Ice and Fire: Chung Kuo Series (38 page)

Chen went up after him. Two of the Overseer’s men had been guarding the stairs. One
lay to one side, dead. The other was slumped over a makeshift barrier, badly wounded.
Auden took a new
clip from his band and fitted it in the gun, then tugged the man’s head back and looked
across at Chen. ‘Who is he? Is he important?’

Chen shrugged, not recognizing the Han, then said. ‘No… he’s only a guard.’

Auden nodded, then put his gun to the man’s head and pulled the trigger savagely.
‘Come on,’ he said, letting the body fall away.

He was about to turn, when the door behind him burst open.

Chen opened up without thinking, firing off three shots rapidly, the big handgun kicking
violently.

The man looked at him wide-eyed, as if surprised, then fell to his knees, clutching
his ruined chest, his gun falling away from him. He toppled forward and lay still.

Auden looked at Chen strangely. ‘Thanks,’ he said coldly, almost brutally. Then he
turned and went through the door, the big gun chattering deafeningly in his hands.

Chen followed him through, into DeVore’s office.

The place was a mess. The
wei chi
board was broken, the stones scattered over the floor. The bank of screens had been
smashed, as if in a drunken orgy. He frowned, not understanding.
Auden couldn’t have made all of this mess. It was too thorough. Too all inclusive.
It had the look of systematic destruction.

And where was DeVore?

One man lay dead beneath the screens. Two others were kneeling in the far corner of
the room, their weapons discarded, their brows pressed to the floor in a gesture of
submission. Auden glanced
at them dismissively, then waved one of his men over to bind them and take them away.
Pavel had come into the room. As the captives passed him, the young man leaned close
and spat into their
faces.

‘For Supervisor Sung,’ he said, his voice hard, bitter.

Chen watched him a moment, then turned to Auden. ‘Something’s wrong,’ he said, indicating
the screens, the broken board.

Auden looked back at him. ‘What do you mean?’

Chen looked about him, uncertain. ‘I don’t know. It’s just…’

Auden turned away, impatient. ‘Come on, Kao Chen. No more foolishness. Let’s finish
the job.’

Chen stared at him a moment, angered, then did as he was bid.
But there
is something wrong
, he thought.
The killings in the field. The broken screens. They mean
something.

In the corridor outside Auden had stopped and was talking to the sergeant from the
second squad.

‘They’re holed up at the top of the house, sir,’ the sergeant was saying. ‘About eight
of them. Peskova’s there. But not DeVore.’

‘What?’ Auden turned and glared at Chen. ‘I thought you said…’

Chen shivered. So that was it. He’d gone already. It explained the killings, the board,
the broken screens. He had known it earlier – some part of him had sensed it. But
where? Where
could he have gone to?

Chen turned and banged his fist against the wall, all his anger and frustration spilling
out. ‘Shit!’

Auden blinked, surprised, then looked back at the sergeant. ‘Okay. Keep them covered,
but pull most of the men back. We’ll offer terms.’

He watched the sergeant go, then turned and met Chen’s eyes. ‘What’s eating you, Kao
Chen?’

Chen laughed bitterly. ‘You think I wanted DeVore to get away?’

‘That’s if he has. We’ve only their word. One of those eight could be him.’

Chen shook his head. ‘I doubt it. He’s too good a player.’

Auden shrugged, not understanding, then went through. Chen followed.

There was a space at the foot of the narrow stairs where the corridor widened out,
forming a kind of small room without doors. Two men were stationed there, guns at
their shoulders, keeping the
door at the top of the steps covered. It was the only way in to the upper room and
the stairs themselves were too narrow for more than a single man to use at any one
time.

‘What have they got?’ Auden asked his sergeant.

‘Guns. One or two
deng
rifles, maybe. But that’s all.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘It’s all they’re issued with out here. These peasants never riot.’

Auden laughed. ‘Lucky them!’

Waving one of the men away, he took his position on the left, half sheltered by the
wall, then called out to the men above.

‘My name is Lieutenant Auden of the T’ang’s Security forces. As you know, you’re totally
surrounded by my men. Worse than that, you’re in a bad situation. The
Overseer, the man you knew as Bergson – his real name was DeVore. Yes, DeVore, the
traitor. Which means that in helping him you too are traitors. Dead men. Understand
me? But the T’ang
has empowered me to make a deal with you. To be lenient. Surrender now and we deal
with you lightly. If you come out, unarmed and with your arms raised where we can
see them, we’ll treat this
whole matter as a mistake. Okay? Any tricks, however, and you’re
all
dead.’

Chen crouched by the back wall, watching. He had heard the sudden murmur of voices
from above at the revelation of Bergson’s true identity.
So
now you know,
he thought.
But what are you going to do?

The door slid open a fraction.

‘Good,’ said Auden, turning to Chen. ‘They’re coming out…’

Chen heard the grenade bump-bump-bump down the stairs before he saw it, and threw
himself to the side, his handgun clattering away from him across the floor. He tensed,
fearing the worst, but
instead of an explosion, there was a tiny pop and then a furious hissing.

‘Gas…’

It was a riot gas; a thick, choking gas that billowed out of the split canister, spreading
quickly in the tiny space. He had to get up, above it. Forgetting his gun, Chen crawled
quickly on his
hands and knees, his breath held, making for the stairs. But they were quicker than
him.

Chen glanced up. The first of them was already halfway down the narrow stairs. He
was wearing a breathing mask and held a stiletto in his right hand. Seeing Chen, his
eyes narrowed and he
crouched, preparing to spring. But Chen moved quickly. As he jumped, Chen rolled to
the side.

The man landed next to him and turned, slashing out wildly with the knife. It flashed
past Chen’s face, only a hand’s width from his eyes. Chen scrambled backward, cursing
softly to
himself.

More masked men were coming down the stairs now, spilling out into the tiny smoke-filled
space, while from the two side corridors Auden’s men emerged, their knives drawn,
afraid to use
their guns in the confusion.

Chen’s man had turned, looking for him. He took a step towards Chen, his knife raised,
then, with a small strangled noise, he staggered forward, collapsing to his knees.
Behind him Auden
smiled fiercely through his mask, then quickly turned away, rejoining the fight.

Chen’s eyes were streaming now, his throat on fire. He had to get air. He dragged
himself forward, making for the stairs, then stopped.

‘No-o!’

Pavel was halfway up the stairs, his hoe held out before him. He turned, surprised,
looking back down at Chen. ‘It’s Peskova!’ he said hoarsely, as if that explained
it all.
Then his face changed and he fell forward slowly, a knife protruding from his back.

For a moment Chen struggled to get to his feet, then he fell back, a wave of blackness
overwhelming him.

It seemed only a moment before he came to again, but the corridor was almost clear
of gas, and five bodies lay neatly to one side. Three men sat trussed and gagged in
one
corner. The door at the top of the stairs was locked again, the stairway covered by
the sergeant.

Chen sat up, his head pounding, then remembered.

Pavel! He mouthed the word, his heart wrenched from him.

He crawled across to where they had lain the bodies, and saw him at once.

Chen pulled the young man’s body up into his arms and cradled him a moment. He was
still warm. ‘You silly bastard!’ he moaned softly. ‘You poor, silly bastard!’ He
shuddered and straightened up, looking across to where Auden was standing, watching
him. Chen’s cheeks were wet with tears, but it didn’t matter. It was like losing a
son, a brother. He
felt a black rage sweep through him.

‘What are you waiting for? You told him what would happen! All dead if they played
any tricks. That’s what you said.’

Auden glanced across at the stairs, then looked back at Chen. ‘I’ve offered our friend
Peaskova a new deal. He’s thinking it over.’

Chen shuddered again, then looked down again. Pavel’s face was ugly, his twisted features
set in a final snarl of pain. Even in death he had been denied the peace that most
men found.
Damn you, Pavel!
he thought, torn by the sight.
It was supposed to be a job. Just a simple infiltration job.

He turned sharply. The door at the head of the stairs had opened slightly. A moment
later there was a clattering on the steps. Chen looked. Two weapons lay there at the
sergeant’s feet
– a rifle and a knife.

‘Okay,’ Peskova called down. ‘I’ll do what you say.’

Chen turned back, swallowing drily. His stomach had tightened to a cold, hard knot.
A deal. They were going to make a deal with the bastard. He lowered Pavel gently,
carefully, then turned back,
looking across at Auden. But Auden had turned away. He had forgotten him already.

‘All right,’ Auden was saying. ‘I’m coming up. Throw the door open wide, then go to
the far side of the room and stay there with your hands in the air. If I see
any
movement I’ll open fire. Understand me?’

‘I understand.’

Chen pushed his hands together to stop them shaking, then pulled himself up onto his
feet. The effort made him double up, coughing. For a moment his head swam and he almost
fell, but then it
cleared. He straightened up, wheezing for breath, and looked across.

Auden was halfway up the stairs now, moving slowly, cautiously, one step every few
seconds, his gun tracking from side to side. Then he was at the top, framed by the
doorway. Without turning, he
called his sergeant up after him.

Chen stood there a moment, breathing deeply, slowly, getting his strength back. He
swallowed painfully, then looked about him. Where… ? Then he saw it. There, on the
floor by the wall
where they had lain him. His handgun.

He went across and picked it up, then turned back, following two of Auden’s men up
into the top room.

Peskova stood against the back wall, his hands resting loosely on his head. He was
looking across at Auden, his chin raised arrogantly, his eyes smiling cruelly, almost
triumphantly, knowing he
was safe.

Chen shivered and looked away, sickened by the sight of the man, barely in control
of himself now. He wanted to smash that arrogant face. To wipe the smile from those
coldly mocking eyes. But it
was not Peskova he wanted. Not really. It was DeVore.

He lifted his head, forcing himself to look at him again. Yes. He could see the pale
shadow of the man in this lesser creature. Could see the same indifference behind
the eyes. A kind of
absence. Nothing that a retinal print could capture, but there nonetheless. Like his
master, Peskova had nothing but contempt for his fellow creatures. All he did was
shaped by a cold and absolute
dismissal of their separate existence. They were things for his amusement.
Things
…

Chen looked down again, the trembling in him so marked now that he had to clench his
left fist again and again to control it.

Such power DeVore had. Such awful power, to cast so many in his own dark image.

‘Kuan Yin! Look at this!’

The sergeant had been moving about the room, searching. In the far corner he had come
across a large shape covered by a sheet. Now he turned, facing them, the colour drained
from his face.

‘Watch him closely!’ Auden said to the man at his side, then went across to where
his sergeant stood. Chen followed.

He was not sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this. The man was stretched naked
over the saddle, his hands and feet bound tightly to the stirrups. Dark smears of
congealed blood
coated his legs and arms and the lower part of his back, and he was split from arse
to stomach.

‘Gods…’ Auden said softly, walking about the body. ‘I’d heard of this, but I never
dreamed…’ He fell silent.

Chen felt the bile rise to his throat. The man’s eyes bulged, but they were lifeless
now. He had choked to death. Not surprisingly. His balls had been cut from him and
stitched into his
mouth.

‘Who is this?’ Auden asked, looking across at Peskova.

Peskova stared back coldly, almost defiantly. ‘A guard. His name was Chang Yan. He
had been stealing…’

‘Stealing…’ Auden made to shake his head, then turned away. ‘Cover it up,’ he said
to his sergeant, meeting his eyes a moment, a look of disgust passing between
them.

‘You made a deal,’ said Chen, glaring at Auden. ‘Was this a part of it?’

Auden glanced at him, then turned away, moving back towards Peskova.

‘I made a deal.’

Chen followed him across, something still and cold and hard growing in the depths
of him.

Auden stopped, three, four paces from Peskova, looking about the room. Then he turned
and looked directly at the man. There was something like a smile on his lips. ‘Is
that how you deal
with thieves out here?’

Peskova’s face had hardened. He had been worried momentarily. Now, seeing that hint
of a smile, he relaxed again, misinterpreting it. His own smile widened. ‘Not always.’

‘So it was special?’

Peskova looked down. ‘You could say that. Mind you, I’m only sorry it wasn’t his friend,
Teng. I would have liked to have seen that bastard beg for mercy.’ He looked up
again, laughing, as if it was a joke only he and Auden could share. ‘These Han…’

Chen stared at him coldly. ‘And Pavel? What about him? He wasn’t Han…’