The Forbidden Temple Read Online Free PDF

As Luca swore and scrambled for some paper napkins, he heard his train being announced over the Tannoy. He should really get on it – do what Bill was doing and go home. Take a long hot bath, empty his clothes into the laundry basket, and banish all thoughts of fantasy mountains.
    The only problem was that he felt like doing exactly the opposite. And there was only one person he knew who would understand.
    Breaking into a genuine smile for the first time in a couple of weeks, Luca tossed a couple of pounds on to the table, shouldered his rucksack, and set off in the direction of a phone-box.

Chapter 5
    FROM A DISTANCE, the only indication of the two military jeeps was the dense cloud of dust trailing behind them. The two vehicles bounced over the pitted road in close convoy, engines revving high to cope with the altitude.
    Second Lieutenant Chen Zhi had been squashed uncomfortably on the battered passenger seat for three hours. His olive green military uniform was grey with dust and he sat awkwardly, his heavy frame listing over and forward as if trying to see something just below the jeep’s outside wing mirror. In truth, all he was trying to do was relieve some of the mounting pressure from being jammed in the same position for so long. His lower back ached, and with each new pothole he could feel his whole body jar from the contact.
    As he stared out through the windscreen Chen was caught between willing the journey over and the dread of what he knew was waiting for him at the other end. The front wheel bounced over a hole again, connecting with the wheel arch of the jeep and sending everything on the dashboard flying into the air. Chen looked across at the driver, amazed by how many potholes he was actually hitting, but remained silent. The noise from the strained engine was too loud for him to speak.
    Instead, he reached into the top pocket of his shirt and pulled out a leather wallet. Behind his own picture and official military ID wasa strip of four photos taken in a train station booth in Lhasa. The picture showed his ten-year-old son sitting on his mother’s knee, with Chen himself kneeling behind them awkwardly in civilian clothes. His son was trying to wriggle free, while his wife looked over her shoulder as if to ask for his help. He wondered why he’d always liked this photo so much. Perhaps it was because it felt real and spontaneous – a lifetime away from what he had now become.
    The photos had been taken four years ago, before he had even joined the service.
    Amongst everything that had changed, the one constant was that on the rare weekends when he had some time off, he still took his son past that same train station on his way to play Mah Jong. The other men never said anything about the youngster tagging along. Then again, it was hardly as if anyone would have dared. They all knew Chen was in the Public Security Bureau now – and PSB were untouchable.
    He sensed a new movement and turned to see the driver craning his neck forward over the steering wheel. Hammering the gearstick hard into third, the jeep jumped forward as the engine took the brunt of the braking and their speed slowed. Up ahead, a small outcrop of houses stood baking in the midday sun.
    They pulled up behind the lead jeep. Chen could see the other soldiers quickly leave their vehicles and fan out across the tiny village square. All of them brandished rifles on their shoulders. The locals melted back into doorways, their eyes wide.
    Chen watched through the streaked glass of the windshield. Despite the long hours and the stifling heat of the jeep, all he wanted to do was stay where he was.
    Beijing must have known how much he would hate this. It was always like that. Always a test. And once he opened the door, he knew he would have to go through with it. The die would be cast.
    There was a tentative rapping on the window and Chen swivelled in his seat to see a man standing only a few inches from the glass.With a flick of his wrist,