Chapter Text
An assassin has been caught and is being held in custody in the SSS headquarters in East Berlint. It’s the kind of news that has made waves within their ranks, but will never be reported to the public. Though their having apprehended the criminal is a triumph, the ability of an individual to have operated in the dark for any length of time at all would send a bad message to the Ostanian public.
She hasn’t been forthcoming about the details of her employer. It’s evidence of her absolute loyalty to their cause, whatever their cause may be. The SSS, however, has extensive experiences with these cases. They will break her, or make her wish they did. It is only a matter of time. Special Agent Wells and Special Agent Cartwright have been assigned to her case - one an infamous interrogator, the other an excellent sweet talker. This shows that the SSS is committed to mining her for information.
First Lieutenant Yuri Briar hasn’t been assigned to it in any capacity. He is in the town of Dunkitt investigating an illegal mining operation, and may not hear about the case until it has concluded in one way or another. Regardless, he hardly ever shows up at the satellite office where the Private is assigned. He had no reason to be, but the Private had been wary of his appearing at some point in the past two weeks he’d been there. He was only sure that he really wouldn’t come when he noticed that no one that important ever visited the office, besides the odd general or two.
The relief of knowing this has been immense as he’s carried out his tasks. He had been put in an administrative position, which has also been greatly beneficial to him. Being a fringe, isolated post on the edge of the city, it’s not as though many truly important documents ever reached them. He’s still been able to see enough - some reports pertaining to the capture of a western accountant who had been caught trading government secrets from his post in the embassy.
The Private has memorised each piece of intel, created copies and dispersed them to his real agency. The objective has already been accomplished. There is no link tying the man to them. He will still remain in this identity for a while longer to prevent any suspicions about his upcoming disappearance. It is… tedious remaining here when his mission has been finished. Part of him wonders if it’s an intentional choice to leave him there for longer than necessary due to his past faults.
He is on leave at his ‘primary’ job, but the office is at least an hour and a half away from his apartment. He seldom gets home early enough to cook dinner or check homework, and often arrives late enough that at least one of the apartment’s occupants will be sleeping. The only other advantage has been following the case of this captured assassin.
It’s not her. He knows it’s not, but he scans the memorandum over and over for any mentions of ‘Garden’ or a ‘Shopkeeper’.
Anything else he knows comes from the idle gossip of his coworkers. With so little to do on a daily basis, it’s the only meaningful occupation of their time. He stays out of their conversations for the most part, only adding the odd comment or joke. The Private is meant to be a reserved young man, still finding his feet in an office he’s new to. As such, he’s been allowed to observe freely. The Captain leans back on a teetering old chair, his feet propped up onto his desk while he converses with the station’s lieutenant. It’s just the three of them in the office. It’s warm and stuffy from the humid weather, but no one has been sent to fix the broken A/C unit. It’s a slow day.
“From what I heard, she’s a real stunner,” the lieutenant says. He doesn’t need to mention who he is talking about. The new memo arrived about an hour ago.
It’s not her. The Private is absolutely positive it’s not her.
“Well they have to be in that line of work. It’s not much different from… you know,” the Captain says with a grin. It’s not her, but regardless the insinuation in the Captain's tone grates on him. “You can bet your ass they’re gonna take it easy on her at HQ.”
“What, just because she’s pretty? Have you seen some of the Western moles they’ve taken in?” the Lieutenant retorts. “In fact, they usually have it worse.”
“That’s just the thing, Lieutenant. Those were Western rats. These assassins are misguided, but they’re usually loyal to Ostania,” the Captain explains. “If she’s as good as they say she is, they’re not going to waste her talent if it can be diverted to a greater cause.”
“I don’t know. You know how crazy those types can be,” the Lieutenant says. He swivels in his chair to look at the Private over his shoulder. “What do you think, private? Would HQ have any use for a rogue element?”
The Private has otherwise been silent, diligently typing a copy of a transcript. He remains silent and adjusts his glasses. “I didn't know the SSS goes easy on any traitor. I thought we were supposed to be the strongest arm of the law.”
“There’s a difference between moles - the West-loving scum - and local criminals,” the Captain says. “Especially useful local criminals. They’re a resource like any other.”
“I suppose you’re right,” the Private ruminates. Only more so if said ‘useful criminal’ has a close contact within the SSS, perhaps even a relative. Such a person, despite their own anxieties about blending in with Ostanian society and avoiding discovery, may stand a chance at a normal life (albeit under the SSS’s thumb). Such a person may not, however, receive such grace if they were knowingly associated with the enemy. It's something else to consider in his increasingly volatile main operation.
Perhaps not considering this before is yet another piece of evidence for his complacency. There has been some relief in knowing the dually precarious nature of the situation they're in alongside a sense of trust built through familiarity. But what is trust or rapport in the face of such an offer of safety? Hasn't that always been what she's wanted, for her and her family? A family that now includes Anya?
The leverage he thought was mutual is actually teetering heavily out of his favour. He has been slacking. That much has been obvious already but this new angle has given him the need to re-evaluate everything. Until he can recover the integrity of the mission, he will need to adjust his conduct and wait for the opportunity to set things properly on course.
(A small voice speaks to him from a part of himself he tries to keep buried. Yor trusts you. She made that very clear. Shouldn’t you do the same? He stifles it quickly. His professionalism has taken the back seat for far too long already.)