Death Notice

by Zhou HaoHui

  The taxi pulled up to the hospital, and Pei leaped out. He ran to the entrance of the east wing and sprinted to the elevator. When he reached room 417, he found Mu resting on her cot and gazing out the window. Zeng was sitting by her side, rubbing the contents of a bottle of antiseptic ointment onto the bruises on his arm. His hair was tousled, and the cut over his eye would need a couple of stitches. He shot Pei a loopy grin.

  “How is everything?” Pei asked.

  The room’s two occupants turned to him, and Zeng grinned.

  “Nothing serious. Those thugs didn’t know that they were going up against the academy’s undefeated boxing champion.”

  Pei and Mu looked at each other, and saw the truth in one another’s eyes—those “thugs” were Deng’s men.

  Without wasting any more time, Pei asked Mu, “What did Yuan Zhibang give you?”

  “Who?” Mu squinted one eye at Pei.

  “Huang Shaoping is Yuan Zhibang! I know it sounds crazy, but I’ll explain everything later. Just tell me one thing! What did he give you?”

  Pei hurried to the window as he spoke. He peered out the window, and immediately noticed several young men standing in front of the hospital. While some would assume that they were simply loitering, Pei could tell from their mannerisms that they were actually keeping watch over the building’s entrances and exits. Deng’s men were already here.

  Pei stepped out into the hallway and called Liu Song. After explaining the situation as quickly as he could, he asked Liu Song to dispatch a security detail to Mu’s room as soon as possible. The SPU officer agreed immediately.

  When he returned to the room, Pei saw that Mu and Zeng were still attempting to process his revelation. Despite her initial doubts, Mu did appear to understand the seriousness of the matter. She removed a slip of paper from her pocket.

  “He gave me this. It was inside an envelope…But what does it mean?”

  Pei took the slip of paper. Only two words were written upon it. I’m sorry.

  He rubbed his forehead and let out a long exhale.

  I’m sorry.

  Eighteen years ago, Yuan had said those words to Meng moments before she tore the wire from the bomb. Now he had done the same to Mu before casting her off to be pursued by Deng and his men.

  Given what Yuan had led Deng to believe, there was no way that the kingpin would give up his pursuit of Mu. With the power he wielded in this city, he was fully capable of subduing his enemies. Eventually, Mu would be unable to escape his reach. Deng would interrogate her—quite possibly even torture her—until she gave up the location of the recording. Even though the recording did not exist.

  Pei’s mind worked quickly. Deng’s web of influence was too vast. If he was to save Mu, there was only one option. He would have to sidestep the law and end Deng’s life.

  Pei would have to defy every principle that he had upheld his entire career.

  Yuan had left him with a choice.

  It was either Mu or Deng. He could only save one of them.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  LAST BLOOD

  OCTOBER 25, 5:11 P.M.

  THE LONGYU BUILDING

  When Pei entered the lobby, he saw that the SPU officers taking part in the operation had already assembled there. Han was telling them his detailed strategy to keep Deng alive.

  Liu Song spotted Pei approaching and immediately walked toward him, steering him away from the others.

  “Any progress, Captain?” Liu Song asked anxiously. “What’s our next move?”

  “Nothing. There’s nothing to do.”

  “What?” Liu’s eyes widened in shock. “You told me to make preparations for tonight. I’ve already gotten in touch with my department’s political commissar—he’s waiting for my report as we speak. Anything we need to tell the higher-ups can go through him.”

  Pei considered his response. “That’s no longer necessary. Let’s just wait until we’ve made it through the night, and then we’ll deal with Han and Yin.” He studied the crowd. “Where’s Yin?”

  “Han said he hasn’t seen him. He’s definitely on the run!” Liu lowered his voice to a whisper. “If we don’t take action now, it’s going to be a hell of a lot harder for us to catch him.”

  There was so much new information to tell the officer, but right now he could say nothing. “I’ll be straight with you,” he said. “I’ll give you an explanation for Xiong’s death as soon as I can. I promise. But not yet.”

  “Understood,” Liu said coldly.

  The captain pointed to the crowd. “Let’s join everyone else. Right now, the most important thing we can do is listen to the captain’s battle plan.”

  As they approached the assembly of officers, Captain Han finally caught sight of the captain.

  “Captain Pei!” Han called out. “What the hell happened over there?”

  “Huang Shaoping is really Yuan Zhibang,” Pei grimly informed the captain. “He’s dead now.”

  Captain Han was speechless.

  “Huang—I mean, Yuan—was the same person who called himself Eumenides in the three murders eighteen years ago,” Pei continued. “But Eumenides’s legacy still lives on. There is someone new.”

  Pei quickly gave a concise account of the situation, from the hostage situation to the restaurant’s explosion and subsequent cleanup, although he was careful to omit several details that would be inconvenient to mention in front of the others. Xue Dalin, Pei thought to himself. Deng Hua. Mu.

  “Shit,” Han said. “There’s a new Eumenides responsible for the recent string of murders—and we have no idea who he is?”

  Pei nodded. “He is someone without any personal records. No paper trail. It’s as if he doesn’t exist.”

  “We’ll wait for him,” Han said through his teeth. “It’s time for Eumenides to learn the true meaning of justice.”

  “Yes,” Pei said.

  “We need to focus on this operation now,” Han ordered. “I’ll get you up to speed, Pei.”

  Han explained that Deng had insisted his personal security detail consist solely of his own bodyguards. The police were to handle secondary security duties, and control all entrances and exits. At 6:30 Deng would depart from the Longyu Building and travel to the airport. He would then quickly board his 8:40 flight to Beijing. According to the arrangement Han and Deng had agreed upon, Liu would first leave the building with the SPU team in order to ensure that the path ahead was safe and unimpeded. Deng’s fleet would then accompany a police motorcade led by Han. When they reached the airport, Deng would wait inside his bulletproof car while the police oversaw his boarding procedures. Once everything was in order, he would leave the vehicle and go directly to the security checkpoint, subsequently entering the departure lobby under the twofold protection of his bodyguards and the police.

  Deng’s route to his Beijing-bound plane had been designed to minimize contact with the outside world. He would enter his Bentley right at his building’s entrance, and his chauffeur would drive directly to the airport’s underground garage. When Deng emerged from the vehicle, he would be at the private VIP entrance to the airport. There, he would not only be under the protection of his fleet of personal bodyguards and the police but all civilians in the vicinity would be restricted from approaching him.

  The security measures for the operation were airtight.

  The one and only brief window of time in which Deng would be forced to be in public was when he entered the departure lobby. Not even the police had the authority to prevent other passengers from entering that area of the airport. However, as every traveler would already have passed through airport security, none of them would be able to carry anything even as small as a razor blade into the lobby.

  Resourceful as Eumenides had proved himself, this was a different situation. With the additional protection of bodyguards and full police s
urveillance, he would never get close to Deng. The departure lobby was an isolated space. As soon as the police or Deng’s bodyguards caught a whiff of anything suspicious, Eumenides would be trapped like a fish in a net.

  Assassinating Deng Hua inside the airport would be simply impossible. Yet if Eumenides had proven anything, it was that he possessed an uncanny ability for achieving the impossible.

  Everyone knew their role. Liu’s SPU team left the building, while Pei waited inside the lobby with Han and the others. Pei had no doubts as to where the key to this operation lay. Eumenides would make his attempt inside the airport.

  Pei looked over at Han and saw his tension. Veins bulged from the team leader’s temples.

  Han was also waiting for a crucial moment in their operation. He had already lost far too much—there was no turning back now.

  I made one tiny mistake, one that created a big mistake…and then that led to a bigger one. Once you take your first step down the wrong path, there’s no turning back.

  The blood on the gearshift had nearly given him away.

  Han thought back on how he had set out upon this path on an autumn night one year ago. He had been walking along it ever since.

  TWO NIGHTS EARLIER

  POLICE HEADQUARTERS, CONFERENCE ROOM

  “What is your name?”

  “Peng Guangfu.”

  The instant Han saw that Peng was alive, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. Eumenides knew. He had uncovered the truth about the Mount Twin Deer Park case. Each of the criminals featured in the other videos had been killed; he had kept only Peng alive. Eumenides was making his intentions crystal clear.

  Han resisted the urge to look away from the screen. What if Mu or Pei noticed? They were the most perceptive members in the group, and with Mu’s background in psychology, she was more likely than anyone to notice that something was wrong.

  At the end of the recording, Eumenides sliced off Peng’s tongue. “I’m giving you an opportunity,” the silhouette said. “I only hope you can make the most of it.”

  It was fair to assume these words were meant for Peng—or they might be another taunt aimed at the entire police department.

  Likewise, everyone seemed to assume that Eumenides had cut out the man’s tongue in order to prevent him from revealing any information about the killer. Han alone understood the true meaning of Eumenides’s threat.

  Even with his tongue cut out, Peng could still write. If the task force rescued him and brought him back to the station alive, Han had no doubt that he would reveal everything.

  Han saw what was at stake, and his sharp instincts grasped the dark opportunity Eumenides offered.

  Several minutes after the captain had returned to his office, his direct line rang. The voice that spoke was harsh and low, as though the speaker was trying to conceal his identity. It was identical to the voice in the videos. Eumenides.

  “You should be thanking me for not revealing your secret.”

  Han locked the door and listened.

  “The ball is in your court now. I’m sure you know what you should do to make the most of it.

  “Don’t worry, I will help you. Once you arrive at the location the transponder indicates, your window of opportunity will open up. It won’t last for long, however. You must be decisive—you cannot hesitate, not even for a second.”

  Han clenched his teeth. So this is how it felt to be a puppet.

  “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Allow me to describe what will happen if you refuse. Your shame will be public. You’ll be a disgrace. An outcast. Peng will live on, despite his crimes. He won’t have a tongue, but in the end he will win. He will watch your fall from grace, and he will do so with wicked happiness. This is your fate, unless you act. You will have one chance. Kill Peng, or live with the consequences of your crimes. Do you understand?”

  Han could not breathe.

  “Follow my instructions, and they’ll say Eumenides killed another victim. You will be free, if you can live with it. I will be watching. Once you’ve succeeded, I will destroy every remaining shred of evidence.

  “These are the rules. If you don’t play, you won’t like how it ends.”

  The caller hung up without Han ever saying a word. He couldn’t. He had no choice.

  * * *

  Not a day went by that Han didn’t relive what happened at Mount Twin Deer Park. The mistakes. The secrets. The guilt.

  When he encountered Zhou Ming and Peng Guangfu in the rock garden that night, alcohol had numbed his senses. The adrenaline of the chase had sobered him up a little, but he was still drunk. He was sluggish, and he needed to shut one eye to keep track of the figures he was chasing. Han knew deep down that he was to blame for what happened next.

  It was Han who first cornered the thieves down the park path. The two men tossed down their knives and Han made the mistake of relaxing. He was too slow when Zhou Ming pulled out a gun from his waistband and shot Han in the leg. Han immediately returned fire, but his aim was compromised.

  Zou Xu leaped out from behind a boulder, at their left flank. He tackled the shooter. At the same time, Han aimed his gun at Zhou Ming and pulled the trigger.

  Zuo Xu fell instantly. Han’s bullet had pierced his chest.

  Han’s partner used his final breaths to pull Zhou Ming to the ground and seize his gun. Peng Guangfu fled the bloodbath.

  Han approached, hobbled by the wound to his leg. He held his gun pointed at Zhou Ming while Zou Xu died. After letting out a ragged breath, the officer fell limp. A terrible mixture of dark emotions filled him. He looked upon his fallen partner, and bellowed up at the night sky.

  Zhou Ming cowered against the rock, pleas for mercy spilling from his mouth. He had dropped his gun, and was holding his hands out in total submission. But Han was engulfed in rage. Han pressed the barrel of his sidearm against the man’s chest and pulled the trigger.

  Zhou Ming’s blood spurted onto Han’s face, and the officer’s drunken haze finally began to lift.

  He had made mistakes. And he had to make a decision.

  There were three bullet casings at the scene. He had fired two bullets, killing his partner Zou Xu and the criminal Zhou Ming. Zhou had fired the bullet that wounded Han. This material evidence alone was enough for the police to extrapolate the truth behind the chaos that had just transpired.

  He needed to change that.

  Powering through his own injury, Han searched Zou’s body for the bullet that had killed him. He quickly found it—it had passed through his partner’s chest and was protruding through the skin of his back, right below his rib cage. Han wrenched the bullet out and slipped it into his pocket.

  The gunfire did not go unnoticed. Sirens sounded outside the park within minutes. By the time the officers rushed onto the scene, Han had just placed the bullet from his partner’s body where he had found the bullet that had killed Zhou Ming. When the officers questioned him, his shock was genuine. But his mind was spinning. On his way back to headquarters for questioning, he formulated a plan to cover up the evidence of his own actions. It wouldn’t be easy. But if the truth came to light, things would be so much worse.

  Over the next several days, Han rewrote history. He was the only one to know who had really shot his partner and mercilessly executed a criminal. The only one—except for Peng.

  Articles about the shootout in Mount Twin Deer Park dominated the media for days. Chengdu’s criminal police department gave Han a medal for distinguished service, and eventually the promotion for which he and Zou Xu had competed for so long.

  Han Hao was a hero.

  The pain in Han’s heart never ceased. Every day, he relived the moment when Zou Xu collapsed to the ground, and the feeling of Zhou Ming’s hot blood staining his face when he shot him at point-blank range.

  He needed to forget it all. Once he had
decided to distort the truth, he was beyond the point of no return. He began the wild manhunt for Peng Guangfu, not just to apprehend the man and bring him to justice, but to put a bullet into him and silence the only other individual who knew the truth about what happened that night in Mount Twin Deer Park.

  Despite all his efforts, he never found Peng, and Han’s superiors ordered him to call off his hunt for personal vengeance. He had no choice but to let it go. From that day on, he harbored a secret hope that Peng would never fall into the hands of the police, and that his shameful secret would remain buried forever.

  But Eumenides wasn’t ready to let Han’s past crimes stay buried and unpunished.

  * * *

  In the early hours of October 25, with Peng Guangfu chained helplessly to the mine wall like a sacrificial animal, Han did what he had to do.

  Eumenides’s plan had lured three of the four officers away from Peng’s side—the criminal was handcuffed to a scaffold—and down three separate tunnels. If only Xiong had obeyed Han’s order to go with them, it would have been perfect. But the SPU captain refused.

  It was the worst-case scenario. Han had anticipated it, however, and was prepared.

  He had already sown the seeds of his fate long before.

  A second step always follows the first.

  Han had to kill a brother-in-arms. But this time it was no accident. He walked up to Xiong and guided his razor neatly through the man’s throat. Blood spurted onto his flesh and dripped down his wrist. Peng’s blood flowed next. It was becoming a familiar feeling.

  Xiong crumpled to the ground, but he refused to succumb to his wounds. The deep gash across his throat left him incapable of uttering so much as a single syllable. Robbed of his ability to speak, he could only gape at Han in rage and betrayal.

  Han’s courage failed him. No matter how much he told himself that this was necessary, he couldn’t finish the job. He sprinted into the depths of the tunnel as though fleeing from hell—or running into it.