by Shah, R D
“How about Goebbels, didn’t he kill his children and then commit suicide with his wife in a final show of loyalty to his Führer?”
“Good old Joe Goebbels,” McCitrick said, still smiling. “Hitler may have been a narcissistic psychopath with the morality of a serial killer, but he was a cunning little prick. He hand-picked individuals to double for him during the war, a safety precaution against all the Germans who had pegged him for the fruitcake that he was and wanted to see him dead. It was one of these doppelgangers that was used to take a bullet to the head in his apparent suicide. Which was another reason for having his body burnt. It must have been a good likeness, because when he was taken out to be cremated nobody noticed the switch, even his loyal Joseph Goebbels, who then committed suicide, never realised the switch had taken place.” McCitrick pointed his finger towards his own forehead. “A gunshot to the head does wonders for the skin. It was Goebbels’s act of sacrifice, even if it was done unknowingly, that cemented the belief that it was Hitler’s crispy nugget in that shallow grave instead of the poor soul who took the bullet for him. Yes, the Grey Wolf was as cunning as he was insane.”
“Grey Wolf?”
“It was Hitler’s codename after the war, while in Argentina. Quite the ego for someone with more of a resemblance to a scurrying rat than the magnificent canine he named himself after.”
Munroe took a moment to process the information. it was a lot to take in, and even though he could get on board with the historical rewrite he was struggling to be convinced by almost everything else. “OK, so the Nazi hierarchy escaped justice. A travesty, yes, and I can see why no one wanted to admit it publicly, but… That was over seventy years ago, and seeing as they haven’t managed to take over the earth so far, why DS5?”
The question was asked bluntly, but McCitrick looked as if he’d been asked it many, many times before.
“That’s the real question, isn’t it. What relevance does a clandestine organisation, operating at the behest of the highest positions of political power in the Western world, have in the modern age?”
McCitrick shifted off the table and sat down in the seat next to Munroe and then rested his arm on the back of it. “Churchill wasn’t just a remarkable orator, he was also blessed with tremendous foresight, which is why, I think, President Truman got on board with his idea in the first place. How do you plan for all eventualities about a threat that could rise up at any time, from anywhere, and compromise anyone – including those in power? That was the real concern.”
“Difficult, but not impossible. Put too much power in one person’s hands and it’s open to corruptibility,” Munroe replied, sounding vague because he wanted to hear it from McCitrick’s own mouth and not dilute the conversation with his own theory.
“Precisely. There are few absolutes in life, but one is that power corrupts even the best-intentioned people. It’s an unfortunate part of the human condition, which is why it’s no coincidence that the most democratic countries in the world are the ones with the most checks and balances the higher up the totem pole you go. I believe it was Lincoln who said, ‘If you want to test a man’s character, give him power. Give a little power and you see the true mettle of a man.’ This was something that Churchill also believed emphatically. He was a big fan of Lincoln.”
McCitrick pulled out a pack of cherry cough drops. “Helped me quit smoking, been addicted to them ever since,” he said, popping one into his mouth before continuing. “It was decided that a group would be set up, kept from the public, for the reasons I’ve already mentioned, with total authority coming from the Home Secretary and his or her opposite numbers in both America and France. The number of operatives would be small, for accountability reasons, and no other member of government would be aware of its existence. If a Nazi resurgence was ever to be attempted, then it was presumed infiltration of the Western political apparatus would be a given, and the top jobs would be the most coveted for anyone attempting a takeover from within. Each defence head, with access to military and influence beyond the country’s borders, would be watched for any signs of Nazi re-emergence, as well as keep an eye on each other, like a safety net. The Fourth Reich may manage to acquire one of the positions, but all three at the same time? Extremely unlikely.”
“And what if any of these positions, or any singular operatives, did become corrupted?” Munroe asked, already seeing the need for such safety valves.
“Back in the Forties, secret military courts had been set up during the war effort in both the UK and the US to deal with Axis spies, keeping trials from the public domain. These courts had the right to execute as well. They went on being used, if necessary, during the Cold War. They’ve rarely been employed since, but the structure for them is there just in case it’s ever needed. It was this instrument that was agreed on by the three leaders to deal with any infiltrations into western democracy, if and when, they occurred. It is this instrument of justice that applies to us as well, Ethan.”
The idea was harsh, but Munroe knew the reality, and to him it was more than warranted.
“DS5 are a protective measure and although we’ve evolved over the decades – there were major changes in operations after 9/11 – the mandate still holds true. We watch, wait and intervene when the need arises. Given all the original Nazis died out long ago, the movement which they started and backed with stolen money from the people of Europe has morphed into something similar yet operationally very different… Daedalus. They are highly organised, well financed and over the decades have infiltrated many areas of industry and political life. Have no illusions, Ethan, these people aren’t like the Taliban. They are near impossible to spot, having been born into their cover. They are highly motivated, highly trained and true believers in a Fourth Reich, and they will stop at nothing to make it happen. Their goal is long term, generations in the making, and they rarely stick their head above the parapet unless it’s essential to advance their goal. Sometimes years can go by with nothing, not even a lead, and then they pop up again, and that’s when we swoop. It’s a game of chess. A long game – but the attack on Parliament changes everything. There’s no reason to have committed it unless it’s a stepping stone towards bigger things.”
“Jesus,” Munroe replied, unsure of what worried him more – the fact that Daedalus was out there, or that DS5 knew hardly anything about them. After over seventy years!
McCitrick must have sensed Munroe’s concerns and he leant in closer, even though they were the only ones in the room. “Look, I know it might appear like we’re in the dark, but I assure you there’s a lot I’m not telling you, need-to-know information. What I can say is that we’ve had our suspicions about Icarus for months, and by killing two MI6 agents he stuck his neck out too far. He’s Daedalus to the core, and we were hoping he’d lead us deeper into the furnace, but now he’s gone rogue it’s essential that we track him down. That’s what I want you on.”
“And how about his contact at the Ministry of Defence? The photo you showed me back in London appeared fairly conclusive that he has someone on the inside.”
McCitrick looked unconcerned and he tapped Munroe on the shoulder. “It’s in hand, you leave that to me. Right now, as I said, I want you on Icarus. He’s the lead to follow. And we need him brought in.”
Munroe had no issue with such an assignment – there was still too much he needed to know from the man about his family. But he was still trying to fathom DS5, an organisation that he was already being inducted into. “So essentially you’re Nazi hunters.”
McCitrick chuckled at the idea, for the first time looking almost embarrassed. “Something like that, but we’re so much more. We also carry out operations through the Ministry of Defence. But yes, in a nutshell, you’re correct. Our primary role is hunting Nazis – or Daedalus, as they’ve become.”
Munroe didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The whole thing was surreal. And despite the idea of a Nazi group still attempting to act out the wishes of a thousand-year Reich at the
behest of a dead man and his cronies, there was a more pertinent question on his mind. “Is this… DS5… legal? You are keeping it from the PM and the other two presidents, right?”
“Oh, it’s legal. It’s a bit rocky since the EU came into force, and as I mentioned the events of 9/11 have complicated things, but yes. We may be the most secretive organisation in the intelligence community, but we also have a presence everywhere within it and beyond. As for our place in the world, it’s best put like this. There are many layers of security, intelligence and accountability in each of our governments but, from the position we work from, we can’t even see those layers, let alone be bound by them. It’s one of the reasons why DS5 operatives’ moral virtues must be unimpeachable. Licence to kill is standard, and we have all and any equipment or resources needed to assist in our remit at our fingertips. And above all else, we take the heat for the government when needed. To put it bluntly, Ethan, we are unaccountable by all and only accountable to each other and the UK, US and French secretaries in charge.” McCitrick now bit at his bottom lip. “It also means we’re expendable.”
“Expendable?” Munroe said. Even though he liked what he was hearing it put an uncomfortable twist on McCitrick’s whole sales pitch.
“Yes, if need be. You remember your brief? ‘For Queen and country’, Ethan. Well, this is for ‘humanity and world’. Doesn’t get much bigger.”
McCitrick stood and began heading to the exit. “Follow me, there’s some people you should meet.”
Munroe also got up, but he remained where he was, and when McCitrick reached the door he turned around and raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“Why the name, DS5?”
McCitrick smiled. “It’s the Roman numeral for 5, ‘V’. It’s an acronym.”
“For what?”
“Disavowed, Ethan. It stands for the Disavowed. Because that’s exactly what we are.”
Chapter 19
The group was small, amounting to eleven men and women including himself and McCitrick. As Munroe was led into the adjoining briefing room the sound of chatter fell silent and every one of the attendees stared over at the new arrival including Sloan, who made her way over to join them both.
“Apologies for giving you the bitchy treatment over the past few days, but you’re not in until you’re in. Know what I mean?”
Munroe nodded his head and shook her outstretched hand. “No complaints, Jax. Anyway, I’ve not officially accepted the position.”
Sloan glanced over at McCitrick and rolled her eyes before slapping her palm down onto Munroe’s shoulder. “Oh yes you have, Ethan. Welcome to the team.”
Munroe didn’t respond immediately, but then he nodded with content acceptance as McCitrick ushered him towards two people standing nearby, as the rest of the small crowd once more broke out in conversation.
“Each of the three countries in DS5’s charter has three operatives and a section head. On top of that are each of the defence heads of those countries and on our side the Home Secretary. Fifteen people in all.”
“Minus the politicians I only see eleven.”
“The UK is… was… down by two,” McCitrick said, gently patting Munroe on the back. “Now we’re down by only one. The two MI6 agents Icarus killed. They were ours. C’mon, let me introduce you to some people, and don’t get your nose bent out of joint if they’re a bit hostile. New DS5 operatives don’t usually enter the fray so quickly, and these people are only doing their job.”
“And that is?”
“To be suspicious,” McCitrick said under his breath, “just like I am.”
Suspicious or not, the cavalier attitude on display of such monumental revelations was, to Munroe, somewhat jarring at first, but a part of him was loving it. His ambition for wanting to join the military’s special services had always been about being the best he could be, pushing his abilities and seeing how far he could go, but the conservative decorum of such a life had never suited him very well. Here, though, was an organisation with inflexible moral demands, a place he could push his skills to their limits and be part of something that had worldwide implications.
“Colonel Anne Sinclair, US Sector Chief, and Colonel Jacques Remus, French Sector Chief. May I introduce Ethan Munroe, our newest recruit.”
Sinclair was in her mid-forties with blonde hair, peppered with grey, and her green piercing eyes were accentuated by her pale white skin tone. She shook Munroe’s hand, followed by Colonel Remus who, dressed in full military khaki, appeared far friendlier. He offered Munroe a smile and a firm handshake.
“Welcome,” Remus said in a thick French accent, motioning towards McCitrick. “John tells us you’re going to be a strong asset to the team. Too fast for my liking, but if John says he trusts you then I can live with it.”
Munroe remained relaxed and calm. Rank had never bothered him. “Pleasure to meet you, Colonel, and good to be on board, although I’m still in the briefing stage. Over seventy years of new history is a lot to learn and process.”
“Isn’t it just, and call me Remus,” the Frenchman said in a deep, husky voice. With his black, receding hairline and long face there was a look of Jean Reno, the French actor, about him. “We don’t do rank at DS5, only respect for the chain of command, and as for processing, you better get your mind clear. With Parliament still smoking things are going to move fast.”
Remus’s blunt talk was appreciated by Munroe and he replied accordingly, wanting to show his best. “You can count on it, Remus. I’m ready to go as and when. Just give the word.”
“Good,” the Frenchman replied, displaying a satisfied smile.
“Unlike Remus here I like rank,” Sinclair interrupted, staring at Munroe frostily. “You can call me Colonel Sinclair, and we should thank you for the intel on Daedalus’s attack. It may have come too late, but the connection to Kessler is invaluable.”
“Thank you, Colonel, but I’d say luck had a lot to do with it,” Munroe replied, staying humble, but Sinclair was quick to admonish the idea.
“Bullshit. Luck had nothing to do with it. I like my people to be honest in their assessments. Do well and pat yourself on the back, screw up and be prepared to admit it and suffer the consequences. In our business we may have to lie to people about our intentions, but we don’t lie to ourselves. Understand?”
“I understand,” he replied, blank-faced. “In that case, yes, it was a remarkable piece of work and use of my skills, Colonel.”
Sinclair stared at him for a moment coldly and her eyes tightened, but then a thin smile appeared on her lips and she expelled a deep laugh. “I’ve seen your record and your handling of Kessler. I’ve seen the CCTV footage. You’re an experienced operator with a sharp mind, and that’s exactly what we need, especially now, given the shitstorm at Westminster.”
It was McCitrick who interrupted. “We all share gathered intel with one another. Nothing is held back, politics has no place in what we do. And command is shared equally between section heads. An order from any of these two is as good as coming from my own mouth.”
For a clandestine military unit it was pretty liberal thinking, but Munroe approved, and after spending the last few years in the public sector the ethos was welcomed. “Good to know, sir. That’s the way I like it.”
The response drew a smile from Remus but it quickly faded. “Good, you’ll fit right in, my friend. But don’t fuck up or you will feel the full weight of my boots.”
“Also good to know, Remus,” Munroe replied as Remus now turned his attention to McCitrick and began speaking as if Munroe wasn’t even there.
“I like him, John. But I don’t like the circumstances around his leaving the military. Honourable discharge or not. Try that shit in my unit and I would have locked you up and thrown away the key. Permanently.”
Munroe said nothing as McCitrick considered his reply, but surprisingly it was Sinclair who came to his defence.
“We’ve all fucked up at some point in our career, Remus. Even you. I’ve seen hi
s record, just as you have, and that’s the only blemish I could find. I can only speak for myself, but I’m only interested in what he brings to the table going forward.”
“I agree,” McCitrick added, and Munroe watched Remus share a gaze with the other two section heads. He found the whole discussion very strange. In the military this was the kind of conversation that would usually be held behind closed doors, but yet here they were, putting their cards on the table right in front of him. DS5 was just as McCitrick had told him it was. No bullshit, and everyone open to a fault. Everyone knew where everyone stood and the chain of command was the only thing sacrosanct… Munroe liked it.
“OK, Ethan,” Remus said finally, turning his attention back to Munroe. “Let us see what you can do.”
The other two heads nodded in agreement as Remus motioned to the others behind them, still in conversation among themselves. “Why don’t you meet the others.”
“Introductions will have to wait, I’m afraid,” McCitrick said, glancing over at the three large monitors on the wall. “The three wise kings will be online any moment.”
“Three ‘wise’ kings?” Munroe asked and received a forced smile from McCitrick.
“Just a nickname for the Defence and Home secretaries from each country. But don’t let the ‘king’ part fool you. With the potential change of political guard we keep them in check as much as they do us. Now if you could give us a moment.”
The three section heads filtered away from him and Munroe was left with Sloan, who had been listing to the whole conversation.
“They’re a motley bunch,” Sloan said, motioning to the small group of DS5 operatives chatting among themselves. “But once you get to know them you’ll realise they’re the best at what they do. Believe me. I’d rather have these lot watching my back than a brigade of regulars. And as for Remus, he’s probably got more operational experience under his belt than everyone put together. He ran covert operations during the Bosnian War as a sniper and ran French special forces in Afghanistan and Iraq.”