THE TOMB OF GENGHIS KHAN
A JAMES ACTON THRILLER
J. ROBERT KENNEDY
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"James Acton: A little bit of Jack Bauer and Indiana Jones!"
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BOOKS BY J. ROBERT KENNEDY
The Templar Detective Thrillers
The Templar Detective
The Templar Detective and the Parisian Adulteress
The Templar Detective and the Sergeant's Secret
The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist
The Templar Detective and the Code Breaker
The James Acton Thrillers
The Protocol
Brass Monkey
Broken Dove
The Templar’s Relic
Flags of Sin
The Arab Fall
The Circle of Eight
The Venice Code
Pompeii’s Ghosts
Amazon Burning
The Riddle
Blood Relics
Sins of the Titanic
Saint Peter’s Soldiers
The Thirteenth Legion
Raging Sun
Wages of Sin
Wrath of the Gods
The Templar’s Revenge
The Nazi’s Engineer
Atlantis Lost
The Cylon Curse
The Viking Deception
Keepers of the Lost Ark
The Tomb of Genghis Khan
The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers
Rogue Operator
Containment Failure
Cold Warriors
Death to America
Black Widow
The Agenda
Retribution
State Sanctioned
The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers
Payback
Infidels
The Lazarus Moment
Kill Chain
Forgotten
The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries
Depraved Difference
Tick Tock
The Redeemer
Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series
The Turned
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Table of Contents
The Novel
Preface
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
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Acknowledgments
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About the Author
Also by the Author
For Deniz and Alex.
“The greatest happiness is to vanquish your enemies, to chase them before you, to rob them of their wealth, to see those dear to them bathed in tears, to clasp to your bosom their wives and daughters.”
Genghis Khan
“I am the flail of God. Had you not created great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.”
Genghis Khan
PREFACE
There are many variations on the notion, however the most famous quotation is ‘History is written by the victors.’ In 1227 AD, the leader of the Mongol Empire, Genghis Khan, died at the age of 65. This is historical fact that few dispute. What is disputed is how he died. Those who revered him, generally agreed he died from a wound he received in glorious battle.
A fitting end to one of the most brutal warriors of all time, responsible for the deaths of perhaps 40 million people.
Second only to his thirst for blood was his legendary, almost mythic, sexual appetite, with as many as 16 million descendants attributed to him.
Legend has it that every night he demanded a beautiful virgin be brought to him, one who belonged to his most recently conquered foe. Is it then so hard to believe that one might have fought back, and perhaps even bested him?
There is a legend that says this very thing did happen, though as we know, history is written by the victors, and those who tell this story were certainly victims, not victors.
Yet if their story isn’t true, why was a Mongolian river, known at the time as the Yellow River, renamed Khatun Gol?
The River of the Princess.
1 |
Mongolia Present Day
Archaeology Professor James Acton cursed as his wife spun in her seat to see what he had just spotted in his rearview mirror, silhouetted against the moonlit sky. A helicopter, mere feet off the pavement, racing toward them on the lonely, barren road they had been traveling for almost two hours.
And judging by its weapons pods, it wasn’t civilian.
It was straight out of a Rambo movie.
It’s gotta be a Hind.
Russian made, big, brutal, and obviously Mongolian military.
He pressed
harder on the accelerator.
“You’re going to try and outrun them?” Archaeology Professor Laura Palmer’s voice was filled with incredulity. And he didn’t blame her. It was a stupid move. He eased up on the gas.
“What should I do?”
She stared at him for a moment, as uncertain as he was. “Stop before they shoot?”
He sighed, nodding in agreement as he eased off the gas, slowly bringing them to a stop as the massive machine swept over them, banking hard to the right before landing a couple of hundred yards ahead of them. Troops poured from its innards, weapons raised as they surrounded their car, orders shouted at them in Mongolian, a language of which neither of them had an inkling of understanding.
“Do you think they’re going to kill us?”
Acton frowned as he stared at the soldiers, raising his hands, resisting the urge to take hers in his one last time, lest someone think he was reaching for a gun.
And he cursed at himself, for they had both been right.
This had been a colossally stupid move.
And now they might pay the ultimate price for it.
2 |
Tangut Empire, Western Xia August 17, 1227 AD
Mutukan roared as he leaned forward in his saddle, his sword extended in front of him, the reins gripped tightly in his other hand. His master, the great Genghis Khan, was slightly ahead, leading the charge as he always did when afforded the opportunity, a formidable warrior still, despite his advanced age.
The man was an awe-inspiring sight, fearless in his intensity, beyond courageous, filled with a determination that suggested he knew nothing could stop him, nothing could hurt him.
That he would never die.
It had him wondering about his master’s visit with the Taoist monk rumored to possess an elixir of immortality. Had he provided the Khan with it? Was he now immortal, and was that why he had no fear?
He dismissed the idea as someone shouted a warning of incoming arrows. He had been with the Khan since long before that meeting, and the bravery had always been there. The Khan simply feared nothing, no one. There was no enemy that could defeat him if he were leading the charge.
And today’s enemy would be no exception. The Tangut had crossed the line yet again, and this time they were to be shown no mercy. Total loyalty was demanded should autonomy within the empire be desired. The Khan recognized that his empire was simply too vast to control everything himself, so should an enemy capitulate and swear allegiance—which included providing troops should they be needed—then they were left alone. Should they refuse, they were slaughtered. And should they betray their allegiance later, the results were often worse.
Disloyalty would never be tolerated.
When the Tangut had refused to provide soldiers for the campaign against the Khwarezmia, it had been the final straw, and today they would pay the ultimate price. He ducked, raising his shield against the thousands of arrows inbound, then resumed the charge, unscathed, though too many of his brothers had been struck.
As had been the Khan.
He urged his horse on faster, yet his leader didn’t slow. Instead, Mutukan shook his head in wonder as the arrow, embedded in his master’s thigh, was snapped off, the rest forgotten as blood trickled down the Khan’s leg, any pain ignored, any concern, if it existed at all, hidden.
He was a living god, and his men would do anything for him, including sacrificing themselves should he ask them.
The Tangut army lay ahead, scores already breaking ranks as the massive Mongol horde descended upon them. Death was certain, defeat inevitable, and as he swung his sword, defending his master’s right flank, he reveled in the blood, in the carnage, in the cries of those dying around him, begging for mercy, pleading for forgiveness.
But no quarter would be shown today, for his master’s thirst for revenge appeared unquenchable, and his words echoed in Mutukan’s head.
“I am the flail of God. Had you not created great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.”
And today, whichever god had sent them, had unleashed a punishment that would soak the ground with blood for years to come.
3 |
Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia Present Day, Two Days Earlier
Arban Namjiliin careened around the corner, the laws of physics taking over as he skidded hard, slamming into a parked car, the engine cutting out. He didn’t bother trying to restart it, instead throwing the door open and sprinting into a nearby alleyway as those pursuing him caught up, tires squealing as they came to a halt.
He ducked around a corner, desperately searching for somewhere to hide, and spotted a doorway. He grabbed the handle and relief swept over him as it opened. He stepped inside, shoving the door closed as quickly and as quietly as he could, then looked for a means of escape.
And cursed.
There were no other doors, not even a window.
He grabbed his phone as he crouched against the door, the shouts of his pursuers growing louder, then typed the text message he had been planning for hours, sighing with relief that he finally had a signal, the message sent to the one man in the world whose number he had in his phone, and who just might be able to help him.
Archaeology Professor James Acton.
4 |
Milton Residence St. Paul, Maryland
“There should be a law against that.”
Professor James Acton wholeheartedly agreed with his best friend and boss, Dean of St. Paul’s University Gregory Milton. “Absolutely. It should be a crime to cancel a series on a cliffhanger. And they wonder why so many shows fail in their first season. I mean, I don’t bother watching anything new anymore, because I’m afraid they’re just going to cancel it on me and piss me off.”
“So, you’re the problem.”
Acton regarded his wife, Professor Laura Palmer. “I am?”
“Well, too many people think like you do, so too many of you don’t watch the new shows, so they end up failing. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
Milton’s wife Sandra laughed. “She’s got you there, Jim.”
Acton gave his wife the stink eye briefly. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”
“I always am, darling, if you’re right.”
“Well, we both know I’m always right.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure, when have you ever made the wrong decision?”
He gave her a toothy smile. “Never!” He turned back to Milton, his best friend more likely to be on his side. “Like, how many series have the networks canceled on us, leaving us hanging? And they’re usually the best ones that have story arcs. Canceling a show like Law and Order is one thing. The stories are episodic. Cancel a show like The Terminator or Lois and Clark, where there’s a continuing storyline, and you piss people off. You alienate them.”
Milton’s head bobbed as he took another sip of beer. “You’re preaching to the choir, brother. I was pissed when they canceled V! I mean, come on! If they know they’re going to cancel something, they should have to do a wrap-up episode. Like Firefly!”
Acton drained his beer then jabbed a finger at Milton. “I can’t believe they canceled Firefly! Whoever did that should be fired. But at least they put out that movie Serenity and gave us a bit of a sendoff.”
Laura rolled her head toward Sandra. “You do realize these two will go on about this for the next two hours if we don’t stop them.”
Sandra laughed. “We are two lucky women, aren’t we?”
Laura patted Acton on the arm. “It’s hard to tell sometimes.”
Acton chuckled. “Okay, fine, what would you two like to talk about?”
“Did you see the Bachelor last night?”
Acton and Milton both leaned back in their chairs, their bodies rigid planks as they both executed exaggerated groans.
Laura laughed, smacking his shoulder. “Just kidding, you bloody fool. You know I hate that crap.”
Sandra agreed. “Me too. Now, the Bachelorette, that’s an entirely diff
erent story.”
Laura was about to say something Acton was certain he’d find horrifying, when his phone vibrated on the table with a message. He swiped his thumb and his eyes widened as he read it, then shot wide. He sat up straight as he realized it might not be the hoax he thought as he saw who it was from.
Laura picked up on his change in mood, turning toward him. “What is it?”
“It’s a message from Arban Namjiliin. He was at the university a few years ago on exchange.”
Milton’s head bobbed. “Yeah, I remember him. I approved the funding. Mongolian, wasn’t he?”
Acton nodded, holding up his phone. “He just sent me this. ‘Professor, I’m in trouble. I don’t know who to trust. I think they’re going to kill me.’”
Sandra gasped and Laura’s jaw dropped. Laura leaned closer to get a better look at the message. “Is that it? Does he say who?”
Acton shook his head. “No, that’s it.”
“Call him back,” urged Sandra.
He was about to do just that when he paused.
“What?” asked Laura.
“Well, if he could call, he would have. Mongolia probably has horrendous cellphone service. He texted for a reason.” He tapped out a message, sending it, and waited, his breath held, when a small red circle appeared indicating the message had failed to get through. “No go.” He tried twice more before giving up.
Milton set his beer aside. “We need to tell someone.”
Acton agreed. “But who?”
“His government? His place of employment?”
Acton shook his head. “He said he didn’t know who he could trust. For all we know it’s his government or employer that wants him dead.”
Sandra frowned. “If it’s his government…”
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