“You’re telling me that you were the one that killed Gavril Raikov? The news said that Davidenko was responsible for that.” Cromwell interjected as the pen scrabbled rapidly.

“No…I only staged it to appear that way.” Silas chuckled bitterly. “The fact that you believe that’s what happened shows you how good I am at what I do.”

“You’re some kind of assassin then, right?” Cromwell raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“How could you question it?” Silas asked quietly. “Do you not remember how the War was ended?

“How could I not?” Cromwell spread his hands wide, chuckling weakly. It couldn’t be true, it was too ridiculous, but how could this man be anything else? “I still remember where I was when I saw the headline on the news ‘The Fuhrer and Emperor Showa slain at peace summit!’. That was over twenty years ago and I still remember it like it was yesterday...people hugging and crying in the streets, bulletins that our troops were recapturing our lost territories…it was one of the most surreal moments of my life.”

“The Axis leaders were killed by my mentor.” Silas responded. “While the War ended, the Government began realizing a program to make sure that this country would never be under boot of a tyrant ever again.” Silas’s eyes burned coldly as he said this. “I am part of the program…you know us as the Night Angels.”

All was quiet as Cromwell stared at Silas in shock. That was impossible, Night Angels didn’t exist. They were merely these mythical warriors, this unseen force, dreamt up by the government as propaganda, a deterrent to keep the other countries from rise against the States. But no one actually believed that they existed, not really. Who could believe that one person could bring down entire governments, as they were reputed to have done. Supposedly, their workings is one of only reasons the U.S. is as powerful as it is.

“That’s not possible, they don’t exist.” Cromwell shook his head resolutely.

“Look at me, detective.” Against his will, Cromwell locked eyes with Silas. “I have no reason to lie to you…as you said. We do exist, though you only know us as a shadowed legend. We have spilled the blood of hundreds so that thousands may live.”

“But that would mean that you’ve killed people…” Cromwell muttered shakily, breaking off eye contact.

“Very good, you grasp the very core concept of what we do. We are both the shield and sword of this country. Trust me, here in the States you may not believe in us, but out there, we are nightmares to our enemies.” Silas said, his face emotionless. Cromwell thought it strange that he had so little emotion when telling him that he was a living reaper to the States’ enemies. There was nothing in those unsettling eyes, no intimidation or pride, just that eerily dead calm.

“Governments have been destroyed by the Night Angels, though.” Cromwell interjected. “You’re telling me that you can do that?”

“Regimes come and go. Sometimes they need a little assistance in leaving. Any government that we’ve ‘destroyed’ was already crumbling, we just deal the finishing blow.” Silas explained it all so calmly. It was so ludicrous, all this talk of international assassins, but as he explained it all, it couldn’t make any more sense to Cromwell.

“You keep saying ‘we’. You’re not the only one?”

“No, I am one of five.” Silas replied.

“Five. There are only five of you?” Cromwell asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“B-but that’s impossible. How could only five of you do all the things the Night Angels are reported to have done?” Cromwell’s hands began to shake at the possibilities. He noticed Silas’s eyes immediately dart to this sign of weakness and he smiled. It was an odd, guilty sort of smile, as if Silas enjoyed Cromwell’s mounting fear but was ashamed that he did.

“The world is bigger than you know…we’ve been the safeguarding this country for more than a decade. This country would be at war again, against worse than Germany and Japan, if not for us.” The fierceness in his eyes dimmed as he averted his eyes back to the table. “But that no longer matters…I am all that remains.”

“Just you?” Cromwell asked softly.

“Yes.” Silas said lowly as he glanced over the pictures still in front of him, pain openly displayed across his face. “Can you take these away…please?”

That soft plea shocked Cromwell more than the revelation of what Silas truly was. That broken request revealed a man that was burning in agony underneath that calm, cool exterior and that was a man that Cromwell didn’t want to face for the fear that he would burn as well. But there was no other choice.

“Of course.” Cromwell replied kindly as he cleared the photos off the table.