Chapter 40
Never Got to Hold Him
"Why do you keep nagging me? Shiva! You're relentless!"
"I have a bad feeling, is all." Cloud scratched his head, wishing he could make her see his point of view.
"A bad feeling?" Tifa huffed as she fluffed the pillows on the couch a third time. "Well, we have good feelings about this, Cloud." He blanched; her words said like an accusation. "Vincent's not in this relationship with thoughtless words or actions. You know him better than that."
"Yeah, he's my friend." Her defense of Vincent stung, as though Cloud knew nothing about the former Turk. He pursed his lips. "But you're my friend, too. The only family I've got left."
"That's not true, Cloud. We're all family. Barret, the kids, Yuffie, Reeve, Cid, and—"
"You know what I mean." He sighed and stood close. Cloud hesitated at the question in her eyes, then wrapped his arms around her. "Our Nibelheim is gone. Our parents are gone. And—our entire childhood—Vincent was in the mansion we played in on dares." He withdrew to look at her face. "He was there, Tifa. The entire time. Not aging—sleeping. Don't you ever think about what that means? He can't age."
"I already know that!"
"And he transforms! He can't always control that, Tifa." Cloud struggled to keep his voice from rising.
"I'm well aware, Cloud. We all are. But maybe you didn't know. Vincent is trying to solve that."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," she said, slapping her thigh. "He's taking treatments from Dr. Simon. And Dr. Berry is helping to solve Vincent's many medical—" Tifa shook her head. "I don't know. Medical—challenges?"
More treatments? Had Vincent lost his mind? Cloud thought Vincent was helping the WRO researchers, not receiving it himself. "He wouldn't agree to that."
"Well, I guess you don't know him as well as you thought."
Cloud felt a flare of anger as she moved to the stairs. "And I guess he's doing this for you?"
Tifa faced him, slowly, her hand on the banister, eyes cold and narrowed. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"No," Cloud answered. But even to him, his reply sounded like a lie. "It just—the timing of this—"
"For once since we woke him, Vincent is happy, Cloud." He almost retreated when she advanced a step. "For. Once!"
Cloud watched her descend the stairs, speechless. Though she was sincere, and he suspected Vincent's feelings were true—the warning signs still rang in Cloud's ears, loud and incessant. He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her to the kitchen. He watched her clean the immaculate counters and stove, scrubbing the surfaces with punishing strength.
"So…Vincent sleeps here now?"
He thought she might fling her wet cloth at him. But she tossed it onto the counter, softening her eyes. "Is that a problem?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe?" They'd never discussed overnight guests.
"Cloud, this is the first really—really—good thing that's happened to either of us in a long time," she said, a plea in her voice. "I want your support. But—" She crossed the kitchen and grabbed his arms before pulling him into a hug. "If I can't have that—I want your silence."
He pulled away, knowing the hurt was evident in his eyes.
"I'm going to get ready. I want to check on Molly." She mounted the stairs, and he heard the shower spray a minute later.
Vincent didn't argue when Elena insisted on driving. The western continent's landscape whooshed by as she sped along the highway while Vincent clenched his belly at the barely perceptible thrum beneath his chest. He opened a water bottle. This will have to do. The tea tasted less awful when warmed, but the bottles were convenient.
He made no effort to hide his actions from Elena and rifled through a pocket sewn into the inside of his blazer, fishing out his tea bags. He twisted the bottle cap before forcing the tea into the bottle. Elena turned her head and watched the liquid bleed into a deep shade of coffee brown.
"So, what's with the weird tea?" Elena asked, and Vincent gave the bottle a shake, a blatant show for the report he knew she would give to Tseng.
The mountain road curved, and as the car swerved, Vincent braced himself against the door to remain upright. The little Turk drove like a frenzied bat. He brought the bottle to his lips as the road smoothed and said, "Gives me superpowers," then took a drink.
His chauffeur rolled her eyes, smiling. "By the way, I called ahead and warned them we were coming." Elena sounded proud of herself, like her covert operation was advancing according to her clever plan.
"And are we welcome guests or unwanted inquisitors?"
"Tch," she scoffed, giving him a side-eye. "I can be quite charming, you know. But I did tell an innocent lie. So—I'm a nurse, and you're my patient." She pointedly looked at Vincent when she said 'patient,' and he fought against a snicker.
"That's clever," his voice rattled. "But she won't believe you."
Elena scowled at him. "Why not?" She adjusted the sleeves of her light blue sweater, wearing the un-Turk-like knit over khaki slacks for the excursion, her disguise.
Vincent only chuckled and then drained his tea bottle.
They seemed to arrive at naptime. Dr. Madeline Curie dozed under a kitten-patterned quilt, slumping in a wheelchair with an oxygen mask affixed to her face. Her caretaker, a graying woman with a permanent glower, bent down and spoke gently. "Aunt Maddy?" Madeline's eyes popped open, darting around the room. "Your guests are here."
"Oh." Curie coughed and fumbled with her mask to yank it from her face. She pressed a tissue to her mouth until the fit subsided, then struggled to sit higher. Her niece helped and tucked the quilt tighter around her legs. "Thank you, Hina—cough—cough. Will you get my—journals?"
Hina straightened with a glare toward Vincent. "But Aunt Maddy!"
Madeline waved. "Yes, yes. I know. Just go—get it."
The woman grumbled as she left to do her aunt's bidding.
"So, it is—you." Madeline panted between the words and replaced the mask on her face, regarding the two behind steely blue eyes. Still sharp as ever.
"And you're still running—with the Turks?" The old doctor pointed her gnarled finger at Elena.
Vincent smirked and pressed a single finger to the center of his palm. "It's good to see you again, Madeline."
"An old woman—like me?" Her voice rasped with wheezes and congestion, terminal lung cancer, as ShinRa's files revealed. She chuckled, eyes sweeping from his head to toe and searching his face. "Just as I—suspected. Hojo—that bastard—made you ageless. Aha, haha—cough—ha—cough." Madeline labored in her chair, tiredly leaning forward and shifting her frail body, seeking a comfortable position. She batted Elena away as the Turk reached out to help. "Oh, leave me—alone. Meddlesome Turk—cough—cough—"
Vincent wanted to laugh at Elena's chagrined expression. She had been so assured of her disguise.
Madeline grunted and huffed as she looked at Vincent again. "I haven't seen you," she wheezed, chest heaving as she adjusted the plastic over her nose. "Since before—Sephiroth."
No joy is the same as holding a newborn baby. Tifa wished it was something Liza could have experienced. But life was so unfair to so many. Vincent had revealed years ago that Lucrecia hadn't—
Sebastian hiccupped, and Tifa giggled at the noise. "Aww, little guy! So adorable."
"Don't get any ideas," Molly said from under her covers. "That one is mine!" Molly's sudden sniffle broke Tifa from her baby cooing.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, I'm just tryin to give you a minute of peace," Molly replied. "Didn't—sniff—want to interrupt this happy moment."
"Don't be silly. We can talk if you need."
"My Sebastian sleeps like his daddy already." Molly smiled through her tears.
The maternity ward echoed with an eerie silence. Even the babies cried softly. As if in answer to her thoughts, Sebastian yawned and dozed into a contented slumber.
"I wish things coulda been different," Molly whimpered. She leaned her head against the pillow and watched her baby with adoring, tear-filled eyes. "Pictured me an' Liza sittin on the porch—sniffle—our kids getting dirty in the yard. But she never even got to see—sniffle—" The tears streamed harder down her cheeks. Molly squeezed her eyes shut as a sob wracked her body.
"We'll have to pull together to help Luxiere with that baby," Molly said, wiping her nose. "Don't imagine he knows nothin about carin' for 'em. Where is—do you think Luxiere took him home?"
Tifa's heart broke at Molly's worry. Her friend should be joyous, basking in the glow of motherhood and receiving visitors to gush over her beauty and the baby's sweetness.
"Why don't I go check, hmm?" Tifa wanted nothing more than to erase the melancholic frown tugging at Molly's face.
"Ok—sniff." Molly snuggled Sebastian close as Tifa laid him gently in her arms.
"I'll be back," Tifa kissed Molly's cheek before tiptoeing from the room.
Vincent frowned at Elena when the Turk rudely cleared her throat. Curie woke with a start and looked between them, the third time she'd fallen asleep. But he was in no hurry. Vincent had always liked the good doctor, even if she was part of the Nibelheim crew.
"You know?" Madeline continued as if she hadn't just been snoring into her oxygen mask, holding up a shaking finger. "Hojo never—gasp—even let her hold him." She shook her head, sorrow stooping her shoulders. "Such a cruel—gasp—thing to do to a mother. Even a—misguided one."
The door opened, and Hina returned with a box of old journals. She set them on the coffee table and knelt before the wheelchair. "Here's your files, Aunt Maddy."
The old woman patted her niece's hand. "Thank you, dear."
Hina glowered over her shoulder to where Vincent sat in the rocking chair, then turned her stink eye at Elena. "Are you sure about this, Aunt Maddy? Giving it back to them after—"
"That's enough, Hina! I—gasp—won't hear—gasp—another word!" Curie panted desperately, and Vincent thought she might run out of air right then. Hina helped her replace her mask, and Curie clutched it over her mouth, chest heaving to catch her breath. She continued with a gentler tone through the plastic muzzle, "Truth be told, it will—gasp—be good to be—rid of it.
"The research—goes back to little—Genesis." Her eyes began to water, and she glanced between Elena and Vincent. "His mother—his biological mother—gasp—never got to hold—him either."
Madeline's lip trembled. "After she died—gasp—Lucrecia—and Gillian—figured out how to—gasp—ease their pregnancies.
"I never—got over that girl's—gasp—death." Madeline struggled to pull in air behind the mask. "They made—her so—many—promises. And she—trusted. Turned over—her body—and child." She removed her mask again to wipe her eyes, then replaced it and gave Vincent a tremulous smile.
"I've held onto these —gasp— records for so long," Curie said through wheezing breaths. She inhaled deeply before continuing, "I broke my oath—gasp—so long—ago to smuggle it away from Hojo." She fixed Vincent with a stare that said more than her words.
"I'll see to it your risk wasn't in vain," he said, voice rattling with emotion.
The elderly woman laughed with a rasping cough. "We both know—my work won't do much good. I just didn't want—him to have it." She trained a knobby finger at Vincent. "But I think you know—gasp—whose will."
"Who?" Elena asked.
Vincent drummed his middle finger into his palm furiously as Elena watched him like a hawk. He angled his hands between his knees.
"You know something," Curie added, and Elena met her eyes as the woman pointed. "I don't—mind the Turks, never did. But I do—gasp—wonder why so many of you—gasp—are interested in me nowadays."
Elena clutched at her sweater, fingering the knitted braids as if hoping she could disappear in the yarn.
"Turks visited you before?" Vincent asked.
The woman held Elena's gaze as she continued, "The redhead—gasp—stopped by a few months ago. To be honest, she looked a little ill; such a tiny thing she was."
"What did she want?" Vincent asked, looking at the journals in Curie's box.
"The doctor looks tired, Vinc—" Elena clamped her mouth shut when he met her eyes.
"She wanted—to know the—gasp—locations of every Mako—spring in Wutai exhibiting visible corruptions," Curie said with a hoarse chuckle. "I guess—this was because of—gasp—the white paper I'd written—just before we were assigned—to Nibelheim. Who knew—gasp—it would garner so much—attention all these years later. But the paper—laid out how to spot—which locations were prime—gasp—pools for the corruptions to gather."
Vincent stared Elena down, and she looked away, withering under his suspicion.
"Is she the one—gasp—who told you where to find me?" Curie asked.
Vincent continued to look at Elena, his anger spiking that the Turks had talked to Curie before Cissnei's rescue. She raised her gaze to Curie's like a scolded child and slowly nodded.
"Steve Berry had your number," Vincent said, finally looking back to the doctor.
A wide smile brightened Curie's face. "That bastard. First time—gasp—a Turk shows up, and he squeals—like a pig. I told his wife he'd—gasp—buckle fast. But I always did like her better."
"He's been a great help with the current research, Madeline."
"Oh, I'm sure he has, Vincent. Guilt—follows every man and gets—gasp—closer with the grave."
Vincent rose. It was finally time to leave. Elena thanked Curie for her time and started to walk toward the door as Vincent bent to pick up the journals. Curie reached out and grabbed Vincent's arm, pulling him toward her as much as her feeble strength allowed.
"I'm so—sorry, Vincent," she said and removed the mask again. Curie rubbed at her cheeks as tears started to fall. "I've lived—long enough with shame—devoted my life to caring—gasp—for poor children. My penance—"
Her body shuddered with a sob. Vincent lowered himself to the coffee table and waited for her to continue. She breathed into the mask with three deep inhales before looking back at him.
"I'm not sure—that anything I've—gasp—done since will ever—be enough to atone for what we did—gasp—what we allowed—to happen. Even those of us who disagreed—gasp—we didn't do enough."
Vincent covered Curie's hands with his own. "I doubt there was anything else you could've done, Madeline. They were murderers." He patted her hand and rose again with the box of her journals in his arms.
As they walked through the door, Curie called out once more. "He's hiding near Modeoheim—gasp—if I had to guess." Curie had turned her wheelchair and was watching them leave. "I know who you're looking for—gasp—not that I think he can—or will—help you with those pregnancies."
Was there anything this woman didn't know?
"He likes snow. He had property in the mountains—gasp—when the snow still fell in Midgar. He knows where the corrupt pools are located—gasp—"
"Thank you, Dr. Curie," Elena said and stepped out onto the porch.
Curie called out to Vincent again as he followed. "And—you know where—gasp—she is."
Tifa found Cissnei's room empty, so she searched the corridors until she came upon Kunsel and his girlfriend cooing through a window at the babies in the nursery.
"Where do you think they took him?" Cissnei asked.
"Took who?" Tifa asked as she crept up behind Kunsel and Cissnei.
"Oh, hey, Tifa," Cissnei said. "We were just wondering where Liza's baby is." She gave Kunsel a sad look. "I don't think she's with Luxiere—given what happened."
"Lux is still in restraints," Kunsel said.
"That's—terrible," Tifa replied. "But I wonder about the baby, too."
A door opened down the hall, and Tifa turned as a man approached, another SOLDIER. "Not many babies are there," he said.
"Hey, Dan." Kunsel presented his hand and clapped the newcomer on his shoulder. "How's Rosa?"
Rosa. From the party. Tifa saw the fear in Dan's eyes and couldn't blame him as his eyes watered.
"Hanging in there," he replied, voice hitching before he cleared his throat.
The moment felt intense with all the worries pulsing off Dan until Cissnei abruptly turned and walked away. "I'm gonna lie down."
Tifa wondered if she should follow but wanted to find information about Liza's baby. Maybe it wasn't her business. She didn't care, though.
Dr. Bernard exited an exam room and smiled at her. "Hi, folks. You checking on Molly?" he asked Tifa.
"Hiya, Carlos," she said, simpering and sweet. "Um…we were wondering. Where is Liza's baby? Did her family take him home?"
Carlos began to open his mouth but didn't speak for a moment, only looking over his shoulder. "I—uh—am not at liberty—"
Tifa put a hand on his forearm and squeezed gently. "I just wanted to ensure the baby had a place to stay and someone to look after him." A thought sprang into her mind, one that she didn't hesitate to share. "I'll—gladly look after him if the WRO needs a safe home for him. Just let me know if I can help. Maybe I'll talk to Reeve." She gave him a dazzling smile, and he seemed to relax.
"He's being looked after in a special nursery, but I'll put your name in," Carlos said with an appreciative nod.
"Did you get Rosa's tests back?" Dan asked. "Is she—gonna be ok?"
Carlos sighed. "Let's talk about this privately, Dan."
After they were out of earshot, Kunsel pressed his head against the nursery viewing window. "That can't be good."
"You don't know that," Tifa said, rubbing Kunsel's back. "I'm going to see what else I can find out about the baby."
She wandered the halls and corridors, searching for any familiar face willing to take her to the baby. But Tifa had no luck. The nurses she ran into wouldn't divulge and reiterated their 'family only' policy. Frustrated, she took out her phone.
Tifa—Hey, Reeve. I'm at the hospital. Do you have time to catch up today?"
She headed down to the cafeteria, determined to settle in since Reeve's busy schedule could delay his response for hours. Tifa ordered a coffee and claimed a seat overlooking the interior gardens. The notification buzzed a minute later.
Reeve—You up for a late lunch? I'm famished!
A thankful breath passed her lips as she typed her reply.
Elena drove them to an alleged SOLDIER hideout, now abandoned and subject to investigation. Vincent wasn't surprised there was nothing of value in the cave, only discarded tents, broken folding chairs, and trash. The garbage seemed like remnants of transient campers more than an elite unit of enhanced warriors.
Vincent toed an empty potion flask, several thrown at the edge of a Mako pool toward the back of the cave. He faced Elena as she collected trash into plastic bags. She was careful to avoid standing too near the swirling pool.
"How many more of these caves did SOLDIERs claim?" he asked.
She straightened from a crouch after bagging a worn boot. "There's three, counting this one."
"Send me the coordinates," he said, heading down a darkened tunnel.
"But—it's done here. Should we go back?" she yelled, her voice echoing through the cave. "Our flight leaves tonight!"
He spoke softly though his words reverberated eerily through the tunnels. "I'll meet you there." Vincent smiled at the short scream that answered him. Better to keep the youngest Turk a little fearful. He continued through the cave and searched for anything the Turks might have missed—or kept secret.
More rubbish and worn-out ShinRa uniforms—surplus found at cheap merchant stalls—were all that Vincent found in the cave. He emerged into the daylight, and his phone buzzed with notifications. One linked a map with the hideouts. He'd have to move quickly if he wanted to search each before returning to Edge.
Stretching his neck, he took to the skies with a powerful leap. He bounded over trees and hilltops, keeping to shadows as much as the sunlight allowed, covering the distance quickly and easily to the first location hidden in a grotto in the northern ridge. But the Turks had already long cleared the scraps, their footprints and thorough cleanup erasing any evidence the SOLDIERs dumped.
He left disappointed with the lack of clues, only one left to inspect. Vincent leaped again, this time into the night air. The last location was much farther away but closer to the city. With any luck, there'd be something left behind that proved valuable or could be used as leverage against ShinRa if the need ever arose.
The landscape drifted by in a blur as Vincent pushed himself, running with extreme speed. City lights flickered as he neared Wutai proper. The mountain just to the west was his destination. Vincent spotted a familiar car winding up the mountainside. Elena. He covered the distance quickly in a graceful leap, soaring over trees before landing on an outcropping at the road's curve. Elena's car veered around the bend, and Vincent hopped silently onto the roof.
The car dipped into a small valley on a dirt road that shot off the main highway. One of those paths that could easily be missed if the driver didn't know it was there. The car stopped beside a beat-up truck. Elena jumped out and sprinted toward the shadowed mountainside. Vincent circled close and watched her enter a cave, waiting a few minutes before following inside.
Two voices echoed from the cavern. He came upon them minutes later, only silhouettes, lit from behind by a small creek bed of trickling water glowing bright green with pure Mako.
"Is this all that's left?" Elena asked.
Elena's companion nodded, lifting a small crate into a child's wagon. "Yeah, this is the last," she said, patting her treasure. "The rest is already in the truck."
The taller woman wore a hazmat suit, the sort worn by scientists who worked near Mako for hours daily. She unzipped the top and rolled it over her hips. "I'll take inventory and write it up when I get back."
"Sounds good," Elena said as she helped drag another box to the wagon. "Let's get this back to base. Will you need help analyzing?"
The woman shook her head. "I'm good, baby sister. Nearly as good as the boss's scientists by now." She rose and stretched. "Ugh, my back aches from all this crouching and lifting. How was Cissnei doing this before?"
"Who knows."
"I swear I thought she had Mako poisoning for a couple of months. Who could've guessed she was pregnant!"
Elena snorted. "And her boyfriend had no idea what she was up to here, either. Still doesn't."
"Well, what kind of Turk would she be if he did? Huh?" The woman nudged Elena. "Ok, that's it. Let's get out of here. These caves give me the creeps."
Night was in full swing, and the Turks shined their flashlights on the ground at their feet. Vincent crept out of the cave and darted toward Elena's vehicle out of their line of sight. It took him a moment to unlock the back door.
Elena climbed into her car and started the engine. She trailed her colleague as they drove back to the city. Vincent sat in the darkness in the back seat, his chauffeur unaware of her passenger as she sang to herself and turned up the radio. He struggled to fight the laughter rolling in his chest. How loud would she scream if she spied his preternatural eyes lit up by a passing vehicle?
Soon enough, they entered the city limits. Vincent shrank into his seat when they passed flashing streetlights and neon signs hanging over businesses. But Elena remained oblivious to her stowaway, and he remained a silent passenger, watching her beat the steering wheel in time with the music and bob her head in a rhythmic cadence. They finally turned into the alley of a building housing a café and travel agency. Elena parked her car beside the other Turk's truck.
Vincent had to time his exit precisely. As Elena reached for the door latch, he did the same. She opened her door, and he opened his—thankful only as an afterthought that there was no child lock. And when she climbed out, he rolled down onto the concrete, shutting his door softly as she slammed hers closed.
Once the Turks carried their boxes and wagon up the back steps and inside the building, Vincent climbed to the roof next door and waited. The women didn't remain long and exited without their treasures before rounding to the main street. Elena glanced over her shoulder before joining her friend inside the coffee shop tucked into the building. Vincent doubted many people bought coffee from the little café.
They sipped on iced coffee and talked for the better part of an hour before they left the café and stood on the sidewalk. They embraced again, and Elena returned to her car and peeled out.
He glanced around the corner and watched the other Turk re-enter the shop next door. She emerged again several minutes later, nothing in her hands though she couldn't have been there long enough to accomplish anything. He waited as she locked the door and then drove her truck in the opposite direction that Elena had left.
Vincent jumped from the roof and peered at the sign over the doors.
Gaia Getaways—he laughed through his nose. More like an old Turk hideout they were forced to reduce to minimal staffing. All due to Kunsel's little romance.
Not that Vincent didn't understand. His sympathy ran deep. The promise of love was a powerful force. As powerful as a lack of it, too.
Vincent removed a lock pick from his gauntlet. He wasn't keen on leaving a mess, especially when he wanted to remain undetected. Inside was a small office, sparsely furnished. They'd removed their high-tech equipment and any files that had been onsite that gave away their cover. The office was stripped to the basics. Old computers and phones sitting atop desks littered with pencil holders and staplers. On the walls hung travel posters and brochures filled a dusty rack leaning against the front window.
The floors gave nothing away, either. No evidence of a door under loose carpet or a hidden bunker beneath a desk. He put a hand to the wall and leaned in, his ear skimming the wood as he listened for anything unusual.
And there it was. A faint whistle.
He dragged his hands across the boards and pressed until a wooden panel sunk in slightly. Bingo.
A small hidden door slid open. He peered inside, noticing small floor lights illuminating the way up a narrow staircase. Vincent avoided the stairs altogether with a single leap to the top. A sliding door eased open, revealing a small, covert laboratory.
A tiny dormer window, frosted for security, allowed in just enough moonlight for his enhanced eyes. Maps lined the walls, and three desks sat in the center of the room, covered in lab equipment.
But he found no evidence of mutilated specimens or tortured creatures suffering in cold cages. The purpose seemed more benign. There were beakers and small jars filled with various glowing substances stored away in medical-grade refrigerators. Some contents obvious—Mako. Others questionable. He suspected—corrupted Lifestream deposits. But what would the Turks want with such waste?
Vincent turned and eyed the equipment on the desks. It was the sort only suitable for study. For comparisons. Nothing screamed experimentation. They were looking for something. Verifying their samples.
The room was otherwise empty. Clean of any damning reports or top-secret assets. He glanced back at the maps. Various points in the mountainsides had been marked. Caves—locations of Mako pools. Exposed Lifestream rivers. One was situated not too far from the city, heading west—the SOLDIER hideouts. As usual, Vincent felt the Turks knew far more than they shared.
The city slept as the airship touched down on Edge's single landing dock, and dawn's early light cast foggy rays across the surrounding wastelands. Vincent followed his temporary partner at a distance as she hurried to meet her boss, her barely concealed excitement interesting to behold. The young Turk would benefit from additional training in suppressing her emotions.
"I trust your mission was a success," Tseng said after a polite greeting, glancing at the box Vincent carried.
"Which mission are you referring to?" Vincent asked. Elena shifted uncomfortably and darted her eyes to Tseng, waiting for his lead.
The predictable smile stretched across the director's face; his pregnant pause belied the calculations he masked. Tseng inhaled before finally speaking. "Dr. Curie's research with the early Jenova program stands to advance the WRO's current endeavors. ShinRa hopes for the same."
Vincent responded with a fixed glare for Tseng's political non-answer, though to the Turk's credit, he did not waver. Fingernails dug into the cardboard. So, they would continue their ruse, despite knowing Vincent would investigate his suspicions.
"What samples are you collecting in the caves?" Vincent asked.
Elena gasped. "But—I thought—you said—" She looked to her boss in a panic, then back at Vincent. "You tricked me! I thought you were going to search the cave—not follow me!"
"Elena!" She quieted immediately at Tseng's implied order.
"Seems you've forgotten I was a Turk once, too," Vincent said to her before dragging his unamused stare back to Tseng. "What are you testing at the travel agency?"
Elena petulantly crossed her arms and stared into the distance as she remained silent.
"I see you are forcing our hand," Tseng replied with a thin smile. "Very well. A contingent of former employees seeks to re-establish the SOLDIER program and replenish their numbers. They're trying to recreate the same infusions they were given for enhancement. We strongly suspect they endeavor to remove ShinRa permanently. We…study their discarded attempts to keep abreast of their progress."
Vincent's eyes narrowed to hide his shock. Tseng's revelation was no small matter. How had Vincent missed this? Were there other connections? The SOLDIERs boldly moved around Wutai, not truly hiding until Godo demanded their banishment.
Vincent mulled it over. SOLDIERs sought to restart the science research program that led to their powers. But—they had no medical or lab training to develop their own serums or meds on their own.
A girl, impregnated by a former SOLDIER, died after ingesting unauthorized medications, the same meds distributed to unknown groups. Pilpub.
"The delegate's daughter?" Not for the first time, Vincent secretly wished mindreading was part of his augmentations.
But Tseng gave away nothing and, after a moment, merely shook his head. "A tragedy, for certain, but not ShinRa's responsibility."
Vincent glared. "What else?"
Tseng audibly sighed, his smile growing wider. "I'm afraid you've found the limit of our knowledge."
There was a connection—Vincent suspected that Tseng thought so, too.
His eyes flashed as he studied Tseng's face and his smile turned cold as Elena shifted and whimpered behind her boss. Vincent let himself be impressed with the man's ability to remain so professional and stoic while his associate cowered and shook in her leather pumps. Vincent knew the way he appeared to others.
But now wasn't the time to interrogate the Turks for the information they concealed. They knew—that he knew—their half-truths equated to lies. Vincent was confident he would unravel the truth on his own…and locate the missing scientist in the process.
So, this is how it all comes together...
"Thanks for the info." Vincent left the pair with mouths opened wide when he jumped from the landing pad. From a distant roof, he watched the director scold the rookie. The younger Turk displayed a skilled posture, taking the displeasure as though it was a prized lesson. When the lecture ended, Tseng reached for her. Vincent smirked as their lips met.
Sleep only just pulled at her eyelids when the notification buzzed. Tifa smiled dreamily as the name lit up on her screen.
Vincent: As promised, I'm back.
She startled at a light rapping on the window. Vincent stared at her with a grin, the morning light behind him casting a silvery glow through his wind-tangled hair.
She sprang from her bed and helped him open the portal. Tifa crushed herself into his embrace, and he smoothed her hair. "Just waking up?"
"Something like that," she said as her voice wavered.
Vincent withdrew, his brows furrowing as he wiped the single tear slipping down her cheek. He guided her back to the bed, leaning against the headboard and cradling her in his arms. "I'm listening," he said.
Tifa turned to press her face into his chest. "Was all this for nothing? Chasing ShinRa's past—unearthing things we'd rather leave buried?" She felt guilty that she couldn't feel more relief for Molly's sake. "Liza's baby—has to grow up without his mother.
"What if—things go bad again?" She rose to meet Vincent's eyes. "He's still at the labs. They've set up some special nursery for SOLDIERs' orphaned babies." Tifa buried her face into Vincent's neck. "That's no place to raise a child."
"Hey." Vincent massaged her back. "Hey—look at me." Tifa sat up on her knees and wiped her face. Vincent tugged at her chin with his fingers until she met his eyes. "It's not the same. No one will raise the child to be a killer." She nodded at the force of his words. "I swear it. I'll talk to Reeve later today. Find out their intentions."
Tifa grabbed his hands between hers. "I already did."
"And?"
She gave him a sheepish smile. "And? Well—I offered my home." Tifa paled at the shock that briefly passed over Vincent's expression. "I have plenty of room—an unused kids' room. It's not as if I know nothing about children. I offered to foster and maybe…adopt the baby."
"What about Luxiere?" Vincent asked, revealing nothing in the mask that returned to his face.
Tifa shrugged. "Reeve said he doesn't know what to expect from Lux. But if he doesn't show interest in taking his child, they'll consider my request first. It's not like the WRO has no experience finding adoptive families."
With no expectation for his reaction, Tifa wanted to cheer when he smiled and hugged her close. "You have such a big heart, Tifa," he whispered into her ear, then rocked her gently as she cried.