Hunt the Truth/05 VO

A visit deep inside ONI branch headquarters brings unexpected results. A voice from the past returns. And an in-flight incident sparks a flame that can’t be put out.

Benjamin: Hi, I'm here to see Michael Sullivan.

ONI receptionist: Do you have an appointment?

Benjamin: Uh, yes. I'm Ben Giraud, I have a one o'clock.

Benjamin (voiceover): Checking in with the receptionist at the Office of Naval Intelligence's bizarre formality: announcing myself, her asking me who I was there to see, it was all just an antiquated conversation. Part of their efforts to put a more human face on the operation. In reality, surveillance knew where I had been every minute. Since I had stepped onto the transit back at home. Throughout the morning, as I had made my way from the Boston terminal. This receptionist had likely been prompted with dynamic updates of my exact arrival time, deviations from my optimal course, bathroom breaks, my average walking speed, however they did it. They'd been expecting me.

ONI receptionist: I'll let him know you're here, Ben.

Benjamin: Okay. Thank you.

Benjamin (voiceover): The whole ONI facility was sleek and stark; everywhere you look, its sharp lines, the highest quality materials. Most striking though was the overwhelming amount of space and silence. This waiting area was particularly sparse. Two, minimalist carbon fiber chairs set twenty feet from each other. I also noticed the seats seemed oddly low to the ground. I picked one, and sat down. This chair was really low to the ground. It was awkward. I was probably looking at sixty to ninety minutes of customary wait time here, and squatting like this was not gonna help my anxiety level. But I was just pulling up some busy work, when the door behind reception suddenly slid open.

ONI receptionist: Ben, mister Sullivan will see you now.

Benjamin: Now?

ONI receptionist: Yes.

Benjamin (voiceover): I awkwardly struggled up from the chair and crossed the room. My heart was racing.

Benjamin: Uh, thank you.

Benjamin (voiceover): She didn't respond.

Benjamin (voiceover): I stepped into a narrow, empty hallway full of closed doors. I was about to turn around and ask where I was supposed to go but the door immediately closed behind me. The lighting in the hallway shifted, indicating a closed door at the far end. I walked down the hallway pass what I assumed were offices. Everything was soundproof though; so I had no idea if there were actually people working in there. When I got to the end of the hall, Sullivan's door opened at the last possible second. When I walked in Sullivan didn't look up. He was sitting behind his desk and intently working on his COM pad.

Benjamin: Hey.

Sullivan: Ben, I'm glad you made it.

Benjamin (voiceover): I stood there awkwardly for a bit. I realized that this must be the room he'd always talked to me from. It was furnished as minimally as the rest of the building. There were was a few shreds of actual personality on display behind him though. A couple of knick-knacks, and this antique simulated analog clock. Sullivan still hadn't looked up.

Benjamin: Should I uh... should I...

Sullivan: Make yourself comfortable.

Benjamin: (Quiet) Ok. Yeah.

Benjamin (voiceover): He continued swiping on his COM pad. I sat down on the chair, just like the other one, my knees were at my ears. I felt oddly far from his desk too. I tried some small talk.

Benjamin: Hmph. I didnt take you for a antiques guy, Sullivan. Wh-Where did you get the clock?

Sullivan: Oh, I always had it.

Benjamin: Nice, nice. So um...

Sullivan: Hows the story, Ben?

Benjamin: It's good. It's good.

Sullivan: You getting what you need?

Benjamin: Absolutely.

Sullivan: Wanna make sure you get all your uh... your questions answered.

Benjamin: Great, no th-, well, uh yeah, yeah, I-uh, I am. I mean um...

Sullivan: Perfect.