Audibly, a wave of excitement swept through the crowd. Sen’s gracious smile spread even wider. “But before I unveil my beloved treasure, there are people I’d like to thank for making this extraordinary business venture possible, namely my two right-hand men, Chad and Bradley. As well as Chad’s remarkably resourceful, and might I add stunningly beautiful, assistant—”
Staring through the boardroom window, his eyes darting desperately through the crowd, Eden saw the person he was looking for—not hidden in the crowd, but standing directly beside Sen, smiling.
Eden whispered the name at the same moment Sen said it. “—Mya Chan.”
This was the cue for Mya to step forward, smile for her adoring audience, and take the gold cord that dangled from the black curtains around the display case.
“And so,” Sen announced proudly, “as a gesture of my appreciation to the United States, and my faith in a long and prosperous future together, I give you the Eye of Fucanglong.”
With a light, graceful tug on the cord, Mya let the black curtain drop and the audience watched it ripple to the floor. A collective gasp filled the room.
Behind thick glass casing reared a fearsome, fabulous golden dragon, its long slender body looping and spiraling around itself, its claws at the ready, its jaws open wide, and its one diamond eye casting a spell of beauty and awe across the entire room. The diamond, the size of a man’s fist, radiated rays of spectral light that shone on the faces of its adoring spectators.
The giant jewel was astonishing.
It was mesmerizing.
It was perfect.
Everyone was in awe—
—except Eden.
Crashing through the boardroom doors, Eden tore down the stairs from the mezzanine level. His first thought was to get to Zhang Sen and the Professor immediately. His second thought was to find Shane, Jake, and Will and somehow detain Mya Chan. His third thought was—
gunshots!
Crack! Crack-crack!
The crowd jolted.
Knees bent instinctively.
Short, shocked screams escaped a few frightened men and women.
Heads turned to the origin of the sound.
There was smoke near the door, yellow and choking, and a terrible commotion, then the fierce face of a colossal beast began to lash and thrash through the churning, sulfurous air.
The monster’s jaws chomped theatrically.
Bright streamers rippled from its flared nostrils.
Drums began pounding, cymbals crashed, and bells chimed dramatically.
More shots rang out, only they weren’t gunshots at all, but firecrackers exploding on the ground.
Relieved laughter and more sighs of awe swept the crowd, along with sporadic applause, as a shimmering, swirling 30-foot-long Chinese dragon wove a thunderous path through the crowd, arching and swooping and sweeping through the room with the help of half a dozen performers hidden beneath the dragon’s silky, colorful skin.
Beneath the mezzanine stairs, Bradley Zhang looked on in trepidation. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Will saw the unease in his eyes and grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s find the others. Fast.”
Across the room, Shane seemed to share the same uncertainty as Bradley.
“What’s going on?” the Professor asked him.
“A Chinese dragon show,” Shane explained over the gonging bells and the hiss and spit of firecrackers.
He grabbed the Professor’s arm with one hand and took hold of Sen’s shoulder with the other. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Zhang, I suggest we move back.” Slowly he pulled away, leading the two elderly gentlemen away from the encased golden dragon with the diamond eye, all the while keeping his own eye on the theater dragon.
He did not see Mya slip away into the crowd.
Nor did he see Eden, desperately trying to push his way through.
Jake, meanwhile, was standing 20 feet away from Shane and the Professor, positioned between the glass display case and the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. His eyes instinctively zoned out the crowd and the dancing dragon and instead spotted Eden pushing and shoving his way through the packed room. Eden, too, caught sight of Jake and was trying to call out to him. But the one thing Jake couldn’t block out was the sound of the party.
Eden was pointing over people’s heads, shouting in vain.
Jake followed Eden’s fingers across the room.
All he saw was more and more guests clapping and laughing.
Then he saw the sliver of a red dress disappear through the crowd.
Suddenly, from behind Eden, the dancing dragon reared up, opened its jaws wide, and, with an almighty thunder-clap of drums, six Chinese performers—dressed in black, wearing black face masks—threw the silky beast off their backs.
The crowd’s first response was to emphatically applaud the artists.
Will, however, instantly sensed danger and pulled Bradley back from the scene.
Shane tightened his grip on Sen and the Professor.
Eden saw the alarm in Jake’s eyes and turned as the long, shimmering skin of the dragon costume parachuted to the floor. From that moment on, everything Eden saw seemed to happen in slow motion—as though he was counting down the last seconds of his life, carefully taking account of each and every terrifying moment.
The black-dressed performers acknowledged the applause by raising their hands in the air. Then, reaching behind their shoulders, each pulled out a Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun from the holster strapped to his back.
Suddenly the applause turned to screaming—
—and the sound of automatic gunfire began.
Sparks flew and plaster rained down as bullets sprayed the ceiling and punctured the walls. People ran, fell, shrieked, cried, and tripped over one another in a frenzied panic. Three of the performers began blasting open the many display cases, scooping out tiaras and necklaces and shoving them in pouches sewn into their costumes. The other three performers had their targets carefully chosen.
Shane saw the first performer turn his machine gun on Sen. As the attacker squeezed the trigger, Shane wrapped one arm around Sen and one around the Professor and threw both men to the ground, covering them with his body. Bullets whistled through the air above his head, one clipping his ear, another shredding the collar of his tuxedo jacket.
At the same time, the second performer’s gun jolted powerfully in his arms as he fired a trail of bullets in Bradley’s direction. But Will already had the young Chinese businessman in his arms and was sailing toward the floor, bullets splintering the steps to the mezzanine.
The third performer crouched low, placed his weapon on the ground, and pulled a small silver cylinder from his belt. He pressed a single button on the top of the device, then rolled it across the floor toward the display case containing the diamond-eyed dragon.
Jake was trying to keep as many people as he could low to the ground and push them toward the door.
He did not see the silver cylinder roll across the floor and come to rest three feet in front of the display case—and directly between his feet.
Eden, however, caught sight of the glinting device. Frantically he pushed through the crying crowd and shouted at the top of his voice:
“
Bomb!
”
Jake turned in time to see Eden barrel directly into him, thumping him in the chest with his shoulder, knocking Jake clear off his feet and sending him through the air. He landed with a bone-crunching crash that belted the wind out of him, opened his eyes to see Eden now over the bomb, and then—a white flash and a sonic shock wave swept out over the room, knocking everyone to the floor.
Every sheet of glass, from the huge windows overlooking the city to the bulletproof display case containing the Eye of Fucanglong, shattered into tiny shining shards that filled the air.
Jake momentarily covered his head as smashed glass shot through the air like missiles, then glanced up to see Eden, soaring across the room away from the source of the explosion, propelled by the shock wave. He was flying helplessly toward the shattered windows overlooking the city.
Jake jumped to his feet, feeling the flying glass lacerate his face.
He reached desperately for Eden as the Brazilian’s stunned body sailed through the air. He stretched out his arm as far as he could, his fingers brushing Eden’s sleeve, trying to grip his cuff, his hand, anything.
But he just couldn’t reach him.
Unconscious, Eden Santiago flew through the air, hit the floor an inch from the shattered window, then slid over the edge, into the dark night.
Wide-eyed, horrified, Jake watched Eden vanish out the window of the 52nd floor.
“
Nnooooooo!!
”
His heart nearly burst in his chest as Jake scrambled for the edge.
Still shielding the Professor and a horrified Sen, Shane lifted his head and saw Jake charging for the shattered window.
“Jake?” he called out, seeing the panic on Jake’s face, fearing the worst. But before Shane could lift himself up, the butt of a submachine gun connected with the back of his skull. As blackness quickly clouded his vision, he felt the Professor and Sen being forcibly dragged out from underneath him. Shane reached out in vain to grab hold of them both, but with another blow to the head he slumped to the ground unconscious.
“Professor!” Will gasped on the other side of the room, hurriedly pulling himself to his feet as he saw one of the black-suited performers pull a struggling Professor Fathom and a trembling Sen to their feet.
“The diamond!” Will heard Bradley breathe. He glanced at the golden dragon in time to see one of the performers pluck out the Eye of Fucanglong. The masked thief took the giant diamond in his fist, then turned and ordered his team of attackers to the elevator, along with their hostages: Sen and the Professor.
Will leaped to his feet and began to charge but was met with another barrage of gunfire from the submachine guns.
He covered his head and slid back to the floor.
More screams and cries filled the room.
By the time he looked up, the elevator doors were closing, with all six performers and the two old men inside.
Will glanced back at Bradley, clambering to his feet. “Are you okay?”
Bradley nodded.
“Stay here,” Will ordered. He sprang across the room, leaping over the wounded and wailing, and dropped to his knees by Shane’s side. The Texan’s short blond hair was matted with blood. Will felt for a pulse and sighed with relief when he found one.
But his relief was short-lived.
“
Will!
”
The young college quarterback looked up and saw Jake, wild-eyed, standing at the edge of the shattered window.
“Oh, God!” Will whispered.
He bolted for the window, bounding so fast across the room that Jake had to stop him from going over the edge himself.
On the balcony of the 47th floor was the body of Eden Santiago, lying on his back, limbs tangled, a dark pool of blood spreading quickly across the tiles beneath him.
The air escaped Will’s lungs in a mortified, defeated “No.”
“I have to get to him,” Jake blurted, a tear already streaking down his face.
“I’m coming with you,” Will said, his desperate, pounding, frightened heart now breaking.
“No—the Professor. You have to go after the Professor.”
Will and Jake rammed through the exit doors. Jake bounded down the stairs five at a time. Will slid down the metal banisters, crashing at the bottom of each flight, then jumping to his feet and doing the same again and again, speeding his way to the next level.
At the 47th floor, Jake slammed against the exit door, ignoring the alarm that sounded. He glanced back at Will, and for a moment Will stopped, heart thumping, eyes watering. Neither man said a word. Then Jake was gone.
Will continued his lightning descent all the way down the concrete stairwell of the Zhang Diamond Tower till he hit the ground floor, snapped open the emergency bar on the exit, and shouldered his way out the door, tumbling into an alley.
The first thing he heard was a commotion, a hundred feet down the alley.
A Chinese chef was in a rage on the ground, rolling around on his back, trying to clamber to his feet while hurling abuse through the open door of a restaurant’s kitchen. Several petrified kitchen hands poured out through the door and helped their angry, shouting boss to his feet.
Swiftly Will followed the trail of chaos. He swept past the chef and the flustered kitchen hands and charged straight through the open door of the kitchen.
Under the bright lights of the kitchen, pushing against the current of terrified dishwashers and squealing waitresses all trying to escape the restaurant, Will raced as fast as he could, charging headlong through the swinging doors into the restaurant.