12/14/2257. 10:15 Hector Airport, Fargo, North Dakota.

John got off the plane in Fargo. He was given the assignment five minutes after he got to work in Miami. A special assignment just for him. His plan for the day basically changed so he had to go back to his apartment, pack a bag and then head to the airport and board the flight to Fargo.

“Mother fuckers really sent me here. It’s negative twenty out and a blizzard is rolling in and I have fuck all for cold gear.”

John was complaining in the terminal to anyone that would listen. No one especially cared about his opinions though. The locals were already hardened by this god-awful weather and didn’t really care to hear about an outsider’s complaints about their weather.

John headed down to the baggage carousel and sure enough, his gear was the last one that appeared on it. Another letter was threatened to be written. Afterward, he went over to the rental car counter to get his car. He was not dressed appropriately for this weather, so his first stop was going to be the local sporting goods store.

Thirty minutes later he pulled into the Scheels parking lot and got out of his car and ran inside. He was wearing nothing more than jeans and a light Navy pullover. It was still freezing out and didn’t feel any warmer as the sun rose in the morning sky. Twenty-five minutes and nine hundred fifteen dollars later he was properly equipped to handle the weather. John was going to expense all of this overpriced gear to the Miami station. When he left the store, it somehow managed to get worse outside. The blizzard had begun rolling into the area.

“How the hell do they live here? It is awful out here.”

A college-aged student walked by and heard that, “Lots of booze dude. Lots of it.”

John laughed and headed back to his car. He had to head to the south part of town to interview two people about what they witnessed when they worked at the Naval Warehouse in Miami during the fall. Supposedly some weapons were sold or given to an individual of ill-repute and these two were fired for not helping cover it up.

The interview lasted an hour, and their stories backed up what the recovered videos showed. The blizzard was in full force now. The temperature had dropped to negative thirty, the windchill was worse at negative sixty-five. The winds were also gusting to thirty miles per hour, and it was snowing heavily out. There was effectively no visibility when you got out of the city. And the best part about the blizzard was all flights out of Fargo had been canceled.

John was in the car letting it warm up. He made a call to his temporary boss, “Mark, have I told you how much I hate cold weather? Thanks for this winter vacation to the center of fucking winter in the States.”

“Are the interviews complete?” Mark ignored the color commentary.

“Results have been forwarded, they also had an audio recording of the convo, which syncs up to the video we have. Story checks with everything that’s been uncovered so far.”

“What’s this expense report attached to your report?”

John slowly pulled out of the parking lot while the call was going on and was slowly heading to the hotel. The streets were in awful shape.

“You sent me to a place that’s cold as hell without proper clothing. Need I remind you of the regs?”

John heard Mark sigh loudly, “Very well it’s approved. I presume you’re getting a hotel room?”

“I’m heading there now. Airlines aren’t rescheduling any flights yet. Looks like this blizzard is going to stick around until 18:00 tomorrow. Got a few ideas to get back to base tomorrow night though.”

“I’m not approving a private flight. That means you won’t be back until Wednesday afternoon?”

“That’s assuming they are caught up with flights. Can’t drive to Sioux Falls or the Twin Cities, the blizzard is heading easterly. Sioux Falls is getting slammed now and the Twin Cities will be hit in an hour. I can try to get back tomorrow but if you tell me no tricks then Wednesday is more likely.”

“Very well. Stay out of trouble. You’ll be on call during the day in the event we need anything from you.”

“Roger.”

John drove into the hotel’s parking lot and found a spot near the front door. He grabbed his backpack and headed into the hotel. They were nearly out of rooms and only had the nicer suites left. That wasn’t a bother to John though. A nicer room would be welcome in the mess he found himself in. He went up to his room and dropped his junk off. After using the bathroom, he headed back toward the lobby to have dinner at the restaurant there. Had the weather not been awful he’d take three or so hours out of his day to go visit Andern.

While he was waiting for his meal, he logged into Delta’s ticketing service and managed to get his flight rescheduled for a 19:00 flight the following day to the Twin Cities followed by a red eye home back to Miami. Shortly after his meal arrived and he enjoyed it quietly. The wind was absolutely howling outside but inside the hotel here, it was almost eerily quiet despite the abundance of guests staying there that evening.

The exercise room in the hotel was not all that great. This wasn’t a big shock to John though. Your typical small city hotel doesn’t have an extensive selection of equipment. He made do with what was in front of him. When he got back to his hotel room, he called Alice.

“Where are you? Is that snow on the window?” Alice looked overjoyed to see John.

“Fargo. Turns out there’s a fucking blizzard going on outside. Was so nice of the field office to send me here.”

Alice started laughing, “It’s sixty-five degrees out right now. Some of my friends and I went shopping earlier. They all complimented the necklace by the way.”

“Turns out your boyfriend has good taste, right?” John laughed, “The overnight low is expected to get down to negative forty-five with a windchill range negative fifty to ninety depending on the wind. Ugh.”

“Hey, at least we’re under two weeks until we can see one another again. It feels weird that I can’t see you at breakfast or walk to class with you.”

“Same here. But can’t say that I’m missing classes.”

“Says the guy who can’t fail a test,” they both laughed at that.

They ended up talking for another hour. After that John opted to just go to bed. He was cold and tired.

Friday, Christmas Eve. 08:00 Miami Field Office

John walked past the security station in the Intelligence building and was on his way to the fourth floor. The winter clothing, he purchased last week remained in the same place he dropped them when he got back to his base apartment. The winter clothing was completely unnecessary to him now, but he’d figure he’d just give it to Andern. He walked over to his desk and logged into the terminal.

His desk phone was ringing, “John, conference room eight, now.”

Mark had a sense of urgency in his voice.

He got up and walked over to the room and entered, “Morning.”

“John, take a seat and a look at the dossier,” Mark, Jess, and Damian were all looking worried.

“We received this message from Alliance High Command. They requested capturing this individual alive and would like our assistance in apprehending him,” Damian said.

“You’re fucking with me, right?” John said.

John skimmed through the dossier, and he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Fleet command has confirmed the request,” Jess said as she was cross-checking something at her terminal.

“And we’d help them because…” John let that one hang.

“Political favors. Please be a bit more open-minded John,” Mark answered, “He’s in Miami too. And you’re going to go visit him.”

“Stealth suit or power armor?”

“Neither he’s expecting you,” Mark said, “Before you ask, he is turning himself in, but the caveat being he wanted to speak with you personally.”

“And we’d trust him because?” John was not convinced.

“He has some information that he’d like to give to Fleet command, and to you specifically. After which he agreed to be extradited.”

“Where is he?”

“Damian and Jess will drive you to him. He’s staying in the Hilton Suites downtown.”

“Lead the way.”

John got up and went back to his desk. He grabbed a couple of things from his desk and a sidearm. Jess and Damian took their tablets and followed him to the elevator.

“Hey sexy, thought you’d be going back into the field so soon?” Jess smiled, “Oh wait, am I even allowed to flirt with you anymore?”

“So, you know about Alice then, eh?”

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“Sure do, you know how to pick them,” Jess smiled but it looked a bit forced.

“Want to talk about it and make your coworker uncomfortable?”

“Please, no, anything but that,” Damian interjected.

“Maybe at dinner. You’re buying,” Jess said as the elevator closed.

09:15 Hilton Suites, Downtown Miami

Forty-five minutes later, with a small but annoying traffic jam and no shortage of yelling at asshole drivers the group got to the hotel. Damian and Jess were going to wait in the commons room of the floor they were going to. John would go into the room alone. They were setting up their gear as John headed towards the room their target was in. He looked down the hall and saw the thumbs up from Jess.

John knocked on the door, he could hear someone shuffle over to the door. The door then opened.

“Apologies for the drama. Please come in. I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you much,” In front of John stood a man that appeared to be at least a hundred years old if not more, “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Dr. Alfred Biern.”

“John Lief, but you already knew that. I was led to believe you had information you wanted to hand over to Fleet Command. Along with some information to me directly.”

“Yes, yes, please sit down,” the old man shuffled awkwardly over to his chair.

John walked over to his chair and tipped it on the side to check the bottom of it.

“I can assure you that you aren’t in any danger from me. In fact, I’d dare say even in my prime I doubt I could have hurt you.”

“With all due respect Dr. Biern, let’s cut through the bullshit. Why are you really here and why did you have to speak to only me?”

“Have you ever wondered why you were genetically gifted?” John didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“Yes, I have. Genetics is a hell of a thing. I suppose you know something then?” John leaned back in the chair.

“Oh yes, they are. I was involved in a genetic modification trial years ago,” the old man was eager to share this information.

“Is the implication that you were involved in ascending by great grandparents? Did they run from your freaky experiments and end up in Confed space to escape you?”

“Not exactly. They both were Alliance citizens. Born on Meridian Minor but got involved with a cult that was trying to create their messiah. They helped create you. The Alliance was aware of what they were doing but did nothing to stop it as they hadn’t broken any laws. When you were born, they ran away.”

“To Mendes 8, so the pirates that purged that colony were the pissed-off cultists following them?” John said without emotion.

“The cult had its grip in parts of the Alliance. I’m surprised, I had figured you’d show some sort of emotional response.”

“Hard to be emotional about it. I was less than a year old. I don’t remember a thing,” John pulled out his pistol, a Sig Sauer P410, and held it over the table, “Alright, so look here. I don’t appreciate being lied to or dicked around. So I’m going to ask you some questions and you are going to answer them truthfully.”

John was fuming inside. This situation screamed of a setup. He had discovered the truth about his parents midway through the school year during a calculus class that he wasn’t paying attention to.

“You say my parents were members of a cult that the Alliance had conducted genetic experiments on and was spying on because they were trying to create the perfect child?”

“Yes, in hindsight the military should have done something.”

John sighed and frowned, “The problem with that, beyond it being a damned lie, is that my parents were originally from Vega Prime, within Confederate space. My birth father was a geneticist, mother was a tennis pro. Both of them were superiors that did have a degree of genetic modification to them while they were in utero. So, with that information in hand, would you like to restate your statement, or would you prefer I continue?”

“Please continue,” the old man stammered.

“I can tell that you have an augmented eye that’s taking detailed scans and I suspect there’s an augment in your hand or nose that would allow you to scan my genetic code. See, they did a great job making you appear old, the problem is your mind doesn’t have the tell-tale signs of age. Can’t fake that.”

The old man was visibly nervous. His heart rate had increased substantially. Sweat was beginning to form on his forehead.

“If I had to guess, I’d say you were a deep cover agent, and this was a means of extracting you through official channels. Oh, and your attempt to contact your handlers in the room next to you won’t work. My coworkers have already incapacitated them. And that attempt to transmit the data that you acquired won’t be going through. Being jammed by this,” John tossed a circular device onto the bed, “Don’t bother trying to turn that off, there’s one outside the door.”

The old man tensed up and was about to move, but John reacted quicker. His right thumb flicked the safety off while his left hand was wrapping around the pistol’s grip as he brought the sites to bear. John fired a single eleven-millimeter round from the firearm. It struck the “doctor” right between the eyes. The round exited the back of his skull in a spray of gore and brain matter. The bullet had embedded into the metal support between the windowpanes.

“Stupid bastard.”

The doors flew open. Damian and Jess had run in after getting the Alliance agents apprehended in the other room.

“Jesus Christ! John, what the hell?”

Jess wasn’t prepared to see the mess he had created. Blood and brain matter was splattered on the window and there was a bloody mess on the floor where the dead Alliance agent lay.

“Issue resolved. Now we get to tell the Alliance to fuck off with their deep cover agents and they can try to explain this abuse of diplomatic channels. Let’s call this a win-win,” John flicked the safety back on and holstered his gun, “Damian, call a cleaning crew here. Least we can do for the hotel.”

“Damnit, you know how much extra paperwork we’re going to have to fill out now?” Jess asked.

“Yeah, I suspect about three hours’ worth. Maybe more,” John said nonchalantly as he walked past them, “I’ll cover the elevator, make sure no one comes onto the floor.”

A couple of people had to be told they couldn’t go to their room. When they argued with John, he just rotated to the side to show them his sidearm. Compliance was achieved after that. Twenty minutes later both elevators opened and had relief agents that allowed Jess, Damian, and John to head back to base. When they got back to base John was hauled off to a conference room to explain why the agent had to be killed. He was on his right and the video clearly showed they were going to attack John.

“Look, those Alliance types can say they are appalled at our approach, but their attempt to ship back a spy by lying through diplomatic channels is not only a violation of our peace treaty but sets back diplomatic efforts by years. They literally just shit all over things. They have no standing.”

“John, you’re not wrong, but keeping them alive would’ve been better,” Mark said, he was upset with the outcome.

“Disagree, we got the handlers, they are the ones with all the knowledge and records.”

“Chief Wilhelm. Cadet Lief is correct,” Director LeCroix appeared onscreen, “We are informing the alliance of our extreme displeasure for their duplicitous request. We will be reducing the food-based exports to them for the next two years and increasing the prices of what we will be sending them.”

“After about five or six months of that, the Alliance will suck crow and apologize.”

“John, your excused, please finish your paperwork, it's due before you head home for the night,” Mark shook his head.

“Roger that, always a pleasure Director,” John walked out and closed the door.

He was heading back to his desk where Damian and Jess were sure to chew him out.

“I don’t like this whole situation. But I’m surprised how calm he is,” Mark leaned back in the chair, “I saw the after-action reports and video from New Orleans, he was almost out of control there.”

“Looks like he found something or someone to lean on these past few months. In any case, we did him dirty, we all know that. I don’t disagree that he could have taken them alive, but the agent he was speaking with was the dangerous one. We both saw the preliminary scans, a small bomb implanted in the body. Along with a subdermal knife,” LeCroix was defending the cadet’s action.

“It still reeks, sir,” Mark sighed and looked upset at the outcome of the operation.

“You’re not wrong. But what’s done is done. I await the final report,” LeCroix shut the connection off. Mark just stared at all the reports and shook his head.

15:20 Miami Field Office

“John, I’d kick your ass if I could. This paperwork is awful,” Jess was complaining but at least she was nearly done with the work.

“Dare I ask how you knew?” Damian inquired.

“I figured out who my birth parents were in October. They died as everyone else did on Mendes 8. The big tell though was the agent’s mind wasn’t like that of an elderly person. The agent was in his late twenties but physically made to look over a century. Turns out they reinforced part of his skeleton with carbon fiber nanotubes to strengthen the bone. Muscle mass was way wrong too.”

“What about the bomb?”

“Yeah, didn’t catch that. Not happy about missing that.”

“Hey, you gonna tell me about Ms. Robertson?” Jess slid her chair to John’s cube.

Damian stood up as well.

“What’s to tell? She was in my boot camp platoon, we clicked, now we’re together.”

“Mmmhmmm. You also saw their gargantuan estate of Thanksgiving. Her dad did some inquiries about you. We picked up some of his requests. He seems to have plans for you.”

John filed his report and swiveled his chair, “Course he does. Not that he’s going to have any pull or influence on my career. If y’all don’t put the kibosh on that Alice will. Not overly worried what he does or doesn’t know.”

Jess was looking at pictures of Alice, “Man, she is hot. You know how to pick them. I’m actually jealous.”

Damian moved next to Jess and took a look at the picture, “Yes, she is. Nice work Lief.”

Jess was pouting, “Damnit, she’s up towards the top of the class too. Sixth overall in the fall. Looks like you were at the top. No shocker about your results though.”

“Well, we did have that chat you know.”

“The one you laughed at me for?” Jess was frowning.

“Oooh, lovers quarrel. This is my cue to head home to the missus,” Damian smiled and headed toward the door.

“Yeah, good call, time for me to head back to my crappy apartment,” John locked the workstation and got up.

“So, what would Miss Girlf…”

“No. Don’t try,” John stopped Jess’ comment dead in its tracks.

“Damnit, worth a try I suppose. Well, I gotta respect that. But if she dumps you, call me,” Jess hopped out ahead of John.

She got to the elevator first. Jess mashed the close door button and spun around. She flicked John off as the doors shut on him.

“That was a bitchy thing to do.”

17:30 Base Apartment 35

John was back at his on-base apartment. He just finished eating. John couldn’t understand how the food was never good here. It was edible, but only just. It made no sense how the food here was this terrible.

The apartment he was staying in was different than the one he was assigned during the summer. This one at least had a view of the business district just beyond the base. John sat down and looked out the window and thought about the day’s events.

John had grown tired of being an agent. It was both fun and interesting, but it wasn’t what he wanted to do. Six months ago, sure he wanted to be a deep cover agent, but not anymore. His focus was the academy and eventually being in command of a ship. He pulled out his tablet and contacted Director LeCroix.

“Good evening, John. I was wondering when you’d call.”

“Appreciate you answering. Sir, with all due respect, I don’t believe I can continue as an interim intelligence agent.”

“Understood,” LeCroix knew this call was coming sometime, he just didn’t know when.

“When my request was denied that was effectively killing this career, but you and the old man sent me down a new path. I greatly appreciate the lifeline y’all gave me, but I can’t do both, it’s one or the other sir.”

“Appreciate the honesty son. We didn’t do right by you by taking advantage of your free time while you were a cadet. Consider yourself relieved of your duties.”

“Thank you, sir. I don’t doubt that intelligence will need some help down the road when an intrepid young cadet or officer gets in over his head.”

LeCroix laughed, “Knowing you John, you won’t be in the middle of just one mess. And son it’s been a pleasure working with you throughout the years.”

The communication was cut off. John pulled up his tablet and booked a redeye flight to Mobile. He packed up his stuff and left the apartment. He thought about messaging Jess, but then he figured she’d just find out on Monday. A cab was waiting for him at the base exit. He waived back at it after he dropped his bag in the trunk.

At the airport, John messaged Alice to see how she was doing. She was bummed that he wasn’t there because her family had to travel for work that morning. She was at a friend’s place that night celebrating Christmas eve. She had said it felt weird coming home to an empty house and that she was lonely.

“Looks like it’s time for Santa to deliver another present this Christmas to you Alice,” John smiled as he said this to himself as he walked through the terminal.

John’s flight was already boarding as he got to the gate. He showed the ticketing agents his ticket and sauntered down the gate. He sat down in seat 2A, first class compliments of Naval Intelligence. He’d land in Mobile around 02:30 and with any luck, he’d be to the Robertson’s estate within forty-five minutes. He was feeling free and hopeful for the future for the first time in a long time.