[ WP ] You are a time travelling agent , and you need to stop a nuclear war without killing anyone .

Hello Director. 
 The man looked up in surprise. He was sitting, reading a newspaper at a starbucks while waiting for a colleague. He was n't expecting to be greeted by anyone else, much less a woman in what looked like a ridiculous getup that was a cross between an army uniform, and something straight out of a science fiction movie. 
 
 I'm sorry, but, who are you? The Director asked. The woman looked on pensively. Who I am, is not so much as what I am, she said, pulling out a small wad of dollar bills. Can you identify these? She asked. The director did a once over and then looked up sharply. Where did you get these? He asked. You have some nerve coming here, and trying to pass counterfeit money. I am going to have to put you under arrest. 
 
 They're not fake. The woman said. Look for the watermark. The Director held up the bills in the light of the morning sun. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cool breeze and the chirping birds went down his spine. He turned to the woman, a grim curious resolution in his voice. Who are you? Clearly, this is an elaborate joke... or... 
 
 Yes. The woman responded. This is not a joke. Those are real bills. And of all the evidence that would persuade you, these were the ones. The director looked at her in confusion and disbelief. The date on those bills... 2024. Director, if you would take my hand? The director reached out and grabbed hold of her, and suddenly they were elsewhere. Or... elsewhen. The shop was looking out over the blasted remains of washington DC. A massive crater remained along with the telltale marks of nuclear fire. 
 
 Director, I do not have much time, so I will make this brief. This is the consequences of one of your actions. The director gulped. This is the year 2050. But... how? He asked. Director, This will probably be one of the most difficult choices in your career, but in order to prevent this, you will have to break your oath of justice... three times. You will have to enable the destruction the campaign of an innocent man to become president. You will have to enable a criminal. You will have to let treason continue, unabated. You will then have to arrest the president of the united states at just the right time. 
 
 If you do not, director. When the nuclear bombs land in japan, the woman said with unease, the wrong man will be in the white house. She looked over her shoulder. Then the american nuclear missiles will rise. And then the chinese. And then the indian. And soon all people will have left is a few scattered countries, and our earth will be ruined. Here is what you can do. She handed the Director a dog eared file full of newspaper clippings, and handwritten notes. It's in your hands now, the fate of the world rests with you, and I am out of time. Goodbye... Grandfather. 
 
 The Director found himself suddenly thrust back, as if he were on giant rubber band snapping back through time, and he crashed into his seat, knocking his coffee over his morning papers. And the file. There were no newspaper clippings, but now only a few notes. He looked through them, his head spinning. He had an indictment to put on hold if this was true. And then, he saw a photograph, of himself, far older, holding a small girl. On the back, was a single note ~Olivia and Grampa Comey.
