Locked together, they tumbled end over end. His vision became a blur of dark sky, steps, wooden railing, and flashing foliage. The impacts came one on top of the next, the wood gouging into his head, shoulders, and back. Tanner bit his tongue, tasted blood. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Then, suddenly, it was over.
He lay motionless for a few moments, then forced open his eyes. He was lying ten feet from the bottom of the stairs. Somewhere in the distance, a thousand miles away, he heard the swoosh-hiss of waves. Then, another sound: a gurgling.
A few feet away, Xiang lay on his side and stared up at him with bulging eyes. His upper arm hung across his chest while his lower one, pinned against the steps by his body, twitched spasmodically.
For a moment Tanner’s brain couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. Something was wrong … something about the way Xiang was lying. Then he saw it. Good God …
The violence of the fall had wrenched Xiang’s head nearly 180 degrees. His chin was resting on his shoulder blade. He coughed, a wet gurgle. Froth bubbled from his lips. His eyes, filled with a mixture of terror and confusion, darted around him, then returned to Tanner’s face.
Shot, Briggs thought. You’re shot, again …
He touched his chest, expecting to feel warm, wet blood. There was nothing. He probed his jacket until he found the bullet hole and, beneath it, a hard object. He reached into his pocket.
Hadin’s diary. The bullet had cut an oblique groove through the leather cover and half the pages before exiting the spine and punching out the side of his coat. Good ol’ Dashing Andy.
Beneath him, Xiang gurgled again. Wincing against the pain, Tanner scooted forward, dropped to the next step, then another until he was sitting beside him. Xiang’s lips curled into a snarl. He stared into Tanner’s eyes and tried to mouth something.
“What?” Briggs said.
Xiang tried again. This time Tanner caught it: Damn you …
Xiang hung on for several minutes, as each breath became more labored than the last. Tanner watched, unable to tear himself away as the life steadily slipped from Xiang. In the final seconds Xiang locked eyes with him, gave a final cough, twitched, and went still. His dead eyes gazed at the sky.
“Almost,” Tanner murmured. “But not quite.”
Tanner reached up, grabbed the railing, pulled himself upright, and began climbing.
Acknowledgments
To Jonathon, Christi, and the entire Lazear team. I’m a lucky man.
To my editor, Tom Colgan, and the folks at Penguin Putnam, thanks again for everything.
To Trent Fluegel, a fine friend indeed.
To Julie: I love sharing my life with you.
To Pam Ahearn of the The Ahearn Agency and Dan Conaway and the team at Writers House Literary Agency. I wouldn’t be here without you.
To the gang at Diversion Books. New partners, new horizons.
To Asha of Asha Hossein Design for her fantastic cover art. You’re a pro, Asha.
And finally, to Gus, who died a month before my first novel was published Thank you for choosing me as your friend. You stood by me every step of the way. I miss you.
More from Grant Blackwood
#1 New York Times bestselling author Grant Blackwood introduces Briggs Tanner in a trilogy that Clive Cussler raves is “Pure fun, pure adventure.”
One Man.
Covert agent Briggs Tanner doesn’t like coincidences. In his business, they always mean trouble. So when a man is professionally assassinated right in front of him, Tanner wants answers.
One Mission.
Who pulled the trigger and why? And what is the mystery behind the key the man clutched in his dying hand — the key that Tanner now possesses?
One War Without End.
His search will lead him on an international trail, city to city, from the depths of the Pacific Ocean to the bullet-ridden back alleys of Beirut, all the way to a deadly secret — buried since the end of World War II — that only Tanner can keep from falling into the wrong hands.
The final installment in the trilogy from the #1 New York Times bestselling author.
Dinaric Alps, Bosnian region of Austrian Hungarian Empire, 1918
After four Allied soldiers stumble across a biological weapon that could bring devastation to the world, they take a vow to keep it from falling into the wrong hands. Ever since, the deadly substance — code-named Kestrel — has been guarded by the descendants of those four brave men, each with the mission of keeping its existence a secret.
Chesapeake Bay, August 2003
The wife of former CIA director Jonathon Root has been kidnapped, and no one except Root himself knows who carried out the crime or why. His grandfather had been one of the soldiers responsible for stealing Kestrel, and now a group of Bosnian terrorists are trying to force Root to hand it over.
Enter agent Briggs Tanner. His mission: follow a trail through the Alps, to the heart of where it all began. At risk: Millions of lives lost, starting with his own.