Q

There is a strange sort of nostalgia that one develops for the things they once despised. Ever since leaving The Organization, I've come to miss the most hateful of things; the secretary who chewed far too loudly and asked too many questions, the strain to pick up words through a worn out bug that gave more static than answers. The constant fear. The codes and disguises and lies and secrets.

I hated it. All of it.

But I still miss being part of something greater than myself.

Yes, I am still on their side, but they are having a bit of a hard time seeing that at the moment.

It wasn't the obnoxious secretary or the thoroughly used equipment or the fear or even the most ridiculous of disguises that chased me out. It was Q's murder. Yes, fellow agents, she was murdered. And you did nothing. I thought that her loss would finally drive The Organization to action, but even with betrayal so clearly written across the floor in her blood (and I mean this literally), you refused to see that we'd been infiltrated.

You carried on as if nothing had happened. As if one of our best agents had not been stabbed to death with a spork coated in hebenon.

I wonder, are you unwilling to admit that one among you is guilty, or do all of you share in the guilt of the crime?

This act of vicious sporking was not done alone, that much is certain. Q was formidable. She was also six feet tall and proficient in most kinds of martial arts.

There are traitors within our organization, and the others are complacent in their treachery. Someone needed to take drastic measures. So, here I am.

I swear, my fellow agents, I did not leave you.

Except physically.

And geographically.

And a little bit emotionally (but that was your fault for cancelling our dinner plans).

My first goal is to uncover the circumstances under which Q was killed. Yet a bloody spork and the word "Betrayal" are not much in the way of clues. I'll need to dig deeper, find the cracks in everyone's facades. You all have your secrets and so do I. But one of you has a much darker, bloodier, sporkier secret than the others. And I will discover it.

It seems as if my cover is safe for now. My enemies either haven't discovered this blog yet, or they truly believe it to be a simple high school English project.

The case is stagnant at the moment, but I have determination, a need for vengeance, and a fairly attractive blog.

All I know is that I know nothing except for the fact that I know nothing.

May the future bring us ever closer to the answers we seek,

- A.M. Ham