The End

After being extracted from the rubble of the building, I brushed myself off, and got promptly hit by a car.

I woke up to the rhythmic beeping of an EKG machine. I couldn’t open my eyes as hard as I tried. I heard a here you go, as a nurse removed the tape that was keeping my eyes shut. My eyes slowly came into focus as I saw the face of my CO swim into view above me. I tried to open my mouth to speak but soon realized I couldn’t for the mask covering my face.

“Relax Leclerc,” my CO said, “you got hit by a car with a massive brush bar bumper on it that destroyed your face.” I initially was happy to be alive with that but immediately turned suspicious as I had never seen such a vehicle around Pointe Place. I racked my head long and hard as I could with my apparently broken skull and intense concussion. I stopped as I came across a thought so hideous I could only widen my eyes. I reached up with my hands to throttle my CO as I realized that the company was the only people around with brush bars on their trucks however, I was stopped short as my arms were strapped to my body. I went to use my legs but those were strapped as well.

“Ah. I see you’ve come to a pretty shocking realization. Well, let me tell you that we can’t have you bumbling around anymore. Mr. Evans was quite the hindrance as he was just catching on to our drug operation.” I stopped struggling in surprise to listen to what my now ex CO (I’m just gonna go ahead and assume I’m fired at this point)  was saying.

“See, this private security stuff doesn’t pay too well. However, I pretty soon realized that I had all the infrastructure necessary to be able to carry out a relatively successful drug operation. With all the hired guns and intelligence we have, I was able to collaborate with the Sinaloa Cartel to up the import of cocaine into the US. However, Mr. Evans was snooping around a little too much, just as you have been into the death of Mr. Evans. And now, you will die like him.”

I saw the nurse take a little vial and put into my IV bag, and that’s the last thing I ever saw.

-The next day’s news-

… The body of 38-year-old Pierre Leclerc was found in the parking garage next to Pointe Place, police right now are assuming this is a hit and run. Head detective Ian Coleman is welcoming any information leading to an arrest. This is the second time this week that a murder has occurred in that parking garage...

Storms of change

I awoke with a flash the night after the firefight. The wind outside was howling with a magnitude that I hadn't seen in a long time. Seeing this, I threw off the sheets, and ran to my survival kit. Grabbing this, I then threw my laptop and gun into my floor mounted safe, knowing that the safe would survive anything that happened to it. Having done this, I ran for the basement and the shelter I had built there.



I awoke in a tomb.
However, I was too tired to really care.

I awoke for the second time, this time I saw a red light. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I saw my wall mounted digital clock reading 10:15. I then saw the oxygen level meter next to it reading green. I pushed myself upright and the memories flooded back. I had run down into what used to be a coal cellar of the building. However, call me paranoid, I had turned it into a nuclear bunker. I rushed into the bunker and had just turned the lock on the door shut right as the building collapsed around me. At this revelation, I was glad my career and life hadn't ended early. I then got up and proceeded to light the torches that I had scattered around the room. For all the high tech equipment, I opted for fire light due to a generator being unrealistic. I then looked out of the bunker window and saw some light. Seeing this, I realized that the whole building had collapsed around me. I couldn't get a signal with my phone as I had lead lined the bunker but, I had a built-in HAM radio in the wall. I then sent a signal out to the office and emergency services, "Mayday, mayday, this Pierre Leclerc, I am trapped in my bunker under the Pointe Place apartment building..."

A development and a close encounter

Last night, I drank with Coco until late. I think it was about 2:30 am when I finally left the bar. However, while she drank like a fish, I realized that she knew nothing about the death of Mr. Evans outside of what I had already found out. After that fruitless encounter, I went back to my apartment to mull over the situation. While I walked home, it occurred to me that I had not yet looked over the scene of the crime yet myself. I cursed myself with my carelessness and changed my direction to head to the parking deck. When I arrived at the parking deck, it was pitch black and eerie feeling, the colorful graffiti on the side of the building thrown into sharp relief with the street light's bright glare. However, once I entered the dark parking deck, I found that no lights were operational on the ground floor. I then started up the staircase, my footsteps echoing up the staircase. However, once I got to the second floor, I heard movement on the floor above, where the crime scene was still blocked off. Knowing that the police had long left for the night, I drew my modified Heckler & Koch USP compact tactical chambered in .45 ACP and flicked on the attached flashlight. I then proceeded up the final flight of stairs, my gun stretched out in front of me, sweeping the stairs before I crossed them. I then reached the final door before the 3rd floor. I stopped just before opening the door and thumbed off the safety. I then pushed open the door slowly and immediately shrunk back as a series of shots pinged off the steel door. I immediately recognized the signature chatter of a full-auto AK-47 and shrank back. At this moment, I realized that this simple late night investigation had turned into a fight for my life. I took a second, waited for the automatic fire to stop, flicked off my flashlight, and ran back down the stairs to the second floor. I then busted through the second-floor door, sprinting across the asphalt, in an attempt to get a flanking angle on the shooters without letting them know. I ran up the ramp to the third floor, and took cover, crouching behind what I assumed was the van the shooter(s?) had come in. I then stopped, collected my breathing and thoughts, envisioning in my head where the shots had been coming from and what position I would need to be in to neutralize the threat. I then straightened, reestablished my stance, and pivoted around the back corner of the van to get a visual on the shooters. All I could really see was the flashlights duck taped to the end of their AKs.
"Amateurs" I muttered to myself as I sighted my pistol up at the first of two dark masses silhouetted in the night. I pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession. A perfect center mass double tap. I then quickly pivoted to the next shooter, my ears still ringing from the first shots and dropped him perfectly as well. Having accomplished this feat of marksmanship, I proceeded to immediately call my commanding officer.
"Yes Leclerc"
"Sir, I've just been in a firefight. I went to the parking deck to look over the crime scene one more time and was attacked by 2 men with AK-47s. Full auto modified ones two. However, I had no choice but to eliminate them. They were amateurs. I'm searching them right now for any signs of identification or reason they were here tonight."
"Jesus Leclerc you don't half stir up trouble. I'll send over the local police units, you stay put."
"Bon. Can do."
"Leclerc, try not to die okay?'
"Oui monsieur." He hung up. I then waited for about 3-4 minutes for the local officers to arrive. While doing so, I continued to search the bodies. On the second body, I found a flash drive. However, the flash drive looked like one of the highly encoded versions that we used for critical mission intelligence at the FFL. Looking at that flash drive, I realized I would not have the tools necessary to break into such a heavily encoded device. However, I know someone who does have the skills. I waited for the police to arrive, gave my statement, and since I was technically in government service and my CO had already talked to the police, I was allowed to go home. I walked in the door, smelling acrid from the amount of gunpowder. I poured a glass of whiskey and swallowed hard. That was the one benefit of living in the US, an abundance of hard liquor. I then sat down at my computer and began to write,


"Mr. Blasi,


I am emailing you to coordinate the investigation into Mr. Evans' death. I believe that Mr. Evans' was killed over financial issues. However, I discovered on his body a flash drive with encrypted files. If you could please take a look at these, it would be greatly appreciated.


Merci,
Leclerc"

I was guessing on the financial issues, as people only have masked men with AKs show up for two reasons. Money and drugs. Or radical terrorism. But I'm guessing Mr. Evans wasn't the latter. But who knows at this point. Within the hour, I got a response,

"Will do sir. Also, what am I receiving in return for my work? How about a little info on my father's whereabouts (I haven't seen him since I was a little boy in Switzerland)."

Man what a greedy little bastard. But I figured that's what I get for working with hackers.

"I'll definitely see what I can do."

The game begins

I finally made it into work after that crazy encounter at the parking garage. However, the death of Mr. Evans weighted heavily on my mind. As I went about the motions of the day, I thought to send out an inquiry to the local police department requesting the official report. However, I had to write and report my own account of that situation to our HR department. Contrary to your normal HR department, this department concerned itself chiefly with the well being and safety of agents and analysts, such as myself. Since this was not my first time dealing with a body count, I went through the motions without much thought. However, as I went through the motions, I realized that I had never had to deal with a body count since Prague in '04 and never had I had to deal with someone dying this close to home. With these thoughts swimming through my head, I proceeded through my day at work. Not much interesting was coming through. I finished up my after action report from the document transfer in Poland and decided it was time to head home. However, right as I was packing up my things to leave, a HR representative came by,
"Leclerc, we got your report on the death of your neighbor. We encourage you to investigate. However, if things become heated, we are relocating you. So, be discreet. We are working with the police to secure the report."
"Merci Evans. I shall proceed accordingly."
I took that as a sign to leave and left the desk. On my drive home, I considered how I was to investigate this mystery. Hmm, I thought, I shall start with this Coco woman. She appears to have been almost complacent in information for the murder.
I pulled into the parking lot, and gathered my nerves, as I do before every operation. I exited my car and decided to stake out in the coffee shop, which was on the main street. However, as I was on my way there, I spotted Coco leaving a park bench and heading towards the bar. Breaking every protocol in my head, I stopped for a second a took in the situation and started after Coco to the tiki bar. After all, I was only a friendly neighbour heading to the bar for a friendly conversation.
When I reached the bar, I sought out Coco and sat next to her
"Bad buisness about ze Mr. Evans no?'
"Yesh fer real"
"Were you two close?"
"Yea he was a friend"
"My deep condolences. Here, first round is on me."
It had been a while since I had really decided that it was a good idea to drink in large quantities, but tonight seemed to be as good as an opportunity as any. Besides, if anything went wrong, I had that comforting little weight tucked in on my right hip...

Quite the unusual morning

The day started like any other morning. I got a black cup of coffee, put some bread in the toaster, and settled down with a yogurt to listen to the news. However, my morning reverie was shattered by the lucid screaming of the crazy woman downstairs. I hadn't gotten to know her name yet, being rather new to the building. I missed the calm serenity of Toulouse, but the job offer for the intelligence consulting firm had been lucrative. Sometimes I missed my old job doing intelligence for the French Foreign Legion, but the pay in the private sector was just that much better. I was young and dumb, when I knocked on that door. It was a risky move, and I still have the scars to prove it.

I finished my yogurt, and by that time my toast was ready for consumption. At this point, NPR was relaying to me a fascinating story of an American business contracting out security services to Russian Nuclear sites. I was intrigued by this story and turned the radio up to drown out the unusual bustle downstairs. I sat down and began to eat. "... Booz Allen Hamilton has been one of the largest US based defense contracting and private security corporations of our time. They currently operate out of Virginia, but since new legislation passed in 2017, they have..." My morning news was again shattered by the cries from downstairs. "Merde", I thought, "that woman is crazy". At this point, I decided to go and see what was going on. However, as is habit, before I went downstairs, I buckled on my service weapon.

3 minutes later, I was out the door and downstairs. I came down the stairs in a measured manner, however my heart was racing. The woman downstairs had never screeched like that before. I reached the bottom and turned to see that the woman was gone. At that point, I decided that I had enough excitement for the morning. I looked down, realized that I was already ready for work, and decided to just go into work early this morning. I went out the front door, turned, and started up the car park ramp to my car. It was at that point when I saw all of the blue lights. My pulse quickened once more, as thoughts of worst-case scenarios filled my head. However, I was not prepared to be told by a police officer that Mr. Evans was found dead in the parking lot.

I had liked Mr. Evans. He was a quiet, but good man. I all of a sudden had the urge to smoke, even though I had quit years earlier. I asked the police man for one, and he obliged. As I took a long drag, I gathered my thoughts. I realized that at this point, there was nothing I could realistically do to help the police. However, I was determined to find out how this had happened. With that sense of determination still flowing, I climbed into my car and went off to my job at Academi.