Fanfic Hojo Redux
Fanfic Hojo Redux
Title: Hojo Redux
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Rufus/Tseng
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Characters and world setting are owned by Square Enix.
Hojo Redux
Chapter 9
If It Was Something Concrete ...
Tseng paused just inside the office door. The office itself though reasonably sized had a battered look to it. The walls were in need of paint and the two corners on the outside wall had waterstains. There was no carpeting on the floor and the varnish on the hardwood had worn off in several places.
But what was most remarkable about the office was that it had absolutely nothing to give it a personal touch. There were no pictures or ornaments hung on the walls, not even a calendar. The end table beside a worn couch held only a plain heavy glass ashtray. And the desk which dominated the room had upon it only papers and a computer.
There was nothing at all to give any hint as to the personality of the man whose office it was. Tseng found the office aesthetically unappealing. He had thought Reno’s and Rude’s office to be tasteless in its decor (he had, had to order Reno to remove the girly calendar for being unprofessional) but at least their office showed that living, breathing people occupied it. This office could have been an abandoned one.
Nevertheless the office did have an occupant and that occupant was now glaring at Tseng from behind the desk.
Tseng seated himself on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs that stood before Haggard’s desk. The Turk crossed one knee over the other and removed a cigarette case from a breast pocket. Idly he removed one cigarette, returned the case to its pocket and took out an elegantly carved lighter. Once the cigarette was lit and the lighter in turn put away, Tseng sat back and cooly eyed Haggard from behind the thin stream of smoke that rose to the ceiling.
Haggard’s scowl became more pronounced as he watched the Turk make himself at home in the sheriff’s office. "Are you comfortable now, Tseng?" he snarled.
The Wutaian’s expression did not change. "Not really," he replied, "but then you would be disappointed if I was, wouldn’t you? Tell me, Sheriff, do you use your own office to interrogate suspects? There must be a reason why it’s so ... stark."
Tseng made a show of visually inspecting every part of the office before letting his gaze rest on the Sheriff again. "Perhaps you think starkness denotes strength. However too much can have a souring effect on one’s own disposition."
Haggard pressed his lips together but before he could respond, Tseng spoke again in a suddenly sharp voice.
"We need to talk, Sheriff Haggard."
While Tseng and Haggard began their verbal crossing of swords, outside at the receptionist’s desk the door opened and a broad shouldered, brown-haired man in a short sleeve shirt and tan slacks both of which had seen better days, entered.
The receptionist’s face lit up and she grinned. "Why hello, Pete!" she called out to the man.
The man smiled wanly at the woman in return. "Hi there, Megan. You got that boyfriend of yours to give you a diamond ring yet?"
She giggled. "Not yet, but I’m working on him."
Pete closed the door behind him and advanced into the room. "Saw a strange car out front. We got a visitor?"
The receptionist nodded. "One of them Turk guys from Shin-Ra," she bent forward in a conspiratorial manner, "and I think it’s the head Turk guy. Wutaian. Good looking but not real friendly."
Pete’s face took on a sudden blank expression. "Is that so," he said and looked down the corridor that led to the Sheriff’s office.
The grin suddenly vanished from the woman’s face. "Now you listen here, Pete Shaw, don’t you go messing in things that don’t concern you."
Pete returned his attention to the receptionist. "Now what makes you think I’m going to do that?"
"I know that look on your face," Megan replied. She lowered her voice and spoke intensely. "Pete, I know you and me do a lot of kidding around but I’m serious this time...real serious. Don’t cross the Sheriff, Pete. He hasn’t been the same since that thing was in the sky. He’s changed. Not that he ever was the friendly sort but now ..." Her voice broke and she unconsciously clenched her fists. "He scares me," she finished in a whisper.
The man patted her shoulder. "It’s ok, Megan, don’t you go worrying about me ...damn!" he suddenly exclaimed, "I left that report I need you to type up in my car. I’ll go get it."
The change of topic distracted her as he had hoped it would. She suddenly frowned, "I wish they’d get around to replacing that no-good Jenny so I can stop being a secretary for all you guys," she said annoyed.
Pete paused as he was opening the outer door. "Now Megan, you know how you get a kick out of the candy and flowers the guys give you to say thanks."
She giggled but as the door closed behind Pete, she shot a troubled look down the corridor towards the Sheriff’s office and shivered.
Inside the office, Haggard was a mass of barely contained rage. "Are you accusing my people of being incompetent?" he demanded.
"I don’t know, Tseng replied calmly. "I only know that certain quite obvious details seem to have been left out of the reports you gave me. Perhaps if I speak to those people who were actually on duty those nights ..."
"Oh so it’s me you’re accusing of being incompetent!"
Tseng sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am not your enemy, Sheriff Haggard," he said quietly. "I do not care for fame and glory, I am not here to steal your thunder or interfere with the way you run your department." The Turk lowered his hand. "I and my people are here simply to solve a mystery. If you have a problem with that then I suggest you take it up with your mayor who was the one who requested our presence."
The deepening of the scowl on Haggard’s face indicated to Tseng that the man had probably already registered his objections with the mayor and had most likely been overruled.
Tseng’s voice remained calm but its tone became even sharper. "I really don’t want to conclude that the omissions were deliberate, Sheriff Haggard. That would not look good for you."
Haggard sat upward in his chair, ramrod straight against its back.
"Everything I considered important is in the folders I gave you, Tseng. You don’t like it, too damn bad. Now I have a police department to run so unless you have something worth my time, I’d appreciate it if you’d get your ass out of here!"
Tseng rose smoothly from the chair. He again bowed slightly. "I’m sure that we will be speaking again, Sheriff Haggard," he said and then without waiting for a reply from the sheriff, the Wutaian turned, stubbed his cigarette out in the heavy glass ashtray and left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
He was frowning slightly as he walked down the corridor towards the main entrance. When he stepped into the room where the receptionist was making an effort to look busy, Pete Shaw stepped in front of him.
"Mr. Tseng?" he asked.
Tseng stopped and raised his eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I’m Pete Shaw. I just wanted to say that I’m glad that Mr. Shinra is helping us with this investigation and I wish you all the luck in finding out what’s been happening."
The man extended his right hand and Tseng shook hands with him.
"Thank you," Tseng replied. "I’m pleased that someone at least is glad that we’re here."
The man simply nodded and then quickly walked away. Tseng let him go and continued towards the door. Although the receptionist had stopped even pretending to be typing on the computer, he ignored her and pushed the door open to be greeted with air that already was beginning to turn sultry.
Tseng quickly got into the car, turned the ignition and drove out of the parking lot. He drove for a few blocks until he was out of sight of the station then he pulled over to the curb.
Fully opening his right hand, Tseng contemplated the tightly folded paper that had been slipped to him in the handshake of the young officer. He carefully unfolded it and spread it out. Written in tiny cramped letters was an address and the words, "back right booth". That was all.
Tseng pursed his lips and he put the paper into his pocket. There was the chance that it was a trap of course but there was also the chance of getting some much needed information. Tseng decided that it was worth the risk.
Since he had a good knowledge of Costa del Sol at least as it had been before Meteor and since the address was a place that he already knew, Tseng lost no time in driving to it. It was a small cafe. He parked his car around the corner from its entrance and made a careful inspection of the street as he walked back. There was no one else on the street. His trained eyes could detect no sign that anyone had followed him. The cafe definitely was not an establishment frequented by either middle class tourists or the jet set. It was a local hang out, small and dark with wood paneling on the lower parts of the walls and dingy hanging ceiling lights that barely managed to pierce the gloom.
It was also an excellent place to have a meeting with someone that you didn’t want to be seen with. Tseng followed the instructions in the note and made his way to the furthest booth on the right. The cafe itself was mainly empty. Tseng did not know if that was due to the fact that it was now well after lunch or to the nervousness everyone had regarding the disappearances.
The booth was empty. Tseng slid into it, making sure that he faced the direction of the entrance. Turk training made it a habit for any Turk to try to observe all entrances and for keeping his back against the wall so to speak.
Barely had he settled himself in the booth when a form came out of the shadows. Tseng’s hand flew to the inside of his jacket where his gun was holstered. He kept it there until he had identified the form as being Pete Shaw and the other man had slid into the booth opposite him.
"Keep your hands upon the table, please," Tseng said cooly.
Shaw snorted but did what he was told. Tseng in turn removed his hand from the inside of his jacket and folded his hands upon the tabletop.
"Cautious man, aren’t you, Tseng," Shaw said.
"One has to be in my line of business," the Wutaian replied.
Shaw nodded. "One has to be in my line of business as well. Which is why we’re talking here instead of at the police station."
"Really?" Tseng murmured. "Why should you fear speaking at the police station, Mr. Shaw?"
Before Shaw could respond, a wizened old man with scars on his face approached the booth. Around his waist was tied a cloth that at one time had been white but which was now faded to a dingy gray. In his hands, the old man held a pencil and pad.
Shaw barely glanced at him. "Coffee for me, Frank, he said. He looked questioningly at Tseng.
"Coffee for me as well please," Tseng said in response to the unspoken question.
The old man nodded, wrote the order down on the notepad and then shuffled off. Tseng watched him as he disappeared into the back.
"You don’t have to worry about Frank," Shaw said, "Him and me go way back. When I was a rookie cop I gave his grandkid a break. He was a good kid but he’d gotten in with the wrong crowd and got himself addicted to mako. Instead of throwing the book at him, I got him into a treatment center. Kid got off of mako, turned his life around, yada, yada, yada. Ever since then Frank’s been grateful to me."
Tseng turned back to Shaw. "What exactly did you want to speak to me about, Mr. Shaw?"
"I seen those reports that Haggard gave you."
"And?"
"They’re missing some things."
"Yes I know. He left out everything having to do with an unnatural fog the nights of the disappearances," Tseng said.
Shaw snorted again. "Hell the fog’s the least of it! He left out the fact that there were other disappearances. We lost three of our men investigating these disappearances, Tseng. Why do you think the mayor called you guys in? He didn’t want to lose any more of his police force."
Frank reappeared at this moment and set down the coffee cups together with a carafe of coffee. He filled the cups, set the carafe back down and then left. Tseng picked up his cup sniffed at it and then took a sip of the hot liquid. Replacing the cup on the table, he looked up at Shaw.
"Why do you think, Sheriff Haggard would leave out the fact that he lost three of his people?"
Shaw let out a deep sigh. "Hell I don’t know. The guy’s been really weird ever since that Meteor thing was in the sky."
"In what way?"
"Well...he’s never been what you call a socializing type but at least he use to be polite. Say hello to people, that sort of thing. But lately he’s been hostile as hell and so damn secretive."
Tseng pulled out a notepad of his own. "Tell me everything about the disappearance of your colleagues," he said. "Leave nothing out, no matter how trivial it might seem."
Shaw’s eyes took on a faraway look as he ventured back through his memories.
"The first disappearance we treated as a routine missing person case. It was a guy named Roger Barnes, worked as a plumber...married with two kids. Wife woke up the one morning and he was gone. Claimed nothing had been wrong between them, nothing seemed to be bothering him. Of course we took that with somewhat of a grain of salt...families of missing people often say there was no reason for the person to leave of their own free will and then it turns out that the person had someone on the side or was dipping into the workplace safe or something like that."
Tseng nodded but said nothing although he knew the details of the people who had gone missing. But he wanted to hear it from someone who had actually been on the case before the Turks had been asked to come in so he remained silent and let Shaw continue.
"We had nothing on that disappearance when another came in. Didn’t think much of it at the time. The town’s been growing since Midgar fell. Lot of new people moving in...there’s been some trouble."
Shaw took a sip of his coffee and went on. "Then the third one happened. And the coin dropped. Three disappearances all at night when the person was supposedly sleeping. No signs of forced entry. Nothing heard. Nothing disturbed. We began to wonder if we had some kind of serial killer on our hands ‘cept we weren’t even finding any bodies. And there was a fourth, a fifth, a sixth one. The public began to notice and they began to panic."
Shaw looked at Tseng. "And then we got a witness."
Tseng started. "A witness? Haggard’s reports mention nothing of a witness!"
Shaw nodded. His lips twisted. "Interesting ain’t it," he said softly. "Haggard interviewed the witness himself. He never told anyone else what the witness said. And he never turned in a transcript of the interview. He said access was on a need to know basis."
"And he claimed that those of his people who were actively investigating the disappearances didn’t need to know?" Tseng’s tone of voice was incredulous. "And you all accepted that?"
"Hell no, we didn’t accept it!" Shaw was clearly stung by the implication. His voice lowered. "Especially Jake. No way in hell did Jake accept it!"
There was a moment’s silence. Tseng could tell that painful memories were passing through Shaw’s mind. Eventually he gently prodded, "Jake?"
Shaw raised his head. "Jake Morrison. Jake was a good cop. He knew the town, knew the people. He didn’t have any family so he made the town his family. Even the two bit crooks respected Jake. Guy was a bulldog. Tenacious. Once he had his teeth in something, he never let go. Not even if ordered to. Especially if ordered to. He kept pressing Haggard for explanations. Told him it was crazy for him to keep details from us. Threatened to go to the mayor about it. ‘Course that threat didn’t mean anything because the mayor is scared shitless of Haggard."
"Finally he snuck off and talked to the witness himself. Haggard was livid when he found out. Jake didn’t care. He got the info he needed to help protect the town and that’s all that Jake ever cared about."
"You keep referring to Mr. Morrison in the past tense," Tseng murmured. "What happened to him?"
Shaw paused again. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and took a sip. Tseng recognized the gesture for what it was, a stalling tactic. But intuition told him that the stall was the result of something very painful that Shaw was reluctant to bring up rather than any desire to be evasive. Therefore the Turk did not press him but patiently waited until he was ready to continue.
"That same night after Jake talked to the witness," Shaw began again, his voice so soft that Tseng had to lean forward in order to catch all of the words, "We got sent out on a special patrol. I could see that Jake knew something. He had this look in his eye. But when I asked him what was up, he just said not here. He didn’t want to talk in the station."
"As soon as we were out on the street, Jake got a text message from some street kid that he had taken under his wing. Kid said he was in trouble, needed Jake right away. Jake texts back, where? He gets back an address. Some construction site. Jake went down into the construction site and never came back out. Hasn’t been seen since."
This time there was evasion in Shaw’s eyes.
He’s not telling all of it. He’s holding back. But why? He’s the one who set up this meeting.
Tseng took a sip of his coffee and grimaced as he realized that it was cold. He eyed Shaw.
"Were you a friend of Mr. Morrison’s," he asked gently.
Shaw closed his eyes. "He was my partner, my senior partner."
Ah, that explains it. The hesitation. What he has to tell is especially painful for him. Unfortunately I don’t have time anymore to wait for him to speak when he’s ready.
"You were there that night, weren’t you, Mr. Shaw? You saw what happened."
Shaw shuddered. He kept his eyes closed and began speaking in a monotone almost as though he were reciting from a script he had memorized.
"There was a big pit for the building foundation," he began, "There was a chain link fence around the site but there was a gate and the gate was open. Jake called out for the kid but there was no answer. He told me to stay at the top of the pit while he started down the ramp with his flashlight on."
Shaw swallowed heavily. Tseng didn’t make a sound not wanting to interrupt.
"The pit was a deep one. I could see his flashlight beam but I couldn’t see him very well. He kept calling out for the kid. There still wasn’t any answer. Then all of a sudden the flashlight beam went down, I could see it bouncing down the ramp. Jake started swearing."
Shaw opened his eyes and stared at Tseng. There was anguish in those eyes.
"I...I made a joke. I said to him, what’s the matter, Jake, trip over your own feet? And he said no, that someone had knocked the flashlight out of his hand. Only I hadn’t seen anyone.... Jake was mad, he said Cargo ... that was the kid’s name ... Cargo if this is your idea of a joke, I’ll skin you alive. Then I heard him say, what the fuck? And then....and then...."
Beads of sweat broke out on Shaw’s forehead. Tseng quietly removed the coffee cup from Shaw’s hand as he could see the man’s knuckles growing white while gripping it and the Turk feared that the policeman was going to shatter the cup.
"He began to scream," Shaw continued, his voice sounding hoarse as though he had been yelling his words instead of uttering them barely above a whisper. "Screaming and firing his gun over and over. It was the screaming that did it for me. Jake was the most fearless guy I ever knew and yet there he was screaming his head off. All I could think of was Shiva!, what’s happening? What is he seeing?"
"I disobeyed his orders. I ran down the ramp...tried to at any rate. It was black as pitch down there, the lights on the fence didn’t do shit for lighting up that hole. I kept falling. I should have called for backup. That’s standard procedure...why the hell didn’t I call for backup?"
"Then I was finally at the bottom. I was yelling for Jake but there wasn’t any answer. He’d stopped screaming. He wasn’t making a sound. And ... and that was worse. The quiet. It was worse."
Shaw sucked in a deep breath, fortifying himself for what was coming next.
"I swung the beam of my flashlight around. And then I saw...I saw Jake. Only....only...."
The man’s eyes were wide. He wasn’t seeing Tseng anymore or the cafe that they were in. He was back in that pit.
"It was only half of him. There was this...this thing. A big, black blob of something, I don’t know what. And it had him. It had him and half of him was inside this blob thing like it was absorbing him."
The hands which had been grasping a coffee cup so tightly a moment ago were now clutched around each other. Shaw was breathing heavily. He stared down at the table.
"I kept the light on it. And I pulled my gun. And I shot at it. I shot at the other side of it away from Jake."
The eyes lifted and were now staring at Tseng with dreadful intensity.
"I swear....I shot at the side away from Jake. Only...only that thing swerved and...the shots...the bullets...they hit...they didn’t hit it. The bullets...hit...they hit... oh sweet Shiva, they hit Jake. I saw them hit him. I saw his blood spurting from them. And then that...that thing just sucked him right in and he was gone."
"And then I ran. I ran up the ramp, I swear I don’t even know how I made it and as soon as I reached the car, I got the hell out of there. I must have drove for hours just shaking...just shaking."
Tears were now streaming down Shaw’s cheeks. Tseng reached out and gently laid his hand on the man’s arm.
"Steady," Tseng said quietly.
Shaw sucked in another huge breath and slowly nodded.
"And you know what I did then, Tseng?"
The Turk shook his head.
"I lied. I told them that Jake had asked me to drop him off at home, said he wasn’t feeling well. And that’s what I told Haggard. I told him I didn’t know what happened to Jake. He didn’t ask many questions. I could tell he didn’t really want to talk about it. And then I went and talked to Cargo and he told me he hadn’t sent any messages to Jake so I knew that it had all been a set-up."
Shaw’s voice was now steady. "It had been a set-up. The other two men who disappeared? They were looking for Jake. After they disappeared, no one else was assigned to looking for Jake. That’s caused talk..oh yeah it has. But no one wants to disappear like Jake did. The guys knew that he went against Haggard. If it was something concrete...something we could get our teeth into it would be different."
Shaw gave Tseng a determined look. "We’re not cowards, Tseng. But this....there’s something ... you’re going to laugh ... but there’s something evil about this that we’ve never faced before."
Wearily the man leaned back against the booth. "Now you know, what I know, Mr. Tseng. That’s all I have to tell you."
Tseng nodded. He took money out and put it down on the table to pay for the coffee. Then he rose. Shaw remained where he was.
"Mr. Shaw," Tseng said. The cop raised his face to him. "If your partner was still alive when you shot him, you probably gave him a merciful death. It was not your fault. And I am not laughing."
A sad smile flickered on Shaw’s face. "I keep telling myself that, Mr. Tseng. But it just doesn’t do any good."
Tseng nodded. If their situation had been reversed, Tseng knew that it wouldn’t do any good for him as well. He strode out of the cafe and got into his car. Shaw’s account had corroborated what Elena had told them. But Shaw had also made something else clear. Sheriff Haggard was more than just a hindrance. He was an enemy.
As the Turk leader drove onto the Shinra estate, he spied Reno waiting for him outside the garage. Tseng got out of the car.
"Guess, what Boss?" Reno said. "Sleeping beauty woke up."
"I’m assuming you mean Valentine has come out of his coma," Tseng replied. "What’s his condition?"
"Well apparently he yelled out somethin’ according ta Strife but then he just clammed up and refused ta say anythin’ more ‘til ya got back. It’s a good thing yer back. I think Rufus is ready ta take a pop at him with his shotgun."
Tseng sighed.
"Oh!" Reno snapped his fingers. "There is one thing that vampire boy said,"
Tseng eyed his subordinate. "And that is?" he prompted.
"He said he’s got ta go ta Niebelheim.
Cross posted to FanFiction.net
Title: Hojo Redux
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Rufus/Tseng
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Characters and world setting are owned by Square Enix.
Hojo Redux
Chapter 9
If It Was Something Concrete ...
Tseng paused just inside the office door. The office itself though reasonably sized had a battered look to it. The walls were in need of paint and the two corners on the outside wall had waterstains. There was no carpeting on the floor and the varnish on the hardwood had worn off in several places.
But what was most remarkable about the office was that it had absolutely nothing to give it a personal touch. There were no pictures or ornaments hung on the walls, not even a calendar. The end table beside a worn couch held only a plain heavy glass ashtray. And the desk which dominated the room had upon it only papers and a computer.
There was nothing at all to give any hint as to the personality of the man whose office it was. Tseng found the office aesthetically unappealing. He had thought Reno’s and Rude’s office to be tasteless in its decor (he had, had to order Reno to remove the girly calendar for being unprofessional) but at least their office showed that living, breathing people occupied it. This office could have been an abandoned one.
Nevertheless the office did have an occupant and that occupant was now glaring at Tseng from behind the desk.
Tseng seated himself on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs that stood before Haggard’s desk. The Turk crossed one knee over the other and removed a cigarette case from a breast pocket. Idly he removed one cigarette, returned the case to its pocket and took out an elegantly carved lighter. Once the cigarette was lit and the lighter in turn put away, Tseng sat back and cooly eyed Haggard from behind the thin stream of smoke that rose to the ceiling.
Haggard’s scowl became more pronounced as he watched the Turk make himself at home in the sheriff’s office. "Are you comfortable now, Tseng?" he snarled.
The Wutaian’s expression did not change. "Not really," he replied, "but then you would be disappointed if I was, wouldn’t you? Tell me, Sheriff, do you use your own office to interrogate suspects? There must be a reason why it’s so ... stark."
Tseng made a show of visually inspecting every part of the office before letting his gaze rest on the Sheriff again. "Perhaps you think starkness denotes strength. However too much can have a souring effect on one’s own disposition."
Haggard pressed his lips together but before he could respond, Tseng spoke again in a suddenly sharp voice.
"We need to talk, Sheriff Haggard."
While Tseng and Haggard began their verbal crossing of swords, outside at the receptionist’s desk the door opened and a broad shouldered, brown-haired man in a short sleeve shirt and tan slacks both of which had seen better days, entered.
The receptionist’s face lit up and she grinned. "Why hello, Pete!" she called out to the man.
The man smiled wanly at the woman in return. "Hi there, Megan. You got that boyfriend of yours to give you a diamond ring yet?"
She giggled. "Not yet, but I’m working on him."
Pete closed the door behind him and advanced into the room. "Saw a strange car out front. We got a visitor?"
The receptionist nodded. "One of them Turk guys from Shin-Ra," she bent forward in a conspiratorial manner, "and I think it’s the head Turk guy. Wutaian. Good looking but not real friendly."
Pete’s face took on a sudden blank expression. "Is that so," he said and looked down the corridor that led to the Sheriff’s office.
The grin suddenly vanished from the woman’s face. "Now you listen here, Pete Shaw, don’t you go messing in things that don’t concern you."
Pete returned his attention to the receptionist. "Now what makes you think I’m going to do that?"
"I know that look on your face," Megan replied. She lowered her voice and spoke intensely. "Pete, I know you and me do a lot of kidding around but I’m serious this time...real serious. Don’t cross the Sheriff, Pete. He hasn’t been the same since that thing was in the sky. He’s changed. Not that he ever was the friendly sort but now ..." Her voice broke and she unconsciously clenched her fists. "He scares me," she finished in a whisper.
The man patted her shoulder. "It’s ok, Megan, don’t you go worrying about me ...damn!" he suddenly exclaimed, "I left that report I need you to type up in my car. I’ll go get it."
The change of topic distracted her as he had hoped it would. She suddenly frowned, "I wish they’d get around to replacing that no-good Jenny so I can stop being a secretary for all you guys," she said annoyed.
Pete paused as he was opening the outer door. "Now Megan, you know how you get a kick out of the candy and flowers the guys give you to say thanks."
She giggled but as the door closed behind Pete, she shot a troubled look down the corridor towards the Sheriff’s office and shivered.
Inside the office, Haggard was a mass of barely contained rage. "Are you accusing my people of being incompetent?" he demanded.
"I don’t know, Tseng replied calmly. "I only know that certain quite obvious details seem to have been left out of the reports you gave me. Perhaps if I speak to those people who were actually on duty those nights ..."
"Oh so it’s me you’re accusing of being incompetent!"
Tseng sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am not your enemy, Sheriff Haggard," he said quietly. "I do not care for fame and glory, I am not here to steal your thunder or interfere with the way you run your department." The Turk lowered his hand. "I and my people are here simply to solve a mystery. If you have a problem with that then I suggest you take it up with your mayor who was the one who requested our presence."
The deepening of the scowl on Haggard’s face indicated to Tseng that the man had probably already registered his objections with the mayor and had most likely been overruled.
Tseng’s voice remained calm but its tone became even sharper. "I really don’t want to conclude that the omissions were deliberate, Sheriff Haggard. That would not look good for you."
Haggard sat upward in his chair, ramrod straight against its back.
"Everything I considered important is in the folders I gave you, Tseng. You don’t like it, too damn bad. Now I have a police department to run so unless you have something worth my time, I’d appreciate it if you’d get your ass out of here!"
Tseng rose smoothly from the chair. He again bowed slightly. "I’m sure that we will be speaking again, Sheriff Haggard," he said and then without waiting for a reply from the sheriff, the Wutaian turned, stubbed his cigarette out in the heavy glass ashtray and left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
He was frowning slightly as he walked down the corridor towards the main entrance. When he stepped into the room where the receptionist was making an effort to look busy, Pete Shaw stepped in front of him.
"Mr. Tseng?" he asked.
Tseng stopped and raised his eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I’m Pete Shaw. I just wanted to say that I’m glad that Mr. Shinra is helping us with this investigation and I wish you all the luck in finding out what’s been happening."
The man extended his right hand and Tseng shook hands with him.
"Thank you," Tseng replied. "I’m pleased that someone at least is glad that we’re here."
The man simply nodded and then quickly walked away. Tseng let him go and continued towards the door. Although the receptionist had stopped even pretending to be typing on the computer, he ignored her and pushed the door open to be greeted with air that already was beginning to turn sultry.
Tseng quickly got into the car, turned the ignition and drove out of the parking lot. He drove for a few blocks until he was out of sight of the station then he pulled over to the curb.
Fully opening his right hand, Tseng contemplated the tightly folded paper that had been slipped to him in the handshake of the young officer. He carefully unfolded it and spread it out. Written in tiny cramped letters was an address and the words, "back right booth". That was all.
Tseng pursed his lips and he put the paper into his pocket. There was the chance that it was a trap of course but there was also the chance of getting some much needed information. Tseng decided that it was worth the risk.
Since he had a good knowledge of Costa del Sol at least as it had been before Meteor and since the address was a place that he already knew, Tseng lost no time in driving to it. It was a small cafe. He parked his car around the corner from its entrance and made a careful inspection of the street as he walked back. There was no one else on the street. His trained eyes could detect no sign that anyone had followed him. The cafe definitely was not an establishment frequented by either middle class tourists or the jet set. It was a local hang out, small and dark with wood paneling on the lower parts of the walls and dingy hanging ceiling lights that barely managed to pierce the gloom.
It was also an excellent place to have a meeting with someone that you didn’t want to be seen with. Tseng followed the instructions in the note and made his way to the furthest booth on the right. The cafe itself was mainly empty. Tseng did not know if that was due to the fact that it was now well after lunch or to the nervousness everyone had regarding the disappearances.
The booth was empty. Tseng slid into it, making sure that he faced the direction of the entrance. Turk training made it a habit for any Turk to try to observe all entrances and for keeping his back against the wall so to speak.
Barely had he settled himself in the booth when a form came out of the shadows. Tseng’s hand flew to the inside of his jacket where his gun was holstered. He kept it there until he had identified the form as being Pete Shaw and the other man had slid into the booth opposite him.
"Keep your hands upon the table, please," Tseng said cooly.
Shaw snorted but did what he was told. Tseng in turn removed his hand from the inside of his jacket and folded his hands upon the tabletop.
"Cautious man, aren’t you, Tseng," Shaw said.
"One has to be in my line of business," the Wutaian replied.
Shaw nodded. "One has to be in my line of business as well. Which is why we’re talking here instead of at the police station."
"Really?" Tseng murmured. "Why should you fear speaking at the police station, Mr. Shaw?"
Before Shaw could respond, a wizened old man with scars on his face approached the booth. Around his waist was tied a cloth that at one time had been white but which was now faded to a dingy gray. In his hands, the old man held a pencil and pad.
Shaw barely glanced at him. "Coffee for me, Frank, he said. He looked questioningly at Tseng.
"Coffee for me as well please," Tseng said in response to the unspoken question.
The old man nodded, wrote the order down on the notepad and then shuffled off. Tseng watched him as he disappeared into the back.
"You don’t have to worry about Frank," Shaw said, "Him and me go way back. When I was a rookie cop I gave his grandkid a break. He was a good kid but he’d gotten in with the wrong crowd and got himself addicted to mako. Instead of throwing the book at him, I got him into a treatment center. Kid got off of mako, turned his life around, yada, yada, yada. Ever since then Frank’s been grateful to me."
Tseng turned back to Shaw. "What exactly did you want to speak to me about, Mr. Shaw?"
"I seen those reports that Haggard gave you."
"And?"
"They’re missing some things."
"Yes I know. He left out everything having to do with an unnatural fog the nights of the disappearances," Tseng said.
Shaw snorted again. "Hell the fog’s the least of it! He left out the fact that there were other disappearances. We lost three of our men investigating these disappearances, Tseng. Why do you think the mayor called you guys in? He didn’t want to lose any more of his police force."
Frank reappeared at this moment and set down the coffee cups together with a carafe of coffee. He filled the cups, set the carafe back down and then left. Tseng picked up his cup sniffed at it and then took a sip of the hot liquid. Replacing the cup on the table, he looked up at Shaw.
"Why do you think, Sheriff Haggard would leave out the fact that he lost three of his people?"
Shaw let out a deep sigh. "Hell I don’t know. The guy’s been really weird ever since that Meteor thing was in the sky."
"In what way?"
"Well...he’s never been what you call a socializing type but at least he use to be polite. Say hello to people, that sort of thing. But lately he’s been hostile as hell and so damn secretive."
Tseng pulled out a notepad of his own. "Tell me everything about the disappearance of your colleagues," he said. "Leave nothing out, no matter how trivial it might seem."
Shaw’s eyes took on a faraway look as he ventured back through his memories.
"The first disappearance we treated as a routine missing person case. It was a guy named Roger Barnes, worked as a plumber...married with two kids. Wife woke up the one morning and he was gone. Claimed nothing had been wrong between them, nothing seemed to be bothering him. Of course we took that with somewhat of a grain of salt...families of missing people often say there was no reason for the person to leave of their own free will and then it turns out that the person had someone on the side or was dipping into the workplace safe or something like that."
Tseng nodded but said nothing although he knew the details of the people who had gone missing. But he wanted to hear it from someone who had actually been on the case before the Turks had been asked to come in so he remained silent and let Shaw continue.
"We had nothing on that disappearance when another came in. Didn’t think much of it at the time. The town’s been growing since Midgar fell. Lot of new people moving in...there’s been some trouble."
Shaw took a sip of his coffee and went on. "Then the third one happened. And the coin dropped. Three disappearances all at night when the person was supposedly sleeping. No signs of forced entry. Nothing heard. Nothing disturbed. We began to wonder if we had some kind of serial killer on our hands ‘cept we weren’t even finding any bodies. And there was a fourth, a fifth, a sixth one. The public began to notice and they began to panic."
Shaw looked at Tseng. "And then we got a witness."
Tseng started. "A witness? Haggard’s reports mention nothing of a witness!"
Shaw nodded. His lips twisted. "Interesting ain’t it," he said softly. "Haggard interviewed the witness himself. He never told anyone else what the witness said. And he never turned in a transcript of the interview. He said access was on a need to know basis."
"And he claimed that those of his people who were actively investigating the disappearances didn’t need to know?" Tseng’s tone of voice was incredulous. "And you all accepted that?"
"Hell no, we didn’t accept it!" Shaw was clearly stung by the implication. His voice lowered. "Especially Jake. No way in hell did Jake accept it!"
There was a moment’s silence. Tseng could tell that painful memories were passing through Shaw’s mind. Eventually he gently prodded, "Jake?"
Shaw raised his head. "Jake Morrison. Jake was a good cop. He knew the town, knew the people. He didn’t have any family so he made the town his family. Even the two bit crooks respected Jake. Guy was a bulldog. Tenacious. Once he had his teeth in something, he never let go. Not even if ordered to. Especially if ordered to. He kept pressing Haggard for explanations. Told him it was crazy for him to keep details from us. Threatened to go to the mayor about it. ‘Course that threat didn’t mean anything because the mayor is scared shitless of Haggard."
"Finally he snuck off and talked to the witness himself. Haggard was livid when he found out. Jake didn’t care. He got the info he needed to help protect the town and that’s all that Jake ever cared about."
"You keep referring to Mr. Morrison in the past tense," Tseng murmured. "What happened to him?"
Shaw paused again. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and took a sip. Tseng recognized the gesture for what it was, a stalling tactic. But intuition told him that the stall was the result of something very painful that Shaw was reluctant to bring up rather than any desire to be evasive. Therefore the Turk did not press him but patiently waited until he was ready to continue.
"That same night after Jake talked to the witness," Shaw began again, his voice so soft that Tseng had to lean forward in order to catch all of the words, "We got sent out on a special patrol. I could see that Jake knew something. He had this look in his eye. But when I asked him what was up, he just said not here. He didn’t want to talk in the station."
"As soon as we were out on the street, Jake got a text message from some street kid that he had taken under his wing. Kid said he was in trouble, needed Jake right away. Jake texts back, where? He gets back an address. Some construction site. Jake went down into the construction site and never came back out. Hasn’t been seen since."
This time there was evasion in Shaw’s eyes.
He’s not telling all of it. He’s holding back. But why? He’s the one who set up this meeting.
Tseng took a sip of his coffee and grimaced as he realized that it was cold. He eyed Shaw.
"Were you a friend of Mr. Morrison’s," he asked gently.
Shaw closed his eyes. "He was my partner, my senior partner."
Ah, that explains it. The hesitation. What he has to tell is especially painful for him. Unfortunately I don’t have time anymore to wait for him to speak when he’s ready.
"You were there that night, weren’t you, Mr. Shaw? You saw what happened."
Shaw shuddered. He kept his eyes closed and began speaking in a monotone almost as though he were reciting from a script he had memorized.
"There was a big pit for the building foundation," he began, "There was a chain link fence around the site but there was a gate and the gate was open. Jake called out for the kid but there was no answer. He told me to stay at the top of the pit while he started down the ramp with his flashlight on."
Shaw swallowed heavily. Tseng didn’t make a sound not wanting to interrupt.
"The pit was a deep one. I could see his flashlight beam but I couldn’t see him very well. He kept calling out for the kid. There still wasn’t any answer. Then all of a sudden the flashlight beam went down, I could see it bouncing down the ramp. Jake started swearing."
Shaw opened his eyes and stared at Tseng. There was anguish in those eyes.
"I...I made a joke. I said to him, what’s the matter, Jake, trip over your own feet? And he said no, that someone had knocked the flashlight out of his hand. Only I hadn’t seen anyone.... Jake was mad, he said Cargo ... that was the kid’s name ... Cargo if this is your idea of a joke, I’ll skin you alive. Then I heard him say, what the fuck? And then....and then...."
Beads of sweat broke out on Shaw’s forehead. Tseng quietly removed the coffee cup from Shaw’s hand as he could see the man’s knuckles growing white while gripping it and the Turk feared that the policeman was going to shatter the cup.
"He began to scream," Shaw continued, his voice sounding hoarse as though he had been yelling his words instead of uttering them barely above a whisper. "Screaming and firing his gun over and over. It was the screaming that did it for me. Jake was the most fearless guy I ever knew and yet there he was screaming his head off. All I could think of was Shiva!, what’s happening? What is he seeing?"
"I disobeyed his orders. I ran down the ramp...tried to at any rate. It was black as pitch down there, the lights on the fence didn’t do shit for lighting up that hole. I kept falling. I should have called for backup. That’s standard procedure...why the hell didn’t I call for backup?"
"Then I was finally at the bottom. I was yelling for Jake but there wasn’t any answer. He’d stopped screaming. He wasn’t making a sound. And ... and that was worse. The quiet. It was worse."
Shaw sucked in a deep breath, fortifying himself for what was coming next.
"I swung the beam of my flashlight around. And then I saw...I saw Jake. Only....only...."
The man’s eyes were wide. He wasn’t seeing Tseng anymore or the cafe that they were in. He was back in that pit.
"It was only half of him. There was this...this thing. A big, black blob of something, I don’t know what. And it had him. It had him and half of him was inside this blob thing like it was absorbing him."
The hands which had been grasping a coffee cup so tightly a moment ago were now clutched around each other. Shaw was breathing heavily. He stared down at the table.
"I kept the light on it. And I pulled my gun. And I shot at it. I shot at the other side of it away from Jake."
The eyes lifted and were now staring at Tseng with dreadful intensity.
"I swear....I shot at the side away from Jake. Only...only that thing swerved and...the shots...the bullets...they hit...they didn’t hit it. The bullets...hit...they hit... oh sweet Shiva, they hit Jake. I saw them hit him. I saw his blood spurting from them. And then that...that thing just sucked him right in and he was gone."
"And then I ran. I ran up the ramp, I swear I don’t even know how I made it and as soon as I reached the car, I got the hell out of there. I must have drove for hours just shaking...just shaking."
Tears were now streaming down Shaw’s cheeks. Tseng reached out and gently laid his hand on the man’s arm.
"Steady," Tseng said quietly.
Shaw sucked in another huge breath and slowly nodded.
"And you know what I did then, Tseng?"
The Turk shook his head.
"I lied. I told them that Jake had asked me to drop him off at home, said he wasn’t feeling well. And that’s what I told Haggard. I told him I didn’t know what happened to Jake. He didn’t ask many questions. I could tell he didn’t really want to talk about it. And then I went and talked to Cargo and he told me he hadn’t sent any messages to Jake so I knew that it had all been a set-up."
Shaw’s voice was now steady. "It had been a set-up. The other two men who disappeared? They were looking for Jake. After they disappeared, no one else was assigned to looking for Jake. That’s caused talk..oh yeah it has. But no one wants to disappear like Jake did. The guys knew that he went against Haggard. If it was something concrete...something we could get our teeth into it would be different."
Shaw gave Tseng a determined look. "We’re not cowards, Tseng. But this....there’s something ... you’re going to laugh ... but there’s something evil about this that we’ve never faced before."
Wearily the man leaned back against the booth. "Now you know, what I know, Mr. Tseng. That’s all I have to tell you."
Tseng nodded. He took money out and put it down on the table to pay for the coffee. Then he rose. Shaw remained where he was.
"Mr. Shaw," Tseng said. The cop raised his face to him. "If your partner was still alive when you shot him, you probably gave him a merciful death. It was not your fault. And I am not laughing."
A sad smile flickered on Shaw’s face. "I keep telling myself that, Mr. Tseng. But it just doesn’t do any good."
Tseng nodded. If their situation had been reversed, Tseng knew that it wouldn’t do any good for him as well. He strode out of the cafe and got into his car. Shaw’s account had corroborated what Elena had told them. But Shaw had also made something else clear. Sheriff Haggard was more than just a hindrance. He was an enemy.
As the Turk leader drove onto the Shinra estate, he spied Reno waiting for him outside the garage. Tseng got out of the car.
"Guess, what Boss?" Reno said. "Sleeping beauty woke up."
"I’m assuming you mean Valentine has come out of his coma," Tseng replied. "What’s his condition?"
"Well apparently he yelled out somethin’ according ta Strife but then he just clammed up and refused ta say anythin’ more ‘til ya got back. It’s a good thing yer back. I think Rufus is ready ta take a pop at him with his shotgun."
Tseng sighed.
"Oh!" Reno snapped his fingers. "There is one thing that vampire boy said,"
Tseng eyed his subordinate. "And that is?" he prompted.
"He said he’s got ta go ta Niebelheim.
Cross posted to FanFiction.net