Clive Cussler - The Kingdom

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Sam and Remi Fargo return for the thrilling third adventure in the acclaimed new series. In Spartan Gold and Lost Empire, Clive Cussler brought readers into the world of husband-and-wife team Sam and Remi Fargo, whose passion and instinct for treasure-hunting has led to extraordinary discoveries-and perilous journeys. Their next adventure, however, might be their most astonishing yet. The Fargos are used to hunting for treasure, not people. But then a Texas oil baron contacts them with a personal plea: an investigator friend of the Fargos' was on a mission to find the oil baron's missing father-and now the investigator is missing, too. Would Sam and Remi be willing to look for them both? Though something about the situation doesn't quite add up, the Fargos agree to go on the search. What they find will be beyond anything they could have imagined. On a journey that will take them to Tibet, Nepal, Bulgaria, India, and China, the Fargos will find themselves embroiled with black-market fossils, a centuries-old puzzle chest, the ancient Tibetan kingdom of Mustang, a balloon aircraft from a century before its time . . . and a skeleton that could turn the history of human evolution on its head. Packed with the endless imagination and breathtaking suspense that are his hallmarks, The Kingdom once again proves that Clive Cussler is "just about the best storyteller in the business" (New York Post).

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“Indeed you did. News reached me a few hours ago. Some trekkers found a guide vehicle destroyed in one of the chokes south of here. Two bodies washed ashore near Kagbeni. I feared the worst.” Before they could answer, Karna ushered them toward the pillows, where they sat down. “The tea is ready. Give me just a moment.”

A few minutes later he placed a silver tea service on the table, along with a plate piled high with scones and crustless cucumber sandwiches. Karna poured tea and then sat down across from them.

“Now. Do tell me your tale,” Mr. Karna prompted.

Sam recounted their journey, beginning with their arrival in Jomsom and ending with their arrival at Lo Monthang. He left out any mention of King’s involvement in the assassination attempt. Through it all, Karna asked no questions, and, aside from a few arches of his eyebrow, gave no reaction.

“Extraordinary,” he said at last. “And you have no idea of this impostor’s name?”

“No,” said Remi. “He was in a bit of a hurry.”

“I can imagine. Your escape is the stuff of Hollywood.”

“Par for the course, unfortunately,” Sam said.

Karna chuckled. “Before we go on, I should make the local brahmins-the council-aware of what happened.”

“Is that necessary?” Sam asked.

“Necessary, and of benefit to you. You are in Lo Monthang now, Mr. and Mrs. Fargo. We may be a part of Nepal, but we are quite autonomous. Have no fear, you will not be held responsible for what happened, and unless the council considers it absolutely necessary, the Nepalese government will not be involved. You are safe here.”

Sam and Remi considered what he had said, then gave their assent.

Karna picked up a brass bell from the floor beside his cushion and rang it once. Ten seconds later the boy who greeted them on the approach road appeared from the side hallway. He stopped before Karna and bowed sharply.

In what sounded like rapid-fire Lowa, Karna spoke to the boy for thirty seconds. The boy asked a single question, then bowed again, walked to the front door, and stepped out.

Karna said, “Fear not. All will be well.”

“Forgive us,” Remi said, “but the curiosity is killing us: your accent is-”

“Oxford through and through, yes. I am in fact British, though I haven’t been home for . . . fifteen years, I suppose. I have lived in Mustang for thirty-eight years this summer. Most of that time, in this very house.”

“How did you come to be here?” Sam asked.

“I came as a student, actually. Anthropology, mainly, with a few side interests. I spent three months here in 1973, then went home. I wasn’t there for two weeks before I realized Mustang had gotten under my skin, as they say, so I returned and never left. The local priests believe I am one of them-reincarnated, of course.” Mr. Karna smiled, shrugged. “Who can say? Without doubt, though, I have never felt more at home anywhere else.”

“Fascinating,” Sam replied. “What do you do?”

“I suppose I am an archivist of sorts. And an historian. My main focus is documenting Mustang’s history. Not the history you read on Wikipedia, though.” He saw Remi’s confused expression and said with a smile, “Yes, I know about Wikipedia. I have satellite Internet here. Quite extraordinary, given the remoteness of the place.”

“Quite,” Remi agreed.

“I am-and have been for nearly twelve years-writing a book that will, with any luck, serve as a comprehensive history of Mustang and Lo Monthang. A hidden history, if you will.”

“Which explains why Sushant thought you were the person we should see,” said Sam.

“Indeed. He told me you were particularly interested in the legend of the Theurang. The Golden Man.”

“Yes,” replied Remi.

“He did not, however, tell me why.” Karna was now serious, his eyes peering hard at Sam and Remi. Before they could answer, he went on: “Please understand. I mean no offense, but your reputation has preceded you. You are professional treasure hunters, are you not?”

“It’s not the term we prefer,” Sam replied, “but it’s technically accurate.”

Remi added, “We keep none of what we find for ourselves. Any financial compensation goes to our foundation.”

“Yes, I read that. Your reputation is in fact quite good. The trouble is, you see, I have had visitors before. People after the Theurang for what I fear were nefarious reasons.”

“Did these people happen to be a young man and woman?” Sam asked. “Caucasian twins with Asian features.”

Karna’s left eyebrow arched. “Spot-on. They were here a few months ago.”

Sam and Remi shared a glance. Silently, they agreed they could and should trust Karna. They were in as remote a location as they’d ever been, and the attempt on their lives the day before told them Charles King had taken the gloves off. Not only did they need Karna’s knowledge but they needed a trustworthy ally.

“Their names are Russell and Marjorie King. Their father is Charles King-”

“King Charlie,” Karna interrupted. “I read an article about him in the Wall Street Journal last year. Bit of a cowboy, I gather. A bumpkin, yes?”

“A very powerful bumpkin,” Remi replied.

“Why on earth does he want you dead?”

“Why, precisely, we’re not sure,” Sam replied, “but we’re convinced he’s after the Theurang.”

Sam went on to recount their affiliation with Charles King. He left nothing out. He told Karna what they knew, what they suspected, and what remained a mystery.

“Well, one mystery I can address immediately,” Karna said.

“These evil twins, the King children, clearly gave me a bogus name. But during their visit, they did mention the name Lewis ‘Bully’ King. When I told them what I’m about to tell you, they reacted with no apparent shock. Strange, given who they are.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That Lewis King is dead. He died in 1982.”

19

LO MONTHANG,

MUSTANG, NEPAL

Shocked, Sam and Remi didn’t speak for several moments. Finally Remi said, “How did he die?”

“Fell into a crevasse about ten miles from here. In fact, I helped recover his body. He is buried in the local cemetery.”

“And you told the King twins this?” Sam asked.

“Indeed. Their reaction was one of . . . disappointment, I suppose. Now, knowing who they are, it seems particularly coldhearted, doesn’t it?”

“In keeping with the family character,” Remi replied. “Did they tell you why they were looking for him?”

“They were very evasive, which is why I found an excuse to cut our visit short. All I could gather was, they were looking for King and had an interest in the Theurang. I didn’t much care for the cut of their jib. It’s nice to know my instincts were right. So, it seems clear that Charles King knew his father was dead when he contacted you.”

“And knew it when he hired Alton,” Sam said. “The report about the photo showing Lewis here was another fabrication.”

“All designed to get you involved in the hunt for the Golden Man,” Karna added. “Not much of a deep thinker, this King, is he? He expected you would come here to find your friend, then pick up the hunt for the Theurang without getting suspicious, then lead the twins straight to it.”

“So it seems,” Remi said. “The best-laid plans . . .”

“Of country cretins and loathsome offspring,” Karna finished. “The larger question is, why is the Theurang so important to King? You don’t suppose he’s some kind of closet Nazi, do you, picking up the banner of his father’s expedition?”

“We don’t think so,” said Sam. “We’ve started to wonder if it’s simply an obsession or a side business like his black market fossil endeavors. Either way, the Kings have kidnapped and murdered for the Theurang.”

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