14

14

         11 hours later

         Giuseppe walked into the building as he yawned. He just couldn’t sleep last night, even by listening to some lullabies – he had such a nasty feeling. He looked around the wide lobby, which has gotten crowded. However, he did notice that they were talking about one single thing…

         “Did you hear? Someone threw herself off the cross last night?”

         “I have, it’s on air last night.”

         “You worked overtime last night, didn’t you, John? Did you hear anything?”

         “No, but I was in the office! How can I hear anything?”

         Giuseppe grabbed the right shoulder of a young red haired man, who was talking to his friends. He quickly turned to Giuseppe in surprise, but forced out a smile as a junior should anyway.

         “G… good morning, Mr. Spencer…”

         “Are the police up to it?” he asked. Because, well, the process is…

1)    Seen by a civilian, or police, then police will look into it…

2)   Even if the civilian agreed to remain silent, the media are always able to sniff that ‘there’s something going on, let’s make it public’…

3)   And oh, well, it will be kind of troublesome, for everyone, sadly...

         And this time, I don’t need trouble, after what happened with the doll.

         “I… think so,” the young man answered with a grim smile. “Because, I heard Mr. Fuller reported it…”

         “…What?” Fred?

         Oh well, if he’s the one who saw it, I guess it’s better than anyone else seeing, since they can make speculations ‘MI-six is involved here!’. But…

         Well, since the press is always looking for trouble, I guess they’ll frame him for now.

         ...

         He sighed loudly and looked away, then he walked past the young man as he waved his hand.

         “Thanks for telling me that, young man,” he said. “I guess dear Mr. Fuller is the next one I should ask…”

~•~

         “We’re not the only ones who’re after whatever it is you lost.”

         “What?”

         “Are you afraid of betraying them more?”

         “Because I don’t know.”

         Frederich kept typing down something with high speed – he didn’t even look at what he was typing anymore.

         Is she hiding anything? Or is she…

         “Frederich…”

         He turned to the door, that was opening bit by bit, and he could see a silhouette standing behind the door. He turned back to the screen and continued typing, ignoring whoever was coming in.

         “You really reported it?”

         “Is it wrong?” he asked without turning to his guest. “The Mets are our associates. Telling them isn’t a crime, is it?”

         “No, no, no, it’s not that…”

         Giuseppe sighed as he closed back the door, letting darkness take over the room once again. He walked to the coffe machine sitting on a table not very far away from him and took a white mug.

         “Who is it?”

         Frederich kept typing for a while, half hoping that he wouldn’t have to answer that question, but he knew secretly and he has to answer it too…

         “Fred?”

         “…” Can I not answer?

         “Kyrie.”

         Giuseppe, who was pouring the coffe for himself, felt like his body has been frozen by General Winter. He turned to his friend, still not believing what he has just heard…

         But isn’t she…

         “You’re just dreaming, aren’t you?”
         “She smoke,” Frederich said. “She wore a black short coat, and a short blue dress. And she had a revolver.”

         “Revolver…”

         “A Taurus pocket revolver.”

         “…But…”

         Giuseppe put down the metal pitcher as he turned to Frederich, who was still typing.

         She should be dead. So why…

         “She said there’s a fourth company after the doll,” Frederich cut. “Okay, number one must be us. Number two, possibly Charles and his fellas. Number three, maybe the company she’s working for. And number four, who knows.”

         “Four? So many?”

         “I’ll check our fourth enemy,” he said. “I’ll set this up, so I can keep track of all public phones, all phone cafés, all IP adresses, all cellphone numbers, all registered numbers. So if you receive a suspicious call, I can see it from here, and quickly send someone there. Maybe Marquis, or…”

         “That’s violating privacy!”

         “Do you want to retrieve back your doll or not?” Frederich suddenly asked sharply. “If you do, this is the one and only way.”

~•~

         Moscow, 1234 hours

         “So everything is working as planned, is it…”

         Ivan listened to the voice from the other side of the phone as he kept looking around, afraid that someone would listen to what he was talking about with his friend. He then nodded a few times as he fished his pocket for more coins.

         “Do we have to work with those people?” he asked. “They won’t ruin the plan, will they?”

         “That’s what I’m worried about, but I’ll make sure it goes perfectly. So just continue your work. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

         “Nyet, I think. They’re not moving very much.”

         “But Merlin died. That’s a great progress.”

         “Glad to hear that.”

         “Call me if there’s something else. Let’s end the call here.”

         Ivan put the phone down and waited for a while, until the small screen next to the phone turned off. He then put the coin back into his pocket and when he was going to turn around..

         “Mind if you put that coin into the phone again, Mervich?”

         He stopped dead at his place, hearing the bass voice coming out from nowhere. He looked around him from the telephone box, which was made out of anti-bullet glass.

         “Who is…”

         “Just put it in.”

         He quickly recognized the voice, then he took out his coin out of his pocket again and put it next to the phone. He let silence took over for a while – he could really hear his heart beating, but he ignored it – his right hand moved to the back side of his body and grabbed something hard. He pulled it out, without being noticed of course, and smiled.

         “Isn’t stalking kind of impolite?”

         “I admit it is.” A brown haired middle-aged man appeared from nowhere and opened the door. Ivan kept calm – as least he looked like he was – and stepped back as the man aimed a gun at him. He forced out a smile as he rose both his hands.

         “But well, Mervich,” the older man said. “To give away your friends is much more impolite.”

         “…”

         “I said…” the man smiled and hit the hammer of his gun, causing a click. “Put the coin in.”

         “Of course.”

         Ivan took the coin he put next to the phone and put it into a small slot for coins, which was just a few millimetres from it. The older man smiled, then he stepped a step forward.

         “Now, call whoever it is you just called.”

         Ivan smiled aand prepared the hard thing, which he was holding behind his back, and shook his head. The older man’s expression changed – he was surely unhappy.

         “Do it.”

         “Nyet.”

         Suddenly Ican darted forward, aiming his knife at the old man, trying to kill him. However, he was slow – the older man has pulled his trigger before the knife even got into him.

         Ivan fell to the ground on his face, with blood splashing out from his left chest. He was still holding the knife in his right hand, as if he wasn’t going to let it go. The older man stepped into the phone booth and looked at the screen planted next to the phone, and sighed. There was nothing he could get from it, after all. He squatted and pulled the knife out from Ivan’s warm hand, then, he looked at the handle of it. There was a small, very small carving…

         S.M.

         He touched the young man’s neck for a few seconds – he could feel no pulse, no life. He then stepped out, and he stepped on the pool of blood deliberately, then he closed the door and walked away.

         Looks like I know who’s behind…