"Everything okay, doctor?" Larson asked as Clint stepped out of the V.I.P room. "You were in there for quite long. Is Mr. Hodges okay?"

Clint's face was parchment pale. But he kept his expression normal. "He is fine." He nodded. "I'm done for the day, I'll be heading out now. The nurses and Raymond are more than enough to keep running things smoothly." He stepped away before Larson could question him further.

Clint went back to the common room, retrieved his holdall from the locker and left the hospital building from the back door. The crowd of devotees were still at the main gate. There were even more of them now, probably.

The moment he was out on the road, he took off running, not caring about looking suspicious to the steel heads anymore. He had to get out of here quickly. He had to get to the Moon's Edge.

He hailed for a cab who got him to the pub in fifteen minutes while Clint wished he'd got there in ten. He rushed through the front door.

Harry was still behind the bar. "I wasn't expecting you this early." The bartender frowned. "In fact, you shouldn't be here at all righ–"

"Forget it, Harry!" Clint snapped, stepping up to the bar and leaning in close. "This is a lot more important!"

"What do you mean?"

"I have to talk to Watcher. Myself."

Harry stared at the doctor, bewildered. "You must be kidding. Don't you know? Watcher doesn't meet–"

"I told you none of it matters!"

"Doctor, I can't do that. You need to tell me something at least."

Clint groaned. He wanted pull his own hair out and slap Harry in the face at the same time. He refrained. He took a deep breath. "I can't tell you everything. But I'll tell you one thing. Pass this message over to Watcher. Eli Hodges is not our enemy."

"What?!"

"You heard me. Go tell that to Watcher. If he wants further explanation, tell him to come see me himself," Clint said. "I wanna tell him what happened myself. I don't trust anyone else right now."

#

Clint sat alone at the bar while Harry had excused himself to a room in the back--apparently making calls--trying to heed to the unfair demand Clint had made of him. I'm the worst spy ever, that's all Clint could think. He'd made the worst decision in the situation. He'd went off the script, 'broke the character', Marie would've said. But he had already come too far now. There was no turning back from here. This was going to change the entire direction of their mission. Heck this was going to change the direction of the revolution.

Harry came back from the room. "I didn't take any responsibility for your actions, doctor. Cuz it's not my job. You better have a very good reason to obstruct a mission like this. Or else you and your family are gonna be in a world of trouble."

"Okay, Captain Obvious. Tell me what did Watcher say? Is he coming?"

"Yes. He is already on his way. Better start preparing your case, doc. You have a ton of explaining to do to him."

#

It wasn't what Clint had expected. Watcher didn't arrive in a luxury car at all. Not a fancy convertible, not an intimidating SUV, but a nondescript sedan. It actually made sense Watcher drove around in this thing. This was perfect for maintaining low profile.

The car rolled up in the alley behind the pub. Harry escorted Clint to the back and held the passenger door open for him. Clint climbed in. The car windows were tinted and there was a partition curtain between the front seats and the back.

"Mr. Clint Harris," a voice said from behind the curtain, the voice was smooth as silk. It was the first time Clint was hearing his real name in a while. "I've heard you made Harry very nervous. The poor man was bumbling throughout the series of calls he had to make to reach me. That's what my other subordinates told me."

Clint said nothing. There was something about that voice. Despite the painfully polite tone in which Watcher spoke, there was something intimidating about the way he talked. It was a voice that made you shut up and listen.

"I really can't care less about what troubles Harry or even you for that matter," Watcher said. "It's rather the statement that you made that got my attention. 'Eli Hodges is not our enemy.' Why would you say that, Clint?"

"Hodges is ready to help us take down the First Leader," Clint said.

The car was silent for a long time. Then the voice behind the curtain just uttered two words: "Keep talking."

#

Two hours ago.

"You're working for the Last Hand, aren't you?" the old man said, casting the hard unblinking gaze at Clint, his bony hand clutching the doctor's wrist like a shackle.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Clint tried to free himself.

"Don't mess with me, boy," the old man said. "I'm old. Not senile. I know you work for the Last Hand. Whatever's in that injection, was probably meant to sedate me further so you can kidnap me."

Clint was bewildered at the assessment. Eli kept talking.

"It certainly isn't meant to kill me," he said. "If you wanted to kill me, that gunman could've taken better aim. This wasn't the first time I survived a gunshot while on stage. That man who shot me could've easily killed me if he wanted to. It was easy from that range. He missed on purpose. So I'm asking again, you're working for the Last Hand, aren't you?"

Clint was flabbergasted and unsure of how he was going to deal with this situation. He tried to play dumb again. He tried to free himself again. "You need to lie down, Mr. Hodges. The sedatives still haven't worn off–"

"Would you drop the act?" the old man's grip tightened. "It's for your own benefit. After all, I'm not against you or your organization."

Clint paused. "Huh?"

Eli smirked. "If I just wanted to have you taken down right here, I could've already made a scene and called in Larson. He would've snapped you like a twig. So, are you gonna be honest with me now? It's just a simple yes or no question. Are you working for them or not?"

Clint swallowed hard. "Yes," he said, feeling regret building up in his chest already.

Hodges finally let go of his hand and relaxed back into bed. "Now, wasn't that easy?" he said, sighing as he stared at the ceiling.

Clint just stood awkwardly by the bed, the syringe still in hand, unsure of what to do next. So he just asked, "are you gonna get me arrested now?"

Eli scoffed. "Depends."

The doctor frowned. "Depends on what?"

"On whether or not you wanna cooperate." The old man turned his gaze back towards Clint. "Are you?"

"Cooperate how?" Clint was still frowning.

"Your group and I have a lot in common." Eli looked back at the ceiling.

"Really?"

"You wouldn't believe how much." Eli scoffed again. "For starters, you and I both hate the Seat of Authority."

"Um...didn't you just get shot while singing their praises?" Clint said.

"Of course I did." Eli rolled his eyes. "I'm a politician. What do you expect me to do? Criticize the very people I'm working for? On a nationally broadcasted event? If I did that I won't even have to wait for your friends to shoot me. Mine would've done a lot better job than yours already."

Clint raised an eyebrow. "So, you want to do something. But you are scared?"

Eli scoffed again. "I'm seventy four, kiddo. The only thing that scares me is having to wear adult diapers soon. Yes, that scares me a lot more than getting shot."

"If you aren't scared of death then what's stopping you?" Clint said.

Eli paused. He stared back at the ceiling. "Dying without having my revenge," he said.

"Revenge?"

Eli turned to look at Clint again. "Revenge against the First Leader. But that's none of your business. There's no point in me talking to you either. You are just a cog in a machine. I want to talk to someone in a place of authority."

"Um, there are two guys in authority. But I don't think either of those are gonna be able to talk to you. One of them hardly ever shows his face. The other one is currently living in a sectorized state."

Eli groaned. "I get it, you idiot. That's why I'm throwing you a bone. Take a message of mine to either of your leaders. I wanna talk to one of them. Now listen carefully what I'm about to tell you."

#

The car was dead silent as Clint paused mid sentence in his recounting of events. The voice behind the curtain spoke again. "Clint, what message did Eli give you?"

Clint looked back at the curtain separating them. "He said..."

#

"...this war, this stupidity that you've been seeing for the past ten years," Eli said. "It's all a hoax."

Clint was puzzled. "A hoax?"

Eli nodded. "A hoax to cover-up an international deceit. Our country isn't an enemy to the Republic of Vardin. Behind the curtain, the two have been friends for the past decade." 

(to be continued...)