Chapter 11 – Last ace in the deck

A/N: Apologies for the long hiatus _ I've taken on more things than I can handle in college, and everything is just jam-packed with explosions and falling apart, but no, I haven't forgotten about the fic. :)

Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing and reading! :D

Without waiting for Weiss, she kicked off first, igniting the nitrous burners on her skyboard. It shot upwards, buoyed by a gust of pale blue flame, and was almost immediately cut down by a volley of gold energy bursts. Clearly, the WRO weren't taking any chances. And neither was she.

Sab swerved sharply, dropping down away to the left, and the ploy worked. The beams shot by overhead, turning to fizzle out in mass of harmless gold sparks as they dissipated. She dropped into a low crouch, drawing the IMIs from their holsters just in time to ward off another bruising attack from a passing WRO drone. Apparently, Reno and Rude's diversion hadn't only taken out the guards at the main gate; they'd raised enough hell to bring the entire WRO division posted in Nibelheim after both her and Weiss.

Tseng's voice came on air, faint, crackly and riddled with static, "Touchdown in five, four, three – "

The connection wavered and broke altogether as an armoured WRO cruiser screeched up to her right, tyres screeching and turret rotating to lock its sights on her. Shit. The enemy was well on the move already, and probably – heck, definitely, ten steps ahead of them. Comms were jammed, and the calvary wasn't going to come over the next hill guns a-firing. This was it, pure and simple. They were on their on.

"Drop your weapons and cease fire. Repeat, drop your weapons and cease fire. You are trespassing on WRO territory. We don't want to hurt you, but – "

A pre-recorded voice cut across the roar of the wind, the standard WRO warning, taught to all green horns on the first day of training. In the worst case scenario, maim but not kill. Never kill. They were enforcers of the law, not brute mercenaries. Or so Tuesti's impassioned speech had been.

"We will if we have to." She grinned mirthlessly, finishing off the sentence.

But today was different. Today she'd been betrayed. Today she'd lost all trust in everything. Today, the very same agency that had fostered her teammates had led them all like lambs to the slaughter. And so today would hold no mercy. Not from her, not ever again.

The red glow of Summon materia was already forming in her left fist, raised up in the air. The air shuddered and coalesced as something was drawn out of it void, returning to consciousness and fury at being so rudely wrenched out from its aeons-long sleep. Sleipnir screamed to life, eight legs effortlessly finding purchase on thin air as it hurled itself forward; Odin iron-helmed astride its back. Silver limned the air as he drew his blade. It danced, drawing blood and shattering bone and bringing time to complete standstill. Then he faded altogether, leaving death hanging in his wake.

"The shit, Artimieva!" Weiss drew up alongside her, stunned at the neatly-halved corpses strewn below them.

"Just giving Ryden a reunion present especially from me." She clicked the materia back into its slot, eyes scanning the battlefield. "Now let's go. Time enough wasted."

"You – " For once, the Emperor was lost for words. He shot a worried glance at her retreating back, then, more cautiously, edged his skyboard into gear. Nero would never have done that, he knew. The strange intensity in her eyes that bordered almost on obsession frightened him. It reminded him almost of Hojo, ages and ages ago. When Omega… No. But it couldn't be, could it? Oblivion was nowhere strong as Omega. It was only a fragment of Chaos, a pale reflection of its original. And yet… The ease with which the girl channeled Oblivion was unprecedented. She was far more adept at controlling shadows than Nero had ever been, or would ever be. Or was it the other way around; that Oblivion was using her?

He bit his lip agitatedly even as he parried a stop-thrust and ran yet another WRO veteran through with his gunblade. So many questions, yet the answers were painfully lacking. And worse, he had absolutely no idea exactly what they were heading straight into.

Reeve Tuesti was not having a good day. First, he'd been framed. For lots of things, none of which he actually knew about, and all of which he had no plausible answers for. Second, that sneaking, conniving, lying, evil son of a gun Ryden had taken over his WRO. Third, he'd been abducted forcibly by unnamed captors. Fourth, Cait Sith was nowhere to be found. And the list could go on and on. For example, his nose was frozen and his wrists were numb. And there were countless splinters digging into him all over.

So when the blindfold was ripped off abruptly to reveal blinding light, he laid into the nearest person within earshot, "Screw you! I don't know anything, I don't have anything, and you're bloody fucking welcome to the shitstorm I'm stuck in right now! I-"

He paused to draw breath and new insults to vilify his kidnappers with.

"Mr. Tuesti, I assure you, I could not be more reluctant to take on the utter mess that constitutes the WRO right now." The voice was all too familiar and none too welcome, to Reeve's utter dismay.

"Well, why on sweet Gaia would I not be surprised, it's Rufus ShinRa! If you were looking for a position within the WRO and an appointment with me, you could have just contacted me. By the orthodox ways of doing things, not espionage, blackmail, framing – but they're all just down your cosy little street, aren't they?" He growled irritably, blinking his watering eyes.

Behind him, someone sniggered.

"Please, Mr. Tuesti, calm down. Rude, untie him." Rufus was infuriatingly composed as usual, which only served to set Reeve on edge.

"Explain." The word left his lips soaked with anger and irritation. "I want to know what exactly – "

Rufus steepled his fingers on the table, looking for all the world as if Reeve was a petulant child and he, the world-weary parent tired of repeating things, "I'm helping you. As I always have."

"As you - What?" the Comissioner stared back, uncomprehending.

"You didn't think the donations came from thin air, did you?" ShinRa sighed, "They came direct from my bank account, Reeve. Think!"

"But they came from– " he spluttered vainly, struggling to come to terms with the earthshaking fact that Rufus ShinRa had been the one funding the WRO all this time, and he hadn't even realised.

"Disparate accounts, all by anonymous well-wishers, all credited regularly, all running into the millions." Rufus finished smoothly, "It was an investment which I had hoped wouldn't sour. I keep tabs on where my money goes, you know. It's only fair that way."

"You mean you were spying on me!" Reeve thumped the table agitatedly. "Rufus, you've really gone one step too far this time!"

The blond waved off his rebuke, "I needed you to rebuild. The people would have never accepted offers of help from a ShinRa, not even if they were dying. You raised entire cities again, Reeve, and re-established the networks that linked them all together. The money I gave you opened up new pathways, for both the people and myself. You can't deny that. As for what part I play in this; I need to safeguard what I've got. If Ryden wins, I lose everything."

Rufus looked at him evenly, "You needn't be afraid; you'll be safe here. I've sent… people to terminate Ryden. He won't be a threat for long. But if they fail, we die."

The other man was right, Tuesti knew. As much as he hated Rufus, Reeve couldn't stand by and watch Ryden single-handedly bring down all he and his friends had done to salvage the Planet. Rufus had him. Reeve would do anything to ensure the survival of the WRO and all it stood for. Equality. Justice. Freedom. Peace. All of which the Planet needed, and all of which could be easily erased with a single, debilitating swipe. He would agree, because it was his only other option.

Torn by conflicting emotions, Reeve could hardly speak, "And… and the price?"

The disgraced president smiled, "That will be my asking. You needn't worry. I'll call for the bill when I need it."

And all Reeve could think of, locked away Shiva-knew-where face to face with a cunning paralytic, numbed by cold, fear, anxiety and exhaustion was the sheer irony of what he was doing. He'd done exactly what he'd sworn never to do – hand back control of everything, to the man who'd destroyed it all in the very first place. And there was not a single damned thing he could do about it.