by Howard Upton
A few moments after entering the restroom, Rafael reappeared in the cabin. His hair was slicked back and the bruising on his face has lessened significantly. His straightened nose didn’t look too bad either, and Dugan was happy that the man’s eyes had not blackened with the break. Dugan reminded himself to never lose his composure again, something that stupid could land him in an uncomfortable position with law enforcement, or worse.
He motioned Rafael to follow him to the front of the plane. The men walked down the small set of steps attached to the plane’s door and made their way to the terminal. Jet fuel permeated the air and the day’s hot, sticky air immediately hugged them like a long-lost friend.
As with so much of Hong Kong’s infrastructure, the airport was immaculately pristine. The terminals were magnificent works of art, spectacular architecture everywhere they looked. Weight bearing pillars standing at strange angles holding up an amazing glass and metal roof lined the area. Sunshine radiantly reflected off highly polished tile floors, as smartly dressed business men and women hurried to their gates. An endless number of retail stores and liquor shops welcomed customers from all over the world, each store as clean and beautiful as the next.
A massive LED lit sign welcomed travelers to Hong Kong in every imaginable language. In keeping with the sign’s theme, numerous languages could be heard over the airport’s intercom system announcing arriving and departing flights. Strong smells of cooked food drifted through the terminal as Dugan and Rafael followed their noses to the nearest food court.
Flying in a private jet afforded them certain luxuries not available to the general public flying on commercial airlines. Security measures were not taken as seriously for those capable of paying exorbitant prices for the privilege of traveling privately. And since they would not be leaving the airport, they radioed ahead so they wouldn’t have to walk through customs. For a moment Dugan considered how suicidal this global policy was, but quickly pushed it from his thoughts as they made their way through the airport.
They ordered local cuisine and found a table overlooking the harbor and Lantau Island. Hong Kong International Airport sat alone, an island to itself, a considerable drive to Hong Kong proper. Heavy smog clung to the area as the green water of the South China Sea lapped at the sea wall protecting the landing strips.
“What do you think, Rafael? This is Hong Kong and is a part of the land of your ancient family. How do you like it so far?” asked Dugan.
“I’m Mexican, Mr. Dugan, but I must admit this place has called me, especially since I recovered the jewel. I look forward to our arrival in Xi’an so I can see where my blood originated. I have never been outside Mexico until our...uh...trip,” replied Rafael.
Dugan put a forkful of rice noodles and chicken in his mouth then chased it with a bottle of water. He chewed slowly, enjoying the flavors, which were unlike any Chinese food served in the States. Even though it was airport food, the Chinese were very careful and cognizant of the many world travelers passing through their cities, and as a result they wanted their food, no matter where it was served, to be the best.
After swallowing it, Dugan said, “Rafael, I suspect when we get to Xi’an you’ll get to do more than see the country of your blood. I think you’ll be reunited with the blood of your countrymen.”
Rafael chewed his food and stared at Dugan unsure of his meaning, and wondering if what he had said was some sort of veiled threat.
Shanghai, China
Shanghai Pudong International Airport
July 24, 2013 6:55 P.M.
Evers and Buddy stepped off their plane and located a kiosk directing them to their next and final gate. Shanghai’s Pudong Airport was another Chinese marvel and both men, despite jet lag and travel weary, took in their surroundings. Evers was impressed with the terminal, its level of orderliness and cleanliness, something considerably different than airports back home and in other parts of the world to which he had traveled.
Buddy, on the other hand, was busy watching Chinese women in skirts walking through the terminal. Evers quietly chuckled as he watched Buddy’s head snap back and forth each time a young lady walked past them. He shook his head but said nothing, not wanting another lecture on finding a woman to satisfy his XY chromosome and natural male hormonal desires. Naturally, Buddy was right about him needing a good woman in his life but admitting that his mentor was correct put his ego at risk of implosion on a cataclysmic level.
They found a small bar serving Chinese beer and a few imported liquors. Each ordered a drink, neither having much to say. Both of them knew the importance of silence before battle, just as both knew the importance of sharing pertinent information about battle planning. This was one of the times that silence was the necessary mode of communication.
After several minutes of silence Buddy spoke up, “Well, goddam. Here we are about to spread the word of the Good Lord in a godless place while we save the world from certain fucking destruction. I’ll drink to that,” he said as he raised his glass of bourbon.
Evers smiled and raised his beer. The glass clinked and both men turned their drinks up and gulped liberally. Buddy ran his shirt sleeve across his mouth wiping away the alcohol residue left on his lips. The sleeve-wipe was followed by a mild belch. A Chinese lady sitting next to him turned her head slightly in a disapproving manner. Buddy winked at her then added, “God Bless.”
“As soon as we land, Buck, we’ve got to find where these Terracotta Warriors are and set up a perimeter. It’ll be tough since there are just two of us, but the research I’ve done shows that they’re all in one place. That makes things a little easier for us. Once we make contact, we move in. If at all possible we take Dugan out without using the paraphernalia we’re carrying; no need to attract attention if it isn’t necessary. It’s absolutely vital that we recover the cartouche and get it and the army out of the country. Once we’re in Mongolia we haul ass out and Uncle Sam will be responsible for moving the soldiers. Like I said, we’ve got to get close to Dugan and that spic feller traveling with him. Use that 3D pistol wisely. I have no idea how reliable it is.
“At this point it’s safe to say this mission is kill and recover. That is, take Dugan and the Mexican out, get the jewel and get out. It’s really that simple. We need to do this quickly and quietly,” Buddy said.
“It sounds like you’re pretty confident that Dugan will show up to lay claim to the soldiers pretty quickly. What makes you think he won’t lay low for a while,” asked Evers.
“He’s a smart man, Buck. Not as smart as me, but he’s smart. There’s a sense of urgency pushing him to get here and get out, and I think he’s planning more than just taking the warriors with him,” Buddy whispered.
Instinctively, Evers looked around then focused on Buddy. “What do you mean?”
Buddy sighed then said, “When he and I were heading to that hangar where he was holding you, he said something that’s eaten at me the last couple of days. I didn’t put it together until a couple of hours ago and, even though he didn’t come right out and say it, I’m pretty sure I’m right. He told me there were things in this world beyond a man’s control, but there are things that aren’t.
I had no idea what he was talking about, but now I think I do. That crazy bastard doesn’t care so much about the Terracotta Warriors, Buck. What he cares about is the spell. Specifically, if he can figure out how the spell was cast in the first place, he’ll control the fucking world. He wants to learn the secret of the spell so he can cast it. Can you imagine one man having that kind of power?”
Evers face went pale. He knew Dugan took evil to a whole new level, but had no idea he had the kind of ambition Buddy just described. Buddy’s reasoning easily explained why Dugan had taken Rafael with him, even though the man had pulled a gun on him. Everyone heard him chanting in a different language, and now Evers realized that language was some Chinese dialect. Obviously, Rafael was somehow linked to the cartouche and the Terracotta Army, and appeared to be the conduit to freeing
it from an eternity of stone and damnation.
“Jesus Christ, Buddy,” gasped Evers.
“Amen,” Buddy replied.
“We are going to need to do some recon of the area when we arrive. Hopefully we’ll get there before our friends. The more familiar we are with the terrain the better off we’ll be.”
“You are exactly right. Let’s finish these drinks and go hop a plane. As the younger generation likes to say, ‘shit just got real,’” Buddy quipped, seriousness in his tone.
Xi’an, China
Xi’an Xianyang International Airport
July 24, 2013 9:09 P.M.
Evers and Buddy stepped off the plane and were directed to customs. Both were outwardly calm but knew if one, or both, was found with the plastic firearms no amount of diplomatic pleas would ever free them from their Chinese prison. Fake passports and visas in hand, Buddy was called to the agent’s glass box.
The customs agent examined Buddy suspiciously without looking at his papers. Buddy tried to look meek, which is the way he knew most Christian missionaries presented themselves. After a few uncomfortable moments the agent examined the passport and visa. His eyes narrowed as he reached for his flashlight to check the holographic watermark. Evers could see Buddy swallow, his composure shaken somewhat.
The agent barked out something in Chinese and another man, similarly dressed, walked over. After a few seconds of conversation the second agent asked Buddy a series of questions. It became obvious that the newer agent was the only one capable of speaking English to the newcomers.
“Why you in Xi’an,” he asked in broken English?
“My friend and I, “he started as he motioned toward Evers, “are here to spread the good word of Christianity in your beautiful country.”
“The Chinese not care about your Christian god,” he stated categorically.
Trying to keep his voice steady, Buddy replied, “I understand that, sir. That’s why we’re here. We would like the opportunity to share Christ’s goodness.”
He reached for Buddy’s visa and studied it for a few moments before handing it back to the seated agent.
“Where will you be staying while in Xi’an, sir?” he asked.
Fortunately he had made prior arrangements for two rooms in the city before leaving Manila. He pulled his handwritten notes from his pocket and replied, “We are staying at the Jiabao Hotel. I hear it is very nice.”
The agent grunted then reached for Buddy’s passport. As he had done with the visa, the agent studied his United States government issued passport like it was the first one he had ever seen.
“How long you share the word of your Christ here in Xi’an?” he mocked.
“We will be leaving on August seventh, exactly two weeks from today,” said Buddy with considerably more confidence.
For a few more seconds he eyed Buddy before looking at the first agent and giving him a curt nod. The first agent then continued to eye Buddy for a couple of seconds more before grabbing his passport and stamping the official Xi’an seal onto one of the pages.
Buddy thanked them both and grabbed his bag stepping forward to wait on Evers. Evers was called to the same desk that Buddy had just left and was given the same treatment. He fumbled for his forged passport and visa while holding a King James Bible that Buddy had given him before leaving the Philippines.
Several minutes passed as Evers was grilled by the English speaking agent. Feeling a little more at ease after watching Buddy receive the same treatment and still be allowed to enter the country, Evers answered the questions smoothly. His only concern would be the discovery of some flaw on his fake papers.
Satisfied that Evers posed no risk to national security, the second agent again nodded to his counterpart and the familiar pounding of the seal dropped on his passport. He grabbed his carry-on bag and began walking toward Buddy. A small grin touched his mouth.
“Don’t go gettin' too happy just yet, amigo. We still have to get through outbound security. I hope you didn’t put that little plastic gem I gave you in your bag,” said Buddy.
Evers and Buddy walked through the terminal, the walls feeling as though they were collapsing on them. Their non-Asian features screamed “enemy” to the hardcore Communist Chinese, and their American passports, no matter how well they had been made, indicated they were not to be trusted.
The two made their way through outbound inspection. Buddy’s bag was chosen and gone through. Nothing unusual was found inside the bag and both were motioned through the line. Evers had put his pistol in his waistband while on the plane and wasn’t concerned about the baggage inspection, but he was intensely aware of its weight and what would happen if it was discovered.
As seasoned as each man was in combat, a look of relief crossed each of their faces. Neither had predicted the ease of their entry into Xi’an, but both were appreciative of it. They looked at one another, each recognizing the emotion on the other’s face. That recognition caused each to eradicate the look of relief each shared.
They walked into the terminal in search of baggage claim and transportation. Luckily, signs were posted in Chinese and English that pointed them in the right direction. As they walked toward the claim area they took in the layout of the airport.
Comparatively, Xi’an’s Xianyang Airport was drab, especially after they had just traveled through Pudong Airport in Shanghai. No one seemed happy to be there, and the merchants were disinterested in any potential customers who happened into their stores. Sleep boxes, large wooden boxes with a window and bed, dotted the terminal. Evers found this very strange having never seen anything like them before. For a small price, weary travelers could get some sleep on a bed in a climate controlled “room.” The airport itself was rather grungy and ordinary and the floors lacked any sort of luster.
After a few minutes, they arrived at baggage claim. Luggage was just beginning to funnel onto the carousel. Tired travelers quickly grabbed their bags and rolled them toward the automatic doors. Eventually, Evers and Buddy’s bags fell to the carousel.
As the two walked outside they saw people lining up to get a cab. Evers’ first sense of Xi’an was the lack of horn blowing and hand waving in an effort to hail a taxi. The entire process was very orderly and cordial. People were polite and quiet.
The next thing Evers noticed was the inordinate number of cameras mounted at every possible angle around the outside premises of the airport. He wondered if the cameras were the reason the majority of the people kept their heads down, avoiding the ever-watchful eye of the Chinese overseers.
A green and white taxi pulled to the curb as Evers and Buddy grabbed their luggage and prepared to throw it in the trunk. “Jiabao Hotel,” said Buddy as they closed the rear doors of the cab.
Their cabbie nodded and replied, “Hăo” Okay.
Both passengers sat in silence as their driver drove the eleven kilometers from Xianyang Airport to the hotel Jiabao. Sullen gray apartment complexes doubled as high rises along the city’s skyline. Even in the night the dull, uninteresting appearance was noticeable. Evers knew the Chinese government all but forced the majority of its populace into the crowded cities that dotted most of the country’s eastern third of its borders. Grouping its people, he understood, made it easier to control them, much like hording cattle into a fenced pasture.
The drive was uneventful and finished with Buddy paying the chit of seventy Yuan. They grabbed their luggage, checked into their rooms and agreed to meet in the hotel lobby in fifteen minutes. Evers took the time to shower and catch his breath after traveling half a world. Buddy lay on his bed and thought about the night that would follow. He wondered if it would be his last. More often than not he was able to predict events before they unfolded. It was an assumption of his that God had given him that ability as a parting gift for serving in the church. But tonight was different. He faced an unpredictable adversary who held in his hands a power that one person should never wield.
In exactly fifteen minutes the two warrior
s met in the hotel lobby. Evers saw Buddy standing to the side shaking hands with a Chinese man. Buddy handed him a Bible and bowed his head in apparent appreciation. Neither had said anything to the other since their departure from the airport, and neither felt the need to. Both men understood what was at stake.
Evers had taken the liberty to ask the desk clerk to call another cab for the men just before Buddy had arrived. Within a few minutes the driver awaited his passengers in front of the hotel lobby. Buddy nodded to his protégé as they stepped outside into the hot evening air and climbed inside the cab.
In the back seat Buddy nonchalantly handed Evers a handful of forty caliber bullets for the 3-D pistol. Evers raised a questioning brow but had learned that Buddy’s contacts around the world made things happen. Like magic, he thought to himself as he remembered the man he saw Buddy speaking with in the lobby. He casually pushed the bullets into his pocket as he looked out the cab’s windows.
“Terracotta Warriors,” Buddy asked the cab driver?
The driver gave them both a confused look then nodded his head. Evers presumed it was because of the late hour. They would have to be very careful and move quickly to avoid detection by the Chinese authorities. Their cab driver would remember two Americans that he drove to a closed tourist attraction.
Lights from Xi’an’s many high rise buildings sped past them as the driver sped toward their destination. Cars and scooters buzzed along as a few people could still be seen on the city’s sidewalks. The usual smog that sat atop the city had lightened and become less dense making the cityscape much easier to see.
Twenty minutes later the cab pulled into the pyramid housing one of China’s national treasures. Their driver’s English was poor and broken as he stammered, “Close. No good.”
Buddy paid him the seventy Yuan and stepped out of the car. Evers exited from the other door. Both men quickly scanned the area searching for cameras they knew were there, and for the two men they hunted.
