The Blade of Silence (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 3)

by Mi Lei

  He was exhausted. With a sigh, he let himself drop onto the cold ground. As he watched the sun lazily rise over the horizon, he could hardly believe that he'd managed to make it out of the underground river alive.

  After a few deep, ragged breaths, he forced himself back on his feet. This was not the time to relax. A quick survey of their surroundings showed that they had probably emerged on the east slope of the Dragon Tail. His gaze wandered down the mountain just in time to see the tail end of a truck disappear from view.

  It had to be the buyer's truck. Fang Mu checked his watch. Six-thirty. The buyers had been waiting for an hour now. They had probably realized that something was wrong. More likely than not, Fang Mu and the girls were already being hunted.

  He quickly pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. His heart sank. The fight in the underground river had damaged his phone and now it wouldn't power-on. He knew how damaging this was; he and the girls would remain in mortal danger until he managed to contact the police.

  He looked down the mountain. At first glance, there was nothing but wilderness; no villages, houses or even roads. Then, he spotted something in the distance. Red smoke was rising from a stack. Below, he could barely make out what looked like a large factory.

  He suddenly recognized the buildings. He was looking at the Juyuan Steel Mill.

  It meant hope. They just had to reach the mill. From there, he could call the police.

  Fang Mu took a deep breath and then led the girls down the mountain. Even at dawn, the temperature on the mountain remained below zero, far colder than inside the cave. Soaked through as he was, Fang Mu soon felt the painful bite of the cold as his clothing seemed to freeze solid against his skin. He would have to walk faster if he didn't want to die of hypothermia. Those four girls were already scrambling down the mountain as fast as their short legs would carry them.

  Fang Mu decided to jog short distances to warm himself and then wait for the girls to catch up. After what seemed like an endless number of these stops and starts, they had finally reached the foot of the mountain. He could hardly believe they had made it that far. Now, it was just a short stretch of wilderness and they would be at the mill.

  It was almost eight o'clock by the time they approached the Juyuan Steel Mill. From the distance, the factory seemed abandoned. Fang Mu hadn't seen a single person move between the buildings. The morning shift hadn't yet started, but the area was just too quiet.

  Fang Mu was about to doubt his decision to come there when the factory gates slowly opened in front of them. A man in a security guard uniform emerged from the guardhouse. As he approached, his eyes wandered up and down Fang Mu.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "Can I use your telephone?" His hand shaking from the cold, Fang Mu pulled his police ID from his pocket. "I'm a police officer."

  "Oh." The security dismissively pointed at the guardhouse. "There's a phone in there."

  With a "Thank you", Fang Mu led the girls across the courtyard. The security guard followed at a distance. About halfway to the guardhouse, Fang Mu noticed that something was seriously off.

  Just to his left, some stuffed buns and a spilled glass of soy milk were lying on the ground. In the cold air, he could clearly see that steam was still raising from scattered breakfast remains.

  It appeared someone had left in a hurry.

  Brow furrowing, Fang Mu turned to Tian Xiao. "You wait here; I'll be back in a minute." He quickly walked to the guardhouse.

  There was not much to it other than a bed and a small table. As Fang Mu entered, the security guard caught up with him. With a nod, he motioned to a telephone on the table.

  Fang Mu noticed that the guard had taken the plastic baton off his belt and was now holding it loosely in his hand. He turned to the telephone, but kept his eyes fixed on the stainless steel cup at the end of the table. The reflection on its dull, metallic surface gave Fang Mu a good view of what was going on behind his back.

  He reached out and dialed the police emergency number: One...One...

  His finger was on the final "0", when he saw the guard's reflection move. At the same moment, he heard something whistling through the air toward his head.

  Fang Mu dodged to the side, just in time for the plastic baton to graze past his shoulder and smash down on the phone. With a crack and a mechanical whine, the telephone shattered to pieces.

  There was no time to think. Fang Mu instinctively thrust his elbow backward. It scored a solid hit that was rewarded by the guard's pained grunt. Spinning around, Fang Mu saw the man collapsed to the ground, clutching his eye. Fang Mu rushed out of the guardhouse.

  He snatched up one of the girls and dashed toward the factory gate. He stopped in mid-run. The gate had been closed. Several men burst out of hiding spots and charged toward him.

  It was an ambush.

  Fang Mu turned to the girls. "Run!"

  There was no way they could make it out. His only hope was to hide somewhere inside the factory and find a way to escape from there.

  The girls in tow, Fang Mu rushed into the nearest building. The moment he opened the door, they were hit by a wave of sweltering hot air. Looking up, Fang Mu saw that the heat was coming from two electric arc furnaces. It was a foundry workshop. Metal tracks ran along the ceiling to each furnace and there was a large, roughly 12 feet wide concrete casting platform that stretched across the middle of the workshop. All of the machinery was very much active, but curiously unattended.

  Fang Mu quickly signaled the girls to hide, and shouted to the workshop, "Is anyone here?"

  The moment he opened his mouth, he felt a rush of hot air scald his throat, forcing him to cough violently. It achieved nothing as only the roar of the machinery answered his call.

  He understood. The workers had been driven from their posts so that he and the four girls could be killed in peace.

  It was not the time to analyze his situation. Quickly, Fang Mu turned and barred the workshop's entrance with a shovel. As soon as he did, he felt the door shake with a deafening bang. Seconds later it was hit again, this time with even more force.

  Fang Mu scanned the workshop again. The floor was covered with slag and on one side there were disorderly piles of unused molds and steel ladles. He could see no other way out. At least the girls had already disappeared from sight. Hopefully, they'd found a good hiding spot.

  The heat of the workshop made each breath parch his throat and burn in his lungs. Before his clothes could properly dry in the heat, they were soaked again, this time in sweat. He quickly slipped out of his jacket as he continued to look about the workshop.

  The pounding on the door continued unabated. Fang Mu did his best to wipe the rivers of sweat from his brow and turned back to the door. The shovel was already badly bent and he could see the metal door start to push open inch by torturous inch. Through the crack, he already saw the faces of his pursuers.

  And who were these people?

  Fang Mu had seen most of Lu Village in the mob at the ancestral hall and he was certain these were no villagers. Maybe they were Boss Liang's men.

  But how had they found him there?

  There was no time to think. With a loud crack, the shovel's wooden handle snapped in two. The door flew open and his pursuers burst into the workshop.

  Before they could see him, Fang Mu jumped behind a steel ladle and held his breath.

  His pursuers seemed to be in no hurry. They stood by the door for endless seconds. Then, they slowly marched forward. Fang Mu couldn't see them, but he heard the rustling of their footsteps on the concrete floor and then the sound of guns being drawn from holsters.

  They were armed.

  Cursing in his mind, Fang Mu desperately looked for something he could use as a weapon. But the only things within reach were misshapen and far too heavy lumps of steel slag. Then he noticed a pipe. It was a high-pressure water pipe, part of the furnace's cooling system. At the moment, it was his best hope. Slowly and carefully, Fang Mu snuck towa
rd it.

  Six men had entered the workshop to hunt for Fang Mu and the girls. There was nothing conspicuous or uniform about their clothing, but their faces all showed the same deadly calm and vigilance. Two of them stood guard at the door while the other four were combing the workshop, pistols in hand. There were few places to hide in the foundry and the hit men concentrated on the most obvious spot: The piles of steel ladles and large molds.

  After a few minutes, one of them stopped and picked up a small piece of slag. He struck it hard against one of the ladles. The loud, echoing clang was almost instantly followed by a high-pitched scream.

  A girl jumped out of the ladle, still covering her ears with her hands. The moment she saw the man, she froze in fear.

  The man raised his pistol and aimed at the girl's head. His face was devoid of all emotion.

  Suddenly, someone leapt from the shadows. The hit man spun around and came face-to-face with the man who had stolen the girls. The boss had been very clear; he had to die. But the hit-man could barely believe what he saw. That man, the one who had caused them so much trouble, was pointing a water hose at him. The tension left the hit man's body and a crooked smile curved his lips.

  What did the idiot think he was going to do, shower him? In the heat of the room a little water might actually be nice.

  The man opened the valve on the hose.

  Piercing pain exploded across the hit man's face. How could water…? No, it felt like the hose was firing countless cold, steel needles.

  The hit man screamed as the jet of pressurized water hit his head. Covering his face, he collapsed onto the floor. Blood flowed freely from between his fingers.

  Fang Mu dropped the hose and grabbed the man's gun from where it had fallen, just as another hit man arrived. Fang Mu raised the pistol without hesitation and fired twice. One bullet cut through the hit man's thigh, sending him sprawling to the ground. The man screamed and clutched his bleeding leg.

  In a blink, a hail of bullets descended upon Fang Mu. He dropped to a crouch and grabbed hold of the girl. Bullets struck left and right as he scrambled into cover behind one of the molds.

  The whizzing, metallic storm stopped and for a moment the workshop fell into silence. The only sound was the hum of the machinery and the soft moaning of the two wounded men. Long minutes passed. Suddenly, the pained moans stopped for one short moment. Then Fang Mu heard something heavy being dragged across the concrete floor. They were retrieving their wounded.

  Fang Mu pulled the magazine from the pistol. There were five bullets in the magazine and one in the chamber; six bullets, six more chances. Two of the hit men were already down. It would be tough, but at least now it would be a fight.

  Judging from the sounds, the remaining four men had regrouped back at the door. Fang Mu was armed now and they were apparently in no hurry to get shot. Even though it looked like a stalemate, Fang Mu knew all too well that his enemies were at a considerable advantage.

  Despite his stomping down hard on the brakes, the Santana slid a good ways before coming to stop at the roadside. They were close to the factory now. For a few seconds Zheng Lin stared in confusion. Then, he turned to Little Zhan. "Are you sure this is it?"

  Little Zhan, too, seemed surprised. "Must be. Elder Brother Nan told us that he tracked Fang Mu's phone here. It hasn't moved since."

  Zheng Lin muttered something under his breath, then quietly said, "Young Hai, go and see what's going on."

  Young Hai nodded and got out of the car. After a quick check of their surroundings, he briskly walked toward the factory buildings.

  Suddenly, shots rang out and erased all doubt. It was the right place.

  His eyes fixed on the factory, Zheng Lin reached for a cigarette. The scratches on the back of his hand screamed with pain as they brushed against the fabric of his trousers. Fuck! That Zhao woman really put up a fight.

  Shaking his hand, he turned to the girl sitting in the passenger seat. She was staring out the window, apparently completely oblivious to the tension in the car.

  After a while, Zheng Lin asked her, "What's your name?"

  In fact, he had asked her that very question at least a dozen times, but he still hadn't gotten an answer. It was the same with his other questions: "How old are you?", "Where do you come from?", and "How do you know Fang Mu?" Even when he had gently asked her, "What class are you in?" and "What do you want to be when you grow up?", she simply refused to respond.

  During their entire drive there, the little girl had blankly looked out the window, never once showing any interest in them or where they were going.

  Zheng Lin was convinced that this little girl knew something that was vital to Old Xing's case. But if she refused to talk, what good would she do as a witness? Then again, Fang Mu had taken great risks to get his hands on her, and then hid her at that orphanage. Why would he have done all that if she really had nothing to offer?

  He finally found his cigarette and lit it, furiously sucking down the smoke. Perhaps this girl could save Old Xing.

  And perhaps she was completely useless after all.

  The phone on the dashboard vibrated. Zheng Lin hurriedly answered the call and switched it to speaker.

  "Yes?" he answered.

  "Boss, I can see him," Young Hai whispered from the phone. "Fang Mu is here with a couple of young girls. He's under attack. Looks like six guys. Jin Yongyu is among them. Two are already wounded, but they're all armed. How do you want me to proceed?"

  "Where are you?" Zheng Lin asked.

  "Under a window. No one has seen me. I'm good." Young Hai waited, and then asked again, "What now, Boss?"

  Zheng Lin still hesitated. He turned to Little Zhan. For a few seconds they looked at each other. Little Zhan slowly shook his head.

  Zheng Lin's eyes narrowed as he stared Little Zhan right in the eye.

  Little Zhan knew that he had to explain. "Boss, all three of us have been suspended. If we screw up again, it'll be all over," he said quietly. "What I'm trying to say, is that we don't know why Fang Mu and those guys are fighting. What if this has nothing to do with Old Xing's case? It's just not worth it."

  After another moment of silence, he added, "We three are brothers, but Fang Mu is not one of us."

  Zheng Lin turned his gaze back to the factory. What Little Zhan was saying made sense. There were six armed enemies. Even with Fang Mu, there were only four of them and they weren't armed. It just didn't look like it was going to end well, even if they did come to Fang Mu's aid.

  Zheng Lin bent down to the cell phone. "Young Hai, find a place to hide and await further instruction."

  "But, Boss..." Young Hai sounded deeply uncomfortable with the plan. "...There are children here."

  "There're too many; there's nothing we can do. Let Fang Mu sort out his own mess." Zheng Lin paused. "We'll go in and pick up the pieces once it's over."

  The phone went silent. Several seconds later, Young Hai hesitantly tried again. "Boss?"

  Zheng Lin lowered his eyes and slowly said, "You heard me. Hide and wait for further instructions."

  He reclined his seat, lay back, and closed his eyes.

  They would wait for the shootout to end and for all the causalities to be counted. And then they would act. Even if they didn't get closer to saving Old Xing that day, at least they would be able to get Jin Yongyu on attempted murder charges—though it might be murder charges when it was all done… No, he wouldn't go there. He was sure: Waiting was simply the best and safest course of action.

  Or was he just making excuses?

  Zheng Lin pushed his back further into the seat as he continued to struggle with his conscience.

  There was an awkward silence in the car as Zheng Lin and Little Zhan studiously avoided all eye contact. Both, however, listened intently to every faint noise emanating from the phone. They were doing their best to piece the sounds together into a picture of what was happening in that factory.

  Suddenly, a soft but clear voice spoke up.
/>   "I'm going to join the police and catch bad guys."

  Zheng Lin was stunned. He whipped his head around to stare at the little girl. "What did you just say?"

  She was still sitting in the passenger seat, impassively looking out the window. He could have sworn that she hadn't moved at all.

  He was looking right at her, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. His conscience was burning. It felt like her words had poured liquid fire into his soul.

  He had no idea what was going on inside that little girl's head, but he did understand that she had just answered one of his questions. What do you want to be when you grow up?

  Zheng Lin turned back. He felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders and the tension drained from his body.

  "I'm going to join the police and catch bad guys," he repeated lowly. He smiled.

  He raised his head and looked at Little Zhan's reflection in the rearview mirror. Little Zhan was looking back at him, his eyes burning with fierce determination.

  Zheng Lin leaned forward and simply said, "Young Hai, we'll save them."

  Nothing moved in the sweltering heat of the foundry workshop. A deadly, breathless silence had fallen as both sides carefully considered their next move. While the hit men were busy trying to determine his position and planning their attack, Fang Mu was focused on something else entirely. His main concern was the safety of the three other girls.

  Quietly, he asked the girl from the ladle, "Where are the others?"

  The constant terror of the past hours had taken its toll. First, the girl just stared at him, her face almost drowning in sweat and tears, and then she began to tremble uncontrollably. Finally, she managed to stammer, "I don't know." She swallowed. "We all ran to different places..."

  Fang Mu ground his teeth. The only way out of there that didn't involve the main entrance was the workshop's windows, but those were a good six feet off the ground. Even if he got hold of the girls, it would be almost impossible to lift them through the windows without getting shot in the process. For now, he could only pray that the hit men wouldn't find the girls before he did.