Identity Protocol

Jessica sat at the worn wooden table, the air inside the safehouse thick with dust and quiet tension. The laptop screen cast a pale glow, flickering against Olivia’s face as she scrolled through the decrypted files.

No one spoke.

The list of names stretched down the screen, some crossed out, others marked with either the dates of disappearance or of death. Jessica’s name was on it.

Leanna exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Jessica didn’t look away from the screen. “No. I shouldn’t.”

Olivia leaned forward, her voice tight. “This isn’t just a kill list. Some of these people are still alive. Some of them are…” she hesitated, scrolling further, “…in office.”

Leanna’s eyes flicked toward her. “Politicians?”

Olivia nodded grimly. “Senators. Judges. Ambassadors.” She exhaled. “A few CEOs.”

Jessica’s fingers drummed lightly against the table. “And Vanguard wasn’t running this?”

Olivia shook her head. “No. They were just a part of it. A piece on the board.” She tapped the screen. “This goes back further.”

Jessica glanced at the date at the top of the file. 1953.

She exhaled. “MKUltra.”

Olivia nodded. “And the programs that came after it. Operation Artichoke. Project Bluebird. Behavioral conditioning, deep programming, identity erasure.” She met Jessica’s eyes. “They were testing methods for decades. And they never stopped.”

Jessica sat back, the weight settling into her chest. She had spent so long hunting Vanguard, convinced that if she burned it to the ground, she would be free.

But this wasn’t about Vanguard. This was the war that never ended.

* * *

Leanna folded her arms. “So where does Dominion fit into this?”

Olivia scrolled further. “It’s the next phase. They’re not just experimenting on people anymore. They’re implementing.”

Jessica’s voice was steady. “How?”

Olivia hesitated, then tapped a file. A video feed opened, a surveillance recording, grainy, black and white. A man sat in a sterile-looking office, hands folded.

Jessica’s breath caught. It was the President of the United States. The timestamp read three years ago.

Leanna leaned in. “What the hell is this?”

The President sat motionless, expression vacant. A clinical fluorescent glare sharpened the hollowness in his eyes.

"Please state your name."

He hesitated briefly, lips parting, eyes unfocused as if listening to something inaudible. "I am Thomas Caldwell."

"And who were you before?"

His brow knitted deeply, confusion giving way slowly to resignation. "I don't remember," he finally murmured, as if surrendering something vital.

The screen flickered. The video ended.

Jessica’s pulse ticked slow and steady. “They didn’t replace him.” Her voice was quiet, sharp. “They rewrote him.”

Olivia exhaled. “They can rewrite anyone.”

Jessica felt something cold settle in her chest. It wasn't fear, exactly. It was more like recognition, as though she'd always known. She had spent years fighting to understand who she was. Fighting against the idea that she was something synthetic, something manufactured. But if Dominion could do this, if they could erase identities, rewrite minds, then what did that make her? What if she wasn’t an anomaly? What if she was exactly what they intended her to be?

* * *

Jessica’s phone rang. All three of them stiffened. Olivia shut the laptop. Leanna reached for her gun.

Jessica answered. “Yeah.”

A voice she didn’t recognize. Low. Calm. Trained.

"We know what you have."

Jessica exhaled through her nose. “Do you?”

"You should return it."

Jessica glanced at Leanna and Olivia. “I think we’ll pass.”

A brief silence. Then, the voice again, measured, patient. "You don’t understand the game you’re playing, Miss Sanchez."

Jessica’s grip tightened. “No. I think I finally do.”

The voice paused, almost thoughtful. "You think you're exposing the truth. You're not. You're merely finishing your programming."

Jessica's grip tightened. "I don't follow scripts anymore."

Another pause, colder now. "You always did." The line disconnected sharply.

Leanna grabbed her jacket. “We need to move.”

Jessica nodded. But even as she stood, even as they packed their things, she knew there was no running from this. Because the war had never ended. And now they were in the middle of it.