by Fritz Galt
“The nice thing about Victoria Peak,” Odette was saying, “is that it’s so convenient to all directions. It’s just half an hour from Central, Happy Valley or Stanley.”
However, one didn’t live in Hong Kong’s most posh and prestigious neighborhood just for the commute. She was there for the prestige, the oversized swimming pool, the cool breeze and the huge modern mansion.
May-lin leaned excitedly toward the city and pointed out all the tall buildings and cruise liners sparkling in the night.
Odette helped her by identifying the landmarks. Then she caught her breath and straightened up. “Ah, here’s my husband.”
Alec saw no car pulling up to the compound gate. Nor did a dog bark for its master.
Then he heard a high-pitched whine. He followed Odette’s upward gaze. A shaft of light blazed down from a helicopter onto a grassy helipad.
The private chopper tilted into the slight breeze and set down gently.
A cockpit door swung open, and a vigorous, gray-haired man jumped down and hobbled with a choppy stride toward them. Short in stature and long on self-confidence, he didn’t bother to crouch down under the rotating blades.
He looked like a poorly animated movie character with an awkward stride and a size that didn’t increase as he approached.
Odette strode forward and met him on the grass. There, the couple’s height difference was most noticeable. She had to stoop to plant a kiss on his lips.
The chopper revved its engine, and a refreshing gust of wind blasted them as it swept away.
May-lin’s fingernails dug into Alec’s arm. “What are we doing now?” she whispered under the cover of engine noise.
He looked into her glittering eyes and saw her consternation. “You talk to Johnny. He doesn’t care about me.”
She seemed to bite off her response and asked instead, “What am I telling him?”
“Tell him all he needs to know. Be honest.”
“Alec, I cannot.”
“Meet my husband,” Odette said, returning. “This is Johnny Ouyang.”
She introduced them with a sunny voice. Johnny recognized May-lin’s name and bowed to her. He shook Alec’s hand, but said nothing.
Then Johnny motioned for May-lin to come with him into the house. He shot Alec a morose parting glance as he left.
When the footsteps stopped echoing down the flagstone path, Alec turned to Odette and rested a hand on her shoulder.
“We need to talk.”
Mick had no time to load the Mercedes onto the ferry or even to park it properly.
So it sat angled illegally against the sidewalk. Well-heeled theatergoers spilled out of an opera performance at the Cultural Centre and glanced at the car with curiosity. Attired in tuxedos and evening gowns, they clambered aboard the Star Ferry heading for Hong Kong Island.
Mick, Natalie and Eli slid onto a bench in the enclosed upper deck and listened to others talk about Candide.
The ship blew her horn, cast off and began to steam across the placid black surface of the harbor.
Interspersed among the opals and jade crowd were other voyagers of the night, the disheveled, the worn and the dirty.
Mick looked over the diverse crowd. “American operas. Who are we to bring civilization to the Far East?”
Natalie blew a wisp of hair off her forehead.
“I’ll just bet they can’t stomach Leonard Bernstein,” Eli said.
She remained silent.
“What’s the matter?” Mick asked. “Are you okay?”
“I suppose,” she said.
Perhaps she was still smarting from Bronson’s warning not to tamper with the evidence.
She fingered the tracking device and ventured an offhand comment. “I guess a British colony like Hong Kong would rather listen to an English version of Candide than Voltaire’s original language.”
“Those two were French,” Mick said, suddenly recalling the shooting at the airport.
His two companions stared at him, their questioning faces rising and falling with the sparkling lights on the horizon.
He explained. “The woman with the gun and the man who took the briefcase were French. I wonder how they got involved.”
He remembered the woman’s livid face after he had thwarted her attempt to shoot Eli. Something in her eyes had told him she wouldn’t offer a scrap of information to the Hong Kong constabulary.
“The French have no historic ties to Taiwan,” Natalie said. “Nor do they have a vital interest in Hong Kong.”
Eli was in a dark mood. “They’re just exploiting Deng Xiaoping’s new economy.”
“They weren’t at the airport for the money,” Mick said. “They were fanatics.”
“French Secret Service?” Natalie suggested.
“The DGSE is subtler than that,” Eli responded.
It didn’t add up. Why would the couple steal the briefcase in such a public place with such risk of being caught?
As they neared the island, Mick watched the enormous Bank of China building that reflected in the rolling black waves. Seventy stories tall, the Chinese-owned tower looked like a translucent diamond. He felt he was staring clear through it at Victoria Peak.
There was one answer to his question. In Hong Kong the stakes were high, but the potential rewards were even higher.
The last time he remembered seeing such desperate anger wasn’t in the face of a refugee, but in the photo of a heroin addict whose doctor had withheld her fix.
May-lin sat on the edge of the sofa in Johnny Ouyang’s living room.
She tried to smile, but Johnny had long since lost interest in her life’s story. And in her.
She had then tried to focus his attention on the two-year project, but soon discovered that there was no new information that he didn’t already know.
He was just passing time.
In a last-ditch effort to keep her funding, she brought up the exciting future of geological mapping. But he seemed to have lost interest in even that.
She was close to tears.
A steadily increasing drone caught their attention, and he stood up to look out the enormous floor-to-ceiling window.
Their conversation had come to an end.
In the garden, a four-seat Chinese military helicopter was preparing to land.
“Follow me,” Johnny said. “Let’s meet the next president of China.”
She tripped out the door after him. Maybe he had a governmental position in mind for her. She could go for either the Ministry of Education or the Academy of Science…in Taiwan, Hong Kong or China.
They joined Alec and Odette on the lawn. May-lin fought to hold her long hair in place under the helicopter’s downdraft.
The chopper danced fussily over the red H for nearly a minute before setting down on one pontoon and landing hard on the other.
A Chinese general leaned out of the glass bubble and trotted a safe distance from the whirlwind.
When the general finally straightened up before the small group, he had an impressive collection of ribbons and medals on his chest.
“Direct from Shenzhen?” Johnny inquired as he bowed to the general.
“No. By way of Macau. An unnecessarily long trip.”
“Welcome to Victoria House,” Johnny said.
The general bowed to Odette. Clearly they had met before, but greeted each other in a businesslike manner. Everybody stood awkwardly waiting for the helicopter’s engine to wind down.
At last Johnny was able to introduce his distinguished guest to the group.
“I’d like you to meet General Chou.”
In the same chirpy way that Odette had introduced them to her husband, she introduced Alec and May-lin to the general. The general’s eyes passed over them without interest.
“Bring me your fat associate,” he demanded.
“He will be here shortly,” Odette said.
“I’m here against my will,” the general said, irritated.
“You’re here bec
ause you released an atomic bomb from your country’s nuclear arsenal and that bomb exploded in Taiwan,” Johnny reminded him. “But I don’t want you to consider our knowledge of that a threat. I want you to consider it an opportunity.”
“I brought the contract as you requested. I’m comfortable with awarding it to the European Consortium,” the general said. “But it may shock you to learn that I have no intention of invading Taiwan.”
Johnny wore an inscrutable smile. “Of course that’s your prerogative. I will not be the one to lecture you on how such cowardice will lead to Taiwan’s independence and China’s losing its seat in the UN Security Council. But once you see the enormous sum of money involved, you will see how safe the decision would be to invade.”
“I fail to see the benefit,” the general said.
“Again, it is not my role to lecture you. Of course we know that you gave away the bomb, but how soon before your superiors learn where the bomb came from and see your signature on the release?”
The general was silent.
“And think how much China wants Taiwan and needs a hero. Perhaps a popular hero to succeed Deng?”
The general pursed his rosy lips. May-lin detected fine lines of interest on his long face. “So you have something significant to show me?”
“I will have it soon,” Johnny said. “You’ll see some very persuasive material from the top commander in Taiwan. Enough to sink his navy. It may even be enough of a treasure to finance your political career.”
Johnny turned to his wife.
“Odette, dear, it’s growing late and the Americans are flying in their troops. Is André bringing the material or not?”
“You’ll see it soon enough,” she said. “Why don’t you gentlemen wait inside where it’s air conditioned?”
“Certainly, let’s step inside and talk business,” Johnny said. “I’d like you to listen to Dr. Hu May-lin. She has some interesting things to report about Orchid Island.”
Chapter 42
Mick stood up to leave the ferry. Without a car, he needed to meet up with Stephanie and jump in her Jaguar in order to catch up with the Frenchman in the Porsche. He flipped his telephone open and speed-dialed her.
Stephanie answered at once. “Yes, Mick.”
“Where are you?”
She sounded cool and calm over the airwaves. “We’re on Harbour Drive heading toward Centrol.”
“So you’re already on the island,” he said. “We just arrived by ferry. We’ll meet you in Central.”
He snapped the phone shut and motioned for Natalie and Eli to follow him. The three were the first to jump off the bobbing ship.
“Hang a right after the loading ramp.”
They ran past bookshops, newsstands and dusty rickshaws to the foot of a lofty building, Jardine House, with its whimsical circular portholes.
Across the street, trucks were just beginning to unload the day’s mainland newspapers onto the sidewalk.
Natalie took another look at her tracking device. “The blink is increasing in frequency.”
They were getting closer to the Porsche with the Frenchman and briefcase.
Mick opened his phone again. “Position check.”
“We’re heading down Des Voeux,” Stephanie said from the Jaguar.
“Remember we don’t want to apprehend him,” he said. “We want him tto lead us to his destination.”
“Roger.”
Mick folded up the phone. “Upstairs,” he ordered.
Mounting two steps at a time, the threesome reached an empty skywalk. They followed it over streets and through buildings in public passageways.
“Des Voeux Road,” he announced. “The Porsche will be down there.”
Their knees rippled like a waterfall down the cement stairs of Swire House. In Natalie’s hand, the twin green lights nearly converged into one signal.
“There’s the Frenchman,” Eli said, pointing.
The white Porsche streaked through the intersection on a red light.
Stephanie’s Jaguar was nowhere in sight.
“Damn it,” Mick said. “Grab the streetcar.”
One of the last trams of the night clanked by. Its brute mechanical strength sent a shower of sparks down the center of the street.
The rear door was jammed open for ventilation. Mick pushed his wife onboard and jumped in. Eli followed close behind.
Natalie peered through a scratched-up window. “I can’t see anything. I’m going to the upper deck.”
Mick grabbed a handrail and followed her up the tight spiral staircase to the open-air deck.
From that vantage point, he could see the full length of the neon-lit street. The Porsche swerved and entered a side street by a vertical restaurant sign.
“Back down.” He scrambled to the lower deck, with Natalie grabbing Eli on the way.
The tram was moving too quickly to jump off. Mick hung out the door and dialed Stephanie. “Drive up to Queen’s Way,” he told her. “He’ll emerge just past the HongkongBank outlet.”
“How do I pick you up?” Stephanie asked.
“We’re in a tram on Des Voeux. When it slows down, we’ll get off and run up a sidestreet to Queen’s Way.”
Natalie was knocking the high heels off her shoes. “Let’s jump,” she said.
“Are you crazy?”
They were fast approaching the restaurant where the Porsche had turned off.
Natalie put on her damaged shoes and leaned out over the street.
“Natalie!”
She stepped onto the rushing pavement and landed at a full trot.
Eli jumped next.
Mick rolled his eyes and followed suit.
He pounded down the sidewalk, the soles of his feet in pain.
The three reached the corner at the same time, and suddenly came to a screeching halt.
The Porsche was parked directly in front of them.
Then he saw why.
The side street had turned into a night market with a long row of stalls heading up the hill and no room for cars.
The Frenchman had abandoned the car and fled on foot.
“Natalie and I take the left side of the stalls. Eli, take the right.”
They split up, and Eli disappeared behind a tobacco seller.
Tourists and locals alike perused the leather goods and clothing on sale from Chinese and Hong Kong sweatshops.
Clinging to Natalie by her fingertips, Mick dodged pedestrians and low hanging light bulbs and carved a route up the hill.
She held the tracking device in front of her. The signals were diverging. The young Frenchman was running fast.
Mick caught a flash of metal at the top of the hill. It was the briefcase. “He turned right.”
They met up with Eli along the busy Queen’s Way. The three were gasping for breath.
Mick phoned the Jaguar again. “The Frenchman is out of his car and carrying the briefcase. He’s running west on Queen’s Way. We’re shadowing him on foot.”
“I see you. We’re right behind.”
Mick turned just in time to see Stephanie briefly wave from the front seat of a passing Jaguar.
“Look,” Eli said with a hoarse whisper. “He’s taking the escalator.” He pointed to an overpass. It was a kilometer-long moving walkway that extended halfway up Victoria Peak.
“He’s taking the moving walkway,” Mick whispered into his phone.
Suddenly he was seized by a leg cramp. “Wait a second.”
The Jaguar skidded to a halt.
Bent over, he checked how Natalie was doing. She, too, was leaning over and panting.
“Natalie, take the car.” He limped ahead to open the door for her.
She didn’t resist and climbed in.
Stephanie turned in her seat. “Where to?”
“Drive halfway uphill to Old Bailey Street in case the guy gets off before the end. Eli, come with me.”
The two men scrambled up to the overpass.
Alec glance
d up from the garden and watched the shadows of May-lin, Johnny Ouyang and General Chou play against the ceiling of the modern mansion. They appeared engaged in lively conversation.
He turned to Odette, and she spun away with a slight tremble in her square shoulders.
“You probably don’t understand what’s happening tonight,” she said.
“Looks like they’re doing business. I’m not a businessman, so I won’t pretend to understand.”
She turned back to him, the light reflecting as intense pinpricks in her dark brown eyes. “That’s exactly what my husband thinks about me. Business is for men. If he only knew how much I contributed to his success.”
“Why ruin his fantasy? Things seem to be working well for both of you.”
“Perhaps. But the people he deals with wouldn’t accept a woman.”
“Who? The Chinese?”
She nodded. “It’s the worst part about that country. My new country.” She turned back to the city.
“I don’t understand why your husband doesn’t break his ties with China.”
Below them, the city pulsated with life.
“No, you aren’t a businessman, are you. Don’t try to understand. It would only break your heart.”
He leaned over the iron fence and looked back into her angular face. “Ever since I was young,” he said, “I’ve believed that anyone can change. One day I’m a fireman. The next day I’m a scientist. One day I’m American. The next day I’m Brazilian. If I couldn’t change, I’d no longer be free.”
“Freedom,” she said in a low voice that he had to strain to hear. “That’s a word few people dare to utter around here anymore. You’re a lucky man.”
Leaning against the rubber handrail of the moving walkway, Mick and Eli had a moment to catch their breath.
One block ahead, the tall, gray form with the shiny briefcase leaned on his handrail as well.
The newly built escalator and moving walkway system whisked pedestrians up the sharp incline to a stand of sleek apartment buildings that sprouted from the midlevels of Victoria Peak.
From his perch on the elevated walkway, Mick could peer directly into open windows. In the sultry air, people exposed their offices, their workshops and their private lives to passing commuters.
