Snippet #2454724

ISI-DW Sub-room

Reginald's fingers began flying across the keyboard at breakneck speed. The chat rooms were abuzz with speculation. Someone named Theo1 had fucked up big time on the game code release. Reginald thought it stunk like a set up. He booted up his masked system and logged in as Darkstar. He began to type using one hand each on two different keyboards, concurrently chatting and hacking. MarkIII began pursuing leads on who Theo1 was and who he may have been working with while Darkstar began to methodically pick apart the code hidden in the game system.

Answer began to appear after about a half hour of solid typing. MarkIII had divined less than he had hoped. Noone knew who Theo1 was in realspace and noone had a good grasp on who he was working with. The general speculation was that the ISI had already nabbed everyone involved. It amused Reginald to know that this was patently not true, though it amused him more that the organization he worked for carried such an efficient and ruthless reputation.

Darkstar's exploration was far more fruitful. He had extrapolated an Ardent hash from the code, which would need to be cracked in order to reveal what the input strings were. The hash was a hundred thousand characters long, and would likely take the better part of the day to crack. Reginald steeled himself to work through the night if necessary.

ISI Command

Denicela kept reviewing compiled reports of the Theo1, LondonsFog and MasterCodec situations. Developments were occurring smoothly. Deberov reported a successful capture of their target with no collateral damage, other than a few frightened bystanders. Reginald was working on locating Theo1 and his accomplices. She sighed at the lack of reports for the search for LondonsFog. The overarching problem became more and more apparent as she read on.

THere had been a military style strike on NetCom Securities, and a primary server slate had been stolen. Several guards had been killed and the security had been back hacked. The compant was responsible for military grade net barrier systems development and they had a huge hand in cybersecurity contracts with the NAU. Their physical security was supposed to be very good, and yet, they had been overcome. There were no images of the assailant, but the comabt had been bloody and one-sided from the reports. If the server slate that had been tolen carried sensitive development data or information garnered from systems that NetCom programs lived on then this could become a major problem. She had sent an investigator to examine the scene and see if he could connect it to any major group.

The tagging of the game-code had been a priority leak and she was curious as to what it contained. If it was related at all to the attack on NetCom then there was a much larger problem that had to be tackled.

The real problem was, in a word, why? Why these events, in this order, at this time? How were they related? Were they related? She felt more in the dark than usual. Someone was orchestrating things masterfully and until she had a better picture it was incredibly difficult to see the bigger picture. Her sense was that they were moving towards a major event both in real and in netspace. Her forces were marshalled to respond, both digital and conventional. It was the best she could do with the information she had.

The question nagged at her, what was the purpose of all this?

Deus Ferrum Monastery, Roma

Templar forces were marshaling for a large offensive. The Monastery, with its immense subterranean facilities were the perfect place to hide large bodies of troops. By an objective estimation the number of Templars that could be put into the field was small, perhaps a few thousand. This was offset by their quality. Utterly loyal, fanatical in purpose, well-trained and well-equipped, the Templars could match nearly any other fighting force in the world pound-for-pound. They often prevailed despite being heavily outnumbered and outgunned.

The men and women who made up the Templars spent their entire lives moving from monastery to monastery, training, praying and studying. The Deus Ferrum took great pains to keep their combat capable forces well hidden from the public. Little record of their existence was kept and the costs of keeping a body of armed soldiers was carefully dispersed among the operating budgets of the many temples, churches and abbeys across the planet. Few members of regular society even knew that the Deus Ferrum maintained more than a modest security force, though government workers in intelligence and counter-terrorism were well aware of the cult's militant leanings. Despite this no legal actions had ever stuck against the Deus Ferrum, as evidence was always carefully hidden.

Another carefulyl hidden fact was that while the Templars were the most numerous of the Deus Ferrum's forces they were actually the least powerful. Brother Able and Sister Cain knew of the darker, more dangerous instruments of the divine the Brotherhood had access to. Brother Able's little girl was one.

She was not the pinnacle of their military prowess but she was close. Brother Able never referred to her as anything other than affectionate "my child's" and "my dear's," but she did have names. Most often her call-sign was Daughter, but she also went by Sister Hale to the public (though she never had much interaction beyond what was absolutely necessary with those not already in the thrall of the Brotherhood). Then of course there were the various false names she used when she had to travel without direct Deus Ferrum supplied support. She liked to think of herself as the tool of the great deity, the right hand of judgement upon those who did not believe. Her Father would hand down her targets for judgement and she would enact it. When she was dealing out divine justice is when she felt most alive.

And today she would be allowed to deal more justie out to the deserving. Brother Able had passed on a new target. A man named Lan had to be eliminated. He was a wrench in the grand scheme, he had served his purpose but had foolishly stumbled into the path of one of the Brotherhood's great enemies, the ISI. They could not be allowed to extract information from him, and it was her great honor to silence his blaspheming tongue.

En route to Swiss ISI Safehouse

Deberov pulled the black hood off of Lan's head as soon as they reached a high enough cruising altitude that he was confident Lan could not discern their location or direction of travel. He had blacked out all the windows of the dropship. Lan had been strapped into one the harness seats, his hands cuffed in front of him. Deberov stood in front of him, his height imposing, almost impossibly tall in the small troop section of the ship.

"You have really pissed someone off MasterCodec. Perhaps you should tell us who? I wish to know why my team has been sent out here to pick up one small man from Switzerland, when we all could have been drinking and sleeping with our wives, girlfriends or in the Sergeants case his dog?"

There was a smattering of good-natured laughter at Deberov's sidelong jibe. The mood among the team was light at the moment, they had quite successfully extracted the target without being forced to hurt anyone. It was a masterfully executed grab, and they prided themselves on their efficiency. Deberove stared down at the silent Lan, "Well?"