The Tomb of Genghis Khan Read online

  THE TOMB OF GENGHIS KHAN

  A JAMES ACTON THRILLER

  J. ROBERT KENNEDY

  About the James Acton Thrillers

  "James Acton: A little bit of Jack Bauer and Indiana Jones!"

  Though this book is part of the James Acton Thrillers series, it is written as a standalone novel and can be enjoyed without reading the other installments.

  What readers are saying about the James Acton Thrillers Series:

  “A great blend of history and current headlines.”

  “You stop breathing from the first page.”

  “If you like Indiana Jones then you will love these stories.”

  “The Acton series is one of the most entertaining and enjoyable series I have read.”

  “Non-stop action that is impossible to put down.”

  GET 5 FREE eBOOKS!

  Award winning and USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has sold over one million books, and is now giving some away for free! Join The Insider’s Club to be notified when new books are released, and as a thank you, get his 5 book Starter Library for free!

  Find out more at www.jrobertkennedy.com.

  Follow Robert on Facebook, BookBub, GoodReads and Twitter.

  BOOKS BY J. ROBERT KENNEDY

  The Templar Detective Thrillers

  The Templar Detective

  The Templar Detective and the Parisian Adulteress

  The Templar Detective and the Sergeant's Secret

  The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist

  The Templar Detective and the Code Breaker

  The James Acton Thrillers

  The Protocol

  Brass Monkey

  Broken Dove

  The Templar’s Relic

  Flags of Sin

  The Arab Fall

  The Circle of Eight

  The Venice Code

  Pompeii’s Ghosts

  Amazon Burning

  The Riddle

  Blood Relics

  Sins of the Titanic

  Saint Peter’s Soldiers

  The Thirteenth Legion

  Raging Sun

  Wages of Sin

  Wrath of the Gods

  The Templar’s Revenge

  The Nazi’s Engineer

  Atlantis Lost

  The Cylon Curse

  The Viking Deception

  Keepers of the Lost Ark

  The Tomb of Genghis Khan

  The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers

  Rogue Operator

  Containment Failure

  Cold Warriors

  Death to America

  Black Widow

  The Agenda

  Retribution

  State Sanctioned

  The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers

  Payback

  Infidels

  The Lazarus Moment

  Kill Chain

  Forgotten

  The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries

  Depraved Difference

  Tick Tock

  The Redeemer

  Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series

  The Turned

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Table of Contents

  The Novel

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Acknowledgments

  Don't Miss Out!

  Thank You!

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  For Deniz and Alex.

  “The greatest happiness is to vanquish your enemies, to chase them before you, to rob them of their wealth, to see those dear to them bathed in tears, to clasp to your bosom their wives and daughters.”

  Genghis Khan

  “I am the flail of God. Had you not created great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.”

  Genghis Khan

  PREFACE

  There are many variations on the notion, however the most famous quotation is ‘History is written by the victors.’ In 1227 AD, the leader of the Mongol Empire, Genghis Khan, died at the age of 65. This is historical fact that few dispute. What is disputed is how he died. Those who revered him, generally agreed he died from a wound he received in glorious battle.

  A fitting end to one of the most brutal warriors of all time, responsible for the deaths of perhaps 40 million people.

  Second only to his thirst for blood was his legendary, almost mythic, sexual appetite, with as many as 16 million descendants attributed to him.

  Legend has it that every night he demanded a beautiful virgin be brought to him, one who belonged to his most recently conquered foe. Is it then so hard to believe that one might have fought back, and perhaps even bested him?

  There is a legend that says this very thing did happen, though as we know, history is written by the victors, and those who tell this story were certainly victims, not victors.

  Yet if their story isn’t true, why was a Mongolian river, known at the time as the Yellow River, renamed Khatun Gol?

  The River of the Princess.

  1 |

  Mongolia Present Day

  Archaeology Professor James Acton cursed as his wife spun in her seat to see what he had just spotted in his rearview mirror, silhouetted against the moonlit sky. A helicopter, mere feet off the pavement, racing toward them on the lonely, barren road they had been traveling for almost two hours.

  And judging by its weapons pods, it wasn’t civilian.

  It was straight out of a Rambo movie.

  It’s gotta be a Hind.

  Russian made, big, brutal, and obviously Mongolian military.

  He pressed
harder on the accelerator.

  “You’re going to try and outrun them?” Archaeology Professor Laura Palmer’s voice was filled with incredulity. And he didn’t blame her. It was a stupid move. He eased up on the gas.

  “What should I do?”

  She stared at him for a moment, as uncertain as he was. “Stop before they shoot?”

  He sighed, nodding in agreement as he eased off the gas, slowly bringing them to a stop as the massive machine swept over them, banking hard to the right before landing a couple of hundred yards ahead of them. Troops poured from its innards, weapons raised as they surrounded their car, orders shouted at them in Mongolian, a language of which neither of them had an inkling of understanding.

  “Do you think they’re going to kill us?”

  Acton frowned as he stared at the soldiers, raising his hands, resisting the urge to take hers in his one last time, lest someone think he was reaching for a gun.

  And he cursed at himself, for they had both been right.

  This had been a colossally stupid move.

  And now they might pay the ultimate price for it.

  2 |

  Tangut Empire, Western Xia August 17, 1227 AD

  Mutukan roared as he leaned forward in his saddle, his sword extended in front of him, the reins gripped tightly in his other hand. His master, the great Genghis Khan, was slightly ahead, leading the charge as he always did when afforded the opportunity, a formidable warrior still, despite his advanced age.

  The man was an awe-inspiring sight, fearless in his intensity, beyond courageous, filled with a determination that suggested he knew nothing could stop him, nothing could hurt him.

  That he would never die.

  It had him wondering about his master’s visit with the Taoist monk rumored to possess an elixir of immortality. Had he provided the Khan with it? Was he now immortal, and was that why he had no fear?

  He dismissed the idea as someone shouted a warning of incoming arrows. He had been with the Khan since long before that meeting, and the bravery had always been there. The Khan simply feared nothing, no one. There was no enemy that could defeat him if he were leading the charge.

  And today’s enemy would be no exception. The Tangut had crossed the line yet again, and this time they were to be shown no mercy. Total loyalty was demanded should autonomy within the empire be desired. The Khan recognized that his empire was simply too vast to control everything himself, so should an enemy capitulate and swear allegiance—which included providing troops should they be needed—then they were left alone. Should they refuse, they were slaughtered. And should they betray their allegiance later, the results were often worse.

  Disloyalty would never be tolerated.

  When the Tangut had refused to provide soldiers for the campaign against the Khwarezmia, it had been the final straw, and today they would pay the ultimate price. He ducked, raising his shield against the thousands of arrows inbound, then resumed the charge, unscathed, though too many of his brothers had been struck.

  As had been the Khan.

  He urged his horse on faster, yet his leader didn’t slow. Instead, Mutukan shook his head in wonder as the arrow, embedded in his master’s thigh, was snapped off, the rest forgotten as blood trickled down the Khan’s leg, any pain ignored, any concern, if it existed at all, hidden.

  He was a living god, and his men would do anything for him, including sacrificing themselves should he ask them.

  The Tangut army lay ahead, scores already breaking ranks as the massive Mongol horde descended upon them. Death was certain, defeat inevitable, and as he swung his sword, defending his master’s right flank, he reveled in the blood, in the carnage, in the cries of those dying around him, begging for mercy, pleading for forgiveness.

  But no quarter would be shown today, for his master’s thirst for revenge appeared unquenchable, and his words echoed in Mutukan’s head.

  “I am the flail of God. Had you not created great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.”

  And today, whichever god had sent them, had unleashed a punishment that would soak the ground with blood for years to come.

  3 |

  Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia Present Day, Two Days Earlier

  Arban Namjiliin careened around the corner, the laws of physics taking over as he skidded hard, slamming into a parked car, the engine cutting out. He didn’t bother trying to restart it, instead throwing the door open and sprinting into a nearby alleyway as those pursuing him caught up, tires squealing as they came to a halt.

  He ducked around a corner, desperately searching for somewhere to hide, and spotted a doorway. He grabbed the handle and relief swept over him as it opened. He stepped inside, shoving the door closed as quickly and as quietly as he could, then looked for a means of escape.

  And cursed.

  There were no other doors, not even a window.

  He grabbed his phone as he crouched against the door, the shouts of his pursuers growing louder, then typed the text message he had been planning for hours, sighing with relief that he finally had a signal, the message sent to the one man in the world whose number he had in his phone, and who just might be able to help him.

  Archaeology Professor James Acton.

  4 |

  Milton Residence St. Paul, Maryland

  “There should be a law against that.”

  Professor James Acton wholeheartedly agreed with his best friend and boss, Dean of St. Paul’s University Gregory Milton. “Absolutely. It should be a crime to cancel a series on a cliffhanger. And they wonder why so many shows fail in their first season. I mean, I don’t bother watching anything new anymore, because I’m afraid they’re just going to cancel it on me and piss me off.”

  “So, you’re the problem.”

  Acton regarded his wife, Professor Laura Palmer. “I am?”

  “Well, too many people think like you do, so too many of you don’t watch the new shows, so they end up failing. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

  Milton’s wife Sandra laughed. “She’s got you there, Jim.”

  Acton gave his wife the stink eye briefly. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

  “I always am, darling, if you’re right.”

  “Well, we both know I’m always right.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure, when have you ever made the wrong decision?”

  He gave her a toothy smile. “Never!” He turned back to Milton, his best friend more likely to be on his side. “Like, how many series have the networks canceled on us, leaving us hanging? And they’re usually the best ones that have story arcs. Canceling a show like Law and Order is one thing. The stories are episodic. Cancel a show like The Terminator or Lois and Clark, where there’s a continuing storyline, and you piss people off. You alienate them.”

  Milton’s head bobbed as he took another sip of beer. “You’re preaching to the choir, brother. I was pissed when they canceled V! I mean, come on! If they know they’re going to cancel something, they should have to do a wrap-up episode. Like Firefly!”

  Acton drained his beer then jabbed a finger at Milton. “I can’t believe they canceled Firefly! Whoever did that should be fired. But at least they put out that movie Serenity and gave us a bit of a sendoff.”

  Laura rolled her head toward Sandra. “You do realize these two will go on about this for the next two hours if we don’t stop them.”

  Sandra laughed. “We are two lucky women, aren’t we?”

  Laura patted Acton on the arm. “It’s hard to tell sometimes.”

  Acton chuckled. “Okay, fine, what would you two like to talk about?”

  “Did you see the Bachelor last night?”

  Acton and Milton both leaned back in their chairs, their bodies rigid planks as they both executed exaggerated groans.

  Laura laughed, smacking his shoulder. “Just kidding, you bloody fool. You know I hate that crap.”

  Sandra agreed. “Me too. Now, the Bachelorette, that’s an entirely diff
erent story.”

  Laura was about to say something Acton was certain he’d find horrifying, when his phone vibrated on the table with a message. He swiped his thumb and his eyes widened as he read it, then shot wide. He sat up straight as he realized it might not be the hoax he thought as he saw who it was from.

  Laura picked up on his change in mood, turning toward him. “What is it?”

  “It’s a message from Arban Namjiliin. He was at the university a few years ago on exchange.”

  Milton’s head bobbed. “Yeah, I remember him. I approved the funding. Mongolian, wasn’t he?”

  Acton nodded, holding up his phone. “He just sent me this. ‘Professor, I’m in trouble. I don’t know who to trust. I think they’re going to kill me.’”

  Sandra gasped and Laura’s jaw dropped. Laura leaned closer to get a better look at the message. “Is that it? Does he say who?”

  Acton shook his head. “No, that’s it.”

  “Call him back,” urged Sandra.

  He was about to do just that when he paused.

  “What?” asked Laura.

  “Well, if he could call, he would have. Mongolia probably has horrendous cellphone service. He texted for a reason.” He tapped out a message, sending it, and waited, his breath held, when a small red circle appeared indicating the message had failed to get through. “No go.” He tried twice more before giving up.

  Milton set his beer aside. “We need to tell someone.”

  Acton agreed. “But who?”

  “His government? His place of employment?”

  Acton shook his head. “He said he didn’t know who he could trust. For all we know it’s his government or employer that wants him dead.”

  Sandra frowned. “If it’s his government…”