Profiler (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 1)

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Profiler (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 1) Page 44

by Lei Mi


  It was an iron cage. And someone was sprawled inside. He tried to compose himself. Shakily he yelled, "Hello?"

  In the vastness of the water dungeon, the sound was infinitely amplified. Bouncing off the walls, it echoed back at him with terrifying clarity. But the person in the cage didn't move at all.

  Who was he?

  And was he still alive? These questions ran through Fang Mu's mind as he used his lighter to illuminate his surroundings. The flame didn't reveal any stairs leading into the pool. After hesitating for a moment, he squatted down and shined the bottom of the pool. He gritted his teeth and leapt inside. He landed with an awkward thud.

  The pool was deeper than he had imagined and his legs shook with pain. He decided it best not to walk immediately over, so he squatted down and listened for any sounds of movement, at the same time quickly illuminating his surroundings with the lighter. Once he was certain that the place was empty, he slowly stood up, gripped his dagger, and carefully advanced on the cage. He had been right. Someone was lying inside.

  In the faint light of the lighter flame, he couldn't be certain whether it was a man or a woman. Straining to see the person more clearly, he cautiously approached.

  Was it Tai Wei? It didn't seem like it. This person was a little shorter, a little heavier.

  Who was it? As he drew closer to the cage, the person's outline became more defined.

  It was a man, curled on his side, with his back to Fang Mu. Something about his gray sweater looked very familiar…

  The flickering flame shone on the man's gray hair.

  Fang Mu's eyes went wide as he hoped against hope.

  Throwing caution to the wind, he ran to the other side of the cage and squatted down. He held the lighter flame up to the man's face.

  It was Professor Qiao.

  For a moment, Fang Mu didn't know whether he was startled or relieved, disheartened or enraged. Kneeling down, he shook the cage as hard as he could. "Professor Qiao!" he yelled. "Professor Qiao!"

  His hair disheveled and face so thin he no longer looked like himself, Professor Qiao rocked back and forth in time with Fang Mu's movements. His tightly shut eyes never opened.

  Was he dead?

  No, please no!

  Fang Mu reached inside the cage and placed his fingers beneath Professor Qiao's nose. Fortunately, he was still breathing, if faintly.

  Pocketing his knife, Fang Mu grabbed onto the cage with one hand, while using the other to press his thumb against Professor Qiao's philtrum, digging in as hard as he could, hoping to apply the proper pressure. (Translator’s note: The philtrum is the indented spot between a person's mouth and nose. In traditional Chinese medicine, it is considered a very important acupressure point.)

  "Wake up, Professor Qiao, wake up…"

  After what seemed to Fang Mu to be an agonizingly long time, Professor Qiao's hand moved slightly and a faint sound emerged from his lips.

  Overjoyed, Fang Mu hurried to support Professor Qiao's head and then struggled to raise him to a sitting position.

  Coughing, Professor Qiao leaned weakly against the bars of the cage.

  After the coughing fit ended, he gasped for breath. "Water…water…" he mumbled, once more closing his eyes.

  Water? Where can I find water around here? Agitated, Fang Mu looked around. In the corner of the cage he spied a bottle of water. He hurriedly reached in and grabbed it. He sighed with relief; there was still about half left. After twisting off the cap, he supported Professor Qiao's upper body with one arm while he used the other hand to raise the bottle to Professor Qiao's lips.

  Once he had gulped down several mouthfuls of water, Professor Qiao's breathing relaxed slightly, and his eyes slowly opened.

  Professor Qiao's eyes, which had once been bright with keen intelligence, were now dazed and glassy. He slowly turned them to look at Fang Mu. After staring at him dully for several seconds, he finally recognized him.

  "It's you?"

  "It's me, Professor Qiao, it's Fang Mu." He quickly asked, "How did you end up here, sir?"

  Professor Qiao shook his head, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

  "Aye, don't ask." He sighed. "I'm old...an old fool. I thought I could convince him to turn himself in. I thought he was still the same obedient, diligent student from all those years ago."

  "You mean Sun Pu, right?"

  "Oh? So you know then?" Professor Qiao was momentarily stunned. Then he laughed faintly. "I really was right about you."

  "Save your energy, Professor Qiao. I'm going to get you out of here!" Helping him to lean against the bars, Fang Mu stood and looked the cage over more thoroughly.

  With Professor Qiao inside, the cage had to weigh well over 200 pounds. Moving it would be extremely difficult, not to mention getting it out of the pool and up onto the first floor. His only chance was to open the lock, get Professor Qiao out, and then decide on his next step.

  After locating the lock, Fang Mu weighed it in his hand. The thing was solid. Pulling out his knife, he inserted the point into the keyhole and fiddled with it lightly. It wasn't going to work. Not only would this not open the lock, it would likely break the knife as well.

  He raised his lighter and looked around. The place was empty; there was nothing around that could be used to get the lock open.

  After thinking for a moment, Fang Mu remembered the prison cells full of chairs and desks on the first floor. There had to be an iron bar or something along those lines inside one of them. Squatting back down in front of Professor Qiao, he said, "Wait one moment, sir. I'm going to go find something to get this cage open."

  But before the words had even left his mouth, he heard something rumble overhead.

  A beam of light shot down, illuminating Fang Mu's face.

  Dizzy from the light, Fang Mu quickly shielded his eyes with his hand and looked up.

  There was a square opening in the ceiling overhead. Through it shone a flashlight beam.

  Someone else was in the bunker.

  Even though his vision was blurry from the light, Fang Mu could still vaguely make out that it was a man.

  "Who are you?"

  Fang Mu's heart began to beat fast. Was it the police?

  The man didn't answer, just chuckled darkly.

  In an instant, an ice-cold feeling gripped Fang Mu's heart. He knew exactly who it was.

  Before he could think anything further, something else appeared in the man's hand and then a terrible-smelling liquid came pouring down.

  Although Fang Mu dodged back instinctively, one of his sleeves was still soaked with the stuff. But Professor Qiao had nowhere to hide and was drenched all over.

  Fang Mu sniffed his sleeve. A chill ran through his body.

  It was gasoline.

  The man above disappeared, leaving only the square opening. A thin beam of light shed down from it, as if it were a single eye, watching them with evil intent.

  For a moment Fang Mu was scared stiff. Then he scrambled toward the cage."Professor Qiao…"

  "Stay back!" said Professor Qiao sternly.

  Fang Mu stood where he was, not daring to move, not daring to flick on his lighter.

  Amid the darkness, he stared stiffly at the cage only a few steps away. He could faintly see that Professor Qiao was slowly sitting up, his eyes alive, as if he were pondering some difficult problem.

  After several seconds, Professor Qiao spoke. "Fang Mu," he said, knocking against the bars of the cage. "You once saw someone burned to death, correct?"

  Taken aback, Fang Mu couldn't help but respond. "Yes."

  Professor Qiao snorted. "So that's what this is," he muttered to himself. "No wonder he kept me alive this whole time." His voice rose. "Fang Mu, will you listen to me?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. Sun Pu is probably going to return very soon. Now don't go anywhere and listen to me." Professor Qiao's voice slowed. "Previously I once criticized you very harshly for helping the police to solve a crime. Do you remember?"

/>   "Yes, I remember."

  "I'm old, so old that I didn't dare let my best student put himself to the test, fearing that I would make the same mistake twice." Professor Qiao paused for a moment. "I admit that I was mistaken. You and Sun Pu are different. Therefore you must make it out of here alive. No matter what, you need to stop him."

  "Professor Qiao…"

  "Are you listening?" Professor Qiao barked in a stronger tone.

  "I'm listening," Fang Mu said, forcing the words out through growing despair.

  "Good, you're a good kid." Professor Qiao seemed to have used up all his energy and his voice grew softer and softer. "Now go. Get out of here as fast as you can."

  Tears filled Fang Mu's eyes as he realized that this would be the last time he would ever speak to Professor Qiao. He took two steps back, watching through blurry vision as the professor slumped against the bars of the cage.

  He ran forward and knelt beside the cage. "Professor Qiao, Professor Qiao…" The tears burned a hot steam down Fang Mu's face. "I can't let you stay here alone…"

  "You really won't listen," said Professor Qiao, his voice unusually gentle. "Are you crying? It seems you're not as outstanding as I thought."

  A rough, bony hand stroked Fang Mu's face in the dark.

  "There's nothing scary about death," Professor Qiao said softly. "What's scary is living without a soul. Sun Pu is a soulless person. That's the biggest difference between you and him. Now go and do what you have to do, using your own methods." A burst of evil laughter echoed from overhead.

  Fang Mu looked up. The dark figure was once more looking down through the opening.

  He brought his hand up, light coming with the movement. He was holding a mass of burning paper.

  "No!" Before the words had even left Fang Mu's mouth, the flaming mass had already dropped from the man's hand.

  Fang Mu watched wide-eyed as the paper floated closer down to them, twirling, burning, frequently giving off sparks that spun in the air like a beautiful dance of death.

  An enormous force suddenly pushed hard into his chest, knocking him back nearly six feet.

  In that instant the flaming mass fell through the bars of the cage.

  The flaming paper ignited into a ball of fire, roaring flaming light into the previously pitch-black water dungeon.

  There was a brief cry from Professor Qiao and then nothing more. He twisted amid the raging flames, his hands tightly gripping the bars of the cage, his whole body shaking.

  Fang Mu watched from where he had fallen, watching open-mouthed as Professor Qiao struggled amid the flames.

  A scorched odor filled the air...that old familiar scent.

  The scent of death.

  Suddenly, everything around Fang Mu disappeared. The water dungeon, the cage, Professor Qiao, all of it vanished without a trace...

  He was standing in a flaming hallway.

  The doors on either side of him were ablaze. He could see the burnt and twisted bodies of Fourth Brother and Wang Jian lying in Room 352.

  Where am I?

  Someone slowly stood up against the wall. It was Sun Mei. She no longer looked human. She opened her arms. Bones were sticking out. The strips of clothing still covering her bloody flesh smoked and fell to the floor, piece by piece.

  "Don't kill anyone else…"

  Sun Mei rocked back and forth as she walked slowly toward Fang Mu.

  "Don't kill anyone else…"

  Why did you have to bring me back?

  Why?

  Hold me, said an unknown voice. It doesn't matter if you're Sun Mei or Wu Han, I just need to feel the warmth.

  Even if it's the feeling of death.

  All these years, all this death. I'm already too tired.

  Please let me give up.

  "Are you listening?" That stern voice. He knew it was Professor Qiao.

  "Ahh!" An earth-shattering cry burst from Fang Mu's chest.

  With it, everything in front of his eyes disappeared.

  Once more he was back in the ice-cold water dungeon. The flame inside the cage was already much smaller. Only a portion of Professor Qiao's body was still burning.

  Fang Mu struggled to sit up. He stared silently at the flaming cage before him.

  Goodbye, professor.

  Fang Mu's tears were already gone. He would not cry again. He pulled the knife from his pocket and tossed away the burdensome sheath. He no longer felt cold at all.

  From the light of the flames, he could see the opening above through which he'd fallen. It wasn't far away. The cold-looking ladder stood there silently.

  Fang Mu hurried to it. He quickly climbed the rust-covered rungs and looked at the black corridor overhead.

  Get up there, he said to himself.

  Even if hell is waiting for you.

  A few seconds later, Fang Mu once more reached the first floor corridor.

  The flames from the water dungeon below lit up the previously dark hallway. Without hesitating, he hurried toward the far end of the corridor.

  Cell 3… Cell 5…

  Past Cell 5, the corridor came to an end. In front of him was an iron door.

  Was Cell 7 on the other side?

  Grabbing the door handle, he pulled with all his strength.

  The door rumbled open and Fang Mu's eyes were once more met with darkness.

  Flicking on his lighter, he discovered that he seemed to have reached the end of the bunker.

  Before him stood a cement wall, with a door to either side of it. Unlike the barred doors on the previous cells, these were made of solid iron. The floor was also no longer a wrought-iron see-through walkway, but was made of cement, with a three-square-foot removable iron lid at its center. Beside it sat a plastic barrel. A small amount of red liquid was still inside.

  Fang Mu's hands trembled slightly. This was where the gasoline had come from.

  Composing himself, he raised his lighter and looked at the number on the door to the right.

  7. Just as he'd thought.

  He walked over and stood before door number seven for several seconds. At last, he took a deep breath and pushed it open.

  The space before him was suddenly filled with bright light. Having grown accustomed to the darkness, Fang Mu couldn't help but shield his eyes.

  "Welcome!"

  The voice was icy and coming from somewhere in front of him.

  Dropping his hand, Fang Mu looked toward the sound of the voice.

  Smiling thinly, Sun Pu leaned against the opposite wall, aiming a pistol in Fang Mu's direction.

  "You've reached the core of the bunker, Cell Seven." He nodded at something to the side. "The torture room."

  Beside him stood a large iron cross on which Tai Wei was bound, hands and legs. Yellow tape covered his mouth. He was staring at Fang Mu, struggling desperately. Although he tried to speak, his words were unintelligible.

  "What's wrong? Do you want to say hi to your friend?" Sun Pu laughed darkly. "Or are you begging him to save you?"

  He made a show of sighing sorrowfully. "But I'm afraid that our hero won't even be able to protect himself. What do you say to that, shidi?" His attention turned from Tai Wei to Fang Mu. "How did you like my present just now? It was nice, wasn't it?"

  Fang Mu stared at him without expression. After a few seconds, he calmly looked away and sized up the room.

  Cell 7 was the same size as the other cells, but it was filled with a number of strange iron racks and chairs. There were two ventilation openings in the cement ceiling, allowing the sun to shine through. This was why the room was so bright.

  After looking the room over, Fang Mu turned his attention back to Sun Pu. "Not bad," he said. "You planned this all the way from one to seven. It must have taken a lot of thought."

  Seeing that Fang Mu appeared to be neither angry nor frightened, Sun Pu seemed a little puzzled. As he looked at Fang Mu, whose behavior was more like that of a curious tourist, his smile started to come a little forced. "That's right," he said.
"I just hoped that after all my hard work you wouldn't let me down."

  Fang Mu actually smiled. "Is that so? Then what did you hope I'd do?"

  Sun Pu's smile disappeared at once. "What did I hope you'd do?" He cocked the pistol. "Why don't you tell me?"

  Struggling violently, Tai Wei bellowed something from behind the tape. His wrists had already begun to bleed from the strain.

  Fang Mu glanced over at him, still smiling. "Die?" He laughed. "You're not the first person who's wanted to kill me." He paused. "And I'm afraid you won't be the last."

  "Oh?" Sun Pu made an exaggerated show of surprise. "Who do you think is going to come save you?" He stomped his foot. "That old piece of shit down there?"

  Raising his arm, he pointed the gun barrel at Fang Mu. "The facts have shown that you're nothing more than an overconfident, conceited little fool."

  "Really?" Fang Mu stared at the muzzle of the gun. "Is that why you wanted to kill me?" His eyes moved from the gun to Sun Pu's face. "You're jealous of me," he said softly, "isn't that right, shixiong?"

  Sun Pu immediately paled.

  "Ever since you killed Qu Weiqiang, I've understood what kind of person you are. To cut off a goalie's hands is to deprive him of his power. You're jealous of my intellect, aren't you?"

  "Shut up!"

  Seeming not to hear, Fang Mu continued unabated. "It started at that assembly, didn't it? When you saw me invited to the stage like a hero while you, just an insignificant librarian, could do nothing but huddle in the corner and watch, lying to yourself that those honors belonged to you!"

  "Shut up!"

  Again Tai Wei cried out unintelligibly. Looking at him, Fang Mu saw the pleading, worried look that filled his eyes, clearly begging Fang Mu to stop talking.

  "So you schemed and schemed, wanting to compete against me one on one." Fang Mu gritted his teeth and slowly stepped backward. "You killed one person after another, all to prove that I was not as good of a criminal profiler as you. But did you really win? Do you really not have nightmares when you sleep at night? Are you still able to make love to your girlfriend? Or did Thomas Gill already turn you…?" Fang Mu smirked, and then his voice abruptly turned serious. "Well? Am I right, shixiong?"

 

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