by AJ Frazer
Sagen put his hands together in a prayer position and bowed his head before the screen went blank.
“Sonofabitch,” murmured Ray. “He’s gone and fucked us for eternity.”
Dominic pushed back from the screen and walked to the window. He looked out at the quiet streetscape below. He shook his head slowly, a smile growing on his face. “He’s not fucked us, Ray, he’s saved us. It took eight billion people to get us to the precipice of ecological destruction and just one man to save us.”
Dominic’s eye was drawn to the enormous digital billboards below that had been blank since Biblical was unleashed. Now all the screens had the same picture of a beautiful woman with a dusty-haired boy, all teeth—no more than four years old—with familiar blue eyes. The text below the image simply said, For love.
Dominic shook his head in wonder.
Every connected digital screen around the world was broadcasting Sagen’s final goodbye.
Chapter Forty-One
Like a Mexican wave, the celebrations rolled across the world. It gathered momentum throughout the day as the systems and infrastructure that had been offline were restored. Power, financial systems, transportation, and telecommunications were all slowly re-established. To the shock of Western governments and central banks, the one thing that did not return to normal was debt. Every single negative number in the central banking world was turned to zero. Effectively, all third-world debt was wiped away; a clean slate for developing nations so that they did not have to forego their natural endowment in order to meet crippling interest repayments. It was Sagen’s final finger in the air to the capitalists.
However, no one knew what lay ahead. It was like winning the first major battle in a war that could drag on for years to come. Celebrate, yes, but the first question on everyone’s mind was, “What now?”
Dominic, Ray, and Desmond reconvened in Dominic’s office later that day. Jagged Edge Media sites were restored to full operational order. The headlines were like something from VE Day.
“The prime minister dodged a bullet there, didn’t she?” said Dominic.
“Quite the turn of events,” said Ray. “Her revised address has been huge, and it was an exclusive to Jagged Edge as a thank you for our support throughout.”
Dominic nodded, pondering the pointlessness of worrying about exclusives after all they’d been through.
“So what now?” asked Desmond pensively.
“Now? I’m going home to rest. I suggest you all do the same. Tomorrow will be the start of a monster news cycle that will last for years. I’ve had a scan through the Earth Ghost commandments. They’re tough and they’ll not be met easily or without sacrifice. Governments are going to tear themselves to pieces trying to figure it all out, but I think they realize now that Biblical is the real deal and that we’re all hostages. Albeit hostages who can control our fate.”
“What a way to create a legacy for himself,” said Ray.
“It’s one hell of a legacy too. Biblical is going to be analyzed, not just technically and scientifically, but by philosophers, law makers, writers, artists, culture-vultures, marketeers. They’re all going to pick over Biblical and what it means to us and how we adapt.”
Ray groaned. “You’re right. There will be whole industries built around this shit. Christ, I thought creating an industry around social damned media was bad enough.”
Dominic stood and began collecting his things. “Well, gents, I think my nerves are suitably raw and salted after the last few weeks. I’m going home to sleep for days.”
“Yeah, not bad for a beat-up old hack,” said Ray, also standing to leave.
Desmond didn’t laugh. He just stood awkwardly.
“As you would say, Ray, go fuck yourself.” Dominic grinned as he opened the door. “You know, I was kind of looking forward to never having to use a mobile phone again,” he said, palming his phone into his attaché.
“Like I said, old hack,” chided Ray.
Dominic smiled and shook his head. “Like I said …”
That evening, Dominic dined with his friends at Glenraden. It was a far more relaxed and light-hearted affair than any they’d had recently. After dinner, they all went outside to a courtyard that had a large brick fire beside a pizza oven. The generator was off and the air was tantalizingly quiet and warm.
Dax smacked his crystal tumbler against Dominic’s. “Gotta say, you’ve done good these last few weeks. Can’t have been easy.”
“Well, I didn’t get shot in the leg. You’re the one who took one for the team.”
“A bloody graze, I’ll be back up Mont Blanc next week. That’s if there’s anyone wanting to climb after all this.”
“Like hell. You’ll be convalescing here until you’re a hundred percent. I’ll pay you as if you were on a job.”
“That’s very generous, mate, but I’ll need to find something to do if I’m staying down on the hinterland instead of the mountains. You know I don’t do well below three thousand meters.”
“There’s plenty to do around here. For starters, I need to dismantle all the crap the survivalist bloke littered around my grounds. Cost me a fortune—and all for nothing.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t be chucking that stuff away. You’re assuming the world can meet Sagen’s commandments. I had a read of them earlier. It’ll require a couple of miracles wrapped up in a lot of luck to meet his standards.”
“Very good point. Well, perhaps we simply need to set it up properly, just in case. Let’s take Glenraden off the bloody grid.”
“So what are your plans now, Dom?” asked Jacqueline.
“Well, Jacs, Jagged Edge has been going just fine without me around for a while now. I’m not going back to the office. My heart’s not in it anymore. I’m going to resign from the chairmanship and leave it to Ray and the team. He’s got it covered—doesn’t need me hanging around like a bad smell.”
Jacqueline nodded. He knew she wouldn’t be surprised by this. She had been with Dominic long enough to know when he was getting fed up.
“What you going to do then, chief?” said Alex.
“I started something the other day that needs to be finished.”
“Your book?” asked Jacqueline.
“Yes,” he said. “I think the world needs to know more about Sagen, given what he’s done.”
“I look forward to reading it,” said Dax. “Will I be in it?”
Dominic smiled. “Sure. I’ll write you in as the dopey idiot who let himself get shot.”
“Piss off.” Dax turned to Jacqueline. “Jacs, I want to see this thing before it goes near a publisher. I’ll need to fact-check it and make sure he’s not big-noting himself the whole way through.”
“Don’t worry,” Jacqueline said. “The way he writes, it’ll be years before this thing sees a publisher.”
They laughed, warm and comfortable, breathing the still air, laced now with smoke and heat from the fire. Dominic felt a sense of calm and surety, something he’d not had for a very long time.
Chapter Forty-Two
The next day, Dominic sat at his desk, looking out the window onto a stunning late-summer afternoon. His mind drifted, as it had done every day, back to Zhen Daiyu. He figured the authorities would have her somewhere top secret, or perhaps they had taken a leaf from the Americans’ book and enacted extraordinary rendition. For all he knew, she was festering in a hole in the Middle East or Africa, never to be seen or heard from again. The thought of those CIA brutes getting their murderous hands on her made his blood boil. She was young, somewhat naïve, and in all likelihood had very little to do with Biblical—not to mention the fact that she had tried to stop Sagen by coming to Dominic.
Amplifying his feelings for her was the ever-present guilt that he felt for leaving Sagen on the ship. He had analyzed it over and over and he knew there was nothing more he could have done, but it didn’t lessen the sense of his betrayal and failure. He couldn’t help Sagen now, but he damned well could help Zhen.
Picking up his mobile, he found Susan Hale’s contact details and dialed her number. It had become his daily ritual since he’d visited Zhen at MI6 Headquarters. He’d call Hale for an update on Zhen and she would either ignore his call, or fob him off. Dominic’s patience was now worn through.
“Mr. Elliston. What a surprise!”
“Ms. Hale, I wanted to ask you a favor, if I may.” He dispensed with the usual pleasantries.
“Well, of course. Anything for the man who did his damnedest to save the world, but failed.” Her tone was cold.
“Have you ever stopped to consider that my failure is precisely what will save the world? Besides, considering how well you were doing without me, you may want to mind your tone.”
“What is it you want?”
“I want to see Zhen Daiyu.”
“We’ve been over this. I don’t know where she is. It’s out of my ha––”
“Ms. Hale, I’m sure you realize that throughout the Biblical event, Jagged Edge had a hotline directly to the prime minister. Now, I’m certain that if I asked Louise nicely, she would extend every courtesy and grant me … well, my every wish.”
Silence.
“So, I suggest you rethink your little game plan and give me an hour with her.” He let Hale stew in the silence. It was a good negotiation technique to go silent on your opponent. He’d played with much harder negotiators than Hale over the years.
“All right, Mr. Elliston, let me see if I can arrange a short meeting for you with Ms. Daiyu. But you will need to sign your life away in the name of national security.”
“Fine. Where and when?”
“I’ll come back to you. Be ready to go.”
Less than an hour later, Hale called back. “She’s incarcerated at Belmarsh Prison. I’ve spoken to the governor there and you may have an hour with her tomorrow afternoon at two.”
“Belmarsh? I thought that was a supermax prison reserved for the worst offenders and men only?”
“Yes.”
“All right.” He sighed. “I’ll be there.”
The following day, he arrived on time at Belmarsh Prison in South East London. The governor himself came down and escorted him to Zhen. He was an older man, dressed in a musty-looking black suit with dandruff on the shoulders. His complexion was as gray as the afternoon’s London sky.
“I don’t suppose you do this for every inmate, Governor,” said Dominic.
“No. However, she is not just any inmate and you’re not just any visitor, Mr. Elliston.”
“Of course,” said Dominic, realizing that the governor was here to avoid something derogatory being written about his prison.
“How is it that Ms. Daiyu is being housed at this establishment? I was under the impression it was a male-only facility.”
“It is, but we tend to get a lot of the high-profile terrorists here. Not just terrorists, actually, we over-index simply on the high profile. Jeffrey Archer, Andy Coulson, Ronnie Biggs, Anjem Choudary, Julian Assange—we’ve had some colorful and rather despicable people housed within these walls.”
“I should hardly think that Ms. Daiyu fits the bill then. Again, I wonder why the government would see it appropriate to house her in such a place?”
“Ours is not to reason why, but I think you will find that we have adapted her facilities to meet her female needs.” The way the governor said “female needs” in a drawn out, soft tone made Dominic’s skin crawl. Something about him is amiss.
They arrived at the interview room. The governor clasped the door handle with his gray, invertebrate-like hand. “Before we go in, I must ask that you refrain from upsetting Ms. Daiyu. She has had difficulty coming to terms with her incarceration here. We have had to calm her down with the aid of medication. It is most unpleasant when the inmates become distressed. We endeavor to maintain her equilibrium.”
Dominic wanted to strangle the man. He pitied Zhen for being locked in here under his auspices. He pitied all the inmates.
The governor opened the door and beckoned Dominic inside.
Walking in, he saw Zhen chained to the table wearing a dull khaki pullover a few sizes too big and baggy, bright-green trousers. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and she stared at the stainless-steel tabletop.
Seeing her, even like this, made him realize that he needed to be with her. There was an unspoken chemistry between them that Dominic knew she had to feel too.
He walked to the seat opposite, without taking his eyes off her. She didn’t raise her face or gaze at all.
“Zhen, are you OK?” he asked gently, shocked and immediately regretting asking such an idiotic question—of course she wasn’t.
She looked up at him slowly, her catatonic eyes deadened by the pharmacological cocktail they’d given her. Drool collected at the corner of her mouth and threatened to drop to the table. As her eyes focused and she recognized him, she inhaled a soft gasp. Tears formed over her eyes before tumbling down her cheeks.
Dominic couldn’t stand it any longer. He stood abruptly and went around the table, bent down and held her head to his chest. She sobbed. Huge, heaving sobs that rocked him. He held her tight, enveloping her, not wanting to let her go. Ever.
A crackly voice came through a speaker in the ceiling. “Body contact is not permitted, please sit back down and do not touch the prisoner.”
Dominic raised his head, tears were falling down his cheeks now and he thought his chest might explode from the pounding his heart was delivering to his ribcage.
“It’s all right, Zhen. Come on. It’s OK. I need to sit now.”
Zhen’s manacled hands were bolted onto his arm that was comforting her. She was showing no sign of letting go.
“I have to sit down or they will take you back to your cell.”
“Mr. Elliston, you must not physically contact the prisoner.”
“All right, you bastards! Just give me a moment!” He didn’t know if they could hear him, though he assumed they could, and likely, would be recording the whole conversation and sending it to Hale.
Zhen reluctantly eased her grip and let Dominic take back his arm. He sat down opposite her as she sobbed gently, wiping her nose with the sleeve of the cotton jumper.
“Zhen, I am so sorry. I had no idea they were keeping you here like this.”
“Get me out, please, Dominic! I don’t belong in here.” Her voice was pitiful and weak, nothing like the strong, vivacious woman he remembered.
“I will do everything I can to get you out of this place. But you need to stay calm and keep your wits about you. Do you understand?”
She sniffed and nodded.
“Have they treated you OK?”
Again, she nodded then lifted her gaze. “I tried to stop Victor. I didn’t want him to do it. That’s why I came to you.”
“I know. I know you did. I’ve told them and I’ll keep telling them. I’ll ensure the public know that you are a hero, that you tried to stop him.”
She took a deep breath and calmed herself, wiping the tears away, sniffing loudly. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m so afraid that I’m locked up in here and no one knows. That no one’s trying to get me out.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll be taking this to the very highest levels as soon as I walk out of this building.”
Zhen’s huge wet eyes locked onto his. “I can’t tell you what it means to hear you say that.”
She didn’t belong in here. He had to take a deep breath to pull himself together before he too started sobbing. “So you’re certain, you’ve been treated well?” He pressed.
“Yes,” she said, calmly, sounding a little more like her normal self. “As well as can be expected in a maximum-security prison.”
“Good. Look, I mean it—I will do everything I can to get you out of here. OK?”
“OK. That’s the best thing I think I’ve ever heard someone say.” A fleeting smile bent her lips.
They talked more and Dominic told her about the video o
f Sagen and how Biblical was now monitoring the environment and essentially policing the world. He told her about the book and what he was writing about. She laughed gently at this. The sound relaxed Dominic. She was more like the woman he remembered.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, still smiling.
“He said you’d write a book about it.”
“Really? That predictable, am I?”
“Victor was a flawed genius. A savant, tortured by what he saw as his failure to protect his family.”
“Yes, I got that impression.”
“But, do you know why he chose you?”
“At first I figured it was obviously because I control a media empire, but then in Australia, he said something about succession.”
She smiled again. “That’s right. He saw himself in you. He said you were just like him in many respects; that you were prepared to do deals with the devil to accomplish what you knew was good and important. He also said you were courageous, smart and driven. He said that because you were like him, he knew how to prime you, how to seduce you, and how to get you to care about Earth Ghost.”
Dominic was stunned. “Really? He said that?”
“Yes, he did. I don’t condone what he did and I had nothing to do with orchestrating it, I promise, but you should know, he’d been playing you for a long time.”
“How so?”
“He used behavioral economics and social-engineering principles to nudge you. For starters, the woman you met in Mont Blanc after your climb, she was a prostitute. An exceptionally talented one. One who planned your seduction for weeks.”
Dominic felt a darkness form around him.
“The first meeting with Sagen,” she continued, “when you were abducted, he didn’t need to do that. It was theater to excite you. Your flight over the Austrian Alps when you had the emergency descent? There was no emergency. It was all choreographed to get you to feel invincible and to keep you taking more risks. And, of course, you know about the Il Toro mission. But that was also his insurance policy—in case you were put off by the madness of everything.”