Laura’s head slowly bobbed then stopped. “Wait, why would Rita be calling you? Wouldn’t she call Greg?”
Reading shifted in his chair. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news—”
Acton’s stomach flipped and his chest heaved. “Please don’t—!”
Reading rapidly waved his hands in front of him. “No! No! He’s not dead! But he was badly beaten and tortured.”
Acton’s shoulders slumped and Laura leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, tears breaking out.
“What happened?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but from what I’ve been able to gather, he came to check on your house and someone was there waiting for you. He beat him quite badly, and…”
Acton’s eyes were burning as he struggled to maintain control, mental images of his best friend’s brutalization overwhelming him. “And?”
“There’s a chance he might not walk again.”
He lost it, collapsing onto the table as his entire body was racked with sobs. Laura fell on top of him, crying, and Reading reached out, gently holding his arm and hers.
“It’s my fault,” cried Acton. “I should have stayed put. I never should have gone to Mongolia.”
“It’s our fault,” said Laura. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s both of us.”
Reading patted their arms. “Bollocks. It’s the man who did it. And you’ll be happy to know Sherrie and Fang caught him. He’ll pay for his crimes.”
Acton sniffed, rising then wiping his tears from his face. He put an arm around Laura and held her tight as he regained his composure. “I have to call him.”
Reading reached for his phone when the door opened, Tommy and Mai entering, both rushing into their arms. A tearful reunion took place, with Laura repeatedly warning them they’d never be allowed to leave the country again.
And she was getting no argument from them.
He smiled as he finally noticed the young couple’s escorts, Dawson, Niner, Atlas, and Spock entering the room then closing the door. It was crowded, but nobody cared as hugs and handshakes and happy greetings were exchanged.
“Sorry about leaving you guys behind,” said Dawson. “We were preparing to head back on our own when we got word that Dylan had managed to get himself into position.”
Acton squeezed Laura’s hand. “Really? We didn’t see him.”
Dawson jerked a thumb at Reading. “Turns out this one went rogue first, and saved the day.”
“What about Jack?” asked Laura. “They took him from the room and we never saw him again.”
“Dylan rescued him and got him on a flight to Beijing.”
Acton’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that sort of like going from the frying pan to the fire?”
Dawson shrugged. “There are a billion people to lose yourself among in China, and only a few million Mongolians. He’s already made contact. He’s fine.”
“And Dylan?”
“He swung by the hotel and made sure Clarice got out safely—”
Mai cried out. “Oh my God, I forgot about her!”
Dawson chuckled. “Well, not to worry. She’s safely on her way home.”
“Thank God,” sighed Tommy. “I’d have felt horrible. What about those two that were arrested instead of us?”
Dawson frowned. “I’m afraid they’ve been reported missing by their Chinese parents. I have a feeling it won’t be good news.”
The room fell silent in honor of two innocents, Laura finally breaking the silence as she wiped a tear away. “And Dylan? Will he be joining us?”
Dawson shook his head. “Nope. Already off on his next assignment as far as I know. That guy is hard to keep track of.”
Acton sighed. “Well, I’m happy to hear Dylan and Jack are okay, as well as Clarice. I just wish we had been able to save Arban. That poor kid.”
Dawson leaned forward. “Well, I might have something on that.”
Acton’s chest hammered at Dawson’s hopeful tone. “What?”
“Well, apparently that loader that was used to scoop up your Khan guy disappeared from the mine, then reappeared about an hour ago.”
Acton smiled as he exchanged an excited glance with Laura. It had to have been Arban. But how? “Does, umm, Langley have any theories?”
“You mean, do they think it was Arban?”
Acton chuckled. “Am I that transparent?”
“They’re not making any official comment on it, but from what I gather, the satellite footage shows no evidence of the load it was holding in its bucket being dumped at the mine site, yet when it returned, it was empty.”
Laura squeezed Acton’s hand. “So, whoever took it, took the remains with them, left it somewhere, then returned the loader so no one would go looking for it.”
Acton’s head bobbed. “It had to be someone who knew what was in the bucket. A thief would have dumped it right then and there, and then never would have returned.”
Tommy interjected. “They might have changed their mind?”
Acton shook his head. “No, they still would have dumped it before leaving the mine site. When we left, there was nobody left behind besides the workers, and none of them knew what was in the bucket. Conrad was in the helicopter with Stander, the rest were either dead or in our helicopter. We assumed Arban was with Stander and Conrad, but when he cut the lights, I know I couldn’t see what was going on.”
Niner agreed. “I couldn’t see anything either. Remember, Stander took his gun off his hostages to shoot out the generator. Arban could have taken that opportunity to escape and lose himself in the dark.”
“But why wouldn’t he show himself after Stander left?” asked Tommy. “It was safe then.”
Acton smiled slightly. “Because he already had a plan. You have to remember that many Mongolians—most—revere Genghis Khan. And Khan’s wishes were well-known. He wanted to be buried in his homeland, in an unmarked grave, with no one left to know its location. I think Arban was a true believer, and he took the opportunity to fulfill Khan’s wishes once again. I think somewhere out there is a new grave, dug deep once again, with Khan’s remains buried, unmarked, where hopefully he’s never discovered again.”
Tommy frowned. “Well, that’s anticlimactic. We should be able to find it, shouldn’t we?”
Acton nodded. “Yes, but should we? I mean, haven’t the Mongolian people spoken? The soldiers opened fire, killed their own commanding officer, were willing to die to try and protect the gravesite, then the only survivor from the government takes the body and hides it. I think that speaks volumes. If the Mongolians want him found, then they can ask for our help. The surviving soldiers know what was there and I’m sure they’ve already told their senior officers.” He shook his head. “I think we should let Khan rest in peace wherever he now is.”
Mai cleared her throat. “He’s not exactly the type of man that deserves to rest in peace.”
Acton smiled. “Agreed, but, if you believe in such things, then you have to also believe that any punishment he deserved is already being meted out in the next life.”
Reading’s phone vibrated and he pulled it out, his eyebrows shooting up. “It’s a message from Rita Perdok.”
Acton’s eyes narrowed. “How does she have—oh, right. What’s it say?”
“It says, if you see Jim and Laura, I thought they should see this.”
“See what?”
“There’s a video.” He played it, Megadeth’s Train of Consequences playing, and Acton smiled, his chest heaving as he knew exactly what would be on the video.
Reading turned the phone so they could see, and tears rolled as he saw his best friend, bandaged head to toe.
With one toe tapping to the beat.
78 |
Namjiliin Residence Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia
Arban frowned at the shattered door jamb. He stepped inside his home tentatively, listening for any signs of intruders, then gasping at the sight. His home had been torn apart, as if whoever had been here had been searchin
g for something with an intentionally destructive ferocity.
Rage filled him for a moment, then satisfaction with the knowledge all those responsible were dead.
And his rage turned to concern.
“Badma?”
There was no answer.
He called out again, louder, and still no answer.
He raced through the small home, checking every room, every closet, every place she might be hiding, or a body might be hidden, and found nothing.
He went to the back door and out into the alleyway behind the row of houses.
“Badma!”
He called several more times before a door opened several homes down.
“Arban?”
His chest heaved with relief as he raced toward her, and she toward him. They slammed into each other, and he held her tight as the tears flowed. He pushed away, holding her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away her tears, relishing in her beauty as if it had been years since he had last laid eyes upon it.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, smiling. “Are you?”
He hugged her hard to his chest once again. “Yes, everything is fine.”
“Did the professors save you?”
“In a manner of speaking. You met them?”
“They saved me.”
“Then I’ll have to thank them.” They strolled back to their home, arm in arm, saying nothing until they were safely inside.
“What was it all about?”
He stood two chairs upright and they sat facing each other. “We found it.”
“What?”
“The tomb. The tomb of Genghis Khan.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. “Oh no! What…what will happen?”
“The Shaman’s wishes were kept.”
She stared at her husband, and he could see the pride. “By you?”
He nodded. “He must forever rest in peace, undisturbed.”
“And will he?”
“I’ve made certain of it.”
She smiled. “Then you have done well.” She frowned. “Does anyone know? I mean, do they know you did this?”
He chewed his cheek for a moment as he thought. “No, I don’t think so, though once Professor Acton discovers I’m alive and the tomb is missing, he’ll probably realize it was me.”
“That could mean trouble.”
He grunted. “Then perhaps we should just let the professor think I’m dead.”
“Will that work?”
He shrugged. “I doubt it, but the fact I don’t contact him might be enough for him to know I don’t want to be asked any questions.”
“If word gets out that you might know…”
“Then I’ll do what’s necessary.”
She pulled away. “I don’t like the sound of that. You mean—”
He took her hand and patted it. “I’ll do whatever is necessary to preserve the secret.”
She paled. “You mean…”
He sighed. “I wouldn’t be the first to die to preserve the secret. Though I hope I’m the last.”
79 |
Khentii Region, Mongol Empire 1227 AD
“It is done.”
Mutukan frowned. It had taken days, and a toll on the men forced to commit the atrocity. He felt for them all, and thanked the spirits that he had been spared from participating. He sighed. “I regret it was necessary for your men to execute so many of our own.”
The general remained stoic. “It was an honor to fulfill the Khan’s final wishes.”
And that was what Mutukan had to keep reminding himself. All that had taken place was according to his master’s wishes. He wanted to be buried in the land of his ancestors, and this was it. He was born less than a day’s ride from this very place.
But more importantly, he wanted to be buried where no one would ever find him, and it had been understood from the beginning what that meant.
The only way the secret of his final resting place could be kept was if no one knew.
“I only wish we could have trusted the monks to commit the ultimate sacrifice as your men did, so there would be someone to say the funeral rites over their bodies.”
The general’s shoulders slumped. “It is unfortunate, though the spirits will take care of their souls, I have no doubt.”
Mutukan urged his horse forward as he surveyed the area one last time. The personal guard of a thousand mounted men had executed their orders, eliminating the tens of thousands that had crafted what lay before them—a perfect landscape, with no evidence man had ever disturbed it.
Those same thousand men had ridden their horses repeatedly over the sight of the slaughter, destroying any evidence it had occurred, the river, jammed with bodies, eventually releasing them, those downstream no doubt left to wonder what horrors had taken place. Yet if any were sent to investigate, they would find nothing.
Including the bodies of the personal guard, who had all sacrificed their horses, then themselves, each pushing the next man’s body into the river, their general and Mutukan all that remained.
They approached the river and dismounted. Mutukan patted the neck of his horse, one that had served him well for years, then removed any markings, tossing them into the river. He smacked it on its hindquarters, sending it galloping off.
“You’re letting him live?”
“I think there’s been enough killing of innocents, don’t you?”
The general nodded, setting his own horse free. “Almost enough.”
Mutukan smiled. “It has been an honor, General.”
“The honor has been mine, sir.”
Mutukan bowed then stepped into the river, the general following. He drew his dagger and placed it to the general’s throat. “Forgive me.” He slid it across the skin, slicing it open, the blood flowing freely as the general gasped then slid into the waters, swiftly carried away.
Mutukan closed his eyes, tears flowing as he tilted his head back and placed the knife over his heart.
I will see you soon, my master.
THE END
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JAMES ACTON WILL RETURN!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book is dedicated to a lovely married couple I’ve known for years. I won’t say why. They know why, and that is all that matters. What is interesting is that Deniz visited me recently with another friend from the past—hey Willy!—and we were talking about my success as a writer. What most don’t know is that Deniz is responsible for some of my most popular characters—Bravo Team.
When I wrote The Protocol, I shared it with a few friends to get their feedback, and Deniz was one of them. When he finished the story, he had the courage to tell me what he didn’t like about it—that the Bravo Team were automatons.
And he was right.
I had recently read Dan Brown’s Deception Point, and it had a Delta Force team in it, and they were all referred to as Delta One, Two, Three, etc. I had copied that style as I figured if it was good enough for one of the biggest selling authors at the time, then it was good enough for me as a first-time novelist.
I was wrong.
Deniz said he wanted to know more about them—names, their backgrounds, what their motivations were.
And on the next draft, Bravo Team was truly born.
Little did I know they’d appear in over thirty books a decade later!
Thanks, Deniz!
As usual, there are people to thank. My dad for all the research, Marc Quesnel for help naming some baddies, Sue Bucksey for some British slang, Brent Richards for some military jargon, and, as usual, my wife, daughter, and mother, as well as the proofing and launch teams.
To those who have not already done so, please visit my website at www.jrobertkennedy.com then sign up for the Insider’s Club to be notified of new book releases. Your ema
il address will never be shared or sold, and you’ll only receive the occasional email from me, as I don’t have time to spam you!
Thank you once again for reading.
JAMES ACTON WILL RETURN!
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