Jacob’s apartment was silent as he entered, with every light off. His grandfather wasn’t asleep on the couch, and Jacob could hear nothing as he shut the door behind him. Jacob froze in the entrance, not moving a muscle. Something was wrong, he could feel it. There was a light whirring sound, and Jacob slowly moved his hand to his waist to retrieve the cards his deck box had dispensed. He slowly put the cards in his left hand, then reached back down with his right to pull out his sidearm.
“Put the cards away Jacob.” A deep voice came from the kitchen table, which was shrouded in darkness. “We need to talk.”
There was a flash, and the room filled with light. Jacob squinted as he raised his firearm, pointing it at the large man who had cast a Card of Illumination. Jacob’s eyes slowly adjusted to the glow, provided by a hovering ball floating near the ceiling. His apartment was untouched, aside from a mysterious man sitting at the kitchen table. Jacob pointed his gun at him, before noticing who sat across from him. The station chief was also sitting at the table, sipping tea out of one of Jacob’s mugs. She looked at Jacob, and shook her head almost imperceptibly. Jacob lowered the gun, but didn’t place it back into its holster, nor replace the cards in his hand to his deck.
“Who are you?” Jacob said firmly “What are you doing here? Where is my grandfather?”
“Special Agent Felix Buchanan.” The mysterious man was dressed in an all black suit, including to the button down shirt and tie. His eyes were dark and his skin was pale, and he had closely cropped black hair. His movements were slow and controlled, and Jacob sensed if the man truly wanted to hurt him there was little he could do. Top of the line card equippers were tucked under both sleeves. The man reached into a jacket pocket and Jacob raised the gun again. The man didn’t flinch as he pulled out a GovID Card and slipped it into an equipper. A holographic image of his credentials appeared in front of him, verifying his identity. “National Intelligence.”
“National intelligence?” Jacob lowered his firearm, holding it loosely at his side. “There’s a contradiction in terms.”
“Do what they say Jacob.” The card chief said, a faint warning in their voice.
Jacob holstered his sidearm, and placed the cards he had drawn back into his deck . He walked over to the couch and leaned on the back of it, facing the kitchen table.
“Your grandfather is fine.” Buchanan removed their GovID from the equipper, and the hologram disappeared. They put it back in their pocket, and looked over at Jacob. “He’s on a walk with my partner, who’s currently attempting to get him to tell us everything. Though knowing Jacob Charles Olivier the First, he won’t say a word. The old man is stubborn on his best days.”
“Why are you here.” Jacob tried to keep his tone level. National Intelligence’s reputation was unambiguous: they were who you called when someone needed to disappear. Their official task was to stop terrorists, but it was well known their duties extended past that. The fact one of their agents was sitting at his kitchen table meant that this discussion was a matter of life and death. They were not to be trusted, even if they both worked for the same government.
“Don’t play dumb Jacob, we both know you’re smarter than you look.” Buchanan reached to the middle of the table, where Jacob’s kettle had been placed next to two more mugs. He poured tea into both, and slid one over to Jacob “Nakumori might not trust us, but he’s still a patriot. He called your boss as soon as you left his shop.”
“Nokumori-” Jacob started before Buchanan cut him off.
“Owns the card shop.” Buchanan took a sip of the tea, and gave it an approving look. “Witness protection. Helped us catch a criminal in the second internationals that had some foreign ties. So we moved him here.”
“Unfortunately for him.” the station chief said dryly “My phone is being tapped.”
“Every station’s lines are tapped.” Buchanan replied “As is every card shop’s. Standard Operating procedure.”
“And you wonder why no one trusts you.” Jacob reached forward and took the mug off of the counter.
“We’ve never wondered that.” Buchanan placed his mug on the table, then folded his hands in his lap. “I’ll cut to the chase Officer Olivier. We know you have an invite card. We know that card is genuine, and that only you can use it. Veronica Worth’s card proved as much when we did an analysis of it. Once it is opened and touched, only the person who found it can use it. How you found a sixth card when only five were produced is a mystery. What isn’t a mystery is our assignment for you.”
“For someone cutting to the chase, you sure are taking a while to get there.” Jacob took a sip of his drink “And last I checked, I work for the CEA. Not National Intelligence.”
“Government Re-assignment clause 17a; we’re transferring you over. Your security clearance has been raised two levels, you’re one of our assets now. Congratulations on the promotion, by the way.” Buchanan reached into his jacket again and pulled out a sleek black envelope. Jacob opened it and found a new GovCard ID inside, with his face and name. Like all National Intelligence ID’s it was a dark grey, with anti-view coatings added to make the card only visible at a direct angle. On the card was the same photo of him taken for his Card Enforcement Agency ID, with four lines of text:
Jacob Charles Olivier III
National Intelligence
Corporal
Security Clearance Level 4
Underneath the text was a holographic National Intelligence seal laid over a solid outline of Cascadia. It was simpler than other GovIDs, meant to serve solely as verification of his identity. All other information about his posting and job was considered classified.
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Jacob raised an eyebrow, and looked at Buchanan. The man stared back without smiling.
“So am I required now to kill off my sense of humor, or is it just a you thing to be dark, stoic and mysterious?” Jacob said sarcastically.
“Your assignment at Wonder Corp. is simple.” Buchanan continued “We have reason to believe that they’ve been manufacturing and supplying Shadow Cards. We also have reason to believe they have found a way to modify their machines to make them tournament legal. Our sources indicate they’ve produced a single such card, a Wonder Corp. version of Lamb of the Forgotten Apostle. A card I believe you have two of.”
“How do you know-”
“There’s very little we don’t know.” Buchanan finished his tea “You need to bring us one of those cards..”
“And if I refuse?”
“You’ve heard what happens to those who don’t follow our orders.” Buchanan stood up, and took his mug over to the kitchen “Bring us that card and we’ll re-assign you to your original station, with your new rank and pay becoming permanent.”
Jacob glanced at the station chief as Buchanan placed the mug in the sink. The chief shrugged, and poured herself more tea.
“Look.” Buchanan turned around to look at Jacob. “I’m an intelligence officer, not your friend. I’m a liar, and a swindler, and I manipulate people for a living. But for what it’s worth, you found things in the Archive we didn’t. I’m glad it’s you going in there, and not one of the heartless sociopaths working at my desk. Your family has served the country honorable since the beginning. We aren’t here to threaten you; but we need one of those cards.”
“What will you do once you have it?”
“Above your classification level. And mine to be frank.” Buchanan reached out a hand to Jacob “Welcome to National Intelligence.”
Jacob hesitated, before reaching out to shake it. Buchanan nodded at Jacob, then headed to the door. He opened it, then paused in the entrance. “I meant what I said by the way. I’m glad it’s you.”
He walked out of the apartment and closed the door. The floating ball of light illuminating the space fizzled out the moment it shut, and the station chief cursed under her breath. Jacob heard the sound of a card being drawn from a deck box, and another ball of light appeared near the ceiling as the station chief equipped her own Card of Illumination. The chief reached forwards and picked her mug back up, taking another sip of tea.
“Well Jacob.” The station chief said softly “Now you’re in the thick of it.”
“Do they have my apartment bugged?” Jacob looked around suspiciously, noting potential hiding spots for listening devices. They could be anywhere; hidden amongst the many shelves.
“They have every officer’s place bugged.” The chief sighed “It’s all a part of the job they don’t tell you about at the Academy.”
“How long have you known about this?”
“About the bugs? My whole career.” The station chief gulped down the rest of her tea like it was a shot of scotch, then placed the mug on the table “I was National Intelligence the first 5 years of my career. Cracked 2 or 3 big cases, then transferred to the Card Enforcement Agency. Only reason they let me leave is they wanted an asset in the CEA.”
“And you couldn’t say anything.”
“Not if I wanted a career, no.” The chief leaned back in her chair, her exhaustion showing on her face “By finding that card, you entered a dangerous world. Doesn’t matter whether you wanted it. You’ve joined a world of lies and secrets, and if you don’t give them what they want you’ll become one of those secrets. National Intelligence will manipulate and use you until there’s nothing left to lose, you can’t trust them.”
“Good thing I didn’t trust them to begin with.” Jacob finished off his tea, and put his mug on the table “What are they going to do with the card once I get it for them?”
“Likely nothing. It’s the evidence the card gives them that matters. They’ll invent a crime, and lay siege to the factory. They’ll take everything Wonder Corp. has. Including their machine. What they do after that? Impossible to know.” There was a knock at the door, and the sound of the lock turning. The station chief put down their mug, and stood to go.
“Be careful.” They said quietly “Trust absolutely no one, except for yourself.”
The door opened, and Jacob’s grandfather walked in. Another man in a dark suit stood outside. The man nodded at Jacob, then walked away from the front door of the apartment. His grandfather looked weary, like a great weight had been placed upon him.
“I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but good luck.” The station chief began walking to the front door, nodding at Jacob’s grandfather as she did. The old man gave a respectful nod back and the station chief left the apartment, closing the door behind her. The light fizzled out, plunging the room into darkness. The moon had risen since Jacob had gotten home, but it took his eyes a second to acclimate to the light they provided through the apartment windows.
“So.” Jacob’s grandfather walked over to the kitchen, and sat in one of the chairs “You found an Invite Card.”
Jacob reached into his thigh pocket, pulling out the golden card. He placed it on the table, and sat down across from his grandfather. The old man gently picked up the invite and looked it over. The metallic foil glinted in the moonlight, and his grandfather looked at the card like it was a great treasure. After a moment the old man placed it on the table, and rubbed his eyes. He looked at Jacob for a moment, then cleared his throat.
“Anything good in the rest of the packs?”
“You know,” Jacob chuckled “in all the excitement, I didn’t look at the other cards. I haven’t even opened the FateCo. Pack.”
“I’m guessing Nokumori made you get that one?” Jacob’s grandfather chuckled back. The old man reached for the teapot and poured himself a mug of tea. He sipped it, and closed his eyes in satisfaction “That’s good tea.”
“You knew the Shop Owner was Nokumori?” Jacob asked incredulously. His grandfather nodded without opening his eyes.
“I was at the first internationals, of course I knew it was Nokumori.”
Jacob looked at the rest of the room, deep in thought. The station chief was right. He had stepped into a much larger world, full of secrets and lies. Unfortunately for Jacob everyone around him had been playing the game for decades, while he was still at square one. He felt behind, a feeling he hated.
Jacob pulled the FateCo pack out of his pocket, and placed it on the table. He was about to reach for his deck box, when his grandfather held out a hand to stop him. The old man took another long sip of his tea, then sighed once more.
“I’ve had enough cards for one day.” His grandfather said “And I sense we have several long days ahead of us. The packs can wait until tomorrow.”
Jacob nodded, and tapped his equip box. It dispensed two sleep cards, one of which he held out to his grandfather.
“Seems we’ll have a lot to talk about.” Jacob said.
His grandfather grunted as he rose from the table, but didn’t respond. The old man took the sleep card from Jacob, and walked slowly over to the couch. He seemed more frail than usual, like his age was beginning to catch up to him. Jacob watched him worriedly; his grandfather had always been proud of how much he could still do, but Jacob suspected it was a ruse.
The old man lowered himself onto the couch, settled in, and equipped the sleep card. He fell into a heavy slumber almost immediately, while Jacob continued to sit at the table. He stared at the Invite card still sitting where his grandfather had placed it, gleaming in the moonlight. The bold words seemed almost ominous now; You’re Invited! seeming less and less welcoming as he looked at it. In one day a promise of opportunity had become an object of dread; he was a pawn now in a larger game.
Jacob forced himself to get up, walking over to the couch and pulling out his sleep pad from underneath it. He settled in for the night and equipped his sleep card, thinking of the invite on the table as the card pulled him under. He fell asleep troubled, almost hoping the invite would disappear in the night.
When he woke up, nothing would be the same.
Hunt for the Red October; the dialogue in this chapter continues those influences. There’s several lines almost directly quoted from those scenes, and the presentation scene in an earlier chapter is directly inspired by the surprise presentation Jack Ryan gave for the joint chiefs and representative of the president in the original film.
Atlantis the Lost Empire in this scene, with our hero coming home to a dark room and an ominous figure. Buchanan certainly isn’t as attractive as Helga St. Clair, but expect more pop culture influences from both Atlantis and Red October in the future.
trust in the cards…
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