When Agent Oliver West was a child, he knew exactly what he wanted to do when he grew up: interrogate prisoners. Granted, his goal wasn't exactly common, but he was adamant throughout his childhood and teenage years that he wanted to be an FBI agent who specialized in interrogation. He watched detective and crime movies fanatically, idolizing the characters who cross-examined the villainous criminals in rooms lined with two-way mirrors. That career was the only one he ever aspired to.
Oliver West's friends and family were not surprised when he joined the FBI. Soon after he earned his degree in psychology from a respectable college, he went to the FBI training academy to pursue his dream. He learned everything he could about questioning criminals, and he became a decent interrogator. Not exceptional, just decent. Despite this, it was clear that he was happier than just about every agent he met. He wasn't even thirty years old, and he was already living out his dream.
But he couldn't have anticipated where his dream would lead him.
For the first few months after graduating from the FBI training academy, Agent West spent his time shadowing experienced agents, learning all he could from their interrogation know-how. Then, he took on some small cases, questioning lower-end criminals on his own. He was gradually becoming better at his job, and he began to earn the respect of his co-workers. In short, his life was just the way he wanted it to be, and he was very content with the way things were.
After about a year of working for the FBI, Agent West received an important phone call. He was being reassigned to a new location, but he wasn't given any details about what he would be doing when he arrived there. All he was told was that his reassignment was a big step up from his current job and that only a few agents had been ordered to relocate there. It was an honor to receive that kind of reassignment, and Agent West agreed to the move without hesitation. A week later, a company plane flew him to his new assignment in New Jersey. He was given a room in a mediocre hotel when he got there and was told that he was expected to go to work the next day.
This is my big break, Agent West thought. I'm living my dream.
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The next morning, Agent West woke up early. He took his time when he was getting ready to leave.
He walked outside the hotel at 7:00 am, as he was instructed to. Five or six other agents, who all looked at least twenty years older than Agent West and who he did not know, straggled outside, one by one, until a large, black van with blacked-out windows arrived and pulled up to the curb. One of the agents approached the van's massive door, yanked it open, and hopped into the vehicle. The other agents followed him in. After they closed the door, the van drove away.
Agent West was surprised when, after an hour of travelling, the van hadn't arrived at its destination.
"How come it's taking so long to get where we're going?" he asked the driver, who apperared to be in his forties.
While glancing back at Agent West in the rearview mirror, the driver replied, "Cause it's a long ways away, that's why. Sheesh."
"I mean, I thought the hotel was kind of close to where we're headed," Agent West replied warily.
"It's not, kid. The place we're going is in the middle of nowhere."
Agent West paused for a moment, then asked the driver, "Do you have any idea what kind of facility we're going to?"
"Nope. They just gave me an address and a GPS."
Half an hour later, the van came to a stop outside of a large, bland building surrounded by barbed-wire fences. All of the agents filed out of the van silently. A man dressed in a typical military uniform met the agents outside of the van and led them to the building. It took half an hour for the agents to pass through the security checkpoints, and when they did, they were led to a big, sparse room. When they entered the room, another military officer was waiting for them.
"Take a seat, gentlemen," he said, gesturing to a few dingy folding chairs set up in front of him.
The agents were restless from sitting in the van for an hour and a half and tired from waking up early. One of the crankier agents, who appeared to be in his late fifties, spoke up.
"I'm tired of being kept in the dark like this," he said grumpily. "I've never been assigned somewhere with as many secrets as this, and I've been around a while. How do you expect us to do our job when we don't even know what in the world we're doing here?"
"I'll explain everything in just a moment," the officer replied patiently. "Just take a seat."
A few of the agents grumbled in aggravation. Agent West didn't let his frustration show because he didn't want to appear unprofessional, so he made his way to one of the old chairs without saying anything. The other agents sat down as well.
"Agents, welcome to the Petrelli Facility for Atypical Humans."