The debriefing took place in a conference room that looked more like a corporate boardroom than anything from the spy movies. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of Tokyo Bay, and the coffee was surprisingly excellent. It was, Kenji reflected, the most civilized interrogation of his career.
Across the polished table sat Director Yamamoto and three other officials whose titles were classified above Kenji's clearance level. To his left sat Sato, her professional demeanor intact despite the remarkable events of the past week. And around the rest of the table, looking profoundly out of place in their borrowed civilian clothes, sat the Grounders.
Miyuki had her hands folded neatly in her lap, her expression serene. Haruto kept glancing at the windows as if calculating escape routes out of habit. Ricco was sketching in a notebook, his hands needing the familiar motion to stay calm. Pops was eyeing the electronic equipment in the room with professional interest, probably cataloging vulnerabilities.
"Let me see if I understand this correctly," Director Yamamoto said, consulting a thick file. "A global conspiracy to distribute mind-control agents was defeated by..." He flipped through pages. "Weaponized cleaning supplies, theatrical smoke machines, bureaucratic paperwork, and a livestreaming teenager?"
"That's an accurate summary, sir," Kenji replied.
"And the key intelligence breakthrough came from a circus janitor who noticed that juggling pins felt too light?"
"Kenji has always been observant," Sato added diplomatically.
Director Yamamoto set down the file and leaned back in his chair. "Agent Takahashi, in twenty-five years of intelligence work, I have never read a report like this. It reads less like an operational summary and more like a work of experimental fiction."
"The methods were unconventional, sir, but the results speak for themselves."
"Indeed they do." Yamamoto's expression grew serious. "Ouroboros has been completely dismantled. Their leadership is in custody, their distribution network has been rolled up, and their research has been secured. It's the most successful counterintelligence operation in recent memory."
He turned to address the Grounders directly. "Which brings me to why you're all here. According to Agent Takahashi's report, this success was only possible because of your unique contributions."
Miyuki inclined her head slightly. "We were protecting our family."
"Your family?"
"The circus," Haruto explained. "It's not just a job. It's... home. When someone threatens home, you fight back."
Director Yamamoto nodded slowly. "That loyalty is exactly why I wanted to meet with you. The intelligence community is changing. The threats we face are no longer just nation-states and terrorist organizations. They're ideological movements, conspiracy networks, groups that hide in plain sight among ordinary citizens."
He stood and walked to the window, looking out at the bustling city below. "To combat these threats, we need operatives who can blend seamlessly into civilian life. People who understand how ordinary society works because they are part of it."
Pops spoke up from the corner. "You offering us jobs?"
"I'm offering you a choice," Yamamoto replied. "You can return to your normal lives, with our gratitude and a modest compensation package. Or..." He turned back to face them. "You can join a new division that Agent Takahashi will be heading. A unit specialized in unconventional operations."
"What would that involve?" Ricco asked, looking up from his sketching.
"Exactly what you've been doing," Sato said. "Using your civilian skills and knowledge to solve problems that traditional agents can't handle. You'd receive training, resources, and official cover identities, but your greatest asset would remain being underestimated."
The room was quiet as the Grounders considered the offer. These weren't professional soldiers or career spies. They were ordinary people who had been thrust into extraordinary circumstances.
"There would be risks," Director Yamamoto continued honestly. "The work would be dangerous. You'd be targets for people who don't play by civilized rules."
"We're already targets," Haruto pointed out. "Anyone who got that close to Ouroboros is probably on somebody's list."
"And besides," Miyuki added quietly, "who else is going to clean up these messes?"
One by one, they accepted. Not because they wanted to be spies, but because they understood that someone had to stand between the innocent and those who would harm them.
The paperwork took hours. Background checks, security clearances, medical examinations—the machinery of bureaucracy grinding through the process of transforming circus workers into intelligence assets.
As the sun set over Tokyo, Kenji found himself alone in the conference room with Sato and Director Yamamoto.
"Are you sure about this?" Yamamoto asked. "Leading a unit of civilians is very different from traditional operations."
"They're not civilians anymore," Kenji replied. "They're family. And that makes them the most dangerous operatives I've ever worked with."
"How so?"
Kenji thought about Miyuki's quiet determination, Haruto's bitter wisdom, Ricco's hard-won courage. "Because they're not fighting for ideology or orders or career advancement. They're fighting because it's right. Because someone has to. That's the kind of motivation you can't train, can't buy, and can't fake."
Director Yamamoto was quiet for a long moment. "The Division of Unconventional Operations," he said finally. "That will be your official designation. You'll have resources, authority, and complete operational autonomy. Use them wisely."
As they left the government building, Kenji walked with his new team through the neon-lit streets of Tokyo. They looked like any other group of friends heading home after a long day—a cleaning lady, a feed handler, a rigger, an electrician, and two office workers.
No one would ever suspect that they were the most effective counterintelligence unit in the Pacific Rim.
"So," Haruto said, lighting a cigarette as they waited for the train, "what do we do now?"
"Now we go home," Kenji replied. "We rest, we train, and we wait for the next threat to emerge."
"And if it doesn't?" Ricco asked.
Kenji smiled, looking at the faces of his strange, wonderful, utterly unconventional family. "Oh, it will. There's always another conspiracy, another group that thinks they know better than everyone else. And when they surface..."
"We'll be ready," Miyuki finished quietly. "The floor will be clean."