He lunged.
Viktor countered, deflecting the jab, sliding his lance across Malone’s, angling downward, then twisting back.
Malone held tight and deflected the maneuver.
Viktor’s brow was covered in sweat. Malone, too, was warm from the fires burning less than thirty feet away. He decided the braziers might present an opportunity, so he cowered back, dueling with Viktor, drawing his opponent closer. Each hearth stood on three-legged iron stands, elevated about four feet off the floor.
Just unstable enough for his purposes.
Viktor kept coming, following Malone’s lead.
NI PRESSED THE EDGE OF THE BLADE INTO PAU’S NECK. THE OLD man was not resisting, but the two brothers, though unarmed, worried Ni.
He kept his attention on them.
“You can both learn something from their courage,” Pau said.
Tang seemed to resent the jab. “I didn’t know that I lacked courage.”
“Did I tell you to kill Jin Zhao?” Pau asked. “He was a brilliant geochemist. A husband and grandfather. Harmless. Yet you arrested and beat him into a coma. Then you had him falsely convicted and shot while he lay unconscious in his hospital bed. Does that exhibit courage?”
Tang’s shock at the rebuke was obvious.
“When you trapped rats on Sokolov’s stomach and watched his agony, was that courage? When you destroyed Qin Shi’s library, how much courage did that require?”
“I have done nothing but faithfully serve you,” Tang declared.
“Did I tell you to burn that museum to the ground in Antwerp? One of our brothers died in that fire.” Tang said nothing.
“And you, Minister Ni,” Pau said. “How much courage is required to slit an old man’s neck?”
“Not much, so it should be an easy matter for me.”
“You sell yourself short,” Pau said. “In my home you faced the challenge of those killers. It is similar to what we are watching here, as two men confront each other. Both came here totally unaware of what awaited them. Yet they came. That is courage.”
CASSIOPEIA COULD SEE THAT COTTON WAS DRAWING VIKTOR toward the brazier. She debated whether to intervene, but she commanded only one arrow. The robed man unconscious on the floor beside her carried no more.
Revealing her presence now would be counterproductive.
She had one shot, so it had to count.
MALONE KNEW HE WAS CLOSE TO THE HEAT. HE COULD HEAR snapping coals behind him as he fended off another thrust from Viktor’s lance.
He needed a moment, so he swept his spear around in a wide arc, which forced Viktor to grab the shaft with two hands, countering, blocking the blow. In the moment when Viktor readjusted his grip and prepared a strike of his own, Malone slammed his right foot into the iron stand, toppling the copper vessel.
Hot coals spilled across the floor, hissing and smoking.
Viktor cowered back, caught off guard.
Malone used the tip of his spear to pluck one of the coals from the floor.
He slung it toward Viktor, who sidestepped the white-hot projectile.
Malone speared another hot coal and this time slung the ember toward where the other men stood.
NI WATCHED AS MALONE TOSSED ONE OF THE COALS THEIR way. The smoking chunk flew over Tang’s head and disappeared into the shelves behind him. Silks within one of the bins vaporized from the heat, the manuscripts literally disappearing before his eyes.
EIGHTY
MALONE TOSSED THE SPEAR ASIDE, FACED VIKTOR, AND ALLOWED his black mood to envelop him. “We finish this now.”
Viktor did not hesitate. He lost his weapon, too. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”
They sprang into each other, both landing punches. Viktor’s caught Malone near the left temple and the room exploded in a whirl of lights.
He lashed out with his leg, catapulting Viktor, buying the moment he needed to plant a right jab into Viktor’s jaw.
A vicious kick to his lower leg twisted Malone sideways.
He absorbed a couple of blows, drawing Viktor closer. Before a third punch could be landed, he popped Viktor’s throat, then slammed a solid right into the rib cage.
The thin air sliced his lungs like razor blades.
He advanced on Viktor, who was coming back upright, one hand across his gut, his face contorted in rage.
“I’m going to kill you, Malone.”
CASSIOPEIA HEARD VIKTOR’S DECLARATION. EVERY NERVE IN his body seemed taut. He’d plunged into the hall intent on a confrontation. Cotton seemed likewise wired tight.
She was careful to stay behind the pillar, out of sight.
A sharp cry from below drew her attention.
MALONE HEARD A YELL AS VIKTOR’S SHOULDER SLAMMED INTO his chest. Momentum drove them both off their feet. Together they pounded into the hard floor and slid.
Something popped in his own shoulder.
Searing pain shot through his brain and heat surged at the back of his head. He smelled the pungent scent of burning hair.
His own.
Viktor was on top, hands to Malone’s throat.
TANG WAS SHOCKED BY PAU WEN’S VERBAL ATTACK. NEVER HAD the master spoken to him like that, outside of their scripted conversations, performed for Ni’s benefit.
He wondered if this were another—Pau doing what he did best, improvising. He decided to play along. “I was unaware that you thought me such a coward.”
“There are many things you are unaware of.”
“Like the imperial library you found decades ago? Or the fact that you looted Qin Shi’s tomb and brought everything here?”
“All done before you rose to any position of prominence. I, on the other hand, was Hegemon.”
“Why did you flee the pit in Xi’an, with the brothers, leaving Malone and Vitt alive? They should have died there.” That he truly did want to know.
“With all the attention that would have generated? Not even you, the first vice premier, could have explained that.”
“If you think me so incompetent, why are we doing this?”
“Tell him, Minister,” Pau said to Ni. “Why are we doing this?”
NI WAS NOT FOOLED BY PAU’S REBUKE OF TANG, BUT HE DECIDED to answer the inquiry with a question of his own. “How many people are you willing to kill for power?”
“As many as necessary,” Tang said.
“Then the answer to your question is clear,” he said in Pau’s ear. “You are doing this so that a great many people may die.”
A SUDDEN RUSH OF PAIN TO THE TOP OF HIS SKULL ENERGIZED Malone. He swung his right arm up and wrapped Viktor’s neck in a vise grip, rolling, reversing the situation.
Viktor landed atop the coals, which crunched beneath his jacket.
They rolled again, this time away from the heat. But Malone had a problem. His left shoulder hurt badly, and the pain robbed his right arm of strength.
And Viktor pounced.
CASSIOPEIA SAW COTTON REACH FOR HIS LEFT SHOULDER JUST as Viktor swung a fist upward, clipping his jaw, toppling him backward. Viktor seized the moment and found the gun that had slid away at the beginning of the brawl.
She had to do something.
So she reached for the knife in her pocket and tossed it over the rail, angling for the coals near Cotton.
MALONE HEARD SOMETHING LAND IN THE EMBERS.
His eyes darted right and he spotted a knife at the same moment Viktor found the gun.
His shoulder was probably dislocated. Every movement sent electric agony to his brain. His right hand gripped his left arm, trying to hold the joint in place even as he reached for the blade—warm to the touch—flipping the tip between his fingers, ready to toss.
Viktor’s eyes were two hard flints.
Icy sweat beaded on both of their brows.
Viktor aimed the gun.
TANG CRIED OUT IN MANDARIN, “NOW.”
And the two brothers in the shadows raced forward, leveling their crossbows at Ni.
“Your show of courage is over,” Tang said. He caught a look of satisfaction in Pau’s eyes and said, “I thought ahead.”
“You apparently think little of your master,” Ni replied.
“On the contrary. I regard him highly. Enough that if you kill him, we shall kill you.”
“You believe him?” Ni asked Pau. “Or will he kill us both?”
“Lower the blade,” Pau quietly said to Ni.
NI COULD SEE THAT HIS OPTIONS WERE GONE. HE COULD KILL Pau Wen and die right now, or he could lower the weapon and take his chances.
Tang, not Pau, was who deserved to die.
He withdrew the blade and tossed it to the floor.
CASSIOPEIA AIMED HER BOW DOWNWARD, READYING HERSELF. She was unsure of what was happening, other than the fact that Cotton was hurt, Viktor was pissed, Ni was in trouble, and she was in a position to do something.
“Don’t do it,” she shouted.
MALONE HEARD CASSIOPEIA’S VOICE.
His head spun toward its source and he saw a crossbow projecting from the shadows of the first-floor gallery, near one of the pillars, aimed at Viktor.
“Drop the gun,” she yelled. “Now.”
Malone stared at Viktor, who did not move, the weapon held tight with both hands, eyes sighting an aim straight at Malone’s chest.
“Shoot me and she shoots you,” he said to Viktor.
He doubted he could flick the blade before the gun fired.
“That’s my knife,” Viktor quietly said. “I gave it to her.”
“And she gave it to me.”
Which spoke volumes.
Viktor’s eyes closed, then opened. Malone caught a flicker of understanding, the gaze telegraphing a different intention from the aimed weapon. Then he knew. What Stephanie had said.
Actually, we’d like Tang dead.
“You take care of her, Malone,” Viktor said.
Then he swung around and adjusted his aim.
Straight at Karl Tang.
TANG GREW IMPATIENT OF VIKTOR’S FACE-OFF WITH MALONE.
What was he waiting for?
He grabbed the crossbow from the brother beside him and yelled, “Shoot him now, or I’ll shoot you.”
Viktor whirled.
Every fear he’d ever harbored for this foreigner now bubbled to the surface as the gun barrel focused on him.
He fired the crossbow.
An instant later the arrow slammed into Viktor Tomas.
The other brother, sensing danger, had likewise readjusted his aim. A second arrow pierced Viktor’s chest, the shaft sinking deep. Viktor choked, blood spewing from his mouth. The gun fell from his grip. A hand came to the throat.
His knees dissolved into jelly.
Then he collapsed.
CASSIOPEIA WINCED AS VIKTOR’S BODY WAS PIERCED IN QUICK succession by two high-speed arrows. Only a few seconds passed before he teetered, tried to find his balance, then collapsed to the floor with a grunt.
She stepped from the shadows to the balustrade, aimed her bow at Karl Tang, and fired.
NI REALIZED THAT CASSIOPEIA VITT WAS IN THE UPPER GALLERY and apparently armed. The two brothers had shot their arrows. The foreigner was down. Malone held a knife, but he was a long way away.
She was their only chance.
Vitt came into view, a crossbow in her hand, and she fired.
Tang, though, had anticipated the move, diving to his right.
The arrow found the floor and careened away.
MALONE COULD SEE THAT CASSIOPEIA’S SHOT HAD MISSED. HE held the knife, but little good it could do.
The gun.
Which lay near Viktor.
He had to get it.
TANG CAME TO HIS FEET AND DARTED TOWARD THE SWORD NI Yong had discarded. He gripped the hilt and commanded the two brothers to seize Ni.
He’d show Pau Wen who possessed courage.
He cocked his arm and advanced toward Ni.
NI TRIED TO FREE HIMSELF BUT THE TWO BROTHERS WERE strong. Pau Wen had drifted away, closer to the shelves, watching.
His gaze darted out into the hall.
Malone was searching for something.
Tang was less than three meters away, the arm holding the sword ready to thrust the blade into his gut.
MALONE FOUND THE GUN.
The pain in his shoulder was excruciating. He’d doubted he would have been able even to toss the knife. His right hand lifted the weapon, finger on the trigger. He wondered if there were more brothers in the hall, preparing at this moment to skewer him, too.
No matter.
He had no choice.
He aimed the gun and fired.
TANG HEARD A RETORT, THEN FELT SOMETHING POUND INTO his right side. Strange, the feeling. Nothing at first, then unimaginable pain, as if a surge of energy had passed through him, scorching his insides.
He stopped his advance and staggered to the right.
He stared out into the hall and saw Cotton Malone aiming a gun straight at him.
Another bang, and a bullet pierced his chest.
A third shot.
Then he saw nothing at all.
EIGHTY-ONE
CASSIOPEIA HAD BEEN SHOCKED BY VIKTOR’S DEATH. TANG’S, though, pleased her. His head exploded with Cotton’s final volley, propelling him off his feet, to the floor.
“None of you move,” Malone called out, the gun still aimed. “Minister Ni, get that sword.”
Ni obeyed.
“This matter is now over,” Pau Wen calmly called out.
NI STOOD WITH THE SWORD IN HAND.
He stared at Pau Wen and said, “Explain yourself.”
“You and I spoke in Belgium. You believed I lied to you there. I did not. Everything I said was the truth. China must change. What that change is to be was the question. A return to strict Legalism? Autocracy? Or something gentler? Confucianism? Democracy? I confess that, in the beginning, twenty years ago, I thought a return to Legalism the answer. But I no longer know that to be certain. What I do know is that both the decline and the glory of a state can arise from a single source.”
“Those are Confucius’ words,” Ni said.
“That they are. He was a wise man.”
“Strange talk from a Legalist.”
Pau shook his head. “I am no such thing.”
MALONE LISTENED TO THE EXCHANGE BETWEEN NI AND PAU, but kept his gun ready, his eyes searching the hall.
“Decades ago,” Pau said. “I removed all of the Confucian texts from Qin Shi’s buried library. Those words had to survive. It would have been criminal to destroy them. Now they are ready for your use, however you see fit. Those ethics may be precisely what China needs to help counter both corruption and the growing inequality in our society.” Pau hesitated. “Minister, the Ba has not been a party to this battle between you and Tang. We influenced nothing, we took no side.”
“Tang was one of yours.”
Pau nodded. “That he was. But that does not mean I wanted him to succeed. The battle had to occur, without interference, and it has. You have now prevailed. From this day forward, the Ba pledges its allegiance to you.”
“Why would I believe a word of that?” Ni asked.
Malone wanted to know the answer, too.
“Tang’s discovery of infinite oil changed everything. The power of that discovery became too much for him. His ambition took hold. I came to fear that he would be no better than those who came before him.”
“Yet you allowed my life to be threatened. You allowed all of us to be captured by Tang.”
“And brought here, Minister. I made sure that happened.”
Ni did not seemed impressed. “You are a murderer.”
“Four men died in Belgium. But was that not self-defense?”
“Not the one you tortured, then shot in the head.”
“Where’s Sokolov?” Cassiopeia called out from above.
“He is safe,” Pau said.
Malone decided to keep quiet about the actual locat
ion. He wasn’t necessarily buying Pau as an ally. Instead, he kept his gun aimed and asked, “How will Tang’s death be explained?”
“He will suffer a car crash, here in the mountains,” Pau answered. “He had come to clear his head, refresh his spirit.”
“And the bullet holes?”
“Tragically, the car caught fire, the body burned to a cinder.”
Ni stood silent a moment, holding the sword.
Malone kept the gun trained, but Pau never moved. “It’s your call, Minister,” Malone said to Ni. “What do we do?”
“I believe him,” Ni said.
“Why?” Cassiopeia called out.
“Lower your weapons,” Ni ordered.
Malone wondered about the strategy but realized they were stuck in a mountain stronghold with an indeterminate number of men surrounding them and little in the way of weapons besides a sword and a few rounds in his gun. He decided to trust Ni’s judgment and lowered the gun.
He glanced up, asking Cassiopeia, “You okay?” Thank God she was alive.
“I’m okay. How about you?”
“Shoulder took a hit.”
“You both risked your lives coming here,” Ni said to them.
“And Viktor gave his,” she said.
Pau faced Ni. “You asked me in Belgium why I care. I told you then the explanation would take too much time. I also told you that my only interest was what would be best for China. I was speaking the truth.”
Ni remained silent.
“The Ba,” Pau said, “was created to ensure a strong political system that guaranteed a collective safety. In the early dynasties, force and violence worked best to accomplish both goals. But over time, those have become less effective. Today, as you know, they are counterproductive. The Ba is about the preservation of China, not the preservation of itself. What is best for the nation is what we support. The battle between you and Tang was inevitable. No one could stop it from occurring. But we could be there when it ended.”