Chapter 36: Fissures and Doubts
The Turks ended up in Rude and Elena's suite. Getting a new one was out of question, and Reno and Arien's was not habitable. After some discussion and scrambled pairings, Reno ended up rooming with Arien anyway, after some arguments, "this isn't eighth grade camp", and finally, Rude's "Reno and Arien have the same shift". The last one did it, as none of them really liked the idea of disturbing each other's sleep. Thankfully their luggage was intact, and that was a blessing.
After settling in - which mostly involved hauling their luggage downstairs and getting the keycards - Rude went off to report the incident to Tseng, Elena took a shower, which left the pair sitting in the suite lounge. "If we're an Olympics team for bad entries, I think we just hit gold," Arien said, twirling her Sig around as she sat in a chair. Reno was at a laptop, accessing the map of Rufus' hotel. The key clattered as his slender fingers ran its trail across the keyboard. "I don't remember signing up for grand entry shoot-outs."
"Yeah, well, welcome to the Investigation Sector," Reno said vaguely. "Tseng's hunches always prove to be right when I really don't want them to be." Reno clicked away, trying to open an encrypted file. "Hey, you got a decrypter?"
"It's under 'Tools'." Arien continued twirling. "Well, all of us are alive, so that's a bonus… hey Elena."
Elena, who had just come out of the shower, opened the fridge. The lounge was spacious, and the fridge was well-stocked with beverages. She rubbed her head with a white towel as she looked inside. "What was today's shoot-out?" She asked.
"Didn't the dead boys tell you? They wanted Rufus."
"No, they just said things like 'argh' and 'get out of the way'." Elena pulled out a can of beer. The white bathrobe was fluffy and looked comfortable. "I didn't imagine they'd be after anyone." With a click and a hiss of the bubbles escaping, Elena opened the can and took a good drink.
"They were sloppy," Reno said as he stared at the screen. "Sloppy as a three-day stew. Or a girl's vagina already fucked."
"Thanks Reno. I really needed that image." Arien stopped twirling the pistol; the grip landed into her waiting palm with a slap. She holstered the firearm as she leaned forward. "The question is, why did they want Rufus?"
"Why won't anyone want Rufus? He means big money."
"Well, yes, but we enter and the guns go off? Isn't that a little too coincidental? And wouldn't you be a little more careful not to make your target into a target practice?"
Reno turned his head. He had a wry smile on his face. "Well, yeah, but we're Turks. They're not. We're pros."
"True." She saw Rude, who had just finished reporting to Tseng about the shoot-out and was coming out of the adjacent chamber. "Want anything?" Arien asked. "I might order room service."
"Why not go down to the restaurant?" Elena asked as she took the other chair.
"Eating next to the bed where I can just pass out afterwards is far too attractive to pass up." Rude shook his head, gesturing no, and strode over to the coffee machine. He was still wearing sunglasses, and Elena wondered if he ever took them off. Arien was browsing through the room service menu with a bored look on her face, and Reno was impatiently clicking away, waiting for the computer to finish processing.
"Got it!" Reno said triumphantly as the decrypter finally opened the file. "The parade's gonna take the main streets, no tall buildings, should be fairly easy. We just gotta make sure those of us not in the car would follow Rufus. I think one ahead and one behind?"
"That leaves one extra," Elena pointed out. "Who is it going to be?"
Arien pursed her lips. "Reno sitting next to Rufus would be a little too ostentatious," she noted. "Someone should do an aerial anyway. Tseng's going to be in the car, so Rude with Rufus, Reno doing aerial, Elena and me doing ground?"
Rude shrugged, but said, "We need Director here to hammer this out. We need to conference." And with that, none of the Turks argued. But none of them made the call either; it was getting late, and they had a day or two to hammer the details out. They were exhausted from the exertion previous, and Tseng had told Rude to tell all of them to lay low for the night. No one was going to argue with that.
Or so they thought. Rufus, on the other hand, had very different ideas on how to spend the evening; Arien received a call from the new president to come to their hotel, and so off she went, grumbling all the while. Reno, Elena, and Rude were left to their own devices. Rude wandered off - Reno had a tell-tale smirk - and Tseng joined them, coming to their hotel, to brief them on the schedule and logistics. Their main focus was the grand ball that was to be held on the last day of the celebrations, and the Turks, as always, were to be behind closed doors, running surveillance, doing personnel checks, and generally staying out of view.
Except Arien.
Reno scowled at that, but said nothing, as Tseng had hoped. The redhead had already guessed Arien would be singled out before Tseng even mentioned her, but when the director of the Investigation Sector explained in what capacity, he did not look happy. But job was a job, and so the redhead made no objections. He made no objections either when they headed to the Shinra staff only bar in Lower Junon - colloquially called El Junon - but refused to call Arien to let her know where they were, and so Elena did it instead. When Arien picked up, she sounded terse, her answers clipped and short, but Elena did not bother to tell him. That was their business, not hers.
And that was how Cloud found them.
"Now that we're here, Prez's security should be perfetto," Reno was saying. His Costan upbringing showed, and the blue lighting made the pale face look even paler, dying the red hair from carnelian to blood crimson. His sarcastic expression had taken on a lazy gaze. Cloud narrowed his eyes slightly under the helmet. Reno's slender fingers went to his lips, took the cigarette from between them, and carried it to the ashtray. A few women in the bar were staring at him shamelessly; the blond terrorist had no idea what the women saw in him, but apparently the redhead had a charm that was irresistible, since the women's eyes were glued. Reno seemed to know it, but paid it no mind, and instead his eyes caught the sight of a lone Shinra MP standing. He apparently noticed, since the redhead raised an eyebrow, but said nothing to his companions.
"You always loaf on the job when it's boring, Reno," the blonde - Elena - pointed out. Then she turned, and saw the entourage, and froze. Tseng noticed something amiss, and turned his head as well.
"Why are you here?" Tseng asked. His voice was calm. "This is members only. Snuck in, did you?" The leader of the Turks seemed to not really care. "No matter. As long as you don't get in our way."
And then the Turks forgot about Cloud's presence. For one thing, Reno was rather preoccupied with the extremely unpleasant turn of events Rufus' grand ball was taking, and for another, they didn't really care about the things they weren't ordered to, and Cloud was one of them. If Rufus said to hunt him down, they'd be off, but otherwise, they weren't going to do anything for free.
The parade ended without further ado. The Turks skulked in the shadows for the most, not asking questions, Reno in the air, Elena and Arien losing themselves amidst the crowd, Rude and Tseng accompanying Rufus during the parade throughout Junon. By the time it was finished, it was five. Reno was tired. He was used to flying helicopters, but he had been extra-wary, and that had worn down his nerves. The crowd adored the new president calling him innovative and visionary, but the Turks knew better. Rufus was a calculating, scheming bastard who told lies when he could. That was the first thing the members of the Investigation Sector learned when dealing with the blond; when it came to Rufus Shinra, nothing was out of question. Not even patricide. Of course, he had not betrayed them, but it was closer to keeping track of where the favourite pen was rather than anything else; it wasn't out of any sense of honour or affection, and the Turks knew it.
He was spread out on the bed when Arien returned. She had originally planned to come back to the hotel right after the parade, but she had been ordered to stay behind and meet with the celebrated president. Being the obedient employee, she did just as she was told, going over the plans and what was to be expected.
"Yo," he said wearily as Arien came into their room. She was taking off her holster, her dark hair in a ponytail, putting it down onto the table. She turned, saw Reno propping himself up with his elbow, his expression filled with ennui. His eyes were almost sleepy, giving him the look of a cat, pretending to sleep but awaiting for the prey. Her face, looking oddly grim, broke into a faint smile as her eyes gazed upon his face.
"Hi," she said softly. "Everything okay?"
"Saw Chocobo Head at the bar, but yeah." He sat up. "What did the boss man want?"
"Just details for the ball. Dress, hair, that kind of stuff." She pointed to a garment bag she had brought with her. "He already had the dress too."
"Oh?" He glanced at her. "What does it look like?"
Wordless, she picked up the bag, pulling the zipper down. She pulled out what appeared to be a cloud of black and silver, then held it to her body. "Well?"
The dress was black, the fabric falling heavily to the floor. The decorations were black crystals, sprinkled onto the bodice, and Reno could see her throat and her shoulders would be bare; multiple strands fell about. He wondered what it'd look like on her.
"Try it on," he said. Arien narrowed her eyes, but obediently disappeared into the bathroom, re-emerging a few minutes later. And seeing it, Reno felt a fit of rage.
The dress was modest, the sheer cloth falling onto the floor in ripples, but it hugged her body like a lover, showing the shape of her breasts and her waistline, all the way down to her knees. He saw her back exposed, the black chiffon making her look paler, and ropes of black crystals fell about her shoulders. She stood, looking a little lost. "Well?" She asked again.
"I swear, if that bastard even so much as touch you, I'm gonna…"
"Reno." He stopped, saw her frowning.
"Honestly, why couldn't it be 'Laney? She'd do just as well-"
"Elena'll end up looking like Rufus's sister-"
"I'm not jokin', if he-"
"It's a job, Reno," she said. "Why are you feeling so personal about a job?"
"Because guarding Rufus is a job. Being his girlfriend for the night sure as hell ain't!" He snapped. Arien raised an eyebrow.
"Where d'you get that idea?"
"That dress." He pointed at the fabric. "You know when guys make girls wear that kind of dress?"
"It's amply covered. What's the problem?" The dress, indeed, covered her well; the cleavage was not exposed, as it was not cut low enough. No leg showing. In terms of coverage, it was modest.
"It leaves much to imagination. Having your girl wear that kind of dress is rubbing into other guys' face that only you'd know what lies underneath. And trust me, with it that body-hugging, guys would be wondering what's beneath the cloth."
"I doubt he's interested."
"Not as the future Lady Shinra, probably not, but for the night? You gotta remember, his old man had bastards all over Midgar, and their mummies all worked for him."
But when Arien heard that, she laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh, Reno," she said, as she walked away to change. "Only you know what's underneath," her voice travelled to him from the bathroom, a ghostly chortle within its cadence. And he had to be happy with that.
Except her behaviour was odd, in comparison to the other "normal" days, if they had such things. For one thing, Arien went somewhere right after dinner, without really telling him anything, except "I'm going out".
"Where're you goin'?"
"I need to do something. I'll be back in an hour or so. Can I borrow your keys?"
Reno frowned, but tossed his keys to her, who caught it. The keys jangled as the keyring hit her palm. "Thanks," she said as she reached for her wallet. "Ring me if you need anything."
"Yeah yeah." He waved his hand, shooing her away. She left, her footsteps getting farther and farther away, until it was completely inaudible. He lounged around for a few moments longer, then got up and decided to search for Rude, who happened to be in the next room, doing push-ups. Trust the man to be working out, even when they were on a business trip. Not that this was any ordinary business trip by any standards.
"Hey Rude," he said, leaning onto the doorframe for support as he looked down upon the big man who was doing push-ups on the floor, "wanna go for drinks?"
"One-thirty-three… one-thirty-four… gimme a moment to finish… one-thirty-six… one-thirty-seven…"
"Are you doing up to one-fifty?"
"One-forty… yes… one-forty-one… one-forty-two…"
"All-right, I'll wait," Reno said, waiting for Rude to finish the last eight push-ups. The bald operative stood up, stretching; sweat glistened on his dark skin, and he reached for a towel, found it missing, only to have it thrown at him by his redheaded partner. Reno was smoking - again - and Rude wafted the smoke away from his face. His partner was smoking awfully a lot nowadays. It seemed impossible to catch him without a cigarette butt protruding from his mouth.
The two headed down to the hotel bar five minutes later, which was predictably busy, with people crowding Junon for Rufus' inauguration. They took their seats at the counter, Reno facing forward, Rude looking at his partner with some concern. The bartender came to take orders.
"Glenfiddich Twelve," Reno ordered.
"Jack Daniel. No ice."
The bartenders produced the tumblers, and poured the amber liquids into the glasses, pushing them forward. The men took the glasses, the ice in Reno's glass making merry tinkles in a stark opposition to his rather gloomy face. He did not taste the whiskey, but rather continued to swish the glass, making the ice roll around.
"So, what was it you needed?" Rude asked, after going through half the glass. As usual, Reno appeared to not be paying attention.
"Hey, that chick over there?" He jerked his jaw in that direction. "Nice ass."
"Reno."
"And that girl over there in the red dress… damn."
"Reno."
"Yeah?"
"Did something happen with Arien?"
Reno winced slightly at Rude's perceptiveness. Rude didn't say much, but when he did, he made sure the words counted. Which, sometimes, was unwelcome. "Nothing," Reno lied. "What, a guy can't check girls out because he's not single anymore?"
Rude stared at him. Reno could see his pale eyes behind the coloured plastic, which said 'I'm losing my patience, say what you need to say'. Which meant he better fess up now or not talk about it at all.
"Fine, fine," he grudgingly muttered. "It's about Rufus."
Rude turned his head to see his partner. "Oh?" he said, and nothing else. Which was a cue for Reno to continue speaking; and after years of partnership, Reno knew how to read Rude's cues.
"Yeah. Are we even sure Arie's going to be enough?" Reno swallowed the remaining drops of the alcohol in the glass, then called for another. "If it's a pro, it might take more than just one-"
"I'm sure the Director has a reason," Rude said. "DeVir's a competent agent, and this isn't her first mission, Reno. She'll be fine."
Yeah, but who'd refuse Rufus?
Only you know what's underneath, Arien had said with a ghost of a smile and a sidelong glance. Only you.
He recalled the white throat, the shoulders, the tantalising invitation of the neckline. Yes, only he knew what lay beneath the fabric, the woman inside her. And if nothing went wrong, he'd remain so.
Only you.