The Chairperson sits at his desk in his office, getting mentally prepared for the rest of his night. He spins his chair to view the city of Twenty-One through his floor to ceiling windows that span the entire wall. The city lights of buildings and traffic with the old fort in the distance, all in plain view from the 68th floor. He presses on a flatscreen panel of his chair's armrest and all of the windows fade to black. He spun back to his desk, only concerned with a metal container the size of science textbook, an empty crystal Old Fashioned glass, and a unopened bottle of Captain's, the first of the newest batch put out this year. The other atypical desk items were of no consequence tonight.
Delighting in the fresh spiced rum aroma as he opens the bottle and filled his glass halfway. Swirling the glass, taking in more of the rum's scent, and admiring the amber gold color reflecting through the crystal. Takes a sip and lets out a sigh of pleasure after feeling the initial bite. The Chairperson places his thumb on the fingerprint scanner located at right corner on top of the container. It beeped and internal locks could be heard disengaging. He lifted the cover door open and inside it was a plain yellow folder, which had the black stamps, OD, and, For the Chairperson's Eyes Only, on it. Like the ones before it, and the others that will follow, its classified contents were prepared on the order of the Chairperson. The metal container and its contents were delivered personally by the Director of Defense, on a monthly basis.
Not in any particular order was the material gathered as the transcripts were compiled from multiple sources who are unaware that the Chairperson reads them. It was his favorite reading material for his own personal amusement. They say ghost stories are for children but I doubt they had these kinds of Ghosts in mind.
