by Tim Heath
“We’ll tax the land harder,” the Commander said, no emotion evident on his ageing face. “We take from the land around us. We fight harder across the border, and we make sure that we obtain these blueprints from the Chinese. Then we’ll be able to print our own money! Enough energy to sell to the continent and plans to sell around the world. Plus, we aren’t going to carry out everything ourselves. We have other friends, with the same interest, who’d be only too happy to receive this information. They’ll make it worth our while, too. Men, there is nothing to fear, no reason to become alarmed. I’m here now, and this situation is going to work for us. I’ll make sure of it.”
There was a loud shout of agreement around the room, before the men started leaving, shaking hands with their Commander before exiting the room. He was once more alone, and he stood there reading the info in front of him, nervous energy running through his veins, the power and danger before him electric. This information was priceless.
15
Central China – Twenty Five Years Ago
The Shule River was approaching its flooding period when the rains from further north bloated the river, and widespread flooding hit the plains. The communities affected most were always the poorest, their land closest to the river and raised just feet, in places, above the often fast flowing waterway.
In the small village school, three teachers had stayed off that day, farming families working hard to save what they could from the coming floods. All hands were needed. The rains had come early that year. For the children who made up the twenty strong class, little had changed. Neither did they fully understand the potential problems. They were too young for that, though that wouldn’t save them for very long. The transition from childhood to adulthood happened quickly in that part of China. Though the school was remote, it did have a class for every school year, in principle, though the class sizes shrank the older the children got, the boys were just needed on the farms, girls to help at home. Education was a luxury few families could afford. Unlike most schools in their province, this school was mixed, though it was still eighty per cent boys, in keeping with local norms. And in the first class, all twenty pupils were male. China was starting an unhealthy habit. Only one of the students, a quiet boy who kept himself to himself and often sat at the back alone, actually had a sibling, his being a younger sister. The rest were only children, products of the one-child family policy now operating in their nation.
As the morning’s lesson proceeded, there was deep concentration being shown by most of the boys, education seen as the only way out of the cycle of poverty that they were all in and the boys, while still so young, had already had this instilled into them. They would get maybe five, or at most six, years at school before the pressures of family life got the better of them. The need to eat would always trump the value of an education.
For seven-year-olds, they showed great hunger for their subjects, and their teacher was happy with their progress. All were on time, and all were involved in the class, all seemed to have friends. Except one. Sitting at the back, silent as ever, was the one boy that just didn’t seem to fit in. A little smaller than most, it was assumed there was just less food to go around, him being the one boy to have another sibling at home with whom to contend. There was no knowing how the family managed. For everyone else in the village, three mouths to feed was already more than they could afford.
Whilst this quiet boy had a name, no one used it. Instead they called him Gudu, which meant solitary. It summed him up ultimately, he had no apparent friends. It was just before lunch when there was a loud crack at the window. The teacher turned in fright, whilst several children screamed. A bird had flown into the glass, it’s imprinted image still visible in the dirty window. Getting up from their tables to see what had happened, the initially frightened children stood at the window, now watching the stricken bird struggling on the ground. The teacher led the children outside. This was an unusual situation not to be missed.
Gathering around the flapping bird, now outside in the cooling air, the children stood silently in a wide circle around it, the teacher, too, keeping her distance. No one knew what to do, and it was now clear that the bird was not going to recover. It had most probably already been attacked by something, its left wing was apparently broken, and there was blood around its head. It was possible that had come from the collision with the window. For a minute the watching class stood silently, watching with nervous terror as the bird moved around in front of them. Inch by inch they edged away from it as if regretting their eagerness actually to have come outside. Then Gudu stepped forward, without saying anything. He walked up to the bird as if walking up to a newborn kitten. The teacher thought about reaching out and stopping the boy but resisted. Something inside her wanted to see what he was about to do. Gudu reached down and picked up the bird in his hands, gently examining its head for a moment. Then with one hand on the body and another on its head, he broke the bird’s neck, putting it out of its misery. He turned, no expression whatsoever on his little face, and walked towards the teacher to hand her the body of the bird. His classmates just backed away, all eyes on the bird’s head now just dangling between his tiny fingers. He placed the bird into the empty hands of his speechless teacher. She’d been too surprised to stop him. He then carried on and re-entered the classroom. The others looked at the teacher briefly, still watching the dead creature before they too followed him back into the school. The teacher deposited the dead bird in a bin and after thoroughly washing her hands tried her best to finish the lesson, continually watching Gudu as he sat expressionless on the back row, wondering for the life of her what was going on in his little head.
16
Central China – Eighteen Years Ago
Hunger pains were kicking in again. It had been three days since his last proper meal. Serving his customers with his usual smile on his face was proving harder than usual, but Gudu did what he always did. He just got on with things without drawing attention to his situation. Trade was good that day, and at fourteen, he reminded himself he was thankful for a job. There weren’t enough to go around and if he grumbled about his situation, ten others were lining up to take his place.
He’d been working in the restaurant for nearly nine months, having dropped out of school as the New Year came round. Like all Chinese, the New Year led to a new start, and he knew this year was going to be his year. He was yet to see quite why, but that didn’t dampen his spirits. He had a sister who needed feeding. She was relying on him. Gudu placed the dishes before his clients, given the honour of serving the most exclusive tables in the little restaurant. These guys usually knew how to tip, and Gudu had waited on them several times before. He remembered everything about them and used that knowledge to bring them drinks before they’d ordered them, doing all he could to make their time a pleasure.
Not that this level of service had any influence on the man who employed him. The owner was as selfish as they came, a big man who had apparently eaten most of the profits. He only cared about money and paid his workers very little. It was an employers’ market––if the kids didn’t like the wages, they could take a hike. There were plenty more boys desperate for the opportunity to work.
As early evening came, Gudu’s large party group were settling up. They called him over personally and after saying a few words, handed Gudu a wedge of notes and thanked him for his service. Gudu looked down at the money in his hand, more than he’d earn in a year, but his joy was short lived as seconds after the group left the restaurant, the owner came over to Gudu and took the money from his hands. He claimed it was to be split between everyone like all tips were. That rarely happened.
Gudu watched as his boss wobbled his way over to his office, placing the money into his safe before slumping down into his chair. There was no way anyone was going to see even a fen of that amount. It made Gudu’s stomach turn again, as hunger pains that had remained silent for a while made themselves known once more.
An hour later and the
place was now closed. The kitchens had been cleaned, the staff all dismissed. The owner did a final check before locking the door and walking over to his car. He drove away seconds later. For a moment there was total silence, before a shadow appeared and made its way towards the front door, keeping close to the main wall. Gudu eased his way through a window next to the entrance, landing silently on the floor. The restaurant had no alarm, though the office at the back did.
Ten minutes later, Gudu was back outside. The building was left untouched, nothing there to suggest anyone had been visiting. The alarm in the small office was unaffected. Gudu had been in, opened the safe and after taking the money he’d been given but leaving the rest of the money that was in the safe at that moment––at least five times what he’d taken––he’d gone again without raising the alarm.
Now on the street outside the building once more, he took a moment to examine the money again. He kept one yuan in hand and pocketed the rest. His sister would be eating well tonight. Gudu ran the two miles, barefoot as had become his custom, to the shop nearest to their humble home. He bought two steamed buns for them both and a drink each. It seemed like a feast to someone so hungry. Getting home before ten, he handed a steamed bun to his younger sister, who thanked him silently before taking a mouthful of the stuff. It was a happy end to her twelfth birthday.
17
Beijing, China – Fifteen Years Ago
For two small village peasants, their first trip to a big city was both an overwhelming and yet exciting time. Gudu had promised to bring Yanmei to the capital when she was old enough and now fifteen, her moment had come. For her seventeen-year-old brother-cum-parent, it was also a time for new possibilities.
Yanmei had been able to finish school; Gudu’s work and tips, the only money coming into the home, had been enough to provide for them both. It was enough to get her through school, and together Gudu knew the capital city offered them previously unheard of possibilities. It also exposed them to much more danger that their naive-selves had yet to come across before.
Yanmei was beautiful and well formed and was turning occasional heads almost as soon as they arrived in Beijing. Gudu had spotted the fact right away, though his younger sister, as always, was oblivious to it. He would keep it that way, but it concerned him that maybe he’d left her too sheltered. He wouldn’t be able to continually look out for her, as one day she would have to make her own path.
It was after walking into a restaurant as lunch approached that things became far worse. It would also result in both of their futures ultimately becoming radically different. The place in question was not overly busy but was well liked by members of the Secret Police, animals that Gudu had yet to have the misfortune of meeting. Three men, in particular, sat around a table in the corner, and they made no effort at keeping their eyes from Yanmei as she walked in with Gudu, watching her as the two of them walked across the room and sat at their own table. Gudu kept his peripheral vision on the three but did his best to act normal.
Five minutes later the three men came over, crowding around the small table that Gudu and Yanmei occupied.
“Papers!” one of them demanded. They smelt heavily of alcohol.
Neither sibling did anything, looking up at the three men, fear showing in Yanmei’s green eyes. The officer repeated his request, his gaze now fixed squarely on the girl.
Gudu began to stand but the man nearest him, wooden baton in hand, pressed it into his shoulder, pushing him back into his seat. The other two men laughed.
“If you don’t have papers, you’ll have to come with us. You have to be old enough to be in here,” he spoke to them both but was looking only at Yanmei. The man on the left of the three proceeded to lift the girl up from her seat so that she was now standing. Gudu was still sitting down, the baton from the man on the right again pressing into his left shoulder, holding him in place.
“Search the girl first,” ordered the man in the middle, now turning to look at Gudu, a smile on his face.
The man on the left patted her shoulders, before very deliberately handling her breasts. He then ran his hands down her thighs, turning her around and pressing his groin against her backside. Both of his colleagues now laughed. The man in the middle didn’t take his eyes from Gudu, who showed no expression on his face but his eyes were wild.
“Take her away. We’ll have some fun with this one. Teach her how to be a grown-up,” the middle one of the three said, slapping her on the backside as she was led away. Yanmei glanced briefly over her shoulder as she neared the door, her brother looking at her but not saying anything. He was left alone as the other two now backed away, going to join their colleague with the girl. As they exited through the front door of the restaurant, Gudu jumped up and ran to the door. He saw the three men getting into their car, his sister already in the back seat. He ran out through the door as they were pulling away and jumped into a taxi. Following the car as best he could, he got out of the cab just a few minutes later, in front of the building that the three had stopped at and watched while they took Yanmei inside. It wasn’t a police station, but a commercial building of sorts. Gudu ran up to a window and saw his sister led into a small office, before being locked inside––they were saving her for later. All three walked away, happy with their catch. They would wait for the office to quieten down for the day before each would have their turn with the country girl. Rape was a common problem in the large cities, and with a police force at the centre of the issue, there was little anyone could do about it.
It was dark before the three men returned to a building now empty, an office locked up, their secret treasure inside. A treasure they would enjoy unwrapping, a gem to be uncovered. They came to the door of the small office, still locked from the outside, and on opening the door were surprised to see not only Yanmei sitting inside, looking relatively calm but Gudu too.
“Why you…” the first man said, running forward to snap this worthless piece of trash in two. He had no business being there, spoiling their fun. Instead, Gudu stepped up quickly, moving to the side at the last moment and with the officer’s force and weight to carry him on, used the momentum to slam the guy into the wall. He fell to the floor unconscious. On seeing his fallen colleague, the second man raced forward, wary of making the same mistake and changing his approach accordingly. Instead, Gudu quickly dropped to the floor, kicking hard at the legs and groin of his attacker, before swinging his leg into the side of the head of the falling man, who now also hit the floor unconscious. Gudu had barely broken a sweat. The one remaining officer, baton far out and arm extended, came forward to attack. The girl was his prize, and she was indeed worth fighting for. The first two swings of the baton were wild and missed their mark by a long way, Gudu easily outmanoeuvring the officer in front of him. It was the third attempt, as the officer swung from the side aiming for his head that Gudu grabbed the guy’s arm. With surprising force, Gudu twirled the man around, one arm tight and tense behind his back, and drove the man forward, heading face first into the wall, which he collided with moments after. Blood was already coming from his mouth as he lay on the floor dazed, Gudu kicking him hard in the head sending him also into unconsciousness. All three men were down, barely thirty seconds after unlocking the room where they thought their victim would be sitting helpless.
Gudu led his sister out of the small office, locking the door behind him. The officers would undoubtedly have some explaining to do when they were discovered at a later point. That wasn’t his concern right now. He was just happy his sister was safe.
Rumour soon spread as to this man’s exploits. And with any rumour, so the legend grew. A general in the army heard about what happened two days later. He knew talent when he saw it, as well as loyalty and integrity. The young man, whoever he was, undoubtedly possessed abilities that far surpassed his own Secret Police. A man who could lock himself in a closed room and effortlessly walk out of an attack where he was much outnumbered, and not for his own profit, but to save another. And so it w
as that just twenty-four hours after first hearing about the incident, the General had managed to track down the siblings, looking for the man behind the legend, and was hugely impressed with what he found. Gudu got offered a job with his new unit––they both were. Yanmei was intelligent. She would be trained up for analysis work. Gudu would be used in the areas he most naturally fitted. And so The Shadow Man was born.
“Welcome to the job,” the General had said to him once his initial training had been finished. He was not yet eighteen years old. “Let me introduce you to a friend of mine, who is going to be working for us shortly from London,” and he led Gudu over to a female with a striking beauty who would turn any head. The General said to Gudu while turning to the lady: “This is Elizabeth Mayfield.”
18
South Coast of England
The sound of a helicopter could be heard overhead. Elizabeth knew she had very little time. They’d surprised her that they’d been organised enough to catch up with her so swiftly. She’d greatly underestimated their abilities, given the circumstances. She was also now running out of options. A road escape was off the cards, nor had she ever considered that possibility. Driving to the peninsula itself had ruled out such an exit. She had always planned, in the unthinkable but now actualised event, to make her escape by water. At least the helicopter would have fewer options if she was at sea, though it was also true it would be harder to hide. It was now or never. If they called in sea support, she would be quickly captured.