Dark Revelations

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Dark Revelations Page 10

by Duane Swierczynski


  “Did you share this stroke of genius with Roeding or O’Brian?”

  “You can tell them on the way to the airport,” Dark said. “Though I’m not sure it’ll do any good. I meant what I told Blair. He’s toying with us, giving us just enough time to jump through his little fucking hoops and . . . oops, sorry, play again. The only way to beat this motherfucker is to jump ahead of him.”

  “You may be right. So how do you get New York from the third riddle?”

  I’M THE PART OF THE BIRD THAT’S NOT IN THE SKY.

  I CAN SWIM IN THE OCEAN AND YET REMAIN DRY.

  WHAT AM I?

  “I’ll tell you if I’m right,” Dark said.

  Natasha, after a moment’s hesitation, snapped shut the laptop, wrapped the power cord around its body, and followed Dark outside to a private car already waiting.

  “If you’re wrong, I’ll put a bullet in you myself,” Natasha said as the car raced to the airport.

  TRANSCRIPT: THE JANE TALBOT SHOW

  TALBOT

  Hello, my friends. If you don’t see the familiar Jane Talbot Show set, don’t worry—it’s not your cable signal. [Smiles] I’m joining you from a remote studio location, a location known only to me, for reasons that will be clear in just a few moments. As you know, for many years, individuals accused of crimes have appeared on my show to surrender in person. They’ve feared mistreatment from the police, and often with good reason. Well, today we have another individual accused of the most serious crime imaginable—not here in Johannesburg, but as far away as Los Angeles in America and Dubai in the Middle East.

  MONTAGE: Cable news footage from the “Labyrinth” murders—Malibu, Dubai.

  TALBOT

  He calls himself Labyrinth, and he says that he’s a force of good in the world, not evil.

  MONTAGE: Police still—items from Labyrinth’s packages.

  TALBOT

  And today, in a worldwide exclusive, Labyrinth is here, live, in the very next studio, ready to explain his actions of the past week.

  CUT TO: “Labyrinth,” draped in shadow, in a darkened studio, waiting.

  TALBOT

  I want you to know, home audience, that we did not come to this decision lightly. We do not harbor criminals; we merely want to facilitate a surrender. And the man calling himself Labyrinth insists that he will give up after this broadcast. But first, he wants a forum to air his views. [Pause] Labyrinth, we are granting your request.

  LABYRINTH

  Thank you for having me, Ms. Talbot. I’m a fan of the show.

  TALBOT

  Why are you doing this?

  LABYRINTH

  Why do you do this?

  TALBOT

  You mean this show?

  LABYRINTH

  Yes.

  TALBOT

  I try to be a force of good in the world. To show that one person’s good deeds can have a larger impact.

  LABYRINTH

  And that’s what I love about you, and your show. That’s it exactly. I am attempting to do the same thing.

  TALBOT

  But you’re . . . accused of killing people. No matter the justification, murder is wrong. We must believe that, or we descend into savagery.

  LABYRINTH

  I disagree, naturally, and believe that bold actions are the only way to produce bold change. But I can appreciate your position, so let me make a deal with you. I’ll stop killing. In honor of you and your show. Perhaps I’ll spread my message without bloodshed—thanks to your generosity.

  TALBOT

  Let me make sure I’m understanding you. You’re willing to stop killing, and surrender yourself on this program?

  LABYRINTH

  Oh. . . . [Chuckles] I didn’t say anything about surrender.

  TALBOT

  But I don’t understand. I’m offering you a forum to explain yourself to millions of viewers around the world.

  LABYRINTH

  Millions, Ms. Talbot? Really? Seems you’re inflating your reach just a touch.

  TALBOT

  Let’s get back to you, Labyrinth.

  LABYRINTH

  In a moment. I’m fascinated by you, actually. All of the work you do. Especially for children. You’re known for it internationally, aren’t you?

  TALBOT

  My viewers would much rather hear about you, and your mission.

  LABYRINTH

  You’re really keen on helping schools, aren’t you? Especially here in South Africa. Such a worthy cause.

  TALBOT

  Yes, I would agree. But again, we’re not here to—

  LABYRINTH

  I’ve spent a lot of time looking at your process. Specifically, how you help these schools. It is a fascinating model—one I briefly considered adopting myself. See, what you do, and what the viewers at home may not know, is that you’ll do a show on a struggling school, right here in Johannesburg, perhaps. And you will solicit contributions from major corporations—shame them, really, into donating computers and books and other educational supplies.

  And you’ll skim just enough cash off the top to not quite do the job.

  TALBOT

  I’m sorry. We’re done.

  LABYRINTH

  If you or any members of your production team touches a single fucking button, the bomb under your chair will fucking explode. You will die on live TV, Ms. Talbot.

  Is that what you want, you vile cunt?

  TALBOT

  W-w-what? You did . . . what?

  LABYRINTH

  You graciously allowed me to inspect the studio before I agreed to this interview. While doing so, I left a little present under your chair. Surprised no one noticed it.

  TALBOT

  James, kill the feed now.

  LABYRINTH

  Kill the feed, James, you kill your boss.

  TALBOT

  Don’t do this. Please don’t do this. You’re making a big mistake.

  LABYRINTH

  I could have said the same to you. Don’t do this, Jane. Don’t pretend to help children while keeping them struggling the whole time, just because it will help your ratings, help you reach those millions of viewers you so covet.

  TALBOT

  No, I don’t—

  LABYRINTH

  Don’t you fucking lie to your viewers, Jane. Poor show. I’ve collected the evidence into one document, and your viewers can see it for themselves . . . why, right now, as I’ve just released it into a thousand different servers and download sites. Just search for the terms “Jane Talbot” and “Child Abuse” and you’ll be on your way.

  TALBOT

  Labyrinth, you don’t have to do this. We can still talk. You promised me you’d stop killing.

  LABYRINTH

  And you promised those children so much, didn’t you? Hand them a scrap of bread while pressing the heel of your Manolo Blahniks into their dirty little faces.

  TALBOT

  You bastard.

  LABYRINTH

  I don’t blame you, personally. You’re just a symptom of a larger disease. The education system for our most precious resource, our children, is not serving their needs. It’s serving the needs of the administrators, the government, by putting the focus on test scores in order to get more funding. Why no creative schools? Why is it all based on one assembly-line system? The current education system is based on Henry Ford’s idea from the turn of the century. Education shouldn’t be a business. It’s outdated and doesn’t help our kids. It’s a shadow of what it should be.

  TALBOT

  But . . . I agree with you, I’m trying to fix it.

  LABYRINTH

  Still clinging to your lies? Let’s leave it to your viewers then, shall we? James, I’d like you to open the lines, phone and Web. If you’ve downloaded the documents, and you wish to see Janey here punished for her crimes against the children, then let your voice be heard. Thy will be done . . .

  TALBOT

  Talk to me. Please talk to me. Don’t do this. W
hatever you’re planning. We can talk it through.

  LABYRINTH

  James? Are we rolling? You be sure to keep me updated on those calls, James. Patch them through.

  TALBOT

  Please....

  LABYRINTH

  You’re right in the middle of what will become the most-watched television show in the history of the medium. You do realize that, don’t you? They’re going to watch this and read about you forever. It will be bigger than the moon landing. Enjoy it, Jane.

  TALBOT

  I’m begging you. . . .

  LABYRINTH

  Don’t fucking beg me, you bitch. Beg them. Beg your viewers. Beg the children!

  chapter 31

  LABYRINTH

  I love it—

  The sound of a human mind snapping when you trap it and it realizes it has nowhere left to go—no more turns, no backtracking, no do-overs. . . .

  Just wall.

  Poor sweet Jane Talbot, listen to her hem and haw and stutter and stop—so inarticulate all of a sudden. It’s not just me who enjoys seeing that pig sweat. News of my first three messages, on opposite ends of the globe, excites the media like nothing since the Unabomber or that clown prince Assange.

  Jane Talbot, I wasn’t lying—you and I are going to make history together.

  Stop glancing at the space under your seat.

  You can see it from where you are.

  I guarantee it.

  Already the worldwide Internet chatter is cranked up to unreal levels, beyond my greatest expectation.

  Who knew the world cared so much about the education of poor South African children?

  Amazing what the populace will care about once you give them a reason.

  Some call for me to run for president; others want to give me Jane Talbot’s old talk show slot.

  I wouldn’t take either if you paid me.

  Because you can’t save the world if you’re Jane Talbot.

  You can’t save the world if you’re the president of the United States.

  But you can save the world if you follow me.

  chapter 32

  DARK

  Dark and Natasha looked like any average couple catching a flight from Paris to New York City. No luggage to check in, but what did it matter to a young couple in love? However, even casual observers would have picked up on the body language. The male seemed indifferent, while the woman seemed to be realizing that she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.

  “Why are we doing this?” she asked.

  “I don’t have a gun to your head.”

  “How sure are you?”

  Dark smiled. “A mentor of mine—the guy who taught me how to do this? He was famous for playing his gut hunches. Most of the time he was right. It used to frustrate me, until I learned to follow my gut, too.”

  “I’d love to meet this mentor of yours,” Natasha said, “so I could punch him in the face.”

  “He’d probably like it.”

  About an hour into their flight, as they were cruising thirty-five thousand feet above the icy Atlantic, Natasha received a text message from Blair. The plane featured Wi-Fi, but from the sound of Natasha’s voice, it was clear she preferred it didn’t.

  “Fuck,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Blair knows we’re on our way to the U.S.,” she said, “and he’s not happy about it. Not in the slightest.”

  “No?”

  “I’m actually softening his language.”

  “He told us to investigate. So we’re investigating.”

  “You and I both know what he meant. I was a fool to follow you. Is this what your mentor also taught you? How to nuke the careers of your colleagues?”

  “Blair will cheer up when we catch this son of a bitch.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “And see, I thought you were beginning to trust me.”

  Natasha shook her head and dropped her cell phone to her lap. “This has nothing to do with trust. Labyrinth’s on live TV right now, confessing everything to Jane Talbot. In South Africa.”

  Hans Roeding loaded his weapons while Deckland O’Brian used his tablet computer to watch The Jane Talbot Show Webcast at the same time he hacked into their billing servers. No matter how supposedly “secret” the remote studio location, if the producers of The Jane Talbot Show used it, there had to be a bill for it somewhere. There were only a few places accountants could hide a certain line item, and fairly predictable ways for them to disguise it. O’Brian had seen it all before.

  “Got anything?” Roeding asked.

  “Patience, my steroid-addled friend, patience . . .”

  “Give me direction at least.”

  “Straight for now. Until I tell you to turn, big guy.”

  O’Brian tried to keep a playful exterior, but inside he was seething. This was not the way Global Alliance was supposed to work. Blair should have stuck to his guns and at least sent Natasha along—a third team member would have made a huge difference on the ground. A fourth would have been brilliant, too, but so far Dark was a crushing disappointment. All this talk from Blair about how the American manhunter would complete the team and take it to the next level. Platitudes and shite, that’s what it was. O’Brian would rather shoulder an extra part of the burden than have to deal with that prima donna.

  On-screen, O’Brian’s search yielded three remote studios scattered throughout Johannesburg. He ruled two of them out for being too large; his gut told him Labyrinth would want to control all aspects of the production. Someplace small.

  “Okay, Hans. Turn right.”

  “Right where?”

  “Right here, right fucking now!” O’Brian yelled. His partner made a hairpin turn. O’Brian tightened his grip on the tablet. He saw how many miles were between them and the studio. A ridiculous number of miles. But he didn’t want to depress Hans. Not yet, anyway . . .

  But it would be so good to be the team that apprehended Labyrinth. Just the two of them.

  chapter 33

  Johannesburg, South Africa

  O’Brian and Roeding made it to the station while Labyrinth was still on the air.

  They didn’t go ask permission or liaise with local police or any of that nonsense. Roeding smashed in the front door of the studio with a boot, submachine gun in hand; O’Brian covered him. The staffers at this tiny remote studio—little more than three rooms, no bigger than a fast food restaurant—looked pale and terrified. O’Brian knew that questioning the staff would result in unreliable information. They’d be either too nervous to be of any real help, or they’d lie, thinking they were protecting the life of their boss. So as Roeding had raced that last mile through the streets of Johannesburg, O’Brian found a schematic of the building, and based on old production notes, knew which studio would contain Jane Talbot, and which would contain Labyrinth.

  Plan?

  There was no plan, other than the Global Alliance standard operating procedure in these kinds of high-tension, no-time-left-on-the-clock situations:

  Stop the maniac.

  Roeding would pounce on Labyrinth and incapacitate him before he had the chance to detonate any bomb.

  O’Brian would forcibly remove Jane Talbot from the studio as quickly as possible, in case Roeding was a few seconds too late.

  O’Brian also knew they’d need at least two seconds to blind Labyrinth right before the strike. With a press of a button on his cell, he jammed the signal, both externally and internally, with a microwave blast. Yes, O’Brian noted to himself drily, they have an app for that.

 

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