“This sounds hard to believe,” I said.
“It does, doesn’t it? But listen: the Pantopian Union was created to form a single market and a political union across the continent. The Union is not run by its feckless Parliament but by the unelected and unaccountable bureaucrats. The Pantopian Commission, the Central Bank, the Council, the Court of Justice. They can impose their will on the entire Union, and no one has the right to object. This is how they rammed through their single market, their single currency, and now their refugee quotas.”
I forced myself to breathe and listen. Eve had to have a good reason for bringing him aboard.
“Consider what is going on in Pantopia,” Stepan continued. “The current political narrative is that we must save the refugees from the Near East, and the people who want them out are ‘nationalists,’ ‘racists’ and ‘xenophobes.’ Through the mass media, the people have been primed to believe this narrative.
“Now look at how they framed Hexenhammer. They conducted a false flag attack in Chios, wiping out a refugee camp, and then painted us as Phosterian ultranationalists. This feeds into the narrative. The hard left will see proof that we are evil and must be destroyed, and the people in the center will see proof that the hard left is correct. In doing this, the globalists have turned everyone in the world away from the right.”
“I see,” Eve said. “It’s exactly like Saul Alinsky’s Rule of Deception.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Pick the target, freeze it, personalize it and polarize it. That’s what they’ve done to us. They picked Hexenhammer as a target because it’s easy to spin us as terrorists. Through the false flag attack, they froze our image in the public consciousness as ultranationalist terrorists. And… Mein Gott.”
“What?”
“Every single arrested Hexenhammer operative is an ultranationalist. The press will interview them, and when the ultras are hauled before the courts, the ultras will make public statements to get their message across. The media will use this opportunity to personalize Hexenhammer by making us look like the face of evil. And soon, the media will replace ‘ultranationalist’ with simply ‘nationalist.’ if they haven’t done that already.”
“What about the Hexenhammer operatives on the enemy’s hitlist?” I asked. “They’re not ultranationalists?”
She shook her head so hard her hair went flying. “We’re not. If we’re arrested, we could contradict the narrative. They must silence us.”
Stepan’s face paled. “This is… I’d almost say unbelievable, but after what happened… I can’t. Not anymore.”
“And,” I said, “they polarize Hexenhammer by saying that everyone who supports Hexenhammer is a Nazi. Including everyone on the right who disagrees with the current political narratives and agendas.”
“Yes, exactly,” Stepan said. “That’s what’s happening now. Who wants to side with Nazis? And how better to stand against them than to throw your support with the ones who claim to fight Nazis?”
“What’s the endgame?” I asked. “What does the enemy get out of it?”
“To unite people under a new world order, you must destroy all competing sources of identity,” Stepan said. “Nationalism and religion. If you paint nationalism and religion as evil and posit the new world order as a superior alternative, people will flock to the latter.”
“They just want a new world order?”
“No, of course not. This is a strategy of tension: create an atmosphere of fear to divide the people and achieve your goals. The people are afraid, so naturally they will demand increased protections and government power. Look at who benefits from the chaos.
“The bureaucrats will use the opportunity to grow their power. The politicians will be voted into office or stay there. Armies, police agencies and intelligence organizations will expand. The military-industrial complex will earn vast sums of money selling arms and equipment and services.”
“Sounds like another conspiracy theory,” I said.
“Ah, but this one worked.”
“Who did it?”
“Operation Gladio.”
“Gladio? I thought it was a stay-behind organization.”
“It was, but it did more. When Italia seemed in danger of electing left-wingers during the Cold War, Gladio operatives bombed newspapers and the headquarters of right-wing political parties and pinned the blame on the left. They wanted to discredit the left and drive the people toward the right.”
“I’ve never heard of this before.”
“I’m not surprised. After this was leaked to the public, the government did everything in its power to suppress the truth. Shortly afterward, the Soviets invaded Germania.”
“World War Three washed away the sins of Operation Gladio,” Eve remarked.
“Was Luigi involved in terrorism?” I demanded.
She shifted uneasily in her seat.
“I don’t know… Why?”
“It could influence how much help NISA is willing to give him.”
“He’ll be fine. I think.”
It wasn’t reassuring. Here I had a journalist spewing arguments that came from conspiracyland and a former journalist-turned-vigilante claiming she had links to someone tainted by terrorism.
Someday, I had to ponder the life choices that had brought me to this point.
“I still don’t buy it,” I said. “You’re talking about hundreds—if not thousands—of people in this conspiracy. You can’t possibly keep a conspiracy like that secret.”
“It’s not a secret conspiracy if you can see what they’re doing,” Eve said.
“They’ve spent decades seeding the media with disinformation and propaganda,” Stepan said. “They don’t have to hide anything anymore. I mean, look at your reaction to what we’re saying. You don’t really believe us, do you?”
After the fall of the Soviet Union, the conspiracy theory du jour was that the United Nations would seize control of the world. Even as a kid I’d laughed at it. It made no sense; the UN didn’t possibly have that kind of power. The only thing that theory was fit for was creating backstories for hack science-fiction novels.
But now…
Who had the power to place agents in Interpol?
Who had the ability to run hit teams of cloned giants across the continent?
Who had the means to resurrect the ghosts of the Third World War?
Most importantly: who had the motive to frame Hexenhammer?
Eve patted my shoulder. Her fingers were soft and warm.
“Hey, I know it’s a lot to take in,” she said. “You don’t have to believe us right now. Just take your time.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “Well, you’ve certainly given me a lot to think about. There’s only one way to be sure of what you’ve just said.”
“What’s that?” Stepan asked.
“We snatch Hans Brandt and have him tell us who he’s working for. Eve, gather the team. Let’s finish this.”
She smiled at me. “Sure.” Turning to Stepan, she said, “Thanks for your input.”
“Oh, thank you for saving us,” Stepan said. “I don’t know how I can repay you.”
“Maybe you should talk to Luke about that.”
She breezed out the room. Stepan glanced at her and then raised an eyebrow at me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Are you and Eve?”
“No.”
“Could have fooled me. I’ve known her for a long time. Five years, I think, ever since she was an up-and-coming reporter.”
“I’ve never seen a woman who changes her moods as often as she does.”
He laughed. “Then you’ve never known many women.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Instead, I said, “Regardless, it’s been an illuminating conversation. Thanks for coming.”
“Thank you.”
“You are free to go. You have access to most of the airship, but please stay out of the war room—this room—unless we
invite you. If we need you, we’ll call for you.”
We shook hands. He finished his tea and left the room. I grabbed my coffee and headed to the nearest window. The sun was rising over a sea of clouds. The panel tinted, shielding my eyes from the glare and ultraviolet light. I sipped my coffee, took a deep breath and watched the clouds roll by.
I needed to clear my head before the team came.
And forget the touch of her hand and the smile on her face.
Eta: The Reversal
Outside of emergencies, Hans Brandt never made Organization-related phone calls.
This was an emergency.
“What’s your status?” Brandt demanded.
“No sign of the target,” Brunner reported. “Nothing to report. What’s the problem?”
“Were you spotted?”
“We took every measure to detect and flush mobile surveillance, but if the threat employed static surveillance, there isn’t much we could do. Why? Have we been discovered?”
Brandt licked his lips.
“It’s worse. Martel just sent me an email. I’m going to read it out for you.
“I have recovered Stepan and his family. They are doing fine. I apologize for the deception: we suspected that our communications are being monitored by foreign intelligence services, and we decided to lay down disinformation. Fortunately, we have found no evidence that our emails have been compromised.
“I have chartered an airship and have picked up some surviving Hexenhammer operatives. We need sanctuary until the crisis blows over. Are you able to receive us and provide a safe house?”
“That’s a lie, isn’t it?” Brunner asked.
“Yes. I think she employed a canary trap. We have to assume we’ve been flushed.”
“Hurekind,” Brunner muttered. “She’s setting another trap.”
“Yes. Martel is too clever by far. She will know that I know it’s a trap. No doubt she will take precautions.”
“What do we do?”
“Shut down the mission. Extricate yourself from field operations and revert to your cover, but keep an eye out for enemy activity. Pass on the word that Hexenhammer may be targeting law enforcement next and keep up the pressure on them.”
“Understood. What about you?”
“I need your operational assets. All of them. I’m going to finish this once and for all.”
“I could help.”
“No. It’s…” Brandt rubbed his temples. “You’re one of the Organization’s most valuable assets. Your work is consistently superb, and in this operation your performance is flawless. If something goes wrong, the Organization can’t afford to lose you, too.
“I’ll be going off the grid. When this is over, I’ll contact you through alternate or contingency means. If not… the Organization will be in touch.”
“Understood. Viel Glück.”
Brandt hung up. Cradling his head, he steeled himself for what had to be done. There was no easy way to do this. He just had to get it done.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the faint scent of fine tobacco that permeated the room. It would be a long time before he’d be back, before he’d have cigars again. If ever. More likely the Organization would relocate him. If he were successful. If not…
He preferred not to dwell upon failure. Getting up, he left his study and closed the door behind him.
Maria and Gretchen were in the living room, playing an educational game on Maria’s slate. A giant, fluffy dog surrounded by a bunch of objects asked for a bone. Gretchen touched the bone and dragged it to the dog. The bone disappeared, and the dog barked excitedly, wagging its tail.
Maria smiled, wrapping her hand around Gretchen’s shoulder.
“Well done!” Maria said.
Gretchen giggled. “Next one! Next one!”
Maria pressed a prompt. Looking up, she saw him. Her smile melted.
He knelt next to Gretchen, looking into her eyes. “Having fun?”
“Ja!”
Max rubbed her head. “I need to speak to Mami for a while. Think you can play by yourself?”
“Ja!”
“Good girl.”
He patted her head and stood. He cocked his head, and Maria followed him wordlessly to the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Maria, listen to me, but please don’t panic. I have just received word that Hexenhammer may be targeting Swiss intelligence officials, and I’m on the hit list.”
Her hands flew to her mouth. “Gott im Himmel!”
He grasped her shoulders. “Shhh, it’s fine, liebchen. Everything will be fine.”
“But… how… I… will you be fine?”
“Yes.”
She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight. He hugged her back, drinking in the warmth of her body, the strawberry scent of her hair.
“I’m going back to the office to assess the threat,” he said. “But I need you to take care of Gretchen for me. Pack your things and head to your mother’s house.”
“You’re a government official. Shouldn’t they have a protocol for this?”
“It’s the weekend. You know how it is. I’m going to the office to see just how big a threat it is. If it’s credible, I’ll send for you. But in the meantime, I need you to be safe.”
“I understand. But…” She sighed. “You told me your job was safe.”
“Yes… but our world isn’t safe now. I’m trying to make things safer.”
She sighed again, her breath warming his neck. “Be careful. Okay?”
“I will.”
She tilted her head up to face him. He kissed her, hard. She moaned, squirming beneath him. Heat rushed through him. He pressed on, attacking her lips with his own, and she met him with equal passion. Long, long moments later, they broke for air. She pressed her forehead against his.
“We should get going,” he said.
“Ja.”
Hand in hand, they returned to the living room. Gretchen frowned.
“Papi, what’s wrong?”
He sat next to her and placed her on his lap.
“I need to go back to work,” he said. “I don’t know when I’ll be home again, but it might take a while.”
She wriggled, pouting fiercely. “But that’s not fair! You just came home!”
Her words were like a knife in his heart. It was true he’d been busy lately, serving two masters at once. He usually left home before dawn and came back after midnight, if ever. Today was the first morning she’d seen him up and about for… he couldn’t remember. Certainly since the operation began.
“I’m sorry, liebchen, but I need to go.”
She whined. “But I don’t want you to go!”
He stroked her delicate hair. “I’ll make it up for you. I promise.”
“You always say that.”
“And I always mean it.” He kissed her forehead. “Now, how would you like to stay with Grossmami?”
“I want to stay with you.”
“Well, it can’t be helped.” He held her head to his chest. “When I’m done with my work, I’ll come join you.”
She sniffed. “Come quickly, okay?”
“Of course.”
Maria held out her hands.
“Come, Gretchen. We should start packing.”
Max stood, letting Maria take Gretchen’s hand. Then, he enveloped his arms around them, holding them closely.
“Papi!” Gretchen giggled. “I can’t breathe.”
He smiled. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Be safe,” Maria said.
“I will.”
He kissed his wife on the lips. Bending over, he kissed his daughter on the forehead.
“Let’s go,” Maria said.
As mother and daughter headed for their rooms, he returned to the study. He had to pack up, wipe his computers and take his operation on the road. But first, he needed to finish a few more things. Opening his secure email app, he composed a fresh message.
The Yel
low Ghost had put him in touch with other cells from the Organization. One of them, headed by someone called him Portier, specialized in intelligence. It was time to see if Portier and his crew could pull their weight.
The target has contacted me via email. See attached document. I believe she is trying to flush me. We need to turn the tables on her. Search for airship activity, focusing on Rhosia and East Pantopia. Should you find the airship, contact me immediately.
This mission had gone on for far too long. It was time to end this. Once and for all.
4. Induction
“The ball is in his court now,” Eve reported.
Everyone around the table tensed. This was the endgame—the moment when everything could fall apart with the toss of the dice.
“How long will Brandt take to reply?” I asked.
“Within a day.”
Alex shook his head. “Don’t be so sure about that. He’s a trained spy. He knows that you just pulled a canary trap. He could just disappear and leave us hanging in the wind.”
“And leave us free to contradict his narrative?” I replied. “He knows he can’t leave us alive. He can’t afford even the slightest possibility that we’ll go to the press or just ask Stepan to tell the truth to the whole world. No, he’ll have to play along with us and set up a meet.”
“I’m not down with the idea of letting the bad guy know we’re coming for him.”
“I don’t see much of a choice here,” Eve said.
“We know that he knows that we know that he knows it’s a trap,” I said, trying to keep it all straight in my head. “He’ll try to reverse the trap, so we’ll have to be ready to reverse his reversal.”
“Aw, man,” Pete said. “It’s too damn early to go messing with our heads like that.”
“That’s how the game is played,” I said.
“Brandt knows we’re coming for him,” Keith said. “He’s going to set up in favorable terrain and emplace an ambush on site. But he’ll expect us to know that and counter that plan.”
“The moment he tells us the rendezvous point, we’ll have to be underway,” Pete said. “We can’t afford any delays. We need our hardware ready to go and a plan of action.”
Hammer of the Witches (The Covenant Chronicles Book 2) Page 42
