Silver Rose 2
by Reno Spiegel
Dante@towernetwork.net
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March 8, 3078
Night. Midgar Streets. Sephiroth's Cougar. 9:01 P.M.
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"Irvine K., super-sniper." Irvine, ShinRa Building
.
.
Jinaisim and I are sitting in my Cougar when we get the first radio call from Reno in the truck, three blocks behind us so we don't look suspicious.
As if.
Mako Dreams is playing in the background. Jinaisim admits, he likes the music, just not to fond of the one who sings it.
I understand him.
Reno's first transmission, from the radio on the guns placed between us, is shaky due to the fact he's in the bed of a truck. "You're gonna see a house with a big iron cross hanging over the door. Pull in the driveway and around the back of the garage. He should be sitting on the steps. If he's not, radio me immediately."
In about two minutes, we come upon the house. It's a two-level shack, really, with the iron cross hanging over the door. I follow the instructions, but there are no lights in the house. I hold my position for about two minutes, then reach for the radio.
It's not there.
I turn to see what Jinaisim's doing, then I see the gunbarrel pointed at me. I start, then it lowers and a man with long, brown hair and a cowboy outfit -- no, too real to be just a costume -- smirks at me. "That's two minutes past Reno's usual "immediately," kid." After handing over the radio, he stretches his hand out to Jinaisim, then me.
"Irvine Kinneas. Old drinking buddy of Reno's."
We introduce ourselves, then he gets in the back and starts polishing his gun as we pull out of the driveway and start moving again. I glance at him in the mirror. "So, Reno never told us... What's the plan with you?"
Irvine just smiles. "Never disclose that kind of information to someone who I only know the first name and face of. Just keep moving, buddy. It'll all work out."
I don't argue with him. Reno's contacts don't usually talk much, especially Dais, though we both knew him. Rude, though, never really talks. Jinaisim talks when he's mouthing off or getting down to business. I suppose I never got the pattern before.
I check the clock on the radio. Right about now, Cloud is arriving at the building with their coffee grounds. In fifteen minutes, break will end and everyone will go back on shift, so they'll be itching for some caffeine. Nighty-night, guards. Shortly afterward, Reno and Dais will enter the building through the front doors, wipe out that floor, and call Cloud down.
Then Jinaisim and I will launch into the elevator, no matter what floor it's on, and ride to the top. If we're lucky, Rufus will be in his office, oblivious to what's going on seventy floors down. If he's not, we go to Hojo's lab and see what he'd been cooking up before he died. Once we take him out...if we do...I suppose we blow the building.
Unless Reno has other plans.
As soon as we're close to the building, the truck speeds past us and screeches into a parking space. They must have decided the guards passed out on the stairs were sign enough they didn't need the ruse, because Reno, Rude, Dais, and Irvine all scramble out of the truck -- former -- and the Cougar -- latter. Reno is screaming into his radio for Cloud to show up as soon as he possibly can, and Jinaisim and I just sit there stunned.
He whistles. "Well, bit more effective than an old woman in a bonnet."
I open the door and take my Masamune from under the sheath, then toss the blanket off the bulky grappling hooks in the back. Jinaisim follows my moves, taking a shotgun from under his seat, and we wait for the elevator to rise up to the fiftieth floor or above. It seems to be there already, so I nod to my partner, take careful aim at the glass -- not bulletproof, so we think twenty-pound metal hooks at well over the speed of an average car can get can do the job -- and fire the hook. He does the same, a bit above mine.
Lucky for us, they hit just where we had planned. I hit the red button on the side of mine first, and suddenly I'm airborne, not able to resist the urge to cry out a long "YAHOO" as I speed toward the glass, to which the hook is lodged. Reno never gave me the specifics of the design, but my ascent slows about a foot before the glass and I jump forward, through the hole I'd made. After dropping maybe ten feet, I hit the floor on my side.
A wake-up call to my shoulder, but I'll live. In ten seconds, Jinaisim is on top of me.
"I retract that."
He looks confused and makes no effort to move. "What?"
I frown at him. "Get off me, fatass." After complying, we stand up and throw the hooks back out the elevator "window," then he swipes his card through and, surprisingly, the elevator recognizes us.
"I'm going to stop at sixty-five and make sure it's all clear. You go up and deal with Rufus," he tells me. Something's strange about his voice, but I ignore it. The night is moving too fast for me to consider everything that comes up. The elevator chimes when we reach sixty-five, and he dashes out, calling good luck back to me.
I hit Executive Office, which will take me to floor sixty-nine. Up one flight of stairs and I'll be in Rufus' office. I reach the level with no hassle. The lights are all dimmed and the offices appear to be empty, with no signs of struggle, so I figure they went home for the night. Light pours down the crimson stairs, so I think he must still be up there.
The Masamune is in my hand automatically, and I raise my heels from the tile floor. Stealth. Moving quickly, I dart around desks and go up the carpeted stairs. The handrail, however, has streaks of blood all along it, and I doubt this is a good omen.
Upon hitting the landing to the office, my grip on my sword loosens and I break out in a cold sweat. One leg propped up against his chest, the other straight out, and slumped against the front of the desk, is Rufus ShinRa. His eyes are devoid of most life, though he's still sputtering at no one, and looks highly amused to see me here.
Despite the dagger he's twisting round and round in his own stomach.
"Glad you showed up," he rasps as I draw closer. The man barely has enough energy to do this. Shooting me or something of the like is out of range of this guy's abilities. Surprisingly, he likes to talk even as he dies. "I woke up like this, about half an hour ago. Since then, I suppose you could say I've been...twiddling my thumbs."
"Rufus..." I feel some final moment of sympathy for him. I was supposed to kill him. He turned up dead. "Who did this?"
He shrugs lightly and spits out blood. His eyelids shudder for a moment, then he opens them wide and looks at me. "No idea. Woke up here. Your...last payment...check...chair...not me..." His voice crackles once, and he makes some gurgling sound, then nothing. The dagger falls limp.
"Check chair. Not me." I repeat it, then walk over to the chair, which has been pulled this way, and is facing away from me. My "last" pay had been a sack of gil. I expect a midget with a machine gun to be sitting there, the the dead President jumping up and yelling "Surprise!"
What I get is, you could say, a fuck of a lot worse than a midget blowing my brains out.
What I get is the mutilated corpse of my wife.
.
.
.
Author's Note: I will be taking no questions about this chapter. Ask me and I will change the subject on you. Just know that there are no smoke-and-mirrors this far in. And I'm not trying to be cheap and get out of writing for awhile; this story is, in all honesty, my baby, and I wish it could go on until the world burns up in the expansion of the sun. But, yes. Straight-out honesty here.
by Reno Spiegel
Dante@towernetwork.net
.
.
.
March 8, 3078
Night. Midgar Streets. Sephiroth's Cougar. 9:01 P.M.
.
"Irvine K., super-sniper." Irvine, ShinRa Building
.
.
Jinaisim and I are sitting in my Cougar when we get the first radio call from Reno in the truck, three blocks behind us so we don't look suspicious.
As if.
Mako Dreams is playing in the background. Jinaisim admits, he likes the music, just not to fond of the one who sings it.
I understand him.
Reno's first transmission, from the radio on the guns placed between us, is shaky due to the fact he's in the bed of a truck. "You're gonna see a house with a big iron cross hanging over the door. Pull in the driveway and around the back of the garage. He should be sitting on the steps. If he's not, radio me immediately."
In about two minutes, we come upon the house. It's a two-level shack, really, with the iron cross hanging over the door. I follow the instructions, but there are no lights in the house. I hold my position for about two minutes, then reach for the radio.
It's not there.
I turn to see what Jinaisim's doing, then I see the gunbarrel pointed at me. I start, then it lowers and a man with long, brown hair and a cowboy outfit -- no, too real to be just a costume -- smirks at me. "That's two minutes past Reno's usual "immediately," kid." After handing over the radio, he stretches his hand out to Jinaisim, then me.
"Irvine Kinneas. Old drinking buddy of Reno's."
We introduce ourselves, then he gets in the back and starts polishing his gun as we pull out of the driveway and start moving again. I glance at him in the mirror. "So, Reno never told us... What's the plan with you?"
Irvine just smiles. "Never disclose that kind of information to someone who I only know the first name and face of. Just keep moving, buddy. It'll all work out."
I don't argue with him. Reno's contacts don't usually talk much, especially Dais, though we both knew him. Rude, though, never really talks. Jinaisim talks when he's mouthing off or getting down to business. I suppose I never got the pattern before.
I check the clock on the radio. Right about now, Cloud is arriving at the building with their coffee grounds. In fifteen minutes, break will end and everyone will go back on shift, so they'll be itching for some caffeine. Nighty-night, guards. Shortly afterward, Reno and Dais will enter the building through the front doors, wipe out that floor, and call Cloud down.
Then Jinaisim and I will launch into the elevator, no matter what floor it's on, and ride to the top. If we're lucky, Rufus will be in his office, oblivious to what's going on seventy floors down. If he's not, we go to Hojo's lab and see what he'd been cooking up before he died. Once we take him out...if we do...I suppose we blow the building.
Unless Reno has other plans.
As soon as we're close to the building, the truck speeds past us and screeches into a parking space. They must have decided the guards passed out on the stairs were sign enough they didn't need the ruse, because Reno, Rude, Dais, and Irvine all scramble out of the truck -- former -- and the Cougar -- latter. Reno is screaming into his radio for Cloud to show up as soon as he possibly can, and Jinaisim and I just sit there stunned.
He whistles. "Well, bit more effective than an old woman in a bonnet."
I open the door and take my Masamune from under the sheath, then toss the blanket off the bulky grappling hooks in the back. Jinaisim follows my moves, taking a shotgun from under his seat, and we wait for the elevator to rise up to the fiftieth floor or above. It seems to be there already, so I nod to my partner, take careful aim at the glass -- not bulletproof, so we think twenty-pound metal hooks at well over the speed of an average car can get can do the job -- and fire the hook. He does the same, a bit above mine.
Lucky for us, they hit just where we had planned. I hit the red button on the side of mine first, and suddenly I'm airborne, not able to resist the urge to cry out a long "YAHOO" as I speed toward the glass, to which the hook is lodged. Reno never gave me the specifics of the design, but my ascent slows about a foot before the glass and I jump forward, through the hole I'd made. After dropping maybe ten feet, I hit the floor on my side.
A wake-up call to my shoulder, but I'll live. In ten seconds, Jinaisim is on top of me.
"I retract that."
He looks confused and makes no effort to move. "What?"
I frown at him. "Get off me, fatass." After complying, we stand up and throw the hooks back out the elevator "window," then he swipes his card through and, surprisingly, the elevator recognizes us.
"I'm going to stop at sixty-five and make sure it's all clear. You go up and deal with Rufus," he tells me. Something's strange about his voice, but I ignore it. The night is moving too fast for me to consider everything that comes up. The elevator chimes when we reach sixty-five, and he dashes out, calling good luck back to me.
I hit Executive Office, which will take me to floor sixty-nine. Up one flight of stairs and I'll be in Rufus' office. I reach the level with no hassle. The lights are all dimmed and the offices appear to be empty, with no signs of struggle, so I figure they went home for the night. Light pours down the crimson stairs, so I think he must still be up there.
The Masamune is in my hand automatically, and I raise my heels from the tile floor. Stealth. Moving quickly, I dart around desks and go up the carpeted stairs. The handrail, however, has streaks of blood all along it, and I doubt this is a good omen.
Upon hitting the landing to the office, my grip on my sword loosens and I break out in a cold sweat. One leg propped up against his chest, the other straight out, and slumped against the front of the desk, is Rufus ShinRa. His eyes are devoid of most life, though he's still sputtering at no one, and looks highly amused to see me here.
Despite the dagger he's twisting round and round in his own stomach.
"Glad you showed up," he rasps as I draw closer. The man barely has enough energy to do this. Shooting me or something of the like is out of range of this guy's abilities. Surprisingly, he likes to talk even as he dies. "I woke up like this, about half an hour ago. Since then, I suppose you could say I've been...twiddling my thumbs."
"Rufus..." I feel some final moment of sympathy for him. I was supposed to kill him. He turned up dead. "Who did this?"
He shrugs lightly and spits out blood. His eyelids shudder for a moment, then he opens them wide and looks at me. "No idea. Woke up here. Your...last payment...check...chair...not me..." His voice crackles once, and he makes some gurgling sound, then nothing. The dagger falls limp.
"Check chair. Not me." I repeat it, then walk over to the chair, which has been pulled this way, and is facing away from me. My "last" pay had been a sack of gil. I expect a midget with a machine gun to be sitting there, the the dead President jumping up and yelling "Surprise!"
What I get is, you could say, a fuck of a lot worse than a midget blowing my brains out.
What I get is the mutilated corpse of my wife.
.
.
.
Author's Note: I will be taking no questions about this chapter. Ask me and I will change the subject on you. Just know that there are no smoke-and-mirrors this far in. And I'm not trying to be cheap and get out of writing for awhile; this story is, in all honesty, my baby, and I wish it could go on until the world burns up in the expansion of the sun. But, yes. Straight-out honesty here.