Freedom

Chapter 4

47 never knew for certain the long-term effects of the experiments Dr Ort-Meyer and his team did on him. His physical health was unsurpassable, he had never fallen sick his entire life and the few times he had been hit by bullets, his body had rapidly healed with no consequences. Despite being well into his fifties, he didn't look a day older than any thirty-something-year-old, which he assumed was also because of his artificially manipulated genes.

Yet what occurred in his mind was a completely different story. Frequently he noticed that, whereas others got upset, sad, happy or frustrated, he seemed to lack the tools to react with such expressions to life's situations. He proved it many times with Diana. At the ICA she was always described as a well-balanced, pragmatic and logical woman and yet, when they found out Soders had sold out the agency to Providence to secure himself a right-sided heart transplant, it surprised him to hear her almost losing her cool at the other side of the earpiece. Other people more prompted to display emotions seemed to enjoy showing before everyone their tears, tantrums or laughters, usually awakening others' sympathy. He understood on a cognitive level what produced anger and sadness, what made laughter and what frustrated people, but something in him prevented him from manifesting those emotions in a spontaneous and natural way.

On the field and hunting down his target, he observed people and confirmed how predictable they are, which greatly facilitated his job. He watched them as the hunter watches their prey in the jungle. To manipulate their surroundings and to create situations to achieve the desired reactions from them was part of his profession. Even interacting face to face with someone and being a witness to the consequence of his words on a person, he remained indifferent to their reactions.

A little over a year ago, he had begun to notice something different in him. It happened after Lucas injected the experimental antidote Ether developed once the corporation acquired Dr Ort-Meyer's estate. Next to his old memories, manifestations that until then never in his life experienced slowly started to arrive. When he saw Lucas shooting himself before his eyes faster than he could've pulled the trigger and defeated the CICADA agents surrounding them, something at the pit of his stomach strongly weighed and tightened as in his chest his heart skipped a beat. He clearly remembered the dryness in his mouth and the chill that washed him all over as he acknowledged Lucas was no longer breathing. Every time he relived that in his mind, he felt the same all over again. The night before in Olivia's basement, he didn't know why his breathing had agitated and the volume of his voice elevated as he replied to her accusations. Everything was a lot easier when Diana provided him with intel, context, and reasons to carry out a contract. The world through the eyes of his once handler was a place he could get to understand and navigate.

In the few months he had counted with Lucas back in his life, he was approaching another view of things. His childhood friend saw life from the trenches, with a shield in one arm and a finger on the trigger. Lucas possessed a clear vision on things, at all times he knew his fight was valid, it was worth it, not only to avenge them both but also all the lives Providence had stepped on; all the families it destroyed along their decades-long existence in the shadows. Like the Burnwoods'. Nevertheless, he remembered the times Lucas had spoken of looking towards the future with hope, as if that was the goal line he had wished to cross. That future he couldn't get to see was at the other side of Providence's destruction, the responsible ones for their tortures. Now more than a year after having fulfilled his friend's wish with his own hands, that future remained in the theory. When would it begin? Was it actually a mere utopia that pushed Lucas to carry out his revenge? Without his friend and brother and Diana's infallible guidance, the world and its mane of people and situations seemed a hostile terrain he wasn't sure he could navigate on his own.

He checked the files sent by Olivia on his mobile and approached the given address. Zürich welcomed him with a mid-winter light snow and a thick fog that blocked the vision at a few meters of distance. By the building's facade he couldn't guess a high technology bank was situated in its interior. As he crossed the threshold and entered the lobby, the minimalist and austere deco of pale pastel colors rather reminded him of a modern art gallery or a designer's furniture store.

An old man wearing a dark suit and tie came out from the reception. He greeted and welcomed him in thick Swiss German accent and showed the way to a cabin behind glass doors. Without uttering words he gestured towards a small hollow space in the wall where a bunch of red lasers bounced on the internal walls. He produced the three-dimensional print from his briefcase and placed it in its interior. Immediately the lasers went over each nook of its design and after a few seconds, a green light shone throughout the entire border of the scanner. The man gave the print back to him and then opened another box in the wall. In it, he entered a code and ordered him to speak. He uttered a simple "good morning" and the device beeped three times along with a green light shining on its crown.

They took an elevator that descended at least four stories from street level. He followed the man who guided the way through an aisle along which on both sides there were a series of armored-steel doors. Well into the corridor, the man stopped before one door and unlocked it with his card. The structure let out a metallic click and opened wide. The man gestured to its interior. He walked in and from the threshold the man instructed that when he was done, all he had to do was to place the three-dimensional print into a similar hollow space than the previous one, yet this one was embedded in the inner face of the wall lined with the door. Without further ado, he left him alone.

It was a shield chamber whose dimensions weren't any bigger than a normal bathroom. From the ceiling to the floor the polished steel shone a dark gray shade, and the walls were dressed with elegant engraved oak wood panels. A warm, flat light illuminated from above. Only one red leather armchair dominated the center, and behind it, a chest. He raised an eyebrow. He expected a high security vault embedded in the wall or a safe of similar armour. He approached and tried to open the lid. It was loose. In its interior he found only a binder. He took it out and took a seat on the armchair. What at a first glance seemed like documents, was in fact a property's title deed certificate. Real estate. The certificate didn't include the names of seller or buyer, but only mentioned the law firms who had done the trade on their clients' behalf. He supposed Lucas had been the buyer, or perhaps he had acquired it in another way. Along with the ownership certificate, there was a satellite map and coordinates. The property was located in the south of the Santa Cruz province in Argentina, almost limiting with the Chilean border at the extreme south of the continent. He went through the rest of the binder's contents and found a sealed envelope with the number 47 written with a blue pen. He opened it.

Brother,

If you've made it here, my trust in Olivia has been worthwhile.

In the property I give you awaits a more extensive letter with all I ever wanted to tell you, and I couldn't. By now, in the false bottom of the chest, you'll find the keys to your new house. I hope you enjoy it and that country life does you well.

Lucas

P.S.: Please take care of Olivia. Don't lose sight of her and protect her whenever necessary. She'll need it.

"Brother". His throat tightened as he read that word. He heard it in his head with Lucas's voice. Number 6's voice. From the other side of his death more than a year ago, he was giving him a house. A property at the end of the world. A new life. For minutes he remained completely paralyzed. Something inside him wanted out. He failed to recognize the unsettling sensation halfway between pain and hope that shook his chin and tightened his chest.

He stood up mechanically and went to the chest. He released the false bottom and found a small black bag with a zipper. In its interior, a handful of keys and five gray logo-less cards with magnetic tapes. He put away the binder and the keys in his briefcase and produced the three-dimensional print. He placed it in the scanner and the door opened by itself.

As he exited the bank, he made two calls. One to tell Olivia to pack and the other, to his trusted private jet pilot. He had the coordinates and the keys of his new house. Thousands of kilometers in the south of the world awaited Lucas's last letter. As he himself had said before jumping freefall over the Sceptre, perhaps he could look towards the future too.