AN: Last time on Like Turks: Dyne almost killed a man called Reno just to watch him die. Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.
So, Godo's sword is, of course, one of these: wikipedia dot org / wiki / Katana
But Tseng's is one of these: wikipedia dot org / wiki / Jian
Finally here is your music for this chapter: www dot youtube dot com / watch?v=gaZOGhESWmg
Tseng flew through the air, leg extended. Godo waited, feet planted wide, then seized him mid-flight, and hurled him against the side of a train car. The metal punched in, and he fell to the ground motionless.
"Your wushu is weak, Tseng! Like the thin blood in your veins!"
Gradually, as if waking from a nap, Tseng got up, and dusted off his coat.
"Don't insult me," he said, and coughed. "Quit pulling your punches."
Godo's face flared; he struck another stance, fists balled and close together. Again Tseng rushed at him. This time, however, he feinted at the last minute, ducked to one side, and swept Godo's feet out from under him. They grappled briefly on the ground; then were back on their feet, trading blows.
They didn't seem to be maneuvering for advantage; simply pounding each other as hard as they could. Their bodies thudded like wood as fists, feet and elbows collided. Blood flew from Tseng's lip. Godo began to hold himself lower, protecting his injured stomach. Finally Godo roared, stamped his foot, and the air around him burst in a sonic boom. Tseng was thrown back, but kept his feet. He rolled one shoulder, touched up his bleeding lip, and cracked his neck.
"That was some workout. Ready for Round Two?"
Bent over, Godo was laughing darkly and wheezing at the same time.
"Ha, her, ha, her…if there's one thing…I could always say about you, Tseng…you keep that miserable attitude of yours to the last."
"Master Qan always did like you best."
"I think…he resented…your success with the ladies. We…all did."
"I'll bet he did, the old monk. But," he said, with a glance at Yuffie, who had thrown herself underneath one of the cars, "now I'm frigid as Icicle Inn, and you've got a cute little daughter. She must have been born by then, Godo. Why did you keep her a secret? Perhaps her mother was a disreputable woman?"
"Of course she was. But she was the most beautiful woman in all Wu-Tai. She's dead now," said Godo, the anger suddenly returning to his eyes, and he charged at Tseng. Tseng flung up the briefcase, deflecting his punch, then leapt up in the air.
He landed on the roof of the car behind him, one hand planted between his feet. Godo hesitated a moment, watching him, then ran down the length of the car; Tseng followed, but Godo jumped and made the roof before he caught up, and got his footing. Again they faced each other.
Godo held out his palm, and the flickering air around it glowed blue.
"Guardian spirits of Wu-Tai!" he called out. "Gods, sacred protectors! Imbue my hand! Magic Change!"
With a crack like a firing gun and a plume of white smoke, a long, curved sword appeared in his fist.
Tseng held out his palm; it glowed black, as if the hand were covered in oil.
"Guardian spirits of Wu-Tai! Gods, sacred protectors! Imbue my hand! Weapon change!"
Godo watched in enraged disbelief as, with the same eruption of smoke, a perfectly straight blade, with a red tassel swinging from its pommel, appeared in Tseng's hand.
"How…still…?"
"It's magic, Blue Dragon. That's all it is."
"Die for your blasphemy!"
And once again they came together.
A gun rack stood near the service entrance of the garage. All its forty sockets were fitted Z-190 assault rifles, top-of-the-line Shinra weapons. As the Don or his ilk might have said, they had, in fact, "fallen off the back" of a Shinra truck. As each man entered, dressed identical to the others in a black button-down shirt and blue jeans, he took a gun from the rack with a pregnant click. When the last man passed, the rack was empty.
Four armored cars, rough marks on their sides where the logo of a well-known security company had been scraped away, were parked in the center of the garage. A man in a white suit, with a pale lilac tie, stood beside them, hands in his pockets. His fair hair was combed off his forehead, and his pink face looked scrubbed. It was a blank face without distinguishing marks, except the thick glasses that gave the eyes a bored, fixed look. Beside him stood Dyne, wearing suspenders and a pound of gauze bandages. The men assembled in front of him.
The Rat King coughed into his handkerchief, folded in neatly, and put it away, before addressing them in a mild voice like a school principal: "We move out now. We find the two senior Turks and kill them. This stone could be worth more than the sum total of all other materia that have passed through our hands. Do I make myself understood?"
"Yes, sir," they said, in a flat chorus.
"What happens to any man who turns back?"
There was no answer, and evidently there didn't need to be; as the King gave a smile of quiet satisfaction.
"You have each been issued a weapon. Your four team leaders have been outfitted with Cure and Barrier materia. Apply immediate, lethal force. Attack until you die."
"Yes, sir."
"The law of this world," said the King, and he rose a bit on his toes, scanning each of their faces, "is plain for anyone to see. The strong survive. The weak perish. Each one of you is here because you are a tested man. But with increased opportunity, comes increased danger. You will be tested again and again, until the day you die. Those who fall will be thrown on the dump with the rest of the garbage. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"You are my deathless soldiers! Now move out!" He hefted his gun in the air, each man did like likewise; and as his sleeve fell, a bangle was revealed, set with yellow, pink, green and red materia.
Tseng and Godo were both breathing very heavily now. Tseng was cut across the forehead, and kept wiping the blood from his eyes, while Godo had taken a deep cut in his side. There was no way the fight could continue, but neither was willing to be the first to admit it.
"Not…bad…old man," said Tseng.
"It has been a long time…since I had to exert myself to such an extent."
"Yeah, well…you're welcome, you interfering pest. You take the girl…I'll take the stone. Shinra will never use it. It'll get locked away somewhere, I'll see to that…"
"Unacceptable."
"Godo…I admit it…I shot Zhang in cold blood. It doesn't have to be the same with you. Go back into hiding."
"It sickens me that I am the one who needs to hide."
He managed to get his breathing under control, and struck another stance, although there was little power in it. Tseng did likewise.
In their stillness, the lethal poise of their bodies, was a hint of motion.
The handcuff chain attached to Tseng's wrist swung gently back and forth. It was no longer attached to anything. It had been cut clean through, though whether by Godo's sword or Tseng's own, there was no telling. Godo stared at it as if hypnotized.
"What happened to that case?" he asked dully.
Tseng glanced down from the car. "What happened to your daughter?"
They looked at each other.
"This is your fault, Tortoise!"
"Suck on my balls, Dragon, I'm not the one who started it!"
"You started it when you…"
"Enough about that, the girl needs to be…"
Godo had already taken off, pounding down the back of the train.
"Tseng! We'll finish this some other time!"
"Fine, you coward!" Tseng yelled after him. "Run off and leave me holding the bag!"
Or, Tseng reflected bitterly, not holding it, as the case might be.
The door to Tseng's office was open, and Rude knocked on the inside. Several large books were assembled haphazardly on the desk, and Tseng had been pouring over one of them. He removed his small reading glasses and looked up.
"Ah! It's good to see you again."
"You as well, sir. Are you…feeling alright?"
"What's that?" Tseng asked sharply. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well…it's just that, I heard the Wu-Tai girl was working with Reno. I thought she might've wanted to get even."
"It's not in a child's nature to hold a grudge," said Tseng, his eyes momentarily going distant. "I think I managed to knock some sense into her. Hopefully, she won't throw her life away chasing dead gods."
"Any leads on where she is?"
"I'm not concerned. She'll go back to Wu-Tai, of course, and with us watching the jet-ports, the only way is the ferry between Junon and Costa Del Sol. It leaves once a week, so we should have plenty of time to track her down. On her own, she won't put up much of a fight, and the Rat King won't have the stomach to pursue us out of Midgar."
"He…well, Dyne knows there are more pieces of the stone now. Reno blurted it out. Since we've taken such an interest in it, he'll know what it's worth."
Tseng nodded. "That's true, I suppose. We'll deal with him if it comes to that. Anyway, come here. I've been consulting some old treatises, and it would seem there is no known method of sundering a materia…" Rude came closer, and they studied the book together. "Materia have, however, been found in natural shards. It should re-form naturally in a mako-rich environment. The sages of Wu-Tai probably had our materia caves in mind, but the inner chamber of any mako reactor should do. The only danger is, if it should fall into the reactor pool, the results would be…catastrophic."
"No chance trying it in Midgar, then."
"I hope Heidegger will see that much sense. Pack a suitcase; we're headed for Junon." Then he smiled. "Who knows? If she makes it as far as Costa Del Sol, you can pay your family a visit. Your mama must worry about you."
"You don't know the half of it," Rude said, a bit ruefully. "Oh…sir? There is one other thing. Have you given the issue of that promotion any more thought?"
Tseng leaned back, stretched his arms over his head, and sighed. "Why is everyone riding my ass about that? I'd like to, but now is hardly the time."
"Have you considered Therese?"
Tseng shook his head. "I think she had one too many shocks in combat. She used to be one of the best, but anymore, I wouldn't trust her under pressure."
"What about Hunter?"
"He's good too, but he's a career man. He sees the Turks as a stepping stone to a job like Scarlet's or Heidegger's, and he kisses my ass all day long. The only future for a Turk is being a Turk."
"What about Celestine Honeydew?"
Tseng pinched his eyes shut. "Her hair and eyes are a funny color. Also, I suspect her of having a crush on me."
"Respectfully, sir, I think you're grasping at straws. Is it possible…you don't really want that position filled?"
After some thought, Tseng shrugged, and spread his hands.
"What can I say? Valentine was a legend, and he makes me look like a rookie to this day.-What are you angling at, anyway? I think you're trying to tell me something."
"Well, sir…it just so happens, I may have found a candidate." Turning his head, Rude called: "You can come in now."
The door opened further. Reno, in his old, worn suit, looking even shabbier than usual under the cool professional lighting, and more than a little nervous, stepped in. He avoided Tseng's eyes, and scratched under his left armpit.
Tseng looked up, blinked once, lowered his eyes, and resumed flipping through the book. "Rude," he said, "you're fired, go clean out your locker."
"I'm not joking, sir."
"Then neither am I."
"This kid is very good, Tseng. He handles himself under pressure. He…thinks creatively."
"What would you know about that? All you do is shut up and follow orders, and believe me, I appreciate it."
"That's my point, sir. I think the team you're building needs someone…not like me. Someone, well, more like him."
"We need a scrawny thief like we need a teenaged girl for a cheerleader. Get him out of here."
"In all seriousness, the kid…"
"Hey," Reno burst out, "enough with the kid stuff, alright! You aint that much older than me, pal."
Tseng looked up again. His mouth was set as his eyes bored into Reno's. Reno swallowed, but didn't look away this time.
"As for you," he said, "Rude is everything you'll never be. He's discreet, reliable, and he gets the job done. You screwed up so badly, everyone involved almost got killed at some point. Now. Because Rude vouches for you…I'll renege on my oath to murder you and your whole extended family. But I have been known to change my mind. So I suggest you leave this building as fast as your little legs carry you. Understood?"
There was the slightest hint of disappointment in Reno's face. Not as if he had lost something he wanted a great deal; more as if something he'd suspected his whole life had been confirmed. Lowering his eyes, he nodded.
"Fine. I thought the bald guy was kidding anyway. I'll keep my supply closet virginity."
"What?"
"Forget it. Thanks for nothing, brother."
Reno turned on his heel, and walked calmly out of the room. Rude looked to Tseng.
"Should I go after him?"
"Let him find his own way out. I hope he wanders into a restricted area; they'll shoot on sight."
Rude continued to look at Tseng, his hands in his pockets, his expression difficult to read.
"Is there something on my face?"
"Sir…admit it. The reason you won't take him on, is the same reason he's the man for the job."
"And what, pray tell, is that?"
"He got you, Tseng. He really got you."
"Every man gets lucky once in his life. It's too bad for him, he blew his one chance on something like this. Don't be too sorry for him, Rude. A man like that will never amount to anything."