Agent Undra: The Journal

Where Are You, God?

I've broken laws. I've lied, cheated and stole. You'd do the same thing if you were in my position. Maybe you wouldn't, I don't exactly know you. You've obviously found my journal. Who knows? Some smart man probably turned this dusty old thing into a book and it's on sale at your local bookstore. I'm.. ugh.. I don't know. Who am I? What have I become? I had one mission, I just had to carry it out. I couldn't do it. Kill my own brother? The W.I.B really got me deep on this one. I couldn't kill my own brother. He's no terrorist. He was in the Air Force for godsake. He was a Master Sergeant. Sure, he was dishonerably discharged. That doesn't make him a terrorist. I don't understand why the W.I.B would assign me this mission. I love my brother, they know I would do anything for my family. For my- my mom. Mom. God bless her soul. Such a beautiful woman. Is my father still in that coma? How long has it been? It's been like  a year. Have they taken him off of life support yet? Not like I'd be able to know. The W.I.B has cut me off from all outside contact. I'm supposed to meet up with a W.I.B Operative. He's supposed to give me the documents I need to make the transaction with my brother. That's when I'm supposed to strike. I told him I had something I needed to deliver. The poor guy happily insisted I come over. The W.I.B wants me to make it look like an 'accident.' Police would suspect suicide and not investigate any further. Within those documents? A suicide note; what else you may ask? Blueprints for this demonic device. Why would I do this? Why would I attempt to portray my brother as some- some psychopath? He's not the psychopath in this family. I almost killed him once, I almost killed him a second time, I'd almost killed him this third time. I was just in the same room with him, standing there; gun in the pack of my pants. Safety on. The W.I.B screaming through my earpiece. "Kill him! Kill him! Agent Undra, what are you doing? You weak piece of crap, kill him already!" They'd gotten tired of waiting. They busted through the windows of his lab. He escaped, I stopped the W.I.B from killing him. I saved him. Kyle jumped out the window, I was praying he made it out alive. I don't remember when. He had to start from scratch on his "secret project" he's working on. He knows that the W.I.B is after them. What he doesn't know is that I am the man with the plan to end his life. The question is, do I? What am I saying? No! Never! I can't kill him no matter how grand the reward. He'd relocated himself to some other country. This isn't some popular country we're dealing with here, either. Canada? America? Mexico? Germany, something? No, too easy. Welcome to Kowloau; an island of isolation just off the coast of Chile. He set up base in the trees of this forest-ridden country.   He doesn't know about this 'job' of mine, let alone the mission. My brother, Kyle Undra, a world renown scientist and my best friend. The man that the world suspects is plotting on "destroying the world." "A super-weapon," the W.I.B. claims. It's capable of wiping out a planet larger then Neptune. Things like that aren't real, like, really?  You only hear about things like that in movies and books; the media.  Even if things like that are possible, Kyle would never try to "destroy the world." Whatever. I've told them I'm not killing my brother. They're blackmailing me. My secrets. I don't care if they expose me as a fraud. Maybe this is a test. Are they trying to test my loyalty? I'd rather be an unloyal man then a murderer. I signed up for this service to retrieve and deliver intel; I didn't sign up for this to shoot my own brother in the gosh darn face. I've always been a man of faith but for some reason I can't seem to find God now. Where are you, God?