01-10-2024, 11:59 PM
The instructions that he received were clear. If they had arrived electronically, he might have doubted their legitimacy, but rather, they were delivered by a Facility representative from the Kremlin. A knock on the door was an unexpected surprise, given the building was locked down in the lobby for those who weren’t residents. Technically speaking, Jensen was only staying in the upscale loft as Doulou’s guest, but out of the graciousness of his heart, the welcome was indefinite.
He pulled open the door to find a official from the Kremlin standing there. He wore the same uniform that Jensen recognized as one associated with the Facility. In one arm was a datapad and the other held a garment bag.
“Can I help you?” He asked, curious and slightly apprehensive. They kept Iason’s disguise on site in the Facility for cleaning and security, so he wasn’t sure what this was about.
The messenger offered no helpful explanation, “I can’t stay, but your attendance is expected tonight.” The words were delivered with a finality that left little room for negotiation. “A car will pick you up at that time. Be ready.”
He then surrendered the bag, and Jensen stood there for a moment, holding it awkwardly, a sense of unease settling over him. Jensen unzipped the bag to reveal a sleek tuxedo with a striking white dinner jacket – tailored to his size, no doubt, elegant and formal. It was clear this was no ordinary event he was being summoned to.
The mix of secrecy and the high-class nature of the attire suggested that this was something significant, possibly tied to the Ascendancy's intricate and often opaque machinations. Was it another ball?
A tinge of apprehension at the thought of being drawn deeper into the Kremlin’s machinations crept over him, especially after the revelations and emotional turmoil of the launch party. Yet, there was also a part of him that was intrigued, curious about what this event could entail and what role he was expected to play. The messenger departed.
With mixed feelings, he laid the tuxedo out, pondering the implications of this unexpected summons. Strangely, accompanying the attire was a beautiful white mask. He scratched the back of his neck… “Okay, then.” He said to himself.
He was ready at the appointed time, wearing the beautiful tuxedo and matching mask. He took care to style his hair and facial hair to match the level of event he anticipated he would be attending. The car eventually delivered him to the grounds of a grand estate, the likes of which may as well have been a palace.
There were paparazzi waiting outdoors, capturing his image as he ascended the steps. He was glad of the mask, but he couldn’t help but stand a little taller as he entered what was revealed to be a luxurious party.
He pulled open the door to find a official from the Kremlin standing there. He wore the same uniform that Jensen recognized as one associated with the Facility. In one arm was a datapad and the other held a garment bag.
“Can I help you?” He asked, curious and slightly apprehensive. They kept Iason’s disguise on site in the Facility for cleaning and security, so he wasn’t sure what this was about.
The messenger offered no helpful explanation, “I can’t stay, but your attendance is expected tonight.” The words were delivered with a finality that left little room for negotiation. “A car will pick you up at that time. Be ready.”
He then surrendered the bag, and Jensen stood there for a moment, holding it awkwardly, a sense of unease settling over him. Jensen unzipped the bag to reveal a sleek tuxedo with a striking white dinner jacket – tailored to his size, no doubt, elegant and formal. It was clear this was no ordinary event he was being summoned to.
The mix of secrecy and the high-class nature of the attire suggested that this was something significant, possibly tied to the Ascendancy's intricate and often opaque machinations. Was it another ball?
A tinge of apprehension at the thought of being drawn deeper into the Kremlin’s machinations crept over him, especially after the revelations and emotional turmoil of the launch party. Yet, there was also a part of him that was intrigued, curious about what this event could entail and what role he was expected to play. The messenger departed.
With mixed feelings, he laid the tuxedo out, pondering the implications of this unexpected summons. Strangely, accompanying the attire was a beautiful white mask. He scratched the back of his neck… “Okay, then.” He said to himself.
He was ready at the appointed time, wearing the beautiful tuxedo and matching mask. He took care to style his hair and facial hair to match the level of event he anticipated he would be attending. The car eventually delivered him to the grounds of a grand estate, the likes of which may as well have been a palace.
There were paparazzi waiting outdoors, capturing his image as he ascended the steps. He was glad of the mask, but he couldn’t help but stand a little taller as he entered what was revealed to be a luxurious party.