The elevator jolted to a stop and as two thick metal doors slid back Munroe was shoved out onto a grated metal walkway as Icarus, still gagged but remarkably subdued given his previous outburst, joined him, under the care of the guard. Bauer moved to the opposite railing and waved them on and down a short length of metal steps to the level below. He waited until they’d all joined him and then placed his hand on Munroe’s shoulder. “Take a look, Ethan. This is where the magic happens.”
What Munroe saw produced the same feeling he had experienced upon seeing Dr Ferreira’s ‘school’ back in Brazil, and even though the sight itself looked harmless enough, what it represented was anything but. It was a hospital. An underground hospital, with three floors. The whole area was devoid of any personnel, but from the shiny tiled floors to the corridors and rooms, to the oxygen access points and even to the red emergency lights above each doorway, Munroe could have been in any modern hospital in America.
“You look puzzled, Ethan, but use your imagination and think about it while I tell you a story. A story our friend Icarus wants you to hear, and one he knows all too well.”
They were taken for a walk through the wards as Bauer began to impart a tale that, although Munroe had not realised it yet, was what had led him to this place.
“The school where we first met, in Brazil, was run by a scientist of ours, a Dr Manuel Ferreira. He was Daedalus through and through. Not because he was born into it but because he chose and believed in it. You see, the good doctor was a genius of psychiatry, but he was only following in the footsteps of a true titan. One of our first, and the creator of what would later become Project Icarus.”
Bauer stopped at a small glass-faced refrigerator and gently opened it. “He was a man with the fascination and dedication to see his dreams realised and,” Bauer continued, retrieving a small test tube filled with what looked like blood, which he held up in his fingers and inspected, “that was to create the perfect human specimen, the perfect human soldier. We know him as ‘The Father’, but you would recognise him by a different name… Josef Mengele.”
“The Angel of Death,” Munroe replied loathingly; the nickname seemed to genuinely offend Bauer.
“That’s just a tacky label that stuck, gifted by people who had no understanding of the great accomplishments he sought to, and did, achieve.”
“Your ‘Father’ was a child murderer, Hans. He experimented on and tortured hundreds, thousands of people.”
Bauer looked unfazed by the accusation. “That was mainly confined to the concentration camps. His work acted as a catalyst for greater things, and in this case the end does justify the means.”
Josef Mengele, a Nazi medical officer in the Waffen-SS, was a man less concerned with treatment and instead focused on pain and suffering. His obsession with creating a master race of blonde-haired, blue-eyed Aryans was well known in the history books, and his experiments on camp inmates were about as vile as one could imagine. Forced breeding between twins, the freezing to death of patients just to see how the human body reacted and far worse. His obsession with inducing twins in every German pregnancy to quickly fill the Nazis’ sagging military ranks towards the end of the war was as infamous as it was heartless. He was also considered to be behind the inception of the Lebensborn breeding camps, where blonde-haired, blue-eyed children were kidnapped from all over the conquered nations of the Reich and used as stock for the Nazis’ desired conquest of the world. It had failed, but not before Mengele escaped. Munroe thought back to his conversation with Silva. Mengele had died in 1979 somewhere within the depths of Brazil, escaping the justice he so richly deserved. Munroe had heard the stories, but since learning of Daedalus’s existence they had taken on a whole new dimension.
“You’ve been creating a master race,” Munroe said, glancing over at his blonde-haired, blue-eyed chaperones. Bauer shook his head.
“No, Ethan. You make it sound like some crass sci-fi movie. It’s so much more than that. After the war Herr Mengele continued his work in Brazil, funded by us of course, but he only got so far before his death. Before his demise he was able, through specific breeding, to create the perfect human specimen with the attributes so valued by us. But it came with the realisation that the shell is only part of the equation in creating the perfect soldier, and then the perfect assassin. This is where Dr Ferreira became so essential to our work, with his experimentation into multiple personalities and the fracturing of the psyche.” Bauer now motioned to Munroe’s chaperones. “These men here are a direct result of that work, the creation of the perfect Aryan soldier. The Führer would have been proud, but although they are a result of perfect breeding, they never went through Dr Ferreira’s programme. Of course this work, though essential, paled in comparison to what we have achieved since. Upon Herr Mengele’s death we began a new programme, and in the modern age the breakthroughs in science and genetics gave us the ability to lay the foundations that would eventually become Project Icarus. Unfortunately we had to cut ties with Dr Ferreira’s work, which until very recently he was still committed to. The village of Cândido Godói was a perfect testing ground for Herr Mengele’s work, but with all the press attention it received after his death we had Dr Ferreira move to another facility very close by, and for decades no one ever suspected. His work at one of the local communes proved a valuable source of research until he had achieved all he could. We let him continue his work but, I’m afraid, that all had to come to an end when our attack on Parliament was carried out. We knew that little caper of ours would set DS5 ablaze and frothing at the mouths for answers, and so we had to tie up any loose ends.”
Bauer sniffed the air and laughed. “When a predator gains your scent, the only true course of action is to cover one’s tracks. It was very sad, a true waste, a whole village of his lab rats having to be wiped out, not even knowing that they had been at the centre of our research. Still, trails have to be dusted, and we can’t have any leading to us, can we?”
The image of the burning church and the arm marked with the symbol of Daedalus now made perfect, if sick, sense. Those people had been corralled into the church and burnt alive not just for who they were… but what they were. Experimented on without their knowledge and marked like concentration camp victims, they had then been disposed of to conceal any tracks leading towards Daedalus’s greater goal, and that was the question now on Munroe’s lips.
“Why did you blow up Parliament?” he asked, sounding calm, not wanting to interrupt Bauer’s continuing admissions, but he was met with a deep guttural laugh.
“Now that is well beyond your pay grade, Ethan. Just consider yourself fortunate I’m granting you information on Project Icarus.”
Bauer rolled the vial containing the red liquid between his fingers before placing it back in the refrigerator and closing the door. “So, getting back to the point, let me ask you. What makes a good soldier, Ethan? Strength, stamina, reaction time, obedience… These are mainly physical qualities, and they can be produced through good breeding, just like we breed dogs for desirable traits. But what makes a good leader, what produces men with drive and charisma, what makes them stand out at such a young age, these natural born trailblazers?”
Bauer tapped his forefinger against his lips in wonderment. “These genetic traits are hidden to us, locked away in the human genome and far more difficult to reproduce. Project Icarus was begun to not only create the perfect Aryan warriors and assassins, but the world leaders of tomorrow. Can you imagine if we could identify, within the DNA double helix, those traits that the greatest leaders in world history all possessed? And once bred, to be then indoctrinated into the true ideology, the right ideology, the Nazi ideology. Anyone holding that power of creation would hold the keys to a kingdom, and the ability to reshape it in their image. Would they not?”
Munroe now knew what Bauer was getting at, but it seemed the stuff of science fiction. Designer babies were within humanity’s grasp, but designer leaders? “You’re talking about politicians. Humans genetically engineered to be the perfect leaders. Bullshitters, scam artists, con men with the intelligence and charisma to pull it off and win people over.”
“Well, that’s a rather base way to put it, but something like that, yes,” Bauer replied, looking disheartened by Munroe’s assessment. “Have you ever wondered why some men can walk into a crowded room and people are just drawn to them? Why is that? Why some have the ability to manipulate others with a single look or stare. It makes no physical sense unless, subconsciously or otherwise, people are drawn to these individuals because of what they possess on a genetic level. The Führer had it, many world leaders have it. What is that ‘thing’ that makes them stand out, which gives them an ability to seduce the masses? Well, through Project Icarus we discovered these mysteries, learnt how to rewire DNA in just the right way. And we have been refining the process ever since. It takes a while for humans to grow, but the more you produce the higher the likelihood of getting winners. Don’t forget, Ethan, we’re only animals. We respond to a vast array of unseen stimuli, and what we have found is that genetics plays a huge part in this. The age-old question of nature over nurture has been revealed, by us, and it seems that nature is far more influential than previously believed. If you ask someone what it is about that person, why am I drawn to them, why do I have such an instant connection with them, the answers are usually physical in nature. Their eyes, the way they smile, how they carry themselves… But what if it was far deeper than that? Deep below the skin, something in their genetic code. You can’t tell me that you’ve never seen someone and just known they were special. They just had ‘it’. We do it all the time, but never consider why that is.”
Bauer’s hypothesis sounded crazy, but who knew how long they had been experimenting on humans. Those trials could have put them decades ahead of the current understanding of genetics. Human experimentation was morally deplorable, although sadly its use could increase understanding and yield results far beyond what other methods allowed, and considering the lack of scruples these Nazis had it seemed more than plausible they could have made such a breakthrough. A breakthrough about what it was to be human, and how to manipulate that knowledge to their own ends.
There was, though, a big hole in Bauer’s theory, and Munroe brought it up the instant he thought of it. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that Icarus,” Munroe glanced back at the gagged killer and nodded towards him, “was bred to be a leader?”
His question received a shocked look from Bauer, and he wagged his head and laughed. “God no. David only took the name Icarus, he wasn’t part of it. He was bred from Herr Mengele’s initial work, to have all the qualities of a soldier. Faster reactions, stamina, strength, and with Dr Ferreira’s contribution and his fracturing process, he and his brothers and sisters were bred and trained and brought up to be assassins for Daedalus. To pave the way for the leaders created by Project Icarus. But there was a difficult obstacle in our way, in the form of DS5. Churchill and Truman’s charter has made it incredibly difficult to place our own produce within the political folds, which is why we changed tack and did the only thing we could. We targeted DS5 as well.”
A sagging realisation now tugged at Munroe’s stomach, and like a puzzle the pieces began sliding into place. The attack on their C-130, on a trip known only to a select few, and the ambush in New Orleans… How had they known he and Icarus would be there unless someone from DS5 had passed on Munroe’s location? Who else knew?
He was still mulling over the possibilities as Bauer explained further and appearing to take great enjoyment in his own smugness.
“Infiltrating DS5 has proved tougher than any political hierarchy because of their hiring policy, their reliance on chance encounters. That is something which is extremely difficult to orchestrate.”
Munroe said nothing, his mind was swirling with questions and calculations as to who the mole, or moles, at DS5 could be. Bauer saw the conflict in his eyes. “Not easy finding out you’ve been stabbed in the back, is it? But I think it may make what I’m about to tell you a lot easier to swallow. Please, follow me.”
It wasn’t as if Munroe had an option as the two guards nudged him forward and, along with Icarus, he was led by Bauer into a room located further up the corridor.
“Is this your office?” Munroe said with a sarcastic raising of his eyebrow, but Bauer gave a shake of his head as Icarus was also bundled inside by the guards.
“No, Ethan. This room contains the apex of our efforts. The culmination of all the decades of work we have carried out.”
Bauer looked extremely proud as Munroe scanned the room. There was no desk, no computer, not even a chair, just empty space except for what hung from the walls. Dozens upon dozens of rows of large rectangular photos, and with a push from one of the guards Munroe walked over to the nearest ones and began to examine them, one by one. They looked like school photos, each picture containing around twenty children. It was a mix of girls and boys, with those at the front squatted on one knee as those in the rows behind stood proudly with folded arms. They couldn’t have been more than ten years old. At the bottom a date had been printed in embossed gold type, starting in 1966, with each subsequent picture going up in two-year increments.
“The left and right walls are Herr Mengele’s accomplishments,” Bauer said, now taking a step towards the far wall, “but these are our crowning achievements. The accomplishments and fruits of Project Icarus.”
There must have been over a hundred children on the far wall, but these were different. Whereas in the Mengele photos the children all had blonde hair and blue eyes, the ones on the Icarus wall were all different. Some had black hair, others red, some were blonde, but and if one counted all the photos in the room there must have been over four hundred young faces.
As Munroe gazed over them the reality of what Daedalus had achieved produced a tight knot in his stomach. “These are all genetically made kids, genetically purposed?” he said, and Bauer tapped the wall with his finger and smiled.
“Each one instilled with the genetic traits that best suited them for the role we have laid out. And each trained and serving the greater good. Our good.”
While Munroe fathomed the incredible scope of Daedalus’s endeavour Bauer continued to speak, his pride shining through in each word that was spoken by him.
“The war never ended, Ethan. It just took on a different form. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold, and I couldn’t agree more. That isn’t to say we’ve not had our setbacks. We came close to consolidating the world positions we needed back in the early noughties, but with 9/11 came a shift in political power and thinking. A whole generation of our candidates were lost to the political wilderness, but that was twenty years ago and now, with the landscape littered with identity politics and racial division, the time has never been riper to consolidate our power. The coming bondage of slavery will not be in physical chains but invisible ones, in the minds of free people.”
An unpleasant feeling swirled in Munroe’s stomach as Bauer now took great pleasure in disclosing his reasoning.
“War and conquest are driven by ideology. One group’s wish to force its will and ideology upon another’s. Whether it was the Mongols or the Romans, naked aggression has been the single most effective tool to achieve ideological domination of the human species. But that age-old truth crumbled with the advent of the atomic bomb. That single instant when critical mass was reached on the atomic level. From that moment on a world war could not ever happen again, not without destroying everyone and everything in the process. Conventional domination of the world ceased to be possible, and a new path needed to be forged. A path not cut on the battlefield but within the minds of those that believe themselves to be free. Take a look around you, Ethan. The notion of free speech and the rights of the individual is being slowly replaced with that of the group identity. The focus is now on the differences between us, and not those things we share in common. The technology of communication and social media is seeing to that, and the culmination of Project Icarus seeks to nurture those beliefs. Whether the public know it or not, the greatest political minds of our times have placed us on a course for something they believe to be for the good of humanity, a single world government where war is no more and the peoples of the world are united as one. Under this climate people are willing to give up more and more rights for the greater good, and when all is said and done, our leaders, the fruits of Project Icarus, will be at the top of it. And the best bit of all is they won’t realise what’s happening until it’s already happened. It’s just as the Führer imagined, a world order of national socialism working its way down from the top, all the way through society to the most basic but crucial levels. And with the common break-up of the of the nuclear family, something we can’t take credit for unfortunately but which we will exploit, it allows children to be exposed to the state at an ever earlier age. A state that we will control. Winning hearts and minds has always been the key to long-lasting subjugation, and you know how its’s done? We realised it with the inception of the Hitler Youth back in the Thirties, when an entire generation was indoctrinated into national socialism.”
Bauer leant close to Munroe, and then he spoke in almost a whisper, as if telling a secret. “Morality. Teach a few generations that what they have been taught is morally right, and they will justify their actions for the rest of their lives. Human beings struggle to flat-out lie to themselves, it’s not part of their condition. But to justify one’s beliefs is far more acceptable in one’s mind, no matter how illogical the reasoning might be. The Hitler Youth were taught that survival of the fittest was not only morally right but the natural order of things, and they went to their deaths still defending such ideas. And so it is happening with the younger generations of today. All they need is a little guidance from world leadership and like that,” Bauer snapped his fingers, “the education systems of yesterday become the re-education camps of tomorrow.”
Bauer now glared menacingly, and Munroe could see in his eyes the gaze of a true believer.
“So why tell me all this, Hans. Why Icarus’s fascination with me and my family? He appeared to have focused on me long before I crossed paths with DS5.”
As Icarus attempted to speak his muffled words were ignored by Bauer, who stood up straight and slipped his arm under Munroe’s, and under the watchful eyes of the two guards he guided him over to the doorway, stopping beside a single photo frame offset from all the others, containing a group of much younger children, maybe three or four years old. They were all sitting next to individual nurses all dressed in the same white aprons and caps. “As I mentioned, we’ve had our setbacks. Not all our experiments turned out as they should have.”
Bauer pointed to a child just off centre. “That is David, or Icarus, as he rechristened himself. It was taken back at Dr Ferreira’s school in Brazil where these children were brought up. Where they lived and were educated for the first twelve years of their lives. It is the class of 1990, and the last of Herr Mengele’s batch. All the children were gifted with the best genes we could provide, bestowing on them all the reflexes, stamina, strength and mental acuity genetics could afford them. They were bred from some of our best German stock, from a multitude of donors, and they were trained as assassins from a young age. I believe you met Tobias Kessler during your travels. He was one of the most competent tutors we’ve ever had, and the lessons and training he oversaw allowed these boys and girls to develop into highly proficient killers, as you’ve seen for yourself in David. But unfortunately, there was a problem with this batch. It wasn’t on the genetics side of things but rather with Dr Ferreira’s contribution. His process of fracturing the mind was a master stroke. Creating individuals whose programmed assassination training could be turned on and off at will through certain stimuli. We had great successes, but it was at a price. The older the subjects got the harder it became to separate the personalities. As such they became liabilities, and were all terminated with the exception of Icarus, who appeared to be the only one under our supervision that remained unaffected.”
Bauer now looked over at Icarus, who only stared blankly. To Munroe the man looked broken, all the anger in his eyes evaporated.
“That was until six months ago, when he went on his unsanctioned murder spree, including two DS5 operatives embedded within MI6,” Bauer finished, his face full of disdain for the gagged man before him.
The way Bauer called them ‘batches’ did not sit well with Munroe, but the Nazi was right about one thing. Icarus had descended into uncontrollable psychosis.
“Understandably he never forgave us for terminating his ‘classmates’, or brothers and sisters, as he saw them.”
Bauer now pointed to the photo. “Tell me, Ethan. Does anything in this photo stand out to you?”
Munroe began to examine each of the children individually and he was quick to notice the odd one out. “That one’s got black hair, and all the others have blonde.”
“Well noticed,” Bauer replied in an overly sarcastically tone. “In those days the idea of the perfect Aryan specimen had not yet taken a back seat to the more important need for anonymity, as was later created in subjects of Project Icarus. The child was not like the others. He showed similar abilities, so far as anyone could tell, but due to his undesirable features and young age the fracturing process was never performed on him. It would have been a waste of time, and soon after he was designated for termination. Unfortunately the nurse you see next to him had grown rather attached. Such a weak characteristic for anyone within the folds of Daedalus. She absconded with the child, but my predecessors caught up with her soon afterwards. She died never revealing the location of the child.”
Bauer now tapped the golden embossed 1990 label at the bottom of the photo. “When this photo was taken these children were all four years old which means they were born in 1986… Tell me, Ethan. What year were you born?”
Munroe’s breathing began to tighten and a nervous tingling rippled across his skin. “1986,” he said, in nothing more than a shocked whisper. If what Bauer was alluding to was true, Icarus’s fascination made complete sense. Munroe felt sick to his core.
Bauer smiled as one of the guards moved closer with his M4 raised, in anticipation of a reaction from their captive. “You weren’t born, Ethan. You were manufactured. And you’ve exceeded all our expectations.”