DECEMBER 10TH, [ ν ] - εγλ 0007

SHINRA HQ, EXECUTIVE BOARDROOM

It had been a slow dawn over Midgar, the sun now competing not only with the constant Mako blaze of the remaining reactors but with the glow from fires that still burned across Sector One. People crawled like ants in the rubble, some dragging others clear to safer ground, some more interested in whatever valuables could be found hidden amongst the fallen stone and steel- together they slaved, saviours and scavengers, alike in the too-still ruins, watched over by the constant, towering presence of Shinra.

It was never a small matter when the entire executive board gathered. Never a trade dispute or a customer complaint; it had to be big. And what could be bigger than a successful attack on a Mako reactor? Lazard had not been surprised when the summons arrived on his desk as the sun rose; if anything, he'd been expecting it far sooner

That said, the night before had been chaos. Panic spreads quickly, faster than fire or flood water; it had felt like a matter of moments before the entire complex had fallen into its grip. Countless contradictory reports had rushed in, stories of battles in the streets, claims from infantrymen that they had apprehended those responsible, further claims that they had escaped; there was only one certainty, painting the distant morning sky with pale orange urgency.

At the head of the long boardroom sat President Shinra, his characteristic disgruntlement given way to apoplectic rage. "How could this happen," he yelled, punctuating each word with a thump of his fist on the dark polished table. "How could this happen!?"

Lazard watched as all eyes of the executive committee turned to him. They would probably be an impressive sight to anyone outside it; Scarlet, resplendent in her usual red dress; Heidegger, in his full military uniform; Reeve Tuesti, in spotless suit and tie; and of course President Shinra himself, moustache bristling. Lazard held back his sneer of contempt. A psychopath, an idiot and an incompetent who hadn't run his company properly for years. Leaders of the free world. Tuesti was the only decent man amongst them, and even he was at best ineffectual. Of course they'd blame Lazard for the disaster. He cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"SOLDIER operatives were supposed to be stationed at the reactor, were they not? This failure falls upon you, Lazard!"

"It would appear that the insurgents… Overpowered my men."

Overpowered? Butchered more like. Lazard tried not to think of the gory remains that had been recovered and returned to SOLDIER headquarters, recognizable only by the uniform he still wore, his comrade nowhere to be found. It had not been easy, informing Angeal that another of his protégé had passed on, let alone gathering the paperwork to send word to the family.

"Overpowered? GYA HAA HAA HAA!" Heidegger bawled with laughter. "That's what you get for throwing money at that freak show instead of training real men!"

Lazard looked at the ridiculous man, his cool gaze taking in the chest full of medals that had almost certainly not been earned. "I believe it was your 'real men' that were defeated first, Heidegger."

"Nonetheless, the point stands that security was primarily your responsibility, Lazard." Scarlet. Lazard had always hated her, her narcissism and ruthlessness constantly on display. It was almost impressive, how she could be so unlikable and yet had climbed so high.

Less impressive considering the personal qualities of her colleagues, he thought, smiling inwardly. "Since the war, Reactor Security has traditionally been a position held by Third Class operatives. An exercise in discipline." He turned to the president. "As I recall, it was yourself that suggested such a use of our assets, sir."

Third Class. Little more than recruits really. Give them a taste of responsibility before they could be assigned to more useful tasks. Not that there'd been many of those since Nibelheim.

Before the president could respond the doors of the boardroom swung open. Framed in the doorway stood Tseng, dark suit pristine, eyes more intense than ever. Without a word he took the seat next to Lazard. The president, perhaps sensing his argument against Lazard weakening, turned his attention to the young man. "Aha! Just in time. Perhaps you'd like to explain how your men failed to discover this potential security breach, Tseng?"

Tseng remained inscrutable. "Our forces are a little thin on the ground, sir. It has proven difficult to maintain a strong intelligence presence with only three active members."

Lazard shifted awkwardly. It had been bad enough sharing his office with the terrifying fellow; to be sat next to him was even more acutely uncomfortable.

"That's not good enough," yelled President Shinra, oblivious to Lazard's discomfort. "All I hear are excuses! Poor ones at that!"

Suddenly Reeve stood, frustration clear on his face. "Why is our focus on assigning blame amongst ourselves? This is clearly the work of AVALANCHE!"

The room fell silent at the mention of that name. AVALANCHE. Perhaps the company's only true threat once Wutai had started falling. For the first time a flicker of something moved across Tseng's face. Anger? Sadness? To Lazard it seemed something deeper, some darker mixture of the two. "The AVALANCHE incursion has been resolved," Tseng said, his eyes fixed on Reeve. "The group responsible for this attack are not affiliated with them."

Reeve visibly recoiled from the intense glare. Lazard was almost sorry for the man. The mess that had been the conclusion of that particular conflict had quickly become a subject considered thoroughly off-limits.

Reeve shook himself, recovering a little. "Regardless, surely our first priority has to be the citizens affected by the blast. Even beyond the catastrophic loss of life I have received reports that some parts of Sector One are still without power and basic supplies."

"What do you suggest?"

"I propose the establishment of a relief fund, a source of immediate financial aid to those most in need."

Lazard nodded. This was why Tuesti was worth keeping around. It was refreshing to have someone else on the committee who actually cared about something other than the company. He raised his hand. "I second this proposal." Reeve caught his eye and nodded, too small for anyone else to notice.

At first the room remained silent. Then Scarlet began to giggle, the Heidegger, then all out laughter. Even the president was smiling beneath his moustache. Reeve sat, his face reddening. President Shinra waved his suggestion aside. "Thank you for the amusing diversion, Mister Tuesti, but for now we still must deal with the matter at hand. How do we go about locating those responsible for this attack and how do we go about ensuring no such breach occurs ever again?"

At last. Lazard had been waiting for this. He cleared his throat. "Sir. I wish to immediately place my First Class operatives into active duty, despatching them to patrol known trouble spots here in the city. We've dealt with extremists before, we can do so again." He looked straight at the president, clasping his gloved hands behind his back. "As you say, this failure was the responsibility of men under my command and I cannot help but feel that such a failure was the result of inexperience. Committing my First Class division will prevent this and, I hope, demonstrate my commitment to making amends."

There. He had him. Lazard could see it in the man's piggy little eyes. Just the right blend of self-effacement and confidence, with a hint of appealing to his arrogance; all it took to turn him to Lazard's side. Come on, he thought, say it. Say yes and there'll be nothing the others can do about it. A whole new enemy to face- he needed this. SOLDIER needed this.

As if sensing Lazard's intentions Tseng shook his head. "Your men have experience of war," he said, no trace of emotion in his voice. "What you're talking about is investigative work. It requires subtlety."

Anger flashed through Lazard as the president turned to the pale man. How dare he? What right did Tseng have to take this from him?

If the president had noticed Lazard's anger he gave no sign, his interest now fully on Tseng. "Oh? How should we then proceed?"

"SOLDIER is a combat unit. Have Director Lazard place the First Class operatives he wishes to make use of in security positions at the remaining reactors here in the city. My department will take on the task of locating this terrorist group and any sympathisers they may have acquired."

Before Lazard could protest the president was already nodding. "Very well. I will leave the matter of uncovering these maniacs to your division. SOLDIER will reinforce its security presence at the Mako reactors."

This was too much. Lazard slammed his hands onto the table. "So my best men are to be glorified watchdogs-"

"Your best men are to do their damn job," yelled President Shinra, cutting him off. "Defend the Mako reactors with their lives!"

"The Turks are finished! What do you think three men will uncover that my entire force cannot?!"

"My decision is final." He caught Lazard's eye. "Do not question me further." Lazard almost spoke, but he could see there was nothing to be done.

Reeve had consoled him after the meeting, the others already having returned to their various offices and stations. "It's a shame. I really thought we might be able to sway them into doing something decent this time."

"I think you may be working for the wrong company if decency is something you're pushing for."

"Perhaps." He straightened his suit, turning to leave. "Good luck."

Lazard nodded him away, sighing to himself. Time to go and tell Angeal and Genesis the news.

From his monitoring station in the General Affairs Deparment, Tseng watched Tuesti and Deusericus depart, his features unreadable as ever. He knew what the others thought of him. Uncaring spy-master. Company dog. Killer. It didn't matter. He had a job to do and he and his men did it well; after everything that had happened he could hold to that at least.

If he'd had the resources he would place a detail on Lazard at least; with the man's clear agenda and hidden captive the director had a few too many secrets of late for Tseng's liking. Talking of hidden captives…

Tseng pulled out a smart-looking flip phone and pressed a button. A quick-dial tone; then a voice crackling into life. "Sup?"

"I'm cancelling the termination order on that captive."

"What? Why?"

"First an apparent Nibelheim survivor appears out of nowhere. Now a reactor is destroyed. Both supposedly impossible. I'm starting to think there's a chance the two might be connected. I want the boy kept alive until we can be certain that that is not the case."

"I dunno, seems weak to me. You sure it ain't just a coincidence?"

Tseng gazed at a separate monitor. He watched as a blonde boy, bruised and bloodied, slept against the far wall of his spartan cell. For just a moment, Tseng almost pitied him. Fate, it seemed, was cruel. He watched on as in the darkness of his cell, the boy tossed and turned, lost in fitful dreams of half-remembered faces and almost-forgotten sunrises. "I don't believe in coincidences, Reno."