“Draco?”
“Yeah,” Sang said as she leaned over and began to scroll through the computer. “They tend to focus on the idea of the organization being some kind of collective. So, they wouldn’t call people ‘people’ at all—they’d call them…”
“Assets,” Frederick said. “Look!” A large list of names came up on the system. There were names, positions, and assignments.
“Holy crap!” Sang said as she pointed to one of the names. “It’s Senator Franklin!”
Frederick pulled up the profile and read over it. The assignments were simplistic. “Disrupt CIA investigation at all costs,” he read aloud.
“I knew it!” Sang said. “He’s the leak! No wonder he was in such a rush to end the program.”
“Yeah,” Frederick said. “Looks like your friend Kenwar’s on the list, too.”
Sang paused. Kenwar had risked everything to help them, and while he’d constantly tried to play both sides, it was clear that, in the end, he’d chosen the right side. Unless that had been the whole plan... “Bring it up,” she said as she took a deep breath.
“Kenwar is a rogue asset,” Yuri read. “Allow him to draw the investigation team back into the game, and then kill him.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Sang said. “We’ve already dealt with that.”
“There’s one more name on here that I recognize,” Yuri said. He paused and took a sharp breath. “It’s… Van.”
“That’s not funny,” Sang said. “Don’t mess with me like that.” Yuri pointed to the screen and shook his head.
“I’m not kidding around.”
Sang felt her heart stop as she glanced at the screen. Indeed, there was Van’s name. What did this mean? Yuri brought it up.
Sang read it aloud as a sickness rose up in her stomach. “Van is a potential asset. Shows strong leadership skills and intense love of the game. Coerced into joining the investigation team. Trusts the investigation team leader blindly. He has a very high chance of conversion, if we can offer him the right thing. Suggested course of action: allow him to survive as a contingency plan. Continue monitoring performance.”
“Well… I don’t wager to say that’s a good thing,” Frederick said, “but at least he’s not active.”
Sang said nothing. What was it about Van that made them believe he could be flipped to their side? She shivered. Her mind darted back to the fight against Lemuel. He clearly could have slaughtered Van at any time, but instead had chosen to toy with him. He probably would have spared Van, even if pushed to the brink. They’d gotten lucky in killing that creature.
“Well, the good news is that, with evidence of Senator Franklin being in collusion with a foreign terrorist syndicate, this gives me some serious leverage,” Frederick said. He stood and stuck his head out the door. “Someone grab me Agent Neil.”
“Neil?” Sang asked. “He’s alive?”
“Yeah, they found him and O’Hara drunk on cheap scotch in an apartment full of bodies,” Frederick replied. “I don’t have the constitution to tell you what the place looked like.”
“Oh, that was my apartment,” Sang said. “Dang it, and my scotch! I was saving it for a special occasion. And it wasn’t cheap! It was middle shelf.”
“Yeah, what?” Neil asked as he walked into the interrogation room. He was wearing sunglasses and holding an icepack against his head.
“Neil, it has come to my attention that we have a problem child,” Frederick said as he stood up.
“Neil, I’m so glad you’re alive!” Sang replied.
“Oh, hey, Sang. Glad to see you made it. Did that Van guy get shot? Cause I had money on him getting shot.”
“No, he wasn’t shot; he’s alive and incarcerated. Like Kenwar.”
Neil chuckled. “Good times, good times. So, what do you want, sir?”
“I need you and O’Hara to go pick up a package.”
“What kind of package?” Neil asked with a groan. “God, this hangover is killing me.”
“What’s your opinion on politicians?”
Neil grinned. “Say no more. Want me to bring the car battery, too?”
Frederick shook his head. “Not yet. We just want to talk to him.”
“Alright, that sounds like a plan,” Neil said. He looked at Sang. “Hey, I just want to let you know now that you should just find a new place to live. I really wouldn’t advise you going back to your old place. Ever.”
“Gee, thanks, Neil,” Sang said. “How’s O’Hara?”
“She’s fine. Somehow, she never gets hungover.”
“I meant is she okay?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Neil asked. He seemed utterly confused by Sang’s question.
“You know, because of all the… guys with guns? And the hitmen?”
“Oh, feh,” Neil laughed. “That wasn’t nearly as bad as that gasoline you called scotch. I mean, seriously, girl, I know you’re short, but you should be able to reach past the bottom shelf.”
And with that, he left, chuckling at his own joke.
“What the hell is wrong with that guy?” Sang asked.
Frederick shrugged. “In my line of work, you always want to keep a few psychos around; you just don’t want to keep them in close proximity to you. Hence, why those two are always doing the field work.”
Sang slumped her head on the desk. “After all this, I think I need some of that cheap-ass scotch.”
Van opened his eyes as the door to his cell slid open. This had been the first time in almost three days that he’d had more than a couple hours’ worth of sleep at a time, and it felt incredible.
“Wake up, sunshine,” Sang said. “It’s time to give your statement.”
Van glanced at Sang and gave a sigh of relief. He had been stuffed in the cell for the last two days and no one had given him so much as the time of day. His requests for a phone call, a lawyer, or even a decent meal had been ignored. He’d worried endlessly about Sang, but the moment he saw her, he felt all of his worries vanish.
“I’m so glad to see you’re okay!” Van said as he stood up and rushed to hug her. She hugged him back tightly.
“Ditto,” she said. “I didn’t think we were ever going to get out of that nightmare. I mean, first the game, and then that slaughterhouse.”
“What’s the situation? Are we going to prison forever? We gonna be shot in the back of the head in the desert? Are we on the news as world heroes?”
“None of the above,” Sang said. “Frederick’s back on our side. Neil and O’Hara are alive and working to help plug a leak. You’ve just got to give your statement before the FBI and CIA directors, and then we can get out of here.”
“What about Kenwar?” Van asked.
Sang glanced at the floor. “They wanted to keep him for interrogation. Said he would be a good asset because of everything he knew. But, uh, I might have left a key for him in his meatloaf.”
“You let him go?” Van asked.
“He could have betrayed us, but he didn’t. As far as I’m concerned, we owe him. Come on,” Sang said as she waved at Van. “We’ve got a lot to discuss with the government.”
The holding cells were fairly empty. There wasn’t even a guard at the door. And Van wasn’t quite sure where they were, but he knew it was probably some undisclosed warehouse in the middle of nowhere. They walked together, side by side, in silence.
“Van,” Sang said. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah,” Van quietly replied. “I know.”
“What happened back there… the whole thing. That was a jungle, and I did some terrible things. I’m not proud of them, Van. I don’t know how you could ever look at me as a good person after you saw what I did.”
“Do you regret your choices?” Van asked. The question elicited a sharp breath from Sang.
“I don’t think I do. It’s a war, Van. And I know you don’t want to face the painful fact that people will die in this war, but you’ve got to. I want to do everything I can to minimize the damage to others; I want to try everything possible to avoid needless deaths. But at the same time, I’m a realist. People will die because of what we have been doing.”