To Do the Job...

by Caleb

Reno struggles with some issues that he faces as a Turk. Some mild language and graphic description.

Author's note:  I really like the way this came out, but I still think it needs some work.  Please help me improve it.  Thank you.

"To Do the Job…"

           

"Reno."

            At the sound of the steely voice, my eyes lifted from the rough draft of the mission report I had been writing and locked onto the small speakerphone on the other side of the desk.

            "Huh?" I oh-so-intelligently grunted.

            "Are you busy, Reno?"

            "Why?"

            "We got a job."

            "Well, I was just typing up the report for that Costa Del Sol incident."

            "Costa Del Sol?"

            "Yeah," I leaned over to pick up Harut, my little yellow cat.  "A reporter from Shinra news was using some top secret weapon information he had to try to blackmail the company.  Heidegger ordered me to eliminate him.  Honestly, I don't see why; it was Scarlet's mess, and I say to let her clean her own spills."

            "I would agree, but Scarlet is so incompetent when it comes to anything but designing weapons.  I trust everything went well."

            "As well as a killing can go," I scratched Harut's chin.  "Tseng, what's happened to us?"

            "What do you mean?"

            "I remember a time when we didn't kill; we broke arms or threatened, but only if the threat was huge would we have to kill."

            "I remember a time when killing wasn't necessary for the survival of the company."

            "Is it right?"

            "It is our job."

            "But is it right?" I repeated, but there was no answer.  "Tseng, I want an answer!  Tseng!"

            I looked at Harut.  "What should I do, Harut?"

            Harut nuzzled my hand and purred.  "Yeah, old buddy, I wish it was that easy."

            After changing into my uniform, I strolled through the maze of corridors on the 38^th floor of Shinra Headquarters until I reached Heidegger's offices.  Expecting it to be awhile before I would get in, since Heidegger liked to exert power by making people wait, I began to sit down in the lobby.

            "Mr. Reno," Heidegger's pretty secretary said, "Mr. Heidegger will see you know.  The other Turks are waiting."

            The speed with which I got into Heidegger's office worried me.  The fact that he had no times for head games meant that this was an urgent mission, which also meant that it was probably extremely dangerous.  Oh joy.

            The first thing I noticed upon entering the office was that there was an extra person there.  She was attractive, blonde, and obviously excited to be there.  I remember wondering if they stapled her pants to her chair to keep her from bouncing with enthusiasm.  I nodded to Rude, who nodded back.  It's nice to have a business relationship that requires few words.  Tseng turned to me from where he was staring out one of the windows.

            "Ah, Reno.  I'm glad that you got here so quickly.  As you can probably tell, this is no…"

            "Who is she, Tseng?"

            "Don't interrupt me, Reno."

            "Give me some answers, Tseng."

            "Introductions can wait."

            Rude quietly rose to his full 6' 6" height.  "I want to know too, Tseng.  Why's she dressed as a Turk?"

            "Fine.  Reno, Rude, this is the newest member of the Turks, Elena."

            "I'm glad to meet you both," Elena bubbled at us.

            I looked at Tseng.  "Is she always this enthusiastic?"

            "Yes."

            "Hello, Elena.  I'm Reno.  Would you mind if I asked you a question or two?"

            "Shoot."

            "Ironic that you should choose that word.  Have you ever killed a person, Elena?  Have you ever watched their entire bodies shudder in pain as your bullets tear through their living flesh?  Have you ever heard the gurgles, moans, and screams that they make as you calmly walk away and leave them for dead?  I tell you, lady, you won't be so excited and bubbly after that!"

            "Reno!" Rude was yelling at me.  "Stop it Reno!"

            Right then I realized that I had been shouting, and that I had Elena pulled up almost out of her chair by her lapels.  "Sorry, Elena, everyone," I apologized lamely.

            Rude grabbed me by the shoulder and looked over his sunglasses at me.  "Are you okay, man?" he asked, his concern showing in his eyes.  "You had me worried there for a minute pal."

            "Yeah, I'm fine.  I've just been a little stressed lately."

            "Is that how you handle stress?" a baritone, ugly voice boomed out from behind the desk.  Heidegger.  I had forgotten about him.  Immediately, I felt bile in my throat at the site of that overgrown piece of congealed cruelty and hatred.  "How can you be a Turk and show your emotions like that?" the disgusting blob ranted.  "You are a disgrace, Reno.  All of you are a disgrace to Shinra, no to the world.  None of you deserve to live, yet President Shinra is giving you infinite possibilities to prove yourselves, and what do you do?  You crack under the slightest bit of pressure!  Oh, how you disgust me!"

            "I apologize, Mr. Heidegger.  It will not happen again."  Deep down, I burned with rage.  One day, you fat bastard, I thought.  One day, it's going to be just you, me, and my gun.  Then I'll show you the meaning of justified slaughter, not these lame excuses and empty propaganda that you spew forth to justify the actions you make me and my comrades take.  Cherish your living moments, Heidegger, because I will destroy you.

            "If it's the best you are capable of.  Fortunately, I am a generous man, and I will give you all an opportunity to prove yourselves.  As you know, Midgar has fallen victim to a terrorist group recently.  We have located their base in the Sector 7 slums.  Reno, you are to detonate the emergency measures on top of that pillar.  This will serve two purposes: it will destroy the terrorists, and it will lure the Ancient out of from wherever she disappeared after you botched up her capture, Reno.  Tseng will acquire the Ancient, and Rude and Elena will guard the Sector 7 entrances to ensure no one leaves that section of the slums.  Is everything clear?"

            "Why?" I asked.

            "What did you say?" Heidegger responded and narrowed his eyes.

            "This will kill everyone both on top of the Sector 7 plate and beneath it, as well as killing many people in adjoining sectors.  These deaths are far more than those caused by the reactor bombings.  So I'll ask again: Why?"

            Before Heidegger could reprimand me, Tseng stepped in smoothly.  "We have work to do, and must be leaving," he said as he turned to me.  "Stop by my office on the way to your rooms."

            "Yes, sir."

           

            I stormed into Tseng's office and slammed the door.  "What is it?" I demanded.

            Tseng just stared out his window.

            "What is it?" I repeated, but he just stared out that window and blinked.  "I don't have time for these games," I said, and began to leave.

            "I have not dismissed you yet," Tseng stated icily.  He turned around.  "Do you think this is a game, Reno?  Because if it is, it is certainly messed up.  First you start questioning everything that makes us what we are, then you attack, physically attack, one of us, and just now you had the gall to argue with Heidegger.  You are a Turk, Reno!  Begin acting like one!"

            "So I am to throw away all honor, all decency, for…"

            "State the first Sworn Duty of the Turks, Reno," he quietly commanded.

            "I will not throw away…"

            "STATE THE FIRST SWORN DUTY OF THE TURKS!" he yelled.

            "To do the job, no matter what the cost, no matter who is affected."

            "What does this mean?"

            "It means that we are to follow all orders from our employers, without question, and without emotion."

            "And you just broke that oath by questioning our orders and by giving in to your emotions.  Maybe you are too weak to be a Turk, Reno."

            "No!  The duty means that we are to carry out the order, not that we are to blindly do everything our immediate superior tells us to do.  If we blindly do everything exactly how it is ordered, then we are no better that a common foot soldier.  In fact, we are worse, because we are not allowed to have remorse!"

            "Wrong, Reno.  We can have remorse, but we cannot show it," I saw at that moment that Tseng, my mentor, my surrogate brother, was crying.  "Don't you see, Reno?  We're Turks.  We do the job.  How we carry out the job is up to us, but we must do the job.  In this case, our job is to kill everyone in and beneath Sector 7.  We are better than the foot soldiers because we always carry out our duties.  They can fail; we cannot."

            "I'm sorry, Tseng," I said, and meant it.  "I'll do the job."

            "Thank you, Reno.  You really are a true Turk."

            That night, as I stood on top of the pillar, facing the terrorists, I remembered everyone that would die, but I did not let that stop me.  As I plugged in the codes to destroy the support pillar, fourteen words played through my mind, over and over.

            "To do the job, no matter what the cost, no matter who is affected.  To do the job…"