Unsynced, Chapter 12

[sinnatious]

Title: Unsynced, Chapter 12

Summary: FF7. Someone in ShinRa HR mixed up assignments, and Kunsel gets sent to Nibelheim instead of Zack.

Author’s Note: I was a lot less nervous about the unfinished state of this fic before I realised more than two people were reading it. Thank you so much for all the lovely comments though. Hope you enjoy this chapter.


Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11

__________

Chapter 12

__________

Rapier clashed with broadsword, skittering along its edge, sending sparks flaring. At the last moment Kunsel ducked and swooped under the blade, pushing it up and wide with the motion. Rather than take the strike, though, he hopped back with an easy grin. “Commit to the swing or I’ll turn it against you. Good leverage and angle is all you need to switch your defence into offence.”

The warm afternoon sun beat on their backs, soothed only by a faint breeze rolling in from the north. Even this early, the horizon was stained a vivid red by pollution drifting over from Midgar.

Cloud huffed in disappointment, fixing his stance. “Again?” he asked, though the word came through breathless.

Kunsel had already started swaddling the rapier in cloth again – until he could find an appropriate sheathe, it was the only way he could disguise the distinctive blade. “That’s enough for now. Don’t rush it, you’re still recovering.”

“I can keep going.”

“Sure you can. But you’ve made plenty of progress today already, why push it?” If it were a standard lesson, normal circumstances, Kunsel might have pressed them both to exhaustion, but he was leery of expending energy they might need for an unexpected getaway. And even then, Cloud had only gained full lucidity little more than a week ago – and sometimes still Kunsel caught him in the throes of delusions or confusion which he would then have to be gently coaxed out of. He didn’t want to push it, not when things were finally improving.

There was gaps in his memory ­– chasms – but bit by bit the Cloud Strife he remembered was slowly re-emerging.

“…If you say so.” With a groan, Cloud pulled the helmet from his head. “How do you fight in this thing? The range of vision is even worse than the trooper helmets.”

“It doesn’t fit you quite as well, is all. Put it back on until we’re back at the inn at least.”

Cloud grumbled but acquiesced after wiping the sweat from his brow. Kunsel wished for his own, but Cloud was currently using his – the spare they’d pilfered forgotten back at the crater, and Cloud being the more distinctive between them. Kunsel was fairly certain his photo ID was the only picture ShinRa had of him without his full uniform, and had never been so thankful that he’d been such a stickler for rules before Nibelheim.

Cloud offered the hilt of his broadsword back, but Kunsel shook his head. “Keep it.”

“But-”

“You’re more than good enough with it already.” He wasn’t kidding, either – he’d started with these exercises mostly as a form of physical therapy and a means of getting Cloud used to a mako-enhanced body, but even after only a couple of days he could tell Cloud was a natural with a sword, the same way Zack was. It was raw talent yet, unrefined, but Kunsel still found himself surprised that Cloud had failed the exams. Had his strength been that lacking before Hojo’s unwelcome treatments? “And I’d feel better knowing you have a weapon if ShinRa catches us off guard again.”

He held the broadsword almost reverently now. “…Thanks.” With more care than it warranted, he slung it on his back. He eyed Genesis’s rapier, now fully wrapped, but didn’t remark on it beyond a thoughtful glance.

“We’ll get you some more materia practice soon as well,” Kunsel promised, ignoring the unspoken query. “You might not be a SOLDIER officially, but we’ll turn you into one yet.”

Cloud grimaced. “Do you have to keep bringing that up?”

Kunsel laughed, because anything else and his voice might have cracked. “You’d barely woken up and were wearing a SOLDIER uniform, it was an understandable mistake… which I will never let you live down.”

Shiva, he felt like every moment he was walking a tightrope. But it was worth it – so worth it, to have Cloud meet his eyes and smile, however tentatively, like he had back when they first met in the back of a truck on the way to Nibelheim. He was stuck with the mako eyes and super-strength, and yeah, was more than just a little traumatised, but he was aware, coherent, and most importantly, improving.

Things were looking up for the first time in… at least four years. And if that wasn't a depressing thought about the current state of their lives, he didn't know what was.

Cloud shook his head in wonder as they started walking back to town. “It still scares me. I can’t – even now, when I try to remember…”

Kunsel sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t know you very well before. There’s not much more I can fill in.” He wished he could bring up some happy stories for the guy, more than the odd highly-embellished anecdote gleaned from Zack and the gossip picked up in the course of that mission.

"No, you've... you've been really great. It's okay," Cloud hurried to assure him. “Maybe I can’t remember much but I know… it’s just there, I can’t explain it.” He made a sound of frustration.

“Don’t be in such a rush. I’m just happy you’re back with us at all.”

As they headed back into Kalm he steered the conversation to lighter chit chat. Kalm itself had turned out a better idea than he hoped – despite its proximity to Midgar, or perhaps because of it, ShinRa didn’t have any personnel stationed there, but their presence was not so rare that a pair of SOLDIERs appeared out of place. At some point the Mines had been closed and the town half-deserted, and the people remaining were largely inclined to mind their own business.

They returned to the inn just as the sun set, turning not just the horizon but the entire sky a chilling blood red. “Much luck with the patrols today boys?” the innkeep greeted them.

Kunsel gave an easy shrug. “Nothing happened at all, which is exactly what you want in a patrol. Anything interesting happen in town?”

The innkeep laughed heartily. “Much the same. Dinner’s served at the bar in 15 mins if you’re eating here. You’re our only customers at the moment so let us know now if you’re not interested. We’ve got dessert today as well.”

“Well we can’t turn that down, count us in,” Kunsel called over his shoulder as he thumped up the stairs.

“You’re magic,” Cloud said as soon as they were in the privacy of their room. “When we first got here half the town acted like we were dangerous snakes. Now they’ve literally started baking us cookies.”

“SOLDIER is weird like that,” Kunsel mused. “In Midgar the First Classes are basically celebrities, but outside of Midgar, or heck, even below Plate, people tend to be a bit scared of you at first. Takes a while for them to warm up to you sometimes.”

“That wasn’t exactly my point.” Cloud dropped the helmet on the bed, picking up a towel to wipe the sweat from his face and neck. “Although aren’t we worried about ShinRa finding us? We’re not really hiding like this.”

“Hiding in the countryside evidently didn’t protect us last time,” Kunsel said, closing his eyes against the memory. That rain soaked bloody field would haunt him just as surely as Nibelheim’s flames. “Plus, now that you’re better, it’s easier to blend in. Nothing weird about a couple of SOLDIERs on a mission.” He flashed Cloud a quick grin, and hoped it looked more reassuring than it felt. “And the Turks aren’t likely to expect it.”

They would have to move on eventually, of course. But it gave them time to find their feet, to get Cloud’s head on right, and let any trails grow cold again. It let Kunsel gather information too – Kalm wasn’t the best place for it, but it was leagues better than the middle of the wilderness.

To that point, when they headed back down for dinner, Kunsel situated them near the television, mounted on the wall. It was small and the picture grainy, but knowing ShinRa’s propaganda was useful. And if they announced any manhunts in the area, Kunsel wanted to know about it, preferably before the rest of the town.

Cloud focused quietly on his food, watching the television while Kunsel made small talk with the innkeep and his wife. They were more than happy to trade local gossip for SOLDIER stories, and while Kunsel was rather short on recent tales he had more than enough harmless old anecdotes to share.

“Of course,” he ended after a particularly scandalous story about a mission gone awry due to Scarlett trying to cover up an affair with a Security Department Officer, “the best part was getting bonus leave for Costa Del Sol afterwards. Purely coincidental, of course.”

“Typical ShinRa,” the innkeep laughed. “You done with that? Here, let me get those dishes before the wife gets on my case for chatting instead of working.”

“Thanks for the meal,” Kunsel offered. He switched his attention back to the television. “Did I miss anything good?” he asked Cloud.

Cloud didn’t respond – his blue eyes wide.

Kunsel followed his gaze.

‘TERRORISTS CAPTURED AFTER BLOWING UP REACTOR.’

Shiva, someone had actually blown up a Reactor? Kunsel was jealous. The footage of smoke drifting from the ruined Reactor was vicariously satisfying. Let ShinRa hurt a little.

Then he registered the mugshots the news was posting along the bottom of the screen.

“Tifa,” Cloud breathed.

Kunsel snuck a glance at the innkeep, but he was occupied in the kitchen, safely out of earshot. “She survived?” he whispered, then felt stupid for it, because obviously she had. And had gone on to become an activist. “AVALANCHE?”

Cloud didn’t respond.

‘President Rupert ShinRa, of the ShinRa Corporation, has indicated that one week from today the terrorists will be held responsible with the highest possible level of punishment. To quote: ‘To keep Midgar safe, we have to send a message of zero tolerance to these kinds of extremists.’’

Odin’s balls.

“Since when did ShinRa start doing public executions?” Assassinations, yes. Capturing ‘dead or alive, preferably dead’, yes. And plenty of their other enemies would mysteriously disappear. Publicly announcing executions though – that was something new over these last four years. They hadn’t even done that during the Wutai War.

“We have to save her,” Cloud said. There was steel in his voice – the same steel he’d heard in those blurred words in the Nibelheim reactor. “We can’t let Tifa die.” The again hung in the air, unspoken.

They’d thought her dead. Thought everyone in Nibelheim dead. And Cloud had just got her back.

Kunsel’s stomach dropped.

They were in Midgar, though. Not even just Midgar – surely being held in the very belly of the beast, ShinRa headquarters itself.

Cloud stared him in the eyes. Almost pleading, but Kunsel was somehow sure if he said no, Cloud would go anyway.

He didn’t remember the lab, not like Kunsel did.

“Okay,” he found himself saying, as though someone else was controlling his mouth and he only heard the words after they left it. “It’s… probably about time anyway. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow.”

Cloud wasn’t the most expressive guy, but even Kunsel could see the relief breaking across his face with those words. More than that, faith. For whatever absurd reason, he obviously thought that the two of them could break into ShinRa and retrieve his friend unscathed.

And Kunsel couldn’t bear to let him down. Not after letting him down so many times already.

Genesis’s rapier felt unnaturally heavy at his side.

…………………….

It was somewhat unfitting for a Turk to be in a perpetual state of panic.

Not that Tseng ever showed that panic. He was like a waterbird – forever smooth and calm on the surface no matter how madly he was paddling underneath. Much of the job was about appearances. Merely looking like you were in control of the situation often had an incredible way of delivering that control to your hands.

“Why wasn’t SOLDIER brought into this earlier, Tseng?” Zack accused.

Tseng still hadn’t quite recovered from the near heart attack he’d suffered when he’d learned that Zack had gone haring off to the Grasslands with an entire battalion out of the blue. That Genesis had finally been dealt with once and for all was of course relieving, along with the closure it had surely brought Zack, but there were still far too many questions for the Turk’s taste.

“The fault is ours,” Tseng said. “Our intelligence had pegged the group as largely dealt with and disbanded, the only remnants being rumour and propaganda.”

“…Until they blew up a Reactor.”

“Until they blew up a Reactor,” Tseng agreed.

Who had given Zack that anonymous tip?

It felt far too tidy for Tseng’s sensibilities. But with the Reactor explosion, he didn’t have the resources available to follow it up properly. He was spinning plates at this point, merely attempting to stop them all crashing down around their ears.

Zack huffed, poking at the coffee machine in the corner of Tseng’s office. He’d calmed down over the past few years, was a little less hyper, but still prone to the same old restlessness, the need to be doing something. “We caught them after the fact, at least. But why the big fuss? The interior of the Reactor was unmanned, nobody died, normally you’d just lock them up right? Rather than turning them into martyrs for a cause.”

“We’re hoping to flush out any other members of their band in a rescue attempt,” Tseng explained levelly, folding his hands in his lap as he leaned back from the desk. “And AVALANCHE has proven difficult to demolish in the past. We’d rather not leave splinter elements behind this time, so have been ordered to act with extreme prejudice.”

Zack’s face pinched at that, but he didn’t comment. He was practical, at least, in regards to ShinRa’s enemies – the Wutai War had made him and so many other SOLDIERs so. Tseng watched carefully though, and exerted what influence he could to protect the SOLDIER’s sensibilities.

There were politics involved, however. Politics above even Tseng’s head.

“To that end, we’re requesting a SOLIDER guard on the detention level,” Tseng said. “The best you can spare.”

Zack gave him a suffering sigh. “That’s a given. I already spoke to some guys about it. We’re doing a roster for 24/7 coverage.”

Tseng idly thought the main reason why Zack was still so revered within his own department was that he still spoke as though they were all teammates rather than simply handing out orders as was his right. “I appreciate it. Heidegger’s people I feel are not… properly equipped.”

“Of course not, that guy had a gun for an arm. And I heard that girl put one of yours into hospital. Crazy martial artist or something.”

“Reno exaggerates,” Tseng assured him. “He mostly went with the excuse to flirt with the nurses.”

Zack laughed at that. The Turk was heartened by the sound – it had been all too rare since Cissnei’s death. “I’ll go chase up that roster then. Send through any more intelligence you have on this group. I don’t want my guys fighting this blind just because of your weird need for secrecy.”

“I’ll send Elena with everything we have,” Tseng promised.

Zack gave him a short nod and left the office.

It wasn’t the whole truth, of course. Veld, Fuhito… AVALANCHE was full of skeletons for both the Turks and ShinRa as a whole. It had been, until now, as much as a strictly Turk operation as they could make it. The only silver lining he could find so far was that only Barret Wallace appeared to have any connection with the original form of the organisation, and that connection was tenuous at best.

He stared tiredly at the accumulating pile of reports on his desk. Reno’s injuries, while not serious, had left them short-staffed as well. Elena had stepped in to fill Cissnei’s shoes, but was far too green yet. Tseng was already trusting her with more than he felt comfortable with.

“Rufus,” he muttered. “You’d better not be involved in this.”

……………………..

Midgar loomed before them, a growing giant that blotted out the sun. The shade from its walls stretched far across the wastes, and the air grew chilly as the truck moved into their shadow.

“Not far now,” the farmer called back to them. “But looks like there’s gonna be a holdup!”

“What kind of holdup?” Kunsel called back over the rattling engine. The highway noise from the back of the truck bed made it hard to hear.

“Some sort of traffic jam, or traffic stop?” The truck slowed to a crawl. “Hope it don’t take too long, wanted to complete my run before dark tonight.”

Kunsel shifted, leaning around the side of the truck to get a clear view. Vehicles were backed up on both sides of the highway, swarms of people moving down the lines of stopped traffic.

“…Roadblock?” Cloud asked softly over his shoulder. “Is it us they’re looking for?”

Kunsel swore under his breath, looking back the way they’d come. This close to the walls there was no cover for a retreat – the Wastes had hardly any to speak of. They would have to act fast, and precisely. “It doesn’t matter what they’re looking for, we can’t let them notice us,” Kunsel replied, thoughts whirling. “Stay close and follow my lead.”

It was just the normal Security Forces – not even ShinRa had the manpower to spare Turks and SOLDIERs on traffic stops. Which meant it was all drill and routine mixed in with the sloppily organised chaos of Heidegger’s operations where the left hand of security had no idea what the right hand of intelligence was doing.

Kunsel could work with that.

They waited in nervous silence as the truck slowed at last to a complete stop, and the sounds of officials on speaker systems grew louder than the sounds of the engines. It was all in the timing. Too soon, and there was too high a chance of being spotted prematurely. Too late, and they’d notice them leaving the truck.

“Hey,” Kunsel said to the farmer who’d given them the lift from Kalm. “We’re going to go see what this is all about, they might need our help. Thanks for the ride this far, but we’ll hitch a lift the rest of the way with ShinRa.”

“Ain’t no trouble boys, more hands’ll make it go faster!” the farmer agreed cheerily.

Kunsel hopped off the back of the flatbed, Cloud following a moment later. He’d chosen the moment as carefully as he could, with the fewest eyes turned their way.

Then he and Cloud simply walked down the line of cars like a pair of SOLDIERs on business. As though they were part of the roadblock themselves.

“Really?” Cloud asked in a low voice as they walked past a trio of troopers moving to the next car. One of them looked to Kunsel, who waved him on with a distracted glance. “We’re just going to… walk on through?”

“Look busy. Look annoyed,” Kunsel muttered. “This is a waste of valuable SOLDIER time.” Kunsel made a show of stopping and peering into the back of a truck, before shaking his head and moving on. He shouldered past a pair of troopers who stood to the side with hurried salutes.

“…Did they just salute us?” Cloud whispered once they were several cars away. They were already on the leeward side of the roadblock.

“Saluted you,” Kunsel corrected. “You’re the one wearing a First Class uniform here.” He steered them towards the opposite side of the highway, where the vehicles going out were still backed up. It would give them cover until they were on the correct side of the walls.

Nobody stopped them. Hardly anyone even looked.

Then they were past the walls, on the outer edges of the slums. They disappeared into the shadowed alleyways with no one the wiser, and didn’t stop walking until the sound of the highway had been buried by the background wall of noise of people and machinery and too many phones and stereos and televisions going at the same time.

They were here. Midgar, finally.

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Cloud said.

“Never underestimate the power of a uniform and looking like you’re busy,” Kunsel replied. “Nobody here wants to admit that they don’t know what they’re doing and they missed half their orders. They were going through the motions. They were on the lookout for AVLANCHE sympathisers, not wondering what a pair of unfamiliar SOLDIERs were up to.”

He sighed, glancing up at the underside of the Plate. It had been midday when they came in on the highway, but within Midgar’s walls it always felt like night. Streetlamps and signs lit up the avenues every hour of the day and still failed to reach the shadowy corners. The constant roiling odor of exhaust and industrial chemicals and garbage left to accumulate too long clambered so powerfully into his sinuses that he could scarcely remember what anything else smelled like.

He’d missed it in a way. This had been home.

It had been over four years though, and already Kunsel could tell things had changed.

“It was terrifying,” Cloud commented. “I kept waiting for someone to notice and raise the alarm the whole time.”

“Get used to it,” Kunsel said grimly. “Because that is exactly how we’re going to infiltrate ShinRa headquarters.”

Next chapter