Potsdamer Platz, Berlin, Germany, when the whole city fells in asleep, the office building of the United Secret Service Agency is ablaze with lights. The staffs are still working, Like a machine in overload operation, every spare part gives out the “wheezing” sound.
Only three days left before the Berlin Summit. The U.S.S.A undertakes most of the logistic work. Every corner fills with the sense of repression. Staffs go back and forth among the printing machines, carrying thick piles of papers and documents.
Nearly 2:00 a.m, an agent walks out of the gate. Others in the office are still working, none of them pays any attention to this colleague. A few other lower their heads, and walk past him in a hurry, as if he was a transparent ghost.
If the U.S.S.A is a pressure cooker with rapidly rising temperature, this agent is simply a plug blocking the vent. This guy is accurately designed for intelligence. From head to foot, he is just like an image of the black and white film: white short hair, jagged and black moustache and sculpture-like face. No facial flunctuation.
“Agent Wedenheim!” Someone calls him in the corridor ,“Hey, Nemo!”
That agent keeps walking. He merely casts a glance at the person who speaks to him.
“Hello, Auga”. Nemo Wedenheim says, “What’s the matter?”
“I am just going to tell you”. Auga is somehow exited, “About the smugglers who came to Poland last week, I find something---”
“Any clues?” Nemo stopped a little bit, “with her?”
Auga looks around, bite her lips and slightly nods her head.
“Keep it low,”Nemo says, “I believe you.”
Auga sees Nemo stop at the corner, takes out his secret service card, and swipes it in front of the lift. She stands there in a loss
Like other agents, prior to working here, she has been told one thing: No one is allowed to enter one elevator right down the corner. It lead to the heart of the U.S.S.A, protecting the secrets from the entire world.
*
“Then, you screwed up.” Robert Eisenstein, the director of Central Intelligence Agency. He sits at one side of conference table, and constantly knocks at the table top with his fingers. “You tried to kill Molotov, but he still got away. He will revenge, won’t he?”
“According to the information we currently have, this possibility is increasing.” says Noah Bauer, who was the director of the U.S.S.A, “Especially when Molotov has a unknown quantity of chemical weapons, and we just offended him.”
“Any underworld rumors?" says Simon Morison, on behalf of the Federal Guardian.
“Quiet, as if nothing happened,” Noah shakes head, “Quiet as hell.”
“----- ‘Misha’ takes every chance to defame the Federal Guardian. But he chose to keep it low. For two weeks, none of the mainstream media mentioned anything about the assassination. Everyone focused on the air strike by Russian.” says Robert.
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“What does it mean?”
“Means, he doesn’t want to get noticed, which is not his style. We all know Misha has been the focus of media, especially that brother and sister..."
"Ilich," says Noah, "and Bagira."
"...two “terror idol’, that's how you calling them, quite fit.” says Robert, “They are the Favorite of some damn media. But in the last three months, Molotov has restrained himself and disappeared from the news.”
“But we know. Misha never truly disappears” Noah stands up, and turns on the projector behind the conference table, “This is an aerial photo of a factory in Volgograd eight months ago. It indicated Misha’s motorcades in frequent actions--- We wonder if they paid special attention to the chemical weapon arsenals of former Soviet Union. Since Vladimir Komov died two years ago, some armed forces have showed up in this region for the first time. Neither Komov nor the goverment. And these..”
He adjusts the projector.
“These pictures were taken by our friends at AGI. Chinese Spark Squad launched attacks on a supply center at Ural Mountains, they found some dozens of empty warheads. Look at the hive structure,”, Noah looks around, “What do you think they might put in them?”
“Toxic arrows,” Simon shrugs, “They only need a bow to launch them”.
“Correct. If they get their hands on a ballistic missile, it would be a disaster.”, Noah pushes his glass, “In fact, they are quite close to that...This is provided by the FSB--copies of orders for purchasing spare parts of liquid rocket boosters. Yuri Suslov, one of the common alias for Molotov”
Embarrassing silence fills the whole conference room.
“I just want to know”, Robert breaks the silence, “What the hell are we waiting for? How can you let it keep deteriorating like this? If you had already known a lot about it, he should have been dead!”
While they are talking, the backdoor of conference room opens silently. Nemo walks in and sits down in a dark corner without saying a word. Thank you so much, director. Most people in the conference room are quarreling intensely, defending for themselves. No one notices Nemo.
Nemo grabs portfolio with four stars on the cover. He takes out a few documents and reviews them carefully. The conference room is quite dim, where the projector was the only light source. But Nemo’s eyesight is not affected at all.
“Colonel Vega Molotov, Spetsnaz, Level III secret”, he reads silently, “abduction,rocket base on Mount Tianshan, Level III secret. And there is a picture, Molotov, Republic of Belarus, Minsk, Novichok warhead, Level IV secret....”
Just platitude.
Something touches his finger. A pile of photos, seals in a plastic bag of the portfolio.
Level IV secret.
Nemo looks around, makes sure that everyone else is quarreling without paying attention to him.
He opens the plastic bag and takes out the photos. About ten different photos, but all shows the face of the same man. In the dim light, Nemo could hardly tell what the man looks like. But one thing is certain. According to his cheekbone and brow ridge, he should be an Asian, tall and bronze skin with buzz and untrimmed stubble.
Nemo checks the photos one by one. The man on the photos wears plain clothes and leans against the wall with a dagger his hand. In one of the photos, he sits with three European soldiers on the edge of a helicopter, with a AUGA3 rifle in his hand. Another photo shows a badge with a pattern on it: two right triangles, with symmetric centers. Two sharp edges stand for a motto, "Higher than the sky, deeper than the ocean"
The badge of 14th Zenith Legion. The European elite force.
Nemo arranges the photos and put them away.
At this moment, Nemo feels something drops onto the ground in the shade. He checks it on the floor.
Another photo, smaller than the rest of them. He didn't even find out.
This photo shows quite different contents from the others. Nemo sees three people: a man, a woman and a baby in her arms. That man sits in the dark, seems be collecting his clothes, should be the same person in the previous photos. but with fewer beard. The woman stands by the window, her face has been pixilated, as well as the baby. It's like a terminator divides day and night in between them.
“Wait a second”
Nemo could not help say, "Wait a second. This woman...”
He turns down the photo. A line of small note with a big red cross covers on, says,
"So the honeymoon?"