Preventing Apotheosis

The Briefing

Curt finally felt alive for the first time in four years. After getting back in the field, he swore he would never let himself slump so far into a depression like that ever again, even if he had to see Owen die before his eyes for a second time. Especially since the Owen he shot wasn't the Owen he had once known. No, his Owen was a lighthearted suave spy who always got the job done. He was sarcastic, funny, brilliant, there weren't enough words to describe how great he was. But the Owen he had faced wasn't that same man, not anymore at least. The Owen he knew had died when he fell off those stairs all those years ago. His eyes were cold and harsh and held none of the lively warmth they once did, and he was a complete sadist. He was going to torture him until he died, and he wore a sadistic grin the whole time. Not to mention the countless number of people he had killed. God, he had slaughtered so many young girls... Curt had no choice when he pulled the trigger. 

He felt his work phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, looking at the screen. One new text from Cynthia that read, "Get your ass to my office now." He knew she probably wasn't mad at him, that's just the way she talks. Plus if she was angry, she would've used way more curse words. So he didn't feel too nervous when he walked into her office. 

"Sit." He did as he was told, much like an obedient dog. "I have a new mission for you. Just came in this morning, and we still don't have a lot of information, but that's where you come in. Late last night a large meteor fell in the town of Hatchetfield, Michigan and there've been a few reports of some of the residents breaking out into singing and dancing. Apparently this isn't the first time something like this has happened, so you're gonna be teaming up with someone who's dealt with this before." She handed him a file to flip through as she continued talking, "His name is General John McNamera and he works in a special division of the military known as P.E.I.P. Basically what they do is they go to these meteor crash sites and stop whatever the fuck is going on from spreading, and make sure no one else hears about it." She leaned back in her chair to prop her feet up on the table and took a drag from her cigarette. "I want you to get some samples from that damn space rock so Barb can run some tests on it. And anything else that seems like weird alien shit or whatever."

Curt blinked a couple of times, "Excuse me, did you say aliens?" He fought off his laughter because he knew from experience that laughing during a briefing would end in an ass kicking. She narrowed her eyes and took another puff, blowing the smoke in his face, "Or whatever. We still don't know yet, but based on the other events that have happened, it seems like it might be the case. Now I've been to Area 51 and I know that there's different kinds of these space bastards, so I need you to help me figure out what the fuck we're dealing with."

"Wait you've been to Area 51?"

"Yes."

"So aliens are... real?"

"Jesus Curt you're supposed to be smart! Do you honestly believe that we're the only planet with intelligent lifeforms? Give me a fucking break," she rolled her eyes, bringing the cigarette up to her lips and inhaling deeply, "Honestly I thought your clearance level would've meant you were informed about the existence of extra terrestrials, but clearly I was wrong. Although I'm sure your little "early retirement" brought that to a screeching halt, so no wonder you're out of the loop," she couldn't help but chuckle to herself. Curt looked down at his lap, feeling embarrassed. Cynthia noticed and stopped laughing and gave him a gentle smile, "But to answer your question, yes aliens are real. You're gonna need to fly out as soon as you stop by and get the necessary gear from Barb and not a second later. If you can't manage to get a sample from the meteor, get some air samples and if you can, try to get DNA from the affected citizens. General McNamera will meet you at the Clivesdale airport and you'll take a boat to Hatchetfield since the bridge will probably be closed and going by water will be your best bet. " 

"Alright, and you said that people were... singing and dancing? What, like a musical?" 

"If we knew we wouldn't be sending you, that's kinda the point of this mission."

"Sorry, I'm just trying to understand this."

"We all are Curt, so get the hell out of my office and head down to the lab, Barb's waiting." Curt followed her orders and headed straight for the lab, smiling widely when he saw Barb.

"There's my favorite little scientist! What cool stuff do you have for me?"

Barb looked up at him dreamily before shaking herself out of her love induced state, "So I have some foldable collection tubes that fit in your pocket, a taser phone, a couple of poison dart rings, a pen that's actually an extendable grabbing arm for gathering samples without having to touch them, cufflinks that turn into a shield, a keychain that shoots acid, a few extra guns because you can never have too many guns, especially in our line of work, and I made a special gas mask bowtie just for you 'cause I heard the air might me toxic!" She finished her rambling and shoved a duffle bag into Curt's hands. 

He ruffled through, examining some of the gadgets, "Wow, thanks Barb! You never cease to amaze me," he said. She practically swooned, but he was too busy to notice. Even if he had she doubted that he would've done anything other than pat her shoulder at the most. He looked back at her then at his watch, "Well, if that's all then I better get going. Cynthia said I had to leave as soon as I got my things."

"Oh! W-well be careful!" 

"I'm always careful, how do you think I got to be the world's greatest spy?" She just shook her head as she watched him leave. Curt Mega sure was something else.

He went to the hanger where the jets were kept and after checking that it was ready for flight, he climbed into the cockpit and took off down the runway. He had the coordinates set and followed the path until he reached his destination.