The dim light flickered on and off, a pungent smell accompanied by a wave of heat hit the face. Trash was scattered everywhere on the streets—food remnants, worn-out clothes, and here and there, used syringes. Makeshift tents lined both sides of the streets, filled with clutter. Some people didn't even have these basic shelters and slept directly on the ground, using newspapers as pillows.
This is a slum area in downtown San Francisco known as "Heaven"—a paradise for the poor. Just a few streets away, the scenery couldn't be more different, but that prosperity had nothing to do with them. The people here couldn't afford rent, and the population was mostly made up of those suffering from mental illnesses, alcoholics, drug addicts, and violent criminals.
The person Mo Sijie was looking for lived in the third dark-gray tent after turning left at the intersection.
Music started to play again. Mo Sijie glanced at his wristwatch—11:00 PM. He had been staking out here for three nights. Around this time, rock music would blare from an unknown tent. Such music would be the background sound for a party in a high-end community, but here, it felt out of place.
He had learned the person's daily habits and had also observed the surrounding environment. At this moment, the person should be preparing for sleep. Alertness drops right before sleep, making it the most opportune time for Mo Sijie to question him. Also, he would be less likely to be exposed.
Mo Sijie knocked symbolically twice on the "door," which was, in reality, just a tattered curtain that barely protected the tent owner's property and privacy.
"Who is it?" A hoarse voice came from inside the tent.
Before the owner could open the "door," Mo Sijie lifted the curtain and stepped in. He was leaner now than in his youth; standing at 1.8 meters tall with a muscular build, he was quite sturdy even among Caucasians.
The tent had no proper furniture. A ripped mattress occupied half the space, messy but relatively clean clothes scattered on it. On a small wooden table near the corner, an old laptop flickered. Mo Sijie caught a glimpse of information about Eka on the computer screen.
"You're trespassing. I could point a gun at you!" The man inside was shirtless, a noticeable bullet wound on his right upper chest, eyeing Mo Sijie cautiously.
"Let's see who's faster then," Mo Sijie replied, pulling out a gun and aiming it at the man's forehead.
"FBI Agent Moss. What brings you here so late?" The man provocatively lifted Mo Sijie's ID. Moss was his English name. The man had swiftly snatched it from his right pocket while Mo Sijie was drawing his gun. Mo Sijie hadn't noticed it at all.
"Jimmy, Harper is missing!" Mo Sijie lowered his gun and voice, getting straight to the point. Harper was Mo Sijie's mentor at the FBI, and Jimmy was Harper's informant.
"What happened? Are you sure you're not mistaken?" Jimmy stared incredulously.
"No!" Mo Sijie looked distressed, his face somewhat pale.
"When did it happen?" Jimmy's eyes widened, showing a surprised expression.
"Ten days ago!" Mo Sijie answered in a hushed tone.
"Where did he go missing?" Jimmy forced himself to calm down before asking.
"Eka," Mo Sijie replied softly, hearing footsteps outside the tent.
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Jimmy loosened his guard upon hearing the news about Harper. Although he couldn't yet verify the truth, he wasn't sure if Mo Sijie had other motives for seeking him out.
Jimmy had been a technical officer for the CIA, analyzing intelligence in the Middle East. Five years ago, he was forced to leave due to drug addiction. Back in San Francisco, broke and alone, he quickly ran out of savings due to drugs and ended up on the streets. Harper recognized his intelligence talent and not only financially supported him but also recruited him as an informant.
"What is the FBI doing about this?" Jimmy finally asked after a moment of contemplation.
"They're angry at Harper for his unilateral actions, but so far, there's no sign of them taking any measures. For the FBI, a person who doesn't obey the organization is expendable," Mo Sijie replied, looking grave.
Jimmy gave a bitter smile. It was the same with the CIA; he was one of the expendables. "Why do you think so?"
"He hasn't replied to my emails!" Mo Sijie said with utter certainty.
"Is that so unusual?" Jimmy asked, looking puzzled.
Mo Sijie knew how unconvincing his reason sounded, so he elaborated, "It has never happened before! Since I joined the FBI until his disappearance, we had maintained daily email contact without a single day's break. He must be in danger, and the best time for rescue has already passed."
"What's your plan?" Jimmy asked solemnly after a moment of thought.
"We have to find him, no matter the cost!" Mo Sijie replied, locking eyes with Jimmy as if trying to draw strength from him. Right now, he needed a teammate, and Jimmy, with a similar background, was the ideal choice.
"So, you want me to join you?" Jimmy guessed.
"I need the information that Harper had you investigating. I suspect his disappearance is related to that. Of course, if you'd like to join, you're more than welcome!" Mo Sijie smiled faintly and said directly.
After a long silence, Jimmy squeezed out his doubts from his throat, "Do you think that your words alone can earn my trust?"
The implication in Jimmy's words couldn't be clearer, but Mo Sijie couldn't provide more evidence to prove the matter's authenticity. "Harper should have mentioned me to you, based on his trust in me."
Jimmy shook his head, "No, but I do know he has a favored pupil." At the same time, a decision had already formed in his mind, "Give me one day."
"Tomorrow night at eleven, I'll come to you," Mo Sijie understood immediately. He took his identification back from Jimmy's hands and left the tent. He had been investigating Jimmy for three days, and the first contact was still unfavorable. Jimmy remained tight-lipped even after hearing Harper's disappearance, maintaining the high standards his mentor had always set. Mo Sijie knew that in these 24 hours, Jimmy would do everything to verify the news of Harper's disappearance.
Mo Sijie found an important clue on Jimmy's computer—Eka. His teacher and his ongoing mission had nothing to do with Eka. Harper suddenly appeared in Eka ten days ago and then mysteriously disappeared. Mo Sijie deduced that Harper must be conducting some private investigation related to Eka.
Mo Sijie was very confident in his analytical skills. He could sift through mountains of files and disjointed data to identify useful information. Harper once praised him, saying he was his best agent.
Recalling his past with Harper made Mo Sijie somewhat melancholic. If he hadn't met Harper, he might still be struggling with PTSD. At 19, he joined the U.S. Air Force and was deployed to the Middle East multiple times. Shortly after his 25th birthday, he was sent on a combat mission to Eka. His F-16 was unfortunately struck by a missile. He ejected in time, but the crash resulted in the deaths of seven local children.
From then on, he was plagued by nightmares. Finally, he lost 10 kilograms in a week and returned to San Francisco for treatment, retiring from the Air Force. However, when he got home, his wife Anna's first words to him were, "Let's get a divorce."
That's when he met Harper at Cielo Bar. The two men started bonding over drinks. Mo Sijie was grateful that Harper had invited him to join the FBI. He did not disappoint his mentor.
This time, Harper was conducting a secret investigation in Eka without him. Mo Sijie suspected it had to do with his past experiences in Eka, experiences that had triggered his PTSD.
After leaving Jimmy's tent, Mo Sijie was deep in thought as he walked along the road. Suddenly, a strong urge to urinate interrupted his thoughts. While meeting with Jimmy, he had suppressed this urge with sheer willpower. 'Where's the bathroom?' he thought. There was one about fifty meters ahead, but he loathed the idea of going there because of its foul smell. Eventually, he couldn't hold it any longer and relieved himself in a dark corner.
Just as he sighed in relief, he saw three figures approaching him from the road. It was Ulysses, Harper's adopted son. What was he doing here? Mo Sijie turned his back immediately, not wanting to be recognized.