Flags of Sin (2 page)

The
panel separating them from the driver lowered. “Sir, we’re almost there.”

“Thanks,
Tom.”

Redford
moved aside as the Ambassador changed positions so he could lower the window
and get a good view.

“Are we
really going to do this, even after what Mr. White said?”

Davidson
smiled at him, as if he were something to be pitied. “Mr. White is paid to
panic. I’m not.”

The
statement was matter of fact.
Even if it’s true, maybe he’s got reason to
panic.
Redford looked out the back window, the bullet proof glass at least
providing some comfort. Their escort vehicle was close behind, four armed men,
in addition to the four in the lead vehicle. Plus their driver and one escort
in the passenger seat up front.

Ten
armed, highly trained men, all to protect one man.

Redford
had no illusions that he would be anything but cannon fodder if the Ambassador’s
life were at stake, and it didn’t really bother him that much. Dying did, and
of course he would try to save himself as best he could, but he was also a
realist. He was a plebe compared to the Ambassador.

“Here we
go, sir!” called Tom from the front.

Redford
watched Davidson press the button, the window lowering as they slowed. Tiananmen
Square. It was beautiful. And massive. And a tomb to hundreds if not thousands
of forgotten souls, the memory of the massacre that had taken place here in 1989
washed away by the communist state, and conveniently forgotten by Western
governments eager to do business with the burgeoning economy.

It was
almost sickening.

But it
hadn’t stopped him from jumping at the job. But then again he wasn’t even in
high school when the massacre had happened. He remembered it vaguely, but those
memories might have been mixed in with his more recent viewings of all things
China when he had first heard of his assignment.

That was
two years ago.

And he
had to admit, he loved it here. It was a mix of ancient history, with modern
day wonders. The pollution knocked your socks off some days, the crowds could
be intense, the cyclists infuriating, but you couldn’t go ten feet without
seeing something older than anything back home.

“Something’s
happening.”

It
wasn’t the words, but the tone of Tom’s voice that caused him to snap from his
reverie.

“What is
it?” asked Redford, the Ambassador apparently not having heard it, or simply
not concerned.

“Holy
shit!” It was the agent in the front this time. Redford followed his gaze and
saw a person flying backward, then skidding twenty or thirty feet along the
concrete of the square.

“What
the hell was that?” asked Ambassador Davidson as his head jerked back in the
window.

They all
flew forward as Tom slammed on the brakes. Redford picked himself up off the
floor of their hardened limo. “What the hell happened?”

But there
was no response. Tom’s head had turned back, and at first Redford thought he
was checking on them, but when he tumbled forward again he realized the car was
now in reverse, the accelerator pressed hard as the engine protested and the
car raced away from whatever was happening.

“Holy shit!” exclaimed the agent in the front, whose name Redford couldn’t remember at
the moment.

“What’s
going on?” demanded the Ambassador.

“We’re
under attack!” yelled Tom. “Lead vehicle has been taken out. Shit!”

Brakes
squealed and the rear seat passengers tumbled again. Redford took the
opportunity to shove himself into the nearest seat and strap in. The car jerked
forward again, and Ambassador Davidson rolled backward, slamming into the seat.
Redford reached over and grabbed him, pulling him into the seat and strapping
the disoriented man into place.

“You’re
bleeding, sir!”

Redford
leaned forward, retrieving a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it
against the gushing wound on his boss’ forehead. A shattering sound from up
front, then something hit Redford in the back of the head. He gasped as the Ambassador’s
face was smeared in a red, sticky goo.

“Holy
Christ!”

It was
the agent. Redford’s head spun toward the front and he gagged.

There
was a six inch hole in the front windshield, and Tom’s head wasn’t where it
should be. In fact, it was completely missing.

The
driverless car jerked to a halt, hitting something, but Redford’s seatbelt held
him in place.

“What do
we do?” he yelled at the agent, who was on his radio, providing their status.
Something hit the car, then the windshield was blocked slightly as someone
jumped on the hood. Redford’s heart slammed into his chest and he reached down
to unbuckle his seatbelt.

A gun
shoved through the hole and began to belch led as he dove to the floor.

The Imperial Gardens, Beijing, China

January 13, 1875

Li Mei urged the little bundle in her arms to stop crying, her heart
a lump in her throat as her eyes, filled with fear, probed the gardens they now
ran through. It was an area of the city she wasn’t familiar with, much of the life
she remembered having been spent in the service of her Emperor, confined within
the walls of the Forbidden City, with little time to enjoy its treasures.

Please
be quiet!

The poor
creature wailed, and Li Mei knew the tiny thing was terrified. She was sure he
could sense the fear they all felt. It was palpable. Shouts of anger, screams
of pain, were mere hedgerows away, and if the future emperor didn’t quiet
himself soon, they risked being discovered.

“Give
him to me,” said Yu, the wet nurse and her friend. Mei immediately handed him
over, and the silence that ensued when placed on Yu’s breast was a relief to
them all.

A twig
snapped, then a branch. Mei froze, as did Yu, but the four guardsmen in the
lead continued forward, their swords drawn, their pace slowed, but only
slightly.

They all
knew they needed to get out of the gardens and into the prearranged shelter
until nightfall. Two guardsmen took up position on their left, another two on
their right, horn bows drawn, arrows in position, strings drawn back tight. Mei
looked at the rear where the remaining four guardsmen, swords at the ready,
warily walked sideways, their heads as if on pivots, looking about as they
covered their escape.

Then all
hell broke loose.

Shouts
from all sides were heard, and the tall hedge began to shake, the branches
snapping, loud against the tranquil garden, and the baby wailed as Yu spun
toward a sound, her nipple popping free of his mouth.

“We need
to move, now!” hissed Fang Zen, a well-respected warrior who had fought, and
survived, many of the battles his Emperor and Empress Dowager had ordered him
to. And in the ultimate indication of their Emperor’s faith in him, he had
named the warrior personal guard to his heir, and most prized possession. His
son.

They
moved forward, quicker now. Mei’s world narrowed to the armor of the soldier
directly in front of her. The sounds became distant, her ears consumed by the
adrenaline fueled panic pounding inside her. She heard curious whooshing sounds
to her sides, and distant screams, along with the blurred motions of the guards
at her sides as they reached behind them for another arrow from their quiver.

A cry from
beside her caused her to turn. It was too close to be one of the unseen enemy
fighting its way through the thick hedge, the escape route having been grown
over centuries, nursed lovingly by gardeners who intentionally guided the
branches amongst each other, intertwining them over the years to create an
almost impenetrable barrier. A single, long alley from the secret exit in the
palace, through the heart of the gardens, and outside the city walls.

A secret
passage, that no one knew about, even the gardeners segregated to work on it
from the outside only, then once a year, a group of peasants would be selected
from a distant province, and brought in, under blindfold and threat of death,
to trim the interior, then returned, never to have known they were actually in
the Forbidden City.

It was a
total secret, a secret that no one knew except a few of the inner circle. A
secret that had been revealed to the closest of the Emperor’s staff only last
night, out of necessity. A secret that someone had obviously revealed, if they
were now under attack.

The
source of the cry became evident as Yu began to fall to the ground. Mei reached
forward as a look of horror spread across Yu’s face, not at her impending doom,
but at the baby now falling. Mei stopped, her slippers sliding on the gravel,
causing her to fall to the ground. She watched the baby slip from Yu’s grasp,
wailing in confusion. Mei reached forward in a desperate bid to catch the child
before he hit the ground, pushing with her toes against a rut her feet had
caught in their slide. She fell toward the ground, arms outstretched, and barely
managed to get her fingers under the tiny bundle before it hit. She pulled the baby
to her chest and felt hands on her shoulders, dragging them both to their feet,
as the group continued to silently move forward, the swoosh of arrows, the
cries as impacts were made, the only sounds.

She
looked ahead, and could see their destination, and wondered what awaited them
there. If they had been betrayed already, and their route revealed, how could
they possibly assume it would be safe ahead. She glanced over her shoulder, at
the palace they had just fled, and knew they had no choice. They had to move
forward, there was no going back, there was no remaining.

Whatever
their fate would be, it would be decided at the end of this hedgerow.

And
suddenly it stopped.

The
shouts, the cries of arrows finding their targets, the sound of air being
shoved aside as an arrow loosed. All silent. She looked at Yu, confused, but Yu
wasn’t looking at her. Her eyes were red from crying, and were focused on the
baby, still clutched in Mei’s arms. Mei reached out and squeezed Yu’s shoulder with
a reassuring smile. She looked up for a moment, and was about to say something
when the column stopped.

Mei
looked ahead, and saw they were at a rather nondescript door, a plain, heavy
wood, unpainted, but reinforced with metal on this side at least.

And
secured by a simple latch.

The
sword wielding guardsmen rushed forward, leaving only two at the rear, the
staff still flanked by the archers. The lead, Fang Zen, looked at his men, then
pulled open the door, stepping back and out of the way as the door swung open.

Mei
heard footsteps, and it took a moment to realize her eyes were squeezed shut,
her heart, slamming against her ribcage, refusing to settle. “Let’s go!” hissed
someone. She stumbled forward, then forced her eyes open for the child’s sake,
and breathed a sigh of relief. The room on the other side of the door was
empty. They had been betrayed, but even their betrayer must not have known
where the hedgerow ended.

How long
they could count on not being found, was anybody’s guess, but she was certain
it couldn’t be long. She stepped through the door, which was then secured by a
large wood bar, hooked across the frame.

No one
else would be able to follow, without breaking down the door.

“Quickly,
everyone change!”

Mei
looked about, and saw the room split in two, Fang Zen urging the women to one
side, behind a large screen, his men already stripping out of their armor. She
followed Yu behind the screen, and found dozens of peasant’s outfits, their
dull blue almost an assault on her senses, she so accustomed to the opulent
designs and colors of the imperial court.

But
today was a day to blend.

She
handed Yu the baby, then stripped out of her clothes as Yu removed the baby from
his swaddling clothes, a wrap far too opulent for the masses. It took longer to
disrobe than it did to put the simple outfit on, and when she was done, the
baby was ready and handed to her as Yu began to change. Mei gave the little boy
a kiss, her still hammering heart thankful he had remained quiet during the
entire changeover.

“Ready?”

It was Fang
Zen on the other side of the screen.

Mei
looked about at the women, and all nodded.

“Yes.”

Fang Zen
rounded the screen, followed by his men. He turned to face them all. “Beyond
this door”—he pointed at a small door she hadn’t noticed before—“is the city.
We will leave in pairs. One guard for each woman, separated by a
one-hundred-count. Turn right, and walk this street until you reach a fountain.
In that square there’s a butcher’s shop. Enter, and say, ‘Our people have stood
up.’ You will be taken to the back, and to safety.” His hand gripped the door
handle. “Try to be calm, try not to run, and for the sake of our Emperor”—he
nodded toward the tiny bundle Mei held—“remember who you are pretending to be.
You are now commoners, amongst commoners. Don’t forget that. Don’t take on airs
you are accustomed to when walking amongst these people, otherwise you will be
spotted instantly.”

He
pointed at Yu. “You and I will go first.” He pointed at his second-in-command, Su
Ming. “You go with the boy next. Count to one-hundred before leaving.”

Su Ming
nodded, and Mei stepped over to him, trying not to squeeze her charge too tight
in her fear.

Suddenly
there was pounding on the door to the hedgerow. Yu yelped, and someone on the
other side yelled, “They’re still in there!”

Fang Zen
lowered his voice. “Forget the one hundred count. Make it twenty. We can’t all
be seen leaving in a jumble. If they break through, those who remain, leave,
but go left. Try to meet us at the butcher’s shop later. But if you are
captured, I expect you all to do your duty, and die for your Emperor.”