Page 35
Story: The Mask Falling
“Clear,” I said.
“First, you should know the raison d’être of the Domino Program,” Ducos said. “We are a network of intelligence agents, mostly from the free world, working within the Republic of Scion.”
As I took a seat, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My cheeks and nose were pink. “How long has this network existed?”
“Domino was founded after the end of the Balkan Incursion— Scion’s first use of military force, which claimed five nations in less than two years. Our primary objective is espionage, but we are now authorized to destabilize the republic from within, and to lay the groundwork for future conflict.”
“Are there plans in place for total war with Scion, then?”
“We share information on a need-to-know basis.”
“So I can’t ask how big the network is.”
“All I can say is that we work in pièces, or sub-networks, of two to twelve individuals.”
“And my sub-network is Mannequin,” I said.
“Yes. Mannequin currently has six agents, including the two of us.” She opened her briefcase. “I’m told you have the required skillset for the job and are at least conversationally fluent in French. Je suppose que vous l’avez appris à l’école. Vous n’avez jamais été en France auparavant.”
“Non, mais je parle couramment. C’est ma troisième langue,” I said. “Interrogez mois si vous voulez.”
Ducos fired a few questions at me, each faster and more complex than the last. I answered with ease.
“You speak very well,” she concluded. “A pleasant surprise. As you know, English is compulsory in all territories of the Republic of Scion, but some of our contacts prefer to use French. We must adapt to all situations.” She reached into her briefcase and passed me a tube. Inside was what looked like bunched-up cling film. “This is called a dissimulator, a technology unknown to Scion. You will be unrecognizable while you wear it.”
Scarlett Burnish had worn one when she helped me escape. “Seems more like magic than technology.”
“Welcome to the new decade.” Next was a dropper bottle, full of inky fluid. “This will darken your eyes for an hour. One drop in each eye.”
Two more containers appeared from the briefcase. One held a pistol with a built-in suppressor, the other a fountain pen. Unscrewing the barrel revealed a three-inch blade.
“To be used in a crisis,” Ducos said. “I take it you don’t need a lesson in how to use a gun.”
“I won’t lie,” I said. “I’ve never been a crack shot. I’d be marginally better with a revolver.”
Ducos eyed me with fresh interest. “I can request one,” she said. “I understand you were a gang-affiliated criminal in London. I assume you used a revolver to further your . . . activities.”
“Just to take out the odd kneecap, you know. Nothing fancy.”
I kept a straight face. Without comment, Ducos removed two identical vials from her briefcase.
“This is a stimulant.” The first one she passed me contained a circular white tablet. “And this is a suicide pill.”
After a moment, I accepted the second vial. The capsule inside resembled a tiny bullet.
“Please commit the difference between those pills to memory,” Ducos said. “Should Scion capture you again, bite down hard on the silver pill to break its coating, then swallow. Painless brain death occurs within a minute.”
“Thank you.”
With a nod, Ducos shut the briefcase and dug into her coat pocket.
“Europe stands on the verge of war. The continent is a tinderbox, hungry for a spark.” She took out a steel case and removed a slim white cigarette. “The Domino Program is financed by sixteen free-world nations with concerns about the Republic of Scion. We have gathered enough intelligence to know that Scion aims to keep expanding its empire.”
“You don’t need any special intelligence to know that. Frank Weaver declares it in his motto.”
“The ongoing invasion of the Iberian Peninsula,” Ducos said, as if I hadn’t spoken, “has naturally raised concerns among our financiers that they could be next on the list of targets.”
I remembered the scale of military preparation I had witnessed at the depot in Edinburgh. Just a taste of the force Scion could wield against other countries.
“First, you should know the raison d’être of the Domino Program,” Ducos said. “We are a network of intelligence agents, mostly from the free world, working within the Republic of Scion.”
As I took a seat, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My cheeks and nose were pink. “How long has this network existed?”
“Domino was founded after the end of the Balkan Incursion— Scion’s first use of military force, which claimed five nations in less than two years. Our primary objective is espionage, but we are now authorized to destabilize the republic from within, and to lay the groundwork for future conflict.”
“Are there plans in place for total war with Scion, then?”
“We share information on a need-to-know basis.”
“So I can’t ask how big the network is.”
“All I can say is that we work in pièces, or sub-networks, of two to twelve individuals.”
“And my sub-network is Mannequin,” I said.
“Yes. Mannequin currently has six agents, including the two of us.” She opened her briefcase. “I’m told you have the required skillset for the job and are at least conversationally fluent in French. Je suppose que vous l’avez appris à l’école. Vous n’avez jamais été en France auparavant.”
“Non, mais je parle couramment. C’est ma troisième langue,” I said. “Interrogez mois si vous voulez.”
Ducos fired a few questions at me, each faster and more complex than the last. I answered with ease.
“You speak very well,” she concluded. “A pleasant surprise. As you know, English is compulsory in all territories of the Republic of Scion, but some of our contacts prefer to use French. We must adapt to all situations.” She reached into her briefcase and passed me a tube. Inside was what looked like bunched-up cling film. “This is called a dissimulator, a technology unknown to Scion. You will be unrecognizable while you wear it.”
Scarlett Burnish had worn one when she helped me escape. “Seems more like magic than technology.”
“Welcome to the new decade.” Next was a dropper bottle, full of inky fluid. “This will darken your eyes for an hour. One drop in each eye.”
Two more containers appeared from the briefcase. One held a pistol with a built-in suppressor, the other a fountain pen. Unscrewing the barrel revealed a three-inch blade.
“To be used in a crisis,” Ducos said. “I take it you don’t need a lesson in how to use a gun.”
“I won’t lie,” I said. “I’ve never been a crack shot. I’d be marginally better with a revolver.”
Ducos eyed me with fresh interest. “I can request one,” she said. “I understand you were a gang-affiliated criminal in London. I assume you used a revolver to further your . . . activities.”
“Just to take out the odd kneecap, you know. Nothing fancy.”
I kept a straight face. Without comment, Ducos removed two identical vials from her briefcase.
“This is a stimulant.” The first one she passed me contained a circular white tablet. “And this is a suicide pill.”
After a moment, I accepted the second vial. The capsule inside resembled a tiny bullet.
“Please commit the difference between those pills to memory,” Ducos said. “Should Scion capture you again, bite down hard on the silver pill to break its coating, then swallow. Painless brain death occurs within a minute.”
“Thank you.”
With a nod, Ducos shut the briefcase and dug into her coat pocket.
“Europe stands on the verge of war. The continent is a tinderbox, hungry for a spark.” She took out a steel case and removed a slim white cigarette. “The Domino Program is financed by sixteen free-world nations with concerns about the Republic of Scion. We have gathered enough intelligence to know that Scion aims to keep expanding its empire.”
“You don’t need any special intelligence to know that. Frank Weaver declares it in his motto.”
“The ongoing invasion of the Iberian Peninsula,” Ducos said, as if I hadn’t spoken, “has naturally raised concerns among our financiers that they could be next on the list of targets.”
I remembered the scale of military preparation I had witnessed at the depot in Edinburgh. Just a taste of the force Scion could wield against other countries.
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