FRAGMENT LVI — THE DUTCH INVOCATION

Somewhere in the Hague, Mark scrolled. Not out of boredom, but reconnaissance.

The thread was thick with the usual—VPN denial, Baltic suspicion, and performative melancholy. But then he saw it. One user, wounded by reality, claimed Russia was “turning into a white North Korea.”

Mark blinked. A long silence. Then:

“Russia. White,” he muttered. “That’s two lies and a cry for help.”

He scrolled down further—past the tangle of excuses and linguistic clumsiness—until he found it.

A Russian boy, mid-sized city, wide-eyed with Wi-Fi.
He had written a full paragraph about Mark Rutte. Or rather, about not knowing anything about Mark Rutte. He ended, bewildered: “Are the Dutches really so active on this site?”

Mark grinned. Slowly. Professionally.

He turned to his aide.

“Prepare a response. It should be gentle, like a drone strike.”

Then, to the press:

“Let me help our confused friend,” Mark began. “First: we are not ‘the Dutches.’ We are Dutch. Singular in grammar, plural in consequence.”

He took a breath.

“And yes—we are active.
Not in comment threads.
In geopolitics.
You come here for curiosity.
We come bearing precision weaponry and structurally sound bridges.”

He adjusted his sleeve.

“You don’t need to know who I am.
You already feel it.”

He paused.

“As for ‘white North Korea’? Please.
North Korea at least has discipline.”