The more emotional weakness, the greater the danger. Know the limits and never get carried away with the sway you have over your victim. Power for powers sake is one thing, and never for the thrill of control - Art of Interrogation

Operation Menu: Phase Dinner (D-97 hours)

FRAGO: Operation: Marianne's Vigil (D+41 hours)

Chained to the table in a dimly lit room, the young boy sat with a blank expression on his face. A lone fly entered the room when he was first brought in and buzzed around. It landed on his face a few times, but he refused to brush it away.

Jones, Webb, Sidedragon, Indigo, Tauru, and Montaigne watched him from behind a two-way mirror.

“Has he been like that the entire time?” asked Jones.

“Pretty much,” Montaigne replied. “Even after using enhanced interrogation methods like sleep deprivation and waterboarding. The only thing we got from him was his name.”

“That, and he kept repeating the phrase ‘am I in trouble’ whenever anyone enters the room,” added Indigo.

“Did you try electroshock?” asked Webb.

“Didn’t want to run the risk of a full or partial memory wipe,” Indigo said.

“I got this,” Jones said as she crossed her arms. “Webb, prep the White Room. Sidedragon, come in at four minutes and bag’em.”

Indigo asked, “White Room? Why haven’t I heard about this place?”

Webb gulped and hesitantly nodded. Jones checked her watch and set the timer. She strolled into the room. Gilbert looked up at her and smiled.

“Am I in trouble?” asked Gilbert.

Jones dragged a chair noisily across the floor and positioned herself across from him. Her watch continued to count down. At precisely four minutes, Sidedragon walked in and stood behind Gilbert.

Before he could ask his question, Sidedragon placed a black sackcloth over the boy’s head and pulled the drawstrings tight. Gilbert struggled, but the handcuffs prevented him from taking any action.

Webb entered the room with a white straight jacket. With assistance from Jones, they slipped the jacket on, tightened the straps, and then brought him out of the room.

Webb hoisted the boy over his shoulders and headed towards the elevator.

Tauru and the others followed behind. Indigo started to say something, but Jones placed her finger to her lips and shook her head.

Once inside, Jones used her keycard to open a secondary panel near the floor buttons. She pressed the button labeled ‘subbasement’ and keyed in ‘13’ on the number pad.

Upon reaching the floor, Webb led them down a narrow hallway. At the end was a single door labeled ‘WHITE ROOM’ and a display panel over the doorway. After Jones unlocked the door, Sidedragon removed the black bag from the boy's head, and Webb tossed him inside.

The door slammed behind Gilbert.

“So, what’s all this White Room hype all about?” Tauru asked.

D.T. Jones cracked a smile and walked over to the wall behind Tauru and swiped her card in the air. A door appeared behind him. She swiped it in the air again, the door clicked, and opened on its own.

“One can’t really understand the White Room unless you see it firsthand, big guy,” Webb replied.

The inside was spacious enough to accommodate ten chairs, arranged in a 5 by 5 configuration at the center of the room. On a small table at the far end was a handheld tablet computer. Jones picked it up and began pressing the buttons once it booted up. She entered a password and pressed another button. A screen rolled down from the ceiling, revealing Gilbert in a white-padded room, including the floors and ceiling. Even the light source was painted white.

“Under all the padding, the room is layered with sound absorbing baffle foam,” Jones said as she activated another application on the tablet. “Even if you want to scream, you couldn’t hear it.”

Green letters appeared on the screen that read ‘Time Ratio – Real World 1: White Room 1’. Jones adjusted the settings till it read: Time Ratio – Real World 1: White Room 1440.

“So, if I understand this correctly, one minute here equates to 1 day in the White Room?” Montaigne asked.

Gilbert rolled around on the floor at high speed.

Webb grinned, “You bet, it even works on NPCs.”

“NPCs take a bit longer to crack, but we can adjust for that,” Jones replied, increasing the ratio.

Jones adjusted the time till it read: Real World 1: White Room 1 week. Then she set the timer to five minutes.

When the clock went down, Jones went back to the White Room.

“This is significantly easier since we don’t need to feed the NPCs nor do they need to have bathroom breaks,” she said opening the door.

Gilbert’s eyes were glazed over, and saliva ran down the side of his face. When he saw Jones’s face, he blinked a few times and smiled at her.

“Am I in trouble?” Gilbert asked.

D.T. Jones pushed him back into the room with her boot. She started the machine back up and altered the settings. Every time Jones opened the door, Gilbert responded the same way, “Am I in trouble.”

After the eighth attempt, Montaigne said, "We harbor a suspicion that the aforementioned phrase operates as a cryptic challenge and password configuration, yet regrettably, our attempts to discover the key or discover any contextual cues have failed."

“We tried telling him yes he’s in trouble, no he isn’t and every combination we could think of,” Indigo added. “It’s a specific phrase he wants to hear, that could take years to crack.”

“Did you find any clues at the house?” asked Jones.

Indigo forwarded the pictures and video of the house to Webb, Jones and Sidedragon.

“If you want a live view, we have Whisper and Triumph there now,” Indigo said.

“Patch me through,” Jones said taking a step back.

She organized her windows, as Webb and Sidedragon did the same.

“To you want the dog or Whisper,” Indigo asked.

Jones, Webb and Sidedragon all nodded with each other and replied with, “The dog.”

“Everybody trusts the dog,” Indigo muttered, and he pressed a few buttons.

After changing a few of the security protocols he pointed towards Jones and nodded. A black and white image appeared on a screen, with various shades of blue and yellow appearing.

Triumph was wandering the room, sniffing the couch. Whisper was in the process of removing the covers to the electric sockets and pulling out the wiring to the house. She stopped occasionally to test the wires with a multi meter.

“What’s up with her?” asked Webb.

Text appeared at the bottom of Triumph’s vision.

> Whisper:> I’m checking to see if power diverted to secret rooms or to hidden cameras/listening devices.

“Good work, carry on then,” Webb replied. “She can hear us?”

Indigo said, “Yes, there’s a speaker and microphone on Triumph’s collar.”

“I need to get a mage-bred dog,” Webb said to his colleagues. “Maybe a Doberman or Husky.”

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“Huskey’s talk too much,” replied Indigo. “Would you mind giving the guests the nickel and dime tour? Let's start with the living room.”

Triumph navigated the room, his inquisitive eyes poking at every nook.

“I need a glimpse of their daily life, like photos, collection of travel magnets, or homemade-looking arts and crafts,” Jones said.

The dog moved to the fireplace, where above the mantle, a collection of empty cups and delicate glass hummingbirds mingled with family photos and intricate bee decorations on the picture frames.

Jones watched as Triumph stared around the room, then she requested a closer examination of the family photographs.

Whisper promptly testing the cables, stood up from her spot and retrieved the pictures from the mantle. Then she arranged them on the floor. She positioned six photos, then continued to rip out more of the wiring.

Jones asked Triumph to rearrange the photos. One picture depicted a young boy radiating joy in front of a school, his wide eyes and pudgy smile capturing his innocence. Accompanying him was a woman with with long, tangled blond hair, her eyes tired and empty as she stared at the camera for the photograph.

In the next picture the same woman was standing with Gilbert, but this the expression on his face had soured a bit. In the subsequent photos, the woman remained by Gilbert's side, yet a discernible shift in his features became increasingly apparent. In the series of photos, the initial cheerfulness on the boy's face gradually gave way to a palpable sadness.

The progression of the six images captured the subtle nuances of his emotional descent, with each frame painting a poignant narrative. By the final photograph, Gilbert's once-vibrant expression had faded entirely, mirroring the vacant and emotionless face of the blonde companion standing beside him. The conclusion of these images portrayed the final transformation, as the initial joy morphed into a shared emptiness between the two figures.

Jones stared at the pictures in silence. Her hand covered her face as her eyes swelled up. Webb rubbed her back. Once D.T. Jones regained her composure, she narrowed her eyebrows and sneered.

“Got’cha now,” Jones said as she pounded her hand into her fist.

“Wow, that’s the same exact look Boss Kitty gets when she has a plan,” Indigo whispered.

“Separated at birth,” Tauru said.

Jones deactivated the White Room and threw open the door. A wide-eyed Gilbert rolled out and onto the floor.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked.

Jones fell to her knees and cradled his head. She began to gently stroke his hair.

“Shh, don’t say a word,” Jones whispered and place her hand over his lips.

Tears began streaming down his eyes as he began to shake.

“I’m scared mama,” he whispered. “I miss my connection to ADA, and I’m not sure how long I can hold out.”

Tauru, Indigo, Webb, Montaigne, and Sidedragon watched silently. The rest of the team paused their work to watch through the feed.

“I know,” Jones said to him. “Do you remember out backup plan?”

“Yes mama, I memorized it just like you taught me…Hops stone goes round and round, use the keyhole and I’ll be found,” he said.

“Good, now go to sleep like a good boy,” Jones said, and placed her fingers over his eyes. “Webb, lock the boy up in the White Room, we may need him again.”

“No problem captain,” he said and dragged him inside.

> TC:> OMW to you Whisper

>

> Heather:> Once King Rat comes back home, I’ll be on my way to the Kopf house.

Indigo stroked his beard and inquired, "How did you know what to say?"

"Every boy cherishes his mother; there are few if any exceptions," Jones said, hastening toward the elevator. "By observing the sequence of the pictures, I surmised that Ms. Kopf withheld love and used it as a reward."

"Cold blooded," Tauru commented.

> Whisper:> I’ve seen a zen rock garden in the boy’s bedroom.

Triumph ascended the stairs and headed directly to Gilbert's bedroom. The walls were decorated with posters featuring renowned combatants, while grey pennants hung proudly over the doors. In Triumph's canine perspective it was clarified that under the pennants, with added white labels, the pennants belonged to either red, blue, or the gold teams.

The dog leaped onto the chair and nuzzled a dinner-sized plate covered with rocks and sand.

"Don't touch anything until we arrive," Jones cautioned as she used her key to operate the elevator.

Once the doors opened, they stepped inside.

***

After taking the train they arrived at the Kopf house. T.C. and Heather were waiting outside and accompanied by a few of the Wheels. Montaigne gave them a salute and walked in.

The inside of the room was painted a vibrant emerald green, and starch white trim around the door.

“How does the hell does this thing work?” asked Indigo. “Boss Kitty is the item’s expert.”

“I know a few things too,” complained T.C.

Montaigne, Indigo, T.C., and Webb’s eyes began to glow as they activated their Witch Sight.

“I don’t see any latent or potential energy stores,” Montaigne said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of tweezers.

Sidedragon stepped back and leaned against the door frame to brace himself. His head was dizzy, and the color drained from his cheeks. The others were busy studying the rocks. He dragged himself out of the room.

Immediately after stepping outside, he started to feel better, but still lightheaded. Decided that he needed some water he went downstairs and into the kitchen. Sidedragon wandered down and into the kitchen where he found Whisper leaning over the kitchen table examining a series of photos.

“Lookin’ a little pale, you okay?” Whisper asked without looking up.

Sidedragon turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face. Whisper reached into her jacket and handed him a silver flask.

He pushed it away and said, “Sorry I don’t drink while on duty.”

Whisper shrugged and took a swig.

“It will take the edge off from that Faraday Cage upstairs,” she said taking another sip.

“I didn’t detect Faraday Cage upstairs, what are you talking about?” he asked.

“All that green paint, it has a copper base. That’s what gives it that vibrant emerald, green look. It’s a passive counter measure to prevent Remote Viewing, Scrying, or standard audio surveillance,” she said.

Sidedragon nodded in acknowledgment, his hand snatched up the offered flask. The cool metal felt solid against his palm as he brought it to his lips. He took a measured sip, feeling the warmth of the liquid course through him, a controlled burn that chased away the drain he felt earlier. A subtle smile crept onto his face as he savored the sensation.

He broke the silence, he asked, "Which unit were you with?"

Whisper, her gaze lifting from the worn table, raised an eyebrow with curiosity etched in her expression. She studied Sidedragon, and a smile played on her black painted lips.

“I was with the 509th Dropbears,” she replied with a mischievous grin.

“Fuck you,” Sidedragon said with an edge of seriousness, then broke out with laughter. “No offence, you guys always gave us hell during our training rotations on Eugenie-64.”

“None taken. If anyone came out of Eugenie liking us, that meant we did something wrong,” Whisper said. “Good times.”

Whisper turned away from the conversation, her gaze fixed on the blank expanse of the wall and the refrigerator standing alone across the room. Memories began to take over her mind, but as the sensation started to overwhelm her presence of mind she jumped up from her chair.

The creaking protest of its legs accompanied her movements. She approached the refrigerator and swung the door open. The cold spilled out, revealing emptiness. Unfazed, she pivoted to the pantry, her anticipation diminishing with each vacant shelf.

The revelation of barren shelves brought forth a surge of frustration, ended with the slam of the pantry door against its frame. Quickly followed up with a kick from her boot.

“Anything good?” Sidedragon asked, his curiosity tinged with a note of amusement.

Whisper turned to face him, her expression a mix of resignation and wry humor.

“Boxes of generic cooking supplies,” she sighed, reopening the refrigerator. “There’s that baguette again. So Sidedragon, who were you with?”

Sidedragon watched her aura change and with a bemused glint in his eyes he said, “The Fightin’ 88th Infantry.”

Undeterred by the lack of culinary options, Whisper checked the freezer with a swift motion, sealing its fate with another slam. The withered plant and bottled contents rattled, but a solitary beer mug stood undisturbed, it stubbornly refused to budge in her presence.

“What the…” Whisper said and yanked open the freezer door only to slam it shut even harder.

As the door rebounded from the force, one of the bottles teetered on the edge of the freezer shelf, and the nearby plant shivered in response. However, the steadfast beer mug remained resolute, defying her to the point she felt like the mug was taunting her.

Whisper reached for a dagger at her side. She pulled it out and tapped the tip against the decorated surface of the beer mug. To her surprise, it didn't budge.

“Hey guys,” Sidedragon yelled. “You might want to stop playing with the rocks. We found the hops stone!”

By the time the others arrived, Whisper had removed the plant and bottles. Sidedragon was pointing to the beer mug with the tip of his pen.

“It wasn’t a hop stone, the kid said hops as in the plant that’s used to make beer,” Sidedragon told them when finished recounting what had happened.

“We checked it for traps, and from what I can tell there’s a rod or something connected to the base of the beer mug,” Whisper said.

“Can you turn it or tip it to the side?” asked Montaigne.

Whisper grasped the mug, lifted it up a few inches off the surface of the fridge. She looked back at the others, and they all gave a nod of approval. With a determined twist, she rotated the mug 90 degrees. The door to the pantry emitted a soft pop and hiss in response.

T.C. pointed toward the door, alerting the others, and said, "Hey kids, there was something in the keyhole. I saw it for like half a second."

Montaigne peered closely at the keyhole's light. "A De Sitter doorway perhaps."

"Rotate it again," urged Indigo.

Without hesitation, Whisper twisted the beer mug another 90 degrees. This time, Indigo kept a close eye on the keyhole.

"For 1-tenth of a second, I saw the bridge overlooking Easterly Bay," Indigo revealed. "It’s a small window of time to jump through. What do you want to do?"

“We go in, and get Boss Kitty back,” said Tauru.

***