CHAPTER THREE: BREEZY 24/6 (FRIDAY)
"Do you see him Cait?"
Cait blinked her dry eyes, glancing from one screen to the next, searching for any signs of the president's man on the inside, "would help if I knew who I was looking for," she grumbled, as she continued her search.
It was the worst cliché in the book- a van parked just outside the presidential complex, pre-fitted with all the technology Cait would need to find the target.
They had chosen to wait a day before attempting an extraction. The group had settled into Deling City's smallest motel just after nightfall, sitting around a small coffee table as they discussed potential plans of action. They had little information on the target's location, and even less information of who he or she was. It was Selphie who brought it up, asking only one question.
"What are we meant to do?"
There was a long moment of silence as they considered the answer to the little brunette's question, Irvine finding the answer.
"We ask Laguna- it's his inside man, he's the one who should be able to help."
Squall had contacted the president the following morning after a collective rough night's sleep. To be a discreet as possible they had all chosen to sleep in one double room, Cait crammed into a double bed with Zell and Irvine, who both liked to spread out as far as they could, covering Cait in arms and legs. The five of them had consumed more than their share of coffee that morning as they prepared for the extraction.
"You'll know him when you see him," Laguna had said when Squall had posed the question. His answer had caused the young commander to sigh and pinch his scarred nose bridge as he hung up.
"Just keep looking for…" Squall trailed off, leaning towards one of the monitors, "it can't be... Almasy?"
There was no mistaking the mass of pixels on the screen. Seifer Almasy was over six feet tall, bulky with muscles hunched in fatigue. Cait heard Squall pull out a phone to contact the others, but found her eyes glued to the image, a phantom pain threatening to overwhelm her. A hand drifted up, tracing a line between her breasts as the figure on the screen opened his mouth in what she could only assume was a cry of pain.
"We have to move fast," Squall's voice brought Cait back to herself, dark eyes turning to the commander, "if we leave him there they'll kill him." Their eyes met for a moment and Squall's narrowed, "whatever's going through your head, now's not the time. He's the mission, the rest we'll deal with later," a pause, "Cait?"
She sighed, defeated, "What do you need me to do?"
In theory, it was a simple extraction. . Cait and Irvine were the least recognizable, the sharpshooter having lost his trademark locks, so Squall had decided they would go in to locate the spy and sneak him out the employee exit, where Selphie would be waiting with the van.
Getting in was the easy part; President Rhodes was visiting the desert prison, and the majority of his security team was with him. They bypassed the half a dozen guards and reached the storage room Seifer was being held in, Irvine hunched as he picked the lock.
Cait didn't know what she was going to do when she came face to face with Seifer- there was so much the others didn't know, couldn't know yet, not until she was sure. Sure of the kind of person he was, and sure that she could reconcile that with the person he had been.
For the briefest moment it was pity for his current situation- captured and beaten bloody by one or more of the president's goons. Irvine woke him up, untying the ropes from his wrists as he moaned.
The sound of his voice shot Cait right back to that day- the bullets, the screams, the blood—
She shook her head, trying to shake the memory as Irvine helped the blonde to his feet, glancing at Cait with inquisitive eyes. "You okay?" he mumbled, turning towards the open door. Seifer groaned a protest, and dread settled in Cait's stomach. "Get the pistol from my rib," Irvine directed, repeating himself when Cait stared at him. "In case we get seen," he explained as she pulled the gun from the leather holster. "Caitie?" Irvine's blue eyes narrowed, sensing uneasiness in his comrade.
Cait was resolute, "later Irvine, let's get out of here."
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The sun was rising as the van pulled up to the bridge connecting Galbadia and Esthar. Selphie pulled the van over and surveyed the damage, shaking her head at the blood that had dried down Cait's face. Only a fraction of it was hers, drawn from just above her eyebrow.
The path out of the building they kept Seifer in had been blocked by 2 solid guards. One she managed to take out with Irvine's tranquilizer pistol, but the second moved before she could get the shot off, head butting her brow with all his strength. Her retaliation had been quick, despite the blood gushing into her eye and down her cheek and the second guard was thrown to the ground, groaning as Cait moved back to Irvine and Seifer, taking the blonde's arm and draping it over her shoulders, focusing on the job at hand
There had been a wound down Seifer's side they hadn't found at first, and once they had dumped him in the back of the van with Zell, Cait had realized that her face and neck were sticky with fresh blood.
Irvine followed the dragoon as she wandered some 50 meters away from the vehicles and the others, pulling her bloodstained shirt over her head. He watched the way her shoulders tensed as she sensed someone behind her, and he reassured her as she made to turn around.
"What do you want Irvine?" she sat in the grass, drawing her knees up to her chest, allowing the early morning sun to warm her back. The sharpshooter say next to her, folding his arms atop his knees and resting his cheek against them, watching Cait with curious blue eyes.
"You hesitated last night," it wasn't a question, and Cait shrugged at him, "I won't say anything to Squall, I just wanna know why."
"Seifer tried to kill me- during the war," Irvine blinked, sitting up as he watched Cait slump, "damn near succeeded too."
~Flashback~
It had come on quicker than anyone had ever suspected. Squall had announced the attack, and Cait had enough time to throw on a white shirt and grab her spear before she raced to the front gate to prepare the guard. By the time she got there, hell had already descended; more than a thousand of Galbadia's Soldier's swarmed upon the area, killing and being killed in the same manner.
Children killing grown men. Men killing children; it was twisted, and at that moment, Cait had wondered why she ever decided to become a SeeD.
Isaac was there too, throwing his Chakram around like he was killing monsters, downing men and stowing their weapons for later use. They fought guarding each other's back, his icy presence a welcome comfort against her back, like they had done since the day they met. Cait had made her first kill at fourteen, cutting a man's femoral artery with her first spear- a spear she later threw into the ocean for its crimes. But now, with her red spear in her hand, killing felt to commonplace, so simple.
Too simple. Xu called her and Isaac over after the second wave of attack, along with another boy of similar age, Jason Myers. A wiry redhead wielding a stolen Galbadia sword and a contemptuous look etched into his pale face.
"You have been sanctioned for a black op." Xu explained, head held high despite the deep cut down her cheek, "Commander Leonhart has given us permission to send a group in to take down Seifer Almasy."
The rebel; the cause of this hell. The reason fifteen year olds were coated in blood of others. Cait knew him from her time spent wiring various rooms for them; she dealt with the dopey brute more than the blonde, but they had interacted on several occasions, and not once did she think him capable of any of this- arrogant, yes, but never borderline psychotic. "Are you sure?" Isaac asked, tilting his head to one side, causing his copper hair to fall into his bright eyes. Those eyes turned to Cait as Xu turned, bestowing her with one of his silent smiles.
"The Commander's orders are still orders," she replied, voice stern, "there isn't much time; Holloway?" Isaac stood to attention, blood from his weapons dripping onto his black boots, "you are to lead this operation; Myers will plant the appropriate plastic explosives, to which White will detonate remotely. DON'T let Almasy see you, otherwise you can consider yourself dead." The trio nodded, and Cait reached into the front pocket of her camo pants, muscles relaxing as she touched the small tablet sitting there. "Take a moment to gather the required equipment, and then move out!"
Sneaking on to Galbadia's mobile base was easier than Cait had ever expected. One of the causeways led to the dormitories, which for the most part were deserted. Cait snuck into one of the unlocked rooms and downloaded a map to her computer, sighing at the only obstacle; a giant drop between the track and baseball field to the tennis courts; she could take it without thought, but neither man had any training in how to land without snapping their ankles. So they ventured into open space, hoping against hope their presence remained unknown.
"It's too quiet," Isaac muttered, weapons drawn but hanging in his fingers. In all the fighting, it seemed that his white singlet had remained spatter free. Cait looked him up and down, wanting nothing more than to reach out for his hand and squeeze it, loosening the tense muscles in her arms and making her feel safe in this foreign territory.
The shot rang out after the bullet had ripped through the air, penetrating his chest, just below his right collarbone. Isaac fell to bended knee, crying out once in rage and pain the air turning cold, as Cait's fingers fell numb, his icy eyes scanning the area, moments before the second bullet pierced his right eye, causing blood to our out over his shirt and the rubber ground. "Get him out of range!" Cait yelled at Jason, waiting the split second as the man hoisted Isaac over his shoulder before she caught sight of movement, launching her spear in his direction. She didn't' wait to see if the blow stuck before she headed towards the dugout, pulling Isaac's head was into her lap, his blood coated hand covering his mutilated eye. When Cait realized that he had ceased to draw breath, everything condensed into three feeling; Sadness, overwhelming, anger, detaching her from the situation, and clarity, for she knew what she had to do next.
"Myers," she began, voice choked, but fierce, "you need to get back to base- you can make it out of here if you move fast."
"But… what about you?" she turned to face him, face dashed with blood and a lone tear, and he knew; she was going to find a nice place to die. "I can't let you!"
"Of course you can," she replied, "someone needs to get back; it may as well be you. I'm gonna find the scum that did this before I go out, don't you worry about that." They nodded in unison, and with a less than formal salute, Jason peeked his head out from the dugout, and sprinted away. Cait turned back to her best friend's corpse, collapsing into a fit of sobs so sharp her chest began to ache. "I swear it; I'm going to kill Seifer Almasy with my own two hands." A fresh sob came over her, and her eyes misted, "I hate to leave you here… but you'd want it like this, wouldn't you?" As if he were sleeping, she lifted his head off her legs, setting him against the ground. Before turning to leave, she leant down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then his cold, still lips, unresponsive. Her comrade, her best friend, murdered, dead in a war. A senseless, spiteful war, with no gain, only loss.
In the end, the soldiers had found Cait before she found Seifer. She leapt from the two story ledge, landing like she always had in training, with almost no pain; she suspected that was because of the adrenaline, or the idea that her life wouldn't be lasting much longer. A Lieutenant shot her at close range with his assault rifle, and brought her to the Commanding officer himself.
Cait awoke, groggy and sticky. Blood from Isaac and the soldier's she had killed setting in her clothes and on her face. Damp liquid flowed from the wound in her right arm, the pain crippling any escape options. The pain that had vanished with adrenaline had returned with a vengeance, sending signals to her brain, wanting her to scream out loud.
Which she seemed to do; the Galbadian commander turned on booted heel, taking only three strides to reach his destination; the gleaming black blade of his Gunblade. Another three and he was at Cait's side, talking for almost a minute before lashing out, steel-capped toe connecting with the edge of Cait's jaw; she felt the bone shift and she hissed through her teeth, resisting the urge to cry out again. A bare hand reached out, taking slender throat in its grasp before lifting her up with a strength she didn't think possible. Or was it possible because she had given up fighting?
"Scream, you little bitch!" he hissed, shadows falling away from his face to reveal a puckered scar and green eyes, tinged with malice, and flecked with gold.
Ultimecia's puppet; Seifer Almasy. She spat his name, wetting his face with traces of her blood, and he snarled, throwing her roughly against the concrete wall like she was doll. Pain lashed her body, threatening blackness again, but Cait refused to give in, blinking away the dark spots as he approached, coat billowing out behind him. Cait expected another death grip but found herself pressed against the cool edge of Hyperion's blade. He kicked with the strength to break a rib and wind her; Cait coughed, gulping in air as she avoided emitting any sounds. "don't ever speak my name!" he bellowed, laughing as the blade came down, cutting through Cait's black shirt, and the first three layers of skin, from collar bone to the underside of her right breast. She screamed that time, feeling the blood pour from her at an alarming rate. "That's all you had to do," he told her, like he would a small child, shaking his blonde head, "but you've seen my face- you can't be allowed to live." The blade returned to her throat, and she sensed the end rushing her bones in a sickening and terrifying way.
"Sir!?" Seifer turned, blade drifting away, giving Cait the required second to cast a 'Curaga' upon herself, repairing the damaged blood vessels, but not the laceration itself. As soon as she moved it would begin to bleed again, but that was the furthest thing from her mind. Knife in hand she moved, rising and twisting the weapon, cutting Seifer from elbow to shoulder, forcing more blood onto her clothes; she scoffed, placing a kick into the back of his knees.
"It's your turn to scream, bitch," she shot, waiting one second too long before running; he rose, turned and shot twice with a concealed pistol, once high, and once low. A second bullet joined the first in her arm, and the second staked its claim in her leg.
"Stay down, tiny."
~End Flashback~
"If it hadn't been for John, I would have been dead that day," Cait finished her story, glancing up at the blue sky, trying to forget the fear she had seen in her mentor's eyes, blinking away the tears that followed the memory, "I've dealt with Isaac's death the best I can, but I'll never forget what Seifer did to me- sorceress influence or not."
Irvine sighed, contemplating the pain in his friends face before forming his answer. "I've known Seifer for a long time, and I'm not gonna lie to you- he was an asshole of a kid. Picked on everyone, but I don't believe he's capable of the things that happened during the war- not without some kind of psychological manipulation. Asshole? Yes, cold blooded killer? No way in hell." Cait sighed
"How do you know that Irvine?" she dropped the bloody shirt she had been ringing in her hands and reached for the clean black singlet she had brought with her to change into, "who's to say that violent tendency didn't stick after the sorceress died?" How could she make Irvine understand the fear clawing at her insides? She had ignored it for the job last night, but in the morning sunshine she could see the scar on her chest as if it were fresh. Sections of it were hidden by her black sports bra, but she could feel it burning the way it used to when it was healing 2 years ago.
It was too much to contemplate. In two swift movements, Cait threw on the singlet and stood, breaking into a jog as she approached the van, shrugging Zell's curious hand away as she rounded the back of the vehicle where Seifer was conscious, albeit bruised and battered. She was careful to reign in her emotions as she asked the others to take a walk. "Cait?" Squall asked, folding his arms.
"Seifer and I have a few things to catch up on," she answered, glaring down at the big man, who in return looked bemused. They watched the others head towards Irvine and Cait wheeled back around on Seifer, dark eyes narrowed. "You think everyone's going to be as accepting as they are? That just because you say you've changed that it means anything? Good people died because of you- hell, I almost died because of you! Do you think that just goes away?!"
"Of course not."
Cait had expected some degree of uncertainty from the bruised blonde. He glared at her through one un-swollen green eye, "I don't need the third degree from you tiny. I hear it in my head every damn day I wake up."
"At least you get to wake up."
He could feel the grief radiating from the brunette stranger in front of him in airy waves. Something about her face awakened a fuzzy memory in the recesses of his mind, but when he went to reach for it, it slipped away. The girl's face changed and for a moment he wondered if she was going to hit him.
To his, and her, surprise she sat down next to Seifer and offered her hand. "My names Cait," she said, waiting for the blonde to shake her hand. He did with hesitation, shocked by the strength in her little grip. "I know almost nothing about you, other than your part in the war. I'm willing to learn if you're willing to let me. But for now I plan to escort you to Esthar, and once we get there I'll make up my mind about you."
"Deal."
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Several hours later after a makeshift breakfast the group were on the bridge, driving at a steady pace towards fisherman's horizon. Cait had made sure to sit as far away from Seifer as possible, riding up front next to Zell, who had been ordered to drive.
"He's had the most sleep," Squall spat as he settled himself in the back of the van with Seifer, folding his arms as he attempted to get comfortable.
The tattooed blonde glanced over at Cait, who was sitting as still as she could, given the speed they were travelling, eyes closed against the world. "Caitie?" he noticed the slightest twitch of an eyebrow, but she didn't open her eyes as she answered his next question.
"Mediating, Zell," she replied, focusing on the bumps under her seat as they moved, "Jack taught me how to centre myself when things are too much to cope with."
It had been Jack's greatest achievement when it came to Cait. As a young student she was quick to anger, bristling when she felt hard down by. To everyone's surprise, Jack was patient with Cait, never shouting, just shooting her a hard glare and leading her to the training centre. After they had trained themselves to exhaustion they would sit in silence, back to back with their eyes closed, allowing the quiet to soak through their senses and bring them back to a calm centre.
Cait's current centre was disturbed by the car around her veering to the right as Zell cursed. Her eyes shot open, taking in the pack of Adamantoise blocking their path.
"Just great," she mumbled. Fight mode was like a light switch to Cait, it erased all fatigue from her body as she reached under the seat for Obelisk, surging from the car to join the fray.
Squall and Irvine had leapt from the car, taking on an Adamantoise of their own, Squall taking a well-timed swipe at the leader of the back with Lionheart just as Irvine shot at the same with his sleek silver shotgun. Cait winced as the balls of her feet made contact with the cold metal of the train tracks, readying her spear in her hands. As she stood next to Zell, who was bouncing from foot to foot in preparation, a fire grew in her brown eyes that mean pain for the next thing that attacked her.
"Are your feet gonna be okay?" Selphie asked, glancing at what she could see of Cait's feet from under the loose black pants as they both readied an attack. Cait nodded, pushing the sleeves of her white jumper past her elbows before taking a running leap into the air, using the split second she stayed level to choose which one to target. She began her descent, choosing the furthest in the back as her prey, landing on its back as the tip of her spear slid under the protective shell, listening to it as it howled in pain as muscle and bone tore apart. The creature lost its footing, hitting the ground with a hard, dull thump as Cait hopped from its back, landing on her left foot. She grimaced, watching Zell who was waiting for Irvine to take the kill shot of the runt he had knocked unconscious. The red-head did, blowing the smoke Exeter exuded away from the barrel. Selphie knocked one in the face with her flail, cackling as it fell backwards, dead.
"Well that was simple enough," Squall said with a sigh, turning back towards the car where Seifer stood, weapon-less, unsure of what to do. "Don't sweat it Almasy, we've got it covered."
"You okay Caitie?" Cait turned towards Selphie, plastering a bright smile on her face as she nodded once, making her way to the door on the other side.
"I'm not movin' from here!" she announced, sitting in Squall's former seat, next to which her laptop was open. She shut it and watched Selphie climb into the front seat, next to Irvine who was taking over driving duty. He had wanted to talk to Zell some more on the rest of their trip, but resigned himself to silence, slamming his own door. Zell threw his friend a sympathetic look. The red-head wound down the window, and let his hand drop out the side, where Zell grasped it for a moment before climbing over the seats to the back next to Seifer, who was staring out the window.
Squall stood alone outside the van for a few moments in quiet thought; his ever-moving mind went to Esthar, on the other end of the train tracks, and the mission they would face there; the protection of Laguna. He knew instinctively that it was just a job; take the hit, do the deed and leave. But his heart, (and against his own will, his mind too) knew that the president was going to use this time to bond, to get to know the man. To follow him around for days on end asking stupid questions… he sighed, for the first time since taking the mission, unsure if he could fulfil it.
"Hey Leonhart, get in already, we haven't got all day!" Squall blinked twice, coming out of his thoughts. With a quick sigh and a shake of his head he walked over to the van and took the seat next to Cait, who was massaging her left foot. The brunette pulled the door closed and Irvine started the van again.
"Are you all right?" Squall asked Cait as Zell leant over the seat, taking the red laptop in both hands. He grinned at the pair before disappearing again, humming without tune.
"I'm dandy, as always," Cait replied, grimacing as she tweaked a particularly sensitive spot. Squall reached over, pulling the completely bare, swollen foot into his lap, kicking off his own shoes as he began to massage the appendage, "what are you—"
"What do you think?" he replied, not looking away from his work. Cait shrugged at him, smirking as she noticed the way the edge of his tongue poked from under his top lip as he concentrated, "problem?" he looked at her, grey eyes unreadable. Cait shook her head and he nodded, "didn't think so." He turned his attention back to Cait's foot and she looked over at Zell, who was staring at his friend, fascinated. Her eyes turned towards Seifer, who sat mute, mouth open in surprise.
Cait knew the others had always seen Squall as a hard bastard. None of them could figure out the cause of his changes since the neo-sorceress war. The common belief was that Rinoa had drawn him from his shell, taught him to be human, but Cait saw him pull further and further into himself when she was around. Zell guessed one day that because Cait was so much like him, the pair had forged a bond and SHE had taught Squall to interact with the others. They argued and fought as rivals did, and because Squall had a new adversary, he spent more time away from his office and Rinoa- that was why he had instated his blonde friend as the headmistress; so that they could both have some free time. But as he began to spend it with his friends more than his knight's charge, Rinoa often flew into irrational fits of rage that almost always culminated in a clash of blows. Cait always told them that she could handle the sorceress herself, that she didn't need three extra sets of hands holding her back. Squall had told her she was being just as childish as Rinoa, and that she needed to learn some humility. She watched him at work for several moments, wondering if he would have been doing this if they hadn't met when they did.
"Hey lookit!" Irvine called over the upbeat song on the radio, "I can see Esthar!"
"Woo-hoo!" Selphie cried, "So how much longer?" Cait turned her attention away from their target to look around at her, calculating it in her head.
"A little while yet," she decided, hissing as Squall hit a tender spot, for which he apologized , "s'okay," she told him as she watched Selphie reach over the chair for a black CD case, "what are you doing Selphie?" she asked, watching her grin, "oh good God, no!"