Fish Hook

Chapter 3

"He's not moving, Reeve."

"I know, Se. I'm watching, too. Hold on. I'll be there myself in a moment." Reeve could feel his knee throbbing. Missing the rain in Junon didn't mean he wouldn't feel the effects of the weather, and he knew his mood wasn't helping any. He'd smoked almost half a pack in the past hour. Gods, if something happened to Reno, how would he break the news to Trigger?

He climbed the railing to where Tseng waited. Part of him wanted to pull out, just not do the job and find another time now that Reno had earned Sephiroth's trust. If only he had that option. ShinRa wanted Sephiroth dead, and it didn't matter to them if a little girl lost her daddy in the process.

"Wait, they got up," Tseng spoke, squinting along the rifle sights as Reeve joined him. "What are they saying? I don't like the look on the target's face."

Reeve crouched down, biting back a grunt of pain. "Sephiroth likes Reno."

Tseng's eyes widened, though they never wavered from the scope. "What? He never liked anyone but Zax, and he killed Zax, too."

"I know, but still…the way he's been talking, it sounds like he's thinking about offering a job to Reno. As long as it stays that way, it buys us some time. Just, gods, Se, don't miss. Reno's as good as dead if you do."

"Stop fucking reminding me, what do you think's been going through my head for the past hour?" Tseng remained motionless despite his strained words. "Wait—I think this may be it."

Both men held their breaths, one watching and the other listening. Tseng gently squeezed the trigger. It was all over from there.

Or it should have been. Reeve and Tseng looked at each other in utter shock and absolute horror. They were Turks, they'd seen everything. Surely this couldn't have happened.

"Reno," they said together, and sprang to their feet. They had to get inside the club, and fast.

---

What to talk about, what to say? Reno wracked his mind for a way to fill in the last year or so that wouldn't give away his connection to the Turks. Sephiroth watched him, politely interested and as unassuming as a resting lion. Reno didn't want to raise suspicion—he wasn't up to facing down an angry, hungry lion today.

He was saved from it at all. "Sir," a heavily accented Wutaian voice said from behind him, "We have business to discuss, yet you sit and speak with this trash. I do not have time—"

Sephiroth's gaze turned steely. "Mister Gao, I do not recall inviting you to speak with us. The Red Wolf and I have business of our own."

Gao moved into Reno's line of sight. He was an immaculately-dressed man, completely out of place in his almost old-fashioned pinstriped suit and tie. The cane he always carried tapped the floor between black shoes that had been shined to near mirror perfection. Reno had seen the true nature of that cane before; it hid a thin-bladed sword that gave Gao his common nickname. The Asp—small, seemingly harmless, yet deadly.

"Heya, Snake," Reno gave a jaunty wave. He grinned. Gao hated being called Snake. He liked the image of the asp. It must have seemed more dignified or something. Reno pushed a little further. "Cold-blooded as always, I see."

Gao shot him a disgusted glare, lip curled, but kept his temper in check. Whatever business he thought he had with Sephiroth, it must be more important to him than a former rival. Instead of replying to Reno, he addressed Sephiroth once more. "Sir—"

"Yes, yes, Gao, of course." The bored tone was back. "Just let me finish my conversation here, and we'll get to you in a moment." He rose and went to the railing to look down at the crowd of dancers and motioned for both Reno and Gao to follow him.

"You see this? This is where the new power is. For decades, our kind have taken money from the downtrodden, the slumdwellers. Is it any wonder that ShinRa looks down on us as well? Is it surprising to find swine like that idiot Fensch there—" he nodded toward the party on the right side of the balcony with a friendly smile, "—have risen to the positions you both had to acquire by wit and strength?" Fensch caught the nod and smiled widely without subtlety.

Sephiroth turned away, his expression changing to one of disgust. "We need new prey. The lower classes are tapped out, so where does that leave us?"

"With the upper classes," Reno replied, earning a real smile.

"Exactly. Hence, the club. I didn't even have to work at it. All I did was turn away a few curious people on the first night, and now they pay to be told to wait outside. They beg for invitations, as though being on one side or another of the door means the difference between one quality of life or another." Sephiroth shook his head. "It's time to start aiming higher. I have the 'elite' of Junon eating out of my hand and begging for the honor of doing so. Imagine what we can do in the rest of the world."

Gao frowned in thought. "This is true, but not all of us can open nightclubs. I need something more for my territory."

"Of course. We can work out the details later, though. Come, let's—"

Suddenly, Sephiroth was not where he'd been an instant before. There was a crisp, popping sound, like something piercing heavy glass, and one of the Pirate guards fell in a spray of blood.

Reno and Gao ducked at once. Reno slipped and fell onto his back to see the furious general inspecting a tiny bullet hole in the window. The silver head snapped in Reno's direction, eyes measuring the likelihood of Gao or Reno being the culprit. Reno could see his mind working, could even see the moment he decided it didn't matter who was at fault.

Shit, shit, shit.

The DJ stopped again for the second time that night. In the silence, Sephiroth's voice rang out through the club, deep and clear. "Kill them!"

The Pirates, aching to the man to shoot something, anything, opened up on the club. Wires snapped, people screamed and trampled each other to get away. Glass shattered over and over from the waves of bullets, showering and shattering again on the dance floor like powder.

Outraged, Gao drew his sword from the cane, his bodyguards moving forward like a cloak to surround him. "You planned to do this all along!" he growled at Sephiroth.

"Yes," Sephiroth said, angry but grinning all the same, "I did."

Reno stayed where he was, forgotten for the moment. He watched as Sephiroth drew the real Masamune, the one for which he'd named his club, the sword that had been until now just another part of the decoration. A metallic whisper was all the sound it made before it bit into the two bodyguards in front of Gao. They fell, in four pieces, to the floor.

Gao stood his ground, raising his own meager blade in defense, and Sephiroth lunged.

Well, one fewer gang lord to worry about now, Reno thought as Gao's arm landed a foot—ha ha—away from him, still clutching the cane. He began to inch backward while Sephiroth made short work of the remaining bodyguards. A high-pitched screaming rose over the cries of the crowd, and Reno could see the other gang leader, Fensch, meeting a messy end of his own.

Once the last of Gao's men had been dispatched, Sephiroth refocused on Reno, crawling away. There wasn't any way to hide; Reno would have to fight. He rose slowly, warily, as Sephiroth hefted the Masamune and watched him.

"Interesting," Sephiroth said, "You are far more clever than even I gave you credit to be, but as you said, it won't keep you alive."

"Yeah, they make guns fer that." Reno jumped to the right, over the rail, drawing both guns. For once, he was thankful for the extra firepower Reeve had provided. He landed on a hanging speaker that immediately snapped under his weight, the cable raining sparks like fireworks as he crashed down, guns blazing. His arms snapped to the sides to take out men on the stairs.

Just before the speaker shattered on the floor, Reno jumped to the ground. He rolled twice before gaining his feet to knock down another Pirate. It was time for his exit, Reno decided.

Sephiroth gripped the rail, unwilling to let his opponent escape. Piper and some of the other men gathered beside him, firing their guns into the crowd to get a line on Reno's retreating back.

Music still played; somehow, the sound system had gotten turned back on in the confusion and no one cared to try to turn it off. The shrieks and screams of people overlaid the thumping beat. "Stop," Sephiroth growled, thrusting out a hand. "He's mine." He snarled and leapt off the balcony one-handed to land gracefully on the floor. The force of impact drove back the crowd of erstwhile dancers. Sephiroth didn't even look at them. His focus was on the bright red hair that was even now forcing a way through the throng.

"Out of my WAY!" Sephiroth bellowed, stalking forward and slashing Masamune to the side. The crowd pushed back further, unlucky ones getting caught by the blade. They fell away, cowering, and a path opened up for him to reach his target. On both sides, coming from the other direction, he saw his Pirates filtering through the people who made for the door. They wanted Reno just as much as Sephiroth did. If they weren't careful, their quarry would escape. "Bar the door!"

Another dozen people made it out, and then the Pirates managed to slam the doors shut. They fired into the crowd to keep them from trampling each other and breaking them down. Reno saw this and realized he would have to fight, here, now.

He turned to face Sephiroth, thinking of his daughter. At least no one would be able to say he went down without a fight, he thought as he drew his mag rod, the last weapon he had. It hummed to life in his hand, comfortable and familiar. He felt his stance change to the insolent, cocky one he had adopted since becoming a Turk.

Something in that very stance caused a spark of recognition in Sephiroth's angry glare. The hellish eyes seemed to flare. "Now I see—I know what you are, ShinRa whore." He spat the word, then sneered. "Not quite as smart as I though you were, then." The blade whipped from side to side.

"I told you there was more to survival than intelligence," Reno said lazily, tapping the mag rod on his shoulder as if he had no cares in the world. "There's also a lot of luck involved."

"Let's see how much luck you have, then." Sephiroth stopped moving, then twisted the blade and swept upward. Reno leaned back and ducked under the path of the sword to jab the rod against Sephiroth's ribs. There was a blast of electricity and a sharp cry from Sephiroth. The general leapt back, only to immediately rush forward again. Masamune was a blur of short slices that caught Reno's coat and shirt, tearing fabrics and shaving the tips off his hair.

Reno had to keep moving. Sephiroth wasn't playing with him, he wanted Reno dead. Only the Mako treatments that all Turks had to suffer through kept him alive and fast enough to avoid the blade. Should he parry with the rod and risk losing it, or should he keep running? There wasn't anywhere else for him to go. He dodged and spun, jerked his shoulders back and nearly bent double to get away from the Masamune.

Then Reno had an idea. He hit the floor, flat on his back. Instead of scrambling backwards to gain distance, he flipped forward, putting him nose to nose with Sephiroth. Reno could smell the expensive cigarette laced with high end boozeon the other man's breath. Reno reached out, bracing Sephiroth's sword arm with his hand at the wrist and striking quickly with the mag rod into his side again.

Sephiroth was strong, far stronger then Reno had first gathered. With a bestial snarl of pain, Sephiroth shoved Reno to the side. His hand clutched at his chest for a second while he straightened slowly. Reno could actually hear a constant, feral growl from deep in Sephiroth's throat.

The crowd was totally silent, loath to go near either of them but with no place to run. Now they were not watching a gang war, they were watching ShinRa at work. The general that had been renowned as the greatest warrior of any age on one side, facing off against a member of a legendary group that many didn't even believe existed.

Stiff legged, Reno and Sephiroth made circles around each other. Reno shrugged off his coat, holding it in one hand. Thinking to take advantage of Reno's distraction, Sephiroth lunged again, getting Reno's coat full in his face. Before he had cut the item in two, Reno was halfway to the bar. Nearly crouching again, the enraged swordsman tore after him. Reno placed his hands on the bar and hauled himself over it just as Sephiroth reached him. The Masamune bit deep into the bar, just missing Reno but making a deep gouge in the marble.

Reno wasted no time; he smashed a full bottle of Everclear on the bar, then reached into his pocket for his lighter. Before he had time to light up the bar, however, Sephiroth gave up trying to free his sword and instead placed one palm on the surface and swung his body over to Reno's side. Reno scrambled back over to the outside. If he was caught in such a small area with Sephiroth, there wouldn't be enough left of him to bury. Back and forth the two went, Sephiroth getting more and more agitated. "When I get a hold of you," he growled, "I promise to teach you new meanings of pain, whore!"

Reno knew that the best way to win a fight was to get the other man so angry he couldn't think straight. He aimed low. "You know? You sound JUST like youre father when you say that."

It must have been a little too low. Without so much as a grunt of effort, Sephiroth ripped the sword from bar, leaving splinters of marble and wood to spill on the floor. His free hand flew out to grip the mesh of Reno's shirt.

Reno was pitched to the floor, hard enough to shove the wind from his lungs. He had swiped a gun from behind the bar, but he didn't have time to gain his feet. Gasping for air, he looked up at a sharp pain in his chest.

Sephiroth loomed above him, barely pushing the point of the Masamune into the ribs over Reno's heart. Struggling to breathe, Reno forced his arm up with the gun, pulling back the hammer.

Stalemate.

"You're dead, corporate slut Red Wolf," Sephiroth growled. "What did you think? That I spent all that time, letting clones go, working to get that assignment in Nibelheim, just to bleed into the background? Don't be a fool."

"You're the fool, and a pathetic one at that." Reno was gratified to see the look of rage intensify on Sephiroth's face. "So help me, I'll take you with me. But you have no idea how many people would have given up limbs to have the chance you had? The one you tossed away? Bullshit, acting like the world owes you something."

"Ahh, here comes the intellectual conversation I've missed." Sephiroth rocked forward, barely resisting the urge to impale Reno into the cement. "And what if that gun's empty? What if I attach you to the floor and then go back to Midgar?"

Reno felt cold; heknew where the other man was going with that line of thought. "You're a soulless bastard. Dead or alive, I won't let you touch my family."

"Well then, shall we see?" Sephiroth's tone was light, almost jovial. "Children are such fragile things. You can kill them without a second thought, by accident really. Or did you not know I'd heard about her?"

"This has nothing to do with her." Desperation made Reno's voice gravelly, hollow, hopeless in his throat. The gun had to have bullets in it, it just had to. He pulled the trigger.

Empty.

A shot rang out anyway, and blood dripped onto his face.

Sephiroth staggered backward, hand covering one ruined eye, and fell to his knees. As one, he and Reno looked upward as though at a deity of some kind. No one but they saw Reeve pulling back into the shadows atop the balcony.

"You," Sephiroth rasped, almost smiling, then collapsed.

All was still. Reno pushed himself to his feet, raining glass and plaster that he dusted off the leather pants. The remaining Pirates made themselves very small, but he ignored them. In two steps, he reached the fallen general and squatted down beside the body. As he peeled the glove away from Sephiroth's left hand, onlookers gasped. A number two had been tattooed in black against the man's pale skin.

"A knockoff," Tseng snorted from behind Reno. "I knew the original had to be dead."

Reno turned and stood. Reeve and Tseng were waiting, both looking as though nothing had ruffled either of their dark suits. There was no sign of either the sniper rifle or the pistol that Reeve had fired in that critical moment. They had just appeared here, Turks speaking genially to a former ganglord.

"Yeah," Reno said carelessly, "I wondered why he went down so easy."

Tseng rolled his eyes, but Reeve nodded and stepped forward. "We have some questions for you, Reno 'Red Wolf' Cappellirossi. If you would come with us?"

A murmur went through the crowd. A fake Sephiroth dead, killed by a rival gang lord, and now the Turks had appeared? The Pirates seemed to have teleported away. None of them were interested in taking up the mantle dropped by their former leader, especially not when ShinRa's most famous underground assassins were around.

Reno pretended to think. "I suppose resisting would be a bad idea?"

"Yes," Reeve said evenly, "It would be a very, very bad idea, Mr. Cappellirossi."

Reno shrugged. "Might as well get it over with." He noticed his leather coat lying on the floor nearby. It was badly mangled, dusty with footprints and more plaster, but he scooped it up anyway and slung it over his arm. "Lead on."

Someone else could clean up the mess for once.

---

Dawn was still hours away as the black car sped back across the bridge, though the moon hung lower in the sky than it had on their way in.

The air in the car was tense. Tseng, driving as usual, felt ashamed that his part of the mission had failed, and it was his nature to take such failure as a personal shortcoming. Beside him, less angry than he expected, Reeve sat and looked out the window at the shimmering dark water, the steel cables and the retreating city.

"Don't worry about it, Se," Reeve said softly without looking at him. "He was a clone, yes, but even a clone of that bastard would have some of the original's power. You would have succeeded if he hadn't somehow sensed the bullet. The mission was completed, the target neutralized. We can't expect our jobs always to go according to plan." The ghost of a smile crossed Reeve's lips. "That's precisely why they send us for things like this."

"Yes, sir," was all Tseng replied, but the tension eased. Both men looked into the rearview mirror at their companion, now sprawled out in the back seat and staring at the ceiling. "Reno?"

"Present," he said, passing his arm over his eyes and sitting up. "What?"

Tseng looked back at the road. "You did a good job there."

Praise from Tseng was rare, and Reno let it sink in slowly. "Thanks." He leaned his head against the cool glass window and counted the pylons as they passed. "Se?"

"Yes?"

He couldn't help the grin. "Next time, it's your turn to be the bait."

Reeve tossed the Zippo back to him. "Next time, huh?"

The three of them were silent once more.

-fin-