Ch.100Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

I looked at the object Leoni handed me.

“…I won’t ask where you got this from.”

Silence settled between our seats.

I stared at Leoni sitting across from me, while she gazed out the window with an expressionless face.

In the awkward silence where not even breathing could be heard.

I finally managed to open my mouth and ask her.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

In my hand was a thin piece of paper.

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

By the time I gathered a few tools and got into the vehicle, the clock was already pointing to midnight.

I drove the vehicle out of the hotel parking lot with my right hand.

“Where did you get this car?”

“It’s a ghost car.”

“What?!”

On a quiet road. The ghost vehicle sped down the sparsely traveled roads of the Magic Tower district.

While turning the steering wheel with my perfectly functional right hand, I answered Pippin’s question.

“It’s a car registered under a false name. Don’t worry about being tracked since I used a forged passport.”

“Where did you get a forged passport? We didn’t receive anything like that.”

“The support department made a few for me to use before entering the country. They’re registered under names of unclaimed deceased persons, so there’s no risk of being tracked. I brought them in a diplomatic pouch, so they didn’t get caught at immigration.”

To be precise, it wasn’t an unclaimed deceased person, but a passport belonging to a Kashuvian man who had died while traveling to Abas.

“Actually, I have more. Kashuvia, Korba, Kiyen Empire, Fatalia…”

Typically, when making forged passports under foreign names, you either obtain passports through various excuses to steal information, or copy lost passports during someone’s stay. Sometimes they’re even made using the identities of deceased people.

Until the 1980s, the commies from the Reconnaissance Bureau, Intelligence Investigation Bureau, and Operations Bureau used to infiltrate using forged resident registration cards under the names of South Korean citizens whose deaths hadn’t been reported.

I used a different forged passport when I booked the hotel room under a false name. Of course, it’s been burned to ashes by now.

At times like this, it’s quite convenient that this area hasn’t computerized its administrative processes. Do you know how troublesome and difficult it is to infiltrate using stolen passports?

Anyway.

“Hey, Jake! Are you in contact with the staff?”

Jake, who was operating multiple terminals in the back seat, answered.

“I’ve called the intelligence team. But the other staff members say they’re too far away to come. I told them to start heading out, but…”

“Tell the staff waiting at the safe house not to move. When will they get here?”

All the 73rd Project Unit staff, except for the human intelligence team, were disguised as a civilian market research team.

Since they were posing as a market research team, they had set up their base in a neighborhood where many white-collar workers lived, which was quite far from here, making it impossible for them to come right away.

Pippin, who was flipping through a list of travel agency addresses, spoke up. Her hair was bouncing up and down, probably due to my rough driving.

“I’ve texted all the addresses.”

“Tell the intelligence team to search the nearest offices first.”

“Yes.”

Pippin tapped on her phone to send the message. She put down the phone and began examining the surrounding buildings through the window.

“We need to find out if any of those travel agency offices are front offices. So tell them to search thoroughly.”

“Got it.”

That’s when it happened.

Pippin looked at a particular building and pointed in that direction.

“Turn right here. Oh, there! That red brick building with the white sign!”

“Where?”

“Next to the blue car, in the direction I’m pointing!”

I turned the steering wheel following Pippin’s finger.

Screeeeech!

The ghost car left skid marks on the road as it headed toward our destination.

*

When I suggested we search the offices right away, Pippin and Jake argued that searching six offices in one night was impossible.

To cut to the conclusion,

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t impossible after all.

I was keeping watch at the bottom of the stairs when I looked at Jake and smirked.

“See? It can be done.”

“…Well, that’s not really the issue here.”

“Shut up. Complaining about moving at dawn…”

I leaned against the railing and stuck my right hand in my pocket.

“Report.”

Jake began his report as he removed his gloves.

We had just finished thoroughly searching the second office.

“There’s nothing inside. No safe. No suspicious items.”

“Another dead end?”

“It seems so.”

Jake’s report after searching the office was incredibly brief. As I silently stared at him, Pippin came out into the hallway and locked the office door.

Just in case, I asked Pippin a question.

“Nothing inside? Not even documents or photos?”

“It’s completely clean. Nothing but ordinary stuff.”

Pippin answered wearily, her voice so lifeless it drained the energy from anyone listening.

We’ve searched two offices so far, and both were dead ends.

I wasn’t sure if we were just unlucky or if we were missing something. Clicking my tongue, I got into the ghost car.

“…Did the intelligence team find anything?”

Turning around in the driver’s seat, I saw Jake in the back shaking his head.

“They say they found nothing.”

“…Really?”

“They moved before us and searched two locations, but they haven’t found anything yet.”

I looked at Pippin sitting next to Jake.

“Give me the list.”

Taking the list of travel agency office addresses, I rested my arm on the steering wheel and examined it slowly.

I spent a long time looking at the documents, lost in thought.

The world was shrouded in pitch-black darkness and silence. The roads, where even the occasional car had disappeared, were quiet, and the streets without pedestrians were still. The only sound occasionally heard was the hissing of a cat that had encountered a fairy while rummaging through a garbage can.

In a corner untouched by streetlight. Using the bluish light from the secure terminal as my lamp, I silently studied the documents.

In the midst of this, something suspicious caught my eye. It was around 1 o’clock when the clock hands pointed to that time.

“…Hey, why has this office changed its address so many times?”

An office located at the very end of the document. An office that had changed its address five times.

Something seemed off.

“Hmm… this is suspicious.”

“What is it, sir?”

Jake, who was maintaining contact with the intelligence team, asked.

I flipped the document back and showed it to him.

“This one changed its address five times. All the others only moved once or twice. Travel agencies don’t usually change locations that often, do they?”

“…So it’s a front office?”

“That’s what I think.”

There was no need to overthink it. I drove the ghost car out of the alley toward the suspicious office.

Meanwhile, Jake ordered the human intelligence team to stake out nearby, and Pippin guided the way with documents and maps in hand. A human navigation system.

After parking the car near the office, Pippin and Jake kept watch while I climbed over the fence and entered the building where the office was located.

What followed was, well, pretty standard.

I checked if the lights were on from outside, used a hand mirror to see if anyone was inside, then picked the lock and entered.

I secured photos placed on walls or desks. Since stealing them would raise suspicions later, I took pictures as evidence instead.

Like a journalist chasing a scoop, I wandered around with a camera. After roaming around for a while, I discovered something suspicious in the innermost office.

“…A safe?”

It was indeed a safe.

I stood in front of the safe, lost in thought for a moment.

Travel agency offices often have safes to store passports. They typically store their clients’ passports this way.

Of course, due to safety negligence, some keep them in desk drawers instead of safes. That’s why you occasionally see news about travel agency safes being robbed in downtown Seoul, and why the police sometimes issue official notices urging agencies to store passports in safes.

But,

As far as I knew, travel agencies in this area didn’t store passports like that.

Sure enough, when I opened the desk drawer, a pile of colorful passports spilled out.

So what could be inside that safe?

“……”

I changed the flashlight to ultraviolet light, collected fingerprints, and then combined the numbers to open the safe.

What was inside the safe was a very familiar object.

I took out the gun placed between passports and documents.

“…Hmm.”

It was exactly the same item I had seen at the church before.

An Imperial military standard-issue pistol.

*

A gun was found in the travel agency office. An Imperial military standard-issue pistol.

The passports in the safe were forged, with similar photos but different nationalities and names. The documents were unremarkable lists filled with unfamiliar names.

I photographed the passports and documents, restored the scene to its original state, and left.

“Develop the photos and send everything to headquarters.”

“Yes.”

I handed the film to Pippin and buried myself in the back seat of the car.

Working in the field at 2 AM was truly exhausting.

Pippin sat in the passenger seat and reported the end of the operation on her secure terminal.

“There are license plates in the trunk, let’s change them on the way.”

“Where did you get those license plates from?”

“Money.”

I adjusted myself into a more comfortable position and muttered.

“Bought them cheap from a fence.”

After all, this was a car contracted under a false name, and the license plates in the trunk were stolen.

There was no risk of being tracked, even if I died and came back to life.

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“And espionage is legal?”

On the way back to the hotel, we exchanged light banter as we crossed the deserted road.

Pippin said:

“So it’s definitely an Imperial intelligence front office, but what are you planning to do?”

“About what?”

“I’m asking if you have a plan.”

A plan?

“Of course I do.”

I showed her the phone in my hand. A prepaid phone contracted under a false name.

“One text message is all it takes. Whether it’s Fabio Verati or an Imperial spy.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll find out later. For now, take this.”

I handed Pippin a container. She held it up to the streetlight.

“…Cellophane tape? Fingerprints?”

What are you going to do with this?

Ignoring Pippin’s questioning gaze, I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket.

Fabio Verati’s business card.

“……”

I held the card in my hand, thinking about its origin.

[…This is a gift? It’s just a business card.]

[It’s not just any business card. You know this person.]

[Yes, I do. Fabio Verati. But I don’t understand why you’re giving me this as a gift, Director. I already have his card.]

[Look at the back.]

[What is this phone number?]

[Your target’s work phone number. It’s for internal use.]

[…I won’t ask where you got this from.]

I flipped the card over and opened the prepaid phone.

“…Let’s end this now.”

Finally, I could see the end.

*

“…Is that him?”

In response to my question, the Special Activities Division staff member with binoculars answered.

“I think so, sir.”

“Yeah, that’s him. Get ready to pull over next to him.”

I pulled up my scarf and pushed my hat down low.

The van quickly changed lanes to move closer to the sidewalk, and the Special Activities Division staff member promptly opened the door.

I got out of the vehicle and approached the man wandering among pedestrians.

I recognized him immediately, having seen his face countless times.

“Fabio Verati?”

“…What? Who-“

WHACK-!

I struck Fabio Verati’s head with a baseball bat.

Hit in the head, Fabio Verati collapsed instantly, and passing pedestrians screamed and backed away.

But I paid no attention and struck Fabio Verati several more times before loading his unconscious body into the van.

“Go, go!”

As soon as I climbed into the van, the Special Activities Division staff member roughly stepped on the accelerator and drove off.

I pulled the curtain over the window and lowered my scarf as I ducked down.

“…Phew.”

I should have done this from the beginning.