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Chapter Thirty-Two

Showdown

After the final round of betting when all the active players turn over their cards to see who won.

*

The only one at NATO's Brussels headquarters who was not surprised at the sudden appearance of twenty-six rogue agents was the Supreme Allied Commander: Europe. When General Ralston was informed that the agents from Bonn had appeared out of nowhere with three pocket nukes, he went to meet them. He was impressed at the way they adhered to the story the Major had laid out all those months ago, not varying in the slightest detail.

Agent A had taken the lead, presenting the devices and asking when they could expect to be debriefed. Every member of the Alphabet played the part of agent returning from a mission letter perfect, as it were. When asked why the Major had not accompanied them, A replied that it was his understanding that the Major had been ordered to deliver other, more sensitive information to NATO's Commander: Atlantic in Norfolk, Virginia. He went on to hand the General a large envelope, stating that the Major had giving orders that it be given only to General Ralston himself. A went on to say that the Major would be checking in when he arrived in Virginia.

This was all Ralston needed to hear. He allowed the agents to go on with their debriefing, returning to his office where he immediately had a secured call put in to Admiral Edmund Giambastiani, the Supreme Allied Commander: Atlantic in Norfolk, Virginia.

A brief conversation followed, in which Ralston informed his counterpart of the ultra secret Black Ops begun in June and that he should expect a call from Iron Klaus at any moment. He passed on the code phrase that the Major would use in order to identify himself. Then he rang off, sat back in his chair, finally looking at the contents of the envelope, his eye widening as he read the Major's report. Suddenly he found himself wishing he were a fly on the wall when the Major delivered this information in person.

* * *

Several hours after receiving the call from the wayward Iron Klaus, Admiral Giambastiani was in the office of CIA Director George Tenet with a gentleman who had been introduced to him as Agent John Marshall. When everyone was settled, Director Tomlinson was called to the meeting.

Tomlinson was taken aback when he took in the occupants of the room. He collected himself quickly as he realized what must be going on. "Does this mean that the uncatchable Iron Klaus is actually in custody? Good work, Marshall."

"Sit down and shut up, Greg," the CIA Director snapped.

Tomlinson gave him a bewildered look and did as ordered.

The Director pushed a button on his intercom. "Have the Major come in, please."

All eyes turned as the Major, in full dress uniform, came through the door. He marched up to the desk, snapped to attention, and saluted Admiral Giambastiani. Dorian wasn't sure if this was protocol or strictly a show of respect. Either way, he found himself admiring the man all the more. Klaus could be damned impressive when he wanted to be.

"Please, Major," the Admiral said after returning the salute. He took a seat beside Director Tenet's desk. "General Ralston tells me that I'll find what you have to say of particular interest."

"I think we all will," Director Tenet rejoined.

Klaus shot Dorian a sideways glance, seeing him sitting bolt upright in his chair. He was paler than normal, and was doing his utmost to appear professional instead of his usual, outrageous self. Klaus drew a deep breath and moved to the equipment already prepared for him.

"Sirs, because the roots of all this begin long before either of you held your current positions, I will begin with some history," he said calmly. He threw a cold look in Tomlinson's direction and was pleased when the man flinched. He dropped into his impersonation of the Earl's voice, saying, "Feel free to jump in if I make any mistakes, Greg."

Tomlinson's response was a dark look.

Klaus turned back to the others, giving a brief history of Project: Eroica. Its inception in the early 1970s, the delays during Watergate, the threat of cancellation, and finally the go-ahead. Then came the search for a suitable member of the British aristocracy, an American actor to replace him, the months of training afterward.

The image of a newspaper headline flashed up on a large screen across the room that was part of the PowerPoint presentation John Paul and A had prepared. "In late 1976, Eroica made his first grand appearance." Klaus's voice dropped into a disapproving growl. "He appeared at my house the following year and not long after that was interfering in the mission I was on."

Dorian cracked a small smile upon hearing this.

"The original purpose of the project was to have Eroica insinuate himself into NATO as an art thief and finally allow himself to be recruited."

This took the Admiral by surprise. "What?"

Klaus turned to him. "Project: Eroica was a joint CIA-NATO operation." He paused. "At least, it was originally." He turned back to the screen. "Then in 1979, Eroica...assisted in the removal of a bomb from the house where an East-West summit was taking place." He paused again when his audience gave a sharp gasp. Yes, that was him, the bloody show off. "A few months later, he passed along information that stopped an attempt on the life of NATO Europe's Commander General Alexander Haig by the Baader-Meinhof Group." And he had to bring it to me because they were West German, bloody idiot. "It was at that time the plan was altered, leaving Eroica freelance. By the end of that year, he was hired outright by NATO having been ordered--"

When Klaus broke off, his audience exchanged glances.

"Having been ordered..." Dorian prompted, although he already knew the answer.

"To get close to me," Klaus growled out. He took a sip of water before pressing on, telling of Eroica's numerous appearances during his missions and then of his eventual breakdown that caused NATO to order the project terminated.

Again, this got the Admiral's attention. "Terminated?" he said sharply, throwing a look at the now sweating Tomlinson. "When was this, Major?"

"Late 1988, sir."

The Admiral threw an accusing look in Dorian's direction. "Why did you continue?"

Klaus interceded immediately, pointing at Tomlinson. "Because his superior never informed him of the order." He drew a deep breath. "That's where history takes an odd turn."

Odd is right, Dorian thought, giving way to an involuntary shudder.

Klaus went on to tell of Eroica's journey to the U.S. to be seen by Dr. Schreckengost. How he was told to take of a leave of absence that ended up stretching into several years. Despite its not being in the records, Klaus speculated that the reason for this lengthy absence was to wait until those in command at the CIA and NATO--and who knew of the project--were replaced. With the project on hold, there would be no reason to inform their replacements about it. They would therefore not question its continuance.

"In fact, there were two changes in command of the CIA and NATO before Eroica returned to the world of counter-espionage," Klaus went on. "Now suddenly, seven years later, the project actually is being called to a halt. Eroica was ordered to steal what he was told would be the final piece to a puzzle that had taken more than twenty-five years to put together. He broke cover..." His voice dropped. "And all hell broke loose."

Klaus paused as the Director and the Admiral put their heads together for a few minutes. He threw a quick glance in Dorian's directions, seeing he still had not relaxed.

"Thank you, Major..." the Admiral began, returning Klaus to reality.

Klaus was not about to be dismissed and held up a hand. "With all due respect, sir. That's not everything."

The Admiral's eyebrows went up. "Oh?"

"No, sir. That was just a brief history." Klaus turned back to the screen. "This is the part where it gets totally fucked up." Before his audience could object to his use of the expletive, one of the autopsy photos flashed up on the screen.

"On the 26th of November, 1975, John Marshall and the Earl of Gloria were involved in an automobile accident caused by a drunk driver. One man was killed, the other seriously injured." Klaus turned to Tomlinson, his voice accusing. "Project: Eroica should've ended then. But after putting so much time and effort into it, you couldn't let it go, could you?"

"Where the hell did you get that?" Tomlinson demanded, finding his voice at last.

Klaus exchanged a knowing look with Dorian. "From Dr. Schreckengost's bomb shelter. Everything you thought was safely hidden away is now in my possession."

"That's impossible!" The horrified Tomlinson looked over at Dorian. "You were there, Marshall! You saw everything was there. You checked the system."

"The last time I checked that system was in 1988, and it was a joke." Dorian held out a hand. "The Major is the one who checked it last." He looked up admiringly. "He does a rather good impersonation of me, don't you think?"

"What? How the hell--"

"Eroica's men are first rate."

"Thank you, Major," Dorian said with a smile.

"Gentlemen, we seem to be straying from the point," Director Tenet injected. "So you're saying the Earl was killed and Agent Marshall seriously injured in the car wreck?"

"That's what the autopsy says," Klaus replied evasively.

Tomlinson gave a derisive snort. "Now what? Are you gonna accuse me of falsifying an official autopsy next?"

You say that like you've never falsified anything, you CIA bastard, Klaus thought.

Tomlinson was waving a hand in Dorian's direction. "Run his prints. They'll come back as--"

"Dorian Red Gloria, a.k.a. Eroica," Klaus interrupted. "His prints were taken by the Italian police after that fiasco with the Pope." He shot a disapproving scowl in Dorian's direction when he heard him snicker. Then he turned back to Tomlinson. "You would've had to change the prints for Marshall, wouldn't you? Make sure everything matched if someone checked on the Earl?"

"Wait..." the stunned Director gasped. "What are you saying?"

"Yes, what are you saying, Major?" Tomlinson challenged. "What fairytale are you gonna tell us next?"

You're so sure of yourself, aren't you? Klaus's eyes flickered. On the screen, the autopsy photographs flashed up one at a time. "Your star pupil and his mentor were involved in a serious automobile accident. Result? One man dead, the other with amnesia. What to do? End the project after how many years of work?"

Tomlinson did not reply.

"Then you had a brainstorm. Drug induced hypnosis. Experimental, but with promising results. So...you had Dr. Schreckengost take the man with amnesia and tell him he is John Marshall, giving him all the facts and figures to go along with it. Then you layered the Earl of Gloria on top of that, using all the films the two had made to reinforce the information." Klaus paused, his face growing darker. "Then you created a third persona. Eroica. Your own personal thief with your own set of specific guidelines. With all this in place, you shipped your re-created man off to England to do your bidding."

"An interesting story," Tomlinson said blandly. "But if you'll look at Agent Marshall's file, you'll see that he agreed to all that."

"Yes. But Lord Gloria didn't."

"So what? Lord Gloria is dead. You've just shown us his autopsy."

Smug bastard. Klaus drew a deep breath. "According to the official records, this man is Agent John Marshall." He held out a hand in Dorian's direction. "His fingerprints and medical information match exactly--dental records, plastic surgery..."

"As they should."

"The official records also state that this man is the Earl of Gloria, everything also matching. As it should, yes?"

Tomlinson's eyes narrowed and he glanced over at the others, seeing they were equally bewildered.

"You changed the fingerprint records, medical information, dental records, everything." Klaus paused and smiled. It was a smile that sent a chill through every man in the room. Then a final document flashed up on the screen. "But you couldn't change his DNA."

There was a collective gasp as the DNA comparison flashed up. Tomlinson made a small surprised noise and leaned back, his eyes wide.

"John Marshall and the Earl of Gloria both have a mother and three sisters, all still living," Klaus informed as he moved closer to the screen. "Some of those siblings have offspring. I'm sure I don't have to tell any of you that Mitochondrial DNA is passed on through the females in the line. Mothers pass on a consistent marker to their offspring, and their daughters pass that on to theirs."

Klaus pointed at the screen. "This top row is the DNA profile from the Glorias. The second row is the profile of the Marshalls. The last three individuals in each line are the man you say is John Marshall, the man buried in John Marshall's grave, and a control subject not related to either--Myself."

Every eye in the room was glued to the screen. The shared markers between family members were circled in red. On each line, two profiles did not contain a circle. The one unmarked in both groups obviously belonging to Klaus. As for the others...

Finally, Dorian could stay silent no longer. He jumped to his feet, crossed to the screen, and stabbed a finger on the Gloria DNA profile. The profile marked as L had a red circle in that row. "That's mine, you bloody son-of-a-bitch! L for Living!" he snarled. "I'm not John Marshall. I have never been John Marshall! He died in 1975. I am Dorian Red Gloria, the Earl of Gloria and I always have been." He stormed over to Tomlinson. "And you are a Goddamn bloody manipulative Yank bastard!" So saying, he punched the man as hard as he could, knocking him out of his chair.

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