Hey. I present you with chapter seven, which is a very decent length of 17 1/4 pages. I had originally started writing the chapter much earlier, but then decided to scrap seven of the eight pages (because I thought they were totally awful and anticlimactic). I think the rewrite is much better.

Okay, time for me to babble incessantly for a bit.

First of all, I told you that chapter seven was to be the pivotal chapter thus far in the story. This remains true. You may have noticed by the chapter's title . . . anyway, just letting you all know that I haven't delayed the chapter I've promised any more. This is it. It's here. And you finally get to read it.

Now for the chapter summary. It's very short:

The shit hits the fan. Hard.

The following characters are prominently featured: Auron, Paine, Kinoc and two secret agents. Seymour, Tidus, Yuna and Rikku make small appearances. And that's all I'm saying.

Now, I think this actually covers it, but I have my two usual liability shields to wield. Here they are.

First, the disclaimer. I do not own Final Fantasy X, the Characters, Spira or anything else associated with the original game Final Fantasy X. However, the plot is mine. Don't steal it without my permission.

And now, the warning: This story continues to be rated M for mature. Those who are skeptical of stories with this rating are fully aware that they read Zanarkand, Full Circle at their own discretion and will not hold the author responsible for any offense taken.

Note: this chapter contains disturbing scenes of violence.

That's it. Hopefully chapter seven will be as good as I've said. Now, read it and tell me. Go on.


Chapter 7: Killzone: Mission Complete


_
9.4 million homes across Spira.
22:38.
Sunday, November 24._

"Welcome back, loves, this is Leblanc reporting to you live from the SINN HQ building in beautiful snow-covered Zanarkand. Coming up in the last quarter-hour of our broadcast! The science and psychology of gambling: why and how it affects even those who don't gamble. But first, we have a lighter bit of breaking news for you tonight . . . at least for those of you who are fans of the Zanarkand Abes. The blitzball team has done it again, effectively trouncing the Al Bhed Psyches in a smashing six-to-one victory! Though we'll certainly have much more coverage for you during the Sports Hour, up next, what I've been told is that all six goals were scored in the last half of the game, and three of them were scored by Tidus, the young and rapidly-rising star for the hometown team. We'll have an interview to broadcast later on in the show, as well as–"

Leblanc suddenly paused and clutched her ear as if it had just been lit aflame. Her facial expression, once happy and carefree, now bore stark horror. Her hands flew to her mouth. Quickly, she covered the mike on her shirt and whispered something to a producer who had just come into view. They conversed for several seconds before Leblanc nodded, still looking utterly horrified. She glanced out the window to her right, but the camera neglected to follow. Shaking her head slightly, as if trying to rid her thoughts of awful memories, she cleared her throat several times and turned back to the cameras.

"Uh . . . loves, I've just gotten word of two very large blasts within Abes Stadium. Reports stipulate that they're on the west side of the stadium, which is right where the Visitors Bench as well as the Top Box are positioned. We're trying to get some cameras out there for you to see it yourself. Wait . . ." She covered her mike again and clutched her earpiece. "It's been confirmed. According to eyewitness accounts, the blasts were the result of large projectiles being fired from somewhere in Zanarkand Harbor." She paused, as if just realizing something. "We're going to take a short break, loves, but it appears as if . . ." she trailed off.

"It appears as if Zanarkand is under attack."

~~~~~ ZFC 1.7 ~~~~~

Forty Minutes Ago

_
Bevelle Mayor Tower.
21:58.
Sunday, November 24.

If it were possible for anybody to see in the corner of the Tower Lobby, one would no doubt find it peculiar to see a middle-aged man hiding behind a potted plant. It didn't matter to Auron, however, only the mission did. He had chosen this corner for three reasons. One, he had a good view of the security guard in the middle of the room. Two, he was well-hidden by the plant. And three, this was the darkest part of the entire lobby. Auron was currently using this down time to figure out how he could proceed without the guard noticing him. He had been waiting in this corner for the last twenty minutes, and still the guard hadn't budged. However, Auron had also noticed the guard chugging down energy drinks like there was no tomorrow, so he figured that the guard would have to relieve himself eventually.

He knew that once he could get to the guard's desk and retrieve a key card to the elevator and Seymour's office, a good portion of the mission will have already been completed. Kinoc would provide him with intelligence via the bug in his ear, but he had said that the hardest part would be sneaking onto the elevator without being detected. The guard's desk was right in the middle of the room, and the ceiling lights pretty much illuminated every part of the lobby but the corner in which Auron was currently hiding. He could always shoot out some lights with the M-9 tranquilizer gun he had been provided with, but even though the gun was silenced and shot only darts, it would certainly be enough to alert the guard. Auron could, of course, just shoot the guard right now, but the neurotoxin contained within each dart was enough to last for roughly thirty minutes, more than enough time for somebody to discover a dart in the security guard's forehead.

Finally, Auron's wait was up and his hunch was confirmed. The guard grunted slightly as he lifted himself out of his rolling desk chair and made for the men's room on the back wall, to the right of the elevator. Auron waited for the door to close behind the guard, and made his move. Quickly, he began shooting out necessary ceiling lights. Four, to be exact- one above the guard's desk, the one between the desk and elevator, and the two in front of the elevator. He kept to the wall, moving as quickly and as quietly as he could, before taking care of the two elevator lights with two quick and precise shots. Poff. Poff. The tinkle of glass and the dimming of his surroundings made Auron feel a little more at ease. He had always felt more comfortable at night, in the dark, and even more so now that he was using it to keep himself concealed. Anything could happen if he were discovered. He didn't want to take that chance.

Moving a little faster now, he crossed into the open under the light put off by the lights in the middle of the room, shooting out the light he crossed directly under on his way. The whole maneuver took all of four seconds, and soon he was behind the security guard's desk. The desk was in the shape of a U, blocking all escape routes but the one to the elevator or the bathroom. Auron did a visual sweep of the desk, looking for anything useful. He saw two four-packs of Red Bull sitting under the desk, as well as a garbage can. Papers and surveillance records littered the top of the desk, as well as a napkin with crumbs all over it. A coffee stain was next to the faded mousepad to the left of the computer. None of this interested the man, however. Auron turned off and unplugged the desk lamp, which effectively dimmed his surroundings. Just in case there was time, he also commanded the computer to search for any floor plans to the tower. However, the guard was bound to return any second, so he had to work fast, and whether he could look at the floor plans in time was questionable.

Auron's prime reason for coming over to the desk was resting inside a small lockbox on top of the computer. Quickly, Auron pulled out a lock pick from his pocket and stuck it inside the small keyhole to the box. This was the tricky part– he had to listen intently for the clicking of the pins inside the lock, while at the same time keeping an eye out for the guard. On the plus side, the bathroom was on the side of his good eye, so he wouldn't have to crane his neck as far to spot the guard. There were six pins, and he worked the pick so that he could jiggle each one, one at a time. He felt the first one click into place. A few seconds later, he had the second one. Moving even faster now, Auron wiggled the third and fourth pins into place. He got to the fifth pin, and heard it click as well. The six was already correctly positioned; the box was effectively unlocked.

Then, Auron heard the telltale whoosh of a toilet being flushed behind him. Time was running short. He reached inside and quickly pulled out a disposable key card to the elevator. The letters and numbers on the card were indeed entirely random, further proof of a very effective security system. Auron looked over at the computer, still searching for floor plans. Canceling this action, he quickly pulled up a program that looked like it would authorize his card. He was correct. The program called for him to insert the numbers on the card and the floor for which it was intended. He typed the letters and numbers into the corresponding blocks, A 1 C 6 F, and indicated the 41st floor as his intended destination. The program confirmed his combination and floor number before closing down.

"What the hell?"

Auron glanced quickly over his shoulder, and to his unsettlement, saw the security guard leaving the bathroom. He was, fortunately, not looking at his desk at the moment, but instead was distracted by the lights next to the elevator that Auron had shot out. Now, all Auron had to do was to get to the elevator. However, with a security guard blocking his way, there was no way he could cross without being discovered. As he sat motionless, thinking of what could be done, he came up with an idea. Auron had always been a man to make do with what little he had. He bent down into the trash can and picked out one of the empty Red Bull cans. Taking aim, he lobbed it into the corner which he had previously been hiding in.

It worked. The guard snapped his head around to where he heard the empty can clatter against the polished tile floor of the lobby. He drew his gun and began slowly slinking along the wall, just as Auron had before. When the guard was effectively out of the way, Auron slowly crept out from the confines of the desk and began to tiptoe in the direction of the elevator. It was a good fifty feet from the desk to the elevator, but Auron was able to cover a decent amount of area noiselessly and quietly. Soon, he was ten feet away from the elevator, successfully under the protection of near-total darkness. He moved forward, being very careful to dodge the glass shards on the ground. Just a few more steps and he would press the button and be on the elevator.

Kkk-kk.

A stray piece of glass had worked itself underneath Auron's foot, shattering under his weight and making more than enough noise. The guard was evidently quite spooked, because he whirled around and actually shot his gun in the general direction of the noise. It missed Auron by a good ten feet, but even Auron was quite startled by the guard's jumpiness. Conspicuous or not, Auron did not plan on going out in a lobby, so he aimed his M-9 at the guard (whom he could see, even though the guard could not see him) and shot him in the chest with a tranquilizer dart. The neurotoxin was injected straight into his Vena Cava, the largest vein in the body. Within seconds, the toxin had traveled to the guard's brain and he slumped to the floor, out like a light.

Auron quickly glanced in the guard's direction and saw that he had fallen in a dark part of the room. There was no need to hide his body.

He pressed the only button on the elevator's panel and the doors opened on command. He stepped in quickly and inserted his key card in compliance with the computer voice he heard. Once his code was effectively confirmed (courtesy of himself), he pressed the button for the 41st floor. The doors closed and he felt the elevator jolt to life and began to rapidly speed him up 550 feet of skyscraper. A few seconds later, he pointed his pistol at the small elevator light that illuminated the box and shot it, instantly plunging him into total darkness.

The bug in his ear suddenly hummed, buzzing to life. "You're in," the voice said.

"Not without being discovered, though," Auron said. "Tell me what's in Seymour's office. I don't want any more surprises."

"His office is normally dark," Kinoc said. "Satellite imaging shows him nowhere near the office; he's several floors below you. The only light on in the office is his desk lamp, I believe. You have plenty of places to hide."

Auron nodded and killed the connection as he felt the elevator slow to a halt. He readied his gun and pointed up, near the top of the elevator doors. He expected the unexpected, and was ready to shoot out any hallway light he might come across. However, the doors slid open to reveal a completely dark hallway. Kinoc had told him previously about Seymour's surveillance mind games, but the numerous TV monitors that Auron barely made out at the end of the hallway were devoid of any imagery. He slowly crept out of the elevator and down the hallway, listening for the sounds of the room. Anything out of the ordinary, and he would be instantaneously invisible.

He came to the end of the hallway and scanned the office, looking for necessary hiding places. Behind the desk, there was an alcove with two potted plants that was almost entirely dark, and would be when he turned off the desk lamp. There were plenty of chairs he could hide behind that he saw to his left. However, he also saw a steaming mug of something resting on the table, so he wrote the chairs off as too risky. Apparently, Seymour had just been here. He didn't want to be discovered by the Mayor. If Seymour alerted security, Auron would be nobody and the SIA would deny any ties with him, leaving him to rot in a prison cell. So, it seemed that the potted plants were his best choice. Before he continued on, though, he retrieved a small white pill from his suit and dropped it in Seymour's drink, which smelled like peppermint tea.

"What was that?" Kinoc asked him.

"Sleeping pill," Auron grunted in response, making his way over to Seymour's desk.

"Pretty crude, don't you think?" Kinoc asked, laughing at the apparent absurdity of drugging Seymour's drink.

"It's no less crude than a dart sticking out of his head," Auron said shortly.

"You certainly cover all your bases, Auron," Kinoc said, sounding impressed.

The CD he was meant to download on Seymour's computer was tucked safely inside his sneaking suit. After confirming that the office was indeed empty and no cameras were on, he stood erect and walked over behind the desk to Seymour's computer. He jiggled the mouse to wake up the monitor and turned off and unplugged Seymour's lamp. With the computer ready, Auron began to hack it. The mission briefing had provided the necessary information to get past Seymour's security defenses. Auron entered a necessary series of passwords and decoding sequences to be able to access the desktop. When he was in, he opened the D drive on the computer and inserted the CD. Auron had no idea of the contents of the CD, but soon found out that it wasn't a program or a virus as he had expected. It appeared to be just an ordinary Data disc.

However, Auron could tell that the file on the disc was extremely well-protected. When he clicked on it, half a dozen password screens appeared as well as a timer. Quickly, Auron closed out of all the screens in case the file was programmed to delete itself in case of an attempted security breach. The downloading process was easy. Auron had been provided with the computer filename under which he was supposed to put the CD file. He smiled. After performing a search for the file in question, he found that it was just a video game program, the least likely place to look for incriminating information. He commanded the computer to copy the file from the CD to the computer file after getting past three different virus and spyware blocking programs. After another fifteen seconds, the transfer was complete.

Auron ejected the disc and removed a small piece of sandpaper from his pocket. To ensure that the disc was only used once, he began to rub the sandpaper over the disc's surface, rendering it useless. He tossed the CD into the trash can under the desk and turned off the computer monitor. Drawing his M-9, he began to make his way back toward the elevator. As he moved toward the elevator, however, Auron began to develop an uneasy feeling that something was about to complicate things. He had gotten these hunches several times before when he was employed full-time with the SIA, including just before Jecht was killed. Therefore, Auron decided to retreat back to the alcove with the potted plants and wait for a few minutes while the hunch ebbed away.

"Get hidden! You've got incoming!" Kinoc warned.

Auron chuckled. "You're almost no help whatsoever. You know that?" he said.

Before Kinoc could answer, Auron the elevator doors slide open. He could see the hated Mayor stroll down the hallway and sit down in the chair next to his mug of tea, which was still steaming slightly. The mayor had a cellular phone pressed to his ear and was conversing with somebody unknown to Auron at the moment. The hiding man watched with slight amusement as he saw the mayor take a big gulp of his tea. The mayor laughed at whatever was being told to him by the person on the other end of his phone. It was a high-pitched laugh, not evil at all, but rather girly. It was hard to believe, in a way, that Seymour was who he was.

Seymour began to speak. "Yes . . . yes, that's good, Tromell," he said with a grin. "I like that idea very much." Silence for a few seconds, then, "Okay, now you're pushing it. Just because I give you praise doesn't give you liberties to try and change my ideas." More silence. "What are my motives? You should know my motives, Tromell! It is the will of Yevon. Heretics are not to be condoned. They have no right to demand that we share this world with them when they don't even believe in the deity who's responsible for all our prosperities!"

"I hate his rhetoric," Auron whispered.

"So do I," Kinoc agreed. "But keep your ear trained on him. He mentioned something about ideas and motives."

"I don't want to say over the phone," Seymour said in a tone of finality. "I am a cautious man. However, I will say this much: something big is going to happen very, very soon. You'll know it when you see it. Have you arranged my hiding place?" Silence. "And you are fully prepared to take the post as Mayor of this city when I have fled?" More silence. "Then it is done. The world will watch as I begin the Revelation. Blood will spill and fear will spread throughout the land like a disease." More silence. "Yes, I am fully prepared. Get ready to take me to the secure location on Monday at eleven hundred hours. I'll be on the pad." Silence again. "I'm done talking to you, Tromell. I've become extremely tired all of a sudden. Yes, we'll be in touch." Auron could hear the sounds of a cell phone being snapped shut.

"Coming from Seymour, that's something no man wants to hear," Auron said.

"Agreed," Kinoc replied. "We've already got surveillance on him. We'll know where he's going before Tromell does."

"A few more minutes, and I should be out of here," Auron said. "That pill works fast."

"As do you," Kinoc said. "Well done, as always, Auron. Your flight leaves in an hour. I suggest you hurry."

Auron was tired of people stating the obvious. "I don't need your advice, sir," Auron said. "As far as I'm concerned, once this bug is out of my ear, I never worked for you in my life."

Kinoc sighed. "Have it your way, then," he said. "Just know that you're always welcome to return. And what you just overheard might very well save innocent lives."

The line became silent, and as such, Auron could faintly hear snoring coming from the easy chair across the room. He tiptoed to the hallway, eyeing the Mayor with disgust as he passed. The elevator was still on the 41st floor, and he stepped into it, noticing that the light bulb in the ceiling had already been replaced. Well, now there was no need to be sneaky. He stepped inside and pushed the button for the second floor. The elevator wasted no time in whisking him down, and he exited. Walking over to the nearest window, he opened it and began to rappel his way down the side of the building. He had the tools to avoid the lobby, and he would do so. A few seconds later, his feet touched solid ground, right next to where he had left his trenchcoat. He donned it, maneuvered to the sidewalk and merged with the other people on the sidewalk, effectively blending into the citizenry.

Mission Complete.

~~~~~ ZFC 1.7 ~~~~~

_
Bevelle, Morgan's Deli Shop.
22:19.
Sunday, November 24.
_

Splat. Paine scowled as half of her turkey sub fell out of the end and onto the wax paper that the sandwich had come in. Such was the price she paid for getting extra mustard. Crudely, she grabbed the wad of mustard, lettuce and tomato and stuffed it back in the hoagie before taking another huge bite. She hadn't eaten since leaving Zanarkand International Airport almost 24 hours ago, and she figured that she might as well get a quick bite while she waited for any word about whether or not her services were needed. So far, however, her employer had remained silent. Not that Paine cared either way. In fact, she was kind of hoping that he wouldn't call, because if he didn't, there would be time for another hoagie.

She heard her palm pilot beep from within her satchel. She quickly dropped her sandwich, wiped her hands on a paper napkin, and retrieved the little device. The screen, despite months of use, was barely scratched, and she saw that she was receiving an e-mail from an untraceable account. Downloading a few seconds later, Paine saw that the message contained word on her mission status. Drawing out the tiny black stylus, she tapped the screen to bring up the message, and sighed irritably. She was needed after all. Even though she was hoping for zero (solely for the sake of more eating time) hits, she was satisfied with seeing that there was only one hit that needed to be done.

Paine was also receiving a second e-mail as well, no doubt carrying the data on the target. She clicked on it, briefly scanning the e-mail as she picked and ate bread off her hoagie absentmindedly. She laughed when she saw the hit. It was only two blocks away; she could easily walk there. Also, she was bewildered at why such a man would need to be killed. He was just a security guard; there couldn't be any way he was protecting valuable information. Nevertheless, she wasn't paid to question whom she killed.

Discreetly, Paine reached down into her satchel and replaced the palm pilot. Getting up from the table, she drew her silver nine millimeter semiautomatic handgun and unloaded the near-empty magazine, replacing it with a fresh one. Paine had many idiosyncracies, one of which was that she would never begin a hit or series of hits with a cartridge that wasn't full. It was also a safety precaution. If in fact her target had figured out some way to defend itself, she would need more than three bullets to take it down. She armed the gun and turned off the safety. Tipping with a hundred, left the deli shop and began to walk the street.

Cautious really wasn't the right word to describe the professional assassin. Rather, she was confident and saw through to the very end of a scenario. Therefore, she had no fear of walking down the sidewalks of Bevelle with her silver pistol glinting off a nearby street light, clenched in her left hand for all to see. Even if the police were called on her, passerby had no idea where she was going, and she was very adept at disappearing into thin air. Although, for Paine, thin air usually meant a commercial plane. She never stayed in one spot for too long. Always being on the move lessened the chances of being caught. Four years of experience in the private sector taught Paine a great deal about what it was like to live a life on the move, always on the run from people who knew too late that she existed.

Nobody saw the pistol tonight, however, which was neither bad nor good. Paine was indifferent that way. If anybody raised an issue with it, Paine always had a few extra rounds for that very reason. More than working for the money, she didn't like people. They were so under-appreciative of life and what they had. They always thought they had it so bad. That their life couldn't possibly get any worse. Their marriage fell apart. They got fired from their job. Well, guess what? They're still alive, they still have a roof over their heads, and they still have friends. But it was always easier to focus on the negative. If life was so bad, why didn't they kill themselves? They were too chicken, that's why. So Paine gave them a hand. People only appreciate what they have when they're on the verge of losing it. Paine's job reminded people to enjoy life.

Or, rather, her gun did.

She had reached the location of the target. The door was probably opened by somebody on the inside since she could see a security camera sweeping every angle of the entrance. Entering that way was not an option. However, there was a very stiff awning underneath one of the side windows. She figured, at 130 pounds, that she was light enough for the awning to support her weight so she could slide in a second-story window. Replacing the gun, she studied the awning for a moment, judging her next move. She took a running start and grabbed hold of one of the awning's side braces, hoisting herself up. Once she was on the awning, she gradually eased her full weight onto the brace, and though it creaked dangerously, it held. Slowly and carefully, she equipped a silencer on the end of her pistol and shot out the window. Quickly, she glanced behind her to make sure nobody spotted her as she broke into the building. When the coast was clear, she replaced the gun in its holster and gracefully slid through the window and onto the second floor.

Almost instantaneously, she located the elevator and pressed the down button. After a minute, she heard the telltale ping that signaled the arrival of the elevator, and the golden doors slid open to admit her. She pressed the G button, and the doors slid shut. Ten seconds later, she was on the ground floor and exited the elevator. The sight that she expected would greet her eyes did not. Instead of being neat and orderly as a lobby should be, the place looked trashed, what with broken glass littering the floor. Just in case Paine was to meet with somebody unwanted, she drew her pistol. Clenching it firmly in her hands with her left index finger wrapped around the thin metal trigger, she began slowly walking forward. Carefully, she sidestepped the small shards of glass on the floor and kept to the shadows. She noticed that several light bulbs had been shot out or blown out, but she suspected the former.

The security guard's desk was void of any human presence, so Paine slowly walked over to it, red eyes scanning her surroundings intently as she went. She was almost to the desk when she saw the target sprawled out near a corner with a small dart sticking out of his chest. Paine chuckled to herself. Apparently somebody had not yet finished the job, so she was called in for cleanup. But there was plenty of time for that. In the meantime, Paine walked over behind the desk to search for anything useful. By useful, she meant detrimental to her escape. Indeed, she saw the video feed and kill switch for the security camera outside. She drew a switchblade from her pocket and cut the wire. Instantaneously, the video feed from the camera ceased to exist. Just in case, though, she decided to do some additional trimming on other feeds.

"Freeze!"

Paine jerked up from where she was cutting another camera wire and saw the security guard standing twenty feet to her right-front, pistol pointed directly at her pale forehead. She felt her gun twitch in its holster, as if readying to be fired. Paine was quite certain that she would make it out of this alive. Certainly, she had touched hands with death in many more serious ways than this. She scrutinized the guard as she stood upright. He looked nervous, but the hands holding his gun were steady. A small bead of sweat was forming on his forehead. Perhaps the reason that he appeared slightly thrown was because Paine didn't look nervous in the slightest.

"Back away from the desk, nice and slow!" The guard commanded.

Paine obeyed wordlessly, slowly walking backwards away from the U-shaped desk. Her hands were in plain sight the whole time as she walked. The guard inched closer, keeping the gun trained on Paine's head the whole time. Soon, he was a mere few feet away from the young woman, who still was watching every move he made, waiting to seize her moment of opportunity. She could even see his chest rise and fall rapidly with adrenaline. Then, he removed his right hand for the gun and clasped it to his radio.

That was the guard's first and final mistake. Paine knew enough about the conscious mind that it was nearly impossible to train oneself to effectively multitask. With part of the guard's attention diverted to radioing in for backup, some was diverted from his trigger finger reflex. That was all Paine needed. In one swift movement, she swung her right forearm into the surprised guard's extended arm, knocking his gun to the floor. With her left hand, she reached for her holstered silver pistol, instantly aiming and firing two silent rounds into his chest. The guard shook violently as each bullet pierced his flesh, spattering his uniform and the shiny gold-colored badge on his shirt as he thudded to the floor. However, the guard was still alive. He watched with bloodshot, fearful eyes as Paine reached over him and turned off his radio her gun still firmly clutched in her left hand.

"P-please," he whispered. "Don't kill me. I . . . I have a wife at home . . ."

"I'm sure you do," Paine said stoically. "But unfortunately, there are a billion people with whom you share this world that don't care." She raised the pistol, pointing it at the frightened man's forehead. "The compassion that the world has to offer only stretches so far, I'm afraid, and not far enough to stop my trigger finger." With that, she fired the final round, and the guard stilled.

Without a second thought, she unscrewed the silencer and dropped it back in her satchel. Picking up her satchel and replacing her gun, she walked briskly out through the front doors of the tower, hailed a passing taxi, and sped off in the direction of the airport, never to look back.

Mission Complete.

~~~~~ ZFC 1.7 ~~~~~

_
Zanarkand Harbor.
22:22.

Sunday, November 24.

Alpha One was already feeling the anticipation for what was to come. And, it seemed, Mother Nature could tell as well. The wind had picked up nicely, rocking the small yacht he was currently aboard from side to side. White caps were common in the harbor, of course, especially with the coming of winter storms. He loved coincidence; the weather only added to the ominousness of the surroundings. The only thing missing was lightning, but thunder snowstorms were uncommon even for a city like Zanarkand, a city that had seen everything.

Well, almost everything.

Alpha One was going to prove just that. He turned to his counterpart, predictably code-named Alpha Two, who was sitting on a bench adjacent to the side of the boat. She was calibrating the focusing knob on a telescope body tube, getting ready to affix it to the tripod that had been secured to the floor at the rear of the boat. Another identical telescope was already set up next to the empty tripod, aimed at a break in the clouds that had formed in the sky. A camera modified to take pictures in low-light settings, had been affixed to the eyepiece of the telescope. They were, after all, pretending to be skyscape photographers.

He glanced at Alpha Two, who was now visually inspecting the telescope to make sure the package fit correctly. It was a fairly plain-looking telescope on the outside, a black four-inch diameter Celestron telescope with one sighting scope, called the viewfinder, and an eyepiece on the end. However, these telescopes had been modified slightly. The viewfinder had been replaced and a large rectangle had been cut out of the bottom end to make room for the battery that was attached to the package. All the innards of the telescope had been removed to make room for the package. In short, the telescope tube was just a disguise.

Alpha Two finished calibrating the device after several more minutes, and together they positioned the telescope on the tripod. It was made of hollow steel tubes which were specially designed to resist heavy loads. Indeed, the package inside the telescope weighted about 57 pounds, much more than a normal four-inch telescope. Once the telescope was securely fastened and a camera attached to the front eyepiece (which did not need to be removed just yet), the two people sat down on the bench, facing the scopes. They were identical in every respect.

"There's just one thing left to do," Alpha two sighed. She grabbed a cellular phone and dialed a secure line to their contact.

The phone hadn't even rung once before there was an answer on the other end. "Yes?" the voice said. It sounded expectant.

"The package is ready to be delivered," she said.

"That's good to hear," the man said, sounding professional despite the good news. "The contact has met with success in Bevelle. All traces are eliminated. Security is bypassed and/or compromised, the mission is go. You are clear to proceed with-"

"Incoming!" Alpha One whispered. His partner quickly killed the cell phone connection and glanced wildly around. "It might be police. Your ten o'clock."

Alpha Two glanced in the indicated direction and saw indeed that Alpha One was right. There was a small boat bearing directly at them, and moving rather fast as well. She quickly pulled out a small pair of binoculars strapped to her belt and peered through them. Even though it was night out, the surrounding lights illuminated her surroundings just enough to make out some basic details of the boat. It was white and average in size, perhaps a private schooner. It was moving relatively fast, around 15 knots or so, give or take. She could see three men standing on its deck, one at what she assumed to be the wheel and two on either side of the boat. They just appeared to be standing there.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath.

What she saw next confirmed her partner's suspicion. She tilted her binoculars to the top of the ship, where she saw several large antennas, a radar dish, and bar lights. Just as her binoculars passed over the lights, they turned on. Red, white and blue pulsated in Alpha Two's eyes as she tore the binoculars away from her face and scrambled to be ready for the cops. They would be on top of them in about two minutes, maybe more if the already gusty wind lessened. That's what the skyscape photography bit was for. Hopefully the cops would buy their story.

In what seemed to be no amount of time whatsoever, the patrol boat had pulled up alongside the small craft. Both people scanned the police boat, looking for any sign or warning that they knew of their operation. It didn't seem to be that way though; the situation appeared similar to that of a cop pulling over a speeder. They eyed the M-4 automatic rifles clutched in the officers' hands warily, however, anticipating any need to duck for cover. Normally, both agents would have carried pistols of their own on them, but in case they were to be boarded for whatever reason, a pistol would have clashed with their story as skyscape photographers.

The police officer who had been piloting the boat addressed them first. He turned on his flashlight and shined them on Alpha One and Two.

"Good evening," he said cooly. "How are you two doing today?"

"Good as can be expected when one freezes their ass off," Alpha one replied just as cooly.

"I imagine," the officer responded. "Coincidentally, that's the very reason I've come to talk to you. It's dangerous to be out here on the harbor, especially on a night like this. The wind is gusting at 60 miles an hour, more than enough to tip over a small craft such as yours, and the air temperature over the water is already in the negative teens. Can I ask you what you're doing in the harbor tonight?"

"We're photographers," Alpha Two piped up. "Skyscape, if you want to be specific about it. We figured a few pictures of the sky on a night like this would make for a good picture in a calendar series we're doing, what with tonight's storm and the city lights reflecting off the waves in Zanarkand Harbor. The snowflakes add a magnificent touch."

"Are those your cameras over there?" the officer asked, nodding to the telescopes.

"Yes they are," Alpha One responded, walking over to them so that his body blocked the officer's view of the scopes. "State-of-the-art cameras, designed to shoot pictures in any environment."

"You plan on shooting a still picture of cloud features and snowflakes on a boat that's rocking ten degrees from side to side?" The officer asked suspiciously. He shined his light on the parts of the telescopes that were not blocked by Alpha One. "And those don't look like cameras to me. They look like astronomy telescopes. My son has one that looks almost exactly like your own."

Alpha One and Alpha two glanced at each other. They had counted on the fact that they would get a cop who just wanted to check on them and make sure they were okay. That or a cop who was cold and tired and wanted to go home; that way he wouldn't linger. Or a stupid cop. There were plenty of those too. This cop, on the other hand, appeared very intelligent. Every lie had a way to be discovered, and the cop was quick to point out all the errors in the story. Even though the cameras were designed to produce a clear image with motion, the waves were still too much to produce an image of any quality. It was also a bad break that the guy was familiar with astronomy.

"Do you mind if we take a look around?" the cop asked, climbing aboard without waiting for an answer and motioning for his two counterparts to do the same. Almost robotically, they stepped onto the boat as well.

Pity the good cops were always killed.

Alpha Two looked at her partner, who nodded discreetly. As the three cops were patrolling the boat with the use of their flashlights, she slowly made her way toward the front of the boat where a small box was kept underneath a bench. Inside was their last resort- two suppressed pistols with full magazines and one spare cartridge. Beta Command discouraged the use of the pistol, as more deaths meant an increased likeliness of something incriminating being left behind, but had authorized their use if circumstances required them. This, of course, included protecting the mission's success.

"Scuba gear?" One of the cops piped up from in the wheelhouse, looking at Alpha One and chuckling. "How do you explain that?"

"Certainly we don't just use this boat during the winter," Alpha One said, as if he expected the cops to find the gear. "We don't see the need to pack and unpack this boat in accordance with the four seasons. Just prepare for all and you're set." The cop just turned around and continued to search the wheelhouse.

Meanwhile, Alpha Two had sat down, pretending to wait patiently as the police searched her boat. If the cops went up and closely looked at the telescopes and saw the batteries and trigger sticking out of the front, they would have to be killed. That was the only visible giveaway that Alpha One and Two were not who they said they were. Alpha Two slowly reached down and noiselessly opened the box containing the pistols, clasping one firmly in her right hand and gripping the silencer of the other, ready at a second's notice to throw it to her partner. She jumped slightly when she heard one of the cop's radios crackle to life. Her movement caused the guns to rattle in the box, and she looked at the cops expectantly, as if she knew they would hear the pistols. However, a particularly large white crest chose that moment to propel itself into the side of the boat, sending it reeling slightly and distracting the cops from any small noises that might have been made. She sighed in relief.

Her relief was short-lived, however. The lead cop, the cop who had done all the talking thus far, was making his way over to the telescopes, peering intently inside the viewfinder of the right one and looking through the camera lens. As she predicted, he looked bewildered when he saw nothing through the other side of the scope. He hit the telescope softly and peered through the viewfinder, tilting the telescope so that it pointed at the sky. The telescope moved roughly and he peered through the camera lens again, but still couldn't see anything.

Of course, it was difficult when there was a Stinger Missile Launcher in the way.

Alpha Two gripped the pistol in her left hand even tighter, letting the tip of her index finger gently touch the cold metal of the trigger.

If you touch the front of that telescope, you're never leaving this boat.

"Hey guys, somebody's spotted a trafficking ship five miles out," one of the other cops said sharply. It was the cop whose radio had sprung to life earlier. "We gotta go."

The lead officer turned around, attention effectively removed from the telescopes. He turned to Alpha One, who was still standing guard next to the other telescope. "If you're not out of this harbor by the time we return, we're arresting you and confiscating this boat and everything that's on it," he said sternly as the officers climbed back onto their ship. "You folks have a nice night."

And just like that, the ship was gone.

After the police were safely away from the boat, Alpha Two removed her hand from the box and dialed her contact's number again. "Police," she said. "They showed up, but were called off. We're clear. They didn't find anything."

"It's 22:33 now," the man at the other end of the line said. "You're past the target time. Execute immediately." The line went dead.

"We're go to proceed," she said to Alpha one, pocketing the cell phone. "Hurry."

She and her partner quickly stepped into the wheelhouse where it was warmer and stripped down. They tossed their clothes into a corner and quickly worked their way into the scuba gear, custom gear that was insulated for very cold waters. Luckily, that cop hadn't looked close enough to see that it wasn't used during the summer at all. After the scuba gear was affixed, they walked back out to where the telescopes were.

Alpha Two realigned the one that the lead officer had tampered with. As she did, the viewfinder passed over red neon letters, letters that spelled out and signified the logo of the Zanarkand Abes. The viewfinder went past the letters and focused on two protrusions. Both were square and could contain a small amount of people, but Alpha Two had been told the one that was supposed to be targeted. She magnified the target in her viewfinder and activated the launcher. Everything was set and ready to go.

"Set the charges," Alpha One barked.

In five minutes, there would be nothing for the Coast Guard to confiscate.

"Charges set," Alpha Two said, pressing a button on her remote detonator. "Launcher activated. Locked onto the Box."

"Launcher activated. Locked onto the Box," Alpha One repeated, training his eye on the target. "On my mark. Five. Four. Three. Two. One." As the countdown started, both wrapped their index fingers around the SML trigger.

"Fire."

~~~~~ ZFC 1.7 ~~~~~

_
Zanarkand, SIA HQ.
22:30.
Sunday, November 24._

Kinoc had the whole world at his fingertips. He could call anyone anywhere at anytime of his choosing. He knew the world, and it knew him. One could go so far as to say that he even controlled the way it worked, the way it behaved. There was some truth to it; the only other person who ranked higher than he on the entire face of the planet was Mayor Braska, whose title as head of the DASC put him above Kinoc on the proverbial totem pole. However, Braska and Kinoc had maintained a friendly working relationship, acting together in the best interest of the people and proving that government and politics indeed had the potential to be beneficial, productive and rewarding.

Yeah, right.

Snow was falling heavily outside, although in the last few days, the sight had gone from awe-inspiring and mesmerizing to commonplace and problematic. However, Kinoc still held the former view. Try as he might, he still understood that he did not hold the Supreme Power of the land. He was never much of a spiritual man, but he always was captivated by the raw power of weather and natural occurrence. It was beyond any man's scope of power or comprehension; it was the Will of the World. Moreover, tonight, it would serve as a loving touch of atmospheric irony. Absolutely nothing could dampen his mood right now. He had just received word that Auron was out of the Mayor Tower in Bevelle and his mission had been met with success. That was the riskiest part of the plan, and it was executed flawlessly and without a hitch.
His laptop beeped, and he woke the monitor with a jolt to the mouse. Glancing briefly at the screen, he saw an e-mail. It was from Paine, and was only two sentences long. The first detailed a confirmed kill of a security guard on the Tower Floor. The second was a Bikanel account number to which her payment was to be wired. The money was already ready to go, and he completed the transaction in less than two minutes– five grand for the hit and expenses. Pocket change to Kinoc, who had endless funds, both his own and that of taxpayers. Money certainly was power in a lot of ways. Almost every way.

Happiness comes from unexpected places. Kinoc found it highly amusing that he was looking forward only to hearing from three people. He had already heard from two– Auron and Paine. The only call left was from his contact in the water. She had called earlier, but the connection was unexpectedly terminated. If there was anything grating on his nerves at all, it was this loss of contact. However, it was considered. If there was any suspicious activity concerning this part of the mission, the connection was to be dropped. If this was the case, however, Kinoc hoped everything worked out for the best.

The connection light on his desk phone began to beep, and he instantly picked it up. "Yes?" he said.

"Police," said a female voice. Kinoc knew who it was. "They showed up, but were called off. We're clear. They didn't find anything."

"It's 22:33 now," Kinoc said urgently. "You're past the target time. Execute immediately." He put the phone back in its cradle.

Kinoc fought to contain his joy as he got up from his chair, reveling in the fact that his complex and daring plan had worked out as envisioned in his head. There was just one more thing to do, but this was for his sole enjoyment only. He wheeled his 2000-gil leather desk chair out from behind his mammoth desk and rolled it to the huge skyscraper windows to the northwest. He had a good view of the entire city from his 121st floor office, but he was interested in the harbor, and what was next to it.

It's strange, isn't it, how the whole world can hinge on two loyal soldiers, a desperate man, and a woman who just didn't give a shit.

~~~~~ ZFC 1.7 ~~~~~

_
Zanarkand, Abes Stadium.
22:32.
Sunday, November 24.
_

"The Abes win it! The Abes win the Northern Title Match, six to one!"

Tidus swam a victory lap around the enormous sphere pool, the pool where he had just played the best game of his life. For the first time in a very long time, his mind was preoccupied only with healthy thoughts– his team winning the Northern Title in his rookie year, and his date with Yuna later. Now, with a win under his belt, he knew exactly what he wanted to do with her. It was admittedly much the same as with any other girl: fuck her brains out and move on with life the next morning. But this time, it would be different. Tonight was special, and in a way, Tidus saw Yuna as special too. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something he liked about her, and it was ebbing away at his resolve to just have sex with her. Oh well, he could improvise. He always did anyway. And what did he care about any of this anyway? He just won his team a championship game!

By this time, his lap had taken him to the entry tunnel to his bench. He quickly swam up it, where he saw his rejoicing teammates popping and chugging bottles of beer (a Zanarkand tradition to use beer instead of champagne). They were all grins, shouting, laughing and congratulating each other by pouring alcohol over one another's heads. Tidus grabbed his own bottle, shook it up and sprayed his captain and friend, Wakka, with it. He laughed, took a swig of his own bottle, and promptly dumped the rest over Tidus's head. Tidus just flipped him off and began shouting for no reason, slamming heads with another teammate.

Then, he regained his coherence. "Dude, Wakka!" he shouted. "Do you know where Yuna is?"

"How would I know?" Wakka roared back, spraying a fellow teammate with beer. "I'd say in the Top Box, ya? People that rich usually watch the game from there."

"Thanks!" Tidus said, maneuvering his way out of the bench and into the stands.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the stadium, two young well-dressed women stood up, getting ready to leave. Their hands were sore and their throats were raw from all the clapping and cheering they did. One girl was blonde, with hair done up in many braids of assorted length held to her head by small hairclips. The other was a brunette, who wasn't focusing on the crowd or the game at this point, so much as she was looking for somebody. A certain blonde-headed sports star who had given (what she had heard was) the best performance of his young career.

"Do you think you enjoyed it more up here, in the nosebleed seats, Yunie?" the girl asked her companion.

"The Top Box didn't fit with the rest of the atmosphere," Yuna replied. "I think I was quite happy with my sporting experience in the nosebleed seats instead." She was craning her neck in every direction. "Do you see Tidus anywhere?"

"Nope," Rikku replied happily. "But I think you said that he wanted you to meet him at the East entrance to the stadium, right?"

"Yes, but I have a hunch that he's going to want to come find me right away," Yuna said, smiling. "No doubt he wants to give me a blow-by-blow account of what happened in his mind as he played the game. Also, I'm sure if I don't see him soon, I can always go to the entrance like we had planned."

"Wait! Isn't that him?" Rikku asked, pointing to Yuna's left.

Yuna whipped around, and indeed saw a young man trying desperately to cut through the traffic of fans threatening to suffocate him. Yuna cupped her hands together and shouted his name, but her voice was so hoarse and the roar of the crowd so loud that there was no chance Tidus would hear her. Yuna wondered where he was going, but saw the Top Box about 200 feet away, to her left. She assumed Tidus was heading there, so she took off in pursuit. This prompted Rikku to follow close behind, keeping a firm grip on the hood of Yuna's jacket so that they wouldn't separate.

"Oh, Yunie, I also wanted to tell you that Dad called," Rikku said. "He was drunk beyond all reason."

"Isn't he a compassionate drunk?"

"Yes, but he is when he's sober, too," she replied. "I hate it when he drinks, he gets all mushy and he forgets everything the next morning."

"Tidus!" Yuna called as best she could.

Finally having heard her, he turned around. Seeing Yuna tailing him, he grinned and started retreating from the direction of the Top Box. "Yuna!" he called, walking faster.

"Hey, Yunie, what's that noise?" Rikku asked. "It sounds like a jet engine. But it's really close!" Rikku had no time to say anything else, for the source of the noise became apparent.

22:37:04

A deafening explosion rocked the world.

Heat.

Pain.

Screams and cries. The cries of men, women and children alike, penetrating the heated air.

Blood spattering flesh, alive and dead. Yuna felt her own open, surprised mouth fill with such spatter.

Death and destruction. Debris flying at her. She ducked just in time.
A world turned upside down. Tidus was lost to her eyes. Did he call her name? Was that a chunk of wall that just struck his head? Or was it a hallucination?

Hallucination . . . if only . . . Yuna thought as she blacked out on the concrete steps of the burning stadium.

Another explosion.

Yuna didn't even hear or feel it.

22:37:06

Less than a mile away, 1500 feet above the top of the world, a smiling man's face was illuminated by two brief flashes.

Mission Complete.


Alright. How was it?

Now, here's the deal. The month of August marks the start of my job. I will most likely not be working on my story at any time during August, and will hope that I can find time somewhere once my last year of high school commences. I'll make time, don't worry. The good news is that I have no clue where to begin chapter eight, so a month of work will give me plenty of time to think.

REMEMBER: Be sure to check my bio for regular updates. I'm pretty vigilant in keeping information posted at reasonable intervals there, so if anything is in question regarding my stuff, check there. You'll likely find the answer. And as always, you can Private Message me for anything else, even if it's just to chat.

Also, remember to leave your comments or critique in a review. I love to see them. Please review.

Alright. Part One is over. I will see you eventually, and we'll all see what happens to the characters. Until that time, have a good one.

SirGecko