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Chapter Thirty: R&R

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Staking out the clinic was not so much a daunting task as it was boring.  He wasn't good at thinking of plans to get into the clinic, so the only thing that came to mind was to sit across the street at a café and watch to see if Mejia would exit anytime soon.  It wasn't the most clever plan, but it was simple and pretty much fail safe.  When the café closed, he headed next door to a bar that had a smoking area outside by some tables and chairs and would watch the front entrance for anyone going in or out.

Preventing himself from becoming distracted with drinks, food, and the women bouncing around in bikinis took a lot of effort, but he found pride in keeping himself focused enough to not let someone pass from the building without catching a good glimpse.  Unfortunately, having a good view of the place was useless when it came down to the matter of sleep, and perhaps he didn't think things through that much.  

Graves wasn't that familiar with the workings of clinics or hospitals, but he was assuming that when patients were discharged, it would be during the day.  That means that if Mejia were to sneak out, which he might do while on the run, it would be at night when there were less nurses running about.  But then again, less nurses might mean a heightened attentiveness for the patients at night … so he was unsure when he should at least try and get a few hours of sleep, if any at all.

All of this thinking was driving Graves crazy.  He didn't know to what extent the man was injured, when he would be discharged, or even if he would be discharged.  It could be days to weeks for all he knew.  If it took a while for the man to heal, Graves didn't have enough money to stay at the inn for too long, let alone any time at all, and he couldn't only sleep out on the beach.  He would eventually need a warm bed to sleep in, and a relaxing shower, and that was not something that he could afford.

Faking an injury or illness came to mind, or even drinking himself under the table came to mind, just so he would have a reason to be admitted into the clinic.  Anything to get him back in the rooms and hallways to have a look around.  He was almost hoping that he would catch someone drowning out in the ocean, just so he could bring the person into the clinic and claim they were somehow relatives, but the likelihood of that happening was slim.  

Perhaps he could get into a bar fight and deck someone good, then drag the poor sap into the clinic.  That actually wasn't that bad an idea, and it beat sitting in wait for hours for something to happen.              

Eventually, the bar closed and he was forced to take up watch elsewhere.  He managed to slip between two buildings adjacent to the clinic, and made himself comfortable while he just … waited.  The night passed by slowly, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore almost lulling him into a sleep he so desperately tried to shun.  He was tired – very tired – from his journey, and his body was in a constant fight against his will.  He managed to keep himself awake by circling around the building, looking through any of the windows that might have had their blinds open for Mejia, but most of them were drawn.  And the ones that weren't, the rooms were empty.  

The late night shifted into early morning, the light of the sun began to chase away the dark sky, bringing the warmth and comfort of the tropic weather.  The shops and the few businesses in the town began to open one by one, and yet, the streets remained relatively quiet.  Most of the tourists were sleeping away the effects of the alcohol consumed the night before, resting their bodies for another day of the same indulgence; to continue on with the cycle.

And Graves continued on with his cycle.  As soon as the café opened, he grabbed a coffee the way he liked it – plain and black.  He thought the additives – sugar, syrups, whipped cream – were all pointless and disgusting anyway.  It was like putting steak sauce on a steak to him.  If he had to add steak sauce to a steak, it must not have been a very good cut to begin with.  Just don't eat the damn steak and pick better next time, was how he saw it.  Coffee was the same.  He liked the flavor of coffee itself … not the overpowering sugary crap the barista pumped in.

The same seat he sat in the day before was taken up once again, and he savored his hot beverage before the heat of the sun began to overpower everything and make drinking it unbearable.  He did something he rarely did, which was people watch.  Normally he wouldn't have the patience to sit and just watch people make idiots of themselves as they wandered around, but it was distracting enough to keep him focused.  A strange concept, but if he didn't have something to cause an occasional diversion from something even more boring – sitting in wait – then he might have ditched the entire effort and go lounge around scoping out the women all day.

Which was essentially the same thing, but a little bit more entertaining and tailored to his preferences.

That was when he saw him.  There was no sword, no SOLDIER uniform, nothing that would make him stand out from the crowd, so why his eyes went to him, Graves wasn't sure.  He was just thankful that he did catch a quick glimpse of the man walking from a building across the way towards the beach.  It was making sense to him now, and on second thought, he had thought he remembered seeing him the previous day somewhere, but couldn't recall exactly where or if it was really him.  Possibly seeing him in one of the bars Graves dipped in and out of made a lot of sense, so he didn't dwell on it for too much longer.  His main concern was to stay out of sight.

The small crowd in the streets was thin, so he had a better chance of staying where he was, rather than standing and possibly bringing attention to himself.  That was something that he learned to be wary of from the incident in Kalm.  He didn't regret being spotted by Ratcliff, as that essentially led him to Mejia, and saved Cloud, or so he hoped.  He forced himself to think about Cloud and how bad of shape he looked to be in Kalm.  As much as he didn't want to, he tried to picture the things that might have happened to him, just to fuel his motivation and solidify his resolve.  Whatever he could use in his fight against the man, he would take.

He did feel bad about leaving him there that day, but he had risked too much to stop and lose track of Mejia to see if the boy was all right.  Admittedly, he was doing this for Elici, for his family he left behind, but the more he thought about it, it seemed to be more for himself.  He briefly questioned his motives at one point, but then decided he was better off thinking that it didn't matter why the man should be taken down, it just mattered how and by who.

And as much as he respected the man that walked past him, heading towards the beach with a bored look on his face, he couldn't allow him to be the one that took Mejia down.


~*~*~
The Turks had been hanging around him everyday since he got there.  Admittedly, half of the first day he had been quite buzzed that he didn't recognize the auburn-haired Turk lurking about him.  Had he been sober, he might have noticed her a bit sooner than he did.  Or perhaps, if his mind wasn't so occupied on Cloud and everything else, he might have taken a few extra moments to notice his surroundings instead of going through the motions and not processing anything around him.  

In all honestly, he wasn't so surprised to see her relaxing on the beach a few lounge chairs down on the second day.  She was rubbing tanning oil on her arms and legs, and just casually flashed Zack a sly grin as if to mock him when he looked over at her.  She was no longer hard to miss; that bright yellow bikini drew his eyes over.  She said that their vacations 'overlapped', but Zack didn't believe one word of it.  It was frustrating to him; no one had mentioned Angeal or Genesis lately.  No one even mentioned Mejia or Graves.  Everything was just being glossed over with suspiciously-timed vacations filled with warm sand and alcoholic drinks that could be charged to the expense account.  

Is this how little SOLDIER is worth these days?

Avoiding Cissnei was challenging, especially in such a small resort town.  Avoiding boredom was even more of a challenge, as after four days of this town, he did all he could do.  Bars could only seem appealing for so long before he became sick of alcohol, swimming in the ocean lost its charm when a jellyfish decided to become a bit too curious with him and stung him on the leg, and tanning could only go so far on his already tan skin.

His day had perked up a bit when his cellphone beeped and he realized he was sent a text message.  It was even better when he saw that it was from Kunsel, and his heart raced with excitement over what it could have said, considering how silent his friend had been lately.  But his hopes were dashed as quick as the inbox could open, as all the message said was, 'Sorry, man, been on a mission. Can't tell Cloud.  I'll be back tomorrow.'

Zack nearly crushed his phone in his hand as the realization that Cloud was left in the dark over his whereabouts hit him.  Perhaps he could text Reno and request that he inform Cloud of where he was so the boy didn't worry, but then he remembered that he thought he saw the redhead wandering around somewhere with Tseng in the town.

He was surprised to see Tseng.  At first, he didn't believe it was him; he didn't think that Tseng would be on vacation, and perhaps the man actually took to heart what Zack had blurted out to him as he left his office a few days ago.  It was funny to see Tseng in such a setting wearing his uniform still, and he snorted at the thought of the man actually letting loose and relaxing for a moment, although he probably never would.  Zack had tried to go and pester the man about everything when he saw him at a bar, to ask him how much longer he was to be there for and such, but Cissnei always seemed to swoop in and distract him with booze.  Eventually he lost sight of Tseng, and he hadn't seen him since.  That was two days ago.

Emotions – anger mostly – were running high, and he could do nothing but wait out his time by staring at the ridiculously blue ocean until his eyes hurt.  And he could do nothing but channel those emotions on what he did best – squats, of course.

Normally he wouldn't break a sweat, but the heat of the sun and the amount of squats he had actually done already began to weigh heavily on his stamina, and he grunted with each squat.  He had lost count of how many he completed already, but he assumed it had to be about two hundred, given the stiffness in his knees.  Mako coursed through the fibers in his muscles at the same flow of the frustration in his mind.  One fueled his exercise, the other fueled his musing thoughts.

"Want some oil?"

Zack didn't even bother turning his head.  He knew who was approaching him down the steps.  There hadn't been anyone else socializing with him since he had arrived there.  "I don't need that kind of stuff!" he said between annoyed grunts and squats.  "What the hell is this!?  Have I been left out again!?"

"You could use some R&R," she said with a sympathetic smile.

Zack stopped squatting as she approached him.  He couldn't take it anymore, and he wasn't sure if it was the squats that was tiring him out, or everything else weighing on him.  "I've had enough!" he said, stretching his arms above his head before he let them fall to his sides.  "I think I'll give him a call."  He glanced around to the little lounge area he had been calling home for the past few days for his phone.  He spotted it in the sand nestled between a few empty glasses of some tropical drinks he decided to try.  They weren't bad, and generally he'd stay away from them because sometimes they looked too … unmanly … to be in his hand, so he stuck with beers on any other occasion.  But there weren't many people around to judge him, considering that everyone else seemed to have one in their hand as well.

"Director Lazard's not in," she said, much too casually, which received an interesting expression from Zack as he stopped reaching for his phone.  He looked as if he were expecting her to laugh it off as a joke.  "He's been missing for a while now," she said, continuing despite the look he was giving her.  "It's believed that he's been funding Hollander's research.  With the company's money, no less."

"Are you serious?" he said, his eyebrows raising in disbelief.  

She turned her head to the side, unable to really look at him any longer.  She knew he was having a rough time lately – that was obvious – and she did hope that he could relax somewhat on this vacation, even if it was against his will.  She felt bad for even bringing this up to him, but felt that he deserved some honesty in everything, for what it was worth.  "We're interrogating Hollander, so we should learn more soon."

"What is this?"

She looked back to him as he turned away, staring ahead at the calm ocean, watching as the waves lapped up against the shore.  "Hm?"

"I'm just wondering what everyone is thinking."

"The truth lies within each person.  But even the truth seems suspect … once it leaves their mouths...."

Zack scoffed.  He found that very ironic, especially coming from a Turk.  But it was true.  Zack was losing the ability to have faith.  He felt that things were spiraling out of his control, and yet no one was asking for his help for anything.  Not his friends, not Shin-Ra … not even Cloud, the one person who he thought would.  Things had been so open between them before everything … but now ….

He couldn't think of many more people that he could confide in, let alone trust.  The only person that came to mind was Sephiroth.  He seemed neutral throughout everything, perhaps even understanding of the situations.  The man might not have shown much interest in things with his personal life, but the little bit that he did made him seem favorable towards Zack's troubles.  Maybe, if he caught the man on a good day, he could request that he send a message to Cloud ….  

"Cissnei, go do something," he said, waving her off before he turned around to reach for his phone.

Cissnei crossed her arms, a small smirk appearing on her face.  "Calling Aerith?"

Zack whipped around, shocked – not at the fact that she thought he was going to call Aerith, but at the fact that she even knew about his old girlfriend in the first place.  "How do you know that?  Am I being watched or something?"  Of course he was, it had been so painfully obvious, but he hoped that if he took the opportunity to let them know that he knew, perhaps the Turks would back off.  

"No, she's the one being watched."

"Huh?"  He was not expecting that answer, and even though they weren't together anymore, something about that still didn't sit right with him.

"That girl is an Ancient, the only one left in the world.  You didn't know?"

"She … never said anything."  He turned and faced the ocean, a cool breeze blowing across his bare chest.  It smelled good, but there was something off.  He couldn't quite put his finger on it.  The air suddenly felt … thick.  "The only one … left in the world, huh …?"  

I wonder if Cloud feels like that lately.  Alone, isolated ….


~*~*~
It was impressive to actually stand close to the fence and watch the SOLDIER recruits go through the obstacles.  It felt surreal to be the one standing on the outside and looking in, given that he had been one of the ones on the inside once, going through all those motions, pushing himself as far as his body and mind would allow.  Granted, it wasn't SOLDIER, but the concept was the same with the infantry division.  Seemingly impossible feats would be placed in front of them, and the men would have to detach themselves from their limitations and reach just an inch past to gain a standing – some worth – in the eyes of the superiors observing them.

They were modified, then molded.  Once individuality was stripped away, they were pushed to become something not of man, not even something with value.  Puppets – that was often how some of the men described themselves feeling in the army.  And the men that ran by Cloud as he stood and watched each looked as if they were mindlessly following one path, for one purpose.  

But despite that, he could clearly distinguish each person that passed by.  Each of the men wore the same exact PT gear, but the bodies beneath were each unique.  Regardless of how they looked, he knew that each man had a different story in their life, each had a different reason for doing what they were doing at that moment.  From afar, they did look all the same, but he could clearly see every one of them now.

The men finished their run through the obstacle course and assembled off a little ways from where Cloud was standing and observing.  He could hear a little bit of what one of the operatives was saying to the men, and it seemed as if they were being dismissed for a break of some sort.  They disbanded and a few chose to run through the course again, while a few walked off the exercise around the enclosed compound.

A small group passed by him, and he suddenly felt silly for standing there watching, but he had seen other people do it before, so it wasn't that strange.  He nodded respectfully to them as they passed and they just seemed to ignore him.

One stopped, however, and turned back around.  "Hey, got a cigarette?"

Cloud stiffened, but more out of attention and habit than out of fear.  "No, sir.  Sorry, sir."

"That's too bad.  Well, not for you.  That's good for you, bad for me."

"Yes, sir."

"You've been standing there for a while.  Saw you out here yesterday too.  Don't you have infantry shit to do?"

Cloud groaned in his head.  He hated admitting that he was on light-duty, especially to one that was a superior, technically.  And he couldn't exactly say he was on liberty while in full uniform.  "No, sir.  I'm on light-duty."

"Ah, a broke dick."

Cloud also hated that term.  It was coined to anyone who was injured, or quite possibly faking an injury to get out of training and missions.  He had nothing to say in reply to that, but just frowned.

The SOLDIER scoffed a laugh, shaking his head.  "If you can't handle a stupid name, then you can't handle this, Broke Dick.  Go back to your office, and leave the daydreaming to someone who can take this on," he said almost playfully, despite the words he used.  He smiled a little at him, and perhaps it was his twisted way of motivating the cadets he came across.  Cloud preferred Zack's methods a little bit better.

"Speaking of that, may I ask you something, sir?"

"I dunno, you didn't have a cigarette for me.  I might not be willing to answer."

"Are you serious, sir?" Cloud said, trying to suppress the annoyance in his voice.

"Buy me some cigarettes and I'll tell you whatever you want."

"I can't buy you cigarettes, sir.  I'm not old enough."

"Aw shit, guess you're outta luck then, Broke Dick."

Cloud rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the ground in defeat.  "Yeah, I guess so."

"Naw, I'm just joking.  What do you wanna know?"

"Really?"  Cloud's head shot up quickly, and he winced a little.  His head had been constantly aching for the past few days, but it was starting to go away, just not as fast as he would have liked.  He tried taking an over the counter pain reliever for it, but it didn't help much.

"Calm down.  Yeah, you gotta make it quick though.  The longer I stand here the more the guys will think we're flirting."

"Sorry … I just wanted to know if there was a man named Graves in there with you guys."

"Graves?"  He fell silent for a moment, thinking.  "Can't say that the name sounds familiar.  But, kid, we got like a hundred or so recruits running around.  Can't remember all their damn names."

Cloud glanced around the compound, estimating the number of men that he could see.  "Looks about half, though …."

"Well, no shit, Broke Dick.  We're split into two units.  He could be in the other one.  The other unit gets the field in the morning, we get it in the afternoon.  Probably why you haven't seen him when you've been out here."

"Oh, maybe …."

"That all?"

The men behind in the compound began to migrate back towards the barracks, and Cloud could hear someone shouting orders in that direction.  "Oh, yeah, thanks."

"If you come across a cigarette, bring it to me.  They don't let us have them while we're in boot camp."  The guy began to turn to head back, but stopped when Cloud began to speak again.

"Sure thing … uh … If you come across a big guy named Graves, can you tell him …."

The SOLDIER peered at him with a raised eyebrow, whether that was from anticipation of what he was going to say, or whether it was from annoyance over his hesitation, Cloud couldn't tell.

He couldn't think of much that would be of any significance.  Maybe a simple hello, maybe the apology he still owed him …  "Tell him … Strife said congrats," was all he could think of and finally say.

The SOLDIER just nodded and walked off to join the rest of the recruits.

Cloud made his way back to the medical ward slowly, timing the trek perfectly.  He wasn't hungry today and had skipped his lunch so he could get a closer look at the SOLDIERs, which proved almost pointless.  He would try again in the morning, possibly skipping breakfast to make it down there in time.  

He missed Graves quite a bit, and he didn't think that he would.  The guy might have been crude and hard to get along with at times, but Cloud did enjoy the man's company for the most part.  He was amusing to talk with, and always served as a good distraction for when his group of friends were feeling unmotivated or down.  Whether it was getting Elici to laugh at something he normally wouldn't have, or Ratcliff to turn red with embarrassment over a very dirty joke, he never failed at making the day seem a little bit brighter.

And that was what Cloud needed that day, rather, the past few days.  Working in the office was proving to be mentally taxing, and the part-time receptionist seemed to be getting worse the more that Cloud was struggling with learning the job.  The moment he would get the hang of something, she would take that as her cue to slack off and hide in the corner with either a nail file or her cellphone.  She had even left the office for forty-five minutes when her boyfriend had showed up, and she wasn't even on a break.  That was during a busy part of the day whenever in the company seemed to have some sort of business in that office … or at least, that's how it felt to Cloud.

His patience was growing very thin with her, and towards the end of the day he actually found himself standing to speak with the psychologist about the woman's work ethic, but he got to the door to her office and couldn't fight off the feeling of dread.  So he turned back around and sat down at the front desk while the part-timer was poking around in the computer, doing absolutely nothing that she probably should have been doing.

The only thing that kept him going was that it was only a few more hours until the office closed, he would have Sunday off, and hopefully would be reassigned by Monday.  There hadn't been any word on a change of duty, and as far as he knew, he would have to be back there at eight a.m. come Monday morning.  In the army, no news did not necessarily mean good news, but meant for the men to just keep doing what they were doing, no questions asked.

Time ticked by slowly, but eventually the lights were being turned off with heavy sighs, and even yawning from the part-timer, which was completely undeserved.  Cloud only lingered around long enough to ask the psychologist if she had heard if he was going to be needed on Monday, to which she just smiled and said he was more than welcome to continue to help out.  As if he had a choice.

He stopped by Zack's apartment again with high hopes that he would be there, but after a few knocks Cloud realized he wasn't there for the third day in a row.  He wondered what type of mission that he could have been on, and it finally clicked in his head that it must have been what Zack was wanting to talk to him about the other day when he ran away from him.  Cloud felt stupid for thinking his previous thoughts of Zack wanting to possibly break ties off with him, when all it was was simply informing him that he would be gone.  But for how long, Cloud wasn't sure.

But despite this realization, Cloud still leaned up against the wall in hopes that he would return.  He told himself that he wouldn't wait for too long.


~*~*~
"Zack?"

Zack looked back from the ocean as a small breeze picked up, and his eyes needed to refocus on her as the light from the sun reflecting off the waters burned itself into his vision, hazing it.  Cissnei was staring ahead to the ocean as well, her arms still crossed over her chest, her own eyes slightly narrowed from the sunlight.

"That girl in the slums … she's not the only one being watched …."

"Oh?"  He peered at her intently, his hands going to his hips.  She had a look of wanting to speak, wanting to tell him about everything that she probably knew but couldn't say.  He waited for her to continue, but his mind already began rolling and producing possible answers.

"That … cadet …."

His eyebrows raised on his face, and he fully turned to face her now.

" … They're concerned about him."

"As in …?"

"Shin-Ra."

Zack scoffed, digging his heels into the warm sand as if widening his stance, perhaps to look offended or possibly challenging.

"But it's not really about him."

"So I've noticed," Zack said, throwing his arms out as he motioned around.  "If it had been about him, he'd be the one on a relaxing vacation, and not me."

Cissnei smirked a little at his behavior and tone.  "With Lazard gone, they're really going to be watching you now."

Zack threw his arms out towards her.  "So I've noticed."

She covered her mouth with her hand and tried to repress the chuckle that threatened to come out.  "You're not enjoying my company?"

"I'd rather have different company right now, under different circumstances."

"I see."

"Look, why are you telling me this?  It's not like I haven't figured anything out.  I don't know if you guys think I'm stupid, but I'm not that naïve puppy anymore."  He went back to looking ahead at the waters and he watched as a ship set sail from the docks.  The horn blew loudly, and it pierced through the air, causing a few birds nearby to stir and take flight.  "Why can't you guys understand that I wouldn't do anything to cause him more harm?"

"It's precautionary, Zack," she said casually, and she watched as the birds settled back down on top of some of the beach umbrellas, as some perched along the wooden fence lining the beach.  A few chirped and began to ruffle their feathers in content as a misty gust of wind breezed over them.

"I think you're missing my point," he said, his voice becoming very annoyed-sounding, very quickly.  "I mean I'm not going to run off and do something stupid.  So stop watching us."

"I think you're missing my point, Zack.  It doesn't matter.  We'll be watching you no matter what."

"I can take care of him.  I can take care of myself."

Cissnei sighed a little, her mouth pursing off to the side in thought.  "No, you can't, Zack.  That's the thing."

He whipped his head back to glare at her, and he couldn't stop himself from baring his teeth.  "What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"

"If you could take care of yourself, you wouldn't have got caught stealing that cadet's medical file off the boss' desk."

"… You … Tseng … he knew about that …?"

"He watched you in the reflection of the window," she said simply.

"Damn."

She chuckled, amused.  "Right before you told him to go take a vacation."

His gaze once more took on the vast ocean before him, noticing that the waters were becoming a little bit more choppy.  A few whitecaps were forming on the surface, riding the waves the length of the shore before they slipped onto the sand.  "Goddamn Big Brother …."

"Just think of it as extra protection."

"You mean a short leash."

"Call it what you want, it still doesn't change anything."

The realization of what Cissnei was saying started to finally sink in, and his mind began to race.  What exactly would this mean to them both as individuals, as friends, and as a couple?  How much was Shin-Ra planning to watch them and for how long?  Could the company really afford to have their elite follow them around for much longer?  He couldn't imagine how much more involved they could be getting into his affairs, and for all he knew, they could be installing cameras into his apartment while he was away.  It was a ridiculous thought, and yet it didn't seem entirely improbable.

But Cissnei was right.  With Lazard gone, he could only wonder how things would play out for the both of them from that point on.  Just seeing the look on Cloud's face when Cissnei had showed up at his place looking for him … Zack didn't want to know what he would look like, or how he would react, if he only knew that they had been watching him and were planning on continuing watching him.

And technically, Zack was one of the people watching him with the reports he filed in with the psychologist.  To him, somehow it was different.  Perhaps he was just trying to tell himself – to convince himself – that it was different, that what he was doing was to protect Cloud, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it wasn't right.  But what was he supposed to do?  What could he do?  Left to his own devices, he felt useless – stranded, lost.

Sometimes he felt as if he wouldn't be able to take care of him, mentally or emotionally.  It had been hard staying strong, especially with his own issues going on, but he had managed to push them aside, to force them down like they hadn't even existed, all to concentrate on Cloud and his problems.  Priority, support, trust … would any of that even be good enough to help him …?

I still need looking after.  I guess I still sorta am that puppy ….

"You're on vacation right now, don't be so glum."

Zack looked back to Cissnei, and she was giving him a smile that looked restrained.  It must have been hard for her at times, as he could tell she was interested in him, whether it be just as a friend or something more, but she had a duty to uphold.  Crossing any sort of line into anything more than colleagues was most likely prohibited for the Turks, even if it was to simply comfort him.  But Reno had done it, and now she was doing it.

"Why are you telling me all this?"     

She smiled a little more, but paused for a moment before she spoke slowly, yet confidently.  "Think of it as … an apology for ruining your breakfast the other morning."

He found himself scoffing again, but was unable to really say anything in reply.

A silence fell between them for a little while, and their gaze once more fell onto the ocean.  The waters looked disturbed, the movement of the waves becoming rough and churned from below.  Zack frowned; it was much too early in the day for high tide, but the water swelled far onto the shore, leaving the seafoam crackling against the sand.

The birds around them suddenly stirred, taking to the skies once again with chirps that were frightened.

"Heads up!"       

Their gaze was torn away from the frantic birds above to the stone steps where Tseng was running down, pointing ahead to the ocean.  They searched his expression, trying to make sense of the urgency in his voice and his face.

"Genesis copies!"

Zack turned as figures began to burst from beneath the surface of the water, dragging themselves onto the shore.  They were copies that he had never seen before, donned in strange dark suits with breathing apparatuses.  They casually slung what Zack could only assume were rifles over their shoulders, and they waited.

"Cissnei, come with me, they're attacking the town from the dock!" Tseng said, starting up the stairs again with Cissnei following.

"Take care of these, Zack!  And have fun."  She trotted up the stairs and disappeared into a panicky crowd.

"Finally!" Zack said, reaching out and grabbing the only thing he could think of using to fend these things off.  A beach umbrella was unsheathed from the warm sand and a readied stance was taken.  "Now this is the type of R&R that I like!"  


~*~*~
Seeing Zack was unnerving, so Graves had decided to watch him from afar for a bit to try and discern why he was there.  The man had spent most of that morning on the beach, first just lying idly in the sun, then consuming a few drinks, more idle time tanning, and then began to do an impressive bout of squats.  

There was now a woman talking to him.  He had recognized her, and at first he couldn't put his finger on her identity.  He thought that perhaps she was an old girlfriend of his, but the only ones he could remember Zack having was … well, he never really did remember.  He only got to know Zack when Cloud began to befriend him.  He had seen the man around, of course, and even worked with him a few times, but Zack never bragged about any women.  Maybe he was just secretive.

But this woman, she didn't look like she was familiar with Zack in the way that Graves was suspecting at first.  There seemed to be an uncomfortableness between them, and it took him a while to realize who she was by the way they interacted.  Despite being in a resort and both in swim wear, the presence of professionalism from the woman made him remember that she was one of the Turks, and now he was even more unnerved.

He no longer bothered himself to try and think of a reason why they would both be there, and what became his current priority was getting to Mejia before they did, whether that was their intent or not.

The day had been hot, so he wore a tank top and tucked away his shirt into his seabag, then tucked his nervousness away behind his resolve.  The clinic was in view, no plan was in mind, however.  He made his way towards it, looking over to the bar when he heard a woman scream.  He watched as a man in a black suit ran past towards the beach, followed by a swarm of frantic people.

Panic broke as strange humanoids emerged from the direction of the docks, carrying over their shoulders guns that were soon removed and aimed towards the crowd in the streets.  Rhythmic bursts tore through the screaming, and shops were swarmed, the bar overrun, people began to scatter any which way they could for safety.

Graves cursed as the crowd flooded towards him, and he was forced with the flow into the clinic.  The nurses behind the front counter stood in confusion as the last of the people filled in and the doors were shut.  Gunshots could still be heard coming from the streets along with the sounds of crying and fear.  The doors thumped with more people scrambling for refuge, but then the shouts of panicked denies came from the men holding the doors shut from the inside.

More shouting from the clinic staff as a few wounded people were dragged towards the front desk and order was attempted to be established, but went ignored.  Patients were urged back into their rooms, carts of supplies were hurriedly wheeled out, all of the attention was towards the front.

Graves grinned to himself and slipped down the hallway, walking comfortably past the rooms, taking time to look into each and every one as the staff merged away.  He ignored the patients that were climbing out of their beds to ask him what had happened as he rounded a corner to a quieter part of the clinic.  He entered the ward and walked past a desk where a nurse sat and jabbed at the phone, most likely trying to call the front to see what happened.  He looked over his shoulder as the man stood and ran off when he couldn't get through.  

Now Graves' pace was calm as each room was inspected.  The doors were closed down this ward, perhaps it was intensive care, so he had to look through a tiny glass window to see inside.  A few were empty, but he came upon one that the curtain was drawn along the track halfway, and he could see the shuffling of a body on the bed.  

But there was a Shin-Ra standard issue seabag sitting in the corner of the room, with a broadsword leaning against the wall.  Most SOLDIERs had more respect for their sword and usually would lay it down in a sheath, or display it properly.  But Mejia always seemed to have a sort of disrespect for his sword, and relied heavily on magic, and sometimes even handguns when out on missions.  When higher-ups weren't looking, of course.

Graves slipped his seabag off his shoulder and set it by the door.  He then took in a slow and controlled breath as his hand went to the doorknob.  He was going to get this bastard.  He was going to take him down any way that he could.


~*~*~*~*~*~

… To be continued in Chapter Thirty-One: Impulse.