by Chris Angus
“He doesn’t find it a bit strange that all of us will be going?” asked Alan.
“Perhaps. But he’s young and pretty excited about being in charge. Besides, if all goes according to plan, we’ll only have to be away for . . . what? A week, Eric?”
“Maybe less than that. A day to make the drive over these roads. Then we stash the truck and cover the rest on foot or horseback . . . another day, if we make good time. A day to extract the body. The variable is that we don’t know precisely where the body is. If I’d had a GPS with me at the time, I could lead us straight there. As it is, we’ve got to find it. And there could be other people around that we’ll have to avoid. God help us if we find some group camped right next to the thing.”
They contemplated that possibility in silence.
“It all sounds like a piece of cake,” said Duncan. “But we’re overlooking one little detail.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Horny Huang,” he said.
Indeed, Huang was the elephant in the room no one wanted to talk about. He’d shown up twice already in three days, dropping from the sky with no more warning than a scud missile, to follow Diana around like a puppy. Each time, he showed no interest in leaving until Marcia fabricated some assignment for Diana that took her out of camp.
“How the hell can we all disappear for a week—or more—without Huang knowing about it? It’s impossible.”
Marcia looked at Eric. “You got any ideas about that?”
Logan put his glass down. He’d managed only a third of the scorching drink so far. “I’ve thought about it a lot. It’s a serious issue. I considered sabotaging the chopper somehow to keep him away for a while. But it’s tricky. I don’t want to actually kill the little guy and his pilot. We could fabricate some story about investigating another site, but what’s to keep him from asking where so he can fly to it?” He spread his hands. “Frankly, I’m still at a loss, and we’re running out of time.”
Marcia looked up the hill. She could see Diana and Harry returning. They’d be back in a few minutes. Harry, at least, would not be a problem with regard to whatever they planned. He’d taken a flurry of pictures and was scheduled to leave the next day for another assignment.
“Look,” said Leeanne. “The answer is fucking obvious, and it’s coming this way.”
Everyone stared at her.
“For Christ’s sake, Horny Huang’s got the hots for Diana, right? So send her on some chore to Urumqi, something that will take a few days. Huang will park his helicopter and follow her around the city like she was his own private wet nurse.”
They all stared at her in stunned silence. “My God, it might just work!” said Marcia. She looked at Logan.
“If she’ll agree to go,” he said. “She’s supposed to be here to make a documentary. She’s not going to want to go off shopping for a week. Hell, she’ll probably want to be included in the off-site explorations once she hears about them. From what I’ve observed, she’ll never do it. She’d know Huang would shadow her the entire time. What if she just got sick of it and decided to come back early? It would be a disaster.”
“I agree,” said Marcia. “There’s only one way it will work. We’ll have to tell her the real reason why we’re here.”
“Now wait just a minute!” said Logan. “I’m supposed to keep a lid on this mission. She’s a reporter, for God’s sake, the last person we want knowing what we’re up to.”
“How about if we offered her an exclusive?” asked Alan. “You know, she gets to report the whole story if she agrees not to do it until the mission is over.”
“This thing isn’t over, as you put it,” said Logan, “once we’re out of the country. It may just be beginning. The scientists are going to have to examine the body, then the president is going to have to decide what the results mean and what action, if any, to take. The last thing he’ll want is the Chinese screaming about our stealing their cultural treasures and spiriting them out of the country. The story blackout will have to go on for an indefinite period of time. Do you honestly think she’d agree to that? Would any reporter?”
“You won’t know unless you ask her,” said Leeanne.
Marcia stared into her cup. “We’ve got to risk it. Every day we procrastinate is another day the body may melt out and disappear. Unless someone has another idea with a snowball’s chance in hell of working, I’m going to ask her. And since she’s here, there’s no time like the present.”
“No time like the present for what?” asked Diana, climbing onto the Observation Deck. She poured herself a cup of Marcia’s poisonous brew and took a sip. Her face was flushed from the hike. She had on short shorts and all the men tried studiously not to look at her legs, which were tanned and muscular. Harry had gone on to his tent to deposit his cameras.
“Sit down, Diana,” said Marcia. “And take a few more pulls at your martini. There’s something we’d like to talk to you about.”
Ten minutes later, Diana’s cheeks were no longer flushed and her drink sat untouched beside her. She’d not said a word during Marcia’s presentation. Now she stood, walked to the edge of the Observation Deck and stared down at the family group.
“Holy shit!” she said.
“That’s certainly one way of putting it,” said Marcia.
“Let me see if I’ve got this right. You want me to spend a week leading Huang around on a leash in Urumqi while the rest of you go melt a body out of a glacier and take it out of the country without anyone finding out about it.”
“In a nutshell,” said Marcia.
“And if I manage to do this, hopefully without getting raped or thrown in jail in the process, I’ll be allowed to report the story exclusively, oh, sometime in the next five or ten years. Gee, what a great deal for me.”
“Listen, you’re a reporter, Diana,” said Marcia. “Think of it this way: not only will you eventually get one of the great stories of this or any other age, but there will be a book that will cement your place in history and probably make you a hell of a lot of money to boot.”
Diana surveyed the little group, her gaze coming to rest on Logan. He tried to meet it, but couldn’t and looked away.
“What do you think?” she asked him.
He stared at the ground for several moments, then looked back up at her. “I don’t like it. Someone’s got to be up front with you. What we’re asking is God-damned dangerous, in the ways you mentioned and probably in a lot of ways we haven’t even thought of. You didn’t sign up for this like the rest of us. You’re under no obligation to do it. If I were you I’d probably tell us to go blow it out our asses.” He paused. “But here’s the thing. It’s also pretty damned important. Probably the biggest thing you’ll ever be asked to do in your life. So I want you to sleep on it. Don’t answer now. Give us your decision in the morning.”
Diana looked at him for a long time. “All right,” she said quietly. “Tomorrow.”
She left them staring after her as she went down the hill, the spring that had been in her step on the way up now nowhere to be seen.
After dinner, which was notable mostly for Diana’s absence, Logan went back up to the Observation Deck alone to watch the sun set over the desert. He nursed a tin cup filled with strong black coffee.
The enormous dunes of the Taklamakan rose hundreds of feet. They looked like something that belonged in the deepest Sahara and seemed out of place here on the cold, high plateau of central Asia. He’d crossed the sands once before, years ago in a caravan, perched on a camel and dressed like an Arabian mullah, in order to smuggle a defector out of China. For a while, they’d been lost in the whirling sands, and it had been a near thing they hadn’t perished.
The dunes cast eerie, long shadows like a hundred fingers pointing at him accusingly. He hardly needed any more assistance with the guilt he was already feeling. He was certain Diana didn’t have a clue what she would be getting into if she went along with this crazy scheme. He had half a mind to go down and talk her
out of it while there was still time.
He could see her tent below in the dwindling twilight, a little apart from the rest. As he watched, a lantern was lit in the interior, and he could see her moving around inside.
Most of the others had assembled in the large tent that served as an after-hours gathering place where cards were played and drinks flowed to help pass the quiet, endless evenings that marked every archaeological dig since probably the beginning of science.
He saw movement near Diana’s tent and watched as a dark figure approached it. He couldn’t make out who it was and continued to watch, beginning to feel a bit uneasy. Whoever it was stopped near the rear of her tent and seemed to be trying to see inside. Then, a moment later, the figure slipped in through the open flap.
Logan sat up, uncertain. No cry of alarm sounded. He saw no movement inside. He sat back, took a sip of coffee and kept his eyes on the tent. After two or three minutes, he suddenly saw the side of the tent billow out and he could hear voices growing louder, arguing. Then he saw black figures embrace and begin to struggle.
In an instant, he threw his cup aside, sprinted down the hill and burst into the tent. Diana was lying on the ground trying to push Duncan off her. Logan grabbed him, literally lifting him up by the scruff of the neck and threw him outside with one motion. He headed after him.
Diana yelled at him, “No, Eric! Don’t hurt him. Let him go.”
He hesitated, which gave Duncan enough time to scurry away into the darkness. He turned back to the tent.
“Are you all right?”
She was sitting up on her cot. Her shirt was torn, but otherwise she appeared none the worse for wear. “I’m okay. Thanks. He said he wanted to talk to me, but it quickly got clear what he really wanted. I think he was a little out of control and had too much to drink. I probably should have handled the situation better once I saw where it was going.”
He stared at her. “That sounds like the classic case of the victim saying it was her fault.”
She managed a little laugh. “Yeah. I can’t believe I said that either. Still, he’s just a kid. I knew he was interested in me and he’s lonely. Sometimes guys get like that, you know. Testosterone is a powerful drug.”
He shook his head, surprised at her relaxed attitude. “Maybe you are capable of handling Huang. I was actually thinking about coming and trying to talk you out of this thing. Now I’m not sure. Huang’s an officious little bastard who has a taste for power . . . and for you. He might not be so easy to fight off.”
“Are you kidding? I’ll just sit on him. He won’t be able to move. I probably outweigh him by thirty pounds.”
“Don’t underestimate him. Little guys can be wiry and strong. And he’s probably not above hiring a couple of thugs to hold you down. I’m not kidding, Diana. This is important, but you need to think about how you’ll feel if you’re raped by him. Because if you take this job, I’d say there’s an excellent chance it could happen.”
She stared at him. “Would it bother you?”
“Of course it would bother me. I’d be responsible.”
She began to shiver slightly. “Logan, would you just do one thing for me?”
“What?”
“Lie down and hold me for a minute. I could use that right now.”
It was against his better judgment, but he did it. She was warm and firm and her breath smelled of martinis and mint chewing gum, which for some reason he found unbelievably sweet. After about ten minutes, she murmured, “Thanks. Guess I need to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
He disengaged from her reluctantly, pulled a blanket over her and slipped outside. He turned immediately to Duncan’s tent, where a lantern had appeared. Without announcing himself, he barged in.
Duncan was lying on his bed and his eyes grew wide at the sight of Logan. He started to get up, but Logan pushed him back on the bed.
“Shut up and listen,” he fumed. “I’m going to put this down, at Diana’s insistence, to too many martinis. But if you ever try a stunt like that again, I’ll take you apart. You can count on it. At the moment, Diana may be the most important person on this mission. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the least.” He started to leave, then turned back. “One more thing. For the rest of our time together, consider yourself a Muslim. If I see you drinking alcohol again, I’ll pour the stuff into your least favorite orifice.”
He climbed back up to the Observation Deck and sat heavily. The intensity of his emotions had surprised him. He wondered if his feelings for Diana might be stronger than he’d realized. As he contemplated leaving her to the tender mercies of Huang, he felt the taste of bile rise in his mouth.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DR. CHARLES WOKOWSKI leaned across his young assistant and peered out the window of the plane. Below, in a haze of faintly purple pollution, sprawled the vast expanse of Beijing.
“It’s a little intimidating,” said the aide. Her name was Paula Davis, and despite her youth, she was one of the most experienced chemists on the CDC’s staff.
“Every time I begin one of these, I feel intimidated, but it’ll pass once we get to work,” Wokowski said.
“Assuming we’re allowed to work.”
“If we’re rejected, then it’s likely the problem isn’t as bad as we feared. We’ll have learned that much. But if things have really gone south, then I predict those on the ground will welcome us with open arms. Either way, we should know in very short order how serious the problem is down there, which is precisely what the president had in mind by sending us.”
Although there had been no official announcement about their arrival, somehow word had leaked anyway. Dr. Wokowski and his staff of six doctors and scientists, several of whom had been seconded to him from the World Health Organization, were met at the terminal and courteously shepherded into a private lounge by several dark-suited Chinese who said nothing more than, “This way, please.”
Tea and assorted snacks had been put out on a table. “Might as well make ourselves comfortable,” Wokowski said, “while they figure out what to do with us.”
After twenty minutes, a door opened and two Chinese officials entered. One was a military figure who took up position by the door. The other, a man of perhaps forty, walked over to Wokowski and offered his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor. Your reputation is well known by people in my profession. My name is Wang Bingua. I’m the Minister of Health for Beijing. I’m afraid I must inquire what you and your companions are doing here.”
Wokowski smiled. “Would you believe, vacationing?”
Bingua’s face remained neutral, but there was a slight crinkling of his eyes. “That would seem unlikely,” he replied.
“Let me put it to you directly, then, sir. My government is concerned about the viral outbreak that has struck a number of your cities. We would like to help.”
“Very kind of you, but I can assure you no help is required. Everything is under control. We appreciate your concern and you may convey that to President Klein. We’ll arrange for your return flight at once.”
Wokowski smiled enigmatically. “I’m getting up in years, sir. Could we sit down for a few minutes?”
Bingua hesitated, then nodded and sat at the table.
“I’ve dealt with situations such as these all around the world. I understand the fears and suspicions that arise. That’s why we’re here to help in an unofficial capacity. By this I mean no announcement has been made of our mission here. We’ll work alongside your own doctors. We’ll make no press announcements whatsoever. Our goal—our only goal—is to help resolve the difficulties you face.”
“A most kind offer, Doctor . . .”
Wokowski raised one hand. “Please allow me to finish. If, on the other hand, we are summarily sent home, there will of course have to be an international news conference during which the Chinese fears and reluctance to allow outside doctors to review what is going on will be discussed openly and at length. Our State Department will issue a warning to
all tourists and business people planning to travel to China. And international health agencies around the world will be alerted to the fact that China is not a safe place in which to travel.”
Bingua’s face grew longer and longer. “I assure you none of that is necessary. It’s true we’ve had a few cases of avian flu, but a strict quarantine has controlled the outbreak. All known cases are now contained within a single hospital facility on the outskirts of Beijing.”
“Wonderful. That should be very helpful. We won’t have to travel any farther by plane. My assistant doesn’t like planes.” He nodded at Paula who attempted to turn her concerned look into an expression of nausea, which wasn’t far off the mark in any case.
“We’d like to examine your quarantined cases at once,” Wokowski continued. “Perhaps we can offer some new ideas.” He stood up. “There’s no time to waste, Mr. Wang, don’t you agree?”
The Chinese stared at him, his face a mix of emotions, including indecision and, Wokowski felt quite certain, fear. It was the fear behind the eyes that worried him. It was the first real sign that things were indeed far from under control.
Bingua stood up slowly. “Please wait,” he said, and abruptly left the room.
“What do you think he’s going to do?” asked Paula.
“He doesn’t have the authority to make the decision. He’s passing on my words to someone higher up. We may have a fairly long wait while the bureaucracy grinds, I’m afraid.”
In fact, however, it was less than ten minutes before Bingua returned. He seemed more relaxed than he had been earlier, and even relieved.
“We are pleased to accept your president’s kind offer of assistance.” He beamed. “Unfortunately, we must search your briefcases and persons for cell phones. We do appreciate your offer to respect a press blackout while you are here.”
“That is acceptable,” said Wokowski.
A little over an hour later, the team, traveling by oversized van, arrived at a drab, high-rise in the suburbs that Bingua identified as the People’s Hospital of West Beijing. All approaches to the building had been cordoned off with red traffic cones and parked police cars. They stopped briefly at a police barrier. Next to it was a small, free-standing kiosk where a typically quiet, orderly line of Chinese stood waiting patiently. There were over a hundred people in line.