Chapter Text
It was a cold midnight today in Virginia. At that time the majority of regular workers had left for home, leaving Stanley walking alone over immaculate marble flooring, each step of his boots echoing in distant, empty hallways. He always wondered whether the gray and white checkered tiles were intentional to make these people feel as if they were part of a chess game.
Whether as players or peons, everyone knew the answer.
He walked his way onto the Director’s office, glancing lazily at the blue wall of the director’s gallery, half-lit cigarette in hand. He was not supposed to smoke inside, but today was Stanley’s last day at work, so what could they do? Fire him?
Though one could expect the office of the Director of CIA to be some sort of bunker-espionage-dark-room like the ones that appear on TV, in reality it is as average as a manager’s office at your local McDonald’s. A small room with big windows covered by blinds, and old and heavy mahogany desk, two dusty Persian rugs buckled at the ends and a flag of the United States. Ah, Stanley could almost smell the patriotisms. Oh, wait no, it’s just the glade apple cinnamon plug-in.
The current CIA Director was a black woman in her fifties. She was the first person of color to ever held that position, and the first woman as well. Though she had a solid background in foreign service and national affairs, and had demonstrated impeccable competence over the years, many of her opponents claimed that her appointment had been mostly political.
She motioned for Stanley to have a sit, not even mentioning his cigarette.
Stanley sat down, the chair slightly creaking upon his weight. “Well, what is this about? Are you giving me my ‘we’ll miss you’ gift, huh? After twenty years of loyal service, I hope it’s something better than an Arby’s gift card and another goddam CIA mug. I don’t have more space in my house for those. Might start giving them away.”
The director didn’t look off from the papers she was reading. She took a manila folder and threw it over to his side. Though she didn’t speak, Stanley understood the motion as ‘read this’.
Inside were a thick stack of paper, with the usual ‘CLASSIFIED’ printed in big bold red letters. Stanley sighed and flipped the first page. Inside, there was the profile of a man.
“Xeno Houston Wingfield.
Senior Scientist at the National Institute for Fusion Science (NIFS) of Japan.
Lead Scientist of Helium-3 Special Project.”
The photo showed a man with platinum-white hair styled into a sleek pompadour. His eyes were dark as obsidian, thick white eyebrows, deep dark circles, and a smile Stanley could only consider “too much sure of himself”. Though the man was undeniably attractive, there something else about him, about that smile. Something… weird, that Stan could not pinpoint just yet.
“Huh, he’s kinda cute. What, don’t tell me you’re trying to matchmake me again. I told you I’m not interested in relationships. I just want to take my hefty pension and move to a nice tropical country like, I don’t know, Costa Rica, and live the happy bachelor life.”
“Just keep reading.”
“Ugh, goddammit, what is this, high school again?” but Stanley kept reading. Below the man’s photo were some basic information such as his age (39), height, weight, type of blood, date of birth and some other shit Stanley didn’t care about. He kept reading until the next page, which contained a news note.
“Dr. Xeno has achieved unprecedented breakthrough research, producing Helium-3 at the Large Helical Device (LHD), the world’s second largest stellarator, located in Toki, Gifu, Japan. His outstanding team of scientists, including Dr. Senku and Dr. Chrome, have achieved what just a few years ago seemed impossible, maintaining the necessary heat conditions for continuous fusion reactions. This research means one step further to create fusion power plants, which would have the capacity of generating energy from the heat of nuclear fusion reactions.”
Stanley stopped reading with a heavy sigh. “I have no fucking idea of what this means.”
“Let me dumb it down for ya. Basically, this institute in Japan has managed to continuously produce an element that is a crucial fuel for nuclear fusion reactors. At the moment, such reactors are only a proposed form of power generation. Compared to other forms of nuclear power, this option is the safest so far and produces the least waste. The potential of this reactors is immeasurable. It could completely transform the world’s energy industry and… it could also produce nuclear weapons like it’s nothing.”
“Ah, I see. Now we’re speaking the same language. So this is the new space race, huh?”
“Yes, though originally the U.S. was concerned about China and their exorbitant spending in their nuclear program, so the news of Japan coming ahead of everyone in the race took us by surprise.”
“Well, it’s Japan. Nothing is surprising about those guys. So what? Worried that with our new presidency Japan will ally with China and bombard the U.S.?” he asked with heavy sarcasm.
“Nothing of the sort. The U.S. is not lacking on nuclear weapons, but it is the energy factor that concerns our national interest. That doctor… he’s the mind behind the research. An important mind that, upon the wrong hands, could be a threat to our nation. We need him on our side, at best, and at worst… simply out of the map.”
“So you’re sending the poor dude to the bottom of the sea.”
“If we find him uncooperative, yes, but that wouldn’t be the ideal case.”
“And has the president approved of this nice ‘field trip’?”
The director scoffed. Out of her front pocket she took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Oh, shit, things were serious. “The President is too busy with his own political agenda. We’re concerned about the interests of our country.”
“Nice, so while the conservatives are too busy trying to force women into having babies, you’ll be playing Cold War part two.”
“That’s one way to see it.”
Stanley pondered about it for a bit. Acting without executive approval was, at worst, an act of treason, and at best… an act of treason as well. Though which party is the one affected would depend on the outcome of such endeavor. Ugh, too much trouble.
“Mmm. Well. I wish you good luck. Better hope that smarty-pants is not secretly planning to take over the world with his evil science weapons. If not, Congress might make the guillotine legal just to trial all the involved parties” he snorted. “So? Are you giving me my gift-card or what?”
The director made a pause. Took a slow, deep drag of her cigarette, and spoke: “Snyder.”
Oh, no.
This is bad. Not ‘Stanley’, or ‘Stan’, or ‘You fucking brat’, but ‘Snyder’. Fuck, he was into deep shit.
“No.”
“I want you to lead this mission.”
“No. You’re crazy. No. Not in a million years. Not even after that. This is my last day here, or have you forgotten that? I have no shit to do in Japan. My flight for Costa Rica is booked already!”
“That’s not true. You don’t have the security clearance yet. Snyder, I need you to understand this not only a matter of national security. The interest of the world is on the line. This technology is revolutionary, and it cannot be on the wrong hands. We know almost nothing about this Dr. Xeno, besides what our spies have gathered through the years, but that is not enough. We need someone who can get close to him, who will be able to dig his darkest secrets, and who can determine if this man is a threat for our country or a spark of a hopeful future.”
“So, you want me to become his best of friends and decide?”
“Yes, Snyder. You shall decide whether Dr. Xeno should live or die.”