The Solitary Man (48 page)

'Thirty-five,' repeated Burden.

Lucarelli looked over his right shoulder. The other Apache was just behind them. He gave a thumbs-up to Warner but the other navigator didn't return the gesture. He was probably too engrossed in his own instruments.

Lucarelli turned back to his cockpit display and let his eyes play over the instruments, most of which duplicated those on the pilot's panel. The co-pilot's cockpit was equipped with the controls and instrumentation to be able to fly the Apache, and Lucarelli was as capable a pilot as Burden, but on this mission he had only two tasks: to get them to the beacon, and to fire the Hellfire missiles. Like the DEA executive had said at the briefing, it would be a , milk run.

ZHOU PICKED UP A fruit knife off the dining table and tested its sharpness on his thumb. He went over to Carver and pressed the tip of the blade against the DEA agent's throat. A dribble of blood ran down the stainless steel. 'Did you see the men I impaled?' Zhou asked through clenched teeth. 'That's what I'm going to do to you. Do you know how long it takes to die that way?'

Carver twisted away from the knife, but Zhou pushed it deeper into his throat. For a moment it looked as if Zhou was going to kill him there and then, but he had a sudden change of heart and withdrew the blade. Blood poured from the cut. Zhou sneered at Carver. 'Look at you. Bleeding like a pig.'

The contents of Carver's pockets were on a side table. Zhou flicked through the DEA agent's passport. 'I see you've visited our country before. Thailand, Laos, Hong Kong, Vietnam; you've been to a lot of places, Mr Carver. So what brings you to my domain?' He threw the passport into Carver's lap. 'And why no visa this time? How did you get into the country? You're with the DEA, aren't you?'

I THE SOLITARY MAN 397 'I'm not with the DEA,' said Carver. 'I'm a tourist. I--'

Zhou stepped forward and sliced the knife across Carver's mouth. Blood spurted in a crimson fountain and Carver's head jerked backwards.

'Don't lie to me!' Zhou barked. 'I am not stupid! When you lie to me, you're saying that I am not an intelligent man, that I can be fooled by simple words.' He picked up the second passport, the one he'd taken from the girl. There was blood on Zhou's fingers and he smeared it over the pages as he went through it. 'This girl, who is she? Is she also with the DEA?'

Carver shook his head. 'No,' he said.

'Hong Kong Chinese. I killed a man from Hong Kong last month.' He looked at the photograph in the front of the passport. 'It's the first time the DEA has used a girl.'

'She's not with the DEA,' said Carver. He had difficulty forming words, every movement of his lips causing him agonising pain.

'Tsang Chau-ling,' said Zhou. 'I'm going to have some fun with this Tsang Chauling.'

Bird looked up as if he'd been stung. 'What?' he said. 'What did you say her name was?'

THE BUFFALO BOY WALKED between his animals, talking to them in a low, hushed voice. Normally they lay down to sleep as soon as the sun went down, but something was upsetting them. When they were lazy or disobedient, the only way to make them behave was to hit them with his stick, but the Buffalo Boy knew that they had to be calmed with soft words. One of them, the biggest, with huge backswept horns as thick as the boy's thigh, stamped a hoof on the ground and grunted.

The Buffalo Boy tucked his stick under his arm and patted the animal's flank. He'd never seen them like this before. Even snakes didn't scare them this much. Two of the females were edging away from the herd and the Buffalo Boy ran over to bring them back. He heard the noise then, far off in the distance. It sounded like a truck being driven up a hill, its engine straining against the gradient. It 398 STEPHEN LEATHER wasn't a truck, though, the Buffalo Boy knew, because there were no roads near by, just fields and tracks and jungle. He held his stick in both hands as if preparing to beat off an attacker.

The noise became louder and louder until it was a roaring growl that he could feel vibrating through his chest. Still he could see nothing, just the trees and stars and the hills in the distance.

'It's not a dragon,' he whispered to himself. 'There aren't any dragons. Not here.'

The big bull buffalo lowered its horns and pawed at the ground as if he too was preparing to meet an attacker. Together they waited for the source of the noise to reveal itself.

The roar reached a whistling crescendo and then two massive shapes swooped overhead and the Buffalo Boy ducked involuntarily. The herd scattered in panic and the Buffalo Boy turned around to stare after the helicopters as the slipstream tugged at his tattered T-shirt and shorts. The grass around him whirled and whispered as if it was being ruffled by unseen hands.

The Buffalo Boy stood stock still, staring after the helicopters. He wondered how much a helicopter would cost. One day, he promised himself, when he was as rich as Zhou Yuanyi, he'd have his own helicopter. And a Mercedes. And a gold wristwatch studded with diamonds.

The helicopters disappeared from view but the Buffalo Boy didn't move until the noise of their turbines had faded away.

THE PADLOCK CLICKED OPEN and Hutch pulled it free. He threw it to the side and yanked open the barred door. He rushed to Chau-ling and lifted her head. Her eyelids flickered and Hutch felt a wave of relief wash over him. She hadn't moved all the time he'd been working on the padlock and while he knew they wouldn't have bothered locking up a corpse, he had still feared the worst.

'Chau-ling,' he said, stroking the side of her face.

She opened her eyes and looked at him in disbelief. 'Warren?' she said.

I THE SOLITARY MAN 399 'What the hell are you doing here?' he asked.

She put her head back and looked up at her bound hands. She forced a smile. 'Just hanging around,' she said.

Hutch hugged her and she grunted. 'Maybe you should get me down first,' she said, then suddenly stiffened. 'Did you activate the transmitter?' she asked.

Hutch was stunned. 'How did you know--?' he began, but she cut him off mid-sentence.

'Did you press the button?' she asked.

'Yes, it's all right. Help's on the way.'

'No, you don't understand,' she gasped. 'They're not coming to help. They're coming to kill Zhou Yuanyi. They're going to kill everybody.'

Hutch took a step back, surprised by her ferocity. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

'Just get me down. Quickly.'

'I think you should just leave her where she is,' said a voice. Hutch whirled around. It was Bird. In one hand he was holding Chau-ling's passport, in the other, a large automatic.

Hutch raised his hands. Bird stepped into the cell. He dropped the passport at Hutch's feet. 'I know about the girl,' he said, 'but what's your connection to the DEA agent?'

'Bird, I just want to get out of here, that's all. I've done what Winter wanted, I helped you get Harrigan out.'

'You're working with Carver, aren't you? That's why they didn't shoot us at the river.' He pointed the gun at Hutch's face. 'I should kill you right now.' His face broke into a malicious grin. 'But I think Zhou will be more than generous if I let him do it. He loves to torture traitors.'

Hutch took another step back. 'I'm not a traitor, Bird. I don't know what Carver's doing here, or why he brought Chau-ling with him. But I'm . . .' He lunged at the gun but Bird easily evaded the attack. Hutch raised his hands again. 'Okay, okay. Take it easy.'

Bird gestured with the gun. 'Come on, we'll go and see what Billy has to say.'

'We don't have time for this,' said Chauling.

Bird ignored her. He motioned for Hutch to leave.

'The helicopters are coming, they're going to kill us all,'

Chau-ling cried. 'Why won't you listen to me?' Tears ran down her face.

Bird turned his head and looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. 'What do you mean?' he asked. 'Who's coming?'

Chau-ling spat at Bird's face and he flinched reflexively. Hutch lashed out with his foot and kicked Bird's wrist. The gun flew through the air and thudded against the wall of the hut. Bird grabbed for Hutch's throat. Hutch ducked and punched him in the solar plexus, putting all of his weight behind the blow. Bird staggered back, winded. Hutch kept up the offensive, hitting him twice more in the stomach and then kicking him between the legs, the attack so fast and furious that Bird had no chance to defend himself. Bird bent over, his arms around his stomach. Hutch dived for the gun but Bird kicked out and sent Hutch sprawling. Hutch managed to get to the gun but as his fingers gripped the butt, Bird grabbed him by the hair. Hutch twisted around and smashed the gun into Bird's face. Bird fell to his knees and then pitched forward, hitting the ground like a felled tree. He managed to push himself up on to his knees but Hutch hit him with the gun a second time, crashing it down on the back of the man's neck. Bird fell to the ground again. This time he didn't get up.

'Hurry,' implored Chau-ling. 'We don't have much time.'

BART LUCARELLI FLIPPED HIS monocle sight to the side and leaned forward to press both eyes against the eyepieces of the TADS/PNVS display. 'There she is,' he said.

'Got it,' said Burden. 'Do you wanna check that Hal and Roger have picked it up?'

Before Lucarelli could click his microphone switch, Roger Warner's voice came over the headset.

'Contact at three miles. Do you have it?'

'Affirmative. Three miles.' Lucarelli switched his VDU display from the navigation phase to the attack phase and changed the map scale to 1:50,000 to get a close-up view of his target. He flicked the switches that armed the Hellfire missiles. 'Missiles armed.'

The cyclic between Lucarelli's legs moved towards his groin as Burden put the Apache into a gentle climb. Altitude would help the missile guidance systems lock on to the distant transmitter. Two miles was the optimum range; close enough so that the missile would be sure to lock on to the signal, but far enough away to ensure that the Apaches wouldn't be fired upon. According to Jake Gregory, the men on the ground had nothing more powerful than assault rifles, which would be useless against the heavily armoured helicopters, but there was no point in taking unnecessary risks.

Lucarelli used his left thumb to orientate the Apache's radar to the target area and scanned it. He swallowed as he scrutinised the visual display. Less than half a mile to go. There were two pistol grips either side of the TADS/PNVS system which controlled the forward-looking infra-red sensor and fired the Apache's weapons. Warner slid his hands around them in a soft caress. One pull of the trigger with his left hand and a one-hundred-pound Hellfire missile would be launched. It was an awesome weapon, its seventeen-pound warhead was more than capable of taking out an armoured tank. Warner could only imagine what havoc it would wreak on the jungle camp.

HUTCH AND CHAU-LING WALKED purposefully across the compound as if they had every right to be there. Chauling kept her face down. Three of Zhou's men passed them without a second glance. Hutch had Bird's gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, covered by his sweatshirt.

'How long before they get here?' he whispered.

'I don't know,' she said. 'Tim just said that they'd pick up the transmitter and home in on it.'

'But where are they coming from? From Thailand?'

'I don't know.'

Another group of soldiers walked by, smoking cheroots and talking among themselves. One of them looked at Hutch. Hutch smiled and the soldier smiled back.

The two guards at the base of the steps to Zhou's quarters 402 STEPHEN LEATHER moved to block their way but Hutch said 'Zhou Yuanyi' and rushed by them. Chau-ling hurried after him, taking the steps two at a time. The guards turned and watched them go, unsure whether or not to go after them.

'Don't look back,' whispered Hutch. He stepped across the threshold and pulled out the gun.

Zhou was standing over Carver, pistol-whipping him about the face. Winter and Harrigan were watching. All three men had their backs to Hutch. The only person who saw him walk across the wooden floor was the old servant, who scurried away into a side room. Chau-ling stayed in the doorway. Hutch kept his arm outstretched with the gun pointing straight at Zhou's head.

Winter turned first. He took his cigar out of his mouth. 'What's up, old lad?' he asked. His voice was relaxed, but his eyes were hard.

Hutch didn't look at him. He walked right up to Zhou and put the gun against the back of his neck. Zhou stiffened and Harrigan's mouth fell open in surprise.

'Anyone moves and he's dead,' said Hutch.

'You've been watching too many movies,' said Winter. 'You're not going to pull the trigger, and you know you're not.'

Still Hutch didn't look at Winter. He took the gun from Zhou's hand and stepped back. 'Don't push me, Billy,' he said. 'I've nothing to lose any more. You've taken everything away. Chau-ling, take this gun.' He held Zhou's gun behind him and Chau-ling took it, gingerly, as if she was afraid it might go off accidentally.

'We can talk about this, Hutch,' said Winter.

'I'm through talking,' said Hutch. He grabbed the back of Zhou's collar and forced the gun against the back of his head. 'Now, we're going to walk very slowly out of here.'

'Walk where, old lad?' asked Winter, an amused smile on his face.

'Just out of here. And stay where I can see you. Ray, get a knife from the table and cut him free,' he said, gesturing towards Carver.

Harrigan did as he was told. Chau-ling kept him covered with Zhou's gun.

THE SOLITARY MAN N)3 'Young lady, I'd take the safety catch off if I were you,' sa.- , Winter. d 'Ignore him, Chauling.'

'I was just trying to help,' said Winter.

'Stay where I can see you, Billy. And put your hands k the air.' n Winter raised his arms. He looked longingly at his cigar. 'Cav I put my cigar in my mouth?'

Hutch ignored him. 'Tim, are you okay?'

'Oh, it's Tim, is it?' said Winter. He put the cigar in his moutk then put his hand back in the air. 'Old friends, are you?'

Carver stood up unsteadily. 'I'm okay,' he said.

'Chau-ling, help him,' said Hutch. He pushed Zhou toward^ the entrance. He kept the barrel of the gun hard up against th^ back of the man's neck.