Chapter Ten

The aquiline woman eyed the agent evenly, as Irwine's hand brushed a bulge under his jacket, the man's eyes narrowing.

"Madalyuk? Am I supposed to know who that is?" - she asked flatly, trying very hard to remain impassive. But she refused to believe this was a coincidence. Collective's security might have been breached – again.

Hands clasped behind her back, her right one found the knife's hilt again, not telegraphing the motion. Gripping it almost... eagerly, even though her expression didn't change.

The agent offered a brittle smile, eyes briefly flicking over to Irwine, and his hand under the jacket, near a bulge there.

"From your friend's reaction, I would say so." - he said. This made Irwine's face darken, while Yelena's lower lip twitched.

"Careful there, pal. You're about to become a threat to operational security of the Collective." - the man growled, the hand under the jacket slowly closing around the Diamondback's grip.

"I will take that as a confirmation." - the agent's smile faded into a soothing expression.

"But you needn't be concerned. The fact is, Yevgeny Madalyuk and UralPharma profited rather handsomely, from the... shift in governmental attitude, four months ago, from the political fallout following the – incident – in Sankt Peterburg. As such, our analysts predicted a strong possibility that the Collective would approach him with an offer of... conditional assistance, against the entrenched foreign corporate elements in Russia. Probability assessment put it within 75% range, in fact."

"Or... you have a mole inside, privy to our strategic planning. Because this is too coincidental. And I don't believe in coincidences." - Yelena countered bluntly. She wasn't buying it. The knife reappeared, as she took a step towards the agent.

"Who, and where?" - icily. The agent's own eyes narrowed, as he wiped off the trail of blood still seeping from the scratch on his throat.

"Oh please... ! It's an open secret, on the darknet message boards, that the Juggernaut Collective has been looking for an inroad into the Russian government ever since Kontarsky's demise. A disadvantage of such a loosely knit organisational structure as the one the Collective is so fond of, is that individual cells are more prone to intel leaks. All those anarchistic hackers working on their own, without a structured leadership the majority of the time – you have to admit security is difficult to maintain. We don't have an insider – we don't need one! All we needed to do was monitor the darknet activity, and come up with a probability assessment based on it." - he paused.

"Janus's organisation isn't nearly as subtle as you might believe, miss Fedorova. There is a reason we managed to track down your place of current residence, as well as get a package delivered directly to your door, despite the sort of precautions you took. And if we can do it... do you think the cabal will be far behind? With far less benign intentions."

The woman was silent for a moment, regarding him. Her mind flashed back to the mole in the Hole... and how he seemed to have evaded discovery for a long time, not to mention procured Semtex to use to impregnate her replacement limbs. That was quite clearly a massive breach of security. While the Collective had definitely took that blunder seriously, and reworked their screening procedures for new additions... she couldn't come to disagree with the agent's assessment.

And the man wasn't even that good an actor...

She thought.

"Nobody's perfect." - Irwine countered, the man's hand coming back out from under the jacket – empty, "...so why all this song-and-dance with the doctored picture? Why not just contact us directly? Better yet, why not make contact directly with Janus, if we really are supposed to be on the same side?"

At this, the agent shook his head.

"We're not on the same side... we simply have a common enemy."

Yelena raised an eyebrow. She respected directness like that, even if Irwine's scowl remained intact.

"Like I said, from our point of view, neither the Illuminati nor the Collective is the proper way forward. But given recent heavy-handed developments, especially with the official outlawing of civilian enhancement by the UN... the cabal is making progress towards their ultimate goal."

"You didn't answer the question. Why not contact us directly?" - Irwine persisted.

"Security, for one." - the agent put bluntly. "For another, our methodologies differ. Like I pointed out. The Collective is too focused on reactionary activities and short-term disruptions. We are more proactive. Our tactics wouldn't... mesh... well, with Janus'. However, miss Fedorova here is a different matter. Given her background, she understands the value of proactivity and going for a long-term objective. Am I right?" - he tried a smile at her.

For a briefest moment, the corner of Yelena's lips twitched, before her gaze turned cold again.

"Spare me the flattery, mister. You said you had actionable intel. I'm listening."

"Very well. First of all, we have observed Madalyuk meeting with Tai Yong representatives five months ago. UralPharma was already under pressure to sell a governing share of it's stocks, until events in Sankt Peterburg put a stop to that."

"How, exactly? Did he just have a sudden change of heart? Patriot or no, that seems far-fetched." - Irwine put in, suspiciously.

"Far from it. Being a prominent figure in Russian right-wing political scene, he was... influenced... by his party members to set a proper example, and capitalise on public opinion on the incident." - the agent explained.

Once more, Yelena felt a surge of pride, at the notion. Out of place or not, arrogant or not... her impromptu decision to shift the responsibility to the Russian government, sent far-reaching ripples.

Out loud however, she simply nodded.

"The Collective knows that much already. Hence their... our... interest in acquiring his allegiance."

"What you don't know, is that the company's board of directors don't share his political 'change of heart' – as you succinctly put." - the agent nodded in Irwine's direction.

"They all stood to gain quite a bit, financially, from the merger, and are not happy with Madalyuk's decision to sever ties. Radically so. They're planning an internal takeover, likely to coincide with Madalyuk's meeting with Collective representatives. Given the kind of connections they're cultivating with Tai Yong and it's covert assets, it's safe to assume Madalyuk's life will also be on the line."

Yelena pursed her lips.

"Do you have names of these directors? Ideally with their places of residence." - her eyes flashed.

"Hold on a minute! We only have this guy's word on it... we need concrete proof before we start murdering people." - Irwine glared at her.

Yelena shook her head, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"I didn't mean for the purpose of neutralising them. I'm not – that – person anymore. Not unless we get proof. But where better to get it then at the source?" - she asked.

Irwine nodded, reluctantly. Seeing his uncertainty, the woman added...

"And no, I'm notjust taking his word." - glancing at the agent, eyes hardening.

"But you cannot ignore the possibility, either. If Madalyuk is ousted, dead or not... UralPharma will fall to Tai Yong, and by extension, the cabal. Its influence in Russia will increase proportionally. You know it, and we know it." - the lanky middle-aged man pointed out emphatically, reaching – slowly - into his coat's inner pocket, to pull out a pocket secretary, offering it to the woman.

"This contains the details on three of the four directors on the board. The fourth one proved more difficult to locate. We believe he may be the one coordinating directly with cabal operatives, and as such, is afflicted by a corresponding amount of paranoia. Perhaps investigating the other three, will point you in the right direction."

"Why not just ask them directly? Maybe posing as journalists or something." - Irwine growled, still unconvinced.

"No. We cannot risk tipping them off." - Yelena shook her head, taking the device and studying it intently. Then she looked back at the agent.

"You do realise I will inform the Collective of this intel? And who you work for? This... Majestic Twelve."

The man shrugged, still rubbing his throat.

"Of course. I imagine many questions will be brought up about the legitimacy of this information, and our possible ulterior motives. Just as I imagine the entire Collective will try to corroborate this from their own sources before issuing you your marching orders. Act on it as you see fit, it is offered as a gesture of goodwill, from my employers. No price attached, in other words." - he glanced at Irwine, answering the other man's question from before.

"Except leading us by the nose..." - the younger man muttered under his breath, too softly for the agent to hear. Yelena, with her cochlear implants, picked it up.

"We will see how useful this is. Now tell me why am I really here." - the woman spoke, handing the device over to Irwine for safekeeping.

The agent nodded.

"Your family, and the ones who gave Namir the execution order, eight years ago. Taggart would be the obvious link to investigate, as I pointed out, but I expect that's not your question." - he picked his words carefully.

He was under specific orders not to give her a clear trail to follow. Going after DeBeers directly would carry too much risk of being traced back to Page himself.

"You want a concrete trail. For that, you need to go to New York, and find a man named Volkard Rand. He was once on the Council, until he fell out of favour during one of their many instances of infighting. Currently in charge of a local subsidiary of VersaLife. Eight years ago, he was reputedly one of the masterminds behind the Triaxis initiative."

"What's that?" - Irwine asked, while Yelena's eyes narrowed in recognition.

"My early training and conditioning was conducted, in a place called Triaxis. I don't... remember... anything more then that. Just flashes... a white room... suspension tanks... and so much pain. That is where I was – built. Over the months before my certification for duty. You remember how I told you the cybernetics were a part of the training..." - her tone soft, as she frowned hard, trying to recall more.

Irwine nodded, while the agent continued,

"We know that the site itself is somewhere in central Europe. No location however. Rand would know, of course. Unless he himself had also been the recipient of memory doctoring, once he was expelled from the inner Council. But it is the best lead we can offer for the moment. Chances are of course, that he doesn't know anything. The very fact he was simply expelled, and not neutralised, would seem to support that." - playing a very careful game of giving some information, but never the entire picture.

Such a subtle game we play...

The man thought, carefully schooling his face into a study of neutral attentiveness, as he regarded the woman in front of him. He was briefed on what kind of enhancements she was equipped with, which included CASIE implants, that would see through any overt attempt at misdirection. He could see it behind her eyes – the subtle, telltale, artificial-looking motions of her retinae, that indicated every word he said was being ran through a dense sieve of analysis subroutines by the CASIE implant in her brain. It took all of his dissembling ability and emotional discipline, to keep one step ahead of her seeing through the act.

But just as she was an expert in her line of work... he was an expert liar and dissembler, and was trained to fool pheromone-readout and polygraph-based scrutiny. And while he didn't look enhanced, he was in fact equipped with the very latest in social-enhancement technology, which likely surpassed her own CASIE unit by a significant margin of sophistication. There was a reason he was selected for this assignment, and his expertise and long years of experience, at convincing people, was a big part of it.

There was a purpose behind the deception, of course. Volkard Rand was one of DeBeers's closest confidants, and unlike what the agent just told Yelena, the man was very much not expelled from the Council. He was an active member. Him being compromised would be a significant blow to DeBeers and his plans, while at the same time not really attacking him directly. Bob Page was more interested in eroding his enemy's power base, first.

"I'll find him. And he will tell me everything he knows. Everything. And if it turns out he was involved with what was done to me and my family... he will die slowly." - Yelena finally spoke, her measured tone in sharp contrast with the statement.

The agent shrugged, as in 'up to you'. Inwardly, however, he smiled to himself.

Mission accomplished.


An hour later...

"Tell me you're not buying what that guy was selling?" - Irwine murmured, as Yelena was going through the things in her grandmother's basement.

They were alone once more.

He scowled hard, going over the information on the pocket secretary the agent left them. While it – looked – like solid intel on the schism within UralPharma's leadership... he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all just too – convenient. He didn't trust that guy. Not for any tangible reason, just... something about him didn't sit right with Irwine.

"I'm not buying what anyone is selling, Irw. Except you." - she glanced back at him with a smile.

"We will relay the intel on UralPharma and it's board of directors, to Janus and Quinn. This is one of those... 'big brains at base to figure out' moments. And the Collective likely has the resources needed to corroborate the information. Not to mention look deeper into what this... Majestic 12 is. With any luck..." - her eyes flashed.

"...it will delay the meeting with Madalyuk, while the man takes steps to clean his own house, giving me more time to... take a trip to New York. And find mister Rand." - softly.

"You don't expect an ex-Illuminatus to be that easy to find, though?" - the man pointed out dubiously.

"I have a good place to start. VersaLife New York."

"IF what that guy said was true, and he wasn't just feeding you a line." - Irwine countered.

The woman steepled her fingers, as she leaned on the mouldy wall, considering. Her dark eyes sparkling with mixing emotions.

"They went through a lot of effort to find and meet me. Using a very personal enticement. I am not blind, Irw. I know when I'm being headhunted. They want me to work for them, and they are providing information about what I want, as advance payment. That alone makes me inclined to believe the intel is accurate."

"And maybe they got their own interest in getting rid of that Volkert guy. Ever thought of that?"

She smirked.

"Of course they do! Nobody just provides that kind of intel out of the kindness of their heart. One thing I have no doubt of, is what he said that we have a common enemy. The information he gave us is proof enough of that. Even if not accurate, it will be very useful to the Collective, to consider altering their security procedures and make it more difficult for the cabal to infiltrate. You heard what he said about Darknet message boards? That will make Couture and her staff lose some sleep while they try to plug the leaks and devise new firewalls." - she paused.

Pulling out an old trunk from behind all the stored furniture and ancient-looking framed paintings, Yelena examined the rusted-out lock on it.

"But he has a point. The Collective's security leaves something to be desired. That mole was just a manifestation of that. I do not think Janus and Quinn fully understand the level of subtlety the cabal can use, to get inside." - she murmured, as she tried to pick the lock.

"What's in there?" - the man leaned over to take a look.

"Lost years." - she replied tightly, losing patience with the rusted out lock, with a grimace. With a sharp whack of a pistol-butt on the lid, the thing literally splintered-off, given how rusty it was.

She lifted the lid, exposing the contents of the trunk. A delicate silken, hand-made, laced ballet dress, a filligreed tiara, and a pair of richly-patterned ballet shoes.

"She made this for me... on my fifteenth birthday." - the woman's tone was reverent. She traced a gentle hand over the finely-wrought fabric, eyes sparkling with rekindled memories.

"It's beautiful." - he hugged her from behind, supportively.

Pulling the dress out gently, Yelena pressed it tightly to her chest. For a long moment, she was silent, stirring softly under his touch.

"Irw... what I... what I said to you... outside... and upstairs..." - she choked off, shuddering.

"Water under a bridge, love." - he reassured her, but she tensed, gripping his hand tightly.

"No... no! Why... why do you put up with me?! I am... I am so damaged... you deserve so mu-" - but he shushed her adamantly.

"Sssshhhhh. There's nothing you can say or do, that'll change the way I feel about you! Nothing! Do you understand? I love you. I love you more then I've ever imagined I could love someone. As you are. I know there's a part of you that wants to push me away. I know there's another part that needs me. And all the other shades in between. I don't care." - he kissed her.

"Sometimes I do not know what I want... feels like I'm shattered into a milion pieces. A million urges. A milion memories. I love you, Irw. But... but that switch in my head... I- I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll hurt you. I'm afraid of that part of me that wants to push you away. That... that is broken beyond repair." - she whispered, still caressing the delicate dress in her hands.

This time, Irwine tensed.

"NOT beyond repair! Yelena, look at me." - he demanded. She turned her head partway around to meet his gaze – her eyes sparkling with tears. He cupped her cheek in his hand.

"I will never accept that. I. Will. Never. Accept. That. And no matter how many pieces there are to the puzzle, we'll put 'em back together. We'll put you back together! You're the strongest person I've ever met, to keep going after all the shit you went through! People would've snapped... I would've snapped! You are NOT broken. It'll take time, but I'm here. And I ain't going anywhere. Ever. I'm always here for you."

"Irw... I don't deserve you." - she lowered her gaze, but he persisted.

"I'll be the judge of that. These past few months... I've watched you change. I've watched you start to live. Hell, last night on the train... I've seen you become – someone else, with that kid! Or back in Panama, or our movie-nights back home! You've got it in you to let go of the past! The thing is... this job. What we do, what we're required to do..." - he paused, biting his lip.

"I think it just loops you back onto what you were. A reminder. Looking back now... I shouldn't have brought you in, I shouldn't have made my sales-pitch, that night. We should've both got out, out of it all, and made a life for ourselves somewhere. Somewhere away from this... this... this invisible war, this-" - before she gently cut him off, squeezing his hand at her cheek.

"That isn't how it works. You must realise that by now... you don't walk away from it. It is not something one can walk away from. Or get out, or... forget it's there. Let me tell you what would have happened if you did not recruit me, into the Collective. If you never found me, if we never met... They would've found me eventually, and used the kill-phrase. I like to think I would've made them pay in blood before they ended me, but the fact is, all it would take, was those two words. Black Mantis. I would have died, useless, a defective piece of technology they disposed of. Looking back now, to my hiding there in that rat-infested shithole of an apartment..." - she took a deep breath.

"I was not biding my time. I was not... plotting revenge. I was waiting to die. Because with the kill-phrase protocol active, there was nothing I could have done. NOTHING. I was living in denial, doing dirty-work for the mob, the only thing I know how to do. And in the end I would have died there, when they finally found me."

"The Collective SAVED me, Irwine! You SAVED me, by offering me the opportunity! I owe them my life, and the second chance I got. And I owe you the same, by extension. I don't regret for a single moment, saying yes that night. I'm more free now, then I was for the past nine years. Even if I could... I wouldn't get out now. I owe them. I owe them everything, for what they did for me. You know, that first day, I asked Quinn, what's to stop me from just running off, if they disabled the kill-protocol? Back then I almost... meant it. Now I feel ashamed for even thinking that! For the first time ever, I'm working with people who DESERVE my loyalty! Yes, they are not perfect, yes they... may be in over their head, but... I owe it to them, to help them fight this war. Any way I can." - adamantly.

"But what about you, Yelena? When's it gonna be your turn, to heal?" - the man sighed. It was a rhetorical question, since... he could't disagree with her take on it. No matter how much he wanted to.

And given the fact he was now very much in it, with her. Disassociated from his former life.

She didn't answer, briefly caressing his face, before she slowly rose from the trunk.

"I will take these with me. And a few other items I have seen... then we must go. There's nothing else here for me, but ghosts and memories. Some should be cherished... but life goes on. And we have a job to do." - she wiped her eyes, collecting all the contents of the trunk, and putting it in her backpack.

The pistol disappeared under her jacket once more.

"What about Volkert? You gonna put that on the backburner after all?" - Irwine frowned.

"We have an assignment. And were just provided potentially critical intel that must be factored in, before the meeting. The Collective needs to be informed. My personal... quest... can wait. It has waited this long. I will not shirk my duty for it." - her tone turning fully detached and professional.

"But that does not mean I trust the source. Remember half an hour ago, when you were helping him bandange his neck..." - she winked at him.

"...I sneaked out and put a tracking device into his car."

The man laughed.

"For a while there I thought you started trusting people at the worst moment! Glad to see I'm wrong..."

"You know me better then that! Like I said I'm not buying what anyone is selling. But he needed to maintain his... perception... of me. Someone tunnel-visioned on revenge at the exclusion of much else. I want him to believe I will just rush to New York in search of mister Volkert. And I will... But not yet. Not until I confer with Janus on that issue, as well. Maybe have Couture try to dig up something concrete... And not until the Madalyuk assignment is finished. Assuming it does not get delayed... then my schedule might change."

"As for our new... friend. I want you to follow him. You have much more freedom of movement in public, then me. Here's a receiver for the tracking device... it is tuned to our private Infolink channel, and will interface with your phone, to point out his location on a GLONASS map. Do not get too close... if I could sense his Infolink signature, he will sense the receiver, and an active signal if you get close enough. Right now..." - she frowned, then consulted her own phone...

"He is still en-route back to Tblisi. A twenty minute head-start, if you leave right now. Easy enough to catch up on the highway, long before he gets there. Remember to shut off the tracker before you get close enough to track his vehicle visually."

The man nodded, taking the device and pulling out his own phone. He nodded again, as the map came up.

"Right... and once he's on foot?" - already heading upstairs, out of the house, and to the car, Yelena falling in step next to him.

"Follow him, unnoticed, and report on what he does. The fact he is returning to Tblisi suggests he must have a contact there."

"Maybe he just wants to catch the next plane out-country?" - Irwine suggested.

She shrugged.

"Maybe. But he could have done that in Batumi. The city has an airport... unless there are no flights there, to where he wants to go. Still in that case I want to know, to where. Then we might be able to have someone at the destination-end, to pick up the trail."

"What about you? You gonna come with me?" - he asked.

"Drop me off in Batumi. I will catch a plane of my own, back to Sankt Peterburg. I want an encrypted line back at our penthouse, before I make my report to Quinn. I will not do that out here."

"Uhh... you think they'll just let you board the plane without inspection? You know what happened back at the train station in Peterburg, I imagine an airport check will be that much worse..." - he objected.

"Not if they do not know I'm a passenger. Benefit of being a ghost..." - she smirked, briefly cloaking in-and-out of existence, for emphasis, at which he had to roll his eyes with a chuckle.

"You and your free rides... still. Be careful."

"You too. Remember – keep your distance. And shut off the tracker when you get close enough. I have programmed it to beep at you when you are about to enter the possible detection radius."

With a nod, he started up the car, while she went back inside, looking for a few other items she planned to take with her. Including a picture she was hoping to find – an undoctored version of the one she received in that package. As remembered – she was there in the frame. A little girl, with a plump smile.

Finally, back outside, she turned. Casting one last, longing look at her grandmother's home, Yelena said silent goodbyes to that part of her past, before stepping into the car herself.

Memories should be cherished. But not at the expense of the present. Still, the woman was glad she came... and had a chance to reclaim a small part of her childhood.

The car shuffled down the dirt path, awash in moonlight.