The Thieves of Legend

by Richard Doetsch

  Suddenly the young man pushing the cart grabbed his wrist with a viselike grip. “I can’t let you. You don’t understand.”

  Lian looked the man in the eye. “Relax. I was told to tell you your daughter is fine and will be released in an hour. We don’t have much time.”

  The younger man studied him for a moment and finally released his grip. Lian pulled the case from the cart, swapped it with the case he had, and tucked it back in the cart. He replaced the two boxes of chips and let the man enter the elevator.

  As the elevator left, Lian slung the bag onto his shoulder, turned, and walked toward the main entrance. Halfway to the door, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number he had committed to memory.

  “Venetian Security,” the voice answered

  “Good evening,” Lian said. “Sorry to trouble you, but there is a large robbery about to occur in the VIP section, the private gaming rooms. The three men committing it are armed and dangerous and will not hesitate to kill.”

  As Lian walked out the main doors, he closed his phone, tucked it into his pocket, and smiled at his deception.

  The driver closed the door and remained outside as Lian took the three of spades and tucked it into his pocket. He reached into the satchel and pulled out the metal box, handing it to the man.

  Lucas gave no acknowledgment, no thanks, as he placed the case reverently in his lap.

  “Jon said I’d get the balance of payment COD.”

  Lucas ignored him as he thumbed back the hasps. He lifted the lid as if he were about to peer into the mysteries of God.

  Lucas stared into the depths of the case for a moment before turning back to Lian, a tinge of anger in his voice. “Do you have any idea who you are dealing with?”

  “No,” Lian said in his accented English. “And quite honestly, I don’t care. Just give me the money and I’m gone.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not the type to joke,” Lian said. “I’m sure Jon mentioned that when you hired me.” Lian finally tilted his head and looked in the case and saw it was empty.

  “What is this?” Lucas said.

  “This was the box on the cart.”

  “And you didn’t open it?”

  “I don’t care about your secrets, I just care about my money.”

  “You watched them come out of the service area?”

  Lian nodded. “From that moment on, the cart never left my sight.”

  “You saw them all go upstairs? You sure?”

  “Yeah, in the elevator.”

  “If they switched cases beforehand,” Lucas said, “they would have just left the building.”

  “Unless they knew you were about to double-cross them,” Lian said. “What was it supposed to contain?”

  “What we are doing doesn’t concern you—”

  “Until I’m paid, it does. And if you think you’re going to screw me over the way you are screwing over members of your team… I can promise you I won’t tolerate it and Kang certainly won’t tolerate it; he’ll kill you for even thinking about not paying him.”

  “Who’s—”

  “Look.” Lian’s voice grew cold. “I don’t care about what’s in your box, what’s supposed to be in your box, or how you screw your people. But—”

  “Who’s Kang?” Lucas interrupted him.

  “What?” A dawning filled Lian’s eyes. “Oh, shit.”

  “Who’s Kang?” Lucas repeated.

  “He was in the hotel suite when I picked up the case.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He’s a cleaner, he was dealing with the body.”

  “What body?”

  “A female.”

  “What did she look like?” Lucas asked slowly.

  “Not sure. Very well dressed, Caucasian—”

  “I meant her face…”

  Lian just looked at him. “There was only the body, there was no head.”

  CHAPTER 43

  “Someone traded out the case,” Busch said, doing everything he could to restrain himself. They were locked in an adjacent poker room while a dozen security agents dealt with the carnage next door.

  “No shit,” Jon said.

  “It was traded in the elevator,” Michael said.

  “You don’t know that. The case was out of our sight for close to ten minutes.”

  Michael shook his head. “No, the chip on our case, the one I’ve been tracking, came out at the lower level, it was in the casino and at the private elevator downstairs. I saw it move off-center just before the elevator arrived up here. I didn’t question it.”

  “Maybe you should’ve,” Busch said, his voice filled with anger.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” Michael said to Jon.

  “How would he know?” Busch asked.

  “Did you kill her?” Michael pressed.

  “No,” Jon said with disgust in his voice.

  Michael had seen the shock on Jon’s face when the head was displayed, but he had also seen anticipation in the man’s eyes, something that shouldn’t have been there.

  “But you knew the cases were switched?”

  “What?” Busch said. “You were setting us up? You son of a bitch.”

  “You knew the cases were switched, didn’t you?” Michael asked. “But somebody betrayed you, too. How’s it feel?”

  Jon stood there, his face unable to hide his shock.

  “You’re a gun for hire,” Michael said. “Make no mistake. Like you said, like the colonel said, whatever it takes, a few lives to save many.”

  “While everyone averted their eyes or stared at the face,” Jon said, “I looked at the neck, the precision of the cut. It was pure, no tearing at any point.”

  “You speak with admiration,” Busch said.

  “No. I speak with respect, with fear. It was done with the finest of blades, a jian or katana, crafted by an expert swordsmith. Someone was sending a message.”

  “No shit, shaheem.” Busch shook his head. “I think the message was clear.”

  “The message wasn’t for you or me,” Jon said. “The woman killed was Lucas’s girlfriend, the woman he loved.”

  “I didn’t think he was capable of that emotion,” Busch said.

  “Earlier this evening a man named Reiner, Lucas’s assistant, was killed in the same manner, his head sent to the colonel.”

  “You could have mentioned that,” Busch said.

  “It wasn’t a need-to-know thing.”

  “I think that’s an everyone-needs-to-know thing,” Michael snapped.

  “Why don’t they just kill the colonel and save us all from this nightmare?” Busch asked.

  “Why does this Xiao want to torture Lucas?” Michael asked.

  Jon was thinking, weighing his next words, until he finally spoke. “Xiao is Lucas’s brother. He’s taunting him, chipping away at his soul, at his life. You’d better hope he doesn’t succeed, for if he does, if Lucas dies, he has a way of reaching out from the grave to kill you. He’s the type to plan for every contingency, and who knows what Annie will do?”

  The door opened and the tall security agent stepped into the room, followed by two more agents, their guns conspicuously drawn.

  Jon stepped forward. “I need to make a phone a call.”

  “In a few minutes you will be escorted down to the security level of the casino.”

  “We did not murder that woman,” Jon said.

  “What woman?” the agent said.

  Jon fell silent.

  “There has never been a murder in the Venetian.” The man paused. “Or at least any evidence of one.”

  “What did you do with that woman’s head? Where is her body?” Busch asked, his face growing red with anger.

  “We wipe away unfortunate events such as this,” the man said softly, making a point. “There will be no record she ever set foot in this resort.”

  “How?” Busch asked.

  “In the same manner we will make the three of you dis
appear.”

  CHAPTER 44

  THE FORBIDDEN CITY

  Annie entered the stone cavern, her weapon light leading the way. The ceiling was low, a glasslike body of water on the far side, ten yards away, her light dancing off the surface, sending colored shards about the earthen room.

  “That box is useless to you, KC,” Annie said loudly. “You have no idea what it contains or what its function is.”

  “Shoot me and you’ll never find the box,” KC’s voice echoed.

  Annie spun about, her rifle held tight, its beam sweeping the room. But the space was empty. There was no sign of KC.

  “I’ve hidden it,” KC’s disembodied voice said, “and you and your army and the Chinese and whoever else you want to enlist will never find it.”

  Annie spun around again, unsure where the voice was coming from. She walked about the cavern, shining the light into the corners, desperately trying to pinpoint KC.

  She finally stopped a moment, removed the pistol from her waistband, laying it upon a rock. She unclipped the weapon light from beneath the rifle barrel, laid the rifle next to the pistol, and walked into the center of cavern.

  “You know those were my only two weapons,” Annie said as she held up one hand while shining the light around her body. “Please.”

  KC stepped from the shadows, her back to the body of water; she flipped on her flashlight, shining the blinding light like a weapon in Annie’s face. “What do you mean I’m dying?”

  Annie stared at her, and for a moment there was an expression of compassion and sadness on her face. “It’s a virus. I don’t know the full deal on it, but it shows itself first with a bloody nose; the headaches are the second symptom. And it gets far worse from there. It will run its course in days.”

  “Where did it come from?” KC asked, ignoring her last statement, adjusting the neoprene bag that hung from her shoulder. “And how the hell did I get it?”

  Annie pointed her finger at the ceiling. “The emperor who built the city. One of his admirals brought it back from some island six hundred years ago, but there is a cure. The piece within that red box will lead us to it. So you see, you destroy that box, you’re killing yourself.”

  “Are you offended I’m stealing that pleasure from you?”

  “Do you understand why I’m not concerned with your life?” Annie’s compassion vanished.

  KC stared at her.

  “There’s a man who possesses this virus, says he’ll let it loose on U.S. military personnel. He infected Colonel Lucas as an example.”

  “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?” KC paused, digesting what Annie had said. “And how was I infected?”

  “Back in New York, at the airport bar.” Annie paused. “I infected you. One drop in your drink.”

  “So you killed me days ago.” KC seethed. There was no self-pity in her tone, only anger. “You never had any intention of letting me live. Is Michael infected?”

  Annie remained silent.

  “Is Michael infected?” KC screamed.

  “No. They’re just going to shoot him. We infected you as leverage in the event you or he tried to run, like you did now.”

  “So,” KC said, shaking her head, “why should I even think of giving you this box?”

  “Because it will help us find this island where the cure is located.”

  “I could go and find your island myself and let your precious colonel die.”

  “No, you couldn’t. You don’t have all the pieces of the puzzle that the colonel has. But I’ll guarantee, you give me that box and the colonel gets the cure, you’ll get the cure, too.”

  “Bullshit. You poisoned me before you met me. You just tried to shoot me in the back—”

  “You were running away with the case. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done any different if you were in my shoes. I need that red box, KC, I’m not about to allow hundreds of people to die—”

  “No, only two: Michael and me.”

  “Would you trade two lives to save a hundred, a thousand?”

  KC inhaled. As ruthless as Annie was, KC understood her logic: The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. But she was talking about Michael’s life, and KC wasn’t about to sacrifice him for this woman’s story.

  “You find me despicable,” Annie said. “A woman with a gun, killing. Do you understand now? Do you understand why I have done what I have done?”

  “You took pleasure in what you did long before you found your profession. And I understand that you and your colonel are so despicable that the only way you can get people to help you is by blackmailing them, by holding their lives over a flame.”

  “Are you going to help me?”

  KC ignored her, lost in thought, trying to comprehend everything that had just been revealed to her. She had never dwelled on her own mortality, had never dwelled on death, always embracing life. But now, with the thought of having it ripped away—

  Without warning, Annie reached behind her back, grabbed a pistol, and thrust it into KC’s face. “Give me the box.”

  “And I thought we were friends.” KC smiled, unfazed by the barrel staring at her.

  “I don’t have time for games.”

  “You’ve already poisoned me, now you’re going to shoot me? I’ve got nothing to lose. Kill me now and you’ll get nothing. It will be you who failed.”

  Annie grabbed the zipper on the neoprene bag that hung on KC’s shoulder, violently unzipped it, and dug in, finding a dive mask, the hand-drawn map, a water bottle, and nothing else.

  “I told you—”

  “Where is it?” Annie screamed.

  KC just smiled, taunting her, relishing her escalating rage.

  Consumed with frustration and rage, Annie drew back her hand and slapped KC across the face.

  KC’s head snapped left.

  “Give me the box!”

  KC kept her focus, ignoring the stinging red welt on her cheek, and grabbed the barrel of the gun, twisting it upward. Annie had not seen KC violent, had not seen her aggressive, and was momentarily startled that she fought back, surprised at her strength. Annie grabbed the butt of her gun with two hands.

  KC swung the flashlight up and hit Annie upside the head, stunning her. KC wrenched the pistol out of her hand, throwing it behind her, where it hit the water with a splash and vanished.

  But Annie dove at her, knocking her to the ground. As KC scrambled to gain her footing to escape, Annie saw it, protruding from her pocket: the red box. She lunged at her, tearing it out of her back pocket.

  Annie quickly turned and raced for her guns on the rock, scooping up the pistol and spinning about.

  But KC was already running, heading for the water. She reached in the bag at her side, grabbed the mask, and zipped the bag back up.

  As Annie fired a hail of bullets, the reports echoing in the confined space, KC hit the water and swam down, pulling the dive mask over her eyes and nose. Pressing her palm against the top while blowing out her nose, she cleared the water from the mask, and her vision opened up. The water was pure and crystal-clear. She shined the flashlight before her and swam down toward the single door ten feet down. The frigid water was already playing havoc with her muscles, sapping their strength.

  In the rush of escape, she hadn’t gotten the breath she wanted, but feared resurfacing, as Annie would surely be waiting to shoot her in the head. She continued down, clearing her ears as she went, the weight of her clothes pulling on her, impeding her speed. She pulled as hard as she could, deep, long breaststroke pulls and kicks, driving herself to freedom. The beam from the flashlight in her left hand spun about like klieg lights on the ancient room she swam through. She dived through the doorway, continuing as the map had indicated. The corridor ahead was stone, the ground smooth, carved from the granite; she had committed the route to memory and knew it was only another twenty-five yards.

  But as she swam, she felt her lungs catch fire. She wasn’t sure if it was from the shallow breath she had taken o
r the virus that she had just learned was slowly killing her.

  The flashlight beam caught her exit, just up ahead, the rising corridor that opened into another room, a room that would allow her to leave this underworld.

  She began to surface, her strength and breath renewed now that she was almost free of her watery confines—but her head hit stone. She shined the light up but it reflected back. She moved along the ceiling, realizing that something had collapsed, blocking her exit.

  Her lungs on fire, she pulled as hard as she could, moving forward another ten yards, but again the ceiling seemed to continue. Dots appeared before her eyes. Her muscles burned, the cold water, the lack of oxygen sapping all of her strength. And the light fell upon an opening another ten yards ahead. With her heart pounding, her lungs depleted, she tried to find the strength to make it, kicking for her life, but it was too much.

  And she blacked out.

  AS ANNIE CAUGHT her breath, she looked at the red box, smiling at KC’s foolishness. She wanted to pursue her, but knew she was at a disadvantage, her swimming skills poor, a lack of ability that could kill her here.

  She rubbed her head where the flashlight had hit her, the ache compounded by exhaustion. She had been going nonstop for three days now with minimal sleep, and could feel the toll on her body.

  She tucked the small red box into her pocket, affixed the weapon light back to the base of the rifle barrel, and headed back the way she came…

  . . . and caught sight of the blood. It had dripped on the back of her hand. She ran her fingers over the wound from where KC had hit her; it throbbed, but as she looked at her fingers, she saw no blood. She ran her hand across the tender area again, but still found no sign of blood.

  She suddenly stopped in her tracks, took a breath, reached up, and touched beneath her nose…

  . . . and felt the flow coming from her right nostril.

  CHAPTER 45

  THE VENETIAN

  The tall man with dark hair stood outside the casino, his eyes fixed on the black Range Rover.

  He had parked his car in the garage of the casino and had walked through the four gaming rooms for the last several hours, sampling tables, gambling casually. He was exceedingly good at it, though he believed more in fate than in odds. He was getting a feel for the ebb and flow of the clientele at this hour, making casual conversation. He had a gift for languages: He was fluent in all the Latin-based tongues, English and German, and Mandarin, which had made the last twenty-four hours far more manageable, not only in terms of conversation but in terms of reading various documents.