“And who was dialed into it?”
“A US number. Thomas Granger.”
“And he is?”
“A nobody now, but somebody with his name hacked the Department of Defense mainframe as a teenager. I’m guessing with what we found, he’s one and the same.”
Conrad cursed. “So, that means the email with the pictures Arban took are with a hacker. They could be everywhere now.”
Stander shook his head. “I don’t think so. We’re monitoring the web and haven’t seen anything. Besides, I don’t think he’s in the US.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think he’s here. He would have needed a very stable connection to pull that much data. There’s no way he’d be able to stay connected long enough from overseas.”
“Did the professors bring him with them?”
“They must have.”
“But I thought the manifest only had two passengers.”
“It did. They must have come in commercial.”
There was a pause. “Or they smuggled them in somehow.”
Stander shook his head. “No way. Security would have caught them.”
“Could they have stayed on the plane?”
Stander rolled his eyes at the notion. “No. As soon as that thing powered down it would have turned into a hotbox. No, he’s in the city somewhere, probably holed up in a hotel.”
“But how?”
Stander’s eyes widened and a smile spread as a thought occurred to him. “He came in as crew!”
29 |
Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia
“My God, these guys are clever.”
Leroux turned to Tong. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know how that travel agent’s phone call referred to their students Tommy and Mai being there?”
“Yeah. Have you figured it out?”
She pointed at the screen, showing a document listing the flight crew, Thomas Granger and Mai Trinh highlighted. “They had them come in as part of the flight crew.”
Leroux shook his head at the audacity. “How the hell did they manage that?”
She shrugged. “Big bucks means you can do pretty much whatever you want.”
Leroux agreed. “Must be nice.” He folded his arms. “Okay, so they bring them in undercover so to speak, so that means they knew it could be dangerous.”
“Which proved true.”
Leroux grunted. “It usually does with them.” He chewed his cheek, staring at the intel displayed on the screens. “So, where are they now? They should all be in the same hotel, right? I mean the flight crew.”
Tong frowned. “We’re not exactly talking a state of the art country here. Finding out where they might be staying could take some time.”
Leroux shook his head. “To hell with that. Those kids could be in danger. Contact the plane.”
Tong’s eyebrows shot up. “Huh?”
“Contact the plane. The pilots were at the hotel. Get the name from them.”
Tong grinned. “I like how you think.”
30 |
Sinai Hospital Baltimore, Maryland
Rita spotted Sandra Milton through the window of the ER waiting room and rushed inside. Cries were exchanged as Sandra rose and they both embraced each other, sobbing unabashedly. There was nothing shameful on display here today, for while Sandra was Milton’s wife, Rita was his work wife.
She loved that man, in an entirely appropriate way.
She had worked for him from the moment he had been named Dean all those years ago, and had served him faithfully day in and day out before handing him back to Sandra at the end of the workday. He always treated her right, never an inappropriate word said or action taken.
He was the perfect boss, and a wonderful man. He loved his students and staff, and was always there for them, sacrificing his own time whenever it was necessary.
And all of this brought back so many memories of when he had been shot, that all she could think about was how changed he had been while stuck in that chair, yet once he had accepted it, how he had been determined to not let it hamper his outlook on life, or how he lived it. And the fact he had been one of the lucky ones who had regained his ability to walk through extremely hard work was a miracle, a miracle she was convinced delivered by Jesus himself for all the good he had done in this world.
Though he would have called her a fool for thinking such things.
“I’m no better than any other man,” he would have said, she was certain.
The tearful embrace was finally broken, and she led Sandra back to her seat. “Are you okay?”
Sandra shrugged, clearly not. “What do you think?”
Rita smiled gently at her, quickly straightening the poor woman’s disheveled hair, then took a tissue from her purse and wiped away the makeup running from all the tears. “A silly question, I know.”
“How’d you find out?”
“One of Jim’s neighbors works at the university and someone came to let Greg know. They thought it was Jim that was hurt.” She sighed. “Do you know what happened?”
Sandra shook her head. “Not much. Just that he went to check on the house like he normally does when they’re away, and somebody I guess was there and did this to him. Somebody, I don’t know who, saved him.”
“Thank God. What about the person who did this? Did the police arrest him?”
Sandra shrugged. “I don’t know. Somebody has him.” She stared at Rita. “I don’t know how much you know about Jim and Laura, but, well, they have friends.”
Rita’s eyes narrowed. “Friends?”
“The type that, umm…” Sandra shook her head. “It’s better you don’t know.”
Rita’s mind was left to fill in the blanks, and none of them were good. Her face must have revealed her fears.
Sandra took her hand. “Oh, they’re not bad people! That’s not what I meant.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Think James Bond type stuff.”
Rita’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped. “Oooh.” Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “Is that why they’re always off galivanting around the world? They’re actually spies?”
Sandra shook her head, patting Rita on the hand. “No.” She wagged a finger at her. “And don’t say anything to anyone.”
Rita ran pinched fingers across her lips. “My lips are sealed.” She sighed. “And ironically, this cloak and dagger stuff is why I’m here.”
Sandra stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I hate to ask you this, but there’s an emergency. We need to reach somebody named Dylan Kane.”
Sandra went pale, paler than she already was. “Dylan? Why? What’s going on?”
“The Actons are in trouble, as well as two of their students.”
“Tommy and Mai?”
Rita’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, how did you know?”
Sandra shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Why do they need to reach Dylan?”
“They want to give him the location the professors are heading to before they leave the country.” Rita paused. “Who is he? Why is he so important?” Her eyes bulged and she lowered her voice. “Is he one of those friends you were talking about?”
Sandra smiled slightly. “I can’t say, but unfortunately I have no idea how to reach him.”
Rita chewed her cheek for a moment. “Does Greg?”
Sandra nodded. “Yes, I think so, but I don’t know if he ever has.” Her eyes widened. “But I know who can help!”
31 |
Unknown Location, Mongolia
Arban pushed into the corner with his feet as one of the security personnel entered the trailer and marched toward him. The man grabbed him by the arm, the grip viselike, and hauled him to his feet.
“Your boss wants to see you.”
Arban said nothing as he was shoved out the door. He stumbled down the few steps to the ground, his captor’s grip the only thing saving him from falling. He gasped as a huge backhoe dropped i
ts bucket into a large hole, scooping out a load of dirt near the area the core sample had been taken.
The core sample that had revealed something of potential historical importance.
He spotted Bataar Elbegdor, his boss, nearby, watching the proceedings, and the man smiled at him, beckoning him over. His captor shoved him toward the small group and he reluctantly joined them as rage filled him with each step.
Elbegdor extended an arm and hauled him closer. “Arban, I thought you should see this for yourself. We’re almost at the depth the core sample indicated the void should be.”
Arban refused to let the man diminish what had been found. “You mean the void with skeletal remains and indications of hand-carved wood.”
Elbegdor regarded him for a moment. “Yes, of course.” He glanced at the handcuffs. “I’m sorry about this. If only you hadn’t run, we might have figured something out. I could have cut you in.”
The fire of outrage burned hotter. “No amount of money could ever justify what you’re doing.”
Elbegdor chuckled. “So young and so naïve. Do you have any idea what this development means for Mongolia? For our people?” He waved his hand, indicating the operation already bigger than anything Arban had witnessed firsthand, and once fully up and running, far larger. “We’re talking thousands of jobs, billions upon billions of dollars. A future for our people. This one operation, and those that will follow, could fundamentally alter our country’s future.”
Arban frowned. “I like our country the way it is. It has its problems, but if your actions here are any indication, all this will do is make those problems worse.”
Elbegdor shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you? This will inject billions into our economy every year. It will result in thousands of good-paying jobs, and those people will spend that money in our cities and towns, resulting in thousands more in spin-off jobs. We’ll finally start to drag the poor out of the gutter and into the middle class, and what is it that the middle class in any country wants?”
Arban shrugged. “I don’t know. What?”
“To be like the middle class in America. They want everything the Americans have. That means fancy cars, televisions, computers, cellphones, and the Internet. And once they have that, and realize what else they don’t have, they’ll want that as well.”
Arban stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Freedom. Good government. Honest government. Once our people have the money to gain access to the information that has been kept from them merely because they are too poor to access it, they’ll see what is wrong with our country, and demand change.”
Arban grunted. “So, what you’re saying is that your greed and corruption is actually saving our country in the long run, so that one day, a man like you can’t do what you’re doing now.”
Elbegdor laughed. “Exactly!”
Arban shook his head. “How do you sleep at night?”
Elbegdor frowned. “Don’t think this has come easy for me. I only agreed because I knew eventually they’d find someone who would agree, and that person might not care at all about what might be found. I care. You know that. Look what we’re doing here. We’re excavating so we can see what was found, and we’re doing it properly. Carefully. And if we find something truly significant, it will be preserved.”
Arban regarded him for a moment, suddenly confused. “So, you’ll shut this down?”
Elbegdor chuckled. “Of course not. But we’ll excavate and move whatever we find, should it prove significant, then claim it was discovered elsewhere. Remember, whatever this is can’t be very important. It’s in the middle of nowhere. Likely, all we’ll find is some man who was thrown from his horse, his body left to rot and eventually reclaimed by the elements. A curiosity to be studied in a lab, not hold up the future of a country.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if it is significant? Will you change your mind?”
“My boy, I assure you, there is no possibility that what we find here today is of any importance to anyone. And if it proves to be nothing, I might just be able to convince these people to spare your life.”
Arban shook his head as he stared at the massive operation. “I’m already dead, sir.”
Elbegdor appeared genuinely troubled if his eyes were any indication. “I fear you may be right, but don’t lose hope, boy. There’s always hope.”
32 |
Reading Residence Whitehall, London, England
Interpol Agent Hugh Reading bolted upright in bed, immediately reaching for the small of his aching back as he cursed at whatever had woken him. His cellphone rang again on his nightstand, and a fresh round of colorful dialog erupted as he rolled over and perched on the edge of his mattress. He unhooked his CPAP mask, the contraption hissing angrily at him before he hit the button to turn it off. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he focused on the number displayed on his phone, finally giving up and just swiping his thumb.
“This better be good,” he growled.
“Umm, I’m sorry, but is this Hugh Reading?”
His interest was immediately piqued by the American accent. “Yes. Who is this?”
“My name is Rita Perdok. I’m Dean Gregory Milton’s personal assistant.”
Now he was fully awake and reached to turn on the lamp then grab his glasses and notepad. “Has something happened to Greg?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, something has. He was badly beaten in a home invasion earlier today at Professor Acton’s house.”
Reading’s heart raced with concern for his friends. “Are Jim and Laura okay?”
“Well, that’s just it. They’re in Mongolia, and apparently in some sort of trouble.”
He paused his notetaking. “Mongolia? What the bloody hell are they doing there?”
“I have no idea. No one really knows what’s going on. Greg is in surgery and his wife is rather distraught. I’m not really sure what to do. Apparently, two of their students are there with them—”
“Tommy and Mai?”
“Yes. You know them?”
“Yes. Why the hell would they take them with them?” He growled again. “Sometimes those two are far more daft than one would think academics should be.”
“You’d be surprised at some of the things I see here.”
“So, why are you calling me?”
“Well, apparently the professors are heading somewhere that looks to me to be the middle of nowhere, and communications in Mongolia are terrible so there’s no way to reach them. Tommy and Mai might have a way of leaving the country shortly, but they don’t want to leave without someone named Dylan Kane knowing where the professors are going.”
“Where are they going?”
“I have GPS coordinates taken from some photo.”
“Give them to me.” He jotted them down and read them back to confirm. “Okay, so they’re heading to these coordinates. Do we know why?”
“I’m not sure. Something about that photograph that showed a hand. I don’t know. I’m really confused, and with Greg possibly being crippled again…” She sobbed. “I just don’t know what to do!”
Reading’s chest tightened at the mention of Milton’s condition. “Okay, leave it to me. I know how to reach Dylan. I’ll get him the message. If you hear anything else, contact me, okay?”
She sniffed. “Okay, thank you so much.”
He ended the call and brought up the secure app Kane had given him in the event he had to be contacted. He sent a message summarizing what he knew, along with the coordinates, then sat wondering what the hell he could do to help the best friends he had in the world. “Get to Mongolia, that’s what you can do.” He grunted, thinking of the thin ice he was already on at work. “There’s no way they’ll let you go.” He growled and stood. “I’m overdue for retirement anyway!”
Tomorrow was Saturday, so he was off for the next two days regardless. He could at least get in the regio
n as a private citizen using the emergency account Laura had set up for him to use. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him at the thought, but he shoved it aside. Laura was filthy stinking rich, and had set up the account specifically for these situations. For her, this was like him buying a cup of coffee.
Oh, to be rich.
He argued with himself for a few more minutes before literally putting his foot down, leaving him to wonder what people might think if they saw an old copper talking to himself.
Who cares what they bloody think!
His decision was made. If he lost his job, he didn’t care. These were his friends and they were in trouble. If there was anything he could do to help, he had to at least try, for if he didn’t, and something happened to them, he’d never forgive himself.
33 |
Tangut Empire, Western Xia August 18, 1227 AD
“The Khan is dead.”
Wails from the men and women alike filled the outer rooms of the massive tent that housed their leader during his campaigns. It had all the luxuries of a palace, yet all the wealth and opulence on display could do nothing to save the man from the treachery of one young princess.
What a horrible way to die.
It had been an agonizing death, and Mutukan had been there to witness every horrifying moment of it after he returned from his failure to capture the princess responsible.
It had been the only lie he had ever told his master.
“Where is that bitch?”
“She is dead, my master. I killed her myself in a most gruesome fashion.”
“I would have preferred to do that myself.”
“I know, my master, but in my rage at what she had done, I couldn’t help myself. I apologize.”
His master dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand. “Forget it. You did well.” He grabbed him by the arm, pulling him close. “I’m going to die.”
The Tomb of Genghis Khan Page 9