I smile again, weakly. “Yeah…”
“Quit blamin’ yourself for what happened — any of it. This was all something so big, there’s no way any one man — or group of individuals — could’ve stopped it. So deal with that and focus on the here and now. We’ve got a whole new set of problems to worry about.”
A soldier appears in front of us. He has an MP armband around his right bicep.
“On your feet, all of you,” he says.
He unlocks the cell and holds the door open. We walk out in single file — first Wallis, then Raynor, then me. The MP walks alongside us as the CIA squad escorts us through the holding area and up into the main barracks — three in front, three behind. They show us to an office and open the door before stepping back. We look at each other and walk inside. The door closes behind us, and I see through the glass that they’ve left us alone.
Inside, the office is nicely furnished, and has a warm feel to it, which is rare on an army base — I’ve always found things were kept quite impersonal. File cabinets line the wall to the right of us. To the left is a black leather sofa, with a TV mounted above it. There’s a news channel on, muted.
There’s a desk in front of us with a nameplate on it, but little else. Behind it is a walnut leather chair, occupied by Special Agent-in-Charge David Freeman. He’s resting forward on the surface, staring at us. Standing to his left is Ryan Schultz.
“Isn’t this a good ol’ fashioned family reunion,” I say, flippantly. “Nice of you to join us, Ryan. Where the fuck have you been?”
“Reel that shit in, son,” he says in his Texan drawl, pointing his finger at me. “I’ve been bustin’ my hump tryin’ to save your ass.”
I turn and look at the TV, which as expected, is showing nothing but images of the fallout from yesterday. I point to it and look back at Schultz.
“And how’s that going?”
He sighs heavily, perhaps sensing my mood and realizing it’s not the best time to argue with me. I turn to Special Agent Freeman.
“And have you finally decided which side you’re on, asshole?”
He stands, slamming his hands on the desk. “Hey! Watch your tone, you piece of shit — I was doing my goddamn job!”
I take a step forward, seeing an opportunity to let out some frustration by beating this guy’s head into the desk, but Wallis steps across and cuts me off, placing a hand on my chest.
“Knock it off, Adrian,” he says. “Nothing these two have done was wrong, and you know it.”
I hold my hands up and walk away, staring at the TV.
“What do you guys know about what’s happened?” Wallis asks them.
“I only know what I’ve been told by my superiors, and what I saw on the news,” says Freeman. “But when I found out the CIA had captured you all in Atlanta and were bringing you here, I came over for Wallis. Ryan found me and told me… quite a story — which I’m still finding hard to believe, if I’m honest.”
“Hard as it is to believe, it’s no less true,” adds Schultz. “And I’ve got evidence to prove it.”
I turn around and look at him. “You have proof?” I ask. “Of what, exactly?”
“Of the CIA’s involvement,” he replies. “Financial records which can track the funding of a renegade cartel in Colombia, as well as the original intelligence reports on the Armageddon Initiative that GlobaTech provided months ago as a courtesy. When compared to the briefings fed down to other agencies, it’s clear that the information has been doctored to suit their cover story, and make us all scapegoats for what they were helping Hamaad El-Zurak do all along. It then became all about stopping GlobaTech and apprehending anyone helping them, so they could carry on funding the Armageddon Initiative behind the scenes with no one looking in their direction.”
“This is good news. How did you get all this?”
“I spent a lot of time with the NSA over the last week. I’ve learned a few things off your friend, Josh, so when we found ourselves in their crosshairs, I did a bit of digging. Another thing I found was a report from the upper echelons of the CIA to their equivalents in the FBI, detailing how Yalafi Hussein was an agency asset currently in play and was to be shown discretion during any operations to apprehend us.”
“Shit… that explains why the D.E.A.D. unit was sent to take me out. They said I stole government property when I took Hussein’s laptop back in New York. If Hussein was listed as an asset, then technically I guess I did.”
“Exactly. They covered their tracks pretty well.”
“But even if Hussein was working for the CIA, why would he be discussing a top secret government satellite with the director?” asks Wallis.
Schultz shrugs. “My guess? They’ll say he was gathering intelligence on terrorist activity, and they were using the satellite to verify it. Forget what Cerberus could do, that’s what it was initially designed for.”
“That’s pretty weak,” I say.
“I know it is, but it’s still plausible. And I just thought of that on the spot. The most powerful and secretive intelligence agency in the world has had months to think of a believable reason.”
“Jesus Christ…”
I turn away and pace slowly toward the door, but the images on the TV catch my eye.
“Hey, turn this up,” I say over my shoulder.
On screen is a live press conference from outside the White House. President Cunningham is standing at a podium on the front lawn, with General Thomas Matthews at his side.
The indicator appears on the screen as the volume rises, and we hear the president’s speech.
“…our thoughts and prayers are with the families of the victims, and the survivors, in the nations that were subjected to these truly horrific attacks by the terrorist organization known as the Armageddon Initiative.”
Along the bottom of the screen is a ticker, scrolling right to left, showing the number of deaths in all the countries fired upon. Over nine hundred thousand dead in China… three quarters of a million dead in Turkey… two hundred thousand dead in Pakistan… another half million in South Korea…
My God!
“These unforgiveable attacks took us all by surprise,” the president continues. “I will concede that our technology was manipulated in a way we didn’t know was possible, and I have taken action to have Project: Cerberus decommissioned with immediate effect. It was designed to help protect the citizens of our great nation, and indeed across all nations, but instead it was used to hurt them. From this day forth, the United States will set aside all foreign policies and treaties. We will wipe all existing debts. We will help those who need it most; no matter how long it takes, no matter how much it costs. We… will… make… this… right!”
He pauses as a thunderous round of applause and cheering breaks out.
“This is bullshit,” I say to the room.
On screen, President Cunningham holds up his hands so the audience will calm down.
“Now, even in these darkest of times, there is light. I can reveal that thanks to the efforts of our intelligence community, and the brave men and women serving our country, we have captured the men responsible for these attacks. Many of the terrorists involved were killed during the operation, but I can now confirm to you that we have the leader of the organization, Hamaad El-Zurak, in custody at a secure location where he’s undergoing interrogation…”
“Bullshit!” I yell. “I shot the bastard myself!”
“…I would like to personally thank the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency, General Thomas Jack Matthews, for working to bring this evil individual to justice.”
President Cunningham turns and shakes Matthews’ hand, and then waves to the crowd.
Unbelievable.