The Warrior

Chapter 17

It wasn't until after Tifa had secluded herself in her small apartment that she realized she was minus a lighter. After some debate she decided against blasting her waste basket with a fully upgraded Firaga – the spell was a bit unpredictable at times and definitely in the realm of overkill. As much as she'd cherish watching the Shinra building go up in glorious flames she didn't think it a good idea to start with her room. Someone might notice.

So her mission file was still in one pristine piece, glaring up at her from the counter top like a militant harpy. It didn't help that it was red. Why would anyone disguise top secret information in so obvious a color anyway? Why not make it vomit green? And without 'CLASSIFIED' advertised across the front.

Her eyes made a quick sweep of the room and settled on the ceiling. It was made up of panels that fit together over a metal framework, but there were no screws or bolts that she could see. So she climbed onto the counter, holding onto the cupboard for balance as she prodded the nearest panel with her hand. There was no give at first, but a well aimed punched popped it loose easily enough.

With an unnecessary glance around, as if someone was going to catch her, she snatched up her folder and stowed it in the ceiling. The panel fell back into the place, no trace of its secrets to be seen as she hopped down to the floor with a satisfied smile.

She was reaching for the door panel when a vibration in her pocket made her jump. Frowning, she slid a hand into her pocket and retrieved her phone, flipping it open. The screen blinked on and a message appeared.

Ah, Yuffie strikes backs. Of course she wasn't going to be reasonable - that wasn't int the Wutai princess's vocabulary.

Yo,

OMG you have to get me away from this guy - I'm startin' to talk like him! Next thing you know I'll be undulating around like a fricken weasel.

Tifa's left brow traveled towards her hairline. Weasel?

-Meet us in Sector 7 at the Seventh Heaven Bar, 3 o'clock sharp. And don't forget the goods!

Murphy

She sighed inwardly, stowing the phone with a quick glance around the room. There was nothing left to do here and so much to do today that she scarcely knew where to start. Smuggling Yuffie's bag of stolen materia was as good a place as any she supposed. There was no way the girl was going to cooperate on that front, so it was left to her to get things done. Again.

It was 11 in the morning, which gave her 4 hours by Yuffie's time frame. The problem being, how did one just slip out unnoticed with a sack full of suspiciously materia shaped lumps that everyone was looking for? Somebody was bound to notice.

A debilitating sigh rippled in the oppressive silence that the hallway provided as she stepped out. There was one person who could help her, but she was loathe to ask him. In fact, she thought it best if she avoid him altogether, but life seemed determined the thwart her at every turn.

Tifa punched the arrow for the elevator with more force than was necessary. It was too much to hope that Sephiroth would be anywhere in the vicinity of his office, but she would check. He must have living quarters somewhere in the building - not that she would be allowed anywhere near them. That was a little too personal, especially given the circumstances of their unique...relationship.

If she didn't find him, well, she'd just have to figure something else out.

The elevator didn't take half as long as it usually did, which at any other time would have been a welcome change. When the doors parted and Soldier the cat sat staring up at her with wide, beseeching eyes Tifa paused for only a second. She stepped around him with a bemused smile.

"How did you get in here?" She asked and leaned back against the wall.

Soldier meowed and stood, dragging the length of his body along her calves as he gazed up at her through smug, half lidded eyes. The tip of his tail flicked methodically as he peered up at her.

"On second thought, I probably don't want to know..." Tifa spread her hands regretfully, "I don't have anything for you."

The cat persisted however and with a grunt she finally relented, squatting to the floor to pass her hand over his back. He arched against her fingers and a soft rumble of pleasure began in his chest.

In no time the elevator had come to a stop at her destination and she stood with a parting pat on Soldier's head. To her dismay, he followed her out into the hall. She stopped and glared balefully down at his grinning, whiskered face.

"You can't come with me." Tifa told him flatly. "Sephiroth would make mittens out of you if you even came near his mice."

Soldier's half lidded eyes did nothing to appease her. They were a tad too pleased with themselves.

"That probably would make him go insane…" she muttered in afterthought and started down the hall. The white mitten cat bounded after her, his tail erect and curved slightly to the right as he streaked past. Tifa huffed in exasperation, watching as he disappeared around the corner. She followed at a more sedate pace, thankful that cats couldn't operate electronic doors. At least, not to her knowledge.

On second thought...she hop stepped into a jog to catch the rascal feline. It would be just her luck if he could. As she rounded the corner her fears were swiftly allayed and vigorously replaced by a stomach fluttering apprehension that had her skidding to a halt (translation; tripping).

Sephiroth was standing there squared to Soldier like they were about to face off with six shooters. The cat went to dive past him and was immediately apprehended by a boot in the chest, halting his advance. She could only imagine the affronted look on Soldier's face.

"Oh no you don't." He enunciated to the culprit and swiftly shut the door to his office behind him. His eyes met Tifa's sharply, poised to speak.

"I'm sorry, I – it wasn't my fault I swear." Tifa stammered, her brain a hopeless pile of mush, "He followed me."

Sephiroth grunted inelegantly with a sharp glance at the cat as he flounced past with a reproachful sniff, "Odd how the little heathen gets around so easily in this place."

Her face softened into something that was almost a smile and she came forward on the balls of her feet with hands clasped neatly behind her, "I need a favor."

"Oh?" What a beautiful sardonic arched brow he had.

Tifa chose to ogle the carpet as she spoke, shoulders unusually tense under his full attention. "A certain materia thief may have stowed her stash in someone's locker and now she'd like it back."

"Ah," The General lifted his head with a reproachful sigh, "I wondered when this might come back to haunt me."

"You knew?" She looked up in surprise.

Sephiroth shrugged lightly. "I suspected."

Tifa narrowed her gaze, sensing a lie somewhere therein, but his face revealed nothing. "So will you help?" She implored earnestly.

He chuckled, a despairing sound the way it burbled from his throat. He muttered almost too quietly for her to hear, "There's is little you could ask of me that I would not fall over myself to accomplish." His eyes would surely bore a hole into the wall the way he was staring at it.

Her cheeks flushed and she bit her lip as she made turned a quick 180, "I...ah...nevermind I think I can-"

"How do you feel about flying?"

She hesitated, glancing back, "Flying?"

"Flying." He repeated and he gazed down at her with a knowing smile that tripped the butterflies in her stomach all over again.

"I like it." Tifa answered slowly. "Why?"

Sephiroth leaned over her shoulder, his mouth a scant few inches from her ear, and said, "I'll show you."

A shiver ran down her spine. She was holding her breath as he straightened, her skin tingling. For a moment she just stared at him, stunned and very acutely terrified by the unwarranted sensations that he was causing to rear up inside her. She wasn't supposed to feel that way about him. It was wrong and it was stupid, and he really needed to stop doing that!

"Let us retrieve your baggage first." He stepped passed her with more elegance than any man should possess under any circumstances.

Tifa followed after him with her thoughts a jumbled mess and a tight knot of apprehension in her stomach.

"This was not what I had in mind." She enunciated loudly, a tremor threading its way into her voice as she took a step back, and another.

Sephiroth leveled her with an impatient scowl, his hand extended to her, "I will not drop you."

"That's not what I'm afraid of." Tifa hedged with an anxious glance over the edge of the balcony. He had to be out of his mind. "That's at least 1000 feet down!"

He lifted his hands in armistice, beseeching, "I swear to you, you will come out of this completely unscathed. As will I."

"There has to be an easier way than this." She insisted stubbornly and her eyes lingered on the rooftops far below. My, but did those buildings look so very far away. Her throat tightened a bit.

Sephiroth growled his impatience, "Then I will go without you."

"What?" Tifa hugged the materia bag possessively behind her as he reached for it. "You can't be serious. The fall would kill you!"

His hands clenched, as did his jaw. A hard glint came to his eyes and she paled, but there was no time to react. With a speed that defied the laws of physics he had gathered her into his arms and hurled them both out over the edge of the building with a powerful leap, spinning through the air.

If she hadn't been so terrified she was sure she would have thrown up all over his chest.

All sound died in her throat however as she scrambled to hold on to the only thing within reach, which was the lunatic that had thrown them both to their deaths. His grip tightened at her squirming and she buried her face in his neck with a whimper. She wasn't going to look. The air was ripping past them like a freight train, the ground would be coming up and she was going to die!

Without warning their descent slowed, like a draft was buffetting them away from the ground. Tifa dared to peek out of one eye, found herself clinging rather embarrassingly to Sephiroth's neck, and pulled away as far as circumstances would allow, which wasn't very. Her eyes summarily widened and she met his in silent amazement.

They were flying. She could feel a current of wind across her cheek, pulsing slow and steady, like a wing beat.

He wore a very self-satisfied smirk as he set them down on the roof of a nearby building, a residue of steel gray feathers fluttering down around them. She jumped out of his grasp and relished in the sensation of having something solid under foot once again, reconciling herself with the fact that she was no longer dying. Her heart had yet to cease beating itself into a seisure.

A stiff breeze threw her hair about wildly as she looked back at him, a chill settling in her bones that dimpled where her skin was bare, "How...?"

"A gift of my unique genetics." He answered, gazing out over the rooftops with a pensive frown. When he turned back to her it was with a question, "What did the Director want?"

Her eyes shifted away from his reflexively. "I can't tell you."

He reached out to touch her and she flinched away. His hand fell at his side, but he continued, "You were given an assignment. I will know what it is."

Tifa glared, "Yes. Four days from now you'll know." With that she turned her back to him, arms crossed over her chest as she breathed in shakily. "Take me down, please."

Sephiroth sighed inwardly with a forlorn glance at the back of her head. That had not worked so well. There were ways he could force the answer from her, but he was trying to foster better relations, not destroy what little they had to start with.

"Come then." He said and offered his hand again.

This time she only hesitated for a second before accepting it. He lifted her up and then they were in the air again, gliding to the ground by forces she could not begin to understand. Sephiroth seemed to command them with ease though – it was like he was bending the air to his will. Either that or he had an enormous pair of invisible wings somewhere.

As soon as they were on the ground he released her and stepped back, uncertainty flickering across his face. He looked away from her as he spoke, "You will protect Angeal like I asked?"

Tifa blinked and a tiny thread pulled in her chest, "Yes. It's already been taken care of." She paused, searching his face, "But you..."

"I will be fine." He said dismissively. His eyes shifted back to her, "Will you?"

She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, but her expression hardened in stubborn refusal to be coddled. "I'm not yours to be worried about, Sephiroth. If you remembered, you'd know that."

It was the first time she'd mentioned it to his face. She could tell it bothered him by the way he stiffened and broke eye contact, as if it hurt to look at her. "You could tell me." He suggested.

Tifa shook her head, "It wouldn't matter if I told you. You have to remember...otherwise I won't really know if-" Words failed her and she hugged herself, eyes burning.

"If what?"He looked at her plainly, waiting.

"If you really are different." She finished. "You have to be who you were then and make the choice again. Maybe...you'll choose differently this time."

At that she turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the abandoned alleyway. He watched her go with a wretched longing written all over his face and his heart stuck in his throat. He wished he could tell her that he would, but he didn't know if that was true.

Later that night...

Something was amiss. It curled beneath his skin, festering like an infection that continued to spread as the day wore on with her continuously in his thoughts. When the hour came and she was conspicuously absent, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that something was indeed very wrong.

The floor had given a shudder like the dying breath of some distant earthquake, interrupting his pacing. He stilled, frowning deeply at the odd occurrence. But he gave no more thought of the short spell that was surely the shifting of the earth's plates under foot. It was the top of the hour and everyone but the one person he wished to see was present and waiting for him to command them.

Sephiroth gazed at the assembled group, his jaw so tight he would no doubt feel pain the next morning. He could feel their expectant eyes shining from behind their visors. Some of them glanced around as if searching, but no one dared speak up.

Tifa was not here. It vexed him at first, which gradually grew into anger, and then emptiness. He split the teams up dispassionately, for without the presence of his star pupil the exercise meant nothing to him. Irrationally he kept careful watch on the door, expecting her to show and miserable because she had not.

As she lesson drew on he was beset with a feeling of helpless desperation unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't until the lesson was coming to its end that the nature of the foreign sensation finally registered with him; he was afraid.

He could not make sense of it at first, but the agitation was very real. Then someone in the room made a sound – a horrible, anguished sound – and everyone turned. The soldier in question held his phone in limp fingers as he sank to the floor with a friend who gripped his arm worriedly. When asked what was wrong he just shook his head and stared at that little screen with raw emotion leaking from his eyes. The others crowded around to read over his shoulder the message that had left him so quiet and one by one the room fell as silent as death.

"Speak." Sephiroth commanded in a hushed tone that brooked no argument.

One Soldier lifted his head to look at his Commander, a lump moving in his throat as he swallowed. "Sector 7 sir," he said quietly. "They dropped the plate on Sector 7."

"Jack's brother and sister live in Sector 7." Someone whispered.

"Is anyone still alive?" Asked another.

The shock was as such that only a few noticed the eery blankness that engulfed the General's face as he pivoted sharply on his heel and sprinted out the door.

Roughly 1 hour earlier...

Tifa was seated in a dimly lit corner of the 7th Heaven Bar with Vincent, Jesse, Yuffie and Chaka, hashing out the final plans for the day of the Presiden't public address. They'd been discussing it for the better part of 2 hours and still found themselves at an impasse.

"Someone has to get Angeal." Chaka maintained, "And we're the only ones with a reasonable shot of doing that without drawing attention to ourselves."

"We could do it the morning of, before the assault begins?" Yuffie suggested. "Leave him with the Docs and meet up with Vinnie here at the South passage entrance to Deepground once we've cut the power."

The Wutai princess ignored the baleful glance that the aforementioned 'Vinnie' bestowed upon her.

Tifa chewed her lip pensively. "The boundary on his chip might not allow him to go that far."

"It will let him out of the building." Chaka said. "It's not like they don't let him move through Midgar."

"I wouldn't do it any sooner than an hour before lock-down – less chance of detection." Jesse answered. "Shalui and me could rendezvous with you in the city somewhere an hour before. We'll take Angeal from there and you get into position. Once their power is out they can't pull the plug – not until it comes back on."

"What do you think?" Chaka's braids danced around his shoulders as he turned his head to the final prognosticator on the subject who, up till then, had not spoken. The red caped man in the darkest corner at the table with eyes that glittered made a frightening picture

Vincent inclined his head, "I see no problem with it."

"Alright! Let's do it!" Yuffie announced with a fist pump.

"What about you?" The blond girl balanced precariously on the rear legs of her chair, feet propped on the table as she looked at Tifa. "How are you going to get out once things start to heat up?"

The other woman tried to give a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "I'll be fine."

Jesse looked like she was about to object when a ruckus outside drew everyone's attention.

"What in the hell fire-" Chaka was on his feet and heading for the door when it burst open of its own accord, admitting one very disheveled looking Biggs. Behind him where three others sporting various gunshot wounds.

"Everybody to the maintenance stairs now!"

Jesse jumped to her feet in alarm, followed by the rest of the table, "What-"

Biggs grabbed her forcibly by the arm before she could finish and made for the door with a determination that took the starch out of everyone in the room. Everyone else followed in a rush of boots and silent exchanges of confused glances. Outside was utter chaos.

"What's going on?" Jesse demanded as they ran up ahead, pushing and shoving their way through a writhing mass of bodies moving in all directions.

"There gonna bomb the plate and drop it on Sector 7." One of the wounded answered quickly. "Barret is up there fighting them with some of our other forces, but we can't hold them!"

People were screaming, some were crying. They were all running with all that they could carry of their lives, or nothing at all. There was no time.

"We'll be hamburger helper if that thing blows." Chaka said with an ominous glance upwards.

"How much time do we have?" Tifa inquired with an anxious glance behind them.

"Not enough for talking!" Biggs snapped.

No one argued with that and they fell into stride, running for all their worth through the underground city. Gunfire peppered the air as they drew closer. When the maintenance stairs finally came into view they caught a glimpse of the fire fight above – the dead lay draped cross the railings of the maintenance stairs or broken in the dirt at its base. Flashes of light illuminated the plate above, punctuated by distant shouts and the distinct ratatat of Barret's gun arm.

"We need to get up there and help them." Biggs said and made for the stairs.

Jesse nodded and made to follow when she suddenly stopped rigid. She whirled around with a horrified gasp, "Marlene is still at the Bar."

"Forget her, we don't have time!" The man with the red bandana retorted.

Jesse hesitated with an anguished look between Biggs and the others who waited for her to decide.

"I'll get her." Tifa said firmly, without thinking.

"But-"

"Tifa!"

Her legs were moving before she even realized what she was doing, the voices of her friends drifting off behind her as she augmented the distance. It would take her another ten minutes to get back, winded as she was. She desperately hoped that the others could buy her enough time to get in and out.

If not...well then she hoped the 7th Heaven Basement was well-fortified.

The streets were empty at least so her path was unimpeded. Everyone had already fled or hid in their homes.

Tifa skidded around the corner to the Bar's front porch, skipping up the steps with two long strides. Her sides were heaving, sweat stinging in her eyes as she pushed through the door inside. It was empty by all appearances.

"Marlene!"

The girl appeared immediately from the doorway that opened up behind the bar, her doll securely in her grasp. "Where'd everybody go?"

Tifa felt a wild surge of relief and ran forward to pick her up. "We need to go sweetie."

She looked hesitant at first, but relented with a cautious nod and allowed herself to be hoisted into the older woman's arms. "Okay." She said, glancing around curiously.

If Tifa thought she was winded before it was nothing compared to toting Marlene at a sprint across Sector 7. She'd lost sensation in her legs and that fact that she was still moving was a miracle in itself. The number of people in a rush to escape had thinned considerably, but that was hardly a good sign. Sheer will and determination were all that fueled her body now.

When at last the boarder gate between Sector's 7 and 6 came into view Tifa allowed herself a small breath of relief. Then a distant sound like an explosion rippled the air and she inhaled sharply, making one last wild plunge for safety. As soon as she was some fifty fit within Sector 6 her legs gave out and she fell to her knees exhausted, catching herself and the girl with one hand in the dirt.

Marlene clung to her wide eyed and then a massive shock-wave flattened them both to the ground. Tifa groaned, a plume of dust rising from where her face lay breathing into the dirt. When she lifted her head there was a haze of dust settling around them and the gate behind them was a twisted mass of shredded metal.

"What happened!" The girl wailed as she gazed at what remained of Sector 7, "Daddy!"

Tifa slipped an arm around her waist just as she was gearing up to run and held her back, "Hey, it's okay Marlene. Your dad wasn't underneath the plate."

I hope. He was fighting above it, but that didn't fill her with much confidence. He could be just as dead up there as he would be down there.

And the others...Tifa breathed in slow and deep, letting it out in a steady flow. They were okay. They had to be okay. As she got to her feet, tugging Marelene up with her, a deep and unrelenting rage took hold of her. Rage at Shin-Ra and all they stood for, rage at herself for being involved with them, and rage at Sephiroth for not making things simple enough.

There was no telling how many were dead. Some had gotten out to be sure, but not all. Not all.

"Damn them all to the depths of hell." She muttered under her breath. "Come on Marelene," a little louder, "Let's go find the others."

With one lingering glance behind her at the wreckage, they set off through Sector 6. There were Avalanche hideouts throughout all the Sectors, but finding them was the problem. If Barret and the others had escaped they would be on the run though. She had to believe that someone would find her or vice versa.

There were people milling around everywhere. A crowd was gathering as Tifa lead Marlene away from the gate. She kept moving against the flow of people, threading her way around them until she found some space to breath. The further from the Sector 7 entrance they got the less people there were until finally a familiar face came running to greet them.

"Tifa!" It was Yuffie, and right at her heels was Chaka. "Oh my god, you're alive!"

She nodded breathlessly, drawing Marlene up beside her. The girl had her thumb firmly clamped in her mouth as she gawked up at the two with big, glossy eyes.

"Daddy?" Her voice was small and quavery.

Chaka grinned big, "He's fine kiddo. He's just fine."

Marlene's face cracked in a watery smile and she ran forward, wrapping her arms around his legs.

"Uh, there there." He patted her awkwardly on the head, glancing pointedly at Yuffie who was making cooing noises beside him. "Quit looking at me like that." He grumbled self-consciously and lifted the child up with a playful bounce. "Come on you, you're dad's sick with worry, hmm."

"You coming with?" Yuffie looked at Tifa.

"Sure." She answered breathlessly. "I'm not going back there." Everyone knew what she meant from the vitriol in her voice when she spat the word to the ground. She'd undoubtedly do something ill advised if she did.

They rendezvoused with Jesse and Biggs at the Sector 5 gate and made for the underground through a passage under a bistro. The owner waved cheerfully at them as they disappeared down the lift, watching from the door so that no one who wasn't supposed to be there saw them. Then they were in another passage descending through stone and dirt until they came to a large metal door.

It was chaos on the other side. But Barret was there and Tifa didn't think she'd ever seen a man so palpably relieved as he was when Marlene called out to him in a high pitched squeal of delight. This time there was no concern for appearances. Light glistened silver off the streaks that lined his face as he lifted her up in a massive bear hug, eyes squeezed shut.

Tifa felt an invisible weight lift off her shoulders and she smiled. Barret caught her eye from across the room and gave her a brisk nod. Then he turned and walked away, his daughter held high on his shoulders.

"Alright," Jesse whirled around with her hands on her hips. "We've got a shit load to do and not enough time to do it."

The rest of the night moved like a blur. People coming and going, messages being relayed, damage reports coming in through monitors, radios and cell phones - the place was a mad house. At some point during the night Tifa had fallen asleep on a cot in the hallway. When she awoke again it was midnight and she was fully alert. So was the rest of the base. No one but her had taken rest and for that she felt guilty as she entered their main operations room. Jesse was there at the big screen on their host computer working feverishly at something.

"Hey." Tifa said quietly and stopped off to the side of her chair. "Where are the others?" She meant Vincent, Yuffie and Chaka.

"The three musketeers are down in Sector 7 helping with the wreckage." She answered distractedly. "I'm working on data recover

Tifa hummed to herself, thoughtful as she gazed at the screen. There was a distant look in her eyes, but she said nothing of what she thought. What she needed was some coffee and maybe to go down to Sector 7 to lend a hand. Her heart constricted a little at the reminded of what had happened and she inhaled shakily.

"I think I'll go help look for survivors."

The other woman cast a warm brittle smile over her shoulder, "They'd be glad to have you." She murmured.

Three Days Later...

Her phone was off the hook with messages. She was officially MIA and not doing anything about it. From sun up to sun down, though they could scarcely tell between the two down here, she'd been digging out Sector 7. So far they'd found one survivor - a cat. The rest were just remains of the dead, and not much at made Tifa sick to her stomach, but she kept at it anyway because it was the only thing stopping her from storming Shin-Ra in a homicidal rampage and getting herself martyred. She no longer feared what Barret asked her to do. She found she couldn't wait to pull the trigger.

And she did, every night that she was down there until this very morning. She set up a shooting ground in Sector 4 and shot for 2 hours until her shoulder was too sore to endure the recoil. There was plenty of fodder skulking around in the shadows for her to practice on and the Sector 4 residents thanked her for it.

Now all she had to do was get back into Shin-Ra HQ and explain why she'd been missing. Sephiroth had tried calling her five times since that night, but she'd shut her phone off. Let him think she was dead – it served him right.

Inwardly Tifa recognized that it wasn't his fault and he probably didn't deserve that. At least, not recently. But she'd been too bitter and angry to care.

Now she was meeting her team in half an hour for briefing and he still didn't know if she was alive. She sighed and quickly tapped in a message. "I'm fine." It read, and sent it to him. Then she dressed into her uniform and made for Shin-Ra HQ.

To her infinite surprise, and equal relief, no one balked at her arrival. She suspected she had Sephiroth to thank for that – no one else could have covered for her absence, or would have. The others spared her but a glance. All attention was on the squad leader, a short, but stocky man with a square jaw jutting out from under his visor. His name was Carmine.

"There will be six of us in total placed in strategic points surrounding the area." He said and spread a map out on the table. The meeting was being held in his personal quarters, which she noted were three times the size of hers. "Here, here, and here. Two per position. One of you will be in charge of defense, and that means finding any snipers before they find the president. The other is looking for one of these people."

He laid down a series of mug shot photos, all but a few that Tifa recognized. Barret was one, Biggs, Wedge, Jesse, and even Vincent had gotten in there, though his involvement in Avalanche had only just started. There were three others she didn't know, but had seen at the base. One was labeled Shalui. "I don't need to tell you to shoot to kill if you see any one of these faces."

"No sir." The six echoed.

"You." He pointed at her. "You'll be partnered with Benty." He gestured to the skinny Soldier standing off to her left with a sullen lilt to his mouth. "I want you positioned on building #4, right here." His fingered stabbed at the map and he gave her a sharp, appraising look. "Understood? You can get there using the service ladders – just don't be seen."

"Yes sir." Tifa and Benty replied in unison.

"Good. You have two hours to get into position. The president's address will start at 1100. Keep your eyes peeled." After that Carmine dismissed them, shifting his attention to the other two teams.

Tifa and Benty left without a word to each other. He was not interested in conversation as they walked and that was fine by her. They went to their respective lockers to collect there things in silence. When her partner wasn't looking she sent a swift message to Cid with the coordinates to her location. Then they were on their way again. Benty took the maintenance stairs rather than the elevator so she followed. He probably knew the lay of the land better than she did anyway.

And he did. The building they were to be stationed on was ten stories tall with a huge spire jutting up from its roof. It was a garish thing with old gothic buttresses, gargoyles guarding its upper tower, and carved stone balconies at every window. It looked to be a hotel of sort, for the luxurious. They used the ladders in the back to climb up to the narrow walk that encurcled the upper spire. The thing was all sharp angles and dark foreboding.

"I'll take left." Benty said. "You got the President?"

Yes, yes I do. Tifa simply nodded and took up position on the right. A gargoyle stood coiled to strike between them, blocking her partner from view, but she could hear home opening his gun case. She did the same, her fingers having a wretched time of undoing the clasp, shaking as they were.

It was another hour and a half yet until anything happened, but knowing what she was about to do had her jumping at the wind whispering in her ear. And worse yet, she had no idea where the other two teams were going to be stationed. They might have her in their sights for all she knew.

She glanced around nervously and licked her lips. Her hands were sweating. Her rifle was set up on a tripod right on the corner of the building where another much smaller spire jutted up with sharp points so she was hidden from anyone to the right, but not from across the square.

This is it, she thought. Whatever happened today would ultimately decide the future of Avalanche and Shin-Ra, and quite possibly the world.

I'm fine.

Those words had done little to ease his mind since he'd received her message that morning. On the contrary, Sephiroth was going mad with furious rage as he stormed the HQ building in search of her. There wasn't time though and he had a sick feeling in his stomach that he knew exactly where she was.

The Sniper division had been dispatched this morning. He'd assured everyone, despite not knowing himself, that Fry was fine, and summarily ensured that no one would question her sudden arrival for duty. He told them he'd sent her out to look into the wreckage of Sector 7 incase there were survivors. He had no idea that she really had been down there doing just that.

It was something she would do though.

He'd looked everywhere for her - as much as could be allowed without drawing suspicion, and found nothing. He was relieved to know that she was alive, but the question remained just how long that would remain true. Although what he was going to do short of throwing himself into her path he didn't know. She might take it the wrong way, considering the President had just killed hundreds of people in an act of sheer brutality. He couldn't care less if the fat man lived or died, but he did care about what would happen to her if she were caught.

Assassinating the President, however vile he might be, was not conducive to a long and healthy life.

The last hour and a half passed at such a grueling pace that Tifa thought she might lose herself in a fit of hysterical panic, but she kept her nerves in check and waited. Waited and watched as the streets amassed with people far below. A platform had been erected where the President would stand, a mic and pedestal at its center. A fine cloth hung from the back of it with Shin-Ra's symbol embroidered in gold.

There were guards everywhere, both Soldiers and Turks. They were stationed all along the back side of the platform. A large fountain, which dominated the center of the town square, took up the space behind them. It was at least 50 feet in diameter. The statue of an angel rose up from its center spewing water from the horn at its mouth.

Tifa tried to make a show of looking for enemy snipers, but she knew that there were none. So she tried to find the other two teams instead. She'd succeeded in finding one, but the other eluded her still and it was almost time.

A low roar emanated from below when the President's limo came puttering into view. The crowd's cheer rose in octave as it came to a stop at the base of the platform. The rear doors opened and three figures stepped out.

The first was a woman in heels and a red dress, her blond hair pinned to her head neatly. After her came the President and last...last was the one person she really didn't want to see down there. It was his hair that she saw first and then came the sinking feeling in her stomach as the rest of him emerged. She shouldn't have been surprised, but she didn't want him to be there. Some stupid part of her feared what he might think of her after this.

Tifa swallowed hard and glanced at her watch. 5 minutes. Her hands were so clammy she could barely hold the rifle still. She blinked sweat out of her eyes and took a deep breath, glancing to her left at the gargoyle. Benty was over there somewhere.

Now or never, she thought. "Benty!" She whispered urgently.

Nothing.

Tifa ground her teeth and set her rifle down carefully, edging closer to his position. "Benty!" A little louder.

His head poked into view, "Yeah?"

"I've got a problem."

"What is it?" He asked with an edge of impatience.

"My rifle is jammed." She explained.

"Well fix it."

Tifa felt her hands clenched. "Would you just take a look at it?" She grumbled. "I've tried fixing it."

She heard something that sounded like a curse and then the creek of leather as he stood up. Quickly she lunged for the statue, pressing herself against it, and waited until he'd come around. He stopped almost immediately and started to turn in alarm when she caught him square in the face. Benty went down with a groan and she followed up quickly with a second punch.

The young man fell limp to the stone, blood dribbling down his chin. She pulled some thick rope from her bag and tied his hands behind his back before dragging him off to the side. By now her heart was pounding so fast she knew she'd never be able to hold the cross airs steady for more than a second.

Tifa stumbled to her knees back at her position, looking uneasily over her shoulder a the man she'd just knocked unconscious. If he came to...but there was no time. Her head turned sharply back to the proceedings below and it hit her with the force of a bullet that it was already happening. The President was at the pedestal glancing behind him uncertainly. Sephiroth was beside him and it felt like he was staring right up at her - he was looking for her! Tseng had his hand pressed to his ear and was speaking to someone via radio. Then the guards started to move.

She took aim. Her body was trembling so violently it was a wonder she didn't drop her rifle off the edge of the building. She took a breath, then another, long and sweet. She took aim again, concentrating with all her power and willing herself not to fail.

In her peripheral she saw him move in a blur of silver and black, but she was already squeezing the trigger. The rifle kicked with a concussive blast that seemed to shake the very buildings. She watched in detached fascination as the President fell. This far away she couldn't see the damage, but she knew she'd hit him and she was fairly certain it was fatal.

Her lips thinned grimly. That's when the second shot came.

Tifa cried out as her shoulder exploded in pain and she threw herself to the ground. With her good arm she hauled herself bodily across the stone towards the back of the building, her knees scraping painfully against the stone as she crawled. Through the blinding ache she could hear the distant thump thump thump of a chopper.

"Come on," She gritted her teeth and scrambled the last distance, throwing herself behind the tall spire of the building. The shot had come from the North and she was hiding on the South facing side. She waited, catching her breath with one hand clamped against the gunshot wound in her shoulder in a vain attempt to stem the bleeding.

When the chopper finally came into view she exhaled softly, shutting her eyes in a grimace. The blonde man with goggles at the controls and a cigarette between his teeth was dodging bullets. They were shooting at him. He was yelling at her with a sharp had gesture to get the fuck in, but she was going to have to jump and only one arm was working. Tifa swallowed hard as she gauged the distance, which shifted as the helicopter did, and she didn't like what she saw.

"Shit shit shit!" A sound emerged from the back of her throat like a battle cray and she launched forward, leaping of the edge. Her shins cracked hard against the edge of the fuselage where it opened up into the cabin, but she was able to get a hand on the indention in the floor where a seat usually attached.

"Holy fucking shit, kid, I've got a hole in my fuel tank!" Cid roared from the front. "I'm gonna have to land or we'll be crashing instead."

Tifa was too dizzy and in pain to comment. She held on for dear life and prayed that they came out alive because when he said 'land' he meant it in very loose terms. Really, it was a glorified crash. He mentioned something about auto-rotating, and then they were falling at a slightly less than out of control pace, but still fast enough to go splat at the bottom.

Then he pulled back and they were suspended in the air for a brief few seconds, before the helicopter settled to the ground with a thud. The landing gear collapsed beneath them, knocking the wind out of her as the floor came up to meet her, and then...nothing happened. It was all quiet and still, save for a creak of metal here and there.

She dragged herself out, fully aware in some distant part of her mind that if she didn't move now they were going to find her. Cid was already out of the cockpit. He gave her a hand down.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"Sorry?" He slapped her on the back and guffawed. "You just made my fucking day! Didn't think you had the guts for it, kid, but you're somethin' else, eh?"

A fraction of a second later he noticed the blood. His brow made a wurroed furrow, "You okay?"

Tifa brushed him off, "Yeah, I'll be fine. We should go."

So they ran and every where they ran people were closing in. "Fuck." Cid swore up ahead and took a sharp left, then skidded to a halt with another curse. It was a dead end.

They turned around and headed back, the throng of people just no reaching the intersection, only now there were guards, and here and there a blue suit. It was easier to pick them out as they were running and shoving people aside. Occasionally one would trip. Cid sprinted off down the next empty street and Tifa followed. She didn't dare look behind her, but waited for the next gunshot that might send her to the grave.

There were shots, but so far none had hit their mark.

The next corner they rounded landed them face to face with Sephiroth as he dropped to the ground in front of them, his sword raised. Cid backed up, one hand braced protectively against her. She gently pushed it aside and stepped forward.

Sephiroth sheathed his sword swiftly, "Follow me. Be quick."

Tifa didn't wait for an explanation. She did as she was told and hoped that Cid would do the same. Sephiroth hadn't helped her this far just so he could turn her in to the authorities. If anyone could get them out of this mess, he would.

Several turns later, a back alley, and they were on another street. This one was deserted. Here he stopped and turned to them. "There is a secret door in and out of Midgar. Take this." He handed them a card. "It will unlock it. Follow this street till it comes to the wall – there will be a service tunnel the drops down underneath the road through a manhole. Follow it and it will bring you to that door."

She accepted it wordlessly, her hands still shaking from adrenaline and fear. "What about you?"

His mouth opened to reply, but no sound emerged. Then he dropped like a stone, landing with a grunt on the pavement. He lifted a hand to his head just as an agonizing sound unlike anything she'd ever heard tore from his throat It made her insides squirm and her heart stop, and then she knew.

"No!" Tifa snarled and fell to the ground at his side. His eyes had rolled back into his head and his body convulsed once, twice, and third time before his eyes suddenly opened dead to the sky.

"Tifa, we've gotta fuckin go!" Cid was suddenly beside her, twitching anxiously as he gazed from where they'd come. He gripped her shoulder hard, "He's dead, kid."

Without a word she shoved the card at him, a smear of blood across the vinyl surface from her fingers. She didn't even look at him, but he eventually took the card. When he tried to take her by the arm she nearly broke his wrist. He got the message then and took off without her.

"You're not dying. Not yet." She emphasized sharply and place her hands over his sternum, fingers laced together and elbows locked.

Her mind settled into auto pilot. Thirty compressions, two breaths. She had no idea if it would work -she only knew what Zangan had taught her to do when magic was no longer applicable.

A minute passed, two and still nothing. The panic was inside her – she could feel it taking hold and spreading into her extremities with each second that passed where there was no response. His skin was still warm against her mouth, his body still warm under her hands, but there was nothing. Somewhere outside the realm of this reality someone was sobbing, but it couldn't be her.

Then she was angry. She was so angry she could kill him herself, again. Tifa bared her teeth in a growl and reared back, slamming her fist down on his chest with every bit of force she could muster. Her shoulder was throbbing, her blood was not only on her but him too - somewhere there was the thunder of approaching footsteps - and she didn't care.

She hit him again.

His eyes shot open. He gasped for air, coughing and immediately rolled over to vomit on the pavement.

Tifa blinked dazedly, one hand braced on the ground as she knelt. Her head felt fuzzy. She barely registered the feeling of hands as they wrenched at her arms, but she did feel the pain in her shoulder and that made her cry out. Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought she should fight, so she did.

The blow to the back of her head made short work of that.

Author's Note: Ummm, yeah, so that's the most bloated, rushed pile of dooky I've ever produced. It just came spewing out today, so there it is. I'm...not really happy with it, but I HAD to get through it and this was the only way I knew how. I wasn't going to drag this bit of the story on any further. I need progress damn it! It's only been...uh...I have no idea how long, but it's bad. It's really bad. My days as an author are numbered I fear...

My mom isn't here to proof read this so...I'm sorry about the epic grammatical failure. I have been suitably chastised. Thank you everybody, you're the best.

For your viewing pleasure: http :/ / faerlyte . deviantart . com /#/ d4axw46

Just remove the spaces. It isn't strictly fanart for the story, just a little sketch of Tifa.