Bero hadn’t moved from his spot in the corner of the room. The masked men in black ignored him as they began to tear apart Molovni’s apartment. They pulled open drawers and dumped all the contents into yellow evidence sacks. They knocked on the walls and floor for hidden compartments, looked under and behind the furniture, and even took the garbage can. They paid special attention to the man’s desk; Bero saw them place his satchel of papers, an answering machine, and a small stack of unopened mail in a special box. The bottles in the bathroom medicine cabinet were examined, photographed, and likewise gathered and carried out. The few words that the soldiers exchanged with each other were in Espenian.
Galo and Berglund walked into the room, dressed in dark civilian clothes, but armed and officious. Berglund looked around at the dismantled apartment with satisfaction and began to speak to one of the soldiers. The man who had been shot in the chest, who would be dead had he not been wearing an armored vest, managed to get to his feet with the combined support of two comrades and was helped from the scene. Bero didn’t realize that the radio on the table was still playing until one of the Espenian operatives turned it off, unplugged it, and carried it away along with the rest of Vastik eya Molovni’s belongings.
Galo walked over to Bero in the corner and shook his head with unsurprised disappointment. “You should’ve told us everything, Catfish. You didn’t need to be in here.” He offered Bero a hand up.
Bero stared at the hand without taking it. “You . . . followed me here?” he shouted.
Galo said, “Did you think we wouldn’t have you under surveillance? It’s a damned good thing we did. As undependable of an asset as you are, thanks to you, we have one of the nekolva in our custody, along with evidence that he was involved in inciting revolution on behalf of the Ygutanian government.” Galo surveyed the nearly empty wrecked room with the pleased expression of a leopard licking clean bones. “We might finally crack open the secrets of the Ygutanian military program.”
Bero got to his feet. “What about Ema? You were going to follow her. Where is she?”
Galo shook his head. “Sad to say, she was inside the KJA building when it collapsed.”
“You fucking spennies, you didn’t try to stop the great strike of the clanless at all. You just wanted Molovni. You knew she was going to be killed.” Bero’s hands were clenched and he was shouting again.
The Keko-Espenian man eyed Bero severely. “Right now, the ROE Navy is circling the waters around Gosha Island. With any luck, we’ll find and capture the Ygutanian vessel waiting to help Molovni escape. The loss of life from the terrorist attack on the KJA building this afternoon was tragic. But if we’d intervened to prevent the bombing, it would’ve instantly tipped off Molovni and his superiors. The stakes were too high. The assets and information we’ve seized from our enemies today might save thousands or even millions of lives.”
“Spenny lives,” Bero spat.
“We tried to get word to our Kekonese allies before the bombing, but I’m afraid it wasn’t successful.” Galo squinted at Bero incredulously. “You joined the Clanless Future Movement to take down the clans. You worked for us to earn money on the side. You’ve accomplished both and come out alive. What are you upset about? That the girl sacrificed herself for a cause when you were finally getting pussy? Or finding out that you’re not as clever as you think you are? You were manipulated, sure. But what did you expect?”
Ema had given him this address, not so he could escape with her, but to betray Molovni. Just because I hate the clans doesn’t mean I have any love for the Ygutanians. Those had been her words. She’d wanted to bring down the clans, but would not hand the victory to the foreign agent and his masters. Ema must’ve suspected Bero was a spy, or she’d simply calculated that he would sell the information.
And now she was dead, dead for nothing, just like those dumb fucks Cheeky and Mudt and Soradiyo and so many others, and Bero was still alive. At one time, he would’ve been smug. He would’ve seen it as a sign that luck was on his side even when it toyed with him. Now he felt nothing.
“We’re done here.” Galo turned from Bero and began to walk away. “Let’s go, Catfish.”
Bero remained where he was. When Galo realized Bero was not following, he turned back around. “You don’t want to stay here,” the handler said. “We can get you out of Kekon, for your safety.”
Bero said, “I don’t want anything else from you spennies.”