by Alex Archer
Two of his men joined him, letting him know the downstairs rooms were secure. They followed, silent as shadows.
Annja Creed's door was locked.
Huangfu debated only a moment between picking the lock or breaking the door down. Stepping into the hallway, he set himself and drew back a leg. Then he kicked, putting his weight behind the effort.
The door frame splintered. Wood facing snapped like kindling and screws screeched as they pulled loose from their moorings.
With the tranquilizer pistol raised before him, Huangfu rushed into the room, arms braced in a defensive square, the pistol close to his body. Even then he was almost caught flatfooted when the woman turned on him with amazing speed.
She had her backpack over her shoulder, but Huangfu wasn't clear on whether she'd heard them coming or had been ready to leave. She drew her right hand back like she was going to throw something in a sidearm motion, but her hand was empty.
Only it wasn't empty after all.
Huangfu didn't know how he'd missed the sword she was swinging. The long blade whistled through the air, barely missing the wall, and arced straight for his throat. He stumbled back and lifted the tranquilizer gun to defend himself.
Metal grated harshly, hurting Huangfu's ears and making his teeth ache. The impact tore the pistol from his hands and left most of his fingers numb. He crashed back against the two men behind him, all of them going down.
Annja Creed turned from them, fleeing toward the bathroom. As she ran, the sword vanished like it had never been there.
Although Huangfu had never been a believer in the old legends of monsters and magic, the hair at the back of his neck stood. Something had touched him and left his hand numb. Blood on his wrist leaked from a shallow cut that had grazed his skin. Something had touched him that was suddenly no longer there, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.
Cursing, Huangfu drew his pistol from his shoulder holster and took aim as he scrambled to his feet. He fired, knowing he was rushing the shot.
In full flight, Annja ran through the open bathroom door, put a foot on the edge of the tall tub, and launched herself at the translucent glass. She ducked her head and threw an arm in front of her just before she hit.
She fully expected to rebound from the glass like a sparrow hitting a storm door. It was possible that Verna had installed impact-resistant glass. But there was no other way out.
The glass shattered when she hit it and she hoped she didn't get cut to pieces as she went through and out onto the slanted roof. The brightness slammed into her with almost the same physical intensity as the window.
Her heart thumped wildly. She was surprised that Huangfu and his men had invaded the bed-and-breakfast. She couldn't believe they'd taken that kind of chance. But that only meant they knew more about the belt plaque than she did.
She didn't have time to be surprised or curious or even scared, because she was sliding for the edge of the roof, riding a wave of cascading glass shards.
Huangfu shoved his pistol through the broken window and fired at her. Bullets ripped across the shingles near Annja's head. Two of the shingles slid free and skidded over the roof's edge. Annja pushed herself forward, knowing she had no choice. She leapt from the roof, controlling her descent and throwing herself forward so she wouldn't land in the rosebushes behind the bed-and-breakfast.
Her boots hit the soft earth and she dropped to her knees, catching herself on her hands. Nothing's broken. Get up and run, she told herself. She pushed herself up, noticing the shadow growing on top of the house. She veered to her right just as more gunshots rang out.
Doubling back close to the bed-and-breakfast Annja streaked for the parking area. The deputy was there. Her car was there. She only hoped Huangfu hadn't left a guard there.
She paused at the corner of the building for just a moment. Behind her, caught in the corner of her eye, Huangfu hung over the roof's edge and pointed his pistol at her again.
Annja went forward as bullets chipped the corner of the building above her head. She ran for the deputy's cruiser, not sure the man was still in his vehicle.
Peering through the windshield, Annja saw the deputy sprawled across the seat. She didn't know if he was alive or dead. She kept running.
Using the electronic key fob, Annja popped the locks on her rental SUV, clawed the door open, and slid inside. She started the engine, then dropped the transmission into gear. Rubber shrieked as she stomped on the accelerator and roared toward the street.
One of Huangfu's men stepped in front of the SUV and took aim with his pistol. The windshield spiderwebbed.
Annja never slowed. The man tried to dodge away at the last moment, but the SUV caught him from the side in a glancing blow and spun him away.
Pulling hard on the wheel, Annja powered out onto the street in a controlled slide. She fought the wheel just for a moment as the SUV fishtailed. Dodging cars, she headed for the highway as quickly as she could.
She didn't even think about going back for the belt plaque. Annja knew she was better off leaving that mystery unsolved. She sped out of town, wondering if Huangfu and his men would pursue her or if they'd be content with their prize.
"Is Verna okay?" Annja held her phone close as she spoke. She'd driven the SUV down a dirt side road only ten miles out of Georgetown. She assumed Sheriff Barfield would have put an APB out on her and the vehicle. She couldn't crawl out of her own skin, but she could ditch the rental.
"Where are you, Miss Creed?" Barfield sounded more than a little irritated.
"Safe. For the moment." Annja looked around at the sheltering trees and wondered how long it would be before she would feel safe.
"You need to come back to town and let's get this thing sorted out." Barfield sounded adamant.
"Huangfu Cao tried to kill me." Annja knew some of her own raw anger sounded in her words. "Again."
"I want to know why."
"Believe me, Sheriff, so do I." The only thing Annja could come up with was the fact that Huangfu knew she took pictures of him and possibly the belt plaque. "In fact, you might want to put Harry Kim and his daughter under protective custody for a few days."
"Why would I want to do that?" the sheriff asked.
Annja paced as she talked, then finally decided that she wasn't leaving in the SUV anyway and she might as well put some miles between herself and the vehicle. She headed back toward the highway three miles distant.
"Because I showed them something."
Barfield covered the mouthpiece with a hand, but Annja could still hear his gruff voice. When he returned to the conversation with her, he sounded even more put out. "What did you show them?"
"A belt plaque I recovered from the grave last night."
"Why didn't you mention that last night?" Barfield shouted.
"I wanted to know what it was," Annja said.
"If this guy Huangfu wanted to kill you for it – "
"I don't know if that's why he tried to kill me last night."
Barfield's tone took on a decidedly sarcastic note. "Maybe it was the reason he tried to kill you today."
"I think he tried to kill me today because he believes I took pictures of the belt plaque."
"Did you?"
"Of course."
"I'd like to see those pictures."
Annja gave him the Web site posting.
"That's not what I meant. I want to see those pictures and you."
"Do you have an arrest warrant out on me? For trying to escape an execution?" Annja tried to dump as much I-can't-believe-you're-serious into her voice as she could.
"We can protect you, Miss Creed."
"Is your deputy still alive?"
Barfield took a breath and it rasped over the phone. "They drugged him."
"You'll understand if I'm not exactly wowed by your offer of protection."
"At this point, Miss Creed, you're considered a person of interest. But I can get an arrest warrant for you."
"Did you catch H
uangfu?"
Barfield hesitated.
"I gather the answer is no. In that case, I'm not coming back there just because you want to talk to me. I've told you everything I know. Having me there isn't going to do anything but endanger my life. I just wanted to know that Verna and the other guests at the bed-and-breakfast were all right."
"They're fine. No one was hurt."
Annja relaxed a little. "Good. I'm glad. You have my phone number if you want to reach me, but I'm not coming back. And I'm not going to answer your call again until I talk to a lawyer."
Annja ended the call and tucked the phone into her backpack. She retrieved a bottle of water from one of the side pockets. She sipped water as she continued walking, and she thought about the belt plaque, wondering what secrets it actually held.
No one would go to the lengths Huangfu had without something important being involved. Annja just couldn't imagine what it might be. But she knew she was going to try to find out.
Chapter 14
The note was dated only a few days earlier, and Kelly recognized it as being written by her father. She looked at Tse Chu-yu. "Have you read this?"
"Your father did not ask me not to."
Kelly turned her attention back to the note.
Dearest Daughter,
I wish things had ended differently. If you're getting this letter, it means I didn't get to see you. I regret that, and I hope that you don't think too badly of me.
Hot tears burned Kelly's cheeks. Her vision blurred and she had to blink them away to keep reading.
This has all been a surprise to me. This bag that Tse Chu-yu has given you is a legacy given to me by my father's grandfather.
He was a very old man, and very wise, when I knew him as a child. Many in the village where he lived thought him insane. Those were unkind thoughts from people who knew no better.
Your great-great-grandfather was not a learned man. Just one who knew his way in the world. He hung on to legends and myths more than anyone else I ever knew. And he knew magic. At least, to me as a boy, I felt certain it was magic.
Kelly held on to her emotions with an iron grip. Across from her, Tse Chu-yu sat quietly.
The bag before you offers a puzzle. I'm not certain of its true origins, but I will give you the story my great-grandfather gave me all those years ago.
When I was twelve, not yet a man in my father's eyes, I saw my great-grandfather a final time before he died. He was very sick and I knew that his time in this world was at an end. As he lay there, taken by fever, he pressed this bag of bones into my hands and told me that he was going to tell me a story that he had never told anyone.
As I listened to him, I thought him sick with the fever that was slowly taking his life. His stories were wild and improbable. He said that one of our ancestors belonged to a group of assassins thousands of years ago, during the time of the Emperor Ling.
These assassins were of great value to the emperor and other men of power. They were specialists in silent death. They had their own poisons. I found the stories quite fascinating.
For hours, in his weak and failing voice, he told me how feared the assassins were throughout Asia and Eastern Europe. He also said that they were hunted. Though they did the emperor's work, and took on tasks from the warlords, everyone they did business with feared them, as well. After all, the assassins could just as easily turn on those who had hired them only the day before.
The city of assassins lay somewhere along the Silk Road. They charged trade caravans for safe passage along sections of the road.
For years they lived in such a manner, and the collection of wealth grew larger. They lived in a cave, somewhere underground in the shifting sands of the desert.
And it was there that they died. I do not know how. Our ancestor died there, too. At least, it is believed that he did. Before he did, though, he gave that bag of bones to his wife and bade her keep hold of it. If he did not return, she was to give the bag of bones to their oldest son and tell him that the bones would show him the way to the treasure.
That child became a man, and the man searched for his father to no avail. It was as if the desert had swallowed him.
And so it has been for generations. There have always been sons in our family to pass this bag on to.
Now I have you.
I've searched for the answer to the bag of bones, though I have not let myself be consumed by it. Until lately, I thought perhaps the story was only that – a story. But now a man has found out about this bag of bones. A very wealthy and powerful man who is accustomed to getting his way.
It was this man's zeal to find this bag of bones that I'd never told anyone about that convinced me the tales of the treasure might be true.
I still don't know how this man discovered that I had this bag. But he has, and it could end my life.
I know you are grieving for me, Kelly.
For a moment Kelly couldn't continue. She breathed out and fought to keep the overwhelming emotions at bay.
She blinked, wiped her face, and began to read again.
Keep the bag of bones safe. See if you can ferret out the truth behind them.
I have always loved you, and I love you still. I will be with you always.
Your Devoted Father
Kelly read the letter through twice more, hoping to find some indication of who the wealthy and powerful man might be. Frustrated, she looked at Tse Chu-yu.
"Ngai killed my father for this?" She pointed at the bag of bones. "Something out of a child's fairy tale?"
"No." The old man spoke softly. "Ngai killed your father because he believed in the bones."
"That's stupid."
"Perhaps. But your father believed also. That's why he refused to sell them to Ngai."
Kelly closed her eyes as her senses whirled. Images of her father kept spinning inside her mind. It was stupid to die for them, too, Father. She felt guilty the instant she thought that.
Trembling, Kelly worked on her breathing. She had been trained to handle this. She didn't have to be overcome by her emotions.
But she had existed for months, almost a year, since her betrayal. She'd lived in shadows and watched everyone around her. That had been no way to live, but it had been the only way she could survive. She had lived in small rooms and taken on bloody, dangerous work that had bordered on outlaw behavior. If she'd had a choice, she wouldn't have ever done most of the things she'd done.
"Your father was a brave man." Tse Chu-yu's words drew Kelly back to the present.
"No." Kelly's voice was hollow. "He was a foolish man."
"He thought he was giving you a future."
"He threw away his life."
Tse Chu-yu frowned at her. "My friend didn't act just for you, niece." The old man only addressed her by that borrowed relationship when he was irritated with her and intended rebuke. "He also acted for the honor of his ancestors, for all those who had died protecting the secret he gave you."
Kelly returned the old man's steel-hard stare. "Do you believe this story?"
"If your father did, then, yes. I choose to believe it, too."
"What if it turns out to be false?"
Tse Chu-yu considered for a moment. "For every tale that is told, there is always a kernel of truth. If you wish to know the truth of this, then you must seek it out."
Kelly was quiet for a moment. "When you read this letter, were you tempted?"
The old man paused, then nodded. "Yes. I still am."
"Then either you respected and loved my father more than the thought of an immense treasure, or you don't believe in the story much."
"You've become very cynical."
"It's a cynical world."
"Perhaps you are more my niece than you are your father's daughter."
Kelly felt like she'd been slapped. She had never known what had drawn the two men together, especially when she'd gotten older and figured out what it was that Tse Chu-yu actually did.
"Do not dishonor your fath
er's memory. He loved your mother, you, and his music. In that order. I will not allow you to so casually dismiss his feelings in this matter." The old man's face was stern. "If you will not try to find out the secret of those bones, then give them to me and I will." He held out his hand.
Angry, hurting, Kelly grabbed the bag and almost thrust it out to him. Tse Chu-yu knew it, too. His eyes glinted, but she didn't know if it was in anticipation or disappointment.
Finally, Kelly put the bag of bones into her jacket pocket. She took another breath and centered herself, getting focused. "The men I killed in my father's house had tattoos. I think they were Triad men."
Tse Chu-yu nodded. "Ngai Kuan-Yin has men like that who work for him."
So did most Chinese corporations, Kelly knew. The Triad served not only in illegal matters, but as security and labor enforcement, as well.
"Both men had distinctive tattoos on their right forearms." Kelly touched her arm to show where. "They were of a great winged dragon holding koi in its claws."
"I know those men. They belong to the Razor Claws."
"Do you know where I can find them?"
Chapter 15
Annja headed southwest toward Sacramento. She had no intention of going back to Georgetown. Returning there meant lawyers and delays, and she hadn't done anything wrong. She hadn't left any bodies behind that needed explaining. She's simply escaped.
The day warmed, but the season was still cool and the altitude kept some of the heat at bay.
She stayed within the forested area that lined the highway. Twice, she'd seen vehicles marked with the sheriff's department logos pass by. She'd been out of sight both times.
Sheriff Barfield, or someone in his office, continued to call on a regular basis. Annja ignored the attempts to contact her. She didn't have anything further to say until she found out exactly where she stood.
Doug Morrell called in the afternoon. Bored and wanting to hear a friendly voice, Annja took the call.
"Hello, Doug."
"Ah, my favorite fugitive."