BIA Ch. 120

Isaiah was a little taken aback. Looking beside him, Mickey was also frozen with a bewildered expression.

“Why all of a sudden?”

Isaiah asked, trying hard to sound nonchalant.

「Just because. I was curious about my subordinate’s face.」

“Since when was the FBI your subordinate?”

He deliberately threw Bran’s words back at him, trying to buy time, but it was useless.

「Why are you dragging this out?」

“What am I dragging out?”

「Is there some reason you can’t show me? Why, are you naked perhaps?」

“Crazy bastard. Don’t say such ridiculous things.”

Bran knew perfectly well what got under his skin the most.

「Then show me. There’s no reason you can’t, right?」

“……Wait.”

Eventually, Isaiah called out to Mickey, who was sitting on the adjacent bed.

“Yes!”

Mickey answered loudly and scrambled off the bed. Isaiah handed over the smartphone with one hand, while making a throat-slitting gesture with the other. It meant he wouldn’t let it slide if Mickey said anything foolish. Mickey swallowed dryly and took the smartphone with both hands.

「Hey, Maxiboy.」

Bran’s voice came from the smartphone.

「This is the first time we’re seeing each other’s faces, isn’t it?」

“Yes, that’s right.”

Mickey replied, standing rigidly at attention.

「Right. You look younger than in your photo.」

Bran said in an amused voice. The man’s voice coming through the speaker sounded lower and deeper than usual.

「Sorry about what happened with Billy.」

“Yes……”

Mickey’s expression immediately clouded over.

「Does HQ know?」

“No, not yet……”

「Why not?」

Mickey’s gaze naturally drifted towards Isaiah’s face. But when his eyes met Isaiah’s, he quickly looked away and mumbled.

“Well, uh, we came straight here, so I haven’t reported it yet. I was just about to contact them……”

「I’ll do it.」

Bran cut Mickey off.

「I have a rough idea of the situation. There’ll be less nagging from the old folks if I report it rather than you.」

It was strange. Although usually hidden by his smooth, low voice and witty way of speaking, Isaiah had thought Bran’s usual manner of speech was exactly that of a mafioso. But hearing him speak like this now, he sounded just like an FBI agent.

What exactly was the difference? Was it because he sounded less languid than usual? Isaiah was unconsciously holding his breath, listening intently to their conversation (more accurately, to Bran’s voice).

「By the way, what’s with those clothes?」

“Ah, this is.”

Mickey mumbled, looking down at the bomb vest. Isaiah quickly snatched the smartphone from Mickey’s hand.

“I gave it to him. Virginia is colder than Eloy.”

「It looked a bit small.」

“Because it’s my clothing.”

Bran hummed, one corner of his mouth lifting. Just as Isaiah was debating whether to say they should hang up, Bran suddenly called out, 「Isaiah.」 And then.

「Don’t cheat on me.」

Caught completely off guard, Isaiah yelled in exasperation.

“What nonsense are you talking about!”

「Somehow, he seems like your type.」

“Stop talking bullshit, seriously.”

「Right, he’s four years younger than you. Or is it three?」

“He’s five years younger.”

「Even more dangerous then.」

“No, dangerous or not, I… Forget it, I’m hanging up.”

Isaiah unilaterally announced it and ended the call. He worried Bran might call back, but thankfully, that didn’t happen. Instead, a message arrived.

「Hope you have a good night」

Isaiah immediately sent a reply.

「Not likely, thanks to you」

Sighing, he tossed his phone aside and his eyes met Mickey’s, who was still standing beside the bed. Mickey asked as if he had been waiting.

“Is he perhaps your boyfriend…?”

“Why, so you can write it in your report?”

Isaiah rummaged through the pocket of his discarded jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Mickey sighed and slumped onto the bed.

“I was wondering why Bran makes things so difficult.”

His expression showed he finally understood. Isaiah didn’t respond. Mickey opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it, repeated this a few times, then finally spoke as if he’d made up his mind.

“But I don’t think it’s a very good thing.”

“You mean it’s not good for Bran?”

“Well, what I mean is……”

“It’s fine. I think so too.”

Isaiah cut Mickey off mid-sentence. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he leaned back against the headboard cushion and lit it. He took a long drag, then exhaled just as slowly.

“What’s Bran’s reputation within the FBI?”

“Are you asking about his reputation as an FBI agent?”

“Yes.”

Mickey paused, looking thoughtful, then spoke.

“I officially passed the FBI exam when I was twenty-three. I was the youngest successful candidate after the FBI’s application requirements were tightened.”

“Oh, impressive. Not that I give a damn.”

Flustered by Isaiah’s sarcasm, Mickey said, “No, please listen.”

“So, I was incredibly proud. But that’s the official record. I recently found out there was an unofficial youngest person to pass before me.”

Isaiah, cigarette still between his lips, narrowed his eyes slightly. It meant, ‘No way?’ Mickey nodded.

“It was Bran.”

A laugh mixed with cigarette smoke escaped Isaiah’s lips. This guy had a knack for build-up.

“I even heard he passed with the highest scores. Special recruits have shorter training periods, so the evaluation criteria are tougher, but he apparently received near-perfect scores in all categories. … Um, could you do something about your expression?”

Mickey suddenly frowned mid-sentence.

“What’s wrong with my expression?”

“It’s really unpleasant. You look like a parent hearing their child praised by a teacher.”

Isaiah felt needlessly awkward and pretended to adjust his cigarette, subtly covering his face with his hand. Mickey looked at Isaiah with disillusionment before continuing.

“Anyway, he’s naturally brilliant. He’s got guts and is skilled at bluffing too. In many ways, he was the perfect talent for undercover operations. He really rose through the ranks quickly, didn’t he? Naturally, people inside the Bureau were excited. I heard that when things were going really well, Edgar Derby was incredibly proud, saying this project would be the FBI’s greatest achievement.”

“The director in charge?”

“That too, but he was the one who originally planned the project. He was also the one who thought of recruiting Bran while he was still in high school.”

Isaiah recalled how Bran had abruptly left the facility before even graduating. Could that have been related to the FBI?

“Why Bran, specifically?”

“Because he’s Bennett Wiseman’s son.”

“There are tons of mafiosi’s children.”

At Isaiah’s words, Mickey blinked slowly.

“Bennett was an FBI agent.”

“……”

“You didn’t know?”

He hadn’t known. Bran had never mentioned anything like that. It wasn’t particularly strange. He hadn’t even mentioned he himself was FBI. Isaiah had figured it out first and brought it up first. Bran hadn’t denied it. That was about the extent of his stance.

“Anyway, that’s how it is.”

Mickey said, scratching his head.

“So, I understand it was easy to persuade Bran. He decided to follow the same path as his father.”

“I see.”

Isaiah murmured softly.

“By the way, if there was a time when things were going really well, does that mean they aren’t now?”

Mickey looked caught off guard. He blinked quickly a couple of times, then said, trying to sound composed.

“Well, when you’re running a long-term project like this, there are good times and bad times, isn’t that how it goes?”

Isaiah didn’t say anything. He just stared intently at Mickey’s face and smoked his cigarette. Mickey avoided Isaiah’s gaze, his eyes darting around, before finally sighing and raising both hands in surrender.

“Please promise you won’t tell Bran.”

“I promise.”

“Really.”

“I said I would.”

Mickey looked openly unconvinced but reluctantly began to speak.

“As I might have mentioned earlier, Bran Wiseman wasn’t originally an easy person to control.”

“Because he’s so full of himself.”

“That’s right. Still, since he understood the project’s purpose well, he used to handle things through consultation with superiors, more or less. More accurately, he resolved things through private meetings with Edgar Derby, but anyway……”

“He started acting more and more openly on his own authority?”

Mickey didn’t answer. This low-ranking agent seemed incapable of hiding things. Was it due to a lack of field experience? Or did he simply have no intention of hiding it in the first place?

Isaiah asked, tapping his cigarette ash into an ashtray.

“Since when, exactly?”

Mickey slowly clasped his hands together. Then, looking down at his fingertips, he said.

“It started when Chester drove Martino’s gang out of his territory.”

“……”

“In other words, it started when you appeared.”