Treasure of Khan

"Twelve miles to intercept, sir," reported a nearby sailor, one of several electronics experts seated at computer stations around the bay.

"Steady as she goes," Buns replied. A studious but witty line officer highly admired by the crew, Buns had enjoyed his current tour of duty in the gulf. Aside from missing his wife and two children, he found gulf duty to be an invigorating challenge, enlivened with occasional danger.

"We'll cross Iranian waters in three miles," warned a youthful tactical operations officer standing at his side. "They are clearly tracking the Iranian coast for safety."

"After Kharg Island, I don't think the Iranians are up for harboring these guys," Buns replied. "Pat, I think I'll watch the show from the bridge. You have the CIC."

"Aye, Captain. We'll be dialed in just in case."

Buns made his way out of the darkened command center and up to the bridge, which was bathed in bright sunlight reflecting off the gulf's waters. A dark-haired officer stood near the helm with a pair of binoculars to his eyes, observing a black vessel on the water ahead.

"Is that our target, commander?" the captain asked.

Commander Brad Knight, the Anzio's chief operations intelligence officer, nodded in reply.

"Yes, sir, that's the drill ship. Air recon has confirmed she's the Bayan Star, out of Kuala Lumpur. The same vessel that our satellites pegged at Ras Tanura and Kharg Island prior to the earthquakes."

Knight gazed down at the cruiser's forward deck, spotting a contingent of Marines in assault gear, prepping a pair of Zodiac boats.

"Boarding party looks to be in order, sir."

"Well, let's see if the Bayan Star will play ball."

Buns stepped to a seated radio communications officer and issued a command. The cruiser began hailing the drill ship, first in English, then in Arabic, ordering the vessel to stop and heave to for boarding and inspection. The drill ship ignored the calls in both languages.

"No change in speed," a radar operator reported.

"Can't believe those Hornets didn't get their attention," Knight said. A pair of F/A-I8s from the aircraft carrier Ronald Reagan had tracked the drill ship for the prior hour, buzzing it constantly.

"Guess we'll have to do things the old-fashioned way and fire a shot across their bow," Buns said. The cruiser had a pair of five-inch guns capable of such a shot, and much more.

The cruiser closed to within two miles of the drill ship when the radar operator barked, "She's slowing, sir."

Buns leaned over and watched the radar screen, seeing the drill ship's blip cease movement on its southwesterly course.

"Bring us alongside. Have the boarding party stand by."

The sleek gray cruiser angled to the northeast, pulling even with the drill ship with a half mile of water separating the two vessels. The Marines were quickly loaded into the Zodiacs and lowered over the side.

As they began motoring toward the drill ship, Knight suddenly alerted Buns. "Captain, I see two boats in the water off the enemy's stern. I think the crew is abandoning ship."

Buns picked up a pair of binoculars and gazed at the drill ship. Two lifeboats filled with crewmen in black fatigues were making their way from the ship. Buns swung his binoculars toward the dilapidated vessel just in time to spot several puffs of white smoke rise from the lower levels.

"They mean to scuttle her," he said. "Call back the boarding party."

As the Anzio's crew watched with surprise, the drill ship quickly began settling low in the water. In just a few minutes, the salty waters of the Persian Gulf began washing over the ship's bow. As the bow sunk lower, the stern rose higher into the air, until the flooded ship knifed to the bottom with a sudden whoosh.

Knight shook his head as he watched the trail of bubbles and foam dissipate over the ship's grave.

"Pentagon's not going to like that. They were eager for us to capture her intact. Had some big-time intel curiosity about the technology aboard."

"We still got her crew," Buns said, nodding toward the two lifeboats, which were headed willingly toward the cruiser. "And the Pentagon can still have the ship if they want her. She's just three hundred feet deep in Iranian waters," he added with a grin.

-65-

A crisp breeze rippled across the lower slopes of Burkhan Khaldun, snapping taut the multitude of blue-and-red Mongolian state flags fluttering high overhead. The largest of the flags, a mammoth ba

A rush of excited whispers swirled through the crowd, then all fell silent as the sound of marching boots drew near. A company of Mongolian Army soldiers appeared through the pines, marching up a slight incline toward the waiting assembly. They were the first in a long procession of military honor guards escorting the remains of Genghis Khan to his final resting place.

Genghis had been engaged in a battle siege near Yinchuan in northwest China when he'd fallen off his horse and died a few days later from his injuries. A secret funeral procession had brought his body back to Mongolia and the slopes of Burkhan Khaldun for burial in 1227, but history doesn't record the details of the cortege. Desiring to keep their enemies unaware of his death, as well as keep his burial spot secret for all eternity, his warrior comrades likely returned his casket in a nondescript, perhaps even covert, procession before burying him in an unmarked location. Nearly eight centuries later, there would be nothing covert about his reburial.

The Mongol warrior's body had lain in state in Ulaanbaatar for a week, drawing visits from over two million people, incredibly more than two-thirds the population of the entire country. Pilgrimages from all corners of the country were made by the thousands to lay eyes on his coffin. A three-day funeral procession to his grave site in the Khentii Mountains drew an equally impressive number of well-wishers, who lined the route holding flags and images of the ancient leader. Women and children waved and cried when the caisson rolled by, as if it was a favored relative who had just passed away. A national day of mourning, and future holiday of remembrance, marked the third leg of the procession. On this day, the caravan climbed up a makeshift road to a peaceful spot near the base of Burkhan Khaldun, where the warlord was said to have been born.

Pitt, Giordino, and Gu

In a splendor worthy of the greatest conqueror the world has ever known, Genghis Khan's body was carried on a mammoth wooden caisson painted bright yellow. A magnificent team of eight snow-white stallions pulled the funeral cart, seemingly dropping their hooves in perfect unison. Atop the caisson was the granite tomb Pitt had saved from the floodwaters, now covered in fresh lotus blossoms.

A troupe of aged lamas wearing bright red robes and arched yellow hats quietly took up position in front of the tomb. Down the hill, a pair of monks blew into their radongs, enormous telescopic horns that emitted a deep baritone hum heard all down the valley. As the low resonations wafted in the breeze, the lamas launched into a lengthy funeral prayer, incorporating drums, tambourines, and burning incense. At the completion of the ceremony, the lamas quietly filed off to the side as an old shaman took to the stage.