DECEPTIVE REFUGE (part III)

Agent Edmund Mark waited for some seconds on the phone until the deep voice of the director of NSCC replied, "what is it Ed?" they talked for a while on the phone until the director said a quick "just do what you can Ed, debrief me in the morning" and hung up. After series of edition and developement on the video clip; the enhancement of the video resolution and the clipping of images by a microprocessor, agent Mark had located the position of the shooter and had ingeniously lifted boot prints from the point. People at the shopping plaza were questioned but no one saw something unusual, only a female trader who offered an unclear description of a priest who had blessed her rosary beads and hurriedly climbed to the third floor at the time of the assassination. On reaching his apartment, one of the drab buildings that filled the Golden City estate, agent Mark slumped his tired body on the couch. He lived alone, only visited from time to time by a girlfriend who thought he works in a bank until a week ago when an old friend came to stay with him after returning from a long trip overseas. Joseph had left for Germany to further his studies after their secondary school and now he is back and wants to spend a few days with his best friend. With a chilled bottle of water which he took from the refrigerator in one hand, he pulled out the contents of the brown envelope with his free hand and stared in all directions of the sitting-room to make sure he was alone. Joseph must've gone out, he thought as he removed a high-resolution print-out of a beady pair of eyeballs behind a black ski-mask, followed by a gray-scale print-out of shoe prints with its threadings clear. Still staring at the print-out with the ski-mask, his mind searched and wondered at the familiarity of the eyeballs which he dismissed as paranoia. But agent Mark's instincts had never failed him in his line of work and he had learned to obey them. As if an unseen force urges him forward, he started pacing around his house and within seconds, he found himself in the room he had given Joseph. Then something crossed his mind which could explain the paranoia he felt previously- Joseph might be in the wardrobe with an indian hemp since he had warned him about smoking in his house. So he walked to the closet and threw it open half expecting to see his friend absorbed in smoke but was greeted by a number of clothings. If it was sheer curiousity or divine providence that made him notice the uneven base of his friend's echolac box, Mark could not tell but he did not need a sooth-sayer to confirm an external hidden compartment in a box, he had used them on numerous missions to conceal small but deadly weapons. It took him fifteen seconds to loosen all the screws that held the compartment then he pulled out a duffel bag and reached inside. He smiled to himself as his hands felt a satchet of dry grass, "can Joseph ever quit smoking?" he muttered and made to withdraw his hand until he felt something else. He immediately spilled the contents on the floor and was taken aback by the sight as his brain tries to process the stimulus it received from the eyes. He blinked continuously to clear his vision hoping to wake up from a dream but what lay at his feet was real... too real to be a dream. Almost immediately, a phone on a table in an office kilometers away rang as a man in his early fifties with a gray blazer suit answered "you shouldn't be calling." "yes but we have a situation." came a younger voice, "he knows" the caller added in a shaky tone. A brief silence ensued as the man stiffened at the news. His face contorted as he paced the office scratching his bald-head. "i can contain the situation..." the caller was saying when the man cut him off "i told you but you would not...! he made to scream out his anger but controlled himself when he saw his secretary appear at the door. "do what you have to, remove him from the picture" he said in a whisper before he hung up.