The Jagged Edge

by AJ Frazer

  Dominic looked around sheepishly and raised his glass. “Cheers. Seems everyone I never knew is here.”

  Jacqueline held his eye and mirrored his raised glass, chinking it lightly. “So …” started Jacqueline. “What have you been up to then?”

  “Christ, Jacs. I’ve got myself into a sticky situation this time.”

  “Oh God, what now?”

  Dominic took a deep breath and explained Sagen’s blackmail, the video, the missing men at the Il Toro factory, and the fact he had relented and softened the article into a puff piece.

  Jacqueline leaned forward with her hands cupped around her jaw. She looked petite in the big armchair. Her toned, brown shoulders contrasted with her white, sleeveless silk shirt. She forced a flat grin, as close to a British stiff upper lip as Dominic guessed was possible in a situation like this. “Well, yes. That is a bit of a pickle,” she said.

  He slouched back in his seat, the wine glass empty on the table. “Sagen has me by the balls. He can use that video as leverage for virtually anything he wants.”

  “There has to be a way to destroy it, surely, or negotiate to get the original file?”

  “I don’t think Sagen is the kind of person to give up leverage. I get the sense it’s one of his many talents. He probably has a bank of material on all the world’s richest and most powerful people. Perhaps that’s how Earth Ghost is so well funded?”

  Jacqueline nodded as if still pondering the predicament. “Have you told Ray?”

  “I’m too damned ashamed to tell him. He’ll lecture me on being a tit and then rant about how foolish I was to trust Sagen.”

  Jacqueline nodded again. “I still think you need to tell him.”

  “I know. I’m just not ready yet. I’ve been such an idiot these last few weeks. Running around like a bloody child, thinking I can go back to being a front-line correspondent.”

  “Now you do sound like a child, Dominic. Don’t let this bastard get to you. There’ll be a way through it. Have faith.”

  He stared off at the corner of the ceiling, mildly shocked at Jacqueline chastising him but also glad of it. He needed to hear it.

  “Come on, let’s have another. My shout.”

  They stayed in the bar the rest of the afternoon. By six, it was heaving with the usual business crowd. Dominic was feeling mildly drunk and supremely ravenous, so they ate at the restaurant. Jacqueline did an admirable job of taking his mind off things by recounting her latest dating disasters, problems with her flat, holiday plans. It was all a welcome distraction.

  By nine o’clock, he was ready to leave. The business crowd was lathered up with Dutch courage and he felt harassed by the steady stream of old, gray men in colorful business shirts interrupting them to say hello. He texted Alex to pick them up and they went outside into the warm summer air to wait for him.

  “I’ll drop you off on the way,” he said.

  “You sure? I can easily get a black cab.” Jacqueline slurred her words slightly. She held her booze well, but even he could tell she’d had a couple too many.

  “I’m sure. You’re coming with me,” he insisted.

  They drove through the crowded London streets and, turning onto a narrow road, they pulled up out the front of a nondescript two-story terrace that was Jacqueline’s home.

  “Night, Jacs. Thanks for tonight. I needed the shoulder,” he said from the car window.

  She stopped on the pavement. “No problem. Don’t beat yourself up so much. It’ll all be fine.”

  “You’re a star. Goodnight.”

  “Night.” She walked to her front door.

  Alex eased the car down the street.

  Once they were clear of the city, Dominic put the window down and enjoyed the warm air blowing on his face as they sped out past Heathrow Airport. A mild sense of optimism had seeped past his drunkenness. He didn’t believe it, though he was glad of its presence. It was enough to keep him from free-falling into despair. For now, anyway.

  Chapter Nineteen

  In two days’ time, the article would be published worldwide on every one of Jagged Edge’s masthead websites and those of their affiliates. Although he’d committed journalistic treason, Dominic was pleased with the finished piece. But he was steeling himself for Ray’s reaction when he read the published version.

  Today, though, he was due to attend a summer party at the estate of a successful advertising-agency owner. It would be mundane, despite the incredibly attractive, highly engaging, and intelligent young people in attendance. Everyone would be well groomed, polite, and gregarious—until later in the afternoon, when the champagne and booze caught up and the perfectly attired men and stunningly dressed women descended into a drunken hot mess. He would be long gone before that point, though. One of the greatest privileges that came with status, power, and wealth was being able to leave a social situation whenever he damned well chose without being remotely concerned about appearances.

  He left his Surrey estate just after one in the afternoon. The party was at a country house near Horsham in West Sussex, which wasn’t too far. He’d arrive before 2 p.m., stay for a few drinks and hors d’oeuvres, then slip politely away to the tinted-glass safety of his Mercedes. Alex would have him home by five. Dinner in the garden and a movie afterwards would send him off to sleep.

  Perfect.

  He relaxed back into his seat and mulled over the phone call he was about to make while admiring the English countryside drifting by. The shades of green—deep, light, dull, bright—all of them distinctly English. The rolling, fluid landscape—void of mountains, edges, and elevation—used to bother Dominic; he craved the geographic comfort blanket of being surrounded by looming walls of rock and ice. Now, though, he was drawn to the gentle hills and lush foliage of the English countryside.

  Taking out his phone he found Vivek’s name in his contacts list. The background research had been confirmed and Ray had overseen the development of their ninety-day acquisition plan that would see the entire business stripped and dismantled.

  Loose and aggressive.

  The call was answered first ring. “Dominic! Good to hear your voice. It’s been a while. I was beginning to think you had cold feet.” Vivek spoke with a more polished pronunciation than most aristocrats. Eton and Cambridge had that effect on a young man, no matter their ethnicity.

  “No, Vivek, my feet are booted and toasty. However, there is a matter that requires discussion.”

  “Of course, what’s on your mind?”

  Dominic could picture Vivek smiling, proud and expectant. “Well, what’s on my mind is the rampant corruption at Veda Analytics and the illegal enterprises you have been conducting—the political blackmail, the election meddling, the ungodly breaches of data privacy, and the scandalous framing of politicians and businesspeople. That, Vivek, in a nutshell, is what’s on my bloody mind.”

  The initial silence at the other end suggested Dominic had made his point. “Well, Dominic, that all sounds like a very salacious fiction—”

  “Perhaps I’ve not made myself clear. I know you’re up to your filthy eyeballs in it.”

  “I really—”

  “You really need to shut your mouth right now, Vivek, and listen to the new terms of this deal!” Some people considered words to be weapons, Dominic always thought tone was what did the damage. In confrontations like this, he imagined the words coming from deep down in his belly, rolled around in his mouth before being spat out with an enunciation like a viper’s hiss.

  Another long silence followed by a sigh. “I’m listening.”

  “I have the evidence. I know what you’ve been up to. And if I can find it, someone else could too—”

  “What evid—”

  “Do not interrupt me!” said Dominic through gritted teeth before continuing more gracefully. “I am prepared to honor the price we agreed, because I still see value in parts of your business. However, at the signing of the deal, you and your entire leadership team will extricate yourselves with n
o shareholding and no further arrangements other than a deed of release that I will personally stuff so far down your throats you’ll need to ask your lawyer for permission every time you wipe your arse.”

  “Dominic, please—”

  “I’m not finished, Vivek. Now, if you choose to not comply, the deal is off and I will release the evidence. The world will know what a depraved criminal you are. So what’s it to be?” Dominic held his breath.

  “I, uhhh … Let me take it upon consideration and—”

  “There’s no fucking consideration! Yes or no? Right now, Vivek. I’m not wasting another goddamned minute on this deal otherwise.”

  “Just, hold on … Dominic, I—”

  “Now, Vivek!”

  “OK, yes. I agree,” spluttered Vivek. “But what about my son? He was to assume a board position following the deal. Please allow him the dignity of that.”

  “Your cretinous son’s hands are stained with your atrocities. There will never be a seat for him in my boardroom.”

  Vivek broke at the indignity. “How dare you speak of my son that way!”

  “No sympathy for the devil here. You can both rot in hell.”

  “You’re a bastard!”

  “And you, Vivek, are inconsequential. Now, Ray will be in touch with the details. Enjoy retirement.” He hung up before Vivek could say anything further. There was nothing more to say. Tossing the phone on the seat beside him he exhaled and eased back in his seat.

  “Glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of that, chief,” said Alex from the front.

  “That, Alex, was the most enjoyable phone call I’ve made in a very long time.”

  Dominic sat back and felt a wave of relief. Only now did he notice the pressure that had been ratcheting up on him. He had been chewing on the possibility that Vivek had intimate footage of him with Louna in Chamonix. Arranging prostitutes to gain compromising footage was very much in Vivek’s wheelhouse. Dominic had decided before the call to not be swayed by it if Vivek did have anything like that on him. He was a bachelor after all.

  Watching the countryside roll by, he basked in the glow of life domination. Sheer force of will, a lot of guts, and a smattering of luck had got him to this point in this life. Own every moment, own your life. Perhaps he’d stick around a bit longer at the party today and enjoy a few drinks and some attention.

  His phone vibrated before ringing gently on the seat. For a moment he thought it was Vivek with some pathetic attempt to convince him to change his mind. He saw that the number was blocked. Sagen perhaps?

  “Yes,” he said, answering tentatively.

  “Dominic, it’s Zhen Daiyu. I am so sorry to call you out of the blue like this, but I need your help.” Her voice was an octave or two higher than he remembered.

  “That’s all right, nice to hear from you. What’s the problem?”

  “I can’t say over the phone. We need to meet.”

  He hesitated, wondering if this was some kind of trap of Sagen’s doing. “Yes, of course.”

  “Thank you,” breathed Zhen. She sounded genuinely relieved.

  “Where and when?”

  “I’m in London until tonight. Can you meet me this afternoon?”

  “Where did you have in mind?”

  “I assume you are at your Surrey property, so how about Richmond Park?”

  “All right then,” said Dominic.

  “I’ll be at Peg’s Pond at two o’clock. Can you make it there by then?”

  “Yes, fine. I’ll see you there.”

  “Thank you.” She cut the line.

  He put his phone back in his breast pocket. “Change of plan, Alex. Can you get me to Richmond Park, please? I need to find Peg’s Pond.”

  “Course. Can have you there in forty-five, chief.”

  “No rush. Plenty of time.”

  Why did Zhen want to meet? What couldn’t she discuss over the phone? Dominic was also curious as to why Peg’s Pond. He’d never heard of it, but wondered if it was because it was free from CCTV cameras. Most of London and much of Richmond Park had surveillance cameras, but it was likely there would still be a few spots that did not.

  Thirty minutes later, they pulled onto Queens Road, which wound its way through the stunning greenery of Richmond Park. Dominic had forgotten how incredible the park was, particularly in summer.

  “I can get you as far as the corner of Ham Gate Avenue and Queens Road,” said Alex. “From there you’re on foot to the Isabella Plantation, which is where Peg’s Pond is according to the GPS.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Alex pulled the car over to the side of the road and Dominic let himself out. He refused to let Alex ever open the door for him.

  “Want me to join you, chief?”

  “I’ll be fine. Just wait here. I’ll be a while, as we’re not meeting until three.”

  “Standing by.”

  Looking around the expanse of Richmond Park, Dominic took a deep breath of the scented air and headed off toward the Isabella Plantation. This area of Richmond Park was like an oasis within an oasis. The colors and smells created a unique vibrancy. Nature’s beauty at its best.

  He followed a sealed road with no vehicle traffic and took in the sounds of the birds and the wind rushing through the thickly leaved trees. Directly ahead, he saw a herd of deer lazing about near a copse. The road veered to the right, and he followed it. The sun was hot, and the breeze did little to cool him down. He took off his linen jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his white cotton shirt and threw the jacket over his shoulder.

  He used the map app on his phone to navigate to Peg’s Pond, as there were no signs that he could see. When he arrived, there was only one couple walking around the pond. They carried an expensive-looking digital SLR camera and the obligatory long black lens. Tourists. He walked around the pond before sitting at a bench bathed in dappled shade. He rested one arm across the back of the seat and waited.

  He felt the relief of having spoken to Vivek wash over him. One less drama. Only one massive acquisition to manage. Still, he had the right people in the business to do that. He’d just be fronting it with the media and investors.

  “Hello, Dominic.” Zhen’s voice startled him.

  He turned to her and smiled. “You chose a lovely spot for a meeting.”

  She came around and sat next to him. She looked stunning in a cotton summer dress. The yellow material made her tanned skin even more radiant. Her expression, though, was completely at odds with her appearance: her face was grave and her eyes weary.

  “I need your help, Dominic, before something terrible happens.”

  Taken aback, he cocked his head and shuffled around to look directly at her. “What is it?”

  She took a deep breath, resetting herself. “Something huge is happening. I thought it was just a myth, a stupid idea that could never be real, but it’s real … it’s going to happen. Unless someone can stop him.”

  “Stop what? What are you talking about?”

  “Oh God, I don’t even know where to begin.” She chewed at her thumbnail and her right leg tapped quickly up and down.

  “From the beginning,” he said, calmly.

  She looked at him sideways. “Sorry, I’m not making any sense.”

  “Not especially, no. You need to step back and tell me the full story. From the beginning.”

  Zhen took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. “A few years ago, Sagen came to the conclusion that blowing up infrastructure and attacking the corporate contributors to climate change wouldn’t fix the trajectory of the environment. The corporations aren’t the ultimate source of the carbon economy and politicians aren’t capable of managing the changes required.

  “Then he saw what happened every time we had a global health pandemic—the social distancing, the self-isolation, and the positive affect it all had on pollution and emissions. The trouble was, emissions bounced back as soon as the pandemics ended. He realized that the only way to truly tackle climate change was fo
r people to reduce consumption en masse, permanently. People either had to choose to do so, or have the choice made for them. For years there have been rumors within Earth Ghost of a time-machine event—”

  “A what? A time machine!” said Dominic, smiling incredulously. “You got me here to talk about time machines?”

  “I said a time-machine event. The idea is that to save the Earth and, ultimately, mankind, we need to roll back the centuries. Send humanity back to pre-industrial-age living. A time-machine event is one that is so cataclysmic that it sends us back in time in terms of how we live. But to do that, it has to be something pretty horrifying. A nuclear holocaust could do it, a bio-weapon perhaps, a natural event or series of natural events. I mean, ironically, climate change could do it. Either way, a lot of people would be hurt and killed.”

  “So you think Sagen is going to start a nuclear war?”

  “In a way, perhaps. But worse.”

  “Worse? Zhen, what are you getting at?”

  “It’s called Biblical. It’s a computer virus, or rather a worm that is unlike anything ever created.”

  A computer virus–– sorry, “worm”? How was that going to cause world annihilation? He wasn’t sure what to make of Zhen’s story, but he could see she was genuinely terrified. He knew terror when he saw it.

  “What’s it built to do?”

  “To take us to the precipice. Sagen is convinced that there will be no real change in global consumption until humanity is staring over the edge and into the abyss. To borrow from your company’s name, he wants to make the edge a jagged one by using Biblical to destroy every single critical infrastructure system in the world. Almost instantly and simultaneously.”

  “Critical infrastructure? What like power, transport, telecoms?”

  “Yes, exactly. Any system that is controlled by computers will be affected. Finance markets, water-pumping systems, internet servers, medical facilities, distribution facilities, shops, connected cars, utilities, basically anything important would be taken down.”