A Killing Air

by Nigel Price

  It wasn’t long before the sign for the airport hovered on a gantry in the fug above the road. The bus duly turned onto the slip road and a short while later cruised up the long curving avenue leading to International Departures. It pulled up beside the kerb and Harry’s minders climbed out and stretched. One of them reached into the bus and started to fix handcuffs to Harry’s wrists. Instinctively Harry flinched away from them. Perhaps this was his moment, a last opportunity. If he could break away from them and sprint. Or perhaps slam the door shut now they were all outside, hurl the driver from his door and take over the vehicle …

  A pistol appeared in his face, an inch away. From the butt end of it, a sallow face observed him blankly, noting the struggle in Harry’s mind. The face shook slowly from side to side. Don’t try it. Not worth it.

  Harry submitted to the handcuffs, looking down at them with mounting despair. He knew the old advice all too well. If you are going to escape, the best time to do it is as soon after capture as possible. The longer you are a prisoner, the less your chances of escape. The handcuffs illustrated the truth of that.

  He was helped out of the bus by a muscular tug on his arm that sent him staggering onto the pavement. A porter appeared with a trolley hoping for work. The officials shooed him away.

  They crossed over one lane, waited in front of another as taxis and other cars shimmied up to the drop-off zone, then when the way was clear, marched across and entered the terminal building. They carved a way through the crowds, people looking at them inquisitively, noting Harry’s cuffs, and moving out of the way as if he was an unexploded bomb.

  At the doorway leading into the secure check-in area, Harry’s minders waved aside the puzzled airport security guards busily inspecting a row of passport-clutching passengers. Past the luggage x-ray machines, and over towards one of the lines of check-in counters. Ignoring the queue, they barged to the front, shoving aside the startled passenger who was halfway through the procedure. The man started to protest, saw the officials, noted the still-drawn pistol, the handcuffs, and pulled back, leaving the counter free.

  There was an exchange with the check-in clerk. Everything had already been prepared. A boarding pass was handed over and out of nowhere, Harry’s conference luggage materialised. Looking at the familiar suitcase and other bags, Harry could hardly believe how much had happened since he had deposited them with the concierge. He could see that the locks to all of them had been forced and then crudely refastened with tape. The contents would have been ransacked, his laptop hacked, copied, screened, all of his personal files, photos, everything pored over and fingered by voyeurs.

  With the check-in completed, Harry was marched through security with only a cursory check of his pockets. He had no hand luggage. It had all been checked in as hold baggage. His passport was fished out of his jacket pocket at passport control, the visa stamped. Harry looked at the bold squiggle whizzed across it by hand, marking it as used. It seemed it would be the last one he would ever have.

  Instead of going to the departure lounge with its Duty Free shops and all the rest of the pre-flight paraphernalia, Harry was taken through a key-coded door into an office area. Airport workers and security staff glanced at him as he was whisked along a corridor. The irony was not lost on him that, in the normal run of things, he would have been conducting a crisis-planning exercise in these very offices in the near future. He was to have conducted a recce, gone away to do the planning and exercise writing, then returned at a mutually agreed date to conduct the three-day exercise.

  He already had a good idea how he wanted to run it. At his first meeting with the Head of Security – a cold, stone-faced man called Mr Fangzhuo – they had identified the personnel who would act as controllers, assisting Harry in the running of exercise control. They would man a bank of telephones and computer terminals, feeding in events to which airport staff would have to react, Harry noting their procedures for the debrief at the end. There would be recommendations, and Harry had been looking forward to it. Fangzhuo himself had only been persuaded with difficulty to award Harry the contract. Harry reckoned that if Fangzhuo saw him now, he would take pleasure in the humbling. He and Harry had not warmed to one another.

  He was shown into a small square room. No windows. Just a table, several chairs round the walls, and neon strip lights overhead. Stark and soulless.

  “Sit.”

  Harry sat.

  “Wait.”

  There was nothing else he could do. The guards exited, leaving him alone. However, there was a panel of frosted glass in the door, and on the other side he could make out the shapes of at least two of his minders, taking post on either side of the door. Escape would be impossible. He had left it too long. They were talking in low voices. Harry couldn’t catch a word of it. He had seen that there were two hours before his flight would be called for boarding. He was starving. When had he last eaten, and what? At the thought of it, his stomach rumbled. He suspected he would have to wait until on board the plane before he would be given food.

  He tested the handcuffs. Secure. There was going to be no getting out of them. Not without the key. He started to reproach himself for not having made his move in the minibus. But how? It would simply have resulted in him being clubbed unconscious and that would have been an end to it. What was this though? This was an end. Shut in a windowless room, the only exit door guarded, his wrists handcuffed. He was screwed.

  His shoulders sagged and his head slumped forward. He became aware of deep exhaustion. He felt he could sleep for a month. Perhaps he would.

  The thought of that started him awake with a jolt. How could he even contemplate sleep when Lisa was somewhere far away and terrified? He couldn’t leave her stuck in this shit of a place.

  From the corridor he heard footsteps. People were coming. They stopped just outside, a small gaggle of them talking loudly. Harry caught the odd word. Hope that something might be about to happen to save him was dashed. They were discussing the handover procedure. The paperwork. His heart sank.

  The door opened and two of his minders came in.

  “The Head of Security will take over now,” one of them said in a thick accent. About as good as Harry’s Mandarin.

  Great, Harry thought. Mr Fangzhou will enjoy his gloat after all. What a terrific end to his career in China. In all probability Brannigan would pick up the contract. Then the whole industry would know of Harry’s expulsion. It was going to cost him his job after all. He smiled. At least he wouldn’t have to put up with any more job offers from Brannigan’s revolting boss, Alderton.

  The door opened and the Head of Security came in. He signed a form presented to him by Harry’s guards. They double checked it, grunted, and left, their task complete. Harry was now someone else’s responsibility. They could bugger off.

  “What on earth have you got yourself into, Harry?”

  Harry stared, confused. “David? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m the interim Head of Security. I took over from Fangzhou yesterday. He’s been fired.” Lin tried to look severe. It wasn’t an expression that sat easily on his round genial face. “He was taking bribes. Some bad dude. That’s what I couldn’t tell you on the phone. They whizzed me up from Shanghai as stand-in.”

  David Lin pulled up one of the other chairs and sat down opposite Harry. “You’re probably hungry. Why don’t I call for something to eat and then you can tell me what’s going down?”

  Thirty Six

  Shanghai David. As Harry watched him go to a phone and order food, he felt the first stirring of hope. Lin rattled off a small order, replaced the receiver then took his seat again opposite his prisoner. He looked at Harry’s cuffs.

  “If I remove the iron, do you give me your word not to punch my lights or do anything chancy?”

  Harry pulled a face as if he was weighing it up. Lin considered for a moment, then took the key the immigration officials had handed him together with the paperwork, undid the cuffs and tossed them onto the table.
Harry rubbed his wrists.

  “Please don’t hit me,” Lin said, seeing Harry’s eyes flick to the discarded cuffs. “I did that as your friend. Besides, you’d miss the chow I’ve just ordered.”

  Harry smiled. David Lin. The man who had believed in him when no one else had, liking his no-nonsense pitch and awarding him the business. The contract had been terrific for Delaney’s. As Harry had suspected, existing procedures at Pudong had been inadequate. He had covered it, saving his new friend’s career and helping put structures in place while giving Lin the credit. The exercise had opened doors throughout China, notably at Beijing’s airport with the hard-nosed Mr Fangzhou. He could hardly reward David’s friendship with a punch in the face, however strong the motivation. Besides, he knew he wouldn’t make it out of the airport secure area.

  “Suppose you tell me what’s going on,” Lin said.

  There was a knock on the door and a woman entered carrying a tray of food. She set it down on the table. There was a pot of jasmine tea with two cups, and bowls of rice and fish and eggs. When she had gone, David poured the tea and handed one of the cups to Harry.

  “Dig in,” he said, passing him a bowl. Harry was starving. He took up the chopsticks and began shovelling the food into his mouth while Lin watched and sipped his tea. For a while they were silent, Harry satisfying his hunger. When he finished one bowl, Lin passed him another. “Fish,” he said.

  “What about you? Aren’t you eating?” Harry asked, mouth full.

  Lin shook his head. “This canteen garbage? You’ve got to be kidding me, hombre.”

  Harry grinned as he worked through the contents of the second bowl. When he had finished that he put it on the table, wiped his mouth and drank some tea. “Where the hell to begin?”

  David Lin shrugged. “We’ve got plenty of time. All flights have just been cancelled because of the visibility.”

  Harry’s ears pricked up. “Cancelled or delayed? How long for?”

  “Cancelled. Indefinitely. This muck’s here to stay. We can’t bring anything in or out. It’s too risky. The delegates for the National Congress are all in town, so there’s no pressure from the authorities to keep the airport open. In fact, for security reasons they’re quite happy for us to shut down.”

  Again Harry felt a surge of hope. “David, you’ve got to let me go.”

  Lin shook his head. “You know I can’t do that, Harry. It’s not just my job I’d lose. They’d probably lock me up as well. With the Congress starting, everyone’s on edge. More so than usual.”

  “After the Congress it’ll be too late.”

  “How so?”

  “Ryder Chau.”

  Lin pulled a face. “What’s this got to do with that awful man?”

  “If he attains supreme power …”

  “According to the pundits he’s almost at home base,” Lin said.

  “Then China’s in for a rough ride. And if China is, so is the whole Asia-Pacific.”

  Lin’s face clouded over. “You’d better tell me your story, Harry. From the top.”

  So Harry did, starting with his stroll one sleepless night, to the mugging and suicide, and on from there. Lin sat back and listened, saying nothing. When Harry had finished, his friend gaped at him.

  “Bloody hell, Harry. You couldn’t have crossed a more dangerous person if you had really, really tried. You’ve made an enemy of the man who is aiming to be head honcho. And if there’s a nastier piece of work in this country, I’m …” For once he ran out of B-movie clichés.

  “Then you’ve got to let me go, David,” Harry urged. “I can bring him down.” He leaned forward, staring hard at his friend. “And I’ve got to get Lisa out of there. She’s done nothing to deserve whatever those murderers are going to do to her.”

  “Why don’t you believe the explanation of the crèche? It’s plausible.”

  “No it isn’t,” Harry said. “There wasn’t any fire. Probably no crèche even. I saw the dates on the stones. The children didn’t go in one great conflagration. It took them half a year to die. If there had been any sort of fire, it must have burned for several months, with the children being fed into it week after week. Whatever killed them, it wasn’t a fire. That lie’s an insult to their memory. It’s not surprising Mrs Yan was driven mad with grief.”

  “The poor woman.”

  “I saw her eyes,” Harry said. “She was at the end of her endurance. But she wasn’t half as mad as I am now.”

  Lin got up and paced the small room. “You know I can’t let you go.” He spoke as much to himself as to his prisoner. “It would cause all sorts of trouble.”

  Harry sympathised. He had wedged his friend between the devil and the deep blue sea. Perhaps it was time for a different tack. “What about China, David?”

  “What about it?”

  “Look what’s happening in the East China Sea. Your navy’s playing a dangerous game, building bases on coral reefs to extend Chinese reach. And with the Japanese around the Diaoyu Islands. You both think you own them. Taiwan’s in there too with claims of its own. Both of them have American support. Just imagine how that could play out with a man like Ryder Chau at the helm? And he might be, if he’s ratified as President, Chairman of the central military commission, paramount leader, whatever. If he acts like this now with his local police thugs, just think how he’ll behave when he controls all the organs of government?”

  He could see that he was getting through. Lin was struggling.

  “I was here a few months ago when there was a demo outside the Japanese Embassy.”

  “I remember it,” Lin said. “It was on the national news.”

  “I saw how the whole thing was orchestrated, David. The banners were all printed. The police corralled everyone. There were cheerleaders to get the chanting right, peaking just outside the embassy itself where the world’s press could record it. The moment the marchers passed by, they were handed bottles of water and dispersed. It was all so easy.”

  Lin smiled. “I’m afraid that’s the way things are here. You know that.”

  “Yes I do. And with Ryder in charge, think how much more of that can be expected. It is too easy. And it’s not a risk worth taking. I can stop him.”

  There was a long silence as Harry let his words sink in. He knew they were at a tipping point. Him and his friend. Perhaps China too.

  David Lin looked as if he was carrying the weight of the world. “My friend, if …just if you were to get away from here, what could you possibly do?”

  Like the first tiny flame in the forest hut, Harry felt the same frail hope in his chest. He fought it down lest it be too good to be true. “I would rescue Lisa first of all.”

  “And then?”

  “I’d find out what killed those children. There’s a link with the Hideyoshi-maru. I know it. The stuff he was bringing into the country.”

  “Why?”

  “I just feel it in my bones,” Harry answered. “The reaction of the villagers. They’d been bribed or terrorised and had to kill Herbert Zhu rather than allow us to find out the truth. Then the way they shied away from the site Chau had built nearby as if it was jinxed. Then Chau’s reaction when I mentioned the ship by name. The way he and Miller brushed it aside. They’re hiding something.”

  “And you think it could bring down Chau?”

  Harry shrugged. “It might. But I won’t know unless I can get out of here and find out.”

  Lin thought for a moment. “Miller told you that in exchange for Chinese goods, they imported pharmaceutical products from Japan?”

  “Yes. Maybe other stuff too.”

  “Then you’ll need to get hold of the manifest from the consignment before the children started dying. Do you remember the dates?”

  “Roughly. Lisa will remember better than me. She had longer to check them. Another reason I need to get to her.”

  “If you’re right and something imported by Chau did kill those children, he would have tried to buy the parents’ silence w
ith cash,” Lin said. “That’s what usually happens.”

  “You make it sound routine.”

  “I’m afraid it is, pretty much. There was an episode with contaminated baby milk some years ago. First they tried to pay the parents to shut them up, then threaten them. Sometimes the scandal gets so big the authorities can’t contain it. So they do a hundred and eighty degree turn and sacrifice scapegoats. Perhaps your Mrs Yan couldn’t be bought. She travelled to Beijing to find the only person she thought might listen to her. Lisa’s boss Hans. Perhaps she hoped he’d expose it.”

  “We need to find out what it was.”

  “If the deaths were due to something imported from Japan,” Lin said, “it would be especially damaging for Chau’s reputation. I don’t want to see him running China for all the reasons you say, but no one cares what I think. I’m just a minor functionary in airport security.”

  “Perhaps,” Harry replied. “But right now you’re the man who can let me go. And I can stop him.”

  “I wouldn’t shed any tears,” Lin said. “And he has rivals in the Politburo who wouldn’t either.”

  “So you’ll let me go?” Harry asked, ready to get up and walk out of the room there and then.

  “No. I can’t,” Lin replied.

  “What do you mean? I thought you just said …”

  “But what I can do is guard you very badly.” He tried to smile, though he looked more terrified than amused. “Very badly indeed.”