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“
 There’s no match?”
“That’s right. We looked up the identities of everyone with the name Fritz Bonaham through their social insurance numbers, but none of them were plausible candidates to be Corvus.”
Yuto and Rob had checked out of their motel that next morning, and had returned to DC around noon. Yuto dropped off Rob first, who had plans to meet with someone, and headed to FBI headquarters alone.
From Heiden’s surly expression, Yuto had figured there was no good news about Bonaham, but he wasn’t expecting it to be a dead end.
“Here’s the list. You can see for yourself.”
Yuto took the document from Heiden and perused the profiles of all the Fritz Bonahams found in the United States. There were not many, given the unusual name.
Although Yuto had entertained the possibility of an oversight, Heiden’s words turned out to be true. Their ages did not match. Those who were closest in age to Corvus were twenty-three and forty-eight. Even with plastic surgery, it was a stretch.
Was Fritz Bonaham an alias, too? Or perhaps he wasn’t an American citizen. Just as Yuto was about to sag in disappointment, Heiden said something peculiar.
“That said, there’s one Bonaham who stood out to me, though he’s a far cry from Corvus. Him.”
Heiden pointed out a man who was listed as missing. Counting from his date of birth, he would be sixty-nine. What about him had caught Heiden’s attention?
“He was a former Navy SEAL, and after being discharged he was living in Colombia. He has a younger sister who testified that he’d never kept in touch much, but would always send a Christmas card. But apparently that stopped, too, twelve years ago.”
“Same name, ex-military, Colombia. Can’t be a coincidence,” Yuto remarked.
“I agree,” Heiden said. “You’d need to look into this deeper.”
He then heaved a sigh as he propped his elbows up on the desk and linked his long fingers in front of his well-shaped nose.
“What’s more problematic than Bonaham is Bill Manning. He’s a troublesome one. The Republicans have the lead in this election, which means he’s very likely to become the vice president. If Manning is involved in this case somehow, it will be a political scandal for the ages.”
“Whether Manning becomes vice president or not, it has nothing to do with our investigation, right?” Yuto said pointedly. Heiden cocked his eyebrow slightly, seemingly having taken offence.
“If only things were that simple. Was the DEA immune to political pressure? Such an upstanding, lofty organization it must be.”
“Heiden, don’t change the subject. I want to arrest Corvus with whatever it takes. The last thing I want to do is have my hands tied due to political pressure. I’m begging you – stand your ground so we can see this investigation through to the end.”
“No need to remind me. This is my case. I’ve spent all this time chasing him, and he’s finally within reach. I’m not letting go without a fight.”
Yuto was reassured by Heiden’s confident tone. At least for now, it seemed like his hatred for Corvus was greater than his career ambitions or self-preservation.
After that, Yuto and Heiden examined the information gathered from Mayer. In conclusion, Heiden said that they would zero in on the connection between Manning, General Mars, and Smith-Backs Company. In particular, Heiden asked Yuto to look into Manning’s activities before he became a Senator, and especially his social connections in Colombia.
Yuto left FBI headquarters in the evening and joined Rob, who had finished his own errands. They drove down the streets for a while to make sure that no one was tailing them before checking into their new hotel.
Once they got into their room, Yuto updated Rob regarding Bonaham, but Rob didn’t seem particularly disappointed.
“It would certainly help to have more clues, but I don’t think we’ll be able to arrest him even if we pinpointed his identity,” he said. He was right. Usually, one could pinpoint a perpetrator’s whereabouts through his identity, but Corvus was not a usual case. Nonetheless, Yuto had strong desire to know Corvus’ real name, age, birthplace, and family structure. It wasn’t simply because these facts were the basics in any investigation; Yuto felt that, by getting to know Corvus’ mysterious background — who he was as a person, and why he was living such a complicated life – it would somehow bring him closer to the man. Yuto began unpacking his suitcase, his back turned to Rob.
“Yuto, I was able to see Jessica Foster as planned,” said the man behind him.
Jessica was a skilled lobbyist on a contract with Smith-Backs Company, and was also Egan’s niece. Dick was in the middle of insinuating himself with Jessica, posing as someone from a system development company, in order to get close to Egan.
Jessica seemed infatuated with Dick, and Dick had mentioned that he would sleep with her if such a need arose. Perhaps because of that, every mention of Jessica’s name brought an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Yuto didn’t want to admit it, but he was clearly jealous.
“Oh, yeah? How did it go?” Yuto said, turning around. He was careful not to let his personal feelings show on his face.
“Both General Mars and Smith-Backs Company have made enormous political donations. Not only that, three members of the current cabinet have deep ties to both companies. Jessica said that there would be even more once Manning became vice president.”
“Is Jessica close with Manning?”
“They seem to keep in touch, given Jessica’s line of work and the fact that they’re distant relatives. Manning probably helped Jessica get where she is today as a well-known lobbyist.”
“I see. —And were you able to get it?” Yuto asked the burning question. Rob grinned and took out a blue envelope from his suit jacket pocket.
“Nice.”
“Yeah. But it was tough. I just kept complimenting her like a broken record. I thought I would pull a muscle in my tongue from all the sweet-talking.”
Earlier today, while they were driving back to DC, Rob had gotten a call on his cell phone from Jessica inviting him for lunch. As they dined together, Jessica had told Rob that there would be a celebration party this weekend in Manhattan to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of General Mars. Apparently wanting to brag, Jessica had told him that she was excited to meet Manning, Egan, and President Waddell of General Mars at the party.
Upon hearing this information, Yuto had asked Rob to snag an invitation to the party. It was a rare occasion for the three busy individuals to be in the same location. They were bound to be planning to discuss the incident in person. It was an opportunity like no other.
“It’s exhausting to sweet talk when you don’t mean it, you know.”
“You did a good job, Rob. Nothing is impossible when it comes to you,” Yuto said, laying the compliments on thick. Rob sniffed smugly.
“I’ll get us a hotel, then. And a nice tuxedo for you, while I’m at it.”
Yuto grimaced. “A suit is good enough, don’t you think?” he protested.
Rob insisted that a suit wasn’t appropriate for a five-star luxury hotel like the Marquiladin, and asked for his shoe size.
“I have a friend over there from my college days who’s a stylist. I can ask him to put together an outfit for you, head to toe.”
“Why do you only need my shoe size?”
“Because I know the rest.”
Yuto gave him a doubtful look.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Rob said, raising his hands in an exaggerated manner. “I can figure out people’s measurements just by hugging them.”
“Amazing,” Yuto deadpanned at Rob’s joke as he headed to the shower.
“Hey, you think I’m lying?” Rob said, following after him and leaning against the bathroom door.
“Of course I believe you,” Yuto said indifferently as he unbuttoned his shirt. “Nothing is impossible for Rob. You’re Professor Superman. You’re even good at changing diapers.”
“Oh, you are the worst,” Rob said in mock offense. “Now you’ve got me missing Katie. Oh, I wish I could rub my face against her soft marshmallow cheeks. That’s it, I can’t stand it anymore. Can I kiss you on the cheek instead?”
Yuto chuckled and took off his shirt, throwing it over Rob’s head.
“Unfortunately, ‘marshmallow’ is the last word you’d use to describe my cheeks. Now, will you get out? I’m not stripping for free.”
Rob pulled the shirt off his head and grinned. “Oh, so you’re charging?” he teased. But his face soon turned serious. “Yuto, there’s one thing I forgot to say. Dick’s apparently coming to the party as well.”
Yuto felt a sharp, stabbing pain shoot through his chest, but he didn’t let it show on his face.
“Is that so?” he said, nodding.
It wasn’t anything to be surprised about. He was probably accompanying Jessica. As long as they were after the same guy, Yuto was bound to cross paths with Dick again.
“Rob, if Dick is fixated on Egan, does that mean that Egan is likely to be the one sheltering Corvus?”
“If Dick is right, then yeah. But I don’t know how accurate the CIA’s intelligence is. We shouldn’t let ourselves be too swayed by their actions.”
“You’re right.”
Rob looked like he wanted to say something more, but he saw Yuto’s firm attitude and didn’t prod any further about Dick. Once Yuto was left alone to take his shower, he closed his eyes tightly as he let the hot water rain down on him.
There was a chance he might see Dick again – but he felt more anxious than glad. He wasn’t confident that he could remain calm and collected when they reunited again. He knew that if they met, he would find himself searching for a sign in Dick’s eyes – something that he could only sense.
But Dick would no doubt have stepped completely into his role as Steve Muller, giving away not so much as a hint of his actual feelings. Would Yuto be able to face Dick’s icy gaze and still fake a smile?
—You always find a way to break my heart.
Dick’s words echoed like a phantom voice, and described Yuto’s feelings exactly.
Bonaham was gazing out the window. There were several dorm buildings that surrounded a large square. The place was decently large for a training camp in the back country.
A crowd of trainees in military fatigues had gathered in the open square. They had been given a day off as today was the country’s Independence Day. He didn’t know what the commotion was about, but he had no intentions of meddling in their activities on their free time.
However, Bonaham realized that something was off. There were usually children scurrying around the square amidst the local trainees, but he couldn’t spot a single one today.
“Bonaham! Come quick!” yelled training officer Brown as he burst into the room. “He’s doing it again! Come over here!” Bonaham sensed at once that Brown was referring to the boy. He threw a coat over his shoulders as he briskly followed after the man.
Once out in the square, Bonaham pushed aside the trainees toward the front of the gaggle. He let out a low groan as he saw the unbelievable scene before him.
One of the trainees, a man called Jose, was tied to a tree with a rope. He was limp and bleeding everywhere. The children had formed a circle around Jose, and were each holding a survival knife covered in blood. It was clear that they had stabbed Jose.
“Brian, you’re next. Go.”
On the boy’s orders, a black child lifted the survival knife that was much too big for him, and bravely plunged it into Jose’s stomach.
“Stop it! What the hell are you doing?” Bonaham hastily wrenched Brian away.
“Don’t get in the way,” the boy said coolly. “Jose’s just getting what he deserves. This is a form of public execution, Bonaham.”
“Public execution
? What are you going on about?”
“Jose raped Ricky. I looked into it, and found other kids who’ve been victims, too. We had to do something, or else the rest of the kids would fall prey to the trainees. This public execution needs to happen – to serve as a warning.”
Spending an extended time in this kind of camp environment without any females usually caused men to turn to children to satisfy their sexual desires. Although Bonaham had warned the trainees that they had been entrusted with the children temporarily and were not to hurt them in any way, it looked like his instructions had gone unheeded.
“But an execution is too much. You’ve done enough now, don’t you think?”
“Not yet. —Come on, Ricky. You get to give the last blow.”
The boy put an arm around the shoulder of a white boy next to him, and whispered gently into his ear.
“Aim for the left side of his chest. You’ve gotta get it right, or else the other men will keep doing the same things to you. You don’t want that, do you? Then, you’ve gotta kill Jose. Kill him to protect yourself.”
Ricky nodded resolutely, and tightly gripped the survival knife at chest level.
“Stop it, Ricky! This is an order!” Bonaham yelled. Ricky flinched and looked up at the boy as if for guidance.
“Don’t listen to Bonaham. Listen to me. Remember what Willy said? I’m your boss. —Bonaham, would you be quiet? I’ve gotten permission from Willy to do this. You have no right to intervene.”
After a certain point in time, the boy had begun to talk down to Bonaham – that man had given him the authority to. Now, Bonaham had no power to stop the boy’s unravelling sanity as spun out of control.
With full backing from the boy, Ricky plunged the blade of the knife into the chest of the man who raped him. A bloodcurdling scream escaped Jose’s lips. The boy pulled a gun from his hip, and without a moment’s hesitation, shot Jose in the head as if to tell him to shut up.
The boy was still holding the gun as he then turned to look around him.
“Take a good look!” he yelled in Spanish. “This is what happens to guys who do disgusting things to children!”
The trainees simply stood there, staring at the boy as if they were seeing the devil. They likely found it hard to openly criticize the boy for his actions, since the victim had been the type of despicable man to rape a child.
The boy then left the square with the group of children in tow. The children would probably follow in the footsteps of the boy to become full-fledged soldiers. They would work under the man who established this camp, to be used as tools for his espionage.
As Bonaham watched the boy, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had perhaps raised an unspeakable monster. He admitted that had raised the boy according to the wishes of that man because he himself was also curious. He wanted to know what kind of soldier the child would grow up to be after a lifetime of intensive military training.
A gloom fell over his heart as he imagined what kind of end lay ahead for the boy who had been raised to take lives without batting an eye. Perhaps Bonaham was getting old. Just a while ago, he had felt proud of the human weapon he had created, but now, he felt a stronger sense of regret.
Bonaham stared at Jose’s body. Someday, he thought, he would be struck down by the divine punishment that he deserved.