“Where are we?”

Tuk shook his head. “I have no idea. I only know that we are no longer where we were when we saw the yeti.”

Annja felt the pillows. The fabric they were covered in was smooth and silky to the touch. She looked around the room and saw that the same type of material covered the walls. Light came from somewhere, but it was subdued and reflected inward from an outside source. The room seemed designed to transition people from wherever they’d been into this place. Waking up to a harsh lightbulb probably wasn’t the best way to do that, so the lighting was dim, but Annja could still see everything.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked.

“A few minutes, no more,” Tuk said. “I’m afraid that when you told me to stop breathing, I did exactly the opposite and took a huge breath, which no doubt hastened my own demise as it were.”

Annja grinned. “You can’t be faulted for that.”

Tuk leaned closer. “You know, that is the second time I have seen that sword of yours. How is it possible for that to somehow conceal itself on your body and not be noticeable?”

Annja laughed. “If I tried to explain it to you, you’d only have more questions. And they’d probably be questions I couldn’t answer. Not because I don’t want to. But because I don’t know the answers myself.”

Tuk leaned back. “I see. But you have it here still?”

Annja closed her eyes and saw the sword hovering in the otherwhere. “It’s here,” she said.

False Horizon
Rogue Angel™
Alex Archer

www.mirabooks.co.uk

The Legend

…THE ENGLIH COMMANDER TOOK JOAN’S SWORD AND RAISED IT HIGH.

The broadsword, plain and unadorned, gleamed in the firelight. He put the tip against the ground and his foot at the center of the blade. The broadsword shattered, fragments falling into the mud. The crowd surged forward, peasant and soldier, and snatched the shards from the trampled mud. The commander tossed the hilt deep into the crowd.

Smoke almost obscured Joan, but she continued praying till the end, untill finally the flames climbed her body and she sagged against the restraints.

Joan of Arc died that fateful day in France, but her legend and sword are reborn….

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

1

Nepal was one of the places in the world where Annja Creed felt that the line between fantasy and reality grew very thin. It’s relatively modern city, Katmandu, still nestled enclaves of the old world—when the lines between Buddhist, Taoist and Hindu religions intersected and the Mongols of the north fell down upon their southern neighbors. And the most imposing, the massive Himalayan mountain range shadowed the entire region with its sheer magnitude and incredible stillness and tranquility.

In Katmandu, motorbikes raced around while rickshaws still peppered the streets pulled by wiry little men intent on earning enough money to feed their families. Dust filled the air and gasoline fumes tainted every breath.

Masses of eyes watched every happening on the crowded streets. While Nepal was ostensibly a monarchy, it also shared a border with Tibet and China beyond that. As such, intelligence services from around the globe plied their cloak-and-dagger trade in the shadows and overhangs of the city. Paid informants kept track of their various targets and Annja knew it would be almost impossible to lose any surveillance she might pick up.

Not that she expected to be followed.

Her purpose for being in the capital city was one of pure adventure and not some underhanded government operation. And she felt excited about the prospect of finding the target of her quest.

She’d journeyed from her home in New York at the behest of Professor Mike Tingley, head of the Ancient Religions department at Charlesgate University. He’d emailed Annja and asked her if she might be interested in accompanying him on his trip. When Annja saw where he was headed, she immediately made plans for a personal leave from hosting her cable television show, Chasing History’s Monsters, and started planning in earnest.

The flight over from New York City to the first waypoint in Osaka, Japan, took twelve hours. Annja used the time to research as much about their quest as was possible. In the Osaka airport, she bought a bowl of soba noodle soup at one of the stands and watched as tourists buzzed past her. She never tired of visiting foreign countries and exploring their cultures.

The connecting flight put her in Katmandu the next day. As Annja deplaned, the sights and sounds of the region rushed back to greet her. With her visa properly stamped, she hailed a taxi.

“Thamel,” she requested.

The driver shook his head. “I can’t drive in Thamel. Streets too narrow. You need to take a rickshaw.”

Annja handed him a twenty-dollar bill. “Take me as far as you can and I’ll get along the rest of the way.”

The driver eyed the twenty and shook his head. “Dollar not good anymore. America economy bad.”

Annja frowned and pulled out another twenty. “How about this?”

The driver pocketed the money and nodded. “Now it’s good.” He shifted the taxi into Drive and bolted out of the parking space outside the airport terminal.

Annja opened her window and took in the smells of Katmandu. The combination of diesel fumes and sewage made her nose crinkle but only for a moment. She remembered the scent and knew it was only a matter of time before she grew used to it.

Nothing’s changed, she thought. The city still looks the same.

Twenty minutes after leaving the airport, the driver braked by a corner congested with people. “As far as I go. Thamel’s a few blocks farther down.”

Annja thanked him, then hopped out and dragged her bag with her. In all the years that she’d been traipsing across the globe, she’d mastered the science of packing light. She had a few key articles of clothing that could be combined into an endless array of outfits. That, plus her laptop computer and a credit card for quick purchases, helped her feel at ease with just a backpack.

She walked down the street as the sounds of the city bombarded her ears. Honking seemed to be its own form of communication. From the deep blasts of the truck horns trying to muscle their way through the city to the nasally beep-beeps of motorbikes threading through paths barely wide enough to accommodate them, the air felt thick with driver frustration.

Annja smiled as she reached the outskirts of Thamel and entered the quieter enclave. Traffic was significantly lighter. Rickshaws pulled past her and she waved two of them off. Small motorbikes zipped by, some of the drivers pausing to stare at her. Annja shook her head. She knew she was probably quite exotic-looking to the people of Nepal with her height, her long thick chestnut hair and amber-green eyes. She didn’t feel beautiful, especially not after the long flight, but people had commented on her looks enough that she accepted that many considered her to be very attractive, even if she wasn’t comfortable with it. She wanted a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. But first, she had to meet with Mike.

In his last email, he’d told Annja where to find him. He wanted to meet in the place they’d enjoyed so much the last time Annja had been here, a small American eatery called Blue Note.

It was the one place in Katmandu that Mike could find his favorite meal of all time—a cheeseburger and a cold beer.

Annja spotted the faded blue sign swinging back and forth in the dusty air and smiled. The owner refused to slap a fresh coat of paint on the building, preferring to keep an understated profile.

At the door Annja paused and then pushed her way inside. Instantly, she heard Ella Fitzgerald belting out an old song. She saw the gaggle of American faces turn toward her. She could pick out the mountaineers among them. They were eagerly poring over maps and studying the best routes that would take them in sight of Mount Everest.

But the Blue Note also attracted its fair share of surly characters, as well. She spotted two unshaven hulks of muscle eyeballing her from across the bar. Then she saw Mike’s hand waving her over and she grinned.

Mike Tingley looked more like a linebacker than a professor of obscure religions. He’d gone to college on a football scholarship and had refused to stop exercising as his years advanced. Almost forty-five, Mike could easily bench over three hundred pounds and his presence was more than enough to belay any hostility.

He rose as Annja came over to his table. “I see you made it safely.” He hugged her and then stepped back. “You look amazing.”

Annja grinned and punched him in the arm. “Cut it out. You know I just crawled off a plane after almost a full day in the air.”

Mike gestured for her to sit. “Grab a chair. I’m sure you’ve got questions.”

“Do you have the answers, though?” she asked.

He grinned. “First things first. You want a burger?”

Annja looked at Mike’s plate. Judging by the few remnants, he had already inhaled his favorite meal. “If I order one, do you promise to leave it alone?”

“I’ve already had my fill. You know I can’t resist this place.” He waved a waiter over and ordered for Annja. When the waiter returned a moment later with their beer, Mike raised his glass.

“Here’s to you, Annja. I appreciate you making the trip over. Really.”

Annja clinked glasses with him and then took a long sip. She put the glass down and smiled. “I’m happy to be here again. It’s been too long since we’ve worked together. Thanks for asking me to come along.”

Mike leaned forward. “So? What do you think of my plan?”

“At first I wasn’t sure what to think,” Annja said. “I mean what you’re proposing has been mulled over and even searched for for so long that most people consider it a pure fantasy. Or that it must have been destroyed many, many centuries ago.”

“And that’s what makes this so exciting,” Mike said. “Because I’m positive that everyone else has been searching in the entirely wrong part of this country for it. Everyone’s been wrong.”

“Except for you,” Annja said. “Imagine that.”

“Well,” Mike said. “I might be wrong, too. I guess we won’t know for sure until we actually get out there and find it.”

“What made you think you could even find the place, anyway?”

“It’s been a hobby of mine ever since I read the book that first described it in detail.”

“But Lost Horizon was a work of fiction. No one really believed that, did they?” Annja asked.

Mike nodded. “Plenty of people did. And plenty of them thought they were going to find it. As recently as a few years ago, there were still exploration teams making concerted efforts to locate it. But no one has ever succeeded.”

“Until now.”

Mike raised his glass. “You’re always the optimist, Annja. That’s what I love about you.”

“Plus, I’m the only friend of yours who’s crazy enough to actually fly across the globe to be a part of this.”

“There’s that, too,” Mike said with a laugh. “But if nothing else, at least we’ll have a fun time of it.”

Annja sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Shangri-La. It’s incredible to think that in this day and age a place supposedly so mystical and fantastic could even exist.”

“Well, what it is, is open to speculation. I never really bought in to the notion that it was some incredible utopia. It’s more the idea of the place that draws me in. That prospect of finding an untouched bit of geography that has been able to keep itself from becoming as molested as the rest of the planet—that’s a pretty potent lure for me.”

“And what happens if we do find it? What then?”

Mike shrugged. “I’m in academia. You know the golden rule.”

“Publish or die.”

“Exactly.”

“But won’t that mean exposing the place to the horrors of modern society?” Annja said.

Mike frowned. “I suppose it would. But I guess it depends on what we uncover when we find it.”

“If we find it,” Annja said.

“Hey, what happened to all that optimism?”

The waiter returned with Annja’s burger and she bit into the thick patty, finding it just as juicy as it looked. She chewed slowly, savoring the rush of saliva in her mouth.

Mike watched her intently. “Good, huh?”

Annja nodded and around mouthfuls asked, “How many did you eat?”

“Only two,” Mike said. “Doctor’s orders.”

Annja frowned and wiped her mouth. “What’s that mean?”

Mike shrugged. “Seems my diet is starting to catch up with me. My cholesterol is too high.”

“A lot of people suffer from high cholesterol. Can’t you go on statins or something? What are all those pharmaceutical ads I keep seeing during my dinnertime back in the States?”

Mike smiled. “I’m on the statins, yeah. But even with them, I’ve got to make some major changes to my diet or else I’m history.”

“Mike, you’re as strong as an ox,” Annja said.

“And nursing a cholesterol count of nearly three hundred,” Mike said. “Fitness isn’t all of the picture, apparently.”

Annja frowned. “Then I guess you’d better store up on the burgers while we’re here, huh?”

Mike took another sip of beer. “If you can help me find Shangri-La, then that will be better than any amount of these delicious, incredible burgers.”

Annja took another bite. “You’ve got all the help you need. You know that. Just let me enjoy my food and you can tell me all about what we’re going to be doing.”

Mike finished off his beer and leaned back. “My first order of business is ordering another burger.”

Annja stopped eating. “I thought you said you’d had your fill.”

“Well, yeah, but that was five minutes ago. I’m hungry again.”

Annja started to laugh, but then caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. The surly twosome who had eyeballed her when she’d entered the bar were maneuvering closer to where she sat.

Annja allowed her eyes to pass over them as she casually scanned the bar. Nothing about them sparked any memories. Not that that meant anything. She had been around the world enough and on too many adventures to know everyone she might have angered. The list of people who wanted her dead was probably a long one.

But she hadn’t told anyone the details of her trip. And she thought the idea that someone would know she was coming was a bit far-fetched. So if the two guys eyeing her weren’t there for her, then were they there for Mike?

“Say, Mike…”

“Yeah?”

“You aren’t in any trouble, by any chance, are you?”

“Me? No. Why?” he asked.

Annja put down the rest of her burger and wiped her hands. The two men were headed straight for their table. “Because we’re about to have guests.”

2

From deep within the recesses of the crumbling brick facade across the street, a small Nepali man known as Tuk watched the restaurant with little more than a bored expression that echoed the blandness he felt inside. He was being well paid to watch the strange and beautiful woman he’d followed from the airport, but he knew nothing as to the reason. But Tuk had learned a few important things in his life as an orphan outcast, one of which was simple—when a foreigner offers you money to watch and do little else, it is smart to accept the generous offer.

Tuk scented the air and caught a whiff of cigarette smoke on the wind, hidden just a little by the pervasive gas fumes. His eyes moved in their sockets but did little else. As far as Tuk knew, no one could see him, ensconced as he was in the depth of shadows amid the twilight.

His stature made him perfectly suited for the role of surveillance. He was thin, almost wiry, yet possessed strength in his frame. He moved quickly and could easily pass through crowds like a soft breeze and no one would ever be the wiser.

Tuk had come to Katmandu as a child. He had little memory of his life before that. All he knew was that he had no one. He assumed his family had either abandoned him or they’d been killed in an avalanche, perhaps.

Tuk had wandered down the river valleys and shallow hills of the mountain ranges until his feet carried him to the outskirts of Katmandu. From there, he managed to scrape out an existence, although it was only such by the barest of measure.

As the desperate so often do, he developed a keen eye for opportunities. In his youth he worked to become an expert guide on the city streets for foreigners who came to this land seeking to ascend to the heavens. As he grew older, Tuk’s ability to navigate unseen led him to another class of foreigner with little interest in the mountains themselves, aside from what lay across their snowy peaks.

By the time Tuk finally understood that he held a certain amount of value to the various intelligence services that employed him, he was already deep within the community as a tracker. At first, representatives from several organizations had offered him full-time appointments, but Tuk had shrugged them off. He thought his best chance of prospering lay not in the fold of one nation’s spies, but in the community as a whole. He would hire himself out to whoever could afford his fee, which grew with each passing year.

As the years advanced, however, Tuk found himself being replaced with the advent of sophisticated electronic tracking systems. Gradually, his former clients opted for their tiny microchips and circuit boards over the wiry man they’d relied on for so long.

And Tuk found his fortunes fading away. But not entirely. Every now and again, someone would still seek him out. But his espionage days were over. His new clients were less patient people. Drug runners, arms dealers and other like folk used Tuk because it was cheaper than buying the technology to do the work.

And Tuk, ever the adaptable sort, was forced to lower his own personal standards and accept the work.

He hated it for the most part. Just being in contact with the clients made him feel dirty and his soul unclean. Tuk would only tolerate their presence for so long—enough time to get the details of the job and the payment for his services at the completion.

He’d had to give up the respect he’d once enjoyed from the spies. In him, they’d seen a fellow craftsman. Tuk had worked hard to nurture his talent and they understood that. Despite the fact that he worked for no country but himself, they’d all treated him like one of their own. And Tuk had enjoyed that feeling of belonging.

The men he worked for now cared little about his talent unless it produced results. More so, they treated Tuk like an insignificant mosquito that they barely found tolerable. They all had insulting nicknames for him and tossed his payment at him whenever they were finished.

Tuk was seriously considering leaving Katmandu and moving out into the countryside. He had a little money left, stashed away in a variety of hiding places in the city so utterly obscure that he was certain no one knew where they were. He could use that money to set himself up in a small house. Perhaps he would become a farmer.

He imagined life, looking out at the vastness of the enormous mountains each day, would be calm and enjoyable. Even as he had toiled in the narrow streets of Katmandu, Tuk had always felt drawn to the countryside. He’d come from somewhere out there. And he knew deep in his heart that someday he would return.

The previous day had started like any other. He left the tiny apartment he rented and made his way to find breakfast. He’d only traveled ten yards from his home when his instincts sparked up and he knew that someone was watching him.

At first, he was worried that one of the drug runners was going to kill him. But he disregarded that notion. Ever since he had started dealing with criminals, he’d taken extreme caution in how he worked his way back home each night. He used routes that doubled back on themselves. Tuk was sure that none of them would be able to track him.

But after another few blocks, he thought that maybe someone from his earlier life was stalking him. The prospect of that puzzled and thrilled him at the same time. He was puzzled because, in all his years, he’d never done anything to betray the confidences of whomever he worked for. He’d never done anything to warrant someone wanting to kill him.

And in that confidence, Tuk felt his heart soar. Perhaps, just perhaps, they were coming back to him for work. Maybe their fancy gadgets couldn’t do what Tuk could do. Sure, he was older now, but he still had vitality flowing in his veins. He could still complete their assignments with ease.

At the food cart, Tuk ordered his meal and then turned, casually gazing up the street. He saw nothing suspicious.

He frowned and cursed himself silently for being such a hopeful fool. He was getting old, he thought. And his desire for his former life had made him think that a return was possible when it was not.

Those spies, he told himself, are long gone. And they’re not coming back.

“Excuse me.”

Tuk nearly leaped out of his own skin at the sound of the low voice. He turned and was immediately struck by the size of the man standing next to him. He loomed large over the entire food cart and Tuk was completely in the man’s shadow.

But while there was no doubt that the man was both imposing and ominous, there seemed no threat directed at Tuk. If anything, Tuk felt that the man might even respect him a little. It was a theory quickly turned to fact when the man spoke again.

“Are you Tuk?”

The inflection of voice told Tuk all he needed to know. The man knew him not from his dealing with thugs, but from his intelligence work. Tuk smiled. “Yes. I am he.”

“I would like to ask for your assistance in a small matter I have to deal with,” the man said. “And I will pay you very well for your services, say twice the rate you used to obtain from the British?”

Tuk smiled. “That would make me very happy indeed.”

The man nodded. “I was certain it would.” He gestured to the street. “Walk with me and I shall tell you of the matter.”

Tuk fell into step beside the stranger and they moved off down the street. Tuk found himself marveling at the manner in which the giant man moved. Not so much like a steamroller or some other juggernaut, but with the practiced, careful step of a dancer. The man’s grace belied his immense size and Tuk knew this was no ordinary spy.

“She will come from America. A young woman in her twenties. Dark hair that flows down past her shoulders. She is lithe. Quick. And in battle, she is a most formidable opponent.” The man showed him a picture of a beautiful woman.

“I won’t fight her,” Tuk said.

“I should hope you won’t,” the man replied. “But have little doubt that if she spots you, then she will make every effort to find out why you are following her. And she can be most persuasive.”

Tuk smiled. “She will not see me.”

“Indeed. And that is exactly the reason I have come to you, my friend. I know of your reputation. I know of your skill. This is not a matter to be entrusted to a faceless bit of technology, but rather to an expert such as yourself.”

“I will follow her from the moment she leaves the plane until such time as you wish me to stop,” Tuk said. “And never will she be the wiser.”

“Excellent. Excellent.” The man handed Tuk a small envelope. “Take half of the payment now for your trouble.”

“Trouble?”

The man chuckled. “You are used to never being seen and yet here you are walking down the street with me. And I tend to attract attention despite my best efforts. I am therefore ruining your usual cloak of invisibility. For that, I sincerely apologize.”

“You are not troubling me in the least,” Tuk said. He appreciated the man’s deferential attitude. “Had you not employed me, I might again find myself needing to find a job with a lower class of person. One I do not wish to seek out, but circumstances have dictated that I do just that in order to survive.”

The man nodded. “The realities of life do not tolerate the whims of our hearts, do they?”

“Not often.”

“Take this assignment and I will triple your payment. I know the pain of working with idiots. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone.”

“Your generosity is most appreciated.”

“As is your discretion,” the man said. “And your talent.”

“What would you have me do once I pick up the trail?”

“Nothing. You do absolutely nothing except follow her. For you to attempt otherwise would be suicidal.”

There was nothing boastful or arrogant about the manner in which the large man spoke. It was simply matter-of-fact. And Tuk had little reason to doubt the man’s words.

“As you wish.”

“She will most likely head to Thamel.”

“What makes you say that?”

“That is where all foreigners tend to go, isn’t it? And this woman is adept at blending in with the surrounding scenery.”

Tuk nodded. “I won’t let that fact enable any assumptions on my part.”

“I know this.”

They reached the end of the street and throngs of foot traffic swelled around them. The large man turned to Tuk and smiled. “Thank you for your help.”

“How will I know where to find you?”

“Take this.” The large man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small phone. Tuk recognized it as a disposable unit like thousands of others sold all over Katmandu. It was anonymous and therefore useful to the very drug runners Tuk despised.

“Press and hold the two and it will ring to my phone. Tell me where you are and I will be there. The phone is set to vibrate. If I call you and you do not answer, I will assume you are unable to talk at that moment for fear of giving your position away. However, I will expect a return call as soon as you are able.”

“Understood.”

“Then we are in business.”

Tuk frowned. “One last question, if I may?”

“Yes?”

“How did you find me?”

The man smiled. “You are a rarity in this part of the world, my friend. But not so in other places. In every city and town there are those who know it better than anyone else. I only needed to take my time and you revealed yourself when the universe judged the time right.”

Tuk smiled. “I’m glad to be of service.”

“As am I.”

“I know better than to ask your name,” Tuk said. “But what about the woman? What is she called?”

The man started to walk away, paused and looked back at Tuk. “Her name is Annja Creed.”

Tuk said the name to himself several times, trying it on for size. When he glanced back, the large man was gone.

Outside the Blue Note, Tuk wondered what exactly such a woman might be doing in order to attract the intense scrutiny of the man who now employed him. She seemed ordinary enough, albeit skilled at movement through crowds. Tuk had trailed her on a motorbike from the airport, and when she’d given up the taxi, he had parked and followed her on foot.

The phone buzzed in the pocket of his worn pants. Tuk reached in and pulled out the phone. “Yes?”

“You have her?”

“It is as you said. She is in Thamel. At a restaurant called the Blue Note.”

“Keep watching her.”

“You’re coming here?”

“Not yet. But I will soon.”

The line disconnected and Tuk was left to wonder some more about the woman called Annja Creed.

3

Inside the Blue Note, Annja was oblivious to the little Nepali man stationed outside with orders to report on her movements. She had other things to consider just then, like exactly how she was going to deal with the two men heading toward her table.

“Mike?”

But Mike only frowned. Annja glanced at him and then back at the hulking masses in front of her. They both stopped short of coming within range of a swift kick from Annja’s boots. That meant they had a situational awareness Annja recognized, marking them as seasoned professionals.

“Hi, Mike,” the one sporting a goatee said. “How ya been?”

Mike frowned. “I don’t know you.”

“Sure you do. You know our employer, Mr. Tsing. So if you know him, then you know us.”

Annja looked at Mike. “Who is Mr. Tsing?”

“A miserable bastard, apparently,” Mike said. He looked back at the huge men. “Why are you bothering me about this now? I told Tsing I needed a few more weeks to pay him back.”

“Pay him back?” Annja sighed. “What are you paying him back? What did you need money for?”

The goateed henchman smiled. “He wanted to buy a map. A fifty-thousand-dollar map.”

Annja’s eyes widened in alarm. “Fifty grand? What kind of map costs that much money?”

The goateed man pointed at her. “You see? That’s exactly what Mr. Tsing would like to ask our friend Mike here.”

“Since when does Tsing care what his money is used for as long as he gets repaid?” Mike asked.

“Since he found out you were blowing fifty large on a map,” the man said. “Now, you can come along with us quietly and without any trouble. Or we can beat you senseless and then take you to Mr. Tsing. Makes no difference to us.”

Annja smiled. “Suppose we don’t feel like seeing Mr. Tsing just now? What about you guys go back to him and say you couldn’t find Mike?”

“We already told him we had you two in sight. He’s very interested in seeing Mike and apparently he’s very interested in meeting you. Says he loves your show.”

“How did you know who I was?” Annja asked.

“We have ways of finding out who is on airline manifests. It comes in handy for Mr. Tsing to know when he has business associates coming to town. Or other people that he’s interested in meeting.”

“Great. A fan,” Annja mumbled. “That’s just what I need right now.” She looked at Mike. “When were you going to tell me about this?”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to,” Mike said. “Tsing told me I had all the time I needed to pay him back. This is as much a surprise to me as it is you.”

“Fifty grand? That must be some map.”

“It is.”

The goateed thug cleared his throat. “Are you coming with us or do we have to drag you out of here?”

Annja eyed him. She could easily draw her sword and cut both men down before they could blink. But she wasn’t sure that unsheathing her blade in a crowded restaurant was the best way of handling this. At least, not in view of everyone else in the joint. Maybe she would try her luck once they got outside and into some narrow alley. She imagined Mr. Tsing would infest some tiny haunt on the back side of Katmandu.

Mike nodded. “Fine, we’ll go with you to see what Tsing has to say. I like this place too much to cause trouble in here, anyway.”

“Smart,” the man said. “I’m sure he won’t keep you long. This is more of a social call than a collection call.”

“What a relief,” Mike said.

The two men led them out of the Blue Note. Annja looked around but saw little chance for action. Throngs of people swelled around them and the two henchmen bracketed Mike and Annja between them. The tide of the foot traffic carried them along.

Mike whispered in her ear. “Don’t worry, I can handle Tsing.”

“Can you?”

“Sure. He’s a businessman. The last thing he wants is to spill any blood. He’d much rather make money.”

“And the map?”

“I believe it shows the true route to finding Shangri-La.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“An archivist for James Hilton.”

Annja glanced at him. “You mean the same James Hilton who wrote Lost Horizon?”

“The same.”

“But most people who read that book believed that Hilton based it on Hunza Valley in Pakistan,” she said.

Mike nodded. “Yep, and others think it’s actually in the Kunlun mountain range. But neither of those suppositions is correct.”

“And this map shows the way?”

“It’s true that Hilton visited Pakistan and particularly the Hunza Valley only a few years before Lost Horizon was published. But as for him basing the book on the area, that’s rubbish. Hilton knew what he’d discovered and didn’t wish for it to be torn apart by the curious.”

Annja saw the henchmen were steering them down a street with less traffic. They were on the outskirts of Thamel now. Ahead of them, more modern buildings loomed. They passed cell phone shops and nice restaurants.

“So, Hilton…lied?” she asked.

“Yes,” Mike said. “Throughout the early twentieth century and into the 1930s, there were many British explorers over in this region. It was a natural place to go to, given the British Empire’s India connection. Hilton and others like him made trips up to this part of the world and were fascinated by what they saw and perceived as both mystical and wondrous places.”

“So, if neither the Hunza Valley nor the Kunlun Mountains are the location, then where would it be?” Annja asked.

“That’s what the map will tell us,” Mike said. “But we need to get away from Tsing and his goons if we have any hope of discovering it.”

“Seems like Tsing is going to have a problem with that.”

“Who cares?”

Annja glanced at Mike. “I’m not exactly thrilled at the idea of spending this entire trip being hunted by the likes of these two. And Tsing doesn’t sound like he’s the forgiving type.”

“He’s not.”

“So, suppose we see what he has to say before we decide to go about this in a different way?”

Mike smiled. “But if we decide to go that way?”

Annja winked. “Then it won’t be a problem.”

Mike nodded. “Good.”

The goateed man called a halt to their march. “Hold up here,” he said.

Annja paused and saw they were in front of a four-star hotel. From the circular roundabout, lush green plants shot skyward in front of the plate-glass windows. In front, several limousines pulled around.

Annja looked at their escort. “He lives in a hotel?”

“Top floor’s a penthouse,” the man responded. “But even still, we won’t tolerate any monkeying around here. Mr. Tsing owns the hotel and doesn’t want his guests disturbed.”

“Ever the gracious host,” Annja said.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” The man nudged her forward. “Walk into the lobby and head for the elevators. Remember we’re right behind you.”

Annja and Mike entered the hotel lobby. In any other part of the world, they might well have appeared underdressed given their immediate environment. But in Katmandu, they looked like any other well-heeled adventurous couple. And no one paid any attention.

Behind them, the henchmen came up close.

Annja and Mike stepped into the hotel elevators and waited as the men joined them. The goateed man stepped inside and slid a special key into the lock. Instantly, the doors slid shut, mirrored panels casting their reflections back. The huge men faced Annja and Mike.

“Won’t be long now. Mr. Tsing has just finished another business meeting so I don’t think you’ll have to wait.”

Annja felt the sudden sensation of her stomach dropping as the elevator shot skyward. Numbers flashed and she realized they were going much higher than she expected.

At last the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. The goateed man nodded. “Out.”

Annja and Mike stepped onto a plush red carpet that muffled their footsteps. The dim light made her squint to make out the massive pair of oak doors in front of her.

“Mr. Tsing has an aversion to bright lights,” the man said. “He prefers the level of illumination always be kept dim to save his eyesight.”

“You guys wear night vision in here?” Annja asked. “It’s ridiculous how little I can see.”

“It doesn’t seem to bother Mr. Tsing,” the goateed man said.

“Well, as long as there’s that,” Annja said. She looked at Mike. “Have you been here before?”

“Nope. My meetings with Tsing always took place at his restaurant.”

The goateed man grunted. “Mr. Tsing uses the hotel for his most important meetings.”

“Guess I didn’t rate,” Mike said.

“Apparently,” Annja muttered.

The big henchman knocked once on the door, his knuckles creating a massive boom that echoed for a moment before dying in the artificial twilight. He looked back at Annja and Mike. “Behave yourselves when we go in.”

Annja smiled. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He frowned and started to say something, but then stopped as the massive doors swung back on well-oiled hinges. Inside, the gloom was even deeper than in the hallway. Annja could smell incense wafting from inside.

A form appeared next to the door and she saw that it was a woman. “Enter.”

The henchman led them into a large entry hall. Inside, the windows were open to the night air. Far below, Annja caught glints of the lights of the city twinkling around them.

And then another form appeared before her. “Annja Creed.”

She squinted and saw a thin rail of a man with heavy folds surrounding his eyes. But they gleamed with an almost imperceptibly acute sense of sight despite the relative darkness.

She smiled. “You must be Mr. Tsing.”

He bowed low. “I am.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Tsing grabbed her hand and then Annja felt the leathery touch of his lips on the back of it. There was the briefest flicker of moisture and she realized that he’d licked her skin. Resisting the urge to recoil and kill the little cretin, Annja took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

Tsing straightened and then turned to Mike. “Mike. How very nice to see you again.”

“Rather soon, wouldn’t you say?” Mike replied.

Tsing shrugged. “Well, we have much to discuss. After all, our former arrangement seems hardly fair given the fact that I had no knowledge of what you intended to do with the money I provided.”

“What do you care what I do with it?”

Tsing glanced at Annja and then back at Mike. “I care very much what my money goes toward. Especially so if it appears I might make even more on a business proposition than what I first expected.”

Mike shook his head. “We have an arrangement already. There’s no need to discuss this any further.”

Tsing held up a crooked finger and waggled it in front of their faces. “That’s where you’re wrong, Michael. The underlying tenet of my business—one that you sought out of your own free will, I might mention—is that as the primary share-holder in your life, I can make and remake any arrangements as I see fit.”

Mike frowned. “And if I don’t like the new parameters of the deal?”

Tsing smiled. “I truly hope it won’t come to that.”

There came a high-pitched wailing scream from somewhere outside, and in the next instant Annja saw a flash as the bulk of a body tumbled past the windows. The scream died away in the night air. In her mind, Annja could imagine the body hitting the street far below and shuddered at the vision.

Tsing watched them both closely. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Another of my business partners saw fit to dispute my attempts at a more equitable financing arrangement.”

Annja frowned. “So you killed him.”

Tsing smiled. “I believe it will be ruled a suicide.” He clapped his hands. “But come in, let us sit down and see if we might avoid any such unpleasantries. I am very interested in hearing what you both have to say.”

Tsing turned and led them deeper into the suite. Annja and Mike had little choice but to follow.

4

Tuk watched the hotel from beneath the overhang of a small electronics boutique that specialized in global positioning systems and cell phones. He had trailed Annja and the men with her to this hotel with very little effort. When they’d emerged from the Blue Note, it had been an elementary matter to ease into the traffic slipstream and follow them to this destination.

But Tuk was not happy.

As the party had exited the Blue Note, his weathered face had creased and then flushed. He knew the men who escorted Annja Creed. The heavyset man with the goatee was known as Burton and the other man was called Kurtz. They were two of the worst enforcers working for Katmandu’s most illustrious crime syndicate run by Mr. Tsing.

Tuk had worked for Tsing in the past, when his personal circumstances had forced him to take jobs from such despicable people. Tsing’s treatment of Tuk bordered on abusive, and after he had withheld part of Tuk’s payment, the small man resolved never to work for him again, personal finances be damned.

Burton and Kurtz had especially insulted him by tossing him out of his last meeting with Tsing and threatening to kill him if he ever showed his face around there again.

Tuk thought about the miniature folding kukri he carried in his pocket and how he would dearly love to use the knife to end Tsing’s life and that of both Burton and Kurtz, if he was given half a chance to do so. He never used to carry a weapon, preferring instead to rely upon his natural stealth abilities to remove him from harm. When he worked for spies, there was never much danger to him. But working with criminals meant constant danger so Tuk had taken to carrying a smaller version of the curved blade favored by the Gurkhas, the famed Nepali warriors who often served in the British Army.

Why was Annja Creed meeting with Tsing? And just who was the other man with her that Tuk did not recognize? If he read the body language right, and he felt that he did, then Annja and the other man were not going with Burton and Kurtz willingly. Tuk also thought it doubtful that in the short span of time since Annja had left the airport that she had somehow managed to run afoul of Tsing.

That meant the other man must have been responsible.

But how?

Tuk’s brow furrowed as he thought about it. Tsing specialized in any manner of criminal enterprises, but drugs, prostitution and extortion were his favorites. Less lucrative was the loan sharking, but Tuk nodded to himself. Perhaps that was it. If the man was in debt to Tsing, then this would not end well.

Did that also mean that Annja Creed was in danger?

Tuk slid the small cell phone from his pocket and pressed the two on it. The phone dialed a number that did not display on the screen, which Tuk now shielded to keep it from revealing his presence. He put the phone to his ear and waited.

“Yes?”

“The woman—Annja Creed—is at the Fairbanks Hotel.”

“All right.”

“She was brought there under duress.”

“What do you mean?”

Tuk recounted what he had seen and waited for the man on the other end to comment.

“You’re certain of this?”

“I know Tsing,” Tuk said. “He is a worthless criminal who enjoys seeing people suffer.”

“You have history with him?”

“Yes.”

“I would have thought it foolish for anyone to cross you,” the man said.

Tuk inclined his head. “I appreciate your saying that, but it has happened ever since my lack of work with my former employers.”

“Understood.” The man paused. “And you say Tsing has the uppermost floor to himself?”

“It is my understanding that he lives there, yes.”

“You’ve been inside?”

“Never.”

“I need to know what is going on. Is it possible for you to get inside?”

Tuk frowned. This was going a bit further than he normally went. Surveillance was one thing. Actual infiltration was something else entirely. And it meant danger. Especially since Tsing, Burton and Kurtz all knew who he was. If they spotted him…

“I realize this is asking more than you are normally tasked with,” the man said. “But I will make sure you are properly compensated for your efforts. If you can get inside and make sure that Annja Creed is safe, I will pay you an additional fifty percent of your fee.”

Tuk’s heart raced. With that much money he could easily leave this life behind and retire out in the countryside. It was too good not to take the chance. And if he happened to get a shot at Burton or Kurtz, perhaps he could exact a small measure of revenge on them.

As if reading his mind, however, the man continued to speak. “Make sure no one sees you. It is absolutely vital that Annja Creed not know you are watching her. She is incredibly intelligent. Any hint of your involvement will inevitably cause her to start reasoning out my existence in this matter. And at this moment, I cannot afford for her to know I am here. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly.”

At that moment, Tuk heard a sudden scream and then a body crashed down across the street into a stand of trees. There was a sickening sound of impact and then nothing more. A few spectators started forward and then Tuk heard someone yell for an ambulance.

“What was that?” the voice on the phone said.

Tuk frowned. “If I know the man, and I do, it would appear that Tsing just had someone thrown off the roof of the hotel.”

“A woman?”

Tuk shook his head. “No. It was a man.”

“The same man who accompanied Annja Creed into the hotel.”

Tuk bit his lip. “I don’t know. It could have been, I suppose, but in the darkness I cannot tell.”

“She could be in danger,” the man said. “It’s vital you determine whether she is or not. If you think her life is in jeopardy, you must call me back as soon as possible.”

“I understand.”

The line disconnected and Tuk slid across the street. Already in the distance, he could hear the approaching sirens.

As he came abreast of the circular drive leading up to the hotel entrance, he paused and then moved to where the body lay. In the midst of the curious onlookers, he drew no attention to himself.

Crumpled in a bloody mangled heap was the body of the man who had just fallen. Tuk looked him over and saw that the pants were not the same color as those worn by the man who had accompanied Annja Creed.

That was good news.

He turned back to the lobby. A steady stream of onlookers was rushing out to see what had caused so much commotion. Entering the lobby now would make him stand out. He waited a few minutes until he saw a bellhop dragging a luggage cart behind him.

That was his chance.

Tuk sidled up next to the cart and walked smoothly into the lobby as if he belonged there. He had often found that confidence helped with his virtual invisibility. The cart also helped hide him behind the garment bags.

Tsing occupied the penthouse and gaining access to that area required a special key in the elevator. Tuk had no such key. That meant he would be forced to take the stairs.

He entered the elevator and pressed the topmost-floor button, holding it down to cause the elevator to run express to his destination. He regarded himself in the mirrored doors and smiled. All that money! It would be his if he could just live long enough to see this assignment finished.

As the numbers flashed by, Tuk thought about the relative peace he would soon enjoy. Long walks would be the greatest exertion he would face, but otherwise, he would leave behind all the congestion and urban decay. And he would be immensely grateful for it.

At last, the top floor came up and the elevator dinged softly before the doors opened. Tuk looked out to either side, but saw no one else in the hallway. He stepped out and let the doors close behind him.

Down the hall he saw the exit sign for the stairwell and headed for it. He hoped that it would also go up to the penthouse and roof. Surely Tsing’s men had used it to throw their unlucky prisoner over the top. Tuk would use it to gain access to the penthouse floor.

He pushed open the door carefully, and listened. As he had hoped, the stairs ran up as well as down. He stepped into the cool stairwell and quietly strode up the steps.

Two flights farther up, he saw an unmarked door and stopped. This was the penthouse level.

A small amount of space showed under the door and Tuk got down on his knees and bent his face until he could see under the crack. He paused and let his eyesight adjust to the darkness on the other side.

As far as he could tell, there was no one in the penthouse hallway.

Tuk raised himself and turned the doorknob slowly.

The door opened and Tuk slid through. He could smell the incense that Tsing always insisted be kept burning. Tuk’s nostrils flared in disgust. He hated everything about Tsing, and his preference for incense and anything vaguely mystical was in direct contrast to his barbaric ways.

But one thing that Tsing insisted on helped Tuk and that was the low light. He faded into the shadows near a potted giant fern next to the massive oak doors and sidled up as close as he dared to the main entryway. This would make for a decent observation post.

How long would he need to stay, though? The man on the phone had told him to make sure Annja Creed was safe. But how could he do that if he was out here? Tuk listened at the door in vain. The heavy wood barred any sound from passing through it. And unlike the stairwell door, there was no such space at the bottom of the entry doors to the penthouse.

Tuk realized with a start that he would have to enter the penthouse itself.

He examined the door in front of him. There would be people inside. At least five, he reasoned. Tsing, Burton, Kurtz, Annja Creed and the other man. There might even be more.

Tuk took a breath and examined the lock. He could force his way in, he supposed, but that would simply alert everyone to his presence. And the man on the phone had been most insistent that he remain utterly invisible to Annja Creed.

Tuk wasn’t sure how the woman would be able to piece together Tuk’s presence with the man on the phone, but he knew enough not to question such things. If the man on the phone demanded that Tuk remain invisible, then that was exactly what Tuk would have to do.

But how?

He heard a vague sound and realized almost too late that someone was approaching the door. He slid back behind the large fronds and then heard the telltale click of a lock being disengaged.

The door swung open.

Tuk held his breath.

A solitary figure swept out toward the elevator bank. A woman dressed in a long mandarin-style dress with a slit running up its side revealed a brief flash of skin as she passed the giant fern.

The elevator doors slid open and she stepped inside. In the light of the elevator, Tuk could see the sharp lines of her Han ancestry. She had the look of lethal beauty about her.

The doors closed and Tuk stepped out from behind the fern just as he heard the doors to the penthouse swing shut. A soft gasp of air told him they must have had a delay to their closing to keep them from banging. Hydraulics? It didn’t matter. What did matter was that the pause in their closing gave Tuk the opportunity he needed.

He stepped into the penthouse.

Instantly, he moved to the hall table and sank down to his knees. It was essential he give himself enough time to take in all the ambient sounds of his new environment. If he moved too soon, he would risk being surprised by someone he hadn’t noticed.

But if he took too long, the woman might return at any moment and spot him.

Tuk’s heart thundered in his chest.

His ears perked up. Conversation. It came from a number of voices farther on in the penthouse. Tuk strained all his senses.

With a quick gulp of air, Tuk moved deeper into the penthouse.

5

Tsing ushered Annja and Mike into a grand living room. Annja could make out a large wraparound leather sofa that faced windows looking out over the city of Katmandu. The pervasive scent of incense hung heavy over the entire penthouse and Annja quickly realized that the sickly sweet smell was too cloying for her.

“Please make yourselves comfortable,” Tsing said. He reclined on the farthest portion of the couch and pulled his feet up under him. “I really don’t want this to be an adversarial relationship. Everyone always makes out so much better when things are nice and civilized, don’t you think?”

Annja raised her eyebrows. “Since when is tossing someone off a roof nice and civilized?”

“It’s not,” Tsing said. “And it’s a reminder that as cordial as I’m being right now, that mood can quickly turn. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Noted,” Annja said. “Now what is this all about? Even if Mike did borrow money from you, he certainly hasn’t reneged on that deal, has he?”

“No,” Tsing replied. “He has not. And, in fact, I fully expect him to repay me as he promised. But that’s not really the issue.”

Mike said nothing so Tsing continued. “What this is about is what he used my money to purchase. And I know full well what it was.”

“What?” Annja asked.

“A map that shows the way to Shangri-La.”

Mike frowned. “How did you find out?”

Tsing smiled. “You might say that I’ve had an almost obsessive interest in locating it for the majority of my life.”

“Really?” Mike said.

“And I know what the rumors are and who has what for sale. As I said, my obsession with the place has led me to have quite the network of contacts.”

Annja shook her head. “If that’s the case, then why didn’t you just buy the map yourself before Mike came to you?”

Tsing shrugged. “Sometimes people can be particular about who they happen to deal with. And I’m afraid that my reputation tends to precede me. I, of course, made overtures to purchase the map earlier. But the seller refused, saying that he would not do business with me.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t end up taking a dive off the roof,” Annja said.

Tsing smiled. “Violence is always a means to an end. But there are often better alternatives. If he would not sell to me, then it was merely a matter of arranging for someone else to buy it. In this case, I made sure that your friend Mike here found out about it.”

Mike frowned. “You baited me?”

“As much as my reputation precedes me, so, too, does yours. You are one of the few professors who have not gone along with the more outlandish theories of where Shangri-La truly is. I have known of you for some time now. I’ve bided my time. Waited. And when you learned about the map, I knew you would come here and seek to buy it.”

“But how did you know I’d come to you?”

Tsing shrugged. “I know everything about your financial situation. There’s little that cannot be accomplished with a few keystrokes these days. Even here in our rather remote portion of the world, we can still reach out and discover all we need to know. The map was too expensive for you. Yet after you laid eyes on it, I knew you would need financing for it. But you wouldn’t seek help from conventional means. After all, what if it turned out to be a ruse? You would become the laughingstock of your peers. No, you did exactly what I expected you to do. You came to me.”

“And you gave him the money,” Annja said.

“Absolutely.”

“Knowing full well that he would buy the map with it.”

“Yes.”

“And then you would have what you needed.”

Tsing shook his head. “Well, not quite. You see, I am bound by some rather perturbing aspects of my condition. I suffer from a skin ailment that prohibits me from going out into bright light. I dare say that I would make for a poor explorer. As such, the map is not as useful to me as it would be to someone else.”

Mike sighed. “You used me and now you want me to do your dirty work.”

“I want you to use the map to find the fabled location and then report back to me here,” Tsing said.

“What do you hope to gain from that?”

Tsing smiled. Annja noticed the utter whiteness of his polished teeth, even in the dim light. “I am part optimist and part fool believer. If the legends that surround Shangri-La are to be believed, then the place is a utopia of mystical qualities. I may, in fact, travel there by night and eventually find a cure for my condition.”

Annja laughed. “I’ve known people who thought that they could find magical places before. And each time they’ve been sorely disappointed.”

Tsing turned slightly to better face Annja. “And what brings you over here, Annja Creed? Is it just the promise of adventure with an old friend? Or is it something else?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean nothing more than I asked.” Tsing smiled broadly now. “I have long enjoyed watching you on that delightful show. You have so much more…presence than that other rather pitiable woman.”

“Thanks. I like keeping my clothes on, if that’s what you mean.”

“But your reputation also precedes you, doesn’t it?”

“I doubt it.”

“I know, for example, that you are an inherently dangerous woman.”

“Says who?”

“Says any number of witnesses to your rather adept fighting prowess. If rumors are to be believed, and I must admit I’m a bit of a sucker for such tales, then you have quite a formidable manner about you.”

Annja frowned. What else did Tsing know about her? She wasn’t comfortable with the direction the talk was heading. The last thing she needed was Tsing asking about her sword. Had he heard rumors about that, as well?

“This is quite a nice place you’ve got,” she said. “How is it you came to afford it?”

Tsing waved his hand. “A trifling matter not worth much discussion. I simply happened to make a great deal of money and invested in the right places. That’s all.”

Annja raised an eyebrow. “And the government here? How is it you escape their attention?”

“As I mentioned before, violence is only one method to achieving a goal. It is useful at times, yes, but overall it’s a deplorable thing to have to resort to. Often, better outcomes can be had if a little bit of leverage is applied.”

Annja grinned. “And your proximity to Tibet probably doesn’t hurt, either, huh?”

Tsing’s eyes narrowed. “Are you driving at something?”

“Just a theory,” Annja said.

“Care to share it?”

Annja smiled. “Not a chance.” She nodded at Mike. “So, you want Mike and me to find this place using the map he bought.”

“The map I bought,” Tsing said. “The money used was mine. I am the map’s rightful owner. You may consider it a loan right now, but it belongs to me.”

“As you say,” Annja said. “So we find this place and then what? We come back and tell you about it and that’s it?”

“Yes.”

“And Mike’s debt of the fifty grand?”

“Forgiven.”

“You’re serious?”

Tsing nodded. “Absolutely. The map is mine and I paid for it. I want only what I cannot achieve on my own. You must locate the exact position of the fabled land and then come back to me. What I do from that point on is no longer any concern of yours. Any attempt to meddle with my affairs after that will be dealt with firmly, if you catch my meaning.”

Mike grunted. “Perfectly.”

“Excellent.” Tsing clapped his hands. “And just to make sure there are no hard feelings about all of this, I will even loan you the use of one of my smaller planes. It will, I have no doubt, be of tremendous help to you in your search.”

“I don’t suppose it would do us any good to refuse your kind offer?” Annja asked.

Tsing smiled. “That would be tremendously disrespectful of you to do so. And really, I must insist that you use it. At least I know that you will be in good hands.”

Mike glanced at Annja. She shrugged. “Seems as though we don’t have any choice in the matter.”

“You do have a choice,” Tsing said, “but I’m afraid the other option isn’t nearly as enticing as the one I’ve put before you now.”

“What about Mike and his find? Does he get to tell the world that he found it?”

“And why would he want to do that?” Tsing asked. “Solely for the purpose of self-gratification? I daresay it would be much better for such a place to remain a fabled legend rather than to be overrun with mobs of tourists who would no doubt ruin the magnificence of the place.”

“You’re betting that it really is everything that the legends claim it to be,” Mike said. “We might find it nothing more than a dried-up lake bed. It could have been demolished in an earthquake. There are any number of possibilities.”

“And I’m counting on you to discover exactly what happened,” Tsing said. “All I want is for you to report back to me as to what you find. If you do that and then leave it to me, then we will have concluded our business. Which I’m sure will make you a much happier man than you seem to be at the present time.”

“The sooner we get started, the better,” Mike said.

Tsing nodded. “Shall we have a drink to celebrate our new arrangement? I have the most delicious peach wine.”

Annja held up her hand. “I had a beer earlier. Probably not the best idea to mix them.”

Tsing frowned. “Mike?”

“I guess I’d better. I wouldn’t want to be rude and refuse your kind offer.”

Annja winced. Mike’s tone was both condescending and rude. She saw both henchmen tense briefly before Tsing waved them back down.

“Bring the wine.” He regarded Mike and then spoke simply. “I suppose you cannot be blamed for feeling a sense of betrayal, although you were a bit naive to think that it would be a simple matter dealing with me.”

“I was stupid,” Mike said. “I won’t make the same mistake ever again. Trust me on that.”

“I do. You don’t strike me as someone who suffers failure easily. I would be remiss if I didn’t warn you that trying to double-cross me would be foolish.”

“I gave you my word and I’ll stick to it,” Mike said.

The goateed man brought in a bottle of wine and three glasses. Tsing poured for them all, despite Annja’s earlier refusal. She knew she was expected to drink the wine, as well.

Tsing handed her a glass and then one to Mike. He raised his in a toast and smiled at them. “Here’s to a successful adventure and an outcome we can all live with.”

Mike frowned but raised his glass. Annja did the same. She put the glass to her lips and smelled the sweet wine. It didn’t blend well with the cloying incense in the room. But she took a tentative sip.

Tsing watched her closely. “Do you like it?”

“It’s…different.”

“It’s more of a dessert wine, I know, but I love it so. I can’t imagine relegating it to such a minor role. I prefer it to stand on its own.”

Mike finished his glass and set it down. “Pretty good,” he said.

Tsing refilled his glass. “Have another.”

Annja let more of the wine slide down her throat. It seemed marginally thicker than other wines she’d had in the past. She felt a warm glow come over her and despite herself, she realized she liked the flavor.

Tsing sipped his glass thoughtfully. “This particular vintage comes from a winery down in the southern part of the country. I happen to own it, of course.”

“That must make for a nice discount on your personal supply,” Annja said.

Tsing laughed. “Indeed it does.”

Annja finished her wine. Tsing seemed almost too eager to refill her glass. Annja glanced over at Mike.

Mike had passed out.

She looked back at Tsing. He lifted his glass to her. “I must compliment you on what I perceive to be a rather incredible constitution. Considering your friend is already unconscious, I hardly expected you to last a full glass.”

Annja’s vision swam. “Why?”

Tsing waved her concerns away. “Do not worry. I’m merely taking steps to ensure that you will do as you’ve promised. You won’t be harmed. And tomorrow, you’ll be on your way to finding the mystical kingdom of Shangri-La. For now, sleep well.”

6

Tuk could hear Tsing’s voice issue his commands. “Let them sleep and then deliver them to the airfield. Get them into the plane. When they wake up, they’ll be fine.”

Tuk shrank away from the conversation. He had to get out of the penthouse before he was discovered. He slipped back toward the front door. Already Burton and Kurtz were moving around too much for Tuk’s comfort. He’d done what he’d been asked to do and now it was time to get out of there and report back to the mysterious man who had hired him.

As he backed away, his instincts suddenly screamed at him and Tuk had barely enough time to shrink into a shadowy recess before the main door opened. The woman in the mandarin gown came gliding back into the penthouse.

She froze.

Her eyes swept around the darkened penthouse like lasers. Tuk averted his eyes from her. From experience he knew that even glancing at someone could often trigger that primal awareness of being watched.

But Tuk felt genuine fear. Something about the woman unnerved him. She was someone other than the house servant she appeared to be. He could sense power in her.

She moved forward, closer to where Tuk squatted, hidden by the darkness. His heart thundered inside his chest and he willed it to slow, fearing she might even hear it. What was it about her that filled him with fear?

She paused again and he heard her sniff the air. How could she smell anything over the heavy mist of incense? Tuk marveled at her sense. She was completely attuned to her environment and knew something was out of order.

She couldn’t tell just then what it was.

But her senses served her well. And now she moved even closer to where Tuk was hiding. Her eyes seemed to pierce the darkness in front of her. Tuk imagined that she had some sort of robotic night vision optical sensors or something equally outlandish.

The line of cold sweat that broke out along his spine almost made him start to move. He didn’t think he’d ever experienced this kind of fear before, and in all of his years working with the intelligence community he couldn’t recall ever feeling anything like it.

She knew he was there.

Tuk felt certain of it. He heard something in the darkness and realized that she had clicked her terribly long fingernails together. They looked like claws in the twilight. Tuk had little doubt they could effectively shred anyone she wanted. He realized that she reminded him of a feral cat that knows it has its prey cornered.

Just then Burton came around the corner and headed straight at her. She blinked and, in that instant, Tuk knew he was safe. Her concentration broken, she seemed to suddenly mask herself again in the guise of a servant.

Burton regarded her. “Mr. Tsing wants you to clean up the wineglasses. Make sure you use hot water on them.”

She bowed low, took one final look at Tuk’s hiding place and then slipped away. Tuk watched her turn a corner and vanish.

Burton wandered into another room.

This was his chance.

Tuk eased over to the main door and cracked it open, passing out of it as quickly and noiselessly as he could manage. He heard the soft hiss as the door closed behind him and then he was fairly running to the stairwell, shooting down to the floors below the penthouse.

Once there, he hopped on the elevator and sank to the lobby. He walked out as easily as he’d entered and then took up a position outside of the hotel. He would be able to see Burton and Kurtz remove Annja Creed and the fellow known as Mike.

He removed the cell phone from his pocket again and pressed the number two. It was answered immediately.

“Were you successful?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Tell me everything you heard and saw.”

Tuk faithfully recounted the entire escapade, delving into detail about the conversation and then also about the mysterious woman in the apartment.

The man on the phone seemed especially intrigued about her. “You said she seemed to know you were there.”

“Without a doubt. She knew I was there. In another moment she might have killed me, such was the feeling she gave me.”

“But when the man you called Burton came around the corner, she assumed the guise of a servant woman again?”

“Yes.”

“Very interesting.”

“Terrifying,” Tuk said.

“She is no doubt some type of plant on Tsing. Of that we can be certain. But for what reason?”

“I don’t know,” Tuk said.

“Where are you right at this moment?”

Tuk glanced around. He was again hidden in the shadows and certain no one would see him. The only way he could be discovered was if someone overheard him talking on the phone.

“I’m hidden across the street from the hotel entrance.”

“You said Tsing’s men will take them to the airfield?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a back entrance to the hotel they might opt to use instead of the front?”

“There is,” Tuk said. “But it leads only to an alley too small for a car to travel down. If they want to use a car to transport Annja Creed and her friend, they will need to come out the front entrance.”

The man grunted. “They’ll wait, then, until very late. When there’s a skeleton crew on duty in the lobby. That way they’ll be able to pass without too much interest in what they’re doing.”

“That is my guess, as well,” Tuk said. “I will stay with them all the way.”

“Good. I need to look a little bit further into this strange woman you spoke of just now. I want to know more about her and who she really is.”

“May I ask what your feeling is about her?”

“I’m not sure yet. But it may be assumed that she is no mere servant girl. She is obviously positioned close to Tsing for some reason. But for what, I don’t know.”

“She scared me. And I’ve never felt fear like that.”

“You did well,” the man said on the phone. “You acquitted yourself admirably and performed excellently. I’m very pleased with the results of your reconnaissance. Now I must decide what to do about this new wrinkle.”

“I do not envy you.”

“Just continue to make certain that Annja Creed stays safe. If Tsing lives up to his word, then all should be fine. But I want you around just in case.”

“And if it appears that Burton and Kurtz mean them harm?”

The man paused for the slightest moment. “I don’t wish to tell you how to handle that situation if you are not comfortable with it. However, my primary concern is that Annja Creed remains safe. As such, any steps you think wise to ensure that may be taken.”

Tuk grunted. “Understood.” He calmly fingered the folded kukri in his pocket. Dispatching Burton and Kurtz would please him.

“Don’t be in a hurry to exact vengeance on those who have wronged you, my friend. Act only if the situation calls for it. But if you must act, then do it swiftly and boldly. You must strike first and be without restraint in order to win the day.”

“I will.”

“Keep me informed of any developments.” The line disconnected and Tuk was once more alone in the darkness.

A stiff breeze blew out of the northwest and circled around his body. Tuk thought about what he’d heard in the penthouse and marveled. Even he knew of the legend of Shangri-La. It was supposed to be a mystical place of untold beauty and wondrous lands. The people who lived there were supposedly a master race of supremely intelligent and wise, peaceful people who knew the secrets of the universe.

But did such a place really exist?

It seemed too incredible to be real. And yet, here was the most powerful criminal in Katmandu telling Annja Creed and her friend Mike that he firmly believed it did exist. And here was an apparently famous adventurer and a learned man saying they believed the same.

If they thought the legends true, then Tuk supposed all that remained was to find out if it truly did exist.

He wondered what it would be like to discover such a land. With so much of his own past steeped in doubt and question, Tuk found the idea of seeing a place like Shangri-La a tempting diversion.

Perhaps when he was done working for the man on the telephone, he would try to find the place on his own. He didn’t have to become a farmer. He could wander the countryside and find his own path. And there was no telling where it might lead.

Nepal, after all, was a land of legends and myths. The swirling mix of religions and peoples made for all sorts of craziness. Tuk grinned as he thought about the creatures said to exist outside the boundaries of civilization.

The yeti still walked according to legends he heard told by traders who came down to Katmandu from up north. Tuk wasn’t sure what to make of that particular story, but he had enough memory of being outside the city to know there were many parts of the country that seemed to defy the modern age. Who knew what existed in the crevices of the vast mountain ranges that jutted out of the earth?

Anything seemed possible, he decided, when standing in the middle of the night in the shadows of the hotel.

Tuk frowned. This wasn’t like him. Seeing that woman upstairs had shaken him. He recognized that the fear had welled up from the bottom reaches of his soul. He’d never felt this before and the fact that he did now shook his confidence.

It was not good for what he was tasked with doing.

Tuk only hoped that he would not run into the woman again. He knew she would rend him from head to toe with those lethal fingernails.

He shuddered in the dark as another breeze blew over him. Judging from the position of the stars overhead, the hours had passed quickly.

Tuk leaned back and stretched himself like a cat. He heard several pops and felt his muscles lengthen as he flexed this way and that. A sudden urge in his bladder made him adjust himself and then urinate in the corner.

But always, he kept his eyes on the entrance of the hotel.

His vigilance was rewarded shortly after three o’clock in the morning. He saw a sudden movement and then Burton and Kurtz each emerged from the lobby. Burton had the woman and Kurtz walked with Mike.

A black car rolled up and Burton eased Annja into the backseat. Kurtz slid Mike into the backseat and then got himself in, as well. Burton walked around and opened the front passenger side. He took a quick glance around and then slid into the car.

Tuk stepped out and over to the motorbike rack nearby. In seconds, he’d freed one of the small bikes and started the engine just as Burton’s car pulled out of the hotel driveway.

Tuk let them get ahead by two blocks before following.

He glanced back at the hotel and couldn’t help but feel like someone was still watching him.

He frowned and turned his attention back to the car. They drove at a leisurely pace. There seemed no sense of urgency.

Tuk, as much as he despised Tsing, felt fairly certain that he didn’t mean Annja and Mike harm. He merely wanted them handled in such a way so as to prove that he was in absolute command of things. And certainly drugging them and positioning them in the plane would convey such a message.

Tuk wondered if Mike even had the map they’d spoken of with him. They would need it, after all, if they were going to fly and try to locate Shangri-La.

The car turned right and then followed the main road out toward the airfield. Tuk recognized the area and knew they were getting closer to the plane. He would have to make sure they didn’t spot him as they rolled inside the airfield perimeter.

Half a mile farther on, Tuk saw the taillights flash red as they braked and then turned left into the entryway. He eased the motorbike over to the side of the road and waited.

From his vantage point, Tuk could make out the car rolling toward a small airplane like the kind that ferried mountaineers all over the country.

Burton got out of the car first and checked their surroundings. Then he waved for Kurtz to exit the car. Together, they got Annja and Mike into the airplane. When they’d finished, Burton walked over to the trunk and removed several bags and stowed them in the plane, as well. When that was done, both he and Kurtz got back in the car and drove away.

Tuk rolled himself back into the shadows and let them drive past. He waited until he felt certain they were gone.

Then Tuk headed toward the plane, an idea already forming in his mind.

7

Annja woke up as the first rays of sunlight needled their way through the cockpit window of the de Havilland DHC-6 Twin Otter aircraft and roused her from the foggy drug-induced sleep. She looked around, realized where she was and then nudged Mike, who sat in the pilot’s seat.

He groaned and then reached up to stretch his hands, bumping them instead on the roof of the cockpit.

“Careful,” Annja said. “It’s cramped in here.”

Mike’s eyes fluttered open. “What the hell?”

Annja grinned. “Apparently, Tsing wants to make sure we get started finding Shangri-La right away.”

“I guess.” Mike looked around. “The plane’s a little large for what we need, but I guess it’ll do.”

“Can you fly this thing?” Annja asked.

Mike nodded. “Got my pilot’s license about five years back. When I knew I’d be spending more time in this part of the world, it seemed like a good idea to have it. The more you can be self-reliant over here, the better off you are.”

“Would have been better if you were financially self-reliant, too,” Annja said.

Mike blanched. “Yeah, all right, I know I deserved that one. I’m sorry, Annja, all right? Really I am. I had no idea that Tsing was pulling my strings like this. As far as I knew, it was a simple loan.”

“That has now turned into something else entirely.”

“Apparently so.”

Annja looked him over. She could see that Mike was not happy about having to work with Tsing. At the same time, she could see his sense of adventure exerting itself across his face. Mike’s eyes ran over the instrument panel and he switched on the two turboprop engines. Instantly, the propeller blades started to turn.

“We’re really going?” Annja asked.

Mike nodded. “We’ve got no choice in the matter. Tsing made it perfectly clear what would happen if we refused. And for my part, I may as well see whether this map is legitimate or not. After all of the trouble it’s managed to get me into, I owe it to myself—and you—to see it through.”

Annja looked around. Behind her, she could see several bags. “Looks like they gave us a bunch of supplies.”

Mike grunted. “It’s the least they could do.” He smacked his lips. “But I could do with a bottle of water. Any chance they packed a cooler back there?”

Annja felt around and found one. She pulled out a cold bottle of water for herself and one for Mike. “Cheers.”

Mike polished off the water quickly. “All right, let’s get this thing airborne and see what we can find out there.”

“What about the map?” she asked.

Mike eyed her. “What about it?”

“You have it with you?”

Mike tapped the side of his head. “Everything I need is stored safely inside the old cranium.”

“You’re joking,” Annja said.

Mike laughed. “Actually, I am. I had the map on me the entire time.”

“What if they’d taken it from you?”

Mike shrugged. “You heard Tsing. He can’t go out in the daylight with that skin condition of his. Maybe he’s a vampire or something.”

“Stop it,” Annja said, laughing.

Mike reached into a pocket of his cargo pants and pulled out a folded-up piece of paper. He handed it to Annja. “Check it out.”

Annja unfolded the map and frowned. “Most of the explorers who searched for Shangri-La thought it was either close to Bhutan or over near the western border.”

“They were wrong,” Mike said. “According to the map, the real location lies smack-dab in the middle of the country, closer to the Tibetan border.”

“You’re sure about this, huh?”

“As much as I can be.” Mike opened up the throttle some and the plane began to move. “Now I’d better make sure we have clearance to take off or else we’ll never make it out of here.”

Annja pulled her headset on and listened as he keyed his microphone and spoke to the air traffic control tower. In a short time, they had clearance and Mike urged the plane down the runway and then into the skies over Katmandu.

Annja looked out of her window as Mike took the plane into a steep climb to gain altitude and then settled on a course heading northwest.

“We’ll vector around and then head for Jomsom. That’s the closest airfield in the part of the country we’re looking for.”

“And from there? It looks like we’re going to Mustang,” Annja said, looking at the map.

Mike nodded. “The map says that Shangri-La lies somewhere in that area. It’s probably nestled in between some of the mountains up there. Once we’re beyond Pokhara, we’ll be flying into the canyon of the Kali Gandaki River. It’s an amazing sight. The Annapurna range flanks us on one side and Dhaulagiri sits on the other. The mountains effectively sandwich the area, making it difficult to gain entrance to most of the upper reaches of that part of Nepal.”

“Are you sure buzzing that region with this plane is such a good idea?” Annja asked.

Mike glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

“It’s Mustang. I don’t think I have to give you a refresher course in history, do I? The CIA used to use the region as a staging ground for Tibetan Khampa guerrillas who used to cross over the border and harass the Chinese soldiers stationed in Tibet.”

“Yeah, but that was back in the sixties and seventies. That’s all in the past.”

“We also happen to be flying the kind of plane that is used for parachute infiltration of special-operations troops. The Chinese might get a little nervous about us buzzing the joint.”

Mike sighed. “We’re sort of limited in terms of our options here, Annja. From Jomsom, most people continue either on foot or horseback to reach the area we want to fly to. But for us, that would take too long. And we would have the perspective we need from the air to see down and into the mountain valleys. We have to be airborne or else we may as well be searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack.”

Annja frowned. Something didn’t feel right about using the plane to search, but Mike was correct. Without their eyes in the sky, they’d have no chance of spotting anything.

“I understand that you’re concerned about our safety. I am, too. And we’ve also got the weather to contend with up here. Annapurna throws up some ferocious winds and Dhaulagiri is no slouch, either. We take an updraft or wind shear the wrong way and we’re toast.”

Annja looked at him. “You’re not doing much to instill me with confidence in your flying abilities, pal.”

Mike grinned. “Just being honest with you. Figure I owe you at least that much for putting up with me not telling you about Tsing earlier.”

“Forget it. Let’s concentrate on getting this done. We can handle Tsing another time and place.”

Mike nodded. “All right. We’ll make a quick stop at Jomsom for fuel and then take off again. We’ve got the entire day before us and we should be able to get some great perspectives on the area once we’re north of Jomsom.”

Annja stared out the window of the plane and marveled at the landscape below them. Overhead, bright blue skies streaked with wispy clouds flanked the snow-topped peaks of the Himalayan mountain ranges. The roof of the world, Annja thought, never looked so utterly amazing.

“I suppose it’s easy to see why so many people pictured this as being home to Shangri-La,” she said a few moments later. “It’s incredible up here in this part of the world.”

Mike smiled as he pointed out a variety of landmarks. “The Nazis thought that Shangri-La was home to a superior race of Nordic people like them. In 1938 they sent an expedition to Tibet led by a guy named Schafer. They never found anything, of course, but it didn’t stop Hitler from imagining that there might be a link to this part of the world.”

Annja sighed. “I know a lot of areas up here claim title to Shangri-La, but that’s mostly for tourism, right?”

“Sure. There’s even an airline named after it that operates in this region. They had a serious crash in October ’08. Sixteen tourists and two crew were killed two miles short of the runway at Jomsom. Terrible accident.”

“Which we won’t be reliving today,” Annja said.

Mike smiled. “No chance. Look.” He pointed out ahead of them. “Dhaulagiri, up close and personal.”

Annja looked out the front windshield and saw the giant mountain ahead of them. “It’s eight thousand meters, right?”

“Yep.” Mike nosed the plane down toward the river valley. “We’re on final approach to Jomsom now. I’ll need to talk to air traffic control for a moment.”

She listened to Mike informing Jomsom control that they were coming in. He nodded and then turned to Annja. “Ready for our first landing?”

“Sure.”

Mike guided the plane down and in at a steep descent. As the runway loomed before them, Annja could see that the river valley wasn’t that wide at all. The fact there was an airstrip up here was a miracle in itself.

Mike flared the flaps and then tucked the plane down on the runway with a slight bump. They raced along and Mike pressed the brakes, easing them to a stop. Gradually, he pulled the plane in and parked it next to another DHC-6 and then shut down the engines.

“All right, let’s get this baby gassed up and get back up there. I don’t want to lose any time.”

He pulled off the headset and hopped out of the plane. Annja unbuckled herself and eased out of the seat and climbed onto the tarmac. She stretched and felt marvelous moving around again. She hadn’t realized how cramped the interior of the plane was until just then.

Mike came walking back, directing a ground crew toward the plane. They dutifully led a hose to the gas tanks and started pumping.

Mike tossed Annja a can of soda. “Last gasp of civilization in these parts. From here on up north into Mustang, it gets downright spooky.”

“Spooky?”

“Well, there’s little up here to remind you of home. Pony caravans carry all the goods and, like I said earlier, most people are on foot or horseback. This is the frontier. Hell, parts of the region we’ll be flying over are off-limits to us on the ground. We’d need someone from the government to tag along.”

“Why is that?”

Mike took a gulp of the soda and then belched appreciably. “Who knows? Maybe the government knows where Shangri-La is and is just protecting it. Or maybe it’s because some of the less intelligent tourists would blunder over the border into Tibet if someone wasn’t around to stop them. No sense having an international incident if you can avoid it.”

Annja took a sip of her soda. “Makes sense.”

Mike watched the ground crew finish pumping the plane full of gas and then paid them from a bundle of cash he had in his pocket. He glanced at Annja and shrugged. “Mr. Tsing thought of everything. You all set to get back to it?”

“Yep.”

Annja climbed into the cockpit and strapped herself in. Mike climbed in a moment later and looked at the back of the plane.

Annja glanced at him. “Everything okay?”

“I guess.”

“What?”

Mike shrugged. “Probably just my mind playing tricks on me. That damned wine took me for a whirl last night.”

“What is it, Mike?”

“Thought I saw movement in the back of the plane.” He shook his head. “Nothing to it. You were climbing in when it happened and you must have jostled the plane. That’s all.” He switched on the propellers and smiled. “Let’s get out of here.”

Annja slid her headset back on and then felt the lurch as the plane started to move again. Mike keyed the microphone and spoke again to air traffic control. In seconds they hurtled down the tiny runway and shot back up into the sky. Annja leaned back in her seat, enjoying the rush of gaining altitude so fast.

Mike climbed and then banked around, continuing on their original northwesterly course. He leveled the plane off and then set a course that would take them farther into the Mustang region.

Annja wondered what the future held in store for them.

8

“The curious thing about Mustang is how the entire region pokes up into Tibet,” Mike said. “It almost looks like a thorn in the side.”

“Hence, the reason it made such a great staging area for the Khampa guerrillas,” Annja said. “They didn’t have to travel as far or retreat as much to get back to safety. It made sense to stage there.”

Mike piloted the plane and brought them over a particular vista. Annja looked down and saw green fields. “That looks rather lush for the area.”

“Concentrated irrigation,” Mike said. “It’s not indicative of the entrance to the garden of Eden.” He smiled. “I know the temptation to call it such, but the farmers up here have adapted quite well to the parameters of their environment.” He pointed ahead of them toward where the mountain called Dhaulagiri rose up like a towering majesty. “I want to fly a little higher. See if maybe we can spot something from up there.”

Annja looked at the peak. She could see storm clouds clustering around it. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? That doesn’t look too inviting.”

Mike nodded. “We’ll be all right as long as we don’t get too close. The most important thing is to get as high as we can in order to observe more than we can see skirting this level. We keep doing this, all we’re accomplishing is burning fuel.”

“If you say so.” Annja leaned back as Mike brought the stick back toward them and the plane responding by climbing. Annja could see snowfields out of the cockpit window. The wind suddenly buffeted the plane. Annja winced. Turbulence was something she didn’t care for.

“It’s a little choppy up here,” Mike said.

“You don’t say.”

Out of the window, Annja thought she saw something glint across one of the snowfields. She frowned and squinted again. “Did you see that?”

“What?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure. I could have sworn I saw something down there across that last field we buzzed.”

“Like what?”

“A glint of something. Maybe metallic. Maybe someone was signaling us?”

Mike shook his head. “We’re pretty close to the border of Tibet here. I doubt very much there’s a party down there trying to signal us. Doesn’t seem likely.”

“I saw something.”

Mike glanced at the instrument panel. “I can take another pass if you want me to check it out.”

“Might be worth a look.”

Mike nodded. “Hang on.” He banked the plane and Annja saw the vista shift to the left. Mike kept the heading on course and then leveled off. “Over there?”

The snowfield loomed in front of them, about halfway up the side of Dhaulagiri.

“Yeah, just down there,” Annja said, pointing.

Mike eased the stick forward and the plane descended a little. “All right, here we go.”

Annja heard the engines whine as the plane dipped and buzzed the snowfield. They were probably a thousand feet over the top of the field when she saw it again. “There!”

Mike turned his head and frowned. “That looks like—”

“Mike!”

But Mike had already seen the sudden flash and jerked the stick hard to the left. Annja looked back and saw the flare as a rocket went streaking past the right wing. “What the hell!”

“Someone’s shooting at us,” Mike said. He drew the plane back to the right and then angled it so it was in a steep climb. “Hang on!”

Annja clutched at the armrests on her seat as Mike jerked the plane all over the sky, trying to make it a smaller target. Annja strained to look over the back of her seat and see behind them. But the mass of bags in the rear section made it impossible.

“I can’t see!” she shouted.

Mike banked the plane now. They’d climbed in altitude and he swung the plane to the left. “We should have an angle on them in a second,” he said.

But as they came around again, Annja saw nothing to cause concern. “I don’t see anything.”

“Neither do I, but someone very obviously shot a missile at us.” Mike keyed the microphone and cleared his throat to speak to air traffic control. Annja listened as he relayed what had happened and notified the tower that they were returning to Jomsom. He switched off and turned to Annja. “It’s too risky for us to be out here. If someone’s got missiles and they’re shooting at us—”

“But why would they?” she asked.

Mike shook his head. “Damned if I know. But we can’t risk our lives trying to figure it out. The best thing to do is land and see if we can get some information from somewhere about this. Maybe Tsing can help us.”

“Tsing? Why would he—?”

“Because he wants to find this place as badly as we do. And if someone is causing us problems, then they’re causing Tsing problems, too. He won’t tolerate that. And I’m sure he can bring some muscle to bear on it.”

Annja frowned. “Seems like we’re getting deeper into debt with him if we do that.”

“You’ve got a better suggestion?”

Annja sighed. “I guess not.”

Mike nodded. “I know it’s not ideal. But we’ve got to use what we have. And if Tsing is desperate to find Shangri-La and can figure out who wants to blow us out of the sky, then that’s all the better. Like you said, we can handle Tsing later on. What I don’t want to handle right now is a missile while I’m flying over one of the largest mountains in the world.”

“I understand,” Annja said. “And you’re right. We should land and get out of danger. I just don’t understand why anyone would want to shoot at us.”

“It’s worthless trying to figure it out now. We don’t know anything about who it might be. We’re wasting time up here.”

He banked the plane again and brought them on a course away from Dhaulagiri, back toward Jomsom. “Won’t be long now,” he said.

In the next moment, Annja heard a sudden explosion off the right side of the plane. The plane jumped from the impact of the rocket as it struck the right wing. Alarms sounded from the cockpit instrumentation. Mike shouted for Annja to hold on.

They were already rapidly losing altitude. The plane started spinning and plummeting toward the earth. Annja looked at what was left of the right wing and saw it was on fire. Black smoke poured out, swirling about them as they spun and fell through the sky.

“I can’t control it!” Mike shouted. “We’re going down!”

Annja grabbed the microphone and switched it on. “Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is—”

She could barely hear herself talking. The alarms were so loud. Looking out of the cockpit through the dense black smoke she caught brief glimpses of white snow. And then of Dhaulagiri looming in front of them again. The plane almost seemed to be climbing, but that couldn’t be possible. She glanced at Mike and saw him straining to pull the stick this way and that, trying to fight the plane to a softer landing than the one Annja expected them to receive.

The plane toppled through the sky; the altimeter needle spun like a pinwheel and the numbers shot past. Annja tore her eyes away and braced for impact.

When it came, the plane slammed into the side of the mountain with a deafening sound of metal being crushed and torn apart. The cockpit window shattered and cold snow and ice filled the plane.

The plane seemed to keep sliding for a distance and then, at last, it came to a merciful halt.

Annja heard herself screaming.

And then saw nothing but blackness.

WHEN ANNJA CAME TO, daylight had already started to dip below the horizon and night was rushing back to claim its birthright. Annja groaned and twisted in her seat. She was wet from the snow and ice that had surrounded her and melted from her body heat. She fought to release the harness around her, scrabbling to dig through the snow to reach the release.

As she shifted, she felt a sharp punch of pain in her side and took a gasping breath.

She felt her ribs gingerly. One, maybe two, on her left side felt badly bruised or broken. She ignored the pain and struggled to release the harness.

She looked at Mike. His head was thrown back against the pilot’s seat. His eyes were closed. Annja reached out for his neck and put her fingers against his throat. She felt a thready pulse there and exhaled in a rush.

They were alive.

But they both needed help in a bad way. Annja reached for the microphone, but as soon as she tried to key it, she heard nothing. The plane had lost communications in the impact.

Annja took stock. She could move her legs and arms. Aside from the ribs, she seemed okay. Her head had a lump near her temple. She’d probably bashed it on the cockpit as the plane hit and that’s what caused her to black out.

But otherwise, she was fine.

She brushed some of the snow away from her window and peered out. From what she could see, the plane had hit the side of Dhaulagiri and then slid across and came to rest on a fairly level piece of ground. The right wing, which had been shot off by the second missile, no longer smoked and she saw why. It lay covered in snow and that had helped extinguish any remaining smoldering wires.

Annja frowned. That also meant that there’d be no smoke trail to help rescuers find them.

I need to get out of here, she thought. It was the only way she could get an accurate perspective on their situation.

Annja braced herself for the pain and then grunted as she clambered out of her seat. The pain in her side was tremendous, but she steeled herself and then clawed her way outside of the plane.

As she took her first step, she fell into waist-deep snow. Instantly, she felt the cold smack her hard. Wind whipped around her and bits of snow and ice stung her skin.

She remembered that Mike had seemingly put some more altitude on even as the plane sank toward the earth. Annja looked around and reasoned that if Dhaulagiri was eight thousand meters high, then they were at least halfway up the mountain.

The air was thin and Annja’s lungs struggled to fill themselves with oxygen. Each gasping breath brought more pain in Annja’s side.

Then her ears caught a sound.

It was coming from the plane.

She frowned and started back toward it. Maybe Mike had regained consciousness.

But as she neared the cockpit, she could see that Mike was still out. She’d need to get a fire going soon if they had any hope of lasting the night.

She heard another sound. It was a moan. But it didn’t come from Mike.

Annja steeled herself. Was the person who had shot them out of the sky coming back to finish the job he’d started?

If so, they were going to meet with a very unpleasant Annja Creed. She summoned the mystical sword she’d inherited from Joan of Arc. The sword gleamed in her hands.

“Who’s there?” she demanded. “Show yourself!”

The wind whipped up around her. Annja fought off the icy sting and glared toward the plane.

She heard another moan. She struggled to get closer to the plane. As she did, the plane seemed to rock. Again, Annja glanced at Mike to make sure it wasn’t him causing the motion.

It wasn’t.

Someone else was inside the plane.

Annja’s vision swam as she drew closer to the plane. How in the world had someone else gotten on it? How was that possible? Did Tsing hide someone in there?

She swung her sword and cleaved an opening in the back of the wreckage. Like a piñata splitting open under the assault, the metal sheared under the power of the sword and spilled its contents into the snow.

Annja saw bags tumble out.

And then she saw a tiny man come falling out, as well. He was bloody and he looked terrified.

But he was alive.

Annja took a step toward him, felt another wave of pain wash through her and toppled over.

Back into darkness.

9

The simple fact of his predicament was that Tuk had never ridden on an airplane before. He’d seen plenty of them and he knew what they were and even the basic scientific principles behind them.

But he had never stepped onto one until he’d had the idea to stow away on the plane with Annja Creed and her friend Mike. Any fear he’d felt at the idea was quickly squelched by the promise of reward from the man on the phone. Tuk would again prove himself to the man and hopefully reap an even better reward.

He’d made himself as comfortable as possible after he’d crawled into the plane. His first order of business was to make sure that Annja and Mike were, in fact, still alive. He felt for their pulses and then settled down among the bags, cushioning himself and making sure that the cooler of beverages was closer to the pilot and copilot seats. The last thing he needed was one of them rummaging through the bags and discovering him hidden away.

Once he’d done that, he called the man on the cell phone.

“You’re with them now?”

Tuk nodded. “I am in the airplane. They are still unconscious it would appear, but alive.”

“Your plan is to go with them?”

Tuk smiled. “You requested I remain with them to make sure the woman stays safe. I intend to fulfill my end of the arrangement as best I am able.”

“You’re a marvel, my friend. Without a doubt the best I’ve ever worked with. Are you certain they won’t know you’re there?”

“They will not. I am secreted in the back with more of the baggage that Tsing’s men left for them. I went through the bags. There is a lot of cold weather gear useful for trekking in the mountains. An assortment of other supplies are in the bags, as well.”

“Mountain trekking? Interesting.”

“The man known as Mike had a map on him.”

The man paused. “The logical assumption would be that the map shows the location of Shangri-La on it.”

“I have examined the map. It does not show anything but rather a series of routes that seem to focus on the middle of the country. Particularly, there are several routes through the Mustang region.”

“Mustang?”

“Yes.”

“What do you know of that area?”

“Not much. I know there are temples far to the north in Lo Monthang. But otherwise, very little is known about the region. Parts of it are even off-limits to many foreigners.”

“Do you know why?”

“I’ve heard tell that the government is very sensitive to the fact that the Tibetan border is close. They don’t want to risk offending the Chinese who occupy that region.”

“That makes sense,” the man said. “Still, I wonder…” His voice trailed off. Tuk left him to this thoughts and waited.

Finally, the man seemed to come to a decision. “You will stay with them when they fly up to the region?”

“I will.”

“Excellent. I will be in touch. Let me know the moment you have any more information to share. You’ve done an incredible job.”

Tuk beamed. “Thank you.”

The line went dead and Tuk looked out of the back window. Dawn was starting to break across the eastern horizon. And from the front of the plane, he caught movement. The woman—Annja—was beginning to stir. The drug was wearing off and, very soon, they would both be awake.

Tuk tried to quell the sudden fear that stirred in the pit of his stomach. The prospect of flying now reared its head. Tuk did not fear many things in life, even given his diminutive stature.

But flying?

He shrank down among the bags and waited for the terror to begin.

WHEN MIKE BROUGHT the plane down at Jomsom, Tuk had a brief moment to take a breath. The flight up to the northwest had been terribly frightening. And yet, there had been something else that stirred within him—a sense of adventure and excitement. Tuk had labored so long for the spies of the world, that being on his own operation now thrilled him like nothing else had in his life. No wonder, he supposed, certain people actually flocked to the intelligence world.

He stretched his legs in the back of the plane and luxuriated in getting some blood flowing back into his limbs. He could overhear Annja and Mike talking outside of the plane and knew they would be back inside soon.

But he needed a drink.

Dare he risk it?

His parched lips begged for mercy and he crept forward in the plane like a shadow. With one hand on the cooler top, he reached in and removed a single bottle of water from within. He scurried back to his hiding place and drank the water. The cold liquid rejuvenated him and helped still his beating heart.

He let out an involuntary sigh of relief when Mike and Annja jumped back on to the plane. Mike caught the movement.

Tuk froze as Mike questioned Annja about it.

If they stopped to look in the back, he would be discovered!

His heart thundered in his chest. Perhaps there was a better way to make a living. Tuk knew that Annja and Mike wouldn’t do him harm, but the prospect of discovery set his nerves on edge.

But Mike ignored his instinct and got the plane airborne. In the back of the plane, Tuk felt the water he’d just sucked down loll about his insides. Twice he had to bite back the surge of bile in his throat.

And the worst was yet to come.

After they’d climbed to a staggering height, Tuk felt his ears pop. The roar of the engines made his ears hurt and he buried his head down amid the bags. Then, without warning, Mike threw the plane all over the sky, twisting it this way and that. The engines whined in protest, but complied with Mike’s directions.

Tuk and the bags in back, however, slid and tumbled everywhere. Tuk halfway expected Annja to turn and look back only to see Tuk’s arms and legs akimbo as he sprawled from one side of the plane to the other while Mike engaged in his acrobatics.

But she didn’t.

Gradually, Mike leveled the plane and Tuk gathered the bags about him again, trying his best to wedge them in around him so he could be reasonably secure. The last thing he wanted was to have to go through that again.

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