The Mongol's Coffin by Elaine Isaak

Author:Elaine Isaak [Ambrose, E. Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Indie Author Project

Chapter Forty-Six

Jin's phone buzzed and he woke instantly, eyes staring at the ceiling. Yang must have finished the American. Excellent. It buzzed again, and Jin frowned. That was the wrong tone. He tapped the line open.

"How is my brilliant husband?" a voice purred.

"Trying to sleep. Have you been drinking?"

"There is little peace without you here." A clink and a swallow. "Mingbao brought home a perfect test today."

"Yesterday," Jin corrected with a glance at the clock. Nearly dawn.

"He is so like you. So smart. Was she like me?"

That stung, a probing blow from a beloved adversary. Jin deliberately misunderstood. "She will be. She will be beautiful, graceful and kind." Kind. Did Chunhua even know when she was being cruel? Did she mean to be? Jin schooled his voice to sweetness. "But drinking could hurt her, darling, you know that. Please don't do it again."

The decisive rap of a glass set sharply down. "This is the day that I drink—the only day I drink. You know that. Someone should celebrate her birthday."

He did not ask whose, but closed his eyes, centering himself. Could she possibly know the truth? So many things would have to go wrong, to be revealed, for that to happen. Did he even know the truth himself? Since Guo's intrusion, he dared not ask. "Yes," he told his wife. "Someone should celebrate."

"Will you? Where ever it is that you are, doing your great work, will you honor our daughter?"

His great work. Today might indeed be the culmination of that work, and she asked him for this. His anger was fleeting. She asked for so little. She had been so patient, so charming with his colleagues, so self-sacrificing for their son, for his career. "I will find a way, Chunhua."

She sighed, sounding almost happy, and hung up. Jin clicked off the line. Curious, that an archaeologist should so focus on the future, while his wife gazed into the past. When the new baby came, she would join him in today, he was certain of it.

Jin rose and dressed in light clothing, then moved through a series of poses, taking them slowly, then falling into the rhythm, faster and faster: Kick, strike, slide forward, strike again, block, kick, kick harder. Honor her. Strike, kick, faster, until his movement was a blur, too fast for him to think and move, too smooth for him to remember and strike at the same time. Celebrate her birthday. The day that nearly killed his wife, and his marriage. Slide, block, dodge, slam that fist forward. From that day to this one, he fought to keep them, those things most dear to him. Chunhua sacrificed for him, for their future. And now, that future arrived. Kick, duck, lunge.

The door of his hotel room swung open. Lunge, thrust. His fist shot out, his arm like iron aimed at the throat of Captain Guo.

"I heard movement. I thought you were being attacked," the captain said. His hand gripped his sidearm, but had not yet drawn the weapon.

Jin could have disarmed him in an instant.

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