Author's Note:
This was originally going to be a short bit on the end of Chapter four, but as I was writing the draft, it grew longer and longer until it was apparent that it was going to have to be it's own chapter. This chapter was extremely hard to write, for various reasons. The end scene is quite crucial, but it took a long time to make the conversation feel natural.
My main problem with writing Reed, is, well, he is a male 25ish year old spy and I am a female high schooler. So sometimes it's hard to gauge how he would respond to some situations.
Just as a warning, this chapter does have violence, specifically murder. I did NOT describe anything in graphic detail, but part of it does get rough. If you want to skip over the rough part. It starts from "When Logan Reed came to, he found that he was tied up in the back of a van" to "Reed woke to a start, practically leaping out of bed." There is a summary at the bottom explaining the skipped parts. Don't worry, I'm not going to make a habit of writing things this extreme. In fact of this entire work, this will probably be the most extreme chapter, everything onwards is action violence.
Reviews are always appreciated.
I own nothing
That same night Reed dreamt of the forest.
This forest was different from the one he grew up in. The sun was a bright beacon beaming down from overhead, not a soft ball hidden behind sheets of grey. The trees were covered in lush foliage instead of snow and ice. The temperature never dropped below a slight chill, even in the winter.
When he first arrived, he had despised the change in temperature. The days were too hot. The nights were not cold enough. He seemed to sweat through his shirt everyday. However after three years in this country, he had grown to tolerate it.
He was currently enjoying one of his favorite pastimes; hunching down in the undergrowth beside the windy old tree and waiting for the train to pass by. It was such a simple thing, but it was the only piece of the outside world he could get. The Wolves had limited his contact with outsiders and he was never allowed to leave the forest. Once on a particularly boring day, he climbed to the very top of the tallest tree he could find. From there he was just able to make out the town of Ukon in the distance. He ended up falling and spraining his wrist, but it was worth it.
To think he had actually been glad when he was first assigned as the White Wolves contact. After all, this liaison position was the backbone of Operation Dagger. Once every three months, his commander came to Amestris with news and sometimes new operatives. The contact was a permanent position assigned to reside with the White Wolves and provide aid as needed. However whenever the commander wasn't in Amestris, the contact was basically a hostage.
One would expect life in a resistance group's camp to be more exciting. However, the Wolves never included him in their discussions or plans. They refused to rely on him for anything. Sometimes, when no one wanted to, they made him fetch the water. But most of the time, they were too paranoid that he might poison them. They didn't even let him hunt. Once he had taken down a deer with only a wooden spear. After everyone had gorged themselves, they yelled at him for making a weapon. So he spent most days taking long walks in the forest or eavesdropping on conversations.
Though he had yet to find out anything important.
The Wolves operated in cells and each cell had limited contact with one another. He didn't have the slightest idea what each cell did. He wasn't even sure what the main cell did and he lived in their camp. The only critical piece of information he discovered was that the Shadow Alchemist had faked his death to join this group. Apparently the man and some of his friends were running operations somewhere south.
There was the sound of rustling leaves behind him.
He froze and cast a wary look over his shoulder. But the moment he located his stalker in the bush, he promptly rolled his eyes.
"Are you trying to sneak up on me again?" he called.
The woman hiding in the undergrowth stood up to face him. She was relatively young with wavy dark brown hair. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and smiled as she approached him.
"What's wrong with trying?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said. "But you're still not getting any better at it."
"Well we all have our strengths," the woman said. "Now come on, the leader wants to speak to you."
"Someone wants to see me?" he asked. "I must be dreaming."
The woman just shook her head.
"Am I in trouble?" he asked.
"No," she said. "You have a visitor."
"Visitor?" the contact asked. It had been less than a month since his commander last visited. "Who are they?"
"Don't know," the woman said.
She extended her hand and helped him get to his feet. They began to walk the path back to camp.
"How did the others react?" he asked.
"It set them on edge," she said. "They think you might have betrayed them."
"Viera," he said. "They always think I might betray them."
"But right now it's actually a reasonable conclusion."
"So why did they only spend one person to collect me?"
Viera smiled devilishly at him and opened up her bag.
"Really now," he said. "After so many years of getting to know each other, you've finally decided to blow me up."
She rolled her eyes, zipping up her bag to cover up the explosive.
"It was just a precaution," she admitted.
Even though Viera was the closest thing he had to a friend, she was still a member of the White Wolves. She had her own orders to follow.
Though he didn't mind. He was so desperate for companionship he would befriend a tree. Who cares if that tree also happened to be an explosives expert.
"So if I did betray you, were you just planning on slinging that bag at me?" he asked.
"I actually put a sticky adhesive to the back of it so that it will attach itself to most cloth. It's a small bomb, small range. If it detonated, it would only damage things within a 8 feet (2.4 meters) radius, give or take. I have a remote detonator so that I could get out of range in time."
"You made this just for me?" he asked. "I'm honored."
Viera shook her head.
"We're actually using this for another mission."
He didn't ask her to elaborate on that. He knew she wouldn't answer if he did.
"You can be terrifying at times," he said instead.
"Well foreign spy," she teased. "I am flattered."
They took the short way back to camp, trampling through the undergrowth. He scanned his eyes through the green trees looking for lingering threats.
"Look over there," he said under his breath.
Viera froze and looked back at him.
"What is it?" she asked, reaching for her bag.
"In between those two trees," he said, pointing in the direction.
"I don't see anything," she said.
"Look closer," he said.
Viera squinted her eyes, trying to glimpse something far in the distance. Slowly she began to see a patch of brown fur peek out from behind a tree.
"A deer?" she asked. "How could you have possibly seen that?"
"I told you my father was a fur trader," he said. "I have an eye for these sorts of things."
Viera pursed her lips.
"Well I wished you would've seen this earlier this morning," she said.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Neither of us can make that shot."
The contact squinted his eyes. The deer was at least 250 feet (76.2 meters) away. On top of that they could only see a sliver of its body. It would be a tricky shot, but not impossible.
"I bet I can make it," he said.
Viera shook her head.
"No you can't."
"Have you ever hunted bears in a snowstorm? Because I have," he said.
"Okay then," Viera said, reaching for her gun. "Do it. But after you shoot, don't come crying to me if half the camp comes charging in here expecting an enemy attack."
The contact looked down.
"Maybe we should just get to camp."
They continued up the path.
They arrived in the camp and entered the central tent. It looked as if everyone had come to see what was going on. The leader of the White Wolves was at the front, his second in command to his right. They appeared to be arguing over something. Viera pushed him forward, bringing them to the front of the crowd.
"I got him," she said to the leader.
The contact quickly located what had caused all the commotion. There was a woman seated in a chair. Even though her hands were bound, she wore an expression of distaste, as if she was merely annoyed with the situation.
"Alright!" the leader of the White Wolves hollered. "Everyone out!"
He pulled Viera and the second in command aside.
"Make sure no one overhears," he said.
As people began to shuffle out of the tent, many shot the contact dirty looks. The contact didn't react, waiting until the only people left were himself, the leader, and the mysterious woman.
"This woman," the leader said. "Came into Ukon this morning. She met up with a member stationed there and requested to be brought here. She said that she needed to speak with the White Wolves' contact." The older man glared at him. "Do you know anything about this?"
He could practically feel the apprehension in the leader's voice. This was a serious breach in protocol and security. If he were in the leader's place, he would be worried too.
That didn't stop his heart from hammering in his chest.
"No," he said truthfully.
He took a tentative step closer to the woman. When the leader didn't object, he leaned down close to whisper in her ear.
"It's a beautiful day," he said.
"Yes, but a bit chilly," she said, sounding relieved.
"You like the cold?" he asked.
"It reminds me of home," she said.
He turned to face the leader.
"She's part of Operation Dagger," he said.
The leader scoffed and turned to the woman. He pulled his gun from his holster, switching it from hand to hand.
"Tell me," he said. "Which country is in charge of Operation Dagger?"
The woman stared him in the eye.
"Drachma," she answered.
The leader narrowed his eyes.
"I bet you could find that out from anywhere," he said, leaning close to her. "But this is something that only Dagger Operatives and I know. Why is Drachma allied with the White Wolves?"
The woman didn't answer. She raised an eyebrow at the contact, as if to ask if this guy was serious. The contact simply shrugged. It wasn't like he had any weight in these situations.
"The White Wolves operate in northeast Amestris, mostly along the border," she said, rolling her eyes. "The Amestrian border with the desert is the easiest spot for Drachman spies to sneak into your country. As the White Wolves are a resistance group, our operation formed an agreement with you. You overlook the spies coming into Amestris and we provide you with intelligence which will help your cause."
The leader nodded.
"So you are with Drachma."
"That's what I told you," the contact said. Seriously, no one ever believed a word he said.
The leader ignored him.
"Why are you here?"
"Well if you would untie me," the woman said. "I would take out the papers and show you."
The leader was silent for a moment, before taking out a knife from his pocket and slicing through the ropes binding her wrists.
"Just know that if I don't walk out of here, my men will kill both of you," he warned.
He took a few steps back and seated himself on a chair. It was far enough to give them some privacy, but not quite out of earshot.
The contact turned back to the woman.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
The woman pulled out a file from inside her jacket. She took a moment to even out the creases before passing a picture to him.
"You have a new assignment," she said.
He looked down at the picture, furrowing his brow. It was a small photograph, similar to the ones used by banks and governments for identification. The man in the photo seemed to be wearing an Amestrian soldier's uniform, but that wasn't what worried him.
What worried him was how similar the man's face was to his own.
"What is this?"
"Your new assignment," she said, gesturing to the picture. "That is Lieutenant Logan Reed. You are going to become him."
His eyes flicked up and he stared at her.
Assuming the identity of an Amestrian soldier?
That was almost unheard of in Operation Dagger. Sometimes spies would enlist to the army and serve on the front lines, but to hold a rank of Lieutenant.
He held the picture up.
"Does this person actually exist?" he asked.
"For now," she said. "But you are going to replace him."
He narrowed his eyes. A full replacement required a lot of variables lining up. Firstly, they needed a soldier who looked like a spy. That was hard enough on its own. Then they needed the soldier to have no friends or family or anyone who would recognize the switch. Afterwards, they needed to cross their fingers and hope that the spy didn't blow their cover.
This was extremely rare, if not nonexistent.
"How can we be sure that nobody will recognize the switch?" he asked.
"We won't until we actually do it, but this one has a very high chance of succeeding. Logan Reed is transferring from West City to East City in a few days. No one in East City should notice."
"And family?" he asked.
"They have been taken care of," she said plainly.
Behind them, the leader scoffed.
"Hey!" the woman called. "You are a leader of a resistance group. Don't judge us!"
"But we don't kill people just so that we can find out a little more information," the leader retorted.
The contact tried to ignore him.
"When do we leave?" he asked.
"Lieutenant Logan Reed plans to arrive in East City the day after tomorrow. We'll have to hurry," she said.
The leader laughed again and stood up.
"Well then, Reed, best to start packing your bags," he mocked.
Reed tried to ignore him.
"Where will the switch take place?" he asked.
The woman looked up at him.
"Parktown."
In just two hours, Reed found himself sitting in the dusty cargo hold of a train. The woman, who was also his new handler, had wanted to get moving as fast as possible. She had only given him ten minutes to pack his things. Not that he minded. He was more than glad to leave that stuffy forest.
For the most part.
Viera had stopped by his tent while he was packing. He heard her enter, but couldn't get himself to look up.
"So you are really leaving, aren't you?" she said.
"Yes."
"Where are you going?" she asked.
He was silent for a moment.
"I cannot tell you."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Viera nod.
"Well anyway, if you ever need help, feel free to swing by," Viera said.
Reed bit his lip.
"I don't think I'm ever coming back here," he admitted.
There was a moment of silence.
"I know," Viera said. "But you can never be so sure. There is a bar in Ukon called the 'Shrunken Tavern' or something. We always have a member stationed there. Ask for Premium Gin on the rocks. They'll understand."
Reed couldn't help it. He chuckled.
"I'll miss you," he said, not comprehending what he had said until it had left his lips; though knowing that he meant it all the same.
"You better."
And then she was gone.
Reed closed his eyes, trying to savor that memory. Viera had been his friend. He was going to truly miss her.
A sharp prod at his skull jolted him back to reality.
"Hey! Be careful with that thing," he hissed at his handler. "You don't want to hurt me more than you already did."
"I'll say it again," his handler said. "That was your fault for being a slow runner."
"Well I'm sorry if I didn't expect to literally jump onto a moving train," Reed said, rubbing his bruised shin. "Wouldn't it have been easier to have boarded the train in Ukon?"
"No," his handler said. "You can't be seen until we make the switch." She cut off another long strand of hair and cursed. "Didn't you ever cut your hair?"
He looked away.
"The Wolves never gave me anything sharp."
He hadn't had the opportunity to cut his hair in three years. It had grown quite long. He had to cut it if he was going to assume a military persona.
"We should be reviewing more military regulations," she said.
"Enough with those regulations," he whined.
"You need to memorize them by the time you arrive in East City or else you're going to lose your cover," she said, snipping off another clump of hair.
"Can we take a break for just a few minutes?" he asked. "My head hurts."
His handler scoffed, but didn't say anything.
"So how did you find this Logan Reed?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"We have an operative working in West City," she answered.
He looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow.
"Alright, we have an operative who works as a janitor in West City's archives. He keeps an eye out for these sorts of things."
"Is there like a big file with all of the operative's photos or something?" he asked. If so, that didn't sound very secure.
"No," she said. "We usually plan and look for these things ahead of time. We take an operative who we want to switch out and tell other operatives to keep a look out. When we find a match, if we find a match, we switch them."
"So are you the designated potential operative lookout?"
"No," she said. "I'm the handler for every operative in East City."
"How many operatives are there in East City," he asked.
"For the safety of our operation, I cannot tell you that," she said.
He shrugged
"A lot or a little."
"Little," she said. "Turn your head."
They were silent for a bit.
"So what is going to happen when we reach Parktown?" he asked.
The handler paused for a second.
"In Amestris, when people travel across the country, they usually try to bypass Central, too busy, too many trains, too many people. Lieutenant Reed seems to be no different. Tomorrow morning he will arrive in Parktown where he will stay for one day before continuing to East City. We plan to do the switch right after he arrives in Parktown. Then you simply check into his hotel reservation. We'll go over his things to see if we missed anything. Afterwards, you'll proceed to East City."
Reed nodded, thinking over the details. That all sounded pretty good, except...
"But I thought Parktown was right before East City? Why would Logan Reed stop there for a day?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said. "But that's what he told the moving company, so we're going with it."
"But you can't deny that it's strange," he said.
"Get used to it."
She snipped off a final clump.
"What do you think?" she asked, handing him a mirror.
Reed took it and looked at his reflection.
"Pretty good," he said. The face in the mirror was now extremely similar to the one in the photo.
"Now hand me your bag," she said.
"Why?" Reed asked, handing it to her anyway.
"I need to make sure you don't have anything on you that will give you away," she explained.
Reed watched as she rummaged through his few belongings. She pulled his clothes out of the bag.
"Throw these away when you can."
"What's wrong with them?" Reed asked.
"You are assuming someone's identity. That means looking like them, dressing like them, and behaving like them. You won't need these clothes."
Reed scrunched his face in disgust.
His handler continued on. She pulled out a book, flipping through it.
"This book is clearly Drachman. We'll have to destroy it," she said.
Reed grimaced. It took months to save up for that book.
His handler pulled out some pens and paper.
"I think these should pass." She flipped the bag upside down. "Got anything else on you?"
"No," Reed lied. Either he had gotten worse at lying or she was remarkably perceptive, because she immediately looked him in the eye.
"Show me," she said.
He hesitated for a moment before holding out his wrist, displaying his bracelet. She wouldn't make him leave it behind, would she?
"My sister gave it to me before I left," he said quietly.
His handler looked at him. For a second her eyes softened.
"That should be fine," she said. "Just don't flaunt it or anything,"
Reed smiled.
"Thank you."
"Whatever," she said. "Now let's review your background. Where were you born?"
He groaned.
They arrived in Parktown before dawn. It was still fairly dark out so no one noticed them as they walked out of the station. Not that Reed was paying attention. The initial shock of his mission was starting to wear off, leaving him with more worries than he was comfortable with. One particular one was weighing on his mind.
"Hey," he said, when they were taking a shortcut down a dark alley. "Exactly, how is the switch going to happen?"
His handler must have noticed his tone and guessed his real question: how are we going to commit the murder?
She took a breath.
"When Logan-" she paused, making an effort to not use his name. "When your alias's train arrives I will lure him away. We will knock him unconscious and place him in a van that another operative has prepared. We'll need to ask him a few questions first, see if we can get any more information from him. Then the switch will happen. Afterwards, I will dispose of the evidence while you check into the hotel. Once that is completed, I will find you."
Reed looked down at his shoes, grateful that his handler used euphemisms
"However we are the only two operatives in Parktown. I will need your help to restrain him in the van," she said.
Reed nodded and they continued walking.
At eight o'clock the real Lieutenant Logan Reed arrived in Parktown.
They were ready for him.
Reed watched from behind a pillar as his handler went up to talk to Logan.
Spies had to be good at lying. She was no doubt coming up with some story to get him to follow her. Maybe she had lost her cat or her purse had gotten stolen. Whatever it was it worked and they were able to lure Logan Reed into the alley.
A chloroform rag did the rest.
They dragged his unconscious body into the van and promptly drove it to a new location.
When Logan Reed came to, he found that he was tied up in the back of a van. There were two captors; both wore masks covering half their faces. There were ropes binding his wrists and ankles and a gag in his mouth. He struggled against them, attempting to break free.
The woman who lured him into the alley approached him. She had a dagger in her hand. She leaned forward and pulled the gag from his mouth.
"Who are you people?" he demanded. "What do you want?"
"Your name is Lieutenant Logan Reed," the woman said. "You are transferring from West to East City, correct?"
Logan stared at her for a second. Who were these people?
"What do you want from me?" he asked. He struggled against the ropes again. These couldn't be random criminals: the van, the masks, knowing his identity.
This was planned.
"Why are you in Parktown?" the woman asked, leaning in closer.
Logan glared at her.
"I'm not telling you anything," he said.
"Do you know anyone in East City?" she asked.
Logan struggled against the ropes again. These people were asking him questions. So they wanted information. Could they be terrorists of some sort?
"What are your orders once you arrive in East City?" the woman asked.
Logan spat in her face.
He knew the instant he did it that he shouldn't have, but it had been an impulsive reaction.
The woman stepped back and wiped her face with her sleeve. She looked at the other man.
"Well, he's not talking," she said. "Help me put down the plastic."
Logan watched perplexed as his two captors laid down a plastic sheet, covering most of the van's floor.
"Are you going to torture me?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
The woman put down her dagger and picked up a long sword.
"Put him on the sheet," she said.
"What do you want?" Logan asked, but his captors weren't speaking anymore.
Logan struggled as the man dragged him onto the sheet.
"Are you guys terrorists?" he asked.
They still said nothing. Logan began to struggle more, trying desperately to free himself.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
The woman said nothing, but removed her mask and looked him in the eye. Logan looked from her face, to the sheet, and finally the sword. His eyes grew big with realization.
"No," Logan whispered. He struggled harder against his restraints. "What do you guys want!?"
"If he gets any louder we're going to have to gag him," the woman said. There was absolutely no emotion in her voice.
"No," Logan pleaded. "Please. You can't kill me! People will notice I'm missing. The military will get involved!"
They both ignored him.
Logan began to struggle desperately. They couldn't kill him. He couldn't end his life in the back of some van.
"People will come after me!" he cried, suddenly very desperate. "I'm a military officer. They will notice!"
"They won't," the woman said.
Logan grew silent. What did that mean?
"What do you guys want?" he begged. "Please. Whatever you want I will give it to you!"
The woman looked at him, her expression cold. She put one foot on his stomach to keep him still.
"I am truly sorry that we couldn't make this painless. But guns are too loud and drugs are way too expensive," she said, raising the sword.
Logan squeezed his eyes shut. He only had one last card. One last hope to save himself. But he knew he could never say it, he knew that he could never endanger her.
The sword came crashing down.
And Logan Reed was no more.
Logan Reed's impostor waited until he heard his handler cover the body before turning around.
That didn't stop him from seeing the blood through the clear plastic. He closed his eyes again. He heard his handler sigh and a rustling of some sort.
"I covered the body with a carpet. You can open your eyes," she said.
Reed opened his eyes, staring at the bundle of plastic and carpet on the floor.
"What now?" he asked.
"Now," she said, passing him Logan Reed's bag. "You go and check into the hotel. While I will dispose of the body."
Reed could only nod. The hotel, right. The next stage of the plan.
"You okay?" she asked.
"What are you… Where are you going to…"
He trailed off. The words lost somewhere in his chest.
His handler sighed.
"There is a lake which is a good distance from the town. I'll weigh down the body and dispose of it there."
Reed found himself nodding again.
"Hey," his handler said, leaning in closer. She smelt like blood. "I will be back in a few hours. By then it'll almost be lunch time. I'll pick up something for both of us, alright?"
Reed found himself nodding again.
"Just get to the hotel," she said. "That's all you have to do."
Somehow Reed managed to make it to the hotel and check in. Once in the room, he sat down heavily in a chair, overwhelmed.
"Whatever you want I will give it to you!"
Those had been Logan Reed's last words.
Men kept insisting that they will die with bravery, but in the end most of them ended up begging.
Reed closed his eyes.
They murdered a man.
Just so that they could find out a little more information.
Was it really worth it?
Reed took a deep breath. He had to do it, didn't he? He was ordered to. Logan Reed was just a small part of the bigger plan. The ends justify the means.
Or something like that.
Reed felt as if he had been sprinting for hours. His head hurt and his limbs felt weak.
He rubbed the bracelet on his wrist.
It was for his family. It was all for his family.
His father had been a fur trader. They had made just enough money to keep living. Then his father died. His mother had always been a bit feeble, but grief made her practically bed ridden. His two younger siblings were too young to help out. In the end, he took over as head of the family. In the next few months they fared pretty well. Those who lived at the base of the Briggs mountains mostly lived off of the land. He was able to catch enough game to put food on the table.
Then winter came.
Drachman winters are long and incredibly harsh. Blizzard after blizzard came, their small store of food and money diminished within a few weeks. Sometimes the weather was so bad that they couldn't even collect firewood. The only thing that could distract them from the intense cold were their growling stomachs. Multiple times they considered just walking out into the cold icy world; death by hypothermia was faster than death by starvation.
Desperate, he had enlisted into the military. The Drachman military provides benefits for soldiers and their families if they enlisted for life. He had been just 16 when he enlisted, knowing that he would live and die under their control, but also knowing that he was selling his soul so that his mother, sister, and brother would have a chance to live.
He would do anything for his family. Sacrifice anything.
That was all that mattered.
Before Reed could think another thought, he had fallen asleep.
Hours later a knock on the door rose Reed from his light doze. He slowly stood and made his way to the door. The clock on the wall indicated that it was almost noon. His handler was probably returning with lunch. He opened the door, expecting to see her familiar face.
He was wrong.
His visitor was a woman. Her hair was down and she was wearing a light pink dress.
"Logan," she said, smiling. "I told you to come see me as soon as you arrived. I've been waiting all…"
She trailed off.
Maybe it was his look of confusion when he saw her. Maybe it was the way his eyes didn't flash with recognition. Maybe he didn't look that much like Logan Reed as he thought. Whatever it was, it caused the woman before him to take a step back.
"You're not… where's Logan?" she said, taking another step back.
"I don't know who you are talking about," he lied.
The woman glared at him.
"The front desk told me that Logan would be in this room. Where is he?" she asked.
Fear was starting to grow in her eyes. She glanced down the hall to see if anyone else was nearby.
Reed opened his mouth trying to think of a plausible excuse.
The woman took another step back.
"Did you do something to him?" she asked.
He opened and closed his mouth, trying to think of something, anything to say.
The woman's eyes went wide and she moved to take another step back.
Before even thinking about it, Reed grabbed her dress and pulled her into the room. He clamped his hand over her mouth, before she could scream. Her hazel eyes were wide with fear. And without a second thought he bashed her head against the wall, effectively knocking her unconscious.
He watched as her body crumbled to the floor.
'What in the world did you just do?'
'What in the world did you just do?'
He took a deep breath, then two, then three. Before he knew it he was gasping for air, breathing rapidly.
'What did you just do?'
He didn't have any other option, right? She knew that he wasn't Logan. She saw him. She could have called the police.
He closed the door and began to pace back and forth across the room, trying his best to ignore the unconscious body lying next to the door.
She was only knocked out, right? That meant she was still alive and that meant she was going to wake up.
'Unless she is already dead'
Reed crouched before her and felt her neck, looking for a pulse. He was both relieved and terrified when he found it.
He needed to restrain her. He found some rope in the closet and used it to bind her wrists and her ankles. As a final safety measure, he rolled up a piece of cloth and put a gag in her mouth. He looked at her, surprised that his hands were no longer shaking.
He took a deep breath and sat down on the floor, suddenly exhausted.
'What are you going to do?'
'What in the world are you going to do?'
A second knock on the door, brought him back to reality. He stayed silent.
"Are you in there?" he heard his handler ask through the door.
Dazed, Reed stood and opened the door, closing it the moment she was inside.
"So I thought getting two orders would be a bit suspicious, so I found a shop that sold really big sandwiches and thought we could share," his handler said, stepping inside. "Are you okay with..." she trailed off, having spotted the body on the floor.
"What happened?" she asked, glaring at him.
"She came in just a little while ago. She mentioned Logan, I think he might've been her friend or something. I don't know," Reed said, trying to keep his voice steady.
His handler threw her bag at him.
"I leave you alone for four hours and this is what happens!" she hissed.
"She could tell I wasn't Logan. I couldn't just let her leave," Reed said, defensively.
His handler scoffed and began to pace a bit, seemingly collecting her thoughts.
"Fine. We can work with this," she said. "Help me get her to the bathroom."
"What?"
His handler sighed.
"We need to find out who she is and if there is anyone who knows where she is. I am going to question her. However should we need to..." she trailed off. "The floor in this room is carpet, if we get blood on it, it's never coming out."
Reed nodded, understanding. He helped her drag the unconscious body to the bathroom. They put her in the tub.
"Stay back by the door and get your gun out," his handler said, sitting on a chair next to the tub. She took out a dagger. "If she somehow manages to get past me, shoot her. We'll deal with the mess afterwards."
Reed nodded. His handler began to poke at the woman, slowly helping her to regain consciousness.
Even from across the small bathroom, Reed could see that her eyes were full of fright. She shrunk back against the tub, eyeing the dagger in his handler's hand.
"I'm going to take out your gag, then I will ask you some questions. If you answer truthfully, we might let you go," she said, her voice remarkably calm. "But if you scream or try to escape, I will end you right here. Understood?"
She nodded.
His handler took out the gag.
"What is your name?" she asked.
"My name is Kani," the woman said. "Who are you people?"
His handler ignored her.
"How do you know Logan Reed?"
Kani looked as if she might cry.
"I'm his girlfriend," she said.
"When did you meet?"
"I met Logan while I was on vacation in the West a few years ago. We kept writing to each other even after I left. We started dating. He managed to get transferred to East City so that he will be closer to me." Her body started shaking, racking with sobs. "Please, where is he? What did you do to him?"
They both understood. The files in West City gave them access to military records. However it seemed that Logan Reed had a long distance girlfriend, something they would have no way of knowing.
"Does anyone know you were in a relationship?" the handler asked.
"No," she said. "Logan wanted to wait."
"Did you tell your family?" the handler asked.
"I don't get along with them," she started to cry, tears running down her face. "Please, let me go. I won't tell anyone about what happened. I promise."
Reed looked away.
"Where do you live?" the handler asked. Kani began to cry louder. "Where?" she said harshly, shoving the dagger in her face.
"I live on the corner of Glen Road and Main street. It's a brown apartment building, unit 305. Please. Please just let me go," Kani cried.
"You mentioned letters. Where do you keep them?" the handler asked.
"In my bedroom cabinet. I have money in the cabinet too and my bank statements as well. You can have them. You can have all of them. Just please let me go," she said, drowning in her sobs.
His handler stood and turned toward Reed.
"I'm going to go and try to find those letters," she said, passing him her dagger. "Wait until I get back. Until then, keep an eye on her."
She moved to walk past him. But he stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
"What are we going to do?" he whispered.
His handler looked down.
"We can't let her live."
"Are you sure we can't just-
"No. If we let her go, we'll risk the whole operation. Listen she has seen you, she knows her boyfriend is missing. It's only a matter of time before she puts two and two together. And if she does report it, you will be arrested and killed," his handler said. "I'm sorry your assignment turned out this way, but we have to move forward. We can't take risks. We have to fulfill our orders."
"Fine," he said.
"I'll be back soon," she said, opening the door and closing it behind her. Reed stood there for a few moments until he heard the door to the hotel room open and close.
"Hey," Kani called, having run out of tears. "Help me, please help me."
Reed turned toward her and sat down in the chair.
"I can't do that," he said.
"Please, I promise I won't tell anyone, please," she begged. "Please."
Reed wished that she would stop talking. After a few moments, she looked down and began to sob quietly.
Reed could hear the clock on the wall, steadily ticking. He wasn't sure how much time passed. Eventually, Kani stopped crying. She looked at him over the rim of the tub, face full of dried tears. Reed tried to keep his eyes on the wall.
"Help me," Kani said. "Please, help me."
Reed looked at her. He couldn't help but feel sympathy for her. She did nothing wrong. She was innocent. She wasn't supposed to die. He tried to think how he would feel if he were lying in that tub. If his sister was lying there. Suddenly Reed found himself reaching toward one of the glasses by the sink. He set the dagger and gun on the counter. His hands free, he filled a glass with water and handed it to Kani.
"Here," he said. "Drink something."
Kani sat up a bit and took the glass with her bound hands. She drank about half of it, before handing it back to him.
"Thank you," she said.
Reed picked up the gun again and went back to staring at the wall.
"I don't think you're that bad," she said. "I don't think you want to be here."
"I suppose you are right."
"Then why don't you just let me go," Kani pleaded.
Reed tried not to look at her.
Kani took his silence for an answer.
"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" she asked.
Reed couldn't help but look at her now. Her eyes were wide with fright, her bottom lip was quivering.
"I'm sorry," Reed managed to say.
"Why?" Kani asked. "What did I do?"
"I'm sorry," Reed said again. "You did nothing wrong."
"Then why-" Kani started.
"Please stop talking," Reed said looking at the wall.
Kani choked back a sob and it was silent once more.
"Can I have some more water?" Kani asked, looking down.
Reed nodded and rested the gun on his knee, turning around to reach for the glass.
Suddenly Kani lunged for the gun. Her bound hands manage to grasp the barrel.
Reed let out a surprised yelp as the weapon slipped from his grasp. He was losing his grip.
Kani's hazel eyes were wide and desperate. She opened her mouth and screamed.
Reed flinched as the horrid sounds filled the room. Panic filled his veins. In one swift move, he grabbed the dagger on the counter and plunged it forward.
The screaming turned into pained screeches.
Reed gritted his teeth and plunged the dagger forward again, and again, and again.
Until the sound finally stopped.
An hour later the handler returned to find Reed sobbing on the bathroom floor, blood covering his hands, face, and chest.
In the tub laid a bloody lifeless body.
- Present day -
Reed woke to a start, practically leaping out of bed.
Remnants of his nightmare are still tearing at his mind. He was being pushed into an unending panic. His lungs were heaving, gasping for air. His heart pounded frantically in his chest. He ran his hands through his hair, a futile attempt to ground himself, to regulate his breathing, to calm himself down.
His frantic breaths turned to helpless sobs.
'When will this ever end?'
He shut his eyes tight, both comforted and frightened by the darkness.
The darkness that has so readily welcomed his soul.
The panic spread further through his body. Suddenly he felt the need to run. To flee. To escape.
But there was nowhere to flee to.
There was a monster in his mind and there is nothing he can do about it.
He forced himself to breathe, to walk, hand grasping at his heart.
Somehow he found his way to the bathroom.
He leaned over the toilet and retched. Thoroughly disgusted with himself and his past.
Afterwards, he avoided looking in the mirror. Instead splashing cool water on his face over and over.
A foolish attempt to cleanse himself.
Time passed and his heart slowly began to beat normally. His lungs were no longer heaving.
He took a moment to stare at the water draining from the sink, swirling in lazy circles before disappearing. He closed his eyes, staring at the darkness, before forcing himself to look up.
Brown eyes stared back at him in the mirror. Eyes attached to a face that both belongs and doesn't belong to him.
If only his eyes were a different color. Or maybe his hair. Or if he was just a bit taller. Or shorter.
Then he would have been fine.
The real Logan Reed could be happily living his life. While he himself could remain the White Wolves contact. Bored out of his mind, but less stressed and more naive.
He traced his leather bracelet. Uncontent with the hollowness in his chest.
'You have no right to complain about pain after you have caused so much heartache'
Suddenly, the room became overbearing. He felt as if he was in a prison, trapped, and unable to escape.
He left his room, intending to pace around the inn's common room until sunrise. Going out for a walk would seem to be the most natural option, but this town isn't necessarily safe.
However as he headed downstairs, he found that he wasn't the only one who had trouble sleeping.
Colonel Mustang was seated at one of the inn's tables, a glass of bronze liquid in his hand.
Reed halted in his tracks, unsure if he should turn around or say hello.
Mustang looked up at him, his expression unreadable.
"Can't sleep either?" Mustang asked.
"No," Reed admitted.
"Nightmare?"
"Of a sort."
Mustang took another sip from his drink.
"Want to talk about it?"
Reed considers saying "no" and just leaving. And if he wasn't a spy, he would have done just that. However he had been trained in intelligence work, and he knew how to recognize opportunities when he saw them.
If he did say "no" and left, it might make Mustang even more curious about him. After all, Mustang was the one to debrief him after the Parktown Incident. There was a good chance the Colonel was already suspicious of him. That would only cause more problems.
However if he did open up a bit, the Colonel might later do the same. Then, Reed might be able to answer some of the questions he had. Furthermore, he didn't need to tell Mustang every detail about his life. He could just be really vague.
"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," Mustang said, taking another sip from his glass.
"No, it's okay," Reed said.
Unable to think of anything to say, he walked over and sat down next to the Colonel.
"I really don't mind them that much," he said.
"And yet they are still keeping you awake."
Reed tried to find a way to explain it.
He started. "It's just that in my life I've made many sacrifices. The nightmares are the consequences of that. So if I have to deal with them, then so be it."
"You sound so noble," Mustang paused. "I wish I could say the same."
"What do you mean?" Reed asked.
Mustang fell silent and looked down at his hands.
"My nightmares are the consequences of the horrors I've committed."
Reed looked up.
"Are you referring to Ishval?"
"Yes," Mustang said. Reed had heard stories about Ishval. The horrible tales of a whole people, slaughtered. Mustang sighed. "Years later and I'm still haunted by what I did."
"But you were just following orders," Reed reasoned.
"That doesn't make it right. And now I have to deal with that guilt, forever."
Reed looked down.
"Would you have rather disobeyed your orders?"
"It's not that simple. It is a soldier's duty to follow his orders no matter what they are, but I know that what I did was still wrong. And I hope I never have to do that again," Mustang said. "Instead, I work to protect those close to me."
"But that might not always be the case," Reed said, before he can fully understand what he is saying. "What if you were in a situation where the best way to protect those close to you would be to follow those irrational orders?"
"Then it's time to change the rules to the game and find another way out. There are few situations where you only have two options to choose from."
Reed fell silent, contemplating the Colonel's words.
Did he really only have two options? Or was there some other solution he had overlooked?
Mustang downed the rest of his drink with one gulp. He sighed and began to stand.
"You should get some rest. It's late," he said.
Reed watched as Mustang began to walk up the steps. Of all things, he had never expected to have a deep conversation with Colonel Mustang at the dead of night. In fact, the more he thought about it, it was weird that Mustang would share this information with him to begin with.
"The reason, you are telling me this," Reed said, coming to the only reasonable conclusion. "The reason that I am here. It's because of the Parktown Incident, isn't it?
Mustang chuckled and looked him in the eye.
"You should get some sleep. It looks like you need it," he said.
Reed watched as the Colonel vanished from view.
There is no doubt about it, Mustang was starting to trust him.
Reed didn't know how he should feel about that. Part of him was relieved. This was proof that he hasn't lost his cover.
And this might work out in the end, if Mustang trusted him, then he wouldn't be a suspect to Edward's murder.
'Did you forget your nightmare already?'
'Have you forgotten Kani?'
Suddenly, he felt bile rise up from his stomach.
He gagged and waited for the moment to pass.
He hadn't thought about Kani.
Not since the Parktown Incident.
Most of the time he tries not to think about her at all.
Reed tried to ignore the tears gathering in his eyes, refusing to acknowledge them even as they slid down his face.
His heart ached in his chest; a dull pain that he can never escape.
He turned to face the wall. Silently wishing that there was a window so he could see the stars.
So that he could be reminded of how complex darkness can be.
Author's Note:
Clarification: no, that was not the Parktown Incident. The Parktown Incident would take place two months before the events of the story.
Summary of skipped parts:
Logan Reed (the real one) awakes in a van. His captors are a man and a woman. He initially assumes they are terrorists. The woman questions him, but he refuses to talk. After a few exchanges, the woman realizes that they are not going to get any information and kills him. Before Logan dies, he briefly thinks of something that could save him, but refuses to mention it for fear of her safety.
The perspective switches to "Reed." He is obviously distributed by Logan's death. His handler tells him to go to hotel while she disposes of the body. "Reed" goes to the hotel room, where he has a breakdown. He thinks about his family. It is revealed that "Reed" grew up at the base of the Briggs Mountains. After his father's sudden death, the family struggled to get by. The Drachman military offers benefits to soldiers if they enlist for life. At 16 years old, "Reed" decided to enlist to save his family.
Some time later, there is a knock at the hotel room door. Assuming it is his handler, "Reed'' opens the door and sees a young woman (this is who Logan Reed was referring to before he died). The woman initially mistakes him for the real Logan Reed, but she quickly realizes that it isn't him and that something has happened to Logan. "Reed" panics, drags her into the room, and knocks her unconscious. When his handle eventually returns, she is very angry at "Reed." They nevertheless question the woman to find out her connection to Logan Reed. The woman reveals that her name is Kani. She is Logan Reed's long distance girlfriend. Since all the Dagger's Operations information came from military files, they had no way of knowing this ahead of time. Kani tells them that no one knows she was dating Logan and the location of her apartment. The handler leaves to dispose of all evidence of Logan and Kani's relationship and tells "Reed'' to watch over Kani until she returns. Before she goes, she reveals to "Reed" that they will have to kill Kani too. While she is gone, "Reed" begins to feel guilt and sympathy for Kani, relating her to his own sister. Meanwhile, Kani realizes that she is going to die. When "Reed" is momentarily distracted, she attempts to grab his gun. "Reed" panics and kills her.
More fun facts. (aka explaining my thought process of writing this chapter)
Originally, the nightmare scene existed purely as a build up to the last scene. I chose to write about "Reed" replacing the real Logan Reed, because it seemed to be the most interesting topic (the Parktown Incident gets it's own chapter later on). However as I was writing it, I realized how much of a pivotal moment it would have been for Reed. That's when I decided to write in Kani. For a majority of my drafts Kani remained just a bit of plot I could add to the story if I got bored. However while "Reed" could justify Logan Reed's death, Kani's murder is unjust. Kani died because Reed panicked. Her death could have been avoided. That's one of the reasons why it haunts Reed so much.
That's why there is a notable shift in Reed's personality from the start of this chapter vs. the rest of the story. At the start of the chapter shows Reed's genuine personality. It was actually fun to write him when he wasn't super depressed or paranoid. However after he kills Kani, everything changes. He becomes more paranoid and withdrawn. This will be developed even more in later chapters.
Also originally, the switch was supposed to happen in some backwater town. However I switched it to Parktown when I realized that would open up more opportunities for the Parktown Incident.
School is starting soon and I won't have as much time to write. So the next update should be in the next month or so. I'm not sure how frequently I'll be able to post after that. However I promise not to leave you guys hanging. At very least I'll leave a note on my profile saying when the next update should be.