by Zhou HaoHui
Liu shone his flashlight from one body to another, moving around the circle. “Twelve,” he said. “Twelve bodies.”
“There were thirteen videos. Twelve victims executed. Peng is the thirteenth,” Yin said, suppressing a shiver.
Liu slammed his fist into the wall. “It’s a literal dead end.”
“Look there!” Yin exclaimed. He pointed his flashlight at the left wall. “The wire splits.”
Yin was right. One strand continued along the left wall, while another ran along the ceiling and through the cadavers. Liu noticed that another wire split off from the latter one.
“There are three separate wires,” Liu said.
“But why? Where the hell do they go?”
Doing his best not to scream, Liu hugged the left wall and edged around the dangling bodies. The first wire led to a new tunnel, vanishing into darkness. He aimed his flashlight back at the main tunnel’s rear and right walls. The hanging corpses blocked his view for the most part, but he was able to make out two more tunnels. One for each wire.
“Are you kidding me?” Yin asked in disbelief. He had not moved another inch closer to the bodies.
The paths in these mining tunnels had been dug according to the locations of the mineral veins within the mine, Liu explained, so it was not unusual for them to split off in this manner. Unfortunately, these paths wouldn’t make their search any easier.
“For all we know, only one of these wires controls the handcuffs and the other two are dummy wires,” the SPU officer said. Lifting his radio to his lips, he reported the new development and the horrific discovery of the bodies to his superiors.
Xiong ordered the team members not to split up. Instead, they were to trace each wire into its respective passage together. If they happened to find a switch in any of the tunnels, he instructed, they were to try turning it on. After all, these wires were linked to a pair of handcuffs, not a bomb.
Yin and Liu entered the left chamber first. The wires were concealed inside the scaffold’s steel pipes. At the end of each section of pipe, a wire emerged and threaded back into the next section. This pattern continued uninterrupted as they walked deeper in, and the farther they walked the longer the passage seemed to stretch.
After about fifty meters, they spotted a round electronic switch mounted to the scaffold. Yin stood guard as Liu squatted and studied it.
“We’ve already found the switch at the end of one of the wires,” Liu said into his radio. “There’s a signal emitter here. Activating it should send out an electric signal tuned to a specific frequency. If it matches the handcuffs’ frequency, then you should be able to open the cuffs.”
“Excellent. Have you checked for any traps? Do you think it might be a setup?”
Liu shone his flashlight down the length of the pipe. “The wire’s hidden inside piping all the way down. Just by looking, it’s all but impossible to tell if they’ve been booby-trapped. I mean, these pipes could be filled with explosives. There’s no way for us to tell without taking the whole place apart.”
The crackly sound of an exhale came through the radio. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take. Push the button now, Liu.”
Back at the mine’s entrance, Xiong and Han saw a green light flicker on the handcuffs. The heavy cuffs remained locked.
Xiong examined the light that had just flashed, and saw three indicator lights built into the handcuffs. This seemed to confirm Liu’s earlier hypothesis. Two of the three wires running into the passages were decoys.
“Locate and activate the second switch immediately!”
Without even pausing, the two officers rushed into the next cavern to follow the second wire. Deep within, they found another signal emitter set inside the end of a scaffold pipe.
Liu did not request permission to press the button. Han and Xiong watched another green light flash upon the handcuffs, but the cuffs remained shut.
“Go find the third switch!”
Despite the firmness of his order, something was troubling Xiong. Logically, the third wire should be the correct one. His instincts said otherwise.
The two officers located the final signal emitter as soon as they could. Liu activated it.
A green indicator light flashed on the cuffs. They remained locked.
Xiong and Han looked at each other, confused.
“Are all the wires duds?” Han asked. “What’s Eumenides trying to achieve with this ruse?”
Liu’s voice crackled through the radio. “We’ve been looking at this the wrong way. I don’t think they’re dummy wires.”
“I have a feeling I’m not going to like what comes next,” Xiong said, gritting his teeth.
“You said that a green light flashed every time I pushed each button. I think this means that each switch works. But if there are three wires, perhaps the handcuffs will only open once we turn on each of the switches at once and activate all three lights together.”
“Of course!” Han said.
“Three switches, Captain. And four of us.”
“Now I understand why Eumenides was so specific about how many people we could send.”
“What do you mean?” Xiong asked.
“He wants to even the odds. Four of us came here, but only one of us will be able to defend Peng. If he’s going to make his move, that would be the time.”
Xiong’s eyes widened. “Liu and Yin have to come back. Eumenides’s goal here is too obvious. We have to regroup and request backup.”
Liu’s anxious voice came through the radio. “We found a slip of paper next to the signal emitter. It’s signed by Eumenides.”
“Well, read it!” Xiong shouted.
“ ‘I’ve placed a bomb inside the cave. You have until 1:00 a.m.,’ ” he read quickly.
All four members of the team checked their watches. It was already 12:45 a.m.
“I’m not willing to risk the chance that he’s bluffing,” Han growled into the radio. “We have fifteen minutes, men.”
Even the most sophisticated knowledge of bomb disposal would mean nothing if they couldn’t find the bomb. It could be anywhere—buried within the layer of dirt and coal, hidden inside the cavern’s crevice-laced walls, concealed among the abandoned equipment scattered about the tunnels, or even inside any of the pipes. Fifteen hours wasn’t enough time. They only had minutes.
They needed to vacate the tunnel before one o’clock—but they needed to leave with Peng Guangfu.
The tunnel was silent for an instant. As Yin and Liu awaited their next orders, Han and Xiong thought hard. Seconds later, Xiong spoke into his radio.
“The captain’s going to join you in a minute. If we still can’t unlock the handcuffs in ten minutes…” He glanced over at Peng. “Someone’s going to have to lose their hand.”
Peng’s eyes widened in terror, and looked upon the sharp field knife hanging from Xiong’s waist.
Han hesitated. Was he willingly going to play the part Eumenides had written for him? He could not afford to wait any longer. He needed to make a decision now!
He nodded at the captain. “Xiong, you go. I’ll keep an eye on things here.”
But the SPU captain refused to shirk his responsibility. “No. I can’t lose sight of our objective. This is my duty.” No matter what plans the killer had in store for them, protecting Peng Guangfu was still the team’s most crucial task.
Han saw the grim determination in Xiong’s eyes and nodded.
“Be careful,” he said.
The two words, simple and terse, steeled Xiong’s resolve.
“As long as I’m here,” he said, “Eumenides won’t get anywhere near Peng.”
* * *
Han ran into the tunnel. He couldn’t allow himself to pause, not even for a second, but everything was a blur. Suddenly, a mass of dangling silhouettes sprung up arou
nd him. A cry of surprise slipped from his throat.
Liu had warned him about the bodies, but Han could never have prepared himself for this.
He stood in a nightmare. A ring of bodies hung from the ceiling in two rows, like a gruesome chandelier.
Suddenly, a dark form sprung out from the closest passage. Han raised his semiautomatic pistol and shouted, “Stop!”
Yin raised his hands. “Captain, it’s me!”
Han relaxed, and he lowered the gun. “What the hell are you doing, Yin?” he demanded.
“My flashlight broke.” Yin held up a cigarette lighter.
Han groaned inwardly. “Where is Liu?”
“Waiting inside that cavern.” Yin jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll take the one in the middle. You take the one on the left.”
“We’ll radio once in position,” Han said. “And be careful in there.”
“Understood!”
The two men split up. It didn’t take Han long; as soon as he got to the end of the wire he signaled that he was in position. Yin, moving without a flashlight, took longer. When all three of them were ready, it was 12:52 a.m.
Liu’s voice came through the radio. “If we all hit the switches at the same time, Peng’s cuffs should unlock. When I count to three, hold your button down for five seconds.”
On the count of three, the officers simultaneously pressed their respective buttons.
Han thumbed the radio. “Xiong, how does everything look on your end?”
No response came.
“Xiong? Captain Xiong?”
“We’re running out of time,” Liu said, panicking. “Let’s move out!” He had worked closely with Xiong for years, and his gut told him that something was very wrong.
One by one, they ran back to the entrance. Liu got there first, with Han right behind. A sickening scent reached their nostrils. They brandished their flashlights in search of the smell’s origin.
Their beams lit up the bloody scene. The electronic handcuffs that had restrained Peng lay open, but Peng was far from free. The criminal lay crumpled below the scaffold, his right hand raised up as if in a bizarre greeting. Liu moved closer, and he saw the police-issue handcuffs chaining his wrist to the metal bars. Blood was pooling on the tunnel floor from a wound on his neck. His motionless body showed no signs of life.
They found Xiong a few meters away. The SPU captain’s condition was nearly as dire as Peng’s. Writhing on the tunnel floor, he clutched at his throat. Blood spurted through his fingers, pulsing with each desperate gasp for air.
“Captain!”
Liu dashed forward, his pained cry echoing through the mining tunnel. He dropped to both knees and pulled Xiong close in a tight embrace. The captain was still dimly conscious, and managed to open his eyes. A hint of comfort crept into his expression at the sight of his trusted colleague. He opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, but despite intense effort, he was unable to say a word.
Liu saw the hideous gash across Xiong’s neck. The captain’s throat had been cut, and the gushing blood was blocking air from reaching his vocal cords. His efforts to breathe only made more blood flow.
Han rushed over and knelt at Xiong’s side. He shut his eyes bitterly, as if in disbelief. “Cap…Captain Xiong?” he asked, his voice trembling.
The sound of Han’s voice gave Xiong a surge of energy. Using the last of his strength, he raised his head and seized Han’s arms with both hands. Veins bulged from his wrists.
Han held Xiong’s frantic gaze. An almost magnetic force connected their eyes. The captain leaned closer to Xiong until his ear was almost against the man’s lips. “What are you trying to tell me?” he asked.
The captain could only gurgle.
Yin finally emerged from inside the tunnel, and froze in his tracks as he witnessed the scene.
“What—what happened?” he stuttered in astonishment.
“What the hell are you standing there for?” Han yelled. “Eumenides is here! You and Liu get Xiong into the SUV, now!”
“But what about you?” Yin asked, still stunned.
“Forget about me! Eumenides is mine!”
Now Yin took a step forward. His eyes narrowed. “He already killed Xiong. What makes you think you stand a chance?”
Han stared back blankly. Without another word, Yin turned and dashed toward the SUV.
“Captain!” Liu called out. “I can’t carry Xiong up that incline by myself!”
Han grabbed the scaffolding with both hands and wrenched as hard as he could. The metal creaked, but it did not give. He shook the scaffolding once, then again. The handcuffs around Peng’s wrist jingled. With a heaving sigh, Han turned back to Liu.
“Right. Let’s get Xiong out of here.”
The two of them worked together to carry their gravely injured comrade out. The SUV’s blinding headlights shone from the top of the steep incline.
By the time Han and Liu reached the top, their backs were already soaked with sweat. They loaded Xiong into the rear of the vehicle and hopped in next to him. Han pulled the hatch shut behind them. Yin was at the wheel.
“Captain! What about Peng?”
Han blinked, as if stirred from a daydream. “Peng?” He shook his head. “No time. We need to leave now.”
“Captain?” Yin asked, looking at Han in disbelief.
Han stared dumbly at the wounded man at his feet. Xiong had already shut his eyes. The blood around his throat was no longer flowing.
Liu placed a trembling index finger between Xiong’s mouth and nose, but felt no air.
Without warning, he sprang up and howled like an enraged wolf. “That fucking son of a bitch!” Brandishing his sidearm, he reached for the handle to the SUV’s rear hatch.
“Liu Song! Don’t you dare move!” Han leaped. In a flash, he had pinned Liu to the floor of the rear compartment, alongside Xiong. He twisted his head to look at Yin.
“Drive! What are you waiting for? The bomb’s about to go off!”
Yin checked the dashboard clock. 12:59. He jumped into action. He shifted the vehicle into gear and floored the gas pedal. In seconds, the SUV was racing along the rugged mountain path leading back to the city.
“Let me out! I’m going to find him and kill him! I’ll kill him!” Liu’s eyes quivered with rage. As Yin leaned into the gas pedal, Han’s grip on the SPU officer remained strong. The SUV bumped along the path, and Liu stopped struggling. Eventually, his outbursts turned to sobs.
Han fell back onto the floor of the rear compartment. The body of Captain Xiong lay motionless beside him. Han seized his own hair and let out an anguished cry.
A fierce explosion erupted from the mouth of the tunnel. The shockwave jolted the vehicle. Far behind them, a fiery tremor shook loose the rocks above the tunnel entrance, and a stream of boulders fell to block the opening. The body of Peng Guangfu, as well as all evidence from the scene inside the cave, vanished beneath tons of rock and earth.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DOUBTS UPON DOUBTS
OCTOBER 24, 9:00 P.M.
FOUR HOURS EARLIER…
Mu Jianyun walked along a bustling metropolitan street. Han, Yin, Xiong, and Liu Song were still at headquarters, waiting for the receiver to activate. While they sat twiddling their thumbs, she was going to find answers.
She turned a corner and entered a narrow alleyway. It was as though she had entered another world.
The buildings on both sides of the alley seemed to slant inward, looming over her as she walked. A bitter autumn wind swept through the Cockroach Nest, bringing with it an icy chill. Mu stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coat and used her elbows to press her clothes close against her body.
This is not a good place to be, she thought.
Mu arrived in front of the small apartment. The world had forgotten Huang Sha
oping, and she imagined his life here as something from a nightmare. Probably worse than any nightmares she’d ever have.
She knocked, and the door opened. Huang stood in front of her. The poor lighting provided by the room’s dusty bulb cloaked half his face in shadow.
“Hello,” Mu said, not wishing for the man to sense her unease.
“You came.”
“Yes, and I came alone,” she said, forcing a smile.
Huang’s shattered lips curled upward in an attempt to match her expression, yet he conveyed no sense of joy. “Have a seat,” he said, scratching at the scars on his neck.
Mu moved an old wooden stool beside the filthy bed, and Huang used his walking stick to hobble over. She stepped forward in order to help him to the bed, but Huang seemed to sense her intention and made his refusal clear with a shake of his head.
Mu stiffened at this rebuff. The man had dignity after all.
The two sat. “Is there anything you’d like to tell the police?” Mu asked, with deliberate emphasis on the last word of her question. Her hand brushed something soft, and she recoiled. It was a stack of old utility bills.
“No. If I wanted to tell the police, I would have already.” Huang shook his head. “I will only talk to you.”
“I teach at the academy, but I am a police officer. And I’ve been assigned to the 4/18 Task Force.”
Huang’s cheek twitched. “That’s why you have to promise me something before I tell you more.”
“What do I have to promise?”
“That you won’t share what I’m about to tell you with anyone else on the force. I’m asking you to do this by yourself.”
“And why is that?”
“I’ve had to keep silent all these years.” Huang was as sincere as Mu had ever seen. “And what I know would put your life in danger. I can’t trust the police.”
“Are you saying that someone inside the police is somehow involved in this case?” Mu leaned closer.