Treasure of Khan (Dirk Pitt 19)

"I don't like the looks of this. These people are warped. And let's not forget we were brought here at gunpoint."

"I agree," Theresa whispered. "The whole story about trying to protect us at Lake Baikal is ludicrous."

"As I recall, Tatiana threatened to blow my left ear off if I didn't leave the Vereshchagin with her," Wofford mused, tugging his earlobe. "Not the words of someone who cares about my well-being, I should think."

Theresa unfolded a topographical map of a mountain range and pointed out meaningless features to Wofford as she spoke.

"And what about Dr. Sarghov? He was taken captive with us by accident. I think they may have killed him."

"We don't know that, but it may be true," Roy said. "We have to assume the same outcome awaits us, after we have provided them the information they are looking for."

"It's all so crazy," Theresa said with a slight shake of her head. "But we've got to find a way out of here."

"The garage, next to the industrial building across the lawn. It was full of vehicles," Wofford said. "If we could steal a truck and drive out of here, I'm sure we could find our way to Ulaanbaatar."

"They've got us either locked in our rooms or under surveillance. We'll have to be prepared to make a break for it on short notice."

"Afraid I'm not up for any wind sprints or pole vaults," Wofford said, adjusting his injured leg. "You two will need to try without me."

"I've got an idea," Roy said, eyeing a desk across the room. Making a show of looking for a lost pen among the maps, he stood and walked to the desk, where he grabbed a pencil from a round leather holder. Turning his back to the video camera, he scooped out a silver metal letter opener that was mixed in with the pencils and slid it up his sleeve. Returning to the table, he pretended to write some notes while whispering to Theresa and Wofford.

"Tonight we'll check things out. I'll get Theresa and we'll reconnoiter the area and figure out an escape route. Then tomorrow night, we'll make our break. With the invalid in tow," he added, grinning at Wofford.

"I'd be much obliged," Wofford nodded. "Much obliged indeed."

-16-

ROY AWOKE PROMPTLY at two a.m. and dressed quickly. Removing the letter opener from its hiding place under his mattress, he groped his way across the darkened bedroom to the locked door. He felt along the doorframe, finding the raised edges of three metal hinges that protruded on the interior side. Sliding the letter opener into the top hinge, he carefully pried out a long metal pin that held the interlocking hinge together. Removing the pins from the other two hinges, he gently lifted the door and pulled it into the room laterally as the exterior dead bolt popped out of the opposite doorframe. Roy then crept into the hallway and pulled the door back against the frame, so that upon a casual glance it still appeared closed and locked. Finding the hallway empty, he tiptoed to Theresa's room next door. Unlocking the latch, he opened the door to find her sitting on the bed, waiting.

"You did it," she whispered, seeing his figure in the light from the hallway.

Roy flashed a thin smile, then nodded for her to follow. They crept into the corridor and moved slowly toward the main foyer. A row of low-wattage footlights provided muted lighting along the hallway, which by all sight and sound appeared completely deserted. Theresa's rubber-soled shoes began squeaking on the polished marble floor, so she stopped and removed them, continuing on in her stocking feet.

The foyer was brightly illuminated by a large crystal chandelier, which prompted Roy and Theresa to hug the walls and approach cautiously. Roy knelt down and scurried over to a narrow window, which fronted the main doorway. Peering outside, he turned to Theresa and shook his head. Despite the late hour, there was still a pair of guards stationed outside the front door. They would have to find another way out.

Standing in the foyer, they found themselves at the base of an inverted T. The guest rooms had been to the left and the occupant's private rooms were presumably to the right. So they crept instead down the wide main corridor that led to the study.

The house remained still but for an old grandfather clock ticking loudly in the hallway. They reached the study and kept moving, tiptoeing past the main dining hall and a pair of small conference rooms, all decorated with an impressive collection of Song and Jin dynasty antiques. Theresa scanned the ceilings searching for additional video camera monitors but saw nothing. A whispering sound played on her ears, and she instinctively clutched at Roy's arm until he winced in pain from her sharp fingernails. They both relaxed when they realized the sound was only the wind blowing outside.

The corridor ended in a large open sitting room with floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides. Though there was little to be seen at night, Theresa and Roy could still sense the dramatic view offered from the mountain perch, which overlooked the rolling steppes of the valley below. Near the entrance to the room, Roy spied a carpeted stairwell that ran to a lower level. He motioned toward the stairs and Theresa nodded, following him quietly. The thick carpet was a welcome relief to her feet, which were beginning to tire of the hard marble floor. As she reached a turn in the stairwell, she looked up to face a huge portrait of an ancient warrior. The man in the image sat tall on a horse wearing a fur-trimmed coat, orange sash, and the classic Mongol bowl helmet. He stared at her triumphantly through gold-black eyes. His mouth showed a wisp of a grin, exposing sharpened teeth that reminded her of Borjin. The intensity of the image made her shudder and she quickly turned her back on the painting and moved down the next set of steps.

The landing opened onto a single corridor, which ran away from the house a short distance. One side of the corridor was windowed, which looked out upon a large courtyard. Theresa and Roy peered out the nearest window, faintly observing a freestanding structure across the way.

"There must be a door to the courtyard along here," Roy whispered. "If we can get out here, we ought to be able to move around the end of the guest wing and sneak toward the garage."

"It's going to be a long way for Jim to hobble, but at least there don't seem to be any guards around here. Let's find that door."

They moved rapidly to the end of the corridor where they at last found an exit door. Theresa tested the unlocked door, half expecting an alarm to sound when the latch released, but all remained silent. Together they crept into the open courtyard, which was partially illuminated by a few scattered pathway lamps. Theresa slipped her shoes back on soon after her feet touched the cold ground. The night air was brisk, and she shivered as a chill breeze blew through her light clothes.

They followed a slate pathway that angled across the courtyard toward a stone structure at the rear of the property. It appeared to be a small chapel, though it was circular in shape with a domed roof. Its stone composition differed from the marble used in the main house, and it had a decidedly ancient look to it. As they drew close, Roy bypassed the tunneled entrance and followed its curved walls toward the rear.

"I think I saw a vehicle in back," he whispered to Theresa, who hung tight on his heels.

Reaching the back of the stone building, they found a covered bay enclosed by a low split-rail fence. Once a corral, the interior was crammed with a half dozen old horse-drawn wagons, their wooden beds stacked with shovels, picks, and empty crates. From beneath a canvas tarp poked the front wheel of a dust-covered motorcycle, while, in the back of the bay, Roy studied the car he had seen across the courtyard. It was a huge old antique, layered with decades of dust and sitting on at least two flat tires.

"Nothing here that's going to get us to Ulaanbaatar," Theresa remarked with disappointment.

Roy nodded. "The garage on the other side of the mansion will have to be our ticket." He froze suddenly as a shrill whine carried near on the breeze.