Chapter 1|Home Sweet Stress
It was 2 weeks after my cousin was killed by Gingeraan Aleena, The no-good international fugitive that I was tracking down. It was a normal Monday at the office when I got the message. I called Dylan down to my office and explained that we were to be leaving in a week. The mission before us was going to be long and hard. We were to travel to Moldovo, where Aleena was suspected of hiding out.
While he was in my office, my phone rang. It was my brother, Bario. We spoke very quickly; He explained to me that Tsamanta’s funeral was supposed to be on Wednesday. After we hung up, Dylan asked me what was wrong, and I explained that I had to go home for a couple days, that my brother needed me for the funeral.
I hadn’t been home in over 10 years, so this was going to be a challenge in itself. I haven’t spoken Crayolan regularly since my departure. Either way, I had to go home. I went home that night, and packed. I booked a flight for the next day. My flight to Scadinavia was going to be long and tiring. I was to leave Inkeydink at 4 in the morning to be Pittsburgh International by 5AM. My flight was supposed to leave at 7, but I had a 30 minute delay.
After 14 hours, the pilot finally announced that we were descending into Scandi City. When I emerged into the main airport, my brother, mother and sister were waiting for me. I walked up to them. My mother hugged me tight and whispered “Benvinita a coma” which means “Welcome Home.”
By brother shook my hand, and told me “Welcome home, brother,” and my sister jumped up and hugged me. We walked down the main corridor to the baggage claims, and my siblings couldn’t stop asking me about America. Finally my mother said, “Quiet. Your brother is trying to adjust to being home.”
Truth is, it wasn’t that I was adjusting, it’s just that it’s a little akward, because everyone stared at me. Being part of the royal family comes with it’s advantages, but being known as a “runaway prince” isn’t well accepted. Actually, the last time I spoke with my mother or father was 2 years ago when they came to visit me.
The 15 minute ride home was amazing. It seems so different than what I remember. Posters were up all over the place for the election of the Prime Minister. When we got home, my father was waiting. I walked up to him, and said “Hello, Father.” He looked at me, grabbed my hand, then hugged me and said, “Kulen, I am so glad you came home.”
I never expected a reaction like this from my father. He very seldom gets emotional like that. Even my mother was surprised. When I walked inside, my Aunt Goyséa and Uncle Kaebio were sitting on the couch, crying. I teared up. I walked over and hugged each of them. It was hard.
After comforting them for a little while, I walked upstairs and walked into my room. It hadn’t changed a bit. I set my bags on my bed, and my dog Maguí walked into my room. I bent down and petted her. I missed her so much. I didn’t even know that she was still alive.
The next morning was the funeral. It was so difficult. I cried all day. By the time of the wake I figured I’d give Dylan a call.
“Hello,” he awnsered.
“Hey, it’s Kulen. I’m just calling to check in, and I wanted to see what was going on.”
“Nothing,” he said, “everything is slow. I just checked in on your office like you said to. Everything’s good.”
“Good. Ok, listen, I’ll be back tomorrow. Start packing, because we leave Saturday.”
“Alright. See ya.”
The flight back to the states was even harder. Bario dumped a whole bunch of crap on me before I left. It wasn’t fair. I knew I shouldn’t have gone home, but I’m not going to let it bother me. Now I know why I left; to get away from it all.
The descent into Pittsburgh and the drive to Inkeydink was so soothing, knowing that this is where I belong.
I finally got to my office at 5PM, and Dylan was still working. When I walked into my office, I felt a sudden surge of emotion. I sat down and cried. I felt horrible. I felt like I betrayed my family and my whole country. I knew that I wasn’t going to go home, because I had an important mission set to begin the next day.
Dylan walked into my office and asked me what was wrong and I waved him off. He welcomed me home, and walked out. I grabbed a few things and got ready to leave. I walked out of my office, and went home, and packed for what could’ve been the longest mission of my career.
Chapter 2| Moldovo
The flight to Moldovo was Long. 18 Hours long to be precise. The weather in Monassus was, as it always is, warm and sunny. The last time I was here was when I was 8. My mother and father had a business trip here, and since I was the only one older than 4 I got to go. The Moldovan capital, Monassus, hasn’t changed since the mid 90s. Only one thing. I don’t speak Moldovan. Luckily, I speak Crayolan, which will pretty much get you just about anywhere here.
It was 8AM by the time we arrived at the hotel. We were exhausted. We got in and slept until 3 in the afternoon. When I woke up, I walked over to the TV, and turned it on. I went through several drawers and finally found a channel guide. I turned on the Crayolan News Network, and they were just starting a news story on Gingeraan. They mentioned us a few times in it, but they were saying how he is thought to be hiding in the mountains that are just west of Monassus. They were wrong. Of course, we had real Intelligence from the Moldovan Foreign Intelligence Agency, and we knew that he was hiding somewhere here in Monassus.
That afternoon we went down to the US Embassy in the Northern section of town, and we got briefed on what we were to do. It was supposed to be very simple, follow him from where he is currently working to his apartment, and arrest him. Unfortunately, as these things go, it wasn’t that simple.
We left in an unmarked FIA car, which wasn’t fun considering that Moldovans drove on the Left side of the Road. We arrived at his work at about quarter to six that evening, fifteen minutes before his shift was to end. It was a very small coffee shop, not far from downtown. Sure enough, he walked out at 6 o’clock and we proceeded to follow him. We followed him for about 15 minutes, all the way to the East Side of Monassus, before he finally got out and walked into his apartment. We got out. The moment I had been waiting for was finally coming. It was time for Gingeraan Aleena to be brought to justice.
Chapter 3|Just-desserts
When we walked up to the door, Dylan rang the doorbell only to get No Awnser. I told him to go around back, and I then pounded on the door, and when he opened it, he was just as shocked as I was. He dropped everything and ran. I aimed my gun at his foot, and fired one shot. He went down like a dead tree. He wasn’t seriously injured, he just couldn’t walk. I walked up to him, and punched him right in the face. I said, “Remember Me?”
The look on his face was smug. “How could I not,” he replied, smug, “Agent Murgen, Leader of the IIA. It’s been awhile.”
I smacked the look off his face. “You lying, disgusting, Yantean Tregotzi* ! I should kill you where you stand. Luckily, the law forbids it. You’re under arrest.”
I put him in the car while Dylan called for backup. I told Dylan to wait here for the Moldovan police, and that I would take him. The ride to the US embassy wasn’t far, but I passed it up.
“Where are you taking me,” he had the nerve to ask. I ignored him, and pulled into the Scandinavian embassy, and signaled the guard. I told him to find my cousin, Jioni. When Jioni came out, I told him who Gingeraan was. We talked shortly, and we arranged a military plane to take the 4 of us back to the states: Dylan, Gingeraan, Jioni and I. I couldn’t wait to get home.
Chapter 4- Keep Your Friends close, but Your Enemies Closer
Ever since the day my team was called to start investigating into what would turn out to be the whole Gingeraan Aleena case in Villa City, I was looking towards the moment of capturing the criminal and bringing him to justice. All day, during the trials, I realized that Gingeraan wasn’t the same man I had started chasing a month ago. He Looked aged. He was hard as stone, and cold as ice. He didn’t speak. He just stared into space.
Finally, during the intermission, me and Dylan went into the room with the Head Prosecutor, and discussed possible prisons to send Aleena to when he was found guilty. I then flashed back to my 10th grade history class, and got an idea.
When we went back into the courtroom for the verdict, I was smiling with pride. The judge came in, and he motioned for the jury to give their verdict. One of the jurors rose and said in a loud, clear voice, “We the Jury find the defendant, Gingeraan Aleena, guilty on all counts and charges.”
Finally, the moment of my life had come. Gingeraan would be kept for the next 30 years in the basement prison cell in the IIA base building. There, we could really keep an eye on him, because I’ve learned to keep my enemy as close as humanly possible.
*Please note that Tregotzi is an offensive Crayolan racial slur against Yanteans. It's meaning is similar to the N***** word.
