The Dragon and the Needle

by Hugh Franks

  Mike appeared at the kitchen door and said, ‘Okay, madam! Dinner is served!’

  When she got to the door he kissed her, holding her for a moment. He said softly, ‘I have orders for you, and they must be obeyed.’

  She could tell from his expression that he was joking with her so she joined in the game. ‘What are they, sir?’

  ‘One: there is to be no shop talk during the meal. Two: I want you to stay here, with me, tonight.’

  She looked up at him. ‘Those are easy orders. I obey.’

  After her first bite of the steak, Eleanor smiled at Mike and said, ‘Where did you learn to cook so well?’

  ‘That’s a long story. But I know one hell of a lot about you, from what I’ve read in the files: where you lived in New York, your background, education, the lot. Perhaps it’s only fair that you should know a bit more about me.’

  ‘Shoot. I’d love that.’

  ‘Well, some of it may surprise you. My father was a miner, a coalminer. The life killed him, and as a direct result, my mother too. An aunt and uncle brought me up. I was lucky: they loved reading, books all over the house. Most of my boyhood friends did not make it to university. I read medicine. Let’s see, what else?’

  ‘You came from what they used to call working-class roots in Britain?’

  ‘That’s right. No brothers or sisters. Because of my father’s death, I suppose deep down inside me was the idea of good health for all.’ He paused and smiled. ‘Then,’ Mike continued, ‘I loved rugby, played for university and all that. I suppose that’s about it.’

  She smiled across at him, ‘And no girls?’

  ‘Yes, but none like you. And I’m known as a workaholic. Maybe that’s just as well.’

  By around 8.30, the dinner had got to the coffee stage. Now they were not smiling at each other. They both saw the anxiety in each other’s eyes. He spoke first.

  ‘Eleanor,’ he said, ‘I’m full of apprehension about us, especially about you.’

  She read his eyes and gently bit her lip. She leaned across the table and took his hands in hers. ‘We both know the probabilities, don’t we?’

  ‘If I were to lose you,’ he said, ‘that would be the end for me. I must come with you!’

  She felt sick with frustration. Neither of them could stop the direction of forces beyond their control. They could imagine, but were unable to grasp the possibilities in terms of each other, of human life. It all might end in a tragic disaster. Eleanor rose to her feet and a moment later, he stood up and she crushed herself to his body.

  ‘You can’t do that!’ she cried out, ‘it would all explode in our faces and come to nothing. If for a moment they thought you were around, they would shut up shop, they would probably kill you and …’

  She stopped talking and looked at Mike. She had never seen him with such an expression before. It was a mixture of dismay and astonishment.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ she said hoarsely, ‘Mike! What’s the matter?’ she repeated.

  ‘It’s the thought of what’s facing you! What kind of people, what kind of person is your husband, if he’s still alive!’ The face of her husband, this man totally unknown to him, flicked through his mind: Chinese, grim. MI5 had shown him a photograph of the man, told him how much he was liked. Chen Shousan, did he hold the key to all this misery? His racing heart checked him for a few seconds. Then he was holding her tightly in his arms, wanting to tell her much, much more.

  Eleanor’s warm breath glided across his cheeks. He guided her towards the bedroom. Later, they would talk and plan. For now, they seemed to have cast a spell around one another, speaking no words, afraid the spell would break with words. Nothing else mattered. For a short while the strains and fears vanished.

  Afterwards they talked of their love for each other. When she finally left, early the next morning, she looked back at him from the lift door. The way he stood reminded her of his strength – a rock. She felt more secure. They had arranged to meet once more before her departure for France, at MI5, to see Patrick.

  A car was waiting for her in the street outside Mike’s flat: security agents had already taken over, to guard and protect her. On the way to her flat, Eleanor began to plan her next moves.

  It was 7.30 a.m. as she entered her hallway, and she saw Ah-Ming sitting, quite relaxed, on a sofa close to the lift. She had not for one moment thought of this as even a remote possibility. She glanced around quickly, suddenly feeling threatened. As she turned she also thought, is there a bodyguard behind me? Someone to help her? There was no one behind her that she could see. Her steps had faltered, but she suddenly regained courage.

  As she approached him, Ah-Ming stood up to greet her, smiling. He bowed slightly from the waist, straightened himself and said, ‘You were up early this morning?’

  Did he know she had been out all night? They stood facing each other, as she nodded and said, ‘Yes, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you.’

  He said nothing, but continued smiling at her, looking at her sideways, as though waiting for her to speak. She obliged with, ‘Have you been waiting long?’

  He still did not speak, then, without any warning, there was a noise from the lift. It began to rise to the floors above.

  Ah-Ming spoke abruptly. ‘We do not know who is in the lift, do we?’ he asked.

  The strange question was quickly answered by Eleanor. ‘At the moment, there is no one, is there?’

  ‘Perhaps, perhaps not. You can’t be sure. Although there is something that you can be sure of, Dr Johnson.’

  She hid her mounting feelings of fear. Her face was a mask as she spoke. ‘And what is that?’

  He bent closer to her face. There was silence in the hall once more, for the lift had stopped. Eleanor made no movement as he glanced at his watch. ‘Dr Johnson,’ he spoke quietly but harshly, ‘on the floor of your flat, just inside the door, you will find your instructions for travel, nothing more.’

  As she stared at him, the noise of the lift recommenced. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the indicator show it was returning down to the hall. She nodded.

  He went on, ‘Remember, always remember, that the reason you are still alive is our belief, your husband’s belief, that you can be of help to China.’ Then the hostility faded from his face as Ah-Ming said, ‘I’m glad to have the unexpected opportunity of meeting you again. Can you recall the last words I quoted to you yesterday?’

  The lift had stopped behind Ah-Ming. In the few seconds left before the lift door opened, she said calmly, ‘Yes. I will never forget them. “He who assists a ruler with Tao does not force the world with arms.”’

  The lift doors opened. Standing inside, his head slightly bowed, was a Chinese man. He came out of the lift, and she stood and watched him and Ah-Ming go down the hall together to the front door, open it, and disappear into the street outside.

  The Minister of Health had played his part well in the Commons, he had even managed to urge the Press to pay greater heed to the secret nature of MI5 activities. But just when he felt at his most confident, the ‘serpent that lurketh in the grass’ struck. The ‘serpent’ in this case was a television programme broadcast only a few hours previously in the States. He was informed about it by the United States Secretary of Health – a positive, cooperative, thinking woman, a doctor like himself – when he had spoken to her on the telephone.

  ‘As you know well, Minister,’ the American said to him, ‘I’m keeping you fully informed on events over here. Now this goddam TV programme! Why the hell has the World Health Organization kept quiet on this?’

  ‘Kept quiet on what?’ the Minister asked.

  ‘Oh! Of course. I’m sorry, I assumed you knew the gist of the programme.’

  ‘’Fraid not.’

  ‘Well, the investigator said that the World Health Organization has latched on to a link of some sort between ENDS and Oriental medicine.’

  ‘Link?’ the Minister asked.

  ‘Yeah, that’s co
rrect. Apparently a Chinese guy working in the set-up has been keeping strict covers on the connection. He’s been very successful, too.’

  The Minister felt riled. Coupled with the efforts of MI5 and what he had been told about Clifford and the American, Dr Johnson, all had been moving well. Now this publicity! Could everything be put at risk? ‘But what exactly do they know?’

  ‘That’s the problem, Minister. Other than the victims’ occasional visits to the Chinese clinics and suchlike, nothing else at all.’

  Thank God for that, Norman Hall thought. He felt better. He said, ‘As a matter of fact, I was going to contact you in the next few days – it might be good news. Meanwhile you may hear something yourself, perhaps from your President.’

  The call between them continued for a minute or so longer. After the call, the Minister followed his own instincts. He was worried; he called MI5. What he was told made him feel much better.

  Patrick of MI5 stood beside his desk, looking down at a map. He was smoking his fifth cigarette of the morning and waiting for Mike and Eleanor to arrive. He glanced at his watch. Eleanor was scheduled to leave for France on the 5th of the month. Today was the 3rd. He would have preferred more time to organise the French military at Mont Louis, the HQ of the elite ‘Choc’ troops in France, but the die had been cast. He had discovered that Eleanor’s orders from Ah-Ming included a strict timetable, one that she had to follow precisely.

  He placed a finger on the map in front of him, and traced out the direct route from Mont Louis to Malinya. Well placed, he thought, for quick action, should it become necessary. He smiled to himself and wandered across to the window. His own team had obtained a copy of Eleanor’s orders. As he looked down at St James’s Park he thought for a moment of telling Eleanor about his team and the copy they had received, from a mole inside Ah-Ming’s organisation. He decided quickly against that idea. Dr Clifford already knew, in any case; it was better that Eleanor Johnson, at this stage, was ignorant of some MI5 activities. Under pressure, or worse, she might break down and disclose information.

  His telephone buzzed. They had arrived and were on the way up to him. He had run many assignments, and was skilled, ruthless and fearless in their execution. This one, he thought, would be one of the most difficult of them all. He wondered what sort of a woman Eleanor really was. There was considerable danger for her ahead: was she conscious of it all? Well, it was inevitable, and only fools could think of fighting against evil with kid gloves on. Whatever else, she was not a fool.

  Eleanor and Mike had met for the first time since their night together in his flat. Meeting in the formal surroundings in King Charles Street was not conducive to a warm embrace – neither the time nor the place. But in the lift they had the opportunity. They held each other tightly for several seconds.

  Mike started to say something, then hesitated, and finally spoke. ‘I love you so much, Eleanor. Whatever is done or said in the next few hours, always remember that.’

  ‘The other night at your flat, I realised how much I love you,’ Eleanor said. As the lift came to a halt she went on, ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you how you have felt since my acupuncture treatment?’

  He smiled back at her smile. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘And you’ll find that I’ll probably be using a kind of needle to help you – maybe in Patrick’s presence.’

  The lift doors had opened. She frowned, looking puzzled. She had no idea what Mike was talking about. He took her arm gently as they walked down the long corridor. She could hardly believe it was only a few days ago that she had first walked down this same corridor.

  As they entered his office, Patrick was standing by his desk and looking at the map now spread out before him. He welcomed them both and said cheerfully, ‘Do sit down,’ and on the way to his desk chair he waved his hand in a wide arc around the room. ‘You’ve both been here before, but I don’t think I told either of you that in this room, MI5 has been handling assignments since the Second World War.’

  Eleanor still wondered what Mike had meant about using a ‘kind of needle’ on her. She felt irritated by the mention of war. She turned to Mike, and then quickly faced Patrick, who glanced swiftly at Mike and back to her as she spoke firmly. ‘I don’t believe either of us are concerned about the Second World War or any other war. We’re both doctors. We want to cure and heal, not kill!’

  Patrick was ready for such a reaction from her. He smiled back sympathetically and said, ‘Of course you’re absolutely right. But we also think it’s our duty to prevent war by keeping our guard up. Our work helps to do just that … and we also know it’s our duty to care for those like yourselves who answer our call for help.’

  With those words he got up and then sat informally on the edge of his desk, asking them to look at the unrolled, large map of France. Several times in the next half-hour, Eleanor was surprised by the information already gathered by MI5 – details of Carry Tiger to Mountain were so precise, yet they still had no idea as to the cause of ENDS. But she was impressed with the concern Patrick had for her own safety and the lengths he was prepared to go to achieve that end.

  In spite of such concern for her, she dreaded answering the inevitable questions. They were soon being asked, once the map of France had been explained to her, with Malinya, in the Pyrenees, the nearness of Mont Louis to the small village, the speed with which help could be sent to her – if necessary. The first question was put by Patrick. He folded up the map and returned to his chair.

  ‘So you see,’ he said, ‘we know exactly where you’re going.’ He paused, giving her time to remember that only a few days ago, during their first meeting, she had not told him exactly where. ‘Is there no way of finding out what you want to know without going to Malinya?’

  For God’s sake don’t dig so deep, she thought. To look at Mike wouldn’t help either. She licked her lips and said, ‘I thought I’d made that clear to you already. First I have to find out if my husband is alive, so I have to go on my own … and go I must.’

  ‘You see,’ Patrick said simply, ‘we might be able to find that out for you.’

  ‘And you might not. It has to be a face-to-face meeting.’

  Patrick tensed. ‘Why should that be?’

  ‘If my husband is alive … who knows … he may have had his features changed, but I would know him, whatever.’

  She half smiled, but Mike could see her fingers below desk level, unseen by Patrick. They were tapping nervously on her dress.

  He came to her rescue. But he spoke cautiously, saying to Patrick, ‘Not only is there that problem for her,’ he paused and turned towards Eleanor. ‘There is some vital link she has to check … a link that she does not want to discuss. That’s so, isn’t it?’

  Eleanor nodded her head in agreement, feeling deeply thankful for Mike’s presence and loving him more than ever. ‘That’s absolutely right. I have to handle it myself. In a way, I hope my belief is wrong.’ She felt confident once again, saying pointedly, ‘But if I’m right, then at least we will know what we are facing. And if I’m right, even then,’ she paused and said with emphasis, ‘the deaths might continue for some time yet.’

  There was a trace of sarcasm in Patrick’s voice as he spoke. It was a quality that often worked wonders in questioning. ‘What you’re saying is that even if your thinking is right, the deaths will continue. We’re in the business of stopping them! Like next week!’

  Eleanor did not rise to the bait, but spoke as though she was continuing his sentence on his behalf. ‘Like next week. And that phrase epitomises the attitude of the West to the East: everything has to be clear-cut, tomorrow! Get the facts and use them to beat ’em! That’s not the way the Oriental mind works!’

  Her voice had risen, but her outburst had its effect. She could tell that from Patrick’s expression. She glanced quickly at Mike. He was looking at her admiringly, smiling his admiration for her.

  Patrick hesitated, then decided he could continue with the plans already under way, to give her every po
ssible assistance. ‘OK,’ he said, ‘and if what you say is true, whether or not your husband’s alive, they won’t want you to leave that College of Oriental Medicine in Malinya. You don’t know the place …’

  ‘Oh, but I do.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. I went there once years ago with my husband.’

  ‘I see. Well, you may find it’s changed. And you still may want help from us.’

  ‘Yes,’ she managed a smile. ‘But what do you mean by it being changed?’

  ‘It was enlarged a few years ago,’ Patrick said. ‘We picked that up from the Prefecture in Perpignan.’

  ‘The French have always been into acupuncture,’ Eleanor stressed, aware now that MI5 had even more details than she had thought possible. Then casually, she went on, ‘I remember how carefully they chose the site for the Centre.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘The Chinese are convinced that Yin and Yang elements combine to help their lives. The site faced south where there is a large lake – water gives them the Yin. And it backs onto Mount Canigou in the north – the mountains give them the Yang. It’s as simple as that.’

  ‘Interesting,’ Patrick said.

  ‘Fascinating belief in their principles,’ Mike agreed.

  ‘Yes,’ Eleanor continued, ‘it’s a happily placed building.’

  The next development surprised her. Patrick opened a drawer in his desk, taking from it a large folder. As he proceeded to open it on the desk, she recognised at once the Oriental Centre in Malinya. There were photographs, and she saw at once how much it had been enlarged.

  Patrick became brisk, beginning with, ‘This is the layout of the buildings. You’ll see there are interconnecting rooms on the whole of the ground floor – consulting rooms, I’m told.’ Then he indicated an enormous basement area with his fingers, spreading out across the plan. He indicated a section of the basement and said, ‘We have very little idea of what goes on in this area. Who knows? Perhaps this is where you’ll be taken?’

  He looked up at their faces, glancing at each of them in turn, as though hoping there would now be some questions. His authority seemed to fill the room. There were no questions, merely a look from Mike towards Eleanor. She continued to stare at the map, knowing he was looking at her.