"Morgan? Morgan?...wake..."
Someone was gently tapping onto his cheeks before shaking him by his shoulders. Carina's voice seemed so far away and distorted. Slowly Morgan opened his eyes, flinched an immediately closed them again. Hearing hurt his ears and seeing hurt his eyes. The last thing he remembered seeing was a huge red dot.
"You okay Morgan?" Carina asked worriedly after Morgan let out a pitiful moan.
"Yeah only if my head stops killing me!" Morgan couldn't help but hiss in pain as he rubbed his temples.
Carina helped Morgan sit up slowly, keeping a supportive hand on his back. "Easy there, Morgan. Take deep breaths," she advised, her concern evident in her voice.
As Morgan slowly regained his bearings, the pounding in his head began to subside, replaced by a dull ache. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. "What happened?" he murmured, still feeling disoriented.
Carina explained, her voice gentle. "After you unleashed the chaos bomb, something triggered a massive influx of visual data on your screen. It overwhelmed you somehow, and you passed out."
Morgan rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all. "Visual data?" He shook his head several times in order to regain his bearings. Grabbing hold of the side table he attempted to stand up on his feet only to unceremoniously fall back onto his butt as he registered the full force of his head ache. It was so painful that he bent over and wretched the poor contents of his stomach all over the rug Chuck brought him on his housewarming party. He slowly wiped his mouth using a tissue and tried to rise again this time finally making it , although he still had to hold the table tightly in order to steady his footing.
Carina rushed to Morgan's side, concern etched deeply on her face. "Morgan, you shouldn't push yourself. You need to rest," she urged, her voice tinged with worry.
Morgan grimaced, acknowledging the pain but pushing through it nonetheless. "I'm fine," he insisted, though his voice was strained. "It sounds like something straight out of my psychology and symbolism class back at UCLA."
Carina's concern deepened as Morgan tried to downplay his discomfort. "Morgan, this isn't like deciphering symbols in a textbook," she reminded him gently. "This is real life, and whatever triggered that influx of visual data clearly had a significant impact on you."
Morgan nodded, conceding her point with a sigh. "Yeah, you're right. It's just... it feels familiar, like I've encountered something similar before."
Carina furrowed her brow, her curiosity piqued. "In your psychology and symbolism class?"
Morgan nodded again, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, exactly. Look our brains are wired to recognize patterns and symbols, even when we're not consciously aware of it. So theoretically it should be possible to arrange information in form of three dimensional images, creating a map of sorts human brain can recognize and absorb in instance. But problem is...only a rare few might be able to retain and recollect all these massive information..."
However before Morgan could finish what he was about to say, he was hit by a sensation he had never felt before in his entire life. Triggered by the tattoo on Carina's bare shoulders. The pounding in his head started beating on a faster rhythm as he began to see bytes of data interspersed with different red tinted pictures in his mind's eyes. All pertaining to one Carina Miller.
Of course...which wasn't her real name.
A paper of Police Entry Exam referring to Carol Ramirez
Temporary transfer letter to DEA's Special Operations Division
Top Secret red tab psych file
Kill sheet with over twenty confirmed kills
Semiautomatic gun
Soon the sensation stopped as soon as it began.
It's only then Morgan truly realized Carina was might be one of the most beautiful faces he had ever encountered in his whole life but her beauty was only in direct proportion to how dangerous a person she truly was. And if the information he had registered inside his head was to believed she was also an ace shot. Something he had already witnessed firsthand.
Morgan blinked, the rush of information leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He stared at Carina, his mind reeling with the implications of what he had just experienced. Unfortunately, Carina was looking straight at him while he was seeing all this information inside his head, and she had already witnessed a bunch of test agents flash at an Intersect research facility owned by FULCRUM to realize what might be happening to him.
Before Morgan could realize what was going on, Carina straddled him on the chair, pinning him in place with surprising strength. Her legs springing up fast and each of the firmly pressed against her obliques, keeping him restrained in one place Morgan attempted to get out from her grasp using all his remaining strength, but her thighs were like steel, he couldn't break free from her grip no matter how much he tried. It felt rather scary and humiliating. Carina gave him a strange look , the gap between them was almost entirely closed . Her body almost pressed to his. It was too much contact as far as Morgan was concerned.
Now Morgan was starting to feel a little bit scared for the first time. This was first time someone had invaded his personal space and attempted to dominate him like this.
"Look Morgan, I don't know how or why, but you have downloaded the Fulcrum's Intersect inside your head." She spoke in a serious tone, her blue orbs staring down into his.
"What does...this mean for me?" He asked hesitantly with a hint of fear and unease in his eyes.
"It means you have now became the walking talking depository of all the highly classified and sensitive information FULCRUM managed to gather and steal over the years." Carina spoke with a wicked grin.
Carina's revelation sent a chill down Morgan's spine, his mind reeling with the implications of her words. "Just...how much information we are talking about!" he stammered, his voice trembling with fear and confusion.
Carina's expression grew grave as she considered Morgan's question. "The extent of Fulcrum's infiltration and the amount of information they stole from the government is vast and deeply concerning," she admitted, her voice tinged with apprehension.
"They've had their hands in everything from classified military operations to top-secret intelligence gathering," she continued, her tone heavy with the weight of the truth. "Their reach is extensive, and their resources are formidable. Fulcrum is meticulous and ruthless in their methods. They utilize a vast network of spies, hackers, and moles to infiltrate government agencies, military installations, corporate entities and even have contacts with highly influential politicians across the spectrum. And trust me when I say, they spared no expense in their pursuit of classified data, leveraging every resource at their disposal to obtain it."
Morgan's mind spun with the implications of Carina's words. "So, they could have access to virtually anything... any government secret, any classified project?" he asked, a sense of dread creeping into his voice.
Carina nodded grimly. "Exactly. And now, all of that information resides inside your head, Morgan. "
Morgan's heart raced as he tried to comprehend the magnitude of what Carina was telling him. It was as if he had unwittingly become a living, breathing vault of the most sensitive government secrets imaginable. The weight of that responsibility threatened to crush him.
Carina on the other hand couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and sympathy inside her heart. The real objective of both government and FULCRUM was to find candidates who could upload and retain as many of the encoded images inside their brain. For the some purpose CIA and NSA had carried out several not so ethical experimentations in secret on consenting human subjects. The roots of Intersect project could be traced back to the tumultuous era of the Cold War. It was a time of paranoia and suspicion, when the threat of nuclear annihilation loomed large and governments scrambled to gain any advantage they could in the global power struggle.
Project Intersect was born out of this atmosphere of fear and uncertainty. Under the guise of national security, the CIA and NSA embarked on a series of unethical experiments, preying upon the vulnerable and exploiting their vulnerabilities in the name of science. They recruited consenting human subjects, often without their full understanding or consent, promising them a chance to unlock the hidden potential of their minds.
But behind closed doors, the reality was far more sinister. Subjects were subjected to a barrage of psychological and physical torture, including sensory deprivation, electroshock therapy, and the administration of mind-altering drugs like LSD. The goal was to break down their mental barriers and create a blank slate upon which new information could be imprinted.
The promise of creating human supercomputers, individuals capable of processing and analyzing complex information at an accelerated rate, was a seductive lure for those in power. But the toll it took on the subjects involved was immeasurable, their minds shattered and their lives irreparably damaged in the pursuit of some elusive goal.
As for Fulcrum, their pursuit of power knew no bounds. Taking a page straight out of CIA and NSA's rulebook, Fulcrum operated with ruthless efficiency. Building upon the research conducted by government agencies, Fulcrum sought to take mind augmentation to new heights, pushing the boundaries of what was considered possible. Their experiments were even more extreme, their subjects subjected to even more heinous forms of torture and manipulation. But for Fulcrum, the ends justified the means. They saw themselves as the architects of a new world order, where power and control lay in the hands of those who were willing to do whatever it took to seize it.
But the cost of such power was steep, Carina knew. The subjects who underwent the Intersect procedure were forever changed, their minds warped and twisted by the influx of information. Many suffered from debilitating side effects, from memory loss and cognitive impairment to severe mental illness. It was a fate worse than death, she thought, to be trapped in a prison of one's own mind, unable to escape the horrors that lurked within.
However, much to her shock and relief, Morgan had somehow managed to survive the burnt of downloading the entire Intersect database inside his brain with little to no side effects. Something she didn't think was humanly possible.
At the same time, a nagging sense of unease lingered settled in the back of her mind. How had he managed to survive when so many others had failed? Was there something different about him, something that set him apart from the rest? It was a question that begged to be answered, one that would undoubtedly shape how this mission went forward in future.
"What did you...see about me that made you so much unsettled , Morgan?" Carina asked out of curiosity and confusion.
Morgan's heart raced as he tried to piece together the whirlwind of information flooding his mind. His thoughts were chaotic, jumbled with the weight of the unexpected chaotic situation he had gotten himself into. . He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he looked up at her, struggling to articulate the torrent of images and visuals floating in front of his mind's eye.
Morgan spoke nervously "I saw your real name—Carol Ramirez. Your background, your work with the DEA, the undercover operations, the kills... so many details. It's like a torrent of red-tinted images and bytes of data all related to you."
Carina's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. "The Intersect showed you all that?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral.
Morgan nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, and more. It was overwhelming, like my brain was trying to process and catalog everything at once. I don't know how to explain it, but it felt like I suddenly knew you, everything about you, in an instant."
Carina sighed, her expression shifting to one of reluctant acceptance. "That makes sense, given what the Intersect is designed to do. It's meant to be a repository of information, accessible at a moment's notice. But for you to see all that about me...it means you do have some capability of tapping into the reserve of highly classified information stored within the Intersect."
Morgan's head throbbed, the enormity of the situation pressing down on him. "What does this mean for me?"
"It means that the government secrets inside your head can be accessed through random triggers. Every time you see or hear something related to a person or a mission, the Intersect flashes that information , allowing you know everything about that particular subject in an instant." Carina said bluntly, her expression almost unreadable.
Morgan felt a deep pit of anxiety forming in his stomach. The reality of his situation was overwhelming, and the headache was not making it easier to digest. He struggled to focus on Carina's words, the weight of what he had just experienced bearing down heavily on him.
"So, I'm a walking database now," Morgan said, his voice tinged with disbelief and frustration. "A target for anyone who wants to access this information. This wasn't part of the plan when I agreed to help you Miss DEA."
Carina's eyes softened slightly, a hint of guilt flickering in her gaze. "I know, Morgan, and I didn't anticipate this either. But we have to adapt and deal with the situation as it is."
"Easy for you to say," Morgan retorted dryly, his frustration evident, "You're not the one who suddenly became a human vault for classified information!"
Carina bit her lip, trying to suppress a smirk despite the tension. "You're right, and I can't begin to imagine what you're feeling right now. But we need to figure out how to use this to our advantage. You have a unique opportunity here."
Morgan ran a hand through his hair, feeling the gravity of her words. "An opportunity? You mean a chance to become a target for Fulcrum and anyone else who might want that information?"
"Exactly," Carina replied, her tone more serious now. "But think about it—if you can access this information, we can use it to expose Fulcrum's operations, dismantle their network, and bring them down. You could be the key to stopping them."
" Great!" Morgan groaned in frustration, rolling his eyes, " So I am government's very own free to use highly classified search engine now? What are they gonna call me next, morgoole?"
Carina couldn't help but chuckle at Morgan's sarcastic remark, despite the gravity of the situation. "Well, I wouldn't call you Morgoole, but think of it this way: you're holding a card that Fulcrum desperately wants. That makes you valuable, not just a pawn."
Morgan shot her a glare, still feeling the weight of everything that had just been dumped on him. "Yeah, valuable like a piece of meat dangling in front of a hungry lion.
Carina sighed, her playful demeanor fading into something more serious. "Look, I know it's a lot to take in. But we don't have time for you to wallow in self-pity. Right now, we need to figure out how to protect you and figure out the best way to use this... gift."
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Gift? Really? I'm one bad flash away from a migraine so bad my brain might explode, and you're calling this a gift?"
She leaned closer, her eyes locking with his, the intensity of the moment cutting through the banter. "It is a gift, Morgan. One that could save lives—if we use it right. But we're in this together. I'll make sure you're protected. And... if you help me, I'll make sure Fulcrum never gets their hands on you. Deal?"
Morgan hesitated, the pit of dread in his stomach refusing to disappear. But what choice did he really have? He could already feel the gears of something much bigger than him grinding into motion, and whether he liked it or not, he was in the thick of it now.
With a resigned sigh, Morgan extended his hand. "Deal. But if I turn into some government guinea pig or end up dying somehow, I'm going to haunt you till the ages."
Carina grinned as she shook his hand, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes—perhaps relief or even sympathy for the whirlwind Morgan had just been swept into. "I think I'd deserve it," she replied, standing up and letting go of his hand. Her casual demeanor returned, but the weight of their situation still hung heavy in the air.
Morgan slowly stood, leaning against the table for support. The reality of his new life was starting to sink in, but the dread clung to him like a heavy blanket. "So, what now? What's the next step?" he asked, still trying to shake the fog from his brain.
Carina glanced toward the window, her expression thoughtful. "We lie low for now. Fulcrum will be hunting down for me and their Intersect prototype. But they don't know anything about you bypassing all their military grade encryptions and directly uploading all the intel they managed to gather by sabotaging and infiltrating govermment agencies. That gives us a some time to figure out how to handle this. And we'll need to reach out to some... trusted contacts."
Morgan groaned internally, already imagining the parade of shadowy government agents and covert operatives that would soon be complicating his life. "And by 'trusted contacts,' you mean more people like you?" he asked, a bit wary.
Carina shrugged, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Maybe. Maybe worse. But don't worry, you've got me watching your back."
Morgan didn't find that particularly reassuring, but he kept his mouth shut. As the two of them stood there in the relative calm, he couldn't shake the feeling that his life had just taken a turn down a path from which there was no coming back. And he had no idea where it would lead.
"Let's just hope this 'gift' doesn't get me or anyone close to me get killed," he muttered under his breath, feeling a headache already forming again.
(KNOCK, KNOCK. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.)
"Huh?" Both Morgan and Carina turned to the door.
"Who could that be?" Carina wondered.
"I know that knock...that's Ellie! She must have seen my light on last night!" Morgan cursed his own blunder.
"Who?" Carina asked him, seemingly dumbfounded
"My best friend's sister who lives nearby. She's probably visiting! She wasn't supposed to be busy in preparations of Chuck's !" Morgan got up and headed to the door. He turned to Carina for one last time "You're my recent friend from San Francisco, I brought you over to help me with a project of mine we finished, and now we're just hanging out, got it?" Morgan gave her a story.
"I can work with that. Although I don't see the need for a script. Making up stories on the fly is a specialty of mine. And a lot of fun if you do it right." Carina nodded nonchalantly. She giggled a little at the last bit.
"JUST...work with me here. It's the least you can do for me risking my hide to help you out." Morgan responed with a sigh, his eyebrows twitching in irritation.
Carina gave Morgan an amused smirk, leaning back in her seat as she crossed her legs. "Relax, Morgan. I'll play along, no problem. But seriously, you're too tense for someone who's just had their entire life flipped upside down." Her teasing tone did nothing to soothe Morgan's nerves.
Morgan took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well, excuse me for not being the coolest cucumber in a life-or-death situation," he muttered before heading to the door.
He reached for the doorknob, hesitated for a moment to collect himself, then pulled the door open. Standing on the other side was Ellie Bartowski, her warm, concerned expression instantly familiar and comforting.
"Morgan! I saw your light on late last night. Are you alright? You didn't answer my texts, and I was worried," Ellie said, stepping forward to give him a friendly hug.
Morgan awkwardly returned the hug, glancing over his shoulder toward Carina, who was watching them with mild interest. "Yeah, sorry about that, Ellie. Just... been working on some stuff. You know how it is."
Ellie pulled back, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gave Morgan a once-over. "You look terrible, Morgan. What's going on?" She noticed Carina sitting in the background and raised an eyebrow. "And who's this?"
Morgan cleared his throat, forcing a grin. "Ellie, this is Carina. She's an old friend from San Francisco. She came over to help me with a project, and we were just catching up." He turned to Carina, signaling for her to introduce herself.
Carina stood up smoothly, her smile both disarming and mysterious. "Nice to meet you, Ellie. Morgan's told me all about you." She extended a hand, her voice calm and pleasant, though Morgan could tell there was an underlying sharpness to her tone, like she was sizing Ellie up.
Ellie frowned slightly, her eyes lingering on Carina's striking appearance. Carina's effortlessly beautiful features and her casual, yet somewhat revealing outfit contrasted sharply with the usual people in Morgan's orbit. Ellie's protective instincts kicked in as she wondered just what kind of "project" Morgan could have been working on with someone like her.
Her smile faltered for just a moment before she composed herself. "It's nice to meet you, Carina." She shook Carina's hand, her grip a bit firmer than usual as she studied the woman before her. "Morgan, I didn't realize you had... friends in San Francisco."
Morgan, feeling the tension rising between the two women, quickly interjected. "Yeah, Carina and I go way back. We worked on a—uh—tech project together. You know, a little side gig. Nothing major."
Ellie's eyes flicked back to Carina, still not entirely convinced. "Uh-huh. Well, Morgan, you know you can always come to me if you need help with anything."
Carina, sensing Ellie's unease, leaned casually against the back of the couch, flashing a disarming smile. "Don't worry, Ellie. I'm making sure Morgan stays on top of things. He's in good hands." There was something about the way Carina said it that seemed both comforting and unnerving at the same time.
Ellie gave a small, forced chuckle, trying to brush off her concerns. "Right... okay then. Just make sure to be on time for the party." She gave Morgan a lingering look, as if silently telling him they'd talk later, before turning and heading out the door.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Morgan let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "She's definitely suspicious now. Great."
Carina shrugged, unfazed. "She's protective. I get it. But she'll back off once she realizes you're fine."
Morgan groaned, flopping back onto the couch. "You don't know Ellie like I do. She's going to be watching me like a hawk now."
Carina smirked as she moved to sit back down. "Well, better keep your story straight then, Morgoole."
Morgan sighed, sinking into the couch. "Yeah, well, let's hope Chuck doesn't hear about this. He'll freak out if he thinks something weird's going on."
Carina raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Weird? Morgan, in the span of last fourty eight hours, you have helped me evade one of the world's most dangerous and highly influencial rogue spy outfits, broke throgh their highly advanced military grade encryptions and even ended up with their most valuable possession inside your head, .Weird is your new normal now."
Morgan rubbed his temples again, the dull ache in his head intensifying. "Great. Just what I needed... more excitement in my already insane life."
...xxxxxxx...xxxxxxxxx...,...
Next time: Morgan is already having his hands full dealing with Intersect in his head and the notoriou DEA agent on his side. What happens when he isn't the only Intersect host in the room?