[ EU ] Not every 00-agent gets to lead a life of beautiful cars and fast women . Tell the story of an agent assigned one of the unglamorous 00 numbers .

They call him double-O Zero. It is as stupid as it sounds. Why not Tri-Zed or Triple-Zip? 
 
 Possibly one of the most important jobs in any intelligence agency was dis-information. The field gents never had to slog through the shit because people like Ned existed. 
 
 He worked for what had once been an American intelligence branch. Over the years so many double and triple agents had infiltrated that no one worried about who was paying what. 
 
 Stationed on an ocean bed in a facility that intercepted and injected data into several transoceanic fiber lines. 
 
 People here were responsible for creating and tracking the disinformation. Everyone had at least two bosses from agencies that were working against each other. They all watched each other as much as the information of outside agencies. 
 
 You would think that meant there were no friends here, no relationships. You'd be wrong. Half the drama was based on physical relationships. 
 
 The work was the most exciting in the world. Games upon games upon lies, upon half truths. Every comment a move, every keystroke a decision. 
 
 A bloodless war was fought at the keyboards here every shift, their decisions having real world consequences, real blood being spilled. 
 
 During shift it was great, Ned felt like he mattered like he was in control. At shifts end he made his way to the rec rooms and kept in shape then to the local bar, more a hook-up location than drinking establishment. Most nights you could pair up if you wanted, and while the sex was a great release there was no meaning in it. 
 
 He could n't have said when he stopped feeling like a human and started feeling like a machine but it was some time ago. While he still loved the game, the rest was a blur. He wondered from time to time about suicide, or if this was how prisoners felt. He made it a game at his quarterly reviews to trick the shrinks he spoke to thousands of miles away, until he understood their bosses did n't care until his work stopped producing. 
 
 He wondered tonight as he often if he made a mistake. But as he analyzed data he came to the conclusion that while his prison was smaller, all the double-O's were in the same situation. Duty in the place of life. None of them were every really living. It was why then never really retired. They became villains, or died, or killed themselves and had people like Ned change their histories to some brave and selfless final stand. 
 
 He turned the light out and stared at the ceiling waiting for the indifference of sleep to pull him down.
