Epilogue

Five days had passed since she’d been shot. For the second time in her life. They were letting her out of hospital tomorrow, and she had booked a flight to the UK. She’d been talking to her children via Skype every day. She couldn’t wait to get home.

Except part of her didn’t want to leave. Part of her wanted to continue her search. To find the tomb.

But it wasn’t safe. Would they come after her again?

Zach had organized a security detail for her at the hospital. Men he trusted. She didn’t think there were many of those around. That was just before MI6 had pulled some strings and gotten him out of the country, seconds in advance of the local police arresting him as a murder suspect. They weren’t happy. There were a few dead bodies to explain.

Apparently, she was still his only lead. He’d promised—or maybe threatened—to visit as soon as things settled down. Or as soon as he was allowed. He had a lot of explaining to do.

Maybe his bosses were listening to him now. Or maybe not.

The nurse appeared in the doorway. “Dr. Blakeley, you have a visitor. Mr. Tuul.”

Her book dropped from her fingers.

How had he gotten through security? And then he was there, walking into the room, familiar and civilized in his dark gray suit. “You look well,” he said, stopping by the bed.

She swallowed, then glanced past him, half expecting to see some sort of assassin in tow. John, perhaps, come to finish the job.

“I’m alone, and I’m not here to do you any harm, Dr. Blakeley. On the contrary, my employers are pleased with you. Very pleased.”

“So pleased that John Chen tried to kill me.”

“He was overzealous. And that was before we had evaluated all the facts.”

Like the fact that she knew where the spear had been pointing and they didn’t. “And you aren’t going to torture me to find out what I know?”

“We’re civilized people. We’d prefer to work with you. If that’s possible.”

And if not? Perhaps she was better off not asking. Did she believe him? She wasn’t sure. If Zach was right, then Mr. Tuul was part of a terrorist organization who had committed countless atrocities. “What do you want, Mr. Tuul?”

“We had a deal. You find the Spirit Banner and we provide you with information to help you find the tomb. And the funding, of course. Whatever you need.”

“You really expect me to trust you now?”

“Perhaps not. But you must know that the only way you and your family will be safe is if this job is finished.”

She went still. “My family?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo, laid it gently on her lap.

Her hands clenched and unclenched as she stared at the image. The photo showed Harper, Lucy, and Daniel. They were playing some sort of ball game on the lawn outside her parents’ house. She touched a finger to Harper’s face. They looked happy and carefree. She wanted to scream and leap at Mr. Tuul, tear the mask of civilization from his face, rend him limb from fucking limb.

Instead, she gritted her teeth until she had herself under control. “What do you want?”

“Find the tomb and this”—he waved a hand at the photo— “unpleasantness will be unnecessary.”

Why was that? Because they would have succeeded in taking over the world? Crazy. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t go back. She’d made this mess, now it was down to her to sort it out.

Mr. Tuul must have seen the acceptance in her eyes, because he reached into his pocket and this time, took out an envelope, handed it to her. She opened it, drew out the single piece of paper. It contained a drawing and a line of writing. She stared for a moment.

She knew where to look, and now, she knew what she was looking for.

How could she refuse?

…

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