warlock Alexander Crowe.” Casca’s sudden appearance in the library startled Talon. Only rarely did someone manage to sneak up on him. This place was getting under his skin, dulling his normally razor-honed instincts.
“According to the legend, he inscribed his dark secrets in the blood of virgins.”
“I bet it was a bestseller in its day,” Talon said.
Casca raised an eyebrow. Talon winked. “I’m just kidding. You spoke with Becky?”
Casca nodded.
”What do you make of it?” Talon said.
“Omicron appears to be the cult’s origin point.”
Talon shook his head. “How is that possible? We’re talking about a giant tech conglomerate here.”
“How do you explain the mass suicides of the Jonestown massacre? Al Qaeda? ISIS? The dark power of any fringe organization comes from its message, and the conviction of its messenger.”
“Who is this messenger?” Talon said.
“That’s for us to find out.”
“What about the program Becky mentioned? The streaming of the murders?”
“Perhaps Omicron’s program is the 21st Century answer to the Grimoire.”
“Come again?” Casca had lost him.
“The warlock used the lifeforce of his victims to infuse the words on the page with occult power. Omicron might be developing a computer program that requires a similar level of sacrifice. Magic fueled by blood and suffering.”
Casca’s earnest tone gave Talon pause. He could feel his confusion growing. “I hope you don’t actually buy into all this crazy stuff.”
“Sergeant, do you know where the word ‘occult’ comes from?”
“Why do I have the feeling I’m about to find out?”
“It’s Latin. The direct translation is ‘knowledge of the hidden.’ Secrets. There are mysteries in this world. Questions with no answers.” Casca paused a beat before adding, “The dangers of the occult are real.”
“And you’re the guy who’s going to save the world from the boogeyman?”
“Perhaps we can save it together.”
Talon searched Casca’s face and what he saw disturbed him. The man wasn’t joking.
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
The intensity in the billionaire’s eyes answered the question far more eloquently than words ever could. “Come. Let’s see what else Ms. Oakes can tell us about our enemy.”
With these words Casca walked to the library’s exit.
Talon followed.
***
The screen shimmered and undulated with streams of complex computer code. Hypnotic waves of data washed over Talon and Casca, painting their faces a bluish tint.
Seated in Casca’s home office, they watched in expectant silence as Becky did her best to decipher the secrets of the dead cultist’s laptop now resting on Casca’s desk. The billionaire’s office was both elegant and masculine, dominated by brown leather and burnished wood. Two armchairs faced an antique desk that probably cost more than most people’s cars. A fireplace burned away in the corner, flickering flames bleeding crimson shadows across a number of classical sculptures and an illuminated globe. Detailed millwork added history to the timeless workspace.
Only thing missing is a box of cigars, Talon thought.
Studying Becky, he was surprised to see how quickly she’d recovered from her ordeal. The young woman was tough and determined to contribute in some way. Talon respected her fighting spirit. Even though Becky was an assistant she possessed a background in computer science and was certainly familiar with the Omicron product line. She might be able to help them gain a better understanding of the program these cultists were coding into existence.
“What are we looking at?” Talon asked.
“A piece of the larger program that these cult members are working on,” Becky explained. “The code is designed to work with Omicron’s Rapid framework and the large body of existing Objective-B programming language used by Omicron…”
Talon’s eyes were already beginning to glaze over.
“There’s something else going on here,“ Becky said. “Strange symbols unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”
Casca’s eyes widened as he scanned the archaic text spliced between the lines of computer code.
“What do you make of it?” Talon asked.
“It’s demonic, an ancient Egyptian script derived from the hieratic used in the Nile Delta.”
“English, please,” Talon said.
“Further study will be required before I can draw any definitive conclusions, but this code appears to contain incantations of some sort. Spells.”
“At least it makes sense now.” Talon fought the temptation to roll his eyes. They’d taken a sharp turn into the Twilight Zone. Flesh-and-blood fanatics were plotting their next horror while he wasted precious time with this nonsense. Talon steered the conversation back to the reality of the situation. “What do we know about Omicron and this Zagan character?”
“He’s a rock star in his field,” Becky said. Zagan’s story was a myth within the halls of Omicron. Like most tech companies, Omicron believed in instilling an evangelical