by AJ Frazer
Dominic looked on with ambivalence. He was not an especially house-proud person and, staring down the barrel of what he knew was coming, he wasn’t going to quibble over a few ugly alterations to his home that might yet save his life. His life. Dominic had reflected on the fact that he was creating a bunker for only himself. Sure, Jacs and Alex would be welcomed with open arms, but who else did he care about? Who else cared about him? Zhen Daiyu? He certainly had feelings for her, but he still wasn’t sure if they were reciprocated. And where would she be now? And, if Biblical was released, how would he ever find her again?
He sipped a cup of tea as the truck now ambled slowly back up the gently sloping lawn toward the drive. Smith already had two of his men unfurling thick wires that went from the shipping container back to the house. It was a power generator, Dominic remembered. Smith had said that would be the best place for it. Far enough away to be quiet, hidden from the road by the house and still close enough to run cabling. Perfect.
Dominic was walking out of the kitchen on his way to the study when the phone rang. He was always surprised when the home phone rang; he didn’t even know the number, so he wasn’t sure how others got it. Changing course midstride he went to the handset, which sat on a wall-mounted cradle above the quartz kitchen benchtop.
“Dominic,” he said, answering the phone.
The sound of strange clicks and buzzes greeted him at first.
“Hello, Dominic, this is Zhen Daiyu,” she said formally. “Victor wants to know why you haven’t published the article. He said it should have been out yesterday.”
“Hello, Zhen. How are you?” asked Dominic, genuinely concerned for her.
“I’m fine,” she replied sharply. “We’re wanting to know why the article hasn’t been published.”
We’re, thought Dominic. They weren’t alone on this call. “Tell Sagen I’m not happy with it yet. Tell him I need to see him again to complete the piece. It’s missing something and I need to meet him to discuss some elements.”
There was a brief silence. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll let him know immediately. Please stay close to the phone.” She hung up.
Dominic hung the handset back on the wall and wondered if it would be enough to get him another audience. Zhen had played along well. Either someone was with her or she knew the conversation was bugged. He headed to his study. As soon as he sat down, the handset on his desk rang.
“Dominic,” he answered.
“What the hell more do you need from me? The piece is perfect. Just publish the damn thing.” Sagen fumed down the line.
Game time. “Look, you wanted me to write something special for you and I have. Against my personal and professional ethics, I even sanded off the edges, but it’s not ready yet. We’re missing important parts about your vision for the world and the journey that has got you to this point.”
“Bullshit. Just publish it. Now!”
“It’s not bullshit and I’m not sending out something this big without it being perfect. It needs more. I need more time with you.”
Dominic could hear Sagen breathing on the other end of the line.
“If I grant you another meeting, that will be it. Last time. I need you to finish it and publish it remotely as soon as you’re done.”
“Sure, I don’t see why not. Where are you and how do I get there?”
“You’ll receive the details imminently. Come immediately, come alone. And, trust me, I’ll see you coming and I’ll know if you are accompanied by the authorities.”
“Fine.” Dominic put the phone down, knowing that Sagen would not indulge in any other form of nicety or conversation. This was it: the chance to convince Sagen to reconsider and go back to blowing up oil wells.
Barely thirty minutes later, Smith entered the room with an envelope. “Awright, guv, this just arrived for you by courier.”
Christ that was quick. Dominic took the envelope. “Thanks,” he said turning away, opening it.
Inside was a simple piece of paper with a string of printed numbers—longitude and latitude:
-18.236393, 127.665914
They meant nothing to him, so he went to Google Earth and entered them into the search bar. The screen pulled back, and the world spun around 180 degrees before zooming into the red desert of Western Australia and a tiny speck called Halls Creek.
“Jesus,” he mumbled. He couldn’t have got much further away if he tried.
His phone sounded again as a message hit his screen.
Meet me in two days. At the Kimberley Hotel.
Two days? There was so little time. It took twenty-one hours to fly to Australia, which meant he had a day to get prepared. He also realized he might need help dealing with whatever Sagen had in mind for him in the vastness of the Australian outback.
The first call he made was to Jacqueline, briefing her on his travel needs. She would make the arrangements for his private jet. He considered calling Hale, but then recalled how she threatened him and Jagged Edge. While she had the right intentions, she could not be trusted to go about achieving them without sacrificing things. Things such as him.
Making his second call, he held his breath, unsure if the lifeline he was calling would even be able to answer. On the third ring the satellite phone line connected.
“Dom!” It was the harsh, clipped Antipodean accent of Dax Beresford. “You should see the view I’ve got right now! Make you wet your damn pants.”
Dominic couldn’t help but smile. “No doubt. But I’m not calling about the view.”
“Well, what then? You’re interrupting my rest.”
“Where are you?”
“Sitting on top of Dufourspitze in the Monte Rosa massif, about to tuck into my lunch.”
“How quickly can you get back down?”
“Me? I could be down in a jiffy, but my client will slow things down.”
“I need your help. It’s serious. I don’t mean to be dramatic, but it’s a life or death sort of thing.”
Dax’s tone dropped. “What’s up, mate? You in trouble?”
“Not yet. Look, I can’t explain over the phone. You know I wouldn’t call you like this if it wasn’t serious. I need you in London immediately. Can a helicopter get to your position?”
“Ah, yeah sure. Reckon a chopper could get up here today. Weather seems clear enough.”
“OK, I need you to fly to London today. Jacs will call you very soon to make the arrangements. She’ll get you on the fastest flight possible.”
“Mate, I know you’re not a flapper, so whatever this is, it must be bloody important. I’ll see you soon.”
Dominic exhaled. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.” He knew that what he was asking Dax to do was well above-and-beyond. He also knew Dax loathed authority and would hate being ordered around.
That evening, as dusk settled on the estate, Dominic’s black Range Rover pulled up in front of the house. Dominic went out onto the gravel driveway to meet it. “Record time,” he said, reaching out his hand to shake.
“Very comfortable, too. First time I’ve flown private.” Dax was still wearing his climbing gear. His hair was an unruly mess and his sunburnt face was unshaven, yet his eyes were full of energy. He hauled his rucksack out of the boot, hefting it over his shoulder with an orchestra of clanging from the plethora of gear—crampons, rope, carabiners, rock cams, an ice axe, and ice stake—attached to the outside.
“Hope your client wasn’t too put out?”
“He was a fat Swiss carcass. Hopefully he never asks for me again.”
Dominic smirked. “Is that what you say about me after a climb?”
“No mate, never.” Dax headed to the main entrance. “I say you’re a fat Pommy carcass.”
“Come inside. You can clean yourself up. Jacs has arranged for some clothes to be sent over.”
“Bugger me! I knew you were loaded, but this place is next level.” Dax arched his head back to take in the enormity of the mansion with the ivy growing up the side of th
e walls and around the huge bay windows. Four massive stone pillars outside the main entrance made it look truly imposing.
“Does the job.”
“Yeah, s’pose so.”
Later that evening, they stood around the large island bench in the kitchen. Dominic heated some pasta sauce and cooked spaghetti in a large stainless-steel pot.
“This wine is pretty special.” Dax sipped from the large Riedel glass. “I’m no wine buff, but it’s like nothing I’ve ever had.”
“I can tell you right now it is nothing you’ve ever had. I’ve never had it before either. This is a 1958 Penfold’s Grange. It’s an Australian wine, which is apt, because that’s where we’re going.” He was never going to tell Dax that the bottle cost over twenty thousand pounds. A sum even he found eye-watering. Thankfully the wine was eye-wateringly good.
“Australia? Too bloody hot for me. And flat. No proper mountains there.” Dax took another large gulp of the wine. “What d’you need me for?”
“We’re not going to climb mountains.”
“Well, what are we climbing then?”
“Nothing, I hope.”
Dax looked quizzically at Dominic. “So why am I here again? Aside from drinking your wine, of course!”
Dominic put his glass down on the benchtop. “I’m in a tight spot and I need someone I trust watching my back.”
“Let’s hear it then.”
“Ever heard of Victor Sagen? Earth Ghost?”
“Yeah, of course. Mad bugger. But committed to the cause, right?”
“Well, yes, he is mad. And he’s about to do something infinitely bigger than anything he’s done before and I need to stop him.”
“You need to stop him?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, I find myself in a position of relative influence with him, more so than perhaps anyone else in the world.”
“Stop him from what?” asked Dax.
He told Dax about Biblical. Yet another person who had to be brought into the secret. Thankfully, the whole thing was so preposterous that if the secret did get out to the public, no one would believe it. Not that he questioned Dax’s trust and ability to keep quiet.
“Jesus,” said Dax. “Gives new meaning to a dotcom boom. This thing sounds like a cyber bomb. So why is it left to you to stop him? Why aren’t the police or military taking care of him?”
“Good question. The government doesn’t seem to know what to do about it. They’re trying to deal with it through cyber security, but that sounds like defense when they need an offense. They’re preparing to deal with the symptoms rather than the cause. Plus, I don’t trust them. They’ve threatened me and they’ll likely make a hash of trying to stop Sagen—he’s too damned smart.”
“So why are we going to Australia then?”
“To find Sagen.”
“Australia has about the same land mass as the US of A—I hope you’ve got it narrowed down.”
“I do. In fact, I have the exact longitude and latitude.”
“Well, give ‘em to me. This’ll be the easiest guiding I’ve ever done!”
“You’re not here for ingress. You’re here for egress—if things get ugly.”
Dax nodded more seriously. “You sure you don’t want some military types? I know a bunch of special forces guys—or, better yet, a couple of Gurkhas. Fuck me, talk about tough. They’ll get you out of any squeaky spot.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the Gurkhas. There’s no time. You’re it, Daxy. You’re my back-up.”
“All right then. It’s your funeral. You better brief me properly on this Aussie adventure of ours. But first can we eat? I’m about to implode on myself.”
“Of course.”
Dax held out his empty glass expectantly. “And some more of that plonk too, mate.”
That night they made plans, lists, and contingencies. Dominic enlisted Sergeant Smith to help them gather together the gear Dax had requested—all straightforward civilian kit that was sourced quickly.
Jacqueline had been in touch to confirm that the Global Express 8000 could make the distance in one flight, which bought them a few more hours to get prepared. Even so, it was a seventeen-hour flight time. No easy journey, given the duration and number of time zones, even in the comfort of your own plane.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dominic’s alarm sounded at 5 a.m. Despite just two hours sleep, he felt remarkably refreshed and ready to go. Adrenaline could work wonders. He found Dax downstairs, studying maps on a laptop at the kitchen table.
“All sorted?” asked Dominic.
“All good. It’s a lot of land out there and most of it’s arid, dry, and bloody tough. Let’s hope we don’t find ourselves out there for too long. Wouldn’t want to get lost, that’s for sure.”
“So, we have about five hours before we need to be at the airport. Plenty of time to collect the gear and get to the plane.”
“True,” said Dax. “Least the plane won’t leave without us, eh?”
“One of the many benefits of having your own transport,” said Dominic.
“Too bloody right. I could get used to that.”
“Just spend the next half of your life selling your soul to corporate vampires and you’ll have one in no time.”
Dax made a face. “Think I’ll stick with cattle class.”
“In hindsight, I’d agree. Now, I need to head out for a few hours. Help yourself to food and whatever you want.”
Alex drove Dominic into the city in the Merc. As they passed Heathrow, he called Hale. He’d wanted to leave this call to the last moment to avoid her interference. This was about as late as he could leave it before it was too obvious.
“Has he made contact?” asked Hale, dispensing with pleasantries.
“Yes, I’m going to meet him today.”
“Today! Where?”
He considered lying. “Australia,” he said reluctantly.
“Australia? Could he get any further?”
“That’s what I thought.”
“We can arrange a flight and a team to accompany you.”
“Unnecessary. I’ve made my own plans.”
Somehow, Hale’s restrained aggression radiated through the cellular network. “OK, Dominic, what did you have in mind?” He could almost hear the sound of tooth biting through lip.
“I’ll meet with Sagen and I’ll talk him off the ledge. He’ll know if you lot are involved and that will ruin any chance I have of convincing him to reconsider.”
“On one proviso—you take a USB with you and plug it into the first computer you see there.”
He considered briefly. That shouldn’t be too hard to do. “Sure.”
“Where are you now?”
“On my way to the city. I’m flying out at ten thirty this morning from Fairoaks.”
“I’ll see you there before you go,” said Hale and cut off the phone.
Dominic dropped the phone from his ear and looked at it, wondering if he’d made an error calling her.
The miles were chewed up, and they arrived at Julian McBeth’s office in good time. Dominic opened the door as soon as they’d stopped and went straight up the steps. Inside, he was escorted to Julian’s office.
“Dominic, come in!” Julian gathered a pile of papers off his desk.
“Everything in order?”
“Well, as much as can be expected in forty-eight hours—forty-six of them being weekend hours.”
“Excuses already?” said Dominic, baiting his old friend.
“In the most professional sense, go fuck yourself,” replied Julian elegantly.
Dominic smiled. It was always a delight to get a rise out of someone as proper and polite as Julian McBeth. “All right, show me what you’ve got.”
Julian spent the next hour taking Dominic through a summary of his financial positions and the liquidation of his investments. Seen through the lens of pure performance, the positions were horrendous. Unequivocal losses of the highest order—but still better than what th
ey’d be if Biblical did what it was purported to do. Most of his wealth was still tied up in Jagged Edge stocks that he couldn’t offload that quickly. He would just have to write them off.
When Julian finished, Dominic leaned back in the chair and ran a hand through his hair. Julian sat back nervously, clearly unsure what Dominic’s reaction would be to the spectacularly poor translation of his investments into cash and gold.
“Well, thank you, Julian. Probably the worst investment results I’ve ever seen and you’ve probably ever overseen, but a complete success given the timeframe and urgency.”
Julian relaxed noticeably. “Thank you. A lot of people gave up their weekends to make this disaster happen.”
“And I appreciate it. Very much.”
“So, can you level with me now? What the hell’s going on?”
Dominic stared at Julian. He wanted to say something. He wanted to warn him. But he couldn’t. To advise him to run for the hills and take what he could without a thorough explanation would not be enough for a man like Julian. He would need to know the details—details Dominic simply could not share.
“I told you,” started Dominic. “Life changes.”
“Utter bollocks. I don’t believe you. If you value our friendship, you’ll tell me now what the hell is going on. You’re clearly in some sort of trouble. Do I need to go to the police?”
“No! Christ, Julian, can’t you just let it go? I’m getting out, simplifying my life. I used to live by the idea of travel light, live even lighter. I’m going back to that.”
Julian’s eyes shot daggers into Dominic, which said it all.
Dominic stood to leave. “Have the cash and gold delivered to Glenraden. Jacqueline will be there and knows how to operate the safe.”
“As you wish,” said Julian frostily.
Dominic made for the door, while Julian stayed in his seat facing away from him.
Opening the door, Dominic paused, turning his head to the side. “Take care, Julian. May I suggest you get away to the country for a week? Leave today. Don’t ask why, just do it. Get your family and stay there with as much food and supplies as you can muster. Don’t tell anyone else. Just go. Now.”
