Panacea

by Brad Murray

  “Mimi?” Jenny said bewilderedly. “Uncle Lars? What are you doing here?” She turned sharply to her right and gave Brumeux a serious scowl.

  “What have you done, Brumeux? What do you want with my family?”

  “The question you must ask yourself,” Brumeux said, “is how well do you know your family, Miss Jordan? How well do you know your dearest ‘Mimi’ and Great Uncle Lars?”

  Jenny glanced at Letta, confused.

  “Search your intuition,” Brumeux continued. “Why on earth would they be here? On this particular night, in this particular place?”

  Jenny’s mind raced, searching several possible paths that all led to the same answer. She took a moment to eye the occupants of the living room. Brumeux and the Order here in Jimmy Porter’s home, along with the nasty red-haired twin sisters she knew from memory to be agents of the Alicante. One stood over Dr. Minkowski’s bound and beaten body, while the other acted as a barrier between the guns in the room and her grandmother.

  “Alicante,” she breathed in sullen realization. “You’re Alicante.”

  “That’s right, Agent Jordan,” said Brumeux as he turned toward Letta. “Your granddaughter is such a bright young woman.”

  Letta kneaded her hands. “Agent Jordan? Brumeux, what’s the meaning of this? I demand answers!”

  “Calm yourself, Letta,” said Brumeux. “Your granddaughter, I’m proud to say, is in my employ. One of our finest as a matter of fact.”

  “Working for you? An agent for the Order? Impossible!”

  “I can assure you it’s the truth,” smiled Brumeux. “Miss Jordan popped onto my radar several years ago. I recruited her you could say. I was so smitten with her, you see. Such determination, such drive, such…verve. So much Wicker in her.”

  Lars stewed but said nothing. His face had turned a shade of tomato-red, and a vein bulged in his forehead.

  “You kidnapped her!” roared Letta. She couldn’t accept the notion that her sweet, wonderful Jenny could have joined in the cause of her nemesis.

  “I did nothing of the sort,” said Brumeux. “She came quite willingly and most exuberantly. Isn’t that true, Agent Jordan?”

  Jenny’s mind traced back to the recent series of letdowns that had built her disenchantment with Brumeux. The man who had recruited her five years ago had given her purpose; to be an integral part of an important cause. But as she stood in front of her grandmother, the realization smacked her across the face. Brumeux had only recruited her because she was a Wicker. She was nothing special, nothing unique. From the beginning his plan was to use her like a sacrificial pawn on a chessboard, waiting for just the precise moment to use her.

  “You manipulated me,” she seethed. “You made the Order sound like a place where I would be making a difference in the world.”

  “You are making a difference.”

  “For who? You? I’ve been nothing but a glorified prison janitor for the past several years. We’ve been holding people who don’t even belong in a cell. People who are not enemies of our cause.”

  Jenny’s jaw clenched and she spoke through her teeth. In her anger she seemed to have forgotten the fact there was a gun to her head.

  “I left everything behind for you, including my family. You betrayed me. Left me in the dark about all the things that mattered!”

  “If I had told you that your grandmother and Uncle Lars were senior members of the Alicante, would you have believed me?” asked Brumeux.

  Jenny said nothing, her eyes burned with angry tears.

  “If I had told you they were behind the ultimate plan to poison millions of people, would you have believed me?”

  “You’re right, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

  “Look your grandmother in the eye and ask her,” Brumeux challenged. “See if she denies it.”

  She turned to her grandmother, the woman she had always revered, hoping for some sort of explanation. But when she searched her Mimi’s face, her eyes had dropped to her lap, unable to return Jenny’s gaze.

  “Mimi?” begged Jenny.

  The old woman fiddled with the ends of the white shawl that lay in her lap, unable to look into Jenny’s eyes. For as much disillusionment she felt towards Brumeux, seeing the confirmation on her grandmother’s face was worse by a thousand fold. This was the ultimate betrayal. Tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheeks. She fell to her knees, covering her face.

  “You don’t understand the full story,” said Letta, her voice shaking and sputtering. “I need to explain – I – I – we need to talk about this one-on-one, not in this setting – I…”

  Her hands reached for Jenny, caressing her hair. Jenny recoiled at her touch.

  “I can’t believe it!” cried Jenny, surging to her feet. “You’re Alicante. I’ve seen for myself what you do, what you stand for. I don’t even know who you are – my entire life, everything you’ve said and done, it’s been one big lie!” Jenny backed away.

  “No, dear, no!” pleaded Letta. “You must listen to me – I…”

  “I think she’s heard all she needs to hear, Letta, don’t you?” smiled Brumeux. “What else is there to say? You’re senior leaders of the Alicante. You, and your brother, have long been behind the idea of what you refer to as a ‘population correction.’ Unless you are denying this, there really is nothing left for Miss Jordan to hear.”

  “Don’t act so high and mighty, Brumeux,” growled Letta, wiping a tear from her eye. “You’re not so angelic yourself. The things you’ve done –“

  “The things I’ve done I’ve been forced to do, by you. I’m not proud of a great many of these things – holding Andrew Porter in a cell to keep him from taking James away from the Order’s protection, keeping Agent Jordan in the dark about your identities, being forced to sacrifice the lives of people I’ve considered as friends in order to protect the lives of the many – these are things that wouldn’t have been necessary if it weren’t for you. I’ve spent a lifetime running counter to the Alicante – counter to the Wickers. Ever since that day – the day you described in such excrutiating detail just a few minutes ago. The day your father killed mine.”

  Brumeux nodded to Lars.

  “Hans Wicker viciously thrust his dagger into my father’s chest, again and again, stabbing the life out of him. He cared not for the fact my father was his superior, nor for the fact my father had a wife and two young children at home, no. He cared for nothing but vengeance; he cared for nothing over his obsessive, reckless need to prove himself a member of the ruling elite. To prove himself worthy of the Wicker name. My father’s crime was in not acknowledging his family’s status, and he paid for it with his life. And had I not been there, it would have cost the life of a very precious little boy as well.”

  Andy and Jimmy looked up at Brumeux, confused expressions etched on their faces.

  “You see,” Brumeux continued. “Hans Wicker had turned his attention from my father to a young boy, a Jewish prisoner the guards called Superjunge. ‘Superboy’. Your father was certain to kill him next.”

  Brumeux gave Lars and Letta an icy gaze, his jaw set firm.

  “I thrust the point of my knife through the base of his neck with all the power I had, ending his despicable life in a blink. I like to think I saved the world from whatever maliciousness Hans Wicker had in store for it. Forever.”

  Brumeux let out a deep exhale, as if finally relieved of a great burden. He turned towards the couch, smiling at Andy and Jimmy.

  “The little boy ran off into the woods, disappearing for some twenty-five years before I saw him again. That little boy, Andrew, was your father. Jimmy’s grandfather.”

  Lars and Letta gasped, the mystery surrounding the boy in the woods revealed.

  “I guess you could say,” Brumeux said to Andy and Jimmy. “I’ve been protecting your family from the Wickers for most of my life.”

  31

  Today – May 29, 2011

  “I must confess,” said Brumeux. “I could cal
l it fate that we are all here tonight, but that would be a lie. The events of today, in fact the events of the past several weeks have occurred because I wanted them to unfold exactly as they did. You’re all in this room, at this precise moment, because I wanted you to be here.”

  Brumeux paused, letting the message sink in.

  “That’s right. You, almighty Wickers, are here because I decided it to be so.”

  Lars gnashed his teeth together in a growl. The egotism of this man was astounding.

  Brumeux took a step closer to the Wickers, causing the Sisters to stiffen. They were braced for battle should Brumeux make a false move. He sensed their intensity, grinned, and turned away.

  “Tell me, what is it that makes you think you’ve earned the right to determine the fate of mankind? Does the simple fact you were born a Wicker give you dominion to issue death sentences to millions of people? You were certainly born with a silver spoon – in fact, a whole collection of them, stolen from the Jews during the war…”

  “Don’t act as if you’re better than us,” barked Lars. “The son of a Nazi commander who personally oversaw the deaths of thousands of people. Don’t forget your lineage, Schwarz.”

  “My father and Dr. Wagner were wrong,” Brumeux continued calmly. “They were misguided and brainwashed, like so many other Nazis. Furthermore, there was really no choice for them during that volatile period. At that point in our unfortunate history, you either conformed or you - along with your family - would end up like the Jews. I take no pride in the actions of my father, I can assure you. But what I can also assure you is that my father took no pride in Haasberg. He simply did what he was ordered to do. And I think if he had survived the war, he would have spent the rest of his days trying to make amends, just as I have done with my life.”

  Letta scoffed.

  “I would submit to you, Letta, that profound change can in fact occur,” said Brumeux. “If something overwhelmingly awe-inspiring happens, it can change you. It has the power to shake you to your core so profoundly that you find your old belief system to be blatantly inaccurate, and in fact, quite repugnant.”

  “What are you blathering about Brumeux?” Lars asked derisively.

  “You see, Dr. Wagner became my mentor after the war. And in those final days at Haasberg, he saw the light. For in the blood of a young boy, he saw what could be possible. He saw the potential to transcend the previous limitations of mankind’s capabilities. He imagined a future in which humans would no longer be hindered by disease; where cancer and diabetes and heart disease would be a thing of the past; where birth defects would only exist in history books. And that vision of human transcendance became our mission. We are defenders of mankind; guardians of life. We serve to… ”

  “Nice words,” Letta interrupted. “You see, Brumeux, I’ve always been a believer that one’s actions define their truth, and that their words mean little. Your actions show you’re not a good man. You care for no one but yourself. Why, you’ve got a gun to the head of one of your own agents…”

  “One’s actions do define their truth, I agree,” said Brumeux. “I do what is necessary, however difficult, for mankind; for the greater good. As for you, I’ve seen the results of the Alicante’s actions in person. As has Agent Jordan.”

  Jenny’s eyes narrowed on the Sister standing closest to her. Her mind recalled the torture she had witnessed first-hand as they had doled out unrelenting punishment on the French scientist a few years before.

  “Oh yes,” said Brumeux, “the actions of the Alicante have been of the utmost interest, of that I can certify. Self-righteous, heartless, destructive…”

  “But you –“ started Lars.

  “I’m not finished!” Brumeux shouted. “I realize you’re a Wicker and have always had your way – speaking however and whenever you desire - but not today. You will listen. You will listen to what I have to say, or you will regret it.”

  Lars fumed. Letta recoiled. Nobody talked to them this way.

  Nobody.

  But Jenny had that gun to her head and Letta worried Brumeux was heartless enough to have his man pull the trigger. Letta’s mind raced, searching for an opportunity. If she could just find a crack in the armor; a chink in which she could drive a wedge and leverage herself out of the situation. If only she could get her brother and granddaughter out of this farmhouse alive. She’d convince Jenny that Brumeux was a madman, and that it was the Alicante’s path that was righteous. If she could just find a way out of this mess, they’d unleash all matter of hell upon Brumeux and the Order. First, she decided, she needed to understand Brumeux’s end game.

  “Cut to the chase. What do you want, Brumeux?” demanded Letta.

  Brumeux smiled. But it was more than a smile; it was a type of uncontained glee. Benoit Brumeux was absolutely beaming.

  “What I want,” said Brumeux, his white teeth glinting in the living room light, “is for you to untie my people. You will release Dr. Minkowski and Agent Medlev, immediately.”

  “Fine,” said Letta tersely, nodding to the Sister closest to the crumpled bodies wriggling at the foot of the stairs. The Sister took her cue, though she did not revel in untying her captured prey. She huffed and rolled her eyes, like a scorned teenaged girl before begrudgingly obeying her parents’ orders. The room watched in silence as she cut through Tatiana’s bindings; first her hands, then her feet. Her matted, muddled blonde hair fluttered as she stirred to life, sluggishly rolling from her stomach and onto her back. She moaned softly as she sat up. The Sister moved on to Minkowski, pulling the bloodied gag from his mouth before moving to the bindings. He stared emptily at Brumeux, never blinking during the entire process. Finished with her task, the Sister crossed her arms, raised her eyebrows, and shot her masters a dubious look. Letting victims off the hook was not standard protocol for the Sisters.

  “It is done, Brumeux,” said Letta. “Now, please have your man remove his gun from Jenny’s head.”

  Brumeux nodded towards Stern. He lowered the weapon to his hip, though he kept it in his hand. He took one step backwards, giving Jenny space.

  “Now then, you have regained possession of your people and I have my granddaughter,” Letta said cooly. “I suggest we all part company before something unfortunate occurs. We’ll be leaving immediately.”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Brumeux. “You know it isn’t that easy. I’m not finished with my stipulations.”

  “What is it you want then?” asked Lars, his eyes narrowing.

  “You will resign the Alicante, effective immediately. As the basis for your retirement, you will site your mounting years and Letta’s failing health.”

  The sibling’s mouths dropped in unison. Letta arched her head upward towards her brother, gauging his reaction. Lars began snickering; quietly at first. His snickering transitioned to a laugh; a sort of crazed laugh that bent him over at the waist and only Letta seemed to understand. For she followed cue and began howling as well. The pair were apparently in on some sort of inside joke that no one else in the room could make heads or tails of.

  “Retire?” Lars continued to laugh. “You must know there is no such thing as retiring from the Alicante. Once you have attained the priviledge of membership, you are Alicante until you’ve taken your last breath.”

  Lars breathed in deeply, trying to regain the air he had lost during his fit. “I’m disappointed in you, Brumeux. I would have surmised you were much more aware of our organizational doctrine. Retire from the Alicante - really Brumeux, you must do homework. Such a thing has never occurred –“

  “Then today will be the first,” Brumeux interrupted. “History will be made. You will make the call and tell them your association with the Alicante and all of your initiatives are through.”

  “And why would we do this?” asked Letta. “We are at a stalemate in this room; your people and ours, each with weapons in hand. It’s a zero sum game. We could just as easily make the same requirement of you - that you retire from the Order or we
will put a bullet through you. It would be such a shame for the world if a misguided bullet were to end the ‘panacea’s’ life. At the end of it all, nobody wins.”

  “I’m not interested in a firefight,” said Brumeux. “You are most certainly correct. Such bloodshed does no good at all.”

  “I’m happy you agree,” Letta said. “The only logical course of action would be for us to part ways, without further ado. We will depart through that front door with all our people, Jenny included. And you will remain here, with all your people; the Porters and Dr. Minkowski included. We all live to fight another day.”

  Brumeux stared at Letta for a moment, and then at Lars. He turned and faced Jimmy and Andy on the sofa.

  “Let’s go,” Letta motioned to Jenny. But before anyone could take a step, Brumeux extended his palm, cautioning them to remain where they stood.

  “I appreciate your offer,” Brumeux said, fidgeting with something in inside his coat pocket. “There will be no living to fight another day. It all ends today, one way or another. As long as you remain a part of the Alicante, the Order is in jeopardy. And I cannot have that. You will resign from the Alicante. We will not leave this room until I am satisfied.”

  Letta groaned exasperatedly and put her palm to her forehead.

  “Besides,” said Brumeux, “I have something to show you.”

  From the inside of his coat, Brumeux pulled out a small box. It was rectangular in shape, slightly larger than a matchbox. It was black and its edges were lined in gold; an ornate gold-colored cursive “B” shimmering proudly at its center. Brumeux glanced up at the Wickers, ensuring he had their undivided attention. Satisfied, he carefully unsnapped the box’s lid. Lars and Letta leaned forward in unison, their minds tortured with the possibilities of what lay inside. Brumeux moved excruciatingly slowly, cautiously; adding to the drama of the moment. Lifting the lid gradually, the siblings leaned in further; concerned. What did Brumeux have in store for them?

  As he opened the lid as far as it would go, Brumeux stepped closer to the siblings. He displayed the box’s contents to them carefully, allowing the pair to marinate in the vision of its contents. Letta scrunched up her face and Lars did the same. Their reactions were mirror images of each other. Curious confusion at first.