BIA Ch. 121

Isaiah put a cigarette to his lips and took a long drag. But he couldn’t taste anything.

“Of course, the higher-ups haven’t thought of connecting this to you. They know Bran pays special attention to you, but they believe it’s because you’re from the same facility. Plus, a slight sense of moral responsibility. So they think the reason for Bran’s sudden change in attitude is because he’s conscious of Chester. Because someone who was completely off the radar suddenly started making his presence known through crude methods. On top of that, Cedric not only stands by but also seems to be subtly backing him, so it’s understandable they’d be anxious.”

It was the first moment a snag had occurred in the plan that had been proceeding as smoothly as a sailboat with a favorable wind. From the FBI’s perspective, it was the moment Bran’s position as successor was threatened, and from Bran’s perspective… what kind of moment had it been? That instant he discovered himself next to Chester.

“But hey, it doesn’t matter.”

Isaiah flicked the cigarette ash into the ashtray and spoke.

“No matter how he acts out, it’s just Bran. He’ll handle it himself.”

“Will he really?”

Isaiah paused, bringing the cigarette to his mouth, and looked at Mickey. Mickey looked back at Isaiah. He fidgeted constantly with his clasped hands as he spoke.

“Before being assigned to this project, my image of Bran Wiseman was… like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. Although he’s called a gentleman villain now, a villain is still a villain. I thought he could do anything at any time. Especially since Bran Wiseman, true to his name, is a smart man who knows how to evade the law. In a way, I considered him more dangerous than Rosetti, the head of the Five Families.”

“But it turned out he was an ally.”

“Yes. So at first, I thought it was a huge relief. That Bran Wiseman was one of us. I believed there was nothing left to worry about.”

“At first?”

Mickey nodded at Isaiah’s question.

“It must have been the seventh day after I was assigned to the project. When I heard the negotiation with Martino fell through because of your personal safety issue, I knew I was wrong.”

“..…”

“Because Bran Wiseman being affiliated with the FBI meant he knew the FBI well.”

That must have been around the time he first went to the Taten Building with Bran. He had mentioned going to Virginia to get bullets that day. Bran must have planned the escort operation as soon as he heard it.

“Bran argued that since you requested our cooperation first, prioritizing your safety was the right thing to do. Superficially, there’s nothing wrong with that statement. But if you know the reality of the FBI, there’s no bigger bullshit. Since when was the FBI such a humanitarian group?”

Moreover, it was the FBI that had been working behind the scenes for over a decade to take control of an organization, directly and indirectly aiding the various crimes that organization committed. Not to mention the number of lives sacrificed in the process. Yet, with their goal in sight, they made the decision to retreat ten, twenty steps just to save one person. Solely based on Bran’s arbitrary decision.

“Yet, seeing Edgar Derby back down without a word, I had a gut feeling. That Bran held some weakness over him.”

Isaiah silently chewed on the cigarette filter. Now, beyond tasting nothing, the cigarette emitted a bitter smell that was nauseating.

“No, Bran’s very existence is a weakness for Edgar Derby. Edgar Derby is staking everything on being appointed the Eloy Branch Chief next year. But what if Bran were to expose the RAC project? It’s the end. Whether it was an undercover operation or whatever, the public will never forgive the fact that the FBI leaked information that could help a Mafia organization commit crimes.”

“There’s no way Bran would expose that.”

Finally, Isaiah stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray.

“Right now, Edgar Derby is afraid of being killed even by a falling raindrop. That’s the kind of atmosphere where he has to lie low.”

Mickey immediately retorted. Isaiah couldn’t bring himself to say, ‘No way.’ In the civil service world, the rank one held upon retirement was paramount. Because they would be called by that rank until death. Even after being buried in the grave.

“The problem is, this is just the beginning.”

Seeing your relationship with Bran today, I became certain. Mickey said in a somber voice.

“If Bran ends up giving Lombard to Martino, he’ll have no choice but to push things unreasonably, even just to recover it. The Mafia’s most reliable sources of money are drugs and prostitution, so he’ll probably focus there. Clashing with the FBI in the process will be unavoidable.”

Isaiah had anticipated this much. However, what Mickey worried about was what came next.

“No matter how hard a rock is, it’s bound to break if struck repeatedly.”

“Nonsense.”

Isaiah stated firmly.

“How can you be so sure?”

“I know Bran.”

Standing up from the bed, Isaiah took off the t-shirt he was wearing. Mickey flinched for a moment, then spoke in a nonchalant tone.

“You’re not talking about the orphanage days, surely.”

“What if I am.”

Isaiah followed the t-shirt by taking off his pants.

“Oh, come on.”

Mickey finally let out a whining sound.

“Why are you suddenly doing this?”

“What do you mean, ‘suddenly why’?”

Isaiah stripped off his underwear right there. Then, grabbing the back of Mickey’s neck as he tried to turn away, he dragged him to the bathroom. Struggling, Mickey was dragged into the bathroom and only after being forcibly seated on the toilet did he look up with a flustered face.

“Sit here while I shower.”

“Ah.”

“Don’t get any funny ideas.”

Isaiah spat out briefly and entered the shower booth. Mickey, looking utterly exasperated, repeatedly wiped his face with his palms, then, as if trying to calm himself, said, “…Anyway,” continuing the conversation from the bedroom.

“The Bran you knew doesn’t exist anymore. Wasn’t he a middle schooler? Everyone’s innocent at that age.”

“He was a high school student.”

Mickey let out a groan.

“And in that facility, there were tons of guys who were stealing and even doing drugs before even finishing middle school.”

“…You’re not talking about yourself, are you?”

“There were many besides me.”

Isaiah turned the shower lever. Soon, a cool stream of water poured from the showerhead. As soon as the water became lukewarm, Isaiah started soaking himself from the top of his head.

“Because it was a place where children abandoned by their parents for various reasons gathered. It wouldn’t be strange whatever they did while wandering around here and there.”

But Bran wasn’t like that. At least, not as far as Isaiah knew. Being handed over immediately after his father’s death, having no time for delinquency, wasn’t an excuse. He was the son of a gangster. He himself knew it too. Exposed to crime from birth, he had many opportunities to encounter them earlier than anyone.

“Even his hometown was a poor fishing village. Yet he alone was an upright, smart model student. To the extent that the neighbor lady would entrust her young son to him while she worked.”

It wasn’t much different during his time at the facility. There, he followed almost the same schedule as the brothers. After school finished, he would return straight to the facility and check the prayer transcriptions of the younger children, and after dinner, he used to study late in the dorms. On Sundays, he served as an altar boy at morning and evening mass, and during the brief break at lunchtime, he played ball with the children in the yard. Or showed the dorms to sponsors visiting the facility.

“Did such a high school student really exist…?”

And that was Bran Wiseman? That Bran Wiseman? Mickey asked again and again, as if unable to believe it.

“Yeah.”

Isaiah replied while lathering shampoo into his wet hair.

“Everyone liked Bran.”

The children, of course, and the brothers and sisters too. Anyone who knew Bran from that time probably felt the same.

“I thought he might become a priest.”

He didn’t add that it was because the altar boy attire suited him well. If he had said that much, it felt like Mickey would kick open the bathroom door and storm out.