LETHAL SCORE

by Mannock, Mark

  Head down, mood change.

  “Vittoria,” began Ascardi, “was a beautiful girl. My beloved sister had no malice and bore no one any animosity. She was not part of my business; she had no relationship with my sponsors. She had done nothing.”

  Another pause, deeper into the darkness.

  “These bastards kidnapped her. They told me what they’d done and made the usual threats to bring me into line. I ignored them. I had the power and resources to find my sister. I was beholden to no one. I had complete confidence. A week later my beautiful Vittoria’s body was dumped on my doorstep, like a pile of unwanted garbage.”

  Ascardi stopped talking and again looked to the ground. I could barely hear the man as he muttered “the arrogance.”

  I didn’t know if he was referring to his or theirs, but there it was, the tipping point.

  All I could say was, “I’m sorry.”

  The entrepreneur stared absently across the room. I couldn’t guess what he was seeing. Then he resumed. “So, through the fog of my debilitating grief I began to strategize. There was no chance I was going to roll over for those cretinous morons who murdered my sister, but I had to consider my response. That was the hardest bit. I realized I would have to appear to acquiesce to their demands to give myself time to plan.”

  Again there was a pause in the story. I assumed Ascardi was deciding how much to say. I’d assumed incorrectly.

  “Ah, yes, I see from the pathos in your eyes that you now think this to be a case of an emotionally injured man whose grief has sent him into a downward spiral.”

  Ascardi had assumed correctly.

  “I’m afraid that’s only part of the story. You see, like anyone in deep mourning I began reflecting on my life and achievements. Looking at my success, you would think my self-assessment would have been positive. Sadly not. For the first time, my grief allowed me the clarity to see the way the world, people, had embraced my work. The sheer influence over millions, if not billions, of lives was gratifying. The effect of that influence was mortifying.

  “People hadn’t used the platforms I had given them to improve the world, to reach out to others. They used my technology and my vision to inflame their own vanities. Where people once sought success, they now only seek notoriety and attention. My social media platforms are full of people who have achieved absolutely nothing, displayed no talent, yet through me they stake a claim on celebrity and build influence over others. A complete moron expresses an ignorant opinion on social media, and suddenly it’s a movement. A talentless model snaps a couple of stylish selfies, and suddenly they’re an icon. Society has peaked, and we don’t seem to realize. Every tower humanity has built will come crashing down in a valueless sea of moral corruption, and not only will it be our fault for doing nothing about it, it will be my fault for enabling it!”

  Ascardi’s breathing was becoming labored, and his voice fell into a deep rasp as he spoke. The man’s thoughts spilled out of his mouth with an increasing tempo, such was the urgency of his passion.

  “Then there’s the politicians,” continued the entrepreneur. “Our leaders. Our society, apart from a few glitches, has mostly sprouted strong leaders who had the integrity, passion, and fortitude to counteract those who breed evil. Leaders with vision—do you remember them, Nicholas? Churchill, Obama, Ardern. With despair in my heart, I tell you: that time has passed.”

  I was unconvinced, but I wanted Ascardi to keep talking. “In what way?”

  “Power! Today these pissant leaders are only about power and optics. Politicians seek only to win the twenty-four-hour news cycle. There is no forward thinking, nothing beyond today’s popularity and the next election. And of course, it is not lost on me that I was one of the entrepreneurs who empowered that same news cycle. I helped create the massive warping of reality we’ve currently labeled fake news, and now we can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. If a politician decides global warming doesn’t exist, that becomes his reality and that of his or her followers. That’s the worst part, Nicholas. I’ve enabled a world of deception; we took the filters away and allowed ourselves to be our worst. You don’t have to be a genius to realize the endgame here will be the destruction of the planet.”

  Ascardi was now breathing rapidly, his forehead glistening in a film of perspiration.

  “So, there you have it. The one person I have ever truly loved, my beautiful Vittoria, died through my self-obsessive neglect and the duplicity of my colleagues. My life vision of a world enriched by communication is now on the verge of destruction, ruined by those to whom I had gifted my dream. This is my legacy. Betrayal and disappointment … beyond repair.”

  A moment’s silence.

  “I sought to protect, but in reality, I destroy. I think you know a little about that, don’t you, Nicholas? Kindred spirits, perhaps?”

  Sucker punch.

  Chapter 38

  The sound of the technicians pecking away on keyboards resonated in the background as I thought about all Ascardi had said. If the man before me hadn’t murdered so many innocent people, I could have felt empathy for him. Even with that, it was hard not to feel something.

  “I get it,” I said, although I really didn’t. “But how does everything that’s happened over the last few weeks connect? I get the why but not the how.”

  “I have spoken too much already, so I’ll be brief,” replied Ascardi. “The attempt to trigger an explosion at the nuclear power plant in Scotland was simple. It also displays a pleasing duality. The company that owns the plant is largely underwritten by my own Italian backers. They have many hidden investments around the globe, including a great deal of money in fossil fuels and nuclear energy. Thirty years ago, the fools thought it would be a way to hold the future to ransom. The Cinaed explosion meant I would damage them financially. More to the point, it would have damaged the nuclear industry. The disaster would have been felt around the world, as with Chernobyl. One step forward for the planet.”

  And hundreds if not thousands of deaths, I thought silently.

  Ascardi chuckled. “You know, even though, thanks to you, the detonation failed, there was a bonus outcome.” He raised an eyebrow. “My media group was able to report the details of the attack before anyone else because I knew what was happening in advance. Food for thought, don’t you think, Nicholas? Don’t just report the news, create it as well. The ultimate media saturation.”

  I didn’t respond.

  “The rest is relatively straightforward. The British chancellor, the French politicians, the Italian prime minister, they were all hell-bent on curbing the powers of social media ownership. The fools were attempting to introduce regulations that would force the two or three most powerful influencers to divest interests, weaken our strength. They also wanted us to take some responsibility for the content on our platforms. As if we could change human nature.”

  “But if you wanted to make some restitution for what you’d created, wouldn’t those regulations have helped you?” I asked.

  “Way too little, much too late. The regulations would have only hampered me. This war needs to be waged by someone more powerful than mere countries. My plan involves a certain amount of public havoc, and yes, Nicholas, there will be some collateral damage. But your country knows all about that, doesn’t it?”

  I ignored the jibe. “So, the politicians who impeded your plans had to be murdered. Even your friends?”

  “For heaven’s sake, define ‘friends’? In that sordid little world, every friendship has a purpose. My relationship with those men had become vacuous. In all honesty, I suspected their altruistic approach had little to do with good intentions anyway. A little covert digging, and it turned out all but one of them had either taken bribes from or were blackmailed by my mafia friends in their bid to diminish my influence.”

  “Even Gabriel Arquette?”

  “No, he was the one exception. It was a shame. I’d known Gabriel for a long time, but he was a talker. Thanks to his perception of my suc
cess, people were beginning to question how I got started.”

  Brutal.

  “Now I think I’m over-bragging here, Nicholas, but I’ve got to share the real kicker with you. I had invited the two senior mafia leaders, the capomandamenti, to meet me in Paris. Peace talks, if you like. I wanted them to think I was declaring a truce. We had a lovely dinner just before—”

  “Just before you escorted them to box five at the Palais Garnier, the night of our concert.”

  Ascardi produced a glacial smile. “If that didn’t send a message, nothing would.”

  I was starting to feel like Atlas with the whole damn world sitting on his shoulders.

  “But what about all this?” I asked, waving my hand across the room.

  “As is my way, I have sought and found alternative solutions. I really thought you and Jack Greatrex would have worked it out by now. Apparently not,” he shrugged.

  “By murdering people?” I asked.

  “There is no other way.”

  I must have looked like an unbeliever, so Ascardi explained.

  “Tonight, Nicholas, tonight will see my plans elevate to the next level. Take a look at that first screen.” Ascardi indicated a large screen in front of the stone wall behind him. He tapped his keypad, and a list of names appeared:

  THE NATURAL EARTH ARMY

  THE UNION OF ISLAMIC FIGHTERS

  THE GHOSTS OF THE REVOLUTION

  “You recognize the names, I presume,” he said.

  I nodded.

  “Yes, they are the groups who have claimed responsibility for the attacks in Scotland, London, and Paris. Of course, they are all my groups. When I say ‘my’, I should add that they all existed before I found them. I have spent two years scouring the world for malcontents whose ambitions exceeded their capabilities.

  “I have supplied them with money and means. I have primed them for action. All this, of course, without them knowing their benefactor’s identity. These three groups were my test run. It has gone well, I think.”

  I maintained my silence. Ascardi pressed his keypad again. The groups multiplied. He scrolled down. There were far too many to count.

  “Over two hundred insurgent organizations around the world, Nicholas, all under my control, financially and operationally. These vigilantes have two things in common apart from my sponsorship. They have all been overactive on social media, calling for some sort of revolutionary change, be it political or environmental. All are extreme in their views, accepting violence and bloodshed as necessary. That’s why they had struggled for support, support that I have given them.”

  “I’m not understanding how …” I began.

  “Let me explain,” Ascardi responded. “Tonight, several of these groups will act; some political leaders at the highest levels around the world are now living their final few hours. I believe there is a senator from Utah who has been strongly advocating reducing global emissions targets. He seems to be gaining some momentum not only in Washington but through spreading ignorant lies on his social media platforms. Tonight he will be assassinated by a car bomb outside his office after a meeting with oil company executives. Responsibility for the attack will be claimed by a group known as the Tribunal of Penance.” Ascardi scrolled down his list. “Ah, here they are.”

  The entrepreneur continued. “A similar purge will occur in Greece, where three cabinet members are meeting secretly to discuss dismantling environmental safeguards in order to encourage more productive business relationships with the rest of Europe. Incidentally, all three politicians have received enormous financial donations for their upcoming election campaigns from companies controlled by the Cosa Nostra. Their deaths will be in a motor accident. The group responsible: the Alliance of Diminishing Light. You’ve got to love some of these names.”

  There will also be two major environmental catastrophes over the next twenty-four hours: there will be an enormous fire at India’s largest open-cut coal mine in West Bengal. It will take months to control and will incapacitate the site. We can’t ignore the developing countries. They do a lot of environmental damage in the name of economic growth. Anyway, that fire will be started and nurtured by the Ek Mauka—One Chance.” Again, Ascardi scrolled down his list to find the group.

  “Finally, there will be a nuclear detonation in the state of New Jersey on America’s heavily populated eastern seaboard. It will be initiated by the People’s Solar Coalition. Of course, this final event has been imposed on us by your interference at the Cinaed facility. You see, Nicholas, you saved a few thousand Scots only to cause the deaths of several thousand more of your compatriots.”

  I was certain someone had driven a pile driver through my stomach.

  Ascardi seemed to search my face, gauging the effect of his words.

  “Don’t look so mortified, Nicholas. This is a rolling campaign over many months. There will be many, probably thousands, more civilians who will die in this multitude of tragedies. We need the deaths of innocents to provoke the outrage.

  “If the world will not wake up by itself, I will wake it up. You must see where we’re going here, Nicholas? Valueless, corrupt leaders and organizations removed and incapacitated to create a vacuum for change. In one sweep I can mute the power of those who act only for themselves, including my mafia tormentors, and leave the world better placed to survive. I will save us from ourselves.

  “For my finale, once my arrows have been fired and my little war of influence has been waged, I will destroy what I have created. Over the last few months, I have developed some powerful malware. A powerful virus—a superbug, if you like—will be injected onto my own media platforms and those of my remaining competitors. Over time it will render all privacy settings dysfunctional. Around the globe every individual’s private information will be exposed for all to see. This crisis will make the Cambridge Analytica scandal look like a small inconvenience. All social media platforms will collapse under the weight of the world’s distrust.”

  “But that will destroy your own business.”

  “Regrettably, Nicholas, I will achieve through physical and social violence that which could not be achieved through peaceful advocacy. A familiar historical story, I believe. If I have to destroy myself to do it, so be it.”

  At first, I was speechless as I took it all in. Then I found my way. “My God, man, you have turned your grief into guilt, and your guilt has become an insane passion for revenge. Can’t you see that?” I offered.

  “No, Nicholas. All I see is the transformation of my legacy, possibly inspired by the depth of my grief; I grant you that, but nothing more. I am engineering a correction of the past. It is what must be done.”

  And I couldn’t see a way out.

  Chapter 39

  For several minutes Ascardi was distracted by his tablet. I assumed he was issuing instructions, commanding each cell of his militia. Eventually, he looked up, as though he had forgotten I was there.

  “You will need to go now. Vincenzo will make sure you are secure,” he instructed.

  “One last question,” I said. “Why me? Why did you drag me into this?”

  Ascardi looked at me like I was an annoying child who needed placating. He lowered his pad. I had his full attention again.

  “It’s complicated, Nicholas.”

  I held his eye.

  “All right. First, let me say the recording deal with you, Aislinn, and Patrick Jay Olden was all aboveboard. I was excited when I heard you together and thought you would be perfect for the Vittoria label. Amid the chaos of life, it is the role of the arts to be the tranquil healer. Truth be told, I think Vittoria would have loved your work as well.

  “It was after that when things went a little … ‘off-kilter.’ I was having trouble accessing some of the resources I had targeted, particularly those with paramilitary experience. These were essential to my plans. Coincidently, Vittoria’s lover, who shared my grief and my determination to effect social change, had some contacts. She had worked for a network that
had connections and influence all over the world. She put me in touch with them.”

  The term “network” gave me an uneasy feeling. I had heard it before.

  “These people made it clear they could help me out, but the help had a price … you.”

  “I’m not following,” I said.

  “You will, you definitely will,” said Ascardi.

  Apparently, you had recently done a disservice to these people and caused some major upheavals in their planning. To put it simply, you really pissed them off.”

  I didn’t like where this was going.

  “They mentioned something about Iraq, the Isle of Wight, and a man called Giles Winter. I presume you know him.”

  Pile driver again. I remained silent as I processed what I had just been told.

  Finally, I said, “I knew him, but he’s dead. I killed him.” It was too late to be anything but honest.

  “There you have it,” said Ascardi. “That’s why these people required me to implicate you for my test run. That explains it all. Of course, although I was slightly reluctant, I did agree to their terms … for the greater good. I must say that these are powerful people, Nicholas; they have a broad reach. They seem to function far more like a shadow government than the Cosa Nostra could.”

  I was reeling from the fact that this situation had anything to do with my previous interaction with Giles Winter and his people. It did, however, make a modicum of sense.

  As I sat there, putting it all together, Ascardi returned to work on his tablet. A few minutes later I heard the now familiar metallic scraping. I looked toward the trapdoor at the end of the room. Ascardi looked up from his work.

  “Ah, here we are,” he said.

  The hooded figure I had seen earlier seemed to float down the stairs in effortless movement.

  “Nicholas Sharp, I would like you to meet my partner in our quest for justice. This is Vittoria’s lover and friend. Do take off your hood, my dear,” he instructed.