The Hunter — A Short Story

Not always what you think…

There couldn’t be anything worse than airport security. So many rules to be followed, or they’d pull you aside for a more personal and uncomfortable search. It seemed to happen to me often, and sometimes I’m not sure why they felt the need.

Of course, all the security meant less terrorist threats. It kept America safe. It also kept me late for my meeting.

Derek Nam, CIA agent tasked with finding and stopping terrorist threats. Ironic that I complain about security.

My current mission was to monitor the terrorist organization known as Cracked Wall, which is believed to have dealings with a man named Charles Duboro. Mr. Duboro supposedly has helped Cracked Wall hijack planes through alternative means.

Through extensive investigation, Cracked Wall created technology able to control a plane remotely by the use of a smartphone. That technology in the hands of a large terrorist organization would have catastrophic consequences. It was almost fascinating in a twisted way.

Mr. Duboro was supposed to be catching a flight out of the United States to Australia soon, the origin of the Cracked Wall. My job was to intercept him for questioning. Reveal his true identity. Investigate the Cracked Wall leaders and their intentions. It was the usual interrogation, but hopefully one that would get me one step closer.

Once security finally granted my leave, I walked towards gate D5. The airport was crowded per usual, so locating a man could prove difficult. Once at gate D5, I sat in a chair overlooking the main hallway to all the other gates. The buttoned-up beach shirt and blue jeans I could wear for this assignment made me more relaxed, and the tourist part fit the disguise well. The complimentary suitcase was a nice touch.

Twenty minutes after sitting down, I spotted Mr. Duboro taking a seat several rows over. Checking my watch, the plane took off in about 30 minutes. It gave me plenty of time.

Getting out of my chair and taking my suitcase with me, I strolled over to Mr. Duboro. He wore ripped jeans with a long sleeve shirt, not my style, but it looked nice on him. His black hair was made into a ponytail and he had on dark shades. I almost didn’t recognize him because of the shades.

Mr. Duboro looked up at me as I approached, covering his phone simultaneously.

“Sir, may I speak with you real quick?” I asked him.

“Who are you?” Mr. Duboro asked. I could tell he was a smoker.

I showed him my CIA I.D., “Please sir, follow me.”

Mr. Duboro hesitated for a moment as he studied me. Then he grabbed his suitcase and stood up, gesturing for me to lead the way. I led him back to the security checkpoint where I showed the guards my I.D. as well. They set us up with one of their office rooms.

After Mr. Duboro walked inside, I nodded to the two guards who accompanied us.

“Wait outside,” I told them. “I can handle this.”

They nodded and stood guard as I closed the door. In the corner of the room was a camera aimed at Mr. Duboro. I strolled over and grabbed the wire as I looked at him. Yanking it out of the wall didn’t faze the man and I respected him for it.

“We don’t need nosey guards listening to our conversation,” I said as I sat on the opposite side of the table to Mr. Duboro.

“So what does the CIA need me for?” he asked, glancing up at the disabled camera again. Maybe it bothered him more than he let on.

“You tell me,” I replied as I sat back with my legs up, “Why were you going to Australia?”

“To visit family,” he said. He eyed me warily. It became a little unnerving being stared down by him.

“Is that all?” I asked.

“Yep,” he replied bluntly.

“Is this your main family or distant?”

“Main.”

“So then, why are you in America?”

“For work.”

I studied him, then paced as I spoke. “What kind of work do you do?”

“Well… I was an accountant, but I disliked the job. So I’m currently looking for something else in the lines of marketing.”

I paused for a moment. I anticipated that he wouldn’t share any information, so I prepared to show evidence.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Mr. Duboro asked, catching me off-guard, “I feel like we’ve met before.”

“You must mistake me for another,” I said flatly as I tossed some pictures on the table from my suitcase, “Now tell me why an accountant or marketer would be so interested in abandoned buildings, gun shops, and phone companies like you see here.”

Mr. Duboro looked at the pictures of him going into the buildings and shops, and attending many tech meetings about the latest advancements. He chuckled and sat back in his chair, looking up at me, smiling.

“Why were you going into these places, Mr. Duboro?” I questioned. “Yes, I know who you are.”

He laughed again. “Why not tell me if you already know who I am?”

I cracked a smile. “One of the masterminds behind Cracked Wall. You’ve organized a group of followers who believe so strongly in your plan, they will go to any lengths for you. You’ve caused mayhem and destruction, but all were just distractions to cover up your larger objectives at work.

“Your larger works… now that’s quite something. You’re looking for freedom, freedom for everyone. Whether it brings in chaos or tranquility. Governments have gone on too long being the powers of the planet, and they continue to ruin it and the people they swore to protect. Cracked Wall is changing the game. And now your most recent stunt has been to gain control of airplanes with your smartphones. How am I doing so far?”

I watched his reaction, yet it was only a smile.

Mr. Duboro responded, “It’s amusing to hear this. People don’t know about our smartphone situation or our bigger plans because we haven’t shared them publicly yet. Only our group including the tech guy who helped us with the smartphones knew. So now I’m curious how you found this out?”

I stood there, nodded while grinning, and said, “So you admit to being who I say you are?”

Mr. Duboro lifted his sleeve to reveal a tattoo of a cracked wall. It was a well-detailed brick wall, with a crack in the middle showing a black hole. A representation of the national power’s future.

I stared at it with a chill going down my spine. “I knew I had the right guy.”

I slowly lifted my sleeve above my shoulder to reveal the same tattoo. Mr. Duboro looked at it briefly before standing up.

“You must be our new member, Derek, right?” Mr. Duboro asked as he walked over to me, shaking my hand.

“I told you we would meet eventually,” I replied. “Don’t worry, our flight is still here. We haven’t missed it.”

“The man with the tech,” Mr. Duboro said, ignoring my comment.

“That’s me,” I replied.

Finally, after so much waiting, I could meet the leader of Cracked Wall. It took years of CIA training and work to track down the man. Years of positioning myself inside America’s government to aid him. All of it through contacts I never met. Never being able to meet the big man himself. Now Mr. Duboro knew who I was, and I can finally take on a bigger role within their organization.

“Finally, we meet!” Mr. Duboro exclaimed. “I wondered if we ever would.”

Mr. Duboro outstretched his arms, as if he wanted to hug me. His forwardness surprised me. Not wanting to give off a poor impression, I gave a light hug back, but before I could register what had happened, I was pinned to the floor with Mr. Duboro on top of me.

“You are under arrest Derek Nam,” he said as the two other guards from outside walked in, securing handcuffs around my wrists. “You not only helped a known terrorist organization but pretended to be a CIA agent to aid them? You’re one dangerous man.”

“What?” I said angrily, being pulled up to my knees. “Who are you?”

“I’m not who you think I am, Derek,” Mr. Duboro replied. “I’ve been after you for months now. Your poor performance as a CIA agent tipped you off as suspicious to me. Now you just made it easier when you contacted me.”

He smiled and crouched down to my level as he spoke. “Cracked Wall is fake. It’s a trap to capture psychotic people like you who want to join what they think is the best solution for this country, for the world. Taking aggressive actions while not once thinking of the consequences. And with technology like yours, you could have done serious damage. Got to admit you’re good, but everyone slips up eventually.”

“This can’t be real!” I shouted furiously, “How are you an agent?! You killed people! I saw the news!”

“Not as smart as I thought,” Mr. Duboro said, standing up and gesturing to the other men. “Mr. Nam, you have a right to remain silent. Anything you do or say can and will be held against you in a court of law. I’m truly happy to see you, as I’m sure Cracked Wall is, too. You’ll be spending a lot of time behind solid ones with them.”

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