Chapter 9: Confession
Despite the long night before, Veld was in at work early the next morning. There were still some unpleasant tasks to complete: namely, briefing the affected SOLDIER personnel about the current stupid clusterfuck. Hewley would need advance warning so he could prepare for any fallout should that damned, ancient centerfold come to public light. After that his superiors, Sephiroth and Lazard.
The command structure of SOLDIER was somewhat ambiguous and tended to be flexible depending on the missions involved—in a sense, similar to how the Turks operated. Lazard assigned the missions, created orders, and ran the organization. All SOLDIER Operators answered to him. Sephiroth, as the most senior First Class, was Hewley's direct superior. Both had a need to know.
It would all be discussed very informally and off the record, of course, because the whole mess still officially did not exist. But Veld wanted to do Hewley the courtesy of informing him first and in person.
He checked the posted schedules for the First Class SOLDIERs. Hewley would be tied up all morning teaching a seminar about self-defense against swords then a practical class on unarmed combat to the new batch of rookie Thirds.
Veld supposed he could make an appointment with Hewley or text to get his time, but he preferred not to do anything that would leave electronic—and traceable—trails, at least when it came to "non-existent" problems that the Turks were tasked to solve. He'd rather catch Hewley in a hallway between classes, or maybe on his way to someplace routine like an office or the gym. An "accidental" encounter, as it were.
He looked at the clock. Maybe at breakfast? Since Hewley's schedule started early, he might be eating in the cafeteria. Worth checking out, at any rate. He nodded to himself and headed out.
When he arrived it seemed his luck had changed for the better, because there was Hewley shoveling in food at a round table on the far side of the room, his monster sword leaning against the table beside him. An instant later Veld realized that his luck was just as rotten as ever: Hewley was sitting with Sephiroth and Rhapsodos. The three SOLDIER Firsts were chatting and laughing amiably. Without a care in the world, it seemed.
Damnation. He'd have to pull Hewley aside quietly, and there was no way his two friends wouldn't smell a rat when the head Turk showed up and requested a private conversation. Well, Sephiroth would have to find out anyway, and from what Veld understood of the trio's relationship, Rhapsodos wouldn't be left in the dark, either. So there wouldn't be any damage or fallout with those two, Veld hoped.
At least he believed he had a good way to convey his message, one only Hewley would understand. Veld put on his best mask of casual confidence and strode over to them.
"SOLDIER Hewley?" he said to make his presence known. Conversation and laughter ceased, and three pairs of mako eyes fixed on him. Suspiciously.
That intense focus was definitely disconcerting, but he'd suffered through it before.
Hewley asked, "Is there something I can do for you, Mister Veld?"
"I'd like to speak with you privately about Michael Stevens." Surely Hewley would recognize the fake name he'd chosen for his centerfold credit, even if he hadn't used it in seven years.
But it seemed he didn't. His eyebrows knit, creating a deep furrow above his nose, and he stared blankly at the space over Veld's shoulder. His lips pursed like he was thinking hard, searching his memory but coming up empty. "Michael Stevens?"
"Michael Stevens was known to you in Banora before you joined the company," Veld prompted him, acutely aware of the stares the other two SOLDIERs were leveling at both of them. Though they looked fiercely curious, neither Sephiroth nor Rhapsodos asked any questions. They were probably saving them for when they could get Hewley alone.
When Hewley still looked blank, Veld added, "You were acquainted with him about seven years ago." Hewley continued to look baffled. Veld tried again with more information than he considered wise: "I believe some photographs were involved."
Hewley's eyes suddenly widened and he flushed a vivid crimson that rivaled Rhapsodos's coat. He pressed a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat twice. His friends' gazes sharpened.
Veld waited.
Hewley collected himself, pushed the remains of his breakfast away, and stood up. His face was still red, but he said evenly, "I remember Michael now. I agree we should talk in private."
Sephiroth and Rhapsodos also rose and moved to flank him. Closing ranks. Against a common foe? Veld hoped they didn't regard him in that light, but all things considered, their reaction wasn't unexpected, either. There were reasons they were sometimes referred to behind their backs as the SOLDIER Triumvirate. People less star struck and more cynical called them "a matched set of three." They tended to stand together even when they weren't feeling threatened.
Sephiroth murmured, "Angeal, are you—?"
"It's fine," Hewley interrupted the question. "There's nothing to be concerned about. It's actually kind of stupid. I'll explain later." To Veld, he said, "Let's go find an empty office or conference room somewhere."
"It won't take long. You'll probably have time to come back and finish breakfast," Veld said, as much to reassure Sephiroth and Rhapsodos as Hewley that nothing nefarious was going on. He regarded them with as much caution as they had for him. He always forgot how imposing they were despite their relative youth, how they loomed over mere mortals and commanded undivided attention without even trying. Each over six feet tall and unconsciously radiating barely leashed power, insane strength and competence, might both physical and magical. Best not to speak too much around these three when they were together and defensive like this. Turks, just by existing, did tend to put people on the defensive.
Hewley hefted his monstrous Buster Sword and deftly swung it over his shoulder as easily as Veld might lift a handgun. It connected with the sword harness and attached with an audible snap. Hewley made a gesture toward the exit. "After you."
They turned into the first empty meeting room they found. It was tiny and windowless, but boasted a small meeting table, a few chairs, a video setup, a wall clock and an electronic whiteboard. Hewley looked pointedly at the camera mounted in an upper corner near the ceiling.
Veld noted the room number and pulled out his PHS. "Tseng, this is Veld. Disengage all surveillance in conference room 63Y-25." He listened to Tseng's request for confirmation, responding, "Yes, all of it. Thanks." He tucked his phone back in a pocket and turned to Hewley, who carefully seated himself, reaching back to adjust his sword so it wouldn't cut the chair in half.
Veld appreciated the SOLDIER's courtesy in sitting, so at least he wasn't looming over Veld like a hungry behemoth. Probably Hewley knew it, too, which was undoubtedly why he sat down while Veld finished his call to Tseng. Hewley was easily the most considerate and socially aware of his peers. Sephiroth would be oblivious, and Rhapsodos wouldn't bother for a Turk. He'd actively enjoy intimidation.
Or maybe it was the reverse? Sephiroth could be a nasty piece of work when the mood took him, and Rhapsodos, coming from wealth, didn't always acknowledge or even notice the "little people" around him. They were more alike in their behaviors than either of them wanted to admit.
Veld sometimes wondered how Rhapsodos had ended up childhood friends with Hewley. The class distinctions should have been almost insurmountable. And all three becoming practically inseparable? It was just plain weird.
Hewley rubbed his face. The flush had subsided and now he just looked uncomfortable. "I always figured there was no way Shinra would manage to track them all down," he said without preamble. "I'm guessing you found more?"
At the SOLDIER First's knowing question, Veld raised an eyebrow. "Only one, in fact."
Hewley looked surprised. "Then what's the problem? I assume you destroyed it. That's been SOP since Shinra decided it cared about...well, my little indiscretion."
"Yes, about that. I fear I must apologize to you."
"Why? You didn't do anything. I created the problem in the first place." He shrugged, lips twisting into a wry half-smile-half-frown. "Though who knew back then that some easy cash would ever turn into such a giant corporate mess?"
At least he had a pretty comfortable attitude about the whole thing. "Had it been destroyed, I never would have bothered you about it. Unfortunately, while the Turks did recover it, we later lost possession through a mishap and have been unable to locate it again." Veld did not explain the mechanics of how the magazine had been lost. No one expected Turks to ever explain anything, thank Minerva.
"A mishap? From the Turks?" Hewley smiled. "Does that really happen?"
"Sometimes," Veld admitted, "though we make a point of rectifying any errors with alacrity. We are attempting to rectify this error, as well."
Hewley shrugged without much concern. "Honestly, it's been out in the world for seven years. Most people have probably forgotten it ever existed. Why is this one copy such a big deal? Maybe it'll just fade away again."
There were comfortable attitudes, and there were naïve ones. Veld very carefully kept his expression calm and reminded himself that Hewley was only twenty-two years old and reportedly didn't worry much about personal fame. Rumor had it that he honestly believed his fan club focused on their public declarations of honor and not on their private fantasies about him. But then, the Turks monitored the various fan clubs and were privy to all kinds of discomfiting information. Hewley's fans really were among the most benign, in the sense that none of them were likely to become active stalkers. That wasn't a very high bar to meet, though.
Patiently, Veld explained, "It's not an issue yet. However, I felt you ought to be warned in case it becomes a...complication. There is every possibility that it could surface in a public way and cause great embarrassment."
"To the Shinra company?"
"It could also impact the SOLDIER organization's reputation. And you personally, as well. I just thought you should know in case it does become publicly known again, so you can prepare yourself."
"You're going to bring this up with Lazard, aren't you?"
"He also needs to be prepared for any bad publicity that might arise. So should your direct superior, Sephiroth. You can tell him, or I can speak to him if you wish."
"Nah, I'll talk to Sephiroth later today." Hewley rubbed at the fuzz on his chin. "And Genesis, Gaia help me. He'll just worm it out of Seph if I try to keep it from him and be a total pest for the next month, and Seph will tell him, too, just to shut him up."
"Ah." Veld politely avoided commenting on the exasperated editorial about the other two most powerful and famous SOLDIERs in the company.
Hewley pulled out his PHS and started scrolling through calendars. "Everyone's schedules are pretty packed today," he said, staring down at the screen. "I probably won't get to talk privately with them until sometime tonight." He looked up. "Is waiting that long okay with you?"
"It's fine. Would you like to be present when I speak to Lazard? As with your friends, he's busy today. The earliest I'll be able to see him is tomorrow. I won't be making an official appointment, but I can contact you when I talk to him if you want to join us."
"Oh, no. I think Seph and Gen will be enough voluntary embarrassment for one week. Lazard can call me if he has any questions."
"As you wish." Veld nodded and checked the clock on the wall. The entire conversation had gone better than he'd expected. He attributed that to Hewley's easy-going personality (at least, compared to Sephiroth and Rhapsodos) and his unwisely casual attitude about the potential consequences.
Note: Some may have noticed that I'm experimenting with a SOLDIER command structure that is hopefully somewhat more compliant with what actually appears in the FF7/Crisis Core games, rather than the common fanon conventions of General, Generals, Commanders, etc. (In the games, SOLDIER isn't structured like any kind of conventional military organization or even special operations, but more as a group of semi-independent operators of three distinct classes based on skill/combat/strength/power levels who take on a wide range of assignments.) It won't be particularly important other than to establish Sephiroth as top of the heap (under Lazard), so it should be ignorable.