He was standing right to my right. A pale, thin shadow. He had managed to hide his presence from my instincts. A mark of professionalism. The kind of job a senior spy would do.
"You're dumber than I thought…" he said. There was neither a shred of sincerity nor a hint of anger in his voice. More like a professional tone. As if his only goal had been to trap me from the start. When you think about it, that's exactly how it was. The corridor being empty, the archive-like place on the lowest floor without proper security. It was all a game from the beginning. From the very first bullet I fired, it was a planned game.
"I'll make this quick…" he said, pushing the gun closer to me. "Hand over the document."
"Did you know it was there?" I asked without moving a muscle.
"I'm not here to chat," he replied in a commanding tone. "Give me the document and the notebook."
"Make it quick," he said in a monotonous but demanding voice. I didn't answer for a while. I was trying to buy time. If only he lowered the gun for a moment, I'd have a chance to escape. But unfortunately, I was already exposed. I had no choice but to either get rid of him or turn him to my side. The second option was so unlikely. He had already cocked the gun. The only thing left to blow my brains out was to gently pull the trigger.
"Do you think you'll get out of here alive?" he asked, cracking a slight break in his professionalism.
"Neither of us will get out alive…" I replied to the captain. I had already aimed my gun between his legs. One bullet would cause irreversible damage, enough to make him bleed out until death. "If we die, we both die."
"You sound too sure…" he said without any bodily reaction. "Right now, the advantage is still mine."
"Do you really believe that?"
"You talk too much," he said, maintaining his monotony. He had already pressed the gun to my temple. The easiest way to blow my head into pieces. I cocked my gun in response.
"You're not in a position to kill me right now…" I said, smirking. I tried to play with his mind. "If you kill me here, you'll be convicted of murder. Because I left no trace behind. You won't find a single piece of evidence that I infiltrated."
"What's your connection with Remzi?" Hasan changed the subject.
"None except he's my superior," I replied. "I was only investigating the murder."
"Do you expect me to believe that?"
"Up to you," I said, returning to a monotonous tone. "I have no reason to kill that man."
"What are you doing here then?"
"The fools outside wouldn't let me in, so I had to infiltrate…"
"Cut the crap." he said quietly, with anger.
"Do you really believe a man who ruined his career by disobeying orders just to make the operation successful in Cyprus is a mole? That he'd kill an aide who had almost no military influence? Or risk his life to get a single unrelated document?"
"Nonsense…"
"If you're so sure, go check yourself," I said, extending the document toward him.
"Forman?" he asked, not even bothering to take the document. He seemed uninterested. There was something else he was after. Forman? Was he working for him? Trying to cover something up?
"How do you know that name?" I asked.
"That's none of your business," he said. He moved the gun one last time. I felt the warmth of his finger gripping the gun's handle for some reason. It was no longer just pressed against my head; he was pushing my skull forward slightly. It was like he had taken what he needed. Only one last trash remained to be cleaned up on him. He looked at me one last time. It was as if he had predicted this from the start. Well, it wasn't exactly prediction—it was instinct. Even without evidence, he sensed something was going on. Slowly, he pulled the trigger. I felt my eyes involuntarily close.
Bang!
Missing at such a close distance was nearly impossible. I opened my eyes slowly. In front of me lay a body covered in blood. Three bullets had hit right in the heart.
"Let's get out of here…" the captain said, grabbing my arm and starting to drag me toward the stairs. We were heading straight out of the building, as if nothing had happened.
"What the hell is going on?"
"I'll explain everything," he cut me off. "We're being watched."
We hadn't even been noticed amidst the chaos. Like mocking fate, we passed right in front of everyone. We reached the back door and threw ourselves outside the garden, climbing the outer wall. Behind us was an old motorcycle.
"Get on…" Hasan said. "There's no time."
"You kidding me?"
"Get on, screw it!" he ordered sharply. We rode out of the city for about an hour without a word. The monsoon had stopped just after we left. The August sun above was glaringly bright, like it had risen on us even though it was only noon.
The captain seemed extremely uneasy. He checked every corner, scrutinizing every kilometer as if someone was aware of him. As if they were after us. Still—
Finally, we arrived at a small village a few kilometers east of Izaki. It was a meadow surrounded by rain, with yellow grass turning green. We got off the bike, both of us blinking against the setting sun. Both of us were looking at houses that were scattered near the grassland with mere eyes.
"We're safe," the captain said, leaning on his motorcycle. "At least for now."
"Are we going to end this circus now, captain?" I said, breaking the silence.
"Forget the captain…" he said, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He took one for himself and handed me another. "Call me Hasan," he said while lighting his cigarette. Strangely, his accent had shifted, tinged with a slight Greek lilt. "You could say I'm half Greek."
I wasn't one to nitpick orders, so I complied.
"So what exactly happened?" I asked, taking a deep drag.
"I brought you to a remote village east of South Vietnam, and now we're smoking cigarettes," he said seriously, with a tone of irony.
"..."
"You're probably wondering why I didn't shoot you there," he began from an unrelated angle. He seemed to read my mind. Well, it was obvious I was going to ask. "Because I knew you knew Forman was the real culprit," he continued his monologue. "Just like I knew your favorite song was 'House of the Rising Sun,' or that you used to sneak out every night at military school, or that you change your boxers twice a day…"
"All that…"
"Long story…" he cut me off. "It's so long and complicated even I sometimes doubt its reality. If I told you, you'd probably doubt it too."
"Who are you, Hasan?"
"Just a simple man…" he replied. "Fighting against a greater evil…"
"A greater evil?"
"Just a phrase you've heard before… that's why I used it," he said, leaning back. "Like talking to someone inside your head—his name is Kiph. Or rather, his nickname."
"Do you know him?"
"I've met him once…" he said, taking another drag. "And because I met him, I got you out of there. That alone was enough proof to me who you really are."
"Who are you?" I repeated.
"Not more than a simple man," he gave the same answer. "A Greek revert. Someone which your paths crossed."
"About Forman's existence or…"
"I know everything you can think of," he said, exhaling slowly. "I've known from the start. I'm here to stop him. Just like you walked this path."
"You speak like you're reading my mind…" I said, taking a deep breath.
"What I do is close to that…" he said, taking the last puff of his cigarette, then flicking it away. "I know your story because of that. If I had learned you were with Forman…" he turned to me. "I'd blow your brains out."
"I learned everything about you there…" I said, turning my head back to the meadow before us. "I saw your memories. That's my power. Thats why i didnt kill you. you werent a threat"
"What?"
"I told you you wouldn't believe it. The moment I touched you, I saw everything."
"To put it simply…" he said,"We're facing a threat over 120 years old. Do you know the story about an old English merchant?"
"Man, still you didn't clarify anything." i said