I found myself holed up in a drone factory turned safehouse, hiding from the fallout of my latest escapade, I couldn't help but wonder how I ended up in such a predicament.

The safehouse, a dingy corner of the abandoned factory, was hardly what I'd call cozy. But when your mentor, Captain Miller, orders you to lay low, you make do with what you've got. Off in the distance a cloud of yellow smoke let me know Tank was still around. The gas was so thick i could not see it I was just lucky it was dense and had not come up the stairs yet.

As I sat on a makeshift chair, trying to ignore the faint smell of oil and machinery that permeated the air, my phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts. It was Captain Miller, his voice calm and collected as always.

"Hello, Captain," I greeted him, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice.

"Brightspark, I've got some news for you," Captain Miller said, his moustache twitching with authority. "There was some trouble, Rita, has been moved to a secure location. She'll be safe there until the heat dies down."

Relief flooded through me at the news, grateful that Captain Miller had taken care of my mom. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate it more than you know."

But before I could dwell on the matter any longer, Captain Miller dropped another bombshell.

"Oh, and one more thing, Brightspark," he added casually. "The Chief of Police, James Gregory, is on his way to speak with you. He wants to discuss your... creative approach to law enforcement."

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of Chief Gregory. I had a feeling this conversation wouldn't be a pleasant one, especially considering the mess I'd gotten myself into with my little fib about planning to invade Cuba.

I nodded grimly, steeling myself for the inevitable confrontation. "Understood, Captain. I'll be ready."

With that, Captain Miller hung up, leaving me to contemplate the impending visit from Chief Gregory.

I turned to Tank or where I thought Tank was, and yelled into the cloud. "Well, Tank, looks like we've got company Chief Gregory is on his way."

Tank yelled out. "The Chief of Police? What does he want with us?"

I shrugged, feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. "I guess we're about to find out."

But as we waited for Chief Gregory's arrival, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled over me like a dark cloud. Whatever the Chief had to say, I had a feeling it wasn't going to be good. And as I braced myself for the confrontation, I couldn't help but wonder how I'd managed to get myself into yet another fine mess. Still I was not one of those unfortunate famine victims from Texas or California.

Tank warned me before James to the warehouse. I heard the door of the warehouse open briefly and then the sound of James walking up the metal James walked out of the cloud of yellow smoke and I flinched at the pure evil that seemed to pour out of him.

Great job Brightspark. We stand at a pivotal moment in our great nations's history, one that requires a level of discretion and tact far beyond our usual antics.

As you are undoubtedly aware, the rumours of an impending invasion of Cuba have spread like wildfire throughout our community. While the public may view this as nothing more than a laughable farce, I assure you, the reality of the situation is anything but amusing.

Brightspark, you have been selected for a crucial role in this operation. You and your family will be deemed patriots, heralded as heroes, tasked with perpetuating a facade that will undoubtedly raise eyebrows and elicit laughter from those who are unaware of the true gravity of the situation.

However, let us not underestimate the severity of our actions. The real invasion is scheduled for three days' time, on a Sunday—a calculated decision made to capitalize on the distraction of mass gatherings and minimize potential resistance. Not that their will be much the storms and rising temperatures have already seen to that.

I must impress upon you the importance of maintaining the utmost discretion in your dealings with the press. Your ability to spin tales and fabricate narratives may serve as a source of amusement to some, but it is imperative that you understand the weight of your words and the consequences they may carry.

Furthermore, I must caution you against underestimating the threat posed by Kelly, the detective from Internal Affairs. Her presence signifies a level of scrutiny and suspicion that cannot be ignored. You must proceed with caution and ensure that your interactions with Captain Miller are conducted with the utmost care and foresight.

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Should our efforts succeed, Brightspark, you will be rewarded handsomely for your service to our great country. We will do what Trump failed to do set this country on the straight and narrow with violence and death. We kill everyone who gets in our way man woman or child. Our rewards for doing this will be plentiful I myself have a mansion with two twenty-year-old hookers who feed me grapes on request. They are lesbians or were before the famine now both are pregnant with my new children. Its a new dawn seize the power and live like a King or live like my maids on your knees. Now are you in or out.

I looked at James and knew if I said out I was a dead man so I nodded “I am in all the way” I decided it was time to talk to Miller and find out exactly I was in for. James grinned “Your a good man we need to do this before the rot gets deeper. Now listen up we will need you on this evening 9 o Clock news. Remember stay focused and do as your told. Your mother will be receiving the first youth treatments in a hour. By next month she will look 25. The bones take longer and it will be around six months until she is physically 25 again”

As I mulled over Chief James's cryptic words, "It's a new dawn, seize the power and live like a King or live like my maids on your knees," a sense of apprehension gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. The implications were clear, do what your told or I am going to make you my maid. I sat for hours thinking about things their had to be a way out of this situation. I switched on my phone and the news came in Famines in China and canibal cults in India. South America was mostly a mess with a couple of counteries staying afloat. But you needed skills or actual super powers that did something other than help you fly to get in any one of them.

Hours later I finally got a call from Captain Miller to go to press briefing. He wanted me down there early so I could go over what I was to say with a old speech programme. I set out in a cab with Tank following in his car behind me. I was still trying to work a way out when lost in my thoughts, I nearly collided with Kelly, the young detective from Internal Affairs. With her fiery red hair and piercing green eyes, she was a vision to behold, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of attraction. But I quickly pushed the thought aside, reminding myself of the gravity of the situation at hand.

"Brightspark," she said, her voice cutting through the haze of my thoughts, "I need to speak with you about the invasion of Cuba. I believe you may have information that could assist in my investigation."

I hesitated for a moment, torn between the desire to flirt with Kelly and the need to maintain my composure. Ultimately, I chose the latter, knowing that any slip-up could have dire consequences.

"You're wasting your time, Kelly," I replied, my tone firm but polite. "If you have questions, talk to Captain Miller. He's the one in charge here, not me. Besides if I tell you how I am going to invade Cuba you might warn them"

Kelly's expression hardened, but I could see a hint of frustration flicker in her eyes. She knew I was helping Miller do something. She just had no idea what it was. She was determined, I'd give her that, but I knew she was fighting a losing battle.

As I watched Kelly walk away, a brief sick fantasy flickered through my mind—a fantasy of her serving as my maid in the mansion I was promised if things went well. But I quickly shook my head, banishing the thought as quickly as it had come. Now was not the time for distractions.

I had a job to do, and until the invasion of Cuba was complete, I couldn't afford to let anything—or anyone—distract me from the task at hand. But once the dust had settled, well, who knows what the future might hold? Perhaps then, I could indulge in a little flirtation with the lovely Kelly. Until then, however, I would keep my focus firmly on the mission ahead. Or in thoery I should have. In all honestly all I had to do is sit there and look good. I was the distraction and I was hopefully getting paid enough so I never had to work again.

I had to stand before the press and deliver yet another fabricated tale of impending invasion, all at the behest of Captain Miller. The words had left a bitter taste in my mouth. I was making a fool of myself. I calmed down thinking of my mother and Tank's farts. I wanted my mother to live a decent life and not have to be altered to drink waste vegetable oil and fart toxic clouds like Tank. I gave the public a massive show and then took off into the air so they could see me fly away.

Descending from the heavens, I landed softly on the rooftop of thepolice station where Captain Miller awaited my return. As I approached him, I could see the familiar furrow in his brow, the telltale sign of a man burdened by his own secrets.

"Brightspark," he greeted me, his voice grave and serious. "I your speech went off without a hitch congradulations."

I nodded, though the guilt gnawed at me like a persistent itch. "As ordered, Captain. The press bought it hook, line, and sinker."

Captain Miller's expression remained unreadable, but I could sense the weight of his gaze as he studied me intently. "Good. That's what I like to hear."

But before I could dwell on the implications of my latest deception, Captain Miller dropped a bombshell that left me reeling.

"Kelly has been given information about several drug representatives and their wrongdoing," he informed me, his voice low and hushed. "I've made sure she's got everything she needs to take them down."

I blinked in surprise, my mind struggling to process the revelation. Kelly, the tenacious detective from Internal Affairs, was on the case—a fact that filled me with a strange mix of dread and curiosity.

"Why would you do that?" I asked, unable to keep the note of concern from creeping into my voice. "Isn't that... risky?"

Captain Miller offered me a wry smile, though there was little humor in it. "Kelly is a good officer, Brightspark. If she's as smart as I think she is, she'll follow the trail straight to the heart of the operation. If she is a decent and honourable cop let the drug companies burry her. And if she's dirty, well, I'll buy her off. Either way, you've got nothing to worry about."

I nodded, though the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach refused to dissipate. It was a dangerous game we were playing, one with stakes far higher than I had ever imagined. But as Captain Miller had so often reminded me, in our line of work, there were no easy answers, only difficult choices and the consequences that followed.

As I prepared to embark on yet another mission of deception and intrigue, I couldn't help but wonder what fate had in store for Kelly—and for me. But one thing was certain: in the shadowy world of crime and corruption, nothing was ever as it seemed. And as long as Captain Miller paid me I was his man.