Sorry to all for the long delay. I've had this written for ages, but could not think of a title. In the end I had to settle for something straightforward.

Because it's been a while, I thought I should briefly sum up what happened in the previous couple of episodes for anyone who feels the need.

Commander Veld, having abandoned the Turks to search for his long-lost daughter Felicia, or Elfe, is still under sentence of death. Rufus is still being held in isolation in the Turks' surveillance room as punishment for funding AVALANCHE. Aviva is still hopelessly in love with Reno.

After three years of silence, Commander Veld and AVALANCHE reappeared in Cosmo Canyon. Veld, Fuhito, and the Turks are all searching for the support materia which will enable the activation of the summons materia embedded in the hand of Veld's daughter. The strange materia that was taken from Aviva's pocket after she fell into the mako at Corel has turned out to be one of the four support materia they seek, and Bugenhagen has told Tseng that the summons it supports was originally found at Nibelheim by a dead Turk named Valentine. While looking for more information, Tseng stumbled across Cissnei's telephone number, hidden in Veld's desk. Hojo has continued to refuse to allow any Turks into the Nibelheim mansion; however, when he decided to send a team of his scientists to bring Jenova to Midgar, President Shinra ordered that two Turks go with them. Tseng sent Rude and Rosalind with instructions to break into the mansion and see what they could find. He also told them to kill Zack, and thus end his suffering. However, Zack broke out and escaped with Cloud. Rude and Rosalind took advantage of the ensuing chaos to search the mansion, while Tseng made a phone-call to the long-lost Cissnei, and offered her a new mission...

CHAPTER 36: WE'RE NOT TRAITORS. BUT -
In which Cissnei's debriefing doesn't go smoothly, Tseng offers the Turks a choice, and Reno tries to explain what his job means to him

By the time Tseng finished briefing Cissnei it was nearly two a.m., that small hour when the veil between this world and the next becomes almost transparent: when those close to death slip into the current of the lifestream, and sleepers surrender to dreams. Far away, many floors above his head, lights were blazing and angry men and women were shouting accusations and making demands, but here on the Turks' floor all was quiet, and he had nothing left to do but wait. Once again, it seemed, he had come to a turning point in his life, and once again he was alone, listening to the clock tick, wondering when his phone would ring and who would be on the other end of the line when it did.

He heard a slight click; it was the timer turning the ventilation fans back on. The building came to life, breathing through its shafts long hissing exhalations of dry air that chilled his skin. The faraway throb of the reactors sounded to Tseng like a heartbeat, and for a moment he had the fanciful sensation of being trapped inside a behemoth that had swallowed him whole.

All at once he could not bear to be alone with his thoughts another minute. Without thinking too hard about it, he allowed his feet to carry him along the passageways and down the steps to the one place in the Turks' domain where he knew he would find a fellow human being at this dark hour. Quietly he opened the door and slipped through, immediately feeling the slight difference in temperature: the air in here had been warmed several degrees by Rufus' body heat. Tseng felt around for the dimmer switch, found it, and turned it up just a little, just enough to see.

Curled on his side in the four-poster bed, with the covers pulled up to his ears, Rufus twitched as the light came on, but did not wake. The cat that lay drowsing by his feet opened its eyes at Tseng's soft-footed approach, yawned mightily, and stretched its claws. With one hand Tseng pushed back the silk brocade bedcurtain and stood for a moment looking down on the sleeper. Rufus' hair was a splash of pale gold against the snowy pillow; his lashes quivered with each breath, and his stubbled cheeks were flushed like a child's.

If only he could always be like this, thought Tseng wryly. Caring for him would be a piece of cake.

Releasing the curtain, he moved away from the bed and sat in Rufus' armchair, resting his brow against the padded headrest. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that the cat was still watching him. In the dim light its pupils were huge, matt black, its irises shining like two yellow crescent moons. It twitched its tail a couple of times, and then, with an air of smug, ineffable wisdom that put Tseng in mind of Bugenhagen, it closed its eyes and began to purr.

Tseng shut his own eyes, allowing the peace to enfold him.

.

In his dreams he heard the ringing of church bells, and then felt someone shaking him.

"Get off me," he snarled, his tongue thick with sleep.

"My watchdog's catnapping," said Rufus, sounding amused. Tseng forced his eyes open. His prisoner was standing over him, dressed in white silk pajamas, his hair tousled as if he had just got out of bed. "You need to wake up, Tseng," he said. "Something's happened. A woman called for you not long ago. She sounded a little wrought up."

Tseng realized that Rufus was holding his phone.

"She woke me up, actually," Rufus went on. "I think she thought I was you. Oh, and by the way - "

The shrill ringing of Tseng's phone interrupted him.

"Right on cue," Rufus laughed softly. "Maybe it's her." He flipped it open and put it to his ear.

"Give me that," said Tseng, holding out his hand.

"You have reached the offices of the Department of Administrative Research. Hullo? No, hold on a minute." Rufus passed the phone over, saying, as he did so, "It is her. Her voice sounds familiar, but I just can't place it.

Tseng put the phone to his ear. "Speak."

"Boss?" Cissnei's voice was high-pitched, strained. "Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me."

"Who was that other man?"

Tseng glanced up at Rufus, who had perched himself on the arm of Tseng's chair and was listening attentively; at this close range he could hear her every word. Tseng shifted the phone to his other ear and said, "That's not important. Give me your status report."

"Did you know – " Her voice quivered, broke; she took a breath, and pressed on, "Did you know who you were sending me after?"

"The target's identity hadn't been confirmed – "

"Fuck that. Fuck you, Tseng – don't you realise I thought he was dead? The Chief told me he was dead!"

"I had surmised that, yes."

Cissnei made a furious hissing sound. "So if you knew, then why… I mean, what the hell is this? More punishment? Or – or - some sick kind of test? Is that what you're doing? Are you testing me?"

Rufus bent closer, so close that his hot breath blew softly across Tseng's cheek. For a moment, the briefest fraction of a moment, it felt good to have another human being close to him; it was as if he were being offered an extra shoulder to lean on. Then the old claustrophobia reasserted itself like a band tightening round his chest. With a twist of his body Tseng sprang up out of the chair and moved away, restoring the proper distance between himself and his prisoner. As he did so, he realized that the black bootlace he used to keep his hair tied back had worked itself loose while he slept; his hair was swinging in a heavy sheet around his shoulders, and he had to toss his head to get it out of his face.

Rufus, laughing silently, slid down into the warm seat Tseng had just vacated.

"Tseng?"" cried Cissnei. "Are you still there? Don't you go silent on me, you bastard!"

"Have you apprehended the target?"

"You know I fucking haven't."

Relief flooded his being. He'd tossed a coin and it had come up heads, just as he had gambled it would.

To Cissnei he said, "Why not? I gave you explicit orders – "

"He overpowered me, took my bike, and escaped. OK?

So you gave him the bike, did you? Good girl. I knew I could count on you.

"I'm terminating this mission," he told her. "Text me your coordinates and I'll arrange for you to be collected ."

"No."

"What?"

"I said no, Tseng. I've made up my mind. I'm going into the mansion – "

"No!" he exclaimed. "Don't do that."

If she went into the mansion she would run into Rosalind and Rude… and she would see things that were better left to the imagination –

"Don't you understand?" she cried. "I have to. I have to know. Thinking he was dead was bad enough, but to find out that all this time… God, it's like a living nightmare. The little guy he's got with him has mako poisoning so bad he doesn't look like he's going to make it – but Zack wouldn't even think of leaving him behind. They were in there together, he said. And he – he said – he wouldn't tell - " Her voice broke on a sob. "Tseng, what did that freak Hojo do to them in there?"

"You don't want to know. Don't think about it - "

"You maybe able to do that. I can't. I still have a heart, even if you don't."

"No – listen to me. Your orders – "

She had already hung up.

"Staff giving you trouble?" asked Rufus.

In the heat of the moment Tseng had almost forgotten Rufus was there. "No… Nothing like that," he replied automatically, and even as the words were leaving his mouth he wondered why he bothered to deny it.

"Hmmm," was all Rufus said. Getting to his feet, he crossed to his night table, poured a glass of cold water from the thermos flask, and held it out, saying, "Your throat sounds a bit dry."

This simple act of thoughtfulness from such an unexpected quarter tightened Tseng's chest to the point where he was momentarily unable to speak. Rufus brought the water to him; he took it, sipped it gratefully, managed a "Thank you."

How strange it felt to be taken care of. That was usually his job.

Rufus removed the empty glass from his hand and said, "By the way, if you don't mind my asking – what are you doing here?"

Good question. For a moment or two, Tseng was unable to remember. Then it came back to him. "I couldn't sleep."

"You could have fooled me. When I woke up you were so fast asleep that – "

Once again the ringing of Tseng's phone cut Rufus off. He answered it briefly, "Yes? – Yes, sir. That is correct. Yes, I will. Fifteen minutes. Understood," and shut it again.

"They never leave you alone, do they?" said Rufus. "You look exhausted. You could always get into my bed. I'm up now, anyway. I'll draw the curtains and tell anyone who comes looking for you that you're not here."

"I have to see your father."

"Ah. Then you'll need this -" Turning away, Rufus went over to the armchair, picked up Tseng's leather bootlace, and gave it to him. Tseng used his fingers to comb back his hair and tie it into its customary ponytail. Rufus stood and watched.

"I know who your target is," he said when Tseng had finished.

Tseng gave him a doubtful look. Did he know, or was he fishing?

"S-level access, remember?" Rufus explained. "After that woman woke me up with her phone call, I took a look at the executive memoranda from last night – or I suppose I should say this morning. Apparently Zack Fair killed six troopers while escaping from custody and wounded several dozen more. In the minutes Hojo describes him as a 'failed experiment', but from the sound of things he's more of a killing machine than ever. Scarlet's sent half the army after him. But the funny thing is, I can't find any record of anyone sending out the Turks." Rufus leaned forward. Lowering his voice conspiratorially, he said, "You went after him on your own initiative, didn't you?"

"Our standing order to protect the company's interests dictated my actions," Tseng stiffly replied.

"Yes, of course." Rufus laughed. "Shinra can't go on bringing these dead people back to life. If word got out, we'd never be able to keep up with the demand. Unfortunately for you, though, he seems to have made good his escape. Which leaves you with a problem. Doesn't it?" He smiled. "Tseng, what are you going to tell Aerith?"

.

23rd December, 2006

At precisely 15.57 hours Skeeter and Reno entered a cobbled back alley on the outskirts of Sector 8. The two Turks moved at a brisk pace, glancing over their shoulders to make sure that they weren't being followed. Sharp winds funneled up the alley behind them, whirling through the detritus of discarded sweet wrappers, cigarette butts and crumpled betting slips. A sheet of newspaper wrapped itself around Skeeter's leg; he stopped to kick it loose. Ahead of them loomed the steep concrete wall that formed the lip of the plate. To their right, a red and gold Shinra postbox stood under a filigreed iron street-lamp.

"Down here," said Reno, pointing at a flight of steps descending to a basement entrance. There was a light burning over the door. He led the way, and rapped four times on the brass door-knocker. A very pretty dark-haired girl, wearing an apron around her waist, opened the door and smiled at them. Reno looked past her, peering down the shadowed hallway, his left hand hovering close to his EMR. Skeeter gave her his most charming grin. She closed the door behind them, and without saying a word led them along a narrow passage, opened a door, and gestured with her head for them to go inside.

The small room they entered was lit by a couple of old-fashioned gas lamps set in sconces on the wall. By this sepia-tinted light they could see four wingback chairs arranged around a low table, on which stood a cut crystal decanter and four sherry glasses. Tseng was sitting in one of the chairs, and the Legendary Turk in another. The remaining two chairs were waiting to be occupied.

"You found us," said Tseng. "Good. Come sit down."

"Drink?" Charlie asked them.

"If you're buying," said Reno.

Charlie unstoppered the decanter and leaned forward to pour a stream of liquid gold into the glasses. To Reno's nose it smelt like candy – rum'n'raisin fudge, maybe. Sherry wasn't really his cup of tea any more than cigars were, but a free drink was a free drink. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip.

Tseng's hands rested quietly on the arms of his chair. His fingers did not worry at the nap of the upholstery, as Skeeter's were doing, or patter a random beat like Reno's. They simply… waited. Tseng never made a motion that was not necessary. This quality of absolute stillness he possessed had always been one of the things Reno envied and admired most about him – the other being, of course, that voice, like a knife sheathed in velvet.

Tseng said, "You both know, I take it, that Roz and Rude encountered Commander Veld while they were in Nibelheim?"

"Yeah, they said." Reno narrowed his eyes at Tseng. "Be honest, Boss. Did you know he was there?"

Charlie cut in, "None of us have had any contact with Veld since the day he left – "

"I wasn't asking you."

Tseng raised a hand for them both to stop. "There was always a strong possibility that he would show up; I knew that. But I didn't coordinate it with him, Reno, if that's what you've been thinking. I don't know his plans. I'm not in communication with him."

"Does the Board believe that?"

"I cannot help what the Board believes. They know that Rosalind and Rude were in Nibelheim at the President's request. The coincidental break-out of the two test subjects – "

"Was it coincidental?" Reno interrupted again.

"Yes. As it happens. "

"To serendipity," smiled Charlie, raising his glass.

Tseng went on, "As I was saying, when the test subjects broke loose, I ordered Roz and Rude to go into the mansion to ensure that any sensitive data was secure. Protecting corporate confidentiality is our primary imperative, after all. As I explained to the President, it was while they were carrying out these orders that they surprised the former head of this department in the act of stealing a certain high-security item belonging to the science department. They immediately tried to arrest him. He fought them off, and then AVALANCHE attacked, took the item in question and made off before anyone could stop them. The former head of this department used materia to incapacitate Roz and Rude, and then followed AVALANCHE. A squad of soldiers was redeployed to pursue him, but, regrettably, he escaped."

Tseng paused.

Skeeter had taken up his sherry glass while Tseng was speaking; now he threw his head back and tossed the contents down his throat in a single gulp. A look of pain crossed Charlie's face.

"So…. " said Reno to Tseng, "That's the story?"

"That's the story," Tseng replied.

"Sounds plausible."

"Definitely more plausible than the truth," remarked Charlie.

"Which is?"

"Not entirely different," said Tseng. "I sent Roz and Rude to Nibelheim with orders to break into the library. Zack's escape created the ideal diversion. When they reached the basement they found the Commander had got there ahead of them. He'd been waiting for an opportunity as well. Together they searched the mansion and found another one of the support materia – "

Skeeter's gold tooth flashed in a grin. "That's freakin' awesome. Two down, two to go!"

"Not quite. As I said, Fuhito has it now."

"Oh, so that bit was true?"

"Yes," said Tseng patiently. "The Ravens held Roz and Rude and Commander Veld off while Fuhito escaped. The noise of the fighting drew a couple of troopers to the spot, so the Commander stunned Roz and Rude, to make it look as if they'd been been fighting him, and then he went off after Fuhito. The troopers chased him, but he gave them the slip pretty quickly – "

Skeeter cheered, "Dude, the Chief still rocks!"

"Have another drink, my friend," smiled Charlie.

He refilled the three empty glasses. Tseng had not touched his. Skeeter knocked it back and said, "Wow, this is good stuff, Ledge. But Boss, you haven't told us yet what the story is with the dude in the coffin."

Tseng frowned. "What do you know about that?"

"Roz says they went into a crypt full of coffins and found this guy sleeping in one of them, and the Chief knows him, she said. And they woke him up and he told them where to find the materia. Roz says the Chief said they used to work together when they were young, but how can that be possible? Roz said he didn't look any older than me."

Tseng was silent. Charlie looked thoughtful. Reno said nothing; he was busy wrestling with his own memories of the basement at Nibelheim: the dank walls, the smells of earth and decay and mako mingling with Cissnei's perfume; the ironbound door, the lifted latch, the beam of Cissnei's torch shining on a coffin lid; the touch of her hand on his…

And a long-lost Turk sleeping like the dead not three metres from them.

"I suspect," said Tseng, "That officially he's K.I.A.. Not that it matters. Whoever he is, he seems to have shut himself up out of choice, and we should show our gratitude for his help by respecting that."

"But he must have been in there for, like, decades," Skeeter pressed on, reluctant to let the fascinating subject drop. "Roz said his hair was all matted down to his waist and his fingernails were like claws and – "

"Roz said too much," Tseng cut him short. "I didn't call you here to speculate on the identity of the man in the coffin. If he ever worked for Shinra, he doesn't any more, and what he chooses to do with himself is none of our business. We need to talk about the Commander."

He paused, taking a moment to study each of their faces. "Commander Veld is under sentence of death. That hasn't changed. Our orders are to shoot him on sight. None of us can say that we don't know this. Strictly speaking, Roz and Rude are guilty of a very severe dereliction of duty, and that throws suspicion on us all – "

But it was the Chief!" cried Skeeter. "You can't expect them to shoot the Chief! You don't really want us to kill him, do you, Boss?"

Tseng answered very slowly, as if taking time to make sure each word was precisely correct, "The Old Man has to believe that I'm prepared to do it. Otherwise, we are all finished."

Slowly, a slit of a grin began to cut across Reno's face. Skeeter still looked bewildered.

"When we joined this company," Tseng went on, "We swore an oath that we would put the welfare of the Shinra Corporation above every other consideration, even our own lives. That primary imperative overrides any other order we may receive. Even an order from the President."

He allowed a little silence, to let this sink in.

"Oh, Boss," breathed Reno, his voice pitched low and full of admiration. "You are one fucking fantastically weasly bastard."

Charlie laughed out loud, and gave Reno a look of appreciation.

A faint smile had wormed its way onto Tseng's lips. He forced it down, and went on, "Since our job is to protect this company, part of that job must surely be to protect its President from the consequences of his own bad decisions. Commander Veld poses no thread to Shinra. He has served this company faithfully all his life, at the cost of great personal sacrifice, and even with the sentence of death hanging over his head he continues to work to bring down our enemies. Killing him would be detrimental to the company's interests. I have therefore come to the conclusion that our true duty is to assist him in any way we can – to find the support materia, to rescue Felicia, and to stop Fuhito before he does any more harm either to Shinra or the people of this planet. I intend to do everything in my power to help the Commander and keep him alive. And the Legend's with me."

Charlie took up the thread. "It won't be easy. The Old Man's furious that Roz and Rude let the Chief get away. Scarlet and Heidegger are on the lookout for any opportunity to stick the knife in. We have to assume we're under constant surveillance."

"We can't afford to put a foot wrong," said Tseng. "If we screw this up, our lives are probably forfeit."

Reno snorted. "So what else is new?"

Despite Tseng's daunting words, a surge of optimism charged the atmosphere of their little gas-lit room. Reno's hair positively bristled with energy. Skeeter's pale blue eyes shone.

"You're under no obligation," Tseng went on, looking from Skeeter to Reno and back to Skeeter again. "I can't order anyone to follow me in going against the Board. If you prefer, you can walk away now. Quit the Turks. Leave Shinra. Leave Midgar. I won't come after you. But before you choose, be very clear about one thing. Your choice is final. If you choose to throw in your lot with Charlie and me, I expect one hundred per cent commitment. If you choose to leave, there's no coming back. And if I ever saw you in Midgar again, I'd kill you. So. Skeeter, what do you say? In or out?"

Skeeter looked to Reno for guidance. Reno raised his eyebrows, and then turned his face away. This was a choice every man had to make for himself.

"The Chief saved my life," said Skeeter decisively. "I owe him one. I'm in."

"Reno?"

Reno jerked a thumb at his younger colleague. "The man said it. In, of course. Did you really need to ask?"

.

They sat together for a little longer, finishing the decanter. Then Charlie stood up, saying that he had promised to meet Aviva for drinks before dinner. He asked whether anyone else would like to come along. Skeeter said he would, and got out his phone to call round the rest of the team and see who else would join them.

"I need to get back to the office," said Tseng.

"I'll walk with you," Reno offered.

Ten minutes strolling at Tseng's measured pace brought them within sight of the theatre. Outside the Goblins Bar the landlord was smoothing chequered cloths over the tables in preparation for the evening rush. Across the road Les Marroniers was having a sale: big red signs with tall white letters crying Prices Slashed! and Everything Must Go! were plastered over the shop windows. As the two Turks rounded the corner into Loveless Avenue, Reno asked Tseng, "No one turned you down, did they?"

"I still need to talk to Roz and Rude, but I'm assuming that'll be a formality."

"When?"

"Later tonight. Rude wants me to meet them in a bar down in the Sector Seven slums. Seventh Heaven, it's called."

"Never heard of it," said Reno.

Tseng arched an amused eyebrow. "It must be brand new, then."

"Huh. Probably got some fat-arsed barmaid there he fancies."

They walked under the Clock Arch and into the crowds milling through Fountain Square. The hour had just struck six. From every building hungry, thirsty, tired workers came streaming towards the train stations and the bars. The two Turks were like a rock in this current of humanity. It parted before them, flowed around them, closed up in their wake. There was a time when the effect their suits produced had given Reno a thrill he'd thought would never grow old. Now, it barely registered.

"There's something I have to ask you," he said.

Tseng, who had been waiting for Reno to raise the subject, replied, "Go on."

"When Roz and Rude were in Nibelheim, they met somebody else they never thought they'd see again. Didn't they?"

Rude had told him, of course. "Yes," said Tseng.

"Did you send her there?"

"Yes, I did."

Reno kept his tone carefully neutral. "Because you knew she'd let him get away?"

"Officially, he overpowered her."

"Oh. Right. SOLDIER First Class. Gotcha."

They continued walking across the square and around the fountain. At the travel agency on the corner a young woman in a powder blue suit was putting a 'closed' sign on the door. The two Turks walked past her, heading down the lane that led to Sector Zero.

"I just have to know this one thing," said Reno at last. "Is she coming back to work here?"

Tseng stopped and turned to look at him. "What are you hoping I'll say?" They were standing in the cold shadow of the Shinra Building. Instead of giving Tseng an answer, Reno took a few steps back and craned his neck, lifting his eyes to the top of the tower. "It always looks like it's falling when you stand right under it like this," he said. "Hey, Boss - What d'you call those things you use to hold up houses that are falling down?"

"Buttresses?"

"Yeah, buttresses, that's it. You know, that's kind of like what we are, don't you think? I mean, this building's pretty rotten in places, but it's a roof over a lot of heads, isn't it? I'm not talking about bad eggs like you, and me, and the Board. I mean these nine-to-five stiffs with families and stuff. So we're like their buttresses. We hold that roof up over them. D'you see what I mean?"

Tseng coughed a laugh. "I've heard worse analogies."

"Yeah," Reno grinned. "A good one for the rookies, huh? And it just came to me on the spot there. D'you know how long I've been doing this job, Tseng?"

"Twelve years come February, isn't it?"

"Another three years and I'll be thirty, and I'll have spent half my life in this suit. And I'll probably die in it. There was a time, you know, a while back, when I used to think a lot about what I'd have done with my life if I wasn't a Turk. And then after the Chief ran out on us I was pretty fucking pissed at him for a long time, not just for leaving us in the lurch like that, but for dragging me into this life to begin with. But you know what I've come to realize?"

"What, Reno?"

"I was kidding myself. This life is the only life I could ever have had. If the Chief hadn't hauled me out of the slums when he did, I'd have got myself killed years ago. Even now this job is the only reason I have to get up in the morning. It's the one thing that stops me from living like an animal. What'll I eat today? Where will I get drunk today? Who will I fuck today? That's all my life would be. Am I making sense?"

"I think so. You mean this job gives your life a purpose."

Reno's lip curled. "When you put it that way you make me sound like Veev. I was thinking more like this job is what keeps me human. I don't have much that I believe in. Never did. I really don't get all that shit about ethics and morality and stuff that ties everybody all up in knots. I mean -" he showed his teeth fleetingly "- I know it's wrong to take candy from babies and cut the whiskers off kittens. And obviously it's wrong to shoot innocent civilians," he added in a tone that managed to be both serious and full of mockery, as if he believed what he saying but had to laugh at himself for believing it. "The only time I'm ever sure I'm doing the right thing is when I'm obeying orders. And that suits me, because I like doing what I'm told. I could never do what you do, weighing up all the pros and cons and trying to work out what's the right thing to do. I wouldn't even know where to fucking start."

"Reno, what are you trying to say?"

"Oh, shit – look, I just wanted to say that I think what you did for Zack Fair was right. I'm sure it wasn't an easy decision to make, and it's going to cause us a shitload of hassle, we both know that, but it was still right. And what you're doing for the Chief is right. So whatever you decide to do with Ciss – that'll be all right with me too. I have faith in you, Boss."

Tseng's eyes widened. "You're – being sincere, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I am. The Chief knew what he was doing when he left you in charge. You've never steered us wrong yet. And now that I've answered your question, how about you answer mine?"

"Cissnei will not be coming back to Midgar," Tseng told him. "Or at least, not for the foreseeable future. The Commander assigned her a mission, and it isn't complete yet. I can't say for sure when it will be." He took a long look at Reno's face, and though he thought he knew the answer, he asked anyway, "Do you want to know where she is?"

"No," Reno answered without hesitation. "And if I ever lose my mind completely and try to make you tell me, just shoot me instead, OK? We're going to have enough trouble coming our way these next few months as it is. We can do without any more complications."

They had come to the front entrance. Shinra's employees – the ordinary nine-to-fivers, the good eggs - were spilling through the security gates and down the steps into the street. Tseng took Reno by the elbow and drew him aside.

"Speaking of complications," he said in Reno's ear, "I want Rufus out of our office. It's time to move him, as we discussed. I need you to do it tonight."

Thank you for reading and, I hope, enjoying.

Anyone know which book is being referenced by the signs in the Les Marroniers windows?