Steve Berry - The Emperors Tomb (Cotton Malone 06)

ALSO BY STEVE BERRY

NOVELS
The Amber Room
The Romanov Prophecy
The Third Secret
The Templar Legacy
The Alexandria Link
The Venetian Betrayal
The Charlemagne Pursuit
The Paris Vendetta
E-BOOKS
The Balkan Escape

The Emperors Tomb is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2010 by Steve Berry

Map copyright 2010 by David Lindroth, Inc.

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

B ALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

Berry, Steve.
The emperors tomb : a novel / Steve Berry.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-0-345-52314-3
1. Malone, Cotton (Fictitious character)Fiction. 2. Booksellers and booksellingFiction. 3. Antiquarian booksellersFiction. 4. KidnappingFiction. 5. RansomFiction. 6. DenmarkFiction. 7. PakistanFiction. 8. ChinaFiction. I. Title.
PS 3602 .E 764 E 46 2010 813.6dc22 2010019168
www.ballantinebooks.com

v3.1

For Fran Downing, Frank Green, Lenore Hart,
David Poyer, Nancy Pridgen,
Clyde Rogers, and Daiva Woodworth
Teachers extraordinaire

To the folks at Random House: Gina Centrello, Libby McGuire, Cindy Murray, Kim Hovey, Katie OCallaghan, Beck Stvan, Carole Lowenstein, Rachel Kind, and all those in promotions and sales. Once again, thanks.

To Mark Tavani, thanks for being a persistent editor.

To Pam Ahearn I offer a ninth bow of gratitude and my continued appreciation.

To Simon Lipskar, I deeply appreciate your wisdom and guidance.

A few special mentions: Charlie Smith, who performed some much-appreciated reconnoitering in China; Grant Blackwood, a superb thriller writer who saved me from falling in Denver; Els Wouters, who provided, on short notice, vital on-site research in Antwerp; Esther Levine for opening doors at the terra-cotta warrior exhibit; Bob and Jane Stine, who stimulated my imagination over lunch and connected me with Julia Xiaohui Zhu; James Rollins for once again helping save the day; Michele and Joe Finder, who offered some sage advice; Meryl Moss and her wonderful staff; Melisse Shapiro, who is more helpful than she could ever realize; and Esther Garver and Jessica Johns who keep History Matters and Steve Berry Enterprises running.

I also want to say thank you to every one of my readers around the world. I appreciate your loyal support, insightful comments, infectious enthusiasm, and, yes, even your criticisms. You are what keeps me writing every day.

And theres Elizabethcritic, cheerleader, editor, wife, muse. The whole package.

Finally, this book is dedicated to Fran Downing, Frank Green, Lenore Hart, David Poyer, Nancy Pridgen, Clyde Rogers, and Daiva Woodworth. Together, they showed me how to teach myself to be a writer.

Whether I succeeded is still a matter of debate.

One thing, though, is clear.

Without their influence, nothing ever would have been printed.

Study the past if you would define the future.

C ONFUCIUS

History is a maiden, and you can dress her however you wish.

C HINESE PROVERB

All countries large and small suffer one defect in common: the surrounding of the ruler with unworthy personnel. Those who would control rulers, first discover their secret fears and wishes.

H AN F EI T ZU , 3rd century BCE

NORTHERN AREAS, PAKISTAN

FRIDAY, MAY 18

8:10 AM

A BULLET ZIPPED PAST C OTTON M ALONE . H E DOVE TO THE rocky ground and sought what cover the sparse poplars offered. Cassiopeia Vitt did the same and they belly-crawled across sharp gravel, finding a boulder large enough to provide the two of them protection.

More shots came their way.

This is getting serious, Cassiopeia said.

You think?

Their trek had, so far, been uneventful. The greatest congregation of towering peaks on the planet surrounded them. The roof of the world, two thousand miles from Beijing, in the extreme southwestern corner of Chinas Xinjiang Autonomous Regionor the Northern Areas of Pakistan, depending on whom you askedsmack up against a hotly disputed border.

Which explained the soldiers.

Theyre not Chinese, she said. I caught a glimpse. Definitely Pakistanis.

Jagged, snowy summits as high as twenty thousand feet shielded glaciers, patches of green-black forest, and lush valleys. The Himalaya, Karakoum, Hindu Kush, and Pamir ranges all merged here. This was the land of black wolves and blue poppies, ibex and snow leopards. Where fairies congregated, Malone recalled one ancient observer noting. Possibly even the inspiration behind James Hiltons Shangri-la. A paradise for trekkers, climbers, rafters, and skiers. Unfortunately, India and Pakistan both claimed sovereignty, China retained possession, and all three governments had fought over the desolate region for decades.

They seem to know where were headed, she said.

That thought occurred to me, too. So he had to add, I told you he was trouble.

They were dressed in leather jackets, jeans, and boots. Though they were more than eight thousand feet above sea level, the air was surprisingly mild. Maybe sixty degrees, he estimated. Luckily, both of them carried Chinese semi-automatic weapons and a few spare magazines.