A Dark Fantasy Spy

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The sound of the radio echoed softly.

[Expect a cold front from the North to bring rain, snow, and strong winds. A severe cold wave is expected in the northern mountainous regions and central areas….]

With December just around the corner, the sky over Abas remains gloomy today.

As I approached my destination under the overcast sky, I noticed barricades layered multiple times to prevent VBIED (Vehicle Bomb Terrorism).

I rolled down all the windows, including the driver’s seat, and slowly reduced my speed.

“Please state your affiliation, name, and purpose of visit.”

“I’m Colonel Frederick Nostrim.”

Handing over my identification, the official pressed a button on the radio to report. After exchanging a couple of numbers, he nodded and returned my ID.

“Confirmed. You may enter.”

The soldiers carrying rifles moved the barricade aside, and I drove my vehicle through the checkpoint without any further obstruction.

As I drove up the road past heavily armed soldiers, the Ministry of Defense building appeared at the end of a long hill.

Episode 9 – Old-Fashioned

The Disciplinary Committee was held in the Ministry of Defense building. By regulations, such committees should ideally be held within the unit, but as I was the Defense Attaché and a colleague of Camila, the department decided unusually to convene the committee at the Ministry.

I first passed through a security checkpoint that scanned for metal and magical waves. Due to the heightened security following recent terrorist events, this took a little longer than expected, but there were no significant issues.

Having left my luggage in the first-floor lobby, I followed the guide through a less conspicuous corridor. Naturally, I didn’t bring my issued pistol with me.

A little while later, I finally arrived in the meeting room for the Disciplinary Committee.

“……”

The Disciplinary Committee was being held in a conference room located in the Ministry of Defense. A wide, curved desk was populated with people who appeared to be committee members, and in the focal point of their gazes, a small desk was placed awkwardly. Instinctively, I sensed that was where I was meant to sit.

I walked forward, unbuttoned my suit jacket, and took my seat. Not a single committee member glanced my way as I made my way to the desk.

The scene reminded me of a job interview. Especially since most of the members wore suits instead of uniforms.

I had received a tip from Clevenz about this being a makeshift Disciplinary Committee, but I felt intimidated by the extremely frosty demeanor of the members.

“……”

Seated, I rolled my eyes around the room, and only then did the scenery of the conference room come into view. The lights mounted on the ceiling were turned off, and the yellow lights placed on each desk illuminated the documents. The eerie placement of the lighting made the committee members’ faces barely visible, while the illumination above my desk was as bright as a street lamp gathering insects.

Standing before over ten members of the Disciplinary Committee, I let out a quiet sigh within. Seeing so many members indicated this wouldn’t be easy.

As I subtly turned my head, familiar faces came into view. In one corner of the conference room, without a desk, sat Clevenz, Leoni, and someone who resembled Thanos from a few days ago when Camila had mentioned him. Seeing him accompany Camila the moment she arrived made me suspect he might be related to the Abas Intelligence Agency. Given that he was attending this Disciplinary Committee, it seemed my suspicion was confirmed.

Though I wanted to greet Clevenz, the atmosphere felt wrong, so I decided to remain quiet.

A suit-clad man who seemed to be a committee member finally spoke.

“Colonel Frederick Nostrim. Is that your correct name?”

“Yes.”

“Currently, your rank is Major, and have you recently worked in the Defense Attaché Office of the Abas Representative Office?”

“That’s correct.”

After I spoke, the member closed his mouth. I thought the Disciplinary Committee would officially commence, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

A terrible silence ensued. Not even the sound of breathing could be heard in the conference room, with only occasional rustles of papers or the scratching of pens noted.

I wanted to check how much time had passed with my two eyes, but regrettably, there was no clock in sight.

While I was lost in thought, the members began to whisper quietly to each other and started busying themselves with the documents.

Seeing this, I quietly closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, then opened my eyelids.

The Disciplinary Committee was about to commence.

*

Today’s Disciplinary Committee was not officially convened. Rather than a committee aimed at exposing me, it seemed like preliminary work by the Military Intelligence Agency to create an identity useful for future scenarios.

Of course, despite calling it ‘makeshift’, a Disciplinary Committee was still a Disciplinary Committee. If they held such a committee without any intent to punish and that got exposed, the future me might have found himself in serious trouble despite disguising as someone in intelligence. Hence, it had to be conducted in the usual manner.

Seated at the long, wide table were the committee members, while I sat alone at a stiff metal table in the corner of the meeting room.

The members started with a few simple questions for identity verification. Confirming my name as Frederick Nostrim, whether the employment history was accurate, and verifying if my residence was indeed the official residence, etc. After navigating through those cliché questions, the Disciplinary Committee finally got underway.

Countless questions followed, showcasing a variety.

“Major Nostrim, is it true you charged excessive expenses during a meal with an information agent while working at the Magic Tower?”

“I believe the Inspection Office raised concerns about an inappropriate relationship with a foreigner, did you sufficiently clarify that?”

“Your immediate family and siblings reside in a townhouse in the capital, why are you staying in the official residence?”

Kinda naive questions that were somewhat expected.

“Why did you access the Royal Intelligence Department’s confidential documents without the approval of the head of the responsible agency or the document custodian?”

“Why did you go to the department store where the terrorist incident occurred that day?”

“I understand you engaged in combat with the terrorists immediately after the turmoil began. Do you believe that you should have used your issued pistol independently without the approval of higher-ups given that the situation was still unclear?”

Some surprising questions as well. The types of questions varied, and the members took turns firing them at me.

Why did I happen to be at the scene of the terrorist attack that day, did I have to use my issued pistol, why couldn’t I report beforehand, and why was I moving alone without a bodyguard, etc.

Some were understandable, while others were infuriatingly incomprehensible, but the atmosphere was as tense as could be.

Even though it felt like a formal Disciplinary Committee, that didn’t mean I could misspeak and be brushed off like a seasoned colonel saying “Well, let’s just drink some tea”. Therefore, I had to respond properly.

“My access to the confidential documentation of the Royal Intelligence Department was entirely my fault. I am deeply reflecting on it.”

“My relationship with the foreigner, namely Saint Lucia, is nonexistent. I have not violated any regulations. I was caught off guard by the absurdity of those claims and could not adequately clarify, but clearly, it is a misunderstanding.”

However, the members did not relent. Even though I attempted a defense, it seemed it didn’t satisfy them, and they clung to me even more.

“The reason I visited the department store that day was not of my own volition. I only went as per the demands of my companions.”

“Are you stating that you had no foreknowledge a terrorist incident would occur?”

“Yes. I have never been in charge of security tasks or counter-terrorism operations. Predicting terrorism is the responsibility of other departments…”

“Can it be interpreted that your statement implies the responsibility for endangering key individuals rests with the government due to your inability to predict the terrorist act?”

“……”

Whenever one committee member spoke, another prepared a question, and when I answered, a member on the opposite side would seek to find a flaw in my response.

The majority of the questions revolved around the act of terrorism, seemingly because of the close involvement of myself and my companions with the recent terror incident. It certainly seemed like a critical juncture.

“My decision to engage in combat with the terrorists that day was a judgment made for the safety of the individuals under my protection under circumstances that did not allow time to obtain higher-ups’ approval.”

“Records indicated that you withdrew your issued pistol that day. Your fingerprints were also found on the pistol discovered at the scene. Was the pistol you withdrew yours?”

“Yes. It is my issued pistol.”

“What was your purpose in carrying the pistol?”

“For protective purposes. To respond to threats on-site in the event of an emergency….”

“But didn’t you just state that you have never been in charge of security tasks? On what basis did you take on the protective duty alone without police or specialized department support, and yet withdraw a pistol?”

“……”

The questions that seemed to entwine were hardly mere questions but felt more like an interrogation. The members of the Disciplinary Committee pounced upon any minor slip-up of mine.

At this point, it became difficult to tell if this was a Disciplinary Committee or an internal audit of the Inspection Office. Even national audits don’t get this intense.

“I believe you don’t remember the circumstances during the terrorist event. Do any details come to mind now?”

I did my best to answer the members’ questions sincerely. During this process, a thought came to me.

This doesn’t seem like a Disciplinary Committee at all.

“……”

Suddenly, some oddities crossed my mind.

Firstly, there were too many members.

A standard Disciplinary Committee should be comprised of one chairperson and about 4 to 5 members. Regulations stipulate that the committee must consist of at least 5 and at most 10 members, but more than ten were present here. Moreover, there were several individuals, including Clevenz, Leoni, and the individual who resembled Thanos, who bore no relevance to the Disciplinary Committee.

Maybe in a typical Disciplinary Committee that’s acceptable, but this was technically a formal one.

In other words, aside from the question of member numbers, there was no conceivable reason for these three irrelevant individuals to be present.

Above all, the nature of the questions from the members was peculiarly misaligned.

Generally, questions in a Disciplinary Committee focus on the ‘reasons for the discipline’ and are related to it. The Committee is intended to ‘deliberate’ someone’s punishment, after all.

Yet, the members consistently directed questions about the terrorist incident at me. Though somewhat formal, the questions had nothing to do with the goals of the Committee, and queries about the reasons for discipline raised by the Inspection Office were only briefly brought up before they vanished. Proceeding further, it is known that individuals tend to remember more vividly the beginnings and conclusions of conversations as time fades; it obviously seemed odd. That’s how I was trained in verbal communication, and I taught Camila the same when I instructed her.

Essential information should be asked in the middle of a conversation.

The beginning and conclusion should be filled with irrelevant material.

As time goes on and memories fade, the other party could misconstrue the exchange.

So, if the Inspection Office highlights my reasons for discipline, it indicates their inferior importance. For the members, it may imply they valued my answers about the terrorist incident over the discipline itself. After all, they had focused on that aspect significantly.

Adding to that, the members who sat silently in the central row, merely gazing at me without asking questions, and those members who pressed me not for answers but busily flipped through documents, were all peculiarities.

After much deliberation, I finally posed a question to the members.

“I assume you’re not here on a Disciplinary Committee?”

“……”

“Something related to a code of conduct reform.”

The members remained silent. They merely stopped what they were doing and shifted their attention toward me.

A member, who had been holding a pair of glasses while propping his chin and scribbling something on the paper, ceased his writing, while another member who had been smoking glanced my way, only to lower his gaze and stub out his cigarette in the ashtray.

As their gazes converged, one member seated in the center spoke up.

“We are not from the Disciplinary Committee.”

“The Royal Intelligence Department is who we are.”

*

“We are from the Royal Intelligence Department.”

A member finally answered my inquiries. He was the individual who had been central and silently perusing documents throughout the meeting, presumably the chair of the committee.

Pointing them out with a wave of his hand, he continued.

“From left to right: Royal Intelligence Department, Ministry of Defense, Cabinet Security Office, Special Investigation Bureau, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Prime Minister’s Residence….”

Ministry of Defense, Military Intelligence Agency, Prime Minister’s Residence, Cabinet Security Office, Ministry of Interior, Police, Ministry of Justice, Special Investigation Bureau, Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

The member from the Royal Intelligence Department introduced his colleagues. While they revealed their affiliations, they neglected to mention their names. Maybe the names were insignificant, or perhaps they thought I didn’t need to know that much.

Probably both.

“We deal with macro and international issues. The first agenda we have is addressing the recent terrorist attack.”

The member said. He was from the Ministry of the Interior, and a central figure in the room as well.

“How much do you know about this terrorist act?”

“Not much, I’m afraid.”

A member from the Ministry of Justice chimed in.

“We don’t know much either. Due to lack of data, we are hindered in determining who, for what purpose, and how the act of terror was committed.”

“……”

“Fortunately, the military and police personnel who secured the scene managed to obtain critical evidence relating to this incident. Before losing consciousness, it was the recording device and notes you handed over to the dignitaries. Thanks to that, we have successfully gathered several pieces of evidence, including the motives and identities of the terrorists.”

“……”

“It seems, however, that you have no recollection of this.”

The member then informed me about the terrorism.

Several months ago, a mage conducting reconnaissance between the Empire’s airspace and No Man’s Land was shot down by an anti-aircraft battery and crashed into No Man’s Land.

The Abas Ministry of Defense dispatched a rescue team to save the mage and recover equipment, while concurrently, they encountered an imperial army search team that was also attempting to secure the mage and equipment nearby. Combat then ensued.

The search team from the imperial army, overwhelmed by the firepower of the Abas rescue team, requested artillery support, and the artillery from an adjacent division fired shells into No Man’s Land upon receiving the search team’s radio call.

At this moment, I sensed a connection.

The mage who flew perilously enough to be shot down, the imperial army’s search team that entered No Man’s Land months ago… all that dates back to the report I made regarding the issues of the Magic Tower’s independence.

“The rescue team was unharmed, but the mage died on the scene due to shrapnel from the shell. Although the equipment and body were safely recovered, the shells hit a nearby village, which was detected by our intelligence agency’s reconnaissance assets. We suspect that the terrorists originated from that village.”

“……”

The member from the Royal Intelligence Department spoke up.

“I read through your personnel record. Six years in the Military Intelligence Agency. After completing information training and undergoing an internship, you were active abroad for three years. Your enlistment and intelligence training results were stellar, and you scored high in the foreign language proficiency tests.”

“……”

“In six years, you’ve never caused an incident. No records of alcohol abuse, gambling, or crimes. Your relationships and friendships are squeaky clean, and you’ve been dutifully evaluated within your department. Furthermore, you’ve participated in significant intelligence operations over the past six months and achieved results.”

“……”

“Considering your capabilities, don’t you think it’s a pity to confine you to a mere advisor or attaché in an embassy?”

I asked the members.

“What do you want?”

A fastidious-looking member scrutinized me. As he peered at me through his thin glasses, he placed the documents he was holding down.

“We are not here to punish you. We come for a more constructive and future-oriented conversation.”

“……”

“For example, about the positions you will be taking on as an information officer moving forward.”

The fastidious member captured the room’s attention with a low voice. In the silent meeting room that held not a single breath, a few of his words seized every pair of ears present.

“Information Officer.”

“……”

“How much do you know about quasi-military operations?”