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Momentarily confused and shocked, she was a few seconds too slow in realizing the hidden threat. They had been attacked at the pyramids by three men. Only two were here. Where was the third?

To her right, Miyuki gasped. She was posted in the shadow of the door. Karen glanced her way. Miyuki was staring down the hall, past Karen’s shoulder. Karen swung around.

The third thief stepped into the hall from the stairwell, a rifle at his shoulder. Clearly their lookout.

The man fired, the blast deafening.

But Karen and Miyuki were no longer there. Both women had leaped through the door into the office. The wooden door frame burst into shards behind them.

Inside, one of the men lunged for the fallen pistol. Karen fired. The man’s hand blew back in a spray of blood. Moaning, he rolled away from the discarded weapon, his bloody fist clutched to his chest.

Karen darted farther into the room, giving her space to cover both men and the doorway.

The last man kept his hands raised, unmoving. It was not fear that kept him steady. Karen saw it in his eyes. His calmness was almost u

Karen’s pistol followed them. She did not shoot. Not in cold blood. If they were leaving, then let them. Hopefully, university security would capture them on the way out. But the reason for her restraint was not solely because the others were unarmed. The first man’s eyes did not leave hers. In his gaze, she continued to see a calmness that belied their situation.

Then the rifleman appeared in the doorway. Before he could swing on them, the first man knocked his companion’s gun barrel aside. He eyed Karen and Miyuki, and spoke rapidly in Japanese, his accent thick. Then the trio left, the un-injured two helping their wounded companion.

Karen did not lower her pistol, even after their footsteps faded away. “What did he say?” Karen asked Miyuki.

“H-He said that we do not know what we have discovered. It was never supposed to be unearthed.” Miyuki glanced at the hidden wall safe, then back at Karen. “It is a curse upon us all.”

David Spangler led his team across the wet deck, sticking to shadows. The storms had grown worse by nightfall. Thunder boomed like distant mortar fire, while spats of lightning turned night to day for flickering seconds. Nearby, waves smashed against the flanks of the carrier, washing as high as the deck itself.

After the evening meal, the NTSB investigators had retreated to their own bunks, many seasick, abandoning the wreckage until the storm abated. Additionally, David had declared the hangar deck to be unsafe for perso

With the night complete and the storm in full rage, David had chosen this moment to proceed with their plan. Sheltering for a moment in the lee of the giant superstructure, he spotted the two men guarding the entrance to the hangar ramp tu

Diving into the sweeps of rain, David hurried forward, shielding a thick case against his chest. Behind him the other three men, laden with their own satchels, kept pace, moving with confident skill across the pitching deck.

David slid into the tu

“Yes, sir,” his second-in-command reported. “The last of them left half an hour ago.”

David nodded, satisfied. He turned to the others. “You know your duties. Keep up your guard. Handel and Rolfe with me.”

The two men collected the equipment satchels. David kept his own case. He led them into the tu





It grew darker as they proceeded down. At the bottom there were no lights. Pausing, David slipped on his night vision goggles and switched on his UV lantern. The stacks of wreckage appeared out of the gloom, limned in dark purple and white. He waved the others to follow.

Striding briskly, he moved down the central corridor of the makeshift warehouse. No one spoke. David flashed his ultraviolet light along the numbered side aisles. At last he found number 22. Pausing, he cast his light around. There was no sign of anyone else here, but the boom of thunder and the rattle of rain muffled even their own footsteps. It set David’s teeth on edge. When he worked, he depended on the full use of all his senses.

He searched for a full minute more, then lowered the UV light. He stood beside one of the jet’s hulking General Electric engines. Except for impact damage, it was intact. He now knew where he was, and led the way to the side. His goal appeared out of the darkness: a crate marked with the designation 1-A on its side. It contained the first bit of wreckage raised to the surface.

He nodded to his men.

The pair do

David knelt and set down his own thick case, snapping the bindings loose.

“I’m ready, sir,” Gregor said beside him.

David nodded and opened his case. It held the mission’s true prize. Resting on the felt interior was a jade sculpture — the bust of a Chinese warrior.

Even through the night vision goggles, he recognized the fine work. He smiled with pride. This aspect of the plan was pure brilliance on his part. He had ordered the bust fabricated after the first day’s dive on the wreck. It was an exact duplicate of the bust Jack Kirkland had rescued from the seabed. The handsome object was a fragment of the Chinese Premier’s original gift, a jade replica of an ancient warrior seated on his horse. When David had first seen the fragment, he quickly modified his original strategy. It occurred to him now that he should thank Kirkland for this opportune turn of events.

He unscrewed the bust’s ear, revealing a hidden compartment in the jade. He passed the bit of sculpture to his electronics expert. Working deftly, Gregor slid the bomb in place and checked all the wires and transmitters.

Nearby, Rolfe extracted the original bust from the crate’s bubble packing and settled it within their own case.

David glanced at his watch. Only a minute had passed.

“I need some real light,” Gregor hissed, bent over the false bust. He pulled back his night vision goggles. “This Chink electronics is crap. I need to double-check the co

David nodded to Rolfe. The man knelt and shone a small flashlight toward the chunk of jade. David pushed aside his own night vision goggles.

Gregor tilted his head, fingers working over the explosive unit. The timers and detonators had been stolen last week from a Chinese black market dealer; perfect to lay a false trail.

Gregor sighed in relief and held the bust toward David. “All set.”

David accepted it and screwed the jade ear in place. “Let’s get going,” he said, standing up.

As he stepped toward the crate, a call echoed across the dark tent. “Who’s out there!”

David and the others froze. Rolfe flicked off his flashlight. The men returned to night vision. Deeper in the tent, a new light bloomed. It lay over by the electronics bay.