The Loose End / Death of A Hollow Man

Autor's note: Thanks for all the positive feed-back. I really appreciate it. However, I would also like if you pointed out some of my lackings. If I'm not corrected on my errors, it'll be hard for me to progress as an author.
Also, I have added a lot of material to the previous chapter, as I thought it was a little too short and the flow of the conversations wasn't quite right. You might want to revisit it.


A noise was buzzing in the distance, shrill as harpy's song, perforating the sweet, clear notes of ' the mass in c minor' that spawned from the audio player in the living room. Spider, who was just finishing a breakfast of scrambled eggs, black pudding and toasted bread recognised the sound as that of his phone ringing, loudly announcing that someone out there wanted to speak to him. He stopped eating, listening carefully with a surprised expression on his face. No one usually called him at this hour and much less on a saturday. He checked his watch and sure enough, the time was no more than 08:43. When the phone rang again, he put his cutlery neatly on his napkin, rose from his chair and walked hastily to the phone in the living room. He snatched the wooden handle of his old muscovite phone and lifted it to his ear.

"Bradford speaking" he said with a slight hint of excitement as he picked it up.

"Bonjour M. Giffard. This is Sarah. I am calling from the reception" said a woman's voice, different from the one he in all likelyhood had been hoping to hear. "Do you have a moment?"

He scratched his forehead. He recognised the voice as that of the quebecoise receptionist, Sarah Depardieu, whom he knew quite well, as she attended the same church as he and Fitzgerald did. She was a young blonde with a kind face and beautiful azure eyes that complemented her beautiful red lips and oblong chin. The poor, young woman had come to the church when she fled her violent, abusive husband, seeking refuge from her spouse. She had been pregnant but had lost the child when her husband had laid his hands on her, kicking her one too many times in her stomach, triggering a miscarriage. She had sought solace in the house of our savior, refusing to go to the authorities; from a distance he had heard her cry in front of the image of the gracious madonna, while she believed she was alone, blaming herself for the death of her unborn. He sat in the aisles, rosary in hand, when he heard her cries of lamentation echoing in the church-hall like the tormented cries of a wronged woman they were, the grey skies crying along with her, shedding tears on the stained glass windows from without. As he sat there, knowing that all he had to do to help her would be getting out of his seat and walk over to her, he just kept fumbling his rosary, silent as always. She never even knew he had been there.

He had told Fitzgerald of the young woman in distress. The husband died in a car accident a few days later.

"Oui, bien sûr. Comment puis-je vous être utile Mademoiselle Depardieu?" Giffard asked in fine french, facilitating the conversation with the receptionists, asking how he could assist her.

"Je suis désolé si je t'ai réveillé, mais un homme anonyme a laissé un message pour vous. Voulez-vous entendre le contenu du message?" she asked, revealing that somebody had left a message for him. He couldn't help but raise a brow.

"Oui, s'il vous plaît. Lisez à haute voix pour moi" he said, asking her to read the message out loud. Sounds of papers being shuffeled through sounded through the phone before Depardieu read the message out loud.

"I know it's your weekend, but I need to see you at The Octagon. We have matters to discuss - Monarch" she read to him in her gentle voice.

Giffard understood the message's meaning and nodded his head submissively in silence.

"Monsieur? Vous allez bien?" the young woman on the other end of the line asked him.

"Oui... Tout va bien, merci. En cas une 'Sharon' vous demande où je suis, dites-lui que je suis au bureau" the old man said and hung up. He went to the kitchen, cleaned his plates, put them back in the kitchen cabinet, went to the bathroom, combed his hair, shaved and brushed and flossed his teeth as per routine.
He found his black leather gloves, his tie, his coat and his vest and put them on, like a knight would his armour and studied himself in the hallway mirror. He starred at his own reflection for a few minutes before he sighed and went out the door. He left his safe haven, shutting his apartment door carefully behind him.

Half an hour later, Giffard was walking through the Hall of Honour on his way from the Old Library of Parliament to the Confederation Hall where Monarch was awaiting him. Normally, Monarch would ask Spider to meet him at his office, but at other times, it seemed that Monarch liked meeting up in other areas of Centre Block, perhaps because he like the gothic-revival architecture of the four hundred year old building. He passed the beautiful white gothic arches in the ribbed vault ceiling in a hurry, without even looking at the exquisitely carved Tudor rose and fleur-de-lis sporting ceiling-bosses. Even though Giffard was a man who enjoyed the small details in everything, he was a man who took his job very seriously. He knew that time was always of the essence; things could go sour if one did not tend to business immediately, especially in Giffard's line of work.

He reached the end of the corridor and punched the access-code into the security terminal, prompting the huge, secured door to swing aside, revealing the huge octagonal room that laid behind it. The room was divided by limestone clustered arches into eight bays of different sizes, themselves divided by dark green syenite pillars. Truly, this room with its carved centre-pillar, inlaid floor of white and green serpentine marble and fetching perpendicular gothic arches was one of the most beautiful rooms in the entire building and struck anyone who entered the room with a sense of awe.

The room was rather dimly lit as the day had not quite dawned yet. Only a single beam of light penetrated the easternmost window and bathed the room in a frail yellowish light, making it rather hard to make out colours and see the otherwise fine details of the room's fine frieze below the equally dainty cornice. Monarch stood spang in the middle of the room, leaning against the large white pillar, wearing his brown, striped three-piece suit with coffee-spots. He nodded welcomely as he saw Giffard.

"Brad. I am so glad you came. I was not sure if you had received my message" he said with a friendly yet serious expression in his face as Giffard approached him. The hall resounded with the sound of Giffard's footsteps almost as if it warned everyone of his arrival.

"Well, you know me, Don. Ever alert" Giffard replied with a slight smile on his lips. Monarch responded by smiling right back at him. They shook hands, showing their mutual respect.

"It would be a shame to claim otherwise, friend" he said, pulling a cigar from his pocket. "You would not mind if I lit one, would you?" he asked.

"Of course not" Giffard replied rather insincerely. He knew how much Monarch enjoyed his little unhealthy habit and saw no reason to deny him a good cuban cigar. Monarch's left hand went to his pocket, searching for matches as he put the cigar in his mouth.

"Look, I am really sorry that I have to pull you in on a saturday and then this early at that, but we have got ourselves a slight problem on our hands" Monarch said through the side of his mouth. The stopped leaning against the pillar and stood up proper.

"I had imagined as much" Giffard answered. It was unusual for Monarch to meet up with him personally, unless something was amiss. Monarch might have been a dear ally, but the was also the bearer of the grimmest of news.

"So, what is it, Don?" Giffard asked Monarch, using his nickname. Monarch grinned as he liked when Giffard spoke to him as a friend rather than a colleague.

"Oh, I'm afraid it's much worse than just a leak this time" Monarch elaborated, failing to find any matches in his pocket.

"Damn, I forgot to bring my matches. You shouldn't happen to have any on you, should you?" He said, taking the cigar out of his mouth.

"Well, I have got my lighter but I believe you connoisseurs find that it would only ruin the good taste of the tobacco" Giffard teased.

"It'll have to do for just this time" Monarch said with a wide smile upon his lips. "But bring matches in the future or we'll have to reevaluate your paycheck" he jested with a warmth in his eye.

"I see. That will teach me for being friends with my boss" Giffard said as he took his lighter from his inner pocket.

"We were friends long before I became The Monarch, Brad" Monarch assured Giffard as Giffard lit his 6-inch roll of Cuban tobacco. "Hell, the only reason I rose in the ranks quicker that you did, is because you always wear those stupid glasses. The Crown might not mind them, but they creep the alliance big-wigs out, you know" He said and blew smoke out his mouth releasing the stench of the fermented and dried leaves upon Giffard. "If you took them off, they would sack me within the week" he said and laughed. There was truth in his words. Before Don had been named the chairman of ASIS, Giffard had been considered for the position, but found 'inadequate as a person, with little to no social skills'.

"So, what can an old friend do for you?" Giffard asked.

"Well" Monarch said, his facial expression changing for the somewhat more serious. "We have a serious problem on our hands. It's Anderson"

Giffard listened in silent attention, ready to soak up information like a sponge. Something had seemed off yesterday.

"His maid found him dead in his bedroom this morning when she came to his chambers with his breakfast. It appeared that he had offed himself, so she called the police immediately" Monarch said. This came as a surprise to Giffard but it also explained Finch's rather odd behavior. He might have been depressed and on the verge to end his own life, the poor soul. However, he had not seemed particularly fatigued lately and neither had he undergone any significant weight-loss, two of the tell-tale signs of depression. Monarch huffed on his big cigar before carrying on about the newly deceased Mister Finch.

"We called the police, however, and asked them to stay put while we remove all confidential files and equipment from his house. As you could imagine, there's a lot of it. This means that only ASIS agents will be found in the house at the moment. This gives us a window of opportunity to investigate the scene on our own"he explained, exhaling smoke from his dreadful cigar once again. "...and that just what we'll do"

Giffard hesitated before asking Monarch: "Why would we not trust the police report?"

"It's not that I wouldn't trust the police report. It's that I would want some things left out of it..." he said, staring at the window from which the dim light originated.

"Like what, if I may ask?" Giffard inquired.

"All the good stuff" Monarch said, turning his face towards Giffard. "See, I don't really think that this was a suicide. That would just be too... coincidental. I think it was wetwork and I think it has something to do with all the failed operations he has been having lately" Monarch disclosed with a grim look upon his face.

Giffard nodded, indicating that he agreed.

"Fitzgerald had a point yesterday, when he said that it was rather odd that all these incidents only occurred in operations that Finch had something to do with". Monarch paused before continuing. "Now, I knew Finch to be loyal, but I must admit - it all seemed rather suspicious" Monarch said, murmuring, almost as if he was talking to himself. "The OSSR being tipped off... Frog Man busting our assets... All within a relatively short amount of time and all under the supervision of the same Intelligence Officer - Anderson Wallace Finch". Monarch began pacing slowly back and forth in a little oval-shape on the floor.

"Now, that is not saying that I think he was a mole. I don't think he was" he said. Giffard was listening very carefully and observing Monarch going in circles, deep within himself in his mentation.

"But I think someone inside ASIS might be. That is why I don't want there to be a police report with anything juicy in it for the other members of the Penthouse to see - not Gabriel, not Fitzgerald and most certainly not Walliam. If I chose to trust them I also chose to trust the men working under them and I don't know if I'm at liberty to do so". Monarch huffed on his cigar once again, blowing out smoke that would dance merrily in the air.

"This is why I have contacted you. You have fewer men working under you, you mostly work alone and you're damn good at your job. Besides, which of the other have I known since college?" Monarch asked with a friendly smile.

"That does not rule out that I might be a sleeper agent" Giffard said, half-jokingly.

"Being recruited before we even encountered the Turians? That my friend would make you a comatose agent" with a big smile on his lips.

"I see. I suppose you have a point" Giffard said, returning Monarchs smile with a downplayed grin. "So what is it exactly you want me to do?"

"I want you to go to his house and investigate it thoroughly. I want you to see if you can find anything proving it wasn't suicide. I want you to see if you can find anything leading to his killer. Also, look for any kind of evidence that might lead to the leak in his department. When and if evidence has been found, remove it from the scene and bring it to my office. Just make sure none of our other agents on the scene see you removing anything. That could put both of us in serious trouble" Monarch said.

He had a strong, awe-inspiring charismatic face when he was being very serious about something, the small furrows around his eyes becoming very obvious, reminding you that he was a strong man of much experience. It was not hard to understand why the Alliance had named him the Managing Director of ASIS.

"And should I get caught?..." Giffard asked with a calm voice.

"I will take full responsibility, but I can't promise you your safety" Monarch explained him, looking his old friend of many years in the eye, letting him know that such a scenario was to be avoided.

"I'll have a look at it" Bradford replied. "Where does he live?"

"Chartwell Road in Oakville, not far from Toronto. I will have my chauffeur drive you to the exact address"

"Fine. I will investigate the scene. See whichever leads I can find" Giffard said. "I shall call you once I am done"

"Oh, one more thing before you go, Brad" Monarch interjected.

"Yes?"

"Don't take any stupid risks. Anderson was one fine Intelligence Officer to lose. I don't want to lose two" Monarch said, extinguishing the fire in his cigar.

"Understood. I shan't take any" Spider said. He the turned around and walked out the door with hasteful steps.

As Spider left the building, his thoughts ran wild inside his head. He wondered what was it that Anderson had wanted to discuss just yesterday. He wondered if it could have been the thing that had gotten him killed. Spider had not mentioned anything about his encounter with Anderson to Monarch and had done so on purpose. Monarch was right. No-one was to be trusted. Not even Monarch. Anderson had been a high-ranking officer within ASIS and whoever could take him out, could surely also get rid of Spider or Monarch, were they not careful.

He took his portable telephone from his vest pocket and dialed his assistant's number as he went down the gray stone stairs at the Centre Block's south-eastern corner. The phone rang for a while before a recently awoken Gerard Spooner picked it up.

"Gera' Spoo'er 'ere" he mumbled slurring his words.

"Good morning, Gerard. I trust I do not interrupt you in doing anything important" he said coldly.

"Spider! No, no of course not" he yawned and sat himself up in the bed. "I was just... getting out the door"

"Good. I need to see you at the crossing between Chartwell Road and Pinewood Avenue in Oakville. Would you kindly meet me there in say... half an hour?" Spider said, masking his command as a question. He had a habit of doing that.

Gerard sighed. "Yes of course, sir" he agreed.

"Good. I will see you there, then" the old man on the other end said and hung up. Gerard put the phone back on the bedside table and fell back into his bed. Boy, was this just what he needed. He had been sitting in a dark room all week watching surveillance footage from the embassies and had really been seeing forward to the weekend. While he did not like being called in on a weekend, Gerard had a great amount of respect for his boss and got out of bed as fast as he could. Spider might have been an introvert loner of few words and a memory had made it difficult to believe that he was not transhuman or autist, but once you got to know him, he was a kind and mild-mannered man. You just had to look beyond the cold exterior of the old-fashioned three-piece suits, the big, ugly glasses and the graying, slicked-back hair.

He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He spat out the foam of the toothpaste into the sink and stared into the mirror, studying his face. His transhumanism was quite obvious, his irises being deep yellow, but these gave him the eyesight of a hawk. His arms were mechanical and unattractive to many, but they gave him the strength of a bull. Such was the life of an 'augmented asset' within ASIS. You had to pay with around 63% of all your flesh and live with being less of a looker. Yet, at the end of the day it was worth it. Few others could solve complex mathematics in their heads or could lift five times their own bodyweight.

He combed his mop-top hair and put on his clothes. He wore a suit with a slightly slimmer fit than that of his colleagues and superiors in ASIS, being slightly modern and rebellious, without seeming provocative or tacky. Most of his friends were not as conservative as many of his superiors, but besides the fact that the suit and tie were mandated by official dress-code, he had enough respect for his bosses as to not wear the psychedelic prints, highlighter colours, and mismatched patterns of his friends' attires.
Many seemed to dislike the clothes, music and general rebelliousness of the newer generation. They valued cleanliness and order, something that was rather against the new ideals of the new generation. Spooner found Spider hard to read and what exactly the thought about it was hard to tell. Even with the expensive social augmentations that enabled him to see through most people, Giffard seemed like a silent enigma. His take on the dawning of the new era of Man was hard to figure out.

"You are late" Spider said and corrected his glasses slightly, studying the big manor in front of him whilst Gerard exited his car, which he had parked in the driveway. He stood with his side to his young assistant, not sparing him a single look.

"My bad, Giffard. I got caught in traffic" he said, now standing right next to Spider, looking at the very same building has he was. Spider was wearing a black three-piece suit and his gloves as usual. His red tie and a long overcoat fluttered in the winds as cold currents blew past him. He didn't seem to freeze at all, even though Gerard had goosebumps all over his body.

"Well, Fuck off... Now that's what I call a house. It's got to be a real rich bloke who's living in there" Gerard said, looking upon the great majestic exterior of Finch's house. The house sported a southern antebellum look, with neo-classical ionic pillars supporting the entablature, carrying the Hellenistic roof that covered the central entryway. It was mostly made of fine, white marble and had an almost hallowed aura to it as it reflected the sunlight, almost blinding you with its brightness.

"You should mind your language, Spooner. But yes... It is a nice house" Spider answered.

"I'm guessing we're about to pull a black bag, aren't we?" the young man asked, admiring the fine crystal widows that served as the only dark spots on the otherwise completely spot-less façade.

"Not today, no. In that case I would have brought more men. I brought you here to investigate a crime scene" Spider answered.

"Crime scene? Like... a murder scene?" Spooner asked.

"Perhaps. That is what we are here to find out" The old man answered, still looking at the fetching exterior of the building.

"Damn. Who bit the dust?" Spooner asked his boss.

"His name was Anderson Finch. Perhaps you have heard of him; he was one of the other members The Penthouse" Giffard answered him, finally turning towards Spooner.

"Bugger me! The guy from DipRep? Yeah, I knew him. I've got a friend who works in his department. I heard he had problems with leaks" Spooner said.

"Which is also partly the reason we are here. Monarch thinks his death might have had something to do with the leaks. I can only second that. We shall be looking for evidence of leaks inside his department, too. If he really was murdered, I think it is likely that he found the mole in his department and was killed by the traitor before he could report who it was to Centre Block" Giffard said, slightly bemused.

Spooner looked at the house once again.

"I see. But how would the mole know it's cover had been blown?" Spooner asked

"Honestly, I have no idea. I was hoping that we might find that out today" Giffard said, as he began walking up the lawn, towards the door. Spooner followed him in his tracks.

A man in black and white stepped out the entrance of the house, carrying a box with paper files. He paid the pair of Giffard and Spooner no attention as the went towards the entryway.

"There are others here?" Spooner asked.

"Yes, but they are not here for the same as we are. They are removing all confidential files from the house before the police move in" Giffard explained, trying to calm Spooner down a little.

"Oh, they are our guys, then" Spooner half-concluded.

"Yes, but I do not want you to talk to them or ask them for help in investigating" Giffard said.

"Why not?" Spooner asked with a confounded expression upon his face.

"Because we are about to do something quite illegal" Giffard said in a lowered voice, making sure no one heard him as he told his assistant what they were there for.

"What?" Spooner asked, his eyes widening as he was taken completely aback by this sudden reveal. He had never done anything illegal in the line of duty and had never though that Giffard would do it either.

"If we come across anything that would lead us to the identity a mole, we shall remove it from the crime scene" Giffard explained further. "Monarch's orders".

"I see. If we don't, the mole might get tipped off by the police report"

Without uttering a word, Giffard confirmed Spooner's conclusion as correct with a nod of his head.

The couple went up to the fine red ash door and swung it open. Inside, a neat entry hall of red and white revealed itself, in all its Italian-inspired glory and beauty. A statue stood on the red floor in the middle of a room, showing of its strong masculine body to anyone who entered the doors. Green bindweed crawled down the white walls and made a lively contrast that almost made the room, why, the building itself, come alive. Roman emperors would have envied a palace like this, despite the smaller size.

"Halt! Identify yourselves!" a bald agent with extensive augmentations and sunglasses yelled as he saw the young aug and old man enter the door. Giffard found his papers from his pocket.

"Sir Bradford Giffard, Officer of Intelligence, Alliance Secret Intelligence Services, Military Intelligence: Section 5. The young man next to me is Special Agent Gerard Spooner, my assistant" he said and held up his ID.

"Oh. I see. Well, help yourselves to whatever you might need from this house. Just remember not to leave any personal effects behind" the bald agent said. He didn't look like he suspected them of anything, in fact, his face lit up when the identified themselves as friends.

"We shan't" Giffard replied as friendly as he could.

"Good. Is there any way I may help you, then?" the bald agent asked them.

"Well, yes. I presume the body is in the bedroom?" Giffard said.

"Yes, but I must ask you not to touch anything if you go up there. We don't want anyone disturbing the crime scene before the police gets here" the agent said and shook his head to emphasize how big a no-no touching anything up there was.

"We just need to retrieve some papers from up there. We shall be quick" Giffard said.

"Fine. Just... watch your step, sir" the agent said a took a slight bow.

"Understood" Giffard said.

Giffard and Spooner went up the fine white marble stairs, making their way upstairs. They went through the massive mahogany door, revealing the huge bedroom of red and dark. The dark ash king-size canopy bed with rosewood linens in the middle of the room contrasted the white walls greatly and gave the room a certain sense of erotic warmth. Near the window on the far side of room, lied the horribly mauled body of Anderson on the fine persian carpet. His head had almost been blown clean of, making it very hard to identify him, shouldn't you have been told that it was indeed him. The blood had made a perversely large splatter mark on the window in front of him, reddening the light inside the room.

"Geez" Gerard exclaimed. "His head popped like fucking zit!"

"Mass-effect driven weaponry will do that to you" Giffard said, starring at the corpse of the deceased Anderson Finch.

"Mass-effect driven? The Alliance has yet to get their hands on those..." Spooner said. "You don't think Frog Man or OSSR is behind this, do you?"

"No, not necessarily. Hitmen and higher-ups within ASIS have access to weaponry like that, we just keep it a well-kept secret. Officially, humans are disallowed by the council to posses technology beyond what we have developed ourselves"

"So... You are in possession of a cannon like that?" The young assistant asked him.

"I have one at home, yes" Giffard answered.

"Then, exactly why do I faff about with a gunpowder-propelled peashooter that can't even penetrate the kinetic barriers of alien armour, when I'm the one that's supposed to protect you, should we find ourselves in a firefight?" the young assistant complained to his boss.

"Well... To be frank, it is a bit above your paygrade to be in possession of something that could get the entire human race in trouble, should you be caught with it" Giffard explained, slightly amused as he could see the illogical nature of Spooner's status as Giffard's bodyguard.

"You know me; I never get caught, Gif" the assistant said. "So where do we begin, sir?"

"Well" Giffard said, scanning the room with his eyes, trying to spot anything that looked out-of-place. "If you can investigate it without stepping in the blood, I would like you to have a look at the gun in his hand" he said and pointed to the blemished remains of Finch.

"Okay" Gerard said and stepped over to body, avoiding large chunks of brain matter on his way, and crouched before it, looking at the gun in the victim's hand.

"It looks like a gun, alright" he said, not knowing what exactly he was looking for. "Also, it has blood on it, meaning it might be the weapon that killed Sir Finch here"

"If you are not to busy wise-cracking, maybe you can check for a little yellow spot on the handle?" Giffard asked.

Gerard used his x-ray vision to check through the hand and have a look at the handle.

"Yes sir, it does indeed have a little yellow dot on it" the assistant said.

Giffard remained in silence.

"What does this mean, exactly?" the young Spooner asked.

"Well, It means that it is indeed his own gun. Mine has a red, Monarch's a blue. It's a colour code we use to make sure we can track the guns back to their owners" Spider said, deeply within his own thoughts.

"Is here any signs of struggle?" Spider asked. Gerard paused a little before answering.

"I can check for bruises but since he is black, it'll be a little hard to tell. I'll check though" Gerard answered.

Gerard tried to use his x-ray vision on the victims arms, but it didn't work.

"Damn. My SmartVision module doesn't work on his clothes" Spooner said.

"Of course" Giffard said. "Penthouse members all have special-made concealing clothes that can't be seen through"

"Wait. Isn't that kind of a dead give-away, then?" Gerard asked and tured his head towards Giffard while remaining crouched.

"What do you mean?" Giffard asked.

"Well, won't people know that you're spies the second they try use smart-vision on you, then?"

"We only wear these kind of clothes on special occasions. They are worn whenever we have meetings in Penthouse. We had a meeting just yesterday, so he probably died before he even had the chance to change" Giffard explained.

"Well, how am I supposed to check for bruises, then?"

"Carefully" Giffard said in his monotonous voice, scanning the room once again. Gerard rolled Anderson's sleeve up very carefully, making sure the gun did not fall out of his hand. He came upon something that sparked his curiosity.

"Well, here's something, Sir. It seem he does have bruises on his wrists" Gerard said..

Spider remained silent. Looking at the room, it did not look like a fight had taken place in there, yet the splatter on the window quite clearly indicated that this was the scene of death. He went up to the neatly carved wooden bedside table, glancing over the smart alarm clock and the fruitbowl teeming with deceptive, fake fruit. Two small rectangular pieces of paper dwelled on the table, catching Spider's attention. He picked them up and read the words and numbers on them before pocketing them. He scanned the floor and came upon something not very far from him. A little pile of white ash rested just next to the large bed. Spider walked over to it, picking a little of it up with his index finger and his thumb. He corrected his glasses with his other hand and studied the ashes carefully.

"Gerard" he said, calling for his assistant.

"Yes, sir?" Spooner answered.

"Could you please come over here?"

Gerard came over to his boss with a curious expression on his face.

"What is it, sir?" Spooner asked.

"Take a look at this" Spider said and nodded at the little pile of ash.

"Ash. That's odd. Do you want me to run a quick analysis?" Spooner asked.

"Please do" Spider said.

Spooner took the glove of his left hand, revealing the mechanical hand prosthesis underneath. A hole in the end of his index finger opened and a small nozzle revealed itself. He used this to suck up a few grains of the dust.

"That's odd. This is Lithium Peroxide..."

Spider kept staring at his assistant waiting for him to continue.

"It can be used as an air-purifier to clear out carbon dioxide... Alternatively, it can also be residue left over from someone using a biotic amplifier"

"Bag the rest of it. We will need to take it with us" Spider said.

Spider looked from the little white pile of dust to the corpse. He tapped himself three times on his forehead before looking back at his assistant.

"Do you see those bags over there by the closet?" he asked his assistant. Spooner took a look at the packed bags with clothes and apparel, that stood near the bedroom closet.

"Yes. Seems like he was packing his stuff, sir"

"It does indeed" the old man said putting his hands behind his back.

"Why would Finch be packing his bags if he were intending on killing himself?"

"That's right... You think maybe a biotic killed him by forcing his hand to pull the trigger?" the young Spooner asked.

Spider smirked a little. "It seems likely, to say the least. What is odd, it that he never mentioned anything about going away" he said and corrected his tie a little.

Spider pointed at the bags.

"Would you be as kind as to open one of the bags and search its contents"

"Can do, Sir" He said and went over to the bags. He opened and rummaged through it. He pulled out knitted sweater after blue jeans, almost emptying the bag before he came upon something of interest. He pulled it from the bag and held the vesture up by its shoulders, presenting it to Giffard.

"A dress" Spooner said, studying the fine embroidered silk dress. "I wonder what this was doing down there".

Spider surveyed it with his eyes. It looked very expensive and was woven from some of the finest thin red silk one could imagine. It had a long collar, long sleeves and was of ancle-lenght, looking like the dress of a sensual yet modest woman. A delicate pattern of gold and black stretched itself from the lower back, over the left shoulder and ended at the left breast.

"It's a cheongsam. No way Finch would have fit this, so we can rule out the possibility of it being his"

"Indeed we can" Spider said and stared at it for a little while. He eyed the dress for a few more seconds.

"Put the dress on the bed and close the blinds. I want to check something" he said. Carefully Gerard stepped over to the window and did at his boss had asked to him, dimming the light inside the bedroom significantly. Spooner minded his steps as he walked back to Giffard.

"Shed some black light on it" Giffard commanded Spooner, nodding at the dress with his hands in his pockets.

"Understood, Sir" Spooner said and peeled the other glove off. He activated a lamp in his palm and changed the frequency of the light to Ultra Violet. As he lit the dress up with the invisible light, telling white spots lit up on the chest and the crotch area of the dress, like tiny white pearls in an ocean of sin.

"I certainly hope it's not his daughter's" Spooner said with a boyish grin on his lips. Giffard observed the small flourescent spots, reflecting in his glasses like the stars in the heavens.

"Especially since this is not a human article of clothing" Spider said without even looking at Spooner.

"What?" Spooner asked and turned his head to Spider.

"This is not a cheongsam at all. It is a 'loak', a traditional Asari dress. This one belongs to one in the 'matron' stage of her life, judging by the embroidery" he explained, turning his face towards Spooner.

"An asari dress?" Spooner asked.

"Yes. A very expensive one at that" the old man nodded. Spooner tilted his head as he looked at it.

"Wait... How do you know all this?" Spooner asked. "You know nothing about fashion"

"I know a little. I have a lady-friend on the Citadel who knows a lot about alien clothing" Giffard said.

"You have lady-friends?" Spooner asked teasingly.

Giffard smiled slightly. Spooner liked when Giffard found his badgering amusing. It made the otherwise very expressionless and gray man light up a little.

"Fold the loak and pocket it" Giffard commanded.

"What? It's got spunk on it!"

"We have no time to argue" Spider said.

"Fine, fine... Just, next time we snatch something from a murder scene with somebody's man-cream on it, it goes in your pocket, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear" Spider replied. Spooner folded the fine dress and put it in his pocket, not five seconds passed by before the bald agent from the entry-hall came in the door, nearly catching them in the act of removing evidence from the crime scene. Spooner twitched slightly out of shock but Giffard remained as calm as a rock.

"We're leaving the building now. The police will be here soon" the slaphead agent said. "I suggest you two get out of here"

"Actually, we were just on our way out" Giffard said.

"Oh, okay then. You found what you guys were searching for?"

"I am afraid not. We will just have to look elsewhere" Giffard answered, still as cool as ever.

"I'm sorry mate. Well, I'll be going. Have a good day" the bald agent said

"Good day to you" Giffard replied

"We have to go now, Spooner. Pack the bag we opened and let us get out of here" Spider commanded.

Spooner followed orders.

The two partners walked out to Spooner car and entered it, Spooner taking the wheel.

"So, where do we go now?" Spooner asked.

"Centre Block. Monarch will be awaiting us as his office" Giffard said while typing something on his cell-phone.

"Wait... So I get to meet Monarch in person?" Spooner asked.

"Yes. I am sure you will find it quite underwhelming, though" Giffard said with one of those gratified smiles, that told one that something in what he had said was funny and only he knew why. Spooner felt quite happy. Giffard must've trusted him, if he let him meet Monarch in person.

Spooner lit the engine and took off. After having plotted the route to Centre Block on his GPS, he turned on the radio, tuning in on 'Radio Wylde' with its barb-wire guitar bands and potty-mouth disc-jockey. Giffard, however was quick to reach over and turn the dial until the speakers spewed out the soothing notes of Bach.

The radio made it hard for him to think so he turned it of. As relaxing as Monarch found classical music, it did not help him take decisions. He sat at his desk looking through some reports from Military Intelligence and Clandestine Operations. It was beyond him how deep-cover operations could be so expensive and why Mister Walliam and Sir Fitzgerald needed so many funds for their departments. However, he knew that if he did not approve their budgets, Triangle would gain an edge on them. He signed the two documents, granting the two departments the extra funds they were requesting, shameful in the knowledge he was using fund that could have been used for hospitals, roads, eldercare et cetera. Being the MD of ASIS was not always the privilege one should think it would be, and at the end of the day, it was hard not to feel a little blue over all the cynical decisions you had to make. He scanned the two pieces of paper in the scanner on his large wooden desk and mailed the copies to Alliance Military HQ. He leaned back into his large, leather armchair and sighed.

Suddenly, the intercom buzzed.

"Yes?" Monarch asked.

"There are two gentlemen asking to see you. Should I send them up?" asked the receptionist.

"Could I have their names, please?" Monarch said. A brief minute went by with silence on the intercom.

"Their ID's show them to be Sir Bradford Giffard and Mister Gerard Ambrosius Spooner. Should I send them up?"

"Yes, please do" Monarch replied.

Five minutes later, Giffard and Spooner popped their heads in through the big, heavy door.

"Brad. Good to see you" Monarch said, happy to see Giffard. "What have you got for me?"

Giffard looked to Spooner and nodded his head. Spooner understood Spider's gesture and took the folded dress from his pocket and threw it put it on Monarch's desk.

"A loak?" Monarch asked with a puzzled look in his face. "Where did you find this?"

"In a packed bag. It would seem that our friend Finch was looking to go somewhere before he was killed" Giffard said.

"Killed? So we're certain that this wasn't suicide?" Monarch asked, leaning his elbows on the desk and folding his hands in front of his face.

"It is very likely that he did not kill himself. While he pulled the trigger himself, we suspect foul play" Giffard said. "We found what I identified as Lithium Peroxide in the room, suggesting that mass-effect driven telekinesis might have been involved in his death. Moreover, he had bruises on the hand that was holding the gun" Spooner added

"Also, we think he might have been planning to travel with a lover, whom might be staying in the area. Trace amounts of semen was found on the loak" Spooner said.

Monarch pondered a little and scratched his cheek.

"Fine. Do we have any idea what the name of this lover is and where they were going? Can we rule out that it wasn't just one of those hip, new smart people from the Citadel who dress themselves in Alien fashion?"

"Yes. We do" Giffard said and took the two little rectangular pieces of paper from his vest-pocket and put them on top of the loak. Monarch read the contents of the two pieces of paper as Giffard stood silently and waited for Monarch to finish. Spooner stood in dumbstruck silence, but this was out of shock He had had no idea that Giffard had taken anything else from the crime scene.

"Two tickets for a shuttle to the Citadel... One with Anderson's name on it..." Monarch said, pausing before he went on.

"The other with an Asari name..." he said and looked up at Giffard.

"Ié T'Soni..." Giffard said, finishing Monarch's sentence. The two starred at each other, standing in silence. After a while Spooner couldn't help himself and broke the silence.

"Excuse me, but what exactly does this mean?" he asked.

"Ié T'Soni" Monarch explained. "Is one of the many known aliases of Denmana Nassus, an Asari super-spy, as high-ranking within the League of Huntresses as Giffard is within this bureau"

"Damn... that would explain the leaks in his department. The League caught him in a Venus flytrap and he spilled the beans, allowing them to pass on the information unto Frog Man and OSSR" Spooner concluded.

"Well, that would be convenient, but it's unlikely" Monarch said.

"What?" Spooner said. "Would they not pass this kind of information on to the other members of Triangle?"

"No. While they might have their little meetings to keep up an illusion of cooperation between them, their infighting is intense. They wouldn't try to hinder something that could prove harmful to any of the other parties" Monarch explained.

"So you do not think it is through her information was passed from DipRep to OSSR?" Spooner asked.

"Not directly, at least. I must admit, however, that it is very odd that she seems to have seduced Mr. Finch in a time where much information is being leaked from his department" Monarch declared. "I must admit, I wonder what she was doing here and what she has to do with Finch's death"

"Maybe we should go ask her" Giffard said.

"Good idea, but tracking her down might be hard" Monarch said.

"Call Richards down in the Electronic Data Processing Department and ask him to run a search for a 'Ié T'soni', who has checked into a hotel in either Maine, Quebec or Ontario" Giffard said.

"Good idea" Monarch said and pressed a button on the intercom.

"Yes, how can I help?" a voice on the other end asked.

"Hi Richards. Can you please see if an 'Ié T'Soni' has checked into a hotel in either Maine, Quebec or Ontario?" Monarch said.

"Just a minute..." The man said. The three men in the office waited a brief while before the voice in the intercom spoke again.

"Got it! There was a Ié T'Soni who has stayed at the Crown and Thistle Hotel by the corner of Elm Street and University Avenue in Toronto. She failed to check in yesterday" Richards said. Silence befell the three agents in Monarch's office.

"Well... That sounds like our guy" Spooner said.

"It sure does" Monarch said.

"I want you to go to the address and search for any and all clue you can find. If we're lucky, she didn't get everything with her"

Spider agreed with a nod of his head. Soon after, he turned the door-knob to room 503 and entered. The staff of the hotel had been as kind as to allow Spooner to bring his firearm with him, after Giffard had explained them that they were with Alliance secret police. You never knew when guns and bullets came handy, when dealing with biotics. Especially if you could take them off-guard.

They were met with a hotel room that was left an absolute mess. Papers with numbers and notes were littered all over the floor. The bed had not been made and it looked very much like someone had left the place in a hurry. Spooner went in the door with his gun drawn. He fumbled the wall, trying to find the switch. He found it and turned on the light.

"I give rocks to protocol, woman! If you're in here, show yourself! Don't try anything stupid or so god help me, I'll shoot your face clean off!" he yelled. There was no response. The couple went into the room, Giffard walking calmly with his hands in his pockets while Spooner was much more on guard.

Spooner went on to check the bathroom and all nooks and crannies of the room, to make sure the matron was not hiding, having his gun drawn and in front of him the whole time.

"Relax, Spooner. Had she been here, she would already have attacked us" Giffard said with a calm demeanor.

"Rather safe than sorry" Spooner replied, holstering his Glock. Giffard knelt down and inspected at some of the papers lying on the floor.

"Had she attacked us, your gun could have done little to save us" Giffard asked, picking up a note, before deeming it irrelevant and putting it back on the floor. Spooner looked around the room. It didn't look like there was anything noteworthy in here. He noted a laptop on the bedside table and went over to it.

"I fear that most of these papers are merely her files on important personnel inside ASIS. While it tells us exactly how much the Asari know about us, it will not help us with much else" Giffard said, going through the pages. "luckily, it seems that they know very little about me and much less about you"

Spooner leaned over the computer. He had unlocked it with his cranial hacking-implant and was reading something off the monitor. Preoccupied, he failed to comment on Giffard's statement, something that was not very common. Bewildered, all he could do was look at the screen, as it cast light on his face.

"Sir, I think you should take a look at this" Spooner said. Giffard turned his attention and rose. Slowly, he walked over to the computer and read off the screen.


23-nov-2168 (three days ago)

[LeagueAutoPingSecure_CHNNL_5][SECURITYSTATUS_CHANNEL: SAFE]
ESTBLSH_CNNCTN ; [10.12.34 (HQ)] ; [15.11.79 (Dnmana)]

[Connection: Established]

[HQ][19:03] Hi.

[HQ][19:03] I need you to abort your mission. we have a situation on our hands.

[Dnmana][19:03] wghat?

[HQ][19:03] the source just contacted me. says your cover has been blown

[Dnmana][19:03] what?! fuck1 how?

[Dnmana][19:03] now what?

[HQ][19:04] source didnt say how just that finch knows

[HQ][19:04] but

[Dnmana][19:04] fuck

[HQ][19:04] source tells me that anderson is not planning on telling on you

[Dnmana][19:04] get me out of here!

[Dnmana][19:04] wat?

[HQ][19:04] the loser thinks he can defect to thessia with u

[HQ][19:04] made arragements with councillor herself

[Dnmana][19:05] ha ha ha! lol! :P

[HQ][19:05] u siure have done a good job of fuclking the senses out of him

[HQ][19:05] anywat, u need to get out of there fast

[Dnmana][19:05] u dont say

[HQ][19:05] but

[HQ][19:05] i need u to kill anderson first. we can take care of spider, monarch and barghast later.

[HQ][19:05] source said that would be for thr best

[HQ][19:06] also make it look like anaccident

[HQ][19:06] or you might get that creep spider on your tail

[Dnmana][19:06] I can handle spider; almost me after palaven incident but i outsmated him

[Dnmana][19:07] just an old four eyed loser, thats all

[HQ][19:07] him and monarch, theyre a greatr threat than ossr, just keep that in mind

[HQ][19:11] u there?

[Dnmana][19:12] Srry someone called me

[Dnmana][19:12] i'll take care or it. send a shuttle to pick me up in 2 days.

[HQ][19:13] ok. may the godess protect u.

[Dnmana][19:12] thnx

[Connection: Disengaged]


There was a silence before Giffard finally breached it with his deep, calm voice. "We should probably show this to Monarch"