7: Secrets, Waiting to be Unearthed

Jack strides across the corridors of the Archive. The weight of the city lies heavy on his shoulders as he navigates the maze of shelves and filing cabinets. The air is thick with the scent of old paper and dust. His footsteps echo off the peeling paint of the walls.

In a series of rooms, lining the empty, white hall, there is not so much as a trace of algae on the floor and walls. This level of hygiene is just absurd for someone like Jack to wrap his head around. Jack digs around his pocket for his card. He is a man of simplicity, for only three things exist inside his pocket: a lighter, cigarettes, and an employee card. He quickly scans it on a heavily-fortified metal door. It beeps in error. He scans it again, slower this time. It beeps in error. Annoyed, he goes into the keypad and type. 95043291. Smoke starts exhaling from the edges of the door. The pistons slowly push and pull the metal boards, revealing an entrance. Jack presses some more buttons and walks in. The door steadily closes behind him. We can only hope nobody suspicious remembers that code to get in.

As he moves deeper into the Archive's heart, Jack hastily scans the rows of files lining the shelves. It has been quite the day. Newspapers and reporters have not shut up about the incident that transpired two days ago, which they dubbed “the Austen Boulevard Massacre." According to witnesses at the crime scene, nearly everybody escaped from harm. Unfortunately, some casualties were reported to have been "sliced to bits." Jack turned off the TV right there. He could not have waited a second more.

Jack was able to analyze the weapon types that the deceased used. R-14 rifles. A type of rifle which, weirdly, has only been used before and during the war. Documents say this is not because they are excellent weapons; they were just cheap to make. Jack was surprised to see them in use after so long.

Jack sits down on a stool in front of a rusty screen. He wipes away the cobwebs covering this ancient technology and boots it up. Unsurprisingly, this thing may have existed before the city was built, so Jack holds no doubt it has what he needs. A login screen appears. Jack types in his name and serial number. It beeps in error.

His patience can run thin, so Jack furiously starts digging around the desk for a password of some kind. Old files and cobwebs are all he sees.

Then, a miracle appears. The computer glitches out to a blank screen with a flashing panel. It reads, "CONFIRM or NO?"

"What?" Jack thinks out loud. He muses on whether this thing is being hacked. But who would hack this decrepit piece of junk?

"Okay," Jack clicks "CONFIRM."

The screen switches to a bright field of green grass encompassed by blue skies. Jack slightly widens his eyes in awe. What are those green growths? Can the sky be that blue? Does this place exist somewhere in the real world?

Jack looks around for something to steer. The only thing connected to this computer is a weirdly shaped oval object that resembles an avocado. Or an oversized egg. Jack is not too picky when picking descriptions. He moves it around, and a white arrow starts moving on the screen. Okay, that seems to do the trick.

He clicks on a search engine and starts listing through the dates. Jack settles on the year he thinks he was born. A thousand files flash in front of his eyes. To read all of them is suicide, so Jack changes the list to weapon-only, then to rifle-only, and there it is—fifty separate documents on R-14. Jack leans back and stretches. At least, that is better than combing through a thousand of them.

The files are weirdly labeled. They are titled with a series of unintelligible codes. Are they coded messages? Jack wonders. Why would files about rifles be coded? He pulls out a small notebook and starts copying the codes down. While copying fifty codes down, something catches Jack's attention. It is an acronym of some sort, typed in all caps at the top. It reads:

"CORE."

CORE? CORE of what? Jack puzzles. Is this an enemy? Is this an ally? Curious, he pulls out the files and begins reading. But before Jack can read the first paragraph, he is rudely interrupted by his phone's ringtone. Jack rubs his half-closed eyes and yawns, opening the phone to see who is calling. It seems the name must be important, because Jack immediately sits up straight, coughs multiple times to clear his voice, and answers the phone.

"Yes, Director. What is the purpose of your call?" Jack asks in the loudest, clearest voice he can muster.

"Jack. We have reports from the on-site research team. They've combed through the whole apartment building. For your information, no other citizens were targeted."

"Oh, thank god," Jack breathes a sigh of relief.

"Which leads me to believe this is more than a terrorist attack. After all, they targeted you."

"I have some theories, ma'am. For one, I think it might be a bounty," Jack flips through his notebook to see if he has written that down.

"No. I had the media guys sweep through the net. From the beginning of this month to now, no new bounty was put up. None under your name, that is."

"I see. It might be a personal vendetta, then. There could be syndicates that wanted me specifically," Jack crosses out a line on his notes.

"What did the guy say when you interrogated him?"

"He took his own life, ma'am."

"What? How have I not heard of this until now, agent?"

"My apologies. He died mid-convo. I was as shocked as you are. He swallowed a pill, I think."

"Agent Jack. I am very disappointed in you not giving us a full report. We need every single detail available, do you copy?"

"Of course, Director. My deepest apologies."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"And also. Your theory's wrong."

"Pardon?"

"No trace of any substance in his teeth and gums. Besides his fingers, his whole body was undamaged, untouched. He died in perfect condition. Do YOU know how diabolical that sounds?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jack swallows.

"And about the situation on Austen... We are still not sure. However, we think the guy who targeted you last week might be connected."

"How so, ma'am?"

"Witnesses say there was a 'flash of steel' and sightings of a 'sword' or a 'katana.' "

"I'm sorry. What's a 'ka-ta-na?' " Jack scratches his head.

"Wait, you don't know? Japan's classic single-edged sword. Almost everyone knows them."

"Japan? Do you mean that country that fell to an earthquake in '78? That was years before I was born."

"That's what makes this whole ordeal weird. We got a fella running around, wielding some ancient sword from a bygone era. Assassins sporting pre-war firearms."

"Do you think the fellow running this whole thing might be old-fashioned?" Jack jokingly asks.

"Point is: the slash shape from the bookstore was definitely made by a blade-type weapon. I only consider katana as an alternative, when in reality, no real human can cut that deep and that fast."

"He might have been under the influence of steroids, ma'am."

"We don't know. But one thing's for sure. You are under target, agent. Proceed with caution."

"Roger, ma'am."

"I'll contact you when we have a lead. Until then, stay at HQ. We can't lose you."

"Roger that, Director," Jack salutes.

Jack puts his phone back on his belt and leans back on his stool. Well, there is only one thing he needs to do now. Time to ask some questions.

***

"HAH! Attacked by them CORE guys!" Vincent snorts. "Man, I can't IMAGINE their faces in death!"

Zero remains impassive as Vincent's laughter echoes through the room, but his mind is twitching for answers. Despite the jovial facade, Zero senses something beneath Vincent's words—a shard of knowledge hidden within.

"You find amusement in death?" Zero asks calmly, but Vincent can hear the threatening undercurrent. "What do you know of the CORE operatives who attacked us?"

"Us? Only you, my friend! Hahahaha!"

Zero does not laugh.

Vincent's laughter fades, replaced by a cold smirk as he meets Zero's gaze.

"Oh, I know plenty," Vincent replies. "CORE may fancy themselves as righteous warriors of their cause, but in the end, they're nothing more than hired guns—mercenaries with no loyalty but to the highest bidder, essentially insignificant pawns in the larger game."

Zero's brows furrow. Mercenaries with no loyalty would not risk their lives for such fruitless goals, Zero contemplates. Especially if they already knew who I was before drawing their weapons. No idiots with half a brain would dare confront the most feared assassin of the underworld. They would be killed. And the money they were promised? Gone. So why did they do it? Was it simply greed? His head wobbles back and forth, lost in thoughts.

"Who hired them?" Zero presses. "And why target me?"

Vincent's smirk widens—a gleam of satisfaction dances in his eyes as he leans back in his chair, relishing the tension that hangs in the air between them.

"Now, now, Zero," Vincent chides in a tone that drips with mock sympathy. "You know I can't reveal all my secrets just yet. But rest assured, all will be revealed in due time."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Vincent rises from his seat. His demeanor shifts from amusement to grim in an instant.

"But for now," Vincent continues, "let's focus on the task at hand. There are still loose ends to tie up..."

"And I have a feeling, just a feeling," he turns to Zero, "that you and I won’t be seeing a lot of each other in the coming days."

With that, Vincent strides out of the room, leaving Zero alone with his thoughts and a mounting sense of unease.

***

CASE FILE: CORE. WARNING: CONFIDENTIAL INFO.

The rivalry between Sentinel Intelligence Agency (SIA) and CORE traces back to a complex history rooted in various operations and key events. Examples of this include the Iceberg Operation, the Forged Vote Count Incident, the 21XX Market Crash, Operation Concealed Inventory, etc… While the exact origins of their animosity remain in secret, several hypothetical factors may have contributed to the enmity between the two organizations:

Ideological Differences: SIA and CORE may have initially diverged due to fundamental differences in their core beliefs and missions. SIA could be driven by a commitment to upholding democratic values, safeguarding national security, and promoting transparency in government operations. Meanwhile, CORE might prioritize achieving its objectives through any means necessary, including questionable methods and morally ambiguous tactics.

Competition for Resources: As two prominent organizations operating within the same geopolitical sphere, SIA and CORE likely vie for limited resources, including funding, personnel, and access to sensitive information. The struggle to maintain a competitive edge in the intelligence landscape could fuel tensions and foster a climate of rivalry and mistrust between the two organizations. At this time, CORE’s HQ location remains unknown.

Historical Conflicts: Over the last 30 years, SIA and CORE may have found themselves on opposite sides of various conflicts and geopolitical struggles. Whether it be proxy wars, covert operations, or geopolitical brinkmanship, their divergent agendas and strategic interests could have led to clashes in the field, further exacerbating their animosity.

Betrayals and Double-Crosses: The murky world of espionage is rife with betrayal and double-crosses, where loyalties are ever-shifting and alliances are forged and broken with impunity. SIA and CORE may have been embroiled in a series of betrayals and clandestine machinations, with each side seeking to outmaneuver and undermine the other at every turn.

Personal Vendettas: At the heart of the conflict between SIA and CORE may lie deeply personal vendettas and grudges that transcend institutional rivalries. Individual operatives and high-ranking officials within both organizations may have personal scores to settle, secrets to protect, or agendas to pursue, driving them to pursue their agendas at the expense of their rivals.

These factors, along with a myriad of other complex dynamics and hidden motivations, could have contributed to the long history of conflict between Sentinel Intelligence Agency and CORE. However, these are merely hypotheses, and one question still remains:

What, truly, is CORE’s goal?

End of File.