Conrad pursed his lips and Stander stepped forward.
“Sir, you’re not actually—”
Conrad cut him off with a raised hand. “We agreed to a proper excavation to keep our Mongolian friends happy. We need their cooperation. And the sooner it gets done, the sooner we can put this behind us. Whether you shoot them now or a few hours from now makes no difference, does it?”
Stander glared at Acton. “No, assuming nothing goes wrong. Those kids at the hotel had outside help and three of my men are dead. He’s still out there somewhere. And those kids knew where this mine was. They didn’t know it was a mine, but somehow they had the GPS coordinates for this place.”
Conrad dismissed his concerns. “He’s one man. The Americans don’t exactly have a presence here.”
“No, but she’s rich. I think he’s private security.”
Conrad regarded Stander. “Even so, if he had more men with him, would he have taken all four of you on alone?”
Stander frowned. “No, I suppose not.”
“Then there you go. CIA or private, it doesn’t matter. He’s one man. If he comes here, we kill him too.” Conrad pointed at Acton and Laura. “Get them out of those cuffs and into the hole. I want that excavation completed before dawn.”
Acton suppressed the smile that so desperately wanted to escape.
He had just bought them hours.
Come on, Jack, work your magic!
61 |
En route to Mongolia
Dawson leaned back in the ridiculously comfortable seat of the charter jet, trying to catch a little shuteye before they arrived. The distinctive snap of traditional playing cards to his right was a comfort, Spock always carrying an old deck with him wherever he went so he could kill time playing solitaire.
“You know, you can play that on your phone.”
Dawson opened his eyes to see Niner leaning over Spock’s seat from behind.
Spock cocked an eyebrow. “And what would the point of that be?”
Niner shrugged. “You wouldn’t look like such a Luddite?”
Spock continued to play. “And what’s so bad about shunning technology every once in a while?”
Niner spun his phone on the tip of his finger. “I could never live without my girl.”
Atlas returned from the bathroom waving his hand. “I highly recommend nobody go back there for a few days.” He grabbed Niner’s spinning phone. “And if this is your girlfriend, maybe that’s why you don’t want to make love to a beautiful woman more than ten times in your life.”
Niner snatched the phone back and gave it a gentle pet. “You don’t listen to him, Siri, you know you’re my girl.”
Atlas dropped in a seat across from Spock. “You know, I was reading about these rare earth elements. They’re in everything now! And China controls most of it. They could hurt us badly if they wanted to.”
Dawson raised his seat, sleep apparently not on the agenda. “Which is probably why somebody is willing to kidnap or worse, kill, to keep their mine going. The companies and countries that can position themselves to pick up the slack should the Chinese make a move, will make a killing.”
Niner shook his head. “I still can’t believe people are actually killing because of this. An American company! I hope the Feds are taking action.”
“Last update from Control says the Feds are going to be raiding their offices the moment we give the all-clear. They don’t want to risk the hostages.”
“Good. Shut the mothers down.”
Atlas grunted. “That’s never going to happen. A company that big? They’ll just fire a few executives, pay some fines, then continue on as if nothing ever happened. That’s the thing about corporations. They can get away with pretty much anything, because most of them aren’t just one person. They’re hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands. They just designate a fall guy, then continue on as if nothing happened. They’ll claim whoever is running things in Mongolia was acting on his own, that they had no idea what he was doing, and nobody will be able to prove otherwise, unless some idiot sent an email. I’ll bet a month of Niner’s salary that in the end, nobody even sees the inside of a prison cell.”
Niner checked that his wallet was still in his pocket. “While I appreciate your willingness to risk my money, I hate to think our system is that broken that you could be right.”
Atlas shook his head. “Look at the financial crisis! We bailed out those banks and a year later they’re bonusing out over a hundred and fifty million to the executives that caused the damned crisis. They just don’t care.”
Spock’s eyebrow shot up. “So, all corporations are evil?”
Atlas wagged a finger at him. “Hey, I never said that. I think most are good, especially the small to mid-size ones. They’re hard-working people trying to make a living. But when they get so big that everyone is just a number, and the almighty dollar becomes king rather than doing what’s morally right? Then you start to have problems. Not with them all, but with some.
“And keep in mind, these companies can be massive. If you’ve got a thousand or ten thousand people working for you, how the hell do you keep track of what they’re doing? I mean, yes, they’re all in your computer, so you know where they’re supposed to be and what their next paycheck is going to be, but when you’re that big, the guy at the top has to delegate. And just because you’re an employee, an executive, doesn’t mean you’re a good guy. Criminals have jobs too. I’m willing to bet that the head office back in Seattle has no clue what their guy is up to in Mongolia. He probably sends them status reports saying everything is hunky-dory, and as long as the profits keep rolling in, they ignore the entire operation. It’s not like he’s going to add an addendum to his ‘Good morning, Seattle’ email that says, oh, by the way, I executed six people last night because they found out we broke some local law.”
Dawson regarded him. “I’m guessing you’re right. And that means we could have somebody completely off his rocker running the operation. The one they arrested in Maryland at the professors’ house has quite the record, and has been associated with some pretty nasty guys over the years. They won’t hesitate to shoot to kill if they’re like him.”
Niner sat back in his seat. “I saw the photos of what was done to Dean Milton. That deserves a bullet to the head as far as I’m concerned.”
Dawson nodded. “Agreed.”
Atlas eyed him. “So, what you’re saying is…”
“What I’m saying is that when we arrive, assume everyone wants to kill you, and don’t hesitate to shoot to kill.”
62 |
Mine Site, Eastern Mongolia
Acton rubbed his wrists, thankful to be rid of the cuffs the Mongolian soldiers had put on them when they had been captured. He took Laura’s hand and walked down the earthen ramp and into the large hole dug earlier.
Arban spotted them and smiled.
Then frowned.
“Professor Acton? They got you too?”
Acton shrugged as he shook Arban’s hand. “It would appear so.” He turned to Laura. “I don’t think you’ve met my wife. Arban Namjiliin, may I present Professor Laura Palmer.”
Laura shook the young man’s hand. “A pleasure.”
“I wish it were under better circumstances.” Arban sighed. “I’m so sorry I got you mixed up in this.”
Acton shook his head. “No, don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault.” He glanced up at their captors, standing at the edge of the hole. “It’s their fault.”
“Yes, but now we’re all going to die.”
Acton smiled slightly. “Never give up hope, my friend.”
Arban grunted, jerking a thumb at another man on his hands and knees. “You sound like him.”
“And he is?”
“My corrupt boss, and the reason we’re all here. Bataar Elbegdor.”
Acton frowned. “I see.” He gestured toward the staked off area. “You obviously remember your training.”
Arban grinned. “How could
I forget? I had the best teacher.”
Laura patted Acton’s shoulder. “He is that, isn’t he?”
Acton stepped toward the dig. “So, what have you found?”
“A body only minutes ago. I hate to say this, but you couldn’t have arrived at a better time.”
Acton grunted. “I just wish I had arrived with a Delta platoon.”
Arban eyed him. “What’s that?”
“Wishful thinking.” Acton pointed at the excavation. “Continue.”
“We’ve reached the level the core sample indicated the void with the skeletal hand should be. We’ve just begun excavating the rest of the skeleton.”
“Anything significant yet?”
“No, like I said, we reached it only minutes before you arrived.” He jutted his chin toward those standing watch. “They don’t like us doing anything without someone watching.”
Acton looked up and spotted Stander staring at him. The man leaned closer, his hands on one knee.
“Remember, Professor, if you try anything, I’ll kill your wife first and let you watch.”
63 |
Khentii Region, Mongol Empire 1227 AD
“Kill them all.”
The general nodded, his face grim, knowing full well that this was but the first of several orders to come that would be unpleasant.
Yet completely necessary.
Mutukan’s chest ached as the order was barked, the elite personal guard of a thousand mounted men, all lined up before them, turning to execute the orders they likely suspected were coming, though probably had hoped weren’t.
They spread out in a long line across the open grounds they had discovered weeks before. The Khan’s resting place was deep under it now, their leader resting peacefully under a river diverted from several hundred paces away. The former riverbed had been filled in with the dirt dug from the new, with thousands of trees now planted overtop it.
Unless someone was intimately familiar with the area, no one would know the river had been shifted.
And no one would think to look under flowing water for the body of Genghis Khan should they wish to desecrate his grave and disturb his slumber.
He watched as the tens of thousands of workers employed over the past weeks were herded out of the area. There could be no evidence left behind that so many had been here. All of their belongings had already been burnt, the ashes tossed into the river, the ground replanted.
And in the next valley, where the river merged with another, forming an even mightier flow to the ocean, those that had served their Khan would be sacrificed to preserve the secret, their bodies tossed into the river to be carried out to sea, leaving no mass grave to be found.
For no one could know the location of the tomb of Genghis Khan.
64 |
Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia Present Day
Jack smiled at the irony of it. Beyond the fence sat nearly a dozen beautiful helicopters, but one fenced off area had his preferred choice. A custom-painted job promoting the company that owned it. FirstPrime Mining. There were two helipads in the closed-off area, one vacant. He wasn’t certain if they had one chopper, or if the second were elsewhere, perhaps at the mine, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that this one was here, and that it stayed here until the Delta team arrived.
And he needed to know if it was functional.
He cut the fence, carefully listening for any security—especially canine—then made for the helicopter at a crouch. He opened the door, the fact it was unlocked giving him hope for the next check—did the helicopter need a key to start? Many didn’t, and those that did often had the key left inside.
After all, only a helicopter pilot could steal a helicopter.
He checked the cockpit controls, finding no evidence of a key needed, then flipped several switches, his knowledge basic. The helicopter powered up its electronics and he confirmed it was fully fueled.
Now we’ve got our ride.
He powered down, then stealthily returned to the professors’ rental, his two hours of driving giving him plenty of time to figure out everything that needed to be done to expedite their rescue. He started the engine and headed for the embassy as he checked his watch. The team was due to arrive shortly, and they’d be coming in with nothing but civilian accouterments.
Now to get some weapons of war.
65 |
Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia
Leroux frowned as he stared at the satellite image of the mine site, the Mil Mi-24 Hind gunship still on the ground, its rotors at rest.
They’re not going anywhere anytime soon.
“That’s a lot of guns on site,” said Child. “Our guys are going to be heavily outnumbered.”
Tong agreed. “Not to mention they’ll be engaging Mongolian military. This has international incident written all over it.”
Leroux sat in his chair, folding his arms as he sought a solution while counting far too many green dots on the screen, each representing an armed hostile.
“What’s that?” asked Child, zooming in on an area. Four people were in what appeared to be a hole. “Are they digging?”
Leroux rose, approaching the display. “They look like they’re on their hands and knees.” He squinted. “Increase the contrast.” He pointed at what appeared to be lines. “What are those?”
Child manipulated the image and a series of squares appeared.
Leroux whistled. “Does that look like an archaeological dig to anyone else?”
Tong nodded. “Definitely. Could two of those be the professors?”
“Bring up the photo from the last flyby.”
Child tapped his keyboard, bringing up an image from a couple of hours ago, then zoomed in on the same area.
Leroux smiled. “Same grid, but only two people.” He slapped his hands together. “I think they convinced them to let them work on whatever the hell that is. And you know what that means.”
Tong smiled. “They just bought us the time we need.”
66 |
Genghis Khan International Airport Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia
Customs had hassled them a little more than usual, a last-minute charter flight arriving in the middle of the night unusual for the Mongolians. But they had nothing to hide.
On the surface.
Their luggage were all carry-ons containing nothing but clothing and normal items businessmen carried on quick trips. No secret compartments, no deodorant sticks hiding miniaturized radios.
Nothing whatsoever to accidentally find.
And that appeared to frustrate the guards.
Their paperwork was good, their covers well-traveled and thoroughly documented, and the base printers had done top-notch jobs on their business cards, Langley providing a previously created package of fake paperwork to fill their briefcases. To all outward appearances, they were businessmen coming to meet with the embassy liaison, then with the local government about improving the poor communications infrastructure.
“No samples?”
Dawson stared at the customs official. “Excuse me?”
“Why no samples? You not bring samples to show our government?”
Dawson smiled. “Oh, sorry, I’m so tired, I didn’t hear you. They were already sent a couple of weeks ago.” He winked. “That’s why we got the meeting.”
The guard’s mouth opened in understanding as his head bobbed. “Were they cellphones?”
Dawson nodded.
“Nice?”
“Nothing but the best.” He leaned forward and handed the man his business card, lowering his voice. “I’ll tell you what. In one week, email me your address and I’ll hook you up. Just tell me how many of your boys here would like some state-of-the-art hardware.”
The man’s eyes bulged and he took the card, quickly stuffing it in his pocket. He waved toward the doors. “You can go. Welcome to Mongolia.”
Dawson bowed his head and made for the door with the others. Niner came up beside him.
�
��You know he’s going to ask for a couple of hundred phones.”
Dawson shrugged. “Hey, depending on how much Langley wants to keep this cover company legit, they might just send them.”
Niner laughed. “Good thing you didn’t promise them tanks.”
They exited the terminal, the crisp nighttime air greeting them, along with a Caucasian man standing beside an idling SUV, sporting a smile. “Hiya, boys.”
Dawson extended a hand. “Jack, I presume?”
“Pleasure to meet you boys from corporate. Now, load your luggage in the back, and I’ll get you to your hotel.”
Dawson played along with the cover. There were definitely eyes in the area, and Jack apparently wasn’t willing to risk tipping anyone off by letting anything slip. Within minutes, they were in the city, the traffic sparse, the tinted windows providing them with privacy.
“I’ve got gifts in the back.”
Niner and Atlas retrieved four large duffel bags.
“Body armor, MP5s, Glocks, ammo, flashbangs, the works. You gotta love America’s desire to be able to wage covert wars in every country in the world.”
Dawson chuckled. “God bless the United States of America, and the fine weaponry freedom provides.” He inspected a Glock handed forward by Spock. “So, what’s the latest?”
“The professors are at the mine site as we suspected. According to Langley, they appear to be working in some archaeological dig with two other people.”
Niner leaned forward between the seats. “Are you serious? They actually convinced the bad guys to put them to work?”
Dawson grunted. “Whatever the reason, it probably saved their lives. If I know the professors, they did this on purpose to buy time.” He looked at Jack. “Speaking of, my understanding is that this mine is several hours drive from here. I assume you got us something faster.” He tipped his head forward slightly. “Something not Mongolian military.”
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