Paper Tiger Burning

I respectfully credit all Original Creators, namely Squaresoft, which became SquareEnix,for these characters. In this way, I pay homage to my Fandom's Original Creator, and illustrate my Community's belief that Fan Fiction is "fair use". I do not claim to own these characters. I do not make money or gil from using these protected characters, nor do I wish to make money or gil from them. In other words, I am borrowing these characters to entertain the adult fanfiction community, but I am doing so with the highest degree of respect to the engineers, game designers, music makers, and voice actors.




I walked into the bathroom and retrieved the hospital gown and faded ribbon. I turned up the gas on the fireplace to full blast, lit the thing and threw all evidence of the girl’s presence into the grate. Turning, I prepared to get her, but she came into the living room. “I heard some of it,” she confessed. “What shall we do?”

“They must have suspicions only, not a tracker,” I mused aloud. I took her by the arm and tugged her into the bedroom. Not pausing, I phased behind the wall with her. We stood in a space barely a foot wide. “Stay here and be silent,” I said. “I’ll come and get you when they’ve gone.” So saying, I left her, went into the kitchen and put the dishes away. Subterfuge would do me no good if someone happened to notice I’d used two plates this morning.

I checked the fireplace. The gown and ribbon had burned up completely. Grateful it had been a chilly morning I turned on the television and waited. Not ten seconds later I heard the men coming down the hallway.

The search was fast and efficient. I waited in the center of the living room while sweepers tore up my apartment, a soldier with a gun discretely trained on me. Insulted, I waited until someone sounded an all clear, then snatched the rifle out of his hands and made a knot out of the barrel. “I cooperated with this rudeness,” I said. “No one points a gun at me.” Looking at my gaping audience, I motioned them to the door. “If I thought your hands were clean I’d make you put everything back where it belongs,” I said. “The next time you’re asked to come here, I suggest you defer the job to Turks.”

I lingered until every last one had loaded into a SMTV before retrieving my trembling guest. “Sit,” I whispered to her, putting her on the settee, “and stay silent.” I punched Eldon’s number into my cell. “Eldon,” I said when he answered. “I want you to bring my current papers over to my apartment this morning; I want a jump on Monday. Bring that piano cd you were listening to on Friday.”

Eldon understood immediately. “Yes, sir, General Sephiroth,” he answered.

I hung up. Leaning over, I spoke directly into the Cetra’s ear. “Do not speak until this apartment is swept for listening devices.”

She nodded.

I sat down on my couch and waited.

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Eldon’s eyes swept over the room, taking in the Cetra and the mess of my scattered belongings. Without even a blink he took a small device from his briefcase and began walking around my apartment. “The list of current soldier hopefuls is on top,” he said. “The next fifteen files are individual soldiers with bad records, disciplinary measures to be decided upon by you and acted out by you.” He made an arc over my bookcase, nodding his head as the red LED light blinked on his machine. Pointing to a small black dot on the spine of a book, he went on. “New training methods are being pushed by administration; the outlines are on the bottom awaiting your approval or veto.”

“When did these come in?” I asked, watching him run his scanner over the doorway between the living room and the bedroom.

“Late last night.” Eldon tossed me a smile over his shoulder. “Apparently some of the higher ups were burning midnight oil.”

“I see.” I made a crackly audile show of moving papers, thinking that few administrators were higher than me. “Wait here a moment while I look through them and you may go.” I motioned him on to his task while I spoke, giving the papers to the girl on my settee. “Pretend to go through them,” I whispered in her ear.

Eldon found another bug under my bed. He had to crawl under there to spot it and I found myself impressed with his thoroughness.

I followed him into the kitchen, where he found nothing after a good fifteen minutes of combing. We walked back into the living room. I took the papers from the girl and pressed my finger over her lips. She nodded in understanding.

“I’ll walk down with you as far as the lobby,” I said to Eldon. “I need to pick up my mail.”

Eldon stopped me just on the opposite side of my door, pointing up at the decorative plaster above our heads. “No bug,” he muttered, “but a camera. I spotted it as I approached your flat. The whole building is full of them. My indicator vibrated like mad the moment I set foot in the building. How long did it take the sweepers to enter the complex?”

“Ten minutes at the most,” I said, wondering if intuition or knowledge told Eldon that sweepers had planted all this espionage material.

“Then they’re on a lithium battery and will last at least three weeks of continuous use. After that they’ll have to come back.” Eldon reached into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of wire. “Boot your computer at five this evening, and patch in to the office. I’m going to wire the main camera to send a feed back to us. This way we’ll see what they see at least, and we’ll be able to see the people who come to replace the batteries, if they bother.” He shoved the wire back down into his pocket and we began to walk.

“I’d like to take this opportunity to say something to you, sir,” Eldon said as we entered the elevator.

“What is that, Eldon?”

“Good for you. That’s all I need to say.” The smaller man punched the down button and we descended. “Actually, there’s something else. Get a couple of desktop fountains and set them up around your place. They make just the right amount of white noise to block a bug.”

“Feng Shui sounds like a fascinating hobby,” I remarked. “I’ve heard mirrors and fountains are involved.”

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