Nearby Harbin District

Rachel Farnsworth looked upon the vast landscape as a multitude of queries circled her mind as to what the real endgame of her bizarre and impromptu assignment was. An investigative journalist by profession, fresh out of grad school Rachel had been sent on a surreptitious assignment to gather intel about something only known as "The Togo unit". Rachel reminiscences about an abrupt phone call she received a few weeks ago when she was contacted by a mysterious figure that has led to her current predicament.

"Ms. Farnsworth, we require your services for a very urgent matter of national security."

"I'm sorry, who is this? And how exactly did you get my contact?"

"Pardon this unannounced invitation call but there is something that needs our attention and we require your assistance"

"Who's this 'we' am I speaking to exactly? "

"Well... that's strictly on a need-to-know basis Ms. Farnsworth. It is a matter of urgent national security, so I am afraid I won't be able to entertain your dubieties any further than I have already disclosed. You will be receiving further instructions from us and we expect your full unmitigated cooperation."

"And how will I find this so-called contact of yours huh? I don't even know him or her for that matter."

"Ever the perceptive journalist, but I'm extremely sorry, that's classified as of now and since this is an unsecured line, so for obvious reasons I can't disclose any further. The only information that I have for you now is you will be receiving a yellow manila envelope shortly and it will contain the next set of instructions for you to follow. Don't worry Ms. Farnsworth, our contact will find you."

After the unknown caller had abruptly hung up, Rachel stood in her bedroom for a few minutes, drenched and soaking in perspiration more from fear than the summer heat, completely dumbstruck. A mysterious phone call in the middle of the night made little to no sense. This has to be an elaborate prank orchestrated by someone she knew she thought.

The next day after returning from her office she had stepped into the shower for a hot bath when her doorbell rang. She ignored it for the first time casually dismissing it to be a prank by her neighbor's kids. Jerry and his little sister had been pulling this prank for a week now. At first, it was sort of amusing but now it teetered on a nauseating disturbance. It rang again!

"Well, that's a new one," she thought.

The kids usually did this once in a day after she had returned from her office in the evening but they never repeated it, let alone in such quick succession. Hastily wrapping around a bathrobe, she had dashed for the door when she was greeted by a young boy handing her over a fruit basket filled with apples, oranges, pears, etc.

"But wait a minute I didn't ask for this. Who sent you?"

But before she could turn to look around, the boy was nowhere to be seen as if vanished without a trace.

"That's strange who would send her a fruit basket" she mused for a moment. She quickly notices the boy across the street being handed a 10-dollar note from a black sedan parked which quickly left. As she went through the fruit basket, she discovered a yellow manilla envelope with a 'Top Secret' seal on its front. Inside it, there was a set of instructions about her cryptic assignment. Rachel stood to comprehend what the hell had just happened. The head of the CIA had left her with a secretive message and it will involve her traveling alone to the Pingfang district to investigate something only referred to as the 'Togo Unit'. There she is to be united with the agency's appointed man who will offer her a red matchstick, holding it upside down as a means of communicating. Rachel had taken up her residence in a seedy motel upon her arrival and had been waiting for further instructions. She had waited for a full day but still, no one had approached her or even thrown a dubious at her look for that matter.

"To hell with it," she said to herself as she left the motel for an afternoon stroll with her camera for clicking some pictures.

Photography had been a favorite pastime for her since her early school days. That was one of the primary reasons she had taken up journalism as her career choice... to travel to exotic locations and capture their undiscovered natural beauty. As she had been clicking some pictures, she had unknowingly strolled by the beach side where the setting sun, glazed like a burning fireball with an intense blaze, when she noticed two hulking figures stalking her footsteps. She had known that the figures had been following her from the local market and had already armed herself with a pocket knife she had picked up from a local fruit seller. As the two figures approached her, she prepared to defend herself and a brawl ensued but quickly she was no match for them. The figures quickly overpowered her and were about to deliver their final blow when a mysterious man out of nowhere intervened. The man looked caucasian, although in the waning dusk it was hard to determine his exact features. A brutal altercation among the trio resulted in broken bones and jaws with occasional spurts of blood on their shirts. The mysterious man had initially some trouble subduing the duo but he managed to do it nonetheless. He reached for his concealed gun tucked in his left leg and fired two fatal shots claiming their lives, and shocking Rachel.

"What the hell? Who are you? Why did you kill them?"

"That's a very weird way of you to show gratitude," the man said. "In case you haven't noticed they were trying to kill you, had I not arrived here on time, you would have been dead. But I must say you are a crafty one Ms. Farnsworth, I'll give you that. You gave us all the slip, twice I might add, once in the market and next in the meandering villages."

"I wasn't sure whether you were here to kill me or help me," she said. "And how do you know my name? I don't recall meeting you ever before"

"What does it look like I am trying to do here?" the man said.

By now Rachel was certain that the man was American judging by his accent, most probably from the South of Bronx locale. His obsidian hair was cut short with a dash of greying along the edges of his temple, which was now in a frenzy and he stood nearly 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and sinewy muscles. He introduced himself as Alan Robertson and offered her a cigarette with a matchstick on the other hand.

"Thanks, but I don't smoke" she refused curtly.

Alan still held out the matchstick, while putting the cigarette on his lips when Rachel noticed something that clicked in her mind. Alan was holding out a matchstick, a red one to be very specific and that too upside down. Finally, the conundrum was resolved.

"So, you are the supposed contact I was assigned to meet here"

"Very astute of you, but I am afraid time is of the essence and we must hurry."

"I'm sorry, but what the hell is exactly going on here?" Rachel replied.

"Come on, I'll tell you on the way" he motioned to a nearby parked motorbike.

As Alan had reached for Rachel's hand, she hesitated for a moment before she finally gave in and they head out for the town. While traveling Alan discloses that he's a C.I.A agent sent here undercover to investigate the Togo Unit, a secret paramilitary unit headed by a mysterious Japanese army general who is planning to usurp the balance of the war. Along with that, there has been a slew of rumors of some kind of animal attacks that has been haunting these grounds ever since the Togo Unit has been commissioned.

"I have been investigating the bodies left in the animal's wake but there's nothing of the sort I have ever come across, to be honest, and there's plenty I have seen, even in my line of work. The corpses were massacred beyond description and even some cattle fodder dried off their blood."

"You think they might be related?"

"I'm not entirely sure but for the time being, I'm treating them as separate cases"