The van slowed as they approached the grounds of the old hospital. Ironic, Caine thought. A building devoted to healing now serves as a black jail for the city’s lost and disenfranchised. Peering out from under the blanket, Caine looked through the front windshield. He saw the gray, desolate structure looming ahead of them.
The other black guard was still bound and gagged back at the apartment. After confirming the location where Sean was being held, Mole Face had led them to the van. He and his partner had left it parked outside the hutong the night before.
A quick search of the vehicle revealed the tools of the black guard's trade: some plastic zip cuffs, a mangy black hood, and the revolver, all stashed in the glove compartment.
The serial numbers on the gun’s frame were filed off. Caine guessed the weapon was stolen from a police officer, or confiscated from a crime scene. The People’s Republic of China enforced some of the strictest gun control laws in the world. It was unlikely the man could have legally purchased the firearm.
A rapid-fire series of doubts began to flash through his mind. What if the other guard escaped, or was discovered back at the apartment? What if Mole Face betrayed them to the guards? What if there was a signal, some code or passphrase he didn’t know about?
And Jia. What about her?
Every fiber of his mind screamed that bringing her on this mission was foolish. A civilian, a humanitarian, a woman he barely knew … but the simple truth was, he needed her, at least for now. His Chinese was not good enough to monitor Mole Face. He needed someone to alert him if the man tried to warn the guards at the gate.
You’re doing what you always do, he thought. You're putting her in harm’s way and justifying it to yourself.
He took a deep breath and clamped down on the surge of adrenaline-induced nerves. Enough, he thought. There were a million things that could go wrong, but it was too late for doubt. They were approaching the gate. Once they were through, there was no turning back.
“Jia,” Caine said. “I need you to translate. Tell him you’ll be listening. If we’re not through this gate in fifteen seconds, I start shooting. Whatever happens to us, he dies first.”
“Tom, I—”
“Tell him!”
Jia hesitated, then rattled off the words in Chinese to Mole Face. A tremor ran through the man’s body. He nodded and answered back.
“He understands,” Jia said.
“All right. Follow my lead. If anything goes wrong, take cover back here as fast as you can.”
Jia looped her hands through a set of the guard’s plastic cuffs and brought the tab to her teeth. She pulled them tight, but left just enough slack to allow her to slip free if needed. Then she slumped down in the seat and let her body go limp. She appeared unconscious.
Caine ducked under the blanket and lay still on the floor. He kept the barrel of the revolver pressed firmly into the back of the driver’s seat.
The van slowed to a stop. Caine was engulfed in the darkness under the blanket. He could hear a tapping sound as the guard rapped on the window with his baton. Mole Face rolled the window rolled down. The men spoke to each other in rapid Chinese.
Caine had no idea what they were saying, but his muscles tensed. Mole Face’s voice cracked. The man sounded nervous. He began to stutter. Caine pressed the pistol forward deeper into the seat.
"Lai ba, tingshi langfei wo de shijian!" Mole Face spat out.
The guard laughed. “Crazy lanzui … Rang zhege piaoliang de nuhai lai chull.”
Caine heard the metal clank of the gate opening. The van lurched and began to crawl forward. He remained still, his senses on fire. His fingers flexed, grasping the butt of the pistol tighter.
He heard Jia’s voice. “These men are disgusting pigs. But we’re past the gate, heading into the garage. I don’t see anyone …”
Caine flipped up the blanket and sat up. Peering out the front windshield, he watched as they pulled into a dark, cavernous garage. A few other vans and service vehicles were parked in random spots throughout the space. Puddles of spilled engine oil stained the concrete floor. They shimmered a reddish-black in the dim light, like crusts of dried blood over a wound.
The van jerked to a stop.
“There’s one guard, in uniform,” Jia whispered. “I see him … He’s walking this way.” There was a quiver of fear in her voice.
“Tell our friend to call him over,” Caine said.
“What? Are you crazy … What if he sees you?”
“He won’t.”
Caine cracked open the rear door of the van and crouched. Jia whispered to the man in Chinese.
Caine pointed the revolver at Mole Face and cocked the hammer back. The metal click echoed through the van. “Do it.”
The man rolled down the driver’s side window. “Hei, guolai!” he shouted, waving his hand. “Come here a sec!”
The guard ambled over. Caine could smell the faint odor of cigarette smoke drifting through the air as the man got closer.
“Ni xiang yao shenme?” the guard asked. “Don’t tell me the van has another leak!”
As the guard approached the window, Caine slipped out the rear door of the van and dropped to the ground. His movements were quick and silent. He scanned the garage, looking for any signs they had been noticed. If another guard entered the area, at this particular moment …
He saw nothing. They were alone in the chamber, with only the lone guard.
The man looked in the window, leering at Jia. “Well, well, zhei shi shui de? Who’s this then?”
Caine crept up behind the guard, using his thumb to lower the hammer on his revolver. As he approached the man, he saw Mole Face’s eyes track his movement. His mouth opened, and his eyes hardened. Caine processed all this in less than a second, but he knew exactly what the man was going to do.
He was going to try to warn the guard.
The uniformed man stiffened as he caught the strange, determined look in Mole Face’s eyes. He straightened up and began to turn around. But he was too late.
Caine slammed the butt of the revolver down, striking the guard’s skull with a crushing blow. As the man staggered from the impact, Caine grabbed the back of his head. He slammed the guard's face into the doorframe of the van.
He heard a loud pop as the guard’s nose broke. The man uttered a brief, guttural snarl of pain. Before he could make any more noise, Caine looped his right forearm around the man’s throat and squeezed down. The pressure of the hold cut off the oxygen supply to the guard’s brain. He struggled at first, but his thrashing soon slowed to a lethargic pace.
Caine looked over the guard’s shoulder and saw Mole Face twisting in his seat. He heard the click of the driver’s side door opening.
Caine held out his left arm, still grasping the bloodied revolver. Mole Face looked up and saw the black circle of the barrel aimed directly at his face.
“Don’t,” Caine said, his voice a harsh rasp from exertion.
The man froze.
Keeping his gun aimed at Mole Face, Caine lowered the unconscious guard to the ground. He watched as Jia slipped a hood over Mole Face’s head, then zip-cuffed his arm to the steering wheel.
Caine dragged the guard to the back of the van and pulled him inside. Working quickly, he unzipped the man’s jumpsuit. Then he began to strip off his own clothes.
Jia looked back. Her eyes traveled over the hard lines of Caine’s lean, muscular torso. His body was decorated with a series of lines and ridges … a dark mosaic of scars, left behind by long forgotten wounds. One scar stood out from the others, a small circular patch of pale, white skin, just below his shoulder.
“What on earth happened to you?" she asked. "Where did you get all those scars?”
“Kind of a long story,” Caine muttered as he slipped into the guard’s uniform. It was a tight fit, but he managed to tug the zipper closed. He grabbed the man’s cap and put it on, pulling the brim down low to cover as much of his face as possible.
“So mu
ch pain,” Jia said. “What are you? Some kind of policeman? Or a soldier?”
“I’m here to help. That’s all I can say. The less you know about me, the better. Do you trust me?”
Jia nodded. “Perhaps I shouldn’t. But I do.”
“Good. Now cut him loose.”
Jia remove a pair of wire cutters from the glovebox and cut the zip tie that bound Mole Face.
Caine walked over to the driver’s side of the van, brandishing his revolver. He opened the door, grabbed Mole Face, and yanked him out of his seat. As the hostage stumbled to the ground, Jia slid over into the driver’s position. She looked down at Caine and bit her lip.
“What if you need my help? You don’t speak Chinese, what if—”
“I’m not going to be doing any talking. And no offense, but I’ll be faster on my own. Wait here, and keep your head down. If anyone sees you, or if someone starts checking out the van, haul ass. Just go, ram through the gate if you have to.”
Caine fastened new zip cuffs around the black guard’s wrists. He turned the man around and bound his hands behind his back.
Jia brushed a long strand of hair from her face and looked down at him from the driver’s seat. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“Not exactly this, no. But I’ve been in similar situations.”
“Similar? What the hell is similar to this?”
Caine looked her in the eye as he pulled the zip cuffs tighter. “You said you trusted me. I’m telling you, we can do this. Keep your head down and stay quiet. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, things didn’t work out. If that happens, you have to bail. Get as far away from here as you can, ditch the van, and run. Don't go back to your friends' apartment, leave Beijing. Got it?”
The girl nodded.
Caine jabbed the revolver into Mole Face’s back. The man shuffled a few steps forward. Caine stopped and looked over his shoulder. Jia stared back at him, her eyes wide with fear.
“And Jia … thank you.”
“You want to thank me? Be back here in fourteen minutes.”
Caine nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. “I will.”
He turned and prodded Mole Face with the gun. “Let’s go,” he hissed. He tilted his head down, and the two men made their way across the garage into the shadows.
Chapter Sixteen
The hallways inside the black jail complex were long, narrow, and dark. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, bathing the peeling, white walls in a sickly, dim glow. Many of the bulbs in the fixtures appeared broken, and some were even shattered. Fragments of broken glass glittered among the piles of dust and refuse that lined the corridors.
As Caine and Mole Face moved forward, they passed several supply rooms and medical offices. The doors were all fitted with key card locks. The cleanliness of the electronic hardware indicated the locks were a new addition to the building. Probably installed after the facility had been re-purposed as a detention center, Caine assumed.
Caine maneuvered Mole Face past the doors, down the long, empty hall. They came to a T-intersection, and he turned right. He had memorized the blueprints of the hospital provided by Jia’s hacker friends. He couldn't read the Chinese signs on the walls, but he knew they were heading in the right direction.
As they walked down the new hall, Caine spotted a security camera. It hung in the northwest corner, and its smoked dome lens rotated towards him. He kept his head turned down and pulled Mole Face in close to block his face from view.
“Stairs,” Caine said in a low voice. “To your left.” Caine knew Mole Face spoke just enough English to understand the simple directions. He pivoted the man left and swung open a gray metal door. His captive stumbled down the dark, narrow stairwell. Caine followed close behind. Their footsteps echoed in the darkness as they descended to the basement level.
They emerged into another hall. After the pitch-black of the stairwell, the dim fluorescent lights seemed white-hot. Caine blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. Then he gave Mole Face a shove, and they continued marching forward.
The passage was narrow, lined with industrial pipes and valves. Caine heard men laughing up ahead. He pushed Mole Face forward past an open doorway. Next to the door, an old, dented fire extinguisher hung lopsided from a broken bracket on the wall.
As they moved in past the open door, he saw two more guards, their uniforms unzipped to their chests. They were smoking and playing a game of cards. One of the men laughed and blew a cloud of smoke from the corner of his mouth.
“Ma de ka!” he shouted, throwing his cards down on the small table that sat between them. “What a shit hand!”
The men didn’t even look up as Caine marched past the room. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Up ahead, left turn,” he muttered, tightening his grip on Mole Face’s shoulder. They turned and moved down another dark, narrow corridor in the cramped basement.
They came to a large door, this one painted a shocking, bright yellow. The sign on the colorful door was in Chinese, and Caine could not read it. But there was no mistaking the lightning bolts and other warning symbols on the sign.
This was the right place.
He pulled on the door’s handle, but the giant yellow slab wouldn’t budge. It was locked. Caine fished in his pocket and removed Mole Face’s key ring. Jingling through the keys, he tried them each one by one. Finally, he heard a click as the deadbolt cleared the lock. He swung the door open and pushed his captive inside.
The door shut behind him with a loud thunk. He kicked Mole Face forward, knocking him to the concrete floor. The man grunted in pain as he struck the hard surface.
“Don’t move!” Caine growled.
His eyes scanned the room. Three tall, metal cabinets surrounded him, one on each wall. An array of thick wires and pipes ran into each cabinet. A symbol decorated the face of each metal door. It was a yellow triangle surrounding a black lightning bolt. The international symbol for high voltage power lines.
Caine checked his watch. Five minutes had elapsed since he had left Jia in the garage.
Ten minutes to get upstairs, get Sean, and get back to the garage, he thought.
Assuming the black guard told the truth about his location …
Caine took a deep breath. He would find out soon enough.
He opened a pouch on the belt of his uniform and slipped the stun gun he had confiscated into his hand. Stepping over the groaning body on the floor, he threw open the doors of each cabinet. Rows of industrial circuit breakers were mounted inside each metal box.
He triggered the stun gun. The weapon crackled and popped as blue sparks leapt from the tip. He ran the sparking weapon across the first set of breakers. The metal switches popped and hissed. The sudden influx of electricity fried the delicate copper wiring inside each breaker.
The lights in the room flickered and dimmed, then went dark. A harsh electronic siren squawked to life and echoed through the hallway outside.
Caine’s mouth twisted into a grim smile. He triggered the weapon again and proceeded to fry the remaining sets of breakers. A shower of glowing sparks illuminated the room for a few brief seconds. Then darkness settled over them once again.
Caine grabbed his hostage from the floor. “Next stop,” he muttered as he led the man out into the hall. Outside, the halls were dark, but not pitch-black. The power outage had triggered the building's back-up generators. Spinning red emergency lights cast rotating pools of crimson across the walls and floor.
He pushed Mole Face back the way they had come. Up ahead, he heard frantic shouting in Chinese, just audible above the squawking siren. They were approaching the room with the two guards.
Caine triggered the stun gun once more, jabbing it into Mole Face’s back. The man jerked and stumbled as the voltage coursed through his body. Caine threw him forward and he flew past the doorway, just as the first guard was exiting. The guard turned to look as the body fell past him. As he looked away, Caine pressed the trigger on the weapon
again.
Nothing happened.
Damn, he thought. Battery must have discharged.
He wanted to avoid a gunfight for as long as possible. The sound of gunshots would carry even over the siren.
The guard rushed over and kneeled down next to Mole Face. He ripped the hood off the twitching man.
“Gau shenme gui? Hey, I know this guy. He work here!”
He turned and looked up, his eyes wide as Caine charged towards him. Caine tore the fire extinguisher off the wall as he moved towards the guard.
The uniformed man leapt to his feet. “Rhukin zhe!” he yelled. “Intruder! Who the hell are—”
Caine swung the metal cylinder in a sweeping arc. The blow struck the guard across the chin before he could finish his warning. The force of the impact spun the man around and he dropped to the floor like a stone.
Caine whirled around to face the second guard just as he exited the room. The man saw his partner slumped on the ground and drew his revolver from its holster.
He raised the pistol towards Caine, but he was too slow. Caine slammed the bottom of the extinguisher into the advancing man’s face. The blow struck with a dull, echoing thud. As his target stumbled backwards, Caine jabbed again. This time he used both hands to power the canister into the man’s gut. The guard bent forward from the impact, gasping for breath.
Caine took aim and depressed the handle of the extinguisher. A burst of white chemical smoke whooshed from the nozzle, blasting the dazed guard in the face. He stumbled backwards through the door. The extinguisher filled the small room around him with an impenetrable haze. Caine could hear the man coughing and wheezing within the thick cloud.
Holding his breath, Caine stepped into the room. Grabbing the top of the extinguisher with both hands, he swung it like a baseball bat. A metallic clang rang out as it connected with the coughing guard's head. The man went silent, dropping to the floor.
Caine pivoted to his right. He slammed the extinguisher down on the knob of the open door. The heavy metal canister battered the knob clean off the lock assembly. Caine kicked it outside and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Thomas Caine series Boxset Page 41
