Unexplained Phenomena Unit, session 12 recap: A Devil Sick of Sin, part 1

Played 27/08/23. This game was guest-GMed by Paul M Bradley, the player of Mike Jones. Recap was mostly written by Paul.

The door to the UPU assignment office opens and agents Ghost, Salem, Moore and Gadzooks step in.

The room is dark, more than usual, and the four wonder briefly if they’ve been sent to the wrong office, but as soon as the door closes behind them a desk lamp flickers on and the silhouetted figure of a CHIMERA official can be seen sat in a plush swivel chair. Salem raises an eyebrow, bemused by the theatricality of it all.    

“Sorry, have we walked onto a film set or something?”   

“This meeting is not officially happening,” states the officer. “Is that understood?”    

The four look confused but slowly nod their heads.    

“You are to board a plane in three hours time, a cargo plane shipping cars to Hong Kong. No one there knows of your inclusion on the flight except the pilots. You’re to stow away on Agent Ghost’s private vehicle and leave the airport when the other cars are driven off, the Hong Kong officials will think nothing of it.”    

“Hong Kong?” says John Moore, confused.

“That’s far outside our jurisdiction-” 

“Yes, that’s why we’re smuggling you in.” snaps the agent.    

John shakes his head.

“What I mean is, what business have we got over there? If there’s some kinda cryptid running round Hong Kong, that would be for their own government to deal with.”    

“That’s just it, Mr Moore,” the agent responds.

“We’re dealing with something a little more…complex…than a mere cryptid. I take it you’re familiar with Jadelight Electronics?”    

The team recoils a fraction. Ah, yes, of course. Jadelight, the multinational tech conglomerate responsible for unwittingly creating half the tech used during the Prometheus attacks as well as the vast arsenal of the assassin formerly known as Phantom, whose headquarters were located right in the centre of the Kowloon bay district, Hong Kong.    

“So you’ve finally got some real dirt on them?” says Salem.    

“Not yet,” the shadowy agent responds.

“But we’re hoping to.”    

They pass something across the desk, a photograph of a young asian man dressed in a crisp black suit.    

“That man is Leo Chen, CEO of Jadelight, just about the most powerful man in the whole of the eastern world. In the last couple months, he’s been expanding the company at a rate utterly unprecedented, Jadelight nearly tripled its revenue, the stock market can’t get enough of him. He’s bought out two of his three biggest competitors and his eyes are already set on the west as a brand new market. They’re calling him the Steve Jobs of China.”

“So what?” Ghost shrugs.

“This hardly seems like UPU business.”    

“It wouldn’t be, if it wasn’t for how he went about it.”

The agent slides a few more pictures across the table.

“These are just a few of the faces that attempted to get in Mr Chen’s way, Hong Kong government bureaucrats, Chinese Communist Party members, rival CEO’s. Even western politicians, union leaders, activists. Nothing connects them, not geography, not ideology, not age or sex, the only thing they have in common was that at some point they all tried to mess with his plans in some way.”    

“And?” asks Zoe.    

“And now they’re gone.”    

“What, dead? Missing?”    

“No, something else.”

The agent leans back in his chair and thinks for a moment about how to phrase this. “At some point in the last three months, each and every one of those people suffered some kind of seizure, collapsed into a coma and either woke up with a completely different attitude or haven’t woken up at all.”    

“Clearly he’s using some kinda new spy tech,” Ghost suggests.

“I know they have guns that can induce heart attacks from a long distance, so maybe it’s-”

“That’s what we thought,” the agent interrupts.

“But when a representative of the World Trade Organisation collapsed in Washington, the CIA examined his body and found nothing - not even the slightest hint of a wound or electromagnetic interference. Wasn’t even like there was room for an assassin to enter, the guy was locked in a heavily guarded building under 24 hour surveillance with windows made of bullet-proof glass.”    

“All that for one trade officer?” queries Moore.    

The agent chuckles.

“He was part of a conference with Britain to sort out another argument about Brexit.”

Salem nods. “I get it - you think Mr Chen has worked out some kinda remote mind-control spell and you want us to go snooping about for you.”    

“We tried cooperating with the CCP, but Chen has got most of them under his thumb already and the rest are too scared to speak up. Find out whatever’s going on, put a stop to it, and try not to cause a diplomatic incident along the way.”    

“Well,” sighs Salem. “Now the theatrics make a little more sense. I take it that once we cross the border, we’ll be effectively dead to you.”    

“We…won’t be able to offer our usual support, yes. You’ll be given a fake ID printer, but apart from that you’ll have to carry out this investigation on your own steam.”    

“Hey, what’s new?” says John.    

The team files out of the room, John gathering up the case documents under his arm - the words “burn after reading” stamped on the front of the folder. They make their way out the building and climb into Ghost’s customised RV, borrowed from his former nemesis.    

“If this is all true then Leo Chen is an idiot,” says Salem as he slams the back doors behind him.

“I mean, imagine having all that power and only using it to boost your stock portfolio…”

---

Nearly 16 hours later, the van is unloaded onto Hong Kong soil and Ghost drives it away, slipping into the unending traffic stream. Zoe looks around, her eyes wide. She’d seen cities before, of course she had, but this wasn’t just a city, it was a CITY. Every building, a skyscraper, every road a highway. The cars stream from all directions, from above, below, sideways, diagonally. Roadworks on every corner, pedestrians spilling along crossings like a tidal wave of flesh. Half the buildings seemed to be decaying, their little windows smushing together as if the concrete framework of the high-rise were shrivelling up like a peach left out in the sun. Not even time seemed to flow the same here, old cars and new sat side by side, ancient relics sold outside of towers made of steel and glass, and every square-foot they moved brought a new smell or a new taste in the air.    

“I have literally never felt more out of place in my life,” she mutters.

“I was born on a spaceship.”    

“Nice bike you’ve got here,” Salem comments in Ghosts direction, looking at the finely tuned machine sitting in the back of the van.   

“It was a present from my old mentor,” says Ghost.

“Touch it and I will break you.”    

Salem looks at Zoe and smirks. Oh, now they’re definitely gonna touch it at some point. 

“Ok, we’ve got a good solid lead to look into,” says John, throwing the documents into the onboard waste receptor and setting it ablaze.

“Patient at the nearby hospital, one of the newest victims of whatever this thing is. Fu Peng, guy’s in charge of some kinda regulatory body ‘round here and apparently he took exception to Leo’s disregard for the government's environmental policies.”    

Ghost rolls his eyes.

“Great, so the guy’s not only a voodoo practitioner, but he’s also a climate change denier.”

John continues.

“The hospital is currently waiting for a specialist from the US, Sarah Greene, if we can fake an ID for her then we can infiltrate and get a better look at what this thing does to its victims.” “Won’t the police be there, too?” asks Salem.

“Seems logical they’d be investigating as well.”    

John nods.

“I think it’s safe to say we can expect that, maybe we can overhear some useful info from them. Now, let’s-”    

“Hold on a second!” calls Ghost.

“What if the original Sarah Greene shows up mid-way through? How far away is she?”

“They only sent for her yesterday, she probably won’t be in Hong Kong for another couple hours. Anyway-”    

“We need to make sure though,” says Salem.

“And what if they already know what Sarah looks like? Does she look enough like Zoe for them to be fooled?”    

John thinks for a second “She’s a specialist from another country, I doubt they-”    

“What if we waylay her on her way from the airport?” pipes Ghost.

“Salem, you could pretend to be her chauffeur and take her to the wrong place.”

“You think she’d believe that?”    

“Why not?”    

“The scar on my face. It’s hardly the look of a chauffeur, is it?”   

“Well I’ll go, then.”   

“You? In your leather Jacket?”   

“I can borrow a suit from John. John, you remembered to pack a suit, didn’t you?”    

“I had a set on my own van, but not here.” 

“Well couldn’t you be the chauffeur then and I’ll pretend to be a bodyguard?”    

“Uh…sure…ok…So what’s Salem gonna do?”    

“I’ll be Zoe’s assistant.”    

“But the scar on your face!”    

“Doctor’s can have scars, Ghost!”    

“I’ll be the assistant.” 

“No! You’re the chauffeur!”    

“Oh yeah, shit.”    

“Hang on, I’ve got a better idea, what if-”    

“OH FOR GOD’S SAKE!!!” screams Zoe.    

The three men stop to look at her.    

“Salem, you’re my assistant. John, Ghost, you be joint chauffeurs- why would a medical doctor need a bodyguard, anyway?! Ok, are we agreed?”   

A deathly pause. Ghost raises his hand.    

“Well, she might need a bodyguard if-”    

“Don’t,” says Salem, knowing the wrath of an introvert pushed to breaking point.

“Just don’t.” 

[Editors note - this was an EXTREMELY condensed version of this conversation]

---

A few minutes later, Zoe stands outside the hospital, clutching her fake ID to her chest. Salem puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder.    

“You’ll be fine.” 

“Any tips for going undercover?”    

Salem smiles.

“Believe in yourself. Whatever the situation, just act like you own the place, you’ll be fine.”

She nods. “Cool, great, fine…”

“I mean, we could always change the plan if you want Ghost to-”    

“I swear to God, don’t start that again.”    

“Good, that’s the energy we need.”    

And without another word between them, they walked through the sliding doors, presented their ID’s to reception and were whisked up the elevator to floor 18.    

The ward was sealed off, only one bed occupied. Nurses shuffled back and forth, mingling with Lieutenant Chang Lee and Detective Bernard Joseph Aubrey. Bernard fills his old smoking pipe with tobacco, but is stopped by Lieutenant Lee before he can light it.    

“Oh blast, bloody regulations.”    

He tips the tobacco back into its tin and opts to simply fiddle with the pipe as if he were a child playing as Sherlock Holmes.    

The door to the ward swings open and Zoe enters with Salem following behind. Bernard looks at them through his half-moon spectacles.    

“Ah, you’re the boffins from the states, I take it.”    

“That’s right,” says Zoe.

“Sarah Greene, and this is my assistant…”    

A pause, Salem thinks fast, flicking through every name he knows in alphabetical order.

He doesn’t get very far.    

“Aaron.”    

“Good to meet you, Doctor Greene,” says Lieutenant Lee.

“I trust you have read the confidentiality clauses. This case is part of an ongoing investigation, after all.”    

“Yep, read, signed and sealed!” chimes Salem in an uncharacteristically cheerful tone.

“So…this guy’s in a coma, isn’t he?”    

The room pauses. Zoe looks to Salem. Oh, right, the ‘ol “good doc, stupid doc, routine…"

“Sorry, you must excuse my apprentice,” she says.

“Aaron is very talented, but he's new to these kinds of... sensitive situations.”    

“...Yes…” says Bernard, readjusting his specs.

“Well, anyway, have a gander. He’s a complete vegetable as far as anyone here can see.”    

Zoe leans over to inspect the patient. Breathing seemed normal, no signs of physical trauma, just as HQ had said. Incredible, like the guy just fell asleep and didn’t wake up again.    

“What was he doing before falling ill?”    

“Nothing in particular, as far as we can tell,” the Lieutenant remarks.

“According to our timeline, he went home after work, began to make dinner with his wife and then simply collapsed.” 

“Odd…”    

“Perhaps I can look!” says Salem, placing his hand atop the patient’s head.    

“What?” says Zoe.

“Oh! Yes! Of Course!”    

“What’s the boy doing?” asks Bernard.    

“Oh, it’s his own special form of examination.” says Zoe.

“Surprisingly effective…I hope.”   

A brief moment of concentration and suddenly Salem is inside the man’s mind. At first there is nothing but thick grey fog in all directions, but slowly as it clears he sees something surprising. Truth be told, he had expected to find the man locked in an endless black void, screaming out in terror at his sudden isolation.

Instead, he finds himself strolling through a beautiful, scented garden, littered with daisies and golden dandelions. In the distance sits Mr Peng, sipping a cup of coffee and making friendly chit-chat with a strange hooded figure. He tries to approach, to see the face under the thick black hood, but suddenly there’s an invisible wall in front of him and the figure is slowly turning to face him. A blazing wall of fire, the deafening screech of an eagle, and Salem is hurling at full-speed away from the patient.    

Back in reality, he gasps and stumbles away from Mr Peng, head spinning and knees weak. “Woah there!” calls Bernard.

“Is the lad alright?!?”    

“Uh, yeah, fine!” Zoe responds before leaning over to whisper into Salem’s ear.    

“You ok, man?”    

“Jesus Christ, that thing was powerful.”    

“Doctor Greene, do you think you can give us a diagnosis?” Lieutenant Lee asks.   

“What? Oh, right. Um…It could be any number of things…But my guess would be a natural phenomena, perhaps some late-onset epilepsy.”    

Detective Aubrey narrows his eyes. “Are you sure?”    “

Well, as sure as a doctor can be,” Zoe lies, sweat breaking out across her face.    

“Well then…”    

“Well then…”    

A tense silence.    

“I can run some more tests, if you’d like.”    

“Please do, Ms Green.”    

The detective writes down his phone number on a slip of paper.    

“Call me when you discover something.”    

“Will do!”    

And before any more questions can be asked, the pair are gone. 

Outside, Salem catches his breath while they wait for the others to return from their chauffeur duties. Salem recounts the full story in as much detail as his frazzled mind can muster.    

“Man, those powers really aren’t good for your health,” murmurs Zoe.    

“Useful though.”    

“So it was definitely an eagle screech you heard?”   

“Oh yeah, no mistaking it.”    

“Weird.”   

“Any supernatural beings you know associated with eagles?”    

“None that can do this.”    

“Well, whoever or whatever is doing this, they’re powerful as all hell. There was no way they should have been able to expel me like that unless they’re an expert.”    

“Great,” sighs Zoe. “And there was me hoping for a nice easy case to solve…” 

---

“And then it threw me out, that’s about all I can say.”    

The crew, now reunited in Ghost’s RV, take a second to consider the info.

Salem is sneakily resting a single forefinger on the motorbike while Ghost isn’t looking. Zoe subtly snaps a picture with her phone - another one for the ‘bike poking’ album.    

“It sounds like an advanced Astral dislocation spell,” says John, flicking through one of the arcane books he remembered to pack.

“It loosens the connection between the soul and the physical body, puts the person in a kind of dream state. That would probably make them more suggestable for any would-be brainwashers.”    

“How the hell do we bring them back then?!” asks Ghost.

“I mean, if these guys have had their soul ripped out-”   

“I said loosened, not ripped out. You can’t evict a soul from its body, not without killing said body at least. Not even a demonic possession could do that.”    

“We’ll just have to find the counter spell,” says Salem.    

John looks at him. “That’s the problem though. Once the person is under, only direct intervention at the source of the spell can do that.”    

“Perhaps they’re all carrying something,” Zoe postulates.

“Some sort of mark or talisman that Chen could have slipped them.”    

“He wouldn’t need it,” says John.

“The spell works remotely, all he would need is a picture to throw into a magic circle, and that’s hardly difficult to get.”   

“You know what puzzles me?” says Salem.

“How the hell does a random CEO get his hands on magic like that? That stuff is deep occult knowledge, hardly the sort of thing you can buy on Amazon or whatever the Chinese equivalent of that is.”    

“He’s a bit more than a random CEO,” replies Ghost. “Trust me, when you’re rich enough, nothing is outside of your grasp.”    

“Might also have something to do with this…” say’s John, backing the others around a computer monitor.    

A news report, a tiny little article near the bottom of the search engine: Jadelight in trouble with the Hong Kong government after agents allegedly hired by Leo Chen stole scrap metal from a government facility which was due for recycling. Both Chen and the Hong Kong government refused to comment any further on the incident and no formal action was taken. “And look at the date,” says John, pointing to the screen.

“A mere two weeks before the first coma patient. And the first victim?”    

“Let me guess,” says Ghost.

“The guy who tried to stop the theft.”    

“Jackpot!”    

“You think the government themselves might have been up to something?” Zoe asks.    

“It’s possible, surely,” says Salem.

“Although…”   

“What?”   

“I dunno, I’ve just got a weird feeling…deja vu…” 

---

The grand tower of Jadelight Electronics stands like a monolith before the gang. Salem and Ghost wait by the ID printer while John and Zoe talk tech by the on-board computer.    

“You’re sure you’re ok with going undercover again?” John asks.    

Zoe nods. “If a professional detective didn’t notice the act, I’m pretty sure I can get past a few tech guys staring at their computer screens.” 

“Just don’t get cocky, kid, that’s the easiest way to die in this job.”   

“Oh, don’t worry,” Zoe chuckles.

“I’ve only just moved on from ‘nervous wreck’ I won’t hit cocky territory for at least another couple years!”    

“IDs are printed!” calls Ghost.

“Salem and I are building inspectors. Zoe, you're an admin assistant for server maintenance.” 

Zoe grabs her ID badge and the three make their way from the car park to the building entrance.    

“You sure you won’t join us?” Zoe asks.    

John shakes his head.

“Someone’s gotta be the boring one keeping an eye on things.”    

Zoe splits from the other two the second she walks through the door, striding with purpose towards the server room. She feels the reassuring weight of the flash-drive in her pocket and recites John’s instructions in her head as if it were a sacred incantation.    

Plug the drive into the main server. Wait one hour. Remove the drive. Get out.    

Hard to believe that’s all that was needed in order to steal all of the most heavily guarded secrets of the biggest tech-giant this side of the globe, but in a world where magic and monsters lurked just under the surface of every-day life, who the hell was Zoe to start pointing out that kind of thing?    

Meanwhile, Ghost and Salem wait by the reception as Leo Chen descends from his office to meet them with his assistant in tow.    

“You think we can get a look in his office as part of our inspection?” asks Ghost.    

“I doubt it,” sighs Salem.

“Rich people rarely let the underclasses anywhere near their precious living spaces if they can at all help it. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had some sort of superstition about it.”

“Well how the hell are we going to get any evidence then?!” Ghost hisses.

“I wanna find whatever voodoo shit he’s using so we can break the curse!”    

“You really think he’d do all that in his office?”    

“Why not? If he doesn’t let people in-”   

“I said the underclasses, not people. In bourgeois eyes there’s a distinction.”    

“Ah.”    

“Yes, and I imagine it would make shrimp cocktail night with the board members rather awkward if they all had to step over a big incantation sigil on the floor.”    

And suddenly, there he is; Leo Chen. He’s like a supermodel, a perfect poster-boy for the future of the tech industry, as smooth and shiny as the smartphone in his pocket.

“Greetings, gentlemen! I must say, this is a most unexpected visit.”

“Well, you know how it is,” jokes Salem.

“We had to start doing random inspections or else people would just paint over the bits they didn’t want us to see.”    

Leo smiles, a grin as cold as metal.

“Well, I’m sure you will find Jadelight most cooperative. If you follow Tammy and I, we’ll show you everything.”    

His assistant smiles and gestures for them to follow, they comply.    

“Anyway,” whispers Salem. “We’re just the distraction for Zoe, remember?” 

---

Zoe slinks into the server room unchallenged. Around her are fresh-faced students, all nervously poking at cables or running incomprehensible programmes on laptops. She tries to make a show of blending in for a few minutes, but quickly realises there’s no point - better to just get the job done and go.

She walks over to the main building server. She freezes. Someone is already there. A woman, slim, dark-haired, dressed in a black hoodie. She’s already got her own computer plugged into the port. Would she notice the malware from the flash drive? Would it blow her whole cover? How long was she gonna be there?! Crap, crap, crap!!!    

“Ok, fine,” she mutters to herself, her former confidence quickly evaporating.

“She doesn’t look like she’s going any time soon so just…just plug in and play it cool.”   

She walks over, inserts the drive, and waits. Fifty-nine agonising minutes pass by. The woman with the laptop eyes her suspiciously.    

“What are you doing?”    

Zoe begins to sweat.

“Uh, just…y’know…maintenance stuff.” 

“...right.”    

She unplugs her computer and stands.    

“You’re new here, aren’t you?”    

“No. I mean. Umm…yes! I'm Zo-Er-Suzie!”    

“Ping Cho.”    

“Great! Good name!”    

“...So are you-?”    

One hour elapsed.    

“Sorry gotta go, bye!”    

Zoe unplugs the drive and prepares to head off. Suddenly she feels a hand on her shoulder. Ping Cho.    

“Would you mind following me?”    

The nervous sweat is coming fast now.    

“Oh no, sorry, I really have to-”    

“I don’t think you heard me,” Zoe looks down. Ping Cho is holding a miniature gun to her stomach.

“I said, would you mind following me?” 

---

“Yes, well, that all seems in order!” says Salem, cheerily.

“You have full certification from us. We’ll send you the certificate of structural integrity as soon as we return back to base!”    

“Very glad to hear it,” says Leo Chen.

“Take care, gentlemen.”    

“You too!”   

And with that, the two agents stride from the sliding doors of the building.    

“Phew,” sighs Ghost.

“Well, that was next door to fucking useless!”    

“Oh, I dunno,” smirks Salem.

“We got some complimentary mints out of him.”    

“All we got to see were the water pipes and the dry-rot in the basement!”    

“Yes, they really ought to get that looked at, it’s very nasty.”    

“This is not how I wanted to spend my evening.”    

“I still think we should have been tax inspectors. We’d have got a lot more out of them that way.”    

“True, but I think they’d have probably murdered us on the spot if we started talking about how much they owed.”    

The pair round the corner until they reach the van, still waiting for them in the car park. “How’s it going?” asks Ghost. 

“All quiet on the eastern front,” says John. “Just been watching the screen and listening to my podcasts.”    

“Fuck kinda podcasts do you listen to?” asks Ghost.    

Alas, John shall never answer this question. 

---

“This way,” orders Ping Cho.

“And act natural.”    

“Who are you?” whispers Zoe as the pair walk out the building.    

Ping Cho just chuckles. “You’re hardly in a position to ask.”

The pair turn into the car park, Ping Cho pressing a button on her watch.    

“We’ll wait here. Pick up will be in a few-”    

And suddenly there’s an arm around her neck. Ghost grapples her to the ground and wrestles the gun from her hand. Seizing the opportunity, Zoe reaches for her incapacitating spray and sprays it directly in her attacker’s face. Ping Cho coughs for a moment before falling still.    

“Thanks,” she sighs.    

Ghost nods. “Don’t mention it.” 

A few minutes later, Ping Cho comes to in the van. Her hands and feet are bound together and she has been sat down on a sofa-like chair. She struggles for a moment before realising it’s useless.    

“You’re a pack of idiots. You should have killed me.”    

“Trust me, it can be arranged,” says Salem.

“But let’s try diplomacy first. Why were you trying to kidnap our friend?”    

Ping Cho snorts. “As if I’d just hand over my secrets like that.”    

“Well you don’t work for Jadelight, that’s a start,” says Zoe.

“You had your computer plugged into their servers, what for?”    

“Eat shit.”    

“My god, what a wit she has,” says Salem, sarcastically.

“She could almost go toe to toe with Ghost with that level of charm and charisma.”    

Ghost raises his eyebrows.

“Thanks, fuck you too.”    

“See what I mean? A near identical charm.”    

“My comrades will be after me soon,” says Ping Cho.

“You’d better hope this hunk of crap goes fast.”    

“Hunk of crap?!?” blurts Ghost.    

Salem smiles. “It’s not your day today, is it?”    

“They’re not gonna find you, whoever they are.” says John.

“This thing blocks all sorts of tracking signals. As far as your friends are concerned, you may as well have vanished from the face of the earth.”    

A pause, Ping Cho’s brow furrows a little.    

“Bullshit. Rule one of interrogation, say anything you need to say.”    

“So you took interrogation 101?” Salem smiles.

“Good, that narrows it down.”    

Ghost takes a step closer.

“Look, if you just told us who you’re working for, we could probably help. We’re investigating Leo Chen as well.”    

“...How did you?”    

“We hacked your laptop,” says John, nonchalantly.

“Easy, really.”    

Salem flicks through the contents of the laptop, displayed on the RV’s chief computer monitor.    

“Looks like you were doing the same thing Zoe here was trying to do, though it looks like your plans were spoiled by Zoe’s intrusion. Shame really. Still, between the two of you, you managed to get a complete download.”     

“But that’s impossible! Only federal agents have the tech to…”    

Ping Cho’s eyes widen. She’s said too much.    

“Oh yes,” smiles Salem, evilly. 

“So, you gonna tell us who you’re working for now?” asks Ghost.    

Ping Cho says nothing.    

“You’re not helping yourself,” says John.

“You’re not even helping your comrades now.”    

Still nothing.    

“Ok, fine!” says Salem, frustrated.

“New tactic!”    

He reaches over the armoury and plucks something from the rack.    

“This is a big knife. Tell us what we want to know or I'll cut your fingers off one by one!”

Ping Cho stares at the knife for a moment. Then into Salems eyes. Yeah, he'd really do it.    

“A crude argument… but effective.”

Ping Cho leans back in her chair.

“I’m an agent of the A.I.D, Anomaly Investigation Department, representative of the Communist Party of China and all its liberated provinces.”    

“Ah, so we have an eastern counterpart,” says John.

“SPHINX division always suspected as much.”    

“We’re with the UPU.” says Ghost. “We’re representatives of the-”   

“We know who UPU are.” says Ping Cho.

“That data leak you suffered last year may have slipped past your gullible public, but we took note before your crackdown began.”

She smirks.

“I have to say, I knew you Americans were arrogant, but I didn’t suspect that you’d also be so stupid as to risk a diplomatic incident on this scale. Leo Chen is our problem.”    

“Until he started attacking international diplomats, I’d have agreed with you,” says John.

“But now the whole world’s under threat, so yes, it is our problem.”    

“Look, what are we fighting over?!” cries Zoe.

“We’re working to the same aim, aren’t we?”    

Ping Cho sighs. “Fine. Untie me and I’ll help.”    

Salem laughs. “You think we were lobotomised at birth?”    

“If you can’t trust me, why the hell should I trust you?”    

Zoe grabs the knife from Salem and cuts her ropes. Ping Cho smiles.    

“Thank you.”    

She walks to the computer and the newly expanded group look over their findings. At first it all appears normal, just reams of tax returns, invoices, internal memos, but slowly the layers peel away like onion skin and something bigger reveals itself.    

“What are all these listings?” asks Zoe, pointing to the contents of a file labelled ‘charitable donations.’ John’s brow furrows.

“That’s a lot of unsanctioned payouts.”    

“And so much!” says Zoe.

“Look at this, tens of thousands, millions of dollars!”    

“Not dollars,” murmurs Salem.

“Look, it’s in cryptocurrency.”    

“Jadelight are dealing on the dark web.” whispers Ghost.

“Well, holy shit.”    

“I knew it!” barks Ping Cho, bringing out her phone.

“It maps perfectly!”   

The four look down to see what Ping Cho is referring to.    

“A couple months ago,” she explains.

“The Hong Kong government reported a rise in cases of illegal organ trading. Apparently there’s been a massive surge in demand and no one knows why. I always suspected Jadelight was involved in it, I just never had a proper lead until now, but that name there, on that invoice, that proves it. Morningstar!”    

Ghost’s blood runs cold. He takes a step back, shaking his head.    

“Oh fuck.”    

“What?” asks Zoe.    

“That name...”   

“What? You know it?”    

“You could say that,” he mumbles. “Morningstar is the biggest organisation in the world of contract killing. Came right the fuck outta nowhere and took over the market in just under a year.”    

“They’re assassins?” asks John.    

“No,” Ghost replies.

“They’re more like the middle men, they connect the killers to their clients and only ask for information in return. That’s how they got so big, blackmail is basically their currency.”    

“So they take the risk of hiring the assassin on the client's behalf. That way the client doesn’t leave as big a paper trail,” says Salem.

“And Morningstar gets dirt on everyone involved so they can get ahead.” He nods, almost in admiration.

“Very neat.”    

“But look, it’s not just that!” calls Zoe, bringing the attention back to the screen.

“They’ve been shipping equipment to Morningstar as well. Military-level tech!”    

“Of course,” gasps Ghost. “Phantom! All that tech on her van, it was Jadelight tech!”    

“The van we’re standing in now?” says Salem.

“Oh, lovely.”    

“I stripped most of the Jadelight stuff,” Ghost replies.

“Still…”    John takes a moment to remember the incident with Phantom, every detail as clear as a freshly cut diamond in his mind’s eye.   

“Luc McStarr…”

“What?” says Zoe.    

“That’s who put Mike’s crazy aunt in touch with Phantom. I take it this guy’s related to Morningstar?”    

“He is morningstar.” Ghost confirms.

“A guy so shady no one’s ever even seen him. I don’t know a single person on Earth who has even the slightest bit of info on him other than his name, and even that’s probably fake.”   

“Good thing Mike isn’t here,” nods Zoe.

“He’d be going rambo on them by now…where is he, anyway? Feels like we haven’t seen him in ages.”    

“Dunno,” says John. “We’ve been trying to reach him for ages, but he-”    

“Hold on,” says Salem, raising his hand.

“What’s all this business with assassins got to do with the organ market?”    

“Morningstar does more than just assassins,” says Ping Cho.

“I imagine some of those ‘charitable donations’ are also placing orders for other things.” “What’s been reported?” ask’s John.

“Are any particular organs in demand?”    

“All of them,” says Ping Cho.

“That’s the interesting thing. And I mean, everything, even stuff you wouldn’t think of. It’s not just hearts, lungs and livers - it’s brains, nerves, tendons, veins, arteries. Some poor bastards must be getting all but strip-mined for parts.”    

“Jesus,” Ghost grumbles.

“This is fucked up.”    

“But why?” Zoe wonders.

“What could they possibly want with all that stuff?”    

“Why don’t we find out for ourselves,” says John pointing to the final entry on the screen. “Look, there’s an event listed: pickup of assets, courtesy of Morningstar, tonight at ten.” “Perfect,” Ghost smiles. “Let’s sort this out and get back home.” 

---

In a sterile little room, disgraced former surgeon Callum Miller removes his latex gloves after another successful operation. His assistant, Fang Ling, switches off the surgical lights and swabs his brow with a sponge.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice taking on its usual affect of a perpetual sigh. Only during surgery does he truly come alive.

“You looked nervous that time,” says Fang Ling.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it for a second there!”

“I always ‘make it,’ Ling, that’s why they hired me.”

He looks down at his patient. Yes, well, hardly the most aesthetically pleasing job he’s ever done, but beauty is a small sacrifice to make when you’re routinely breaking the boundaries of what is considered medically possible.

“Are you feeling ok?” he asks.

“Hopefully that liver will keep, but we have another one shipping in soon, just for standby.”

The patient stirs, lifting a hand weakly towards Doctor Miller.

“I…I…”

Miller smiles.

“Well, he still has a strong sense of self, that’s a positive sign.”

A landline phone rings on the adjacent wall. Miller picks up.

“Hello?”

“Is he awake?”

Miller looks over to the patient, slowly stirring on the surgical bed.

“He’s…conscious.”

“Good, put him on.”

“I…don’t think this is the best time for it, Mr Chen. He’s only just begun to recover from a very serious-”

“Put him on.”

“...Yes, Mr Chen.”

Miller brings the receiver - attached to an extremely long chord - over to the patient. He takes it and holds it weakly to his ear.

“Yes…”

“I have a couple more people to deal with. I’m heading over to perform the ritual as we speak. Be prepared to project by nine-thirty.”

“....Very…Well…”

“Good man. I’ll fax you the pictures of the targets. Nothing special with these three, just a basic ‘leave him alone’ will suffice. See you in a bit.”

A click. The line goes dead. Suddenly a fax machine in the corner whirs into life and three blurry images, nabbed from CCTV cameras, emerge. The patient reaches out and Fang Ling helps him to sit up. Doctor Miller hands him the printout and he studies the faces closely, his breathing ragged and slow. Three faces: Ping Cho, Ghost, and Zoe, the three spotted just outside the Jadelight building as their scuffle ensued.

The patient’s eyes widen and his hands begin to shake.

“It’s them…” he rasps. “At last…”

To be continued...