[FF7] Shotgun Loyalty III - IV
SHOTGUN LOYALTY
by elf asato
Chapters III - IV.
III.
"Tell Heidegger I need to see him in my office immediately," Rufus spoke to his secretary through the intercom, his voice carrying through dully in a lower tone, and she messaged back to inform him that Heidegger was on his way. That very knowledge cast a pall over his mood, and he did not look forward to meeting with that buffoonish oaf to discuss the situation with Cloud and friends; even the whoreish Scarlet was better than him. Rufus hated Heidegger, hated his laugh, the fact that he was one of his father's men, his very face itself... He didn't know why he didn't fire him. Heidegger screwed up so often that he really should have canned him long ago, but...there was something inside Rufus that forced him to let the man stay. Something he hated and despised but was all-too familiar with. It was the same reason he let all his father's aides keep their jobs, let his mother continue living in the President's Mansion as she practically whittled the family fortune away, and let himself stay in that cramped and god-forsaken apartment half a mile west of the city center that he had been residing in for the past five years. It actually wasn't a small place -- in one of the ritziest sectors in the city, even -- but throughout the years he had accumulated so many things from around the world that it had begun to feel crowded, though he was reluctant to give away or throw anything out. His mother had always accused him of being a pack rat, after all.
His intercom buzzed and the secretary's -- his father's secretary -- voice came through, announcing Heidegger's arrival. Reluctantly, Rufus told her to let him in as he sat at his grand desk and tried to look as intimidating and serious as possible; hopefully it would scare the idiot. Of course, he also thought dimly, Heidegger probably didn't have the sense to be intimidated, and people like that annoyed him. The man had few redeeming qualities in Rufus' eyes.
Loud and heavily, he entered the office, closing the door roughly behind him in such a way that the noise from it reverberated throughout the cold and still room, and smiled stupidly, brightly, saying, "You wanted to see me, Rufus?"
"Call me sir, Heidegger. Sir. Have a little respect, will you?" he said, his voice low, sharp, and commanding. Annoyance and fatigue betrayed his calm demeanor, however. "Sit." When Heidegger obeyed by scrambling -- he loved it when they did that -- for a nearby chair that was cold and hard, just like the president, Rufus suppressed a smirk as he continued, "What do you have to tell me about recent Avalanche developments?"
"They're near to progressing through Corel now, sir. Should be in the town and into Golden Saucer within the next few days. They seem to be taking it easy for now, I think," Heidegger reported, and Rufus was relieved that he hadn't started into that god-awful laugh until the man added, "But, of course, we'll have them once they're there, sir." Then he began to guffaw, and Rufus wanted to tear his throat out.
His composure cracked slightly. "Stop it! How many times do I have to tell you, you buffoonish oaf, to--" Heidegger was saved from further reprimanding by the secretary, though.
"Sir?" she buzzed over the intercom, and she sounded slightly annoyed as she continued, "pardon the interruption, but Tseng wishes to see you."
"Send him in," Rufus said to her quickly, and then to Heidegger he added harshly, "You, get out." He'd had all the basic information he needed from the portly man, and the rest of it he would order his secretary to gather; reluctantly he'd hoped to discuss a bit more with Heidegger, including plans for future strategy, but Tseng was an all-too welcome distraction. Though the man had important things to discuss with him, Rufus could not stand him, and as a result...
"Of course, should I come back later to discuss future plans concerning--"
"Yes, yes, whatever, just get out," the president ordered quickly.
As he moved toward the door, he kept talking, "But what should I tell the men to--"
"I don't care, Heidegger. Use your head."
The man had his hand on the knob of the door opened ajar as he tried to further information, "But--"
"Heidegger," Rufus commanded slowly but loudly as his annoyance and impatience threatened to get the best of him, "get out."
Heidegger paused and looked at his boss, something churning within his head, and finally smiled jovially, moving to leave. "Have a good day, then," he said before he closed the door behind him, "Rufus."
The door shut, leaving only a frustrated and angry young man inside the cold office once again. "I said," Rufus murmured into his hands at no one as he rubbed his face in exasperation, "to call me sir."
IV.
Give him two days, Rude had predicted, and we'll be back trailing Avalanche again. And as the Turks sat in silence, waiting for the president to finish up his business with Reeve, it had been two days exactly. Such predictions from the quiet, bald man were always eerily accurate. Rude's baldness had made it easier for him to be in touch with the life force of the planet, Reno had told him in all seriousness once, and people with hair were never really able to feel it. Of course, the man had been drinking the house special at Sam's bar, so whatever he said was to be taken with a grain of salt, Rude was sure.
"I don't want to go to Corel," Elena sighed to Rufus' secretary, a young and proper-looking woman close to her boss' age; she hated him, though, because he wasn't interested in having an affair with her like his father was. "It's such a poor, dirty little town..."
Like the gossip-mongerer she was, the secretary leaned in conspiratorily and whispered, "Word has it that the president sent Tseng ahead with a few boys from SOLDIER to scout in the Corel area, so most likely you'll either be stationed at Corel directly or -- and I overheard him talking to Heidegger about this -- the Golden Saucer."
Elena practically squealed with delight over this bit of gossip and turned to the other Turks, exclaiming, "Oh, I really hope it's true!"
Rude only nodded briefly with a grunt, but Reno shook his head slightly, still feeling mildly hung-over, and muttered, "Nah, they wouldn't station us there. We're the Turks; the Golden Saucer heads would never let us patrol there. Most likely we'll be sent on ahead, south of that area."
"Aw, Reno, you're no fun!" Elena complained, if only because she knew he was right. She then turned back to the secretary and began discussing the particulars of her most recent date. It had apparently gone fairly well.
Since nothing she said was of any particular importance or concerned him at all, Reno tuned Elena out and leaned back into the hard and stale bench, trying to relax with a pounding skull, as Rude picked up the Times and turned to the sports section.
"The Zolems beat the Cockatrices three to one last night," Rude muttered idly.
"Damn," Reno muttered as he pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose, "I actually had my money on the Cocks this time..."
"How much?"
"Fifty gil."
Rude chuckled and turned the page. "Why'd you do that?"
"Well I didn't think they'd lose, obviously," Reno muttered shortly. "One doesn't put money on a team in hopes that they lose, after all."
"Considering that the Cockatrices have only won four games this entire season, wouldn't it be obvious that they'd lose to the superior Zolems who've only lost one game?"
"You're only saying that because you bet in their favor."
Rude answered with another brief chuckle.
"So how much?"
"...Only twenty."
Reno leaned forward quickly and exclaimed with muted passion, "See? If you were so sure that they'd win, you'd have put more money on, wouldn't you?"
Rude didn't answer but immersed himself in the world of sports again with an idle smirk on his lips.
Elena, overhearing Reno's brief outburst, sighed and disapproved. "Boys, if you're going to indulge in beting, at least bet the big bucks! It's not like we live paycheck to paycheck, after all."
"Right," the secretary agreed, "I like a man who's not afraid to spend a little more than he should on a risk."
"Then you favor a poor man?" Reno asked, not at all interested in what kind of man the secretary liked, but he felt contrite nonetheless.
She gave him a sharp look and answered, "Certainly not," before returning to the world of idle gossip with her female companion.
He could care less anyway.
The door to the presidential office at the top of the steps opened and Rufus walked Reeve down, still discussing business, but it was of last-minute, irrelevant matters. "You can control it remotely, you say? How remote?"
"It can go anywhere in the world, sir," Reeve answered with a certain amount of pride as they reached the bottom of the steps where the Turks still sat in the waiting area, listening while trying not to show it. "Underwater, in the air, anywhere."
Rufus shook the man's hand and continued, "Quite remarkable, Reeve. I do look forward to seeing it in action." He then pat Reeve's shoulder, looking pleased for once, and bid him a good day before turning to the Turks and motioning for them to follow him up into his office.
by elf asato
Chapters III - IV.
III.
"Tell Heidegger I need to see him in my office immediately," Rufus spoke to his secretary through the intercom, his voice carrying through dully in a lower tone, and she messaged back to inform him that Heidegger was on his way. That very knowledge cast a pall over his mood, and he did not look forward to meeting with that buffoonish oaf to discuss the situation with Cloud and friends; even the whoreish Scarlet was better than him. Rufus hated Heidegger, hated his laugh, the fact that he was one of his father's men, his very face itself... He didn't know why he didn't fire him. Heidegger screwed up so often that he really should have canned him long ago, but...there was something inside Rufus that forced him to let the man stay. Something he hated and despised but was all-too familiar with. It was the same reason he let all his father's aides keep their jobs, let his mother continue living in the President's Mansion as she practically whittled the family fortune away, and let himself stay in that cramped and god-forsaken apartment half a mile west of the city center that he had been residing in for the past five years. It actually wasn't a small place -- in one of the ritziest sectors in the city, even -- but throughout the years he had accumulated so many things from around the world that it had begun to feel crowded, though he was reluctant to give away or throw anything out. His mother had always accused him of being a pack rat, after all.
His intercom buzzed and the secretary's -- his father's secretary -- voice came through, announcing Heidegger's arrival. Reluctantly, Rufus told her to let him in as he sat at his grand desk and tried to look as intimidating and serious as possible; hopefully it would scare the idiot. Of course, he also thought dimly, Heidegger probably didn't have the sense to be intimidated, and people like that annoyed him. The man had few redeeming qualities in Rufus' eyes.
Loud and heavily, he entered the office, closing the door roughly behind him in such a way that the noise from it reverberated throughout the cold and still room, and smiled stupidly, brightly, saying, "You wanted to see me, Rufus?"
"Call me sir, Heidegger. Sir. Have a little respect, will you?" he said, his voice low, sharp, and commanding. Annoyance and fatigue betrayed his calm demeanor, however. "Sit." When Heidegger obeyed by scrambling -- he loved it when they did that -- for a nearby chair that was cold and hard, just like the president, Rufus suppressed a smirk as he continued, "What do you have to tell me about recent Avalanche developments?"
"They're near to progressing through Corel now, sir. Should be in the town and into Golden Saucer within the next few days. They seem to be taking it easy for now, I think," Heidegger reported, and Rufus was relieved that he hadn't started into that god-awful laugh until the man added, "But, of course, we'll have them once they're there, sir." Then he began to guffaw, and Rufus wanted to tear his throat out.
His composure cracked slightly. "Stop it! How many times do I have to tell you, you buffoonish oaf, to--" Heidegger was saved from further reprimanding by the secretary, though.
"Sir?" she buzzed over the intercom, and she sounded slightly annoyed as she continued, "pardon the interruption, but Tseng wishes to see you."
"Send him in," Rufus said to her quickly, and then to Heidegger he added harshly, "You, get out." He'd had all the basic information he needed from the portly man, and the rest of it he would order his secretary to gather; reluctantly he'd hoped to discuss a bit more with Heidegger, including plans for future strategy, but Tseng was an all-too welcome distraction. Though the man had important things to discuss with him, Rufus could not stand him, and as a result...
"Of course, should I come back later to discuss future plans concerning--"
"Yes, yes, whatever, just get out," the president ordered quickly.
As he moved toward the door, he kept talking, "But what should I tell the men to--"
"I don't care, Heidegger. Use your head."
The man had his hand on the knob of the door opened ajar as he tried to further information, "But--"
"Heidegger," Rufus commanded slowly but loudly as his annoyance and impatience threatened to get the best of him, "get out."
Heidegger paused and looked at his boss, something churning within his head, and finally smiled jovially, moving to leave. "Have a good day, then," he said before he closed the door behind him, "Rufus."
The door shut, leaving only a frustrated and angry young man inside the cold office once again. "I said," Rufus murmured into his hands at no one as he rubbed his face in exasperation, "to call me sir."
IV.
Give him two days, Rude had predicted, and we'll be back trailing Avalanche again. And as the Turks sat in silence, waiting for the president to finish up his business with Reeve, it had been two days exactly. Such predictions from the quiet, bald man were always eerily accurate. Rude's baldness had made it easier for him to be in touch with the life force of the planet, Reno had told him in all seriousness once, and people with hair were never really able to feel it. Of course, the man had been drinking the house special at Sam's bar, so whatever he said was to be taken with a grain of salt, Rude was sure.
"I don't want to go to Corel," Elena sighed to Rufus' secretary, a young and proper-looking woman close to her boss' age; she hated him, though, because he wasn't interested in having an affair with her like his father was. "It's such a poor, dirty little town..."
Like the gossip-mongerer she was, the secretary leaned in conspiratorily and whispered, "Word has it that the president sent Tseng ahead with a few boys from SOLDIER to scout in the Corel area, so most likely you'll either be stationed at Corel directly or -- and I overheard him talking to Heidegger about this -- the Golden Saucer."
Elena practically squealed with delight over this bit of gossip and turned to the other Turks, exclaiming, "Oh, I really hope it's true!"
Rude only nodded briefly with a grunt, but Reno shook his head slightly, still feeling mildly hung-over, and muttered, "Nah, they wouldn't station us there. We're the Turks; the Golden Saucer heads would never let us patrol there. Most likely we'll be sent on ahead, south of that area."
"Aw, Reno, you're no fun!" Elena complained, if only because she knew he was right. She then turned back to the secretary and began discussing the particulars of her most recent date. It had apparently gone fairly well.
Since nothing she said was of any particular importance or concerned him at all, Reno tuned Elena out and leaned back into the hard and stale bench, trying to relax with a pounding skull, as Rude picked up the Times and turned to the sports section.
"The Zolems beat the Cockatrices three to one last night," Rude muttered idly.
"Damn," Reno muttered as he pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose, "I actually had my money on the Cocks this time..."
"How much?"
"Fifty gil."
Rude chuckled and turned the page. "Why'd you do that?"
"Well I didn't think they'd lose, obviously," Reno muttered shortly. "One doesn't put money on a team in hopes that they lose, after all."
"Considering that the Cockatrices have only won four games this entire season, wouldn't it be obvious that they'd lose to the superior Zolems who've only lost one game?"
"You're only saying that because you bet in their favor."
Rude answered with another brief chuckle.
"So how much?"
"...Only twenty."
Reno leaned forward quickly and exclaimed with muted passion, "See? If you were so sure that they'd win, you'd have put more money on, wouldn't you?"
Rude didn't answer but immersed himself in the world of sports again with an idle smirk on his lips.
Elena, overhearing Reno's brief outburst, sighed and disapproved. "Boys, if you're going to indulge in beting, at least bet the big bucks! It's not like we live paycheck to paycheck, after all."
"Right," the secretary agreed, "I like a man who's not afraid to spend a little more than he should on a risk."
"Then you favor a poor man?" Reno asked, not at all interested in what kind of man the secretary liked, but he felt contrite nonetheless.
She gave him a sharp look and answered, "Certainly not," before returning to the world of idle gossip with her female companion.
He could care less anyway.
The door to the presidential office at the top of the steps opened and Rufus walked Reeve down, still discussing business, but it was of last-minute, irrelevant matters. "You can control it remotely, you say? How remote?"
"It can go anywhere in the world, sir," Reeve answered with a certain amount of pride as they reached the bottom of the steps where the Turks still sat in the waiting area, listening while trying not to show it. "Underwater, in the air, anywhere."
Rufus shook the man's hand and continued, "Quite remarkable, Reeve. I do look forward to seeing it in action." He then pat Reeve's shoulder, looking pleased for once, and bid him a good day before turning to the Turks and motioning for them to follow him up into his office.