Javier Almeida paced the floor of his office in nervous anticipation, it had been over 2 hours, far longer than normal to get a response from The Nucleus on a potential crisis of this magnitude. As Black Cell's station chief for Latin America he was accustomed to the methodical methods employed by the senior leadership, yet his patience was surely being put to the test. The small office was shrouded by a cloud of smoke, the result of endless pacing, cigarette constantly lit and in hand.

God damn old men, what could be more important than this right now

Almost as if on cue to his inner thoughts the secure sat phone began to ring, the telltale caller ID readout of UNKOWN NUMBER letting him know his waiting was finally at an end. Quickly he put out the stub with a single crushing motion then reached for his lifeline to the inner circle.

Javier - “The line is secure and I am alone, proceed”

The Man - “Do you have anything new to report?”

Javier - “Negative, all the Intel given in the prior reports still stand as current and with a high probability, personally I would classify it as a near certainty. My sources have determined that it will occur within a matter of days, a definitive time line is still being solidified. My prior recommendation stands, we need to redirect and focus all resources within range and prepare an offensive against their forces the moment they hit the ground.”

The Man - “Your assessment has been taken into account. At this time you are ordered to use all available surveillance resources, but you are not authorized to make any offensives against the invaders whatsoever.”

Javier pulled the phone away from his ear and looked shook his head in disbelief, while there had been orders he did not agree with before, this one left him almost speechless. His hand squeezed the handset, straining the plastic casing to its limits before calming enough to continue the conversation. Taking a single deep breath he placed the phone to his ear.

Javier - “I will need to request clarification sir, a cabal of metahuman persons of interest are preparing the invasion of a country, one that is supposedly under my jurisdiction, and you are telling me to just sit back and watch?”

The Man - “That is exactly what you are being told to do, and you will do it to the letter. I understand how you may feel about letting them into your backyard and shit on your lawn, but your feelings are secondary to the big picture.”

Javier - “I cannot see how letting this occur benefits us in any way.”

The Man - “There are two possible results from this action on their part. One is that their proposed invasion fails, likely resulting in a number of problematic metahumans being killed off in the process. Important pieces removed from the chessboard without any effort or expense on our part whatsoever. Our organization can continue to rebuild and fortify in secret, exposing ourselves at a time of our choosing and not blindly reacting to one of theirs.

Javier - “And the second?”

The Man - “The second is that they actually succeed and become the poster children for our cause, definitive proof of what happens when they are left unchecked. Recruitment and funding will reach record highs, expediting our own plans, which will in time come at their expense. Even in victory they will not come out of such a lofty ambition unscathed, their losses will only tilt the odds further into our favor. The way to win this game, is not to play, let them defeat themselves.”

Javier heard the sound of the line being disconnected from the other end, he had received all the explanation they deemed worthy and all that was left was to carry out their will. Returning to his seat at the cluttered desk he began what would become a very long night. Beginning the series of messages that would stand down the response teams and bring online every resource they had to monitor the situation as it unfolded.

Victor continued to feel more and more relaxed as the conversation continued. Deep down he knew he should still be terrified by the uncertainty about what awaited him after this discussion came to a close, but for or whatever reason it just became less and less a concern. There was no way to accurately describe his feeling at the moment, an undefinable combination of contentment and melancholy.

Victor - “Is it safe to assume that mistake was a costly one? I have a pretty good feeling the response could be described as biblical.”

The older man's demeanor and tone changed noticeably as he recalled the events that made up the aftermath of the betrayal. Whatever hints of respect suddenly soured into one of resentment, even tightly reigned anger. His grimace hidden as he stood and once again turned away from Victor, not wanting to show the loss of emotional control any more than he had already.

The Man - “The faction had spent years accumulating the resources needed to make a stand against the tide of metahuman aggression. Whatever could be siphoned away from any number of member states without their knowledge was taken for this cause. With it came the creation of an arsenal mankind had never seen before, unconventional weapons designed to combat the most unconventional of adversaries. The self proclaimed gods and kings were days from being evicted from Mount Olympus, destined to come crashing back down to the Earth. That is of course, before we saw the light.”

Victor - “Saw the light? You mean they had a change of heart and decided not to go through with the operation?”

The Man - “No young man, the light given off by the nuclear device he set off at our staging ground for the planned attack. The structure was primarily underground and only served to add to the potency of such a weapon, in a fraction of a second, the bulk of our instruments of war were vaporized. Simultaneously, we began to be informed that the secure data room of the complex had been accessed just before its destruction. A digital assassin was let loose to spread devastation across our networks, designed to seek and destroy every piece of intelligence and technology it could find without restraint or remorse. His knowledge of the factions operations proved to be far more advanced than had ever been expected, the damage caused was as swift as it was far encompassing. Scars our cause have yet to see fully mended even to this day.

Victor was beginning to feel so very tired, blissfully unaware that his altered physical symptoms were not caused solely by a perceived panic attack, but the carefully synthesized contact poison that had been applied to the papers he had flipped through earlier. The older man could see the complex substance had already robbed Victor of most voluntary motor control, and knew the time was short before his life would follow. The Man had been specific in his choice of this particular poison as much due to the humane nature of its effects, as well as its proven lethality. There was no absolutely no pain involved, and the victims mental faculties were dulled to the point they would never realize their predicament until it was too late, avoiding anguish over their fate.

The Man - “I would have brought you in young man, made you one of us, but that was simply not my call to make. Too many others believed you not to be worth the risk, but after our short time together I am now assured of their error in the matter. I no longer know if you can even still understand what your being told, but you should know that you should be proud of all your efforts. You did fine work that did not go entirely unnoticed no matter how often it seemed to be. May you gain comfort knowing you were part of something greater, even if you were never aware of it.

The older man used two fingers to close Victor's eyes for the final time, helping him towards the eternal sleep that awaited him with as much dignity as could be offered. He would never fully condone the lives of young soldiers being sacrificed at the whims of old politicians, but the cause was bigger than any single individual. His business here was now complete, no more to be gained by lingering further, and there were others eagerly awaiting his report. As he opened the door to the office to leave, the awaiting two man disposal team gave a single nod of understanding before passing by and closing the door behind themselves. Reaching into his pocket he took out the secure sat phone and dialed a number from memory.

The Man - “The interrogation is complete.”

(Pause to listen)

The Man - “The subject has found new Intel of a related nature, but none of it can be definitively tied to the project, or offer us anything of value.

(Pause to listen)

The Man - “It was always understood that the project could never be completely covered up, nothing this big ever stays buried forever. Investigations will continue to slowly grow in intensity, making it only a matter of time before a person of interest takes note. All we can do is continue with the plan, even with what is generally accepted as his continued interference.

(Pause to listen)

The Man - “I am not going to even pretend to assume to know what his intentions are at this point. It's been 3 years and there has been no confirmed contact with the UN or the outside metahuman community to our knowledge. Our only concern should be to accelerate the process in any way possible to offset the setbacks as they accumulate.”

(Pause to listen)

The Man – “Black Cell will not fail a second time, audemus jura nostra defendre.”

Victor sat there in stunned silence, his already fragile psyche stretched thin from dealing with his personal safety being at such a tipping point. Now faced with a revelation that shattered any preconception he had about his research, not to mention concrete verification that it was no urban legend haunting the back rooms of the UN. It was simply all too much for a reluctant investigator only 3 years out of Georgetown University. He could feel himself close to becoming physically ill, his arms unconsciously wrapping around his waist.

Why is he telling me this? Do I really want to know this much? God I feel like shit.

Victor – “That’s a pretty hard story to swallow, one guy doing all the heavy lifting, and in all that time no one out there ever put two and two together?”

The older man finally turned away from the wall and brought his cold stare back to Victor’s quickly deteriorating form. There was suddenly a marked change in his expression, and as he spoke his voice took on an almost respectful tone.

The Man – “To be fair there were others, at least for a time, but it began and ended with him. As for how he did it? He was a ghost, in the machine, the battlefield, behind the scenes. We’re talking about an operative who could come and go as he pleased with no one else the wiser. Dozens of documented, and god knows how many still unknown metahuman aliases he would slide in and out of like a well fitted jacket. This was a man that reported only to the United Nations Security Council, and they didn’t even know who he really was.”

Victor – “What do you mean they didn’t know who he was, how does something like that even happen?”

Even with the nausea the tone of disbelief was evident, even if The Man had no reason to lie to him, it was impossible to hear such a statement and not at least consider calling bullshit. His mind was going in a dozen directions at once and he was not sure if he was more scared of him being deceived, or being told the truth at this point.

The Man – “You’re too green to remember what things were like 8 years ago, the metahuman situation was even more like the Wild West than it is now. If you want to know the number one way to get politicians scared, it’s to show them someone they cannot control, something they are completely unqualified to handle. Conventional military power had proven to be woefully ineffective, and metas got tired of robbing armored cars and elevated themselves towards building personal empires. Needless to say their backs were against the wall. When a potentially clean and anonymous solution presented itself they took a chance, the rewards worth the considerable risk.

Victor began to hold his arms against himself tighter, the perspiration from his cold sweat now stained the entire front of his shirt. The feelings of nausea began to pass and he felt himself calming slowly, his breathing falling to a far more relaxed pace. For the moment he was past wondering why he was being included on such a conspiracy, he simply needed to know that his work had not been for naught.

Victor – “You spoke of him in past tense, is he dead?”

The Man – “Nobody really knows for sure, but a lot of people would sleep better at night if that was the fact. Not only did he have security clearances worldwide that most did not even know exist, but also direct access into our entire intelligence exchange, not that we knew about it. I’m not sure we would even know if he was still in there unless he wanted us to know. Now just think that scenario over, a man who parted ways with the UN almost 3 years ago, and not under anything close to the best of circumstances. Add to that detailed knowledge of any one of a countless number of covert actions and black operations floating around that brain of his.

It did not take a genius to figure out where the story was leading to. If this man knew a tenth of what they suspected he did, there was not a nation on earth who would rest easy with him in the wild and off the reservation. Still breathing he was a walking potential international incident, and that’s not to mention what the repercussions could be if the metahuman community learned of untold offences against their kind.

Victor – “I can see what you mean about him being a threat, but if he has been gone for 3 years without a peep…sounds to me like if he was going to burn someone he would have done it by now. There must be more to the story, starting with why he left in the first place.

The older man took a seat at the front edge of the desk. One could catch an almost imperceptible grin as he watched the wheels turn in the young investigators head. He was laying the trail of breadcrumbs and the young man had yet to disappoint him in following. While his personnel file did not show anything extraordinary, the boy showed promise.

The Man – For all his successes in keeping events in check, there have always been other factions within the UN that subscribed to a more, let’s say, permanent solution to the problem. They viewed him as an obstacle keeping them from realizing their plans and tired of the status quo made a move against him. What followed was an unforgivable betrayal, one that left the others he had recruited into his cause murdered by those they considered trusted allies. A cadre of young and talented trainees that had been under his personal instruction, he was very protective of them and considered their well being solely his responsibility.

Victor found the story difficult to accept, it was hard to even fathom that there were elements within the UN capable of actions like this, regardless of the circumstances. He was getting an accelerated education in the politics of covert actions, and it was leaving a sickening feeling in his gut.

Victor – “What happened next?”

The Man – “The ghost came back to haunt them.”

Victor sat there in silence, not sure how, or even if he should respond to the question. All he could do at this point was accept the unrelenting stare being given to him by The Man. He was a junior researcher turned reluctant investigator, nothing in his training ever covered handling a situation even resembling this one. Frayed nerves and the complete loss of any sense of control left him with a cold sweat soiling his white dress shirt and a quickly paling face. Even before today he was already a very tired and frustrated young man and this was only serving as a breaking point into what he was sure was his first panic attack.

Victor – “ I’m not saying a damn word until you tell me what’s going on, if your some kind of big-shot Cold War era spook you could have just read the 7 months worth of weekly reports I’ve submitted.”

The Man finally broke his stone gaze as he watched Victor lash out. He could see how perilously thin his false bravado was, and knew a dozen ways he could break him and put him in his place were the need to do so suit him. Yet that was not his intent, none of that was necessary at this point. The boy was useless without his wits about him, and the last thing he could risk was losing out on an opportunity for progress in his own search for answers.

The Man – “An expected response under the circumstances, allow this to take the place of more conventional means.”

With a nonchalant shove a thick manila envelope slid off the desk and onto Victor’s lap, the contents nearly spilling across the beige carpeted floor before being caught at the last second. The Man never broke eye contact for even a moment, always maintaining the dominant position in this exchange. His pride would never allow him to say it out loud, but this old man scared the hell out of him.

The Man – “ I’ll give you a minute to soak it in and then we are going to have to get down to brass tacks. I am a very busy man and my time is always a commodity in short supply.”

Victor finally broke off eye contact and began to flip through the file on his lap. It only took moments to realize what he had in front of him, yet he continued to leaf through the file hoping it to be a figment of his paranoid imagination. Not only was every single classified report he had ever submitted among the pages, so were his personnel file, psychological profile, and every report card from the 2 grade on.

Are you f’ing kidding me, who is this guy?

Victor – “This is pretty much my entire f’ing life. Why are you showing me this?”

The Man – “ Because when you don’t have a name and a title to fall back on, that little trick does wonders for your credibility. Now relax before you pop a blood vessel in your head, I still have need of it. Your every move has been under surveillance since the moment you took over the investigation, there are quite a few concerned parties due to the subject.”

Victor began to rub his hands across his haggard face, the magnitude of the situation he found himself in continuing to sink in. The endless hours spent underground in his dusty private hell were becoming fond memories in comparison to where he found himself at this moment. He was smart enough to know that he had been pulled into someone else’s political game and he had no say in the matter. The Man held all the cards and all he could do at this point was play along and pray there was light at the end of the tunnel.

Victor – “ Alright, I’ve seen enough spy movies, I know the drill. I’m your bitch and you own me, why don’t you just tell me exactly what you want so I can get this over with as soon as possible.”

The Man – “ I want you to tell me what you believe based on the reports you have written, and the parts you have left out because your superiors only wanted facts and not opinions.”

Victor had no illusions about what he was being asked, there was no question now that his very life may depended on his answer, and yet he was nowhere near savvy enough in spycraft to know how to spin the conversation to his advantage. Knowing he was short of options and as lost as one could be, all he really had was to tell the truth and hope that The Man still had use for him.

Victor – “ I believe that the United Nations, or an element within have been responsible for directing black operations against an unspecified number of targets, but focusing primarily on the metahuman community. All of this has apparently been accomplished completely off the books, and the identities, much less the very existence of said operatives seems to be very much in question. All I can assume at this point is that there is a presently unaccounted for unit housed somewhere on the globe. A unit whom have been active for years and with access to incredible amounts of intel and resources allowing them an uncanny ability to operate at such a scale without ever making themselves known.

The Man stood up from his chair, slowly turning his back to Victor as he admired the ornately framed copy of the United Nations Charter hung on the wall before him. The kid lacked balls but he was no fool, while still devoid of any proof he was far closer to the truth than any outsider before.

The Man – “You are missing the fine print, but that is a respectable hypothesis based on what little you have to work with. All except for the part that there is, I correct myself, was no clandestine unit, essentially it was just one man.”

I should have my head checked, there is no question of that, unless of course they changed the medical plan again and that’s now out of pocket.

Victor was once again having a conversation with himself, a disturbing trend, but a necessary one to ease the isolation. Almost no one ever had reason to visit this deep within the bowels of the United Nations headquarters in New York City. These sub-levels having been designated as a glorified storage closet decades ago. The tired and drab décor pre-dated the Carter administration and only furthered the worsening of his mood. No matter how he stretched his neck he was treated to the same panoramic view, nothing but endless stacked cardboard boxes and a rainforest worth of paper.

F—k my life…I might blow someone for a Red Bull right now, a hand job for sure.

His eyes went back to the table in front of him and the task at hand, the seemingly hopeless attempt to finish an investigation started by a now despised supervisor upon his retirement. It was hard to remember there was a time when he thought of this as his golden ticket towards a promotion to a scenic foreign posting and not the one way ticket to professional purgatory it was turning out to be. Forced to continue an investigation 99% of the UN thought was an urban legend, and the 1% that might actually know would not give him the time of day.

Nobody is going to talk to me, even if there is any truth to it. These are the kinds of things that don’t end careers, they end regimes. God, I would toss the Secretary General’s salad if it meant getting reassigned.

Even with the temporary increase in his security clearance he had not made much progress since taking over the investigation. Like his predecessor a search through the shared international networks came up with nothing, only by going through paper files and backups by hand did any evidence come to the surface. Data accumulated from dozens of unrelated sources hinted into the possibility of United Nations sanctioned operations directed towards everything from the geopolitical to the metahuman community. But that is all he had, bits and pieces, there was nothing to tie any of it to a specific person or department. Not a single authorization form, budget request, nothing, if this was real it was as far off the books as anything he had ever seen, much less heard of.

Security Officer - “Mr. Cardenas?”

Victor jumped out of his chair like he had just been stuck with a taser, the endless hours and solitude had taken its toll on his nerves, the idea of another person down here with him had completely left his mind long ago.

Victor – “ Jesus, maybe a knock in the future? You scared the shit out of me. Yeah I’m Vic Cardenas”

Security Officer – “I’ve been sent to escort you to the Inspector General’s office immediately, please collect your things.”

It took a few seconds for the order to sink in, and the serious look on the officer’s face ensured this was not a joke. The Inspector General was based out of Geneva, not New York, and no part of his investigation should be of any concern to them. Yet it was an excuse to get out of the dungeon and maybe see some actual sunlight for a change so who was he to argue. Victor quickly collected his things into his attaché case, slid on his now dusty suit jacket, and followed the security officer back to the elevator.

Victor – “ This is probably a stupid question, but do you have any idea what this is about?”

Security Officer – “ No I do not, and yes it was a stupid question”

Victor shot him a look, his sense of humor pretty much shot at this point, then just shook his head and let it go. As the elevator doors opened they began to take a path through the facility that involved sections he did not know existed even after over three years on the job. The further they went the tighter the security became, both of them were breathing air way out of their pay grade now, he was used to being surrounded by analysts, not ambassadors.

I am way out of my depth here, and of all the days to wear my shitty two year old Brooks Brothers suit, everybody is probably looking at me like a little kid wearing his dad’s clothes.

The security officer stopped in front of an office door at the far end of a long hallway free of activity. The door was left open and sitting at the desk was a well dressed older man, one with a more than passing resemblance to Gene Hackman. Victor was waved into the room and took the seat directly in front of the desk, the sound of the door shutting behind him only making the situation that much more disconcerting. Almost the moment the door was shut and the two men were ensured to be alone did the man finally speak. His tone was direct and authoritative; his face showed that this was not his first clandestine meeting under dubious intentions.

The Man – “Let me start out by clearing the air. I do not represent the Inspector General’s Office in any capacity, my name is unimportant so do not bother asking, and this meeting never happened. That said, you are now going to tell me everything you know and have learned about Project: REDACTED”

God hates me