Poddar stared at me for what seemed like a long time, looking increasingly worried. "Mick, are you okay?"
"Never better, Ace. Question is: how are you? Disappearing out the blue, jumping me like I'm some random thug, looking all crazy like the boogeyman is after you — what's got you on edge like this?"
"Conspiracy, Mick. Someone has been quietly taking over the entire infrastructure of this Haven. Eliminating threats when they get in the way, building criminal organizations, forming deadly alliances. If it's not you, then it's Hunter."
I felt a sinking feeling in my gut, remembering the last conversation I had with Hunter. "I'll look into it."
"I'm not kidding, Mick. This is a next-level takeover I'm talking about. Everything hidden, controlled from the shadows. New Haven is about to be under attack, and nobody knows what's coming. I went underground when I realized the level of threat I was dealing with. So you should know that if you get involved, then you could—"
"I said I'll look into it, Poddar. If it's Hunter, then I have to. We're connected, no matter how I'd like to forget it."
"Connected? How?"
"The less you know, the better. I'm serious — it all ties back to the HSSC and Faraday, and you don't wanna go poking that hornet's nest."
"Why? What's it all about anyway?"
"Secrets, Poddar. Secrets about this Haven, about who runs it, about fugitives and stolen tech. Anyone who digs into it winds up dead. That should be enough for you to keep clear of the whole deal. Get out while you still can, Poddar. While you still got people you care about above ground. Because the only thing you're digging at is a mass grave for you and everyone you love — catch my drift?"
"No, I do not catch your drift. I can't just turn a blind eye to what's happening, Mick. You say everyone I love will be hurt. I say everyone will be hurt anyway if I stand by and do nothing."
I sighed, flicking my gasper onto the wet grass. "Okay, Pod. Don't say I didn't warn you. You coming with or not?"
"Where are you going?"
"To see an HSSC agent that showed up uninvited last night. Figure I'll start at the top and go from there."
"What about Hunter Valentino?"
"Not the kind of guy you can just walk in on. I'll have to do some tracking."
"Then I'm not coming with. I'll keep working things on my end. We'll meet up later."
"Suit yourself. Don't point a gun at me next time, Pod. I might not take it so easy on you."
Thrusting my hands in my coat pockets, I turned and walked back toward Maxine. I felt Poddar's eyes on my back the whole time, accusing like the statues that peered at me through the misty rain. Suspicion from Poddar was unfamiliar territory. For maybe the first time since I climbed out of the river with no memory, I felt completely alone.
The Yesteryear was the last place you'd think to find an agent of the HSSC, which was probably the point. Everything about it was conspicuous, reveling in luxury and glamor. Sitting on the waterfront, it offered gorgeous river views, Art Deco architecture and furnishings, and vibrant color palettes. The Gatsby Bar was a decadent setting, ornate with its black and gold interior and fixtures. It was still morning, so precious few people were boozing at the hour. More for me, I figured. I tapped the counter, surprising the barkeep, who looked like he slept in his rumpled suit.
"Bulleit Neat."
Agent Kessler sat down at the bar, leaving one vacant stool between us. "Surely not this early in the morning. Barkeep, replace that order with two black velvets instead."
The bartender was smart enough to wait for my nod of approval before tending to the order. I turned to Kessler. "Helluva thing — canceling a man's drink without his permission. You been making trips to the bar all day or keeping tabs on me?"
"Keeping tabs, of course. Drones over the Gaiden programmed to follow your movements. An amusing throwdown with your old partner, by the way. I'm sure you were holding back."
My face reddened. "Yeah, something like that."
The drinks arrived in flute glasses, champagne and dark stout mixed with a foamy head on top. Not my norm, but wasn't too bad.
Kessler drank half the glass in a single swallow. "I'm surprised you took me up on my offer so soon. I estimated a couple of days, at least."
"Number crunching doesn't work on me, pal. Not unless you're betting on the unexpected."
"So I see. I take it you've been doing some deliberating."
"Not like I had a choice. Everyone's hitting me with bad news all at once. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was planned."
"It's not. Not on my part, anyway. I was straight with you last night, Mike."
"It's Mick."
"Fine — Mick. I was sincere when I said I was here to help you finish your mission. We're behind schedule, but should still be able to find Faraday and his elusive god code."
I finished my black velvet, tapping the bar for a reload. It was pretty good, that drink. "I was sincere when I told you that I'm out the business, Kessler. Thought you'd be smart enough to take the hint."
He smiled as he finished his drink. "If that were true, you wouldn't be here."
I grimaced. "You got me there. Look — they got any grub at this swanky joint? Can't have this kind of convo on just booze. Not at this hour, anyhow."
He gestured to the dining area. "Matter of fact, the brunch is to die for."
A few minutes later, I sat in front of a plate of breakfast hash with chorizo, eggs, and tortillas. Nothing like a good meal to put things into perspective. I ordered another black velvet to accompany the savory dish, and just because I was feeling better, had a glass of water to finish things off. Had to hydrate, after all.
Kessler had a very responsible meal of wheat toast topped with fried eggs, tomatoes, and avocado. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he cleared this throat. "You asked me about Hunter the other night."
"That's right. You looked surprised. Like you heard the name before."
He hesitated, toying with his fork. "I'm going to tell you a story about an agent, Mick. Before my time — before the reformations to the HSSC. Brilliant kid, but damaged. Rough childhood, emotional scars — you know the deal."
I grimaced as the food turned into ash in my mouth. "Yeah, I know the deal."
"The kid grew up to be a top-ranked agent. Did a lot of dirty work — stuff that haunted him, ate at him inside. To compensate, he eventually developed another persona, one capable of handling the pressure. Someone cold, emotionless, devoid of empathy or conscience. When the agent couldn't cope with the stress of his work, he retreated, allowing his second persona to flourish."
Kessler raised his gaze, looking me directly in the eyes. "He even gave the persona a nickname. He called him Hunter."
I paused with my glass half-raised, nearly spilling the booze from my shaky grip. "What the hell are you saying, Kessler?"
"I'm saying that Hunter is the flip side of you, Mike. A personality you developed a long time ago that Faraday somehow separated when he altered your memories. What resulted was dissociative identity disorder, commonly known as a split personality. Common symptoms are complete changes in behavior and memory gaps mistaken for forgetfulness or amnesia. The disorder is usually triggered by severe trauma. Any of this sound familiar? You imagine yourself having abandoned the HSSC while you play this Troubleshooter character, but in reality, you've continued your mission in your Hunter persona, killing anyone who got in your way — even your fellow agents. You murdered Franklin Newman and tried to take Natalie out as well when she failed in her attempt to reboot your memory."
I lurched out of my seat without realizing it, staring at Kessler in shock. The room blurred around him as the adrenaline distorted my vision. "You're crazy. A liar too, because Natalie is dead. I was there when it happened."