Chapter 2

Reno was out on the town tonight, though not on a job. He strolled through the lamp-lit streets and the shadowed alleys with a ground-in familiarity. This time he was fighting one of his own battles. Shallow puddles lay here and there, reflecting the dim yellow light while the damp pavement rang softly with padding footsteps. His walk was purposeful; his shoulders hunched slightly forward to throw his face even further into the shadows. He wanted, needed to take action, but before anything else he'd need some information. His blue jacket was wrapped around him, though not for the cold, and a cigarette glowed faintly at his lips.

Reno couldn't remember how many times Elena had tried to break him of the habit. Once upon a time, long ago, he would stand in Elena's office and absently light up just to see the look on her face. He knew how badly her hands had itched to grab the offending cigarette and throw it out, but she was the rookie and Reno was second in command.

Passing across a wide street, he hurried quickly into the darkness offered by the side street opposite. Outside of work had been a different situation altogether, of course. He remembered vividly the time that Elena had swiped all three of his packs during their day off and had casually tossed them into a nearby swimming pool while he'd frantically pledged his soul to her if she'd just stop. He remembered the green of the water, remembered how it'd reflected in Elena's laughing brown eyes, and remembered the grey concrete neighbourhood and how life had been shit but it didn't matter while Rude and Elena were laughing. The memory jarred him, and he stared moodily into the black night all around him.

He refused to admit he needed them. He didn't. He had lived for two years without them, and he would keep on going just the same as before. Any sign of weakness was viewed with cool disgrace; the last thing he needed was to be reminded of how things had once been, of what they were no longer. No, he would not let anything break him now or ever. The scene in his apartment was already half forgotten.

Midgar came alive at night. In the upper class districts, lights came on until it almost seemed as if the rows of shops and houses were lined by fire. People here lived for the nightlife, and Midgar had been called 'the city that never sleeps' more than once before. Clubs, bars, whatever your particular perversion. You only had to look a few feet to find the nearest party, and Midgar's underworld of music, lights and people had become more famous than the damnable place itself. Down here it was slightly different, but you knew that it was the same beneath the surface. It was rougher and you had to be careful where you walked after dark, but life pulsed here too. Many of the people who waited here you wouldn't want to meet, dark alley or otherwise. And still, if you knew where to look you would find those brave enough, or stupid enough, to throw the night away. Reno knew where to look.

What he was looking for could cost him a lot, but if he played his cards right and dropped a few threats, he might even come out of this in one piece. He didn't care if he earned himself a few more blacklists; he had enough enemies to last him a lifetime as it was. This was what he lived for, and, if necessary, would die for. It never occurred to him there might be something else.

A small, dark coloured door on his left drew Reno's eyes. At first glance, particularly in the shadows, you would miss it entirely. Only upon careful inspection would you realize that you were looking at an entrance of some sort, and even then it seemed to fade into the background all the while you looked at it. It was the same color as the brick wall; covered equally with graffiti and the grime that made city life just what it was. Reno located the door instantly. He'd helped to install it years ago.

He stepped towards the door easily, and only glanced around quickly before wrapping sharply on it twice. He paused for moment, perhaps a space of five seconds or so, and then knocked again once. There was silence for another pause, but slowly the sound of locks being undone and a heavy bar being lifted could be heard from the other side. The wall, or at least this portion of it, swung outwards to reveal a bar of light and a pair of deep purple eyes that narrowed slightly. The bouncer, recognizing him, ushered Reno inside quickly before closing the door behind them.

This was one of the nightclubs that Midgar was renowned for, though perhaps even more select than the fabled ones usually reserved for high society. There were many people here, but every one of them was known to the management and you didn't get in here without high credentials. Reno had always been rather proud that he'd helped to found the place, even if he'd lost his stake in it years ago. The large bar and floor were lit by bright overhead lights, and everywhere was filled with smoke, alcohol, laughter and raised voices. Music played at the far end through speakers almost as tall as Reno, and he could feel it pulsing through the floor and up into his bones. He hadn't been here in too long. Almost with relief, he straightened slightly. There was no room for mistake here, and he replaced the hard set to his eyes with a lopsided smile. Reno was far from stupid, and he knew how to play people.

A long counter sprawled out to his right, lined on one side with bar stools and the other with bottle and glasses. A man of medium height with quick eyes was serving. His gaze twitched almost involuntarily to the newcomer as Reno sauntered over to him.

"Hey Derek."

The barkeep raised a thick eyebrow, and his heavily tanned face crinkled into a good-natured sort of worried smile.

"Well shit. Didn't think I'd see your ass in here for at least another couple of weeks after that last incident." Reno's smile turned into a smirk.

"You know me; I never was one to turn down a good drink."

The man laughed, though his hands busied themselves almost nervously with cleaning a glass that happened to be on hand.

"What'll it be tonight, then?"

"Ah, just the usual."

The man set down the glass with an audible clink. He gave Reno an odd look before his eyes darted to look to some obscure point at one of the tables.

"Well, you better keep it to just two or three tonight, Reno. If I were you I'd watch my back." Reno shrugged and tried not to let his grin fade. Derek gave a slight nod before turning his back and reaching to start pouring the drink. Reno took the opportunity to sit down and survey the hazy bar.

Against one wall, several men were playing an obviously not entirely legal form of pool that seemed to consist mostly of aiming at your opponent's head. Reno was unsurprised to see gil on the table, and a lot of shouting going on. Nearer on hand, people sat and lounged around tables, drinking and talking while others moved about from conversation to conversation. Men and women danced to the pounding music, although a large crowd seemed to have formed around the small stage at the back. A woman with angular eyes and coarse features danced along the front of the stage, doing everything except actually stripping.

Reno, however, had other interests tonight. His gaze fell on one particular man. He wasn't large; smaller than Reno by nearly a head. He didn't stand out at all, with short mousy brown hair, large colorless eyes and an inconspicuously seedy black suit. He sat alone at a table, drinking occasionally from his large mug though his eyes seemed largely fixed on the dancing woman. He didn't even notice as three large men walked over, only finding where his attention should have been when he was yanked up roughly by the collar.

The bartender passed Reno his drink across the counter, and he took it with a nod of thanks before returning to watching. The small man was frog marched across the bar to a corner near the back. No one moved to intercept or help him, each looking the other way easily as though it were a nightly occurrence. The man's protests were easily drowned out by the background noise, and he was thrown unceremoniously into the shadows and against the wall. One of the thugs pulled something out of a concealed pocket and Reno didn't need enhanced eyesight to know that it was probably a knife.

With a half sigh of resignation, Reno put down his glass. It seemed as though he wasn't the only one who had an agenda here tonight. The annoying part was that he was going to have to involve himself, and at this early stage in the game, it was a bad omen. Well, no matter; a dead informant was of no use to any one at all. Standing up, Reno caught the bartender's eye to make sure the man knew he would be back for his drink, and to pay the tab. This wasn't a place for misunderstandings.

He moved through the crowd easily, slipping between people as though it was second nature to him. This club was one of the few places where he didn't have to worry about being recognized; most people knew him already and those that didn't wouldn't see him at all. The smoke, the noise, the overhead lights: he knew it all.

Of the three men surrounding the one against the wall, the taller unarmed man was the one towering ominously forward. A dim glint in his eyes showed that he had somewhat more intelligence than the other two, and a whole lot more malice. Just watching the way he shifted his weight and the way he carried himself, Reno didn't doubt that he had more than a pocket knife hidden away. Great. It would mean nothing to him to take these three down and he was probably overdue for letting out some of this frustration anyway, but it would certainly bring security down on their heads. Toughs like these didn't mean anything, but the smaller man was one of the regulars, and the club didn't approve of anyone moving in on their territory.

The man with the spiked smile leaned over the small man further, sneering down at him.

"So, Dale. Where's the gil?" The little man's eyes were wild, and he cast about frantically.

"I told you I 'ont got it! If you come back tomorrow though, I'll…" A hand snaked out, throwing him back against the wall. When he drew forward again, he also noticed his ear was bleeding. Putting his hand, he drew in a hissing breath.

"What the hell was 'at for? I'll get it for you! I told you I would!" The big man's smile only widened ominously.

"Well, it's like this. You're such a piddling little shit that we could track it down ourselves before the night's over, but I really can't let it be getting round that we let things like this happen without giving you some kind of incentive to do better."

For a moment, it looked as though the small, wiry man was about to be an ear shorter when Reno finally judged it was time to intervene. Sliding coolly forward, he shot out an arm between knife and face. His own smile could probably have frozen at least the first three layers of hell.

"S'cuse me, gentlemen, but I rather need this fellow you're about to decapitate." He matched all three of their glares eye for eye. A more than slightly deadly look was being levelled at him, but Reno probably couldn't have been less bothered. He only watched with detached amusement as the knife-wielding heavy with the scraggly beard stepped towards him in a failed attempt at intimidation.

"Why should we let some piece of shit tell us what to do?" He started to put some momentum behind the blade, but the tallest one, the most dangerous one, lifted his hand to stop him. His smile inched a little wider, ominously.

"Heh, check this little sod out. Look at 'im! He's a bloody Turk." Reno let nothing show on his face while all three of them laughed. "Poor little Turk got no big Shinra to hide behind now. If you think you scare us, you're not just dead wrong, you're dead."

Reno couldn't help it; a grin crept up his lips. The biggest man, the obvious leader, frowned with only mildly suppressed derision and anger when he saw it. With a snort, he tilted his head towards Reno and shot the other two a conspiratorial glance.

"Aw, Turk is all alone in the world. Comes in a little too often than is good for 'im if you know what I mean. Always gettin' roaring drunk; what's wrong, mate? Did your girl leave you? Or maybe you just realized you're the bottom of the heap, the scum of the scum?" His smile became even more unpleasant when Reno said nothing.

Almost flippantly, the man drew a long silver dagger from the depths of his coat. It glittered dully as it caught the overhead lighting

"I've always wanted to find out just how hard a Turk goes down. Guess it's just my lucky night."

His wrist flicked outward to drive the point of the razor-tipped knife into Reno's stomach. He was slightly surprised, however, to find his intended target no longer there. Before he even had a chance to turn around, a sharp stabbing pain behind his right knee caused the man to stumble forward, swearing. He managed to keep his balance, though he had to put out his hand to steady himself. Climbing back up, he turned around to see Reno, standing just where he had been, still smiling faintly. The man's glare darkened.

The other two men began to lurch towards Reno, but their leader stuck out a hand quickly.

"Stop! Keep out of this. I'm going to put the damn Turk in his place, and I don't need any help from you." His eyes, however, trailed towards the little man who was edging away from the wall. "Oh, and make sure he doesn't slip out on us, will you?"

Large hands clapped onto the small man's shoulders, and he only got a shrill yelp before he was shoved roughly back. The lead man, finished composing himself, turned to Reno with a sharp grin. Reno returned it effortlessly.

"You know, if you're going to try to kill someone, you might want to consider not telling them before hand? Gloating is really very amateurish," Reno suggested coolly.

"The day I take advice from a Turk is the day I die."

He lunged forwards, the knife flashing in his hand. His arm flew forward, driving deadly steel in an upward arc that would cut through cloth, skin, and could jar into bone. It met nothing, however, instead only whistling through empty space.

The man began to check his assault, to turn and redirect the attack, but his forward momentum carried him a half-step too far. Before he had a chance to close the opening he had created, with honed precision a fist connected with his stomach and he went over. The man had no chance to stop the fall before Reno's foot lashed out sharply, smashing mercilessly into ribs. The man groaned, but did not get up.

The other two men glared worriedly at Reno, slowly backing away from the small man still standing quivering next to the wall. Reno's smile was barbed, and his eyes never left the faces of the two men. He watched as their eyes swung down towards their boss on the floor, and didn't move. He made no motion at all until with a sudden, almost invisible shift he had the bottle from the table five feet away and was sending it down with a crash across the back of the head of the man who was rising, sure he could get the Turk from the back. He went down again, and this time did not move. Blood trickled to the well-polished floor.

With that, the two cronies broke and fled, leaving Reno feeling a little better but still unsatisfied. Ignoring the lifeless man, he stepped carefully around the inconvenient body and towards the little man who was giving him a grateful and perpetually nervous smile.

"Thanks, Reno. I owe ya' one-"

Reno's face had no smile when he approached, and the man called Dale's smile faltered and failed altogether. Anyone's would faced with the deadly, slitted eyes thatgave nothing away. The man coughed and turned to make a hasty exit.

"I'll just be going now, then…"

Before he could take more than a step, Reno's hand shot out, grasping the back of the man's jacket and flinging him effortlessly forward against the wall once more. Twisting both arms behind his back, Reno pushed until the man could barely breathe. He choked and struggled a little, but was helpless to move.

"Fuck, Reno! What was 'at for?"

"I need some information, Dale, and you're going to give it to me." The man spluttered for a moment.

"What's in it for me?"

"Normally I'd say the usual bribe, but I'm NOT in a good mood right now. Consider your continued existence a small token of my favour." The man blinked.

His cheek pushed up against the wall, his eyes twisted around to look behind Reno. Dale coughed again, and chuckled weakly.

"I think ya' might find that a bit hard, all things considered."

Reno's eyes narrowed, but before he could react, vice-like hands were grabbing him and pulling him away from Dale who collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath. Reno suddenly found himself being held very firmly between five men of varying heights and builds who looked severely unimpressed. They wore the bright red blazers of those employed specially by the club's owner to patrol the place and keep any 'disputes' with paying customers from escalating. They cared nothing about what happened to a client once he was out the door, but if he could pay the tab and he was in, then he would stay safe until he left. Besides, the owner, Jefrin, hated to see things broken.

Now, they fixed Reno with stares that said quite clearly how things would go for anyone who tried to pick a fight right about now. Reno just let himself be restrained, deciding it wasn't worth it. He watched stonily as Dale picked himself up, sniggering to see Reno in his current position. His grin did not last, though, because two of the men in red stepped forward to pick Dale up by each taking an arm.

"He-hey! What are you doing! Put! Me! Down!"

He was, easily disregarded however, and Reno couldn't help but let a tiny smirk cross his face as the five men led, and in one case carried, the two of them along the back wall. The other patrons, for whom this was not an unusual occurrence, casually ignored them. It was a club policy to turn the other cheek. Doing otherwise all too often resulted in serious bodily harm for the interloper. So for now, Reno and the weasel-faced man were led along the long grey wall obscured by smoke and lit only by lights coming from the stage. Their destination was a narrow, inconspicuous door that Reno recognized all too easily. He'd spent many days in there, long ago, laughing it up with the other high rollers who'd been big back in the old days. He remembered it well.

One of the five – the tallest one – moved ahead to open the door while two remained to guard Reno. They were ushered quickly in, and the door was shut quickly and firmly behind them.

The room they entered was large, and dimly lit. It had a red carpet on the floor, though it was stained and littered with cigarette butts and sucked at your shoes. Dark leather couches lined two walls, though they were all but one unoccupied at the moment. Two men in dark glasses that Reno recognized as 'patrons' smirked to see the seven come in.

Against the other wall was a large, heavy desk that was slickly varnished. Behind it sat a slim, middle-aged man with a clean-shaven face and slightly greying hair. He also smiled to see them, though his was purely business-like. He conscientiously shuffled some papers on his desk before turning his attention specifically to them. His eyes, dark brown, sought out Reno's.

"Ah, Reno. What a pleasant surprise. You haven't visited me in some time." Reno returned his smile, letting fake warmth enter his voice.

"It has been a while, hasn't it? I'm sure there hasn't been a day when I didn't long to be back in your company." Jefrin winced a little, though it was obvious he did it purely for Reno's own benefit.

"I see your sarcasm remains as cutting as ever. Really, though. You know perfectly well it was all some big misunderstanding."

"Ten men wearing your colors trying to kill me with a letter bearing your signature giving them permission to do it?"

"Precisely."

"Ah," Reno took the opportunity to look around as the five men finally backed off. "How could I have ever been so blind?" He did not miss the wary, brittle cast that Jefrin's smile assumed for a moment before it reverted back to its previous plastic set.

"I'm glad you've finally seen the light. Anyway, that's old history my friend. What I'm more worried about now is that you've been trying to kill my customers again."

Reno's perfectly edged smile could have cut diamonds.

"So you heard about that, huh? Should have known." He laughed harshly. "Well, don't worry too much. I wasn't going to kill him. I'm sure someone else will take care of that for me eventually. I just wanted some information."

Jefrin nodded, looking calculatingly in Dale's direction. Dale was currently slumped against one wall, trying to make himself as small as possible, much to the amusement of the two men on the couch. Jefrin just looked mildly intrigued.

"Was it so important that you had to disregard all the normal niceties? Of course, I know that times are tough for you, Reno, but tut tut." His grin broadened when he saw Reno's look.

"Well then, I know that you are not one to get worked up about nothing. So you must tell me what it is you are looking for, and we shall see if we can persuade our little friend here to tell us what he knows."

Dale shrank even more perceptibly, and Reno stared at him for a moment, calculating the possible gains and losses. It seemed harmless enough, but men like Jefrin never did anything unless there was something in it for them. Well, it wasn't like there was a lot of choice, at this point.

"A man was shot dead near my apartment tonight, and I need to find out who did it." His level voice and blank face carefully betrayed nothing.

"Hell, Reno! Any of the local bastards could have done that!" He laughed, and Reno's chill smile returned for a fleeting instant before disappearing as fast as it had come.

"He still had his wallet."

Jefrin nodded thoughtfully. "When you put it that way… Yes, I see your point." He swung his gaze back to Dale who'd been forcibly pushed forward by one of the men in red. He was shaking pathetically, and he shook his head frantically when he felt all the stares come to rest on him.

"I don't know shit."

Reno exchanged glances with Jefrin, who nodded to one of the guys behind Dale who immediately picked him up with ease and knocked him against the wall once, and then again for good measure.

"Ok! Hell!" Dale spat, flailing to get loose. "There was a guy in here earlier…"

"This guy?" Reno's contempt went undisguised.

"He wasn't one of the normals! I'm tellin' ya!" Dale's voice was desperate, and his eyes swung from Reno to Jefrin to the man who was holding him. Only Jefrin was smiling, his chin resting on one of his hands. He watched, apparently fascinated, taking in the scene with vast amusement. Reno just looked non-plussed.

"So, talk."

"E' was really tall, with long black hair. E' didn't drink anything or leave his name. E' was askin' questions 'bout the Turks, though." Reno looked at him in surprise. "I swear it's the truth! He wore black and had a long red cape."

Reno nodded to the man holding Dale who gave him one last violent shake before putting him down carefully onto the carpet. He looked vaguely as though he were going to be sick, and he appeared to be working out his chances of getting to the door before someone really did kill him.

"You absolutely sure he didn't leave a name or anything?" cut in Reno, obviously annoyed with the man's defensive stupidity.

"Yeah! Maybe… I think he mentioned it after all… Yeah I think he did. Valentine! It was Valentine!"

Jefrin turned to look at Reno, still smiling brightly, while Dale quivered. All eyes were once again on Reno, who just stared.