The Emperor's Tomb

“You are the one no longer needed,” he told Pau.

“From that comment, I assume you have taken charge of the brotherhood? The Ba now answers to you?”

“As they have for the past decade. I am the only master they know.”

“But I am Hegemon. Their duly elected leader.”

“Who abandoned us, and this country, years ago. We no longer require your involvement.”

“So you ordered my death?”

“Why not? It seemed the right course.”

“I conceived this endeavor. From the beginning. You were but a young initiate, fresh to the Ba.”

“Is that when you found the Confucian texts at the terra-cotta warrior site?”

“What do you know of that?”

“The repository was rediscovered a few days ago. Your watch was found inside.”

“So I did lose it there,” Pau said. “I long suspected. But of course I intended on returning and examining that chamber further. Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity.”

“Why did you remove only the Confucian texts?”

“To preserve them. If Mao’s research fellows and archaeologists had discovered them, they would never have survived. Mao despised Confucius.”

“The library is gone. Burned.”

“You are no better than they were.”

He resented the insolent tone. “I am not a young initiate any longer. I am first vice premier of the People’s Republic of China. Poised to be the next premier and president.”

“All because of me.”

He chuckled. “Hardly. You have been gone for a long time. We have implemented your plan without your assistance. So stay in your refuge, safe in Belgium. China has no use for you.”

“Your nemesis, though,” Pau said, “is returning home far wiser. Minister Ni now knows of the Ba

. He may well prevent you from succeeding.”

“Ni is no match for me.”

“But I am.”

“There is no legal way for you to reenter China. No visa will be issued. On that, I have absolute control. The few brothers you have at your disposal there will be barred from returning, too.”

“Not everyone supports you,” Pau made clear.

He knew that could well prove true, but he was counting on success to win over any doubters.

“I have enough. Live short, Pau.”

He ended the call.

There was nothing more to say.

A lesson he’d been taught long ago, during his training to become a brother, came to mind.

Never signal your intentions

.

He smiled.

Not necessarily.

THIRTY-FOUR

NI STROLLED THROUGH PAU WEN’S EXHIBIT HALL, WAITING for his host to return. When they’d arrived back at the compound, Pau had excused himself. On the drive from Antwerp, Ni had called Beijing and spoken with his chief assistant, telling him he wanted an immediate report on Karl Tang’s activities. Contrary to what Pau Wen might think, Ni had been watching Tang for some time, employing spies embedded deep within the first vice premier’s office. Still, never had anyone spoken of eunuchs or the Ba.

He already knew Tang had left the capital yesterday, ostensibly to meet with local officials in Chongqing, but the true purpose of his journey had been to oversee the death sentence of a man named Jin Zhao, whose treason conviction had recently been upheld by the Supreme People’s Court. He’d instructed his chief assistant to learn more about Zhao’s case, along with Tang’s interest in the man’s death.

The vibration of his cell phone startled him. His staff had been fast, as usual. He answered, hoping that Pau would be delayed at least a few minutes more since this conversation must be private.

“Jin Zhao was an experimental geochemist who worked under the Ministry of Geological Development,” his aide reported. “He supposedly passed sensitive information about oil exploration to the Russians.”

“What type of information?”

“The record is silent. State secret.”

“And the Russian agent?”

“No mention.”

“Was the information actually passed?”

“No. An attempt thwarted, or so the trial record notes. However, the name you provided, Lev Sokolov, was also mentioned during the proceedings.”

He’d taken Pau’s advice and asked his office for a dossier on and current whereabouts of Lev Sokolov.

“He’s a Russian expatriate who worked with Jin Zhao at a petrochemical research facility in Lanzhou, a lab under the direct jurisdiction of the Ministry of Geological Development.”

Which meant Karl Tang controlled the facility.

“Were Zhao and Sokolov colleagues?”

“They were working on an experimental project relative to advanced oil exploration. That’s what the facility’s budget reveals. Beyond that, we learned no details.”

“Learn them,” he said. He knew there were ways, especially in his department.

He listened as he was told about Tang’s busy night, traveling from Chongqing to the terra-cotta warrior site. Interestingly, a portion of one of the display pits had been destroyed by a fire, preliminarily blamed on an electrical short. Tang had been gone when the destruction occurred, flown to an oil exploration site in northern Gansu. Nothing out of the ordinary there, as Tang oversaw the nation’s entire oil exploration program.