The Silent Group

The corridor was only sparely lit and there was still a cold draft coming up the stairs. Cold air with the faint smell of snow and damp wood was carried with Mark up to the landing where he was standing, hesitating. Never having left the capital before this was his chance to prove his worth as an agent. Grabbing his suitcase tighter, he breathed out to prepare himself for the task ahead.

The weak light at the wall flickered and reminded him to get off the landing and into the apartment. Pulling down the collar of his coat to appear like a young man from the countryside ready to start university at Gorgun, he looked for a doorbell to ring. After a few moments of searching the only thing he could make out was the name plate stating “Herder” which made the knot in his stomach uncoil slightly as this was the same name the agency had given him.

The sudden chiming of the bells from the street announcing the curfew made him flinch. If he was caught outside by the police past curfew it would only complicate things and most probably result in not only a reprimand from his superior but maybe even a demotion.

Balling his fingers into a fist Mark summoned his courage and knocked a few times on the wooden door. Tightening his other hand around the suitcase’s handle he waited, counting slowly to ten before lifting his hand again and repeating the motion.

While there hadn't been any reaction after his first knock, he now could hear steps coming closer. Clearing his throat and taking off his cap, he took half a step back. When nothing happened, he lifted his hand to knock again.

Suddenly there was a flurry of metal clicking and finally the door opened a crack. The safety chain, clearly still in place, providing only a small gap to look at a fraction of a face.

“What is it? It’s past curfew.”

It was a woman. A short woman by the looks of it as Mark had to look down and her head would probably just reach his shoulder if she stood next to him. Taken aback, having expected an older man, Mark almost forgot that the landing was quite short and took a full step back. Almost losing his footing he let go of his suitcase which fell to the floor with a loud thump while he frantically grasped for the handrail. Leaning forward, trying to shift his weight to stop his backward movement, he barely managed not to fall down the staircase. Instead, he stumbled forward and bumped against the wall, pressing his chest uncomfortably into the light switch.

While groaning he heard something like a suppressed chuckle or snort coming from behind the crack which had heat shoot up his cheeks. This was not what he had expected for his first mission outside the capital. While rubbing his chest where the short metal stick had stabbed him, he cleared his throat again and took a sidestep back to the slightly opened door.

“I’m here for Mister Herder. I rented a single room through the agency. Let me …”

“There is no room for rent. You have the wrong address.”

Due to her height, he had first thought that he was talking to a younger woman but hearing her slightly lower pitch as well as the now stern look on her face he realized that she must be around his mother’s age. When he took too long to react, she was about to close the door, most probably thinking he might be an agent tricking her into violating the curfew.

“I … Stop! I have … I have the contract here. With … with me. Wait. If you just Mister Herder …”

Not daring to show his relief when the door didn’t close in his face, he fumbled in his inner coat pocket and produced a brown envelope, slightly crumpled but with the housing agency’s stamp on it. Waving the envelope in front of her door, not handing it over yet, the woman hesitated and Mark opened his mouth to continue with his explanation, when the envelope was taken out of his hand. How it had happened he couldn’t understand as the woman’s arm wouldn’t fit through the gap. Then he heard the rustling of the paper and he started to fidget. If she decided to close the door on him now he had nothing left to argue his case if he got caught by the patrols on the street.

“Damnation. What was he up to!? Curse him and his plans.”

Not being used to hearing women curse so loudly Mark stared at the woman. Without warning, the door closed with a bang in his face. Shocked the young man stared at the dark wood. Nothing went as planned today and slowly the desperation was rising in him. The train from the capital had been delayed. The suitcase with his mission files had almost been stolen. Due to that he had lost his way and arrived at the address far too late. Just when desperation began to set in, the door was opened.

Mark couldn’t help but stare at the robust middle-aged woman which indeed just reached his shoulders. There was a strict expression around her mouth, and she had a scrutinizing look in her eyes as if she could not only see him but also his thoughts. Trying to look innocent and remembering his manners he opened his mouth to introduce himself, but she turned on her heels.

“Come on in. There’s no point discussing this out in the open.”

In front of him stood a bowl with a steaming stew. At least that’s what the woman had told him. The greyish-brown stodge didn’t look like anything Mark had seen or eaten before. As there was still steam rising from the bowl, he used the time to look around the space surrounding the table. Like the corridor, the kitchen which was attached to the living room was dimly lit. To Mark’s surprise there was a space right next to the kitchen which must be used as a shower. The curtains were currently open and fastened to the wall next to a cabinet with tableware. But there was still water glistering on the floor as if it had been used recently.

While the outlay of the apartment appeared unusual so was its owner’s behavior. As far as Mark could detect there was no sign that Leon Herder, the contact the agency had given him, was living here. The owner of the apartment was unlike any woman Mark knew. And during his time as an agent in the capital he had been in contact with women of different classes. There hadn’t been many occasions when he had been alone with a woman but in the rare cases, they had followed the appropriate mannerisms expected from a woman. But the woman in front of him moved with certainty and despite her stature she carried herself with confidence and claimed more space than one would have expected.

Her attire as well was quite uncommon being all in dark colors. To Mark it looked like she was in mourning. But he couldn’t detect any expression of grief or sadness on her face.

“Eat while it’s still warm. It’ll get even more difficult to stomach when it’s cold.”

Sitting down across the table with two cups half filled with tea. She pushed one towards him and gave him an almost encouraging nod. Under her watchful eye, Mark forced down a few spoonfuls before switching to the tea. The scent of the tea was strong but there was no sign of sugar or milk being served with it, not to mention some sweet treats.

“There’s nothing else I can offer. Milk will be delivered tomorrow.”

Now there was a mocking smirk on her lips and Mark felt his hackles rise as the woman had been nothing but dismissive towards him. Except for letting him in to avoid the patrols she oozed hostility.

“So, now that I’ve fed you let’s get to the point.”

The sudden switch of topic made him blink in surprise, but he paid attention to not lose his case and being kicked out in the middle of the night.

“This contract. It’s valid. So, I will let you stay tonight.”

Relief washed over him, but he could sense that she wasn’t finished and wanted to interject when she continued.

“My late father … apparently, he signed this contract with the housing agency. I’m currently in no state in housing a stranger here. We will go to the agency together to sort things out tomorrow.”

A bit stupefied by the announcement of her father’s passing, Mark wasn’t sure how to react. There was still anger audible in her voice and her expression had him suspect that the relationship between father and daughter hadn’t been an easy one. At least it explained her short hair and the dark clothes she was wearing.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I …”

Cementing the problematic relationship, she made a dismissive gesture with her hand and then took a sip from her cup.

“Don’t bother. If you don’t want to finish this, I’ll clean up now.”

Without waiting for his answer, she grabbed the bowl and scraped the leftovers into a bin before starting to wash the cutlery and tableware. Just then Mark saw that there was more than one bowl in the drying area of the sink. Immediately, alarm bells rang in his head. It all fit! Her strange aversion to hosting him as a guest. The opposition despite the rental contract he had provided. The obvious signs of a gathering late in the evening. Even if she didn’t look like it she could easily be in cahoots with the terrorists whose network he was supposed to uncover in Gorgun.

“Ah, I almost forgot.”

Snapping out of his thoughts he focused on the woman who had turned around. She took the few steps through the kitchen towards him. Somehow despite being taller and most probably stronger than her he felt intimidated that he almost pushed back in his chair. Wiping her hand on her skirt she held it toward him and for a second, he dumbly stared at the fingers as if he had never seen a hand before.

“I’m sorry about the gruff welcome. There is still a lot going on with my father’s … hm … inheritance.”

Grabbing her hand, finally understanding what she wanted Mark got up and shook it, looking down on the woman. To his surprise she lifted her face to look directly into his eyes, a small smile visible on her lips.

“My name’s Lena Minner. Welcome to Gorgun.”

“Mom! Mom! There is a man on the sofa!”

“Mom! That’s not dad! Mom!”

Two bright voices reached his ear and pulled him out of a delicious foggy sleepiness. Mark cracked open one of his eyes then the other one, looking at two pale faces peeking over the sofa’s back. One was round the other more angular, but both faces were framed by neatly braided pigtails.

“Let him sleep. Sit down and eat your breakfast.”

Lena’s strict tone brought Mark back to reality and while he had first questioned if he was dreaming, he knew now where he was. The two children disappeared with a shriek when he sat up.

“Stop it! I’m sorry Mister Jahn. It’s impossible to sleep in with children in the house.”

Contrary to her gruff tone the night before she almost sounded gentle, addressing him now. There was a giggle coming from the children and Mark looked over to the kitchen area where the students in uniform were supposed to eat their breakfast. It dawned on him that his suspicion from the previous night had gone the wrong direction. She was a mother and not part of the Silent Group. Of course there would be more bowls to wash with two children in the house.

Lena was also in the kitchen, busy preparing something on the stove. The giggles got louder and following the stares, his hand shot up. His hair was standing in every direction and now there was audible laughter coming from the child with the more angular face.

“Finish your food! Now! You’re running late.”

It was a command. The heads immediately whipped around to face their bowls, and they started to vigorously spoon the porridge. The sharpness of the voice lived up to any military officer under which Mark had served in the past years. Her short hair, obviously cut for mourning, stressed this impression even more.

With two distinct clunks the spoons were thrown into the bowls and the two girls got up without bringing the bowls to the sink. It was now Lena who turned around, took the bowls with a sigh and followed her daughters out of the kitchen.

“Porridge is on the stove. Honey and milk are on the table. Just put everything in the sink when you’re done.”

“Thank you. I … hm …”

“It’s always a rush in the morning. If you want to take a shower, you’ll have to hurry. There will be only warm water until seven.”

With this she left the kitchen, but Mark could still hear her giving commands to her girls, rushing them out of the house until the door closed behind them.

There was a loud bang, a crash and then the sound of breaking glass. Mark jolted up, forgetting the documents he had been reading waiting for Lena to return. There was shouting going on but the words were inaudible, too far away on the ground level. But Mark was sure that one of the voices belonged to Lena. It didn’t sound like a sudden accident but a full-blown argument. Without thinking the young man jumped up, not grabbing his coat but only barely squeezing into his boots he flew down the stairs. The door probably falling shut behind him.

Rushing on the street he saw a tall but incredibly thin man standing in front of his host. Despite wearing a winter coat and being well dressed the man's shaking hands and bloodshot eyes marked him as an addict desperate for his next fix.

“Go back! Take care of your business and leave us alone!”

“My business!? Then I would be grateful if you stopped interfering. Your damn family … your father …”

Looking from one to the other, Mark tried to figure out what was going on. The two obviously knew each other but the atmosphere was hostile and aggressive, not only due to the man’s drug problem.

“Go away, Paul. I’m warning you only once.”

The quiet voice carried no hostility but somehow the atmosphere got even more threatening. Instinctively, Paul as well as Mark took a step back. There was a crunching sound coming from the shards on the ground and now the attention went towards Mark. While there was an unreadable expression on Lena’s face Paul sneered in his direction.

“Ah. My dear wife, that’s what you are doing these days. Don’t forget the contract. It’s a promise for life!”

Now Mark was sure that he could see the air around Lena shimmer and while he took a step towards her, Paul’s expression immediately changed and he stumbled back.

“Don’t you dare, Lena! Don’t! If you do this now, I’ll …”

“Leave now, Paul. I’ll send the money.”

“But the kids …”

“Haven’t seen you in over a month. If I hear that you contact them, you can be sure that the contract is the last thing you’ll have to worry about.”

Without giving him a second glance Lena turned around and grabbed the broom which was leaning next to the shop door. Her calm demeanor made Paul stare daggers at her back and for a few moments Mark feared that he would attack her. He readied himself to defend her but to his surprise the husband eventually just straightened his back and walked down the street grumbling under his breath.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. He’s usually a bit easier to handle.”

The woman turned toward him and raised an eyebrow when Mark noticed that he was standing on the cold street in only his dress-shirt and boots.

“Maybe you should wait in the store for a second. I need to clean up first before I can give you the key to the apartment.”

It was just now that Mark realized they were standing in front of a shop. The glass of the door was shattered and by the looks of it when Mark stepped into the shop the fight had started there. There were books scattered all over the floor. Some pages were torn out while there were also ink stains visible on the floorboard. Without being asked he started to clean up, stacking the books, not daring to put them on the shelves as he didn’t want to destroy his host’s system. Just when he picked up the last book his eyes saw a marking on the lower part of its spine. At first, he thought it to be an ink dropping but then his heart started racing. Six oval petals of the Passionflower encased in a double-lined circle. The mark of the Silent Group.