Chapter 15: Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men

I stumbled as I tried to stand. The world around me felt shaky, my head spun. The agents who’d been on standby now rushed in, the first of them being Elise.

She looked at the… situation, and then at me, as she helped me to my feet. Pulling me into a tight embrace, she said, “I’m so glad you’re okay bro…”

“Yeah…” I said, “I should uhh make the call to HQ, I think… Let them know…”

“Are you sure? I can do it,” she said, as the small team of medics came in. But it was pointless really. William Korspole was already dead.

They put him on a stretcher, carrying it off to the ambulance car.

“I’ll be fine… Wait, what did you just call me?” I said.

“Hm? What?”

“You just called me bro. Since when do you call me bro?”

“Well does it fucking matter?” she said, a bit flustered, as she got defensive.

“No, no. I don’t mind. It’s just… You’ve never called me that before.” I said, with a small smile.

“It’s not like that, you fucking weirdo,” she said, slapping my side lightly, “Mark calls everybody bro. How’s it any different, huh?”

Even in my dazed state, I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. It’s never too late to develop a closer bond with your sibling. Blood related, or not. Family is great to depend upon, in times of need.

“I’m glad that I have you to rely on, sis.”

“Ewww. Shut your corny ass up.”

“Yeah you’re right… Let’s just forget I said anything”

“Deal!“ she laughed softly. “Alright, you go make the call. I’ll see to the other things.”

“Thanks,” I said. Talking with her had helped me to stabilise my palpitating emotions.

But it began to wear off, as I walked back to the phone booth. The door swung close, isolating me from the rest of the world — leaving me once again to the sole company of the swirling hurricane of thoughts inside my head.

As I rang up HQ, my eyes began to water. My voice choked a little as I blinked furiously to hold the tears back.

“This is Liahan Beiker…” I began.

Ah… It really got to me…

“I’m at uhh I’m under the whatsitcalled overbridge…”

This isn’t like me. I never get attached.

“Agh! Just have Surveillance trace my location.”

They’d probably be forwarding this call to the brass—— Great. Fucking great! Just what I need. Having the entire agency hear me sob like a bitch over some random motherfucker I’d been ordered to kill.

“William Korspole was shot. In front of me. Just now. He’s dead.”

He really is dead… It’s my fault… I couldn’t protect him. God damn it all.

“The shooter got away… It wasn’t Faust… It was probably some Division Four member who killed William… I’m not sure… But I think I saw the little ear rings they wear…”

What am I even saying… I mean of course they’d know who shot him. They ordered the kill…

“I uhh he’s okay though. The corpse, I mean. The Vitalis stabilised… There was no deity… Crisis averted, yayy…”

That’s the one silver lining. At least the very worst had been prevented…

“The- the backup squad should have apprehended the shooter by now… Maybe… I dunno… Fuck… Fuck, he’s dead… I couldn’t protect him…”

I should just shut up… They’re going to hear this…

I wanted to hang up, but I couldn’t find the strength to. There was more that I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring it to words. My slipping facade of bravado shattered entirely as I just began to sob.

I could hear some voices from the other end. The call’s being broadcast via intercom live. Even fucking better! Just kill me already.

That’s when I heard a familiar voice on the other side of the line.

“That’s enough. You can turn it off now. We get it.”

It was James. “TURN IT THE FUCK OFF,” I could hear his voice — he was yelling at the transmission guy, probably.

I might have stayed inside the booth for another few minutes, I don't exactly remember. Having composed myself, I recall that I rubbed my eyes dry before I stepped out.

“He’s being taken to a general hospital close by.” Elise said, as I walked to her. “He was killed by a human after all. It’ll just be reported as a drug deal gone wrong. Come on now, I just got word they’ve caught the shooter.”

“Oh? So that’s what Will is now? A fucking junkie?”

“This isn’t your first time Han. You know how coverups work.”

“Yeah, well at least have the story make sense! A drug deal at 8 in the morning?? I mean who’s gonna believe that?!”

“Han… I think you should rest.”

“No. Let’s go see the– Wait, what do you mean they caught the shooter? Didn’t the execs put the hit out on Will?”

“What?” Elise said, in confoundment, “Now why the fuck would they do that? No, seriously Han. Are you okay?”

“Because I got a call from Kristen earlier, asking me to kill Will… Before the- you know…”

“You did?! That fucking bitch… Shit… So she really is a traitor”

“Traitor…? Sorry, what are we talking about?” I said.

We walked up to a group of agents huddled over a body lying on the ground.

“What do we have here Fran?” Elise said.

Her work partner Franyl looked up at her, as he said, “That’s our perp. Blew ‘er brains out when our boys closed in on her.”

The corpse lay in a pool of blood, the face barely recognisable due to the point blank explosive bullet shot into her mouth. The handgun was still in her hand.

“She’s in uniform. Do we have any ID?” I asked.

“Here,” said Franyl, as he handed me the lamination.

I was in for yet another surprise when I looked at the ID, and a familiar face stared back at me. I looked at the body again. Her face was barely recognisable, but it was definitely her…

“Well, who is it?” Elise said, as she craned her neck.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’ll want to hear this…” I said.

She gave me a dirty look, as she snatched the laminate from me. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Well what’d I say,” I patted her on the back, as I added, “Sorry.”

“Aly… What the fuck? Why…?”

The agent who’d shot William was Sally Jengre. Well that’d make two of us who lost a friend today, thanks to a certain shithead pathetic excuse for a Captain. I felt a little betrayed. I used to respect Kristen Marl. Far more than Kyd anyways… Maybe I’ve been too harsh on him.

“I’m gonna kill this bitch Marl when I find her…” I could hear Elise mutter under her breath, gritting her teeth.

“I’m gonna miss the sandwiches Al made. They were to die for… Alright, Elle let’s just get out of here. It’s fucking depressing as shit. I hate being sad. We have paperwork to do at the Hospital. We’ll need to be there when Will’s body gets there. Come on.” I said, tapping her shoulder, urging her to follow me.

“Yeah… Yeah. Just give me a few minutes,” she said, trying to compose herself.

“I’ll go grab a coffee,” I said.

“Mkay. I’ll meet you at the Roshlow cafe,” she said.

“Sounds good… Wait how the fuck do you know what cafe I’m going to?”

She smirked, “Cos I’m your sister. Duh.” After a slight pause, she added “Know what? I’ll just go with you. It’ll be faster on your scooter.”

I nodded slowly before I replied, “Yeah. Let’s go”

—

After being unsuccessful at catching Faust… again, I walked back into the Division Four facility at the Town Square 4th Avenue. My past pride over my espionage skills had now dwindled to non-existence, thanks to my repeated failures at apprehending this one person — if you could even call him that.

The commotion back at the facility reminded me of Captain Marl’s betrayal. The entire place was in disarray. It was six in the evening, and she was still MIA. The tip of her hiding at our base had been false, and tensions within the Division had only grown, since.

There were people out on the streets, going on with their life, celebrating Christmas Eve, unaware of the storm that was brewing. The cafe front had a Closed sign on its door today. As I made my way past the reception counter, into the dine-in room of the cafe, I saw several Internal Affairs agents swarming the place.

As I slouched over my desk in the backroom — filling in some quick paperwork, I heard a voice call out to me. It was Nasty Tom. Ugh, not him.

“No luck?” he asked me.

“No luck, Lieutenant,” I said, as I put the papers down, and turned to face him.

Nate Tomson, Lieutenant of the Assasination Division, was a handsome man. He stood at 6’3, with a muscular build — I mean, bulky arms, chiselled abs, and long meaty legs. Calling him unattractive would be a massive lie. He walked with the suavity of a refined gentleman, his voice was deep and commanding. His brown hair, cut short, paired well with his dark brown eyes, and the piercing on his brow only added to his charms. What wasn’t charming about this man though, was his personality. He was a total sadist who got off people’s torment.

“Best be careful Jake-boy. The rat catchers are here now.”

There it was. He’s in the mood for his games again. This vile man.

“What are you trying to insinuate Lieutenant?” I replied calmly, not willing to fall prey to his usual antics.

“Oh, nothing. Our Captain got exposed for being in bed with the enemy. Even ol’ girl Sally was a rat. You never know who’s next…” he looked at me, with a squint in his eyes, and a slight smirk on his pursed lips. “I’m onto you,” he mouthed.

I didn’t reply to him. I just smiled. I wasn’t going to give in to his cheap bait of an attempt to infuriate me. I simply said, “There’s a briefing session starting in 8 minutes, Lieutenant. See you at the meeting room.”

As I turned to leave, Tom said, “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. Old man Toby’s taking over the department for the time being. He’ll be in charge of the Division until HQ decides who to promote.”

“Tobias Lodge? Will he be joining us?” I asked.

“Yep, he will be.”

“Cool. It’s a shame though, Lieutenant… That HQ wouldn’t trust you enough to make you in charge of the department in the Captain’s absence.”

I saw his face stiffen a little. Not so fun being on the receiving end, aye?

“See you at the meeting room, Jacob,” he said slowly.

“Later then, Nate. Squeak squeak~” I said as I left the room. I headed to the meeting room, to prepare it for the briefing session that I was supposed to head.

I’ve sure been doing a lot of briefing these days, huh?

“You’ve sure been doing a lot of briefing these days, hm?”

I jumped at the sudden voice that had crept up behind me, echoing my thoughts. I turned around to find former Division Three Captain Tobias Lodge, playfully waving hello. He blurted out, “I’m so sorry. Did I scare you?” between his giggles.

“A little!” I admitted, with a chuckle.

“I hope you forgive me, young man. I just wanted to have a chat with you before the meeting starts,” he said, pulling the sleeve of his coat back to glance at the time on his wristwatch.

“Sure thing sir,” I replied, as I opened a little plastic box, and pulled out some printed photographs to string up on the board.

“Do you wish to become the next Captain?” he asked me out of nowhere.

The gears of my brain came to a screeching halt, as I turned back to face him with a puzzled expression, “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“I believe I was quite articulate in expressing myself, Lieutenant Colonel.”

“I… Of course it would be an honour, sir…” I replied.

“But, what? I can tell there’s a but, about to come.”

“Right. It would be an honour, but… Nate Tomson should be next in line for Captain, based on rank and seniority.”

“That’s not for you to worry about, Mr. Islodo. I am only asking whether or not you want to be Captain next.”

This has to be a trick. He could very well be working with IA to gauge my intentions, in case they’re suspecting me to be a rat. I should play my cards carefully here…

“What brings this up, sir?” I asked, instead of replying to his question.

“Well, if you want to make it as Captain… I’d suggest that you give this mission your very best. This could be your biggest chance to prove yourself before the brass. Both you and Mr. Beiker have been in the spotlight for this operation a lot. I’d reckon he will be promoted to at least Division Lieutenant soon.”

“I… I don’t know what to say to that, sir…” I replied.

“You needn’t give me a reply now. You can think about it. I’ll hear your answer at the party, once all of this is over.”

“...Did you just casually invite yourself to my party?” I said, with a raised eyebrow.

“But of course. Being a retired agent gives me free reign to abuse my power however I please,” he quipped back with a wink.

“I’ll give it my best, sir.”

“I know you will,” he said. He then paused for a while, looking at the photos I’d mounted on the whiteboard, before he said, “Internal Affairs is dealing with Marl, so we can forget about her for now. Our chief priority remains to track down Faust… Here’s what I’ll do. You can head the operation to capture Faust. I’ll assign Nate to be our representative for the IA investigation. Does that sound good?”

“You’d do that for me…?” I said, scarcely believing my own ears.

“Yes. You’re a promising young man. How can I not? And, besides… I loathe Nate Tomson. He’s the most repugnant piece of human scum I’ve come across in this agency, and believe me when I say that I’ve come across a LOT of people here…” he said, and laughed — I joined in.

He suddenly stopped, as he leaned in closer to look at one of the photos of Johann Faust on the board. His cheekbones strained as a smile spread on his lips. “So my hunch wasn’t wrong…” he said.

“Hm?” the sound escaped my lips as I mused at the board.

“That man. That’s Faust, right?” he asked, pointing at the photo.

“Sure enough, sir.”

“Hahah… I knew it!” he said, as he turned around to the chair on which he’d placed his backpack — which he now dug through to pull out an ancient-looking folder. He turned through the pages in it, before he handed a yellowed page over to me.

Stapled on a corner of the file was a photograph of a familiar face, only a couple decades younger here.

“Holy sh-mokes! Is that Faust?”

“Well, as you can see, that’s not the name I knew him by,” he replied.

“Joseph Grovenburg… PRECIPICE Department of Research and Science?? He used to work here???” I couldn’t hold in my surprise.

“Before you were even born…” he added with a soft chuckle, “We only had seven divisions back then. R&D used to be called Research and Science. I was assigned this case in ‘73. I was a lieutenant of the Intelligence Division back then. One of the brightest minds in the Science Department had just vanished overnight — it was a huge blow to our organisation. I spent years trying to track him down, and ultimately gave up by ‘78. All these years later, it feels like I’ll finally be able to tie this one loose end from my career here.”

“So the records of his birth we found are…?”

“Most definitely fake,” he said. “A lot of agents here work with forged identities. It’s not uncommon. You do it too, don’t you? James Islodo?”

“I prefer being called Jacob at work, sir.”

“Very well,” he replied. “Your friend Mr. Beiker does it too. It’s only natural to wish to keep your work and private lives separate. Especially when work’s as sensitive as ours. However, I believe Mr. Faust assumed the alias of Grovenburg to infiltrate our agency, which I fear he’s been very successful at. And we were none the wiser…”

“But, doesn’t the organisation do intensive background checks? How did he get past that…?” I asked.

“We do background checks now, yes. But back then, we didn’t. The Crater City branch of PRECIPICE wasn’t nearly as developed in the 70s. The Joy Town branch was Bespia’s biggest at that time.” He paused for a bit, before he said, “...Well, I don't think this information will be all that helpful for you right now, but you can keep these files with you.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m certain they’ll be of great help.”

He smiled, as he nodded. He then said, “My superior at the time had promised me a promotion if I could find Grovenburg. Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t. I mean, I did get the promotion later on, in any case. But… I want you to finish what I couldn’t, young man. Get that promotion.”

I couldn’t help smiling. I really liked this old man. He was cool. I shook his hand in gratitude and admiration.

It was around this time that division members started entering the meeting room, one by one.

“Oh perfect timing,” he said, looking at his watch.

The briefing session was set to start at 6:30 p.m., two minutes from now.

Old man Toby took his seat at the corner of the room, facing all of the attendees. Nate took his place beside me, as I powered the projector on, and thus began the briefing session.

—

A little past eleven at night, the eve of Christmas 1997. Crater City would see its first ever snow in over 70 years. The small white flakes deposited on the ground, the cold misty powder filling in the scars that the cracked roads and buildings of this city had taken over the years — providing one brief moment of respite to the weathered weary souls of the agents who’d been working tirelessly to ensure the city’s safety.

Liahan looked through the window in the hospital lobby, as he silently gazed at the marvellous scene unfolding before his eyes. He turned back at the body of his now deceased friend lying in the room next door, waiting in line for cremation.

A multitude of emotions played in his heart, like different instruments playing in a jazz band, before it all crescendoed to one harmonious symphony — one singular thought. It was gratitude. He felt thankful that at least the very worst had been prevented. At the absolutely minimal least, it hadn’t come to that.

He walked out of the hospital, as he felt the cold flakes of snow fall on his face. A sort of tranquility washed over him.

In another end of the town, James too looked at the same snow that softly descended from the frozen heavens onto the earth below. He felt connected with the person dearest to him, in a way, like never before.

And, likewise, he felt thankful too. Thankful that all the madness and mayhem was finally coming to an end.

At 11:46 p.m., stretchers carried William Korspole’s body into the cremation room. As they slid the corpse into the furnace, and the flames began to feed on the dead journalist’s remains — that’s when it happened.

A huge explosion. Liahan, who stood at a distance from the hospital, turned around to look in horror. The surge of energy in the atmosphere around would have even alerted the blind and deaf that something had come. Something big, and out of this world .

The deity was here, and had already drunk on its first big chug of human life. This incident would be reported in newspapers the day after as the greatest tragedy in Bespian history.

Crater Daily — Breaking News

Massive Explosion at Hospital Claims over 3000 Lives

December 25th, 1997.

Around midnight, an incredible explosion of unprecedented magnitude at the Bespian Central Hospital claimed the lives of an estimated 1747 people, including patients, staff, and visitors. In addition, a lot of civilians residing in nearby areas, and Special Agents patrolling the area were gravely injured, and another 1435 died in the fallout, bringing the current casualty estimate to 3182. The source of the explosion is still unknown. Investigations are underway, and a statement from an anonymous Special Agent suggests that it might be the work of the same Terrorist group responsible for the prior Incident of terror this month.

ELIJAH JONSON,

Chief Editor, C.D.

> To be continued

Author's Note:
Just wanted to shout-out the absolute lifesaver that is my proofreader for the series. 

I don't think I could write this story without him.