Long Feng
Theoretically, it should have been easy to track down property that was, by technicality and merit of paperwork hidden beneath my eyes, my own.
Such was not the case.
Ever since Joo Dee and I, or, rather, more specifically, her while I'd been incapacitated, had found what we had last night, or, this morning, I supposed, we'd been on damage control. Considering it deeper, however, the matter was less one of damage control as much as it was simply damage diagnosis, and desperately trying to learn the extent of what was transpiring without me having been aware.
We knew food was coming into the city beneath our nose, that it was being hidden through proxies, false distributions, transfers, divisions, and the like, and was all winding up somewhere under my name. And I, meanwhile, was being tasked with putting this food that I hadn't known had existed until a couple of hours ago, and had claimed on multiple occasions there was none to go around only for it to have been in my possession all along.
If it wasn't grounds for charges of corruption, then nothing was.
It was a good enough guess, I supposed, to presume that Honang had something to do with the lot of this, leaving the remaining questions of how he'd gotten such food in the first place, how he'd moved it beneath everybody's nose, and what, save a thorn in his side, he stood to gain. There were many more questions to ask too, but at present, the most important came down to one alone–how deep this plot went, and who else was involved.
Because so far, that was proving to be our only hope of finding where this food had gone, my only chance of saving myself.
And that hope had already proved worthless.
The documents had included the addresses of properties supposedly purchases under my name, and already, upon first seeing such, I had dispatched agents to these exact locations only to find them completely empty, the food these documents spoke of non-existent, at least not where they were supposed to be.
The food had gone missing, gone from my stores, last under my name, to some unknown destination, our efforts to narrow things down slowly slimming, even with Joo Dee insisting on seeing the silver lining. "At least," she said. "At least we know that if the food were to leave the middle district, it would have been documented by authorities one way or another."
"We don't have time to deploy the Dai Li searching every warehouse in the middle district," I said, admittedly letting my frustration get the better of me. "Keep looking."
I wondered briefly, for a moment, what time it was, but the concern passed as quickly as it'd come. Of the concerns I was being faced, going a night and a morning without a meal and any real rest save for the occasional catnap I had taken or afforded Joo Dee to take throughout the night was the least of them, but it was beginning to catch up to me.
In reaching for another scroll, setting the useless one I held aside, my sleeve caught the corner of an ink bottle, sending it to the ground, red ink spilling, falling between the cracks of the wooden floor. I scrambled immediately to recover the bottle, placing it upright once again, cursing to myself as Joo Dee cleared the immediate radius of documents.
I moved to do the same, but was immediately scolded by Joo Dee who said, "No; don't," then nodded towards my hand, seemingly bloodstained from an invisible wound that'd taken me over the night.
Thousands of men dying beyond our walls and this is the closest I come to a wound–red ink splattered upon me.
I chuckled at my own internal joke, and Joo Dee, already having fetched a towel from her desk, returned to me, offering it my way alongside an offer of, "I can fetch some milk; if we soak it quick enough the ink-"
"Will fade on its own," I said as I accepted the towel, and wiped the still wet ink from my hands, leaving still a stain that likely would remain for some time, but still nothing in comparison to the indefinite nature of the mortality of those who gave their lives for us in the outer ring.
I set the towel on the ground beneath the ink bottle to hopefully have some effect in mopping it up there, and moved almost to wipe at my eyes with my stained hand before barely remembering at the last second. Again, I scoffed and chuckled to myself.
Joo Dee was good company. She had an expert way of diverting ones shortcomings away from them, and did so again now as she spoke, "It's been a long night. I think I could use some rest. Perhaps both of us."
Yes, that I did, but I was lacking for something much more important–answers.
"No," I said. "I cannot. I'm running out of time as I am and we're no closer to having any insight about the root of this all."
"And an answer will continue to evade us if we work in an exhausted state of mind."
"What exhausts me is knowing that there are vipers on my doorstep, and I cannot rest properly until they are rooted out."
Joo Dee frowned, likely hoping that her words would have held more sway with me as they ordinarily did, but the spring festival was but a week away, 6 days now after last night, and there was much to be done before then, namely discovering who wished 6 days from now to be my downfall.
"May I at least fetch some tea for you then, and perhaps some breakfast as well?"
"Yes, Joo Dee," I answered. "That would be welcomed, thank you."
She nodded, stood, bowed, and made way towards the exit, carefully stepping her way between the scattered documents of our floor.
I reached for the towel on the floor again to try and dig some more of the ink from my hand.
In my hand, folded as it was, it didn't look much different from the bloodied kerchief Qun now bore at his side at all times.
Qun, I thought to myself, now wondering just how much of this all was his own doing. He was the treasurer, had said himself that all documents passed through him first, and had mentioned nothing of the sort when we had met yesterday. Yet, in his condition, just how much influence was his own? Was it less than he let on? More, and the extent of his infirmity was an exaggeration so as to draw attention away from himself?
It was hard to say, but if there was anywhere to start, it was there, much as I hated the prospect of returning to his morgue of a home.
"Wait," I spoke up, halting Joo Dee's departure. "No. Summon Captain Heli. I believe I know where to begin.
"Of course," Joo Dee said. "Is there anything else I can do?"
"When you're done," I said. "Get some food, get some sleep. And thank you."
Her smile always was a beautiful one, never forced as it was for half the women in the king's court, nor hailing from some idiotic naivete as it was for the other half. It was honest, sincere, intelligent, and beautiful, and I envied the man whose privilege it was to see it coming home every day, or, as of the last couple of months, would have that smile waiting for him when he returned.
If he returns.
Stop that, I told myself, and returned Joo Dee's smile.
"Promise you'll do the same?"
"I promise," I said.
She nodded, and left my office, shutting the door behind her, followed soon after by Captain Heli, by which point I was newly dressed, my face washed, and ready to begin my day in truth.
"You wished to see me?" Captain Heli asked upon entering, and shutting the door behind him, checking the lock once, twice, ensuring that not a wandering ear would come across discussions best left alone in the ears of the Dai Li.
"Yes," I said. "I have need of the Dai Li's services."
It often evades many of the king's court that me having found for myself a place in it came not from heritage, from a fortuitous bloodline, but rather from a slow climb, one rung at a time, years in the making, and years still left ahead. For those it did not evade, they still mostly appeared to forget just what it was that brought me to the royal palace–not a mere appointment, or staff job that eventually become one of administration, bu rather one our city's secret police-the Dai Li.
I could not blame them. Oftentimes, that reality felt like a different world to me, so long ago that it blended with the memory of my middle ring merchant father and mother. But their strategies, their methods were still my own, and I hadn't lost my touch.
Within the hour, a dozen Dai Li agents surrounded Qun's household, a dozen more plainclothes agents embedded in surrounding crowds as support. So too did I, at this same hour, have a team of agents monitoring Qun's office for good measure. I was leaving nothing to chance, not as I entered Qun's estate with Heli, Lanuo, and two other agents beside us, and not as I ordered Qun's household attendants restrained until further notice.
As one might imagine, my entry into Qun's bedchamber now bore with it a considerable change in mood since we'd last seen each other yesterday.
The man was off to a late start for the morning it seemed, appearing to be stirring awake just now with a fit of coughs as an undressed woman who certainly was not his wife currently sent away to Omashu for her safety scrambled out of his bed.
"Seize her," I said, and on command without question, Heli had bent towards the woman a pair of earth binders had immediately seized her wrists and pinned her to the wall, allowing two other agents to bend around her a jacket of earth and gag across her mouth, her appearance now one a touch more humble than it'd been seconds before.
"What," Qun coughed. "What is the meaning of this?!"
"Treasurer Qun," I greeted him, approaching his bedside, though only somewhat, keeping at least something of a berth between the two of us. "I wished to resume our conversation from yesterday."
"You're out of line, Long Feng! There is no justification for this!"
"This is a Dai Li matter, treasurer. There has been probably cause to investigate your doings, and the Dai Li have universal royal prerogative to act where and when deemed necessary."
"Probable cause?" the man asked, coughing, this the most life I'd seen out of him for weeks if not months even before his condition had worsened to this point. "I gave you everything you asked for! What, you think I was hiding-" a cough, a wheeze, another cough. "Hiding something from you?"
"I don't know, Qun; you did neglect to mention as I sought solutions to my food shortage for the coming spring festival that I did, in fact, possess all that I required."
"What?" he coughed. "What are you talking about?"
"You should know. After all, as stated, all that goes to your office passes by you first."
Did I actually believe that to be the case, especially in his present condition? No, of course not, but the man had been reluctant yesterday to speak of the true nature of just how much of his treasury duties had fallen out of his purview. What better way to force that out and learn who was truly responsible by presenting a consequence for his suspected involvement?
Needless to say, that strategy was beginning to bear fruit, at least if Qun's crumbling nerves were any indication.
"I…I, not all-" he coughed, raising his kerchief to his mouth to dab at the blood resultant of his dying lungs. "Not all directly passes; there's-" another cough, and another after that, followed by even one more. "There's a lot to manage and so some, some passes over me rather than through, straight to-" more coughing. "Straight to my assistants."
I turned to Lanuo. He nodded. The truth so far.
"And you instruct them directly, give them commands?"
"I…n-no, not exactly. He wheezed and coughed. "There is-" another cough. "There is a boy in charge. Young. Very bright."
I'd heard that description before.
"Who?" I asked. "What's their name?"
"Fahan. He-" he coughed. "He…he's been handling my affairs since my," another cough. "You know."
"So he's completely taken over your responsibilities then," I observed. "So you're still our treasurer and he's not, because…?"
"Because it's temporary!" Qun spat.
Sure it is.
"And I've gone behind nobody's back!" he rambled on. "The grand secretariat is well aware of my," he coughed. "My temporary absence! It was he who selected Fahan to fill the vacancy!"
The perked my attention, but it required another look back at Lanuo to know if what he spoke was true, and there again, a nod. So it was, and the treasury's who activities I was chasing, constantly in their dust, had effectively become Honang's puppet, and Qun was none the wiser.
"Damnit," I muttered to myself before turning on my heel instantly to leave, Heli and Lanuo fast on my tails.
"Hey!" Qun called after me. "What the-" a cough. "You must answer for this intrusion!"
I wouldn't. I had other, far more pressing concerns.
"I require an all points bulletin on this individual, Fahan," I said to him as we exited through the busted doorway our agents had created. "If he is found, make him disappear, and bring him directly to Lake Laogai."
Heli nodded, and saluted me, and as soon after as the order had been given, gave the signal to the two dozen Dai Li agents surrounded Qun's household, plain clothed and otherwise who now emerged from hiding, and I knew that in no time, the order would be given, and hopefully before long, Fahan would be in my grasps, as would his answers to this all.
Aegis
It was another night in Shanzi's turret.
Not that I was complaining.
I'd spent enough nights in her up to this point that I had become comfortable for the most part, the interior of the turret just as much of a home to me as my room in the Hive had been, and perhaps then, even moreso.
Unlike in the Hive, at least if speaking of those first few months, I here didn't have the constant worry of knowing that I was only ever a few inches away from death, the only thing maintaining the gap between me and a violent, public end the good graces of a single man. Here, I did at least know that the man in the maintenance bay and the two up front weren't going to slit my throat in the middle of the night.
But sometimes, that was just the problem.
I hadn't thought about it much when first I'd become part of the Shanzi's crew. Spirits, there was just as good a chance that it was something I'd actively been trying to avoid considering how things had ended with Gan and Gunji, but unlike with the Hornets, desperate, violent, depraved though they were, I knew who they were and what to expect.
I couldn't say the same for this crew.
Not since our run in with the Southern Raiders.
I didn't understand why it irked me as it did. It wasn't as though I was learning that my commander was some psychotic maniac who at any moment could snap and get our entire crew killed. Quite the opposite actually, but I'd rejoined the armored companies, away from the 114th, away from the world I knew, because I knew that with them, with Danev, I'd be held back from getting done the job I was sent here to do.
But now with Boss, that same fear was arising all over again. I thought back on the search and destroy missions he'd considered complete before proper scouring of the remains could be done, the wounded enemies he had allowed to flee, the surrendering combatants he had given the benefit of the doubt, it made me question things, needless to say.
I couldn't sleep.
I didn't leave my turret without scanning my surroundings. We were on patrol, in enemy territory, and though we were near the heart of a formation with an active perimeter of awake and observant tank crews, I was checking all boxes.
I was sure to open and shut the hatch quietly behind myself, careful not to wake the crew as I found a seat atop Shanzi.
Even with my poncho wrapped around me, it was rather cool for a mid Spring night, betraying the heat of the last few days that spoke of Summer's coming arrival.
It was quiet here, at least compared to our riverside trenchline. Here we were subjected to no artillery, no shouts of the wounded, only the chirping of insects in the barley field we found ourselves encamped atop.
Just a year ago, I imagine that a harvest of Spring barley would have been sown here, workers across the fields for miles preparing in anticipation of the harvest to come, perhaps never daring to imagine that the hostile army outside their walls would manage their way inside.
And now here we were, the sole occupants of this dead field alongside the fireflies whose flickering lights blended with those of the distant campfires of our perimeter units.
We'd limited the size of our patrol down to individual companies scouting out different stretches of land following east, our primary task that of ensuring the passage was one that was clear and, with any luck, scout a separate river crossing to take us north and offer assistant to our main assault force's flank in the battle that was to come, one that the 91st brigade, and, consequently, the 114th would find itself at the frontlines of.
I should've gone with them, I thought. I'd thought by going back to armored, I would always have my place in the frontlines, facing the enemy head on secured, but now, even that was beginning to fall into doubt.
I was lost enough in my thoughts that I hadn't heard Shanzi's rear hatch open and close, out from it exiting a Hizo who must've noticed me and so said, "Oh; you're out here too," snapping me from my haze.
"Hm," I answered simply as Hizo scooted himself up onto Shanzi's hull and reached into his poncho and produced a small smoking pipe, one which he promptly filled the end of with a substance from a pouch that I recognized rather well, having seen it more than once back in Citadel.
Hizo moved to pack the pouch away again, and then as though seeming to suddenly realize some idiotic mistake he'd made, slapped his forehead and said, turning to face me, "Oh yeah, right. You gonna want some?"
"Don't smoke opium," I said, shaking my head.
In Taisho's slums, one rarely went their childhood without at least getting the a taste of opium. I'd had my first when I was 9, gotten hooked for a good couple of months along with half of the slums until the peacemakers, not keen on having half of their gang hooked, forced the dealers to the west side of the city and began their policy of severing the hands of dealers and cutting out the tongues of users. It'd taken a couple of months of withdrawal and Reek, no, Reiki holding me back from making the trek to the westside to buy more with money and information I didn't have to get me off of it, and not one second of it had been a fun time.
Shrugging, Hizo responded, asking with his pipe between his lips, "Mind lighting me up then at least?"
I complied, nodding. Hizo craned his head towards me, presenting his pipe to me, the invitation clear.
Producing a small flame between the index finger and thumb of my right hand, the effort so menial I hardly felt myself needing to concentrate, I lit his pipe, feeling that familiar sensation and smell wash over me like a dream I had forgotten.
I drew away as soon as his pipe was lit, not particularly keen on its familiarity of it all.
He leaned back against my turret, and let out his first of puffs, the smoke just barely visible lit by the light of his pipe which he now returned to his lips, against the night sky just another firefly of the field.
"So I always wake up 'round this time and need a smoke before I go back to sleep," Hizo said. "But what the hell are you doing up?"
"Couldn't sleep."
"That much is obvious. Why?"
Tell him I'm doubting our CO's capabilities as a leader because he didn't give in to the murederous whims of his unit? I thought to myself with a small chuckle. Yeah, that'll go over well.
But still, in spite of those thoughts, it was clear to myself that the problem was one that'd bug me for some time yet, and so long as it did, I could hardly imagine crawling back into my turret and falling asleep, not with the lingering question at the back of my head of whether or not I could trust Boss to get the job done, to let me get the job done.
I naturally had to wonder if I was overreacting, looking too deep into things, had to wonder too if it was simply me who felt this way, who knew what I'd learned yesterday. I supposed there was one way to answer all of those questions at once.
"What do you know about the CO?" I asked Hizo.
"Boss?" Hizo asked following the cough of his first deep puff.
I nodded, adding a "Yeah" in case my head's movements were not ones he could make out in the night's darkness.
I did, however, notice Hizo's shrug, followed by him saying, "Enough not to complain I guess. Gotten us through enough hell mostly alive that I guess sets him out from the COs of other soldiers who haven't been so fortunate."
"What about him in general?" I asked. "Stuff like before he became your commander."
He took a puff. "We don't go too much into our private histories, y'know? Know 'bout the same as everyone else, that he was Navy."
"You know which unit? That he was Southern Raiders?"
That brought out a change in Hizo's expression.
Does he not know? No…no that surprise, it's not the Southern Raiders; it's that I know. That's what surprises him.
"So he told you too?"
"Not exactly," I said. "Some of his old pals are with the marines that came in as reinforcements. Recognized him and they got to chatting."
Hizo chuckled, and coughed due to the smoke in his lungs, smiling to say, "Oh what I would've given to see that. Bet that wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest."
So he knows there's animosity between Boss and his old unit.
I supposed my face must have at least been somewhat visible to Hizo as he took notice of my look and what he believed it to mean, saying, a more serious, though still partially amused look on his face, "Ah; I get it. Guess even your part of the world the Southern Raiders have their reputation as do those who served alongside them. Look, Boss left on his own volition, and-"
"It's not that," I said, not about to turn back now, not when there was finally somebody else to speak about what it was that prevented me from keeping my eyes closed for more than a minute straight. "I heard what his old unit was saying, that he stopped them from carrying out orders, finishing their missions, accomplishing their objective."
A guffaw from Hizo.
"What?" I asked, noticing myself growing frustrated. "Are you denying it? Boss didn't."
And now he laughed. "Why would I deny Boss and one of his few heroic deeds?"
"'Heroic?'" I spat, incredulous as to how Hizo could label blatant disobedience as such. "He abused his position as an officer to internally sabotage a Fire Nation campaign in the Southern Water Tribe, and that makes him a 'hero'?"
"Sure as hell makes him more a hero than anyone else serving there." He set his pipe down, and turned his body towards me. "Look, kid, I don't know how the Southern Raiders are known where you grew up, but they have the reputation they do across the world, Fire Nation included, for a reason. 70 years ago, maybe, when our Navy was at the mercy of waterbenders from every scattered tribe across the Earth, I'm sure hitting them at home was necessary, but you'll hardly meet a member of the last 2 generations in the Fire Nation that don't know the Raides for what they are–murders, rapists, criminals offered amnesty in exchange for turning their aggression on our enemies. Those sound like heroes to you?"
"They're soldiers with orders," I said, avoiding the question. "And we're at war."
"And you don't think that we soldiers get to have some say in how we fight our Fire Lord's war?"
"That's not our call to make."
"And why isn't it? It's us on the ground, us who see the enemy we're fighting, us who are in a position to know when senseless slaughter and frivolous pleasure seeking at the expense of those we claim we're trying to liberate is of no benefit to our nation. Look, you want to be a good soldier, but you're young, and the most you know about war is probably what you and your friends played at in the streets and what the Fire Nation taught you in an academy."
"I know war," I refuted. Perhaps not war between nations and armies, but I imagined it was no different than what I saw in Citadel, children driven to such a desperation that they knew their only chance at survival was to crush the other kid's head with a rock before he could crush his. I continued. "And I know enough to know that it rarely ends until the enemy is dead, or until he's killed you."
"And how would you know that, smartass?"
"Because I thought I was clever enough to end a years-long turf war in the streets where I grew up without bloodshed, and because of it, I got nearly everybody I ever knew and cared about killed."
Somehow, Hizo didn't seem to have an immediate answer to that other than a silent "shit" and a huff from his pipe. I wanted to feel some validation in having silenced him, even if for a moment, but it hardly brought me pleasure digging at that old wound, the smell in the air now still the same as that day.
Unfortunately, or, perhaps fortunately, it would only take Hizo a prolonged huff from his pipe to muster an answer. "And so, because mercy has failed before, it can never work again?"
I didn't know what answer to give, if even I had any, so just sat there, quiet.
"Look," Hizo said again, breaking that silence that must have lasted a good half minute at least. "If it's Boss you're worried about, don't be. It takes a special kind of person to leave the Southern Raiders and even consider staying in the Fire Nation military. He'll get the job done."
I would have to take Hizo's word for it. I said nothing more from there, simply sat with him until the light of his pipe went out, one less firefly to the field.
At some timeless hour we had slipped back into the Shanzi to our respective areas, and though once again, it had taken its time, sleep did eventually come, but not before another voice spoke, above a whisper, but loud enough that I hadn't questioned its existence.
"A good soldier knows when to question his orders, and knows why he follows. To a bad soldier, orders are simply the removal of a muzzle from a mad dog."
I hadn't needed to open my eyes to know that voice–Boss's, awake through it all, passing into and through me no different than a midnight dream might, and I was sure by morning, it would seem as though it was no more than that, and he wouldn't acknowledge as anything more even if I had asked.
So I simply chose to sleep, and to tell myself that I hadn't made the wrong choice, to pray that when the time came, I would be able to do what was required of me to help end this war.
Long Feng
My office was a quiet one those next couple of days, matters that required my attention minimal, both as head of the Dai Li, and as cultural minister to the Earth King, by merit of the fact that my agents had yet to find the elusive treasurer's assistant, Fahan and that it was impossible to make plans for the coming Spring Festival with not a morsel of food yet secured.
Speaking the two out next to one another, it was hard to rationalize just how interconnected the two were, but such was the nature of this damned city, no one issue ever seemed to exist on its own.
And until the first of which, Fahan, was resolved, I was stuck in a perpetual state of limbo that I very much would have liked to sleep part ways through had insomnia not taken hold, and so, the last couple of days had been mostly spent with me sitting in my office chair, praying for the first bout of solid rest that I'd waited days awake in anticipation of, but nonetheless no closer than I was that late night with Joo Dee.
I'd dismissed her for the weekend. It was her father-in-law's nameday and I didn't wish to keep her from the middle district to celebrate it, but that hadn't stopped me from doubling the Dai Li presence in the middle district for the time that she was away, not about to take any chances, not when the chaos and unrest of the lower districts dared to seep into the territory we still held of our city.
Which, at the very least, meant little reason to stay awake.
I couldn't tell if I'd been asleep when I heard the knock at my door. Perhaps only partially. Either way, I'd snapped awake at the sound of it.
"Come," I said, wiping my eyes as I still was in the process of snapping out of my haze. "Come in."
My door opened, and at the sight of Captain Heli, I felt my spirits suddenly lift, as I knew the news it was that he brought.
The route to Lake Laogai was no longer the same as it had once been, but that wasn't to say that over the centuries of the Dai Li's history, they had never considered the possibility, though remote, of a situation so dire as that which we faced now.
In millennium long before my time, when Ba Sing Se had been only a palace, suburbs, an a single inner wall, when still rogue spirits were still believed to have wandered the earth, great catacombs had been dug into the crystalline caves beneath the city for the dead of the king's domain, commoner and royal alike. What once was superstition became tradition, and so as the city had grown before such growth had come at the cost of stability as it did now, so too did the catacombs.
For the last centuries that our history was actively taught, the catacombs had gone into disrepair, the liberal access of our catacombs deemed more a detriment to national security at the behest of the first head of the Dai Li, the Avatar Kyoshi herself. Perhaps one day they would return to their former glory, and perhaps I would have a hand in such a thing in the future. If this city even has one, that is.
For the time being, however, the catacombs served a more important purpose–a means of transit from the upper district all the way to Lake Laogai in the outer ring. Such an endeavor would have otherwise been impossible, or, if not then, as close to that as one could get given the fighting above. So, for the time being, I had to be satisfied with whatever means were available to me to access my Dai Li's base of operations.
"And Lanuo is already present?"
"Yes, sir," Commander Heli said. "Though he wishes to begin the interrogation with you present, as we suspected you might."
"You were right in doing so."
I stepped into the small subterranean train car that would take us through the tunnels, past the two Dai Li earthbenders who would be its mode of propulsion, as was most transport in the Earth Kingdom.
As soon as Heli had boarded two, the tram set into motion and I settled into a stone seat for the ride ahead.
"So where was the boy found?" I asked in reference to Fahan.
"Last night, a boy matching his description was noted by guards in our network to have been seen crossing between the middle and upper district. Two agents pursued from a distance, but somewhere around 0230, he lost our agents."
Our tram moved along, deeper into the subterranean tunnels where the crystals of the catacombs no longer lit the way ahead.
"Do we suspect he spotted our agents?"
"Hard to say. The agents dispatched to track him claim they do not believe themselves to have been noticed."
"Then how did they lose the boy?"
"Reports state that he had been making numerous stops that night between workshops, restaurants, and pleasure houses."
"Tax collection?" I asked.
"Possibly. Fahan resurfaced at around 0510 at which point Agents continued their pursuit."
"That's two and a half hours he was out of our sight. If he knew he was being tracked, that would be more than enough time for him to make preparations."
"Possibly, we have agents attempting to monitor Honang, Qun, and other potential VIPs at this moment in case Fahan found an intermediary to get a message to them delivered."
"Good. That's something at least. So at 0510?"
We re-entered a part of the tunnel once again lit by crystals so I could again see Heli's face. I suspected we now found ourselves beneath the middle district.
"At 0510 agents resumed their pursuit and followed the boy to a middle city apartment building where he has an apartment rented under his name. After requesting my go-ahead and my having granted it, agents moved in to arrest the boy, but he attempted to escape through a back window."
"Don't tell me you didn't have agents stationed outside his window," I groaned as we entered another dark stretch.
"We did, but boy attacked both agents and incapacitated them both."
"He-?"
"Earthbender," Heli interrupted me, knowing precisely what I was going to ask. "Nothing our agents had gathered prior had informed us of such and so it came as a surprise. We entered hot pursuit, but managed to seize the boy after a five-minute chase, after which point he was brought directly to Lake Laogai."
"Witnesses?"
"A few pedestrians and a couple of neighbors who, under my orders, Lanuo has already questioned and determined that they know nothing of the boy. It's safe to assume that the apartment was one among many residences the boy held."
"None requiring a trip to Lake Laogai?"
"We don't believe so, but if you feel otherwise, we have a list of witnesses still being monitored by agents who can promptly be wiped if needed."
"Shouldn't be necessary, but I'll look at that list anyway."
"Of course."
Before too long, we reached the cluster of crystals in the tunnel that always served as a reminder to me of when we had reached the outer ring. For all we knew, Fire Nation forces could have been directly above us already, laying siege to the inner wall. At such a point, I didn't imagine it would take long for the citizens of the outer ring to decide it was high time to cast their lot with them over a government that'd let their world fall to ruin.
As little as I would be able to blame them in such a case, I couldn't let that happen, but so long as I was stuck where I was now, organizing pointless celebrations and festivities for the populace of a city that may not exist in a few month's time, that was an impossibility. Which was all the more reason to end this pointless affair as soon as I could, and end Honang's efforts to see me removed from office.
A change in the air was enough to tell me we had reached Lake Laogai, and soon thereafter, I recognized as our tunnels slowly transformed into the labyrinthian corridors of the Dai Li headquarters, and I knew we were home. And what a home it was, its murky walls, it shrouded corridors, and the sounds of experiments beyond each steel door that I dared not poke my head through, relying instead on tailored reports to tell me better of what it was that transpired down here.
But as always, there were some matters best kept away from reports, and done face to face, and one such now sat in a room at the end of the main corridor, a large stone room large enough to fit a family of badger moles, yet furnished only by a single table and two chairs, atop which one sat Fahan, head planted on the table in front of him, asleep.
In I walked with Heli and Lanuo as the two Dai Li agents flanking Fahan's cell door closed it behind us. I took a seat, flanked by the two men who would be present to ensure the proper passage of this interrogation.
I turned a questioning head towards Heli, wondering just how, in these circumstances, our prisoner could be asleep. To me he returned a smile, then, facing Fahan, uttered a simple "wake," at which point, with a gasp of air as though being born for the first time, the boy's head shot up from the table, now returned to the world, struggling for breath of air that he treated as his first.
I looked back at Heli again, whose return glance told me all I needed to know about the progress of our hypnosis experimentation. I gave the deserving captain a smile, then turned back towards the prisoner who finally seemed to be catching his breath, his panting slowing down, and his attention set on me and the men beside me, but mostly me.
He recognized me, and if he wasn't spooked before, then he sure as hell was now, as I expected one ought to be when put face to face with the head of the Dai Li. he tried to hide it, however, recover his resolve, and didn't do a bad job of it either, mind you. He put on a strong performance, straightened his posture, held his chin up, heaved perhaps as one might be expected to do at a formal family meal, and so just as he might there, prepared himself for the barrage of questions that would follow, just, perhaps not the ones I ended up asking to get us started.
"You're an earthbender," I said, less a question and more of an observation, a surprise to the boy who squinted his eyes at me, and nodded, seeing no point in lying about something he'd been caught in the act of doing by my agents.
"A good one too, from what I hear," I added. "You incapacitated two of my agents."
"What of it?" He asked.
"So why are you still here? Why not burrow through the walls, make your escape if you're so keen on staying away from me and my agents?"
"Why?" He asked with a scoff. "So I can run into the steel plating behind the foot of earth?"
More than a good earthbender then, I realized, if he was able to sense even that. And a boy of these talents for a mere treasurer's assistant. No, he's more than that, I figured. Odds were the kid in front of me was an investment that went beyond simple influence over an ailing treasurer.
"Where were you taught?" I asked.
"I wasn't," the boy said. "Learned on my own."
I was no stranger to knowing how to sneak a glance at something without being seen, and so it was no difficulty for me to catch in my periphery the subtle turn of Lanuo's wrist that told me the boy was telling the truth. I needed the boy to lie about something now, to get a sense of how he did, base an argument off of that, and perhaps get him comfortable enough lying to continue to do so if he believed himself able to get away with it.
My curiosity, however, was not sated quite yet.
"And who were your parents?"
He shrugged. "Some lower district people, I guess. Never met 'em; never cared to."
Truth.
"And how old are you?"
"Sixteen."
A lie. He's been mistaken for younger in the past, despises it, believes himself and his accomplishments befitting those of somebody older, and hates being thought of as less than what he is. He's prideful. I can use that.
"Strange then that you are here, working as assistant to a treasurer rather than where one should expect to see a boy of your talents fighting with our army to defend Ba Sing Se."
"I…I was too young when they began conscription."
I didn't need to see Lanuo's hand to know that as a lie. "You're sixteen. Two years ago you would have been fourteen, conscription age, no?"
Good. Catch him in a lie that I don't need Lanuo to get him to confess to. Make him consider his lies more carefully, the more important ones, not something as menial as this.
"I…I'm fifteen. Just…turned 15."
"Yet you still would have been 14 when able-bodied young men, especially benders, were needed for the war effort. So, what? You were afraid at the time to join the military? Many men are so there's no shame in-"
"I wasn't afraid!" he snapped. "I wanted to!"
"But you were held back," I observed. "By who?"
No answer.
"By Qun?"
"No."
The truth, as I knew it would be.
"By somebody else? The Royal Guard? The Grand Secretariat? The King?"
Still no answer, him knowing something he said could be seen as a truth or lie if he spoke. So it was time to goad him into one then.
"Or nobody, perhaps. Certainly you and your talents would not have been rejected by the military. Did you intend to join the royal guard?"
No answer.
"No, perhaps not. A shame; it's an honorable station. You didn't join the military. You wanted to, but alas, you chose not to serve your nation for…some reason, perhaps viewed yourself above protecting your city."
"I am protecting my city!"
A truth. He believes that much at least.
"From financially unbalanced books?"
He glared at me, caught into a trap of his pride's own making as he spat, "I'm no bookkeeper, but it's where I was needed!"
Truth.
"Needed by who?" I asked. "To do what?"
The boy considered his answers, and settled on none.
I sighed, and turned to Heli. "A simple draft-dodger then. Can we get him in uniform and put on the next carriage to the outer ring with supplies for the troops?"
"The lower city may not allow it to pass through."
"Yes, but with Fahan to protect it, he'll-"
"I didn't dodge a fucking draft! The boy yelled, almost scared that seemed to be what it actually was he might be here for. And they called him bright. "I remained on the king's directive to protect his interests."
Truth. And for quite the generalization he was sure to believe in, I could see that.
So, I would press.
"You are with the royal guard then?"
"No," he answered. "Not old enough."
Truth. Of course it was. The Royal Guard only accepted those 18 years of age or older after, preferably, 4 years of duty served with the military, but, granted, exceptions were known to have been made.
"Then chosen by the king himself?" I asked. "A rare honor; one his council will have been informed of."
"Don't see how that's my concern."
I smiled. "It's your concern when matters involving the realm's financials I am tasked with are being interfered with by a boy who has his fingers where they ought not to be. I believe such a thing is deemed espionage."
"I was tasked with handling Qun's affairs."
Truth, of course.
"Not by Qun," I said. "So the King chose you specifically to handle Qun's affairs?"
He refused to answer, precisely as I needed.
"The King's authority is the only one that would have leave to make such an order." That, or the man whose voice was that of the King, the Grand Secretariat. "An order from any other is conspiracy of which you are an accomplice, the punishment for which is death–a sentence my Dai Li have royal prerogative to perform without trial during states of emergency."
"The Grand Secretariat," the boy sighed.
"What of him?"
"He manages staff assignments; you should know. He appointed me to assist in running Qun's affairs."
Truth.
"Why you?" I asked.
He shrugged.
"Because of your proficiency in earthbending?"
He scoffed.
"Because he trusts you?"
"I guess."
Truth.
"Because you've worked with him before."
No answer.
I continued. "Because you worked with him before and it was his word that kept the draft officer's notice away from your front doorstep. That, or you're a coward who dodged the draft and got lucky enough to find justifiable employment in the inner city."
Such an accusation wouldn't do. Not for him. "He sought me out; he kept me from the military."
"So you could balance a sick treasurer's books. There are a hundred stewards in the palace alone who can run messages and balance books, but that's not what you were doing, was it?"
"It was," he answered.
Truth. A bad question on my part.
"But you were doing more."
"I also helped in the passage of funds and supplies into and around the city."
Truth. Closer.
"Supplies such as?"
"Medicine, weapons, raw materials,-"
"Food?"
"Maybe. I don't remember everything that passes through."
A lie. Shouldn't have said that last part.
"Yes you do," I said. "Which is why you were chosen. Was food among what you helped in the shipment and transfer of?"
"Probably," he shrugged. "Yes, there was food we moved."
"Moved where?"
"See Qun if you're so interested!" Fahan groaned. "Look at his books, they say everything."
A lie.
"Not everything," I said. "What are they missing?"
"I don't know. I must have missed something."
Lies, both.
"We know that's not true. I saw these books; these transfer reports, and not a single food shipment had a final destination noted, just constant transfers across the city, so where are they?"
"I don't know!"
A lie.
"So valuable food being delivered into the city is being lost under your purview? Food required to feed Ba Sing Se's citizenry, and you lose it. So it's not cowardice you are guilty of, but incompetence, hardly a step up."
Another jab at his pride, one which he noticed, and so scoffed at, a simple "Fuck you" all he had to say on the matter.
"Where was the food intended to be delivered? You would know this much."
"Some warehouses in the middle district like anything else."
Truth.
"And did they make it there?"
"I don't know."
Lie.
"I thought you said you also helped with the deliveries."
"Not all of them."
Truth.
"But it still was your job to ensure all deliveries went as planned. So did you succeed in your job or did you allow these deliveries to go missing under your watch?"
I caught him at a crossroads, and either answer would bring me closer to what I needed.
"They," he paused, perhaps realizing this too, but still believing himself to have an out. He did not. "They went missing."
Truth.
"To the rest of the Earth Kingdom, perhaps, but you know where they wound up."
"No!" A desperate lie.
Lanuo confirmed as much.
"You're lying," I said. "You arranged for transfers of supplies to property I held in the middle district, then arranged for the deliberate disappearance of these resources, ensuring you had no need to document where they did eventually wind up while setting the blame upon me."
"It was probably stolen!"
"Because you allowed it to be stolen."
"Of course not!"
A lie again, but he was on the backstep, sweating profusely, scared out of his mind, at the end of his rope, splitting at the seams, just the least bit more pressure…
"Because you are conspiring against the Earth Kingdom to deprive them of necessary food to-"
"There was a final transfer I didn't document!"
And snap.
Truth.
I leaned forward, and there was but one more question to ask.
"Where?"
Iroh
He hadn't seen me come in. For all of his military training, instruction from the Royal Fire Nation Academy, even my son, prince of the Fire Nation, Lu Ten, wasn't above so absorbing himself in something that he lost all sense of the world around him.
He did the same thing now, staring at his collection of maps, focusing so intently on them as though to try to change the reality of the war by sheer force of will. It wasn't the most outlandish prospect, but often, such required a few steps and proxies in between will and result.
"You know," I said, snapping my son back to attention no different than how a drill instructor's whistle might. "No matter how much you look at that map, the enemy will not suddenly disappear."
Lu Ten chuckled, somehow still finding amusement in his old man's jests after so long a time. He backed away from the map and looked at me, a smile on his face as he asked, "You speak from experience? How long would you spend looking at war maps waiting for something to change?"
"Enough that they eventually did, or at least, they did when I started seeing double from exhaustion."
We both chuckled, but even then, that wouldn't stop Lu Ten's eyes from drifting back to his maps, as though even now, he expected something to happen.
"Truly, my son," I said. "You must not dwell on this. You will spend your days believing war to only be the maps and tokens ahead of you and so when you find yourself on the field, and your plan crumbles before your eyes as even the best plans do, you will not know how to react."
"I know that, father," he said with that lingering hint of annoyed youth upon hearing the same lessons instilled in them since their earliest days. "But it just feels like we're missing something."
"I'm certain we are," I answered with a smile.
"And that doesn't bother you?"
"What is the first thing I taught you?" I asked, thinking back on conversations long past and wondering if my son remembered them just as well as I did, if not the first time I told him, then perhaps the hundreds of times after.
He sighed, rolling his eyes, but the smile on his face betrayed his annoyance. "No plan survives first contact with the enemy."
"Hmm," I answered, satisfied, for a moment at least. Even with him talking to me, I could see his eyes occasionally darting back to the map, positive that there was just that one detail he had missed.
And finally, he spoke on it. "But isn't it also to be said that one's greatest chance of defeating your enemy is to know your enemy?"
"Hmm." I smiled. That they did. My son knew how to quote his Royal Academy tutelage, I gave him that much. "They do." I had come to invite my son to tea with his father, but found now that perhaps my best chance of doing so was not to admonish him, but instead perhaps to humor him, or, at the very least, give him that which he sought, to be listened to. "Tell me then what we know of our enemy," I said as I approached the board.
He nodded, and turned towards it too. "We already know their general numbers, troop compositions, we've gone over that dozens of times over the briefings."
"And what we haven't-" I pressed him, wondering what it was he would mention first: the enemy commander, the reinforcements likely to supplement their lines, the blindspot behind their lines where the Earth Kingdom could have been planning any number of things, or perhaps something else.
"Is the enemy commander. A man named Hondu. It's his forces on the other side of the river, and his we'll be up against tomorrow."
"Hmm," I said. So he'd done his research, read the reports I thought only my eyes cared to see, but how much? I bid him continue, and, understanding my directive, he nodded.
"General Hondu only recently joined the frontline," my son said. "Prior, his forces had been stationed in the inner city of Ba Sing Se, likely serving as a deterrence against the unrest in the lower city. As the lower city was lost, somehow, his forces made their way to the outer ring, and if rumor is to be believed, against royal orders which he ignored in favor of fighting us."
There was a hint of something in his voice when he said this. Admiration? Respect? Neither of which would be misplaced. "You respect him for this," I observed.
"He disobeyed his king's orders to fight his own people in favor of entering a far more dangerous frontline against who he believed to be his people's true enemy. He's deserving of some of my respect at the very least."
I smiled at that. One of our nation's greatest mistake over the last century has been a demonization of the enemy with so little foresight of the fact that our very plan was to rule them all someday, to such a grim point as we now found ourselves having been responsible for the genocide of two peoples and cultures: those of the Air Nomads and the Southern Water Tribe. How my son spoke now was true, and it was sentiment similar to his that was the only thing standing between us and becoming rulers of the ashes of the world we'd promised to save.
"He's dedicated to fighting us," Lu Ten continued. "That much is clear, but he strikes me as one prone to blind aggression. We may yet use that against him, goad him into overcommitting to a counterattack if such an opportunity presents itself.
"A reputation is a good place to begin in understanding one's enemy," I said. "But to over-rely on it could become our undoing as much as his. He escaped the chaos of the lower city with an army behind his back beneath the notice of rioters and his own king alike. Perhaps he is not the blind bull we'd like to believe him to be."
He hadn't thought of that, and though I hadn't been scolding him, there was a flash of shame across his face upon realizing he hadn't considered that. It was not my intention, but fortunately, a sturdy man he was, that shame soon gave way to understanding. "There is a blind spot behind their lines," Lu Ten said. "Likely a mustering area for reinforcements, but we have no idea what."
"Sometimes, knowing that our enemy is so desperate to hide something tells us just as much as what it is they are hiding."
"They understand the weakness of their frontline," Lu Ten said. "They are prepared for us to make landing on their side of the river and likely will be unable to contest it as much as they would like, meaning they are preparing to face us on their turf. They will seek to cut off the landing forces we send and isolate them."
"How do you suspect they will do this?"
"They may surrender their trench line to allow our forces to be caught deeper inland, bombard the shore with artillery, perhaps even employ gas to sew fear into our ranks. To focus our own artillery on the shore to enable an easy landing would be a waste. We would be better off targeting the rear of their trench line to prevent retreat and maximize their collateral and suppress their own artillery. We keep our landing ships afloat in case reinforcements are needed or a retreat is ordered, and we maintain flexibility to allow our lines to bend rather than break, but-"
"But?" I pressed him.
"But it still feels like we're missing something."
I put a hand on his shoulder. "We always will."
It wasn't the comfort to him I'd hoped it would be. He shrugged it off nearly as soon as I'd placed it on his shoulder, though not necessarily out of disrespect so much as to retreat to a table near the end of his tent where he recovered a cup of water for himself. "We're sending our men into the blind. It doesn't feel right."
"We understand the realities of this war, and so do the men who serve under you. Do not mistake their rank for a lack of self-conceptualization. War is no simple thing, and we face an enemy ready to die to defend their homes. None of what we must do will be easy, and the soldiers we are to send into battle know this as well as any other. Even in the fog of war, they are anything but blind."
And still, he was unsatisfied. He set down his cup, and turned to me to utter the words I had hoped beyond anything I wouldn't have to hear.
"I would join my men in the assault."
"Lu Ten,-"
"It's not right that they face uncertainty alone without the man who would have them march into it."
"Your place of command and your mind is critical to your men. It is your oversight of the battle that will determine its success and the survival of your men."
"I would lead from the front," he said. "As you yourself would, as you yourself have."
"This war is more than a single river, my son," I said as my hand found his shoulder again. "At any time as this battle is fought, the situation of this war may change. A flank may weaken, an opening to the east or to the west may present itself as they scramble to reinforce their front, and I would need your mind to help me react accordingly."
Lu Ten scoffed, "You hardly need me for that."
"Perhaps not, but it is there that is your place, seeing the greater picture, and knowing that wars are won outside of battles just as much as in them.
Lu Ten sighed, and though I took no great pleasure in it, I knew that I had made my point. He nodded to me, and placed a hand on my shoulder in return as well, and from there, it was a small step for me to embrace my son, the weight of the world on his shoulders at so young an age when still the glory and camaraderie of war were at the forefront of his mind. I knew I would not be able to stop him forever, but if I could at least hold him back for a time, then I would have done my duty as a father.
I smiled at him, and patting his back one last time before separating, said, "Come. Night is approaching, and I wish for a cup of tea with my son before we are to wage war on the marrow."
"If you think you can turn me into a tea lover now just because all might be over tomorrow, you're going to be disappointed."
I laughed.
And he did too, the greatest sound that a father could hear.
Long Feng
The warehouse was one with no registered address, in part because it was no warehouse, and additionally because, for all intents and purposes, it was not part of our city.
There was no door that led into it, no street that rested in front, no walls on the surface that designated its position as a building, merely a hollow of a wall between two storage centers in the commercial zone of the Liuxiayu district, accessible by earthbending alone that took one to a tunnel, and these tunnels to the excavation site of an old quarry whose stone had made up the original wall of the inner ring.
And it would be there in that world beneath the earth that Fahan, under armed guard of a dozen Dai Li ready to stake his life on his word, would take us through its decaying walkways to a wall that was unlike the others, one that opened inwards and revealed, finally, the bounty that had been promised.
Fahan was held aside and so I entered, Heli and Lunao by my side, bearing witness now to that which had gone through so much to be hidden from the eyes of the world, and so threatened to see that same world turn its eyes on me and deem me a traitor to my nation. It was all here.
My mind was not mathematical, but I estimated that even from what I saw here alone, walls of crates and barrels of foodstuffs that Honang had required from no shortage of methods that I intended to question Fahan about in due time, there was still only about just enough to buy this city a few more weeks if not a month at the very most than what I had already anticipated for it, and about a third of which was to be wasted on a single festivity–a celebration I had but a few remaining days to prepare for.
And preparations I would make, perhaps not those the King, and certainly not Honang would expect, but that which would do what both of them failed to do in this city's most desperate hour–whatever was needed to keep us all alive.