Day 1 - Monday, 7:00 AM
Amanda Foster's alarm went off at 6:00 AM. She was at her desk by 6:45, coffee in hand, ready to begin her first official day as the person responsible for making sure the US government didn't accidentally arrest an immortal soldier.
No pressure.
She pulled up the monitoring system. Three screens, multiple feeds, all designed to track intersections between Perseus Jackson and ongoing intelligence operations.
Current location: Perseus Jackson's apartment, Manhattan.
She felt weird about this. Not quite surveillance, but close enough to make her uncomfortable. The briefing had been clear—they weren't watching him constantly, just monitoring for situations that might cause problems.
Still felt like spying.
Her phone rang. DNI Cartwright.
"Agent Foster, just checking in. How are you settling into your new role?"
"Coffee in hand, systems online, feeling slightly like a stalker, sir."
Cartwright laughed. "That's normal. Remember, we're not watching him, we're watching for him. Big difference."
"If you say so, sir."
"I do. Your job is to prevent disasters, not invade his privacy. If he's drinking coffee and reading, you ignore him. If an FBI task force is about to raid that same coffee shop, you intervene. Make sense?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Call if you need anything."
Amanda went back to her screens. At 7:23 AM, Perseus Jackson left his apartment building. Jeans, casual jacket, messenger bag. He looked like any other Manhattan resident heading out for the day.
She tracked him through public cameras—not hacking, just using feeds already available to DIA—as he walked four blocks to a coffee shop called "The Daily Grind."
He went inside. Ordered. Tipped. Sat down with his book.
The Count of Monte Cristo, according to the file note from six months ago.
Amanda pulled up the day's intelligence briefings. Three ongoing operations in Manhattan, none intersecting with Perseus's location. Two terrorism investigations, both in Brooklyn. One organized crime case, Upper East Side.
She made a note: "Subject at coffee shop, The Daily Grind, 7:35 AM. No operational conflicts. No action required."
Then she went back to reading the Echelon files.
By lunchtime, Perseus had moved to the New York Public Library. He'd checked out three books—all history, naturally—and settled into a reading room.
No incidents. No conflicts. Just a guy reading.
Amanda found this deeply anticlimactic.
Day 2 - Tuesday, 9:00 AM
Amanda arrived to find an alert waiting: Facial recognition hit, Perseus Jackson, Upper West Side.
She pulled up the details. Community center. Literacy volunteer program.
He was... teaching people to read?
She dug deeper. Volunteer record showed he'd been doing this for six years. Two mornings a week, helping adults improve their reading skills. Multiple testimonials from students praising his patience and encouragement.
One testimonial made her pause: "Mr. Jackson helped me learn to read at age 47. He never made me feel stupid. He never gave up on me. He changed my life. Thank you, Perseus." - Maria G.
Amanda sat back in her chair.
The most dangerous man in America was teaching middle-aged adults to read.
She checked for operational conflicts. Nothing. Closest investigation was three miles away.
Note: "Subject volunteering at community center. Literacy program. No conflicts. No action required."
She watched the feed for a moment. Perseus was sitting with an elderly man, patiently sounding out words in a beginner reading book. The man looked frustrated. Perseus said something that made him laugh.
They kept reading.
Amanda closed the feed.
Day 3 - Wednesday, 2:00 PM
Alert: Perseus Jackson, grocery store, purchasing supplies.
Amanda pulled up the feed more out of curiosity than necessity. She was starting to understand his routine. Coffee shops. Library. Volunteer work. Groceries. Occasionally helping his neighbors.
She watched him in the checkout line. The elderly woman in front of him was counting change, clearly short a few dollars. The cashier looked impatient.
Perseus quietly added a twenty to her pile. The woman tried to refuse. He insisted. She thanked him, close to tears.
Perseus shrugged it off and paid for his own groceries.
Tipped the bag boy ten dollars.
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Amanda made her note: "Subject at grocery store. Helped elderly customer. No conflicts. No action required."
Then she added, off the record: "This man is aggressively nice."
Day 4 - Thursday, 11:00 AM
The alert was different this time: FBI investigation intersecting with Perseus's location.
Amanda's heart rate spiked. This was it. Her actual job.
She pulled up the details. FBI task force investigating a human trafficking ring, conducting surveillance at a warehouse in Queens. Perseus Jackson was... three blocks away?
What was he doing in Queens?
She pulled public camera feeds. Perseus was walking down the street, messenger bag over his shoulder. He paused, looking at the warehouse the FBI was watching.
No. No no no.
Amanda grabbed her phone and called the FBI liaison.
"This is DIA Agent Foster, I need to speak to whoever's running the trafficking task force in Queens. Now."
Two transfers later: "This is SSA Martinez. What's this about?"
"There's a protected individual in your operational area. I need to make sure your team doesn't engage him."
"Protected individual? I don't have anyone flagged—"
"Check your database for Perseus Jackson. He should have a red flag."
Pause. Keyboard sounds. Then: "Oh. Oh. I see it. DO NOT DETAIN. Jesus, what's he doing here?"
"I don't know, but if your team sees him, tell them to leave him alone. He's not part of your investigation."
"Understood. I'm alerting my teams now."
Amanda watched the feed. Perseus was still looking at the warehouse. Then he walked past it, turned a corner, and disappeared into a soup kitchen.
He was volunteering at a soup kitchen.
Three blocks from an active FBI operation.
Amanda put her head in her hands.
SSA Martinez called back. "Agent Foster, he's at a soup kitchen. We've been watching that location for weeks—it's not connected to our investigation. He's just... serving food?"
"That appears to be the case, yes."
"The most classified person in federal databases is serving soup in Queens."
"Welcome to my life, Agent Martinez."
"This job is weird."
"You have no idea."
Day 5 - Friday, 6:00 PM
Amanda was writing her end-of-week report when she got a call from Director Reeves.
"Agent Foster, how was your first week?"
"Surreal, sir. I've monitored Perseus Jackson for five days. He's gone to coffee shops, the library, volunteer programs, and a soup kitchen. He's helped approximately seven elderly people, taught reading to four adults, donated to three charities, and tipped every service worker he encountered at least fifty percent."
"Sounds about right."
"Sir, I've read his files. I know what he's capable of. I've seen the combat reports, the intelligence assessments, the classified operations. But this week? He's just been... nice. Aggressively, consistently nice."
"That's who he is, Agent Foster. The capability for violence doesn't mean he chooses violence. He's been alive for hundreds of years. He's seen enough of humanity's worst. I think he's decided to be humanity's best."
Amanda looked at her screens. Perseus was back in his apartment, probably reading.
"Any incidents this week?" Reeves asked.
"One FBI investigation came close. I coordinated with their SSA, made sure they knew to leave him alone. No actual contact, no issues."
"Excellent work. That's exactly what we need. Prevention, not reaction."
"Thank you, sir. One question?"
"Go ahead."
"Does he know we're watching? That I'm assigned to coordinate his situations?"
"No. And we'd like to keep it that way. Perseus values his privacy. The less he feels observed, the better. As far as he knows, we have the flag system and nothing else."
"Understood, sir."
After hanging up, Amanda pulled up one more feed. Perseus in his apartment, sitting by the window, reading. The Three Musketeers, according to the file.
She wondered if he'd known Dumas. Given the historical records, it was possible.
Her computer pinged. End-of-week analysis from the monitoring system:
WEEK 1 SUMMARY:
Subject: Perseus Jackson
Incidents: 0
Arrests: 0
International Disasters: 0
Times Subject Helped Random Strangers: 11
Times Subject Exceeded Recommended Tipping Amount: 23
Overall Threat Level: Aggressively Wholesome
Amanda laughed despite herself.
She wrote her official report:
SUBJECT: Perseus Jackson - Week 1 Monitoring Summary
CLASSIFICATION: Omega
Week 1 of protective coordination complete. Subject maintained normal routine without incident. No operational conflicts required intervention beyond one FBI notification (resolved without contact).
Subject continues to demonstrate low threat to national security and high community engagement. Volunteer work, charitable donations, and consistent assistance to civilians noted.
Recommend continuing current monitoring protocols. Flag system functioning as designed.
ASSESSMENT: Subject remains the most dangerous man in America who spends most of his time helping people and reading books.
Respectfully submitted,
Amanda Foster
Defense Intelligence Agency
She hit send, then added a personal note to her private log:
Day 5: I understand now why they protect him. He's not just capable of saving the world. He actively chooses to make it better, in small ways, every single day. For centuries. Without recognition, without thanks, without anyone knowing.
This is the most important job I'll ever have.
Day 6 - Saturday (Personal Time)
Amanda wasn't supposed to work weekends unless there was an active situation. But she was curious.
She pulled up the monitoring system from her personal laptop. Just a quick check.
Perseus Jackson was at a park. Washington Square Park.
She pulled the feed.
He was sitting on a bench, reading. A young woman sat down next to him, crying. She looked like she'd had a terrible day.
Amanda watched as Perseus, without saying anything, simply offered her a tissue from his pocket.
The woman took it. Thanked him. They started talking.
Amanda couldn't hear the conversation, but she could see the woman gradually calming down. Whatever Perseus was saying, it was helping.
After twenty minutes, the woman smiled. She hugged him. He hugged back—awkward but kind. She left, walking with more confidence than when she'd arrived.
Perseus went back to his book.
Amanda closed her laptop.
She didn't need to watch anymore. She understood.
Monday Morning - Week 2, Day 1
Amanda arrived at 6:45 AM with a new perspective.
Her job wasn't to watch Perseus Jackson.
Her job was to protect Perseus Jackson from the very government he'd spent centuries serving.
She pulled up the monitoring system. Perseus was already at his coffee shop, reading.
Three intelligence operations in Manhattan today. She cross-referenced locations. No conflicts.
Her phone rang. Unknown number.
"Agent Foster."
"Hello, Agent Foster. This is Captain Chen, FBI Counterterrorism. I wanted to thank you for the heads-up last week about the protected individual. My team appreciated the clarity."
"Just doing my job, Captain."
"Well, you probably saved us from a massive diplomatic incident. We were this close to sending someone to question him about the warehouse. If we'd detained him..."
"Let's not think about that."
"Agreed. Listen, I wanted to ask—is there a distribution list for people who work cases in Manhattan? So we know who to avoid accidentally investigating?"
Amanda paused. That was actually a good idea.
"Let me talk to my director. But yes, that makes sense. I'll set something up."
"Thanks. And Foster? Your guy? The protected individual? My team did some digging. Public records, nothing classified. He's been volunteering at that soup kitchen for eight years. Every Thursday. Never misses a week."
"That sounds right."
"Just thought you should know. Take care."
Amanda hung up and made a note: Coordinate with FBI, NSA, and CIA about notification protocols for Manhattan operations.
Then she made another note: Perseus Jackson, Thursday volunteer work, 8 years consistent. Recommend building operational scheduling around this to minimize conflict potential.
She looked at her screens. Perseus was tipping another barista.
This week, she'd keep him safe from bureaucratic stupidity.
Next week, she'd do it again.
For as long as it took.
Because some people, she was learning, were worth protecting. Even from yourself.
Especially from yourself.
