The ramshackle buildings that had sprung up around the ancient ruins were situated high on the banks of the river that bled from the nearby Lake Tansai. If I was to follow the river for about thirty miles, it would eventually lead to Lake Hanas and the village of Kola Su in Xinjiiang. That was one of our possible escape routes if this went horribly wrong. I had been to Kola Su once before, a very long time ago. It was a beautiful little place, rustic, but with beautiful old buildings and long, graceful, white bridges. Katarina and I had shared a small cottage there for a few weeks while laying low after one of Eddie’s jobs. I still remembered one particular moment, waking up on a sleeping mat, and glancing over at Katarina, wearing nothing but my shirt, framed in the glorious sunrise, the crystal clear lake behind her, and her throwing rice balls at some weird looking Chinese ducks. That image had stuck with me for a lot of years. It had actually been a relatively peaceful stretch in an otherwise turbulent time of my life.
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