“So why did he go on the expedition?”

“I don’t know, but what you found in the cave-this Golden Man business-is a strong possibility. Unless King was lying, it sounds like soon after Lewis King immigrated to the U.S. he started his globe-trotting.”

“Maybe he found something on Himmler’s expedition that piqued his interest,” Sam speculated.

“Something he didn’t want to end up in the hands of the Nazis,” Remi added. “He kept it to himself, bided his time through the war, then picked up his work again years later.”

“The question is,” Rube said, “why is Charlie King picking up where his father left off? From what we know about him, he never showed the slightest interest in his father’s work.”

“Maybe it’s the Theurang,” Sam said. “Maybe to him, it’s just another fossil to sell.”

“You could be right. If the description of this thing is even remotely accurate, it would be worth a fortune.”

Remi asked, “Rube, do we know whether the Nazi accusations against Lewis ever impacted Charlie?”

“Not that I could find. I think his success speaks for itself. And given how ruthless he is, I doubt anyone has the guts to bring it up anymore.”

“That’s about to change,” Sam said. “Time to push King Charlie’s comfort zone.”

They hung up, talked strategy for a few minutes, then Sam dialed King’s direct line. The man himself picked up on the first ring. “King.”

“Mr. King. Sam Fargo here.”

“I was wonderin’ when you’d get around to callin’. Your pretty wife with you?”

“Safe and sound,” Remi replied sweetly.

“It seems our partnership has hit a rocky patch,” King said. “My kids tell me you ain’t playin’ ball.”

“We’re playing ball,” Sam replied. “Just a different game than you are. Charlie, did you have Frank Alton kidnapped?”

“Kidnapped? Why would I do somethin’ like that?”

“That’s not an answer,” Remi pointed out.

“I sent Frank Alton out there to do a job for me. He got himself in over his head, pissed off the wrong people. I have no idea where he is.”

“Another nonanswer answer,” Sam said. “Okay, let’s move on. All you have to do is listen. We’ve got what you’re after-”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re not listening. We’ve got what you’re after-what your dad spent his lifetime hunting for. And, as you probably guessed, we paid a visit to your concentration camp in the Langtang Valley.”

“I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

“We collected thousands of photos-mostly of documents we found laying around in an office trailer-but a few of them of your wife, or concubine, or whatever you call her in the privacy of your Gulfstream. As luck would have it, when we took the pictures, she was murdering one of your employees. We’ve got a picture of his face as well.”

Charlie King did not respond for a long ten seconds. Finally he sighed. “I think you’re fulla horse crap, Sam, but clearly somethin’s got you excited. You’ve got my attention.”

“First things first. Release Frank-”

“I told you I don’t-”

“Shut up. Release Frank Alton. When we get a call from him saying he’s safe and unharmed in the comfort of his home, we’ll meet with Russell and Marjorie and reach an understanding.”

“Now who’s sayin’ a lot without sayin’ much?” King replied.

“It’s the only deal you’re going to get,” Sam replied.

“Sorry, friend, I’m goin’ to decline. I think you’re bluffin’.”

“Suit yourself,” Sam said, and hung up.

He laid the phone on the coffee table. He and Remi looked at each other. She asked, “Odds?”

“Sixty-forty it rings in under a minute.”

She smiled. “No bet.”

At the fifty-second mark, Sam’s phone trilled. He let it go off three more times, then picked up. Charlie King said, “You’d make a decent poker player, Sam Fargo. Glad we could reach an understanding. I’ll make some calls and see what I can find out about Frank Alton. Can’t promise nothin’, of course, but-”

“If we don’t hear from him in twenty-four hours, the deal is off.”

Charlie King was silent for a few beats. Then, “Keep your phone nearby.”

Sam disconnected.

Remi asked, “What if King thinks we’ve got the evidence with us?”

“He knows better than that.”

“Do you think he’ll follow through?”

Sam nodded. “King’s smart enough to have insulated himself. Whoever took Frank probably made sure their faces were hidden. There’ll be no trail leading back to King, so he’s got nothing to lose and everything to gain by going along.”

“Then why do you look so worried?” Remi asked her husband.

“Do I?”

“You’ve got the squinty-eyed thing going on.”

Sam hesitated.

“Tell me, Sam.”

“We just got done beating up on one of the world’s richest men, a sociopathic control freak who got where he is by crushing his enemies. He’ll release Frank, but something tells me King is sitting in his office planning a counterattack.”

HOUSTON, TEXAS

Eight thousand miles away, Charles King was doing just that.

After hanging up the phone, he paced his office, staring straight ahead but seeing nothing beyond his rage. Muttering to himself, King stalked to his office window and stared out over the city. To the west, the sun was setting.

“Fine, Fargos,” he rasped. “Round goes to you. Enjoy it. Ain’t gonna happen again.” He walked to his desk and stabbed the Intercom button. “Marsha, get me Russell and Marjorie.”

“Yes, Mr. King, one moment.” Thirty seconds passed, then, “Dad-”

“Shut up and listen. Is Marjorie there?”

“I’m here, Daddy.”

“Zhilan?”

“Yes, Mr. King.”

“What in blazes do you three idiots think you’re doin’ out there! The Fargos just called me and whipped me from pillar to post. They say they got pictures of you, Zee, killin’ some local at the Langtang site. What went on there?”

Russell answered, “I got a call this morning from the head of site security. He said they found a suspicious vehicle and raised the alarm. They found one man unconscious, but nothing appeared to be missing.”

“How’d he get knocked out?”

“They’re not sure. He may have fallen.”

“Bull! Did we have any pendin’ shipments?”

“Two trucks,” replied Marjorie. “As soon as the alarm was raised, they were evacuated by Colonel Zhou’s men. It’s standard procedure, Daddy.”

“Don’t lecture me, girl. Did the trucks arrive at the transfer point?”

Russell replied, “We haven’t gotten confirmation yet, but allowing for delays-”

“You’re assumin’. Don’t assume. Pick up the phone and find those trucks.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Zee, what’s this about a killin’? Is it true?”

“Yes. One of the workers was caught stealing. I had to set an example. His body has already been disposed of.”

King paused, then grunted. “Okay, then. Good work. As for you two morons . . . The Fargos told me they’ve got the Golden Man.”

“How?” Marjorie asked. “Where?”

“They’ve got to be lying,” Russell added.

“Maybe so, but this kind of stuff is their bailiwick. It’s why we brought ’em into this. Guess we underestimated them. Figured Alton would be enough to keep ’em in line.”

Marjorie said, “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Daddy.”

“Shut up. We gotta assume they’re tellin’ the truth. They want Alton set loose. Is there any way he could’ve seen anything or could identify anybody?”

Zhilan answered. “I looked into it when I got here, Mr. King. Alton knows nothing.”

“Okay. Go rescue him. Feed ’im, clean ’im up, and put ’im on the Gulfstream. The Fargos said as soon as Alton’s home, they’ll meet with Russell and Marjorie and talk about handin’ over the whatchamacallit.”

“We can’t trust them, Daddy,” said Russell.

“I know that, dummy. Just put Alton on the jet and leave the rest to me. The Fargos wanna play hardball? They’re about to see what real hardball feels like.”