December 21, 7:30 pm
Agent Lang had been questioning them for about 15 minutes. Bobby didn’t think it was anywhere near as pleasant as Gumshoe. Maybe that was just because they’d been friends, and the man he was sharing a body with had let him take the lead on the conversation.
No-one was taking the lead on the conversation with the interpol agent.
Agent Lang had taken off his coat, laying it out over the chair as he paced slowly back and forth before No-one, his sharp eyes boring into him as he bared his teeth in what could charitably be called a smile. Charitably.
“You’ve been very forthcoming, phantom. I suppose we can be grateful for that, at least.”
He shrugged.
“No need to thank me. I’m honoring my side of the agreement in the hope that your people will honor yours.”
You’re sure you don’t want me to talk to him?
Fulbright– Dick we knew personally. And he’s an easily swayed idiot. Agent Lang is neither. If he thinks I’m putting on a performance for him he’ll be more hostile, not less.
You shouldn’t say that about Gumshoe.
It’s true though.
I like him.
That doesn’t make it less true. Anyway you’re also an idiot.
Lang leaned forward, his hands in his pockets.
“We’ve been hunting you and your pack down for some time, you know.” His voice was sharp, despite the casual tone. “Governments…corporations…the people left behind, they all cried out for someone to do something.”
He chuckled low under his breath “…gotta ask, does it pay well? An old friend of mine said it’s the kinda job that pays like shit, but I don’t exactly believe her.”
“I imagine it varies,” No-one answered. “My fellow assets and I are not… paid.”
A memory flashed through their mind.
Your compensation is the right to keep living in this world. A right we can take away at any time.
Fulbright recoiled internally. What a cold thing to say to a child.
“Not paid, eh?” Lang clapped his hands together.
“Lang Zi once said ‘A dog left unfed by its master will turn to a wolf snarling at his door’. “ He looked down at No-One over the bridge of his nose. “Tell us everything and anything you know, and we’ll make damn sure we knock the door off its hinges. Call it backpay in the form of taking your pound of flesh.”
Is he offering you revenge or something?
I guess. Not too surprising. I think most people in my circumstances might want some revenge.
Do you?
Come on, Fulbright, you know me. I don’t want anything.
You can’t lie to the guy in your own head, you know. I think you want your own kind of justice.
“Interesting proverb,” No-one nodded. “It’s true I have no love for my ‘masters’ as you call them. It would be interesting to see what happens with them disassembled.”
“My ancestor was an interesting man.” Lang said with a sharpening of his smile.
“Disassembled. Hell of a way to put it, but I agree…it’s always interesting to see what an organization on the ropes tries to pull when cornered by the wolves.”
He punched his hand “you’re a lucky man, getting another chance like this. Use it well, and help us damn your ‘masters’ to the pits of hell. Starting with where they’re headquartered…or where you trained, if nothing else.”
“We were moved frequently, especially in the early years,” No-one explained distantly. “The facilities didn’t have windows. We were moved through private airfields and on buses. We were taught several languages at once and our handlers rotated which they’d speak to us.”
He closed his eyes and reached for a deep memory.
“One time, just before we started being given actual missions we were moved somewhere on a bus. There was a conversation between Specs and some kind of checkpoint official. They were speaking a korean dialect.”
“Now ain’t that interesting.” Shi Long Lang snapped his fingers, “Korean dialect, eh? I’ll have to keep that in mind. Run it past my sources.”
He paced across the room in a semi-circle, his eyes never once leaving No-One even for a second. “The buses. Windows?”
“Painted over, I’m afraid, sir. My first real contact with the outside world was my first mission. I did not report in at the same country Ieft from. Allebahst and Spain, respectively.”
For some reason Shi Long Lang laughed, though it only sounded half amused. “Fucking Allebahst. Of course. And what’d they have you do there?”
“I took photographs of the inside of government buildings.”
And you never found out what it was for, right?
Why would I care? It didn’t matter to me.
“Fascinating stuff.” Lang leered…or maybe it was a smile “…you got a time frame for this expedition? I’d like to check a little something with a source of mine.”
“June of 2013,” he answered.
No-one remembered facts and dates and sounds, and smells and sights much better than he remembered any emotional response to them. He remembered the warm sun on his face as he stood in front of a food truck across from a government building winding the film on his camera.
A lot different from the facility, huh? Fulbright suggested. I think you liked being out there.
Maybe.
“June of 2013…right about in the aftermath of the civil war.” Lang mused “You took the photos and left? Did you meet right with…what was it, Specs?”
“No, the other one– Bolo.” We just called them both sir. No-one reached up to adjust their sunglasses and remembered they weren’t wearing any. “I reported back to him in the kitchen of an empty restaurant in Barcelona. Then he put me in the back of a car with blacked out back windows and drove seven hours. We got out in a wheat field, and I was brought down into another facility like the ones I was trained in.”
“Seven hours.” he murmured “outta Barcalona.”
The man didn’t take a single physical note, but the look in his eyes said he wasn’t missing any of it. As his sharpened teeth grit together, he barked out another question “You feel many turns on the way? And do you remember the direction you were facing when they put you in there?”
“We probably spent about an hour or two going in circles,” No-one explained. “Beyond that, I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell you,”
“Well. It’s better than nothing.” Lang laughed, clapping his hands together.
“Lang Zi says ‘Even a speck of blood can lead a talented hound to the right path.’ Heh…remember the physical features of your handlers, Mr. Phantom?”
“If you give me paper, I could probably draw them,” No-one offered. “Specs was blond. Hair around the jaw. Thick, black rimmed glasses. Thin, with a sharp face. Usually no facial hair. Bolo was stout. Golden complexion, wide nose, dark eyes. I saw him wearing a white cowboy hat once.”
They seem like… quite the characters when you explain them like that, Bobby considered.
They probably were. Characters, I mean. I doubt they were their genuine selves while they were working.
Lang smirked, and reached across his black silk shirt towards his empty shoulder holster…where he pulled out a small pad and pencil and offered it to him with a wink.
“Let’s play a little show and tell.”
No-one accepted the pad and pencil, and held them a little awkwardly with his chained arm, but he didn’t complain. He just started sketching.
You’re really good at that. Better than some of the police sketch artists I’ve seen, Fulbright observed.
We were trained to. For circumstances where cameras were unavailable.
Lang leaned on the wall nearby, peering at him. “Did your organization ever have you work with other organizations? Was there collusion? Cooperation?”
“If they did, I wasn’t party to it. All of my operations were solo operations,” he explained as he drew. “I suspect that’s how they operated in general. They didn’t like… collusion between assets.”
They were afraid of you, Fulbright said. Afraid that if you ever worked together you’d take apart their organization– or at least, them.
No-one gave no answer.
“Makes sense to me.” Lang nodded “keep a man isolated from the rest of the pack, and you can control him better.”
His dark eyes stared firmly at him “Like all the rest this was a solo op, I imagine. How often did you need deep cover…how many people have you had to kill to take their place? And…”
His voice trailed off before he grit his teeth and said “I want a full list of previous identities you may have gone on in the past.”
“Understood,” he said. “I’ll write out the list for you after I finish this sketch. This was my longest deep cover mission. The longest before this was one month. I’ve killed three people for that purpose.”
He probably expects that to be a longer list, huh? Fulbright considered.
That’s not my problem. This mission was very unusual for me.
Lang laughed , his arms crossed “Three. Got it. This job must have felt interminable, eh?”
“It was very different,” he admitted. He tore the page with the drawing off and offered it to Lang.”I was not… in a hurry to be finished with it.”
Lang took the drawing and gave it a once over, flipping it in his fingers.
The cocky smile was gone, replaced with something pensive “…I imagine not, actually.”
He chuckled raspilly “that makes sense. Shame it had to come tumbling down, huh?”
“Everything ends sooner or later.”
You’re sad about it?
It’s just a fact.
The picture that he’d handed Lang was quite detailed and in a very realistic style. It was almost as good for identification as a photograph.
Lang tucked it into his empty holster.
“Too true, too true.” He smiled that wolfman’s smile again, “but things start, too. Play along with prettyboy’s bargain and one day you might find yourself in it for the long haul.”
“We’ll see.” No-one tore off the next page, and handed his list to Lang.
Lang scanned it as well, before putting it with the other, in a small pocket.
“Trust me. Stranger things have happened.” he chuckled under his breath. “Lemme ask you one more thing.”
No-one sat up and nodded.
“I’m listening.”,
“If we were to find and bring in your handlers or their masters…can we count on you to provide positive identification before we deal with ‘em?”
No-one’s eyes shrank to pin-pricks and he went silent.
Bobby could feel him freeze up. It was like a block of ice on his chest as No-one simply tried to disappear at the very question, his fear like a wave of cold water washing over them.
Bobby swam to the surface and smiled nervously at Lang.
Lang’s eyes were piercing over his fang-baring smile.
“It wouldn’t be face to face, if that’s what you’re worried about.” he paused, head tilting, “though I didn’t expect nerves from the man without fear.”
“You didn’t watch the trial, Agent? Seems like there’s no man without fear after all, eh?” Bobby chuckled awkwardly. “But you can have no fear in this case. You have my complete cooperation bringing them to justice. Whatever you need.”
No-one still hadn’t come out from the cold, dark place.
“Looks like there ain’t. But that ain’t a bad thing” Lang’s smile turned a touch less sharp as he spread his hands wide. “Fear’s just part of the human experience. But if you face it and help me…we’ll see real justice done, no matter what.” He put his hand to his chest “you have Shi Long Lang’s word on that. Your safety, and justice brought to the doorstep of those who think they can dodge it.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, Agent Lang.” Bobby went to salute, and his cuff clinked against the bed. He sighed. “I’ll be happy to work with you on the side of justice.”
December 21, 9:15 pm
Miles paused the tape as the interview ended, and he poured two fresh glasses of wine, handing one to Franziska, who was sitting on his desk as they watched.
“So what do you think?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to dispel the tension that had gathered there.
Franziska took a long sip from her wine before she muttered. “This is either a brilliant idea…or the worst one we’ve had yet, little brother. We have information, but who knows how good it’ll be if this organization moves as fast as he says.”
“Lang’s people have already been to Fulbright’s apartment while his interview was taking place. I received a message that they were able to retrieve the documents that he mentioned to Gumshoe, at least.” Miles sighed and sipped his wine too. “I know it’s a risk, but you can see from the interview that these people have no respect for human life. And they’re operating at a high level. They think they’re immune from consequences. From prosecution.”
“And for that they are fools.” Franziska’s fingers lowered to the whip coiled by her side as her other hand tilted the wine glass back and forth.
“They’re monsters, Miles. I’ve seen some wretched sorts over the years, but their disregard for basic human …anything, is deplorable. But they aren’t perfect. They’ll be stopped…the question becomes how soon. And will our friend remember enough to help us catch them.”
“He already may have given us something,” MIles considered. “Interpol’s watching the apartment now. Which means if this other agent comes to ‘clean the joint up’ as they say in film– then suddenly we’ve got ourselves another one of their men.”
Franziska snorted softly through her nose.
“that much is true.” Her eyes bored into the frozen image, “let’s hope one is stupid enough to come knocking. I want to see those drawings Lang received ASAP.”
“I’m supposed to have a copy tomorrow morning. I’ll make sure you do too.” Miles turned and looked at the paused image again, and the smiling man in the bed.
“What do you make of him, Miles?” Franziska mused, her brow furrowing as she watched the same frozen image.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he admitted. “It’s strange– eerie, even– watching him change back and forth like that. I was acquainted with him for a year, you know. Not well, but obviously he was in and out of the prosecutorial office…”
“And was he always like this? Bouncing back and forth.” Franziska nibbled her nail with a frown. “…you may be right about him needing trusted therapy. I haven’t seen a man at odds with himself so bad since…well. Back when I was still prosecuting in LA.”
“He absolutely was not like this,” Miles told her firmly. “He never once dropped the act in the year I knew him, and everyone I’ve spoken to says the same. If I didn’t know better I’d think that the Fulbright persona was the real one and the flat affect was the result of some kind of brain damage. I wonder if he might legitimately have snapped under Athena’s scrutiny last night. You can see why I insisted on the therapy.”
“Between that and the sniper round at the peak of his anxiety, I think you have a point.” Franziska crossed her arms “…you have an international spy in the midst of a mental breakdown bouncing back and forth between cold and collected and a foolish little police detective.”
She closed her eyes and took a sip of wine “I admit I’m curious where it all leads.”
“So am I, Franziska. And I won’t admit it to anyone but you, but I’m a little worried as well.”