“How did you make it back to the village?” Kinimaka wanted to know. Hayden and Dahl gave him the discreet look, but it was also clear Yorgi needed to vent.
“I wore their clothes,” he hissed in an achingly low voice. “Shirts. Jackets. Socks. I stayed warm and I left them all alone in the snow and ice and I made it to road.”
Hayden couldn’t imagine the heartache, the assumed guilt that should not be his.
“A car passed by, helped me. I gave them a story, returned to the village a few days later,” he took a deep breath, “and let them see the ghost of the sorrow that they wrought. Let them see and feel how deep his anger was. So yes, I murdered my parents in cold blood.”
A silence fell that should never be broken. Hayden knew the bodies of Yorgi’s brothers and sisters lay in the place they fell right now, forever frozen, never laid to rest.
“I turned thief.” Yorgi eased apart the heartbreaking resonance. “And later was caught. But never tried for murder. And here we are.”
The pilot’s voice came over the airwaves. “Thirty minutes to Chinese airspace, kids, and then it’s anyone’s guess.”
Hayden was pleased when Lauren called up the DC think tank at that point. A diversion was the only way forward.
“We’re close,” she said by way on introduction. “Anything new?”
“We’re working the four corners, the Horsemen’s birth date references, Mongolia, the Khagan and the Order themselves, which do you want first?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Ooh, ooh,” Alicia said excitedly, acting the part. “Let’s hear the birth date numbers thing. I just love figuring numbers out.”
“Cool. Good to hear it from a field grunt.” The voice went on happily, raising a few eyebrows around the cabin but blissfully unaware, “So, Hannibal was born in 247 BC, died around 183 BC. Genghis Kahn 1162, died 1227—”
“That’s a lot of numbers,” Alicia said.
“Problem is—” Dahl said. “You’ve run out of fingers and toes.”
“Not sure what that means,” the geek continued. “But these wacko cults do love their number games and codes. Bear it in mind.”
“So Hannibal was born 1400 years before Genghis,” Kenzie said. “We get it.”
“You’d be surprised at the number of shitbirds that don’t,” the geek said conversationally. “Anyway—”
“Hey, pal?” Drake interrupted quickly. “You ever been punched in the face?”
“Well, as a matter fact, yes. Yes, I have.”
Drake settled back. “Good,” he said. “Now you can carry the fuck on.”
“We sure can’t work with these figures yet since we don’t know the other Horsemen. Though, I’m guessing even you guys can figure out the fourth? No? No takers? Oh, well. Now, there sure is an awful lot of firepower heading for the Mongolian Republic at this point, folks. Seven, or is it six? Yeah, six teams of elite soldiers representing six countries chasing down the Horseman of Conquest. Am I right? Ooo-rah!”
Drake stared over at Hayden. “This guy’s the best spokesperson in DC?”
Hayden shrugged. “Well, at least he wears his emotions on his sleeve. Not hidden beneath the many folds of a deceitful cloak like most of Washington.”
“On to the Horseman of Conquest. Clearly the Order have their own agenda, so conquest could be anything from a kid’s toy to a video game… ha ha. World domination can come in many forms, am I right?”
“Just get on with the briefing,” Hayden said.
“Sure, sure. So let’s get straight to the Order, shall we? Though the Israelis were oddly reluctant to furnish us with any information on the Nazi war criminal cult they wiped out in Cuba, we found out what we needed to know. Once the dust settled, the Nazis clearly decided they were the ones hard done by, and came up with this elaborate idea to control the world. They created an Order, along with a crest of arms, secret codes, symbols and more. They worked out a plan — quite probably one they’d been working on for years under the Reich. They buried the four weapons and came up with this puzzle. Maybe they meant to make it more obscure, who knows? But Mossad took ’em out without a trace and a little too quickly, I think. The hidden bunker lay undiscovered for thirty years.”
“Fifteen minutes,” the pilot said laconically.
“And these weapons?” Hayden asked. “Where did they get them from?”
“Well, the Nazis were about as well connected as anyone is ever going to get. The big gun is an old design, updated for space and accuracy. They could absolutely get their hands on anything from the forties to the eighties. Money was never an impediment, but movement was. And trust. They wouldn’t trust a soul to do this for them. Probably took the little weasels years to hide all four weapons and a few dozen favors. Trust factors in also as one of the reasons they hid the weapons in the first place. Couldn’t keep them in Cuba now, could they?” The DC man burst into laughter, then somehow managed to sober.
Alicia rolled her eyes and grasped both hands together as if they might be around somebody’s scrawny neck.
“Anyhoo, you guys still with me? I realize time is short and you’re itchy to get into the muddy field and shoot something, but I do have a little more information. Just came in…”
A pause.
“Now that’s interesting.”
More silence.
“Care to share?” Hayden prodded the man, staring toward the solid side of the chopper as if she could see their landing point approaching.
“Well, I was gonna get into the four corners of the earth — or at least the way we see it — but I see we’re running out of time. Look, give me five, but whatever you do—” he paused “—do not land!”
The connection was severed abruptly. Hayden glared first at the floor and then around the chopper’s interior.
Drake held both hands up. “Don’t look at me. I’m innocent!”
Alicia laughed. “Yeah, me too.”
“Don’t land?” Dahl reiterated. “What on earth does that mean?”
Alicia cleared her throat as if to explain, but then the pilot’s voice barked over the speakers. “Two minutes, folks.”
Hayden turned to the old faithful for help. “Mano?”
“He’s an ass, but still on our side,” the big Hawaiian rumbled. “I’d say take him at his word.”
“Best decide quick,” Smyth put in. “We’re descending.”
Instantly, the comms blared into life. “What did I say? Do not land!”
Drake rose and keyed the chopper’s internal comms to life. “Back off, pal,” he said. “New intel on the way.”
“But we’re inside Chinese airspace. No telling how long before they spot us.”
“Do what you can but don’t land.”
“Hey bud, I was told this was going to be a quick in and out mission. No bullshit. You can be sure if we hang around for more than a few minutes we’re gonna have a couple-a J-20s up our ass.”
Alicia leaned in to Drake and whispered, “Is that a bad—”
The Yorkshireman cut her off, seeing the urgency of the situation. “Well, clearly the knobend from DC can hear us even when the comms are off,” he said with a meaningful stare at Dahl. “Ya hear that, knobend? We’ve got about sixty seconds.”
“This is gonna take longer,” the man came back. “Be brave, people. We’re on the case.”
Drake felt his fists clench. Such a condescending manner only provoked confrontation. Maybe that was the intent? Ever since they found Hannibal’s gravesite Drake felt that there had been something off about this mission. Something undisclosed. Were they being vetted? Were they under surveillance? Was the US government evaluating their actions? If so, it came down to what happened in Peru. And if so, Drake wasn’t unduly worried about their performance.