{"type":"location","location":{"title":"Your Office at Seguros Generales de Cuba","description":"You sit at a worn wooden desk in a cramped office on the third floor of the Seguros Generales de Cuba building in downtown Havana. It is October 24th, 1962—day two of what the radio calls the 'Cuban Missile Crisis.' Through your window, you can see Soviet military trucks rumbling down the street below, and armed militia checking papers at intersections.\n\nYour desk is cluttered with insurance claim forms and policy documents. A ceiling fan rotates slowly, doing little to cut through the humid Caribbean heat. The office is nearly empty—only a few other adjusters remain at their desks, speaking in hushed tones. Your supervisor, Señor Martínez, has not been in since Monday morning.\n\nAs you shuffle through some routine paperwork, a small metal canister rolls out from beneath a stack of files. Inside, you find a length of microfilm. Your hands tremble as you hold it up to the light filtering through the venetian blinds. The frames appear to contain military documents—orders bearing official seals and signatures. One frame shows a launch authorization with what appears to be a forged presidential signature.\n\nYour heart races. You have no idea how this got here, but you know instinctively that possessing it could be extremely dangerous. The walls suddenly feel very thin.","suggestedActions":["Examine the microfilm more closely at your desk","Ask your coworkers if they know anything about the microfilm","Leave the office and head to the street to think","Search your supervisor's empty office for clues","Hide the microfilm and try to leave the building"],"conversation":"h2w7n37yrxwxg148ysgwmf"},"conversationLength":1,"maxFreeConversationLength":10}