Surviving Spies
Irving Waters
Contents
From the Author
Disclaimer
Part I
1. Lu Lei
2. A Celebration
3. School Begins
4. A Demonstration
5. The Bell Tolls
6. The Bully
7. Mopping up
8. Bad News
9. Doubts
Part II
10. Adoption
11. Policy Change
12. Burning Books
13. Assets
14. Renovation
15. The Virologist
16. Wei Bao's Mother
17. Plan B
18. Showdown
Part III
19. Loss
20. Vacation
21. Suspicions
22. A Video Camera
23. Jimmy
24. The Truth
25. Preparations
26. Double Hit
27. Lu Lei's Revenge
28. The Signal
29. The Chase
30. Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Irving Waters
Copyright © 2021 by Irving Waters
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This novel is dedicated to all those who are persecuted by their governments because of religious or spiritual beliefs.
From the Author
The suffering of the Chinese population over the centuries was not included in the standard history books studied at school by my generation. However, one day, at the school I attended, a rogue teacher arrived, offering studies in Mandarin. We were entering the fifth grade, and it was a very unusual choice that lay before us. Latin, or Mandarin –but not both. Thankfully, the lady offering the class turned out to be a dynamic and imaginative teacher, and we found ourselves not only learning the language, but also using calligraphy brushes, making dumplings, reading modern Chinese history, and even traveling to China.
It wasn’t until my second trip there that I managed to make sense of the strange incidents and interactions that I had there when I was thirteen. We were all so naive back then.
I continued my studies all the way through to University where we even studied poetry and folklore. By that stage, some of my colleagues had been posted in various cities of China, and things were pretty tight still, for all concerned; and then ‘Tiananmen’ happened, as we say.
Read on, as we pick up the story of our young protagonist.
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Epigraph
Surviving spies– are those who bring back news from the enemy’s camp.
“The Art of War”
Sun Tzu (c. 544 BCE)
Part I
1
Lu Lei
Beijing, 1997
Lu Lei loved perching on the handlebars of her dad’s bicycle while he rode to tai chi class. She'd squeal and giggle as the bike passed close to the people sitting at street stalls eating their evening meal. She liked to hold her hand out to graze people’s backs as they leaned over their bowls to shovel food into their mouths. Lu Lei was liked by her parents’ friends and students. She was a most precocious five-year-old whose fists clenched whenever she felt confronted with opposition. Her parents found it easier to take her along with them to their tai chi classes than to force her to stay home.
Her mother hoped that Lu Lei might absorb the calm that the class instilled in the students, but Lu Lei wanted what she wanted, and her fierce determination was potent.
Her parents would take turns teaching the class, both of them being "lineage holders," trained by their master to pass on the unbroken tradition and knowledge that he had been taught by his master.
Lu Lei had long ago rejected each of her parents’ orders to sit in the corner, instead standing in front of the class copying the movements as best she could.
Her father’s name was Wu Feng. The Master advised him to allow Lu Lei to carry on with her childish imitations of the students' movements. Wu Feng sometimes even encouraged the students to copy Lu Lei. He kept a close eye on her and tried his utmost not to smile at the cuteness of her motions, although his students often failed to hide their adoration for the young girl.
On the nights when her mother, Sun Yi, taught the class, Lu Lei would concentrate more fiercely on her movements. Lu Lei secretly preferred her mother’s style of discipline, which was far more strict than that of Wu Feng. Sun Yi's harsh commands were, to her, like a direct stream of love.
Once a week, the Master came to observe. His presence inspired the students, and they all looked forward to these special classes. Lu Lei constantly looked to the Master for encouragement, and when he talked to her, his exaggerated enthusiasm drove her to work harder.
On the occasions when the Master appeared for class, Wu Feng and Sun Yi each looked forward to spending an hour or two alone with him after the students left. He had always chosen to discuss the deeper philosophies and traditions of tai chi and related disciplines, but in recent years his discourses included the practice of Falun Gong, which had gained momentum around the time of the birth of Lu Lei, five years earlier.
The Master was nearing his eightieth birthday, for which occasion Sun Yi was organizing a celebration at their house. He knew an enormous number of people. They expected the party to go all afternoon and well into the night. The guests would be from all walks of life. They would all be on their best behavior despite the ongoing minor feuds that are inevitable in any close community. The culture dictated a certain level of politeness at such an event, especially considering the high esteem in which the Master was held by most who claimed to know him.
Despite the Master’s presence, tonight’s class started ten minutes late. A student was trying to find out if anyone had seen her husband. She was worried because he was never late. She beckoned to Wu Feng to begin, and he conceded, taking his place at the front. The Master stood to the side, stroking his white beard, and Lu Lei went to the front near her father.
After class, the Master’s discourse in the smaller, dimly lit room took a sterner tone than usual. The wife of the missing student had been distraught and had left early. This situation had jarred him. During the last few days there had been some unwarranted police attention to Falun Gong practitioners, and both Wu Feng and the Master could feel the fate of the movement shifting to a darker path. Lu Lei sat on the floor with a pile of blank paper, black ink, and a pointed brush. She was aware only that the adults were talking in hushed tones while she concentrated on the calligraphy exercise assigned by her father.
“Something has changed,” the Master said, shaking his head. “They are watching us. Our quest for spiritual growth does not line up with Communist Party policies. If the government wants to crush us, they shall. The best thing we can do is to grow. Every time the boot comes down on some of us, more will have appeared. We must teach with more intensity, but we must remind our students that the way to permanent change is usually the middle road. Unnecessary suffering need not plague us on our journey. I will make some inquiries at the birthday celebration. The Police Chief has been invited
?”
“Yes, he has.” Wu Feng was glad that the Master had offered to do this. He rarely ran into the Chief on the street, but when he did, it was never pleasant. The Chief still took immense pleasure putting Wu Feng’s serenity to the test.
They grew up in the same neighborhood and went to school together, though the Chief was several years ahead. He became a bully early on and took advantage of Wu Feng’s smaller stature, provoking him relentlessly. Wu Feng’s placid nature and tai chi training opened the gate for the Chief to escalate his verbal attacks. One day, a backhanded slap to Wu Feng’s face landed the Chief in the principal’s office, and after a brutal beating from his father, the Chief was sent off to the army.
The Master heard the relief in Wu Feng’s exhalation. He kept watching Lu Lei, impressed by the characters she had painted on the page in black ink. She was a fast learner, and she had just demonstrated that which he had taken an hour to put into words: Focus. Do it to the best of your ability. The rest will follow.
Wu Feng stood up as the Master rose from his seat. Lu Lei followed them to the door.
“Please thank Sun Yi for her preparations for the celebration of an old man lasting another year. I look forward to seeing you there, Wu Feng. And you, Lu Lei, remember to be mindful of your breathing. All the impediments that so bother you will fall away.”
The Master smiled and walked away, leaving Lu Lei very conscious of her lungs. “Come Lu Lei, let’s tidy up so we can go home, and stop holding your breath. That’s not what he meant.”
Lu Lei was once again on the handlebars, her father pedalling toward home. It was just after eight and the streets were busy. She was hungry, and she didn’t mind that her father wasn’t making the trip fun by riding close to the food stands.
A man in uniform twenty feet ahead was holding his hand up, blocking their path. He was smiling and spread his arms to greet Wu Feng, who slowed to a stop. He helped Lu Lei to the ground.
“Wu Feng. It is marvelous to see you. Where are you coming from tonight?” inquired the Police Chief.
“Chief, it is good to see you too. Lu Lei and I are on our way home for dinner. Have you eaten?”
“We have. Have you met my son? He has just turned six. About the same age as your little girl.”
“Yes, she will be six in November.”
“He’ll start at Jingshan Primary next month.”
“She will also be there next month. It seems that they shall be in the same class.”
“This is interesting news, Wu Feng. Let’s introduce them, shall we?”
Wu Feng gestured toward his daughter, “This is Lu Lei.”
The Chief waved a hand at his son, “And this is Wei Bao. Shake your new friend’s hand, boy.”
The six-year-old seemed big for his age and his hair was cut very short, giving him a harsh appearance. Lu Lei held her hand out toward him. He looked up at his father, who nodded at him to shake. The boy grabbed Lu Lei’s hand for a second, releasing it instantly, and backed away from her to the safety of his father’s leg.
Wu Feng breathed calmly, hoping for an indication that the awkward chance meeting was over.
The Chief looked at his son with unmasked disapproval.
“I shall see you at the birthday party.”
“We look forward to seeing you, Chief.”
The Chief flashed a momentary insincere grin before turning and walking off, giving his son a shove.
Wu Feng breathed in deeply and exhaled, looking down at Lu Lei. “That was the Chief. He is a powerful man. We must show respect to both him and his son, just as we should to all people. Sometimes it can be harder to do so. You will see, Lu Lei.”
He lifted her back up, and continued the journey home for dinner, all the while thinking about how problems in life tended to repeat until they were addressed.
Sun Yi was standing outside with her hands on her hips when Wu Feng’s bike coasted through the gate. Located in an industrial area on the edge of town, the house had been a small factory which had gone bust. It had been stripped of machinery and then abandoned. Wu Feng had bought it from the government at a bargain price, and his students had helped him convert it into a home over the last couple of years. It was a large space, sparse with few furnishings, a high ceiling and a polished cement floor. Lu Lei had no idea that their home was unusual.
People loved to visit and contemplate life with Wu Feng. He was only twenty-nine, but to his students and friends he was far wiser than his years. Sun Yi was a more practical person, and though she usually agreed with her husband’s ideas and admired his thought processes, she tended to get on with the job at hand without the need to talk about it.
“Is everything alright? Why the long face? Did you kill a bug with your bike or something?” Sun Yi asked, lifting Lu Lei from the handlebars.
“Let’s talk after bedtime. She’s hungry.”
Sun Yi bustled them inside where food was waiting on the table. Wu Feng helped Lu Lei wash her hands while Sun Yi spooned steaming rice into a bamboo bowl.
“How are the party plans coming along?” Wu Feng asked, walking into the kitchen.
“You know me. I get the job done. People will bring too much food, anyway. We still have a couple of days to decorate the house. Don’t you worry. Lu Lei, sit at the table now.”
Wu Feng sat and pulled Lu Lei’s folded calligraphy exercise out of his jacket and handed it to Sun Yi, smiling, “This was the best one.”
Sun Yi smiled. He looked so proud. They both knew how impressive her work was. Lu Lei scrutinized her father who was putting food in her bowl, using the metal chopsticks they always kept in a vase on the table.
“Very good, Lu Lei. What did the Master say to you?”
“He said to watch my breath.”
Her parents both nodded gratuitously, smiling at each other, while Lu Lei loaded rice and sautéed beef into her mouth, struggling just a little with the heavy metal chopsticks that she insisted on using because her mother used them.
“Give her some spinach and broccoli.”
“I don’t want spinach. It tastes bad.”
“Excuse me? What did you say about my cooking?”
“I don’t like Spinach!” Her left hand clenched tightly into a fist as she glared back at her mother.
Wu Feng sighed, putting some broccoli in her bowl. Lu Lei unconsciously copied her father and filled her lungs, then sighed exaggeratedly.
“I would like some spinach please, but not much.” She scowled at her mother for an instant and then smirked, “Coz it’s bad.”
Sun Yi's eyes shut tightly, her attempt to avoid smiling, wholly unsuccessful.
After dinner, when Lu Lei had been put to bed, Sun Yi sat back down at the dinner table where Wu Feng was looking over the invitation list.
“The Chief flagged me down on the way home from class. He asked where I was coming from, which was a provocative question. He knows exactly where our studio is, and I was wearing my tai chi uniform. Also, one of the students did not show up, so we are worried about him.”
“I heard. His wife came by to ask if I’d learned anything. Apparently he didn’t return to work after lunch which means that he’s been missing for eight hours.”
Wu Feng looked surprised. He’d been hoping that there had merely been a misunderstanding and that they would see him at the next class.
Sun Yi asked, “What happened with the Chief?”
“He had been out to dinner with his son. The boy is six, and he will be in Lu Lei’s class when they start school. His name is Wei Bao. Not a happy child from the look of his face. A lot of fear. You’ll probably meet him at the birthday party.”
“Sounds about right. Maybe he’ll turn out better than his father.”
“No one wishes this more than I.”
2
A Celebration
Sun Yi wiped the sweat from her forehead with a sleeve. She had spent the morning cleaning the house and preparing food for the party while Wu Feng put up strings of lig
htbulbs to brighten up the old factory. Someone still had to unpack the boxes of glasses and plates, but a few students were coming early to help. The Master had given Wu Feng a wad of cash to take care of the beer supply.
The invitation list was an eclectic one. There were many names that Sun Yi didn’t recognize. The Master had even invited a couple of Americans, Matt and Casey Nelson. Beijing had been experiencing an influx of foreigners over the last few years, mostly in manufacturing. She had never met any, and neither had Wu Feng.
She saw the Master’s silhouette appear in the entrance. She smiled warmly and walked over from the kitchen to greet him, but Lu Lei was already there, reaching up to take his hand to escort him over. Sun Yi’s eyes welled up, seeing the two unlikely friends interact. Lu Lei was a handful, and the Master always provided some welcome relief.
The Master’s eyes sparkled, charmed by his tiny protege. “How is your suffering today, Lu Lei? Are you letting anything bother you, or are you focusing on your breathing?”
“Last night my mother tried to make me eat awful spinach, but I breathed.”
Surviving Spies (Irving Waters, Spy Fiction Series) Page 1