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". . . In any case," Elena said, "our job is to find out where Sephiroth is headed. And to try and stop you every step of the way." She looked confused and shook her head. "Wait a minute, it's the other way around ... You're the one's that are getting in our way."

Tseng smiled for just a moment, before donning his usual expressionless look and walking out onto the ledge. "Elena, you talk too much."

She looked surprised and even a little embarrassed. "Mr. Tseng?"

He shook his head. "No need to tell them about our orders."

"Sorry . . . Tseng." She hung her head, the perfect picture of a contrite rookie.

"I thought I gave you other orders." He was surprised that Cloud and his friends were just standing around, watching the exchange. Maybe AVALANCHE wasn't as clever as they needed them to be. "Now go," he said evenly. "Don't forget to file your report."

"Oh! Right!" Elena exclaimed, tapping her heels together and saluting. "Very well, Rude and I will go after Sephiroth, who's heading for Junon Harbour."

Tseng almost smiled, but that would have ruined their little ploy. Instead, he shrugged in a disappointed way. "Elena. You don't seem to understand." She was so good at this. And Cloud Strife was just desperate enough to fall for it.

She rocked back on her heels. "Oh! I'm, I'm sorry...."

He shook his head. "Go. Don't let Sephiroth get away."

Both Rude and Elena saluted him. "Yes sir!"

Elena hurried away. Tseng waited, listening impassively as Rude passed along Reno's threat. Elena was quite the actor, which was precisely what they needed at the moment. Reno and Rude could get the job done, alright, but no one would believe it if they let their tongues slip about their orders. They'd needed someone else, someone who could be believably ditzy, in order to carry out Rufus' plan.

"Sir? You wanted to see me?" Tseng asks, bowing even though Rufus' back is to him.

Rufus remains where he is, by the glass plated wall of what had been his father's office, staring out at the city. His shotgun rests on the desk which looms between them. "What do you think of AVALANCHE?" the young president asks.

Tseng blinks. "Sir?"

Rufus turns toward him, a lazy smile creeping onto his lips. "I think they would make very convenient tools," he says. He walks slowly forward to the desk and trails his fingers along the barrel of his shotgun. "You see, Cloud Strife has a ... history ... with Shinra. One that guarantees his hatred of Sephiroth."

Tseng nods slowly. "I have read his file, sir."

"I have no desire to lose any of you in battle with that maniac Sephiroth. If we allow Strife and Avalanche to remain one step ahead of the Turks or, rather, lead them on and let them think they are ahead of you...." he pauses, sweeping back his strawberry-blonde locks with one hand.

"I understand, sir."

Rufus smiles, and a knowing look passes between them. "Good, Tseng. See to it."

Tseng allows himself a small smile in return. "Of course, sir."

Rude hurried past him and out of the cave.

"Well, then. . . ." Tseng gathered his thoughts as he walked forward a few steps. He scanned the threesome below him. "Where's Aeris? She's not with you?"

"Aeris isn't with us," Cloud answered. "She's with the others."

/Ah, yes, the master of redundant statements strikes again./ "I see. Then give her my regards." /And let them decipher that one for themselves/, Tseng thought as he turned and walked away.

Outside, he stepped into the waiting helicopter. Rude and Elena were going by chocobo to Fort Condor. Scarlet was looking for "big, huge, large materia," and Rufus had given the okay for the Turks to take a look around the Condor reactor. Junon and Sephiroth were still their first priority, but given Strife's habit of exploring every tiny nook and cranny of every place he encountered, they had time enough to get there ahead of him without running into Sephiroth.

Tseng shook his head. So many plots and counter-plots, all with the potential to blow up in the Turks' faces. It was becoming more and more difficult to simply follow orders and get the job done. Too much hung in the balance of which orders had priority.

As the chopper rose up and over the peaks of the Mithril Mountains, Tseng glanced back at the ground. /What is Strife looking for?/ he wondered. Whatever it was, he hoped it had something to do with Sephiroth.

* * *

As they rode away from the Mine, Elena couldn't help chuckling to herself. Rude gave her a funny look, probably expecting her to be mortified and apologetic after that discussion with Tseng in the Mine. Tseng hadn't told him what to expect - not because he didn't trust Rude, but just because the fewer who knew, the better such deceptions worked.

Rude moved his chocobo closer to hers. "What's so funny?" he asked. He might have been frowning, but it was hard to see his expression behind his glasses.

"Well," she began, but her wrist-com beeped. Raising her wrist, she read Tseng's signature on the com panel of her watch. "Elena here," she said.

His voice in her ear-piece was staticy because of the mountain relay towers. "Good work, Elena. Tell Rude about Rufus' real orders, and don't let him sulk about being left out of the first part."

/Rude, sulking?/ She almost laughed. "Yes, sir."

"Don't rush too much, but don't let Strife catch up with you, either. Reno and I will meet you at Junon."

"Yes, sir. We'll see you there."

Her wrist-com bleeped again as Tseng signed off. She glanced up, glad the chocobo she was riding was a fairly sensible one. "That was Tseng."

Rude grunted.

"We'll camp near Fort Condor in a couple hours. I'll bring you up to date on everything there."

Rude's shoulders tensed. His body language said he was /not/ happy at the thought of being briefed by a rookie. "Right," was all he said, prodding his chocobo to step up its pace.

/Maybe he does sulk,/ Elena thought. /Men! Do they have to be the center of everything!?/ Of course, Tseng was excluded from that sweeping generalization - not because he wasn't a man - but because their boss was simply so . . . distanced from everything. Ego was just not an issue for him. /Ego . . . heh. . . ./

On a quiet street corner in Sector Five, a round grey-stone building sat, genteely ignoring its glass, steel and concrete neighbours. Twin oak doors faced the corner of the intersection, closed tight despite the mid-day traffic on the streets. Inside, muffled and insulated from the street, a troop of actors blocked out scenes on a wooden stage. Row upon row of empty blue theatre chairs were their only audience.

"I know not what thing you call me, nor why. Perchance you mistake me for another?" Innocent blue eyes stare guilelessly up at a green-eyed antagonist.

"Lady, you have done me wrong. Discard this seeming. I know the truth of your misdeeds."

Blue eyes blink slowly. "And what deeds are those, my lord?" No hint of guilt mars her features, no nervous actions betray her emotions.

Dark eyes watch from the shadows, blue suit blending with the seat. Every nuance of the act on stage is caught, memorized, filed for reference.

"Murder and betrayal!" He advances on her menacingly, but she stands her ground proudly. "Why maintain this pretence of innocence?" Green eyes study her intensely, and the tableau holds, the theatre tense with anticipation.

"Break!" a voice calls from the shadowy wings of the stage, and the tension melts away.

Blue eyes laugh now, as she slips lithely to the edge of the stage, and leaps to the floor some six feet below.

On the stage above, green eyes show mild disbelief. "Geez, 'Lena. It's only a rehearsal!"

Hands on her hips, she turns back. "And if I don't make you believe me now, who's going to believe me on opening night, hmm?"

A helpless shrug is the only response.

"Elena?"

Blinking, she focused on Rude. "What?"

"Quit day-dreaming already. We're nearly there."

"Oh." She'd given up trying to decipher Rude's moods after only a day on the job. Tseng was far easier to read than the bald man was, despite his glacial front. "Right. Sorry." She gave him a sunny smile, but he only grunted. He was never much a conversationalist - not with her anyway, and she hadn't had a chance to see him and Reno work together, so who knew what he was like then.

Fort Condor loomed ahead of them, rising up in lonely solitude out of the grasslands.

/Rather like a pimple,/ Elena thought dryly.

"What are we doing here, anyway?" Rude asked as they drew to halt in the shadows of the hill.

"Looking for big materia, huge materia, really large materia," Elena said innocently.

His sunglasses stared blankly at her.

"Let me explain."

* * *

Back in Midgar, Tseng was trying very hard not to laugh at Reno's outraged expression.

"That @&%$& ROOKIE! Dammit, Tseng, she sent my suits to the damn DRY-CLEANERS!!! They're all STARCHY!"

Tseng folded one arm across his chest and raised his other hand to his lips, trying to look serious. "Well, Reno, dress code -- "

"Dress code?!" Reno growled indignantly. He stormed across the room, yanked one of the offending suits off its hanger, and flung it at Tseng. The suit maintained its impersonation of plywood surprisingly well. "How the hell am I supposed to wear THAT!?!?!"

Tseng stood the suit to one side. "Get new ones, then. You have three days before we leave for Junon." With one last, calm, look at Reno, whose complexion was rivaling his hair colour, he turned and walked back out of the room.

Outside, he allowed himself to laugh. Oh yes, life for the Turks was going to be very ... interesting ... from now on. All thanks to Elena.

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A fanfic by Liz.
Characters © 1997 Squaresoft.

Part Two: Rookie in Junon

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