“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Michael said softly.
KC smiled.
“I meant to do it weeks ago, but I was scared.”
“And you’re not scared anymore?” KC whispered.
Michael shook his head.
“Will you marry me?” Michael fought back his tears.
“I love you, Michael. My heart is already married to you.” KC smiled. “Yes, with all of my soul, yes.”
Michael turned to Simon, who simply nodded and knelt beside them. Busch quietly walked over, knelt beside Michael, and placed his large hand on KC’s shoulder.
“KC?” Simon began. “Do you take Michael to be your lawfully wedded husband, in good times and bad, in sickness… and in health”—Simon took a breath—“till death do you part?”
KC looked at Michael. “With all my heart, I do.”
Simon turned to Michael and laid his hand upon his shoulder.
“Michael,” Simon said. “Do you take KC to be your lawfully wedded wife… in sickness and health, through good times and bad, till death do you part?”
Michael looked deep into KC’s eyes, taking both of her hands in his. “With all of my heart, with everything I am… I do.”
“I now pronounce you man and wife…”
Michael leaned over and kissed KC with every ounce of his being, and she kissed him back, warm and sincere, their hearts and souls entwining, consummating their love.
“I’m sorry,” KC said. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
They smiled at each other, their eyes looking within each other’s soul.
A final breath escaped KC’s lips…
And she died.
CHAPTER 63
Michael was alone. Simon and Busch gave him privacy as he held KC’s limp body, his heart shattered once again. He stared at her face, her vacant green eyes. He swept his hand down her forehead, across her eyelids, gently closing them.
“I love you, Mrs. St. Pierre.”
And he wept.
AT THE DOORWAY, San Bao appeared, stepping into the cabin. He looked at Michael and leaned down, nodding his head. He gently picked KC up from Michael’s arms, carrying her as if she were a child, laying her upon the floor of the captain’s quarters, and reached up to the white ivory square that hung from his neck. He pressed the dragon’s head and the tiger’s tail at the same time and a small door released on the side; from it he removed a thimble-sized porcelain vial. He removed a small cap, and with supreme focus, he tilted it toward her lips. The liquid flowed into her mouth, a single drop spilling on her lip.
Michael stood back as San Bao laid the bottle to the side and ran his fingers through her hair, rubbing her head, tilting it back. And he began to whisper, in a soft cadence, in a language Michael didn’t comprehend.
The moment hung there, Michael wracked with grief, not comprehending what was happening.
And suddenly, a violent gasp exploded from KC’s lips, as if she had risen from the sea, snatching a desperate breath of air. She coughed in fits and starts, her body wracked with the involuntary contractions… And then she finally calmed, her breathing easing, returning to normal.
San Bao stepped back, looked at Michael with serious eyes, and nodded. And without a word, he left the room.
Michael leaned over KC, running his hands over her warm pink cheeks, trying to catch his breath.
KC’s eyes slowly opened and she looked up into Michael’s. “Hey,” she whispered.
“Hey back.” Michael stared at her, not questioning what had happened, what the man had done. He was just thankful, thankful that fate had somehow been postponed.
“Did I… ?”
Michael tilted his head in question, unsure how to answer her.
“Does this mean we are still married?” KC said.
“You mean the ‘till death do us part’ thing?”
KC nodded.
“You’re looking pretty alive to me, Mrs. St. Pierre.”
CHAPTER 64
Simon handed the diary and the picture of the island to San Bao.
“Thank you,” Simon said in Chinese. He then passed him the black puzzle box with the Dragon’s Breath inside that he had removed from Xiao’s boat.
“Thank you for letting the world forget about this place,” San Bao said as he looked at the book. He opened it and stared at the picture of the large admiral and flowing robes… and he smiled.
“The Tears of the Phoenix… ?” Simon asked.
“Would you like to know its provenance?” San Bao nodded, knowing what Simon meant. “This island is filled with many mysteries.” San Bao patted the black box. “If you would like, I will share them all.”
Simon took a moment, thinking, understanding the dangers of full knowledge, and finally shook his head. “No, it would only be for my own vanity.”
Simon turned to Michael and KC, who stood dockside staring up at the ships. “Do you want to ask about the ships?”
“No,” Michael said. “I like a world with mysteries in it.”
Simon smiled.
“We’ve still got a problem,” Michael said. “Xiao had a file on KC and me.”
“Xiao did, not the military,” Simon said. “While he may have invaded his brother’s world, he never made them aware of his.”
“Okay, even worse. Where did he get it? How could it be so thorough?”
Michael and KC boarded the idling boat.
“Relax, we’ll figure it out,” Busch said as he climbed on board. “Have you guys thought about where we are going on your honeymoon?”
Michael and KC stared at him, confused.
“I think it’s only fair that Simon and I get to tag along; we tag along on everything else. Besides, I’m really going to have to dig my way out of another hole with Jeannie and the kids.”
Busch took the helm and turned the boat down the jungle river, heading back out to sea.
CHAPTER 65
The man sat in a large library made of stone and post beam, a warm English-style room out of the past. A fire blazed in the fireplace as he looked out at the snow-covered mountains, gathering his thoughts.
He pulled out the files on Michael and KC and placed them on the table. Compiled over the past year, they began with his knowledge of their dealings in Istanbul, and the intimate knowledge he possessed from when he had trained KC in her teen years, but Michael’s history had proven to be harder to crack. He had pieced the dossier together based on what he had heard from KC, a ferocious memory, and very detailed research of the major unsolved thefts that he himself did not commit.
He looked at the clear plasticine folder and the set of fingerprints within. There was a portfolio of pictures compiled over the past fifteen months. Pictures of Michael at work, KC playing tennis, the two of them out at dinner… and intimately at home. Thousands of surveillance pictures, as if someone had invaded their hearts and souls.
The orange glow from the fireplace lit the man’s burned face, which had been horrifically scarred fifteen months ago, when Michael and KC had left him for dead in the depths of a mountain in India. In the aftermath, he had lost his most prized possessions. He had lost the paintings he had stolen over the last twenty years, he had lost all of his money when his accounts were raided, when the authorities cracked open his safe and took nearly $75 million in diamonds.
He loathed Michael, not just because of what he had done to him, not because he was a rival thief whose actions in Istanbul and India a year earlier had destroyed his world, but because he had taken the one woman he had ever truly loved.
It had been a month since Xiao, a man he had done work for in the past, had contacted him, telling him he needed an expert thief to steal something from the bowels of the Venetian and the Forbidden City within five days. He had considered taking the job but knew it would require two experts.
Xiao had paid him $5 million in gold for copies of the dossiers and a guarantee of the couple’s qualifications, with a penalty of his death if they
failed. The man liked the odds, and though he hated St. Pierre, he knew he would succeed. They had arrived back at their home in New York two weeks ago seeming no worse for wear, though Xiao had seemed to disappear from the face of the earth.
Iblis looked once more at the files of KC and Michael and smiled, for they had no idea of the hell he was about to put them through.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I love research, I love learning, I love feeding my curiosity. Imagine, before you begin a novel you get to indulge your interests and weave what you find into a new story, drawing on the past, on worlds long forgotten, bringing light to ancient mysteries, truths, and legends.
The Thieves of Legend started not as a novel but as a distraction. I was in the North Castle Library researching something about London, soon finding myself in the section on China, and before I knew it, I was lost in a textbook about the Forbidden City. The more I read the more excited I became. I found myself in a world digging past the headlines and common knowledge, getting lost in the forgotten details and wrapping myself in mysteries that have escaped the notice of so many.
And that’s when I stumbled across Zheng He.
While the story of Michael and KC is fiction—except those parts that come from my life and those crazy things I do—much of the history of Zheng He is true. He was a man who sailed the seas upon enormous vessels—that would still be considered giant today—commanding a fleet of more than two hundred ships that sailed the world gathering riches, animals and beasts, spices and textiles, and returning them all to the emperor for his glory.
After finding his connection to the emperor who built the Forbidden City, learning of his voyages to Africa, the Middle East, India, and North America long before Columbus, and most particularly the fact that he disappeared after his seventh voyage, The Thieves of Legend exploded in my mind.
To learn more about Zheng He, the facts behind the fiction, and the inspiration for my characters, be sure to visit me at richarddoetsch.com.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Life is far more enjoyable when you work with people you like and respect. I would personally like to thank:
Gene and Wanda Sgarlata, the owners of Womrath Bookstore in Bronxville, N.Y., for their continued support.
Sarah Branham for keeping it all in tune and being my advocate in this world of publishing. Peter Borland for your encouragement, insight, and that amazing ability to understand what I’m trying to say. I’m truly blessed to not only have you as my overseer but as my friend. Judith Curr, the most forward-thinking professional in the publishing world, and Louise Burke, for her unwavering support and belief. I could not be in better hands. Alexandra Arnold for keeping it all together; Dave Brown for getting people to sit up and take notice; and especially Joel Gotler, my Obi Wan guide in the West Coast cinematic world.
And head and shoulders above all, Cynthia Manson. First and foremost, your continued friendship is something I truly treasure. Thank you for your innovative thinking, your continued faith in the face of adversity, and your unlimited tenacity. Your inspiration, guidance, and business acumen are exceeded by no one.
Thank you to my family:
To my children—you are the best part of my life. Richard, you are my mind, your brilliance and creativity know no bounds; Marguerite, you are my heart, constantly reminding me of what is important in life; your style, grace under pressure, and sense of humor are an example to all. Isabelle, you are my soul; your laughter and inquisitive mind keep my eyes open to the magic of this world we live in.
Dad, for always being my dad and the voice of wisdom that forever rings in my ear. Mom, you were always my champion on terra firma and you no doubt still are; how else can I explain my good fortune since your passing.
Most important, thank you, Virginia. Even in the darkest moments, you fill my heart with hope, opening my eyes to the joys of life that can become so obscured by the trials, tribulations, and tragedies in this journey.
I love that you greet every day with a smile and end every night with a kiss; that you dance with such beauty, grace, and passion; I love your never-say-die, hate-to-lose competitive spirit, and how it infects all around you. I love your heart, your warmth, your beauty, and your dark eyes that reflect your soul; I love the way you put everyone else first and then revel in their success, I love the way you fill a room with laughter and smiles when you enter and how the party is always over when you leave.
Thank you for being you, for being mine, for being everything that’s good in my life, I love you with all my heart.
Finally, thank you to you, the reader, for taking the time to read my stories, for reaching out through your notes, tweets, letters, and emails. Your kind words inspire and fill me with the responsibility to never let you down.
Richard
RICHARD DOETSCH is the bestselling author of five previousx thrillers, including The Thieves of Heaven, which is currently being developed for film by Twentieth Century Fox, and The 13th Hour, which will be adapted by New Line Cinema. He lives in New York with his family. Visit www.richarddoetsch.com to find out more.
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Also by Richard Doetsch
Half Past Dawn
The Thieves of Darkness
The 13th Hour
The Thieves of Faith
The Thieves of Heaven
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Richard Doetsch
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First Atria Books hardcover edition November 2012
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Doetsch, Richard.
The thieves of legend : a thriller / by Richard Doetsch.—1st Atria hardcover ed.
p. cm.
1. Thieves—Fiction. 2. China—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3604.O343T55 2012
813’.6—dc23
2012029862
ISBN 978–1–4165–9898–5
ISBN 978–1–4391–0967–0 (ebook)
Table of Contents
Epigraph
Prologue
Two Days Earlier
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 1
4
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About Richard Doetsch
Table of Contents
Epigraph
Prologue
Two Days Earlier
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
The Thieves of Legend Page 39