BIA Ch. 127

“Bennett Wiseman.”

Isaiah answered, leaning his head against the car window.

“Because Bran wasn’t the first agent the FBI infiltrated into the Kalisz family. The fact that his father was there before Bran means someone else will likely be there after Bran too.”

It would probably continue like that. The Kalisz family was the only Irish mob among Eloy City’s major organizations, and compared to La Cosa Nostra, they were a relatively easier group to penetrate.

“And it was standard practice to include a spare in infiltration operations.”

When conducting such infiltration operations, one always had to consider the worst-case scenario. People often assumed the worst was the undercover agent’s identity being exposed, but they were wrong. The worst situation the operation team envisioned was the agent being completely turned by the other side and feeding false information back. In the former case, it ended with the sacrifice of one agent, but in the latter, the scale of damage could become uncontrollably large.

The contingency plan for that worst-case scenario was the spare. Literally, sending in one more auxiliary agent.

“Hey, spare? We call it a multiple.”

Samuel said, feigning offense.

“Multiple.”

Isaiah scoffed at the grandiose term. But it wasn’t entirely wrong. Normally, the spare helped the undercover agent establish themselves in enemy territory, creating a favorable environment, and in emergencies, they also served a surveillance role.

“Anyway, I heard this whole Queen Bee thing was a major project the FBI prepared for decades.”

“Not Queen Bee… RAC Project…” Mickey muttered softly beside him.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Isaiah clicked his tongue.

“They weren’t just going to infiltrate Bran and leave it at that. They planned to raise him to be the boss of the Kalisz family; it doesn’t make sense not to send in support personnel.”

“You can tell you’ve spent a long time dispatched.”

“But I didn’t know it was you.”

“You weren’t supposed to know.”

Just as Samuel let out a hearty laugh, the signal changed. Starting the car again, Samuel spoke.

“Believe it or not, before being deployed, I even took acting lessons separately from two Academy graduates. Changed everything from my way of speaking to my gait.”

Perhaps starting to relax, Samuel began to boast playfully. Mickey nodded with a serious face, saying, “Indeed.”

“Anyone can see you’re Mafia. No, not even Mafia, just a gangster. A punk, a thug with not a hint of intelligence.”

“Is that a compliment…?”

“What? Ah, yes. It means your acting is that perfect.”

“Right.”

Samuel smiled, pleased.

“Tricking the other guys isn’t the problem. It’s tricking Bran,”

“He knows.”

Isaiah cut Samuel off.

“What?”

Samuel asked, looking at Isaiah’s face in the rearview mirror. Isaiah lowered the car window and said.

“Bran knows. That you’re FBI.”

“What did you say?”

This time, Mickey and Samuel exclaimed simultaneously.

“What’s your basis for that?”

Samuel asked, so surprised he half-turned his body.

“Trying to get killed? Look ahead, you mole.”

Isaiah frowned.

“I have things to do tomorrow. If I die before then, I’ll kill you.”

“Crazy, what the hell is this?”

Samuel clicked his tongue, muttering that Isaiah seemed out of his mind.

“Anyway.”

Cutting it short, Isaiah rested his arm on the window frame and said.

“The first day I went to the Taten Building, Bran told you to take my phone and go up to the 22nd floor first.”

“That was because Chester was tracking the location.”

“Right. But if that was the only reason, we could have just gone up, left the phone on the 22nd floor, and come back down. But Bran specifically told you to take my phone, go up, and wait. Why? To quickly inform the FBI that I had betrayed Chester and decided to cooperate with him. That way, he could proceed with his plan.”

In the rearview mirror, Samuel’s eyes wavered significantly. But he quickly regained his composure and said.

“He might have just been too lazy to go up to the 22nd floor himself. Anyway, I’m the only person Bran trusts with that kind of task. Do you think I got this position for nothing?”

“Why would Bran, out of all his men, entrust such an important task specifically to you?”

“……”

“Huh? Why would someone like Bran, who doesn’t trust others and works alone, trust only you and share such a crucial detail?”

Samuel couldn’t say anything. Isaiah answered for him.

“Because he knew there was zero chance you’d side with Chester.”

Samuel’s expression in the rearview mirror hardened progressively. At first, he just looked taken aback, but gradually, he seemed to realize his mistake. Mickey also spoke with a worried look.

“Then, Samuel offering to take us to the airport was…”

“I think it was reading too much into it. You should have just waited until Bran pointed you out, like always.”

Samuel’s gaze deepened further. Maybe it was just a feeling, but the inside of the car felt quite chilly. Isaiah straightened the arm resting on the window frame and closed the window.

“Still, Samuel was always prone to showing off. Like he said, he chose his position well.”

“Hey, showing off…”

“It’s a compliment.”

He meant it. Though Samuel didn’t seem to take it that way at all.

“And Bran probably wouldn’t think I’d joined hands with the FBI either.”

Given his personality, Bran would never imagine Isaiah cooperating with the FBI; he’d sooner think Isaiah ditched the FBI to go after Chester alone. Coming to the church today was likely seen as a last-ditch effort to inform them that a new sniper had been hired by Chester to replace him, and to move both organizations’ members to somehow get them away from the sniper spot. Since he was with Mickey and in an official FBI car, on the surface, it would look like he was operating under FBI protection as instructed.

The problem was Samuel. Offering a ride to the airport could be excused, but if Bran found out they had arranged a separate meeting with Martino’s side…

“Samuel.”

At Isaiah’s call, Samuel looked up into the rearview mirror.

“Was your lawyer at the church earlier?”

“Hagan? He wasn’t. He doesn’t usually attend these kinds of gatherings.”

“Where is he now?”

“At this hour, he’d be at his home.”

Good. Isaiah pulled a pistol from his back pocket. Mickey and Samuel yelled simultaneously.

“Quiet.”

Isaiah frowned, emptying all the bullets from the pistol’s magazine. He put the removed bullets into a pocket of the caddy bag and handed the empty pistol to Samuel.

“Give this to that lawyer. And don’t you go to the negotiation today; send the lawyer instead.”

“Hagan?”

“Yeah. With just this, they should get the gist without a long explanation.”

“This is…”

Samuel muttered, taking the pistol with one hand. It was the same gun used to shoot Martino’s three men at the casino bar.

“It’s modified for KTW rounds. Since Tessio is holding such a grudge, he’ll surely know what kind of bullets killed his men.”

He probably realized Isaiah was a WD sniper in the first place because of those KTW rounds. Most of the pistol KTW rounds currently circulating were produced in-house by WD.

“That should be sufficient proof that you have me, so tell him to negotiate well. And now you go to Bran and stay by his side until tomorrow afternoon. Absolutely do not do anything suspicious.”

Samuel said nothing. More accurately, he looked like he didn’t know what to say. Isaiah deliberately punched the back of the driver’s seat and spoke as if berating him.

“But no matter what, make sure the back door is unusable tomorrow. After I’ve set the stage this much, you should at least do that much, shouldn’t you?”

“Ah, alright.”

Samuel replied, putting the pistol into his jacket pocket. Mickey asked from the side with a puzzled look.

“But is there really a reason to seal off the back door like that? Kestrel decided not to shoot anyway, right?”

“You never know. If Chester puts just two guards in that room, Kestrel might have no choice but to fire a few shots. In the process, Bran’s arm or leg could get hit.”

“Then should we go through the front door?”

To Samuel’s mumble, Isaiah stated firmly. “No, not the front door either.”

“That will be used by the general public anyway. Try to lure him to use the side door. Not the right one, the left door.”

Even among the side doors, the right door was closer to the front entrance, while the left door was closer to the back entrance.

“Isn’t sniping possible from Taten from that position?”

“The angle isn’t right from the living room. The trees in the church’s backyard slightly obstruct the view. But if he moves to the bedroom, it might just barely be possible. So Chester would probably concede that much. Since the front door is absolutely impossible to snipe from Taten, Chester will refuse that too. Pretend to compromise and lure him to the left door.”

“What’s the point if he’s completely within the sniper point?”

Samuel wore an expression of blatant incomprehension. Isaiah sank into the seat and said.

“It has a very big meaning.”