Deep within a secret base, a man sat on a leather chair, facing a wall of monitors each displaying a different person, each wearing a mask. He wore an expensive suit, petting the cat resting on his lap. To his left was a small table with a glass of wine. To the wall on his right, a display of masterful art pieces, such as Johannes Vermeer’s The Concert. The original.

“The ILS is firmly under our grasp. The upstart’s assets down south are on their last ropes. We’re identifying the next target but their logistics should be severely hampered with this.”

The man nodded.

“Were you able to convince the Icy Falcon? He would appreciate participating in the cleanup.”

“Unfortunately no, he remains unresponsive.”

An old man shook his head.

“A pity.”

An old woman took the stage.

“He will have to be dealt with then. Such power cannot be allowed to remain unchecked.”

The man in the room turned to another monitor.

“Perhaps, Solomon, what is the general sentiment among the ILS?”

Solomon rubbed his chin and took a sip of tea.

“Rank and file are complying without too much fuss. The heroes, however, are another case. Now that the passionate rage is dying down, they'll begin to ask questions, and something happening to Icy Falcon would raise many questions. It would be wise to avoid provoking them until they've truly accepted the new leadership.”

“I can handle them, they’ll listen to the ILS.”

“You should know, Mr. Director, that heroes do not like to blindly follow.”

“They followed Green.”

“And you are not her.”

The man in the room raised a hand.

“Enough. The Falcon is out of play in any case, it should be fine to leave him for later. What’s the situation with EL Bank?”

The old man nodded.

“The Herring boy has been surprisingly quiet and clever, but it’s only a matter of time. And as long as he’s quiet, EL Bank is funding no one.”

The man in the room sighed.

“Everything is going according to plan then, except one. Just who is the upstart who put this all together?”

Everyone went silent for a second.

“Carter, any luck?”

“No, it’s strange. I’ve quadruple-checked Green’s files and found not a single clue. She was aware of EL Bank and its connection to the villains but that’s as far as it goes for her. However she reported to the upstart, she did not record it here.”

The old woman scoffed.

“Obviously she wouldn’t. Don’t let your pride blind you, Vice-Director.”

“Any luck on the other side?”

The old man shook his head.

“The Herring boy’s been quiet, his KGB bodyguard too. Neither have made any moves or contacts.”

The old woman shook her head.

“And yet we lost an entire cell to a small-time villain. A minor cell to be sure, but still.”

The old man shrugged.

“Could be a coincidence. Mablite’s rare, a lot of people might have noticed it moving.”

“We haven’t achieved what we’ve achieved by believing in coincidence.”

The man shook his head.

“In any case, finding this upstart is now our top priority. Carter, keep putting pressure on their assets. Solomon, I want you investigating this full-time. Everyone else put out your feelers and watch for any big moves. The counterattack is coming and I want us ready for it.”

The man lifted his glass. Everyone else picked up a glass of some sort.

“To peace everlasting.”

““To peace everlasting.””

Bob walked down the hallway, entering into a large room. All around, minions typed away at computers or sorted stacks of paper on their desks. Bob walked towards the large desk at the back, where a man in a mask poured over the documents. Bob gave a salute.

“Minion TK-189451B, reporting.”

“At ease, report.”

“Mission accomplished.”

“Verified?”

Bob pulled out his phone and played a video of a bomb going off.

“The Molten Robber Gang is no more. Molten Robber himself survived but was picked up by the ILS shortly after.”

“Good work. Sorry but your next mission starts immediately.”

The man handed Bob a sheet of paper. Bob’s eyes narrowed as he looked over it.

“Any questions?”

“Preferences on method?”

“At your discretion.”

Bob nodded and placed the paper in the portable incinerator by the man’s desk. He pointed to the other papers on the desk. The man nodded once and handed Bob one of them.

“Minion, you’ve done good work for me. Finish this, and you’ll earn my trust.”

Bob gave a salute and walked out of the room.

Bob let out a sigh as he walked down the hall. This sort of job was always annoying.

“Why the long face, Bob?”

Bob gave a nod to the man who walked up beside him.

“Designations, TK-189452V”

“Oh come on, what are we, stormtroopers?”

“We're not?”

“Touche. Well, what’s the deal with you, TK-X521 blah blah blah?”

Bob shrugged.

“Another mission.”

“So soon?”

“Seems urgent.”

“Dang, well at least you’re appreciated here. They still got me on intern duty!”

“It’s because you talk too much.”

“Haha I’ve heard that before.”

“I bet.”

Kasey chuckled and shook his head.

“So, guess we’re canceling game night?”

“So it seems.”

“A shame.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

Kasey clapped him on the back.

“Sounds good, well duty calls.”

“To peace everlasting.”

“To peace everlasting.”

Bob stepped into the break room and walked towards a stocked bookshelf. He took out a piece of paper and folded it in half, placing it in one of the books such that it was just visible from the outside. He then walked over

Then he left to take a nap.

It would likely be a long night.

Bob woke up, yawning as he stretched. He then took out his phone and pressed a button on his wrist, activating the tracker tuned to a specific chemical. One nearly undetectable.

Unless you already knew to look for it.

Two hits.

One still inside the base. Probably an incinerator or maybe even where it was supposed to be, if the mole was smart. And they wouldn’t have gotten this far if they were dumb.

The other, moving outside right now.

Bob let out a sigh and got his things, then headed out into the night.

And swore.

Of course it was raining tonight.

Bob stood in an alley along an empty street, trying to hide from the rain. Three blocks away from him was his target. An average apartment building, no distinguishing features to set it apart from any other, or so it appeared on the Internet. He couldn’t get any closer himself, as there were bound to be spotters.

But that was fine, he wasn’t here for the hideout.

The intel in question wasn’t an issue. A big plan, and canceling it would hurt to be sure. But the boss knew that the moment he handed over the paper. A plan canceled hurt much less than a plan interrupted.

Bob glanced at his phone. Target was on the move. He let out a sigh and reached into his pocket.

Target rounded the corner.

Target approached the alley.

Target passed.

Bob stepped out, placing his gun into the target’s back.

“Don’t move.”

The target raised their hands.

“Wallet’s in my left pocket, you mind if I reach for it?”

“I’m not here for that, Kasey.”

Kasey jolted, then let out a chuckle.

“Ah, that’s too bad then. So this is the job they got you on? Bad luck for me.”

“So it seems.”

“Hey, Bob…would you answer one thing for me? Final request and all”

“...depends.”

“I’ve been thinking too, you know? We were getting nowhere until the mablite job. But, it shouldn’t have worked. Mablite doesn’t come in shipments that large, there should’ve been one case, tops, or else way more security than we brought. New boss might've been fooled but you and I both know our late-manager wouldn’t have left it to us of all people. Which means someone swapped the cases. And it definitely wasn’t me.”

“...”

“You’re working an angle too, right? And you’re way better at this than me, clearly.”

“What's the question?”

“You looking to bring this place down too?”

“...”

“Heh, I know what it means when you go silent. Easier if you minimize the actual lies, right? Look, I don’t really know what you’re up to, and I’m not telling you my side either. But my phone’s in my right pocket. You’ll have about a minute before it burns out. If you need another angle, well, more options won’t hurt, right?”

Kasey began to reach for his left pocket.

“Well, it was worth a shot. Only one thing to do now. Goodbye, Bob. It’s been fun.”

"...it's been fun."

Kasey spun around, pulling out the gun in his pocket.

Bob squeezed the trigger.

He panted as he reached for his phone.

“Requesting cleanup.”

Bob stood in front of the leader’s desk once more. The man nodded as he looked over a report.

“Excellent work, minion. Unfortunate we couldn’t determine his employer, but removing the mole was top priority. You had my attention. Now, you have my trust. Go take a rest, you’ll have a lot more to do from now on.”

Bob gave a salute and walked from the room.

He opened his phone, glancing at the new number within.

He let out a sigh.

Sometimes he hated it when a plan came together.