The Emperor's Tomb

“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.”

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.