The Military Aid and Intelligence Center is a friendly corporation. Its mission is good and peace in the world. I, Lorenzo Smith, work with MAIC, and therefore my mission is the same.

I had to keep reminding myself of this as I ran along a narrow catwalk draped between two cliffs in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest near Mount Rainier. The wreckage of the helicopter that I had crashed smoldered a few hundred yards behind me, in a grassy meadow that had once looked like Heaven itself. Now it was an inferno, and the scientists were shooting at me from farther back on the catwalk.

Suddenly the shooting stopped, replaced by a very soft sawing sound. With dread, I realized that they were sawing the ropes that connected the two cliff faces. I poured on speed, knowing that if they successfully cut the rope that connected the cliffs, I would fall into the river far below.

The scientists were strong. They weren't really scientists, but guards that worked with black-market scientists that were working on an especially powerful type of dirty bomb back in Seattle. And it was MAIC's job to take out the lab.

I was just a diversion. I had flown a conspicuous brightly painted helicopter out into the woods with the logo for MAIC on its underbelly, trying to lead the guards guarding the lab away from the lab. And I had been fairly successful, until the guards shot my helicopter down from a narrow road through the forest and chased me out onto the catwalk.

I ran like there was no tomorrow. I was 50 yards away from the other side. 45 yards...40 yards...I was going to make it!

Snap! I felt the narrow suspension bridge shudder, and then slip away. I grabbed onto the handrails, which were just made of rope. I was strong. I was 31 years old, with big muscles and martial arts training. But the bridge was dangling, and I soon succumbed to the body's needs. I heard one of the guards laugh, thinking he had accomplished the mission of saving the lab. I smiled. Even though there was a good chance I would die, the black-market lab was probably being broken into right now.

I let go, relishing the few seconds of falling through the air, my body weightless.

Then came the splash, and within a second, blackout.

I woke up in the medical wing of the Military Aid and Intelligence Center. I recognized the black tiled walls and the comfortable feel of lying on the medical beds. It felt like safety. I can't count how many times I've woken up in this room.

"What happened?" I mumbled.

"When we saw your copter shot down, we sent a search party up the river, and saw your body floating down in the other direction," said the cute nurse who was always assigned to take care of me. "You almost didn't make it."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what you always say." I paused. "Did you...was the mission a success?"

"Absolutely," said the cute nurse. "Thanks to you, MAIC forces were able to storm the lab and destroy all bomb blueprints with zero casualties. You should count yourself a hero."

I smiled. It felt good to be a hero. I almost always felt like a hero after successful missions.

Almost.

There are exceptions. I have killed people before. They have asked me to kill people before. And I'm not a killer. I feel horrible after those missions. The worst part is, the people I'm killing aren't always bad guys, and sometimes they're deaths aren't even vital to the success of the mission. They are just distractions. Because that is my job. Distractor-In-Chief. Well, not officially, but that's how I like to think of it.

And I keep thinking that one of these killing missions will put me over the edge.

I spent a few days recovering. I spent time with my family in Seattle. I spent some time in nature. I rode my bike a little bit. I basically just did things that felt good and didn't require a lot of effort. My body healed fast. Soon it would be totally healed and ready for its next mission.

My next mission came six days after the incident in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest. It was a simple mission, go into a certain coffee shop in a nearby suburb and act like a crazy person. Nobody ever told me why I was supposed to do this, just what I was supposed to do. If people tell me to go on a mission, I always wait for them to tell me why. I never ask why myself, and in this situation they didn't tell me.

I looked for the coffee shop worker that they had described. I soon spotted him. He was short, fat, and had a halo of hair over an otherwise bald head. I went up to him and asked him the question I was assigned to ask. "Excuse me, but how much money does it take to buy a quacky duck here?"

I was greeted by silence at first, and then a mad expression on the face of the worker. He looked mad. Had I said something wrong? Or was I doing it just right? It was hard to know.

"I will KILL YOU!" said the coffee shop worker. And he grabbed a broom off the shelf and ran at me. The people at the coffee shop were stunned into motionlessness. They had probably never seen anything like this before.

I ran like the wind, sure that the fat guy wouldn't be able to catch up with me. But the fat guy was fast, and fueled by rage. I wondered what the hell I had said to the guy to make him like this. I was beginning to lose him, but he was still running toward me.

I then remembered what I was supposed to do next. I turned to the man and shouted, "MOO! MOO! MOOOOOOOO!"

The man gave me the finger, and then hit me with the broom. Hard. My vision turned blurry, and I fell to the ground, my head hitting the pavement. Blackout.

I woke up in that same room, again. One of the things I hated about my job was how many times I ended up here. I let out a weak laugh. "Was the mission a success? Whatever it was."

"Yes," said the nurse. "You performed beautifully. You may have even stopped an underground meth lab."

I smiled. You see, this is one of the reasons it's good that MAIC is a private corporation is that we don't have to worry about regulations and restrictions on government. It's totally ok that we can go in and act all crazy and shut down a meth lab.

"You're not seriously injured," said the nurse. "Not really injured at all. Just a pretty nasty bruise on your head."

"Well good," I said. "I'll take a few days off, come back, and be fully ready for the next mission."

The nurse grimaced. "Well, that's the thing. You are needed on something far more urgent than any meth lab or even dirty bomb."

"What? Did they tell you what the mission is?"

"Yes," said the nurse. "You see, we believe there is corruption in the New York City police. Violent crime has skyrocketed. Murders, rapes, they've all skyrocketed. Just in the last month. What MAIC is going to do is place hidden cameras in police stations all around the country, and see if they respond to the call of duty."

"So we'll do something like, maybe, steal something? And see what they do?"

The nurse looked at me with a sad smile. "They instructed me not to tell you."

I didn't ask. I never asked. I didn't want to get fired. But when I heard the nurse say this, I began to get a feeling of unease. It started off mild. When it first appeared, I didn't know exactly what was causing it. But something told me that this wouldn't be my average mission.

The next day, I was sitting first class on Virgin Air, drinking a coke and relaxing in my comfortable seats. I was always paid for by MAIC. They always had a lot of money because they were sponsored by government and commercial organizations.

The plane landed in John F. Kennedy International Airport. After I navigated the sprawling mess that was the airport, I hailed a cab and guided it to my destination. My destination was the top of a relatively small skyscraper above a plaza, where there was some kind of rally going on. I would be contacted via walkie talkie by a nearby MAIC worker.

I took the elevator to the top of this skyscraper. My stomach began to churn. I had been assigned to bring a gun on this mission; I hoped to god I wouldn't have to shoot anybody.

The Military Aid and Intelligence Center is a friendly corporation. Its mission is good and peace in the world. I, Lorenzo Smith, work with MAIC, and therefore my mission is the same.

I had to keep reminding myself this as I walked out onto the observation deck of the skyscraper and peered over the edge, looking down at the demonstration. It was some sort of union rally, some lazy jerk-offs thinking it was ok to quit their job and cause a major inconvenience. Didn't they have any pride?

I spoke into the walkie talkie. "Beta-7, this is your Distractor-In-Chief, ready for the mission whenever you are."

"Ok," said Beta-7, the nearby MAIC worker. "Here it is. Your mission is to shoot into this crowd and..." I didn't hear the rest of that sentence. All I knew was that my worst fears had been confirmed, and beyond. "We'll see if the police respond, and if they do then our mission is complete."

I looked over the railing at the demonstrating crowd below. They asked me to bring a semi-automatic machine gun on this mission. How could I be so blind? What other use could I have for it than causing a massacre in the name of the twisted desires of the Military Aid and Intelligence Center.

I fired. I heard the din of the gun first, and then the sound of the window of a nearby shop exploding, sending shards of glass onto the crowd of people. People screamed. There was chaos in the streets. And this was when I realized that I was doing the wrong thing.

I waited for the panic to die down. Gradually, it did, and they all looked up to see me, the assailant, standing atop the skyscraper. "May I get your attention?" I shouted. I was greeted mostly by stunned silence.

"Good. I was sent here by the Military Aid and Intelligence Center. I was sent here to kill you all." I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what I was about to do.

"What the hell, man?" asked Beta-7 over the walkie-talkie. "This was never part of the plan."

"I was sent here as part of a grand plan to expose police corruption in this city that probably doesn't exist in the first place. And all of you are pawns in this plan."

"Dude, you're going to far. Stop it, man," said Beta-7.

I felt a lump rising in my throat. Not because I was about to cry, but because I was about to do something that I never thought I would do. "I urge you all to not go along with the plans of MAIC. Or any other organization at all. Don't do things just because you are told to do them."

A police car rumbled down the street. This was the final proof I needed that the police were not corrupt. The spike in crime was just a spike.

I jumped over the railing, falling, falling, falling. I hit the ground with a thud.

Blackout.