The Final Say

Rufus entered the circular room at the top floor of Shinra headquarters with smug satisfaction. He was dressed in a black turtleneck, covered a white 3 piece suit. His inner suit went all the way to above his ankles, split in the middle, with buttons all the way up to his coat, which was flapped loosely like his inner suit, held together at his chest only by the topmost button. His too-long pants were neatly rolled up 2 inches – courtesy of the inexperienced new Turk Elena - showing his brown golashes. He wore fingerless half gloves, and his hair was neatly jelled to the side. His blue eyes held a piercing look and his brows were intensely furrowed, as if pondering something. He was oozing style, and he was loving every minute of it.

Rufus pressed a button on the desk and called for his Turks, who turned up within minutes of each other, dressed in dark blue suits over a white shirt, paired with a dark tie. Rufus looked with irritation at Reno – his shirt was open at the chest, and his tie was missing – not to mention his glasses were pushed way up to his wiry red hair, like a hairband, but chose not to comment.

It wouldn't do to start off on the wrong leg. It would be quite Rude in fact. His eyes wandered to the bald dark-skinned agent who stood at alert attention, a hand in his pockets, towering over everyone else. It wouldn't do to be rude. Heavens no!

Tseng, the long-haired Japanese martial artist, had his hands behind his back, proudly wearing the bindi birthmark on his forehead – like a boy scout Rufus thought scornfully, but was careful not to let any emotion slip past his iron mask. They were Turks after all. The elite of the elite, they frowned on any show of weakness.

And Elena. Yes Elena, the only other blond like him. So inexperienced, so clumsy when compared to the others. The only female too in the group. Rufus briefly wondered if Elena felt insecure of herself around the others – she wore pumps as if to give herself added height. Rufus was sure the other Turks gave her hell behind his back simply for being a girl. Just as well. He wouldn't mind a lonely employee running to him for comfort.

"Well." He fingered the double-barrelled shotgun on his table, wishing he could blast the freaky Hojo. "Hojo says he's going to create a virus which will kill the world in 100 days. I stopped his funding for that project, because who's gona pay Shinra taxes if he succeeds? But I have a sneaky suspicion he'll go ahead with it anyway. Reno, you go hang around his lab and make sure he doesn't get up to any hanky-panky." Reno shrugged.

"Heidigger's the new Head of Public Maintenance and Order Division. We do go through them fast don't we? Anyway, he's got the Green light for his fat robot breastplate. I swear that pudgy stooge's making an oversized metallic clone of himself sometimes."

"Scarlet of Weapons doing fine. Double her funding for the Juno Sister Ray Project. That stuck-up bitch. Would love to fire her but she knows her stuff" He grudgingly admits, as high a praise from the young President as anyone could get.

"Kill Professor Gast. Krrrch! Got me? We don't need two Professors who know about the Nibelhem Jehova Experiments" He drew a finger across his throat, indicating that Rude was to perform this task. Rude inclined his head slightly, acknowledging his task.

"Tseng, I need you to guard Rocket Town. Palmer's fiddling with the finishing touches for his 'Space-rocket' project to blast the Bahamut Zero Giant Materia safely into outer space where no one get their grubby hands on it until Shinra is ready to retrieve it. I have this feeling that our Sector 5 spiky haired friends will make a pass at it soon." Tseng nodded affirmatively.

"Elena. You keep an eye on Fat-Cat Revee. I don't trust him. Say I've assigned you as bodyguard to him. That should be easy enough even for you. Don't botch up this time."

The young female colored slightly and inclined her head.

He dismissed them with a hand and crossed his legs on the table, then his arms behind his head as he leaned back in his comfy chair, tempted to swivel around and survey all that he ruled in through the glass panel behind him – but he would have plenty of time for that later… Upper Midgar was his playground, and the bitter Mayor Domino was his puppet – Dom had about as much power as your average librarian, and Rufus knew he was bitter about the fact, but was helpless to do anything about it.

Don Cornello, the outlandish, garish Pimp who ran every aspect of the Wall Market prostitution ring with too reported to him. Shinra controlled every aspect of Midgarian's lives, and then some, even if they didn't know it. He allowed himself a small smile and he pressed the button which would allow him to eavesdrop on the conversation of the Turks in the lift…

Godo Kisaragi was a sell-out, pushover old fool. Wutai was the only force which could have stood against Shinra, but all he cared about was stupidly forging his Pagoda challenge, which no one had tried in ages anyway – it was such an outdated tradition. All the better for him then. He was worried about how much troops he would have had to expend should a full-scale invasion of Wutai be warranted. Now he could focus his resources on consolidating.

Soon he would expand his influence over even the neutral astrologists at Cosmo Canyon. Then the world would be truly his.

"Rufus Shinra… greedy, handsome young man... clearly VP only because his father is president… does appear to have some intelligence… however, as he has plans for Shinra… that would go in a different direction than his father… a large, dangerous-looking black cat… President Shinra… fat, shallow man… only cares about his own comfort and profits… has a son… not appear to be married… or interested in being a father… weak, strong army of SOLDIER, Turks… handful of well-paid department personnel… carry out... will..."

He smirked as he snapped off the transceiver. The Turks were loyal enough. Let them bitch as they liked. As long as they did what he wanted, never mind what they said. Midgar was his, and so was the World. He savoured this heady feeling of absolute power… all while pondering how to milk the Lifestream

Some rouge terrorist cocky, beer guzzlin', down-dressed hell raiser group wasn't going to stop his ambitions. He had the Ultimate soldier, the Ultimate team, and the Ultimate weapons on his side. No chocobo-haired boy and his big-boobed sidekick was going to stop him…