BLOOD DRAGON

by Freddie P Peters

  And it was Harris’s turn to smile. Jack could hear it in his voice. “Let’s say that the person she’s going to meet in China is of interest to us, and I hope that they will get on with each other.”

  “A contact in mainland China. I see the attraction.” Jack moved to the window of the room in the US consulate. It looked onto the inner courtyard of the building, protected from any eavesdropping.

  “Back to Turner though. Will Scotland Yard be prepared to slow down?”

  “The Superintendent who is Pole’s superior is a political animal. If he’s told by the Home Office to stand down his people, he will.”

  “And Pole?”

  “He knows how to be patient when he knows he will get what he wants … and he does want to nab Turner very badly.”

  “Sounds hopeful … Shame I still have Hunter on my back. I only have a little less than twenty-four hours.”

  “Even if Ms Wu comes back with some good data on Viro-Tech?”

  “That’s what I’m counting on … my ticket to Washington is a flexible one.”

  * * *

  Marsh had left a message for Pole.

  He didn’t need to go back to his office. Pole went straight to the top floor, to his boss’s corner office.

  “He is in a foul mood,” warned his PA.

  “That’s OK Denise, so am I.” Pole hadn’t bothered to straighten his tie. At least it was his casual clothes that had been ruined by the early morning bike accident.

  “Sir …” Pole walked over to Marsh’s desk, pulled out a chair and sat down.

  “Pole …” Marsh spread his fingers across his desk. He seemed to have prepared for the conversation with Pole, and yet now was hesitating. “I’m not going to beat around the bush about this one … you’ve got to lay off Turner Junior.”

  Pole clenched his jaw and cast a dark eye towards Marsh. “We’re tantalisingly close, Sir.”

  “I know you are. I’ve read your report … but … I …” Marsh pursed his lips. “I’ve been leaned on.”

  “May I ask by whom?”

  Marsh glared back at Pole. “You may ask, and I may not answer.”

  “There are only a few people who could do that … MOD, SIS … Home Office?”

  Marsh shuffled his collection of pens around on his desk. “That’s right, one of those.”

  “Is it permanent?”

  “I have a feeling there is deal that needs to be concluded … but it could take some time.”

  Pole reconsidered. “That’s alright, Sir. It’ll give me time to polish up the evidence my team is assembling on the gentleman.”

  Marsh perked up. “You’ve got more?”

  “The woman we were chasing and arrested has agreed to testify, and she’s now being moved into the witness protection programme. She has given us conclusive evidence in the form of recordings incriminating Turner Junior. We will establish incontrovertibly that it is his voice and the recordings haven’t been tampered with.”

  “Excellent.” Marsh straightened up in his chair. There was still hope for a high-profile success.

  “We’ve also looked into the USB key retrieved from Ollie Wilson’s flat. My team has come up with an idea about its content.”

  “I thought it was a line of code.”

  “They think it may be a password.” Thanking MI6 remained a mental exercise.

  “So, when the time comes, we’ll be ready to pounce.” Marsh could not hide his glee.

  “The minute Turner Junior loses his … protected asset status.”

  “That’ll make the wait more bearable. In the meantime, I presume we need to make Turner feel secure?”

  Pole nodded, surprised.

  “So what … I too was a copper once.” Marsh was pleased with the effect.

  “Of course, Sir … and talking about strategy. Have you spoken to Ferguson?”

  “I have indeed. He could see my point, although he still argued that the burner phone could have been used by someone from the Met.”

  “He needs to get on with finding out who bought the phone rather than trying to make his argument stick.” Pole felt a pang of sympathy for Ferguson. His instinct was right although perhaps now slightly misplaced.

  “Any suggestions?” Marsh leaned forward.

  “I’ve asked my DS, Andy Todd, to map all the places which may be selling burner phones illegally around the area of interest, and then check with the CCTV coverage. If this woman went into one of those shops, we’ll have it on record.”

  “Leave the rest to me.”

  Pole nodded his approval.

  “One final request Sir.”

  Marsh looked pleased and ready to accept anything Pole was about to ask.

  “I’ll be flying to Hong Kong tonight.”

  “You mean …?” Marsh looked concerned.

  “Yes … Ms Wu is in trouble I fear, and she needs my help.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The name of the underground station was written on a piece of paper. Licot had frowned at the idea of letting Nancy go on her own, but she had assured him she would be fine.

  She only needed to change trains once, and Mingmei would wait for her at the intersection of the two lines.

  In the sea of faces, Nancy feared she might struggle to recognise her sister. She had found the underground station easily, though. Chengdu was built along straight roads that seemed to stretch endlessly, and met other roads at neat square junctions. Tall buildings and skyscrapers lined the streets, block after block. Nancy was reminded that China was a country of 1.4 billion inhabitants. Space was at a premium in big cities.

  Other passengers on the underground had stared at her, but the clothes she had chosen and the way she had arranged her hair, avoided their curiosity becoming unwanted attention.

  Nancy slowed her pace and spotted the benches that lay at regular intervals along the large corridors. She was about to choose one to sit down on and wait, when a hand squeezed her shoulder.

  Mingmei had changed into dark trousers, a dark rollneck sweater and an unzipped biker jacket. Her smile squeezed once more Nancy’s heart.

  “You found it okay?”

  “Easy … just two lines to deal with.”

  “Not like Hong Kong or Shanghai …” She nudged Nancy forward. “We’ve got to move quickly. People are leaving work and this will be the ideal time to try and get into the offices.”

  They emerged from Century City station after a fifteen-minute tube ride. The underground steps came out onto a concourse in front of a lake that glittered in the glow of artificial lights. The semi-circular construction at the other side of the lake startled Nancy. It was a massive building, almost resembling a dam. Its white concave façade and slanted roof were intended to make a powerful statement … it was modern … it was imposing.

  Nancy stopped for a moment and Mingmei indulged her.

  “It’s a mix of offices, tech labs and shops … very fancy.”

  “But that can’t be where the pharmaceutical companies operate?”

  “No, science city is outside Chengdu. It’s a gated park, very well protected.”

  “What about here?”

  “CCTV cameras everywhere, security teams doing the rounds … unless you know how to avoid them. Follow me.”

  They left the lake and its luxurious surroundings, moving round the back of the semi-circle. Tall towers were spaced at regular intervals on the opposite side of the crescent, constructions of metal and concrete.

  Mingmei followed closely the line of small shrubs that had been growing along the opposite side of the crescent, designed to hide the maintenance exits. She took a couple of blue cleaners’ overalls, with a logo on their backs, out of her rucksack.

  “They’re for the maintenance staff.” She also handed Nancy a cap to put on her head. “This
way.”

  An army of people were at work, moving dustbins, shifting large crates containing linen, and supplies.

  One of the vans has been left unattended for a moment. Mingmei takes a pile of towels. She tells Nancy to do the same and they march towards the back doors of the building. They need a badge to enter but the flow of staff means that the door is left open for most of the time.

  Nancy walks in following her sister. They go to the place where the towels are kept. The Holiday Inn Century City accommodates hundreds of tourists and businesspeople every day. They enter one of the service lifts. No one notices them. They are on their way to the ninth floor.

  Mingmei speaks to Nancy. Only one word when needed. Nancy replies with a nod.

  A woman joins the lift at the fifth floor. She eyes the two women a little too long for comfort but exits on floor seven.

  Floor nine is quiet. Mingmei has managed to pick up a bucket and mop, and Nancy a cleaning cloth.

  They look around. A security guard is stationed at the end of the corridor and he’s checking his emails. He hasn’t yet noticed them.

  “We haven’t got badges,” Nancy murmurs.

  Mingmei shakes her head. She’s about to walk to the guard to let him know they have been summoned by someone inside the lab to clear up a mess in the kitchen, when the lift doors ping open again.

  A woman walks out. She’s not a member of staff. She is carrying a heavy bag and, ignoring the two women, walks straight to the security guards. The man’s face lights up. He has taken the bag and starts removing boxes from it. The food smells delicious, and by the time Mingmei and Nancy have reached his desk, he has already opened one of the boxes and prepared his chopsticks.

  “We’ve been told to come up to clean a mess someone made in the kitchen.”

  The man barely looks at them, leans sideways and presses a button.

  The door opens … they are in.

  “How did you know?” Nancy asked when they are out of earshot.

  “At this time of the night this is what people all over the country are doing … most of the lab staff have gone home so it’s time for dinner.”

  The offices are brand new. Nancy can smell that the rugs have been laid recently and the paint on the walls is fresh. There are three doors down the corridor that resemble air locks. Mingmei notices that one of the cleaners is finishing cleaning one of the internal corridors, where the access is guarded by one of the airlocks. Mingmei repeats her story.

  There’s a spillage in one of the kitchens and they must tend to it. Nancy can’t quite follow what her sister is saying but the woman shrugs and lets them get on with their job.

  The offices are locked but there is a large central open area, in which people can work, have a chat and relax. Nancy walks over to the vending machines, presses a button and waits.

  “Good idea.”

  She orders a couple of cups of coffee, moves towards the kitchen and spills them on the floor. Mingmei takes her bucket and goes to fetch some water. Nancy fetches paper towels and drops them over the spilled liquid.

  Each office’s wall comprises a dense frosted glass panel. There are high security locks and ID pads on each of the doors. They require digital identification. It’s impossible to see inside. Nancy takes a couple of pictures with the phone Jack has given her.

  She moves towards the airlock at the far end. She can hear Mingmei wrestling with the bucket. Without a security pass she can’t get into the part of the office that holds what she’s looking for. A shadow appears on the other side of the frosted glass revolving doors. Nancy pulls back to join Mingmei near the vending machines.

  The revolving doors rotate quickly, and she is almost face-to-face with a man in a white coat, clean shaven, spectacles. He glares at her and asks a question.

  Mingmei dumps her bucket and runs to Nancy.

  She responds, bowing her head. Nancy gathers she’s trying to tell him that Nancy is dumb. The man asks something else. Mingmei gestures towards the spillage in the coffee area.

  He wants to see it. They walk over, and he looks at the mess, exasperated.

  He is about to let the matter go but then takes out his security badge and asks a question. Nancy has stepped back a little. She has spotted an old fashioned sweet dispenser stocked with retro gumballs and painted red, China’s favourite colour.

  Nancy turns around swiftly. She lifts the machine. The metal is dense and heavy. The man looks in her direction with anger. What is this idiot doing?

  Nancy slams the dispenser against the side of his head without letting go of it. The crush of bones is sickening. The man falls to his knees. She slams the machine once more against his skull. He collapses in a heap, unconscious.

  Her sister’s mouth has opened into an “o”. She can hardly believe what Nancy’s just done.

  “Let’s drag him into the ladies and tie him up. I’ll use his pass to get into the lab.”

  Mingmei shakes her head. “And I thought I needed to protect you.” She starts to unbuckle his belt and shushes Nancy away. She will deal with him.

  Nancy is in luck. The man has not locked his office door as he must have intended to return swiftly.

  The research space she’s entering into is split into two. One part contains desks, chairs and a series of computer screens and keyboards, the other part is isolated by a thick glass wall, where machines intended for testing and analysis are still running.

  There are rows of bottles containing liquid, glass cases with gloved access so that pathogens are isolated and cannot cause contamination. There are also microscopes which can be operated in isolation. Sophisticated ventilation shafts prevent the escape of germs and other lethal substances.

  Nancy takes pictures of the entire installation. She shifts her focus to the computers. Some of them have not been turned off and register routine data. The keyboard is a regular English one. She tries to scroll for more information. She recognises the description of a molecular structure. She takes more pictures.

  She has been inside for less than ten minutes. The maximum time she has decided is safe. Someone is moving outside the office. She can see the shape of a body at the second entrance to the lab. Nancy drops to the floor and starts crawling towards the exit door. She ’s still unnoticed.

  The lab door has shut behind the scientist. Nancy half stands up, opens the door and runs towards the air lock. She slams the pass over the electronic eye. And pushes the revolving door frantically.

  Mingmei is waiting for her. “He’s started to come around. Only a few minutes and he’ll start crying for help.”

  Both women take a bucket and walk out of the main air lock, looking busy. Mingmei thanks the guard and bows a few times. Nancy follows awkwardly.

  He has almost finished his dinner. As they reach the lift, he asks for something and this is one word that Nancy recognises.

  Security pass.

  Mingmei freezes. Nancy turns around and dangles the pass she has just stolen. The lift has arrived. The guard says something but they both hurry into the lift and press the button for the basement.

  “Take off your cleaning coat and cap.” Mingmei is doing this as she speaks. She dumps the uniform in her cleaning bucket. She loosens her hair. Nancy cannot help noticing how long it is. The lift arrives in the basement.

  They walk out as a number of people start to shout. Mingmei joins in and points in the opposite direction … “That way.”

  Both women leave through the exit at a measured pace. The weather has turned cold, but it is not chill air that makes Nancy shiver. It was a close shave.

  * * *

  Pole asked the stewardess to call him when the gate was about to close. He had left a message for Andy to call him back. His DS had stepped into the breach without hesitation and almost taken Pole by surprise.

  Marsh had not tried to stop him. The Super ha
d once more rearranged the set of Montblanc pens on his desk, cleared his throat and told Pole he understood the urgency.

  Ferguson might still try to stop him but there were only 10 minutes to go before the gate closed, another twenty to take off … Pole wondered whether Ferguson would try to get the plane to turn back. The evidence was a little slim and Marsh’s blessing made a difference.

  Pole’s phone rang.

  “Andy …” Pole cast an eye towards the stewardess. She looked his way and nodded. He still had a moment.

  “Gov, we’ve got a breakthrough.”

  “Shoot.”

  “The line of code or rather what we thought might be a code or a password is something entirely different … it’s a flattened line of messenger RNA.”

  Pole’s mind went blank. “Enlighten me please. I know what DNA is … obviously. It’s the long molecule that contains the biological instructions that makes a living thing unique …”

  “Spot on, Guv … RNA is sort of the same. It also plays an essential role in gene expression but it’s not as powerful as DNA.”

  “Right …”

  “The point is that it’s the genetic base for viruses … viruses are not alive as such. But they can replicate and that’s why they make a person ill. The way they replicate is encoded into their RNA.”

  “Now I follow … What gave you the idea?”

  “It’s not mine, it’s Mandy’s.” Andy was saying something to someone else in the office. Pole could picture him moving from one screen to another, gathering his data. “She suggested viewing the string of numbers and letters in 3D … and there it was, a single strand helix, with an additional formula that seem to target a part of this RNA with something called LNPs … I mean Lipid Nanoparticules … they are like small droplets of fat in which the messenger RNA is packaged. ”

  “So, we now have a bit of this RNA, from which particular virus?”

  “We haven’t discovered that yet. We need access to a proper biotech lab … so I called Yvonne.”

  “Good man … any idea why the additional formula linked to LNPs though.”

  “From what we can gather it teaches the immune system to respond to an invasion and stops the virus’ process of replication.”