|
The elusive Cloud Strife. Find him and bring him home. And how would the notorious Vincent Valentine do this most impracticable deed? The only way he knew how. He'd find a way into the impenetrable fortress that was the ShinRa building, somehow make it passed thousands of guards, perhaps even more, with a group of impossibly impossible people and demand back one Mr. Strife, all the while smiling his slight smile and waving his big guns around. Just like that.
Or maybe he'd just borrow some of Barret's explosives and blow Cloud Strife from out the building. Of course then he might die in the process and Tifa probably didn't want him dead. Vincent forced his twitching lips not to smile at the foolish idea. Instead, he settled for a sigh in frustration. Either way seemed just as hopelessly stupid. Although, with all the trouble he had gotten himself into because of Strife, the last idea was much more appealing... For him anyway. Of course, Cid might not mind blowing Cloud up either, just as long as he got his money - just as long as they got their money.
Money... And just what did Vincent want with money? Not a thing. What he wanted he couldn't possibly buy with money. So gil was as useless as his ideas to get Cloud Strife back. Money did nothing for him. So why was he doing this? Vincent had thought out many well-planned excuses in case some poor fool should trouble him with such a question. Why are you doing this, Valentine? "Not money, of course." And that was as far as his well-planned excuse went. But he knew why, didn't he? At least, he thought he did. He wanted to find Hojo. A part of Vincent wanted to do unspeakable things to him, things that somehow justified the professor's cruelty to his body, the psychological rape of his mind and whatever was left of his soul. But what did the other part of Vincent want? Peace, perhaps? Vincent would find Hojo and Vincent would get his little shred of justice. That was why he went on, wasn't it?
Then she popped into his head again. He had been trying to avoid thinking about her, because then he'd be forced to see her beautiful face, smiling at him, pretending she didn't feel the pain she did. Funny, that Tifa Lockheart. She was such a terrible liar. Foolish girl, going and loving men she could never possibly have. Well, not so much love as just pretending to love. She thought she loved Cloud and she thought he loved her and what she thought made her terribly confused. And, somehow, that confusion had made her believe she felt something for her apathetic bounty hunter. Which, in turn, had forced that said apathetic bounty hunter to think he cared about her. It was so simple that it had Vincent wondering why he hadn't seen it before. They were all just confused.
Vincent's fingers twitched as if to tell him what a terrible liar he was. He curled his fingers into a fist to silence them. He was lying so badly that if he had spoken his thoughts aloud, no able person would actually have believed him. Vincent slammed that fist into the wall of the small room he was in, probably making everyone on the opposite side think he had turned into Chaos once more. He was where Jessie had been earlier while she was sewing his shirt, the small room to the right of the bar. He had went in to retrieve his weapons before they all left and somehow managed to lose track of time, disappearing into his own little dark abyss. He was delaying and he was doing so purposely. Perhaps if he could delay things then maybe he could hold onto that beautiful, smiling girl for a moment more, before he had to hand her back again to someone who he was certain didn't deserve her...
And who the hell are you to deem someone unworthy? Have you forgotten so quickly?
Vincent's jaw set tightly. "No, I haven't forgotten," he whispered to his mind. That scornful, guilt-ridden mind of his...
Besides... she was never yours.
There was a touch of remorse there in his mind's words, a bit of long-forgotten bitterness. But it was much too late to not think of her. He could see her face as plain as the light that always radiated from it, those thick eyelashes that framed large, brown eyes, and her soft pink lips, upwards in a playful smile. How could he forget Tifa? He had already touched her, felt those warm lips against his own, had saw in her eyes this strange sort of affection for him, this... What was it? Love? A small, bitter laugh came from Vincent around the same time someone knocked on the room's door.
Damn love. It doesn't exist.
"Vincent?" Tifa's voice on the other side sounded rejuvenated, stronger than it was those few hours before. Maybe she was a better liar than he first thought.
Go away, Tifa. Stop making me think about you.
Vincent felt his fingers twitch again as they swept over the cold metal of his guns. He holstered them simultaneously, taking the time to make sure that his cloak fell over his shoulders in the proper way, to delay the inevitable, just a little more. He lowered his head and felt his cool, inky hair brush against his cheeks as he turned around towards the door.
"I'm coming, Tifa." The voice that answered was as cool as ever. She would never suspect a thing.
*
The air was that sickening combination of sticky humidity with a cool, almost chilling wind. Tifa wondered how the outside world could possibly be hot and cold at the same time, but when that strange combination hit her full in the face, she found her answer with a small shiver. The world could very well be hot and cold at the same time. Strange, just like human emotions... Tifa brushed her bangs away from her face and placed her gloved hands on her hips. She and Cid had been waiting outside of some sleazy looking gun shop for nearly thirty minutes now. Apparently Vincent and Barret had unanimously agreed to buy more guns without bothering to tell anyone else. Never mind that it didn't matter how many guns they had. The ShinRa soldiers would still outnumber them.
That fact didn't seem to trouble Vincent or Barret, however. Tifa smiled. Typical men. She tapped her boot against the cracked pavement outside of the store, leaning to the right slightly and trying to see passed the flyer covered window for a peek inside. All she could see, however, was a number of people peering lifelessly back at her from the leaflets on the glass. "Have you seen me?" Tifa quickly looked away. She hated those damned posters.
"Ah, nothin' like the voice of the dead, eh?" Cid happily pulled a cigarette out from the packet behind his ears. As he lighted it, one hand cupped around the end, the other trying to light, Tifa noticed for the first time that Cid's cigarettes were not just perched behind his ear, but secured there beneath the strap of his goggles.
Tifa flexed her fingers and looked around. "What do you mean?"
Cid shrugged, pocketed the lighter and took a puff on the slender stick. "Them." He nodded over towards the posters, just where Tifa didn't want to look. "They're long dead by now. Hell, you're missin' for more than a few days and you're most likely dead anyways."
The always optimistic Cid Highwind.
Of course, Cid was right. Usually people who were lost were never found again. Alive, that is. Tifa felt her heart tighten inside of her chest. She refused to believe there was no chance in finding Cloud. While most lost people were never found, the occasional few were. And Tifa hoped beyond all hope that Cloud was one of those few.
Cid winced when he saw Tifa's expression. "Aw, shit. Tifa, I didn't mean-"
"No, you're right. But it doesn't mean that I won't try, Cid."
The ex-pilot nodded his head and said nothing more. It was her choice and he respected her for that. It took guts to believe in something that was constantly being put to the test. He took another puff on his cigarette and watched as the door to the gun shop swung open. Vincent had a rifle in his right hand's grip and with a quick flash of something that barely passed as a smile he shouldered the big weapon. Cid could make out the word "Winchester" in silver letters carved into the gun's wooden handle. The ex-pilot took his cigarette out from between his lips and grinned. No doubt his friend had other guns hidden somewhere under that cloak of his, other than his nine-millimeter semiautomatics.
Barret had bought a new extension for his gun-arm and some more ammunition. The big man finished snapping whatever it was into place before he looked up at the group of three and nodded his approval.
Time to go.
Vincent extended his free hand - actually, it was that golden claw of his - out towards the street. "After you." His voice was that impassive, almost lazy tone with a twinge of amusement. When Barret squinted at him cynically, there was a small, roguish smile tugging at the edges of the bounty hunter's lips. Of course, it very well could have been the shadows playing with Barret's eyes.
The big man snorted. "Damn straight." His left hand went into the pocket of his vest and pulled out what looked like an electronic organizer. Barret pushed a few buttons and waited for something to happen. Nothing did. The big man tried again. After a few moments of cursing and stamping his feet, Tifa took the object away from him.
"You're gonna break it, Barret," Tifa said, punching some buttons in and bringing up a blueprint on the small, black and green screen.
"Hell. It's not my fault. Jessie's the one who understands that stuff."
Cid leaned over Tifa's shoulder and watched as, with another press of a button, a number of small red dots appeared on the screen. "What's this?" As he talked, cigarette smoke fell with a small puff onto the screen.
"It's a map of ShinRa's building. The red dots are different areas." No doubt Jessie had somehow hacked into ShinRa to get that map. Tifa pushed another button and all but one of the red dots vanished. The single red dot flashed brighter, then faded to another screen, which read "Mayor Domino's Office".
"That's where we're goin'?"
Tifa nodded. "That's where all the records in ShinRa are kept."
Records? Cid glanced over at Tifa's face; her expression remained placid, neither a smile nor a frown touched her lips. The ex-pilot scratched the growing stubble on his chin. "The Mayor's office, huh? I thought we were lookin' for Strife."
Tifa silently gave the electronic map back to Barret and walked over to where Vincent was, leaving the two men slightly baffled. Her bounty hunter was leaning against the glass window of the gun store, against all of those depressing "Have you seen me?" posters and blocking most of their faces from Tifa's view. He had been watching them indifferently, his Winchester resting against his shoulder, his right hand around the barrel and his claw on the handle. Obviously, Vincent's interest in the electronic map was very little. Perhaps he didn't need to look at it. After all, he was at one time a Turk. Had he memorized the entire layout of the building? Maybe all Turks had to.
Before Tifa could ask him whatever it was she was going to ask him, Vincent lifted his head up slowly, and said in that impassive tone of his, "We don't need a map."
Tifa sighed. Once again, his voice sounded as far away as the first time they had met. In the passed few days, she thought that perhaps he was warming up to Avalanche. This morning he seemed... Tifa shook her head, those pesky strands of her chocolate hair tickling her cheeks. She guessed that he was much more comfortable pretending that he didn't feel emotions. Perhaps that was the only way he could go on... "I thought as much." Then, more to herself, "Poor Jessie. She went through all of that trouble to get it, too."
Vincent pushed himself off of that poster-covered glass, walked over to Tifa, then stopped once he was besides her. His red-cloaked shoulder barely brushed against hers. "Then I suppose I should thank the girl once we get back, correct?"
Tifa smiled. Once we get back. Not if. Those words somehow lightened the burden inside of her. She didn't know why, especially since Vincent had said them with that same aloofness that he usually had. Heh. Maybe I'm starting to understand the difference between one indifferent tone and the other. Or...am I seeing something there that I couldn't before? head turned slightly to Vincent, who was still standing quietly besides her, as if he was awaiting her response. She couldn't see his face, only those long raven locks of his, which poured down his back.
"Right. When we get back."
Vincent nodded his head slightly and continued on his way to Cid and Barret.
When... we get back, Vincent... Tifa looked one more time at the leaflets covering the glass. Why was it that those faces staring back at her were always smiling with false hope? Those people must have been happy when those pictures were taken. Where had they been during those joyful times? Their homes? Were they family portraits? Holiday pictures? Tifa lowered her gaze to her boots. How many more?
"Teef! Move it, girl!"
Tifa looked back up to Barret, who, along with her two bounty hunters, was already a long way up the vacant, desolate looking street. She spared those missing, happy fools one last glance before she turned around and left.
*
"Wait a damn minute!"
"Why?" came Vincent's reply. This time, he was smiling. It was a genuine smile, something that neither Tifa or Barret had seen from him yet, and the former nearly gawked with what she could only assume was one of her most ridiculous expressions to date. His smile, as if he had forgotten himself for that moment and finally remembered, vanished quickly.
"Because I need a break, that's... why." Cid coughed, took in a long breath of air, and tossed his stub of a cigarette to the right of him. It fell in a stagnate puddle and its silver ringlets of smoke made their intricate patterns in the air briefly before they vanished altogether. "We've been walkin' long enough. Maybe we outta-"
"If you didn't smoke so much, perhaps you wouldn't have a problem keeping up."
Cid leaned on his spear and eyed his friend; that cool, all-knowing flash of a grin was on Vincent's lips again. "Fuck you, Valentine."
Vincent simply turned around again with that fleeting smile until his face was replaced with his thick, black hair. "We'll take a break when we get there. For the meantime, I suggest you don't light up any more."
Cid mumbled something and shouldered his weapon. He started walking again, faster than he had intended, then was stopped abruptly only a few moments later when he slammed into Vincent's back. Cid placed his hands on Vincent's shoulders from behind him and grinned widely. "Gettin' tired, Vin?"
"We're here. You can rest now, Cid."
The ex-pilot's forehead wrinkled when his eyebrows rose up slowly. Vincent got him yet again. Damn. "You're a bastard, you know that?" Cid sat on the paved ground with a rather distinct thud. The noise echoed in the empty caverns the lofty buildings made. He craned his head upward to see the largest building amongst the others, and it stood out much like a raven between two doves. None of the other buildings were exactly dripping in charm, but ShinRa's, whether intended or not, had that strange, muggy haze surrounding it. It stretched upward, passed the piped ceiling, higher still, most likely up to the heavens themselves. Company of God indeed.
"Of course the ShinRa building has to be the biggest. God forbid that it doesn't match their inflated heads." Tifa wrapped her arms around herself. Despite the warmth in the air, she still felt her skin crawl, like the cold hands of death had suddenly reached out through the mist just for her. Her neck began to ache, too. It was impossible to see the whole building from their position. "He's in there... somewhere."
"It's as ugly as before. Probably got even uglier." Barret rubbed the back of his head, then rolled his neck to rid it of any kinks. They were off to the left of the ShinRa building itself, hidden in the shadows of an alleyway. "We should figure out a way in."
A small chuckle came from Cid and he nodded his head over to his friend. "I was thinkin' the front doors. How 'bout you, Vin?"
Vincent warily eyed the steps leading to the main entrance, and then the two glass doors themselves. There were two guards sitting there, idly chatting and leaning against the entryway. ShinRa's security? It was a lot more than that in my day... Of course they couldn't possibly be the only guards. The inside was most likely crawling with them. Perhaps the element of surprise was with them then this time? After all, how many people foolishly choose to wage war on the Company of God? Us, that's who. Vincent smiled faintly.
"The front doors sound fine to me, Cid."
"Are you outta your damn minds?" Barret hissed. "Shit, I would love to bust in there, but-"
"Then do so." Vincent shouldered his rifle and regarded the big man with one red eye, the other hidden in his thick hair.
"We can't, damnit! Do you know how many-"
"Two. There's two."
Barret stomped his foot. "Avalanche!" He gestured over to Tifa with one exaggerated jab of an index finger. Something told Vincent that if it were not for Tifa's presence, Barret would have indeed charged in there with his gun-arm ready for action. But he was holding back for Tifa's sake. "We're not gonna be welcomed in there, Valentine!"
Vincent would have told the stubborn man that Tifa could very well take care of herself and that he of all people should know this, but the bounty hunter knew that Barret's concern for Tifa was well founded. He was her surrogate father, after all. He'd always worry about her. Instead, Vincent settled for, "Do they know what you look like?"
"What the hell's that gotta do with-"
"Do they know what you look like, Barret?" Vincent repeated, his usual calm demeanor beginning to wear thin.
Barret tightened his jaw. He knew where Vincent was taking this. He sighed and shook his head, cursing softly. "I don't think so."
"Then what's the problem?"
"Ya think they're gonna let us stroll on in? You're more of a jackass than I thought."
Perhaps. I'm doing this to save a ghost, aren't I? I've had brighter ideas... Vincent's red orbs watched Barret calmly. The big man wanted assurance that Tifa would come out of this with that Strife boy and with no bodily harm. Make that safety with body and mind. Vincent walked two steps closer to Barret, their noses barely touching. Neither man, however, backed away. Their eyes met and for once it was obvious to both that they agreed with each other on this particular subject. "I'll die before I let anything happen to her." Vincent said it low, maybe so that Tifa wouldn't hear.
But she did hear. And when she blushed slightly it became fairly obvious. Tifa bit her lower lip and stood before both men, her fists resting attentively on her hips. "You know, I can take care of myself."
Vincent and Barret looked away from each other and towards Tifa, who was glaring up at them with slightly flushed cheeks and furrowed eyebrows. Barret scratched the back of his head and grinned sheepishly.
"Uh... Tifa, I just..." He let his words hang in the already weighty air.
A small smile tugged at Tifa's lips. She couldn't hide it. It felt nice to have people around her who truly cared. Tifa's smile widened. They were one hell of a screwed up family, but nevertheless a family. "I know, Barret." She rested her hand on his thick, folded arms. "But I came here to help, not to sit back and watch." She crossed her arms confidently, to match Barret's. "Besides, you need me."
Barret sighed with a half smile on his face, and shook his head, as if to clear it. "Yeah. I know we do."
Cid cleared his throat suddenly, standing up and leaning on the rounded end of his spear, the sharp metal tip digging into the already split asphalt beneath them. "So, we gonna move out or continue with the sentimental shit?"
Barret frowned.
Vincent grabbed the handle of his Winchester and raised his right arm up, the barrel of the rifle resting on his shoulder, the weapon's brown strap dangling down loosely beneath it. "We move. Cid and I will lure the guards over here. I think if two of us are dressed in ShinRa uniforms, we could pass easily as guards escorting two prisoners through the building."
Barret grunted, but otherwise remained silent. Cid and Vincent would better fit into the ShinRa uniforms than he would anyway. The big man glanced over his muscular arms and broad chest, then back to the two unsuspecting ShinRa guards. He'd most likely rip the uniform in two.
Tifa, though, wasn't as compromising. "I think it would be much better if Cid and me go."
Something flickered in Vincent's eyes as he glanced back at Tifa. "And why is that?"
"Well, for one, I'm quite sure that while your clothes would fit under the uniform, that red thing wouldn't work too well." Tifa smiled slightly and grabbed a fistful of his cloak. "Secondly, you and Barret look more like threatening Avalanche terrorists." She stressed the last word with a fairly amused undertone. Terrorists indeed. "And third... Let's just say that you and Barret already have enough guns."
Cid grinned widely. "The girl has a point."
Vincent's two red orbs regarded Tifa with a lingering stare and they promptly roamed from her stubborn face to her feet, then those wraithlike eyes probed the ShinRa soldiers in the distance. One of the two did seem shorter. But even so, Tifa would most likely be swimming in those clothes. The bounty hunter raised his eyebrow with quiet amusement. Why do I get the feeling that she's doing this simply to irk me? One casual look back at Tifa and she only smiled innocently.
At least she seemed happier out here fighting than in those darker days before...
"If it pleases you so, Lady, beat away." Vincent waved his right hand, as if to dismiss the girl and leaned against the alley's wall. "Just don't take too long."
Tifa unfolded her arms and flexed her finger. "With pleasure, Valentine." She nodded over to Cid, who simply shrugged and followed after her, draping his spear horizontally across his shoulder blades and resting his arms on either end.
Barret's face creased with worry, but he said nothing. He looked back over to Vincent, who seemed as impassive as usual. Then again, if Tifa and Cid had been skipping merrily over to the guards while singing at the top of their lungs, something told Barret that Vincent's face would remain the same way. The big man smiled slightly. He had to admire Vincent for that. The man never let personal feelings get in the way of business. Or perhaps it was the promise of money that kept him so levelheaded. Barret returned his attention to the now distant figures of Cid and Tifa.
Cid was behind Tifa, who was talking to both men and pointing over towards the shadows of the alley that Barret and Vincent were currently in. The look on Tifa's face was panic with a dash of womanly vulnerability. Barret grinned again. The joke was on the ShinRa guards, of course. Tifa would pulverize them the minute they were far enough away from the ShinRa building. Maybe Cid wouldn't even get the chance to help. The two guards looked with suspicion at Cid, but their faces softened somewhat when Tifa began talking again. Barret couldn't hear the words that came from those slightly quivering lips, but he was certain that it was something that would catch the sympathy of the ShinRa men. The shorter of the two guards seemed to buy Tifa's story and pulled on the other man's arm, trying to convince him to check out the area where Tifa had been pointing to. Both men began walking towards Barret and Vincent. The big man glanced at Vincent in that moment.
A small smile touched the bounty hunter's lips.
"They don't make guards like they used to," Vincent simply said.
"Damn right they don't." Barret snorted, his arms still dutifully crossed before his chest. "Some time ago they probably would've locked 'em up just for talkin' to 'em. ShinRa's gettin' stupid."
"No." Vincent said the word with his usual impassiveness, but there was a bitter and sharp underlining escaping from barely opened lips. It made Barret look over at him in surprise. "ShinRa is getting arrogant. They will never be stupid."
A muffled cry from one of the guards made Barret jump slightly; he hadn't noticed how close the guards had gotten, his attention being with Vincent's words. With the rounded bottom of his spear, Cid knocked the short guard unconscious. Tifa kicked the taller one in the chest, forcing the wind from out his lungs and stunning him long enough to finished with a swift punch to the head; he crumbled to the ground with a soft moan. Tifa placed her hands back on her hips and leaned on her left foot expectantly.
"Easy enough." She brushed her hair away from her face. "What now?"
"We play dress up." Cid plucked the strange blue helmet and brown mask from off the taller of the ShinRa guards, revealing a middle-aged blond. He put the helmet on, frowned when it didn't fit properly, then took it off again with a whispered curse. Cid reluctantly undid his goggles' straps, carefully released his pack of cigarettes from under the brown band and placed the goggles on Vincent's head. His friend never even blinked. Cid smiled and tossed his cigarettes to Vincent, then placed the ShinRa helmet back on his head with a satisfied grin.
"How do I look?" came Tifa's voice, once she had undone the shorter guard's uniform and easily slipped it over her own clothes. She spun around with her arms outstretched and the helmet securely on her head. It wasn't the most comfortable outfit she had ever worn; it was too restricting across her chest and much too loose around her waist, even when the belt was attached.
"Too damn nice to be a ShinRa guard." Barret huffed, his arms still crossed and that frown, which had come quickly when looking at Tifa's new clothes, still planted on his face. "Wish there was another way..."
"There ain't, unless you want real ShinRa guards escorting us." Cid adjusted the helmet and handed his spear to Vincent, who threw it over to Barret's free hand. The ex-pilot inspected the brown mask with a displeased look. Reasoning that he would be better off wearing the mask, Cid attached it beneath the visor of the helmet. The only things of his that showed now were his crystal blue eyes. He shouldered the rifle that was customary with the ShinRa uniform. It was simple and black, not quite as large as Vincent's Winchester. "We ready?"
Tifa held her rifle with one hand and searched her pockets with the other. "Cid, do you have handcuffs?"
Cid coughed.
"What the hell are you talkin' 'bout, Tifa?" Barret eyed the girl wisely. His brown eyes widened when Tifa pulled out those handcuffs and held them up towards Vincent, as if assessing the size of his wrists, metal ones and all. "Uh, Tifa...?"
"It's purely for show, Barret. Why would guards be escorting two prisoners without handcuffs? Remember, we have to look as realistic as possible..." Tifa grabbed Vincent's right hand and fumbled with one of the cuffs. "Besides... We have the keys."
Vincent raised a dark eyebrow.
"What?!" Barret shot a withering glare towards Cid, who only grinned, his gun resting on his shoulder. "There ain't no way I'm wearin' handcuffs!" The big man looked over at Vincent, as if expecting the bounty hunter to object with him. Vincent, however, didn't seem to care either way and only looked at his wrists with mild curiosity. Tifa finished handcuffing her bounty hunter with a content smile. Barret groaned. There was no way in all of the fiery pits of hell that he would ever let Cid put those things on him. The big man grabbed the handcuffs from Cid with a displeased grunt and fastened them on himself, sparing one more defying scowl at the ex-pilot. "You better have the damn keys."
*
Tifa looked back at her "prisoner", a smile, unseen beneath her brown ShinRa mask, spreading across her face. Vincent had his red cloth band wrapped around the fingerless glove of his right hand and Cid's goggles pushing back his hair from his stubbornly deadpan looking face. He did seem somewhat uncomfortable, however. Her smile faded. Perhaps it was being back in the ShinRa building... She couldn't help but wonder just what terrible things he had seen, what terrible things he had done, back in his Turk days.
Turks...
What if Reno and Rude were here? Tifa glanced around with that thought, realizing just how awkward it was to breathe in her ShinRa mask. They wouldn't recognize her and Cid with the uniforms on, but they would definitely remember Vincent and Barret. How could you overlook those two? They would stand out in any crowd.
Tifa and Cid had brought Barret and Vincent into the ShinRa building with little resistance. There was one guard who insisted upon seeing their keycards, which every ShinRa employee had to have on them at all times. Tifa and Cid easily found theirs in the pockets of their borrowed uniforms. The keycard, sadly, only allowed access up to the sixtieth floor. And the Mayor's office was on the sixty-second. Tifa had to bite her tongue to stop herself from groaning aloud when she had read that on that damnable piece of plastic. How were they supposed to get to Mayor Domino's office?
Barret fought against his handcuffs as they made way over to the elevators on the side wall. "How long is this gonna take?" He whispered into Cid's ear.
Cid answered him with a shrug.
The big man shuffled along behind Cid, cursing softly with each step.
Tifa grabbed Vincent arm the way she assumed a guard escorting a prisoner in shackles would do and looked around as casually as she could. Despite her hatred towards ShinRa, they had nice taste when it came to building design. Most of the walls were clear glass, allowing you to see out to the underground world with more clarity. And since the building was dead in the middle of Midgar, Tifa supposed it was easier to keep an eye on all of the different sectors, from the lower levels anyway. The bastards sure as hell were smart. Tifa's hold on Vincent's upper arm tightened. She suddenly remembered her reason for being here. Cloud... What if he did come back here voluntarily? She felt Vincent instinctively flinch when her fingernails dug in too deep.
Tifa cringed. "Sorry, Vincent," she whispered.
"Are you all right?" His voice was softer than usual and right besides her ear. His warm breath made her body suddenly tremble, despite her best efforts to keep still. It was partly because she hadn't expected him to speak, yet alone so close to her ear that she could actually feel his lips brush against that sensitive skin.
"I'm fine." Tifa nodded quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly because Vincent's expression clearly showed that he didn't believe her. Once they reached the elevators, she stabbed the button and let go of Vincent's arm with a somewhat uneasy sigh. She looked around nervously and didn't stop doing so until the elevator doors finally opened.
Cid stuck his head in quickly, then back out again with the same speed when a few office workers, chatting away happily, came walking out of the elevator. They gave Cid a passing glance, then went on their way. Cid's eyes shifted over to Vincent for a moment, and with a little sigh, the four of them practically jumped into the elevator. Once he spotted the side panel, Cid repeatedly pressed the round "sixty" button more times than was necessary.
The doors slid noiselessly closed.
Tifa released the breath of air she had been holding since the elevator let those seemingly harmless employees off. With a gasp, she undid the mask around the bottom half of her face and let it dangle from the side of the helmet. "I can hardly breathe in that damn thing..." She took one more gasp of air for good measure and leaned on the metal wall of the elevator, half of her face against the cool, smooth surface. She watched her reflection silently.
"Hell, rest while you can. It'll be a long ride up to sixty." Cid instinctively reached for his packet of cigarettes, which usually were behind his ear, then remembered that he no longer had them. His fingers bushed against the hard, blue helmet instead. Cid scoffed. He undid his ShinRa mask as well, then jumped slightly when he felt something on his shoulder. Cid glanced over to see Vincent's hand, the other hanging next to it in silver chains, with a cigarette between two of his fingers.
Cid smiled stupidly at his friend. "Thanks, Vin." He happily took the slender stick, which never looked as beautiful as it did at that very moment, and undid the top part of the uniform, fishing underneath for the lighter in his jacket pocket. He lit his cigarette and took a long puff, which ended in a satisfied sigh. "I guess we gotta ask someone for a keycard to the next floor."
Barret shifted awkwardly in his handcuffs. "I still got that map."
"We don't need it. There are sixty-nine floors, the Mayor's being on the sixty-second. Whatever you need to get from his office is what I would be worried about." Vincent curled the fingers of his metal claw carefully. If he needed to, he could very well break out of his handcuffs at any time. The means of getting them off wasn't the problem; it was the restricted feeling that he hated. It brought back...unwanted memories. "Though I'm quite sure we can persuade Mayor Domino into giving us access. Perhaps even to the lab-"
"What lab?" Tifa's head poked up from off the elevator wall with renewed interest.
Vincent's red eyes blinked calmly. "It's of no concern to you."
Tifa's brow furrowed in clear disagreement, but she thought better to remain silent. She could argue with Vincent once they got there. Tifa's eyes narrowed as she watched him close those red orbs and lean his head against the wall. Was he planning on leaving them once she got Cloud back? She hadn't exactly thought about what Vincent planned to do after this, never wanted to think about it, but now it was as if she could think of nothing else. She would get Cloud back, of course. Vincent Valentine promised as much. But would he abandon them then afterwards and go in search of his own little mystery?
Vincent opened his eyes once he felt someone watching him. Tifa didn't look away from him, only continued to watch him with that slightly furrowed brow and partially opened lips. She wanted to go with him to wherever it was he wished to go; she would have gone anywhere with him at that moment. But she knew Vincent would never ask that much of her. Here and now he existed for only one purpose: get Cloud Strife. Nothing else mattered.
Nothing else was supposed to matter.
Tifa was brought out of her musings when the elevator suddenly stopped. That was fast... She glanced up at the digital numbers above the elevator doors, a small uneasy knot forming deep inside of her stomach.
It was only the thirty-third floor.
"What the hell?" Cid breathed.
"The Turks' keycards can override most things. I suppose whoever it is needs an elevator." Vincent looked down at his chained hands, debating on whether or not to break free and get ready for battle. He looked over at Cid, who was positioning his mask into place again over the bottom half of his face. Vincent briefly thought of Rude and Reno. By the time Tifa had gotten her own mask back on, the doors finally split apart to reveal their new companion.
It was a blond haired woman, in the usual Turk attire, carrying two Styrofoam cups, supposedly filled with coffee. She blinked in surprise, obviously not suspecting such a color group of people, and walked quietly onto the elevator.
It's a damn Turk all right... Cid groaned inwardly
Vincent casually looked over the young woman and her two cups of coffee. A small smile touched his lips. She was a novice, perhaps just a few days in, perhaps lacking the proper expertise of the field... Perhaps even a tad ignorant. She obviously didn't recognize him or Barret, who by now, Vincent was quite certain, had had their pictures circulated from the sixty-first floor on up.
The young woman sighed impatiently and held her right hand upward, cup and all, trying to see the watch she had beneath the sleeve of her dark blue suit. Then she blushed slightly and stumbled over to the button panel, fumbling with her second cup, and pressing and lighting up the forty-second button. "Sorry, I forgot," she apologized, turning back around to face the now closing doors.
There was an awkward silence that filled the nearly claustrophobic area. It was interrupted every now and then by Cid clearing his throat or the woman impatiently tapping her foot. Then it happened. Vincent knew it the moment he saw the young woman's expression change and her eyes widened in the reflection of the doors. She finally recognized them.
Damn. Vincent closed his eyes tightly with frustration. Now here come the questions.
"Hey!" The woman turned around and pointed with her coffee cup towards Cid. "You got the people from Avalanche! I heard you guys messed Reno up pretty bad." There was a bit of awe in her voice, oddly accompanied by a dash of anger. "Heidegger's gonna have a damn heart attack. Do you soldiers have any idea how long we've been looking for the members of that terrorist group?"
Cid and Tifa exchanged blank looks, the latter shoving her elbow into the first.
"Uh..." Cid grabbed his side. "A long time?" Tifa winced visibly with his response. The ex-pilot only shrugged helplessly.
"You have no idea..." The woman moved closer to Cid, who obviously didn't like being so closely scrutinized and swiftly backed up into Vincent. She squinted her eyes at the bounty hunter, who was too tall to be hidden behind Cid. "Valentine, right? You're a special case." She nodded her head as if to prove her point. "The professor himself requested you. Heard you kicked Rude's butt." The woman's awed face brightened with a wide grin. No matter how authentic the claim was, she knew how Rude and Reno were so terribly confident with themselves, especially the latter. Truthfully, she was a bit pleased to see the stuffing get kicked out of them. She finally had something to rub in their faces, for once. She looked back to Cid. "And they say he's good. How'd you catch him?"
Cid finally gave up and rolled his eyes. "He was sleepin' in a dumpster. I came by makin' my usual rounds - 'cause they got me on trash portal now - and I found him there. He was pretty wasted."
Vincent cringed.
The woman raised her light colored eyebrows, completely unaware of Cid's cynical tone. "Is that where the big guy was too?"
"Big guy?" Barret spat. "Who the hell're you callin'-" He was quickly silenced courtesy of Tifa's elbow.
"Sure, why not?" Cid's muffled voice came from behind the mask as he quickly threw his half-forgotten cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.
The elevator finally stopped at that moment and the usual ding noise made Tifa practically jump out of her boots. The blond woman turned around again, like she was expecting someone to be waiting there for her once the doors split apart, then sighed and shook her head, her chin level hair thrashing her cheeks. "You guys are gonna get a real good promotion for this." She bent down and placed one of her coffee cups on the floor, then outstretched her hand to Cid. "My name's Elena."
Cid looked down at the offered hand skeptically. When Tifa glared at him, her eyes telling him to take the damn woman's greeting and be done with it, Cid reluctantly accepted her hand.
"Well? What's your names?"
Cid cursed silently. One thing he was not good at was making something up spur of the moment. "Uh-"
"You said the professor wanted me..." Vincent gladly interrupted, which took the grateful Cid, Elena and everyone else in the elevator by surprise. His eyes seemed to prod Elena with cold insistence. "Which professor?"
Elena bent down to pick up her coffee cup, positioning herself between the elevator and forty-second floor, so that doors wouldn't close. She watched him only briefly before she looked away from those strange eyes of his. "Professor Hojo, of course."
Vincent's jaw tightened.
The Turk turned around to leave.
Cid pulled off his mask at that moment, closing his eyes and leaning his head against Vincent's chest behind him. "Shit, Vin. That was close."
There was a sharp intake of air, which echoed in the small area of the elevator, then Elena's hand shot out and stopped the elevator doors from closing.
Cid bit his tongue. "Aw, damnit..."
"You damn jackass!" Barret fought against his handcuffs and watched as Elena swung back around, a look of both embarrassment and shock on her pretty face. If Barret's hands were free, he would have taken Cid's spear, which rested between his shackled arm and his chest, and beaten Cid over the head with it.
The Turk's eyes became thin slits. "What... did you just say?"
Cid burst from out of the elevator and pushed Elena aside, throwing his mask and helmet on the ground behind him. Despite the fact that he had just blown their cover and that they were nowhere near the sixtieth floor, he was happy enough to be rid of that damn burdensome ShinRa gear. He shoved his hands into his pockets and fished for his key, turning around in order to free Vincent of his handcuffs. But Vincent had already taken the liberty. He somehow managed to break them off with very little difficulty and now simply tossed whatever was left of them to the ground. Tifa, after dropping her mask and helmet, too, ran besides Barret and unlocked his handcuffs. She looked back over her shoulder to Elena, whose coffee was all over the elevator floor by now.
"Hey! Stop!" Elena threw down a Styrofoam cup in annoyance and reached into her coffee-spattered suite for her gun. Her angry cries drew the attention of more ShinRa guards and she shouted orders to them, pointing with her gun in the direction the four imposters had ran off in.
Cid rounded the corner first, then spun in a circle before Vincent grabbed him by the collar of his blue uniform and pulled him towards the stairs. Along the way, Tifa and Cid disposed of their ShinRa clothes, except, of course, for the rifles.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Cid cursed, taking his spear from Barret, and pulling the rifle's strap over his head. "I didn't know the damn woman had good hearing!"
"You were standin' right next to her!" Barret retorted, looking over his shoulder and listening to the sickening sound of a dozen or so ShinRa guards and their boots pounding in rhythmic order upon the ground.
"It doesn't matter. Those two guards outside have most likely woken up by now anyway. It was only a matter of time before they found us out." Vincent rounded another set of stairs. What floor was it now? The forty-forth? Forty-fifth? Vincent's head snapped up once they rounded another set of steps to see the number forty-five, large and black on the cement wall. The lighting may have been minimal, but his eyes found it with startling precision. He knew they would never make it to the sixtieth floor by the staircase alone. By now, that Elena girl had probably phoned ahead to the upper floors. They would mostly likely meet with a classic pincer trap.
Vincent stopped running, which made the three behind ram into his back.
"What're we stoppin' for, Valentine?" Barret panted, and though he didn't say it, he was obviously relieved to be pausing for a breather. He leaned with his gun-arm against the cement wall, supporting the rest of his hunched over body, and blinked a few times in the dim lighting of the stairwell.
Vincent went straight for the door leading to the forty-fifth floor. His right hand snapped out towards Tifa. She stared at him for a moment, then reached into one of her pockets for the keycard she prayed she still had. To her relief, her hands found the piece of plastic that could very well save their hides. Without hesitation she handed it to her bounty hunter.
The boots' pounding on the metal steps grew closer.
Vincent swiped the card for the door, cursed when it didn't accepted it, panic only briefly swelling inside of him, then tried again. The light on the lock switched from red to green and the two members of Avalanche and their bounty hunters ran through with a gust of renewed energy. The metal panels of the door softly came together for an airtight seal behind them. Vincent looked around, trying to get his bearings as fast as humanly possible.
Damnit, Valentine! You're not human anymore, so do better than human! Vincent's right hand reached for Tifa's, surprising her greatly, and surprising himself as well. His fingers tightened around hers as they moved along passed hallways and offices and surprised ShinRa employees. The last thing he was going to do was lose her. He promised her safely. He promised her Cloud Strife. And, damnit, she'd get both before he died.
Vincent picked through the dim lighting with his blood-red eyes.
Fifteen floors to go.
|