The Emperor's Tomb (44 page)

"Take that trail," Tang said. "Make sure no one from here follows. Arrive at the hall unnoticed and enter with caution. I'm told there are few there, so you should be able to gain entrance easily. The main gates are left open."

"I'll cover your back," Viktor said. "But, Minister, you have a more immediate problem."

He didn't like the words or the tone. "Why do you say that?"

"Because Malone and Cassiopeia Vitt just drove into town."

CASSIOPEIA ADMIRED BATANG. WHITEWASHED ADOBE WALLS, red moon and sun designs above the doors, firewood and dung bricks piled on the roofs--all typical for the area. A mixture of Mongols, Chinese, Arabs, and Tibetans who, unlike the populations of their respective countries, had learned to live together. They'd just driven nearly two hours through a skeletal landscape, stripped to its rocky bones, across a rough road.

"My gut is still reeling from those rations," Malone said as they stepped from the Rover.

Along the way they'd found some food in the vehicle, rock-hard bars of cookie crumbs and milk powder mixed with what she thought was lard. Tasted like sweet cardboard. Her stomach was also upset from the bars and the jostling. Strange she'd get motion sick--one of those weaknesses she did not like to display or discuss--but firm ground felt good.

"Ni said the monastery is west of town," she said. "We're going to have to ask its location."

Guarded faces watched both her and Malone. Glancing up, she spotted two ravens tumbling over each other in the morning sky. The air had definitely thinned and to compensate she'd found herself breathing faster, but she told herself to stop, as that would solve nothing.

"Asking doesn't seem like a good idea," Malone said as he stood near the hood.

She agreed. "I don't think they get a lot of foreigners like us here."

TANG KEPT AWAY FROM THE GRIMY WINDOW, LOOSE IN ITS frame.

"Seems you were right about Malone," he said to Viktor. "He is a man to be respected."

"So is she."

He faced Viktor. "As you keep reminding me."

Frustratingly, his need of this foreigner seemed to never end. "I'm going to leave. Occupy those two until I am away from town."

"And what am I to do after I occupy them?"

"Make sure they head up into the mountains. Soldiers are there we can now use."

"And are those soldiers there for me, too?"

"Hardly. Since you know about them."

But he wondered if Viktor believed him. Hard to know anything about this guarded man. Always, something more seemed to percolate inside him. Like now. He'd come into the room knowing Malone and Vitt were here, yet he'd held that information until he was ready to reveal it.

Thankfully, by nightfall he would be rid of this man.

Along with all the others.

MALONE HEARD THE SOUND AT THE SAME TIME AS CASSIOPEIA. The rhythmic thump of rotors. Low, steady, hypnotic, like a heartbeat.

"That's a chopper," he said.

"Coming closer."

He strained into the ever-brightening sky and saw the craft, swooping in from the north, miles away. The helicopter cleared the peaks, then headed for a meadow of edelweiss beyond the edge of town. A distinctive green color and red star emblazoned on its side made clear its owner.

The People's Liberation Army.

"It's for Tang," a new voice said.

Malone turned.

Viktor stood ten feet away.

TANG FLED THE HOTEL THROUGH A REAR DOOR. ITS PROPRIETOR had been most accommodating, the few hundred yuan Viktor provided quelling any questions. He passed a carpentry shop, wood spinner, key maker, and tailor shop, following a rear alley that led straight to a meadow north of the town limits. Colorful edelweiss could be seen at the far end of the alley.

He heard the helicopter draw closer.

Malone and Vitt still being alive was a problem. They had been unknowns from the start, used for an advantage, but now they were drawing too close. And time was running out.

He found his phone and dialed his office, thankful for satellites unaffected by mountainous terrain. His chief aide answered immediately.

"Tell our friends in Islamabad that I want them to do as I asked."

"They are waiting to hear."

"Make sure they understand success is all that counts. Nothing less. Assure them I will not forget the favor."

"Still only one target?"

"No. Three. And I want them all eliminated."

Chapter
Seventy-TWO

MALONE STUDIED VIKTOR. A COIL OF ROPE OVER ONE SHOULDER, backpack on the other, a thick jacket zipped in front. "Where are you headed? As if I have to ask."

"What are you doing here?"

Cassiopeia stepped forward. "Tang has Ni and Sokolov."

"He already knows that," Malone said. "You're a busy guy. First, you kidnapped Cassiopeia, tortured her, let her escape, then allowed us to fly into a Chinese ambush. After that, you disappear and allow us to nearly get killed two more times. Now you're here."

"You're still alive, aren't you? I saved your sorry hide in that tomb."

"No. You saved Ni. That's part of your mission."

"You have no idea about my mission."

Malone saw the chopper rising into the morning sky. "Tang's leaving?"

"I have to go," Viktor said.

"So do we," Cassiopeia said.

"The Russians want to make sure Ni Yong is the next premier of this godforsaken place," Malone said. "And they want Sokolov back."

"Get real, Malone. You think they're the only ones who want that? Why do you think Stephanie Nelle was in Copenhagen? I'm working for her. She knew I had Cassiopeia. She okayed it. She wanted you involved. I'm not the manipulator here, I'm just a pawn on the board. As are you two."

The realization struck him hard. Stephanie had played him. Believe me, I hedged my bets. I'm not relying on Ivan 100 percent.

Now he knew what she'd meant.

"I'm just doing my job," Viktor said. "Do yours, or get the hell out of the way."

Malone grabbed Viktor's arm. "You risked Cassiopeia's life for this game."

"No, actually Stephanie did that. But lucky for us you were around to save the day."

He shoved Viktor back.

The coiled rope dropped from his shoulder at the same time Viktor's other arm slipped free of the backpack.

But Viktor did not retaliate.

"You enjoy killing that pilot?" Malone asked. "Blew him out of the sky. Was that part of your mission, too?"

Viktor stayed silent.

"You're a murderer," Malone said. "You killed that pilot for no other reason than to suck us in. To prove to us you were on our side. Then, as soon as we get to the tomb, there you are, trying to kill us again. One of those flashlights searching through that fog was yours."

Anger flared in Viktor's eyes.

"Did you enjoy torturing Cassiopeia? Taunting me with what was happening. You pour the water yourself?"

Viktor catapulted himself into Malone, pounding them both onto the Range Rover's hood. The street around them cleared as they rolled down to hard earth. Malone freed himself of the grip and sprang to his feet, but Viktor was faster, already up, planting a kick to the stomach.

The breath left him.

He recovered and swung, catching Viktor in the chest with a sweeping jab. He struggled with the thin air, breathing in heavy gasps, the exertion taxing his lungs, the world spinning. The lack of oxygen, combined with Viktor's blow, stunned him more than he'd expected.

He caught hold of himself, focused, and advanced.

Viktor stood his ground, but Malone was ready, dodging one blow, then another, ramming his right fist into Viktor's gut. He followed with two more blows. Like slugging stone, but he did not relent. An uppercut to the jaw and Viktor teetered on weak knees, then fell. He waited to see if Viktor would stand, but he remained down.

He sucked deep breaths. Damn this altitude. He turned and started back toward where Cassiopeia stood.

He never saw what hit him, but it was solid and delivered square across his spine. Pain doubled him over, his knees buckling. Another blow to his shoulders drove him forward, and he hit the pavement, then rolled, Viktor on top, grabbing two handfuls of his jacket, yanking him up.

"STOP," CASSIOPEIA YELLED.

She'd watched as Viktor had grabbed a shovel propped beside one of the shop doors and blindsided a retreating Malone. Then he'd followed the blow with another. Now he straddled a clearly woozy Cotton, ready to slam the back of his head into the pavement.

"Let him go," she said, staring hard into Viktor's angry eyes.

His breaths came quick and hard.

"Let him go," she said again, her voice lower.

"I told you next time it would be different," Viktor muttered as he released his hold and climbed off.

The spectators drifted off. Fight over. No police were in sight. She doubted this town employed any. Viktor moved toward his backpack, reshouldered it, then looped his left arm through the rope coil.

Cotton was reaching for his spine, still on the ground.

"Tang has ordered an attack on you," Viktor said. "From the Pakistanis. The border is up there on the route to the monastery. There are soldiers, waiting."

"You realize that he's probably ordered that attack for you, too," she said.

"The thought occurred to me. That's why I'm going up first. I'd prefer that neither one of you follow, but you're not going to listen to me, are you?"

"You're going to need some help."

"Malone was right. I risked your life too many times."

"And you also saved it."

"I'm not doing it again."

"Risking? Or saving?"

"Neither one, and since I know you won't stay here, the trail west of town leads to a suspension bridge. Beyond are some carvings that point the way to the hall. Wait an hour. That should give me time to do something. Maybe I can lead them off." Viktor pointed at Cotton. "He's not going to be ready to go till then anyway."

He started to leave.

She grabbed his arm and felt him shudder. "What are you going to do?"

"Why do you care?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

He gestured with his head toward Cotton.

"Why didn't you just tell me in Belgium that you were working for Stephanie?"

"It's not my way."

"Torturing me is?"

"Don't think I enjoyed that. I had no choice."

She saw the pain in his eyes and wanted to know, "Are you loyal to anything?"

"Myself."

But she wasn't fooled. "There's more to you than you want anyone to know."

He gestured again. "A lot like him."

Then she realized. "You wanted a fight here, didn't you?"

"I had to delay your departure. Tell him I regret the cheap shot, but it seemed the only way to slow you down."

"Are you here to kill Tang?"

"There are a lot of people who would be pleased with that. I had the chance, just a short while ago, to shoot him down."

"Why didn't you?"

"Too soon. I need to know what's up there in those mountains. Ni is up there. I have to get him out."

"What are you going to do with Sokolov?"

He did not answer her.

"You going to kill him?"

More silence.

"Tell me," she said, her voice rising.

"You're just going to have to trust me."

"I do."

"Then we'll be fine."

And he left.

Chapter
Seventy-THREE

NI ADMIRED HIS PRISON. THE BEDCHAMBER WAS SPECTACULAR. Marble columns sprouted upward toward a coffered ceiling, bas-relief dragons twisting from bottom to top. Frescoes on the walls depicted an emperor's journey, one wall showing him leaving his palace, the procession unfolding through the mountains along two more, and ending on the fourth at a cluster of buildings streaked with purple, gray, and shades of ocher, rising from the shoulder of the mountain.

Here. This exact place.

As depicted by the artist, and as Ni had seen flying in on the helicopter, glaciers brooding above a barren valley.

He and Sokolov had been flown straight from Yecheng. They'd been treated well, escorted from a landing pad outside the walls by two younger men adorned in woolen robes, their hair wound on top, secured with red tassels, red woven sashes wrapping their waists.

A butter lamp the size of a washbasin and fashioned of beaten copper burned in one corner, scenting the room. Windows hung open, cool air seeping inside, mellowing the flame's hypnotic influence. Occasionally, the distant bellow of a yak could be heard. He realized there was no danger of him escaping since the windows opened into a courtyard within the outer walls.