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34. Eber - Messenger
Eber wasn't sure what was up, but something was wrong with Naifu. Maybe he was just attuned to the fickle ways of females during their hormone cycles – Chloe was a nightmare and freely admitted she turned into a harpy five days of every month – but as soon as Naifu met him that morning he could tell something was wrong, and that she was trying to hide it. She didn't want to talk, which was fine, but Eber wasn't a hard-hearted man. He wondered if that would get him taken out of the Turks and put back in an office. Whatever the case, he was still green enough to this job to care about his partner-for-the-day and want to make her feel better.
Naifu resisted his efforts like a sulky clam. She only loosened when they got their itinerary from Tseng and set off for another visit under the Plate.
Chloe had been horrified when she found out he was moving departments. Denzel didn't really understand. He had decided his dad was now some sort of espionage agent and lorded it over the other kids in his class. Not one of them believed him, much to his chagrin. He regularly came home complaining how everyone called him a liar, until Eber had taken him to one side and said maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell everyone something that really ought to stay secret.
"Oh," Denzel had said, tapping the side of his nose. "Riiiiight."
"That kid slays me," Eber had said to Chloe as their son ran off to his room.
"Just as long as nothing else does. I want you to promise you'll come home to me every day."
Eber had hesitated. He couldn't make a promise like that. Or he could, he just didn't know if he could keep it. He wasn't stupid. There had to be a reason for the high staff turnover in the Turks, and he didn't think it was because they were all taking early retirement or leaving to start their own bookstores.
Chloe had taken him by the lapels and kissed him hard. There had been desperation in her kiss, of a kind he hadn't felt from her since before Denzel was born – possibly even before they were married. She'd kissed like she was worried she might lose him, and that terrified her more than anything else in the world.
"Promise you'll at least try."
"That I can promise you."
She'd accepted, but she hadn't been mollified. Chloe's problem wasn't that she didn't understand the pull his job had over him, taking him away from his family all the time. Her problem was that she understood far too well.
"It's a pay rise," he had said, trying to buoy her. "We can finally buy those little luxuries we've been promising ourselves."
"Like a new vacuum?"
"I was thinking more like a widescreen colour TV with surround sound, plus a cooler filled with beer and a cable that stretches all the way into the middle of the sitting room."
The memory of her laugh sustained him at moments like this, when he felt thoroughly out of his depth and didn't want to look over his shoulder in case he could no longer see the shore.
Naifu's forehead puckered. Chloe's did that when she was worried about bills and their ability to pay them. Eber drew closer, but not too close. Being around so many hair-triggers had given him a new and healthy respect for personal space – especially after his stint accompanying that bad-tempered martial artist, Youhei. She had nearly cracked his head open several times, claiming he'd startled her, but he didn't believe all of them were accidents.
"Hey, are you all right?" he asked Naifu.
She blinked at him. "Creaky brain," she said after a moment. "I hate coffee, so it takes me a while to get up to speed in the mornings."
"Right." Eber was unconvinced. "How's your partner?"
"Bored and cranky. Cranky and bored. I'm actually a little surprised he's still stuck at base. Usually paperwork comes after a mission or as a form of punishment. He'd give his eyeteeth to be in your place right now, enjoying my fabulous company." She flashed him a more familiar bright smile. "But I get to corrupt you on my own until his return."
"At which point you'll palm me off to some other poor unsuspecting fool ripe for babysitting duties."
"Palm you off? That sounds so wrong."
"You're telling me. I'm married."
Naifu pulled up short. "Listen, don't spread that around, okay? Not that it would ever happen, since most people who'd want leverage over a Turk are pant-poopingly scared of the wrath of Shinra, but it's not a good idea to broadcast it if you have innocents in your life that the really dodgy scumbags can use against you."
Eber nodded soberly. If anyone ever touched Chloe or Denzel, he would kill them without hesitation or regret. He knew this with a cold clarity that shocked but didn't surprise him. His family was his life. He would do anything and everything in his power to protect them.
Naifu made sure he got the message before starting off again. "Most Turks are free and unattached. It makes it easier that way." She spoke idly, but her words made Eber shiver. It was easier not to leave too many repercussions for people to deal with if you turned up dead. Turks kept their ties minimal. Whether it was so they wouldn't be missed, or because the job itself prevented a lot of socialising outside the department, Eber still wasn't sure. The Turks were an odd bunch.
It was sobering to think he was one of them now.
Well, until he screwed up and they bumped him back down to cubicle monkey. Maybe even lower. He could end up in the post room if he wasn't careful.
Afterwards, he wasn't sure whether the screw-up was actually his fault. His head cracked against the side of the building with considerable force, so a lot of what happened was a blur. The things he did remember flickered between images and sounds like a scratched DVD skipping scenes: a figure dropping from a fire escape above him, the darkness of an alley, someone cutting off his windpipe, Naifu's shout, the clatter of metal, and the dreadful certainty that he wasn't going home tonight. He thought he fought back. He definitely tried, but when it was bone versus brickwork, not even the worst gambler bet against the bricks. His attacker bounced his head off the wall several times and left him in a crumpled heap, trying to make his arms and legs work and panicking when they wouldn't.
"Hey, blondie." Someone dragged him up by his hair. He couldn't focus on the face. A dozen places on his body screamed. "We got a message for you to deliver to Rodriguez. Either he shows his coward face, or we show him his girlfriend's, only she won't be attached to it no more and it'll be nailed to a building in the slums."
"He's out of it, boss."
"Damn it. Paper. Give me some paper! And a pen. Who the –"
Naifu … Eber sank into unconsciousness and heard no more.
