26
The guard sat the prisoner down across from them on the other side of the plexiglass. There was a voice activated speaker that did away with the antiquated two-phone system of the past. Cameras were perched on the ceiling in multiple locations. The armed guards did not leave.
Savas and Cohen had driven north from the city into the heart of Upstate New York, the scenic Adirondack mountains. Miller remained at Intel 1, serving to coordinate the division’s activities in their absence as they waited for the results of the forensics. On the way up, Lightfoote had informed them of the progress on the drones and Lopez and Houston’s plans to infiltrate the New Jersey plant. It was reckless, but Savas had to concede that it was necessary. The finer points of legality and admissibility seemed to matter little when the city was locked down by the National Guard. It had taken them an hour simply to get permission to leave Manhattan.
The prisoner stared across the composite glass with apparent bemusement. He was lanky and his posture slovenly, body nearly vanishing in the folds of his overlarge gray and tan uniform. A baby face aged by a short growth of beard grinned at them as his fingers drummed incessantly.
“Laurens Hanert?” began Savas as the pair of FBI agents settled into chairs. Cohen swiped across her tablet and opened several files.
Hanert smiled. “Who wants to know?”
“FBI Special agents Savas and Cohen. New York.”
Hanert leaned forward with a smile. “Federal special agents. Well, well, well. What brings you two all the way up here? Don’t you have a national crisis to solve?”
Cohen scowled. “I’m sure you can imagine why.”
“An-on-y-mous.” He broke out each syllable in slow motion, seeming to relish every moment. “Remind me why I’m locked up in here?”
Cohen set her lips in a line. “Hanert, the judge slammed you, no doubt. But you weren’t a nihilist. You were an activist. You can’t tell me you approve of what has happened.”
“FBI girl with a heart. I like that. You must be good cop. In fact, you remind me of the lady that cuffed me when they flash-bombed my bong-session at home. America is lucky to have you folks on the job.”
Savas cut in. “Why do you have any loyalty to Anonymous? They ratted you out.”
“Please, at least pretend you’re not as stupid as you sound. It’s a distributed group, Einstein. Anarchist. There isn’t an Anonymous. There are as many as there are people and groups within it. I was sold out by one motherfucker who decided to protect his own ass when he fucked up. He set me up to cut time served. You folks gave him that deal. I don’t blame Anonymous for this,” he said, rapping on the glass and gesturing around him. “And you shouldn’t blame them for what’s happening now.”
Cohen tilted her head to one side. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, pretty agent girl, that you need to take that bloodbath broadcast seriously. One very disturbed dude with an I’m-the-real-Anonymous delusion of grandeur. The rest of us are as Oh Shit! as you FEDs are.”
“Do you know who he is?” asked Savas.
“We all know who he is. Those of us who were in deep. There is only one nut job with the chops to pull this off.”
Savas leaned forward. “And who is that?”
Hanert smiled. “What’s Batman say? ‘If you make yourself more than just a man’?”
“That was Ducard,” said Cohen. “And it’s a legend.”
“No fake geek girl here!” Hanert paused and looked between them. “Interesting. There’s some chemistry between you two! Tell me, gramps, you banging this one? You getting some? ’Cause she’s hot.”
“What legend?” asked Savas, his voice strained.
The prisoner’s smile fell. “Right now I should be asking for early parole or something. But honestly, I think this damn place might be safer than being on the outside from here on out.” He leaned forward, his expression serious for the first time. “You know why communism never worked?”
Savas blinked. “I don’t see what—”
“Because it’s based on perching society at the top of an unstable equilibrium. I mean, forget all that ‘give to those in need from what you have’ Marxist ivory tower bullshit. Sounds nice. Would be a good Sunday school lesson if people understood a fucking thing in the Bible. But it’s a god-damned local maxima!”
“I’m not following,” said Savas, who looked to Cohen. She was staring intently at Hanert.
“Jesus, don’t they teach even basic math to you special agents? How are you going to understand the economy or cybercrime? Look, for an economic system you want stability. Communism ain’t it, because all it takes is one person — a single fucking non-saint — to start being a selfish asshole and the whole thing collapses. Of course, usually you get groups of selfish assholes that form parties and blocks and structures to protect their power. But I digress. It’s inherently unstable! Like a car perched at the top of a hill. Release the brakes and zoom! That’s Anonymous.”
“How’s that?” asked Cohen.
“It’s a leaderless, structureless anarchy. That’s nice for flexibility and isolating different cells when you Feds come knocking. But its weakness is in the Selfish Asshole. One person can assume control of it before it can be stopped. This new real Anonymous of live televised massacre notoriety. And that person is Fawkes.”
“Fawkes?” asked Savas. “As in Guy Fawkes?”
Hanert slumped back in his chair. “Yeah. I mean who takes that handle? Mt. Everest ego. But this wacko was like Mozart. He could play the hell out of the code.”
Savas shook his head. “You’re telling me that there is a single individual — this Fawkes — who is responsible for what is happening? I don’t believe you.”
“Look man, I don’t care what you believe.”
Savas continued. “Who is he, then?”
“Hell if I know. It’s not like we all got around and passed the hash pipe. It’s called Anonymous for a reason, you know.”
Cohen pressed. “Doesn’t this Fawkes need other members of Anonymous to help? An infrastructure? You can’t orchestrate multiple bombings, kidnappings, and hackings without money and people. A small army.”
“No doubt.”
“And so?”
“So, it isn’t Anonymous. None of the main players anyway.”
“And how would you know that?” asked Savas.
Hanert smirked. “I have my ways of knowing. Even in here. Believe me when I tell you that the main hacker groups aren’t involved. It’s a ridiculous idea, anyway. They aren’t terrorists. Most wouldn’t know which way to point a fucking gun.”
“I want contact information on all of these groups. How can we find them?”
“Fuck you, man.”
Cohen spoke. “Hanert, one of them might know something that can lead us to this Fawkes. We’re not interested in them right now. They may have broken one hundred federal statutes, but in the larger context that’s background noise. You can see how serious this is. You know about the worm, I assume?”
He nodded. “Yeah. We all do now.”
“Then you know what’s at stake. Please. You have to trust us. And we need to trust you to tell us what we need to know. Anonymous was about changing a corrupt system. But right now the entire system is about to be blown up.”
“That’s Fawkes. His conclusion. Some agreed with him.”
“Do you?” Cohen locked eyes with him.
“No. Far more damage than gain. We could go back to the Stone Age.”
“Then you’ll give us names?” asked Savas.