The man with a sharp jawline and dark hair looked at with a discerning gaze, "Maximillian Sullivan, I’m a CIA agent."
I nodded.
He gestured towards the woman beside him, "And this is... a psychologist from our CIA team.", he then turned back towards .
"Maximillian Sullivan, on the orders of the President of the United States of Arica, you are to be arrested for an unspecified duration," the CIA agent declared with an air of authority.
The declaration didn’t leave unaffected, but my gaze was focused on the woman’s face. She was...
I knew who she was.
I couldn’t speak.
I had trouble breathing.
What the fuck was going on?
"We need to talk with you, Maximillian,", The man added.
They escorted out of the cell, leading to the sa interrogation room where I had previously spoken with Detective Richards.
My attention was still fully on the woman that walked in front of .
As we entered the interrogation room and sat down, I turned towards the woman, and asked, "Professor Lilian, what are you doing here?"
She was exactly the sa person I have talked with during my visit in Germany.
She was the investor from Vanguard.
The male CIA agent turned towards Lilian with a complicated expression.
Lilian looked at as if she didn’t understand what I was asking, "I’m sorry, Maximillian. My na is not Lilian. I don’t think we have ever t before."
My brain was tweaking, but I remained calm.
There had to be an explanation for this.
I was certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was her.
"Could we get so tea for the room, Officer?" she requested from the police officer that entered behind us.
Turning toward , she added, "Max, would you like so tea as well?"
"Coffee, actually. Not much of a tea person."
A second later the woman took out her notes, jotting sothing down before asking, "Max, could you tell where you supposedly t before?"
I began to understand what was going on.
My mindset quickly snapped and the goal of my actions shifted.
And so I began to explain, "Just two days ago, back in Germany, I had a eting with a Vanguard investor, she looked extrely similar. I guess I have misjudged."
Now it was the male agent’s turn to speak, "Maximillian... I’m sorry to say this. However, from what we have gathered, you haven’t left the borders of the USA since the 7th of November when you visited South Korea."
Haa... now it was getting interesting.
"Max, I’m a psychologist. I’m here to help you. Along with the accusations that Ms. Olivia made, she ntioned that you have been descending into insanity," the supposed psychologist ntioned.
"Insanity?"
"Yes.", she continued, "She shared unsettling details about the thoughts that you’ve been having and the stories you’ve been sharing with her."
"Oh. Now I know what this is about. If you’re talking about my weird dreams, then it was just a funny story that I made up to make Olivia more interested in . All the accusations have been proven to be unwarranted, anyway."
Lying in this situation seed like the more efficient option. I wasn’t keen on explaining everything to them.
"That’s likely, and she will also be penalized for her misconduct. But, why do you think she made those accusations?"
"After I broke up with her, I would assu she tried to build a case about how I’m ntally ill or sothing. At least that’s my assumption."
"That seems like a valid cause, but there are clearly so problems that you’re having. You made up the fact that you went to Germany.", She pushed further.
As I spoke with the so-called psychologist, nurous thoughts swirled through my mind.
Why would the CIA be interested in such a small matter? There was no natural explanation for that.
And why were they trying to paint as ntally ill.
Nonetheless, I began to clearly and coherently explain everything in relation to my visit to Germany, emphasizing that they must have wrong information.
"I could even call my team at Dreamland Net and make them explain everything to you.", I said.
"Sure, Maximillian.", The male agent went out and a second later he brought my phone to .
I dialed Mr. Reymond’s number and a second later, there was a signal.
"This number doesn’t exist... --- --- ---"
What in the...
I tried dialing Ms. Brooks number, but the sa thing happened.
Damn. I guess they got good.
I racked my brain, attempting to think of ways to break their ploy, but deep down, I already knew it would be impossible.
This was a well-designed trap, and the more I tried to dig, the further I would be buried underneath.
"Maximillian, we have a team of psychologists at the CIA. They will be coming to you for the next couple of days. We can assure you that they can help you get better," the woman said.
At that mont I thought about telling them to check the internet for ntions of my breakthrough in monopoles, which was the reason for my visit in Germany.
However, on second though, this wouldn’t change anything. CIA could easily erase all of that, and I’m pretty sure they already thought about it.
Even if they didn’t, they would still find a reason to keep here regardless.
There was nothing I could do and this is exactly what they wanted.
There was no reason to be impulsive, "ok. I agree. Bring the psychologists. I hope that I will get better", I smiled.
Maybe it was just my imagination, but the smile the woman gave wasn’t just the smile of a happy psychologist.
As they were about to leave, the woman gave a subtle wink. Why?
Why did Professor Lillian shot a wink at ?
After the conversation, the agent left with Professor Lillian.
I still called her Professor Lillian in my mind because there was no way I was wrong. It was her.
As I looked at her fleeting figure, I thought back to the eting we had. Most likely, the person who left the letter back then was not the German politician; it was Professor Lillian.
As I was led back to my cell, I gained more and more clarity.
If the CIA was onto this and supposedly the President of the United States had made the call to arrest until further notice, then they must be onto the entire dream thing.
There was no other explanation.
Either the President or soone with similar power.
They must either have more knowledge than about the matter or, at least, be aware of the technology that can be used for controlling soone’s dreams.
But if soone were to make that connection regarding such a small matter, they would need to be actively seeking out things connected with such stuff.
Yet they didn’t arrest when I made the posts on my blog.
So what’s the reason?
Who was pulling the strings?
The following day, I was basically treated like a ntally ill prisoner.
An old psychologist who ca to talk with clearly tried to persuade that I was an insane patient.
It seed like he was training to believe that.
Fortunately, I was too smart for that. I could easily discern lies, fabrications, and manipulation.
When he was leaving, I could even see disappointnt on his face, as if he failed in his obligation to make a freak.
The obligation to convince of my ntal instability.
In the evening of the sa day, the CIA agent with the sharp jawline ca back.
"Good evening, Mr. Maximillian", he greeted .
"Not so good... not for ..."
"You are lucky, Sir. You have been granted freedom."
"What? What changed?"
"I’m not aware of that, but I got the order to release you and bring you outside. Soone is waiting for you there."
"Is Ms. Psychologist with you, officer?"
"No. She is not. She has been released."
"Released? Like, for vacation or sothing?"
"I can’t answer that question", he said as a police office approached the lock and opened the cell.
"Here are your belongings, Max.", the police officer said. I have conversed for so ti with this man last evening. Hence the lack of formality.
As I exited the cell, I noticed that aside from the CIA agent there were also two bulky man, who looked like guards, with him.
"The guards will show you the way, Maximillian. It would be wise for you to cooperate", the agent pointed towards the exit.
I followed his order and left the police apartnt under the scrutiny of the two n.
Parked in front of the building, I saw a pink rcedes Benz with shaded windows.
A confusing sight, to say the least.
The guards escorted towards the car’s door, and I guessed that I had no choice but to enter the car.
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