The Porcelain Tiger
It seemingly started out a normal day outside of the halls of power.
The grand, historical city of Washington D.C., capitol of the United States of America, sparkled like a jewel as the summer sun rose onto it. All over the city, signs of its greatness, and its richness, shimmered in the light. From the Washington Monument, down into the Reflection Pool, onto the black marble of the Vietnam Memorial, and into the cavernous shadows of the Lincoln Memorial, sun began to creep into every nook and cranny of the country's most revered monuments and buildings.
There was more to do than to just visit monuments. The Potomac River was already filled with early swimmers. The line to each section of the Smithsonian Institution in regards to its newest exhibits was already starting to form. The Japanese cherry blossom trees in the front of the Capitol still held on to its pink splendor, even as summer settled in, with the air becoming humid and hot, and the sound of buzzing bees descending upon those who walked the great Concourse.
Of course, inside the halls of power where America's fate always hung upon the words of several aged men, there were other matters to attend to that were not by any means recreational.
"Mr. President, we must speak with you."
The windows of the Oval Office were suddenly shuttered as two pale-skinned men - both in the late stages of middle age - turned towards the walnut desk. The blue chair was turned towards the door, its seated occupant, the most powerful man in the world, sat with his head in his hands and his elbows on the table.
"We apologize for bringing you out of your vacation on such short notice, particularly since Congress is not in session for the next two weeks." One of the men, tall, slightly built, yet old and bespeckled, produced a manila envelope. "But we felt it urgent for you to be notified of our new situation."
"Mr. Secretary…" The seated man rubbed his eyes as he spoke in a Southern drawl. "I understand the situation in Iraq has gotten worse. Our boys are dying. If it's about that, I think it can wait a few hours because I know already."
"On the contrary…" The man looked at his partner. "We believe we have found a solution to the problem in Iraq."
"A solution?"
The man picked up the envelope with a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. Slowly, he opened it. Several papers, and a picture, fell out as he did this. His eyebrows rising quizzically, he picked up several of the papers, scanning them over.
"ИСПЫТАНИЕ 46351. В отношении Тигра Фарфора, мы надеемся сотрудничать в этом усилии в надеждах относительно дестабилизации Советского Союза и помогать этому в его крахе....."
"I don't enjoy jokes, Don. You know this." The president rubbed his eyes. "Mr. Secretary, why am I being made to read Klingon?"
"….Mr. President…." The other man, shorter and fatter than his companion, looked at the president almost amusingly. "Its not Klingon."
"Very well. Why am I being made to read this gibberish?"
"This 'gibberish' is Russian." The president stopped at the secretary's words. "Russian intelligence from over twenty years ago. Several men who were double agents - secretly defected to us, but made themselves look like they still worked for the Kremlin - gave us the idea to assassinate Premier Leonid Brezhnev in his final days of office back in the fall of 1982. So we began work to get rid of him so that the USSR could collapse within itself; there was no reason to believe that the USSR was not on the brink of collapse back then, as it was in 1991."
"…What?!?"
"Is something the matter?"
"I thought…." The president looked at the two men in surprise. "I thought we had a ban on state sponsored assassinations back then! I repealed it, remember?"
"…Oh…..well….." The men looked at each other and shrugged. "Just consider it plausible, or even full, deniability. This discussion is not to leave the room anyways, so no one ever has to know that we knew that we were ever trying to kill anyone."
"….Riiight…."
"Anyways," The shorter man, Vice President Dick Cheney, continued. "The men decided upon a unique solution to the problem; with the help of these men, NIMH and members of the team that eventually broke the human genome, the CIA created a genetically engineered soldier……from a Siberian tiger cub. It being one of the rarest species in the world, they figured that the Communist Party would not consider a special, rare animal such as that a government-trained killer."
"So for two years," the secretary, who happened to be the Secretary of Defense, continued. "the cub was subjected to various research experiments and genetic changes. His DNA, his brain patterns, his physical attributes, everything was taken into consideration and modified….perfected. Soon, we found we had the perfect killer."
"Codenamed Porcelain Tiger, it had all of the physical attributes of his tiger brethren, only stronger. However, it was also gifted with almost perfect bipedal movement, and it could speak as a human could. It was versed in at least six languages; it could sniper shoot from five hundred feet without the help of any lens modifications, with a margin of error of less than 0.0000000000000000000000472%."
"This sounds like a science fiction movie, gentlemen-"
"And that is not the best part, Mr. President." The Secretary of Defense held up the photo. "Not only that, but Porcelain Tiger had a very masterful trick up it's sleeve. It was a master of disguise that portrayed a unique illusion of its own reality; anyone who did not know of his mission, or of its purpose, would not see Porcelain Tiger as it really was. They would see a harmless stuffed tiger doll."
"….Let me guess…." The president gave a crooked smile. "It cost six million dollars?"
"…Not quite, Mr. President." The two men shook their heads. "The rates have gone up."
"Well," The president twiddled his thumbs. "How would this help us?"
"Quite simple, Mr. President." The Secretary of Defense crossed his arms. "Our original plan with the Porcelain Tiger was to hand it to the child of a Russian Communist Party leader, and have it do its job in disguise. If we unleash Porcelain Tiger onto Iraq the same way, it would be able to pursue and capture the renegade Baath Party leaders. Those who refused to surrender would be terminated. It could save many lives in the long run, Mr. President."
The president stroked his chin thoughtfully. For several moments, there was no talking in the darkened Oval Office, and silence save for the president's fingers tapping on his desk.
"….Very well!" The president snapped his fingers. "Activate Porcelain Tiger immediately!"
"…That's a problem, sir."
"……What do you mean, 'a problem'?"
"….It escaped, sir."
"I beg your pardon?"
"It escaped over fifteen years ago, Mr. President."
"WHAT?" The president jumped up in reproachful surprise, his voice squeaking. "Escaped?!"
"I'm afraid so." The Vice President began to pace. "You see, it had been endowed with a strong sense of paranoia, and it may have gotten the best of Porcelain Tiger. It broke out of a high-level laboratory, destroyed the security they put after it, managed to take out all of the tracking bugs we had on it, and…..simply vanished. The CIA hasn't been able to find him for over fifteen years."
"If this thing is gone, then what's the point of bringing this up?"
"We believed we have found him." Another photo was laid upon the president's desk. The president's eyes widened. "We have found him, and we will bring him back into our fold….."
