Chapter 36
Liu was standing in the doorway.
Filthy, exhausted, but alive. And apparently relieved to see them.
They, on the other hand, were not so sure.
He took a step toward them, and when Alice also stepped forward, Vivien held her back. Then released her grip and let her go.
They were beyond the point where caution might be helpful. If Liu was working for, maybe even running Pangu, they were clearly screwed. It was over.
If he was not, then maybe they had a chance.
Either way, holding her daughter back from him would not keep her safe.
After hugging Alice tight, he turned to the others. His smile widened as he looked at the man and woman standing beside Vivien.
“Kai-wen?”
“Shi. And this is my wife, Ming-na.”
She bowed. “You saved him many years ago. Thank you for that.”
“I didn’t really know if you were still alive.” He turned to Vivien and Alice. “You found him. How?”
“We’ll tell you later,” said Vivien. “Maybe we should start with why you’re here. And why we are. Why did Liam want us to come to fish ball island?”
“Because he knew this was one of my covert sites.”
“One of them?” asked Vivien.
“I set up food stalls throughout China, to collect and pass along information.”
Now Vivien smiled, taking in his girth. “You always were insatiable.”
It was not, however, clear by the way she looked at him that she was talking about food.
“So, you’re working against the regime?” asked Kai-wen.
“I’m loyal to China, but not this regime.”
“Are you Pangu?” asked Alice.
He looked his daughter full in the face.
“I was once, with your mother. But not this Pangu. These are terrorists. Thugs. Fanatics. The end does not justify the means. The end is defined by the means. Nothing good can come from the mass murder of innocents. The new China, if there is to be one, could not survive on that foundation. Nor should it.”
“Your network of food stalls includes Auntie Gugu’s bakery?” said Vivien.
“Shi. You met her? Isn’t she wonderful?” His broad smile flattened when he saw their faces. “What?”
“Security agents tracked us there,” said Kai-wen. “She distracted them while we escaped.”
“They have her?”
Kai-wen nodded and watched as Liu reached his hand out to grab the back of a chair before his legs let go. He’d been teetering on the cliff for too long, and this news pushed him over.
He sat down with a thud, barely saving himself from falling off.
“She knows we were heading here to Cheung Chau,” said Ming-na.
“But not to which stall exactly,” said Alice. She paused, thinking, and then asked quietly, “Do you think they’ll force her to talk?”
Liu looked at his daughter. Something about her naivete warmed his heart and he hated to crush it. “She will. Everyone does eventually. But she’s tough. She’ll hold out as long as she can. Which is why you made it this far. But we have to leave.”
There was a commotion in the kitchen. The cook ran in and spoke so quickly, in such a thick accent, only Ming-na understood.
“She says the security forces are searching all the food stalls and restaurants. They’re looking for us. They’re two streets over.”
“Go, go,” shouted the cook, once again waving her spatula, which seemed an extension of her arm.
This they understood: Go. Run!
“No, stop,” Liu ordered them. “It’s too late. Vivien, you need to hide. You’re known. The rest of you, get into the kitchen.” He turned to the crazed cook. “Give them aprons and something to do. Quickly!”
Coconut buns, coconut buns, coconut buns. Alice’s hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t get the apron on. She needed another mantra.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Here.” Someone grabbed the apron and put it over her head. They were her mother’s hands.
“Get out of sight,” Liu ordered Vivien, and while she automatically bristled at being bossed around by him, she did as she was told. He then turned to the cook. “Ready? Open the doors.”
Stunned by the suddenness with which everything had changed, and the authority in his voice, they did as he commanded.
Alice was given a knife and cutting board. Kai-wen and Ming-na were placed at the sink to wash and dry, while Vivien folded herself in an opening under the kitchen counter. And screwed her eyes shut.
How did it come to this? The great pro-democracy activist who spoke in front of the UN Security Council to a standing ovation. Who networked with the great and the wealthy, at cocktail parties. Now hiding under a chipped Formica counter on fish ball island.
A new, horrifying thought occurred to her. Was that what her obituary would say? Vivien Li died on fish ball island, huddled under a counter?
Her Shanghai Tang smelled of dead fish, the villagers would be quoted as saying.
The ignominy. But it was not enough to propel her out. She shoved her tiny body deeper into a corner. She was surprised to find herself praying for deliverance. What was shocking weren’t the prayers, but that they were for her daughter. Not herself.
Alice must survive. Alice must survive. Please, God, let Alice live.
Alice had no sooner picked up a knife and begun chopping shallots than she saw armed agents approaching the stall.
She watched as her father stepped outside and confronted them.
Their weapons rose, all aimed at Liu.
He stood fast, glaring at them. “I want all your names. Do you realize what you have done? What you’re doing?”
“Step aside,” ordered the most senior agent.
“On whose authority?”
“Get on the ground, hands behind your head,” he insisted.
“Put down your weapons!” Liu commanded as the senior officer approached.
The agents paused, surprised, and stared at the man who’d spoken with such authority. One young man lowered his weapon, but the leader kept his solidly on Liu.
“Do you know who I am?” demanded Liu.
“You’re the one standing in our way. Get down or be shot. This is your last warning.”
“You’re threatening not just a senior officer, but the most senior. The commander of your commander.”
The senior agent did not believe this filthy, disheveled man.
“I am Liu Tongzheng, second-in-command at the Ministry of State Security. About to be named as head. A member of the Politburo. And you are…?” Liu stepped forward to look at the man’s name tag. “Put down your weapon, Captain Hu. Now.”
“Stand your ground!” commanded the officer. “ID.”
Liu slowly brought it out. As confident as he wanted to appear, his heart was beating furiously. This was a dangerous, delicate situation. The agents were on edge, nervous. If a balloon popped, if someone dropped a plank, if there was any sudden loud noise or movement, they’d shoot.
An agent grabbed the ID and handed it to her commander, but not before glancing at it. Her eyes widening as she saw the photo.
“He’s telling the truth,” she whispered.
Captain Hu glanced at it, then back up at Liu. Then down again.
Then he stood up, holstered his weapon, and saluted.
Inside the café, they watched. This was the moment of truth. Would Liu turn them in?
“What’s happening?” Vivien hissed.
“Shhhh,” said Kai-wen. “For once in your life, be quiet.”
Liu had turned to the young security agent who’d lowered his weapon when first commanded.
The young man was smiling, obviously expecting a commendation. He was mistaken.
Liu held out his hand. “Give me your weapon.”
He did. Liu put it into his belt. “You’re suspended. Surrender your ID.”
“Why?”
“You lowered your weapon on the word of a complete stranger. Your commander did not tell you to. You disobeyed orders.”
“But you’re the deputy head of the MSS. Our ultimate commander.”
“You didn’t know that.” Liu turned to the senior officer. “You need to report back that you have apprehended the traitors. None survived.”
“I’m sorry, sir. What?”
“Tell them they were all killed in the exchange. Including Vivien Li.”
Captain Hu hesitated for a moment, gave a brisk nod, and sent off the message.
“Good. We’ll take a photo of the bodies in a minute. Choose your most trusted agent, and tell the rest to stand down but stay here. They must contact no one. No matter what happens. In fact, collect their phones.”
His team was perplexed but trusted their leader. They gave up their phones. Then Hu and the agent followed Liu into the stall.
“Come out.” Liu offered Vivien his hand. “It’s safe.”
She took it, stood, and came face-to-face with the MSS agents. The very people they were running from. Hiding from.
This was safe?
She looked at Liu. He’d turned them in after all.
Vivien stepped in front of Alice. Straightening her jacket, she stood as tall as she could. And waited for the inevitable.
“No need to be so dramatic, Viv,” said Liu. “They’re going to help us.”
Vivien, Alice, Kai-wen, and Ming-na all stared from Liu to the MSS agents. Whose weapons were holstered. And who now bowed.
Vivien, Alice, Kai-wen, and Ming-na bowed back.
The two messages arrived on President Chen’s desk at the same time.
He’d already received the American President’s fortune cookie, about APAI and the missiles.
He’d sat down heavily and stared at it, open-mouthed.
Dear God.
He’d begun to hate the cookies. More like misfortune cookies.
Search his mind as he might, Chen could not think of any way to stop the missile strike from the USS Ronald Reagan, short of sinking the ship first. But he’d have to sink the whole fleet. And then the Americans would have no choice but to level all of China.
If Pardington couldn’t stop it, he certainly could not. Unless he managed to track down Pangu and shut it down.
His feeling that Pangu wasn’t in Xi’an had proved right.
After Liu and his ex-wife escaped the site, he had ordered a search, to make sure there wasn’t anything more there.
Not just the dig itself, but warehouse after huge warehouse of broken warriors, fragments, researchers. Hangars filled with equipment.
All stripped. All clear. No sign of anything that should not be there.
His attention had then turned to where he really suspected the terrorists were holed up. Beijing itself.
Though, of course, Pangu could be anywhere in the world. Such was the reach of the cyber-verse. And ancient gods.
Standing at his desk, holding the tiny slip of paper warning of not just his imminent death but the end of his China, Chen looked up. Looked around. And realized he was totally alone. There was no one to turn to.
Wang was dead, and a traitor. And Liu was missing, and possibly a traitor too. There was no one to consult. No one to offer comfort. He’d shoved everyone away so that he could stand magnificent. The sole focus of attention. Of adoration.
How had he missed the traitors all around him? How had he not seen it? It was possible his wife was right and his head was up his own ass.
“Too dark in there to see.” She’d been smiling as she said it, and he’d laughed too. Thinking she was just teasing him. The only one, besides his grandchildren, who could.
How he longed now to hear their laughter, and have them call him Eeyore.
But he knew he almost certainly would never hear it again. And that his wife had not been kidding. It had been her gentle attempt to get him to wake up. To pull his head out before it was too late.
And he had. Too late.
Eeyore crumpled the paper and set it on fire. Then his chef had rushed in with another misfortune cookie.
Breaking it open, he read: Vivien Li our only hope. Leave her.
Hard on that another message arrived, this one a text on his secure line.
Traitors found. All killed in exchange. Photo to follow.
Eeyore picked up the phone and told his wife to get the family as far away from Beijing as possible. Then he sat down and, alone in his splendid office, he lowered his head to his hands and wept.