Twelve Hours To Destiny

by John Glasby

  The men were talking loudly among themselves, totally oblivious of their danger. Carradine tensed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the others ranged along one wall, pressing their bodies close to it, the pale light glittering off the blades of the drawn daggers. The three men approached the top of the stairs. An instant later, they appeared less than ten yards away. For a moment there was a taut, stunned silence as they stared at each other. Then Tai Fan drew back one huge arm, flicked it forward and one of the men died instantly with a knife in the jugular, a dark red stain pouring down his neck and into the collar of his tunic. Another man died a moment later as he made a futile attempt to unsling the rifle over his shoulder. The third man, a trifle more quick-witted than his companions, hurled himself to one side and the thrown knife missed his shoulder by less than an inch and clattered metallically against the wall behind him. As Carradine watched, fascinated, the Chinese suddenly hurled himself forward, the butt of the rifle lifted as he began the downward swing which would bring it crashing against the side of Carradine’s head.

  Everything had happened so quickly that only instinct saved him at that moment. Dropping to his knees, he dived for the man’s legs. As he whirled sideways at the same time, he expected to feel the impact of the gun on his skull. But the move had taken the man completely by surprise. He stumbled. A knee thudded into the back of Carradine’s neck as he scrambled on to one knee, he saw the other struggling to regain his balance, one hand thrust out against the wall in an effort to steady himself, the other still gripping the butt of the gun as he reversed it, fingers moving down the stock towards the trigger guard.

  Carradine’s muscles tightened. In a violent corkscrew of motion, he forced himself upward. His left shoulder caught the man under the leg and exerting all of his strength, he threw him completely off-balance. The long steel blade sliced into the guard’s stomach with a sickening feel as if it was sliding into lard. He pushed with all of the force in his arm and shoulder, until the knuckles felt the rough cloth of the uniform, then twisted hard with his wrist. A thin bleat of sound came from the other’s lips, the flailing arms sought to catch him around the neck.

  Drawing a harsh gasp of air into his heaving lungs, Carradine pulled himself upright, stared down into the terrible face that sank slowly to the floor, the lips drawn back from stained, broken teeth, the eyes wide and fixed, with the life ebbing swiftly from them. Slowly, agonisingly, the dying man strove to lift the rifle, to bring it to bear on him, to press the trigger with the last ounce of strength left in him. Then the sweating yellow face dropped back with a sharp, abrupt movement. The peaked cap fell off the shaven skull as the head struck the ground.

  Carradine swayed and panted hoarsely through his clenched teeth. There was sweat on his forehead, trickling into his eyes, stinging them as he blinked several times. In the steady, ringing silence, he heard Ts’ai Luan say urgently: “Are you all right, Steve?”

  With an effort, he nodded his head, struggled to clear it of the grey fog that swirled within his brain. Tai Fan moved purposefully forward, grasped two of the bodies by the high collars, lifted them clear of the ground as if they were little more than children and hauled them back down the corridor to where Ts’ai Luan had moved away towards one of the doors. She opened it cautiously, peered inside, then nodded. Less than a minute later, all three bodies were out of sight and there was no sign in the passage that death had struck three times.

  There was no one on the stairs as they made their way down to the second floor and the long corridor, with the powerful lights set close to the ceiling, was also empty. Carradine gave it only a quick, cursory glance then followed the others down towards the lower floors. The muted humming of machines from behind the closed doors reached their ears as they progressed towards the basement. This was going to be the most dangerous part of the job, he thought grimly. And they were working against time now. Sooner or later those two guards on the grounds are going to be missed and once their bodies were discovered, the fat would really be in the fire; the entire building would be searched, every entrance and exit sealed. There was the feel of inexorable time breathing down the back of his neck.

  A few more seconds. A few more yards. Then they were at the bottom of the stairs. Ahead of them, the long corridor, with soldiers on the other floors, stretched away into the distance. But here there was one big difference. There were no brilliant lights set against the ceiling. The passage was in almost total darkness, except for a few beams of light which slanted out from the doors on either side.

  “Better than we had hoped,” murmured Ts’ai Luan. “At least we have the advantage of darkness.”

  Carradine paused, then nodded. There were likely to be several prisoners down here and there would be an inevitable delay until they discovered the cell which housed Chao Lin. But there was nothing to be done about that. Leaving Tai Fan at the end of the corridor, close to the bottom stairs to keep watch, they inched their way along the darkened passage. As they moved forward, Carradine noticed that at intervals, there were long recesses set in the walls between certain of the doors. It was not until he was less than five feet from the nearest that it came to him why they were there. Yes, damn it! There was a small table set back into the wall and a man seated at it, a snub-nosed machine-gun resting beside his chair within easy reach of his right hand. He straightened himself, touched the girl on the shoulder, nodding towards the recess, placing a finger to his lips.

  Flattening his body against the wall, he inched along for a couple of feet and then warily edged his head around the corner. He took a single, all-embracing look and then drew back, waiting for the flooding of his heart to settle back to normal. The guard was half-asleep, his head nodding forward on to his arms, any thought of danger so far from his thoughts that he was completely relaxed.

  Carradine stood quite still, tensing himself, measuring in his mind’s eye, the distance to the other. Then he thrust the knife back into his belt, grinned tightly at the girl as she looked at him in momentary surprise, motioned her to stay where she was. Inching an eye around the corner again, he saw that the man had not changed his position. He still leaned forward in his chair, the back of the neck exposed in the faint light which filtered through a nearby door. Stiffening the fingers of his right hand, he sucked in a gust of air, then took the three quick, silent steps which brought him immediately behind the unsuspecting man. The edge of his hand smashed against the nape of the proffered neck. Without a sound the other jerked forward. Before the man’s face could hit the table, Carradine had swung the palm of his other hand beneath the chin, jerking it back. There was a faintly audible snap, then the Chinese slumped sideways in the chair. The eyes were open as if in stunned surprise, but they were rolled up so that only the whites showed and when he felt the flaccid wrist, there was no detectable pulse.

  Ts’ai Luan moved swiftly past him, scarcely pausing to give the dead guard a second glance. She reached the closed door, stretched up on tiptoe and peered through the iron grille set in the stout wood. Turning, she shook her head, moved quickly on to the next. Carefully, Carradine bent, hooked his hands under the man’s armpits and drew him silently out of the chair, pulling him around the table where he laid him on the floor, out of sight of anyone walking along the corridor. It would not allay suspicion for long, but at the moment, seconds were precious and vital.

  Ts’ai Luan uttered a faint sound as the breath gushed from her lips. He glanced up quickly. She motioned him forward.

  “My uncle,” she said breathlessly. “He is in there!”

  “Then the guard must have the keys with him.” He went back to the inert body, rolled it over on to its back. There was a small bunch of keys attached to the man’s belt. Swiftly, he pulled them off, went back to the girl. The first three keys did not fit, but the fourth turned easily in the lock and he swung the door open, praying that no one further along the corridor would hear the sound or notice the faint beam of yellow light which spilled out into the passage.

&n
bsp; The room was bare except for a table in the middle and a low bunk against one wall. The man who lay on the bunk lifted his head weakly as they burst in. For a moment, there was a look of loathing and resignation on the lined face, an expression which changed quickly to one of relief and stunned surprise.

  “Ts’ai Luan!” The voice was a dry, husky whisper which scarcely carried across the room.

  The girl said something urgently, in rapid Chinese that Carradine could not understand, saw the other nod. The old man’s gaze flickered in his direction. In faultless English, he said softly: “So you are the agent from London?” As Carradine nodded wordlessly, he went on: “I knew they would send someone but I never thought to see you here, my friend.”

  “There were times when I didn’t expect to make it myself,” Carradine said dryly. “But there is no time now to talk. That will come later. We have to get you out of here before the alarm is raised. There are enough dead men lying around to make that a certainty within the next few minutes.” Even as he spoke, he noticed the heavy chain around the man’s ankle, a chain which was securely fastened to a shackle in the wall. One glance at the padlock near Chao Lin’s ankle told Carradine, with a sinking feeling in his chest, that none of the keys he had taken from the dead card would fit. What now? Desperately, he forced himself to think clearly. This was something they had not foreseen.

  There was no time to hang about. Any moment now and one of the guards would be missed. Were they going to be foiled at the very last minute after coming so far?

  Again it was a girl whose quick-witted mind supplied the answer. She turned quickly on her heel, moved like a wraith into the passage. Less than ten seconds later, she was back, with Tai Fan close on her heels. The huge Chinese took one swift look at the chain, then grasped it in both hands close to the point where it encircled the other’s ankle. Slowly, inexorably, the other began to pull. Sweat showed in tiny beads on his face and the great muscles under the tunic bulged as he exerted tremendous pressure. God, but the man was terrifically strong. Incredibly, the metal began to bend. Then, with an explosive snap, one of the links burst.

  Dropping the length of chain on to the bare mattress, Tai Fan bent, caught Chao Lin around the waist and hoisted him over his shoulders, taking the other’s weight without any effort.

  Now to get out of this fearful place! As they made their way silently up the steep stairs to the third floor the building continued to hum and throb all about them. It seemed incredible, he thought to himself, that less than seven minutes had passed since he had swung in through that window. Yet even in that short space of time, someone could have discovered that rope in the corridor and there could be a party of guards waiting for them.

  But miraculously, the corridor, when they finally reached it, was empty. The rope was where they had left it, snaking down through the half-open window. Swiftly, without speaking, the men climbed over the ledge and were gone from sight. Carradine waited while Tai Fan, still carrying Chao Lin with one hand clasped tightly around the other’s middle, lowered himself to the ground, then followed, ignoring the burns on the palms of his hands as he slid down. He held the end of the rope while Ts’ai Luan descended, then they were running over the open ground, into the deserted street and across to where the truck waited in the mouth of the narrow alley.

  Still no sound came from the building a hundred yards away, nothing to indicate that there was any pursuit. But their luck would only hold for so long, Carradine thought grimly. It would not be long before all hell erupted. Carefully, Tai Fan placed Chao Lin in the back of the vehicle. The girl climbed in and as Carradine ran around to the front and slid into the seat, Tai Fan squeezed his huge bulk beneath the wheel. There was a broad smile on his moon face. He’s actually enjoying this, thought Carradine. God, he must hate the Communists. Sooner or later, there would be a price on this man’s head once the finger of suspicion was pointed at him. Not that Tai Fan would mind overmuch. In many countries there were men like him, men who lived and died by violence, fighting for lost causes. Outwardly, a gentle giant, he killed viciously and expertly, without asking questions, without a qualm on his conscience, whenever the situation dictated.

  Tai Fan switched on the ignition. In the stillness, the noise seemed deafening. God, but that would be heard for miles. The engine started, then died. Unhurriedly, Tai Fan tried again. This time, it fired. He let in the clutch, took the brake off, and they moved slowly out into the main street. Spinning the wheel, the other guided the truck past the lighted building, heading out of the city. For a moment, Carradine was on the point of telling the other they were going the wrong way, then he sat back. The other’s reason was obvious when he paused to think about it. If there should be any pursuit, they could easily be stopped by roadblocks in the city. A radio warning from the Red Dragon Headquarters and every patrol in Canton would be alerted and on the lookout for them. Out in the darkness of the countryside, they would have a far better chance of throwing off any pursuers.

  Very soon, the lights of Canton were left behind and Tai Fan switched on the powerful headlights as they drove through the absolute darkness along a winding, twisting road which, from Carradine’s scanty knowledge of the area led westward towards the hills. Settling back in the seat, he fought his taut muscles, forced them to relax. So far, so good. But the Red Dragon would not give up easily. Once it was discovered that Chao Lin was gone, a full-scale hunt would be mounted for them.

  Tai Fan was pushing the truck to its utmost limit, skidding around corners which showed abruptly in the probing beams of the headlights scant seconds before they came upon them. He seemed to know the road intimately and after a few scares, Carradine was content to sit back and allow the other to drive as he thought fit, suddenly confident in the other’s ability to get them safely to wherever they were headed.

  Even now, it was almost impossible to believe that they had got away with it, without a scratch. The enemy had been so supremely confident that their Headquarters was impregnable that the thought of anyone breaking in and rescuing one of the prisoners did not seem to have ever occurred to them, beyond the normal precaution of doubling the guard.

  They kept up a good speed along the winding road, the heavy truck bouncing and jolting precariously from side to side. It was necessary that they should put as much distance between themselves and Canton as possible. Through the window, he had a blurred impression of low hedges, an occasional hut, which flashed by in a haze of shadows. The moon threw very little light over the scene and they passed no traffic on the road.

  They drove through a small village. Not a single light showed in any of the houses on either side. For all the signs of life there was, it might have been a ghost town, abandoned decades before. Half a mile further on, the road branched. Tai Fan took the right-hand branch. Slowly, they began to climb. The note of the engine changed subtly, straining a little as the gradient increased.

  The headlight beams bobbed and swayed as they bumped over the uneven road surface. Evidently the Chinese Communists were not concerned with keeping the roads in good repair unless they were important ones, linking the military sites with the big cities. He wondered vaguely where this particular one went. Most likely it climbed the hills and then meandered into the plains on the other side.

  His thoughts gelled abruptly in his head. A brief flash of light that showed for a fraction of a second in the wing mirror on the side of the truck. Wrenching his head around, he watched the flat, smooth glass. For a long moment there was nothing visible. Had he imagined it? In the darkness, with his thoughts in such a turmoil, it was easy to be tricked. Then it came again. For the first time, he saw it clearly. The unmistakable twin glow of headlights far back down the road. God, it hadn’t taken them long to get after them! The others were perhaps two miles away, approaching the village they had just passed through. Would their pursuers guess which of the two roads they had taken? Would the red tail lights, small as they were, give them away? Keeping a close watch on the other vehicle, he fa
ncied that it was moving more slowly now as if the driver was trying to read their minds, outguess them. Then the headlights turned in their direction.

  Now we’re for it! It was impossible to tell the kind of vehicle which was behind them, but without doubt it would not be as heavy and unwieldy as the truck and it was only a matter of time, a very short time come before they caught up with them. He touched Tai Fan’s arm, motioned to the mirror, saw the other nod in understanding. The truck lurched forward as the driver pressed his foot down on the accelerator.

  Reaching forward in the dimness, Carradine found the Luger where he had left it, checked it carefully, then held it on his knee. If the worst came to the worst, he was prepared to sell his life dearly.

  Out of the edge of his vision, he glanced at Tai Fan. The big man did not seem unduly worried at the prospect of being followed, even though he must surely have realised who it was on their tail.

  They swung sharply around a right-angled bend, still climbing. Through the window, Carradine caught a brief glimpse of needle-tipped rocks which thrust up on the edge of a deep precipice. Hell, they had only to side-swipe a couple of yards and they were over the side and God alone know how deep that sheer drop was. He swore under his breath. In the small mirror, the headlight seemed nearer, were clearly gaining on them with every passing minute. His fingers tightened convulsively on the butt of the Luger. If only the others in the back had guns, they may be able to stop and make a fight of it, might even up the odds a little. But was nothing more potent or lethal than throwing knives, what sort of chance did they have? The answer to that was not one to give anyone a feeling of confidence.

  Tai Fan was leaning forward in his seat now, the brilliant headlights rising and falling hypnotically, picking out the edge of the narrow road, vanishing into nothingness whenever the light wavered over the edge of the drop.

  Did the other have some kind of plan for throwing those men off their tail, he wondered, noticing once more that there was no worry on the big man’s broad, fleshy features? If he had, then Carradine failed to see what it might be. This road could go on and on for miles before they reached another village and even then, the chances of them getting help against men of the dreaded Red Dragon organisation were slim indeed. Abruptly, Tai Fan switched the headlights full on. And it was now possible, in the clear air, to see for more than two hundred yards. Carradine edged forward, peering through the windscreen. There was something up ahead of them, indistinguishable at first, but with details becoming clearer as they thundered towards it. Then he saw that it was a narrow, humped-backed bridge, one which probably spanned a small, swift-running stream which raced down the side of the hill and plunged in a miniature waterfall off the edge. On one side, there was a sheer wall of rock. On the other a low, stone bridge which, as they came close to it, showed signs of extensive repairs. Carradine could visualise why these repairs would be needed. In the dark, especially in rain or snow, this road would become treacherous in the extreme. God alone knew how many poor devils had failed to take the road at that point and gone crashing to their deaths many hundreds of feet below.