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CHAPTER 1
Present Day
A TORTURED CONFUSION of rock and ice signaled their arrival at the Bogda Feng glacier of northern China. Eric Logan pulled his horse up and looked back at the party of stragglers stretched out fifty yards behind him. He reflected that at forty-two years of age, it just might be time to consider a new line of work. After all the years he'd been at the United States embassy in China and after all the terribly urgent assignments he'd been given, this had to be the balls-on dumbest. And most dangerous.
Bringing up the rear of the ragged line was Dr. Hu Dazhao. Forty years old and the leading physicist in China, Dr. Hu was the single man most responsible for his nation's surging nuclear missile program. He was also something of a rarity in the Communist Party Eric had jousted with for so many years: a man of conscience.
Logan had known many Chinese, good, bad, and indifferent. He'd even, for a time, been married to one. But he had rarely come across one more forthright and courageous than Dr. Hu. Not since that lone figure in Tiananmen Square had stood against the tanks with nothing but a grocery bag in his hand had Eric seen a Chinese take a more forlorn stance. For Premier Zhao Zemin had little patience when it came to Âcitizens who rocked the boat — his boat.
The premier was a sort of modern-day Nero. Except, instead of a fiddle, he played with his country's ancient artifacts, dreaming of creating a world-class museum that would suck up yuan like an enormous vacuum cleaner, even as hundreds of millions went hungry and the surging Chinese economy threatened to come apart at the seams from a bewildering array of environmental catastrophes.
It was an old argument. Was saving the relics of the past worth neglecting the needs of the present? Logan had argued the point ad nauseam with his good friend, Dr. Marcia Kessler, the leading archaeologist at work in China today. The good doctor saw the dichotomy, but her training and passion forced her to argue that the remains of the past were finite and must be preserved before the onslaught of dam-building, flooded lowlands, and even the moving of mountains destroyed them utterly.
And utterly destroyed they would be.
The country was now controlled absolutely by the voracious developers who saw only dollar — or yuan — signs. Communism had all but withered away in the face of the capitalist juggernaut. Hard cash ruled. Even in the days of the dynastic leaders more attention had been paid to the little people than under Premier Zhao. It was heartbreaking for Logan to witness the neglect and destruction of a people and culture he had grown to revere.
When Dr. Hu had initiated contact with the embassy to seek asylum, American politicians had been positively giddy at the prospect. And Logan hadn't been unhappy, either, to see someone finally stick his finger in the premier's eye. But Dazhao wouldn't leave without his family. The entire bloody clan. So of course, Eric, their man in Beijing, had been enlisted.
It had been a screw-up from the beginning.
Longwei rode up beside him. "I saw two riders behind us on that last rise. I'm certain there are others with them."
Eric nodded. "I saw them."
Longwei was a man of few words. They'd developed a close relationship as a result of many climbing expeditions over the years. Now, each could tell what the other was thinking. They were in deep shit.
The plan, such as it was, had been cooked up less than twenty-four hours after Dr. Hu declared his need for protection. It consisted of moving Dazhao, his wife, two young children, and his father-in-law out of Beijing in the dark of night.
They'd driven 1500 miles to the edge of the Taklamakan Desert, hiding out during the day and making use of back roads at night. It wasn't the easiest way out of the country, but it was the safest. Eric had used the route before, though it now appeared someone had been on their trail for the last two days.
To throw off pursuit, they'd ditched the car and purchased horses from an outfitter near Urumqi with the intention of riding cross-country to the border with Kazakhstan. Eric knew the mountainous country like the back of his hand. He and Longwei had made scores of trips through the region. But never with a party of children and an old man.
"See if you can hurry them along," Eric said. "We're going to have to split up."
"I expected as much," Longwei replied.
As they approached the base of the glacier, a jumbled mass of barren rocks and fallen chunks of ice, Eric kept an eye out for the easiest way through the treacherous landscape. He remained puzzled as to why their pursuers didn't simply close in and arrest them. The men obviously knew where they were, yet they did nothing but follow. It worried him. Something wasn't right. Perhaps they hoped to detect Eric's underground network first, or maybe the decision had been made to dispose of them quietly in some remote, out-of-the-way place.
Yet it was hard for him to believe this was the government's intention. Dr. Hu was much too valuable to do away with. And there were always ways to force him to do as he was told. That was why he'd refused to leave the country without his family.
He looked back again. Dr. Hu was trying to encourage his children on, but his father-in-law was clearly tiring, his head down, barely able to hang onto his mount. Longwei rode beside the man, trying to hold on to him. He gave Eric a slight shake of his head. The elderly man was near the end of his rope.
Ahead, Eric saw a split in the glacier, a possible hiding place. It was risky to stop, but they had no alternative. He pointed to the cleft in the ice and Longwei nodded.
Quickly now, they pulled into the small rent in the glacier. Eric jumped off his horse and helped the others dismount. He kept a wary eye on the ice above for falling slabs. He dumped their three pack horses' loads on the ground and tied the remaining horses together so one man could lead them.
"Head south, away from the glacier," he told Longwei. "If they buy it, we'll double up on the horses and try to make the border." He grasped his friend's hand. "Push hard. And remember, any time you want to come out, you know I'll be there to help."
But he knew that day would never come. Though Longwei was thoroughly westernized, he loved his country and would never leave it or his extended family. He lived for the day when the present rulers would be overthrown and China would be free.
Longwei grabbed the lead horse, which shied away, pulling him forward.
"Look out!" Eric cried. For a moment, Longwei and the horse teetered at the edge of a crevasse. Eric lunged forward and slapped the horse on its hind end. The beast bolted ahead, Longwei fell to the ground at the lip of the crevasse, and Eric barely managed to grab the animal before it ran off. When he turned back, the horse finally under control, he saw Longwei still sitting on the ground staring at the ice in front of him. His face was almost white.
"What is it?" asked Eric, thinking he'd hurt himself somehow.
Longwei just sat there. Then, slowly, he stood up and moved closer to the glacier wall. "Look," he said.
One hand still holding the horse, Eric moved to where he could see what Longwei was pointing at. What he saw very nearly made him drop the reins.
Completely frozen and encased in the ice was a body. The others gathered around and stared at the incredible sight. The form had at least six inches of ice all around it, but could be seen clearly, in a wavy, sort of funhouse mirror way.
"Is it a climber?" asked Dr. Hu.
"He's naked," said one of the children.
Eric peered at the figure in wonder. The body was wizened, its dark bronze skin tight against bone. There was shoulder-length black hair and a series of tattoos that ran down each side of the spinal column all the way to the base of the withered buttocks. On its feet was a pair of woven grass sandals, the only body covering in evidence. The face was turned away and could not be seen.
"That's no climber," he said. "I think it's very old. Maybe thousands of years."
Dr. Hu moved forward and stared at the frozen man with wonder in his eyes. "One of our ancestors," he almost whispered. "Perhaps, one of the first people to live in China."
Longwei brought them all back to reality. "There's no time. You must hide and I must leave." He started to mount the lead horse.
One of the children leaned over and picked something off the ground. "What's this?" she asked.
Eric took the object from her. "It's part of a human foot." He turned the shrunken, misshapen item in his hand. It had begun to thaw and felt almost like normal human flesh. The blackened toenails were clearly evident. He knelt beside the figure frozen in the ice and could see where one of the feet had split off from the rest of the body by a rent in the glacier. He examined it a moment longer, then handed it to Longwei.
"If you make it back, give it to one of your friends at People's University. It could be an important find."
Longwei stuffed the object in his saddle bag. There was no time to discuss the matter. He nodded to Eric and kicked his horse forward. Slowly the other animals fell into line and they moved quickly across the barren landscape, away from the small party left behind.
Eric pulled their three remaining horses as far into their hiding place as possible and told Dr. Hu to keep them quiet. Then he went to his pack and took out two knives, each with a four-inch blade. He'd have given his right arm for a gun, but it was next to impossible to bring firearms into the country.
"What are you going to do?" asked Dazhao's wife in a Âpanicky voice.
He put his hands on her shoulders. She was badly frightened, more for her children than herself, Eric believed. It had not been easy for her to accept her husband's decision to leave.
"We can't afford to be caught," he said quietly. "I must see if the men who follow us take the bait and go after Longwei."
"And if they don't?"
"Then I will deal with them," he replied, simply. He squeezed her arms and smiled. "It will be all right," he promised. "Stay here with your family."
He moved out into the rocky surroundings and found a nest of boulders. Climbing up a dozen feet, he had a view across the hills. He could still make out Longwei, moving down-country, following the course of the chalky stream of glacial melt-water.
Then he saw their pursuers. Six men on horseback. They were still a hundred yards away, but he could clearly see the barrels of their rifles. They moved confidently despite the difficult terrain and appeared to be wearing civilian clothes. He hadn't expected this. He'd been certain they would be soldiers.
He watched them with a kind of detached interest. The odds were not good, but if the men decided not to go after Longwei, they would find something more waiting for them than the typical, frightened defector they were used to dealing with.
As the riders passed below him, they stopped and engaged in conversation. Longwei was now out of sight, but the men obviously believed the party had split up. One of them, evidently a skilled tracker, dismounted and looked at the ground closely. He said something to the others. Eric wasn't sure of the dialect, but he could make out enough to know their intention was to do them harm. They seemed to be arguing over which way to go. One man wanted to continue on along the face of the glacier, but the tracker kept gesturing in the direction Longwei had taken.
Finally, after much discussion, the group split into two batches of three men each. This was the best outcome Eric could have hoped for, a separation of the forces he had to deal with.
The men who continued after Longwei moved off down the noisy glacial stream and out of sight. The other three decided to take a break. They dismounted, sat on stones by the water and began to eat.
Eric waited several minutes until he was certain the departed men were far enough away that they wouldn't hear the cries of their friends. He needed to be brutally efficient. None of the men could be allowed to get off a shot.
He eased through the nest of boulders until he was a dozen feet from them. Their rifles remained attached to their mounts, but he was unable to tell for certain if any of them had pistols. He didn't think so, for they seemed, up close, to be a ragtag bunch. Perhaps they were one of the lawless groups known to prey on climbers and tourists in this region. Eric balanced one of the knives easily in his right hand, gauged the distance and poised on the balls of his feet.
He threw the first knife. It lodged between the shoulder blades of the man nearest him, who slumped forward without a sound. His comrades stared for a moment in shocked disbelief. It was all the time Eric needed.
In an instant, he was on one of the men, slitting his throat. The third fellow, finally realizing what was happening, managed to get one of the horses between himself and Eric and was fumbling for his rifle.
Eric leapt straight at the beast, driving his hands into its face. The spooked animal reared back, knocking the man to the ground. But he had fallen with the rifle in his hand. As he struggled to lift the weapon, Eric threw his remaining blade and caught him squarely in the chest. There was a gurgling sound and he lay still.
Three men dead in less than a minute. There had been almost no sound, other than the sudden gasps of the men and the whinny of the horse. He picked up the rifle and led their new horses back to the cleft in the glacier. Dr. Hu had watched the drama and now looked at Eric for the first time with fear in his eyes. "I — I wanted to help you," he said. "But it was over before I could even make my feet move." He stared at the ground. "I am sorry."
"No need, Doctor. This is what I can do, so I do it. I can't help you work out an equation any more than you could help me kill a man."
Dr. Hu nodded.
"That was unfortunate, but necessary," Eric said. "They meant to kill us. I don't believe they had any connection to the government, however. I think they were simple bandits who thought they saw an easy target — our supplies, horses, whatever money we might be carrying and ... your wife and daughter." He looked at Dr. Hu's startled face. It was important for him to understand just how serious the stakes were here.
"Let's get mounted," he said, after a moment. "At least now we have extra horses and can move faster. With luck, we can make the border in two or three days."
"What about your friend?" asked Dr. Hu. "Won't they try to kill him, too?"
"They may try. But we must save you and your family. That's our priority. Longwei understands this and he'll move quickly. No one knows the area better than he does. He'll either outpace them or hide from them. They'll grow tired of the chase and come back to find their friends. By then, we'll be long gone."
Taklamakan Desert
Dr. Marcia Kessler emerged from the burial chamber slapping clouds of white dust from her baggy pants and proceeded to bend over in a coughing fit. As soon as she was able, she lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, her sloping shoulders shuddering with pleasure.
Corkie Miller, one of her young graduate assistants, came over. There was a hint of fear in his eyes. "How am I supposed to record this ... outcome ... Dr. Kessler?"
She sighed. "Just put it down as an unusual deterioration of the specimen, Corkie."
"Well that's the truth."
But the apprehension in his eyes remained. "You don't think it could be anything contagious? You know, something we should be worried about?"
"We've all been in that hole for weeks, Corkie, breathing the dust, touching the specimen. If there's any danger, it's a little late to worry about it. Let's just do our jobs. The answers are down there, I promise you."
"It's what else might be down there that's worrying me." He started to turn away, then added, "Evelyn and I are going into town to get supplies."
Kessler nodded absently. It was an off day at the dig with only the three of them on site. Her gaze wandered to the little colony of worker's huts nestled at the base of the hill beside the Tarim River. The decrepit, conically-shaped yurts were insulated with overlapping layers of nearly white felt. From a distance they looked almost like igloos, implausibly situated on these brown and barren hillsides. But nomadic herders had lived in this fashion, here at the edge of central Asia's great desert, the Taklamakan, for thousands of years.
In fact, the residents of this particular colony were not local herders but Tibetans, little more than wage-slaves, really, now under the total control and domination of the Chinese. She felt once again the pang of guilt as she stared at the terrible poverty displayed below. These poor people made her work possible and, despite their suffering, remained adamantly cheerful.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Flypaper"
by .
Copyright © 2014 Chris Angus.
Excerpted by permission of Skyhorse Publishing.
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