Veld stayed with Balto outside Zack and Cloud's room in the ICU until Cissnei returned, having had to clean up herself after helping clean Zack up back at the manor. He waited a little longer until Kunsel was there, glad to see that other than some understandable anxiety he seemed much, much less wound up. "Talked to the other SOLDIERs?"

"Yeah, they're going over things now," Kunsel said. "I'll let you know when we've made a decision, if Morrison doesn't call you himself."

Veld nodded. "Then I think I'm going to go have a word with my operatives."

"And the VP?" Kunsel said.

"Probably," he said. "Even if you decide this doesn't work for you, I think that's the best for us."

Kunsel nodded. "I can respect that. Good luck."

"Thanks." Veld smiled faintly and ducked out with a wave to Cissnei, who was currently standing guard outside since Zack had called Balto back in.

Then it was back to the Turk floor. He managed not to startle when Vincent was suddenly beside him when he rounded a corner towards the elevator, arching a brow. "Not a fan of medical these days?"

Vincent gave him a flat look.

Veld smiled faintly, leading them into the elevator and swiping his key card. "Sure about contained spaces?"

"You could fit five or six people in here, it's fine," Vincent said. "Besides, there's a vent."

"You're not that tall, Vin," Veld said.

"I don't think that matters," he said.

Veld glanced at him, arching a brow, but he didn't elaborate and it wasn't worth bothering. "I'll get you that phone after I talk with my people and dig up an instruction manual. Does the gold thing come off, or…?"

"It's a gauntlet, I can feel the arm," Vincent said.

"So you have use of both hands, if necessary," Veld said.

"…maybe," Vincent said. Again, he didn't seem to care to elaborate.

Again, Veld didn't press. "You can work it one-handed."

"Let me see yours?" Vincent asked.

Veld debated it, before pulling it out and holding it out to him.

Vincent took it delicately in his gloved hand, rubbing his thumb along the case before flicking it open. "…I could snap this in half, if I wasn't careful."

Veld considered that. "We'll get you something SOLDIER issued and tweak it to Turk standard, then."

"Appreciated." Vincent handed it back. "You mentioned Anya."

"She's the only one of us still around," Veld said. "Stays over in Junon and runs the academy for me."

"It'd be quite a loss, to move her to SOLDIER," Vincent mused.

"It's a blow I'm willing to take, to keep them," Veld said. "Knowing her, she'd find a way to stay involved anyway, just with two branches."

Vincent snorted. "That sounds like her."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, exiting to a floor that really hadn't changed so much in the past couple decades other than a technology upgrade and more desks. Most of them were full now, and every head went up when they heard him. He saw more than one curious glance at Vincent, but they all looked back to him. Waiting for orders.

Veld smiled faintly and moved to a better position for them all to see him. "There's going to be some changes around here. I want this kept in the full ranks, don't go spreading this down to the rookies yet unless it's someone you're specifically training."

He saw Reno clap Rod on the back of the neck, the former gang leader sitting up and paying closer attention, waiting to hear what had happened. What was going to happen.

And he told them. He told them how Fair and Strife had actually lived and been handed over to Hojo, and how Kunsel had found out and how SOLDIER had collectively issued an ultimatum. Then he told them, if an abbreviated version, about Vincent. And about Felicia. And about how, frankly, he was unable to personally turn a blind eye to what ShinRa was asking them to do any longer.

And when he was done, and he looked at them, he saw nothing but determination.

"What do you need us to do?" Tseng asked.

It didn't take long to organize his team. They were like a well-oiled machine, ever ready for action, and even when given an out they were all immediately on his side without hesitation.

Turks take care of their own, he'd been told when he'd joined. And they did.

They were a small group, but not without allies. SOLDIER was a new alliance, tentative and untried, and he wasn't ready to count on that even if he wanted to. He spent less than ten minutes explaining things to Anya over the phone, getting the unconditional support he knew she'd give him even if he had the distinct feeling that having her on the board of directors was a headache waiting to happen.

But then he was left having to move this plan forward. Because there really was no other option; for them to succeed, Rupert had to go. Even if he agreed to their terms, none of them trusted him after everything he'd authorized.

He should have been ashamed of how easy it was to decide to end a man's life in cold blood. But that, too, was Rupert's fault.

He wasn't sure he wanted to approach Rufus right away, though. Once upon a time he'd practically been a father figure to the boy, but the last few years he'd been increasingly tied up, first with having to increasingly provide intel for SOLDIER and the army in the war, then with the sudden uptick in gang activity that led to the birth of AVALANCHE. And part of him - a large part - felt guilty for neglecting him, because gods knew there was no love lost between father and son.

So instead, he went to speak with someone he'd worked closer with. Someone he'd known even longer. Someone who might know Rufus better than he did, now.

Reeve was, as he always was when he was in Midgar, to be found in his office. This time, he was at his drafting table instead of buried under the endless paperwork that running a city produced. He looked up with a smile when Veld entered that quickly began to fade as something in his manner tipped him off that something wasn't right. "Veld?"

"We need to talk," Veld said quietly.

Reeve arched a brow, but obediently set his pencil and ruler aside and went over to his desk, triggering the security protocols that would scramble even Turk recording devices. Veld would have been irritated if he hadn't developed the technology at his request. "What can I do for you?"

"Zack Fair's alive." He saw the moment the wheels started turning there. "And Hojo's dead."

"Do we have another pending defection?" Reeve asked carefully.

"Maybe." Veld sighed, settling into a chair when Reeve sat in his own. "They're pissed as hell, obviously. But there's… a tentative agreement that should a few key things change, they might be willing to stay on."

"They want an independent department again, I'm sure," Reeve said.

"I'm thinking of putting Anya there," Veld said.

Reeve stared at him. "Anya? You have four Firsts to pick from and your first thought is to ask Anya, when she didn't even want to be Director of Administrative Research? Are you sure she won't kill you?"

"She's not happy about it, but with any luck it's a temporary measure, and they'll be able to be trained into self-sufficiency," Veld said.

Reeve shook his head. "The President will never… oh."

It said a lot about the influence he'd had on the younger man that he put it together so quickly, Veld thought.

"Oh, Veld." Reeve pressed his palms together, resting his chin on his fingers and staring at him. "Does Rufus know?"

"I haven't talked to him yet," Veld admitted. "We've… been out of sync for a while. I was wondering if you might have some insight on his current headspace."

"I mean, he hates Rupert. He's hated Rupert since he was a child," Reeve said.

"He's not exactly been happy with me lately, either," Veld said.

"He never hated you, Veld, even when you make him angry," Reeve said. "But I will admit he's been… odd, lately."

Veld arched a brow. "Odd how?"

Reeve sighed, shaking his head. "Mood swings. Sometimes he's cagey and distracted, frustrated with how things are going more than anything, I think, but sometimes he does seem genuinely happy with his position."

"I suspect he'd be even happier in the President's chair," Veld said.

"Do you think he's ready?" Reeve asked.

"Odd question for a man who took over City Planning at eighteen," Veld said. "He's been groomed for this even more than you were."

"I suppose he has," Reeve agreed.

"But you still have reservations," Veld observed.

Reeve made a frustrated sound. "It's silly."

"Talk to me, Reeve," Veld said.

"I can't even tell you what it is, I just…" Reeve sighed. "I shouldn't doubt him. He has been trained for this, and there's nothing he wants more than to take ShinRa over and watch it flourish."

"But?"

"But..." Reeve shook his head. "I don't know, Veld. Something just doesn't sit right."

Veld hummed thoughtfully. Reeve had excellent instincts when it came to insights about a person's character. To hear him be hesitant about Rufus, when they'd both been holding out hope for so long for the day Rufus finally took over, was a bit of a shock. "You have no idea?"

"None," he said. "It's just a gut feeling."

Veld rubbed his mouth. "I can't base my actions on a gut feeling, Reeve, but I'll keep it in mind."

"He's our best bet, I know," Reeve said. "He's still a step up. I know that. I believe that."

"Then that will have to be enough," Veld said. "I'll speak with him."