The Probability Shift

From setback to opportunity

Eugene Blake's mind churned with possibilities as he absorbed the implications of the UN's predictive system. The room felt colder, the crackling fire doing little to warm the chill of his thoughts. A system that could foresee events and prevent crises could prove a tool of immense power—a tool he could wield to reshape the world as he saw fit.

His lieutenant stood by, waiting for further instructions, while Blake was already several steps ahead in his mind. This proved not a setback after all, but an opportunity. He wanted to get his hands on this technology, and for that, he needed to reach the architects behind it.

"Who's responsible for this project?" Blake's voice cut through the silence again, a blade seeking its target.

The lieutenant quickly swiped on his tablet, bringing up profiles and data. "A researcher named Kevin Craft is the lead on the project," he reported. "He works closely with his wife, Vanessa Craft. They're both integral to its development."

Blake's eyes narrowed as he studied the images on the screen. Kevin Craft looked every bit the stereotypical scientist—unkempt hair, a distant gaze focused inward. Vanessa, on the other hand, exuded warmth and a poise that suggested she was more than just a researcher; no doubt she stood as a bridge between Kevin's genius and the real world.

"Kevin Craft," Blake mused aloud, rolling the name around in his mind. "And his wife... Vanessa." His lips twisted into something resembling a smile—cold and calculating. "We need to bring them into our fold."

"But, sir," the lieutenant interjected carefully, "they're deeply embedded with the UN. Approaching them could prove risky."

Blake's gaze shifted to his subordinate, his eyes piercing through him like twin daggers. "We don't approach them directly," he said slowly, as if explaining something painfully obvious. "We create circumstances that make them come to us... Isn't there some sort of gala organized by the UN coming up in the city?"

The lieutenant nodded, absorbing Blake's plan as it began to unfurl. "I'll make sure we're on the list of donators, sir."

"Not me," Blake continued, "not yet." He turned towards his henchman. "We need leverage. Find out everything there is to know about them—their weaknesses, their desires, what drives them." He paused, his eyes narrowing as if seeing something far beyond the confines of his study. "If a regular approach were to fail, we need to ensure they understand just how precarious their position is without our support."

The lieutenant scribbled notes rapidly on his tablet. "I'll have our best operatives gather intel immediately."

Blake nodded, satisfied with this first step. But this only prefigured an intricate dance—a chess game where he always played several moves ahead.

"Once we have enough information," Blake continued, "we'll orchestrate events that make their current situation untenable." He looked back at Kevin's image on the tablet screen—a man driven by intellect but perhaps blinded by idealism... or was he really?

"We offer them sanctuary," Blake proclaimed with a sinister edge in his voice. "A place where their work can flourish without bureaucratic red tape... or ethical constraints."

The lieutenant glanced up from his tablet. "And if they refuse?"

Blake's expression darkened further, if that were even possible. "Then we make sure they understand refusal isn't an option." He turned back to face the fire, its flickering light casting long shadows across his face.

"There are ways to persuade, to shift sensibilities" he added quietly, more to himself than to his lieutenant. "Make sure to include a full psychological profile of Mr. Craft in your intel."

With a final nod from Blake, his henchman left the room to set things in motion. Alone again in his study, Blake allowed himself a moment of introspection. This technology was more than just another acquisition—it was a key to unlocking powers beyond mere financial dominance.

As he stared into the flames, visions of a world reshaped by his hand danced in their depths.