Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22 The man in black hated airports. So much waiting, so much security. He looked up. His surveillance had indicated enemy arrival at any minute. But flights were crowded today. Schedules would be disrupted, landings postponed. They could be circling for a long time. Or, heaven forbid, sent to another airport. But Lucians had a way of sneaking up on you, and the man in black was nothing if not patient. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted someone approaching the circular landing pad. An airline employee. He lowered the magnification lens over his sunglasses and waited for a clear frontal view of the face. There. Using the high-res telephoto cam in his

glasses frame, he captured the image, uploading it to his portable surveillance device. He waited .7 seconds for a facial recognition check against the master database. He was a Lucian operative. A Fixer, no doubt. Very well paid these days, as it had become so difficult to infiltrate airlines. The man in black smiled. The two men were waiting for the same arrival. But for very different reasons. A distant familiar noise cut through the airspace above. The Lucian lackey looked up, his face a rigid mask of efficiency. As the man in black began to move forward, a large silk handkerchief came down from behind, in front of his face. His hand darted upward, catching the scarf before it could make contact with his neck. Hermès. Silk. Whirling around like a skater, the man in black lifted the scarf, and with it, the arms of his attacker. He brought the scarf down around the neck of

Alistair Oh. "Arrrgglllchh…" Alistair sputtered. "Alistair," said the man in black, "I would have thought that at your age, with your experience, you would know better than to make such a serious mistake." Dan stood stock-still against the Shaka monument, holding his breath. "Yo, Amy, Dan— Mr. Malusi is looking for you!" came Nellie's panicked voice from the direction of the courtyard-pod door. "Where are you guys?" "I'll take care of this," Amy said to Dan. "I'll go back to the theater and make up some excuse to Mr. Malusi about where you are. Hurry!" She ran to the door. With a soft thump, it shut. Dan made a quick circle around the monument. Where to start? The cactuslike plants were thick and stubbornly hard to move. He yanked the stalks aside as best he could, examining the smooth stone at the base of the monument,

hoping for some hint. Just under the statue of Shaka, the stone was gouged in about three or four places, as if someone had banged it with blunt instruments. A thick shovel could have done that. It was as good a place as any to start. Dan dug in with the blade. The soil was packed thick, but he hacked away, sending up little explosions of dirt. An assegai may have been a great spear, but it was a terrible shovel. Outside he could hear a commotion, a rumble of voices. He plunged harder, a rhythmic chuck… chuck… chuck… echoing ever louder against the surrounding walls. A voice filtered in from outside, growing closer. "I know he is only a boy—but he is a Tomas boy, and I expect a Tomas sense of responsibility!" Mr. Malusi. CHUCK… CHUCK… CHUCK… Sweat dripped into Dan's eyes. It stung. "Can you show me the women's m-m-martial arts?" Amy was saying.

THOCK. Dan stopped and knelt. The arrowhead had hit something solid. He brushed aside loose dirt. This wasn't a root or a rock. It was metal. Dan placed a hand near the assegai blade and steadied the shaft with his other hand, scraping away the dirt until he made out the edges of a square. He dug down the four sides. It seemed like he was cutting through more plant life than soil. The network of roots was so dense it looked like an army of dead snakes. Finally, he shook the thing loose and pulled it out. It was a small metal cube, hinged halfway down and held shut by an ancient, dirt-choked lock. Wiping away the soil, Dan saw the word Shaka carved into the face of the box. He tugged at the lock, but it wouldn't budge. Dan's heart pounded. Churchill's message had said in the ground with Shaka. This had to be it. He stood, scraping the dirt back over the hole. He shoved broken plant shards over the mound,

tamping it all down with his feet. Tossing the assegai into a thicket, he swung his backpack around and opened it. Then he noticed the sharp ridge of the monument's stone base jutting about a half inch from the statue of the hut. If he could bring the lock down on that, hard… Letting his open backpack fall to the ground, he held the box high over his head. He brought it down, but it smacked against the stone, resounding dully in the courtyard. He gritted his teeth and lifted the box again. With a loud grunt, he smashed it downward. The lock smacked against the edge and broke cleanly in two. BWWWOPP! BWWWOPP! BWWWOPP! An alarm sounded. Dan picked up the box and his pack and ran for the door. With a loud clank, it swung open. Mr. Malusi barged in, with Amy and Nellie close behind. "Young man, what on earth are you doing?"