Добавить в цитаты Настройки чтения

Страница 58 из 113

Pitt and Giordino's respite from attack was short-lived, however. The other three horsemen quickly closed ranks with their wounded partner and resumed the aerial barrage. On the opposite side of the corral, the galloping hoofbeats of the other patrol echoed above the shrieking wind as they too raced to the scene. Within minutes, the air in the corral was filled with a flying maelstrom of razor-tipped arrows, bursting into the wooden crates and carts with deadly force. The archers were highly skilled at their lethal talent, their arrows following Pitt and Giordino's every movement like a magnet. If not for the gusting winds, the two men would have been killed quickly. But the swirling gusts hampered the horsemen's vision, as well as deflected the flight of their arrows. For their part, Pitt and Giordino kept the attackers from approaching too closely.

Though weaponless, the two men improvised a defense as best they could. They found the wagons to be full of tools and field implements, which they turned into makeshift projectiles. Giordino was particularly proficient at heaving double-pronged picks, managing to impale one guard in the thigh with a throw while knocking another from his horse with a swirling toss. The flying picks and shovels temporarily kept the riders at bay, but the horsemen knew that they had the men trapped.

Amid the battle, the dusty winds had served as an ally to Pitt and Giordino, providing intermittent clouds of cover while distorting the archers' fire. But as if the atmospheric gods decided to take a respite to inhale, the blowing winds suddenly fell for a moment. As the dust settled and the howling ceased, the sudden calm spelled doom for the two trapped men. Readily visible in the middle of the corral, the men now had arrows flying at them in a relentless fury. Standing to fight would mean instant death and the two men dropped their tools and dove for cover. They both rolled under a large wagon, finding minimal protection behind the large-spoked wheels. A half dozen arrows buried their razor tips into the sides of the wagon just inches above their heads. From the opposite side of the corral, gunfire now erupted, as the second patrol abandoned their bows and sought to end the siege with rifle fire.

"I can do without the Custer scene," Giordino muttered, a trickle of blood ru

"Not likely," Pitt replied, thinking of Roy. An arrow smashed into the wagon wheel beside him and he instinctively rolled away from the impact. A thin knobby protrusion struck him in the back, halting his turn. He twisted his head to find an object covered in a dirty canvas tarp sitting next to the wagon.

Another wave of arrows came flying in, forcing him to crouch to the ground alongside Giordino.

"The next cloud of dust, what do you say we rush one of the horsemen on the fringe?" Giordino asked.

"You grab the reins, I'll grab the rider, and we've got ourselves a mount. Only way I can see us getting out of here is to make a play for one of the horses."

"Risky," Pitt replied, "but likely our best chance." Rolling onto his side to survey the perimeter, he accidentally kicked off a section of the tarp covering the object by the wagon. Giordino noticed a sudden glint sparkle in Pitt's eyes as he peeked under the tarp.

"A change of plans?" he asked.

"No," Pitt replied. "We'll just try riding out of here on a horse of a different color."

-23-

The wall-mounted radio popped with the receipt of a signal, followed by the caller's voice.

The blowing wind created a background static that muffled the gravelly voice, though the proximity of the transmission made for a strong signal.

"We have them surrounded behind the sanctuary. They arrived with the Chinese delegation as Mongolian state security escorts, but are apparently imposters. My guards who were locked in the test chamber claim they are not Chinese but appear Russian."

"I see," Borjin replied, speaking into the handset in an irritated voice. "Government agents or, more likely, spies from a Russian oil company. See that they don't leave the compound alive, but hold the gunfire until the delegation has departed. I will expect a full report from security as to why they were not monitored at their arrival."





Borjin replaced the handset, then closed a cherrywood cabinet that concealed the two-way radio transmitter. Exiting the small anteroom, he walked down the hall and returned to the formal conference room. The Chinese minister stood at the window staring into the dust storm outside with his own sense of swirling obfuscation.

"Excuse the interruption," Borjin said, taking a seat with a grim smile. "A slight mishap has occurred with two of your state escorts. I'm afraid they won't be able to join you on your return trip. I will, of course, provide replacement escorts, if you desire."

Shinzhe nodded vaguely. "The gunshots we are hearing from the outside?" he asked.

"A training exercise by my security guards. No reason to be alarmed."

The minister stared blankly out the window, his mind clearly elsewhere. As if slowed by age, he sluggishly turned and sat down across from Borjin. "Your offer is akin to blackmail and your demands are preposterous," he said, his anger finally surfacing.

"My demands are no

Shinzhe stared at his host with contempt. He had disliked the arrogant and demanding magnate from the moment they met. Though perfunctorily gracious, he obviously had no respect at all for China or its leadership position in the world. It pained Shinzhe even to attempt to negotiate, but he knew the state leaders, and the president in particular, were expecting a deal for the oil. With reason, he feared his country's leadership would accept the abominable proposal out of desperation. If only there was another way.

"Minister Shinzhe, you must view it as a mutually beneficial transaction," Borjin continued, regaining his composure. "China gets the oil it needs to keep its economy ru

"Acceding sovereign territory is not an act taken lightly."

"There is nothing of significance that China must accede. We both know the region is little more than a rural dust bowl that is largely occupied by Mongol herders. My interest in reunifying the region is born of a cultural desire to restore the lands that once belonged to our nation."

"You may be correct that the region represents little of value. Still, it is most unusual for a private entity to be interfering in territorial exchanges."

"This is true. In fact, my government knows nothing of our accord. They will find it a quite pleasing political gift, one that will be most favored by the masses."

"And you will benefit handsomely, no doubt?"

"As broker, I have assigned a portion of the land rights to my company, but it represents only a small percentage of the total," he smiled devilishly. He handed a thick leather binder to Shinzhe. "I have already worked up the necessary agreements for state representatives of both countries to sign. It would please me to receive acknowledgment of your country's acceptance at the earliest opportunity."

"I will be reporting to the general secretary's council tomorrow afternoon. A decision will be forthcoming. Your fixed position on the terms may negate an agreement, I must warn."