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It's been eight years since Katherine Gall, my wife left me without any note, no reason, no fight that might cause her to leave. She just left. Leaving behind her seven-year-old daughter, her family, and the love I have for her. For the past few years, I have been searching for her. Her friends don't know her whereabouts, her workplace denies knowing her name, her parents disappear. What was going on? What secrets is she hiding from me?
So I decided to use my sources as a CIA agent to get my answers. Answers that I am not sure if I am ready to accept.
Katherine, my beloved wife, my sunlight. I have missed waking up next to you and smelling your sweet scent with your beautiful smile. Your touch sends a comforting feeling that everything is going to be alright. But why do you have to leave? This I thought to myself every day.
My search for her progressed, as I had to step on people's toes to get what I want. And those people were powers you want to mess with. As a result of my actions, I started receiving death threats to stop the search for my wife. I tried ignoring them, not until the last attack I had. A bomb was placed in my car just when I was about to get close to my car and drive to my daughter's school. Suddenly, the bomb exploded. someone had it controlled. I fell on the ground unconscious and rushed to the nearest hospital for treatments.
My friends and colleagues begged me to stop this madness, stop the search for my wife. It was clear that she didn't want to be found. But they won't understand. I needed to look into her eyes and ask her. "Why did she leave? Were the feelings we had real or a stage play?"
Then one morning, I got an envelope that was left at my doorstep. It had a written name on it. "About Katherine '' was boldly written. I picked it up and went in to read all that's inside the envelope.
I was shocked to find out that my wife was a different person, she wasn't who she said she was.
I just couldn't accept the report that my wife is a Russian Soviet agent. She was assigned to me as her assignment, to get intel from me since I am a CIA agent. So I was her asset. I was used. Reading that report broke my heart. But that wasn't all the answers I needed. So I kept searching for her as I broke the agency protocols by seeking help from criminals just to get her whereabouts and the last place she visited. Then one morning I got a call from my burner phone. A call from one of my sources outside the agency.
"Hello…"
"I know where she is."
The voice replied in a low tone, so I whispered into the phone to avoid any unknown hearing.
"Where?"
"Meet me at the central park by noon today and come alone."
He ended the call immediately.
The sky was blue with the clouds making unknown shapes, as the birds sang joyfully on the trees. There I was at the park, sitting on a lonely bench, waiting for my informant. Suddenly, I felt a cold touch on my neck. I slowly turned to see him beside me as he joined me.
"Where is she?" I hurried with my reply.
He hesitated for a while and said, "she's at Wellstone Agency, and you going there is a terrible idea."
"Why? What's Wellstone Agency?"
"That company offers translators to crime lords, criminals, and crooks for their shady deals. And if you want to get in you must pass their test. Also, let me be blunt. I'm not your friend. I think this is a suicide mission. I am only helping you to find your wife. And once you take the red pill in my hands you will blackout and then find yourself in the company."
"Is that all?"
"Yes…"
Then I took the red pill from him and swallowed it.
"What next?" I asked him.
He smiled and said. "Oh, my friend, it's your funeral."
Then I fell to the floor.