“There was no sign of life either on the ships or in the compound. I approached the temple, which was enormous; it had sloped roofs of Asian design, large columns and stacked timber walls. The exterior was sun-faded red, and on the corners of the structure were highly detailed carvings of dragons and tigers locked in battle. It was as if the building had been scooped out of the mountains of China and dropped in this thick rain forest.
“Around the building, the vegetation was held at bay as if someone had been tending the place, but there were no footprints, no sign of movement but the natural world.”
“What does this have to do with my mother?” Xiao interrupted, growing impatient.
Howard took a breath, “Everything.”
The two sons stared at their father waiting for him to continue.
“I climbed the smooth white stairs to the main entrance, pulled open the large doors, and it was like stepping back in time. An overwhelming feeling filled me, as if I were desecrating the firmament of heaven. Peering in, I could see a vast entrance foyer with a wide hall running off in all directions. But there was something haunting about it—I did not enter.
“I closed the doors and walked around the side, and that’s when I found everyone. The graves numbered in the hundreds, all with makeshift markers that were weathered and faded by the sun and elements. They were grouped, and as I looked upon them I understood why. The first grouping contained thirty markers, Chinese; I had no comprehension of the writing. The second was Spanish from the 1760s, a crew of twenty-six, all having died within days of one another; there was a Dutch section with thirty-two graves, all dead in the month of March 1888.
“It felt like I had stepped into a nightmare. I wasn’t sure if it was plague, some tropical virus, or if someone had been overtaken by madness and killed everyone else. But a question occurred to me: Who had buried them when they finally passed?
“The warning was more than clear, illustrated by the grave markers, by the uninhabited island, by the feeling that was permeating my very being. I needed to get off the island.
“Nighttime came quickly. I didn’t chance heading back downriver in the dark. I stayed in the forward cabin of the sloop.
“And then in the morning, I saw them—footprints, several sets, different sizes, a trail that started at the door of the building and ended at the water line. It appeared that there were at least six different individuals, but they were gone now, as if ghosts in the night.
“I had no intention of looking for them.
“The small sloop was beautiful, her rigging was intact; she was seaworthy and would be my way home. I gathered food, fish, fruit, and water to last me a month, and set sail. I quickly headed downriver and made it to sea within a half-hour. The waters were incredibly rough and it took me several hours to find an opening in the surrounding reef to get clear of the island.
“Not one hour out, I hit storm-filled seas, twenty-foot waves from crest to trough. Night fell quickly and I had no heading; my compass was useless, compromised and in constant flux. The storm clouds obscured the stars in the night sky, and come sunrise, the day was black and rain-filled. I was alone at sea, fearful for my life, thinking the tempest would never end.
“It was on the fifth day that the waters calmed, that the skies cleared.
“I made shore on a small island in the Philippines and got word to my command, rejoining them within days. I told no one of what I had found, telling my commanding officers that the island was small, the sloop had been shipwrecked. We learned it belonged to a professor who disappeared in the thirties, a historian who had no family. After the war, I kept the boat, since it had saved me. I rechristened the sloop the Calypso, the boat that you know so well. I sailed it while on leave to all the places I dreamed of. Though I tried to find that island again, I couldn’t. It was on no map, I had no compass heading, no read on the stars; it was lost to my imagination.
“For years I kept it a secret until I finally told your mother. She sat there in disbelief before asking me a series of pointed questions about the Chinese junk, about the templelike structure, finally saying she knew where I was: Penglai, an island some spoke of as myth, others as fact. Some say it holds the key to life, riches, magic, while others say it holds nothing but death.
“She told me of a great Chinese explorer, Admiral Zheng He, of his travels and the rumored discovery of the same island. We had a laugh, a few what-if conversations, and forgot about it.
“A year later, while cataloguing artifacts to be returned to China, I found a reference to a book among a stolen cache of artifacts in the belly of a ship in Japan, the diary of the Chinese admiral Zheng He. The Japanese had taken it during the war along with countless other objects, with no idea what it was.
“I went alone into the belly of the ship. I located the book. It was stored in a box within a tattered velvet pouch along with various artifacts: a small red satchel filled with diamonds, some brass trinkets, and two engraved pieces of wood, one black, one red, beautiful, polished artifacts with fantastic dragons and tigers upon them. They were possessions of Zheng He scheduled to be returned to the Forbidden City in a week’s time.
“For nights I lay awake, curiosity burning inside me. I could have the answers to the questions that had haunted my dreams since the day I escaped that island. I could return there to find the answers that vexed not only me but so many others. I knew that at the end of the week, the answers would disappear into the Forbidden City, slipping through my fingers forever.
“As the days went on, the clock ticking down, I became more and more obsessed. It was my only thought and it obscured my logic; it obscured my morals and judgment. There was nothing I loved more than the Navy, my command, my station in life, and I knew I was risking it all with one single act. But I convinced myself that no one would ever know, that I could control the situation.
“I returned to the belly of the Japanese ship with a small crate labeled Top Secret. I picked up the velvet pouch and removed the book, holding it in my hands. It was bound in thick leather and was exquisite, a work of art in and of itself. I placed it in the wooden crate. But before closing up the case, I took the small black engraved artifact; the engravings fascinated me. I had never seen anything so detailed, so intriguing. And I took the diamonds. It was impulsive; they were a means to funding a better life than my naval pay could provide, a way to give your mother things that were out of our reach, a means to affording a life at sea. I hadn’t planned it, hadn’t thought about it once. I just did it.
“I sealed up the case and left the ship. No one questioned me, no one would dare ask an admiral what was in the top-secret case he was carrying.
“I was not infallible. I had every intention of returning the book once I unlocked its secrets. But it was written in Chinese, a language I had no prayer of ever learning; it might as well have been locked away in the bowels of Fort Knox.
“And so I revealed what I had done to your mother—not the diamonds, just the book and the artifact. I explained that I would return them, I just needed to know what the book said, if it had the answers I was seeking. She did not hold me in judgment, but helped me to begin the translation.
“I hid the diamonds in my study and over the coming months and year, after you two had gone to bed, your mother would help me translate the book. It contained a detailed account of Zheng He’s seven voyages, a catalogue of what he had found. There were cryptic notations of wealth, of cures to disease and death. But halfway through, she stopped. She said she would go no further. There were things on that island, she said. She wouldn’t say what, but I could see the fear in her eyes; it was as if she’d stood next to me on that island staring at the graves.
“I begged her. You don’t understand what it’s like to have all of the answers to your questions in a book before you but not be able to read it, to understand what was within. It was taunting me, my mind exploding with a need for answers. I couldn’t take the book anywhere else for fear of being found out. She wa
s my only means, she was in control, a rare position for a woman in the fifties or even now, fifteen years later. Your mother and I fought and we fought often. I wasn’t used to not being in control; I was the man, she was from a culture where women were inferior.
“I knew there was a map in the book, but I had no way to understand it. It didn’t match any known charts, and its headings pointed to empty seas. And now, every time I looked at the book, I was filled with fear, always concerned that I would be found out, that I would somehow be caught with not only the book and artifact but the diamonds. It was a mistake that haunted me; I felt such guilt for violating my mandate, my own ethics. I had risked my career and yet I had no answers to my questions about the island. So I began to drink to deaden those feelings.”
Howard paused, his eyes closed. He was speaking as if he were in confession, as if he was arriving at the truth that he had concealed for so long.
“Drinking awakened the dark side of my soul, something I couldn’t control: My emotions, my fists were not my own. I would awaken in the morning after a bender to find your mother bruised, her eyes red from tears. My shame knew no end, worsened by the fact that she acted as if nothing had happened. As the weeks and months went on, she threatened to leave me. Her resolve growing with time, she said she would contact the Navy and tell them everything, about the island, about the diamonds she had found in my study. Something she knew would destroy me and my career. I thought it was just a threat.
“After I hit her the last time, she disappeared with you”—Howard looked at Xiao—“and she took the book and the black engraved artifact. She left me a letter telling me to never look for either of you or she would end my career with a single phone call.
“I couldn’t allow that. I would be court-martialed, thrown in prison.” Tears welled in Howard’s eyes.
Isaac and Xiao stared at him in shock.
“I never meant for her to die. I just wanted the book back. I sent a special-ops officer, just back from Vietnam to find her. He wasn’t supposed to harm her, just get her to turn over the book. She fought back…”
Isaac stared at his father, a world of emotions pouring over his face. Xiao smiled, having won, having had his suspicions confirmed. Smiling, as it made what he intended to do even easier.
“What is in the book?” Xiao asked.
“The way back to Penglai. It detailed what was in the temple, things I could never have imagined.”
Isaac and Xiao hung on his every word.
“Tell me where the book is.” Howard looked at Xiao. “Stop this nonsense and let’s find the island together.”
“You killed her, you expect me to just forget that?”
“Please know, I loved her—”
Xiao glared at his father, halting his words.
“Then at least let your brother go,” Howard said. “He has nothing to do with this.”
Xiao looked at Isaac but he was staring off into the distance in shock.
“Bottom left-hand drawer,” Howard said. “There’s a naval reg book.”
Xiao opened the drawer and found the book, pulling it out. He looked at his father, at his brother, and finally opened it to reveal a false interior. He reached in and pulled out a small satchel; he spilled the diamonds into his hand.
“Take them, let us go.”
“You think diamonds will erase the pain?” Xiao said as he laid them on the desk.
“Jacob,” Howard said. “Please know, I never stopped loving you.”
Xiao looked at the man he had once known, whom he had once loved. He reached up above the mantel and drew down the dull-bladed sword, a crude weapon whose only purpose was for show.
“Jacob,” Isaac finally spoke. “Don’t do it. It won’t bring her back.”
“But she will see that she is avenged.”
“Please, don’t do this…” Isaac pled.
“You say you love me, though not once did you seek me out,” Xiao said to his father. “I will see the truth in your eyes as you die.”
“If you do it,” Isaac said, “I will hunt you down…”
Xiao looked back at Isaac, tied to the chair, his face filled with a rising anger, then turned back to his father, staring into his eyes.
And without another word, he drove the sword into his father’s belly, watching as the pain rose in his face, as the life seeped from his eyes.
“No!” Isaac screamed, his cry filled with anguish and rage as he struggled against his binds.
Xiao spun about quickly, withdrawing the blade from his father with a sickening slurp, the blade humming at his brother but halting its advance at the edge of his throat, silencing him.
There was no fear in Isaac’s eyes, only anger, only revulsion. They glared at each other, all of the love they had had for each other, all of the experiences of their childhood, the bond that was supposed to be eternal, severed, washed away in a sea of mutual hate.
With his free hand, Xiao snatched the diamonds off the desk, threw the sword to the floor, and disappeared out the door.
CHAPTER 28
MACAU
Michael, Busch, and Jon walked through the ornate lobby of the Venetian. They had spent the last hour getting a feel for the layout, walking the casinos, trying their hands at fan-tan, poker, craps, the slot machines, with only Busch winning. In fact, he was up four thousand dollars in a short period of time, seeming to have a sixth sense when it came to playing the odds.
“Nothing like a good old ‘abusement’ park to lift your spirits.” Busch couldn’t help smiling.
“Or suck you dry,” Michael said as watched the different expressions on the faces of the people checking in as opposed to those checking out. “So many people arrive thinking they’re going to win but walk out with holes in their pockets.”
“But the trick is that they had fun while losing,” Jon said. “That’s the magic of a good casino. They fleece you but you always come back for more. The casinos that fail are the ones that take your money and kick you to the street with a bad taste in your mouth.”
“That’s not all that puts a bad taste in my mouth,” Busch said as he looked at Jon, his words sharp and challenging.
“Are we on schedule?” Jon asked, ignoring Busch.
“Where’s your colonel?” Michael asked.
“In the room next to yours. He arrived a few hours ago. Do you want to see him?”
“I want assurance that KC is unharmed and will be freed when we are done.”
“Fair enough,” Jon said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“If you want this done tonight,” Michael said, “there are still obstacles.”
“Is it the safe?” Jon asked.
“I’ll get into the safe,” Michael said. “But I can’t get past the guard on Sublevel Six.”
“What about the security, the cameras?” Jon asked.
“What can you do about the guard on Sub-Six?”
“I will deal with that,” Jon said.
“How?”
“Not to worry, I will own that man before we go in.”
“What do you mean ‘we’?”
“I told you, I’m going with you.”
Michael stared at Jon. He knew he would need his help, but up to this point he had thought it would be limited to supplies, logistics, and reconnaissance. While he had had Busch with him in the past, Simon, even KC when he was pulling a job, he had never worked in the presence of someone he considered an enemy, a man who would gladly kill him upon the job’s completion.
“You know you need me,” Jon said. “You may be brilliant at getting past security, compromising safes, ripping people off, but I’m the one you need to deal with the Chinese factor.”
“If you leave a trail of bodies…” Busch glared at Jon.
“Who said anything about bodies? I told you I will deal with getting you past the guard; I didn’t say I was going to kill him,” Jon said. “My question is, how are we going to get out of not only the lower level but the building with the bo
x?”
“How confident are you of getting inside help like Carl?”
“Just tell me what you need.”
Michael handed him a sheet of paper. “If you can do that, then you will have your precious box. We’re heading back across town; call me when it’s arranged.”
CHAPTER 29
MACAU, ONE MONTH AGO
It was by pure happenstance combined with an overindulgence in scotch that Xiao learned where the book his mother stole from his father was hidden. He had spent years searching for it, knowing of its existence; he knew he wasn’t chasing fairy tales. And as his quest broadened, he learned more and more about what it was thought to contain, all of which made him double his efforts.
He had been sitting in a private gambling room at the Venetian dressed in his favorite Armani suit, his long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Marconi sat across from him; the older man had the deal as he spoke fondly about his relationship with Xiao’s uncle Kwon, regaling Xiao with stories of his uncle’s fearsome temper, his sense of humor, his love for his sister Lily. Marconi’s two trusted associates sat in silence as if their sole purpose in life was to pour money into the pot, which was only being won by Xiao or Marconi.
It was when Marconi was up nearly one million dollars and on his sixth scotch that his lips loosened a little too much and he spoke about the book, the diary that he had purchased from Kwon, the elegant Zheng He diary.
Xiao smiled and listened to the old man, shrouding his emotions as he absorbed what Marconi said. Marconi had had the book translated in its entirety, laughing as he spoke of having the translator killed upon completion. He spoke of what the book said, where the book led, and what it revealed, and he spoke of a small black puzzle box that held death, death in its worst form, a death that could sweep away an enemy’s family with only a few drops…
The two men retired to Marconi’s private suite on the twenty-sixth floor of the Venetian to negotiate Xiao’s purchase of Zheng He’s diary. As one of the casino’s biggest clients, Marconi had not only a private suite but his own vault in the lowermost level, which was considered one of the most secure places in the world. As food and drink were laid out before them, Marconi dismissed his butler and the two men began discussions.
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