warriors.
“Heil Hitler,” Jake whispered.
“Seriously, dude, this isn’t cool. You need help, man.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Mackenzie, I’m one of the few sane people on this planet.”
“But you lied,” Rominy said. “About everything.”
“Not everything. I did save you from dying with your car. But I knew it was wired to explode. I did lie about who I am, but I didn’t lie about who you are, and taught you more about yourself than you ever knew. I didn’t tell you everything about what I was looking for, but I was absolutely sincere in bringing you to Tibet. I needed your DNA, Rominy, and you can feel satisfied you played a role in history.”
“There were never any skinheads chasing us on the freeway, were there? You pretended, and shoved my head down, and fired that shot through the window yourself. With that pistol.”
“Very good. I used a silencer. How did you know?”
“I found the bullet casing behind the seat.”
“Ah. I looked for it several times.”
“But you needed the safety deposit box. You needed me for that.”
“That, and your blood. You are the correct descendant of the one who apparently sealed this chamber.”
“You came for that rod like we talked about on the plane?”
“That rod, or staff, is a necessary first step in reconstituting Shambhala. As you’ve seen, the original city is quite wet, and even if we did have scuba equipment, I’m sure seventy years of immersion hasn’t helped whatever machinery is down there. But science has advanced a great deal since 1938, and some of us are prepared to become Shambhalans ourselves. You have to understand that conventional history is a monstrous distortion of the evolutionary goals of National Socialism. Now we can finish what we started, and when we do, our species will realize its potential.”
“Finish the Holocaust?” Sam asked.
“Finish purification, once we regain power. End global warming, stop population growth by the wrong people, and make room for the right. All it takes is organization, discipline, and will.”
“Barrow, listen to yourself,” Sam groaned. “Hitler couldn’t do it with most of Europe under his boot. Germany’s gone liberal. It’s too late.”
“On the contrary, it is finally time. The pair of you can take satisfaction in playing a role in the greatest experiment since the Manhattan Project.”
“Jake, please,” Rominy pleaded. “This makes no sense. If there was really Vril, wouldn’t scientists have found it by now?”
“What’s Vril?” Sam asked.
“This fantasy power source. He thinks Shambhala used it. But the city is gone, Jake. Drowned. Hitler lost the war. Please put the gun down.”
“The resurrection will begin in the Camelot of the SS, my dear. Beyond that, I think the details are over your head. You already know more than is good for you, or rather me.”
“So you’re going to kill me?”
“There’s one other thing I didn’t lie about: I was falling in love with you, even as I used you. You’re pretty, you’re smart, and you’re more than just a good lay.”
She was shaking with fear and fury. “What a flatterer you are.”
“I’m not comfortable shooting you. Instead, I’m going to have you step inside that chamber there.”
“If you shut the door we’ll suffocate,” Sam said.
“Not if the nuns find you in time. So the answer to your question, Rominy, is no. I’m not a murderer.”
But he was crazy. So Rominy lunged.
Her goal was the knife or gun, but her target was simply Jake Barrow, all the lies he’d told and all the manipulations he’d fostered. Her vision had gone red, furious at herself and furious at him, furious for letting herself stay off-balance while this maniac led her like a sheep. The fury consumed her; she didn’t know anger and loathing could be so great. So she sprang with rage she didn’t know she was capable of, and struck with explosive frustration. Jake pitched back in surprise, one hand on his knife and the other holding the gun, and they both went over, hitting the stone floor hard.
“Get him, Sam!” she screamed. She clawed at Jake’s face.
Then the pistol went off, a pop, and she hesitated for just a fraction of a second.
The butt of the gun struck her temple, and her vision blurred.
Meanwhile, Sam Mackenzie was thrown back hard, grunting. “Jesus fuck! He shot me!” He sounded unbelieving.
Barrow twisted and threw Rominy off-he was strong as an animal-and leaped up to kick her in the stomach. She was gutted of wind.
“That was really stupid,” he snarled. “Now you’ve killed your friend.”
Curling in agony, she twisted to look. Sam had been shoved by the bullet against the back wall of the chamber and had slid down, his mouth gasping for air. The front of his shirt had a spreading red splotch. Her eyes blurred with tears, a torment of fury, pain, remorse, and helplessness.
Barrow lifted her like a sack of potatoes and pitched her into the little chamber against Sam, who yelped with pain. Then he grabbed the oddly translucent staff and stepped outside.
“Unfortunately for you, your blood doesn’t open the chamber from the inside. There’s no lock there.” He clicked the staff against the edge of the portal and it began to slowly slide shut. He held the pistol on her. “I do care for you, Rominy-I’ve enjoyed our time together-so I really don’t want to shoot you. I think this is better closure.”
“Don’t trap me here!” she screamed. “I’d rather die!”
“Too late.”
The portal slammed shut.
They were locked in total blackness.
44
Shambhala, Tibet
September 20, Present Day
J ake Barrow trudged to the top of the stairs-he couldn’t trot at this altitude-and pounded on the temple door to be let back into the nunnery. There was no latch on his side. He had enough C4 plastic explosive to blow his way out if necessary, and the pistol to cow the nuns, but the last thing he wanted was a running retreat from a mob of angry Buddhist women. A massacre would make it hard to escape Tibet. He had what he’d come for, and with Shambhala swamped there could be no more investigation until The Fellowship triumphed. Best now to slip quietly away to the Land Cruiser and head to Germany.
He waited impatiently for what seemed like an eon but was probably only a minute, and then there was a clank, a squeal, and the door creaked open. Even the dim light of the temple seemed bright after the gloom of the descending stairway.
“Mr. Barrow.” Amrita bowed. “Did you find what you hoped?”
“I think so, but there’s been an accident, sister.” He was a good actor, and trusted that his face showed appropriate concern. “Rominy and Sam are trying to open some kind of door, but Sam’s hurt. Rominy is looking after him while I fetch our first-aid kit from the Land Cruiser. Are there some young nuns you could send to help?”
Amrita’s eyes fixed on the staff. “You found your desire.”
“Yes. But Sam is more important.”
“Perhaps we could use your new rod to help make a litter?”
“I’m afraid the ancient glass might break.”
“Ah. You’ll share your discovery with the Chinese authorities?”
“Of course.” He smiled to mask his impatience. “Please, Sam is in pain. I’ve got to get some pills.” These shaven-headed women were loopy as loons with religious mysticism and thwarted desire. It shouldn’t be hard to lie
