PERFECTION: Brotherhood

Chapter 8: Shadows of the Past 2/ Arrival in Munich

"It all began five years ago when the four of us were a family: Father, Mother, Markos, and myself. Together, we lived a life filled with happiness and contentment.

My father, Millize, was one of Russia's most influential men then. Despite his high-ranking position as an officer of the Main Directorate, he preferred to maintain a humble lifestyle. Our home may not have been a mansion, but it was filled with love and integrity. He staunchly refused bribes from his superiors, prioritizing the nation's security above all else.

He often shared his worldview with the two of us, Markos and me. Despite our young age, Father instilled in us profound wisdom beyond our years. He had a unique philosophy regarding perfection, viewing it as something elusive and unattainable, akin to emptiness. Despite this, he believed in the importance of striving for excellence in all endeavors. Father's teachings were invaluable, imparting knowledge and insights that most could not fathom learning in a lifetime.

He taught us numerous techniques to sharpen our intellectual prowess, including the Mind Palace technique. Despite our innocence as children, Father imparted his knowledge to us, exposing us to the world's harsh realities. His teachings transformed us, forever altering our perceptions and understanding of life's complexities

And then there was another man, the one who stripped everything from us. He was none other than the 21st Century's most notorious fraudster, Slavoj Moldova, the leader of the Main Intelligence Directorate—the same agency my father worked for. Both of them were associates.

He conspired against my father to gain social influence, abusing his rank and leveraging his cunning tactics to ascend to the pinnacle of power. This pinnacle of power grants him the ability to wield unchecked authority. He holds the capability to single-handedly dismantle the current government of Russia at will, instilling fear across the nation. That man was once my father's closest confidant. My father's gravest error was placing unwavering trust in him.

That night remains etched in my memory forever. The four of us were gathered for dinner when a sudden knock interrupted our meal. My father rose to answer the door, only for tragedy to unfold before our eyes. In an instant, he collapsed on the doorstep, struck down by a fatal gunshot. Before we could comprehend what was happening, my mother met a similar fate, mercilessly taken from us right before our eyes.

Tears streaming down my cheeks, I leaped out of the window, fleeing into the night with no destination in mind. With each step, the echoes of gunfire and the haunting memories of that horrific moment chased me, compelling me to run faster. As I glanced back, the scene of devastation etched itself into my mind, a painful reminder of the loss and tragedy that had shattered our family.

"What happened next?" Caith's voice broke the cabin's silence. Markov glanced at the window, the passing scenery a backdrop to his thoughts. Memories flooded his mind, but he remained silent, lost in contemplation.

"We are here," Markov asserts, as the signboard for entering the main city of Munich comes into view.

As the train finally reaches the station, Caith and Markov step onto the mainland, embarking on their journey to find Mr. Luther.

Arriving at a hotel, they stand by the entrance. Caith asks Markov, "Do you even have money?" "I'll have it by tomorrow," Markov asserts confidently as he steps inside the hotel.

With a sinking feeling, Caith waits outside, fully expecting Markov to return empty-handed. "No way they're letting a minor book a room, let alone a freak like him," she mutters to herself, resigned to the inevitable outcome.

After a few minutes of waiting, Caith grew bored and decided to venture inside curiously. To her surprise, there was no sign of Markov. Approaching the counter, she inquired, "Have you seen a boy my age?" The counter-lady responded, "Oh, you must be Ms. Caith, right? Your brother is waiting for you in room 610."

Without further questions, Caith decided to visit the room. 

Knock, knock. "Come in." 

Caith entered the room to find Markov seated at a laptop. "How did you book a room?" 

"I'll explain later. Take the keys from my jacket." 

"So, you booked a separate room as well." 

Markov nodded without looking back. 

Caith began to search for the jacket Markov had mentioned.

Soon, Caith realized that Markov had his jacket on the whole time. 

"Silly, you're wearing the jacket. Give me the keys," she exclaimed. 

"Please take it yourself," Markov insisted, claiming he was too busy. 

"Fine," Caith sighed, reaching into his pocket. Caith found the key and an interesting object. 

"A phone? I didn't see it before," she thought to herself, lost in her thoughts. 

"Hello? Did you find the key? You can take your hand out now," Markov said, breaking her reverie.

Caith went to her room. Before leaving, she glanced at the laptop. "How did he manage a laptop?" she wondered to herself but didn't dwell on it. She observed Markov studying some sort of map, assuming he was just curious about the city. Without dwelling too much on it, she exited the room and jumped onto her bed, relishing the comfort.

The scene transitions to a middle-aged man smoking a cigar, seated at his office desk. 

Suddenly, the landline beside him rings. 

"Hello?" the man answers. 

"Mr. Homer, the target is in the city. We will raid his room tomorrow at sharp 8 a.m." 

"Good, I will inform the FBI right away."

Mr. Homer hangs up the phone, leaving the landline hanging on the table. 

"Hello? Hello?" there's no response. 

Quickly, Mr. Homer gets his suit, preparing for the hunt. 

"Emma, get the car ready. I'll catch the Russian Rat myself."