Deus Ex - Icarus Effect

by James Swallow

  As they walked, Anna caught sight of a circle of screens and a group of young men and women working at computer consoles. "Is this your

  hideout? Are they ... Juggernaut?"

  D-Bar snorted loudly. "Ha! They wish!" He grinned. "You don't just ask to join Juggernaut, Agent Kelso. You gotta earn it. They come to you,

  through the 'net. Hell, most of us have never even seen each other. Well, not for real, anyhow."

  One of the screens showed a replay of the footage from the Picus News report and she scowled when she saw it.

  The hacker gave a solemn nod. "That's pretty good work, if I do say so myself."

  "I never-"

  He shook his head. "The compositing, I mean. The fakery. It's not easy to pull off something of that quality that quickly." D-Bar gave her a level

  look. "It's okay, Agent Kelso. No one here thinks you're a killer."

  "Stop calling me that," she muttered, walking away. "I'm not an agent anymore. I don't know what I am."

  "Perhaps I can change that." Anna glanced up as someone approached. The man was a few years her senior, with an easy smile and immaculate

  brown hair. She couldn't place his origin just from a first look; Anna guessed that by the tone of his skin and the accent he was of mixed Hispanic

  extraction. "We're always on the lookout for new recruits. You seem eminently qualified."

  She looked him up and down. He wore a tailored Highman leather coat in rich brown that hung to his ankles, and a gold Rolex peeked out from

  under the cuff; the man was wearing clothes worth more than her apartment. "Don't get me wrong, but you seem a little out of place here."

  The man smiled. "Rebels wear a lot of faces." He offered her his hand. "I have you at a disadvantage, Ms. Kelso. Allow me to introduce myself.

  My name is Juan Ivanovich Lebedev."

  Lebedev. The name tripped a memory and she reached for it. "I know who you are," she replied. "Your family are some big shots in shipping.

  I've seen the name on the side of airships." If anything, she was making an understatement. Lebedev Global was worth billions of dollars and

  carried all manner of cargo across the planet via air, sea, and land.

  "Sky freight is one of the company's core businesses, that's right. But I assure you, that's not my sole interest."

  Anna took a step closer. She was aware of other men, clearly Lebedev's security detail, watching her for any hint of danger. "What would

  someone like you be doing with a group of militants and infoterrorists?"

  He chuckled. "We both know that's just a convenient label for the world governments to hang around the necks of the people who disagree with

  them."

  "Still..." She paused, looking around again. "You're running a real risk, aren't you? Being here? Talking to me?"

  Lebedev's calm manner turned cooler. "This is not a game, Ms. Kelso. A long time ago, I decided that there was work to be done to preserve our

  freedoms, and if our nations would not do it, then men like me ... Men with the money and the influence to do something about it... We could

  either serve, or resist. I chose the latter." He smiled without humor. "And as for risk? That van you were inside is packed with mobile screening

  gear. If we had found any recording devices or suspicious implants, D-Bar would have dumped you on the steps of the federal building and left

  you to their tender mercies."

  "He told me there would be answers." She folded her arms. "So if you're the main event, why don't you start with what the hell is going on?"

  Lebedev glanced at D-Bar, and then nodded. "All right. But first, I must know I have your trust, Ms. Kelso."

  Anna frowned. "That's pretty thin on the ground right now."

  "Indeed. That's why I'll start by confiding a secret in you." He walked to a table and poured coffee for both of them. "In your briefings from the

  Department of Justice, I'm sure you must have come across an organization called the New Sons of Freedom."

  She nodded. "Yeah. A coalition of independent militia groups. Idaho, Utah, Arizona, a few other places. Noise-makers mostly, throwbacks to the

  1990s. They're on some domestic terror watch lists, but they're not red-flagged."

  "Good," Lebedev replied. "That's exactly how I want it." He smiled as she took his meaning. "The New Sons are my creation. We're one of

  many groups banding together across this nation with an eye to the future. Preparing. Waiting for the day when we'll be able to secede from the

  corrupt government running this country." He saluted her with his cup. "We're playing a long game, Ms. Kelso. We're getting ready for the fall."

  She eyed him. "Are you serious? You're telling me Lebedev Global is backing the New Sons?"

  "Yeah, it's a trip, isn't it?" offered D-Bar. Lebedev shot him a look and he fell silent again.

  He pointed at the hacker. "My people have mutually beneficial relationships with a number of other, shall we say, extra-legal groups? And

  Juggernaut is one of them. We've worked together very closely in the past. That's one of the reasons we've stayed off the radar of the FBI, the

  ATF, and all the other agencies." "You're building an army, is that it?"

  He shrugged. "It might be that one day. But not today. No, right now we're too small to be a serious threat to those with the real power. So we

  have to play the game carefully."

  "Why are you telling me all this?" she demanded.

  "Because all of us, you included, have a common enemy. The Tyrants and the shadow cabal they call master."

  Despite herself, Anna tensed. "What do you know about the Tyrants?"

  "Bits and pieces," Lebedev went on, glancing at his watch. "We know they're the attack dogs in this particular arena. We know that you are

  right about them, Ms. Kelso. Your colleague, Agent Ryan. Garret Dansky. Donald Teague. They were all killed by Tyrant operatives."

  She felt her cheeks flush red. "So the hit on Skyler was—"

  "Cover," said Lebedev. "Two birds with one stone. Dansky was murdered, and Skyler intimidated. Have you seen the senator's most recent

  public statements? It's quite a reversal from her previous position."

  "I've been a little busy," Anna snapped. "You have proof of all this?"

  "Of course not. They're very good at what they do, Ms. Kelso. They'd never leave us a smoking gun. And the fact is, the Tyrants have been

  taking lives and enforcing the will of their masters all over the world, not just here in the United States. Everything they have done has been

  according to a plan."

  "What plan?" Lebedev sat and Anna did the same, staring at him across the table. "I want to know the reason why Matt Ryan died!" He hand

  was in her pocket, her fingers touching the coin.

  Lebedev pulled out a wallet; he drew a paper banknote—a rarity these days—and smoothed it out before him. "The one-dollar bill," he

  announced, turning it over. "You see this?" He indicated the symbol of the great seal. "The design of the pyramid, here? And the eye in the

  capstone, looking out? Some people call it the 'Eye of Providence.' But it's more than that." He tapped the banknote. "It's a representation of

  something that has infiltrated our lives, something lurking in the shadows. Something that has been around for a very long time."

  Anna's lips thinned. "Yeah, I've heard that conspiracy theory. Freemasons and flying saucers and Knights Templar, all that kinda stuff. You

  honestly expect me to believe the Tyrants are part of that?"

  "They call themselves the Illuminati." Lebedev became grave, and his manner gave Kelso a moment's pause. "The Tyrants are just their blunt

  instrument, one of many of their tools. The Illuminati are pulling their strings. A group of powerful men and women who believe that they alone

  have the will and the right to govern the future of our wo
rld."

  She shook her head. "What you're talking about doesn't exist. It's the creation of a paranoid mind."

  "Is it?" Lebedev paused. "Tell me, wasn't the very same charge leveled at you very recently?" He leaned closer. "If nothing else, I would think

  that the events of the last twenty-four hours would have taught you that the line between fact and fiction is not as well defined as you thought."

  She was quiet for a long moment. "All right. Say I buy that. But what the hell does a group of rich people carving up the world have to do with

  Matt's death, him and all the others? Not just Dansky, but the other ones I found."

  "And there's more where that came from," offered D-Bar, hovering nearby. "A lot more."

  Lebedev pointed at her face. "You're augmented. Those lovely eyes of yours. Because of that, you represent something to the Illuminati. You,

  and everyone else who has chosen to augment themselves. You're a threat." He gestured at the air. "New eyes, new arms. Faster reflexes,

  quicker thinking. But where does that end? When humans have the capacity to change the course of their own evolution, where does that

  lead?"

  Anna struggled with the thought. "It... it gives people control."

  He nodded slowly. "Control of their destiny. And a human race with that capacity is one beyond the influence of the Illuminati. That makes for

  an unstable world, and they can't have that." Lebedev's tone turned cold. "We mustn't be allowed to take charge."

  D-Bar came closer. "The United Nations are coming under pressure. They're being pushed toward a referendum on worldwide regulation of aug

  technology. That's what this is all about. Senator Skyler, all the rest? That's the Tyrants moving the pieces on the game board for their bosses.

  Setting up the dominoes. Your pal Ryan was just caught in the cross fire."

  It made a horrible, chilling kind of sense. The Tyrants were working on lines of influence, removing people who might act as impediments to a

  greater plan, or intimidating those they needed to use. The coin cut the palm of Anna's hand as she gripped it hard.

  "Human history turns on the smallest of moments, Ms. Kelso, and one of those moments is almost here," said Lebedev. "If the UN go to a

  ballot..." He frowned. "Whoever controls the direction of that vote will be able to manipulate the future of mankind." After a moment, he put

  down his cup and beckoned Anna to her feet. "I know it's a lot to take in. Come with me, I want you to meet someone. They might be able to

  make things clearer for you."

  D-Bar had already taken the flash drive Anna got from Temple's house, and he gestured with it as he walked away. "I'm gonna get started on

  analyzing this. See what we got. Tell Janus I said hi, yeah?"

  "Who is 'Janus'?" asked Anna.

  "I'll introduce you" said Lebedev.

  "You're a very good soldier, Ben," said Namir, from the ops room doorway. "But there's something you lack."

  Saxon saw the other man in the computer screen, a warped reflection of those hard eyes and that scarred face. "Enlighten me."

  "You can't see where the line is. You don't know how to compartmentalize yourself. You're not willing to make that sacrifice." Namir took a

  casual step into the ops room. "That's what we have to do. Put up walls around the parts of our souls we want to keep sacrosanct. Barriers to

  protect our humanity."

  Saxon tensed. "Is that what you do?" He thought of the man in the photo at the house, the father and husband. "You're one man in here, with

  us. Out there, you're someone else?" He rose slowly, his fury building. "That's not something to be proud of. That's a pattern of psychosis!"

  Namir shook his head slowly. "You're very good at what you do, Ben. But inside, you're weak. You can't let go. I thought that might change after

  what happened in Queensland. I had hopes."

  "Were you a part of that?" Saxon pointed at the screen and his voice rose. "Is this about those bastards holding your bloody leash?"

  Namir's tone never altered. "I want you to think very carefully about what you say next. Because this is the most important choice you will

  ever make. What happened in Moscow, then in the house in London ... Those things were not the tests of your character, or your loyalty." He

  gestured to the monitor. "This is the test, Ben. This is what will define who you are, and your future with the Tyrants. Do you understand? I

  need to know if you can be like me. Like the rest of us."

  Saxon's gorge rose; he was sickened by the other man's words, revolted by the thought of what black and poisonous truth lay behind them.

  "Like you?" he husked. "You don't hide your humanity away, Namir. You only tell yourself that you do. The truth is, you're not human

  anymore. You've lost that, you and Hardesty, Federova, and the others. You're a weapon that thinks like a man."

  The other man gave a weary sigh. "That's a shame. I really wanted you to understand. I hate to see great potential wasted."

  "Tell me what you did ..." Saxon spat, his voice rising to a shout. "Tell me!"

  Namir's gaze never wavered as his metallic hand curled into a fist. "Do you know what real strength is, Ben? Sacrifice."

  CHAPTER TEN

  Aerial Transit Corridor—Gulf of St. Lawrence—North Atlantic

  It was as if the blood had been drained from him; Saxon was suddenly an empty vessel, echoing and cold. In all the years of battle in conflict

  zones across the globe, in those moments when death had been a heartbeat away from claiming him, he had never felt the same slow, sickening

  shock that swept about him now. Carefully, he gathered up the vu-phone and pocketed it, moving slowly to keep one of the ops room consoles

  between him and Namir.

  "I'll give you the truth, if you want it," said the Tyrant commander. "There's little point in being coy about it now."

  "Operation Rainbird." Saxon ground out the words like pieces of broken glass. "What did you do?"

  Namir sighed. "I wish I could make it clear to you how lucky you are, Ben. Recruitment into the Tyrants is not a reward that just anyone is

  given. You need to be superlative. You need to be more than just a fool with a gun." He walked a little farther into the room, and Saxon stiffened

  as he felt the floor shift slightly beneath their feet; the jet was banking, turning eastward. Namir went on. "You were on the radar a long time

  before I came to you in Queensland. We have ongoing dossiers on many potentials. Our missions have a high level of attrition. Fatalities like Joe

  Wexler are a regular occurrence."

  "Get to the point!" snapped Saxon.

  "Oh, I will. But you have to see the big picture first." Namir nodded to himself and pointed. "You were in the prime percentile, Ben. All that was

  stopping you were your ... shortcomings. We freed you from that."

  "What?" He could feel the dark answer coming; on some level, he already knew and he didn't want to hear it. He didn't want it to be true.

  "Wexler ... It took his wife's death to bring him into the fold. Now, Gunther Hermann, he was a very different subject. Much more direct. The

  group made certain problems he had in Germany go away, and in return he was in our debt. Not that what he owed mattered. He came to the