Bullet Catchers

By Jazzbo22

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: Many heartfelt apologies for making you wait several months for this next installment. As some of you may know, I was finishing the last year of a very difficult and time consuming degree. It is done now, woo! And I have a Bachelor's. I am considering going for a Master's in the fall, but I won't bore you with the details right now. I merely want to say THANK YOU for reading up til now, and your inspiring interest in my writing! It is so exciting for me that ALL OF YOU are excited to see what happens next. Stay tuned as this starts to wrap up, as I have some ideas floating around for future fics I would love to share. I am thinking of putting up a blog/deviant art account to showcase some art and stories - does that interest any of you? ANYWAYS! Let's get on to the reading!

ALSO (sorry, I promise to be quiet soon) it has come to my attention after reading this through online that my page breaks have been erased. I think. So I will get on correcting that as soon as I can. I hope it doesn't make the reading of this too hard as it switches scenes.

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Chapter Twelve

The slums were the shit pile of the world. Rude couldn't imagine a worse place to live on earth. To think that Reno came from there – worse even. It was disgusting. If you were born into the slums, chances were you'd stay there until you die. And death came early in a place like this – Reno was in his mid-twenties, and if he had stayed, he wouldn't have lived to see sixteen.

Rude was in an area dubbed the 'classy slums'. The whores could afford to wear tight leather skirts, the drug lords weren't out in the open. Children were allowed to play on the streets. No parts in the slums were safe, but here were the lesser of two evils.

Maneuvering the Mercedes through narrow streets, Rude drew his attention back to what put him there in the first place. Disposing of Heidegger was just business – he had been his boss since Rude first started with Shinra, and so because of that he had wondered if he'd feel any sadness in his death. Strangely enough, all he felt was emptiness. Tseng had always been the true leader of the Turks, and since Heidegger dared to mess with that, he had deserved what came to him.

Sasha Maksim though. A name he had forgotten, she meant nothing. She was as insignificant as the secretaries that part-timed with Shinra. Rude would've bet on his life that she didn't have the guts or the brains to head this operation. That was probably the main reason she had gotten so far in her efforts – no one would've ever thought she was capable of such a thing. The SOLDIERs working with her were a frightening prospect, since they were all mako-enhanced, disgraced goons, but they couldn't stop bullets. You could drop them. The problem was – three injured Turks against seven healthy SOLDIERs. The odds weren't in their favour. It would be nice to have some cure materia handy.

Rude was glad for the Mercedes. People moved out of the way for him. He doubted that Sasha would be where he was headed, but it was worth looking. But if he was wrong, and she was actually there…Rufus really needed them right now. Rude wouldn't be able to wait until Tseng and Reno arrived, he would have to go in on his own.

Usually fear didn't come to him, but right now he had an icy ball in his stomach. He was confident of his abilities, considering he was one of the best fighters in Shinra, but against seven SOLDIERs? Rude would get his ass handed to him.

The place that Reno had marked off was a block away. If the shit was going to hit the fan, Rude could at the very least thank his lucky stars he had spent some extra time with Reno. It was not the ideal situation – ideal would've meant hours satisfying himself with the aggravating, foul-mouthed, expert-mouthed redhead, but he would take what he could get. If this was the end. That icy ball felt heavier now. Suddenly his life up til now felt too short. Damn, he wanted to live.

Reality check. Rude mentally smacked himself. He needed to go into this mission with a clear mind. He was already getting fatal, whereas Rufus, who was younger than him, and currently a hostage, might be bleeding out his last breath.

Parking the Mercedes in an alley, Rude stepped out, blending with the shadows. He glided effortlessly along the back roads, closing the distance between himself and his destination. He left the car far enough away that if Sasha had a patrol out, they wouldn't see it. He hoped.

The house was dark. Rude didn't have a clear view into the windows, but he sensed no movement. They wouldn't be upstairs conducting their business though, with the curtains wide open. Sasha had shown amazing discretion up until now, and she wouldn't begin to broadcast Rufus' whereabouts.

Scaling the side of the small building, he tried the back door. Locked. No problem though. The locks on slum houses were far less advanced than the one he and Tseng jimmied on Heidegger's place. With the flick of a wrist, the door opened with a mild creak. Gun ready, Rude cleared the door and slunk low into the darkness, large body as graceful as a feline.

No sounds at all. Not even hushed voices. Rude cleared the top floor as a safety precaution. It appeared that this was Sasha's permanent residence. Womanly things were scattered along the bathroom counter – perfumes, hairbrushes, make-up compacts – and lingerie littered her bedroom floor. From the looks of things, she made sure not to leave a trace of her menacing plans around. No blueprints, no discriminating phone numbers or private envelopes. This was not a place of private business for her. It was just a home.

Making quick work of the main floor, Rude took the stairs to the basement as quietly and quickly as possible. His calf screamed in protest, Rude clenching his teeth to manage the pain. He could worry about a relaxed recovery later – now was not the time to focus on his injuries.

Eyes adjusting to the poor lighting, he saw nothing of interest. No one was home. Which meant…

Reno and Tseng were possibly walking into the lions den. The fearless Turk leader, with a hole in his shoulder, plus a number of scratches and bruises, and Reno, who still had a gash in his forehead. God, neither one was healthy enough to be on a mission like this.

Rufus could be worse, at this point. And he was the most important person. Rude knew, when he first joined the Turks, that he had to be ready to sacrifice his life for the President's safety. Well, here they all were now, and the President needed them. They had a job to do.

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Sasha was waiting for something specific, Rufus had realized. If she wanted him dead immediately, it would've happened already. What she was waiting for – he couldn't figure it out yet. It seemed unlikely she was waiting for anyone's approval. After talking with her, if you could call it that, Rufus knew without a doubt that she was spearheading this entire thing. She was working for herself. She wasn't waiting for the 'O.K.' from a higher up.

So what was it then? Maybe she wanted to broadcast his assassination on national – international news. That would most certainly strike a crippling fear into the people's hearts. Someone taking out the President of the largest and most powerful company in the world – it would guarantee that she had everyone's attention, and make it easier for her to declare herself the new President. No one would argue, they'd be too afraid.

Sasha had left the room for several minutes now, and Rufus wished she would come back. He wanted to know what she was up to. When she was with him, she was a nuisance, smacking him around and talking shit. But now that she was gone…she was dangerous. No second guessing that. At least when she was with him she wasn't talking to the men just outside the room. Very angry, very lethal men.

The good thing in having her gone was it left Rufus to consider his escape. He grabbed the chain of the handcuffs to stop them from clattering against the steel rail of the bed frame. He didn't want Sasha – or worse, one of her SOLDIER shitheads storming into the room to see what the noise was about.

Gripping the rail tightly, he yanked it hard. Slight movement, nothing more. But something was better than nothing, and he wasn't about to sit around waiting for help. Every second counted. Again he pulled, the pipe showing minimal give.

After this, he was going to be turned off bondage for awhile. Not that he was big on bondage to begin with, but this definitely soured his tastes. Well, if Tseng had him tied up, that could be an entirely different story. Or vice versa.

Better thoughts for a better time. Right now Rufus couldn't distract himself, even though he'd like nothing more than to be back in Tseng's apartment, preferably in his bed. After those short kisses, he longed for something more, and he was not about to die before he got what he wanted. All his life he'd been cheated out of himself, the true things he wanted, what he felt – he wasn't going to let that revenge-seeking bitch take his life as well. She thought she'd been put in the shitter – she should've lived his life. At least she had a youth, a choice in career, a choice in who she loved. She wasn't confined the way he had been, polished into a perfect heir of Shinra.

Fuck her. Sasha wasn't going to take the one thing that was ultimately his own – his goddamn life. Stupid bitch was going to feel his wrath, as soon as he could free himself. Pulling again, Rufus felt his heart settle into a new determination. They were going to try to kill him, and he was going to fight. Not lie down and take it like a weakling.

The bar was moving, much to Rufus' pleasure. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to give him hope. If Sasha stayed away for a few more minutes, he could get out of the bed, hide behind the door, and choke her with the chain of the 'cuffs. Hopefully she would go down quickly.

When she was in the room before, she had only been armed with brass knuckles, no gun. She could be a good shot, but she wouldn't be as good as him. If he could get his hands on a gun, he'd be fine. If he could. The men in the hallway could be armed, and he might be able to take one down, but the other would be on him in an instant. That was, if there were only two SOLDIERs outside. There could be more.

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Tseng slipped his PHS back into his blazer, eyes straight ahead. Reno glanced at him from behind the wheel.

"It's us."

"It's us."

Rude had just called, informing Tseng that the house was empty. Which meant that both he and Reno were heading right into the hotspot. Rude would be a good ten minutes behind them. And as Tseng found after years in the profession – ten seconds is a damn long time for shit to go down, much less ten minutes.

"Boss, it's going to get ugly. Seven fucking ex-SOLDIERs, all with a hate-on for Shinra."

"Then we'll have to be especially careful." Tseng was all too aware of the risk they were taking. If Sasha knew anything, and it seemed she did, she would make sure the Turks had to cut down her meat wall of SOLDIERs before reaching her and Rufus. Sasha was not a fighter herself, but give anyone a gun or a knife, and they were deadly. She could cut Rufus right open before Tseng had a chance to reach him. That was, if he managed to take down her bodyguards. Two against seven. Tseng didn't want to think about the outcome.

"We should walk from here." Reno pulled over, concealing the car between rundown shacks. They were in one of the most gritty, dangerous neighbourhoods of the slums. Here the people were too fucked out of their mind on drugs to care about the symbolic Mercedes or the navy uniforms. They needed gil to support their fix. Nothing else mattered. Tseng and Reno had to be especially careful. He wasn't nervous of muggers – a quick crack of the wrist and they'd run screaming, but neither of them could afford drawing attention to themselves. From here on in, they had to be quiet, be the predators.

Rufus could be dying, or worse, gone already. He needed his Turks to continue on with extreme discretion. Every movement mattered. Every second counted.

Drawing his pistol, Reno right behind him, Tseng crept along, the target within eyesight. The place looked like a shithole from far away, Tseng could only imagine the interior. Pausing to take cover behind a dilapidated building, Tseng kept his eye trained on the door. With a quick flick of his finger, Reno covered his right. They both hovered, eyes focused on the shack and surrounding area.

"Movement, coming around the front." Reno whispered, motioning with his gun. Tseng saw him too – he was one of the faces Reno had forwarded along. An ex-SOLDIER who should've been in prison, but had been freed. He was dressed like a usual slum-dweller, probably meant to throw them off their trail.

"And he's wearing Kevlar. Wow. I actually have to aim. What do you want to do Tseng? Want me to drop him?" Tseng watched. There was movement inside the building too. Reno could take him out, his aim was straight and steady, but then the rest of them inside would see.

"We need a concealed angle. They can't see or know we're here." Tseng whispered back. He was watching intently – this could be done. They just needed to proceed with caution. Reno nodded slightly.

Then Tseng saw it.

"I'm going to move up, keep your eye on the target. When I give you the sign, finish him." Without looking for confirmation, Tseng moved forward, blending seamlessly into the shadows, working his way closer.

It had been so long since he had done field work like this, he had begun to forget what it felt like. His exterior was cool, concentrated, but inside his heart pounded, his ears drummed. He had started to perspire lightly, small beads forming along his dark brow. His hands were steady though, as was his sharp eye. Tseng was a trained professional, a deadly assassin. That SOLDIER would never see him coming.

Molding himself against the building, Tseng stayed low, under the windows. Just to know he was merely feet from Rufus sent a chill up his spine. He hoped that the young President was still alive and well- just thinking about it made his blood run cold. If they hurt him…

He couldn't dwell on the what ifs. He just had to concentrate on the now, and currently that meant taking out the outdoor patrol. Turning briefly, he caught Reno's eye. Showtime.

Surging forward, still keeping low, he rounded the corner, inches from the ex-SOLDIER. Tseng briefly heard the parting of air before the bullet struck inbetween the eyes of the con. He caught the man with grace before pulling his body against a far wall. Never saw it coming. No one had seen or heard anything.

One down, six, with the exception of Sasha, to go.

Reno followed the same path as Tseng, snaking along clutter and taking cover against buildings. Crouching against their destination, Reno smirked darkly.

"Here we go."

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Rufus heard Sasha's voice only moments before she reappeared again. Lucky too – if she had seen what he was doing, she'd beat the shit out of him. Or kill him. He had been so close though. The rail had moved substantially. Rufus hoped she wouldn't notice. He just had to keep her engaged, keep the attention on his face, and hope that her eyes didn't wander too much.

"You should know how pathetic you look. It's sad really." She laughed humourlessly. Rufus gave her his best arrogant smirk.

"You should know how pathetic you are." She glared, fists tightening again. And she thought she could run the company…how? Her temper was on a short leash, all he had to do was tug slightly and she was ready to explode.

"Every minute my Turks get closer and closer to finding you. You don't stand a chance." Keep her focused on him. Rufus willed her eyes to lock with his. So far, so good. She gave him her version of an arrogant smirk. Or whatever that was.

"I'm counting on it. I'm looking forward to having them watch as I slit your godforsaken throat and do away with Shinra blood forever." Was that what she was waiting for? Waiting until Tseng, Reno, and Rude came? Rufus felt eerily cold.

"And don't think I don't know about their injuries. I made it happen. Would've preferred that they were already dead, but that can wait until I finish with you. Or, would you like to see their throats slit, knowing that by saving you they threw their lives away? Would that be better?" She was serious. Rufus looked for a waver in her stare, or a small fidget – nothing. She really was a stone-cold bitch.

"You fuck." Rufus spat, feeling that chill run straight to his bones. He couldn't watch Tseng die. She smiled, coming closer.

"What, did I hit something there? Nerves of steel President Shinra reacts strongly to that. Don't you?" She ran her hand up the side of Rufus' abused face. He tried to pull away, but she gripped him tighter.

"Don't like the idea of me wasting your precious Turks? Or one in particular? I don't care much for the redhead myself, he has 'used' written all over him. Probably slutted himself out before coming to Shinra anyways. The bald one is pretty cute, can't see him being your type though. You were living with Tseng. You like that one, don't you? He is quite a catch, a very handsome, strong man. You like getting fucked by that? Does he take you rough, or is he gentle?"

Rufus felt his blood boil over. Sasha wanted this, she wanted a rise out of him. He'd be damned if he was going to give it to her.

"I suppose you'd really like to know, considering you'd never be able to handle anything up your tight ass except my father's small dick. Did that feel good? It sure must've hurt when he threw you out on your ass, that you weren't even good enough for an obese man who has to pop pills to get it up."

Rufus watched with satisfaction as her features darkened, knowing that he'd twisted the knife a little deeper. She wanted to hurt him? He could give it right back.

"You are dead." She seethed, standing briskly. Rufus could imagine it took all of her strength not to choke him right there.

Turning to regard him, her eyes wandered to the headboard. To the horribly out-of-place rail…maybe she didn't see it.

"What the fuck?" Sasha had seen it. Shit, shit, shit. Now or never. Pulling hard, his cuffed hands slipped free, the crack of the rail echoing through the room. It seemed much louder than it should've been. Disregarding it, knowing he only had seconds to spare, Rufus was up quickly. Her eyes widened significantly, and she clambered to put some space between them.

"Oh my god…" Then Rufus realized why the railing had been so loud. It wasn't the headboard that cracked, it was a window. He heard the sound of shattering glass from outside the room, combined with the startled shouts of the ex-SOLDIERs. The Turks, his Turks had finally come.

"You're going down, you crazy bitch."