The leaders, charismatic and unflinching in requiring loyalty or death. The subjects, cult members who lived or died by their loyalty toDominatus. Some were criminals, who got to indulge their evil appetites. Guys like Dr. Buzard, who used their research to create monstrous things that Kenna and her team had barely managed to stop—or survive.
Within the group, there were factions, but someone at the top had to know what everyone was doing. Or, as Bear had concluded, the person who controlled the money had access to it all. They knew what each part of the organization was doing.
Did this man have that kind of position?
If he did, it was highly unlikely he’d have allowed himself to be captured. And now that he had, it was equally unlikely he was going to tell them anything. Or offer anything in exchange for better treatment.
“And you’re going to save me?” Holmberg asked.
Ramon stared at him for a long time. “Everyone deserves redemption.” That had to be said, but also “If I thought it might work, that would be my plan. But saving one person inDominatusat a time, stripping them of every foot soldier they have, and dismantling the entire operation from the bottom up isn’t going to work.”
The whole thing was too big. The backlash would be swift and decisive; they’d be cut off before they could finish.
Bear leaned toward him a little. “That would be why my plan is better.”
“Care to share?” Ramon asked.
Bear showed him the phone screen, and the photo that had been uploaded to…something. Looked like a message board, probably on the dark web.
Along with the photo of Holmberg with the newspaper was a note:
Open for negotiations. Send your representative.
Ramon said, “You want one of them to meet us?”
“I’m kind of hoping they send the president, but maybe she’s busy.” Bear got up and walked down the aisle to the back of the plane.
Ramon looked back at Holmberg. “I guess you’re not the one they wanted to talk to.”
“We all have our part to play.”
How many times had he heard that recently? Ramon was starting to feel like this was a theme from these guys. It reminded him of that quote that was supposed to have been said by Napoleon Bonaparte, “‘We are all either kings or pawns, emperors or fools.’”
Ramon didn’t like the sound of it. He’d rather be a king or emperor than a pawn or a fool. But how was a guy like him supposed to elevate his own life? Seemed more like you were either born at the top or at the bottom.
Could a guy at the bottom live life as a pawn but wind up on top in the end? Could he come up with a plan that subverted what they all thought was the natural order? That was the question.
Ramon had to figure out the answer.
He stared out the window again, thinking through it all. Wondering what kind of plan would net him that result. And whether he should pray, asking God for one. Seemed like He could drop that info into Ramon’s brain like a download—He was God, after all.
But Ramon was still himself.
A black dot appeared in the distance. He leaned toward the window, and the dot got bigger. “Are we expecting company?” he asked in a loud voice to the plane in general.
Bear raced down the aisle to the cockpit.
A second later, he reappeared. “Everyone, buckle up! Things are about to get hairy.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ramon kept watching out the window. One dot became two, and then the dots came close enough that he could make out fighter jets. “Did we catch an escort coming into US airspace?”
“I don’t think they’re here to escort us.” Bear sat across the aisle, directly in line with Holmberg, where Ramon could see the nerves on Bear’s face. The Norwegian might have missed that, but his expression had also changed.
TheDominatusaccountant was nervous.
“Is this a response to the request for negotiations?” Ramon shook his head. “Don’t tell meDominatushas some kind of policy of not negotiating with terrorists, or people who disagree with them.”
