Chapter 3: No Complications
He understood having the extra pair of eyes on him... but he didn't like it. Much as Tseng was still a rookie, up until now he'd largely proven himself as a competent and well qualified member of the Turks. He'd excelled, and the rumors some liked to circulate about him soon rising in the ranks weren't unfounded. To have a partner assigned to him for this mission... a partner assigned to supervise and call the shots, rankled. It felt like a giant step backwards for the rookie, as if one failed mission had dropped him right back to the bottom of the ladder. His ambitions rebelled against such a fate, but there was nothing to be done about it in all honesty.
Intellectually, Tseng couldn't fault Veld for this. Based on the... well, call it 'lingering confusion'... from his injuries and failed mission, it was difficult to send Tseng right back into the field. Difficult, yet still necessary. Turks weren't in large supply, and the unfinished business with this minor terrorist cell could not be ignored. He'd yet to have his follow up appointments, but Tseng was hoping that they would prove to be unnecessary. As it was he'd woken this morning feeling much better, his mind much sharper. He was cautiously hopeful that whatever the... 'visions' were... that they were done. Gone. Well, no reason to devote too much attention to that now. The medical appointment was tomorrow, the psychological one the day after. He'd know more then.
With the precision of routine, Tseng made another check of his sidearm, body shifting slightly as the helicopter prepared to descend. He was grateful, in a way, that he was being given the opportunity to clean up after his mistake. They'd gathered more intel on the movements of the group that'd sent him to the infirmary, and it was time to catch a few of them, bring them in for some questioning. They were small, hardly a threat at present, but what better time to cut off danger? Cut it now, before it could grow into something the public eye would notice. Public image was very important to ShinRa, and it simply wouldn't do to allow a group to publicly go against the company. The war with Wutai was strain enough, dissent against ShinRa in Midgar itself would definitely hurt troop moral and recruitment.
'At least there is Sephiroth...' Tseng's lips almost twisted at the thought. The man was certainly inspiring quite a bit of hero worship, and those flocking to become SOLDIERs increased by the day. The Turk frowned, a phantom of pain constricting his chest, a tiny needle to his head. He shook it away, his frustration mounting. His cautious hope that his 'condition' had cleared with bed rest may have been in vain. He began to squint his eyes, dreading and, yes, half fearing he was about to see another of those nonsensical visions of suffering.
"Alright kid?" His partner's voice through his earpiece snapped his eyes open, and Tseng looked up quickly. 'Brass' was watching him from his seat across, his signature weapon dangling from his fingertips rather than worn on his knuckles at the moment. Tseng pursed his lips for a moment, annoyed at being called 'kid', yet more so that he'd been acting strangely enough for others to notice. He knew well enough how observant Turks were supposed to be at all times, and that Brass was here specifically to watch him. He needed to do better than this.
He gave a nod of the head in lieu of a verbal answer, noting they'd be landing shortly. It would be a bit of ground travel after that to get to the base they were targeting, a helicopter obviously not the most subtle of vehicles. In all likelihood they wouldn't be completing their mission until the sun would be close to rising. Dirty work was best done in the dark and all.
Brass shifted in his seat, adjusting his harness as the copter touched down. Buckles were undone by both men, the Turks disembarking with practiced silence, making their way to a waiting car. It was inconspicuous, seemingly run down yet fitted with an engine powerful enough to speed them away if things went sour. After tossing a scruffy jacket over his suit coat, Brass got behind the wheel, Tseng donning a similarly threadbare overcoat and riding shotgun. The patchwork filth of the Slums surrounded them as they drove, progress slow thanks to the congested debris and vagabonds that clogged the shoddy streets. A few beggars and would-be thieves looked in the window, but the Turks paid them no mind.
With the coats over their uniform suits, they weren't likely to be immediately recognized. Turks, as a general rule, didn't often hide who they were. Wearing the suit was a point of pride, a trademark of who they were. It inspired a certain reaction in their targets. This mission though... well... this group had already dealt with a Turk... and supposedly bested him. They'd be watching for retaliation or another visit from their organization. No reason to grant them advanced warning.
It was a long car ride ahead of them, the helicopter having left them two sectors away from the one they were heading for. Overly cautious, perhaps, but ShinRa helicopters didn't just fly down from the plate for pleasure trips. Anyone watching the skies... not that most Slums residents would want to look up at the Plate, would no doubt wonder what the company was up to now.
"You remember mission objective, and your role?" Brass' voice broke into Tseng's thoughts, and the younger man grit his teeth for a moment. Ludicrous that the other Turk would even think he had to ask. Insulting really. Lashing out... letting emotions rule... Tseng was still training himself to prevent such things. It took him a moment longer than he wanted to be able to respond calmly.
"Yes. Once we reach the target site I'll infiltrate and secure the building adjacent to the group's base. Once the building is secure, I'll set up and cover the back exit of the base from a second story window. I'll give you the signal once in place, then wait to provide support while you secure targets for questioning back at headquarters." Brass nodded his head, satisfied that at least Tseng remembered what he was supposed to be doing. The rookie Turk looked out the window, a mild frown marring his brow.
"How's your wound? Not bleeding is it?" Brass' voice was casual when he asked, but too much so. Tseng shot him a sharp look.
"Bleeding? No. I wasn't stabbed." His voice was blunt, his answer cold yet hopefully not petulantly so. His partner looked at him briefly before turning his eyes back to the road.
"Good. Remember that. I don't want the person watching my back having a breakdown." Brass' words were delivered dryly, and the rookie felt his pride sting just a bit. Was that what the other Turks believed was happening to him?
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Crouched by the window, Tseng kept his eyes trained towards the base door. So far, everything was going smoothly. He'd gotten into the building without drawing any attention, and he'd been able to silently take down the few sentries he'd found patrolling inside. It was a relief not to have to draw his gun, silenced or not. The sentries were currently tied up in the room behind him, unconscious still but alive. If Brass failed to apprehend his target, they wouldn't be returning to ShinRa empty handed. It'd be more useful, of course, to have someone higher up than a mere guard to question.
The muffled sound of gunfire from the base gave Tseng only a couple of moments warning before the door he was watching burst open. Two men rushed out, one with a significant limp, the other stumbling as he attempted to run and shoot behind him. Slum dwellers who'd been loitering in the alleyways nearby turned and fled or watched with dull eyes. Violence of this sort was nothing new to the lower inhabitants of Midgar. Tseng spared one more glance towards the door, wondering where Brass was and why he hadn't given any warning or request for aid over their communicators. He'd figure that out as soon as he could, but for now he needed to stop their targets from getting away.
It wasn't a sniper's rifle, but Tseng aimed through a cracked hole in the window, sighting for the gunman's leg. His first shot grazed the man's thigh, his second shattered his knee. The man went down in a mass of agony, the limping target scrambling for the cover of a nearby dumpster. Tseng's lips drew into a thin line, knowing full well he'd lost any clear line of sight on the man from this room.
"I've got it, hold your position," came Brass' voice through his earpiece just moments before the man himself rushed out of the base door. He moved on the downed gunner first, making sure to disarm him, before he dragged the other man from the dumpster, taking him down with precision. Tseng noted his partner looked rather disheveled, a couple of rips in his suit indicating a struggle. Why hadn't he requested backup? "All clear, leave the sentries you found where they are, and help me get these two in the car."
"Understood," Tseng uttered into his mic, keeping his gun unholstered and ready until he was at his fellow Turk's side. Brass had already bound the two men, grunting as he lifted the one he'd knocked unconscious over his shoulder. The gunner was still conscious, though barely. Tseng wouldn't be able to carry the man over his shoulder like Brass could, but he could help the man limp the distance it would take to get to the car.
"I'd would advise cooperating," he said to the man in a tone that promised unpleasantries should the advice not be taken. Rebellion flashed in the other's eyes, and though it looked for a moment as though the man would do something foolish like spit at him... in the end the terrorist knew it was futile. He clearly wasn't ready to give his life for his cause, and chose instead to throw himself to whatever mercy ShinRa might offer. No doubt the pain in his leg was making it nearly impossible to think straight anyway.
As they walked their prisoners the short distance to their car, Brass gave him an appraising once over. "Looks like everything went off without a hitch," he offered casually. Tseng gave his partner an obvious once over in return.
"I'm not so sure about that..." he said. Brass shrugged... as well as one could with a man over his shoulder.
"When you get up close and personal with your target, rather than keeping your distance with a gun, you're bound to get a bit messy." Tseng said nothing, not wanting to get drawn into the mild debate that sometimes cropped up amongst the Turks. Were melee weapons truly appropriate in their line of work? Was a reliance on firearms shortsighted? Tseng, personally, preferred a more well rounded approach, but those like Brass were fairly set in their ways. They learned out of obligation... but were inflexible when in the field. Inflexibility was never a good trait for a Turk, so far as Tseng could see.
"Two of the new recruits coming up are melee oriented you know," Brass added once they were secure in the car and driving, their targets sedated and restrained in the back. They had discarded their shoddy coats, having no reason to disguise who they were now. The ShinRa suits would likely keep any Slum rats from molesting them on their ride back.
Tseng gave a thoughtful hum, brows drawing in just slightly as he tried to recall which two recruits Brass was referring to. It would be nice to no longer be the newest Turk, to have a bit of seniority.
"Veld's planning to bring them into active duty soon," the man continued, and Tseng arched his brows at this. Last he'd heard, the two were at least a few months away.
"Is that so?" The rookie asked, and Brass chuckled.
"Well, maybe after I report on how you did on this mission, he won't feel he needs to. Though, I'd rather he did. More melee in the ranks suits me just fine."
Tseng closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. So... Veld was that worried about his condition? Distressing as that was, he was a bit relieved after this mission. In and out, no problems. No phantom pains after the helicopter ride, no strange visions. Hopefully his reliability would no longer be in question.
End chapter note:
Brass isn't a BC Turk... obviously.
No, I didn't abandon this fic. I don't do that, regardless of popularity. Fall off the internet, now that I do sometimes. Disgusting habit for a fanfic writer, I know. I have working drafts of the next few chapters, so weekly updates should resume. Should.
