Espionage 101; Lockdown in all the wrong places;
Espionage 102; Good-bye Mrs. Sharp; Club meeting.
His own talent for espionage surprised Reeve. Without Cait Sith's request, he'd have never realized how alteration of digital records and exploring code for vulnerabilities were simple extensions of his existing skills. Therefore, it was easy to obtain the health records of a random assortment of SOLDIERs. Getting hold of the medical machines Cait requested took more effort, and he found that falsifying reports of needed maintenance or replacements was the simplest means of doing so.
The requested medicine and chemicals, however, proved difficult. Even after gaining the access codes to the storage areas, getting physical copies of the required keys was impossible for Reeve.
Cait Sith made himself useful there, stealing the keys and making imprints of them. Despite his cheerfully flamboyant nature and outlandish appearance, he was an unnoticeable pickpocket. Then, since Reeve had no business going into the Science Department's storage rooms, Cait Sith stepped forward again. The cat crawled through the air ducts and dropped into the right rooms while Reeve sent loop feeds to the security cameras, ensuring the thefts remained as inconspicuous as possible.
The two of them talked over the pros and cons of taking the supplies slowly, or all at once, in one large theft. In the end, they decided on a mixed strategy. The more common items they removed a few at a time, as though they were simply misplaced. Once they had all of those, they made their big strike.
By then, they were practiced and familiar with the guard schedule. Cait Sith snuck in during the small hours of the morning, while Reeve sat at his computer, heart in mouth, watching his false footage in one window, and in another, the A.I. filling a sack with the most strictly-monitored and vital items.
The response came only forty-seven minutes later when a technician on an overnight shift discovered the theft. All of Floor 63 was shut down. The Turks and infantry conducted sweeps of the surrounding floors, and brought in every employee who'd gone onto those levels for questioning. All crates and boxes that had left headquarters over the past week were called back or tracked down.
Nearly all. Urban Development had such heavy shipping, its internal transfers were at the bottom of Turks' priorities. When Reeve submitted his list of shipments for checking, he arranged it from most to least likely to carry contraband - and he marked the boxes of obsolete and discontinued parts as least likely. These crates were stored in Urban Development's oldest warehouses, located in the slums. Outfitted with sentry robots and patrolled by Shinra MP's, the buildings dated to the early construction of the plate pillars.
By the time the Turks got around to checking these, Reeve hoped, the incriminating items would have already moved on. Things were progressing so smoothly, he was growing anxious, superstitiously fearful that it was only a matter of time before it all went wrong.
Two days after the theft, a Turk intern entered his office as he was packing up for the day. His pulse ran cold at the sight of the blue suit. Logically, he knew that if he were suspected, they wouldn't have sent an intern. The jolt of panic still left his palms sweaty, smudging the papers he was putting in his briefcase to work on at home.
The Turk smiled like he knew he made Reeve nervous, and drawled, "Yo, boss, got the car ready."
He clicked the lock on his briefcase shut. "Thank you, Reno." He slipped on his suit jacket, restraining a sigh. Since the disastrous South Sea mission that led to a warship sinking, his limited freedom had shrunk again. Now he was chauffeured daily to and from his home. This was the first time a Turk, no matter their level of training, had come to fetch him.
He headed with Reno for the elevator, the two troopers assigned to guard him stepping in with them. He could identify one immediately as Zack Fair by the big grin under the helmet. He was the only one of Reeve's guards who could be counted on for friendly conversation, the others seeming to feel that chatter would impair their imposing appearances. Sure enough, as soon as the doors to the elevator closed and they began their descent, the young trooper started talking.
"Hey, Reeve, looks like we're going to spend the night with you."
His head jerked toward the boy. "What!?"
"Trooper, can it, yo," Reno scowled.
"You're spending the night?" Why? Did they suspect him of something? Did they know? He looked to Reno for explanation.
Reno indicated the troopers with a lazy wave. "They are. AVALANCHE turned up in Junon today, and if they're willing to show their faces over there, you can bet they aren't scared of showing here. So, everybody important's getting permanent security."
Many thoughts crammed into his head at once. His future self was only a day or so out from Midgar. How could Reeve meet him with a pair of Troopers dogging his footsteps? Despite his recent forays into deception, he couldn't imagine coming up with a lie that would get them to leave him alone for the meeting. And the truth - that AVALANCHE wasn't a threat to him, that they were already operating in the city - was right out.
Part of him was bitterly offended, too. If he actually were in danger from the time travelers, then a pair of troopers wouldn't be enough to save him. It was a paper courtesy, informing him of his marginal importance.
Or... it could be they wanted to get rid of him. He, President Shinra, and Hojo were the only remaining board members, as Palmer had finally tendered his resignation. 'Willingly and graciously' as the company email put it, he'd stepped down from his position as Head of the Air and Space Department, 'for the betterment of the company.' Reeve had rolled his eyes reading it. He'd been at that board meeting. 'Gracious' and 'willing' were not the words he'd have used.
The group exited the elevator into the basement parking structure. "Wait here," said Reno, and sauntered off. Reeve transferred his briefcase to his other hand, wincing inwardly at the sweatiness of his palms.
He could see why they might wish him gone. He rarely agreed with the president. Captain Darill was likely to become the new Head of Air and Space, and her agenda wouldn't align with the president's, either. Rupert Shinra was feeling lonely and in need of allies. By clearing Reeve's seat and assigning it to someone who favored him, he'd keep the board's balance of power tilted his way. Darill wouldn't be able to do anything, just as Reeve was helpless now.
The drive to Reeve's condo complex felt longer than it was. He found the troopers' chatter, Reno's barbs, Zack's jokes, irritating. By the time they were walking down the carpeted hallway to his spacious apartment, he was ready to be done with human company for a time. He wanted to settle down with his cats, a glass of wine, and the blueprints Cait Sith had brought.
Drat. Cait Sith. Was the A.I. at the apartment, or was he down at the warehouse? He didn't want anyone from Shinra to meet the A.I. yet. Perhaps if he called out to his cats that he had guests, it wouldn't look like he was telling someone to stay hidden.
As they reached his door, Reno deftly swiped his keycard from his hand. "Let me, boss. No telling where those bastards might be."
"I highly doubt -" He started to protest, but the young Turk was already strolling in, confident and alert. All he could do was close his eyes and pray.
"Reeve! Welcome home, laddie," a cheery voice called from deep inside the apartment.
Oh no.
"Ah got the last of it safely stored away, though it took a wee bit longer wit' all that new security patroling aboot. But Ah'm e' en better at this than Vincent and Yuffie, if Ah do say so..." The A.I. poked its face around the corner and froze, grin dissolving. "...mahself."
On hearing the voice, the two troopers had flung themselves in front of Reeve, Zack ready with his tonfa, the other with his gun aimed into the unlit entry.
Reno had also drawn his mag-rod, but as he processed Cait Sith's words, he turned so that he stood between Reeve and Cait Sith, keeping an eye on both.
"So. Vincent, yo. You're leaking to Valentine's group?"
The troopers' postures softened as they hesitated. Their helmeted heads turned slightly toward Reeve.
He squared his shoulders. What unfortunate timing. "I haven't leaked anything." Yet.
Two fluffy shapes appeared for a moment in the doorway behind Cait Sith - Reeve's two elderly rescue cats. They stopped in their tracks on seeing the strangers, then vanished. Reeve resisted the urge to try calling them back. He could use the moral support. Cait Sith, rubbing the back of its head, grinned weakly at him.
"Right." Reno eyed him, then gestured at the dim shape of the modular sofa ahead of them. "How about you take a seat and tell me what the hell is going on, and what the hell that thing is. Fair, get the lights on, then you two sweep the place. Make sure there ain't anybody else here."
"The lights are sound-activated," Reeve offered. "Just clap twice." Zack began holstering his tonfa, but Reno stopped him.
"Don't. Turn 'em on by hand."
Reno must be cautious about traps, Reeve realized. He sat while Zack felt his way to the light switch on the wall. The bulbs, of Reeve's design, produced a crisp, pale light, illuminating the living room and balcony. Framed photos, plastic plants, antique brass implements, and interesting electronic gadgets stood on every surface: the tops of the tall bookcases and shelves of blueprints, the low coffee table, a two-person dining table. The furniture was modern and finely-made, and despite the clutter, the whole place looked neat and well-tended.
Cait Sith approached, and Reno pointed his mag-rod at it, halting it. "Whoa, there. You don't move unless told."
"Alright, laddie. I unnerstand' yer caution."
The Turk glared at Reeve. "You. Talk, and start with what the hell this thing is."
Reeve contemplated what best to say. He felt rather numb, and he took several deep breaths, trying to put his thoughts into some semblance of order. He'd have to tread carefully. He wasn't interested in lying on behalf of a group he still had concerns of his own about. Furthermore, prevaricating to a Turk, even an intern, was risky.
"Cait Sith's an A.I. in a robotic body. A little over two months ago, it showed up in my office and gave me a memory drive with the most incredible blueprints. All sorts of technology - vehicles, consumer goods, more efficient power plants, a whole new design for the city…. For free, might I add. It would help Shinra and Midgar. It would help all of humanity and the planet, really. So I took it, naturally, though perhaps I didn't look too closely at where it came from. Don't look at a gift chocobo's beak, as the saying goes.
He held his hands out like he was accepting a gift. "There was so much. It was like a miracle. Things I'd never even dreamed of, but once I saw them, I could see at once how I could produce and use them. It would jump our technology decades ahead." He searched Reno's face for a flicker of understanding, but the Turk stood with arms crossed and face a mask of disdain. He folded his hands in his lap again.
"It wasn't until the fourth airship showed up that I really started questioning. I learned then I was dealing with AVALANCHE." His fingers tightened against each other. "But let me ask you, what have they done that has truly hurt the company?"
"Killed Scarlet in cold blood."
The woman's incredible callousness had made her and Reeve natural enemies. After the shock of her death had worn off, he'd found he didn't mourn her.
"She was corrupt and cared little for consequences. Her machines often harmed civilians and targeted SOLDIERs. It may sound cold of me, but was her death actually a loss?"
Reno drummed his fingers against his arm. "They got Air and Space to strike. And 'cause of that, Rufus is dead, and Heidegger's in a coma. And it fucked us up pretty good in Wutai."
He shook his head. "Palmer was incompetent, an anchor dragging the company down. We were better rid of him sooner rather than later. As for the other two, unforeseen consequences."
He had suffered some pangs over Rufus - cold as the boy had been, he had been a boy. Like the intern in front of him, and the troopers making noise down the hall. Who knew how they would grow? "Though, do you really miss Heidegger?"
"So, you're in the loop with what they do?"
"Not at all."
"What about all those scientists they killed, and the stuff they stole?" Reno's eyes slid back and forth from Reeve to Cait Sith. The cat stayed quiet, uncharacteristically subdued. Perhaps he was feeling guilt over triggering this interrogation.
Reeve was not sure what to say. "I'm not sure of their reasons, but I can make a guess." He fell silent, gathering his thoughts.
"Give it," Reno prompted.
"They're... angry. SOLDIER is in trouble. The enhancements have an unforeseen side effect. A virus, if you will."
There was no reaction from Reno. The noise of the troopers searching continued unabated.
"Apparently the Science Department is well aware of this, but they haven't bothered looking for a cure. I suppose that's why AVALANCHE is so unfriendly to that department. They're currently trying to find a cure for the afflicted SOLDIERs." His mouth quirked. "I had a conversation with Cait Sith about the irony of them trying to save those trying to stop them."
"Yeah, real ironic. The stuff this thing was talking about earlier, I'm gonna make a guess of my own and say it's the missing stuff from Science here at H.Q.?"
Reeve's fingers were cold, the tips numb. He folded his hands tighter. "They did ask me to collect a few things for them. Yes."
"And you just handed it over to them?"
"Of course not." At Reno's disbelieving stare, he continued, "I wish to meet with them, to understand who they are, what their goals are. So far, making the world a better place is something I can agree with, but I want to know more. How long will their goals benefit Midgar? Who are they truly? What cost will we pay-"
"Wait, wait. Hold up. You've arranged a meeting with them?"
"I have, but if I don't go alone, they might not show up. Cait Sith is right here." The robot waved a gloved paw. "If you interfere with the delivery, I'm sure he'll tell them, and they won't show then either."
Reno considered the cat. "So it's a spy-bot?"
"I ken speak for meself, laddie. I'm a robot, and I ken do surveillance, but I'm nah tae be defined by mah functions, any more'n ye are."
"What's to stop me from taking ye, shit, you apart and digging the info we need out of your circuits?"
Cait Sith squinted up at him, smiling. The light sparkled merrily on the tips of his plastic fangs. "Weel, laddie, I dinnae come wit' an off-switch, an' I ken self-destruct. So maybe tha' ain't the wisest course."
Reeve's blueprints included no such feature. He tried not to side-eye the cat and give its bluff away. On the other hand, maybe this Cait Sith could blow itself up - that would be of a piece with its many other mysteries.
"Shit." Reno twirled his mag-rod, considering, then said, "Shit!" again, with considerable vigor. "So this meeting you got is our best chance at getting information, isn't it."
"Yes."
"Dammit. Okay, when is it?"
"Within the week. We haven't set up a date yet."
"Okay, so they'll know you got caught. Yo, cat, will the contact still show up?"
Cait Sith tilted his head and rubbed his chin. "If ye'll still be delivering the items, and dinnae come with the whole army or a bunch of Turks and SOLDIERs, Ah dinnae see why not."
"This trade can't be one-sided, cat. That's stuff expensive. We'll need some good solid info in exchange, yo."
"Ah'm sure we ken get ye somethin', though we've already given ye a fair bit."
"Oh, really? Like a headache?"
Reeve interceded. "More in line with several billion gil's worth of technology." Decades' worth of research and development, at least, if not the material finished products.
"You serious?" Reno let out a low whistle. "I'm gonna need to see all that."
"Of course." Reeve nodded, keeping his composure.
A voice rang from the left side of the apartment, "Clear!", followed by the reappearance of Zack. "Nothing to report," he said to Reno, then called, "How's your end, Kunsel?"
There was a noise of doors closing, and the other trooper called back, "Looks good."
"Aight," nodded Reno. "Then get busy guarding, or whatever." Zack obligingly took up a station by the door but didn't leave the room, Reeve noted with distress. It was probably too late already, but he didn't want any consequences falling on these young men because they overheard something they shouldn't.
The Turk resumed the interrogation. "Where's the leak? How is AVALANCHE getting company info?"
"Certainly not from me," Reeve said.
Cait Sith, however, only grinned.
"You're a real pain in the ass, ain'tcha?" Reno got a sly grin too, and relaxed his posture, holstering his mag-rod at last. "Aight, then. You know what? I think I can work with this. You just want some shit to fix up our SOLDIERs, yeah?"
"Tha's right."
"And you'll give me information in return?"
"Aye, but it may nae be all you wan'."
"Yeah, yeah. As long as I get something yo, and I mean something good, out of it, then I think we can work together."
By the door, Zack straightened in concern. "Wait, hold up! You can't be serious! Working with terrorists?"
Reno shrugged easily. "I'm not working with them, I'm making a deal. We need info, they're willing to give some up. Apparently, SOLDIER's got problems they're willing to fix."
Kunsel's voice floated in from down the hall. "You believe them?"
"Let's just say, I'm gonna look into it." Reno pointed, cold-eyed, at Reeve. "Just like I'm going to look into all the tech they gave you. Need to make sure they didn't slip anything weird into our system, yo."
Zack ripped off his helmet to better show his dismay. "So we're not going to report anything? Just stay quiet about a conspiracy?!"
"Guys, this is what we call a promotion opportunity. We get some valuable intel as feathers in our caps, and get ourselves into our right jobs. I'm in the same boat as you two! I should be in, but I ain't."
"Huh?" said Zack. Kunsel reappeared in the hallway to listen, looking somber.
"Kunsel, you should already be a SOLDIER, and Zack - you should be training under a 1st Class right now. But you're both stuck on the welcome mat. I shouldn't still be a damn intern. This is gonna give the three of us a fucking boost, yo."
"It'd be safer to just turn them in," Kunsel observed.
"Does everything I say go in one ear and out the other? Look at it like this. We turn them over, robot here self-destructs, and we're left picking up the pieces. We interrogate Reeve, who definitely knows more than what he's telling us, but I'd wager a thousand gil it won't be much in the way of helping us find, fight, and catch AVALANCHE. And we let this golden opportunity for collecting information slip through our fingers. Get it?"
Zack scratched his head. "Sooo… lose the battle, win the war?"
"Finally, he gets it!"
Zack's whole face was a wrinkle of worried thought. He glanced over at Kunsel, who stayed impassive. "You sure we shouldn't report this to anyone higher up?"
"Look, the more people who know, the more likely somebody either scares off the informant or puts the kibosh on the meeting. You gotta keep things like this on the down-low."
He should report it. That's what Reno told himself all that tense, sleepless night, but he didn't do it. Director-for-now Tuesti went to bed, and the troopers went on watch, prowling around the apartment, not talking. Even big-mouthed Fair kept his yap shut. Reno sat in the living room, watching the robot, and using the quiet to think.
It'd all come together in his head like a flash of lightning. Now he needed to figure out how he was gonna make it all work. His phs stayed silent all night. He was glad - if a superior had called, he might've blurted it all out, just so he wasn't the only one sitting with it. Across from him, in the armchair, the robot hummed jaunty little tunes and swung its feet. It seemed unconcerned.
In the morning, he brewed a fresh pot of coffee and ignored the disgusted faces the troopers made drinking it. Tuesti came out in a bathrobe, looking haggard. Reno guessed he hadn't got much sleep either, which seemed only fair.
Tuesti poured himself a mug, grimaced at the sludgy mixture, checked the coffee maker, and gave Reno a pained look. Reno sipped at his own, smirking. He took his coffee scalding and tarry, and he might've broken the director's fancy coffeemaker getting it to produce the right consistency.
They drove back to the office, as though nothing weird happened overnight. Reno was determined not to tip his hand to anybody. A new pair of troopers were waiting in the hallway outside Reeve's office, and Reno dismissed Zack and Kunsel with a stern glare. Kunsel saluted professionally back, but Fair had a big-ass frown. Reno'd have to deal with that sooner rather than later.
Sharp, Reeve's secretary, followed him, Reeve, and the robot into the office. She set a double handful of folders on Reeve's desk, ignoring Reno, and started running down the department's work overnight.
"Hey, lady," Reno said.
She flicked a narrow-eyed glance his way.
"You're fired."
The blood drained from her face, her jaw dropped. Tuesti wheeled toward him, thundering, "How dare you!"
Reno held up his hands placatingly. "Relax, Director, she's not kicked out of the building or anything. We're just gonna get you a new secretary, yo, one who's had defense training." He looked at the secretary. "When all this blows over, you can have your job back."
Her hands were trembling, but her jaw clicked shut, and she gave him a look that could've peeled paint. Reno didn't feel sorry. Trying to thread the needle here, he felt tense. Eager. Flying high, really - this was some exciting shit.
Tuesti still wasn't happy, but he couldn't exactly argue with Reno right now, over anything. If power was a scale, Reno was standing on the heavy side. So he had to sit grimly at his desk while Reno watched the old lady gather her things.
It was time. He pulled out his PHS and rang the Administrative Research floor. A crisp-voiced secretary answered him.
"Hey, it's Reno. Send Glen on down to Urban Development, the director needs a new secretary. Pick up some shit for me on the way, aight? A number one combo, with two café au laits and some piping hot fries, yo."
The latest Turk code was cafeteria themed. It predated Reno's formal induction, but it was from long after Valentine's tenure. Reno hoped the order was innocuous enough to slip past anybody tapping this call.
When Glen arrived, she brought a blowtorch and two white-noise jammers with her. Reno welded the air vent in Reeve's office shut and attached one jammer next to the door, like a call button or something. The director, looking worried, handed over the flash drive with the supposed "several billion gil's worth of tech."
With a warning to the guards not to let anybody except him in or out of that office, Reno slouched off.
Zack and Kunsel were halfway back to the thirty-story skyscraper that housed the local corps, Fair with his helmet off again already, when Reno pulled up beside them in the black company car and rolled his window down.
"Get in. You're not off the clock."
"Sir?" asked Kunsel.
Reno slapped the side of the car. "C'mon, shake a damn leg."
They scrambled into the back seat, and he screeched away, flipping off a truck that was a little slow getting out of his way. "So," started Zack. Reno reached over at once and turned on the radio, a big thumping bass noise. Fair got the message and shut up, frowning harder than ever.
He drove them over to Western Heights in Sector One. On a street lined with bars, restaurants, and clubs, he pulled into a subterranean parking garage, flashing his I.D. card at the entry machine and getting in without a parking receipt. As far as the machine was concerned, a space was being filled, but nobody would be in it. Turk privilege.
The alley door they took into a closed club recorded nothing either, security system temporarily overridden. In a backroom, all beaten metal and dark green leather, the Turks were waiting, as Reno had asked for with his 'number one combo.'
The troopers froze up a second, presumably with shock, then Fair pounded Reno on the back.
"I knew it! You were just playing it close!"
Cissnei and Emma gave the noisy interloper razor-eyed glares over their styrofoam coffee cups. Balto rose from one of the plush black armchairs and beckoned them in, setting aside a book called "The Finer Elements of Level Gains". On the table beside him was "Extreme Level Grinding".
Weird choice of reading material, Reno thought, going to get a tiny fist bump out of Rude. Everyone knew if you wanted levels, you needed to go out and hunt tough monsters or get into real fights. None of that sissy sparring stuff - hitting the gym just didn't give enough exp. Katana, in charge of Midgar while Veld was out, had no chance to do either. Reno wondered why he'd want to waste his time reading about it instead.
The senior Turk looked over the troopers he'd brought with him. "This had better be good, Reno, to call us out of Sector Zero."
Reno gave a lazy shrug and took the other jammer from his pocket, slapping it on the wall. Then, to make doubly sure, he went to the room's stereo, fiddling with the dial until he got to a talk show. He turned to the others with a grin. "Oh yeah, trust me, it is. Director Tuesti's in contact with AVALANCHE."
"What!?" blurted Emma. Cissnei nearly dropped her coffee, and even Balto looked rattled. Only unflappable Rude showed no reaction.
"Yeah, that toy we saw him talking to? It's an A.I. spy from AVALANCHE." He tossed the flash drive to Balto, then caught them up about the A.I.'s mistake in Reeve's apartment and the following talk.
"They've arranged to have a meet-up in the slum's livestock market. Very public, very noisy, loads of monsters drawn to the area - it's great for anybody looking to shake off pursuers. And big delivery trucks are everywhere, so they can transport the goods without problems."
The others listened in silence. Reno wrapped up by asking the troopers if they had anything to add, not expecting much.
Fair just burbled something about being uncomfortable with lying, he was glad they'd reported it so he didn't have to worry anymore. But Kunsel surprised Reno.
"I think that spybot, or whoever created it, is from Kalm. There's local legends about a fairy cat named Cait Sith, and the bot's got the same accent as my great-grandma. And, maybe related, maybe not, but I saw the director has a whole lot of books on myths and folktales."
Balto's eyebrows rose, and he nodded. "Good observations, trooper. Thank you. You're dismissed - please wait in the hall for Reno."
They left, and as the door clicked shut, Emma crumpled her empty cup into a misshapen ball and chucked it across the room into the trash. "So he's the company leak?"
"One of 'em," Reno answered. "I think there's more than one hole in this ship. That cat-thing's had the run of H.Q. for close to two months. It could've put something in our system. With this higher level of tech they supposedly got -" he waved the flash drive - "they could have surveillance we can't detect."
Emma tapped her chin thoughtfully. "It's like that airship. Where are they getting this technology? It's not coming out of Wutai, and we've taken out all our other competitors."
"Grudges can last a long time," Cissnei said. "Some of the company's old rivals still have deep pockets."
Emma shook her head. "Deep enough for this? This much time, this much money, this many resources? Without us hearing so much as a peep about it?"
Rude disagreed too. "We've looked into it. No links yet."
Fingertaps against a book spine brought their attention back to Balto. "Something else, just as concerning. A new development came in overnight from Tseng. Our last record of Vincent as a Turk has him at level 29. In Junon, Tseng cast Sense on him and the younger look-alike. Vincent is now level 31.
"The look-alike," Balto took a deep breath, "is level 99."
"The fuck!?" Reno choked.
Emma took a step forward, blue eyes alarmed. "That's got to be wrong."
Balto's fingers drummed along the book. "Possibly. But from now on, everyone is to carry Sense. If you get an opportunity to read any member of AVALANCHE, take it."
"Yo, I don't have a Sense materia."
"I don't either," added Emma. "I requested one a year ago, but there weren't enough materials then."
Balto nodded. "We'll assign SOLDIER a mission to gather some, and tell the Materia Development Department to make Sense production their priority."
Cissnei said, "That's good thinking, but if the number was right, what can we do against someone at that level? Sephiroth is the strongest the company has, and he's not even above 50."
"What we always do, but smarter. We can't fight them with strength, so we'll fight them with intelligence. We know they're in our system. From this meeting on, we only talk about them face to face, or in code. And we'll use a new code, nothing Vincent might know."
That didn't lift Cissnei's frown. "I don't know how effective that'll be, sir. Level 99… They've got to have experienced so much, is there anything we can do that'll surprise them?"
A moody silence followed.
Pressing her fingers to her temple, Emma grumbled, "I need more coffee. Looking at AVALANCHE's actions in the southern islands and Junon versus their massacre in Banora, it's easy to see that they have conflicting interests in Shinra. Rude and I have chased down every wild hare we can, but we still can't find a link between them and anyone in Science."
Reno said, "Tuesti said maybe they're ticked off at the Science Department."
"Still doesn't explain the high level," said Cissnei, folding her arms. "These are kids, which means that's not a naturally-obtained level. You'd think that if somebody inside the company could force level gains like that, they'd stay quiet about it? I don't. That's a sure-fire track to a board seat if I ever heard one."
Emma sighed. "And we're no closer to why copies. Besides both Valentines and the Nibelheim people, they've grabbed that look-a-like from Junon."
She nodded toward Rude. "We found a notepad Hollander left in his apartment. Genesis' cells can superimpose themselves over others, but it's all work from right before he left for Banora, and it was all petri-dish level. If we're talking clones, I don't think it was Hollander's doing.
"So, not part of Projects G or S?" asked Balto, confirming.
Emma's shrug was eloquent. "Maybe a leftover of Professor Gast's? But I don't know who could have been keeping it up."
"Maybe there was something running underground," Cissnei mused. "The swordsman is very SOLDIER-like, and he's one of the youngest. Maybe he's the final product."
Reno waved a hand. "Hey, rookie here. What're Projects G and S? Who's Gast?"
Balto shook his head at him. "Sorry. You haven't got the clearance yet."
Irritation prickled through Reno in a hot flush, but he kept his mouth shut. The return to the thoroughly gnawed-over bone of AVALANCHE's goals and this reminder of his status left him restless. He'd come in with a big coup, and this bombshell had drowned it out. But that didn't mean his was less important.
Rude rescued him, asking Balto, "What do we do with Tuesti?"
The flash drive turned over and over in Balto's long fingers, black plastic and gleaming silver metal. "Reeve's an idealist. He was contacted before they'd shown their darker side, and I imagine he's persuaded himself, or they've persuaded him via the cat, that he's making hard choices for the company's sake.
"We'll leave him under your supervision for now, Reno. Prevent him from leaving H.Q. Hojo's gone to ground, leaving him the only board member available except for the president. We don't want yet another department destabilized, particularly not Urban Development."
Reno smirked at Balto's euphemistic phrasing. With its consumer goods, and of course, the mako reactors, U.D. brought in most of the company's money. Weapons would be an honorable second, with its security robots bought by everybody who could afford one, except that they spent nearly half of their earnings cleaning up their own messes when bots went rogue. Science produced a lot of medical devices, medicines, and potions, but wasted billions of gil on projects that went nowhere. Public Safety ate gil and shat out bills, and Air and Space drank mako fuel like water.
"But - office arrest? That's it?"
"No. I want to discuss this with Veld, but I'll suggest an interrogation without the A.I. present, and an assets freeze. None of his new projects will go forward until we have a chance to go over these plans." He held up the flash drive, then slipped it into an interior coat pocket.
"As for the A.I., a self-destruction option seems… overly convenient. I don't believe we should risk testing it, though. We can't afford the time."
"Yeah," said Cissnei. "We've only known about them for two months, and look at everything they've managed to wreck in that period."
Emma grinned fiercely. "We're catching up, though, at last. Tseng and Rod were on 'em in Junon, and now Reno's caught 'em with their figurative pants down."
"Level 99," sighed Cissnei. "Let's not start celebrating just yet."
"She's right, though," said Reno. The excitement was starting to crackle through him again, electricity up and down his spine. "They can beat us in a straight fight, sure, but when it comes to information, we're closing the gap."
He couldn't wait for the rendezvous.