But the other man didn't even flinch. "Give it your best," he said with fire in his eyes. "Now get out, before I call security and have them throw you out."

R ANSOM HAD LEFT WITHOUT ANSOM HAD LEFT WITHOUT further comment, but that hadn't been the end of the fight. It had simply moved on to a different battlefield after that. While their lawyers fought it out in court, he and Davenport had taken it to the arena they knew best, doing everything they could to ruin the other's business plans wherever and whenever possible. further comment, but that hadn't been the end of the fight. It had simply moved on to a different battlefield after that. While their lawyers fought it out in court, he and Davenport had taken it to the arena they knew best, doing everything they could to ruin the other's business plans wherever and whenever possible.

Ransom stared at the photo of the two of them together for some time, and then smiled.

"I've got you this time, you arrogant a.s.s. And when I discover the location of the tomb before you, the world will remember Trevor Ransom's name forever. You'll end up being nothing more than a footnote while I bask in all the glory."

15.

It took a day to make all the preparations, but once completed they wasted no time in getting under way. The plan was to travel aboard Davenport's private jet to Moscow, at which point they would transfer to a local charter service that would fly them into Ulaanbaatar, the Mongolian capital. From there they would travel by convoy into the interior, following the directions Annja had decoded from Curran's hidden message.

After the raid, Mason had insisted that she either remain at the estate or, at the very least, change hotels and register under a different name. Annja had decided on the latter option. After doing so, she got a good night's sleep and was up early, ready for what the day would bring. She had a couple of hours before she had to meet Mason at the airport and she spent part of that time reviewing her a.n.a.lysis of Curran's hidden message. The entire expedition depended on a proper interpretation and she was feeling unusually concerned that she get it right.

After an hour's work, she still couldn't find anything wrong with her interpretation. Only one way to find out, she thought. If we don't find anything at that first location, we'll know we're way off. Simple as that.

Annja next turned her attention to a less interesting but equally necessary task-researching Trevor Ransom's background. If he was going to be interfering in their expedition, she wanted to know what he was capable of.

It didn't take her long to discover that he was capable of just about anything. By using a variety of online media databases, she was able to get a bird's-eye view of how the media had covered him over the past few years, and they certainly hadn't cast him in a favorable light. Ruthless Ruthless was a word used fairly often. As was was a word used fairly often. As was uncaring. Vain, determined, arrogant, unkind uncaring. Vain, determined, arrogant, unkind and and visionary visionary were all up there in the top ten, as well, the last from a Chicago columnist who'd reportedly been trying to curry favor for a job opening. were all up there in the top ten, as well, the last from a Chicago columnist who'd reportedly been trying to curry favor for a job opening.

Ransom had flirted with legal trouble over half a dozen of his development projects, but nothing ever came from any of it. Witnesses disappeared or were bought off, doc.u.ments vanished, a judge dismissed a case only to have his oceanfront property renovated by a subsidiary of a subsidiary of a subsidiary of one of Ransom's companies a year later.

The pattern was clear. Ransom usually got what he wanted and not always by the most ethical means. She'd only known Davenport a short time, but from what she knew of him she couldn't imagine him doing business with a man like that. Their rivalry certainly seemed real enough, though, and Annja decided it wouldn't hurt to watch her back during the next few weeks as the search got under way.

She put the laptop away and set about packing for the trip, laying her gear out on the bed first so that she could be sure she had everything she needed. While doing so, Annja picked up the phone and dialed her producer at Chasing History's Monsters, Chasing History's Monsters, Doug Morrell. Doug Morrell.

"Hi, Doug," she said when he answered.

Morrell, however, pretended not to know who was calling.

"Who is this?" he asked, suspiciously.

"You know d.a.m.n well who it is, Doug."

"I know that it sounds like Annja Creed, but it can't be Annja because she's down in the Yucatan getting me this incredibly awesome story on Incan sacrifices to the moon G.o.d, right?"

Annja sighed. "It's Mexico, Doug. I'm in Mexico. You know, that big country right below Texas? And it was the Aztecs who sacrificed people to the sun G.o.d, not the Incas."

"Whatever. As long the special-effects department gets to reenact those sacrifices, I really don't care if they were carried out by aliens."

She heard him suck in a breath suddenly, the way he did when a brilliant idea occurred to him, and she knew whatever was coming next was not going to be good.

She was right.

"Wait a minute!" he cried. "That's it! We can do a story about how the Aztecs were visited by aliens who taught them..." His enthusiasm audibly deflated. "d.a.m.n!" he said. "Forget it. I just remembered that we did that one back in season two."

"Good thing, too," Annja said, with a laugh. "Because there's no way you were going to get me to do a story like that. Besides, I've got something better for you. I'm headed to Mongolia."

"Mongolia? Don't tell me you're finally going to do that story on the abominable snowman I've been begging you for?" His voice practically dripped with excitement.

"Not a chance, Doug. Besides, I said Mongolia, not Tibet."

"Mongolia, Tibet, whatever. I can never keep all those Chinese provinces apart."

Sometimes talking to Doug was an adventure in and of itself, Annja decided. Knowing it wasn't worth the time or the energy that would be needed to explain that Mongolia and Tibet were actually two separate countries, never mind the fact that they weren't part of China at all, Annja simply ignored the statement. Instead, she explained she was on the hunt for the lost tomb of Genghis Khan.

"Genghis Khan? Isn't he the guy who impaled all those Turks on stakes?

"No, that was Vlad Tepes."

"You're killing me here, Annja."

"I'm sure you'll survive," she said dryly. "Besides, did I mention the curse?"

She could almost hear him sitting up straighter. "Curse?"

Okay, so it wasn't really a curse, per se, but she knew she could spin it well enough that he wouldn't notice the difference. "Legend has it that anyone who lays eyes on the Khan's tomb will die quickly and violently. Just like the burial party."

She knew she'd hooked him when he came back with a breathless "What happened to the burial party?"

"They were ambushed after the burial and slaughtered to the last man. Sixty trained Mongol warriors, part of Genghis Khan's elite honor guard. And then those who did the deed paid the same price, so that no one would know just where the Khan was buried."

She told him about the journal and the clues it contained, but didn't mention anything about Davenport or the events at his villa in Mexico City. If she had, she'd never get Doug to pay for anything.

It turned out to be a good strategy. By the time she hung up, she had Doug's approval for the trip, which meant Chasing History's Monsters Chasing History's Monsters would pay her for the time she put in on the project provided she came home with enough of a story to let them st.i.tch together a solid show about the leader of the Mongol horde and the terrible curse attached to his tomb. would pay her for the time she put in on the project provided she came home with enough of a story to let them st.i.tch together a solid show about the leader of the Mongol horde and the terrible curse attached to his tomb.

Not too shabby, Annja thought. Now all she had to do was find the tomb. Piece of cake, right?

She finished packing and then caught a cab to the airport. She met Mason at the entrance to the private terminal and they walked out on the tarmac together to where the plane waited.

Davenport's private jet was a lushly appointed Boeing BBJ with several bedrooms, a fully stocked kitchen and bar and more than enough room for the three of them to stretch out and be comfortable on the long flight to Moscow.

Shortly after take off, Mason asked Annja if she'd had any luck with deciphering the message from Curran's journal.

Annja grinned. "It would be an awfully short trip if I haven't, now wouldn't it?" She dug her laptop out of her backpack, booted it up and then put the text of the hidden message she'd found in Curran's journal on the screen for everyone to see.

Beneath the watchful gaze of the eternal blue heaven The spirit of the warrior points the way To where the blood of the world intertwines And the voice in the earth has its say The sixty brides rode sixty steeds And now rest between the watchful eyes of those who came before In their arms is the truth you seek The way to all that was and more Then climb to the place where Tengri and Gazan meet It is there that the Batur makes his home

Mason looked at the screen and then back at Annja. "I'm glad this makes sense to you, because I have to admit, it's all gibberish to me."

"That makes two of us," Davenport said.

"It actually makes a lot of sense, once you look at it through the eyes of the Mongol warrior who dictated it to Curran, rather than through our own, twenty-first-century perspective," Annja said.

She pointed at the first set of phrases. ""Beneath the watchful gaze of the eternal blue heaven, the spirit of the warrior points the way." Sounds like a bunch of foolishness to us but to a Mongol in the thirteenth century, that's almost as good as Mapquest.

"The eternal blue heaven is another name for their chief deity, Koke Mongke Tengri. The Mongolians had roughly ninety-nine tengri tengri, or heavenly creatures, of which he was the highest, the creator of all things, visible and invisible.

"In essence, that entire first phrase is simply saying that their G.o.d sees all and that he knows where the Khan rests. It is the second phrase in the pair that is the important one and is our first real clue. Remember, the soul of a Mongol warrior did not exist inside the man's body, but in his sulde sulde."