Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII. I depend on my daughter, Angeal Valentine, and on Bjanik for all my information on the subject.
A/N—We're still "real time" in New Banora.
(11 pm, Mideel; 9 pm, Midgar; 5 pm, Gongaga; 1 pm, Wutai)
Lynette Hiland stood horrified in the remains of her office. Glass was everywhere. Every monitor was shattered, and several body guards were bound with video cable and gagged, while several more were dead. She began screaming, ending with the cry, "Angeal! ANGEAL!!" Lynette Hiland ran for the residential section of New Banora while shouting orders for all the fighting clones to be released to the surface.
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In a ventilation shaft crawling upward, toward ground level, Rude's prosthetic arm was not functioning correctly. "Damn it," he paused, then called softly, "Sinclair! Hold up a second." Rude wasn't ready to reveal their Turk names yet. Vanessa-7's trust in him might shatter, and they still needed her help to get to the surface.
"Now what, yo?" Reno, in the lead, stopped.
"Something's wrong with this stupid arm. It's not connected right."
"Fine. You fix it, while I scout on ahead." Reno crawled up the shaft away from Rude.
"Yeah, fine." Rude turned his head and called over his shoulder, "Seven, give me a hand with this thing, will ya?"
Vanessa-7, who had been pushing their body-laden dolly while Rude pulled, crawled up to him. "How?"
"Here. Unzip me," Rude pointed over his shoulder to the back of his night Turk suit. "I'll see if I can fix this thing."
"OK!" Vanessa-7 initially moved the zipper pull quickly, but as it lowered, Rude could feel it move more and more slowly with each inch. When it finally stopped, he felt the clone's hand move aside the black fabric. She bared his upper back and left shoulder, and her fingertips dragged across his skin.
"Seven?" Rude felt her tongue move across his shoulder blade, then her fingers pulled the suit from over his shoulder and exposed his upper arm and the prosthetic's attachment plate. Rude felt a small shiver run up his spine and turned his head over his shoulder to see Vanessa-7 gazing quizzically at the juncture. "Seven?"
"I just wanted to see what you felt like… tasted like." Her head dropped. "Sometimes clones aren't kept around very long." Her voice sounded sad.
"Seven." Rude sighed. "Why aren't clones… 'kept'?" He paused, unable to think of a better word.
Vanessa-7 tilted her head sideways and looked at him, a pigtail swaying. "If Dr. Hollander doesn't like you, he sends you to disposal." Rude started. Genesis Rhapsodos had also condemned him and Reno to "disposal" as well. "Vanessa #3 dropped a bottle of GA#20 last week." Vanessa-7 shook her head sadly and looked away. "My sister isn't here anymore… I think Dr. Hollander'll be really angry if he finds out I'm pushing him around on a cart."
"Nothing's going to happen to you, Seven." Rude gripped her upper arm with his right hand, then pulled her head to his partially bared chest. "You have my word." Rude smiled at her, then realized his facial muscles weren't used that action. Need to work on that.
"Okay." Vanessa-7 replied with none of her usual bright enthusiasm. "Thank you."
"Come on, you two! Break it up!" Reno had returned. Rude snarled.
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As Rhapsodos swung his sword at the injured Kamui, shotgun pellets collided with his hand and arm. "What?!" The blade flew away while he gritted his teeth in pain and anger then clutched the shredded limb to his chest. The weapon embedded itself in the ground. More lead pellets slammed into Rhapsodos' side and shoulder. "Damn it!" He leaped back, out of the line of fire, and away from the woman, then grabbed the sword. Have to get healing materia!
Rufus Shinra ran forward out of cover as Rhapsodos moved away, but stopped once he realized that it would be useless for him to chase an ex-Soldier. Rufus slammed a shell into his shotgun then a sob caught his attention. When he realized that it was his bodyguard who was crying, he rolled his eyes. "Stand up," he ordered. In a daze, Kamui stood by using one of her katanas to aid her while her wound seeped blood onto her shirt. Rufus nodded, "good." He inspected the woman—she had several nasty looking wounds—but he stopped cold when he realized the color of her hair and the nature of her eyes. "What?" He reached out a hand and rolled a few strands of the silver filaments between his fingers. "Just like his…" he whispered. Rufus stared at the cat-slit eyes, "exactly like him." Then milky, white inner-eyelids swept over her eyes. Startled, Rufus stepped back. His eyes swept the battlefield, and he readied his shotgun, "Can you fight? You're no good to me if you can't!"
Kamui nodded weakly, "yeah…"
Rufus flicked his bangs out of his face. "Good, because we're about to have company." He pointed his shotgun toward at least a dozen grass-covered plates opening upwards from the ground. Throngs of grunts came surging forward—more clones had arrived.
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On the far end of the field Genesis glared at his mangled arm for a moment and grudgingly pulled out his PHS. "Argento, I want you to move toward the north front and clean up here. Oh, and if you see a Sephiroth clone with a Turk carrying a shotgun, kill them!" As he hung up, he glared at his PHS then caught a glint from one of the clone's hairs caught on his glove. Thoughtfully, Rhapsodos wound the long hair around his forefinger then stuck it in his mouth and sucked on it—yes, the energizing, sweet taste of Jenova! It had been so long. The ache in his degenerating shoulders subsided. He headed underground in search of materia.
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Tseng glanced around the battlefield and found that no matter how many clones his Turks mowed down, even more replaced them. He ducked behind a small apple tree. It was hardly adequate cover, yet it was the only cover available. Tseng spotted a clone, whipped out a pistol, and shot the clone in the head. He unloaded his empty magazine, exchanged it for one in a pocket, and inserted the new magazine, chambering smoothly. Looking up, he spotted a group of clones converging on a partially exposed, blond head near the ground, and his eyes went wide. Forgetting Turk protocol, he charged forward from the safety of the tree and shot down the clones. "Elena!"
The girl was slumped on the ground, her right hand clutching her left side, her eyes closed. As Tseng approached, Elena laid her head on the ground, panting. Tseng knelt beside her, and she opened her brown eyes. "I'm fine, sir. Just had the wind knocked out of me."
Tseng's brows knit under his chakram. He saw blood trickling between her fingers. He signaled to a group of nearby Turks using the signs for "medical attention" and "cover us." They nodded and set down suppression fire, while the commander turned his attention back to Elena.
Despite her blood loss, Elena felt a flush creep up her face as she watched Tseng's eyes sparkle with concern—and anger—in the faint moonlight. She knew she'd made a terrible mistake—she'd just lied to her boss!—and she dropped her gaze to the ground. Worse, she knew that he knew she'd lied to him! Commander Tseng had ordered the last man to lie to him terminated. Oh, she was in trouble!
"I need to see your wound." Elena nodded and slowly removed her hand. Tseng felt the color leave his face as he saw a long, deep sword slice below her ribs that penetrated her abdominal cavity. The wound was caked in blood.
"It's not that bad!" Elena defended, "I took out the guy who did this!"
The dark-haired Turk shook his head and pulled a cloth from one of his pockets. Carefully he daubed away the blood around the wound, inspecting it. Tseng lips tightened into a thin line. Damn it—Elena was insisting "it's not that bad" all the while her life was draining away! Have to watch her—that was two lies in three sentences—hopefully, it wasn't three lies in three sentences. Tseng applied his master materia to the wound and muttered, "Cure3," then watched the wound heal. He leaned back, breathed a sigh of relief, and then placed his hand on top her bloody fingers on the ground. "You…" he faltered.
Elena bit her lip, "I-I'm sorry. I'll try harder next time." She caught sight then of his hand atop hers.
"Elena… Never lie to me." Tseng muttered as his hand tightened around hers. "And don't scare me like that!"
"Sir?" Elena gave him a puzzled, even fearful, look as she met his eyes.
"I care so much for you. I have tried to stay away from you, but I don't ever want to see you hurt again." Tseng whispered, "of course, we may not live that long given our present circumstances."
"I promise to try harder next time." Elena saw the worry in his eyes and something else she hadn't expected. "Jayna told me she thought you liked me. Guess she was right…" Elena brought her free hand up and ran the back of her fingers against his clean-shaven cheek. She smiled. She liked the feel of his skin.
"Yes. She was." Tseng's free hand grasped her hand tighter against his face. Tseng watched her eyes—his interrogator senses fully extended. What he saw there made his heart turn over—his feelings were returned! Easy, Tseng, this is not really the time nor the place for this. His hardened features softened under the pale glow of the moonlight.
"Thank you, sir, for the cure."
Tseng leaned forward. "Call me 'Tseng,'" he muttered.
"You're welcome… Tseng," she whispered just before their lips met.
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Rufus Shinra jammed more shells into his shotgun in preparation to fire, but Kamui raised her hand and stopped him. "Wait a minute."
"Why?!" Rufus frowned at her.
"I don't like killing…"
"Fine. Whatever. But if you're planning on doing something, would you mind letting me in on it?" Rufus rolled his eyes before he focused on the woman.
"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"
"And you're one to talk, Ms. Emotionally-Distraught-for-No-Apparent-Reason?!"
"Urgh! Just shut up and fight!"
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Genesis Rhapsodos stood at the door of the sample preparation room, and yelled. "Hollander! HOLLANDER! Where in the hell are you?!" He stormed through the sample prep room and into the store room—nobody there. Then it occurred to him. He had had no report that those pesky Turks had been sent through disposal. Just then, two of the cute Vanessas appeared at the door giggling and licking lollipops they'd clearly pilfered from somewhere. They froze, wide-eyed, at the sight of Rhapsodos. "Have you seen Dr. Hollander?" he snarled.
One Vanessa with a long ponytail shyly nodded her head, the other didn't move. "We were helping him look for the men, but we haven't seen him lately." The other Vanessa, her hair a mass of strawberry-blond curls, nodded her head vigorously, curls bouncing.
"What men?" Genesis asked suspiciously.
The first Vanessa tilted her head sideways, her ponytail swinging. "The new ones he said we could play with… from the surface. You know."
"What?!" There was no telling where Hollander was now, nor those blasted Turks. Hollander may well have betrayed him, but it rather sounded as though that hadn't happened; otherwise, the Vanessas wouldn't have been looking for the Turks. Rhapsodos' eyes narrowed. "And the pregnant woman?" Clearly there were no pregnant women in any of the tubes in sample prep.
"What's a 'pregnant woman'?" Both Vanessas stood there, gaping at him.
Rhapsodos pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. The headache was going to be fierce—maybe even a migraine. He was beginning to agree with Hollander. Clones might well be too annoying to live. "There was a woman with a large stomach brought in earlier in a flex tube. Do you know what became of her?"
The Vanessas shook their heads in sync, still wide-eyed. Damn those Turks. They were probably on their way to the surface. Have to stop them before they can link up with the other Turks topside! "Where does Dr. Hollander keep his materia?" The Vanessas looked at each other then back at Rhapsodos. "GET IT NOW!" The clones scattered. Rhapsodos stuck his hair-wrapped finger in his mouth and sucked on it again. The headache receded. He opened his PHS. "Argento. About the Sephiroth clone I ordered you to kill? Capture it instead!"
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Reno lifted the finely spaced mesh grate over his head and took one quick peek out, then another. Other than he was at one of those cement wells, all he could see were muzzle flashes of guns in every direction. "Damn. Looks like we're right in the middle of a battlefield, yo." He looked over his shoulder at his partner. "What do you think?"
Rude looked behind him at Vanessa-7. "Seven, take a look and see if you can tell where we are. Just don't stay up there very long."
"Okay. I think I know, but I'll see." Vanessa-7 squeezed past Rude then Reno. Suddenly the sound of a ricocheting bullet filled the shaft, and Vanessa-7 dropped to the floor with a cry.
"Seven!" Rude rushed to the clone then stopped. Vanessa-7 was curled in a fetal position on the floor, her eyes wide, but seemingly unhurt. He gathered her to his chest.
"I'm sorry. I was wrong. I missed. We're at the monument. We can't go there."
Rude put his face just inches from Vanessa-7's. "Why, Seven? Why can't we go there?"
"Because it's hers…" Vanessa-7 whispered. She cringed, tears welled in her eyes, and she clung to Rude.
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Finally a ricochet caught Tseng's attention. Startled, he raised his head and examined their situation. From every direction, more clones were entering the fight. While he had good fighters, they only had so much materia and ammunition to go around. They were surrounded and would be overwhelmed before too much longer. He tapped twice on his communicator. "Everyone, converge on point Alpha!" While Tseng hated to call it a retreat, it certainly was a regrouping. He put a hand under Elena's elbow and half-carried her toward the convergence point. They needed to hold out a little longer…
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"You know, this really is like the old days!" Verdot shouted to his friend, Vincent Valentine. The two were moving cautiously, methodically, toward Alpha—kneeling back-to-back, Verdot firing pistols in each hand, Vincent shooting Cerberus in his right, both picking targets at a distance, and covering each other while they alternately reloaded. After several minutes at a position, the pair would break and run another forty or fifty feet further before resuming their back-to-back firing routine.
"Which old days?" Vincent opened Cerberus and dumped out spent bullet casings.
"Why, don't you remember Madame Elizabeth's wedding?!" Despite the desperation of the situation, Verdot's voice held a smile in it.
Verdot felt Vincent's shoulders jerk—his friend had almost laughed. "You have to bring that up now?!" He added more bullets to Cerberus.
Verdot sighted down the barrel of his right-hand pistol and fired a round into an approaching grunt. "Of course. Though how those bank robbers got into the church, I suppose we'll never know!"
Vincent raised Cerberus and fired the triple barrels into a party of grunts coming from his right. "Well, I wasn't about to let Fingers have her garter! Guess he thought he needed help?!"
Verdot flicked the switch to eject a spent magazine then slammed a fresh magazine into one of his automatics. "You never did get along with Fingers!"
"And you did?!"
"Not at all." Verdot fired off single bullets at five individual targets in a row, much like a shooting gallery. "How do you feel about a switch to machine guns?"
"…"
Even through the din, Verdot heard his friend's silence. "Oh yeah… Ready to move?" Vincent nodded. "On three. One… Two… Three!"
As the pair jumped to their feet and began their move to their next position, Vincent's head came up as if in response to a scent. Chaos had mentally kicked him—it's that way, over there. Yes, it is. Vincent elbowed his friend, jerked his head indicating a change of direction, and began dodging bullets and firing at grunts in his new path.
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"Seven! Come on. It's okay. We've got to go…" Reno reached up to push the grate away from the well and climbed out. "Come on, partner! Pass Tess up!"
"Right," Rude called back. He looked at the nearly hysterical clone in his arms then spoke gently to her. "Come on, Seven, we really have to go. This is our chance to get out of New Banora. No matter where we are, we have to go. You'll be safe with us."
Vanessa-7 gazed into Rude's eyes, and Rude's breath caught in his throat. Vanessa-7 shook her head slightly, then leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. "Okay." Rude nodded and rose, barely loosening his grip on the shaking clone.
"Here, help me with Tess."
Vanessa-7 looked down at the silver bag. "I'd better start opening it. She'll be awake soon."
"Oh, yeah."
Vanessa-7 turned off the circulating pump and opened a spout on the bag. Mako solution trickled onto the floor. She closed the spout and partially unsealed the bag.
"What's holding things up?" Reno called.
"Com-ming!" Rude passed one end of the bag up to Reno.
Suddenly an evil smile lit Reno's face. "Hey, you suppose Hollander's ever spent any time in a tube? Might be fitting to put him in the bag for a change… Say—don't they call that poetic justice, or something?" Rude raised an eyebrow. He hadn't known his friend even knew that phrase—much less what it meant. Reno climbed back in the well, refitted the grate, and helped exchange the bodies.
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There! Right over there! Vincent sprinted ahead and began clearing grunts from the area of one of the cement wells with bullets. Ahead of him a metallic grate lifted from the well, pushed upward by a cautious hand. Vincent knocked the grate flying with his clawed hand, let Cerberus drop to the well top, gripped the hand hard with his right, and jerked the hand's owner up hard to look him in the face. "RENO! Where's Tessa?" he snarled.
"Valentine! Good to see you too, yo! And Old Bossman! You too?!" Reno smiled one of his insolent smiles.
Verdot had taken cover behind the well. "Would you hurry up? Bad guys are coming our way!" Vincent also took cover.
Reno climbed out of the well then turned and took a now lab-coated and blanket-wrapped Tessa by the shoulders and pulled her out then laid her gently near Vincent's feet. Next he pulled a body encased in a silver bag up from the well. This bag he dropped head first onto the ground. Looking at Verdot, Reno pointed at the bag, raised his eyebrows, and smirked, "Hollander." Reno then reached a hand into the well and helped a woman in jeans climb out who then crouched near the bag, "Vanessa-7." Finally, Reno helped his partner out of the well.
Rude crouched near the cement structure and assessed their situation. Spotting grunts dead on the ground, he acquired three machine guns and tossed one to Reno and another to Vanessa-7. "Seven, take this and shoot at the clones."
"What?! Why?!" Vanessa-7 hadn't really stopped crying, and Rude's suggestion only seemed to make her more upset.
"Just do it, okay? We have to get away. You don't have to kill them, but shoot them in the legs, all right? Here's how you work this thing…" Rude pointed out the gun's trigger and sights.
Reno leaned to pick up the wet mess that was Tessa, but suddenly, Vincent's clawed hand cut into Reno's arm. "Oh yeah. Sorry." Vincent gently put the pregnant woman sideways over his shoulder holding her with his clawed hand, and Rude did the same with Hollander, only far less gently.
"Are we ready yet?!" Verdot looked around. The crowd of grunts surrounding them seemed to be getting thicker. They'd have to be lucky to make it back to the Turks.
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Argento impatiently snarled into her PHS. "Genesis, are you coming?!"
"I'm right here, baby." Argento jumped at the sound of Rhapsodos' voice directly behind her. She turned, smiled, and leaned toward her lover. Rhapsodos wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, pulled Argento tight against him, and kissed her hard.
"Um." Argento leaned back, then looked at Rhapsodos' chest with a start. "What happened to your outfit?"
Oops. Forgot to change. "Hmph. The Sephiroth clone got lucky. Have you taken care of it for me? Remember I want it alive."
"Haven't seen it, but we'll get it." She paused. "You ready?"
"Oh yeah. Let's get this mess cleaned up." Rhapsodos turned and waved an arm. "See? I've brought some back-up." Behind Rhapsodos stood monstrous versions of himself: clones with blue-green skin and triple wings arching upwards with claws at their tips and ax-like thumb spikes at their apexes, and spider-like arms growing directly out of their backs.
Argento smirked in approval. "G Regicides, 'king-killers.' Excellent."
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As they ran toward their comrades to the south, Vanessa-7 paused. The Banora monument stone was lying on its side on the ground. Where the stone had stood, a white-haired woman's body, encased in solid mako, was now revealed lying in the ground. Vanessa-7 screamed hysterically and ran full out.
Rude paused, "SEVEN!!" The escapees had paused in order for Vanessa-7 to catch up. As she got to them, Rude grabbed her by the waist to stop her. It was then that the group realized they were completely surrounded. Grunts mainly armed with machine guns and a few swords hemmed them in on all sides.
"You've really made a mess of Grandmother's orchards. You'll need to clean this up." A voice came from behind them—the direction of the monument. Reno and Rude recognized that voice. Angeal Hewley…
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Tseng slammed the butt of his machine gun hard against the ground to seat the magazine—his last. He still had a handgun with several magazines of ammunition, but that wouldn't last long, not against these numbers. At point Alpha, the situation was deteriorating rapidly. He'd lost a number of Turks, many friends. Dr. Caperton and the medic had been working hard, but the regular healing materia supplies were nearly exhausted, and only he and the medics had mastered healing materia in their group. It couldn't keep them all alive. Already they'd suffered a number of casualties. He glanced at Elena, who was lying prone on the ground and firing steadily into their attackers. Tears streamed down her face. Her sister, Jayna, was dead. A bullet had entered Jayna's brain through an eye and killed her instantly. Then Richard, Jayna's partner, had been killed while attempting to rescue Jayna, not knowing she was already gone. Many other Turks had met similar fates. Tseng didn't even know what had happened to his boss, nor to his former boss for that matter. Somewhere out there were Rufus Shinra and Verdot, Vincent Valentine, Reno and Rude, even Tessa Romera, all dead as far as he knew. Have to hold out a little longer. The phrase was becoming a mantra for Tseng…
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"Put your hands in the air, and set the bag and the woman on the ground, then back away."
Vincent heard the soft words, but he knew he couldn't, wouldn't, let go of Tessa. He'd felt her stirring over his shoulder. "… No…"
"Now!"
"No."
"'Now,' I said!" Hewley's voice was becoming rough with anger.
"He said 'no,' Angeal." A new voice had entered the discussion.
Angeal Hewley's head rose. "Sephiroth?!"