Battlefield 4: Countdown to War (18 page)

36

Lilac Park, Shanghai

The Audi swept through a set of gates and up to a large mansion. She had hoped it would at least be a downtown hotel with lots of people around: no such luck. She allowed herself a glance over her shoulder, and saw the gates closing behind them. The car came to a halt and the two guards leapt out and opened the door on the Director’s side.

‘Welcome to my official residence,’ he announced.

She tried to open her door but it was locked. Suddenly she felt like a prisoner. He reached in to help her. There was no escape. Maybe she was overreacting. Perhaps he did want to get her to somewhere comfortable so they could properly discuss what she had seen and learned. If she was wrong, the best she could do was behave in such a way that he might let his guard down.

She accepted his hand, smiling thinly as she emerged from the car.

‘This is a fine house,’ she managed.

He didn’t reply. The brief glimpse of charm earlier was all it was – brief. He took her by the arm and led her up to the house.

The room was panelled and grand in a bland sort of way, like the house occupied by the dean of her school at Harvard. He opened a huge drinks cabinet and poured out two large tumblers of Scotch. She needed that drink, but she had to remain alert. Then he signalled to the two guards to leave them. He turned to her and grinned, revealing uneven, nicotine-stained teeth. In America no one could have got to his position with those teeth.

He lifted his glass to her. She nodded, tilted her glass briefly in his direction and drank. She could have downed the lot in one gulp
but that would have been unwise. He took a sip and put his glass down.

‘So, here we are at last.’

He grinned again then his face became serious.

‘Your future depends on the outcome of this evening.’

Did he mean what she had witnessed, the information she had discovered? If only. He gestured for her to join him on the large leather Chesterfield.

He made a space on the glass table beside her, took out a small packet and emptied out a little mound of white powder.

‘You’ve been in America so you’ll be well acquainted with this.’

She wasn’t. She had never had any drugs in her life. Not even weed. Her sorority friends had tried many times to initiate her, to no avail. She decided to make one last attempt.

‘Sir, I thought that we were going to discuss the—’

He cut her off.

‘Yes, yes, naturally. First things first.’

He chopped and sorted the powder into three lines and took out what looked like an antique silver propelling pencil with the pencil part removed.

‘Much more stylish than a rolled-up banknote, I’m sure you’ll agree. It’s a relic from pre-war Shanghai, when people really knew how to have fun.’

He took off his jacket.

‘Shuyi, we’ve always understood each other, haven’t we?’

This felt far too intimate. Only her parents called her that.

‘I – I am keen to do my utmost for the department, sir.’

A tiny emphasis on the ‘sir’ was all she could do to remind him that their relationship was strictly professional.

‘Very good. I’m glad to hear it.’

He leaned closer and looked her up and down.

‘You’ve got great potential. Your commitment to the work is a credit to you. Don’t pass up any opportunity for advancement.’

‘I understand, sir.’ She even managed a smile, before the true meaning hit home. She cursed her naivety.

He grinned again.

‘Good, I’m glad that is clear to you.’

Before she had registered it, his hand had reached out towards the buttons on her shirt. Two had been broken during the explosion.

‘I should think you’d like to get out of those torn clothes, wouldn’t you?’

She smiled again, forcing her facial muscles to comply. She could feel her heart hammering, yet she couldn’t move a muscle. What could she do?

He bent over the powder and inhaled deeply. Her eyes swept the room, the solitary door with the guards outside, the heavily curtained windows on the first floor: too high to jump. She watched as one line disappeared up the tube. A terrible sense of defeat engulfed her as if the dead weight of generations of women who had reluctantly submitted to the unwelcome advances of men was bearing down on her, saying
oh, just let him have his way
. He lifted his head, his eyes closed, and let out a satisfied sigh. Then he looked at her again, his eyes bulging.

He angled the tube towards her.

‘I hope you aren’t going to disappoint me, Shuyi.’

She noticed that with his jacket off he looked much more powerful, that far from being the ‘desk jockey’ she’d dismissively assumed, he had thick upper arms and strong looking wrists. She had also noted his quick reactions. His reflexes were excellent.

She sat frozen in the chair, rigid with a mixture of fear and disgust. She had no idea what to do so she cocked her head on one side and smiled.

The first line had made him eager for more. He looked at her and when she shook her head, shrugged and bent forward again. She watched closely as he positioned the tube at one end of the second line, bent down and inserted the other end in his left nostril, with the tip of his forefinger pressed against his right. Stay calm, she told herself: wait for the right moment. She would only get one chance and she had to get it right. Her only advantage would be surprise.

She reached out, grasped the crown of his head as if it were a basketball, and with all the strength she could find, slammed her hands downwards, pushing and pushing with everything she had. It was as
if all the months of humiliation and ridicule had been fuelled into one powerful, devastating gesture of vengeance. There was a gluey tearing, crunching sound as the silver pipe drove up the nostril and buried itself deep in his head. She let go. He staggered back, half rising; eyes swivelled, then focused on her, his mouth a distorted outline of dismay. Then he fell back and slumped to the floor, his limbs twitching as blood bubbled out of the silver tube.

She looked at him with cold unblinking eyes, then started towards the door. But then she stopped. If she didn’t put on a show the guards would suspect her. She put her hands up to her face and screamed as loudly as she could manage.

They rushed into the room. She stood frozen in her place clutching her mouth as if she was about to throw up.

‘One moment he was fine and then – oh my God, I think he’s had a brain haemorrhage.’

One of them put his arm round her and steered her out of the room.

‘I need to go home—’

He held her a little too tightly.
Jesus, she thought: they’re all the same.

‘I think I can manage now, thank you.’

Once they were out of the room she shrugged him off , bowed her head slightly and started down the stairs.

‘You need to contact Internal Aff airs, not the police. They will handle this, appropriately.’

The second guard frowned.

‘As a witness you need to stay—’

But she was already moving past him.

‘Hey, stop—!’

She ran out through the doors, down the front steps and on to the drive. There were two more guards standing by the car, smoking. Where the hell had they come from?

‘Quick! The Director’s had a stroke!’

They hesitated. She whirled round, spotted the Audi’s keys still in the ignition.

‘Go now! You may be able to save him!’

She dived into the front seat, turned the key, rammed the stick into Drive. She headed straight for the gates. They looked very solid but there wasn’t much choice. She closed her eyes and floored the gas.

37

Huangshan Mountains

It was almost dawn. Kovic arched backwards, training the binoculars almost vertically in the direction of the peak. On Qi’s screen it had looked forbidding; now he was standing at its foot it was like no mountain he had ever seen, a vast column of volcanic granite. Its sheer sides were flecked with vegetation and pockmarked with holes preserved from the time it was forced upwards by the subterranean power deep in the Earth’s core, glowing a fiery orange. The top was shrouded in cloud. He felt an unfamiliar stab of concern for what he was about to subject his crew to. Any other time common sense would have prevailed. But he was all out of that particular commodity.

‘How’s it look?’

Qi, laying out the ropes and clips, was making an extra eff ort to be positive.

‘No idea. Thanks to the cloud I can see zip.’

Even though it was only just light, it was already stickily humid. They had left at 5 a.m. and driven deep into the forest to a makeshift dam where they were to meet the guide Mrs Chen had arranged. Zhou had stripped off and was swimming. Wu sat on the edge of the logs, dangling his feet in the cool, clear mountain water. Among the trees surrounding the dam was a tiered patchwork of tiny fields of tea, ginseng and other crops. Wu looked uncharacteristically charmed by this unexpected Eden.

‘Still sure you want to go to America?’

Kovic hoped he was changing his mind, since the chances of his making that happen for him were slipping away by the day.

Wu nodded at the base of the mountain.

‘Ask me again after this.’

Qi was sorting through the equipment: a harness each, soft rubber soled shoes, chalk to increase hand grip, Kernmantle nylon rope, the most expensive he could find, carabiners to hold the rope in place, nuts to drive into the rock to secure the rope, descenders and belay plates to run the rope through.

He gestured at their surroundings.

‘Incredible to think that a hundred million years ago this was under the sea.’

‘Yeah? Well it’s still not dried out.’ The humidity was already getting to him.

The first thousand metres was thick vegetation, mostly pines, some of them growing straight out of deep fissures in the rock. Above the treeline, where the vast granite plug emerged, it bristled with small shrubs and ferns that clung stubbornly to its vertical surfaces. Stone steps carved by the monks who were the first to inhabit the peak over a thousand years ago were still visible in places, but notably absent in others. And for the last ten years it had been a no-go area. Finding the way up would be impossible without help.

Qi moved on to his laptop, which he had connected to a small antenna attached to a tripod beside him. Kovic peered over his shoulder. ‘This is a map of the electrical system, which gives a pretty good idea of the layout. Combined with what I got via the spectral imaging from the weather satellite I can confirm that the perimeter wall has a high voltage line round it that acts as both a deterrent and an alarm.’

‘Work on how you can disable it. Any indication of ways in or out through the wall?’

‘Seems as if the only conventional way in is via the helipad.’

Almost right on cue the sound of a big twin rotor helicopter pounded the air, unseen above the low cloud collaring the mountain. Qi looked at Kovic.

‘We could do with one of those.’

‘Maybe we’ll borrow one to get out. Look out!’

A tiny man came trotting briskly towards them over the dam, grinning and waving, wearing the hat and clothes of a country peasant. Slung over his shoulder was a small canvas knapsack, out of
which stuck the head of an ice axe. His agility and his face, a network of deep creases, did not match.

‘My God,’ said Kovic. ‘It’s the goblin of the rock.’

‘Welcome to our country!’ He saluted Kovic and then wrapped a claw-like hand around his. ‘My name is Heng. I hope you are taking pleasure in the many wonders of our land.’

They all stopped what they were doing and looked at him. Seriously – this was their guide?

‘Absolutely: I am a great admirer of your country,’ said Kovic. What had Mrs Chen told him? That they were harmless hikers hoping to take in a spot of bird watching and guerrilla warfare?

‘He’s older than my grandfather,’ whispered Wu.

The man looked at least eighty, and Kovic felt a twinge of responsibility. They were prepared for danger, but this guy looked as though he might expire before they’d even fired a shot.

‘Mrs Chen has given me strict instructions not to ask you about the purpose of your trip, nor to repeat any words I hear exchanged between you. On this you have my word. There is no time to waste. We need to be above the treeline by sundown.’

‘How long to the top?’

He looked at them like a new teacher discovering he’d been stuck with the duds.

‘I have done it in a day. You, maybe two – if you make an eff ort and don’t waste time. Don’t worry, I will wait for you!’

At this he let out a weird, staccato sound as if imitating machine gun fire: he was laughing.

‘Let me see your equipment.’

Qi showed him the pieces he had laid out. The old man examined each item and frowned, then shook his head and wagged his finger at each one.

‘This – no, this – no, these – no.’

Qi looked aghast. He had spent hours researching the best equipment for such a climb. Heng kicked the high tensile ropes dismissively.

‘No point in these. There are plenty of ledges to grip with your fingers.’

This supposed reassurance fell like a dead weight between them. Wu looked particularly sick.

‘Adds bulk – loses you balance . . . ’

Kovic looked afresh at the old man’s claw-like hands with new respect – the perfect implements for clinging to a rock face in a gale.

‘What about those nice old ancient steps?’ asked Zhou.

Another burst of machine gun fire.

‘They are long gone. The current inhabitant had them destroyed.’

He resumed his critique of their kit.

‘Much too much. You will have enough trouble just hauling your own body weight up the sheer face. Only the most essential items must come with you. Open your backpacks and throw out anything you can live without. Look.’

He opened his own frayed canvas bag.

‘Water, food and blanket. That’s all. And the axe, for putting the injured out of their misery.’ More gunfire.

Kovic wondered how much Mrs Chen had actually told him. He nodded, curtly hoping he wouldn’t say anything else that exacerbated the mood of despondency.

None of them had moved so Heng snatched up one of the bags and started rummaging through it. As well as the climbing kit there were the weapons, one gun each, ammunition, explosive packs for detonating doors. At the sight of the arsenal, Heng’s expression changed. He admired the guns, nodding gravely. He’d got the message all right. Mrs Chen had insisted they could trust him. Let’s hope she’s right, Kovic thought.

‘Okay, maybe we take the ropes to help you with all this.’

There was a collective sigh of relief. Heng examined the ancient watch on his wrist, its face almost opaque with years of cracks and scratches, like his own.

‘Well, let’s not stand around scratching our arses, eh!’