Page 75 of Circle of Death
The kids are gone, soccer balls and all.
All that’s left are four filthy, skittering rats.
CHAPTER 91
SOMETIMES FLIGHT IS smarter than fight. I’ve got no appetite for another rodent battle. Neither does Maddy.
In only took two seconds for us to shape-shift back into falcons, leaving the critters behind on the factory floor. Now we’re soaring back over the mountain. From a few hundred feet up, I scan the ground for other factories or storage facilities—anywhere somebody could be building or storing weapons. With Maddy close on my tail, I do a slow loop across the valley. But all I can see are miles of Mongolian steppe, dotted with small huts and goat herds. It’s no use. Time to get back to Margo.
As we swoop down back toward the village, I can see the falconer leading the way out of the foothills, with the bird on his arm and Margo in the saddle behind him.
Batuhan is leading the string of three horses—our horses—each one with a limp body draped over it. As they get closer, I can see villagers lay down their tools and baskets and move toward the procession. The village is tiny. No more than thirty or forty people. As they reach the horses carrying the bodies, I can hear wails rise up into the sky—like a collective banshee howl.
We land at the side of a small yurt and go inside to rematerialize. The second we step out, Margo spots us and runs over. She wraps us both up in a big hug, then pulls back. “Did you find it? What was in the factory?”
“Zip,” says Maddy. That pretty much captures it.
“But the building,” says Margo, “wasenormous.”
I nod. “Right. Enormous—and empty. There was nothing there. The Destroyer is one step ahead of us, just taunting us. Whatever weapon she was building is gone. Either she’s hiding it somewhere else, or it’s already out there in the world, ready to be used.”
“Or it doesn’t exist at all,” says Margo. “Maybe this whole trip was a decoy.”
“Like the World’s Fair,” says Maddy.
The cries of the crowd are getting louder. We all watch as the villagers untie the bodies of the three brothers from the saddles and carry them toward a small tin-roofed hut.
Batuhan walks slowly toward us, his back straight, his fists clenched at his sides.
His face is twisted with anguish and rage. He doesn’t even attempt English. He speaks to me in Mongolian, practically spitting out the words. He wants to know if I found the people who did this—the ones who murdered his brothers. He wants to know if I killed them.
I hold him by the shoulders and look him straight in the eye.“Ügüi. Gekhdee bi khiikh bolno,”I tell him. Meaning,No. But I will.At the moment, it sounds like an empty promise, even to me.
Suddenly the sky begins to rumble and the ground starts to shake. The horses startle and the falcon cowers. I look up as the belly of a huge cargo plane passes overhead, not more than a few hundred feet up. The sound is deafening.
Our ride is here.
CHAPTER 92
New York City
IT’S 6:00 P.M. when the government SUV pulls through the gate and into our driveway. All these different time zones are starting to mess with my circadian rhythm, and putting me in a dark mood. Flying west from Mongolia, we technically gained an entire day, but in every other way, I feel like we’re losing.
Diaz called the plane as soon as we took off. I was embarrassed to tell him that the trip was a bust. We were no closer to finding the super-weapon than we were before we left. At that point, the comms connection dropped. Either that, or Diaz hung up on me. Couldn’t blame him. He hired somebody with mystical super powers and got nothing for it. He probably sees me as nothing but a waste of precious jet fuel.
Jessica and Bando rush out to greet us. Bando yips and wags his tail, begging for a head scratch. Maddy wraps her grandmother up in a tight hug. Jessica turns her head and pushes Maddy away.
“Good Lord!” she says. “You smell like ahorse!”
“Very perceptive, Grandma,” says Maddy. She steps in again, opening her jacket to let the odor waft. “Which breed?”
Jessica holds her nose as Margo comes in behind us. “Take a shower, please! All of you!”
I ask Jessica where Burbank and Jericho are. She holds her breath and points upstairs. I head through the kitchen and up the back staircase. Hopefully, they’ve been checking in on Hawkeye and Tapper’s attempt to track Toor Bayani. Maybe they’re having better luck than I did on my mission.Somethinghas to go right today.
When I walk into the comms room, Burbank and Jericho are huddled over the console. Jericho turns and gives me a quick wave. “Welcome home, boss,” he says.
A pause. Then, “What’s thatstench?”
