don’t,” Vincent interrupted curtly, and that was the end of that conversation.
The forensics team came upstairs maybe twenty minutes later, their leader presenting Sephiroth with the remains and Cloud’s dog tags. The General simply looked at it for a moment, the little metal box emblazoned with the SOLDIER crest all that was left of their friend… and held it out to Vincent.
Something flickered in the other man’s eyes — surprise? Gratitude? It was gone too quickly to tell — but he accepted it, his hands curling tightly around the box’s edges.
Sephiroth rose to his feet. “Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s bring him home.”
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