Chapter 7-The Canadian Connection

oOo

That night Ames felt more hopeful, having learned there was a major resistance network with which he was now working. The goal, however, was still to find a time machine. He added to his list of future problems to bring to the CIA's attention, once he returned: "Extreme voter suppression, fetishization of guns, religious exploitation and hypocrisy". These issues were present in 2022, but had grown worse, if that were possible.

The US was a bust for a time machine, but Canada might have some intel he could use. But assuming they did, they likely wouldn't just hand over what they had. He would have to pull some strings and find something of value to them. He had an idea he'd try in the morning.

According to internet searches regarding this nation's main issues, Canada, or rather the "Canadian Empire" as they were now going by, was heavily involved in a conflict with the "Neo-Soviets" in eastern Free Ukraine. "That's still going on?", Ames thought. "Well, if everyone thinks that the US are bunch of dummies, and we have a reputation for being short-sighted and disinterested in the world, I may have a way in."

Ames tried watching some TV before bed. It was more of the same trash "reality TV" he had seen, with an all-new episode of "Hell's Kitchen: The New Generation". This time, each contestant was inside a small cage, and standing on a grate above a shark tank. The lowest-scoring dish-which according to the main judge was "FUCKING RAW!"-saw that contestant's grate open, and the hapless contestant became the dish. The main judge added, "It was fucking raw, and SO ARE YOU!"

Ames again assumed this was special effects, but had a sinking feeling it wasn't. Shows like this had devolved to where the brutality of the "eliminations" had become the sole selling point. Any original focus on talent had long-since evaporated. The population watching these shows had become so incredibly stupid and short on attention spans that brutality was the only way to entertain them.

Ames also tried watching a football game-or rather, "Extreme Football". He couldn't see a ball or discern any plays. Instead, the players simply kept trying to beat the shit out of each other, while open flame pits, metal bands and fireworks filled the background.

Lastly, before turning in, Ames turned to the news. Something caught his ear: apparently, the mayor of DC, "Marlboro" Jensen, would be speaking at his church that Sunday evening. It was right in town and not far from FBI HQ. The mayor was expected to speak on a number of topics, including progress the FBI had made against terrorism. Ames decided that he would greatly benefit from seeing this speech, if he hadn't found a time machine by that time.

The next morning, Ames got up at 6:00, and put his plan into action. The Neo-Soviet embassy was half an hour away, and he went straight there, walking in at 7:00. He was unexpected, and caught the staff by surprise. American intelligence agents weren't a common sight, and hadn't been for a few hundred years, since matters of foreign intelligence were not their priority. The pizza delivery guy was a more common sight. For the Neo-Soviets' part, they viewed American intelligence agents as ignorant, vapid rubes. They only retained their presence in DC to exploit American businesses. A fairly cushy bureaucratic job.

He introduced himself, and said, "I'm with the FBI, and I have a mutually beneficial proposal. Would Mr... Cherkashinski, be in?" Ames had found this was the chief diplomat, and likely handler of spies working for the Neo-Soviets. But this time, he'd be the one getting information.

"Da, Mr. Cherkashinski is in. You are awfully early, but he is also an early riser. I'll let him know you're here from the FBI. He might be a minute", one of the Neo-Soviet agents said. He turned to the man sitting next to him, "Grubyy Amerikanskiy mudak, on navernoye khochet prodat' neskol'ko starykh istrebiteley."

The second man replied, "Da, i sudya po yego vidu, on skoreye vsego prodast eti samolety, prezhde chem u nego poyavitsya devushka. Moy plemyannik luchshe s zhenshchinoy, chem on! xaxaxa!"

Ames knew exactly what they were saying, which revealed their low regard for American visitors. He didn't react, and decided to wait until Cherkashinski arrived to show them up. He looked around, and saw the Neo-Soviet flag painted on the wall. It was the old Soviet flag, with a middle finger depicted in the middle. Apparently, certain politicians wanted to send a message, at the expense of class. Typical of Neo-Soviet attitude.

Cherkashinski came down to the lobby, seeing Ames and walking up to him. What useless junk or information would he want to sell?

Ames stood up, went to Cherkashinski, and described his proposal, effortlessly in Russian and causing chagrin to the other two Neo-Soviets:

"Greetings, I am from the American intelligence agency, the FBI. As you know, we emphasize corporate profits and we still manufacture military equipment as well as ammunition. We understand you have been fighting a war against the so-called 'Free Ukraine', which is a socialist nation. We would be happy to sell you almost any type of equipment, materials, ammunition or fuel for your war effort there, or lend it out on credit. All I need to know is how many troops you have in Ukraine and where they are. We will base our prices on how seriously you take this fight and how well you are pursuing it. If we can verify what you have to say, then we can make a deal."

Cherkashinski was impressed and surprised. The other agents decided they should probably not speak so freely in front of foreign intelligence agents. "Well then, I am surprised that anyone in your agency still speaks our language. We haven't done direct business in many years", he said in English. "That is... quite a proposal. It may involve matters of Neo-Soviet security."

"I understand it, though we have no intention to get involved in foreign wars where socialism is involved." Ames played along.

Cherkashinski responded, "I'll make a call. Some of your American equipment is outdated as you may know, but getting it cheap may be a good deal. If it's approved." Cherkashinski didn't plan on "calling" anyone. He simply did some math on how good of a deal he could make, and get a bonus for himself while he was at it.

Ames waited in the lobby for almost an hour. Finally, Cherkashinski came back down. The Neo-Soviets were still cautious with this information, though also knew that American military assets were not a threat whatsoever. They also doubted the Americans were capable of anything more nefarious than a bad Yelp review. Further, even if American equipment was badly outdated, the fuel would be useful. "Alright, I have some thumb drives for you; one has a map of 'Free Ukraine' with our current deployment information. The other, our plans over the next week. You will see just how serious we take this war. If you Americans will loan us the fuel and some bullets, we will take care of the socialist threat."

One of the other agents spoke up. "Are you sure we should be handing this over? It can be dangerous-"

"I'm sure you can shut the fuck up. Now, Mr. Ames, I'm sure that once you verify, we can be hearing back." Just like in the US, some trends in Russia, or the Neo-Soviets, also never changed. The person in charge only needed loyalty from those underneath him. If his decision-making was questioned, the complaining party might have a "tragic accident" and fall out of a high-rise window.

Ames nodded, and left the embassy for the FBI HQ. But he wouldn't be "verifying" anything. He greeted the director just before he walked into the briefing room, and continued his plan. "Hello sir, I was thinking of a conversation we were having awhile ago, on Friday. About Canada?"

"Yes I remember. What about them? You have a plan for them?", the director said, smiling slightly. Ames had done well so far, maybe he was on to something?

"Yes, I've been thinking of expanding our horizons, and it would be a great chance if I went there and spoke with their intelligence people about advancing our interests. It's worth a shot since we completed some major assignments recently, and the Democrat terrorists are in hiding apparently."

"Well if you think won't be a waste of time, I'll allow it. This will be on your time though; no FBI plane can enter Canada. They're real picky about who they let in, with vaccine requirements and all... are you vaccinated?" The other agents arrived and the director greeted them: "Hey fellas. Ames and I are having a chat. We'll join you shortly." They filtered into the briefing room.

Ames then responded when out of earshot of the others. "Well that won't be a problem. When I was younger, my parents made me get vaccinated. I fortunately didn't have any ill side effects, but they can surely verify that on their end. I guess that is a benefit to me now."

"Really?", the director asked. He didn't know this; all he knew was the generations-long fear-mongering. "Did you have any heart issues, or seizures?"

"No, I guess I was one of the lucky ones."

The director accepted this. "I guess that worked out well for you. I've heard lots of horror stories. By the way, that prisoner, O'Rourke? He's also here. When did you want him?"

The time machine was still the priority. "I'm thinking he can stew in his jail cell while I'm on... 'special assignment'. I want him to think about what's coming. Just do me a favor-the guys watching him, can you tell them not to bruise or rough him up? That's my job. I don't want him too bashed up to get any intel."

"Very well. When are you thinking?"

"Saturday, I'll be back." Ames wanted to give himself at least a few days. "I might just skip the briefing since I already have a plan. I'll just run to my office to get a plane ticket, for Ottawa." This was the capital of Canada, or the "Canadian Empire", and location of their CIA counterpart, the Canadian Security Intelligence Service, or CSIS.

Ames was heading off when the director asked, almost off-handedly, "Sounds fun, have a passport?"

Ames remembered he did have one, technically, though its design was a bit outdated. "Uh yeah, I sure do." He thought of possible issues he would run into. Maybe his FBI badge would suffice? He would figure something out. Surely, his mission wouldn't end now.

He first called up the CSIS and explained he wanted to visit one of their representatives by that afternoon. He stated he was FBI and provided his name and position, so that they could verify who he was. He added, "I-we also understand that your nation has been involved with some conflicts overseas. I have some information that you could benefit from, of a highly classified nature. There are also matters of US intel I'd like to discuss." He was hoping this promise would expedite an appointment. He didn't want to specifically mention Free Ukraine, in case someone sympathetic to the Neo-Soviets was listening in.

"Ok then, just provide your credentials when you arrive at our agency and we can take a look at what you have", the receptionist said.

"Much thanks, I'm looking forward to doing business with you." Ames then purchased a ticket for Ottawa, and called up Lazarus, meeting him outside the FBI HQ.

"Hey, there's the spy man again! How's it hanging?"

"I'm great... hey, I just need to go to Dulles Airport. I'm heading off to Canada for awhile. Agency stuff."

"Ok... doesn't the agency usually take you to the airport?" Lazarus certainly didn't mind, though this was a bit unusual.

"Yes, but this is top-secret. The agency isn't officially involved."

"Oh yeah, gotcha! So I guess I'm also undercover?"

"Yeah sure. Let's just get moving."

The pair went off for the airport, Ames with his FBI ID, some money, the thumb drives, and his old passport. He decided to make some small-talk during the trip. "So uh, what kind of hobbies do you have?"

"Like, when I'm not working?"

"Yeah, I guess for fun or creative expression."

Lazarus thought for awhile. "Uh, I like to write stories that take place inside of a movie or a TV show, but they're not, like, officially part of that thing?"

"You mean 'fan fiction'?"

"Sure, I guess. Is that it?"

"Yeah. So what have you written?"

The two discussed one of Lazarus' works on the way to the airport. He was apparently proud of it, though it was quite coarse. Lazarus described one scene: "So anyway, Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus are totally lezzing it out, like, totally buried in some muff. Sailor Neptune then says 'I'm going to utilize you like a wild animal!', and Sailor Uranus says, 'Oh yeah, take me!'"

While Ames was taken aback, he wasn't exactly surprised. Sure, there were probably rules on whatever website Lazarus was posting on, disallowing such material. However, it was almost surely more common than one would think.

They arrived at the airport. Ames said his goodbyes, entered the airport, and boarded his plane. Because of his credentials, he was able to bypass security. The plane, a rickety 747 still flying only due to the availability of spare parts and the prayers of those onboard, left for Ottawa. Airline maintenance used to be taken more seriously, though this came with costly and "socialist" regulations. The government cut these in order to maximize profits, which helped jobs... somehow.

The flight was just under two hours. Ames was in first-class, though the cracks in the wall paneling and funny smells coming from the ventilation-did someone burn toast?-detracted from the experience.

Eventually, a voice came over the intercom:

Bing Bong: "Hello, we will be on the ground in 15 minutes. We will be landing at Justin Trudeau International Airport in Ottawa, capital of the Canadian Empire. Eustice Mochrie III, Emperor. Please have passports ready for local customs, or proceed to connecting flight to wherever your final destination is. Thank you for flying Tarrylton Airlines."

The plane groaned as it reached the ground, sounding like a dying man. It hit the runway, bringing Ames to a jolt. "At least I didn't come all this way just to die here", Ames thought. He entered the airport, surprised at how nonchalant everyone else appeared to be. He appreciated finally seeing something familiar-the Canadian flag still appeared the same.

He approached customs. "Hello gentlemen. I'm from the United States, on business. I'm with the FBI, though the FBI itself isn't involved. I have ID, the CSIS is also expecting me." Ames felt awkward; this trip was on his own volition-though technically, it was still part of his broader CIA mission.

"Expecting you eh? Ok, let's have a look. Can you hand over your FBI badge and passport? We can make a call."

"Oh yeah... the passport may have a typo on it, but here's my badge." Ames waited somewhat nervously while they looked over the documents.

"Sorry eh, this passport looks like an issue. It's a bit outdated. Quite a typo..." He turned to the other customs officer. "Do US passports even look like this?"

"Uh, I can assure you that there is no problem. I apologize for that. My badge though is legitimate. I suppose if you need, you can run a check on it." Ames was cursing himself internally. "Why why WHY didn't I think to get a modern passport before coming? It couldn't have been too hard. Now this guy is probably going to hold me in a cell for who knows how long-"

Ames' thoughts were interrupted. "You also said the CSIS is expecting you? But you're not here on official business?"

"Yeah, that's right. I called them and told them I had some intel that they would like. International stuff, and US intel matters."

"I might have to make two calls. Sorry but we deal with a ton of mules and forgers. Also, we'll need to verify if you're vaccinated. People try to come here from the US all the time, saying they don't need to vaccinated for religious reasons, or they try showing us a forged vaccination card." He turned back to the other officer. "Gary, can you take this man to the customs room for a moment. I'll be back shortly."

Ames and Gary went to the holding room. "So what kind of intel?", the officer asked, "Assuming you won't have to kill me if you told me", he cheekily added.

Ames responded, "It has to do with your involvement with Free Ukraine. But it's top-level. It's critical I get through and speak to someone." Ames probably shouldn't have even said this before reaching the CSIS, but he was increasingly nervous he would be turned back, and had to provide a justification for getting through.

"Why would you want to help us with that? The US isn't really involved."

"There are a number of reasons, but if we push the Neo-Soviets back, we can benefit economically. I also would like to help stop their oppression." Ames didn't want to mention his real motive-a time machine-because he would come across as crazy to those who didn't know about it. Even in Canada, a time machine may only be known to a handful within the CSIS, assuming it even existed. So, he defaulted to economic or "freedom" motives.

"I didn't think your motive would be purely charity. You're referring to better trade deals?"

"Sure, I guess. They're still our rival."

"The US hasn't really been involved in international matters for hundreds of years. It just seems odd, so I wanted to ask."

"It hasn't? What do you mean?" This seemed odd to Ames.

"You don't know? The US hasn't had military bases overseas for over two hundred years. As far as trade deals, the US trades a little with China, but that's it, except for minor exceptions. If you're FBI I think you would know that."

Ames was further surprised at this. What happened in those two hundred years to cause this decline? Unbeknownst to him in this time, many nations cut off the US as a trade partner due to poor quality of products, and moral objections to how the US treated its own people. China had no such qualms, but other nations-the UK, France and Japan to name a few-had turned to Canada as a primary trade partner. Japan, for its part, had regained independence from China after Canadian involvement, providing weapons and training. It was the same with a now-unified Korea.

"Uh, well, I would like to see the US become great again. And the first step in that is to restore our trading ability. So we have got to stop nations like the Neo-Soviets from simply doing whatever they want. If it also helps you, that's also awesome."

Gary was satisfied for the moment, even if such a motive came out of the blue. The first officer entered after a few minutes. "Ok, I called the CSIS. They said they were expecting someone from the FBI. I also called the FBI, and got the director on the phone. Mr. Bannon. He said you did come here, on your own."

Ames was relieved that he could prove who he was, and why he was there.

The officer continued, "He also sent us over a photo, and your position. 'Director of Domestic Terrorism'. Pretty big fish to find here."

Ames smiled, "Yes, I apologize again over the passport kerfuffle. But I'll worry about that later."

"You must be here for something important, to come here for a 'mission' by yourself. The director of course didn't say anything."

Gary filled him in. "He said it's intel about Free Ukraine. He thinks it can help us push the Neo-Soviets back."

"I guess you'd better be on your way then. We'll just have to check your vaccination status."

Ames didn't have a vaccination record to rely on, so the officers gave him a finger-prick test, like a diabetic would take, in order to examine his antibodies. It came back acceptable.

"Ok then, no quarantine for you. Your 'passport' is still apparently false; you lose that. Welcome to Canada."

Ames finally left the airport, calling for a taxi to the CSIS building, which was 20 minutes away. During the drive, Ames immediately noticed how different Ottawa looked-and felt-from DC. The roads were obviously well-maintained. The vehicles didn't belch out smoke. The buildings looked more modern and in good repair.

Ames remarked to the driver: "This place is alot different than DC. It looks awesome here. I wish it were that way back home."

The driver answered, "Yes, we invest alot more in public works than back in your country. More of what you call 'socialism', but it works."

Ames was glad at least this part of the world was sane. They arrived at CSIS, and Ames entered. He greeted the receptionist. "Hello, they're expecting me. I'm Robert Ames, from the US FBI. I called ahead."

The receptionist phoned someone else in the building, and then answered. "Certainly, the CSIS director is upstairs. Room 1001."

"The director. Well, I guess they're really interested", Ames thought as we went up the stairs. He entered, and saw the CSIS director along with some of his staff. "Remember self, you represent the CIA, don't screw this up", he thought as he took a seat.

He broke the ice. "Good day fellows. I'm from the FBI, in the US. I promised some intel goodies over the phone, and uhm, here we are." He produced the thumb drives. "I got these from the Neo-Soviet embassy, in DC. It has vital intel regarding Free Ukraine, and where the Russian soldiers are, and where they plan to go over the next week. I'm thinking you can benefit greatly."

This was tantalizing to hear. The Neo-Soviets had grown increasingly adept at discipline and stealth since their horrendous initial invasion back in 2022. The Canadians had helped restore Ukrainian independence, but the fight had devolved into a slog. One of the director's staff asked, "How did you get this?", with some incredulousness.

"I walked right into their embassy and told them the US would offer fuel or munitions for their effort, if they could prove how seriously they took the war in Ukraine. They gave me this info as evidence. I relied, maybe ironically, on our reputation back home for being complete morons. They didn't know I could speak Russian, for example, and they assumed that giving this info to an American intelligence agent would be no risk to them."

"Now wait a minute, did you tell anyone else about this promise to give ammunition to the Neo-Soviets?", one of the staff asked. He was worried about the possibility of this actually happening.

"No, it was only me. I didn't tell the director either about that trip. This is all me."

"All you eh? Well that's quite something." The director commented. "We got a call from the airport after you left, saying that it was about Free Ukraine. They also said you wanted to get better trade deals for the US. Are you doing this on your own?"

Ames recalled the reason he had to give the airport officers. "That motive... may not be fully accurate. I don't really care about trade deals."

"So you want something else. That raises the big question-what's in it for you?"

Ames felt somber, a bit nervous, but also oddly calm. This was the moment he would have to reveal his motive. "I... understand that Canada has far more intelligence links with the world now, particularly with countries that contain the Large Hadron Collider. The US no longer does. I was hoping to find... a uh... time machine built with that type of technology."

The CSIS director and his staff were silent for a moment. One of his staff then asked, "A time machine? Like, over in Europe?"

"Yes. It's a long story. Does that technology exist, here in 2305?" Much to Ames' fear, he sounded like a crazy person. "I'm not insane, I can prove why I'm asking."

The director took the initiative. "Gentleman, this is a new one, and I've been the director for nearly 15 years. It'd be nice if the Empire had access to such a device, our war in Ukraine and elsewhere would have been alot easier. But Mr. Ames, what would you want it for? And how can you 'prove' it?"

Ames was crestfallen. He was numb, and silent for a moment. "I... you're gonna think I'm crazy. Or more so. But there's this warehouse in DC, I was put in cryogenic sleep in the year 2022 and set to awaken in this year. It's gone, now, but I'm really with the CIA. I've technically been on assignment for 283 years."

The director didn't know what to say. He turned to one of his staff. "Tuttle, please take a look at these thumb drives. If it's good, let's implement it right away. As for you Mr. Ames, can you and I speak, just us." The director, while incredulous, decided to hear this fanciful tale. Cryogenic technology existed in 2022, however rudimentary; and if this fellow was being truthful, he could be a fascinating window into the past. He also wanted to give Ames some privacy, so he would be more comfortable providing any further info. The other staff members left the room.

The director then said, "So Mr. Ames, 2022. That's quite awhile back. The person at the airport mentioned an old-fashioned passport that they had to confiscate. I'll text him for an image. But where did this take place?"

"There's this warehouse to the West of DC. The CIA put me there, and I awoke actually just over a week ago, I think. It's been quite crazy. I applied to the FBI as part of my assignment, and they gave me my current position." He pulled out his phone, and pointed out on a map the approximate location of the warehouse. "If you have agents in DC, you can check it out for yourself."

The director asked a few other questions. "Who was President in 2022? And what was happening in Ukraine, if you remember? Oh and, the name's Director Carlin, by the way."

"It was Joe Biden, and as for Ukraine, the Russians tried to invade but didn't do very well at all. They were bogged down and lost alot of soldiers."

"There's alot you haven't seen in that case. And how Canada became involved." Carlin said. "Oh, here's that passport picture. Yep, that looks like you. It's dated 2305 but that design hasn't been used for a couple centuries. It could still be a fabrication, but I'll keep an open mind."

Ames decided that keeping his old passport may not have been a bad move after all.

Carlin humored him and continued, "By 2047, after you were frozen, many nations including Ukraine were absorbed by larger powers. This came after the United States withdrew all military presence in these areas and cut off aid. Initially, Canada sent an emergency force to Europe to prevent Russia from swallowing more of Eastern Europe. Poland was saved, but barely."

Ames responded, "Well thank goodness for that. At least someone acted in the power vacuum."

"Yes... that 'emergency force' grew over time, over decades, to comprise as much of a foreign military presence as the US originally had. In other places as well, such as Japan, which had been occupied by China. We provided weapons, training and funds to the Ukrainian resistance for many years, and a successful revolution took place in Kyiv in 2101. The Neo-Soviets, as they now called themselves, were pushed back to the Dnipro region. Ever since then, it's been a back-and-forth situation. Some years it almost feels peaceful. But as long as one Ukrainian is alive, they will keep fighting. And we will help them."

"That's quite admirable. I'm glad that you're helping them", Ames said. Even if there was no time machine, he was still fulfilling a vital, legitimate intelligence mission that even Director Woolsey would be envious of. Maybe a silver lining. "I always thought Canada's population was relatively tiny. It's impressive that all of this happened."

"'Tiny' once upon a time. Our population exploded following events in the US. 'Refugees', whether of the intellectual or humanitarian type, left US cities such as Seattle, Chicago and New York, for Canadian ones-Vancouver, Ottawa and Toronto. My own family emigrated from Miami, in Florida, all that time ago."

"Miami! I've been there, recently I mean. It's terrible! It's overrun with factory run-off. I always pictured it as a beautiful place, though expensive."

"Yes, it's a shame what happened. My grandparents even told me, when I was little, how it used to be. Still far before their time, but they had pictures. I understand that recently they've stopped the factory run-off and are trying to... either store it long-term or render it into a useful product."

Ames was ecstatic to hear this. Happy, at least, compared to his earlier gloom. Tuttle walked in. "Good news sir, I'd say this intel is good. We can see where the Neo Soviets have their vehicles and troops. They're also apparently digging an underground fuel line from their border up to Dnipro, in response to airstrikes on their fuel trucks."

"Well"-Carlin said, while looking at the plans on the screen-"a 187-mile fuel line. Must have cost them a fortune. Too bad we'll have to spoil the party. Anything else juicy on there?"

"Oh there's plenty-a new stealth helicopter prototype, and their intelligence guy-Cherkashinski, I think?-also had pictures of his wife on here. I'd say that was by accident."

"Well Mr. Ames, we'll be sure to act on this. How long will you be in Canada?"

"Until Saturday. I'm on my own time, so I guess I'm also on a vacation of sorts."

"Sorry that we don't have what you're looking for. You haven't requested anything else though. Surely you don't want to leave empty-handed?"

"Well, you mentioned 'refugees' earlier. I might need to stay here at some point if there really is no time machine and things get too hot in the US."

"Certainly. We get your types on occasion. Democrats as well."

"Do you know of a 'Kyrie'? I've met her in Miami, in fact. She's a Democrat." Ames was curious if he knew of her, since Democrat refugees had come here.

"I can't say I have. I've met alot of people." The director downplayed his knowledge, since he didn't want to confirm any person's involvement or scope with the resistance. Ames could still be captured and forced to name names.

"Well, I guess I'll hang out for a few days and get a hotel. I'll keep an eye on what happens in Ukraine. I'd also like your business card, in case I have to seek asylum after all."

After Ames left, some of the staff asked Carlin: "Do you buy the time machine story?"

He replied, "I'm not sure. Not really sure why he'd lie about that. All he asked for was a shot at asylum here in Canada, in case things got 'too hot' for him down there. I think we can certainly do that. Even if he's a nut, he's still got the goods."

Ames took in some of the sights and museums on this first night. His hotel was just on the western bank of the Ottawa River, in Quebec. He was technically in a town named Gatineau, though he could see the Parliament building from his room. The sun was setting on the Ottawa River, which was a great view.

"Canada really stepped up. But someone had to." Ames was surprised at how a nation he viewed as relatively small in population, and friendly, had become the Empire the US used to be. What's more, it was fulfilling the promise that the US had always publicly claimed to be interested in-freedom and liberty, for themselves and other nations.

Corporate profits also were a lower priority than ensuring the health and happiness of its people, maintenance of public roads, lower greenhouse emissions, and other goals. This, perhaps ironically, had led to higher corporate profits for Canadian businesses than for their US counterparts.

Short-sighted bureaucrats and lobbyists in the US didn't think of it, but fuel costs were a major piece of overhead for many industries. In these years the US had decried fuel-efficiency standards and solar power as "homosexual" and "socialist", going so far as to endorse "coal-rolling" as "manly". Meanwhile, Canadian businesses were actually increasing their profit margin as a by-product of simply not being terrible people. They had fully embraced fuel efficient vehicles, all-electric vehicles and solar power to great effect. Canadian airlines alone spent a mere fraction on fuel that they used to.

That night, as Ames was laying in his bed, it occurred to him that Canada would be one of the nations that would be a major competitor to the US, after 2022. They certainly had the will and capability. In the very beginning, Director Woolsey, under whom he was still serving even though he was surely long-dead in the here-and-now, had asked him to take note of "what the main problems would end up being" as well as which nations would be a "problem".

But this gave Ames an internal conflict. Canada had greatly blossomed and was doing great at it. Hadn't they earned this? Meanwhile, how "great" was the US when it held this position? The US, and even his own CIA, had done its level-best to exploit or topple foreign governments. It had willingly abdicated its position as world leader, according to what he had heard. It didn't really seem fair.

Ames then thought of the fact that, apparently, there was no time machine. It was highly speculative to begin with. If that were the case, and there was no way he could return to 2022, then this assignment was over. But now, maybe for the first time in his life, he would be acting completely on his own accord, not on the request of someone else. While he may now be trapped here, there was something liberating about it.

Thursday was a mostly uneventful day, for once. He emailed Kyrie:

"Hey there, I'm in Canada now. Not official FBI business, just on my own. I gave their intelligence director Carlin intel that should help them in Free Ukraine. It's where the Russians are. I did it because-"

He didn't want to mention the time machine just yet since she would think he was nuts; maybe he would when or if he met her again.

"-I hate what the Neo Soviets are doing. I support freedom in Ukraine just as much as I would in the US. Carlin, the Canadian intelligence director, also said Democrats come up here for asylum. I guess we'll see how effective that intel is.

I'll be back in DC by Saturday. I also have another person to deliver to the strip club, that I took your friends to. He was the candidate in Texas, O'Rourke."

Ames spent that day and Friday seeing more of the sights, museums, and the Imperial Canadian Mint. Canadian TV was also decidedly higher quality; in terms of information, and the mental health of those making or starring in it. He was thinking that this place was a far better place to live than his place in DC. He eventually had to leave, and on Saturday morning he got a flight back to DC. Fortunately, the plane was a far better-maintained one that didn't smell like oil or look like a relic from a post-apocalyptic movie.

Upon arrival back at his place, he noticed that road crews were paving the roads to repair the potholes. He then turned on the news. It was about Free Ukraine. The intel he provided was highly effective.

Canadian-suppled fighter-bomber jets were seen attacking Neo-Soviet positions. Tanks and personnel carriers, normally kept invisible by their stealth technology, were destroyed or captured after the Neo-Soviets ran away in a panic. Ammunition and fuel depots were also destroyed. The attacks seen over this day culminated in a major explosion; a bunker-buster bomb reached and detonated the underground fuel line.

Neo-Soviet front lines crumbled on this day, the worst rout in almost 300 years. Ames was pleased that he had played such a part. No doubt Kyrie would be impressed, he hoped.

Meanwhile, Cherkashinski wasn't so pleased. He and the other embassy staff glowered at what they were seeing on their own news feed. It was obvious what had happened. The junior agent who spoke up earlier, however, DARE not voice his "I told you so", unless he wanted to take a long walk off of a short window ledge.

He instead said, "Those Canadians must have had spies in our ranks! Those bastards! We will begin an immediate investigation."

"Da... I suppose we should." Cherkashinski said. He was also worried about getting in hot water himself. If this got out, he would surely "receive 9 grams of lead". "Fellows, when that FBI guy visited here. I'm assuming we have the CCTV footage of his visit? And it also has audio?"

"...Yes?"

"Burn it. We will tell Moscow that we had hardware malfunction."

"Ok, but it may illegal to destroy record-", the other agent said.

"HARDWARE MALFUNCTION! Now get to it." Cherkashinski wouldn't be sleeping well for quite awhile, in case the FBI, or CSIS for that matter, wanted to leak exactly how they got this intel. He would have to deny it; it would be his word against theirs. But he also misplaced his thumb drive containing racy pictures from home..."Oh, eto chertovski plokho."

Ames enjoyed watching the news, though hadn't heard from Kyrie lately. But now, he had another hostage to save. He called the FBI HQ, and made arrangements to pick up the van containing O'Rourke. He went in to HQ to begin this latest action.