The next day, I was shocked to see Vivian actually being useful. She led the lesson in the Sphere, where we talked about more advanced functions of RalKed, while the rest of us stayed in the back, watching the lesson partially while looking through more of the documents. We’d managed to narrow it down to more malicious interactions.

After the lesson, we saw her patience end.

“I’ll teach a shitty lesson, but I won’t read a bunch of shitty notes to find something only of slight significance.” She had said, before promptly walking out of the room.

Les sighed. “She’ll come around eventually.”

But she didn’t. Over the next few days, that single lesson was all we got out of Vivian. She was always off, doing something that apparently was “none of our concern,” as she put it.

Thankfully, the cadets were making incredible progress. They had begun to master the use of RalKed. They could successfully take control and manipulate high-security computers. But, no matter how high-security the systems were, they were nothing compared to what the cadets would have to face in real life.

But, as the CIA assured them, time was theirs. Nothing yet had come of the supposed ‘strategy meeting’ for five days.

On the fifth day, we were teaching a lesson on finishing up RalKed, by making sure that the students were absolutely ready to move forward.

“…And can someone tell me their favorite method of data retrieval?” Seph asked.

About five hands shot up instantly. Seph raised his hand to call on one, but was interrupted when the door to the Sphere opened loudly and abruptly. All seemed to become silent. Heads whirled.

Officer Sanchez stood at the doorway. “Cadets, class dismissed.” He said gruffly, before locking eyes with us. “You all, strategy meeting. Now.”

My eyes narrowed with suspicion. Why hadn’t we been alerted previously? And why was this so dire as to interrupt our lesson? But the look on Sanchez’s face was unmistakable: this was urgent business, and lateness would not be tolerated.

We followed him without question, where he led us quickly across the gravel paths past the building we had been called to for information gathering to a plain-looking rectangular structure. It had two pairs of double doors, the first of which we approached.

We entered the building. The inside looked very similar to all of the other ones we had seen; marble floors and sleek black walls. Sanchez led us around a few corners, before coming to a door labeled ‘24 - Group Meeting.’ He opened the door, leading us into a large, circular, carpeted room.

A round, wooden table took up the majority of the space. Simple black chairs were positioned all around. Whiteford took up the head of the table, with a seat for Sanchez and another for Torres on her left and right respectively. Jane and Janet occupied the space next to Sanchez’s chair, and five officers that I didn’t know by name were next to Torres’ empty seat.

Lastly, six empty chairs sat - the closest to the door. We filled them in as Sanchez sat in his chair. The only noticeably empty chair was Torres’. Strange, I thought. Why would they keep his chair if he was absent? They could noticeably be moved - which was reflected in the stacks of extras along the wall.

“I must start this meeting by stating that the president did not attend, as he is working on formal matters that are none of anyone here’s concern.” Whiteford proclaimed.

I wished I could say I had gotten used to being in the dark - between Vivian withholding pretty much everything she did, and Whiteford never telling anyone anything until the last moment - but I still puzzled at why anyone needed that level of secrecy. Whiteford continued, interrupting my thoughts. “The next, possibly concerning announcement, is our lack of troops.”

This settled in. How could we fight if we are lacking in so many departments?

“To counter that, many officers will have to take up the fight - including everyone in this room.” I waited for her to say ‘except the Xarnon agents, of course.’ But she never did. I glanced to my right, at Mel. They had their brows scrunched up in concern. I couldn’t seem to picture myself out on the field of battle, with a gun, shooting down enemies.

Hell, I couldn’t picture myself anywhere but here, or armed with anything more than a small pistol.

Whiteford stood, and pressed a button below her. A holographic map appeared, showing the entirety of Russia with a few red pins in it. “We believe that striking down Valamir is of utmost importance, and is the best way to dispel the remaining forces. Each of these pins-” she motioned to about of the dozens of markers on the map. “-Is one possible place he could be residing.”

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“So, we are going to have to carefully raid every single one of these?” One of the officers that I don’t know asked - the second one closest to me.

“Not if we have anything to do with it.” Seph states. “Give us a few weeks and we can dredge up enough information to know Valamir’s exact location.”

Whiteford gave him an unreadable glance. “You overestimate yourself, agent. We are talking about Russia, not some corporate bullshit.”

Seph rolled his eyes, but even I had my doubts. I wasn’t sure any of us stood a chance against foreign operations either. Even if we did, a few weeks wasn’t that much time. Glancing at Seph, I could see the doubt in his face. He didn’t totally believe what he was saying either.

“Despite whether that is true or not, we will need to figure out where to position our troops.” Whiteford said. “We can’t do anything without a base of operations.”

The map zoomed in at another button press, showing blue marks now, instead of red. They were positioned by the Russian border. Some were dim, including all of them near Ukraine. “Here are all of the possible buildings we can seize and operate out of.”

There were about fifteen marks overall, not including the six dimmed ones. They were in many different countries, from Kazakhstan and China to Finland and Belarus. “The darkened points are either impossible to get to, or denied access to us by the countries’ government.” Whiteford said.

I pointed to a location in Finland. “That should be easy to get to.”

Seph looked at Kazakhstan. “Look how many red marks are close to that one.”

Whiteford shrugged, and the blue marks disappeared. “But that is beside the most important thing to discuss.” At another press of a button, thousands of little egg-shaped marks appeared, some red and others blue. She motioned to the red ones, positioned everywhere around Russia. “Here are the known locations of Valamir’s military.” She then motioned to the blue ones, scattered both in the U.S. and around the globe. “These are our troops.”

Compared to the countless red markers, our futile blue markers were nothing. “Holy hell,” Seph whispered. “You weren’t lying about being outnumbered.”

Whiteford raised her finger along the map, creating a blue arrow that stretched from a spot on the map that must’ve been Xarnon to Finland and Kazakhstan, at the two bases Seph and I had pointed to earlier. “This is what we are planning on doing,” She said. “The question is where we will go afterwards.”

She drew a few semi-transparent arrows, each leading inward to Russia from the military bases. Some stopped at towns, others at red markers. “Here are some advancements we could make.”

I studied them. She had drawn ten possibilities: half ending at towns and half ending at potential Valamir locations. All of them had troops stationed there. Naomi instantly pointed at one with the fewest markers. “How about that one?”

Whiteford nodded. “That is the most logical first move.” She eliminated a few other arrows. “And these are the most illogical.”

“So, they’re expecting us to go here,” Seph motioned to the one with the least amount of soldiers. “And we’re fucked if we go here,” he motioned to those that Whiteford had eliminated. “So we go to one of these,” he motioned lastly to a cluster of three with not too many troops and not too little.

Janet spoke up. “That town,” she pointed to the second one Seph had guestured too. “That town gives us easy access to any of these possible Valamir locations.”

Whiteford rolled her eyes, but even she had to admit that Janet was right. Following that train of thought, Officer #1 on my right spoke: “So we can go there!” He pointed excitedly to a base of operations on the border near all of the current targets of interest.

Whiteford nodded contemplatively. “That would work as a first move - applying pressure. Anyone else have anything to add?” Nobody spoke up.

After a few seconds of silence, she shrugged. “Then this strategy meeting can come to a close. You may all return to your quarters.”

We stood first, and exited the room. For a moment, we let everyone pass, then followed them. We were led to the door, out onto the chilly grounds. The officers departed to go to the southern dormitory, while we trudged back to ours.

Upon our arrival, someone finally spoke. “Well, that was a complete flop and a waste of time.” Les said.

“Hm?” I asked.

“All we did was make some simple decisions that anyone with half a brain could deduce!” Les continued. “It’s like they wanted to pull us for a useless meeting.”

Seph narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think Whiteford would do anything without due cause. There must’ve been a reason.”

Naomi sighed. “I would bet they called us just to inform all of the officers that - whether we like it or not - we will be going to war.”

“You would’ve thought that no one would send their best hackers into the middle of what would be a death sentence.” I grumbled.

“By then we’ll have trained the cadets and been rendered useless.” Les sighed. The thought struck me like a blow to the head. Would they really keep us just to train some cadets then kill us off?

I wouldn’t put it past Whiteford.

I wouldn’t put it past anyone here, truthfully.

My little fantasy of a happy life, a life with love and purpose shattered. No, I reassured myself. That can’t be. They wouldn’t do that - never.

But no mental reassurance could pick up the pieces, could undo that punch to the face. The thought was permanently burned in the back of my skull - an itch that couldn’t be ignored.

You’re being used.

You’re being used.

You’re being used.

I swallowed and spoke. “No. I don’t think they would do that.”

Without any further elaboration, I stalked off into my room. I reached into my duffle bag, and pulled out a smartphone. Not bothering to take off my clothes, I collapsed into the soft mattress. I didn’t want to move or do anything else again. An ache was in my heart, a burning in my bones, a pounding in my brain.

I pressed on the nearest social media app and scrolled. There were bright colors and happy people.

Happy people.

Why the fuck can’t I just be happy?

The war was nothing to them. It was distant and they were, probably, misinformed. Their blissful ignorance soaked into my retinas. Tears began to run down my cheeks, salty and wet. I didn’t stop them. I didn’t care.

No one knocked on the door.

The hours went by.

Time became meaningless.

And I fell into the darkness of sleep.