Find him, Agent Martin.
Or don’t bother coming home.
But Rick knew his luck had changed with this morning’s call. Even more so when he’d been told his target was believed to be in Dongying. Trains to the large industrial city on the coast ran hourly, and Dongying was less than 350 kilometers away. Within thirty minutes of receiving his new assignment, Rick had made his way to the massive main hall of the Beijing West Train Station and purchased his ticket.
Now, as he walked in the dim light of dawn on the northeast side of the city, he wondered exactly how long it was going to take to find his fucking target.
Rick glanced around warily. The large dorms were already beginning to stir with activity. A cacophony of footsteps and human voices filled the cold morning air as young men and women dressed in simple, monochromatic uniforms suddenly filled the corridors and courtyards. They eyed the tall, dark-haired American curiously as they made their way towards the nearby factories for another grueling sixteen-hour shift. Rick ignored them as they passed. His attention was instead focused on the large three-digit numbers painted on the corners of each building. He continued to thread his way through the labyrinth of dorms for another twenty minutes, barely noticing the quickly thinning crowd. When the number of the building he was searching for finally appeared before him, Rick realized he was once again walking alone.
Building #847 stood at the southeast corner of dormitories that bordered the colossal factories within the complex. He stopped next to it and stared up at the grim façade. The lifeless building looked like something out of a bad horror film and a sense of foreboding briefly stirred in Rick’s stomach. He shook his head and stepped into the corridor that led to the elevators. Almost immediately he was struck by the smell of rotting waste.
Of the four elevators located in the corridor, three stood open and useless. Their cramped interiors were filled ceiling-high with layers of decomposing trash. The fourth hummed noisily as Rick stepped up to its closed doors. He watched with growing impatience as the floor indicator light hovered unmoving on the sixth floor. A young girl in a factory uniform marched past him, watching him with a wry grin as she headed towards one of the building’s large open stairwells. A few minutes later, Rick sighed in frustration and begrudgingly followed after her up the stairs.
∞
Inside his small ICE office, Tom leaned back from his laptop and stared at copies of the letters spread across his desk, each of them marked heavily with red ink. Normally such messiness would have caused something of a panic attack in him. The random arrangement of pages and thick scratches of ink was a picture of disorder and chaos. And yet, at this moment, the disorder didn’t bother him at all. In fact, as he looked at the landscape of paperwork, Tom felt something else entirely.
Validation.
Despite their conversation earlier that morning, Tom had ignored the Director’s instructions to focus his attention on Jeri Halston. As far as he saw it, there simply wasn’t any point. It wasn’t that he failed to see Preston’s logic. After all, the letters were addressed to her. And even if she wasn’t the person the messages were intended for, she almost certainly knew them. But a terrorist? Not a chance. Jeri might be a cold, introverted bitch that didn’t like men, but she wasn’t a terrorist. Tom was sure of it. Which meant there was only one real question worth asking.
Who were the letters really meant for?
It was that question that led Tom back to his cramped office following his meeting with Preston. He’d immediately pulled out his own copy of the letters and investigation summary that had been handed over to the Director. It had taken several hours to painstakingly analyze the details of each murder and look for statements in the corresponding letter that matched those details. But now, as he stared at the summary of what he’d found, Tom was certain he was on to something.
Letter #1 / Assam, India:
Corresponding Incident: Marcello Avogadro / killed in vehicle collision / subject was driving in a tuk-tuk / flammable materials in one of the vehicles caught fire and quickly consumed the body.
Statements made in letter: took my last tuk-tuk ride to the market last night, which means this assignment is done / I’m burned out baby
Letter #2 / Al Jubail, Saudi Arabia:
Corresponding Incident: No known incident
Statements made in letter: I am in Al Jubial / waiting for a new assignment
Letter #3 / Port Harcourt, Nigeria:
Corresponding Incident: Director of Research Shahid Al Dossari killed / explosive device in his hotel room
Statements made in letter: don’t blow up at me / it’s going to go off / one in four