The Man in the Iron Mask

My fingertips ran along the edges of the large yellow envelope I’d been handed, the one I was told I would be given. I flipped it back over again, reading the small print at the very bottom.

Confidential.

A select few had been chosen for this task. Of course, most of them had been professionals. I was merely a carer in a large building full of intelligent people, most of whom I admired in one way or another. They had been given the same envelopes, I’d been told. It would contain the patient’s medical and criminal records, as well as photo identification. I pressed my thumb beneath the sticky tab and pulled it up, ripping it open and finding what was inside. I wasn’t used to receiving information like this, but I had expected more.

Inside was a single sheet of paper, with only what seemed the bare essentials about this patient. I studied the photograph at the top until I was sure I would remember the face, and then began to read. I knew I would have to destroy everything once I was done. This had been made a big deal by the man in the black suit that had handed it to me. I’d since forgotten his name, but was sure it wouldn’t be the last I’d see of him.

My eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as I again looked to the photograph once I was finished. I remembered the tragedy that had occurred in New York City a few years ago as well as anyone else did, though I’d only seen it through screens and read about it in the papers. It had been hard to believe at first that aliens were firstly, out there and secondly, merciless killers. This man had been at the centre of it all. We were told he’d been killed along with everything else horrifying that day. I took a moment to remember that not everything the government told us was the solid truth.

I reread everything once more figuring that it would all be pretty self-explanatory as it usually was, anyway, before I stuffed the paper back into the envelope and ran it through the office shredder. I tried to then recall what I had been told just days ago about the specific requirements for this case. Nothing was to be talked about, not even with the other staff. If I had a concern, it would be directed towards SHIELD, whose contact details I’d already scribbled down at home. The condition of the case that bothered me the most, however, was not the high level of security, or even the person I was caring for. I hadn’t liked the way they’d said to me as they turned around at the doorway…

The patient is to remain silenced at all times.