Iron Sunrise by Charlie Stross
Reading this series of Stross's seems like micro-ablating an ASIC to get at the intellectual property.
'Thanks.' Frank took an experimental puff, winced slightly, and took another. 'That's better. Whisky and cigars, what else is there to life?'
The woman was staring at him with clear fascination. 'If you were at the Moscow embassy in Sarajevo, you probably saw rather a lot of bodies.' The journalist winced. A palpable hit.
'Good.' Something seemed to go out of Hoechst, leaving her empty and tired. 'Everybody think they're doing the right thing, kid. All the time. It's about the only rule that explains how fucked-up this universe is.'