“Tell us what?” asks Tori, her voice quivering slightly with emotion as she turns to Schultz.
He sits up in his chair and fidgets with his hands in front of him, searching for the words.
“They… ah… they said—”
“They said that because I killed over twenty NSA agents, and a couple of CIA guys to boot, I get to be guilty of pretty much whatever they want,” I say, interrupting him. “Am I right?”
Schultz sighs heavily. I get up and walk around the table, taking a deep breath as I head over to stand next to him.
“Adrian…” says Tori as she stands and walks over to me. “Can’t you just go to the authorities? Explain what happened? You have proof that things weren’t what they thought… they’ll believe you.”
I can hear the desperation in her voice, and it makes my heart hurt knowing she cares so much for me.
I look at Schultz. “Give me the flash drive with the evidence on it,” I say to him.
Reluctantly, he hands it over. It’s small, maybe three inches long and an inch wide. It’s like a fat pen — gray plastic with a cap that you unclip to reveal the USB connector. I regard it for a moment in my hand before pocketing it.
“I can’t turn myself in, baby,” I say to Tori, showing her the flash drive. “This evidence proves the CIA masterminded a terrorist attack on American soil. It’d bring the whole country to its knees in minutes. Realistically, this information can’t ever come out. But the threat of it coming out is enough to give me some space, should the CIA get too close to me. But they’re going to make me public enemy number one, and the only thing I can do about that is run. I’m gonna have a lot of people looking for me for a long time… This evidence is my protection.”
I put my hand on her head and hold her close to me.
I look at Josh, hoping he has something insightful to say that will make everything alright. Just as he’s about to say something, his laptop starts beeping, and everyone turns to him. He frowns and opens it up, examining the screen.
“That can’t be right…” he mutters after a moment.
“What is it?” I ask.
“You saw Cunningham’s press conference, right? After he said Cerberus had been decommissioned, I ran a program to try to hack the mainframe. I figured all the security would be down, and it’d be easy to walk right in. It was a shot in the dark, but I was seeing if there was any information from the attacks stored on there that we could use to help further prove what really happened.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” I say. “Did you find anything?”
“Well, no… that’s the strange thing — the program didn’t work because all the security is still in place.” He looks up but silence greets him. “Which means Cerberus isn’t deactivated,” he explains.
Freeman stands and walks behind him. “But the president himself said it was,” he says. “That makes no sense.”
“Exactly,” agrees Josh. “Why would he lie? Just give me a minute here.” He falls silent, as he rapidly taps away on the keyboard, and we all exchange confused glances. “The servers are fully functional, which means so is the satellite,” he says. “Which means someone has to be in control. I’m trying to trace where the servers are being accessed from now.”
“Surely it’ll be from ComForce?” asks Raynor. “That’s where it’s all based, right?”
“It is, but that building’s on lockdown, and still likely surrounded by the media. No way could a team big enough and smart enough to operate a satellite get in without anyone asking any questions.”
“So it’s being accessed remotely?” I ask.
“Yup,” he says as his laptop beeps again. “And it’s being accessed from…”
He’s silent for a moment, transfixed on the screen with his jaw slackened in clear surprise.
“Josh…?” I ask.
He looks up, with a bewildered expression on his face. “It’s being accessed from the White House.”
A palpable silence falls in the room. My mind is screaming at a million miles an hour in every direction — a thousand snippets of information come flooding to the forefront of my brain all at once. I pace up and down the room, trying to make some sense of the chaos inside my head.
Someone in the White House is using Cerberus right now…
The president lied about scrapping the satellite…
“This doesn’t make any sense,” says Wallis.
I hold up my hand straight away. “Quiet, I’m thinking…”
I feel everyone’s eyes look at me. I’m standing near the door, and I turn to face the room. I meet Josh’s gaze, seeing his cogs working like mine.
The president lied…
He also said they’d captured El-Zurak, which was bullshit. I assumed Matthews had told him that, as part of his master plan, but what if he didn’t?
What if President Cunningham knew El-Zurak was already dead? He certainly put a very good spin on it for the media. I know the guy’s good, but was that speech a little too rehearsed? Or am I reading too much into it?
Matthews’ plan was extravagant to say the least. Could he have done it alone? It’s possible, I guess. But it would’ve been a lot easier with approval…
My paranoia is giving way to reason, and the more I think about things, the more it makes sense.
“This was a set-up,” I say. “From day one.”
“We know,” says Wallis. “Matthew’s admitted it to us, and you have the evidence.”
“I know, but Matthews lied about one thing.”
Josh slams his fist on the desk, startling everyone. “Cunningham…” he says slowly.
“The president?” asks Raynor. “Are you saying he knows about what the CIA did?”
“I think he’s more than just aware of it,” I say. “I think he’s behind it. All of it. I think Matthews was a pawn.”
Freeman stands and walks over the window opposite, staring out momentarily at the expanse of GlobaTech’s empire before turning to face me.
“Adrian, that’s a pretty big claim,” he says. “And you have no evidence. I know you’re facing a lifetime on the run from the CIA, but don’t you think you’re clutching at straws here?”
I shake my head. “Look at the facts, and the logic,” I say. “Cerberus was commissioned by Cunningham to be built by NASA and GlobaTech, right? We already know features were added to it afterward, giving it the capability to steal other country’s nuclear weapons… who would have authorized that? Since he was elected, Cunningham’s made these amazing changes, and given the U.S. an unrivalled time of prosperity. But how did he do that? I remember reading up on it days ago. It was unprecedented having such a massive reshuffle in the White House — he appointed his own directors in the CIA, FBI, NSA… he appointed new people in every position in the National Security Council — including the Secretary of Defense.” I cast a mostly-sympathetic look over to Schultz, who’s listening intently to what I’m saying.
“Once he’d done that, he then legalized cocaine and prostitution. No president in history has even dared to think about doing something like that, yet he suggested it, and it was almost unanimously approved… as soon as he did that, it took a couple of months to pretty much stop all crime. No more drug cartels, because we’re suddenly selling coke over the counter at the local Seven-Eleven. Then, I come along and stumble across a cartel running guns for the CIA. Matthews himself admitted it was perfect using them, because no one would ever look for one if they suspected anything, as they’re not meant to exist anymore.”
“Cunningham’s behind everything, isn’t he?” asks Josh, somewhat rhetorically.
I shrug. “I think so,” I say. “I think this is a very clever and very elaborate plan, made and implemented by nothing more than a glorified dictator.”