THE HUNT FOR XANADU
By Elyse Salpeter
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. While certain places are real, the incidences regarding them are works of the author.
Copyright © 2013
Amazon Edition
Published by Elyse Salpeter
Cover created by LLPix Photography
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in print or electronic version without permission from the author.
This ebook is licensed to the original purchaser only. It cannot be sold, transferred, shared, or given away.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to those in the social media and indie world who have been an incredible source of inspiration for me. I want to thank the members of WLC, #artknb, Team P, along with all my Facebook and Twitter friends. They’ve been an incredible resource, a shoulder to cry on, and simply, great friends.
I also want to thank my editor, Denise Vitola, who always helps me make my novels the best they can be. Frank Tuttle, for his physics knowledge and for overall being a great support and friend, Andrew Meyer for talking to me at length about Tibet and government, and Dean Mead for allowing me to pepper him with questions on Buddhism. I apologize to all of you in advance because I know all the great information I received I twisted around to suit the needs of the book, but your help was invaluable and I appreciate all of you so very much.
The Hunt for Xanadu
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Other Books by Elyse Salpeter
Bonus Chapter: The Quest of the Empty Tomb
THE HUNT FOR XANADU
By Elyse Salpeter
Prologue
Impermanent are all created things; Strive on with awareness. – Siddhartha Gautama
India, 537 BC
From her perch atop the hill, Tanha watched the lone, starving man meditate under the Bodhi tree. How many men had attempted to go against her father and failed? More than she could count.
She turned to her sisters. The strand of exquisite black and pink pearls woven in her hair dazzled radiantly in the sunlight. “It’s time to meet the rich, coddled fool. They say he was quite breathtaking once.”
“He might have been once, but he’s not much to look at now,” Raga said. She crinkled her nose in distaste and her teardrop-shaped ruby bindi nearly disappeared into the folds of her brow.
Her sister, Arati, huffed and tossed back her black mane. “If that peasant girl hadn’t fed him, he’d be dead by now. I have better things to do than Father’s silly little errands.”
Tanha ignored the banter of her sisters and studied Siddhartha. Before her was a man who wanted nothing more than for human suffering to end. Was that so bad?
She frowned as that strange thought tickled her brain. She wanted to let the idea linger awhile longer, but she was distracted by what was to come. It was what she had been born to do. “Come, sisters. It’s time to destroy yet another man’s soul.”
As they glided down to Siddhartha, their exotic scents permeated the air. He stirred and his chest expanded with a deep, barely controlled breath. Raga alighted next to him and traced her long, painted red fingernails up and down his arm. He flinched at her sensual touch, but kept his eyes closed and continued to meditate.
“Losing your touch, sister?” Arati teased. She stepped before Siddhartha and removed her clothing piece by piece, until her exquisite body was on display. Then, she began to sing, a seductive tune so hauntingly beautiful the man had no choice but to respond. He opened his eyes wide and watched her dancing provocatively in time to her alluring melody. His eyes misted, but then he swallowed hard and shook his head. With extreme effort, he closed his eyes and pulled his desires back under control.
Surprised at his resistance, both girls turned to Tanha.
With a knowing grin, Tanha brazenly straddled his lap. She leaned towards him and unable to stop himself, his breath quickened. She let her long black hair flow around her body and envelop them both. “Siddhartha, don’t fight me,” she purred. “Leave this silly quest and I’ll grant you with carnal pleasures beyond imagination. I am Tanha, Daughter of Desire, and can fulfill your every wish.” She ran her lips up and down his jawline.
Siddhartha moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, but his hands found her hips and held her there.
“That’s right. Don’t resist me. You can’t. No man can.” Tanha placed her mouth on his. His body responded and he returned her kiss. Then to her astonishment, he pulled back.
“You test me terribly, temptress, but I will not be swayed. I must not yield to you.” He stared at her longingly and Tanha leaned towards him again.
Siddhartha shook his head. “No, I won’t let you do this to me. To humanity. You and your sisters should return to Mara where you belong.” His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, his expression suddenly curious. “Unless that is, you wish to join me?”
Tanha’s eyes widened in bewilderment. “Join you? Why would I do that?”
Siddhartha stared at her and then smiled sadly. “Then you must leave, mistress. There is nothing for you here right now.” With that, he closed his eyes and ignored her, falling deep into a trance.
Stunned, Tanha stared at the man who had the will to go against her. Was that even possible? A strange, uneasy feeling crept into her gut. “This is not over. I will be back,” she whispered, and with a puff, she and her sisters vanished, to let her father fight his own battles.
As Tanha watched from her decadent palace in the depths of the hell realm, no matter what Mara sent, be it demons, monsters or torrential storms, Siddhartha could not be swayed. To her utter amazement she watched his mind grow clear. He reached the state of perfect enlightenment and became a Buddha.
Finally, she could put a word to how she felt about it.
Envy.
Chapter 1
Present Day
Hidden in the security camera’s blind spot, she sucked in her gut, closed her eyes and listened intently. “Come on, already,” she thought, drumming her fingertips rapidly against the brick wall. She heard the dogs panting now. This sound had replaced the earlier frenzy of them tearing into the drugged, raw hamburger she had thrown over the fence just twenty minutes before. She’d crushed thirty-six Acepromozin tablets into the ground meat, reckoning it would be enough to knock out the four guard dogs, if not kill them outright.
She glanced at her watch and waited. This is taking so long. Five more minutes passed, with nothing sounding except the soft, rotating click of the camera. Abruptly, she yanked down the protective goggles resting on her head and placed them over her eyes. The clicking now echoed loudly, indicating the camera was once more faced in her direction. Brazenly she stood, aimed her laser gun and pointed it directly into the lens. The high tech, silicon-based CCD camera had an impressive wa
velength sensitivity. The laser's high-powered emitter instantly saturated the pixels of the camera's CCD sensor and burned the chip out instantly.
Ricardo Perez thought he protected himself with the best of everything. He’d under-estimated meeting an assassin so invested in seeing him dead.
Hooking the laser into her belt loop, she flung her knapsack over her shoulders and scaled the wall in a practiced leap. She balanced delicately on the edge to prevent being punctured by the barbed wire and slipped on a pair of leather gloves, grabbed the wire cutters hanging from her backpack and snipped her way through. In less than twenty seconds, she was inside the backyard of the compound. Three of the dogs lay unconscious in the grass nearby, but their twitching feet told her they were still alive. Where is the other one?
A deep, menacing growl came from behind her and she whirled to face the remaining Doberman. She had just enough time to register the bits of bloody hamburger still clinging to its snout before it lunged. Her instincts kicked in and she did the only thing she could remember. She punched the animal savagely in its throat like she’d been taught, and it fell to the ground, dead.
Breathing hard, she turned back to the house where Ricardo had hoped to escape from her. Her body shook and she took a deep breath, trying to keep her anger in check. This man couldn’t expect to destroy her family and get away with it. He was going to pay.
She moved past the koi pond, stopping only to disable the second security camera with her laser.
She passed the kidney-shaped pool and skirted around the cabana, her eyes never leaving the house. Shadows moved behind the curtained windows on the second floor. At the sound of a sliding door opening, she dove behind a hedge. A well-muscled guard moved onto the balcony and lit a cigarillo. Its smell traveled to her in the gentle breeze. She held back a cough and brushed a wayward blond strand out of her face.
The guard scanned the perimeters, then took out his cell phone and sat back on a lounge chair to make a call. Sweet nothings floated down to her and she took that moment to leap across the hedge and race to the side of the house, hiding herself in the back door portico. She edged around the building until she located the final camera attached to the roof above a spare bedroom. Too far for her laser’s range.
She waited until the camera scanned another part of the property and then got to work. She pulled out a long rope from her backpack which she attached to a grappling hook. With a precision borne from hours upon hours of practice, she tossed up the hook and snagged the end over the bedroom’s balcony railing. With a jerk, the rope pulled taut and the hook locked in place. Fifteen seconds later she was standing on the terrace.
The clicking camera indicated it was again in range. She leaned around the corner of the wall, aimed her laser and disabled it.
She left her bag and goggles on the terrace and moved to the sliding door leading into the bedroom. It was locked, which wasn’t a surprise. The girl leaned her head against the glass, her breath fogging the window, and noticed there was no security bar holding it shut. That was a mistake, Ricardo. She removed a set of lock picks from her pack and sixty seconds later broke in.
The house was quiet. With infinite care, she made her way across the room to the bedroom door. She cracked it open, pulling her pistol and stun gun from their holsters. She already knew the layout of the house from her research. There were four bedrooms and two bathrooms on the second floor with a wide hallway opening over the front foyer downstairs. The plush, cream-colored wall-to-wall carpeting, that stretched through every room, was an added benefit. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about her footsteps making any noise. The lighting was good, too. An enormous, glittering chandelier hung from the foyer ceiling and lit the entire area with a yellow glow. She peered into Ricardo’s bedroom and heard him speak to one of his guards. The sound of his voice made goosebumps on her arms.
“Pablo, go get us a couple of beers.”
The guard came out of the bedroom and as he passed her room, she jumped on him and released the stun gun. He barely had time to cry out before she hit him violently in the side of his head with the butt of her gun, silencing him. He fell unconscious to the floor. With great effort, she dragged him by his feet into the bedroom. Thankfully, he wasn’t as large as the first guard she had seen or it would have been much harder. In less than a minute, he was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.
She moved quickly down the hall towards Ricardo’s room, her pistol in one hand, the stun gun in the other. She peeked inside. Ricardo had moved to the balcony.
What happened next came down fast.
“The dogs are too quiet,” the remaining bodyguard said. A whistle sounded and when none of the Dobermans responded, she could distinctly hear him click his gun’s safety. “The cameras are dark, too. Ricardo, stay here.”
The guard moved across the room and out into the hallway, shocked to see her simply standing there. With a startled shout, he fired at her, but she feinted to the right and fired back. Her heel slipped slightly on the carpet and messed up her aim. She hit him in his hip, rather than his chest. Dammit to hell.
The guard fell to the floor with a yell, but fired again, the bullet ricocheting off the wall behind her. She took that moment to pounce upon him, kneeing him fiercely in his groin. He tried to hit her with the butt of his gun and she delivered a brutal elbow strike to his cheek, shattering it. He shrieked, bringing his gun up again. She shoved the stun gun in his side and fired the full voltage.
A bullet whisked by her head, shattering the picture frame on the wall next to her. She flinched and glimpsed Ricardo shooting wildly from behind the door. Their gazes met and fear filled his eyes. With a squeal, he ran back into his bedroom and disappeared from view.
Her adrenaline pumped through her veins and his fear spurred her on. Run and hide, you coward. With a savage smile, she raced after him.
The hunt was on.
Chapter 2
STALKED
The West Village Starbucks was crowded that February morning, filled with professors and students from NYU grabbing their caffeine fixes before heading to class. Her backpack loaded with textbooks, Kelsey Porter weaved her way delicately through the swarm. Wearing dark blue jeans, black calf-high leather boots and a black leather jacket, she blended in like any other New Yorker in the coffee shop. Well, mostly she did.
She knew she was attractive. Beautiful, actually. She had high cheekbones and a heart shaped face and her skin was like porcelain. But it was her deep blue eyes she thought were her best feature. Her parents used to tell her she looked just like a fairy tale princess. Her dad actually called her Princess Kel Kel to make her giggle. She didn’t feel much like a naïve little princess these days and wondered briefly what he’d think of her multiple ear piercings, blood red lips, black nail polish and a tattoo of an Egyptian Ankh above her left ankle. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t have liked any of it.
She paid for her latte and couldn’t help smirking at the shy counter clerk who could barely look her in the eye. Oh, how she loved playing with him. She leaned towards him, her jacket opening and her cleavage peeking from her V-neck T-shirt. “Hey, Jessie, you’re looking super cute today. Is that some new flair on your hat?” The guy turned tomato red and mumbled something unintelligible. Oh, why do I love torturing this guy so much?
She considered pushing him further, but decided to give him a break. “See you tomorrow, Beautiful.” She dropped a dollar into his tip jar as payment for her obnoxious flirting. As she made her way out of the shop, she turned back and took a mental note of the layout.
It was a game she played each morning. She’d select a location and then later, during breaks between classes, she’d recreate the scene on paper. It was her own mental exercise to keep her mind sharp.
That afternoon, between Arson Investigations and Human Behavior, both courses needed for her Master’s degree in Forensics, she recreated the store on her sketch pad. She envisioned the serving bar, the three baristas, the two cashiers. In went th
e tables, six small round ones, customers on the two chairs at each one. The two green velour couches, filled with lounging guests reading newspapers and chatting. Brunettes with long hair tied back in ponytail holders and clips, blonds, a redhead with purple streaks, a really loud guy with a Mohawk and multiple piercings, a cute businessman immersed in his computer, Asians, African-Americans--in went everyone with all their idiosyncrasies. She was a talented artist with an exceptional eye and attention to detail. It was one of the reasons she was studying forensics. She had a burning need to solve things.
That evening as she strolled home to her apartment in Chelsea, she passed a man on a bench reading a newspaper. She tried not to pay him too much mind, and casually walked by him, humming a tune from her iPod.
She recognized him as one of the patrons from Starbucks that morning. He’d been engrossed in his computer, but she remembered his mop of thick and unruly brown hair and his handsome, wide-set features. She recalled the scene and was certain it was the same businessman on the computer. Coincidence? She didn’t think so.
She didn’t believe in them. Not even a little.
Later that evening, she left her building through a basement side door which led to an alley on the next block. She circled back to her residence. The man was there, huddled in the doorway of a neighboring basement apartment, his gaze transfixed on her apartment window. She wasn’t scared, like you’d expect a young girl to be when a stranger was stalking her. Instead, she was curious, wondering who he was and why he was following her. A quiver of excitement ran up her spine.
She decided to keep to her routine the next day. Starbucks, class, the gym, and then back home. While the stalker kept his distance, she noticed him two more times. He tried to blend into the crowd, but with that mop of hair she could pick him out easily. She had to remember both times not to stare too long at him and give herself away. But she could see him staring at her.
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