Reeve opened the meeting with an admonition.
"This is not an invasion. It's an evacuation."
He nodded to Nero and Shelke. "Keeping in mind what our resident Tsviets have said previously about the way survivors may view the intrusion, I'll ask you all to adhere to these instructions. Those who go below will be armed, for self-defense only. Our priority is to get the survivors out - the injured first. Don't worry about records, equipment, or anything like that, just concentrate on people."
He touched a key on his laptop, bringing up a schematic of the Deepground installation, based on the information that Nero had provided. Each member of the group had a similar machine in front of them, and the same image appeared on each person's screen.
"Everyone will have these maps available on their phones," said Reeve, with a pointed glance at Vincent, who was notorious for forgetting to keep his phone on him.
"I'll be at HQ directing the action from our situation room," Reeve continued. "Shalua will direct the medical team. Tseng will coordinate the Turks, and Veld will liaise between Shalua, the Turks and me."
Veld and Tseng nodded as Reeve went on. "Shelke, of course, will be in charge of the information flow in regard to the active microchips and functional surveillance cameras, so that we have an idea of how to get to the survivors once they're found. Captain Jensen," he added with a nod to a woman seated to his left, "will direct the troops I'm sending down. They'll be there as protection, in case anyone objects to being removed, but they'll also help move people out as quickly as possible."
The next image on their screens showed the so-named "Elevator to Hell" that Nero had created out of shadow a few weeks ago. "Nero and Vincent," said Reeve, "will be our Team One. They'll go down first to the areas Nero deems most likely to hold survivors. Again, the injured will be the priority: Get them up here as fast as you can, using your elevator or by whatever means necessary. We'll have teams standing by with rescue equipment, triage, and so forth.
"Nero, I'm afraid you're going to have to take point on this. You'll need to convince frightened people that it's in their best interests to leave the Deepground complex. As you know, some of the earlier, ah, 'refugees' have joined our troops, so they'll be there to help deal with the reluctant.
"Does anyone have any questions, comments, suggestions?"
"Don't wear your visors," Shelke spoke up. All eyes turned toward her.
"Deepground uniforms have a full face plate," she explained. "If the survivors can see your faces, that's an indicator that you aren't there to fight."
The WRO had recently abandoned the slightly ridiculous first iteration of their uniform and now had something that resembled proper tactical gear, complete with helmet and full visor.
The fact that a lot of it was repurposed SOLDIER equipment was tacitly ignored.
"Noted," said Captain Jensen.
"One other thing," Shelke went on. "I'm not sure the survivors are aware that their microchips are deactivated. Since the mainframes went up with Reactor Zero, there's no computer to recognize when they cross the electric fence. However, I don't know if the fence is still active or not. It would be best to wait until we're certain it's safe before moving anyone beyond the old Midgar city limits. It's no good rushing someone to the hospital if they die on the way from the chip detonating."
"I've been all over the damn place," Nero spoke up, "and I'm fine."
"Yes, but have you been outside of Midgar?" Shelke asked.
"I honestly don't know," Nero admitted. "But point taken. Is there a way to permanently disable..." He trailed off, realization dawning.
The ring he'd scooped out of the mako for Max. The earrings.
Oh gods.
Oh gods oh gods oh gods…
The look of revelation frosted over into one of abject horror.
"Nero?" Shelke asked. All eyes were on him but Nero seemed unaware. After a long and awkward moment he shook it off, or pretended to. A haunted look lingered in his eyes.
"I can remove the microchips," he said quietly. "I could have taken them out at any time."
Shelke froze briefly as well. A heavy silence fell over the room. It was shattered by Reeve, for once not bothering with an optimistic tone.
"Good," Reeve announced, the single word jarring everyone back to the present. "Once the evacuation teams have all the survivors out, you can move on to assisting processing them. I'm sure everyone will feel better once their chips are removed."
"Yessir," Nero responded blankly.
Vincent's attention, until now focused on the maps, shifted to Nero. He started to speak, paused, and turned back to his laptop screen, silent again. Veld glanced at each of them, and decided to stay out of it.
Shalua offered a few suggestions and reminders regarding injured or incapacitated persons, Reeve fielded a few more questions, and then dismissed everyone. Nero stood and left the room automatically, a thousand-yard stare entrenched deep in his golden eyes. Veld thought about going over to him, but noticed Shelke by his elbow, and decided to inquire another time. Shelke would understand far better than he or Vincent ever could.
To anyone not familiar with his quirks and idiosyncrasies, Nero might have appeared perfectly fine, if somewhat distracted. Shelke knew better. Nero walked down the hall, posture straight and steps even, yet his expression that of one concussed. Falling into old habits herself, she drew even with him as if by accident.
"It's not your fault," she told him softly.
"I could have saved them," Nero said hoarsely, the respirator turning the words to a grim prophecy on an ill wind. "I could have saved everyone. We could have killed the Restrictors. We could have left. We could have stayed. I should have known."
Nero had stumbled to a stop. Although he made no move to grab his shoulders, and no tears welled in his eyes, he was shaking so badly Shelke was amazed he was still upright. Giving him plenty of warning, she hooked a hand on his elbow, and gently drew him aside into one of the empty smaller conference rooms. She didn't bother to turn the lights on, and the dim interior seemed to quiet Nero's anxiety a little.
"Nero, listen to me," she said in her best commander's tone. "It is not your fault. How did you even figure it out in the first place?"
"Max," he stammered, mask spitting and hissing as he tripped over the words. "I took her to the mako cavern and I showed her the shelf with all the jewelry and she thought it was pretty so I just...pulled one out and gave it to her."
"And you didn't know before then?"
Miserably, he shook his head. "No. No, I had no idea."
He swallowed hard, the motion requiring his whole body to complete. Afraid he was going to be sick if she didn't get him to snap out of it, Shelke reached and seized him by the collar, yanking him down to her level.
"Nero," she said with as much force as she could muster. "Stop it. It's too late. It's over. All you can do now is go and find them tomorrow. Got it?"
Shelke fixed him with her eyes, waiting until he gave a jerky nod.
"Tomorrow," he repeated shakily. "We'll find them tomorrow."
"Yes you will," Shelke promised without hesitation. Relaxing her grip on him, she leaned forward till their foreheads touched. "You'll find them. You'll be together. We'll all be together. It'll be okay, then."
Nero took a sobbing breath and rubbed his head against hers. "We'll be together. It'll be okay."
"Yes," she told him softly, pressing back. "It will."