Chapter 8: Saturday Night's alright for Fighting
"And here's the guy we're supposed to be meeting." The mechanical cat said as it rushed forwards and leapt into Reeve's arms.
"Reeve?" Vincent questioned.
"Yeah…we're here at' meet you?" Cid scratched his forehead as he spoke.
"Sort of…then again, actually you're here to meet him." Reeve said as he stepped back around the corner and out of sight, with Cait Sith still in hand.
Tseng stepped forward to take his place. "Consider yourself arrested," he said without any hint of emotion. "Take no actions. Come peacefully or you'll regret it." "Shit, we've been setup," Cid grumbled. Tseng stood there waiting. It had always been his style to let the enemy make the first move. Usually if he didn't the fight was over too fast.
"You ready to rock, Suit?" Cid asked. Without waiting for a reply, he swung his spear like a baseball bat. Tseng went into a ducked roll, avoiding the clumsy attack. Before Cid could react, Tseng kicked Cid's legs out from underneath him, dropping him into the muck. From there Tseng quickly flipped to his feet and dropped his elbow hard onto the back of the pilots head smashing it against the concrete. Tseng didn't waist a moment looking to see if Cid was conscious or not. There were still two terrorists left standing.
The Turk was actually surprised to find that he had not been fired upon yet. He knew the area was a prime location for ricochets but he didn't expect these morons to think the same. He chastised himself for assuming too much about his opponents already. Assuming would only get him killed somewhere along the lines. He'd already seen the same fate happen to quite a few now-deceased Turks. The burly black man, whose name he couldn't remember, charging at him with all the grace of a drunken bull, interrupted his thoughts. The man swung his prosthetic at Tseng's head. He quickly raised his own arm to block. Pain shot through Tseng's forearms as the attack connected, still it was a welcome alternative to what the force of the blow would have done to would have done to his head. The Turk reached into his coat and pulled a small adhesive explosive from an inner pocket. Quickly, he attacked it to the man's clothing and quickly tossed him away moments before it blew and rendered the man unconscious. Barret had never even seen the attack coming.
Tseng actually smiled. These people were hardly even a work out. The pleasure was short lived, however. He gritted his teeth as he felt the familiar burning of hot bullets piercing his body. It was an all too familiar sensation for his line of work but that didn't mean he was used to it. He pushed his hands against the wound to stop the blood flow as he dove for cover in the passageway he entered from.
Only a maniac or someone with unmatchable skill would ever dare to have shot in such a cramped environment. Vincent Valentine was both. Tseng drew the energy from a cure materia that he held with him. It never ceased to amaze him watching his wounds close and heal under their own power. Once he felt in fighting condition, again he peaked slightly around the corner. Vincent had drug his friends out of the line of fire much more quickly than Tseng had expected. Worse, Vincent was nowhere to be seen. Tseng stood quietly waiting for the slightest movement or sound to give away the man's position. It seemed like an eternity passed as Vincent and Tseng both waited for the other to make the move. Finally Tseng spoke. "Give it up." There was no response. "Surrender and you'll only be taken into custody."
"Refuse and you'll kill me, correct?" Vincent called back.
"Yes." Tseng kept the answers short. He could already tell he was dealing with a pro. "Better have tried," came Vincent's bitter response.
Tseng smiled at the man's well deserved hubris. "Well then, it seems we've hit a stalemate doesn't it?"
Although they had little time to observe the others behavior, and even less words were exchanged, tseng and Vincent had found there common ground. Inside, they were warriors. It was all they were, all they had. There was an honor there that most people could never understand.
"Let's end this," Vincent called out.
"Agreed."
Vincent and Tseng emerged from their respective cover. Tseng drew a second gun from his coat. Vincent did the same. There was a gun in each hand as the two men stepped into the open and began firing.
Coming next chapter: The Long and Winding Road
