Free The Eye of God by James Rollins

Mongolia.”
    “It sounds like you’ve thought this all out. But I should let you know, there may be a third member of the U.S. team.” He glanced over to Jada. “A civilian who has convinced me her expertise may be needed.”
    “Not a problem. I value Dr. Shaw’s help.”
    He smiled. As usual, Kat had read his mind.
    “Also,” she said, “there is another advantage in making this detour. By working with the monsignor and his mysterious colleague, it offers us the perfect cover story for our search into the restricted Khan Khentii Strictly Protected Area.”
    “Of course,” Painter said, nodding, pleased at her resourcefulness. “They can pose as an archaeological team.”
    “Exactly. Especially if the monsignor would be willing to venture to Mongolia with us—as it seems we have a common goal.”
    Saving the world . . .
    “Then let’s get things rolling,” Painter said. “Put a call in to Gray and get his team moving.”
    Kat sighed, her irritation plain. “I would if I could reach him . . .”

4
    November 18, 2:02 A . M . CST
    Macau, People’s Republic of China
    The Casino Lisboa had become ground zero for World War III. Or at least it sounded that way to Gray from inside the barricaded VIP room. The initial spats of suppressed gunfire had escalated into a full-out firefight in the hallway.
    More blasts echoed in the distance.
    Inside the room, Gray crouched behind their makeshift barricade in front of the door. With Kowalski’s help, he’d manhandled the upended baccarat table and blocked the only way inside. Seichan had slid one of the red-silk sofas to further brace their fortification. The only other way out was the narrow window, but it was a straight four-story drop through the dark to the asphalt pavement below.
    Across the room, Dr. Hwan Pak huddled in the far corner. His self-satisfied elation at his betrayal had turned to terror. Plainly something had gone wrong with his plan. The Duàn zhī Triad’s attempted ambush had run into a snag. Gray had initially hoped it was hotel security thwarting the attack, but as the fighting grew in volume and severity, including spats of assault rifles and the chugging rattle of machine guns, he suspected this was a gangland turf war.
    And apparently we’re the prize.
    Gray knew their barricade would not last forever. Someone would get the upper hand. Proving this assumption, a shotgun blast tore a fist-sized hole through the door.
    “Now or never, Kowalski!” Gray yelled.
    “You try doing this when your pants keep falling down!”
    The large man crouched on his knees in the middle of the floor as Gray and Seichan kept their backs to the sofa, using its bulk as shelter.
    Kowalski had stripped off his belt and positioned it in a circle on the floor, cinching the buckle in place and affixing a radio receiver to it. Kowalski was Sigma’s demolitions expert. While they couldn’t risk bringing weapons to China, Kowalski had traveled with an ace up his sleeve. Or in this case, laced through his belt.
    The high-yield detonation cord had been developed by DARPA. It was sealed in a tube of carbon graphene, making the explosive inside undetectable to airport screening processes.
    “All set,” Kowalski said and rolled back to join them, dragging a chair behind him.
    “What are you doing?” Pak called over to them.
    The three of them crowded behind the chair.
    “Fire in the hole!” the big man yelled and pressed the transmitter in his hand.
    The blast rocked the room, ringing Gray’s head like a struck bell. Smoke billowed. For a moment, the firefight outside halted as all parties froze at the sudden explosion.
    “Go!” Gray yelled, shoving the chair aside.
    He prayed the detonation cord had done its job. Otherwise, they were out of luck, as they’d blown Kowalski’s only supply of explosives.
    Ahead, the fiery smoldering of burned carpeting glowed through the smoke. A crater had been blasted in the floor—or rather, through the floor. The larger