The Emperor's Tomb

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.