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All the Company Men: Marcus Grimshaw #2 (The Secret State)

Page 13

by C. J. Steinberg


  It took all the strength she had in her to remain composed and not ask questions. She knew that they would tell her what the meeting is all about, but that innate human need to know was pushing her.

  “Please have no worries,” Daniel reassured her. “All these measures are necessary to make sure that what we do stays hidden. You see, Evelyn, we have been watching you for a long time, very carefully and attentively. That is why we have given you a shot as the CEO of our great company. We didn’t know what was going to happen or how you would adapt the role. We saw you as the only viable choice, but we kept an eye on you.

  “We know you have been asking questions. We have seen you digging in the archives and asking people what was happening around you. Then we saw the conclusion of it all when you blew up George Morrow and Jack Johnson. We saw that we could trust you, so I proposed to my friends the idea to bring you closer into the loop, to show you what is happening around you and what it all means. We want to demonstrate the big picture, fully and comprehensively.”

  Evelyn’s heart was beating so hard that she couldn’t even think. Words became unreachable objects, constantly slipping from her grasp, moving farther and farther away from her.

  “The legends are all true, Evelyn,” he said. “We have all heard the tales of the Masons, the Illuminati, the this, and the that. All those tales are actually true. Every period in history, however, has its own what-you-might-call secret society that, as they say, controls it all. They all reach that level where they actually do possess the power. That is when the stories start leaking out. Like Arthur, for example. That man is pushing on all sides to have the truth out there, for the people. Yet, we persevere, stay strong and evasive. And we have already started our campaign to fortify the conspiracy, to make sure people do not get a decisive answer, thus ensuring the mystery, the conspiracy, the uncertainty.

  “Meanwhile, we get to do what needs to be done. You wanted to know what was happening and where everything is going, Evelyn. Well, here is your chance.”

  Evelyn looked at the shadowy, stern faces around the table, their age lines deepened by the shadows, and their expressionless faces staring back at her. The full power of the world was gathered in the main room, chatting and sipping champagne, all ready to lay their lives for Daniel and his cause.

  “I do not know what to say,” Evelyn said, and it was the truth.

  “We understand,” Jonathan Burr said. “What is about to happen is larger than life itself. What we aim to do will fix the world, once and for all.”

  Evelyn looked at him, and nothing more. She didn’t even blink.

  “I will tell you a little story,” Daniel said. “Some seventy years ago, my grandfather inherited a small investment company. He was a happy man for a lot of years, living the high life, making money, providing for his family. Then, one faithful day, his wife—my grandmother—was run over by a car.” Evelyn noticed that Daniel’s accent had changed from high society British to the Southern droll. “It turned out that a black chap had run him over, high on crack cocaine. My grandmother was a good woman. As her grandson, of course I will think that, but I wasn’t the only one who felt her absence. My grandfather became sad and melancholic. His wife was his bedrock, and now he had lost it. Things had to change.

  “He didn’t blame the black man, though. He blamed poverty. He blamed the systemic oppression of the populace, the sheer poverty they were forced to live in. He wanted to change things. So he set out on a mission of changing the world for the better. He knew, though, that he wasn’t going to live forever. He also knew that America’s dominance would not last forever. So he educated and prepared my father. And my father thought me. He was preparing us for something, but we had no idea for what. Suddenly, in my adolescent days, my father became more distant, more absent. He became a workaholic. I hated him for it. I was very young at the time, you see. Years later, though, I realized what my father was doing and I understood that he was right.

  “My grandfather spent his last years bringing people together in a sort-of secret club. Most of those people were rich and powerful. Then my father brought in more people and took charge of the Order. At the time, I was stepping into the family business, learning how everything worked and operated, the ins and outs. Then, one night, my father breaks down and cries in front of me. The next day, he takes me to a meeting in the woods. Hearing his speech on the podium, seeing the seriousness of all those people, I finally understood the absence, the need for it, the reasoning behind it. Yes, I was his son. But he was taking care of the whole world. You see, his mother was abruptly taken away from him when he was young. His wife—my mother—didn’t live for very long either. There is a Clarkson family curse, you see. All our women are taken from us before their time. The way my father saw it was like this—it was the price to be paid for the greater good. He had to make great things happen.

  “The Dark Forrest Order kept on growing in numbers and influence. Soon, the Soviet Union fell, and we were able to spread our influence far and wide, throughout the entire Western World. After 9/11, we were surely and steadily on our way to absolute power. You see, since that event, our company has been steering America in the right direction. We have seen so many bad presidents and so many bad decisions made that brought America further and further down. So we moved the global power to China. Soon, Germany took their rightful place on the throne of Europe. By 2008, things had already shifted. We were in control. Then, as we had predicted, the stock market crashed and utterly destroyed America.

  “We felt they deserved it. Too much death, blood, and selfish moves. Too many victims. The power had shifted, but it is only a matter of time before peace is once more destroyed and people sacrificed. It is a constant loop—peace, then chaos, then peace again. It is constant. We are the ones that can put a stop to it.

  “No other secret society—as they are commonly referred to—has even come close to fixing the world. They were disorganized; they were old men in desperate need of company, a place to belong to, and nothing more, like my grandfather. The Masons, the Illuminati, the Jesuits—none succeeded because small-minded men were interested only in personal gain. We, on the other hand, have reached the top in our respective ambitions. Jonathan is the CIA Director. I am in charge of the largest and most powerful investment fund in the whole world. Ellen is the First Lady. Patrick is a Nobel laureate and Attorney General. We are on top of America. So we have collected ourselves, grouped together, and worked toward a common goal. Not common in the sense that it will benefit us, but common in the sense that it will benefit the entire world in the long run. The revolution, and I mean that in the original sense, must stop. There is only one way of doing that.

  “If we make an enormous sacrifice right now, then the constant revolution of bad and good that crushes everyone beneath them will seize. It will stop. And we will witness a hundred years of peace. That, Evelyn, is the purpose of the Order. That, Evelyn, is the purpose of everything we in this room do. It is not about money or power, it is not about status or vanity—it is about making the world a better place for a very long time. And we know exactly how to do it. And we know exactly when it is going to happen. All the players are in the game, and after seven decades and three generations of people, we are a few months away from the first step to achieving the unachievable—global peace.

  “And that is why you are here now and today. You are capable, smart, young. You know how to work people and how to work with people. We want you to join us, Evelyn. We want you to be a part of this. What say you?”

  Evelyn felt cold and alone. She was isolated in a room with the most powerful people of America. It is what she had wanted her entire life, but it has become something that frightened her. In theory, it all looked so simple and straight-forward. Now that she faced the end result, she was at a loss, feeling like that little girl in the projects.

  What to say to these people? If she says no, she will surely not live for long. If she says yes, then she avows herself to the thin
g she dreads. She will be promised to the man who is responsible for her father’s death. He had admitted as much himself when he said that the Order had spread out throughout the Western world when the Soviet Union fell.

  Then another thought entered her mind. What if they’re right? What if this is the only way to fix the world, to save all the little girls for generations to come from feeling the pain of losing their fathers? What if my personal squabble is the reason why the world is so chaotic? What if there could be peace? What if there was order?

  Evelyn knew very well that powerful people often say inspirational things to get ahead, to get what they want and desire, and they do it in such a convincing way that they leave very little room for argument. What if she is being manipulated? But what if I’m not?

  The candle lights moved about, making the shadows on the faces of the statuesque members of the Order dance around, as if to some ominous melody some higher power orchestrated.

  “Sir,” she tried, but words wouldn’t come out. “What you’re saying...” She trailed off.

  “For every good deed, two evils must be committed,” Daniel calmly said.

  “Billions of lives, you said. Billions of lives. What does that mean?”

  “It means that we must do what needs to be done to end the suffering of all the billions yet to come into the world.”

  Evelyn felt that he was a madman. Jack and Marcus came to her mind. Her mother in tears came to her mind. That little girl from the projects was reaching out with her little hand, drifting farther into the darkness until her bear-decorated white pajamas became a dot in the distance, forever slipping away from Evelyn. Then the galaxy exploded into existence and the decision was clear.

  “I am with you,” Evelyn said. “Because you are right. You are absolutely right. This truly is the only way to make the world a better place. I see it so clearly now.” Evelyn joined the silence of all the others in the room, becoming statuesque as they were. Now she understood. Now she knew.

  “Please stand,” Daniel said. Jonathan handed him a knife. As the blade seared into the palm of her hand and blood trickled out, Evelyn gave in to their cause. She repeated the words they told her to repeat, avowing herself to the Company and the Order.

  Then that little girl came before her eyes again. “Never forget who you really are,” the little girl whispered.

  FOURTEEN

  J ose stayed strong and true to their great surprise and relief. He was asked to spy on Patrick Don, his employer, a Nobel laureate, billionaire, and politician, and still he didn’t waver. The information Jack and Marcus were able to get from the wire was priceless. It expanded the picture on the size of the conspiracy they were aiming to stop, learning how deep it really went into the highest echelons of society, and it gave them a way to move forward. And they now knew exactly whom they were dealing with.

  Patrick Don was a man of discipline, intellect, and pragmatism. Listening to his phone conversations, tracking his movement from one place to another, listening to face-to-face meetings in his Mercedes, they saw why he was so important to the organization—the man was like a machine. Everything he did was timed. Every word he said was measured. He was direct, commanding, and in absolute control. He had three mistresses in his life, young and beautiful, and he had them, just as well as his business, timed to perfection. Chances were, Marcus and Jack joked, that he timed his sexual performance as well.

  Their observations of the king’s most trusted man made them realize why he was the chosen one to be in the heart of the masterplan. But they were going to stop him if it was the last thing they did.

  “Okay, he is leaving,” Jack said. Marcus was sitting in the van next to him, clad in a dark suit, his face painted black. The idea was for him to blend into the night as he exercised the old trade that had helped him survive on the street before he joined the army. His expertise—his art, as he called it—lay in burglary. He was the one who could break any lock, crack any safe, and outsmart any security system. It surprised him that his expertise would come in useful so late in his life, especially in that situation. For all his extraordinary abilities and gifts, Patrick Don was still only human. And, as every human out there, he had become complacent, disregarding the assumption with which all the people in the game need to live with—there are eyes and ears everywhere. Apart from all the hours of conversation that took place in the car, Patrick was callous enough to mention the fact that he was holding all the files and documents that he had received and compiled through the years in his house safe. It was, to his credit, a state-of-the-art safe, but it was still in his house. That was another element of Patrick that revealed his humanity—he kept the most important things very close to heart. The documents were maybe crucial to his moves or maybe just secondary, but it was not something that can’t be kept in physical form. Especially not at home.

  “Are you ready,” Jack said.

  “Of course I’m ready,” Marcus replied. It had been such a long time since he was in a truly good mood, ready to take on the whole world. He was feeling alive, feeling like he was finally coming back to existence.

  “Once Arthur gets the photos, I am certain that he will be able to go publicly after them.”

  “That’s the plan, at least.”

  “No time for cynicism, brother. This is it. Whatever we find will be damning for the president-elect, and Evelyn will give us something worth our while. At the end of the day, the world will be aware.”

  “And the president will fall.”

  “And with him Daniel’s plans.”

  Marcus nodded. Jack went deep into his mind, joining a party in his head where all the events he had planned were unfolding, where all his dreams were coming true—Daniel was put in prison for his many crimes, the CIA was revamped, the IMF and the World Bank were aflame, and the people free. He remembered what he had read in the file months back, seeing what was said word for word. The black American people were put through so much for so many years and all in the name of a better world, the file stated. How is putting a group of people to their knees serving to make a better world? How is that not racism? How is it possible that a man as smart as Daniel would ever think that would change the world?

  “That man will never be inaugurated,” Jack said. He felt Marcus’ eyes on him, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He didn’t care. Throughout the years there were only a handful of black Americans who were able to do anything about the world their brothers lived in, only a handful of people who were able to shake the system; all of them ended up being shot or incarcerated, making the black people spiral into chaos soon after. And the cycle kept on going. The times have changed though, Jack thought. I have a real chance to make America better for black people. For all people. He did not care if that was only in his mind or if it was actually plausible for him to achieve it. All he cared about was doing what needed to be done, to preserve the hope that the world will be healed.

  The lights on Patrick’s mansion went out, and they could hear him giving directions to Jose on the wire.

  “Here we go,” Marcus said.

  “Indeed,” Jack replied.

  “You go to the meeting as soon as I leave this car. Chang got your back.”

  Jack nodded. He picked up the walkie-talkie. “Didier, do you copy?”

  “Copy. The target just left.”

  Marcus and Jack shared a moment of brotherly love between two men. They felt love for each other but they did not express it in words, but only in a look, and a firm handshake. Not another word needed to be uttered, as Marcus took off.

  “Alright, Didier, I am off.” Jack said.

  “Go with God, brother. I got Marcus.”

  Jack turned on the van and drove off to the underpass to meet Evelyn. The evidence she had mentioned the day before on the phone will be waiting there for Jack. The mission was coming slowly to a positive conclusion.

  Yet he doubted everything.

  Jack had learned a long time ago that theory and practice often diff
er in so many ways. Man makes plans and God laughs, the proverb goes, and Jack had seen that many times in practice. If Evelyn was telling the truth, and if she comes through with her promise, then he will be a step closer to his goal. If the safe holds what was promised, then the world will become a much, much better place. Jack could feel it coming and disappearing from his reach at the same time.

  What if she is lying, he wondered. What if she is setting him up? Chang was already there, watching the scene through a scope. If anything looked suspicious, Jack would have received a call by now. But what if Chang is dead? Then another worm found it’s way in his brain—what if Chang sold them out? What if he was the one feeding information to Evelyn? What if everything he is doing is just a prolonged inevitable conclusion of his early demise?

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said aloud. If this is the way I go, then this is the way I go. Marcus said himself that there was no time for worries. Of course we are going to doubt and question everything. Of course we are going to tremble in fear at the prospect of it all. Even if we are wrong about being on the right track with what we have planned, then let death come. Who wants to live in a world controlled by a small group of people? No one. So many revolutions and wars were started because of this very reason, so many people leapt into their deaths for this. And if my death is to come before I thought it would, then let it come. At the very least, before I fall, I will deliver a crippling blow to the Company and the Order.

  While Jack was going through the gears of his mind, Marcus had already found a way past the security system. It was challenging to go through it, but when he got the plans to Patrick’s house and inside information from the security company—another gratuity by Evelyn—it wasn’t so hard. The difficult part that remained was the safe itself.

  Marcus had always loved his good work as a kid on the streets because it was a job that required him to focus on only what’s in front him. His thoughts were heavy and profound, his trauma strong and always present, but when he was breaking into people’s houses he would forget about everything. When one is cracking a safe, all his senses need to be intensified and his brain needs to be a vacuum, putting all thoughts in the background.

 

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