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She glanced at him, offered a quick smile. “However long it takes them to dislodge a half dozen crates from under their chassis.”
15
HYATT REGENCY HOTEL,
KATHMANDU, NEPAL
Sam stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and rubbing his hair with another. “You hungry for a nice breakfast?”
“Famished,” replied Remi. She was sitting at a table in front of a mirror, tying her hair into a ponytail. She wore the standard white towel of the hotel.
“Room service or go down to the dining room?”
“The weather is perfect. Let’s dine out on the balcony.”
“Sounds good.” Sam walked over to an end table, picked up the phone, and dialed room service. “I’d like one salmon and a bagel, one eggs Benedict, a bowl of fruit, and sourdough toast and coffee.” He waited until the voice in the kitchen repeated the order correctly. Then he rang off and called the bar.
When the bartender answered, Sam asked, “I’d like two Ramos Fizzes. Yes, a Ramos Fizz.”
“You know how to treat a lady,” said Remi.
“Don’t get your hopes up. He doesn’t know how to make one.” Sam tried again.
“How about a Harvey Wallbanger. Wallbanger. It’s made with vodka, Galliano, and orange juice. I see, no Galliano.” Sam shook his head and tried once more. “All right, send up a bottle of Veuve Clicquot.”
Remi laughed. “You really know how to treat a lady.”
“That’s the best you can do?” said Sam into the phone. “Okay, send it up well chilled.
He set the receiver back in its cradle. “No champagne. The only thing left after a political convention is a sparkling white from China.”
“I didn’t know the Chinese made anything sparkling.” She looked at him with a sarcastic smile. “Is that the best you can do?”
Sam shrugged. “Any port in the storm.”
The phone rang. Sam picked it up. “One moment.” He switched on the speaker.
“Morning, Rube,” Sam said into the speakerphone.
“For you, maybe,” Rube replied. “It’s dinner time here. I hear you and your lovely bride are enjoying yet another relaxing vacation.”
“Everything is relative, Rube,” Remi replied. “How’re Kathy and the girls?”
“Great. They’re at Chuck E. Cheese’s right now. Your call saved me from going.”
“Don’t let us keep you,” Sam said with a half smile. “We can talk later.”
“Oh, no, my friend. There’s nothing more important than this. Trust me. Okay, brief me. Are you in jail? How many local laws have you broken?”
“No. And none that we’re aware of,” Remi replied. “I’ll let Sam explain.”
Though aware Rube had already received some information from Selma, Sam started at the beginning, with Zhilan Hsu boarding their boat near Pulau Legundi and ending with their escape from King’s covert archaeological site.
The night before, after leaving their pursuers stalled on the bridge, Sam had driven through the darkness, looking for signs or landmarks that Remi could match to her map. After several hours of fruitless turns and dead ends, they finally crossed a recognizable mountain pass—the Laurebina—and not long after pulled into the outskirts of Pheda, some twenty miles due east of the camp. Predictably, they’d found the village dark and lifeless save a cinder-block and tin-roofed building that turned out to be the local pub. After breaking through the considerable language barrier, they managed to make a trade with the owner: their truck for his car—a thirty-year-old orange–and–primer gray Peugeot—and directions back to Kathmandu. Just before dawn, they pulled into the Hyatt Regency’s parking lot.
Rube listened to Sam’s story without speaking. Finally he asked, “Let me make sure I understand this: you snuck into King’s camp, witnessed a murder, wreaked havoc with what were probably a guard contingent of Chinese soldiers, then stole one of their trucks that happened to be loaded with black market fossils, which you then used as depth charges to stop your pursuers. Does that about cover it?”
“More or less,” Sam said.
