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This was not part of the plan. “I must know what comes of that meeting. Can you learn that?”
“I’m waiting for the information right now.”
MALONE SAW THAT CASSIOPEIA’S PATIENCE HAD EVAPORATED. He realized that her concern was Sokolov’s son and that they currently had nothing to offer Karl Tang, so he tried asking Pau, “What did you see inside the emperor’s tomb?”
“I can tell you that the reports of plunder were wrong. It was a virgin site. Untouched.”
“And no one was told?” he asked. “Not even your good buddy Mao?”
“The times, Mr. Malone. Those things were not then important. Mao’s Cultural Revolution caused countless amounts of Chinese history to be lost forever. The gangs broke pianists’ hands, burned books and paintings, forced surgeons to clean bathrooms, teachers to wear dunce hats. Mao wanted great disorder so as to achieve a greater order, through him. It was a time when we willingly destroyed our heritage. The terra-cotta army discovery eventually helped change such foolish thinking, but that was a few years off. At the time of my discovery, I chose to keep what I saw to myself.”
“But not anymore,” Cassiopeia added.
“I must return to China—”
“Unnoticed,” Malone said.
Pau nodded. “You have a way. I’m in need. But you have needs, too. Inside Qin’s tomb are hundreds of lamps, filled with oil. I even lit one.”
Their host led them back to the silk map on the opposite side of the room and pointed to its center. “That is Xianyang, Qin’s capital. The First Emperor’s tomb was built here, nearby. If you can get me to Xi’an, I can deliver the oil sample you seek.”
Malone studied the map more closely. He wished he could read the lettering on both its surface and in the surrounding border. “Are these ancient designations?”
Pau nodded.
“If we get you there, can you get back inside Qin’s tomb?” Cassiopeia asked.
“The library repository I located was refound just a few days ago, discovered adjacent to Pit 3 at the terra-cotta museum.”
“Then they found the way into the tomb,” Malone said.
“My reports are that those who found the chamber have been concentrating on the manuscripts. They have not found the entrance, and they will not. I concealed that passage well.”
“How do you know all this?” Malone asked.
“Karl Tang told me, just a short while ago. We spoke on the phone. He mentioned the manuscripts, but nothing about the entrance passage.”
That information piqued his interest.
“And why are you talking to Karl Tang?”
“We were once allies, but not any longer. I must return to China immediately. In return, I’ll show you the entrance to the tomb and provide a lamp filled with oil from the time of Qin Shi.”
“Where’s the dragon lamp?” Cassiopeia asked.
“Minister Ni Yong has taken it back to China. He came here, after you, in search of it, too. Since it’s unimportant, I let him have it.”
“He doesn’t know about the oil?”
Pau shook his head. “I did not tell him.”
“And you’re still not going to tell us why that oil is so important to Karl Tang,” Cassiopeia asked.
“I will. Once I’m in China.”
“Tell me this,” Malone said. “And your seat on the plane is dependent on a really good answer.” He paused. “How were you and Tang once allies?”
“We are both of the Ba. Eunuchs. Though I sense that you already suspected that.”
Yes, he had.
He found his cell phone and said, “I need to make a call.”
Pau motioned at the windows and the lit courtyard beyond.
Malone stepped outside and dialed Stephanie. She listened to his report and his request, spoke a moment with Ivan, who was there with her, then said, “We can make it happen. Bring him along.”
“Lot of trust we’re placing here.”
“I know,” she said. “One more thing, Cotton. Robin Hood from the museum, the one who tried to spear Cassiopeia. When they examined the body they discovered something interesting that’s now even more relevant.”
But he already knew. “He was a eunuch, too.”
TANG STOOD IN THE HALLWAY AND QUIETLY DIGESTED THE new developments.
The Americans were involved?
Unexpected, to say the least. But not insurmountable. He was about to step back inside and conclude his time with Lev Sokolov when the phone again demanded his attention.
He answered.
“My Russian handler just informed me,” Viktor said. “Malone, Vitt, and Pau are coming to China.”
“Do you know how?”
“The Russians are going to assist. They are working with the Americans.”
Troublesome on one count, a relief on another. He listened as Viktor explained the travel plan, then said, “That should allow us the opportunity to eliminate them all at once.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“When are you returning?”
“In a few hours. I’m already booked on a flight.”
“I’ll need you to personally take charge, once you’re here.” He thought of the spies in his office. “Communicate with me only. There are few here I can trust with this information.”
“I’ll finalize everything while on the way,” Viktor said.
“I realize that you may actually enjoy Malone’s death, but I’ve sensed that it’s a different matter with regard to Vitt. Earlier you made clear that she would not survive the night. Of course, that did not happen.”
“Because of Pau’s interference.”
“What you really mean is my interference.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. I ordered the strike on Ni, which failed. Pau obviously retaliated, which caused unforeseen problems.”
“You’re in charge,” Viktor said.
“Still, I sense you are somewhat glad I interfered, at least as it relates to her.”
“I do as you say.”
“I want to know.” He paused. “Any reluctance on your part to Vitt dying with the others?”
The line stayed silent a moment.
He waited.
“None,” Viktor said. “I’ll handle it.”
FORTY-ONE
HALONG BAY, VIETNAM
THURSDAY, MAY 17
7:00 AM
MALONE STARED AT THE MAGNIFICENT SCENE.
He knew the tale. Once, a great dragon ran toward the coast with its tail flailing, gouging valleys and crevasses along the way. As the beast plunged into the sea, water filled the low spots and left towering monoliths, like a crop of unfinished sculptures, one after the other, rising skyward. Standing on the dock, admiring Halong Bay, whose name meant “where the dragon descended into the sea,” he found it easy to believe that legend. The tranquil waters stretched over six hundred square miles, eventually spilling out into the Gulf of Tonkin. Three thousand islands dotted the turquoise expanse, most uninhabited blocks of gray limestone. Verdant shrubs and trees sheathed most of them, the startling contrast of their spring color to the dull sheen only adding to the surreal scene.
Malone, Pau Wen, Cassiopeia, Stephanie, and Ivan had flown on a U.S. Air Force EC-37 from Belgium to Hanoi. The modified Gulfstream had made the trip in a little over ten hours, thanks to a free pass over Russian airspace courtesy of Ivan. They’d then taken a helicopter for a short flight east to the coast and Quang Ninh province. Russia apparently enjoyed a close relationship with the Vietnamese, as their entrance into the country had been met with unquestioned cooperation. When Malone had inquired about the lovefest, Ivan had only smiled.
“Have you ever been here before?” Cassiopeia asked him.
