It was turning out to be a cold evening as Munroe pulled the collar of his black overcoat up around his neck. There was a chill in the air, and as he looked across the City of London from the rooftop of the old War Office building on the edge of the Thames, he knew it was about to get a lot colder. For over a century the building had been the centre of army operations for the British Empire until its offices had been relocated to the Ministry of Defence in 1968, the building just across the road. On the opposite side of that was Number 10 Downing Street, and only one building past that sat the Treasury offices, whose lights never went out. Death and taxes, the only two things one could be certain of in life. What was left of Parliament may have been the public face of government, but these few blocks of land were where the real power lay, the mandarins of Whitehall running their hive of workers and maintaining the circus that was modern-day politics.
Behind him he heard the creaking of a fire door, and after one last look over the landscape he turned around to see John McCitrick making his way over to him, followed by Home Secretary Jacob Ryan close on his heels.
“Ethan.” McCitrick greeted him and came to a stop along with Ryan, who wasn’t looking happy.
“Can someone please tell me why we’re meeting on the roof of the old War Office?” Ryan asked, and McCitrick shook his head.
“As I told you, sir. I didn’t call the meeting. Captain Munroe did.”
Munroe offered only a nod and then stood there silently as Ryan raised his shoulders. “Well, I don’t want to rush you, Captain. I believe we owe you and DS5 our thanks, but I need to prepare my speech for tomorrow. Hunting Nazis is just a small part of my remit.”
“I heard, sir. Congratulations.” Munroe replied, referring to the Home Secretary’s step up in the political chain. After the footage of Ryan saving the young girl’s life during the attack on Parliament had gone viral, and with most of the cabinet dead, the Secretary had been propelled by public opinion as the one to lead his party. He was already being hailed in the press as the only choice to fill the post of the Prime Minister, and although a general election would follow in the coming months, the Home Secretary would be confirmed within twenty-four hours after his party’s committee had voted for him. The top job could not go unfilled, especially during a national crisis.
“Thank you, Ethan,” Ryan replied, now turning his attention to McCitrick. “I may not be the UK’s section head of DS5 for much longer, but I promise, you will always have my support whenever it is needed.”
“That will be much appreciated, Minister,” McCitrick replied, offering a respectful nod.
“Actually, DS5 is the reason I called this meeting, sir. I think we’ve found our mole.”
Munroe addressed them both, and his sentence hung in the air like a bad smell. Ryan’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Mole! What mole?” Ryan turned to McCitrick, whose blank expression gave nothing away. “John. You never mentioned anything about a mole in DS5. Are we talking Daedalus?”
“I’m afraid so, sir,” Munroe replied, as McCitrick remained silent, still void of any emotion. “I heard it from the horse’s mouth, as it were. A man named Hans Bauer, a high-level Daedalus operative I came across while I was in the States. He whispered it to me, only because he was sure I was about to be executed. You might call it a parting gift.”
That McCitrick wasn’t saying anything had Ryan staring at him suspiciously. “John, what’s going on?”
“What’s going on, sir, is that we’ve been betrayed,” Munroe said, still staring at McCitrick. “From within the heart of the organisation. I couldn’t figure out how they managed to always stay one step ahead of us. Such a quick rescue of Icarus was possible, given the local police were involved, but it was being drugged by Tobias Kessler during my visit that set off the first alarm bells. I doubt even a man like that has a sleeping drug on hand for any occasion, and his muscle, Gustav, was already waiting for me. How was that possible, unless they knew I was coming?”
“In our line of work coincidences do happen, Ethan,” McCitrick said, finally breaking his silence, but Munroe shook his head.
“Maybe, McCitrick. But not in our business. Then there was the missile attack on board the C-130. How did Daedalus know our flight plan? Only a select few knew about it, and what you may not know is that the weapons used to fire at us were found. Remus told me on the flight over. Stroke of luck really. A police car was passing when they were fired. They went to investigate, there was a shoot-out and the people responsible manged to escape… but in the chaos they left the portable FIM-92 Stinger missile launcher and it was taken into evidence. Evidence we managed to access courtesy of Colonel Sinclair. Whomever Daedalus got to fire them did a sloppy job, because they still had their serial numbers. Those particular launchers were made by the US but supplied to a private contractor, and you know who footed the bill? The Ministry of Defence. In fact, it was the same department McCitrick works from.”
McCitrick was still poker-faced, and he continued to listen in silence as Ryan now took a step back from the DS5 man, shaking his head in disbelief.
“And it was strange to run into Hans Bauer over in Brazil when the only people who knew about the trip were myself, Sloan and you, McCitrick. And, of course, the name that Bauer whispered in to my ear.” In a flash, Munroe, pulled the SIG Sauer P320 from his holster and pointed it directly at McCitrick. “It’s over, John. You were part of Project Icarus from the beginning.”
Munroe motioned to Ryan as he kept his aim dead centre upon McCitrick’s chest. “Minister Ryan, would you be so good as to relieve Mr McCitrick of his firearm, please?”
Ryan was looking completely shocked at the accusation, but he stepped forward and pulled the gun from its holster and then stood back as Munroe held his stance.
“You’re making a big mistake,” McCitrick said as next to him Ryan seethed.
“Jesus, John. After all these years. Right in our backyard. The people that have died… Parliament, for Christ’s sake. I don’t know what to say.” Ryan tapped the gun against his thigh mindfully. “I guess Project Icarus didn’t breed you as well as they thought.”
Munroe now lowered his gun and he turned his attention to Ryan, who was looking wholly disappointed. “I never mentioned what Project Icarus was, sir.”
“…What?”
“The breeding programme, sir. You haven’t been briefed yet.”
Without missing a beat Ryan pointed to McCitrick. “John told me on the way over.”
“That’s odd, sir, because I’ve not told him either.”
Ryan was now looking unnerved as Munroe pulled out a piece of card from his pocket with his free hand and looked at it. “The name Bauer whispered in my ear wasn’t McCitrick’s… It was yours.”
Ryan stood stunned, and with his whole face scrunched up he began to refute the accusation. “Oh, please. Just more subterfuge, Ethan. Daedalus would love nothing more than to turn us against each other.”
Munroe nodded solemnly and looked at the card in his hand before returning Ryan’s empathetic stare. “That’s very true, but photos are worth a thousand words.”
Munroe now turned the card so Ryan could see it. “That’s you as a boy, isn’t it, sir. We compared it to the ones we have on file, and it looks to be a match.”
Ryan’s shoulders sagged slightly and his lips parted in sheer astonishment as he stared at the photo.
“I took it from Bauer’s ‘Hall of Fame’. It’s old, but it is definitely you.”
Ryan was now breathing heavily, but he continued to shake his head furiously, his anger getting the better of him. “This is outrageous. I’m not a Daedalus mole!”
Munroe lowered his gaze to the weapon in Ryan’s hand, which was raised slightly towards him. “Then why are you pointing that gun at me?” he asked calmly. “You are pointing it at me, sir. Aren’t you?”
There was silence between the three men as the barrel of Ryan’s gun wavered slightly, and then he raised it up, pointing it directly at Munroe’s chest. “Well, I suppose there’s no need for any more bullshit. In fact I rather prefer it this way. You’re meant to be dead, Captain Munroe.” Ryan glanced at the gun still in Munroe’s hand. “Drop it on the floor, and don’t be foolish, Captain. You’re fast, but you’re not that fast.”
Munroe slowly bent his knees and dropped the gun to the floor as Ryan now glanced over at McCitrick. “And you, the great mole hunter John McCitrick. You couldn’t sniff out a turd if it was right under your nose. You even bought my act in Parliament, which, if I do say so myself, was a sterling piece of work.”
Ryan was looking pretty pleased with himself and he sucked in a deep breath and expelled it with pleasure. “No one would ever expect the Home Secretary to place a Semtex device directly under the PM’s seat; they never check my bag upon entering. Privileges of the office. Security is far more concerned with checking the public than an MP at the centre of power. I simply walked in earlier that morning, stating government business, and placed the package before returning a few hours later, a little late I might add,” Ryan raised his eyebrow, arrogantly enjoying telling his story, “and caused the blast by a remote detonation device in my pocket. I will admit I might have cut it a bit close, but it made for excellent media coverage, and the resuscitation of the young girl… well, who could have scripted that!”
McCitrick looked repulsed and he glared at Ryan with disgust. “A lot of good people died, Jacob, and the damage you’ve done will take the country years to recover from.”
The sentiment was lost on Ryan and he winced at the idea. “Recover! You idiot, John. We’re only just beginning. We’re the future.”
“You’re a fucking Nazi, Jacob. The lowest form of scum humanity has ever served up.”
Suddenly Ryan’s cavalier attitude evaporated and he snarled in contempt at McCitrick’s labelling.
“My colleagues and I were bred and educated to be what the Nazis only aspired to be. They came close, but coming second doesn’t amount to shit in the game of global power.”
“And what is that exactly?” Munroe asked, noting the familiar sudden change in demeanour that he had also seen in Hans Bauer. “You were born to do one thing, and one thing only. Create the fertile conditions for those who will really be in power if Daedalus gets its way. The Fourth Reich is a powerful idea, and pure bloodlines will always supersede those that are bred to do their bidding. Your buddy Hans Bauer taught me that. In fact he seemed to see Project Icarus as meat for the grinder. A means to an end.”
“Oh, please. Bauer’s had his time. You’ve seen to that, Captain, and those old fools with their bloodlines will be the first to peter out in the political landscape to come.” Ryan’s eyes squinted and he shook his head slowly. “I don’t think you understand, either of you. I, and others like me, were born to rule. It’s in our DNA. You can call it the Fourth Reich, national socialism, whatever, it doesn’t matter. I and many like me see this for what it is. It’s about power. It’s about dominance. It’s about a world that can barely control itself through democratic means. Humans have always needed a master to guide them and tell them what to do in their lives. It is Daedalus who will answer the call. And what a beautiful future it will be. There is nothing you can do to stop it. Once the wheels of oppression begin rolling it is near impossible to turn back the tide. Besides, you’re too late. In under twenty-four hours’ time I will be visiting Buckingham Palace to have my premiership confirmed, officially. So, what are you going to do? Half the politicians have been wiped out and even if you did tell the British people, which you can’t, they would never believe you. A Nazi spy for the Fourth Reich?” Ryan expelled a confident and bellowing laugh. “No, I think not. So, here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to shoot you, Ethan. Then I’m going to shoot you, John. My team will clean up the mess and then, gentlemen, tomorrow morning, I will meet with the Queen to be confirmed as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and in the coming days and weeks I will use my considerable power to take apart DS5, piece by piece. They will be labelled as a rogue operation and classed as a terrorist group. The plan has been in place for a long time, and I will use its greatest strength against itself: its clandestine anonymity. The leaders of the US and France have no idea you even exist, and by the time I’ve finished they will believe you are traitors to their own governments. I will enjoy watching your compatriots burn. It’s true what they say, a person’s greatest strength is their greatest weakness, and I will take great satisfaction in your own secretive and shadowy cover being used against you.”
Ryan straightened his arm, preparing to shoot. “Any last words, Captain? I would ask John here, but it will be the same old self-righteous bullshit he always comes out with.”
“There are a couple of things, sir. Ambassador Breams. Did he go through the same mind-fracturing process as Icarus?”
“Bauer really told you a lot, didn’t he?” Ryan replied, sounding surprised as he cocked the gun. “It took a lot of work to get him into that position, and all he needed was a sentence to click him into gear. His key sentence was a good one, a Walt Disney quote actually: ‘all our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.’”
Munroe looked unimpressed and immediately moved on to his next question. “And why did he shoot the Chancellor? Presumably it was to open the position for a Daedalus operative? Much like yourself.”
Ryan shook his head. “No, the new Chancellor is not part of Daedalus. I would know if she was. Whatever high command have planned, it goes far deeper than that. Why do you care?”
Munroe now smiled politely. “No reason. I just don’t like loose ends. No stone unturned. Well, that’s all I have, and If you’re going to shoot… aim high.”
“Thank you, Ethan, I will.” Ryan gave one last triumphant grin, and pulled the trigger, but there was no muzzle flash, no recoil. Instead there followed only the sound of a dull metallic click and Munroe turned his head, offering a view of the small white earpiece hidden in his ear canal. Ryan’s eyes widened, but as he opened his mouth to speak, the back of his head exploded in a puffy red mist and he dropped to his knees before collapsing to the floor with a thud.
Munroe now looked over to the building opposite to see Colonel Remus already sliding the Mk 21 modular sniper rifle back into its case. “Solid shot, Colonel.” He removed his earpiece and looked over at McCitrick, who was staring blankly at the still twitching corpse of Home Secretary Jacob Ryan.
“In the next hour Minister Ryan will be involved in a tragic car accident. His head will be so badly crushed that no trace of a gunshot wound will be found. We will ensure that any photos or paper trails to his links with Daedalus are destroyed and he will go down in history as a great man who stepped up to the plate after the attack on Parliament. Nothing more, nothing less.”
McCitrick bent down and picked up his gun, which he then passed over to Munroe. “I want the firing pin back in my firearm within the hour, Ethan.”
“I’ll do it for you right now.” Munroe holstered his own gun, retrieved a small piece of metal from his pocket, and then set about reassembling McCitrick’s weapon. “Have you made a decision on my own situation? My connection with Project Icarus?”
McCitrick watched in silence as Munroe quickly replaced the firing pin. Once down he passed it over to the DS5 section head, who continued to stare at him. It appeared his boss was making his mind up there and then and Munroe held the gaze, never once breaking eye contact until McCitrick delivered a nasal snort. “A son cannot be held accountable for his father’s actions. Whomever they may be.”
It was a relief to hear, and Munroe offered a small nod of his head.
“Every member of DS5 knows, and they’re all fine with it. So nothing’s changed. Besides, we feel that having a super soldier on our side could be most beneficial.”
Munroe winced at the title. “Could you please never use that term again?”
McCitrick actually let slip a vague smile at his embarrassment. “Very well, Ethan. But your teammates will take the piss out of you relentlessly for the foreseeable future.”
“I can deal with that.”
McCitrick nodded grimly, and then turned his attention back to the body of Jacob Ryan. “It’s a damn shame. I always liked the man, but the havoc he’s caused… Shocking.”
Munroe offered a conciliatory nod. “It’s concerning that Daedalus were able to install someone so high up the political ladder. If they could get the Home Secretary, then who else could they have?”
“Exactly.” McCitrick held out his hand and Munroe shook it firmly. “That’s what we’re going to find out, and I suspect this is only the beginning. Now get going. Sloan’s downstairs waiting for you. We have work to do, but I want you to take the night off. You deserve a few hours of R&R. We’ve got our foot in through Daedalus’s door, and Bauer may not sing like a bird at first but given some time he should yield results. We are now on the offensive. Consider what happened over the past few days the end of the beginning. We’re just getting started. Lots of work to be done. We still don’t know why Ambassador Breams killed Chancellor Schenk but, suffice to say, we shall be keeping a very close eye on the new German Chancellor, regardless of what Ryan had to say.”
“I might have some thoughts on that, sir. It will all be in my report,” Munroe said.
McCitrick offered a nod. “Off you go then. And don’t let me down, Ethan… Oh, and you can call me John from now on… unless you piss me off. In which case it’s sir.”