by Chris Ryan
The boat had completely disappeared. The only sign of it was the swirling ripples and whirlpools it had left on the surface of the river, and the terrible undertow that felt like it would pull Max down.
‘Where is Sami?’ Abby shouted. Max’s head felt like an echo chamber, her voice reverberating inside.
Where is Sami?
Where is Sami?
WHERE IS SAMI?
18
Searchlight
The instant Lili ended the call to Abby, she and Hwan started to run. And they hadn’t stopped since.
They kept to the shadows wherever possible. The camouflage of trees. Along high walls. In one way it was like running through a ghost town. The ordinary citizens of Pyongyang were all in bed. Few civilians were about, and those who were walked hurriedly with their heads down and their shoulders hunched. In other ways, it was like a war zone. Helicopters buzzed overhead, flying north. Police sirens screamed in the distance. Lili and Hwan followed the line of the river, but not always directly. Hwan knew the city well. He was able to take them on routes that kept them away from the main road by the river. When they heard a siren close by, or a helicopter searchlight threatened to illuminate them, he was able to find a doorway, or a side street, or a thicket for them to hide in. As they passed the next bridge, they were sweating, scratched and sore. Lili checked the time: 03:20 hours. She felt dizzy with panic. They only had forty minutes left, and they were still on the wrong bank of the river.
‘We need to get to one of the bridges,’ Lili said as they crouched, breathless, behind a bush on the edge of an immaculate public park. ‘We need to cross the river.’
‘The bridges are often guarded,’ Hwan said. ‘Tonight especially …’ He looked steadily at Lili. ‘Will they keep their word?’
‘Who?’
‘The British, of course. Will they keep their word about my parents?’
Lili didn’t know. But she nodded firmly. ‘I’m certain they will.’ She wasn’t sure Hwan believed her.
‘The nearest bridge is Chongnu Bridge. It crosses an island in the middle of the river, then goes over to the other bank. Like the bridge over the hotel island.’
‘How far is it?’
‘Five minutes from here, if we run.’ As he spoke, there was another siren in the distance. They froze and waited for it to fade away.
‘I wish I knew how the others are getting on,’ Lili said. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling.’
‘Call them,’ said Hwan.
Lili nodded. She took out her sat phone and dialled Abby’s number.
‘Where is Sami?’
The Korean guards, saving themselves, were halfway to the shore. The water was still swirling. The undercurrents were strong. It was all Max could do to keep his head above water. He was woozy, and his body ached from the beating he had received on the boat. But he, Abby and Lukas continued to tread water, searching for some sign of their friend. There was none. A cold, sick feeling spread through Max’s tired limbs.
There was a splash. A figure broke the surface close to Max. Max squinted through the darkness as he heard the heavy rasping sound of somebody inhaling desperately. He swam towards the sound, aware of Abby and Lukas doing the same.
‘Sami?’ he called. Then, when he realised it wasn’t his friend, ‘Prospero?’
Prospero was gulping in air and couldn’t speak immediately. Max swam so he was face to face with her. ‘Where is he? Where’s Sami?’
‘I don’t know,’ Prospero gasped. ‘The last time I saw him … in the hull … cutting me free …’
‘You didn’t help him get out?’ Max demanded fiercely.
‘Lost each other …’ she rasped. She seemed unable to get any more words out. Max wanted to shriek at her. How dare she leave Sami? How dare she not help him?
But his thoughts were broken by another splash. He spun round to see a second figure breaking the surface just behind him. Another almost inhuman gasp for air …
Sami.
His eyes rolled. His mouth and nose sank beneath the water. Max surged through the water and grabbed him from behind, keeping him afloat and his face exposed to the air.
‘Talk to me!’ he hissed. But Sami couldn’t. After the initial intake of air, he could barely breathe.
‘We need to get to the far side of the river,’ Max shouted at the others. ‘Quickly!’
Lukas was next to him, helping to keep Sami afloat. ‘We do it together,’ he said. Max didn’t argue. He did his best to ignore the chain manacled to his ankle as they held one of Sami’s arms each and powered through the turbulent water towards the river bank. Unhindered by Sami’s weight, Prospero and Abby were able to move faster, but they kept close to Max and Lukas, ready to take over if they needed to.
They didn’t. It was slow and exhausting work and the far bank approached only imperceptibly. But Max and Lukas found a rhythm. Before long, Max’s feet touched cold, sludgy silt and they were able to carry Sami on to a shingle beach. A huge billboard overlooked the bank, showing a smiling picture of Kim Jong-un.
‘Put him on his front,’ Prospero said. Max wanted to argue with her, but he caught the expression on her bruised, swollen face and realised she knew what she was talking about. He rolled Sami over. Prospero slapped him hard between the shoulder blades, and an astonishing amount of river water gushed from his mouth.
‘He’s not breathing,’ she said. ‘Get him on to his back.’
Max rolled him over again. Prospero put her lips to Sami’s and gave him two long rescue breaths. She got ready to start chest compressions, but Sami suddenly coughed and inhaled. His eyes flickered open and more water spilled from his mouth.
‘Thank God,’ Prospero said. ‘We owe this one our lives.’
‘You don’t have to tell me that,’ Max muttered. For some reason, he still felt an overwhelming anger towards Prospero.
‘Hey,’ Abby said. ‘Who’s this?’ She pointed at Prospero.
‘It’s Prospero,’ Max said.
If Abby felt surprised that Prospero was a woman, she didn’t show it. She just carried on speaking with calm efficiency. ‘Lili’s managed to dupe the North Koreans. They think we’re heading north. Hwan’s parents are in a prison camp and we’re going to demand their release in return for the two North Korean spies. We need to get to the pick-up zone by 04:00 hours.’ She checked her watch: 03:30 hours. ‘We only have thirty minutes. Remember, they said it was a disused football stadium two miles south of Pyongyang.’
‘I know it,’ said Prospero. ‘But we’re going to need a vehicle to get there in time.’
‘How do we find one?’ Abby said.
‘Leave that to me. We need to get away from the river before they come searching for us. Let’s move.’
‘Wait,’ Abby said. ‘Lili and Hwan. We need to hook up with them first.’
‘What’s Hwan doing with Lili?’ Max said.
‘There isn’t time to explain,’ Abby said. As she spoke, her sat phone rang. She removed it from the pouch in her wetsuit and answered. ‘Go ahead,’ she said. And then: ‘Wait, I’m going to put you on speaker.’
She pressed a button and Lili’s voice became audible.
– Are you safe?
Abby looked round at the others: at Sami, kneeling, gasping and coughing. At Max and Lukas, bent double with exhaustion. At Prospero, who looked like she’d just come out of the ring with a heavyweight boxer. All of them dripping with river water and bedraggled.
‘We’re alive, if that’s what you mean,’ she said. ‘Max, Lukas and Prospero are with us. The barge has gone down and we’re on the other side of the river. Where are you?’
– We’re heading to Chongnu Bridge. We need to cross it.
‘It’s five minutes in a vehicle,’ Prospero said. ‘Fifteen on foot.’
– Who’s that?
‘Prospero,’ Abby said. ‘We’re going to find a vehicle. We’ll meet you on the far side of Chongnu Bridge. Then we’ll head to the …’
Abby stop
ped mid-sentence. Max knew why. From their position on the river bank, they were looking towards north Pyongyang. In the distance they could see three helicopters. They were heading their way.
‘Lili,’ Abby said tensely.
– I see them.
‘You said the authorities thought we were heading north,’ Lukas said accusingly.
‘Yeah,’ Abby replied. ‘I guess having their prison boat on the river bed is making them think twice.’
– Get moving.
Lili hung up. The cadets and Prospero stared at the helicopters. Powerful searchlights beamed down over them, dancing crazily over Pyongyang. They were moving quickly in their direction.
Prospero picked up a sharp, heavy stone from the river bank. ‘Can you walk?’ she asked Sami, feeling the stone’s weight.
Sami nodded shakily. Max helped him to his feet. They staggered away from the river towards an area of rough scrub leading to a deserted main road. Moving was difficult with the chains manacled to their ankles. They were heavy and scraped along the ground behind them. Along the opposite pavement ran a perfectly straight line of trees, clearly intended to be attractive. Beyond them, though, was a run-down administrative building, several storeys high but with no lights on, its concrete façade cracked and crumbling. ‘There’s a car park behind of that building,’ Prospero said. ‘Let’s get there. Run!’
Max kept one of Sami’s arms over his shoulders and helped him across the road, following the others. They could still hear the helicopters. When he looked back towards the glowing lights of central Pyongyang, Max saw they were circling over the river, around the point where the barge had gone down. Searchlights were scanning the water. Max doubted that he and the others even had a minute before the choppers started to search this area.
‘Come on, buddy,’ he urged Sami. ‘We need to up it.’
Sami nodded. They had crossed the road and were in the moon-shadow of the administrative building, shivering in their damp diving gear. Prospero led them along beside the building, her chain scraping along the pavement, still carrying the stone she’d found. When a vehicle moved along the road, headlights burning, she lay flat on the ground until it passed. The cadets did the same. Back on their feet, they hurried round to the rear of the building. Here there was a mural of fierce North Korean soldiers brandishing pistols. But there was a car park – of sorts. Cracked tarmac. A security booth with a broken window. Max could tell that this was a part of Pyongyang that tourists weren’t supposed to see. There were only three vehicles here: a saloon car and two vans. One of the vans was much older than the others, dented and rusty. To Max’s surprise, this was the van to which Prospero led them.
‘Hey,’ Abby called out. ‘Shouldn’t we use the other one?’
Curtly, Prospero shook her head, but left it to Lukas to explain. ‘It’s easier to hotwire older cars,’ he said.
Prospero was already moving round to the front passenger door. ‘Stand back,’ she said. She pressed the stone against the bottom right-hand corner of the window. ‘Top tip,’ she said. ‘It’s much easier to break a window at the corner. It’s weaker there and the frame of the window stops your hand following through into the broken glass.’ With a sudden, sharp movement, she jabbed the stone into the corner of the window. She was obviously very strong. The glass shattered and fell into the passenger seat. Prospero unlocked the vehicle from the inside and clambered over the shattered glass to the driver’s seat. ‘Get into the back,’ she shouted.
The others pushed the passenger seat forward and clambered into the van. Max saw Prospero rip off a panel under the steering wheel and grab a fistful of coloured cables. Seconds later, the engine coughed and started.
‘Hold on!’ she barked.
The cadets crouched on the bare floor of the van, keeping their heads lower than the windows so they wouldn’t be seen. As Prospero hit the accelerator, they slumped together in the middle of the floor.
The van sped away from the car park. Max checked the time. 03:40 hours. Sweating through his damp dive gear, he knelt and checked out of the window. The helicopters with their searchlights were swarming over the river bank they had just vacated. They had to head for Chongnu Bridge to hook up with Lili and Hwan. Max’s heart thudded at the thought of what the next twenty minutes would have in store.
19
Full 180
Hwan was not as fit as Lili. He bent double, gasping for air, as they stood beneath a sprawling tree looking towards Chongnu Bridge. The stretch of street they were on was tree-lined. Bunting with scores of tiny individual North Korean flags criss-crossed between the trees. Through the bunting they saw three helicopters circling over the river, their searchlights playing on the water. A few vehicles were crossing the bridge, but they did not appear to be police or military. Just civilian.
If they were going to cross, now was the time.
Lili took out her sat phone and dialled Abby. ‘Where are you?’
– We’re on our way. We’re in an old white van. Prospero is driving. We’re heading for the bridge.
‘We’re going to cross now,’ Abby said, and hung up. She pulled Hwan up to standing. ‘Come on. We can’t wait. Look confident, as if you’re supposed to be here.’
Hwan swallowed hard and nodded. They locked arms and strode across a main road, waiting to let a car pass. Hwan couldn’t take his eyes off the circling helicopters, but Lili focused on their more immediate surroundings. The other side of the bridge was not visible in the darkness, but the way ahead – a pavement adjacent to the road – was clear. There were no other pedestrians, and – crucially – no police.
Lili kept her head, and her pace, up. She felt like she was dragging Hwan in her wake. So much for looking confident, she thought. She checked back over her shoulder. There was nobody following. Up ahead, their path was clear.
The helicopters had moved to the far bank of the river, their searchlights beaming down. Hwan kept looking at them, plainly terrified.
‘It’s okay,’ Lili reassured him. ‘As long as they’re searching that area, it means they don’t know where we are. Come on – we’re almost at the island.’
And they were. To their left there was a large circular building that spanned the width of the island. To their right, open ground. They pressed forward, crossing the island in a couple of minutes. Now they were over the water again. Lili peered forward, desperate for the sight of an old white van up ahead. But there was no sign of it.
‘Where are you?’ Lili whispered. ‘Where are –’
The shouts came as if from nowhere. Lili’s heart sank. She and Hwan stopped, stock-still. Then they turned to peer through the darkness behind them. Hwan muttered something in Korean under his breath. Lili counted the figures: eight, maybe nine. They were on the bridge behind Lili and Hwan, and running towards them.
‘Run!’ Lili hissed. Her arm still linked with Hwan’s, she started to sprint, dragging Hwan with her. The shouting grew louder. Lili knew she had to up her pace, but with Hwan slowing her down, that was impossible. It crossed her mind that she should let go of him, that she should run ahead and save herself. But she couldn’t – wouldn’t – do that. They had a deal. ‘Keep running!’ she shouted at him. ‘As fast as you –’
There was a bang. She felt a rush of air just past her right ear. At first she didn’t know what it was. But it was as if her instincts were several steps ahead of her conscious thoughts, because she was already flinging herself and Hwan to the ground. She understood what had happened: someone had just fired a gun at her. As they landed in a heap on the hard ground, a second shot rang out. She heard the bullet whizzing just above them. If they had still been running, that round would have slammed straight into one of them. Whoever had fired it was shooting to kill.
She rolled on to her back and looked towards the gunmen. They were getting closer. A third gunshot rang out. Hwan whimpered.
With trembling hands, Lili felt for her own pistol, the one she had stolen from room 1313 and which she had
used to force Hwan from the hotel. She hadn’t seriously considered that she might have to use it. Now, she realised, she had little choice. Shakily, she cocked the weapon and flicked the safety switch to semi-automatic. The gunmen were thirty metres away and closing. They were wearing military uniform. They were fast and fit.
She fired.
She had aimed the round above the heads of the advancing men. It was a warning shot, no more. But it worked. The soldiers immediately hit the ground, just as Lili and Hwan had done, and fell silent. Lili released a second round. The men stayed low and there was no immediate retaliation, but she and Hwan were outnumbered and outgunned. The advancing soldiers would realise that soon enough. When that happened, they had no chance.
Their only hope was the rest of the cadet force. Lili fumbled desperately for her sat phone. One-handed, her sweaty thumb slipping on the keypad, she dialled.
Prospero was driving soberly. Max understood why: a carefully driven vehicle was much less likely to attract attention. But it felt impossibly slow. He suppressed the urge to shout at her to drive faster.
Abby had removed a hairpin from her hair and unlocked the manacle round Lukas’s ankle. She was just getting to work on Max’s when her sat phone rang, the handset lighting up the back of the van. She answered it immediately and put the speaker phone on.
The first sound they heard was unmistakable: gunshot.
‘What’s happening?’ Abby demanded.
– Get here quickly. We’re under fire!
‘What’s your location?’ Max shouted.
– We’re on the bridge. We’re pinned down with approximately eight soldiers shooting at us.
There was more gunfire.
They’re firing again. Get here NOW!
‘Did you hear that?’ Max yelled at Prospero.
‘Hard not to,’ Prospero shouted back. She sounded calm, but she put her foot down and the van sped up. They heard more gunfire over the phone line.
Max checked his watch. 03:45 hours. Only fifteen minutes until they needed to be at the pick-up zone. ‘How much longer?’ he shouted.