Embassy of the Empire Read online

  “I am. “

  “I’m Special Agent Yan from the Ministry of State Security.”

  Bile filled Cao’s mouth at the mention of one of the most feared agencies in the country, but he had little time to react. A tablet computer was shoved in his face, a picture of Acton displayed. “We are looking for this man.” The screen was swiped, revealing Laura Palmer. “And this woman. Our records show they should be here.”

  The strength left Cao’s body and he forced himself to take a breath before he passed out. The MSS was looking for Acton and his wife, and the omission of the Australian students made it clear this wasn’t a sweep of Westerners, but a hunt specifically for his friends.

  “They were here,” he finally managed to say. “But they left when the warnings were issued by their embassies.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “The instructions were to return to their hotel, so my understanding was that’s where they went.”

  “And what hotel are they staying at?”

  For a brief moment, Cao thought he might help his friends by giving the wrong hotel, then quickly shoved that thought aside, as the government would already know from their entry records. “Hyatt Place. It’s on―”

  “I know where it is. Do you have numbers where they can be reached?”

  “I do, in my trailer. I can get them for you if you want.”

  “Do that.”

  Cao checked his watch. “The late shift is about to end. Is it okay if I dismiss the team now, or do you need to speak with them?”

  Yan eyed him. “Who is funding this dig?”

  “A combination of organizations.”

  “Are any of those Chinese?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’ll work your full day. Your country isn’t paying you to leave work early.”

  Cao should’ve known better. He wasn’t thinking clearly, and if he weren’t careful, he could get not only himself in trouble, but everyone here. He bowed in deference to a man half his age. “You are correct, of course. Let me go get those numbers for you.”

  “You do that, and have any other foreigners that may be here report to me.”

  “They’ve all left. There were only the professors and two Australian students who left for their hotel at the same time. I’m sure you’ll find everyone where they’re supposed to be.”

  Yan said nothing, instead pointing at the pit.

  Cao headed for the ladder and slid down its rails, then rushed to his trailer. He stepped inside and closed the door. He grabbed his phone and jotted down the two phone numbers he had for Acton and his wife, and stared at his computer. He desperately wanted to send an email to Acton’s emergency contact to tell him what was going on, yet knew full well that any message he sent could be read.

  He eyed his desk drawer where he kept a phone used only when he was out of the country. He yanked open the drawer and grabbed the device, intentionally selected for not being of Chinese manufacture. He turned it on, but to his dismay, found the battery dead. He jabbed the end of the charger into the phone, his heart hammering dangerously now, before the device finally showed any signs of life. He waited for it to finish loading then sent a text message to Dean Gregory Milton. He watched for it to go through then deleted it, unplugged the phone, and stuffed it in the back of the drawer, and prayed the message went through.

  And that he hadn’t just signed his own death warrant.

  Somebody pounded the door of his trailer and he shoved the desk drawer closed then plugged the charger into the bottom of his Chinese-registered phone. Yan threw open the door, stepping inside, glaring at him. “What’s taking you so long?”

  Cao forced a smile and pointed at his phone. “Sorry, the battery was dead. I had to let it charge for a minute.” He handed him the piece of paper with the numbers. “These are the two cellphone numbers I have for them.”

  Yan snatched the page from Cao’s hands and pulled out his own cellphone. He dialed the first number, then the second, the intensity on his face growing as each moment passed. “They’re both going directly to voicemail.”

  Cao shrugged. “I’m sorry, I have no explanation for that. All I know is that those are their numbers.”

  Yan looked about the trailer, picking up the charging phone before tossing it back on the desk. He stepped out of the trailer and indicated Cao should follow. “You’re under arrest.”

  Cao’s eyes bulged and he felt faint as he followed. Several of his students and other staff were mumbling with concern, and he decided it was in their best interest that he say nothing more that might provoke a response, even if only verbal, from someone on his team.

  “I’m sure there’s no need to arrest me. I’ll come with you voluntarily. It’s my duty to assist you in locating these two foreigners.”

  Yan’s facial muscles relaxed noticeably, and his demeanor changed, bowing slightly to his elder before holding out a hand toward the ladder. “You are correct, of course. Please come with us, and we’ll clear this matter up at our office.”

  Cao turned to the others and tapped his watch. “The day is over in ten minutes. Please finish out the day, and then return to your homes and await instructions from your government. If you hear nothing to the contrary, I expect you all here tomorrow morning on time, even if I’m not here.”

  Everyone bowed, but no one said anything, understanding precisely the motive behind his words.

  He headed for the ladder, and as he climbed each rung, leaving the confines of the dig site, he took one last look at not only his team, but the history that lay below, and the mystery of what happened here almost 2000 years ago that remained unsolved. And at that moment, he realized how genuinely unimportant he was, how little he had ever accomplished in his life, and how in 2000 years, no one would ever find anything that would suggest he had ever existed. He said a silent goodbye to what was to have been his life’s work, then was shown into the back of a police car, his reality as he knew it likely over if this international crisis escalated.

  For he had agreed to add the professors to his official team roster, so he was associated with their visas, and if the MSS was specifically searching for them, then he could end up accused of aiding them in whatever nefarious activity the government might accuse them of, genuine or not.

  He said a silent prayer as he closed his eyes, picturing his wife and daughter, horror-stricken at the thought of the lies that would be told about him over the coming days.

  25 |

  Approaching Hyatt Place Luoyang Luoyang, China

  Laura flipped her collar up and raised her shoulders as she lowered her head as much as she could. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and fell in behind two young women who were laughing as if the world weren’t falling apart around them. But they were Chinese, and likely had no clue what was going on. And they were young, so even if they had the option of knowing the truth, unless they received it from social media, they probably wouldn’t care about it or believe it. But their casual, comfortable display, made her less conspicuous.

  The hotel was just ahead now, and she scrutinized her surroundings as she continued her approach. There was a government vehicle across the street, its lights flashing, two men occupying the front seats. It could be routine, and two people certainly weren’t a worry considering the size of the hotel. She continued to the front entrance. The doorman bowed and opened the door for her, which she took as a good sign.

  She fished her keycard out of her clutch, never one to hand it in when leaving a hotel for the day, and stepped onto an elevator with half a dozen other people, mostly Westerners, all nervous, no one saying anything to anyone. She stepped off the elevator and walked as calmly as she could toward her room, as there were surveillance cameras everywhere—this was China, and privacy was never a concern, let alone an option.

  She entered the room, grabbed the satphone and its charger, then opened the safe and retrieved the cash they had locked up earlier, only having brought what they would need for the day. She stared at their luggage then made a quick decision. She grabbed her carry-on and dumped its contents on the bed, then quickly packed two changes of clothes for her and James, and two sets of the same for the students, who appeared to be similar sizes to them. Sirens wailed on the street below, but she didn’t bother looking, for if it were of concern, then the seconds wasted to confirm what might be, could seal her fate.

  She zipped up the carry-on, extended the handle, then left the room. She reached the elevator and pressed the button, then waited impatiently as another thought occurred to her. The hotel had their passports. When they had checked in, the hotel had been backed up, and had promised to return them within an hour, but they had left as soon as they had showered and changed. They might need them if they had any hope of escape.

  She chewed her cheek as she debated what to do. James having his might not necessarily be a good thing, but having hers could be, for it would prove she was a British citizen and not an American. Not having them could prove problematic, yet getting them could mean a risky delay.

  The gentle chime indicating the elevator had arrived, set her heart racing. The doors opened and she stepped inside. A Caucasian family stood there with their luggage at their feet, the kids sniffling, their eyes and cheeks red. Their father firmly held them against him as the mother’s lip trembled.

  They were terrified.

  The doors closed, and moments later, they opened to the lobby, revealing chaos. The front desk was jammed with tourists who clearly had no intention of heeding their embassy’s warning to stay inside their hotel, and were instead heading for the nearest airport to try and escape the country entirely.

  And she didn’t blame them.

  Though, if things did turn sour, there was no way gathering all
the foreigners in one place wouldn’t simply aid the Chinese in their cause.

  But their panic meant she had no hope of retrieving their passports.

  She spotted a staff member rushing in her direction. She reached out and blocked him. “Do you speak English?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She pressed enough bills into his palm to pay six months’ rent. “Get me the passports for room Seven-One-Two.”

  The man stared at the cash, his eyes bulging. “Yes, ma’am!” He rushed toward the desk and disappeared from sight as she checked her watch. It had been ten minutes.

  Too long.

  Lights suddenly flashed through the glass doors of the luxury hotel, sending her pulse racing as police cars pulled up outside.

  This is it.

  She involuntarily stepped backward, away from the police rushing the door. Somebody grabbed her by the shoulder and she flinched, about to cry out in shock, when she turned her head. It was the staff member. He slipped the passports into her hand.

  “Follow me.”

  She didn’t bother questioning why, for the only other option available to her was possible arrest. She followed him away from the doors and past the elevators. Moments later, they were through a staff door and into a corridor few guests likely ever saw. He was running and she was struggling to keep up, dragging her carry-on behind her, thankful this had all gone down while they were at a dig site, rather than a dinner out—the shoes she wore were more appropriate for fleeing the authorities than a pair of high heels. He pushed open a door at the end of the hallway and an alarm sounded, a light flashing. He urged her through. “Go left, away from the front.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  He said nothing as he closed the door. She found herself in an alleyway filled with refuse. The street where the police were was to her right, but she wasted no time confirming that. She headed left as instructed, sprinting to the end of the alleyway, and moments later was on another busy street. She headed right, blending in with the pedestrians as she struggled to catch her breath and keep control of her carry-on.

  The police presence seemed light on this street, all focus apparently on the one where she needed to be. She headed in the direction of the gas station, keeping her head down in an attempt to be as inconspicuous as possible. A vehicle screeched to a halt beside her and her heart leaped into her throat as one of its doors opened.

  “Professor Palmer!”

  Her head spun and she sighed in relief at the sight of Kyle with one foot out the rear door. She stepped toward the vehicle and handed him the carry-on bag, which he took and hauled inside with him as she climbed into the front seat. The doors slammed shut and James hammered on the gas, blending back in with the traffic.

  “Thank God we spotted you,” he said.

  She put on her seatbelt then leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes as she steadied her pounding chest. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “The police, or military, or somebody raided the hotel just as I was about to leave.”

  “How did you get away?”

  She held up their passports. “I bribed a staff member to get our passports. He helped me escape.”

  He took his and stuffed it into an inside pocket. “Good thinking. What do we do now? Did you get the satphone?”

  “I did.” She turned around and pointed at the carry-on. “It’s in the outer pouch. Grab it and the charger.”

  Kyle unzipped the compartment and fished out the satphone and the charger, handing them forward. Laura plugged the charger into the car’s USB port then attached it to the satphone—there was no way of knowing when they’d get a chance to charge it again.

  “Let’s call Tommy and see if he has any news,” suggested James.

  She was about to dial when she realized she had no idea what his number was. “Do you remember his number?”

  “No.” He cursed. “We’re going to have to turn on one of our cellphones. Use yours since you’re a Brit.”

  “Yeah, but my phone is still registered in Maryland.”

  “It’s the safest option.”

  “Mine’s registered in Australia,” offered Kyle.

  Laura smiled. “Do you know Thomas Granger?”

  “No.”

  “Then you wouldn’t have his number in your phone, would you?”

  Kyle’s shoulders slumped and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Oh yeah.”

  James suppressed a chuckle. Nobody was thinking clearly. “Turn it on, put it in airplane mode, get the number, turn it off.”

  Laura quickly did so, every second of nothing but the Apple logo driving her heart rate faster. It finally unlocked and she swiped up, the phone automatically unlocking. Another swipe, and she disabled all the communications features, then tapped to bring up the contacts list. She pulled up Tommy’s phone number and typed it into the satphone, then turned off her iPhone.

  “Did you get it?”

  She held up a finger as she rested against the seatback, drawing in long, slow breaths through her nose, and exhaling heavily through her mouth, her pulse slowly steadying. “Okay, I’ve officially never been that terrified just getting a number from a phone before.”

  James laughed and she noted that his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. “Call him.”

  She did and put it on speaker. It rang twice before being answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Tommy, it’s Laura and Jim. Any news?”

  “Oh, thank God it’s you. I take it you got the satphone?”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “Good. I highly recommend you toss those cellphones. According to the news, the Chinese have begun arresting American tourists.”

  “Are we at war?”

  “No, not yet, at least not that I know of. As far as I can tell, the two navies aren’t close enough yet to engage directly. The President is saying we won’t attack first, but we won’t hesitate to defend ourselves. The Chinese are demanding satisfaction for sinking one of their vessels, and don’t appear to be backing down. The news is saying they’ve begun rounding up foreign nationals to use as bargaining chips.”

  “Well, they almost got me, but I managed to get away with the help of a local, so I don’t know if they’ve got the support of their population at the moment. But that’s irrelevant. Have you heard from Dylan?”

  “No, and we won’t. I talked to Leroux, and he said that he’s unreachable.”

  “What about Delta?”

  “Same thing. They won’t be able to help because there’s no way they can go into China. Leroux gave me a phone number. He wants you to call him immediately.”

  Laura grabbed a pen from her purse and jotted down the number.

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” asked Mai, the concern in her voice evident. The young woman was like a daughter to them, and Laura’s heart broke, as any mother’s would, at the fear in her child’s voice.

  “No, just sit tight, and don’t worry about us. We’re going to call Leroux right now and he’ll tell us what to do. You guys stay safe. Just remember that we love you, and if anything happens, reach out to Greg and Sandra.” Mai crying had her own tears flowing, and she struggled to convey strength. “We’ll talk to you soon.”

  Their replies were muted, as it was clear the two young adults were certain they were saying their final goodbyes.

  And the sight of a column of military vehicles approaching had her certain they were right.

  26 |

  Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia

  CIA Analyst Supervisor Chris Leroux stood at the center of the technological wonder that was Operations Center 3 at CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia. He headed a team of a dozen highly trained analysts and technicians, and though they dealt with life and death situations on a routine basis, everyone was on edge today with the situation developing in the South China Sea. Even Randy Child, their tech wunderkind, was nervous, the young man, barely sporting pubes, usually spinning in his chair nonchalantly whenever he was waiting for something to be processed on his terminal. Instead, he sat still, a finger nervously tapping on his knee.