All the Company Men: Marcus Grimshaw #2 (The Secret State)

by C. J. Steinberg

  Marcus was not scared though, like in the days of Fallujah. The experience from a year ago when he died had changed him; he had no fear, but he had no desire to die either. He was the perfect soldier again. With that in mind, he pulled the pin from the grenade and rolled it across the scaffolding.

  The boom was devastating; it blew away one man, brought the entire scaffolding down in a cloud of dust and a hymn of death as on the men on the third floor let his bullets loose. A loud thud followed the settling of the scaffolding in a cloud of dust, and the only man that appeared in control was Marcus. He was the first one on his feet and the first one to shoot. He couldn’t see much or breathe properly, but he let the rifle guide him. Suddenly, back and forth fire erupted on the scaffolding. The bullets whistled by their heads, the splinters of the crates came flew all over the place, almost blinding Jack. Marcus bent down to change his clip and resumed shooting immediately.

  “That guy on the climb is becoming a problem,” Jack shouted.

  “Cover me,” Marcus replied. As Jack took aim ahead of him, Marcus moved from behind the cover, took a deep breath and pulled the trigger when the man on the climb appeared. Blood sprayed from his face as he fell back in a jerk motion. Jack, too, had managed to take a victim in the carnage. One man remained ahead of them, hiding behind his cover. Jack and Marcus held their shooting, aiming at the same spot. Then the bullets came from below, through the scaffolding, bullets neither of them had noticed before. The steel screeched and the scaffolding shifted, knocking the rifle out of Jack’s hands. He watched it twist in the air before it fell to the ground and all he could do was curse at it. Marcus saw that and took the duty upon himself to remove the last remaining man. As he took his aim and the man popped from behind the cover, the scaffolding plummeted, crashing into the one on the floor below, breaking it through, and sending them all the way down to the ground floor. The air was knocked out of Marcus’ lungs. Jack was stammering to his feet, going toward the rifle that was laid on the ground next to him. A dead man’s gun was just as good as that off the production line. He moved on all fours as fast as he could, took the rifle, and aimed at nothing in particular until he spotted a man only three feet away from him with a pistol aimed at his head. Then the man jerked back and fell into a puddle of his own blood. Jack followed the trajectory of the fall until he spotted Marcus sprawled on the floor with a pistol in his hand. Their eyes met, and Jack nodded to his friend. Marcus took a deep breath when he realized that shooting had seized. His lungs were hurting, his eyes burning, but still he found the strength to get up. “We’re at the finish line,” Jack said, taking his rifle and standing up on his feet.

  “Not yet,” Marcus groaned. “There is one more.”

  Jack shook his head and pointed to his right. Under the scaffolding a man was sprawled out, only his upper body visible, severed from the rest of him. “He’s out, too,” Jack said, taking a moment to collect himself.

  “Damn,” Marcus said. “Let’s go, brother. Come on.” They walked off the rubble and went for the entrance as quickly as they could, determined to reach the car before anyone else shows up. It was true that there was the helicopter in the sky, but that was a problem they would have to solve at a later time.

  A new sound they hand’t heard before filled the space around them. Jack looked straight ahead and spotted a heavy man standing on the ground with a six-barrel machine-gun in his hands. The barrels were slow to gain their speed, giving him enough time to push Marcus to the side before the bullets started flying. For him, though, it was too late.

  Marcus laid on the ground watching his friend’s body riddled with bullets from the machine gun, tossing his body left and right as it slowly fell to the ground. A thick red line of blood was going down Jack’s cheek from his twitching eye. Marcus realized that his best friend, the only other man who understood what they were doing and how important it was, had died. He screamed from the top of his lungs and stepped outside, pistol in his hand. His screaming continued as he let the bullets fly, but the man across from him was unwavering. His weapon loaded slowly with a sound akin to a sci-fi battleship and the bullets flew through the air. Marcus leapt behind a steel support beam of building and pressed against it hard. He was struggling with the fear of being killed by a turret, the grief of losing a great friend, and the need to continue forward. He could feel the vibrations of every bullet that hit the beam on his body; it felt as if someone was beating him with a steel pipe. But he couldn’t let in to the pain. And he couldn’t let in into the pain in his heart. He had to wait for an opportunity, and he had to take it.

  Maybe he was hallucinating, or maybe it was truly happening, but Marcus felt like Jack had coughed, showing a sign of life. He could swear that Jack’s head was in a different position the last time he saw him. Then the fatal flaw of the turret gun showed itself—the gun overheated. Marcus let the clip slide out of his pistol and he put in another one. As he stepped from behind the beam, he cocked his pistol, aimed it, and fired. The man was already on the run towards cover with an M14 rifle in his hands, but Marcus was determined. He fired again, then moved the pistol farther to the right, ahead of the man, and fired again, hitting his target in the head and knocking him to the floor. With his hands outstretched and his pistol aimed at the sprawled out body, he walked forward, breathing heavily, covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. As he was getting closer, he fired again into the body of the man, who groaned in pain. It often so happened that people are only knocked out by shot, so they play dead, and when you relax, they kill you. Marcus wasn’t going to allow that. He shot again from the distance at the body, and then, when he got close enough, fired two more shots into the man’s head.

  He roared wildly, releasing all his anger, adrenaline, fear, and pain out into the world. Then he aimed the pistol at the man’s head and fired, again and again and again. And when the clip was empty, he kept firing, until he broke into tears to the clicking of his empty pistol. That wild roar from the depths of his body came again out of him. He was panting, very close to crying, but tears weren’t in him.

  “How much more will you take from me,” he said into the sky, listening to that ominous racket of the helicopter. “How much more do I have to give?” Evelyn, Jack, Joseph; his youth, his thirties, his life; he had given everything, and they still wanted more. “They can’t keep getting away with this,” he said to no one in particular. Feeling empty on the inside, Marcus went to his dearly departed friend. He grabbed his lifeless body and tossed it over his shoulder and trekked toward the SUV parked outside.

  As he loaded Jack’s body into the vehicle, he could hear the chopper in the air and distant police sirens. It is only a matter of seconds before they were upon him, but he didn’t care; in a minute, he will be gone. “And then I will come for you,” he said, staring at the chopper. If he could take Thoros out, then he can take down Daniel.

  Marcus sat into the SUV and went back a few yards before he turned the tires toward the road and stepped onto the gas pedal. In the closed car, somewhere in the back, he could hear a phone vibrating.

  TWENTY

  E velyn was feeling a powerful headache coming on as she opened her eyes to a distant and foggy world, one lost in a dimension unknown to her. Where was she? What happened to her? The last thing she remembered was going to her car for her ride home and then... Then what?

  “She’s coming to,” a voice said from far, far away, the words coming to her ears more as an echo than a spoken sentence.

  “Evelyn, do you hear me,” a different voice spoke up. It came from an even farther place than the first voice, echoing from depths scary and unbeknownst. In response, she groaned. Where am I, she wanted to ask, letting out sloppy and quiet words.

  “We’re losing her again,” the voice said.

  Maybe an hour or a minute later, Evelyn opened her eyes again. The world was blurred but contours were becoming apparent, revealing reality once more. A man in gray pants was standing in front of her, a man whose face she coul
d not discern at first. He pulled up his pants and squatted in front of her. She could feel him staring at her, unable to acknowledge it in any meaningful way.

  “Where am I,” she asked aloud as the man in front of her split into two people before he merged into a complete figure.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” Daniel said with his heavy accent. Oh, God, she thought. Her instincts warned her of an awry situation ahead of her, of the bad reason she was in that situation. Her brain, on the other hand, was very late with making the connection that she was, in fact, tied up to a chair.

  “Calm down, Evelyn,” Daniel responded to her panicked reaction. “There is nowhere you can go or anything you can do.”

  His southern droll was getting to her slowly but surely, waking her up from her coma-like state of mind. “Why am I here,” she asked.

  Daniel let out a chuckle. He looked back to the man in the corner of the room, whom Evelyn recognized immediately—Jonathan Burr, the CIA director. She had to laugh at the situation. She knew she was caught, and she knew there was no going back now.

  “Alright,” she said simply.

  “Ah, Evelyn, I am so saddened by this entire situation with you. I had hoped that maybe, with a gentle push, you would realize that my way is the only way for the world to move forward. But you wanted to push your own agenda, didn’t you.” Daniel paused. “Why did you betray me, Evelyn?”

  “I didn’t betray you,” Evelyn said.

  Something overcame Daniel. The deadly gaze he aimed at Evelyn made her bones move. “Don’t lie to me,” he said. His voice was colder than the weather outside. Evelyn had never seen that before.

  “I never betrayed you,” she repeated. “Because I never was on your side in the first place.” She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She knew her time had come for the judgment she was facing for a while now. She was ready for it, but she had to clear her conscience.

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means that you killed my father. You killed him. You took his life away from him and effectively took him away from me.” Her voiced had gone up by several octaves. “And for what? So you could become more influential in Germany? You idiot! They never wanted you as one of their own.”

  Daniel was confused for a moment, appearing almost conflicted. “Who was your father?” He asked with a heavy voice, one reflecting his inner battle.

  “Detlev Rohwedder,” Evelyn said with severe bitterness in her voice. “One of the greatest men that ever lived.”

  Daniel looked over his shoulder at Jonathan Burr, yet both their faces were revealing nothing. Then Jonathan Burr shook his head. “We had nothing to do with that,” Daniel said. “The Stasi killed Detlev.”

  “Bullshit,” Evelyn screamed at him. “You did it. I found the proof. You and the Company.”

  Daniel kept his stare focused deep into Evelyn’s eyes, his expression perplexed. In his eyes, Evelyn could see all the evil and all the pain in his eyes, the analysis of the situation set before him right now. It didn’t make sense to Daniel. Then his faced reverted to the usual confident look, accompanied by an air of certainty.

  “It does not matter in the long run anyway,” Daniel said. “As many people have been sacrificed for the sake of a better and more prosperous world. Whether I had anything to do with the death of Rohwedder or not changes nothing. Maybe it was necessary, or maybe not. The plan still moves forward.”

  “Oh, yeah? How is Covid going for you? Still influencing Sweden to help you in the EU? How is your favored president, then? His tenure didn’t last very long, did it?” Daniel snapped back at her, his eyes wide and filled with rage. “Yeah, I know all about your master plan. I know everything, and I am not the only one.” It was a desperate effort to take away the pleasure of killing her away from Daniel, or perhaps incite him to kill her sooner instead of prolonging the inevitable.

  But then his face changed. Even Jonathan Burr smiled. “Oh, Evelyn, Evelyn, Evelyn,” he said, shaking his head. “How naive you are. You are convinced that what you know is all there is to know. You think that because your friends saw the gala and the meeting in the woods that you have the upper hand. Yeah, I know about that. I also know about Patrick Don and the break-in. Though you people have a lot of information about us, none of you will live long enough to share it with the world.”

  “They already shared it,” Jonathan interjected.

  Daniel acted like he had forgotten all about it. “Indeed, yes, they shared it. And what happened? Huh, Evelyn, where did that information get you?”

  “Jim Morris is no longer the president,” Evelyn said with a lot of spite in her voice.

  Daniel leaned in. Evelyn could feel his warm breath on her sweaty face. “Jim Morris was never the plan, deary. What you and your dumb friends have managed to achieve for me is move my plan forward by several years. You cleared the path for the real choice to take the White House without having to wait or play any games.”

  Evelyn was struck with the realization. “Wilson Burns,” she whispered.

  Daniel nodded slowly and repeatedly. His condescension was infuriating her, but the heavy consequences of her actions and the threat of imminent demise suppressed her ego and pride.

  “Yes,” Daniel continued. “Wilson Burns is a Company man, the choice we always had in mind to take the White House, not Jim. Jim is weak and fragile and old. He never would have been able to carry our plan forward.”

  “Never,” Jonathan said from the corner.

  “His wife, on the other hand, is very important to us. She will retain her influence in the background, pushing our agenda forward, with Wilson Burns now the president of these United States. Despite all your efforts to stop us, you have actually managed to help us. You have sped up my plans by at least three years.” His serious face spread into a grin, and then into a light laughter. Evelyn wanted to yank off her restraints and punch Daniel in his perfect teeth, just to make him bleed. How could that be true about the president? How could they have been deceived so to make such a foolish move? Then Evelyn remembered who was standing across from her, and it all started to make sense.

  “I can see the grinds moving in that pretty little head of yours,” Daniel said. “Allow me to alleviate the pressure of figuring it out. Because it’s very simple, Evelyn. Very simple.

  “See, we have been watching you for many years now. We gave you promotions because we wanted you on our side, because we recognized the talent you possess. After dear Thoros left this world, you were different, odd even, and it told me that your head was not in the game. So I had to devise a few plans to make it all happen exactly as I’ve envisioned it so many years ago.

  “The first step was to get rid of George Morrow. He was a good man, but he knew too much and his loyalties had begun to shift. So he went away. Our position was safe after his death. And that is where my campaigning for Jim Morris came into public focus. God, politicians! They are just robots, I swear. They have no soul, no principles, no value whatsoever. And the way into their hearts and heads is by pampering them, by raising their hand in front of billionaires to make them feel special.” Daniel sighed. His expression was of genuine disappointment and dislike; he was honest with Evelyn. She wondered if maybe there was still a way out of her situation.

  “For years, we have been locked out of the White House thanks to that orange-headed fool. With Jim, we were coming back in. Then—the idea was—after he pleases the corporate cabal of America, Wilson knocks him off the throne, takes the position for himself, and the real agenda begins. That was the idea. An idea you moved forward without even knowing it. Hell, I didn’t know it!” Daniel smiled, a strange twinkle in his eye from all the excitement he was feeling. “Somehow, Jack had survived the ordeal. Somehow, he got out of there with documents that George was holding on to. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that they followed us to the meeting in the woods. When I spotted that Didier guy at the gala, I almost cheered inside. I never thought much about them boys or that they stood a gen
uine chance, but there they were, at the gala, and then they went on to fight me with Arthur Erickson and all his articles.” Daniel abruptly stopped talking. Evelyn in that moment realized that her time had run out completely, that Daniel was as diabolical as he was powerful. She had tried to fight a man who got pleasure from conflict, and how could she have ever hoped to stop a man like that from what he was intending?

  “Goodness gracious,” Daniel said, shaking his head, a smile plastered on his face. “And to top it all off, they somehow get to Patrick. And they get more information! How is that even possible?” He seemed like a kid who was discovering the world around him, lost in his curiosity and amazement. The difference being that Daniel was a sixty-year-old billionaire.

  “Oh, worthy opponents you turned out to be, all of you.” Then his face changed. “But you are all going to die, and it is going to happen today. Though impressive, you have still failed to see the big picture. Whilst I was campaigning for Jim, making all these moves in public, making you get lost in the avalanche of Company secrets and machinations, I was able to make the real moves in the background. And none of what you know and what was made public will matter anyway. In but a few short months, the world will be permanently cured. All the chaos, all the suffering, all the difference in wealth will no longer matter. And you made that possible, Evelyn. You did it.

  “I was truly impressed by you and how you handled business. When Thoros was killed, you were next in line to take his position. Then your behavior changed. So I had you followed. Then I saw you meeting a strange man in Central Park, a man my sources identified as German Intelligence. See, the reason I let you carry on the way you did was because of that. I wanted to see whom you were working for and what their plan was.” Daniel paused, processing something inside his head, leaving his speech lingering in the air.

  “But I still wanted you to be on my side,” he said softly. “I wanted you to see the truth, to see that this world is gone, that living in society as it is now cannot be sustained. I invited to our initiation, showed you from the inside how it all looks and works, and how larger than life it all is. I saw the fear when you stepped in and I had hoped that it would turn into awe and ecstasy, but it didn’t. You persisted. And for what?”