“This place lacks a certain...je ne sais quoi.’’

  Cyan wanted nothing more than to stick a fork into her eardrums to deem her incapable of listening to William’s complaints about how dingy Rock In Diner was. Judging by Evan’s eyeroll to William’s critique, she was pretty sure that he was one ‘je ne sais quoi’ away from borrowing her fork and stabbing his own ears with it.

  ‘’These seats don’t have the right fluff.’’ William complained. ‘’If a rat tried to nibble on these, his little teeth would break.’’

  ‘’Rodents have incisors that grow continuously throughout their lives. So, you don’t have to worry.’’ Evan replied flatly. ‘’The rodent will live.’’

  The three Agents were in Rock In Diner, sitting in a booth; capacity made for four, waiting for the opportunity to ask one of the current owners a few questions about the diner and perhaps look around for some clues. They were following the lead Pedro had given them the night before and they anticipated to acquire useful information from it. Cyan truly hoped that they hadn’t wasted a trip because then working with one of her teammates, who made it undoubtedly clear that she was a waste of good air, wouldn’t have been for nothing.

  ‘’Have you experienced fine dining in France? It’s so eye opening.’’ William gushed.

  Evan stared at William fixedly.

  ‘’If you loved your life in France so much, why did you move back here?’’ he asked curiously.

  William closed his mouth and cleared his throat. His silence shook Cyan because she expected him to jump at the opportunity to tell them how much croissants were better than scones. He clearly had his own secrets regarding why he chose to return home and it appeared he didn’t want to share them.

  ‘’I have my reasons.’’ he responded curtly and averted his eye to one of the menus in front of them.

  For the first time since they entered the diner, Cyan hadn’t experienced a moment of peace due to William’s smart and condescending comments. It took Evan’s inquisitiveness to finally shut him up. Cyan wasn’t sure whether he asked that question with the intention of clipping William’s lips or he was just being nosy. Either way, it didn’t matter to her. She was just relieved she didn’t have to hear one more tale about his amazing life in France.

  Cyan remembered what Aria and Harper told her about his family. Specifically, how wealthy they were. It made sense why William had so many expensive memories all over globe. He was used to luxury that sitting in the eatery they were currently in was clearly asking a lot from him. Cyan couldn’t help but notice that he fidgeted every time he subconsciously leaned back into his seat, wiped his jacket when his scrawny fingers accidentally nudged the dinner table and glared around the place with so much contempt. He obviously preferred the fancy feat where the meals had less grease and more zeroes on the bill. Cyan understood that people like William didn’t have the gene to appreciate life in its simplest form.

  They were sitting inside a heaty restaurant with the noise of oil sizzling and the smell of fresh bread dancing in the air. He couldn’t comprehend the quality, the way the diner resembled the aeon of the Roaring 20s where such diners thrived in that era of American history or the jukebox attached to the wall on their right, reverberating unrivalled rock music. Cyan wasn’t familiar with the American culture but she had to admit that the street names and number plates pasted around the diner took her back to a time that was inexplicably familiar. It could've been the American classic she had watched recently. Hairspray, it was called. The inside of the diner looked a lot like the diners of that movie explaining the strong case of déjà vu.

  A few minutes after they finally received a moment of peace, an old woman suspending a smile from cheek to cheek, eagerly approached their table.

  ‘’Hi there! I have been instructed by our manager to offer you a free meal whilst you wait for him.‘’ she informed. ‘’Can I take your order?’’

  ‘’French toast with three cream-stuffed cherries, please.’’ William ordered automatically.

  The waitress’s eyes widened, stunned by William’s request. Her expression asked if William was aware of the fact that he was in a fast-food restaurant where they didn’t serve fancy breakfast delicacies. She probably wondered what cream-stuffed cherries were. Cyan wondered that herself.

  The waitress decided to respond to William anyway because she knew she was obliged to.

  ‘’I’m sorry, dear. No toasts here.’’ she replied in her Texan accent.

  ‘’I wake up to disappointment every day.’’ William lamented dramatically.

  ‘’Can I get you a juicy burger instead?’’ the waitress asked optimistically.

  ‘’He is a vegetarian.’’ Evan intervened. ‘’Plain fries will do. And if you could minimize the oil in the deep-frying pan and keep it clean as possible, that would be great.’’

  Cyan did not want the way Evan understood William to amaze her but it did. As strangely as she perceived it, the scene before her was surprisingly a familiar sight. Evan’s response was a mirror reaction to Cyan’s whenever Janine made any unrealistic demands to the chef. She would cut Janine off and order for them both to prevent any embarrassment on Cyan’s part. Once, the two girls visited a Bohemian restaurant in the city of Prague during their restaurant-hopping excursion. Janine ordered baked potatoes with Caesar salad, except, she asked the waiter to remove all the main ingredients that made up the salad and deliver just the lettuce and the dressing.

  Cyan ended up ordering Spaghetti Bolognese for the both of them that evening.

  Her heart sank a little when she remembered her adventures with J. They were texting last night but Cyan could really feel the absence of her presence though they had been away from each other for only a short time. She'd have to call her today and update thoroughly on the details she was allowed to fill her in on.

  ‘’What about you darlin’?’’ the waitress asked Cyan.

  ‘’Six buffalo wings, a double stacked burger with bacon and a plate of chilly fries with extra cheese.’’ Cyan ordered.

  ‘’Drink?’’

  ‘’A glass of water, please.’’ Cyan replied.

  ‘’Comin’ right up.’’ the waitress said as she collected all the menus that were on their table.

  Waiting until the waitress was out of hearing zone, Evan asked, ‘’What do you think of this place?’’

  ‘’Nice.’’ Cyan answered while simultaneously looking around. ‘’Cute place, really.’’

  ‘’Do you think trading happened here?’’ Evan asked specifically. ‘’The walls look weak. They have no proofing. How do you trade drugs when everyone on the other side can hear you?’’

  ‘’Things have changed.’’ William reasoned. ‘’The diner is not the same as it was twenty years ago.’’

  ‘’There is a door right there, near the ordering counter.’’ Cyan observed. ‘’Any chance that anything took place down there?’’

  ‘’We should check it out.’’ Evan suggested.

  ‘’I’m willing to bet anything that there is absolutely nothing in that room.’’ William responded. ‘’Twenty long years have passed. If there was anything in in there, it’s not there anymore.’’

  ‘’We just sit?’’ Cyan asked.

  ‘’No. But it’s unwise to place all our hope that there might be something behind it. We have to accept the possibility that this lead might take us nowhere.’’ he answered.

  ‘’If we don’t find anything in this diner then yesterday’s charade was in vain.’’ Cyan pointed out.

  ‘’Trauma sits comfortably in our Organisation. You could go through so much of it with nothing to show for it in the end.’’ William replied.

  William had described the last six months of Cyan’s life as if he had watched her live it. She almost burst out into humourless laughter at how accurate he put it.

  About to shape the words to respond to him, William’s phone began to vibrate and he immediately picked it off the table.

  William murmured to his phone, ‘’Oh, I completely forgot.’’

  ‘’What’s up?’’ Evan asked him.

  ‘’My father is attending the ADM thing in Geneva today.’’ he answered.

  Evan’s head jerked up. ‘’What? That’s today?’’

  ‘’It’s today.’’ William answered in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘’I know because I've been travelling to Switzerland with my dad for the last couple of years after my parents separated.’’

  ‘’That sucks.’’ Evan said shortly.

  Cyan internally face-palmed at Evan’s pathetic attempt to sympathise with William. Evan wasn’t cold at heart. She knew that. The only explanation she could sum up was that he couldn’t express himself adequately in situations that demanded consolation. He grew quiet or replied with short, curt phases such as, ‘’That sucks.’’

  Assessing William, Cyan noticed that he didn’t seem to be bothered. His eyes were on his phone, fingers typing rapidly. She guessed that he didn’t need any cheering up. Pity wasn’t an emotion he was trying to evoke. And boys had their own ways of showing emotion. She had just forgotten, being that she had been away from a full team in half a year.

  ‘’There you go!’’ a man’s voice exclaimed.

  Cyan traced the squeaky voice to a man with a pitch-black, oily mohawk standing on his head. He masterfully carried three plates on his right hand and balanced a tray with their drinks on his right. When the upper half of his knees made contact with the edge of their table, he put the tray of drinks down. Cyan retrieved her water and took a sip of the iced H2O. Evan followed Cyan's lead and took his own glass of orange Fanta.

  William didn't order a beverage so the waiter took out his fries first and guided the oval white plate in front of him. He pushed Cyan's meal in front of her and she helped him push Evan's burger to him since he was sitting further from the man that was distributing their meals. When the plates no longer obscured the man that brought their food, Cyan recognised that their waiter was a short, stout man. He wore a stained, burgundy shirt with black dress pants and brown, worn-out loafers.

  He threw the plastic tray that held their plates on an empty neighbouring table and forced himself on William's side of the booth. Because Will wasn't expecting the waiter to push his weight onto his side of the table, he lost his form and banged his head harshly on the hard wall. By the end of it all, the waiter was breathing heavily and William had developed a deep scowl on his face.

  "You must be...?" Cyan asked as she struggled to contain her laughter.

  The man tittered. "I'm Jack. Jack the Manager.’’

  "The food looks amazing." Evan thanked.

  Cyan's buffalo wings were dripping of thick barbecue sauce, sitting alongside her towering, toasted burger buns that sheltered two juicy patties, crispy, golden brown bacon strips, fresh lettuce and melted cheese. Her cheesy fries attempted to steal the spotlight with their crispiness as they accompanied her burger on the side.

  She wasn't certain whether it was because she’d only had goulash and Czech dumplings for the last six months or perhaps it was the fact that her stomach was growling loud enough to disturb the other customers but she was compelled to devour her plate. Against every being in her body, she took an elegant bite of her burger and allowed the ecstasy to travel around in her system.

  "I thought girls were supposed to eat small portions. Like, little salads with feta and unsalted chicken." William commented.

  "Will!" Evan chastised, appalled.

  "What? I'm just asking. It's not like that water is doing anything." William shrugged.

  Once upon a time, Cyan would've taken offense to what he said. Being scrutinised over what was in her plate wasn't exactly a feeling she welcomed with open arms. But she learned to make peace with her need for indulgence once in a while. If it was a crime to eat, then William might as well have dragged her out of the diner in handcuffs.

  "So, Jack. We've already introduced ourselves earlier as the SS-

  "Oh! Yeah, yeah!" Jack interjected excitedly. "I can't believe you're in my diner."

  "Yes." Evan replied slowly. "We just wanted to ask you a few questions."

  "You're the same guys who chased the London Lawbreaker on the bridge!" Jack exclaimed.

  "No. Those were our other teammates from a different Div-"

  "Wait! How about that homicide guy that was caught for killing 6 women? That was you too, wasn't it?" Jack asked.

  "Yes." Evan answered. "But we-"

  "I'm actually embarrassed to say this but I have always wanted to send my application to the Special Service." Jack laughed nervously. ‘’But you know, since you are here...’’

  "We wouldn’t recommend you to our Organisation even if all you had to do was fry meat and pour carbonated drinks into plastic cups." William commented flatly.

  Jack regressed as if he had been slapped.

  ‘’Can we focus, please?’' Evan asked. ‘’Jack, we need to know about the person who owned this diner before you. Can you tell us about him?"

  "Oh, yes. Of course." Jack complied. "It was owned by a Vietnamese couple before they sold it to me."

  "Okay. And when this couple sold this place to you, did they tell you how the restaurant was sold to them?" Cyan asked.

  "They gave me a brief history, yeah. But I mean, I was just ready to sign the papers and kick them out!" Jack chortled.

  "What did they say to you?" William asked impatiently.

  "That this place was empty when they first visited it. No one was running it. They could hear the crickets chirping." Jack responded. "They heard through the grapevine that this place was run by some boys who participated in illegal activities. That's why they found it empty after three years of abandonment. Phuong and Thanh said they saw something in it and were determined to fix it up."

  "Phuong and Thanh didn't purchase the diner from anyone?" Evan asked.

  "No. They found it empty and occupied the place.’’ Jack answered. ‘’They were always afraid that the original owners of this place would come back to either reclaim it or ask for their profits since the restaurant was doing so well. But no one ever came." Jack answered.

  "No one at all in the last five years?" Evan asked.

  "No one." Jack confirmed. "Phuong called this diner her miracle. That's why she sold it to me at a great price."

  "Did Phuong and Thanh ever tell you exactly what they were told about the boys that ran the diner?" William asked.

  Jack hesitated. "I don't know. It's a morbid topic."

  "We really need to know." William emphasised.

  "Drugs." Jack whispered. "A fight club apparently. And I think wizardry."

  "Okay, maybe not the last one." Cyan discarded. "What was that about a fight club?"

  "I don't know. I think it means men fighting in some club." Jack answered innocently.

  "The owners invite customers interested in making serious money to place bets over the men who are to fight each other that night." Evan answered. "Similar to gambling. It makes a lot of money for whomever is hosting the fights."

  Cyan scrutinised the door she had noticed earlier. If the claim of a fight club was true, then an underground room would've been exactly what they used. The diner was a small space with tables bumping each other therefore they probably had more room for their extra activities.

  "Have you ever been behind that door?" Cyan pointed.

  "No." Jack answered shortly.

  "In the time that you've owned this place, you've never tried to see what was behind it?" Cyan asked again.

  Jack inhaled a quick breath. "No keys."

  "So? You couldn't find other ways to open it?" William answered skeptically.

  "No. I haven't owned this place long enough to want to know what's behind the door." Jack answered.

  "Now, Jack." Cyan cooed. "Something tells me that you're not telling us the truth."

  As soon as they met Jack, he was a ball of fiery energy. But when Cyan mentioned the door, he became unusually subdued. That change of behaviour in such a short space of time suggested to Cyan that he was being dishonest. Jack had, in fact, opened the door. And Cyan was sure that he had a little secret behind it.

  Jack gulped. "I've already told you what I know, okay? Okay."

  His flushed face told them the opposite. Cyan had never witnessed someone so terrible at lying. She didn't even have to put effort in reading him to know that he was evidently hiding something.

  He attempted to slide his way out of the booth when William grabbed his thick arm before his loafers touched the floor.

  "Sit down." Evan ordered chillingly.

  Goosebumps formed on Jack's arm and he quickly slid back into his seat.

  "What are you hiding?" William asked.

  Jack began to sweat. And not metaphorically. Pools of liquid were spread out on his forehead, ready to roll down his temple.

  "Uhm, well, that would be-"

  "I suggest the next words that leave your mouth be the truth." William threatened.

  He reached into his denim jacket and retrieved a silver key. It was one of the inventions that Shannon, who headed the Organisation’s Technical Team, created over a year ago. William was so adamant that they would need it at some point on their trip and he was right. Evan didn't think it was necessary but to shut William up, he just agreed that he take it. Cyan knew he was silently thanking William for suggesting to carry it in the first place. She was too.

  "This is what we call a Universal Key." William began. "It has sensors inserted inside it that translate the dead bolt and lock buttons formation from any door structure to the metal of the key. I won’t explain further because your feeble mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend this meticulous creation. I’ll just simply say that this key can open any door. Anywhere."

  He pushed it towards Cyan and nodded towards the door.

  Cyan stood up, claimed the key and readied herself to unlock the door when Jack's sweaty hand grabbed her arm to stop her.

  "Okay, okay! I'll tell you what- what's inside!" Jack stammered.

  "Too late." William declined. "I'd rather see it than hear it."

  "Wait! I'll tell you! Please!" Jack exclaimed.

  "Quit screaming." Evan scolded. "You'll frighten your customers."

  The more he yelled, the tighter his grip was on Cyan. It just made her believe that whatever was behind that door was not something she was looking forward to discovering. Was he running his own fight club? Was he running an illegal salon? Or perhaps, he was gambling. He looked like a gambler.

  Evan removed Jack's wet hands off of her and she proceeded to the mysterious door near the wall.

  When she stood across the door, she aligned the silver key with the keyhole for it to decrypt the lock button formations in the door. The key emitted a blue light that scanned the components of the door and flew into the keyhole as if the two were magnetized to each other. The key slipped itself into the door and Cyan turned it once to the right. She turned it again in time to hear a clicking sound. She depressed the handle and pushed the door inward.

  She cast a glance back to their table to confirm with the guys that she had successfully opened the door. They nodded back, telling her to continue, while they sat with Jack.

  She inclined her head in agreement, pushed the door wider and put one foot in front of the other.

  Soon after she stepped into the room, she was viciously knocked aback by an atrocious stench that consumed the space she had just entered. She stopped breathing immediately before the smell clogged her nose. She had never missed the heavenly smell of cooked beef and fries more than in that moment.

  The room was dark but there was a spark of light that emanated a few feet from where she was standing. It came from a dim lamp hanging off the ceiling by a long, torn cord, illuminating the area very poorly. It was slowly swinging back and forth, eerily, as though there was a supernatural force pushing it from one direction to another. Directly under the light was a steel table with two shelves that resembled the medical worktables found in the hospitals. While nothing graced the company of the second shelf, an object similar to a short knife sat above it. Cyan squinted her eyes to discern what was situated on the table but without decipherable results because both the light and the table were a significant distance away from her. That, and she had left her glasses yet again.

  She was standing on a platform that led to a flight of metal stairs. She worked out that the only way she could see better was to descend the stairs and walk over to the table hence, carefully placing her foot on the first step. Just as she thought, the flight of stairs shook because of the extra weight added to the already unstable staircase.

  Cyan composed herself and instead of climbing down the stairs by solely placing her weight on one side, she moved to the center of the steps in order to balance the unstable set of stairs.

  With both feet on the steps, she heard an ear-breaking screech from them, similar to talons gliding down a blackboard. Cyan decided to ignore it to focus on her journey downstairs.

  Fourth step down out of nine steps, she realized that the screeching was all she could hear. The familiar laughter of customers and crying of babies was completely shut off from her. The restaurant noise was a distant memory and Cyan wondered if the walls were soundproofed.

  Focusing on going down the eighth step without dropping herself in the process, Cyan gained more momentum, securing better vision of the little table and what was on it. With one stair left, she swiftly jumped off it, looked back at the rattling stairs for a few seconds and walked a few feet towards the table.

  She reached her destination and recognized that the small knife that she had seen when she was on the platform of the stairs was a scalpel. A scalpel? Seeing the medical knife and medical table instantly made her nervous. As resistant as she was, she knew that she had to unblock her nose to confirm her thoughts.

  She breathed in. Her nose was filled up again by the revolting smell that claimed the air and she blocked her nose again. She attempted to breathe in through her mouth. But the image of swallowing fetid air with foul particles in it put a plug on the suggestion.

  Cyan wanted to drag herself out of the basement. Why had she volunteered to do this?

  She knew that if she needed to specifically identify what the smell in the room was to reveal what was in it then she had to allow her pathways to open and put the luxury of fresh air aside.

  She breathed in once again.

  Bleach.

  Right way, that created a flutter of panic in Cyan's stomach. She knew what a choking amount of bleach meant; dead bodies. Thinking about the medical knife and the tragic dullness she was currently in; she was afraid that it all made a little too much sense for Jack to be a murderer. Feet planted on the stone floor, she dreaded going any further. She didn't know what she was going to find. There could've been an unknown lingering in the darkness. If she was to die down here, who was going to know?

  With all these thoughts speeding like a race car, the voice in her head reminded her that she could handle it and if anything happened, the boys were upstairs.

  She wanted to take a deep breath to brace herself but she understood that that wasn't an option so instead, she just scanned the underground place again.

  To her left was another room. All that was visible to Cyan was a brick arch that contained a deep hole of darkness inside. She felt for her flashlight in her pockets to obtain a clear visual of what she was about to walk into. Tapping her jean pockets expectantly, Cyan couldn't feel any protuberances in her pants and she remembered that she had left it and her phone upstairs. She groaned at her mistake but realized that she had no other choice but to feel her way into the other room; which was the last thing she wanted to do considering she was the closest thing to a germophobe. She invited courage and dragged her feet to the brick wall that created an archway into the next room. She unwillingly placed both her hands on the wall and began to move with it as her guide.

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  Six steps later, her right hand no longer felt any brick, revealing that she had reached the end of the wall. With an inch of a step, she set both her feet into the room. She couldn't see much of anything but she came to the conclusion that if she was fully in the room, her eyes would help her see what she couldn't have from afar.

  She took a few more steps in.

  The stench of bleach was stronger in this room as compared to the one she had left. And there was another scent intertwined with the bleach. Another strong, concentrated smell that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

  Where exactly was she?

  She felt around the wall for a switch of some kind. There had to be one somewhere here. Her hands searched the wall for something softer than brick. Hope kept her going until she reached the corner of the archway wall. Like a rogue painter creating an abstract piece, she waved her hands all over the wall for a light switch. Her fingers began to crack because of the friction her hands were experiencing with the brick but luckily, they had hit something hard with a smooth surface and she realized that she had found the light.

  Before she flipped the switch, exhilaration to use her eyes again got the best of her and she bounced excitedly near the switch without thinking ahead of what might happen if she jumped around in the dark. That caused her to trip over an object she wasn't aware of and slamming her face into a hard surface. Her head spun from the impact but that wasn't nearly as staggering as the queer textures she tasted in her mouth. She coughed and splattered uncontrollably, what she thought were strands of hair, as if her life depended on it and attempted to steady herself by gripping onto the same hard surface that she bumped into for balance. For a nanosecond, she found her footing, and she was grateful to whatever she held onto because it gave her stability. However, she quickly let go because whatever was on the surface she held onto was pricking her palms and fingers. And it was also wet.

  And warm.

  Wait. Was it moving?

  What on earth did she just...?

  She tried to retreat briskly, back to the other room, but her behind bumped into yet another surface. The difference was that this surface wasn't as hard as the first and it made a small noise once Cyan made contact.

  Cyan jumped like she had been electrocuted by bolts of ferocious lightning and screamed the air out of her lungs. Her vision was now in line with the flicker of light in the first room and it allowed her to sprint back to the other room. Her heart was pounding hastily and for someone who claimed she wasn't easily scared by anything, she was quite disappointed in herself.

  She didn't know what was in there. What she experienced was open to interpretation and in her opinion, that was a more petrifying predicament.

  Cyan staggered back in efforts to leave the basement. Her feet pushed her towards the door in order to leave the basement. She walked with her back towards the stairs because she didn't want anything to sneak up on her while she was leaving. She realized that it was another bad idea among the few that she had made in the last fifteen minutes because she bumped into yet another hard surface.

  She shrieked and hysterically smacked what she had snuck up on her.

  "Cyan! It's me!" a male voice shouted.

  She stopped to look at who it was and she felt a relief so powerful that it overwhelmed her.

  "Evan." she whispered as she put her head on his shoulder.

  Evan scanned her to see if she had been injured in any way.

  "I'm fine." Cyan noticed.

  Evan acknowledged Cyan's response and let go of her arms. His nose scrunched up when the smell found a way into his nose and searched around the room. Cyan could tell that he was confused by what this place really was.

  "Bleach?" Evan asked.

  "Do you have your light?" Cyan asked.

  He took out a small, black flashlight from his denim pocket and switched it on.

  Besides the grey chapped and cracked walls with mould growing in them, there was nothing interesting to go over in the first room, so they moved into the second space to confront what had terrified Cyan.

  They stepped into the room.

  Cyan guided Evan's flashlight to her left where she attempted to feel for the switch. It was also the same area she had an unpleasant encounter with a hairy, mortifying creature.

  Evan threw his light upon the unknown they were trying to reveal.

  Cyan gasped and took a step back.

  "Is that...?" Evan breathed.

  "I-uhm." Cyan stuttered. "You see that too, right?"

  "Yeah." Evan answered slowly as he cocked his head to the side. "I'm afraid I do."

  Evan's flashlight shed light on a thick, hairy man leaning against the graffitied wall with fear masking his chubby face. He wore a black waist coat, without anything else inside, revealing all the tattoos that covered his entire body from his neck to his chest and arms. Cyan couldn't tell their story, because they were overlapping onto each other, nor did she want to because she was still trying to wrap her head around the discoveries they had made. The hairy, mortifying character was indeed just a hairy man attempting to blend in with the wall.

  Cyan remembered that there was another surface that she bumped into. She turned around and Evan turned around with her. The flashlight revealed a petite woman leaning against the painted wall, possessing luscious, black hair, multiple piercings on her face and jet-black lipstick. She wore a black jumpsuit, material resembling spandex and thick, black heels that didn't belong in their current century. She also had tattoos on her face all the way to her arms, just like the man behind them. And just like him, Cyan didn't waste time trying to understand the art on her features because she was too stunned to believe that the creature that caused her soul to leave her body with fear was the small woman standing in front of her.

  A thought occurred to Cyan that they might have been held in the basement against their will. But Cyan noticed their full, rosy cheeks, face covered in make-up, perfectly ironed clothes and disagreed with the thought. This was also aided by the chairs, stretcher tables, a few stencils, green soap, and different chemicals in little jars that surrounded them.

  "Tattoo parlour." Cyan and Evan said simultaneously.

  "Would you like one?" the man asked shyly.

  "What? No." Evan replied in exasperation. "Owning a tattoo parlour underneath a restaurant is illegal and very unsanitary. Are you aware of this?"

  "Jack wanted us here." the woman answered quietly.

  "And you just allowed Jack to store you down here? In the dark?" Evan grilled the tattoo artists.

  They both shrugged nonchalantly.

  Cyan groaned. "Time to go."

  They all left the brooding darkness that was the diner's basement and escorted Jack's illegal artists to one of the cars they had travelled in, waiting for LPD to arrive and take them to the station. Because a health code violated by the diner, Evan assigned Will to instruct all customers to stop eating immediately and clear out of the diner. They were all confused when William asked them to put their burgers and milkshakes down, as they had the right to be, but they all stood up calmly at the sound of Will's voice and created a calm stampede with all their belongings out the door. The plan was to clear out everyone before the LPD cruiser arrived to prevent panic. It seemed to work because within fifteen minutes, the tables that had been occupied by families, couples and friends were empty with only half-eaten food and half-full beverages as an indication of their presence some time before.

  Evan stood by the car that confined Jack and the tattoo artists as a guard when they heard the familiar police siren shriek loudly as it drove into the diner's parking lot. Two men and a woman jumped out of the vehicle; the man and the woman dressed in the police regalia and the other man in a swamp, green suit, holding a notebook, a rectangular recording device and an old-fashioned camera.

  Evan opened the Ford door and officially handed the diner's management to the custody of the two officers, who squeezed all three of them at the back of their cruiser. Cyan couldn't make out much of what Evan was saying to the policeman and policewoman, due to staying behind in the diner, but she knew he was explaining what they saw underneath the restaurant to them. The man and woman seemed to understand, jumped in their cruiser and drove away.

  Evan turned his attention to the third man who was still standing by the entrance and beckoned him to follow him inside the diner. The man followed behind Ev as he guided him to the door that had led Cyan and Evan to their strange discovery.

  "As I told the officers, the manager was running an illegal tattoo business that is in violation of the Health and Safety Policies.'' Evan explained to him. "You'll find what you need down there."

  The health inspector nodded, took out his flashlight and stepped into the basement.

  Once the health inspector was out of sight, Evan sat down at their booth, on the side that William sat before.

  Cyan sat across from him.

  "Can you believe we came here looking for George Campbell's past life but instead, we busted a diner manager and his illegal friends?" Cyan asked.

  "I wish I had known that when we were driving all the way here to check permits." Evan said dryly. "Pedro's lead was a waste of time."

  Straight away, Cyan's stomach caved in and her throat constricted. Nausea crept on her like a long, lost ghost and she felt the urge to vomit.

  "Are you alright?" Evan asked worriedly.

  "We ate in an unsanitary restaurant." Cyan heaved. "I mean, what if they tattooed the meat? I think I saw-"

  "You didn't eat tattooed meat today." Evan clarified.

  "Oh my." Cyan gasped. "What if we did?"

  "Hey, hey. Relax. You didn't." Evan reassured.

  Cyan leaned back into her seat with her face to the ceiling.

  "Our day can't get weirder than this." she said.

  Evan sighed. "I don't know. I think it can."

  Intrigued, Cyan asked, "What do you mean?"

  "I'm a little worried." Evan announced.

  Cyan sat up.

  "About what? Are you okay?" she asked.

  "I'm fine." Evan answered.

  Cyan stared at him expectantly.

  "Have you noticed that Nathan has been acting...strangely lately?" Evan asked.

  "I don't know how I would notice something like that considering I've only been in Leicester for less than two days." Cyan expressed.

  "I just thought you would since you know..." Evan trailed off. "You know him very well."

  "I didn't pick much. Why?" Cyan asked.

  Evan took an uneven breath and looked at Cyan carefully, contemplating whether it was the right decision to let her into his mind.

  He eventually gave in and broke the silence.

  "I think Nathan is hiding something." he revealed. "Concerning the case."

  Evan was right. He did find a way to make the day worse.

  "What made you reach such a conclusion, Ev?" Cyan asked.

  "I can just tell." Evan responded shortly.

  Cyan scoffed. "You've got to give me more than that, Evan. What, like you're using your weird, supernatural best friend connection to tell whether he is sabotaging this case?"

  "No. It means that I've known him for a very long time and noticing whenever he is being dishonest is as easy as wearing my badge and showing up to work every day." Evan retorted.

  "Well, I know him too. And he would never do what you're accusing him of." Cyan returned.

  "I'm not accusing him of anything." Evan responded with agitation in his voice. "But I noticed something. And I wouldn't be doing the team or the case any good by ignoring it."

  "Let us assume that your allegations are true." Cyan said. "What have you seen that has confirmed them enough for you to tell me? Instinct can only take you so far."

  "The date today. What's the date today?" Evan asked.

  "Are you seriously changing the subject?" Cyan asked incredulously.

  "I'm not." Evan refused. "What is the date today?"

  "I don't know, Evan. October 23rd?" Cyan answered in frustration.

  "It's October 22." Evan corrected.

  Cyan expected more information after that but Evan remained silent and eyed Cyan.

  Waiting for something more concrete from him, Cyan registered that Evan's silence was to provide enough room for Cyan to catch on to what he was thinking. He hadn't asked his question casually because he already knew the answer. He had asked to evoke a certain memory in her. The only problem was that Cyan was still beyond clueless to what Evan wanted her to know.

  "It's October 22. And?" Cyan asked.

  "Nathan has been unusually talkative, which is strange as you know, because he has a pensive personality." Evan explained.

  Cyan sighed. "He does that when he is lying. He uses that as a counterbalance so that no one notices that he is not being honest. At least that's what he thinks it does."

  "And yesterday. He was more than willing to sacrifice his reputation to find out more information from Pedro. That is not a decision he'd make if it meant creating a domino effect for his team."

  "I noticed that too." Cyan responded reflectively. "He knows that the Organisation is strict about that kind of thing."

  "And in the parking lot, he told us that the Directors' requested an audience with him." Evan recalled.

  "Yeah, he said that such cases have different protocols. Or something like that."

  "Think back to the date, Cy. What is today?" Evan asked intensely.

  She began to think harder. The date was familiar yes, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She knew it had something to do with SSU's cultures and traditions but every time she tried to remember; the thought slipped away like water in her palms.

  In an instant, her mind transported to her memories earlier in their day, when William told them about where his dad was today. The meeting in Geneva. And swiftly, her memories of the day-long holiday were suddenly unlocked and the pieces fell into their places.

  "Today is the ADM." Cyan remembered. "The Annual Director's Meeting. All the Directors from all the SSU branches meet today for a yearly debrief."

  Evan remained silent while Cyan figured it out.

  "Nathan told us the Directors wanted to see him today." Cyan put together. "But if they are all in Geneva..."

  She didn't want to finish that sentence. That would only make Nathan's actions real and true. And she didn't want to think that he was insane to do anything insanely stupid.

  But he was already doing something insanely stupid by lying about his whereabouts. Either he knew what he was doing or he was genuinely unaware that his lie to visit the Directors today clashed with the fact that they weren't in the country.

  "He wouldn't ever sabotage this case." Evan defended.

  "I don't want to believe he is." Cyan said.

  "I think he is trying to solve it. But there is a force stronger than our mandate that is pushing him to crack it no matter the cost." Evan said. "Until we find out what that is, no one can know."

  Before Evan finished his sentence, the opaque diner door swung open and a flustered William walked through, swiping his hands together due to the freezing weather.

  "Know what?" he asked as he sat himself down on his side of the booth, next to Evan.

  Cyan and Evan were quiet for a minute. They couldn't tell William their findings because that would distract him and their other teammates that he would've told from their main operation.

  "Jordan has been sneaking tequila shots into his room in the middle of the night." Evan blurted.

  "What?" William gawked. "The footsteps I hear in the middle of the night are his? I don't have a sleeping schedule anymore because of him?"

  "What? Jay?" Cyan gasped with sufficient amount of exaggeration to make Evan's lie believable.

  "Uhm, yeah." Evan replied.

  "It's about time something is done about it." William suggested firmly. "We can't have a drunkard and a sleep-disturber on this team."

  "Well, uhm, what is your plan?" Evan asked curiously.

  "Do you know where he keeps his stash? We could just take it all out and throw it all away." William said.

  "Probably in a secret compartment." Cyan chortled. "I don't think you'll ever find it."

  Cyan's words left William stunned and breathless for a minute. His small eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed downwards, deep in thought. Cyan wasn't sure what she had said that provoked William to thought but she instantly regretted she did. She understood that if William took Evan's lie too seriously, peace would only be a term they knew only the definition of and so, Cyan urged Evan with her eyes to do something before William came up with a destructive decision to confront Jay about the alcohol shots he didn't have.

  "Say that again." William instructed.

  "Say what?" Cyan responded confusedly. "That you'll never find Jay's stash?"

  "No." William mumbled. "About the secret comp-"

  Without warning, William took out a small knife from his denim pocket, stood up and stabbed the leather cushion he was sitting on with Evan. With it, he tore the cotton right out their booth seat.

  "Dude!" Evan yelled. "What the hell? I'm still sitting here!"

  "Move, then!" William yelled back.

  Evan, annoyed, pushed past William and went to stand near Cyan's side of the booth.

  "Man, stop! You can't go ripping out every chair that irritates you just because it's not soft enough!" Evan reprimanded.

  William didn't reply to that. Instead, he continued vandalising the seat and when he removed all the cotton out of it, he threw his knife onto the table. He stepped out of the booth and knelt on its right side, analysing it profusely. He put his hands underneath the red seat, hands moving aggressively, feeling for something. Almost immediately, his hands stopped and he looked towards Cyan and Evan with his eyeballs halfway out of their sockets. He began to feel again and stopped once more.

  He stood up again and knelt in front of the seat. He put both his hands on either side of the booth and pushed it backwards.

  The seat moved.

  William then pulled it back towards him and pushed it upwards. The upper cushion was separated from the wood that stabilized it and within the seat, was an empty space, similar to a box.

  Cyan exchanged stupefied stares with the two boys. Evan walked toward the box seat, kicking all the cotton out of his way with Cyan following closely behind.

  "How did you-?" Evan asked.

  "My friend and I used to hide each other's game buddies in such chairs back in France." William explained. "When Cyan said the words "secret compartment", it unlocked a memory."

  Cyan took a look inside the seat that was also a box. She didn't know what she was expecting to find but she knew she wanted to see more than an empty container. There was nothing in it except a small piece of tattered paper.

  "Come closer." William instructed.

  Cyan listened and dropped her height to kneel next to him while Evan bent his knees to see more clearly. William pointed to a large marking in the centre of the box that Cyan hadn't seen when she was still standing.

  "Marking." he noted.

  Markings were carved all around the chest with different drawings, just like a vandalised toilet door. But Cyan's eyes rested on the large marking that William's finger pointed at.

  "TS+GC+CJ." William read.

  "What is that supposed to mean?" Cyan asked.

  "Initials." Evan answered. "What's that?"

  Evan asked his question referring to the piece of paper that Cyan had noticed earlier.

  She picked it up. It was torn and tattered so she willed her fingers to handle it delicately. Opening it, she noticed that it was indeed a photograph, worn out by the years of entrapment. A photograph of three young, handsome boys, who sat in the very booth that they had destroyed, smiling at the camera. The boy at the left was the only one who wasn't smiling because his attention was captured by his two friends, eyes full love and affection.

  Cyan held the photo up close to her eyes.

  "Are these the boys that owned the diner?" Cyan asked.

  "That's the only explanation that makes sense." William replied.

  "Well, these boys look very familiar." Cyan deduced.

  "Let me see that." Evan said as he took the photograph from Cyan.

  Within seconds of having the photograph, he developed the same expression William had before he took out the knife from his pocket.

  "I don't know if I'm-I'm seeing right." Evan stammered in a low voice.

  William registered Evan's voice and remained silent. Cyan could tell that he was nervous about what Evan was about to say just as she was.

  "The boy on the right," Evan pointed. "That's Director Swat, isn't it?"

  "What?" William exclaimed.

  He snatched the photograph from Evan and tried to match the resemblance from the pre-existing forty-year-old Director that was engraved in his brain. He examined the photograph as if he was going over answers for a spot test.

  "You've got to be kidding me." he whispered.

  Cyan took the picture from William to see for herself. She thoroughly scanned the boy at the right.

  It was Director Thomas Swat. One of the most important figures on their Special Services Organisation Director's board. Unlike all the Directors who were difficult to approach, he was always the easiest. Time was the one thing that he gave freely to all the soldiers that sought him, making him the Divisions' favourite official. It was strange seeing him again, especially 20 years younger on a worn photograph, underneath a red, leather seat. Confusion was beyond what Cyan's mind was experiencing.

  She switched her attention to the next boy who was in the middle. His eyes were bright and his straight teeth were out on full display. She immediately recognized who he was. It was the same smile that she saw on the photograph that Dave showed her back when they were still at Retro Café in Prague. These were the same pearly whites that she had seen two days ago.

  "It is him." Cyan surmised quietly.

  "Whoa. I can't believe that that is Director Swat." Evan breathed.

  "No. I mean, yes. The boy to the left is Director Swat." Cyan blubbered. "But the boy in the middle. I recognize him. That's Minister Clement James."

  Stunned to silence by the revelation, the only noise Cyan could hear was the sound of the busy roads outside. The two boys beside her couldn't form the words to accurately respond to what had been discovered.

  "So, the boy on the far left is-" Evan began.

  "TS+GC+CJ." William repeated. "GC."

  "The boy on the far left is...George Campbell?" Evan asked incredulously.

  "It looks that way." William responded.

  "They were all friends?" Evan asked.

  "Are they still?" William asked.

  "Considering that George had Clement's son abducted, I'd express a hard no." Evan responded.

  Cyan huffed.

  "Then what happened between them?’’