Dark Revelations (27 page)

Authors: Duane Swierczynski,Anthony E. Zuiker

Himself—or one of his avatars.

Damien Blair had followed through on his word. He relinquished Global Alliance command to Dark, who directed Natasha and O’Brian as the three searched the facility.

But there were no weak spots.

No hidden assassin’s perches.

Everyone inside the building had been cleared through the security checkpoints.

There were radiation and gunpowder detectors for every ten people in the auditorium.

Guards
everywhere
.

Security was, Dark had to admit, top-notch.

Still, something nagged at Dark’s mind. Something felt
off . . .

chapter 49

DARK

A
fter a few hours of speeches and pleas and even stretches of downright incoherence, the moment viewers had been waiting for had finally arrived: the Q&A session with world leaders. First up: the representative from the United States—powerful Senate Majority Leader Edah Ayres (R-Mo.). The elder statesman, with a big, slightly bucktoothed smile, trimmed beard, and full head of gray hair, took the dais and thanked his hosts.

The conference was being carried live across one global news network and dozens of Internet-based news orgs, and suddenly the media perked up. The rows of camera operators and photographers and reporters down in the media pit roused themselves. Here, finally, truth would speak to power. And they all knew that if they were lucky, they’d catch Senator Ayres red-faced in some misstatement or poorly chosen turn of phrase. Something that could feed the news cycle for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, ideally.

“Thank you so much for having me here, with all of you,” Senator Ayres said. “I’m blessed and humbled to be with you in this beautiful country.”

Dark and Natasha were positioned in the rear of the amphitheater to give themselves the widest possible view; O’Brian, meanwhile, was down in the media pit, just in case Labyrinth had a puppet mixed among the press corps.

“I don’t believe this.”

Natasha nudged Dark, holding up her tablet. The video image on the screen showed what everyone in the room could see live: Senator Ayres addressing the delegates. But the news feed that Natasha was streaming had something that the live viewers could
not
see.

An on-screen lie detector.

As Senator Ayres spoke, a single word, in bold, red seventy-two-point Helvetica type suddenly appeared on the screen:

LIAR

The small meter in the lower right-hand corner twitched into the red, too.

“Where’s that coming from?” Dark asked. “That one site? Is that a parody site, maybe?”

“No,” Natasha said, swiping the screen to the next feed. Same lie detector. She swiped again, to another, notoriously conservative news network. Same lie detector, superimposed over their own borders and news crawl.

“How is he doing this?” Dark asked.

Senator Ayres, who of course had no idea his words were being monitored for veracity, continued his opening remarks. “We believe in spreading freedom so that all may enjoy it.”

And on-screen, in even larger point type:

LIAR

By now some of the reporters and camera operators—checking their own monitors—realized what was happening. Murmurs erupted, cell phones were plucked from belt holders. Senator Ayres glanced down at the media pit briefly, unable to ignore the slight commotion, but then remembered
where
he was,
what
he was doing, and his bucktoothed smile flashed and his attention returned to the delegates.

“And part of the pursuit of freedom is guaranteeing food security and safe water for all. Over thirty-five thousand people die each day from malnutrition-related illnesses, and this is why my administration has fought from the beginning to better understand the causes and consequences of hunger . . .”

LIAR

The word had spread throughout the hall—the modern media hive mind operating at full speed. Delegates looked at one another confusedly. Camera operators, loathe to turn their equipment away from Senator Ayres, tried sorting through wires to see if there was anything plugged in that shouldn’t be. And now the senator’s aides had caught wind of what was happening, and a pack of three young men in charcoal gray suits began to hunch-walk toward the dais to interrupt the senator as discreetly as possible.

“Shit,” Dark said. “It’s coming.”

“What?” Natasha said. “Do you see something?”

“No. I feel it.”

With that, Dark started running down the center aisle of the amphitheater, guided by the gnawing sense of danger in the pit of his stomach.

He was halfway down when the explosion sounded, echoing off the walls of the entire hall.

And Senator Edah Ayres’s face blew apart in a messy red spray.

chapter 50

A
lain Pantin watched the attack happen from the wings, and then even he couldn’t believe it.

An assassination, live, right before his very eyes.

My. God.

As a history student Pantin used to idly wonder what it would be like to witness a major historical moment—a military victory, a landmark speech, an act of terrorism. Now that Pantin was caught up in the actual thing, and not from behind the safety of a television screen, he felt nothing but icy numbness.

Look at that poor man up on that stage, face dripping with bright red blood that looks positively unnatural, surreal, under the bright lights. Stumbling back, still on his feet, hands shaking, not even able to fall down and die properly. It was a horror show. This maniac had waited until the whole world was watching, and then he’d treated it to a snuff film....

Pantin’s cell phone buzzed. It was Trey.

“Don’t panic,” he said. “This is extremely important.”

“Are you watching this?” Pantin asked quietly. He felt goose bumps across every square inch of his flesh.

“Breathe. Keep yourself together. And listen to me.”

“Listen to what? Jesus Christ, Trey, are you watching this?”

“Alain, the world’s going to want to know what to think of this latest attack, and you are going to be the one to explain it to them.”

“
I
don’t know what the fuck is going on, Trey. How am I supposed to explain it to the world?”

“Focus on why Labyrinth targeted Ayres. He’s only lashed out against people who were hiding something. The world will be reassured to know that he’s just like the other targets. Guilty of something.”

“Fuck, man . . . You want me to assassinate the character of a man who’s just been assassinated?”

“You don’t have to make any allegations whatsoever. You should damn this deplorable attack, and invite Labyrinth to air his grievances. Remember to stay focused on the message, not the act.”

Pantin hesitated. He watched as pandemonium gripped the room. Several people were rushing the stage, others looking around for assassins’ perches.

“Don’t give up now,” Trey continued. “You’re the most tenacious man I know. This is why I’ve supported you. It may not seem like it now, but this will truly be the moment that defines you.”

Pantin cleared his throat, said okay, then put the cell phone in his pocket. After a deep breath, he straightened his tie, wiped his sweaty brow with the side of his right index finger, then made his way toward the stage—toward the sea of reporters falling over one another to capture the moment.

The world will want to know what happened.

I must explain it to them.

chapter 51

A
fter an assassination—successful or otherwise—a certain percentage of any crowd will run for cover, concerned for their own lives. But a surprising majority spring into action. This was the case now. Security, as well as other ambassadors and attendees, began to shout at one another, looking for the shooter.

Dark knew there was no shooter. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. The shooter was Labyrinth, and he had struck from a remote location.

But from where?

How, in a highly secure room where even the security personnel carried nothing more powerful than a Taser?

Dark scanned the room, tracing the velocity of the projectile that had struck. If he had more time, he could use lasers and tape to pinpoint the exact origin of the shot. But he didn’t have time. Every second that passed meant that Labyrinth would be speeding away to his next victim.

“Dark.”

Natasha had raced up behind him and was now showing him the tablet. A new message was superimposed over the chaos that had broken out:

DYE , SENATOR , DYE

“What does that mean?” Natasha asked. “Labyrinth doesn’t misspell things.”

A security detail had reached Senator Ayres and was quickly escorting him from the dais and out of the main hall. The politician’s arms were pinwheeling around. He was in pain, but he wasn’t dying. Not by any stretch. Dark pushed his way through the crowd for a better look. The blood on the senator’s face . . . it wasn’t blood at all.

DYE, SENATOR , DYE

Labyrinth was being literal. And his promise to Jane Talbot had been kept. He hadn’t killed anyone since his appearance on South African TV. Instead, he’d arranged it so that a blast of red dye had struck the lying senator right in his distinguished face in front of millions of viewers. And by the time it was rebroadcast and uploaded and sent around via social networking sites, it would be seen by millions more. Anyone with access to a screen.

The politician had been caught red-faced, after all.