The Veyron’s eight litre, quad-turbocharged engine growled like an angry monster as it pulled up outside the garage and then a moment later the Aventador swerved in behind it. Both drivers killed their engines at the same time and then climbed out of their cars into the silence of the desert.
Caleb Jackson shook his head as he walked over to the man in the shades and raised a beefy, tattooed arm to remove his own pair of Wiley’s sunglasses.
“Fuck me, if it isn’t Jed Mason…”
Mason pulled off his shades and returned the smile. “In that case I’m glad to say it is Jed Mason.”
Caleb laughed, but the smile quickly faded. “Been too long, Jed.”
Mason nodded.
Virgil and Mason shook hands. “I was glad when you called, Jed.”
“How’s Amy?” Mason asked.
“Like any six week-old girl,” Virgil said, beaming with pride. “She keeps me and Jen up nights but she’s cute as a button. But hey — what’s this all about?”
Mason said, “Wait till Mr Risk and his Honda arrive and I’ll let you know.”
The highly-tuned Honda turned into the property at last, steam pouring from its radiator grille. Milo Risk climbed out, ran a hand over his hair and joined them.
“How’s it going, all?” Milo said.
Caleb raised a hand. “Howdy, Milo. What the hell are you doing here? I couldn’t believe it when I saw you in the mirror.”
“He asked me to meet him here,” the young IT specialist said, jutting a smooth, untanned chin at Mason. “All cool, V?”
“Just dandy,” Virgil said. “Saw your little problem back there on the road. Too bad.”
Milo managed a stoic shrug. “I saw you two are still measuring each other’s dicks with these cars of yours. You deserved the humiliation.”
“He has a point,” Mason said. “The car thing is bordering on an obsession, Cal.”
The kid had a wide grin on his young face. “Oh, man… your faces when I hit the gas on the Honda.”
“Sleeper car,” Caleb rumbled. “The last refuge of the scoundrel.”
“The techno-geek, more like,” Virgil said.
Milo laughed. “You know what they say, Virgil — better a techno-geek than a library nerd.”
Virgil looked confused. “I’m a polymath, anyway — do they say that?”
Caleb broke things up. “Why are you here, Jed?”
“You know why.”
Caleb looked up at the sky before locking his eyes back on Mason. “I thought we agreed no more jobs?”
“We did.”
Milo looked at Mason. “Big?”
“Bigger than anything we ever did before.”
Caleb sighed. “I’ve heard it all before, besides — I have another job on the horizon.”
Mason cocked his head. “Another job?”
“Sure — is it so hard to believe that someone other than the great Jed Mason might want to employ me?”
“Not at all. Who’s the idiot?”
“Old friend of mine who used to work for the NSA.”
“Used to?”
Caleb kicked a stone across the yard, put his hands in his jeans pockets and scratched a line in the dirt with his boot heel. “You might say he’s trying to set up on his own.”
“And when is this job?”
“I’m expecting a call any minute now.”
Mason sighed. “Come on, Cal. Just for old times’ sake? If we pull this off we’re all set for life — and our kids too. That’s presuming you can find a woman stupid enough to hook up with you.”
“That big, huh?”
Mason nodded. “What about you, Milo?”
“I never turn down a pay check.”
“Virgil?”
“I don’t know… I have Jen and Amy to think about now.”
“Nice Lamborghini,” Mason said. “You buy it with money you made with my team, or money you made pissing about with poker?”
Virgil looked down at his dusty boots.
Caleb crossed his arms and tried to look casual. “What’s the job?”
“Asset extraction.”
“The best damned asset recovery crew in the world,” Virgil said, briefly looking up from the ground before returning his eyes to his boots again. “So I kinda worked that out already, Jed,” he said. “That’s sort of what RAIDERS is: Rapid and Incognito Deployment, Extraction and Rescue Service. I need some detail. What are we talking about here — stolen jewels, kidnapped royalty?”
“One of the most famous objects in the world has been stolen, but no more details until you’re on board. You know the way I roll.”
“Come to think of it,” Caleb said, a broad white smile spreading on his tanned face. “I am kinda bored racing cars.”
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” Mason said. “Virgil?”
Virgil looked up from his boots. “If you’re putting the team back together, does that mean she will also be joining us?”
Mason nodded. “Sure.”
Caleb laughed.
Milo sighed.
Virgil pretended to cry.
She leaped over the temple’s ridge tile, twisting in mid-air as she somersaulted down to the gable roof. Landing like a panther, the setting sun flashed in her eyes as she regained her balance and scanned for the enemy. High above the temple, the Japanese mountains rose up into a salmon-pink sky.
From up here on the roof of the Hall of Buddha she could see nearly the entire monastery, from the sōmon gate in the west to the sōbō where the monks lived. She scanned the entire site and then she saw one, scuttling along the roofed portico passage which connected the Zen rock garden with the Dharma hall. It looked like it could be Shen, or maybe Shintaro. It didn’t matter: whoever it was had let his guard slip and now she had found him.
She climbed down the pagoda roof, one tier at a time until she was close enough to lower herself onto a lower sloping roof belonging to the belfry, and then shimmied down a drain pipe until she was on the ground. She could see it was definitely Shintaro now, and he was weaving in and out of some pine trees, diligently cloud-pruned by her very own hands.
She ran with the grace and speed of a leopard in pursuit of the fleeing monk. With the thrill of the hunt electrifying her blood, she pounded after the man, determined to bring him down and improve her personal best. He was heading toward the karakado, a gate in the west of the temple compound with an arched roof.
She paused for breath. Darker now, and the sun was sinking into the cypress forest to the west of the temple. She sprinted again, feeling the warm air rushing into her lungs as she hunted down her prey. She was almost on him when the head priest, or Jushoku, swung the wooden bell hammer in his right hand and struck the enormous suspended gong. The sound rippled out over the compound and everyone froze where they stood.
The hunt was over.
Zara Dietrich walked over to the Jushoku and bowed. “Why have you stopped the games?” she said in perfect Japanese.
The Jushoku returned the bow but said nothing. Instead, he pointed his chin over her shoulder. She turned around to see nothing less than three ghosts.
With her guard dropped, one of the monks lunged toward her, but the Jushoku clapped his hands together. “Stop!” he said in stern Japanese. The man froze on the spot, gave a shallow bow and took a step back. The other monks followed his lead and backed away from the American woman dressed in black robes.
Now, Zara walked over to the ghosts, shaking her head gently in disbelief.
One of the ghosts spoke. “Zara Dietrich,” he said. He was still leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. “Fancy meeting you here…”
Zara wiped the sweat from her forehead and walked closer to him.
He pushed off the wall to meet her. Caleb and Milo stayed back.