Veld is not a man that takes on power through reasons of ambition or greed, Veld just doesn't tolerate 'persistent avoidable incompetency'. I hadn't been in the Turks more than six months when I got a call telling me to head down to one of the slum districts, sector 4.
Idly my mind wandered as my strides took me fast, deep into Midgar – we didn't work together, the most I'd seen of the man was during my assessments. I was the best shooter around, undoubtedly, yet all Veld had done was silently appraise me with hard brown eyes and then pass me over to the next recruit. Not that I cared. My skills with a gun spoke for themselves and evidently Veld must've thought so too or else I wouldn't be headed the way I was headed right now. To sector 4.
Still it was odd, Veld worked with Tally – she was the Chief, though really they headed up the Turks together, like some fucked up perfect family replete with matriarch and patriarch. Flicking a cigarette away I checked my watch. No sense in being early. Giving myself the luxury of a few blank seconds I then rounded the corner to the coordinated destination where things started to make a whole lot more sense.
Tally was knelt at Veld's feet, wrists and ankles bound. Veld himself stood over her like some impressive guard hound and nodded as I walked up "Right on time. Good." I acknowledged the validation as my eyes returned to the Chief. She was a blonde, petite, never a hair out of place and that held true even then. There were no signs of struggle, Veld hadn't roughed her up. All that marked her slightly was a cut on her lip which she sucked on slowly, then spat out red-tinged saliva as I approached.
Veld was giving out instructions and my body obeyed without hesitation. The nuzzle of my gun settled in the centre of her forehead – execution style – as Tally closed her eyes, and her lips began to move. I couldn't make out what she was saying but I saw Veld's granite eyes were locked on every word.
I pulled the trigger.
Veld knelt besides the body and I saw him fist his fingers into the top of her shirt, snapping off a chain which he pocketed. Turks don't keep trophies I thought, then shrugged and lit up another smoke, wiping down the spatter on the front of my jacket. A bag was thrown in my direction, which I caught, breaking my freshly lit cigarette. Scowling lightly at Veld, he merely stared back and pointed at the bag "Take off her clothes, remove any identifiers." before beginning to untie her wrists.
Quick work was made in disposing of the shoes and trousers, soon enough Tally was stripped to her underwear. I always thought she'd be the type for sensible underwear but there upon her body was a full set of fairly racy white lingerie, suspenders and all. Caught looking, I shrugged again and went to pick her up at the ankles. Veld had already taken her wrists. It was then I noticed the obvious distension of her abdomen that had been concealed under the masculine line of the suit. Her racy white knickers had started to spot red.
And I remember her shutting her eyes as I pressed the barrel to her head, her mouth moving as if in prayer.
"I didn't think Turks prayed." I said lightly. Hoisting the body in amidst the trash that lined this particular street – evidently why Veld chose the spot – the new Chief of the Turks brushed his hands down his jacket, patting a pocket and drawing out a light which he offered to me. "They don't." His voice was equally detached "Not any more."
Lighting a new cigarette with the offered light, I looked at Veld in the eyes. "Congratulations on the promotion" I said. He just looked straight back and replied. "Likewise, Vince."