suspend disbelief - have an adventure

Jake & Chearice: Imposter

“Jake, I’ve got a mission for you,” Tyson, an eight-foot-tall sasquatch wearing a paisley tie and nothing else, said from the entrance of Jake's cubicle.

“Really?” Jake replied. “Usually, you come to me with a problem that leads me into a rabbit hole of death. Saying it’s a mission outright is a little ominous.”

“Alright,” Tyson stretched. “I’ve got a problem I need you to solve. I need you to deliver a dossier package to Alpha-Twenty.”

“Don’t we have couriers for that?”

“It’s a classified package.”

“Don’t we have secure couriers for that?”

“It’s a top secret classified clandestine package,” Tyson lowered his voice to a whisper.

“All right. Doesn’t DIDA Military have a black ops division?”

“Not that I know of,” Tyson replied.

“You mean we steal babies from their parents and turn those kids into killing machines, but we don’t have black ops teams?”

“Okay, you’ve got to let it go, Jake. Yes, you were kidnapped as a baby and genetically and psychologically altered, but that was a quarter century ago. None of the people involved in that experiment are around anymore, and we don’t do things that way.”

“Anymore,” Jake said.


“We don’t do things that way anymore,” Jake repeated. “We used to be dick-heads, but now we are not.”

“Exactly,” Tyson agreed.

“How do we know? Maybe we’re just better at covering our tracks.”

“Let’s rewind,” Tyson suggested. “Here,” he picked up a slim briefcase from the floor, and put it on Jake’s desk. “Take this to Alpha-Twenty. Do not open it. In this package,” Tyson handed Jake an envelope, “is your instructions on who to give the dossier to once you get to Alpha-Twenty.”

“Why me?” Jake took the envelope and briefcase.

“You were requested,” Tyson answered.

“By who?”

“I don’t know. Word came down from above. It’s a simple mission. We have to send a trusted resource, that’s you, to drop off a briefcase. Nothing is going to go wrong. It’s a day’s trip. You’ll be back well in time for your wedding. That’s a month off. You can do one last mission.”

“Fine,” Jake agreed. “If I get wrapped in a web of death, you get to explain it to Chearice.”

“Why are you such a pessimist? Nothing is going to go wrong. Stay in Alpha-Twenty for lunch if you want. It’s two hours out of your life.”

“Whatever,” Jake stood up with the briefcase and letter. “I’ll get this out of the way and then have lunch with my fiancée. If—”

“Agreed,” Tyson interrupted. “If you go into a ‘web of death,’” he made air quotes, “I’ll let Chearice know. She’ll save you and then life will go on as normal.”

“I’ve never had a normal life,” Jake said.

“But at least it’s been interesting. Now, go. Deliver the package.”