Secret Investigation

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" I ask Mr. Chekhovsky the moment I open his office door.

"Yes… come in," he answers, shifting his gaze from the document he's reading. "Have you taken care of Liam?"

"I have, Sir."

Mr. Chekhovsky exhales in relief. "I'm sorry for putting you in this mess."

"It's okay, Sir. It's my job," I say calmly, though I subtly use one hand to cover my other, which is trembling.

"You've killed people before, haven't you?"

"I… I have, Sir… but…" I shut my eyes, as if suppressing a tear, and purse my lips. "But… it was self-defense," I add, playing my part.

"I'm so sorry," Mr. Chekhovsky says, his tone genuinely apologetic.

I sigh and clear my throat. "Like I said, it's okay, Sir. My job is to protect you. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure your safety," I declare with full determination.

A faint smile appears on his face. "Thank you. Please, sit."

I take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"I need another favor," he says, "but this time, it doesn't involve killing anyone."

I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"I know you were reading lips back then," he continues.

His words genuinely surprise me. "I saw your eyes locked on our lips the entire time," he adds.

"I… I'm sorry, Sir," I stammer. "It's just… a skill I have. I can't help it. I… I won't do it again," I say, my hand subtly unlocking the strap on my gun holster, preparing for the worst.

"No, it's fine," he says casually. "Since you already know the situation, I don't need to explain it again." He leans forward slightly. "I need you to investigate this matter—discreetly."

"Pardon me, Sir?" I ask, caught off guard.

"The missing weapons. It's obvious that this is an inside job. Everyone involved is a suspect… even Sternov," he says, whispering the name of his most trusted man.

"But, Sir… Mr. Sternov is—"

"Trust is temporary, Chang. With the right amount of compensation, it can be bought."

"I see…"

"So, I want you to secretly find out who did it. You can't use the company's resources; otherwise, they'll get suspicious. If you succeed, you'll receive a generous bonus. But if you get caught, I'll have to deny any knowledge of this… and you'll be executed."

I swallow my nonexistent saliva. "O… okay, Sir."

"Good. That's all. You may go."

I walk out of Mr. Chekhovsky's office with a smile.

"What exactly are you up to?" Thief asks.

"I want to destroy his empire if I can."

"What? Are you insane?"

"He supplies weapons to terrorists."

"You're only being paid to kill the man."

"Yes… but if I can take him and his empire down at the same time, wouldn't that be even better?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because terrorists kill innocent people."

"I'm going to rewrite your algorithm to check if you're actually an angel."

I burst into laughter. "My main objective is still killing him. But if I can make his entire operation collapse…"

"So, you're the one stealing his weapons?"

"No, of course not! I'm going to find out who did and tell him."

"So he'll kill the traitor?"

Before I can answer, another call comes in. I glance at the monitor. Bob.

"I'll talk to you later," I say to Thief. "Bob's calling."

"You're handling too many things at once," Thief warns.

"I can handle it. Bye for now."

I end my call with Thief and accept Bob's. "What is it, Bob?"

—————

I sit at the bar, sipping my beer while watching a group of people at my three o'clock. They're not teenagers. In fact, they're prosecutors. How do I know? Well, aside from their clothes—most of them are still in formal office suits—one of them is Jennifer.

From the way she's taking charge, ordering drinks and food for the table, I can tell it was her idea to bring them here. The others seem like her subordinates. They must be celebrating something.

It's only Tuesday, and according to Bob—who has been tailing her under my orders since Monday—this is her first night out after work.

Jennifer moves to the dance floor with a cocktail in hand. I lower my head slightly as she passes behind me, making sure she doesn't see me. She dances among the crowd, swaying to the music. Since it's a weekday, the pub isn't too packed.

Then, suddenly, a guy approaches her.

I immediately stand and head toward her, moving swiftly to intercept him. A couple steps into my path, blocking my way. I shove them aside without a second thought, ignoring their protests.

By the time I reach Jennifer, she's already laughing and chatting intimately with the guy.

I freeze for a second before quickly turning around, but it's too late.

"Bennet!" she calls loudly. "What are you doing here?"

I turn back to face her, forcing a grin.

"I thought I saw you from afar, so I came closer to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me," I say smoothly.

She nods, still swaying her body in rhythm with the music.

"Who is he?" the guy asks her.

"Just an acquaintance," she replies indifferently.

Then, she wraps her arms around his shoulders—an open invitation for him to dance with her. Of course, the guy accepts without hesitation.

I decide to return to my seat, but my eyes never leave them.

—————

I had only been waiting under the tree in front of Jennifer's apartment for fifteen minutes when I spotted the same guy from the pub stepping out of the building's front gate.

I tail him silently until we reach a CCTV blind spot. That's when I strike—grabbing him from behind, wrapping an arm around his neck, and pressing my gun to his temple.

"Hee—!!" he yelps, startled.

"Don't make a sound, or you die," I warn before he can finish his outburst.

He nods quickly, raising both hands beside his ears.

"Who told you to approach her?" I demand.

"What? No one!" he stammers.

"Don't lie to me!" I hiss, tightening my grip.

"I'm… I'm not lying!" he gasps.

"Then why did you approach her?"

"Why? She's… attractive… that's… that's all. Are you her boy—"

"What did you two do in her apartment? Why was it so quick? Do you have premature ejaculation or something?"

"What? No!" He struggles against my grip but fails. He sighs. "I didn't do anything to her, okay? She said she doesn't sleep with someone on the first date."

I tighten my hold until he's nearly choking.

"I'm not lying! I didn't even go inside her apartment! We just kissed at the door!"

"Then what? You killed her?"

"What?! No!!"

"Call her."

"What?"

"As proof that she's still alive. Call her."

"What? Why don't you just go and see her yo—"

I press the barrel of my gun against his skull. "Call her!"

"Alright… alright!" he surrenders, pulling his phone from his pocket. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything you want. Put it on speaker."

He dials Jennifer's number. She picks up on the fourth ring.

"H… hi, Jen…"

"Hi, Marty. What's up?" she replies casually.

"N… nothing. I think… I think I have to cancel our second date tomorrow."

"Oh… do you have something urgent to do?"

Marty glances at me, a bead of sweat dripping from his jaw. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Oh, well… okay, then. Good night."

Marty mumbles a good night before ending the call.