Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ I Know What Lies Beneath the Snowfields ❯ Chapter 17 ( Chapter 17 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

"I Know What's Beneath the Snow Fields"
Chapter 17

"Oy! If I see another bairn again, I think I'll go mad!" exclaimed Gerald
vexedly.

"And what on earth is a 'bairn'?" asked Cindy in amusement.

During one lazy afternoon, three days after the Reactor incident, the four
Turks had found enough time for some coffee and a friendly chat. Cindy had
been lounging on a couch, reading some fashion magazine, when she had
spotted Vincent leaving the library. The woman immediately called him, and
insisted in her usual sweet way he join her for a cup of coffee in the
ShinRa cafe. Vincent, of course, could not refuse her.

While Cindy was chattering away to the silent Vincent about some trifle
subject, Davoren had chanced upon the two. Eager for more company, Cindy
kindly invited him to join them as well.

Soon, Gerald had stormed into the cafe, muttering curses in his strange
dialect. He collapsed into a chair at the table of his friends, guzzled his
coffee down, then made that bizarre exclamation.

"A bairn!" he insisted, eyeing Cindy suspiciously, "Ye know! A child!"

"Oh? You don't like children?"

"Fuh! I liked 'em until now!" the Turk spluttered.

Vincent sipped his coffee quietly, then checked his watch. Davoren,
laughing good-humouredly, offered the angry Gerald a cigarette to soothe
him. The Turk snatched it in annoyance.

"I'm just after kidnapping a lit'le rugrat," Gerald muttered as he forced
the cigarette into his mouth, "Aie, the guttersnipe! He wouldn't stop
crying! Gave me this flippin' headache, blast 'im."

Cindy could not stop laughing at his childish anger. Davoren lighted
Gerald's cigarette, then lighted one for himself too. Vincent politely
refused the cigarette Davoren offered him.

"Damned if I ever have a bairn!" Gerald scowled, "Ugh! The very thought
turns me stomach!"

Gerald was a sandy-haired young man around 23 years old, from the far, far
North. He was of medium height, with sharp, rugged features and bright
green eyes. His parents, proud owners of some huge farm in the North, had
slaved most of their lives just to get their son into ShinRa Inc. as a desk
clerk.

But Gerald had become a Turk by sheer accident: when some important ShinRa
official had ridiculed his foreign accent, Gerald broke the man's nose with
one punch. The ShinRa President, delighted with Gerald's spirit (he didn't
like that official either), had made him a Turk.

Cindy, a raven-haired beauty around 22 years old, came from a more genteel
background. She had a soft, slim figure, with dark brown eyes. Both her
parents were business owners of some importance, and at first had enrolled
her as a secretary in ShinRa Inc. Much to their dismay, their wilful
daughter found the job 'boring and useless'; she applied to be a Turk
instead. The President at first had expressed some scepticism on account of
her being a young woman, but eventually had accepted her.

Vincent did not know much about Davoren's background, only that ShinRa
valued him, and that virtually everyone who worked in that company honoured
him greatly. Indeed, even those who hated him felt a certain amount of
respect for this Turk: for when Davoren performed his job, he made sure it
was a job well done.

When Gerald had finished venting his hatred on children in general, the
conversation turned to the Reactor incident of three days ago.

"Ey, lad," Gerald smiled at Vincent, "And how'd ye manage with those
terrorists? Yer arm was injuired, I hear."

"Oh, it was nothing, really," Vincent mumbled, swirling his coffee cup
nervously, "The bullet only grazed my arm. In fact, it barely touched my skin."

"Aye. Well, never ye mind," he comforted, nodding his head knowledgeably,
"I'm sure ye'll do better next time, lad. We were all beginners at one
stage."

Vincent only knit his brows as a response. It annoyed him when Gerald
treated him as a clueless "beginner"...almost as much as that ridiculous
nickname "lad".

"Huh! He may be a beginner Turk," Davoren interjected, puffing his
cigarette coolly, "But he's a first-class master with that gun of
his...*WAY* better than you, Gerald."

Gerald, of course, instantly demanded an explanation. So, Davoren began a
lengthy description of Vincent's impressive skills with the gun,
emphasizing his accuracy in particular.

The two Turks, especially Cindy, listened very attentively, but Vincent
only fidgetted nervously in his seat. Praise, even well-meant, had never
pleased him at all. He was more satisfied to fulfil his duty without
recounting the means.

"Bet you can't do THAT with a gun, Gerald," teased Cindy, trying to look
innocent, "And you can't call it 'beginner's luck' either, eh?"

"Balderdash!" scoffed Gerald as he crushed his cigarette into the ashtray.
He eyed Vincent with evident interest, but said nothing.

"Wait, I'm not finished yet," Davoren chuckled, "Lemme tell you how he
wasted the last terrorist..."

The image of Lucrecia suddenly sprang to Vincent's mind as Davoren began
the little story. His hand involinairily reached for the cheek she had
slapped so violently. Her slap, in fact, had hurt him more than the
gunshot.

"Who was that?" Vincent asked when Davoren had finished talking.

"Hm? Who was what?"

"That..that woman the terrorist had hostage," Vincent explained timidly,
"Who was she?"

"Oh..um...she's that new lab assistant..," Davoren thought aloud, his
cigarette in his mouth, "..yeah..I think her name's Lucrecia.."

No sooner had Davoren uttered her name, than Gerald spat out the coffee he
was sipping. He appeared very excited all of a sudden.

"Are ye joking?!" he cried, grabbing Vincent's sleeve frantically, "Ye
saved Lucrecia, did ye?!!"

"Uh..yeah..I guess.."

"Aye! You lucky dog, you!!"

Several people in the cafe turned their heads towards the direction of the
Turks. Cindy glared suspiciously at Gerald, not at all pleased with his
obvious enthusiasm. She then began to coolly poke at her piece of cake with
a fork. Davoren smoked his cigarette silently, wondering why that woman's
name had aroused such excitement in this Turk.

"I bet she was all over ye!" laughed Gerald with a sly nudge, "C'mon! Out
with it! What's she say to ye, lad?"

Vincent's cheeks flushed slightly in confusion: he could have said that
Lucrecia had slapped him, called him a jackass amongst other things, then
stormed away without any thanks. But instead, Vincent only answered,
"Nothing, actually...she just walked away."

"Don't be too disappointed, lad," Gerald sighed, "She's always after
giving us poor men the brush-off. But damn me if she isn't a fine, pleasing
lit'le thing!!"

"Huh! You seem to know a lot about Lucrecia, Gerald," Cindy muttered with
apparent scorn. She placed one hand under her chin, and impertintly looked
away.

"And who wouldn't?" he snapped back defiantly, "Just about every man here
has noticed her! But she always gives 'em the cold-shoulder!"

Vincent tapped the table top, sorry he had mentioned the subject. Davoren
continued to puff at his cigarette quietly. This conversation only
interested him mildly.

"She only thinks of her work," Gerald complained, turning to Vincent
again, "All she ever does is run around that lab upstairs. She won't even
give a man a chance to open his mouth 'afore she walks away! Aye, she's too
obsessed with her job, she is."

"I believe the word is 'dedicated'," corrected Cindy.

"Mebbe so...but what an absolute angel! A beautiful face! A nice lit'le
waist I'm sure any man'd love to hold..a pair of slender legs..an'.."

"Now, Gerald," Davoren scolded firmly, "None of THAT, please."

"I'm telling ye, lad," Gerald resumed after he apologized, "I once tried
to chat her up. Dammy, she wouldn't let me finish me sentence! She just
brushed past me like I wasn't there at all! I think it was me accent she
didn't like."

"Yeah..that must've been it," Cindy mumbled sarcastically. She only
"humph"ed when Gerald glared at her.

"Ey! Ey! Lemme tell ye this story, lad!" Gerald resumed, much amused,
"See, every man in ShinRa was interested in Lucrecia when she first came.
One day, Donal went up to her an'.."

But the minute he blurted out that name, Gerald instantly smacked both
hands over his mouth. Cindy gave a violent start at the name, then darted
her head towards Davoren in alarm. Vincent looked around at the nervous
company, wondering why the name "Donal" frigthened the two Turks so much.

Davoren, however, puffed out a cloud of smoke in a very cool manner, as
though Gerald had said nothing at all.

"D..Davoren..Sir..," Gerald stammered anxiously, "I..I'm sorry..I
shouldn't ha'.."

"Excuse me," Davoren replied curtly, "The President said he wanted to see
me now."

After carelessly flicking his cigarette into the ashtray, Davoren walked
away from the group. He said nothing more.

An unnatural silence fell on the group when their leader had left.

The remaining three Turks, especially Cindy and Gerald, fidgetted
nervously in their seats. Judging from their apparent embarrassment,
Vincent guessed this "Donal" fellow bore great importance to Davoren.
Gerald coughed to ease the tension, but that only added to his awkwardness.
Cindy's brown eyes flared up at him in anger.

"You and your big mouth!!" she snapped at him all of a sudden, "You just
HAD to mention Donal! Couldn't sleep tonight unless you said his name,
could you?!"

"Look, I'm sorry!" Gerald apologized fiercely, "I didn't mean to say his
name!! It was a fliipin' accident!!!! Alright?!!!"

the two dissentient Turks began to argue vehemently, one accusing while
the other defending, until Vincent asked bluntly "Who's Donal?"

Both Turks stopped short on hearing the simple question, then suddenly
fell quiet again. Vincent watched them hum and haw for a full minute, each
waiting for the other to speak first.

"Donal was the Turk before ye, lad," Gerald finally replied, "..He was
Davoren's lit'le brother...his only brother.."

Vincent was silent for a moment before he inquired, "Did he have a fight
with Davoren? Is that why you're not supposed yo mention his name?"

"No. Donal disappeared...about seven months ago..and still 'aven't been
found yet."

In half an hour, the two Turks had finished recounting the full story:
Donal, a sprightly young man barely 21 years old, was sent on a simple
escort mission to some remote town called Wutai. One week later, he
mysteriously disappeared.

Naturally, ShinRa Inc. combed the entire island for Donal, questioned
several witnesses, even sent a full search party to Wutai. Nothing. The
Turk had simply vanished off the face of the earth.

"But the mongrels searched for only two weeks!" remarked Gerald
contemptuously, "'Full search party', bloody muck! They never even found
his body!"

Nevertheless, Donal was declared to be dead, at least officially. ShinRa,
indeed gave up the costly search after only two weeks, and easily found a
substitute: Vincent.

However, Davoren angirly demanded ShinRa continue the search for his
missing brother. When President ShinRa refused, Davoren insulted the man
straight to his face, then signed his own resignation paper: If ShinRa
would not search for his brother, he personally would.

"He..quit??" Vincent interrupted in amazement.

"No way!" Cindy answered, shaking her head vigorously, "The President
refused point blank to accept Davoren's resignation, even after all the
insults. Good Turks like him are hard to find, if you know what I mean."

"So..what happened after that?"

"Well, Davoren kept on insisting his brother was alive, and ShinRa kept on
telling him he was dead, until the poor man had a serious mental breakdown.
They even had to hospitalize him later on."

"Aye," Gerald agreed with a melancholy sigh, "Davoren had practically
raised his lit'le brother. And when he lost him so suddenly, ye might say
he lost his will to live as well."

The President, realizing how devestating the loss had been on Davoren,
immediately granted him an extended vacation for three months; to "get his
life back together", as he later expressed. Gerald and Cindy, under the
President's orders, advised Davoren to take the needed vacation, and stay
in ShinRa. Too heartbroken to argue, Davoren eventually agreed.

"Y'know that day we stormed the Reactor was his first day back on the
job," Cindy concluded at last, "He appears to be coping well..but I don't
think he ever recovered from the blow."

A heavy silence fell on the three Turks again, making them appear very
awkward to the other people in the cafe; even the waitress who brought them
the check could not help giving them an odd look. Cindy gazed vacantly at
Gerald twirl his fork between his clumsy fingers. Vincent placed one hand
under his chin, and stared at the dismal grey skyline outside the huge
glazed windows.

He felt particularly embarrassed for starting this conversation. His mind
fumbled for some excuse to leave until the intercom on the wall saved him.

"Mr. Valentine," called a clear voice through the intercom, "Please report
to the President's office. Mr. Valentine to the President's office."

Vincent immediately rose to leave, mumbling a hurried farewell to the two
Turks. However, Cindy stood up with him as well.

"Wait, I'll walk you there, Vincent," she smiled coquettishly, glancing at
the astonished Gerald for a moment, "I have something very important to
tell you."

Before Vincent had a chance to protest, the woman slipped her graceful
arm around his, and smiled so innocently into his face so as to render him
silent. Gerald, fuming with rage for some unknown reason, scoffed audibly
as he turned his head away from the two. Cindy pretended she had seen
nothing, then sweetly pulled Vincent out of the cafe.

"Heh heh," she sniggered when they had left, "Gerald's so cute when he
gets angry.."

The two walked down the corridor to the President's office, brushing past
employees who bustled about to finish their work. It was already six
o'clock in the evening. Vincent did not quite understand what "important"
thing Cindy wished to tell him, but asked no questions.

She probably just wanted to tease Gerald..the little flirt, he thought to
himself.

As the two ascended the steps to the office, Cindy suddenly tugged
Vincent's arm to stop him. Her face still retained a childishly sweet
expression, but her brown eyes lit up with a cunning gleam.

"Hey, Vincent," she whispered, peering slyly into his quizzical face, "Do
you know *who* asked me about you yesterday?"

From her guileful look and playful voice, Vincent guessed he should know.
Unfortunately, no one came to his mind. He only shrugged his shoulders
defeatedly.

"Why, Lucrecia, silly!" she announced.

"What?!" he cried, completely stunned with the answer.

"Oh, yeah, it's true," Cindy resumed innocently, "See, yesterday, I was
hanging around the Main Reception Hall, when she walked up to me. She asked
me if a knew a Turk called 'Valentine'. Of course, I pretended I was stupid
and asked her to describe you for me, which she did. I could tell she was
REALLY interested in you just from the way she described you."

Vincent blinked in surprise at her. Her sinister artfulness simply
astounded him.

"'Oh!' I said, 'THAT Valentine!'. So, I told her a bit about you," Cindy
laughed, winking at him,
"Don't worry, I put in a good word for you."

He only managed to nod his head as acknowledgment for her kindness.

"I'm happy she'd interested in you, Vincent," Cindy smiled angelically,
"Goodness only knows WHAT I would have done to her if she were interested
in Gerald. She would have made me really jealous!"

So, with another carefree laugh, Cindy bade Vincent a sweet adieu, and
skipped down the stairs. Vincent's eyes followed her until she had
disappeared from his sight, then resumed his journey up the steps.

He had plenty of time to collect his scattered thoughts; plenty of time to
push away all those "useless frivolities" and "silly nonsense". So that by
the time he reached the President's office, Vincent had completely
re-focused his mind on his job.