by Ian Hamilton
“I’ve been sleeping again. Could you tell me the time, please?”
“It is almost ten o’clock. We’ve been checking on you. You missed dinner but we didn’t want to wake you. Would you like something to eat now?”
“Yes, please.”
“And would you like to put on pyjamas?”
“Not right away. I’d like to eat sitting in the chair.”
“Do you want some help getting to it?”
“No, I can manage,” he said.
It took him a few minutes to get out of the bed, gather himself, and get into the chair. As soon as he felt settled, his mind began to process the fact it was ten o’clock. That meant it was about five hours since Ma and Lin had left to speak with Ye. He hadn’t expected them to be gone that long, but his problem was that he had no idea if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
The nurse returned carrying a tray, which she placed on Uncle’s lap. He looked down at a bowl of rice, a baked chicken leg, and a small serving of bok choy. Quite suddenly his appetite grabbed him. He felt as if he hadn’t eaten proper food in days, and then realized that was actually the case. He ate quickly, barely tasting the food, and then drank a glass of water. As soon as he finished, the door opened and the nurse reappeared. He found that odd, and wondered for the first time if he was being watched. Then he thought about the conversation he’d had with Lin and dismissed the notion. Lin would never have been so frank if the room was bugged.
She took the tray and then looked down at Uncle’s feet, still in hospital slippers. “Would you like me to help you put on your socks and shoes?”
“Do I need them?”
“I think you do. We’ve been told you’re leaving us.”
( 33 )
Uncle sat alone in the room, staring at the closed door. Who was going to open it? Who was coming to get him? He struggled to stay calm. Regardless of who it was, there was nothing he could do to change it. Had a firm decision been made? It would be naive to think that he was leaving the room to have more conversations, so yes, he was sure a decision had been made, but what had General Ye opted to do?
What felt like fifteen minutes passed, and then another fifteen. Whoever was coming to get him wasn’t in any hurry. Uncle tried to convince himself that was a positive sign, but the counterargument swirled in his head just as strongly. His mood shifted back and forth. He was on an up cycle when he heard voices outside the door. He stopped breathing as he strained to listen. Then the door opened and a PLA officer walked into the room. He was closely followed by four armed soldiers and Dr. Song, who was pushing an empty wheelchair.
“I am Lieutenant Bai,” the officer said. “You are to come with us.”
“Where are we going?” Uncle asked.
“You’ll find out when we get there. So no more questions, please,” Bai said, and then stood to one side.
Dr. Song stepped towards Uncle. “I want to check your vitals before you leave.”
“Do you know where they’re taking me?” Uncle whispered as Song leaned towards him.
“No,” Song said quickly.
As Song did his work, Uncle noticed that Bai didn’t take his eyes off either of them. What did he think, that Uncle was going to leap to his feet and make a run for the door?
“Everything is normal,” Song said after taking Uncle’s pulse.
“Fine. Now help him into the wheelchair,” Bai said.
A soldier rolled the chair over to Song.
“Do you need help to stand?” Song asked Uncle.
“No, I can manage.” He pushed himself to his feet, groaning from the effort.
“Turn to the side,” Song said. Uncle did and Song placed the chair against the back of his legs. “Now you can sit,” he said.
After Uncle had eased into the chair, Song snapped the footrests into place. “He’s all yours,” he said to the lieutenant. “But try not to jostle him too much. His back is still a problem.”
Bai nodded and then said to one of his soldiers, “You push him, but keep it slow and steady.”
When the chair was pointed in the direction of the door, one of the soldiers took up a position in front and the others stood on either side. The lieutenant walked past them and led the way from the room.
“Be well,” Uncle heard Song say as he was wheeled into the corridor.
The soldiers walked so close to the chair that they were virtually all Uncle could see until he reached the elevator, where yet two more soldiers stood holding the door open. They rolled Uncle into the elevator and then all of them bundled in after him. On his previous trip from the hospital to the cells, they had taken him to the lobby and put him in an ambulance at the front entrance. This time the elevator went past the lobby and stopped at a parking level. They don’t want me to be seen leaving, he thought, and felt his anxiety spike.
When the elevator doors opened, Uncle found himself looking directly into an ambulance. It had been backed up to within ten metres of the elevator, its rear doors were open, and a ramp ran from the ambulance to the floor. Two medical attendants stood by the ramp.
“Roll him in,” Bai said to them.
One of the attendants walked over to Uncle and replaced the soldier who had been pushing him. A moment later the wheelchair was inside the ambulance, along with both attendants and two soldiers. Bai was still outside but now held a walkie-talkie in his hand. “We’ve got him and we’re ready to leave,” he said into it.
Uncle could hear a voice replying, but the static was so bad he couldn’t decipher what was being said. Whatever it was, it seemed to satisfy Bai, because he gave the walkie-talkie back to a soldier and then walked up the ramp into the ambulance. “We can go now,” he said to the attendants. One of them turned and rapped on the small glass window that separated them from the driver. A few seconds later, the ambulance kicked into gear.
Uncle was facing forward, the window in front of him dominated by the driver’s head, leaving just enough space on each side to allow him a glimpse of the outside world. When the ambulance left the garage and drove onto the street, he tried to identify the surrounding buildings but didn’t recognize anything. Despite the late hour, traffic was still heavy, and they made slow progress through the streets. Uncle wondered why the ambulance didn’t put its siren on, and then just as quickly answered his own question. They had him under control; there was no need to rush.
They had driven for what Uncle guessed was fifteen minutes when he noticed the lieutenant checking his watch. “Do you have a deadline to meet?” he asked.
Those were the first words anyone had spoken since they had left the hospital, and they seemed to startle the soldiers.
“No, but we’re getting close to our destination, so I’m going to have to blindfold you,” Bai said. “I’ll leave your hands free, but if you make any attempt to remove the blindfold I’ll handcuff you.”
“You won’t need the cuffs,” Uncle said, instantly alert to the unspoken need for secrecy the blindfold represented.
“I hope not,” Bai said, taking a mask from his jacket pocket.
Back in darkness, Uncle began to dissect what he’d just learned. Bai had said they were close to their final stop. The last trip to the cells had taken about twenty minutes, and that was in good traffic. This time traffic was heavier and he didn’t think they’d driven for that long. Could it be that they weren’t going back to the cells? And what about the mask, why was it needed? If they were going to kill him, what did it matter if Uncle knew where they were? It made no sense at all, and Uncle felt his spirits lift ever so slightly.
They drove for a few minutes more before the ambulance came to an abrupt stop. Uncle expected the back door to open, but instead the vehicle made a right turn and started down a hill. It stopped again for several seconds, then made a left turn, followed by a series of turns. Uncle heard a car honking and then the ambulance horn sound
ed in reply. They stopped. He heard a shuffling of feet around him and the back door opening. There was a clang, which he assumed was the ramp being put in place. Someone grasped the wheelchair handles, spun the chair around, and pushed Uncle towards the door. The chair was tilted back as it went down the ramp.
“They’re waiting for you on the second floor,” a voice said. “I’ll let them know you’re on your way.”
“Yes, sir,” Bai said.
The wheelchair was lifted over a step, went through what Uncle guessed was a door, and then was rolled along a corridor that echoed the sound of the boots striking its floor. Uncle guessed it was concrete or stone of some kind, like the corridors linking the cells. This isn’t so good, he thought. They came to a stop. “We’re taking the service elevator. Push the button,” Bai said to one of the soldiers.
Service elevator? Where the hell are we?
No one spoke while they waited, until the silence was broken by the sound of the elevator door opening. Uncle was pushed inside for a ride that was over almost as soon as it began. As they exited, another unfamiliar voice said, “Well done, Lieutenant. Take him to Room Six, at the end of the hall. You can’t miss it; we have guards at the door.”
“Yes, Colonel,” Bai said.
Uncle was on the move again, but this time on a surface that made no noise, which confused him. The men walked for about a minute before they came to a halt.
“You can leave the visitor here,” a voice said. “We’ll take care of him.”
Visitor?
“My instructions were to deliver him to General Ye.”
“I represent the general, so that’s exactly what you’ve done.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you can take off his mask. There’s no need for it anymore.”
Light hit Uncle’s eyes like a camera flash. He blinked, and gradually his vision started to adjust to the powerful overhead lighting. When things came into focus, he saw Bai standing next to a tall, lean, middle-aged man with single stars on his epaulettes. There were at least ten other soldiers in the area and flanking the door to Room Six.
“Where am I?” Uncle asked.
“If they’d wanted you to know that they wouldn’t have asked the lieutenant to blindfold you,” the tall soldier said.
“Who are they?”
He raised an eyebrow as if he couldn’t believe Uncle had asked the question. “That isn’t for me to say.”
“Well, at least tell me who you are.”
“I’m General Wa, a member of General Ye’s staff,” he said, and then pointed to the door. “You are to wait in there until they’re ready for you. Can you walk or do you need the wheelchair?”
“I’ll stay in the chair.”
“Very well,” Wa said, and turned to Bai. “Take him inside and then you can return to your post.”
A soldier standing next to Wa stepped forward and opened the door with a simple turn of the handle. Bai pushed Uncle through into a room that had a large table surrounded by twelve chairs in the middle. Along the walls on both sides were credenzas with nothing on them, and on the walls were various paintings of waterfalls. This was a meeting room or a small corporate boardroom, Uncle thought as Bai pulled a chair back from the table and rolled Uncle into its place. Then, without a word, the lieutenant turned and left.
Uncle looked around the room. There was only the one door. As with the credenzas, there was nothing on the table, and no sign of a phone. Uncle wheeled himself over to a credenza and started opening drawers in the hope of finding something that would help him figure out where he was. They were all empty. If this was a meeting room it certainly wasn’t used very often. He had just looked through the last credenza and wheeled himself back to the table when the door opened.
“Sorry for this inconvenience, but I think you might find that it’s worth it,” Captain Ma said as he strode in.
“Can I assume from that remark that the general has agreed to my terms?” Uncle asked.
“Not entirely,” Lin said, following Ma into the room.
“Actually, not at all,” Ma said, as both he and Lin sat down at the table.
“So where does that leave me, apart from confused?” Uncle asked.
“We’ve just left the general; he’s here in the hotel,” Lin said. “When we met with him earlier to outline your conditions, he was furious. He said no to everything, and even withdrew the offer not to proceed with bribery charges against you in the Peng case. I think it’s fair to say that his attitude was completely hostile.”
“I concur with that assessment,” Ma said. “He basically said that you would either co-operate or spend the rest of your days in a cell — or worse. The ‘worse’ part wasn’t defined, but we understood what he meant, as I’m sure you do.”
Uncle’s mouth became dry and his palms sweaty. It was a strange combination, which was compounded by his inability to sort out what Ma and Lin were actually trying to tell him. “So why am I here and not in a cell? I’ve already said no to that kind of proposition, and I’m not going to change my mind. I won’t tell the general what he wants to hear about the Liu family if it means lying.”
“I thought you were prepared to speak about your relationship with them from the Hong Kong side of the border,” Ma said.
“You’re reading too much into what we discussed earlier. All I said was that I’d tell you what I know. And what I know — and would have sworn to — is that the Lius are not now and never have been my partners in anything. That’s a fact that doesn’t change, whether I’m in Hong Kong or here.”
“I know that was your position, and I relayed that to the general,” Lin said.
Uncle looked at Lin, trying not to hide his surprise. Whose side was Lin really on?
“That was when he got most angry,” Lin continued. “But eventually he began to calm down, and as one meeting merged with another, he began to retreat.”
“Retreat? What does that mean?”
“It means no cell,” Lin said.
“No charges,” added Ma.
“And you’re free to return to Hong Kong anytime you wish,” Lin said with a broad grin.
“You’ve completely lost me,” said Uncle. “What’s happened?”
“Shall I tell him or will you?” Lin asked Ma.
“I think it should come from you,” Ma said.
“Liu Huning is in Shenzhen. In fact, he’s on the top floor of this hotel,” said Lin. “He met with General Ye earlier tonight, and then again after the general had an opportunity to speak with his commanding officer and his father, Ye Desheng, in Beijing. We weren’t party to any of those conversations, but we were told their outcome.”
Uncle sat dumbfounded, his head full of questions that were almost too complicated to ask. When he did get one out, it was simply, “You were told by whom?”
“The general. He said it’s now obvious to him that some of his subordinates were taken in by Peng’s desperate attempt to salvage his situation,” Lin said. “He said there’s no evidence that Liu Leji or any member of the Liu family has been involved in improper activity, and that those subordinates should never have believed Peng’s lies.”
“Some officers will be reprimanded. I’ll probably be one of them,” Ma said. “And apologies will be made to Liu Leji for any embarrassment this wrong-headed investigation may have caused.”
“You might be struck by the cynicism of it all,” Lin said. “But for us it’s just how things are done.”
“That’s how things are done everywhere,” Uncle said. “It makes no difference if you’re in the military or not. Those with the most power prevail, and they’re the ones who get to write the story.”
“Shall we finish writing yours?” asked Lin.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s someone on the top floor who would like to meet you.”
Ma walked with Uncle and Lin to the service elevator and then left them there. “He isn’t actually a bad guy,” Lin said. “He just follows orders a bit too precisely.”
Uncle didn’t respond, and watched from his wheelchair as Lin pushed the button for the thirty-second floor.
“You’re quiet,” Lin said.
“I’m in shock.”
“That’s understandable. I’m sorry we sprung it on you that way, but we didn’t have a choice.”
“Why couldn’t I have been told something before I left the hospital?” Uncle said. “When I got into the ambulance, I was convinced I was heading back to the cells, and I was almost equally convinced that it would be the last trip I’d ever make.”
“As I said, I’m sorry. The truth is that the general hadn’t completely changed his mind about pursuing the Liu family until an hour ago. He was certainly leaning that way, and from what I’ve been told, his father was quite insistent that he bring an end to it, but nothing was final,” Lin said. “Would you have preferred to be told at the hospital that all was resolved in your favour, only to find that wasn’t the case when you got here? In our minds, that would have been more crushing. So we decided to wait until we were certain. “
“Who are we?”
“Liu Leji and his uncle have been actively involved.”
Uncle nodded but said nothing as the elevator reached the thirty-second floor. When its doors opened, he found himself facing two armed soldiers.
“He’s with me,” Lin said from behind Uncle, and then rolled him into a corridor lined with more than a dozen soldiers.
“This is like an armed camp,” Uncle said.
“The floor is occupied by VIPs,” Lin said. “Mr. Liu’s suite is at the far end.”
They passed two other suites, each with soldiers at the door, before they reached their destination. A soldier stood aside to allow Lin to knock. Seconds later it was opened by a young woman in a blue cotton dress, who smiled at Lin and stepped back into the suite. Lin pushed Uncle into a sitting room containing a number of richly upholstered sofas and chairs, plus coffee and end tables. Uncle was taken aback by the size of the room; it was bigger than his entire apartment.
