You couldn't really call it rain. Not exactly. It was too cold for that. The fat drops that filled the air almost floated down to the ground, their progress retarded as they tried mightily to turn into snowflakes, but for all their effort could not quite make it. Sleet, that was what it was, precipitation suspended in that nebulous state between rain and snow, as if not quite able to make up it's mind what it wanted to be. There was no patter of rain on Tifa's umbrella. The sleet settled silently upon it, and on the ground around her. In fact, everything seemed strangely silent. There was no wind, the sleet fell straight down upon her. The birds that had not already flown south for the winter were not engaged in song, but instead huddled together in the trees waiting for the storm to abate. Even the nearby road was silent, no cars passing, no one out on this miserable day, not that Tifa could blame them. The world was muffled, shrouded in a blanket of silence.
Rude stood beside her, here on a grassy knoll on the outskirts of the city. She glanced over at him now. He stood there, square jawed, erect, almost stiff, and she had to wonder what he was feeling. He and Reno had been friends for so long, much longer than she. She had to wonder if he felt the same kind of anguish she did. He had too, didn't he? They had been best friends, inseparable. He stood beside her, silent, just like the rest of the world. The entire trip here, and since they had gotten out, he had not uttered a single word.
She hadn't spoken either. Rude had never really treated her badly, even when they were enemies, and she knew that he kind of liked her, a little, but he had always seemed a bit... intimidating. He wasn't one to waste words on idle chatter, nor particularly tolerant of the chatter of those around him. He had a way of looking at you that made anything that came out of your mouth seem stupid. He was the epitome of the phrase; if you have nothing to say, then say nothing at all.
Not that she felt much like talking now anyway.
If anything, she wanted to say she was sorry. It was silly to blame herself, she knew. She also knew Rude would never hold what she had done against her, nor Reno for that matter. He had made his own choices and there had been little she could have done about it, yet she still didn't feel blameless. So much she could have done, so many little things, little steps that she could have taken or not taken that would have changed this outcome. If she hadn't agreed to dance, if she would have told Reno what she was doing, if she hadn't gotten him to baby sit...
She wanted to say she was sorry but she didn't, the words just couldn't pass her lips. Even if they did, they would sound hollow, pointless. Nothing she could say could change what had happened.
She shivered, and it wasn't from the cold, though it was that. She was cold and uncomfortable, and she wished with all her might that she wasn't here, that she didn't have to be here, that none of this had happened.
But wishing wasn't going to change anything.
It was funny, she and Reno had been enemies for so long and yet they had never hated each other. Not really, not even after Reno had killed her friends. She had tried mightily to hate him then, but she just could never bring herself to do it. She had never really hated anyone, not even Sephiroth. It just wasn't in her nature. Like so many other things about her, she had never been sure if that was a weakness or a strength. She had always hoped that somehow Reno might find a way to straighten out his life. Especially after she had finally gotten to know him, she had realized what she had only once suspected, that there was a lot of good in him. He might have been hell on people he didn't know, and his drinking might have had him well on his way to destroying his life completely, but one couldn't ask for a more loyal friend. It wasn't up to her to judge him, certainly. Who could say she would have acted differently if they had been put through what Reno had, if she had lived the kind of life he had? Not, of course, that her life had exactly been a bed of roses either...
Still, she had hoped that somehow he'd be able to right himself, to redeem himself.
And who was to say that he hadn't?
When she was a small child she had been told that rain at a funeral meant the angels were crying. Tifa wasn't sure if sleet counted. She didn't think so, and she certainly didn't think there were any angels crying for Reno.
That was okay though, she had more than enough tears of her own to shed.
It was all she had left to give him.
She and Rude stood in a small cemetery perched on a sloping grassy hillside. The road was off to their left, partially concealed behind a thick stand of pine trees. Above them at the apex of the hill a steeply gabled church stood out against the background of the sky. The church was small and very old, a church with a history, the kind of place that was filled with the musty smell of tradition. The graveyard was small, surrounded by a white picket fence, the whole place having a country look to it. To their right, farther down the hill, they could just make out the blue of the ocean through the sleet and haze. Though they were on the outskirts of Junon, the skyline was hidden by the trees. The church would have fit right in in any of the small towns on the planet, far from any city. The place seemed idyllic, a picture out of a storybook.
Just the kind of place Reno would probably hate.
Tifa didn't care. Rude had left it up to her where to lay Reno to rest. Neither one of the Turks had been particularly religious. This was the nicest place she could find. She wanted to give him this, some taste of a life he never had, a place where maybe he could find some peace.
God, why did life have to be so hard? She felt so overwhelmed, so helpless, just like she had when her mother died, her father, Aeris... So many good people, and yes, she did include Reno in that group. He'd saved her daughters life, not once, but twice. In her mind, that more than made up for any of his faults.
And here she was, left to carry on. In a way she thought Reno was lucky. It was over for him. He didn't have to suffer anymore, but for her, the suffering just went on and on. More than once in the last couple of days she had wondered if it was all worth it. Maybe it was time for her suffering to end too.
But of course, she didn't give in to that thought. She couldn't, as long as she still had what Reno had given his life to keep, as long as she still had Karisa.
It was so strange. Five minutes. How a life could hinge on such a miniscule amount of time. If she would have come home just five minutes sooner she would have walked right into the middle of it all, she might have been able to help Reno, he might still be alive.
Or maybe she might be in the ground beside him.
She choked up on that thought, and for the first time a sob escaped her lips. She had been crying quietly this whole time they had been here, the tears falling silently in a silent world. Reno was gone, laid to rest in the cold earth. He had told her once his greatest fear was dying alone, forgotten, and what had happened? She had been too late, he was already gone when she got there, when she found him crumbled up in the alley, a solitary figure in the dark, all alone.
She wondered if it gave him any comfort now, knowing that at least he was not forgotten, that he would never be forgotten.
She stirred slightly as she felt a light touch, turning as Rude's arm slipped surprisingly over her shoulders. Surprising, because he had never been known as one willing to provide comfort to another, not in that way, anyway, and yet comforting it was. Even if he didn't show it, with him here, she knew at least she wasn't alone in her sorrow.
The place was deserted now. Not even the most dedicated mourners were willing to brave this weather, willing to place flowers on a grave that would quickly wither anyway. There had been a brief ceremony earlier, when Reno had been put to rest, and Tifa hadn't expected anyone else to be there for that either, but, surprisingly, a large black limo had shown up shortly after the ceremony had started. A chauffeur had opened the door and an older couple had emerged, a distinguished looking gentleman with silver hair and a woman of equal bearing. Tifa had looked at them curiously, but they had spoken no word, nor even approached, just stood there silently by the car until the ceremony was over, and then they had left.
Tifa had been too broken up to speak at all at the time, but now she took a deep breath and managed to get a hold of herself, at least, for the moment.
"Who were those people?"
Her voice sounded odd to her after such a long silence, almost like a stranger, like something foreign invading the silence.
In spite of the fact that the couple had left long before Tifa spoke those words, Rude seemed to know exactly who she was talking about.
"They were his parents."
Tifa turned toward him at that, her mouth dropping open slightly. She stood there immobile, staring at Rude, who after a moment gave her a sort of puzzled look, a look she imagined was mirrored on her own face.
"His... parents?" she repeated slowly. "But I thought..."
The puzzled look on Rude's face remained for a short time, but then was slowly replaced by one of enlightenment.
"I take it he told you an interesting story about how his father was an alcoholic and how he and his mother ran away from him, and then she was killed by some pimp?"
Tifa's mouth dropped even farther, confirming the accuracy of his deduction.
"Yeah that was one of his favorite stories," Rude continued.
He stopped again, looking at Tifa, but she remained speechless, stunned by this revelation, as it sank that this was the truth, that Reno had lied to her about even that and she didn't have any idea whether to laugh or cry or just scream in frustration.
And she did none of the above. If there was one time in his life that she would have sworn Reno was telling the truth, it was then, when he had told her about his parents. He had done it again, he had gotten her even now, even after he was gone. It was perfect, was just so Reno of him.
She could only shake her head.
"What were his parents like Rude?" she asked, finally.
Rude took a deep breath, staring off at the horizon before answering.
"His father was in the shipping business. An immigrant from Gongoga. Came to Midgar without a gil in his pocket. You know, one of those work yourself up from nothing people? Ended up very rich. They lived up on top of the plate, in sector one."
They must have been rich, Tifa thought. Sector one of Midgar had been the most affluent sector of all.
"His mother was very prim and proper. Used to hold dinner parties, hobnob with the other ladies of society, that sort of thing. Reno hated it all. He ran away when he was fifteen. Well, actually he ran away plenty of times before that but that was the last time, the time he didn't come back. He hated his parents, he hated their lifestyle, he hated everything they stood for. I don't even really know why. As far as I can tell, they didn't treat him badly."
Tifa wasn't sure what to make of that. She still felt a little bewildered by Reno's deception. She could still hardly believe he had lied to her about this. All this time she had thought his home life had been what had caused him to be the way he was, had thought his behavior could be explained, if not condoned, by the traumatic things that had happened to him when he was young. If he hadn't had that kind of life, if his youth hadn't been traumatic, then what explanation was there for how he had turned out?
"They moved to Costa del Sol after Midgar was destroyed," Rude went on. "Least, that's what I heard. Reno never talked about them. They didn't approve of his lifestyle, of course, and they certainly didn't approve of the Turks, or me for that matter, which is probably why they didn't come over here. As far as I know, after he left, he never saw them again. I'm kinda surprised they showed up at all, actually."
Which was sad, of course, but no where near as sad as the story Reno had fed her. It didn't make sense. What had he expected to accomplish? Did he think that his sob story would make her feel sorry for him? Obviously it had worked so maybe it did make sense after all, and yet, the chances of her finding out the truth, and how that would make her feel about him, well, it just didn't seem worth the risk to her. She would have just told the truth, but of course that wasn't Reno's way of doing things. He had lied to her, but that was nothing new now was it? If fact, knowing him the way she did, she should have suspected his story from the very beginning but she hadn't, she had fallen for it, as usual and now, well now it didn't matter at all, did it?
Just one last joke he had played on her, once last comeuppance. It was something he probably would have relished.
She shivered. The wind had stirred up, swirling around her suddenly, not too strong but enough to blow the sleet across her body and face for a moment, until she tilted the umbrella to compensate. The precipitation felt like little icicles against her face.
Again she felt Rude's light touch, his hand once again reaching out to rest on her shoulder.
"Are you ready to get out of here?"
It made sense to leave. The day wasn't fit for man or beast, as the saying goes. The ceremony was long over. There was no more reason to linger.
And yet Tifa's feet seemed to refuse to want to move. She looked down at the simple stone on the ground in front of them, the stone with Reno's name and the year he was born and died. Why do they put that on a stone anyway? Was that information important in any way? It certainly wouldn't matter to Reno, but then again, there wasn't much that had mattered to him. The undertaker had asked her what to put on the stone and she hadn't known what to say. Something glib, that was what Reno probably would have wanted, but nothing glib came to mind. It wasn't a burden she had wanted to begin with. She had taken care of all the details and all the time felt like it should have been someone else's responsibility, some loved one should have taken care of it, not her.
It was painful to think that she and Rude were the only people in the world Reno might have been close too, might have called friends, might have been loved ones. That was something that should have been reserved for family.
The wind was cold, she was freezing, yet still she stood there at the foot of the grave, her tears still falling silently, freezing on her face before they reached her chin. She didn't want to walk away, she didn't want to leave him here, like this. There was something final about it all, but what could she do? No matter how much she wanted it to be different, it was all too late now. Even so, she felt the need for one last gesture.
"We had one moment together," she said slowly. "One moment I will never forget. And I suppose that was the best that either of us could have hoped for."
For a few moments more they stood there silently, then Tifa squared her shoulders and turned to look at Rude.
"Okay, I'm ready now."
They turned away then. Tifa wiped her eyes and started her feet in motion. There was no point in dwelling on this, just like there hadn't been on any other death she'd witnessed. It was just another of life's burdens that she would have to bear.
They were halfway to the road when Rude spoke again.
"He'd not done yet, you know."
With just that, for some reason, Tifa knew just who Rude was talking about. He hadn't told her much about Reno's killer, just that he used to be in the same gang with them when they were teenagers. She hadn't had any desire to know anything more but for some reason, she knew Rude was right. Psi Co wouldn't stop with just Reno. They would want them all, everyone who participated in the break in. They had been to her apartment, that was where the attack took place, which meant Reno's killer knew about her, had probably been there for her, in fact, which just made her that much more sick about Reno's death.
"He won't give up," Rude continued. "He probably won't be back for a while. He likes to let people... stew. He's the most sadistic man I've ever met. He'll want you jumping at shadows before he comes. He never would have made a Turk, he took a little too much pleasure in what he was doing. For the Turks it's business, for him, it was personal. He made it that way. He'll want to look in your face, he'll want to see your eyes right at the end, right when you know that death is coming. You're going to have to be careful Tifa. He may be a sadistic bastard, but he is good at what he does, and he won't give up until we are dead, or he is."
Tifa remained silent, a simple nod of her head acknowledging that she was paying attention. She wanted it all to be over. All she wanted, all she had ever wanted, was for her and her daughter to be able to live in peace. All she wanted was for this empty aching feeling in her gut to disappear, but it wasn't going to, she didn't think it was ever going to. She didn't know how much longer she could go on feeling this way.
He would come. Maybe not tonight, but some night, out of darkness. Reno was a trained Turk, he knew how to fight with just about any weapon. He had been taken by surprise yes, but that hadn't been the first time, and Drax had still killed him. She just wanted it all to be over but it wasn't. She was going to have to fight, she knew that and she hated Drax, hated him for what he had done, as much as she could hate anyone, but she was tired too, tired of it all. She felt like she had been fighting her whole life and she just wanted it to be over. She knew she had the strength to fight, but this time, for the first time in her life, she wasn't sure she had the will.
"Rude, I need a favor."
"Anything."
Tifa glanced at him at that, a little surprised at the quickness of his response and the fact that he had agreed without even knowing what she was about to request. For some reason that made her feel just a tiny bit better.
As they walked back to the road they didn't notice the figure standing up the hill under the eaves of the church, didn't feel his eyes upon them. Rude had told Tifa they had some time, that Drax would not strike right away. Little did they know just how quickly their time was running out.
Later that night Rude walked silently down the street. He wasn't drunk. At least, not in his opinion, and he didn't give a damn about yours. He wanted to be, pretty much more than he ever wanted to be in his life, but he couldn't.
It wasn't safe. Rude was inherently more cautious than Reno. He wanted to go on a binge, for his friends sake, for old times sake, but he couldn't yet. Reno would want it but more than that, he would want Rude to take care of a little business first. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to make Drax pay for what he had done.
So he couldn't get drunk yet, not the way he wanted to, not until the job was done. And so he hadn't had much to drink tonight. The task ahead was daunting. The head of security for the largest company in the world wasn't going to be an easy man to get to.
However, the difficulty of the task wasn't going to stop him.
So here he was, out on the street instead of ensconced in a bar like he had been earlier today, getting in touch with what contacts he had left from his days as a Turk, looking for information, finding out all he could about Drax. He needed to know everything he could about the guy and he was working at a disadvantage. Drax had already struck, already had all the information he needed. Rude was going to have to play catch up and he didn't know how much time he had.
The information was sparse. No one knew too much about the guy. Rude had expected that. Everyone in this kind of business was careful, kept his habits and routines hidden from anyone who didn't have to know them. It was standard operating procedure. He had the advantage of knowing the man as a youth, but that was offset by the fact that Drax knew him as well. Drax also had a large company behind him to back him up or to shield him as necessary. Rude had...
Not a hell of a lot. Most of his contacts had dried up. He didn't know anyone that he considered absolutely dependable anymore. The only person he trusted completely had been Reno.
There was still Tifa, of course. He was certain he could trust her too, and obviously she would be helpful in a fight but he was reluctant. It was silly to think he didn't want to drag her into this, she was already neck deep in it, yet that was how he felt. If he was standing face to face with Drax, now that Reno was dead, he couldn't think of anyone he'd rather have by his side but this fight wasn't going to be like that. This fight was going to take place in the shadows, a cat and mouse game with no rules and no mercy. It wasn't the kind of fight Tifa was good at.
No, he was on his own on this one. He had to face that fact. For the first time in a long time, as long as he could remember, actually, he was going to have to fight without Reno by his side.
And that left an empty aching feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Sure they'd lived dangerous lives. In fact, it was a surprise they'd both survived as long as they had. Still, in spite of the danger, he'd always thought they'd manage to find a way to survive, find a way out of any situation, or at worst, that they'd both go down together.
He had never thought it would end this way.
Still, that wasn't something he had the luxury to dwell on. Not yet. Taking out Drax wasn't going to bring Reno back, but he knew that was what Reno would want. Getting revenge for his friends death was what was expected of him, was demanded of him. Reno would never forgive him if he didn't. It was a matter of honor. He had to be the one to kill Drax, or die trying.
As fate would have it, he would be denied both of those options.
It was late, at least, to the average person, almost midnight. He'd already contacted everyone he could. The list wasn't long these days. There really wasn't anything else for him to do at this point but head home. He was restless but there wasn't much else to do except stop a bar someplace and he knew if he did that he would start drinking and if he did that he had no idea if he would be able to stop.
So home it was. He didn't think he would be able to get much sleep. Home it was to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, plenty of time to think about what might have been.
A man with lesser resolve would have headed for the bar.
He didn't seem to be paying much attention to his surroundings as he walked, but that was deceiving. He was almost home now. He turned the corner, his apartment just down the street to the right now, his head bowed, as if greatly interested in the sidewalk in front of him. There was a couple on the corner on the other side of the street, standing at the edge of the road, talking to one another. Farther ahead, coming toward him, a man was walking his dog. Rude had seen them all before. They were all members of the neighborhood, people he was familiar with. He even knew where the couple across the street lived. Each car that passed, moving down the road beside him, Rude scrutinized. In spite of his outward appearance, he was alert to everything around him, looking around, watching for anything unusual or out of the ordinary.
He didn't think Drax would come after him right away. As he had told Tifa that wasn't the way the man normally operated. He liked to drag things out, like to squeeze every last bit of fear out of his victims, and you didn't do that by killing them quickly. He had a feeling he had some time yet before Drax struck again. That was the way the man had always operated but his natural caution didn't let him depend on that completely. He hadn't known the man in years, it was possible he might have changed in that time.
And that natural caution was what saved his life.
He reached his apartment building and entered. The area was a bit nicer than where Reno had had his flat, but even so it wasn't exactly paradise. The paint on the walls was chipped and cracked in places, but there was no graffiti. You didn't see drunks and the homeless lying on the sidewalk, hunched up under blankets or in cardboard boxes to try to keep out the elements. Here the drunks at least had the decency to stay inside. When Rude reached the top of the stairs on the second floor he saw someone sprawled out against the wall farther down the hall, just past his apartment.
Mr. Murphy, one of the people who lived on the floor, was famous for this very thing. He'd found the man on the floor more than once since he had been living here. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary.
The hallway was dark. There were three lights along the wall and two of them were out. Only the one closest to the stairwell, the one he stood under at this very moment, in fact, was lit. The rest of the hall was shrouded in darkness and that was unusual. He couldn't see the man's face, he wasn't close enough.
Automatically he found his hand reaching inside his coat to rest comfortably on his gun. Sometimes the lights didn't work, sometimes he found his neighbor lying out in the hall, yes, and sometimes you could run across the street without looking and make it to the other side.
That didn't mean he was going to take the chance.
It could be his neighbor lying there on the ground in front of him. On the other hand, it was quite possible for someone to think that was exactly what he would think, that he wouldn't be suspicious, that he would just assume it was his neighbor.
Gun in hand he stepped forward, staring at the man on the ground in front of him, looking at the man's face. He was lying against the wall, his head slightly elevated and looking up at the ceiling.
He stopped again, only a few feet from the man now. He stood there for quite some time, staring. Something was not quite right, he could feel it. There was something odd about the man.
And then he realized what it was. The man was strangely immobile. He was lying across the hallway floor, right beside one of the doors, his head propped up in what looked like a very uncomfortable angle. It didn't seem like a position someone would choose to lie in. Of course a drunk might not really care but it was more than that. There was no trace of movement at all. Rude realized he couldn't even see the slow rise and fall of the man's chest as he breathed.
He was close enough now to make out the man's face. It was his neighbor all right, but that wasn't important anymore, what was important was the dark liquid he could now see pooling on the floor beside the man.
With a curse he spun around, realizing the man for what he was, just a diversion. Even as he turned he saw movement, a dark shadow behind him, and then pain, pain ripping through his arm.
The gun fired, but he knew the shot had gone awry. He stumbled backward, trying too late to avoid the blow, and too his dismay saw the gun fall from his suddenly nerveless fingers.
He came to an abrupt stop as his back slammed into the wall. He lifted his head and saw his attacker standing in front of him.
After the flurry of motion it was as if time had stopped, for suddenly everything went silent. Rude stood there, his left hand gripping his torn arm, his eyes glancing from the man to his gun on the floor and knowing reaching it before he was dead was an impossibility.
Drax obviously felt the same way, for though his sword was poised in front of him, he did not strike, instead he just stood there looking at Rude and slowly, slowly his lips curled into a smile.
The battle was over, over almost before it had begun. In spite of Rude's cautious nature he had still been caught by surprise. He knew Drax could kill him now, he knew Drax knew it, but the man wouldn't be anxious to kill too quickly. This was what he savored, having his opponent in front of him, defeated, knowing there was nothing he could do to save himself, knowing that death was upon him.
It was a moment, Rude knew, that Drax loved to drag out.
Rude's gun was too far away. Drax was blocking his way back to the stairs. Behind him the hall ended in a dead end. There was no way out, no options for Rude except to stand there and die, or try to attack Drax with his fists, which they both knew would end the same way. Rude was trapped. Drax was just standing there waiting, and Rude knew what he was waiting for.
He was waiting to see the despair in Rude's eyes.
There was a point when someone knew it was over, when they knew they were staring death in the face, and that there was nothing at all that they could do about it. It was that point that Drax lived for, that one moment in time when he could look his opponent in the eye and see defeat there, to know, and to know that they knew, that he had beaten them. It was always there, no matter how strong or how defiant a person appeared, it was there, sometimes for long seconds, other times for just a fleeting moment, but it was always there.
Waiting for that moment, Rude realized he had been given a reprieve. He should already be dead. Drax's sword was poised, and he was well within range of a killing thrust. He had been given a reprieve, but it would only last a moment.
And in that moment, Rude spun around and ran.
He had no illusions about his chances of survival. The hall was dead end, a small closed window looking out onto the street two floors below the only way of egress, but Rude would never be able to open the window in time, and it was a straight drop down to the pavement below. A moments hesitation and he knew he would feel Drax's steel, and this time, the blow would be certain to kill.
So Rude didn't hesitate, he raced down the hall and launched himself into the air, straight at window at the end.
He would take his chances with the glass and the fall. He was almost certainly dead either way, but this way, at least this way he could cheat his opponent, could steal Drax's satisfaction. It wasn't much, just one small final act of defiance, but he knew it would piss Drax off.
The building was old, the windows made of simple glass, glass that could not possibly stand up to his weight. It exploded outward as he hit it. The glass tore into him as he passed through, but he felt no pain. It didn't matter now anyway. He knew only concrete lay below him, and that his body would not be able to stand up to that. There wasn't any point in dwelling on that, wasn't any point in dwelling on anything at all. He hadn't gotten his revenge, he regretted that but it was too late now. Even now he wasn't one to dwell on things, wasn't one to fret or have regrets. He had lived life fast and hard and had expected no less of an end than this. His last thought, before the ground rushed up to meet him, was that he just didn't give a damn anymore.
Surprise, anger, resignation. The was pretty much the cycle of emotions that Drax went through. Surprise at Rude's actions. He had expected Rude to fight, no matter how much the odds were stacked against him. To see him turn and run had been a shock, more of a shock when Rude had gone through the window. Then anger when he realized that Rude had taken a course of action he had not anticipated. As Rude had suspected, he had been looking forward to driving his sword into the man, watching his eyes as the life faded from them. Rude had cheated him of that and he was not used to being cheated. He stepped up to the window, looking down through the broken glass at Rude's body splayed on the sidewalk below him. Already a car had stopped, and he could see people approaching from farther down the street.
Rude might not be dead. He was not moving but he could have survived the fall. It was only two stories, though still onto the hard concrete of the sidewalk. With people gathering, however, he would have no chance to make sure the job was done. Even though he worked for Psi Co he still couldn't risk murdering someone in front of witnesses without fear of prosecution, at least, not yet. Rude had outwitted him.
Sort of. Rude was still the one lying on the pavement below. If he wasn't already dead, he was severely wounded, and so, this was where the resignation part came in. The mission hadn't gone according to plan. They rarely did. One of Drax's greatest assets, in his mind, was his ability to adapt to any situation. This whole attack had been against his wishes. He hadn't wanted to strike so soon, but the President wanted people dead, wanted people dead now and Drax knew better than to keep the man waiting. This didn't change much. Rude had no one to depend on, no one to protect him. Shinra and the Turks were gone. Because of what had happened no one in the underworld would support him, and Rude certainly wasn't going to go to the police. His only real choice was to run and he was in no condition to do that at the moment. If he was alive Drax could come back and get him at his leisure.
No, this hadn't gone perfectly, hadn't gone perfectly right from the start. He hadn't expected Reno to be at Tifa's house either, but that had worked out well enough and this had too. With both Reno and Rude out of the way, with no chance of their interfering, the girl would be a piece of cake. He could take his time with her, do it right.
He stepped back, fading into the shadows as the crowd continued to grow on the street below. By the time anyone came up to the window he would be long gone, the darkness protecting him. He couldn't afford to get caught now. The night was still young, and he had much more to do.