Chapter 84
“After finishing the investigation by the Magic Tower Police upon arrival at the scene, I returned to the diplomatic mission and was briefed on today’s activities.”
“First off, it seems the cover-up was a success. The local police are now investigating it as a robbery-murder by a stranger.”
“And the source is the foreign police?”
“Yes. They’ve requested that I appear for witness questioning soon.”
“Uh… Right.”
I leaned back on the unfamiliar office sofa. This was the diplomatic office assigned to me upon taking my post as Defense Attaché.
Pippin and Jake were sitting across from me, continuing their report.
“According to the Counterintelligence Department’s report, they’ve disposed of all the evidence they collected.”
“What about the target?”
“They’re currently being detained in the Safe House.”
“Don’t touch them under any circumstances, and if you can, don’t approach or talk—just keep watch.”
I issued orders to my subordinates and sat back on the sofa, gazing out the window.
There was a sky painted in pink pastels over the Magic Tower, and the sunset was casting a glow between the radiant city buildings.
While I was lost in thought at the window, Jake asked me a question.
“Um… Manager.”
“Yeah?”
“What’s the plan now?”
I quietly closed my eyes, sinking into the sofa, and muttered.
“What’s there to plan?”
The bait has already been set.
“I guess we just wait until the fish bites.”
It was time to fish for Fabio Verati.
—
Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy
—
About a week had passed since I arrived at the Magic Tower.
As someone who only handled covert operations, I was starting to be assigned duties as a Defense Attaché.
“Colonel, could you step a bit to the side?”
“Do I have to smile?”
“I’d appreciate it if you could! Okay, now for the photo! One, two!”
It wasn’t a difficult task.
Though this was my first experience as a Defense Attaché, being a hasty newcomer, I received quite a bit of special treatment because of my position.
“Thank you for taking the time to come.”
“Haha. No problem, Director.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you. I was worried because some formidable companies are competing in this project….”
The businessman with hands like a meatball reached out for a handshake. He was an executive from a company participating in the new military gear procurement project.
Most of my duties as a Defense Attaché involved meeting people linked to the military and making a name for myself.
It wasn’t much different from my days in the cult.
Chatting with Suit Men at the banquet, being cornered by journalists for interviews that weren’t really interviews, and attending events to raise the profile.
The form was similar, but the purpose differed.
Back in the cult, I worked purely for Camila, but now I was working for the state and the military.
“Uh, I mean, Advisor. Are you alright? Your schedule seems quite tight.”
“I’m fine. Besides, after this much, don’t you think I’ve got to look like a Defense Attaché?”
Of course, I wasn’t executing my duties as a Defense Attaché purely for military intelligence gathering and military diplomacy.
My essence was that of an Operative, and being a Defense Attaché was merely a facade for my own safety. Acting as a Defense Attaché was just playing pretend (within limits to avoid arousing the suspicions of the counterintelligence agency).
I wouldn’t be assigned any significant attaché work anyway, nor would they trust me with it. After all, I was bound to leave soon, and more importantly, I was tasked with missions assigned by the Military Intelligence Agency.
I was treated like a mere pawn.
As I sat in the backseat of the vehicle with diplomatic plates, I asked Jake.
“What’s the next schedule?”
“You’ll have lunch and then a meeting with the Magic Tower officials.”
“Can’t you go in my place?”
“Oh come on. How could I do that? It’s an important meeting involving the Hero and the Saint.”
Protecting Camila and Lucia was my job. In fact, most of my duties as a Defense Attaché revolved around them.
There was no UK embassy here to protect Camila, who was British, and there was no diplomatic mission for Lucia’s cult at the Magic Tower, so I was the only one who could care for both.
“Sigh. I ended up being a babysitter by fate.”
“They’re both adults, you know, calling you a babysitter isn’t quite right.”
“Shut it.”
Normally such matters would make sense for an international organization like the UN to tackle, but unfortunately, that organization was in a state akin to a vegetable (a month ago, there was a rush of expulsion of diplomats on espionage charges across the continent), so no constructive discussions were taking place.
To put it simply, I was caught in the crossfire.
“Oh, by the way, about the relief supplies that came from the cult…”
“What about them?”
“They were in customs for inspection, but apparently, they were lost—no, stolen! I just got a message from the Ministry of Justice saying that a memo came in.”
Stolen? How does something get stolen like that?
Failing to hide my shock, Jake, who was driving, asked Pippin.
“Wait, did the customs get raided? Who did it?”
“They say it’s the work of extremist groups. That’s the explanation from the Ministry of Justice in the Magic Tower.”
“Oh, is it that place mentioned in the foreign ministry memo?”
“It’s just a suspicion, but it’s plausible.”
So customs got sabotaged by civilians? I’m not sure if it’s a civic group or a terrorist one.
What a mess.
Leaning back against the seat, I asked Pippin.
“Pippin, any other news?”
“They say the one in custody is being questioned by the police. It seems the family of the victim was summoned first.”
Looks like Fabio Verati finally caught wind of things. I had a hunch we’d be getting a nibble soon.
I nodded and continued.
“Alright. And?”
“The police have requested for you to appear for witness questioning.”
“Decline.”
“Understood.”
—
The operation to abduct Fabio Verati’s youngest daughter was successfully concluded.
The youngest daughter was under ‘supervision’ from the Counterintelligence Department at an employee-arranged safe house. Essentially, she was being held captive.
Moreover, the deception operation I carried out was progressing very successfully.
The Magic Tower Police took the Military Intelligence Agency’s covert activities as just a simple violent crime, and the Magic Tower’s counterintelligence agency failed to detect the Military Intelligence Agency’s operations.
—‘Looks like the line is still alive. Good.’
I’m dragging out the police’s request for me to appear for questioning as a witness.
For a diplomat to be investigated by foreign police, it requires coordination with the diplomatic mission.
—‘I’ve heard the news; the Defense Attaché Office is coordinating, right?’
“Yes, that’s correct. I’ve made excuses that I can’t find time right now because of official duties.”
I’m officially a Defense Attaché, and of course, my schedule is managed by the diplomatic mission.
The mission has conveyed that we will cooperate with the police as much as possible and that they should discuss it with the Defense Attaché Office, but the Defense Attaché Office that I asked (which is exactly an order from the Military Intelligence Agency) is too busy to concern itself with my matters.
He acted uncooperative under the pretext of excuses.
In fact, isn’t passing the buck to another department a norm in the civil service? With sufficient justification, I’m currently ignoring the summons from the Magic Tower as if to say, “I don’t care.”
Of course, I have my own plans.
— “What’s Subject 51 up to right now?”
“It has been confirmed that they reported to the police at 11 AM today and were investigated until 5 PM. As for the eavesdropping results, it appears they are currently on leave and staying at home.”
— “Hmm. So when do you plan to move on to the next phase?”
“I expect they will reach out first soon. No later than within two weeks.”
According to the Technical Information Department, signs have been detected that Fabio Verati has been making calls upon hearing the news that his youngest daughter has been kidnapped.
The police, the counter-intelligence agency, the Ministry of Justice, the Ministry of Communications, and so on.
Receiving the case records from the police, gathering information from the domestic information officer of the counter-intelligence agency, checking on foreigners currently staying through the Ministry of Justice, and confirming with the Ministry of Communications whether any suspicious communications have passed through the crime scene.
He was desperately trying to find out where his daughter was like a madman.
Now that I’m getting a nibble, I plan to wait a bit longer before reeling in Fabio Verati.
“The analysis results indicate he’s half out of his mind. I don’t know much about psychology, but I could tell just from his voice.”
Calmly stating the reality, Clevenz replied gruffly.
— “What parent would be sane if their child was kidnapped?”
“If you look hard enough, there might be one or two.”
— “Now that’s just crazy talk. Why is your thinking so twisted?”
What do you mean twisted? Where else would you find someone as good-hearted as me?
Stunned by the absurdity, I was momentarily at a loss for words.
“Well, isn’t that the case? What did I do wrong? I was merely following orders.”
— “Wasn’t the plan formed by you?”
“Well, I suppose that’s true.”
Through the communication device, a clicking sound could be heard.
— “Sometimes you seem to take things too far. You seem to think capturing people is too easy.”
“That was you during the capturing, Colonel. You were the investigator, after all.”
— “That’s not what I meant.”
“I meant that in the same way.”
Clevenz was the one who arrested people and brought them to trial, while I was the one who tormented them for information.
So it’s no surprise that Clevenz doesn’t understand me. He had worked his entire life in a different field. I realized this differing nature might elicit such reactions.
Anyway.
“If we drag this out, I believe they will contact us first.”
— “Yeah. Handle that as you see fit, but how’s the condition of Subject 51’s relatives?”
“They’re alive and well, without a scratch.”
The youngest daughter is still alive. Though she’s in captivity, she hasn’t even had a hair touched, so there’s plenty of room to negotiate.
“It seems I can continuously manipulate conditions for her safety in exchange for receiving information. At least that’s my impression.”
In short, it’s a hostage situation.
If you want to save your child’s life, hand over the secrets. Something like that.
It’s a common cliché seen in movies and dramas, yet it actually tends to work, so information agencies often resort to such tactics.
— “Continual contact, huh… While the child’s life is at stake, we can’t rule out the possibility that they may become uncooperative.”
“……”
— “What will you do then?”
“Well… I could torture them or kill them.”
“Whatever it takes, there’s always a way to make them speak.”
*
Having completed the scheduled tasks, I returned to the hotel.
A luxurious five-star hotel provided by the Magic Tower. Plainclothes police were roaming the outskirts conducting stop-and-frisk checks, and armed security hired by the hotel was on standby at the entrance.
“Good work. We’ll maintain the surveillance system for a while, so you’ll need to report to the embassy starting tomorrow.”
“Yes. Please go in and rest.”
“Alright.”
After sending off Pippin and Jake, I headed upstairs.
The operation was successful, so to avoid suspicion for a while, I intended to focus solely on the duties of the Defense Attaché.
I planned to meet with Magic Tower civil servants, grab a bite, take photos with businessmen, and network with foreign officials; time would fly by.
I was merely tasked with monitoring Fabio Verati. Once he contacts us, I would pressure him regarding his child to delve into the Human Resources Development Agency.
Then everyone would be happy.
Fabio Verati would reunite with his child, the Government of Abas would gain an upper hand in diplomatic relations with the Magic Tower, and I would add another line to my career record.
A future where everyone is happy.
Except for the Magic Tower.
“……”
I gazed down at the city’s skyline through the elevator’s glass window, blending modern architecture with quaint houses.
Each building was likely illuminated by someone’s hard-earned efforts.
Suddenly, the thought crossed my mind that my espionage could very well influence the future of the Magic Tower.
The consequences of violating international law are never trivial, and right now, the Magic Tower was in a position where it had more to lose than ever.
Of course, deciding the treatment of the Magic Tower depends on the public disclosure of the treaty violations, which is the responsibility of the government and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs—not the Military Intelligence Agency; thus I paid little mind.
It wasn’t really my concern.
Perhaps it was the night, but I felt an unusual surge of distracting thoughts.
With such thoughts in mind, I dragged my weary body into the hotel room.
I needed to focus on my Defense Attaché duties starting tomorrow, so there was much to prepare.
As I opened my bag to pack according to the schedule, I felt something was off.
“……?”
I sensed something strange.
“……”
I strode over to the closet with the bag left open and checked the hanging clothes.
Shoulders, sleeves, pockets, even inside the jacket and shirt.
I searched the room thoroughly for a long time.
Then, a few moments later, a gasp escaped my lips.
“…Shit.”
The arrangement of items in the bag had changed, and a hair I had left on the clothes was now on the floor.
So,
“…Who the hell was it?”
Someone had ransacked my room.