August 21st 2038

"Clayton, you have been working on this for a long, long time. Maybe it is time to let it go. George and John have been gone now for what like 16 years?" Samual Girard asked.

Samual was a lead intelligence collector for the NSA. He had been at his job for 30 years and it looked it in his face. He had numerous wrinkles, stood about 6 feet tall and had light skin. If one looked closely enough they could see a darker patch of skin on the left side of his neck. It was a mark that had been left from an attempt to torture him in his early days in the agency. He had barely left that episode alive, but that was long enough ago that he could barely remember the specifics. So many things had happened in his career, including the mystery of what exactly happened with George and John.

Samual had just been promoted to lead intelligence collector for the Eastern Pacific when they died. No one could understand exactly why they had been shot. It was clear they had been on a mission there, but no one to this day had spoken about what mission exactly it was that they had been on. What were they there for? Who sent them? These were the questions he had sent his best new intelligence collector to find out nearly 16 years earlier.

Whatever these people were up to behind the scenes it couldn't be good. Samual had spent plenty of time in China before becoming the lead intelligence collector, he knew how they worked. To be sure Samual had really enjoyed the Chinese people, he had generally found them to be kind and reserved. It was the government of China that Samual had come to despise. In fact it had been Chinese agents from the government who were responsible for that dark patch of skin on his neck.

Clayton Johnson was younger than Samual, and had been a brand new agent out of college when he was sent to work the case. He had already proven himself reliable at getting information in his previous assignment, which had given Samual the confidence that he was the right man for the job. Though Clayton stood a bit shorter than Samual, he still had a commanding presence. His dark skin had far fewer wrinkles (though they had begun to creep in) and he carried around large biceps and broad shoulders, along with dark brown skin. Beyond his physical prowess, Johnson was also among the most intelligent of the field agents. He spoke several languages, and had studied and understood local culture and customs of the region he had been assigned to. Amazingly he had also mastered the ability to blend in when so few other agents could.

But there was one thing that still kept Clayton up at night. He had yet to solve the mystery, after 16 years of working on it, on and off, he still didn't know the simple answer to the question what were they working on? Apparently the mission they were on was off the books, or a mission they had chosen to pursue themselves. It didn't matter to Clayton though. What mattered was he had two dead colleagues on his hands and no understanding of why they were dead.

"Samual, I have worked for you now for what? A bit more than 16 years now right?"

"Yes, it is true." Samual replied.

"I have done everything that you have asked of me, with the exception of the mystery right?"

"You have."

"Please for the sake of my sanity let me keep working on this. I can't sleep at night anymore. I have become consumed by this. I NEED to get to the bottom of it." Clayton begged.

"That is what worries me Clayton."

"Stop you know you don't need to wor..." Clayton began.

"Clayton how many body bags have you brought me this past year?"

"OK, OK, but it was only 5 of the 10 that were there that night, and I have brought you 4 alive."

"OK Clayton, here is the deal. Thanks to you we know there were 10 there that night, so there is one more out there and he is still alive as far as we can tell. If you bring him back to me alive, I will let you dedicate the entirety of your time to this project."

"Have the 4 given you ANYTHING?" Clayton asked.

"Nothing, they won't speak of it. The CIA has come in with their "special" tactics as a favor too, and still nothing."

"Damn, well number 10 has been quite crafty to this point, maybe he is the key." Clayton mused.

"Let us hope so. Now go!" Samual ordered.

Clayton left Samual's office without saying another word. He had already arranged to be taken to Shanghai and was leaving in 2 hours, but he knew, that Samual already knew that he had made these arrangements anyhow. Samual had been on this job quite a bit longer than Clayton, and Clayton knew that Samual understood how field agents worked.

As Clayton left the building he stopped to be scanned by the AI system that kept watch over NSA headquarters. It was common procedure these days. Clayton thought to himself; Boy some things have really changed since I started working here. Upon exiting the building he looked at the sky which was darkened briefly by drones flying overhead.

He admired the NSA headquarters which had no wires leading into it. Modern day technology had allowed them to switch completely to solar power. They were no longer subject to possible grid failures. This was something important to an agency like the NSA. They couldn't have a cyber attack cutting off their power. In fact the only way to shut off the power to the NSA was through physical access to the advanced battery storage units. With the number of armed personnel at the facility this risk was miniscule.

When Clayton had begun working at the agency there were no AI systems controlling access to the building, that was just people. There were no drones flying overhead to deliver packages and people, all that was done by cars. And the headquarters had been attached to the grid.

"Some things have really changed." Clayton said aloud to himself.