Visitor
The lock was broken. It didn't need to be, but Turks were fond of melodrama. Reeve hesitated an instant, and then walked into his office.
"Tseng, right?"
The Turk was leaning against the wall, reading paperwork. The WRO commissioner took his seat.
"You know, if President Shinra wants to see me, he can just make an appointment." The silent alarm set in the desk had been deactivated. Turks were nothing if not thorough. Yet not infallible.
"A public accord would serve neither of us."
"True. So...you're here to ... what? Put a bag over my head and feed me to your Guard Hounds?" The Commissioner drew his shotgun and let it rest in his lap.
The Turk's face didn't waver. "No. I'm here as a representative of a certain interested party."
Reeve narrowed his eyes. "Go on."
"The W.R.O. is a well regarded organisation, but you don't have enough liquid assets to reach your full potential. My benefactor would like to remedy that."
"In exchange for...?"
"... Nothing. We simply share a common interest in restoring the world from its current condition."
"Ah. The Turks discover altruism. How cute. Very well, you may have my answer. How can I put this? How about... No."
Tseng blinked. "Think about what you are refusing here... who you are dealing with."
"Who am I dealing with? The Turks? Every enemy they've ever faced has defeated them with humiliating ease at least once, and sometimes on multiple occasions. Why, precisely, should I be afraid of you? "
"Where, precisely, do you think Cait Sith is right now? He's downstairs, alerting the entire garrison that I have a visitor. No dissembling, Tseng, I will not play with you. He'll tug on old loyalties, plant rumours, gradually restore his name in the public eye. However, consider my counteroffer. Go to your benefactor and tell him this: If he does not supply me with a great deal of cold hard cash,I will hold a press release. In which I will state that Rufus Shinra funded AVALANCHE for years while Vice–President of the company."
Tseng took a step back. "You'll never be able to prove that."
The W.R.O. Commissioner shrugged. "Proof? You think the ex-Shinra soldiers who lost friends to AVALANCHE will wait for proof? Family? Limbs? How many Turks are there? Ten? Twelve? And they're not at their best in direct confrontations. You won't last long."
"I'll ... need to report."
"You do that. But tell your employer this. I'll take his money, no strings attached. I might even throw him a bone now and again, mention my mysterious benefactor, whatever. But if I find a hidden caveat, if he tries to play games with me just once, I'll go through him like Genesis through a first edition copy of LOVELESS. You understand me?"
"...Yes."
"Good." Footsteps were heard outside. "Now, I can't encourage people to break into my office, I'm sure you understand." As the door burst open, Reeve Tuesti snapped his shotgun to his temple
"Tell me...do you have a least favourite toe?"