16

16

         Abigail sighed loudly as she sipped some coffee from a white mug. Sitting behind her was Frederich, who seemed to be typing something very seriously so that he forgot to see what he has typed in.

         “My, my, this is bad, isn’t it,” she said with a loud sigh. “I mean, look at us. Four hours of interrogation, and nothing useful got. Not even a name, not even any number…”

         “But well, you did get something,” he said without looking up. “That’s not bad.”

         “We got nothing useful for you,” she said. “So we’re literally stuck.”

         “Not really.”

         “Well, being too positive isn’t good sometimes,” she said as she turned to him with a pessimistic smile. “Maybe we should wait for the next call?”

         She heard no answer. She sipped more of her coffee, expecting an answer when she was done drinking, but there was none. She turned to him, only to see that he was typing something very seriously and didn’t even look at her.

         Okay, this is getting awkward. He acts as if I’m not here. What should I do to make him talk to me?

         “About that woman who committed suicide…”

         She could hear the ticking voice from his keyboard slowed down a bit, before then it returned back to its normal pace. She turned to him – he still wasn’t looking at her, sadly – and sipped more coffee.

         “Someone you know?”

         “She was an agent,” he answered without turning to her. “Was, okay? And we were in the same group.”

         “Why would she kill herself?”

         “Who knows.” She glanced at him and noticed that the blue eye hidden behind thick myopia glasses saddened a bit. “She’s always full of surprises. Pleasant and unpleasant ones.”

         “I don’t think this is categorized as pleasant.”

         “Of course not.”

         She looked at him – he was still typing at his normal pace, although she could clearly see the sadness hidden in his eyes.

         It must be painful…

         “Were you two… close?”

         “I don’t know.” A new screen appeared, and he turned to it. “She tried to kill me once. Then, she ran, and since then I’ve lived, believing that she’s dead. But…”

         “Let’s meet in the afterlife.”

         “She wasn’t. And now she is.”

         “I see…”

         “W… where’s Vladimir? And Daniel? Were they alright?”

         “I… I don’t know. I was told to take care of Mira…”

         “Well…” Frederich forced out a smile, but what got out was just a grim smile, and turned to Abigail – finally. “She told me something interesting.”

         “Which is?”

         “There are two more sides after the doll,” he said as he continued typing. “I’m trying to find out if she’s working for one of them or not…”

         “And?”

         “I believe this is her.” He pointed out to a screen, where there was the picture of a woman with short black hair taken from the front, the back, and the sides. “Coming as a tourist under the name of Merlin Dwinov. And coming with her was these two…”

         He pointed to another screen, then to another, as she walked to his side of the table to see the screens.

         “Julia Hopkins.” There was a picture of a woman with long, blonde wavy hair, taken from the four sides. “And there’s this one.” He pointed to another screen, where there were four pictures of a man with black long hair. “Dave Ivory. However, I think Julia is the most interesting…”

         “Why is that?”

         “Her records show that she was born in Russia,” he said. “Well, it might be fake, but Merlin, in her fake documents, is, too. While Dave is born in Norway. So Merlin and Julia, must be quite close, even if it’s just in the documents.”

         “Let’s meet them then.” Suddenly she felt ecstatic, knowing that another door has opened when one was closed. “Where do they stay?”

         “It’s going to take a while to find,” he said as he typed something. A few minutes later a new screen appeared, where here were a lot of rows with words on it.

         “This is all the tourists, currently here in London,” he said. “So sit back and let me find them, okay?”

         “You’re quite right, uh?” She asked with a smile. “We’re not really stuck.”

         “Now that you know that, being optimistic is always fine,” he said. “And well, if you feel thankful, help me stock my coffee, please.”

~•~

         Julia sipped some orange juice as she looked out of the restaurant’s windows. The sun was hanging in the blue, clear sky, and it was shining brightly, like typical summer suns. She then spooned some Caesar Salad into her mouth without looking at the bowl itself.

         Well, little did she know that she was being looked for…

         That day, a couple was coming to the reception table. The receptionist, who was on charge that day, was smiling to a couple that has came to her table that day.

         “Good afternoon,” she greeted. “How may I help you today? Have you booked any rooms?”

         “I’m looking for a friend,” a blonde man quickly answered. “She told me to come here during lunchtime. So… “

         “What’s his name, sir?” She quickly turned to the small screen planted on her desk without keeping her eyes off them. The man seemed to think for a while, trying to remember, then he smiled.

         Good, he remembered, or it will be tough for me to look him up…

         “It’s a she,” he said. “She’s quite close with my wife, and we’re glad to hear that she’s in London. Usually, she travels around to unexpected, dangerous places…”

         “It’s been quite a while since we met,” the woman quickly cut. “She told me last night she’s staying here, so I thought I’d give her a surprise visit. Her name is Julia Hopkins.”

         “Oh, Miss Hopkins…” The receptionist seemed to remember something. “I remember seeing her walking to the restaurant. It’s lunchtime, after all…”
         “Can we see her then?”

         “Of course.” The receptionist rose from her seat and walked out, leaving her friend inside. She then walked to the restaurant, leading the couple who was looking for their ‘friend’.

         She led them through the hotel hallway, where the floor was made of fine shiny marble, with a grand chandelier hanging on top. She turned to them, noticing that they were very silent, not even talking to each other.

         …Are they having any problems at home?
         But well, she’s not a marriage counsellor. She sighed silently as she kept walking as she decided to ignore them.

         The three of them finally arrived at a place inside the hotel, separated by low white fences, which was low enough for anyone to jump over except for elders. The receptionist them saw a woman with long, beautiful wavy blonde hair tied into a long ponytail sitting near a window, eating some Caesar salad and a plate of… whatever it was. She was the only customer who was sitting in the restaurant – the others must be busy sightseeing. She turned to the couple and smiled, then she walked away.

         “That one?”

         “Yeah.” Frederich looked at the blonde woman sitting near the window and suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu, as if he’s seen her before.

         “I’m sure.”

         “Stay here then,” she said as she walked past the fence. “I’ll do the talk. We’re both women, after all…”

         “No.” She turned to him, surprised. Usually men wouldn’t bother with women’s business, as they find it kind of… boring.

         “No, really, I’ll do the…”

         “I’m going with you,” he said. “That’s not a problem, or is it?”

         She looked at him for a while, as she thought – something is so strange. Usually he wouldn’t be interested, but this time…

         …Must be because of her.

         “Whatever.”

         Julia turned to look around her, and noticed a man and a woman walking to her. What made her so sure?

         Well, I’m the only one sitting here in this restaurant.

         She smiled and stood up to greet them when they were a few metres from her. The man looked at her with hateful eyes, while the woman seemed to be behaving normally.

         “Mr. Fuller.” She could only recognise the man. “And you’re…”

         “Abigail,” she said. “Just call me that. But may I know how you know Frederich?”

         “A friend told me,” she said. “I believe you’re here to talk about… third and fourth person.”

         Frederich quickly felt the suspicion rose in him. The woman he has just seen for… maybe thirty-seconds, has deduced why they’ve come. That was quite impossible, unless…

         “Who told you?”

         “A friend, I’ve told you,” she said with a smile. “Come sit down. Maybe we both do have something in common.”

         “Something in common...” Abigail could see Frederich's eyes angered and saddened at the same time, and for a second she wondered what kind of expression she had have on her face.
         Something in common, huh?
         “But Miss Hopkins,” Abigail cut, not willing to let any fight or debate broke.          “You why the two of us is here today. So...”
         “Let's talk about this peacefully.” Abigail could feel a wave of shock in her. The woman in front of her was smiling gently, so gentle that she had difficulty differing it from a true smile, even if her eyes were hiding cynism.
         But, how could she, possibly...
         How did she know?
         “You're lucky I'm one of the few person in... Well, what you call the third company or third person, who know about the fourth,” Julia said as she sat back. “Would you like to eat or drink something... Oh, sorry! Please, have a seat...”
         “Let's just finish this quickly!”
         Abigail turned to Frederich, surprised, as he slammed his fist on the thick wooden table. Usually, he wasn't like that, was he? Julia herself seemed to be quite used to that, as she was sipping more of her orange juice.
         “You have what I want,” he said, half-shouting. “So just bloody give it!”
         “I'm not going to deny my own possession,” Julia said calmly. “But I don't truly own it myself, since it's not under my care right now.”
         “Then, whose?”
         “Well, about that...” She smiled and turned to him with naughty eyes, like a kid's. But she wasn't a kid, so of course it wasn't just any normal prank...
         “Let's go see for ourselves,” she said. “So, don't you dare try to move without me joining. Or at least leave me bits of fun.”
         “...”
         Abigail turned to Frederich, trying to seek some opinion, but it didn't even need a word for her to know what he would say.
         He was looking at her with shiny, big eyes, like those eyes of a little girl asking for a new Hatsune Miku figurine.
         ...Well, he wants to finish whoever it is that caused Kyrie's death, surely.
         But, this Julia woman...
         She turned to Julia, who was looking at her with a fake, cunning smile, making her rethink about what should be better done.
         I don't think... I like her.
         Frederich, you must, too, right, but...
         Kyrie's death sure changed a lot of things.
         “Even if you say no now...” Abigail turned to her with a shocked expression, as if this woman in front of her could read minds. Julia sipped more juice and looked out of the window again, to the busy streets after lunchtime where people were going back to work.
         “We'll meet again, pretty soon,” she said without turning to them. “But, don't expect yourself to recognize me.”
                                                      ~•~
         RIIIIIIIING
         Giuseppe picked the ringing phone next to his left arm and put it close to his ear. He could then hear the voice of the friendly operator, asking him whether he wanted to accept the call or not. He said 'yes, ok, fine, from a public lane?' Well, not like he was expecting nobody...
         “Hey, nice to hear from you guys again," he greeted with a fake hospitality.          “How's it going over there?”
         “I heard you got one of us.”
         “And he mentioned something interesting,” he said. “Negotiation, trade, and things like that. So what do you want?”
         “...Tomorrow, 2300 hours. No weapons, no nothing. Send just one person and make sure I can verify he's one of your men. Just one. Any weapons, and you won't get what you've been spending your money for. I'll be waiting at the empty field near your office.”
         And so, the phone on the other side was hung up. Giuseppe smiled and turned to Alan, who was standing in front of his table. He had a worried look on his face — of course, at such a situation, who wouldn't? However, Giuseppe managed to keep the smile on his face.
         “Don't worry,” he said, full of confidence. “If we can't get what we want, then they can't, too.”
                                                      ~•~
         9 hours later
         Abigail was slicing some bananas when the phone rung very loudly. She stopped slicing, in fear that she would cut her own hand, and thought for a while as she stared at the ringing phone she could really reach at that time.
         But she didn't want to. Out of... Well, laziness maybe?
         ... Do I even have a choice?
         “What's wrong, Giuseppe?”
         “I don't know if this is good news or bad news,” Giuseppe said as he grabbed the metal bar next to him when the tube rushed away. He has just came home from work when he noticed there was no more food in the fridge and that his wife was in Glasgow to visit her sister, who just gave birth to her second son. So he had to go out and buy some food for himself, and he remembered that he had to phone his colleague when he was in the tube station.
         “They want to see us,” he said. “Tomorrow.”
         “And you want me to go.”
         “It's fine if you want to, but I think Marquis will do,” he said. The tube stopped and the electronic door opened, but he didn't leave. “Did you get anything from that woman?”
         “I decided to not work with her.” She suddenly heard her door being knocked, making her a bit confused. She wasn't even with cooking and with the call, and oh, there a guest came.
         “What? Why?”
         “I don't like her,” she said. That's a childish reason at times, but women's intuitions are the sharpest, no? “So tomorrow, right? Catch up with you tomorrow...”
         KNOCK KNOCK
         “Wait!” She put down her phone and quickly ran to the door with the knife in her left hand. She opened the door as she hid the knife behind her, then she smiled to the guest.
         “Good evening...”
         “I believe I was waiting for you to grab a knife or gun,” a red haired man with glasses said with a smile. “Right? You're always so careful...”
         “I thought it was someone else,” she said as she looked away in embarrassment. Of course, who wouldn't be embarrassed if he turned the knife to the wrong person...
         However, the red haired man smiled as he gave a paper bag to her. She put the knife into the bag, then she took the bag from him and opened the door wider to let him in, but he shook his head, confusing her.
         “Why? You've come this far — come in and have some tea.”
         “No, I was just visiting my friend. He lives around here,” he said. “ Then I remembered that you live here, too, so I thought I'd come give you a visit. But visiting empty-handedly isn't very good, so I bought a few things...”
         “My, really, you don't need too, really,” she said as she felt happy inside. Of course she was happy that someone has actually cared for her...  “But well, thanks.”
         Daniel looked at her for a while, half feeling sad inside him...
         I'll die after this. But...
         Well, being able to see her again, maybe I don't really mind after all.
         “I'm leaving then.”
         “Be careful,” she said. “Just come here if you need anything, or even if you just need someone to talk to.”
         “I will.” But maybe I won't need anything anymore...
         He forced out a smile and turned away as he waved his hand. He then walked a few steps away before turning back to look at her for the last time — she was, as well, looking at him, making the situation a bit awkward. They then whispered 'bye' again to each other, then she disappeared into her room and he walked out of the building, into the dark, night streets of London. He looked up to the sky — only half of the moon could be seen that night. He then walked and walked, into a darker, smaller street, where he was alone. People didn't take that way, as it was dark, and creepy, to some of them, and it didn't make the distance any closer, too.
         “Well, if you want to kill me,” he said as he turned to a dark alley in the street. “Don't kill me from the back.”
         “...Why?”
         Strange, isn't it? Most would prefer not to see who really killed them. That was why people executed at the guillotine didn't sit facing to the executor who would cut the rope, but to the people watching him die. And in the modern times, sometimes, the criminal would have his eyes covered before he was killed.
         “I want to see...” All his memories started to come back to him, from his childhood, where he had a friend called Harry, then how he met a beautiful girl on his first day in the agency, how he met amazing people when he was at work, he could even remember some of their quotes...
         Until that time, the first time he died...
         And he somehow, felt like a happy man.
         ...it should be enough.
         “Who you really are.”
                                                      ~•~
         “And so, we had one traitor taken care of.”
         Kalinka sipped some Shirley Temple from her glass as Charles played with the stem of the cherry the bartender has used as a garnish for his Rob Roy. He smiled and turned to her, who didn't seem to be interested. He sighed loudly and turned to the bartender, who had a desperate smile on his face.
         ... Is she even interested in anything?
         “So.” Maybe she'll be interested this time... “Why don't you come along tomorrow?”
         “Will I even be of any use?”
         “Of course,” he said as he touched her wavy hair lovingly. He could then recall some faint memories from a long, long time ago, and turned back to the bartender. “And well, I trust you, you know.”
         She looked at him, then she sighed loudly and put down her glass.
         “Whatever.”
         “Well, now that's Kalinka,” Charles said with a smile. “Come on, let's have a toast to wish ourselves good luck tomorrow.”