AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Conor: BTW, thank you for my ‘I’m a spy’s perfect boyfriend’ mug lol.
*Conor sends photo*
Star: Hahaha. You’re welcome. :*
Star: Oh, Savannah wanted me to tell you that the Israelis are coming to instruct the Five Points next month.
Conor: Yeah, Aidan said. Why’s she telling me via you too?
Star: Fuck knows how Savannah’s mind works. She’s even crazier now that she’s pregnant.
Conor: Lol. True.
Conor: Go back to your launch. It’ll be over soon and you’re making the foundation a fortune.
Star: That’s the only bearable part of all this. *sighs*
Star: :*
Conor: <3
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
Star,
I’m sure you have zero interest in communicating with me after what I did to your mother, but I owe you a debt of gratitude and Aoife was telling me this week about how little closure you’ve gotten with everything that happened to your mom.
I’ve been following you in the press, watching you and Conor O’Donnelly strip the world of scum, and I read about that shooting incident in DC where you were targeted…
The papers said it was a close call. I asked Aoife and she said it was closer than close.
It got me thinking—they never tell you that old age makes you introspective—and here I am, writing you a letter at three AM.
Look, these may just be rumors, and as Jorgmundgander operatives, we definitely weren’t given all the details, but the Jorgmundgander base was up in Scotland. A place called Lockerbie. Does the name ring any bells? If it doesn’t, in 1988, there was a bombing up there in a plane. Random place for that kind of shit to happen, don’t you agree?
The whole thing was a tragedy, as things in this line of business often are.
Back in ‘88, I heard about it and pinned it on the New World Sparrows. It was one of many reasons why I started getting, shall we say, incendiary.
Barely ten years later, I was approached by Jorgmundgander while rotting away in a prison cell, running the ECD from there with help from some guards who were allies, and I figured it was a way to keep on taking down Sparrows and it’d enable me to run the ECD better.
I enlisted, never realizing I was signing my fucking soul away to the people who orchestrated worse acts of violence against the public than Hitler or Mussolini could ever come up with.
Anyway, I didn’t send this to salvage my conscience. I’m already fucked when I meet Peter at his pearly gates. What I wanted to tell you was a story.
You ask any Jorgmundgander operative and they’ll tell you that training includes learning of anecdotes about past missions that went awry or variants on that—they’re shaped like exercises but they’re warnings.
So, one day during training, when I’m starting to realize what I signed up for, they talked about this ex-operative who ‘tried’ to stop a sanctioned bombing that, allegedly, was supposed to trigger political strife between an African nation and the West.
The ex-operative failed, of course, and the bombing went ahead and people died as, and I quote, people are wont to do.
I never thought much of it afterward. There were more stories, worse than that, and I started my time as an operative for them, getting kills under my belt and days knocked off my sentence. I’d sold my soul to the fucking devil, but it was helping me work with the ECD, coordinate attacks on the English and the Sparrows and such, so I carried on.
A death was a day knocked off my sentence; sometimes a kill was important enough to earn myself a week.
Deaths became time served and that was my one focus.
I always knew why I’d been approached, not just because of my skills, but because the US has never not had an interest in liberating Ireland.
