Chapter Eleven

Eve was packed and heading out to the vehicle when her phone rang. She glanced at caller ID.

“Hi, Peter.”

“Eve,” he said. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to contact Noah yet, but I have that information for you. Or some of it at least.”

Well, the Noah part was no surprise. If he was undercover, they wouldn’t want to jeopardize that for the sake of a conversation with his ex-wife. “Go ahead.”

“Zachary Martin is who and what he says he is. An operative with MI6 in London. Only thing is right now he’s on a leave of absence.”

“What?” That didn’t make sense. “Why?”

“I spoke to someone over there. Apparently his partner was injured in a suicide bombing three months ago and Zach didn’t take it well. Also, he’s been coming up with some pretty wild conspiracy theories, so they told him to go take time off. Clear his head. That was a week ago.”

Just after he’d first come to see her. “So he isn’t working for the government right now?”

“No. He’s officially on leave.”

Something else he hadn’t mentioned. Perhaps he was just taking a vacation in Mongolia. Pretending to be a journalist. Or was he working for someone else? Christ, maybe making up conspiracy theories was contagious. But why had he implied he was here on official business? Or had he? Perhaps she had just presumed.

“Eve?”

“Yes, sorry, I was just thinking. Thanks.”

“The other man you mentioned, John Chen. I haven’t found anything out of the ordinary—we have no files on him. He has no criminal record. He checks out as a translator working for The Mongolian Historic Society.”

“I’m not surprised. He’s a good man. I like him.” He saved my life.

“How are you doing out there?”

“Good. I should be heading home in a few days.”

“And you’ve been…okay?”

Peter knew about her problems. “I’m fine. It’s done me a world of good, being out here. I should have done this years ago.”

“I’m glad. Give my love to the children, and I’ll let Noah know you’ve been trying to reach him as soon as I get the chance.”

“Thanks, Peter.”

She shoved the phone into her pocket. Should she confront Zach with what she knew? Ask him what the hell he was playing at? But what was the chance of him telling her the truth? Was he just following up on his own or was there a more sinister explanation? Maybe he was working with the terrorists. But then why come to see her? None of it made any sense.

Their vehicle was parked out front, and she dumped her bag in the back and stood waiting for the others to arrive, tapping her foot, impatient to be off. They were heading to the Khentii Mountains. Unfortunately, the vehicle would only take them so far. They would need to make alternative arrangements for the last leg of the journey.

John appeared in the doorway, saw her, and headed over.

“Is it done?” she asked.

He nodded. “I’ve arranged for the guide to meet us as close to the Great Taboo as we can get by automobile. We’ll do the first part of the journey this evening. Camp out overnight and then continue tomorrow. We should be there by midday.”

“And we really have to go on horseback?”

“It’s pretty rugged where we’re heading. I could organize four-wheel drives or ATVs, but it would take longer. You prefer me to do that? Might take a few days.”

“No. I don’t want to wait.” She had a feeling time was running out.

“Do you ride horses?”

“I did. A long time ago.” Hopefully, it would be like riding a bicycle—you never forgot. And despite her griping, she was actually quite looking forward to it. Somehow it seemed right to ride across the land as Genghis Khan had all those years ago, under the same eternal blue sky.

“I’ll go pay the bill,” John said. “And we can be on our way.”

She leaned against the vehicle as she waited. Another clear day. Yuri came out the door and caught sight of her. He had a plaster across his forehead. She’d wanted him to go to the emergency room, but he’d said he didn’t need to see a doctor. John had patched him up using the medical kit in the car. The cut was apparently superficial. His hand was bruised not broken. He’d live.

John had spoken with the hotel staff, and they’d told him there was a gang in town that was notorious for similar attacks. Yuri hadn’t been convinced.

Now, he came to a halt in front of her. “I think we should take a step back,” he said.

“From what?”

He frowned as if she was being slow. “The expedition.”

“Why? We’re so close.”

“Something just feels off to me. Your mishap on the way from the airport. Someone jumping me last night. I have a bad feeling. We’re hurrying this thing. Why not go back to Ulaanbaatar, reassess the situation? Get some security, someone we trust.”

She considered what he was saying, and she could see his point, except it wasn’t going to happen. If they went back to Ulaanbaatar, it could take days, maybe longer, to get security sorted. And she didn’t have days to spare. Her week was nearly up. If she failed, she would lose not only the Spirit Banner but her chance to find the burial site itself. That would go to someone else.

And truth? She needed this so badly, she could taste it.

“Yuri, you don’t need to come with us. Go back, if you’d rather. I know last night shook you up.”

Anger flashed across his face. “You’re being obtuse. It’s you I’m worried about. I know what you’ve been through in the past.”

Her own anger rose. “Let me worry about my past. I’m going. You can come with us or you can head for home.”

They were saved from arguing further by the arrival of the others, and she heaved a sigh. No more flings with men at work.

This time, Yuri sat in the front with John, and she sat behind with Zach.

“Lover boy giving you a hard time?” Zach asked in a low voice.

She just snorted, folded her hands across her chest, and stared out the window.

John rode as if he was born to do it, a part of the horse. Tarkhan, despite his eighty years, was almost as good. Yuri was competent. Zach had clearly never been on a horse in his life. But so far he’d managed to stay on. The horses were small and muscular; at least Zach wouldn’t have far to fall. Hers was a dark bay with a cropped black mane. The guide, a wiry little man John had introduced as Gansukh, had told Eve her name, but it was unpronounceable.

She felt at peace. As though she was in the right place. And this was meant to be. Fate.

Late afternoon and the air held a crisp bite. Luckily, they’d stopped at a clothing store on the way through town and bought boots, warm coats, and hats—apparently even in May the nights in the mountains could be freezing. And sleeping bags, as they planned to camp out that night.

The horses made good progress. These were some of the oldest mountains on the planet; they had eroded over the years to smooth, rolling forms and the going was easy. They trotted up a gentle rise, and Eve came to the top and looked out over the mountains. It was a land of blues and greens. Vast and empty but for an eagle hanging in the sky above them. They could be the only people on the planet.

Far ahead, she saw Bhurkhan Khaldoon rising up. When he was only a young man, Genghis Khan had said he wanted to be buried on the sacred mountain. And during his lifetime, in times of uncertainty or trouble, he’d climbed the mountain to pray to the Eternal Blue Sky for guidance.

Below them, a wide river wound through the land. They rode alongside the water until they found a shallow place to cross, and the horses splashed through and lurched up the opposite bank then broke into a canter.

Her ass was aching by the time the guide called for them to halt. But they were much closer to the high mountains now. Tomorrow they would reach their destination and she would find out if her research had paid off. They set up camp in the lee of a rocky outcrop, hobbling the horses’ front legs so they wouldn’t wander while they grazed on the sparse grass.

This scene probably hadn’t changed significantly in the eight hundred years since Genghis Khan had ridden these mountains.

As the sun went down, the temperature dropped dramatically, and Eve shoved her hands in her pockets and let the peace soak into her soul as she let go of the last of her fear, at least for this day.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Zach said as he stood beside her. He held a bottle of scotch, and he handed it to her almost as a peace offering. She took a swig and warmth radiated out from her stomach.

“Are you glad you came?” she asked.

“I don’t think I’m any nearer catching my terrorist, but yes, I’m glad I came. It’s cleared my mind. I hadn’t realized how screwed up I was.”

“Me neither. Though that’s not true. I knew my head was a mess. I just didn’t know how I could change things.” She turned to study him in the dim light. “So I hear you’re currently on leave from MI6 and not here in any official capacity. Don’t you think you should have mentioned that?”

“Who told you?”

“I have my sources.”

He snorted. “Your ex-husband, I presume?”

“His uncle, actually. Noah hasn’t been around. He told me they think you’re seeing conspiracy theories where they don’t exist. Are they right about that?” She really hoped so.

He shrugged. “That my conspiracy theory isn’t real? No, they’re not right. It’s fucking real. I believe there is a group coordinating terrorist attacks and I believe it’s entrenched in every facet of our society. Including MI6.”

She blew out her breath. Not the answer she’d been hoping for. “So what’s next?”

“You find this magical spear and we follow it. Whoever wants it is right in the middle of all this. You’re my only lead, Eve, don’t let me down.”

“Super.” Around them, night had fallen, and the stars came out above them. The smell of smoke and food cooking drifted over the night air, and her stomach rumbled. “Tomorrow, we’ll find the spear. Now, it’s time for dinner.”