“You really have no idea what’s going on, do you? You’re like Merritt was. A true believer. You should have listened to Jon Ross: never trust a government.”
He noticed the momentary look of shock on her face. “You did know The Major was spying on you, right? Tapping into his surveillance system was what gave me access to everything on your task force. Including your private conversations with the illustrious Mr. Ross.”
Philips felt doubly defeated and stood grasping for something to say.
“I have video from every camera at Building Twenty-Nine before it was destroyed.” He paused. “By the way, you and Jon Ross should just have fucked and gotten it over with.”
Philips couldn’t help a pang of loss at the mention of Ross’s name. Not an hour passed when she didn’t think about him—and how he’d saved her life. She recalled their last moment together. Then she purposely met Loki’s gaze. “Get to the point.”
“Have I upset you? I didn’t think you’d go for the criminal type, Doctor.”
“Jon Ross is dead.”
“So I hear.” Loki slipped a hand into his jacket. “You might find some of my surveillance video interesting.” He withdrew a metallic scroll and offered it to Philips.
She hesitated.
“If I came here to kill you, Doctor, I wouldn’t waste time talking first. Just open it.”
She took the metallic scroll and pulled the twin tubes apart to reveal a glossy, flexible video screen already glowing with electrical energy.
“You don’t understand the Daemon. You keep thinking it’s something we obey like automatons. But that’s not it at all. The Daemon’s darknet is just a reflection of the people in it. It’s a new social order. One that’s immune to bullshit.”
She held the flexible screen up as it began to play security camera video from within Building Twenty-Nine—just before the entire place was obliterated by a massive demolition charge. The scene showed Philips, Ross, a man known only as “The Major,” and several black-clad Korr security guards, standing near body bags in the gaming pit. The Major was officially the Daemon Task Force’s Department of Defense liaison—although, he’d also been connected with the Special Collections Service, a section of the CIA. At present, neither organization acknowledged his existence and his identity remained classified, even to her.
On-screen The Major was aiming a Glock 9mm pistol at Philips’s face. Jon Ross rushed to stand between them.
She felt torn at the sight of Ross’s handsome face. Seeing him stand in harm’s way for her.
In the real world Loki waved a gloved hand and froze the image. He pointed at The Major. “You remember this asshole?”
She nodded.
Loki pulled at the air with his gloved hand and the image zoomed in. The quasi-DOD liaison officer wore a tan sports jacket with a dark green button-down shirt. “A great many people have not forgotten him.”
Another wave of his hand and the image switched to a high-def video of a mortally wounded Roy Merritt lying in the middle of an industrial street. Blood covered Roy’s torso. He was panting and staring at two small photographs in his hand. A flash appeared in the doorway of a helicopter in the distance, and Merritt’s head exploded.
Philips recoiled in horror. Remorse flooded over her again. She glared at Loki with hatred. “This is what you wanted me to see? Do you find some twisted enjoyment in this?”
“It’s car camera video from my AutoM8. The cameras are part of the navigation system. I uploaded these videos to the darknet, and the crowd soon found the answer.” He pulled at the air with his black gloves, and the video screen in Philips’s hands zoomed in on the shooter in the helicopter doorway. The HD image looked grainy at this magnification, but the hooded figure in the doorway was clear enough. The shooter was wearing a tan sports jacket and a dark green button-down shirt. Loki waved his hand again and the screen split in two, with the earlier image of The Major holding a pistol to Philips’s head alongside the image of the shooter in the doorway of the helicopter. They were dressed identically. They were the same person.
Philips lowered the flexible screen and stared into space. “The Major.”
“Yes, The Major. Didn’t you wonder why no second helicopter arrived to pick you up? You’re not supposed to be alive, Doctor.”
She nodded absently. “They don’t want to stop the Daemon. They want to control it.”
“Which makes you pretty much the only person still trying to stop it. Your own side doesn’t want you to succeed.” He nodded toward Merritt’s casket. “And they didn’t want Roy triggering economic Armageddon before they could shift their investments.”
“The Major . . . killed Roy. . . .” She could barely get the words out.
“And they’ll finish you yet.” He pulled the screen out of her hands. “I’d watch your back, if I were you.”
She looked up suddenly. “Why are you telling me this, Loki?”
“Where is The Major?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find out.”
“He’s my problem, not yours.”
Loki tucked the scroll-screen back into his coat. “That’s where you’re wrong. The Major is everyone’s problem.”
Philips gestured to the operatives moving among the mourners. “Is that why they’re here?”
“Like I said, they’re not with me. Although, a million darknet operatives want vengeance for the Burning Man. I’m guessing they’ll tear apart heaven and earth to get it. There’s a high-priority Thread queued just for The Major. We have his biometric data from Building Twenty-Nine’s security system to help. His fingerprints. His iris scan. His voice. His face. His walk. We will find him, Doctor. But if you help me, I’ll see that you’re treated with leniency.”
She knew he was mocking her now. “I want nothing to do with you. We have laws in this country, and I intend to make sure The Major faces justice and that you face justice.”
“Justice? That’ll be difficult when you might be facing disciplinary charges yourself.”
Philips felt the rage building again. She didn’t know whether he was guessing or actually knew. The disaster at Building Twenty-Nine had indeed been laid at her feet. The Major wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the after-action reports. It was as if he never existed.
Loki turned back toward the funeral service. “If you find The Major, let me know, and the swarm will take care of him.”
“You know I won’t do that.”
“You might be surprised what you’ll do. Especially when you discover what they’ve done with your laws.” Loki narrowed his eyes at something in the distance.
Philips followed his gaze toward the edge of the funeral crowd.
A scuffle of some sort had broken out there. She could see at least one person being grabbed by plainclothes officers about half a football field away.
Loki watched with his shimmering eyes. “They never disappoint, do they? Leave while you can, Doctor.”
“Loki, don’t. There are hundreds of innocent people here.”
He ignored her, already manipulating unseen darknet objects with his gloved hands. “They just couldn’t resist. . . .”
She stood between Loki and the distant scuffle. “This will be a bloodbath. Please, Loki. Don’t do this!”
He spoke while looking through her; his hands moved frantically. “Did you know your friend, Jon Ross, joined the Daemon’s darknet recently, Doctor? I thought you might want to know.”
She stopped—unsure whether to believe him. The news hit her hard. She backed away from Loki and tried to contain her emotions. First she lost Merritt, now Ross, and now she felt she could trust no one. She felt the tears coming again. Not Jon.