Halliday opened the passenger door and yanked Lili out. On the edge of hysteria, she tried to pull away, twisting her body from one side to the other. “Dr. Quan, listen to me. I’m Charlie Halliday, CIA. I’m here to rescue you.”
Tears streamed down her face as Halliday untied her hands and removed the gag. “You all right?”
Lili struggled for composure. She nodded. “I’ll be fine.” Between ebbing sobs she massaged the pain in her wrists. She looked at Camille draped over the steering wheel and Ng lying on the driveway a few feet from the car. “Did you have to kill them?” It seemed so senseless. Like Tong’s killing. David Kim had said Tong was expendable. On the way to the villa, Ng had boasted about terminating Kim. Expendable, terminate — words meant to justify what? The chance to prolong life? The irony was almost laughable.
“I had no choice. They would have killed you.”
She supposed he had saved her life. But why? Questions began piling up like waves on a beach. Why was he here? What did he want? How did he know where to find her? How long had anyone known about her plight in China? Answers no easier to catch than the surf. “What’s going on, Mr. Halliday?”
He took her arm and led her toward his Mercedes parked at the edge of the hillside. “I suggest you get in the car. If the houseboy heard the shots, he’ll call the police. They’ll be here any minute.”
“So?”
“I don’t have time to deal with them now. Besides, this is hardly a local police matter. What I do need is to get you to a safe place for debriefing.” He opened the passenger door.
Debriefing? She stared at him, bewilderment and fear converging in her look. “How do I know I can trust you?” She’d already made the mistake of trusting three men who’d betrayed her.
“Typical American. Doesn’t trust anyone,” Halliday laughed easily. “Listen, I’m an American too. And I’m on your side.”
“You say you’re with the CIA. What does the CIA want with me?”
“I don’t have time to answer your questions now.” His voice took on a hardened edge. “Let’s get going.”
She bent to get in, stopped, and straightened. A swirling mist of doubt.
“Get in the car,” he said harshly.
She backed away. Her mind leapt back and forth, mental circuits of paranoia arcing through exhaustion and terror. “I’d rather wait for the police.”
He’d been standing with his hands outstretched as he attempted to convince her. Now his right hand slipped into his jacket pocket.
“No!” Lili screamed. She moved further toward the edge of the road, but her foot slipped on a loose stone. She lost her balance and fell backward, hitting the ground, then rolling and twisting until she finally banged up against a tree midway down the hill. She pressed herself flat, hugging the earth, struggling to catch her breath, listening for the sounds of gunfire. But all she could hear was the rush of breath in her own throat and a hot breeze whispering through the trees. At seven, the sun had already set. The moon, dimly lit though the clouds, outlined everything in eerie shadows.
“Dr. Quan, come back.” The crunch of footsteps, then the glare of a flashlight. For a second her heart stopped. But the beam wasn’t pointed toward her. It probed the upper edges of the hill, silhouetting trees and bushes like an old-time sepia photograph.
Muffled curses filled the air as the arc swept closer. “Damn bitch!”
Lili lay pressed down. Dear God, please don’t let him see me.
“I know you’re there. No point in hiding. I’lI find you.”
The light edged so close she was just outside its circular beam.
A siren wailed through the darkness and at once the light died.
Lili held her breath.
The scuffle of feet, a car door slamming, the engine starting, and stones scattering as the Mercedes pulled away.
The siren wailed above her. The police, Lili speculated. Alerted by Ng’s houseboy. Would they help? Without a passport and papers, she’d be as likely a murder suspect as anyone. At the very least, she’d be delayed. There wasn’t time. Dottie would be in Hong Kong the day after tomorrow. No, she thought. From now on, she’d trust no one but herself.
She waited five minutes in the darkness before sensing she was safe; five minutes more before she pushed herself up to a crouch and began to run.
Run for her life.
To Halliday, Lili’s escape was a major setback, but as long as he knew her ultimate destination, he’d catch up with her. Driving back to the Outer Harbor on the Avenida da Amizade, he returned the rental car, then hopped onto the hydrofoil back to Hong Kong.
Numb and confused, Lili ran, her breathing ragged.
She could see nothing clearly, but sensed what was there. The events of the last thirty-six hours swirled round and round in her head, transforming everything into something sinister and menacing. In the shadowy light, she conjured up ghosts. Her overworked imagination convinced her that anything was possible. Drenched with perspiration, she was exhausted by the exertion of running and scrambling several miles through scrub and backyards, down the twisting roads from Ng’s house near Guia Hill.
She would have liked to find a spot, hidden beneath a tree or bush, where she could curl up for a few hours and rest, but she dared not close her eyes. Halliday couldn’t have given up so easily. She had to maintain her vigilance.
At Avenido do Conselheiro she finally stopped to catch her breath, wondering what to do next, where to go. Then she remembered the name and address Zheng Tu had given her. If she could find it, perhaps she’d be safe.
Seventy miles south of Guangchou
Mei Ling peered at Macao’s brightly lit shoreline three miles away. “I’m afraid this is as far as we can take you,” she whispered. “You must find your way on your own now. Good luck.”
Chi-Wen swung his legs over the side of the sampan and lowered himself into the water. He was barefoot, his shoes hung around his belt. “Thanks for all your help.” From Guangchou Mei-Ling had commandeered a series of cars and trucks to transport him seventy miles down the coast to Nantou on the east side of the Pearl River delta. Then she’d found a fisherman to take him as close to Macao as he dared.
“Chi-Wen Zhou?” Mei-Ling whispered.
“Yes?” Treading water, legs scissoring to stay afloat.
“When you’ve found your friend, will you think about returning to China? The democracy movement needs you.”
In the few seconds Chi-Wen took to consider an answer, the fisherman had already brought the little sampan about, heading it back toward the mainland.
Something brushed by his foot. A shark? He must be very still. Mei Ling had said they were extremely sensitive to motion. Heart in his throat, he waited, imagining the predaceous fish swimming below him, readying to open its crescent-shaped mouth and devour him. But whatever he felt passed by and was gone. The distant sound of waves slapping against the retreating hull underscored his aloneness.
You must find your way on your own now.
His fate was in his own hands, he thought, reminded of Lili and Santiago of The Old Man and the Sea. Denying the ineluctability of fate, winning against all odds, taking risks. Soldiers, bullfighters, fishermen, Chinese students. Staring up at the winking stars, he resolved to be one of those who meet the pain and difficulty of their existence with stoic courage.
Good luck.
He’d need that too he thought, shivering in the frigid water. He began a slow sidestroke, swimming across the current, toward the shore.
Macao
She found the address with surprising ease.
It was a small tailor shop on cobblestoned Rua do Campo, its sign and window grimy with years of dust. She knocked and waited a long time until at last a shape emerged from behind the net curtain that covered the door. The lock turned and the door slowly swung open. The owner was a pockmarked Chinese Lili guessed to be close to seventy. Although round-shouldered and pale from years of sitting in the half-light at his sewing machine,
the eyes that scrutinized her were sharp and the hands he held to his chest did not shake.
“Shir?”
“I’m an American. I’ve lost my passport and I need a new one.”
“Then go to the American Embassy. They will help.” His English was remarkably good. An expatriate from the mainland, Shen Ming had once dreamed of traveling to America. Forty years later, he’d made peace with his lot in life, though from time to time he helped others get there. As he started to close the door, Lili placed her hand on it, a look of urgency on her face.
“I don’t have time. Please,” she said. “You must help me. I’m a friend of Zheng Tu, one of the student leaders. He gave me your name and address. He said you could get me papers and a passport.”
The man’s eyebrows lifted as he looked more closely at Lili.
“Tu sent you? Why didn’t you say so? He is my sister’s grandson. If he thinks it’s important, it must be so.” Now he noticed her shabby appearance. “Is your life in danger?”
Lili sighed. “Yes.”
“In that case, come in.”
Lili stepped into the shop. Shen ushered her through a door at the back, into a small room that served as his kitchen, dining room, living room, and bedroom. She thought of Fan and, for a moment, Chi-Wen.
The tailor misinterpreted the anguished look on her face. “I’m afraid it isn’t much. But it serves. My wife died four years ago. We had no children. I don’t need much.” He motioned Lili toward a chair and sat opposite her. “When do you need these papers?”
“As soon as possible.”
Shen pointed to a shortwave radio on the table. “Tell me, I hear on Voice of America that the student uprising is sweeping China. Is it true?”
Lili nodded. “Three weeks ago, it was just students. Now ordinary people are starting to listen. On May fourth, I saw thousands near Tiananmen Square. And Tu said there would be marches from Guangchou to Xi’an to Shanghai as well.”
The old man was silent for a moment, filled with memories of his own efforts as a boy to change China. “Maybe this time they will succeed,” he said finally. He looked at Lili and smiled. “It’s late. Let’s begin.”
Hong Kong
As Lili sat with Shen in Macao, a news item was being typeset for the Hong Kong Daily’s early morning edition:
Disfigured Body Found in Car Park
Police are trying to establish the identity of a man in his thirties whose faceless body was discovered in a container car park in KW last night.
Assistant District Crime Commander Chief Inspector Jim Thomas, said, “We are unable to establish how the man was killed until a postmortem examination is carried out.”
Part of the man’s face is missing, probably cut away with a sharp instrument, but there were no signs of any other wounds on his body.
No identifying documents or money were found on the body, except for a chip from a gambling casino.
“We are trying to establish whether the man was a patron or an employee of one of the casinos in Macao,” said Chief Inspector Thomas.
Macao
5 a.m.
Three hours after first jumping into the icy, oily-tasting water of the Pearl River, Chi-Wen could feel the undertow pull his bare feet into the sand. Arms wrenching in their sockets, he struggled against the strong current for the few remaining yards until he finally reached the beach. Exhaling his relief. He’d made it!
Exhausted, he lay pressed flat against the crushed seashells. Just ahead, the lights of Macao shimmered, a welcoming crown of iridescent jewels. Those of Nantou in the distance were dimmer, more diffused. Would he return to China? he wondered. First he had to find Lili. Perhaps then he’d know.
He remained where he was for almost half an hour, shivering, but afraid to move lest someone see him. The stretch of coast where he landed seemed deserted, but Mei Ling had warned of patrols looking out for potential illegals from the mainland. When he’d become accustomed to the sounds and shadows, he stood and began walking up the beach.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Saturday
May 6
Near Hong Kong
Lili could barely breathe.
She was in the trunk of a car. After preparing her passport and papers, Shen had persuaded a friend to take her by ferry to Hong Kong. He explained that too many people watched the hydrofoil and jet foil docks. She would hide in the trunk for the two-and-a-half-hour trip. Once they landed, she could walk off the ferry to freedom.
Alone in her sweltering cocoon, she fought images causing her to break out in a cold sweat.
Running, hiding, gunshots, death.
Her head ached as she thought of those who’d wanted to kill her for her grandfather’s discovery. Mad generals and government officials Tong, Lin, Han, and Seng, driven by memories of a China that could no longer exist in the twentieth century. Such men would make a pact with the devil as long as they retained their hold on the country; old men stealing life from the young for power. Corrupt businessmen like Lee Tong, David Kim, and Paulo Ng — each willing to exchange their souls for money. And now she was running from the CIA — assuming Halliday had even been telling the truth about himself. She didn’t know who to trust.
What about Chi-Wen? A sickening hollowness spread through her as she conjured up his face in her dark tomb. His betrayal hurt her most, the one she could least reconcile. So certain his feelings for her had been real. How had she been so blind?
Or was it simpler than that? Perhaps he was a man who would always believe in the immutability of fate. Like Hamlet, who claimed “there’s a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will —” Chi-Wen must have felt his survival required his betrayal. She shuddered despite the heat. It wasn’t the answer she desired. And it didn’t soften her pain — knowing she’d probably expected too much from him — a man born into another world, one she could never truly understand or be a part of.
A knock on the trunk and a whispered message, “Come on. We dock in five minutes.” Shen’s friend helped her out.
“Thank you.”
As she drifted into the crowd readying at the ferry’s bow for disembarkation, she counted herself fortunate. Chi-Wen may have stolen her heart, but he hadn’t gotten the secret. No one had. Tonight she would retrieve her grandfather’s notes from Dottie Diehl’s copybook.
That is, if Shen’s papers passed muster at customs.
Beijing, China
Several hundred students demonstrated on the campus of Beijing University, calling for continued class boycotts until the government met their demands for a substantive dialogue. They were prepared to launch a countrywide hunger strike during the Gorbachev visit on May 15. Tragically, these students underestimated the determination and convictions of old revolutionaries who would use any means they thought necessary, including a bloody military crackdown to safeguard their position.
Hong Kong
Lili need not have worried. Shen’s papers were accepted by the border guards without demur. The tailor had correctly guessed they would never question an American passport — especially one carried by a beautiful girl in tight jeans and T-shirt. The few mainlanders who tried coming through Macao generally forged Hong Kong passports, but lacked Lili’s independent manner or command of English to pass the scam off successfully.
Still it wasn’t until the cab let her off in front of the Peninsula Hotel that she really felt safe.
Macao
It was almost ten by the time Chi-Wen found the tailor’s shop.
“You say you and this girl are good friends?” Shen eyed the wiry young man dressed in oversized trousers and filthy white shirt still damp from his swim. How could he be sure he wasn’t a spy?
“Please, you must tell me if she’s been here.” Chi-Wen explained how he and Lili had been separated in Beijing, that she had managed to escape before he could find her, and that his only hope was she might have come to Shen’s shop for a passport. He looked away. “Yi yan ji chu si ma nan zhui. A pro
mise cannot be taken back once it is made.”
“And what promise was that?”
“I promised her grandfather I would make sure she reached Hong Kong safely.”
“Is that the only reason you want to help her?”
Chi-Wen shook his head. Softly. “No, I love her.”
“The moment of finding is always a surprise, like meeting an old friend never before known.”
Chi-Wen recognized the old Taoist saying.
“It is how I felt when I met my dear wife.” Shen pointed to her framed picture on his table. “Dead more than four years and I still miss her terribly.” He smiled at Chi-Wen. “Your Dr. Quan left for Hong Kong a few hours ago.”
At least she was safe.
“Did she mention me?”
“I’m afraid not. I take it you want papers?”
“Just a visa.” He’d have to risk using the Philippine passport for now. If he decided to leave China for good, he’d return for appropriate documents later.
The tailor nodded. “I’ll throw in some clean clothes too.”
Hong Kong
Lili asked the cabbie to drop her at the Peninsula Hotel. She didn’t know why, since no one would be meeting her now. Perhaps it was because this was where her China trip had begun. As she entered the elegant lobby, she found its familiarity somehow calming. She walked over to one of the cushioned settees and sat down. Exhausted, she closed her eyes, momentarily savoring her freedom before considering what to do next.
“Lili!”
Startled, Lili opened her eyes. “Dylan? My God, I can’t believe you’re here!”
He pulled her into his arms for a hug. Like a dam bursting, tears overflowed. She began shaking, breathing in swallows and gasps. “You can’t believe what I’ve been through!”
“Whoa!” His blue eyes filled with concern. “I want to hear all about it, but the doctor’s ordering a stiff drink first.”
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