Code of the Assassin: Embedded in the data is the power to corrupt (David Diegert Series Book 3)

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Code of the Assassin: Embedded in the data is the power to corrupt (David Diegert Series Book 3) Page 8

by Bill Brewer


  The gleeful look on Panzer’s face revealed his gleaming white teeth through a broad smile. Diegert reacted with a similar smile, which he tempered as soon as he realized he was mimicking his father’s arrogance.

  “The NK cells are part of our first line of defense. They identify pathogens and attack them with an array of lethal responses that destroy the invaders and prevent infection. Every day you avoid getting sick because the NK cells assassinate intruders before they do you harm.”

  Diegert couldn’t help but smile again.

  “The NK cells, work with the rest of the immune system to make sure invaders are identified and a specific defense is set up to keep the microbe from re-infecting the body. Meanwhile, the NK cells go right back to work looking for trouble and stopping it before it becomes a problem. Their dedication to the protection of the body is absolute and indefatigable.”

  Diegert didn’t quite get that last word, but he realized these ‘Enkay’ cells had impressed Panzer with their aggression. Throwing his hands up and shrugging his shoulders, Diegert said, “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “Do you know what NK stands for?” asked Panzer.

  Diegert shook his head.

  “NK stands for Natural Killer.”

  The two words instantly clarified Panzer’s earlier phrase.

  “Natural Killer cells use biologic toxins to bring death to pathogenic microbes, just like an assassin uses physical violence to protect the people and assets of Crepusculous.”

  Diegert snapped a look at Panzer’s face, which was now set in a stoic glare.

  “You, my son, are a Natural Killer.”

  The lesson in biology shifted to a personal assessment.

  “You are a unique person, with a biological trait shared with only one percent of the population.”

  Diegert’s gaze intensified as he tilted his head. Panzer remained silent.

  Feeling manipulated, Diegert kept his eyes on the older man, who seemed like he was waiting to be asked.

  Diegert bit. “What’s the trait?”

  “Fifty percent of your white blood cells are Natural Killers. Most people have between ten to fifteen percent NK’s, but you have five times the average.”

  “So what?”

  “So, you don’t get sick, do you?”

  Diegert shrugged.

  “When was the last time you had a cold?”

  Diegert couldn’t remember the last time he was sick. He was always healthy even when others all around him were sick. He shrugged his shoulders again.

  “When you’re injured, you heal quickly.”

  Diegert recognized that this was also true, and even more so since being given Healix.

  “These are traits you would expect from a strong front-line defense. The fact that you have this trait is no accident. I too possess Natural Killer cells as fifty percent of my leukocytes. You have inherited a trait of the Panzer family that has helped us survive the plague, the flu epidemic of 1918 and the advent of antibiotic-resistant bacteria. We are survivors, and I am glad to see that this valuable trait is being carried forward by my son.”

  “Is this another engineered thing from Creation Lab? Did you inject these into me?”

  “Absolutely not. We are not yet that sophisticated. The concentration of NK cells is a genetic trait passed on from me to you. There is no other way for you to get this powerful advantage except through my genes.”

  “How do you really know I have these?”

  “We’ve done the blood work,” said Panzer pointing out the obvious. “Your NK cell count measured at 150,000 per microliter. A value that’s five times more than the average person. You’re a killer, and it comes to you naturally.”

  Diegert’s eyes narrowed into a steely glare as he fixed his gaze on Panzer.

  Pointing his finger Panzer said, “See I can see it in you now. Anger is rising up in you, and you are getting ready to kill.”

  Diegert leaned back and softened his expression.

  “What did it feel like when you first killed a man?” asked Panzer with intense curiosity. “Was it exhilarating? Did the adrenaline rush take over? And what about the sense of triumph, was it not the best feeling you’ve ever had?”

  Diegert sheepishly turned away.

  “Aha, see I know this. I know you felt the power of the kill. You know I’m right.”

  Diegert spoke, “You’re so happy about it, but I think it’s a curse.”

  “It’s definitely a burden, but it’s a blessing, not a curse.”

  Diegert’s eyebrows posed the question.

  Panzer said, “Just like the rich resources of the human body, the wealth of Crepusculous is under constant attack. The holdings are so vast and the value so great that invaders and pathogens are always seeking advantage and parasitizing what is ours. Like the immune system, the Crepusculous and Omnisphere security operations are complex, adaptable and very effective. At times we need to aggressively eliminate an intruder that will do us great harm if allowed to create an infection. It is then that I assign an assassin to strategically remove an enemy.”

  During the pause, Diegert looked to see a broad smile slowly spread across Panzer’s face, as warmth filled his icy blue eyes and a rosy color percolated through his tan skin.

  With an expression of fondness, Panzer said, “I then need a man to be my NK cell. To have the best man to ever do that job be my own son fills me with pride like I’ve never felt before.”

  As unaccustomed to compliments as Diegert was, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of… hope, or camaraderie, or appreciation, or… he didn’t know what to call the feeling he was having, and he sure wasn’t going to use the word love, yet there was something inside him that reacted to Panzer’s kind but twisted words.

  Snapping out of his emotional moment Diegert asked, “Was the president really invading and infecting Crepusculous? Was he really your enemy?”

  The ice in Panzer’s eyes returned as slivers of gray streaked through the blue irises.

  “We all know the best defense is a good offense. The sanction against the president was part of a larger plan to adjust the world’s economy.”

  “Destroy the world’s economy is more like it.”

  “Oh really, did you study macro world economics at Broward County High School? Can you inform me about international trade deficits, the fluctuations in global currency markets or the third world consequences of the dominant US dollar? Can you share your opinion of default dependent hedge funds or credit requisite leveraged borrowing? Certainly, you can tell me how the impact of municipal debt influences the value of local real estate.”

  Intellectual intimidation returned, but Diegert was not going let this asshole silence him again.

  “You can say what you like and think what you will, but killing the president was unnecessary, and now I have to live with that for the rest of my life,” said Diegert thumping his chest with his extended fingers.

  “Do you think the NK cell feels bad each time it kills a pathogen? Or is the health of the entire body much more important than the emotions of one single cell?”

  “This cellular analogy is stupid. You can’t really expect people to act as simply as a cell. It’s idiotic to believe people are going to act on your behalf and have no reactions to the violence you order up.”

  “I can see your point,” said Panzer calmly. “But your vision limits actions to only those things that feel good at the moment. Often the greater good requires emotional sacrifices where we give up feeling good to change the balance of power that surrounds us.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “Really?” said Panzer snapping his head as he drew back his gaze. “Son, I do believe you need to expand your vision. You need to see what really lies before you and how economic power is truly balanced in this world.”

  Panzer pulled a remote from his pocket, clicked the device, and brought the giant screen of Diegert’s smart TV to life. He manipulated the device until the screen revealed
a number of brightly colored pie charts. Diegert liked math, and these charts were divided into wedges representing different percentages of the pies.

  “Let’s look at this first one,” said Panzer as he clicked on a single pie chart, which then filled the screen.

  The circle was divided into two sections, the blue one representing ninety percent of the pie, the red one ten percent. Graphics on the pie indicated that the ninety percent was the wealth held by one percent of the population and the ten percent represented the wealth held by ninety-nine percent of the population.

  Panzer began, “Certainly by now you’ve heard of this statistic, but what you might not be aware of is this.” Panzer clicked his remote, and a green pie section now appeared representing seventy-five percent of the circle. The graphic read, Holdings of Omnisphere. Panzer turned his head to see Diegert’s reaction.

  Diegert was nonplussed and simply said, “I’ve already been told this, but am I included in the ‘We’?”

  “Yes,” said an ebullient Panzer, nodding his head, smiling with pride. “You are my son. You are my heir. You own the world, but I have more to show you.”

  Panzer clicked up the next pie chart, which revealed a breakdown of the world’s reserve currency.

  “A world currency is a monetary denomination from one country that will be accepted by other countries for the payment of goods and services. Many commodities that are traded all over the world are priced in US dollars.” Panzer paused to make sure Diegert was listening.

  Reluctantly Diegert nodded, and Panzer went on. “This fact makes the dollar the world’s dominant money even though the US is basically bankrupt. The whole monetary system is based on the faith in a government that is incapable of tying its own shoes, let alone pay its bills, and leave the system better than they found it.”

  Diegert scratched his head.

  “We will remove the US dollar as the world’s reserve currency and replace it with a corporate based currency backed by the true wealth of Omnisphere.”

  Panzer was as proud as a Peacock with feathers in full fan. Diegert looked at him as if he was a drunken bum preaching in the subway.

  Panzer furrowed his brow. “Come now, son, I can see you are having trouble grasping the plan. I realize your recent actions delayed things, but I’m quite certain there will be a role for you to play as we move forward.”

  “Don’t be so sure, I’ll be your trigger man.”

  “Indeed. Anyway, I want you to know that by replacing the dollar, we relieve the world of the uneven burden of fluctuating currencies. The Omnisphere currency will be worth the same all over the world.”

  Diegert smirked a contemplative frown while nodding his head.

  “With control of the world’s money, we will have unprecedented power that’ll allow us to influence almost every economic transaction in the world. From bread to bananas, to bullets, it will all be purchased with our currency.”

  The grandiosity of such an idea was something Diegert could hardly imagine, but the inevitability with which his father spoke of the plan gave the younger man all the more reason to doubt the sanity of his paternal sire.

  “You’re already aware of how powerful we are.” Diegert looked to see Panzer gently nodding his head as he tried to extract the doubt from his son. “We’re going to make this happen, and it will be the greatest economic accomplishment in the history of the world.”

  Diegert’s skepticism and Panzer’s certainty collided in the room as they both projected their beliefs into the air between them.

  Panzer’s mobile buzzed softly. Extracting it from his pocket, he said, “I’m sorry, son, I have another appointment, and I’m afraid I must go now, but I want you to contemplate what we’ve discussed. Soon I will need to know if you are a useful asset or an unfortunate liability. Do choose wisely my son,” insinuated Panzer as he reached out and patted Diegert on the shoulder.

  Do or die, thought Diegert.

  CHAPTER 11

  After Carolyn was attacked by Fatima Hussain, Diegert waited with her until an ambulance arrived. He took her phone with him as the ambulance took her to the hospital. Now, having convinced one of the medical orderlies that he needed the phone from his personal effects to complete an assignment from Klaus Panzer, Diegert checked the incoming history. He could see that the phone had been called three times from the same number at about 6:00 a.m. So he was ready the next morning when the phone rang at 6:03 a.m.

  “Hello.”

  “David?”

  Diegert recognized her voice but suddenly realized he had no idea who else might be listening or influencing her on the other end. Having disabled the GPS signal, he knew tracking the device would be nearly impossible.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Give me some assurance this call is secure.”

  During the pause, Carolyn exhaled with a snort of indignation. “I suppose it hasn’t occurred to you that I’m in some really deep trouble as well. My boss thinks I’m in collusion with you and is looking for evidence. Plus my ribs, where I was shot, hurt like hell!”

  Gaining her perspective, Diegert felt like a real jerk, but he couldn’t ignore the risk involved in communicating with her. “I’m sorry you’re in pain.”

  “I’m on some pretty strong drugs. The bullet was surgically removed, but I’m going to have a scar on my chest that’ll ruin the look of any plunging necklines.”

  “That’s unfortunate. What is your boss doing to investigate?”

  Diegert heard that snort again. When Carolyn spoke, he sensed her tone had shifted such that she was detaching herself from her feelings and just stating facts.

  “He’s doing what I would do. Checking financials, seeing if I’m in debt. Reviewing communications to establish our history. The fact that you have my phone makes that one pretty difficult. But not getting answers only makes him more suspicious.”

  “How is it that you’re calling me?”

  “I coerced a medic into getting me a burner, and I’m in the bathroom during my guard’s shift change. This situation won’t last but keep this number, and we’ll be able to communicate. David, I need actionable intel on the people who directed Strakov to kill the president. I need you to give me evidence from inside Crepusculous, or I’m toast, and the hunt for you goes into overdrive.”

  “Are you in the hospital or jail?”

  “Both, they’ve got guards stationed 24/7 right outside my hospital room. I’m in real trouble.” Carolyn’s voice rose in pitch, and Diegert could sense her anger and frustration. “I had a clean solid career, an impeccable reputation, and an unblemished record. Now I’m under investigation, my colleagues suspect me of treason, and no one trusts me. Plus, I’m hiding in the bathroom talking on a burner to the man who actually did shoot the president.”

  “You know I didn’t shoot him.”

  “Fuck it, I’m the only one who knows that. My only way out of this is to produce some evidence that confirms the lie you set up and everyone wants to believe. Without evidence, the obvious story of Strakov is still under suspicion. Get me some proof, David, or you and I will both be fucking toast!”

  Diegert had to help Carolyn convince the world that Strakov was the assassin of the President of the United States.

  “Ok, I’m on it. I’ll get that intel to clear you and get people to forget about me.”

  Diegert heard her sigh of relief as she replied with a softened tone. “Thank you, we need to do this as quickly as possible but, David, I must tell you I will not be the only one who isn’t going to forget about you. Please be careful.”

  While the last part of her message was both reassuring and chilling, Diegert relished the camaraderie, and perhaps something more, that he felt for Carolyn.

  “I will be. I’ll text you.”

  “Yeah, that’ll be best.”

  Diegert didn’t want the call to end or go on. Carolyn was next to speak. “Ok then, I’m out.”

  “Right.”<
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  Diegert held the now silent phone to his ear realizing that his only connection to Carolyn was a cold piece of electronic plastic.

  Wasting no time, Diegert called Klaus Panzer. “Hallo,” came the German-accented greeting.

  “This is David, I need your help with something.”

  “Oh really, and what is your need?”

  “I need evidence that indicates that Alexi Strakov was the man who assassinated the president.”

  “And you believe I can help you with this?”

  “I know you can. You control enough media outlets that you can generate any message you want the world to believe.”

  “You’re assuming a great deal of gullibility on the part of the general public.”

  “Maybe, but this is something they want to believe, so we just have to give them a plausible story and evidence to back it up.”

  “So what’s your story?”

  Diegert was caught flat-footed. He assumed Panzer would assign someone to figure out all the details. Instead, he had to come up with something clever to make the blame stick to Strakov. Diegert knew that people would accept information, presented as fact that confirmed ideas they already believed, therefore Islamic terrorists would be at the center of the story.

  Diegert began, “We need evidence that Strakov was acting on behalf of Abu Jihad. Let’s fashion intercepted texts between Strakov and an associate of Nassar Irbil Mohammed. Have the texts direct Strakov to acquire the gun I planted on him. Create a video which shows Strakov arriving in Detroit and doctor a grainy video which captures the moment of the shot.”

  Panzer smiled with a sense of pride, the kind most dads have when their sons jog back to the dugout having caught the inning-ending pop fly.

  “What about payment?” the tyrant asked gently.

  “Oh yeah, right. There has to be a price. Shift the focus on how much the life of the president was worth.”

  “A million, ten million, maybe 100 million dollars?” suggested Panzer.

  “How much could Abu Jihad afford before authorities get suspicious?” asked Diegert.

  “Of course, I say ten million then. It’s an attention-grabbing number for which most people could imagine themselves being coerced into taking this action.”

 

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