Alex Archer - Forbidden City

She took a deep breath and tried to relax, but she knew it wasn’t over. Not as long as she had the belt plaque and Huangfu wanted it.

F ROM THE VERY BEGINNING , Huangfu had hated Georgetown. The population consisted of a thousand citizens, more or less, and the community was tightly knit. Even though it was a tourist town, strangers stood out.

The way things had unfolded in Volcanoville, he knew he couldn’t return to the room he’d taken in the bed-and-breakfast. In fact, those premises had already been invaded by the sheriff’s office. But he’d been careful. Their crime scene investigators would find no fingerprints in the room, and the things he’d left behind would lead nowhere.

He’d ordered one of his men to dump the helicopter near Sacramento to lay down a false trail and lead the police to think they’d fled the area. The other four men remained with him in the hills overlooking Georgetown.

His men were, like him, well trained at hiding in plain sight. The countryside provided ample cover.

He hunkered down beside a tree and used digital binoculars capable of high magnification. He was dressed in black camouflage, complete with a Neoprene mask that left only his grease-paint covered face open.

The man next to Huangfu tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at the western road. Shifting the binoculars, Huangfu spotted Annja Creed’s rented SUV entering the town.

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