Before the hearth flames were grey stones, the kind with a tinge of black. Charles imagined the stain would be forever in there, becoming one with the bricks. As the warm hues of the fireplace spread, he would see the orange glows, and reds that flickered over them.
In the living room, he was sitting all by himself on a single couch in front of the fireplace, already with his wool shawl wrapping around his shoulders and upper body, seeming warm to the touch of the heated air. It was his favorite spot to be alone, sinking into his thoughts, whatever they may be. There was something about the fire and the sound of coals crackling that soothed him as he watched the night.
"Cooking the government's love letters, Lieutenant?"
Breaking the immense silence was Altin by the door, stooping down so as not to collide with the upper frame due to his unusual height. From the moment he found Charles there, he was sure the lieutenant was so preoccupied with his activity even he didn't notice the door was pulled open.
Altin proceeded to walk into the room, putting this long and huge bag down his shoulder; a sniper drag bag, and laying it on a desk in the corner.
"It's paramount to leave no traces," Charles finally replied, undisturbed with his intruder. He was still nonchalantly throwing letters into the fireplace to burn them down.
"We're loved by them, aren't we?" Altin turned his head to Charles and smiled. A smile that was rather forced and... sad.
This time, Charles didn't return the sarcasm. He stayed quiet until he threw the last sheet of the papers he had been holding into the blazing reds.
Not being returned, Altin pulled his gaze back to his bag, awkwardly checking on his rifle and the sniper equipment - although there was nothing wrong with them - as his attempt to melt the dense atmosphere didn't work.
He knew what those letters were about; the conscious volition to dismiss the organization if the last given mission failed. And he also knew Charles had read them all. It explained why the leader of Green Organization; a person who actually smiles a lot, looked jaded.
Such a situation was the one Charles hated the most, with the mission underway, the government, his deteriorating health due to chronic lung disease - everything. He wanted so much to change the situation, at least, not to be this miserable, but couldn't. And what he hated even more, he could only rely on his only sent agent, his son, Angelo.
He still remembers the farewell that occurred exactly five years and nine months ago in the room he is sitting in right now. In that same room too, many memories have been created, most of them are beautiful, but somehow he could only recall the painful ones. That ash-colored wall is the only eyewitness of what happened in the past, yet it shows almost nothing to play now.
"Did you hear anything from Anna?" Charles made a sound after a long pause, his voice spread concern.
"Anna not saying anything means Angelo is alive," Altin answered, knowing what Charles wanted to hear.
"What?" Charles flinched in his seat with different perception. "Of course, he is alive... Huh? What did you mean by that? My son is alive, right? I know he is alive! Say!"
The old man who will turn seventy next year shrieked at the younger one, his bare emotions leaving the backdrop funny. He had lost his cool for the most trivial thing, neglecting his composure even.
"Lieutenant, you always tend to dramatize everything when it comes to your kids," Altin sighed. For him, the kid here is Charles himself.
He left his sniper gears and came to the oldest Verde, standing close enough to him and also to be able to feel the warmth the fireplace radiated.
"Such a loyal boy," Altin continued. "He's been so faithful he never takes his bracelet off of his wrist, not even once since you gave it to him on his first birthday. And thanks to Anna who has been doing her best to master programming, we could track him down just by that bracelet."
"Still, he isn't by any chance-" Charles cut, reluctant to let his wild thoughts get the best of him, and yet he still couldn't help it. "You know, father's instinct and all..."
"For crying out loud, Lieutenant, he's no longer the seven-year-old boy you picked from the shelter," Altin groaned in annoyance. "Instead, he's been doing a lot better lately."
Everyone knows that's the way Charles is - what Altin could have done? No matter how big the body grows, for Charles, Angelo and Anna are forever his small babies.
"It's been nearly six years since he left, tumbling down the underworld, settling with Fillan Torrelei who wasn't any better than a beast, and now being trampled under the third generation of Yerevan..."
Even with a somber tone, Charles was finally willing to accept the reality.
"He's doing his best... Should I help him with the undercover too?"
"Over my dead body," Altin balked. "Angelo meeting with an old man wouldn't sound right. Moreover, he was working with the old man Torrelei before. It would be too suspicious."
"Don't include me with that kind of old man, Altin. I'll get mad."
"It would make more sense if he met someone around his age. A woman would be great, but you'll never let Anna do it, even though she would love to go."
"They're both my kids, yet I can't let them meet... Ironic, isn't it?"
"We're short of agents. This time, too, we have no choice but to let the boys do their best."
"I guess we-"
Trimming away the conversation, the door was pushed open and a figure came into view, stealing both Charles and Altin's attention, wondering who entered the room without advance notice. Then, it was Aakash, walking in a hurry.
"Senior wants to meet me this Friday evening."
He had started talking before he even stopped walking, his breathing was fast, creating such warm puffs within the low temperature. There was a suppressed quiver in his voice, the thrill in it made it obvious that he was almost excited.
Before Charles and Altin reacted to the information Aakash brought in, Anna dashed into the room with her laptop to join them. She was the one who caught the signal and told Aakash to spread the news while she made sure about the details.
It'd been a while since the last time she got a notification. Thinking about what Angelo had been up to showed her the big picture of what he'd been through; the mission and all. And each time, she couldn't stop the gloom that engulfed her as she realized she didn't know how long she would have to wait before she could see him again.
She put her laptop on the desk beside Altin's drag bag and started working with the portable computer. Her thin and long fingers skillfully danced above the keyboards, creating a quick tapping sound. She was so focused she even forgot to ask for a chair.
"Any details?" Charles asked his daughter shortly.
"Five years older, a business suit, a man's perfume, and..."
Anna paused to let the time pass her. She had a feeling everyone would find it hard to believe what she would have to say, but she couldn't carry the guilt of making the others wait any longer, either.
"A hotel room."
The house fell silent after the continuity of her words, filling the empty gap of each passing second was an absence of the sound. The other three looked pretty much confused, but none of them said anything. Altin stole a glance at Charles to learn his reaction, but to his surprise, he seemed so calm. Too calm.
"He'd never chosen such flashy places like a hotel to meet," Charles responded truthfully, his demeanor tranquil. "It needs a reservation, which later will only leave some trace... I wonder what's happening."
After finished talking, Charles dragged his impassive gaze from his daughter to the fireplace again. Altin approached Anna who was trapped in her own dismay, checking the shown codes on the fourteen-inch screen.
"The change of course could have only meant he's currently planning something big," Altin reckoned. "And risky."
At first, he seemed like he tried to clear the murky ambience, but he chose to face the truth because what he read was exactly just as what Anna told.
"He's the type of person who hates such a sharp turn," Charles already sniffed something fishy.
"Who knows," Altin shrugged in the end. "Maybe, he's becoming more mature."
"Angelo is brave," Anna split the unsettling air in an outright voice.
Everyone in the room looked at her immediately in silence and she turned away awkwardly, realizing she shouldn't have blurted her mind out. It wasn't like they disagreed with what she said about Angelo, though.
"How about Claude?" Charles resumed the discussion.
"Claude is a big help, but I believe Senior wants me to go by myself this time," Aakash was convinced.
"It would be just the two of you like the last time, then."
"In that dank alleyway, yes. Except for Aakash should wear a suit and look five years older than Angelo this time," Altin added. "And what on earth is with the perfume? It's so rare of him to ask for something like that for the undercover."
"I'm fine with it," Aakash didn't mind. "I'll become whatever Senior Angelo wants if it means I can help him."
The room was quiet again. This time, the decision had most likely been made.
Charles scooped some coals from a box and threw them to the fireplace to refill it.
"Lieutenant, Anna will be preparing your medicine so please go to your room as soon as possible."
Knowing what Charles might have done; staying up late, Altin tried to stop him by reminding him about the necessary routine he hates the most; medication.
With that, Altin was the first to leave the room, followed by Anna a moment later, going straight to his father's room with the duty.
After a while, only Aakash and Charles remained in the living room. Somehow, Aakash could tell Charles might have something to tell him and so he stayed.
"Aakash," Charles called, turning the expectation Aakash had into reality.
"Yes, Lieutenant," Aakash was ready to hear it.
"I remember, you told me Angelo looked skinnier the last time you saw him, didn't you?"
"Yes. That's right."
"Was there any wound on his body?"
"I'm afraid I won't be able to answer that," Aakash regrettably said, totally clueless about the matter. "Sorry."
"No, no, you're not the one to say sorry. I am," the older somehow felt more guilty for the question.
"Senior is willing to take the pain all by himself for us, for this organization, and it bothers me constantly," the younger honestly expressed. "If he could lean on us just a little bit more, it would have been great..."
Charles could see the worry. He could relate. He was worried, but he believed in Angelo's abilities and his passion. If anyone could do that mission, it was him, so he had to go.
Charles had to let him go.
By the serenity of the night, the fire curled and swayed above the hearth, flicking this way and that, crackling as they burned the dry coals, casting long shadows over the rug. The tiny fiery sparks blazed so soundly, flashing an orange reflection in the twisted fragments.
"Since hotel is such an apt place, can you just strip him and see if there's any wound on his body?" Charles suddenly came up with that absurd idea, catching Aakash off guard.
"Lieutenant! Don't you know how scary he can be when he's mad at me? I won't be able to come back alive!"
"Hahaha!"