In Cobb’s mind, it was a major misstep on Papineau’s part.
Thankfully, the team took the announcement in stride. Maggie had already won over McNutt with her cooking skills, and Garcia was still so embarrassed about the maid comment that he would do anything to make up for it. Even Sarah, who had been slow to warm to Jasmine’s charms but had eventually taken her death the hardest, seemed willing to give Maggie a chance.
All in all, the group’s reaction was much better than Cobb had expected.
6
After the brief introduction, Papineau moved the conversation from the dining room to a more appropriate location. The upstairs portion of the house was fine for everyday conversations, but it didn’t cultivate the sense of focus he demanded when the topic turned to team objectives. So he led them to an underground room that had been specifically designed to host such discussions.
The group took the back stairs past the entrance to the indoor swimming pool, which seemed like overkill since there were two pools and an ocean outside, before they descended an additional level to the ‘war room’ in the sub-basement of the compound. The thick door that guarded the space was identical to the one that protected the White House Situation Room. When properly sealed, it would keep out water, toxins, and McNutt when he had too much to drink.
The interior of the room was also modeled after the president’s command center, but this one was slightly more luxurious. Climate-controlled to museum standards, the lavish room was decorated with fine art and thick tapestries. Despite these regal trappings, the space had a decidedly serene feel. Recent additions included a variety of low-light houseplants, an ionizer, and lighting that mimicked the outside sun.
A railing separated the room into two different meeting areas: a casual section with leather couches and plush easy chairs, and a formal space with a state-of-the-art computer table.
Papineau surprised everyone by heading to the casual side of the subterranean lair. This was a markedly different approach than for their previous missions when he had been nothing but business during their initial briefings. He encouraged everyone to find a seat while he stood with his back against the far wall like a professor waiting for his students to arrive.
Instinctively, Maggie chose one of the armchairs by herself.
The decision was not lost on Cobb, who sat on a couch next to Sarah.
Maggie doesn’t feel like she’s part of the team yet, Cobb thought. Papi might have hired her, but she knows she still needs to prove herself.
Cobb decided to speed the process along.
‘Jean-Marc, why don’t we jump right into Maggie’s qualifications?’ Cobb said it like a challenge, but he knew that a quick review of her résumé would do wonders for the team’s confidence. After all, Papineau wouldn’t have hired her if she wasn’t the best of the best.
Papineau nodded, understanding the request for what it was. He had seen Cobb efficiently slice through group dynamics and tension on more than one occasion. ‘Sarah, Jack, Hector, Josh — this is Miss Maggie Liu. She’s worked in China as an elite tour guide for nearly two decades, which is a much greater undertaking than it may seem. More than handing out maps and reciting trivia, her position demanded an encyclopedic knowledge of anything and everything about the region. She has an extensive knowledge of Chinese and Asian history, speaks a dozen languages fluently, and has an academic knowledge of two dozen more lingua francas.’
McNutt whispered to Sarah. ‘What the hell are “lingua francas?”’
‘I think it’s French linguine,’ she whispered back.
‘Sweet! I’m eating that for lunch.’
Garcia ignored their whispering while tapping away on his ever-present laptop. ‘Miss Liu is also accomplished at wing chun, one of the more mysterious Chinese martial arts.’ He looked up from his screen and smiled a sheepish grin. ‘My apologies for earlier, Miss Liu.’
Maggie nodded at him. All was forgiven. ‘While Chinese names are traditionally surname first, many of us choose Western names for ourselves because we prefer them — so please call me Maggie. In addition to competitive-level wing chun, I’ve also studied tai chi and kung fu since I was a small girl. That came in handy when dealing with some of my free-spirited clients. I needed to protect them when we went into dangerous areas along our way.’
She sat erect in her chair, her posture perfect.
‘Why did you take them to sketchy areas?’ Cobb wondered.
‘My job was to lead them where they wanted to go, no questions asked. For many people, the adventure does not begin until after you’ve left the beaten trail.’
Cobb knew from experience that she was right.
He was one of those people.
‘So who did you work for?’
‘I can’t mention any names, but you would be impressed with my client list.’
‘Billionaires?’ Garcia asked.
‘Definitely.’
‘Royalty?’ Sarah asked.
‘Undoubtedly.’
‘Rock stars?’ McNutt asked.
‘Unfortunately.’
‘In any case,’ Papineau said, ‘Maggie is talented both academically and physically. She has book smarts and street smarts, plus a wide swath of experience in unusual situations, which I’m confident will work to your advantage on this mission.’
‘Which is where?’ Cobb wondered.
Papineau glanced at him. ‘I honestly do not know.’
‘But Asia is a good guess, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘What are we looking for?’
‘That,’ the Frenchman said, ‘is also a mystery.’
Cobb scowled. He was about to lay into Papineau when Maggie spoke up first.
‘There’s only one thing it could be,’ she said.
Papineau’s mouth hung open in surprise.
So did Cobb’s.
‘Don’t worry, Jack. You didn’t miss anything. I’m the other variable in this equation,’ she assured him. ‘Based on my range of expertise and my knowledge of Chinese history, I feel there is only one treasure that might fit the bill. Jean-Marc is speaking of the merchant.’
‘What merchant?’ Cobb asked.
Papineau smiled at Maggie. ‘Please continue.’
She was happy to oblige. ‘He was just a youngster when his adventure began in 1271 AD. He traveled with his father and his uncle across the whole of Asia, to Dadu, which is present-day Beijing. But rather than just sightseeing or seeking their own fortunes, the boy’s family was on a mission of utmost importance. You see, on a previous journey they had met Kublai Khan, the grandson of Genghis Khan, and had been welcomed to his court. While there, he had tasked them with bringing a special item back from the Vatican.’
‘What was it?’ McNutt wondered.
‘Oil.’
‘Couldn’t they get that from Kazakhstan in those days?’
‘Not that kind of oil,’ she said kindly. ‘He wanted special oil from a lamp in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, which was rumored to be the resting place of Jesus Christ. In addition, the Khan also wanted the brothers to return with a hundred Christian scholars from the Vatican who could bring the teachings of the Bible to China.’
Garcia continued to type on his laptop. ‘According to these figures, that didn’t turn out well. Christians comprise only around three percent of the populace.’
‘It’s actually closer to four percent, but that is today. Would it surprise all of you to know that, at one time, nearly half of China was a Christian kingdom?’
‘Really? When?’ Sarah asked.
‘America was busy with its Civil War when interest in Christianity peaked in my homeland.’ She turned her attention back to Garcia. ‘China has had a long, complicated history with Christianity — the citizens are both fascinated by it and repelled by it in equal measure.’