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time.
    Howard Smith paced the cold hard ground of the subterranean cavern and took some pictures with his Canon digital camera. He saw Kevin Tan and his fiancée Sarah loitering at the ornate marble door and he walked up to them.
    “This place kinda gives me the creeps,” Howard said, “It ain’t look like nothing from the tourist magazines.”
    “Yeah,” Kevin Tan replied, raising his eye brows, “I think we were ripped off. Big time. Thanks to Paul.”
    Wong scanned the disappointed faces of the tourists. He decided to keep up to his role as a tour guide by gesturing the group to gather in front of the marble door.
    “Gentlemen, this is the west wing of the General’s Tomb,” Wong said with a grin, “It’s not opened to the public yet.” He pointed to the construction machineries at the far corner of the room and chuckled, “You are lucky to see a real excavation site in China. Like Indiana Jones you know..hee..hee.”
    Paul noticed that the tomb entrance was locked and he pulled Wong aside.
    “Comrade, the tomb entrance seems to be locked. Can you ask your friend over there to open it?” Paul asked in mandarin.
    “Hey, I can’t help with that. I promised to bring you here. I didn’t say you could go into the tomb.” Wong said curtly.
    “What? You are a cheat!” Paul bellowed with a shriek and abruptly pushed Wong a step back. All eyes were now on him and Wong.
    “Guys, he is not going to bring us into the tomb, the key attraction,” Paul said furiously, his sweeping hand gesturing at the marble door, “What do you think we should do?”
    Mr. Park stepped forward with a frown on his face and pointed his forefinger at Wong. “You bring us in there or I will report you to the Police. Don’t cheat on us.”
    Wong ignored Mr. Park’s confrontation and turned toward the tourists.
    “Gentlemen, all the roads to this place are closed today. You pay good money and I bring you here,” Wong said, “now, please go and take more pictures.” He waved at the night guard to come over and continued with that perpetual smile on his face, “We are leaving in ten minutes so chop chop.” After saying that, Wong intended to walk away from the crowd and he muttered to himself in local dialect, “A bunch of fools.”
    Paul heard him crystal clear and he immediately stretched out his firm hand and grabbed Wong on his shirt collar, “You son of a …”
    Before Paul could spell out his expletives, he was abruptly shoved aside.
    Paul realized that the night guard standing behind him was the one who pushed him over. He paused for a second. To the surprise of many, he suddenly swung a fist at the Chinese man but missed him by inches as he was forcefully held back by Howard.
    “Cool off brother. There’re children here,” Howard said as he slowly released his grip on Paul, “We will report to the authority when we get back to the hotel.”
    About four hundred yards above ground, deafening thunders roared like a beast and heavy snow was pouring in all directions. The sky was elephant gray and the old bunker building was hardly visible until a streak of lightning struck the bunker on its roof. Sparks flew off the zinc roof and fell to the ground. There was an excruciating buzz and all of a sudden the lamps went out.
     

CHAPTER 7
     
    The fluorescent lamps illuminating the underground chamber flickered for a second or two and then there was total darkness. Pitch black engulfed the entire west wing of the General’s Tomb. Some ladies among the stunned tourists screamed and their cries of fear turned into echoes that resonated strongly in the chamber. Then there was a brief moment of silence before an outburst of clanking metals and heavy footsteps.
    “Comrade Lang, where are you?” Wong asked in anxiety, “Where are the flashlights?”
    Wong could hear someone moving towards him at top speed and that person was hitting an object continuously, producing a series of tapping sound, each tap louder than the