Augtober 11

     They had decided it would be best to stay in the bunker until the extent of the agents operations were determined. They had spent hours digging through data, but they had only found a few vague bits. Fortunately for Helena and Ingrid, they did manage to discover that the mysterious agents only knew a few rough details as to their identity; no one knew who they really were. After a few days, Fox had decided it would be fine to let them leave, on the condition that they remain in constant contact.

     Greg and Fox remained to try and determine the exact nature of the antediluvian structure, as well as try to get any possible leads as to the location of the central operation.

     “I’m glad to hear you managed to save the number, but I do have to ask-” “Don’t worry, I already lectured him on it.” Fox sighed in relief. They had enough trouble protecting themselves from the agents, much less civilians. Jessica continued, “I still remember all the flak I got for asking that one guy out, even though it was just for drinks.” Fox chuckled. Despite only having had voice communication for a short time, he’d still managed to convey disdain over text quite effectively. “Yes well, at the time there were only three of us. Even now, we can’t really afford to take risks.” Jessica pondered that for a few seconds. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun from time to time. I mean, everybody needs a break occasionally.” “You know as well as I do Ms. Ansi, that the numbers never stop coming.” Jessica made a very audible groan, followed by an exasperated sigh. “By the way, how do you get the numbers? I mean, even Alex couldn’t figure it out, and he’s the only one who managed to figure out who you were.”

     There was silence for quite a while, and for a second, Jessica thought the line had gone dead. “All you need to know is that which you already know. When we get a number, someone needs our help, and we don’t have much time to act when we get one. Speaking of which-” “You’ve got to be kidding.” Jessica interrupted, automatically reaching for a pad and paper. “Victoria Aimsworth. Her family moved to the city when she was twelve, and she graduated from the North American Coalition University, second in her class. She has a degree in economics, and works in stocks.” “Seems like we’ll get along well. Except, would it be too much to ask for Helena and Ingrid to take this one? I know their still trying to get back to normal, but I don’t think I’m ready to go back yet.” Fox responded carefully. “I understand that may not be your most favorite place, but why don’t you get Mr. Smith to assist? You two seem to be working together a lot anyway.” “I guess. But if he drops his weapon one more time, I swear- You do realize he’s only graduated early because of Greg, right?” “Yes well, they do say that the best way to learn is to do. And that the student is only as good as the teacher. Oh, got to go, good luck.”

     Fox hung up the line, and turned to look at Greg, who had just come through the door of the bunker. “That Jess?” Greg asked, taking off his jacket. “Indeed. It seems Gabriel is taking quite a liking to his jump start, though according to Ms. Ansi, in less ‘professional’ ways.” Greg merely raised an eyebrow, deciding to focus on their current assignment. “Well I talked to the local recon teams, but all anyone’s seen are smoke from campers and roaming tribes. Though one did say there was a false bomb threat few weeks back. Forced them to evacuate for hours.” “That might be our next lead. Given the resources we’ve seen in from these agents, there’s no telling what their capable of. You stay here and monitor the feeds in case anyone comes back.” “Where ya’ headin’ off to?” “I’ve got some business to take care of down south. It might help us determine the nature of these components.” Fox picked up the case from the floor, and put it on the desk. “And if the fragments turn out to be useless?” “Components, not fragments,” Fox corrected, “and even if that is the case, we might be still be able to use them as leverage in case we have another ‘encounter’ with the agents.” Fox got up, and gathered his coat and hat, before picking up the case and heading for the door. Greg stopped him on the way out, however. “By the way, I never thanked you for helping us find you and Gabriel.” Fox looked at Greg with a confused expression. “What do mean?” “When Alex kidnapped you both, and was going to- well, you know?” “I’m sorry, but I honestly don’t know what you mean.” Now it was Greg’s turn to be confused. “You mean, you weren’t behind the whole payphone thing?” “Goodbye, Mr. Wetzel.” Fox said, and left the bunker. “Strange.” Greg said to himself, and started to make himself dinner.

*****

     Greg woke up the next day to find a message displayed on the monitors in the bunker. The message read “VEHICLE DETECTED.” “Well that can’t be good.” He said to himself, and hurried over to the computer. He looked through the footage, and found what had triggered the message. A black SUV was driving through the woods. He couldn’t tell who was driving it, but he could make out where they were going. He checked the map, and swore. If they continued going the same direction, they were going to run into the bunker. He checked the time stamp, and was disheartened to find it was from 30 minutes ago.

     He looked frantically through the other feeds, trying to find where the vehicle had gone. As he was looking, he heard a vehicle approaching outside. Whoever it was, they seemed to have found the bunker. Quickly, he grabbed a shotgun off the rack by the bed, loaded it, and pointed it at the door. He readied his finger on the trigger, and prepared for a fight.

     “Hey, Wetzel, you still here?” Helena said as she stepped through the door. “Whoa, hey there, easy now.” Greg lowered the shotgun with a sigh of relief. “Sorry about that, but I had no idea it was you. You should have called first, scared me half to death.” “I did. Like ten times.” Greg looked at his data pad, and noticed he had eleven missed calls. “Well now, that’s embarrassing.”

     “Anyway, what are you doing here?” He asked Helena, putting the shotgun back on its rack. Helena sat down at the small kitchen table. “Well I managed to sort out all the diplomatic business, and Mantissa wanted to visit Old Canada.” “What are you doing here, then?” “Rounding up the last of our stuff.” She motioned to a small bag on the floor. “Is Fox around?” She said, looking around the small cramped space. “Actually no, he left yesterday.” Helena scratched her ear. “He’s really not the talkative type, is he?” “I thought you hated talk?” She gave Greg a dismissive look, and continued. “Anyway, I find it strange he knows everything about us, and yet we don’t know anything about him.” Greg felt the same way; the most he knew at this point was that his name was ‘Fox’ and that he was good with technology and shooting. Other than that, he was a complete mystery.

     “Actually, I have an idea. Do you mind monitoring the cams for me?” “Where are you going? I thought you had a job to.” Helena asked, almost accusatory. “Well, I got fired from it. And as for this one, you’re here now. I’m going to get some answers.” He rushed out the door. Helena looked around the bunker, wondering how she was going to find entertainment. She heard an engine start, and realized she left the keys in the car. She rushed outside, in time to see Greg driving away. “Hey, wait, how am I supposed to get back?” She shouted, running after the car, but after a few meters realized she wasn’t going to get far. She gave out a defeated sigh, and slowly walked back inside.

*******

     It had taken some work, but thankfully for Greg, the further south he went, the easier it became to track Fox. All he had to do was ask immigration, although occasionally it did involve some convincing.

He had managed to track Fox into the southern part of the coalition; Las Estrellas [The Stars] in the Province of Texas. Being back south, there were plenty of steam powered machines all around. When he was young, everything used to be powered by coal, but in recent years, other methods to heat the steam had been devised, such as liquid fuels or solar power. As a result, there had been quite a renaissance in the larger populated cities.

     As he walked down the main street, he realized how much he missed being in the north. Amid the tall buildings, the bustling streets made it hard to keep track of people. Combined with the fact there was no automated surveillance to speak of, or even electricity, Greg knew tracking Fox was going to be very difficult. He was about to hail a cab, when across the street he spotted Fox, walking with a crowd. He crossed the street quickly, making sure to remain a distance behind Fox.

     After a few blocks, Fox headed into a building. Unlike most other buildings, which were clad in brass and steel, this one was clad in a giant glass curtain, sticking up like a silver spire above the other buildings. In front of the building was a small courtyard, with a sign reading “F & B Technologies”. Greg was intrigued, and proceeded to follow suit.

***

     Inside the building, it was a completely different scene from the copper and steel city outside. The marble floor was pristine, and granite columns supported the floors above. People rushed in and out of the elevators, and there were secretaries directing people. There were screens displaying various things, as well as lights, making it clear that unlike everywhere else in the south, this place actually had electricity.

     Greg spotted Fox going into one of the elevators. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find out where he was going without revealing himself. After the doors closed, he approached the bank of elevators, and got in the closest empty one. He looked at the buttons, and saw there were almost sixty floors. “Well, this is going to be fun.” He said to himself, and pressed the first button.

***

     Twelve floors later, Greg finally caught a break. The floor he was on seemed to be some sort of business center, with cubicles filling the floor. On the far end of the room, he thought he managed to spot Fox’s head going down into one of the cubicles. At this point, Greg’s curiosity got the better of him, and he approached. He decided to keep the element of surprise, making sure to stay out of sight. He wasn’t the only one headed towards Fox however; A professionally dressed female elk was also moving in Fox’s direction. Greg saw a noticeboard nearby, and pretended to be looking at it. Luckily, he was close enough to overhear.

     “So, you managed to come in.” The elk said, “I see Shaun already got you set up.” “Yes, in fact he was very helpful.” Fox said, in an upbeat tone. “So, how long are you going to be evaluating us for?” “Not long, hopefully. Just long enough to make sure things are all in order.” “Well, if it isn’t, be sure to tell me. Oh- Talk to you later, Eliza, looks like I’m needed elsewhere.”

     After she left, Greg approached Fox’s desk. Fox didn’t seem to notice, enticed by whatever he was doing at his station. “Eliza, huh? I always figured you for a ‘Wolf’.” Greg said cheekily. Fox, somewhat startled, turned around in his chair. “Mr. Wetzel, what are you doing here?” “I could ask you the same question. Aren't you supposed to be investigating those fragments?” Fox turned back to his work, which appeared to be on a computer. “Components. Currently, what I’m doing here is of not much concern to anyone but myself. But since you insist, I’ll be sure to give you an update as soon as I find something. Now, if you’ll excuse me?” Fox said, quite eager to be left alone. Greg wouldn’t be dissuaded so easily.

     “You know, I grew up in the south. Last I knew, they didn’t build such fancy buildings. Know anything about that?” Fox simply huffed, and continued his work. Greg tried to get a peek, but he couldn’t understand most of what he saw. As far as he could tell, Fox was working on some sort of database or code. Fox must have noticed, because he stopped again. “Was there something you needed?” “What if I just want to talk?” Greg teased, trying to see how far he could push his luck. “I’m sure either Ms. Ansi or Mr. Smith would be more than happy to converse. Though, they may have trouble, seeing as they’re working on a number. Speaking of which, since your here-” Fox pulled out a piece of folded paper from his coat. He handed it to Greg, and promptly returned to his work. “Seriously?” Greg asked. “The numbers wait for no one, Mr. Wetzel. I was going to contract Ms. Cache’s help, but she seems to be preoccupied at the moment.” Reluctantly, Greg headed back towards the elevator, but not without talking to the elk. “Excuse me, do you need something?” She asked with a smile. “Yes, actually. I just need to ask you a few questions.” “I’m sorry, you are-” “Officer… Smith.” Greg said, and he pulled out a fake badge he had made awhile back. “Oh. Is there some sort of problem?” She asked, worried. “Not today. Just doing an investigation into a mister… Eliza.” He said, pretending to read the paper Fox gave him. “Is he in some sort of trouble?” She asked, folding her arms. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Now, it says here he’s an investigator…” “Yes, for the company. He makes sure that this branch is meeting all the corporate standards.” Greg nodded, and scribbled on his “notes”. “And how often does he come down?” “A couple times a year, maybe more. Whenever the main company thinks it’s needed, really. Officer, is this anything serious, should I go get him-” “No! Ahem, they'll be all actually, you were very helpful. And, actually, It’d be best if this just stayed between us. I’m sure you understand.” He said with a smile. “Of course! I’m happy I could help.” She perked up now, standing straight. “Well, I best let you get back to work.” With that, he headed back to the elevator, and began researching the new number.

*****

     It wasn’t too hard to find a hotel to stay in. The south had always been growing steadily, but in the past few years, things had been expanding quite a lot. Although he hadn’t spent much time in the city itself, he still remembered how it used to practically be just a few streets in the middle of the desert, as opposed to the sprawling metropolis it was now.

He walked out onto the roof, hoping to get a signal to his data pad. He managed to get a weak one, and promptly called Jessica.

     “Greg? It’s been awhile. I hope you’re not in trouble again.” Greg gave an amused huff, but was quick to get to the point. “No, not quite. Listen, I need your help, with a number.” “Yeah, okay. But why can’t Fox help you? He’s been more open to helping us do the research since we finally met.” “He’s… busy. The name is Karl Ciders, that’s all I managed to get. He lives in the downtown district of Las Estrellas.” “Wait, he lives in the south? What do you need me for, then?” “He used to live in the New York area, but then moved here. I’m hoping you can get more than I did.” There was a pause, which Greg could only guess was Jessica pondering.

     “Alright, I’ll see what I can do, but don’t get your hopes up. From the sounds of it, this guy wants to get off the grid.” “Well this would be a good place to do it.” Greg replied, “Damn buildings act like a, what’d ya call it, a Fahrenheit cage.” Jessica couldn’t help but laugh, immediately apologizing. “Sorry, but I couldn’t help it. Faraday cage, and yeah, it’ll happen when every single building is made of metal.” “Not every building…” Greg said, realizing that the F & B was literally the only building he had seen that was not encased in a brass shield. Anyway, thanks for your help.” “No problem.” “Oh- and how… how are you doing? Since Baud, well, you know...” Jessica sighed, but was glad Greg was finally talking about it. “I’m fine. We’re both fine. Mostly. But we’re getting better, day by day. And no, you don’t have to worry, if that’s what you’re asking.” “I just… I’ve helped many people Jess, but before you, they never really stuck around. I just want you to stay safe.” “Well I am. Honestly I’m surprised you acted the way you did, with your degree and all. And I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” There was a pause, and Greg was about to speak when Jessica stopped him. “Gotta go, Gabriel lost track of a number. Again.” She hung up, leaving Greg on the rooftop, wondering about what to do next.

*****

     Greg decided to try and pick up Fox’s trail again. He had managed to place a tracker in Fox’s pocket, but reception continued to be a problem. He decided to try his luck, and returned to the building. Fortunately for him, he appeared to still be present. He waited outside for a few minutes, and eventually saw Fox come out, briefcase in hand. There was a steam carriage waiting, and Greg was forced to hail a car of his own.

“Follow that carriage.” Greg told the driver as he got in the back. The driver looked back at him, “I don’t think so, son.” Greg hesitated, and held up a fifty piece in his hand. The driver raised his eyebrows, “Alright, fine. But if anyone asks, I wasn’t involved.” Greg nodded, and tossed him the shiny red and green coin. The driver shifted the carriage into drive, and the took off after the other vehicle, which was now a few blocks ahead.

***

     “Thanks again- uh, keep the change!” Greg stammered as he hurried to get out. They had followed Fox’s carriage to a run down area of town. Steam leaked out of the various pipes and valves that were lining the street. This area of town was still busy, but there was significantly a lot less people then there had been uptown. Greg had seen Fox disappear into what appeared to be a shop. He approached the storefront, and was relieved to see the front window was full of various different trinkets and gadgets. Most seemed typical of what you would find in the south, but occasionally throughout the display was a trinket from a different part of the country. In fact, Greg thought he could recognize a few items from one of the overseas countries, though he couldn’t recall which. As he went to go in through the door, he was amused by an old computer on display. Although the north was more readily adopting digital technology, the south remained firm on mechanical technology – to a fault.

     Once inside, Greg could smell the fumes from the bright gas lights. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the old familiar smell. On the inside, the little store was just as crowded as the display. There appeared to be different sections, as if the owner was trying to have some sort of organizational system. Although there were a few other customers, his attention immediately went over to Fox, who was talking to what looked like the owner. He moved over to a wall of display cases, and tried his best to hear the conversation.

“-been just fine so far. Though, the local folks don’t seem too keen with the new mayor.” The owner was a middle aged human male, definitely a tinkerer, Greg thought. He spoke with a much more defined southern accent than himself. “Heh heh, well I’m sure things will turn up eventually.” As Fox spoke, Greg couldn’t help but notice how at ease he seemed with this other gentleman. “I hope so,” said the owner, “but anyway, I doubt you came to visit me just to hear about politics.” “As a matter of fact, I was hoping you would take a look at some items I recently acquired. Although, if you wouldn’t mind, I feel as though it would be best for you to examine them in private.” “Of course, this way.” The owner gestured to the door behind him, through which the two of them promptly went through. Greg swore, but then remembered there was an ally directly next to the store. He went outside, and into the ally.

     He looked around for a vent on the building, near the floor. He found one, behind a large metal box. He leaned down, and saw a small, dimly lit room. Fox and his acquaintance were already inside, their backs to the vent. “So, you wanna make sure you weren't ripped off or somethin’?” The man asked, with a chuckle. Fox placed the briefcase on the workbench in front of them. “Actually, I was hoping you’d be able to help me determine the exact nature of these items.” The man gave out a long “Ah” in interest, and opened the case. When he did, however, his head shook, and he carefully picked up one of the items.

     He looked at Fox, clearly surprised by the contents. “Eliza, these are antediluvian. What in Yahweh’s name are you doing with these. Where’d they even come from?” “All you need to know is that these are very important. Now as far as I can tell, they’re components, for some kind of weapon.” “I’m sorry, Eliza, but as far as I can tell? While they do go together, I've never seen a weapon like what these are supposed to make. That’s all I can make out, anyway.” Fox sighed, and closed the case. “In any case, it was worth a try. Thank you for your assistance, David. I’ll leave you to your store now.” Fox picked up the case, and began to leave. Greg quickly moved away from the grate. He heard them talk a bit more, but figured it wasn’t important. He’d already heard everything he needed to.

     Before he could try to follow Fox again, his data pad buzzed. It was Jessica. “Go ahead.” He answered, as he moved further into the alley. “I got news on your number. Apparently, he used to be Justin Anderson until three weeks ago. I can’t find much else though. No criminal record, place of work; anything.” “Strange. And one day he just becomes a different person? Something had to have happened, try calling the local police stations. Maybe he got into something he shouldn’t of, and went into hiding.” “Will do boss. Speaking of-” Greg could picture Jessica leaning back in her chair, “Found anything interesting on Fox?” Greg checked to make sure no one was listening. “Followed him to an antique shop, he was askin’ about the fragments. Other than that, mainly just same old, same old.” “Well, if I find anything, I’ll let you know. In the meantime I’m sending you his current address. Jess out.”

***

     It hadn’t been hard finding the hotel. The shiny brass building towered among the surrounding stores. Greg entered the lobby, which was moderately decorated in pseudo Victorian furniture, velvet items lined the walls. He approached the front desk, a young coyote smiled, and waited eagerly. “What can I help you with today, sir.” Greg smiled, and pulled out the badge. “I’m looking for a Karl… Karl Ciders?” The secretary searched the various ledgers. “Ah yes, Karl Ciders, fifth floor, room 24. If you don’t mind me asking, what do you want him for?” Greg hesitated, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t provoke investigation. “Just… checking in on him before his hearing. Nothing too serious.” “Oh. Would you like someone to show you to the room?” “No, I think I have it.” He went to the old elevator, and pulled the lever to the fifth number.

***

     As he headed towards the room, he couldn’t help but notice the lavishness of the place. The velvet carpets and brass gas lamps, which shone a bright gold clearly were well kept. If Karl was running, he certainly had a lot of money to spend.

     He finally reached the door, and knocked three times. He waited, before looking both ways down the hall. Seeing no one, he pulled out his lock pick, and quickly opened the door.

     The inside of the room was very different from the rest of the hotel. Although the basic decor was the same, clothes and personal belongings were strewn all over the room. The bed was a mess, the night table drawers open, and the bedside oil lamp was on the floor, a damp oil stain still fresh on the floor.

THUMP! Greg heard someone in the bathroom. He instinctively drew his handgun, ready to fire if needed. The door was open, and the gaslight on. He heard footsteps, and raised his gun.

     A man in a suit rounded the corner, saw Greg, and drew his own weapon. “Who the hell are you?” He demanded, clearly anxious. Greg slowly moved a hand to his pocket, and held up the badge. “Officer Smith, who are you?” The stranger pulled out his own badge, but this was not a police officer’s badge. “Agent Chris Samson, ministry of defense.” They both lowered their weapons, now aware of each others authority.

     “What’s a police officer doing here?” Chris asked, now standing straight. Greg took a second, as the agent certainly didn’t seem to be an impostor. “Investigating a suspect in a murder case, Karl Ciders. Heard this was his room.” The agent’s face was expressionless, making difficult to determine what he might be thinking. “Seems we’re after the same person, then. I’ve been chasing this bastard from New York. Similar charges, a much larger scale.” “I assume this is your handiwork, then?” Greg said motioning to the room. “No, actually. Seems like one of the victims may also be on his trail.” “Then we’d better find him first.” The agent frowned. “Actually, officer, I have it from here. This investigation is officially out of your jurisdiction. I suggest you head back to your precinct.” Greg knew he couldn’t do much else, at least without exposing himself. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He headed out, but couldn’t shake the feeling something about the encounter had been off. Having nothing else he could do, he headed to the elevator, and headed down to the lobby.

***

     Greg wasn’t sure how to proceed next. In the past, he’d simply tell Fox the situation, and the agent would be gone. This time he had a feeling that Fox would be to busy to be able to do much, so he figured he’d have to find a way around himself. He checked his data-pad for the information Jessica had sent. According to the data, Karl was last employed at a small attorney business. He stepped out onto the sidewalk, and patiently waited for a cab.

     The attorney’s building was more or less like any of the surrounding buildings, although for a law practice it seemed to be uncharacteristically run down. There were no windows to speak of, and the metal plating was beginning to rust – an achievement in the desert.

     As he went in through the door, a small bell rang out. There was a small receptionist desk, stacks of paper piled up on top. The building itself was narrow, and seemed to be a re-purposed apartment. There was a staircase to the right, also covered in various stacks of paper.

     Greg walked up to the front desk. No one was there, in fact it seemed as if no one had been at the desk in quite a while. He looked around at the various papers, most of which seemed to be old court records.

“Can I help you, sir.” An elderly looking coyote asked, as he made his way down the stairs. Greg did his best to look official, again pulling out the badge. “Officer Smith, I’m here about an employee of yours, a Karl Ciders?” The coyote nodded in understanding, and proceeded to gesture Greg upwards. “Come upstairs then, son, we can talk better up here.”

     The upstairs wasn’t much of a difference to the downstairs. There was a hall with a few doors. The coyote lead Greg through the open door, into a large office, also crowded in stacks of papers. The desk was quite large, and quite old. The armchairs also seemed to be quite old, but also seemed to be quite comfortable. They both sat down, and Greg waited for the coyote.

     “Well. On with it. Aren’t you supposed to tell me what you’ve found out.” “Umm, what do mean?” “What have you found out? Is he missing or not? It’s been days since I filed the report.” Greg was taken aback by the sudden realization. He quickly checked his data-pad, and for the millionth time, cursed the reception of the south. He quickly searched for something to tell the coyote, “Why yes, we’ve… come closer to finding him.” “Ah, very good. I do hope you find him soon, we have a lot of cases to go through. If I may ask, how close are you to finding him?” “Uhh, really close sir, in fact, I believe I have a call right now.” He motioned to data pad, and stood up. “Oh well I suppose I mustn't keep you. Please, give me a call when you find him.” The coyote handed Greg a small business card. “Will do, sir.” Greg said, as he made his way out. He checked his data-pad for a signal, but unfortunately he still couldn’t get one.

     He eventually decided to head down to the police station. Fortunately for him, cops from the north were highly regarded in the south. He decided the best person to talk to in this situation would be the police chief.

     “To what do I owe the pleasure?” The clearly overweight man said. Greg wasn’t the most fit person himself, but compared to the chief, he may as well be the image of health. “Officer Gregory Smith, from NNYPD,” Greg stated, extending a hand. The police chief accepted the handshake, struggling to lean forward. “Well, officer smith, I'm Chief Winters, welcome to my precinct. What can I do for you?” Greg searched his data pad for a photo. “Missing persons, one Karl Ciders. Last I heard, he was staying in a hotel.” “Oh yeah, that guy.” Greg was taken aback. “You’ve seen him before?” The Chief pulled himself straight onto the chair. “Yeah, some MOD agent was here asking about him. Said it was a case of national security.” Greg puzzled a bit, unsure of what to make of the situation. “Quick question, do you happen to have missing persons reports for the past few days?” Winters nodded, “Talk to Melissa, she’ll help you out. Was that all?” “Yes, thank you sir.” “Then good luck with your investigation.”

     “Here are all the reports from last Monday to today.” The young deer said. “Let me know if I can be of any service.” “Thank you.” Greg said, and began looking over the reports.

     He found the file marked, “Ciders, Karl”. “The hell-” he said, as he looked inside, only to find it was empty. He called over Melissa, “Is there any reason a file would be empty?” She frowned. “Not that I know of. Unless someone lost the papers, but even then, normally they’d tell someone.” “Thank you.” Greg puzzled over the situation, and quickly came up with a theory. He left the station, and checked his signal.

     “Finally.” It was weak, but there. He called Jessica, and told her the situation. “Jess, you there?” “Yeah, what’s up?” “Listen, I need you to look up name, Chris Samson, Ministry of Defense.” There was a pause on the line, followed by an “ummm”. “Greg”, Jessica finally said, “What the hell do you want with a government agent?” “Look, this is going to sound crazy, but I have a good reason.” “Does that reason involve potentially exposing who we are and what we do to an agent from one of the most powerful government organizations?” “C’mon Jess. We’ve dealt with them before, and this relates to a number.” Jessica sighed, “I’ll have to tell Fox, he’s the only one who can get past their encryption. Greg, just- What the hell?” “Okay, look. If I’m right, then the number I'm on, Karl Ciders. You said he was on the run?” “Yeah, that was a possibility.” “Well at the hotel, this Samson guy comes out of nowhere. Now he said he was on Karl's trail, but-” “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Jessica said, with clear frustration in her voice. “I’m almost there, just...” “Fine. Go ahead.” “I think the agent’s gone off the books. I don’t know why, but I think Karl is definitely the victim here.” “All right, but if you’re wrong,” “I won’t be. Just get back to me as soon as you can. I’m going to track down the agent in the meantime.” He heard a small “for fu-” and the line going dead. He decided the best place to start was going back to the hotel.

     He made his way onto the floor the room was on. He paused at the door to try and see if there was anyone inside. Not hearing anything, he decided to go inside.

     The room was much as it had been when he had interrupted the government agent. Now alone, he was able to take a closer look at everything. It seemed the agent had already done a thorough search of the place before Greg had shown up. Despite that, Greg double checked everything, hoping to find something the agent had missed. He made his way around the room, searching the cabinets, vents, everywhere anything could be hidden. He mostly found an occasional paper, piece of garbage, and a lot of dust.

     After a good thirty minutes of exhaustive searching, he opened the window for some fresh air. That’s when he noticed the window latch was loose, as though someone had shut it in a hurry. “Hello. What do we have here?” Greg said to himself. He peeked out, but saw no way any human (or animal) could use the window as an entrance or exit. He looked to both sides, and noticed a paper stuck on the side of the building. Barely being able to reach it, he pulled it in, and looked it over. It was a receipt for a one way train ticket to La Cuidad de Los Reyes [The City of Kings]. As he was reading, his data pad buzzed.

      “Jessica?” He asked, as he answered the call. “Greg! Finally. Listen, I did some digging-” “What did you find?” “He’s mainly supposed to be looking into threats to national security-” “So Ciders is a threat?” Jessica sighed impatiently. “Just, please let me finish.” “Go ahead.” “I checked in with his superior, and he’s not supposed to be on a case right now. In fact, he took vacation leave around the same time Ciders disappeared. Now, here’s where it gets interesting. Alex talked to some of his old contacts in the police force-” “Wait, what?” “-and Anderson had previously tried to issue several restraining orders against Samson, but they where all dropped without reason.” “So he is going after Ciders for something personal.” “Yes. And whatever he’s planning, it can’t be good. You need to find Ciders, now!” Greg looked down at the receipt in his hand. “I think I have a lead. I’ll try to find Ciders. I need you to try and get whatever you can to put away Samson for good.” “I will. And Greg, be careful. We don’t know what Samson’s capable of.” “Don’t worry, he’s not going to get away with this.” He hung up, and headed to the train station.

*****

     The receipt had said the train was scheduled for the 12th at 5:30pm. It was 4:50 when he arrived, and he was awed by the station. Previously, it had consisted of a single platform, with not even a roof covering it. Now, it was a grand marvel, with room for at least six different trains at a time. The glass clad ceiling let the late afternoon sun shine through, illuminating the busy platforms below. Grand steam engines, of varying designs giving off steam shone in the light. He checked the ticket, which read PLATFORM:4, TRAIN: No. 6729. He realized, looking around at the enormous crowd that stood in front of him that this was going to take a while.

     “Jessica, not a good time!”, Greg shouted, as he hurried around on the platform. He glanced over at one of the wall mounted clocks, which read 5:10. Jessica continued anyway, “I think I found something, I managed to get a recording of a call between Samson and Ciders. From what I’ve heard so far-” “We’ll worry about that later.” He was now at the front of the train, near where people were begging to board. “Right now, I need to find Ciders before he boards the train. It’s the only way to be sure he’s safe.” “Does the station have cameras?” “No. South’s not like the north.” Greg said, but his gaze soon fell onto a stack of cargo loaded onto the train. “Although, you did give me an idea.” He moved towards the stack, climbing on top. “Hey, what are you doing?” Yelled a porter, which Greg simply ignored. “Send me the most recent picture of Ciders.” Greg said, starting to scan the crowd. “Hold on.” Jessica replied. A few seconds later, the picture popped up on Greg’s data pad. Ciders looked defeated in the image; Greg saw an adult human wearing a red hoodie, with unkempt black hair. Greg scanned around, occasionally checking the data pad. He finally managed to catch a glimpse of Ciders’ hoodie, who was halfway between the train and the entrance of the station. Greg quickly jumped down, still ignoring the shouts of the porters, and made his way towards Ciders.

     He came up behind Ciders, and showed his badge. “Mr. Ciders, I’m with the LEPD, I need to ask you a few questions.” Ciders tried to run away, but the dense crowd made it impossible. Greg quickly grabbed him, and pulled him in close. “I’d prefer it if you stay with me.” Ciders shot him an angry look, and said, “He’s not going to catch me. I’m not going to let him, so you may as well just give up.” Greg sighed, trying to find a way to defuse the situation. “Look, I know agent Samson is after you, but I don’t know why. Now, we can protect you, but you’re going to have to cooperate.” Ciders glared at him, but realized that either way, he wasn’t going to get on the train. “What does it matter anyway. I’m already as good as dead.” Greg pulled Ciders off towards the entrance, looking for a secure place to talk. Eventually, they passed a door labeled STAFF. Greg checked around, and pulled Ciders through the door.

     The room was a small janitorial closet, with cleaning supplies lining the shelves in the room. “Is this supposed to be your office?” Ciders asked, sarcastically. “Just, be quiet and listen. Now, if I'm going to protect you, I need to know why Samson is after you.” “Didn’t he tell you? I’m, ‘a threat to national security’.” Greg sighed, he clearly wasn’t going to get anywhere. At least not like this.

“Not going to get him to talk like that.” Jessica said. Greg forgot he’d left the line open. “Yeah, and what would you suggest?” He asked. “The hell are you talking about?” asked Ciders. Greg’s data-pad buzzed. “There’s a partial of the call I mentioned earlier. Should get him to open up.” Jessica said.

     Greg put the device on speaker, and played the file Jessica had sent him. “-I thought I told you to leave me alone!” The voice appeared to belong to Ciders. “If you don’t stop-” “You’ll what? There’s no way you’re getting out of this.” The second voice appeared to be Samson. At this point, Ciders was looking at Greg in surprise. The recording continued. “You aren’t going to get away with this.” “I already have-” The recording appeared to cut out.

     “How the hell did you get that?” Ciders asked. “Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you tell me exactly what happened.” Ciders sighed, and leaned back against one of the shelves lining the walls. He said nothing for a few seconds. “Fine. What do I have to lose.”

     “I knew Samson from work. I was a manager at the Ministry of Defense. We never really talked, but we would see each other from time to time. Everything was fine until I saw some discrepancies.” “What do you mean?” “I never saw the details, but I noticed some of his cases were being closed way too quickly.” “He was taking shortcuts?” Ciders nodded. “Not just shortcuts, I looked into it, and every case he worked, the suspects ended up dead. Well, he must have found out I knew, because all of a sudden, he started talking to me more. He’d stare when he thought I wasn’t looking. He’d also start to ‘accidentally’ follow me. It got to the point where I made several complaints. But he got them all dropped.” Greg thought back to his encounter with Samson. “Hold on, I thought you said you were a manager at the MOD. But we haven’t found any record of that.” Ciders stood up. “Bastard managed to destroy all the records. For all intents and purposes, I had never existed. My coworkers all acted as though I was a stranger. There was nothing I could do about it.” “So you ran. And the murder charges?” “All fabricated.” Greg nodded, and talked to Jessica. “What do you think?” “As far as I can tell, he’s telling the truth. But if Samson’s really done everything he’s saying- Greg, we can’t let him get away with it. Who knows how many other people he’s hurt, how many more he will hurt if we don’t stop him.” As she was finishing, a loud, high pitched alarm whistle sounded.

     Greg opened the door slightly, and peered out. All the gaslights were in their emergency mode, shining with a deep red light. People were being ushered out of the building by police and station workers. He could hear them yelling out orders. “Damn. He’s clearing the building. He has the local police on his side.” Ciders huffed out a regretful breath. “See? There’s nothing you can do to stop him.” “No, there has to a way. I mean, there’s the recording-” “It won’t be enough.” Jessica chimed in. “It’s only a partial, and even then, there’s no real context. If we want to take him down, we need something solid.” “You mean like getting him to confess on tape?” Greg said. “You think he’s just going to tell you everything?” Ciders asked. “No. At least, not me.” Greg said, thinking. “Greg, what are you planning?” Jessica asked, concern in her voice. “We give him what he wants.” he said, with an unnerving smile.

***

     Ciders walked down the platform, doing his best not to be seen by the policemen searching the station. He moved quickly, trying to keep his head down. Bright searchlights scanned the area, and Ciders took care to avoid them, occasionally hiding behind pillars and benches. Eventually, he got to a service entrance, and quickly exited the building.

     An arm grabbed Ciders as he was exiting the door. “Let me go!” he shouted, and quickly saw it was agent Samson. “I’ve finally got you. And I'm not letting you get away again.” He dragged Ciders to a waiting steam car. He put Ciders in the rear seat, and got in the driver’s seat. “I’m going to make sure no one ever finds you. Not that it will matter anyway.” “What about the people at the MOD?” Ciders asked. “Heh. Easy to flip. You’d be surprised how far loyalty goes.” “People are going to find out out about what you’ve done. All the people you’ve killed.” “Ha ha ha. You’re the only one that’s ever bothered to look. And you’re not going to get the chance to tell anyone else. It’s a shame really. You were actually pretty good at your job. But unfortunately for you, Karl-” “My name is Justin.” “Fine. Unfortunately for you, Justin, I was just better at mine.” Samson started up the steam car, and began to pull out of the station. “Unfortunately for you, agent, that’s not the case. NOW!”

     Samson began to turn around to face Karl, but he was interrupted by a gunshot, and then a loud BANG! as the car’s compressed steam line was shot. The engine quickly died, and Samson frantically searched around for the source. Several more shots rang out, shattering the windows of the car. Karl kept his head down, trying to stay out of the line of fire. Samson finally managed to see a figure approaching from where the two had previously exited the station. He pulled his own weapon, and returned fire.

     He only got a few shots off before he took a bullet to his right shoulder, causing him to drop the gun. Greg stopped shooting, and approached the door of the car. He pulled Samson out of the car, and promptly handcuffed him. “What the hell are you doing? Do you know who I am?” Samson shouted angrily. “Yeah. You’re the guy who’s going to jail for a long time.” Greg retorted, as he finished tightening the cuffs. “Big talk from a cop. Bet you don’t even have any evidence. Won’t take long to get the charges dropped.” Karl got out of the car, and handed Greg his data-pad. “You sure about that?” Greg said, as he tapped the screen of the data-pad. “I’m going to make sure no one ever finds you.” The recording played, in Samson’s voice. Samson’s face tensed up, as he realized he wasn’t going to get away with anything.

     The cops who had been scanning the station earlier ran to the scene, having heard gunshots. One of them approached Greg, asking “What the hell is going on here?” “I’m arresting agent Samson on count of treason, abuse of power, fraud, and a whole bunch of other charges.” “And who the hell are you?” Greg froze, and realized he was going to have to think of something fast. “Umm...”

“Agent West, I’m glad to see you have everything under control.” Everybody turned to look at the new speaker. Fox walked closer to the scene, and continued to speak. “Agent Grey, we’ve been on Samson's trail for a while.” Fox said to the cop, as he handed over an ID. The cop nodded in acknowledgment, and handed back the ID. “How come we didn’t hear about this?” “We had no way of being certain who Samson had managed to get on his side, so we decided to keep things quiet. We have orders to take him back to the Province of New York.” “Well, in that case, we’ll let you get to it.” The cop said, and he motioned for the rest of the cops to stand down. Fox turned to Greg. “Before you say anything, you’re welcome. Now, come on, we have somewhere to be.” “What about me?” Karl asked. “You get you’re life back, Justin. And, seeing as it was a government agent who caused all this, I suppose it’s only fair that the government pay for your return trip home.” With that, Fox walked away, with Greg eventually following, agent Samson in custody.

*****

     “Do you really think he’ll go to jail?” Justin asked Greg. They stood outside of the courthouse, the giant marble columns standing behind them. “With the recordings we have, as well as you testifying, I’d say so.” A look of relief appeared on Justin’s face, but was quickly replaced by an inquisitive one. “Back at the train station, you said you were an agent. But when we first met, you said you were a cop. So which one is it?” Greg chuckled a bit. “All you need to know is we help people like you. And we stop people like Samson. So, what are you going to do now, Justin?” Justin took in a deep breath. “I think I’m done with working for the government. I think I’ll go for a much safer job. Maybe a waiter.” They both laughed a bit more, and Greg saw Fox waiting at the bottom of the steps. “Well, you take care.” He said. “Yeah. And thanks again, for giving me my life back.”

     “You took a big risk lending him the data pad.” Fox said, quite seriously. “Hey, it worked out, didn’t it?” Greg replied, slightly offended by the remark. “All I’m saying, Mr. Wetzel, is that given the recent security breach, I would have expected you to be a little more careful. Especially since you’re not the one that has to replace them.” A few awkward second passed before either of them said anything. “How did you know where we were anyway. I thought you were busy?” Greg asked. “You should know by now, Mr. Wetzel. I have my ways. I’ll let you know when we get another number.” “Sure thing, Eliza.” Greg said, as Fox walked away, shooting him a look.

     “Jessica, you there?” Greg asked. “Only for a few more minutes. I have to make a grocery run soon. Somehow, all the conditioner keeps disappearing.” “Yeah, well listen, we should meet. There’s a lot we need to discuss.” “Okay. Care to say what it is?” “Not really. But it does have to do with a little side project of mine.” Said Greg, as he ended the call. He checked his data-pad, and got into the awaiting car. He trusted Fox, at least, for now. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try and find out more about his mysterious employer. He figured that it was about time. After all, they had been working together for over ten years now.