by E Y Mak
“Come on,” Benita urged, grabbing his arm.
Much nearer to the ground now, Russell could see the outstretched awnings of the market down on Portland Street. Russell and Benita paced along the scaffolding parallel to the building, their pursuers maybe ten seconds behind. Up ahead, a bamboo ladder hung off the edge of the scaffolding. They could climb down to the street and disappear into the crowds.
Russell put his head down and raced harder. They were about fifty feet away from the ladder. Then thirty feet, then twenty.
When they were ten feet from the ladder, a drone floated slowly up from beneath the platform and hovered directly in front of them.
Russell automatically reached out with his good hand to stop Benita from running at full gallop directly into the drone. They were so close to the drone, he could have made out its serial number, had he cared. But the drone had not detected them yet. Instead of engaging them, it continued on a path upward, towards the top of the building. It appeared to be scanning the next building.
The thugs were almost within arm’s reach now.
No time for the ladder.
Russell noticed an unusually thick street sign jutting out into the middle of the street, one floor below them. It formed the perfect platform to jump onto a large and heavy awning across the street.
Benita had already seen the sign too, and with one graceful movement, swung to the platform below. Russell swung less gracefully, just as the thugs caught up to him.
At the end of the scaffolding, Benita and Russell were now poised to tightrope-walk the street sign. They both stepped on and were about halfway across the street when Russell could see that their destination—the awning—below looked able to support the weight of either Russell or Benita, but not both.
He needed to buy some time.
He turned around to face their pursuers, who were now trying to shake and loosen the fixture that Russell and Benita were standing on, but to no avail. Neither seemed willing to step onto the sign suspended thirty feet above the ground.
He glanced back and saw that Benita had already landed on the awning. Her body had left a slight impression on the tent, but she had slid down and made it onto the ground.
Satisfied, Russell turned back to the thugs. One had finally taken a step forward and was approaching Russell hesitantly. Unperturbed, Russell turned around and took a running leap.
He felt time slow down just a bit as the adrenaline in his body spiked.
He landed on the awning feet first. It held for a second before buckling, dropping him a further eight feet where his left shoulder impacted a jewelry display stand.
He groaned with pain before opening his eyes and looking up. Benita stood over him with a concerned look and was mouthing something. “You okay?”
“Seems like my shoulder is taking a beating today,” he said, wincing. Looking past her, he could see that both thugs were still on the sign, watching but not jumping. In the distance, he saw the drone stalking the thugs from behind, lurking menacingly in the darkness.
An angry jeweler yelled at them as Benita helped Russell get to his feet.
Change that channel.
After he stood up and shook himself off, Russell woozily spoke. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Russell and Benita hurried along, blending into the massive crowds of late-night shoppers in the streets of Mong Kok. They needed to find a way to get to Sai Kung without detection. For now, they used the flashing neon lights, masses of crowds, and retail chaos to hide in plain sight. But it would only last so long before their luck would run out.
Sai Kung, a former fishing village, was now a seafood destination. Tourists and locals alike enjoyed the al fresco dining on the waterfront street, picking freshly caught live cuttlefish before sitting down as their meal cooked to watch the sampans and junks float by. But Russell wasn’t there for a meal. He was there to seek refuge with an old high school friend, Patrick.
To get that far east would be tricky, however. They had to avoid the subway and the CCTVs located at and around each station. Hong Kong’s subway security integrated with the Hong Kong police and the Observer’s surveillance network. Extensive facial recognition software would alert the authorities the minute Russell and Benita set foot in any station. A taxi was possible, but they risked being at the mercy of the driver if the authorities had put out a public broadcast for their capture. And this didn’t include a drone, which could drop down from the sky at any time. Walking out in the open was also dangerous, with Mauritius and now the Western Boys gang looking for them.
But Russell knew a shortcut.
In 2006, the city had built a massive storage tank underneath the Tai Hang sporting grounds to solve a flooding issue in Mong Kok. In a heavy rainstorm, excess stormwater was diverted into the tank and held until the rainfall abated. This gave time for the rest of the drainage system to process the flow of rainwater from other areas. Eventually, all of the floodwater in the storage tank released into the central drainage system and then drained into the sea. Russell was recreating a route that he had taken on a bounty assignment three years ago where he had tailed a particularly infamous child molester from the sporting field to Victoria Harbour.
“We need to get to the Tai Hang sporting ground. It’s nearby,” Russell said.
They each donned the fisherman caps he had stashed in his briefcase, pulling them down low to hide their faces. They kept their heads down and made their way to the sporting field within seven minutes. Mingling in the crowd, they feigned watching the evening football games before they found the storage tank access point.
“Is it safe to go in there?” Benita asked.
“As long as it’s not raining, the tank isn’t going to fill, and the water won’t be transferred to the main drainage system,” he said as he glanced at the dark sky. “We should be safe.”
The access point was in a relatively small cement building covered in moss, about fifteen feet high and thirty feet long. Its steel door was locked, but Russell motioned for them to climb onto a ledge above the door. After boosting Benita onto the ledge, she climbed an adjoining window and Russell watched from below as she pulled herself onto the roof. He followed slowly, avoiding the use of his left shoulder as best he could.
The roof was flat except for six separated plexiglass bubble skylights bulging three feet high. It was not well lit, but Russell felt around in the darkness. The roof was made of some kind of a rubber polymer material. It crunched beneath his feet as he walked to the skylight farthest from where they had climbed up. Benita followed.
“Locked?” Benita asked.
Russell nodded, pointing to the padlock on the skylight. He knelt down next to it and pulled at the shank of the lock. It didn’t give.
“Let me,” Benita said. Kneeling, she fished around in her hair and pulled out two bobby pins. She flattened the first bobby pin to make a small hook, then bent the second pin in half to form a makeshift tension wrench. She then expertly picked the padlock and opened the skylight.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“Show off,” he said with a smirk.
Opening the skylight revealed a metal ladder going straight down two floors. Russell led the way and slid down gingerly. They were in a storage room, cold from the concrete walls and floors. Three doors surrounded the place. The word “Exit” was illuminated above one of the doors. The other two doors were unmarked. Russell recalled his pursuit of three years prior and walked immediately towards the unmarked door to his left. It led to a second room with a massive metal spiral staircase.
“This leads down to the main holding tank,” he said.
They descended. It was about fifty revolutions before they found themselves at the base of the tank. The water level had risen enough to cover the last three steps. He saw Benita breathe in and pinch her nose slightly as she stepped into the icy water.
The darkness was broken only dimly by spotty electric lamps strung at inte
rvals between the stairs and a distant wall. In some places, the tank was simply pitch black. The darkness was magnified by the eerie silence. The only sounds were that of the occasional drip and the bubbling sound of water flowing in the distance.
Benita took out her phone and enabled the flashlight app. The light shone brightly, illuminating the area immediately around them, but the vastness of the tank swallowed up most of the strength of the light.
“It looks like a flooded underground parking lot,” Benita commented, breaking the silence.
“I thought the same the last time I was here.” He pointed straight ahead. “The access point is directly in front of the last step.”
They trudged along in the waist deep water. The water was ice cold and smelled dank. They waved blindly ahead with their arms and legs to see if they were about to walk into a wall.
“About twenty more yards,” he said.
“You sure?” she asked.
“No,” he said.
After about fifty yards, they hit the far wall of the holding tank. Russell used his hands to feel along the cold cement wall in a circular motion, first up and down then side to side. He continued this for another minute, covering about fifteen yards on either side of where they had initially hit the wall.
“Weird,” he said.
“What?”
“I can’t find the transfer tunnel.”
“Are you sure it was straight ahead?” Benita asked.
“Yes, I remember while going down the stairs, I saw him swimming straight ahead from the bottom of the steps towards the entrance.”
Swimming. He thought.
“That’s it. The drainage was at a higher level the last time I was here. It’s above us.” he exclaimed.
It would be futile trying to physically locate the tunnel with his hands in the dark. Instead, he closed his eyes, blocking out the last remaining remnants of light from his mind. He listened for each sound.
He heard water drops.
It hadn’t rained in a while, so the drops must be the remnants of whatever was flowing from ground level. It would lead back immediately to where he came from. Instead, they needed to get to the Bay, away from the core of the Kowloon Peninsula.
He heard the sound of running water.
That sound was formed from the flowing of sewage and water from the houses and restaurants of Hong Kong Island. It was the sound he needed to follow. He followed the sound of the running water. He stepped ten paces to his left along the cement wall. The sound grew slightly quieter. He stopped and turned around and walked back to his right.
The sound of running water grew slightly louder. He continued towards the source. After about twenty paces in the dark, the sound started to grow quiet again. He stepped five paces back.
He could hear the running water directly in front of him.
“Benita!” he shouted.
“Right here,” came her voice right beside him.
“Here, I’ll boost you up. See if you can reach the tunnel entrance.”
Russell knelt down and interlocked his fingers into a step. Benita stepped onto his hands. His left shoulder burned as he tried to lift her up.
“Aaaghh,” he groaned as he dropped her into the water. He tumbled backward as well.
Benita got up first. “You okay?”
“Just the shoulder. Let’s try this again. I won’t use my arms this time.”
They repeated the process. This time, however, Russell used his knees and quads to boost her up without moving his shoulder.
“I got it!” she said excitedly. “I see a light at the end of this tunnel. Here, grab my arm.”
Russell groped in the darkness with his left hand for a couple of seconds before finding the soft flesh of the palm of her hand. He jumped up and used his right arm to pull himself up, ignoring the pain radiating from his left shoulder. After taking a few recovery breaths, he looked forward and saw a sliver of light reflecting off the metallic wall up ahead.
“Great. That tunnel is about a mile long and leads directly to Victoria Harbour. Let’s go.”
They made it to the transfer tunnel relatively quickly and then turned right towards the spot of morning sun in the distance. They continued along the transfer tunnel, the spot of light but a grain of rice in the distance. With the long, but likely uneventful, walk in front of them, he felt his adrenaline levels drop.
“So what happened? Why did you leave the closet in Mong Kok? Some Phineas guys outside?” Russell asked.
“Yeah. So I went deeper into the building. Then while I was hiding out on the third floor, I heard some girl screaming and saw three guys pulling this struggling teenage girl up the stairs. I followed them to see where they were going. Then one of the guys surprised me from behind, so I told them that I was one of the new working girls.”
“He bought it?” he asked.
“Yeah, and left me in the room that you found me in. Locked me in right away too. Apparently, they were expecting a new mixed race girl today,” she said.
The light was now about the size of a quarter in the distance.
“I guess this wasn’t what you had in mind for a first day hanging out together, eh?” he asked, shifting the briefcase from his left to right hand.
Benita chuckled. “All in a day’s work at Phineas, I’m sure. I’ve had some days like this, but I usually managed to stay on the right side of the law.” She looked at Russell. “So who’s this guy we’re going to meet?”
“His name’s Patrick Tse. He’s one of those guys with too much money. Mindlessly spends it on cars, girls, and drugs.”
“Sounds like a guy that’s not going to just turn us in,” she said approvingly. “How do you think he’s going to be able to help us?”
“He’ll provide a safe harbor for us while the heat is on. He’s got food, a big place, and contacts in the underground. More importantly, he owes me a favor from the last time I was here, and I think it’s time to cash in.”
The spot of light was growing and was now about the size of a watermelon in front of them. He could see now that it was the bright skyscraper lights of Hong Kong island and just a bit of the moon. Russell massaged his sore shoulder and stared blankly into the distance as they walked towards the light in silence.
He abruptly stopped.
“What?” Benita asked as she put a hand on his shoulder.
“We’ve been on the run so long today, I haven’t had time to stop and think about that last voicemail. Daniel is dead, and he was supposed to look out for one of my new recruits, Candice. She’s more than capable, but I asked them to look further into our only suspect on Tim’s murderer. This Phantom. Now, she’s missing. This is my fault,” said Russell.
“No, it’s not. If you were still in New York, you’d be dead or missing and whoever came over here instead would be the one hunted by Phineas.”
Russell disagreed. He would have stopped the Phantom. But he kept that to himself.
Ten minutes later, they had reached the edge of the tunnel. It opened into a small tributary, and he could see that it was surrounded by rocks and metal shanties. Farther out in the distance, he saw a row of small boats.
He looked at Benita and said, “There’s our ticket to Sai Kung.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
After hailing one of the locals using Benita’s cell phone flashlight and exchanging HK$2000 for a change of clothes, a ride on his aging fishing boat and the captain’s silence, they were en route to Sai Kung village. Their captain, an elderly man who simply wanted to be referred to as “Fai,” indicated that they would be in Sai Kung by 2:00 a.m.
Hiding underneath the thick bill of the captain’s baseball cap, Russell looked out into the view of Victoria Harbour and soaked in the musky salt-water smell. The Observer was high in the sky and was situated almost directly above them. He motioned to Benita as he popped open his briefcase and pulled out the Project Milverton file prepared by Elva. They spent the next five minutes thumbing through the report, using th
e shaking light in the sleeping quarters of the fishing boat.
“Thoughts?” Benita asked.
“There’s not too much to it aside from the fact that we know that Mauritius is building something out there in Cameroon. Something he’s calling the Repository,” said Russell.
“What do you think he’s doing there?” Benita asked.
“From what I can gather, that area is supposed to be resource rich. He could be trying to set up an illegal mine there. Sneaking it past, or bribing, the Cameroon mining authorities so he doesn’t have to pay any royalties. It would make sense to silence Tim and deflect attention away from his activities. Keep what Mauritius is doing off the radar and get a cleaner cut of the profits.”
Russell thought about it a bit before continuing.
“It could be, but it doesn’t make sense,” he said. “Mauritius is wealthy and business savvy enough that he wouldn’t risk his reputation over something so simple and easy to catch. The royalties would just be a cost of doing business. Plus, pulling rocks out of the ground isn’t so straightforward. It takes years, even decades, of exploration before he would have enough confidence to start digging a mine. And resource mining isn’t his area of expertise.”
Russell paused again.
“I don’t think it’s something that he’s trying to pull out of the ground itself. It’s not about the geography or geology around the repository. He wants to bring something in for storage. Something big.”
“Arms? Nuclear weapons? He had a history of that before, right?”
“Could be. I don’t know. But Tim’s introduction into Ndian was relatively recent. He struck it big. Then there was a lot of attention in the area. And Mauritius wanted it to go away. There’s our motive.”