Agent Atlantis

Chapter 11--Mole Hunting

"Luke," Collins greeted, "What a surprise."

"It really isn't," Luke said flatly.

His annoyed tone was justified. His mood only worsened as he noticed the five pure white couches arranged in front of a plasma screen TV in the center of the office. Close to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows was Collins' desk, which was long enough to house three twenty-inch monitors, as well as ample space to have a four-person meeting—now overpopulated with various food items and desserts that made Luke's mouth water. Cold air blew from roof vents, and Luke wondered when he'd suffered so much to regard AC as a luxury.

On a normal day, he'd have been elated to be called to such a comfy office space. But he hadn't expected to be summoned via the rusty megaphone on the side of the library building, crusty with something gross.

"Everyone heard your announcement," Luke groaned, covering his face with his hands. "You should've seen them. They thought I was getting kicked out of the EAUD on the first day or something. They're going to think of me as a loser."

Collins just laughed. "Don't they already think of you like that?" He cleared his throat nervously as Luke shot him a deadly glare. He pushed a plate of chocolate cake toward the boy as a sign of peace. "Listen, that's a good thing. It's the best state to go investigating in."

Coming from the guy who's living his life with the rich, Luke thought as he took a bit of the cake; it was delicious. Should I just take his office space?

As if he knew what Luke was thinking, Collins quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, did you see anyone suspicious after that rude welcome?"

"Almost everyone was throwing insults, so no one yet." Luke paused, the confrontation with Jerry appearing from the depths of his memory. "Come to think of it, there was one person . . ." He told Collins about the encounter.

The captain listened carefully. "That's concerning. EAUD students should have no say over what happens in the admissions tests—especially this time."

" . . . What do you mean?" Luke asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"I put you down as my special admission. That's the only way to get you into the agency this late in the year."

Luke groaned. "Are you trying to ruin my chances at living a normal life?"

"Rather than worrying about that, I'd be focused on surviving this last test if I were you, Mr. I-got-a-four-percent."

"I literally got my results half-an-hour ago," Luke said. "How on earth have you already been informed of that?"

"Privacy is not a concern among spies."

"Yeah, well it should be. But since it's not, tell me everything about my next test." Luke looked at him expectantly, actually listening to the instructions for the first time in his life.

"Why you little . . . fine. You'll be going against opponents in our sparring arena—"

"Yeah, I'm already bored," Luke interjected.

"But you're the person who asked me . . ."

"I thought it would be another one of those stupid history exams. But if it's sparring, that's a whole different story. You don't have to worry about me." Luke grinned. "I'll get into the EAUD, find that mole, and return to my family."

" . . . I'll make sure one of my trusted colleagues supervises you," Collins said.

"Hey, you're not listening to me, are you?"

"Listen, Luke, this part of the admissions test is when the majority of students fail—and since it's midterm time, you'll be facing more experienced ones. Besides, hunting the mole isn't going to be that easy."

"Forget the test for now. We don't even have any leads on the mole," Luke agreed. "There's no point in any of this . . ."

He trailed off as he saw Collins' hesitating expression. "You're hiding something from me, right? Spit it out before I make you." Of course, he didn't say the last part. Barely.

Collins grabbed his own slice of cake for himself—vanilla. He chewed on a bite thoughtfully. "After I got that information about the mole from the Agency, I decided to investigate the matter on my own."

"And . . . ?"

"And I figured out that some of the applications this year were fake—at least more than five. And the admissions officer in charge of them didn't even blink an eye."

"That's great!" Luke exclaimed. "One must be the mole, and the others are diversions. So, who are the students?"

Collins shook his head. "It's a dead end."

"That can't be possible. Forging something at the governmental level is serious—"

"They killed her, Luke." Collins voice cracked, but he quickly recovered. "The admissions officer that did it. And they made sure to destroy anything traceable. Trust me—I've done everything I could."

It was obvious that the officer meant something to the captain. Maybe not someone super close—but that meant that Collins' support circle had shrunken.

Luke quietened down. "Let me see the body."

"No. You're just a boy—"

"Have you forgotten who you're talking about?"

Luke locked eyes with the captain. In his pupils, Collins saw a wall devoid of any emotions. Death did not seem to bother the boy.

As he thought back to Luke's actions in West Artena, Collins realized that it wasn't right to judge Luke by the typical standards. He had matured way too quickly—and ignoring that would be disrespectful.

"Alright," Collins acquiesced. "I'll notify you when you can see her. The board is still working on moving her from her home confidentially. Trusted people are hard to come by these days since . . . you know, the war."

He checked his watch. Eight in the evening. "It's getting late. How about you get out?"

"I still haven't finished my cake," Luke complained. In reality, he wanted to spend as much time in the AC as he could. East Artenian nights weren't much better than their mornings—and he had a feeling that the dorm rooms would not assist in countering that.

"Yeah, but I've finished mine."

As if on cue, the door burst open and two guards walked in. They hooked their arms through Luke's shoulders and dragged him toward the door.

"Wait—" Luke tried.

"Have a great night!" Collins said cheerfully, waving goodbye.

The door shut, and Luke's protests fell silent.