047. A Family

Jalu squinted, his forehead creasing as if straining to contain the surge of pain welling up inside him. His movements were swift but tense as he pulled out his smartphone, his focus shifting while Erwin, Binsar, Rini, and Sekar scrambled to restore the connection with Bayu’s device. The room buzzed with urgency, and after a tense few moments, a woman's voice speaking in Russian broke through the static.
She introduced herself as Olga Mikulikova, a member of OCK stationed in Chelyabinsk. This time, the transmission was crystal clear, free from any static interference. Before ending the call for security reasons, she explained that communication with all operatives in Karabash had been disrupted. She then provided a contact serial number for further discussion regarding Bayu’s recording.
Jalu barely registered Erwin and Olga’s conversation. His attention was consumed by the steady dial tone of his father’s unreachable number, just as Erwin had said earlier. A heavy weight settled in his chest, and regret gnawed at him. He felt utterly despicable, trapped in his own stubbornness, cursing himself for refusing to listen to anyone's explanations when it mattered most.
Since his return from Alamut, disappointment had ignited a fury in Jalu, a rage that had consumed his wisdom and clouded his judgment. Now, that fire had dwindled, leaving only the cold ache of regret, far too late to undo the damage. With heavy steps, Jalu lethargically walked out of the room. Concern flashed in Liriénka's eyes, and she moved to follow him, but Sekar’s hand quickly caught her arm, holding her back.
"Let him process it all first, dear," Sekar murmured gently in the Eldest Tongue, her grip on Liriénka's arm soft but firm.
"It seems Jalu doesn't truly understand what happened while he was in Alamut," Edo speculated to the group in Indonesian.
"Members who trained with the Nizari Hashashin said that during their time with the clan, all communication with the outside world was completely cut off," Erwin explained. "Moreover, you and others working outside West Java might not know that Mr. Adiwira ordered his son to be blindfolded from the tragedy."
"That's cruel!" Edo exclaimed. "Why would Mr. Adiwira do that? Jalu isn’t just his son—he’s an outstanding member of Division 96. He deserves to know the truth!"
"I’ve questioned Mr. Adiwira’s orders myself, repeatedly," Erwin replied calmly. "But we all know how our mentor operates. He keeps his plans under layers of patience and secrecy, even as Jalu went on his murderous rampage."
"He probably blames himself for not being able to stop the regime’s hunt for Division 96," Binsar speculated. "And he definitely blames Mr. Adiwira for his mother’s death."
"Weren’t you the only one Jalu contacted, Martin?" Rini chimed in, her tone cautious. "Maybe you should’ve… I don’t know, dropped him a hint back then?"
"And go against Mr. Adiwira’s direct order?" Martin’s voice rose, tinged with offense. "He called me himself when I was stationed in Ambon. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep everything locked down, while listening to Jalu tear into his father and the rest of our seniors?"
Rini lifted her hands slowly, palms facing outward. Her shoulders slumped as if bearing the weight of the tense exchange. A small, tentative smile flickered on her lips, barely masking her discomfort. "I take back what I said," she added, her tone softening in apology.
"Handling Jalu takes a whole new level of patience," Edo remarked, shaking his head. "You’re something else, brother."
"Beneath the brutal, foul-mouthed, walking bomb, Jalu’s a good man," Martin countered, his voice steady with conviction. "He’s just too stubborn to admit it. Maybe he prefers being misunderstood."
"No good man kills people like swatting mosquitoes," Binsar shot back, his expression hard.
"And no bad man saves an interdimensional being and goes out of his way to help her," Sekar retorted, her eyes narrowing.
Erwin, cutting through the tension, straightened up. "Mr. Adiwira’s instructions are clear," he declared. "And we’ll follow them until the very end!"
Everyone fell silent, lost in their thoughts. Bayu had always been the one to unite the scattered remnants of Division 96, members spread across various countries. Most of them were researchers and medical experts, with little to no experience in field operations. Yet Bayu had orchestrated their every move, issuing orders with a precision only he could manage.
His leadership was unwavering, but his plans were always kept close to his chest. No one, not even those closest to him, knew the full picture. And as it turned out, not even his own son had been spared from that secrecy.
"I'll talk to him," Martin said, rising from his seat.
But before he could take a step, the door swung open. Jalu stood at the threshold, his expression unreadable but the fire in his eyes unmistakable.
"I’m going to Russia," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt.
Martin paused, his brows knitting together as their gazes locked. There was something deeper beneath Jalu's stoic demeanor, a silent plea or maybe a rare glimpse of vulnerability.
The room seemed to hold its breath as the two of their best field operatives stood in silence. Slowly, Martin took a step forward and placed a hand on Jalu's shoulder. His grip was firm but not forceful, a gesture that carried a thousand words neither of them had spoken.
Jalu's jaw tightened, but he didn’t pull away. For a brief moment, something passed between them—a shared understanding, a bond that even their many arguments couldn’t break.
"I understand," Martin finally said, squeezing Jalu’s shoulder before letting go.
"You've used up all your IDs," Binsar said. "I’ll get a new one sorted for you. Just make sure to meet me at our new headquarters before you leave."
"New headquarters?" Jalu asked, confusion etched on his face.
"A friend of Mr. Adiwira donated a warehouse at 54 Cibogo Street," Erwin explained with a hint of pride. "We’ve transformed it into our new base. Surely, you didn’t think the funds our seniors gathered were only enough to fix this old device?"
"The next flight to Moscow is at eleven tonight," Sekar interjected, her eyes focused on her laptop screen. "If you let me stay at your place, I’ll take care of Liriénka until you return."
"Pack your things and come to the headquarters before you head out," Erwin continued, his voice firm yet gentle. "We’ll have everything ready for you."
Jalu shook his head, his expression conflicted. "My departure isn’t as a member of Division 96."
Erwin’s eyes softened, and a reassuring smile touched his lips. "What's left of Division 96 is a family." He gestured around the room, where everyone stood united, their faces reflecting warmth and solidarity. "Let us help you, even if it seems insignificant to you."
In that moment, Jalu’s gaze swept over the faces around him. Each one conveyed empathy, support, and unspoken understanding. For the first time since his return to Indonesia, a profound sense of belonging began to envelop him. The walls he had built around himself started to crumble as he saw the genuine care and commitment in their eyes.
Jalu’s eyes misted over as he managed a faint, heartfelt smile. Bowing his head, he took a deep breath, feeling a new and profound sense of homecoming. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. The simple phrase carried the weight of everything he had been longing to express, a testament to his newfound sense of commitment.