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Catch 22 _
*ff7 zack fic bit*
“Well that’s that.” Zack collapsed in a folding chair next to the table after
putting away the last of their gear. He looked up at the man, noting for the
first time that the random hustle and bustle of the tent had faded from its
customary din.
“Unpacked already?”
“I stowed your gear too, met with Pavan and
the others, there are some reports for you if you’re ready to look them over.”
His second in command’s stamina was sometimes remarkable. In the time it had
taken him to get caught up on the set of maps blanketing the table the man had
apparently buzzed around the camp, settling the necessary chores and
‘preparing’ things for him. The feeling that he was being ‘taken care of’ was a
little unsettling.
“Anything of any interest?” Sephiroth murmured,
finally deciding to settle into the tent enough to pull off his gear and coat.
“Something random tension among the men. Captain Joe
Nomura in particular has been disciplined twice for fighting.”
“Nomura? What’s the source? Some bad
news from home or something?” He frowned, trying to remember if he knew
anything about the normally unremarkable SOLDIER’s
private life. It didn’t take long to realize that what he did know was very
little. Luckily Zack’s capacity for finding and retaining gossip was
considerably more than his own.
“Dunno, I haven’t had the chance to see him myself,
just got the brief from the others. He’s cooling off by peeling potatoes right
now, it seems. I’ll check on him later.”
Neither of them really had the time to give the officer’s odd behavior any
thought. Sephiroth put it down to some mix of homesickness and just general low
morale from having to stay in camp for weeks while the corporate machinery
churned to a decision. Looking over at his friend, thoroughly engrossed in the
recent supply numbers, he decided the southerner probably assumed the same.
Fights weren’t all that uncommon when the army was at a stand-still,
he saw no reason to worry.
It should have been predictable therefore, when fifteen minutes later disaster
struck.
“Zack! Oh, excuse me general…” Major Jain tossed him a
shockingly sloppy salute. For the man to be anything less than professional was
deeply worrying. “It’s Nomura, sir. He’s… he’s at it again, but this time I
think he’s high or something. He’s actually got Jake by the neck.”
“What?” Zack was on his feet in an instant, paperwork forgotten as he moved to
the door, “Where is he?”
“What do you mean ‘high’?” The word caught his attention more than the fight in
progress. Snagging his coat off the back of his chair, Sephiroth also moved to
follow, stunning his subordinates. He gestured that they were to lead the way. “Now, gentlemen.”
Pavan simply spared them both a confused look before
briskly jogging across the camp, and through a small crowd that had gathered
behind the officer’s mess. Three SOLDIERs were
gingerly surrounding another pair. Jake Watson hung like a lanky black
rag-doll, pressed backwards against his attacker’s chest, potato peeler digging
a painful looking gouge in his throat. Someone in the crowd had the common
sense to cast a cure spell at the man, temporarily repairing the damage. The
captain shot his benefactor a half-grateful, half-irritated look.
“Will someone get this insane-fucker off of me already?” His complaint was cut
short as edge pressed against his throat pressed in again, drawing blood. “… shit!”
Captain Nomura didn’t look too concerned at all about his hostage’s well being,
or the crowd gathering around him. The normally pale-skinned man looked
distinctly feverish, sweating heavily. His eyes were startlingly bright.
Sephiroth swore under his breath as he took in the familiar symptoms and cursed
again at how the other officers had missed them. It was his fault,
he shouldn’t have left them unsupervised so long. The paper pushing juggernaut
of Midgar was about to claim another fatality if he didn’t move fast.
“Shit, Joe, what the hell are you doing?!” Zack’s frustrated shout summed up
the situation nicely.
“Fuck off, Thomson! Don’t give me one of your stupid shitty, ‘Let’s be best
buddies’ fucking speeches, you’re just the general’s little bootlicker, you
can’t fool me! Take one step closer and I swear I’ll kill this guy, how about
/that/ for a speech, huh?”
The insult slid off the southerner with no noticeable result, save that he
stopped moving forwards. Holding out his hands to show he wasn’t armed, the
wild haired man shifted his posture to something that was almost meek. It was
fascinating to watch. Sephiroth wondered if his second had ever actually made a
study of psychology, or if his responses to people were strictly instinctive.
“Listen to yourself, Joe… This isn’t like you…” Even his dynamic voice could
shift to project what was needed, formerly an official bark, now calm,
concerned almost cheerful. Like a man trying to talk down a raging animal. In a
way, he wasn’t far off. With the crowd, and Nomura’s attention firmly on Zack,
it was easy to tilt his head in his other officer’s direction.
“… Major Jain, go to medical and retrieve the blue bag.” Pavan
blinked at the murmured order, and then cursed himself for not thinking of it
sooner.
“Yessir.”
With the major now aware of what they were dealing with, it was only a matter
of alerting Zack, preferably without making the object of their concerns aware
of it as well. The dark haired SOLDIER was still trying to talk the other man
down, inching closer in a way that would have been acceptable procedure with
anyone else. Grabbing two other ranking officers out of the crowd, he silently
signaled for them to clear the others out of the immediate danger zone. “… Mr.
Thomson, if I might have a word.”
“Not now, general.” The mild sing-song warned him that
his second in command didn’t appreciate being interrupted. He was getting
within grabbing distance of their wayward SOLDIER and understandably didn’t
want his rapport broken. Sephiroth sighed, not wanting a valuable officer
broken either. Having never encountered the situation before his aide was going
to be in over his head in a minute if he wasn’t careful.
“… two steps back, if you please Zack. Give the man
room to breathe.”
“General… help?” Captain Watson took notice of him at
last, still trying to put precious millimeters of distance between himself and the blade threatening to open his throat.
“Be patient a moment longer, Mr. Watson. Zack, come /here/.”
“But…? Turning to stare at him in confusion ended up being a critical
mistake. Already growling, the enraged officer decided the target presented was
more tempting than the hostage held and went for it. Zack barely had time for a
yelp as he was tackled, his strength impressive, but no match for the psychotic
stamina of his attacker.
Sparing a glance at Pavan’s friend showed that Watson
was scrambling to get out of range, perfect. Sephiroth moved in to catch one of
Nomura's arms as the man hauled back to stab his new victim, and briskly
twisted it behind his back to pin it. Up close, there was an
usual odor to the man’s sweat. It wasn’t a good sign. When the officer flailed
back with his other arm in an attempt to free himself,
it too was caught. Moving with grim precision, he then hauled the enraged man
off his prey and swiped his legs out from under him before he could get
leverage against the ground. Looking around showed that Zack was still dazed
and panting. His other officer was in better shape. “Mr. Watson, if you would
be so kind as to grab his ankles?”
“Yes sir.” Deftly avoiding some furious curses, and tolerating the flung
insults and spit, Jake caught both ankles and kept them from flailing. “What
the hell is wrong with him? Eat the wrong berry for breakfast or something?” He
groused bitterly. “All I did was say hi to him as I went by, next thing I know
he jumped me…”
“I think it’s a little more serious than that, Mr. Watson.”
“I’ve got the bag, sir.” He heard the returning officer before he could see him
not able to spare any attention from his disagreeable captive.
“I trust you remember what to do?” Not in any mood to coddle SOLDIERs who should have known better, he growled out the
question over the shouting in his ear.
The Corel-born man simply grimaced as he fished for the necessary gear in the
bag and came up with dart gun and cartridge. “One or two?”
“One for the moment, we’ll see how he responds.”
Nomura trembled and doubled his efforts to be free as the large black man moved
into view, very nearly kicking Jake in the face. “Don’t! No! You can’t shoot
me! I don’t want to die!” His frantic wail, sounding so different from his furious
raving earlier made the larger man hesitate.
“We’re not going to kill you, ass hole, just calm you down…”
“I’ll kill each and every one of you fuckers! You’ve been after me from the
beginning! I should have never trusted you!”
Dramatic mood swings were also a symptom. Sephiroth shifted his grip to keep a
better hold on the man, not caring if he broke one of the SOLDIER’s
wrists in the process. Physical damage to an individual could be repaired.
Allowing a biologically enhanced psychopath to run loose through camp was
another matter all together. “If you please, major?”
“Just shoot the asshole already.” Zack growled in tired agreement. He
was thankfully back among the living, struggling to
haul himself out of the mud and looking as if he was in considerable pain.
“Right. Sorry.” Aiming the dart for the struggling
man’s chest, the officer fired the cartridge
Sephiroth counted softly to one hundred and watched his captive for signs that
the drug was taking effect. A SOLDIER in the grips of extreme paranoia who had
been tranquilized in the past might be aware enough to fake a reaction while
resisting the actual effects of the medication, but this time at least it
seemed genuine. He waited for the man’s features to go slack, his breathing to
even out before signaling that the major could put the gun away and set about
finding restraints. The man was kind enough to help Zack to his feet as he
passed. His second tottered closer, clutching his side, in order to kneel next
to their tranquilized companion. There were questions in his eyes, but he
seemed to understand that quiet was best. Clearing his throat, Sephiroth
decided to try and clarify a few points for both remaining SOLDIERs
and his captive alike.
“Mr. Nomura, you have just been dosed with six-hundred and twenty milligrams of
heavy sedative and with any luck will pass out soon, so I will make myself
brief. Your recent burst of depression, anxiety, paranoia, and uncontrollable
anger are signs that you have reached stage-two dematriculation,
or in less scientific terms, you body is rejecting that volatile mix of
chemicals that defines you physically as a SOLDIER.” He couldn’t see the
drugged man’s expression, but he could see Zack’s. The mix of surprise and
horror that flashed across his assistant’s face brought the true peril of the
day to the surface. If morale was low before, this would almost guarantee it
was abysmal by tomorrow. He resolved to talk with the southerner about it, but
later. It had been years since he last had to give this particularly unpleasant
briefing to someone, but the words never changed.
“You will be evacuated with all possible haste to Midgar, and unfortunately
must remain tranquilized for the duration of the trip. This is for your safety
as well as the safety of those transporting you. The drugs should help you
maintain a calm, if not entirely rational, state of mind,
however the side effects can include arthritic pain, dizziness and nausea.
Please bear with any discomfort as best you can. Upon your arrival you will be
evaluated, chemically detoxified, and if deemed to be of no further threat to
society, discharged with full medical pension.”
Pavan returned with nylon rope, and quietly proceeded
to lash first the man’s legs, and then his arms to his body, turning him into a
limp sort of mummy. Finally able to set the SOLDIER down and look at him
properly, Sephiroth wasn’t surprised to see he was crying weakly. There was
precious little good news to share to ease the blow. “I apologize that we were
not able to diagnose you before now, however given that you are currently still
aware of both yourself and your surroundings, there is every hope that your
prognosis will be favorable.”
He drew a breath, always hating to say the last bit. Any man motivated and
ambitious to get into the SOLDIER program in the first place tended to want to
cling to the hope that there would be an easy ‘fix’ and return to duty. Given
the constant cross talk that patients tended to get once they were in the
medical system, he felt it was healthier to set their expectations as soon as
possible. “I regret to inform you that you will no longer be deemed medically
fit to serve under my - or any other- tactical command. I suggest you focus
your efforts in the short term on regaining your health, and wish you success
in any future civilian endeavors.”
Joe’s eyes slipped shut between one tired blink and the next, succumbing to the
tranquilizers at last. He sighed and reluctantly patted the man’s good
shoulder, knowing the gesture wouldn’t be remembered before hauling himself
back to his feet. Two medics appeared from nowhere to lift the comatose body
onto a stretcher and whisk it away, he followed them with his eyes, watching a
third doctor lean over the prone man and take some measurements. Turning, he
watched as his companions passed a small Cure Materia back and forth, repairing
superficial damage on themselves before taking turns casting it on Zack
repeatedly. The southerner’s wheezy breathing cleared up on the second dose of
magic and by the third he could stand upright on his own with reasonable
confidence.
“Damn but that hurt.” He laughed weakly as he batted the helping hands away.
“Remind me to leave the ‘crisis management’ to the professionals.”
“I thought we /were/ the professionals.” Jake commented sourly, still rubbing
his neck.
Leaving the three men to sort out the rest of the camp on their own, Sephiroth
retreated back to his tent for a shower feeling as he always did when one of
his men suddenly cracked under the strain of being different. Somehow there was
plenty to keep him busy for the rest of the day. He almost missed the tell tale
sound of rotors beating the air during an unscheduled take off late in the
afternoon. Someone at least, was getting an early trip home. Somehow he didn’t
think Nomura was going to enjoy his time off.
At least Zack was blessedly quiet, barely saying ten words all evening,
fetching him a tray from the mess hall without bothering to ask, just sliding
it on top of a stack of files. By the time his watch told him it was
“… just thinking, sir. Do you need something?”
“No.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “What are you thinking about,
Zack.”
“Joe, of course.” The officer sat up and propped his
elbows on his knees. “Permission to speak freely?”
“Usually.” Taking the opportunity presented, Sephiroth dragged one of
the folding chairs over to where his assistant sat and joined him. “What do you
want to know?”
“… how did you know…? That he was, you know, freaking
out.”
He rubbed his chin, "Experience mostly, poor Mr. Nomura is neither the
first, nor the last, to have a late-blooming difficulties with the conditioning
process. But for your future reference, something in his eyes, and believe it or not, his smell were what I based my decision
on. That and the fact that I am disinclined to believe my officers are prone to
sampling local shrubbery, given my personal opinion on narcotics is well
known."
"Point." Zack slouched
further forwards, contemplating his boots. "… the
doctors… I mean I knew that delayed reactions were possible, but they really
played it down, you know?"
“Hmmm, I’m not surprised.” He shrugged, “It’s not all that common. The last was
about 3 years ago, someone Mr. Jain started with. I suppose it’s forgivable
that he forgot the symptoms, but still, the man should have been screened days
ago, after his first infraction. A few tests would have revealed he was having
difficulties before he lost control all together.”
“… maybe Pavan didn’t see what he didn’t want to
see.” The wild haired soldier sighed, “God knows I’d have a hard time if I
thought that every time a man has a bad day he’s about to go nuts.”
“It’d take more than just a ‘bad day,’ although they’ve never proven if severe
emotional distress can trigger a mild rejection. Most of the time it’s just
some latent mental imbalance that takes a year or two to work itself out…
either that or the applicant didn’t take the screening process seriously, but
it is supposed to be a challenge to lie on the exams.”
Zack chuckled, obviously remembering his own interrogation style mental
aptitude tests. “They are certainly vigorous about catching you off guard with
your answers.” He flopped sideways back onto his bed,
completely at ease with his childish behavior. Sephiroth wondered if it was an
insult or a complement paid, that the younger officer could be so relaxed
around him. “… so all that stuff you told him… was that for his benefit? Or for ours?”
“I’d like to think that he heard me and will remember it.” The general
reached back to grab for his bottle of water, “I imagine it’s a little
unnerving to loose control like that. I know if I was in their position, I
would want someone to take the time to explain things to me.”
“Do you think it ever will?” Curious, his friend watched him from the cot.
Sephiroth took a drink and weighed his answer carefully. Somehow he wanted to
be drinking something a little stronger than water, but there was nothing in
his supplies that qualified. “I think, that if it hasn’t happened by now, it
probably never will.”
“… but you never know, do you…”
“No. There is no predicting when or why a perfectly balanced psyche will
develop complications.” He agreed. “And to be fair, I think the scientists have
their hands full dealing with physical complications more than mental ones.”
“Sometimes, I think that I am probably going to be the only survivor of this
program, when all is said and done.” Even simply thinking about the welcome
numbness of being drunk seemed enough to let his subconscious get the better of
him. He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud until he looked over at his
officer’s alarmed expression. Wincing, he quickly clarified, “In terms of
exiting the team for non-medical reasons. The survivorship of even the severe
medical disqualifications is rather high.”
“Well that’s nice to know.” Zack rolled his eyes. “So what are you saying, the
only ways out of this outfit are to get blown away in combat, develop a twitch,
or get diagnosed with cancer?”
“Pretty much.” He shrugged again. “You were briefed on
this before even undergoing testing, as I recall.”
“Doesn’t have quite the same impact on paper, ya
know?”
Sephiroth shrugged in grim amusement. “You trying to tell me you want out?”
“Hell no,” the dark haired man threw him a genuine grin. “I wasn’t planning to
live to see fifty anyway.”
*****