Agent M: Testament (The Agent M Series Book 2) (37 page)

His words came out slow. It was hard to sound professional in Korean after Davis had agitated his frame of mind but by the looks of the gang member’s face, the point was well taken.

“Where is Ryoo Myung-Dae?”

“I don’t know!” He pleaded.

It was useless to struggle against the FBI agent’s clasp. Not that he would actually believe it if told but some people needed to learn through more drastic means than others. Michael squeezed even tighter, hoping to impress the severity of the situation onto this goon as the flow of blood would soon cease to than tiny brain of his.

“Start talking,” Michael ordered. His words brewed with unbridled menace. “When did Ryoo join the Shining Daggers.”

“He didn’t,” the gang member countered. “Ryoo paid our gang to hide him while he was bouncing at clubs. We wanted to bring him in but he refused.”

“Why was he hiding here?”

The FBI agent scoffed signaling his growing impatience.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell us anything. We kept him out of trouble and the payments kept coming. After seeing him work, the boss didn’t question it so we didn’t either.”

“Your gang sounds weak,” Michael taunted. “Why would you let Ryoo go without a fight?”

“Because he promised to help our gang expand,” he coughed. “By supplying us some new drugs.”

“Where are they?!” Michael fiercely spat.

“We never got them,” the gang member answered. “But these drugs weren’t for selling he told us. We were supposed to take them.”

That was news Michael didn’t want to here. If Ryoo Myung-Dae was peddling Agent M as a drug to gang members, there was no way to measure the amount of damage it could do. In the blink of an eye, the country would erupt into chaos. Hundreds of Ryoo clones would be canvassing the street and imposing there will. It would take Michael months to track them all down and that would be if he could shut the supply down first.

This interrogation was going nowhere. Michael wasn’t getting any useful information out of him. As much as he’d love to snap this twerp’s neck he had the proverbial angel sitting on his shoulder telling him it wasn’t allowed. The only thing that helped was the fact that word hasn’t spread of Ryoo’s death among his former comrades. Without that knowledge, Michael still may be able to intimidate this goon into spilling the beans.

“Where can I find Ryoo Myung-Dae?”

“I told you I don’t know!”

Michael pulled the gang member back and slammed him into the wall creating a skull shaped dent.

“Answer me!”

“I said I don’t – “

The gang member couldn’t formulate words let alone breathe in the FBI agent’s vice. He tried to compose himself while awaiting certain death and finally he shouted the one word, the only word in this whole mess that would save his life.

“Washington!”

That name sent spirals of confusion coursing through Michael’s mind. His grip tightened. The gang member had only a few moments to explain himself before death loomed in.

“Ryoo used to get deliveries here,” he choked. “Didn’t know what was in them but the boss saved the boxes.”

The FBI agent growled through his teeth.

“Where?!”

“Back there,” the gang member pointed. “Behind that door!”

Michael ceased his grip and dropped the beaten stooge. The gang member sucked in all of the lovely air he could while still trying to circumvent the pain of the entire experience. Freedom never felt so horrible.

As he walked through the remnants of the bar, Michael felt his anticipation grow. He hadn’t experienced this sensation since his hunt years back. If Davis saw that side of him then or even now, his opinion on the whole matter of the anti-Christ may be significantly changed and not in Michael’s favor.

The FBI agent slowly opened the back door to reveal a small office. A sole chair that appears to have survived every major World War sat in front of a cheap plastic table. There were a few scattered documents piled up next to a general ledger. The gang may have been weak physically but it kept detailed information of all of their business transactions with names, addresses and phone numbers written cleanly and legibly. Michael tossed the chair aside and began rummaging through the other scattered contents. His frustration was slowly growing but summarily silenced when he came upon a small brown box with Ryoo’s name and this address written on it. There were several stamps and custom markings decorating the box that confirmed the gang member’s statement. And this box was just the perfect size to fit a syringe and a couple of bottles of medicine that would go otherwise unnoticed to the untrained eye.

Fate has certainly spun a unique web. The one place that was desperate for Michael’s attention was exactly where this box was shipped from. Though the FBI agent didn’t believe in coincidences, at least this way he’ll be able to quell the Director while fulfilling the interests of his direct superior. Michael tore the address label off the box and headed for the door. He didn’t even shoot the gang member a passing glance as he exited.

Davis thought to ask a question of the FBI agent before he passed but quickly quashed it. He followed alongside Michael walking back through the lifeless neighborhood and back towards their vehicle parked a couple of safer blocks away.

“Did you find what you were looking for Michael?” Davis kindly asked.

The way he presented that question was as if the previous interference in the FBI agent’s work didn’t happen. Michael shot him a quick glance that was all the confirmation the young Paladin needed.

“I should probably make arrangements for travel then,” he started with a smile. “Where should I tell the pilot we’re heading?”

Michael took a deep breath masked within the aura of unpleasantness quickly surrounding him. Testament had become a great asset in this entire endeavor. Michael would never admit that Davis’ interference with saving that gang member’s life actually gave them a positive resolution. There was no way to know if any of those other thrashed goons knew anything. The young Paladin had saved Michael a lot of trouble and it seemed like despite his best efforts, they both knew it was true. The least he could do was give Davis an answer to his question that would definitely lead to more questions than answers.

“D.C.”

“The capital?” Davis questioned. “What are you hoping to find there?”

Michael shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

He thought long and hard about this next part. This particular FBI agent has rarely if ever asked for any direct help. In this case, he couldn’t find any other away around it.

“I need a favor.”

The surprised look on the young Paladin’s face was both wide and genuine. He couldn’t believe he was hearing those words. Maybe Davis has finally worn the great Michael Madison down. Maybe this FBI agent has seen the value in their relationship. And maybe, just maybe they were slowly becoming friends.

“It would be my pleasure,” Davis cheerfully replied. “How may I help you?”

“My gear,” he started. “It’s in the trunk of my car back in Los Angeles.”

“I will have some of our friends take care of that for you. What will they be looking for in particular?”

“Weapons. Armor. Explosives,” he responded. “I need it all.”

“I believe we can arrange that. I can have them waiting for us at the airport in Washington if that is the most convenient.”

Michael nodded. Asking for all of his gear now may seem a bit extreme but it goes with the territory. Anyone who’s supplied Ryoo Myung-Dae with Agent M obviously knows how powerful the substance is. The battle in Hesperia last year taught Michael a lot of things. One of the most important is to always have a plan in motion even if you are forced to make it up on the spot.

The fact of the matter is he had no idea what to expect. This entire trip from Vegas to now has seemed like one huge wild goose chase. The FBI agent couldn’t say for certain what they were going to face when they reach this address but he would rather be prepared then sorry. After all of the time it took to collect the pieces of gear Davis would have thought they were almost symbolic to him. The truth is they were just tools to help him get the job done. Any time he brought them out things always had way of escalating. The trail of blood he’s left over the years would seriously sour his relationship with Davis should it be forced to return now.

He really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

March 27th, 2013 6:30AM

Washington, D.C.

Colonel Lee and his troops woke up at first sunlight and immediately continued their work from the previous night. All of the tasks assigned to them by Dr. Shin were incredibly easy although a bit laborious at times. The empty office space below was reinforced with steel grates along the walls, iron bars on the windows, and the doors torn out and replaced with a sliding metal gate. In one short afternoon the large unallocated space has been turned into a makeshift prison. Reasons for this decision were still unknown to Colonel Lee but he was a soldier, not a strategist. Following orders is what he was best at.

After unloading all of the crates, the soldiers stacked each of them in an orderly single set along the west end of the building. There were exactly thirty wooded boxes about the width and length of an average refrigerator. They were crudely constructed but the soldiers were ordered to handle them the utmost respect and care.

The men continued to work on the lower level. The doctor ordered a secondary lab to be built near all of the crates and the soldiers spent most of their time unpacking boxes and positioning all of the equipment. Most of it looked like extremely expensive medical devices which didn’t seem to bother anyone but Colonel Lee. As far as he knew, Dr. Shin was a chemist, not a medical doctor. Something about the entire set up just didn’t feel right. Regardless of his personal feelings, it didn’t stop Lee from completing the tasks assigned to him. If General Song believed in this mission then so did the Colonel with every ounce of strength left in his body.

“Good morning Colonel,” called the doctor from the warehouse entrance.

Lee had been so focused on his task that he neglected to pay attention to the rest of the world around him. Even those who had just entered the premises.

“Good morning doctor,” Lee saluted. The rest of his men followed suit.

Dr. Shin gave a passing smile. He loved their enthusiasm but their regards for protocol and formality were a bit much at times.

“Follow me,” the doctor ordered while giving the Colonel and knowing nod. Without saying another word the Colonel obeyed.

They walked through the warehouse and up the stairs where Dr. Shin’s laboratory was located. Thought the soldiers worked hard outside it was silent walking up to the second floor. The air around the enclosed structure was ominous. The sun may not have fully risen but there was still an aura of darkness surrounding this place.

“Please have a seat Colonel,” said Dr. Shin directing him to a metal folding chair on the opposite side of his desk.

He did as he was ordered and promptly sat down. The doctor took his seat across from Lee and booted up the laptop before him. While it was booting up, Dr. Shin slid a small manila folder towards the Colonel.

“I hope your men are prepared,” smiled the doctor. “We’re beginning the main operation this afternoon.”

Finally a bit of exciting news. Lee held back a smile but in his mind he was dancing. This was the moment he had waited six long months for. They finally had their chance to show their country what it meant to be a true warrior for the People’s Army. He opened the folder with great interest and began scanning the documents enclosed. Several photographs stared back at him along with a map of the surrounding area with several locations circled in red ink.

“The delegates from both South Korea and our homeland will be arriving at approximately noon. After a briefing and a luncheon, the meetings inside the Oval Office are scheduled to begin approximately around three pm. The first photograph is of the representatives of South Korea including their current President Park Su-Ji. The second are members of our own government who have, in a manner of speaking, defected. They are representing our nation.”

The Colonel investigated each photograph. He looked for any unique details and features amongst the group of people that were representing his country. One person stood out particular. He was barely noticeable upon first glance standing in the background but once the Colonel gave him a deep look, he was immediately touched with a feeling of nostalgia.