And what sort of plan might Reno be scheming? Quite simply, he was going to utterly waste every second of his free day. Somewhere around eleven in the morning, Reno awoke to a newspaper swatting down on his arm. Startled by the hit, his eyes jerked open and he sprung to life in a sleepy daze. He rubbed his neck as pain shot down his spine from Ava's misadventure in tub dunking and finally turned to view the smirking face above him. What a surprise, Rufus. A death glare shot toward the blonde in the overly plush, fancy robe.
"Man… what the fuck?" Reno whined.
"Quit being such a lazy ass and do something with yourself." Rufus disarmed himself, tossing the paper onto the table with a whack. Before a smart remark could be made, Rufus disappeared into his room.
"He did that just to piss me off." Reno grumbled, eyeing Reeve and Ava as they sat at the table, each with their jaws somewhat gaping in disbelief. Then came the blatant laughter.
"I believe he did." Reeve chuckled, replaying the sight of Rufus wandering out of his room, grabbing the morning paper and smacking Reno over the arm with it for no apparent reason.
"I'll have to remember that one." Ava smiled a sickeningly cheery smile while Reno glared her down.
"Yeah, try it, McCall." Reno threatened, rolling onto his feet. His usual suit was likely sopping wet in the bathroom as he'd left it last night, so he opted for a casual outfit dug out of his suit case before he trudged into the bathroom under the gaze of the two at the table. The door slammed shut and more laughter came over the kitchen while he grumbled, stripping off his pajamas. "I can hear you." He called in a sing-song tone.
The laughter died into conversation by the time he'd finished dressing in the black shirt and a pair of pants not too different from his uniform slacks. He tested the suit still hung over the shower rod, finding it remotely dry. It would need to be pressed back to shape, and that would be his excuse for escaping the idiocy. The black attire and white shirt were pulled down and folded beneath his arm as he left the bathroom, eyes focused on his socks as he shuffled into the living room.
"I need to take this in to be fixed up." He murmured, slipping his shoes on while giving a pointed look to Ava. Though she felt some remorse for her little payback in the tub, she simply gave another wide smile. Despite the fact that she looked sweet with that smile plastered over dry pink lips and her hair a mess atop her head, he knew better than to assume the smile meant anything nice. The only response was the view of his back as he headed out into the mild weather Wutai held.
Once the suit was dropped by the cleaners with a two o'clock pick up, Reno found himself wandering down the quiet streets somewhat lost in a memory. There had been some good times had at the local bar with Rude and the rest of them. Mainly Rude, though. He considered Rude to be not only his partner, but his closest friend. The idea of Rude being shot simply annoyed him to no end. On a whim, he pulled his phone from his pocket and put in a call to Elena.
"Yeah?" Elena's feminine voice chimed over the line after two rings.
"Yo, 'Laney. How's Rude doing?" Though his words were short and pointed, he couldn't avoid the tone of concern that bubbled up.
"He's doing well. Dr. Lockton said he's making good progress, he's been awake and dying to get out of bed." Elena was truly nice, when they weren't bickering about something.
"Good. Anymore news on the bastard who did this?" Now the anger became evident.
"Well, not really. We think it's a group, though. There's definitely more than one involved. Wealthy, smart and concise. I'd say they've held quite a grudge, considering they've given problems not only to Rude and Tseng, but to Reeve as well." Elena informed, causing Reno to nod every few words as he ate up the profile.
"Just great. Those are the worst cases… those crazy fucks will go to any lengths to destroy whoever or whatever has them ticked." An exaggerated sigh escaped parted lips.
"I know, they're dangerous. Just be careful, I'll call you if I hear anything. Tseng's coming back, I have to go." He could hear Tseng's voice as Elena's phone clicked off. With that, he hung up, shoving the silver plastic phone back into his pocket.
During his conversation, Reno had strolled into a narrow alley to seek refuge from several of the merchants attempting to sell goods. Noticing a dingy spot on his left shoe, he hunched down beside a large box to clean to stain away. A rather impulsive, but odd movement considering he didn't usually mind a worn look. As he wiped at the spot with his thumb, the sound of muffled footsteps caused him to freeze and silently move backward until he became flush with the wall. The footsteps ended not five feet from him, and he was suddenly quite appreciative of the massive box beside him.
"So?" A male voice, gruff and old, asked.
"They're here. Only two of them, plus the corporate assholes, in a room at the inn." Another male voice, this one more youthful, answered.
"The boss'll be pleased to hear that. Gives him time to move on the other three, since they're not such a pain all broken up." The older voice said.
"So what should I do?" Asked the younger man.
"Keep an eye on the quartet. Make sure they don't leave in a hurry if their friends call cryin'" The man's voice reminded Reno of an old mobster similar to those in the movies. Perhaps this was some sort of gang, but at the moment, he had to find out who they worked for.
Glancing around, he found a glass bottle—though he regretted leaving his weapon of choice in the room at the inn—which made an exaggerated smash against the wall when he separated the glass at the center. The two men were drawn to the noise and as they stalked around the box, he took full advantage of the surprise wrenched in their gut. Swift movements brought Reno to his feet, a hard kick dealt to the older man as he knew the ancient lungs wouldn't withstand such force with any sort of composure. Sure enough, the dark skinned man fell backward against the opposite wall in a struggle to gain his breath. The younger man, appearing only about fifteen or so, stood wide eyed like an idiot. What impressive adversaries!
Reno burst out into laughter while dealing a devastating blow to the young man's face, glass shards digging into his flesh with force. Crimson liquid rolled down the glass bottle as the redhead held it low and threatening. The boy sprawled backward, joining the wheezing old man against the wall.
With a predatory swagger, Reno cornered them with the bloody bottle held just inches from their faces as he spoke in a low voice. "Who do you work for?"
"Fuck off, Turk!" The boy had the nerve to spit a combination of saliva and blood at Reno's face, earning him a hard kick in the stomach. The brunette whined and hunched over, clenching his abdomen. These guys are pathetic, Reno thought, but the way the boy spoke the word Turk gave Reno gooseflesh. Someone's definitely holding a grudge.
"I said, who the fuck do you work for?" Reno never raised his voice, instead opting for that classic tone of indirect threat.
"We'll… never tell you." The old man grumbled.
"Is that so?" A sarcastic grin dominated Reno's lips, the sharp blades of the bottle brought to press small indentations in the older man's cheek.
While Reno poured his attention into carving small divots into the supple flesh, the boy recovered from the stomach injury, taking the opportunity to give a surprising punch to Reno's jaw, sending him back enough to remove the imminent threat of the bottle.
Reno gaped while slender digits rose, pressing against the sore spot on his lip where he found a drop of blood. Turquoise eyes narrowed, finding an anger swelling in his stomach as he reached for the giant box, hefting it into the air with a grunt. A force unseen in the late lazy days allowed him to push forward and smash the brunt weight of the box into the young boy, causing a howl of pain and the sound of bones snapping to pierce the otherwise silent air. Definitely broke a rib, there. Reno growled, using the box to scrape the boy from the wall and throw both the boy and the box to the alley floor in a heaping mess of splintered wood.
In his destruction, Reno hadn't noticed the old man's approaching hand until he felt a vise like grip around his neck. The man was holding him with one hand while holding the apprehended bottle frighteningly close to his temple. The man was stronger than Reno had anticipated and they struggled for quite some time before the dark haired man's eyes simply rolled backward while quite a gory mess of brain matter escaped a large exit wound on the side of his head. Almost afraid to look, Reno gave a side glance only to find he was staring into a silencer a ways down the alley. Explains the lack of noise. The shot must have been a difficult task; between the struggling men it would be hard to get a clean aim.
Hesitantly, Reno straightened out his shirt and turned toward the gunslinger, half expecting to find another Turk. No such luck. At the T of the alley, he found a tall man with long black hair. The red cloak immediately gave him away, just a short second to the shiny golden boots and claw. Vincent Valentine. He sure had been a strange occurrence as of late, saving Elena and Tseng from torture and now practically saving Reno from at the least, a very bad headache. Vincent slid the silenced pistol into a holster beside his hip while approaching down the alley with drawn out steps.
"Worthless, utterly worthless." The smooth voice as Vincent neared the scene. A small whimper came from beneath the box, in all the commotion Reno'd forgotten about the boy.
"I'll say." He brushed a bit of blood from his lips with the backside of his hand.
"I believe your problems are deeper than you might assume. Ancient grudges are the least of the issue..." Vincent spoke confidently, kneeling down to sweep several wooden planks from the boy on the ground.
Reno mirrored Vincent, though his attention was set on milking information from the dying boy. "One more time, kid, or I'll leave you here to die. Who do you work for?"
"…sl..sla…" The boy mumbled beneath his breath. A clear attempt to talk, but in his weakness unable to form words. Something had to be done to preserve any information he might have.
"He's got something, but it seems he's too weak to say it." Vincent observed.
"If I save your pathetic life, you will tell me." Not a question, a demand. Reno swept the kid from the ground and over his shoulder, glancing toward Vincent. "He'll be ready to talk, now." And with a devious smirk, he shuffled down the alley.
The whole ordeal rolled right off his shoulders with a shrug once the boy was resting in the clinic bed, the phone again brought from his pocket as he dialed out Tseng's number.
"This is Tseng." Came with the third ring.
"I have a little information." Reno said with a smile, as he proceeded to tell Tseng of the entire situation.
The tale took no more than a couple of minutes, leaving Tseng quite silent. Why would anyone choose such fools as henchmen? Then there was the whole Vincent Valentine to the rescue, for a second time, detail. What did Vincent have to do with all this? Or was he just in the right place at the right time, doing more favors for them? The situation was only becoming stranger by the second. The alley meeting was quite unprofessional and did not fit the description Elena had given, but perhaps the event was untied to Rude's shooting. Anything was possible.
"Shit. I just don't get this whole thing." Reno cursed.
"It is rather odd. Vincent ought to consider taking up his old career." Was that a joke? A light chuckle confirmed his suspicions. The ever serious Tseng, joking around. What was the world coming to? "I'll contact Vincent and see what it is he has to say about all this. Have the doctors notify you when the kid is ready to talk, perhaps we'll gather a name to shed some light on this. Call if you hear anything, I'll do the same." Tseng was gone, and Reno approached the nurse outside the door.
"Call me when he wakes up, I'd like to make sure he's okay… took a lot to save him from that creep." Reno lied, handing the nurse a piece of paper with his number on it.
"Sure." She nodded, stuffing the white paper into her pocket.
It was only two o'clock, and so far the day wasn't going as he'd planned. A lazy, vacation sort of day was the original plan. Now he'd been in a fight and half immersed in a mysterious plot. A drink sounded quite good, but he couldn't very well stroll into the bar with blood on his lips and splattered on his face and clothing. So he opted for picking up his suit and returning to the hotel to wash up.
When Reno burst through the hotel doors with a swollen lip and a bloody face, all eyes were on him. The hotel room was as he left it, though Reeve and Ava sat on the couch while Rufus typed away on his laptop. Rufus glanced up from the screen, his expression growing in curiosity.
"What happened?" He asked, while Ava rose from the couch to get a look at Reno's lip.
"Ow! Don't touch it." Reno growled while Ava prodded at the wound with a stiffened finger, "Ran into some trouble out in town. Two guys apparently involved in the current attacks. Nearly ended up with a smashed face, before Vincent Valentine showed up. Tseng's on it, though."
"Whoever hit you wasn't a very good shot." Ava marveled, striding over to the freezer to gather a little bit of ice.
"Yeah, but it hurts." He whined, perhaps exaggerating the situation a tad.
"Nothing you can't handle. Vincent's really becoming quite the hero, isn't he? I'm sure Tseng will make sense of this." Rufus mentioned, casually returning to his work comforted by the fact that Tseng would call him if anything important came about.
Thanks for the concern, boss… Reno smirked. Ava was wadding a towel around several ice cubes over by the counter, which surprised him. Perhaps she was still trying to make amends for shoving him into the tub. Despite her intentions, she was tending to his wounds. When the cool fabric of the towel was dabbed against his lip, he sucked a breath past his lips, glaring at Ava. Wounds to the mouth always did hurt worse than many other types of injury. At least he hadn't bit his tongue when he weathered the blow. She used the corner of the towel to clean the drying blood from his skin before handing the ice and cloth to him so he could hold the swelling at bay.
"Vincent… quite the mystery, isn't he?" She mused, recalling a bit of the information she'd heard about Vincent.
"He said something about our problem being deeper than we might assume. Ancient grudges are the least of the issue... he mentioned." Reno cocked a brow, amused by the baffled look on Ava's face.
"What an odd statement." Rufus said, glancing up over his laptop again. "I wonder what exactly he meant."
"I didn't have the chance to question him, the damn kid I smashed needed to get to the clinic. He was on the verge of telling me who he works for, but he was too weak. Tseng said he was going to contact Vincent, though…" Reno informed, shaking his head.
"The clinic's going to contact you when the kid recovers?" Rufus asked.
"Yeah." Reno nodded.
"What a strange thing…" Ava trailed off, tapping her index finger against her chin thoughtfully.
"Strange, indeed." Reeve added his two cents, before rising to his feet and strolling to the fridge.
Reno had one thing in mind; getting a drink. He lazily moved into the bathroom, closing the door to clean his face and hands in private. The task didn't take long, and he took a quick second to jostle his hair. Surprisingly, his clothes remained relatively clean. He was glad he hadn't been wearing anything light in coloration. As cleaned up as he'd ever be, he hovered over the sink with a sigh. This whole situation was taking a toll on him, but he wasn't about to show that to anyone. A deep inhalation gathered his nerves, a twist to crack his back before he strayed back out the door into the kitchen.
One conclusion that came to mind when he entered the kitchen was that again, he did not want to drink alone. Just as it did the other night, the thought of drinking alone seemed utterly depressing. Usually, he had Rude or Elena to sucker into a night of booze. Tonight, there was pretty much one option. Ava was busy with a tossing a couple dishes into the dishwasher when Reno strolled by and snaked an arm over her shoulders, hustling her into the living room. Cobalt eyes widened, peering at him in curiosity.
"So, I'm cashing in that rain check." He stated simply, as if she had no option aside from accompanying him to the bar.
She cleared her throat, tucking unruly strands of chestnut behind her ear with her fingers. "That so?" She asked.
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice." That grin slipped over his lips and she felt like smacking it off his face.
"I've heard about the bar here… legendary." She said.
"Yep." He waved at Reeve, "Don't wait up."
Reno swept the hesitant brunette toward the door, feeling the tension brewing. Tonight would be fun, at least for him. It was like having Elena around all over again, perhaps even a little better, since Ava had that witty attitude.
Not twenty minutes later, Reno had Ava sitting on a bar stool with a nice glass of vodka chilling on ice. The bar was a little on the empty side, considering it was a Sunday evening. The quiet atmosphere weighed heavily on an already deafening silence.
"Do you just dislike me, or what?" Reno asked, breaking the silence.
Ava said nothing, only stared blankly while taking a sip of the clear liquid.
"I mean, did Elena tell you all about big bad Reno? The womanizing alcoholic with a lazy yet cocky attitude? The trouble causer, cold blooded killer?" Overboard, Reno… but effective.
Another blank stare met turquoise eyes. For a moment, he wondered if she planned to sew her lips shut for the entire evening. Finally, she averted her gaze to the floor. "It's not that. Elena had colourful things to say about you, but she said just as many good things. You shouldn't be so hard on her."
"So …" He began, but found an interruption when her eyes focused back on him.
"I don't dislike you. Will you just drop it?" A sigh emanated from her lips.
"Yeah, yeah." He closed his eyes briefly, recalling a similar argument he'd once had with Elena. A bad habit, perhaps, but he found himself unable to resist tormenting new comers. Not that he didn't also try his best to be sarcastic with most everyone. Psychobabble might have blamed inattentive parents or self-consciousness for the character flaw, but the cold truth was that he simply had a sick sense of humor. A little to keep people at arm's length, as well.
Ava returned to sipping her drink while the speakers above head sounded out old songs she hadn't heard in some time. Reno was simply wishing that Rude would walk through the door any second and save him from the boredom hanging on his shoulders. Something had to liven this night up a little. Or someone. Ava had turned her head away, peering at the photographs on the wall. Perfect opportunity. Reno plucked a cube from his drink, holding the leaking ice between his thumb and forefinger. With a quick movement, he simultaneously pulled the collar of Ava's shirt away and sent the ice cube streaming down her back. A shrill squeak broke that awkward silence she'd created and she twitched like a wounded animal, none to graceful, desperately trying to pull her shirt away to free the ice. A matter of seconds and the cube shattered as it fell to the floor, leaving Ava silent as she whirled in the stool to face Reno.
"You needed to cool off." He remarked, a sly smirk painted on his lips.
"And you thought that might help?" She was fighting to keep her tone civil.
"You certainly are cold now…" He said, sending a pointed look to her neck and collar bone where goose bumps had risen.
"Enough." She cut him off shortly, a striking harshness in her voice. The vodka was downed without hesitation and she snapped her gil on the counter, "You said to have a drink with you, I have. Paid in full. Goodnight." And she started for the door.
Reno simply watched with a grin. Success. Ava was far too easy. He brought the small glass from the counter, swishing the ice around before taking a healthy sip.
Just outside in the darkness of the setting sun, a figure dressed in black clothing huddled against the roof top across the street from the bar. A long rifle rested against the roof, the scope pointed perfectly toward the quaint bar. The mysterious person squinted, gazing through the scope at a telltale pony tail of fiery red, rising steadily. Perfect aim. The sniper's forefinger twitched, pulling the trigger of the silent M40A3.
"Damn," the voice cursed, along with a shake of the head.
The cliffhangers just get worse and worse :) Well, that was the exciting chapter 5. I focused a lot on mystery and finding out just who is after the Turks. As you might suspect, it's beginning to get dangerous! Well, thanks for reading and I do hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Please review if you have a moment.
