Bullet Catchers

Bullet Catchers

By Jazzbo22
Jazzbo22@hotmail.com

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm’s way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno yaoi, angst

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Chapter Three




Getting the tapes from the networks had been easy enough. Apparently they didn’t like anyone creating a fuss, threatening their workers. Knowing the person roughing them up was a Turk really helped. Everyone knew Shinra’s Administrative Research Department dealt in some shady business. The black Mercedes had a reputation of its own, as well as the navy uniforms. All Reno had to do was walk into the building, lay his hand on his nightstick, and magically all the tapes were on the front counter in a neat little cardboard box.

Before heading to his office he had stopped at a Starbucks or whatever the crap it was called – only the top plate had gourmet coffee. After his first sip he had tossed the damn thing out the window. Too sweet. He liked the dark, bitter shit that was sold underneath, or in the donut shops around the city. Yeah, that stuff was good. Making one more stop, he had picked up a proper black coffee, finally satisfying his caffeine craving. Looking at tape after tape would be hard if his mind was on his coffee all the time.

He was glad he didn’t have a nicotine addiction, like Scarlet. God, she was always complaining that she needed a cigarette, and she always stunk. He worked that shit through his system way back before he was a Turk, while he was a poor kid doing whatever it took to make ends meet in the slums. Smoking, sex and experimental drugs were fun, cool then. Not so much when you have to spend days hiding in the grass or snow waiting for your victim to appear- going through withdrawal isn’t fun. Or running after your prey for blocks and blocks – the first time he had to do that he realized quickly that his lungs were in bad shape, and that he had to pull it together.

Stopping at Shinra HQ, he parked underneath the building. Hauling the four full boxes out of his trunk, he slammed it and made his way over the elevator. Damn, these things were heavy. Pressing the ‘up’ button, he waited.

So much had happened today, it left him with almost a surreal feeling. In the event that the President’s life was in danger, anyone of the Turks was expected to take damage for him. He was the only person on Shinra staff they had to be prepared to sacrifice their life for. Up until today, no one ever had to catch a bullet for him. It was so unreal to see Tseng step in front of him and absorb it with no second thought for his own health. Never before had Reno seen his boss actually get hurt. He and Rude got into all sorts of shit all the time so he was used to accompanying his partner to the ICU, and vice versa. Tseng though? No way. He used to be the unbleedable boss. Now he was human. It was weird.

Stepping into the elevator, Reno stared at his reflection in the glass. With everything taken into account though, if the roles had been reversed and he had seen whatever Tseng had seen, he would have pushed Rufus out of the way and taken the hit. The only thinking that goes into that kind of a situation is protecting the President. You can think about how stupid you were to put yourself purposely in front of a fucking bullet later. And you’d do it again and again. However many times someone decided to pull a gun on Rufus Shinra, you’d put yourself in front of it. It was the job. Of course, if Reno had been the one on the podium instead of Tseng and had jumped in front, they’d have to find someone new for his job. Both he and Rufus were close to the same height, and that bullet would’ve gone straight through his head. Just the thought that his life could end so soon sent chills down Reno’s spine. He knew he was going to die young, but not this young.

The elevator had finally slowed to a stop, and Reno had stepped off, heading for his tiny office. Tseng got the big office, but he got more paperwork to go along with it. Tiny office meant you weren’t in there a lot, if you were a Turk. You got to do the field work. Reno felt sorry for the people that worked in cubicles. He would’ve gone crazy working in such a confined space.

Kicking his office door closed, Reno set the boxes on the floor, opening the lid of the top one. He didn’t even bother suppressing a groan at all the data inside.

“This is going to take forever.” He whined to no one inparticular, pulling out the first tape. In the back of his mind he could hear Tseng, ‘less whining, more working’.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this show on the road. Did any of you camera people get anything interesting besides the President nearly getting a bullet between the eyes?” He hoped someone was wise enough to have pointed their camera at the rafter. It was probably a futile wish though – the action was all up front, and everyone was dying to get a reaction from the President. He does cold and calculated so well, but does he show fear?

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Once it hit the news, all the channels were breaking out with more footage of the attempted assassination. What angered Tseng the most was that all the footage was either of his reaction or Rufus’ reaction split seconds after the shot was fired. No one had ever thought to point their cameras to the rafters.

It had been hours since the conference, and still no new information had been submitted. Gomez was still going over security tapes from within the Center. Rude had some luck with the interrogation, but it was still ongoing. He had received a call from Reno a short while ago telling him what he didn’t want to hear – nothing on the tapes was useful yet. He had said he still had two more boxes to go, but it didn’t look good.

Tseng had been doing his own research, going through gangs within Midgar or any Shinra haters that had made enough of a statement to be put in the files. The search was unsuccessful though. Either everyone was dead or they didn’t have the intelligence to carry out such an operation.

He gave an annoyed sigh, closing another file on his desk. It was no use. He hated having to admit it, but as of yet they had absolutely no lead, and no information of substance had passed by him. If he had to be thankful for one thing though, he knew he had a solid team working underneath him. Sooner or later some rock would be overturned and then they could act immediately. Right now though, it was a waiting game and he was slowly losing his patience.

The recovery report and doctor’s certificate for Elena had been brought to him a little less than half and hour ago. She was in a bad way. She had been injected with some sort of chemical to make her lose consciousness, but she went down kicking. Her list of injuries only meant that she was going to be out of commission for at least a couple weeks. As soon as she gained consciousness he had a list of questions for her.

This day had to be one of the worst within his career. When the former President Shinra had been murdered he had felt like a failure, he wasn’t about to have the same thing happen again.

Leaning back into his desk chair, Tseng picked up the remote, flicking to another news channel. It was the same old, same old. The camera had zoomed in enough to make out both his and Rufus’ face at the time of impact. His raybands had fallen off when he had covered Rufus’ body with his own, displaying his own reaction. Rufus’ face had been smeared with his blood after the bullet had lodged itself in his shoulder, and his expression had been barely masked fear. If Rufus had seen the footage, which he most likely had by now, he would be angry with himself. The world now knew what could rattle the usually in-control man.

Tseng’s face didn’t depict anything more than pain, anger and concentration. He had enough training over the years in how to cover his reaction even when receiving damage. If he was afraid of pain or even giving his own life for his President, then this was not the career for him.

It was almost two hours before his Turks and Gomez were expected in his office, and Tseng was hoping on his end he would have something important to say by then. Rufus also expected a report detailing some sort of useful information on his desk by tomorrow morning, and Tseng wasn’t sure if he would actually be able to provide anything. The whole situation was pressing him, making him angry, forcing him to concentrate on maintaining his cool exterior. Inside he felt like he was running in circles, tearing at his hair, frustrated by everything. He was an explosion just waiting to happen.

He looked through the information he had currently. Someone, or a group of people had managed to sneak into the building undetected. The grate in rafter A had been a point of entry, but not necessarily the only one. They had taken out a trained assassin in mere seconds. Elena may be a walking airhead, but she could pull it together on the job. Not only that, but they had given her serious injuries. They also managed to squeeze off a perfect shot at Rufus. The time frame this all happened in was so small, probably less than ten seconds. Tseng had been watching the rafters, he had seen Elena’s blonde head pulled out of view by someone clad in black, and he had seen the rifle.

They also managed to get themselves out in record time. Immediately after the shooting Reno and Rude had been on high alert, along with countless SOLDIERs and Shinra guards. Even if the military hadn’t been there, he had enough faith in both his Turks to get the job done, to be highly aware of everything. When it was damn serious, like today, they didn’t miss a thing. They would’ve picked up on somebody suspicious, someone leaving the building in a way that they didn’t want to get caught. His Turks were trained killers, observant, intelligent men – a lot of money and time had gone into training them just so. To have one or more potential killers just slip by unnoticed was unreal. To have them not notice- hell, for him to not notice either…warning bells were going off in his head. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. Something didn’t feel right in his gut.

His job got all the more complicated. Not only was he managing all the investigations and keeping up on all the reports, as of tomorrow morning the President wasn’t leaving his sights. He would wait until the meeting to voice his concerns, but the attack felt too clean, executed nearly perfectly. It felt like an inside job. If that was the case, tomorrow morning when he escorted the President to HQ, Rufus would be packing his necessary belongings and reporting to a safe house. His residence wasn’t safe. If they could get into the Supreme Conference Center, with cameras and military and Turks around, nevermind the thousands of observers, breaking into his manor would be no sweat.

The only reassurance he had right now that the President was in good hands was that he had purposely handpicked the guards, knew the rotational cycles, and knew that even after telling Rufus to get some rest, the blonde man would not be sleeping. Rufus was an intelligent, calculating figure. He would be up in his office all night, trying to piece everything together, figuring out what his next move was going to be. Tomorrow morning he had interviews with six different news networks and he had to decide what to say. Nevermind the footage that was played over and over again on the television – Rufus would be up for another few hours just fuming over that. The mighty President of Shinra Inc showed blatant fear for only a few seconds, but now it was being shown repeatedly for the whole world to see.

To know that the news was exploiting Rufus’ vulnerability angered Tseng as well. He had to add it to the list of things that were pissing him off today. He had known Rufus since he was a boy, and felt protective of him. These were not the images the world should be focusing on. If they wanted real, heart-wrenching news stories, they should bring their cameras and reporters to draw attention to more important things, like Gongaga, a small town still devastated by the explosion of a Mako Reactor. So many loved ones had been lost. That would be a better story than watching Rufus’ blue eyes widen against a blood-splattered face.

Tseng rested his forehead in the palms of his hands, the stitches in his shoulder pulling uncomfortably. The doctors preferred letting his body heal itself rather than speed up his recovery with restore materia. While it might deliver immediate results, in the long run it would break down the body’s ability to regenerate. It was a pain in the ass to be careful not to tear himself open, but the stitches would be out in two weeks. He’d be a free man then.

God damnit, the whole thing made him feel like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff. Usually finding suspects was a quick and painless job, he’d send Rude or Reno to eliminate the targets in time to go out for a beer with them later. There were times in his early career where he had been pushed to his physical limits, but he was responsible only for his own life. If he pulled something stupid, didn’t pay attention and got shot because of it, it was his only his life. Now, if he fucked up, someone far more important than him got shot and he had to live with the weight of that, forever.

Tseng knew in time that if he continued running circles around these criminals, if they eluded his grasp and still made a strong effort to take out the President, he’d face a whole new level of anxiety. Until this case was closed, he would be working, working, working. Eating, sleeping – all that was secondary.

He remembered his mentor from his early years in Shinra. The man that taught him how to kill, manipulate, lead, react. Clearly the man had thought highly of Tseng, and also had been one of the few people on this earth who could read him so thoroughly. “This man is a motherfucker,” he’d say, “you think he’s calm and collected always. Push him into a corner, or push him to his limits and he goes apeshit. Loses it. It’s damn near scary. Killing with his bare hands, you should have seen the crazed look in his eye. You can’t help but admire the power and the rawness there.”

It was a reality Tseng had worked to keep concealed. His Turks relied on him to be the coolly indifferent boss. A man who always knows the next step, who executes his business quietly and effectively. Rufus expected it of him, Heidegger, the former President…he didn’t look or act like someone with a hot temper, no one thought him to be a walking time bomb.

If he got pushed though, if President Shinra came that close again, if whoever was responsible for today kept dancing off the radar…Tseng was bound to lose it sometime. He just hoped that this could be solved in the near future, so that he could spare that side. Sometimes he felt the same as the President, “the less people know about you, the better.”

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Rufus was annoyed. . Aside from the day’s shocking events, he was not looking forward to tomorrow. He intuitively knew that the phone on his desk had a million messages from hungry reporters, practically frothing at the mouth to be the first one to interview him. He also had no doubt that his personal secretary had calls lined up for him from reporters, business associates, and various organizations.

He had also seen the footage plastered all over the news. It made him feel ill. His horrified expression playing over and over again only served to humiliate him.


He had been afraid. And it was caught on film.

Everyone had seen his face. He was not the icy President with the silver tongue anymore. He had emotion, and now the whole world knew. His attackers knew they had shaken him up. Avalanche now knew what it took to put something other than a scowl or a smirk on his face.


He was no longer invincible.

The world now knew that Rufus Shinra, the most wealthy, powerful, and influential man on the planet was human. That he could be scared, that it was possible to rattle him, make him bleed and cry. And it disturbed him, greatly. It made him confront feelings he thought he had buried a long time ago.

His father had drilled it into his mind that emotion was a weakness. Weakness meant he would never hold a position of power, and he was useless without power. He had been trained by the late President to be quick on his feet, to assess everything with a cold eye, to divorce himself from his feelings. He never had a family life – his mother was a mouse and his father was that in name only.

These feelings were ones he had pushed away a long time ago, and to feel them bubbling forth – fear, stress, nervousness, insecurity – brought him back to being a child, beaten for crying. Ignored for days by his father. Trained to fit his father’s ideal image. Robbed of his youth. And ultimately, experiencing these powerful sensations and having absolutely no idea what to do with them, how to react.

There was no one to talk to about this. Normal people knew what to do in the face of humiliation, of worrying. Rufus had been forced to ignore those things, to push them aside. Now they were out there, and the thought of that terrified him even more than getting shot at. He didn’t know what to do.

Drinking seemed like a good idea. Get shitfaced, force himself to forget everything. That wasn’t a solution though, just a temporary fix. It also would cause him more pain in the long run. He had to be up early tomorrow for his first interview, and going in with bloodshot eyes and sallow skin would not give the right impression at all. He had to look the way he usually did, feign boredom, confidence.

If his attackers were even mildly interested in him still, they’d watch the interviews. See if he had lost it. If he could conjure up his icy confidence, they might think he had a lead on them. That it was only a matter of time before they were in Shinra’s hands, at the mercy of the Turks. Yes, give the impression that they had everything they needed to get the criminals by the end of the day.

Although his eyes burned, Rufus could not sleep. He had left the television on, using the news footage as incentive to get himself together. Tseng would arrive in the morning and he didn’t want his most trusted Turk to see such a private side of him. Tseng might lose respect for the man he was willing to die for. After all, his late father had also led him to believe that “respect comes from power, power is born from strength. There is no room for weakness. Emotions are weakness.”

Shutting off his desk light, Rufus moved over to the couch. It was more comfortable than his desk chair and it still allowed him to see the television screen. While his Turks stayed up all night gathering and examining evidence, Rufus aimed to push his weaknesses to the depths of his mind.

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Everyone had arrived on time. Tseng was pleased enough that everyone was taking this as seriously as he. Reno hadn’t disappeared to a bar and come back buzzed. Rude hadn’t either for that matter. Where one went the other was sure to follow. Gomez had been prompt, leaning against one wall, waiting for the meeting to officially start. Tseng leaned his elbows on his desk, regarding each occupant in his office.

“We don’t know who these people are at all. They aren’t part of any known gang in Midgar. I’ve done extensive checks within all the records. There’s no information on a group who works this precise. I have a theory but I want to hear from all of you first. Reno?”

“All the cameramen are douchebags. Apparently getting the action on stage was more important than seeing who tried to kill the President. There was one piece of film that caught my attention though. Before the speech started the camera dude was just looking around, taking in the sights. At one point he had pointed his camera up at rafter A, probably checking out Elena or something. It’s only a split second, I didn’t catch it the first time, but after rewinding and pausing, I noticed something peculiar about one of the SOLDIERs up there. Very small build. More…curvy I guess? Cleavage wasn’t all that obvious but I would say that person was a chick. And chicks aren’t allowed in SOLDIER. She was in on it, and she managed to get a uniform.”

Tseng filed this away as very bad news. You couldn’t just walk in and get a SOLDIER uniform from anywhere. If there was one person masquerading as a SOLDIER, there had to be countless others. Yes, very bad news indeed, and lending more weight to his theory.

“I also noticed something strange within the interrogations.” Rude offered. Tseng had his pen out, scribbling the last of his thoughts on Reno’s report.

“Go on.”

“We went through everyone on the roster for today. Many faces were missing though, even though there was a perfect body count and security check at the beginning of the day.”

“So you’re saying that these people showed up for work, then fell off the radar after that?” Tseng tried to clarify. Rude fussed with his raybands.

“In a way, though throughout the time at the Center the body count was perfect. The correct number of guards were there. I was talking to Gomez about this, we identified the missing people from the interrogation, but they are on the security tapes from the Conference, doing their job.”

“Gomez, what did you find?” Tseng asked. Gomez laid a tape down on Tseng’s desk.

“Something none of you were wanting to hear. I was watching these all day, something didn’t feel right though. The guys that Rude said didn’t show up – they were all monitoring the second floor hallway. Here I have them on camera. It shows regular activity, nothing new, but…the tape is looped.”

Tseng raised an eyebrow, watching Gomez place the tape in his TV.

“To spare you the hours of watching it play out, I’ve fastforwarded it to the place of interest.”

Turning on the television, everyone had gathered close to see what Gomez was talking about. It started up, the recording a dull gray, SOLDIERs standing along the hallway. Rude recognized them to be the people missing from interrogations today.

“Look at this guy here. He’s holding his weapon like everyone else, but he is standing with his weight primarily on his left side. Now,” everyone watched as the SOLDIER slowly shifted his weight onto his right side. “He’s changed sides. Not so much a big deal. However,” Gomez fastforwarded it a few minutes ahead, pressing play again.

“Watch this.” The SOLDIER, weight resting on his right side, suddenly cut back to him favouring his left side.

“Aw fuck…” Reno pulled at his ponytail in frustration. Tseng felt his blood boil over.

“I only discovered this about twenty minutes before coming here. Not sure what you want to do with this information yet. To be able to loop a tape like that can only be done within the security room. The Supreme Conference Center boasts the latest in technology, so it would be next to impossible for a hacker to get into the security systems from outside.”

“My theory,” Tseng said. “Was that this was an inside job. With all the information each of you has gathered tonight proves it.”

“What do we do now?” Rude asked. Tseng’s mind was swimming, wondering what the next step was. Jesus, someone in Shinra? It could be more than one person. That thought was frightening.

“First we try and locate those missing SOLDIERs. Bring them in alive, if possible. Reno, Rude, that’s your job. They could be the ones behind this. Or, the tape was looped because someone planned on taking them out. Reno, you said you saw a female SOLDIER? Someone could have taken the uniform off of one of them and given it to her. We need to find them and figure out what happened.

“Gomez, I want you to find out how many people knew the codes to the security room, and a record of who accessed it that day. I am going to move the President from his estate tomorrow.”

“Moving him to a Shinra safehouse?” Reno asked. Tseng could tell from the tone of his voice that he felt it was a shitty idea, much like he did.

“Since someone in here is committing treason, I want to keep the President away from anything that has to do with Shinra when he’s vulnerable, like on his off-duty hours. I will find a place for him to go where no one, except the people in this room, know where he is.”

“That’s for the best. The President can’t be watching his back 24/7.” Gomez muttered.

“This investigation is going to keep us moving for days. If you feel yourself getting tunnel vision, nauseous, light-headed from lack of sleep, and you will, trust me – you’re entitled to combat sleeps. I can’t have any of you passing out on the job. I need you to be sharp, effective.”

“That goes for you too boss.” Reno interjected. Tseng appreciated the small amount of concern from the younger Turk, but he knew he would be getting less rest than the both of them combined. Someone had to be around at all hours, holding this mission together. Not to mention watching Rufus’ six.

“That’s all, move out.”



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Thank you for reading, more to come soon! Please review, keeps me inspired, I love to hear any advice (or comments)it helps me get better. I'm always striving to become a better writer. The romance will be coming soon, don't you worry!

Yay

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