Author's Foreword: First, and most importantly, Happy Holidays to everyone! I can't believe it's going to be the New Year already, I'd say how time flies, but I guess that's a given as you get older. ;)

Next, I've put some new links on my bio page. I added the third chapter of "The Selphie Letters" which is about Rinoa and Squall's infamous holiday cards, with pictures! It's posted Archive of Our Own (A03) you don't need an account to read it or make fun of me, your choice. (My family easily takes the latter) Also posted at AO3 is "Until I Fall Away" a one-shot/rewrite of the rain scene in After the Fall. It's my first adventure into more mature content and I'd love to get some feedback.

Okay, guess that's it for the darn long notes. Yep. After this, there are four more chapters left. I thank everyone for their support, I truly appreciate it you'll never know how much this has helped me through.

Chapter Seventy-Six: Hollow Pursuits

In the past few minutes alone, she'd made several attempts to open her mouth to say something but, as soon as a thought came to mind, the will to follow through dissipated just as quickly. Their silence was becoming so unnerving. Yes, there were some erratic sounds leaking from their headsets, but to her it was nothing but muffled background noise. In the beginning, Squall had been the only one to speak, saying a few words here and there to Lauren, but the sentences were always abrupt and were three words at best.

Rinoa would have liked any exchange of conversation, a simple line, or even a comment – anything that didn't make her feel completely invisible.

Maybe Squall thrived in invisibility, but her mind equated it with emptiness. Even her posh surroundings seemed to echo the sentiment. The marble might have been expensive, but it was cold and impersonal. The feeling reminded her of her youth when her father would drag her to a distant relative's house for holidays. At first, the size and beauty was overpowering but, after the awe wore down, the only thing left was that uncomfortable feeling that she didn't belong.

Say what you will for its hospitality, but even the van-from-hell had taken on its own personality. How pathetic did she sound wishing they had been stationed there instead? The guys would have scoffed at her, but at least it was equipped with beanbags and throw pillows, although not exactly SeeD-issued.

Gnawing at her lip, she looked at the monitors and wondered what great life-altering promises the politicians were BS-ing their way through. In some rather ridiculous oversight, there had only been two pairs of headsets left. Leave it to the world's most advanced country to set up a command center with four monitors, three chairs, and only two headsets. Apparently, math wasn't their strong suit.

As for Squall and Zell, they had been intently watching the screens. She inwardly smiled, glancing over to them. The commander was living up to his reputation for being thorough; he'd observed every detail, filing the information in his mind. When push came to shove, they were both damn good at their jobs. She had always been impressed with their work ethics, even if she had questioned the ethics of their work - a very important difference to distinguish between.

There had been an opening address by someone that Squall hadn't been familiar with; not that he kept himself privy to the inner workings of Esthar's political infrastructure but, over the years, he had become acquainted with a few key players. The aide's speech focused on 'unity,' 'improvement,' and other political buzz words that he made sure to repeat often. Squall knew how this rhetoric worked, designed to invoke specific responses from the listener.

Repetition bred familiarity, diversion removed focus and, at its heart, Esthar's could have used a little more 'diversion.'

How nobody had caught on to this circular bullshit yet, Squall would never understand.

Finally, the commander finally caught a glimpse of Kiros waiting in the wings from the side of the screen. The first hour and a half of this pomp-and-circumstance shit had finally come to an end. It was show time, both on the stage and behind the scenes. Instinctively, Squall leaned forward to get a closer look. If the plan was to succeed, it would most likely come to an end soon. To be safe, they were buying Sirtis extra time; the man was too methodical to need it, but they needed anything at their disposal to put a bigger target on Kiros. Squall had him to take time, upping the ante by taking questions and answers from the press, if necessary.

"Lynx, he's on deck," Lauren stated over the radio, giving the commander a heads up.

Squall knew that she was using the name just to irritate him. It was stubborn, annoying and something he might have done if the situation had been reversed. She was stuck on protocol and was, in no uncertain terms, subtly letting the commander know that he was skirting around it.

"Copy that," he replied. After the connection was cut, he added under his breath, "Subtle my ass."

As he spoke, Rinoa looked at him – half in awe that he'd spoken, half in awe that the words included 'my ass.' She had no idea what Lauren had said, but at least somebody said something; it had been the first time she heard an actual voice going on near forty five minutes. It was easy to see that his demeanor had intensified tenfold and from where she sat, she actually became anxious. To an unknowing bystander, Squall's stoic expression didn't give anything away. Honestly, he could fool the best of them in Dollet's gambling halls; nobody would know what type of hand he had as he always kept his cards close to his chest. The man simply had no tell for others to read… at least, to everyone save for herself.

To quote Quistis, Rinoa would consider herself an 'expert Squall observer' at least as much of an expert as any living person could have been. There were subtle signs she could pick up on right now - the way his necked craned slightly to the right, the way his thumb nail dug into his fist, and even the way only the ball of his right foot rested on the ground. Normally, he would have them evenly placed, but the slightly raised foot was a habit she had picked up on during the travels. He waited that way in case he needed to stand up quickly. He only did this during missions and on the rare occasions when Irvine would start sharing detailed accounts of his conquests. It was always meant for a quick escape.

It was the little things about Squall that said it all.

She momentarily had to wonder if Lauren had ever noticed them too. Inwardly, she scolded herself at that thought; she hated making comparisons. To different extents, she had been that way ever since she saw them together at the wedding. Of all the times her mind decided to play that game, she didn't know why she was doing it now.

Shaking those thoughts, she opened her mouth to speak for the umpteenth time in the last hour. It would have been simple and nonintrusive, but just like before, as soon as she started to speak, the words vanished. With a sigh, she glanced between the monitor and the headset; she was tired of doubting herself. Then again, maybe Squall was right, sometimes saying nothing at all said the most. Maybe that was true, maybe she could say her encouragement by actions. Showing no signs of hesitation, she placed her hand over his as it rested on his leg. He flinched. The reaction was more out of surprise than anything, but relaxed just as quickly.

When they had been waiting for the first speaker before, he had been the one to reach out to her when she needed it. As the press conference started, he had to focus on work. He would need to not divide his concentration here too, but at least for now, she had mirrored his action; he - might not have needed - but appreciated it.

And as the last speaker wrapped up, Squall felt that familiar feeling… No, it wasn't the frontlines, but even he was taken aback with the sheer amount of adrenaline flooding his veins. Getting to this point had required so much, but there was still so much left to get. His mind raced with so many thoughts, so many questions. He hadn't even realized that he had been holding her hand tighter until he heard a surprised whimper beside him.

He gave her hand a quick squeeze. Honestly too embarrassed to look at her right now, although was apologetic. He knew that she understood, she was feeling the same emotions too; even he could feel her pulse by holding her hand - her heart was beating just as fast as his. All his life, he had hated being distracted on a mission and he always considered her a distraction but, maybe, just maybe he had been looking at this wrong...

…She wasn't a distraction, she was his reason; she wasn't a hindrance, she was his muse.

Rinoa smiled when he didn't protest. It brought back memories of all the times she had seen Irvine and Selphie holding hands on missions; all those times she pretended not to notice… all those times Squall did notice and as their superior, corrected them on it. Now that it was his fingers interlocked with hers, she had to wonder what his superior would say. Then again, for her own sanity, maybe she was better not knowing.

"He's up."

Rinoa had never heard Squall more uncertain, at least when it came to work. Even saying those two words showed a glimpse into how much this meant to him. They all had a hell of a high stake riding on this. She wished this was as simple as a card game in Dollet. It was one thing to be betting with money, but it was quite another to be gambling with someone's life.

Five minutes, thirty seconds…
Thirty-one seconds…

Nobody could recall when they had taken their last breath. Each second steadily ticked away, a metronome silently mocking them. It had been over five minutes since Kiros had taken the microphone; Rinoa was fairly certain that was the last time she remembered to breathe. Physiologically speaking, it couldn't have been but it damn well felt that way. She felt sick. It was the waiting, the uncertainty, it was not even knowing if Sirtis had taken the bait. In short, it was the purest form of agony.

Squall had let go of her hand along the way though he didn't even consciously remember letting go. He and Zell had been working on auto pilot and often he often didn't think about his actions, only acting on instinct. That wasn't always good; he found that out the hard way. So, he would stop to center himself every so often.

It was one of the exercises the therapists had taught him in case he found himself in a 'dangerous situation.' He was a fucking SeeD. With the number of people who wanted him dead on a daily basis, waking up could have been classified as a 'dangerous situation.' He thought the doctor was full of complete and utter bullshit but he played nicely - just to get out of the session. Yet now, he found it was helping to some extent... Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone.

The commander reached forward and cycled through the camera feeds, trying to get the broadest view of the audience. There was no point in watching Kiros; it would have been too late by the time they saw him react. They needed to do their best to find Sirtis but it seemed like a seemingly-impossible task given their limited view.

He switched feeds again. And again. He was trying to a wide angle of the crowd, looking toward the podium. He found himself getting upset - nothing was what he needed. He would have asked for a certain shot, but hell, he didn't even know what he was looking for – he'd just know when he saw it.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to take a moment. The longer this went on, the harder it became. Another few seconds, another camera switch. He managed to cycle through all of them within a minute.

Seven minutes, thirty-nine seconds…
Forty…

Yet, something in his mind was willing him to go back to a more narrowed view from the side. Logically, it was an unlikely scenario because it had the most uniformed security in the shot, including two SeeDs. But there was something here, something obvious. Leaning close to the screen, he focused all his attention on a particular figure.

The fact was that this was almost too textbook. Squall realized that was the only reason his mind had fixated on this person. He was wearing a heavy coat. A few workers had light jackets on for set-up in the morning, but once the sun was up it became too warm. Squall had noted the temperature at the time. It was pleasant, not too cold, not too hot yet, and far from coat weather. Mix the extra layers with closed-mass of spectators and this person was almost screaming out to be noticed.

The most telling clue was that this man (most likely male, given the broad shoulders) still had his back towards the camera, but had slowly been making his way backwards. Again, most people would make their way to the front or at least to the sides so they could leave… but not this man. Again, he was doing the opposite of what a soldier trained in stealth would do.

"Check in a secondary monitor to see if you can find this guy from another angle. I'll keep my eyes on him, not switching feeds to be safe." Squall pointed him out on the center monitor. "Tan coat, brown hat. It's warm; he's too unseasonably dressed. Spotted him about one-third up, but he's been pulling back."

"Back?" Zell questioned, having the same doubts as Squall, "That's a little weird."

"He's obvious… too damn obvious, that's for sure. It's basic 101 surveillance. Even the way he's walking with short, unnatural steps is off. It's like a first-time shoplifter wearing a big sign. This guy was fucking Special Forces. He's not going to act like that."

"Or, you know, he is." Zell stated offhandedly, watching the screen. "The same guy who might've shot me to hide the fact he was a marksman, might be the same guy who's looking so obvious we wouldn't waste our time on him."

There was something so blaringly suspicious about this that Squall began to question himself. It was something he rarely did in battle situations, but this truly defied logic and training. In fact, Squall did something he rarely, if ever, did. He voiced his thoughts, working on them like they were a puzzle. Usually he did this in his head, but maybe working through this together would help.

"Maybe he's lining up a shot? Maybe he needs some specific range? He could be a distraction to something else, or al-" He abruptly stopped, looking over to the far left corner of the screen. "Shit. Lauren. She's right there, scanning the crowd."

He had seen her standing in uniform, there was no way this coated-figure hadn't either.

Eight minutes, fifteen seconds…
Sixteen seconds…

The man never shied away. Steadily, he continued to make his way towards her - there was something very wrong about this entire picture. By now, Squall had made his way to his feet. He didn't know why as he couldn't exactly do anything under the circumstances and by the time he could get anywhere even close to the suspect, it would be far too late.

"You don't think that he's going to?" Rinoa's voice was so soft, one had to strain to hear it. "Is he-?" she asked a little louder.

"I don't know," the commander said abruptly, "We never considered him switching targets. Fuck this."

"He's still inching his way over, about four meters and closing." Zell pointed out, although it was already evident.

"Lauren?" Squall asked, hoping they still had a radio connection. He could see her on the monitor, it looked like she was talking, but it certainly wasn't to him.

"Read you, lynx." The commander didn't even have time to consider nicknames, but had never been so glad to hear her voice.

"Two o'clock, tan jacket, may be subject."

"We already have eyes on him from above. Two o'clock, moving backwards, right?" she repeated for verification.

"Affirmative."

On camera, they watched as she switched communicators to talk with her team. Squall covered his ear, straining to hear the sound, but she'd intentionally left his communicator on so he could listen this time. He heard her order cover, directing a few SeeDs to close in around her position.

"What's she doing?" Zell asked rhetorically. There was an aspect of disbelief as his mind fought to believe.

"Turn around! He's right there. Damn it, turn around!" Rinoa hoarsely managed as the words caught in her throat. She could no longer remain seated; she wanted to run, but just like Squall, she knew it would be too late.

It became too hard to look at the screen and she didn't care if she looked weak. When it came to watching someone die right before her – she damn well was. She held onto Squall's bicep, burying her head in his arm. She couldn't help but steal glances at the screen despite wanting to shield her eyes, morbid curiosity kept taking over. It was like watching a horror movie; here she was, pointlessly yelling at the young co-ed on screen, hoping she'd see the killer slink up from behind. The only difference was that the victim in the movies never could hear the warnings, but Lauren had; in Rinoa's opinion, she was outright ignoring them and it was downright maddening.

"Shhh," Squall spoke quietly. He gently reached over and rubbed her back as reassurance.

Nine minutes, fourteen seconds
Fifteen seconds…

He knew that Rinoa was worried about Lauren. There was some irony in this, but that was the furthest thing from his mind. Right now, every thought was with his team in the field. Even if Rinoa did not, he understood everything Lauren was doing.

Keeping his voice low, he did his best to explain. "She knows it's too risky to face him. It might spook him. He could feel cornered and panic which could lead to a potential hostage situation. She's doing the right thing for the crowd's safety. It's always them over us. It also buys time for back up."

"Do not shoot. Repeat, no open fire. We need him alive and without casualties." It was Laruen's voice. Rinoa could barely hear and only made out certain words.

Squall shook his head in disbelief. "This is too easy. I don't like it."

"I agree." The martial artist finally stood. He'd been listening intently but nothing was adding up. "He's a marksmen - why is he risking close range? He would have had to go through security check points to even get this far. What is planning? Hell… we don't even know if it's him or just some damn guy in a coat."

"Security check points are shit. We both know that. Sure, they may stop the average person, but we're talking far above the norm here. If this guy wants to bring a weapon in – he's going to bring a weapon in. You know we both would."

"Tch. You're right." There wasn't a point in arguing against that logic, even though it was far from reassuring right now.

"Then again, he's so obvious that I don't know if it's him. I don't fucking know." He was questioning everything about this. Was he falling for some trap while someone else took the shot?

Feeling his seething anger, Rinoa let go of Squall's arm and took a step back. He needed his space and she would only irritate him. She didn't want to add to his growing aggravation.

She willed herself to look at the screen. Lauren outwardly seemed to be collected, but even she began to shift her weight wait the longer she waited. For the first time, she could see that her resolve was cracking. Rinoa had grown up with a father who was never fazed, who always stood tall no matter what was thrown his way. For every situation, there was an answer and for every action, there was an outlined reaction that he followed to a T.

Yet as she stood, she saw three SeeDs unable to handle this because it went against everything they knew.

When Squall slammed his fist down in anger, she jumped. It surprised her but watching him and the others fall apart, she understood because quite simply – they couldn't see beyond their blinders.

"It's him," she said firmly, pointing towards the screen. "He's done exactly what he set out to do… or at least in part. I have no idea why, but everything he's doing is the opposite of what he's supposed to be doing."

"Great Rin, now you're just as confusing as him."

"That's it. She's right." Squall quickly moved forward and sat down in the chair. He motioned for the others to follow. "He's not hiding in the shadows, he's hiding in plain sight. He's not blending in, he's standing out. He's not shying away from security, he's moving toward them. He probably knows enough to see Lauren's the field commander right now. And because of everything he's not doing, we're becoming frustrated. It's become mental warfare and we fell right into it."

"…He counted on our training to take over. We were focusing on too many questions that really didn't need to be answered." Zell realized. "So then, if he's being obvious on purpose, what's his game?"

"I believe he was messing with us for some twisted version of fun. Whatever he has planned hasn't changed, he just showed us that he's the one in control. He's gained the upper-hand by doing nothing. He knows the SeeDs won't close in until we know for sure. They wouldn't want to blow what could be their one chance."

Ten minutes even…

Ten minutes after Kiros took the microphone, all doubts had been erased. Again, in one deliberate move, Sirtis turned towards the camera. He knew they were watching him. He smiled.

Rinoa's mouth went dry as her mind was conflicted. This man was supposed to be the devil incarnate, yet he'd also stood with her as she mourned. The same man who tried to kill Squall was the same man she told about her mother's garden. That was something she hadn't shared with anybody and yet she picked him of all people to open to.

She knew the answer - he was a sociopath. Everything he said to her at the funeral had been an act of calculation. He had her talking about her loss and about the pain he'd caused; he had the upper hand then and she hadn't seen it. She, like the families of all his victims, was used as a means to end just so he could get off on his own perverse needs, a mere instrument.

When his eyes glared into the camera, she knew he was still playing the same game. He had just manipulated an entire team of SeeDs into doubting themselves and probably enjoyed the hell out of it.

As for Squall, the only thing he had seen was a man filled with emptiness.

It hadn't been the burning hatred he had expected or even the raw, conflicted emotions Seifer had carried years back. There simply was nothing he could make out, nothing that actually made sense. The look at the camera had only lasted two seconds at most, but it would be another image that Squall would never forget.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he swallowed hard. It seemed like Sirtis was ready to make his move and he knew that Kiros wasn't the one in danger, Lauren was. They had never thought about changing targets – he would blame himself later for his shortsightedness. He didn't ever fucking deserve to be commander. It was one tragic mistake after another. In the end, he would have more blood on his already-tainted hands and in the end Garden would still make him the damn hero in the end.

With every step Sirtis took forward, Squall felt himself being dragged back into that darkness. He had found himself hypnotized by the television; it had become the vessel to pull him back into his own personal hell.

"Commander?" Zell had noticed this change, he had seen that haunted look back at the funeral.

Taking a deep breath, Squall knew what he had to do – his damn job. His next words were calmer than they had ever been on any mission.

"Lauren, three meters and slowly closing. Still at two o'clock. Backup holding approximately six meters out. Have them pull back to about ten. Remain at the side, do not re-engage the crowd."

"Copy, lynx."

Rinoa still didn't know if she could watch - death wasn't something that she could ever get used to. She so badly wanted to bury herself back in Squall's arms, but that was the selfish part of her. Now, more than ever, he didn't need to worry about her; there was a time where they all had to grow up and face the inevitable alone. This was just another one of those times for her.

Closing her eyes, she listened for any sign of what was happening. Low rumbles crackled through the earpiece, commands now being screamed by a male through the headsets, and even the uneasy breathing of her husband. Even without using her sight, it felt like every sense was on fire, overloaded by fear.

Squall couldn't be annoyed with Rinoa's choice not to watch – this wasn't her life. She didn't choose it, but she was forcibly living it. He hated that he'd put her in this position… her nightmares over this would be his. This was another moment where he found it incredibly easy to hate himself. It wasn't as if these feelings resurfaced all the time, but they did happen. If he said he was completely fine - he'd be lying.

Again, he found that he had to ground himself. He would never know if it was from the therapist's exercises or their resurfacing bond. It had taken time to realize this but the bond between them wasn't just to help the sorceress, it helped the knight just as much – that is, if he let her in. This time, he truly had. Right now, it may have also been his saving grace.

Eleven minutes, twenty-two seconds…
Twenty three…

As for Zell, he silently continued to watch – not just the monitor, but the scene playing out in the room. He knew Squall couldn't be distracted and Rinoa knew that as much as anyone, so she let him be. But more than anything, the martial artist knew that she was out of her comfort zone. There was nothing he could for Squall's psyche right now, but he knew of at least one friend he could rescue. Walking behind the table, he made his way over to Rinoa, placing an arm around her.

She hadn't seen him coming, but she'd heard the steps. When she felt his embrace, she was shocked, but ever so thankful.

Until he got there, he thought this was just for her, but he quickly realized that she wasn't the only one that needed comforting. Yes, he had been trained and could have faced this alone, but facing it with a friend was so much better.

Truthfully, the monitor was hard for any of them to watch just knowing the countless possibilities, but the two SeeDs really had no other choice. As Sirtis had forced them into a holding pattern, it became even more difficult to bear.

This was a lethal game of chess; everyone saw the entire board and where each piece was placed. It was calculating moves before they were made, but knowing nothing of your opponent's mindset. It's was what was impossible to see that made this game so deadly - the inner workings of a madman's mind. He may have had them in check, or this could have been checkmate already, but until he telegraphed his move, it was a waiting game.

…And just when it seemed endless, it no longer was. Sirtis moved.

Squall's heart raced, but he found a way to keep himself calm – for both Lauren and Rinoa. A few minutes ago, this seemed impossible, but just as fast as a thousand doubts rose to the surface, they ebbed just as quickly. He knew it was far more than a single life out there; it wasn't about Lauren or even Kiros, but about everyone else who might become expendable pawns.

"One and half meters, closing at three o'clock. Going silent. Godspeed, puma."

Squall coolly stated what most likely would be his last words to her. There was even a moment where he realized he really did care about her and in that moment, he called her by the codename. If those where the last words she'd ever heard, they would be out of respect. Not many would understand, but he knew she would. Lauren was on her own, although back up was close, they would never be close enough.

In his peripheral vision, he caught Rinoa looking over as he said Godspeed. He wasn't sure why that particular phrase popped into his mind; he didn't recall a time he'd ever said it before. He had wanted to wish her luck, but saying 'good luck' didn't feel right. A moment after he'd said words when he thought of the Ragnarok. They made it through then, so maybe lightning really would strike twice and they'd make it again.

It was strange, but somehow thinking about the past brought a sliver of hope.

Twelve minutes, fifty-five seconds…

From Squall's last message, the SeeD knew that he had moved positions slightly, but she continued to play the game. Acting as if she'd been completely unaware of Sirtis' position, she continued scanning the back part of the crowd. It worked against every survival instinct not to pull out a weapon and take him down, but self-preservation was secondary.

Mentally, she did clock her ability to draw her side arm if it became a viable option. She also had a dagger secured around her thigh. If this went to hand-to-hand combat, she believed that she could take him. He may have been a well-trained sharpshooter where he would have easily had her at distance, but in unarmed combat, the playing field leveled.

Twelve minutes, fifty-nine seconds…
Thirteen minutes even…

Lauren trusted that her teammates had moved into position. She had no idea what to expect, a gunshot to the temple, a switch blade in the kidney, anything…

"I believe you're looking for me."

…Except that.

His voice was calm, but the words were spoken with a methodical edge. Instinctively, as she turned around, her hand reached under her jacket to her weapon, but did not draw. It was an unspoken warning, or rather, that had been her intention. With his direct candor, she honestly didn't know who was the one being warned.

Back in the penthouse, all three were stunned. Even Squall had to pause, making sure he had heard Sirtis right. However, his disbelief didn't last long as he immediately fell back into a familiar role. He quickly resumed listening to the communication with his subordinate. Still, he'd be damned if it was this easy. This guy was planning something and it was their job to figure out what the hell that was.

He listened through his earpiece as she never wavered.

"Duncan Sirtis, remain still. Don't even breathe. Place your hands behind your back and you will be restrained."

Back down below, a plain-clothed SeeD had been the first to make his way to the field commander. Within a blink of an eye, he was joined by a second SeeD and two members of the Estharian military. One of the soldiers nodded to Lauren, signaling that the suspect was covered. She then motioned for her team member to proceed, handcuffing the man not-so-gently. Sirtis was again cooperative, not resisting in the slightest.

"Check for weapons and explosives." That had been Lauren's greatest fear, but she knew everyone watching had the same thought.

The SeeD quickly followed orders and, in fact, felt the need to double check. They had expected to find something, some sort of weapon at the very least, but the guy had nothing – no gun, no knife, or even a set of nail clippers. Nothing.

"Commander… he's clean." Even though he had been searched, there was still an air of uncertainty in SeeD's voice.

"Good. Clear the immediate area. The Estharian soldiers will stay with me for transport." Even if the danger appeared to be behind them, it was something that shouldn't be left to chance.

Her eyes made contact with the suspect. "Fair warning, you're in the scopes of many expert snipers. If you value your safety, I'd advise against trying anything stupid or you'll see firsthand how accurate those crosshairs can be."

"Their sights," Sirtis corrected, mirroring the tone she had used on him. "Garden tends to use bolt action rifles with 40x telescopic sights, although I'm sure Esthar has their fair share of archaic weaponry in the mix. Trust me, don't let them be the ones to attempt to shoot me, who knows what the hell those things will end up hitting. It doesn't matter what's pointed at my head – whether it's the sniper rifles or the .40 caliber Glock in your holster. I surrendered, I'm unarmed, and last I checked, I'm in your custody. It's your move, babe."

"He's throwing irrelevant information at you trying to gain the upper hand. Don't let him."

Lauren didn't respond to Squall's comment as she had already figured the same. She had to admit it was good to hear from her superior though; she never thought she'd hear that voice again.

Giving a single laugh, the intern commander scoffed. "Confusion – the oldest and most typical political tactic on record. It's rather ironic that you despise politicians and yet have no problem stooping to their level."

"Save it for interrogation, Rachels. Get him into secure custody before setting him off," Squall warned, still uneasy about this entire thing. He may have been trying the same mental tactics he pulled earlier.

The was also another reason - if Lauren upset him, even unintentionally, and Sirtis so much as flinched, someone watching from a rooftop with an itchy trigger finger could easily write it off as 'an aggressive attack.'

…And if there was one thing he knew with great confidence, it was that Lauren had the ability to push.

It was easy to get caught up in the rush of the adrenaline and if he had been out there in the field he might have had the same reaction. Still, Sirtis was very much out in public and discretion had to be maintained. How this was handled would reflect on both SeeD and Esthar; no doubt the World Council would be putting every move that they made under a microscope.

Making their way through the rather deserted streets, Lauren kept a firm hold on him. With a small platoon of security literally surrounding them, they then made their way towards the car. Soldiers had lined up to witness this for themselves; it was history in the making – seeing the man who killed the world savior. Most weren't afraid to share their opinion vocally, but thankfully everyone had been restrained enough not to take it to a physical level. The anger wasn't surprising though. Along with Squall, Esthar had lost an aide to this man and it was easy to hold that grudge against this coward of a murderer.

Still, this case had now shifted from capture to interrogation. It was about finding justice for all those he killed and then Sirtis' justice would be served later. As they made it to the police vehicle, Lauren watched as he got inside. The older man looked up at her before she closed the door.

"You might not believe me, but I don't want any more blood on my hands."

His words would never bring comfort; they only served to cheapen the blood already shed.

The surveillance team had lost video after Sirtis had been removed from the main area, but Squall still had an audio connection with Lauren. He had taken out his earpiece, having the sound coming directly from the radio's speaker.

Rinoa had listened closely at first but, after the danger passed, her mind had started to drift. She couldn't shake her earlier thoughts. It was easy to write this man off as a sociopath, but was he that or an enigma they hadn't cracked? When she had finally heard Sirtis talk, she couldn't help but think back to Squall's funeral. She honestly thought these doubts were behind her, but the minute she heard that same calm voice, she was transported back to when she was comforted by him.

She felt… dirty? There was no other way to describe it. Hearing his voice wanted to make her run to the shower and scrub away all these feelings.

Squall had glanced from the radio to her a few times, but she hadn't noticed. She had been the one that wanted him alive and now Squall had to wonder if there was a small part of her that would eventually question that decision. It was one thing when it had been theoretical, but that was also before everything about Katipo had come to light. Sirtis not only held answers to his victim's murders, but possibly to Esthar's secrets. By him telling the truth, he could ease the mind of a few families, but shatter the illusions of an entire nation. Even Squall began to wonder if finding out why he was targeted was worth the price. Was anything worth this price?

The three of them had remained abnormally silent. They had been listening to every word said over the speaker, but no words resounded so loudly, nor cut as deeply, as the statement Sirtis made.

"You might not believe me, but I don't want any more blood on my hands."

"Too little, too late. You already have blood on your hands. Lots of it," Lauren curtly stated as the sound of car door slamming filled the room. It was followed by faint voices and shuffling, and finally a second door opening and closing. Lauren was going as escort, all of them knew this, but once the doors were closed and the sound of the outside world had been drowned out, she had one more piece of sage advice.

"If you're looking for redemption, I doubt you'll find any here."

"You're wrong about that." Sirtis' tone again had remained tranquil. It was the same voice he had used when he first turned himself in. "Esthar's where it all started. It's the only place it could end. It may not be redemption, but there is a finality."

As Squall heard the words, there was a haunting, familiarity edge to them. He felt sick that he empathized with the man, even for a fleeting second. They both had been military heroes, fallen from grace and had outside forces that covered for them. They were the only ones who could impose any sort of accountability unto themselves and that's where their paths differed. Squall accepted his faults, taking his second chance for all it was worth. Sirtis on the other hand, had laid dormant, planning his revenge. Then when the time was right, just like the Katipo spider, he struck with venomous intent, then distributing his own form of justice.

Lauren had been right on one account - no matter what sick and depraved theory Sirtis believed - a man would never find redemption while focused on revenge. It pained him to admit this but, Sirtis also had a valid point. It had started here and this was truly the only place it could end in his mind. It might be ending in pain and death for Sirtis, but it would be an end.

The commander had to wonder how he would have fared under the man's situation. Hell, how anyone he knew would have fared. What kind of twisted government would order a solider to shoot his peers for escaping? The soul of the military's infrastructure is trust and if you remove that, you have nothing… correction – you have monsters - you have Duncan Sirtis.

"I can't believe it's almost over."

Zell's words weren't spoken with his natural enthusiasm; it was so anticlimactic that it was hard to accept anything as truly 'over.' The man literally walked up and turned himself in without so much as a fight… maybe with a little intellectual goading, but never a fight. Even now, all three of them kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something that would give it finality. Something that would give them closure.

"I don't think it is." There had been a surprising darkness to Rinoa's words. Still, she said what they had all been thinking. "That was too easy."

If she had always been the most optimistic of the group, then why couldn't she just admit this was over and walk away with a smile on her face? There was something she couldn't put her finger on – dots that still hadn't been connected.

Why give up now? Why give up after mutilating a father of two and ruthlessly shooting six others? Why do you pick now to turn yourself in? There was no final act of glory, no desperate attempts in the eleventh hour. Nothing. No matter how misguided his brand of justice of was - it would be hard to walk away from such strong ideology, not without just cause.

"Rinoa, I don't know if it's over, but I'm sure time will tell. The one thing I know is that our job isn't over. We wanted to be able to ask him questions and now we have to be prepared to live with the answers."

Squall took his seat as he quickly started to organize the files and notes – now was the time to put all the pieces together. He turned his radio down, but left it on in the background. He didn't have to glance over to know that Zell and Rinoa hadn't moved. He understood how they felt, but they didn't have time to have some brainstorming session. They needed to get to Sirtis before someone else did.

"Do you think he'll expose Katipo project to the world?" she asked quietly.

Squall had figured that she had been thinking about earlier and she was second-guessing herself. It was great to want answers when they were in Fisherman's Horizon. It was easy to focus all her energy on giving Blalock's family answers. Now things had turned on its head and they knew the pain this man could cause could spread like a cancer throughout an entire nation.

"Yes." Like he said to her before, sometimes answers aren't the ones you want. "Rinoa, his knowledge is his bargaining chip; he didn't walk in here today without some holding cards. Don't think for a minute that any of us can control the information Sirtis lets out into the public. Even if someone decides he's better off dead, he could have files programmed to send at any time or have sent the information to the media. Just because we have him doesn't mean it's over. It's just over for him."

"Yeah, sorry Rin, Squall's right. He didn't come in here without a backup. I'm guessing he didn't think he'd even get this far alive, you know?"

Squall finished stacking the last of his files. "His killing started off so methodical that originally nobody connected them together. It took months before anyone realized there was a serial killer and by then, the damage was done. He's left his mark in precise, calculated strikes. If he's looking for redemption, he's got to expose the cover-up and what Esthar put him through. That's his end game."

"Laguna…" Rinoa said sympathetically, feeling a wave of dread wash over her, "…Seeing Esthar fall like that will tear him apart. He was devastated after the Lunar Cry – but at least the city could band together against a common enemy. He won't know who he can trust there or who would turn on him."

"If this goes public while Esthar's already in a volatile position, no one's safe from blame. There's going to be finger pointing and the blame will even pre-date his presidency. This could be nothing short of a civil war." Squall wasn't going to sugarcoat it, but he did feel bad for his father. The man was still cleaning up from Adel's mess.

She placed a hand on Squall's arm. "Do you think we could stop him before it goes public? For Laguna? I mean, talk him out of whatever he has planned on doing?"

Squall looked away; he knew the answer and something told him she did too. "If there is any stopping on Esthar's part, it's not going to be talking. As far as him keeping quiet, why go through all of this just to walk away?"

"Forgiveness? Redemption? Maybe, just maybe, he cares about his country still. They didn't all turn on him."

She looked to the ground. It was so easy when they were talking in hypotheticals and names without faces. Standing up, he reached over and forced her to look at him. "Let's hope it doesn't come down to the worst, but we can only do so much. Some wars just aren't ours to fight. Some secrets aren't meant for us to keep."

She still looked unconvinced, but that was all right, he wasn't either. "Look, whatever Laguna decides, whatever happens, we'll support him a hundred percent. Not SeeD, not Garden, us."

"Okay." She wrapped her arms around him. It might not have been an answer to the problem, but it was something. He was going to support his father's decision, not as a commander, but as a son.

"Ready to head down to the police station for questioning?" He squeezed her shoulder as they he started to lead her to the door. Leaning over, he whispered, "Not the first time you've heard that one before, is it?"

She managed a tiny laugh, glad he was trying to cheer her up. "Why are we going to the station anyhow? Seems like we should head back to the Palace."

"It's a compromise. The police are working as a liaison between Esthar's military, SeeDs, and the World Council. Sounds like a shit job to me personally. I'd love to see anyone try to get one of those agencies to agree to anything, even the kind of donuts being served. I guess the building itself is some kind of multi-million Gil complex downtown, housing several of the city's offices. It's secure. That's all I care about."

"Ah." She stopped and started to dig through her pocket. He had paused beside her as she seemed to be searching for something. It took only a second until she produced a familiar set of keys. "Wanted to make sure I had them before we left. I'm feeling kinda scatterbrained, it's been kind of… difficult.

He gave her a small squeeze, again trying to lighten the mood again, if only for a few minutes. "Scatterbrained right now? How's that any different from normal? Plus, I know you're going to miss that van. Don't lie."

She laughed a little louder this time. "If all goes well, this could be the last time we're in it together. It's kinda sad… it'll be like I'll be saying goodbye to a family member. You know that distant family member you avoid at get-togethers because they smell like mothballs and Gysahl greens, but a family member nonetheless…"

"And I thought my family was odd."

She gave him a playful nudge in the side as he continued.

"Plus I'm sure I can talk Cid into either selling us the van or giving it to us as a wedding present. I know how you feel about goodbyes, so I'll do the knightly thing and try to save you from this one. I always thought of buying more property, but a twenty-year old company van that will forever have the odor of Zell's bare feet works too."

As they got into the elevator, she didn't have to contemplate that for long. "…Thanks, but we'll just take a picture for the scrapbook."