End Game (Will Robie #5)(55)

“So that’s your goal, overthrowing the United States.”

Dolph pulled his knife free. “I don’t have to overthrow the United States. I will never have the power to do that. But I just have to change the perspective of some in a few key places. That is all. People make it too complicated. I make it simple. And by making it simple my focus is complete and my odds of success are far greater. We are making terrific strides.”

“‘We’?”

“I’m affiliated with other organizations that share my core beliefs.” He patted the stock of Reel’s rifle. “We don’t do it with this. We do it by raising dark money to fund policies and candidates that we like. We even help write legislation. We have infiltrated legitimate political organizations, or found those already inside those organizations who are sympathetic to our goals. It is a wonderful thing. To have friends in power.”

He stopped and studied them. “You didn’t expect some asshole simplistically labeled a neo-Nazi to talk about organizational infrastructure, policies, strategic legislative endeavors, and dark money funding, did you?”

“No, we didn’t,” admitted Robie.

“I don’t go around screaming, ‘Heil Hitler!’ What would be the point? But by my playing dress-up and filling a cliché, as it were, people underestimate me. They put me in a little box and assume I will always be in that little box and not in the mainstream.”

“And then before the mainstream figures it out, there you are with a lot more force behind you,” said Robie.

Dolph nodded approvingly and pointed at Robie. “Now there is the nuance I was looking for. I take people underestimating me as a wonderful gift. Complacency by the masses is my greatest weapon. Did you know we have a very large social media platform? We have blogs and vlogs and online news organizations that communicate directly to our core population, which is growing exponentially every year. We get out the facts that need to be gotten out. Last week, our collective online clicks rivaled anything CNN or even Fox has been getting lately. It is tremendously exciting.”

“I can see it probably gets you off,” said Reel drily.

Before Dolph could respond, Robie said, “Global conquering aside, do you know Roger Walton?”

Dolph shook his head. “Who?”

“He disappeared from his cabin here about a week ago.”

“And why is this of interest to me?”

“It’s of interest to us.”

“And why should you think that anything should be of interest to you now?”

Here we go, thought Robie.

“So when do we get a bullet in the head like Holly?” asked Reel.

“It is timely that you ask that,” said Dolph. He hefted Reel’s rifle. “You mentioned just now that you and your comrade are the best shots I will ever meet. I need good marksmen, excuse me, markspeople.”

“That’s not going to happen,” said Reel.

Dolph ignored her and said, “I’m going to give you a chance to prove yourself and perhaps save your life at the same time.”

“How?” she asked.

In answer Dolph aimed the rifle at Robie. “A simple test. You shoot him, you live. You don’t, you both die. And the test commences now.”

He slammed his fist on the table.

The doors burst open and armed guards came in, seized Robie and Reel, and hauled them outside.

Dolph followed with the rifle.





CHAPTER





33


There was no blindfold.

There was no last cigarette.

There was no preacher with a Bible and a soothing scripture verse to give out to the condemned.

There was a concrete wall that Robie was hustled over to and made to stand in front of. He noted that it was splotched with blood and bullet pockmarks.

Every man in the place, including those on the watchtowers, was staring at the spectacle unfolding in front of them.

Fifty feet away Jessica Reel stood with Dolph next to her.

“I’m not going to shoot him,” she said.

“I think you may come around to it.”

“I won’t. So you can just put a bullet in my head now.”

He handed her the rifle and then placed the muzzle of his Walther against Reel’s temple.

“Aim the weapon,” he said.

Reel made no movement to do so.

Dolph pulled back the hammer on his pistol.

“Just pull it,” said Reel. “And fuck you.”

He called out to his men. “Shoot Mr. Robie first in the crotch. Then in the knee.”

He looked at Reel. “We’ll keep going, piece by piece, until he dies. Far better for you to just cleanly finish him off. And then you get to live.”

Robie looked at Reel. “Just do it, Jess. Pull the trigger.” He pointed to his heart. “Right here. No pain. Do it. Now. Better for me that way.”

A tear trickled out from Reel’s right eye. She lifted the rifle to her shoulder and sighted through the optics.

She placed her crosshairs on something she thought she never would.

Will Robie’s chest.

Her finger wavered and did not venture to the trigger guard. The first stopping place for it before it descended to the trigger, and from there to the trigger pull.