The Final Case

An FF7 Detective Story

Chapter 6

From Vincent's Perspective

Water trickled down the sides of the worn down buildings, covered in grime and filth, illuminated only by the bright neon lights which all seemed to vie for my immediate attention. This was Wall Market, where the cesspool of human filth congregated to satisfy their most primitive and lewd desires. A number of prostitutes passed me by, their almost non-existent clothing hiding nothing as they sauntered by, hips swaying provocatively as they walked. The stench of booze and cheap food hovered in the air, filling my nostrils with the putrid scent of sin. Ahead of me lay what passed for a mansion in these parts, a massive home built from scraps and remnants of grander structures which had long since decayed into ruin. As vile a place as Wall Market was, I was no stranger here. A sizable portion of my business dealt with the sins of the flesh which frequently took place here; it was an unavoidable occupational hazard for the private investigator.

It wouldn't be long now, I thought as I leaned against a broken column, my fedora tilted downward to avoid casual glances from passers-by. Tifa passed by in the chocobo cart, looking every bit the forlorn and broken woman she had every right to be. Fortunately for my carefully laid plans, however, the entire scene was just a very impressive act. Don Corneo was a very powerful man, but like all power-hungry men, he had a weakness for the flesh... and who couldn't resist Tifa's ravishing figure? The cart came to a halt and several dark figures in exceptionally expensive suits escorted Tifa into the massive structure. I just hoped all this trouble would be worth the information I could extract from the sex-obsessed mobster. The Don and I had a long history, most of it bad, and he still had a hit out on me, though his goons had never come to collect. No one in his syndicate really wanted to try taking down an ex-Turk, and I half-believed that the hit had just been a not-so-subtle threat to stay away from his clientele.

After another long hour, Barret and his Avalanche goons stepped out from the nearby gym, populated by some of the most bizarre people I ever had the displeasure of meeting. The dark-skinned man had more in common with a tank than an actual human being; massive, sinewy muscles bulged from beneath his obsidian leather jacket. Everything about the man simply screamed hired muscle; certainly everyone in the immediate vicinity scampered off to escape the intimidating man's presence. His prosthetic right arm held a purpose-built machine gun, specially crafted for the gang-leader's use. A row of bullets stretched around his mammoth frame to a pack strapped on his back. Certainly this was not a subtle man, but then subtlety was not exactly what I had in mind. I looked his three companions down for a moment, satisfying myself that they would do the job.

"Remember, fifteen-thousand Gil when it's done, here's the five-thousand for showing up." I tossed the dark-skinned man an impressive wad of fresh bills. "You know the drill. Stay out front and keep his men pinned down. I only need about ten minutes, so don't get careless." I continued.

"I got it you &# get yer ass in there and do what you gotta do." Barret began, his deep voice threatening. "You better get Tifa outta there. If she gets hurt, it's yer ass."

"No need to worry about Tifa, she can take care of herself... but I'm not leaving her behind." I answered simply. As impressively built and armed as the man was, I had no real fear of him, and I think that was unnerving to the gang-leader. Even his goons seemed to have no shortage of terror around the man.

"Alright you lazy &$#'s lets do this." Barret barked out to his comrades as I slinked away into the darkness, working my way carefully around the wreckage surrounding the mobster's home. As I turned about, watching Barret move his men into place, I caught sight of two women approaching the house alone, without any kind of escort. That was certainly odd in this neighborhood, even the most naive of prostitutes knew better than to walk around this particular home without protection. The first was ravishingly beautiful, a long, silky, red dress covering her modestly and yet accentuating her gorgeous figure perfectly. There was something distinctly off about the second woman though; she didn't walk quite right, as if unused to her own clothing, and even her long blonde hair just didn't appear natural. The purple silk dress she wore didn't seem to work well for her either, accentuating all the wrong features. Well, I thought, while the Don was very discriminating in his tastes, his men weren't. I waved Barret off, signalling him to wait until the women were safely inside, but I was pretty sure he intended to anyway. Despite all of the evidence to the contrary, it was obvious to me that the man was lot more soft and caring than he acted.

As the door clanged shut, I slipped again into the darkness, disappearing into the wreckage as I had been trained to do all those years ago. Once a Turk, always a Turk, they had told me back in training. Slinking about the shadows was the most fundamental art instilled in the Turk ranks, and I had certainly never forgotten it. If anything I had perfected the art, even as I rotted in that dingy, foul-smelling office and worked on those petty cases and pithy problems. It was a thing they never taught you in the training classes, how to truly meld in with the populace, how to appear as one of them and not what you truly were. Most of the Turks had been far too stuck-up to truly understand that the best hiding place was often in plain sight. Though the thought brought me a touch of pride, it also resurrected those painful memories that always simmered just beneath the surface. Always her face would come to me in moments like this, her smiling features glistening in my memory. Lucrecia... I shook my head as if to escape the unbidden memory, concentrating on the task at hand.

As I passed well-lit areas near the home, I walked as if I were simply another passerby, satisfied by the pleasures of the area, stumbling about as if slightly drunk. In the shadows I moved soundlessly, without disturbing even the most minute piece of garbage in this festering cesspit. All about me, the Don's men continued their rounds, their eyes glazed over from the long hours spent guarding the mobster. Soon after, the sounds of combat erupted from the front of the mansion, Barret and his goons opening up with everything they had. Gunfire and explosions echoed everywhere as the guards nearby ran to the front of the house, weapons held out before them. With the guards thus occupied I had no trouble reaching the back door, which Tifa had successfully left unlocked.

Once inside I began wandering the empty halls as the battle continued to rage outside. Finally I found what had to be the Don's room; it had a set of double doors with some ridiculously ostentatious design on them and looked exactly like what it was... an entrance to a mobster's "play" room. I kicked the doors in viciously, my revolver held out before me as I rushed into the room, eyes searching for signs of danger. What I saw nearly reduced me to laughter. Tifa had the powerful mob boss on his knees, her hands wrapped around his throat, choking him without mercy.

"Hey I need him alive... for the moment." I began, placing the revolver to the mob boss's temple. Tifa pulled her hands away with some obvious reluctance, glaring at the Don with intense hatred.

"What a slimy little man. I'm wondering if I should just cut it off, hmm?" Tifa smiled sadistically. The Don writhed with terror, his ostentatious, bright red clothing reeking of sweat.

"You.. you... I will have you dealt with!" He began, but as I clicked the cylinder on the revolver, he quivered and his mouth shut.

"Yes, that's right old boy. You shouldn't be making threats." My voice was monotone, lacking any kind of emotion, as I continued. "Now, I'm in need of certain information, and you are going to give it to me. And if I think you are lying, I will leave you to her." For her part, Tifa smiled with relish as she gestured, her fingers moving like a pair of scissors.

"Now, you're working with Shinra, right?" I began. As the Don began to shake his head, Tifa leaned in closer, and he reluctantly nodded yes.

"What did they hire you to do?" I already knew this part of the story, but I wanted to see just how accurate his information would be, and whether or not Tifa would need to prepare him a little first.

"Uh.. uh.. don't cut it off... They wanted my men to... check around for this spiky blond guy... he's some kind of escaped prisoner." He replied nervously. The sounds of battle outside continued.

"Cloud Strife. So what did you find out?" I added, looking over at Tifa.

"Uh.. well my men had been following him awhile, Shinra couldn't keep track of him in the slums, this is MY territory. We caught him trying to get to the upper plate. He was climbing one of the support cables or something and one of my men cut it... easy job... that's all I swear."

"Did he survive?" I certainly hoped so, this guy was my only firm lead on finding Sephiroth.

"How should I know? Probably not, that's a long way to fall." The Don began squirming then suddenly stopped, a sadistic smile working it's way onto his face as he glanced over at Tifa. "But It doesn't matter anyway, you're from sector seven huh? You'll get a nice surprise soon!"

Just as I was about to question the mobster about this new information, two figures stepped into the room behind me. I swung around instinctively, my revolver pointing directly at them as they stepped over the broken remnants of the door. Certainly I was surprised to see the two women I had seen entering earlier, anyone sane would be crouching under a table somewhere as the battle raged outside. But I could see that these two were no strangers to danger. Emerald eyes stared at me with puzzlement, then flicked over to Tifa in confusion. Her companion was a definitely off, she was... then my detective instincts kicked in. I had seen all manner of strange things in my time dealing with cheating lovers and prostitution rings, and in the grand scheme of things, men dressing up as women wasn't as unusual as it should have been.

"Tifa?" A deep male voice rumbled from the feminine figure, confirming my suspicion. For her part, Tifa merely stared, her jaw dropping in surprise as the Don was all but forgotten.

"Cloud?" She began, and now it was my turn to be shocked. The soldier, or whatever he was, who had eluded Shinra and survived the Don's assassination attempt.. was a beefcake? But the thought didn't fit with the man's posture. This was a serious professional, someone to be extremely wary of, perhaps he had merely used this as a form of bizarre disguise to gain entrance into the place... possibly to extract revenge for the attempt on his life?

"Are you Cloud Strife?" I spoke simply.

"Yeah," was all the man could say.

"I'm Aerith," the woman in the red dress added sweetly. Wow, I thought, where did this cross-dressing soldier find that girl?

"I'm not... I just dressed like this to get in. We saw them taking you here and wanted to... uh..." Cloud seemed embarrassed by the whole situation, not to say that I blamed him.

"Rescue me? So you remembered our little promise?" Tifa smiled, but I could tell that she wasn't very pleased with the other woman. My earlier suspicions were thus confirmed, Tifa did have a lot more of a past with this man than she let on.

"Who are you?" Aerith asked, staring directly at me as I holstered my revolver and kicked the Don to the floor, knocking him unconscious.

"That's not really your concern." I replied. Certainly I didn't need my name thrown out there any more than it already was.

"He's Vincent Valentine, a Private Investigator." Tifa spoke as I glared back at her. "He was looking for you, Cloud."

"He looks like a Turk." Cloud said, anger seeping into his voice as he glared at me. My fingers lingered on the revolver as I tensed up. This man was definitely dangerous, I thought as I stared back at him with equal intensity.