Veil of Protection 12.1

Chapter 12: A Glitch in the System: Part 1

Victor Crane twitched in his seat, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against his thigh as a bead of sweat traced a slow path down his temple. On either side of him, he could feel the weight of their stares - Agent Munroe drilling into him with sharp disapproval, Director Wallace radiating a colder, heavier kind of judgment. He kept his gaze locked on the table, knowing the moment he spoke would be the point of no return.

“There was… a minor hiccup,” he admitted, the words tasting sour as they left his mouth. “But I’ve nearly resolved the issue.”

“A minor hiccup?” Munroe snapped, her tone sharp. “You got locked out of your own system, Victor. That’s not a hiccup - that’s gross negligence. And with lives on the line, instead of reporting it, you tried to cover it up!”

Victor inhaled slowly, hands clenched in his lap. “All I can do is apologise,” he said, eyes fixed on the table. “I was… ashamed. I thought I could fix the problem before bringing it to you.”

Munroe opened her mouth again, but Wallace silenced her with a raised hand. “This is deeply disappointing, Victor,” she said, calm but stern. “There will be consequences. But first, show us the witnesses - current status and visuals. I want a full update.”

"Yes, Director,” Victor gulped, picking up his tablet. With trembling fingers, he tapped at the screen until the large monitor on the wall flickered to life, drawing a sharp gasp from Agent Munroe.

Onscreen appeared a striking Latina with a curvaceous figure and long, wavy auburn hair cascading down to her waist. She wore a cropped, low-cut purple top that highlighted her narrow waist and deep, eye-catching cleavage. A short, pleated green skirt sat high on her thighs, revealing long, flawless legs balanced atop towering purple pumps with heels that defied logic. Every detail screamed woman - and a beautiful one at that - from her purple nails, long, glossy and manicured to perfection, to her face, a masterclass in cosmetic enhancement. Perfectly microbladed brows arched above dramatic, made-up eyes fringed with fluttering lashes. Her button nose sat neatly above a pouty pair of lips - now filled far beyond their original size. And yet, beneath all that glamour, there was a flicker of sadness behind her eyes.

(See image 37)

“Larry Stone is now Luisa Diamante, a former dancer from Cartagena,” Victor began, pausing for a moment before continuing. “To keep him safe, NINA concluded that the most effective approach was to reshape him into someone entirely unrecognisable - the polar opposite of what those hunting him would ever expect to find.”

Director Wallace remained silent, her eyes fixed on the image displayed on the screen. The transformation was beyond anything she had anticipated. Her expression betrayed little, but the pause was heavy with thought. When she finally spoke, her voice was measured but firm.

“This is quite the unbelievable transformation, Doctor,” she said. “And while I can understand how a machine might arrive at this conclusion from a purely logical standpoint, I fail to see how this version of Mr Stone is going to be able to take the stand and give his witness statement.”

“There was a conflict in the code,” Victor explained. “Between the directive to keep the witnesses safe and the requirement for them to appear in court. NINA prioritised their safety and dismissed the courtroom appearance as too dangerous. Without that condition in place, she focused entirely on building them new identities - from language and movement, right down to fabricated birth certificates and educational histories.”

Agent Munroe leaned forward, voice sharp. “Can it be reversed?”

Victor hesitated. “In theory, yes,” he said carefully.

Munroe’s voice cut through the room. “I'm not interested in your theories, Victor. Can these men be made to look like themselves again before their court dates? - yes or no?”

Victor’s fingers tightened around the edge of his tablet. “With the knowledge I currently have,” he said, “I’m almost certain the answer is yes. But I need more time to confirm it definitively.”

Munroe exhaled loudly, her frustration clear.

“Let's put a pin in this for now,” Director Wallace said, cutting through the tension. “Right now, I want to see the other witnesses. Has Jamal Lewis undergone a similarly... extreme transformation?”

“Unfortunately so,” Victor sighed, tapping away once more. “You might even argue it’s more extreme.”

The image on the large screen changed, prompting another gasp from Agent Munroe.

Gone was the tall, lanky Black man who had once soared over bars as an Olympic high jumper. In his place stood a petite, pale-skinned Asian woman. She couldn't have been much over five feet tall - though the towering red leather platform knee-high boots she wore, with their lofty eight-inch heels, helped disguise that.

The boots rose over slim legs sheathed in sheer black nylon, showing no trace of the powerful muscle tone that used to define them. A skintight black leather miniskirt clung to her softly curved hips, leading up to a frilly red top held in place by two delicate shoulder straps.

Her face was unrecognisable from what it had once been - plump lips gleamed with glossy red lipstick, and her almond-shaped eyes were rimmed with dark liner and framed by thick, curled lashes. Perfectly arched brows crowned the look, and her silky black hair had been styled into two playful, high pigtails, completing a picture that was anything but masculine.

(See image 38)

“Jamal Lewis is now Jia Lin Liu - or Jaclyn Liu, in English,” Victor stated, keeping his tone measured. “An overseas student from Shanghai who chose to stay on after graduation. Fluent in Mandarin, they have been equipped with everything he needs to thrive in their new life.”

Director Wallace didn’t look away from the image. Her eyes, slightly wider than usual, studied every detail. “And what exactly do you mean by ‘equipped to thrive,’ Doctor?”

Victor cleared his throat. “Each witness has been retrained to move, speak, and carry themselves in a way that matches their new identity. In addition, NINA has used subliminal messaging and reinforcement techniques to implant supporting memories into their psyche.”

“Implant?” Agent Munroe cut in, her expression hardening. “Are you telling us these men have been brainwashed into thinking they’re someone else?”

“No, not brainwashed,” Victor replied quickly, shaking his head. “Their original memories are still intact. What NINA did was overlay new ones - fabricated backstories, full of life events consistent with their new identities. It’s a failsafe. If they are ever questioned, they’ll have a lifetime of believable details to fall back on.”

“That’s completely unethical,” Munroe snapped. “We work for the government, Victor. We’re here to protect people, not mess with their minds. You can’t possibly know what kind of long-term damage that could cause.”

“I understand your concern,” Victor said, his voice subdued. “And I agree with you. It was another unfortunate incident of conflicting commands. When tasked with building them new lives while ensuring their safety, NINA took what she calculated to be the most effective - if extreme - solution.”

“And how have they responded to this… programming?” Wallace asked, her tone unreadable.

“From my initial observations, each subject has responded differently. Michael shows the highest level of internalisation - he’s begun to believe in the persona NINA created for him and will need to be monitored closely. Jamal and Larry, on the other hand, appear to be adapting exactly as intended. They’re performing their roles instinctively, but their true personalities remain intact beneath the surface. They haven’t forgotten who they are - and they’re fully aware of what’s happening around them.”

He paused before continuing. “Javier is different. He hasn’t internalised anything. He’s pretending - going through the motions, saying what NINA wants to hear - but none of it has stuck. I believe his training has allowed him to resist the psychological conditioning in a way the others couldn’t.”

Agent Munroe looked ready to launch into another objection, but once again, Director Wallace silenced her with a raised hand. “This is another discussion we'll revisit shortly,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. But first, I want to see the remaining witnesses. And since we’re already discussing Javier Roca, let’s bring him up.”