The Chimera Vector (24 page)

He read over the record again. A proxy of the Fifth Column called the Argus Foundation had been monitoring the boy, Jay Cardoso, for years.

Jay’s stomach felt as if a brick had been dropped inside it.

‘The Argus Foundation,’ Sophia said. ‘They pretended to provide medicine and education. What they actually did was track potential test subjects for Project GATE and recruit them under the guise of a phony scholarship program. Do you remember the scholarship program, Jay?’

She was trying to sow suspicion into him. He laughed softly. He could play this game. And the moment she slipped up, she would wish she’d never fucked with him.

‘I’m not having a discussion about this with a goddamned terrorist,’ he said. ‘What do you want from us?’

‘The scholarship,’ Damien said beside him. He spoke in a conversational tone, as though they were all just sitting around having a beer. ‘They told us we could always leave the program. But no one ever did.’ His gaze fell on Jay. ‘Because we never really could.’

Jay glared at him. ‘What? Of course they did. I can count at least five off the top of my head.’

‘They’re dead,’ Sophia said. ‘They never left. They failed the program in one way or another and were allocated as expendable. Used for experimental testing of the Chimera vector codes.’

Jay glanced down at the record. Something caught his attention.

Suspected operative malfunction on 06–03–2012.

Subsequent reprogramming successful.

He flipped over the page and rifled through the other records, pausing when he recognized another face. The recruitment location was listed as Ostuni, Apulia, Italy.

Suspected operative malfunction on 06–03–2012.

Subsequent reprogramming successful.

Jay tightened his grip on the paper. ‘Damien,’ he said.

He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but Sophia heard him and nodded silently.

‘I’ve seen it,’ Damien said.

Jay stared at the picture. A round-faced, six-year-old Damien stared back at him with inquisitive eyes. Something struck deep inside Jay, hard and heavy as a stone. He threw the folder aside. He’d seen enough of this bullshit.

‘How much did you read?’ Sophia said.

‘Not much. I found your characters a bit two-dimensional.’

‘If you decide to cooperate, you’ll have access to a complete and detailed record of your entire life,’ Sophia said.

Her eyes weren’t on Jay. She was watching Damien pick up the folder and open it.

Jay leaned in close, his nose inches from the cage wall. ‘Do you really think we’re going to believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?’

‘I’ve already made Damien the same offer,’ Sophia said.

‘Already? When?’ Jay looked at Damien. ‘What did you say?’

Damien fidgeted. ‘I said only if you’re in.’

‘You’ll need to do a hell of a lot of convincing,’ Jay said to her.

‘I don’t need to convince you,’ she said. ‘You already know the Fifth Column owns you. Body and cell.’

It was as if something that had always been solid in Jay’s mind now stuttered.

‘Fortunately,’ she said, ‘we’ve speeded up the deprogramming process from weeks to a matter of days.’

Jay shook his head. ‘If you think you’re going to try that shit on me, then—’

‘Actually, we already have,’ she said. ‘Damien was first and you’ll be next. But we didn’t want to gut your programming entirely.’

There was that conversational tone again. Gut your programming, fuck you up, brainwash you. And a decaf soy latté, thanks.

‘What did you do?’ Jay yelled.

‘If Denton were to enquire into the integrity of your programming, you’d be busted. Then we’d be busted. Instead, I’ve inserted some hidden erasure switches, just for me. So when the time comes, all I need to do is say a few words and your programming erases itself. Permanently.’

A tiny voice in the back of his head said,
What if it’s true? What if this is all real?
He'd been supposed to shoot Sophia in Volterra. He never missed a shot. Until then.

He rocked forward, fingers grasping the cage bars, and told the voice to fuck off.

‘What the hell have you done to me?’ he yelled. She’d messed around inside his head doing all sorts of crazy shit. His heart thundered in his chest. He didn’t like being used. Especially by a terrorist. ‘You can paralyze us whenever you want, can’t you?’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘And so could Denton with the official trigger phrase. We need him to believe that you haven’t been tampered with. We also need to remove your programming the instant we go operational. Otherwise he could use you against us—and, if necessary, against yourselves.’

‘Yeah? And what’s stopping you from keeping the paralysis command in me forever?’ Jay said. He realized he was only half-yelling now.

Sophia kept her hand over her pistol. ‘If you help us with our operation, I’ll remove the paralysis trigger permanently. You have my word.’

‘Your word means shit,’ Jay said through clenched teeth.

The van stopped.

‘Tell that to the mentally retarded Iraqi women you strapped explosives to and sent into a crowded market,’ she said.

Jay felt a tendril of anger reel inside him. He remembered the operation, but he remembered it differently. They’d tricked suicide bombers into bombing their own base. There was no market. Or was there? He couldn’t breathe. It felt like Sophia had ripped him in two parts and smashed them back together.

‘I’ve read the files,’ Sophia said. ‘Was it Denton’s idea to use mentally disabled women as suicide bombers or was that yours?’

‘Shut up!’ Jay yelled. ‘You don’t know anything.’

She eyed him carefully. ‘I understand you were on an op in Algeria recently. To assassinate an exiled dictator.’

‘Crackerjack,’ Jay said. ‘We killed him. And his guards.’

‘You mean his family,’ Sophia said.

Jay remembered it clearly. A robed boy dropped into a crouch, rifle aimed. Jay shot him mid-crouch. Blood smeared the doorway as the boy collapsed into a seated position.

‘No!’ he yelled. ‘They were guards!’

But there was one woman. She’d trembled in the corner, dressed in purple robes. Three-round burst to the head. Bone and brain matter splattered the corner behind her.

Jay gripped the cage wall with both hands. ‘It doesn’t matter. He was a brutal dictator. He deserved what he got.’

‘That brutal dictator used his nation’s oil wealth to turn his country into the most progressive and modern of all African nations,’ Sophia said. ‘He had plans for a radical financial overhaul of African economies. To free them of us—the bloodsuckers—who have kept their nations in poverty for decades. That brutal dictator you killed was regarded by his nation as a diamond in a swamp of African misleaders. Misleaders who were installed and financed by the Fifth Column.’

‘A diamond?’ Jay said. ‘He ordered the assassination of nationals who turned against his regime!’

‘That story was made up,’ Sophia said.

‘He massacred over 1000 prisoners!’ Jay yelled. ‘That’s what caused the revolution in the first place!’

‘There’s no evidence of such a crime. And there was no popular revolution against him. There were only ever mercenaries, operatives, a well-orchestrated media campaign that covered everything from the
New York Times
to Twitter. And bombs. Lots of bombs.’

‘Open the cage!’ he yelled, shaking the wire with both hands. ‘Open the fucking cage!’

‘You murdered one of the world’s last leaders who actually cared for his people,’ Sophia said. ‘And you’ve helped throw Africa back to the wolves.’

Jay slammed the cage with the palms of his hands. ‘Shut up!’ He pulled back, clawed at the van’s rear hatch. ‘Just shut up.’

He was ready to leave, but the hatch was locked. Even if it was open, he couldn’t move if he wanted to. He was over it. He wanted out. Fuck this.

‘Unlock the van,’ Sophia said to the unseen driver.

Jay heard the lock click. He pulled the hatch open and stumbled out. He misjudged the distance to the asphalt, rolled onto one knee. He got back on his feet, staggering to one side as if a string had pulled him. The stench of bile filled his nostrils. His eyes watered, blurring his vision. He balanced himself against a parked car. He refused to vomit in front of her.

‘For what it’s worth,’ Sophia said, ‘it’s good to see you again.’

‘Yeah,’ Jay said. ‘Wish I could say the same.’

He wasn’t in control. He wasn’t himself. He usually knew exactly what to do and how to do it. He wanted to feel normal again.

‘I know that right now you feel hurt and deprived of your ideals.’ Sophia stood beside the van. She had her Beretta in one hand, probably just in case.

Jay focused on breathing. One breath after another. He wiped his lips. What she was saying, it wasn’t possible. No way this was real. He would deny it. He had to.

‘The Fifth Column has you not only fighting a false war but also fighting yourself,’ she said. ‘All of these years Denton has programmed your neopsyche to wage war on the real you.’

Jay inhaled sharply through his nostrils, then eyed her ruefully. ‘You think I’m Denton’s bitch. I do think for myself, you know. I’m fighting for something I believe in.’

‘You’re fighting an illusion, Jay. A real war with a real threat is too unpredictable. The Fifth Column decided it was a better idea to create a myth. They called this myth “terrorism”; “the suicide bomber”; “the fanatical insurgent”. It doesn’t matter if this pathological fantasy world isn’t real. The Fifth Column—with our help—make it real.’

Jay closed his eyes, willing everything to go away. He wanted to crawl into the corner and disappear. He still hated Sophia, but the hate was distant now.

‘You made me shoot the staff sergeant that day,’ Damien said.

It was the first time he’d spoken in a while. Jay hoped it caught Sophia off guard.

Sophia shook her head. ‘I didn’t make you do anything, Damien. Your own morality broke your programming. There was no set-up. And Jay broke his programming to save you. His covering fire saved both of us. What you’re feeling now is exactly how you felt on that night, isn’t it? You know the difference. Your real emotions and conscience are completely engaged.’

She turned to Jay. ‘It was the real Damien who wanted to stop the sergeant. And it was the real Jay who turned the bus around and tried to escape. Deep down, you both know that. You couldn’t explain it, but now I can. And now you know.’

Jay’s hands were shaking. Tears streamed down his cheeks, which were hot with shame. He couldn’t believe it. Not because he was scared. But because he felt different now. He
was
different. And there was no going back.

‘There will be very little warning,’ Sophia said. ‘Since I have a spy in my ranks I can’t give advance notice to anyone. If I give advance notice, Denton gets advance notice.’

Jay felt drained. His cheeks were dry now, but they still burned. He could barely pull the energy together to speak. ‘How do you know you have a spy?’

‘Someone from inside our base attempted to send an unauthorized outgoing communication from our darknet. We blocked the transmission, but did so in such a way that the spy wouldn’t realize it was blocked,’ Sophia said. ‘We don’t know for sure what the message contained or who was supposed to receive it, but my money’s on someone trying to reveal our location to Denton. They failed. So now Denton has to wait for me to come for the Chimera vector code.’

‘What does the vector do?’ Jay asked.

‘There are two Chimera vectors wrapped in encryption. The Axolotl Chimera vector was named after a Mexican salamander known for its regeneration capabilities. It regulates the rate of healing and also regenerates organs and limbs. A useful vector to have, but it’s not the one we want.’

Jay scratched the stubble on his neck, doing his best to act calm. ‘The other one must be pretty damn special.’

Sophia nodded. ‘Essentially, it’s an anti-psychopath vector. It targets a semi-dominant gene in the X chromosome that exists only in psychopaths, and renders the psychopath sterile.’

Jay tried to break her nerd-speak down into a simpler explanation. ‘So it turns bad people into nice people?’

‘No,’ she snapped. ‘They remain exactly as they are, but they can’t have children. If we can release this vector worldwide, psychopaths won’t be popping out babies any more. Before long, they’ll die off.’

‘And then what?’ Jay said.

‘And then, for once in a very long time, humanity can steer its own course,’ Sophia said. ‘Consider it a long-term solution.’ She raised her scarred eyebrow. ‘Providing the human race can survive long enough to reap the reward.’

Jay swallowed a lump in his throat. ‘That’s completely fucked up. You don’t have the right to do that.’

The van door slid open. A new voice said, ‘You don’t have a choice in that matter.’

Jay found himself staring at former Project GATE scientist Dr. McLoughlin. Former because she was supposed to be dead. Mid-fifties, eyes like ice. She didn’t dress too shabbily either. Chocolate jacket, buttoned to her neck. Cream shoes. But Jesus, the way she looked at him. Her gaze was an odachi blade that carved through him. Not that there was much to carve through right now. He was already feeling pretty hollow to begin with.

‘You died in a plane crash,’ he said, unable to look away.

‘That’s what the Fifth Column believe,’ Dr. McLoughlin said. ‘And I’d like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.’

‘Right,’ Jay said. ‘So you want us to let you into the Desecheo Island facility?’

Sophia shook her head. ‘We can manage that just fine.’

Jay laughed. ‘How the hell do you figure that?’

‘We’re hijacking a cargo plane,’ McLoughlin said.

Jay stared at her. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

‘We have an informant inside the Fifth Column who can supply us with the GPS ID of the cargo plane,’ McLoughlin said. ‘We can intercept it en route. We don’t have much time before the encryption destroys itself and the Chimera vector codes along with it. Your objective, once forewarned of our arrival, is to plant this computer virus in the facility’s intranet.’ She handed Jay and Damien a memory stick each. ‘Either one will do. Once you unpack the virus, it will take care of the rest. Then Sophia will find you and give you the identity of our informant. You will locate and bring the informant to a place where Sophia can meet you.’