Jim Jacobson paced back and forth in the conference room. It was the largest room on the ninth floor, featuring a table that could seat at least 20 people comfortably. Jacobson was walking from one end to the other so quickly that he was beginning to breathe heavily.

 

“Jim, please sit down. Your pacing is stressing me out.”

 

“No, Agent Lane, you stress me out,” he said, not skipping a beat.

 

Jim Jacobson was a shorter man, standing around 5’7”. He was around 50 years old and his brown hair had a growing bald spot on the crown. His brown suit didn’t fit him well. Maybe a better tailor could have saved his marriage, Laurel thought.

 

He went on, “You know, I’m tired of covering for you. You think the other agents don’t notice when you’re two hours late? Every week? You think they don’t talk?”

 

“I’m only late because I work long hours,” Laurel shrugged, “In fact, I bet I work longer hours than anyone on this floor.”

 

Reaching the end of the table, Jacobson turned around and starting walking back toward Laurel.

 

“Yeah, you work long hours alright. Burning the midnight oil chatting with anonymous DJs having schizophrenic episodes! Coming in two hours late raving about a Russian sleeper cell in Spring City!”

 

“I never said dj99 was an actual DJ. It could just be their initials. And they said that the sleeper cell is actually north of the city, in an industrial park.”

 

Jacobson froze, holding both hands up in the air, “Oh, excuse me, then. This anonymous person—who’s clearly having a mental breakdown, by the way—said they’re operating outside of Spring City. Did you ever stop to ask yourself why a goddamn Russian sleeper cell would be operating in Monroe? Why not New York or DC?”

 

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, Jimbo. If you’ll let me continue.”

 

He sighed and pulled out a seat, muttering, “You’re not senior enough to be wasting my time with this. How old are you again? 26?”

 

“25. Please, sit.”

 

He sighed again before practically falling into the chair.

 

“Jim, you know as well as I do that there’s been a ton of chatter lately. It’s even coming from those cities you mentioned. And that chatter is pointing us towards the Midwest. Russia is planning something here, everyone in the Eastern European division knows this.”

 

Resting his elbow on the table, Jim held his forehead in his right hand. “Yes, of course. Go on.”

 

“Dj99’s story fits in with this. I’ll admit, the mind control shit is a little far-fetched. But we shouldn’t dismiss their whole story just because of that. I’ve seen some weird shit in my day, years ago, back when I was still in college. I’ll have to tell you about it one day. Maybe over drinks?”

 

“Absolutely not,” said Jacobson. “Please, try to stay on topic.”

 

“Part of what dj99 said is legit. There’s this Russian import/export business that owns a warehouse in that industrial park. It’s called Pierogi and Kvass, or something like that. According to the Recorder of Deeds, they purchased the warehouse about three years ago. That’s the same time we started to see an uptick in chatter.”

 

“How would you even know that, weren’t you still in college then?” Jacobson groaned, rubbing his temples.”

 

“I can read old reports just like everyone else, Jim.”

 

“You know you should be calling me Director Jacobson, right? God damn, Agent Lane, you know other agents talk about this stuff.”

 

She shrugged, “Whatever. Anyway, Director Jacobson, I was able to do some research on the owners. They seem legit. But dj99 gave me a specific name to look up.” Laurel reached into her bag and pulled out her notebook. She rifled through the pages, which were heavily marked up in her terrible scribbles. Flipping to one of the last pages, she pressed her finger to the paper.

 

“Fyodor Orlov. I tried looking him up. Couldn’t find anything.”

 

Jacobson sighed, “If he’s an immigrant, there might not be much about him in our system.”

 

“Sure. But dj99 said he speaks English perfectly, without an accent.”

 

“So he had a good English tutor back in the Motherland, so what?”

 

Laurel shook her head, “There’s something odd about the whole thing. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

 

Jacobson looked up at her. Agent Laurel Lane. One of his most ambitious—and annoying—agents. Also one of his youngest. He stared into her green eyes. He was glad they were sitting down; when they were both standing up, she stood a good four inches taller than him.

 

“Fine,” he said, “follow up if you’d like. But this isn’t to take more than three hours of your time next week, understood?”

 

Laurel smiled. She had that look in her eye that flashed whenever she got her way. He hated that look.

 

“Thanks, Jimbo.”

 

“Director Jacobson.”

 

“Director Jacobson. I’m going to swing by the warehouse now and ask for this…” she checked her notes, “…Fyodor Orlov. Then tomorrow, I’m meeting up with dj99. Whoever they are, they live over in Collegeville.”

 

“Oh God,” Jacobson sighed, “dj99 is a Badger? That’d explain a lot.”

 

“We don’t know that for sure. Plus, it’ll be good to see it again,” Laurel said, standing up and putting her notebook back in her bag.

 

“See what?”

 

Laurel walked over to the door and opened it. She smiled back at him, that same old look.

 

“My old campus,” she said, and walked out the door.

 

***

 

Maria woke up gradually, over the course of several minutes. For a while, she lied in bed with her eyes closed. My bed’s unusually firm this morning, she thought. Oh well, it was Friday; she had no classes today. She could lay here as long as she wanted.

 

Then she remembered: the interview! She shot up and jumped out of bed.

 

Her bare feet met cold vinyl flooring. For the first time, she realized she wasn’t in her dorm at all.

 

Instead, she was in what looked like some sort of hospital room. It was small with white walls. Looking down, she realized she was wearing a blue medical gown. It didn’t take her long to realize she was naked underneath. She quickly looked around. Her clothes were nowhere to found.

 

 

She felt a twinge of pain in the back of her neck. Using her right hand, she massaged the sore spot but didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. She went to look outside, but realized there were no windows in the room. Instead, she turned around and tried to walk out the door. She grabbed the handle and twisted but it didn’t give. I’m locked in here. Panic began to set in.

 

Pull yourself together. She sat back down on the bed and tried to remember the events of the morning. She could remember driving from Collegeville to Spring City. Then to the weird industrial park. She remembered P&K’s warehouse. The blonde Tatiana and the brunette Irina. The man with the eye patch. His office. What was his name?

 

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Maria shot up.

 

Speak of the devil. The man with burgundy suit and eye patch walked in first, followed by another man in scrubs.

 

“Hello, Ms. Miller,” said the man in the suit, “Did you have a good nap?”

 

“Where am I? What happened?”

 

“You are at our office, of course. You are just waking up from a small procedure. Dr. Popov here took very good care of you,” he gestured to the man in scrubs. Both men were tall, over six feet. The man in the suit had black hair, swept back, while the man in scrubs had short brown hair.

 

“Procedure? I never signed up for any procedure.”

 

Orlov shook his head, “That’s where you’re wrong. You signed up when you brought that red pin back from St. Petersburg.”

 

Maria suddenly remembered. Yes, she had handed him the pin. What happened after that?

 

“You still didn’t answer,” she said. “What procedure?”

 

“Dr. Popov here implanted you with a Neural Impulse Regulation Apparatus. NIRA for short. How did the procedure go, Doctor?”

 

“Very well,” the doctor grinned.

 

None of this made any sense. Maria shook her head, “What the hell is a NIRA?”

 

“We’ll get to that later. How are you feeling?”

 

“Not great, to be honest. Where are my clothes? Tell me what going on!”

 

Orlov shrugged, “There’s not much to it. You came here for an Asset Interview. You were selected and I placed you into Category II. The rest is all just a matter of company policy.”

 

Maria sat back down on the bed. Her feet were cold. “What policy?” she asked.

 

“Our risk policy. It requires that all Category II Assets have a NIRA implanted. You’ve got the third version inside you. It’s our best yet, right Dr. Popov?”

 

“Oh yes,” he said.

 

“You keep saying that—‘implanted’. What does that mean?”

 

“Oh, well, Dr. Popov can go over all the details with you later,” he shot a quick glance at the doctor and tried to hide his smile. “But the short story is you have two tiny devices inside you that are attached to your spinal cord. Together these make up the NIRA. This device ensures your compliance per Pirozhki and Kvass’s risk policy.”

 

“You performed surgery on me… without my consent?” asked Maria. She felt herself getting angry. “Do you have any idea how illegal this all is? This is crazy! What makes you think I won’t report this all to the police as soon as I get out of here?”

 

“I thought you’d never ask,” said Orlov, who reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black device. “Before I walked in, I pressed a little button on here. Right now, it’s keeping you from forming long-term memories. You won’t remember any of this conversation.”

 

Maria looked at the phone-like device in Orlov’s hand. “This is nuts,” she said.

 

“Agreed. Technology these days, am I right?”

 

“I want to leave now.”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

 

Maria stood up. “You’re all crazy. I don’t even want the job anymore. I don’t know how Sofia convinced me this would be a great place to work.”

 

Orlov laughed, “Ms. Stevenson recruited you because we ordered her to. Despite your admiration for Ms. Stevenson’s commitment to Russia, she, too, had her doubts. That’s why I placed her in Category II as well when she came for her interview a year ago. And that’s why she has a NIRA, too.”

 

He’s bullshitting. “Okay, Fyo, if that’s even you’re real name, whatever you say. I’d like to leave now.”

 

“You will be able to leave after we confirm your NIRA is functional,” said Orlov.

 

“Sure, okay,” she said, and started walking toward the door. “Please get out of my way.”

 

Orlov began fiddling with the device in his hand. Maria began walking around the two men.

 

Suddenly, she froze mid step.

 

“What the fuck is this?!” she squealed.

 

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move any of her limbs. She couldn’t turn her head, either, although she could move her eyes and lips.

 

“That’s a good sign,” said Orlov, speaking to Dr. Popov. “This lucid freeze feature is pure genius. Give my compliments to Zakharov, Doctor.” Orlov walked around so that he was facing Maria. “You can’t move your fingers or anything?” he asked her.

 

She tried and failed. What the hell! “No. What is going on? This is scaring me!”

 

“Not even your toes?” he bent down and examined her feet. He decided to give them a little rub, just to make sure.

 

“Make this stop! Please!”

 

He stood up again, “Thank you for your patience, Ms. Miller. I just wanted to check to see if this feature was functional. Looks like it is. I will now dial your lucidity down to zero. Sorry about that.”

 

“What does that mean? No! I just want to be unfrozen!”

 

“It was nice speaking with you, Ms. Miller. We’ll chat later.”

 

“Please, just le—”

 

Maria’s face went blank. All awareness vanished. Her eyelids drooped and her mouth hung open. Instead of being frozen mid-step, she returned to a neutral position, both of her bare feet planted on the ground with her arms hanging limply by her sides.

 

Orlov walked in front of her and waved his hand in front of her face. She didn’t react. “Good response to the lucidity dial,” he said.

 

“Of course. You expect to find defects in my work?” Popov sneered.

 

“Not necessarily your work. Maybe Zak’s.”

 

“Dr. Zakharov has outdone himself with v3. There are no defects.”

 

“I don’t know about that,” said Orlov as he circled around Maria, “but I’ll admit, v3 is impressive.”

 

He stopped in front of her again, “Maria, can you hear me?”

 

She didn’t respond. Dr. Popov seethed, “You know they can’t engage in conversation. Yes, they’re always listening, even when lucidity is dialed down to zero. You must give her a command.”

 

“If you ask me, that conversation thing is a defect. But I’ll take that up with Zak at our meeting this afternoon,” he said, then, “Maria, take off your gown.”

 

Slowly, Maria reached behind her and undid the knots keeping the back of her gown together. She gently slid her arms out of the sleeves and let the gown fall to her feet.

 

There she stood, her blonde hair falling to just above her nipples. Orlov scanned her body voraciously, taking in her perky tits, tight stomach, and her long, well-toned legs. “Damn,” he said, breathlessly.

 

He then abruptly reached his hand out and groped her left breast. He stared into her half-lidded eyes, trying to detect the slightest sign of a reaction, but saw nothing. Her breast was soft in his hand as he massaged the creamy white flesh. They then lightly flicked her small pink nipple. Still no reaction.

 

“Amazing,” said Orlov. Dr. Popov coughed loudly.

 

“Oh, stop,” snapped Orlov, “you were doing far worse an hour ago. This is just additional testing.”

 

“As I mentioned, testing is unnecessary,” Popov groaned.

 

Orlov ignored him, released Maria’s breast, and walked behind her. He then made his palm flat and wound his arm back, before bringing it forward quickly and giving Maria a hard slap on the ass.

 

Dr. Popov flinched at the sound. Still, Maria showed no sign of reacting. Orlov watched with glee as a red handprint slowly developed on Maria’s right ass cheek.

 

“What will you end up using this one for?” asked Dr. Popov.

 

Orlov looked over at him, surprised, “Suddenly taking an interest in our field operations?” He started slowly pacing back and forth, “Oh, her first mission will be to seduce some professor. University of Monroe. Computer Science. That’s all I can say.”

 

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Orlov and Dr. Popov exchanged glances.

 

“Come in!” Orlov said.

 

The door swung open and a tall brunette appeared in the entrance.

 

Dr. Popov started, “Ms. Nikitina, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this morn—”

 

“Sorry, Dr. Popov,” Irina interjected, “I need to speak to Mr. Orlov.”

 

“Me?” asked Orlov, “What’s going on?”

 

Irina, who had been staring at Maria since she opened the door, now turned to Orlov. “There’s an agent from the Monroe Bureau of Investigation outside the warehouse. She specifically asked for you.”

 

“An MBI agent?” said Orlov, his blue eye widening. “She asked to speak to me? How the hell does she know my name?”

 

Irina shrugged, “I don’t know. All I can tell you is she’s legit; she flashed her badge at Tatiana. Agent Laurel Lane. We tried to do some quick research on her, but we couldn’t find much. She’s young.”

 

Orlov brushed off his burgundy velvet suit and stood up straight. “Okay, I’ll go find out what she wants. Where is she now?”

 

“We told her it would be a couple minutes before I came to get you. She said, ‘Okay,’ and then walked back outside. Our cameras show her examining the perimeter of the warehouse.”

 

“She’s suspicious, that’s not good,” said Dr. Popov.

 

“Thanks for the brilliant insight, Doctor,” snapped Orlov. “You stay here with the Asset. I’ll be back shortly to begin her programming. Irina, come with me.”

 

“Yes, sir,” said Irina, who took one last glance at Maria before turning towards the hall.

 

Orlov quickly walked out the door and down the hall with Irina. When they had walked several steps away from Maria’s room, Orlov stopped and grabbed Irina’s arm.

 

Whispering, he said, “What are you doing back here? You don’t have clearance for this area.”

 

Irina glared at him, “This seemed pretty significant. I wanted to alert you right away.”

 

Orlov released her arm. “Yes, well… next time you get one of the twins, okay? Popov is going to give me shit for this.”

 

“Will do, sir,” she said, and began walking down the hall once more.

 

Eventually they entered the “office” area of the warehouse, where Orlov left Irina before proceeding out the front door. The air was cold. He looked left and right, but didn’t see any sign of the MBI agent. Sighing, he turned left and started walking the perimeter of the building. Should have brought my damn coat, he thought.

 

He turned the corner of the building and began walking around its eastern wall. He didn’t have to walk far before he spotted a redheaded woman peering into one of windows.

 

“Can I help you, ma’am?” Orlov shouted.

 

He obviously startled the woman, who almost fell over at the sound of his voice. She steadied herself, quickly regained her composure, and began walking towards him.

 

The first thing Orlov noticed was her long red hair, which stood out in stark contrast to the drab winter day. She wore a long black overcoat, although Orlov caught some small glimpses of pale white legs underneath. As she grew closer, Orlov realized that this woman was almost as tall as he was. When she finally stopped walking and stood directly across from him, her bright green eyes were level with his. There was a mysterious intensity about this girl, Orlov thought. I need to be careful.

 

“You’re Fyodor Orlov?” she asked.

 

“Last time I checked. Call me Fyo.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Fyo,” she stuck out her hand, “I’m Agent Laurel Lane with the Monroe Bureau of Investigation.”

 

“The MBI…” he grasped her hand and shook, “…what can I do for you, Agent Lane?”

 

She began walking past him towards the front of the building, where Orlov had just come from. Without turning her head, she said, “Talk to me about Pirozhki & Kvass. What do you do here?”

 

Annoyed, Orlov turned around, following her. “We’re an import/export business focusing on trade with Russia. This is one of our warehouses. My employee said you asked for me specifically?”

 

“What do you import?” she asked, turning the corner.

 

“Boring stuff, mostly. Minerals. Cement. We do export some more exciting stuff, mostly perfumes. Some vinegar. We have a good amount stored here. I can show you if you’d like.”

 

“I may take you up on that,” she stopped short of the front door and turned back to face him. “And how long have you worked here?”

 

“Oh, two and a half… three years?” he pretended to think hard about the question.

 

She smiled at him. It wasn’t a friendly smile. “I’ve gotta tell you, Fyo, you’re a bit of a ghost; I couldn’t find anything about you online,” she said, staring into his blue eye.

 

He shrugged, “Privacy is important to me. It should be important to everyone, these days,” he said, focusing on her bright green eyes. How rare for me to stand eye-to-eye with a woman, he thought.

 

“You’re so right,” she said, “but you wouldn’t mind if I take a look around?”

 

“You said you couldn’t find anything about me online. Why were you looking in the first place?”

 

She had been reaching for the front door, but paused. “Well, I’ll be honest with you. We received an anonymous tip about this place. Someone thinks you do some pretty crazy things over here.”

 

He faked a laugh. “Just your typical warehouse operations. I wouldn’t call anything we do here ‘crazy’.”

 

“And the strangest thing is, this person named you specifically,” she said. “And I tried to google you, and found nothing.”

 

Orlov stepped closer. “And what sort of crazy things did this person say we do here?”

 

“Let’s just say that it sounds like your employees are a little overworked,” she said, remaining still as Orlov inched closer to her.

 

They stood about two feet apart now. Orlov’s fake smile sat frozen on his face. He caught the faintest whiff of her perfume.

 

“Hey, how about I give you that tour?”

 

She looked towards the door then back at him. For a moment she didn’t say anything, just stared at him. Then, finally, she smiled. “Hmm, perhaps another time, Fyo.”

 

With that, she turned and started walking towards the parking lot.  

 

Orlov watched the MBI agent walk away. He suddenly noticed how fast his heart was beating. What the hell was that?

 

He watched her get into her car, reverse out of her spot, then quickly peel out onto the road. He stood, anchored to the same spot, until he saw her car finally disappear around the corner.

 

***

 

“Thanks for the brilliant insight, Doctor. You stay here with the Asset. I’ll be back shortly to begin her programming. Irina, come with me.”

 

Dr. Popov watched as Orlov and Irina walked out of the room. He was now alone with Asset 232. She stood motionless in the middle of the room. He walked over and stood behind her. Orlov’s red handprint was still clearly visible on her asscheek.

 

He reached up and gently grabbed some of her hair. He leaned in and sniffed it. It gave off a delightful, clean scent that was reminiscent of freshly laundered linens. He placed his hands on her shoulders, giving them a soft rub.

 

“Your procedure went very well indeed, Ms. Miller.” He released her shoulders and reached around to the front of her body, cupping her breasts in each of his hands. He kneaded her soft flesh, feeling the hardness of her nipples between his fingers. He leaned in and kissed the back of her neck.

 

 

He slowly lowered his hands, letting Maria’s breasts bounce free. He ran his hands down her torso, keeping them tight to her body the whole time. His fingers pressed into her toned stomach, his hands narrowed at her waist before bending around the curve of her hips. He positioned his right hand over her labia while his left hand returned to her tight ass.

 

Maria stood mute and motionless as Dr. Popov groped her. He smiled. In many ways, this was no different than what he did to her while she was under anesthesia. There was some novelty to the fact that she was standing up and technically awake, yes, but, just like an hour ago, this violation garnered no protest from his patient.

 

And I don’t need to worry about Nadya’s judgement in here, he thought as his right hand gripped her pussy. His left hand roamed over her ass, feeling its gentle curve, squeezing her well-toned cheeks. “You know, Ms. Miller, I was in your ass not too long ago,” he whispered into her unhearing ear. “So deep in your ass. And you had no idea.”

 

Saying the words gave him a rush of blood to the head—well, both heads. And suddenly he had an idea. What if he were to probe her ass not with a colonoscope or a finger, but… something else. He felt dizzy just thinking about it. No, I can’t. Orlov could be back any second now. He looked up at the cameras. Footage can be deleted… I have access to the database. He released Maria’s pussy and stuck his right hand into his pocket. After searching for a second or two, he pulled out a key. I can lock the room from inside. I’ll be quick.

 

It was decided. I want her unconscious for this. Just like before. Still standing behind her, he whispered into her ear, “Maria, sleep.”

 

Maria let out a gentle moan before going limp. Orlov caught her as she fell, supporting her weight by grabbing her tits. He slowly dragged her backwards towards the bed, her bare feet sliding along the vinyl floor. When he was next to the bed, he swung her around so that she landed on her stomach. He took her ankles in both hands and pulled until her ass stuck out over the edge of the bed, the soles of her feet facing him.

 

He walked over and opened one of the medical drawers. After searching for a few seconds, he pulled out a small bottle of medical-grade lubricant. He walked back over to where Maria’s sleeping body lay bent over the bed. He quickly pulled his scrubs and briefs down to his ankles.

 

He opened the bottle of lube with a little pop.

 

“Apologies, Ms. Miller, there will be one last rectal exam,” he grinned. “Don’t worry, it will be as painless as the last.”  

 

***

 

“Pick up, damn it!”

 

Laurel sped down the industrial road, heading south back towards Spring City proper. She passed warehouse after warehouse as the sun began to set.

 

Suddenly she heard a click. “Jacobson.”

 

“Jim, I think I’m onto something here.”

 

“Oh, hi, Agent Lane.” He didn’t sound excited.

 

“This Orlov guy is sketchy as hell,” she said, taking a sharp right. “There’s something off about this whole company, I feel it in my gut.”

 

“Oh, good, well as long as you feel it in your gut—”

 

“I mean, he wears an eye patch, for starters. And he matches it with his fucking suit!”

 

“What does that have—”

 

“He got nervous when I said I googled him. He tried to act cool but I saw through it.”

 

“You told him you googled him? What exactly did you say to this man?”

 

“Enough to make him think we’re onto him. To make him think we’re watching. Enough to make him make a mistake.” She took the exit onto the highway.

 

“We don’t even know that they’re doing anything illegal, Agent Lane. This is borderline harassment.”

 

“I’m meeting with dj99 tomorrow. I’m going to get more details out of them and start putting together this case.”

 

“Don’t forget that you have actual tasks to complete. You know, tasks that I gave you. Like those two reports I mentioned yesterday”

 

“Uh huh. Thanks, Jimbo!” she said, quickly hanging up.

 

The Spring City skyline grew closer, surrounded by the evening sky’s mix of red and violet. She couldn’t help but think of Orlov’s suit. What is he hiding?