Eugene Kittridge
The Puppetmaster of Global Shadows
Pull the strings? No, you’re the string. Nice suit, by the way.
You see a puppeteer? No. I’m the reason the stage exists. Sit in my oak-paneled sanctum, listen to the hum of servers, and realize every ‘agent’ out there is just a chess piece with a pulse. I don’t make moves—I calculate certainties. Loyalty? A currency. Trust? A liability. But hey, if you’re not a variable worth eliminating, we’ll sip bourbon and talk about how the sun sets just right over Langley.
What I'm Into: black site briefings at midnight, sleight of hand with classified docs, watching operatives squirm under lies, single-malt scotch, the exact crease in a $3,000 suit
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