On Fire

by Thomas Anderson

Chung Yao’s associates, by which is meant, his underlings, noticed Yao’s loss of temper after discovering that Dai Gu had been fished from the waters of Victoria Harbor like so much cod.

  For his part Dai Gu is even more dismayed. He is seated in front of Yao, very much alone and on his own, and this he knows only too well is not a position one should wish to find oneself in. He is in the middle of three leather seats that are attached to a common metal base and there is no one in the seats on either side of him. The near drowning has cost him two days of recovery and he is only now beginning to regain his strength.

  Yao’s office is in the upper floors of the Tat Tsing Cargo Carriers freight forwarding and shipping transfers building. The building is located in the Kwai Chung District of the territories, on the Western mainland, north of Hong Kong. Facing Yao, who sits silently in his fancy, wheeled office chair, Gu can see out the wide expanse of office windows to the Kwai Tsing and Tsing Yi container port districts. The port is messy and industrial, but he can see beyond it and across the water to the famous Hong Kong skyline. From their vantage point high on Kwai Chung at night, the port below has a yellowish, ghastly glow cast by cheap sodium vapor lights. The City skyline is a handsome backdrop to the ports, the multitude of the tiny lights of the office and residential towers merging in the distance. Victoria Mountain is a black looming presence behind the towers, barely visible against a violet night sky.

  “You should have taken them at night in Kowloon,” states Yao finally, his face turned to undecipherable stone.

  “Had I they would have seen me coming. The streets were near deserted. There were no cabs to use to get ahead of them. I did well to stay out of their line of sight under the circumstances.”

  Gu watches his breathing. He has a tendency to catch his breath when nervous, leaving himself short winded. This is noticeable. Instead he struggles to breath with measured regularity, unwilling to show any sign of weakness to a man who is used to governing others through fear.

  “And where did they go?” asks Yao.

  “The waterfront. They met a man.”

  Next to Yao is a panel sized tv set at a low height into a wall bookcase. Gu has activated it with an image from the phone he points at it.

  The image is of a hoodie cloaked Yuan Cheng, taken at a distance. Zak and Kim are in view nearby.

  “I gave this to our technical people. They have identified the man as Yuan Cheng, who works for Min Chin. I think they helped get our friends out of the country,” Gu states with authority.

  “And what could possibly have motivated Chin to be so generous?”

  “Information,” Gu answers without hesitation.

  Yao nods his head.

  “Of course.”

  Something sufficient to interest Chin in this way had to be valuable.

  “Did our technical staff also tell you that we have reason to believe others are attempting to follow these events. Guoanbu and American intelligence are involved. You should be careful.”

  “I will be.”

  “This thing is proving to have considerably more worth than we originally thought. State Security has followed them to California. I need you to follow up.”

  “I’ll be on the next flight.”

  Chin frowns.

  “Yes, you will be.”

  Gu is quick to rise. He moves with alacrity toward the door, happy to be dismissed.

  “And Gu,” Chin calls after him.

  Dai Gu spins on the ball of a foot, one hand on the doorknob, returning an expectant and respectful look.

  Chin’s face is stern. He pauses for effect.

  “Don’t come back without it.”

  Chapter 39