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gingerly.
    She shot them both.  Dragged their bodies inside the cavern.  Then left and closed the doors.               Walked up the stairs and out onto the mausoleum floor.
    Between the golden coffins she lowered her head out of respect, while reaching into her pocket for the detonator.
    Her eyes flickered, and she received a quick glimpse: The hunter, below.  Checking their tracking Apps, seeing that she was going the wrong way.  Starting to get concerned.  A few of them emerging from their hiding spots, approaching the exit…
    She pressed the button on the detonator, just as a crowd of pilgrims murmured in unison, offering prayers and thoughts to the departed.
    The floor rumbled, then was still.
    She headed for the cool air blowing in through the majestic archway.
     

 
    EIGHT
    The shadows in the corner of his penthouse office suite shifted and Davarius Malmud froze.
    Is someone there?  He looked at the darkness, wishing he'd turned on more lights, but that wasn't advisable.  Despite the magnificent view, he was a target and couldn't give his enemies a clean shot. He had everything else so well protected, all the various aspects of his business enterprises, but the last thing he expected was for an attack to come from right inside his very office, his very sanctum.
    Then he thought about her.   The hunt.  He had been following it on the screens.  Impressive.  But there was no way she'd win.
    He had chuckled at the thought.  Of course it was impossible.  That was the true beauty of the game.  The prey needed a carrot, something to play for.  But just like a deer in a gated hunting preserve, there was no escape, no survival.  Only the fleeting belief in it – enough so that they wouldn't just lay down and surrender.
    But then he got the report from thirty minutes ago…  Some kind of explosion down there.  Near the entrance.  They were still trying to sort it out.
    And then he saw it on the central monitor in his office…  The red dot, her tracking device. 
    She was out.  She had fled away from the Taj.
    Unexpected.  And devious.  Again he was impressed, but this was nothing he couldn't deal with.  He had already sent two squads of elite hunters after her, teams that had been outbid for this game but were itching for the next.  For a reduced price, he let them in now, with a major monetary reward slated for whoever eventually bagged the kill.
    But where was she going?
    At first he was worried.
    She couldn't get in here, not past all the guards and defenses.
    But then he saw her pass the Oberoi Hotel, heading east.  A few blocks later, she stopped.  At some office park.  He couldn't imagine what she was doing, except maybe trying to lay low.  But he knew she'd be coming to himeventually.  It was in her file, in her makeup.  The same way she had made sure to get revenge on her captors all those years ago. 
    So he had ordered the hunters to come back, fortify the hotel grounds, the lobby and the elevator access. 
    Let her come.
    And then he waited.  Watching that red dot, which never moved.
    Sweating now, he kept glancing out the window, then back to the shadows in the corner.  His attention was pulled by the soft lights of the sprawling resort with its grand pools, fountains and gardens lit up below.  And further back, the magnificent Taj, basking in its resplendent glory and mystery.  Normally inspiring, now it seemed to mock him.
    Then, from the shadows, a small sound that nonetheless assaulted his ears like a funeral gong.  
    Impossible.   He looked again at the monitor – at the red dot in the same position as before.  How? He didn't know, but how she did it could wait.  How she got past all the hunters and into his very sanctum without his knowledge, and without making a sound, could wait.
    The machine pistol in my top drawer…   He thought about it, then remembered how many hunters had already fallen to this quarry. She hadn't survived this long only to lose