Chapter 3

Slithering Cobra

Her father shot her a quizzical look as she scrambled back into the house and bolted into her room. Without a word, he followed her up the stairs and watched as she hastily began to pack.

"I had hoped you would stay for dinner," he finally said, entering the room. Leaning against the doorframe, he gave a disappointed sigh and shook his head.

Tifa looked up from her packing and gave her father a rueful smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't plan on this, but something's come up and–"

Her father raised a hand to silence her. Shaking his head, he replied calmly, "You don't have to explain yourself. You're a grown woman now. You made up your mind a long time ago. Nothing I could say or do will make you change it."

Tifa chuckled softly as she zipped her luggage closed. "I help make the world a better place, papa. It's just something I do," she admitted, hauling her luggage off the bed.

A hand clapped against her shoulder. Brown eyes soon met identical ones. "Take care, Tifa. It was good to see you even on such short notice."

Tifa smiled and gave her father's hand a quick squeeze before descending the stairs. "I'll be fine, papa," she answered, reaching the foot of the stairs. "After all, I am the best there is."

"Okay, so what've we got so far?"

Barret leaned against the table as he peered closely at the T.V. screen. Shinra Inc. was up to something. That he knew.

"Clean. Everything checked off, boss," came the reply.

Barret blinked for a moment and cleared his throat. "Clean?" he repeated doubtfully. There was no such thing as "clean" when it came to Shinra. Something definitely wasn't right.

The woman at the computer nodded and held up a sheet of paper before Barret's face. "Clear as crystal, boss. I tapped into their phone lines and everything. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as we're concerned," she assured the big man as she slid the sheet of paper across the table.

Barret scowled, a look of discontent rising to his face. Scratching his chin with his good hand, he remarked, "'Clean' always means somethin' fishy's goin' on. 'Clean' means your report ain't accurate."

"But–"

"Check again," the big man growled impatiently, ending the discussion before the woman could protest.

The woman glared angrily at him and stomped back to her seat at the computer. Irritably, she punched at each key she hit on the keyboard and grumbled to herself as an act of disapproval.

Barret ignored the woman's keyboard thumping and scratched his chin once again. God, he needed sleep. "Will anyone get me some goddamn aspirin?!" he roared impatiently, startling the workers around him. "What the hell are ya starin' at?! Get me my fuckin' aspirin and get back to work!"

Within seconds, new recruits scrambled out of the room in search of a bottle of aspirin. The boss in a bad mood was worse than 10 SOLDIERs combined. It was better to do what he pleased than defy him.

"Jesus, Barret. No need to get all upset," a new voice spoke up as a dull hum echoed into the room.

The leader of AVALANCHE glared moodily at the platform descending from the ceiling and narrowed his beady eyes. Tall, muscular, and sporting a new tan, Barret knew it was none other than Biggs, one of AVALANCHE's agents. Without saying a word, Barret raised his gun arm towards Biggs and opened fire.

The floor rattled loudly as bullets ricocheted onto its surface.

Biggs yelped and jumped back, avoiding the bullets just in time. "Shit! I was just kidding!" he screamed as Barret lowered his gun arm.

"The boss is in another one of his moods," a rather chubby looking man remarked, munching on a hotdog.

"The boss is just being a baby," the woman growled, still jamming her fingers against the keyboard. "He's just throwing another one of his tantrums." Making a face, she tore paper out of the printer and shoved the results into Barret's gun arm as he raised it towards her. "Clean! Just like I said they were. I think you owe me an apology!"

For a long moment, Barret said nothing as he glared at the woman. Grabbing the paper, he perused through it and sighed reluctantly. "Don't look so smug, Jessie," he growled, giving a nod.

Jessie smirked and moved back to her workstation, a triumphant look on her face. It was no wonder she was the second favorite in AVALANCHE.

Barret rubbed his gun arm eagerly as he took a deep breath. After chugging down a whole glass of water with several aspirin tablets in his hand, he turned to Wedge and asked, "Any word from Cobra?"

"Not since three hours ago," Wedge replied through a mouthful of food. He proceeded to take another large bite out of his hotdog and began to mumble a few incoherent words in the process. "Shmmshim…shid…"

Barret glared at Wedge silently, a vein throbbing in his head. It was bad enough that the chewing always irritated him, but Wedge always talked with his mouthful. But what could he do about it? Wedge was brilliant even with a half-macerated cow rolling in his wide-open trap.

With only a disapproving look to show Barret's frustration, he glanced at his watch and growled, "How much longer?"

Jessie elbowed Wedge against the rib, forcing him to swallow his food before giving a reply. "Well, it's about a three hour ride on the Highwind, boss," he said, dumping sauerkraut onto his food. "But from the looks of it, I think Cobra's a little bit upset with you. See, from the last call I got, Cobra mentioned taking a chocobo back to Midgar instead."

The vein in Barret's head pulsated and grew as he slammed his fist against the table. "WHAT?! That's going to take forever! Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?! I want Cobra here ASAP! I don't care what it takes! Just get Cobra here now!"

Wedge resisted the urge of giving the boss one of his snide comments. Now was not the time to get on the boss's nerves. Instead, he winced as Barret's voice echoed throughout the metallic walls. Clearing his throat, he added, "Well, I've already taken measures to send Cid to locate Cobra, so there's nothing else we can really do about it."

"Fine! Do whatever it takes! Just get Cobra over here!" Barret snarled, heading over to the platform Biggs had arrived from.

Biggs raised an eyebrow as he watched the platform ascend back up the ceiling. "Where you goin', boss?" he asked curiously.

"I got a meeting I gotta get to." And with that, he was gone.

Biggs turned to Jessie and Wedge and walked over to them. "Is it just me, or has the boss been acting weird lately?"

Cloud stretched his arms in the car seat, trying to fight the urge to doze off. Even with the cold air against his face and the bright rays of light peaking over the horizon, he still felt exhausted. "Yeah, so what's this meeting all about again?" he managed to ask after a large yawn escaped his lips.

"Who knows," Vincent replied driving through the cluttered streets of Midgar. "I'm just the chauffeur nowadays. I'm of no use to Shinra any longer."

A scowl crept onto the pallid SOLDIER's face as he gazed at his friend. There was no way in hell Shinra could simply discard Vincent Valentine. He had been the president's favorite Turk, and knew many more secrets and scandals in Shinra than any other employee in the corporation. Resigned or not, Vincent was a valuable asset to the corporation.

"Yeah right," Cloud grumbled, shaking his head. "Fat chance they'll ever think of getting rid of you. You're being modest again."

A grin edged at the corners of the former Turk's mouth, hinting that he was slightly amused. "Very well, then, if you insist on knowing…The president was very discreet about leaking any information to me, but from my sources, it's most likely about AVALANCHE."

The blond SOLDIER rolled his eyes, giving a reluctant groan. "Tch. It's always about AVALANCHE. What else is new?" he grumbled, sweeping his hair back away from his face. "Personally, I could care less."

"AVALANCHE is Shinra's biggest problem," Vincent pointed out calmly. Glancing up at the rear view mirror, a thoughtful look crossed his bloodshot crimson eyes. "I'm afraid Shinra hired you for your skill, not for your opinions. Besides, you seemed eager to go head to head with AVALANCHE before." He turned to glance at Cloud, his eyes unreadable. When Cloud did not reply, he added, "You were such a pesky child back then. Always so excited for action. Always trailing behind the Great Sephiroth's footsteps. I think I liked you better then."

"I got bored," Cloud replied coolly, staring outside the window, the scowl still planted firmly on his face.

"Find a hobby then," Vincent suggested bluntly. "I very much doubt the president will take that 'I'm bored' excuse seriously. You are, after all, the new Head of SOLDIER. You ought to stop avoiding all these issues with AVALANCHE."

Cloud continued to scowl as he finally turned to face Vincent. "It's the Turks' job to deal with AVALANCHE, not mine," he snapped frostily. "You of all people should know that."

Vincent nodded in agreement. "Touché," he said, turning the steering wheel. "My apologies. Old habits of mine slip up once in a while. It's difficult not having to report facts everyday. But to be honest, Cloud, you have changed."

Cloud's blue MAKO eyes gave off a dangerous glow. "I'm not the only one who's changed, you know," he remarked bitterly. "You seem to be all nosey lately. Ever since your–"

"Enough," Vincent interrupted, his deep voice growing quiet. "It was wrong of me to pry. I assure you, it will not be something I shall do again." And that was the end of the conversation.

Shinra Building had once been the most dominating piece of architecture ever to be made on the face of the Earth. Soaring at over 60 stories, it was a proud and frightening sight for the people of Midgar. It became the centerpiece of power, a place where Shinra held its most prestigious business transactions and most discreet operations. Shinra Building was Shinra Inc.'s pride, drawing envious longing from rival corporations. No man, scientist, or architect could match such a feat as the Shinra Building, for only its founding engineers and architects had the blueprints to its creation.

But in the days of turmoil and war, Shinra Building was no longer the pride of Midgar civilians. Instead, the building was mostly left in ruins, deserted by its many admirers. Now, only Shinra employees remained in the building, and security was tighter than ever.

Biggs's head peeked out from under the manhole, counting the Shinra guards stationed at each entrance of the building. From the looks of it, there would be no way of getting into the building without running into the guards.

"Shit, we did this to ourselves," he grumbled irritably.

"What'd you expect?" a voice spoke up from behind Biggs's earpiece. "After our last bombing of the building, of course Shinra's going to tighten up security."

Biggs swore under his breath and climbed back down the ladder again. "I thought the point of the bombing was to scare people away from this place," he grumbled under his breath. Taking a deep breath, he signaled for his team to back away from the ladder. "So what now?"

"Well, Barret said that he'd be at the building at this time," came the reply. "But I haven't gotten anything from him yet."

"Jesus," Biggs remarked, shaking his head. "What if something's happened to him? Are we supposed to wait here?"

"Hey, I'm just telling you what Barret told me."

Biggs sighed and leaned against the ladder, rolling his eyes. "Great. A stake out," he muttered irritably. "Any news from Cobra, Wedge?"

"Cobra was here an hour ago asking for Barret. I told Cobra that I haven't gotten anything from Barret ever since he left for the building, which was about 3 hours ago."

"Shit! Something's happened then!"

The atmosphere was tense as guards lined up against the walls, guns loaded and ready to shoot anyone deemed as a threat (which was basically almost everyone). There was no way to access the building without passing through security.

"Freeze!"

Guns were cocked and pointed directly at the sound of approaching footsteps. Alarmed, an old woman gasped and shot her hands up into the air, her eyes wide with fear. The guards looked at her carefully, checking if she was any threat.

"Ma'am, turn a full three hundred-sixty degree turn," one guard said gruffly, his gun still pointed towards her.

The middle-aged woman quickly complied, turning around several times. As she turned, she revealed a faded business suit, a dark wool scarf around her neck, and small rectangular glasses framing her face.

After turning for a fourth time, the guard finally ordered her to stop and face him as he approached her. "Okay, ma'am, we'll need to know if you're carrying any weapons," he said sternly, holding his hand up towards her.

"Oh!" The woman fumbled in her pockets for a moment before finally fishing out a dull edged nail file with a mirror behind it. Holding it up to the guard, she asked, "You mean like this old thing?"

Sighing, the guard snatched the nail file away from the woman and shoved it in his pocket. "That's considered a weapon, ma'am. You're going to have to live without it. Now, what's your business here?"

Hands trembling, the woman stammered nervously, "Uh, w-well, I work here." Once again she fumbled through her pockets and pulled out an ID. "I was specifically requested by the president to show up today."

Once again, the guard snatched the ID from her hand and inspected it carefully, scowling at the face in the ID and then to the woman standing before him. With one hand, he motioned for another guard to come over, handing him the ID to scrutinize.

The second guard produced a portable device from his pocket and scanned the ID with it. After a few seconds, a green light lit the device's screen, followed by a loud "blip."

"Clear. Just one more scan," the first guard grumbled, taking another portable device hanging from his belt. Once again, he checked for any hidden weapons the woman may have "neglected" to mention. He found none.

"You're free to go in now, ma'am," the guard said, stepping out of the woman's way.

The woman retrieved her ID from the second guard and gave him a courteous smile. "Thank you, boys. With you guys here, I don't have to worry about an attack here." And with that, she walked into the building, a triumphant smile on her lips.

The trip to Shinra Building was met with complete silence as Cloud and Vincent flew past the slums and towards the upper levels of Midgar. The silence had been long and uncomfortable, and neither Cloud nor Vincent could think of anything to break the tension. Thus, once in front of the building, Cloud was relieved to find himself busy with security.

"Has anyone else arrived?" Cloud asked, turning over to the cranky guard in charge of security.

"Yeah, the president's already here, and so are the rest of his associates," he replied, scanning Cloud's ID.

Cloud gave a nod of approval and walked past the guards, taking his ID with him.

"Uh…sir?"

Cloud glanced over his shoulder. "What is it?"

"Uh, well, another person arrived here just before the two of you," the guard confessed, scratching his head. "Her ID was clear and everything, so I let her in. She said the president had requested her to come in."

Cloud was in no mood to be acting as some bodyguard. "I'm sure the president has his reasons," the SOLDIER remarked, turning back to follow Vincent into the elevator. "What was her name?" he asked out of reflex.

The guard scratched his head again and thought for a moment before giving an answer. "It was…uh…"

Even without an answer, Cloud knew something was wrong. Shaking his head, he strode into the elevator. "Never mind," he said, not wanting a whole panic scene to ensue. "She's probably just a secretary."

As the elevator doors closed, Cloud scowled to himself. The guards had most likely allowed a member of AVALANCHE to slip through security. The SOLDIER sighed. It was going to be a long day.