3
Provocation
A voice startled Tifa out of her reverie.
"I see you're awake."
She jumped up, automatically assuming a fighting stance with her fists clenched, but the cell was as empty as ever. The slight buzzing in the background told her that the voice was coming from some kind of intercom. She stared up at the ceiling – yes, there it was, a tiny black device hidden in the corner, almost impossible to spot.
She let her arms fall by her sides, determined not to sound frightened. "Who are you?" she demanded.
"That is none of your concern, Tifa," said the voice. It was male, quite deep, with a self-assured tone that reminded her of Rufus. But she didn't recognise it.
"Why are you keeping me here?"
"This is a temporary situation, I promise you. We hope to free you within a week."
Tifa was astonished. "But... why? What's the point of all this?"
"You are our guarantee that a friend will do a little favour for us."
So her suspicions were right. She was a hostage. "If you're talking about Cloud, he'll come and rescue me, I know he will."
The voice chuckled. "Your faith is touching. By the way, your children are safe."
"Have-" Tifa started, but the intercom cut off even as she spoke. Silence once again became her only companion in the cell. She growled in frustration and started pacing again. Should she believe the voice or not? It was cruel, almost, that he had given her hope that Denzel and Marlene were all right, and yet she didn't know whether to believe him. She knew a little more about why she was here, but she had no idea who her captors were, or the nature of the 'favour' one of her friends had been asked to do. Perhaps they were just petty criminals holding her to ransom for one hundred thousand gil. She snorted at the thought.
Her stomach rumbled. She wondered how long she had been out for. It was impossible to tell what time it was. Her only indication of how much time had passed was her empty stomach and parched throat.
Tifa walked to the door and hammered it with her bare fists as hard as she could. The noise echoed. "Hey!" she yelled. "Let me out! Let me out right now! Come in and face me, you cowards!"
A few minutes passed before she got any response. Someone outside rapped the door sharply and a gruff voice snarled, "Shut ya mouth, prisoner. Go to sleep!"
Tifa put on a pleading voice. "Please, my throat is so parched. Can I have a little water?"
"No, you can't!"
"If you just came in, no one would know… I'm all alone..."
The guard laughed harshly. "I ain't falling for that one, bitch. You've barely been in here a day. Make any more noise and I'll be back here tomorrow with the rest of the guys to beat some sense into ya!"
What a mean guy! She pressed her head against the door and heard receding footsteps. Then she sighed, and allowed her body to slide down until she was slumped against the wall. She stared at her hands, pale in the darkness. The wolf ring Cloud had given her gleamed silver. It was a reminder of all they had been through together, and it made her feel connected to him.
One day, she hoped Cloud would give her another ring, one not to remind them of the past, but to symbolise their future. Then they could start their own family. My hopes... my dreams... They all come back to you, Cloud. I hope you realise that.
She wiped the tears away from her eyes and sniffed. Cloud always came when she needed him. He kept the promise he had made long ago, and he continued to keep it. Even when he had left them for a while, she didn't give up hope. He came back, and he was more like the old Cloud she knew and loved. An optimistic Cloud looking forward to a brighter future.
And now this. It seemed like the whole world was conspiring to keep them apart. She folded her arms and shook her head in frustration. She had faced worse than this. One measly little prison cell wasn't going to beat her. Together, they had overcome many obstacles. She could handle this.
She got up and moved over to the mattress, figuring that some much-needed rest would help her keep up her strength. The mattress was about as uncomfortable as you could get, but it was better than the cold floor. She shifted about for a couple of minutes, trying to avoid the odd bumps, before finally settling down. Her head still hurt. It was more of a dull ache than the pounding migraine she had experienced when she first woke up.
She could live with it.
As Tifa laid there, eyes wide open and staring into the empty cell, the real gravity of her situation struck her for the first time. She had spent most of her energy worrying about her family. Now she realised that she was utterly alone.
She wondered if her feelings were strong enough, she could somehow project them to Cloud, no matter how far away he was. Then she mentally chided herself for being silly. Do you realise how much I love you, Cloud? She closed her eyes and prayed that he might hear anyway. I love you, Cloud. I love you.
The house was actually a small apartment at the edge of the city. Cloud only managed to get a brief glimpse of the city itself; after the train ride, he had been bundled into a car with darkened windows, so he couldn't see anything at all. He had let Yuffie lean against his shoulder; she groaned occasionally, and he knew all the travelling was making her feel even sicker, but luckily she didn't vomit again.
The sky was overcast, making the streets dark and gloomy. It reminded him of the old Midgar, except it was better cared for and there was actually some greenery. The wide roads were busy with traffic. The apartment was the last building on the road out of the city. Beyond, he could see wide plains and a strange structure in the distance.
Noticing where Cloud was looking, Wedge spoke. "That's Balamb Garden. Amazing, isn't it? It's huge, but the thing is mobile. A flying military academy."
Biggs elbowed him. "Quiet! We can fill him in once we get inside. Hurry."
He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and opened the door. Cloud and Yuffie stepped in behind him. They found themselves in a narrow, deserted corridor.
"You're on the second floor," said Biggs.
They went upstairs. Cloud noted the dusty floorboards and the cobwebs clustering on the ceiling and walls. Clearly, this place had long since been abandoned. They emerged into a small living room with a kitchen-diner attached. Huge windows dominated two of the walls, designed to let in as much light as possible, although right now it was having little effect. It was moderately clean – someone had been here before and prepared the accommodation.
Cloud laid Yuffie down on the threadbare sofa. Then he looked at the two soldiers.
Biggs handed him two mobile phones. "One for you and one for the girl," he said gruffly. "You can use them to keep in touch. We'll also use them to communicate with you, so keep them switched on at all times, got that?"
Cloud nodded. He examined the phone; the style was different to what he was used to, a little bulkier. "What about getting into Balamb Garden?"
Biggs nodded at Wedge. The blue-uniformed soldier took out a sheaf of papers from inside his jacket. "I've got them, sir." He looked at Cloud. "These are false identity papers for Yuffie. She'll pretend to be a transfer student from Galbadia Garden. We've included all the information you'll need about the two Gardens, so make sure you read it carefully. She'll be taken to Balamb Garden tomorrow morning."
"Meanwhile, you stay here," said Biggs. "Don't phone Yuffie, let her phone you. We'll monitor both of you, and when she's ready, Yuffie will tell you to head for Garden yourself. It's not hard to miss – you can see it from this window."
Cloud glanced out of the window. Biggs was right; he could see the same strange structure hovering on the plain.
"That's it?" he said.
The two soldiers looked at each other.
"I think that's everything, sir," said Wedge. He put the papers down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Yuffie sat up and massaged her temples.
"What's that?" she asked. "Ugh, I have the worst headache ever. Can someone explain what's going on? Where am I? This is not what I call a five star hotel."
Wedge paused.
"Come on," Biggs growled. "We'll let the mercenary explain things. Just remember," he added to Cloud, "this house is being watched."
He and Wedge left. Cloud waited until the noise of their footsteps had faded and then sat down in an armchair near to Yuffie. He removed his sword from his back and propped it against an armrest.
"How are you feeling?" he asked in a low voice.
"Not good." Yuffie's complexion looked slightly healthier, but she had lost her normal boundless energy. She sat cross-legged and stretched. "The trip wasn't exactly fun. I'm less shaky, but more sick – and damn this headache!" She smacked her forehead and winced.
"I think I could do with a drink. You want some water?"
She nodded.
He walked over to the kitchen area. "Let's see what food they've got in this place…" He opened a few cupboards. Inside were mainly tinned foods and a few snacks in wrappers. At least they're not going to starve us, he thought. There's enough here for a few days.
He searched around and found two tall glasses. He turned on the tap, which spluttered and ran with dirty red water at first, but turned clear after a few seconds. He let it run a while just in case, thinking that it probably hadn't been used for a long time. He drained his own glass in one gulp, refilled it, and came over to sit with Yuffie.
She took the glass of water gratefully.
"I needed that." She splashed the last of the water over her head. "I'm burning up here."
"Do you want me to fetch you a flannel or something?"
"Yeah, thanks, Cloud." She stretched out on the sofa and placed a cushion behind her head so she could lie down comfortably. Then she grinned at him cheekily.
He searched around in the small, grubby bathroom, but he couldn't find a suitable cloth, so he just grabbed a sponge instead and stuck it under the tap. He washed his face and hands in the chipped basin. The cool water was soothing on his skin. Then he picked up the dripping sponge and returned to Yuffie. She slapped it over her forehead immediately.
"That's better. This place really is a dump. I tried to turn on the TV with that remote, but it's not working."
Cloud looked at the TV in the corner. The screen was dusty. "That doesn't surprise me." He checked the phone attached to the wall. No dial tone. There were no newspapers, no magazines – nothing that might give them useful information about this world, or give them a means of communication other than the mobile phones. He picked up the remote from the coffee table and examined it – as he had suspected, it had no batteries.
He sat back down in the armchair and sighed. "Are you ready now, Yuffie? Do you want me to tell you what's going on?"
She closed her eyes. "Go on. Hit me."
Squall charged first. He ran straight at Seifer with his sword raised and struck with all his strength. Seifer sidestepped him neatly and slashed at his chest, but Squall's momentum had already taken him out of range. He skidded and turned round, twisting his sword with him. Seifer parried and now the battle was in full swing: stroke, parry, counterstroke, neither taking a hit nor giving any ground.
Seifer thrust at his abdomen and Squall only just leapt back in time – he felt the point nick his stomach, drawing blood. Seizing his advantage, Seifer pressed forward, attacking Squall with a flurry of blows so that all Squall could do was parry and retreat. He sensed a fence looming behind him – he couldn't let himself get backed into a corner. He ducked a particularly wild stroke and slashed upwards in a diagonal arc. Seifer grunted and jumped back, but not before the blade had sliced into his shoulder. Initiative lost, he stumbled away, clutching his shoulder with one hand. Blood seeped through his fingers.
Squall quickly moved into the middle of the battlefield, pausing for a moment to get his breath back. He didn't want to be so rash this time. They circled each other, both wary.
"Had enough yet?" panted Seifer.
For an answer, Squall dashed forward, as though he was going for a direct thrust again. Seifer raised his gunblade to block him, but at the last second realised he was feinting. Squall sidestepped and dropped his sword to slash at Seifer's middle; Seifer tried to dodge, but he was off-balance; he lifted his arm instinctively to protect himself and the blade sliced into his elbow, cutting right to the bone. At the same time, Squall pulled the trigger. The blast sent Seifer flying into the air, yelling in pain. He hit the ground with a loud thud and didn't move.
Squall ran over and stamped on the hand that was still gripping Seifer's gunblade. He pointed his sword at his rival's throat.
"Yield?"
Seifer gave a rasping laugh, but his face was scrunched up in pain. "Yeah. Now take your damn foot off my hand before I have to get a new one."
Squall stood back. He was relieved to see Seifer sit up, but one of his arms was limp and his coat was smeared with blood and dirt.
"You nearly killed me, you bastard," said Seifer. "What's up, trying to give me a new scar?"
Squall laughed humourlessly. "You didn't exactly hold back yourself." He lifted up his bloodied white top to see how much damage Seifer had done. The sword had made a narrow slit in his skin. The wound wasn't deep, but it was bleeding a lot, and it hurt a lot too, as shallow cuts often do.
"Cure me, you bastard, before I lie down and die here." Seifer's tone was mocking, but his face had an unhealthy grey pallor. His injuries needed tending, and fast.
"I can't," said Squall. "I'm not a doctor, and I haven't junctioned any GFs, so I can't use magic."
Seifer rolled his eyes. "Why the hell not? I was relying on a cure spell, dammit."
Because I don't want to lose any more of my memories, you tosser.
Out loud, he said, "I'd better get you to the infirmary quickly then."
"No, don't bother," said Seifer. "Let's sit out here and make daisy chains until I bleed to death, shall we?"
"Shut up and get up, Almasy." Seifer stood up shakily and Squall helped him to start walking to the training centre entrance.
"Not on first name terms any more, are we?" Seifer gasped.
"Not when you're being a prick."
"How about when I'm being a bastard?"
It was Squall's turn to roll his eyes. "You're wasting energy. Just concentrate on walking."
"Hey, wait…" Seifer glanced back. "You left my gunblade back there!"
"I've only got two hands, you know. I can't carry my sword and your sword and you all at the same time."
"You can't just leave it!"
"You can go back for it later. Nobody's going to steal it."
"Like hell they won't! Do you know how rare the Hyperion model is?"
Only Seifer could be thinking about a lost weapon while he's so badly injured, Squall thought.
"I thought you were dying," he said, unable to keep a sneer out of his voice. "Sure you don't want me to value a gunblade above your life?"
"If that gunblade disappears, you're the one I'm going to blame for it."
"Fine," Squall muttered. Their pace was slow, but they were getting near the entrance now – he could see the huge metal doors.
"If I die, I'll come back and kill you too."
"Now you're just delirious."
Seifer gave a hacking laugh and coughed up some blood. "Ouch…"
Squall suddenly felt Seifer's body go limp against him, and he almost fell over trying to support the dead weight. Passed out from the pain, probably, he thought. He heaved Seifer up, trying not to look at the young man's head lolling back at an awkward angle, or the white bone protruding from his elbow, or the dark stain across his shoulder.
He was just stumbling into the corridor that led to the exit, when he heard a roar behind him.
…Damn.
Cloud told her. By the end of his story, she had leapt off the sofa and ran over to the window, staring into an unfamiliar horizon. The sun was setting. Its last golden rays illuminated the dingy living room.
"This can't be real," she said.
He shrugged. "Feels real. Looks real enough, too."
"But… but…" she struggled for something to say. "They brought us here to kill someone? What the hell? What kind of screwed-up place is this?"
Cloud was flicking through the information Wedge had given him about Balamb Garden. "In this Garden place, they train little kids to be mercenaries. They admit students between the ages of five and fifteen."
"Five?" said Yuffie incredulously. "What sicko thought that one up?"
"Cid and Edea Kramer, apparently," said Cloud, still skimming through the notes. "According to this, Cid and Edea have retired and they're living at an orphanage."
Yuffie snorted. "I wouldn't trust them with my kids."
"Squall Leonhart is now the commander of SeeD and Garden." The notes included a picture. Cloud stared at the young, grim-looking man. He had a distinctive scar across his face – that would make him easy to recognise.
Yuffie moved away from the window and bent over his shoulder. "Hey, is that him? He's hot."
"Yuffie… You can't think like that. I might have to kill him."
"Why?"
"Because he's the target's fiancé. He'll want to protect her. Once I've killed Rinoa, I might have to fight my way out, and you can bet he'll be there. All the SeeDs are trained fighters, and he's their leader. That means he must be the best."
"Like Sephiroth, huh?"
Cloud stiffened. "No. Nobody's like Sephiroth."
Squall knew that sound. He tried to judge the distance between himself and the exit. If he wanted to run, it would only take him a few seconds. Could he make a dash carrying Seifer?
Heavy footsteps caused the ground to shudder. Squall risked a glance over his shoulder. The giant reptile stood in the clearing he had just left. It walked on two heavy, powerful legs, leaving its forelimbs free for ripping and clawing. Its nostrils flared and it opened its mouth, revealing a set of pointed fangs. A dark stripe ran across its neck and back, down to its bulky tail which swished from side to side as it moved. If he stayed still, it probably wouldn't see him – T-rexaurs had poor eyesight. But something had caught its attention. It bent its huge head down to the ground and sniffed. Squall realised that the smell of Seifer's blood had attracted it. The trail led right to them.
He had to make a quick decision. The T-rexaur was still sniffing around. It would take it a minute or two to realise its quarry had moved off and follow the trail. He could try to escape and hope that the T-rexaur didn't notice him in time. The second choice was to leave Seifer where he was and kill the monster. The monster would be expecting to find an injured creature, not a fighter. With any luck, he would be able to stun it in a single hit, if he aimed his strike correctly. He would just have to hope that Seifer didn't bleed to death or get attacked by another monster during that time.
These thoughts flashed through Squall's head in a second. He put Seifer down, so that the man lay flat on the ground. Then he gripped his gunblade in both hands and charged at the monster.
"This sucks," said Yuffie. "This really sucks. We've got to go in there and kill some innocent girl, and probably a load of others too if they catch us – and for what? What do we get out of this?"
"We get to go home. And Tifa gets to stay safe."
"Oh, yeah… Tifa." Yuffie's voice sounded defeated. "I guess you're right. We really don't have a choice."
Cloud indicated a file he had left on the table. "There's your fake ID and cover information. Are you going to take a look?"
"Yeah." Yuffie dropped the sponge, which was merely damp now, and looked through her papers. "Hey, they got my name right. They even spelt it right. How did they know that?"
Cloud looked pensive. "I don't know, Yuffie. I really don't know."
"Let's see… I joined Galbadia Garden at the age of ten… I was one of their best students – ha! They got that one right too. Blah, blah, blah… specialist weapon the shuriken. Wow, they really know their stuff. I've decided to transfer to Balamb Garden because I want to take the SeeD test." She looked up. "What's that?"
"SeeD are Garden's specialist mercenary force. They're elite fighters, kind of like SOLDIER." He felt his stomach drop as he remembered that he'd never made it into SOLDIER. The SeeDs he might be facing were all successful. He was a failure. He tried to put it to the back of his mind. He couldn't let doubt cripple him now, not when Tifa's life was at stake.
The T-rexaur's head whipped up as it saw the movement and it roared. The vibration made Squall's entire body tremble, but he ignored the noise, which he knew was meant to intimidate and jumped at the reptile's head. This was a risky tactic; the creature's huge teeth could rip him in half with one bite. The monster's hide was tough, however, and its throat was the most vulnerable part of its body.
He slashed with his gunblade as he leapt, and struck the T-rexaur across the throat. It let out another deafening roar, but this time one of mortal agony, and blood spurted out of its neck and mouth. Squall landed right next to the creature's thrashing tail, which caught him a heavy blow across the chest. He flew across the clearing and smashed into the ground. Dazed, he looked up to see the reptile stamping about in pain and rage, as droplets of blood scattered into the air. He scrabbled away as it lurched towards him and his leg almost got pinned beneath a giant claw. He rolled over to find himself directly underneath the monster. Gunblade grasped in one hand, he stabbed up at its exposed belly.
The T-rexaur shrieked again. It took two tottering steps forward, then with a final roar collapsed on the ground in front of him. Its heavy tail landed on his arm before he could dodge it. Squall grimaced and cursed. His sword arm was trapped and he couldn't reach the gunblade with his other arm. He tried to pull free and winced. Damn, this thing is really heavy.
Then he saw something which made his eyes widen in fear. Two grats, obviously attracted by the prospect of fresh meat, were scuttling straight towards him.
