Veld rushed to the monitors the moment he'd gotten dressed, 'injury' forgotten - well, pushed aside - in his urgency to see what was going on. He wished badly they'd had a headset or earpiece for Vincent instead of relying on a phone, which would take time to answer - time he might not have, in a tight situation.

They'd sent Ravens, which wasn't really a surprise if they considered them a threat. Of course, one would think without Fuhito there wouldn't be more Ravens, which made them less expendable than AVALANCHE had been treating them. But they had to know it would take force to get into the Junon Military Base.

One had to ask what even possessed them to try. Was it a father's twisted hope that she was coming after him, or a Turks' paranoia that said the rest of AVALANCHE had singled him out as a threat? Did it matter, if the end result was the same?

He found he really didn't care why they were there. He could analyze it to death and never get anywhere. What he needed now was to see her again. To have Vincent find her, and bring her home, where she belonged. Where he could drag her in to Rayleigh's team of mako and materia experts and have them help her, because there was always a price for that kind of strength. He didn't trust it. He'd seen what happened to SOLDIERs who pulled too hard on their magic reserves, it wasn't pretty.

It occurred to him that they would have two guesses for where he'd gone - medical, if they'd realized they'd successfully shot him, and the Turk's headquarters. The Turks could handle themselves, of course, but he immediately sent a note down to medical to put themselves on security lockdown for their own safety. It just wasn't worth the risk.

Then his cameras caught a flare of red as Vincent arrived where the SOLDIERs and Ravens were fighting, and his attention was entirely taken up by the scene. He gripped the console so tight it creaked under the powerful grip of his prosthetic, Anya's light touch on his arm bringing him the presence of mind to let it go before he broke something.

God, standing on the sidelines was killing him.

And the one thing that made it so much worse, even with the painful surge of hope, was when he saw his daughter again - facing off with his best friend. With that glow and how fast he healed, Veld would have put him up on par with the Firsts, up on par with her, but he was going in compromised. He was fighting to subdue, to either talk her down or bring her in by whatever means necessary. She looked like she wouldn't mind having to kill him to get him out of her way.

He had to trust Vincent's skill would be enough.

"Where is my father?" Elfé demanded. She had her sword drawn, a tangible threat though it wasn't yet aimed at him, the tip of the katana pointed towards the floor. But Vincent had used katanas, when he was younger. Even without fully knowing what her materia-enhanced skills had done to her speed and strength, he knew it was a fast, graceful weapon in the hands of any skilled warrior. He would have to be careful. "What have you done with him?"

"Given one of your people shot him, I brought him to be taken care of," Vincent said mildly. He had to give her credit, she didn't wince at his point, merely narrowed her eyes. "I'm afraid he's going to need care before he can speak with you."

"Take me to him," she said.

"Call off your operatives," he retorted evenly. "There are innocent people in danger."

"There are no innocents in ShinRa," she said.

"A narrow, self-righteous view," Vincent said darkly. "But I suppose we all have to tell ourselves these things as we go through life destroying families, orphaning children, and killing innocents in the name of our cause, don't we?"

"Don't tell me we're the same," she hissed, showing the first spark of concrete emotion in their encounter.

Even if it was in anger, he latched on to it. "Are we not? We both serve the greater goals of an organization that sits on a throne of blood and broken bodies. Forget the ShinRa employees in the reactors, do you know how much civilian damages are done by the destruction of a reactor? How many died? How many were left with broken families and nothing but the singed clothes on their backs? You, of all people, I would expect to understand the true devastation of a bomb, Felicia."

She winced, tiny but there, her hand tightening around her hilt. "You keep calling me that."

"It's your name," Vincent said. "…but you don't remember that, do you?"

She was tellingly silent, lips pursed.

Vincent prowled towards her, red eyes never leaving her - he knew better, she was tense without a sign of the weakness that had brought her to her knees before, still and silent but a predator in her own right. And he knew better than to take his eyes off a predator. Even one he hoped to tame.

"I could tell," Vincent said, quiet, conversational. As if she wasn't wound so tight she could burst into violence at any moment, if she didn't like what she heard. Instinct said he could take her, but he didn't want it to come to that. He stayed calm. "He thought you were dead, you know. The second he realized who you were, he's been trying to track you down."

"To what ends?" She asked. "He's a Turk, isn't he? They've been trying to dismantle AVALANCHE. The President wants us dead."

Vincent hummed quietly, weighing his words. "You can't tell me realizing he's your father hasn't changed anything."

"I won't abandon my cause," she said firmly.

"But you want to see him," he said. "To convert him?"

"I…" She hesitated, uncertain.

It was entirely possible, he mused, that she hadn't gotten that far. Or in the least, no one had made her articulate it. She was running on instinct and emotion. Not unlike her father, though he'd credit Veld with more strategy.

"He wants to see you," he said, instead of forcing her to work through it aloud. "But not like this. Not with your Ravens bursting down the door and AVALANCHE at our throats. He has people he's responsible for, even if certain loyalties are… questionable."

"Questionable?" She pounced on it, watching him closely.

"He believed you were dead. ShinRa's people told him so." Vincent arched a brow. "That was a lie. Veld has never taken being lied to well."

She swallowed, tightening her grip on her sword. "I see."

"He wants his daughter back," Vincent said quietly.

She frowned faintly. "I don't remember being his daughter."

"And yet you came for him," Vincent pointed out.

Elfé smiled thinly. "So I did."

"I can take you to him," Vincent said. "But only you."

It was clear she was torn. She wanted to see him, but… "He's not the only one with a responsibility for people."

"You could meet on neutral ground," Vincent offered.

She nodded slowly. "I could do that."

"Then perhaps -"

There was an explosion, and he turned, looking back, mind racing over the blueprints of the base to place where the smoke was coming from.

Somehow, they'd made it inwards to Turk territory. Veld…

"I'll find you," he said shortly.

"Wait -"

"Your little friends have put him in danger," Vincent said, giving her a sharp look as she sucked in a breath. "Apparently you didn't think to tell them to be careful with him."

"They were just supposed to retrieve him," she said.

"Excuse my skepticism," he said. "You may be his priority, but he's mine. And I only promised him your safety."

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"His partner," he said, leaving her behind to make of that what she would. Veld and Anya were good, but that was a risk he wouldn't take.

It felt like entirely too long to rush back to where he knew Veld would have settled, following a path of smoking ruin and the bodies of those who hadn't gotten out of their way in time - less than he'd expected, at least. They were focused on Veld this time, not on wrecking as much havoc as possible. Little blessings.

But they'd made it nearly to him when he arrived, breaking down the reinforced door. Anya and Veld had opened fire - literal fire in one case, he watched a Fira take one of them down in a blazing streak. But he'd feel infinitely better when he was between them and these creatures. They may have looked like people, but looking in their eyes… something was missing. They were people once. Not anymore.

The thought to call out of them was fleeting. Instead, he pulled his gun and opened fire himself. Cerberus packed far more of a punch than either of their firearms, three massive rounds loosed at a time, enough to stagger even these creatures. There was no missing the sound, proof enough for Veld that he'd returned.

Perhaps the Ravens were able to sense him as clearly as he'd sensed them, undeniably as much of a predator, if not more. Regardless, they turned as one to face him, snarling, and lunged.

Cerberus was not made for close combat, but a little mess had never stopped him from firing before and he wasn't afraid to use it as a blunt weapon, either. It was the speed of it that was hard, and how many of them there were. He lashed out with his gauntleted hand, claws slashing like knives, driving them back. There was more gunfire from the others, pulling at least one off of him, and he cursed softly. This was not a fight he wanted them in. But when had Veld ever sat something out when he thought he could help?

The unfortunate thing, was they were both distracted. They weren't used to each other anymore, weren't familiar with the new skills and finesse they'd picked up.

And it nearly cost them more than Vincent was willing to pay.

He saw the flash of a blade out of the corner of his eye and knew, instinctively, there was no way Veld could block at that angle. Even if he did, the force they were capable of would be too much. In the breath between panic and resolve, he was gone, flying through the air in crimson mist in time to get in the way.

He'd meant to grab him and keep moving. He'd never intended it to be a sacrifice.

In the split second between mist and 'solid enough to touch' pain exploded across his back and everything went black.