Icarus and Daedalus

Chapter 3

**Alright, on to chapter 3. Let's get the usual legal disclaimer out of the way. All characters are the property of their respective owners, except original characters, which belong to me. I know it's been awhile since I last published, but I ended up pushing the original chapter back to chapter four, and writing this as chapter 3. The original third chapter featured more of Adam and Faridah, but after careful consideration, I decided that this chapter needed to happen first. Things are about to get interesting, so read on.**

The dark figure stood just outside of a café on one of the innumerable sidewalks in London. Anyone passing by would say that the figure looked extremely suspicious, and they would be correct. If they had any idea of what he was preparing to do, they would run to the police, but fortunately for him, none of the passersby had any knowledge of his intentions that night. After all, London was a huge city, and one suspicious-looking person standing outside in the rain was nothing to get worked up about.

The man wore a large oilcloth coat, leather boots, and gloves. A large hood covered his face and shielded him from the driving thunderstorm that he was standing in. Standing in a thunderstorm was never pleasant, but the weather did have its advantages. It gave him a perfect excuse to completely obscure his face and skin. No one would question him wearing a coat, hood, and gloves in the rain, and if anyone remembered that he had been there, they wouldn't be able to provide a single detail for a description of what he looked like. This was important, given what he was preparing to do. He lit a cigarette and stood quietly smoking on the sidewalk, checking his watch, and waiting for his contact to arrive.

Right on time, a taxicab pulled up to the sidewalk, and a tall, similarly clothed man stepped out carrying a large bag from a local pastry shop. Walking up to the man who was smoking, he offered his greeting, handing over the bag as he did.

-"Nice weather. I'm glad you're standing in it instead of me," said the second man.

-"Whatever," said the first man indifferently. "What do you have for me?"

-"He lives in apartment 313B. Third floor," replied the second man. "You're probably going to want to wait for him to come home and follow him inside. The lock is pretty advanced. I wouldn't trust your chances at breaking in."

-"Good to know," said the first man. "Did our friends set everything up?"

-"Everything's good to go," confirmed the second. "All that you need is in the bag."

The first man looked in the pastry bag that he had been given and saw a 10mm pistol, a loaded magazine, a large silencer, and a set of car keys.

The second man continued, "The gun's clean. No prints, no serial number. The car is at the other side of this alley, just to the left. It's a black Ford."

-"Got it," responded the first man. "I assume it's a rental?"

-"Yeah, Heathrow Airport," replied the second. "Drop it off later tonight when you fly out of here. Need anything else?"

-"No, that should be fine," answered the first man.

-"Glad to hear it," said the second man as he flagged down an approaching taxi.

-"Oh, and Bob?" he said as he entered the cab. "This is your last chance. Don't fuck this up."

Hugh Darrow walked through the front doors of his apartment building, glad to be out of the rain. The weather was doing an excellent job of reflecting his current mood. Dark. Melancholy. Hopeless. He had been in hiding for months, and while he was quite good at not being found, he knew that he was only delaying the inevitable. The Illuminati were not people who ever gave up, and one way or another, if they wanted to find someone, they found him. There were some days where he grew so tired of hiding from his inevitable end that he considered simply delivering himself into the hands of the ones hunting him. At least then it would all be over.

But of course, he never did. That would be too easy. He had done far too much at Panchaea to simply give up, and while his situation was grim, he was not completely alone. He had become connected with a group that was determined to oppose and ultimately dismantle the Illuminati once and for all. While they couldn't protect him forever, they could keep his hunters at bay for a while, and Hugh believed in what they were doing. For that, he would hold out as long as he could and spend every day furthering the cause of his new group.

As Darrow walked across the lobby, he reflected once more, as he often did, about his actions involving Panchea and the mass insanity that he initiated. He was torn, and often had doubts as to whether or not he had done the right thing. On the one hand, the Illuminati were planning on using augmentation technology to literally rule the world, something that Hugh simply couldn't allow. On the other hand, he had personally ensured the deaths of thousands of people with his biochip stunt. Was he really any better than those that he now sought to oppose? He supposed that ultimately, yes, he was.

Perhaps he was an idealist, but he had always felt that the Illuminati's job was to influence and suggest rather than directly control things. Once he had realized that the Illuminati were directly pulling the strings with regards to the augmentation issue, he had decided to stop it. Yes, he had killed thousands of people, but finally, at least with this issue, society was making its own decisions about how it should proceed. So, yes, ultimately, he was better than the Illuminati. Not to mention, he was now involved heavily with a group directly opposing them, trying to right the wrongs that had been committed. Perhaps if he kept telling himself that, he'd be able to get to sleep…

Darrow walked across the lobby towards the stairwell, so absorbed in his own thoughts that he never noticed the dark, hooded figure that walked up silently behind him, following him up the stairs. Halfway up, he sensed a presence behind him and turned around, finding himself facing the muzzle of a pistol and the cold gaze of Bob Page.

-"Hello, Hugh. Let's go to your room."

The two men sat silently in chairs across from each other in the living room of Hugh's apartment. The dwelling was dark, save for a lamp on the coffee table that Hugh turned on and the periodic flashes of lightning that illuminated the room. While he tried hard not to show it, Hugh was terrified. He had known that this day would eventually come, but now that it was here, he wasn't so sure that he was ready to face it. Bob, however, was completely emotionless. He simply sat across from Hugh silently and stone-faced, pointing his pistol squarely at Darrow's heart. Finally, Hugh broke the silence.

-"You don't have to do this," he said. "I'm an enemy of the Illuminati, you are as well. You could let me go, and we can both just walk away."

-"Well, Darrow, that's where you're wrong. I'm not an enemy. Not yet, anyway," said Page.

Darrow's heart sank, his last hope destroyed. "So, you haven't left yet?" he asked.

-"No," replied Page. "I haven't. It's not the opportune time yet. For now, I'm part of the club."

-"Look, Bob, please," said Hugh. "We all know you're sick and tired of this bullshit. Morgan, Lucius, Stanton, all of them. Everyone's known for years, it's no secret. Why not leave now? Just let me go. Hell, come with me. There's already a group set up to oppose the Illuminati."

Bob gave a snort of derision. "What, join your Juggernaut Collective?" he asked. "Yes, I know all about it," he said in response to Hugh's look of surprise. "But my plan involves something else entirely. A group not so different than the Illuminati, but under my control."

-"Bob," said Hugh, almost pleading. "Please. We were close friends. If you let me go, I'll disappear, and you can report back that you killed me. You don't have to do this."

-"Yes, Hugh, we were friends. Past tense," said Page, angry now. "Your little stunt at Panchaea didn't just betray the organization. We all lost people that we cared about, myself included, when half the world's population went crazy. Right now, staying loyal is advantageous to my ultimate goals, and that means that it's time for you to go."

-"Bob…"

-"You should admit your situation," said Page. "There would be more dignity to it."

-"You go to hell," spat Darrow.

-"I'm sure we'll meet each other there one day," said Bob with a slight smirk. "I just want to know one more thing. Why? Why the hell did you do what you did back on that station?"

Hugh sighed. "Because we were violating what was supposed to be a key principle of our order," he replied. "We suggest, we influence, but ultimately, society decides for itself. We don't ever take the reins ourselves. That's the rule I always followed. When our order decided to violate it, I decided to return the choice to the people."

-"Let me ask you something, Hugh," said Page. "If the rule you followed brought you to this, then of what use was the rule?"

-"You know, I must say I'm a little surprised," said Darrow, without answering Page. "I did not expect to see your face right now. I'd have thought that you've advanced beyond wet work."

-"I made a mistake," said Page indifferently. "This is how I'm making up for it. Goodbye, Hugh."

With that, Bob Page raised his silenced pistol, aiming directly at Darrow's forehead. He switched off the lamp, plunging the apartment into darkness, and then waited, silently, for several moments.

-"What are you waiting for?" asked Darrow.

As if in answer to his question, lighting flashed outside, illuminating the entire living room. Almost immediately, a deafening clap of thunder crashed outside as Bob squeezed the trigger.

James McTavisch ran up the street towards The Bull and Bush, an English-style pub set in one of the many streets in Chicago's entertainment district. He was late for a meeting with an associate of his, and this particular associate did not appreciate tardiness. In addition to this, he had just received some news that did not bode well for anyone in his organization, and he was frantic to report it to his superior. James sprinted the last one hundred yards to the pub and practically crashed through the doors in his haste to get inside. Once inside, he began looking around frantically for the man that he was supposed to meet.

-"Over here, bratán, "said a man sitting at a table in the rear of the bar in a heavy Russian accent.

James sat down at the table, breathing heavily. "I g-got here as f-fast as I c-could," he panted.

The first man passed him a large tumbler of water. "Drink this. You look like you're about to pass out," he said.

-"Sorry," said James. "My flight got in late and I wanted to make it here on time. This is bad, Quinn. Really bad."

-"Slow down," said Quinn. "Tell me what's going on."

James slowed down his breathing as well as the pace of his speech and began to speak.

-"I got to London and went to Darrow's apartment like you instructed. To investigate the rumor. When I got there, the police were crawling all over the place. It's true, Quinn. He's dead."

-"You're sure of this?" asked Quinn. "It wasn't a fabrication by the police?"

-"Quinn, I saw his body," said James, slightly disturbed. "He was murdered. Executed."

Quinn sighed. "I had feared as much. Do we know who was responsible?"

-"I didn't at first," said James. "The police weren't volunteering any information, and I didn't want to attract attention. But, I began to investigate. I don't think the police are tampering with evidence. They seem to be doing a legitimate investigation. Not that it will yield any results."

James paused, finishing his glass of water, then continued.

-"Once the police had more or less vacated the crime scene, I went back to Darrow's apartment to look around. I figured that Darrow would have some kind of passive security that might give us information. A recording or something."

Quinn nodded. "It's something he would have picked up from the Illuminati. He was careful. Did you find anything?" he asked.

-"Yes," answered James. "A small microphone concealed inside of a clock. No video, but it picked up his final conversation perfectly."

At this point, James became visibly shaken. Frightened, even. With a slightly shaky voice, he continued.

-"Quinn," he said, "It was Page. Bob Page. He murdered Hugh."

Quinn swore softly in Russian. James continued to speak.

-"It gets worse, Quinn. He knows. About us. He knows."

-"Of course he knows," said Quinn. "The Collective fought the Illuminati a few years ago and was all but wiped out. But as far as they know, it's stayed that way. All that Bob knows is that we used to exist. Our return to action has been quite silent."

-"No," said James. "He knows about us now. He knows that we're active again. The hit on Hugh wasn't just Illuminati retribution for his actions at Panchaea. Page knew that Hugh was involved with us."

Quinn looked as though he had seen a ghost. "How…"

-"I don't know how," said James. "But one way or another, he knows. Quinn…?"

Quinn pressed his fingers to his temples and sighed. "Very well, James. It's begun. Far sooner than we had hoped, but it has begun never the less. You know what to do. Contact Dervish, Crow, Price, Goodman. The old crowd. Tell them that we've been discovered. They'll know what to do."

-"What about you, Quinn?" asked James.

-"I have calls of my own to make," replied Quinn. "I'll be in touch soon. Good luck, bratán."

-"Likewise," said James before rising from the table and walking out of the bar.

Five minutes later, Quinn stood on the rooftop of a medium-rise office building. One hundred feet above street level, he could conduct his next phone call without having to worry about eavesdroppers. The very existence of this man was known to very few people. Although they communicated regularly, Quinn could count on one hand the number of times that he had seen him in person. The call went through, and Quinn spoke first.

-"Janus," he said. "I just spoke with McTavisch. It's true. Darrow is dead, and Page knows about us."

Quinn then related to Janus everything that he had been told by James. Janus's reply was short.

-"I will assume that you have begun notifying the appropriate people. Your next call will be to our friend from the East. After that, lay low. I will contact you soon."

-"Janus," said Quinn, before the call was terminated. "About Detroit: We need to move up our timetable. I fear we no longer have time to do this as slowly as we had planned."

-"Use your best judgment," replied Janus. "But don't waste valuable time pursuing an asset that we aren't even sure about. We can't afford to waste effort that could be better spent elsewhere."

-"It's not a waste," insisted Quinn. "You know as well as I do that if we want a hope of getting through this, we need Adam Jensen."

** And the plot thickens. The father of augmentation is sleeping with the fishes, so to speak, and two shadow organizations are starting to prepare for battle. A few words on Darrow's murder: I am well aware that the speech patterns and behaviour of Hugh and Bob are different than how they are in the game. This was deliberate. My intention was to make them appear more human, rather than simply an influential billionaire and a powerful man who operates in the shadows, respectively. Hugh loses his very refined speech, which is probably to be expected when one is begging for his life. I also tried to just barely hint at Page showing anger towards Hugh regarding Panchaea. It is implied that Hugh's actions hurt him on a personal, emotional level, and that he is acting partly out of anger, as well as carrying out an assigned task.

As for the scene itself, it should remind you strongly of the death of Carson Wells in the film No Country for Old Men, based on Cormac McCarthy's novel of the same name. It is one of my favorite films/books of all time, and I thought that the scene would fit here as well. It was meant as an homage to the Coen brothers and McCarthy, not as a rip-off.

As for the second half, Garvin Quinn is back. After playing The Missing Link DLC, and especially after watching the ending scene, I decided that Quinn had to be an important character in this story. For now, he's just going to be an important character. Don't expect to see him "shipped" with anyone else. If you haven't played the DLC and thus, have no idea who the hell I'm refering to, shame on you. Go buy it now and play it. Trust me, it is WELL worth the price.

McTavisch is an original character who will be making more appearances in the future. Also expect to the see the people that Quinn told McTavisch to call.

I promise, things are starting to pick up. There may be a bit more time spent setting stuff up, but things are about to start moving, and Hell is about to start breaking loose. For those of you wanting to see more Adam/Faridah romance, all in good time.

Until next time, dear readers. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter. Please, please, please take the time to review. The more you review, the faster I publish.**

-Mark Spectre