Clive Cussler - The Kingdom

King leaned forward and stabbed the speakerphone’s Disconnect button. Standing on the other side of the desk, her hands folded before her, stood Zhilan Hsu.

“You are hard on them, Charles,” she said quietly.

“And you coddle ’em!” King shot back.

“Until this latest incident with the Fargos, they’ve done well for you.”

King frowned, and gave an annoyed shake of his head. “I s’pose. Still, I want you to get out there, make sure this thing don’t go too far off the rails. Somethin’s got the Fargos’ backs up. Take the Gulfstream and get out there. Fix ’em. That Alton character too. He’s useless now.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Get the Fargos to play their part. Failin’ that . . . Nepal’s a big place. Plenty of room for people to disappear.”

HYATT REGENCY HOTEL,

KATHMANDU, NEPAL

In the early morning, the phone on Remi’s nightstand was ringing. “Sam, did you do this on purpose? A wake-up call. Do you know what time it is?”

Sam picked up the phone and said, “We’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

“Be where?” Remi demanded.

“As I promised. A Himalayan hot stone massage for you and a deep tissue massage for me.”

“Fargo,” said Remi with wide smile, “you’re a treasure.”

She slid out of bed and dashed to the bathroom as Sam answered a knock on the door. Room service delivered the breakfast he’d ordered the night before: Remi’s favorite, corned beef hash and poached eggs, and, for him, scrambled eggs with salmon.

He’d also ordered coffee and two glasses of pomegranate juice.

While they ate, they turned their attention to the mysterious chest that sat on the couch across from their table. Remi poured a second cup of coffee as Sam dialed up Selma.

“Do you think King had Alton kidnapped?” Selma asked.

“To get us here,” Remi offered, taking a sip of coffee.

Selma chimed in, “Get you there on the pretext of looking for Frank and then . . . what?”

“False flag,” Sam murmured, then explained: “It’s an espionage term. An agent is recruited by an enemy posing as an ally. The agent thinks his mission is one thing, but it’s actually something altogether different.”

“Oh, great,” Remi remarked.

“It’s a house of cards,” Sam agreed. “If that’s what King is up to, his ego wouldn’t let him entertain the idea of the plan derailing.”

“Then you don’t know if you’re actually looking for Lewis King or not. Or whether there was even a sighting of him.”

“Charlie doesn’t strike me as the sentimental type. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s not so much his father Charlie is chasing but perhaps what his father was chasing.”

“The chest you found?” Selma suggested.

“As I said, a guess,” replied Sam.

The night before, rather than returning to the hotel, Sam and Remi had walked south of the police station until they were out of view, then turned north and flagged a cab. Sam ordered the driver to meander around the city for ten minutes as he and Remi watched for signs of surveillance. They had little doubt the King twins intended to follow them, and they were giving them no time to set up.

Once certain they were not being followed, Sam ordered the driver to take them to a rental car agency on the southern outskirts of Kathmandu, where they hired a battered green Opel. An hour later they pulled into a motel parking lot a half mile from Chobar Gorge, where they left the car and walked the remaining distance.

Having memorized landmarks while being driven away by the police, they took less than an hour to find their exit tunnel. Their gear was still inside and apparently untouched.

“We’re sending it to you via FedEx,” Remi told Selma.

“If it is what King is after, better we get rid of it. Besides, Selma, you like puzzles; you’re going to love this one. Solve it, and we’ll buy you that fish for your tank . . . the, uh-”

“Aquarium, Mr. Fargo. A tank is something you put in a child’s bedroom. And the fish is a type of cichlid. Very rare. Very expensive. Its scientific name is-”

“In Latin, I’m sure,” Sam finished with a chuckle. “Open our Nepali puzzle box, and it’s yours.”

“You don’t need to bribe me, Mr. Fargo. This is part of my job.”

“Then call it an early birthday present,” Remi replied. She and Sam shared a smile: Selma did not enjoy celebrating birthdays, especially her own.

“By the way, I heard back from Rube,” Selma said, rapidly changing subjects. “He looked into Zhilan Hsu. He said she’s-and I quote-‘all but invisible.’ No driver’s license, no credit cards, no public records of any kind save one: her immigration record. According to it, she emigrated here on a work visa from Hong Kong in 1990 at the age of sixteen.”

“Let me guess,” Sam said. “Employed by King Oil.”

“Correct. But here’s the kicker. She was six months pregnant at the time. I’ve done the math. Her due date roughly coincides with the birth date of Russell and Marjorie.”

“It’s official,” Remi said. “I doubly don’t like Charlie King. He probably bought her.”

“A safe bet,” Sam agreed.

Selma asked, “What’s your next step?”

“Back to the university. We got a voice mail from Professor Kaalrami. She’s finished the translation of the Devanagari parchment-”

“Lowa,” Remi corrected. “She said it was written in Lowa.”

“Right. Lowa,” Sam replied. “With any luck, her colleague can shed some light on the tomb we found-or at least rule out a connection.”

“And what about Frank?”

“Assuming King’s behind his kidnapping, our only chance to get him back is leverage. If King thinks we have something he wants, we’ll be in a better position to bargain. Until then, we can only hope King is smart enough not to kill Frank.”

KATHMANDU UNIVERSITY

After making certain they were not being followed, Sam and Remi found a FedEx office and mailed the chest. It would take two days and six hundred dollars, the agent told them, but the package would be on a plane by early evening. A bargain, Sam and Remi decided, knowing the chest would be beyond Marjorie and Russell’s reach-provided it was, in fact, of interest to King. Anyway, they had neither the time nor the resources to devote to opening the chest. It was better off in the hands of Selma, Pete, and Wendy.

Sam and Remi reached the university campus shortly after one o’clock and found Professor Kaalrami in her office. After exchanging pleasantries, they settled around her conference table.

“This was challenging,” Professor Kaalrami began. “The translation took me nearly six hours.”

“We’re sorry it took so much of your time,” Remi replied.

“Nonsense. It was better than spending the evening watching television. I enjoyed the brain exercise. I have a written translation for you.” She slid a typewritten sheet of paper across the table to them. “I can confirm the essence of the document. It is a military decree ordering the evacuation of the ‘Theurang’ from the capital city of Lo Monthang, in the Kingdom of Mustang.”

“When?” asked Sam.

“The decree does not say,” said Professor Kaalrami. “The man we are going to meet after this-my colleague-may be better equipped to answer that. There may be some clue in the text that I missed.”

“This Theurang . . .” Remi prompted.

“Aside from it also being referred to as the ‘Golden Man,’ I’m afraid I found no explanation. But as I said, my colleague may know. I can tell you the reason the decree was issued: an invasion. An army was approaching Lo Monthang. On behalf of the Royal House, the leader of the Mustang Army-I gather the position is similar to that of a marshal or chief of staff-ordered that the Theurang be carried from the city by a special group of soldiers known as Sentinels. There is no description beyond that. Just their name.”