FORENSIC DEPT INTERNAL MEMO - CONFIDENTIAL
CASE FILE NO.: T-7025
REQUESTING DEPT: Administrative Affairs
SUMMARY
No physical signs of entry have been discovered in the office. The computer and associated peripherals have been examined for physical tampering, including a fingerprint scan and a review of internal components.
Access logs show the following users:
- Gen. Sephiroth
- Sys. Admin
- AdminAffairsDept
Initial findings show no sign of remote terminal access. More investigation is ongoing.
Potential files exposed:
1. SOLDIER Operational Files: RISK: Medium - Access below Top Secret
2. Material Storage Files: RISK: Low
3. Troop Movement Intelligence: RISK: High - Critical to operational secrecy, includes most recent locations and bases
4. Science Dept records: RISK: Unknown - Dept declined to share files with the forensic team
5. Personnel records: RISK: Low - sensitive personnel information such as bank information, address, medical records are stored separately.
No signs of file tampering, additions, or deletions.
RECOMMENDED ACTION ITEMS
1. Increase pen testing on critical areas and continue to catalog discovered security vulnerabilities
2. Escalate request to Science Dept to identify areas of potential vulnerability
3. Further verify personal data security with HR dept admin
IV. Reactivating Threats
"You have a mission for me Lazard?" Zack called as soon as the door to the briefing room slid open.
"Yes," Lazard answered, already expecting the Third Class soldier's arrival for one of several briefings he had to do that day. He reached for the stack of folders next to him, already thinner than when he had started the day, as Zack approached the row of seats facing the screen.
Lazard found this aspect of the job both the most and least pleasant. Though within Soldier he could almost be considered a mere paper pusher, he truly enjoyed interacting with all the men and women in his department's employ. Given his position and how many people there were (for as small and elite as Soldier was, it still numbered more than a thousand men and women), meeting them all was impossible. Thus, Lazard preferred to handle mission briefings when he could. However, there were always missions that were certain bloodbaths. Less now, more when Soldier was still heavily involved in Wutai. Briefings and inevitably debriefings that kept Lazard up at night.
Thankfully, today he was less a dealer of death. Nonetheless, the mission was critically important.
"As you know, we have had an uptick in monster activity both near Midgar and across the region." Zack nodded, crossing his arms in front of him, and shifting his weight to one leg. Unsurprising. There wasn't a week gone where the news reports didn't have something new to talk about.
"So…" Zack hedged, "You want me to beat up some monsters outside Midgar again?" He looked like he might wilt from the news. If he had a tail it would have stopped wagging and hung limp with disappointment. Lazard chuckled. Puppy indeed.
"Nothing quite so simple. We are sending you to Junon instead," he tapped a few keys to bring up a screen that featured a zoomed-in map of the seaport turned military installation and the surrounding area. This too was why he preferred to handle briefings personally, sometimes sharing information that otherwise wouldn't be printed on paper or disseminated so readily. "We have reason to suspect that these monster sightings are not random and that someone is controlling them. You may meet more than just the occasional Zemzelett."
Zack pulled up a seat, becoming more serious at Lazard's words. Zack's enthusiasm makes him act dense at times. Some of his blind spots and teenage hardheadedness remain to be tempered by time and experience. That said, he was handpicked by Angeal and wasn't stupid by any means. Lazard turned to face Zack.
"We don't know right now for sure what we are up against," Lazard admitted, "Shinra has made no small amount of enemies. We know there are a mix of eco terrorist cells and Wutai affiliated insurgents active across the continent. Now with this monster uptick- well, that doesn't seem to fit the modus operandi of either group and we can't rule out the possibility of another party we know nothing about."
Zack leaned back, twisting his chair to face the screen.
"So Junon," he studied the map, "you think we might find some kinda clue there?"
"Yes, we traced unusual activity off the coast. Angeal has already received his assignment nearby."
There was third reason Lazard was personally doing these briefings, and individually. Each Soldier received different coordinates and missions were timed to deploy around the same time to avoid tipping off the enemy. For operational security, Lazard didn't share the locations of other missions, dotted across the continent.
Zack scratched the back of his head.
"I hate to break it to you, Lazard, but I can't search an area that size by myself unless you are, like, sending me out for a year or something. Is this a punishment? From Genesis for something I said?"
"Oh, you aren't going alone," Lazard slid a pile of personnel files across the table, "We are sending three squads of ten infantrymen each, led by third class Soldiers. You should use this time before deployment to become familiarized with your subordinates and fellow squad leaders."
"And if we find these monsters?" Lazard waved a negligent hand.
"Captured alive if possible. Hojo wants specimens. However, I have no wish to meaninglessly sacrifice any men. So my orders, off the record of course, are…"
"Yes? Yes?" Zack asked eagerly.
"Go in and indulge yourself."
"Yes! That's what I do best! Thanks, Lazard." Lazard chuckled softly.
"Thank Angeal. He recommended you take some leadership positions. Don't disappoint him."
"Of course," Zack saluted only half seriously, "Mission accepted, director."
"Stop by the quartermaster if you need. Your transport leaves on the hour."
"Reno, you do know that I'm not legal to drink yet, right?"
"Don't be such a stick in the mud!" Reno retorted, ruffling Cloud's hair as he dragged Cloud through the partially lit street, "They don't check I.D where we're going, yo."
Gun looked at the both of them bemused. Reno asked her if she wanted to get some drinks after work and she almost declined and shot (and not just shot down) the redhead when she thought she was being hit on. Instead, Reno assured her that wasn't the purpose, at least this time. He was dragging a buddy out to "show him the real Midgar, yo!" and had been asking everyone if they wanted to come. Rude was busy chasing down a lead in Sector Six, Tseng never came to these things, Cissnei was gone on a mission, and even Reno had enough sense not to ask Rod when he already asked Gun. They also decided against the usual Turk watering hole, since they did have a civilian in tow.
Of course, Reno's idea of "the Real Midgar," was this dive called Level in the seediest reaches of the Plate. It was as bad as can be without going below Plate into the undercity.
Well.
After her recent break-up with Rod, Gun thought, why not? She needed to get out of the office and forget about that jerkface who she still had to work with. And with Reno, her chances of either getting into a bar fight or getting picked up shot up pretty much exponentially. Ends and means.
No wonder Veld's cardinal rule was no fraternizing with coworkers. It got complicated, fast.
To her surprise, when Reno introduced her as Gun to Cloud, the gangly teenager shot her a confused look.
"Oh!" He exclaimed, as though coming to a sudden realization, "You must be Elena's sister, right? Elena Land?" Gun just sighed, seeing no real reason to deny it. Who was the geeky research assistant going to tell?
"Elena talks too much," She said, exasperated. Cloud laughed.
"She is very excitable." Gun tilted her head.
"How do you know?" She asked. Cloud smiled.
"You two look alike, ma'am," he answered, "But if you were asking how I know Elena, we were in the same materia class."
Gun started to giggle. Elena came home, her academy uniform lightly singed and excitedly telling her about class. Gun tutted at her for ruining yet another set of clothes as her younger sister filled her in with what she thought was a tall tale, but… "So you are that kid she set on fire on the first day!"
"She did not!" Cloud protested as Reno yelped, "You didn't tell me this, yo!"
As they walked out of the Shinra district, Reno had one arm around Cloud's shoulders and leaned on him, interjecting occasionally in a loud voice as Gun tried to extract the real story from her sister's classmate (with a "And please, just call me Gun. It's what I go by.").
The entrance to Level looked like an abandoned and condemned building. In fact, the building was condemned after Urban Development considered this part of the Plate unsafe for the load it bore. To lighten the weight on the pillar, many of the taller buildings were already dismantled but plans to turn the flattened areas into a park never came to fruition and shanty towns sprung up instead.
Shinra's attention moved on since, and no money ever came to reinforce the area or redevelop it, leaving the neighborhood only a step up above the slums if only because it got some sun. The windows and door were boarded up, and the only indication that this was a bar was the wooden plank that had the words LEVEL BAR painted haphazardly on it, crookedly mounted above the weathered wooden door. Hints of neon lights could be seen through the planks blocking up the windows.
"Are you sure we should be bringing Cloud here?" Gun asked skeptically. She wasn't even sure she wanted to be here, and she had a 9mm hidden on her waistband and another backup strapped to her calf. The place screamed seedy. Not counting the questionable swill the bar might be serving.
"No problem!" Reno grinned, baring his canines, and yanked at the door.
The bar was surprisingly warm inside, almost cozy, in contrast to the crisp evening outside, mired only by Midgar's smog. Both Turks kept their signature navy suit jackets but Cloud shrugged off his raw edged hoodie. The jackets themselves were lightly armored and tailored for movement. This particular excursion wasn't exactly a mission, but it was pretty standard to keep them on anyway, especially in seedier areas where Shinra's attention was unwelcome on the best of days.
Since it was a weekday, the bar was mostly empty, with only one or two patrons who looked up when the door opened but went back to watching the chocobo races disinterestedly as they nursed their drinks. The bartender was a heavyset man in his late forties, smoking a cigarette as he watched them enter.
"The usual for me, pops!" Reno ordered as he plopped down a grimy stool, "And the first round for these two are on me." It didn't escape Gun's notice that the seat Reno picked had a decent view of the entrance and the rest of the bar.
Gun raised an eyebrow, "I don't need you to pay, Reno. This isn't a date, remember?" Reno gave a salacious smirk.
"Well, unless you want a threesome." Cloud coughed behind a fist, and Gun ignored the redhead.
"I'll have whiskey on the rocks," She said primly. There was only one on the sign. The bartender nodded.
"And milk for the kid?" Cloud sputtered and simply asked for a West Continent brand of beer instead. The bartender shrugged but didn't try to ask for any form of identification.
Pops, since Reno did not introduce the bartender as anything else, left to get their drinks with no comment.
"So Cloud," Gun turned to the other blond, "How did you meet a degenerate like Reno?"
For one, Turks were rarely so familiar with people outside the department or family. When you couldn't talk about most of what you did, conversation with outsiders became limiting. Gun was thankful she had Elena in her life but there was plenty Gun could never share with Elena and her big mouth.
Of all people, Gun never expected Reno to invite someone out, never mind that Cloud was still technically a Shinra employee too.
Cloud looked at Reno and raised a brow. "Did you want to tell it?" Gun snorted. Reno was sure to embellish but she gestured for the redhead to go ahead anyway.
"So it's gotta be more than half a year now," Reno made a gesture like he was thinking, fingers on his chin. Gun knew it was for show, Reno had an excellent recall. Cloud, however, just nodded along.
"Start of the fall semester," he explained more to Gun than Reno, "I just got into Midgar."
"Kid was caught out when that fang pack attacked."
Gun recalled the incident.
Kalm Fangs were typically not a problem for civilians to handle and were timid when unprovoked. It was certainly noteworthy when a large pack of them started being sighted on the main roads. Turks hadn't taken much note initially and had left it to Midgar public security forces until reports came in that an attack looked out of the ordinary enough to prompt a follow-up investigation.
"You were one of the survivors?" Gun asked, astonished. Reno nodded.
"By the time we got there, carnage already happened. We were just the clean up crew." Gun remembered the pictures and winced. The wolf attack wasn't pretty, and this one took place at a truck and rest stop near one of the main arteries into and out of Midgar.
The first Public Security squad on the scene was expecting a normal mission to clear out a small pack and were wholly unprepared. Heavy casualties. Three injured, one DOA to the hospital - throat ripped out, two others died in action. Most of the squad was wiped out. A number of civilians were also maimed or killed. They hadn't ever seen a pack that large or aggressive.
"I was on a bus bound for Midgar," Cloud added, "they stopped there for a rest break and to pick up more people."
The three thanked Pops when the drinks arrived and Gun cautiously took a sip. Surprisingly, it was decent. Reno continued the story.
"By the time we got there, there was blood all over the ground. Bullets and dead bodies all over, human and wolf. And guess who made the most kills?" Gun gasped and turned to Cloud, who shrugged suddenly shy under the attention.
"When one of the MPs was down, I thought I could make myself useful. Fangs are not too different from Nibel wolves. Smaller and faster, I guess."
"You can brag a bit, yo. There were at least thirty wolves." Cloud shrugged.
"Most ran off, we didn't get even half." Reno ignored Cloud and turned to Gun.
"So you see, I tried recruiting the kid right there," Reno then held a hand up to his heart, theatrically stating, "Only to have my heart broken when my advances were rejected." Cloud rolled his eyes. Gun could sympathize.
"I was here for the academy program," Cloud exasperatedly answered. Gun bet this was a topic that came up frequently. Reno made it into the Turks on a bit of wits and a lot of sheer tenacity after all. A slum rat through and through. Gun decided to rescue the conversation before Reno was rejected again.
She interjected, "What are you studying, Cloud?"
"Um, mako sciences. Mostly the engineering track though. I don't work with the biological division at all, but that's the more popular one."
"Sounds interesting," Gun commented disinterestedly. She didn't know much about the academy outside what Elena mentioned (sometimes rambling unintelligibly as she agonized over course selection and what would fit in her schedule, complaining the entire time).
"Ja, not really," Cloud answered sheepishly "It's just a lot of math, really." Reno laughed.
They glanced up when two new people entered the bar and were greeted by Pops. After getting their order in, the two found a table and then proceeded to ignore the rest of the bar. The other patrons resumed their stupor, nursing ale and watching the chocobo race.
"This kid's a genius," Reno resumed speaking, reaching up to ruffle Cloud's hair, ignoring the squawk and weak push Cloud gave him. Gun thought in fond amusement that Reno has probably done that to Cloud so often that Cloud gave up on defending himself. "He placed out of a bunch of basic classes and got work study on top, yo! Ain't that right?" Cloud sighed.
"I can't afford to be here otherwise," Cloud said it so easily, but Gun could sense there was more to the comment.
"I don't know much about the engineering track," Gun admitted, "what does that even cover?" Cloud hummed.
"Well, materia research for one," Cloud said, "I placed out of most classes there but the practical was mandatory." That was the same class as Elena, Gun realized. Cloud continued, "That's how I ended up in the Materia Lab, researching materia fusion. We also have coursework on topics like mako refining, and reactor design."
Gun hadn't decided whether to pursue that line of questioning (She's a Turk after all, everyone is questioned, especially people close to her sister) when Reno suddenly picked up Cloud's mug and took a swig.
"Uhg, what is this stuff?" He made a face.
"Odinale," Cloud laughed, "The Nibelheim region is famous for this and wolf meat stew. Nothing else really grows there, so people make alcohol by fermenting mostly potato mash along with other scraps."
Reno shot Gun a meaningful look over Cloud's head. The kid was still explaining country homebrew, oblivious to what caught the two Turks' attention.
Gun nodded to Reno and they surreptitiously looked over at the entrance. One of the customers, previously keeping to himself, was left by his companion and had been particularly interested in the corner the Turks had commandeered, Cloud in tow.
The man in question had started acting strangely part way into what had been an innocuous discussion after his companion left, eyes darting around and at times staring at the blue jackets Reno and Gun wore.
It was clear that the man was jumpy. Gun cursed this paranoia - when he saw that the two Turks glanced his way, he lept to his feet, threw the door open, and darted into the darkening streets.
"Reno!"
"Yeah, got it!" With a clatter, they both shot out of the bar after the suspect.
"He ran toward the station! We need to get him before he gets on a train." Reno grunted in acknowledgment.
"You take the alley, I'll take the roof." They nodded at each other again and separated. Gun paused only long enough to see Reno take a flying leap at a rusty fire escape ladder before she turned a corner.
Gun's hand dipped under her jacket as she ran, grabbing her trusty sidearm. Holding it in both hands, she ran down the dim alleyway. She could hear the occasional thud of Reno's boots as he leaped from the ledge of one roof to the next. Most of the hastily constructed shanty town has densely packed buildings with shoddily constructed corrugated metal roofs and the sound of metal crash echoed, at times sounding closer and others further away, navigating the urban buildings with ease.
Gun used Reno as another point of reference as she followed the suspicious runner, listening as she turned corners and occasionally lost sight of the man.
"Stop!" She shouted at the shadow moving in front of her. The man made a right and then climbed over a wire fence.
Gun stowed her sidearm and leapt and pulled herself over the wire fence and continued giving chase. The figure looked back at her and then cut into a narrow alley between the two buildings.
"Shit," she cursed, and she followed into the dark, turning her body and head sideways, back to the wall to minimize exposure. Where is he? Gun's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, out of the dim light of the flickering street lamps. Suddenly, the man slid around and a shot bounced off the brick wall behind where Gun had stepped. Gun slammed herself back behind cover, peering around the corner.
She could see a glint of metal in the man's hand. He's armed! Gun cursed.
Why didn't she notice it before?
She thought about her options. She was confident she would be faster. It would be risky though, since they wanted this guy alive. On the other hand, the man looked like he had a small caliber round, and it was unlikely to penetrate Gun's protective suit, with the wild shot he took, not likely to get in a headshot at twenty paces. Gun will take her chances.
Gun pivoted out, two hands on her firearm, one bracing the other for steady shot. Time felt like it slowed down as adrenaline hit and she lined up her shot.
Just before Gun could pull the trigger, Reno slammed into their suspect from above. The man dropped instantly.
"Yo, miss me?" Gun cursed and lowered her weapon when it was clear the man wouldn't get up again, under Reno's knee, and sighed.
"I almost shot you," She snapped at the smirking redhead as she kicked the pistol away from the prone body, "Drag him out. We need to bring him in." Reno gave her a casual salute and pulled out plastic ties, roughly bounding the man's wrists behind him. There was a weak grunt, but little resistance. The man was thoroughly knocked out.
An hour later, well past the time most office workers had already gone home, the two left Veld's office to head for the holding cells. They exchanged a look.
"So…" Reno hedged, "Aren't we forgetting someone?" Gun froze from where she had slumped against the wall.
"Aw, fuck!" She cursed, "Where's Cloud?" Contritely she remembered they left him with the bill too.
Genesis trudged out of the Eighth District theater thoroughly disgusted. He was already mentally composing a thoroughly scathing review, to be posted under his not-truly-secret pseudonym.
He heard about the newest rendition of the Loveless play through Angeal and had taken some time away from the headquarters to watch it, specifically catching a late showing where there might be less of his fanclub that could catch him.
The play ended up being the same drivel it always was, with a thoroughly unsatisfactory, ambiguous ending hinting more at a writer's laziness, of the Hero disappearing into time and space while his lover and family waited without any real hope of seeing him again.
The main character, which they decided to name Leon in this rendition, made some of the worst choices possible until the very last moments. His love interest was written with such helplessness Genesis was convinced they had taken the damsel trope and made it a character. Sometimes, Genesis wished he could have been an I Want to be Your Canary fan instead.
"Oi, get back here you little shit!" Genesis looked up as footsteps approached.
From the alleyway next to the theater, a lanky blond teen sprinted out. His eyes widened when he saw Genesis in his path, and the last ditch effort to correct his course forced him to lose his balance and hit the ground at a roll, stopping at Genesis's feet. His glasses slipped down, bouncing onto the pavement but left uncracked.
Behind him, a thug stepped into the dim light reflecting from the theater. He paused when he saw Genesis, having enough self preservation to come no closer, warily eyeing the rapier Genesis wore at his side. The boundary of the alley way's turn onto the main street in front of the theater an invisible border. A moment and the thug withdrew. Genesis blinked after him and decided it wasn't worth his energy to give chase, instead peering down at the blond boy, who had dusted himself off and slid his glasses back on, also warily looking at the retreating back.
"Think's that's the last we'll see of him?" the boy asked. Genesis didn't know how he was so easily roped into this. Genesis, now having a closer look, could see that the panting teenager had several large gashes in his clothes and his hands were slightly cut up.
"What the hell?" Genesis managed eloquently.
"Ah sorry Commander," the kid said, rubbing his palms together where they were clearly red from abrasions gained from the cement. He then abashedly stuffed his palms in his pockets, "Although if I could ask something…" Genesis sighed, expecting a fan asking for an autograph and motioned for the kid to continue.
"Ireallyneedaliftback-" the request flew out of the kid's mouth, almost faster than Genesis could catch.
"Hold on, slow down," Genesis interrupted, "what?"
What a great evening! Terrible play. Now this. Slowly the story came out. The kid met some friends on the outskirts. They went to a bar and stuck him with the bill.
Some friends.
And as it turned out the boy was now stuck far out without enough gil to catch a train back after picking up the tab.
"I promise I can pay you back, sir," the boy continued.
"Fine," Genesis raked a hand through his hair, frustrated, and turned without waiting to see if the blond followed. Together they made their way toward the station. Somehow, Genesis had forgotten about the play entirely.
Gun glanced nervously at Reno, who was leaning against a wall and on his third cigarette. They breathed a collective sigh of relief when they received a call from Cloud that he made it back to his dorm in good health.
Now, they were both sitting across the one way mirror peering into the observation room where Veld's questioning continued. Reno had one leg crossed over the other, ankle balanced over his knee with a nightstick balanced over his folded leg. He sat leaning away from a desk with a computer that was recording the proceedings, an investigative report pulled up. Gun meanwhile had disassembled her firearm and was meticulously cleaning it. Both looked relaxed but knew the other was coiled tight like a coeurl ready to spring at the slightest sign of provocation.
Their prisoner gave both the seasoned Turks Bad Vides. He acted shifty in the bar, certainly, and had been near catatonic when they booked him into the interrogation room in the Tower.
When he finally came to again, patted down for hidden weapons, and then cuffed to the interviewee's chair, an unnatural calmness settled in, like the man was a different person. He looked around, almost puzzled about how he arrived, and when Veld stepped into the room, displayed polite diffidence to the director, almost as if he hadn't previously tried to run from people wearing that very same suit.
Under a veneer of cooperation, the suspect had been at no point forthcoming, claiming he had no recollection of being on the Plate let alone in the bar, and certainly did not own a firearm of any kind.
"Like I said, I'm a school teacher in the slums," the man explained again, tone placid, "I haven't stepped foot on the Plate in months."
There was no ID on him and the name he provided returned a record that didn't match. It wasn't impossible - slum records were never the best - but rare, especially as Shinra started enforcing IDs scans on most trains. Under the Plate, it helped to be nobody, but getting out - you needed to be someone who was at least real in Shinra's system.
"You don't remember being at the bar?" The man grimaced. Nothing . Gun picked up no tells of a lie. It's as if they apprehended the wrong man, and she knew that was not possible.
"My wife told me to cut that shit out," he waved with the arm not cuffed down, "I haven't look at a drink in years. What would I do at a bar."
"So tell me what you remember." The man frowned.
"I've told you already. I was minding my own business, finished my night shift - teaching alone doesn't pay the bills you know - and heading home. Something knocked me out and now I'm here."
"They are going to go around in circles," Reno complained. Gun shook her head.
"It doesn't make sense."
The recording mic could pick up the sound of Veld shuffling his paper notes. Gun knew it was a stalling tactic. The man knew all there was available about Mr. Thomas Thurston.
There was a soft click at the door that had both Turks tense when Rod popped his head in and then opened the door to reveal the rest of him. Neither relaxed, they knew something was up if Rod came to find them. Veld didn't like being interrupted when conducting "interviews".
"We need to get the boss out of there now," He explained, and then handed the two Turks folders that had the unknown man's picture and profile, "Photo just matched him to an ex-convict that disappeared from a sector two prison. We are going to need to rethink our approach."
"Shit," Reno cursed and then pressed a button on the screen. "Boss, don't wanna interrupt but you need to hear this."
Veld gave no indication he heard Reno on his earpiece but after a few more sentences of exchange with the suspect, he gracefully left with a "We will continue this discussion Mr. Thurston."
Moments later, Veld stepped into the observation room and then looked at Rod expectantly. Across the microphone, the suspect was yelling after Veld about his rights. Gun tuned out the man with practiced efficiency but no one tried to lower the volume.
"Boss," Rod greeted and held out a file, which Veld took and flipped through while Rod summarized.
"We don't have a recent picture but best matches to a man named Chester Campbel. Last known affiliations to a now disbanded under-plate criminal organization. Military Police busted them three years ago and Chester got a prison sentence, which abruptly ended a year ago. No one knows yet how he's been under the radar for this long." Veld nodded in approval and turned toward the door, gesturing to all three Turks.
"Let him stew and move this to my office. I want everything you have on Chester Campbel."
As they strode out, Reno tapped on the shoulder of a nearby grunt with his nightstick.
"Move him back to detention." The trooper nodded, face indiscernible behind the visored helmet.
"Yes sir."
As the door closed behind the observation room, the computer booted down and the interview concluded, the suspect was still speaking,
"Wait, am I in the Shinra tower?"