Chapter 8

Loz had always found working on something with an engine incredibly soothing; but he had never tinkered with anything that hummed and vibrated to a low, steady beat, feeling just a little bit alive under his fingers.

He had been surprised when Cid had accepted his hesitant offer to help patch up the ship; after all, it had been partially his fault, he could have ended the fight at any time; but it had been such a long time since he had just fought someone for the sake of it, with no motive, violence or intent behind it save to enjoy the experience. He was sure the girl did not see it that way, she had been very serious in her attempts to kill him, but he had known he had nothing to worry about; nothing short of a shot to the head would do any truly terrible damage.

He had been created to be the human equivalent to a battle tank, to be as indestructible as living flesh could be. It had its advantages.

He and Cid hung from harness's below the prow of the Airship, Cid had been adamant she not be moved as the only open ground to set her down was outside city limits, too far away should anything happen. Loz was silently and secretly glad of this decision, he would not have liked to be too far from his brothers.

"Hey Kid."

Loz glanced across at the man; they had been working in silence for nearly half an hour, broken only by muttered curses, and vague threats of death, all centred around the girl. Loz had expected everyone to immediately pin the blame on him and his brothers, but as of yet no one had even mentioned his involvement; except the black man with the mechanical arm, but he had been distracted by the little girl; the one he had taken at the church.

"Yes?" he was wary, understandably. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Yer brother, Kadaj. What's his problem?" Cid did not look at him, concentrating on smoothing down one of the jagged ends on the tear so he could get his hand inside where Loz could see some sort of mechanics, and wires. It was like he was just making conversation, like the answer didn't matter, but Loz know better, even if his social education had been lacking, and their isolation since their escape had made it near impossible to interact with regular people.

He thought quickly, hoping to find some way to answer without really answering.

"I want the truth Kid. We can't help you unless we know what the hell's wrong. So far you and Yazoo have shown us you ain't all that dangerous, an' that ya can keep Kadaj's fits o' temper in check. But ya gotta know, he's the one that everyone is gonna be watching, if he puts a foot wrong there ain't gonna be anything me or the others are gonna be able to do to stop others killing him if they think they have a justification. So, you tell me what his problem is and we can start trying to find ways to fix it, or at least limit the damage if it does happen."

Loz, who had been watching Cid the whole time blinked slowly. Cid had still not looked up, still just as focused on the stubborn bit if hull as he had been before.

Could he trust him?

Could he explain the fits? He knew that Kadaj would be the most likely of all of them to start something that could endanger them. Not of his own will, but if he was having a particularly bad fit there would be nothing that could stop the destruction; and it could be mistaken as a deliberately malicious attack, even if it wasn't. If he told, explained, made even this one man understand, would it help?

"Kadaj…" he had made his decision, likely the hardest decision of his life. But he knew, if they were to make a new life for themselves they would have to start trusting. It seemed like Cid would have to be the first.

"When we were in the labs they used to have him on a lot of different drugs. I don't know what they used, and neither does he. When we got out he started to have fits… some of them weren't too bad, just left him tired. Others made him get violent, he attacked everything. It took a long time for me to realise what was wrong. He wouldn't tell me… Yazoo always knew, when a fit was coming." He clarified, turning his attention to the ship and the area he had been charged with fixing, hoping to hide his shame. "At the labs they gave him tests." He continued quietly. "Things to challenge him, time limits, things that would keep his mind active and focused, things that would make him a better killer. When we escaped there wasn't all that structure, and there wasn't anymore drugs. It was hard for him. He has a… a suicide protocol; they brainwashed it into him or something."

Loz closed his eyes, hand clenched hard around the tool in his hand, mind flashing back to that terrible day when he had found Kadaj seizing on the dirt floor of the cave they had been living in, choking on his tongue. But even that was overshadowed when Kadaj had informed him after that he had given in to the overwhelming urge to just swallow his own tongue and end his life.

"When he can't think his way out of something, or he isn't being challenged enough he… he'll…"he flinched away from the words, taking a steadying breath before continuing. "I started sending him out to find things for us, anything to keep him occupied when we weren't moving. Teaching Yazoo to talk helped, because it took Yazoo a long time to catch on." There was little more he could add.

There was silence, and Loz could not keep his apprehension in check any longer, and glanced at Cid. The man had finished smoothing down the edge of hull he had been working on and was eyeing the inside, considering, and Loz wondered for a second if his trust had been misplaced.

"I'll need to tell the others." Cid said finally, his eyes leaving the ship to lock with Loz's, steady and honest. "Doubt I'll be much use, don't reckon him for the mechanical sort."

Loz couldn't stop the snort of laughter at the idea of Kadaj trying to fix up a bike or an airship. Oh, Kadaj had taken a cursory interest, but once he had learnt the basics he had shown no further interest, mechanics were more Loz's area of expertise. "No, no, definitely not mechanically minded at all."

Cid smiled easily. "Figured. Not to worry though, Tifa and Reeve will come up with something."

Loz tried to put a face to the name Reeve before recalling the man Kadaj had nearly killed. His concern must have shown on his face because Cid reached across the space between him and gave his arm a reassuring pat.

"Reeve doesn't know how to hold a grudge kid, don't worry about it."

Loz found himself inclined to believe him.

The both returned to their work, and soon only muttered curses broke the comfortable silence once again.

More often than not Reeve felt out of touch with those he considered his friends and allies. After ShinRa had fallen he had been content to fall back into what he did best, building. He had laid out tentative plans for the construction of Edge, intending to only offer up plans, to get the rebuilding started. He had not expected to become the CEO of the World Regenisis Organisation. That had happened by accident, and was entirely the fault of a certain loudmouthed pilot.

So, following a comedy of errors and miscommunication, Reeve had found himself the leader of the WRO, terrified that he might become the next ShinRa. It was because of this particular fear that tended to keep him very much separate from those he now considered to be important to him; simply because he had to double and triple check all his orders, all his scientists reports, all his military reports and all his building plan approvals.

He did this, not because he didn't trust the people he had hired, recruited or otherwise brought under his WRO wing, instead it was because of his own paranoid fear that he might miss something that could so very easily turn into something too big to deal with; something that could turn him into the new ShinRa.

Because of this, Reeve tended to work nearly twice as many hours as anyone else on his staff.

"Hello?" he answered his desk phone with no trace of the fatigue that was creeping in at the edges.

"I don't think your secretary likes me."

"Rufus?" Reeve asked, surprised. He had not spoken to Rufus ShinRa in many months, not since he'd made his anonymous donation to the WRO, anonymous in the sense that everyone knew exactly where the money came from, but pretended they did not. They needed the money, but they could not afford the residual stigma of being associated with ShinRa.

"I doubt anyone else would have such a difficult time getting through to you." Rufus' tone was wryly amused, and Reeve shook his head with a small smile; despite the younger mans short-comings, Reeve had always had a fondness for him.

"You do have my PHS number." He reminded him.

"Would this be the same number that keeps sending me straight to voicemail?"

Reeve frowned and reached for his pocket to dig out is PHS, flipping it open when it was free from the confines of his coat. The screen was blank, and hitting the "on" button failed to power it up. "Sorry about that." He said.

"I would tell you that you are working too hard if you forget to charge your phone…"

It was the note of apology in his voice that alerted Reeve to the fact that there was something wrong; a slip Rufus rarely let show. "But?" he asked. Rufus did not ask for favours, the Turks did not ask for favours, they had even refused his offer of assistance when Rufus had been kidnapped.

"I've received a threat." Rufus told him.

"Against yourself?"

"No, not as such. We are dealing with the situation; but I am willing to admit that there may come a time when we might need some assistance."

Reeve could hear the reluctance in Rufus' voice, and he knew it was serious if it had forced Rufus to call in the WRO. "What's the situation? I'll have a team set to standby."

"A Dr. Jameson has made contact in the form of a letter, demanding the return of his clone, or he will wreak havoc with some weapon that can kill without leaving a mark." Rufus informed said.

Reeve stifled his shock at the mention of the clones; ShinRa meetings had been useful for something beside's driving him to an early grave after all. "Clones?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

Rufus sighed. "It seems my father and his idiot henchmen were involved in more than just the ridiculous experiments that created Sephiroth. We are verifying the information now, but it seems that the three… lunatics, behind the 'Reunion' might actually be clones of Sephiroth as opposed to just Remnants of himself."

Reeve glanced at the three files at the edge of his desk. "But didn't Cloud kill them?" he hoped the lie didn't sound as obvious as it felt.

"Most likely. I've got Reno and Rude out searching for their bodies. Tseng and Elena are looking for information on this Dr. Jameson and anything they can find on the clone's." There was a rustle of paper on Rufus' end of the phone, and he was silent for a moment. "I've been going through what files I have left looking for whatever this weapon might be, but I have had no luck so far, my best guess is that it is some sort of poison or gas.."

Reeve pulled over a sheet of paper and a pen. "So what sort of resources do you think you'll need?"

"A containment team. It's likely that the Turks can handle the scientist. The problem arises if this weapon goes off. My people don't have the means to stop the spread of an airborne agent."

Reeve nodded. "Let me know when you intend to move in and I can have a perimeter set up just in case, with some scientists ready to make a counteragent."

"I wouldn't ask Reeve," Rufus began, but Reeve gently cut him off.

"This is bigger than you can handle alone Rufus. There is no shame in asking for help when you need it. There may come a time when the WRO requires your aid."

That startled a laugh out of Rufus. "An organisation such as yours Reeve?" there was humour behind the words.

"I keep my options open, and one never knows what the future holds." Reeve told him. "I'll have that containment team ready and waiting."

"Thank you."

When he'd hung up, Reeve dropped his head into his hands for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally he pushed his chair back, and with a determined set to his mouth stood, pocketing his phone and striding out of his office. He paused briefly to tell his surprised secretary to inform the head of security to put together a biological containment team, before he continued his way to the helicopter bay.

It was best if he took this news to Cloud and the others in person.

"You're redecorating?"

Reeve had never seen the bar look in such a state. He hadn't been sure what to think when he'd arrived to find the bar shut and the sounds of heavy work going on within.

"Oh Reeve!" Tifa said from across the room, where she was directing Barret and Cloud in removing the larger pieces of… was that broken wall? Reeve shook his head and stepped gingerly around a stack of broken wood. "Good timing. I was just about to call you."

"About?" Reeve asked before he realised exactly what she would have been calling him for. "I'll sign off on the permission when I get back to my office." He promised. "What happened?"

"We had a bit of an incident earlier." She told him with a pained look.

"It wasn't my fault!" Yuffie burst out suddenly, giving Reeve the impression that this was an ongoing argument.

Tifa rolled her eyes. "It started over pancakes and escalated to building demolition and airship defacing."

Reeve had to fight to keep the chuckle from escaping, taking a quick glance around the room to be sure that Cid was not within sight or earshot. "I take it you've had a rather trying morning?"

"It has been that." Tifa smiled. "What can we do for you. I don't think you came down to lend a hand."

Reeve's amusement faded. "How are your guests?" he asked.

Tifa frowned. "Reeve?" she asked, growing worried.

"We need to talk, and I believe it would be best if your guests were not present, for the moment at least."

"Kadaj and Yazoo are upstairs, and Loz is with Cid fixing the airship up."

"Perfect. Yuffie, could you gather everyone else together for me." Reeve asked.

Yuffie made a huffing sound. "Since when did I become your servant?"

"I don't have servants Yuffie, only staff." Reeve reminded her. "And the jobs still there if you want it."

Yuffie gave an inelegant snort before stomping off to do as she was asked. Reeve watched her go and did his best to contain a weary sigh.

"Sit down Reeve and I'll get you some coffee." Tifa said, taking his arm and leading him to an unbroken chair. "You look like you've been working too hard again."

Reeve gave her a grateful smile. "I'm always working too hard." He said. He was not looking forward to telling the others this new information, not at all. "No rest for the wicked." He infused as much humour as he could into the words, but from the look on Tifa's face he could see he had fallen short.

It did not take long for everyone barring Cid and the clones to gather. Reeve waited until they were seated before starting to explain his sudden presence, but he was interrupted before he had even begun to speak by a loud knock on the door.