Death Certificate
"Actually, whether Ivan is the source of the infection is still under investigation. The headquarters hasn't reached a conclusion yet," Tara said, her voice steady, though it hinted at underlying tension. "Initially, they just wanted to understand what was going on with him—they didn't even issue an arrest order. But Ivan's aggressive reaction escalated the situation far beyond what anyone expected."
Charlie absorbed this, the absurdity of the situation gnawing at him. "So they think he's the source of the infection just because he was caught on camera?"
"That's part of it, but there's probably more to it than that."
Tara's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper on the other end of the line.
"From what I've heard, it's not just about the camera footage. There are whispers that the entire attack on the Riverton City FBI might be suspicious."
She hesitated, clearly choosing her words carefully. "Did you know Ivan was an agent before he joined the Ninth Division?"
"Yeah," Charlie replied. "He mentioned it once during a mission. I also saw some old photos in his office. But that was just in passing."
"Do you know which branch of the FBI Ivan worked for when he was still an FBI personnel?"
Charlie paused, a growing sense of unease crawling up his spine. "No, I don't… Wait," his voice sharpened with realization, "you don't mean—"
"Yes," Tara confirmed quietly, "it was the Fourth Branch. The very same one that was attacked last night. It's not hard to see why people are connecting the dots. And," she hesitated again, her voice dropping even lower, "I've heard there was some bad blood between Ivan and people at the Fourth Branch."
"What kind of bad blood?"
"I don't know the specifics," Tara admitted. "That kind of information is heavily encrypted, and only those with the right clearance can access it. But this isn't really something you need to get involved in. If you see Ivan, just contact headquarters immediately, and they'll take it from there."
She had a point. Charlie and Ivan weren't particularly close, and whether Ivan was really infected or just caught up in something— didn't directly impact Charlie's life.
In the past, Charlie would have kept his distance from this kind of trouble. He wouldn't have even bothered to ask questions, let alone get involved. But things were different now. He had developed a taste for digging into mysteries that weren't his business.
After all, he was now the legendary "keyboard warrior," a master of online crusades, shouting at injustice from behind the safety of his screen. Armed with his "key," the keyboard, he was ready to engage in a different kind of battle.
The clues Tara mentioned had piqued his curiosity. Charlie had been at the scene of the Fourth Branch incident last night—as Batman. But he hadn't known this was where Ivan had worked.
It seemed that the specific details were locked behind layers of security clearance, which Charlie obviously didn't have. But that didn't matter. He believed in the old saying, "If you want something, go and get it." There were very few things Charlie wanted that he couldn't eventually obtain.
...Except, perhaps, his parents' approval.
A short while later, Batman arrived outside the Ninth Division's building, disguised as a nondescript trading company.
Charlie knew the drill. Before making any moves, it was crucial to observe and assess the situation. While it was easy to joke about the security of the floating "madhouse" being questionable, he knew that an organization of this size couldn't afford to be lax. At least on the surface, it had to maintain security standards far beyond those of a public restroom.
Batman circled the building multiple times, scanning it thoroughly using detective mode. With each scan, Charlie built a comprehensive mental map of the building's layout, noting the locations of all potential entry points, security measures, and patrol patterns.
The first challenge was the building's exterior. The glass walls were lined with state-of-the-art motion sensors, so sensitive that even a light tap could trigger an internal alarm, instantly revealing his presence.
But detective mode had its perks. It marked the locations of these sensors in advance, allowing Charlie to trace the wiring through the walls. The intricate web of wires led him to a control hub inside the building, hidden behind several layers of security.
Charlie switched Batman's equipment, and the Dark Knight produced a powerful universal decryptor from his belt. Locking onto the control hub, Batman swiftly bypassed the sensors, rendering them useless in a matter of seconds.
The entire process was almost too easy.
Charlie imagined the software experts at the Ninth Division witnessing this. They'd probably be shocked at how quickly their cutting-edge security was disabled. It would be a blow to their pride, to say the least.
But then again, it wasn't really their fault. Batman had a reputation for cracking the most secure systems. He had once hacked into Apokolips, the home planet of the dark monarch Darkseid, and hijacked their entire biochemical weapon arsenal, using it to threaten Darkseid himself. Compared to that, a few security sensors were child's play.
With the sensors disabled, Batman used the grapple gun to reach the floor Charlie had scouted earlier. Thanks to detective mode, he could see through walls, ensuring the floor was empty. The universal decryptor made short work of the security cameras and electronic locks, allowing Batman to slip inside unnoticed.
Navigating the floor was almost too easy. With detective mode active, it felt like playing a game of hide and seek with omniscient vision. Charlie could see how many people were in the building and where they were heading.
Any surveillance cameras that couldn't be bypassed were handled with precision. Charlie didn't just disable them; he intercepted their feeds, looping the same few seconds of empty footage over and over, creating the illusion that nothing was amiss.
As for the locks, the universal decryptor took care of the electronic ones, while Batman's master key and lockpicking skills handled the rest.
If any agents or guards were unavoidable, a quick and silent takedown ensured they wouldn't be a problem. By the time they woke up, Charlie would be long gone.
After about ten minutes, Batman reached the sub-base's server room, quickly knocking two agents unconscious on the floor, a testament to the Dark Knight's efficiency.
Batman's infiltration was methodical and precise, a silent operation that left no trace.
Charlie selected the appropriate equipment, and on the screen, Batman produced his trusty decryptor. This time, instead of relying on wireless transmission, Batman plugged directly into the server with a data cable, preparing for a deeper dive into the system.
Charlie guessed that cracking the server's defenses might take a bit more effort. Although he didn't fully understand the technical process, he saw Batman fiddling with the black-tech device a bit longer than usual, his fingers moving swiftly over the controls.
From Charlie's perspective, it wasn't all that different from defusing a bomb in a video game—find the target, press and hold the E key, wait for the progress bar to fill up, and boom, the bomb is defused.
The firewall actually managed to hold off Batman for over a minute—a feat that Charlie figured could earn the Ninth Division's tech team a year's worth of bragging rights.
Once inside the system, Charlie took control of the device in Batman's hand. The screen of the decryptor expanded, taking up nearly the entire view on Charlie's monitor. He could now operate it as if it were his own computer, navigating through the files and databases with ease.
When it came to programming, Charlie was a novice. He worried that if the decryptor required any input beyond basic commands, he might be out of his depth.
Fortunately, the device was user-friendly, designed for ease of use even by those with limited technical knowledge. It was almost like using a search engine—type in what you want to know, and the device would do the rest.
Charlie entered Ivan's name, and a flood of information appeared on the screen.
Before he could sift through the details, one item immediately caught his eye, freezing him in place.
It was a photo of Ivan, looking much like he did now, with the same sparse hair and stern expression. But what really stood out was the text below the image.
It read: Death Certificate.
Charlie's heart skipped a beat, his mind racing to process what he was seeing.
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