I was born in a small village. I was still a child when we were raided by soldiers. Foreign soldiers. Torn from my elders, I was made to speak their language. With each new post, my masters changed along with the words they made me speak. With each change, I changed, too. My thoughts, personality, how I saw right and wrong. Words can kill.
Whatever the Navajo told you... it's just one possible solution derived by Cipher. My will is different. I've known you since your time at Langley. I've long been the other side of your coin. 1964, Soviet territory. FOX's first mission. Any mess you made, I was there to clean up. You completed your task - and admirably. The "information" you returned was far more than enough to fill our pockets. With it, our futures became - more or less - set in stone. And then the major came to me with an idea. "Washington doesn't know how to spend money," he said. "I'd like to... redirect it". His goal was an organization dedicated solely - covertly - to supporting America. Cipher. You know the rest. To him, it was mourning - the loss of his friend. Or rather, an act of revenge. On the world, but America most of all.
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