GENTLEMEN

< Athaire Starlight Hotel

UTC+2 0510 PM SAT

Photo Studio, Room Hawkeye, Top Floor >

One Shot hesitated before the door. Not like he wanted to pose for any pictures. If Angel was in it, then it was a different story, but among guys…

"You're not going in?" a man asked behind him. Big glasses that made him look like an owl popped into One Shot's vision.

"I guess I am," he replied halfheartedly, and together they went inside. The owl quickly went over to the other penguins at the stage, surrounding the main penguin, Joffrey. One Shot headed to the bar, noticing Spencer was already filling up on his fair share of drinks.

"Alex," Spencer said, noticing him, "come here." He took him over to a corner, outside of anyone's hearing range before slapping him on the shoulder. "I didn't think you were a family guy."

"My sister will likely not get married again. Though I doubt showing up once counts as very caring."

"Right. Family. Honestly, they take up too much time. Don't have children. They take up way too much space in your life."

One Shot glanced over to Joffrey, Spencer's son, looking rather solemn at the owl guy even though the others were joking around. For a moment, he felt something like pity for the guy. Even though he couldn't remember his parents, having Spencer as father was surely not an easy feat.

"I wasn't planning on it," One Shot answered slightly delayed.

"Anyway, I had the photographers arrange separate shots to get away from my ex-wife. If she knew I was talking to someone about work, she'd likely have kicked me out of here. But we do need to talk something serious for a moment." His expression turned grim.

One Shot gave him his full attention. When Spencer said something was serious, it was. No doubt about it. He wasn't the type to joke around, not when it was about work. In his mind, the most likely scenario was that it was about the promotion. He had never disappointed anyone in a mission before. As his senior, he'd have a few words to say about it. While One Shot guessed the topic correctly, the direction was an unexpected one.

"About the mission you failed last night," Spencer began, "we were lucky."

That Spencer had stored the word lucky in his dictionary alone came as a surprise. "Pardon?"

"I mean, you see, I just got informed over the flight over, but there was a mistake. Usually, this never happens. It should never happen. The intel we got was off. The target last night never showed up; he was never there, to begin with. They send in a citizen instead, cowardly bastards. In any case, it's good that you messed up. Otherwise, we'd have a hell lot of more trouble to get out of."

He couldn't be hearing this right. A mistake? The secret agency? The agency specializing in information acquisition? Not a chance. This was not a simple mistake.

As if Spencer had read his thoughts, he continued, "The current hypothesis is that we have a double-agent, but we don't yet know who it is. I checked in with the others as soon as I arrived, and we have reached a new agreement about the promotion. We want the one who finds the rat to get it. See it as a simple test. The others won't be informed about it until Monday, so you have a bit of an advantage. For today, you can just spend the time off enjoying the wedding, but in your shoes, I'd start the hunt tomorrow. Of course, if you need any support along the way, I'll be happy to help out. Clearances, backup, you just name it. As I said earlier, I am rooting for you and you only. Did you know that this time around, they even want to give women a chance? Can you imagine? Having a woman as a superior. Hell, I'd quit right then and there. I get the modernization drive, sure, but come on, there's a limit to everything. Emotional creatures should stay out of decision-making roles. Next thing you know, and there will be a child suggested as CEO." Spencer continued on and on, but One Shot was no longer listening.

A spy within a secret agency. Someone had infiltrated our ranks. But who? And to what aim? A million questions throbbed through his head, in sync with the pumping of his blood through their veins. Despite the mess, one realization slowly started to crystallize: he almost killed an innocent last night. And if Angel hadn't shown up, he would have. He felt light-headed. And sick to his stomach. "Would you excuse me for a minute?" He managed to say without throwing up.

"Ah, sure, son," Spencer said, seemingly deflating at the lack of interest One Shot showed in his monologue. One Shot brushed strands of his hair back, feeling conflicted. What he needed now was some air to clear his thoughts.