A very very short ficlet on Reno's first mission. Definitely one-shot.
Emotionless
The new leather grip was foreign to his fingers, and the grooves had not blended into the contours of his slender digitals. His blazer was still new and crisp, his slacks still maintaining its crease lines. His shirt was white, collar still stiffly starched. His tie was barely creased, his shoes still shiny. The pistol in the holster hung heavily and limp under his arm. His hair was… well, still red. But his face was still boyish, still in its adolescence, yet his eyes gained certain sharpness that only certain experiences could give. To kill, to love women and to drink endless nights in booze, Reno found all of them blood-thrilling and exhilarating.
Tseng kept an eye on the young boy, not by choice but because Veld told him to. Usually the Turks came from within the Shinra ranks – Rude Richardson was from SOLDIER, Tseng was fresh from military academy when he first joined. But Renaldo Miller was a quite different specimen. Literally plucked from the vile boulevards of the Midgar slums, Reno was nothing but a hoodlum, a part of a gang that terrorized the sectors. That is, until he would be chiseled and contoured. Then he'd be a killing machine. Efficient, ruthless and deadly.
If he did not break first.
Tseng noted with interest that the boy had picked Electromag Rod as his weapon. Usually the Turks picked far-range weapons, mainly pistols. They were relatively harmless to the wielder, yet deadly nonetheless. This boy, whether in his cockiness or because he liked it, had picked a weapon that was close combat. Tseng mentally noted that he might do well with Rude. After all, they were both close-combatants.
"Rookie, come here," he called. Reno's eyes looked at him, then his entire body – not very nourished and all too slender – followed. Reno said nothing, and Tseng understood why. This redhead was the kind that did not want to be obedient, but as the rookie, he was required to. Thus the silence.
"When I give you the signal, run left. Go all the way down the street."
Silence.
"When you reach the corner, wait for my directions. Don't run whatever happens."
More silence. Damn it, this kid was stubborn.
"Right. Wait for my signal."
Rude's voice blared into Tseng's headset. "Target approaching, sir," said the deep voice of the tall man.
"Rookie coming along. Be ready to assist." Tseng turned to the redhead, who was kicking the stones, his manner showing that he was utterly bored.
"Run, Reno."
And so Reno started to run. Tseng had to admit, he was a fast runner. He could see, even without the mako-given nightvision, that Reno had turned the EMR on and the stick flared blue in the slum's darkness. He sprinted in a casual gait, like a predatory panther hunting down its prey.
"Target right in front of Reno," Rude's voice echoed hollow in Tseng's ears. Tseng said nothing. If Reno was dim-witted enough not to realize that the enemy was in front of him, he wouldn't last a week on his own anyways. And Tseng – or the Turks, for that matter – had no need with those who were incapable of taking care of themselves.
He winced as the light blue flared into the darkness. To normal vision it would have been dark, but mako-enhanced eyes collected light and magnified it in order to create enough light to enable one to see in the dark. Tseng ran couple of yards to where the blue flared incessantly, but only arrived just in time to witness the blue die down. Reno had beaten the man's head into a squishy, bloody pulp, enough to make anyone queasy.
Reno kicked the head disgustedly and walked away, a slight sneer on his young face. Tseng decided that it was enough for the night. Really, there was no need to beat the man to death. But Reno did it anyways. Tseng was slightly disturbed by the fact that Reno was not disturbed.
What will this kid become…?
An odd feeling slammed against his stomach. Reno will become an efficient killer; Tseng could see it.
"Get into the car," he shouted to the redhead.
"Welcome to the Turks, Reno."