Chapter Eighteen

My heart stops short of beating before I release a jagged breath. The boy hardly turns to address us, clearly undisturbed by our presence, a sign that he is just a shadow of the ghost I see above him. Wherever he was bound to place the dice in his hand, he instead places it on the table, using his now free hand to curl a piece of his snow-white hair. No one bothers to snap his attention back to us for which I'm personally glad, as this gives me time to watch him. He remains in silent thought, continuing to play with his hair. I wonder, how close he must have been to L, if he had any relationship with him, spent enough time to imitate enough of him. The way he sits: crouched instead of normally, absently playing with toys the way L used to play with food (if he wasn't eating it), a stoic facial expression, only youthful and boyish rather than dazed and tired. Much of him looks so much like L, his silent behaviour like L, but some part of me recognises that this boy is his own person. The fact that he doesn't immediately greet us for instance. But the real surprise comes when he speaks: 'Frejda Sofer and Martha Abdul, both of you have worked on the Kira assignment since it first began in 2006, correct?'

A child's voice plagued with the grave seriousness of an adult.

'Yes,' Martha answers.

'My understanding is that it was Ms Sofer who worked with the Task Force in Japan and was personally hired by L as an addition to the team.'

'Yes,' I nod, finding my voice at last.

'Frejda and I brought over some evidence from her time in Japan as well as what we've gathered in France regarding Kira's activity. Though most of this information may be outdated, I believe it may contain some valuable beginning to the case that can help catch Kira.'

Pause.

'Ms Sofer, tell me, while you were in Japan, how well acquainted were you with the content of the Notebook?'

'Well acquainted.' Where is he going with this?

'The Notebook allows for the user to kill criminals with heart attacks, correct?'

'Yes. But there are other rules to that.'

'Explain.'

'If a person's name is written with the correct face and the writer doesn't specify the cause of death, the person dies of a heart attack. But the writer has the option to write the cause of death.'

'Interesting. I assume you believe Kira took advantage of this?'

'I do. I personally believe that he showed this tactic deliberately when the twelve FBI agents were killed.'

That warrants me an eye contact from Near. The room falls silent at the mention of the loss the U.S. suffered at the start of this case, a reminder how they backed out with their tails between their legs. It doesn't bother me though and with the look Near gives me, he could care less. I continue: 'We suspected, or rather, L suspected, that Kira was someone connected to the Japanese Police. On top of that, we had reviewed the details of a certain agent, especially in his final moments, which led us to believe that Kira was following him.'

'But how could you tell?' the director interrupts, 'if you never saw Kira following him.'

'It was just a minute deduction brought on by a small detail. We watched the videos of the cameras that recorded the day of the agents' murder, specifically one agent: Raye Penber.' I move closer to the table, emptying out my old reports, specifically the ones from that time, 'he was seen boarding a train of a route that was supposed to last an hour. However, Penber was on that train for an hour and a half. Furthermore,' I pull up two screen shots, 'notice how when Penber is boarding the route, he carries an envelope with him but when he leaves the train, it's gone. I was not able to get a copy of the video due to the secrecy of the investigation but before Penber died, he seemed to be struggling to look into the train.'

'It seems like a plausible deduction,' a dark-haired man comments.

'But that's not all.'

Near looks up at me, most of his face hidden beneath his rough hair.

'Days later, as we were speculating the possibility, Raye Penber's fiancée, former agent Naomi Misora, mysteriously disappeared. While we suspected it was suicide, L thought it was further proof we needed to move the investigation. In hindsight, I believe Kira used the Notebook to kill off people he could deem as threats through means other than a heart attack. It's possible that suicide may have been is way of getting to Misora but that's the brilliance of it. If the police busy themselves into investigating every accidental death or suicide, it's a, how you say, wild goose chase.'

'I see,' Near says, 'So the possibility of Kira killing Takimura becomes fact.' He pauses to think. 'Alright everyone, this is how we steady the case. Gevanni, you and Ms Abdul will work on tracking the kidnappers. I expect we'll get a call from L#2 shortly to update us on the kidnapping. Until then, we'll all have to stand by.'

'Near,' Mr Rester interrupts, 'I just checked the news. A plane bound for L.A. made a detour. It looks like a hi-jacking.'

'It must be the kidnappers,' the dark-haired man notes, 'Why would they go through such lengths to make the exchange? And openly at that?'

'What exchange?' I demand.

'The kidnappers arranged an exchange, the Notebook for Sayu Yagami.'

'Zut!'

'Where are they making the exchange?' Martha asks.

'The plan, as far as we're informed, is for the exchange to happen in L.A. But that detoured plane looks to be headed someplace else.'

Someone's phone rings, breaking and intensifying the tension all at once. The director answers the phone and immediately puts it on speaker:

'N,'

I grab the table for support the moment I hear his voice. Even over the phone, it has the power to still my breath and quicken my heartbeat with frustration. I try to recover before anyone notices, and find Martha not fooled with her worried glare directed at me.

'By now you're aware of our current situation. I need you to do me a favour. Can you notify the airlines, police agencies and military on your end not to take any action yet?'

'What's he thinking?' Mr Rester gasps, 'I never realized he was this unreliable!'

He must be in a bind.

'Alright L,' Near responds, playing with his dice, 'agreed. We'll locate the landing site and keep surveillance over the area using our satellite video. If there's anything else we can do, don't hesitate to let us know.'

Oy! This is all over Sayu. How far will he take this? How far has he gone?

'Ms Sofer,' Near calls, 'a word?'

Assuming he means privately, I grab a chair and sit next to him. It doesn't make it anymore private but at least we can whisper or talk quietly.

'It all depends on how this goes, but I think it would be both in our interests if you return to work with the Japanese Police.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well,' he plays with a strand of his hair, 'even if the Japanese Police have proven to be incompetent, I believe that it is still in their best interest to apprehend Kira. I plan to use this to our advantage and end the case once and for all.'

'I fail to understand how my returning to work with them will help.'

'They know you, therefore they trust you. You can be the bridge and you don't have to be open about it. I think that if Ms Abdul was your only contact with the SPK you can find some form of communication with us.'

'So, I'm like a double agent.'

'Not entirely. How ever this ends, I'll propose a partnership with the Japanese Police and you can be the gift card. So long as they know you are the tie that works between N, seeing as they already trust you, we'll also gain their trust.'

Or a Trojan Horse, I wish to say aloud. This plan sounds risky and I know I'll be bombarded with questions when I make it there. Already I can see their faces wide with surprise and anxiety. If anything, I'm bound to lose their trust through this. But seeing that Near is not being indirect, nor asking me to hide my association with the SPK, I wonder how they'll take this. A gift card, he said. Trojan Horse is definitely a better fit.

'Understood,' I nod finally.

'Perfect. Ms Abdul will remain with us as a member of the SPK and as I stated, you'll be the only one contacting Ms Abdul but if I or anyone else will have to make a move personally, you'll understand.'

In other words, I'll find out with the rest of the Task Force.

'Lastly, because you'll be working with the Japanese Police, you'll have about as much information as we give the team. Report to us what you think will be valuable if you must, but keep it guarded in case the Japanese Police consider it a leak.'

'Right.'

A beep-beep stops him from continuing. A video surveillance of Chief Yagami holding a brief case whilst walking out in the middle of nowhere shows up on the large monitor. Near makes the call to inform 'L'. Worry clenches my mind as I survey the situation. How the Hell are they going to make an exchange in a place like that? Suddenly, from the desert ground, a door opens upwards, revealing what I suspect is a staircase leading to an underground facility. Zut!

'They're underground?' Mr Rester gasps.

'Isn't that interesting?' Near smiles.

'What do we do now?' Martha asks. 'We can't follow them underground.'

'Wait,' Near commands, 'this is in their hands now.'

Chief Yagami!

'L,' Near calls, 'do you have a plan? You can't think that handing the Notebook over to a complete stranger is a good idea, do you?'

Complete silence responds from his end.

I wonder if there is any other way out of this situation, given the limitations. And if there is, will it involve everyone coming out alive? Pity rises in me as I consider his situation. If he killed Takimura to protect himself so easily, will he do the same to Sayu? Even if she's his sister? There is a possibility. How strong is the possibility that he wouldn't? It almost makes me want to spill the truth about Kira, the vision implemented in my memory to the point of giving me nightmares. But even as it lays on the tip of my tongue, I stop myself. Making a move on this now, charging in like a bull, will do more than expose Kira. The entire investigation team will be in danger so long as the notebook is in his possession. That's not a chance I'm willing to take. I can't deduce how dangerous he's become without getting too close. The mere thought of it draws my lips to a tight close and with it, I wait impatiently with everyone else.

Faith rewards me with a video surveillance of both Sayu and Chief Yagami waking out of the facility.

'The suspect is headed for a helicopter,' the director reports, 'based on our intel that's his only method of transportation.'

'So, this means we can be absolutely certain that the Notebook has been exchanged.'

'Be careful,' comes the voice over the phone, 'we still don't know what they're planning to do at this point. N, I need you to maintain surveillance on the helicopter. Don't lose sight of it no matter what happens.'

'You seem to think that's quite an easy task. Nevertheless, we'll do what we can.'

Something else moves on ground.

'Zut!'

'I'm sorry, I'm afraid we've been tricked.'

A second set of doors slide open and a large missile readies steady, about to be launched. We won't be able to track that! Zut! Zut! Zut!

Before any of us can say more, the missile launches in the air, possibly taking the Notebook with it.

Zut!

Then, mother of all surprises: the helicopter combusts into a large spark of explosive light as the missile disappears from video footage and radar altogether.

'The helicopter!'

'I thought so,' Near breathes.

'In that case, the Notebook is on the missile,' says the phone.

'Damn!' the dark-haired man working with Martha grunts, 'we can't track it!'

'I've lost sight of the thing,' Martha complains.

Merde!

First day working with the SPK and we lose the game. The missile is nowhere to be found, the Notebook in the hands of a bunch of criminals who now have power to take over the world; I thought things were bad when the power was under Kira. At least he has a goal. If not for self-preservation, he doesn't go after innocents, never mind people who openly disagree with him without doing anything about it. These guys can target anyone for any reason and we might not be prepared for it. We sit in silence, contemplating what could have been done to prevent the exchange while getting Sayu back alive. I doubt I'm the only person who has come up short. On top of that, I can't imagine how they're feeling about this. Especially him. I can already see the hard line on his frustrated face. My eyes find Near, who sits silently, processing his thoughts through the dice building he sets up. Wherever the missile landed, the Notebook with it, criminals who planned this whole thing out carefully, will get their hands on the Notebook to do who knows what. The large stakes of this clear and I wait, just like everyone else, distracted by the white-haired boy in front of me.

It becomes harder to fight the tears aching to stream down my face. My partial vision alone shows me much of the similarity between L and this boy, as much as the differences. In the former excitement, I didn't miss how he commanded his men, how he talked when communicating with him, how he commented at every turning point the kidnappers made. His quiet and commanding nature mimics L closely but not completely. In fact, even if he looks or acts like him on the surface, I can see the difference in personality. L put his personal life on the line even before he met Kira. His relationship with the Task Force, with me, was something he allowed intimacy into. He took measures he didn't need to take in order to know we were all okay. Even if he argued with us, he took his time to make sure that we were all on board with him, saw his line of reason, and to some extent, his humanity. Near, on the other hand, has worked with the SPK for three years. Everyone here has seen his face, marvelled at his youth, adjusted to his eccentric personality, but I can tell, they don't really know him as a person. He doesn't want anyone to act or be short of professional around him. Still, something tells me that if some part of him interests in humanity and wants to branch out. This may be a conscious choice on his part to stick to himself, despite the in-person set up of colleagues he has.

Sensing my eyes on himself, Near allows me to see the person beneath the command. Through the simple act of placing a dice on the building, I gain access to his identity. The moment the dice hits against the tip of the building, that tip moves, shaking off its place. The foundation shatters and the set of dice fall off one short second after the other. Suddenly, my heart stops beating. My breath shortens as I see the soul of Director Mason, watching his son play basketball in college before it's sucked into the arms of Death.

The dice collapse.

A man joins hands with his wife in prayer as he clenches his heart in pain and releases himself into Death's arms.

The dice collapse.

A soldier, wounded by his deployments in war, finally succumbs to his suppressed trauma as he watches his comrade and best friend die at the hands of the enemy. Guilty, he places his pistol to his head and pulls the trigger, embracing Death as Death embraces him.

The dice collapse.

A father sees the last of his daughter as she's taken away by her boyfriend to prom, he no time to see her the next day, but he kisses his wife goodbye as he leaves for work. He succumbs to the pain of the heart and allows Death to give him peace.

The dice collapse.

A husband views his wife and children as they dine for breakfast on a kitchen island, kissing each of them before they leave for school and he leaves for his work. His wife smiles as she ses him off before he surrenders to Death.

The dice collapse.

A man, seeing his life one last time, its gifts and shared love, stumbles into the room with tears before he gives in with his body into Death's arms.

The dice fall flat.

My body thuds against the ground.

Someone comes to my side to help me breathe. I recognise the deep voice of Mr Rester as he calls my name and aids me to the seat by Near. My breathing slows, normalising as I recognise the vexation painted on the disguised stoic face of Near. If it was not clearer before, it's clear now, the opening to the truth behind Near's identity. His eyes are simply, and have ben, the e yes of a determined child. Just like L. Just like—him.

Near opens the speaker to contact 'L', his voice put together even if his face betrays it. 'L.'

'Yes?'

'He got us.'

'Got you?'

'Yes. The majority of the SPKs have just been killed by the Notebook.'

Pause.

'L,' Near continues, 'you were the one who handed over the Notebook without a fight. You and your people were totally helpless.'

Ouch.

'N,' he responds, 'are you saying if you were in command, you wouldn't have handed it over?'

'No. considering their preparations, it would have been impossible to avoid this. There's really no point in us quarrelling. I propose we work together and share the information we know so far. For starters, I should admit that I have a very good idea of who the culprit behind this might be.'

I don't like where this is going.

'I suspect,' Near says, 'the person behind the kidnapping and trade is someone who goes by the name Mello.'

'Mello? Who's he?'

'I don't have his photograph, and I don't know his real name. All I know about him is that four years ago, he was living at an orphanage in Winchester, England, known as Wammy's House. I believe Mello is playing a game with me. he wants to see which of us will be the first to take Kira down. The final challenge.'

'I see.'

'Oh, and one more thing.'

'Yes?'

'As a token of our partnership, I'm sending a valuable team member, one of two, to join yours. I'm sure she'll work diligently with you, and she's already established our trust. This should help start us out.'

'I see. When should I be expecting her?'

'You can pick her up at the local airport in Los Angeles tomorrow. Until then, L.'

'Of course.'

The call ends.

'Near,' Mr Rester asks, 'who are you sending—'

'I'm sure you're yet to unpack your things, Ms Sofer?'

'What?' Martha jumps from her seat. 'You're sending Frejda to L?'

'Is there a problem, Ms Abdul?'

'Yes. I'm inclined to point out that Frejda suffered serious traumatic stress upon returning to France, which took her three years to recover from. I object to this. Sending her now may reopen fresh wounds.'

'I understand your concern, but Ms Sofer is the only person capable of doing this job. It's because of her past relationship with the Japanese Police that I plan to send her to work with them. On that note, I think I saw a fine example of the stress you were referring to. Both of you, in fact, suffered the same illness and fainting spell as the agents of the SPK died.'

Martha quiets.

'I've reviewed both of your profiles before asking you to join me. keep in mind every person was hand-picked by me to join and the two of you are no exception. This case calls for your specific skill and background and I need the both of you on board. Besides, I've already discussed this with Ms Sofer and she's agreed to it.'

I can feel Martha's glare. 'Really?' she asks.

'Yes. Whatever problem you have wit this, you can work out with her later, but I need you both to focus now.'

A grunt from Martha signals she let this go. For now.

'Wammy's House,' I wonder aloud, 'Isn't that the place established by Mr Watari?'

'Yes.'

'You're leading them to you?'

'Yes.'

'To get to Mello?

'Yes.'

'I see.'

'Alright. Get ready everyone. I expect contact with him soon. Prepare all we need to locate Mello and if need be, we may have to travel to L.A. ourselves and look into recent mafia activity personally.'

I tune him out, unable to resist it in favour of realising that I fly to L.A. tomorrow. I'm not ready. I don't have to think twice to understand that. But that is exactly why I need to go. If I analyse it any further there is a chance that I may talk myself out of it. I need all the bravery I can muster so I can argue with Martha later. Meanwhile, I need to destroy everything that I've brought with me in relation to the Kira case or at least, leave it here. With Near and Mr Rester, I spend a good chunk of the day monitoring what they need and what they don't, and all I have speaks of L's last transaction before I left Japan. Surprisingly, a lot of the details I cover are new but there remains a large disappointment when I realise, I cannot give them the most valued information of all: the rules written in the Notebook. I destroyed those notes before leaving Japan, as a courtesy to agreeing to keep the secret of the Notebook. As I've no strict memory of the rules, I don't mention it to them. Martha, meanwhile, sets up work with the dark-haired man in the subject of technology, of which she's far more advanced in knowledge than I am. They seem to be getting on well, working together. Even they set up communicative systems, re-watch the videos and information we've gathered from today's events, I notice he hardly does his work without sneaking a glance at Martha. What I find surprising is his efficiency in spite of the distraction she may be. It helps his favour that Martha is just as efficient. Eventually, paramedics arrive to assist with the dead bodies surrounding the room. I don't have to look at their faces to see the anxiousness they feel. The air tenses with angst and mourning, especially when we realise one of the paramedics has relations to one of the officers working here. Standing by as the paramedics pull the bodies away, a strong pressure warms over my heart, nearly clouding my vision. It remains unaccompanied by visions or images to help explain it but the message plays loudly over any emotion I feel in receiving the intuition. This will not be the only death I'll witness this time. Whatever's coming will be worse than what I grieved over all those years.

Surprisingly, Martha doesn't complain when she returns to the hotel to help me pack up to leave. Everything sets up for me to leave tomorrow. I'm packed and ready to go. Near summons me to the SPK headquarters the next day, for one last meeting of how things will work from now on. 'This is a transfer, so you will be working for them and from them, however the relationship goes. If L is as smart as he is, he'll suspect a leak if you share information so report Abdul only when you know it's safe and absolutely necessary. Is that understood?'

'Understood.'

A pause.

'Ms Sofer,' his voice changes, hesitation present.

'Yes?'

'You were with L, when he died.'

Where's he going with this?

'Was it like this? Like what happened just now?'

Inhaling, I decide to give him the simple truth: 'Worse.'

I doubt I need to explain why it was worse. Death is the same no matter who goes and who is left behind to watch. What happened yesterday, it was chaos, filled with fear, panic and more so, a sense of helplessness. It was bad because it was gut-wrenching to watch all these men succumb to Death, before they were ready. They tried to cling to life, fighting uselessly against the curse of the Notebook, a simple set of words sealing their fate for them. All this was no different with L except for one thing. Like yesterday, I remember the fear, chaos and panic it caused among the Task Force, especially as we felt the Notebook would target us next. But all that came into realisation after L died. Watching him die was the angst that I struggle with even today, because the main difference between the SPK members and L, was that L had accepted his death long before it came to be. The man in his arms watched patiently as the confirmation to L's suspicions truthfully and arrogantly show himself. Knowing, affirming it, was the last peace he had before he fell into Death's embrace. That was what made it worse.

He dismisses me in an instant.

My heartbeat pulses in variant speeds during the flight to L.A. I don't bother to calm it down. By the time I land, someone will be picking me up from the airport and from what I understand, I will be staying with that Person until further notice. I don't bother speculating who it is. During the flight, I hardly eat, drink or sleep, and by the time I land, which is sometime past 20:00 PT, I'm barely tired. The warm breeze that is L.A. doesn't feel accepting and each step in the airport nauseates me with nervous anticipation. Keeping my breathing steady becomes a challenge, so much so that I must pray on my way to the exit to be picked up. I look around for any sign of a police officer that doesn't look local or who at least seems to be looking for someone. I failed to ask Near if they sent them a picture of me or something to identify me by. Then again, I doubt they'd do that. So, I'm left to a clueless search. I scan the place, finally landing on someone distinctly separate from the crowd who also appears to be on the lookout. A tall man in a sky-blue suit, wearing shorter hair than I last remember. In fact, I don't think I would have recognised him, if not for the same large innocent eyes I tried my best to protect, whose stance has hardly changed from the naïve personality that nearly had him killed at one point. I whisper a prayer of thanks as I approach him, realising my breathing eased upon recognition. I wonder how I would have made it if it were anyone else, if it were him instead. I shake away the thought.

Upon close distance, he finally tuns to look at me. his eyes widen with surprise and recognition, as well as joy. 'Frejda?'

'Hey, Mr Matsuda.'