Don Winslow: The Trail to Buddha_s Mirror

“Neal Carey, listen for one time. I do not love you. That is the truth. I love Robert. That is the truth. I was never going to go with you. That is the truth. I made love with you to deceive you, to buy your silence. But now your silence is worthless.”

She pointed down the hill.

She’s right, he thought. Everything she says is true. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done because of her. Because I wanted her and couldn’t have her.

“Run,” he said. “If you run you can make it.”

“Do not make this sacrifice for me. I do not lo-”

“I know. You don’t love me. But neither do I.”

But I do love you, he thought.

She turned and ran.

Now think, he told himself. For the first time on this whole fucking job, think. Simms can pick you off from here, and that’s no good. You need to shorten the range so that your pistol is as good as his rifle.

He looked uphill to where Li Lan was scrambling up the slope. There was a slight curve in the path, and some rocks off to the uphill side.

If I can make it there, that might do.

He rolled onto the path and started on all fours. His ribs slammed at him, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t look up, either, but he could hear Li Lan running, as bits of rock and shale slid down behind her.

Go, go, go, he thought.

Now he could hear Simms on the path behind him. Also running. Shit. Have to make it to that curve. Have to make it there with a few seconds’ lead.

Neal stood up straight and burst up the hill. He screamed as his ribs exploded and screamed again as he reached the curve and threw himself behind the rocks. He could see a bit of the path below him and all the path in front of him. He saw Li Lan on all fours, and then he watched as she stood straight up, waving her arms and shouting, trying to warn the three men to get off the edge of the summit.

“She is waving!” Xao said. “But where is Carey?”

“He must be resting.”

“Can he see from there?”

“I am sure.”

I hope so, Xao thought. I hope so. Come on, Mr. Carey. Where are you?

Where are you, you little bastard? Simms wondered. The Chinese babe was flattened against the hill like a bug, but Carey had disappeared. Planning another little ambush, are you?

Simms saw the path curve about forty yards above him.

Okay, he thought.

He left the path, working himself down the slope on the seat of his pants. There was a nice rock down there to steady the rifle on, and it would give him a beautiful fire angle at the summit. They would be silhouetted, backlit by the setting sun.

Then he could deal with Carey at leisure. Leisure… what a nice concept. He sure could use a little leisure.

Simms slid down behind the rock.

What the hell is he doing? Neal wondered as he watched Simms’s maneuver. Then he saw Simms drop into a shooter’s crouch, wrap the rifle sling around his wrist, and lay the barrel against the rock. He watched as Simms put his eye to the scope and began to scan the summit,

Li Lan reached the top. She stopped again and waved her arms. They were about a hundred yards away, heading toward her, arms spread out in welcome-the largest possible targets they could be.

Neal saw it too. Pendleton was wrapped in a native black serape, and he looked like some sort of giant bat as he strode toward Li Lan. The Chinese man was older, shorter, but he also walked purposefully toward her as she ran toward them.

He looked down and saw the rifle barrel wave gently as Simms picked a target.

Now this, Simms thought, is what I call a target-rich environment. Now let me see… Well, first things first.

He tightened his grip and centered the cross hairs.

Neal knew he couldn’t hit Simms from that distance with the pistol in a thousand years, but he gave it a try. The pistol bucked in his hand as he pulled the trigger.

The shot didn’t even distract Simms. He chuckled to himself as he followed his target, waiting for the two of them to get closer together so he could make an easy adjustment for the second kill. Or should I try for a double kill with one shot?

No, that would be vulgar.

He practiced his lead once and waited for the ideal shot.

Neal put both feet to the rock and pushed. His ribs strained and screamed as he as he pushed, wedging his back against the slope. Then the shale began to give way underneath. The rock began to slip.

Time to stop fucking around, Simms said to himself. He began to put just the right amount of pressure on the trigger.

The boulder gave way and started to roll. Neal watched it bounce over the path and pick up speed as it tumbled toward Simms. Please, God… please, please, please.

He heard the shot go off a half-second before the boulder hit.

He looked up and saw Pendleton drop.

Like he’d been shot.

Then he heard Li Lan scream.

He sprang to his feet and ran toward her.

Simms was about to grease the babe when he felt a jolt through his hands as a big fucking rock hit the gun barrel and tore the rifle from him.

Son of a bitch, he thought. They just don’t want to make this easy. Well, he’d just have to do her with the knife. He wished she’d quit screaming, though.

Neal heard her wailing as he made it to the summit.

She stood with her back to him, Pendleton in her arms. There was a big hole in his back. The other two men stood as still as statues on the edge of the pavilion.

She was dragging Pendleton to the edge of the cliff, to the Buddha’s Mirror.

“No!” Neal screamed as he ran toward her. “Noooo!!!”

She turned toward Neal as she reached the edge.

The two Chinese men started to run toward her.

Neal was close enough to see her eyes, close enough to see her smile, close enough to reach her with one lunge as she turned, looked into the Buddha’s Mirror, cradled Pendleton in her arms, and jumped.

Neal sprawled on the edge. He peered into the mists below, into the Buddha’s Mirror, but he couldn’t see them. All he could see was the mist, and golden circles of light, and in one golden circle his own face. His own soul.

He closed his eyes and sobbed.

“We thank you for your assistance,” Xao said. He raised his teacup in the form of a toast.

“You are very welcome,” Simms answered.

They were sitting at a pavilion on the summit.

“I must confess,” Xao continued, “that when we started to lure the traitors here, we did not know we would have the assistance of the Central Intelligence Agency. Mr. Peng has been most thorough.”

Peng blushed. He was burning with rage, but could not let it show. Xao’s plot had been foiled, but Xao would come out of it as a hero. Without the bodies, Peng could prove nothing. It would be his word against Xao’s, and he knew he would come out the loser.

“The woman was obviously unstable,” Xao continued.

“Apparently,” agreed Simms.

“Perhaps she loved him.”

“Emotional involvements are dangerous in our type of endeavor.”

“Just so.”

Xao turned to Peng. “You have been very loyal, Xiao Peng, almost to the point to cause concern. For a while it seemed that you thought that I was a traitor, and yet you were willing to conspire with me.”

Xao’s eyes burned into him.

Peng said, “Comrade Secretary, it is not for me to question your instructions, but merely to carry them out.”

Xao’s smile had the warmth of a dagger.

“Even so, accept my gratitude.”

“Humbly, Comrade Secretary.”

Xao turned to Simms. “You will inform your superiors that the problem of Mr. Pendleton is resolved?”

“They will be most grateful.”

Jesus, thought Simms, can we cut the Oriental bullshit and get out of here?

“What about Carey?” Simms asked. “It would be awkward to bring him back to the States.”