Chapter 5: No Return

SHOSHONE, CASCADIA

Snow crunched under his feet and the wind sang through the trees as he stepped lightly through the woods in the foothills of the Shoshone Mountains. Autumn's first snowfall had come a couple of weeks earlier than usual in this part of the country - The leaves had scarcely finished turning yellow before a flurry blew in from up north the night prior. Monarch stopped to catch his bearings for a moment, resting his wood-stocked hunting rifle beneath a sturdy pine tree and breathing into his hands to keep them warm.

Deer season had started only a few weeks prior and already he had managed two does of his own. Monarch contemplated the weather for a moment. He was less prepared than he ought to have been, wearing only a light soft-leather jacket and having forgotten his gloves at home. But his freezer was down to only three more days of meat, and he would need at least one to clean and butcher whatever he got out here, if he got anything at all.

Monarch's mind began to wander as his eyes slowly scanned the forest. These woods weren't at all new to him. He - they - had moved out here six years ago, almost to the day now. He didn't need to hunt back then, not like he told himself he needed to now, but he took his time exploring his new property the day he bought it. It was nice, and he sure enjoyed the privacy, but it felt… empty, like it was missing something. Someone.

Was it the land? Or was it him? Monarch knew the answer, as much as he tried to deny it.

The old pilot found himself out here many days just trying to lose himself and forget about his past. He didn't want to think it, what he had done, the suffering he had caused. He didn't want to think about her, how he had willingly brought her along for it, how he had nearly lost her once. How he had lost her again.

It hurt him to say her name. Every mention of it was a reminder of that past he tried so desperately to leave behind. But he needed her. She was the only one who understood him, the one that was there at his darkest, the one that understood that he didn't want to be the hero everyone saw him as.

Monarch had vowed to never fly again, to retire and live off the land, never to hurt another human again. He took care of his land, taking only what he needed, always putting more back into it. But that philosophy was starting to catch up to him now. Her words - Robin's words - struck something deep within him. What was the point, then? Well? What was the point? Fighting like they had just to let it all go… Monarch felt betrayed by her insistence on going back to serve their new country… But now he was beginning to understand why she did it.

A rustling in the leaves brought him back down to Earth. Monarch scrambled for his rifle, raising it to his shoulder, but the buck was already out of view.

Maybe I'll just head into town for food, he thought, before turning around and beginning the hour-long walk through the woods back to his home.

PRESIDIA, CASCADIA

The sun had been up for scarcely an hour and already the offices of Central Valley Bank in the business district of Presidia were jam-packed. Workers rushed around the admin floor of the three story building with untucked shirts, many of them holding thermoses of coffee or hot tea, all of them in a state of near panic and shock. Phones rang, fax machines chattered away without end. In one of the third floor offices a man stood at the window, his hair badly unkempt, a cup of coffee in his hand. On his expensive dark oak desk sat a stack of papers as tall as his forearm which he tried to pretend wasn't there, and within it, a revolver locked in a concealed compartment which he contemplated for not the first time this morning.

He heard a knock on his door. Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath and said, "Come in." The door opened at once.

"What's the damage?" he said.

"22 billion, so far," his secretary said, throwing another stack of documents onto his desk."

"Christ."

"Members of the press are here."

"Dammit, do not let them inside! Lock the doors!" he snapped at her. "What's the status of that call with DDI I requested?"

"They said the earliest they could get you is noon."

"Fine- dammit, why us?!"

"The news is saying two other banks are affected. Depositors across the Federation are withdrawing funds. No word on how much has been lost so far."

"Yeah, like that's reassuring."

"Don't shoot the messenger, Pat. I'll get you more coffee."

COLUMBIA

The time zone difference meant that Franken was able to catch the news before breakfast at the Capitol building's banquet hall. He thought it a small miracle that he could get Cascadia Today at all on his hotel television set. Even for high-level government employees like himself, they heard of happenings around the world first on TV before any official statement came from up the ladder.

Cascadia Today laid it out plainly, as Franken had come to expect from his favorite morning news channel. The past couple of years hadn't been the easiest on Central Valley Bank. They were the single largest bank in Presida specializing in Cascadia's blooming tech industry and in recent times were considered the safest bank for not only the Bay Area's tech giants to store their money, but those in the Federation as well. Yet, the economy would not be too kind to Central Valley Bank, the newscaster went on to describe, and CVB's long term securities investments would be hit by the effects of short term inflation. The writing should have been on the wall, the guest financial analyst for Cascadia Today said. Franken laughed to himself at that. If it were so apparent, why did no one do anything to stop it?

Within hours of the terrorist attack in Taipei, Formosan and Nipponjin tech companies began withdrawing billions of Cascadian Dollars from CVB and two other major banking firms in the Bay Area to cover for a predicted stock crash. The biggest of these of course was Federal Semiconductor Manufacturing Corporation, who had just watched their biggest project to date go up in literal flames. As the biggest firms withdrew their reserves, the rest quickly realized that CVB didn't actually have the liquid cash to fulfill every request for a withdrawal, beginning a vicious cycle.

That's where they were now. Franken was just glad to have made his fortune outside of needing to dabble in stocks and investments and all the usual means of accumulating wealth without actually working for it.

Franken finished tying his tie and threw on an overcoat before making his way to the hotel's front entrance to catch the car waiting for him outside. It was a short drive to the Capitol, though made longer by the reception from the press waiting for him. It was the final day of the summit, and while he would miss Columbia's magnificent history and fine dining, he would be hard pressed to say that he would miss his assignment.

His car brought him to the very front of the Capitol building, its steps gated off and lined with reporters. An autumn breeze blew through the crowd and Arnold wondered how long they had been waiting for the diplomats to arrive. He ignored the snapping of cameras and questions from the press as he made his way up the chipped marble stairs into the Capitol.

TAIPEI, FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF FORMOSA

Haru rarely felt anything more than a surface-level emotional attachment to the cases he was assigned to. But as he stood at the edge of the "crime scene" - if it could really be called that - he felt a storm of rage fill his mind. He clenched his fists, digging his nails deep into his palms.

He had never visited a semiconductor plant or even seen one up close, but he didn't need to have to know that the rubble laid out in front of him was nothing short of a disaster. Seven stories collapsed into one. Over 400 people - Not including more than a dozen police officers! - murdered within minutes. These terrorists wouldn't stop here, not unless he got to them first.

Twenty firetrucks continued pouring water onto the debris pile. While the surface level fires were mostly out, smoke continued to rise from within. Behind the fire went groups of EMTs and paramedics donning bright orange and yellow safety equipment. They entered the rubble in twos and fours, occasionally returning with wounded survivors, most of whom were badly burned with limbs disjointed and broken.

It was bright and uncharacteristically warm today, though since Calamity Formosa had been known for its warm autumns. Haru wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead before walking up to the Taipei City Police Chief who stood amongst the fire trucks and ambulances, talking to his counterparts in the fire department.

"Chief," Haru bowed. The chief reciprocated it, then stuck out his hand for a handshake.

"What can I do for you?"

"Kishimoto Haru," said Haru, shaking his hand. "Federal Department of Investigation, Forensics Division. We have reason to believe that the perpetrators of this attack were the same that carried out the assassination of Representative Han Seong-Jin last month. I am heading that case - "

"Inspector, I appreciate the introduction but this does little to help my men who are buried under that rubble."

"I understand, Chief. We will find those responsible and bring them to justice."

"They are Cascadian, yes?"

"So they say."

"We should have known…" the police chief shook his head to himself. "I was there. In Presidia, I mean. I was lucky to have been evacuated before they closed the blockade." He lifted up his shirt, revealing a scar that cut across his stomach. "We should have known that it wouldn't end there. Not after that peacekeeper went rogue."

"Thank you for your service, Chief. I could never be so brave."

Before the police chief could respond, a pair of men in blue bomber jackets labeled "FDI" in bold yellow letters walked up to them.

"Inspector Kishimoto," one began, "Your presence is requested in Edo at once."

"What? I have only just arrived!"

"You lead the case surrounding the murder of Representative Han, do you not?"

"Yes - "

"Then you are to report to Edo with all necessary materials for a briefing with the Federal Security Council. A plane is waiting for you."

Haru gave the police chief one last look and the two bowed to each other once more.

"Good luck, Inspector," the chief said. Haru began to walk with the two FDI agents to a black SUV beyond the police tape that lined the scene. "And Inspector," the police chief started before Haru got too far. "I would do it again, as would any of my officers here. After what they did to my men, I think anyone would volunteer to be the first in line to burn Cascadia again.

COLUMBIA

There was a certain tension in the air as the conference chairman gave his closing remarks. They had all seen the news by now and Arnold realized more eyes were on him than usual this afternoon. So much the better, he thought.

"...And finally, I wish to give my sincerest thanks to every representative in this room now. This conference is paving the way toward a new, bright future for the people of North America…"

In principle Arnold agreed with everything being said. That didn't stop him from wanting the speaker to get to the point and wrap it up. He had a flight to catch, and there were more pressing matters to attend to at home.

After what Arnold thought to be too many thanks and awkward quips the chairman finished his speech and the room rose for applause. Franken took 30 seconds or so to likewise show his gratitude to the conference when he, like most of the other men in the chamber hall, broke off to shake hands and say goodbyes. After 20 minutes of this, he made his way to the doors at the back of the hall when he ran into a familiar face who stopped him at the door.

"Arnold," the other man went in for a handshake.

"James, good to see you again."

"And you!" said James Taylor. "Crazy news this morning, huh."

"Yeah. I hope the Feds don't get the wrong idea about all of this." He suppressed a smile that crept onto his face by feigning a yawn.

"Well, if you ask me, I think almost anyone here would say they deserved it," James said before leaning in to whisper. "Presidia doesn't have anything to do with this, right?"

"Of course not," Franken quickly dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. "Extremism and terrorism are problems that afflict the whole world. It was only a matter of time that the Federation would be hit by something this bad. We cannot bear responsibility for the actions of lone actors, no matter where they're from."

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't think you'd know anything more than what they're saying on the news anyway." James gave a quick sigh. "Well Arnold, I'm glad we were able to meet here. Stay in touch, 'kay? It's always good to have friends in these parts and you're always welcome up in Providence."

"Right, and likewise you and Presidia."

EDO, FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF NIPPON

The four hour airship flight placed Haru in the colossal Haneda International Airship Port a little after 5 o'clock. Two black-suited men from FDI met him at the passenger terminal and escorted him to his car, a slick black SUV uncharacteristic of those usually found on the streets of Edo. As they approached, one of the passenger doors opened and a man stepped out. He was tall, matching Haru's height, but broader and more imposing. His face was weathered and serious. Haru recognized him instantly.

"Deputy Director Chiba," he said, bowing his head for the deputy director of the Federal Department of Investigation.

"Inspector Kishimoto," said the director, reciprocating the bow. "It has been some time. Come, come. The Security Council is waiting."

Haru stepped into the back seat of the car as their chauffeur put it into drive. Director Chiba wasted no time in getting to business.

"You've made quite the name for yourself, Haru - A long way since your father introduced you to me. You're leading the Seong-Jin case now, hm?"

"Yes, Director, we were just on the cusp of a breakthrough -"

Director Chiba cut him off to hand him a manila folder which Haru quickly opened.

"Vocal analysis of chief suspect…"

"This came to my desk while you were in the air, about two hours ago. They're saying Representative Seong-Jin's murderer was Magadane."

"That doesn't make any sense -"

"You don't have to tell me twice. And sorry for getting these first. Anything relating to this case has to come through me now, now that it's become this big. Boss's orders."

"I understand. Has anything come in regarding the investigation at the ammunition plant?"

"Yes, we have a suspect now for the test batch that found its way onto our crime scene - Another Magadanian, though that is to be expected. Everything we know about him is in that folder. He left Magadan for vacation a day before Representative Han Seong-Jin's assassination and has been away ever since. We have teams raiding his home and that of his family now, though I suspect they won't find anything useful." Chiba took a moment to let Haru skim through the document. "You believe the assassination and the terror attack are linked?"

"Yes, but I have hardly had time to look into the attack. I don't even know where to start… They broadcast both over the same streaming channel but… I don't know. The attackers all spoke Cascadian, and the assassination was done in the name of Cascadia… But vocal analysis and the source of the ammunition says the assassin is Magadanian, and I suspect we will find something similar with this terrorist attack. None of this makes sense."

"I am as lost as you, Haru. It is okay to admit that, but the Security Council wants answers. This has become a major national security issue and there may be state actors at play."

"I have never attended a meeting of the Security Council before."

"Most FDI officers never will. They can be rowdy sometimes, and there are some… personalities. Just stick to the facts."

"Who is giving the briefing?" Haru asked.

"You are."

Haru did a double take, dropping the documents into his lap and looking back at Chiba.

"Just stick to the facts," Chiba repeated. "Just the high level information. You don't need to go into excruciating detail. You know more about this case than anyone. And if you need someone, I will be right there."

"Right." Haru sighed and shook his head as the car entered the security gate of the Federal Department of Defense Affairs building. A pit developed into Haru's stomach as he looked out the window and took in the tall, strikingly bare concrete building which coordinated the defense of the entire Pacific Federation. Their SUV brought them directly to the front entrance and a pair of guards escorted them through the doors.

The spotless marble and granite interior of the FDDA building contrasted heavily with its dull, imposing exterior walls. Paintings of famous generals and admirals of generations past lined the hallways, though Haru was much too nervous to pay them any mind. He, the deputy director, and their escort walked briskly to an elevator, beginning the agonizing ascent to the tenth story, wherein another set of walkways led them to a guarded set of double doors. Two more guards snapped to attention and let Kishimoto and Chiba inside.

PRESIDIA, CASCADIA

In 24 hours, Arnold Franken had experienced one of the most catastrophic financial collapses of the century, seen out the end of the first ever trans-continental meeting of North American political leaders, and crossed over four time zones. Sleep might have been the first thing on his mind, had he not passed out for the entire flight from Columbia back to Presidia. His plane touched down just before 11 PM Cascadian time. He hadn't yet made it to his car outside the airport terminal when his phone rang. With a smile, a nod, and one sentence of confirmation, his driver rerouted him to a hotel in downtown Presidia.

The penthouse suite of the Hotel Magistar went for over six-thousand Cascadian Dollars a night. For the men in the room, it was pocket change, even with current events unfolding around them. Arnold found his seat at the head of the pinewood table in the dining room.

"So?" he asked plainly.

"168 billion fucking dollars! We sold all our treasury stock, borrowed back 11 bil'... It's all gone," said Pat Chambers of Central Valley Bank.

"And the Department of Depositors Insurance..?"

"Nothing! They're sayin' because they only guarantee insurance up to 300 grand per individual that they aren't covering anything more than that. We're fucked, Arnold. 168 billion in the hole. Those slimy Nipponjin rats-!"

"Pat," said one of the businessmen.

"Three other banks closed today," said another. "Central Valley will announce its closure tomorrow, and DDI will take over after that. Not good, Arnold."

Franken just nodded his head. "So, what do you want me to do?" He already knew the answer.

Pat became almost pensive. "Arnold, you've got connections… I mean, what you said before, about the Federation being weak and overstretched -"

"That was just an observation, Pat. I didn't mean anything by it."

"I mean, but you meant it, right?" Pat asked pathetically.

"Sure. They've been bogged down putting out brushfire conflicts in the Middle East and insurgencies in Central Asia, and trying to hold onto their possessions in the Mediterranean against the UKA… If I were them, I certainly wouldn't want another conflict brewing on my back doorstep."

"Arnold…" started one of the suits, an industrialist in charge of an agricultural conglomerate spanning most of Cascadia. "The Feds 're beating us here. Without CVB and those other banks, our own businesses and startups are going to have to go to the Federation for investments! Fuck, I mean I know we give him a hard time for bein' a dirty banker 'n' all but Pat did us a good service. The Feds are gonna keep buying up our portfolios, stealin' our labor… And now they're going after our banks? Cheap shit, Arnie."

"We've got to do something!" exclaimed Pat.

Franken rested his elbows on the table, concealing a crooked smile beneath his hands. Everything was falling into place. "You do know what you're asking for, right?"

Those sitting around the table looked amongst themselves and back at Arnold, nodding in confirmation.

Arnold sat up straight in his seat. "I'll see what I can do."

EDO, FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF NIPPON

What shocked Inspector Kishimoto Haru the most was how the men in this room seemingly paid close attention to every word he had to say. He was well used to having superiors brush off anything he brought to the table due to his young face. Not here.

"...We believe at this time that at least the… terrorist wearing the body camera is Cascadian or of some other North American nationality due to his fluency in the Cascadian language. However, we still cannot rule out the possibility of some connection to a Magadanian extremist group of some kind. Perhaps the Magadane Red Hand, though…" Stick to the facts, Haru, "I don't want to speculate without knowing for certain."

The darkened room went quiet for a moment. Haru stood awkwardly at the front, waiting for his analysis to be ripped apart by the men sitting at the long wooden table in front of him.

"You do not believe these acts were done solely by Cascadian insurgents then?" asked one, who sat far in the back at the very opposite end of the room. Haru could just barely make out his face.

"No, Mister Prime Executive," Haru bowed. He was not expecting a question from the Federation's head of state. "At least, this is what our initial forensics analysis tells us. Representative Han Seong-Jin, may he rest in peace, was murdered by a man of Magadanian nationality, and the ammunition used in that attack was likely knowingly distributed to the assassin by a Magadanian factory worker. The livestream channel used to broadcast both events links them together."

The Prime Executive leaned back in his chair. "What are the lasting effects of this?" he asked no one in particular.

"Semiconductor production is bottlenecked to… 54 percent capacity," spoke the Director of the Department of Industry. "FSMC has a small surplus that will last us… Two, perhaps three weeks. After that point there will be a net-deficit in production of devices that require advanced microelectronics. Televisions, cellular telephones, automobiles… Not to mention heavy machinery used in construction, healthcare, and communications… We will need to implement serious austerity measures at once."

"By God!" exclaimed the Director of Defense Affairs.

"How long will this last?" asked the Prime Executive in a solemn tone.

"Early estimates on the time needed to rebuild the Taipei plant are at least four years - Six if we're conservative, plus one more to bring production back to normal. In the meantime the price of electronics across the Federation will increase markedly. Local manufacturers will need to go abroad for most internal electronics components…"

"Including our arms manufacturers!" said Defense.

"Including our arms manufacturers."

"Gentlemen, this poses a serious national security threat! Our nation's most precious industries have come under attack by foreign agents originating from Cascadia - This is nothing short of a prelude to war!"

The room exploded into a flurry conversation between the twenty members of the Federal Security Council. A million thoughts flew through Haru's mind at once. Representative Seong-Jin's assassin pinned his actions on Cascadia… But everything points to him being from the Federation! And the terrorists at the FSMC plant all spoke Cascadian… But the only thing connecting them and the assassin is the livestream channel used to broadcast the event. What if they weren't connected at all? Or what if they were, and pinning the attacks on Cascadia was just a red herring? What if…

Haru's eyes went wide with realization. He had a hypothesis. Not one he could prove, not yet… But a feeling deep inside told him he was onto something. He had to prove himself right. The consequence of failing was war.

A/N: Thank you for reading. You give my writing purpose. Reviews, comments, and critiques always welcome and appreciated.