Chapter Text
WISE Berlint Station, Safehouse D, 2000 hours
“Good morning…or should I say, good evening, Agent Twilight.”
“Apologies for the delay, Handler. I was buying Christmas presents for my daughter. What’s up?”
Sylvia Sherwood, Twilight’s operations handler, regarded him with what seemed to be a combination of pity and regret. In front of her, Twilight stood as he always had. Earnest, prepared for whatever mission she might throw at him. The fluorescent yellow lightbulbs of her underground office swung precariously overhead. Stone-cold concrete encased them, accentuated by a set of steel cabinets. Following a moment of pause, she set down a manila folder on her desk, marked with big red words: CLASSIFIED.
“We’ve received distressing news of a potential attack by a rogue terror cell of Ostanian ultranationalists. This is a top-priority case.”
Twilight nodded. “What kind of ultranationalists? Like the attempted bombers?”
“Those were radical students with hardly any competence or skill. The ones we are dealing with now are professionals, trained killers. You can take a look for yourself.” Sylvia gestured to the folder.
Twilight set his hat on the table and opened up the folder. He scanned the contents, memorizing their names and faces. Some of them he already recognized as Ostanian extremists. Cain Adler, ex-paratrooper, discharged for indiscriminate killing. Albert Muller, former combat engineer, discharged for assaulting an officer. Anna Kopteva, former Ostanian intelligence, fired due to inciting violent protests.
“These are some very bad people,” he said to Sylvia.
She nodded. “And the list goes on.”
“So what is the nature of the attack?”
Sylvia removed her glasses. “This is why I called you here, Twilight. The people they’re targeting…are your family.”
The folder dropped to the ground. Sylvia pursed her lips. She should have expected this to happen. Even the hardiest spies crack. Spend too long undercover, and you start to become who you’re pretending to be. She had figured that out the hard way.
Twilight coughed into his hand, attempting to regain his composure. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly,” he said.
“The ultranationalists have identified that you are in Berlint and plan to take you out. While they don’t know much yet, we’ve been tracking their communications. It will only be a matter of time before they tie the infamous Twilight to Loid Forger. And when they do, they plan on taking your family as leverage.”
Twilight’s brain blasted into overdrive. He thought about their home. Had he been followed? Was it possible that Anya could be followed? Yor was capable of protecting herself and Anya, but these were professionals. Everything had to be done to protect them.
Sylvia noticed his worried face. “I’ve never known you to lose your cool like this.”
Twilight narrowed his eyes. Even through his mask of emotions, Sylvia could see the fire underneath. “What are your orders?” he asked in a low voice.
Sylvia stood up, putting her wide-brim hat on. “Return home,” she said. “And stay frosty. Exercise more caution while running your surveillance detection routes. We will call the moment there is an update.”
Twilight nodded and reached for his own hat. As he affixed it to his head, his mind continued to race, formulating a thousand scenarios of what could happen. Few of them were good.
He turned for the door. Just as he grasped the handle, Sylvia called out, “And Twilight!”
He glanced back at her, the entire room spanning the distance between them. Sylvia had only hardened resolve in her gaze as she looked at him. “Never forget, you are not a real family. When it comes down to it, your mission comes before they do. And if that means putting yourself above your family, then that is what you must do. There are no attachments in this line of work. We sacrificed that a long time ago.”
Twilight’s eyes shifted to the ground. There was a millisecond of hesitation, then he nodded. “Good day, Handler,” he said. Within seconds, he left the safehouse and disappeared into the snowy streets of Berlint, like a shadow in the night.
Sylvia sat back down, exhausted from the day. She twirled a strand of scarlet hair with her finger. What will I do with him ? she thought. Then she sighed. Oh, to have a family. She couldn’t blame him for feeling that way. She just hoped that he would make the right call.