Gunfire continued behind him, but it was quickly sputtering away as the arriving forces overwhelmed the remaining North Koreans.

Reaching the cavern in seconds, he spotted Jada perched halfway up the ice wall, decidedly struggling. Vigor crouched in the tunnel above her, trying his best to pull her up, but the monsignor was plainly too weak.

As Duncan ran toward them, he noted the trail of blood leading from the breathing hole to the cliff. More icy blood trailed down the frozen waterfall, adding streaks of crimson to the blue.

“Hang on!” Duncan yelled.

“What do you think I’m trying to do!” she called back, both angry and relieved.

Duncan ran to the free line. “Hold tight. I’m going to haul you up.”

He pulled hard, drawing the rope through the eyehole in the roof and towing Jada’s body up to the tunnel. Once there, Vigor helped her clamber inside. Both looked clearly spent.

As Jada unclipped her harness, Duncan called up to them. “Keep going! I’m right behind you.”

Jada waved her acknowledgment, having no breath left to speak.

The pair vanished as he mounted the line and scrambled up.

9:54 A.M.

Free at last, Seichan spun away from the guard who had held her. She heard Gray shout to Duncan and paused only long enough to grab Ryung’s abandoned weapon, the same pistol he had used to shoot Rachel.

She stepped over his impaled body and went after the only target that mattered.

Pak fled across the ice at the first sign of trouble, running for cover behind the half-submerged bus. He had a pistol in hand and shot blindly behind him, panicked by the chaos and the sudden turn of fortune. But as a gambler, he should have known that luck always runs out.

She stalked deliberately after him.

He spotted her, swung his weapon at her, and fired.

She didn’t even bother dodging.

Instead, she lifted her arm and squeezed the trigger.

She placed the round through his knee. He fell headlong with a scream, sliding on his belly, spinning. Reaching the broken ice around the blasted bus, he flew out over the open water and plunged into its depths.

She crossed to the edge and watched him come sputtering up from the cold. Compromised by his wrecked knee, she knew every kick that kept him afloat must be agony.

He struggled over to the edge, seeking a handhold, found one where a corner of the bus met the ice. Unfortunately, the bulk of the bus shifted slightly, settling further as its mass compressed the surrounding ice. The movement pinned his fingers in that crack. He cried out, struggling to free his four crushed fingers.

Seichan’s mother had already taken the fifth one to repay a gambling debt. Pak owed Seichan much more.

“Help me!” Pak said, teeth chattering.

Seichan bent down, seeing hope flare in Pak’s eyes.

Instead, she picked up the cigarette that had fallen from his lips as he spun into the water. She straightened and blew the tip to a glowing red.

Horror replaced hope. Like her, he must smell the leaked gasoline and oil, forming a thick layer on the water.

“Cold, isn’t it?” she said. “Let me warm you up.”

She flicked the bud below. A rain of fiery ash ignited the fumes first, then the pool of oil and gasoline. Flames chased across the blue water, reaching and swamping over Pak.

She turned from his screaming and headed back, leaving him to burn above and freeze below.

That’s for Rachel.

32

November 20, 9:55 A.M. IRKST

Olkhon Island, Russia

Ju-long lay on the ice, his blood spreading in a warm pool under him. He had heard Pak begging for his life as the gunfire died down—followed by his screaming. He felt no pity for the man.

The bastard deserved a cruel end.

And maybe I do, too.

As if summoned by this thought, a face loomed into view, staring down at him, merciless despite her chosen name.

“Guan-yin,” he mumbled. He lifted a hand toward her, but with a tremble, he dropped it, too weak. “Pak has my wife . . . my unborn son.”

Her face remained impassive, as hard as the scales on her dragon, not accepting his excuse.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, tasting blood on his lips. “I . . . I love them so much . . . please help them.”

“Why should I help you? After what you’ve done?”

“I tried . . . how I could . . . to help.”

A single line creased her brow.

“How did you think you found us?” he said, gasping around a twinge of pain. “Tracked Pak and me to this island?”

“Like you, I have ears everywhere. I heard you left North Korea for Mongolia. So I followed, trailed you. I knew you must still be going after—”

He cut her off. “Who do you think spoke to those many ears of yours? I told them to speak to you.”

It was the truth. Ju-long had to be discreet while with Pak. Using the excuse of monitoring the assassin’s tracker, he was able to regularly call Macau and manipulate matters from afar. While he could not raise his own army in Macau without alerting the North Koreans and risking his pregnant wife’s life, he attempted to raise another, to stoke the hatred of Guan-yin to come to his aid.

He remembered the surprise of the sword piercing his chest.

Apparently he had stoked that hatred too well.

A small miscalculation.

“I drew you here to kill Pak, possibly to free me,” he said with a small laugh full of blood. “To perhaps mend our fences in the end.”

Now all that matters is my beautiful Natalia . . . and the son I will never see . . .

Guan-yin leaned back. He saw she believed him. Still, was that enough for her to help? She was not known for the quality of her mercy.

“I will find them,” she finally promised. “I will free them.”

A single tear of relief rolled down his cheek. He knew she would not fail him.

Thank you.

With this burden lifted from him, he allowed his eyes to close—but before they did, another face appeared next to Guan-yin, the pretty assassin who had caused so much trouble.

Only then did he see the resemblance.

One next to the other.

Mother and daughter.

He now understood the cause of his small miscalculation. In the end, it had never been about money or turf—only family.

No wonder you stabbed me.

Finally recognizing the error of his ways, his own silent laughter followed him into oblivion.

9:56 A.M.

“So that’s how you knew how to find us,” Gray said, standing behind Seichan and her mother, eavesdropping on the conversation.

He carried a pistol and guarded over them, as Monk and Kowalski helped the rest of the Triad mop up the situation on the ice.

Tags: James Rollins Sigma Force Thriller
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