The Last Game

I wrote this for my first attempt participating in a writing battle. I've tweaked and enhanced it slightly after recieving judge's feedback, but here it is:

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Elara Finch had just poured her morning coffee and sat down to enjoy it when a surprise call came in from an old friend.

“Jake, what can I do for you this early in the morning?” she answered with a chuckle.

“Shoot, sorry - it’s evening here! But, I need a favour. Something’s off, but the brass doesn’t see it.”

“Continue,” Elara said, intrigued.

“I’m doing some routine fieldwork in Central Asia and following some interesting mishaps.”

“I’ll look, but I’ll do it from the comfort of my couch,” Elara said matter-of-factly.

“Wow, never thought I’d see the day where thrill-seeking Elara Finch wanted to stay home.”

She chuckled again. “Not everyone can stay in the field forever. One can only spy on so many people before Netflix starts sounding better and better.”

“Fair enough,” Jake said, a smile apparent in his voice. “You know I appreciate it.”

“Anything for you, Jake.”

Elara hung up the phone with a smile. Her early retirement from the agency had surprised her loyal partner, Jake, but he coped by asking her for help every so often. She was happy to oblige. It gave her something new to focus on and an excuse to chat with her old friend.

She opened her computer and waited for Jake to send the files. Once they arrived, she skimmed everything, clocking the main details. Immediately, she wondered if Jake had picked up on the pattern - these things involved Russian and British tension or relations.

On February 16, someone cut the power at an important British-Russian trade summit. Networks were hacked, and crucial trade negotiations were halted.

On March 12, someone bombed a top-secret British safehouse. Several British agents died.

On April 30, someone stole British-Russian intelligence documents from a classified historical archive in Moscow. The documents contained information from the Great Game era, including communication logs involving Milton Hargrave.

According to Elara’s memory, Milton Hargrave was a British agent who accomplished much during the Great Game, but he wasn’t the head of any agency or a political leader.

Realizing the connection, she redialed Jake.

“Hey, El, that was quick.”

Elara cut to the chase, "Yes, did you notice the British-Russian link here?"

“I did wonder about that, but stranger things have been a coincidence.”

“Maybe so, but all of these incidents involve trade deals, intelligence, or political relations - it feels like a reenactment of the Great Game.”

“Why would someone today be concerned with a years-long political headlock between Russia and Britain?”

“Where are you stationed right now?”

“We’re in Samarkand for a trade summit. Negotiations are above board, but our intel predicts political sabotage from all sides.”

That all but confirmed it for Elara.

“It’s not a stretch, Jake; I’m coming to you.”

***

“I’ll be honest, I’m surprised you were so quick to join me. You’ve done historical consulting work in your retirement, but you’ve been a shut-in since you left the field.”

Elara bristled. “Well, to be safe, I needed to ask you in person – do you have Silent Ledger clearance?”

Jake’s eyes widened as he tightened his grip on the wheel. “I-” he paused, collecting himself. “I guess I’m not surprised you know what that is; your knowledge of history always complemented your skills as an agent. Yes, I can get you in.”

“Good. I had clearance in my glory days, but I’ve been retired too long.”

The next day, Jake and Elara drove the elaborate but necessary route to the Ledger, winding down side roads to ensure they weren’t followed. Accessed only by a small trap door in the middle of a seemingly empty field, most of the world doesn’t know this room exists.

“Alright, you’re in. What are we looking for?”

“We need to find everything we can on the Great Game and the details no one wants revealed.”

Once down the hatch, the large room sprawled for ages yet felt cramped by the stacks of books and boxes. The lack of natural light made for a depressing mission, but they remained determined to sift through the dusty, organized chaos.

Something finally caught her attention among the many redacted files, documents, and dossiers. A letter lost to time, dated April 30, 1845, the same day one of the incidents Jake suspected took place.

“My love,

I fear our next mission won’t succeed. My instinct is screaming at me, but I’m in too deep. I can’t back down. I suspect foul play might be afoot. Double agents are aplenty in Samarkand, and I worry that betrayal may befall our team soon. Please know I love you and can’t wait to see you again.”

E.L.”

“E.L., E.L.,” Elara muttered, racking her brain.

“Edward Lancaster!”

“What’s that?” Jake asked, looking up from the file in his hand.

“I’ve heard of Edward Lancaster, a British spy caught by the Russians. Samarkand was a big player in the Silk Road and essentially the center of the Great Game. Lancaster tried covertly securing a treaty with a tribal leader overseeing several important mountain passes in this area. Russian intelligence captured and executed Lancaster the same day. He died as a failure in the eyes of the British government and the public. This note clearly never made it home.”

Elara put the letter aside and read through the file until she found another date. On February 16, 1845, Lancaster appeared to botch a mission. He intended to sabotage a trade agreement to solidify Russian control over a network of trade routes, granting them a strategic political advantage over the British. Several operatives ambushed Lancaster en route, delaying him long enough for the agreement to proceed.

Reading faster now, Elara found more familiar dates.

On April 30, 1845, Lancaster was meant to obtain a series of important documents detailing plans for a Russian attack on Afghanistan. But he went to the wrong location and walked into a trap, narrowly escaping arrest and finding no documents.

On March 12, 1845, Russia invaded a secure British safehouse. Lancaster intended to send coded messages to fellow British operatives. Two other agents died, but Lancaster survived.

“It’s Edward Lancaster, Jake. Someone is obsessed.”

“What do you mean?”

“These modern attacks have occurred on the anniversary of Edward Lancaster missions, in order. The Russians captured him on June 12. That’s tomorrow; what’s happening with the summit tomorrow?”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Elara, political ambassadors from Britain and Russia are meeting.”

Elara nodded, “That’s it, then. What’s a mere coincidence to the rest of us appears to an obsessed, deluded individual as a sign. They think it’s time to reveal the truth; I’m sure the stolen, archived documents involving Milton Hargrave will appear.”

“Should I call my connections at Echelon?” Jake asked, furrowing his brow.

“Anyone with the intel to carry out these attacks would be inside Echelon. We can’t trust them.”

“Maybe, but we have to do something. If bombs are their M.O., then lives are at stake.”

“You’re right. Show me where the meeting is taking place. Maybe we can find clues.”

They arrived at a small, nondescript office building with Jake leading the way.

Jake swung the door open and waved Elara in. “After you. We’ll need to call the elevator.”

Elara nodded, walking through the door and straight to the elevator, pressing the small “down” arrow.

“I think we should check the basement. That’s probably where everything is kept, and no one should be coming in and out,” Elara said as the doors closed behind them.

“Sure, sounds good. What are we looking for?”

“Any evidence that things have been disrupted or someone has gained unauthorized access.”

They finally arrived at the bottom of the long descent, both acutely aware of how far underground they were.

Several minutes passed as they wandered the basement, quietly opening doors and observing their surroundings. Elara felt a growing sense of unease and disappointment as they continued finding nothing until she heard what sounded like faint footsteps and a rustle of papers. Despite her desire to solve this puzzle and prevent an attack, her heart raced, and she carefully reached for her hidden firearm.

“Jake, up here.”

Coming up beside her, Jake pushed open the suspicious door, pulling his pistol from its hiding place.

Ready for anything, Elara remained calm as the door swung open to reveal a shadowy figure dressed all in black.

“We’re armed,” Jake warned with simple authority as the figure jumped and swung around to face them.

“Don’t even try it,” Elara said as she saw their eyes darting to the room’s other door.

“What do you want?” The figure growled.

Jake began to speak, but Elara touched his arm and stepped forward. “It’s you…” Elara whispered, the pieces finally coming together.

“You know her?!” Jake demanded.

“Sort of,” Elara said, not breaking eye contact with the rogue agent. “Your codename and photo have circulated for years, but no one could find you, Cipher.”

“And they still won’t,” Cipher said, grabbing a black box from the table. “I was going to do this tomorrow, but now works, too," she said smugly as Elara realized she held a detonator.

“But you won’t,” Elara said, lowering her weapon. She noted Jake still holding his.

Cipher cackled. “And why not?”

“Because it’s not just about getting away with it. You could kill us, and no one would know, but the truth about Lancaster and Hargrave would never be out.”

Cipher’s eyes widened.

“And you’re right; it looks like Hargrave betrayed Lancaster. How did you figure it out?”

Cipher’s expression hardened. “My father tried to clear Lancaster’s name his whole life. His public failure mired our family name for generations, and they eliminated anyone who sought the truth. It took me years of training, waiting, and building trust, but I found what they tried to bury. Hargrave was a double agent. He tipped off the Russians constantly and always revealed Edward’s location.”

“But it’s all in the past; why must you destroy innocent lives?”

“Because Hargrave lived as a traitor but got to die a hero. Do you know what it’s like to grow up being spat on for crimes you didn’t commit? My name is a curse, thanks to Hargrave. The world deserves to know that their governments are LIARS!” She punctuated the end of her sentence by slamming her fist into the wall, the whites in her eyes growing more prominent.

“Why not just expose them in a peaceful way?”

“Peaceful? Like Edward’s trial was peaceful? Like his murder was peaceful? Don’t patronize me.” Cipher rolled her eyes, voice growing louder. ”Besides, someone should pay for what they did to Edward! Not only did the whole world see him die a failure, but so did his whole world. That letter never made it back to his wife. She and their ten-year-old son had to watch from afar while he died as a public disgrace!” She glared at them both, holding the detonator up again, threatening.

Before Elara could continue trying to reason with Cipher, she heard a barrage of footsteps behind them. Five armed agents barged through the door, weapons raised. Their vests bore the unmistakable green Echelon crest.

“Sorry, Elara, I had to call it in,” Jake said from behind her.

Cipher made eye contact with Elara for a fleeting moment before she tried to dive through the room’s back door.

Elara gasped as several shots rang out, knocking Cipher to the ground. She rushed to her side as the blood pooled. With her last ounce of strength, Cipher stretched her arm toward a small bundle of files. The truth.

Head spinning, Elara nodded, and Cipher was gone.

Elara looked back at Jake as the agents filtered out of the room. At a loss for words, she just shook her head.

Jake held his hands up in defeat. “Elara, she threatened not only our safety but the integrity of Echelon. She was dangerous, erratic, and delusional.”

“She was also right.”

“Or maybe she read too much into the whole thing.”

“Jake. you saw…” Elara stopped, realizing that re-hashing the chain of events wouldn’t matter. Too loyal to Echelon, Jake couldn’t see the problem.

“Nevermind. You’re right. We saved lives today.”

Elara swiped Cipher’s files and concealed them in her jacket as she stood up.

“Exactly. Let’s get back to the real world while they clean this up.”

Elara took one last look at Cipher, silently lamenting her sacrifice and vowing to tell the world about Edward Lancaster.