The Emperor's Tomb

“Sokolov played the Russians. Now he’s playing the Chinese. And those two you don’t mess with, especially the Chinese. They kill with no repercussions, since they are the law.”

“We’re not in China.”

“But Sokolov is. Tang is looking for him. I assume you hid him away, but it’s only a matter of time before he’s found. Tang has spies by the tens of thousands, every one of whom want to please the first vice premier, perhaps even the man who will be the next premier of China. You or I don’t really matter in the overall scheme.”

She doubted that. “What are you doing for him?”

“Tang hired me last fall. He needed a non-Chinese operative, and I was between jobs. He didn’t have me working this particular assignment until I heard your name mentioned. When I explained my connection—with some necessary adjustments to the facts—Tang sent me here.”

She lowered the gun, her emotions riding a thin edge. “Do you have any idea what you put me through?”

“I had no choice. Tang gives the orders. I gave you an opportunity to escape yesterday when I had food brought, but you were asleep. I sent my compatriot in there a little while ago, hoping this time you’d act.” He pointed at the gun. “Which you apparently did. I was waiting here for you.” He motioned at the phone lying on the table. “The call was fake.”

“And what made you think I wouldn’t just leave?”

“Because you’re angry.”

This man knew her well. “Any more helpers around?”

“Just the one in your room. You hurt him?”

“It’ll leave a mark.”

“Cassiopeia, Karl Tang wants that lamp. Can’t you just give it to him and be done with this?”

“And lose that child? Like you say, my having that lamp is the only bargaining chip I possess. You said you know where the boy is being held. Tell me.”

“It’s not that easy. You’d never get near him. Let me help.”

“I work alone.”

“Is that why you involved Malone? And I knew you were lying on that one, but Tang made me make contact.”

“What happened in Copenhagen?”

“I haven’t heard from the two who were hired for the job. But with Malone, something bad surely happened to them both.”

She needed to call Denmark and explain. But not here. “Where are the keys to that car outside?”

“In the ignition.” He stood from the chair. “Let me go with you. I can’t stay. No matter what I say, Tang will hold me responsible for your escape. My job with him is over. I have good intel on his operation that could prove valuable.”

She considered the proposal. It actually made sense. No matter how she felt about Viktor Tomas, he was clearly resourceful. Last year, he’d cleverly managed to wedge amazingly close to the president of the Central Asian Federation. Now he was near Karl Tang, who held the key to reuniting Lev Sokolov with his son. No doubt she’d made a mess of things. She needed to retrieve the lamp, then broker a deal. So why not a little assistance from a man who could make direct contact with Tang?

And who knew where Sokolov’s child was located.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”

She stepped aside and allowed Viktor to leave first.

He reached for the cell phone and pocketed the unit. Just as he passed, headed for the door, she raised the gun above her head and slammed the butt into the base of his neck.

A moan seeped from his mouth as a hand reached upward.

She drove the gun’s hard metal into his left temple.

His eyes rolled skyward and he collapsed to the floor.

“Like I’m going to believe a word you say.”

FIFTEEN

SHAANXI PROVINCE, CHINA

11:40 PM

TANG WANDERED AMONG THE CLAY WARRIORS, KEEPING THEIR eternal guard. He’d left Pit 3 and returned to Pit 1. His expert was gone. The fact that the Pit 3 repository contained no Confucian texts, though all six should have been there, was telling. As was the silver watch, which he still held.

He’d suspected much had happened thirty years ago.

Now he knew.

Back then this region of Lintong County had been rural farmland. Everyone realized that the First Emperor lay beneath the hill-like mound that had stood there for the past 2,200 years. But no one had known of the underground army, and its discovery had led to a flurry of digging. For years workers toiled night and day removing layers of earth, sand, and gravel, photographing and recording the hundreds of thousands of shards. More workers then reassembled the shattered figures, one piece at a time, the fruits of their exhaustive labors now standing all around him.

The terra-cotta army had come to be regarded as a monumental expression of Chinese communal talents, symbolizing a unified state, a creative, compliant culture, a government that worked for and with its people.

A near-perfect symbolism.

One of the few times he’d agreed with using the past to justify the present.

But apparently, during all that digging, a cache of documents—Qin Shi’s lost palace library—had also been found.

Yet no one was told.

And a reminder of that omission remained.

A watch.

Left on purpose?

Who knew.

But given the person who’d most likely made the discovery, Tang could not discount anything.

Pau Wen.