Ch.102Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

“…Director. Why are you giving this to me?”

“Is this your first time seeing agencies cooperate? With your experience, you should know how these things work. Why question it?”

“I’m not qualified to hear about ‘experience’ from someone who’s built their career in overseas operations. You know very well that the Royal Intelligence Service and Military Intelligence are always fighting over achievements, don’t you?”

“……”

“What do you want from me, really?”

A brief silence passed between them.

She turned her head to look at him for the first time, having been staring out the window.

The seasoned operative speaks to the younger one.

“I only want one thing from you.”

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

Few people realize that intelligence agencies maintain secret facilities around the world.

Safe houses, front offices, communication interception sites, and so on. Though they go by different names depending on their purpose and operation methods, they all exist for similar reasons. After all, supply only exists where there’s demand. It’s simple logic.

Among these numerous disguised facilities, some are operated specifically for interrogation and questioning.

People call them black sites.

The guests who visit include self-proclaimed revolutionaries, foreigners carrying multiple passports, locals who cooperate with those foreigners, and lowlife industrial spies.

The staff who receive them are employees of the company operating the facility. Occasionally, employees from foreign companies visit as well.

Regularly operating facilities are typically covered with the waterproof tarp of “military base,” while irregular ones operate from ships or commercial buildings. Most facilities known to the public fall into the former category.

The place I visited today clearly belonged to the latter.

“Welcome.”

“It’s been a while, Gordon. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well. Please come this way.”

I entered the disguised facility, guided by a counterintelligence officer.

The officer who came to greet me was the captain I had seen at the research institute before.

Captain Aaron Gordon, wearing only a shirt with his jacket removed, opened a thick steel door and began speaking.

“As you requested, the interrogation preparations are complete.”

“Is that so?”

I followed Captain Aaron Gordon down concrete stairs. We were heading underground.

The art center I used to visit frequently was an above-ground building, but this facility seemed to be underground.

We chatted about various things as we descended the stairs.

“Is Number 51’s head okay? I hit him pretty hard when I knocked him out.”

“I’ve been worried about that too. We’ve administered a potion, but…”

“But what?”

“He might have suffered brain damage. It doesn’t seem serious, but we’re hesitant to intervene immediately. And we’re short on time.”

He says Fabio might have a head injury.

That’s entirely possible after taking a baseball bat to the head and falling face-first onto the pavement. Unless he’s some half-baked magician who wraps his body in magical energy, special training doesn’t make your brain any tougher.

Intelligence agents are human too. They eat when hungry, sleep when tired, and curse when things go to shit. That’s how everyone lives.

“…Hmm.”

“Has there been any specific directive from above?”

“We haven’t been pressured yet since we just started, but the higher-ups are quite concerned. There’s the Imperial issue… and the allied nations issue…”

“This is quite burdensome. I just want to finish quickly.”

I nodded as I listened to the captain’s concerns.

“Have you interrogated him yet?”

“You’re the first, Section Chief.”

That means they haven’t started yet.

“Well then, let’s take our time. There’s no rush. I’m just here to talk, so let everyone rest a bit before we begin the investigation.”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain ran ahead to the end of the corridor and opened wide a half-open steel door.

“We’ve arrived.”

*

The mission of Unit 73 was to track down the superiors of the spy who had infiltrated the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute.

In the process, they kidnapped Fabio Verati’s youngest daughter, made contact with a National Security Agency investigator disguised as a press correspondent, and engaged in armed conflict with the Imperial military intelligence agency, the Reconnaissance Command.

Blood was spilled.

Two foreign military-trained bodyguards protecting Fabio Verati’s youngest daughter. Five special operatives from the Reconnaissance Command who raided the hotel. Seven in total.

I could offer excuses about the lethality of the leaked classified information, the necessity of recovery, violation of the Nastasiya Treaty, ensuring the safe return of staff, protecting my own life, and unavoidable sacrifices for successful mission completion. But I’ll just be honest.

I killed seven people.

There’s no room for defense, and I have no desire to make excuses. Only murderers and terrorists trying to reduce their sentences argue about the purpose and reason for killing. If you killed someone, you killed someone. There’s nothing noble about it.

Anyway, I killed people.

The important part isn’t “why” I killed them, but “where” I killed them. And now I’m at the Magic Tower.

Why am I at the Magic Tower? To catch a spy. Specifically, a sorcerer spy who infiltrated the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute.

If you ask who sent that spy, I have nothing to say. I truly don’t know.

The spy who infiltrated the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute stole Giada Bianchi’s identity and used it to infiltrate the institute while posing as her. To clarify, this identity theft happened “before” entering the institute, not “after” being hired.

Investigation revealed that the spy posing as Giada Bianchi was a sorcerer. Currently, they’re being interrogated at a Military Intelligence facility. The real Giada Bianchi remains missing.

In other words,

The answer to all questions comes down to “where did Giada Bianchi disappear?”

Military Intelligence found a clue in official documents related to state-sponsored study at the Magic Tower. After graduating university, Giada Bianchi left for the Magic Tower on a government scholarship. And she disappeared there.

And.

According to information provided by the Royal Intelligence Service during their investigation of an unauthorized communication security incident.

There was only one person at the Magic Tower who had a deep relationship with Giada Bianchi.

“It’s been a while, Mr. Fabio Verati.”

“……”

Fabio Verati.

“Did you sleep well?”

“…Are you insane?”

He glared at me. Handcuffs were on his wrists, chained to the center of the metal desk.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you not realize what you’ve done?”

“Well…”

I approached the interrogation table with a cheerful smile.

“What I’ve done isn’t important. Why does the past matter so much? What’s important is what we’re going to do next.”

“……”

“Do you know who I am?”

No answer came. Without losing my smile, I placed my disguise bag on the interrogation table.

Bright lights illuminated the interrogation room, which contained only powered-off magical recording devices and stands.

An interrogation room with no investigators or detectives. Except for the staff operating the recorder behind the magic mirror, no one was watching what happened inside.

I checked my wristwatch to roughly gauge the time, then looked at Fabio Verati.

“Do you know what this place is?”

“……”

“Exercising your right to remain silent won’t help. This isn’t a law enforcement agency. You know that well, don’t you?”

I left him glaring silently and opened my bag.

“Well… before getting to the main point, let me add some lengthy personal comments. I like talking. You must be bored, so take a look at this.”

Thud.

A document dropped in front of Fabio Verati.

I could see Fabio Verati’s face, looking at least ten years younger than now.

“These are your old personnel evaluation records.”

“……”

“Foreign Counterintelligence Office, Intelligence Officer stationed at the Magic Tower. This is a recent record and your official cover… You originally worked in the Moritani region, but judging by the lack of Foreign Ministry documents, I’m guessing you had unofficial cover then.”

“……”

“Are you going to keep silent? It feels a bit like I might develop a mental illness if I keep talking to myself.”

“……”

“Well, if you don’t want to play with me, you can just listen.”

I opened the National Security Agency personnel records so he could read them easily.

Then I took off my jacket, hung it on the chair, and rolled up my shirt sleeves.

By the time I finished rolling up my sleeves, my eyes met Fabio Verati’s.

“I’m not going to torture you, so don’t look at me like that. You’re hurting my feelings.”

“……”

Fabio Verati didn’t answer. I met his gaze and looked into his inner self.

Thanks to the lights being off and no spotlight on his face, we could look directly into each other’s eyes.

His eyes weren’t wavering yet. His pupils were normal too.

He doesn’t seem to be feeling anxious.

In the bright interrogation room, alone with him, I paced in front of the desk and began speaking.

“Being from the National Security Agency, you must have received some training? Survival, psychological warfare, torture resistance, interrogation response principles, and so on.”

“……”

“Every intelligence agency does that… Anyway, I’m from Military Intelligence. You know that a defense attaché is nominally part of the diplomatic mission but actually belongs to an intelligence unit, right? You were an intelligence officer after all.”

“……”

“But.”

I put my hands in my pockets and looked at Fabio Verati.

“As you well know, when intelligence agents are captured, they’re tortured almost a hundred percent of the time. Why do they do that to trained people like you? The counterintelligence agencies know perfectly well that tortured people won’t talk easily.”

“……”

The answer is simple.

Because they can’t endure it.

“Resisting torture isn’t as easy as it sounds. Both the torturer and the victim know this.”

“……”

“So typically, if you’re in the position of torturing someone, you have a specific target. Verbally, you demand they spill everything, but in reality, you’re only after specific information. Who did they meet, what did they do and where, who was their target, who are their superiors.”

“……”

“As you fumble through like that, the outline gradually becomes clear, like a puzzle. In a way, this is also a form of guided interrogation…”

“……”

“Honestly, I hate that. It takes too long.”

I flashed a bright smile.

In terms of showing no emotion, that was the inner self I wanted to show Fabio Verati.

“Some people say they can make someone confess their first sexual experience in 10 minutes with just a 500ml plastic bottle, but I can’t do that anymore. Won’t do it. Why bother with such troublesome things? It’s bad for mental health.”

“……”

“I’ve gone on a tangent, but anyway. What I want to say to our intelligence officer here is that we should avoid unnecessary strain and proceed smoothly. Smoothly.”

I sat down across from Fabio Verati. My mouth was still smiling, and my eyes were gently creased.

“If you cooperate sincerely, I’ll have you treated properly and released. I promise.”

I took out an intelligence document from the wide-open bag and kindly placed it in front of him.

Then I rested my interlocked hands on my knees.

“Now, where shall we begin?”

“……”

“Let’s start with the research institute.”