A Dark Fantasy Spy

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The cold wind wrapped the ruins as the Milky Way crossed the desert under the night sky.

Colonel Hassan’s elite unit arrived at the scene alongside the police.

“Bring in heavy machinery and lift the debris!”

“There’s a risk of further collapse. Secure the area!”

“Hey! Block the civilians from coming in! You there, sir! Don’t come this way!”

In the aftermath of the battle, only ruins remained.

Amid the sobs searching for the missing and shouts restraining entry, I rushed out of the local hospital in an ambulance.

“……”

The intense assault from the previous night had finally come to an end. The cleanup would fall to the warlord holding the city and the corrupt authorities.

I witnessed many things in the chaos. Some I shouldn’t have seen and others I wish I hadn’t.

I looked up at the sky.

The chilly breeze guided the souls to the afterlife. Bright clusters of stars traversed the night sky of the desert.

The blue flames still remained, brightly illuminating the darkness.

As if to comfort the resting souls.

Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

Once the warlord took action, the situation quickly settled down.

The firefighting team from the warlord worked with the local fire department to rescue residents trapped under the debris. The hospital director, alerted by the sheikh, opened all patient rooms to receive the injured, and the warlord began relief operations by opening his storeroom.

I dragged my weary body away from the scene. Nasir, upon receiving the report, stepped out of a meeting to offer comforting words.

Our conversation was brief due to the presence of patients. He offered me a strengthened accommodation, and unlike last time, I accepted the offer.

“……”

Not a word was exchanged between me and Camila until I lay down in our quarters. Although it hadn’t been a long time since we were apart, I was overcome with the urge to speak.

There were many questions I wanted to ask, but I stayed silent. This was not the right situation for conversation. We each retreated to our rooms and fell asleep.

The next morning, I was able to gather information from Nasir.

“It was Sanya’s doing.”

“……”

“They placed a bounty on foreign journalists.”

As expected, this assault was indeed orchestrated by Sanya. More specifically, it was the bounty placed by Sanya that prompted the assassins to act.

“Since yesterday, many foreign journalists have suffered similar attacks as you.”

“Are there fatalities?”

“No.”

The foreign journalists who came to cover the civil war were all under the protection of the warlord. Rather, it was more like they were closely monitored to prevent them from cooperating with the government forces.

However, due to the prompt intervention of the warlord’s military forces, the assassinations had failed, meaning that surveillance and protection had already served their purpose.

However, being an intelligence agent disguised as a journalist, I did not receive protection from Hassan. To elaborate, Nasir had set up surveillance specifically for me.

However, given that our guest had been attacked by a mysterious thug, Nasir could not wholly escape responsibility.

He appeared before me with an expression of deep regret.

“It doesn’t seem to involve any foreign intelligence agencies or the counterintelligence agency in this country. The agents in the capital are completely unaware of the situation.”

Nasir detailed the extensive assault incident during his visit to our quarters.

Hassan’s intelligence network stretched even to the capital, governed by the government forces, which was largely thanks to both Nasir and Nayan.

A friend he made at university had high-ranking positions in the military police and counterintelligence agency. This was a classic picture of a corrupt civil service that ran on connections and bribery.

Nonetheless, it’s fortunate. At least we weren’t caught by the Empire’s intelligence agency.

“Regardless of the circumstances, Hassan does not intend to let this incident slide. Just as you are, the journalists are also my guests. Would it be acceptable for the host to remain idle while the guest is harmed?”

I nodded silently while lighting a cigarette.

“Sanya placing a bounty is a good sign. It means they have a lot to hide. It appears to be a measure to conceal secrets that must never reach the outside world.”

“I believe so too. Sanya is currently collaborating with the Empire’s intelligence agency.”

“It’s possible civilian massacres occurred amidst the combat. Please investigate any related rumors.”

Nasir readily agreed to this.

Drawing deep on the smoke from the hookah, I exhaled, processing the subsequent explanation in my mind.

The warlord leader began explaining the background that led to discovering this incident. While he had a contact embedded within Sanya’s ranks, the largest gain stemmed from the assassin.

“I believe it was named Salim. Your attacker, the shaman’s associate. We interrogated him.”

Interrogation simply meant torture in this context. The quickest way to extract information is through torture. It’s a method widely favored by intelligence agencies.

The knowledge gained by torturing the shaman was extensive. The means through which the bounty was placed on the foreign journalists, how targets were selected, and the route for claiming rewards from Sanya upon completion of the contract.

The one who set me as the target had a grudge against me, and that was Fatima, but the one who went to seek out the reward after hearing the news was the shaman himself.

I went to confront that Salim shaman and extracted all the information he knew.

“Ugh…! Ugh…!”

The stream of water cascaded down over his cloth-covered face.

The technique favored by intelligence agencies known as waterboarding was employed. My American friends called it an “enhanced interrogation technique.”

I wiped the damp cloth from his face with my fingers and spoke.

“Refreshing, isn’t it? I heard that the water tower was blown away by shelling, making it hard to find water these days. How about it? Want some more?”

“…No, please….”

“More? One more time?”

“Stop! No more!”

After sputtering out a mouthful of water, the shaman revealed all he knew. The contact person who relayed information to Sanya’s client, the meeting spots, the time of rendezvous, and even the code words.

With the information obtained, the warlord dispatched an elite unit to capture the contact. After several visits to a few safe houses, I’d gathered substantial information in less than half a day.

Though the methods were radical and cruel, Nasir questioned nothing. After all, he was someone in desperate need of information.

“Here is the newly obtained information.”

“Thank you. Is there anything you need?”

“I’d appreciate your continued cooperation moving forward.”

I secured a promise from Nasir.

“I swear on my tribe and my honor.”

A pledge to maintain relationships with the Military Intelligence Agency even after the conflicts between Ascen and Sanya conclude.

Hassan too could procure weapons, resources, and information that would be hard to find without the aid of intelligence agencies, and the Military Intelligence Agency would also be able to execute dirty operations while ensuring local stability, making it a mutually beneficial arrangement.

“……”

As I stood at the door to my quarters, I had been using aftercare and work as an excuse to delay this moment, but now I had to face it.

With a tense expression, I reached out and gently knocked on the door. Knock, knock.

“Camila.”

“……”

“I’m coming in.”

*

Though the time apart from Camila wasn’t particularly long, I knew nothing about her situation.

How had she made it from the capital to here? And why hadn’t she returned to the Empire but sought me out instead?

There was no need to ponder deeply. I was the one who taught her. I had shown her how to avoid inspections and how to find transportation through dangerous areas. She must have moved as I had taught her.

Thus, I didn’t bother to ask. Instead, I posed a different question.

I was more concerned about something else,

“Are you alright?”

A weak reply came from beyond the door.

“…I’m fine.”

Perhaps it was because she was alone in the bathroom, but her voice, despite its softness, carried a hint of sobbing.

From that small, weak voice, I realized that Camila was crying.

“That doesn’t sound fine at all.”

“I killed someone.”

“……”

Her response made my head lower. I leaned against the wall near the bathroom door, quietly lowering my head.

I knew exactly how Camila felt. I didn’t say a word, I simply understood and empathized.

—Shwaaa….

The sound of water began to echo from beyond the door. The noise of water hitting the tiles and sink.

Perhaps she had turned the tap on full blast, as the sound of the rushing water continued, and soon it was mixed with the sound of retching.

It was the sound of her throwing up.

“……”

Though the retching had started, no food came up. That was to be expected, as Camila hadn’t eaten anything today.

Huddled in that bathroom, she repeatedly retched without a break. Since Nasir had arrived early that morning, she had been doing so for almost an entire day.

A faint sigh escaped my lips. The sounds of tearing tissue paper and the rustling of her cleaning herself drifted through the door.

A short while later.

Once she had managed to regain some stability, Camila finally opened her mouth.

“I’ve seen people die many times. But it’s my first time experiencing killing someone.”

Her voice was earnest.

Leaning against the wall, Camila began to continue her story. It was a heartfelt confession.

“I don’t like it.”

“……”

“From the very beginning.”

Camila bared her soul from across the door.

“I don’t like aiming a gun at someone, or ending a life with magic. I’ve felt that way since I arrived here.”

“……”

“I’m helping a warlord.”

I already knew that, of course, but Camila had been a volunteer for an international relief organization.

She had traveled through conflict zones in the Middle East like Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan, following in the footsteps of her doctor sister. She had also been to civil war-ridden areas in South Sudan and Congo.

And in my consideration of Camila’s travels, those conflict zones were places that drove people to insanity.

Government forces clashing with warlords, rampant terrorist groups. Countless civilian massacres, and thievery and looting ran rampant.

That was where Camila had found herself.

What exactly she had seen and felt, I didn’t know. However, I did know that she was fully realizing the barbarity of the warlord group. I also knew she had no positive feelings toward them.

That’s why, over the last two weeks, living under the protection of the warlord, Camila occasionally expressed her discontent, though she never revealed it outwardly.

It must not have been easy for someone like her to accept this operation.

“……”

Leaning against the wall, I sank into my thoughts. Camila spoke through the door.

“Are you used to it?”

“Used to what?”

“Just… everything we’re going through right now….”

“……”

After a brief pause, I answered honestly.

“I’m used to it.”

“…How come?”

“Because it’s not the first time.”

Killing someone, supporting a warlord. It wasn’t my first time.

The time spent in intelligence had gifted me with many experiences. Some of which I desired and some that I did not.

“……”

As I conveyed those thoughts, Camila posed another question.

“How?”

Her question carried several meanings.

How could I be so friendly with the warlord?
How could I so effortlessly take someone’s life?
How could I commit murder and remain indifferent?
And,
How could I make such decisions?

I fell into brief silence before finally speaking.

The answer came to me rather readily. Perhaps it was a response that emerged from living without much thought, or maybe it was the result of having pondered for too long.

The answer I offered was something of a deflated sort.

“Because it was an order.”

“…You obeyed the orders because you’re a soldier?”

“Isn’t that what soldiers do?”

I leaned my head back against the wall and added.

“I know it’s bad to follow immoral and inhumane orders without questioning them. I understand it’s a very irresponsible and cowardly excuse. Evil often wears an ordinary face, after all.”

A cowardly excuse. And the ordinariness of evil. Those were terms described in movies about special agents and books about Eichmann, who assisted the Nazis in the extermination of Jews.

Though the quotes from the movie and the text varied, the commander of the special operations unit and Eichmann both faced a similar end.

Death.

The commander who coughed up cowardly excuses shot himself, while Eichmann was sentenced to death in a Jerusalem court—both meeting their fates in the gallows.

Both men followed orders from their respective positions and similarly faced their ends in different locations.

“……”

Perhaps for Camila, my response wouldn’t be any different.

Claiming that assisting a warlord in inciting civil war and killing people was merely due to “orders” was nothing more than a cowardly excuse.

Still, since I was at it, I decided to add a bit of explanation.

“There used to be a plaque at my previous workplace.”

An intelligence agency of South Korea, set up somewhere in Gyeonggi Province. People called it the Information Command.

There, an old plaque hung. It bore words presented by a president who seized power through a coup and ended a dictatorship by assassinating the Director of the Intelligence Agency.

I reminisced about the phrase I had seen long ago on that plaque.

“Loyalty pierces through stone.”

Loyalty piercing through stone.

While the agency had undergone name changes many times, the motto of the Information Command remained the same.

Camila, standing behind the door, was silently listening. I exhaled lightly, continuing my explanation.

“An uncle of mine worked as an investigator in the intelligence agency. The Chief of National Intelligence, responsible for catching spies.”

“……”

“Now they’ve changed both their name and their motto a few times, but the very first motto they ever used is this.”

“We work in the shadows and aspire for the light.”

Though there were many mottos representing the National Intelligence Service and Counter-Intelligence Command, the motto I clearly remembered was different.

Silent dedication, solely for the preservation and glory of South Korea.

I said.

“Honestly, they always joked about how the spelling was off and such, but I actually found it quite compelling. It wasn’t the company I worked at, but they had a pretty awesome line, didn’t they?”

I chuckled slightly and added.

“Preservation and glory. Cringy as it might be, it’s the truth.”

Though it was a different company, the situation was similar.

The nation commanded, and I followed.

With loyalty piercing through stone.

For the sake of preservation and glory.

“The tasks assigned by the intelligence agency. Honestly, we also feel it sucks. Who would want to kill people? How many could have been born with the thought, ‘Ah, I want to grow up to kill people.’?”

“……”

“I dare say, nobody wanted to hear that it was for national interest. It probably aggravated the authorities commanding it as well. There had to be better uses for the budget spent on this than feeding the starving people, after all.”

But what to do? If told to do something, one has to do it.

The intelligence agency was a workplace, and employees were still humans. If I didn’t want to end up on the streets wondering how to make a living, I had to endure.

I knew it was a cowardly excuse.

But it had to be understood.

If there are those who eat meat, there must also be those who kill livestock.

“Did you ask if I’m used to it?”

At last, I began to answer her question honestly.

“To ask if I’m used to it, yes. To ask if I feel indifferent about it, no.”

“……”

Silence enveloped the space.

We exchanged silence across the door. No words passed between us, but within that silence, we were able to understand one another.

“Someone has to do it, don’t you think?”

This is my answer. Whether or not it was the answer Camila wished to hear, I couldn’t say.

The flow was accompanied by the sound of rushing water.

After a long period of silence, Camila finally spoke.

“Honestly, I wanted to run away from this. Helping a warlord. No matter how I thought about it, it didn’t seem right.”

“But you stayed.”

A creak, the sound of the tap turning off.

“Because you’re here.”

“……”

“I thought changes were possible. By joining the intelligence agency. Even if I couldn’t become someone outstanding, I believed I could do better than before when I could do nothing.”

A laugh escaped me.

“But when I came to my senses, I realized I had already changed.”

I leaned back against the wall again, pondering. Finally, I parted from it and walked over to the table.

Eventually.

When the sound of water had finally ceased, Camila, who had been huddled in the bathroom, finally opened the door and stepped out.

Her face was gaunt, but her eyes still held a spark.

As I gazed at her, I began to speak.

“You said you wanted to be an intelligence agent.”

Camila responded with a resolute voice, free of hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Even now?”

She nodded.

I sat on the edge of the table, looking at Camila, and asked.

“After seeing it like this?”

There was no answer.

But she had already answered. Looking into her earnest eyes, anyone could see what she felt.

I reached out and pulled out the chair in front of me. Then I spoke to her.

“You mentioned wanting to be an intelligence agent.”

“……”

“Let’s talk about your future.”