Page 29 of Clive Cussler's Quantum Tempest
“Gonna need a laundromat. You?” He nodded at her blood-spattered club.
“Yeah, all good.” She tossed her gory weapon into the mud. “Let’s cut these women loose, gather up some weapons, and clear out before their friends start looking for them.”
“Roger that.”
Linc wiped the blood from the blade before slashing the hard plastic bonds pinning each woman. Raven tried to comfort the younger ones still shuddering with terror and utterly confused. But one of the older women, the first one freed, called out in a loud whisper, “Mira, allí,” as she pointed out a shallow cave in the rocks.
The women who had gathered their wits didn’t need any instructions and helped Linc drag the four bodies into the hollowed rock. A few of the women spit on the corpses and cursed their souls as they tossed leaves and dirt over them.
Raven gathered up the weapons and found an AK with a folding stock and a 9-millimeter pistol, along with mags. Both guns could becarried concealed. She easily tore down the other AKs and tossed the parts deep into the trees, careful to grab the bolt carriers with their firing pins and hurling them as far down the hill as she could, rendering the weapons utterly inoperable.
Raven then gave instructions to the women to race back up to the main trail, leave behind their dead, and rejoin their friends and family. She urged them to not discuss the rescue nor identify her and Linc. The grateful women pledged eternal silence as Linc scattered the last vestiges of blood and gore on the trail with his shoes. One woman kissed Raven’s hands and blessed her before turning away and following the others up the hill.
Linc and Raven waited ten minutes to give them time to escape, half expecting another band of armed thugs to appear from the bottom of the trail. It wouldn’t be much of a gunfight if they came up in force. But for once, their luck held. No one came.
The two Gundogs retreated up the hill to resume their journey across the Darién. Another cloudburst opened up, washing away their filth.
17
The People’s Republic of China
The diminutive young woman with bright, soft eyes and attractive build flashed her credentials. The chiseled security guard couldn’t contain his surprise. He’d never seen that level of clearance possessed by someone so young. He immediately escorted her to the VIP elevator with its uninterrupted ascent to the top floor. Moments later, a secretary pushed open the exquisitely carved dragon door and ushered Linlin Zhang into Peng De’s office.
Peng’s office, like the man himself, was both futuristic and stylish, a perfect blend of aesthetic form and technological function. Shanghai’s steel and glass skyline shimmered with sunlight in the tall corner windows.
Linlin hadn’t visited the city in years and had never been to the new headquarters of her organization. Shanghai had been transformed into one of the world’s great architectural capitals, just one of dozens of Chinese megacities flourishing like golden blossoms. As China prospered, many American cities decayed into Third World ruins, their streets as filthy and dangerous as the drug addicts littering them. It was hard to believe the United States had ever won any wars, hot or cold.
Peng rose with a smile to greet her. He wore the latest Chinese fashion, a Mandarin collared jacket tailored to his lean build, fitted slacks,and leather loafers. His chin beard and hair were neatly trimmed. Linlin couldn’t shake the feeling he had dressed up for the occasion.
She suddenly felt haggard after her long red-eye flight from Germany. She’d managed to freshen up in the airport bathroom, but didn’t take the time to stop by her hotel for a proper shower and change of clothes. The last thing she wanted to do was to draw the man’s attention to her good looks. But judging by the light in his eyes, she’d already crossed that bridge. An old familiar feeling gurgled in her taut belly, but she flashed a pleasing smile that hid her anxiety.
Peng offered his hand, and they exchanged a comradely handshake.
“So good to see you,” Peng said. “It has been, what, five years?”
“That long? Yes, I believe so. Where does the time go?”
“Please.” He gestured to one of the two chairs in front of his desk. She took one and he the other.
“Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?”
“That’s kind of you to offer, but no, thank you. I think I drank my weight in tea on the flight over.”
“I appreciate you coming on such short notice.”
“I’ve only just arrived and came straight from the airport. Your urgent message was cryptic.”
Peng gazed paternalistically. “You seem upset, maybe even nervous?”
“Forgive me. I haven’t slept in thirty-eight hours. I took the red-eye, but I can’t sleep on planes, and caffeine makes me jittery. I must look a mess…”
“Not at all. More lovely than I even remember.”
Linlin blushed a little, and drew a hank of her chin-length hair behind her ear.
“How do you like your work in Germany?” Peng asked.
“I’m happy to serve wherever the Party needs me.”
