The Prisoner's Gold (The Hunters 3) (20 page)

‘They’re almost on you,’ McNutt said. His voice was soft, as if he was afraid of being overheard. ‘On my mark, you leap high like you’re an Olympic hurdler. Understand?’

‘Yep,’ was all she could muster between breaths.

The security guards were less than ten feet behind her now. She was in great shape, but they were actually gaining on her.

Must be soccer players
, she thought.

As she approached an alley on her left, she heard McNutt’s voice.

‘Now!’ he blurted.

She leaped like a track star, and as she did she saw McNutt tumbling below her. A slim black case was strapped to his back, and his aluminum crutch went flailing.

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

To the pursuing guards, the suspect had just knocked over a crippled man, who tumbled to the ground with a shriek of pain. Worse still, they ran headlong into the crash so they had no time or space to avoid him. They collided with him at full speed: arms, legs, and crutch all tangled in a frenzied dance of calamity.

McNutt grunted and groaned but did not speak – words would reveal that he was not Italian. The guards rapidly disentangled themselves, blurting apologies in their native tongue before darting off down the lane. But the damage was done. The suspect’s lead was too great now.

Of course, Sarah didn’t know that.

After taking one for the team, McNutt decided to have some fun with her. ‘Sarah! It didn’t work! They’re gaining fast! Oh my God, run faster!’

‘What?’ she blurted. ‘Where are they? I don’t see them.’

‘Neither do I,’ Garcia said as he stared at his CCTV feed.

‘Sweet lord, they must have wings. They’re actually flying!’

‘They’re airborne?’ Garcia shouted, his voice filled with confused panic. ‘How are they airborne?’

McNutt started to laugh. ‘I’m just kidding! I got you both. April Fools!’

‘April Fools?’ Sarah shouted. ‘I’m running for my life, and you’re pulling a prank?’

‘That’s the best time to pull one. No way you expected it.’

‘I know I didn’t,’ Garcia said, laughing. ‘That was awesome!’

Still smiling, McNutt grabbed his crutch and limped down the alley even though he didn’t really need the support anymore. He’d brought it mostly for camouflage. People tended to avert their eyes from injured and disabled people. The crutch made him nearly invisible.

‘Josh,’ Garcia said. ‘End of the alley, turn left.’

A few minutes later, a car slowed next to him. He tossed the crutch and the bag with the rifle into the trunk and slammed it shut. Then he slipped into the back seat next to Sarah, who was wearing a white blouse over her black catsuit. She smiled at him sweetly, and then punched him in the arm as hard as she could.

‘That’s for messing with me,’ she said.

He laughed it off. It was totally worth it.

As the car drove back toward the Ponte Vecchio, they passed the Uffizi security guards, walking dejectedly along the side of the road.

They didn’t give the attractive blonde more than a glance.

The brunette they were after had escaped.

Thursday, April
3

Hong Kong International Airport

People’s Republic of China

The team arrived in China on the private jet after a grueling fifteen-hour trip across Europe and Asia, made two hours longer by a refueling stop in Bahrain. They had all slept in varying amounts on the way over, but none of them felt well rested when Papineau handed their passports to the customs officer. The man barely glanced at the documents before stamping them and handing them back – not that anyone was surprised.

Papineau had connections all over the world.

‘What’s first?’ asked McNutt, who had convinced the team it would be much easier to procure weapons in the smuggler’s haven of Hong Kong than mainland China.

‘We check into our hotel and try to sleep,’ Cobb said. ‘Tomorrow we pick up our supplies. Tomorrow night we fly to Beijing. So get some rest tonight.’

Papineau nodded his approval. ‘I am relieved to hear you say that. I think we could all do with some time off.’

During their long flight, Maggie had translated the journal that they had acquired from the gallery. The guard’s notes painted a detailed picture of his torture sessions with Marco Polo, but nothing in his narrative stood out except for a reference to ‘a crumbling barrier that stretched across the land for as far as the eye could see.’

To a layman, the description would seem trivial.

Thankfully, Maggie understood its true importance.

Many of Polo’s harshest critics believed his tales of the Far East were fabricated because he never mentioned the Great Wall in any of his writings, but this quote would change everything. Finally, there was evidence that would silence his skeptics forever.

Still, something bothered Maggie about the quote.

If Polo found the Wall to be so impressive, why did he never speak of it again?

Eventually, she came up with a theory on her own.

Maybe the Wall played a vital role in the location of the treasure.

* * *

As expected, Maggie led the group outside to the limousine that Papineau had arranged. Unlike during her two weeks in Florida where she sometimes struggled to fit in with the team dynamic, her confidence was soaring now that she was back on familiar turf.

‘Hector, is this your first time in Hong Kong?’ she asked.

Garcia nodded. ‘I don’t travel much. I work best in an air-conditioned room with tons of computing power.’

‘Then I’m sure you’ll feel right at home while we visit the Great Wall. The hotel in Beijing is world-class.’

Garcia raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You’re going with them? I figured you’d hang back with me. You know, doing the academic thing.’

She shook her head. ‘The man we’re meeting is an old friend of mine. He’ll be much more forthright with his answers if I’m asking the questions.’

As the team climbed into the limo, the driver glanced in the rearview mirror. ‘Your destination?’

Papineau answered. ‘The Peninsula Hotel, please.’

Garcia’s eyes lit up. ‘We’re staying at the Peninsula?’

‘Yes,’ Papineau said. ‘Why? Is there a problem?’

‘No, sir. Great choice,’ Garcia said with a smile. Unlike the rest of the group, Garcia knew the Peninsula Hotel and its fleet of Rolls Royce courtesy cars had been featured in
The Man with the Golden Gun
, one of his favorite James Bond films. ‘Couldn’t be happier.’

‘Thank you,’ Papineau said warmly. ‘I’m glad
someone
appreciates my effort.’

Sarah rolled her eyes and changed the subject. ‘Maggie, I don’t mean to be nosy, but what were you telling Hector about your friend in Beijing?’

‘His name is Dr Chu Shen, and he is a leading authority on the Great Wall of China.’

‘And you think he’ll be able to shed some light on Polo’s travels?’ she asked.

Maggie nodded. ‘In addition to being an expert on the Great Wall, he’s an expert on Chinese history. If anyone can tell us about the connection between Polo and the Wall, it is Professor Chu.’

After that, the ride along the North Lantau Highway was quiet for a while. Each jet-lagged passenger took in the relatively dull sights of the vegetation covering the retaining walls on one side of the road and the scenic mountains of Lantau Island on the other. Occasionally they would catch a glimpse of the sea.

Eventually, McNutt spoke. ‘Where are all the skyscrapers?’

Maggie answered. ‘They are all on Hong Kong Island. We are on Lantau Island now. We’ll cross the Ma Wan channel to the mainland and then swing around south toward Tsim Sha Tsui. You’ll see all the buildings then. The view from the hotel is quite amazing.’

McNutt grinned. He was wide awake while Cobb and Garcia were fast asleep. Sarah was nodding off with glazed slits for eyes. ‘Say that name again.’

‘Which one?’

‘Chim Cha Choi. What’s that?’

Maggie corrected him. ‘Tsim Sha Tsui. It’s an area of Kowloon.’

‘Cow-loon? Is that where mad-cow disease comes from? If so, I need to stay away from that place. I like a good burger, but I don’t get along with farm animals. They sense my hatred, I think. Or maybe they smell burgers on my breath. Whatever the case, no cows for me.’

Maggie smiled at McNutt’s rambling and gently patted him on the knee like a Victorian schoolmistress correcting a wayward student. ‘Hong Kong is actually a collection of a few places: Hong Kong Island; the peninsula of Kowloon, which points downward toward the island; and an area known as the New Territories. There are also two hundred other islands that fall under the collective name of Hong Kong.’

‘So the Peninsula Hotel – that’s on Kowloon?’ McNutt asked.

‘Correct. It is at the very southern tip of the peninsula, hence the name. So your view of the harbor between Kowloon and Hong Kong Island will be impressive.’

‘And the Tsim place?’

‘The southern portion of the Kowloon peninsula, where the best shopping is located.’

McNutt pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and read the name he had scribbled earlier. ‘And where is … Wan Chai? I need to head there, later today.’

‘Wan Chai? It’s the business district, right across the harbor from the hotel. You can take a ferryboat across the water, if you’d like. What do you need in Wan Chai?’

‘Something special … just for me.’

The grin on his face told her it was a weapon.

‘Would you like me to come with you? I know the area quite well.’

‘No thanks,’ McNutt said. ‘These guys will only deal with me.’

Hong Kong Harbor

Designed to look like a Ming Dynasty junk, the triple-masted ship’s square, maroon sails billowed in the breeze. Despite its historical appearance, the boat was powered by propellers and filled with the latest technology. Like its owner, the yacht honored the old traditions of Ancient China but embraced the modern world.

Feng He leaned forward in his deck chair and smiled his best smile.

The man across from Feng was an American named Harold Ledner. He was proposing the sale of Mobility, his telecommunications company, to China Mobile, the world’s number one telecom, for an exceedingly reasonable price of $130 billion. Although Feng wasn’t the actual buyer – China Mobile was – Feng would get the credit in his homeland even though the world media would never hear his name.

That was just how Feng preferred things.

Ledner wanted assurances about a variety of things, none of which Feng actually intended to deliver on. He just had to put on a good show. Drinks, women, the ship’s sail – it was all a part of his sales pitch. Yet another attempt to convince a decadent Westerner into giving up something valuable for much less than it was worth.

Feng had dealt with hundreds like him before.

He knew what buttons to push.

The acquisition of Ledner’s company would do wonders for Feng in political circles, but unlike some businessmen who focused only on the bottom line, this transaction had little to do with money. Feng’s chief goal was securing China for the Chinese. Telecommunications was a booming business, and even though China Mobile had the number one spot, Verizon and AT&T were constantly eyeing China as the new frontier. The way to stop them was simple: Feng would acquire all of the smaller companies – like Ledner’s and his closest competitors – then he would use the increased revenue to buy out Verizon. After that, if AT&T didn’t get the hint to stay out of China, he would gun for them, too.

Ledner took a sip of his single malt Scotch, savoring the 40-year-old limited edition Bunnahabhain. Feng swirled the similarly colored liquid in his own glass: nothing more than apple juice over ice: the same trick Elvis Presley used to employ.

‘Let’s get down to brass tacks, Mr Feng. If China Mobile buys out Mobility, it’ll put you in a perfect place to take on the competition in America. What are your plans for the US?’

Feng smiled while seething inside.

Why did Americans always assume that everything revolved around their country?

Feng couldn’t care less about economic development in America. He only cared about the 1.4 billion people in China. Ledner still thought the whims of the market were dictated by what Americans bought and sold. Instead, it would be the rising Chinese middle and upper classes that would sway the world.

‘I have no plans to take on AT&T. They would crush us. The same with Verizon. No, we’ll be happy to keep your European clients and our hold on the Asian market.’ Feng leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. ‘We’re actually focusing on Africa. If the sub-Saharan countries ever get their acts together, the market will be huge.’

Ledner laughed. ‘You know what they say about fixing Africa. Can’t be done – internally or externally.’

‘Perhaps. But with money thrown at agriculture and education, instead of pointless NGOs and unstable petty warlords, a company like China Mobile might have a chance.’

‘Good luck with that,’ Ledner said with a laugh. ‘So, no interest in the US?’

Ledner seemed surprised, but Feng knew it was exactly what the man wanted to hear. He was happy to make a fortune selling to China, so long as the Chinese didn’t make further inroads into his country.

‘None,’ Feng lied. ‘The competition is too tough. You know how Asians are. We’ll sit back and wait until the competition shoots itself in the foot. Then we’ll offer a helping hand when AT&T is dying – if it ever comes to that. But we don’t want to walk in the door. The American people will gladly buy foreign TVs from Wal-Mart, but they’ll never pay a monthly bill to a Chinese telecom.’

Ledner laughed again. ‘Truer words, my friend, truer words.’

I am not your friend, you overweight slug
, Feng thought, yet he managed to keep the disgust from his face. They hadn’t signed the papers yet, but the deal was done.

Just then Lim Bao appeared at Feng’s side. While Feng had more athletic ability and raw power than Lim did, the smaller man was stealthier than a cat.

He leaned down and whispered into Feng’s ear.

‘A situation, sir,’ he said in Cantonese. While Ledner might be familiar with the Chinese Mandarin language, it was extremely unlikely he could speak Cantonese, a far more complex one, with eight ‘tones’ to Mandarin’s four.