The Traitor's Gold, page 28
He was free. He vaulted over the front of the first car to his left.
His boots came down near Basso’s head. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Miura was on top of the man, astride him. There was blood everywhere, pooling, spreading quickly. Miura’s knife was inside Basso, all the way to the hilt. Basso’s eyes were wide open, his mouth stretched in a silent, terrified scream. Miura’s face was practically touching Basso’s, and the smile on Miura’s face was unmistakably vicious.
‘No!’
Mason darted forward. Miura rose instantly to meet him, holding the knife underhand and crouching in readiness. Mason had half an eye on Basso.
The eyes glazed over as the man breathed his last.
Then Miura was surrounded by his own men, the rest of the team surging through the stationary cars, running down the open rows. For a moment, Mason froze, facing eleven men, and then his own team hit from behind.
It was chaos. Roxy led with her feet, kicking, stepping and then kicking again. She struck men in the small of the back, sent them sprawling. Quaid punched and pushed. Hassell used his momentum and his bodyweight, bowling two men over. The SED smashed into cars or went sprawling or fell to their knees. Some knives clattered away.
It was when flashing blue lights started washing across the façades of nearby establishments that Mason considered the situation. Sirens split the night. There was no way any of them – including the SED – could afford to be caught here tonight.
Mason let out a yell, told everyone to get the hell away from the scene. They all knew the meetup point. Next, if he hadn’t seen it in action, he wouldn’t have believed it. His team just melted away, slipped between the motionless cars and vanished into the extravagant night. Mason backed away from Miura, giving the man space, felt a car at his back and then slid around it. Miura, breathing heavily, just crouched there and watched him, an animal at rest, his hands coated in blood, his teeth bared.
Mason hurried down the row of cars, then glided across the rows, heading for the far pavement, the side of the road where Casino Royale stood. He made his way past the Imperial Palace and Harrah’s, straightening his clothes as he went, smoothing down his hair and wiping the sweat from his face. He checked himself for wounds, for blood, but found nothing serious. His arms and knuckles ached, his right leg was grazed. Many times, he checked back, but saw no sign of Miura and his goons following.
Mason flitted between the crowds, his face washed in swanky lights. He soon recovered from the exertions, his breathing and gait returning to normal. Casino Royale stood ahead, its unmistakable multi-hued sign standing tall above the entrance. There were people crowded around the doors, and Mason joined them, eager to make sure his team was okay. He pushed through into the noisy, cool interior, made his way through the slots and a few tables. He had to ask the way to the main blackjack area but was soon heading towards it, eyes scanning left and right.
His heart leapt. Roxy was staring at him from across the room. Sally and Luciane were pretending to watch a game, but had their eyes on him. Quaid and Hassell were almost immediately at his side.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ Mason said as they gathered. He was stunned.
‘Did they kill Basso?’ Sally whispered.
Mason nodded. ‘I couldn’t save him.’ The knowledge tore at him inside.
‘That bastard Miura looked like he enjoyed it,’ Luciane said.
Mason nodded. ‘He’s a murderous freak.’
‘I realise this might be insensitive,’ Hassell said. ‘But it has to be asked. Did they extract any information out of him before he died?’
Mason nodded. ‘Pretty sure they extracted all of it. Miura and his people know exactly where the casino is.’
A brief silence fell over them as they all contemplated what that meant. Luciane spoke up first. ‘I understand completely,’ she said, ‘if you want to end this now. This is my mess, my quest. I started it. I can’t ask you to help me finish it.’
Mason and Sally both reached out a hand at the same time. Sally said, ‘We’re in this together. We want to be. To the end.’
Mason glanced around at the packed room, the absorbed players, the babbling watchers. He couldn’t see the wall past a sea of heads and shoulders. At a table, a man shouted in pleasure and a great cheer went up.
Mason turned to the others. ‘Assuming Miura makes it to the airport without being arrested, we have to figure he has a head start.’
‘We have to get out of here as soon as possible,’ Hassell said.
Until now, Quaid had stayed relatively quiet. It was now that he smiled and looked at them all, biting his lower lip.
‘And that, my friends, is where I come in. I have an idea.’
‘Oh no,’ Roxy said. ‘Is it as good as your idea to go to Dublin?’
Quaid nodded. ‘Better,’ he said.
Chapter 44
The flight to the Gobi Desert was a long one, and wouldn’t be direct, only they weren’t going to the Gobi. Not straightaway.
At Quaid’s insistence, they were flying to Italy first.
Mason had been instantly suspicious. He remembered them flying to Italy once before, and the fiery woman they had met. Still, this was the best way, Quaid said. They could fly non-stop to Italy, and then non-stop to China, which would pretty much match or better Miura’s speed. Quaid had made a tough phone call before they left McCarran Airport, and then they were off, winging their way through the night.
Mason, in his seat, took several deep breaths. His head felt like the outside of a tornado. It had been bad in Vegas, dreadful, but it had also been illuminating. His soul hurt, hurt for Basso. Mason hated that he hadn’t been able to help the man, to save him. He felt bad that he’d dragged Basso into this, but knew the SED would have got to him, anyway.
I should have done better.
You can’t save everyone. You should know that by now.
Mason wrestled with it as they flew over the Atlantic.
Roxy sat in the seat beside him, an array of miniature rums on her tray table. There was a packet of pretzels too, but she didn’t seem bothered about those. Two of the rums were empty, and Roxy was working on the third.
‘That helps,’ she said.
‘I wish this thing would go quicker,’ Mason said.
‘A long way to go,’ Roxy drew out the word ‘long’.
Sally, on the other side, suddenly leaned over. ‘I do too,’ she said. ‘Balancing the books of Quest Investigations is never easy, but we’re not getting paid for this.’
Mason blinked. He hadn’t even thought of that. It showed how insulated Sally kept them from the highs and woes of running a business, he thought. The flight attendant came around again just then and, in response to Roxy’s wistful gaze, deposited another rum on her tray table. Roxy winked at the man as he vanished down the aisle.
‘At this rate,’ she said, ‘I think I’m about thirty minutes away from joining the mile-high club.’
Mason ignored her, still troubled. The feeling of failure wouldn’t go away. Vegas had been frantic, sheer madness, but he felt he should have done better. After a moment, he stole one of Roxy’s rums, tipped it back and ignored her faux-angry gaze. He unbuckled his seat belt, rose and walked down the aisle to where Quaid and Hassell sat alongside Luciane.
‘What’s in Italy?’ he asked, bending down.
‘You know what’s in Italy,’ Quaid said with a tremble in his voice. ‘Anya.’
‘Is that wise?’ Mason didn’t look over at Luciane, but the question in his tone was obvious.
‘No,’ Quaid said. ‘Not at all. But she owns her own plane. It’ll put us ahead of the SED. We’ve used her before. We know she can get us close to where we need to go. It’s the fastest way from America to China, and she can get us in with little fuss.’
‘You sure about that?’
‘I’m not even sure she won’t break me in half. For all sorts of reasons. You know we have a bumpy past, but it’s worth the risk.’
Mason was happy with the fastest way from America to China. Luciane looked confused. ‘Who’s Anya?’ she asked.
Nobody answered.
Finally Hassell, who’d spent a week at her home in the Italian lakes, said, ‘Lovely lady. Owns her own business. Helped us out a few times. Carries a knife and an attitude. Not happy with Quaid because of their…chequered history.’
Luciane arched her eyebrows. ‘Well, actually, that makes two of us.’
Quaid buried his head in his hands.
Mason counted down the hours. Hassell’s thoughts soon turned inwards, reflective. Quaid tried not to strike up any kind of conversation. Maybe he was rehearsing his lines for when they met Anya. Sally slept with her laptop open on her knees, and Roxy brooded over her rums. Mason tried not to think about Vegas and Phoenix Basso and the man they still had to beat, Miura.
They landed at Leonardo da Vinci in Rome a few minutes ahead of schedule, deplaned and dashed through customs as fast as they were able. Quaid had asked Anya to meet them here. Now, following the directions on his messages, Quaid guided them through the airport to an area that dealt with private flights and private runways. They showed their passports and were allowed through, directed to a private lounge. As they closed in on their destination, Quaid got more and more nervous.
‘I’m not entirely sure this was a good idea,’ he said as they walked along the clinically polished hallways.
‘It’ll be fine,’ Roxy told him, a bit inebriated. ‘And if it isn’t – what the hell? We’ll be a man short.’
‘Thanks,’ Quaid said.
They slowed for a set of double glass doors, pushed through, and found themselves in the private lounge. It was round, with a dimly lit bar to the right and a fresh buffet to the left, and lots of tables in the middle. The temperature was a balmy 21 degrees, the atmosphere in the room airy and laid-back. Mason counted about four people seated in the whole place.
A suited doorman greeted them, checked their passports again. Clearly, Anya had already done something behind the scenes because they strolled through without question or challenge. Mason walked between tables as Roxy headed for the bar.
Before she got there, however, a figure approached, barring her way. The figure was lithe, blue-eyed and wearing denim cut-off jeans with an empty leather sheath dangling from her waistband. She had short blond hair, an inquisitive, suspicious gleam in her eyes and full red lips. A gold Rolex shone on her left wrist, twin diamond bracelets on her ankles. In her left hand was clasped a tumbler full of some amber liquid that Mason knew would be bourbon.
‘Anya,’ Roxy said with pleasure.
Mason made a beeline for her, holding out his hand. ‘Great to see you again.’
Anya shook their hands with a firm grip. Right then, Sally came up, holding her laptop in one hand. ‘Do you know what we need?’ she asked.
Anya nodded. ‘One-way trip to Dunhuang, right? Or as close as I can get.’ She pitched her American-accented voice low.
‘Can you do it?’ Sally asked.
‘I have a few strings I can pull.’
Mason didn’t need to know any more. Anya was wealthy, connected and liked from sea to shining sea. It was at that moment that Quaid came up, looking sheepish.
‘You do right to approach me that way.’ Anya glared at him. ‘In fact, you should be on your knees.’
‘Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
‘I haven’t heard from you in months, years before that. In fact, no disrespect to your team intended, but you only ever call me when you need something.’
Quaid spread his arms. ‘You’re a great connection.’ Then he winced.
‘Connection? Connection? Oh, well, that’s amazing. I’m a great connection. Well, all I’m saying is it’s a damn good job I didn’t wait for you.’
Quaid finally met her eyes. ‘Yeah, you told me about the pool boy, the car detailer and the window cleaner.’
‘Oh, that’s just for starters. In the last few months I’ve—’
Roxy was watching with interest, as was Mason, as Quaid chose that moment to step aside and introduce Luciane.
‘And this is Luciane,’ he said.
A tension seemed to crackle between the two women as they both realised exactly where they stood in Quaid’s life.
‘Hi,’ Luciane said shortly.
Anya made no move towards the other woman. ‘Charmed, I’m sure.’
‘Luciane is the main reason we’re here,’ Quaid went on, trying to smooth over a moment that was as rocky and jagged as an ocean bed.
‘You got no chance.’ Roxy laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
‘I’m flying you to China for her?’ Anya asked archly.
Quaid winced. ‘Well, it’s a long story. Why don’t we explain it to you on the way?’
Anya stared at him with no expression. ‘Actually, I’m looking forward to getting in the air,’ she said.
‘Why?’ Quaid asked tentatively.
‘So I can throw you out the goddamn door.’
Anya turned and stalked away. Mason avoided Quaid’s eyes and followed, soon joined by Roxy.
‘I’m really looking forward to the plane journey,’ she said.
Mason risked a glance back, saw Quaid walking with his head down, Luciane following with a stony look on her face. It was a short but tension-laced walk to Anya’s Cessna Turbo Stationair, which, Mason remembered, was a six-passenger plane. Lucky. At least that was one less thing to worry about.
They boarded, took their seats. Anya checked through the avionics. At first, nobody mentioned the large box sitting halfway up the aisle between seats; they were too busy getting settled. But then, typically, Roxy pointed it out and asked if they should do anything about it.
Quaid waited until the plane was in the air and had levelled off, then unbuckled his seat belt and set about opening the box. Inside, Mason saw, was a GPR – a Ground Penetrating Radar machine. He’d asked Anya to pick it up on the way.
‘We wheel it around the desert,’ he said. ‘And it tells us when there’s a big space underground. We can set the parameters. I used these things several times in the army when we were searching for items of material.’
‘A geophysical method,’ Sally said, looking the machine over. ‘It uses radar pulses to image the subsurface. Detects reflected signals from subsurface structures, like, say, a casino. Walls. Rooms. This is the perfect machine for detecting a void.’ She looked over at Quaid. ‘Great idea.’
‘Thanks,’ Anya drawled as she moved into the cabin, having switched the plane to its autopilot setting. ‘When the great fool here told me what you were doing, where you were going, this seemed like the best plan to me. Otherwise, you might as well just bring a bucket and spade.’
‘I kind of assumed Basso’s directions would be spot on,’ Sally said with a shrug. ‘But the GPR is perfect. Thank you.’
Anya inclined her head before turning the full force of her glare somewhere between Quaid and Luciane.
‘Explain,’ she breathed.
Quaid told her everything that had happened so far. At first, hearing about Luciane’s struggles, Anya’s face softened, but then it got harder as Quaid came to the end of his story. ‘And how long have you two been an item?’ she asked.
‘Don’t worry,’ Quaid assured her. ‘We go back to my earlier army days.’
Luciane glanced sideways at Anya. ‘Did he run out on you, too?’
Anya snorted. ‘Oh, with his tiny tail between his legs.’
‘Hey,’ Quaid objected.
Luciane laughed. Roxy, clearly listening with her head cocked towards the conversation, let out a chortle.
Mason tapped Quaid on the shoulder. ‘I’d leave it alone if I were you. At least they’ve found some kind of common ground.’
‘Yeah, but I’m not sure I like the common ground that they’ve found.’
Anya settled herself between Luciane and Roxy for a while, and the three chatted and laughed over the drone of the plane. Hours passed. Mason found prepacked sandwiches in a large fridge at the front of the plane and passed them around. One wasn’t enough. He opened bottled water and swigged that too, and then started on his second sandwich.
‘Where are we landing?’ Sally asked at one point.
‘Dunhuang Mogao,’ Anya told them. ‘That’s where you want to go, isn’t it?’
‘Perfect,’ Sally said. ‘But how the hell did you swing that?’
‘It’s always who you know,’ Anya said. ‘That’s everything. That’s life. The best lesson I have ever learned. I cultivated my contacts carefully, and can now land almost anywhere in the world with a cover story. This time, I’m bringing in my best friends as tourists.’
‘Luckily, your best friends already have visas,’ Mason said.
‘I knew that.’ Anya briskly returned to the cockpit and took over control of the plane. Soon after, she announced they were descending towards Dunhuang Mogao Airport.
Mason closed his eyes briefly, wondering what the last, irrevocable part of this mission had in store.
Chapter 45
They cleared customs through a private hall inside Dunhuang Mogao Airport. The border patrol officers barely glanced at their passports but hurried them through and, once their backpacks were scanned, had no further interest in them. The visas were still good, the passports all fine. A man wearing a uniform and white gloves investigated the box with the GPR and then waved them onward.
Anya left them in the hall, waving goodbye and ignoring Quaid until the very last moment. As he passed out of sight, she shouted, ‘Call me,’ and then turned and stalked back to her plane. Mason wasn’t sure what favours she’d called on to get them into the country, but he knew they’d be immense. He just hoped he’d be around if Anya ever needed a return favour.
