The next morning came fast almost surprising for the people of Petropolis. It was like the cold winter sun just popped up on the sky this morning. Just two days until it was the 25th of December and just one day before the every year obsequies of the Petropolis massacre. The year before the coming holidays had outweighed the melancholy you feel about such event but this year to many old wounds which seemed to be healed were reopened.
The worst thing about it was that it was always the same. The bad guy escaped and left a couple of corpses. That was the thing the chief hated about his job. Sometimes the story never gets a satisfying end. Just corpses and confused people who ask the same question again and again. Why? Why all the dead? Why all this madness?
And they all asked him. Like he had the answer for everything. Like he had the key to explain all the reasons. In the end he was just another perplex sheep in the crowed which was joining in their choir.
Disillusion and tiredness sprawled where once dynamism and panache lived in him.
But all the chaos of the last days showed him something. It was time for him. Time to pass the key to this office to someone else as long he could. He finally signed the papers who lay for so long untouched in his drawers. Kitty would be a great new chief, he was sure about that. Even if he still had the fear that she would end up alone like him he finally understood that he couldn´t protect her forever.
She was old enough to life her own life, to walk her own path. And wherever this path would lead her, the chief just hoped that she would have never look back with sadness. He hoped that she would be stronger than him and take a better path.
The chief packed his stuff. Everything that was on the table wandered into a brown paper box. Some things he laid into the box very quick but some things he held in his hand for a while and reminisced. A picture of him and his first partner while they captured their first villain kept him in memories a bit longer.
If he could give Kitty just one piece of advice before she start as new chief it would be that she should definitely go on field missions. The chief realized one thing while being the chief. Paperwork is boring. Reading a five pages long report that justifies why an agent pulled his gun out is not as exciting as it sounds.
The paper work takes everything of you with the time. Especially your courage. There were nights the chief wished he had more of it. Even if that maybe meant that he would be dead now. It´s always the courage that kills the agents and after years of paper work you lose it... like your integrity.
As it knocked on the door the chief was glad that he would get a short break from all this thinking.
"Enter." He ordered and Keswick stepped into the room.
"Morning chief." He yawned tired until he saw the brown box on the table. Keswick knew what that meant. "Really?"
"Yep, really." Confirmed the chief the unbelieving gaze he received from Keswick. "It´s time to sail on. My time as the chief will end in a month. Oh, and from now on you can stop calling me chief. You can call me Herbert."
"Wow that sounds somehow s..s..strange. But let´s try it Herbert." The way Keswick said the name of the chief sounded like he was trying to spit out something.
"We should practice that." Meant the chief in view of this failed talk attempt. "Anyway, what´s the matter Keswick?"
"The whole s..s..situation is the matter! Scratch is still free and this agent Young is still around. Call me crazy but I still don´t trust this g..g..guy. There is a mystery about that guy."
"And what do you want me to do now?"
"I want you to do what every T.U.F.F. a..a..agent should do. Solve t..t..this case!" Keswick beat his fist on the chief´s empty table. "Or at least take care that Y..Y..Young disappears. It´s hard enough for Kitty to deal with Dudley´s death without having this Dudley look-a-like around!"
The chief sighed. Keswick was right not only that it was hard for Kitty to have Young around he reminded also him on this stupid happy dog which he was missing. He grabbed the phone and dialed the number of an old friend and former partner who was working at the NSA. As the hoarse voice answered the phone the chief couldn´t resist smiling in nostalgia.
"Baker."
"Hey Matt, Herbert here."
"Herb? Is that really you?" the voice sounded surprised and happy at the same time. "How have you been? Oh my god that must have been five years now since we saw each other. You´re still at T.U.F.F.?"
"I´m fine. And yes, still at T.U.F.F.. You know me I´m not the kind of guy who is getting around. Also being the chief here is pretty nice."
"Yeah, you stay your ground." Laughed the voice from the other side of the line. "Even if you're the chief for a pretty long time now… Man, I remember the times when they changed them every five years. But at least they have the best man for a permanent chief. Anyway my friend, what can I do for you? I think you didn´t call just to reminisce about the good old times."
"Indeed. I need a few information about one of your agents. Agent Young."
"Well my friend, you have to be a bit more precisely." The voice said. "We have I think about six dozen agent Young here."
"I don´t have more… just that he´s here at T.U.F.F." admitted the chief bewildered.
"Well that´s impossible." Stated the voice sternly.
"What do you mean?"
"Haven´t you heard about the fiasco in north Afghanistan?" asked the voice confused, actually Herbert should have known about this incident. It got around in the spy scene. "Our whole operation there was uncovered. Right now we have withdrew all agents from every operation back to the HQ to protect them. Also every single agent Young."
"Wait, do you mean that…"
"It´s possible that this guy isn´t the man he pretends to be" completed the voice the chief´s sentence "… but I can speak of course just about operations and agents that are working under the low to mid security level. What happens on the higher levels is unknown to me."
"Okay, thanks Matt."
"Any time Herb." Said the voice and ended the conversation. Pensively looked the chief to Keswick who had understood the most of the conversation.
"I knew that s..s..something was wrong with the guy" he growled angry.
"Well that isn´t proofed yet." The chief pulled his phone close to him and picked up the speaker. "But soon."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you will go and get me a lot of coffee. That stuff will keep me in a good mood while I suck up to a few high rank military guys." Explained the chief and dialed a number.
Like already mentioned for most people the morning came fast but for a few the night wasn´t over yet. And for Scratch it felt like the night would maybe never end. He sat there on the bed in the stuffy motel room and stared out of his bloodshot eyes at the wall. It was over. His past finally mange it to get him and destroy the present.
And that was all his fault. He poked the dragon and now he had to witness how everything burns under his mighty breath. In this moment he remembered that what he said to Kitty. That this is a game of giants… He realized now that he was no giant too.
Scratch sighed and his eye wandered to the bottle of wine on his table. 'In vino veritas', in wine there is the truth. That´s at least what the old Latins said. They were right. Scratch realized now that his whole plan was doomed to fail. How could he even think that it would happen like he imagined?
Stealing this documents walking into the T.U.F.F. HQ discredit him by unmasking him, revealing the whole conspiracy and then proof everything with the files. That was a lousy plan for Scratch´s standards. But collecting all that stuff took so much time that there was just not enough to think of something better. Time was the only thing that was missing in his whole plan. A month more and he had maybe got him on another way. A month more and Nefarius would still be alive.
The thought was pure torture for him. Knowing that he could have saved his friend if was more careful. The first thing his mind did was of course search the fault somewhere else. It was Parva who hadn´t searched Kitty right and Scratch screamed at her loudly and angrily until Seneca stepped protecting in front of her and pushed him back.
His words still echoed in his head. "Leave her alone! It was just your fault!"
He was right. It was really a bad idea to let the newbie search the hostage in such a critical mission. Scratch could have sent Nefarius or Seneca but he sent Parva. Also his idea to leave one of her arms untied so that she could eat was idiotic. What was wrong with him? He has been making a lot more mistakes since it seemed that Nemesis came to an end.
An end that was now unreachable. Even though he had everything, all the evidences, all the files, all the photos he couldn´t use them. Who would believe him now? His enemy could move now under the T.U.F.F. agents without his masquerade and without the fear of getting caught.
Scratch stood up from the chair just to flop down on the bed again. If he could just close his eyes now and pretend that this would be a dream. He wished he could have the omnipotence of a god to just turn back time and forget about this whole Nemesis plan. He had numerous chances to kill this guy, why hadn´t he just done it? It would be so easy. Ramming the knife into the chest, breaking his neck or just shoot him.
A lot of people would be still alive if he had chosen the simple way. But no, he wanted a show. He wanted to catch him and that everybody sees the dragon he had caught. A villain that was trying to be a hero… it´s easier to fall then to rise, he knew that now.
Of course his reason weren´t just egoistic. He also wanted to avenge those who couldn´t avenge them self, revenge for the weak that can´t help themselves. He also wanted to catch the ones who are capable. The culprit and the men behind. He needed him alive to get the mentioned men behind, that was the problem. If it weren´t the problem a knife would be deep in his throat already.
But where did this all bring him? Here, on this bed, alone. Of course there was one last chance to achieve what he wanted but that would be risky. And Scratch didn´t know if he was ready to risk more. He maybe lost two people now but his plan could cost much more lifes… lifes that would maybe even end without is intervention. That was the question, will T.U.F.F. be able to put two and two together?
Scratch felt numb and tired as he leaned back to lie on the bed. But he couldn´t sleep. It was like the sandman was trying to punish him for what he did.
Scratch didn´t move in his sadness. He didn´t even move as the door opened and someone entered.
"Hey, Scratch" greeted Parva softly. She had this tone of voice that you could call in cotton packed cotton candy. "I´m just here to apologize for… the whole thing."
"You don´t need to apologize… it was my fault and not yours. I´m sorry that I shouted at you kiddo."
Scratch sat up on the bad and gave Parva a forced smile which still could melt an ice block. She wanted to smile back but as she saw Scratch´s eyes she winced. They were bloodshot, yes, but they were also red and swollen. "What´s with your…" she raised her index finger disgusted and pointed in his face.
"Just my contacts… I should remove them from time to time. Just give me a minute in the bathroom and I´ll be fine."
"Maybe your eyes but the rest of you…" she stopped for a second. "I talked to Seneca"
"It´s hard to imagine that you two could talk without fighting…"
"I know." Parva giggled a bit but fall back into this sad mood. "We want to quit. He means that this went way too far and I agree with him."
Scratch didn´t answer. He just sat there. Well, it was clear that the two didn´t want to move on after that and he couldn´t hold anything against that.
"We will drive to Petsburg and watch how they light up the big Christmas tree tomorrow and eat something after that. I always did that with my dad." Parva took a deep breath now that her dad came to her mind. She didn´t want to cry now, it wasn´t the time for that. "We want you to come with us."
Scratch thought about these words. It sounded nice. Having some kind of Christmas dinner, watching how they light up the tree… like a family would do. But could he play alternative family with Seneca and Parva while in Petropolis the doors of heel opening? Wouldn´t be everything in vain then? The last seven years of suffering? Could he really forget the past?
"What do you think?" she asked after a short break.
"I refuse."
"Really?" asked Parva surprised.
"Yeah, even if that sounds nice, I refuse. I can´t stop now. I didn´t come this far to turn around now. I have to bring this to an end. I can´t let these guys win!"
"But is that really necessary? Do you really have to do that."
"My whole existence is geared towards this goal." Explained Scratch sternly. "Yes, it is necessary and yes I have to do this. Or I die trying."
Parva sighed, she knew that she couldn´t change his mind now. He made his decision. All she could do was wishing him the best and say goodbye. "So be it Scratch. I hope that we see again when this is all over… When you survive this all… please give us at least a call." She gave him a hug and left the motel room.
He was lying alone on his bed again. But this time he closed his eyes and began with a new plan. Even if he couldn´t sleep he could at least plan his next step.