-
Furious Angels
-
Chapter 2
-
Burning Reno.
No. Erasing Reno.
A starkly lit computer room, almost devoid of shadow, empty save for three suits. Off, save for one computer. Silent, save for the soft sound of typing. And motionless, save for the pale green streams of flowing data reflected in expressionless shades.
Name, history, identification.
Typing.
Bleep.
And he was gone.
A man no more. An entity no more. A target?
Merely.
ShinRa had no need for memories, after all. What was completely gone couldn't be proven. Not by paperwork—all burned. Not by eyewitnesses—they were biased, or insane. Not even by Reno himself—all those scars could have come from anywhere.
No one trusted a Turk, anyway.
Rude leaned back in his chair, glancing up at Tseng. "So."
Tseng stood, looking down at Rude. "So."
A female voice burst in from the side, accompanied by waving arms. "So?"
A slight, tired sigh from Tseng. "Search parties go out tonight. It shouldn't be too hard to find him."
"But… Reno… he knows like, everything about Midgar…"
"He hasn't had the time to dye his hair or change his physical appearance much if he'd been running and hiding, which we suspect he has. We have every reason to believe that this was a spontaneous decision on his part."
"You mean… he just walked out? Why?"
"Reasons are currently unclear to us. His psychological profile seemed fine until now."
"But… we're Turks! Reno… Reno was a Turk! Turks don't just snap and drop everything and leave—"
"Sometimes they do, Elena. There simply are no records of them." A clear warning.
Ignored. "That idiot! That idiot! He just committed suicide! Doesn't he realize that he doesn't have a chance—"
"Yes."
Two heads, frozen, then swerving toward Rude.
Tseng, suddenly suspicious, but calmly in control. "Did he tell you something?"
A shake of his head.
"But—but—" Elena, stammering. "Hey! You were the last person to see him, right? He had to have said something. We all know Reno. He wouldn't just leave like that!"
Tseng, reluctant, but nodding his agreement.
"Come on!" Elena again. "You talked to him, right? Sort of? What exactly did he say?"
Come and get me, lover.
Rude shook his head. "Nothing."
"He can't have said nothing. He talks as much as—" Elena blinked, then smiled a little, sheepishly, even through the tension. "Me."
"He means Reno didn't say anything important, Elena."
"I know that, Tseng, I'm not an idiot!" A huff. "But maybe there was something important that you missed, or something. A hint. A clue. Some reason."
You… knew, didn't you? That I'd break. That I couldn't take it. The injuries. The failure. The hate. The… everything.
"Wasn't there anything?"
A long pause.
Finally: "He asked me to kill him."
Elena fell silent, eyes opening wide.
Tseng just nodded again, apparently not surprised. "And you didn't ask why."
"No."
A glance, unreadable, shot toward Rude. "You assumed he had gone slightly insane; we all do, at times. Am I right?"
A nod.
Understanding.
None from Elena. "But… he was Reno! Reno! You knew him! Hell, even I knew him! How the hell could you believe—"
Wince.
An icy Tseng. "Shut up, Elena."
Blue eyes opening wider, staring at Tseng, then Rude. Confusion. Doubt. Worry. But a mouth falling shut.
"Once we find him, we're going to kill him. He knows too much, and we can't have him running around and possibly spilling ShinRa's secrets, or acting as an example of the Turks' failure to… silence traitors."
Hesitation.
"It's what happens to every deserter. Reno knew this, of course. He should be…" An almost amused half-smile. "Prepared."
More hesitation.
"If we don't do it, ShinRa will. Us or them. If nothing, he'll die by the Turks' guns."
Silence.
Then a nod.
Then another one.
"If… if it's really that… inevitable…." Elena's voice, higher than usual. "We… owe him that much, don't we?"
No response.
Fear in her eyes.
Rude decided that she would never be a traitor.
Silence, looking at each other again.
"Then," Tseng waved a hand. "If the erasure is finished… Dismissed."
And it was over.
"I said, dismissed."
The eulogy of a Turk.
Shuffling of feet, bodies getting up. Listless, subdued. Heading for the door.
"I'm… going to the shooting range." Elena, turning around. As always. Soft words to Rude. "Don't… get too drunk, okay?"
Hypocritical words from a hypocrite. "You care too much."
Guilt, shame. "I know. But I'm trying…" Hope. "I'm gonna be like you some day. You know. All silent. Cold! Then maybe Tseng'll start treating me like a real Turk."
Silence. Then: "Don't—"
"Rude." Interrupted by Tseng, gesturing him back into the room. "We need to talk for a moment, please. Elena, you are still free to go."
A nod from Elena. A touch on his shoulder. "Later, then." Then departure.
Turning back, walking across the room toward Tseng. Able to see, but for some reason unable to feel his feet hitting the floor.
Looking up. A raised eyebrow. "Tseng."
A pause, a contemplative look.
"Do you know," Tseng asked, one hand rising to his chin, "how many Turks I've had to kill during my stay here?"
A shake of his head. "No."
"Four," Tseng said, counting off on his fingers. "Darv, Kent, Zeir, Awren."
A questioning glance.
"I see." A frown. "Guess how many of those were traitors."
Frozen silence.
An answer anyway. "Two."
Understanding.
"And Reno will be the fifth."
No response.
"Now. What I wanted to discuss with you…" Tseng's hand, reaching out, pressing against the gun hidden beneath Rude's jacket. No pity in his words, but an odd sympathy in his touch. "Make sure that the total number doesn't stay even. For all our sakes. No need for a bigger mess than necessary."
A blank expression. Brushing Tseng's hand away. Casual, forced through a tightening throat. "Sure."
A nod, and another half-smile.
Hesitation, then a nod back.
"Then. Dismissed."
Departure.
Dismissed.