Doctored Love Affair

Clad in a pitch-black uniform, the lieutenant stood there, as pale as a ghost. The deepest black Zeirenne could imagine contrasted sharply with his ghastly white complexion, making him look like a handsome vampire lurking in the darkest shadows of an abyss.

Chairman Wang's eyes sparkled. His graying head turned to Zeirenne, face beaming with pride. His expression seemed to say, "Look at this man I found. Isn't he dashing?!" But he went straight to business.

"Lieutenant Evans will accompany you to Gaya. You can't bring a team with you but an escort should be alright." the chairman said, a hint of mischief plastered on his face. "You need to present a husband to the Gayan monarch so they don't crown-princess-trap you again… Viola! Lieutenant Evans can play that role to perfection!"

Zeirenne's face went slack. The chairman had obviously been planning for a while, and this was a setup. But she was not a rabbit easily trapped. 

"Chairman Wang, you must be mistaken. I don't remember agreeing to anything." she smiled. "Please find someone else for the job."

The chairman's dazzling glow immediately reversed. Now he looked like a gaunt old man, the weight of the world on his shoulders. Asserting another bout of pathetic begging, the chairman went on his knees once again. Zeirenne had to close her eyes, suppressing the urge to dash out of that building.

"There really is no one!" he pleaded even more enthusiastically. "If we can't provide solutions to the United Nations, our funds will be cut. The IAC will have to layoff thousands of its members. I, myself, won't get paid for years. What about the animals? Every sanctuary we fund will also suffer tremendously. Please reconsider, A-rin!"

 Zeirenne simply stared. Incredulous at the man begging at her feet. There was another person in the room, and it was not a good picture to witness an old man pleading to a young woman. It was a picture of utter disrespect—but Zeirenne was resolute. Even if William Wang bled his eyes out, she won't succumb to pity. Why would she? There was nothing in it for her. She wasn't born yesterday to feel rewarded by doing charity work.

Reading her thoughts, the chairman's eyes beamed. He pounded his palm with the other hand he cupped. "There is! There is!" He scooted to Zeirenne's side with his knees. "If you do me this favor, I'll make your post on that island permanent! You'll never be reassigned to anywhere else again. You'll get full authority over that island! Whatever it is you may need, the ICA will fund it!"

Full authority and funds?

Hmm.

Zeirenne considered the idea. Gaining full authority over a protected island is equivalent to a president's authority to his country. It controls everything that happens within the area. If she declared planes are no longer allowed to fly over the island, the international route for aviation will have to be rerouted. If she decreeds that the island shall be closed from the rest of the world for ten years, humans will not be permitted to step foot within its area. She can have ten years of peace alone on that paradise. 

Plus, the institute will fund whatever bullshit she asks them to. If she wanted to install a zip-line, only as an example—she really, really, had no need for a zip-line, just for reference—the institute would shoulder everything. Though, this mission was a personal request from the chairman himself, every penny will more or less come from his own pocket. 

Who cares? This man was loaded.

Without responding, Zeirenne rose to her feet, leading the chairman to believe the negotiation had fallen through. She approached the ghostly man and extended a hand, her face expressionless. "Lieutenant…"

"Evans. Stephen Evans." The man took her hand, a schooled expression—guarding his thoughts—presiding on his face. "Call me however you'd like, Miss Lynn."

It took long for the chairman to realize what was happening. As the two beautiful creatures shook hands, he jostled up to his feet, almost leaping up into the air out of glee. The IAC will be saved!

Time was trite so they spared no second. Right after getting Zeirenne to agree, the chairman pulled out his preparations. By lunch time, the three of them had some sandwiches, lounging on the couch to talk business. 

"Lieutenant Evans here is an elite member of the Grey Hounds Secret Services." the chairman introduced, handing Zeirenne another plate of bread. "I specifically requested for him… for various reasons."

Zeirenne fought the urge to roll her eyes. She had no business knowing the chairman's reasoning. But the involvement of the Grey Hounds Secret Services made her wonder how much danger this mission entails. This unit of elite officers majors in espionage. Most of their identities are to remain hidden, and they rarely step out into the light. For the United Nations to offer a high ranking man to join Zeirenne on her mission, she wouldn't be surprised if he had his own agenda in Gaya.

No wonder his emotions are so well guarded. Zeirenne thought to herself. 

The chairman laid out several stacks of paper on the table, nudging the stack of sandwiches to the side. 

Zeirenne reached out, skimming at its contents. Every page detailed the lieutenant's thorough biography. From his birthdate, to his blood-type, even to the last of his kin- everything had been provided. 

"I have to keep all these in mind?" she asked, having her last bite and wiping the crumbs off her hands. 

"Well, yes." the chairman replied. "I didn't wanna impose such mind-grueling tasks on you. But even a minor slip up can—you know," his shoulders jerked up like a scared cat. "T-trap you in that country."

Zeirenne gritted her teeth, forcing a dull smile out of her lips. "I wonder who put me into this situation."

The chairman could only close his eyes, hands together, begging for both forgiveness and mercy. "I really owe you this one time, A-rin, ah."

Zeirenne stared at the Lieutenant Evans. Her gaze lingering longer than what was deemed appropriate within norms. 

The man's physique made for a good escort. Strong, sturdy arms, long nimble legs—someone reliable in case Zeirenne decided to make a run for it. His looks, also made for a good escort. Thin pointed nose, bright almond-shaped eyes bearing repressed emotions, and skin as smooth as a woman's. Zeirenne wondered if the guy was wearing a hyperrealistic face mask. He was too flawless to be real.

"Is there anything on my face, Miss Lynn?" the man asked, his long lashes fanning the steam rising from his cup.

"Are you wearing a mask?"

"This is my real face," he replied with a honeyed voice. "Is it to Miss Lynn's liking?"

Zeirenne appraised the man. "I guess it's alright."

For only a quarter of a second, amusement hinted at the lieutenant's eyes. The man, used to being the prettiest in the room, was appalled to hear a prettier existence consider his looks "alright".

Zeirenne was about to dive into the man's biography but Chairman Wang handed her a notebook. "What's this for?" she asked.

Chairman Wang nudged closer, cupping a hand to whisper in her ears. "I was afraid you'd want to keep your life private. You can write whatever you want, Evans will have it memorized right away. But you should memorize it too."

Zeirenne stared at the blank paper. "It's fine. Show him whatever you want. There's nothing in my life that's worth keeping a secret."

The chairman stared at her, incredulous. He wanted to disagree but simply sighed before providing another thick stack of paper for the Lieutenant's perusing. Then, he took out four bulky albums. Zeirenne recognized two from their covers. They were her albums from childhood. Assuming the other two albums belonged to the lieutenant, she wondered how thorough they had to be.

It only took her half an hour to memorize the thick stack. She was confident she'd be able to track the man's great-great-great granparents if they were still alive. So she reached out for the albums and surveyed the photos. Momentarily, she would pin her eyes back to the man in front. 

"It's his real face afterall," she murmured to herself, seeing that the photos looked exactly like the younger version of the lieutenant.

Unless these photos were doctored to perfection. The Grey Hounds Secret Services would really really earn her respect if that were the case.