Sorry for the long delay, and thank you very much to everyone who has reviewed.

The next two chapters are really one chapter that got out of hand, so forgive me if this one ends rather abruptly. All will be explained in Part Two, which should be posted in the next few days.

Everybody sing: "We're all going on a summer holiday / No more worries for a week or two"...

Only - these are the Shin-Ra guys, so no more worries for - ooh - about five minutes, maybe?

Please R&R.

Rufus 14, Reno 18

In Costa del Sol - Part One

Rude glanced at his watch, but said nothing. Beside him Lex ran a hand through short blond hair and muttered, "He's late."

Standing a little apart from the two Turks, Rufus Shinra turned from his contemplation of the new darkly gleaming B-3 Arrow Class helicopter, and looked at them. "I'm in no hurry," he shrugged. "I hate Costa del Sol." The boy's tone was flat – his lack of interest genuine rather than assumed teenaged indifference. "Honestly – what's the point of sitting on a beach…" Rufus' voice tailed off, too wearied by the prospect of the upcoming holiday to bother with the question. He knew perfectly well that any sitting on beaches he might do would be scheduled into a packed programme of highly organized sporting and social events. He could already picture most of the faces – people selected from his father's contacts – approved families, with their beautiful, identikit, approved daughters… Rufus had been on a handful of holidays in his life – two weeks mostly spent shopping in Junon with his mother, and a few summer breaks and winter ski trips with his father – or, at least, with his father's bodyguards. The people were always the same, the conversations were always the same, and as he'd grown up, the flattery was always the same too: Such a good-looking boy - so mature - so talented.

Already so bored by all of it.

The elevator doors hissed open, and Reno stepped out into the hazy light, hands raised in a gesture of mock surrender.

"Yeah, yeah – I'm late – I know!" he called, eyes on Rude, barely sparing Rufus a glance. "I was – ah – unavoidably detained."

Rude scanned Reno's more than usually crumpled suit – the dark stain on his sleeve - and nodded, but his only comment was, "Let's go."

Lex looked over at Rufus and was arrested by the transformation of the boy's formerly sullen demeanour. Rufus' eyes were suddenly bright – his expression almost eager.

"You!" Rufus said, staring at the red-haired Turk. "You're my pilot?"

Rude, who had turned towards Rufus, curious at the unexpected exclamation, could almost feel Reno's internal flinch at the weight of entitlement contained in the boy's automatic my. Over the last two-and-a-half years Reno had settled into his new life – had accepted much of what it meant to be a Shin-Ra Turk - embracing most of what the job entailed with the unrestrained enthusiasm that made him popular with his colleagues when it didn't drive them to distraction. But Rude knew his partner well. There was something in Reno – an instinctive rebellion bred out of life in the slums – which, when sparked, made him kick against authority; even the authority of those he respected as much as Veld and Tseng. Rufus could have no idea that his casually possessive words would be incendiary.

Rude didn't have to look back at Reno to know how his partner's green eyes would have narrowed fractionally; how he would be struggling to keep his expression calm, biting back some sarcastic retort. A year ago, Reno would probably have failed at it: now Rude was relieved to hear the neutral-seeming reply: "Yeah, I'm the pilot."

Rude turned as Reno strode past. Reno favoured Rufus with the slightest of nods and said, "All set?" Before Rufus could reply, Reno added, "Then let's go, yo!" and headed for the helicopter, leaving the president's son to follow in his wake.

To Lex's surprise Rufus Shinra made no comment, but walked swiftly after the cocky redhead. The blond Turk noted with interest that the boy's eyes had lost none of their brightness.

When they reached the helicopter Rufus turned back to Lex and asked, "Can I ride in the cockpit? I'd like to see how it's done – flying one of these. I've been on a few flights – but I always had to sit in the back."

Lex smiled at the boy's hopeful expression, but said, "Comes to that, pilot's the boss. Ask Reno."

"Reno." After seven years Rufus had a name to go with the face that had somehow imprinted itself onto his memory. A boy who could make a skateboard fly: a man who could fly helicopters.

Rufus climbed the steps to the cockpit and leaned in. Reno looked across at him from the pilot's seat. The Turk didn't smile. Removing his headset, he asked, "What's up?"

"I'd like to learn how to fly," Rufus said. "Can I watch?" Used to eliciting the desire to please in most of the adults he met simply by virtue of being his father's son, Rufus was a little unnerved by the Turk's cool gaze. Reno appeared to be less than enthusiastic about the idea of giving an impromptu flying lesson. After a silence that threatened to turn uncomfortable, Reno shrugged and said, "Don't see why not." He gestured to the seat beside him and said, "Strap yourself in. Don't touch anything."

Rufus nodded and did as he was told. Reno pointed to the headset hanging on the partition behind the seat and said, "Put that on if you value your hearing, yo!"

Silently, Rufus obeyed. Reno called back, "Rude? Lex? We good to go?"

In his right ear Rufus heard Lex's "Sure thing!" and Rude's low, "Ready." Reno glanced at Rufus and said, "You want real lessons, you're gonna have to clear it with your old man and Veld. I'm just showing you the basics here." The president's son nodded. He sat quietly, watching Reno running through his final checks - flicking switches and reading instruments that meant next to nothing to Rufus.

"So," said Reno, indicating the controls with a lazy wave of his left hand, "Main controls – cyclic – think of it as a joystick more or less – left, right, nose up, nose down. Only – up and down you need to think of more like slow and fast, with up – that's pulling back on the cyclic – making you climb, but slowing you down, and down – pushing the stick forward – making you descend while speeding you up. Clear?"

"Uh – not really…" replied Rufus, turning a rather narrow gaze on Reno, suspecting he was being deliberately confusing.

"You'll get it when we're moving. So – you're controlling speed with the cyclic, okay? But for lift you use the collective – here." Reno pointed to a lever at his left hand side. That's simpler – up's up, and down's down. And lastly –" The Turk gestured downwards, pointing at his boots – "Yaw pedals – or anti-torque pedals. Take your pick with what you wanna call them. They control the tail rotor. When we're flying they keep the chopper in a straight line. When we hover you use them to turn left and right – but you don't have to worry about hovering yet."

"Why not?"

Reno shot Rufus a wolfish grin. "'Cause if you try and hover before you know what you're doing, you'll crash and die."

"I see." Rufus began to wonder if Reno was slightly insane. He wasn't sure that he'd managed to follow any of the Turk's explanations, but he ran through the terms in his head – cyclic, collective, anti-torque – and resolved to watch and learn what he could from his crazy and reluctant instructor.

As soon as they were airborne though, Reno's attitude changed entirely. Leaving the smog of Midgar behind them they ascended into brightness and brilliant blue. Rufus blinked, eyes watering. He noticed that Reno's goggles remained firmly on his forehead. There was a little, contented smile playing over the Turk's lips as he nudged the controls with gentle movements. "See," he said softly, "It's all about how everything works together. It's not a thing you can explain in words – it's just – how it feels. How she responds. No chopper's the same as any other." Reno grinned to himself, and seemed to be on the point of adding something else, but thought better of it.

"Looking forward to the vacation?" he asked instead, as if changing the subject.

Rufus snorted. "No. It's a pointless waste of time. My father's only sending me to divert the press from his stupid honeymoon."

Reno nodded, feeling some sympathy. The boy was right – Tseng had told them as much in the mission briefing. Julius Shinra's second wife, Honoria, was a well-connected, impeccably bred woman much closer to the president's own age than Lucia had been. She was not beautiful, but confident and stylish: not romantic, but practical, and a good sportswoman who hunted and skied. No-one was quite sure why Julius had decided to marry her, or she him, but a wedding was a wedding, and the press attention had been intense ever since the announcement of their engagement. Half the press had descended upon Icicle Inn as soon as the honeymoon destination had been announced; the other half was even now en-route to Costa del Sol to bag photos of Rufus Shinra on holiday.

Rufus sighed. He knew exactly the kinds of pictures and articles that would be filling the papers and news reports in the next two weeks. Any girl – or boy for that matter – that he talked to would be portrayed as a potential life-partner; anything he said would be analysed and gossiped over; anything he wore would be critiqued. There were entire wardrobes of clothes back in Midgar - free gifts from top designers desperate to see photographs of him wearing their labels appearing in the glossy magazines and fashion pages. He'd worked out that just using the 'gifts' he'd been sent in the ten days since the holiday had been announced, he would be able to wear a different pair of swimming shorts every twenty-six and a half minutes, if he felt so inclined.

Which he didn't, in the slightest.

Rufus also knew that the press interest was only going to intensify as he got older. He'd seen the endless photos, postcards, magazine spreads, posters and who knew what else, that were published every week using Sephiroth's image. He wondered how the SOLDIER First Class could stand it.

"The press will be everywhere," he said, frowning.

"Yup. But don't worry. Tseng's had words with the editors. Once you're inside any building you're off limits."

"Never seems to stop them with Sephiroth," pointed out Rufus with a little shrug. Reno laughed. "Yeah – but Shin-Ra wants Sephiroth constantly on display. Hell – P.R. sends him on photo-shoots."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I know – I couldn't believe it either – 'til I had to fly him to some place in the desert four or five months back, and they had him posing in front of this giant cactus like some godsdamned fashion model…"

"You've met Sephiroth?" Rufus couldn't quite keep the awed tone from his voice. "What's he like?"

"Quiet. Kinda … still and… weirdly polite. Gaia knows he must be patient! All those idiots were running round him – stand here, do that again, look up more… And he just did it all without a word, and everyone acted like they'd forgotten that if he wanted, he could kill them all without breaking a sweat. If it was me, I'd'a lost it with them after about five minutes." Reno laughed. "But then, no-one's gonna be taking pictures of me, yo! Good thing about being a Turk – no-one looks past the uniform."

"Lucky you!"

"Yeah. Some days…"

They flew in silence for a while, and Rufus noticed the small smile return to Reno's mouth.

"You love this, don't you?" Rufus said suddenly. "Flying, I mean."

"Yeah. Best thing." Reno didn't elaborate. Rufus remembered, four years ago now, spending an entire night playing the piano, lost in the music, oblivious to everything else. He wondered if his expression then had been like Reno's when the Turk was flying – purely…happy. Reno was lucky to have a job that let him do the thing he loved most.

Reno pulled up on the – what was it again? - the collective – and Rufus suddenly noticed the dark stain on the sleeve of his jacket. The unfastened cuff of the Turk's white shirt was just visible, and there were stains on that too – stains that were rust-red.

"Did you know you have blood on your clothes?" Rufus asked, shocked. Reno looked down and shrugged. "Yeah? Occupational hazard. Being a Turk ain't just flying, yo."

"What happened?"

"Someone tried to get past security above the sixtieth floor. He wasn't cooperative about leaving."

"Who was it? A Wutaian agent?"

Reno shook his head. "Need-to-know only."

Rufus thought about sulking, glanced at the Turk and changed his mind. Reno didn't seem the sort to be impressed by anything much – let alone teenaged moodiness. Rufus turned to look out of the window. The faded, dusty browns and yellows of the desert surrounding Midgar had been left behind, replaced by the soft green of grasslands. Rufus's eyes followed the snaking meanders of a river – silver, mirror-bright. The muffled staccato beat of the rotor blades thrummed in his ears despite the protection given by the headset, and made him think of music. He remembered Reno seven years ago, the skateboard secure beneath his feet even in flight, tracing arcs though the air as he jumped and turned. He pictured the blades of the helicopter turning above them, responding to Reno's instinctive control, slicing air precisely in ways Rufus didn't understand – that seemed to him as mysterious as materia magic.

"When I was seven, I saw you skateboarding," said Rufus. He was surprised when Reno only nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

"You do?"

"Yeah." Reno said nothing else. He was remembering that day – what had happened after – memories of his mom and the hospital all tied in with killing Shaw, and the three people since then. And other things he'd done… things he'd questioned - until he'd learned not to. The kid this morning – not a terrorist, or a Wutaian spy – just some crazed Sephiroth wannabe, refusing to accept that SOLDIER wasn't interested in recruiting him, demanding to see the president. Stupid kid would've been sent on his way with nothing worse than a bloody nose and a warning, but just as Reno had been passing, the boy had tried to take a young, female secretary hostage, armed with a glass water bottle he'd snatched from a desk and smashed. Now he was in the cells with a broken arm, and Veld would be deciding what to do with him when he got back from Icicle Inn… No, being a Turk wasn't just about flying helicopters. Rufus saw Reno's mouth harden, green eyes narrowing, and reached his own, wrong, conclusions.

"Gaia," he mused, "He must've thought I was such an uptight rich-kid! In that stupidly big car… Gods, I was probably wearing a suit –" Rufus turned his face to the window again, flushing, angry with himself for caring what Reno might have thought then - what he might be thinking now. "He's just a Turk," Rufus told himself. "It doesn't matter what he thinks. He's my pilot and my bodyguard. He's just the same as Rude, or Veld, or any of them. Why should I give a damn about what he thinks?" Rufus would have been mortified to know that Reno wasn't thinking anything about him at all.

They flew for miles without speaking, Rufus staring at the slowly changing landscape beneath them, and Reno letting his mind drift; losing himself again in the pleasure of flight. After a while Rufus began to concentrate on the subtle changes in motion as Reno balanced the airspeed and altitude. When the helicopter rolled to the right slightly as the Turk made a slight course adjustment, Rufus observed, "It's like… Like we're hanging from an invisible wheel made by the blades. It tilts, and we tilt under it." Reno looked at him and nodded. Rufus suddenly felt his spirits lift as the Turk said, "That's it. You can feel it now, huh?" His tone was suddenly warmer.

"Yes."

"Textbooks call it the rotor disk – the wheel you're imagining. Maybe you should ask your old man about lessons."

"I will. I'd like to learn."

They said little to each other for the rest of the flight, but Rufus sensed that the atmosphere had become more relaxed.

When they touched down in Junon, where President Shinra's second largest yacht, Mako Marine, was waiting to transport them to Costa del Sol, Rufus turned to Reno and said, "Thank you. I can see why you love flying." Reno looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "You're welcome, kid. I've had worse passengers, yo!"

Rufus felt an entirely disproportionate surge of pride at the Turk's mild approval. As Lex escorted him to the yacht, Rude waited for Reno to finish his post-flight checks, watching Rufus striding along beside the blond Turk, head up, talking animatedly. He looked like a different person from the sulky boy who'd been waiting on the roof of the Shin-Ra building claiming to hate Costa del Sol. When Reno emerged from the cockpit Rude asked, "What happened? Way you were when we set off, I thought you couldn't stand him!"

"Ah – he's not such a bad kid. Bit uptight maybe…" Reno grinned. "Probably just needs a holiday."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The Shin-Ra security guard barely looked at her as she handed him her ID. There had been a steady stream of beautiful girls pouring into Costa del Sol in the hope of meeting Rufus Shinra - that stunning blonde in the next queue for example, talking to the brunette with the short dress and the endless legs – so a little, mousy-haired, bespectacled girl like this… he glanced down at her ID … this Alice Mortimer… hardly registered on his radar.

"Reason for visit?" he asked, eyes on the blonde, who was laughing ostentatiously, head thrown back, long hair cascading down her back…

"My parents are here on holiday. I was… supposed to be with my boyfriend, skiing, but we split up."

"Where have you travelled from?"

"Icicle Inn." If anything was going to set alarm bells ringing, Alice thought, that would be it. But the guard was still eyeing up the blonde girl Alice had deliberately lined up next to, and he only waved her through.

Alice's cover story was watertight in any case. Her parents were on holiday here, staying in the expensive Palms Hotel, right on the beach, to the south of the original village where Rufus Shinra would be staying in his father's holiday villa.

But Alice wasn't going to see her parents. Mallory had somehow managed to get her a room at the inn in the old village, hacking into the computer system and imputing her details so that it looked as though she'd been booked in for weeks. As she walked to the inn, the unfamiliar weight of her suitcase making her stagger a little, Alice wondered how Mallory and Si were getting on up in Icicle. The rifle had been hidden in Si's parents' chalet for six months now, because everyone knew that Rufus, and even the president at times, visited Icicle Inn to ski and – in Rufus' case - snowboard.

Alice giggled to herself at the image of President Julius Shinra on a snowboard, then gave herself a mental telling off – because this was serious. But so far, so good. It didn't look as though any Shin-Ra security sweeps were going to find the weapon in Icicle Inn: Si's parents' chalet was fairly remote from the main village where the security presence was highest. As the children of high-ranking Shin-Ra personnel, she and Si were hardly likely suspects for an attack against the president and his family, in any case. But, like Mallory said, someone had to do something to stop Shin-Ra's destruction of the planet – before it was too late. Alice agreed with Mallory. Alice loved Mallory. She would do anything for his cause – for their cause. Even this.

Alone in her room at the inn, Alice unpacked the things she would need. It was important that no-one would be able to recognise her, especially not her parents if she happened to meet them at one of the many social functions organised in honour of Rufus' visit.

An hour later, Alice emerged from the bathroom, transformed. Hair now a brilliant blonde colour called, according to the box, ultra-gold; glasses replaced with contacts; skin tanned two shades darker and baggy clothes swapped for a tiny blue bikini that showed off her perfectly toned body - she was ready to begin the mission that would save the planet.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Reno lay back on the hot sand, not caring if it got into his clothes and his hair, closed his eyes, and gave himself up to the sunlight. Sunbathing they called it – and it really was like that – all the words that came into his mind were associated with water – he basked, he let the warmth wash over his skin so that he felt immersed in heat – all he saw behind his closed eyelids was a hot flood of vivid, glowing red, bright as summons materia. Two years of living above the plate, and a few missions away from Midgar's usually polluted, smoggy atmosphere, had made Reno more accustomed to the light – but this heat was something new to him, and he surprised himself with how much he enjoyed it.

"Thank you, Veld, for giving me this assignment!" he thought, sighing with pleasure, stretching, cat-like.

Two weeks of doing nothing but taking turns with Rude and Lex watching Rufus Shinra attempting to have a holiday had to be the easiest job he'd been given in the whole two-and-a-half years he'd been a Turk. It wasn't as if the poor kid was giving them much to do. Hell – he wasn't even enjoying himself, as far as Reno could see. Day three of the carefully organised round of wind-surfing and sailing lessons, swimming, beach volleyball – played against some incredibly beautiful girls of about Rufus's age who just happened to be on holiday at the same time – evening barbecues and beach parties – and Reno had yet to see the Shinra heir crack a smile since the yacht had docked.

Tseng had made it quite clear that the president expected Rufus to meet suitable girls, but so far, Rufus seemed unimpressed to the point of sulkiness.

Reno, on the other hand, was never one to let opportunities pass him by. He had managed two interesting encounters in as many days – one with a very pretty dark-haired, brown-eyed girl his own age he'd met in a club on the first night when he was off duty, and one with a woman he'd met on the beach yesterday while Lex was out in a boat guarding Rufus as the boy improved his sailing skills. Reno smiled to himself, remembering. The woman – Mandy? Maddy? - had been perhaps ten years his senior, and about a hundred times more experienced. Rufus wasn't the only one learning new skills, yo! Reno would bet his life Tseng, Veld and Freya weren't having nearly this much fun organizing the president's security up at Icicle Inn.

A shadow fell across Reno's face, and he opened his eyes to find Rufus looking down at him, frowning behind his dark sunglasses.

"How can you be guarding me if you've got your eyes shut?" the boy demanded in a petulant tone.

"Not me on duty," Reno replied, waving one hand back over his head in the direction of the boardwalk where Rude cut an incongruous figure in his dark suit – almost as much as Reno did, lying on the beach in an untidier version of the same outfit.

"So why're you still in uniform?"

Reno squinted up at Rufus, shading his eyes with his hand. His goggles, as ever, remained on his forehead, despite the blinding sun. "I'll be on again in an hour. Anyway – I burn in about two minutes, yo! And I'm betting boiled lobster's not a look girls tend to go for…"

Rufus threw down a black beach towel and sat next to Reno with a sigh, wrapping his arms around his knees. His white linen shirt fluttered in the slight breeze. Pushing back his hair with an automatic gesture, Rufus asked, "Can't I just go back to Midgar? There's nothing to do here!"

"Nope. Like you said in the chopper – you're a decoy for your dad. See it like a mission. And try to have fun while you're doing it. Where I come from, kids your age'd kill to be here."

"What kind of a mission is being a decoy?"

"It's a damned important one. It's not only the press we have to worry about up in Icicle Inn. Do you have any idea how many people hate Shin-Ra? You're making Veld's job protecting the president a hell of a lot easier, just being here."

Rufus looked down at Reno, frowning. "Who hates Shin-Ra? Apart from Wutai, of course? The people love Shin-Ra. Look at all we've given them!"

Reno sighed and sat up, looking at Rufus incredulously. "You really think that? Hmm – suppose you would. Shin-Ra as good as owns the press, after all. But out in the country – people whose farmland has been turned to desert by pollution around the reactors – people who've lost sons in the army and SOLDIER… Not everyone in the SOLDIER programme is an eager volunteer. Why do you think Sephiroth is doing those photo-shoots? SOLDIER recruitment needs all the help it can get."

"I thought every kid dreamed of being a SOLDIER – or dating one!"

"Yeah." Reno agreed. "And every parent thinks about the casualty figures from Wutai – even the official numbers are high enough - and the idea of their kid being injected with mako… SOLDIER gets a steady flow of would-be recruits, but hardly any suitable ones. 'Cause – truth is – most people smart enough to be in SOLDIER are too smart to enlist."

"But there are always new recruits. I've seen the graduation ceremonies."

"Yeah. But not that many of them are volunteers. Not at first, at least. Once the mako's in their system - and Gaia knows what else they pump them full of – they stop wanting to leave. They fight, and they love it."

Rufus looked out to sea. He had read everything he could find about Shin-Ra's business practices, the structure of the company, the different departments. But there was very little accessible information about SOLDIER, and still less about the Turks. "So – how do they get recruited then?" he asked, not sure whether or not he wanted to hear the answer.

"That's one of our jobs." Veld had been specific about what the president wanted Rufus to know. In the briefing he had told them, "Answer any questions except if they concern current operations. Anything about procedures, what the job entails, past, closed cases – that's all allowed. He's going to run the company one day; he needs to know how things really work." Part of Reno wanted to shock Rufus out of his sulky attitude, so he didn't bother to search for euphemisms as he continued, "We scout for suitable candidates. Some of them come willingly, but mostly we kidnap them and hand them over to SOLDIER. They're usually about your age – perhaps a year older."

Rufus stared at Reno. "You kidnap them? Doesn't anyone do anything?"

Reno shrugged. "Like what? A few weeks in training – few visits to the labs – and they're phoning home telling everyone about their sudden decision to join SOLDIER, and what a great life it is. Wouldn't get a single one of 'em to testify if anyone tried to prove anything." The Turk grinned, and Rufus had to suppress a shiver of something that was part fear and part excitement as Reno added, "'Sides – not a court on the planet would touch a case like that. No-one crosses Shin-Ra, yo."

Rufus pushed his sunglasses back onto his forehead and his blue gaze was intense as he asked, "So – if I wasn't who I am – I could be just walking along the street, and a Turk turns up with a gun – and that's it? I'm in SOLDIER?" Reno considered. "That's how it works, yeah." He shook his head. "But you wouldn't be a candidate for SOLDIER. I've seen your test scores. If we were gonna recruit you, you'd be one of us."

For the first time since arriving in Costa del Sol, Rufus Shinra smiled.

Reno leaned back on his elbows. "There are other threats, too. A lot of people are worried about the reactors. Recently there've been protests. Warnings from groups claiming that Shin-Ra is destroying the planet." The Turk shrugged.

A beautiful blonde girl in a microscopic blue bikini strolled through the surf at the water's edge in front of them. She turned and smiled at Rufus, who took absolutely no notice. Reno said, "I don't know – planet looks pretty good from where I'm sitting. But I suppose you never know. Anyone could be a spy for Wutai, or a terrorist." He nodded towards the girl. "You think she's a secret assassin maybe?"

Rufus glanced at the girl, then away. "Where would she keep her gun?" he asked, dryly. Reno laughed, then shrugged again. "I know a dozen ways to kill someone without a weapon," he said. "Maybe she does too…"

"She's pretty, I suppose," said Rufus, without much conviction, as they watched the girl wandering off along the shoreline. He sighed. "So – what's the rest of the day like?"

"Ah – just a second…" Reno reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his PHS. Shielding the screen from the sun's glare with one hand he read out: "jet-skiing at three, your usual combat class at five-thirty – I'll be doing that one too, 'cause Tseng's decided I need to work on making my fighting style less – how did he put it? One-dimensionally 'street' – then nothing 'til nine, when you've got that big reception and dinner at the Palms Hotel, with the local bigwigs and so on."

Rufus groaned. "Gaia, that's the worst! Can't I get out of it?"

"Nope. You need to be seen. This is the one indoor event the press are invited to as well, so you need to smile and be nice to people. Can you do that?"

Rufus shrugged. "I don't know. I've never tried."

Reno laughed, putting away his PHS and lying back on the sand again. "Yeah, that I can believe!"

Rufus looked at him sharply, stung. "What? You don't think I can do it?"

"Guess we'll find out tonight." Reno closed his eyes.

"Hm." Rufus suspected he was being played – that Reno was trying to goad him into behaving himself. What he wasn't sure about was whether or not he minded.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Alice Mortimer stood on the beach, well away from anyone who might be able to hear her conversation, and phoned Mallory in Icicle. "I'm ready," she told him. "I saw Him today – I smiled at him, but he didn't seem bothered. There're T… I mean, his friends in blue… always right next to him. He looks so young, Mal. I don't think he's even old enough to be interested in girls. Oh – sorry – I mean M."

Mallory's voice was distorted by the electronics or something, because he sounded cold and more than physically distant as he replied, "Get a grip, A. This is important. We're all set here. Are you?"

"Yes. I won't let you down Ma – M."

"You're not doing this for me. You're doing it for the future of the planet."

"Right. Yes. Yes I am."

"Good girl."

"And – I'll see you soon, won't I? After…"

"Yes. You're sure you know what to do?"

"Yes. I love you!"

"Me too. Phone in when it's done."

"I… I will… Mal –" But he'd already disconnected. Which was just as well, because she'd almost slipped up again, and said his whole name!

Alice walked back to the inn to get ready. She understood why Rufus Shinra had to die - of course she did - because Mallory had explained it all so clearly. Without Rufus there would be no-one to take over the company – the executives would fight for power – the business would founder – how had he described it? Like a ship without a rudder. Mallory was so clever at understanding all that stuff.

But she hadn't expected Rufus to look so young, and so normal – like one of her little sister's school friends. Shin-Ra's killing kids his age every day, she told herself, hearing Mallory's voice in her head. Some of the regulars they send to Wutai are only fifteen. And what about the monster attacks? And the reactors, killing off the planet? If the planet dies, we all die – old and young alike. She knew that Mallory was right. And he'd promised her that the poison wouldn't be painful – that it would act slowly, making the victim sleepy, and then… he just wouldn't wake up.

All she had to do was take the pen cap off very carefully, ask for his autograph and accidentally scratch his hand with the nib as she passed him the pen. She'd practiced a hundred times. "Rufus Shinra – I'm such a fan – would you, please?" A tiny scratch would be enough. Then apologise – "So sorry – how stupid –" And retreat, making sure to take the pen, looking either embarrassed, if he reacted angrily, or grateful, if he was gracious about it. Simple. It would be at least twelve hours before the poison started to work. Everyone would think it was the food.

Not for the first time, Alice wondered how Mallory had been able to get hold of the poisoned pen. But then Mallory was so clever – a genius really – so it wasn't all that surprising. Not when you thought about it.

And afterwards, after the dust had settled, she would go back to Mallory, and they would get married, and the world would be saved. No-one would ever know, of course, that she and Mal had saved the world. But like Mallory always said, anonymous good deeds are the mark of a true hero.

TBC

Thank you for reading.