The shredder hummed as it consumed six months of operational records.
William fed documents into the machine methodically—rental agreements, utility bills, the carefully maintained paper trail of a security consultant living a quiet life in Amsterdam. Each page became confetti, joining the pile that would be burned in the apartment's fireplace before he left.
[OPERATIONAL STATUS: Restructuring in progress]
[ACTION: Burning Amsterdam infrastructure]
[ASSESSMENT: Asset network will be reduced 70%. Recommend rebuilding through Providence channels.]
The apartment had been home for six months. The view of the canal. The coffee shop on the corner where the barista knew his order. The morning routine of checking the encrypted channels while Dutch rain streaked the windows. All of it—burned, abandoned, erased.
"47 is searching for a man who operates from Amsterdam. I need to be a man who doesn't exist in Amsterdam."
[EVASION STRATEGY: Geographic relocation]
[NEW BASE: Lisbon (Providence safe house available)]
[ADVANTAGES: No operational history, new patterns, Southern Europe reduces overlap with ICA Northern Europe focus]
[DISADVANTAGES: Reduced infrastructure, lost contacts, rebuilding required]
The laptop went through a military-grade wipe—seven passes, zeros and ones scrambled beyond recovery. The burner phones were disassembled, SIM cards melted with a lighter. The safe behind the bookshelf yielded its contents: the Engström USB (going with him), the IAGO backup drive (going with him), three thousand euros in cash (going with him), and a photograph of the Amsterdam canal at sunset (staying—too personal, too traceable in its own way).
[DIGITAL SANITIZATION: Complete]
[PHYSICAL EVIDENCE: Removed]
[DNA TRACE: Bleach protocol initiated]
William worked through the afternoon, systematic and thorough. Counter-Surveillance pinged once—a neighbor walking past the door, nothing threatening. The new ability was proving useful already, even in mundane contexts.
Jansen arrived at the café at 7 PM, punctual as always.
The meeting was in the Jordaan district, far from William's apartment, in a place they'd used once before for a quick handoff. Jansen settled into the booth with his usual economy of movement, ordered coffee, and waited for William to speak first.
"This is our last meeting."
Jansen's expression didn't change. He'd been in the intelligence business long enough to recognize an ending when he saw one. "Operational?"
"Personal. Someone's looking for me. If they trace my intelligence sources, they'll find you."
"ICA?"
William didn't answer, which was answer enough.
Jansen took a slow sip of his coffee. "The envelope under your arm—that's my severance?"
"Severance and silence. Thirty thousand euros." William slid the envelope across the table. "You disappear into whatever network you maintain when you're not working for me. You forget you ever heard the name William Green."
"I never knew the name William Green." Jansen opened the envelope, thumbed the bills without counting them, and nodded. "This is generous."
"You provided good service."
"I provided excellent service." A ghost of a smile. "You paid for good. The difference between good and excellent is why I'm taking your money and not asking questions."
[ASSET STATUS: Jansen]
[RELATIONSHIP: Terminated]
[SECURITY ASSESSMENT: Jansen's professional discretion is reliable. Silence probability: 95%+]
[CONSEQUENCE: ICA intelligence feed lost. Real-time updates no longer available.]
William stood. "If anyone asks about a security consultant from Amsterdam—"
"I spent the winter in Morocco." Jansen tucked the envelope into his jacket. "Never heard of Amsterdam. Terrible city. Too much rain."
They didn't shake hands. Jansen finished his coffee, left through the front, and vanished into the Amsterdam evening like he'd never existed. William left through the kitchen, Counter-Surveillance confirming no surveillance in the alley, and made his way back to the apartment for the final preparations.
The apartment was clean by midnight.
William stood in the doorway, scanning the space one final time. Six months of life, reduced to bare walls and the lingering smell of bleach. The shredded documents had burned to ash in the fireplace. The furniture was rental—nothing to trace. The neighbors would notice the quiet tenant had moved out, but quiet tenants moved all the time.
[AMSTERDAM SAFEHOUSE: Abandoned]
[OPERATIONAL HISTORY: Erased]
[NEXT STEP: Lisbon relocation]
Before he left, William retrieved the envelope from under the doormat—500 euros, unsigned, for the cleaner who came twice a week. She'd been kind to the tenant she never really knew. Left fresh flowers on the table sometimes. Commented once that the apartment always smelled too clean, like the man who lived there didn't actually live anywhere.
The system didn't log tips. The system didn't understand why someone halfway to the Void would leave money for a stranger.
[OBSERVATION: User leaving non-strategic resources for non-asset]
[ASSESSMENT: Inefficient allocation]
[NOTE: Logged but not penalized]
William closed the door behind him and walked away from Amsterdam without looking back.
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