Ruse

by Cindy Pon

  She continued to hear the sound of ice clinking against glass from the sitting room. The device finally powered on, and she searched for Jason’s number in her own Palm, typing it in, messing up, then retyping the number. Were they already on their way to Jason? How much time would he have?

  Finally she typed her warning, then double-checked the number to be sure it had gone to the right device. When the dummy indicated message delivered, she tucked it under her pillow. She didn’t expect a response from Jason. She only hoped it reached him in time.

  ZHOU

  We had gone over our plans for almost two hours together, hashing out every small detail, making a list of the equipment Lingyi needed to acquire, when my dummy Palm pinged again. Besides my friends, only Daiyu and Jin had this number. But when I checked it, the message was from an unknown device.

  My father’s men are on their way to you.—D

  “We have to clear out.” I jumped to my feet, and my friends sat in shocked silence for a heartbeat before following my lead.

  “Leave everything except what you need,” Lingyi instructed, grabbing her MacFold.

  I swept all my essentials into the leather duffel and checked the door monitor. The corridor, thankfully, was still empty. But when I opened the door noiselessly, I heard someone speaking in a low voice around the corner.

  Too late.

  I pressed a finger to my lips, then pointed at Iris; she was beside me before my arm dropped. Arun and Lingyi went into the bedroom nearest to the front door, hiding from view. Leaving the front door slightly ajar, Iris and I waited. Two thugs showed up on our door monitor. They glanced at each other when they saw our door wasn’t closed, but didn’t say a word. One man pulled a gun and the other a taser; the muscular guy with red spiked hair pushed the door cautiously open. Iris and I stayed hidden behind it as he walked in.

  Once he cleared the threshold, Iris grabbed the red-haired guy in a choke hold from behind, jabbing a sleep spell into the side of his neck. He shouted, and his gun went off, shattering the glass table in our sitting room. At the same time, I slammed the door as hard as I could into the other thug and heard a sickening crunch. He groaned, then screamed obscenities and shoved his way inside. His partner dropped right then, and he tripped over him, falling to his knees. Iris grabbed the second thug by the collar and jammed a sleep spell into the back of his neck too. He struggled, trying to aim his taser, then slumped down ten seconds later, blood streaking from his broken nose.

  I glanced at our door monitor, waiting to see if more thugs would show up. We stayed silent, listening for any other sounds. Only the second man’s labored breathing could be heard, but a gunshot had gone off, and it’d be a miracle if a hotel guest hadn’t reported it.

  “Boss,” I said.

  Arun emerged with Lingyi, who was clutching a satchel to herself. Iris dropped down to search the men’s pockets. She found a key fob and tossed it to Arun, then took their gun and taser. She passed redhead’s Palm to Lingyi. Lingyi scanned through the messages, then left the device on the man’s chest. “Let’s go,” she said simply. “Jin will send more men when we don’t show up trussed like pigs.”

  Iris and I dragged the men clear of the door. I shifted the second thug’s face so he wouldn’t choke to death on his own blood, before we cleared out and walked cautiously down the corridor. “We should head to the garage,” I said in a low voice.

  Lingyi nodded in agreement, and Arun called the elevator. We stood on either side of it, out of sight until the doors opened. I’d learned my lesson from my encounter with Da Ge. But thank gods, the car was empty. When the doors slid open onto the garage’s concrete space, we paused to listen for movement or sound but heard nothing.

  Jin’s thug’s aircar headlights turned on when we neared, its engine humming to life, but Lingyi shook her head. “We can’t take the sedan. Jin’ll be tracking it. Let’s get another ride.”

  We found a chauffeur asleep in a silver airlimo with a gray cap pulled over his eyes. He had the window down and snored so loudly, it wasn’t hard to find him. I opened the car door and Iris hauled him out by twisting a handful of his crumpled shirt. The man snorted when roused from his nap. “We’ll have to take the car,” I said.

  “What?” The man was instantly awake. “No!”

  “You’ll find it again,” I replied.

  Iris hit him with an injection in the back of his neck, and I caught him when he fell. We couldn’t risk him giving any details if Jin questioned him. None of Jin’s thugs would be able to tell him what had taken place either, thanks to the memory-wipes. I left the driver propped against the wall as my friends climbed inside the airlimo. Arun took the wheel. “I know somewhere we can go,” he said.

  The glass doors slid open as our car approached, then soared into the air. It was almost dusk, and the Bund was crowded with pedestrians. In that moment, Jin Tower’s neon lights broadcasted the invitation to the opening ceremony next Wednesday across its glass panes. Daiyu appeared, shimmering into view like some pixelated goddess. She wore a pale blue dress and a silver necklace with dangling diamonds at her throat. Don’t miss the biggest celebration Shanghai has ever seen!

  She spoke, but as there was no sound, the characters scrolled across the building, above her head.

  “We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Lingyi said, her breath misting the dark window for a second.

  That sense of unease returned, settling heavy in my stomach. We were taunting a powerful, angry lion in this game. But Daiyu lived right in his den.

  We didn’t have to fly far. Arun parked the airlimo in a dingy side street near Yuyuan in the Old City of Shanghai, and we left it. The owner would be able to track it here. We followed Arun through the narrow side streets, passing a small storefront with steamed buns in bamboo baskets stacked high on its counter. Iris stopped to buy xiaolongbao, handing each of us a plastic bag stuffed with the soup dumplings. Mopeds zipped by, and bicyclists teetered on the side, their wheels kicking up dust.

  “Where are we going?” I asked Arun.

  He was checking his Palm for directions. “I’m trying to figure it out myself.”

  Lingyi appeared pale in the hazy sunlight. Iris touched her wrist. “Are you all right?”

  Lingyi scanned our surroundings, then nodded. “This is near where Jany’s apartment was.”

  Iris pulled Lingyi into herself, wrapping an arm protectively around her shoulder, and Lingyi leaned into the taller girl. “I’ll be fine. I’ll feel better when we get to this place and are off the streets.”

  “I agree,” Arun said. “This way.”

  We passed a convenience store with a wooden ladder propped against its entrance. Plastic toys dangled on a string in the open storefront window beside it, and a glass shelf was stacked high with cigarettes and lighters in all colors. A white cat with long silken hair perched on the store’s front step, observing us silently with green eyes as we passed. A man with bushy gray hair stood outside another shop with a broken wooden door, cutting another man’s hair with an electric razor. His client sat on a stool with a large red apron tied around his neck. No one paid attention to us, even though I kept looking over my shoulder, making certain we weren’t being followed. The sun was slipping low on the horizon, but still the summer heat felt oppressive, and I coughed through my thin face mask. The pollution in Shanghai seemed even worse than Taipei; my throat felt scraped raw, breathing its air.

  Arun turned down another side street, which narrowed even more than the one we had been on. This one was residential, with low concrete buildings. Old bicycles were propped against the walls beneath rusty air-conditioning units that jutted out from the homes. Laundry lines crisscrossed haphazardly overhead, and the clothes hung out to dry flapped in the hot summer breeze.

  “Number 173,” Arun said. “This is it.” He had paused in front of a two-story building gray with grime. The home had a steel door and a touch pad installed for access. Arun punched in a series of numbers, once in a while glanc
ing at his Palm. The door clicked open, and he entered cautiously. Then he turned back to us, waving, and said, “We’re good. It’s safe.”

  The dilapidated exterior belied the modern interior of the small home. It must have been renovated at some point, with warm recessed lighting, sleek furniture, and a new voice-commanded kitchen. Arun already had both tea and coffee brewing with a few verbal requests.

  Lingyi slid onto a turquoise leather sofa. “This is perfect. But whose is it?”

  “Ms. Wang’s, the director of the clinic in Qibao,” Arun replied. “The property was donated to the clinic, and she uses it to house doctors and specialists who might be volunteering their time at the children’s clinic, giving them some extra days in this apartment as a perk.” Arun filled a mug of tea for Lingyi and coffees for the rest of us as we sat down in the living room. I ate the rest of my xiaolongbao but could have done with two more bags of the soup dumplings. “She said we’re free to use it for as long as we need.” Arun set a mug of coffee in front of me, and I nodded in appreciation.

  “I’ll get started on gathering the things on our list,” Arun said. “I’m sure I can pick up a lot of the stuff tonight.”

  “I’ll look with you,” Lingyi replied.

  Arun slid onto the sofa beside Lingyi, placing a steaming mug on the titanium tea table beside her. Iris had gone upstairs to scout the joint, and I swiped through my dummy Palm. “Are you going to message her?” Lingyi asked.

  I glanced up; the hardest part was not being in touch. “I don’t want to risk it. We’re only messaging if it’s an emergency.”

  “That seems wise.” Lingyi leaned forward. “I know you’re worried, but Daiyu will follow through.”

  It meant a lot that Lingyi trusted Daiyu, because she believed in my trust. “I don’t doubt her at all,” I replied. “But what if something goes wrong?” Just thinking about the possibility made me feel queasy. “We both know how ruthless Jin is.”

  “If anyone could best him at his own game, I think Daiyu could,” she replied. “Daiyu’s smart.”

  Daiyu was smart, but so was Jin. If he discovered his own daughter had deceived and betrayed him, there was no telling what he’d do. The last thing he needed to know was how much I cared for his daughter.

  I must have dozed off, when I woke to the chime of an incoming message on the dummy Palm. The one narrow window in the room showed night had fallen outside, and the sofa was empty. My friends were all settled at the round glass table near the kitchen, speaking in soft tones. I fumbled for my device. This, too, was from an unrecognizable number, but the message gave a clear indication as to who the sender was: You’ll bring the prototype when we meet, or I’ll exact a price from someone you care for.

  Adrenaline rushed through me when I read Jin’s threat. He had to mean Daiyu. Or had he gone to the room we abandoned at Les Suites and figured I had been working with friends this whole time? It was obvious there had been more than one person staying there. It didn’t matter. Jin got his point across. He knew I wasn’t working alone, and he could hurt me through them. I could only pray that he didn’t suspect Daiyu at all. Clenching my jaws, I wanted to pound my fist on the tea table. Instead, I drew a long breath and typed in my reply: I’ll have the prototype.

  There was no guarantee Jin wouldn’t kill me on sight, once he got the catalyst in his hands. I sank back into the chair; it was exactly what Jin would do. It would put me in my place once and for all. My main goal was to survive this encounter and make certain my friends did too.

  I tossed my butterfly knife, wishing I had a wall to climb instead to expend my energy. Suddenly, I had an idea.

  I caught Arun’s eye and waved him over. I hoped he would be able to make what I had in mind and do it in the five days before the actual ceremony.

  My life depended on it.

  Later that evening, Arun and I set out to meet with various dealers who were able to sell us the equipment we needed fast, without us having to show up in a well-lit store during business hours to purchase them. Arun did all the talking. I simply stood beside him and looked threatening, which didn’t mean much more than playing with my knife with a cap pulled low over my eyes.

  The area in Yuyuan seemed to transform from a crowded tourist haven in the day and early evening into a warren of shadows and underhanded dealings late at night. Dark shapes pressed against the buildings and walls, sometimes peeling from them like ghosts. A few whispered in low voices, but more often, I merely saw a brief glint in their eyes when we walked past. Arun carried a taser, and I had enough knives on me to take down a small entourage. Still, I was hyperaware of our surroundings. Jin’s men could be prowling these streets too, searching for us.

  But other than the one lanky guy who doubled his price at the last minute, we had no trouble with our three meetings that night. And Arun paid the amount. We weren’t there to haggle, but to get what we needed and head back.

  The next morning, Saturday, Iris went with Lingyi to scope out Jin Tower and its surroundings. Lingyi wore a silver head wrap to cover her bright purple hair, then donned a black face mask and dark sunglasses over that. We decided it was safer if I steered clear of the area until the day of the opening ceremony. Instead, I went with Arun out on a few other late-night meet-ups with sellers until we had everything on his and Lingyi’s list.

  After canvassing the area with Iris, Lingyi drew up a detailed map for us, then went to work on Jin Tower’s communication system. Arun spent all his time on putting together the device I had requested after getting the necessary parts, and researching, then experimenting for hours.

  I was trying not to jump out of my own skin with every little sound, afraid it might be a chime from my Palm with another message from Jin or Daiyu, letting me know she had been found out. But my dummy device remained silent the entire time, and I caught up on my sleep, often waking with fragments of a nightmare clinging to the periphery of my consciousness.

  On late Monday night, after two failed attempts, Arun was able to make a working device that I needed. He strapped it around my chest, and we gave each other excited high fives after it passed all his tests.

  On Tuesday, after working nonstop, Lingyi let out a whoop of triumph in the morning. “It’s done. I’ve hacked into Jin Tower’s security cameras and display system! Soon the entire world will know what kind of man Jin is.” She whirled on her chair at the dining table to face the rest of us sitting in the living room area, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. “Now we just need to bypass security on-site to set up the necessary equipment.”

  She said it offhandedly, like it was only a small thing. But the city was expecting hundreds of thousands of people to show up along the Bund tomorrow for the extravagant opening ceremony. Security would be tight, with Jin’s own hired guards along with Shanghai’s police force. The hardest tasks were still before us.

  But we whooped along with her, getting up to exchange high fives and bump fists. Our spirits were high, yet I was anxious in a way I had never felt before going into a job—because Daiyu was involved. I could only hope everything was going her way too.

  Because at this point, it was do or die.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  We all got a full night’s sleep before the day of the ceremony. It was a beautiful, mild day for August, and the city began roping off areas near Jin Tower early in the morning. We watched news reports from on-site on our wall screen, keeping tabs. Iris had argued for Lingyi to stay behind and work everything remotely from the house, but Lingyi balked.

  “I need to be there,” she insisted. “It’s too risky: if the equipment fails, our entire plan fails.” She looked at each of us in turn, the way she always did when she needed to drive a point across. “Besides, I’ve stayed behind before. And I refuse to be separated from you again for this.”

  So it was decided that Lingyi, Iris, and Arun would leave earlier for Jin Tower to set up on the ground. I’d wait and head out near my agreed-upon time of six p.m. Before they left,
Arun and Lingyi checked on the small but powerful cam and mic made to look like a simple silver buckle on my belt. He then checked the heart rate monitor strapped to my chest against the device we had installed within the prototype. “Everything is working great,” he said, and we bumped fists.

  My friends left a little after three p.m., their faces covered beneath masks and with hats and caps pulled over their heads. Lingyi’s purple hair was tied up and tucked beneath a straw hat—the kind tourists wore to hide from the sun. It felt too quiet after they were gone. The minutes dragged miserably. I kept checking my dummy device, hoping for a message from Daiyu. Nothing.

  By half past five, I couldn’t wait to leave.

  Arun had gotten a used airped for me. I carefully placed the prototype into the trunk that was attached to the back, making sure everything was secured in place. I was dressed in my favorite black jeans and a faded gray tee. I checked my knives, then the place where I had tucked three sleep spell injections at my waist. Arun had given them to me just in case. Drawing the thin mask over the lower part of my face, I started the airped and felt the thrum of the propulsion system come alive. The narrow alleyway was empty, and I sped down it, heart racing, before lifting into the sky, feeling that familiar surge in my chest. I grinned despite myself and turned the airped toward the Bund and Jin Tower, its silver spire gleaming prominently along the smog-polluted skyline.

  Jin was waiting for me.

  And I had a score to settle.

  More aircars and airpeds circled over the Bund than usual in anticipation of Jin Tower’s opening ceremony. I navigated the congested air traffic carefully. Seeing the crowds from above was different from on-screen. Even this high up, I could hear the low buzz of excited voices as people fought for a good spot to watch the festivities. Jin had provided free food and drink carts all along the Bund, and other carts gave away flickering toys and glowing tiaras and necklaces, all emblazoned with Jin’s insignia. Tour boats were anchored along the river, with hundreds of people mingling on the open decks, having paid premium prices for the best views from the water. Jin had promised Shanghai a fireworks display like the city had never seen.