Flags of Sin (3 page)

With
that he opened the door, peeked outside, then nodded at Yu, the two
disappearing. Mei counted to twenty in her head, apparently quicker than Su
Ming, who waited another full ten-count by her calculations, the door behind
them beginning to splinter, several of the men having gone back to try and hold
it in place. Now she knew why it opened toward the gardens. It was designed to
keep people out of here.

She felt
Su Ming’s hand on her arm, and the door opened as he dragged her into the dusk.
He gripped her arm tight as she tried to run, then as she looked about, she
realized why his grip continued to tighten. They were surrounded by hundreds if
not thousands of people. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she was about to
scream when she felt herself being pulled to the right. She looked at Su Ming, who
had his head down, his eyes looking at the ground, a sad look on his face.

She
looked around again, and realized they weren’t surrounded, they were merely
amongst the regular throngs of people that inhabited the city. It had been so
long since she’d been outside the palace walls, she had forgotten how crowded
the city actually was. Her heart began to calm, and she dropped her head,
falling in beside Su Ming as he established a steady pace that went with the
flow of the crowd, rather than trying to push ahead.

His grip
eased as he apparently realized she was okay, and eventually he released her. Mei,
her head still bowed, tried to look up, to see if she could spot Fang Zen and Yu,
but she couldn’t, and she took that to be a good thing. She risked a quick glance
over her shoulder, and saw a door open where she thought they had just come
from, and two people exit.

She
wondered who they might be.

And how
many more would escape.

A scream
rang out, and she looked back to see the same door thrown open and several
women run out, a couple to the right, the rest having the presence of mind to
go to the left, followed by a group of men, the guardsmen in disguise. She felt
the hand grip her arm again, urging her forward, as she felt herself begin to
become faint.

“Don’t
look,” hissed Su Ming.

But she
couldn’t help it. The Empress Dowager’s men were now appearing through the
door, spreading out in all directions, and chasing after anyone that was
running away.

She felt
a hand on her chin redirect her head away from the scene.

“You
must remain calm, or you will get us all killed!” he whispered.

She
nodded, and they continued moving forward. Footsteps pounded by them, and she
recognized two of the servants from the court, ignoring their instructions to
flee in the opposite direction.

More
shouting, more foot falls, then someone grabbed her by the shoulder, twisting
her around and pushing her into Su Ming. She nearly dropped the baby, but Su
Ming reached out and caught him, pushing him back into her arms, as he put his
other arm over her shoulders and pulled her to the side of the road as the
Empress Dowager’s troops rushed by. They stood and watched, heads low, much
like the rest of the throng caught in this moment of history.

A cry, a
voice she recognized immediately as Yu’s, tore through the narrow road. A shout
from Fang Zen, the sounds of blades clashing, then a groan as someone’s blade
successfully penetrated. More clashing, and Mei swore she saw sparks fly into
the air as if fireworks were spewing from their blades, then Yu rushed by them,
two of the Empress’ guards chasing her. Yu gave Mei a quick glance, the terror
in her eyes causing a pit in Mei’s stomach to open up and swallow any courage
she might have had.

Su Ming’s
hand rose slightly off her shoulders and pushed her chin away from the pursuit
of Yu. And he was right. If she paid too much attention, it might make them a
target. Another groan from the right, and her head darted to where Fang Zen had
been fighting. Swords continued to clash, grunts of exertion, moans of pain
filled her ears, but the fact the fight continued gave her hope that Fang Zen
might still prevail. He was the most skilled fighter she knew, and if anyone
stood a chance against the Empress Dowager’s guardsmen, he did.

Even if
it was six to one.

Su Ming
pulled her toward the fighting, but continued to hug the edge of the street. As
they moved past the scene, she could see four of the guardsmen on the ground,
either dead or writhing in pain. Blood flowed freely from Fang Zen’s left
shoulder, but his sword, wielded from the right, continued to swing smoothly,
and a fifth man went down. Su Ming urged her forward, and for a split second
she saw Fang Zen make eye contact with her, as he plunged his sword behind him,
burying it into the belly of his final opponent. With a twist, he yanked it
out, then fled down the street, ducking into an alleyway.

Mei
wondered if she would ever see him again.

Meridian Gate, The Forbidden City, Beijing, China

Two weeks ago

Deniz stared up at the doors, his mouth agape. He reached forward
and found his hand resting on one of the dozens of golden door nails, arranged
in a nine by nine array, that adorned the massive entrance to the Forbidden
City. Just the name had always sent a chill down his spine, and now that he was
here, he couldn’t believe his good fortune. It had been a trying time. His
wife, Alex, had lost her job during the follow-on to the Great Recession, and
he had barely scraped by, having to take a pay cut just so the company could
stay afloat.

But they
had managed. They had made it through. He still had his house, albeit the price
they could get for it was scarcely higher than what he owed the bank, but he
had never missed a payment. Some days it had meant Kraft Dinner and tuna for
supper, but since they didn’t have kids at home to try and explain the tough
times to, they simply made do. Cable had been cut, cellphones cut, home phone features
scaled back, car sold and downsized to a tiny Mazda 2, and public transport
used whenever possible.

Life had
been tough.

He held
out an arm and he felt Alex tuck herself under, the warmth of her touch
bringing him all the comfort he had ever needed in those hard times. He
squeezed her against him and sighed, still staring up at the massive doors.

“Amazing,
isn’t it.”

She
pressed her head harder against his chest.

“It’s
beautiful.”

He
looked down and kissed the top of her head, inhaling her scent, so familiar
after almost thirty years of marriage. She looked up at him and smiled. Her
eyes were starting to show her age, and her golden blonde hair was a little
more dull, but to him, she was still the beauty he had married, and all he saw
was her brilliant smile that conveyed the love they still shared, and the
golden curls he had so desperately wanted to run his fingers through when he
first met her in college.

“I can’t
believe how lucky we are,” she whispered.

He
leaned in and gave her a peck.

“Incredibly
lucky.”

And they
had been. There was no way in hell they could afford this vacation, but on a
whim she had entered a radio contest, and six months later, here they were. An
all-expense paid ten day trip to China. They had debated trying to sell the trip
to someone else, but in the end had decided they should take it themselves.
They hadn’t been able to afford to travel for years, and had no idea when
they’d be able to travel again. This might be their last chance, so they were
treating it like a second honeymoon, their first, back when they were dirt
poor, searching the cushions on the couch for change to go grab an ice cream,
was a trip to Atlantic City for the weekend.

They
hadn’t gambled, except for a dollar in the slots. And once that had been eaten
sixty seconds later, Deniz had said ‘Never again’ and left the casino. Instead,
they spent their time on the boardwalk, hand in hand, stealing kisses whenever
they could, and in their room, stealing a lot more.

His
heart raced slightly at the memory.

God,
to be young and in love again.

“Shall
we?” he asked, holding his arm out toward the interior of the Forbidden City.

“Absolutely.”

They
stepped across the threshold, and into the massive, ancient city. It was
stunning. The bright reds, oranges and golds, the ancient structures, painfully
preserved, impressive in their detail, left him breathless. He looked down at
Alex, and was about to say something when she was torn from his arms. His head
spun to follow her as she was dragged away from him, outside of the city, the expression
on her face one of shock.

Then a
loud cracking sound, as if the end of a whip had snapped inches from his face,
echoed through the walls of the mighty palace, sending a chill through him that
rippled goose bumps up his arms, his hairs standing on end. He turned to run
toward her, his mouth opening to cry out her name, when he felt something shove
against his back. He jerked forward, his body picked up from the ground, and he
found himself racing toward his wife, now prone, with, to his horror, a gaping
red hole, grapefruit sized, in her stomach.

He collapsed
unceremoniously beside her, and tried to reach for her, only inches away, but
couldn’t move his arms.

Then the
pain hit.

Excruciating,
all-consuming pain, radiating from his back. He lay, unable to move, the only
fortunate thing he could find in the situation the fact his head was facing his
beloved Alex. Her head turned toward him, the pain and fear in her eyes
evident. Her mouth moved, but no sound came, then he gasped as he watched the
last of the life drain from her face, her eyes dimming, the golden locks he had
loved so much, seeming to tarnish before his eyes.

Alex!

But he
couldn’t move his own lips. The pain was gone now, as if drained away from him,
along with any energy he might have once had. He heard voices yelling,
footsteps pounding, and his own heart, beating in his ears, a dull remnant of
what it should be, a pace so slow, he knew he was dying.

With one
last effort, he willed his arm to move, and his last vision, his last sensation
of any kind, was the feeling of his hand on his wife’s face, as everything went
black, his heart taking one final beat, sending a burst of blood toward his
outstretched hand, so he could feel her soft cheek one last time.

Outside the Forbidden City, Beijing, China

January 13, 1875

Li Mei, her priceless bundle, and Su Ming, the second-in-command of
the Imperial Guard, and her sole protector, stood at the mouth of an alleyway,
staring at the fountain gently gurgling not twenty feet away. And beyond that,
their sanctuary.

“Why
don’t we go?” she asked quietly.

“Wait,”
was the whispered, abrupt reply.

Mei
chanced a look up at him, and saw his eyes darting back and forth, as if he
were examining every corner of the square, every face that occupied it. She
looked at the fountain, and realized that she had looked at nothing but since
they arrived.

She
decided to help.

She
started on her left, her eyes peering in every window, every doorway, any place
a guardsman might hide, and found nobody who appeared to be hiding, simply the
residents of this area going about their business.

Then she
turned her attention to those residents. She figured if they were moving, then
they were probably not watching the butcher’s shop, they were merely innocent
bystanders.

Instead,
she focused on those not moving. Those standing. Sitting. Lying in wait. To her
left, a man squatted on the curb, his ratty blue pants all he wore, no shirt in
sight to conceal a weapon. She dismissed him. Next candidate. A younger man,
standing with a woman, both with their heads held low. The woman fidgeted, her
sandaled foot kicking at a stray rock. She looked up.

And Mei
gasped.

“It’s Xiao!”
she hissed.

“I know.
And Zhu, one of my men.”

She felt
butterflies in her stomach as she realized they had been behind them, and had
fled away from the butcher shop. If they had been able to make it, then perhaps
there was a chance others had as well.

“Stop
smiling.”

She
immediately frowned. Perhaps a little too much. She tried to relax, but she
couldn’t. Her heart was pounding harder and harder, and she felt her legs and
feet twitching, wanting to make the desperate race across the square and into
the safety of the butcher’s shop themselves, her brain be damned. She leant
forward, and felt the grip on her arm tighten slightly.

“They’re
moving.”

“Yes, I
ordered them to.”

“How?”

“With a
nod of my head.”

Mei was
impressed. Zhu’s eyesight must be much better than hers, as she wasn’t certain
she would be able to see someone nod their head slightly from that distance,
with so little light left. She watched, her mouth agape for a moment before she
realized and snapped it shut, as Xiao, led by Zhu, strolled across the square,
and into the butcher’s shop, as if with a purpose. No hesitation, no looking
about, simply a husband and wife going to the butcher’s.

And no
one followed.

Her
twitching increased ten-fold.

The grip
on her arm only tightened slightly.

It was
as if Su Ming could read her thoughts. His mere hand on her arm was enough for
him to read her entire body, to know how desperately she wanted to flee across
the square and into the arms of whoever stood on the other side of that door.

“Look.”
She glanced up at Su Ming, then followed his stare to watch a robed figure
enter the square opposite them, glance around, then limp to the entrance of the
butcher’s shop, and finally disappear inside.