Arthur's laugh had been loud, but then he remembered that just an hour and a half ago, he had sent a man to the other world. Panic gripped him as the memory hit. He felt like he was going to vomit and covered his mouth with his right hand, trying to stop it.
He couldn't believe he had actually done it.
Seven years in the FBI… and he had never fired his gun. And now… he had shot a man. At least ten years in prison awaited him.
He sat on the floor, threw the book away, and buried his hands in his hair.
(What have I done? How did this happen?)
His body shook from head to toe, sweat pouring down. Despair consumed him—he even wished he had accepted the secret mission his boss had offered him earlier.
Tears filled his eyes.
Just as Arthur was breaking down, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned—there was the guard, standing there.
"Mr. Arthur, you've been released."
Arthur lifted his head, wiping his tears, feeling a cold breeze cut through his overheated body.
"What? How? I… I don't understand."
The guard quickly opened the cell door, in a rush, indifferent to Arthur's state or why he had been there. He just wanted to finish quickly and get back to his coffee and phone.
"Don't worry about it. Come on, out."
Arthur stepped out of the cell, still staring at the guard. He brushed his orange hair back and wiped his face.
"There's a man waiting for you outside," the guard added.
Arthur's voice trembled.
"A man? Do you know who?"
The guard shrugged casually.
Suddenly, Arthur remembered the strange man from the neighboring cell.
"And the man in the other cell?" he asked urgently.
The guard paused, looking at him strangely.
"A man? There's no other man here… only you."
Arthur froze, shock overtaking him.
He sprinted toward the neighboring cell.
"Hey! What are you doing?" the guard shouted, waving his hand.
Arthur placed his hands on the iron bars, his eyes wide and trembling.
The cell… was empty.
No one.
He turned to the guard, barely able to speak.
"I… it's impossible! There was someone here! I spoke to him… yes! The book! He gave me a book."
He ran to his own cell.
"I left it here…!"
But there was no book.
Nothing.
Thoughts swirled in his mind. Had he gone mad from his wife's betrayal? Or from shooting the man? Or was his fate making him hallucinate?
The guard stood behind him, bored.
"Done yet? I have to go."
Arthur slouched forward, shuffling toward the door like a zombie, eyes on the floor, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
He stepped outside the police station.
Sunlight hit his face, and he squinted.
When he opened his eyes, he saw a man standing next to a black car.
It was Agent Jimmy.
He waved at Arthur, smiling, a smile that hid more than it revealed.
Arthur's expression changed instantly.
Jimmy approached him.
He opened the car door.
"Get in."
Arthur climbed in, followed by Jimmy, who closed the door behind him.
They sat in silence for a few seconds.
Jimmy looked at Arthur, incredulous that such a cowardly man had just shot someone. But that man had been sleeping with his wife… and that was another matter entirely.
Jimmy smirked wickedly.
"Don't worry. You've been released. I made some calls here and there."
He continued:
"I told them Arthur is an important agent at headquarters. If he goes to jail, who will take care of his daughter? We need him for a classified case… and they agreed."
He clapped his hands twice in front of Arthur's face.
"You with us?"
Arthur hated this situation… and hated himself too.
He knew that getting out of this mess wasn't free.
"Why me? There are so many better than me," he said wearily.
Jimmy smiled.
"You're the right fit for this mission. That's all."
Then he asked:
"So… can I take that as your agreement?"
Arthur exhaled deeply, nodding in agreement.
Jimmy smiled.
"I'll take you home."
He started the car, then suddenly said,
"Ah, yes… by the way, that man didn't die. He's still in the hospital. They said he'll live."
He glanced at Arthur, popping a piece of gum into his mouth.
"Tip… next time, aim for the forehead directly."
He pointed to his own forehead, smiling.
Arthur didn't respond.
He had learned the lesson well.
He had been manipulated… his weakness exploited: his daughter.
It had been a long, harsh day.
The next day at headquarters, Arthur sat in Jimmy's office. Fatigue was etched across his face; his eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, hair messy, but he didn't care.
Jimmy placed the crucial items for the mission on the desk: Arthur's new identity.
Arthur looked at it.
Lucas Bell.
That was his new name.
Arthur liked it slightly; it suited a gangster.
(Who cares… it won't save me from death.)
Jimmy said,
"As you can see, Lucas Bell. Thirty years old. You lived in Canada before, and now you've entered the U.S."
He tossed a photo onto the desk.
It was of a bald man, short, heavily built, with violent Italian features. Two of his front teeth were gold.
Jimmy said,
"This is Porsche Menz, one of the Big Three in the organization. As you can see, he's very dangerous… and one of your targets, you and Michael."
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"The Big Three?"
Jimmy smiled.
"Oh yes… the Big Three. The three strongest people in the organization after the leader."
He continued,
"Porsche is the only one we have a photo of, because he doesn't care much about caution. He's been arrested multiple times, yet always gets out."
He sighed, then said,
"As for the other two, we don't know what they look like. All we know is one is a man… and the other is a woman."
Jimmy thought to himself,
(Why am I explaining all this when he's probably going to die?)
Then he smiled.
"Listen, Arthur. I know it's tough, but we've got your back. All you have to do is identify the other two members of the Big Three and gather some evidence here and there."
He added,
"Capturing the leader is extremely difficult, so we want to take down the Big Three first. That will weaken the organization, and who knows… maybe one of them knows the leader's identity."
Arthur rubbed his head, trying to process everything.
The little hope he had… disappeared.
He looked at Jimmy with empty eyes.
"What are the chances of failure? Just tell me the truth. I've reached a point where I can't back out, even if I wanted to."
Jimmy sat, crossing his legs.
He smiled inwardly, then spoke with a tone that sounded almost sad:
"The truth? Ninety percent chance of failure."
Seeing the desperation on Arthur's face, Jimmy felt a wicked satisfaction.
(Oh… I really want to take a picture of his face right now and hang it at home.)
He continued,
"But you have to understand something. Taking on this mission is a big deal. If you succeed, you'll become a hero. Maybe the White House… maybe you'll rise three ranks at once. There are people who spend their whole lives chasing that."
Jimmy's words affected Arthur slightly.
His expression softened, as if a heavy burden had lifted.
He sat, thinking.
(Why am I giving up so easily? I have to try. Michael's with me… I'm not alone.)
He looked at Jimmy firmly.
"Alright. What's done is done. I'll do my best."
Jimmy smiled.
"Good."
Then he began explaining:
"Your mission is as follows: You and Michael will infiltrate the Baroque Organization. Blend in, do whatever it takes to gain their trust. Then start climbing the ranks and meet those at the top."
He continued,
"Gather evidence gradually."
He paused, then said,
"Every Sunday, go to Spring Café. In the last restroom, there's a meeting spot. I'll place a way to pass the information there."
He added seriously,
"But not before at least two weeks have passed."
Then he continued,
"And do not contact your families or loved ones. Forbidden. Tell them you traveled for work… any excuse."
He added,
"And if anything happens to you… we'll take care of them. I promise."
Arthur listened to every word, but he was uneasy.
He asked slowly,
"If I die… you'll tell my family, right? I don't want my daughter to think I ran away."
Jimmy looked at him sharply.
"Yes. We will."
Arthur stood, gathering the important items, and headed toward the door.
Jimmy watched him leave.
Thinking to himself,
(Sorry, Arthur… you're just an ant in a big plan being woven in secret.)
Then he smiled wickedly.
"Hehehe."