The Emperor's Tomb

FOURTEEN

CASSIOPEIA ASSESSED WHAT VIKTOR HAD SAID ABOUT LEV Sokolov’s missing child. Again she asked, “Who do you work for?”

“When I left the Central Asian Federation, I headed east and ended up in China. I found lots of employment opportunities there.”

“Especially for a lying, double-dealing SOB like you.”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe you feel that way. What I did in Central Asia was my job. And I did it well. The mission objectives were all met.”

“And I was almost killed. Twice.”

“That’s the operative word. Almost. Again, I did my job.”

She knew he was avoiding the question. “Who do you work for?”

“I’m telling the truth. Karl Tang.”

“A bit of a drop for you. From the supreme president of the Central Asian Federation to China’s second in command.”

“He pays well, there’s health and dental and three weeks’ paid vacation. He’s starting a retirement plan next year.”

His humor did not interest her. “You sent those men after me two days ago?”

Viktor nodded. “We couldn’t let you leave Belgium with that lamp.”

“Why? Tang wanted it.”

“He has no intention of returning Sokolov’s boy. So he decided to take control of the lamp here.”

“Why not just go to Pau Wen himself? Or send you? Why me?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

She kept the gun leveled. “Honestly? Now there’s a word not in your vocabulary.” Her gaze zeroed in. “You tortured me.”

“I made sure you weren’t tortured.”

“Not from my perspective.”

The features on his face softened. “Would you rather have been waterboarded by someone who really meant it?”

He’d changed from a year ago. Though still short and burly, his shocks of then-unkempt hair had been replaced with a neat trim above the ears. The wide nose and deep-set eyes, from some Slavic influence, remained, but the skin was swarthier than in Central Asia. He was early forties, no older, and had shed baggy clothes, which had then concealed shoulders and arms obviously accustomed to exercise, for more stylish, and snugly fitting, trousers and a designer shirt.

“Where’s the boy?” she asked.

“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.”