Disclaimer: FFVII = Square. Duh.
A/N: Apologies for the last, very lame, chapter. I PROMISE this one won't suck as bad.
Chapter 10: Captured
Cloud and Barret sat grumpily in the back of the still somewhat popular bar. The former Shinra hang out spot was now open to the public, just as Cloud had anticipated. Unfortunately, nothing had turned up in the past hour. Granted, he didn't really expect to find him in just an hour of searching one of the largest city's in the world, but that didn't mean it still didn't piss him off.
The bar was moderately full. Luckily for them, the only person to notice them was the bartender. Their faces had become somewhat famous over the past year and most could recognize them instantly. But, Cloud and Barret arrived here before any of them did. When each inhabitant entered, they didn't even bother to look in their direction.
Cloud's eyes wandered about the room. A few ex-SOLDIERS still too attached to Shinra to take off their suits were standing near the door talking together, completely ignoring everyone else. A man wearing something strikingly similar to the stereotypical chocobo jockey's uniform sat by himself, sipping a beer at the bar. His face seemed familiar to Cloud, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
He shook the thought out of his mind and continued down the bar, down to the man who he'd been watching this whole time. He estimated that the man stood around six feet. His hair was short, black, and spiked. He wore a perfectly crease black suit with a white shirt and a silver tie. He hid his eyes behind pitch black sunglasses. There was something very suspicious about him.
The front door of the bar flung open, snapping Cloud out of his analysis. Tifa and red leisurely strolled through. From Tifa's almost pleasant gait, Cloud could infer that they had not found any bad news yet. Unfortunately, in this situation bad news was still better than no news.
Everyone else in the bar turned eyes of curiosity at the two, most likely do to the large canine with tattoos and a tail of fire. Everyone's eyes quickly returned to what they were doing previously, expect for one pair. The jockey's eyes remain fixed on the two, but instead of curiosity, discomfort and worry filled his eyes.
The black clad man quickly paid for his drink and collected his over-sized, flamboyant hat from the bar. Without blinking an eye, he was headed for the door. He quickly brushed past Tifa and, from the sound of the footsteps, began sprinting down the street.
Tifa, unlike Cloud, didn't have a tough time identifying the man. "What's wrong with Joe?"
That's it! Cloud's mind leapt at the sudden realization. It was Joe, the mysterious chocobo rider that could never seem to lose. And that damned hat; Cloud should've at least recognized the hat. Something about Tifa must've startled him. Or maybe he didn't like dogs.
No, that wasn't it. Joe never noticed Cloud or Barret sitting at the bar because he came in after them. But Red and Tifa he could see plain as day. It must've been the fact that they were AVALANCHE members. This was too suspicious to pass up.
As he jumped up from his seat, his loud voice quickly made his presence known to the rest of the bar. "After him!"
"Geee THANKS guys! It was so boring sitting in this dusty storage closet for a whole year." Cid didn't have much trouble getting Cait up and running again. A toy cat was nothing compared to the Highwind.
"Shut up ya stupid cat! We ain't supposed ta be in here. Yer gonna get us caught!"
Yuffie quickly leaned over to whisper in Cid's ear. "But this place is closed down. There's no one in here to catch us."
Cid didn't bother to lower his voice. He figured Cait was too stupid to figure out what he meant anyway. "But he doesn't know that."
The cat tilted his head in confusion. "Who doesn't know what?"
Ignoring Cait's question, Vincent spoke up. "We should leave." Something was wrong outside. Another benefit of Hojo's experimentation: heightened hearing.
"Who doesn't know what?"
Yuffie hopped up and poked Vincent teasingly ( a poke he quickly retracted from). "Awww, is poor little Vinnie scared?"
"Is anyone going to tell me who doesn't know what?"
Vincent only took a quick moment to give Yuffie an icy glare before heading for the door. He didn't need to explain anything to any of them, they'd soon find out for themselves.
The cat part of Cait Sith's body popped it's head in front of Yuffie's. "C'mon, Yuff-ster. You know not to poke fun at Vincent... Now, who doesn't know what?"
All three Turks ran frantically, dodging whatever bullets decided to come their way. Reno desperately reached into the depths of his mind for something familiar. Every good Turk knew that knowledge of the battle field was a great help in evening out the odds. Every excellent Turk knew the layout of Midgar like that back of his hand.
This rubble was so strange to him. If this had happened a little more than a year ago, their assailants would be dead already. But not in this strange rubble. He had to get them to some place he knew better.
Despite his lack of knowledge of the intricacies of the city, post-Meteor, he still knew where he generally was: close to his saving point. The old Shinra Building, no matter how decimated, was familiar turf to any Turk, even Elena.
Well before they reached the street in front of Shinra Headquarters, Cid, Yuffie and Cait Sith knew what Vincent was so worried about. His advanced sense of hearing had managed to pick up on the sound of gunshots from 60 some-odd floors up.
"Who the fuck could that be?" Cid's question went unanswered as the rest of the groups began darting for the door. He soon followed suit.
Reno and company were never happier to see a few members of AVALANCHE. Whatever the hell these things were certainly knew how to use a semi-automatic. They weren't all that bad at dodging bullets either. But none of that phased Reno. He and Rude had disposed of their fair share of gun-savvy "terrorists" in their day.
What was so surprising was their relentlessness. With 27 shots that hit dead on (Reno always counted his bullets, along with Rude and Elena's; it was a a sort of nervous tick), only 5 assailants lay dead. Watching one in particular get up from a point-blank shot to the back even left Rude with his mouth agape.
Vincent, with his inhuman speed, had a large lead on the rest of the group. He was there waiting for them when they emerged. "Back! And get down!"
He signaled to a pillar with a barely large enough base to protect the three. In the sudden rush and the confusion that came along with it, none thought to protest.
Yuffie's fear added to the loud gunshots going off all around her made it impossible for her to hear Vincent yelling at her. She hadn't noticed that half of her body was still hanging out into the open, but Vincent did. He didn't have time to make her hear him, the Turks needed his help. Taking matters into his own hands, he swiftly scooped up Yuffie and pressed her protectively against his chest as he ran with her towards the next plausible covering: a pile of debris.
Yuffie suddenly felt her fear drain. She couldn't tell you were she was if you asked, but she liked it. It was warm and bright. It was comfortable, like her mother's arms. Mama, are you there? She had passed out.
Vincent's crimson eyes locked on to one of the members of this army attacking the Turks and examined. Male. Human, or at least was human at one time. Grey-ish green skin. Army fatigues. Shinra issue automatic rifle. Bright green eyes. Too similar to the boys he had taken care of the day prior. He could only assume this is what one of those boys would've looked like if he lived long enough to let the effects of whatever had been done to him kick in.
"Valentine!" Reno was calling his name and making a very strange gesture with his hand. It was a Turk signal. Apparently, this group hadn't noticed Vincent yet, and Reno wanted him to try and circle around the perimeter and hit them in the back. Easy enough.
Elena's heart pounded. In reality, she was still a fairly new Turk. Reno and Rude had been doing their jobs for over half a decade now, Elena was just finishing up her second year. She had never experienced a gunfight of this magnitude before, and it was a little unnerving. What was more unnerving was what she had just found on the ground - a trail of blood leading straight to Rude.
Blood tickled the side of Rude's torso as he fired a round into one of these mutated soldier's chest. A sharp pain shot through his arm with every pull of the trigger; his right shoulder had been hit on their way here. That shit had better kill him...
Reno glanced over to his partners. Rude had a little scratch, not something foreign to the silent Turk. The only harm done to Elena was mental; she'd get over it. With his mind at ease, he began returning fire on the group of three that had been mercilessly tearing apart his temporary shelter.
His clip emptied quickly. Bullet One: Center soldier's right arm. Bullet Two: Center soldier's chest. Bullet Three: Air. Bullet Four: Left soldier's neck. Bullet Five: Air. Bullet Six: Left soldier's forehead. Bullet Seven: Right soldier's right thigh. Bullet Eight: Right soldier's stomach. Bullet Nine: Air. Bullet Ten: Center soldier's left thigh.
Seven out of ten, not bad... So now, he had: One dead left soldier. One center soldier with a damaged firing arm, a major limp, and a hard time breathing. One right soldier with a hole in it's stomach and a sudden need to lean on something for support. Three more soldier's come to back up their pals.
So now, he had five guns firing at him instead of three. The three newest of those five were now moving forward. This was getting to close for comfort. Whenever Reno was uncomfortable in battle, he'd make sure his Electro-Mag rod would make everyone else feel a little discomfort.
Fully extended and set to kill, Reno jumped into action. As he nimbly dodge the constant hail of bullets, Reno hoped that these things knew what fear was. Once within a few feet's reach (and luckily with only a few tears in his jacket to show for it), Reno put his plan in motion.
A surprised soldier that happened to be standing too close to Reno learned what electricity tasted like. Pulling the convulsing body back with him, Reno began his retreat. No, these things weren't scared by the pain of electrocution, but they certainly were stupid enough to riddle their ally's body with bullet holes. Dumbasses...
A few more bullets were exchanged before Reno began to feel a bit helpless. This wasn't some videogame: ammunition ran out in real life. Well, that is, unless you're some psycho grey skinned soldier with ten thousand friends.
He needed to find a way out of here. Reno usually thought that a cornered rat was a dangerous thing, but this cornered rat was tired and running low on ammo. Nothing looked promising. He'd have to run from covering to covering, hoping he won't die along the way. So, he ran. He wasn't lucky enough to make it to the near-by pillar without taking a bullet in the leg to show for it.
Things were looking bleak. That was, until three unnaturally quiet gunshots were faintly heard over the massive symphony of destruction. Reno's new hiding spot had put him close enough to get cover fire from Vincent's perch atop a large pile of rubble.
The three shots, like almost all of Vincent's shots, were head shots. He took out the three freshest attackers, the ones advancing on Reno. He assumed the young Turk could finish off the damaged ones.
Vincent's eyes began to survey the battlefield. Three soldiers lay dead in a row as a result of the Sniper ST resting in Vincent's human hand. Two, badly injured, were dong their best to flush Reno out of his hiding spot. One lays dead next to those two from Reno's Desert Eagle. Two more are dead a few feet behind them, also as a result of Reno. Rude has already laid to waste three and was battling his fourth. Elena has one kill on her score board and one still alive firing on her.
That's fourteen. Didn't he count fifteen the first time through? He's eyes quickly scanned the ground bellow him again. Still only fourteen. Where the hell could number fifteen be? A sharp, high pitched scream from behind quickly answered his question.
He turned just in time to see one of the grey skinned demons carrying Yuffie over it's back. Vincent instantaneously sprung into action. He had no trouble staying on the thing's tail, but it was the first time Vincent hadn't been able to catch up to something he was chasing. These things had incredible speed.
Before he knew it, he was in a sewer. "Vincent!" It was the first time Yuffie had noticed Vincent was after her. "Vincent! Help!"
Her help came in the form of two bullets from the Quicksilver: one to the back of each of the soldier's knees. It quickly fell, dropping Yuffie to it's side, but it was far from dead. Not wishing to have Yuffie caught in the cross fire, Vincent ended things quickly with a bullet to the head. That was the only thing that seemed to kill these things.
An excessively large fist crashed into the wall next to his head. Two voices filled his ears. One belonged to the owner of the fist, yelling obscenities at him, demanding he talk. The other came from a younger boy, pleading kindly, yet sternly, that he tell them something.
How had he gotten himself into this? Why the hell did he need a beer so bad? Why the hell did he need to get it at that bar? Joe didn't even make eye contact with his questioners. If they wanted to get anything out of him, they'd have to do a lot better than this.
"Barret! Calm down." Cloud hoped he could get through to his large friend. Joe had put up a rather dirty fight to try and get away from them. His below the belt shot to Barret made the AVALANCHE founder angry, to say the least.
Tifa's soothing voice soon followed, sealing off Barret's rage temporarily. "Yeah, we'll never get through to him like this."
A moment of silence passed as all eyes shifted to Joe, back pressed against a solid wall of a Junon alley way. Cloud soon began his interrogation again. "Joe, who do you work for? I'm willing to cut you a deal if you let us know what we want. I don't think you have any idea what you're getting yourself into by working for whoever this is..."
Joe's mind began to wander, no longer listening to whatever was spilling out of Cloud's mouth. This little punk could never even beat him in a Chocobo Race, and suddenly he was Mr. Bigshot? How was this kid even sure Joe was working for anyone? For all they know, they could be harassing some poor old man while the real conspirator was scott-free by now.
"If I tell you something, will you shut up for a bit?" Joe's forehead creased as he glared at the blond standing before him.
"Fine."
Wow, that was easy. This kid must really have no clue what he's doing. "The guy you're looking for is gone. Left Junon a couple of days ago." Joe's face contorted into a twisted grin as he recalled what his leader had left behind. "Left your pals down in Midgar a gift when he left..."
"Shut yo ass up, foo'!" Yes, Barret did realize that he had just told the man they had been trying to get to speak for hours to shut up, but no one bad mouth's Midgar. He had helped Reeve too much to let anyone disrespect such hard work.
After a few moments of deliberation it was decided. Joe was coming back to Kalm with them. There was no way to tell if he was telling the truth, but that didn't matter. If the kidnapper wasn't in Junon, than there was no reason to stay. If he was in Junon, than it wouldn't be safe to stay. And Joe obviously knew more than he was saying, so it was a given that he'd be tagging along.
The Turks weren't exactly surprised to find out that not all of the ten fallen enemies were actually dead. Now nine stood, guns in hand, firing at anything in a blue suit. Damn those Turk uniforms! Rude had began to slow from the blood loss. Reno could barely feel his leg. Elena had broken a heel. Things were not looking good.
Automatic fire had been answered by single shots from various pistols for so long now, that when the new sounds of fully automatics entered the fray, the Turks had to pause to see what was going on.
Reno was first to grasp the answer. "What the fuck took you so long?"
The two friendly faces, one male and one female, simply smiled and opened the floodgates on the soldiers left...
A/N: Gasp? Who are these two mysterious gun-slingers? I hinted to it a few chapters back, let's see who can remember. Anywho. Sorry for the rather lame action sequences. That stuff takes concentration for me, and at 4:45 in the morning, I don't have much of ANYTHING, let alone concentration. Hope you guys enjoyed. Hope this made up for the last shitty shitty chapter. Please please PLEASE review!