Sitting in the back of the sleek government sedan, Toivonen’s fingers pressed into the bridge of her nose as her hands cupped over her mouth in an attempt to physically hold back a migraine that was creeping in. The soft hum of the car's engine and the gentle sway of motion did little to ease her tension as she found herself completely overwhelmed after the past 24 hours.
Her mind raced, replaying the events that had led to this moment. Yzael's demonstration with Anduril had been impressive enough, but her subsequent showcase with Raytheon sent shockwaves through the highest echelons of power. The fusion of magic and technology opened up possibilities for an iteration of what was called the HARM missile to incorporate some new energy.
Toivonen wasn’t particularly well versed in whatever weaponry the military was in play but knew something significant when she saw it. The thing was apparently difficult to manufacture due to its exotic nature, but Toivonen wasn’t sure about the details. She had just given the report a cursory glance before returning to fussing over the new candy of her eye on the other side of the rift.
Nevertheless, since that presentation, the military and political leadership have been so obsessed with the counter-offensive they sidelined every other issue. Every meeting, briefing, and memo was focused on leveraging this new knowledge against the otherworldly threat. This, in turn, soon led to establishing a permanent position in this new world.
The fervor for an invasion had hit a fevered pitch, and it made Toivonen's stomach churn. She wasn't ready. Not by a long shot. She had only recently managed to wrangle limited control over that one Special Forces team, and she had to do it by dragging SOCOM kicking and screaming to the negotiation table. She had planned to carefully position her paramilitary officers to either replace or supplement them and build a robust intelligence network, but that was immediately shot down.
The team wasn't just surviving; they were thriving. They had embedded themselves so deeply that they were now monitoring a major logistics hub in the middle of a major population center that resented this Imperial force. When that information hit the brass, all hell broke loose, and any talks of pulling them out in place of Toivonen's people were promptly dumped into a burning dumpster.
Suddenly, everyone from four-star generals to undersecretaries was clamoring for immediate action, and the timetables Toivonen had fought tooth and nail to slow down were now being dramatically accelerated. Months of careful planning and positioning were being thrown out the window in favor of striking quickly and early. The military wanted to capitalize on this intelligence goldmine, and the politicians were all too eager to give them the green light.
Toivonen felt like she was watching a runaway train, and she was powerless to stop it. The very success she had hoped for was now threatening to upend everything. As the car sped towards the meeting that would determine the fate of their world and the other, she couldn't help but feel as if she was going to hurl.
"Greedy fucks," she muttered under her breath as she pushed her hands against the bridge of her nose even harder.
From the front seat, her driver's voice cut through her thoughts. "Ma'am? Did you say something?"
Realizing she'd spoken aloud, Toivonen let out a sigh and straightened herself up a bit. "No, nothing," she replied in a tone that said she was anything but fine. "Just thinking out loud."
The driver’s eyes flicked up at the rearview mirror and saw just how stressed out his passenger was. His initial instinct was to speak up, but he knew better than to pry into someone in the intelligence field’s business.
Especially when it came to powerful people like Toivonen.
Whatever was bothering her most likely had layers upon layers of secret classifications that would land him not in jail but probably in front of a firing squad. So, he did what he was trained to do.
To shut up and drive.
Another sigh left Toivonen’s mouth as she leaned back against the leather seat. Her eyes became unfocused as they drifted towards the window at the passing landscape. The world outside seemed oblivious to the monumental decisions being made, the forces being set in motion.
Every fiber of her being screamed that they were moving too fast, pushing forward without proper understanding or preparation. But her voice was increasingly drowned out by the chorus of eager politicians, gung-ho Generals and ambitious colleagues. Everyone seemed to salivate at the prospect of establishing a foothold in this new world and harness this new found power.
However, Toivonen found that any action she took would be completely pointless. Yzael's last presentation had been the nail in the coffin, and all of a sudden, the petrodollar was thrown out with the old, while in came the Manadollar. It seemed like she would just have to work with what she had.
"Ma'am," her driver's voice cut through her thoughts, "we're approaching the Pentagon."
Toivonen nodded as her face shifted to the stoic G-man expression she usually wore. The Pentagon was a fitting location for what would likely be the high-level meeting that would ultimately decide the fate of thousands, if not millions, of people. The last pieces of this monumental operation would fall into place in the labyrinthine corridors of the world's largest office building.
She knew even before she, or anyone else, for that matter, had set foot in the building that the decision had already been made. Gathering the highest echelons of military and intelligence leadership would just be a formality. The Joint Chiefs and the Directors of the CIA, NSA, and DIA would be there. Key members of the National Security Council would be present, and likely a handful of carefully selected congressmen from the intelligence committees.
And every one of them will decide to pull the trigger.
As the car approached the massive structure, Toivonen took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. In a matter of days, perhaps weeks at most, American forces would be crossing into another world. And she, for better or worse, would be at the epicenter of it all.
"Let’s see if we can avoid another shit show," she muttered to herself as the car pulled up to the security checkpoint. Whatever happened next, there was no turning back now. The die was cast, and all she could do was try to guide the outcome as best she could with the limited tools at her disposal.
As the car came to a stop, Toivonen's driver quickly exited and moved to open her door. However, instead of immediately stepping out, Toivonen hunched over in her seat, balling her hands together and pressing them into her face. She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to center herself.
The driver stood there in the door frame with a concerned look etched on his face. He'd driven Toivonen to countless high-stakes meetings, but he'd never seen her quite like this. "Ma'am?" he ventured hesitantly, "Are you alright? Are you feeling unwell?"
Toivonen remained in that position for several long moments, her breath coming in slow, measured inhales and exhales. The weight of what she was about to be part of pressed down on her like a physical force. This wasn't just another meeting. This was history in the making, a turning point for all of humanity.
The sheer magnitude of it all was almost incomprehensible. New resources, new technologies, new threats—everything would change, forever altering Earth's geopolitical landscape.
Finally, Toivonen took one last deep breath and looked up, meeting her driver's concerned gaze. "I'm fine," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Just... preparing myself."
As she exited the car, Toivonen straightened her suit, the Pentagon looming over her. Turning her eyes up, she looked up at those imposing pillars that simultaneously held up and protected the entrance of the most important military thought center in the world. It seemed like a fitting symbol of the immense power about to be unleashed.
Toivonen strode forward with purpose as her heels clicked against the polished floor as she entered the Pentagon. The building's usual bustling atmosphere was much heavier than normal, with an undercurrent of tension so palpable that one might have been able to cut it with a knife. Military personnel and civilian staff alike moved with increased urgency, their faces etched with barely concealed anxiety.
The Pentagon as a whole was a hive of activity. Aides rushed back and forth carrying classified folders and secure tablets. Clusters of officers were huddled in the corners, engaged in hushed conversations. The typical cacophony of ringing phones had multiplied to an extreme as the incessant ringing echoed throughout every hallway.
Everyone knew something big was coming. Toivonen didn’t even need to see inside any room or eavesdrop on any conversation to know that everyone was running around like a chicken with their heads cut off. In fact, she had already been briefed on the current happenings on Earth. Earth. From the borders of Baltic states to the South China Sea, each potential hot spot had incidents that very closely bordered acts of war.
None knew precisely when the Americans would make their move on the rift, but they all knew it was imminent. The rift alone had sparked a global firestorm of diplomatic and military posturing, but coupled with the fact that the Americans were keeping everyone else except close allies out, had put the world on a teetering edge.
Protests had erupted across the globe, ranging from allies expressing concern to outright adversaries condemning American unilateralism and lambasting them for being Neo-Colonial. The United Nations had become a battlefield of words and resolutions. Time and again, the UN tried to pass resolutions to internationalize the rift operation, but the United States wielded its veto power relentlessly.
The UN General Assembly had passed non-binding resolutions calling for international cooperation and oversight, but those had been outright ignored. Legal challenges had been mounted at the International Court of Justice and the World Trade Organization, but the Americans threatened to pull funding. Multilateral treaties had been proposed, aiming to regulate access to and exploitation of the new world's resources, but the US Ambassador simply laughed.
Some nations had even attempted to impose sanctions on the United States, but America had bared its teeth. In no uncertain terms, they had made clear that any interference would be interpreted as an act of war and readied their military as such. The message was unmistakable: the rift and the world beyond was America’s domain, and they were prepared to defend that claim with the full might of their military.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
And with the US Military industrial complex already ramping up over the past decade, no one wanted to be the first to test them.
As Toivonen passed by a room where senior military officials bickered with each other in front of a screen with the map of the Taiwan Strait, she couldn't help but feel the weight of the global tension. The rift had become a catalyst, exacerbating existing geopolitical fault lines and creating new ones.
The world was a powder keg, and America was about to light the fuse.
It wasn’t much longer until Toivonen found herself nearing her destination due to the aggressively layered security checkpoints. It seemed no expense had been saved for this meeting since the security had been unprecedented, even by the Pentagon’s standards.
Secret Service agents and military police were stationed at every bend and turn, haggling and harassing anyone who even dared to look towards the meeting hall. A multitude of metal detectors and full-body scanners greet Toivonen as she goes through the painful process of a complete security sweep. Her credentials and biometrics were checked, rechecked, and cross-referenced from multiple agents from multiple agencies against a secure database. Her phone and electronics were taken and tossed into a Faraday bag. And finally, a multitude of pat-downs by stone-face agents before she was allowed even near the meeting room.
When everything was said and done, Toivonen let out a disgruntled huff. She felt a little violated from so many hands wandering her body in search of anything that wasn’t attached to her. However, she finally entered what had to be the most secure room in the world.
Once inside, Toivonen’s eyes immediately found the President, and she snapped to attention, offering a crisp salute. "Mr. President," she said in a voice full of respect for his position.
The president gave a curt nod, which signified Toivonen's being at ease. Her arm dropped as she made her way to her seat next to the most powerful figures in American national security.
Directly to her left was the CIA Director Mich O'Reilly, her direct boss. His face was a mask of calm concentration as he gave her a respectful nod. To her right was Secretary of Defense Mark Leigh, engaged in a hushed conversation with General Kincaid, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
Further down the table, she spotted NSA Director Admiral Reynolds and watched his fingers dance over a secure tablet. The Director of the DIA was also present and found himself deep in discussion with National Security Advisor Eliza Sutton.
The atmosphere in the room was so heavy that Toivonen felt as if they were all weighing in on someone's verdict for execution.
But the more she thought about that comparison, Toivonen realized that what they were doing was a lot more extreme. They were here to decide the fate of goddamn worlds, at the very least, legions of soldiers and potentially thousands of civilians.
As the last few attendees took their seats, aides moved swiftly around the room, distributing classified folders to each person present. The soft rustle of paper and the muted clicks of secure tablets being activated filled the air.
The President leaned back in his chair, adopting a more casual posture that belied the gravity of the situation. "Okay, let's get this show on the road," he said, his voice carrying easily across the room.
He paused, his eyes sweeping across the assembled faces before continuing. "The question of pushing into alien territory is not a matter of if, but when and how." The President's gaze lingered on Toivonen and CIA Director O'Reilly. "Now, from what I understand, there are a few dissenting voices in the mix."
Toivonen felt the weight of the President's gaze, knowing that her concerns about the operation's timing and preparation had not gone unnoticed. She maintained a neutral expression, aware that every eye in the room alternated between her and O'Reilly.
Tapping rhythmically on the desk, The President’s eyes remained fixed on Toivonen and O'Reilly as he continued, his tone becoming more assertive. "You two are the only ones holding us up at this point.” He said in more of a growl than anything else. “And I need you to understand that the forces on the other side of this rift are not the only factors in play here."
He leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table. "For instance, our entire population is rabid for blood in response to an attack on Americans… on American soil.” He said slowly and deliberately while emphasizing each word. “The public doesn’t just want justice; they want revenge, and they want it now."
The President's gaze then swept across the room. "Not only that, but we've got Congress breathing down our necks, already accusing us of inaction.” He knocked on the table with his fist a few times. “Especially when the rift and our nation’s security is the only thing anyone's talking about."
"Internationally, we're walking a tightrope.” He continued with one last rap of his knuckles on the hardwood surface. “Our allies have been getting restless and are demanding more since we’ve yet to act. Our adversaries are desperate to stop us and have even considered starting a goddamn war in order to do so."
A hateful growl left the President's mouth as he stopped peering around the room and glared directly at Toivonen. "Which brings me to my question." He hissed while narrowing his eyes at her. "Why is it that the CIA, particularly you, Ms. Toivonen, is so insistent on delaying? We have a narrow window of opportunity here and every day we wait is a day every single one of our enemies can use to make things more difficult."
Toivonen shifted uncomfortably in her seat, feeling the weight of every gaze in the room. Before she could respond, CIA Director O'Reilly spoke up, "Well, Mr. President, we—"
“Mich,” The President's tone was harsh when he cut off O’Reilly with a raised hand.
Mich O’Reilly fell silent, and his mouth slowly closed as he gave his subordinate a sympathetic look. It seemed she was on her own for this one.
The President's eyes bored into Toivonen. "I'd rather hear it from the horse's mouth," he said in a low and intense voice. "I’m getting excuse after excuse, so I’m curious as to what really is going on here. What. Is. The. Delay, Ms. Toivonen?"
In this very moment, the accumulation of long hours, stress, lack of sleep, and sheer exhaustion seemed to catch up with Toivonen all at once. The overwhelming pressure from not just the President's gaze, but every important figure in the room, bore into her as if they were interrogating her very soul. They all seemed to view her as the problem, not someone trying to address one.
Every nervous tick Toivonen had ever suppressed began to surface. Her right leg started to bounce involuntarily under the table. Her fingers twitched, yearning to drum against the polished wood. She even started to bite at the skin of her inner cheek. Somehow, through sheer force of will, she managed to maintain her poker face as she held eye contact with the most powerful man on Earth.
Despite the internal turmoil, Toivonen recognized this as her chance to really make her case. She took a deep breath, trying to stead the hands that were shaking like a leaf in her lap, and steeled herself.
"Mr. President," she began in a tone steadier than she felt, "the delay isn't about reluctance or fear. It's about ensuring we don't repeat our past mistakes."
She paused, carefully choosing her next words. "We've made incredible progress in establishing a foothold beyond the rift. We have assets in place that are gathering critical intelligence, but our network is still fragile, and our understanding is far from complete."
Toivonen leaned forward slightly, her eyes locked with the President's. "We're dealing with a world that operates on fundamentally different principles than our own.” She continued as she did her best to control her nerves. “Monsters straight out of some fantasy novel have become real, tangible threats and… potential assets."
Knowing her insistence on patience would likely confront her, Toivonen opted to come prepared as she gestured her hand towards the document in front of all of the attendees. "Sir, I believe you and the members of this meeting have all heard about that Special Forces team embedded in a major civilian population center near a crucial enemy logistics hub."
A moment of silence passed as Toivonen looked around the table to ensure everyone was on the same page. "What you may not know is the extent of their infiltration, " she continued after everyone grabbed their folders and opened them while nodding in recognition. This team hasn't just established a presence; they've compromised the entire town."
Murmurs of interest spread throughout a few of the meeting's members, but most kept their gaze locked on the intelligence report. "Due to their efforts, we now have a high-ranking town guard on our payroll,” Toivonen's voice grew more confident as she spoke. This asset will allow us to smuggle people and equipment through what should be a secure checkpoint. But that's not all."
She leaned forward slightly as her tone grew a little more excited at the growing interest of the attendees. "The operatives in play have also made significant inroads with the criminal underground. These aren't just petty thieves; we're talking about large organizations with their fingers in every pie throughout the region."
Toivonen could see she had their full attention now. Even the President's stern expression had softened slightly to one of intrigue.
"If we can worm our way deeper into the underground and co-opt this syndicate or cartel in its entirety, it would become invaluable in maintaining order."
She paused, letting the implications sink in. "This could be the key to avoiding another situation like what happened in the Middle East between 2003 and 2020." Toivonen's eyes swept across the room, gauging reactions. "We could potentially control the entire region's black market with more time. That level of influence would be priceless in stabilizing the area post-invasion and managing potential insurgencies."
The room fell silent as Toivonen finished speaking. Everyone looked at each other, knowing that Toivonen’s reasoning was rock solid, and they couldn’t precisely refute her. Even the President remained quiet as he sat there with an unreadable expression. The only sounds were the murmurs of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Secretary of Defense, who leaned in to whisper a few words to the President.
Toivonen held her breath, watching the silent exchange as hope fluttered in her chest as she saw the three men nod and continue speaking amongst each other.
But when the President turned back to her, his expression was resolute. "Ms. Toivonen, while your work is commendable, we simply can't afford any more delays.” Said definitively as he leaned back in his chair. “The operation proceeds as scheduled."
The words hit Toivonen like a physical blow. Her carefully maintained stoic facade crumbled instantly as her once confident look deflated into one of defeat. All the tension, all the hope, all the carefully constructed arguments seemed to evaporate in an instant.
Her shoulders slumped, and for a moment, she looked utterly lost. The weight of the decision, the potential consequences, and the feeling of helplessness crashed over her like a tidal wave. At that moment, Toivonen wasn't the self-assured and assertive intelligence officer who had walked into the room. Instead, after months of careful work and planning had been brushed aside, she became the insecure and uncertain intelligence officer when she first joined the agency.
Toivonen’s head snapped around the room, her eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. She tried to respond and refute the decision in any capacity but was reduced to a stuttering mess. The poor woman couldn’t help but think that if they went in without setting the groundwork as they did in Iraq, then they would all be doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past.
It was as if a train was running at full speed off a bridge, and she was in the front car, powerless to stop it.
But the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence and her spiraling thoughts. "However, we do see the value in what you’re doing," he began in a measured voice. On the other side, we’ll be forming a beachhead for command, control, and logistics before we run straight into a major offensive."
"We'll allocate whatever resources you need to continue whatever project you’re working," The President added, slightly softening his tone. "Send Mich a list of whatever it is you want, and I’ll make sure it gets to you."
Caught off guard by this sudden shift, Toivonen found herself at a loss for words. Her usual poker face was gone, and in its stead, she was expressing herself rapidly while processing this new information. "Um... uh... well..."
The attendees waited patiently until the intelligence officer collected her thoughts. After a few deep breaths, Toivonen finally steadied herself as she looked between her boss, the CIA Director, and the President. "Well… um… The key to this are those operators I’ve been talking about. Specifically one or two of them.” She said hesitantly. “I need to interface with them directly so they're under my directives."
The President looked to General Kincaid with a firm look. "Give her whatever she needs.” He said firmly. “If you have to discharge someone to bring them into her fold, then do it. I don’t care how."