Part One

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3.10.2420 -- 12:58 A

Shifting, Reno moved his weight to his right arm only long enough to adjust the grip on his stolen rifle. His eyes never left the scope and the crosshatch center never wavered from the space between his target's eyes. Breathing quietly through his teeth, he felt the craving to light up, to release his gun long enough to light up a fag and get some sweetly narcotic nicotine into his lungs. Just enough to make the chemical and smoke saturated air he was already breathing complete.

But he knew better than to let go of his gun, or to risk the curling white smoke of tobacco or the tiny flame used to light it being seen. He needed the money more than he needed the cigarette.

The hit was simple. Kill the target after his friend had delivered a piece of goods, retrieve the goods and return them to his contact. Very, very simple.

Closing one blue-green eye and then the other in a long blink, Reno prepared to -- something was off.

In one smooth motion, he rolled off his right arm and swung the rifle around, pulling the trigger.

The woman's head blew apart in an explosion of blood, brain matter, and bone fragments. Reno was already standing up -- body curling up from it's prone position as his rifle arm pushed him to his feet -- by the time the woman's body fell in a slow crumpling motion, gun skittering from her outstretched hand and clattering to the ground.

1.29.2420 -- 2:17 P

"Sir?"

Calculating eyes, buried deep like dangerous beads in the over-wide face, lifted from the piles of paper to assess the dark-haired man who had entered his office. "You want to recruit a Turk." He didn't ask questions, he made statements of fact that were really cloaked demands.

Tseng tipped his head forward as he stepped forward to offer a file to the president, "Yes, sir."

"What makes this one so special," Shinra replied, flipping negligently through the standard file sheets that Shinra Inc. kept on every citizen born in Midgar.

"We can make him loyal."

The eyes lifted again, shrewd beads bright with cold interest.

"Please refer to the note of the last page."

Almost carelessly, the thick blonde man turned to the final page and skimmed the contents, "Interesting."

"Yes, sir."

Something cunning passed across the wide features as Shinra tossed the file aside and steepled his fingers in thought, "I have twenty-five Turks," he spat the word like it was poison, "rotting in this company's containment cells. What do you suggest I do with them?"

"I wouldn't know, sir."

"I do. You can't go chasing after this new recruit of yours because as my only loyal Turk, you are going to stay here and do your job. Your colleagues, however, have more than enough time on their hands. I've decided to be merciful, Tseng," Shinra leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the plush armrests, "If they bring me the head of your new recruit they may walk free. If your recruit manages to evade them all, he's yours. A fitting game, is it not?"

A chilling smile, the merest curve of chiseled lips, slid over Tseng's features, "More than fitting."

"Then get to it."

"Yes, sir," the Turk replied with a bow as he turned to go.

Casual words followed his steps, "According to this, Tseng, he's a wild card. Completely unpredictable ... and dangerous."

The dark-haired man half turned, that chilling smile sneaking across his lips again, "That's why I want him, sir."

An answering smile of ice and daggers twitched at the corners of the presidents lips, "Excellent."

3.10.2420 -- 12:58 A

Jack looked up the building across from him, noting the sudden lack of the rifle point aimed at his head as the shot rang out across the night. Looks like she got him.

3.10.2420 -- 1:01 A

His footsteps were casual as Jack mounted the grounded fire escape and climbed onto the roof, gun held loosely in his hand as his eyes moved lazily towards the point where their redheaded target had been. "Got that bitch, eh Chelsea?"

Only it wasn't the target who was lying face-first on the ground.

It was Chelsea.

Too late he saw the body, too late words rang in his ears, "So that's 'er name?", too late he turned only to be greeted with the flashing end of a gun pointing at his head.

Reno watched impassively as his target dropped like the woman had, a mess in place of a head.

It was the small things that had alerted him. A soft tread of a heal on gravel, the whisper of cloth as steel was revealed, the ever-flickering eyes of his target glancing his way ... bending, he rifled through the man's pockets as he had the woman's, removing everything of value while searching for ID.

There was none. This whole deal had been a set-up. Just like the last man who had taken a potshot at him in the dark. And like that one, these two were also dead. Reno had only needed to learn the painful lesson of leaving your enemies dead once.

Once is vengeance. Twice is a conspiracy on your life.

Eyes narrowed, he stood and descended from the roof by the rickety fire escape.

Someone wanted him dead.

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Part Two   |   Momentos   |   Fanfiction