I think I've probably been trying to write this fic for a couple years now.
summary: Reno's ambition is finally revealed.
“Blind Ambition”
Rude yanked the black canvas hood off the teen-ager’s head. The skinny, lanky young man thrashed about for only a moment as his eyesight adjusted to the interrogation room’s bright lights.
“What the fuck, yo?” The redhead snarled when he realized that he was cuffed at the wrists and ankles. “Oi, ya coulda just asked politely.”
“Shut up,” Rude growled as he smacked him upside the head, though not hard enough to knock him out.
“Do forgive my colleague,” Tseng apologized as he sat across the table from his agitated prisoner. “He exemplifies his namesake quite well at times.”
“What? Dickless asshole? Too-much-of-a-pussy-to-hit-a-guy-from-the-front?”
Rude went deadly still and Tseng could tell that if he didn’t defuse the situation pretty quick, Mr. Wilder would end up unconscious again. “Rude has his reasons for not wanting to face you, but it has nothing to do with cowardice.”
“Whatever. Can we just get on with it? What do ya want to know?”
Tseng raised an eyebrow at him, “What makes you think I need to do anything more than verify that we have the right man?”
Wilder snorted, “Yeah, or the good enough man. Don’t play me like I don’t know how the company works. I grew up in the slums.”
“I know,” Tseng replied softly, “I know quite a bit about you, Mr. Wilder. The question is: Even if you are willing to talk, do you have any useful information for us?”
“Call me Reno, will ya?”
Tseng made a face, “Is that some kind of street name?”
“Nah, I went by stupid shit like Red or Cerulean ‘cause of my eyes. Reno’s my Turk name. Pretty cool, huh? Took me years to think that up--”
Tseng cut him off harshly, “Is this some kind of joke to you, Mr. Wilder?”
“Do ya honestly think I went to all that trouble gettin’ in with Wall Market’s organized crime ‘cause I wanted that life?” Wilder asked with a note of exasperation in his voice. “Listen, I know all the players and how their business goes down. With my help you could seriously clean house on Wall Market.”
Tseng was so stunned that it was Rude who finally spoke. “Wait...You’ll do all that in exchange for....”
“I want to be a Turk,” Wilder stated clear as day. “I couldn’t afford the tuition at the academy so I figured out another way.”
Tseng finally regained his composure and glared at the young man condescendingly. “If you think the company would hire an uneducated slum brat just because he could offer up a few names, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“Fine, that’s cool. You got no reason to trust me,” Wilder shrugged, “Let me be your man on the inside. I’ll bring you information, wear a wire, whatever you want.”
Tseng scrutinized him closely. He wasn’t lying; he would risk death for this ambition. Of course it occurred to him that just this sort of dedication was one of the most important trains for a Turk to have. Still...Wilder was right. He had no reason to trust him.
“Work with us for three months as an informant. If you prove to be as useful as you claim to be, I will talk to my boss about sending you to Junon for proper training to be a Turk.”
“Good deal,” Reno nodded. “Now, couldja get these cuffs off me? They’re startin’ to chafe.”
“Of course,” Tseng replied as he reached into his jacket pocket. He nodded slightly to Rude, who made a quick hand gesture and muttered an incantation under his breath.
Wilder was put into a magic induced slumber within a few minutes and Tseng worked quickly. He injected Wilder with a mild sedative. A sleeping spell was really only good to get someone unconscious without hurting them. It rarely lasted more than a half-hour and Tseng to didn’t want him waking up before they returned him to the slums. He shoved a PHS into the pocket of Wilder’s pants before turning to Rude.
“Drop him off at the chapel,” Tseng ordered.
Rude nodded, picked the redhead up, and slung him over one shoulder. After he was gone, Tseng removed the tape from the room’s surveillance camera and headed for the nearest elevator.
Finis
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