Grimoires and Gunsmoke

“Jesus-FUCKING-Christ, why is she so goddamn STRONG?” The man who flew off complained as he crawled on the ground.

As the man groaned, a litany of instructors and cadre started to come out of the woodwork as if they just materialized out of thin air. Among them was a woman with striking blonde hair dressed in black jeans and a grey T-shirt that looked more at home on a college campus other than the infamous CIA training ground, also known simply as The Farm. The blonde stepped forward with her arms crossed, and even though she was petite and dainty, the woman exuded authority as she looked over everyone with an expression that said she wasn’t to be trifled with.

"Well done, I’m impressed." The woman began with an encouraging tone. "You're rather convincing in some areas, but your approach has a few fatal flaws." She continued while walking up to Lysandra with a clipboard in hand.

The blonde cadre looked down at the man writhing in pain and raised an eyebrow before turning back to Lysandra. "For instance, putting the napkin in your pocket," she continued, "No one does that."

“Another point of contention…” The Blonde cadre glanced over her clipboard again. "Is your situational awareness, you need to be mindful of your exits and potential threats.”

“You were already made by your first mistake, but during your exfil, you focused too much on your immediate aggressors and missed opportunities to escape or use your environment to your advantage." She retraced Lysandra’s steps and pointed out critical details in the alleyway.

Lysandra scratched behind her ears and interjected, addressing the instructor by name. "Jamie, I didn't have much time. It only took a few seconds for them to catch up."

Jamie stared briefly at the Elf before tossing her clipboard to another instructor and snapping her fingers, signaling the scenario to reset. "Jared, stop wriggling around like a bitch," she called out to the man still on the ground. "You and Mike, go back to where Lysandra first saw you."

The two men groaned as they got up and moved to reposition themselves as instructed. Jamie in the meantime, prepared to demonstrate an alternative course of action as she assumed the role of Lysandra and gestured for the elf to observe closely.

"Watch how I handle this," Jamie said as she started walking the same path Lysandra had taken.

As soon as she rounded the corner and 'spotted' Jared and Mike, she didn't hesitate. Jamie broke into a swift sprint. In a matter of seconds, Jamie reached the dumpster near the wall, and without slowing down, she leaped onto it, using the momentum to propel herself upward toward the fire escape ladder. She grabbed the ladder's lower rungs with practiced ease, pulled herself up, and slipped into the shadows of a doorway.

By the time Jared and Mike reached the same point, they turned the corner to see an empty alleyway with no sign of their target. They looked around and heaved an annoyed sign while their eyes scanned the area for any trace of Jamie, but she had vanished into thin air.

After a few moments, Jamie popped her head out from the doorway, looking down at Lysandra. "From here," she began, gesturing towards the shadowy doorway she had used for her escape, "you have options. You can pick the lock and make entry into the building, giving you a chance to either find a hiding spot or a new exit. Or," she paused, pointing up to the higher levels of the fire escape, "you can keep going up, putting more distance between you and your pursuers."

“Of-fuckin’-course.” Mike rolled his eyes and threw his arms up. “Of course, you’re up there, why wouldn’t you be?”

“I swear, she's a goddamn monkey,” Jared added, scratching his head.

Lysandra's eye twitched, partly in awe and partly in frustration. Lysandra found the speed of Jamie's decision-making, coupled with her agility without the aid of any form of magical empowerment, difficult to comprehend. Being able to harness the powers of mana naturally from a young age, Lysandra was always used to relying on her physical abilities and enhanced senses. Still, Jamie's approach made her aware that maybe she had grown reliant on those abilities.

Noticing Lysandra's reaction, Jamie climbed down from her perch and walked back towards the group. "But, these are all just minor tactical issues. The most concerning is that you were made in the first place," she started, addressing the core of Lysandra's earlier actions. "As you can tell, I'm not particularly strong, and I don't have that magic shit or whatever to overpower someone. If two men like Jared and Mike caught me, it's over."

“So the first order of things is, don’t get made,” Jamie said, holding up a singular finger. “If you’re made, don’t get caught.” She then threw up a second finger. “And finally, if you’re caught, don’t die.”

As Jamie laid out the cardinal rules of their line of work, Lysandria felt as if each was a stab in the heart. She had struck 2 for 3. As she mulled over Jamie's words, Lysandra couldn't help but scratch at her eyepatch, a gesture that had become a subconscious tick whenever she was deep in thought or grappling with a problem.

“You said I was convincing though…” Lysandra said meekly in an attempt to defend herself. “Wouldn’t most people just glaze that I put a napkin in my pocket?”

A sigh left Jamie's mouth as she flicked some hair out of her face. “You’re not trying to convince ‘most’ people. You’re trying to convince trained observers," Jamie lectured, emphasizing each word. "You need to blend in and become effectively background noise."

Jamie then turned to Mike and Jared and crossed her arms. "Besides the napkin, what else made Lysandra stand out to you? Why did you pay more attention to her than the other trainees in the bar?"

"She was talking too much," Jared responded first and stated bluntly. "In a place like that, most people are there to unwind and mind their own business. They don't engage much with the staff beyond what's necessary, especially as a first-timer."

Mike nodded in agreement and added his perspective. "It didn't necessarily give her away per se, but it drew a lot more attention than it needed to. And honestly, that’s all we needed to key her as a person of interest."

Lysandra cringed and shifted uncomfortably at the critique while her ears drooped slightly in distress. The sharpness of the feedback, while meant to be constructive, had clearly struck a chord with her.

Sensing Lysandra's discomfort, Jamie's demeanor softened significantly. She let out a gentle sigh and offered a more approachable, almost nurturing smile as she stepped closer to Lysandra. She decided it was best to switch from the strict instructor and change her approach to something more palpable, like a guiding mentor.

"Hey, look," Jamie said softly in a tone that carried warmth. "I know you’re new at this and were kinda just thrown to the wolves, so I understand it can be tough to hear.” She continued placing a hand on Lysandra’s arm. “But you’re doing really well and we just want you to succeed."

"You have experiences and knowledge from the other side that we don't, and that's invaluable to us.” She gestured to the rest of the instructors and cadre. “So we need to make sure you’re not just qualified, but overqualified so when you come back, you can train the next generation that comes through… or even train us."

When Lysandra looked up, the disheartened look on her face started to melt away as she took a deep breath. The cadre’s words of encouragement seemed to reignite a sense of renewed determination within her as her posture straightened and her ears perked up slightly.

"I understand," Lysandra responded, her voice steady. "Let's continue then."

Observing the change in demeanor, Jamie couldn't help but smile, pleased with the elf's response. However, her professionalism immediately snapped back into place when she turned back to her team, "Alright, everyone!" Jamie announced, addressing the instructors and trainees. "Let's take a break from tradecraft for now and transition to weapons and joint operations training. “Jamie's hands clapped together and she began walking out of the alleyway. “We've still got a lot to cover!"

-

The clicks of Toivonen’s heels echoed throughout the walls of the Pentagon as she walked with a sense of purpose. She was dressed impeccably in her sleek business top with her pencil skirt and exuded the perfect blend of professionalism and elegance.

As she made her way through the corridors of such vaunted and prestigious halls, she passed by men and women in their dress uniforms so impeccably maintained and adorned with a litany of service ribbons, and they were the envy of all. But today, Toivonen’s presence took priority as she clutched tightly at a relatively thick folder nestled securely within her arms.

Toivonen's journey through the Pentagon stopped her in front of a particular door with two stern-looking Military Police (MP) officers standing outside. A strange foreboding feeling started to swell in the pit of her stomach as she closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. For all that had gone wrong that past half year, she had managed to stay afloat and lock in a meeting with the highest echelons of the United States; this wasn't just another high-level meeting; it was potentially a defining moment not only for her career but for the trajectory of national security and global affairs.

As Toivonen stood there, her thoughts raced, and the specter of self-doubt began to rear its ugly face. The sheer magnitude of what lay ahead was starting to become overwhelming. Right now, she was about to present critical intelligence and recommendations on matters that would reshape the fate of not only the United States but the world. They stood on the precipice, and Toivonen would be the slight nudge that would send them over the edge.

The two MPs in front of her maintained their hard, neutral expressions, trained to be the epitome of military professionalism. However, sensing her hesitation, one of them—a dark-skinned man with a steely gaze—caught Toivonen’s eye and gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod of encouragement.

Drawing in another deep breath, Toivonen steeled herself and stepped forward.

“Ma’am, Identification please.” One of the MPs spoke as they both nodded at Toivonen.

Tremors of nervousness coursed through Toivonen as her hands gripped tightly around the plastic ID badge. However, through force of will, she fought through her nerves and pulled the lanyard forward to present it to the MP.

The large, muscular man grabbed her credentials and took a moment to scrutinize the badge, his eyes flicking from her face to the imprinted photo. Cross-referencing the attendance sheet, triple-checked her face, her name, and her clearance level printed on it. Satisfied, he then nodded to his colleague, who stepped forward with a handheld biometric scanner.

"Please place your thumb on the scanner, ma'am," the second MP instructed.

Toivonen complied, pressing her thumb firmly against the glass surface of the device. The scanner whirred, verifying her fingerprint against the Pentagon's secure database. After a brief moment, a green light blinked on the device, signaling a successful match.

The MPs exchanged glances before the one with the scanner spoke, "Apologies for the delay, ma'am. You’re cleared to proceed."

With her identification verified, Toivonen quickly stepped through the door as the MP turned back to their security detail. Once in the new room, she was immediately met with a metal detector and various unknown scanning devices, hinting at the level of security and secrecy of the meeting she was about to attend.

But beyond the security checkpoint, the atmosphere of the room shifted noticeably. Several soldiers populated it, and these individuals had a different air than the MPs outside. Unlike the usual strict and rigid professionalism a soldier would have in these vaunted halls, these men exuded a more relaxed and casual demeanor. Yet, there was an undercurrent of alertness and danger to their presence. They were clad in various customized and personalized gear, their weapons not standard issue but rather tailored to their individual preferences and roles.

Toivonen recognized them immediately. These people were no ordinary soldiers, nor were they ordinary security detail. The organizers of this meeting were taking no chances and enlisted a highly trained special missions unit from the exalted Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) to safeguard them. Their presence here spoke volumes about the level of secrecy and importance of this evening.

As she passed through the metal detectors, the soft beep and humm of devices echoed throughout the room signifying their scans had completed. The operators in the room observed her intensely as they moved closer

“ID, please, ma'am," one of them requested in a less than formal tone but still maintained a semblance of procedure.

Complying with the operator's request, Toivonen presented her credentials once more. The operators quickly glanced at her ID, their eyes flicking back and forth between the badge and Toivonen herself. After a brief examination, one of them spoke up, "Please spread your arms and legs, ma'am. I apologize for the intrusion."

Toivonen did as instructed and stood still as another operator approached her with a strange-looking device. The operator meticulously waved a paddle like device across every inch of her body as if scanning for something. It was an invasive process, but Toivonen understood the importance of such stringent security measures given the nature of the meeting.

Once the operators seemed satisfied with the results. They nodded to her, indicating that she was cleared to proceed. "They're waiting for you inside." The soldier said, moving out of the way.

With her ID around her neck and her documents snug against her body, Toivonen prepared to enter the final stage of her journey to the meeting. However, the weight of the moment caused her to pause one last time before stepping into the room where decisions of immense consequence were to be made.

Collecting her thoughts and calming her nerves, Toivonen took one last breath before throwing open the door. Once inside, she was met with the gaze of some of the most powerful individuals in the United States. The room was filled with high-ranking military officers and top government officials, and each of them stared directly at her.

The Secretary of Defense, Mark Leigh, sat stoically, his eyes seemingly trying to bore a hole into her. Besides him, the Secretary of State, Cassandra Easton, had a much more subdued and harder-to-read expression as she quietly conversed with an aide. The Joint Chiefs of Staff and their Chairman were engaged in their own hushed discussion at one end of the table while the Speaker of the House, Marcus Shaw, motioned for her to sit down.

For a moment, Toivonen found herself standing there like a deer in the headlights, but her training soon kicked in. Steeling herself, she turned off her emotions, confidently strode towards the large ornate table, placed her documents in front of the Director of National Intelligence, and sat down.

"Well, now that's Mich's girl here; let's get started," The Speaker of the House said, turning towards the Director of National Intelligence, Thomas Dalton, for him to introduce the girl.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, Mr. President, this is Ms. Evelina Toivonen from the Central Intelligence Agency.” Thomas Dalton stood up and gestured towards Toivonen. “She and many of her esteemed colleagues have been instrumental in spearheading a project that has not only helped us understand the language of these extraterrestrial beings but has also played a critical role in enlisting individuals who can help us better understand the strange energy these beings wield."

As Dalton spoke, murmurs echoed among the officials from NATO countries and allied nations listening in through a secure broadcast. One voice, with a distinct British accent, broke through the murmurs. "Director Dalton, could you elaborate on the nature of this 'strange energy'? How does it differ from our conventional understanding of physics or energy manipulation?"

Another voice, this time from a French official, spoke in a concerned tone, "And what about the potential uses for this knowledge? Are there exotic resources required that are only found on the other side of that rift to use it?”

A barrage of questions came hurtling through the broadcast as representatives of allied nations expressed their concerns and curiosity. The topics ranged from the potential for energy production using this new form of energy to the geopolitical implications of being the only nation with access to this new plane of reality.

Sensing the need to address these concerns diplomatically, a top scientist from the project team stood up to speak. She glanced at the Secretary of State, who nodded subtly in approval, signaling her to proceed.

"I-if I may… I understand t-there are many questions and concerns regarding this umm… this discovery," the scientist began with a shaky voice, unused to speaking to such powerful people. "I want to assure you that our understanding of this energy and its implications is still in its infancy. Our team, including leading physicists and experts in the field, is working tirelessly to unravel the mysteries of this new plane of reality."

She finally got into her groove and continued, "Our goal is to be as transparent as possible with our findings. We are in the process of establishing a collaborative framework with our international partners. This includes working closely with experts in mythology and ancient civilizations to explore potential historical overlaps and insights."

As soon as she finished speaking, another slew of questions poured in through the broadcast, each representative eager to voice their nation's concerns and interests.

Sensing the need to refocus the meeting, the President of the United States’ voice boomed over the broadcast and quieted the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, please," he interjected firmly. "I understand the significance and the multitude of questions this discovery brings. But we must remember the primary focus of this meeting. We have interrupted Ms. Toivonen's critical work to update us on the current status of her project, and it is only right we take care of that first."

The room fell silent, acknowledging the President’s slight reprimand before the man returned his attention to Toivonen. "Ms. Toivonen, could you please continue with your briefing? Let's focus on the immediate challenges and how we can utilize this new knowledge to protect our planet and its inhabitants."

Toivonen looked at the Director of National Intelligence before clearing her throat. “As you know, 48 hours ago, we launched a mission… codename Operation Tolkien using specialized and elite units to penetrate enemy lines.”

With the room's undivided attention, Toivonen continued her briefing. "As of 2 hours ago, we’ve received word that several Special Forces teams have not only made contact with local inhabitants. After securing the area, the team has also gathered critical intelligence confirming that the enemy has been employing scorched earth tactics against their own people."

She paused briefly, ensuring her words sank in. "However, it appears that the enemy's command structure is decentralized. There are multiple factions, some of which are attacking villages while others are defending them."

This revelation sparked a new wave of murmurs among the attendees while The Speaker of the House flipped through page after page of the documents in his hand. He then turned to Toivonen and gave her a difficult look. All of a sudden, he was A LOT more interested in that project she was running.

“We believe we have the assets to drive a wedge between them.” Toivonene finished, folding her hands on the desk and smiling.