The 2016 Tokyo Smuggling Case

8:30 am, the bright morning sun streamed through the glass windows of the CIA higher-ups’ headquarters back home. The exhaustion of the long flight across the Pacific was completely gone, replaced by a triumphant march as Xavier, Bailey, and Kyle walked down the pristine executive hallway.

Xavier pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the main briefing room, stepping inside with his team right behind him.

The head chief of the higher-ups, Roger Jackson, looked up from his desk in surprise. Before he could even say a word, Xavier stepped forward and slammed the thick, decrypted Tokyo smuggling files flat onto the wooden table with a loud, echoey bang.

Roger startled in his seat, staring at the massive stack of paperwork containing the data on the global weapon trades, the chemical synthetic logs, and the full signed confession from Kenji.

‘What is this, Captain?’ Roger asked, blinking in shock as he looked from the files to the three agents.

‘Case closed, sir,’ Xavier said, his voice dropping into his calm, authoritative Captain tone. ‘The Tokyo smuggling ring has been completely dismantled by local authorities. And we found your mole.’

Roger rapidly flipped open the folder, his eyes widening in absolute disbelief as he read the name printed across the top of the arrest manifest: Commander Roxie Faye. He leaned back in his leather chair, staring at the paperwork for a long moment before slowly looking back up at Xavier, Bailey, and Kyle.

A rare, highly impressed smile broke across the chief’s strict face. He nodded slowly, tapping his knuckles against the desk.‘I have to admit, Jones… I’m genuinely impressed,’ Roger said, his booming voice full of real respect. ‘Every single unit commander in that room passed on this assignment because they thought it was a death trap. You took it with zero hesitation, survived a targeted manifest leak, and brought down one of our own elite department heads without a single mistake. Incredible work, Unit Seven.’

Kyle puffed out his chest proudly, leaning over the desk with a smirk. ‘Yeah, well, Chief, it wasn’t easy. We had to endure narrow ventilation shafts, high-altitude tactical drops, and some seriously emotional heartbreak from the suspect. I basically neutralized the ringleader single-handedly.’

Bailey coughed loudly into her fist, giving Kyle a sharp, deadpan side-eye that instantly reminded him of her tactical slipper.

Kyle quickly cleared his throat and stepped back, tucking his 2016 laptop under his arm. ‘I mean… it was a team effort, sir. Total team effort.’

Kyle dramatically spread himself face-down across the entire length of the main couch, groaning as if he had survived a war. ‘Bails, my body is officially shutting down. If anyone needs me, I am in a legal coma for the next forty-eight hours.’

Bailey sat on the armchair across from him, opening a fresh package of snacks. ‘Get your dirty boots off the cushions, Kyle. And turn down that posture, you look like a deflated balloon.’

‘My posture is broken, Bails! Just like my heart!’ Kyle wailed into a couch pillow. ‘But hey, at least I saved Tokyo with a flying footwear strike. I should honestly get a medal for tactical slipper defense.’

Bailey stopped chewing, a slow, dangerous smirk crossing her face as she reached back into her gear bag. ‘Oh, you want a medal? Let me get my extra slipper out. I can award it to your forehead right now.’

Kyle squeaked in terror, instantly rolling off the couch and hiding completely behind a decorative armchair. ‘No! No more awards! I’m resting! See? Peaceful, quiet tech agent!’

While on the other hand, Xavier walked right past the noisy lounge, shaking his head with an amused smirk as he headed toward the outdoor training grounds. He stepped onto the tarmac, watching his younger brother, Michael, who was still aggressively drilling the exhausted new recruits back and forth across the field.

Xavier walked up quietly behind him and lightly tapped Michael’s shoulder.

Michael whipped his head around, his face flushed with irritation. He fully thought it was just another new recruit whining that they needed a frickin’ break after he had already told them five times no.

‘I told you, you have five more laps to—’ Michael started to bark out.

But his voice cut off instantly. He gasped, his eyes widening in total shock as he saw Xavier standing right there in his tactical vest, safe and sound.

The strict military Sergeant completely vanished. Michael threw his clipboard to the ground, lunged forward, and hugged his older brother tightly. He squeezed him with everything he had, breathing a massive sigh of relief that Xavier was actually alive and had made it back from Japan in one piece.

Xavier chuckled softly, hugging him back with a steady, reassuring grip. He looked past Michael’s shoulder at the glowing afternoon sky over the headquarters. The mole was caught, the city of Tokyo was safe, and most importantly, his family was still whole.

The case was officially closed.

Michael slowly let go of the hug, clearing his throat as his strict military stance returned, though his voice was still filled with dramatic energy.

‘Man, you have no idea how lonely it was here while you were gone!’ Michael started ranting, waving his hands around. ‘I had to stay on this tarmac for hours just keeping an eye on these useless—HEY! NUMBER FORTY-TWO! I SEE YOU SLOWING DOWN! KNEES UP OR IT’S TEN MORE LAPS!’ Michael suddenly roared, his booming voice cutting off his own sentence as his sharp eyes caught a recruit trying to lag behind.

Michael turned back to Xavier, his face instantly dropping back into a casual, complaining brotherly expression. ‘Anyway, like I was saying, it was completely boring. I had nobody to talk to, and these new guys don’t even know how to run a proper drill without—YOU IN THE BACK! DID I SAY YOU COULD LEAN AGAINST THE FENCE?! GET MOVING!’

Michael snapped his head back toward the field, his hyper-focused eyes catching another recruit trying to sneak a two-second breather. He blew his whistle aggressively.

Xavier just stood there, crossing his arms as a wide, amused smirk crossed his face. He watched his younger brother effortlessly balance a high-octane military training session with a dramatic family rant. Some things never changed.

Michael snapped his whistle again, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the back of the jogging line. ‘Wait a minute… who is that dork in the hoodie? He’s not wearing a uniform!’

Xavier squinted at the recruits, and his jaw nearly dropped. Secretly, Kyle had snuck onto the field and joined the back of the new recruits’ running line, desperately trying to blend in so Bailey wouldn’t find him with her slipper. But he was running hilariously—his arms were flailing wildly, his knees were barely lifting, and his heavy 2016 tactical laptop case was bouncing violently against his hip with every awkward step. He was completely out of breath, wheezing as he tried to keep pace with the trained soldiers.

‘I’m one of you guys!’ Kyle panted to a confused recruit next to him. ‘Just keep jogging… the slipper can’t get us if we stay in formation…’

Xavier let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his temples. ‘I’ll go get him.’

Xavier walked out onto the tarmac, marching right into the middle of the drill line. He reached out, grabbed the hood of Kyle’s jacket, and physically dragged Kyle out from the running pack, pulling him backward across the asphalt.

‘Hey! Captain! Let me stay in the line! It’s tactical camouflage!’ Kyle yelled dramatically, his sneakers scraping against the ground as Xavier effortlessly hauled him away.

‘You’re disrupting my brother’s training session, Kyle,’ Xavier deadpanned, dropping him by the collar onto the sidelines. ‘And you look ridiculous.’

Michael marched over, crossing his arms and glaring down at the exhausted tech agent. ‘Jones, is this the guy who supposedly saved Tokyo? He looks like a malfunctioning wind turbine when he jogs.’

Five minutes later, Kyle somehow managed to convince Bailey to join in on the chaos. Having safely left his thick 2016 tactical laptop on the desk inside the staff lounge, the two agents snuck back onto the field.

For pure fun, Kyle and Bailey joined the run right at the back of the formation. They were running hilariously—Kyle was skipping sideways like a crab while waving his arms, and Bailey was intentionally jogging in an overly dramatic, exaggerated military march just to mock the drill. The new recruits were trying their absolute best not to laugh out loud as the two CIA operatives completely ruined the rhythm of the exercise.

They thought they were being completely stealthy, until Michael caught them.

Michael’s very good eyes snapped directly to the back of the line, his face twisting into pure, bewildered irritation. He marched right to the edge of the tarmac and blew his whistle so loudly it practically pierced the air.

TWEEEEEEET!

‘HALT! FREEZE RIGHT THERE!’ Michael roared, pointing a strict finger at the two dorky agents.

Kyle and Bailey instantly froze mid-stride, Kyle balancing awkwardly on one foot while Bailey dropped her hands to her sides, trying to look completely innocent.

Michael marched over, crossing his arms as he glared down at them. ‘What do you two think you are doing on my tarmac?! You are elite field operatives, not a pair of toddlers at a playground! Get off my field before I make you both run twenty laps in full tactical gear!’

Kyle quickly pointed at Bailey. ‘She started it, Sergeant!’

‘Did not, birdbrain!’ Bailey snapped back, giving him a hard nudge.

Xavier just stood on the sidelines, leaning against the fence with a rare, bright laugh shaking his shoulders. Watching his chaotic unit completely derail his brother’s military training session was the perfect homecoming.

Xavier walked over to the edge of the field, but paused when he noticed one young recruit sitting alone on a bench, staring down at his boots in total frustration.

Xavier stepped up and tapped the young agent’s shoulder. The recruit looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he realized a Captain was standing over him.

‘Listen to me,’ Xavier said softly, leaning in close so Michael wouldn’t hear him from across the tarmac. ‘I’m going to give you two pieces of advice. First, the trick to dealing with Sergeant Michael when he’s in a bad mood is simple: if you see him marching toward you to yell, immediately point behind him and shout that there’s a loose tactical drone on the radar. It tricks him every single time. It worked for me at home when we were kids, and it still works on him today.’

The recruit blinked in utter shock, his mouth opening as he tried not to burst out laughing at the Captain’s childhood secret.

Xavier’s face then went serious, his voice dropping into his calm, encouraging Captain tone for the second piece of advice. ‘And second, the real advice: keep your chin up. Michael is tough on you guys because the field doesn’t give second chances. Focus on your footing, pacing your breath, and don’t let the fatigue get into your head. You’ll get through it.’

The recruit stood up straight, a newfound wave of confidence hitting his face as he saluted. ‘Yes, sir. Thank you, Captain!’

Xavier offered a small, reassuring nod, a smirk playing on his lips as he turned around and walked back inside the cool headquarters building.

Michael’s POV

Two hours later, the brief respite was over. Michael marched back out onto the concrete tarmac, his whistle firmly gripped between his teeth as he scanned the line of resting recruits. He blew it sharply, the shrill noise instantly shattering the quiet afternoon.

‘Alright, break time is officially over!’ Michael roared, crossing his arms strictly. ‘Back in formation! Line up, or I’m adding five extra miles to your afternoon run!’

The recruits scrambled to their feet, groaning as they shuffled into their lines. Michael’s very good eyes locked onto the back of the pack, noticing the young recruit Xavier had spoken to earlier. The kid was moving just a little bit too slow. Michael’s brow furrowed, and he began stomping directly toward the young agent to give him a piece of his mind.

‘You there! Why are your boots not laced properly?!’ Michael barked aggressively, getting closer. ‘In the field, a loose lace is a—’

Suddenly, the young recruit looked past Michael’s shoulder, his eyes widening in fake panic as he pointed a finger toward the main building. ‘Sergeant! Look! There’s a loose tactical drone on the radar grid right above the hangar!’

Michael instantly froze mid-sentence. His strict military brain short-circuited at the mention of a protocol breach, and he whipped his head around frantically, his eyes darting across the empty afternoon sky. ‘Where?! What hangar?! Activate the defensive protocols—’

Michael stopped. The sky was completely empty. There wasn’t a single drone in sight.

Slowly, the realization hit him. Michael narrowed his eyes, a sudden memory from his childhood apartment flashing in his head of a ten-year-old Xavier pulling the exact same ridiculous stunt to steal his dessert. Michael slowly turned his head back around, his face a mixture of pure bewilderment and utter betrayal.

The young recruit was now standing perfectly in formation, chewing his lip frantically to stop himself from bursting into hysterical laughter.

Michael clamped his mouth shut, inhaling a deep breath as he muttered to himself under his breath. ‘Xavier… you absolute bastard. I’m going to kill you.’

The young recruit quickly tried to fix his posture, staring straight ahead as his shoulders shook from trying not to laugh.

Michael aggressively pointed a finger back toward the running track. ‘Since you have time to look for imaginary radar breaches, recruit, you just earned yourself twenty extra laps! Move it!’

‘Yes, Sergeant!’ the recruit squeaked, instantly turning on his heel and sprinting down the lane at maximum speed.

Michael didn’t stay on the tarmac to watch them. He threw his whistle down onto his clipboard, spun around, and marched toward the main headquarters building with heavy, furious strides. His boots clicked loudly against the concrete as he burst through the double glass doors, heading straight down the hallway toward the staff lounge. He was going to get his revenge on Xavier right now.

He slammed the door to the lounge open, expecting his older brother, but instead encountered Kyle and Bailey.his face flushed with fury as he marched inside. He didn’t see his older brother anywhere. Instead, he found Kyle sprawled out across the couch and Bailey calmly eating her snacks in the armchair.

‘Where is Xavier?!’ Michael demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at them. ‘He’s dead. The second I find him, he is literally a dead man.’

Kyle squeaked, scrambling to sit up and pulling his 2016 tactical laptop in front of his chest like a shield. ‘Whoa, chill, Sergeant! What did the Captain even do?!’

Bailey didn’t even blink. She slowly set her snack down, a deadpan, traitorous smirk crossing her face as she decided to rat Xavier out without a single second of hesitation.

‘He went down to the secure archives on the lower level,’ Bailey said smoothly, pointing a finger toward the hallway elevator. ’He mentioned something about filling out the final mission reports, but honestly, he’s probably just hiding from you. ‘Bailey! Bro, why did you rat him out so fast?!’ Kyle gasped, his jaw dropping at her total lack of loyalty. ‘Where is the team solidarity?!’

‘Team solidarity doesn’t apply to sibling rivalries, Kyle,’ Bailey deadpanned, picking her snack back up. ‘Besides, Xavier made fun of us on the server floor. He deserves whatever Michael is about to do to him.’

Michael let out a dark, satisfied growl. ‘The archives. Perfect.’

He spun on his heel and marched right back out of the lounge, slamming the door behind him as he headed for the elevator to hunt down his older brother.

Michael ripped the elevator door open, stepping out into the cold, quiet basement archives. The room was massive, packed with rows of heavy steel shelving holding decades of classified CIA case files. The only light came from a single green desk lamp at the very back of the room.

Michael marched down the aisle, his boots clicking heavily against the concrete floor. He rounded the final shelf, his face locked in a look of pure, brotherly vengeance.

‘Xavier!’ Michael barked, crossing his arms.

Xavier didn’t even look up from the folder he was reading at the desk. He calmly flipped a page, his signature serious expression completely locked in place, though a tiny, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He had his prototype chemical scanner sitting right next to his elbow, completely expecting his little brother to show up furious.

‘You’re late, Sergeant,’ Xavier said in his calm, dropping Captain tone. ‘I expected you down here five minutes ago. Did the recruits slow you down?’

‘Don’t give me that, Captain!’ Michael yelled dramatically, slamming his hands onto the desk. ‘You told a new recruit to pull the loose tactical drone trick on me! On my own tarmac! Do you have any idea how ridiculous I looked searching the empty sky in front of the whole unit?!’

Xavier finally closed the folder, looking up at him with a calm shrug. ‘It worked on you when you were ten years old, Michael, And i was twelve. I was just testing to see if your field awareness had improved over the last fourteen years. Clearly, it hasn’t.’

‘That was fourteen years ago! And you used it to steal my leftover birthday cake!’ Michael complained loudly, his hands waving in the air.

Xavier offered a rare, warm smile, nodding as he patted Michael’s hand on his shoulder. ‘Thanks, little bro. It’s good to be home.’

Suddenly, the green lamp on the desk flickered.

A sharp, digital chime cut through the quiet basement archives. Xavier’s small 2016 phone vibrated violently against the wooden tabletop. At the exact same fraction of a second, the heavy steel security speakers mounted in the corners of the ceiling buzzed to life with a loud, mechanical hum.

ALERT: UNIT SEVEN. UNIDENTIFIED NETWORK BREACH DETECTED.

Xavier’s smile vanished instantly. He grabbed his phone, his fingers flipping the device open as a line of bright red, encrypted text began scrolling across the low-resolution screen.

Michael leaned forward, his military posture instantly locking back into place as his sharp eyes tracked the text. ‘Xavier… what is that? Is that a leftover signal from Roxie’s group?’

‘No,’ Xavier said, his eyes narrowing in the dim green light as he read the code. His voice dropped into a freezing, razor-sharp Captain tone. ‘The encryption algorithm is entirely different. It’s too clean. Too advanced.’

He stared at the coordinates flashing on his phone screen. The digital map was locking down on a restricted sector hidden deep within the frozen mountains of Canada. But the scariest part wasn’t the location—it was the signature. The breach was being executed by a mysterious, highly organized fictional syndicate that operated with the exact same black-budget tactics, satellite grids, and shadow clearance as a real-life global intelligence agency.

Xavier gripped the phone tightly, his jaw locking as he looked up at his brother.

‘It’s a new case,’ Xavier whispered grimly. ‘We aren’t dealing with local smugglers anymore, Michael. Someone just launched a shadow network that rivals our own. And they just targeted our grid.’

Before Michael could even respond, the heavy steel doors of the archive room clicked, unlocking automatically as the emergency red lights began to pulse in the hallway outside.

Unit Seven’s break was officially over.

to be continued in book 2........