Origin - Season One

by James, Nathaniel Dean

  When they were back on the motorway, the man turned to Manin and said, “You were supposed to kill him.”

  Manin regarded him for a moment and said, “He sent you?”

  The man nodded. “We can’t exactly have our star general talking to the Swiss police, now can we? Did he give you the drive?”

  Manin shook his head. “He didn’t have it. He also seemed quite sure my own days were numbered.”

  The man laughed. “Did he now?”

  “He did.”

  “Jack was an incompetent fool. I’m more interested in hearing how you got on at Utska. Have you taken care of our problem?”

  Manin reached into his pocket and produced the picture of Richelle.

  “Good,” the man said. “Very good.”

  Chapter 79

  The Callisto

  Somewhere on the Baltic Sea Wednesday 26 July 2006

  0200 CEST

  Richelle handed the mic back to the communications officer and turned to Williams. “Jack’s dead. He arrived in Zurich yesterday morning. We also have Victor Manin.”

  They returned to Williams’s cabin where Francis was waiting.

  “Has Manin talked?” Francis asked.

  “He didn’t so much talk as sing,” Richelle said.

  “Oh?” Francis said.

  “The general is currently the guest of honor at my sister’s house in Zurich. Although he doesn’t know that.”

  Francis regarded her with a wry smile. “He thinks he’s been sprung by his own people?”

  Richelle nodded. “By his contact inside our organization, yes. Although he has no idea who it is. His instructions arrive through a drop at the central train station in Moscow.”

  “And the drive?” Francis asked.

  “We already know Jack was supposed to give it to Salnikov in New York, and why that didn’t happen. According to Manin, he had been told Jack would bring it to Zurich. He had been promised proof of the claims being made about our organization before he committed himself to the task of helping to take it down.”

  “I guess if you knew what it was all supposed to mean, that makes sense,” Francis said.

  “He also says Jack tried to kill him before the police arrived.”

  “Because he still didn’t have it,” Francis said.

  “It looks that way,” Richelle said. “And if Manin had no idea what happened in New York, I think it’s safe to assume that his contact doesn’t either.”

  Francis considered this for a moment and said, “Titov seemed convinced that this person, the one your security chief says shut down the communications system, arrived on your orders.”

  “I knew nothing about it,” Richelle said.

  “No. But the question is, who would have been able to make it look like you did?”

  “I’ve thought about that,” Richelle said. “Jack would have been able to originate the transfer request in New York, although it’s hard to believe Marius wouldn’t have noticed. The problem is, we can’t get a hold of Marius, or Carl Bosch for that matter.”

  “I think you should prepare yourself for the very real possibility that they’re both dead,” Francis said. “The behavior of your friend Jack since he lost the drive has had desperation written all over it, including his partnership with Norton Weaver. Although knowing Weaver, he wouldn’t have been given a choice. That old bastard would have been as desperate as Jack to find the drive. It’s just the kind of asshole he is. I’m not a betting man, but if I were, I would put my chips on your insider as the man who arranged for this guy to show up just in time to take the heat. Do we even know where he came from?”

  “I didn’t have time to ask,” Richelle said. “But I intend to.”

  “You need to be careful,” Francis said. “The person you’re looking for will panic if they know you’re still alive. They may try to run.”

  Richelle and Williams shared a knowing look.

  “What?” Francis said.

  “They can’t run,” Richelle said. “I don’t have time to explain why, and you might not believe me if I did, so just take my word for it.”

  Francis ignored this cryptic comment and went on. “Fine. But to be on the safe side, who actually knows you’re on board?”

  “Just my security chief.”

  “Then I suggest you keep it that way,” Francis said. “Do you trust him, your security chief?”

  Richelle laughed. “Brendan? It’ll probably take all three of us just to keep him from turning the place into a concentration camp until we find who we’re looking for. He was my father’s personal bodyguard for ten years.”

  “Fine,” Francis said. “If it was up to me, I’d bring him on board as soon as we arrive, brief him and send him back to try and root out your traitor. Although if you think he’s going to go off half-cocked, maybe it’s better to send Captain Williams.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Richelle said. “Once he understands the situation.”

  They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” Williams said.

  “Sir, we’ve arrived,” the crewman said.

  “I’ll be right up,” Williams said.

  Williams walked to the door and turned around. “What’s the plan, then?”

  Richelle hesitated for a moment then looked at Francis and said, “Bring Brendan on board. Don’t tell anyone else I’m here and make sure the crew doesn’t either. In fact, have them come back inside once we’ve docked.”

  Chapter 80

  Aurora

  Wednesday 26 July 2006

  0230 EEST

  They were sitting in the galley of the Callisto. Richelle, Francis and Williams on one side of the table, the chief on the other. When Richelle finished speaking he shook his head and said, “My god. And Jack Fielding, of all people.”

  “You knew him?” Francis said.

  The chief looked uncertainly at Richelle.

  “It’s okay, he’s fine,” she said.

  “Not exactly,” the chief said. “I met him a few times at Utska when he was running the security team there. Never would have taken him for a traitor, though.”

  “Join the club,” Richelle said.

  “And I would have bet my right arm that Rainey was behind what happened to Darkstar,” the chief said.

  “What did you say his name was?” Francis said.

  The chief looked at Richelle again, clearly uncomfortable answering questions from this newcomer.

  “Tell him,” Richelle said.

  “His name is Mitch Rainey.”

  “He wasn’t an employee of the FBI in DC by any chance, was he?” Francis said.

  The chief looked startled. “Yes, he was. How the hell do you know that?”

  “Jesus,” Francis said. “Mitch Rainey was the guy who helped Mike on the Fed investigation. Mike said one of their calls had been tapped and that he hadn’t heard from him since.”

  “Where is he now?” Richelle said.

  The chief lowered his head and said, “Actually, he’s missing.”

  “What do you mean, he’s missing?” Richelle said.

  “We believe Sarah Breland helped him get away.”

  “Erik’s daughter?” Richelle said.

  “Yes. She was… err… she was rather taken with him, I think.”

  Richelle was shaking her head. “Christ, Brendan. What the hell is going on around here?”

  “He was being held in his quarters. She left one of my guards unconscious. I guess it’s hardly surprising if she knew he was…”

  The chief suddenly stopped. He seemed troubled. When he looked back up at Richelle he said, “There is something else. I think Heinz may be involved.”

  “Heinz?” Richelle said. “Why would you say that?”

  “He’s the only person here with open access to the system. He could easily have shut down the comm link and forged the transfer order.”

  “So could you,” Richelle said. “That hardly makes you a suspect.”

  �
��He was taken with Rainey,” the chief said. “Ask Erik. He invited him to stay. He also let him access the system unsupervised.”

  Richelle looked stunned. The chief reached into the breast pocket of his coveralls and brought out a folded sheet of paper. “I didn’t want to show you this in front of anyone else. I had Heinz’s room searched before you arrived and found this in a box under his bed.”

  The chief pushed the paper across the table. It was a photograph of her taken at Aurora several years earlier. In it she was standing next to her father. Both of them were smiling. But there was nothing sweet about the photograph now. It was covered in obscenities of every kind, both words and sketches. A crudely drawn ax was buried in her father’s head with the words born in sin written on the handle. There was a collar around Richelle’s neck and a leash running to her father’s hand. The words daddy’s little cunt had been written across her face. As she looked at it, her face went pale.

  “Enough,” Francis said taking the picture. “Where is this Heinz?”

  “Waiting outside,” the chief said.

  “I’ll go,” Williams said. “You stay here.”

  “No,” Richelle said. “I’ll go.”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a great idea,” the chief said.

  “I don’t give a fuck what you’re sure of,” Richelle said. “This is my job, and if that son of a bitch doesn’t like it, he can say it to my face.”

  Chapter 81

  Berlin

  Wednesday 26 July 2006

  0300 CET

  Mike Banner had no idea how close he had come to reliving the nightmare of his friend Mitch when he regained consciousness briefly and saw the stars through the cockpit of the helicopter. Unlike Mitch, however, no one needed to put him back down. The morphine in his system took care of that.

  When he woke up again he was in a private hospital room. A nurse was adjusting the roller on his drip and was about to leave when Mike moved his right arm and knocked something off the bed.

  She turned and offered him a sympathetic smile. “Welcome back, Mr. Stipe. How are you feeling?”

  Mike tried to speak but his tongue seemed stuck to the bottom of his mouth. She saw he was struggling and walked to the sink to pour him a glass of water. “Easy now, just a little bit.”

  None of it seemed to reach his throat. It was like pouring water on hot sand. He had drunk half the glass before he regained the use of his tongue. When he spoke, the words came out in a drunken slur. “Where am I?”

  “You’re at the Karl Gustav Clinic in Berlin, Mr. Stipe. You were flown in late last night.”

  He tried to ask her what had happened to him but the few words he had managed seemed to have drained him of all his strength. She smiled again and said, “It’s best if you rest for now. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”

  She left the room and Mike found himself alone, unless the incoherent jumble of thoughts and half-memories in his head could be called company. The thought that kept coming back to him was of Susan coming to New York for the weekend. Although how they were going to go house hunting if he was in a hospital bed was anyone’s guess.

  He tried to move his arm again but it was too heavy. He managed to twist his head to the right, just far enough to see a bouquet of flowers and a card standing next to them on the edge of the table. When he tried to focus on the writing his vision blurred, turning the letters into little more than black swirls. He closed his eyes and opened them again. This time he could read the name.

  Not Susan, but Caroline. The name meant nothing to him. He closed his eyes and fell back down into sleep, the two names swirling around in his head.

  Susan.

  Caroline.

  Chapter 82

  Aurora

  Wednesday 26 July 2006

  0330 EEST

  “Christ, I’ve known him all my life,” Richelle said. “My father trusted him above anyone else.”

  She was standing in front of the window in the chief’s office looking out at the harbor below. From here, no one would know anything had happened. To the staff of Aurora it was just another day at the office.

  The chief approached her and put a hand on her shoulder. “If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that you can never truly know anyone.”

  “But why not admit it? That’s what I don’t get. Why not at least have the dignity to own up?”

  “I don’t think he can,” the chief said. “But it’s all here. I even had Harold look into his communications logs. He’s been deleting his external calls from the main index, but Harold found the backups.”

  “I still can’t believe it,” Richelle said. “And what the hell am I supposed to do about RP One? Heinz practically ran the program by himself. Without him the risks are too high. We could lose RP One and the Pandora. The last ten years down the fucking drain.”

  She sat down and buried her head in her hands. “I could kill the old fuck. You know that? I really could.”

  “What about Rainey?” the chief said.

  “What about him?”

  “Heinz seemed to think he was practically a genius. According to Erik, he understood more about Origin in twenty minutes than some of our brightest people have figured out in years. Heinz may have been lying about a lot of things, but I don’t think he was lying about that. If you think about it, it makes sense. He would have needed someone to help him if he was going to take over.”

  “He’s been here for what, a week?” Richelle said. “I’m sure he’s smart, but not that smart. According to Heinz, the margin for error on the landing is less than three percent. And I don’t think he was lying about that either.”

  “Still,” the chief said. “It wouldn’t hurt to speak to him yourself. Sarah was hiding him in the old generator room. They’ve gone topside to get some fresh air. You could probably use some yourself.”

  “I don’t know,” Richelle said. “I don’t know what the hell to do, Brendan. Everything that’s happened, it’s all too much. Maybe Heinz was right. Maybe I’m not up to this.”

  “Don’t say that,” the chief said. “Your father chose you because he knew you had what it takes. For what it’s worth, I agree with him.”

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll speak to him. If nothing else, I guess I owe him an apology.”

  “We all do,” the chief said. “Come, I’ll go with you.”

  Chapter 83

  The Callisto Wednesday 26 July 2006

  0400 EEST

  Francis was waiting in the galley when Williams returned.

  “How did it go?” Francis asked.

  “It wasn’t pretty.”

  “It never is.”

  “Brendan had one of Heinz’s staff check his external communications records. It looks like he’s been in touch with both Jack and Manin on a regular basis.”

  “We should be grateful things went as smoothly as they did,” Francis said. “In my experience things like this rarely end without casualties.”

  “Come on,” Williams said. “I think it’s time you got a look at the eighth wonder of the world.”

  If Mitch had been surprised to see Aurora for the first time, Francis outdid him by a margin of two to one. He stood on the observation deck looking out at the facility for over a minute as Williams watched in amusement.

  “I’ve seen some crazy things in my time,” Francis finally said. “But this tops them all.”

  “If it’s any consolation,” Williams said. “I still get goose bumps every time I see it again. It’s a shame Peter Bershadsky never got to see it like this. You could say this place is the culmination of his life’s work.”

  “I wish Jesse could have seen this,” Francis said.

  “Who?”

  “It’s a long story. Perhaps I’ll tell it to you sometime. Preferably over cold beers.”

  “It’s a deal,” Williams said. “Now if you’re done being amazed, I thought you might like something to eat.”

  “Lead the way.”

&
nbsp; They left the dock and walked toward the houses on the waterfront. Francis stopped when they reached them.

  “I think this is the most surreal moment of my life,” Francis said.

  “We call it Amity. After the –”

  “Jaws,” Francis finished. “I can see why.”

  When they reached the small movie theater with its classic round ticket booth below the canopy Francis stopped and stood looking at a poster in the window advertising an upcoming rerun of A Few Good Men.

  “You seen it?” Williams asked.

  Francis didn’t seem to hear him. He was transfixed by the poster. When he turned to Williams he said, “The security chief is ex-military, am I right?”

  “Yeah,” Williams said. “He was a lieutenant general in the army.”

  “I need to see him.”

  “What, now?” Williams asked.

  “Yes, right now.”

  “Sure, okay. Any particular reason?”

  “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

  When they reached the chief’s office there was no one there and the door was locked.

  “He’s probably in Richelle’s office,” Williams said. “Come on, it’s on the top floor.”

  Francis began to follow Williams, then suddenly turned and ran back toward the door. He hit it dead center with his right shoulder and it flew open, hit the wall and almost returned the favor on the rebound.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Williams said, looking astonished.

  Francis ignored him. He walked straight across the office to the chief’s desk and began opening the drawers. When he found one that was locked he kicked it twice and pulled it out with both hands.

  “Would you mind telling me what the hell you’re doing?” Williams said.

  “Looking for something?”

  “What?”

  “This,” Francis said and pulled a small book from the drawer.