It’s a three-hour plane ride from Midgar to Junon and I slept most of the way. The company jets are very comfortable, so it was a very good sleep. I didn’t wake up until Reno came over to the bunk I’d taken and told me we were entering Junon airspace. “Up and at ‘em, rookie! We’re over Junon.”
I sat up and yawned, rubbing my eyes to clear the sleep from them. “Already, sir? How long did I sleep?”
Reno shrugged and grinned. “The whole damn way, rookie. You’re cute when you’re asleep. Comfy jet, huh?”
I blushed. “Didn’t you sleep, sir?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“Nope. Can’t sleep at a time like this. Too wired.”
“Are you nervous, sir,” I asked, a little concerned. Reno was twitchy. It was more than just his absentminded fidgeting to vent all the extra energy he seems to have, it was more restless and jittery. He was actually shaking. “You look edgy, sir.”
Reno shook his head. “It’s nothing, rookie. Go get ready to disembark. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Yes, sir.” I headed towards the front of the plane and got my shoes from where I’d left them by the passenger door, but I watched Reno while I put them on. He’d headed to the bathroom at the back of the jet and opened the door of the medicine cupboard inside. I leaned forward, fumbling with the knots on my shoes as I watched him. He took out a small bottle from the cupboard and shook two or three pills into his hand, then swallowed them dry, without water or anything.
I stared down at my shoes as he looked towards me, and then risked another glance at him. He’d closed the door of the medicine cupboard and was busy straightening his tie. I wondered if he’d seen me watching, so I decided to chance asking him about it.
“Do you have a headache, sir?” I questioned as Reno came out of the bathroom and joined me by the door. The plane had landed at Junon International Airport and was taxiing to a stop on the runway.
“Huh?” Reno glanced at me briefly and realized I’d seen him. “Oh…yeah. Just a headache. No worries, rookie.”
Reno is the kind of person who simply can’t lie. I don’t know why he can’t, but there’s something about his tone of voice that let’s you know right away that he isn’t telling the truth. I let it pass, though. “All right, sir. I hope it gets better.”
“I’ll be fine, rookie. C’mon. Our plane didn’t crash, like I was expecting, so we’d better go. You ever been to Junon?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t ever been, but I knew the city like the back of my hand. At least as well as I knew Midgar, where I’d grown up. All Turks study the major cities, in case they ever wind up doing missions there. It’s important to know how to get from one place to another.
“Well, I’ll tell you right now, it’s a great, big, dirty city and I hate it.”
This took me slightly by surprise. “You hate it, sir?”
Reno nodded vigorously as the door of the plane opened and we climbed out. “With a passion. It’s ugly and rusty and it stinks. And something bad always happens when I go to Junon. Let’s go get a cab. Make sure it doesn’t run you over.”
I looked around the airport curiously as I followed Reno into the terminal building. I hadn’t seen much of it, but Junon didn’t seem so bad. The airport looked out over the glossy black ocean to the west and I could see the sun rising back in the east. It was actually kind of pretty.
It was still early, only about nine o’clock (we’d left Midgar at around five), but the airport was bustling with people. I stayed behind Reno as best I could, but he walks fast and I got lost among the crowd once or twice. But he always showed up from my left or my right (never in front of me) and grabbed me by the arm. Eventually we reached an elevator down to the street level of Junon. “Try not to jostle the car too much. The cable’s liable to snap,” Reno cautioned as we stepped on.
“Why do you say that, sir? I mean…Junon can’t be that bad…”
“Every Turk,” Reno announced grandly, as we took the elevator down, “has an unlucky city. No matter what you do, something will always go wrong with whatever missions you do in said city. Junon is mine. I can guarantee that something is going to go wrong with this mission, rookie. It might be big, it might be little, but something’ll get screwed up.”
I didn’t believe him. I don’t believe in luck or chance. “Are you sure it might not all be in your head, sir?” I asked hesitantly.
“If it’s in my head, then it’s in everybody else’s too. It’s a statistically proven fact that some Turks do worse in some cities than in others,” Reno declared as we got off the elevator and left the airport. “There’s always one city in particular for everybody. Why do you think we have branch offices all over the world? They’re for the Turks who have problems with Midgar.”
I was sure he was pulling my leg. I hadn’t heard a word of this when I was in the Academy and it didn’t make any sense. “You’re kidding aren’t you, sir?” I said skeptically.
Reno sighed and shook his head. “No, rookie. You’ll understand when you find yours. For now, try not to walk under any ladders or pick up any tail up pennies. I’ve got a corner on the bad luck market in Junon.”
“All right, sir.”
Reno flagged down a cab and stood about ten feet back from the curb as the driver pulled up. I climbed in while he went around the front and lifted the hood, checking the engine.
“What the hell’s he doin’ to my cab?” the cabby demanded as Reno slammed the hood shut and then dropped down out of sight, presumably examining the underside of the car.
I recognized the behavior and flushed slightly. “He’s…uh…checking for explosives. My colleague is a little paranoid about Junon.”
“Just a little,” the cabby muttered as Reno climbed in the back with me.
“No bombs that I could find,” he reported, suspiciously eyeing the driver, who looked about seventy-three years old. “Listen, pal, no funny stuff. Take us to the Hotel Crowley on…”
“I know where the Crowley Hotel is!” the cabby interrupted belligerently. Apparently he and Reno had gotten off on the wrong foot. “I lived here my whole damn life and I don’t need no upstart Turk tellin’ me where t’go!”
Reno muttered something under his breath that I didn’t quite catch and slumped down in his seat bad temperedly.
“What’s the President like, sir?” I asked after a few minutes, to try and get some of the bad feeling out of the cab.
“The President’s a cantankerous old asshole who doesn’t listen to anybody,” Reno answered truthfully. “But he’s not so bad if you know how to handle him.”
This knowledge upset me a bit. “Do you know how to handle him, sir?” I asked nervously.
“Oh, yeah. He likes me. He doesn’t listen to me, but he likes me well enough.” Reno sighed heavily and stared out the window. “I’m not exactly tickled about this assignment, rookie. It’s gonna be tough.”
“Well, at least we know what to expect, sir.”
“Yeah. A whole lotta trouble.”
I was getting a definite feeling that Reno was in a bad mood. I couldn’t help thinking there was more to it than just being in Junon, but I didn’t know what. As we pulled up to the hotel, his PHS rang, so I paid the cabby.
“I’m sorry about him, sir,” I apologized quietly, once Reno had moved out of earshot to get better reception, and gave the cabby a tip. “He’s just in a bit of a sore mood. He didn’t enjoy the plane ride over.”
The cabby waved away my apology. “That’s all right, girly. He’s better tempered then some of the Turks I’ve met. Have yourself a good day!”
“You too, sir!” I called after the cabby as he drove off down the street.
I went over to where Reno was talking to Veld, one hand cupped around his tiny cell phone and the other covering his ear so he could hear better above the roar of the traffic behind us. “Affirmative, Commander…Yes, sir…right away, sir…Yeah, I did, sir, same as goddamn always…two of them…sorry, sir, it’s just that Junon makes me nervous. Roger, sir.”
“What did the commander say?” I asked, as Reno snapped his PHS shut and returned it to his pocket.
“He wanted to know if we’d reached the hotel yet. I told him we had. He told me that the President is waiting for us in the Presidential Suite on the top floor and that we’re to report to him immediately.”
“Why did you apologize to him?” I questioned, as we went into the hotel and to the elevators.
Reno shifted slightly and jabbed the button for the top floor. “He told me not to be short with him,” he answered uncomfortably.
“Oh.” I glanced around the lobby while we waited. It was a beautiful old building, with marble floors and stone walls and polished mahogany paneled walls, but what made it even better were the guards posted everywhere. There were at least six with guns in the lobby alone. “Don’t all these guards make the other guests nervous?” I asked curiously.
Reno looked at me strangely. “There aren’t any other guests, rookie,” he explained. “The President is here for his annual address to the city of Junon. He speaks to the citizens, inspects the troops, and poses for a few photo ops…he’s booked the whole damn hotel solid.”
He laughed at me then, because my mouth dropped open. “Th-the entire hotel?”
“It’s not that big of a hotel, really. And President Shinra doesn’t like to be disturbed. Besides, other guests are a security hazard. Anyone can check into a hotel. His entourage takes up the whole top floor. They’ve all left early to set up for the press conference. The rest of the floors are empty, except for five guards on each. Most of the hotel staff is even taken off duty. It’s a big deal.”
“I’ll say,” I agreed as the elevator came to the main floor with a soft chime. I glanced at the panel when we got in and saw that there were only three floors in total, including the main floor. “How many guards are there here?”
Reno squinted thoughtfully, and then quickly counted on his fingers. “Only about ten, right now. Most of them are setting up a perimeter at the Junon Branch Office, where the press conference is taking place. This is a really big deal, rookie. As soon as this one ends, they’ll start the planning for the next one. We got here during a lull. The lull, as a matter of fact. There is a six-hour window before the press conference when the majority of the President’s entourage and body-guards are occupied away from him. They’ve been doing this for years, and apparently it can’t be avoided. This is the danger zone. Normally it’s not a problem, but we’ve got AVALANCHE to worry about.”
“How bad do you think it’s going to be? With AVALANCHE, I mean.”
Reno shrugged. “I really don’t know. There were a lot of them in Midgar, and it’s obvious that this attack is coordinated…and if they’ve timed it for now, then they know about the lull. Speaking reasonably, rookie, it could be pretty damn bad.”
The elevator stopped at the top floor and we stepped out into a richly carpeted hallway, lit softly by golden chandeliers and sconces on the walls. “This place is nice.”
“Nothing but the best for the President, rookie,” Reno agreed, and then winked at me. “That’s why we’re here.”
He headed down the hallway with me on his heels, stopping in front of a door with two stiff looking guards in front of it. “Keep up the good work, gentlemen.”
The guard nodded. “Yes, sir. The President is waiting for you, sir.”
“Ah, good. Has he had his morning scotch yet? He usually sneaks it into his coffee.”
“U-uh…I wouldn’t know anything about that, sir,” the guard stuttered.
Reno made a face. “Damn. I hope he has. He’ll be an absolute bitch to deal with if he’s not at least a little drunk.”
The guard shrugged, looking embarrassed, and stepped aside to let Reno in. I waited and smiled at the guard. “Don’t worry. Reno says whatever comes into his head. He makes everybody feel sort of weird.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the guard answered, smiling at me a little.
“Let us know if anything happens, please,” I advised, then entered the President’s room. I wasn’t in there very long, but I remember being blown away by everything he had in it. This was a hotel room? I’d never seen such opulence in my life. My entire year’s salary probably wouldn’t cover just what filled the living room. The thing that caught my attention first was the massive flat screen TV on the far wall of the main room, broadcasting the latest news.
Reno was standing with the President, patiently pouring a shot of scotch into his coffee. “One shot, sir? Or two?”
“Make it a double, Turk,” the President growled, still dressed in a maroon silk bathrobe and slippers. The President is a beefy man of about fifty, with reddish blonde hair and a bristly mustache. It was only about nine in the morning and he already had a cigar clamped in his jaws. He’s imposing, to say the very least. But I didn’t find him nearly as striking as Commander Veld.
“Turk,” he addressed Reno, once he’d downed half his coffee, and jerked his head in my direction. “Who’s the little blonde package over there?”
I stood at attention and saluted when Reno introduced me. “That’s…uh…my subordinate, sir.”
“Rosalind, Mr. President,” I added. “Fifth-class.”
“They gave you a subordinate, Turk?” The president chuckled gruffly. “I thought there were rules against that.”
Reno flushed slightly and I could tell the remark had stung. “She’s very good, sir.”
“She’d have to be, if you’re the one in charge of her.” He squinted at me. “Come over here, blondie.”
I glanced at Reno and he nodded slightly. I walked over to the President and saluted again. He looked me up and down a few times, and then beckoned me closer. I stepped forward a few feet and he indicated I was to turn around. I was a little confused, but he was the President. As soon as I turned around, however, he reached out and pinched me.
I yelped (I’m ashamed to say so, but that’s really the only word for it) and shied away as he laughed at me. It took all the training I had and all the years of having the President’s portrait staring down on me in the Academy mess hall every morning not to kill him. “Oh, loosen up, blondie,” he scoffed.
“S-sorry, sir…” was all I could manage, staring at the floor with my cheeks flaming.
“Maybe it’s time for you to go get dressed for your speech, sir?” Reno suggested.
The President grunted. “Oh, if I must. Stupid dirty city. Oh well. Anything to keep the idiot masses happy.” He heaved himself out of his chair and went off to the bedroom.
Reno waited until he’d closed the door, and then stood in front of it like the guards outside. “I’m sorry, rookie,” he said quietly. “He’s not usually this bad.”
“I-it’s n-not your fault, s-sir.”
“I know…but I should’ve said something. I swear, rookie, if he were anyone other than the President, I’d break his neck for you.”
“If he were anyone other than the President, I’d break his neck myself!” I answered hotly, without thinking. I realized what I’d said a moment later and clapped a hand over my mouth. “I didn’t mean that, sir,” I whispered, shocked at myself.
Reno laughed. “Don’t worry about it, rookie. It’s an all too common sentiment.”
“Do the public know what an…an…” I couldn’t bring myself to complete the sentence. I’d already vocalized an open desire to do bodily harm to the President; I didn’t need to make things worse.
“Asshole? Asswipe?” Reno suggested, and then shrugged. “I dunno. Probably.”
“Why doesn’t someone say something?”
“Sheer terror, rookie. What’re you gonna say about the most powerful man in the world? Shinra’s a nasty old man who’ll crush anyone he doesn’t like. Don’t worry about it, rookie. It’s the job. Just try and remember that you can kill him. You’re not supposed to, mind, but you’re perfectly capable of it.”
“I’ll try my best, sir,” I promised dutifully, smiling a little.
Reno grinned. “I know you will, rookie. You’ll do fine.”
“Giving blondie a pep talk, Turk?” The President came out of his room at that moment, throwing the heavy oak door open and almost knocking Reno over. He’d dressed himself in a crisp maroon suit with a bright yellow tie and shiny black shoes. It was one of those moments that make me feel glad I only wear black and don’t have to choose my wardrobe.
“In a manner of speaking, sir,” I answered crisply, looking straight at the President. I think I understood what Reno had said when he looked at me. He knew when he met my eyes that I could kill him and it was only who he was that prevented me.
It’s a very wonderful thing to make the most powerful man in the world cringe, even if it’s just a little.
“Veld sent you, did he?” the President growled, looking away from me. “Good thinking on his part.”
“We’ll be looking out for you from here, sir,” Reno informed the President smoothly, going over to the closet by the door and getting the President’s jacket. As he passed, he gave me a covert thumb up and winked.
“Hmph,” the President grunted, puffing away at his cigar.
I went over to the doorway to inform the guards we would be leaving soon, when the door flew open. I jumped back and drew one of my guns as Reno shoved the President into the closet and took out his nightstick.
The guards were both lying outside on the ground, dead or dying. In the doorway stood what I could only assume was an AVALANCHE member, in a bright red jumpsuit with goggles over his eyes. “Where is the President?” he demanded.
Reacting before I thought, I shot him once in the chest. He flinched and grunted, but I guess he must have been wearing a bulletproof vest because it didn’t kill him. Then he rushed at me and aimed a punch at my head.
I ducked and felt the rush of air as he missed, rolling away to the side before he could recover. I fired at his legs (because no one makes bulletproof pants) and blew out his knee. He collapsed to the ground and I shot him again in the back of the neck.
“Nice going, rookie,” Reno approved, still holding the closet door closed. “Sorry, I couldn’t have been of more help, but…”
The President heaved the closet door open with a roar and started yelling at Reno. “What the hell was that, Turk? No one lays hands on my person, least of all to stuff me in some damned closet! I might’ve suffocated, d’you realize that?”
“Sir!” I interrupted, pointing at the AVALANCHE assassin.
“Don’t you interrupt me…” the President began, whirling on me, but stopping dead when he saw the AVALANCHE operative. “Who’s that?”
Reno crouched down and turned the man’s body over. “AVALANCHE, sir. An assassin.”
“One of the renegades from Midgar? How dare they…”
The TV on the wall suddenly flickered and the channel changed. Commander Veld appeared on the screen. “Mr. President, sir! Are you all right?”
“Oh, it’s you, Veld.” The President went over to the TV screen and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m just fine.”
Veld cleared his throat. “Sir, in the interests of security, I really must suggest that you cancel your tour of Junon and return to Midgar where it’s safe. If you proceed, you only make yourself an easier target.”
The President’s face turned purple and his mustache quivered. “No! We will proceed as planned! We must not let the people think we are afraid of a bunch of…of sniveling miscreants!”
Veld sighed. “I was afraid you would say that, Mr. President. Tseng, patch through the security camera footage throughout the hotel.”
I heard the rapid clatter of typing and then the image on the screen changed. I felt my stomach twist as I saw AVALANCHE members stalking through the hotel. They were moving through the corridors, taking down the guards easily.
“Shit…” Reno muttered. “What the hell is this?”
Veld came back on the screen. “As you can see, several of their number has already infiltrated the building. This is the reality of the situation. Do you understand, Mr. President?”
The President ground his cigar between his teeth. “I ‘understand’ that you aren’t doing your job, Veld. Fix it!”
“I’ll do my best, sir. Within minutes I can have a helicopter from the Junon airport flying out to transport you back to Midgar…”
“No!” the President shouted, stomping his foot like a child. “We will proceed as planned!”
“Very well, sir. I’ll send additional reinforcements from the Junon military.”
The President grunted. “Not too many. You’ll ruin the parade.”
I heard a whirring and a camera above the TV swiveled to face me. “Rosalind, I want you to sweep the hotel and clear out whatever AVALANCHE members you can find. By our count, there are only five in the building.”
“Yes, sir,” I agreed, saluting.
The camera swiveled again. “Reno, you stay here and guard the President.”
“Of course, sir,” Reno agreed. “Rosalind won’t let anyone past.”
“I trust she won’t. Good luck, agents.” The TV screen flicked off and I turned to leave.
“Be quick about it, blondie,” the President called. “I’m already late. I have a lot of things to do today, you know.”
I nodded briefly. “Yes, sir. Be careful, sir.”
Leaving the President’s room, I headed right. At the end of a long corridor were two rooms. I drew my gun and entered the one on the left. I surprised an AVALANCHE member, who was rummaging through one of the drawers.
“A Turk!” he exclaimed, fumbling with his weapon. “Where’s the President? If you tell me, I’ll spare your life!”
I almost laughed. “Don’t even try that with me,” I answered coldly, and shot him in the stomach as he pointed his own gun at me.
I turned around and sure enough the commotion had drawn another man. A shot to the throat took him down too, and I stepped over his body and glanced down the corridor. It was clear, and I couldn’t imagine that AVALANCHE would’ve placed all of their operatives on one floor, so I headed down.
I met two of them coming up the stairs, both carrying long blades. “Get her! She’ll know where the President is!” the first one yelled, charging me. I took aim and fired at him, sending him tumbling back down the stairs into his partner. When both of them had crashed to the landing at the bottom, I fired once more for good measure, and reloaded.
“Four down, one to go,” I said out loud, quite pleased with myself. But the last one is always the hardest. I headed down the stairs and down the next hallway, peering in rooms as I went. All of them were empty and that did nothing but add to my unease.
I heard the stairs at the other end of the hallway creak. I whirled around to see one of the AVALANCHE assassins ascending to the top floor, where the President was. I swore and took off down the hallway. “Stop!” I yelled, in an attempt to distract him.
It worked, because he spun around and fired at me. He had terrible aim, though, and every shot he took went wide. I lifted my gun and fired once, hitting him between the eyes before he got to the stairs. I kept running down the hallway and sidestepped his body, taking the stairs to the top two at a time. I reached the top just in time to see the President vanishing into an elevator. “Sir!” I yelled after him, running down the hallway and crashing headlong into Reno, who’d just run out of the President’s room.
“Rookie!” He was on his feet before I was and pulled me up. “You okay, rookie?”
“I’m all right, sir. Where’d the President go?” I asked.
Reno paled slightly and looked around. “H-he’s not out here? That bastard. He sent me back in to get his wallet from the bedroom. I told him to wait for me.” Reno tugged at his ponytail agitatedly. “I’m gonna get in so much shit for this…”
“He took the elevator, sir. The hotel is clear, so he should be all right,” I offered reassuringly.
“Yeah, yeah…c’mon, we gotta take the stairs.”
Reno took off at a sprint. I’ve mentioned before how fast he runs and once again I was hard pressed to keep up with him. I had to slow down slightly on the stairs, to make sure I didn’t trip and fall, but Reno was already a full flight ahead of me and taking full advantage of gravity in his descent. I was almost sure he was going to fall, but he never missed a step. I didn’t catch up with him until he stopped in front of the elevators in the lobby, one hand against the wall to steady himself and breathing hard.
“I hate stairs, rookie,” he informed me. “Too many steps.”
I nodded, winded, and glanced up at the lights above the elevator, indicating the President’s progress downward. “He’s still only on the second floor, sir.”
Reno stood up straight and pushed the pair of sunglasses he wears perched on top of his head back a little bit. “Oh, good. Well, straighten up, rookie; try not to look like you just fell down a flight of stairs.”
I obeyed and tugged on the sleeves of my suit to straighten them a little. “This hasn’t been too bad so far, sir,” I offered optimistically.
Reno snorted indignantly. “Just you wait, rookie. We’ve barely been here an hour.”
“Whatever you say, sir,” I sighed as the elevator door opened. The President stepped out and brushed by the both of us.
“Turk, Blondie, let’s go. I’m sick of waiting,” President Shinra said crisply, swinging a cane he’d acquired somewhere.
“Yes, sir,” Reno answered obediently.
I ran ahead to secure the entrance to the hotel, holding the door for the President. I stepped out behind him and Reno brought up the rear. I blinked in the light of the sun when we got outside and stared around the street. A contingent of four guards was standing near the hotel entrance, but other than that, the streets were deserted. “Where is everyone?”
“Waiting for me at the stadium,” the President said gruffly, motioning to the guards. “The conference is being broadcast from the Junon Branch office. I trust you gentlemen will help get me there safely.”
“Yes, sir!” the guards all answered simultaneously, throwing snappy salutes and clicking their heels.
Reno made a face behind the President’s back and mimicked the saluting guards. I stifled a laugh and glanced at the contingent. They all looked good, decked out in their military finest, but something seemed off.
A horrified feeling came over me when I realized that these were the President’s personal guard. They were trained, certainly, but mostly for show. I had been expecting Junon’s military personnel. I glanced at Reno and he mouthed the words “I told you so” at me.
“Very well! Let’s move out! Blondie, you take the lead. Turk, bring up the rear.”
Reluctantly, feeling very exposed with a large, loud man who might as well have painted a target on his back, a contingent of toy soldiers, and Reno (who was convinced we were all going to be the victims of his terrible luck) at my back, I led the way. I kept the President close to me. It slowed our progress slightly, but I wasn’t about to take any chances.
The first attack came about ten minutes into the journey, when a movement in the window of a building we were passing caught my eye.
“Remember this, Mr. President!” a voice called mockingly and I barely had time to shove the President forward to the ground and throw myself down as a small bomb plummeted earthward and blew up a sizeable portion of the street behind us. I sat up and opened fire on the window, but the man was gone.
I coughed as the dust started to settle and wiped the dirt from my eyes. “Mr. President, sir? Are you all right?” I called, crawling forward a bit.
“Y-yes…I’m f-fine, agent. But…the road…” President Shinra stammered.
I grimaced. The most powerful man in the world, upset by a little bomb. “We’ll be all right, sir.” Getting up, I looked down at the gap. The blast had blown out the surface road and left a huge gaping crater that exposed the tunnels below, at least four meters across. “Reno, sir?” I called hesitantly across the breach.
“Hey, rookie! You all right?” Reno called back, waving and coughing as the dust cleared.
“I’m fine, sir. So is the President,” I answered, relieved. Reno had been lagging at the back of our little party, menacing the two guards in front of him about not going fast enough. I had worried he might’ve been caught in the explosion, but he was fine. I glanced over my shoulder. “I have two of the guards over here, sir.”
“I think I’ve got the same…hey, idiots! Sound off!”
I heard a sullen one and two from the other side of the gap. “How are you going to get around, sir?” I called.
Reno didn’t answer immediately. “I think the bomber might’ve been Shears, rookie. I’m going after him. You stay with the President.”
I almost asked him if that was really such a good idea, but I stopped myself. “Understood, sir.”
“You’ll be fine, rookie.”
I forced a smile. “Good luck, sir.”
Reno grimaced and waved over his shoulder at his two guards. “Don’t try to be funny, rookie. I won’t be long.”
I watched him vanish into the alley next to the building Shears had attacked from and sighed. “All right, sir,” I said briskly, addressing the President. “We’d best move on.” I turned to the two guards. “Flank the President. I’ll scout ahead.”
Once again, we moved on. The streets were eerily silent, absolutely emptied of people. I found out later that pretty much the entire city attends the annual public address, which is broadcasted live to the stadium at the heart of the city. I didn’t know that then, however, and it made me anxious.
The next attack came from two masked AVALANCHE members, armed with knives. “There he is! Death to Shinra!” they shouted, rushing us.
“Do something!” the President shouted, scrambling back into a recessed doorway to try and get cover.
I took down one with a shot to the head, and the other fell in a burst of machine gun fire from one of the guards. I ushered the President back to a defensible position when he started to come out, then waited a few minutes to see if the gunfire had drawn any others. The streets remained empty and silent, however, so I slid my handgun back into its holster and gestured to the President. “All right, sir.”
The President appeared to be trying to preserve some dignity, so he growled at me. “Next time, blondie, take them down faster!”
I kept my features expressionless. “Yes, sir,” I answered shortly. “Let’s move on.”
We continued. My knowledge of Junon’s streets came in handy as we navigated through the maze of alleys and side streets that would get us to the Junon branch office the quickest.
The second ground attack came from behind. The two assassins burst out of a building behind us, waving blades and shouting more AVALANCHE slogans.
“Hold them!” I barked at the guards, planting my hands on the President’s shoulders and propelling him over to an alcove in front of one of the buildings. “Stay there,” I said sternly, before running over to take charge of the fight.
The guards were firing ineffectually with their handguns (I would almost swear they’d never been trained), not hitting anything, but forcing the AVALANCHE members to take cover. “Quit wasting ammo!” I snapped, irritated at the waste. I’m sorry, but the firing of useless rounds is one of my pet peeves. If you’re going to shoot, shoot to hit. Which is exactly what I did, taking each assassin out with a single shot.
“There he is! Get him!”
“Death to Shinra!”
More shouts echoed from down the street and I whirled around to see to men running at the President, who, naturally, had strayed out from the safe place I’d stuck him, from the opposite direction.
“Over here! They’re over here!” the President screamed, his voice taking on a shockingly high-pitched note. Almost amusing, coming from the most powerful man in the world.
Cursing again, I sprinted over to the President and stood in front of him, opening fire on the two AVALANCHE members. They were down immediately, but apparently that wasn’t fast enough for the President.
“You blundering idiot!” he roared at me, once the threat was eliminated. “Have you any idea how close I came to being killed? Do your job right, Turk, or you’ll find yourself without it! So far, the only thing you’ve got going for you is a tight little ass. Now, let’s move on! We’ve lost precious time. Guards, let’s go.”
I stood there for a moment, kind of shocked. Then something came over me and I lost my grip on my objectivity. “Now, wait one minute!” I shouted, starting to get angry. “There is only one reason you aren’t dead right now, sir, and that reason is me. As long as you’re still living, I am doing my job right. Do you want to try shooting down the terrorists, sir? Or what about managing a pair of incompetent stage guards who wouldn’t know the tactical way to deal with this situation if it bit them on the ass? Or how about dealing with the pompous, arrogant, lecherous old coward who can’t seem to understand that he’s in the middle of a war zone? Now, unless you want me to decide I’m getting sick of this abuse and that desertion is the lesser of two evils, I suggest you lay off the insults! Sorry, sir!” I finished shortly, fuming on the outside, but having a small nervous breakdown internally. I’d just blown up at the company President. I was going to be fired for sure.
The President stared at me, slack-jawed, for a few moments, before storming off down the street, guards trotting along behind him.
I pressed my hands against my cheeks, which had flamed hot and red while I was yelling, and took a deep breath. I was sure I would be fired for it, but it had certainly felt good.
The sharp report of a gunshot reasserted the current situation and I looked up to see one of the guards collapse to the street. “Sniper!” I yelled, sprinting to catch up to the President and joining him inside the building where he had taken cover with the remaining guard.
“Damn it!” the President swore, covering his head with his hands. “You! Take care of that worthless insect! I won’t feel safe until he’s dead! We’ll deal with your insubordination later.”
I gritted my teeth. “Yes, sir. Be careful, sir.” I ducked out of the building and pressed my body against the wall. The silence from above told me that the sniper hadn’t seen me. I crept along the side of the building and into a narrow alleyway beside it. I spotted a fire escape ladder and scaled it quickly and silently. Once at the top I climbed over the low wall around the edge of the roof and dropped into a crouch. I spotted the sniper immediately, on the roof of the next building over, lying on his stomach with a rifle in hand. I snorted. He’d missed his first shot, so he couldn’t be all that good.
Getting down on my stomach, I crept over to the side of the roof, braced myself, then stood up and jumped the gap between the buildings. The sniper saw me before I had my weapon drawn, but it’s easier to aim a handgun than it is to aim a long rifle, so I made short work of him.
Then I heard a yell from the President below. “No! Get away from me!”
I swore and ran to the edge of the roof, looking down to see four AVALANCHE terrorists with more swords menacing the President’s guard. I took aim and shot one in the head. The President had taken off running, leaving his guard to follow the best he could. The terrorists took off after them and I cursed again.
Glancing out over the expanse of flat roofs before me, I took off at a flat out run, leaping the gaps without even thinking and easily getting ahead of the President, running along the road. I skidded to a halt on one roof and scrambled down the fire escape, darting out and joining President Shinra.
“The guard’s been killed,” he panted as I ushered him over to the alley I’d come from.
I nodded. “Wait here, sir. I’ll take care of them at once.” I stepped out of the alley, gun drawn, and let the AVALANCHE terrorists get close enough for clear shots. I fired three times, and each of them dropped to the ground, dead.
A few minutes later, when I was sure the street was clear, I beckoned to the President. “All clear, sir.”
“Thank you, agent. Let’s move on.”
I nodded warily. I was surprised that he’d thanked me. I was even more surprised that he hadn’t called me “blondie” Glancing up at a street sign, I got my bearings. “We’re almost there, sir. The Branch Office isn’t more than a block away,” I reported.
The President nodded a little wearily. For the first time, I felt a twinge of pity for the old man. He was a bad-tempered, arrogant lech, but he was also getting on in years. “It’s not much farther at all. I’m very excited to hear your speech, sir.”
“Don’t humor me, blondie,” the President snarled. “And don’t pity me either.”
I fell silent. An order’s an order. We walked the rest of the way up the street in silence. I squinted ahead to the Junon office and saw guards stationed outside. Relieved, I ushered the President along.
“Hey, you!” I called to the guards. “Tell the people inside that the President is here!”
We continued up to the building as one of the guards scurried inside. The President pushed past me and ascended the stairs, two of the guards moving quickly to flank him. “They know I’m coming, blondie,” he said huffily. “I won’t require your services any further.”
I almost replied, but my PHS rang and interrupted me. “Hello?”
It was Veld. “Have you reached the branch office, Rosalind?”
“Yes, sir, I have,” I answered formally, still a little nervous about talking to the commander.
“Very good. But don’t drop your guard. Is Reno with you?”
“Ah…no, sir. He went off after one of the AVALANCHE assassins. He believed it to be one of the ringleaders. Shears.”
“Mmm. I knew he would, if he got the chance. Reno has never been one to let a thrashing lie quietly. It concerns me that he isn’t back yet, though. I’ll attempt to get in touch with him. For now, I leave you to the task of guarding the President.”
I hesitated. The President had told me he wouldn’t need me any more. “Uh…sir, he kind of dismissed me.”
Veld chuckled. “That is the one order from the President that you must never take. Only I have the authority to remove you from an assignment. The President knows this; it’s his rule. He just ignores it and tries to dismiss you anyway.”
“So…what do I do, sir?”
“Scout the perimeter. Stay close, but don’t crowd him. He’s feeling babied and he doesn’t like it.”
“Oh. All right, sir,” I answered, then paused. “Will…will this show up on my record, sir?”
Veld laughed again. “No. Don’t worry about it, Rosalind. President Shinra has fired me on six separate occasions. After the first three, I stopped packing up my office because he always came crawling back. He needs us, agent, and he knows it.”
That made me feel better. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.” I snapped my PHS shut and strode into the office building purposefully. The President was waiting in the lobby, examining a painting of him high on the far wall. I came in and sat down on a couch as far opposite him as I could get. I found it odd that no one had come to get him yet, but I shrugged the feeling off.
Two guards arrived in the room. “This way, sir,” one of them asked gruffly.
“Hmm,” The President acknowledged distractedly, following the guards.
I got up and followed after him, walking quickly to keep up with the guards, who were hustling the President along, weapons in hand. I found this odd, but I guess they’d been alerted to the AVALANCHE threat and weren’t about to take any chances.
One of the guards held open the door to the conference room and ushered the President inside, while the other stood outside and turned to face me. “Your…uh…your boss wants you to go keep watch outside.”
I blinked. “O-oh…all right. I understand.”
I turned to leave and went slowly back down the corridor. Why hadn’t Commander Veld called to tell me this? I sighed to myself. Perhaps the President had called him and told him about my insubordination. So I’d gained a rank in a day, but I was probably going to drop right back to sixth class again.
Angry with myself, I kicked at the edge of the carpet and heard a loud thunking noise. But it hadn’t come from at my feet; it had come from behind the front desk. Curious, I drew my weapon and peered around. Two men were lying behind the desk, bound and gagged, and stripped to their undergarments.
I knelt down next to the first man and tugged the gag out of his mouth. “Who did this to you?” I demanded.
“A-AVALANCHE…” the guard stammered. “The President…”
“Oh, no…” I jumped up and ran down the hallway to the pressroom.
I touched the handle, softly, the way I’d been trained, to see if it was locked and not alert anyone inside. It was locked, as I expected, so I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and focused on my target like my instructor taught me. Even a solid mahogany door goes down pretty fast with a kick to its sweet spot from a steel-toed combat boot.
“Mr. President!” I yelled as I burst into the room, hoping to distract whoever was inside and praying that the president was still alive.
Three AVALANCHE members, all in the same red jumpsuits as the first assassin, all carrying knives. They had backed the President into a corner and I knew I had to get them away from him before I could shoot.
“Get them!” President Shinra ordered, looking (I thought) relieved to see me.
“Back off, Turk…” one of the assassins threatened, coming forward, his knife weaving back and forth in front of him. It was all the chance I needed. I fired once and hit him in the head. The other two flinched slightly, but held their ground.
I circled around, putting myself between the assassins and the President. It’s interesting how two different people will react in the same situation. I faced two men, both of the same organization, both with the same motives, both with knives and facing me, a trained bodyguard. So what do they do? One jumps me, one runs.
Naturally, I took down the one that jumped me. I turned to get the other, took up my stance, lifted my gun to take aim, and…it jammed. I froze up. I’d never had a weapon jam on me before. I knew it could happen, of course, and I took ever step necessary to prevent it, but it still jammed.
The last assassin turned around, likely wondering why I hadn’t shot him. I didn’t understand what made him turn around then; he’d gotten all the way to the doorway and was halfway out, but something made him stop. He knew my gun had jammed when he saw me, and he smiled, slow and cruel.
There was a sudden crackling noise and his face suddenly contorted in pain and surprise. He stood for a few milliseconds, swaying, and then toppled forward to the ground, revealing Reno in the doorway, nightstick in hand.
“Hello, rookie. Sorry I’m late.” The way he spoke, he might’ve been referring to a dentist appointment. “Got held up in the hallways, though. Man, what has gotten into these Junon guards? Tried to goddamn kill me.”
He pulled off an innocent expression so well I wasn’t entirely sure he was kidding. I quickly remedied the jam in my gun, expelling the shell casing that had caused it to malfunction. “I’m very thankful you got here when you did, sir. I don’t think I could take a man with a knife.”
“Well, it’s possible, but certainly not something pleasant. And I have the scars to prove it,” Reno remarked wryly, glancing over at the President, who was shuffling through his notes on a podium at the other end of the conference room. “Mr. President, sir! Are you all right?” he called.
“Shut up, Turk! You’ve made me lose my place,” the President growled irritably, shuffling his cue cards again. “Take blondie and go find the camera crew.”
“The camera crew?” Reno glanced around the room, looking surprised. “The camera crew’s not here!”
“Where do you think they are, sir? AVALANCHE didn’t…they wouldn’t have…” I trailed off. I couldn’t imagine that the terrorists would have slaughtered an innocent film crew, but then, they had intended to destroy an entire sector. I walked over to the doorway, where the still-living assassin was lying; covertly reaching for the knife he’d carried. I kicked it away from him and crouched down. “Where is the film crew?”
He glared at me and didn’t say anything. I reached for my handgun, holstered at my side and drummed my fingertips against it. “I’ll ask you again, where’s the film crew?” I demanded.
“Rookie?” Reno interrupted smoothly, coming over and tapping my shoulder. He’d been watching appraisingly for a few moments, but came over to politely intercede. “Much as I would love to watch you cut your teeth on working this guy over…and believe me, I would love it…in the interests of time, though, perhaps I’d better do it.”
“Of course, sir.” I stepped aside. I wasn’t really sure what I’d been planning to do anyway.
Reno took my place next to the assassin. “I’m legally required to ask you the question once and give you an opportunity to answer before I do anything,” he informed him cordially. “So where’s the film crew?”
“I’ll never tell you, Shinra,” the terrorist hissed, then spat at Reno, who didn’t take offense at the glob of saliva that landed on his sleeve. He laughed, actually.
“All right, AVALANCHE. Can’t say I didn’t give you your fair chance.” Reno’s hand shot out and grabbed the assassin’s wrist. He grasped the man’s thumb firmly and gave it a sharp tug.
It happened so quickly I almost didn’t realize why the man was rolling around on the ground, screaming, seconds later. “I won’t tell! I won’t tell!” he shrieked, writhing.
Reno watched all this calmly, not reacting. “Listen. You have nine more fingers, ten more toes, and after that…well, I’m a resourceful and creative person. Why don’t you just make this easy on yourself? This is a big building. I can send my subordinate to find the film crew, while I stay here and try and get the information out of you. Which is going to take longer? Plus, when the film crew gets here, we can have them record a few minutes of this. We’ll send a copy to your family.”
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