BLOOD DRAGON

by Freddie P Peters

  Pole knew better than to try to remove the helmet, but he slid up the visor. He shook his head in disbelief. There was Cora’s friend, Nat looking pale and lifeless.

  The sound of two ambulances made him stand up. The paramedics rushed towards them. A small Asian man took Nat’s pulse. “She’s alive but the pulse is faint.”

  “Where are you taking her? UCH?”

  “That’s the closest.”

  How ironic. She was being taken back to the very hospital they had come from.

  A police car had arrived to cordon off the area. Pole spoke to the officer in charge and asked for a lift back to rejoin his team.

  “Andy … I’m on my way back.”

  “Mandy and PC William are OK, but DS Branning is in a bad way.”

  “Nat Price is barely alive.” Pole took his DS through the chase. They were coming back to UCH, directly to A&E.

  When Pole arrived back on Ollie’s ward, Andy was holding a tea for both Mandy and PC William. They looked a little bruised but otherwise alright.

  “Branning?” Pole’s voice shook a little.

  “They are operating … the scalpel she used to fight him off made a large gash in his neck … very close to the jugular artery.”

  “Half an inch and he would have …” Mandy let the phrase hang.

  “How about you, Gov?”

  “Just a few bruises … nothing to worry about.”

  “They brought her in 25 minutes before you arrived.” Mandy took a sip of tea. “They wouldn’t say anything about her condition.”

  “I tried to confirm her ID.” Andy looked a little off himself.

  “No need … As I told you, I’m absolutely certain it is Nat Price.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She is … was … one of Cora’s closest friends.”

  Those who had tea concentrated on their drinks, and Pole turned around to find the vending machine. “Where is Cora in all of this?”

  “I’ve sent her back home with a police escort.”

  Pole was about to ask how Cora had taken the news they had caught the suspect, when a senior nurse came out of the operating theatre.

  “How is he doing?” Pole moved towards him.

  “Not out of the woods yet.”

  “Any news about the woman?”

  “They are running a CT scan.”

  “Is she conscious?” Pole couldn’t quite believe it.

  “She is, although we have given her something to calm her down. Amazing after the battering she’s taken.”

  “You need to show me where you’ve taken her.”

  “Sorry, but that information is for medical personnel only.”

  Pole took out his ID again.

  “Sorry, but she is incredibly dangerous, and the reason why one of my officers is on the operating table at the moment.”

  The nurse went pale and moved the heavy translucent plastic door aside. “I’ll show you where she is.”

  Pole nodded to Andy to follow them.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “I am finding the answers to some of my questions … Father always seemed a mysterious and complex person. I dismissed it as just the memory of a child, but perhaps I was right.” Nancy had sent a long voice message to Pole. She had tried to call him at 2pm London time, hoping he would be busy. She didn’t want to have to lie to him about the Sichuan trip. She had spent the rest of the day planning her trip, thinking about how she would be able to help Jack in his request.

  It was time to get as much rest as possible. The next 48 hours would be gruelling. But the thought of not knowing how Pole was, kept her awake more than the trip to Sichuan. She had made up her mind about her return. There was no more room for prevarication or fear.

  She drifted into sleep but thoughts kept bringing her back to consciousness. Her father, if he had survived, would be 78 years old. What would she do if he stood there in front of her? She moved around to find a more comfortable position. She would know tomorrow.

  The limo was now gliding along the highway to the airport. A small bag and rucksack were all she had packed. She changed into a fresh pair of jeans, chose a white t-shirt, a dark blue leather jacket and kept her designer trainers.

  Licot was already at the airport when she arrived. He handed over her ticket and her passport with a temporary Chinese visa. It was good for 30 days and she didn’t intend to spend more than two days on the mainland.

  “Who are we flying with?”

  “First leg of the journey, Cathay Pacific … then an internal flight, with Air China.”

  “How about the transfer between the international and local terminals at Shanghai?” Nancy was reading the details of the flight.

  “Not really a problem … you’re not arriving at Shanghai International. It’s considered an internal flight.”

  Nancy nodded. They started queuing for the check in. The line of people waiting for passport control was short. Nancy followed Licot, her heart banging against her rib cage. In a few moments she would be one step closer to setting foot back on Chinese ground.

  Licot turned back and smiled. His relaxed manner gave her confidence.

  The first part of the flight very much resembled any other international flight Nancy had taken. She was prepared for a staggering difference when it came to the internal flight, but the Air China Airbus was comfortably kitted out. Licot had chosen business class. He was travelling with a wealthy client and that choice made sense. There were very few women on the flight, and most of the male passengers were sporting the requisite dark suit and white shirt.

  Nancy had picked up a non-contentious book to read during the flight but she couldn’t focus on the pages. She was only a few hours away from the place where she’d been born so many years ago. Glimpses of her grandfather’s garden kept coming back. The colour of the flowers, the glitter of the water in the pond … and the distinct smell of Sichuan pepper trees.

  Nancy unclipped her seat belt, stood up and made her way to the bathroom. She didn’t want to remember the past just yet. She splashed some water on her face gently … Take it one step at a time, she murmured.

  “When we disembark, we’ll take a taxi to a little restaurant …” Licot announced as the plane was prepared for landing.

  Nancy nodded. The seat belt sign came on. She was not a nervous flier but this time she clutched the armrests with both hands.

  The photos she had kept of her childhood sprang before her eyes, tearing her between anger and hope.

  The gentle bump of the aircraft told her they had landed. The plane taxied for a few hundred yards and came to a stop.

  Passengers were standing up. She slid into her leather jacket, making herself ready to step into a country she should have called hers.

  * * *

  The ICU room looked disturbingly familiar. Pole had spent a little too much time on the ward for his liking in recent days. He approached the bed on which Natalie Price was lying. Despite the protests of the nurse, he had fitted her with a set of handcuffs. One around her wrist the other locked over the metal frame of the bed.

  “This is not a prison.”

  “Perhaps not, but one of my officers is having his neck sewn back together because of what this woman did. I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.”

  This did the trick. The young man retreated into the corridor without a word.

  Pole had spoken to the specialist who carried out Natalie’s brain scan. It was miraculous that she had no brain damage, or even a broken bone, despite the force of the crash. The doctor had allowed Pole to spend just a few minutes with her. She had been drifting in and out of sleep, but the medication the paramedics had given her was slowly wearing off.

  Pole took a chair and sat down next to her bed.

  Her eyelids fluttered a few times. She was awake. Her restr
ained hand had moved a few times. Natalie knew she was in handcuffs.

  “If you can hear me, listen carefully, Natalie.’ Pole bend forward a little to deliver his message. “I have enough evidence to link you to the intimidation of Cora Wong on the Regents Canal seven days ago, the attempted murder of Ollie Wilson four days ago and, of course, today’s attempt which resulted in three of my officers being hurt, one of them now in a critical condition. This is not only going to send you to jail for a very long time, it is also going to piss off your Russian handlers. And, as you know, they are not the sort of people who tolerate failure.”

  Natalie’s face had changed from relaxed to frozen.

  “The Russian or Bratva is not a forgiving gang, and you just failed them not once, but twice. I doubt you will complete your prison term, or that you will even live to come to trial.”

  Natalie opened her eyes wide. The hatred in them had changed their colour to the harshest of blues.

  “I’m not talking, if that is what you have in mind.” Her speech was a little slurred, but she was fully conscious.

  “You’ve not been listening …” Pole moved closer to the bed, ignoring the venom in her tone. “I don’t need you to own up to what you’ve done. I have plenty of evidence to send you to jail for a very, very long time. What I am prepared to do, however, is to offer you a deal.”

  “I don’t need a deal. I need a lawyer.”

  “I’ll get you a lawyer, if you like, but once I make the call there will be no turning back.” Pole’s voice kept an eerie calm. “At the moment you’ve just been brought into ICU, looking all but dead. The fact that you have escaped unscathed is almost a miracle.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “But if I get you onto the witness protection programme, I’ll make sure you vanish today. You will become witness X. You’ll be given a new identity, and can even move country, if that is what you want. Natalie Price will have died of her injuries after a terrible motorbike crash.”

  Silence fell in the room. Pole didn’t move. His eyes rested lightly on her face. Fear had crept slowly into her expression.

  “I know you do drugs, a lot of it. … Cocaine and Heroin are an expensive habit that you can get rid of. It’s now or never, Natalie.” Pole moved his head slightly to look at his watch. “I’m going to get a coffee and when I come back, you can give me your answer.” He stood up in a slow and deliberate motion.

  “Sod off.” Natalie turned her head towards the wall.

  * * *

  “They’ve just left for Chengdu.” Jack found a seat in the first floor of the internet kiosk at Hong Kong airport.

  Harris should have been sound asleep at 1.30am London time, but he had been expecting Jack’s call.

  “How long have you got?”

  “Till tomorrow night … but since there is no non-stop flight leaving for New York after the deadline expires, I’ll be on the 3.40pm American Airlines flight the following day.”

  “Unless Hunter shoves you onto a military plane that just happens to be flying by.”

  “That’s always a possibility, but I guess he would’ve done it by now if he had been that pissed off. He is interested in the intel, he just can’t tell me that yet.”

  “On that subject.” Harris was moving around the room. Jack imagined him brewing himself yet another cup of tea … the remedy for all ills, according to his British friend. “I was wondering which one of us was going to broach the subject first, but I suppose it will be me this time.”

  “You mean, why are the US and the UK governments tiptoeing so much around Turner father and son?”

  “Yep … the word at MI6 is that a co-operation agreement between China and some other countries is due to be signed in the next few days.”

  “Hunter hasn’t confirmed the date, but he is more prickly than usual … if that is at all possible.”

  “DCI Pole is doing pretty well in building a case against Viro-Tech and Turner Junior. It would be a shame if he had to be told not to proceed.”

  “Turner Senior has been backed up by some top-level politicians and senior business people in the US.”

  “Turner Junior doesn’t seem to be as formidable as Turner Senior in the UK, but it doesn’t mean daddy won’t interfere.”

  “Pole has got his hands on the USB key that we presume was concealed by Ollie Wilson …”

  Jack interrupted his friend. “Randy has also stored data that should help to confirm that what they were developing could have lethal implications.”

  “Wilson’s USB key has been through a fire though. There seemed to be very little left on the device … apart from a line of code … that’s it.”

  “How well equipped is Scotland Yard to retrieve that sort of information?”

  “You mean they’re not the FBI … but you might be surprised how good at it they are.”

  Jack shook his head as though Harris could see him. “I didn’t mean it that way. But some additional help with complex technology could be a bonus.”

  “If there is something there … they’ll find it.”

  “But could you get me the line of code?”

  “Possibly … what do you have in mind?”

  “What if it is not a piece of code?”

  * * *

  A row of yellow and black taxis had formed along the taxi stand outside Chengdu airport. Nancy looked around at the crowd that seemed to be moving as one. People speaking loudly on their phones, jostling for position wherever they went or bumping into one another without noticing.

  Licot gently took her arm and guided her towards one of the cabs. The driver took a quick look at his passengers, sizing them up. Chengdu was a large city, but not one that many foreign tourists visited.

  Professor Licot gave instructions in Chinese and the man was surprised to understand what he was saying straight away.

  Nancy’s sense of discomfort had just risen a notch. She hadn’t understood any of it, and would certainly not have been able to converse with the driver. A lump lodged itself in her throat. If her father were still alive, she would have to speak to him in English, or perhaps French, if he still remembered how.

  The car turned abruptly into traffic and joined the throng of other vehicles leaving the airport. They soon came to a flyover that arched towards the East and rose in the air to overlook the suburbs of Chengdu. Endless rows of mid-height buildings, perhaps 12 or 14 storeys tall, kept coming like well-arranged dominoes. The uniformity of construction was staggering, the same rectangular shapes, pinkish-grey stone and small white-painted balconies. Though the city was leafier than she had imagined it would be.

  The car veered right at one of the side exit roads, driving straight towards the lower ground. It turned right again to join another motorway. This time the surroundings looked more industrial, large buildings with sprawling car parks and rows of cars awaiting their drivers’ journey home.

  Licot said nothing. Nancy also felt no need to talk. The re-acquaintance with her own country was more bemusement than shock.

  The driver asked a question. Licot replied. Again, he didn’t offer to translate. She didn’t ask him to.

  The vehicle slowed down as they were about to cross a bridge and Nancy edged her body towards the window to take a glance at the river. She tried to remember whether her grandfather’s house had even been close to one. The area they were moving through now was a mix of residential, small industrial … shops had started to appear. More people were going about their business. It could have been a typical UK High Street … A few restaurants, food stores, electrical goods shops and the entrance to a building that looked like a covered market.

  The car slowed to a standstill, took a quick U-turn and stopped in front of a tea house. Licot paid and thanked the driver. Nancy got out of the cab. They both waited for a moment before they spoke.

  “Where are we?” N
ancy had tried to memorise the journey, but she doubted she would find her way back even if she tried.

  “It’s a residential area, not very well off and in which we are going to stick out like a sore thumb if we don’t hurry.”

  They walked through a few backstreets. Nancy felt helpless for a moment,. She tried to shake herself out of it by concentrating on her surroundings. It was not too late to go back.

  Licot got out his mobile and made a call.

  Within a few minutes a car appeared, an old battered Citroen. The driver didn’t get out. The journey started again towards an area that looked poorer and older. The car finally stopped in front of a squalid building that resembled a factory and, to Nancy’s amazement, she recognised a word on the sign above the entrance – ‘noodle’. She closed her eyes, making an effort to recall its Chinese pronunciation.

  Miantiao …

  Licot smiled at her. “That’s right. It’s a noodle factory.”

  They walked along the lane that led round to the back of the building towards a smaller construction that looked like a canteen.

  The place was empty as they entered. Licot moved confidently towards a smaller room at the back. Nancy took her time, cautious and yet intrigued by the smell of the food that pervaded the place.

  There were three cups of tea arranged on the small table at the centre of the room. They were expected.

  Nancy felt weak and she leaned with one hand against the wall. Licot didn’t seem to notice. He looked at his watch, took his mobile out of his inner jacket pocket and called. “Women daole,” Licot said in Chinese.

  They had arrived and the person meeting them now knew.

  Nancy made an effort to walk to the table, every step felt as though she was walking through deep sand.

  The back door opened and someone walked in, stopping after a few steps.

  Nancy drew her hand to her mouth … impossible.

  * * *

  “The nurse told me you could drink a little tea.” Pole placed a cup on the bedside table.

  “I’m not changing my mind.”