BIA Ch. 15
by Shrimpy“Is there anything you would be able to do to help me?”
“Hmm… I think there will be.”
Perhaps. Isaiah added, just in case.
“Perhaps?”
Bran immediately tilted his head, as if he wasn’t pleased with the vague answer.
“No, I’m certain. Yes. I think I would be able to help you. No, I will help you. Trust me.”
Desperate, Isaiah issued empty promises excessively. Bran observed Isaiah for a moment and then chuckled, as if amused.
“You’re definitely not Isaiah Cole.”
Finally, Bran sat back down on the sofa. He spoke while picking up the remaining beer cans on the table.
“If you are so certain, tell me how you would be able to help me. In a transaction like this, the seller usually shows the product first.”
Judging by his tone, it seemed impossible to simply gloss over it and move on. Chester could have been fooled somehow.
Alright, let’s consider ourselves lucky to be in league with such a formidable opponent instead of that idiot, Chester. It would have been dreadful if Bran had been the enemy.
Having once again thoroughly rationalized the situation. Isaiah calmly began to speak after a long sigh.
“Before that, Bran. Will you keep a secret?”
“What secret?”
“Promise me first.”
“I promise.”
Bran said this. The way he responded perfunctorily while opening a beer can had the exact nuance of ‘I promise I won’t leave my socks inside out anymore,’ but Isaiah decided to let it slide for now.
“Actually, I’m FBI.”
“Puuup!”
Bran spat out the beer he had just taken a sip of.
“Bran!”
Flustered, Isaiah grabbed a roll of toilet paper from the table and handed it to Bran.
“What did you just say?”
Bran asked, tearing off a piece of toilet paper and wiping his wet chin. He was so startled that he was still standing and even coughed slightly.
“I figured you would be surprised. But it’s true.”
“This is so unexpected.”
Bran brushed the beer off his shirt collar with the tissue. As if he knew the tie was beyond saving, he simply removed it. After tossing the loosened tie carelessly onto the floor. Bran sat back down on the sofa and said.
“How did you know that?”
“There was an ID in the closet.”
“What ID?”
“My FBI ID, of course?”
Perhaps? Isaiah added quietly this time.
“Why do you keep adding ‘perhaps’ at the end of your sentences?”
“Well….”
After some deliberation, Isaiah confessed honestly.
“Actually, the condition of the ID card is a bit bad.”
“Show me.”
Isaiah hesitated briefly before rising. He went to the bedroom, retrieved the FBI ID hidden in the cabinet, and returned to the living room. As soon as Bran saw the ID Isaiah handed him, he seemed to understand his previous comment.
“You tore out the photo and signature.”
“Yes. I don’t know why, though.”
“You probably did that so no one would know who it belonged to if it was discovered.”
“Right, that’s what I think, too.”
Isaiah looked at the ID in Bran’s hand. Looking at it again, all he could think was that it was torn quite precisely.
“I see. So this is what an FBI ID looks like.”
Bran said, carefully examining the front and back of the ID.
“Yes. Anyway, so, Bran. I think I’m probably undercover.”
“I suppose that’s possible.”
Bran agreed surprisingly readily.
“So, was joining White Dove itself part of the undercover operation?”
“I’m not sure about that… Wait, do you believe me?”
Receiving his ID back. Isaiah asked again, his voice tinged with embarrassment.
“Believe me.”
Bran looked dumbfounded.
“Why do you always contradict yourself?”
“Oh, that’s true, but I wasn’t sure you would actually believe me.”
Isaiah spoke defensively.
“It’s such an absurd story.”
“That’s true, but there’s evidence.”
His expression said, ‘If I’ve seen this kind of evidence, I have to believe it, what choice do I have?’
Well, he had just said it himself. The reason the signature and photo were torn was probably to hide his identity. What other reason would the FBI have to hide the identity of an innocent person?
“So, what’s in it for me if I help you?”
Bran asked, picking up the can on the table.
“Um, well… When I get my memories back, I will repay you somehow. For example, I could get you out of trouble if you’re ever facing arrest.”
“The FBI doesn’t have prosecutorial power.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. It’s an investigative agency.”
Bran leaned back against the sofa, holding a can of beer. Isaiah spoke hesitantly to the man who was making himself comfortable as if he were in his own home.
“Then, well, I could leak investigative information to you.”
“Isn’t it the other way around? You’ll be the one extracting all sorts of drug trafficking information from me.”
“I, I suppose so.”
“I guarantee it.”
Bran declared, took a sip of beer, and continued.
“Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound very appealing right now. The FBI is notorious for double-crossing people.”
“What if I write a promissory note… … ?”
“Meaningless. It has no legal standing and you could easily back out of it.”
“I won’t back out.”
Isaiah spoke sincerely but Bran didn’t seem to believe him at all.
“The FBI is a group that will stop at nothing to achieve its goals. Sometimes, what they do is worse than the mafia.”
It was a cold expression Isaiah had never seen before. Plus, there was an obvious sneer on his lips. Like most mafiosi, Bran seemed to deeply loathe the FBI. Had he been badly burned by them at some point?
“Then what if I just ask you to trust me?”
Isaiah decided to give up on everything else and appeal to his sense of trust. He expected a response like, ‘Why would I trust you? Isaiah Diaz, a nineteen-year-old state college student who can’t even shoot a gun?’ But surprisingly, Bran remained silent. He just stared at Isaiah without a word.
He was too close. Isaiah could see Bran’s golden eyes, transparent like jewels, so clearly that he found himself asking in a flustered tone,
“Why? Have I always been untrustworthy?”
“No. Not really.”
Bran answered immediately.
“After all, you were a capable sniper, and you always completed your missions. You never failed.”
I have failed.
……But saying that would be suicidal, wouldn’t it? Especially in this situation?
Isaiah was just lowering his head, remembering Bran’s girlfriend, whose face he didn’t even know, killed by his own bullet, when…
“Okay, I’ll help you.”
“What?”
Isaiah abruptly lifted his head in surprise.
“It’s not a bad idea to be in the FBI’s debt, no matter what.”
“Really? Bran, then,”
“But I have a condition.”
Bran interrupted Isaiah.
“A condition? What is it?”
Isaiah practically shouted, ready to pounce. Bran, fully aware of Isaiah’s desperation, annoyingly took three sips of beer before speaking.
“First, understand this clearly. I’m helping Isaiah Cole, not Isaiah Diaz. So, do everything you can to get back to being Isaiah Cole as quickly as possible.”
“Do everything… … How?”
“Figure it out. First thing tomorrow, we’re going to a psychiatrist. Hypnosis, Counseling, EEG scans. Anything that will reveal the cause. Then we’ll have a better idea of how to fix it.”
……As expected.
Isaiah was secretly impressed. He was a completely different kind of man from Chester, who just kept yelling at him to remember. Well, you had to know these things to suggest them. What would that idiot Chester know? He would just get angry if Manny tried to help him by looking things up online.
“And one more thing. Until you recover your memory, you follow my orders unconditionally.”
“What? What’s that?”
Isaiah exclaimed, bewildered. It was absurd. He had just praised Bran for being different from Chester, and now he was acting even worse.
“I won’t give you orders that will harm you.”
“How can I trust…”
“Trust me.”
Bran stated firmly.
“I’ll do it for my own sake, too. I told you, I need your help. Of course, the ‘you’ I’m talking about is—?”
“… Isaiah Cole.”
Isaiah answered with a sigh.
“Right. Isaiah Cole, on my side, is definitely an asset.”
Bran smiled as if confirming the correct answer.
“So, my goal is for you to safely recover your memory and your shooting skills before the successor is announced, so you can blow Chester’s head off.”
‘Do you understand now? What it means?’ Bran whispered softly into Isaiah’s ear, tilting his head slightly. Once again, his voice was as sweet and rich as honey.