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Act of Conspiracy, Chapter VII: Compromise
Posted By: russ687<russ687@hotmail.com>
Date: 25 February 2005, 5:05 AM
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Chapter VII
Compromise
December 29, 2524
City of Standyle, Capital City
Pacificatorius, Atropos System
One block from Department of International Security, City Center
The temptation was nearly too strong to resist. It was the mental itch in the back of the mind, screaming for action to be taken. Avoiding such thoughts was impossible, and the mind kept wandering relentlessly back to the single thought, almost begging for something to be done, trying anything that would work; trying anything that would force a change.
Mitchell Branson fought hard against the torment lingering in the back of his mind. His arm wanted to reach down into his pistol's holster and bring out the weapon, his training dictated it, but his instincts told him not to. A small voice in the back of his head sharply rebuked it, and he knew such an action would result in his imminent death. It tore him apart with fear and apprehension as he walked deeper into the alleyway, passing through whisps of steam escaping from ventilation points along the sides of the buildings. Darkness dominated this part of the city, only broken at each end of the alleyway by the streetlamps that offered some sense of security.
Each step was filled with regret. He wanted to turn and run back to the safety of the main street, or at least bring out the very instrument that could save his life should danger appear. But neither choice was a real option; he had to continue walking forward, seeking this mystery that had forewarned him of a trap.
This could easily be another trap in itself, and he tried to ignore the yelling voice in his head telling him to run. The first trap in Levitian at the chief justice's house was one that had caught them all off guard, killing dozens of people even he knew. Now with this Nerve Agent ploy, he could only hope that they could ditch that bomb before it was too late. Damnit! He was at fault for this; he had made the call to combat the threat in order to stop the release of the Agent. How could this have been overlooked? Was what this man was saying true? Was the GDSO something they could never hope to beat?
They were losing. This terror organization was knocking them around, seemingly almost for fun. They hadn't retaliated in any way, and they had failed to stop any of the attacks that were carried out against the State's high-value sites. He never thought they could be whipped around so much as this and not even have the slightest initiative. It ate into him, and the wound was getting bigger with every step into this alleyway.
Could this man be trusted? His mind told him no, but what option did he have? He had let down his comrades and the State twice already, which didn't merit him much in the way of usefulness. Even if this was a trap, at least it would end his miserable life of watching the world around him shatter to pieces. At least it would end the guilt.
He thought hard. Was there anything even left worth fighting for? As far as he could recall at this very moment in time, the only thing he was doing is, like the man had said, delayed this inevitable takeover by the GDSO. Absolutely nothing had been done to stop this—at least nothing effective. Maybe this was his time to stick his neck out, and accept any consequences of such foolishness. He deserved nothing less then being fired from DIS, even if his past successes outweighed these two mistakes. Maybe it was just time.
"Mitch?" He heard Ryals yell from somewhere behind him. He choose to ignore it, opting to follow the steam trails into the darkness of this alleyway. If he was meant to come out of this on top, then he would. If not, then...
The figure appeared before him—then four more. Branson had to consciously yell at himself not to bring out the .40 pistol. Their black silhouettes looked very intimidating in the silence of this alleyway, and none of their faces could be recognized. Mitchell closed the phone and dropped it in his pocket slowly, taking several steps closer to the band of men. None of them moved at his bold steps forward.
"You are of a different breed," one of them said.
He looked quizzically at the one who had talked.
"You ignore conventional wisdom, and even common logic, to pursue the secrets that abide within. Would you consider that a good trait, Branson?"
No. "Depends upon the outlook."
The man took a step forward. "Vagueness? A virtue? In my life, it has been. Innumerable times that ability has come in handy, and no doubt you have used the circumstantial perception favored by men like us to accomplish your own agenda."
"I have no agenda."
The man laughed, and Branson recognized it as the one on the phone. "Every man has an agenda, you just have to search for it. But you already know this, and are probably trying to figure out my own, since I must have an agenda for summoning you out."
"Then save me the time, tell me."
"We all know the GDSO has stomped on your necks and taken a firm grasp of the citizens around us—not in fear, however, but in an ideal-based mentality that they are fighting to free them from the socialist style of government ruling over them. And it is working, far more then you know. People are beginning to turn, and once a mind is made up, it is lost forever."
"Simple psychology," Branson said. "But you are wrong about it being lost forever."
"You see? That is why you and your comrades fail. You think inside the box, like there has only been one way to accomplish things, like there is only one way to live. You cannot win against an evolving threat such as the GDSO in a stance such as this, where you end up—despite even your instincts, Branson—resorting to a conventional way of thinking to accomplish your agendas."
"Then what do you propose?"
"Simple. I have the solution to your problem, albeit not a 'nice' one. I know how to turn this around and slash the GDSO out of the picture."
"And you want in return...?"
"I want nothing, Branson. I have everything I could possibly want."
"You said it yourself, every man has an agenda."
The man paused briefly. "Then we shall discuss my terms? I will help you eradicate this terror threat on one condition."
Branson waited impatiently as another pause ensued.
"You have to give me some information."
"About what?"
He gestured forward. "Let's talk about this in my car."
New Sodham, Social Management District Headquarters, City Center
Blue Leader...
The numbness was consuming. In this white world blinded by the explosions, and muted by the subsequent sound blast, nothing was comprehendible. Everything was a blur, a realm twisted grotesquely into a vague collection of colors and sounds. It was the shock of such an experience; the body's reaction to a sudden elevation in light and sound intensities.
Randy Brient fought to concentrate in this world, and the thoughts he brought into existence slipped carelessly from his grasp and into the whiteness beyond. He tried to focus on anything, but it all passed him by, as if his attempts at sanity were nothing more then insignificant ploys to return to the reality that had existed before the explosion. He needed to return to that reality; enemies waited for him there, and question dauntingly needed answered.
"Blue Leader?"
The sound registered in his mind. The realm began to slip off as clarification began to seep steadily into his consciousness. The whiteness remained in his vision, and his hearing remained distant and dull, but he could think, and that was good enough.
"Yeah?" His response was groggy and slurred.
"SITREP?"
He ignored the invalidation of his senses and thought of what had happened. There really wasn't anything he could say, since the last thing he remembered seeing was the explosion, and nothing else. He didn't know if anyone was incapacitated or dead, or whether he was okay.
Brient felt around, then rolled onto his stomach. He pushed himself up, then rose shakily to a knee. He felt the blood run down from his head, and the inevitable light-headed offset washed over him. With no vision, and his equilibrium abnormal, he felt the short sensation of falling, and hit the floor face-first a second later. The pain was light, though, and he ignored it.
Blinking seemed to help, and the white in his vision began to fade away. He stumbled to a knee again, shaking off the disorientation, and felt the wall with his arm. Randy crawled over to it and rested his back against it, slumping down somewhat and taking deep breathes in. Come on, wear off...
Jakov leaned out from the door and the sub-machine gun snapped up, seeing the counter-terror team a little ways down the hallway. He had heard the explosion, but had thankfully been barricaded inside an office room. The hallway was littered with glass and debris, and the windows were blown out. His gaze wandered to the street outside, but he saw nothing but smoke. He understood now what his superior had meant. That was no Nerve Agent.
It was a trap for these men.
He withheld fire and looked closely at the men dressed in full back armor. All, except for one, were motionless on the floor, and the one that seemed to move had slumped helplessly against the wall. He slowly brought down the weapon, then looked back towards his comrades in the room. This was their chance to get out.
He motioned for them to come up, and had to force them not to fire on the downed counter-terror team in the hallway. He signaled for them to follow, then began silently and cautiously walking down the corridor, keeping a careful eye on the one that had moved a second before.
The sound of glass crumpled under his boot, and every step closer to these men frightened him. But if they could make it out unnoticed, they could escape without being trailed. Jakov and his four comrades stepped over and around the motionless bodies, their weapons ready in case anyone of them should regain consciousness. Small trails of blood were by some of the bodies, no doubt caused by the flying glass, and their awkward positions were true testimony to their fully unconscious state.
He rounded the corner and ran towards the first floor lobby. They could make it, and they would. Sounds of distant sirens quickened their pace, and they ran down the stairs quickly. He almost didn't believe such luck, as just moment earlier was getting ready to die.
Someone upstairs has their eye on me.
Brient shook his head and blinked rapidly. His vision slowly came back, but was quickly rattled by a massive headache, or rather concussion, and he refrained from moving. His body hurt, and any movement only aggravated the pain coursing through him. He felt for the switch and activated the radio.
"Blue Leader to all units, report."
There was a pause, for what seemed like minutes, before anyone responded.
"Red Team, we have two wounded, first floor."
There was another pause. "Green Team, no wounded, second floor."
"Gold Team, one wounded, first floor."
His heart started pumping faster as neither sniper team reported in. They were positioned outside, and were probably very close to the explosion. He hoped against hope that they were still alive.
"Blue Leader to Romeo One, I have partial accountability of my teams. At least five wounded, possibly seven, and two teams are unconfirmed."
The reply was quick. "Copy that, sit tight, supporting units are on their way."
Randy remained still, fighting off the throbbing pain in his head. Hopefully, none of those terrorist would find him or his teams in their incapacitated state. Moreover, hopefully none of them escaped.
"So what's our situation down there?"
The technician in the back accessed some information before answering Mahler's question.
"We have about seven wounded from our own teams, with five missing. Estimates of overall casualties from the explosive device are at least at fifty, possibly up to eighty or ninety. Additional emergency teams are now arriving on site, and the region's emergency response contingent is en route and will arrive in about thirty minutes. Some National Guard units are also on their way for additional security."
The situation had, quite literally, blown up in their faces. Mahler was glad that his own casualties—if any—were very low, but the first response agencies that had shown up had received a terrible loss. Those terrorist organizations had dealt a devastating blow, and they never saw it coming.
The only way this could have gone array was if the information he received turned out to be false. The flash message from DIS informed them of a chemical hazard threat, and the Director himself authorized their deployment to stop the threat. Never along the line was it even hypothesized that this could be another set up, much like the one in Levitian a couple days ago, and the precautions for such a trap where never considered.
It had proven to be a fatal mistake. Even Mahler overlooked it, not questioning the GDSO's motives about why they would gas they very people they were proclaiming to save. Such an oversight may have cost him five more of his specialists, along with a media nightmare that will drain the resolve out of everyone who fought against this global threat. This move on the terrorist's part was nothing short of brilliant, and had caught all of them with their backs turned.
They needed to retaliate, and fast. And most of all, the populace needed to see them react in kind.
Standyle, Downtown Area
The luxurious limousine drove lazily through the empty, midnight streets of the city. Traffic was nonexistent, and only a few lights from the high skyscrapers were on. People were sound asleep, and wouldn't hear about the events in New Sodham until the morning. It was a scary thought, since once word got out, the entire continent would be in chaos.
Questions about the State's competency would no doubt be raised, and sharp criticism from nearly every source would flow over the television and in the papers. Nobody would take the news well, and the support for the government would drop off significantly.
Branson leaned back, thinking. The GDSO wasn't playing an arms game, where they tried to take out the State's resources. The were playing a mind game, where they were trying to win support over from the people. It wasn't about taking out another government official or some building. It was about alienating the State from the people so support would dwindle down to their demise.
Why didn't he see this coming? This skirmish was never about material goods. It was about the citizens. Support from the people meant power, and if the government fell out of favor for losing against this threat, they would be useless. The thing about it that energized the situation was that most did not view the GDSO as a terrorist organization; they don't seen them as the enemy. Rather, they view them as some extremist group that is fighting for a fair cause. Because of this, opinion could swing easily in their favor, knocking the government to second place.
That was far from acceptable. No matter what, the GDSO could never be allowed to take power. Even if their ideals were to eradicate any form of government and let the people "roam" free, with them in power, Atropos would fall to crime and excessive corruption. The very leaders of this organization were evil men in themselves, and although their values may seem acceptable to the public, their virtues would lead to a failing society. They could never be allowed to take control.
Branson stared over at the man he had spoken with, who turned out to be none other then Richard Langston. He had seen Langston's file before, and had seen the man on the news. A very successful entrepreneur, the man had banked billions through a variety of businesses, ranging from inter-System trade to planetary services. He was well reputed to hold monopolies in several Systems, and had strings everywhere. His work didn't stop at commerce, though. Langston was—unofficially, that is—known for his meddling in politics, and no doubt had significant control over every major partisan in Atropos.
Langston had come up several times for conspiracy charges, though those thoughts would never reach public eye. He was accustomed to getting his way, and anything he couldn't influence with his notoriety he could buy with his monetary power. But this man wasn't some desk jockey, he got out and achieved his agenda on his own. A man to always take the initiative for his own gain, if it could be done, Langston could do it.
That was completely evident to Mitchell, since the billionaire took the effort to meet him in person in some alleyway. It was surprising to see the man accomplish such a chore personally, but if it meant enough to the man, he would take care of it himself. Whatever this was, it had to be important.
"So we have agreed on this point," Langston said, breaking the silence. "We have agreed that the GDSO is taking the victory over your precious State. But we disagree that letting them just take to power is unacceptable, for the reasons you told me."
Branson nodded.
"Since their success cannot happen—well, since you don't want it to happen, I can make sure that they proceed no further in their fight. I can ensure that the State remains in power, and that the people keep their full support behind their beloved government. Though as you pointed out, I have my own agenda to fulfill, and my support does not come free."
The man wasn't talking about monetary reimbursement. He had all the money he could ever want. Rather, he was speaking of something more important then money, which worried Branson.
"What do you want in return?"
He leaned back. "Have you ever heard of Epipotheo Kratos?"
Branson squinted, recalling hearing the name before. It had been part of a hushed report that had passed briefly through his department, and had something to do with a foreign world. It wasn't in Atropos, but some unknown system purposefully "forgotten" by DIS and ONI for some reason. He sighed; not much information was ever heard about it, then or afterwards.
"Yes, I've heard vaguely about it."
"Good, well all I am asking for in return is the System coordinates."
Son of a bitch. "You want me to access information that was perseveringly deleted from everyone's knowledge and databases?" The man looked back relentlessly. "How do you even know about this?"
"I have my sources."
"Then use those sources to find it." Branson shot back.
The man forcefully replied. "I don't care about the future of Atropos. I don't care about this terrorist rebellion, I don't care about the well being of these people, and I don't care who is in charge. Either way, I will arrive on top, and either way, I will have control of the leadership of these people. I'm not concerned for the future here, as you are, so I have no incentive to help either side. So if this is the case, you can continue your flawed resistance against this group and lose."
Branson could feel his veins pulsing strongly. This man was asking for confidential information that he wasn't even sure he could get his hands on. But he couldn't turn a blind eye if this man could ensure a decisive defeat of the GDSO; did he honestly have a choice?
"How can you defeat the GDSO?"
"Tell me the word, and it will be done; information on the GDSO will arrive at your desk by tomorrow afternoon—information that can help you destroy them. I trust you are a man of integrity, Branson, so I won't even ask for the coordinates up front. As soon as we agree, you can consider the GDSO out of the picture in no more then one week." Langston paused. "Rest assured, you, or whoever you want, will receive all the credit for this. All I want is that information."
"I can't even assure you that I can get a hold of it."
Langston leaned forward. "Well then, the fate of Pacificatorius rests on your ability to find it. Branson, if we agree and I don't get it, your State will have something much bigger then the GDSO to worry about."
This was crazy. Langston was asking for information that may not even exist on any database he could access. And in addition, what could he possibly know that would help them eliminate the GDSO? He was known for power, but to have abilities far grater then that of the State to track down a terror group was seemingly outlandish. Just maybe, though, this could work, and Branson could save this planet from the impending doom that hovered over it. He needed to do this, not for this man's personal agenda, and not for his own personal gain, but for the citizens of this System. His mistakes were ever present, and if he could pull this off, Branson could reverse those mistakes and win this.
The limousine pulled to a stop in front of the DIS headquarters. One of the large body guards got out and opened the door for Branson. Langston looked over, a piece of paper in his hand.
"What will it be, Branson?"
This was to win the fight in Atropos.
"I'll do it."
Langston smiled, then handed the paper over. "Tomorrow you will find the infomration you need, and see my gesture of good-faith towards our agreement. Don't let me down."
Mitchell exited the vehicle without a word. He watched the bodyguard get back in the vehicle, and then the black limousine drive away. Had he just signed an agreement with the devil? He pushed the thought down. It may be controversial, but it was the right choice.
At least he hoped it was.
Welcome to the Department of International Security Database
Please Type Your User ID and Password Now
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ID and Password Confirmed. Clearance 3-Omega Granted.
DIS Archive Search
Enter Key Words
Epipotheo Kratos
Searching...
Searching...
Two (2) Entries Found (one hidden).
WARNING: The following files are under lockdown.
Do you wish to proceed? Y / N
Clearance Level Accepted, listing files:
1. Operation Deiner Kypt (19.07.2501)
2. Hidden.
File (1.) Selected -- Operation Deiner Kypt (19.07.2501)
Opening...
OPERATION DEINER KYPT
After Action Report
Effective: 13-July-2501 (Military Calendar)
Completed: 29-June-2501 (Military Calendar)
Incident/Operation Commander: Classified
Point of Contact: Classified.
Author of Report: Commander Harland Rynen
Context of Operations:
Fifth and Seventh UNSC ONI Reconnaissance Units (attached units included Third Battalion, First Marine Carrier Group) deployed to Oswego System in pursuit of transmission anomalies. The unaccounted frequencies were discovered by the civilian monitoring station A.T.M.F. (Anomalous Transmission Monitor Facility) on 15-April-2501, and tracking of the frequencies was taken over by ONI on 17-April-2501.
Intent of Deployment:
To locate the source of the anomalous frequencies and discover the originator. (Note: It was deemed a priority after it was concluded that no human technology could produce such a complicated series of logarithmic frequencies).
Events During Deployment.
1. The task group entered the Oswego System (no colonies, discovered only by the direction of the anomalous transmission) and located a single planetoid. The planetoid was designated Epipotheo Kratos, and the group secured a spacial perimeter around it.
2. Subsequent drone deployment to the surface of the planetoid revealed peculiar rock formations and the possible presence of constructed excavations. Further investigation confirmed the suspicions.
3. Results transmitted back to ONI Situation Commander. Order was returned to continue operations; information on the Oswego System was deemed classified, and the operation was never passed up the Chain of Command.
4. Drones searching through the excavated areas -- MISSING.5221440.Theta
ERROR. The following text from this file is corrupt/deleted and cannot be viewed.
Reassessing the file...
ERROR. The following text from this file is corrupt/deleted and cannot be viewed.
Reassessing the file...
ERROR. The following text from this file is corrupt/deleted and cannot be viewed.
Closing file...
The file you were viewing is either partially deleted, corrupt, or under lockdown by the System for security proposes. Contact your section database chief to address the problem.
ACTION LOGGED -- 29.12.2524 0134
Accessing Search Results
1. Operation Deiner Kypt (19.07.2501)
2. Hidden.
File (2.) Selected -- Hidden (Unknown) (NO DATE AVAILABLE)
Opening...
DEINER KYPT
Oscar Sierra Whiskey Echo Golf Oscar
4555-1105-7262-OSWEGO
Classified -- Classified
SYS COORD
548954-89234-237805-237805-234135-2357723-235797235-2357997352-972359793-721357997-235979735-97135797-3957973521-397513975-03197597135-31259731597-971359797135-139759713597-139759713-13975971350-1397597135-1397531597
Decrypt? Y / N
SYS COORD:
82405-49493-43715-34541
END TEXT
Closing File...
ACTION LOGGED -- 29.12.2524 0134
Logging Off User ID
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You are Logged Off and the User ID is now secure.
Opening Computer History...
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1. View All
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Option Three (3) Selected...
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All Logged Items have now been deleted.
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