The New Shire city skyline was alive with the constant ebb and flow of aircraft. It was still the early morning, yet light was everywhere despite the overcast, somber blue sky. A commercial airliner soon arrived at the terminal, just as another was taxiing away from the runway. Europa Flight 227 came to a halt on the tarmac, the same plane that had just arrived minutes earlier. After its nine-hour journey from London to New Hampshire, passengers began to collect their luggage and head for immigration.
The United States has one of the strictest immigration processes, likely for national security and safety. The rigorous procedure forced everyone into a line over a hundred paces long. Even a single person could take several dozen minutes to pass through, but not for...
"Excuse me, please. Thank you."
Three men moved parallel to the long queue. A tall man with a stylish bob cut hairstyle and glasses in a suit was flanked by two men in navy suits who appeared to be in a hurry. The older man on the left simply pulled a card from his wallet and showed it to the officer at the counter. The officer nodded, allowing all three to pass through immigration with ease. They eventually reached the front of the airport and walked toward a black four-door muscle car waiting for them.
"Now, can you finally tell me where Yuko and John are?" the controlled man asked. The electric guitar and drums on the car radio continued to play rhythmically, ignoring his question.
It was as if he were talking to himself.
"Well... we need to be sure you won't act on your own first. After all, your wife and children are here with us. We promised to keep them safe, and the information you provided has been really useful. In fact, the inhumane Project 707 in Eastern Europe has been mostly dismantled by Interpol, as we know, but the US authorities have expanded the investigation to the related network. However, there's not enough evidence to prosecute or expose them."
"But we agreed that once Project 707 was over, I would be put into the witness protection program. Wasn't the project already taken down, init?" Gene reiterated the deal and the details the older man had omitted earlier.
"Yes!" the older man replied. "But... this case isn't over yet. I can guarantee that because I'm one of the officers working on it. However, you, Mr. Gene, have helped me get a promotion, and I truly want you to be reunited with your wife and children soon. My superior wants us to see this case through to the end, which means we have to link it to the network behind it."
"But that's not what we agreed on," Gene said.
The senior officer went into great detail about his case. Gene could already guess that this man was likely trying to find an excuse to make him work more. Gene knew he had made a deal with the wrong person. Sigh. Gene let out a loud sigh, as if his life would now be spent on empty promises that stretched on forever.
"Mr. Gene— Think about it, you risked selling information about the syndicate you were with, and the real masterminds of that organization still haven't been found. Do you really think they don't know who you are or what you're doing? If you didn't have protection, those powerful people would have sent someone to harm your family and kill you long ago."
"Ever since then, you've had surgery, and I helped you get a new identity. Look at you now, you're like a new person."
"Nobody knows you. The doctors there can change a white into a random wasian guy that been crazy eh!"
Gene said nothing, his expression serene. He stared at the car's front windshield, driving as if lost in thought. His reflection in the glass took him back to the last night he played video games with his son. He remembered even the feeling of it.
"mr.Gene, are you with us?"
The senior officer sitting beside Gene nudged him gently. The older man was agitated but kept his emotions in check, showing no signs of dissatisfaction.
"The car will take you to your temporary habitat. It's a place where you can stay comfortably. You have complete freedom during this time, but don't do anything illegal."
The car stopped on a street lined with five connected apartments. Their exteriors were adorned with small flowers and plants, built in the colonial architectural style of the 1800s. The surrounding buildings are in a similar pattern, elegant but not modern.
"Here, the second unit is where you'll be staying. It only has two floors, and it's not small. It's a bit old. It's actually a storage space of mine, but it should work as a safe house too."
"I'll call you in a little while. Of course, if you accept these works, there is a wage for ya."
Gene nodded, but he still had many unanswered questions. The events since before the airport had happened so quickly that they felt like just a few minutes, even though it had been ten hours.
"Am I still going to see my family?" Gene asked again, the first question he had asked since stepping onto this new land.
"Of course, I promise. Why would I separate someone from their family?"
Gene got out of the car. Hearing this, he felt a little relieved, even though the man's words could easily be unreliable.
"Wait!"
The senior officer shouted. Gienn stopped as he was about to open the door to the house.
"I haven't even introduced myself since we met." The senior officer placed a business card in Gene's hand. "I'm Senior Agent Colm, from the IIA (Investigation Intelligence Agency). It's a pleasure to meet you."
Gene nodded. He took a step and stood at the door. When he turned back to the street, the car was already gone.
...
"Mr.Colm, does he know or doesn't he? The neighborhood he's living in is the Bronx, the most dangerous area in Newshire. That's clearly a joke."
"Nah, I bet he can handle it!"