The Prisoner's Gold (The Hunters 3) (25 page)

‘Oh,’ she stammered. ‘Of course. I’ll, uh, I’ll go check on Maggie.’

‘Great,’ he said, sliding into the doorway of the bathroom so she could pass behind him.

Sarah left without saying another word.

Later in the day, they all gathered in Papineau’s room for another briefing.

They all wore variations on their ‘uniforms’, the specialized outfits Sarah had designed with the first aid kits and survival gear tucked into various pockets. Cobb had told everyone to be prepared to leave the hotel at a moment’s notice, so they had dressed accordingly.

To avoid looking like a team, they all wore shirts of different colors. McNutt wore a gray T-shirt with an Indian motorcycle logo. Papineau selected a beige safari shirt with buttons, long sleeves, and multiple pockets. Maggie wore a colorful blouse that helped her blend in with the locals. Sarah opted for the black, long sleeve jacket that came with the pants. Meanwhile, Garcia’s shirt, which looked one wash away from completely falling apart, had HASBRO emblazoned across the chest.

Dressed in a black T-shirt, Cobb started the meeting. ‘Okay Maggie, what did you find in the documents? Any mentions of Polo?’

‘I haven’t had time to read all of the records yet. They were written with an ancient flair that has been tough to decipher. That said, Marco Polo
is
mentioned – but not by name.’

‘That’s a relief,’ McNutt said while sprawled on Papi’s bed. ‘It would have sucked if those books were just full of egg roll recipes.’

Maggie glanced at him. ‘Joshua …’

He immediately sat up straight against the headboard. ‘Sorry, ma’am.’

Sarah stared in awe, envious of Maggie’s way with him. ‘I’m not sure how you were able to train him, but can you teach me?’

Cobb ignored the comment. ‘If Polo isn’t named, how do you know it’s him?’

Maggie answered. ‘He is referred to as
bakgwei
, which means “white ghost”. There couldn’t have been that many Caucasians in the area at the time. As I told you yesterday, most of what was recorded in those ledgers was a long list of boring facts scribbled by government underlings – and absolutely nothing about egg rolls.’

McNutt lowered his head in shame.

She continued. ‘So when something out of the ordinary came along, it was usually written about in great detail. In this case, a Caucasian man carrying a
paiza
and acting as an emissary of Kublai Khan? That’s certainly going to be mentioned.’

‘Maggie,’ McNutt said, ‘if I can’t joke about egg rolls, you can’t joke about pizza.’

Maggie shook her head. ‘Not pizza, Josh. He was carrying a
paiza
.’

‘What’s that?’ Sarah asked before McNutt could.

‘A
paiza –
or a
gerege
in Mongolian – was a foot-long, three-inch-wide golden tablet. It was engraved with a message that read: “By the strength of the eternal Heaven, holy be the Khan’s name. Let him that pays him not reverence be killed.”’

She glanced around the room to emphasize her point. ‘This tablet was essentially a passport, a foreign ambassador’s ID, and an American Express Black Card all rolled into one. It told everyone in the empire that they were to assist Polo on his mission, or they would be put to death. That meant free food, free lodging, free women, free soldiers … whatever he desired.’

‘I have something like that in
World of Warcraft
. It’s awesome!’ Garcia bragged.

Everyone in the room just stared at him.

He quickly got the point and pulled up an artist’s rendering of Polo’s tablet. Gold in color, it had a number of etchings at the top and two columns of Chinese characters running vertically down the middle. With a few keystrokes, the image appeared on the flat-screen TV that was mounted on the wall.

‘What was his mission?’ Cobb asked.

‘It wasn’t described – most likely because it was confidential. He did fondly mention the Loulan Kingdom and asked several questions about that area, but it wasn’t clear whether he was heading there after he left.’

‘And where was this?’ Papineau asked.

‘It was in the town of Lanzhou in Gansu province,’ Maggie answered.

A few seconds later, a map of modern-day China appeared on the TV. A red dot indicating Lanzhou was blinking in the middle of the landmass.

Maggie glanced at the map and shook her head. ‘I’m afraid this map is a little misleading. Remember, most of what is western China today was not a part of China then. At the time, Lanzhou was one of the last outposts of civilization and a gateway toward the frontier of the west.’

‘Sorry,’ Garcia said as he typed furiously. A moment later, a neon-green outline of Ancient China was superimposed over the modern map. ‘This was China during Polo’s time.’

Maggie smiled. ‘Thank you, Hector.’

‘Is that important?’ Papineau wondered.

‘I think so,’ she said. ‘I’m reading between the lines a lot, but I think by the time Marco traveled to Lanzhou, the three Polos were already planning to leave China.’

‘What makes you think that?’ Cobb asked.

‘Intuition, really. Things said, things left unsaid. It’s the way Polo is described by the government scribes. It seems that after a while he had become accustomed to the privilege of the golden tablet. Some of Marco’s actions … it’s hard to put into words.’

Maggie, still finding her footing, paused to gather her thoughts.

Sarah found her indecision troubling. ‘Is it possible that you’re seeing things that aren’t actually there? I’m not trying to accuse you of anything, but I know from our previous missions that treasure has a way of messing with your head. Trust me, all of us have been there. You start making up crazy theories to fit the facts, all in hopes of finding the pot of gold.’

Sarah glanced at Cobb, who subtly shook his head.

Now wasn’t the time to add more pressure.

Maggie considered the question for an uncomfortable moment while the others remained silent. ‘Yes, I guess it is possible. Remember, I’m giving my opinion here. We don’t have a clear roadmap to follow, so all we’re left with are my impressions and interpretation of events. That said, I have a possible location after my reading – but all I have to back it up is a hunch.’

‘I’ll be honest,’ Sarah said, ‘I’m happier putting my faith in your hunch than on all the guesses that the rest of us could come up with. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the expert.’

Cobb smiled warmly at Sarah.

It was the right thing to say, whether she meant it or not.

Maggie beamed. ‘Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate your confidence in me. Unfortunately, the area that I’m thinking of is one of the most politically turbulent areas in Asia. We can get in, but we are sure to face several issues with security.’

Papineau opened a bottle of water and poured some into a glass.

He didn’t like the sound of her initial warning.

She continued. ‘Polo mentioned – and the scribes recorded – many of the travels he undertook as a diplomat for the Khan. He traveled far and wide across China and the neighboring kingdoms. He claimed he was always impressed by the people and the cultures he encountered, and the scribes recorded his enthusiasm. He is recognized as being very progressive for the time, keeping an open mind about the unusual sights and practices he encountered. Still, by this point in his journey, I feel Polo was evaluating potential hiding places for the wealth he had accumulated. Of all the places Polo mentioned in Lanzhou, he seemed most impressed with the people he found in the region we call Xizang today. Besides Taiwan, it’s the biggest cauldron of raw feelings and political animosity in all of China.’

‘And where is Xizang?’ Cobb asked.

Garcia’s fingers were a blur on his laptop. As soon as Maggie mentioned the name, he had started looking for a map of the region to put on the TV. But his efforts screeched to a halt when he realized which part of China she was talking about it.

‘Oh crap,’ he said as all eyes turned to him.

‘What’s wrong?’ Cobb demanded.

‘Xizang is the Chinese name for Tibet.’

Papineau stood quietly and opened the window for some fresh air. The sounds of Tokyo drifted up into the room as a chaotic but subdued din. It was raining outside, but the balcony from the room above kept any water from coming into the suite.

‘What’s the problem with Tibet anyway?’ McNutt asked. ‘Monks, yaks, mountains. I saw a documentary once. Buddhist people. What’s not to like?’

‘Tibet is a political hot potato,’ Maggie said. ‘It’s now firmly a part of China, but it used to be a separate country. The whole region that used to be independent Tibet is the size of Alaska and Texas combined. That would make it the world’s tenth largest nation. In 1951, Chinese communist forces invaded the then-sovereign region and annexed it, permanently.’

‘Why?’ Sarah asked. ‘I was always led to believe that China didn’t like to expand because of its culture.’

‘That is correct,’ Maggie replied. ‘Throughout history, most Chinese believed that China was the center of the world, and everywhere else was the frontier, populated by barbarians.’

‘Then why did China even invade Tibet?’

‘The reason is as basic as you can get. They did it for water.’

‘Water?’ Sarah blurted.

Garcia looked up from his computer. ‘Holy crap.’

Maggie smiled. ‘Yes, Hector. Tell them how much.’

‘Tibet is the source of fresh water for forty-seven percent of the world’s population,’ he said, reading from the screen of the laptop.

‘That’s correct,’ Maggie said. ‘When you have that much of a natural resource in the hands of a neighbor
and
you can justify your taking it by saying that you were simply retrieving what was once yours, you don’t ask for permission. You just move in.’

Cobb shook his head. ‘That’s not all, though.’

‘Unfortunately, no,’ Maggie said. ‘The Dalai Lama, the spiritual leader of Tibet, was just a boy when China invaded in 1951. He fled the country in ’59 and has been living in exile in India ever since. The communists were incensed that he escaped. They set about persecuting the Buddhist leaders, and they eventually installed their own puppet as religious leader. Worst of all, they began a secret ethnic genocide, moving Han people into Tibet in order to displace and breed out the ethnic Tibetan population.’

McNutt sat up. ‘Seriously?’

Maggie’s face was grave. ‘Two-hundred thousand people died in the atomic bombings at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But close to a million Tibetans have died since China invaded. Of course, as a Chinese woman, I learned none of these things – even after the advent of the Internet – until I first traveled abroad. The region is one of the most oppressed in the world. Chinese troops have shut down ninety-nine percent of the monasteries around Tibet. Regardless of whoever attacked us in Guangzhou, we’ll also have to face the People’s Liberation Army in the capital city of Lhasa; especially around the Potala Palace. That’s the former home of the Dalai Lama and a symbol of the Buddhist faith in Tibet.’

‘Great,’ McNutt muttered. ‘Can’t wait.’

‘And what exactly are we looking for there?’ Sarah asked.

Maggie shrugged. ‘Unfortunately, this is where the conjecture begins. Professor Chu told us about a young woman Polo had met and fallen in love with. Her name was Yangchen, and she was a local girl who was assigned to Polo as a tour guide. He wanted to see the remnants of the Great Wall north of Lanzhou, and she was the one who led him. At that time, the Wall had fallen into total disrepair. Most of what was standing was in ruins. It wouldn’t be until a hundred years later when serious reconstruction began.’

‘What do the records say about Polo?’ Sarah wondered. ‘I’ll bet a relationship between a “white ghost” and a local girl didn’t go over too well.’

‘Quite correct,’ Maggie said. ‘Many locals were incensed, and a few of the kinder folks tried to gently explain to Polo that their relationship would not be welcomed anywhere in China. But according to the scribes, he was determined to win over her family. By the end of his stay in the region, he was heading to Lhasa with Yangchen as his guide.’

‘Were they going to the palace?’ Cobb asked.

‘Definitely not. The Potala Palace wasn’t built yet. However, there was a different temple on the same spot, and the area was still run by the monasteries of the region. If they made it to Lhasa, the monks would have mentioned Polo in their records. And if those records survived, they would be at the Potala today. At least, I think that’s where we’d find them. Again, a lot of this is guesswork.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Cobb admitted. ‘We could sit here for a month debating whether anyone kept records at the Potala, or whether they’ve turned to dust over the centuries. We won’t know for sure unless we go there.’

Papineau cleared his throat. ‘Won’t going to Tibet open us up to further attacks – especially since we don’t know who is after us?’

‘Maybe. But we’re not going to find the treasure in Tokyo.’

‘Still,’ Papineau argued, ‘if they could track us from Hong Kong to Guangzhou, isn’t it possible they will know of our arrival in Lhasa? It’s imperative that we keep a low profile. I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate on why a team of treasure hunters blowing up another city might be cause for alarm. Another incident like Alexandria would be very bad indeed.’

‘First of all,’ McNutt argued, ‘we were the targets in Alexandria, so don’t blame us for that. Secondly, the bomb in Panyu was barely a firecracker. It blew up one car, not an entire city.’

‘What about Brighton Beach?’

McNutt smiled. ‘Forgot about that one. Yeah, that was fun.’

Papineau rolled his eyes. ‘Anyway, if we can avoid blowing up any more of China …’

‘First things first,’ Cobb said. ‘If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take the Gulfstream from Japan. I’m hoping we can get in and out of Tibet before anyone notices us.’

‘No problem,’ Papineau said.

Cobb looked at Garcia. ‘Hector, if the monks did keep records, I’m assuming they won’t be digitized. But don’t let that stop you. Dig around and see what you can find. I want to know what you know the minute we touch down in Tibet.’